#and i'm technically still ' in training ' and wasn't even properly trained

[yukioujo]

not me speedrunning the event on its last day because i've had barely any time to play throughout its run

#❀ ⊹ ⁺ ₊ ˚ ⸝⸝ 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲〘 ooc 〙. #I KNOW I KNOW MY GIRL DESERVES THE WORLD #I DID ALL OF THE MINIGAMES THO #work has been particularly grueling #i've been in a slow transition between positions for months #the position i switched into was already behind on work #and only started getting A LOT of new curveballs that fell to me that the last person never had to deal with #and i'm technically still ' in training ' and wasn't even properly trained #so i had to teach myself #and with all of the holidays and short weeks etc #WHELP #well #i've been going in early recently just to try and catch up #🥲 🥲 🥲 🥲 #so we'll see how that turns out #long tags for ts

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

it wasn't me [t.rodman x reader]

prompt: trinity refuses admit to stealing your clothes

author notes: the word for this mini fic is "steal" obviously. i swear this is the most trinity coded fic i have written for her. i'm knocking out a request for more trin fics and helping myself write more, killing two birds with one stone. hope y'all like it 💞

trinity has a problem. actually the right word would be an addiction. she can't stop herself from stealing your clothes. the mix of your perfume and body wash you use rubs off on your clothes, making her heart all happy so can you really blame her? it was a cute habit except for when you needed to actually wear your clothes and half of your closet was gone. still you never stop her, so trinity happily indulges in her you-based addiction.

the only downside of this is the fact trinity does not like admitting it. even if everyone obviously knows it. this isn't even due to a pride thing, the american player just doesn't like to admit it. in her mind technically your clothes are her clothes so is it really stealing?

"baby! have you seen my mickey mouse pajama pants? it's going to be a little chilly and i wanna wear them," you shout out as you look through the closet in your bedroom. trinity comes into the room when she responds, "nope. haven't seen it, babes." she leans against the door frame, watching you look through your closet.

unlike you, trinity was already dressed. it was around ten am and practice started at twelve pm, so you forced her to get up eight to get ready. she groaned the entire time and demanded kisses after she did every part of her routine. you happily obligated every time.

"ugh.." you let out a groan. just deciding to give up on your idea of being extra comfy in your pajama pants and instead grabbing some black sweatpants. at least it matches your white graphic tee and the grey jacket you planned to wear out. you turn, dropping the sweatpants on your bed before coming over to trinity. "are you sure you haven't seen them?" you mumble into her chest after hugging her. trinity straightens up to hug you back properly. swaying a bit as she rests her face against the top of her head.

"nope. i don't even remember you having a pair of mickey mouse pajama pants. maybe you just made that up"

"wow, am i being gaslight right now?" you joke making her laugh loudly. the hug goes on for a long moment before you pull away. "gotta slip on these pants so we can go. i want to stop by that brunch place you like to get breakfast," you move away from the door and go to stand next to your bed.

"what? the spirit cafeteria breakfast food isn't good enough for you anymore?" trinity leans back against the doorframe. a badly hidden smirk on her lips as she watches you near your bed.

"don't you know? when someone gets famous they have higher standards. it comes with the fame," you put on a fake sad tone when saying the last sentence. trinity snorts, rolling her eyes. "oh god, where has my humble girlfriend gone?" she says.

"she's dead," you shrug before glancing at the clock sitting on one of your nightstands, "alright. get out so i can change."

"i can't watch my own girlfriend?"

"sorry, no. that choice expired after the last time we didn't go anywhere," you give her a fake pout before making a shoing gesture. the american player lets out a long groan before moving away from your room. going off into the kitchen to eat up half of your snacks.

it doesn't take long for you to get fully ready. having to also do your hair and find your training kit which somehow ended up in the guest bedroom. trinity and you leave out of the house at 10:40. with you carrying both of y'all bags since trinity claimed her arms hurt. you throw the bags into the back seat before getting into the driver's seat. trinity was already in the passenger seat before you put the bags away. you get ready to drive off, but is stopped by trinity saying, "wait!"

"what?" you look over at her, a confused expression on your face. the american player just smiles, "i have to go grab something. i forgot."

you just shrug when she gets out of the car. five minutes after going into the house, trinity comes back out. the shock on your face can't even be described as you watch trinity walk out of the house in your mickey mouse pajama pants. the one that she specifically said she didn't even knew you had.

trinity gets into the car just like before. snapping in her seat belt before looking over at you, "alright. let's go! i'm still starvinggg."

you give her a blank stare. thinking that would be enough for her to realize the current irony going on, but nope, trinity just looks away from you. focusing on connecting her playlist to the aux. "you know ashley texted me yesterday and she's actually getting along well in north carolina. i never thought i would hear her say that, weird," trinity's face scrunches up in slight disgust before shrugging.

"baby.."

"what?"

"why do you have on my pajama pants? i was looking for those!" you say as you pull out of the driveway. the american player side eyes you before looking out of the window instead of directly at you.

"i don't know what you're talking about," after saying this trinity tries to change the subject, but you aren't letting up. you keep reminding her of the earlier conversation you two had, but trinity denies that it even happens.

you drop the topic at brunch. enjoying the moments of eating nicely made bacon and pancakes while trinity gossips her head off. you try to bring it back up when y'all get back in the car to drive to practice, but trinity still doesn't let up so you drop it.

practice goes by smoothly with trinity annoying you every five minutes. you two go back to your place afterwards and slow down for the rest of the day. it's around ten pm when you bring the topic back up; and it wasn't even your fault.

trinity is in the shower while you're scrolling on twitter. mostly seeing fan tweets and bad jokes when a post about trinity catches your eye. on the tweet is the photo the washington spirit posted on instagram of trin's pre-practice outfit. she's waving in the photo while walking, with you trailing closely behind her. the tweet says the way the pants don't even reach trin's ankles. we all know who pants those are 😭

you immediately send that to trinity's phone. ready to start up the conversation once again after your thoughts were affirmed by some stranger on twitter; thank you to that fan.

© thinkingaboutjaedyn

#trinity rodman x reader #trinity rodman #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[itsjaywalkers]

jegulus & 71 pleaseee :))

i love all your writing btw!!!!

this prompt gave me an excuse to write this silly lil scene i've had stuck in my mind for days SO THANK U FOR THAT BABE

if u recognise what this is loosely based on . no u don't . i'm going thru something okay .

also !! thank u so much nonnie i'm very happy to hear it !! <3

71. "Kiss me, quick!"

Regulus doesn't know how he's managed to land himself a date with James Potter, but he isn't really complaining.

Or, well, maybe he is complaining a little bit, because, technically, it isn't a real date.

He thinks that, to all intents and purposes, though, it's absolutely a date. They're at a restaurant, sitting in the same side of a booth, and they keep gazing into each others eyes, smiling sweetly and giggling while they decide what they want to order.

Regulus can totally pretend this is real if he ignores the not-so-subtle glances James keeps throwing to the couple a few tables away from them. Or how he keeps whispering under his breath what he wants Regulus to do so they look more convincing. Or the fact that James chose to ask him to be his fake date through gritted teeth and a pinched brow.

He supposes it might be kind of his fault. Regulus hasn't been very nice to James, although there's been a considerable improvement since they met, which he believes should be more appreciated.

But, then again, the Regulus of seven months ago wasn't pathetically in love with James Potter.

Regulus misses him dearly. It was so much easier to keep his reputation intact when he didn't have to make an actual effort.

"I'm gonna put my arm around your shoulders," James informs him with a smile. It looks genuine, and it would've fooled Regulus if he didn't know the other man as well as he does.

He nods, offering a smile of his own that despite being considerably smaller, it's actually sincere. Regulus isn't too worried about it, though. Unlike James, he's an excellent actor, the best of their generation if he says so himself, and it's not hard to believe that he'd play his role perfectly.

Even if it's one as unbecoming as being James Potter's boyfriend.

As he said he would, James wraps an arm around him, and Regulus has to will his body to remain cool and relaxed but not too relaxed, or else he'll end up melting against James' body.

He's just so warm. Regulus reckons the other man ought to go see a doctor about it, get it checked, because it shouldn't be normal for a human being to feel so welcoming, so safe.

Regulus shivers, and he isn't sure if it's due to how disgusted he is by his own train of thought, or how well he seems to fit, tucked against James' side.

"I'm gonna put my head on your shoulder," he mutters, tone surprisingly even. Since he's already doing this, he might as well take advantage of it and properly enjoy it.

"Good idea," James murmurs, sounding excited, his eyes fixed on the guy sitting right in front of Macdonald.

Regulus thinks he'd feel more jealous if it weren't because this whole thing is a mere ruse to teach that asshole a lesson after breaking James' heart.

Still, he wishes James was paying attention to him. He's the Regulus Black, after all. It shouldn't be a choice in the first place.

"Oh," James gasps, squirming a little in his place and jostling Regulus' head a little from where it's resting on his shoulder. "He's finally noticed us."

Regulus can barely supress the urge to roll his eyes.

"Maybe we should turn it up a bit, then," he suggests, getting more comfortable and pressing even closer to the other man.

"You're right," James agrees without missing a beat, as if it's not completely unheard of, James admitting to Regulus being right about something. "I'm gonna whisper something in your ear, and you're gonna laugh about it. I know it must be difficult for you, but—"

"Pretending you're funny?" Regulus cuts him off, batting his lashes up at him all coyly. "It's nearly impossible, but unlike others, I do have the acting skills, so I think I'll manage."

James glares down at him, the gesture poorly disguised by a grin. The matching one Regulus gives him in response is totally genuine.

The other man leans down, until his lips are grazing Regulus' earlobe teasingly, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to keep an embarrassing noise from escaping.

"You're the most insufferable person I've ever met," James whispers, his breath hitting Regulus' skin with every word. "And I can't wait for this date to be over."

Oh, Regulus couldn't relate more. He's starting to come too close to popping a fucking boner for comfort.

He laughs, too loud and too eager, behaving like a stupid schoolgirl with a crush, and when realisation dawns on him, he does his best to ignore that he is basically a schoolgirl with a crush.

Regulus thinks that this must be what hitting rock bottom feels like.

"Fuck, he's looking this way," James says, still way too close to Regulus' ear, to his fucking neck. "He's actually looking this way. Oh my god, I can't believe this is working!"

"That makes two of us," Regulus huffs after daring to take a peek and discovering that James' annoying ex is, in fact, focused on them and their cheesy display. He even seems to be shooting daggers at them.

"Shit, Gideon looks so mad," James comments, positively giddy at the thought. "We gotta do something else, something that actually drives the message home."

"And what would that message be?" Regulus drawls, tilting his face the slightest bit, making it seem like they're actually having a Moment.

"Probably 'you're a fucking prick and I'm glad we're over and you're gonna regret playing with me like you did.'"

Regulus hums, considering, and then his mouth is opening before he even has the opportunity to think about it. "Kiss me, then."

James splutters, eyes widening comically and jaw almost dropping to the floor. Regulus wants to snap at him for breaking character after all their hard work, but now that James has decided to fuck up so badly, someone's gotta keep their charade afloat.

"What?" he nearly yells, and it's almost physically painful for Regulus, holding back his scowl.

"Fucking keep it down," Regulus hisses, his expression resembling a lovesick fool's. "How do you want this to look believable otherwise? Especially after sabotaging us like this."

James has no business looking as offended as he does right now. If anything, Regulus should be the one sporting that aggrieved frown, considering the circumstances.

"Shut up," James grumbles, all petulantly like a child. "I don't want to fucking kiss you."

Regulus swallows the sudden wave of nausea and the pieces of his broken heart, and arches a judging eyebrow.

"And you think I do?" he questions with a sniff. "I'm doing this to help, but if you'd rather ruin your own plan because of your stupid pride, then be my guest."

"I know you're not just lecturing me about pride, of all things—"

"James, I think he's about to get up. Fuck, what if he comes here? Shit, this is—kiss me, quick!"

"Excuse me, he's doing what!?" James whips his head around in mild panic, just to see that Gideon really is pushing his chair away from the table, all his attention on them.

"James," Regulus urges him, elbowing him harshly on the side.

It takes James a couple of seconds to return his focus to Regulus, at least a dozen emotions flickering behind his eyes. "I'm not—I don't think we—"

With a long-suffering sigh, Regulus grips the front of James' shirt and pulls him in, clashing their mouths together and swallowing James' surprised gasp.

He tries to tell himself it's fine, that he's kissed other people before when shooting scenes for his show, and this isn't any different. Regulus didn't feel anything back then, because it was just work, just another role, and in a way, this thing with James is, too.

But it doesn't matter how much he tries, how he keeps repeating these words in his head like a mantra. His heart still speeds up as he moves his mouth against James', who seems completely frozen on the spot. His cheeks still burn, the blush probably being noticeable from a distance. His body still relaxes against James', seeking more of that lovely warmth, more of James' touch.

It's over way too soon, but the other man isn't responding, and if he keeps it up for too long with James just sitting there and taking it, their audience is bound to notice.

Regulus pulls away with a truly idiotic smile, and he hates that he doesn't even have to fake it.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmurs, while James blinks down at him.

He's about to turn around, search for Gideon and hopefully relish in his jealous expression, when he feels a hand on his jaw. The grip is unforgiving, bordering on desperate, and before Regulus has the chance to question it, or swat the contact away, James is pulling him in for another kiss.

This one's different. Less performative. Regulus wasn't actually acting in the first one, because he's been wanting to kiss the other man for a few months now, but he was still hyperaware of Gideon, of what they were trying to do. Of James being completely unresponsive.

In this case, however, it's sort of impossible to focus on anything that isn't James, who's kissing him eagerly, hungrily, deepening the kiss the moment Regulus begins reciprocating. He licks at his lips, requesting permission, and Regulus grants it without a second thought, nothing but white noise inside his brain.

Their tongues tangle, and James makes a keening sound against Regulus' panting mouth. His fingers twitch around the material of James' shirt, a whimper on the tip of his tongue when their teeth clash in their desperation.

Once again, Regulus is the one that puts an end to it, even if it's more out of survival instinct than actual want. You see, they start to get too into it, especially considering they're in a very public place, surrounded by other people.

There's nothing wrong with a bit of snogging, and Regulus has seen way worse than their little make out session. But then James' free hand is gripping onto his waist, pulling Regulus in until he's nearly straddling his lap, blood rushing south at an alarming pace and hips twitching with the need to thrust in search of some friction.

Surprisingly, Regulus still has some sense of self-preservation left.

He captures James' lower lip between his teeth and tugs, dragging another obscene sound out of him, before finally breaking their kiss. Regardless, James doesn't allow him to get far, his hold on him tightening as soon as Regulus attempts to put some space between them.

"Yeah," James exhales, sounding absolutely wrecked. "That wasn't hard at all."

#silly little drabbles #jegulus my beloveds

[melanie-ohara]

A Hunt for Gold

Whumpuary2024, Bonus Day - Prompt: Flinching

Shin struggles to find her place with Sabine and Ahsoka

That's right, there's more! At this point I am mostly just using the prompts, this doesn't technically count as a challenge entry

AO3 Here

Sabine sat at the desk in Huyang's workshop and carefully soldered the powered plates back into her beskar's harness. She was right: the damage was too severe to be properly repaired and unless she could somehow build a forge out of twigs and shrubbery she couldn't reclaim the metal to start again. The remnants might give her enough protection from a glancing blaster bolt, but that was it. She had patched it together as best she could, and for now its appearance reminded her a little too much of Thrawn's reanimated storm troopers. She shuddered at the image. A new paint job would hide the scars, at least. Only her helmet and vambraces were still intact enough to stand up to a lightsaber - but now that Shin had started to settle in on the ship - uneasily, but it was a start - she wasn't sure how much she needed to worry about lightsabers any more. Sabine leaned back in the chair and her hand dropped to rest on her stomach, above the stab wound Shin had gifted her when they first met. Now we match, she thought to herself. 

"I want to dye my hair."

Sabine jumped at the sound of Shin's voice. She had been so wrapped up in herself, she didn't even notice the door opening. Now that Shin had properly recovered from the surgery and didn't need the compression vest any more she had started wearing whatever she could find that was clean, which today was most of Sabine's training clothes with one of Ahsoka's robes draped artlessly over the top for warmth.

"Um… okay," she said, taken aback. 

Shin paused and looked down at the workbench and Sabine's armour. "You're busy," she said, and turned to go.

"No," Sabine said quickly, standing up. "I have time, I mean." Shin didn't like being cooped up and it was rare to catch her in such a good mood. She was quickly learning to make the best of them.

"Your armour," Shin said, but Sabine waved her hand dismissively. 

"It can wait." Shin stepped aside so Sabine could leave the room and lead the way back to her cabin. "Are we just bleaching your roots, or did you have a colour in mind?" 

Shin touched the braid that hung down over shoulder, her fingers playing over the gemstones woven into it. "Green," she said.

Shin sat in the chair at Sabine's desk and talked more about how she wanted it to look while Sabine mixed the dyes and loaded them into applicator capsules for her spray tool. She got to work on her dark roots first. Shin shuddered a little as the first puff of cold pigment made contact with the top of her head and tensed as Sabine gently combed it in, but she settled in after a moment and let her work.

"What's with the gems?" Sabine asked, to distract herself from the strangely intimate feeling of carefully brushing bleach-white into Shin's hair. 

"Baylan gave them to me," Shin said. "I didn't know what they were at first."

Sabine watched the teeth of the comb part Shin's hair and slip easily through the strands. "And what are they?"

Shin didn't answer for a long time, and Sabine saw her hand travel up to the crystals again. She rolled one between her finger and thumb for a while like she was thinking. "Something he gave up."

Sabine let her have the cryptic answer and backed off. She knew Shin didn't really like talking about Baylan - his leaving hurt much more than her stomach wound, and Sabine didn't want to push her. Instead, she slid the bleach dye out of her spray tool, replaced the nozzle and picked up the cartridge of green dye. She passed Shin a towel to put over her shoulders to protect the tank top she was wearing, though it belonged to Sabine and she wasn't too worried about it getting a burst of colour. With anyone else, Sabine might have draped the towel herself, but Shin didn't like to be touched.

"I'm surprised you're letting me do this," she said, and immediately wished she'd kept it to herself.

"Why?"

Sabine shrugged and fiddled unnecessarily with the settings. "I just… well, you don't like being touched, that's all."

Shin said nothing, and Sabine cleared her throat awkwardly. Just get on with it and shut up, she thought to herself, and started to carefully coat the lower strands of Shin's hair with a faint mist of green. She hadn't dyed hair this way since before the war, when she had given herself a purple ombré in the Ghost's refresher. Hera had been furious at the mess, but she had a lot more experience now - as well as better tools. While the dye was still wet, she back-combed it quickly but carefully into Shin's hair, varying the lengths of her strokes so the dye reached higher in some places than others, so the fading colour didn't look too neat. That had been her own idea: Shin was too wild for the Coruscant-salon perfect look Sabine had been trying for as a teenager. 

Working on Shin's hair felt like painting. Like art. There was the same connection she felt to the canvas and the paint, only this time it was a living, breathing person under the hissing tool. She wanted to touch her, and comb her hair with fingers instead. To rub the dye into individual strands, one by one, until it was exactly how she envisioned it.

"I don't mind you," Shin said suddenly. It had been at least five minutes since either of them had last spoken.

"Sorry?" 

"Touching." Shin's hands were in her lap and twisting over each other awkwardly. "It's okay, if it's you."

Sabine almost dropped the spray tool, and she was glad Shin was facing away and couldn't see the blush on her face. "Oh," she managed dumbly, and then, "good." 

"Yes," Shin said. "Otherwise my roots would still be showing."

Sabine wasn't sure if it was a joke - Shin delivered every word with the same inflection, whether it was a death threat or asking for a drink - but she let out an awkward chuckle. She brushed at Shin's hair a few more times, and then put her tools down to examine her work. 

"How do I look?" Shin asked, shaking her hair out and then rolling her neck to ease the tension from sitting still for so long.

Sabine stepped out from behind the chair and looked at her. "Beautiful," She said. It was the truth - the green highlights had an ethereal gleam amongst the pale blonde that made her eyes shimmer and her skin shine. The pale flush her words brought to her cheeks made for a very pretty contrast too. Sabine shook herself and picked up a hand-mirror to show Shin the back, and she nodded approvingly. Her oh-so-rare, oh-so-endearing smile spread on her lips and it was so infectious Sabine couldn't help smiling back.

"I like it," Shin said. 

Before she had even thought about it being a bad idea, Sabine had leaned over her head and gently placed a kiss on Shin's forehead. She flinched like Sabine had just slapped her and almost tripped over her feet in her rush to get out of the chair and then out of the room.

"Wait!" Sabine called out, but by the time she had followed her out Shin had disappeared down the ship's ramp and into the Noti camp below. She was about to run after her when Ahsoka cleared her throat. Sabine hadn't even noticed her, but she was once again standing in the doorway of her room. 

"Trouble?" she asked, one of her not-quite-eyebrows raised. 

Sabine made a face and awkwardly clasped her hands in front of her. "I may have done something," she admitted.

"Like what?" 

Sabine braced herself. "Like kiss Shin."

She didn't know exactly how she expected Ahsoka to react. Anger seemed unlikely, but not disappointment or frustration. She had taught her the Jedi code, and how it forbade attachment, and Sabine knew this looked like another of her arrogant rebellions. 

Ahsoka smiled with a strange, almost knowing look in her eyes. "Are you going after her?" she asked.

Sabine frowned. "You're not… annoyed?" she asked. "The code - "

"My Master was married," Ahsoka interrupted. "His Master had a son nobody knew about, and I… well, let's not go into that now."

"Oh, we're going into that now," Sabine said, a little stunned by the idea that the stoic Ahsoka Tano might have dalliances in her past. 

Ahsoka shook her head. "Not now." There was a hint of sadness in her gaze that convinced Sabine to drop it. Instead she dropped into a chair at the centre table and put her head in her hands with a sigh.

"I scared her off," she said, pulling her head up to look at Ahsoka. "I don't think she'll want to see me." 

Ahsoka pushed herself off from the doorframe and started towards the exit ramp. 

"Whoa, hey!" Sabine said, getting up like she was going to stop her somehow. "What are you doing?"

Ahsoka didn't say anything, just dropped down off the ramp to the ground below.

*

She thought Shin might have walked off, maybe down towards the river or out towards the mountains, but Ahsoka instead found her sat almost exactly in the middle of the Noti camp. They had all shut up their pods and powered them down, making her seem like the only living thing for miles around.

"Everything okay?" Ahsoka asked as she approached.

"They're all afraid of me," Shin said. Ahsoka looked around at the deserted camp and nodded a little. The Noti had locked themselves in as soon as they saw her.

"You were trying to kill them not long ago," she pointed out as she sat down next to her.

"Not them," Shin said. "That was the bandits. I only wanted Sabine."

Ahsoka looked across at her, taking in her new hair colour and the regret in her pale eyes. "Well you've got her now," she said. "Maybe not the way you expected."

"I didn't mean to run," Shin admitted. She picked at the scrubby ground in front of her and sighed. "I wish I didn't." 

Ahsoka resisted the instinct to lay a hand on her shoulder, the way she would have done for Barriss all those years ago. "This isn't training," she said. Though she wasn't sure how Baylan had brought up his padawan, she knew he was a dyed-in-the-wool temple Jedi, and suspected he had driven her just as hard as Anakin had her. Or Luminara had Barriss. "It's hard to see at first, but it's different." 

"I don't know what you mean," Shin said. 

"You don't have to push yourself," Ahsoka explained weakly. She was not the person to be giving this talk, and she could imagine the infuriating way Anakin would smirk at her inability to communicate. "Whatever is between you and Sabine isn't a challenge to overcome, it's not… a trial to endure." Ahsoka sighed. "I'm no good at this," she admitted. 

"No," Shin agreed, and Ahsoka smiled. Her honesty was refreshing, and reminded her not to try and make everything a lesson.

"Sabine doesn't want to rush you," she said. "She just doesn't know how not to rush herself."

Shin plucked a blade of grass and flicked it away. "I don't know how to feel this way," she admitted. "It's never happened before."

Ahsoka felt a sad smile creep over her face. She knew how that felt: there had been nothing in her training to prepare her for how it felt to see Barriss smile at a joke, and her training was all she knew. Before she had understood it, everything had changed. "Sabine knows," she said. "And you'll get the hang of it."

Shin stood up and stretched. "I'm going for a walk," she announced. "Tell Sabine…" 

She trailed off, unsure, but Ahsoka nodded. "I will," she said. 

Shin stared off at the ship for a while, and Ahsoka wondered what she was thinking behind her glassy, green-blue eyes. Without another word, she turned away and walked off. 

#fanfic #writing #whumpuary2024 #shin hati #wolfwren #star wars #ahsoka #sabine wren #whumpuaryno14 #look at these idiots #sapphic star wars

[liverpool-enjoyer]

footballers reacting to a younger player calling them dad (long as hell version)

anon requested it n so it shall be!! ngl for some a the teams i simply googled "youngest player on INSERTTEAMHERE." ive never written formal fic for football so i apologize for this being iffy n also for the SHITTON of innacuracies theres bound to be. oh n also that everyone talks like a twenty year old american college student

leo:

"Thanks, dad," Warren said nonchalantly as Leo helped him up off the ground. He had stumbled a little and fell during the last part of training.

Leo only narrowed his eyes a little in response. Dad?

Poor Warren clasped a hand over his mouth, seemingly mortified. "I'm so sorry," he said, chuckling even though he didn't look like he found anything funny. "I guess I just- And then- Yeah I'll, uh, get going now." He scampered away not once looking back.

Leo got to thinking as me made his way back to the locker room. He's used to being called that; he has children of his own. But he's never considered a teammate of his as his own child. Sure, he was helpful, a mentor maybe, but fatherly wasn't how he would describe his behavior with his younger teammates.

There was only one thing to do, obviously. Ask a younger teammate.

When he got to the locker room he approached Neymar, who didn't notice him at first.

"Ney."

His friend's face brightened upon noticing Leo was there. "Yeah, what's up?" he asked, before taking a swig of water.

"Do you see me as a father figure?"

In response, Leo was met with Neymar choking and coughing. "NO, GOD NO-" he stopped to cough again and catch his breath. "WHAT GAVE YOU THAT IDEA?"

"Nothing, jeez, calm down."

---

ney:

"Woah, not like that, you could hurt yourself," Neymar told Bitshiabu. He was doing an new training excercise incorrectly, and the last thing PSG needed was a good player pulling or straining something.

Neymar took a minute to show him how to do it properly. "Thanks, dad," the seventeen year old said sarcastically. Despite the snark, he appreciated the help.

Neymar just laughed in response, but for the rest of traning the thought kept bouncing around in the back of his head. 'Dad? I was acting like a dad? Some of them see me as old enough to be their father?'

Well, he was a father, but that was different. His teammates were much older than Davi.

Oh, gosh, was he getting old?

Later in training, when he saw Leo, he grabbed the poor man by the shoulders without so much as a hello. "Leo. Do you think I'm getting old?"

In classic Leo fashion, he looked like he'd rather be anywhere than here, interacting with someone. "Well, technically we all are... You're older now than you were yesterday, so I guess you are get-"

Neymar let out an exasperated sigh, unhappy with that answer.

His next victim was Sergio, who's phone conversation he interrupted to ask him the question of the day.

"Do you think I'm getting old?"

"You interrupted my conversation with Lukita to ask me if-"

"JUST ANSWER."

"SURE, I GUESS. I DON'T CARE."

Damn. Neymar was gonna have to get hammered tonight. To prove he still has it in him.

---

milly:

"What about you, Milly? Any fun weekend plans?" Andy asked. Some of the team were talking about the plans they had for the free weekend they had coming up.

"You bet; I have a date with my new book and chamomile tea."

This earned him a few eye rolls, most noticably from Trent. "Aw, that's so boring! Robbo and I are hitting this new club Saturday night, aren't we, mate?" he reached across the kitchen island to fist bump his friend. "Surely you've got something more fun in mind."

"I might fire up the grill if the weather allows..." Milly started. "Oh, and I should probably get my car checked out; it's been making this weird noise."

"Yeah yeah, we get it, dad, you're boring."

Milly didn't hesitate. "I am nowhere near old enough to be your dad," he said with his typical snark.

"You do act like it though..." the previously quiet Alisson chimed in, peering at his friends from over his coffee mug.

"And you're no spring chicken either," Milly remarked, which shut the goalkeeper up. "Will you lot ever get bored of the 'James is old' joke?"

"Aw, don't be like that, mate," Andy said with a hearty laugh, putting an arm around Milly's neck and ruffling his hair. "You know it's just because we love you!"

Milly sighed. Yeah, he did know, he supposed.

---

kdb:

"I mean," Alvarez said between passes. "You're practically his dad."

Kevin rolled his eyes for what was probably the third time during that conversation.

"Ah, shove it, you know I'm not that old."

"It's not about age," his younger teammate responds, accepting the ball Kevin passed to him. "You're always like... I dunno, dadish."

Kevin just gave Alvarez an absolutely bewildered look. "...Are you actually saying these words?"

"I'm serious, mate! You're always, y'know, taking him out for ice cream after training, making sure he gets home safe, whatever that means-"

Kevin brought up a hand to rub his temple. "Oh my gosh, I don't see him as my kid. Can't I just be nice?"

"No."

"Shove off," Kevin said playfully.

An amused grin crossed Alvarez's face. "Speak of the devil."

Kevin turned to see Erling walking up to the pair.

"Hey guys!" Erling said with a polite wave, and Alvarez waved back.

"You need anything?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, actually," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you think you can give me a ride home after training? Jack drove me but he had to leave early."

"Of course, no problem," he replied without hesitation, and clapped a hand on Erling's shoulder for seemingly no reason.

Erling nodded happily in response. "Thank you, dad!" he said with a bright smile, before walking away as if what he said was completely normal.

It was taking everything Alvarez had in him to not start rolling on the ground with laughter. "What was that about not being his dad?"

"Shaddup."

---

luka:

It was actually Luka who started it.

Everyone entered the locker room very happy, fresh off a 44th minute goal from Rodrygo that had earned them the lead. The young player received hugs and claps on the back from pretty much every player. The attention was well deserved; the goal was a beauty, after all.

One of the last players to congratulate him was Luka. "Good job, hijo!" he said, hugging his teammate. "You were brilliant out there!"

"Gracias, papa," Rodrygo said, casual, even though he had never called him that before. "But it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't set me up for it!"

"Aw, aren't you the sweetest," said Luka, smiling proudly as he ruffled up Rodrygo's short hair beyond repair.

Rodrygo reached up in a futile attempt to fix his hair, and even though it wasn't said out loud, he got the feeling that he could call Luka that anytime he wanted.

---

luis:

Training had long since ended, and everyone was in the locker room, gathering their belongings and talking amongst themselves.

Luis and Kauan had been making small talk, with Luis telling his youngest teammate about some of his exploits and giving him some pointers.

"Y'know," Kauan eventually said. "You kinda remind me of my dad!"

Luis immediately burst into laughter, but it was out of genuine joy rather than condescension.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer. "I'm not that old, kiddo. Now would your dad do THIS?"

Before his teammate could respond, Luis had taken Kauan into a light, non-painful chokehold n given him the strongest noogie he could muster, sending Kauan into a fit of giggling.

When Luis had mercy on the kid and let him go, Kauan needed a minute to catch his breath and compose himself.

Kuan gave Luis a sly grin. "Y'know, my dad does that to me all the time!"

"Damnit."

---

lewa:

It wasn't Gavi's day. Or his week, and it wasn't shaping out to be his month, for that matter.

He didn't know what was wrong; he just wasn't playing like his normal self these past few games. But the crushing blow was this game in particular, when he was subbed off in the first half due to his performance.

The atmosphere in the locker room after the game was still positive, however, as they had won. But Gavi wasn't participating in the celebrating and joking. He had changed and was just sitting by his locker, just... thinking. He hated sulking like this. He felt like he was being dramatic. Maybe he should go.

He didn't notice someone had approached him until he heard his voice.

"Gavi?" Robert asked, voice laced with concern. "What're you doing here all by yourself?"

The younger player just shrugged, blinking away tears that definitely weren't forming.

"May I?" Robert asked, gesturing to the spot next to Gavi on the bench.

Gavi just muttered a quiet "yeah," and Robert sat closely next to him.

Robert took a good look at Gavi, and for a moment he was reminded of his girls.

"You don't seem to be too happy with yourself," the man said.

"Can you blame me?" Gavi asked, trying not to sound sarcastic.

"Well, I understand. But I don't think you should be so hard on yourself," he put an arm around the young player. "You're talented, Gavi, and you're only going to get better from here. You just had a few rough weeks; it's not permanent. And I'm saying that because I really believe it." He smiled warmly at the young man.

Gavi would be lying if he said he didn't feel just a little bit better. He found himself resting his head on the other's shoulder.

"Thank you, dad. I mean- shit, I-"

Robert just chuckled in response. "It's ok, really, I'm honored," he said, holding the other just a little tighter.

---

sergio:

"Hey, dad? Do you-" Vini shut his mouth quickly after he realized what he had just said.

Sergio was on him before the young player could even apologize. "I'm sorry?" he asked, feeling kind enough to at least give the young player a chance to explain himself.

"I don't know, I guess I just got my wires crossed, or something-"

"I thought so. Just don't let it happen again," Sergio said, sounding less angry and more just... irritated. And with that, he left.

Much later in the day, Sergio found himself at Luka's place eating dinner with his teammate, as was pretty much tradition after training.

"Y'know," the team captain said between bites of what Luka made him. "Those kids of ours are really improving. I mean, they were always talented but, y'know..."

Luka just smiled and kept his thoughts to himself. He knew if he made mention of Sergio referring to the young players as their kids, he'd deny it faster than you could say Madrid.

---

pep:

"Don't overwork yourself, Cole, I don't want you getting hurt," Pep said to the young player. It was Cole's first training back after recovering from an injury, so he was prone to hurting himself again.

"Sure thing, dad," Cole said sarcastically.

Pep simply blinked at the young man. He had been managing a long time and had been called many things by all his players over the years. But this was definitely a first for "dad."

After a few seconds of silence, Cole could tell that his attempt at a joke was not well received. He simply stared at the man staring back at him, waiting for whatever stupid prize awaited, and kind of hoping he would just die right now.

"Laps."

Cole's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Hm?"

"Laps."

"Uh... don't you think that's too exerting? You just said I should take it e-"

"Laps!"

And without another word, Cole took off running. It wasn't until three laps in that he realized he never asked how many of these things he should do.

Shit.

---

klopp:

"We've won our last five matches," Darwin said.

"And it's raining outside, so traning will be, uh... Not as good," chimed in Harvey.

"And we promise to train extra hard tomorrow! Don't we, lads?" Cody asked, turning to his teammates, who nodded furiously in response.

"I still don't know if you can afford to miss it; training every day is important," Jurgen told the boys. There was a new movie out that the boys wanted to forego traning to go and see. Rather than sending one person to him to be The Negotiator, the boys thought it was better to approach him with their request all at once.

"But papaaaaaa!!" damn near all of the teammates chimed at once.

Jurgen clenched his expensive-ass teeth. These boys always knew how to get to him. He loved being reminded that they loved him and saw them as a father, as someone to be trusted and depended upon. He couldn't even remember when they started calling him that.

He loud out a long, overly-dramatic sigh.

"Fine."

In return, he received a chorus of cheers. An onlooker would think these boys just watched their teammate win them a penalty shootout.

In no time at all he was swarmed with hugs and "thank you, papa"s from too many of the boys to count.

The boys all stopped at the door when they saw their gaffer wasn't following them.

"Aren't you coming?" Alisson asked, eyes kind and welcoming.

"Do you want me to?" questioned Jurgen, looking at his boys' faces for signs of approval. Most of them just rolled their eyes at the suggestion that they didn't want him to join them.

Alisson approached him, took him by the arm, and dragged him to the door himself, Jurgen laughing while following him.

"Of course we do, papa."

#do you have any idea how old i feel knowing there are soccer players BORN IN 2006 #the only score you should be concerned about is the one you got on your algebra test!!! #look ik lukas n sergios are short #you cant expect me to write lengthy r*al stuff you jus cant #did i project my issues with school onto poor gavi??? yeah maybe whatre you a cop #leo messi #neymar #neymessi #sergio ramos #james milner #andy robertson #liverpool #liverpool fc #lfc #trent alexander arnold #alisson becker #kevin de bruyne #erling haaland #luka modric #modramos #luis suarez #robert lewandowski #gavi #pep guardiola #jurgen klopp #darwin nunez #harvey elliott #cody gakpo

[nixie-writes-aot]

So, I have several ideas for a Levi x Male reader, but I'll ask them individually so you can pick & choose which you do first shfnrjjd

one idea is that the reader works with, and trains the horses that the scout regiment uses. Something happens, and they need a horse training expert. Maybe Levi over hears/sees the reader scolding some people who have stable duty for not being as meticulous as possible when cleaning stalls/tack/horses

one thing leads to another, and they start seeing each other more frequently (maybe by Hang Zoes doing or maybe he wants to make sure their doing their job properly). Maybe there's even a miss understanding between them in which he thinks that their a Cadet at first and he treats them as such only for, like, Erwin to have come on the premise of introducing them an is like 'Oh good, my two best men already know each other'

Idk, I just wanna see the reader be a horse guy and also get a hot boyfriend 🤣🤣

"Stop Horsing Around, Cadet"

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x male reader

Word Count: 1.6k

You sat down in the office, dressed in the uniform of the Scouts. Technically, you were one. You were simply one that normally was found in Wall Maria. Something you enjoyed, all the open land. You had survived that due to a horse you now refused to part with. Your commander respected that, of course. Speaking of your commander, he was sitting at the desk, looking to you with a polite smile. 

"Ah. (Y/N). Its a pleasure to see you again." Erwin greeted.

You only smiled in turn. "Erwin, you can drop the formalities." You reassured, "Last we saw each other… Shadis was still in command, wasn't he?" 

"This job tends to be very difficult." Erwin stated, defending his predecessor it seemed, "But yes. He's in the Training Corps now. Sending new trainees to us, even." 

You were quiet for a moment, thinking back to Shadis picking you out specifically. You had been a cadet, alongside Nile and Erwin. You and Erwin had been so excited to see the outside world but then you proposed changing to working on horses exclusively after your first expedition. You had always thought that Shadid merely pitied you but… Regardless, you were put to working on horses. Through the years, that's what you've been doing. Now, here you were. With Erwin once again. 

"I should leave you to your job. I'm sure you remember where the stalls are. It really is a pleasure." Erwin's smile had always been infectious. As if he knew everything was going to be okay. You smiled, nodding. 

"It is. I'm sure we'll be able to talk again soon. Being a commander suits you, Erwin." You hummed, standing and leaving the room.

Just before you left, you heard him thank you. Well, here you were again. The Survey Corps base. You made a beeline for the training yards and horse stalls. It being lunch, well the start of it, you didn't exactly expect anyone to be out training. Really, today you had no intention of training yourself or the horses. You were still exhausted from traveling from Wall Maria to Wall Rose. All you wanted to do, really, was inspect the horses. Meet them properly. You turned the corner, out the doors of the building and then another corner. It was a pleasant surprise, seeing two soldiers with the horses. As you got closer, however, it only annoyed and frustrated you.

"Attention!" You huffed. 

The two cadets jolted, whipping around with wide eyes and looks of complete and utter shock. One was a ginger haired woman with an orange eyed gaze and the other a brown haired man. They were certainly new to you, if not the entirety of the Survey Corps. Both were quick to salute, albeit completely unaware of who you were or if you actually were one of their superiors. 

"You don't clean them that way, cadets!" You scolded, rolling into a tangent of sorts as to how someone would tend to the horses. You even stepped forward, approaching the horse in question who snorted, you smiled and ran your hand down the horse's mane. 

"You have to be gentle, kind. He's a forgiving beast," you turned your head to glare at them, "so you're going to fucking apologize for being so rough."

The brunette gaped at you, ready to make some stupid retort, you ascertained. However, the ginger elbowed him in the gut as she nodded, "We're sorry, horse! Aren't we, Oluo?" His name was spat with annoyance. You watched Oluo, who had crumpled to the ground with a wheeze, stand and nod. "... Y-yeah. We're uh- we're sorry." 

You huffed, "Fuck off now."

"We're uh- we're supposed to-" Oluo started only to be met with a poisonous glare from you.

The two cadets were quick to take their leave as you picked up the brush, tending to the horse they tried to. The horse nickered, looking to you with fondness. You smiled gently. "Yeah, hi there. You rest today, okay? We had quite the day yesterday. Have you slept? I hope so." Your voice was calm and quiet. This was your horse, the one Erwin had let you keep.

You were so engrossed in your horse, you called him Snowbell for his white coat, that you hadn't noticed the short man watching you throughout the interaction. 

—

You had woken decently early the next morning after going to sleep shortly before curfew. Albeit, it wasn't a curfew for you nor the higher ups like Erwin or, the two that Erwin introduced you to yesterday, Miche and Hange. You walked to the mess hall, getting your food and sitting by yourself. With Erwin, Hange, and Miche still not there, you had no one else. Well, thats what you thought. Within moments, two cadets joined you. That ginger, Petra as you had learned from Erwin, and Oluo. 

"Are these spots free?" She politely asked.

By the time you confirmed that they were Oluo had already sat down, catching you off guard as you nodded. Petra sat beside him, both of them having the same as you. Some potato soup and a piece of stale bread. Oluo watched you, taking note of your more casual demeanor.

"You're a cadet, aren't you?" He bluntly questioned.

"I'm not." You answered, taking a bite of your bread.

"Oluo! You can't just ask that!" Petra scolded him.

You almost wanted to laugh. Those two reminded you of Nile and Erwin in the early days. Not that Erwin and Nile bickered like that but rather that the two seemed like good friends, much like Nile and Erwin. You sighed, finishing up your food quickly as the two bickered. 

"Well, see you two around." You stated as you stood, "I have horses to tend to." 

Petra stared at you as you left as Oluo merely nodded. You had no intention to be that social that early in the morning. Not if it wasn't with the horses, at least. You made your way outside, rounding the corner to the stables. You had no new horses to really train at the moment, waiting for breeders to bring in horses of age. Especially after the disaster of Wall Maria falling, you could only imagine how many horses were really in the territory within Wall Maria. It was the largest of the three. 

"Oi." A voice called from behind you.

You turned, hearing a voice, eyes falling on a man of short stature with black hair in an undercut. His grey eyes staring at you, brows furrowed downwards and arms crossed over his chest. You ascertained that from how Hange spoke about the superior you had yet to actually meet, this was him. Humanities' Strongest. Captain Levi Ackerman. 

"Whats up?" You casually questioned.

If it surprised Levi, you didn't notice any change in his demeanor, save for the man shifting his weight to one leg.

"Laps, brat." He growled, "Give me thirty of them."

You wanted to tell this man to fuck off, that you weren't some cadet. Except, by technicalities, he was still your superior. You only nodded, jogging to the dirt track. You could feel his eyes on you as you ran, not at your fastest, naturally. That would've been a mistake that would lead to your exhaustion. 

By the time you finished, the captain was with a few cadets. Petra and Oluo, you noticed, were with them. Alongside two men you didn't recognize. One with longer blonde hair and the other with short brown hair. You didn't question it. You simply went to your horses, letting them out in their fenced area. You watched the herd of horses accept Snowbell. 

—

Three weeks had passed. You had interacted with Levi a few times, albeit he seemed to have stopped expecting you to drop and give him twenty for every-damn-thing you did "wrong". Which, in reality, was simply you not training as he expected. It had led to a few pleasant conversations. You might even dare to call Levi a friend, as you did with Hange and Erwin. Hell, you found yourself attracted to the damn insufferable captain. You and Hange had turned it into a game of sorts, you had bet that he would have to be told that you weren't actually a cadet. Hange had bet that Levi would figure it out.

You were leaning against the fence, watching Levi approach with Erwin in tow. You let a smirk dance across your face as you wave. 

"Captain, Erwin. How are you doing today?" You hummed.

Levi narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at the casual way you spoke to the commander of the Survey Corps. Erwin only smiled, "I am well, (Y/N), thank you for asking." He looked between Levi and yourself. 

"Hange told me you have met our newest expert, Levi. I'm pleased that you know (Y/N)." Erwin hummed, a knowing glint in his icy blue eyes as he looked to you, "I do hope Hange pays up, old friend." 

With that Erwin made his exit, leaving you and Levi there by the pen where the horses were relaxing for the afternoon. Levi shot a glare after Erwin before glaring at you in the same way, you only smirked. 

"You made a bet regarding me?" Levi questioned.

"I did. I wondered how long it might take you." You stated, amused, "Hange bet that you'd figure it out all on your own, if that helps." You pointed out.

"It doesn't." Levi bluntly stated, "Tch, fucking brat." 

You snickered, playfully nudging him, "Hey, don't feel bad. Captain Grumpy."

Levi let out an exasperated sigh, "I can still make you run until sun down." He pointed out, "I'm still your superior, brat."

"But you won't." You hummed, "Besides. That would mean you miss out on seeing me yell at some well intentioned "brats", won't it?" 

You took note of the ghost of a smile on his face, just watching him cover it with a quiet tch. 

"Thats what I thought. I'll yell, you watch. We can call it a date!" You exclaimed, more than happy when you saw his expression melt away into surprise and then a real smile.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #reader insert #male reader #snk #aot #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #nix writes #nix dreams

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Hello...First, I'm really grateful in finding your blog. I'm a newbie in this fandom (Yuumori), just started watching the anime and reading the manga from early this year. Hope you don't mind if I ask a few things....

When Sherlock and William met again in the train, Will never told his name before, so Sherlock found out himself right? And that train scene ("Catch me if you can, Mr. Holmes" & Sherlock's reaction), is it Will and Sherlock's way of flirting? That scene made me interested in Yuumori in the first place.... So for William, Sherlock is the first person who understands him as a person. Does that mean, Will's family and friends don't want to try to know him better (so Will felt lonely)? At the final act, when Will said that Sherlock has bested him, does it mean Sherlock is smarter than Will? Also is Bond a woman crossdress as a man or really a trans man? Sorry for my stupid questions....

Really agree with you that Sherlock and William's relationship is definitely queer....

Correct, William never told Sherlock his name (let alone Louis's). This was a display of Sherlock's investigational abilities.

(Flirting. It was flirting. It was a peacocking mating display. Tell me I'm wrong.)

Whatever it was, it was certainly Sherlock trying to impress William and potentially catch him off guard. He definitely suspected Liam by then, and I think the entire The Two Detectives arc was Sherlock testing him for it and he walked off that train certain.

Whatever the fuck William was doing on the train was honestly very embarrassing for him and mortifying for Louis and very very enjoyable for Sherlock and us readers.

(It's also flirting, but tbh, I think they started flirting when they first met anyway)

Whatever it was, it was certainly William indicating he was willing to play the game Sherlock was offering.

I do not think it's fair to William's friends and family to suggest they don't "want" to know him better or that they don't try. They clearly do on multiple occasions. But there is something very different in someone clearly getting you from the start because they are like you. Mycroft knows Sherlock very well, and yet William was still the first person Sherlock felt properly seen by.

It's not about Knowing, it's about Understanding, about Relating.

William was definitely lonely as hell, but that wasn't because he didn't have people who knew him and loved him around him. It was because he didn't have someone who understood him in a way he'd never even realized he wanted.

There's an old chart from Jump SQ where technically William was ranked as "smarter" than Sherlock by the creators, but I think that was taking into consideration the situations as a whole, and I don't think it's a fair statement.

Anyway, what William really said on that bride wasn't so much about Sherlock winning, but him losing. He was admitting defeat to Sherlock.

This wasn't because Sherlock is "smarter" than him. Sherlock did something he'd never anticipated and had achieved his own goals, while William was proven to have been wrong the entire time.

It was, imo, a sign that William had begun to be inspired to live and see the world differently.

Bond is definitely and undeniably a trans man or a nonbinary person. It's very frustrating to me that people still doubt Bond's trans-ness.

#Yuukoku no Moriarty #Moriarty the Patriot

[goth-automaton]

crashes through ceiling excuse me i'm late Lemme bring up one of Twitter Exclusive OCs, what about 5, 12, 19 from the 'GET TO KNOW THE OC ASKS' and 4 and 14 from 'some OC questions…' for… ✨Svetlana✨!

Haha, I knew you'll choose a "Metal Gear Chaos: RE//connection" character, just wasn't sure, if Emma or Svetlana. ^^ I'll be happy to answer questions about Emma too, of course! 💜

But yes, Svetlana Ivanovna Raikova, our dearest Yakutian ball of unresolved traumas (whom I still haven't properly introduced even on Twitter, 'cause I'm a baby and scared of drawing cyborgs, lol). 💜

GET TO KNOW THE OC ASKS

5. Does your OC have a signature weapon and/or attack? How long did they train to master it?

I wouldn't call it "signature", but Svetlana's usual weapons are sniper riffles and army combat knives. She's also good in fistfights – being a ridiculously strong cyborg definitely helps with it.

She started learning to fight shortly after her initial cyborgisation, at the age of 18, and is still fighting while pushing 60 (and later), so, yeah, she had decades to master fighting.

12. Is your OC cynical or optimistic? Who or what shaped their outlook on life?

Hooooo boiiiiiiiii. Svetlana is cynical as hell. Or at least has been for most of her life – being raised by a mother, who was nearly catatonic due to severe trauma and depression, and later watching said mother slowly die from lung infection, when you're only 5, will do that to you. For almost her whole life Svetlana was obsessed with getting revenge on Big Boss, whom she blames (rightfully, btw) for death of her mother. And then she was made aware, that this revenge actually made no fucking sense. And had a little mental breakdown/existential crisis because of it. Poor girl, her whole world shattered.

HOWEVER. After Emma talked her into joining Philanthropy, Svetlana actually chilled out a little and, while she still is more on the cynical side, her world view definitely isn't as negative, as it used to be. She even made friends! She! Hard to believe, isn't it???

19. Has your OC ever had an experience with the paranormal or the divine? What happened? Was it a one time encounter or is it a normal part of their life? Did they find it terrifying or thrilling?

Okay, so this question is... Hard. To me, as an author. Because MGC doesn't have, like, fully set storyline, I'm stil not sure about paranormal things in it... I mean, ghosts and stuff definitely exist in this universe, but... Gaaah, that would require a shitload of explanation!

But... Uuuh... Does meeting a guy, whose soul and consciousness have been forcefully dragged out of the afterlife and implanted into a body of a lobotomized person, count as paranormal? ^^"

some original character (OC) questions

4. What are your character's quirks or eccentricities that make them stand out from others?

She's a technically immortal Russian cyborg born in 1971, who stopped ageing in her thirties, so. XD But more serious: she doesn't show much emotions, partially because of being kinda tired after all these years and partially, 'cause her she has an emotional maturity of a child – again, trauma will do that to you. And, due to being rather avoidant of people for most of her life, Svetlana still sometimes feels a bit out of place, when it comes to interpersonal relationships. But she's getting better!

Also, she's extremely sentimental and often pays homage to her family. She has a whole box of mementos after her mother and (adopted) grandma and has painted traditional Russian ornamental patterns on her battle armour to honour the latter – granny Anna lived from handcraft, she was making matryoshkas, and she taught young Svetlana how to paint them.

14. What is your character's preferred method of self-expression? Do they have any artistic talents or creative outlets?

Lol, I've accidentally already answered that above. XD But yeah, Svetlana is really skilled in painting traditional Russian patterns. ^^

Thank you! 💜

#it's Rem! #ask game #mail time!

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Is it just me or does some of the Jamil fanfics on this site make his signature spell a little too overpowered?

Like canonically there are limits to what his spell can do. And I assume it is very much like Jafar's limits.

Even though Jafar could easily manipulate the sultan, the guy was able to snap to his senses a few times on his own or with a trigger. (During book 4, Kalim does the same)

Iirc, when Jafar tries to order the sultan to forced Jasmine to marry him, I think he snapped out of it long enough to make a comment that Jafar is old. Or when he asks the sultan for the diamond ring. The sultan snaps out of it for a moment before Jafar insists that he needs it.

So my belief is that jamil's signature spell fails when he tries to force people to do actions that go against their beliefs (?)

Sorry for rambling, I'm very tired. Have a wonderful day/night

Jamil's power is... Not very well explained.

Like, "mind control" is a trope with such a wide range of possibilities. Like, how far does that control go? How much can be done with it? How long does it last? What are the conditions for it?

Jade technically also uses mind control when he activates Shock the Heart, but his mind control is very specific (makes people tell the truth) and has a very clear limit (it only works the first time ever). Moreover, if the power conflicts with the person's own principles (Kalim's extreme loyalty to Jamil), it won't work properly.

What I gathered from Jamil's power, is that it is like kinda hypnosis (which is what Jafar seems to be using in the movie). Only works with people with less guarded minds, or magically weaker (which is funny because Azul had to take Floyd's unique magic to make sure Jamil wouldn't be able to control him, implying that Jamil's magic is probably stronger than Azul's. I'd love to see Jamil try Snake Charmer on, like, Leona).

It also seems that Jamil can take it back whenever he feels like it? It is odd, because Kalim goes back to normal at the most random moments, and if we go with "breaks when it goes against someone's beliefs", it means Kalim was ok with practically locking people in the dorm and tormenting them for the sake of training. Also, didn't Kalim literally decide to let everyone leave, and then got charmed into taking that back? (Or am I remembering it wrong? Terrible memory, me)

And, again, Kalim was able to ward off Shock the Heart, so it's not like he couldn't do so.

It's also interesting to remember that no one knows Kalim like Jamil does, so if Kalim really wasn't against what was happening, Jamil would absolutely know and use it.

So, TL;DR, Jamil's powers are confusing and it seems nothing but more powerful magic (or cancelling/weakening magic like Floyd's) can break it. And it doesn't seem to have a clear limit other than, y'know, overblot due to magic overuse.

One thing I've seen in fics that I don't get is how people seem to still be conscious while being controlled? That makes no sense. Kalim literally says he's missing some chunks of his memory and his fellow students have to fill him in on what he does when he "has a mood swing". If Jamil mind controlled you, you would not know it. I know it kinda seems so because we see Jamil do it, but that's the game giving us the cue, instead of Yuu actually seeing it.

(a fun thing I noticed is that both Jade and Jamil's unique magic requires the target to look directly at their eyes. Ruggie, meanwhile, doesn't need to do so, probably because he can only control the body and not the mind)

#twisted wonderland #answering answering #jamil viper

[momtaku]

"eren isn't an average person" anon here.

i had to vent, because, after the ending, i've been seeing many weird takes about the point of snk being to show what war can do to an ordinary person, or that everyone would do the same in eren's shoes. when people aren't saying that eren was just a cornered good guy or giving excuses that there was no other way other than the rumbling.

even if i can understand where isayama was going with the ending, i feel he kinda fumbled? i really think the way he wrote it gave the fandom what they wanted the most: many ways to justify what eren did and water down/erase the bad image of eren that the rumbling left on them. i got impressed how showing eren in a slightly more sympathetic light in chapter 139 made many people yell "i knew it. i knew he wasn't the bad guy" at the top of their lungs, others even considering he was redeemed and calling him a hero, since his actions ended up saving his close friends (despite they got in real danger and almost died most part of the last arcs).

the chapter technically doesn't redeem him, but the way it was delivered made many people see eren as "just a boy" again, and that the "bad eren" was completely a facade, because they'd desperately trying to disassociate what they think the real eren is from the things he was doing post-timeskip at every opportunity. people couldn't handle that eren is everything together.

many stuff contributed with that: not showing the consequences of the rumbling properly (post-rumbling); the rumbling not affecting the 104; all the main characters alive crying eren's death and implied to visit his grave; "thanks for becoming a mass murder for our sake" - even if armin was only trying to comfort eren before his death; excessively cute eremin and eremika without a drop of real resentment scenes; ending the original 139 with mikasa thanking eren for wrapping the scarf around her (inviting the readers to remember the good things he did), and associating him symbol with a bird, a symbol of freedom; etc.

anyway, here i am venting again lmao

ps: i swear i'm not an anr enjoyer/er*hisu. i'm just an average ending hater who felt isayama got so close yet so far to deliver something memorable.

You're fine anon! Vent away. I hear what you are saying.

Where I differ is that I don't mind the idea of the ending. I think it does exactly what Isayama set out to do. Concept wise it's not a fumble. If you read the August 2017 BSM interview, that's pretty clear:

I don’t think the series passes judgment on what is “right” or “wrong.” For example, when I read Furuya Minoru’s “Himeanole,” I knew society would consider the serial killer in the story unforgivable under social norms. But when I took into account his life and background I still wondered, “If this was his nature, then who is to blame…?”

But considering the root of the issue, rather than evaluating “what is right” […] I think that’s what Shingeki no Kyojin’s ending will resemble.

Isayama was never interested in establishing right or the wrong. His goal was to write a sympathetic character who was twisted both by nurture and nature to do unthinkable repugnant things. Rather than dictate morality, Isayama's goal was to let reader determine how they felt about it. This is exactly what we've seen in the fandom with people on all sides when it comes to judgment on Eren.

But I do agree that the ending was harmed by the issues that have plagued the series as a whole - terrible pacing, inconsistent tone, and too much emphasis on the mystery instead of the resolution. This series is a case study for "interesting ideas clumsily executed". It all culminated in a speeding train wreck of an ending.

As I write those words, I want to say again, I like the concept of the ending. While the whole "Thanks for becoming a mass murderer" vibe makes my skin crawl, I don't mind the actual events that happened. If the story and the ending had been presented to me as a bulleted list, I'd think it was outstanding.

As far as the ending being embraced by the worst of humanity as a justification for their hatred and bigotry, I don't know what to say about that. On one hand I've often wished Isayama had done more to discourage that or had spoken out against it, but then I think about how it is often the goal of authors to pick at the scabs of social issues and leave them festering and open. This series might have been a gateway for some into fascism, but flip that around and it was also a gateway for exposing it. The series has made me more aware of the issues in my own country and has strengthened my resolve to fight back on things I might have otherwise ignored.

This is long. I hope it makes sense. Thanks again for sharing your viewpoint.

#chatting with friends #snk ending #it's been a 84 years and it seems I still have thoughts

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Vapors 2

Aiko didn't like to think about those early days of blearily drifting in and out of consciousness, realizing that the world was a blur of strange colors and smells and feelings that she couldn't properly interpret.

First of all, it was strange and frightening that she could remember it at all. She certainly shouldn't. At three years old, she was discerning enough to know that she was a complete freak and just savvy enough to keep her lips sealed shut instead of babbling even though some part of her realllly wanted to impress the grownups she knew. It would be satisfying to impress her caretakers and the other adults she saw, and maybe get special treatment. But in the long run? It felt like a terrible idea.

'For me and for Naruto. What would happen if I got taken away? No one cares about him.'

"Hey! Heyyyyyy," Naruto whined, tugging on her foot. He was sitting with his legs spread wide on the floor and staring beseechingly up at where she was perched on the bed. "What doing?"

She did her best not to grimace, both at the grammar and at the way that the toddler guilelessly rubbed his fist against his runny nose and then onto his shirt.

It wasn't his fault, really, that he was a comparatively normal child. When the fact that he was a jinchuuriki was taken into question, that fact took on an alarming pallor.

'I don't even like kids,' she thought resentfully, for the nth time. 'It's not fair.'

"I'm looking at pic-tures," Aiko said carefully to minimize the way her clumsy tongue stumbled over harder syllables. She turned the glossy children's book –an encyclopedia of sea creatures thinly guised as a story—in her hands to show her otouto. "Would you like to see?" She clumsily patted the cushion next to her, carefully avoiding looking at her stubby fingers. She already knew they looked like fat sausages without watching. Naruto made a face, but climbed up beside her, using another pillow as a step-stool and nearly slipping.

'I hate this pathetic body,' Aiko thought dully, turning the book back to the first page. 'It can't do anything right.'

Granted, she suspected that the flesh bag she was currently interred in was of vastly superior quality to her old one. The comparison was probably like a new Camaro and a fifteen year old Grand Am. They were both technically cars, and they looked fine at first scrutiny. But no matter how great her three-year-old flesh bag was for such a small sack of meat, it was still the body of a young child. It tired easily and needed rest often. Her fingers were fat and clumsy, and she had a hard time utilizing fine motor skills for things like coloring.

Her otouto wiggled beside her, making a strange high-pitched 'eeeeee' sound for no apparent reason. When that garnered no reaction but a tilted head, he huffed loudly and bounced, shaking the bed. "What's the story?" Naruto demanded bossily, prodding the book with an outstretched finger. When he grabbed for the pages, she pulled it away.

"There's not really a story," Aiko demurred, trying to keep the sigh out of her voice. There were picture books with words she could guess at, yes, but she wasn't going to touch those until it was well and age-appropriate for her to do so. She was bored out of her gourd, but it wasn't worth the risk.

At least not until she knew what was going on well enough to gauge the risks of gaining adult attention, anyway. She didn't know much about how ninjas trained or dealt with prodigy children, but she didn't think it was anything she would like to experience.

For the first few weeks or months, she'd thought that she was completely insane. To be fair, an infant had a horrendously poor grip on reality. She hadn't been able to see well, struggled to stay awake for very long, and she certainly hadn't understood anything that was being said. It had seemed like a waking dream when she had first made the connection between her current existence and a half-remembered television show that she had apparently never finished watching. Pity. She really couldn't have predicted that would become relevant to her survival and lifestyle.

Naruto was simultaneously the reason she questioned her sanity and the one consistent source of human interaction that was keeping her from going absolutely insane. She needed him.

Naruto made a rude sound that implied he wasn't going to accept the answer that there was no story. Fair enough.

She glanced around futilely, as if to be sure she was alone. The beautiful dark-eyed lady who volunteered at the orphanage and had them call her 'aunt' was nowhere to be seen. She had probably left for the day—Aiko was relatively sure that the woman had children of her own to tend to.

That didn't mean the twins were alone. She didn't see one often, but there was at least one ANBU who followed them around.

Well. She'd just have to speak slowly and try to keep her diction to something believable.

"This fish is named Marlin," Aiko said quietly, pointing out an illustrated koi. That wasn't the right type of fish at all, but it wasn't as if Naruto would know the difference. "He's scared of everything. Like this shark," Aiko pointed as she turned the next page. The blue-green color of the water in the books was like her eyes. The sky was like Naruto's. They looked nice together. "And he's scared of this walrus, too," she improvised. That wasn't in the right story, but there weren't any sea turtles in this book. She'd have to make do. There was in fact a barracuda, but she wasn't going to tell her little brother a grim story about a mother being murdered.

"Why?" Naruto breathed, staring, transfixed at the glossy images.

"Well, bigger fish are dangerous," she said practically. "And sharks eat fish." She couldn't hold back the grin at the disgusted face Naruto made and the way he buried his face in his hands and shook his head.

"Nuh-uh," he rejected. The words were a direct contrast to the fascinated glee on his face. His big blue eyes practically glittered.

She knew what was coming, but Aiko still waited to hear it with amused fondness.

"Tell me more."

"Our great village was founded…"

Her civilian teacher's voice was a comforting drone seeping in one ear and out the other. Aiko wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to a thing that the man said.

There was no need to, really. History wasn't going to help her much. Besides, the propaganda lightly dashed with facts that he was sharing would be repeated in other classes, she was sure. As they grew older they would probably get the party line reinforced, peppered with darker inclusions as they became age appropriate.

Or what counted for age appropriate in a shinobi village, in any case. Half of the picture books back at the orphanage included references to violence, indexes and identification games of weapons, and casual mention of death that was doubtless meant to serve as a reference for appropriate grieving behaviors. The other half were perfectly standard, trite works with cute animals and pretty children with two loving parents and an extended family who taught them various lessons.

(Aiko had no idea which sort was more harmful to Naruto. The sweet banal picture books of happy families filled him with a wistfulness that was painful to see, but watching as the darker texts normalized the shinobi lifestyle made her want to tear them all up).

"In the fiftieth year of the ninja, the great clans…"

Dull as dirt. No wonder that Naruto was nearly nodding off on his desk. That was probably a better use of time than listening, Aiko thought. It wasn't her plan for the day, however.

She was instead preoccupied with practicing her hiragana. Painstakingly, Aiko bit the tip of her tongue in concentration and tried not to let her hand wobble as she copied stilted and blotchy figures next to the perfect printed versions.

"Pay attention, class," came the light scolding from the head of the classroom. The boy beside Aiko jerked guiltily, but she didn't react.

The teacher didn't frighten her. What was he going to do? Really, the power that he used to maintain classroom control was all dependent on the fact that children hadn't yet realized just how little he could do to keep them in line. The psychological intimidation wasn't going to work on a girl who was 21-going-on-4, and the elderly civilian man who taught her homeroom class at school wasn't about to resort to physical intimidation.

The twins had only been attending civilian school for a few short months, but the routine was solid enough that Aiko was taken aback when a pretty Chuunin with a wide smile and a red bow in her hair came to pick them up and took them to Hokage tower.

Aiko pressed her lips together in a stern expression that she knew was uselessly cute on her pudgy, pink-cheeked face and strained her toes toward the floor. Her feet were dangling over the edge of the plastic waiting room chair that she was seated quietly on. By contrast, Naruto had climbed up on top of his and was talking at a mile a minute to an obviously disinterested secretary and a now overwhelmed Chuunin.

' I know that Naruto is supposed to be close to the Sandaime. I should have suspected that they would meet soon.'

She watched silently, remaining aloof from the conversation that followed when they were escorted into the Hokage's office. Naruto was outright thrilled, bouncing around with all the energy that a four-year old jinchuuriki could muster (and that was an impressive amount of energy, to be frank).

"And what do you think, Aiko-chan?" the old man attempted to bring her into the conversation.

Aiko blinked, taking a moment to steady herself. What did she think?

' I think that you're pathetic for taking advantage of a little boy's loneliness and culturally homogenous hero worship of you in order to coerce him into agreeing to a military career years before he's mentally and emotionally capable of making that decision.'

Nope, that probably wasn't the best idea.

' No, don't sign me up for shinobi training. I don't want to be a ninja. It seems scary. I'm not scared of dying at all because everyone does, but I don't see any reason to get involved in a violent caste system and kill people for a living.'

She was going to be a ninja whether she wanted to be or not. She was four years old; no one was going to let her make her own decisions, and it would be a waste not to at least attempt to put the fourth Hokage's kids through the shinobi Academy.

In the end, she just shrugged and regarded the old man with cool turquoise eyes.

He seemed fairly off-put by her lackluster reaction, but gracefully enough turned back to Naruto. The blonde was an eager conversationalist, if not a particularly creative or clever one.

Aiko wasn't surprised to find herself bundled off to the shinobi academy when a new term started a month later. She was a bit surprised to find out that the other first year students were six years old, but a moment's thought wrapped up that mystery. The term lengths meant that their classmates would graduate at the age of twelve, which fit with what she remembered. Theoretically she and Naruto should probably graduate at ten, then, except that it seemed likely that the Academy was actually being used as a babysitter in their case and not a device to crank out soldiers even earlier than usual.

Putting the twins in the Academy meant that she and Naruto were under a trained and trusted shinobi's attention for the bulk of the day. It probably freed up their ANBU stalker for more important work. Like shaving cats, or going home and licking their mirrors. Whatever. The point was that it had to be mind-numbingly dull to stare at toddlers all day.

Accordingly, Aiko didn't trust the kind-faced woman who was their first teacher at the Academy. She didn't understand the type of person who would agree to spend so much time around so many children that weren't hers: or at least, do so in order to teach them to kill. It was hard for Aiko to dismiss that as a strongly developed maternal instinct, assuming as she did that it would be damn hard to teach class after class of cannon fodder when the majority of them died a year after graduation. But Katade-sensei didn't seem to be the ice-old that Aiko thought was necessary to survive that type of heartbreak.

'There's something wrong with her. She would be doing field work if there wasn't.'

Even if Katade-sensei hadn't kept a wide berth from the twins, Aikowouldn't have had a thing to do with her.

At least Naruto was easy to figure out, although she admittedly had an advantage. He had simple desires, as did the other carpet sharks in the Academy class. He wanted to play (and couldn't understand why no one played with him after they had talked with their parents) and he wanted to eat too much sugar (until he threw up, at which point he would try again) and he most certainly did not want to do his homework because it was legitimately too hard for him and he cried when he failed all his assignments.

Aiko spent two years with the smiling woman who taught very small children, and didn't understand her any more at the end than she had when she was four. Katade-sensei was a blank wall, even if her voice was kind.

Maybe it was a shinobi thing? Or maybe… Aiko frowned, rubbing her fingers against her copper-toned hair, ignoring the fact that it was slightly grubby from the outdoor part of class where they had practiced falls and done agility work. Maybe it was just something that some people could turn on and off. A figurative mask that kept the outside world from peeking underneath to what really mattered.

Funny that it took her so long to figure out that she had anything in common with sensei. Aiko's secrets were probably much bigger. She stuck by that opinion, even when Katade-sensei became increasingly thin, grey, and harried. One day she simply never returned to class.

She eyed the nervous young man who had replaced Katade-sensei with tired resignation.

"Ohayo, class," he forced out with a pathetic imitation of confidence. The following smile looked more than a bit queasy. "I'll be your teacher from now on. My name is Umino Iruka. Any questions?"

He fielded several queries about his hair, where sensei was, and if he had a girlfriend, before Iruka-sensei called on Aiko. His expression was guarded and a bit uncomfortable. She thought she knew why—she was sitting right next to Naruto. Iruka-sensei probably didn't know what to think.

"Is Katade-sensei dead?"

Aiko knew her blunt guess was true by the way that Iruka gaped at her. She settled back in her chair and shook her head. "Never mind," she said mildly, without care for the way that Hyuuga Neji's eyes narrowed at her or that an Akimichi girl with rosy cheeks looked about to burst into tears.

She didn't pay much attention to the rest of proceedings—roll call, syllabus, and other dull minutia. Her curiosity was satisfied.

'She's not really real anyways.'

"Hey," Naruto hissed, leaning over the space between them. The girl in front swiveled to give them both a dirty look, obviously confused by her inability to understand what the boy was saying.

Aiko gave the girl a dry, steady look until she turned around. Then she blinked at her otouto and replied likewise, in English. "What's up?"

"Why did you ask that?" Naruto's brow furrowed. "and do you think Iruka-sensei will be nicer than the last lady?"

"De- You there!" Iruka-sensei barked, sounding firm and scary for the first time. It only took him a moment to stride on long legs to the back of the classroom where the Uzumaki twins were sitting. He had eyes only for Naruto—angry brown eyes, specifically, and tense hands that clapped down on Naruto's desk as the teenager loomed. "Why would you think it was acceptable to talk in my classroom?"

Naruto's big blue eyes wavered in shock and hurt as he sank back into his chair, fighting off tears. Aiko inhaled steadily through her nose, gritted her jaw together painfully, and stared at Iruka-sensei with feelings that were less than pleasant. If he'd been asked to describe her eyes at the moment, he might have said that she looked like she thought he was trash on her shoe. It didn't matter. He wasn't looking at her.

"I would say not," Aiko said steadily into the sudden hush as Iruka glowered, waiting for an answer from a small child. She hadn't pegged him for a bully. It was a shame.

She ignored the bout of confused expressions at the use of a foreign language and carefully got out her favorite pencil, turning to the middle of her notebook and going back to practicing kanji. She didn't feel any need to clarify or explain herself. English was her first language, after all, and she had made it Naruto's as well. It wasn't as if anyone else had been lining up to teach him language skills and she had needed someone to talk to.

A strange person was vying for that, actually. When the new term had rolled around with a new class of six-year-olds, a great deal of them had been very familiar. Chibi Sasuke was the oddest of all, because he was such a friendly little thing.

If she didn't know better, she would say that he'd been pressured by his parents to befriend them. Unfortunately for the possibility of Uchiha-Uzumaki friendship, the brunet had shown Naruto up in aerial weaponry skills and classroom knowledge from the first week. Naruto was too embarrassed, jealous and resentful to accept Sasuke's clumsy overtures, and Sasuke was too guileless to understand that he would have better results if he made sure not to make Naruto feel inadequate.

It took him a while to attempt approaching her. Perhaps it was some little-boy instinct to try other boys before girls. It could just as easily have been that Aiko wasn't particularly approachable.

"Uzumaki-san?"

Itty bitty Sasuke had a bit of a lisp, she noted. That was unfairly cute.

"Would you like to share my bento?" He held the box out awkwardly, over-large baby eyes fixed studiously on the point between her eyes, as if he'd been taught to make eye contact was wasn't comfortable with it yet. "My mom makes a lot, and I just…" Sasuke trailed off, and dug at the floor with a sandal despite his attempts to look grownup.

"Thank you for the offer. I have my own lunch, though."

She left him standing there mildly flustered and pink, as if he didn't have a set response for someone being that rude. Yeah, he was an adorable kid, but he was just that: a kid. Naruto was all the kid she needed in her life, thank you very much. She wasn't a babysitter and it sounded absolutely exhausting to dumb herself down to a child's level in personal interactions as well as those she already had to perform for adults.

Despite her resolution to stay away, her eyes drifted over to Sasuke while Naruto was still scrambling to find his left shoe so they could leave for the day. The brunet all but ran to a woman in a gorgeous kimono with long dark hair whipping gently in the wind. Aiko watched for longer than was probably polite, but she never saw the woman who was probably Sasuke's mother turn around enough to get a clear look at her face.

Pity. She seemed oddly familiar. Maybe it was her hair—it was unfairly beautiful.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

[gothamcityneedsme]

that job post has me thinking like. god im so relieved im at where i am right now. i had a feeling while working on my education degree and having a lot of field experience that i may not actually want to work in the field. i was cautious. i considered changing my major to journalism (or a few other things) but ultimately didn't because i didn't want to get trapped in college forever + was on a scholarship tied to my degree + was double majoring (which I knew would look good in the future). so i didn't change my major and kept working, got through my student teaching (which was. a fucking nightmare era of my life jesus christ. if i wasn't already hesitating on this, like, student teaching was a 100% certainty moment for me).

then once i was out i took a gap year to recollect my sanity after student teaching, and i also moved out (i was able to do both of these things thanks to my money from my military training. 25+ weeks of pay that i didn't spend added up to enough for me to do those things).

and THEN i started job hunting for the 'boring office job' concept that i had first considered swapping my plans to in college. i started retail part time while i kept up my other job hunting, landed a sort of crappy job but one that paid a little better and wasn't too terrible. got laid off from that one so started hunting again as soon as they announced the layoffs, got lucky with a company i had been planning to apply for a job at in a few years or so anyways (wanted more general experience under my belt, but layoffs prevented that). got the job right before covid, and while i technically work at another company now, that's still the job i have. 100% work from home now, doing the same stuff, and it's mostly writing emails/scheduling payments/reviewing ledgers/etc.

it pays well and doesn't follow me after work hours, the timing is flexible and i can write or do some gaming on the clock because i tend towards bursts of productivity where i do a lot in an hour then sort of chill for a bit before doing more. i stay on top of my responsibilities so i have a lot of wiggle room since i'm not behind on anything (i only get behind when we swap regions up and i get assigned states that prior analysts didn't properly keep clean, lol, but even then a few weeks of dedicated work gets that shit down easy).

idk man. i'm just rambling about my life, this is stuff i think about a lot, because by god i am thankful things went this direction. even if i do lose this job, i am pretty comfortable in this field now so i feel that i could search within this field to find work that would suit me. i'm getting paid more than i ever would as a teacher or anything else, i have so much flexibility, and i'm even closing on a house (today!).

i still have a lot of worries, i need to save up money again (house deposit) and pay back my parents (house deposit). and i still have huge student loans i'm working on paying that eat up a lot of my monthly income, but im so excited to be paying towards a mortgage instead of rent, and someday my loans will be paid off

#shitpost #i did enjoy teaching. i enjoyed student teaching! #but it was so fucking TERRIBLE lol wow #and i never would've made the money i'm making now #long post #idk that post just made me think about my life #god am i thankful #my loans are still shit because i had to get a lot of private loans #because my parents are... not well off enough to help me #but well off enough that i didn't quality for barely any federal aid #my fed loans are only 30k lol and im not even paying those because of my private loans #but i am paying and once i have enough saved i do intend to start shoving more money at them as i can #as of rn i have 9 years left on my 15 year loans so like #not..terrible? #and once i have savings again. i can start shoving more money at them to get that down #just. thoughts. #also i managed to pay my loans even while working retail so. shuffling money around is possible haha

[spooky-fm]

Phantom Thief

Ao3. Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Part 4. Neal Caffrey … glows??

There is a moment of silence in which Peter swears he can hear his own heartbeat.

Neal takes a deep breath, clearly audible through the crack between the door and its frame and answers in that tiny nervous voice that he used earlier.

"Just. It's, it's a lot. And weird. But I promise I'm fine, and I'm going to explain everything, ok?"

Peter frowns in worry and takes a couple of steps back to give the conman some space to come out on his own.

"That's right, Neal, we promised not to freak out or jump to conclusions. Considering the last thirty minutes, I am pretty sure the explanation is going to be even more insane than your usual escapades. But we promised to hear it, all of it, remember?"

Jones makes a sound of agreement, and Diana puts her hand on her hips — one of her nervous tells.

"Your turn to rip our band-aid off, Neal," she calls out. "Whatever happened to your pretty face, I'm sure we can deal with it."

"Still technically my band-aid," Neal laughs quietly, and slowly opens the door, and oh, he really wasn't kidding about weird.

It's Neal, cannot be anyone else with that familiar shape of the nose and the cut of the eyes, the same jaw and same body type. The stance and the set of shoulders, even the clothes are all still so very Neal, but the rest...

Neal's normally blue eyes have been replaced with almost neon green, his hair is bleached white, his ears are longer and a little pointy, and his skin is several shades darker than before, in addition to being tinted green and glowing.

Neal's wide eyes dart nervously between their faces, and Peter is pretty sure that all three of them look completely gobsmacked. He feels a bit dizzy and tries to remember if he took a breath recently, but the glowing freckles on Neal's cheeks (are those constellations?) distract him from that train of thought.

As the silence stretches uncomfortably long, Neal gets more agitated, panic rising in his eyes, face closing off, conman smile automatically sliding onto his face to reveal sharp teeth (fangs, Peter thinks), shoulders deliberately loose, as if he is ready to spring into motion. Ready to run, Peter realizes, and the thought jolts his brain back to reality. He takes several shaky breaths, tries not to squirm under Neal's sudden laser focus on him, and tries to come up with something to say that won't spook Neal. He would usually channel El in situations like this one, with varying degrees of success, but for some reason his inner El is absent, and he gets inner Neal instead, of all people.

"Neal," he manages hoarsely. Hook. Neal tenses up even more, and Peter clears his throat before continuing. "Are you alright?" Line. Neal looks a little confused by the question, and opens his mouth, probably to repeat his earlier reassurance, but Peter keeps going. "It's just, you are looking a bit green around the gills." And sinker.

Three gaping faces whip towards him, and, yes, maybe the situation is serious, and maybe the joke is terrible, but the sheer confusion on their faces is so incredibly funny that Peter cannot help the grin that stretches his lips. It seems like the right course of action anyway, when Neal laughs — a little hysterically, but that is honestly understandable — and the tension bleeds out of his frame.

The sound breaks whatever spell kept them frozen in place and the two agents next to him finally close their mouths and shake themselves, adjusting their expectations of reality. Diana mutters a quiet holy shit, and Jones snorts a little helplessly in agreement. Peter smiles properly at that, certain that they will get the chance to get that explanation from Neal and that he will have time to freak out about whatever it is that the main headache of his life (now of green-eyed variety) wants to shatter about his notions of reality.

The smile dims when Neal's slightly hysterical laughter keeps going for far too long to be normal, and slides off his face completely when the laughter transforms into big gulping sobs that wrack his whole frame. He must have been quite a bit more nervous about them finding out about whatever it is that they are looking at. Or maybe he wasn't as unaffected by the kidnapping as he tried to pretend.

Peter slowly approaches Neal, making sure to stay within his line of sight and, carefully broadcasting his movements, puts a hand on his shoulder, hopefully grounding the man in reality. Neal leans into the touch, instead of shying away from it, so Peter must be doing something right.

"S-sorry," Neal whispers between heaving breaths, swiping angrily at his eyes and cheeks. Peter notes with some detached amusement that his fingernails are long and sharp, evoking an image of claws, instead of the usual immaculate manicure.

"You don't need to apologize, Caffrey," Diana says behind him. "You did nothing wrong. It's okay to be upset or overwhelmed."

Peter vaguely recalls Diana telling him about a psychology class Christie is taking to diversify her skills.

"She's right, you know," Jones adds his two cents. "We are pretty beat ourselves, and we are not the ones who were kidnapped and forced to reveal whatever this whole thing is. I'm still not sure what happened, exactly, but it's pretty clear you are freaked out about it, so it must be a big deal to you. Just let it all out." 

Peter remembers how proud he is of his team. He also remembers that he is in charge and needs to lead by example, which in this case involves providing comfort. If only it wasn't his one true weakness. He thinks frantically about what to do and finally locates his inner El.

"Neal," he asks gently, careful not to slip into his 'victim voice'. "Can I give you a hug?" There. It's not asking if he needs it, not even if he wants the hug — Peter is pretty sure that's the closest path to rejection of any comfort. But by phrasing it like a request for Peter's, not for Neal's sake, he is most likely to get an affirmative answer. Plus, Neal is used to agreeing with Peter but would have no problem saying 'no' if he truly is uncomfortable with the idea. Although, considering the way he is leaning into the hand on his shoulder, physical touch is probably not unwelcome right now. 

Neal gives a small nod, and Peter slowly closes the short distance and gathers him into a firm hug, making sure to keep it tight, but not constricting. Neal practically melts into him, and Peter gives himself a metaphorical pat on the back. 

Then he gives a real one to Neal and keeps gently rubbing up and down his upper back, his other hand bracing Neal's head on his shoulder. His hair is soft, softer than it is when Neal is — when Neal is not green-eyed and glowing (holy shit, his CI glows. what the fuck). He feels cold to the touch, and Peter remembers his earlier comment about not being sure whether the room was colder than normal. God, that feels like a lifetime ago, even though it has barely been an hour. 

Neal stops crying when Peter gets to thinking about explaining the situation to El, and stops trembling some time around when Peter is starting to consider lunch and dinner options. The conman is still slumped bonelessly against him, but his breathing has gone back to the rate that doesn't sound worrying to Peter, and he feels solid and steady under his hands. Still not warm, but considering the lack of shivering, Peter is tentatively labeling that as normal until further information is provided. For all of Peter's paternal feelings towards the conman, Neal is an adult, who does know how to take care of himself. Has, in fact, been doing that for decades, mostly on his own. The thought makes something uncomfortable clench in his chest again, and he squeezes Neal a little tighter, making the other man huff into Peter's shoulder in tired amusement.

Diana, not one for the touchy-feely displays in public, clears her throat and reminds them that the grace window which the marshalls allow them is probably not going to last for too long, especially since the office tracked Neal's location for them. Neal stiffens a little at that and gently extricates himself from Peter, who lets him go, but keeps a steadying hand on the younger man's back when he notices how shaky his legs seem to be. Neal rubs his face and shoots him a smile that has equal measures of gratitude and embarrassment. It also contains 70% more fangs than Peter is used to. 

"So," the conman says quietly, "I guess I should explain, right?" He has a bit of a lisp, on account of the fangs (fangs) in his mouth, that catch awkwardly on his lips. 

Peter looks over his team. Neal is smiling wryly and fidgeting with his cufflinks. He no longer looks like he is about to run for the hills, but some of the nervous shadows still lurk behind his (green, what the fuck) eyes. Diana seems to have collected herself, smiling her usual confident smile. Her eyes sparkle with curiosity, but she looks steady. Jones's eyes are still a bit wild around the edges, uncertainty visible in his stance. He has his hands tucked firmly in his pockets, but that's probably because, unlike Diana, he likes to get his comfort from touch and would have happily joined the hug if he had permission or an invitation. 

They don't look like they are about to explode. No impending crisis. Aside from the marshals and the anklet situation. Damn.

Peter makes an executive decision.

"First of all, where is the man who took you?"

Neal suddenly looks shifty. 

"He isn't, isn't a threat anymore, I have him, uh, captured. Oh, that sounds worse than it is. Ancients, how do I, what do I even say. Okay, right. Um, Peter, I promise I'll explain everything, but he is not a problem right now. Um. He is also too dangerous to be arrested by hu-, by the police. Please trust me on this." 

Neal is asking to trust him on many things already, so what's one more. Even if it's completely incomprehensible and possibly illegal. Peter makes another executive decision.

"Is there anything that we need to know right this second?" he asks Neal. 

The conman frowns thoughtfully and shakes his head slowly. 

"I don't think so," he mutters. "We should maybe collect the Fruitloop's things, it's really not a good idea to have them fall into the wrong hands. I can grab his stuff, while you uh..." he trails off.

Fruitloop. Sure, why not. Is that his nickname for Masters or is it someone else with an equally insane story attached. At any rate, it's a problem for future-Peter.

"While I call the marshals and inform them that I will be taking you to my place to recover from a kidnapping from one of your old enemies. I will then call Hughes and repeat the plan, explaining that I will be sending Jones and Berrigan to gather intel about the kidnapper, who seems to have taken off in an unknown direction."

Neal's mouth falls open a bit, and he swallows heavily before nodding sharply. "Technically," he smiles a little, a bit of his usual mirth returning to his eyes, "not a single word of that is a lie."

Peter returns the smile. He is fine with twisting the truth a little to protect Neal, but it's nice to know that he doesn't have to outright lie to his boss. He gives Neal's shoulder one last pat and takes out his phone to call Hughes. The marshals will be next. While the call connects he watches Neal carefully, ready to step in if he stumbles or gets shocked by the weird space tech energy. 

It seems that Jones has a similar plan, as he sticks close to Neal's side and watches him intently. He also produces a water bottle from somewhere and makes sure that the conman drinks at least half of it in small sips. Diana glances at them, looks around the hallway, pokes her head into the room that held Neal, and disappears down the corridor. She returns with a metal shopping cart that was apparently just there for some unknown reason, and Neal practically beams when he sees it. His freckles glow brighter when he smiles. What the hell. 

While Peter does some fast-talking with Hughes, Neal himself dismantles the futuristic (maybe actually possibly alien) tech with surprising efficiency. Soon, everything that distinguished this part of the building from the rest is packed neatly into the cart, and the three of them go on a hunt through the rest of the floor to make sure nothing remains behind. 

Peter has often wondered in the past what he would do in one of those hypothetical situations that can never actually happen. Like finding out magic is real or meeting an alien on Earth. When he arranges for a junior agent to drop off the replacement tracker at his house and assures Hughes that they do not need more people on the case of Neal's kidnapping, Peter discovers that the answer in the latter case is 'hide the possible alien from the government with the help of two other FBI agents'. He wonders for a moment if that means he just committed treason, and promptly stops caring about that question when he comes over to the rest of his team, where Diana is struggling with the busted front wheel on the cart full of possibly-alien tech, and Jones is carefully arranging his scarf over Neal's head to cover the most visibly strange features. 

AN: Peter just wants to get through the day. Unfortunately, the universe confronts him with moral dilemmas and ethical questions left and right. What would you do if your friend-slash-prisoner and sometimes pseudo-son turned out to (maybe) be an alien?

#dp x wc #danny phantom x white collar #spooky stories #unnamed dpxwc reveal fic #hey that's it that's the reveal! #it's here #revealed #well #partially #we still have not even mentioned the ghost thing #good luck waiting for it :D #phantom thief

[seyaryminamoto]

Leap of Faith: Sokkla Saturdays 2022

Day 2: Each other's firsts

On FF.net//On AO3

Here goes day 2! This time, a standalone new story, and a Modern AU at that. Hope you enjoy!

We need to talk.

Never had he read a more ominous text message.

Sokka winced, covering his face with a hand. Was this really it? Were they, whatever they were, really over, after all this time? He supposed it was guaranteed to happen, in a way… though, with Azula being as she was, he actually expected her to show up one day with a tall, bulky, perfect rich boyfriend, with no recollection of ever having been Sokka's girlfriend… because she wasn't. Technically, she wasn't. He had never asked… neither had she. So, technically… they weren't really together. They never had been.

It was very strange that those thoughts would be comforting in the face of a message that sent cold daggers through his stomach, making him dread that he'd lose her, after all this time.

Still, what was he going to do, beg her to change her mind? To give him a chance? Maybe she had done this simply because he was an indecisive moron, and if that was the case, he certainly had it coming. But somehow, those golden eyes, beautiful as they were, made him feel so self-aware since the very first day they had found his own…

He was scared of rejection. Scared of losing her. Scared of a life without her.

Thus… she was the one who called the shots. She was the one who would determine the actual basis of their relationship, if there was even one to begin with. People constantly assumed they were dating… but he knew the truth, as did Azula: theirs was a casual, no-strings-attached sort of relationship and it always had been. So, whatever she wanted to talk about, he'd have to face it while being as level-headed as he possibly could hope to be.

He answered directly, curtly, without even a smidge of humor. Whatever she wanted, he wasn't sure he cared to lighten the situation somehow. If nothing else, the likely end of their romantic potential was better off mourned properly. She responded quickly, letting him know where they'd meet, and he sighed as he resolved to go to her once his afternoon classes were over.

He marched towards the university campus's basketball courts with his bag slung over one of his heavy shoulders, about half an hour after the sun had set. The local teams didn't train today, so it was the ideal moment to take advantage of the court and play for a few hours, practicing his shots in hopes of perfecting a tricky angle for a three-pointer… he actually expected Azula would be doing exactly that when he arrived, but he found her sitting on a bench right by the court instead. He bit his lip, approaching slowly, unable to help the instinctive fluttering of his stomach at the sight of her, as beautiful as she ever was.

"Hey," he said, simply. She hummed in response, arms folded, legs crossed. "Hope you weren't waiting long."

"Not that long," she said, simply. Sokka breathed deeply.

"Want something to drink?" he asked.

"You're buying?" she responded, immediately. He huffed.

"If you ask nicely…" he said, unable to hold back a smidge of teasing: she finally looked at him, her eyes so skeptical he couldn't possibly defend against their glare. "Okay, fine, gee. Can't even ask nicely indeed, can she? No, no, no…"

"Want me to beg on my hands and knees while we're at it?" she asked. Sokka couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Oh, you think it would be funny?"

"Funny because I don't think that's possible for you. You're too proud to do something like that," Sokka smiled. "Me? Oh, I'd be on my hands and knees for you any day, but that's because I'm a pushover and you're anything but."

"Right," Azula said, raising an eyebrow as Sokka set down his bag on the corner of the bench.

"Well, then, wait here while I get you a… coffee? Tea? Iced tea? Soda? Whatever you…"

"Whatever you'll have will do," Azula said, simply. Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"Not in the mood for anything specific, then?"

"Not particularly," Azula said.

She sounded nervous… anxious. As though she wanted to get this over with… and as though she wanted to delay it, too. If she really wanted to rush through it, she wouldn't have allowed him to treat her to a drink at all… he eyed her warily before marching up to the closest vending machine, tapping her favorite soda twice before casting a quick glance in her direction: her foot swayed back and forth in a rhythm, she seemed focused… she hadn't brought a basketball with her today even though they were at the court. She liked playing with him whenever they had some time off, this was a frequent meeting spot for them, especially on days when no one else was making use of the sporting facilities…

Sokka gritted his teeth as he focused on his task again. Well, so much for delaying the inevitable. Whatever she wanted, she'd get… he'd see to that. He'd always hoped to do right by her… and if this was what she wanted, he had no right to argue against it.

He returned, handing the cold canned drink wordlessly to Azula. She nodded in his direction as he took his seat beside her. They opened their drinks, they sipped them…

And in all that time, Azula didn't say a word.

"What did you want to talk about?" Sokka asked after he finished over half his drink, unable to mask his misery upon saying those words. Azula grimaced, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes. "I mean, you did ask me here to talk, so… what's up? Want to talk about the weather? Did your basketball get busted and you want to ask me to lend you mine, or…?"

"I… no," Azula huffed, rolling her eyes as Sokka eyed her with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, you're doing an awful lot of not-talking for someone who wanted to talk," Sokka concluded, and Azula growled softly under her breath. "I'm just saying…"

"You're annoying," Azula retorted, simply. He sighed: there was never any telling what was going through her mind. Was she upset? Was she irritable? Was she actually enjoying this conversation somehow? It was ridiculous that the last thing could be a possibility, and yet that was how difficult it was to read Azula most times.

"Well, what else is new. Been hearing that one from you since we were toddlers," Sokka said, breathing out slowly and relaxing on the bench. She'd talk when she wanted to talk, then. He had nothing to do but wait.

"Why are you…?" Azula said, gritting her teeth and eyeing him with uncertainty. "You're taking everything way too seriously for your standards today."

"Am I not supposed to?" Sokka asked, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. "Want me to make a joke about our, uh, impending break-up? Because I don't really think I…"

"Our what? Did you just…? Break-up?"

Sokka's stomach dropped, and then his heart seemed to flutter. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her in foolish hope…

"You… said you wanted to talk?" he said. "I mean… maybe that's not what you meant, but that's what everyone says when they want to break up, as far as I know, so…!"

"If I wanted to break up, I would've just said we're breaking up, I wouldn't have gone about it so roundaboutly…"

"Wait, what?! Through text messages?"

"Why not?"

"But that's…! That's mean," Sokka pouted. Azula shot him a skeptical glare again.

"What else is new? Been hearing that one from you since we were toddlers, too," she ridiculed him, but somehow, Sokka's chest hadn't lost whatever wild hope had taken hold of it, because…

Because she didn't want them to break up. She hadn't called him for that reason. She would have said she wanted to break up, bluntly, if that was what she had been going for… so it wasn't. It wasn't! They weren't over, so that meant…!

"Besides, how can we break up if we're not really…? I mean, we're not actually…" Azula said, with a skeptical smile.

"Oh. That's why it's not a break-up?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula huffed. "You know what? Just clarify this to me: whatever it is we are, it's not over, is it?"

"It's… not," Azula said, glancing at him furtively: Sokka disregarded the trepidation in her eyes as he let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Well, then… heh. I guess I freaked out for no reason," he smiled a little. "Want me to joke around now? Now that I don't think you're dumping me, I can definitely do it much more easily…"

"There's nothing to dump anyway, so… don't be ridiculous," Azula said, shaking her head. Sokka grinned at her.

"Alright, alright. What do you want to talk about, then?" he asked. Azula gritted her teeth, running a hand over her hair as she leaned forward. "Um… did someone die?"

"Of course not."

"Okay. You're not going to transfer to another university?" Sokka asked. Azula let out a soft huff of amusement as he shrugged. "Look, I'm just trying to get through all the possibilities that go through my head right now. Need me to stop guessing?"

"You probably should stop. You're not even close to the right track," Azula said, rolling her eyes as she leaned back again.

"Fine, then. I'll wait for you to say it," Sokka said, with a shrug.

That, he knew, was a dangerous choice to make: it was no secret that Azula's greatest flaws were her stubbornness and pride. Most other problems she faced seemed to stem from those sources, and their conjunction usually resulted in one very particular issue…

Said issue seemed ready to rear its head right then and there as the young woman opened her mouth and closed it again. As she shifted in her seat, breathed deeply, chest heaving as though she had finished running a marathon… and then she settled down again with what could only appear to be a disappointed sigh.

It was no secret for Sokka that she struggled with communicating anything other than solid, logical, blunt facts. She was certainly talented at mocking others, at ridiculing whoever earned her scorn, at unleashing sarcasm at the drop of a hat… but not so much when it came to conveying anything she deemed irrational. Sokka breathed deeply, suspecting immediately that whatever ailed her would be related to feelings… to sentimentality she typically scoffed at whenever she saw it in anyone else. She never failed to ridicule her brother for all his relationship drama, never failed to laugh during so-called emotional moments in romance movies, never failed to roll her eyes at people calling her insensitive for not being moved by a deeply touching scene in a book, a TV show or a heartwarming song…

Sokka had always suspected she wasn't truly immune to what she'd deem sentimentality, but perhaps due to having spent all her life mocking it, she was utterly appalled by becoming just like everyone she had laughed at since childhood…

And that meant she wouldn't talk about any such subjects easily. Hence her numerous attempts to speak, only for her to shut down quickly right afterwards. Zuko had occasionally called Sokka an 'Azula whisperer', as he somehow seemed to read through her when no one else could comprehend her thought process… Sokka, frankly, didn't think he did it all that well, but he certainly did better at it than Zuko, which Sokka thought wasn't saying much. Still, at a lack of a proper answer or a way to read through Azula now, he had to think of another solution, a way to break the deadlock in which she had trapped herself, with no apparent way out.

"Okay…" he said, and she groaned – her reaction came off to him as acute fear of failure now, of having disappointed him, yet again stemming from the pride that seemed to rule her every choice. "I have an idea."

"An idea?" Azula repeated.

"You didn't bring a ball, from what I saw, but I did. Kind of figured I'd challenge you to a game if you really wanted us to break up, see if I could beat you, and if I could… then I'd cajole you into not breaking up with me!" Sokka declared, with a proud grin. Azula's skepticism returned with full strength, and her previous discomfort appeared to dwindle for it.

"If that had been my intent, I wouldn't have agreed to those terms," Azula said, bluntly. Sokka grimaced but sighed.

"I suppose not, but hey, you said that's not what you were after, so… we can play anyway," he said, smiling again. Azula raised an eyebrow. "You're really good with three-pointers, aren't you? How about this: do a couple of throws, I'll stand back-to-back with you, as if I were keeping the opposite team off you… that way you don't have to look at me, and when you throw the ball, you'll gather the impulse to both get a three-pointer and tell me what you wanted to say. How about it?"

"That…" Azula blinked blankly. "That might not work."

"Maybe. But it's bound to be better to have something else to do rather than just fretting about what you want to say," Sokka smiled, leaning down to rummage in his bag and withdraw his personal basketball. "How about it?"

He wasn't surprised when she agreed with a nod– he knew her quirks and her preferences back and forth, and he had known all too well that being in the court, throwing hoops, would be likely to improve her mood when she was troubled. It was the way it had been since their childhood, and that reality hadn't changed much now that they were young adults.

So, once she finished her drink, Sokka handed the ball to Azula and they stepped into the empty court – the campus's night lights allowed them to play for as long as they pleased, even if night had already fallen. Azula stood at the familiar three-points line, dribbling as naturally as ever, while Sokka took a defensive stance behind her, arms outstretched as if he had actual rivals to fend off.

"Alright! I'm keeping them busy!" Sokka declared. Azula snorted, smiling at him from over her shoulder.

"Good for you. Such a good defense against our very intimidating, invisible opponents…" she said. Sokka snickered.

"See how reliable I am? I bet this is why they won't let men and women play on the same official teams, you know? If they did, heh, you and I would have taken every league by storm by now."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Azula smirked, shaking her head.

She dribbled again, then took up the proper stance to throw the ball. A familiar, practiced stance – all her motions had been rehearsed until they had become second nature to her over time. She raised the ball, set on exerting the right strength, the accuracy, every bit of precision and focus…

The ball slid cleanly through the net, and she smirked proudly. Behind her, however, Sokka raised an eyebrow as she walked to pick up the ball that continued to rebound on the court's floor.

"You forgot something."

"I didn't…" Azula started to rebuff him… and then she remembered why she had been throwing a three-pointer in the first place.

She covered her mouth with a hand, shooting Sokka a worried glance before rushing to pick up the ball indeed. She returned to her spot shortly afterwards, and Sokka smiled a little as he up took his defensive stance once more.

"Remember this time…"

"I remember. Don't… don't talk to me," Azula huffed. Sokka had to stifle a chuckle at her bashful tone.

He didn't answer this time. He simply moved from side to side, hearing her breathing, her every single motion as she flexed her knees, as she prepared herself to throw the ball…

It rebounded against the ring, and not a single word left her lips.

Sokka blinked blankly, glancing at her over his shoulder as yet again, she stepped forward to pick up the ball. This time, however, she was blushing crimson.

"It's okay if it didn't get in…" Sokka said, and Azula shook her head.

"Didn't get in just because I was trying to focus on saying the damn thing and I… lost focus on the throw," she said. "Won't happen again."

"You know, you told me I should stop talking, but maybe if I did you'd feel more comfortable," Sokka said, smirking a little. "I could do some sportsy narrations, you know? Of the sort you hate…"

"Don't you dare," Azula hissed. Sokka snickered deviously as she took her position again.

"Well, I won't as long as you say what you need to say in the next throw. How about it?"

"Doesn't suit you to manipulate me and you know it," Azula retorted, dribbling and hoisting the ball again into a throwing position.

She breathed deeply behind him, and Sokka glanced over his shoulder, certain that she'd do it now. Perhaps he'd move around a bit, to genuinely simulate the hecticness of a game… but whatever happened next, she'd certainly share what she had been keeping to herself so far. The threat of hearing Sokka imitate the sports casters Azula couldn't stand – she would click the mute option at once whenever they watched any games– would surely suffice to convince her, she wouldn't hesitate…

He started moving from side to side, waving his arms the way he would have if there had been another team trying to get through his defense and to attack Azula. Behind him, Azula took a deep breath, heart in her throat as she focused both on the ball and her words, the words she needed to convey to him…

She jumped, arms outstretched, and tossed the ball powerfully just as she finally exclaimed what she had called Sokka here for:

"I want to have sex with you!"

The ball rebounded against the board, the inner edge of the ring, and slipped through the net successfully.

Sokka's pretense of a defense crumbled as though he were playing against a very superior enemy, even if there was no one there.

He nearly fell over forward, losing his balance, blinking himself awake from what had to be a ridiculous dream… because she hadn't actually said that, had she? The reason why she had called him here, the thing she wanted to talk about… was this?

He glanced at her in shock over his shoulder to find her frozen on the spot, head bowed in an unequivocal sign of embarrassment. She shrank slowly into herself, though… crouching and hugging her knees to her chest.

"Azula…?"

"Don't…! Fuck, I don't even know why I…! Don't say anything. Just… don't."

Sokka breathed out, watching her helplessly for a moment. His immediate instinct was to try and help her reason her way out of whatever feelings she was experiencing… but perhaps he should give her a moment first. He needed one himself, anyway…

He walked absentmindedly to collect the ball, his heart racing: had she truly called him here to say that? It was hard to fathom, it certainly was the last thing that had crossed his mind… and not because the concept hadn't crossed his mind. Oh, it certainly crossed it often, perhaps often enough that Azula would be disgusted by him for it… but he had never imagined the day would come when she would outright ask for this from him. He wasn't going to bring it up, no, let alone would he have pressured her into it… everything about their relationship had always been shaky, and Sokka had never failed to hesitate at every turn out of fear that she might lose interest in him eventually. The notion that they might reach this point eventually certainly hadn't been ruled out at any point in time… but she had never indicated interest in moving matters along in that direction. Sokka always imagined they'd have to be an established couple before so much as thinking about it… and yet today she had both confirmed that they weren't one, and said she wanted to sleep with him.

She was, without a doubt, the most confusing person he had ever met.

He returned to her, sitting before her this time. She hadn't changed positions at all, and even seemed to tense up further because he sat before her. His hand rose, falling gently upon her head, stroking her hair slowly. She didn't react in any way to his gesture, but he feared she would lash out at him sooner than later… once the stubborn pride kicked in fully, he suspected.

"Azula," he called her, softly. She shuddered, shaking her head impulsively. "It's okay. I heard you. I just… have a few questions."

"Well, I… don't have answers. So… save it," she said, breathing deeply. "Forget what I said, it's not important, it's…"

"It's very important to me," Sokka said: there wasn't even a smidge of humor in his voice, and she tensed up once she noticed as much. "I… I'm not taking this lightly, okay? And neither are you, I can tell. So… how about you tell me what, exactly, brought this about?"

"I… I don't think I can. I don't know, it's just… it's stupid. My head's just full of stupid nonsense, just… it doesn't matter. We don't… we can just go back to our dorms, forget about it, I…"

"I want to play a game."

His statement, so random and confusing, startled her out of her dismissing, self-deprecating reverie. Azula raised her head, eyeing him in perplexity: that he had spoken the words so seriously, with a light frown, rendered her speechless.

"It's an old game… we played it a few times, didn't we?" Sokka said, breathing deeply. "Just… not this way, we didn't. But we can do it now. How about it?"

"What game are you talking about?" Azula asked, frowning warily.

"Truth or dare?"

Azula's jaw dropped. Sokka offered her a weak smile as he raised the ball in her direction.

"This way, you get to boss me around, make me do stupid shit if you want to, while you answer my questions. How about it?"

"I… don't follow. How would we go about it?" Azula asked, eyeing the ball with confusion. "I… you know I pick dare every time, there's no point to playing this game if you want to understand what's going on with me. I mean, I don't understand it either, so…"

"We'll play it this way: if you score… it means dare," Sokka said. Azula frowned. "If you miss, it means truth. In my case, it'll be the other way around. Whenever I score, you get to ask me a question, and if I don't, you can tell me to eat my own shoelaces or whatever you want to…"

"I wouldn't tell you to do that," Azula said, grimacing.

"Right, because then if I dare you to kiss me, it'd be very unhygienic?"

"Exactly."

Sokka smiled before pushing himself up to his feet. His outstretched hand only remained empty for a moment, for Azula rose to her feet as well with his help moments later.

"Want me to start?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged. "You can sabotage me too, you know? Try to block me, steal the ball, make me miss my shot somehow…"

"Sounds like you want a dare after all," Azula said, with a weak grin. Sokka's smile strengthened.

"I don't, but that does mean I get to mess with you when your turn arrives. My shot first, yours next, and we'll keep on taking turns until we get everything off our chests, alright?" he said, rolling the ball around his waist and raising his eyebrows. "Ready yet?"

"Of course," Azula said: her hand darted off to try to steal the basketball, but Sokka defended expertly, dribbling it away from her.

She forced him to pivot on one foot, twirling in a way that forced him further away from the ring: even so, his superior height saw to it that he could still feint to the right and successfully aim a shot, slightly closer to the free-throw line than to the three-pointer one.

The ball bounced on the ring, but it still slid cleanly into the net moments afterwards. Sokka snickered and hooted in proud triumph as Azula huffed, hands on her hips.

"Well, then, what shall it be, my lady?" Sokka asked, bowing pompously towards her. Azula raised an eyebrow at his foolish display.

"I'm tempted to say 'never call me that again', but unfortunately, this isn't a dare," she decided. "Truth, then?"

"Truth, indeed."

"Do you… think what I said is stupid?" she asked, frowning slightly. Sokka huffed.

"Stupid? Like hell it is. It's… it's a big deal. A really big decision and I… I was caught by surprise," Sokka said, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry if I didn't react the way you wanted me to, but…"

"I don't know how I wanted you to react, so don't worry about that," Azula admitted. Sokka picked up the ball, passing it at her by flinging it with a single hand – she caught it smoothly, dribbling slowly.

"I'm curious, if you want to know, and confused… and I'm definitely intrigued by the idea, but I'm way more worried about you than eager to do as you asked, alright?" Sokka said. Azula's eyes widened. "I know you're not exactly in the habit of communicating touchy-feely things with people, you've always hated that… but I really want to know if something bad happened, and if you're doing this for the wrong reasons."

"What are the wrong reasons?" Azula asked, with a weak smile.

"I don't know… being terminally ill and thinking this is your only chance?" Sokka asked, grimacing. "Being pressured into it by annoying people who took to commenting on your personal life and made you feel lesser because you hadn't fucked anyone yet? I don't know…"

"Heh," Azula smiled slightly still, and Sokka grimaced.

"Is it something like that?"

"Not particularly," Azula said, breathing deeply. "But it was your turn to answer, not mine, so…"

"Ugh. Fine," Sokka huffed, marching up to her threateningly.

Azula was ready for him, goading him with a slow dribble that picked up speed only as a taunt: she feinted to the left, then twirled quickly to the right, dashing into the key. Sokka followed, but her head-start ensured that she could speed up faster and deliver a layup that landed perfectly, bounding on the board's square in the right angle to slip through the net. Her relieved smile at the successful score made Sokka shake his head in disbelief.

"Dare, then?" he said. Azula nodded promptly. "Kiss me."

"How predictable," Azula smirked. Sokka shrugged.

"French kiss!" he added: her reaction was a burst of laughter that saw him pouting slightly. "Come on, do you want me to keep making it worse? Because I could! I totally could!"

"You do remember that we've done that a million times already?" Azula shook her head, marching up to Sokka with a slight grin. "You're a dork."

Sokka only had a small window of time to smile before Azula's hands caught his cheeks, pulling him in for a passionate kiss: she didn't waste any time with fulfilling his amendment, too, letting her tongue glide past his lips, taunting and prodding his own. Sokka's arms looped around her waist, and Azula indulged in that moment for much longer than needed – it was just a dare, wasn't it? She could have cut it short quickly after the first contact between their tongues, and yet…

Was she trying to delay matters? To avoid having to fulfill more dares and truths based on their game? Or was she, even, trying to prepare them both for the fulfillment of her earlier request? Sokka stiffened at the thought, and yet Azula kept going – her body leaned into him as she took full command and dominance between them. Sokka's hands rose to her shoulders, wondering if that alone would suffice for her to grow self-aware again… but the truth was that Azula's problems weren't to be found in physical affection. Somehow, they had settled into exchanging kisses of varying depth early enough in their relationship – even touching each other to a certain degree of intimacy had been perfectly feasible, and they had cuddled comfortably countless times, too…

The one real problem between them was verbal communication: on her end, out of her strange stubbornness and pride. On his end, out of fear that she might reject him if he said or did anything she didn't care for. They were perfectly well matched physically, and the kiss that rendered them breathless proved as much.

"Holy shit…" Sokka blurted out once they breathed heavily together. Azula chuckled, her brow against his.

"I've practiced this enough with you that I could go the extra mile with that dare just because. So… you know, make it a challenging one next time," she suggested.

"Uh… yeah, I don't think so. Just score again, I want to do that again…"

Azula laughed, complying even if it was against the terms of their deal and game. It was one way to go about heating up matters between them until they were ready to reach the next level, Sokka supposed… but that wasn't something he would do until he was fully certain that Azula wanted this for the right reasons.

As ever, the kiss ended on her terms – the reason being that tilting her head up caused her contracted neck to hurt, of course, so as ever, reason trampled over emotion entirely. Sokka didn't protest, cheeks healthily flushed as Azula picked up the ball and flung it in his direction.

"Snap out of it or you're going to fail this one," Azula warned him. Sokka giggled carelessly. "Or is it you want to fail, Sokka?"

"Honestly, Azula? I don't really care much about whether I get truth or dare," he said, with a shrug. "Though if I do fail, I hope your dare is…"

"It won't be another kiss. My ideas are much more nefarious than that," Azula declared, sternly. Sokka chuckled.

"I can't wait to find out what they'll be, then," he said, dribbling and walking back as Azula stepped forward, intent on defending properly this time.

He made to throw the ball, though he failed to trick her with another feint: Azula's hand struck the ball powerfully, almost causing him to lose it, so he simply fit his hands around it properly anew before throwing quickly, taking advantage of his superior height to do so…

The ball bounded against the board and, with a simple bounce on the ring, fell back to the ground, beyond the net.

"Heh, how careless and sloppy," Azula smirked. Sokka huffed, hands on his hips. "Now, what to do with you…?"

"Well, now, when you say it that way I actually get kind of excited, Azula," he teased. She scoffed in his direction and rolling her eyes.

"If that's so… then I have the perfect one for you: try to lick… your elbow."

"W-wait, what? Hey! No one can do that!"

"Hence why I said 'try'," Azula smirked.

Sokka pouted, but he raised his arm regardless and stuck his tongue out: it was a foolish sort of dare for sure, and if he had a chance to give Azula a reason to laugh, he'd do so… but he certainly had hoped she was going elsewhere with this dare when she paused at the word 'lick'.

After about two minutes of laughing at Sokka's failures to reach his elbow with the tip of his tongue, regardless of his best effort to do so, Azula finally cut him some slack and considered the dare had been fulfilled. Sokka glared at her sternly as she picked up the ball, and his defense was much more serious this time: without a referee to properly judge them for their choices, Sokka dared even wrap his arms around Azula when she tried to slip past him, a technique he resorted to on occasion to throw off her rhythm and amuse her, too. Even so, she turned around, forcing him to twirl with her as she attempted to throw the ball properly, regardless of his attempts to destabilize her balance…

The ball bounced away from the ring, and Azula's enthusiasm faded at once.

"Uh… oops," Sokka grimaced, releasing her from his grip and standing upright. "We can do it again, I'll be good now…"

"You don't know how to behave yourself, so… don't bother," Azula said, swallowing hard. "It was the point, though, wasn't it? To… to make me talk so, well, just… do it. Why not, right? Just… just ask."

Her devious calm had been replaced by nervous anxiety again. Sokka breathed out slowly, tightening his arms around her waist. Azula shivered, but she didn't shove him off her.

"Do you want me to dare you to do something more dangerous than a kiss next time?"

Azula's eyes widened. She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

"Sokka… I'm not a good sport when there's no referee, same as you," she said. "This is your one and only warning: either you ask what you really want to ask, or I'll take your very first question as what you want to know, even if it's a mistake on your part, so…"

"It's not a mistake. It's what I want to ask right now," Sokka said, with a gentle smile. Azula's cheeks flushed slightly. "Well? Should I go for something a little wilder than what we've done so far?"

"I… don't know. Only if you want to," Azula said, blinking blankly. "I mean, obviously there's limits, but… I expect your common sense will see to you understanding that."

"You trust me a lot if that's the case," Sokka chuckled, burying his face in her shoulder. Azula swallowed hard. "But alright… I'll try to think of a wilder dare than a French kiss or an elbow lick."

"That one was mine and it was much more amusing, mind you," Azula said, smirking. Sokka chuckled, pressing his lips quickly to her cheek before pulling away.

"You're too clever," he said, marching up to take the ball, as it was his turn next.

He thought Azula had mumbled something as he walked away, but he didn't catch it properly. He raised an eyebrow before leaning to pick up the ball, and she rushed in to defend the hoop as soon as it was in his hands.

His next shot slid smoothly through the net, thus, Azula had a chance to have a question answered. Sokka waited patiently, unsure of what she might go for, especially as her cheeks were slightly redder over whatever she was thinking of. He raised an eyebrow as Azula finally settled on a question, letting out a deep sigh before blurting it out.

"Had you ever thought about it… before I asked?" she said, without going into specifics. She didn't need to. Sokka huffed.

"I don't know if you want to know."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"It's a 'way more often than you'll be comfortable with', rather."

The fact that she actually smiled took him by surprise: had she thought about it more often than he had expected her to, too? His own blood rushed upwards as he, yet again, found himself utterly mystified by the countless puzzles Azula ever presented for him.

"You'll have to be more specific," Azula said, and her smile gained a devious edge. Sokka chuckled, hands on his hips.

"You're something else," he said, smiling fondly at her. "Well, then… when we watch any romantic movies you find stupid, I think about it if there's a sex scene. I can't help but be an idiot who imagines us in their place, so…"

"That's very stupid for sure," Azula smiled. Sokka chuckled.

"Happens at random when I look at you, too," he said. Azula raised an eyebrow. "Want me to elaborate? It's hard to, honestly… see, I can be talking with you about something as common as whatever shitty meme compilation video I was watching on Youtube, and then you give me that judgmental smirk of yours and I just…"

"What, really?" Azula laughed. "Every time I judge you? Then that does mean you think about it every single second of the day…"

"Well…! Not every single second, but damn it…!" Sokka blurted out, blushing as Azula chuckled, throwing her head back in relief. "Ack, you just have too much fun at my expenses. Clever, wicked basketball prodigy, you…"

She chuckled still as he picked up the ball and tossed it at her, as good as marking the end of his answers: he had a rather urgent question to ask now, so he'd certainly make sure not to let her score in this round.

Azula attempted to dodge and slip past his defenses, but Sokka appeared to be taking matters much more seriously now: he timed his jump perfectly so his fingertips, if nothing else, would alter the trajectory of the ball… and so, it didn't even hit the board as it dropped on the ground, and Azula glared at him, all amusement gone as Sokka smirked in her direction.

"I hate it when you do that," she said. He shrugged.

"Perks of my teenage growth spurt. We were narrowly the same height once, but…"

"I know we were. And I'm still the better player even if we're not anymore," Azula said, stubbornly. Sokka chuckled.

"And you're still answering me with the truth, even if you are."

Her face twisted into a grimace as she glanced at him… to find him shy and insecure, to a fault. He breathed deeply, however, and raised an eyebrow.

"You don't, uh, find it disgusting that I thought about you in that light for a long time, and way more often than you expected?"

"Disgusting?" Azula repeated. Sokka shrugged.

"You know, men are gross, they're just thinking about sex, they don't care about anything and think with their penises…" Sokka recited. Azula smiled at him.

"Sounds about right, but I've been warned about that since ages ago," she said. Sokka winced. "If anything… I'd have been much more surprised if you'd said it hadn't occurred to you. I mean, we're not exactly… official or anything, but it would have been unflattering if you hadn't wanted to, well…"

"Oh, I want to sleep with you," Sokka said, bluntly. Azula's eyes widened, cheeks flushing. "But… eh, never mind, game on!"

"But what? Hey!" Azula gasped: Sokka grinned as he picked up the ball, dribbling carelessly away from her. "Don't dodge the issue just like that! Sokka!"

"Game on, I said!" Sokka grinned. "Come on, either you stop me or I'll score…!"

He threw the ball. It slid cleanly through the net. Azula eyed him skeptically and Sokka froze on the spot.

"You scored. So… truth, isn't that right?" she smirked. Sokka blinked blankly: "What were you going to say, Sokka? 'But' what?"

"Eh…" Sokka swallowed hard, lowering his hands slowly as he gazed at her with uncertainty. "I just thought… that you matter to me in too many ways, so even if I want this, I want you to be happy and safe far more. So… well, I always figured we weren't ready for that, and that's why we never really tried our luck with it? So… I thought you just didn't want to go for it, and until you did, I was happy enough to just… to be your friend. With, uh, some benefits, I suppose."

"Sounds like you need to switch plans for the full benefits package, huh?" Azula said, with a weak grin. Sokka chuckled at her odd joke.

"Well, if the full package is available for me to switch to…" he said, with a shrug. "I'll gladly do it. But… on your terms. Alright?"

Azula swallowed hard, holding his gaze as he smiled, walking away to pick up the ball and toss it at her. Azula breathed deeply, holding the ball between her hands for a moment that seemed to extent for too long. Sokka stepped up, poking the ball, nudging her through it.

"Hey? Next shot?" he asked.

Azula breathed deeply, glancing at the backboard again. Her fingers trembled before she took a shot, her stance off – the ball bounced off the ring purposefully, and Sokka glanced at her in surprise.

"Azula…"

"Ask what you really want to know," she said, unable to meet his gaze.

Sokka frowned but stepped closer, taking her into his arms so her face would rest upon his chest. He didn't know if he would soothe her by doing this, but he certainly hoped to try.

"What brought this about? Why now?" Sokka asked, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "For the record, I'm not against it, if you're sure. But…"

"You don't want me doing this for the wrong reasons," Azula finished for him. Sokka nodded promptly.

She breathed deeply, burying her face in his chest – not meeting his eyes, it seemed, helped somewhat. Her inability to speak her mind, to truly verbalize what her feelings were, seemed to be genuinely frustrating for her. She gritted her teeth, clutching Sokka's shirt tightly…

"I… I want to know what it's like," she whispered, simply. Sokka raised an eyebrow, though his hands continued to stroke her hair reassuringly as she spoke. "I want to try it. It's… not much deeper than that. I just don't know how to say this without feeling like an idiot, though, I… I don't know how to move anything forward, I…"

"You're not an idiot for saying what you've said," Sokka whispered. Azula shuddered in his arms.

"I… I judge myself enough for it, even if you don't."

"Why?" he asked, softly. Azula let out a soft laugh.

"Why? B-because… we're not really together, are we? We're not… committed or whatever. We've known each other forever and this is… it's not something we've done before."

"Same was true when we first kissed," Sokka whispered. "But I suppose we had some rather annoying people keeping us locked in a room until we did it, huh?"

"Heh…" Azula swallowed hard, reliving that awkward moment in a party, so many years ago, when a certain friend had deviously schemed to make them kiss for the first time.

"Guess people don't do that anymore once you're an adult. We don't get to hide behind 'they made me do it', now, do we?" Sokka asked. Azula shrugged.

"We… shouldn't hide behind anything, should we?" she said. Sokka sighed and nodded.

"Honestly, we shouldn't… but I guess maybe we're still too immature to stop doing that," Sokka smiled sadly. Azula shook her head. "We have a lot of baggage and history here, so… if you're worried this could be a mess, well, it's fair enough to worry. You don't have to…"

"I don't… don't want to lose you."

Sokka's eyes widened.

She never said such things without feeling utterly foolish about it afterwards… and, of course, she cringed over her own words a moment after uttering them. Sokka, however, embraced her even more tightly.

"You won't even if we don't do this," Sokka whispered. Azula shook her head. "Azula…"

"W-we're not really… we're not… w-what if someone else shows up and…? W-what if you're a better fit with someone who's not…? Who's not an idiot who can't even say she wants you in her life? I… I…"

"Azula…" Sokka rubbed her back gently as she buried her face in his neck.

"I'm… embarrassing," she blurted out, and Sokka smiled fondly as he shook his head, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. "I sound like a neurotic, idiot girlfriend and I'm not… n-not your girlfriend. Maybe neurotic, and an idiot, though…"

"You're not, but the girlfriend part is… well, questionable," Sokka said, with a weak smile. Azula stiffened in his arms. "I-I mean, well… honestly, I never knew if… if you felt this way about me."

She didn't respond to his words. Sokka breathed deeply, rubbing her back reassuringly again.

"I got lucky that the mean girl who got me in trouble in preschool was my neighbor across the street," Sokka said, with a gentle smile. Azula actually let out a huff of laughter at those words. "Even luckier that she wanted to teach me how to play basketball at the hoop dangling over her garage door… and that she became the best friend I'd ever have. That she became my first crush, too…"

"I was your…?" Azula said. Sokka hummed.

"You're not about to say that's embarrassing, are you?"

"Well… it kind of is."

"Azula!" he squeaked, and she couldn't hold back a much stronger burst of laughter. "Honestly, girl…"

"I'm… somewhat sorry. Teasing you is always fun…" she said. Sokka smiled, shaking his head.

"Can't pretend that wasn't part of why I liked you, so… I forgive your devious teasing, you clever mastermind, you," he said, swaying in place with her. "Thing is… I never really dared ask you if you'd be my girlfriend because something told me you'd just say 'no'."

"I…" Azula stiffened in his arms. Sokka sighed, rubbing her back again.

"My own insecurities are to blame for that one, I suppose… but I just didn't want to come off as a cringeworthy idiot, you know? And the way you scoffed at all romance when we were teenagers, like it was so ridiculous that everyone was falling in and out of love… I suppose I assumed you were simply revolted by the concept of stupid teenage love, and I was afraid you'd just shut me out if I started doing the same things our friends and classmates were up to. That you'd think I was… well, as dumb as all of them too. I wanted to be on your team, you know? The… the cool team, heh. We were too interesting for that sort of thing, felt like…"

"At least, we pretended to be," Azula responded. Sokka smiled and nodded.

"I was okay with not ever being an actual item, you know? Even if you and I never really formalized things and got married and all that stuff… I was fine with it as long as I could still be with you. It felt like I didn't need to ask you if you wanted to be with me that way because, as soon as I started wondering if maybe we should be more, uh, conventional? You'd have one of those strange days when you'd just keep finding chances to pin me to the nearest wall and…"

"Heh. You did the pinning half the time, now…"

"Only if you started it," Sokka chuckled. He could feel her smiling, and his heart soared for it. "I've always… always wanted to do whatever you wanted to do. If you wanted me… then I'd be yours in whatever way you wanted me to be. If I did anything to piss you off… then I'd either fix it or stay out of your way until you were ready to let me in again. All this time, I…"

"You've just done whatever you thought I'd need… and you never really have slowed down to think about what you want, have you?" Azula asked. "Because… you thought I'd reject it. And… you were scared of disappointing me? Of displeasing me?"

"I… was. Still am, actually," Sokka admitted, with a sad smile. "And that's your cue: I'm embarrassing, aren't I?"

"You are," Azula determined. Sokka sighed, accepting the sentence he had already anticipated. "But… so am I."

"Well, that's nice. We can just make fun of each other for being embarrassing all you like," Sokka smiled.

"What do you want, then?" Azula said, swallowing hard. "If… if I'm embarrassing for being an idiot who can't string two words together where… where fucking feelings are concerned, then maybe learning to do it would make me less embarrassing, right?"

"Uh, maybe…?"

"So… so if you're embarrassing for not thinking about yourself and being scared of failure, then… stop being scared and just tell me. W-what… what would you want of me? What would you have us… be?"

Sokka didn't answer immediately. It wasn't a lie that he had never pondered that concept properly… because so far, they were just Sokka and Azula. They were two people whose lives had been intertwined by many coincidences since childhood, and they had gone on to build a friendship on the strangest foundations they could have found. There was no denying their mutual attraction, no lie to be spoken about their genuine affection for each other… so perhaps it was fine for him to be selfish for once. Perhaps he could simply say what he wanted to say… perhaps Azula wanted him to do so: what if she had only been waiting for him all along? What if all her dismissing of the typical teenage romances had simply been a way to hope to appeal to him… to try to show him that what they had was much more important, much deeper than the short-lived relationships that crumbled all around them, at the time?

He swallowed hard. His hands trembled. His lips parted as he leaned over to speak in her ear:

"I… I want to live my life with you. I don't care whatever we label it… but I know I want you. Not… not everyone's as lucky as I was, okay? Getting to… to know the love of your life since you were a kid? That's a goddamn miracle, so…"

Azula's arms tightened around him: it took him a moment to register it, but tears seemed to escape her eyes, filtering through his shirt. His heart pounded hard at the unforeseen emotional reaction of the most emotionally repressed person he had ever known…

"T-that's… so embarrassing…"

She said the words with a thread of a voice, so frayed by tears Sokka couldn't help but laugh as he held her tightly. He pressed another kiss to the top of her head and she continued to cling to him, as though to never let go: had she longed to hear those words for many years? Sokka had no idea if she had. But he had finally voiced them and a weight seemed to have been lifted off his shoulders now. Azula wouldn't let herself cry easily on any given day or moment, Sokka knew, and she'd likely shut herself down at any second now… but he held her anyway until her self-awareness returned, to put an end to her most unusual emotional reaction.

They stood there in comforting silence for about five minutes: Sokka's shirt was drenched by tears, but he disregarded the humidity of the fabric as Azula finally pulled back, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"T-throw… another one," she said. Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"Say what?"

"Make another throw," she said, swallowing hard. "Last one of the night. Whatever happens next… is up to you."

Sokka blinked blankly at first, but he shrugged and made his way to pick up the ball again. It seemed Azula wasn't about to defend this time, so he stepped up comfortably to the free-throw line, and he frowned as he pondered what the right choice would be. Truth wouldn't be all that bad anymore, what did he have to lose by now, frankly? He'd told her plenty of truths so far and nothing bad had happened. Dare… it might be some embarrassing thing again, he supposed. Maybe he'd be able to improve her mood that way… but maybe she didn't want him to make his choices for that reason anymore.

Old habits died hard, though.

Sokka breathed deeply and threw the ball.

It arched smoothly on its way down… but it fell short by a few inches. Sokka glanced at Azula with a weak grin as the ball bounded on the ground, rolling towards the bench where he had left his bag.

"Well?" he said. "What's it going to be now?"

Azula's eyes seemed to glow under the campus's night lights. There was a most unusual expression upon her face… a vulnerable one that Sokka guessed meant she would try to say something difficult once more. Whatever dare she had in mind…

"Take me to… well, someplace more private than the dorms," she said, hands shaking as she spoke – it almost pained her to say things she likely found utterly ridiculous, and yet she pushed herself to say them all the same: "I dare you to… to go for it. I dare you to sleep with me."

...

Technically, everything might have begun when Sokka's family moved into the neighborhood – a four-year-old Azula and her six-year-old brother had watched keenly, through the windows as the moving trucks brought in the many boxes that belonged to the new tenants right across the street.

But for Azula and Sokka, the true beginning had taken place a few days later: Hakoda and Kya dropped off Katara and Sokka in the preschool early in the morning, and many other kids arrived later. Sokka, the troublemaker that he was, had stolen a trophy from the ball pit: a singular cerulean ball that he hoped to play with once he made a friend…

And as he glanced about the room, his eyes fell upon her.

She might have been smaller than Katara. Her hair was tidily combed into a small bun, with a fringe framing her delicate face. Sokka's jaw dropped as his attention focused entirely on her, without so much as noticing the boy beside her, who took off to find some of his friends right away, leaving his younger sister behind.

Without thinking twice, Sokka stepped forward. The girl raised her gaze in his direction. He smiled at her, and she didn't smile back.

"Hello," he said, simply. "I'm Sokka."

She didn't answer. She eyed him apprehensively.

He blinked blankly before deciding to take a more proactive approach: he showed her the cerulean ball, his grand trophy, with a proud grin.

Her eyes lit up right away. He snickered happily, and she clasped the ball, taking it from his small hands.

He only realized he wasn't holding it anymore after she smiled with abandon, gazing at the plastic ball as though it were her trophy now, instead…

"It's mine…" Sokka said, reaching out to grab it… but the little girl's smile turned into a scowl, and she refused to hand it over. "It's mine!"

She let out a threatening, angry groan that made Sokka pout: it was his ball! He had taken it from the pit himself, he had wanted to play with her…!

And in attempting to convey that to the girl, quite unsuccessfully, he found himself at the receiving end of a stern scolding by the preschool teacher, who had already told him not to take the balls out from the ball pit… though he wasn't the only one she told off. Azula, too, had been scolded, and she cried bitterly while shooting resentful glares at him. He, of course, returned the favor: he had wanted to be her friend! She was the one who had messed everything up by not sharing that simple, dumb plastic ball, not him…

And so, Azula hated him. And he hated her right back. But as they were children, grudges were complicated and simple in numerous ways: they would have good days at times, and then they would have terrible ones. The teacher's efforts to make them get along would go to waste more often than not, but sometimes, with no effort, she'd find them sitting together, doing their schoolwork perfectly calmly. Nobody could really understand whatever strange dynamic those two had developed, but it seemed to be a strange hostility, a respectful rivalry… at least, on the most part. And that was how everything had been through preschool until finally the two started primary school…

But the greatest change in their relationship happened outside of the school's premises: Sokka had been returning home after school when he heard the sound of a heavy, bouncing basketball across the street. It wasn't too surprising to hear that – he had overheard his mother raving to his father that one of their neighbors was actually a basketball star player, and Sokka had occasionally seen the older members of that family shooting hoops and even playing together by their garage entrance, where their basketball board hung…

But he had never seen the tiniest member of the family, Azula herself, throwing what likely was a very heavy ball for a child her size, all be it in the hopes of scoring at least once.

He approached the house's fence, supporting himself on it and watching as his very stubborn neighbor threw the ball with near frustration: it bounced back at her every time, but it never reached the right height.

"Why don't you stand closer?" he asked, simply: she jumped, glaring at him instinctively as she held the ball to her chest. Sokka huffed. "What? Think I'm going to take it? That's what you did, not me…"

"Shut up," Azula retorted, stubbornly. "You don't know how to play…"

"How do you know I don't know?" Sokka said. "I'm the best in PE in my class!"

"You're not," Azula said, simply, with no more arguments than that. Sokka stuck his tongue out at her.

"At least I'm better than your brother," he said… and to his surprise, she smiled.

"Zuko is a loser," she said, proudly. Sokka couldn't hold back a smile of his own upon hearing her certainty as she said that.

"And you're better than him?" Sokka asked. Azula nodded proudly. "Can you score? Have you done it before?"

Her pause suggested her answer would be a lie. She nodded, instead of speaking, and then turned towards the hoop once more, tossing the ball: yet again, it failed to reach its goal.

"Stand closer," Sokka said. This time, she shot him an awkward glance. "You'll do better if you stand closer."

To his surprise, she listened. The ball rose higher now, and it almost fell on her head once it returned to the ground, but she caught it anyway.

"Is the ball too heavy?" he asked. Azula shook her head. "You sure?"

"It's… fine!" Azula said, tossing it as powerfully as she could: this time she gasped when it went over the ring, bouncing on the board and returning to the ground without going through the hoop.

"Hey! You almost got it!" Sokka exclaimed, infected by her enthusiasm.

She tossed again, and again, and again…

After about twenty-five tries, the ball finally slipped through the net safely.

"You did it!" Sokka cheered, beaming as Azula smiled brightly at him. "You scored! That's so cool, Azula!"

"I… well, yes," she shrugged, picking up the ball…

She tossed it his way, even if the fence stood between them. Sokka gasped as Azula shrugged in his direction, once the ball slowed down right at the closed door of the fence.

"You want to try?" she asked.

Until that moment, he had assumed she'd never let him take anything that she believed was hers. He blinked blankly before smiling and nodding at her offer, and Azula unlocked the fence's door so he could come in to play, too.

They threw the ball for hours, one throw each, even if either of them was likely to try to sneak in one more throw on occasion. Sokka, as it turned out, had even less experience at playing basketball than Azula did… so they simply took to learning how to throw the ball at the backboard together, cheering whenever they scored, pouting whenever they failed…

A shiny, glossy black car suddenly slowed down outside the house, and Sokka winced as he immediately felt the need to run away: Azula's parents had come home already? Was it that late…?

Azula clutched the ball nervously before taking to pushing Sokka out of the car's path, into the front lawn of the house: her mother climbed off the passenger's seat, smiling in their direction before unlocking the garage's fence. Within moments, Azula's father had driven into the parking space safely, and her mother locked the small door again before turning to regard her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

"Training again, I see?" she said. Azula stiffened but nodded. "And?"

"I scored today! I did, Mom!" Azula exclaimed, running up to Ursa with the ball in her hands. "He saw it, you can ask him…!"

"Oh?" Ursa raised her eyebrows, glancing at Sokka next. He winced, immediately bashful, unsure that he would be allowed to be here at all even if he had meant no harm… "You're our neighbor from across the street, aren't you?"

"U-uh, I am. I'm just…" Sokka mumbled, shyly… and then Ursa smiled warmly at them both.

"It's good to meet you directly this way, then. I'm glad Azula made a new friend."

It was a completely confusing concept at first: friends? Were they actually friends? Their relationship so far had been conflict upon conflict… but Azula's mother believed they were friends. So perhaps… perhaps that was what they were.

"Is everything alright?" Azula's father spoke: he had only just climbed off the car, clad in a tidy suit that Sokka gawked at with astonishment. Ursa chuckled, glancing at her husband with a reassuring smile.

"Quite so. It seems Azula has finally scored, dear… both in basketball and in friendship, from the sound of it."

"Hmm," Ozai's eyes fell upon the little boy standing near his daughter. He raised an eyebrow before letting out a deep sigh. "You won't go overboard training them, will you?"

"What, me? Oh, come now, how could I ever…?" Ursa said, with a guilty smile that brought a genuine one from her husband. He shook his head, marching towards the front door… though he ensured to caress Azula's hair gently as he passed beside her.

"Good job, Azula," he said. Her eyes lit up brightly, cheeks flushed with delight as her father went indoors… and as her mother breathed out slowly, gazing at the two children once more.

"I have a good feeling about you two. So… if you don't mind, can you show me how you scored again?"

Azula nodded promptly: she didn't waste time showing her mother her very unprofessional posture and throwing technique, and Ursa laughed fondly as she knelt by her daughter's side, helping correct her hands and legs' positioning, and even giving her a few hints as to what to aim for in order to score. Sokka took mental notes of her advice too, thrilled to throw the ball whenever it fell in his hands, and ready to rejoice if Azula happened to score again…

Being coached by a professional female athlete certainly paid off: where Sokka had been boasting emptily about being at the top of his class in PE before, a few weeks of frequent training sessions with Ursa and Azula had seen him outdoing his classmates quickly, even Zuko, whose few attempts at joining their training sessions had resulted in him storming out in frustration over his sister and Sokka's joint efforts to annoy him. Hence, Sokka wound up befriending Zuko's sister sooner than Zuko, and the bond between them tightened constantly as they grew older and taller, becoming much more capable players and even inspiring several of their newer friends to join their school's basketball team with them.

They spent most afternoons together if they could get away with it, whether training in school or at Azula's house, and while the foundations of their relationship had been a most awkward incident in preschool, by the time Sokka was in third year of middle school, he and Azula were, without a doubt, best friends.

Ty Lee's thirteenth birthday party put that notion to the test in an unforeseen way, though.

"Seven minutes in heaven?" Katara repeated, perplexed by the girl's suggestion. "Isn't that…?"

"A game not suitable for eleven-year-olds!" Ty Lee squealed: Toph left perfectly willingly, making faces of disgust upon knowing what Katara wanted them to do, while Aang whimpered about wanting to stay… but the birthday girl had her own plans in mind.

It was safe to say that the only one genuinely thrilled by the concept of the game was her: half the boys appeared terrified, especially Zuko, while the girls were apprehensive. Ty Lee snickered as she readied herself to draw a boy's name and a girl's name for her mischievous purposes... but she ensured to draw the boy's name, first:

"And our first boy is… Sokka!" she exclaimed: he winced, cheeks flushing at being the very first one to be chosen.

"I don't know if… uh…" Sokka grimaced, eyes flickering from side to side: he glanced at Azula in sheer panic, an unpleasant tug in his chest making him want to tell her he wasn't interested in this nonsense at all, he didn't want to do it, of course not…!

But his bashful, awkward reactions amounted to nothing: Ty Lee tasked the other boys in the group – Zuko, Haru, Jet and Chan – with taking Sokka to another room in Ty Lee's family house, where he would have to wait for his partner to show up. Azula watched him go, a grimaced over her face as she dreaded whatever name Ty Lee would draw next…

"Of course, Katara's not part of this draw, no, sir…" she said, happily. Azula huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she overheard to Sokka's protests, still dragged away by the others.

"Are you sure about this?" Mai asked, crooking an eyebrow. Ty Lee snickered.

"Of course I am!" Ty Lee exclaimed. "It's an ironclad, perfect plan."

"You don't do plans," Azula said, frowning and glancing in her direction. "Every single time I draw up a strategy for the team, you…"

"That's different! This is way more important than a game!" Ty Lee grinned: Azula's eyebrow twitched as she glared at her friend, who turned towards the bowl full of scrambled names once more. "And now… the girl who'll go with Sokka!"

"He's safely tucked away by now, so we're ready to proceed," Chan grinned with unabashed wickedness, as he and the others returned to the room.

"Are we sure about this…?" Haru asked, softly. Ty Lee giggled and nodded promptly.

"This will be perfect! You'll see!" she said. "We can even go wilder and not split boys and girls for the next round…!"

"Wait, really?" Suki asked, eyes wide. Mai huffed.

"Doesn't matter if I get a guy or a girl, I'm not doing any of the crap you want us to," Mai declared, sternly. Ty Lee stuck her tongue out in her direction, but she stuck her hand in the bowl…

And yet Azula paid more attention to the draw this time… noticing that she hadn't simply picked a paper at random. No, she had felt for something, she had taken too long to draw the paper, she… she had marked it, somehow. She was cheating! Whatever she was doing, the draw was illicit and Azula opened her mouth to say as much…

"It's Azula!"

She froze on the spot.

Her intent to reveal Ty Lee's treachery vanished as her friend grinned at her with encouraging glee. Zuko made faces of disgust while Haru seemed relieved – perhaps he assumed Azula wasn't the type to take advantage of the situation, and she wouldn't cause much trouble to the junior high's basketball boys' team captain…

"Come on, then! You know the rules! It's seven minutes of privacy, just for the two of you…!" Ty Lee squealed, setting down the bowl with the rest of the papers as she jumped up and down giddily. "It's exactly what you need!"

"We… what? Why would we need…?! Ty Lee!" Azula huffed as her friend clasped her wrist, dragging her down the corridor of her house: they weren't joined by the other party-goers, providing Ty Lee with a moment to smile knowingly at Azula.

"Come on, you two have had crushes on each other forever! Don't play dumb," she said. Azula scoffed.

"Playing dumb? I… I have no idea what you're talking about," she said: the redness of her cheeks didn't convince Ty Lee of the truthfulness of Azula's claims.

"You're so silly," Ty Lee giggled, stopping at the room Sokka was waiting in. "I'll be back in seven minutes, okay? And if you two haven't done anything…! Then it'll be another seven! You heard me!"

"Are you serious here?" Azula grimaced, as Ty Lee snickered and pulled the door open.

"Dear Sokka…!" she called him: the sound of her voice caused him to wince, and her devious poking of her head through the ajar door caused Sokka to shake his head violently, standing nervously in the small study as he was.

"No, no, no! You're not going to be my first kiss, Ty Lee, so don't you dare…!"

"Aw, your first? Saving it for someone special, are you?" she smirked deviously. "Well… here's your chance!"

She shoved Azula inside the room and closed the door promptly behind her.

Sokka's protests died down immediately at that.

Their eyes met, even in the dimly lit room. They knew they weren't supposed to be there, it was Ty Lee's father's study, and if they so much as tripped over any of his architect's equipment, he would likely kick all of them, Ty Lee included, out of his house for good. But there they were… and there they would stay for another seven minutes, it seemed.

"I… I'm afraid you're, uh, in an awkward situation," Azula said, with a frigid smile. "Ty Lee schemed to do this. I don't know what she got into her head about you and me, but…"

"Uh… w-well, whatever it was, I'm glad it's you," Sokka said, with a gentle grin of his own. "I was kind of worried, really. I mean, the way she talks sounds like she has a crush on just about every guy she meets, and I really hoped not to be one of them… freaked me out for a second that I might be."

"Doesn't seem like it, so… congratulations," Azula said, with a shrug. "Anyway…"

"Anyway?" Sokka raised his eyebrows, meeting her gaze with his own.

"I… guess I just have to warn you that she said she'll keep us locked in here until we do… 'something'," Azula said, rolling her eyes and running a hand over her hair – she had styled it today for some reason. It was Ty Lee's birthday, yes, of course she had to dress appropriately for it… but she had done so more self-consciously than usual. She had genuinely hoped to look good, and not just for the sake of projecting the right image…

Who was she even trying to impress? They were all friends from school, members of the boys and girls' basketball teams. She and Sokka were the captains of each team, the better players in their middle school… they saw each other constantly, trained together, played games against each other and even studied tactics together. If she wanted to impress him, she should have done it by showing him a basketball move he hadn't ever seen before… not simply dressing up, doing her hair, wearing a light perfume, filing and even painting her dumb nails…

Why the hell had she done any of that? Why the hell was she standing right here, in front of him, feeling her heart racing as she told herself that nothing could possibly happen, that nothing would, because he was her friend. He was her best friend. He was her oldest friend. There was simply no way Ty Lee's ridiculous meddling would change any of that…

"So… huh. You mean, if we decide not to do this…" Sokka said, frowning.

"We can always pretend we did so she leaves us alone," Azula said, with a shrug. "How would they know anyway? I can… I can take off some of my lipstick, rub it over your mouth with my hand, how about that?"

"She might notice you're hiding the smear on your hand if you do that," Sokka pointed out. Azula grimaced – idiot that she was, why had she put on noticeable makeup? To think such a foolish choice would bite her in the ass this way…

"Well, then… what do we do?" Azula said, eyeing him warily. "You don't think we should go for it, do you?"

"I… well. I'm not… going to say no if you don't say no, I guess?" Sokka said: his cheeks reddened and Azula frowned at him. "I mean! Well, it is my first kiss, and I suppose it's yours…"

"Of course it is," Azula huffed.

"Well… uh, well, maybe I shouldn't have said anything, then. Guess you're saving it for a big, special moment?" Sokka said, scratching the back of his neck. Azula rolled her eyes. "Or maybe not."

"You know I think that stuff is just… dumb. Okay? It's dumb," Azula said, shaking her head. "People will kiss whoever the hell they want, and some might kiss the same person forever while others kiss every idiot who's willing, so… it's all stupid in the end. I mean… what's even the point of kissing, really? It has to be so… so annoying. So uncomfortable. Like… having your face so close to someone else's? Who wouldn't be grossed out by that?"

"Grossed out… heh, well, I guess. But, well, for the record?" Sokka said, with a weak grin. "I wouldn't be grossed out by your face. Not saying we have to do this! Just… just clarifying one thing I figured was important, nothing more…"

"W-well… I mean, I'm not saying you're gross, just… ugh, this is so stupid," Azula said, shaking her head: her pride was flaring in just about every direction, and her heart was racing because maybe, just maybe, she would kiss him today… and why would that thought make butterflies flutter in her stomach?

"Yeah, well, it is," Sokka said, with a sad smile. "It's fine if you don't want to do it, though. We can just sit here, quietly, and…"

"And wait for Ty Lee's dad to show up?" Azula asked, eyeing Sokka skeptically. He winced.

"Maybe we should escape through the window…" he suggested. Azula snorted.

"You'd really risk a three-story jump to avoid…?"

"To avoid Ty Lee pressuring you into doing something you don't want to do? Well… sure? Don't want me to?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow. Azula grimaced.

"I'm not saying I… I mean, wait. Something I don't want to do? Just me? What the hell does that mean?"

"I mean…!" Sokka's cheeks flushed as he lowered his head. "Well, you know, Ty Lee's been threatening us all with this party the whole week, right? She… she said everyone was going to get kissed one way or another, beats me how she's going to go about making that happen, but… if she does think of any weirder games later, who knows who she's going to try to pair me with? So… you know, not the best-case scenario, but if I'm going to kiss someone for the first time today, I'd rather it's you. I-if you… if you would want that too, of course. Or if you think you could want that? Or… if you'd rather it was me instead of any of those guys, I don't know…"

Azula's chest tightened: he'd rather it was her? It didn't have to mean anything, maybe he just didn't like the other girls much. But there was certainly a possibility that he liked her, particularly, to some degree…

"That's embarrassing," Azula said, averting her gaze from him. Sokka sighed, hanging his head.

"I know, I know, I…"

He raised his eyes to find her cheeks were lit up with a rather unusual blush.

"Azula…?" he blinked a couple of times and she sighed heavily.

"Like I said, people just do this as if it's no big deal, right? Adults do it, and we'll be adults eventually. So… it should be no big deal for us, too. Half the girls in class do nothing but boast about their relationships…" Azula said, rolling her eyes.

"And you've always been so focused on schoolwork and the team that you don't really care for this stuff, right?" Sokka said, with a shy smile. Azula sighed and shrugged.

"I don't see the fuss. And I doubt I will if we do this, anyway, but… you're probably right. If we're going to do this, it's better if it's you."

Her tone, her nonchalance, suggested this didn't mean anything to her. And yet her cheeks were still red, and she kept averting her gaze. Sokka narrowed his eyes as though to scrutinize deeper into her motives, into her words…

"Azula…"

A knock on the door startled them. Azula glanced back at it in sheer panic until a sing-song voice drifted in.

"It's been five minutes…! And it's going to be seven more if I open this door and you two haven't done anything!"

Her devious giggle caused Azula to roll her eyes: yes, these games were utterly idiotic, she grew more convinced of it by the minute. People who wanted relationships should simply get into them and those who didn't shouldn't, and the ones who wanted to kiss others could just kiss whoever wanted to kiss them too… she didn't care about any of that, of course she didn't, and Ty Lee had no right to pressure them this way, but curses…

A stupid, curious part of her wanted to try it, nonetheless.

Sokka breathed deeply as he stepped closer to her – he was half a head taller than her these days. He had always been slightly taller than Azula, but puberty seemed to be doing wonders for his basketball build. He might even become tall enough to dunk the ball one day, Azula thought… maybe he'd grow tall enough to catch the eye of some other tall girl who would appeal to him, too. A strange burst of pride inside her compelled her to believe that stealing Sokka's first kiss would mean that, even if that did happen, this potential girl wouldn't get his everything… a stupid, petty thought, yet one that ensured she stood firmly on her spot, meeting Sokka's eyes.

"She'll come back, so…" he said. Azula gritted her teeth but nodded. "You're really sure this is okay?"

"I have no idea, just… get it over with," Azula said, bashfully. Sokka smiled a little.

"Then… close your eyes."

She did as he asked, trying not to tremble as she felt him moving closer: she felt his breath first, his warm presence moving in, his hands upon her shoulders, and she wanted to turn back and flee…

Then his lips touched hers.

Whatever she had feared before suddenly bloomed into an entirely different feeling. Where he had somehow appeared to overwhelm her with his proximity a moment ago, suddenly it felt as though he belonged exactly where he was, his lips against hers in that tentative, shy manner that she reciprocated softly…

He pulled back, and they opened their eyes.

"T-there. We kissed," Sokka said, his face crimson. Azula swallowed hard and nodded.

"Right. We… we did," she said, lowering her gaze.

It had been a long time since any conversation between them had been so awkward and clumsy… and Azula resolved to change that, raising her head again to look at him: a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he froze on the spot when he had her attention again.

"Don't think the seven minutes are up," she said. Sokka smiled and shrugged.

"Guess not. Otherwise she would've…"

He fell silent when her hand clasped his neck, reeling him closer: now it was Azula who led the charge into their second kiss.

They exchanged no words before the third: it was more than just a brush between their lips this time, a much more active kiss even if still a chaste one. Sokka's hands slid down to Azula's hips, her own arms locked around his neck, and with eyes closed, they gave themselves to a strange, heightened, extended moment of giving in to a simple pleasure of life, something they were certainly glad to be experiencing with each other…

A knock on the door again: Sokka winced, but Azula didn't loosen her hold on him.

"Either you get to it or you get to it, you two, there's no…!" Ty Lee exclaimed, yanking the door open once the seven minutes were up…

She fell silent, abruptly, upon finding the two team captains locked in a surprisingly affectionate embrace. Even from this angle, where Azula's head covered the actual action going on between them, it was clear that they were kissing.

That Ty Lee screamed happily gave away quickly that something was going on in the study. Azula's eager kisses slowed then, and she sighed before rolling her eyes at Ty Lee's reaction. Sokka smiled weakly, finding Azula's cheeks were as red as his felt, too.

"Guess she can't complain, can she?" Sokka said. Azula scoffed.

"Not like it's her business anyway," she said. "We should get out of here, though."

"Uh… right," Sokka gritted his teeth, and Azula clasped his hand.

She didn't guide him back to Ty Lee's bedroom, where the wild birthday girl screamed about what she'd witnessed. She didn't lead him to the living room, where Toph and Aang were playing videogames together, left out of Ty Lee's most thrilling birthday activities but having plenty of fun in their own way.

Instead, Azula led Sokka to the top of the stairs in Ty Lee's grand house, a location distant enough where, with any luck, they wouldn't be bothered. Sokka didn't protest as she urged him to take his seat at the topmost step, and he certainly had no complaints when she found his lips with hers once more.

It never made a lot of sense, as far as Sokka could tell, that someone as blunt in her dismissiveness of relationships would be quite so keen on kissing him ever since that day. It wasn't like it happened every time they met, but it would happen often enough that he'd find himself wondering if it meant they were a couple: he didn't dare bring up the subject, though, unwilling to displease her, unwilling to sound like all the classmates she found so annoying. If he dared say anything corny, she'd be certain to tell him he was embarrassing, maybe even gross, if it was far mushier than she anticipated… but somehow, he always seemed to understand that she didn't quite hate the things he said. Even so, his willingness to test the waters with any serious conversations diminished out of fear of genuinely causing her to think he was a lost cause… she'd said it all along, hadn't she? People kissed because they felt like it. There was no real reason for it to mean more than that…

No real reason why they'd sometimes cuddle while watching TV together, whenever they visited the other's house.

No real reason why they'd wind up making out in the school gym's storage room after putting away their basketball gear for the day.

No real reason why he'd ask her to go with him to prom in high school.

No real reason why she'd ensure to be accepted in the same university he had been scouted by.

They were friends. Closer than friends. They certainly liked each other a fair amount. Perhaps more than friends generally did… but that was it. There were boundaries they had not breached, could not breach, for pride ensured they wouldn't do so…

And yet now, almost ten years after that first kiss, sixteen years since their chaotic first conflict over that singular cerulean ball, they found themselves standing together in a small, cozy hotel room, gazing at each other with undisguised anticipation.

"Well. Step one complete, I guess," Sokka said, swallowing hard. "I… don't really know what we should do next, heh. We should be, uh, getting in the mood?"

"Right. Definitely looks like we're on the right track for that," Azula replied, bitingly. Sokka chuckled, a hand rising to cover his eyes.

"Look, it's not like I can't get in the mood, I definitely can… but I need you to understand this is surreal to me," Sokka said, breathing deeply.

"Losing your virginity is surreal?" Azula asked, amused. Sokka nodded promptly. "Come on…"

"Right, people do this all the time, don't they?" Sokka said, echoing her words from the past, if in different regards. Azula scowled in his direction. "It's what you said when we…"

"I know, Sokka."

"And then we ended up kissing all the time, so…"

"You're not about to say we'll… fuck all the time after this, are you?" Azula huffed, eyeing him skeptically. Sokka shrugged.

"I mean… think about it. This would be our first. We have no idea what we're doing, so… it's like being flung into a basketball game without knowing a single rule," he said. "After a couple of minutes of confusion, you might just start to understand how this goes… but then the coach switches you out because you're making a mess of things and you end up benched the rest of the game, heh."

"That sounds promising," Azula said, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Well, if you let the benched player try again after they get a feel for what they're doing… maybe they'll surprise you?" Sokka said, with a weak grin. "Besides, it's not like we had a clue of what we were doing when we first kissed, we literally figured it out by doing it like… well, a million times, so…"

"A valid argument, I suppose. If… if we're not entirely useless at sex, it's not a terrible idea to do it more than once…" Azula said, lowering her gaze. Sokka breathed deeply and nodded.

"But before we get to it… well, maybe we should talk some more."

"Heh. Now I'm the one who ought to have some crisis over you breaking up with me."

"You don't seriously think I'd ever break up with you, do you?" Sokka smiled fondly at her. "In your words: it's not like…"

"There's anything to break," Azula finished, eyeing him skeptically. He grinned carelessly in her direction. "Ugh, whatever. I… thought we were done talking. You know I'm better at the non-talking stage of things, so get it over with quickly, okay?"

"Well, we'll see if that works out," Sokka said, breathing deeply as he approached the bed.

He sat at the foot of it, taking off his shoes and tossing them aside. For a wild moment, Azula wondered if he wouldn't stop at that, but he did. Her heart raced stupidly – she had seen him in a swimsuit before, it wasn't going to be all that different from seeing him naked, curses...

She joined him by the foot of the bed, doing what he'd done just the same. Then, they sat side by side, in silence.

"Do you… want to play another game with me?" Sokka asked. Azula sighed.

"What kind of game?" she asked, simply.

"A much less amusing one. Might not be a game at all, come to think of it," Sokka admitted, running his hand over his hair.

Azula eyed him with uncertainty, her hands gripping the bedding with more force than necessary: why the hell was she so nervous? Her heart raced so wildly she might grow level-headed from that alone. Was it her own fault for delaying this as much as she had? For never figuring out how to have a reasonable relationship with him? It might be…

"How much do you know about, uh… BDSM?"

His words caused her eyes to widen: she shot him a disbelieving glare, jaw dropping as his face flushed immediately.

"I don't mean we'll do that! J-just…!" Sokka squealed.

"You'd be the masochist if we did. As proven by you asking that question," Azula huffed. Sokka slapped his face with a hand, a couple of chuckles spilling from his lips.

"Sorry. I know that was hard to believe but… listen, I've got as little experience with that as you do, which means none, but I heard that they have something called… a safe word?"

Azula frowned.

"I… do know about that," she said, glancing at him warily. Sokka breathed deeply.

"I'm not thinking about using it for the sake of whatever we'll do in bed… but for other purposes, instead," he said, swallowing hard. "I've gotten used to it, but… I'm starting to think that your embarrassment over all touchy-feely things may be hindering you in ways you never really processed before."

"You're psychoanalyzing me again, are you?" Azula asked, crooking an eyebrow. "Taking that class definitely wasn't a good idea…"

"It was good in the sense that it might help you," Sokka said, letting out a deep breath. "Look… I could tell you right now that I want to date you. That I want to be your boyfriend. That I want to be your husband one day. But I don't because…"

"Because… you think I'd say it's embarrassing?" Azula asked, raising an eyebrow: her face heated up merely upon hearing him say those words… and the implication of his hesitation floored her.

"Whenever I do something dumb, whenever I do something more sentimental than you're used to, whenever I praise you in any way that feels too mushy?" Sokka said. "You say it's embarrassing and I don't mind it at all, because heh, maybe I'm embarrassing after all. But… when it comes to serious things, it freaks me out that you might say that. I… I couldn't even fathom doing anything that might actually disgust you with me. And it turns out that, for all I thought I understood you, maybe I didn't understand you as well as I thought I did…"

"You… didn't ask me those things because you thought I'd say you were embarrassing," Azula said. "Then… shit. Have I been, well, hurting you every single time I…?"

"No, that's not what I mean…" Sokka said, with a sad smile, but Azula shook her head.

"I just… ugh. I don't know how to do this, okay?" she said, burying her face in her hands. "I suck at talking about this stuff, you've always known I do, and I'm an idiot for that. But I… I didn't want to hurt you, okay? So if I did… I…"

"Azula…"

"I'm sorry."

She seldom said those words. She certainly didn't say them with that much emotion whenever it happened, either.

Sokka wrapped his arms around her body, reeling her in for a gentle hug: she shook her head, yet again flustered, he knew, over her outburst…

"I'm… such an idiot, I… why the hell am I crying…?"

"You're not an idiot for crying, and see? This is exactly what we need the safe word for."

"S-so I can cry? That's stupid…"

"So I can say things without you immediately calling them stupid… so that you can say things without me making stupid jokes that make you self-aware, afterwards."

This time, his words gave her pause. Azula raised her head, glancing at him in confusion even through her misty eyes. Sokka offered her a sad grin, caressing her face gently.

"It's just an idea. If you don't like it, that's okay… but the point is for it to mean we get to have a safe space, a safe moment. Neither of us judges the other for anything in that moment, okay? We're free to say anything we need to say. Neither one will make light of the situation in any way… neither one will dismiss it as stupid or embarrassing. We can go right back to our usual state afterwards… but while the safe word is in effect, it means we get to say what needs to be said safely. How does that sound?"

"I…" Azula blinked blankly at his proposal, lowering her gaze slowly.

Judging… joking. Those were, truly, their typical responses to everything. Defense mechanisms… Sokka had rambled about those after he took that psychology class, and he spent about a week pinpointing all her defense mechanisms, to which she had only grown even more defensive and she punished him by refusing to kiss him again until he stopped – hence, he stopped. He had made matters into a joke… and she had made it sound stupid when it was anything but.

It should have been frustrating to realize that Sokka had seen through their emotional turmoil and the source of the flaws in their communication so effectively… a part of her, that gnawing, unnerving pride, urged her to be frustrated indeed.

But she wasn't.

It was as though something had clicked inside her heart… as though a possibility she had never thought existed had presented itself right now. She met his eyes again, finding him no less genuine and serious than he had been a moment ago.

"We… we'd choose a safe word? And then use that for… for whenever we want to take things completely seriously?" Azula asked. Sokka nodded slowly. "Doesn't just have to be about… well, what I dared you to do tonight, but about everything?"

"Yep. Anything goes," Sokka said. "If you want to confess that you hate the way I bake pancakes, well… you'd use the safe word and I'd have to listen and accept what you said, no jokes involved, no whining. Okay?"

"Huh… fine. Though you hardly bake the pancakes, you buy the premade mix anyway…" Azula mumbled. Sokka smiled and shook his head.

"No laughing is allowed, either. We're going to show each other so much self-control you'll be shocked it's even possible," Sokka said, caressing her hair. "See… Ty Lee used to ramble about something silly, didn't she? The… love languages, was it?"

"I never paid any attention when she talked about that," Azula confessed. Sokka bit his lip.

"Well, I paid a tiny bit of attention, but I think there's one that…" he said. "Uh… what the hell was it they called it? I mean, it's communication, in short, but still…"

He surprised Azula by pulling up his smartphone, a disgruntled frown on his face as he googled the concept in a rush. Azula smiled, watching his quick scrolling until he finally came across what he had been searching for:

"Aha! There! It was 'words of affirmation', see?" Sokka declared, smiling proudly as he showed the article to Azula. She raised a judgmental eyebrow… and then grimaced at her own instinctive need to judge just about anything that happened around her. She breathed deeply, trying to repress that urge as Sokka spoke. "Basically, it's just… verbal communication of your affection towards someone? Not something hard to grasp as a concept, but not something anyone can do easily. Me? I'm always worried I'll say something that will make you decide I was a waste of your time and that you don't want anything else to do with me…"

"Is that why you were so sure I was going to dump you?" Azula asked.

"Eh… honestly, I've constantly worried about not being good enough for you," Sokka admitted, with a sad smile. "Maybe I was wrong to, but I couldn't really help myself. So… I've basically held back from saying everything I think because every time I assume you might respond poorly to it, I shut my mouth. Whereas you…"

"I find everything embarrassing and I judge everything," Azula recited: even her voice was charged with skepticism she still barely knew how to shake off. "So… when I try to show even a slight amount of emotional investment in something, I… I cringe at myself, frankly. And it's…"

"Don't…"

"It's stupid."

"There's no need to say that, Azula, really," Sokka huffed. Azula sighed. "That's part of the problem, okay? Don't immediately assume everything you do is stupid, because then it's going to be a snowballing problem and we'll never sort it out…"

"Fine, then. I'll try not to, but it's not easy to stop doing it," Azula grimaced. "Anyway… you think we need to communicate and do all the fancy love languages or whatever you called them?"

"Well, I don't think we're messing up much with the others," Sokka said, glancing at Azula with uncertainty. "But see, this one's definitely giving us trouble. I don't think it's wrong for me to assume and state that we care about each other, right? So… it's in our benefit to be more honest about things. About how we feel, about what we want… and what you did today? It's a big step in the right direction, alright? So don't say it's stupid or judge yourself for it… it's actual progress, and what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I suppose…" Azula said. Sokka glanced at her.

"That sounds like there's something."

"Ugh, I don't… I don't even know," Azula said, dropping her face in her hand again. Sokka smiled sadly, shaking his head.

"Boomerang."

She frowned, glancing at him again. He grinned and shrugged in her direction.

"Our safe word. Not something we'd use in common conversation, right? If you don't like it, it can be something else. But if you think it's okay…"

"I… don't know," Azula admitted, eyeing Sokka with uncertainty. He clasped her hand gently.

"Then, once you do know… I'll say the word and you'll tell me whatever you're thinking. I won't judge, I won't laugh, I won't try to make you laugh. We'll be so serious it's going to be unnerving. So…"

Azula breathed out slowly: her hand clasped his, fingers slipping through his own. Her uncertainty lasted for a moment… and then she spoke the word:

"Boomerang."

Sokka nodded. He angled his body towards hers, and Azula kept her eyes focused on his chest: her lips parted, and her racing heart seemed to be about to break out of her ribcage…

"I… I hope it works. The safe word thing," she said. Sokka nodded.

"Me too."

It was a simple confession… but it was a good start.

Azula released a breath, leaning closer to Sokka by instinct. He did the same, so her brow would rest against his.

"I… don't know why I'm like this. I wish I weren't," she admitted, surprising him… but he kept his silence, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. "It's like… we could've had it all if I weren't such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Sokka said, softly. Azula gritted her teeth and sighed.

"It's hard to believe you… but I'll try," she said, trembling lightly.

They settled into silence briefly, still sitting together by the foot of the bed. Nothing seemed to happen… no harm came to either of them for what they'd said. No one had laughed, no one had judged… nothing had happened. It was a strange realization, perhaps akin to what children felt when they finally understood there were no monsters hiding under their bed… Azula shuddered at the thought.

"This is… weird. Nice, but weird," she said. Sokka nodded. "I… don't like being vulnerable. I'm not used to it. Guess maybe… that's the crux of the matter."

"It could be," Sokka agreed.

"What about you?" Azula asked. "How… how do you feel?"

"I'm scared," Sokka admitted. Azula winced lightly upon hearing those words. "Worried that… that this idea might not work and that I'll have to try to figure out some other way to communicate when we need to. But I'm… I'm worried I might fail at coming up with something else, too."

"This isn't failing so far," Azula said. Sokka smiled a little.

"I'm glad," he said. "But I'm still nervous."

"Me too."

They didn't meet each other's eyes as they spoke, their words spoken in intimate whispers conveyed so closely, as though they feared someone might overhear even if they were alone, isolated from the rest of the world right where they sat. Still… it was the most open they had ever felt. The most earnest they had ever been.

"I'm not sure how to get us started with…" Sokka said, swallowing hard. "With what you dared me to do. I really think I'm going to do or say something that won't sit well with you…"

"Like… what?" Azula asked. Sokka shrugged.

"Maybe… touching something I've never touched before and that you've never said I'm allowed to touch?" he said. "Or saying something too sentimental and…"

"Do you really feel… overly sentimental things about me?" Azula asked. "Maybe… you're as embarrassed about that as I am."

"Am I?" Sokka blinked blankly. "Huh… maybe? I mean, technically… you've been part of my life for so long that I can't help but be too sentimental, honestly. You were my first friend… my first rival, too, considering you stole that ball and…"

"And we were sworn enemies in preschool because of that," Azula smiled. Sokka smiled back.

"Then you were my first kiss… and without my full realization of it at the time, you were my first crush, for sure," he said, softly. Azula shivered. "And now… my first time will be with you, too. But I guess… the sentimental thing I wanted to say is that, even if you hadn't been my first in all those things, you… you'd be the one that mattered. The one that changed my world. The one I'd never want to let go. And… I just went and said it anyway, see? So… guess I'm about to find out if I'd displease you with my sentimentality, heh."

He dared glance at her… to find her eyes swarmed with tears anew. He felt an impulsive urge to comfort her, to take back any words that could have led her to cry… but he couldn't do it. Not right now. Not when that exteriorization of emotion, too, was one to be cherished and respected for everything it was.

He waited as she composed herself. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, shaking her head, whether at his words or at her own emotional reaction, Sokka didn't know…

"I-is it… cheap to just say that I… I feel that way too?" she said, her voice charged with tears. "I…"

"It's not. You can say whatever you want to say right now," Sokka whispered, raising his head to press a kiss to her brow.

"I…" she said, shivering. "I…"

Whatever she wanted to say now, it seemed she couldn't formulate it yet. Tears threatened to spill again, and she seemed moments away from losing her patience at her own crying…

"Ugh, I…! I hate it when people cry!" Azula exclaimed. "It makes me uncomfortable… probably because I can't handle my own feelings, damn it. Because I don't know how to manage them, h-how to not react explosively to things…! It's so much easier to just… shut the door and pretend nothing affects me. Because when it does, I… I become like this. I don't know how to… how to still be me if I'm crying like an idiot, and I hate it when other people cry…"

"You're not an idiot… no one is for crying," Sokka whispered. "Frankly, nobody with sense likes crying, I'd say. It usually means something isn't right… something needs to be fixed. And it hurts, and it scares you, and it feels wrong in all the worst ways. So… it's fine to hate crying. It doesn't mean you can reject it forever, though… we all need to do it sometimes."

"And the more I refuse to cry, t-the more it will threaten to consume me when I do?" Azula said, breathing out slowly. "I mean, I suppose that's what people say about… about bottling up rage, too? So…"

"It's true for every emotion, I'd assume," Sokka said, rubbing her hands gently again.

"So I should just… stop holding it in? Even if I hate it?" Azula said, sniffing softly. Sokka shrugged.

"You're the one who'll make that choice."

"Do you do it? Crying…?" she asked. Sokka smiled.

"Not as often as I should, either," he said. "We're both a little stubborn about that, sounds like."

"Well… I suppose you understand, then," Azula said, brushing the underside of her nose with a hand before letting out a soft laugh. "Fuck. What a mood for our first time, isn't it?"

"I'd rather we're completely honest with each other on our first time than… well, I don't know, than having some kind of cinematographic sex scene like in movies or TV shows," Sokka said. "I mean… there's too much baggage here for us to treat it that way. We've been together for a while... and I want to think we will stay together for much longer, too. That is... as long as you want us to."

"I want us to," Azula said, softly.

"So… if I asked you to be my girlfriend, would you…?"

She nearly broke the spell of their safe word right then and there, and Sokka smiled at the grimace upon her face. He let out a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to her brow.

"My partner?" he asked. Azula sighed.

"Sounds… better, I suppose. I'm sorry, I just… can't take 'girlfriend' and 'boyfriend' seriously. It sounds so… childish, I suppose."

"Okay. We don't have to use that," Sokka said. "But I guess something like 'lover' doesn't really… yeah, well, now you're blushing."

"That one just… it always sounds like it's connected to sex, I suppose," Azula said, rubbing her cheeks bashfully as if that would make the blood relocate elsewhere – when it would likely only make the redness worse instead.

"Fair," Sokka said. "Then… dating. Does it sound weird to say we're dating?"

"Well… maybe not," Azula conceded.

"I could get you an engagement ring, if you want," Sokka smiled. "Then you'd be able to call me your fiancé instead. Maybe that's better than boyfriend?"

"Well… it's somewhat pretentious," Azula said, though she certainly didn't seem to dislike it that badly. Sokka smiled.

"Does the meaning of it feel right, though? Because if it does… does it mean you'd marry me?"

"I…"

Azula froze. The comforting contact between their foreheads ceased as she raised her head to look at him in utmost confusion. His heartfelt, hopeful smile made her heart race even faster… and she couldn't even take back her words. She didn't want to. For once, it didn't matter if it was embarrassing… she didn't want to.

"Am I being too forward, delusional, or…?" he asked, at the sight of that apprehensive expression on her face… but Azula swallowed hard and shook her head.

"Y-you're… not. I… I would probably just… react like an idiot if you asked. Because that's what I always do, but I… I'd like it if you did. I think. I… I wouldn't hate it. I… I wouldn't mind at all, I guess."

"Huh… okay," Sokka smiled, caressing her knuckles gently. "So… how does 'wife' sound to you, then? 'Husband'?"

Her lips parted as she glanced at him again. He smiled a little, offering her a weak shrug.

"I mean, if we went through it, that's what we'd be, so…" he said. "Awful too? Too old, too adult, too…"

"It'd work."

It was Sokka's turn to be utterly flustered when Azula's words took him by surprise. She shivered as their eyes met again, and her hands gripped his even more tightly… but as awkward as it might be to speak, no matter if under the protection of their 'boomerang', she had dared do so all the same.

"I… I think I could do that. Being… your wife. It sounds… a lot better than girlfriend," she said…

And she even managed a small smile. Sokka's eyes widened.

"So… you'd do it?" he asked. "We'd… get married. I mean, it doesn't have to happen soon, but… but that's how you feel? You… you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

Azula made a face – again, it seemed their safe word kept her from saying something she really shouldn't have, so she held herself back and focused again, breathing deeply to convey her thoughts one more time.

"I… never have imagined a future where I wouldn't."

Sokka almost yelped. He covered his mouth with a hand… and it was his turn now to feel his eyes flooding with tears. Azula smiled, perhaps amused to see him being no better than her, in that respect…

"S-see, I don't exteriorize my feelings often either, so I guess that's why I'm… I'm being too emotional now," Sokka said, with a light laugh as he brushed his tears away. "I… I don't know why I never imagined you'd… w-why I always thought you'd just find some better guy and I'd just have to… t-to be the best man at your wedding or something, I don't even know…"

"You even imagined my wedding to someone else?" Azula asked, amused. "Oh, that's enough. 'Boomerang'."

"Oops…"

"Sokka, that's ridiculous," Azula blurted out, chuckling and throwing her head back as she processed his words. "Giving me away at my wedding…! How did you not imagine our wedding instead? You're not trying to say you fantasized with…!"

"Wasn't a fantasy, more like a nightmare!" Sokka squeaked, wiping his tears… though he was infected by her laughter anyway. "I did try to imagine ours, okay, b-but then I just thought that…!"

"That I'd reach the altar and when the officiant asked if I wanted to be your lawful, wedded wife, I'd just say 'that's embarrassing' and everything would fall to pieces?" Azula asked, smiling weakly… though the grin waned quickly. "Though…"

"Wait. No. Don't say you'd actually do that…!" Sokka squealed. Azula grimaced, cheeks flooding with color. "Saying 'I do' isn't that hard! It's even shorter than saying 'that's embarrassing'! Come on, Azula!"

"It's not about how long or short it is, it's just… ugh, we'll need to work through this nonsense so much more than we already have before I'm ready for a proper wedding ceremony. But at least now you know I'm not against it, okay? And I… I would marry you. I would."

"You would," Sokka said, though he eyed her warily: "Though that doesn't mean we're engaged yet because 'I would' implies I have to ask, and that you'll say yes when I do, but that I haven't really done it yet…"

"Sokka…" Azula raised an eyebrow as he stared at her intensely.

"Azula: will you marry me?"

She froze up, and he didn't lose hope even so. It took her a lot of work to speak properly now that the magic of their safe word was gone… but after a soft sigh, and while refusing to hold his gaze, she finally whispered.

"Yes."

An unusual happy gasp left Sokka's lips. Azula raised an eyebrow at the sound as he smiled brightly at her, and her pride flared up again, as it always did… before he let out a relieved laugh, dropping heavily on the mattress, arms outstretched.

"Okay. Okay, that's… that's better," he chuckled. "Though… I suppose it's not completely official yet, not until I get a ring, but I can try to get one! And, uh, maybe I could propose again with all the grandeur that people usually…"

"I would hate it if you did, so don't," Azula said. Sokka pouted. "What? Big, public, pretentious proposals have always made me roll my eyes. It feels like the people planning those are more obsessed with being flashy and showing off their love in public than… well, actually loving the person they're with."

"Huh… well, that is true," Sokka conceded. "And to be fair, I never imagined you'd agree to marry me, so I never imagined what I'd do for a big proposal…"

"You don't have to," Azula said, breathing deeply as she stretched across the bed too, landing with her head upon his arm. "We can… go to a jewelry place together, if you really want us to get a ring. Easier if we get it together so we can be sure it fits, right?"

"Huh… very practical and reasonable," Sokka smiled. "Besides, that way you get to choose whatever design you like and I don't get to fuck up by choosing something you hate."

"Exactly. Though your taste in those things doesn't tend to be tacky, but still… safer this way," Azula said.

She rolled in the mattress, winding up closer to him than before: cuddling wasn't new territory for them, and after all their confessions from moments ago, it was even a comforting necessity for them. The realization brought Sokka to smile, sliding his fingers through her hair.

"Maybe the safe word is more accurate than what I thought it was," he said. Azula raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"That… after people who are into BDSM go wild and do whatever they do, it seems they have what they call, uh, aftercare?" Sokka smiled. "We just went on a bend of emotional BDSM, looks like."

"Oh, did we, now?" Azula smiled a little. "Guess that's one way to look at it."

"And now this is our aftercare," Sokka said: his arm locked around Azula as he rolled on his side, so he'd wind up embracing her fully.

Azula nodded, face buried in the comfort of his chest. His lips pressed reassuringly to the top of her head, and a strange feeling seemed to rush through her body as they did…

It wasn't as though she'd never felt safe with Sokka. She certainly felt safer with him than with anyone else. She never had anything to fear with him… for even if he did joke around too much, and she'd be the first to admit it, she liked that about him. She liked more than just that about him, of course… perhaps there wasn't really anything about him that she didn't like.

Which meant that her feelings were certainly much deeper than simply 'liking' him.

She smiled into his chest: maybe she'd be able to say the words eventually, at this rate. Even without the safe word, it seemed that nothing could possibly dampen the moment, nothing could weaken her certainties…

And those certainties compelled her to raise her head, and to join their lips in a warm kiss.

Sokka's arms tightened around her: as ever, it was so much easier to convey their feelings this way than by doing it through words. Her hands cupped his face, keeping him in place as their exchanges deepened… as their bodies rolled together, as words faltered in the face of the emotions they exteriorized in deeply different ways.

Her hand slid under his shirt, tugging it off his body slowly as he climbed atop her. He did the same with her clothes, and she tucked her belly in instinctively, her head thrown back as his lips kissed her sensitive neck. Her legs trapped him in place briefly so her hands could caress his muscular body, product of so many years of constant exercise. His fingers raised her shirt higher still, and the fabric rode up over her body, gradually exposing her to him…

He hesitated only briefly before touching her breasts: Azula ensured it was a brief pause by clasping his hands and pressing them promptly against her chest. His face flushed, but his attempt to apologize for nearly faltering got lost somewhere in the deep kiss she offered him: he kneaded her breasts slowly then, and Azula sighed in delight for it into Sokka's eager lips.

Everything felt right: the slow stripping of each other's bodies, the inexperienced yet successfully arousing caresses, the deepening, thorough kisses. Her sports bra saw to it that he wouldn't even need to worry about undoing a clasp by the time he was ready to remove it, and they acquainted themselves more thoroughly with each other's upper body first, taking as much time as needed to adjust to the intimacy they were accessing together now.

Their hands only dove lower once their hesitation revealed they had the same idea in mind: mutual laughter, followed by more kissing, preceded their newest endeavors. Curiosity and excitement led the way, as each slid a hand into the others' underwear, exploring what had been utterly forbidden territory so far. Little by little, their touch gained more confidence as their curiosity found new purpose… and they kissed fiercely, deeply, as their fingers prodded and rubbed each other's depths, gasps and light moans spilling from their lips as the mounting excitement strengthened further.

Their first releases saw them relaxing in bed for a moment before their sensual exchanges began once more, revamped and strengthened over a first successful climax – though Sokka had been quite perplexed by Azula's, repeatedly asking if she seriously had experienced an orgasm, for he had heard far too many horror stories regarding incompetent men in bed. She had laughed off his concerns… and she had taken his manhood into her palm a second time, pumping it gently to stir him back into a full erection.

She hugged him tightly when he entered her: her rushing excitement saw to it that she wouldn't be as overwhelmed by the new sensation as she could have been. He took his time for her sake, slowing down whenever he felt her tensing up, kissing her reassuringly as she nestled in his arms. Their gradual acquaintance with this level of intimacy compelled them to be as slow as possible, to make certain that they would understand their needs, as well as the other's, as best as could be.

Their hearts raced as their bodies adapted to the excitement, to the thrills rushing across their systems in the mounting arousal that eventually found its peak in Sokka first, in Azula shortly afterwards – he didn't stop until she had attained her own climax, and his determination to do so brought a genuine smile to her face. In other circumstances, that smile would have likely been accompanied by teasing words… but not right now. Not tonight.

They lounged in bed after it ended, still locked in a tight embrace, still exchanging tender kisses as the heat smoothed over their sweaty bodies. But where their kisses had usually been so difficult to gauge, where it had always been clear to Sokka that Azula enjoyed the physical sensation of them, he finally grasped her feelings through each exchange, too. Yet she didn't settle for kisses only, when it came to conveying them…

"Boomerang," she blurted out. Sokka pressed another kiss to her lips.

"Okay," he smiled: the typical insecurities that permeated him didn't even have time to rear their heads, to convince him that she might say something devastating… for she spoke her mind too quickly for them to do so:

"I love you."

Yet again, her words rendered him breathless. His arms tensed around her… and his lips curled into a blissful smile moments afterwards. Azula smiled slightly, too…

She didn't get a response for her confession yet, for Sokka's mouth was far too busy kissing hers for him to admit he felt the same way just yet.

After another round of earnest lovemaking, one in which the shield of their safe word would last until the very final thrust, he finally found the strength in him to speak anew. His genuine blue gaze bore into her own eyes as he hugged her tightly, as she straddled his hips this time, her hair falling as curtains at either side of her face…

"I love you, too."

Azula smiled, hiding her face away from him briefly, even if his hands caressed her hair still…

"Boomerang?" she said, again. Sokka nodded, and she finally dared look at him again, still smiling fondly at him. "That's… that's embarrassing."

Whether she meant it or not, whether she was joking or not, Sokka couldn't hold back a spree of laughter of his own. She collapsed on his chest, and they laughed the rest of the night away, completely enraptured with each other in the blissful, safe space they had finally built together… a place where jokes and judgment were no longer a problem: they knew at last that they had nothing to fear, for they finally understood and accepted the feelings that dwelled in each other's hearts.

#sokkla #sokka #azula #sokkla saturdays 2022 #sokklasaturdays #modern au #I always wanted to write them into a setting like this one #first time I finally dared #I hope this is good #very fluff #very feelsy #very dorky

[kessabit]

On Feelings

Another deeply personal post that should be ignored, as it is basically just the best I got for therapy right now.

I do not have a healthy relationship with my emotions. I am manic-depressive; or that is the best way that I can describe the patterns of volatile emotional changes I experience when not medicated. I was never given much training on how to express or interpret or think about my emotions. I was raised and socialized as a white man, in a conservative household. I've seen my father cry once, and that was at his dad's funeral. And even that was silent.

So I didn't have the upbrining to handle things well. Then add to this mess the chemical inability to maintain a mood properly. Thoughts death-spiral at the slightest provocation. Your skin is thin, and you're overly sensitive to people's actions and words.

Even my coping mechanisms aren't that good. Did you notice the change from I to you? I can't stand these emotions being mine, so I try to distance myself. A habit I remember very vividly and deliberately working to enforce in myself at the age of 12. I got it in my head that people liked the quiet, reserved kid who felt and showed no emotion, and would hurt myself if I felt anything while talking to people. Happiness pinched away, anger swallowed down, sadness relegated to the depths of the night where I could pretend I didn't stream hot tears down my face. A stupid decision in hindsight. I doubt I could have made a different one though.

I am, by force of the intertwined systems of private, for-profit insurance and the crushing gears of capitalism, off of my medication right now. Really, I've been off it for months, but the last of my pills ran out last week. They are mood stabilizers. They work, in the technical sense. My mood is stable. But my experience of life is so fucking flattened on them. The irony of living in a self-imposed state of emotionlessness is not lost. I miss feeling joy. I miss being excited. I've spent six years trying to recalibrate what emotions match to what. But it feels like one of those data charts where a percentage on several axes is given, but none of the data points gets above 20%. I can tell someone I'm excited to do something, but it feels like a lie. My heart didn't skip a beat, my mind isn't racing, I don't lose sleep, I don't express or emote anything beyond words.

It might be why I don't have any friends in person. It's easy to fake it with text. Emoticons and emojiis make forcing tone so easy and so convincing. I can't do that in person. It's easy to see through it. Or take everything as sarcasm or seriousness. Because I know now that being the quiet, reserved person is not treated positively by society at large. You're a bitch. You're cold-hearted. You're emotionless. You're a robot. But it's all I have to give. I know it wasn't enough.

I'm afraid of my emotions now. I know it's okay to cry, but I still hate it. I know it's okay to not always be happy, but I resent every day I spend wallowing in despair. I know it's okay to break down, but I can't let myself.

This got away from me a bit. My sinuses are cleared a bit from crying. I wish I weren't so internally crippled the way I am. I wish I could communicate to someone in a healthy manner. I wish I could express my emotions in a positive and safe way. I'm sorry to everyone I will hurt.

[scover-va]

do you have any irving hcs?

*gently lifts my totally coherent and real list of hcs* yes Warning that this gets VERY long bc I put on my Irving playlist halfway through and my brain went into half ramble mode half many thoughts mode. I also just have so many thoughts on Irving

Starting off by once again promoting my 'Irving has a brother and sister' hc

Irving handles character correction/role assignments (and also would be the brawns/strength in the trio, working mostly with the Combat Arena X folks but just overall anything Lionel related). His brother (Sterling) handles punishments (got lazy with sol and just handed that off to Irving) and uses magic (he's the beauty of the trio by default. The charismatic one) and then his sister (Eleanor) handles all the logistics/diagnostics/bug fixes and doesn't properly work with game characters, though has files on all Gmaeworks-owned/associated characters (she's the brain of the trio) [sectioned off from the others so this is easier to read]

Gay and homophobic

No one gets rights but him. He's the only gay person allowed.

Before the "Lionel wants this" incident, Reggie was adamently trying to befriend Irving. It never worked, Irving never cared for him. At fucking all

Irving, watching Bryce train: Haha I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me

It did

I'm sorry, but him getting super excited and then just going "*clears throat* I mean good. Anyways so-" feels so fucking gay to me. You cant convince me otherwise idc how much he likes violence. That was AT LEAST a teeny bit gay. Fruity, even.

Was constantly 5 seconds away from fucking killing someone in the Combat Arena X cast. He may like fighting, but he's very happy Lionel ended up selling the franchise, he can't deal with ANY of those idiots again

Doesn't honestly understand why he's so devoted to keeping Lionel happy and alive. As far as he's aware, nothing happened, and he doesn't think of Lionel as anything more than one of his bosses, so he doesn't get it

Ik the original line from Catarina was about Jeremiah, but the line "An unswerving loyalty to his master. Must be hard-coded." also makes me think of Irving with Lionel. Like,,,everything Irving does is for Lionel in some way. He punishes the characters that destroy Lionel's career, even killing other characters to make it happen. He 'gets rid of' Reggie. He warns him of the stolen artifact. There's gotta be SOMETHING going on

Is. Somehow not aware his other boss (Lou) is the devil. It just. hasn't clicked for him.

Was recreated/revived after The Hex's finale by Lou, though he now adamantly avoids the Six Pint Inn.

On that note, doesn't understand how trauma/mental illness works

"Yeah my uneasiness about going back to the inn is just me being careful, considering what happened last time. Nothing more."

The thought of it makes him spiral a little. Sir please look up what a panic attack is im BEGGING you. Same with mentioning going there. ;)

Also his dead body is still very much so buried behind the inn. So, technically he's just,,,a remade version?? The sequel. Irving part 2 electric boogaloo. Same personality and memories, though. So, nothing changed, he just has trauma now

Overlooked the work done on Inscryption when he wasn't helping Lionel. Was overworked, but never really,,,noticed it was happening. He just noticed he was extra tired and then never acknowledged it again

Was sent to solely overlook the development of Inscryption once Lionel was dead. Wasn't given much time to move on

At this point, all the basic coding had been done, as work on Inscryption (or at least Kaycee helping develop it) had started at some point at the same time as Waste World's development in my hcs. I'll write up a proper timeline for my hcs eventually. But yeah, he was just sent to watch over the characters and make sure they all stayed in line

Here's the link to all my Irving + Trader hcs bc im not relisting them all

His cruelty and devotion (to Lionel, obv) were coded into his AI by Lou. It wasn't Lou's first time fucking around with programs after all, and fucking around with something that was purely an ai was much easier than something that was once alive

The devotion was coded in during Lionel's time making games for Gamefuna, so at some point during Combat Arena X or Secrets of Legendaria. The incident with Reggie was purely cruelty based, and was Irving twisting Lionel's words to fit his own goals

This was kicked into high gear shortly after SoL's failure

Constantly struggling with Sado. She's both exactly like him and the exact opposite to him at the same time. They're both sadistic, sentient programs that don't care for the lives they endanger. But while Irving strives to protect Lionel, Sado strives to destroy him, whatever that may entail.

Was unfortunately busy with Inscryption due to Lionel's lack of progress when Sado invaded Waste World, and was in all unable to stop the damage that happened with that game. Found out about it shortly after the damage had already been done, and sought to capture Sado, no matter what.

Obviously, though, she got freed. That mixed with the stolen artifact just stressed him the fuck out, but protecting Lionel had to come before dealing with his own stress, even if that inevitably became his downfall

His devotion was actually coded in by Lou bc Lou kinda realized after making a deal with Carla that he was putting Lionel's life in danger, and. Well. *Looks at my Lou and Barry pre-canon hcs*

Taking a less pre-canon dependent approach, his devotion could honestly just also be that Lionel's one of the very few that are earning Gamefuna money, even if Gamefuna's games suck. So, if Lionel dies, they lose one of their best programmers.

Either way, Irving's devoted to Lionel purely because Lou wants him to be

I could honestly write a whole ANALYSIS on Irving's character, so. Take it in loose hc format instead. Maybe one day I'll write a proper analysis on him. One day

#the hex #the hex game #the hex irving #scov.txt #ty anon!! ive been waiting to get some thoughts down abt him since writing The Gameworks Assistant #really wish the read more thing would stop fUCKING MOVING-