#zuko really fumbled with this one

[multivstx]

zutara being zutara

[changbunnies]

Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol

♡ Word Count: 11.2k

♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.

♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)

♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv

♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.

You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on. 

The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.

You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.

But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.

He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.

Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.

You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.

He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder. 

Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat. 

He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.

You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.

He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.

You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.

He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.

And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.

He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room. 

Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)

Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.

Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.

“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.

He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.

In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist. 

His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.

Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.

He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.

You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.

Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.

He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.

Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit. 

Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom. 

He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.

You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.

The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.

The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.

The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.

You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.

They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.

You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.

And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.

Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.

“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”

“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?

“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.

His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.

His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real. 

“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.

It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better. 

“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.

He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”

You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”

“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”

Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.

“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.

Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.

But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.

The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.

And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.

Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck. 

“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.

He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.

It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.

“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.

Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.

He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.

He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.

“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”

“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.

“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.

At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.

“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?

You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.

He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.

Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.

You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse. 

And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.

You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.

The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.

He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.

And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.

Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.

He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.

Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.

“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.

“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this. 

“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”

He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.

It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.

“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.

But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?

Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.

There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.

“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.

“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.

“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.

“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.

“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.

“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.

There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up. 

He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.

And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.

All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.

You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.

He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you. 

Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.

Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.

He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.

He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.

And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.

He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?

Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips. 

Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.

You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.

When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.

Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to. 

Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.

“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.

“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.

Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.

“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”

“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.

“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.

“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see. 

Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.

“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.

The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.

“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.

Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?

Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.

He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.

Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.

He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.

“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.

Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.

“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.

“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.

When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.

You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.

“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.” 

Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.

You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.

He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.

He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.

“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole. 

He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.

Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.

Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.

“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.

It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.

It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.

You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.

You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”

It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.

“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.

He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him. 

The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.

Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.

“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.

“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”

Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.

You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.

It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.

You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.

He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.

“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.

Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.

He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”

“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

[singswan-springswan]

ficlet under the cut

The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.

It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.

"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"

Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.

The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.

He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.

"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.

Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.

"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.

Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.

"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"

The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.

Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.

A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."

"Sure, sure."

The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.

Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.

The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.

"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.

“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”

There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased. 

“There’s a scar.”

“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”

Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.

The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.

Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”

Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Ten-thousand.”

Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.

“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.

“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Zaheera will see you out.”

The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.

The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.

But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.

“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”

“Get out.”

The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.

After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.

There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.

“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”

The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone. 

He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.

<~><><~>

Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.

The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.

Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.

But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.

In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.

He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems. 

Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching. 

He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.

When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.

“Hello.”

Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.

To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face. 

“Wait!” The man yelped.

But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.

There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”

The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun. 

How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—

“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.

Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.

“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”

“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer. 

“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”

What.

Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things. 

When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”

“What?”

What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?

“You were always more civil with it around.”

Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.

“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.

For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.

What.

A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.

“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”

Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.

“What—but—you understand me?”

“Of course.”

“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.

“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”

“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.

But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.

“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.

But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko. 

He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.

Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.

“Lu Ten?”

He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”

Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.

“How did you get that scar?”

“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”

The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

[jesncin]

Okay, I'll bite, what are your feelings on the trans conner pitch?

Oh boy! Thank you for tossing me this bone because I have a lot of mixed feelings!

I notice that people online are very hot and cold about the Trans Superboy Pitch, they either love it or hate it and that doesn't leave a lot of room for nuance + discussion. So to be respectful to a fellow trans peer in the industry, I want to do a fair review/analysis of Skyrocket: the trans Conner Kent pitch by Magdalene Visaggio.

My general takeaway from the pitch is that I like the premise, but the details fumble the execution for me. I can really feel from reading the pitch that Visaggio cares about Superboy. She understands that he's a very weird legacy character who has struggled to find proper footing in the DC Universe after all these years. An effective legacy character is one who is able to spin off and expand upon the themes of the character whose mantle they carry. But the cheesy whatever-goes 90's-ness of Superboy's original run didn't give future writers a lot to work with in terms of a Superman Legacy Character.

It's why I genuinely believe the later retcon reveal that -part of Conner's DNA is from Lex Luthor- is a fantastic addition to his character. It takes a character who was just kind of screwing off to gentrify Hawaii back into the center of Superman's good vs evil conflict. But now Conner's problem is that his story is too tied to his origin and Superman's shadow. Placing Conner with the Kents in Smallville afterwards made him narratively redundant. What's next for him?

So let's dig into the pitch!

I like what's at the heart of this pitch. It's a very season-3-ATLA-Zuko "honor wasn't all it's cracked up to be" arc and I think that suits Conner's character really well! It's the details I have gripes with:

"Conner has been largely relegated to the Jason Todd of the Superfamily" oof, haha that's not a particularly fair characterization.

The constant comparing of Superman to Christian imagery. He's described as basically "Jesus goddamn Christ" in the pitch. The Tyrannical Kryptonians are named Saint, Shepherd and Savior. No surprise I don't like seeing a character who allegorically represented Jewish immigrants to be constantly compared to Christian imagery and deified.

It's inevitable with pitching to the company, but the pitch is bogged down by a lot of convoluted plot points. I get that it's necessary to pitch event tie-ins and universe hopping shenanigans, but it's a lot.

Leland feels like a plot device in this. I'm sure there were plans to flesh out the brotherly clone relationship between him and Conner so that he can feel like his own character, but from the summary he just kind of revolves around Conner the way the pitch describes Conner revolving around Superman. Oops!

Conner's relation to Luthor and Superman works as a story about legacy, bloodlines and the things parents pass down to their kids. It's best when handled thematically and not literally because it's easy to get into essentialist "good genes" vs "evil genes" near-eugenics talking points. Unfortunately this pitch has a lot of that vibe. Leland has more Lex genes so he's super smart. Conner and Leland are able to start a schism in the Future Tyrannical Kryptonian House by "proving their truer genetic link to the original Superman, unsullied by thousands of years of tinkering" thereby gaining allies. Not great!

The part where Conner wants to find "his own Metropolis" by moving to Dripping Springs, Texas. That's Jinny Hex's field of operations, so is it really his own space? I would've just given Conner a new town so he can better stand on his own and build out a unique cast system.

Okay let's talk about the trans stuff!

I get that it makes for an Iconic Visual Superhero Moment, but I really don't like the part where Conner steps through a magical crystal and pops out the other side as a trans woman. It robs her of having that discovery on her own. The pitch says "I believe that this is as natural a move as Iceman's coming out". And just?? Man, remember when Jean Grey read Iceman Bobby Drake's mind and robbed him of his agency by outing him through that invasion of privacy? For a pitch all about Conner's journey of defining herself, it weirdly robbed her of that moment.

The pitch does such a good job talking about how Conner feels like her whole life revolves around Superman and how pointless wanting to be Superman feels now that Jon Kent has taken the mantle. She has Clark's genes, goes to Clark's hometown school, is raised by Clark's parents and all that. So then why is she eventually named after the women in Clark's life? Constance "Connie" Lara Kent. Clark's Kryptonian mom and human grandma? Was the world so small that she could not name herself after anyone else or come up with a new name? Connie doesn't even get to name herself, her new name is one Martha Kent bestows her with. It's hypocritical, and doesn't have the same impact that Superman giving Superboy a Kryptonian name does.

Speaking of which, this right here is my biggest gripe. It's not in the pitch itself but?? Wait- why go on about how Conner deserves a name that's not given to her and then turn around and make Martha name her? Sure, Connie comes up with the superhero name "Skyrocket" herself but surely she also deserves to name herself considering the thesis the pitch built up about self discovery and agency right?

Also with all due respect, this is the whitest queer take on Conner's identity. I wish white trans people could understand that you can have multiple true names that reflect different parts of you.

When Clark gives Superboy the name "Kon-El" it matters that it's given. It ties so well to the idea of familial acceptance into a nearly-extinct culture. You wouldn't know how to reclaim that part of your identity when that culture's been wiped out, so of course it's an honor to be trusted with a name that preserves Krypton's culture. This is a common practice with diaspora reclaiming cultural names from closed cultures, they are gifted their names by someone more culturally connected. I think the pitch having Martha name Connie is trying to echo this, but it doesn't hit the same without that cultural context. It also undercuts the genuine joy Conner felt from finally having a name he truly identifies with. Conner was only ever referred to as Superboy before then. When Clark gives him the name Kon El, Conner cries out that Kon El is his "real name". It's one of his defining moments, and to have that be diminished by saying "It's still a name someone else gave him" is so disappointing.

Then there's the design.

This is gonna lean more into preference, but I'm not the biggest fan of this design! I get what it's going for but it has too much going on everywhere. It also doesn't have that proto-punk look original Conner had, so it ends up not feeling like him. It's too superhero, and not enough casual-wear-on-a-supersuit that Conner sports really well. I see how it fits in with the everyone-in-Superfam-is-wearing-jackets-era, but I also think those new designs don't look good either. Especially Supergirl's. I feel like Conner should be more punk post transition. No respectability beam for her!

Also the name Skyrocket? It's giving knock off-brand toy vibes to me I'm sorry D: People on twidder suggested Supernova and that sounds way better! Even Visaggio stated she prefers that name so you can't be mad at me for this.

Overall big conclusion feelings!

I've been following Visaggio's work for a while because it's awesome seeing trans people getting picked up in comics. While there are some things about her writing I like, for the most part I've felt like her work isn't my cup of tea. I tried reading up a bunch of interviews she's in to try to understand why her writing wasn't clicking with me, and what I discovered is that we have fundamentally different approaches to queer storytelling.

From Paste Magazine. I get where she's coming from, trans characters deserve to have multi-faceted narratives that don't overly center how they're othered at the expense of further characterization. But also? I just actually find the interior lives of queer people and identity interesting. I like writing the kind of escapism and joy that's informed by surviving and inheriting hardships rather than erasing those things or skipping past it. I think this is why Connie is robbed of her trans discovery in the pitch. Why we don't get to watch her grapple with gender identity in a political way. Queer stories about queer struggles are considered archaic and unnecessary nowadays. It's part of the escapism Visaggio values in her work; to give a place of respite for trans readers from the cruelty they experience in reality, but I don't connect to stories like that personally. Whenever I try to share queer Indonesian art and writing with my peers, I'm often told it's too painful to look at. That our pain doesn't fit the modern expectation for happy, empowering queer stories. "trans people get enough hardships in real life, they don't need that in their fiction" Visaggio still talks about her newest projects like this btw.

I'd love to see a take on Conner that more holistically continues the political immigrant themes of Superman. The white parts of fandom love interpreting Conner's identity crisis as primarily a queer struggle, but it's also one of a person grappling with his mixed heritage. He's a diaspora kid separated by a generation away from Krypton. He has yet to make peace with the Luthor side of his identity, one borne of generational trauma and resentment for one's roots. Instead of a take where his queerness separates him from the pressures of legacy, I want to see a Conner take that has themes that are intersectional about his mixed diaspora and queer identity. I want his superficial punk aesthetic to graduate into actual punk ideals. The anti-establishment and radical love philosophies of punk culture would make such a cool extension of Superman themes and it would make so much sense that someone facing so many intersections of marginalization would be radicalized from their experience. I want a queer Conner who isn't just empowering and idealistic, I want one that also gives space for queer readers to feel like their pain is seen too. Conner isn't "Truth, Justice and the American Way" he's famously "Truth, Justice, My Way".

There's a tendency in media criticism to treat marginalized talent as infallible, and I don't think that fair to creatives like Visaggio. Being able to look at their ideas with nuance instead of essentializing it as being Good or Trash is the best way to respect diverse creativity. And my nuanced feelings are that a white queer person who looks at Conner's story and just sees the queer part and dismisses the diaspora mixed heritage side of him,,, is not going to give me the Conner story I want to see.

[azulasmommyissues]

ATLA sexuality headcanons, part 1, Aang's era:

aang

-unlabelled or pansexual, also incredibly gnc. he/they methinks

-he never questioned it, he never thought about it. the air nomads were chill with everything, so he was too.

-he simply loves people, and he loves them deeply. he's the sort of person who says "i love you" very fast. and he doesn't have a specific type, either. he simply connects with people.

-he definitely had a bit of a thing for kuzon back in the day. kuzon taught him all the fire nation dances he knows, and bumi cheered them on.

-he also kinda digged teo, the mechanist's son, but by that point he already had his heart set on katara.

-as for girls, he DID like on-ji. in different circumstances, they would might have dated for a short while. but with katara it was love at first sight. the sort that makes you giddy and stupid.

-he's a lot worse at rizzing up katara because he is just THAT into her and he keeps fumbling

katara

-growing up, she never really questioned it. she knew she definitely liked boys and never had feelings for another girl.

-she's certainly fully cisgender. happily says “she/her/hers” when asked for her pronouns

-on the contrary, she was somewhat attracted to haru and jet both—and might've even considered zuko in different circumstances. like she definitely felt something akin to attraction in the crossroads of destiny.

-she fell in love with aang, because he gave her hope, he gave her joy, he gave her balance. she already felt SOMETHING in the cave of two lovers, but she was deeply confused and her feelings didn't clear until after the war.

-she always thought of herself as straight but said that, if she had the chance, she would be willing to kiss a girl—as an experiment. she just sort of always admired pretty girls, in the sense of "do i wanna BE her or DATE her,"

-and she's really passionate about feminism, obviously

-she always prefers getting compliments from other women because "they're worth mOre"

-eventually she meets jiang who's such a butch lesbian and questions EVERYTHING

-is that a girl? is that a boy? idk but why are they kinda...

-niyok and nutha both give homoerotic friendship vibes with her (all comic specific characters have the combined personality of one person hence why I'm including both)

-since she was dating aang she didn't explore her sexuality, but she discussed it with him and he supported her

-she considered identifying as bi but didn't feel like she qualified, since she'd never actually dated a girl. aang told her it's okay eifher way.

-at the end she decides to keep it all behind closed doors as per water tribe tradition. she's happy with aang, some girls are hot, it's nobody's business but her own.

-i also completely fw the reading of her as a straight cis girl, but you know

sokka

-bisexual, female lean, and maybe even poly.

-he fell for yue, he fell for suki. he definitely found like, ty lee attractive, but he didn't LIKE her. He was involved with suki, and they hadn't had any conversation about the exact status of their relationship so he wasn't about to fumble it.

-suki and him are both bi. and if yue were alive they'd BOTH be dating her. at the same time.

-zuko was sokka's bi awakening. seeing zuko and suki run around in the boiling rock absolutely changed his brain chemistry.

-he had a hard time accepting it, because of how the water tribes roll. he had a preconceived notion of manhood that he obviously had to challenge alongside his initial sexism.

-but then he realised that 1) his dad had been in a secret poly relationship with kya and bato, and then with bato and malina-- 2) his grandma had a fling with hama--3) master piandao and jeong jeongwere a thing--and 4) his girlfriend herself, suki, was bi. so bro had nothing to worry about.

-his identity became clear to him with suki's and his father's help. unlike katara, he was a bit more open and public with it. being poly, him and suki had many opportunities to explore it, always respecting each other's boundaries.

-sometimes suki does his makeup and he grows to enjoy it. he experiments with gender expression until he becomes totally chill with it.

-big part of his character is learning that he doesn't have to be a “man” in the way that patriarchy imposed on him his whole life

-so like, cisn't

toph

-toph has crushes on boys: sokka, zuko, the duke, satoru, sun, kanto. but i think non of them are really legit.

-toph would also flirt with girls, like, yaling

-had a 'not like other girls' phase

-she/they/he vibes, has a very complicated relationship with gender

-because she was made fun off by other girls as a child, it was harder for her to blend in and talk with them

-she was also raised sheltered within the walls of aristocracy which contributed to her not thinking about it

-she avoided commitment and serious relationships like the plague

-so she's unlabelled and perhaps in the aro spectrum. like, demisexual. but being both demi (aka needing to like someone as a person and getting to know them before feeling attracted to them) AND having commitment issues and a bunch of failed relationships is like, a DEADLY combo.

-i don't know. she is chaotic and not at all skilled with romance so she always fumbles it.

-but i also think she might just be 1000% aromantic whether or not she understands it fully

-i think that's very plausible

suki

-bisexual with a female lean and maybe poly

-big she/they vibes

-she's got endless autistic rizz like girl seduced sokka at light speed.

-in kyoshi island they called the bisexuals 'children of kyoshi' and the lesbians 'children of rangi'

-kyoshi island is basically lesbos if you didn't know /hj

-had her first kiss with mingxia before they decided that "ew, never again, i see you like a sister". she was super happy to meet meilin, mingxia's girlfriend

-DEFINITELY liked biyu and they might have been a thing in different circumstances. Aka if biyu hadn't betrayed her.

-would've dated both sokka and yue if yue was alive. like she would have loved yue. both of them having never left their respective homelands. both of them caring about community and having a duty to their people, a leadership position,,,

-but suki being so badass, liberated, free—and yue needing to sacrifice herself to BE free from her oppressive environment,,, like yue would also admire suki so much?? they would love exploring the world together and it'd put sokka out of a very awkward spot-

zuko

-demiromantic, bisexual. like this boy is SOMEWHERE im the ace spectrum but he's also bi. I'd say with a male lean.

-had internalised homophobia growing up, because, duh, fire nation

-he definitely thought that everyone feels like that when he was a child until his mother told him that this was very much NOT the case

-the gaang made him realise that it's totally okay and since they are all so queer he felt very safe with them

-made gay marriage legal in the fire nation

-made pride a thing in the fire nation inspired by the rainbow fire because i said so

-definitely felt attracted to both jet and sokka in the guy department.

-now, when it cames to girls, mai was his childhood crush.

-he definitely found song attractive but he was NOT in that headspace obviously

-same thing with jin although he was in a better headspace then. he introduced jin and song to each other post-war and they dated each other.

yue

-never got the chance to figure out how much girlypop liked women

-i could so easily claim she's a femme lesbian and that sokka was comphet, and I could even CONVINCE ya'll, because he is SO comphet coded, but I really love yue's storyline as it is and the lasting affect it has on sokka,,,,

-i can also imagine her on the ace spectrum

-she's so sapphic she's so queer bro is literally the moON?? what's more sapphic than the moon

-so, whatever, I'll say she's bi with a STRONG female lean. if she'd survived and joined the gaang she would have dated both sokka and suki and i truly believe that

-she would've loved suki and i just KNOW it

-love her so much let my girl be free of her arranged marriage

ty lee

-lesbian or pansexual. was ready to risk it all for mai. also completely down to be in a polycule

-she simply enjoyed male validation and attention due to her unmet childhood emotional needs. the dudes at the beach as well as sokka were giving massive comphet energy.

-i do also accept the possibility of her being pan, that'd be pretty great, but yknow, we do need more lesbians.

-despite being a fire nation citizen i think she'd be pretty open and liberated when it comes to her identity, at least wherever it's safe

-because her own ideology and philosophy is like. pseudo air nomad philosophy so i think she simply doesn't give a shit

-she is really into pride events. she LOVES the parade.

-i think she did have feelings for azula, at least as a child. then it all became really unhealthy,

-still, she felt sad about how things ended with azulw. she genuinely wishes it were different

mai

-she does also give comphet lesbian vibes BUT the "i love zuko more than I fear you" line SLAPS so I'm going to say bisexual with a female lean. she's also definitely asexual—and also demiromantic.

-ADORED ty lee, she just always assumed ty lee would choose azula

-it takes mai a long time to develop feelings for anyone, but when she falls she falls hard

-she's really not a big pride person, but she grows to enjoy it eventually. she goes with zuko and ty lee.

-she's not super vocal about her sexuality, but she also doesn't hide it. she doesn't give a shit. it's her business.

azula

-azula is a lesbian. not debatable like the others, to me.

-her feelings towards ty lee and mai are very reminiscent of sozin's feelings for roku i believe. like iykyk.

-she couldn't remember which of the boys was the one she was supposed to "like," but she remembered perfectly which bikini ty lee and mai were wearing. she picked chan like lesbians pick a random boy to crush on in middle school.

-and then she instesd remembered one of thr gusy who were flirting with either mai or ty lee. bestie was jealous.

-she had comphet, so much comphet. she wanted to be loved.

-so much internalised homophobia.

-she has a type, and it's brunette non benders of similar build. by which i mean ty lee and suki

-the ill will she holds towards mai in her comic for ruining their group over a stUpid BOY-

-it's comical,,

-i love her.

jet

-all the freedom fighters are queer

-jet is probably pansexual or bisexual. and also he/they

-he had a thing for katara but he sure as hell also had a thing for zuko

-he punches homophobes in the face

-i never liked jet when i was a kid because he was a jerk and i hated him with katara, but i grew to really enjoy his character and his arc

-this boy wants to eat the rich

-he doesn't want gay marriage, he wants to abolish marriage

smellerbee

-transfem ICON, she/her, though generally gender non conforming.

-and she's also also aromantic and asexual.

-queer platonic relationship with longshot, because of how deeply they love and understand and support each other

-if you misgender her on purpose the whole group will gang up on you and by the end of it you'll have four broken limbs and they'll be arrested for aggravated assault

longshot

-he's aromantic and asexual but he's got unmatched non-verbal autistic rizz

-as i said, QPR with smellerbee

-but all the freedom fighters plan to keep living together forever,, they're found family

-him and smellerbee just have a particularly special bond

the duke

-the duke is pansexual, i think

-i think he had a crush on toph

-also he/they

-and that's about all I've got

pipsqueak

-he/they/she

-pipsqueak's literally his chosen name, nothing cisgender about that,

-gay

sneers

-transmasc, he/they, potentially genderfluid

-dating kori who is bi

haru

-bisexual, female lean

-he/they, potentially genderfluid

teo

-gay, crush on aang

jin and song

-jin is pansexual, would definitely date song who is a lesbian

-zuko introduces them!!

uncle iroh

-straight ally. women are great! big womaniser back in his day.

-loves gay people

-huge support for zuko coming out

-that being said, he wasn't ALWAYS an ally. like he wasn't homophobic either, but he didn't support queer people before lu ten came out to him. then he accepted it, because he loved his son. finally, travelling the world and studying different philosophies led him to be a great ally.

-then he became the biggest ally ever amd a huge advocate for queer rights

-on a similar note, lu ten was gay. ozai was straight. zhao was straight and azulon was probably also straight. just getting them out of the wAy.

piandao

-gay gay gay. likes men.

-him and jeong jeong as a salty judgmental old couple is so real

-also everyone knows about it but nobody dares to give him shit for it

-he just glares and you immediately get off his back

-he could get himself a husband and nobody in the fire nation would do anything to stop him because they literally cannot arrest him

-he'll just shut the door on their face

jeong jeong

-also gay. big gay.

-tons of internalised homophobia, bless him

-tons of self hatred

-like, the way he sees his firebending as a curse of destruction and hatred and hates himself for it—instead of seeing all the colours of the dragons' rainbow fire, like zuko and aang, who symbolise the new generation

-it can work so well as a queer self-acceptance metaphor

-he definitely ends up with piandao, as i said before. begrudgingly in love.

hama

-lesbian. privately, as per water tribe tradition.

-nobody in the south gives her shit for it.

-she definitely had a relationship with kanna.

-when she lived in the fire nation, things were different. living as her authentic self was impossible—even secretly, it became near-impossible.

-hama's life is one big tragedy.

pakku

-straight. initially homophobic as per water tribe conservatism. the sort of, "just don't shove it in my face" homophobia

-but upon realising that like, both his friend group and his wife are incredibly queer, he gets over it

-iroh helps with educating him

-it's also canon that zuko gives the southern water tribe custody of hama after the war which i find incredibly sweet

-but since hama and kanna were... tight, I find myself incredibly entertained imagining possible interactions between pakku and hama

kanna (gran gran)

-kanna was bisexual.

-in the time she spent traveling from the north to the south she slept with a bunch of people

-fire nation pirates, sand bender bandits, earth kingdom soldiers... hakoda's father is a mystery. a mama mia situation.

-other flings include the herbalist, probably, (all old people know each other)

-even madame wu, why not?

-like it entertains me to think that kanna was unhinged the moment she left the Northern Water Tribe

-and being a non bender she used all tools at her disposal to reach the south if you know what i mean

-that being said, she also learned to fight a bit. probably. just to spite pakku.

-when she reached the south, she had a thing with hama. i say this because of the kataang parallel when hama was taken away.

hakoda and bato

-hakoda is bi, bato is gay

-hakoda loved kya, bato loved him secretly and never told him

-after kya died, bato was his only comfort, they fell in love

-once malina enters the situation too, it eventually ends up being a polycule

-note that i strongly dislike malina and those comics

[transuncletaylor]

Since nude yoga is on my mind, here's an AU: Aang runs a yoga studio that offers all sorts of classes from heated yoga to chair yoga to queer+trans yoga and more.

He's been running a few nude yoga classes along with his partner Katara. Aang runs a men's/masc class, Katara a women's/femme class, and then together on an all genders class. Sokka thinks it's all weird, not the being naked part, the yoga. It's just stretching? People can do that for free at home? It's all a bunch of Aang's cosmic universe magic nonsense to him.

Suki convinces him to attend one of the regular sessions after his 99th complaint about his leg that he doesn't do any of the PT that was recommended to him. She is over it, there's sympathy of course, but my goodness, she can only listen to so much. He grumbles after a few weeks when his leg doesn't cramp as much and maybe Suki and Aang and Katara were kind of right about yoga. Not that he would let any of them know. And when Toph found out he was going, he got teased so bad.

Sokka had to miss his usual session because of work or something, maybe it's a video game release that he cannot miss downloading on the first day. So he decides to go a few days later, which turns out to be one of the nude classes (either men/masc or mixed gender). Suki again convinced him to go and Sokka won't turn down an opportunity to see her naked (even though nude yoga isn't about sex!)

So he goes and finds a spot in the far back corner next to Suki, but that was a bit of a mistake as he can see a lot of people in front of him. Especially the hot guy with golden eyes right in front of him and Sokka can't tell if he's into him, or just really likes those lean muscles and the way that one muscle in his thigh looks during the warrior two pose. Again! Bad Sokka! This is not being totally respectful of others. Suki totally notices and chews him out later about the staring, though the hot guy never noticed and might have been stealing quick glances behind him.

Some time goes by and Sokka keeps to his regular yoga, more so less and less cause there're so many other things that have his attention. There's that deadline at work and he needs to plan a trip back home, it's almost prime hunting season up north. Suki continues to go to the nude yoga class and Sokka will ask if hot guy was there, much to her annoyance cause if he wants to know, he should just join her! Plus he has a name, it's Zuko and he's a sweet but quiet guy.

That work deadline comes up and Sokka is presenting to the board of directors and some strategic partners from other companies. He gets to the conference room feeling a mix of nerves and confidence, he's been going over every minute detail for weeks. Sokka is suited up, freshly shaved, if all goes well then he'll land the largest deal in company history that'll benefit the city. He's going to take Suki to the expensive all you can eat Korean BBQ to celebrate or commiserate later.

Except when he walks into the room, his eyes land on the hot guy, also in a suit. Sokka's throat goes dry and he almost fumbles over his feet as he walks to the head of the table. Hot guy is sitting right here, just a few feet away, fully clothed and spirits, he's so fucking hot and Sokka can't help but think about how he knows what this guy's taint looks like. Zuko doesn't recognize him though, it's been weeks since that class. Suki will have a belly full of laughter at this later over a glass of soju.

Okay, so this is getting long. But Sokka lands his project which means he has to work with Zuko which leads to them both being awkward disasters around each other. Suki, in all her patience and grace, manages to get them into a throuple partnership. And Toph makes fun of them the entire time.

[thepublishingpress]

In The Midnight

It all started when Katara and Aang decided to play match maker.

“Hey, Sokka, why don’t you tell Zuko about your crush?” Aang said teasingly.

“Oh, yes,” Katara agreed, grinning, “We all know about him! At least let Zuko in on the secret.”

Sokka turned bright red. Zuko (aka said object of admiration) tilted his head curiously at Sokka. Oh, no. Absolutely not. “I-I do not have a crush on him!” Sokka instantly denied. “It’s just admiration for a capable fighter!”

Toph smirked. Dread instantly filled Sokka. “Oh, really, Snoozles? Your heart rate says something entirely different…”

“Shut up, Toph!” Sokka shrieked.

“Uh, you know,” Zuko said, “It’s kinda confusing not knowing what’s going on.”

Sokka coughed. “Uh, sorry, Zuko, but we’re talking about… er…” Oh, Yue save him, how is Sokka supposed to say they were talking about Zuko?

Toph rolled her eyes. “Since Sokka won’t say it, I’ll fill it in for him,” She offered. When Zuko nodded, she continued, much to Sokka’s horror. “Who we’re talking about is the Blue Spirit.”

“Who I most definitely do not have a crush on!” Sokka hastily added.

Zuko blinked, his cheeks reddening a little bit. Sokka wanted to scream. “O-oh…” He said. This just made the rest of team’s grins widen. 

Oh, how he regretted ever confiding in them about the Blue Spirit.

“So, Zuko, what do you think? Does Sokka have a shot?” Katara asked him, raising eyebrow. Sokka glared at her.

The Fire Lord glanced away, still blushing. “Well, he can like who he likes, I suppose. It's an… interesting crush…?”

“It's not a crush!” Sokka shrieked, though he definitely noted how Zuko didn't seem too disapproving about Sokka’s admiration (and only admiration!) for him. 

Toph scoffed at Sokka’s weak denial. “Yeah, we totally believe that.”

~×~

Sokka was writing in his diary, bemoaning his predicament to it, when he suddenly flinched from a knock on his window. He slowly stood up and walked over to the curtains.

And when he drew them back, he nearly screamed.

Right there in front of him was a blue mask with white accents, dao blades strapped to his back. Sokka had to proccess for a moment before realizing it was in fact the Blue Spirit.

Also known as Zuko.

Zuko knocked on the window again. Sokka hurriedly opened them, fumbling a little bit in his haste. 

“What are you doing here?” Sokka whispered, confused.

Zuko said nothing, simply extending his hand out to Sokka. Come with me, he seemed to say.

Sokka reached out and clasped his hand with Zuko’s.

~×~

It was exhilarating, jumping on rooftop to rooftop, air gushing against Sokka’s face. Also, he was still in shock that Zuko had got through all the trouble to get up in his costume and mask paired with the dao blades just to get Sokka on a da- NO. Sokka meant a trip. Yeah. Like the Boiling Rock.

“Where are you taking me?” Sokka asked Zuko. Zuko didn’t answer, stubbornly sticking to the “silent” bit of silent warrior, instead using one of his dao blades to point to a rooftop with some glowing lanterns.

Tui and La and all the other spirits, did Zuko set this all up?

Sokka was rather flattered.

Unfortunately, they had to make a big jump to reach it. (Sokka may or may not have yelped a little bit like a kicked seal-puppy.) He tried his best to not cling to Zuko too tightly.

They landed peacefully with a small thud.

Zuko sat down cross-legged on the roof, Sokka following suit. 

It was nice and quiet.

Sokka was feeling a bit more bold at this point. So, reaching his hand out, Sokka placed it on top of Zuko’s.

Zuko’s head turned to face Sokka, and Sokka smiled at him.

“You can talk, you know,” He told Zuko. “Or take off your mask. I know it’s you, Zuko.”

There was silence for a few moments. Sokka’s heart raced, wondering if he’d made the wrong move.

Then, Zuko said, “Okay.” His left hand reached up to take of the Blue Spirit’s mask off. “Have you–” Zuko paused. “Have you always known?”

“When you first tried to join our team,” Sokka said. “Aang told us you were the Blue Spirit.”

“And that– and that doesn't change anything?” Zuko asked in a small voice, as if Zuko being the Blue Spirit would ruin everything for Sokka. 

Cursing Ozai in his head, Sokka immediately said, “Oh, Zuko, it doesn't change anything– except for the fact that it might’ve made me like you more.”

Zuko managed a smile. “I got you to say it.” He said. 

Sokka looked at him questioningly. “Say what?” 

“That you like me.”

Sokka jokingly threw his hands up in defeat. “Curses! Foiled again!”

Zuko laughed. Sokka grinned, glad to be able to make him laugh, but there was one question on his mind and he had to ask it. “Do you like me too?”

Zuko stared and stared. Then he burst out laughing even harder. “I set up all of this for you, dress up as my abandoned persona, and you have the audacity to ask me if I like you?”

Sokka glowed red, but he managed to say, “So… we’re together now?”

Zuko nodded, and that was all the confirmation Sokka needed. 

&*&*&*&

honestly screw ozai i hate him

anyway i hate some of the changes natla made to avatar and it makes me mad just thinking about it and i think ive made my parents think ive gone insane

but do i still want a second season because i want to suffer through the changes just to see toph? yes, absolutely

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Reason season 3 kataang sucks compared to the first two season is cause they got less focus episodes.

All through season 1 and 2 there’s tons of hints and episodes where it’s obvious they’re setting up endgame they have crushes on each other, they care about each other a lot.

Come season 3 and the main focus is the war. They’re’s like three episodes which focuses on them and their feelings and that’s about it til the very end. It makes sense the whole point of the show is the war and final battle. They should’ve just had a lil bit more scenes and episodes focused on their relationship season 3.

Or technically speaking how it should’ve went woulda been.

1st two seasons they’re falling for each other.

3rd season they’ve officially together without actually being together

They set it up correctly then fumbled third season.

The main focus of THE WHOLE SHOW AND EVERY SINGLE SEASON is the war.

We have Kataang moments, both big and small, in episodes:

One, The Awakening (Aang looking at Katara in awe when he realizes she brought him back from the dead, Katara freaking out when Aang leaves to fight alone)

Two, The Headband (jealous Katara, iconic Kataang dance)

Three, The Painted Lady (Aang being into Katara without even realizing it's her, saying she's like a super hero for helping the village, and then them blowing up a factory together)

Eight, The Puppet Master (Katara using bloodbending against Hama to save Aang from getting a bad case of sword through the chest)

Nine, Nightmares and Daydreams ("You're my forever girl")

Ten, The Day Of Black Sun Part 1 (the kiss Katara clearly enjoyed)

Eleven, The Day Of Black Sun Part 2 (Katara cuddling up with Aang to make him feel better after the invasion fails)

Twelve, The Western Air Temple (Aang not allowing Zuko to join the group until Katara agrees to it, Katara only agreeing because she'll do whatever Aang thinks is best and then threatening to kill Zuko if he ever hurts him again)

Sixteen, The Southern Raiders (Aang letting Katara take Appa, one of his last connections to his pacifist culture, on a mission to kill a man because realizes this an important journey AND knows Katara well enough to understand she won't actually take a life)

Seventeen, Ember Island Players (Aang clearly being afraid that Katara might not like him back and Katara explicitly saying she doesn't think of him as a brother)

Twenty One, last part of the finale (Kataang kiss to make them officially endgame)

11 episodes out 21 (or 10 out of 17 if we consider the multi-part episodes as just one single entity) with about the same amount of focus on each half of the season. That's a fuckton of focus - way more focus than things like the mistery of what the hell happened to Ursa or Iroh's grief for his son got in the entire show, let alone in a single season.

And that's without mentioning that all the set up in the previous seasons means that the writers COULD have given Kataang a bit less focus on the final season if they wanted to because that's the thing with a good story: it tends to assume the viewer doesn't have amnesia and doesn't need to be beaten over the head with the same information every single episode.

Did the show REALLY fumble it, or are you just trying to force an issue where there is none?

[sweetsugarcakes]

Hey babes 💛

This is kinda specific, but could you do some headcannons of Mai and Ty lee dating Azula and Zuko's sister? Like she's really different from Azula, she's nice and kind and how the two would react to this, plus Zuko reacting to Mai dating his sister 💕

Totally fine if not x

hii ofc I can, sorry for taking long 🫶 [also love ur scenarios sm for them]

The girls dating azula/zuko sister

Ty lee and Mai

Ty lee

💗 you two get along so good ever since you were kids

💗she sometimes surprised that your related to azula because you two have different personalities

💗she loves how sweet you are, That’s what made her fall in love with you

💗although Azula was a little sour about her two best friends dating her siblings but she eventually got over it

💗even though your nice, when Zuko or Azula made fun of Ty lee you made sure they wouldn’t do it again and surprisingly they won’t do it

💗she definitely over compliments you to make you feel your pretty and that she’s proud that your her girlfriend

💗you two are would be the type of couple that would be all lovey in public which would make azula and mai gag

💗you two are like the happiest couple on earth and would be the best couple in the fire nation

Mai

🔪zuko was SO jealous of y’all

🔪he couldn’t believe he fumbled mai and thag you treated her better than him. Which later he became excepting to it.

🔪mai liked the change of the relationship she’ll choose you ANYDAY. You treat her right!

🔪azula and ty lee teased the hell out of her and did things for y’all to be together

🔪she’s the one that’ll be mean for you since your always so sweet and kind. She’ll tell people the harsh truth for you.

🔪she would openly say your her fav fire sibling even if you two weren’t together

🔪Azula lost her mind when Mai betrayed her for you especially Azula was a little bit insecure of you.

🔪zuko is definitely giving you two side eyes every time your a little affectionate in public but y’all don’t care in the slightest

[erisenyo]

My last early @zukki-week entry before things truly begin! Featuring crushes, horny thoughts, panic, very caring friends really making it worse, Toph continuing to not believe this shit, and the first of many Realizations.

[“Or wait, no,” Zuko says, a chunk of hair falling down his neck as his hands go slack with sudden realization. “No? You know Kyova never actually—” “I’ll go,” Zuko interrupts, seizing on the idea. “I can go see Sokka.” “Ah,” Suki says after a beat, amusement suddenly threading her tone. “And I can stay here?” “Yes,” Zuko says, firm. She can absolutely stay here.] OR, Zuko realizes he has a crush on Suki the same way he might glance down and notice his own toes—always there, functioning perfectly fine without his attention, and has the second one always been so long? Zuko realizes he has a crush on Sokka like being airbended through a brick wall—full body impact, the breath slammed out of him and the too-late realization that the ground isn’t beneath his feet anymore. Sokka and Suki are just wondering what's up with their boyfriend lately.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

This may be a stupid question, but don’t you think that Aang and Katara living in Air Temple Island is kinda ooc? They’re both such community-driven and family-oriented people that I can’t imagine them carving out an island and living in isolation

Not a stupid question! I agree, especially since they’re both community-oriented AND adventure-oriented! I could see them living in a place where many of their friends and families are, or being entirely nomadic, and Air Temple island is neither. The Water Tribes are the ones who are community-oriented, so I could see Katara wanting to stay in the SWT, but living on Air Temple Island makes no sense for either of them.

Which is, yet again, my beef with Bryke. I think in many ways Ka/taang actually could’ve worked well post-canon, based on what we got in ATLA, but they fumbled the aftermath so badly by making their relationship all about Aang. Katara is the last waterbender in the South Pole, and that was at least theoretically something that could’ve united both of them as victims of imperialist genocide…oh but wait, there are actually more SWT waterbenders, so Katara can dedicate her life to restoring Air Nomad culture instead, how convenient. I’ve ranted before about how Katara totally could’ve been the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, or a Councilmember of Republic City (representing either the SWT or even Air Temple Island), or whatever job that allows her to help a lot of people and maybe get in the occasional fight or two. Any of that would’ve fit very well with Kataang as an endgame ship, because unlike Zuko, Aang doesn’t have to be tied to a specific location. But no! Bryke just had to go and make everything in that relationship revolve around Aang, even when it makes no sense for their characters.

In a way I really don’t envy Ka/taang shippers. I’d have an aneurysm if I was forced to justify things like “my fave got the girl then she changed her whole personality” and “my fave had kids and favoured the one who was like him.” If Bryke had made Zutara canon and then made Katara into an ornamental Fire Lady who never engaged with politics, only did healing, followed the agenda of her husband, and played favourites with her kids, I’d feel like it’s deliberate sabotage lol

[thief-of-eggs]

Zukka AU where Sokka falls first, and Zuko denies every advance he makes on him.

Sokka’s like a love sick puppy. He trails behind Zuko everywhere he goes, always vying for his attention, always eager to please and impress him.

He’s constantly turned down, constantly put in the friendzone. Zuko hardly seems to tolerate his presence as a friend, let alone a lover.

But then, Zuko starts to feel it. He begins to keep a lookout for the Water Tribe boy, starts noting when he’s absent. And when Sokka pulls back with his affections, Zuko feels it like a knife in his chest. He misses his irritating jokes, misses his voice that’s always just a tad too loud.

He finds himself staring, every chance he gets. He seems to find him everywhere- the dining halls, the grounds, the training rooms. Whenever Sokka happens to turn and catch him staring, Zuko’s face turns hotter than the sun.

Zuko starts to fumble his words around Sokka, starts to fidget with his clothes. And it’s this that Sokka notices- at first, he thinks Zuko really doesn’t like him, since now he hardly says a word.

But then Sokka starts to catch Zuko staring more. He finds him stopping in his walks as he passes the training yard, immediately picking Sokka’s form out from the many. He stands still for a moment, half hidden behind a pillar, thinking Sokka can’t see the way he watches him, his lips parted slightly, his eyes soft, his expression open.

And still Zuko never makes a move. So Sokka makes one for them.

He strides up to him, the next time he catches Zuko longingly gazing from afar. Zuko sputters and fumbles, his cheeks painted the color of cherry blossoms as he tries to make an excuse for being so far from the throne room when there are meetings to be had.

Sokka hardly hears it. He grabs the front of Zuko’s robes and tugs, pulling him close as he crushes their lips together. Zuko makes a noise of surprise, and then Sokka is pulling back, a grin on his face.

“Well, I’ve gotta run- loads to do,” he says in a rush, knowing his departure will drive Zuko mad. He turns to leave, and Zuko’s hand darts out to grab onto his arm.

“Wait- I-“ Zuko clears his throat. His rosy cheeks have darkened in color, with a flush that covers his whole face. “I liked that.”

“I know,” Sokka says a grin. “I’ll see you later.”

He leaves Zuko there, his heart pounding and his mind reeling, wondering when the Water Tribe boy came to mean so much to him

[avatar-legends-confessionblog]

(Im that one anon) I don't hate Republic City on principal, I think it's really awesome in concept! I think I was just disappointed by how the writers tried so hard to utilize it as a way to make socio-political commentary on class and discrimination and fumbled the message. Or maybe it didn't but i just disagreed lol

Tbf, same. Republic city was just a disappointment. I only like it in context of zukaang omashu. But also, I feel like neither Zuko or Aang would have wanted it to turn out like that. Aang especially.

X

[stardust948]

A while ago I started a prequel for Into the Night. Here are some snippets.

TW: Domestic and child abuse

“Isn’t this exciting dear?” Rina adjusted her daughter’s silk red robes.

Ursa plastered on a fake smile. “Yes. Very.”

“You’re not fooling me, Ursa.” Rina frown. “I know that look.”

Ursa sighed. “I’m sorry Mom. But how can I be excited to marry someone I hardly know?”

“You’ve met Azulon’s son before and you said he was fine.”

“It was one date. You don’t know a person after one brief date.”

“Well you have the rest of your lives to get to know each other.”

Ursa looked away as anger flared up.

“Darling.” Rina tilted Ursa’s face towards her. “I know this is hard, but we need the money.”

“I know. Still, I feel no less than a prized ostrich-horse going to the highest bidder.”

“That’s enough.” Rina said firmly. “A pampered ostrich-horse is leagues better than one that works in the mines. Be grateful.”

Ursa pursed her lips. “Yes mother.”

Rina finished the last adjustments then walked her to the doors.

“You look beautiful. Big smiles.”

Ursa took a deep breath then smiled brightly.

“Better.”

///

Ursa narrowed her eyes as she caught Ozai creep out of Zuko’s room and quietly closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” she asked lowly crossing her arms.

Ozai scoffed. “Do you not trust me even in my own house? Must you pester me at every waking hour?”

“Answer the question.”

“You aren’t the one in position to demand things from me.” Ozai sneered. “Go back to bed.”

“I’m not one of your subordinates! What were you doing in my son’s room?!”

Muffled noise came from the closed door.

“Zuko?” Ursa moved to open the door but Ozai grabbed her arm.

“You’ll wake him more.” He said in a quieter tone. “He’ll fall back to sleep in time.”

Ursa yanked her arm away and glared at him.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s late. We will discuss this in the morning.” He kissed her cheek. “Alright?”

“I will hold you to it.”

“I expect nothing less.”

Ozai guided her back to the room. Ursa wearily stole a glance at Zuko’s closed door as her stomach knotted.

Something wasn’t right.

///

Ursa felt sick.

She rushed to the bathroom to empty her stomach as her mind replayed the lude texts from her husband’s phone over and over. She shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that he cheated on her, yet the evidence overwhelmed her. It was as if Ozai left it out on purpose for her to find.

After fumbling with the doorknob a bit, Ursa stumbled in and flipped on the light. There was a sharp gasp. Ursa froze.

Zuko by the sink shirtless with bandages and drops of blood scattered on the floor. His back was red and blotchy with streams of blood trinkling down. He looked at her like a cat deer caught in headlights. Ursa’s world tilted.

“Mama!”

“What happened?!”

“Um.” Zuko looked down and clutched his balled up night shirt.

“Zuko look at me.” She dropped to her knees and grabbed both of his shoulders. “What happened?! Tell me who did this!”

Zuko began to cry. “I can’t. F-Father said don’t t-tell.”

Ursa couldn’t breathe. 

“W-What?”

Zuko buried his head into the shirt and sobbed. Ursa’s heart shattered.

“Oh baby…” she shakily pulled him into a hug. “My baby. My darling sweet boy.”

“I’m sorry.” He croaked.

“Zuko.” Ursa cupped his face. “This is not your fault.”

“But Father said I’m broken. H-He’s fixing me.” Zuko eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth. “Please don’t tell him I said that! He made me promise.”

Tears poured out of Ursa’s eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with you baby.”

Zuko bowed his head as more tears came. Ursa stroke his head while fighting the urge to scream and barge into Ozai’s room. Instead, she gently patched Zuko up and led him back to his room.

“How long has Father been doing this?”

“S-Since the party. He… he was really mad tonight.”

Ursa swallowed thickly. “This isn’t right. He’s not supposed to hurt you.”

Zuko gave her a confused look. Ursa slowly inhaled to composed herself.

“Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?”

Zuko nodded.

“Can Dante the Great come too?” he asked hesitantly. “He’s hiding under the bed.”

“Of course darling.”

Ursa fished out the toy and gave it to Zuko. He immediately buried his head in the stuffed turtleduck.

“He doesn’t like it when Father comes.” 

Blinking back more tears, Ursa picked Zuko up while being careful to mind his bandages. “Let’s go get your sister. We’ll have a sleepover.”

“O-Okay.”

[astriddestelle]

Kataang was horribly written post season 2 which is ironically when they really needed to up their writing.

Season 3 was a hot mess aside from like two episodes.

Like first season it’s pretty clear that Kataang is being set up but Zutara has its moments.

Season 2 further defines Kataang and sets up Maiko. Crystal catacombs beats you over the head with both Kataang and Zutara moments cool no problem.

Season 3 is where they should’ve put more focus on Kataang but they didn’t and I get it shipping wasn’t the main point of the story but like you’d think they’d do better writing their main ship.

Katara and Aang get two horrible kiss scenes and I’m not even complaining about the non consent cause like tbh they’ve been flirting for months now. (Ember Islands is a diff issue I’ll get back to) but it’s like never brought up again at all. Until one episode before the finale where he kisses her again and it just doesn’t work.

The kiss before the invasion cute cool he might die, they’ve been flirting sure go for it,

Ember Islands is a similar vibe of kiss before I did but the difference is, they haven’t been flirting or anything the same way they were before. Aangs weirdly jealous even tho he’s never been before it just doesn’t fit.

Outside of the headband there’s literally no kataang moments not really. Katara spent all her moments hating Zuko, Aang spends all his moments firebending. The last episodes leading up to the finale are all the Zuko is a good guy now train express,

They fumbled, they put so much focus on Zuko and Katara, and Zuko and Aang and Zuko and Sokka.

Then the finale is also Zuko and Katara like Aang and Katara have almost no scenes of them together the second half of season 3.

Compare to the first two seasons where they walk under the umbrella together, train together, cave of two lovers, the desert, serpents pass.

Season 3 you get the painted lady for like a second, and the headband dance that’s it.

Kataang in season 3 was basically Maiko in all of the seasons and that’s not a good thing,

Could also make this argument that there’s no Sokka and Katara moments, or Katara and Toph moments, or Aang and Sokka moments it’s all about Zuko Zuko Zuko and yeah he joined the team but did every episode really have to be about him. Couldn’t even do A plot and B plots of what’s going on while they’re on the field trip like when Sokka was sword training sigh.

Still a cute couple but I feel like Zutara has them beat in tension and chemistry post season 2.

Pre season 3 you can really see the love and chemistry Aang and Katara have for each other.

[nimuetheseawitch]

W/I/P for intricate rituals….👀

First of all, this is the wip that came out of this rambling post that I kept adding to. In summary, Zuko and Sokka are real oblivious and don't realize that they are basically dating (and have been for years) and really just think this is what close male friendship is like until someone asks when they're going to get married.

Work: I wrote! I only stopped because it's almost time for dinner, and I had to come to a good stopping point. It's nice to be writing again.

In: here's a little snippet

He really didn't want to have to save his council members from Katara. "They wouldn't have a problem with that." He considered it for a moment and then corrected, "Well, some of them might, but they wouldn't get in the way."

Progress: I'm taking a very chill approach to this one, so I'm not worried that I haven't made much progress. I think I'm going to kind of just write scenes that I think are funny as inspiration hits and then try to tie them together. I already have a lot of ideas (see my previous posts about it), so I'm pretty sure something will come together eventually. I'm really looking forward to then eventually being on the same page and trying to date and making it awkward. They've successfully been romancing each other for years without knowing it, and now they're going to fumble.