#if I ever stop pulling shit out of my ass for fictional moms assume I have died <3 /j

[chisatowo]

Y'know one thing I find funny is that it seems like everyone else's reaction to Ena's mom in the last 25ji event was to be like omg finally a good sekai parent while mines was cool time to give Ena and Akito mommy issues too

[mirdance]

No Matter How You Look at it, My Loving Girlfriend is a Cat Now!

Working with Gam has been such an honor! Her art is absolutely gorgeous, and I'm so glad she enjoyed my whimsical cat idea enough to draw it. Working with her MC, Cho, was a lovely experience, and I hope Cho forgives me for turning her into a cat. <3Thank you to @mysme-rbb for providing this opportunity! Link to Gam's art Instagram: gammam0n Read the story on A03 Summary: Saeran and Cho have been living together for a couple weeks in their new apartment. Co-habitation has had its up and downs, but Saeran thinks he has started to get the hang of everything. He’s even able to cook her favorite breakfast and separate the laundry. Things are looking swell. That is, until his girlfriend turns into a cat.

Saeran’s life really was something out of a fairy tale, if you gathered all the Brothers Grimm tales and mashed them into one horrifying short story with a Snow White happy ending. He thought he had his shit together by this point; who wouldn’t after helping run a cult and years of therapy? You kinda learn something about life in all that mess. But the love of his life, his one and only, Cho, turning into a cat, was something life nor therapy taught him how to deal with. While cute for fiction, the actuality of seeing her curled on the bed, white fluffy tail around her body, sent his eyes twitching.

Earlier, he’d been making them omelettes. She was always waking up early to cook them breakfast, so he’d wanted to do something for her for a change. They’d been living together in their new apartment for just a short while, but she seemed much more put together and relaxed in the fresh environment. He admired her strength, even if he was a tad jealous of her ability to adapt. She was independent, something he could never be, no matter how much he strove. Even with his progress, he still found himself leaning on her too much. Hell, when they’d first met, he’d been running around in the rain for so long, trying to figure out the bus schedule, when she’d stopped to help. She never asked for help, though.

He flopped his finished creation on a plate. Ray nudged the forefront of his mind. Saeran sighed as he prepared a glass of orange juice. All things considered; he was doing so much better than he could have ever imagined. Waking up to cook, laundry, working, they were hard, but he’d endured more and could get through this. He made his way down their tiny hallway with a skip in his step. Just thinking about how it was theirs, and how he was no longer alone. Sure, he had his family and his friends, but having Cho to hold him on those rough nights was simply different. A different kind of home.

He pushed open the bedroom door with his hip. “Time to wake,” he whispered with a grin. “I’ve made you—”

The plate fell to the floor with a clatter. Eggs flew across the floor and landed near the foot of the bed. Saeran coughed. His throat began to itch, and he pulled on his collar. “I…I’m sorry,” he reached down and began cleaning up the mess. “I thought…thought. We were going to pick out one of the kittens from the shelter next week? Because they’re overrun and all…”

Sleeping on the bed was a fluffy, white, cat. It resembled Elizabeth the 3rd in some ways, but its fur was not nearly as long, and its eyes glowed amber in the sunrise of the window. It stretched and yawned before jumping off the bed and eating the eggs off the floor.

Saeran bapped it away. “I don’t know if you can eat everything in this…”

Much to his dismay, the cat did not listen and only ate faster. What was this, a dog in a cats body? He lifted the cat as he stood and stepped over the egg mess. “Cho? Did my brother put you up to this?” He glanced around the corners of the room to find the hidden camera. There was nothing in the bed or closet. His heartbeat throbbed throughout his skull.

“Cho?”

He called her name several more times. She’d just been right here, sleeping under the covers. He hadn’t heard her move from the room. The window was intact. This had to be some joke his brother put her up to. Instinctively, he kissed the top of the cat’s head, and it rubbed its chin along his jawline. He couldn’t help but smile even through his disappointment.

“We said we’d pick one out together. I know, it’s probably dumb of me, but I’m kind of let down. It’s nothing against you, I promise.” He sat the cat on the bed and scratched behind its ear. “Please stay here while I clean this mess. I need to find Cho and see what’s going on.”

As Saeran bent to place the omelette back onto the plate, the cat jumped down once again and dove into the food. He lifted the plate into the air. “You must be hungry. I think we have some wet food.” He grimaced and checked around the floor once more. Cho hadn’t even set up a litter box. Hopefully, it hadn’t peed anywhere.

“I’ll be back.”

He’d said that, but the cat followed him to the kitchen, anyway. Were cats always so friendly? Well, in his experience, some were, but only after lots of food and getting to know one another. Maybe there was a reason Cho picked this one out? He didn’t want to assume anything bad. She was probably on her way to get emergency supplies or something. He discarded the eggs. The cat pawed at the trash can.

“I’m getting you food, hold on.”

He rummaged through the cabinets as the cat circled between his legs. They kept wet food for the stray cats that ran around and were hoping to prepare for a kitten of their own. “I hope you like chicken flavor,” he murmured as he popped open the lid. He dumped the food on a saucer before setting it on the ground.

“There you go. Doesn’t that look yummy?” The cat turned its nose up, and Saeran swore it shook its head. It turned its back to him and sat on the ground. Saeran cleared his throat. “Well, I guess it might be a bit hard to eat.” He grabbed a fork from the cabinet and began cutting the wet food into bite sized pieces. “I guess it does kinda stink, huh?”

The cat squeaked somewhat but did not meow. It jumped onto the counter and stared down at him.

“Oh, do you want to eat it up there?” He sat the plate before the cat.

The cat knocked it to the floor.

Thankfully, it was a plastic plate.

Saeran took a deep breath before anyone impatient could co-front. Maybe Ray would be better at dealing with this. “Okay, chicken is out of the question. Unfortunately, that’s all we have at the moment. The big stray Bo outside loves beef flavor and ate it all up. I think…we have turkey? For sandwiches. Hold on.”

It was a good thing he was off work today. How could Cho leave a cat behind with nothing to eat? He was still expecting his brother to pop out of a corner, but the apartment was eerily silent. Cho had never been so unprepared. He quickly grabbed his cell phone from the top of the fridge (Why was it on top of the fridge? Who left it there? Somehow, he remembered it being up there, so one of his brain mates was probably laughing their ass off.) He dialed Cho.

And it rang.

And rang

And rang

Saeran stared at his phone for far too long until he realized her phone was ringing in the bedroom. He darted for the room, only to find the phone buzzing on top of the dresser, still charging from the night before.

“Cho, this isn’t funny anymore.”

Saeran lunged for the phone and tried to type in the password. Wasn’t it her birthday? Not that they went through each other’s phones all the time, but occasionally they played games together and traded. The phone vibrated in defiance. He didn’t want to lock himself out. He logged into messenger on his own phone, but no one was awake. Not even Jumin Han or Jaehee.

Clattering noises echoed from the kitchen. Crap. He jogged back to the cat to find it…on the table, turkey on bread. A literal sandwich laid before a cat with the cat nibbling the edges. He laughed. Had he made this cat a sandwich and forgot? No, he simply thought about feeding it turkey. Maybe Ray had? No, Ray didn’t show up as far as Saeran could remember. Wait, were cats supposed to have bread?

He set the phones on the table and slid the turkey from the bread slices. “Not for kitties,” he mumbled. “I don’t know how you made yourself a sandwich, but you’re one smart animal.”

A low growl rumbled from the cat’s throat as it sat on its haunches, but otherwise it seemed at peace. Its ears were perked normally, and its tail rested softly at its side. At least it hadn’t mauled him. Maybe Cho had noticed how picky it was and ran out to get groceries. Maybe she’d forgotten her phone? He couldn’t see it, but it was possible.

“Hm, I wonder if you’re a boy or a girl?” He was tired of calling it ‘it’. It didn’t have a collar. “Excuse me,” he went behind the cat and lifted its leg. Both Cho and Saeran had learned to tell the differences between sexes while volunteering for Yoosung’s vet office, so this was nothing but procedure at this point. Its ears laid flat against its head. Saeran apologized once again before putting the cat’s leg down and allowing it freedom. “Well, it’s a girl,” he said, smiling and scratching behind her ear. “I wonder when your mom will be back. Should I got out and look for her? I’m super worried.”

She ignored him, walking past him and to the phones that lie on the table. Her tiny paws tapped the screen of Cho’s phone before it lit to life. Saeran sat down at one of the chairs and blocked the corners of the table with his hands. “Please don’t start knocking over more stuff,” he begged.

His phone began ringing. He quickly picked it up, only to find Cho’s profile across the screen. His eyes darted from Cho’s phone to his. This cat…had called him. Wait, this cat had unlocked the phone!

“I guess you got lucky,” Saeran said, hanging up both phones. He began looking through Cho’s. Everything was normal, her schedule, the menus. He sighed and sat the phone back down. “I guess I’m going to have to go out and find her myself. She’s probably just at the corner store looking for…”

Once again, the cat called him. He jerked the phone out of the cat’s paws and hung everything up. He wasn’t one to believe in the supernatural, but hell if this wasn’t weird. Against his better judgement, he locked Cho’s phone and set it back down. There, cat. See if you can unlock it again.

The cat seamlessly tapped its little paws on the screen, unlocking the phone with what seemed to be Cho’s birthday. Saeran wanted to smack his head on the table. “You can’t be serious. I swear to god if my brother is in here, he will not live to see tomorrow.”

The cat used its nose to click around, smudging the screen in the process. Sarean wiped it with his sleeve. “You’re going to ruin the screen.”

The cat, resigned to its fate of only using its paws, eventually opened up notes and tapped at the keyboard. Saeran--still not believing that the cat knew what it was doing because how could it—chuckled and pet its flank.

Hhji itds mje cvho I lolve u

Saeran slid the phone over to himself and read the garbled message. What…no. Ha. Hahahhahahahhaa. No. That looked an awful too much like Hi it’s me, Cho, I love you but typed with fat cat toes.

Everything was too much of a match for Saeran to doubt. Even the cat’s eyes were the same color. “Cho…is that really you?”

The cat placed a paw on his hand and nodded…cats didn’t nod. Well, unless they were in some cartoon, which Saeran was very much beginning to feel like the protagonist of. Did someone sneak elixir in his juice? Had he taken too much medication?

He gulped. “If…if you’re really Cho, spin around two times.” He wanted to laugh more, but part of him was deathly afraid of his own mental state. The other part of him was afraid for hers.

Saeran almost reached out to stop her as the cat spun around twice. She sat and seemed to glower at him, as if daring him to ask for more party tricks. Saeran lifted his hands in the air in defeat. “Okay, okay, Miss Cho. I believe you. I’m either high as a kite or you’ve somehow turned yourself into a cat, but either way, I trust you.”

Cho nudged his arm with the side of her cheek. God, it was so cute. He couldn’t think like that, though. He had to gather his thoughts. How could they turn her back? Whether he was off his rocker or not, it was important to settle the matter. Cho was a cat for a reason, and even though it was super cute, it was probably not the most comfortable. After all, how could she go to the bathroom? Would he need to get a litter box? Or maybe keeping the lid up on toilet was enough. Could she eat human food, or would that hurt her stomach? While they get to the bottom of this, maybe it would be best to try and get her to eat cat food. Should he take her to the vet?

“Merow.” Cho rolled onto her back, and Saeran’s heart thumped against his ribcage.

“Ha…you’re so cute. I know cats down like belly rubs but…” He reached out tentatively and gently ran his fingers across her belly fur. So…soft. She put her paws around his hand and nibbled his knuckles. “Is that too much?” He tried to pull his hand back, but she bit down harder. “Hey, that’s not fair. Stop that.”

Cho licked his hand apologetically with her sandpaper tongue and let go. Saeran would have to remember not to give too many belly rubs. Hopefully, she would poof back into a human any time, but it would be good to take mental notes of her likes and dislikes. It sort of reminded him of the fairy tales his brother used to tell to put him to sleep.

“Oh, maybe the princess needs a kiss from the prince?” He rested his head on the table and pushed his nose against her wet nose. But how was he to kiss a cat? He pecked her nose and mouth area, but nothing happened. “Well, it was worth a try.”

Cho licked him on the mouth; her sandpaper tongue felt pretty gross, but he tried not to grimace. He thanked her for the kiss and sighed. Maybe whatever was wrong with her would eventually wear off? He’d need to make a list of quality-of-life necessities and see if she agreed with them. In addition to food and toiletries, she probably needed toys. Maybe Jumin could recommend some cat trees.

Jesus Christ, he was beginning to sound like the man himself.

“I’m going to take care of you, Cho. Even if we can’t figure out how to change you back, I’ll love you. Just the way you are.”

Cho stretched into a stand and rammed her head against his several times. He couldn’t help but laugh as fur danced around his nostrils. They’d need several lint rollers, too. Would she want to go out on walks? He couldn’t keep her cooped up in the house, no matter how much he wanted to protect her. It would be fun if she could speak to other cats.

“By the way,” he whispered as he ran his fingers along her back. “I didn’t get to mention it the other day before I left for work. But thank you. You’ve worked really hard to help me despite my struggles. I know it’s not easy living with me. I can be an airhead sometimes, and I shouldn’t have put your shirt in the wash like you said. I just wanted to get it clean because it’s your favorite. Now it’s ruined. Gah, I don’t know anything about this stuff.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and Cho placed a paw on his cheek. He smiled shakily into her paw and pecked it.

Her paw grew warm until it was almost scalding. Before Saeran could freak out, cat paws turned to fingers. Her nose turned human, and the rest of her body followed, save for the cat ears on top of her head. Saeran’s face tingled, and he quickly looked away from her naked form.

“Omelette is ready,” she said. It almost sounded like a morphed meow, but he could tell it was her voice.

Saeran cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“Merowwake up.”

The top of his head began tingling and sent a cool sensation down his neck; he went to scratch his head, but his hands were fuzzy. As he stared at them, they grew into paws. He sneezed as fur tickled his nose. Wait, no. He didn’t want to be a cat, either! How could he learn to cook with his girlfriend? Pick out the kitten together?

As he cried out, only meows echoed against his skull. The kitchen stretched into ginormous walls as he shrunk and shrunk and shrunk. He reached his little paws as far as he could to grab hold of Cho, but he fell off the chair.

Before he hit the ground, his surroundings changed. Bedsheets stuck to his back, and his fingers gripped the comforter. Fingers. Good. He stretched them out in front of his face to make sure he hadn’t grown paws. There were no ears on the top of his head, either.

“You’re acting lively,” Cho said. She set a glass of orange juice on the nightstand. “I hope that means your fever is down.”

Saeran rolled his head over on the pillow. Cho held a plate of omelettes and sat next to him. The bed creaked as she crossed her legs and stabbed the food with a spoon. She wasn’t a cat. He wasn’t a cat. And in the end, he hadn’t even woken up to make her breakfast.

“I’m sorry I’m so useless,” he mumbled. “I meant to wake up and make you something since you’re always doing it.”

She rolled her eyes. “You went to bed with a fever, don’t even start. And I enjoy doing these things. It gives me a sense of freedom.”

She pushed the spoon towards Saeran, and he took the food without complaint. He’d stayed up all night over the toilet; no wonder his dreams were whack. He debated on telling her, but the thought embarrassed him. He didn’t want to seem as cat obsessed as Jumin. Saeran couldn’t lie, though. He was a bit nervous about taking care of something totally reliant upon him, but Cho said they were ready.

After his meal, Cho gave him cold medicine and ran her fingers through his hair. “I know you’re stressed about postponing with the shelter,” she said, gathering the dishes. “But it’s no big deal. Just get some rest.” She leaned down and kissed his nose.

He closed his eyes and touched where she had kissed, making sure to imprint it into his memory. “I’m sorry about your shirt,” he mumbled.

She sighed and pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry about it. Make it up to me by feeling better soon, okay?”

He nodded as she left the room with dishes in tow. His eyes were heavy even though he had just slept. Part of him wanted to jump up and offer to do the dishes. Offer to make her food. Offer something, anything. Yet his body fought against his mind. There was no energy left in his limbs. He’d make it up to her eventually. He’d promised her that he’d take better care of himself. Thus, he allowed the voices to quiet down in his mind and sleep peacefully.

[mcustorm]

Thoughts on Love, Victor Season 1

PSA: If you think that you might be gay, don’t get a girl emotionally invested! Please!

Ya know, at first when I thought about what I was going to write about this show, I thought that I should split the writings into the first half/last half of the show. Now I’m thinking “screw it”, if only because if I was going to go that route I should have stopped, parsed through my feelings about the first 5 episodes, and written those thoughts before proceeding with the next half. That, of course, did not happen, so to prevent the back half of the season’s events from miring the first half, I’ll just write about the whole shebang. There’s probably a joke about that word somewhere, I’ll try not to make it.

Anyways, let’s start by saying that on the whole, I really liked this show. It was not as good as Sex Education season 1, yet in my opinion waaaay better than HSMTMTS season 1. Most of the characters were likable and felt developed enough, it moved at a nice pace, and you can tell that a lot of heart went into this. Perhaps because we all watched this in a day, it felt like a 5 hour movie rather than a 10 episode tv show.

Additionally, I of course like the Latinx representation. The intersectionality of the Latinx community and the LGBTQ+ community has been presented on at least five TV shows to my knowledge: Ugly Betty, One Day at a Time, Diary of a Future President, The Baker and the Beauty, and now Love, Victor. Let’s keep it up!

As for the premise of the show itself, I *love* that this show acknowledges that Simon’s journey, at least at his house, was leaps and bounds easier than many other people’s. Victor’s parents are more conservative and religious, and they don’t have their shit together, so this is not the best environment to drop that bombshell in (which is why it was so incredible when Victor decides to do it anyway). Simon and Victor’s DM’s being a framing device for the show was a great way to tie the universe together.

The hook of Love, Simon was that you know all those cheesy and cliche rom-coms that straight people have gotten since the dawn of time? Well LGBT people deserve those stories too! Love, Victor is sort of presented with that same thesis in mind, which is why watching these episodes felt like different things I’ve seen before all over. The whole season ironically feels like Alex Strangelove: The TV Show, right down to the often cringy relationship with the girl, the openly gay love interest who conflicts our protagonist, and the goofball friend who chases after a girl who is seemingly out of his league.

Mia’s character felt a lot like Laila from All-American, being a black girl who is ordained as the hottest girl at school (which I feel like is a title only given in fictional schools), who also has a missing mother and problems with her rich dad. Pilar, on the other hand, feels like Casey from Atypical, in that she is openly rebellious in large part because of her mother’s infidelity.

Victor’s story this season sure was something to watch. The biggest question for me was, just how much sympathy should he be given? The world is inherently unfair to Victor. None of us should have to go through the agony and anxiety that so often comes with being in the closet and coming out. But for Victor to have visited those problems on Mia, who is going through things herself? That makes him pretty morally gray.

But he was still finding himself! But he loves Mia, just not like that! I get it, which is why he should have cut things off as soon as he got back from New York, no he should have cut things off when she asked him if there was “anything else” in her bedroom, no he should have cut things off when he literally felt like he and Benji were the only two people in the room at the concert, no he really shouldn’t have done this to begin with.

The line between Victor finding himself and him deceiving Mia is the conflict of the show, but the moment for me when I was like “Damn, Victor” was after he intentionally derailed Mia’s shebang-ing that she planned, he found the gall to lie to Benji and plan a seduction! That is why the season finale was so glorious. Because yes, while the world is unfair to Victor, he’s being unfair to the people around him.

I have made it a point not to read other people’s opinions extensively so as not to bias my own thoughts, but is Felix everybody else’s favorite? Felix’s character and arc was great. He was a supportive friend yet still felt like he had a story and stakes of his own, something which some TV shows get right (Sex Ed) and some TV shows get various shades of wrong (Jamie Johnson, Andi Mack). I like that he knew his worth and cut things off with Lake, and I like that she realized that her happiness with him should take priority over what others think of her.

I was soooo sympathetic to Mia. Her world is being turned upside down at home. Clearly, she has not even processed her mother being out of her life, and now her Dad is “replacing” her Mom while the baby is also “replacing” her! In Mia’s eyes, at least. Mia just needs to know that she is loved and appreciated. Which she *thought* of all people she’d be able to get from her boyfriend. Shucks.

As for the rest of Victor’s family, I also thought the parents’ storyline was pretty interesting yet unfortunate. Armando just can’t come around to trusting Isabel, which I actually kind of understand. Isabel, meanwhile, is being prevented from doing the thing she loves to do, which sucks especially because she’s in a radically new environment. Adrian is of course great, protect him at all costs. Pilar’s seemingly permanent mode of “angsty” is completely justified, as her friends back in TX are moving on just fine without her, she’s having trouble opening up and fitting in, and her family is WYLIN.

Some things that didn’t go so well for me was Andrew’s character, who feels like he’s just there to obstruct at any given moment. Y'all knew that when Victor and Benji were having that convo in the bathroom, someone was in the stall and someone was Andrew. Also, my guy, how are you not even somewhat aware that you are a total douchecanoe? I liked Benji, but Venji didn’t quite work for me because of all of the cheatation that it took to get there. Benji was pissed and ready to stay away from Victor permanently after the [attempted seduction], but once his relationship was over he was completely fine with putting his tongue down Mia’s boyfriend’s throat.

Overall, I really enjoyed this show. Some of these teen dramas I’m admittedly only watching for the LGBT content, so to have that be at the forefront of a show for once was amazing. The conflict was realistic if frustrating, and to me most of the characters seemed fully realized. Thankfully, the show didn’t even feel too “spin-offy” even with Nick Robinson being all over it.

In any given multi-season serialized show, the trajectory of the show goes one of two ways: the first season puts your feet on the ground of the series, and then later seasons go above and beyond with the storytelling (The Office, Breaking Bad, Bojack Horseman, Jamie Johnson) OR the first season is pretty great TV, and the following seasons fail to live up to its glory (The Good Place, Dear White People, really most every Netflix show ever). Which category Love, Victor ends up in is something to look forward to. Where do we go from here now that Victor is taking his first steps out of the closet?

Stray thoughts from the episodes:

The soundtrack on the whole, was not my cup of tea. I still liked a couple of songs, so that means somebody out there liked more of them.

I completely forgot Natasha Rothwell was in Love, Simon. More of her! More of Ali Wong! More of Beth Littleford! They were all great.

So Roger got his ass beat by Armando, and he still wants to get back with her?? Roger is reckless, man.

Speaking of reckless, Victor’s closet skills completely fell apart towards the end there. Assume somebody’s always watching!

Lake’s mother is a trip.

Good for the family for standing up to the grandparents.

Oh my god, Simon and Bram. Those guys are mine, and now they’re growing up and moving to the Big Gay City. They’ve come a long way.

Speaking of the Big Gay City, we were in Atlanta for a season and got *0* acknowledgement of the vibrant gay community there. More things to look forward to.

Was anybody else singing Selena along with Isabel? That is my favorite Selena song!

By rule of Felix being a male and Pilar being a female close in age, I immediately thought they were going to be a thing. The writers didn’t pull that thread too much...

That moment at the end there when we all thought Victor was going to hold off on his announcement only for him to go “fuck it” and say it anyways? And then he got to exhale? Perfect. chef’s kiss

What with June being Pride month, the SCOTUS ruling a couple of days ago, this entire show premiering today, and Delliot things going down in less than 24 hours, this will likely be the gayest week of the year. I suggest we all enjoy it.

Stay Peachy!

[savannahadelinemaddock]

JOB2005

Andy receives a piece of news from Duffy in regards to the case involving his son. He gets a little heated and unfortunately it does not go well in the beginning.

Things do work themselves out though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Savannah was startled when she heard Andy slam the backdoor as he came into the house. Quickly getting up from where she sat in their home office, she found him looking around. 

“Andy, what are you..”

“Where’s Jake?”

“He’s in his room. What’s wrong?” She had barely gotten her question out when he had headed up the stairs. “Andy, what’s wrong?!”

She was too late though as Andy had already barged into Jake’s room. 

“Did you write a story about being Ben’s killer?” He asked looking at their son. 

“Dad…”

“Did you do it, Jake?” Andy asked again. Savannah stood in the doorway watching the two of them react to one another. Even she knew trying to stop Andy in this moment wouldn’t matter. 

“Andy, can you please explain what you’re talking about so I can mediate?” She asked, finally moving into the room. 

“Our son may have written a fictional story on some cutter fiction website about being Ben’s killer!” Andy answered, not daring to look away from Jake. “Did you do it?”

“No!” Jake answered looking at him. “I swear I didn’t! I mean yeah I wished the guy would leave me alone but I would never!” 

Savannah could see the honest fear on Jake’s face as his father’s sudden outburst. This was why Jake had never been in a courtroom while they’d been working a trial. They didn’t have angry outbursts in the house for a reason. 

“Andy, how do they know it was Jake?” She asked, looking at him. 

“Username was JOB2005.” He answered by turning to look at her.

“Did the ISP for the story lead back to our house? To any of our computers?” She continued with her questions, looking at him. She was the defense lawyer busily working to talk her fuming husband down. 

“Duffy said they’re running it right now.”

“Then lay off our child until you have answers. Jake didn’t write it. He just told you he didn’t write it. You do not get to be angry with him for writing it when there is no proof other than the username to tell you it was him.” She could see Andy’s shoulders relax as she spoke. “Now, apologize to our son.”

Jake looked at her, knowing that this was stressful for both of them as much as it was for him. But he had never seen his father blow up like this.  

“I’m sorry, buddy.” Andy sighed, moving to sit next to him on the bed. “I shouldn’t have… I know you’ve told us everything and I shouldn’t have burst in here like that.”

Jake kept a small distance between them, still slightly scared of his father. 

“I just want to be able to protect you, Jake. Ever since you were a baby, that’s all I’ve wanted. I see daily what the world can spit out in people. I know because of my dad. And you know that. I am sorry, bud. I really am.” He was staring at the floor, trying to control himself. “I just.. Duffy said the username and I couldn’t…”

“I didn’t write it. I promise. Even if I did, you and mom taught me well enough. Vent it to a sheet of paper in handwriting then burn it.” Jake answered looking at him. “I promise I didn’t write it. I wouldn’t even know what website that is.”

It was later that evening when they were starting to fix dinner that Duffy showed up, knocking on the backdoor. Savannah was busily showing Jake how to do something when Andy let her in.

“What’s the news?”

“The internet connection was here. But his laptop nor phone matched where it was posted from according to the website’s log history.” Duffy smiled, coming in. “And Savannah invited me to stay for dinner so I’m taking her up on it.”

“You’re always welcome here, Duf.” She answered over her shoulder as she turned back to help Jake. 

Andy nodded, still not okay after the earlier outburst with Jake. He hadn’t exactly wanted to be close to him.

“What’s wrong, Andy?” Duffy asked, looking at him. “I figure you would be happy about that answer.”

“I had an outburst with Jake when I got home from you telling me after we searched the phone.” Andy sighed, shaking his head. “Jake’s not… He’s keeping his distance right now. This just makes me look more like the asshole.”

“He knows you love him, Andy. It’s just rough when you can’t take care of him and be the lawyer.” Duffy offered another smile as she gently squeezed Andy’s shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

“Hey Duffy!” Jake called, moving over to hug her. “Mom’s making her dad’s chicken piccata.”

“Oh god… You’re set on fattening anyone in this house up as much as you can, aren’t you, Sav?” Duffy asked, hugging Jake. 

“Nah, just…. It’s either that or we order takeout and one of us has to go pick it up. I’d rather not be looked at like a sideshow freak.” She answered, looking over her shoulder at Duffy. “I’m glad you’re staying for dinner, by the way. With everyone…”

“Of course!” Duffy went over, spying the wine glass that was sitting next to Savannah. “You okay?” She asked quietly.

“Well enough. I thought for a second Andy was going to throttle Jake earlier.” She answered with a shrug.

“You defense lawyered him, didn’t you?” Duffy knew she was good at it. She’d been crossed by her too many times. 

“Yep. And of course you come in with the truth that it didn’t come from one of our computers.” Savannah answered as she finished with what she was working on - the chicken - and moved to put it in the oven. “I knew it wasn’t. I know my son well enough.”

“You’ve taught him well enough.” Duffy smiled, shaking her head as she looked over to where Jake was playing with Theo in the living room. “He’s doing okay, right?”

“As well as can be expected. We’ve been seeing a family therapist once a week and he sees someone on his own as well.” She answered, taking a breath. “But today… Andy’s just not been okay since Joanna decided for us to see the genetic therapist. He had to go see his sperm donor.”

“God, that must have been rough.”

“I haven’t seen Andy feel so defeated since he lost his first case that first year we moved here.” Savannah knew it sucked for him. She had wanted to go do it herself but he’d put his foot down. “They’ll fix it. Give them a few hours and they’ll be fine.”

What Savannah wasn’t expecting is that it wasn’t going to be fine in a few hours. Jake had gone to bed without a word to them. She’d only discovered it after she’d gone up to see if he wanted ice cream. It had truly broken her heart at the thought that he was so upset over the accusation that he’d just chosen to go to bed. But she knew he needed his space from them - even if she hadn’t accused him of it. It was when she and Andy were getting ready for bed that they heard the knock on their door, making her curious as Andy opened the bedroom door to reveal a tear stain faced Jake.

“Baby boy, what’s wrong?” She asked looking over at him. Slowly she made her way over, wrapping him in her arms as he continued to sob. “Was it a bad dream?”

They both saw the soft nod as he clutched to her. Savannah slowly led him to the bed, pulling back the covers for him to crawl in. 

“You can sleep with us tonight.” She said looking over at Andy. He nodded as Jake crawled into the bed. Theo came too of course, snuggling at the foot of the bed at Jake’s feet as Savannah finished her routine for the night. 

Andy was hesitant as she disappeared into their bathroom, the sound of the water running as she brushed her teeth filling the room. He sat down on his side, checking his phone one more time before turning it on to ‘Do Not Disturb’ and sliding under the covers. Jake was still leaving a tiny bit of room between them as they laid there in bed waiting on Savannah.

“Bud… I hope you know I really am sorry about earlier today.” He looked over at Jake, knowing it must have made him feel like shit. “You’re already worried about things you shouldn’t have to worry about. And my blowing up like that wasn’t what you needed. It also wasn’t very appropriate of me either.”

“I know you’re trying to protect me, Dad…. I just… I haven’t lied to you either of you about this. I wasn’t there when Ben got killed. I gave you my knife because I was scared.” Jake answered curling himself into a ball in the sheets.

“I know, bud. And I can’t take away how I made you feel. But I promise, from here on out, I’ll ask you about it first before I start assuming things… because I really made an ass out of myself earlier today.”

“Yeah, you kind of did.” Jake laughed, looking up at Andy.

Savannah came out to find the both of them smiling as she headed over to her side of the bed. They were at least mending their relationship after Andy’s outburst that morning and she was happy that they had talked. Snuggling up behind Jake, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head. 

“Time for all good boys to go to sleep.” She whispered, squeezing him lightly before settling into her pillow. 

And that was how the four of them spent the rest of the night, sleeping peacefully in their little cocoon where Jake was safe and home where he belonged and not even the world could change that.

[preface2adreamplay]

Under Your Spell (Chapter 27) - I Keep On Biting Til I Feel It

Summary: A Jared Padalecki/ OFC/ Oscar Isaac fiction.

Stef makes a phone call she didn’t think she’d make.

Married Jared! Single Oscar!

Chapter warnings: Angst, swearing, masturbaton.

Chapter WC: 2,450

Spending the weekend with Darius had been fun. They spent a little time at her mom’s graveside, then drank a few vodka’s in her memory at a bar downtown. 

It was the first time in a few years that they had one on one time. Stef could feel herself relaxing out of ‘mother mode’. They were sitting outside of the airport when Darius brought up Jared, not for the first time that weekend.

‘You don’t like him?’ Stef asked, sadly.

‘I do like him. He’s cool and he seems really into you. But, I dunno mom, I’d hate to see you hurt again.’

Stef put her hands into her lap, looking at people rushing in and out of their cars, trying to avoid the snow fall.

‘I hate that you remember the first time.’

‘I barely remember it, but you were pissed at dad for years.’

Stef snorted, half in amusement, remembering. 

‘I really didn’t let him forget it, did I?’

‘No,’ Darius’s voice, deeper than his fathers, sounded unusually snippy. 

‘I agree with that to a certain point, but.’ he hesitated, watching his mothers face. ‘Did you ever ask dad what actually happened?’

Stef whipped her head around to look him in the eyes, ‘I was there, Darius, I saw. That was enough.’

Darius huffed and looked out the window.

‘If Tanya did that to you, would you forgive her? Stef rolled her eyes and continued ‘actually, I don’t wanna have this conversation. I don’t want to argue with you before you go back to school.’

‘I’d at least hear her out.’ Darius regarded his mother for a moment and shrugged, he had said his piece. 

‘Don’t give me that mom look,’ He drew the corners of his mouth up into that cheeky smile she loved so much.

‘Give your mom a hug and don’t give her a headache, please?’ 

Darius got out of the car and walked to her side, grabbing her into a bear hug. 

‘Thanks for coming to see me baby boy.’ 

‘Take care of yourself, mom.’ 

Darius looked back over his shoulder as he walked into Departures. ‘I’ll kick his ass if he hurts you!’

***

Stef sat in her car, deciding she would text Claire and see how she was doing. 

Stef: Hey how did the weekend go? Darius surprised me and came to visit, I just dropped him at the airport.

It took only a few minutes to get a reply.

Claire: that’s so sweet! did Oscar come too?

Stef: Nah, he hurt himself on set, it was just my boy.

Claire: Poor Oscar. I’ll be back on Friday, so we can hang or go for food or drinks. Whatevs.

Stef smiled at the phone, tears threatening. Claire always remembered the upcoming weekend was a bad one. Each passing year, Stef would get less sad about her mothers passing and somehow that did make her sad, but in a different way. Claire was a great friend, albeit an unpredictable whirlwind of craziness and love. 

Stef was grounded and quiet where Claire was a leaf tossed in the changing directions of a gale on an island in the Atlantic. 

They complimented each other perfectly.

Stef: Perfect. tell Rich hey from me. xx

Claire had gone down to meet Richards family. Stef didn’t recall that ever happening before. The thoughts of it ignited excitement for her friend. Finally.

‘Ok, time for some music to calm me down.’ Stef poked around at her playlist until the familiar sound of Devin Townsend’s ‘Kingdom’ came onto her speakers. Hitting the road back home she could only think about what Darius had said about hearing his girlfriend out if she tried to explain why she kissed someone else. Stef knew she never let Oscar explain, she was too angry, upset, humiliated. 

Shaking the thoughts from her mind as she pulled up outside the house, she swallowed her pride and called Oscar.

His voice was muffled when he answered.

‘Hello?’

‘Shit, can you hear me?’

‘My name is not shit.’

Stef rolled her eyes.

‘I know you’re rolling your eyes,’ his familiar chuckle warmed her insides a little.

‘Am not.’

‘I gotta tell you, I was so surprised when I saw you were calling me.’

‘Why?’

‘Coz you never call me.’

Stef scoffed, ‘I do!’

‘Nah, you don’t, tell me, when was the last time you called me.’

Stef closed the door behind her. Brendan was slinking down the stairs, watching her with his green eyes narrowed. 

‘It’s Oscar!’ Stef declared. The cat stopped at the end of the stairs and looked at her expectantly.

‘Who are you talking to?’

‘Brendan.’ Stef was rubbing the soft fur under his chin, cooing at him as if he were baby. 

Oscar was laughing again. ‘I miss that crazy cat.’

‘He has calmed down a lot now. Usually if he misbehaves, I tell him he will have to go see Aunt Claire for a weekend.’

‘I imagine a weekend at Claire’s would be a lot more fun than you think.’

Stef hmmed a response, not really listening to him while she took off her coat one-handed.

‘You ok, Stef?’

‘Yeah, all good. Why?’

‘Not to keep at it, but you called me and you never call me. Is something up?’

‘Nooooo,’ Stef felt a little caught out, ‘I just wanted to see how you were, your foot, I mean.’

‘Just my foot?’ Oscar was biting back a giggle. 

‘Well, you hurt it!’

‘The rest of me can go fuck itself.’

Stef stopped dead in the middle of the living room and threw her head back, closing her eyes. ‘I could use a massage.’

‘You are so strange, you know that?’

‘Am not!’

Oscar was in a good mood, despite being in pain.

‘So what’s up with the foot? Darius said you hurt it in a stunt or something?’

‘Yep, I was doing a really cool and impressive stunt, and whatever way I landed, I twisted my ankle little.’

‘Oh, that sounds awful. I can’t wait to see the stunt that took you out.’ Stef laughed.

‘Ha ha, Stef. You’re all heart.’

‘Do you think you’ll live?’

‘I might, if only to see your face one more time.’

‘Oh fuck, you’re not allowed to do any more period dramas.’ 

‘I have help here anyway, I’m good,’ he said, exerting himself loudly as he shifted off the bed.

‘Who’s there?’

‘No one....I got a crutch.’

‘Oh.’

‘You sound like a crazy ex-girlfriend.’

‘I am.’

There was silence between them for a moment before Stef remembered why she called.

‘Thank you for getting Darius to visit me. That was a nice surprise.’

‘You’re welcome. He wanted to do it since last January, but he didn’t tell me in time and there were no flights.’

‘He’s so sweet.’

‘Yeah, he gets that from me.’ Oscar said, without missing a beat.

Stef sighed loudly into the phone. ‘Ouch,’ Stef’s hip brushed against dining table, pulling her jeans down with her free hand she inspected the large finger sized bruises there.

‘Earth to Stef, what’s up?’

‘I have a bruise on my hip, hurts like a motherfucker.’

‘Where did you get that?’ Stef caught herself before she tumbled out the words ‘Jared’s hands were holding me still while he fucked me hard, the way I like it.’

‘Walking into this dining table too often.’

‘You should move it.’

‘Good idea, come up here and help me rearrange my house so I don’t keep running into things.’ 

‘I’ll sit on the sofa and point to things with my crutch. You can care for me while I recover.’

Stef bit her lip, trying to imagine the scene. ‘I don’t know if I’d be a caring enough nurse to get you back on your feet.’

‘I disagree, I’ve seen you care for your mom and you raised a child. But I agree, you may not take care of me the same way.’

‘You make me sound mean, I was trying to be funny.’ Stef wiggled her fingers under the tap, there was plenty of hot water there for a bath. That may be just what she needed. Bubbles and wine. Why not, she was alone and needed to think. 

‘Definitely not mean. You are anything but mean.’

‘I dunno, maybe I am a horrible person,’ she said softly, more-so to herself than Oscar.

‘What the hell? There’s definitely something up with you Stef. You’re calling me, walking into furniture and telling me you’re a bad person. Do I have to come up there and tell you all the reasons why you’re great, coz you’re not listening to me now.’

‘Gonna hobble up?’

Oscar laughed. ‘I hear water. You’re either running a bath or having an almighty piss.’

‘Oscar!’ she scolded, ‘a lady passes water, we don’t piss.’

‘No matter how many times i ask you not to pee while you’re on the phone to me, you still do it.’

‘I know you too long to be shy around you.’

‘As long as it stays at number 1 and doesn’t drift into the number 2 zone. I would rather stay where I am if that’s what is the future offer.’

‘What are you rambling about?’ Stef poured a generous amount of bubble bath into the running water, enjoying the sight of it frothing furiously. It was gold and glittery. The glitter didn’t stick but it gave her a golden sheen that looked a little like a tan, depending on the light. 

‘Ok thanks for telling me about your bubble bath.’

Stef gulped, did she actually say that out loud?

‘I would actually love a bubble bath right now, but if I got in, I couldn’t get back out. I need a nurse. Will you wash me, Stef?’

‘I would wash you and leave you sitting in the cold bath water until you wrinkle up like a raisin.’

‘Woah, I’m glad we stayed friends.’

Stef cleared her throat, ‘so I was talking to Darius when I dropped him at the airport.’

‘He get going ok?’

‘I haven’t heard, I assume he got the flight. Anyway, he was a bit annoyed, well, maybe annoyed is not a good word, maybe more disapproving of how you and I dealt with things.’ Oh this was going to be happening now, why did the words keep coming out of her mouth?

‘What things?’

‘You know what I’m talking about,’ Stef lowered her voice, hoping she wouldn’t have to hear this conversation.

‘He brings it up sometimes with me.’

‘I understand why he brought it up when he was a kid, hoping his parent’s would fall in love again and get back together, but why is he brining it all up now?’

‘Would it be something to do with him meeting your...boyfriend.’

‘So you heard. I didn’t know he was coming up, if I did I wouldn’t have invited Jared over.’

‘He high tailed it out of there, Darius said.’

‘Kinda.’

She couldn’t see Oscar shaking his head. 

‘You ok?’ 

‘I’m fine, just feel like my head is spinning around after this weekend. I don’t want to have any more arguments, maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up.’

‘What do you want to know?’

The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t want to ask, did she?

There was silence between them again, she hated this. 

‘Stef?’

‘Nothing, I don’t want to know anything.’

Oscar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I don’t think he’s entirely comfortable with you having an affair with a married man, no, don’t interrupt,’ he started, hearing Stef grumble on her end of the line. ‘The only reason is he doesn’t want to see your name dragged through the mud, that’s all. He wants you to be happy. People are dicks, you know that. Neither of us want to see you hurt by the fall out.’

Fall out, yes, that’s what was coming. She could feel it.

 ‘People should mind their own business.’

‘You’d think! But they don’t. They want to tear us to shreds over shit they don’t understand. You love him?’

‘Yeah,’ there, she admitted it.

‘Then fuck everyone else and what they have to say. Just don’t get caught with him or tell anyone whats going on.’

‘That’s conflicting information, Oscar.’

‘Well, that’s how it’s gotta be when you love someone you know you shouldn’t love.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Does that help?’ Oscar was fidgeting, she could hear him.

‘Yep. Thanks.’

‘You don’t sound convinced.’

‘I’m stripping so I can get into the bath.’

‘Effie!!’ His voice, high pitched and exasperated tone made her laugh. 

‘I’m kidding. Not as if you haven’t seen it all anyway.’

‘Yes, but we are not on video call and that’s not fair.’

‘Stop! Anyway, what’s your plan for the day?’

‘Well, I got some nice photos I’m gonna look at while I’m incapacitated.’

‘Which photos?’ Stef dipped her hand into the hot water, perfect temperature, she would be red as a lobster in there.

‘Just some more old photos I found in the loft. Plenty of you and the band. Baby photos. Some of you on the beach.’

Stef gasped, ‘shiiiiiit, I forgot about those. Can you skip past them?’

‘You know, maybe I should, you were only about 17 in them.’

‘No, I was 18. It was my eighteenth birthday.’

‘Huh,’ Oscar decided, ‘well you’re legal in them, bonus.’

‘I’m ending this phone call,’ Stef laughed. ‘Please don’t sell those photos to the press.’

‘Your nudes would make me a rich man, Effie!’

‘Goodbye, Oscar!’

‘Goodbye, love.’ 

Dipping into the water, Stef felt the stress lifting a little. Silence drifted into the space around her, the whorls of scented steam shielding her from the world. 

Her fingers, as they always seemed to do these days, ran down her stomach, stopping when they reached between her legs.

That day at the beach had been sexy as fuck, although she had forgotten about it almost completely. 

Oscar had taken pictures of her, with her permission. They had been joking about in the dunes having left their son with his grandparents. After posing for a few shots, Stef decided to be daring and took off her bikini. There was no one around, why not?

It was only afterwards she realised how many photos Oscar had taken. They had looked back on the once after. It was hot. At least Oscar thought so. That was the only time she had ever allowed anyone to take her photo while she was naked. 

The thoughts of him looking at them now had her fingers dipping inside herself. Her orgasm coming faster than ever before. ‘Goddamn it, Oscar.’ Stef sank lower into the water. 

[erintoknow]

“Fine, woman, have your secrets”

more fallen hero:rebirth fanfic, set pre-Heartbreak. so, chargestep... fluff??

Julia’s pulling at your arm, dragging you after her through the apartment complex. She has this huge shit-eating grin on her face and despite your best efforts it’s hard not to feel it too. “I can’t believe you did that!” You hiss at her.

“I can’t believe I did that!” Julia comes to a stop in front of what you assume is her apartment door and pulls you into a hug.

You squirm in her arms, pushing her off you. “You’re the Marshal! You can’t punch out your boyfriend!”

“I think this technically makes him an ex-boyfriend now.” She sorts through her pockets, looking for keys.

“This isn’t a joke!”You press a hand to your temple, willing yourself to stay mad.

Ortega at last finds her keyring, slipping a finger through the metal loop and flipping the keys through the air with an entirely unneeded flourish before unlocking the door and pushing it open. “Ladies first,” she says, ushering you inside. You hesitate, glancing at her. Julia’s been trying to invite you over for ages now and you’ve always managed to wriggle your way out of it. Was this whole thing really her way of pressing the issue? No, no. Julia can be craftier then you give her credit for sometimes but well… it’s not like she’s you. You return Ortega’s grin with a nervous smile of your own and step inside. Julia follows behind you, pulling the door shut.

Julia’s apartment isn’t terribly extravagant, there’s a living space with a couch, coffee table, and TV, a kitchenette to your immediate left as you walk in. Behind the TV the massive glass window gives a view of the skyscrapers that make up the heart of the city. “Welcome home,” she says, “there’s the fridge over there,” she gestures with her free hand as she locks the door, “help yourself to whatever.”

“Um… sure, thanks.” You answer, feeling a little small. Everything looks so clean, and new, and the difference between the lives of Julia Ortega and Ariadne Becker have never felt quite so stark before.

If Julia notices your cowed reaction, she doesn’t let on. That’s either uncharacteristically polite of her or she legitimately doesn’t notice. You’re not sure which you’d prefer.

“What on earth possessed you to punch that poor man?” You stick to a safe question.

Julia avoids you gaze, walking past the kitchen counter to what you assume is her bedroom. “Don’t you worry about it,” she pauses, then adds “he had it coming anyway.”

“Doesn’t he have like…” you falter for a moment, “many dollars?”

She looks back at you, amused, then gestures at the Ranger uniform she’s wearing. “I’m going to put some normal clothes on, no peeking okay?” She laughs as if this is the funniest thing in the world and shuts the bedroom door.

You roll your eyes and bury your head in her fridge. “Wouldn’t dream of it, you old hag.”

Through the door you hear a muffled “I heard that!”

“Good! I’d hate to think an old woman like you already needs hearing aides!”

You pull a can of cheap bear out of the fridge, and then on second thought, grab another for Ortega, leaving them both out on the counter. Hanging on the wall across from you is a collection of framed photographs. Most of the faces you don’t recognize. Friends? Family? Is this what real– what normal people decorate their homes with? You can’t help but feel a little pang of jealousy. Odd, you don’t find any pictures of her boyfriend, or maybe, that’s not so strange? You don’t really know how this kind of thing works.

Her newest boyfriend is this blue-eyed blond-hair corporate sponsored hero, and like all corp heroes he looks like he came straight off the rack of central casting. The two of them met on the job, because of course, and corp-man had ideas about ways the Rangers could shore up their finances.

You’ve made a pointed effort not to learn or remember the man’s name.

Julia steps out of her bedroom, looking much more at home in a pair of slacks and a tank top. To your surprise her braid is undone, hair looking wild and free as it trails down her back. You toss her one of the beers, “Thanks,” she catches it and cracks it open.

You grab the other can and join her on the couch. “Are you going to tell me why you socked your boyfriend in the face?”

“Damian is a pendejo.”

You give Julia a look. “I’ve been telling you that for weeks. Hell, Steel of all people told you that.”

Julia groans and stares at the ceiling, “Yeah, but… I thought I could put up with it at least until the sponsorship deal was signed. But then tonight right after you left he…”

“He what, Ortega?” You press.

“Oh, you’ll just get mad if I tell you.”

You huff. “Well gee, Ortega, now I’m just mad without knowing why I’m–”

She waves a hand to cut you off. “It doesn’t matter what he said, I’m done with him.”

You sigh, the static hum of Julia’s mind betraying nothing of what went on in the entire minute between you leaving Ranger HQ and Julia bursting out after you, grabbing your arm, and yelling for you to run for it. “Fine, woman, have your secrets.”

“Thank you. I don’t want to think about that jerk right now,” She drains the rest of her beer, dropping the empty can on the coffee table. Julia makes a face like she just drank something foul. “I’m already going to have be kissing asses all week to make up for this.”

“How inconsiderate of him, really.”

“I know!”

With that line of inquiry out of the running, you let the awkward silence fill the air between the two of you. You shift in your seat to stand up, only to find Julia’s hand on your sleeve, trying to pull you back down.

“Hey, don’t go. Not yet.”

Something in her voice makes you stop, frozen in mid-rise. “Are you-“

“Pizza!” Julia pumps a fist in the air, “we should order a pizza and watch a movie!”

You sit back down.

It’s one in the morning when the credits for James Cameron’s Apollo 13 finally roll. Two empty pizza boxes lay open on the floor, and enough empty cans of beer (most of it Julia’s doing) that you don’t want to count them. The Coffee table has been pushed out of the way, against the wall so you can Julia can sit on the floor, backs against the couch like the pair of delinquent teenagers you must definitely are not.

Julia stretches her arms, arcing her back as she raises her fists into the air. “Wow, that was pretty good with the special effects and all.”

You look away from her, suddenly, painfully aware of how you don’t have any right to be here. “I can’t believe they got actual footage.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Julia giving you a strange look. “What do you mean?”

You can feel the heat in your face, instantly aware you’ve said something wrong but helpless to do anything but see it through. “The-the one scene on the moon?”

Julia stares at you for a moment longer than bursts out laughing. “It’s science-fiction you dummy!” She lightly jabs you in the arm as you sink down to the floor, face burning. “No one’s ever actually gone to the moon!” She cackles.

You can feel a knot in your gut, you’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up and now they’ll all know. They’ll know your fraud and a liar and they’ll turn you back over and you’re going to lose everything and she’ll hate you forever and–

“Hey, hey, Ari? You okay?” Julia’s hand is on your shoulder, shaking you gently. The laughter is gone, replaced with a look of concern, and that almost scares you more.

You rub your eyes, “it’s fine, I’m fine,” you lie. You shrug off Ortega and push yourself back up right. You take the chance to get up and stretch your legs, gather up the garbage, pull your face back into a neutral expression. 

Julia stifles a yawn and runs her hands through her hair, trying to gather it into strands, but not quite getting it. “Damn,” Julia giggles, “I’m drunk as hell.”

You put on a concerned frown, eager to let things move to a new topic. “What are you trying to do?”

Julia tries to cross two handfuls of hair, “Gotta - mierda! - gotta braid my hair before I go to bed or it’ll be a mess; tomorrow’s going to be bad enough. Bunch of whiny punk-ass–” Julia descends into a stream of slurred curses in Spanish.

You take a seat on the couch as Julia tries to loop two strands of hair around a third, one slips out of her hands and she has to start over. She hisses.

You watch her struggle. “Do you need to do this right now? This is painful to watch. And maybe a little sad.”

Julia stops fussing with her hair to turn and look at you. She looks like she’s about to say something, but doesn’t. Then a sly smirk spreads across her face and Julia silently scoots on the floor over to you. “Oh yeah? You think you can do better?” She turns her back to you, resting her head on her hands. “Put that master mind of yours to work girl.” He voice is light, slightly slurred. 

You stare at the back of her head. 

A moment passes.

Then another.

Finally, Julia asks, “Uh… Ari, you still there?”

“I’m working on it!” You snap. Part of you feels like you’ll be struck by lightning if you touch her, a fear that, with the hero Charge is perhaps not entirely unjustified. “I’m just… trying to figure it out–“

“What, didn’t your mom teach you?” Her tone is light, joking, but you can’t read her mind and now with her back to you, you can’t even read your face. You feel like you’ve be stranded in a minefield. You can’t tell her this is the longest your own hair has ever been, and you absolutely can’t tell her you’ve never had a mother. You never learned this at the Farm, why would you? You weren’t playing any women roles.

Julia has this aggravating habit of pushing at the edges of your Ariadne persona without even realizing it. Now Ariadne has a favorite color, hates the rain, has a preferred taco truck, even a sense of style, if barely. All these little details you never imagined being important. You like Anathema, she gets it. Neither of you need to pry about the other in order to enjoy the other’s company.

But unlike the rest of the Rangers, Julia can never take no for answer. Never leave well enough alone. Hell, your morning routine has tripled in length now that you actually care what you face looks like, now that you have a face even. So how does Ariadne handle this? Ariadne wouldn’t be scared of touching someone else’s hair right? She fights monsters on a daily basis. 

You must have taken too long to respond because Julia’s right hand reaches back and catches your own. “Look, it’s dead easy, I’ll walk you through it.” 

And she does, letting go of your hand as she walks you through it, step by step. She is right, it is dead easy, once you have the hang of it.

You cross the lefthand strand over the middle, then the righthand over both of them.

This is just some… perfectly normal bonding thing, that perfectly normal human women do.

Left over middle, right over middle.

And you’re not some imposter, you’re just… a friend taking care of a friend.

When you finish, Julia grabs an elastic band off the coffee table and slips it on to keep the end of her braid in place. She leads back and you have to quickly shift your legs so her head doesn’t end up between your thighs. “Hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Damian really sucked.”

“You don’t say,” your tone carefully diplomatic.

“And then what he called you-” You go stock still. Oblivious, Julia clenches her hand into a fist. Little blue sparks crawl out of her palm and down her arm. “I just got so mad and,” She punches the air in front of the two of you, electricity discharges from her fist to the metal rim of the coffee table with a faint zap! sound.

Julia tilts her head back up at you, her face more than a little flush. It’s too much, you have to look away. “But you know what I think?” She winks at you.

“You’re drunk, Ortega.” You caution her. Maybe if you were a real woman you would know how to handle this? How does Julia always manage to get you into the most awkward situations? Why you do you keep letting this woman keep do this to you?

Julia reaches a hand up to your face but you bat it away. “I think you’re very pretty,” she says. Something impossible snaps inside your chest.

“You’re drunk, Ortega.” You insist, suddenly feeling very tired.

[xukunstellation]

Fantasy Fest Series: Demon of Mine || Bu Fan [Demon!AU]

Credit to @buyuefan for the gif, which sparked inspiration for this fic!

Title: Demon of Mine Pairing: Reader x Bufan Genre: Witch!AU + Demon!AU + fluff  Word Count: 2,202 words Summary: Magic can be tricky, especially when you accidentally summon a demon into your home.

A/N: My first fic in the Fantasy Fest series! At the time of me writing up this fic, demon!au is currently in the lead in the poll. Who else better to play the role of a demon that Bufan himself? Also, a disclaimer: everything is pretty much more or less fictional. I made up a few things as far as summoning demons go and I also didn’t want anyone to get any ideas, lol. Everything is under the cut because this is the longest fic i’ve ever written I think, oof. Enjoy demon!Bufan! 

Warning: mild cursing, brief mention of blood

ya’ll asked for demon!au

so i gotchu boo

you come from a family of witches 

magic has ran through your family blood line for generations, dating back to the early 1400s

contrary to popular belief, your family did not practice black magic or served the Devil

instead your family used magical skills in order to heal others, even opening an apothecary as a family business

all throughout your life, you loved learning about the functions of different types of herbs and ingredients and using that knowledge to create all types of potions and concoctions 

you also had an affinity for spell-casting and charms

every so often, your parents would go on business trips and travel across realms, bringing back new knowledge of spells and potions that you had never heard of 

sometimes they were gone for months or, rarely, a year

it did feel strange being on your own for long periods of time, but you grew accustomed to it

it also meant you were left in charge of running the apothecary, which you were all too eager for

as you flipped to a page in one of your many ancient potion-books to find the cure for nightshade rash for one of your clients, you scanned the ingredient list and saw that one of the ingredients was virtually illegible due to the fact that the ink was rubbed away over time 

“damn. how am I supposed to make this potion now?” you sighed. “guess i’ll have to ask grandma.”

after closing up the shop so that no customers wandered in, you headed to the back room. shelves lined the walls and were filled with all sorts of magical ingredients, all neatly organized according to their use. the soft sound of the fire crackling under the fireplace and the bubbling of the cauldron hanging above it filled the room. books and papers written in latin littered the tables and floor messily, the aftermath of your charms studying session from earlier

with a flick of your wrist, the books and papers levitated and swirled in the air for a moment before tidying themselves into organized stacks. another flick of your wrist, everything including the furniture moved on their own and cleared the center of the floor

“hm... what was the spell that mom used?” you said to yourself.

you had never summoned your deceased grandmother before, let alone any spirit for that matter. usually it was your mother who did the spirit contacting

looking through a spell book, you stopped at one particular spell and figured this was what you were looking for 

how to summon a loved one

according to the spell, all you had to do was draw a magic circle, provide a drop of blood and say a simple incantation. the circle will automatically summon the one you love, which you figured was your grandmother in this case

sounds easy enough

oh boy were you in for a surprise

you carefully used a piece of white chalk to carefully replicate the image  of a large summoning circle, carefully sketching intricate patterns as you go. facing the fireplace, you slowly inhaled and exhaled, a stream of wind leaving your mouth and extinguishing the flames, turning the room almost pitch black. with that said, you lit a few candles around the circle. gently running your index finger over the other, a small incision appeared. tilting your finger, you let a drop of blood fall into the circle. it was time to start the ritual.

closing your eyes, you channeled all of your energy to your core and began reciting the spell incantation. feeling the magic run through your veins, you felt the air pick up and stir around you, creating a vortex at the center of the circle. shadows danced along the walls to the sound of your chanting that grew in volume with each repetition. the once tiny golden flames were now a roaring, brilliant amethyst. 

your words came to a halt as you finished reciting the spell. the room around you also fell into a complete silence. opening your eyes, you were prepared to greet the spirit of your grandmother

except it wasn’t a spirit

hell (no pun intended) it wasn’t even your grandmother

floating in a fog of purple smoke above the summoning circle was a massive male figure around 6′3′’. his hair was a blood crimson, mirroring his glowing eyes beneath his closed lids. aside from wearing slightly loose black pants and a long trench coat, he was completely shirtless 

(you were lowkey checking out his abs ooh la la)

but what caught you the most off guard was the lilac tint of his skin, the onyx curled horns above his head, deadly talons instead of fingernails, and the powerful presence of obsidian wings that were tattered and torn at the edges and looked at least twice your size

“oh shit i just summoned a demon”

at the sound of your voice, the demon’s eyes snapped open and glared at you with what you believe was murderous intent

fuck

you were going to die tonight 

you were a healer, not a fighter rip you

just as the demon made a move to step out of circle, the spell broke. the magic that kept him afloat disappeared in a flash

causing him to plant face first onto your wooden floor

“....pfffft-”

you knew you probably shouldn’t have found the idea of a potentially dangerous demon in your home funny, but you couldn’t stopped laughing at how someone so scary looking could be so clumsy

meanwhile the demon only winced in pain as he stood back up and rubbed his face before shooting you a look of disbelief

most people would faint, pee their pants, cry, or at least scream in fear at the sight of him

but here you are laughing at him

who tf were you?

“are you done?” he deadpanned after watching you laugh at him for three minutes straight

wiping away a stray tear, you barely managed to settle down and responded, “y-yeah i think i’m good. are you?”

“peachy”

you felt the need to laugh again... until you realized that the spell you used was meant to summon:

a loved one

and it summoned this random demon 

wtf was that supposed to mean

“wait, who the hell are you?” you interrogated

“my name is bufan. i’m a formidable demon of the Underworld!” his loud, deep ass voice boomed before leaning down his height to make eye contact with you

you felt your heart flutter a bit at how close he was

“that’s uh... nice...”

“just... nice....?”

“yeah....”

awkward silence

“so who are you and why did you summon me?” bufan questioned, raising a dark eyebrow at you

“oh! i’m (y/n). i kind of summoned you by accident,” you sheepishly admitted

“how do you accidentally summon a demon?”

“how do you accidentally trip and fall while getting summoned?”

“....”

damn you got him there

“anyway,” you coughed, “all i wanted to do was summon the spirit of my dead grandmother, not a demon. i’m not even sure why the spell summoned you in the first place. not to be rude or anything but can you go back to where you came from? I'm really busy and need to talk to my grandmother so i can start this cure already”

"i can't unless you give me your first born child"

“....say what now”

you gaped at his serious poker face before slowly watching it contort into a shit-eating grin. then he broke into a boisterous laughing fit that shook the whole room with its intensity

you pouted when you realized he was pulling your leg. “this is payback for earlier, isn’t it?”

he calmed himself down to a few chuckles, “i was just trying to break the ice. it’s not every day i get summoned to a cute little witch’s home”

you nearly forgot how much of a smooth talker demons were

blood rushed to your cheeks at his words

definitely not because he called you cute

(it definitely is)

“but i’m telling the truth when i say i can’t exactly go back. that’s not how this spell works. i’m already bounded to you by blood”

you wondered what he meant by ‘not how the spell works’

“the spell book doesn’t say anything about it either,” you sighed. “i guess that means you’re stuck with me for the time being- hey! be careful with that!”

you snatched a bottle of naga venom from bufan who already was snooping around at all of the magical ingredients and things around him

“you’re awfully calm. aren't you afraid i'll take your soul or something?" he says

"bold of you to assume I have a soul"

you were joking of course and he, being a demon, could sense that you indeed did have a soul and grinned at you

“just... try and behave yourself, ok?”

“i’ll be on my best behavior”

bufan was not on his best behavior

you should have known never to trust a demon smh

having bufan around was like taking care of three year old child

he’s constantly asking you questions every time you’re trying to make potions and just genuinely trying to annoy you

“(y/n), what’s that?”

“dragon’s breath”

“and that?”

“alicorn tears”

“this empty jar says teeth. who’s teeth?”

“it’s about to be yours in a second after i punch you in the jaw if you don’t stfu”

“are all you humans so snippy?”

“oh my god”

“more like oh my lucifer amirite”

you were a unicorn’s hair away from hexing him jfc

for someone so big, he was also extremely sneaky and sly

he’s always trying to play pranks on you and using his powers to his advantage

such as using his invisibility to randomly pop in front of you or poke your sides or face when you were doing something

or hiding your phone and other necessities all over the house and sending you on an entire scavenger hunt

despite his childish tendencies, bufan was also quite reliable 

for some reason, he grew to be protective of you although he knew you could protect yourself with your own powers

whenever you traveled home alone at night, he insisted on flying you home on his broad back

which you secretly loved bc flying with bufan was always fun since he would always make it feel like a roller coaster ride by flying in loops and various speeds

there were times where bufan even acted like a mother figure which was both intriguing and terrifying

“(y/n), did you eat yet?”

“no i don’t have any time to-”

*proceeds to make eight different types of meals for you*

in addition, he always had liver medicine on hand and you have no idea how or why???

whenever you were having a bad day, he never hesitated to listen to your problems even if they didn’t apply to him as a demon

over the next few months of bufan living with you, your once quiet and uneventful home was now constantly filled with laughter, annoyed yells, and bustle. you found yourself noticeably happier

but a part of you always wondered if your happiness was only one sided

“bufan,” you called out to him one day while fiddling with your wand

he made a grunting sound from the couch that was situated a few feet from you, indicating that he heard you and was listening

“do you regret being summoned by me?” you nervously asked

no answer

feeling your heart drop when he failed to respond, you assumed the worse and laughed quietly to hide the sadness in your heart

“it’s okay if you do. i wont hold it against you,” you nodded timidly

hearing his footsteps approach you, you faintly remember hearing your wand drop onto the floor before he pulled you close to him

you’ve never felt so tiny oml

“what makes you think i regret being here?” he questioned, clearly confused as to why you were suddenly bringing this up

you shrugged, “i don’t know... i mean, you were kind of forced to. do you miss being on your own?”

“do you?”

it took you a moment to quietly reply, “i’ve gotten used to feeling alone, so if you wanted to leave, i would let you”

bufan could hear the loneliness that lingered at the edge of your words. little did you know, he already knew how much you meant to him from the very first day he met you. there was no way it was an accident. he pulled you tighter to him before kissing the top of your head

“silly little witch. who says i’m going anywhere?”

you tilted your head up at him in surprise, “you’re saying that if you had the chance to leave, you wouldn’t take it?”

“you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to”

and you swear that that was the moment you knew you had fallen for a demon

maybe performing that spell wasn’t a mistake after all

perhaps the universe knew that bufan was meant to be your loved one

because there was no better feeling than always coming home to a certain demon of yours

[itstimetowatch]

Normal is the Watchword

So Veronica is working a normal, almost certainly less potentially lethal job. Makes sense. If my last job had me almost burned alive or killed via smoke inhalation, I probably wouldn’t want to do that job anymore either. However, it was made pretty clear during Season One that Veronica was a fairly vital part of Mars Investigations, that she would often handle a lot of work for her dad while he was out running down bail jumpers. How is Keith managing to either do all of this himself or pay all the bills with a reduced workload? Veronica’s minimum wage plus tip sharing almost certainly isn’t offsetting the work she was doing at Mars Investigations, especially given that Keith ended last season in the hospital.

It feels strange to see Veronica turn down a case. I mean, I can only assume it’s just a tease, but it’s still weird.

So in addition to losing his Nancy Drew, Keith has also spent time away from his detective work writing a book? Like that’s some easy thing to do in one’s spare time? The spare time that a hard working PI obviously has a lot of? Sure, the advance would have potentially been huge (A-list celebrity murderer, sex scandal, institutional incompetence… y’know, all the things that made it a compelling season of television). It would have been huge, that is, if Keith was in any way an established writer, which he wasn’t. Once again, Hollywood writers don’t understand how money works.

Also, there’s no way something like that gets written, edited, and published over the course of a summer.

Does Julie Chen as Herself on a fictionalized episode of her show count as me recognizing a guest star from something else? Feels like a cheat to me.

So it wasn’t Wallace at the door. Why on Earth is Logan not at the hospital?

Did we finally get a name for the bike gang? Did he say PCHers? As in like Pacific Coast Highway? Or does it stand for something else?

Okay, fleeing the scene of a murder? Well, that would certainly be a reason not to go to the hospital but going directly to your girlfriend’s house isn’t the best place to hide. So this is the new season-long mystery, I assume?

Wallace is back to his Afro. I think it’s a better look for him, anyway. And a conspiracy of failed drug tests is the mystery for the episode.

Dick and Beaver are in the main credits? Ugh! You guys could have warned me.

As is Tessa Thompson (from Dear White People and Creed and Westworld and soon to be Thor: Ragnarok), apparently.

So how is Jake allowed to leave town while under indictment? Oh, wait, of course, he’s a billionaire. Nevermind.

So I think Veronica’s being a little self-centered there, thinking she’s the sole reason for Duncan and Logan’s strife. I feel like Logan’s father murdering Duncan’s sister probably plays a slightly larger part in their beef.

So Veronica has given up her life of crime-solving but she still carries around her enormous PI camera, what, just in case?

WHAT? Veronica and Meg are feuding? Over Duncan? *Sigh*

Glad Keith and Alicia are still going strong, though.

Um, nosey-ass Veronica doesn’t know that Clemmons has a son who’s a classmate of hers? That seems unlikely. I mean, I guess he’s an underclassman, a sophomore to Veronica’s senior, but still, he would have been at Neptune last year. Last season, she seemed to know (or at least know of) almost everyone at the school.

“I avoid knowing freshmen” seems fairly arbitrary, but I guess she didn’t know anything about Justin in “Meet John Smith” last year either, so arbitrary or not, it is at least consistent. 

I wouldn’t necessarily expect Veronica to know this but a dose of a drug so small that you never feel the effects of the drug would almost certainly not show up on a drug test.

So is Shelley Pomroy named after a family member of one of the writers or the crew? I only ask because they seem to love mentioning her name without ever actually making her an actual character on the show. I think she’s had one scene during the flashbacks in “A Trip to the Dentist” and she was a non-speaking extra.

This is really early in the episode to have figured out the mystery. Okay, the connection is circumstantial right now, but this isn’t a procedural show, it’s a mystery show. Once the mystery is solved, then you have a limited amount of time that you can continue the story before it becomes tedious. Are we going to spend fifteen minutes of episode working on the season-long mystery? And if Logan’s already cleared, isn’t it a job for Sheriff Shithead?

So, Class Warfare has now turned into Actual Warfare over the summer? Well, that’s… terrifying.

That is Charisma Carpenter as (one assumes) Dick and Beaver’s step-mom? Or their dad’s girlfriend or something?

Okay, so they played the pronoun game with Veronica’s love life to avoid revealing that Veronica is back with Duncan rather than Logan, okay fine, but now that previous scene with Veronica and Wallace seems a lot harsher in hindsight. Duncan missed the first day of school to go visit his father (who’s presumably in some white collar jail because his lawyers negotiated him a sweetheart deal). Veronica and Wallace said they didn’t understand why he would want to do that, because they were trying to imply that they were talking about Logan and his dad, who slept with and then murdered his girlfriend, as opposed to Duncan and his father, who attempted to cover up said murder because he thought he was protecting his son from prison or an institution. See the difference?

And it’s Krysten Ritter! From Breaking Bad and Jessica Jones.

Why is Logan getting defensive about the fact that someone has already been killed in this clash of classes? It wasn’t an 09er who died.

What has this bus trip got to do with anything? Did they forget they were an hour long show and suddenly write a half hour worth of material? They’ve worked out the mystery. The bad guys have been caught. What’s going on?

Steve Guttenberg? Where on Earth did they find him?

Where was this field trip to? Last season Neptune was right outside of San Diego which (at the time) had the Padres, an MLB team which was name-checked often last season. Now they’re visiting a team called The Sharks at what appears to be a really nice stadium. This is no minor league team… especially not in the immediate suburbs of the major league club’s hometown.

So is this meant to be, like, LA? But then Guttenberg is running for mayor of Neptune? This all makes no sense.

And what does any of this have to do with anything?

Also, Krysten Ritter as the vapid, girly girl? HA!

A fortune cookie? That’s what wins Veronica over?

And they have to stop for gas? In a school bus? That is designed to drive all over town, making frequent stops? Where the hell is this baseball stadium and how does the team owner get to run for mayor of Neptune if he doesn’t live or work in Neptune? I mean, I guess technically he doesn’t have to live near the stadium to own the team, but in most cases, the owner is expected to be a frequent fixture at team’s home games.

Um, Lilly’s ghost? Okay, first of all, they wrapped her story up at the end of the last episode. Is she going to keep showing up?

Ah, Weevil’s not too pissed at her. You’re still a good man, Eli.

Um, holy shit!

Okay, so that’s was the point of the bus trip. It still had nothing to do with anything else in the episode. 

I don’t know about Veronica’s comment that nothing happens by accident in Neptune. I mean, just off the top of my head it’s a lucky accident for Aaron that the Kanes thought Duncan killed Lilly and covered up Aaron’s murder for him. I take the comment to mean that this is also going to be an ongoing investigation this season.

This episode is very poorly constructed. Like they should have established the field trip much sooner, and honestly, it really should have been the entire plot this episode (or at least the frame on which to hang all of the flashbacks) and then save the Wallace’s Failed Drug Test plot next episode that way you get at least episode out of the “I’m not a detective anymore” storyline, instead of having her give in immediately. 

As is there are two distinct parts to this episode and they are completely at odds tonally and content-wise. It’s really jarring and after having finished it, the first two-thirds of the episode now feels almost completely irrelevant… which, generally speaking, is a bad thing, especially for season premieres.

Also, the thing where Lilly’s ghost saved Veronica’s life? Veronica had several interactions with Lilly’s ghost last season but it was always either a dream or it was a fairly obvious manifestation of her subconscious. It’s never provided her information she didn’t already know, so this is weird and inconsistent. I mean, she could have just looked out the window, seen Weevil for herself, and then decided to go talk to him.

Then there’s the whole Veronica/Meg thing. I loathe with the power of a thousand blazing suns the tired cliche of female friends fighting over a boy. First of all, I don’t buy it from Meg. She started dating Duncan when he was Veronica’s ex without so much as an “Are you okay with this?” and now I’m supposed to think that she’s going to pull this on Veronica? Secondly, I don’t really buy Veronica trying this hard to make things okay between them again. That’s not really her thing. This all feels like out of character behavior to create forced drama just as an excuse to keep Meg on the bus... because apparently, Veronica can’t have female friends. (I mean, seriously, Dick and Beaver are fulltime but not Mac?)

Is Tessa Thompson going to be the next version of Miss Dent? The black woman whose name is in the credits but almost never actually appears in the show?

[kdinthecity]

Confessions of a Teenage Sugar Queen: In Other News

This is for @zutaraweek​ Day Five: Modern Times

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Zuko and I fall into a comfortable pattern of casual conversation in the car, a productive partnership at work, and the occasional night “out” at Mushi’s. He puts on an unconvincing act like his uncle annoys him, but I can tell they are close. Whatever Zuko doesn’t say out loud, I can easily read on his face. Details behind those expressions are lacking, of course.

Certain topics are off limits—like what happened with his father or that night in Iroh’s apartment. I let down my guard in sharing about my mom, but I’m putting it back up until it’s clear what direction we’re headed with all this. It's easy to talk to Zuko, but trusting him is a different matter entirely.

The first warning comes from Yue. She reassigns Hahn to the education position, and I assume it's because she is tired of his constant flirting. But then she starts spending more time in her office, making hushed phone calls behind closed doors. I imagine some intriguing behind-the-scenes action—like they’ve discovered the elusive tiger-seal (a creature from my stories) and finally receive the national attention they deserve for their hard work.

I often use fiction to escape my reality. Why do I feel this sudden urge to write?

I panic when Yue calls me into her office. She’s caught me daydreaming again. Or she’s seen me staring at Zuko’s ass. She’ll reprimand me for being so distracted all the time and probably reassign me, too. I prepare a report about some unusual findings Zuko and I discovered in one of the plankton samples as proof we work well together. I’m ready with my notes and everything.

“Katara, how are things going with Zuko?” she asks.

“F-f-fine, I guess. Er—great.” I didn’t expect that question, exactly.

She eyes the papers in my hands, the ones I'm flipping through nervously. “You… guess?“

“We’re good partners.” Ugh, I hate that I’m blushing right now. “In the lab, I mean. We get a lot done.”

Yue nods slowly in the way that grownups usually do when they have something they don’t want to say. “That’s good. So… you don’t feel… threatened… in any way?”

Blindsided again. What the hell does she mean by that?

I try to pick up my jaw and answer quickly. I don’t want my silence to raise any suspicions. “Threatened by Zuko? No, not at all.”

“Have you received threats from anyone else?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”

“I don’t mean to scare you, Katara, but some threats have been made around here recently. If you ever feel unsafe or uncomfortable, will you please let me know as soon as possible?”

“Of course.”

“And… be careful. Zuko’s situation is… complicated.”

When I piece this conversation together with what I overheard between Zuko and Yue that one day, my best guess is that Mr. Kasai gives a lot of money to the Marine Center. And when things don’t go his way, he may use his power to pressure them. If Zuko’s face is any indicator, then I have no doubt his father would make threats… and follow through with them.

But what does this have to do with me?

My second clue arrives through a series of messages from Azula. She says I should stop seeing her brother, that their father disapproves, that if Zuko stays with me, then he will pay…

First of all, we are not together!

Wait. Am I the reason he…

I was with him that night.

Oh shit.

I have to know for sure.

Except Zuko is acting… weird. He’s more relaxed and happier than I’ve ever seen him. There may even be a hint at a sense of humor trying to break through his surly outer shell. Iroh has noticed the change, too, and calls it a “metamorphosis.” Zuko says he resents being compared to a butterfly and tells his uncle to “bug off.”

Did I say sense of humor? More like lame attempts at making jokes.

I laugh anyway. He lights up when I do. Like a... firefly?

Damn, he’s gorgeous.

There is no way in hell I’m bringing up that stuff about his father now.

Iroh invites Gran Gran and me to a July Fourth barbecue on the beach. Normally Dad and Sokka would come home for the holiday, but those storms swept northward and disrupted their travel plans. As consolation, I’ve been promised a HUGE party to celebrate my 16th birthday in August. To be honest, I’d be OK with a small family gathering. And Zuko. Maybe Mushi, too.

Speaking of, that man loves parties.

While Ozai practically owns half of the bayside resort property on Ember Island, his brother opted for a vacation home and a strip of private beach along the Pacific coast instead. This area is much better for surfing, but no one brought any gear today. Gran Gran enjoys chatting with Iroh’s friends, Jeong Jeong, Bumi, and Piandao. There are a few people I recognize from the restaurant—an employee or two, and a repeat customer I often see there. A young girl, maybe four or five years old, flits about the adults vying for attention. Coincidentally, she's wearing a pair of costume butterfly wings.

I survey the perfect waves and lament not having a surfboard.

“You just want an excuse to get me in a wet suit,” Zuko says.

“Was that… another joke?”

“You know me, Katara. I don’t joke.”

His face is passive, but golden eyes flash with bridled laughter. There is only one thing I can do to unleash it.

Tickle him.

“Nephew, why don’t you show Katara the tide pools?”

At first I think Iroh makes the suggestion because he disapproves of our touchy-feely ticklefest which involves tackling each other and rolling around in the sand. But after the short hike to the tide pools, I wonder if he was actually encouraging us. We are now enclosed in a small private cove.

Zuko laughs. “Uncle knows that low tide was hours ago.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, you can’t really see anything right now. If he intended for me to show you the marine life and all, then…”

We both know it was a setup, but I’m the first to make a move. I lace my fingers with his and wait to release the breath I’m holding. He does that shuddery sigh thing, like he’s relieved. And then he squeezes my hand.

“Could you tell me about it at least?” I lean into his shoulder and decide to breathe again.

“Uhh—“ He swallows. “Organisms that survive here must be able to withstand harsh conditions. The environment is constantly changing with the tides, but a unique biodiverse ecosystem has adapted to thrive.”

He gets a poke in the ribs for that. “Thank you, Wikipedia.”

He grabs my other hand to ward off the attack—or maybe to pull me closer. “I had the education position at the Marine Center, remember?”

I’m facing him now, and a heat rises between us. I’m feeling bold enough to close the gap and trap it. I’m already enslaved by the intensity of his gaze.

“Yes sir, Professor Kasai.”

He freezes.

He only steps a few feet away, but he’s as distant as the offshore waves. He’s watching them, too, but without really seeing them. There is something with him and the water—while I feel connected to it, he’s haunted by it.

“My mom loved the ocean,” he says suddenly.

The space he left behind is now cold—empty. It takes me a while to recover, to respond. “That’s something we have in common."

At this, Zuko smiles. “She would like you.”

Some warmth returns, but I'm still uncertain. “Oh. I meant… my mom loved the ocean, too.”

“Ocean secret, vast and blue

Ebbs and flows, beneath the moon,

Rise and fall, crashing blue spirit

Whispers on waves, can you hear it?”

“That’s… beautiful,” I say.

“She wrote poetry… about a lot of things, but her favorite was the sea.”

My heart is racing again, but for a different reason this time. “That’s something else we have in common.”

“What’s that?”

“My mom was a writer, too. She was an investigative reporter for The Modern Times. She wrote mostly stuff about the environment, so our work at the Marine Center reminds me a lot of her.”

“That’s so cool, Katara. She would be very proud of you.”

“She got her first big break on the oil spill in Alaska. That was before she met Dad. She dug so deep into the corporate scandal that even years later, they had to move because of safety. Of course, that didn't keep her from doing the same thing here."

"What happened to her?"

"We don't really know. She was on assignment in Death Valley. Her editor suspected foul play... but there was never any proof."

Zuko goes pale. Paler than pale. Paler than I thought possible. "D-d-death Valley?"

If Zuko’s ghosts are whispers in the waves, then mine are mirages in the desert. "Yeah. I know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"It's getting late. We should start heading back."

It's not late, but I've obviously said too much… again. I never talk about this with anyone, and I promised myself I wouldn’t be so vulnerable with Zuko. But he’d opened up about his mom... a little. Maybe something bad happened to her, too.

Zuko avoids me for the rest of the day. He uses the excuse that he needs to help his uncle with the food... and then the cleaning… and setting up for fireworks...

At dusk, they disappear. I watch Gran Gran play a complicated board game called Pai Sho with Piandao. When we settle on the beach for the show, Iroh’s youngest visitor unexpectedly plops down in my lap. I catch a whiff of something familiar, something comforting...

Moon peaches.

"Hi, I'm Kiyi," she announces, leaning against my chest and looking up at me with curious golden eyes.

“Hi, I’m Katara,” I answer slowly. “Where is your—“

“I love the fire in the sky!” she squeals as the first bottle rocket takes flight. “Uncle does the best fireworks ever!”

I’m not sure which adult the girl came with since I haven’t been introduced to everyone at the party. I can guess by her looks that she’s related to the Kasai family somehow, but it’s the way she says Uncle that sounds…

Just like Zuko.

Per the norm, the next time I’m in Zuko’s car, we act like nothing ever happened—the almost-kiss, the cold shoulder followed by moments of deep connection complete with a poetry performance.

Nevermind all that. I have more pressing questions. "Who is Kiyi?"

"I don't know. Uncle adopts practically everyone and calls them family. He already thinks of you as his niece.” Zuko immediately turns bright red and coughs. “Kiyi is sweet, but hella stubborn."

Just like Zuko. "Are you sure you're not related?"

"Maybe? Like distant cousins or something?"

"Does Iroh have any kids?"

"His son died in the war."

I apparently have a talent for finding the most sombre subjects. Either that, or there is no end to Zuko's family drama. "Oh. Sorry."

"What's this all about anyway?"

"She told me about the blue spirit."

Aaaaaaaand cue the switch from deep red to paler than pale as the color drains from Zuko’s face. "That's... well, anyone could say that. It wouldn't be the first time something supernatural was attributed to the sea. Take... Poseidon for example."

"Or Tui and La." I wait for the furrowed brow to follow.

And... check. “Who, what now?” he asks.

“Your mom’s poem reminded me of the moon and ocean spirits, Tui and La. It’s a belief my ancestors in Alaska held, a harmonious push-and-pull relationship to keep the world in balance.”

“Sounds like the tides.”

“Exactly.”

Here comes the part where he sighs dramatically, but I have no idea what he'll say next.

“It’s just another way to explain what we don’t understand. What we cannot control.”

Hmm, interesting. “Isn’t that what spirituality does?" I muse aloud. "Help us make peace with those things? Like death, for example.”

I am NOT speaking from experience because if I’m honest with myself, I am far from making peace with my mother’s death. If he has any insight, I'm all ears.

“I… don’t know.”

I don’t know, either, but I wish I did... for the both of us.

I spend another day at the Marine Center in a complete state of distraction. After this, Yue will undoubtedly reassign me to the dreaded job of cleaning up seal shit. She alternates between giving me looks of warning and pity, so I’m still not sure what to make of our conversation or anything else that's transpired since then.

I'm going to ask Zuko about it. Point blank. He'll probably turn a ghastly shade I haven't seen, yet. But it's better than black and blue, if his father really is making threats.

But when we head back to his uncle's restaurant after work, we don't slip into our usual booth near the back. I follow Zuko past the kitchen to the stairs that lead up to Iroh’s apartment. We haven't been here alone together since that night, and all of those sensations return to me as if that moment is suspended in time. I’m looking at the face of someone who’s been beaten, and all I want to do is kiss the pain away. I won’t reopen those wounds—not now, not ever.

Zuko is not one for dwelling in the past, though. He doesn’t skip a beat as he leads me down the hallway, and I think maybe we're going to his room. My brain and pulse race with curiosity—of the possibilities—but he stops short of the doorway and points at something on the wall.

My breath catches. It’s a framed newspaper article from The Modern Times, dated May 2009, the same year my mom died.

The headline reads, "No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are." I skim down to the byline at the bottom. "Professor Kasai teaches English composition at Atlas University."

Zuko's mom taught at AU? And she wrote for The Modern Times, too?

"When I worked for my dad last summer, I found some of Mom’s files," Zuko explains. "I knew she wrote a few articles, but I didn't know Uncle had this until I started staying here recently.”

"Do you think our moms knew each other? It's a big newspaper, but maybe—"

"Was your mom The Painted Lady?"

I stop breathing altogether. "What?"

He runs a hand through his hair like he does when he's nervous. "Was that her...pen name... or whatever?"

It was a reference to war paint and a tribute to our tribal heritage. "Yes. Why?"

"Then I need to show you something."