oliverkilljoy

[phant0mth1ef]

the feeling that i’m losing her, forever.

bakugou katsuki x childhood friend hcs! pt 2

- you’d both met in kindergarten when you had complimented his quirk which had just manifested, and in return, he asked to see yours.

- your quirk wasn’t anything too flashy, you could manipulate the terrain beneath you, or anything that was considered part of earth for that matter. (think of toph from atla).

- he straight up told you that your quirk sucked and so you hit him in the head with a rock. he got set to the infirmary and you had a lengthy chat with your principal about why you shouldn’t use quirks on other students.

- sought you out after that encounter because he liked that you weren’t scared or took what he said to heart because you knew you were good.

- even as a kid he was a cocky little shit so you consistently kept him in his place whenever he started his “forward march and here we go!” chant.

- over time, you two simply just stuck by each other because you were almost always in the same class, so you never really had any reason to ignore the boy, and he found himself not completely hating the feeling of having you right by his side.

- in middle school he found out that you put shiketsu instead of ua down as your top school and he threw a fit because he didn’t want to lose one of the things in his life that was consistent and stable, but got over it when you told him that you’d come visit.

- when he got into ua and you got into shiketsu, your parents joined together and had a celebratory dinner for you both, and he could swear he had never been happier than that moment.

- when your family had to move so you could go to shiketsu, the boy went over and pretended he wasn’t about to cry because truth be told, you were his best friend.

- at first, you’d both called each other almost every night to gain daily updates on how your new lives were treating you, and it was something bakugou had looked forward to after having to deal with those extras all day.

- the first time you guys didn’t check up on each other was the same night that the usj had been attacked by the league of villains, something that you had seen on the news as you immediately dialed up your friend, who texted you that he was just too tired to talk right now.

- the second time was after ua’s sports’ festival, when you called to congratulate him and he just completely ignored the call, no explanation as to why, just instantly getting sent to voicemail.

- you pretended like you didn’t care, obviously you knew he was busy and that he probably just didn’t have the time in between classes and trainings, but then again, you were doing the same things and making time for him, why couldn’t he do the same for you.

one time he accidentally butt dialed you before class had started and when you picked up you could hear the bustling nature and conversations going on in his classroom, the sound of the boy pulling out his seat and sitting down was heard.

“hello? katsuki?” no response.

you recognized izuku’s voice coming into earshot.

“kacchan, i’ve been meaning to ask. how’s y/n doing?” the boys positive attitude even conveyed itself through the phone as you waited to hear how bakugou would respond, because truth be told, you had a major crush on your best friend.

“i dunno.” and you could hear him taking a bite of something, like an apple or something crunchy.

“y/n?! if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you had a girlfriend bakugou!” an unrecognizable voice boomed through your headphones.

“s’not the case. she’s just a friend. i don’t like her like that. always callin’ me and shit, gets annoyin’ y’know?” he grunted as the sound of your bell ringing had filled your ears, you quickly hung up and turned off your phone. pretending that what just happened didn’t sting a bit.

- from there you stopped calling him so much, figuring that if he wanted to talk, he’d call you up first.

- eventually you stopped talking altogether because you stopped starting the conversations, refusing to make him feel as if he had to talk to you.

- bakugou of course was unfortunately a firm believer of “the phone works both ways,” so he never decided to start a conversation up either. matter of fact he refused to ever think of hovering his finger over your contact, instead opting to just tell kirishima about his thoughts.

- when ua moved into the dorms, bakugou had a bulletin board filled up with a variety of different things that seemed so out of character for him, like pictures of him as a kid, pictures of his family, newspaper clippings from the sports’ festival, and a few select pictures of you both through the years.

- the first time kirishima was let into the blonde boy’s room, it was like the first thing his eyes locked onto as he sat down at bakugou’s desk, seeing a genuine smile on his friends face.

“who’s that?” his voiced laced with curiosity as he unpinned the picture, taking it down to show his friend.

“eh? friend of mine.” his reply was short and concise, as if he didn’t want to talk about it. so kirishima just pinned the photo back up, and looked at the rest that littered his wall.

a picture of you both at your kindergarten graduation, a few candid pictures from grade school, and a picture of just you from middle school graduation, but you can tell bakugou took it because a tuft of the spiky blonde hair hung in front of the camera lens and left only half your face visible.

kirishima had to stifle his laugh when he saw a childhood picture of you and bakugou playing in a sandbox, the boy getting sand thrown into his face, and on the back of the photo read “katsuki’s first friend!” clearly something mitsuki had done for him.

- he felt his breath getting separated from his body when he saw you stepping off the bus at the provisional licensing exam, your shiketsu cap taunting him, teasing what could’ve been.

- of course he didn’t miss how your second year classmates all walked with you huddled between them, they’d known of your foul relationship with someone from ua, and as the one of the only first years that were attending the exam from shiketsu, they felt as if they had to protect you.

“oh, look kacchan! she’s here.” midoriya was excited, because after all, you were his friend as much as you were bakugou’s.

“i know.” and that was all he said before angrily walking off, he saw your phone in your hand, he knew it still worked.

he was acting as if he didn’t miss you. and even if his eyes lit up as you essentially dominated the piece of earth terrain, he’d never admit that he wanted his best friend back by his side.

“seiji was eliminated? no way!” you spoke to inasa after the first part of the exam, true disappointment in your voice as you found out bakugou had eliminated your classmate.

“he likes you, y’know.” inasa’s voice was naturally loud, so you weren’t shocked when people’s heads begun to turn at the sound of romance in the air.

“who?”

“shishikura.” all inasa wanted was for his friend to gain the girl he’d been pining for since the first day of school, even if his friend was a certified dick to some people.

katsuki hadn’t once bothered to look your way since you’d gotten to the exam site, but his knuckles were turning white as they gripped the table in front of him.

he didn’t realize it, but he had lost you a long time ago back when he had called you annoying.

[yawnderu]

"Quit lookin' at me like that." He demands, accent growing thicker by the minute at his frustration.

"Like what?" You manage to gasp out, cheeks swollen and bloody at the beating you just took. Your hands are clasped together on your lap, forced to sir on your knees as you look up at him.

What stared back at you wasn't your loving Simon, no— this creature was much different. Ghost was glaring down at you, eyes cold and devoid of emotion other than pure, raw anger.

"Like a fuckin' lost puppy. Like you don't know what you did." His grip on the trigger tightens, holding the muzzle to your temple.

Please, tell me it isn't true. For the love of God, tell me it's all a lie.

"You leaked our information to fuckin' Konni?" He asks in disbelief, just wanting to confirm what he knew all along. It all connected once he found out; the late night escapades, the detached look in your eyes, how you kept missing every single celebration with the team claiming you were busy. Maybe if he noticed sooner, things would have been different.

Your silence and the way your head hangs low in shame is all the confirmation he needs. His gloved hand grips the pistol harder, the rough material almost merging with his skin.

You don't even have the courage to look at me.

"Everythin' we did together... I trusted you with my bloody life. I told you all my secrets and let you see all of me, and this is how you fuckin' pay me?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, three silenced gunshots ringing in his ears as he dumps the bullets into your chest, looking away before he hears the familiar thud of a body hitting the ground.

Goddammit. God damn it all to fucking hell.

Simon chokes on a harsh breath, the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown underneath his balaclava, jaw slackening. He doesn't dare look at you, unwilling to let his last image of you be a pool of blood with dead eyes.

He cried all his tears when he was a little kid, yet he can somehow feel the familiar sting in his eyes, causing him to sigh loudly and shake his head. His pistol goes back in its holster as he turned to leave, not sparing you a single glance.

Dying alone is a scary thought. You come to the world in a room full of people, your mother's happy face looking at her own creation, nurses and doctors smiling and celebrating you even when all your tiny body can do is to cry.

The thought of death isn't what scares you, no. Being a soldier for the special forces only ends two ways: retirement or going home in a box. That's something you came to terms with a long time ago, when your much younger hand held the pen, signing the contract that sold your soul to your comrades, a silent eternal promise of "we fight together, and we die together".

Your shaky hands grasp at the snow as you drag yourself forward, gear all of sudden heavier than ever; crushing you down like Atlas holding the sky. Your blood leaves a dirty trail on the pure, clean snow, marking you down as an easy target if Simon decides to come back for you— you know Ghost won't.

By the time someone manages to find you, your fingers are purple and your lips are painted an awful shade of blue, body adorned with burns from the cold snow digging into your bare skin. You allow yourself to rest as soon as the warmth of someone's hand makes contact with your skin, barely able to register the panicked scream and loud orders being barked.

Labeled as a hero after saving the country from Makarov's terrorist attack, Simon sported a new brand of chest candy on his uniform. Colorful ribbons adorned the right side of his blazer. His chest is still puffed out with pride as he steps into his small flat in London, all memories of you thrown away, including the ring he kept hidden in a drawer.

''Cute shoulder pads.'' Your finger hovers above the trigger, finally stepping out of the dark.

[the-badger-mole]

You know what really irked me, even as a kid watching ATLA? Any time Aang vented about his crush on Katara to anyone, they would pat his head and assure him she would come around eventually. Some even implied since he's the Avatar, she basically has to. No one ever told Aang to maybe respect Katara's boundaries and choices, and not see friendship as a stepping stone to being her boyfriend. That bothered me then, and it bothers me even more now.

It should bother EVERYONE! One of the things I hate about Kataang- the MAIN thing I hate about Kataang- is how little Katara matters in the relationship. She is Aang's prize. Whatever she might actually want for herself is irrelevant. I hate how little care was given into Katara's side of this relationship. It was so poorly developed that when pressed, the only examples of Katara's feelings being more than friendship are that last scene in "The Fortuneteller", which has Katara literally only considering Aang for half a second because someone outside of herself pointing out that he was a powerful bender, and then never mentioning it again, or that scene in "The Headband", which has Katara giving Aang bedroom eyes FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE, but again, not talking about it or giving him any actual signal that she wants to pursue something with him. I'm convinced the only reason those scenes exist is because Bryke were just aware enough of how romance should be structured that they knew that Katara should have some sort of participation in the romance. Too bad they didn't care enough about her feelings to actually center her feelings.

Meanwhile, Aang's feelings get explored, discussed (with everyone EXCEPT Katara) and validated. We can't NOT know how he feels. The reason all those people reassuring Aang that he'll get Katara is so insidious is because Aang never considers her feelings. He can't even fathom her turning him down. It never crosses his mind that her answer might be no. That she has the right to say no. So when she says no in EIP (and it was a no. If👏🏿 it's👏🏿 not👏🏿 a👏🏿 yes, 👏🏿it's👏🏿 a 👏🏿no👏🏿), Aang can't respect that boundary. He stomps over that boundary because he's the Avatar, and he wants her, so of COURSE she's not going to turn him down. She can't say no to him. And Bryke agree with him! They don't ever address how messed up it was for Aang to kiss Katara without her consent TWICE, and they don't ever address Katara's feelings. Instead they make it so the only charitable explanation for why Katara's feelings changed between EIP and the finale is that she feels like she owes Aang.

She is not romantically interested in Aang until the moment she sees him on stage being hailed as tH3 r3@L h3R0!!!11!!! He was the Avatar she'd been hoping for. He ended the war. He wanted her. Bryke, instead of giving Katara moments of having Aang support her, give emotional validation, or even just helping her with chores without being a baby about it, ignored developing Katara's feelings altogether-ignored the fact that Zuko was right there giving her in like 5 episodes what Ang never gave her in the entire series- in favor of presenting her as a literal prize for their boy.

[tsukimefuku]

content warning: soft Aizawa x Reader, spoilers for season 6 of the anime, hurt and comfort, some fluff, roughly proofread. just a little something to get me off the writing rut. 1.1k

With a long-drawn sigh, Aizawa slouched back into the teacher’s lounge sofa, stretching his own leg forward as he mindlessly covered the eye patch with one of his hands. You wondered if his movement was propelled by a force of habit to scratch his phantom eye.

You had been catching up to speed on all the plans the pro heroes had made for what could only be dubbed as the D day. All the tireless, collective efforts to save Japan from more heartache and destruction. They had suffered enough — you all had.

At that moment, as your colleague draped his arms over the sofa, you couldn’t help but picture in him the figure of a hero Atlas carrying the weight of the world on his back.

Oxygen calmly came in and out of your nostrils, but somehow, your chest tightened as the room grew quieter after Aizawa’s sigh. The few stray rays of a setting sun cast on both of you the fleeting warmth of the calm before the storm, such as the bated breath from a last night on Earth.

“Hey,” you said, your voice lower than usual, barely above a whisper.

He hummed in return, still with his head dangling back in between his worn down shoulders, as he gazed past through the ceiling.

“You seem tired,” you concluded, mentally facepalming yourself with the stupidity of the obvious. Of course he was. You were too. The entirety of the UA was. “I…” you tried offering something else in earnest, but your voice trailed off to silence, only adding to the somber discomfort as the sun drew nearer to the horizon and darkness began slowly seeping into the lounge.

“I know,” he replied, tilting his head forward to look at you, fully aware that there was nothing much else to say in such circumstances. The dark circle under his eye hinted that tiredness was probably the only feeling his weary self could muster up to bear at that moment.

Ever since your high school days, when you weren’t much more than a teenager with a silly crush on your grumpy classmate and a chip on your shoulder, you had never seen Aizawa look so exhausted. Not during the exams you took together, not when you became teachers and pro heroes with gnarly working hours, not even after spending weeks in the hospital.

He looked decades older than himself.

You stepped towards Aizawa while sparing him a smile and stood in front of him, tilting your head down to meet his gaze.

“You’re looking like shit.”

A soft smile pulled on his cheek, which instantly brought you some semblance of comfort. These smiles from him — a rare occurrence, as you’d learned quickly during your first week of classes at UA with him eons ago — always did.

“Right back at you,” he replied, leaning forward on his knees with his elbows.

You chuckled, and he huffed, still with that smile on his face before it faded. His usual nonchalant expression was slightly tainted with the preoccupation of a teacher. You knew, you had seen that same face in the mirror more times than you could count.

“Aizawa, the students will be okay. They’re trained, we have a solid plan, and we know what we’re all dealing with this time,” you stated, putting your hands over his shoulders.

“You know that doesn’t guarantee anything,” he noted, and he was absolutely right.

“Still,” you insisted, “you have to believe it will all be okay. Otherwise, you won’t be able to rest well for tomorrow, and you absolutely need to.”

“I’m not the worrisome type,” Aizawa remarked.

“You give yourself too much credit.”

It was his time to chuckle, soft and low. For a while, you both stood there motionless, with your hands resting reassuringly over his shoulders. To share each other’s presence had been a staple for years, and the same could be said about the comfort you both drew from it.

Aizawa had this no-bullshit, straightforward way of dealing with things that drew you in right from the start, and the silly teenage crush became true admiration after a while. That, and the endless patience — in his own brand of brashness — that he had with you, because somehow, he saw something in you. Potential, he said years ago. And he was right.

You decided in a not-so-recent past to let go of your feelings for him — a not so successful attempt, but still. You were both always elbow-deep in a workload that never seemed to decrease, no matter how many hours you put in between the school and the pro hero gig. To have only twenty-four hours in a day seemed like a bad joke from the Gods to people like you two.

Not the greatest idea to get involved like this and risk such a treasured… something. Friendship? The word felt inaccurate to this day to explain the deep trust and bond forged through those decades.

“Can I offer some help with anything?” you gently brushed your thumbs over his shoulders before retreating your hands back to your waist, “You always have a pile of stuff to sort out before sleep, and you sure as hell need some shuteye quality time.”

Aizawa kept silent, his gaze low and focused on the ground.

“Shota?” You asked, still meeting no answer whatsoever.

Before you realized, he rested the side of his face over your abdomen, and gently pulled both of your hands up to his hair. Surprised, your breath hitched on its way out, and your eyes fluttered as your heart picked up the pace.

“Is this okay?” Aizawa asked, closing his eye while he relaxed further into you.

You softly hummed in accordance, brushing the tips of your fingers down his long locks, careful not to tangle them on his eye patch elastic band.

“I’m not just…” he paused, considering his words for a moment before continuing, “I’m not concerned only about the students.” He said those last words in a whisper, as his hands made their way to hold your elbows delicately.

Your hands instinctively tightened around his head, pressing him against you until it became a yearning embrace.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” you whispered back, heaving a little before your next words, “promise me you will too?”

His hands slid under your arms, trailing around your body to press against your back while he hugged you back.

“I promise.”

You both stayed there for what felt like an eternity, embracing each other in borrowed time until the sun was finally set under the city’s skyline, taking away the last rays of clarity along with it.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[victorianbatman]

More ATLA/LOK Incorrect quotes

GN reader, unless stated otherwise

Bolin, propping his feet on the table: So, I heard you like bad boys?

Y/n: What? No.

Bolin, taking his feet off the table: Oh thank God, that felt terrible.

-

Lin: Whats this?

Y/n, hugging her: Affection.

Lin: Disgusting.

Lin:…

Lin: Do it again.

-

Bolin: Wow, your legs look amazing in those pants!

Y/n: You should see me without them.

Bolin: Without.. legs?

-

Sokka: What did you make for Y/n?

Zuko, staring at the burnt food: Regret.

-

Korra, holding kettle: Coffee or tea?

Y/n: Tea.

Korra: Wrong! Its coffee.

-

Bolin, talking about y/n: My crush isn’t picking up on any of my hints.

Mako: What hints have you given them?

Bolin: I think about them.. a lot.

Bolin: And sometimes I think about talking to them.

-

Y/n: Mako?

Mako: What?

Y/n: Are you asleep?

Mako: Who the fuck did you think said ‘what’?

-

Y/n, waking up: Am I dead?

[Sees Asami next to them]

Y/n: Is this heaven?

Korra, bangs on door: Open up, fuckers its me Korra

Y/n, tearing up: I always knew I’d end up in hell.

-

Lin: Having trouble figuring out who knows Korra the best?

Asami: Its me!

Bolin: Its me!

Mako: Its me!

Y/n:..

Y/n: It’s probably not me.

-

Y/n: Time for plan G.

Mako: Wait- don’t you mean plan B?

Y/n: No we did plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over C because of some technical difficulties.

Asami: What about plan D?

Y/n: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Bolin: And plan E?

Y/n: Im hoping not to use it, I die in plan E.

Korra: I like plan E.

-

Y/n: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them?

Mako: Well, what do you do?

Y/n: I die? Pfft- What kinda question..

-

Y/n: A mosquito tried to bite me and I slapped it and it died.

Y/n: Then I started thinking. It was just trying to get food.

Y/n: Like, what if I went to the fridge to get something to eat and it slammed the door on me and broke my neck?

Y/n: Howw would I feel?

Mako: Are you ok?

-

Bolin: What does ‘take out’ mean?

Mako: Food.

Asami: Dating.

Korra: Murder.

Y/n: IT COULD MEAN ALL THREE IF YOURE NOT A FUCKING COWARD!

-

Korra: You’re a little obsessed with yourself aren’t you?

Y/n: Well if im not who else is gonna be?

-

[Y/n, throws bread at turtleducks]

Y/n: Do not forget this act of altruism. If I am ever in trouble, I expect you and your brethren to come to my aid. Do not forget.

-

Y/n: You’re the love of my life, I’d do anything for you.

Asami: I want you to take care of yourself and get enough sleep.

Y/n: Absolutely not.

-

Asami: My boyfriend is too tall to kiss, what should I do?

Korra: Punch him in the gut, then when he leans down kiss him.

Bolin: Tackle him

Y/n: Dump him, be with me.

Lin, passing by: Kick him in the shin.

Mako: Please don’t do any of those.

-

[Korra, sneaks into house at 2 am]

Mako, turns in swivel chair: Care to explain where you were?

Korra: Uhh.. I was out with Y/n.

Y/n, also turns around in another swivel chair: Care to- [chair wont stop turning] Mako- I cant stop the chair-

-

Bolin, after making Y/n mad: You wont hit me, I have witnesses.

Y/n: Mako. Asami. Turn around.

[Both Mako and Asmai turn around]

Bolin, scared: M-Mako? Asami?

-

Y/n: So whats Zukos type?

Sokka: Y/c eyes, kind, oblivious, good sense of humour, turtleduck lover.

Y/n: Damn, sounds kind of like me. Too bad we’re just friends though.

Sokka: Did I mention oblivious?

Y/n: Yeah why?

Sokka: Just making sure.

[ghostaholics]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂

➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!Reader ➸ TAGS/WARNING(S): none ➸ BANNER CREDIT: cafekitsune & benkeibear

Detail-oriented, exceptional manual dexterity when it comes to sewing him up. Your movements are careful and controlled – meticulous with regards to everything that you do but especially focused on how the edges line up so that they don’t overlap. Other medics – they'll rush. Botch it. A shoddy job like tectonic plates of skin forced to converge on each other, because in his line of work, stitches are an afterthought when there's another bloke with a sucking chest wound whose deep in the throes of respiratory distress and the only immediate threat about Ghost's own injury is the small amount of blood he'll lose. Whatever will get it closed. Nobody else cares much about the cosmetic factor. But you do. Painstakingly so. It's a thankless job to spend three times longer than it should to get it right, but he makes sure to express his appreciation for the consideration you put into every single graze/cut/gash (even more diligent if the injury's to any part of his arm that could mess up his tattoo sleeve). They always heal nicely.

He looks for you, after-hours – well late into the night because you were occupied patching up other soldiers. It'd been a grueling mission, lots of WIAs needing your attention. He doesn't even have a good excuse for this. It's a trivial thing, maybe, to bother you. Like asking Atlas for a favour, with the weight of the world on your shoulders and the soul-crushing responsibility of holding lives in the palms of your hands as though you're the last line of defense against death. This is stupid. This is beyond fucking stupid of him. Almost turns around and walks away from the medical tent, because that's how ridiculous it is. But he convinces himself to head in, asking if you can fix the stitching on his mask because the only person he trusts more than himself to do it is you. Though his request is benign, the significance behind it is profound in ways that he won't admit to himself. There are very few people he can count on. And of course, you say yes with a tired smile and a brightness in your eyes that never seems to dull in front of him no matter how exhausted you might be. It's one of the rare instance he lets his guard down, shows his face. He keeps you company the entire time, telling you about why he wears that mask while you restore it back to original condition.

The irony of having an injured medic: Simon's saddled with the pitiful task of having to step into your role because there's a gash on your forearm that needs to be taken care of. He knows how to do a basic stitch – is fairly confident that he can thread the sutures just like you’d showed him a million times by now whenever he’d been looking for a reason to see you ( ❝ Show me how to do it right. The proper way, yeah? ❞ ). And he's admonishing you to hold still, except it's sort of difficult when you're being treated like a bloody pincushion. He'd never let anybody else get away with making fun of him for that but this is you so he lets it slide. After talking him through it (which you find quite odd, considering that he never would've struck you as someone who’d need extra time and help), you inspect his handiwork, mildly impressed.

❝ Oh, you actually... well, you did quite a decent job. ❞ ❝ Of course. ❞ Because he wouldn't settle for anything less than perfecti— ❝ But then again, it is a little off over here, ❞ you point out, just to deflate his pride. There's still smugness to his tone. ❝ Would you like me to start over, then? ❞ ❝ Not on your life, Riley. ❞

He doesn’t mention how phenomenal he is at suturing, doesn’t mention that he sat in on a class for combat specialists early on in his career even though he didn't need to be there and was commended for his technique by the leading instructor. He definitely doesn't bring up the fact that he's been taking long on purpose just because he likes your company.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

Ka/taang: friends-to-lovers or the Friend Zone?

It’s almost axiomatic, in any ATLA shipping discussion, that Ka/taang is the friends-to-lovers ship while Zutara is the enemies-to-lovers ship, and that differences in shipping tastes can be boiled down to whether you prefer FTL or ETL.

My first ship was Percabeth. My biggest ship was Klaine. It took me until Mockingjay to let go of my Gale-and-Katniss-are-childhood-friends rose-tinted goggles and start liking Everlark. I started dabbling in ETL because of Zutara, but I’m incredibly picky about it (do not ask me how many Dramione fanfics made me irrationally, disproportionately mad).

All this to say: as a longtime friends-to-lovers enthusiast, I should theoretically love Ka/taang. But…

My difficulty with Ka/taang as a friends-to-lovers ship boils down to this: Aang and Katara’s friendship was always narratively framed as insufficient, because Aang liked her from the start and always wanted a romantic relationship. And imo that dynamic really colours their entire friendship.

I like to think Aang would’ve been a ride-or-die friend — the type to give up the Avatar State to rescue her, the type to commit ecoterrorism and help her get arrested, the type to make her a flower necklace to cheer her up — even if he didn’t have a crush on her, but I will never know that. We never got to see the pure friendship part of friends-to-lovers, because the spectre of the romantic relationship was always there. Before the last five minutes of the show, Katara’s feelings for Aang range from “plausibly interested” (The Headband, Cave of Two Lovers) to “doesn’t hate it” (Day of the Black Sun, The Fortuneteller) to “no” (Ember Island Players). Yet Katara’s eventual capitulation to reciprocation of Aang’s feelings was always depicted as inevitable, starting from s1 when the prisoners during Avatar Day reassured him that she’d “come around” because he’s a catch. It’s as if friendship, even one full of devotion and mutual love like the one they share, is not enough.

And that’s just totally antithetical to what I love about a friends-to-lovers dynamic. I love romances where characters value each other outside of attraction, when they see each other for who they are (this goes double for pretty characters like Katara, whose complexity and imperfections are just as important as her beauty and her care for others). I love the idiots in love sub-trope, where they’re obviously into each other, yet do a bunch of mental gymnastics to remain in comfortable denial (we got a little bit of this earlier in the series, but by s3 we were firmly in Aang-pines-and-Katara-deflects territory). In every friends-to-lovers story I’m simply obsessed with the confess-and-kiss scene, but the version we got in ATLA was ruined by the lack of reciprocation, twice.

Over time, because Aang was written as so insistent about his affections, Ka/taang went from a friends-to-lovers story to a Nice Guy Friend Zone “why doesn’t she like me” story. I mentioned Everlark earlier: I got the same ick for Gale in Mockingjay as I did for Aang in s3, where the woman is not interested yet he still badgers her about it. (And considering Gale is canonically hot, I don’t think the relative attractiveness of Aang is the issue here). But Gale’s insistence was presented as his problem, his lack of empathy, his self-righteousness; Aang’s insistence was just a part of his quest to get the girl.

A lot of people say Zutara is a female fantasy, whether they mean it in a positive or pejorative way. Nobody says the same about Ka/taang, even though women definitely have friends-to-lovers fantasies too. A good friends-to-lovers story reminds me of all the times when I was an idiot before getting together with a friend I was actually head-over-heels for. Ka/taang reminds me of all the times when I was not interested in a friend and they didn’t respect my preference. Friends-to-lovers is a delicate balance, maintained only by unerring mutual respect and unconditional care for each other, and it can veer into Nice Guyism if the writers aren’t thoughtful about why this dynamic is so appealing. Which is exactly what happened with Ka/taang.

[burst-of-iridescent]

thoughts on the atla live action trailer:

looks like we're definitely getting more of the air nomad genocide. i'm hoping this means more flashbacks and development of the air nomads in general, but it definitely sets the tone for the series if this is what they're starting out with

azula shooting an arrow?? she doesn't seem to be wearing eyeliner and lipstick like in the promo shots, so i'm guessing it's a younger azula. i'm interested to see where this is going

aang crashing into the rock like in the opening credits <3 i'm glad they seem to be keeping some of the silliness and humour of the original

the actors for the main four are crushing it so far, but gordon cormier as aang is absolutely the standout for me. the scene where he has tears in his eyes while talking about how he can't save the world... that's my son, that's my boy etc

katara and aang laughing at sokka, aang running to hug the water tribe sibs!! they got the dynamic DOWN

i know there's like 2 seconds of the blue spirit and aang working together but. i'm obsessed

"i'm the avatar and i'm going to save the world... with my friends" tears. full tears

bumi! jun! jet! slightly disappointed we didn't get a cabbage man appearance yet but they're probably saving that for the show. the minor characters all look stellar so far

katara and zuko's fight at the north pole do you hear me screaming

i really like the way aang's tattoos light up when he enters the avatar state

the bending looks surprisingly good so far. i love how fluid the water and firebending in particular seem. could this be the redemption we deserve for [gestures at movie that doesn't exist]?

the settings look amazing. omashu especially is beautiful

i'm more curious than ever what it was about the show that bryke had to walk away from because of "creative differences". everything we've seen so far seems really promising and true to the original.

still keeping my expectations low because trailers can be misleading but i'm cautiously hopeful <3

[cheolism]

couch comfort

✧ cheol x reader

✧ summary: maybe the bad stuff isn't so bad when you have your boyfriend, seungcheol, there to help you with the weight.

✧ wc is approx 6.3k

✧ genre: romance, fluff, humor; being in love. work sucks. little angst? reader talks of seungcheol being their first real crush/infatuation/love? seungcheol pouts a lot.

✧ note: if there is angst in here, it's very little! this fix purely exists for comfort. you make out at one point. there's another cat based off of my childhood cat. there's absolutely no plot, just kisses and cuddles and comfort. a lot of reflection abt your relationship w cheol at the beginning but it's not all like that lol. photo mentioned at the end is one of the photos at the top!!! this is not edited.

The past week, while definitely not the worst week of your life, was definitely up there. 

You sighed, leaning forward and letting your forehead rest against the wheel. Taking a deep breath, you held it for a handful of seconds before releasing it; just as your therapist suggested. Then you thought of Seungcheol and his fluffy hair.

Feeling somewhat less stressed, you grabbed your backpack from the passenger seat and made your way inside, trying your best to ignore the bitter winter air that nipped at your thighs and legs. Ignoring the cold did nothing to actually prevent it, however, and you still fumbled with your apartment keys for a good minute before you were able to select the correct key and enter. 

You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat. 

You dropped your bag off at the door and kicked off your shoes, and in a voice that sounded remarkably like your mother when she babytalked your niece, you called out for your cat. 

Stumbling away from the door and to the living room, you withdrew your phone from your pocket and slid open the new notification from Seungcheol. 

Seungcheol: it sounds like you had a rough day.  im sorry. i wish i u didn’t. if u still feel up for it, i can be at ur apartment in twenty. but if u want to stay in or b alone tonight, i understand baby 

There was a meow from below, and that was all the warning you had before your ancient tortoise shell cat was leaping onto your chest, her weight startling you for a moment. You peered at Wolfie, her lime colored eyes peering back at you. Then she meowed again, and you couldn’t help but laugh at it, as she sounded as if she had been a serious chain smoker for fifty years. 

Wolfie ignored you, crawling forward and rubbing her head underneath your chin. She began purring, a deep thing that you could only truly appreciate if you were completely silent. You held your phone up in the air to type, leaving just enough space for Wolfie to curl up on your chest. 

You: ya!!!! I actually just got home 🧡💛 Wolfie immediately curled up on me, so I’ll have to ask her about getting up to get ready. 

You then snapped a picture of Wolfie on your chest and sent it to him. Letting your phone fall to the ground beside the couch, you began running your hands over Wolfie. Once upon a time, her fur had been soft and silky; it practically shined. But age had caught up to your precious companion, and you constantly fought back the urge to cry over how tough and wiry her fur felt underneath your fingertips. 

Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head sink completely into the pillows. You had been joking to Seungcheol about getting Wolfie’s permission to get up, but even without her added twelve pounds on your chest, you would’ve had a hard time getting up. It was as if you were Atlas, the Titan who carried the world on his back, and the weight of it was keeping you down. 

Not to be misunderstood: you didn’t hate dates with Seungcheol, and most definitely didn’t despise time spent with him. As a matter of fact, you looked forward to every Friday, knowing that not only it marked the beginning of the weekend but was also your assigned date night with Seungcheol. 

If you were honest with yourself, you looked forward to waking up every morning. It was stupid and cheesy, and if your teenage self could see you they would shake their head and roll their eyes. But whenever you opened your eyes, Wolfie’s weight resting on your chest, you immediately thought of him. He was the first person you texted in the morning, whether it be about a particular dream you had, something you saw in the news, or even the weather. You couldn’t help but want to talk to Seungcheol first thing in the morning, just as you couldn’t help but message him until you went to bed. 

If you were frank with yourself, which was asking a lot, you wanted to talk to him all the time. It was so -- 

When you were a teenager, you had looked at your friends who were proclaiming their love for their partners only within a few months of dating with considerable scorn. After all, what did sixteen and eighteen year olds know about love? You had offered a listening ear to their troubles, empathizing with their adoration for their partner, while also mentally rolling your eyes and keeping yourself occupied with your books and music. 

So you didn’t know what to do about Seungcheol. You didn’t know what to do about wanting to send him pictures of all the pretty flowers you saw; videos of Wolfie being cute and cuddly; pictures of sunsets and sunrises, of cute stuffed animals and all other pretty things that reminded you of Choi Seungcheol. 

You inhaled, held it; released. 

If you were frank with yourself, if you stood back and analyzed everything, all the emotions you felt for Seungcheol and all the things you wanted to do for him and all the things you dreamt of doing with him, it sounded like you maybe felt something more than the fluttering adoration and infatuation you had at the start of your relationship when he asked you out. 

But you didn’t want to analyze that too much. 

You groaned slightly, stretching out your legs. Wolfie let out a noise of protest before purring, her attempt at getting you to remain laying down. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered, your hand going to rest on her head. You used your thumb to pet the space between her eyes. “I want to stay cuddled up with you forever, too. But I also want to see Cheolie.”

She adjusted herself on your chest, purring on. You did want to stay there in the dark with Wolfie, just as you had done during your early college days. Many evenings were spent like that, the two of you in your own space. More often than not, you felt like the world was on your shoulders -- just like Atlas -- and it was Wolfie’s own needs and wants that dragged you out of bed. 

The past week had you debating on canceling with Seungcheol. Nothing major had happened, of course, but instead a bunch of small incidents and interactions that left bad tastes in your mouth had piled up. Just as a bunch of small pebbles pile up to build a mountain, these small things had piled to the point where you just wanted to turn away from the world. 

But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to, more importantly. You didn’t want this past week, no matter how bad it might have been, to impede on your time with Seungcheol. You didn’t want to give up your time with him, not when it was -- not when he was -- so precious to you.

You settled an arm around Wolfie and slowly began to rise; she let out a few squeaks of protest. When Wolfie realized you weren’t going to stop, she huffed and wiggled out of your grasp. Tail high in the air, she walked over your legs to get to the arm rest opposite of you. She climbed on top of it and sat rather primly, looking at you with wide eyes. 

“Are you my pretty little lady,” you asked, voice sweet. You shifted to reach out and pet her. “My pretty baby.”

Wolfie allowed you to pet her for a handful of seconds before she sharply twisted her head towards the front door. She sat, waiting, until there was a series of sharp knocks. Wolfie began growling deep in her throat, hackles raising. 

“Y/n!” A deep voice called out, knocking stopping. 

You cursed, springing up from the couch. You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it away from you, swatting at the cat hairs that had decided to take up room and board on your shirt. “Coming!”

Wolfie ran beside you as you made your way to the door, her tail raised straight in the air. She jumped on the little tree you had next to the door, letting out a croaky yowl when you weren’t fast enough to open it. 

“Sorry, Wolfie, sorry --” You fumbled with the lock for a moment before successfully unclicking it. You wrenched open the door, a large, nearly comically so, smile already on your face. “Seungcheol!” 

He was grinning back at you, eyes twinkling. Seungcheol was dressed in all black, from his heavy winter coat that was a size too big to his pants and boots. The beanie he wore was the only spot of color on him, it being a vibrant orange. 

As always, despite his humble outfit, he was handsome and beautiful. 

Something shifted inside of you. It was as if you had done the breathing exercise your therapist had suggested, but instead of lifting only a few pebbles off your shoulders it relieved you of half a mountain’s worth of weight. 

You stepped back, letting him come into your apartment enough to shut the door behind him. Wolfie hopped off of her cat tree and went to him, winding herself around her legs. You went to follow suit, arms reaching out to him, but he stopped you. 

Subconsciously your lips began to pout at his refusal. Seungcheol laughed, his hands going to his zipper. “Let me take off my coat before you hug me. It’s cold outside.”

“I don’t care about it being cold,” you mumbled, but did as he said. 

As soon as he had his coat unzipped, Seungcheol reached out for you. He opened his coat just enough so you wouldn’t be touching the cold outer layer, his hands guiding you to rest against him. 

He was warm; that was your first thought. 

His arms surrounded you, pulling you close enough to where your nose was smashed against his chest. Not that you minded. Your arms slipped around him in turn, sliding underneath his coat and taking hold of the back of his hoodie. One of his hands went to the back of your head, fingertips sinking in your hair, and he guided you to rest your cheek against him. 

Your eyes slipped shut of their own will. Humming, you nuzzled into him, breathing him in. Before Seungcheol, you never really gave much thought into what men smelled like; all you knew was they either smelled good or bad. But Seungcheol?

He smelled like -- well, like Choi Seungcheol. You knew he used expensive cologne, that he used fabric softeners and used the same body wash and lotion so the fragrance would be amplified. Your first impression of him had been that he smelled expensive, and even now, three months into your relationship, you couldn’t help but associate him with luxury. 

But now? 

He smelled like home. 

That was your second thought. 

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” His face was pressed into your hair, just as yours was his chest, and you wondered if he was breathing you in, as you were him. The hand that was in your hair began to fumble with the strands before settling, his palm heavy on your head. He began petting you, as if you were a cat or a dog, but instead of feeling indignant you felt extremely at ease. 

“It’s fine.” 

He hummed, the sound coming deep from within him. You felt his chest vibrate against your face. “It’s not fine. I don’t like it when you’re suffering.”

You grinned, squeezing him. “I’m not suffering, Seungcheol. Just. Had a bad week. Besides,” you pulled away slightly, just enough to peer up at him with your little grin. “Somehow it doesn’t feel all that bad anymore.”

Seungcheol laughed, hands moving to your face. He pinched at your cheeks, not hard enough to hurt, before cupping them in his hands. His dark eyes were soft and sparkling as they looked at you, and you knew that no one suited brown eyes as well as he. They were warm and inviting, gentle and soft; perfect reflections of his soul. 

He didn’t speak. He licked his lips and your eyes obediently went to his mouth. Seungcheol chuckled again, his hands tilting your face up. Expectant, your eyes slipped shut. 

You waited for a second. Then another. Then a few more, and your eyes were opening in confusion. He was still watching you, smiling wide enough that his gums showed. 

“Seungcheol!” You whined, brow furrowing.

He giggled, a boyish thing that seemed so at odds with his masculine build and voice. But it was him. 

Seungcheol swooped down, his lips finally connecting with yours. You sighed at the contact, melting against him. The two of you exchanged chaste kisses back and forth, neither in a rush. It was as if your entire week had been hurtling towards this, towards you in his arms, his lips on yours, something settling in your heart that seemed a little too much to just be infatuation. 

He pressed one final kiss to your mouth before straying, his lips ghosting over your cheek. They traveled about your face, his breath warm as it hit your skin. He pressed quick kisses to the apple of your cheek, the space between your brows, your temple; you hummed, satisfaction and safety seeping into your bones and soul, and he pressed a kiss to each of your eyes. 

Seungcheol’s mouth returned to yours, and when he pressed another kiss to your mouth, firm like how someone would kiss a lover long gone, you couldn’t help but beam. 

His own lips twisted into a smile in response. Your teeth clacked against his, both of you grinning into each other’s mouths. 

“Sorry for teasing you, baby.” He pulled away from you, hands squeezing your cheeks before he released you. You wanted to stick yourself back into his arms, but held back. “You’re just so damn cute.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes in faux annoyance. You couldn’t fight the smile that was still on your face, though. “Whatever.”

“What --” Seungcheol stopped pulling off his coat for a moment to stare at you, eyes narrowing, as if you had done something sacrilegious. “Did you just say whatever to me saying you’re cute?”

He still had that appalled look on his face. You shifted back onto your heels, watching as he slowly continued pulling off his coat. You wondered if he was teasing you. “I mean. Thanks?”

“You are cute,” he declared, voice stern with authority. You couldn’t help the look of disbelief that appeared on your face. Seungcheol sighed, as if your skepticism was disappointing. He got one arm out of his coat. “You are. I don’t know who I have to punch to convince you --”

“Violence isn’t the answer to everything,” You chided. You finally left the entryway, moving to your kitchen. “I’ll get some hot chocolate ready for you, Seungcheol!”

He gave an affirmative noise in return. You pulled out your milk and went about heating it up. As it heated, you pulled out two mugs from the dishwasher, which was so full of dishes that had been shoved in that you had to wiggle the mugs back and forth to get them out. 

You felt his presence behind you, and you felt embarrassment slowly creep its way up your neck and settle on your face. Standing, you refused to look him directly in the face. “I uh. Didn’t have the energy to really do dishes that much this week.”

Arms were wrapping around your waist, Seungcheol plastering himself to your back. You put the cocoa powder in the glasses. He slouched against you, his head tilted against yours, watching. He was warm, always warm. One of his arms moved to sling around your waist, the other across your chest. 

You removed the milk from the microwave, pouring it evenly in the two mugs. Seungcheol shuffled with you as you shifted, grabbing the mini-marshmallows from the cupboard. Without much thought you distributed them before leaving the package on the counter. 

“They’re not even.”

“Hm?”

Seungcheol sighed against your ear, as if whatever he had seen was greatly burdening him. “The marshmallows. There’s not an even amount in both mugs.”

“Oh.” You looked down, eyeing both the mugs. “You can have the one with more of them, then.”

Clicking his tongue, Seungcheol reached around you for the package. “You deserve to have the same amount of marshmallows as I do, baby.”

Feeling slightly as if this wasn’t just about marshmallows, you watched as Seungcheol’s fingers carefully counted out five more marshmallows and put them into the left mug. Before he could settle his hand back on your waist, you grabbed it. 

You slid your hand on top of his, observing. His fingers were larger than yours, both in length and width. Seungcheol was pale, remarkably so, and his fingers were no different. Your fingers slid against his hand, feeling the little hairs on his knuckles and the ring on his forefinger. Your other hand joined your first in your navigation of his hand, smoothing over his fingernails -- which he kept trimmed and maintained, more than you -- feeling the sharpness of them in contrast to the soft pads of his fingers. 

Seungcheol wiggled his fingers, and you felt a little giggle escape you as you wrapped your hands around three of his fingers, squeezing. He pressed himself further into you, and you felt every inch of him against you. 

“Seungcheol --”

He pulled away, pressing a kiss to your ear. You peered over your shoulder at him, tilting your head. Seungcheol looked at you for a moment before smiling that gummy grin of his, his hands going to hold your head and bring it so he could press a kiss to your temple. 

“Why are you so fucking cute,” he said, each word separated by a kiss to your forehead. 

Seungcheol released you, picking up both mugs. You followed him into the living room, where he immediately went to the couch. Wolfie hopped onto the coffee table in front of it, sniffing both mugs. Seungcheol went to shoo her away but you stopped him, folding yourself into the couch next to him. 

“She doesn’t drink it,” you said. You reached to the ground and pulled a blanket off of it, settling the blanket over your legs. “The only people food she likes is salami. The real kind, you know? Or she likes licking bowls after I eat Captain Crunch.”

Seungcheol laughed, and like always whenever you heard the sound, you giggled along with him. He shifted further into the couch, moving his feet to prop them up on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket off of you, shooting a look at you when you protested. Seungcheol grabbed your calves, guiding your legs to drape over his thighs. He then adjusted the blanket over the both of you, tucking both of you in. 

“She’s a good girl,” Seungcheol agreed, reaching out. Wolfie took the hint and jumped onto your legs, climbing fervently up to his hand so he could pet her. He chuckled, obliging. “She’s awfully needy.”

He shot you a look, coy. “Just like someone else I know.”

You puffed out your cheeks, shooting him a glare. “You’re just as needy as I am, Mr. Choi Seungcheol!”

He gasped, openly insulted. “What did I say about calling me by my full name?”

You wiggled, reaching out and tugging one of his curls. “Well, when you start accusing someone it makes them do horrible things, Mr. Seungcheol. Like using full names.”

“Oh, does it?” He grinned. With one hand still petting Wolfie, he used the other hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. You let out an indignant squawk, waving your hand around to try and get him to stop. “Does it, then? Call me Choi Seungcheol again and see what happens!”

“Okay,” you laughed. “Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol.”

His mouth dropped, affronted. Seungcheol then huffed, moving his arm off of you and turning his face. “Fine. You’re lucky Wolfie is on your legs, otherwise I’d push you off.”

You laughed at his sulking, thoroughly endeared. You shifted forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. You tried to bring him down to you in order to kiss him, but Seungcheol resisted, straining against you. “Hey! I’m trying to make it better, Seungcheol!” 

“Nope!” He said, shaking his head. His curls bounced with every movement, and you couldn’t help but smile in adoration. “No making it better, F/n L/n. You’ve done it.”

“Oooh,” you cooed, “I’ve done it, have I?”

He nodded, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated pout. “Yep. You’ve done it.”

“What have I done?”

“Agitated me.”

You laughed, a loud thing that startled Wolfie from your lap. She jumped off of the couch, her feet hitting the hardwood with a little thump! 

“I’ve agitated you!” You echoed in between laughs. You fell back against the couch, head hitting the armrest at an awkward angle, no longer able to support yourself. When you peeked back at Seungcheol, he was raising his thick eyebrows at you, which set you off giggling again. 

He moved your legs off of his thighs, moving around them and guiding them to rest on the couch. You watched, your smile so big it was starting to hurt your cheeks, as he descended upon you. He placed his knees on either side of your thighs, setting his weight against them. Seungcheol bent over you, his eyes sparkling with something dangerous, one eyebrow lifted. 

“Now you’ve really done it,” he murmured, voice deep. It sent something coursing through you, something that ate away at the mirth and sent heat shooting through your heart and settling deep. Seungcheol leaned over you, one hand bracing against the armrest and the other guiding your head in a more comfortable position. 

“I’ve really done it,” you echoed, dumbly. 

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he said, absentmindedly. His fingers traced over your ear, nail scraping lightly; your eyes fluttered as they continued to glide over your skin, moving to your jaw. You felt two of his fingers prod at your lower lip before continuing, pulling at it slightly before moving to ghost over your chin. 

You hummed, tongue reaching out to wet your lips. “I can.”

He lowered himself against you. He braced both hands on either side of your head, and your eyes slid shut as his face neared. 

Then your phone began to buzz. 

Your eyes flew open, staring into his. He was so close. He let out a huff of breath. The two of you waited for a second, and you knew he was trying to will the noise away just as much as you, but to no avail. 

You tapped his thighs, and Seungcheol let out a deep sigh. He began raising himself off of you, and you couldn’t help but give his thighs a squeeze. 

Seungcheol went to the other end of the couch as you hung your front half off of it, searching the ground for where your phone had fallen earlier. Once you got it, you wiggled frantically back onto the couch. You moved to press against Seungcheol, your thighs molding into one another, elbows knocking. 

Your mood, which had been repaired by Seungcheol, began to dampen as soon as you saw the contact name of the person who had messaged you. Your weariness must have appeared on your face, as Seungcheol was immediately responding. He swung his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer, leaning his head against yours. 

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Humming, you softly shook your head so as to not hurt his. “Just texts from my manager.”

You didn’t move to open the messages. It was like you were Atlas again. The weight returned, no matter how many pebbles and rocks Seungcheol had brushed off of your shoulders.

Seungcheol let out a little sigh. He wiggled about, turning onto his side to face you. He leaned forward and tucked his face into your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. Seungcheol laid his other arm over your stomach, hand gently squeezing at your lovehandle. 

“You don’t have to answer it,” he murmured. You could feel his lips move against your skin. “You’re not in a manager position, and you’ve clocked out. It can wait.”

When you shook your head in answer, he sighed again. Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your neck, and a part of you couldn’t help but feel foolish at how your heart jumped and the corners of your lips twitched up into a little smile. 

Unlocking your phone, you hurriedly tapped on your manager’s messages. Immediately you were met with five separate chat bubbles, all as unwelcome as the one before it. manager: so what was this I heard about you leaving early yesterday? 

manager: I know you see other people leaving early, but that’s not something I encourage. It’s not something you should encourage, either. 

manager: We rely on you to set an example to the others. 

manager: You’re scheduled for a certain time, and you should be fulfilling that time. 

manager: If this happens again I’ll have to look into shortening your hours.

Your mouth fell open with an audible noise, a small breath of air leaving you as you read over your manager’s messages. Seungcheol made an inquiring sound and you tilted your phone towards him so he could read the texts. 

“What the fuck,” he muttered. “What the fuck. Who the fuck cares? Who the fuck -- so what you left early?”

“It was by ten minutes,” you softly said, sending out a quick affirmative to your manager to let them know you at least read the messages. “I was just. Tired, you know?”

Seungcheol straightened next to you, angling his head to read the texts again. His thick brows were narrowed, plump lips twisted into an irritable frown. “What the fuck. Ten minutes? This is over ten fucking minutes?”

“It’s just --” You broke off, fumbling with your phone for a moment. “It’s not like I do it all the time.”

“No, it’s not!” Seungcheol’s eyes were practically blazing as he looked at you, his grip on you tightening. He was fully irritated, gaze sharp and mouth firm. The urge to smile struck you for a split moment, your heart whispering with glee that he was angry over you; he was angry because of someone mistreating you. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” Seungcheol announced. His fingers dug into your shirt. “You’re a model employee. You never call in, never leave early or without doing your shit. Who the fuck are they to -- to text you like that?”

“My manager, Cheolie,” you reminded him. 

He scoffed, his hand leaving your body to push his curls away from his face. “Your manager -- fuck them, fuck! You’re a good person, a good employee. You’re an amazing person and if you want to leave ten minutes early, then you should! Fuck them!”

You were grinning now, your heart practically singing. It was nothing, you supposed. It wasn’t anything to get excited about, but there was something magnificent in seeing someone get angry over how others were treating you. It was wonderful to see another person so invested in your well-being and happiness, and it made your heart feel light. 

It was like he had taken the boulder on your back -- the world on Atlas’s -- and smashed it between his two hands, his anger blazing bright enough to blaze through rock.

Seungcheol’s eyes met yours, and immediately his look softened. He sighed, though his lips were beginning to curve in his sweet smile. He tucked his face back into your neck, pressing another kiss underneath your ear. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m being righteously angry on your behalf.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. “‘Righteously angry?’”

He giggled, burying his face into your skin. He kissed you again there, before Seungcheol was removing his head. Seungcheol peered up at you, and you couldn’t help but admire him. His dark curls, how they brushed against his sweet, wide eyes; his eyelashes, those ridiculously long and dark lashes that made him look ridiculously endearing. 

Fuck, how you wanted him. 

“You know,” he began, lips in a coy smile. “You haven’t really given me a kiss hello.”

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, raising your brows. “The audacity -- I have! Do you not remember us at the door?”

He hummed, shaking his head. His curls bounced. “Nope! I distinctly recall that whole ordeal being led by me.”

“Oh, was it?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, turning to face him. You switched your phone to your left hand, and with your right you reached up and cupped his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth, and you couldn’t help but stroke his cheekbone. You then pressed your hand to his jaw. “Well, I better correct that then.”

You pressed your lips against his, three quick kisses in succession. 

“Hm,” Seungcheol said. “I don’t know if that’s really enough to make up for it.”

“It’s not?” Then you pressed three more kisses. “How is that, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol shrugged. One of his hands settled on your waist, the other going to tuck your hair behind your ear. He traced his thumb over the shell of your ear before settling his hand right below it, on the hinge of your jaw. “Better, but not really satisfying, you know?”

“Not satisfying?” You asked, voice pitching high with amusement. His brown eyes were soft and twinkling, almost as if his soul was beckoning you closer, closer, to come closer and fall into his. You rose to your knees, letting your phone drop between the two of you. “I’ll just have to remedy that real quick.”

“I can tell you if it’s gonna be a quick one it won’t be real satisfying,” he chimed. 

You rolled your eyes, lowering your face. His eyes were already on your lips, his tongue peeking out. “You don’t have to worry about it being satisfying.”

Then you were upon him. Your hands on his face, angling his head up and towards you. You pressed a kiss to his upper lip, chaste and sweet, before tilting your head. Like a wave intent on devouring, you moved your mouth onto his. 

For a moment, Seungcheol let you work your mouth against his. Your kisses were wet and warm, and he was an obedient servant to the mastery your mouth had over him. Your hands sunk into his hair, nails scraping, fingers tugging. He was pliant beneath you, and you kissed him with the unhurried ease that all devote lovers practiced. 

Then, rather impishly, you took his bottom lip between your teeth. He let out a breathy moan at it, and for a moment you couldn’t help but grin. 

Pulling back, you tried to fight the surge of pride you felt as he surged after you. You subconsciously set a hand against his thick neck in an attempt to stop him from following, but Seungcheol paid no mind. Indeed, you couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through you as he continued to push, his eyes dark with intent, nevermind the feeling of your hand pushing against him. 

“Why did you stop, baby,” Seungcheol murmured. His voice was dark and deep, matching his eyes, and fuck, if you weren’t ready to lay on the couch and let him have his way. 

“Our hot chocolate,” you replied, heart beating so quickly it was as if a hummingbird had somehow made its home within you, “it’s cold.”

“If it’s cold now, it’ll be cold when we’re done.”

You laughed, then. You threw out your arms and wrapped him in them, bringing Seungcheol flush against you. He went easily, and you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, hands messing with his hair. 

“If I had known,” you said, still giggling as you pressed a final kiss underneath his chin, “before we started dating how absolute insatiable and ridiculous you are, I wouldn’t have believed it. You really had me fooled, Seungcheol.”

He chuckled, moving his arms around you. Seungcheol pressed you into him, just as you had him. “I swear, everytime you call me ‘Seungcheol’ I lose another year of my life. Next you’ll be telling me that’s my name in your phone.”

You went still against him. 

Immediately Seungcheol pulled away from you. He looked at you, scrutinizing. Then, voice severe, “Unlock your phone for me.”

That set you off laughing again. Seungcheol laid you onto the couch before searching the area for your phone. He was presenting it to you in a matter of seconds, holding it out in front of you. “Unlock it.”

“You know the passcode,” you giggled. 

“No I don’t --”

You shot him a meaningful look. Then his eyes widened, and he tapped in the date of your first date. He had a satisfied look on his face when your phone unlocked, a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. You watched as he glanced around your phone. You let out a soft sigh, extending your legs and settling them on either side of Seungcheol. 

“What.” He blinked, then blinked again. “Seungcheol. You have my full first name? Not even a heart, not a flower or something cute, no -- there’s not even a smiley face!”

You were grinning. He huffed, shoulders rising. His brows furrowed and his lips went into a full pout. “Hey. Baby, this isn’t okay!”

“I didn’t realize it was just a crime,” you said. 

He glanced over at you. As soon as Seungcheol saw you were grinning and realized the depth of your insincerity, he was sticking his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and withdrew his phone. 

“Look,” he said, flashing you his phone screen. 

He had a picture of you from your first date as your contact photo. You were smiling, brightly and unabashedly. It was almost goofy looking, how happy you looked in that picture. 

Your name in his phone was just as sweet, and you wondered if you needed to schedule a dentist appointment first thing Monday morning from the cavities that were surely forming. 

My Baby 💖🔥

“Aw,” you said, “that’s so cute.”

His jaw dropped. “Cute -- yes, it is cute! Meanwhile you just have my full fucking government name --” “Cheolie, sweetheart, it isn’t that serious --”

He glared at you, before shoving your phone towards you. “Change it. Right now.”

“Doesn’t that ruin --”

“Don’t make me repeat what I said,” Seungcheol warned. He stood, and your eyes immediately fell to his ass. Not in a perverted way of course, but because it was art and it would be a dishonor to not observe and appreciate art. 

“I’ll be back,” he said, “and when I return you better have something so fucking cute it’ll make me cry.”

Rolling your eyes, you went about your business. You already had a cute picture of him -- one taken when he had fallen asleep behind you -- as his profile picture, so you hurriedly began typing out a name for him. 

It really wasn’t a big deal to you, and you knew it really wasn’t that big of a deal to Seungcheol either. He’s seen your contact list. Everyone had their first and last names in it, save for your family members. There were no emojis, no cute names. 

Truly, you thought, Seungcheol should consider himself privileged. 

When he returned, he had Wolfie in his arms. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely dwarfed by his bulk and the added fluff that his oversized hoodie gave him. She was perfectly content, however, and when he sat down next to you all Wolfie did was shift in his arms to further mold into his chest. 

“So?”

You smiled, holding your phone against your chest. “I don’t know, sharing the contact name of your beloved is sort of a private thing.”

He shot you a glare. 

Giggling, you held out your phone for him. 

🌸💘 My Seungcheol 💘🌸

“Is it appropriately cute?”

He hummed, tilting his head. “What are the flowers?”

“Your lips,” you said matter-of-factly. “Your lips remind me of pink blossoms.”

Shocked, Seungcheol flickered his eyes up to yours. His eyes, always rife with emotion, were round from the revelation. His lips -- his blossom pink lips -- parted, and like a magnet your eyes were on them. 

“Those are some dangerous words, baby.”

You shrugged, settling back against the couch. “Too bad you have Wolfie on you.”

He looked down at the cat, eyes narrowed. You could practically hear him cussing her out. Then he sighed, settling one of his hands on her back. Wolfie arched into it, and in the silence you could hear her beginning to purr. 

Seungcheol moved to rest against you, the two of you practically molding into one. You leaned against him, head on his shoulder, hand moving to join his in petting Wolfie. For a moment the two of you were quiet, enjoying one another, safe in the knowledge of the infatuation, adoration, yearning, the -- the love that the two of you shared, safe in the knowledge that it existed and thrived. Knowing that no matter the weight on the back, the other would be there to help brush off pebbles and destroy the rubble.

You moved your head, pressing a kiss against his shoulder. He hummed, and as you pulled back he swept down to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“You know,” he said, after the two of you settled back in your spots. “I saw the prettiest flower today while walking through the store. I took a picture of it because it reminded me of you.”

[literatecowboy]

Kinktober 2024

2. Voyeurism

Warnings: Gaz x Reader; voyeurism, masturbation, fem reader

The pit in Kyle’s stomach grew heavier day by day. The weight of the many sins he’d committed weighed heavy on his shoulders, he had not yet been crushed beneath him. This sin, though, was more burdensome to him than the world was to Atlas.

He palmed his stiff cock through his pants as he leaned against the window, binoculars raised. The apartment under surveillance was still and dark. The neighbor, on the other hand…

Since he’d first seen you step from the shower, cloaked by steam, he’d been enamored. Kyle watched as you dried yourself, watched as you lotioned your beautiful legs and bent tantalizingly over to pick up your dropped towel. 

He was in love, though he’d never met you. It was a love that bloomed as he watched for weeks as you cooked, bundled up under a blanket with a book, returned tired from work. He’d seen you cry and laugh and kiss your cat and put your groceries away, and his heart had hammered in his chest each time.

Kyle cursed as the soft light of your lamp illuminated your body in your bed. He watched as you slid your hands down your body, reaching between your legs. You were putting on a show for him tonight.

“Fuck,” he hissed, using his free hand to unzip his pants and work his cock free. He bit back a moan as he squeezed himself at the base, watching as you touched yourself. 

He thought about how good you would feel around his cock. How you’d moan and writhe beneath him as he fucked you the way you deserved. Kyle pumped his cock roughly, wishing only that the sounds of your sweet moans would carry across the road and drift into his window. 

Kyle watched as you squeezed your breast, your back arching as your fingers worked faster at your clit. His eyelids drooped, heavy with lust as he worked his fist faster up and down his cock. 

You would take it so well. You’d beg him for more, beg him to make you cum over and over again. On your bed, you twitched once, twice. Kyle picked up the pace. 

“Come on, love,” he murmured into the empty air. “Cum for me.” 

You did so on command, as if you’d heard from so far away. Your body jerked and trembled as you came, pleasure crashing over you like a wave, a warm feeling spreading over you.

“Fuck,” Kyle swore, his own orgasm hitting him quickly. He came into his hand, panting and unable to drag his eyes away from you. Beautiful you, laying in the warm light, basking in the glow of your orgasm. Beautiful you, unaware of Kyle watching you. Unaware that he was more determined than ever to pay you a visit.

[slytherinshua]

SEVENTEEN ATLA HEADCANONS

genre. headcanons. avatar the last airbender au. warnings. none. featuring. ot13 seventeen. wc. 1.6k. (around 100 words each) request. no. a/n. obviously i've been on a svt atla kick since burnt promises, second chances. i'd be open to writing fics for any of these small headcanons if anyone is particularly interested :)

SEUNGCHEOL

Ugh, Cheol is really hard. I kinda see him as any nation and also none at the same time. For the lack of other Water Tribe on the list, I’ll give him Water Tribe, but I don’t even think he’s a bender. He’d be a passionate hunter of the Southern Water Tribe, and a very good one, but not a bender. He’d always be eager to help out and fit his role as a true leader. He’s looked up to because he protects his people without fail. He’s good at strategics and known for his bravery. I see him fitting a role like Sokka’s father, but I don’t see him as anything glamorous like Water Tribe Royalty. He’s down to Earth and humble and honest. He leads and the people follow.

JEONGHAN

Jeonghan is an airbender. He’s witty and intelligent, and a great asset to his nation. He’d be in an Air temple close to the Earth Kingdom, and he often helps out with strategics if they ever need it. Definitely a kind and angel baby, but if there’s anyone who needs dealing with, he will personally take the task up. He’s world renowned and has allies and friends in every single nation. When he’s not busy, he’ll spend his time travelling around and immersing himself in the different cultures of the nations. He’s beaten Water Tribe hunters at their own hunt, evaded earthbender attacks in the ring because of how light he is on his feet. And his agility and wit proves to be useful whenever he goes head to head with a firebender. He can often predict their next moves and avoid attacks before they’re even fired at him.

JOSHUA

Joshua is Water Tribe!! Definitely a Water Tribe prince, or even a poor boy from the Northern Water Tribe whose parents couldn’t afford water bending lessons for him, so he would sneak around and watch lessons without getting caught. He’s mostly self taught, so he’s not exactly the best, but he can still hold his own. If he’s a Water Tribe prince, then he probably got bored with water bending very quickly as a child and started figuring out ways to skip his lessons lol. He knows clever ways to bribe or fool his masters into letting him slack off, but he also has to build enough skill to show at least a little improvement. He’s probably more interested in carving proposal necklaces to give to his future girlfriend than improving his bending skills.

JUNHUI

Jun is Fire Nation, and he’s extremely talented at Fire Bending. He probably runs a tea shop with his family and takes lessons on the side; just a regular middle class kid. He’s not aiming for a military position or anything high up, but he uses his skills to help him in daily life. He might have friends from places higher up in the city, and because of that, he got to take a visit to Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Definitely turns some heads— practically the whole school is crushing on him by the end of the 2 hour visit, and he enjoys the attention that he wouldn’t usually get at home. It’s safe to say that he’s invited back given the significant improvement in attendance and performance after his initial visit. 

SOONYOUNG

Another airbender, only because he’s so agile. Like the spider choreo really makes me see him as someone who just likes to swing around upside down for fun. He’ll play pranks on the older monks, or just anyone he can get his hands on. He’s a lot like Aang in that way. He definitely creates his own airbending moves, because he is a choreographer!!! Somehow takes a trip to the Earth Kingdom because it was his life goal to see a tigerdillo in real life. Once he meets one, he somehow adopts it, and settles down in the Earth Kingdom from there on! He’s perfectly happy, and can he even pose as an earthbender if he’s smart about it.

WONWOO

Anyone could probably guess that I see Wonwoo as Fire Nation. I wrote an entire 14.5k fic about it which is expecting a part 2, but I just think he fits it so much? Especially in a role like the Fire Lord or some notable higher up who is skilled at firebending and definitely owns a dragon (if we’re talking a time period before/during the dragon hunts). He’d be the type to just be a natural at it and reach a high mastery at an early age. He’s such a skilled fighter, and definitely knows how to control his flame. He prefers to study directly from dragons instead of old masters, whose teachings feel regurgitated and watered down, which sounds pretentious, but it’s one of the reasons why he got so good.

JIHOON

I see Jihoon as an Earth bender. He’s short and stout but HE'S SO BUFF. He definitely has the density in him to move some rocks, he’s practically built like The Boulder but without the height????? I definitely see him as part of the royal guard, but definitely not an Earth King. He might teach Earth Bending or get posted out on the coast near the Fire Nation or something— but he definitely has a military position. Somewhere where he can use his earthbending to its full potential. Not the most talkative, but definitely the most efficient, so he climbs the ranks like nobody's business and everyone knows to respect every word that comes out of his mouth. If you say even a word about his height, he’ll throw a rock at your head before you can finish the sentence.

SEOKMIN

It was hard to pick between Water Tribe and Fire Nation for Seokmin, but I think he’s ultimately Fire Nation. I see him as an actor for plays, and he definitely uses his firebending to win over the audience. It got to the point that even though he’s from a small town in the Fire Nation, he became a household name and got increasingly popular until he eventually found himself acting in front of the Fire Lord. Once he got rich enough from it, he got a spot in the most infamous acting troupe in the Fire Nation. His favourite role to play is, of course, the Dragon Emperor in Love Amongst the Dragons.

MINGYU

Just a bulky earthbender I don’t know what to say. He probably got recruited to some military position because he’s fit and can hold his own in a fight, but boy’s just really a sweetheart. He doesn’t enjoy smashing people with rocks, so he tries to get out of the military as soon as possible. He instead works as a carpenter of sorts? Builds elaborate structures with his earthbending, and has a surprisingly artistic touch to his creations. Popular with the older ladies because he is a gentleman.

MINGHAO

I see him as an airbender, but I cannot imagine him with a bald head LIKE HELP. But let's say he is, and for aesthetic purposes, keep the long haired Minghao. He practically floats and flies through the air with his airbendings. He’s probably more of a lemur guy than a sky bison guy. I can imagine him having 1 or 2 lemurs who he spends most of his time with. Obviously very light on his feet and into meditation. He’s one of those star students in the class that the teacher picks as an example for the other students to watch and learn from.

SEUNGKWAN

A waterbender, and he’s good because he focused and studied the traditions of it. He knows the importance of the basics, and when he’s teaching, he can get mad pretty quick if he catches a novice waterbender doing a technique lazily. He teaches them the hard way, making the floor an ice rink or slapping in the face with a water tentacle if they make a silly mistake. But he’s a respected master. (Not to say that he’s old, but he holds the respect of an old master). Also a great healer for the Water Tribe. He thinks it’s important for the men to not just learn how to fight with spears and slices of water, but also to heal the tribe, and he offers his lessons to the women of the tribe as well.

VERNON

Another Fire Nation boy. He’s so skilled he can redirect lightning and all that jazz. He’s a worldwide guy too, so he’s definitely familiar with the other nations and their bending to a certain extent. (Like Iroh, studying the Water Tribe helped him with creating new techniques within firebending). He has a dragon because he’s hot like that, and would hold master firebending classes lol. Definitely has connections to the Royal Family and I could even see him serving as a personal guard or something of that sort. His skills aren’t to be wasted, so he can snag a high paying position practically anywhere he wants.  

CHAN

Earth Kingdom kid from a poor family™, I mean it’s just so clear in my mind. I imagine his mom runs a corner store, and he likes to use his very limited earth bending skills to make the shop look prettier. If the wooden tables break down over time, he’ll earth bend a makeshift counter to display the trinkets for sale. He’s quite charming even though he doesn’t have much to say about himself. In the lower class of the Earth Kingdom, practically everyone knows him because he likes to go around and make new friends when he’s bored. He’ll help out the elderly if they need it, and flash a toothy grin to anyone he comes across.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @haecien,, @amara-mars

[yawnderu]

Believer - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

Based on this post by @actuallyhiswife!

Simon is a broken man. A piece of art no one has the patience to understand, simply accepting it's so abstract its own creator made it at random, up until you came along. Until you came along, taking years to break him down, to understand him better, to adjust your body language until it became something he could be comfortable with.

It took a full year. A full year until he started seeking for you without even realizing. Sitting down next to you in meetings, always checking your status on comms, willingly taking care of you when you get hurt during a mission, hunting down whoever dared hurt you, yet he still wouldn't call that love. Simon is too broken for love, and Ghost is too cold for it... things you seem to ignore when you first confess your love for him. The same way you ignore the pain of his rejection.

''You deserve better.'' Is all he tells you, tone as avoidant as possible as he simply focuses on cleaning his gun, assembling the parts almost on autopilot after years of using them. After years of killing, even when necessary. He doesn't even remember when he became numb to it all.

''I deserve you.'' Your hands are on his in an instant, not caring about the callouses and the rough texture of his fingers. He doesn't push you away. He can never push you away, no matter how much it stabs at his heart.

''I'm broken, lass. People like me don't deserve love.'' His hand tightens on yours ever so slightly despite his words.

''You say that, but you're always telling me shit you never tell anyone else. You take me stargazing, take me out to eat, you let me touch you. You let me get close.'' Your words hold no frustration, simply full of yearning and confusion, despite knowing the answer.

''That's not love.'' His gaze shifts towards you, the longing and emotions in his eyes unmistakable. His gaze doesn't soften for anyone but you, much to his dismay.

''I don't want to hurt you, love. I know I will, and I know it'll be bad.'' Everyone I ever loved died because of me. The longing in his eyes is replaced by pain. Memories of his family, of his friends, of the heavy burden he carries on his shoulders, crushing him down like Atlas holding the sky.

''Stubborn girl.'' He lets out a bitter chuckle, disbelief in his tone as he looks down at you, at the way you're removing his glove so you can hold his bare hand like a lifeline.

''You know it.'' The cheeky grin you shoot his way is enough to make the corners of his lips tug up, pupils dilating as he studies your expression.

He sighs and leans over, pressing his clothed forehead against yours. Examining you carefully, taking in the pure love in your eyes. It feels like forever until the words finally leave his mouth.

''I think I'm in love with you.'' The words feel foreign in his mouth, years and years of nothing but discipline and self-preservation made it unable for him to form any type of personal relationships until you came along, coming into his heart as if it was your right. In a way, he believes it is. If she's determined to love a broken man...

''You win.'' He tries to bring the coldness back to his voice, yet his love is so painfully obvious, bleeding out of his words like nothing.

''I love you.'' No more walls, no more barriers. He may be as difficult as they come, but you know his love is pure.

[the-badger-mole]

You are so awesome the-badger-mole you’re lovely saltiness is now officially living rent free in my head. I was watching a video where someone was ranking every atla and lok ship and all I could think the whole time was what your reaction to it all would be and was probably the only reason I could make it through a video where Kataang ended up ranked #1.

“Traveling the world so Aang could master the elements and defeat the firelord didn’t leave a lot of free time, so it wasn’t until the end of the show that Katara finally was able to accept how she feels about Aang. By the time Legend of Korra rolls around Aang and Katara have had three kids who take after each of them in different ways and Katara remains a loving mother and renowned healer.”

That quote from the video especially had me imagining what you would say to it all and now I gotta go reread Down the road and back again for peak anti-kataang and anti-lok saltiness because oof if that quote doesn’t unintentionally sum up how problematic Bryke’s writing is! The way that video was saying that stuff like they were positives has me feel like I’m going crazy so thanks for being awesome cause your blog and fics are my sanity.

The idea that Katara "didn't have time" to acknowledge her feelings for Aang is so laughable. The girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, and, btw, has had at least one crush on the show (IDK if I count Haru, but it seems she at least thought he was cute?). That girl didn't have time in all their travels, and as obnoxiously obvious Aang was being, to decide if she liked him or not? Please...🙄

Anyway, thanks for the love. Appreciate you.

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 12

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

Physician, Love Thyself by Ryuuto

Will tries not to let on just how high his standards are for himself or how they're slowly crushing him under their weight. It's hard for him to open up about it when he's afraid that at any moment, it'll all come crashing down on him. Yet, perhaps it's time for this son of Apollo to bleed a small portion of that pain off.

will's whole thing of never believing himself ENOUGH.....like he works and works and never stops pushing the target farther away huh. i don't think he ever lets himself rest in the satisfaction of grasping something. it aches. and the ambiguousness of this ending....weeping fr

2. Sick Day by Ryuuto

Will is not a fan of the winter. Sadly, this year, the winter isn't a fan of Will Solace, either, and is especially spiteful by making Christmas Eve the worst day of this season. Stupid winter, ruining his plans for a romantic Christmas Eve stroll through New York City with Nico di Angelo.

crying and the quiet intimacy. the satisfying ordeal of being known....of being LOVED......of them loving each other with all the magnetic poles of each other. god. i will never not be insane for established relationship fics and will having seasonal depression is so desperately important to me like

3. once more unto the breach by orphan_account

He is Atlas, and he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he is also Will Solace, a fourteen-year-old boy with blood on his hands and ghosts in his hollowed-out heart.

weeping and crying because i am never not thinking of this. the weight of the healer. no rest for the wicked. and this line in particular actually knocked me fckn flat:

"

At fifteen years old, Will Solace falls apart with as much grace as he does everything else, and he very nearly gets away with doing it alone.

Until Nico, that is.

"

UNTIL NICO THAT IS!!!!! EXCUSE ME!!!!

4. Of Rotten Liars and the Taste of Truth by @theroyalsavage

Three times Will Solace lies to Nico di Angelo the summer after the war with Gaea, plus one time he tells the truth.

me and 5 (3, whatever) plus ones. you know the drill. "will is a dork and nico's an idiot" correct. will “if i lie i throw up” solace so real. and awkward but determined nico my beloved

5. Between the Shadow and the Soul by @theroyalsavage

Of snow, fumbling kisses, Valentine's mornings, and the imperfect science of falling in love.

SO soft they are SO SO SO soft i am going to LOSE MY MIND....the teasing the comfort the LOVE!!! THE LOVE!!!!

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[aangarchy]

My friend is watching ATLA for the first time and was complaining about "Katara's many boyfriends." I had to stop and remind her that not only is Katara 13 and going through puberty and hormones, she's also never interacted with a male her age besides her brother. She never really thought romance could be an option for at least a long time, with how small her village is

Ugh, i genuinely have a deep rooted disgust for people who complain about Katara being a normal teenage girl in this show.

I also really wonder where they get the idea that she has many boyfriends, because the only guy she truly had a romantic connection with besides Aang was Jet. I'm assuming for the other "boyfriends" they mean Haru and Teo, both of whom were literally just friends with her and happened to help her with something. It's also not even about "suddenly romance being an option", it's not like she threw herself at every handsome boy she happened to stumble upon after leaving the south?

Haru and Katara bonded over lost parents and Katara did Haru a great service by inspiring him and his dad to get out of prison, and Katara never did any of that because she had a crush on Haru. She did it because she has an incredibly strong sense of justice and hates standing by when people are suffering and families are torn apart. A crush on Haru was never even implied, except for when Haru told Toph that Katara inspired him and his people to break free, and Katara blushed. But even that, she could just be bashful bc Haru gave her such high praise. With Teo, yea he literally just helped her get on a glider for the first time, i do not see a romantic connection whatsoever. Jet was truly the one guy that Katara fell for, because 1) he's older, 2) he saved her from fire nation soldiers and showed up her older brother, and 3) he's a good manipulator that knew Katara found him attractive and used it to his advantage.

It always seems like Katara specifically is being held to such high standards. She's a skank bc she has too many boys around her, she's annoying bc she brings up her mother a few times, she's bossy bc she tells Aang and Sokka not to do anything dangerous, she's overbearing bc she told Toph to help out while setting up camp.

It's misogyny 101. Sokka is allowed to be loud and obnoxious, Zuko is allowed to act out of anger and grieve his mother, but Katara apparently should just sit down and be quiet. People say all of this when Katara is easily one of the most fleshed out female characters of cartoons in the early 2000's, but because they're not used to women being fleshed out suddenly she's "too much".

Sorry for going on such a tangent but ppl like this truly do piss me off lmao.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

After handing our shoes over to the teenager at the counter and replacing them with the generic and ill-fitting bowling shoes, trying not to think too hard about how many random strangers have worn them before us, we make our way over to where Ash and Lex have already reserved a lane, bickering about how to enter our names into the machine.

Just as we’re sitting down, Lex leans over and bites Ash on the arm. “Ow!” He pulls away from her and rubs at the spot where she sank her teeth in, “Competition makes you so mean.”

“You being a dick makes me mean. Now delete it and walk away.”

I look up just in time to see the U and S disappear from the end of her name and chuckle under my breath. Even I know better than to use her full name under any circumstances lest I lose a limb.

Laughing, Ash hops out of the seat and walks over to us, lifting his sleeve to reveal teeth marks. “Can you believe this?”

“Yeah,” I say, “what did you think was going to happen?”

“I didn’t think she’d bite me,” he pulls his sleeve back down and turns to Dawn with a cheerful smile and says, “Hello,” giving her the opportunity she’s been itching for since I first told her about him.

“Hi! I’m Dawn.”

“Ahh, the twin! I’m Asher. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” She looks over to give me the “he’s cute” look which I do my best to ignore.

Ash plops onto the seat next to her and leans in to speak quietly, “So, this is probably an annoying question, but do you guys have any secret twin powers?”

“Of course,” she replies and then looks around to ensure no one is eavesdropping, “Telepathy. We can read each other’s minds.”

“Fascinating. What’s he thinking now?”

She looks over at me and squints her eyes. I’m suddenly worried about what she might say to him. As far as she knows, Ash is just a friend from work that I have a crush on and maybe had some weird dreams about. I give her a slight shake of my head and mouth the word, “Don’t.”

She turns back to Ash and says, “He wants me to keep my mouth shut. He’s afraid I’m going to say something to embarrass him.”

“Are you?”

“Probably.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun. I like you. Do you want to team up?”

“Absolutely.”

Fantastic.

I deflate a little at being teamed up with Lex. Don’t get me wrong, I love Lex, but I think a part of me just assumed I’d be with Ash. Seems like a silly assumption now that I think about it, but I’m disappointed, nonetheless.

As Lex takes her turn, Ash and Dawn continue to chat about me as if I’m not sitting right next to them, making me feel more anxious and awkward by the second.

“So, Atlas tells me you’re an artist.”

He glances at me, then back at Dawn with a sly smile, “He can’t stop talking about me, can he?”

“Not for a second. He’s obsessed.” She’s all too happy to play along, probably assuming Ash is fishing for confirmation that I like him or something. She has a tendency to meddle, always thinking I need help when it comes to dating when in reality, I just move at a different pace than she does.

“It’s sad really,” he tells her, “He needs to move on.” He gets up to take his turn as Lex cheers and skips over to me. I look up to see that she got a spare and am about to congratulate her when Ash looks at me and mutters, “We’re just friends, after all,” before he turns to walk away.

My smile falters as the sting of his words rushes through me. I clamp my jaw down, grinding my teeth and feeling foolish. How did I think for one second that changing our environment would somehow ease the tension between us?

I watch as he steps up to the lane, holding the ball in front of him with intense focus before stepping forward and tossing it toward the pins with perfect form, because of course he does. It spins down the lane with such force and precision that every one of the pins crashes down on impact, earning him a strike. He turns to us with bow as Dawn cheers and Lex yells out, “Fuck!”

I had no doubt I’d be the worst bowler out of all of us, but I didn’t expect everyone else to actually be good. I start to feel self-conscious about going up and taking my turn.

I suddenly see the whole night play out in front of me: the tension and passive-aggressive comments from Ash reminding me what an asshole I am, Lex getting frustrated at my lack of skill and being the reason we lose the game, and Dawn being so charmed by Ash that she’s completely oblivious to my misery while she tells him how he gives me butterflies and invades my dreams, only making the tension between us worse, and I wish we’d never come here at all.

“Don’t worry,” Lex pats my knee, “he got lucky. You got this.”

No, I don’t. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. But I don’t want to be dramatic about it by storming off. I have no choice but to suck it up and get through the night, so I might as well attempt to have fun.

I take a breath and stand to take my turn, picking up the ball and trying my best to focus on the weight of it in my hand to keep my increasingly dark thoughts at bay.

I step forward and toss the ball down the lane sloppily, surprised that it doesn’t slide immediately into the gutter. Instead, it skims the edge and takes out a single pin on the far corner before disappearing.

Normally, I’d make a joke about it, getting overly excited about my one pin, but I can’t bring myself to do that now. It would feel stupid and awkward and forced. I just want to slump back down in my seat and disappear into the background, but I can’t. I have to stand here in front of all of them, waiting for my ball to return so I can throw it one more time, hoping it goes slightly better than the last.

Lex calls me over and I apologize immediately, “I told you I was a terrible bowler.”

She shakes her head, “Nonsense. We will not lose this game, understand?”

“I don’t—”

“Just listen. The problem is, you’re too stiff. You just need to loosen up a little, relax your grip, and make sure not to swing your arm in front of you. You’ve gotta keep it straight.”

“Lex, I don’t think I’ve ever done anything straight in my whole life.”

She snickers and swats at me playfully, “Alright then, at least angle your body a little to compensate.”

“I’ll give it a try.” Her cheeriness and optimism make me feel a little better. I still don’t know why she’s being nice to me after what I did, but I’m grateful for it. I’m realizing that she’s become one of my closest friends over the last few years, and it would be devastating to lose her.

I toss the ball with more intention this time, keeping Lex’s advice in mind. At first, it looks like a nice roll, but in the end, it lands in the gutter, taking the last shred of my self-confidence with it, and leaving my remaining nine pins standing. At least now I can go sit down.

Dawn gives me a smile as she walks by me to take her turn, “You just need to warm up a bit, that’s all.” Right. That’s what I need.

I sink into my seat, staring at my hands when I see Ash out of the corner of my eye scooting closer to me. “I hate when that happens,” he says, “Heading right down the lane, you think you know exactly where it’s going and then, boom, takes a turn and lands in the gutter. Hurts, doesn’t it?’

I look over at him, at his eyes, uninviting and devoid of their usual brightness, and I wonder if this is how things are going to be between us now; I wonder if keeping our friendship intact was as foolish an idea as coming out here tonight. All I can muster is a quiet, “Yeah.” Then, I stand and turn to Lex, telling her, “I’m going to get some air,” and I escape to the nearest exit.

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