#advisor appreciation gang

[clonememesfrikyeah]

In the gc:

Boss: “Hey.”

Scorch: “Såłámĩ”

Fixer: “Hi!”

Sev: “Give me back my hÂmpster.”

Advisor: “Uhhhh.”

[crimsoncowboyy]

Are John and Arthur “Good” People? (An RDR Analysis)

A common comment I see on a lot of RDR posts is that, at the end of the day, John and Arthur are simply bad people. Usually, these comments can be seen in game clips where the player controlling Arthur has him do something drastically evil, such as mass murdering an entire town, just for fun. However, these also exist under posts that are meant to praise the characters of the game, showcasing their redemption arcs and appreciating how far both John and Arthur grow from the beginning of the game series. First, I think it is important to note that for the sake of the game being interactive, players must be able to have autonomy over what either John or Arthur do. Player autonomy within RDR is meant to serve as a world-building mechanism that unites the player with the intricate environmental designs, side-character interactions, and atypical lifestyles of John and Arthur. The more one explores, the more immersed they become with the characters they play as, and this makes the eventual deaths of both protagonists even more impactful. Yet, some players instead utilize open-world freedom to harass and harm numerous NPCs for seemingly no reason. Sure, Arthur and John can be made to rob random houses and beat up women in saloons, but this is not representative of the canonical story Rockstar is portraying. This leads to the other point I brought up, which is that many people argue that John and Arthur do not technically redeem themselves, and I want to dissect this by explaining what RDR teaches players about what it means to be a good person.

To tackle this complicated question, it is essential to recognize that the world Arthur and John come from is not a world that RDR players have ever lived in. The Wild West as a whole is essentially its micro-society that died about over one hundred years ago, and rather than going to war with other countries, Wild West “gangs” go to war with rival groups that hold ideologies the other finds to be immoral or corrupt. This world has its own traditions, power dynamics, borders, and way of life that can be defined by two main concepts: anarchy and poverty. Yet, like all political ideologies and lifestyles, some issues and hypocrisies arise from these values. Despite being anarchists who view the rich and the government as the world’s true enemies, micro-governments form within the “gangs” of the Wild West that develop into an almost cult-like reality that all people knowingly or unknowingly accept. Dutch Van Der Linde is a prime example of this. He rescues children, veterans, people of color, and outlaws who often themselves are victims of capitalism, racism, and American corruption and takes them in as his “children.” Dutch can be analyzed as the gang’s leader, and he ultimately sets up a society where he has loyal advisors, such as Hosea Matthews, but at the end of the day, only his word is to be followed, despite any doubts or opposition. Additionally, despite giving those living in poverty food, shelter, “education,” and a sense of community, Van Der Linde isolates members of his gang from the outside world through unique manipulation that eventually has the gang turn against one another.

Even though Dutch claims he opposes the structure of the United States government and the way it is often a form of evil, he does little to fight against the system. Instead, he uses it as an excuse to gain power in his way and steal from those he feels as a whole wronged him, but he sends loyal gang members to do the dirty work for him. This leads to a vicious cycle of poverty perpetrated by both Wild West gang leaders and the government itself; to put it simply, the government does little to help those born into unfortunate circumstances, poverty, families of color, and more. It then deems these people to be “inhuman,” causing those same people to flee to whoever will accept and guide them. Then, when the government gets wind of what those “inhuman” people are now up to, they demand that these lifestyles get abandoned and destroyed, but still fail to provide an alternate lifestyle of help to get people on the right track. This isolation and lack of empathy from those of governmental power both cause these Wild West outlaws to exist in a balance of stark independence and cultish loyalty to those who offer a sense of belonging. Thus, a vicious cycle continues.

Yet, even with menial knowledge of the Wild West lifestyle, it does not take long for players to get a sense that John and Arthur are two strong examples of what morality within this dubiously structured world can be analyzed to look like. The only times we see John and Arthur be “cruel” (outside of TikTok gameplay clips from teenage boys…) is when they want to say or do something mean to somebody. For example, Arthur demeans Sadie by calling her “woman,” but this is because he feels she is claiming to be better than other people in the camp because she does not want to cook. At other times, he uses the term “woman” or similar derogatory terms when trying to assert dominance or intimidate others. Arthur does this because of the loyalty he has to Dutch; he believes he is acting how he must act to provide for the gang, thus making Arthur’s motivations clear: loyalty. No matter what, Arthur is loyal to the people he perceives to be his family and saviors, especially Dutch. When Arthur is not working and encounters people he has genuine conversations with, we see the kindness, empathy, and creativity that Arthur possesses, even if Arthur himself downplays his own beautiful characteristics. Even if you always choose to antagonize gang members, you will not lose honor as a result of it, implying the gang understands that Arthur has and always will mean well. He openly expresses that he believes in equality, and we see through his interactions with women, people of color, and even those with alternative lifestyles, such as Charles Chatenay, that he respects people if they follow their hearts and lack impure intentions. This is why Arthur resonates so heavily with Eagle Flies, who wants to start a war against the United States Army because of their treatment of his tribe, while Arthur despises Micah who only serves himself.

John and Arthur are similar to one another. One thing to make note of is that they symbolize a sibling duo that grew up in chaos and processed it differently. Arthur, who is older than John, takes a much more “loyal dog” approach to his upbringing. Since Dutch and Hosea took Arthur in and provided him with the paternal comfort he always sought even before the “Van Der Linde gang” was fully established, Arthur dedicates his entire life to the two. He is scarily dedicated to serving them, both because he adores the gang as a whole and because he has not formed an identity outside of Dutch’s hold. Dutch does this on purpose, essentially grooming Arthur to be an unbeatable bodyguard, and takes advantage of Arthur’s desperate-for-praise nature and gradually exposes Arthur to more and more violence until it is just a factor of his life. However, John juxtaposes Arthur’s fervently faithful nature, as he is younger and joined the gang after it was a bit more developed. John shows a much more defiant and anti-authority streak than Arthur does. While Arthur does value alone time as a means of reflection, John shows a tendency to make choices for himself, even if this is at the expense of other people. Yet, there is something almost childish about John, even when he’s robbing someone or being threatened by the government. In the face of danger, he will make snide remarks, and while being stubborn, he will display an almost silly sense of opposition to whatever he dislikes or does not want to do (think about how he was acting while being driven in the car in RDR1). Yet, deep down, John has a similar sense of loyalty to Arthur, and this is where their two arcs truly divide; Arthur is causing him because of his unconditional loyalty to a decaying cause, while John wants to be better for his wife, Abigail, and son, Jack, but does not know how to be. It is very evident that John loves Abigail more than anything. Around her, his defiant, angry nature will subdue or disappear entirely. Abigail, who also grew up in unfortunate circumstances and turned to prostitution as a result, understands who John is at the core, and he understands her. She is the one person John, in his own strange way, is vulnerable with. He lets Abigail slap him if he says something rude, performs gestures of love as a means of apologizing to her, and goes to Mexico while it is in the midst of a bloody civil war to take down Bill, Javier, and Dutch after the gang disbanded all to secure her freedom from government captivity. John’s love for Abigail is so important because he is somebody we see resent how he gets frequently used like a pawn by people in power, but with Abigail, he accepts that sense of authority and respects her because of it.

So, if John loves Abigail so deeply, why did he run away after the birth of Jack? Does this not make him a deadbeat father and a bad man? At first glance, John’s relationship with Jack does appear to have a level of unhealthiness to it. Not only did he miss a year of Jack’s life, but as he gets older, John tends to put down Jack’s less “masculine” interests. While this is wrong to do to Jack, it is difficult to claim that John’s actions were meant to be purposely cruel. This is somebody who knows very little about love, family, and fatherhood. Sure, John gets glimpses of these realities through the gang, but the gang is still made up of lots of people who are coping with traumatic pasts. The gang, who are now all adults, understand the reality of their situation and the people who are in the same circumstances as them, but John knows that Jack deserves better than the dwindling life of a Wild West outlaw. Yet, John does not know how to obtain this life for his son. The only fatherly figures he has had raised him to be but another player in this violent world, and otherwise, John has lacked positive and authoritative male role models in his life. So, John panics and disappears not just on Abigail and Jack, but on the gang as a whole. Upon his return months later, almost everybody welcomes him back with open arms; even Abigail. She understands that John fled not because he is unloving, but because he is too loving and fears he will raise a son that will turn on as hardened and unfortunate as him, and that is the last thing John wants. Even though they fight and sometimes fail to communicate efficiently, John and Abigail know that deep down, they mean everything to one another, and no matter how idiotic John acts, it is out of fear, not pure cruelty.

Both RDR games end with the protagonist’s death which symbolizes a cycle of violence being broken, even if it is a more gradual process. John and Arthur have spent their lives essentially in exile. Their biological families and home country have abandoned them in numerous ways, and this resulted in an outlaw lifestyle that is now being forcefully put to an end by the very same government that catalyzed its creation. They have mastered how to fight for what little they have and how to steal from upper-class Americans as an act of retaliation, but all this does is trap Arthur and John in their angry pasts. Rather than Dutch helping the two get back on their feet, he instead encourages John and Arthur to fight and take from the same society that displaced them. Yet, this brutality does nothing but make the two groups hate each other more and more, especially as Dutch’s plans began to change from simply robbing the rich to becoming the very force that enables poverty patterns to continue. John and Arthur begin to recognize and oppose this because of the empathy both possess, and they start to resent Dutch’s changing ways. Once again, we do not see either man kill in cold blood, seek to harm the innocent, take enjoyment in murder, or act in self-serving manners. From the angle of the Wild West being its own society, John and Arthur have the roles of being military men who finally see the extent of the damage their world has caused, even though they tried to convince themselves that their world was different. Thus, the cycle breaking begins. After being diagnosed with tuberculosis, Arthur decides to spend the time he has left helping strangers with an array of problems and assisting those whose lives he feels he has negatively impacted. One of Arthur’s final moments is him either going back to get the money that will symbolize Arthur reclaiming a sense of personal power in the world that is crumbling around him or him helping John with one final major escape from the life of violence he was born into. This is after Arthur already made numerous decisions to save John from danger, whether it be a wolf pack or a prison island, because despite Arthur’s criticism of John’s actions, Arthur knows that deep down, John is not somebody who acts with the intention to be bad. Seeing this goodness and selflessness from a man who grew up in the same life as himself, John continues to try and be a different person for the sake of protecting his family. John tries hard for this, and he eventually builds a ranch for him, Abigail, and Jack to live on together and search for a sense of normalcy, which Abigail appreciates more than anything.

However, progress is not linear. Despite John working hard to outgrow the only lifestyle he ever really knew, he cannot fully escape the trauma and chaos that trails him. This is partially due to him occasionally slipping back into his old ways, especially in the face of danger, where he continues to fight rather than aim for peaceful means of mediation, and partially due to the American government doing what it does best: fail at true justice. Even though John has started to create a new life for himself, the government ignores their role in the development of the Van Der Linde gang, instead kidnapping John’s family years later and only agreeing to release them if John can take down Dutch, Bill, and Javier. They send him into the war-ridden Mexico region with minimal resources, assistance, or guidance, causing John to have to do what he used to do with Dutch, which is kill, meddle in other people’s battles, and get taken advantage of by more powerful forces. Once again, John only kills because he sees it as fighting for the greater good; a reality where he and his family can be free and his past can be eradicated. He does not take joy in fighting for or against the Mexican government, he is simply working with what little he has to save his family. Even then, we still see John’s heart through his care for Luisa, Bonnie, and even strangers that he assists on the road. Despite this and performing what the American government asked of him, they still gun him down at the game’s conclusion, which John accepts rather than evades because he wants his family to settle down and live to become something better, even if he is not there to see it.

Even though RDR1’s epilogue shows Jack to now be angry and hurt as well, there is still something inherently different about his life compared to that of John and Arthur. Jack’s dad was present in his life, even if imperfectly, he had a mother who loved him dearly, even though we know she passed away a few years after John did, and Jack has an understanding of the foundation of a life built around love and family. It is possible that Jack may have the same streaks of violence as John did, but for the first time, the Marston lineage is seeing a glimmer of hope that has seldom been seen before, all because one man dared to stop fighting against the past and instead fight for a brighter future, even if not for himself. Now, does all of this backstory and explanation pardon everything Arthur and John have done? Absolutely not. No human being is capable of getting through life without hurting people, involving themselves in situations they should not have a part in, only trusting perfect people, or making bad choices in the face of unfamiliarity or turmoil. However, it proves something greater than simply stating if John and Arthur are “good” men because oftentimes, people grow up in worlds where goodness is not an apparent reality. Yet, what can be said is that Arthur and John tried to better and fight for a greater, purer good, even at their own expense. Sure, their pasts cannot be eradicated, and they cannot change what is already done, but what they do have power over is how they shape the rest of the time they have left. So, they do what others have rarely done for them and take a gamble on embracing love to both change for the people they cherish and to be changed by those who love them.

All countries and communities are united through collective acts of violence, war, pride, and enabling of cruelty. The United States government and the Van Der Linde gang are both guilty in that regard. Yet, if the absence of all imperfections and the capability for one to escape the harsh circumstances they exist in is what makes somebody good, then nobody would ever be able to respect themselves, because, in one way or another, everybody hurts and gets hurt in return. What makes a true difference, however, is the ability to acknowledge one’s shortcomings, whether or not these are intentional, circumstantial, or implicit, and utilize that realization to push not to become perfect or guiltless, but better than before. At the end of the day, that urge to push for a gentler way of living for the sake of bringing peace to both yourself and who or what you love the most is what makes Arthur and John good people. Deeply complex, flawed, regretful, and troubled, but good. If everybody valued goodness as the desire to do better rather than fight against an unchangeable past, maybe the world as a whole would strive for decency and ultimately unite us all.

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

Thank you for reading! This is my first time posting on Tumblr, and I am looking forward to posting and engaging with more commentary of RDR. My essay is not proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes. :)

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Hiiii avid reader here!!!

Just wondering if you have any longfics

I love errormare and fics like nightmare and patience

Thank you!!!

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Nightmares are still dreams too ( Nightmare x reader) by Spibble_chips (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Rumors and talk of creatures haunting the night had started growing popular within the kingdom causing people and monsters to grow more weary of their prince. Due to lack of staff his highness prince Nightmare ordered for new people to work staff. You lived a dull boring life in a village shrouded by mystery as it was the last place prince Dream was seen. Until you are selected to be prince Nightmare's advisor. Nightmare isn't your normal prince hiding a secret affair or anything like that. No, he's hiding many secrets in the dark allowing the kingdom to be in darkness about the dissaperance of his brother. All while everyone is suffering the backlash of war between humans and monsters. As you work for Nightmare you learn of these secrets and realize everyone sealed their fates when they entered the castle. As coronation day draws closer the more you realize how much danger everyone is truly in.

Are You Really All That Bad? by MxPhsCafe (Explicit, Complete)

Classic scared his crush, now they ran off to be with the same people he wanted to keep them away from. Mc(Main Character) Pronouns: They/He Mc is trans

Falling For You by orphan_account (Explicit, Incomplete)

One day, during a hard-fought battle, Nightmare sacrifices himself to save his teammates. With the last of his strength, teleports himself and his teammates to the safety of another universe. However, with his fading power, his teammates and him end up scattered about the city of New Ebott. Luckily you find him. Finding the first human he's met that treats him with kindness, Nightmare finds himself reluctantly drawn to you, along with the rest of his team. How long can Nightmare avoid his duties to the multiverse before everything comes crashing down on him? Nightmare, Axe, Dust, Killer, and Cross x Reader

Hiraeth by owl_bones (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

You’re not sure how you fell into the anti-void, but all you want to do is go home. Can you find it in a multiverse of infinite realities? Do you still belong there? Maybe accepting help from this group of weird skeletons was a bad idea.

A Hop, a Skip, and Six Skeletons in my Apartment? by SashPalette (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

You live in your mom and step-dad’s house. One day you meet some skeletons in their living room, and you’ll never be the same. You move out after a month of knowing them, and you finally feel free. You work at a cafe a couple blocks from your apartment, and also do drawing commissions for money. At some point you realize how much your skeleton boys mean to you, and you join their cute little poly. Putting this fic on hold for a while, lots lots going on. Ty for reading tho! I appreciate it<3

Thanks for the recommendation! The fic being recommended is…

Nightmare and Patience by SoothingEpione (Explicit, Incomplete)

Nightmare and his gang encounter a mage and decide you know what? Their castle could use a decent maid. Yet, as in any fanfic under the sun, there's a twist, and there's something more to this mage--who requires Nightmare's special brand of magic to stay sane. Diana is soon saddled with five skeletons who seem more intent on annoying her to death than anything, and despite all rationale, finds herself drawn to their dark leader for reasons beyond even her comprehension. Too bad it seems like everyone in the Multiverse seems hellbent on getting between her and Nightmare. Started out as a reason to write Nightmare porn and ended up having an actual plot. Lord help us.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Your Side of Town [Aaron x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@taybrinafavs) Center (@dilfgifs) Right (The Killers - From "Your Side of Town" music video)

Prompt: When the reader starts going to UC Riverside to get her PhD, she meets the dangerous and enigmatic Aaron Hotchner in her Tax Fraud class. She is forced to ask why she likes him, and if he is as dangerous as her friend, Emily Prentiss, says. 

Pairing: College!Aaron x Non-BAU!Reader, fem!Reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: Angst 

Word Count: 14.5K 

Content Warnings: Language, mention of drinking alcohol, beating [Aaron], mention of gangs and criminal organizations, a brief description of murder and blood. Please let me know if I missed any. 

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! This is a long note, but hopefully, it will explain this fic better before you read it. It started this story a few months ago when The Killers released the song “Your Side of Town.” It gave me such strong Aaron vibes that I had to write a fic based on it. I decided to write a college AU where the reader is in school with Aaron who is working on his law degree. I’ve made some changes to the setting and period, but I’ve tried to keep the characters as true to the show as possible, even with the changes. Much of this chapter is setting up the future storyline and depending on if people like this chapter or not, I might work on a part two. This is something very different for me, so I hope it’s okay. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n 

y/f/c/d = Your favorite coffee (or coffee adjacent drink). 

d/b = department building 

y/l/n = your last name. 

y/f/s = your favorite subject 

The California sun beat down on y/n, as she walked toward campus She walked quickly, even if she didn’t need to. Her pace demonstrated her stress. She had barely slept even though she had intentionally gone to bed early. y/n couldn’t tell if it was worse to be in bed unable to sleep or be awake and dreaming, longing, praying for sleep. She couldn’t decide and she was too nervous to think about it at the moment. The walk from the commuter parking lot to the UC Riverside campus was pretty, but it was a hot day. As y/n dipped into her normal coffee shop, it was a bit more crowded than usual, but certainly not as bad as it would be at 10 a.m. 

Perhaps getting up and out of her apartment at 6 a.m. had paid off. As she reached the counter, y/n ordered a coffee straight and an iced y/f/c/d. She lingered by the pickup counter, looking at the mostly older patrons sitting and reading the local paper or chatting with friends who were up as early as themselves. 

These people didn’t seem like students. One or two of the twelve patrons of the shop could be seniors, but it was hard for her to tell. y/n knew she was rubbish at guessing ages. Always had been. y/n’s name was called shortly after and she made it back outside. From the coffee shop, it was only a short walk to the crosswalk that would take her onto campus proper. Because her hands were full, she leaned her hip against the crosswalk button. The electronic voice droned out, “Wait to cross, West Campus Drive.” y/n let out a sigh. She knew her anxiety was unfounded. She had graduated from undergrad, and then grad school, there was no reason she should not be able to obtain her PhD in four or five years or so. 

Even if this was the case, imposter syndrome was still a constant stalker. The crosswalk voice told her she was good to walk. y/n had zoned out, and sure thing. The walk sign was on. y/n got a move on. The road wasn't long, but cars were known to speed down the blind curve, and over the summer, when y/n had moved into her apartment, got to meetings with her advisor, gotten used to campus, and gotten to know her two roommates, she had seen many an accident on West Campus Drive. She didn’t fancy getting into an accident. Not when their life was finally coming to something. 

y/n had agreed that this was going to be the year that she stopped running from her past. She contemplated this as she made it safely onto campus and the short walk to her d/b. As she approached the door, a colleague whom she was getting to know, Ted Anderson, walked up the steps. He saw that she didn’t have a free hand and moved more quickly. He pulled the door open and flashed her a smile before saying, “Moring, y/l/n. You ready for this?” y/n gave him a small smile back and said, “As ready as I’ll ever be. I’ve got my syllabi printed, my two coffees, and Fraud in the U.S. tonight at six, so if it’s not a good day, at least it will be a busy one.” Anderson nodded as he moved behind her into the building saying, “I’m sure you’ll do great.” y/n gave him a soft smile as they diverted paths. Her office was on the third floor and his on the first. y/n wasn’t sure why she had been graced with an office with a window, but she would enjoy the sunlight streaming through the window as she worked. She had nothing to complain about there. 

The first half of the day went well. The two sophomore-level courses on _y/f/s had gone by quickly. The first day both lecture halls had been packed with around two hundred students each. The imposter syndrome seemed to melt away as a learned mask of confidence and the need to be in control took its place, even if the persona wasn’t fully formed yet for herself or the class. It was refreshing. It gave her the boost that she needed until lunchtime rolled around. y/n moved to the department office and got some copies of a reading from the student worker, got a fresh cup of much worse coffee from the shared office pot. 

The last two classes of the day were more varied than the first. One was a junior-level cross-cultural course on y/f/s and the last, at 3:30 p.m., was a freshman introductory course on y/n’s field of study. Although it already felt far too early to be behind on work on the first freaking day of the semester, that didn’t mean that there weren’t things to do. Chief of which was annotating the U.S. Fraud and Compliance course that y/n was auditing this semester. y/n’s field of study and research was primarily in equity and inequality in the United States over the last two decades. As it turned out, things like tax fraud and White-Collar crime turned out many of the policies that caused inequality and not murder or violence as the government and law enforcement liked to tout every year with new stats that “Crime was going up.” 

Sure Organized crime was a part of it, but a lot of the original crime syndicates had come out of the early 1920s because of prohibition and bootlegging. And new crime rings had popped up from the disastrous War on Drugs. The policy had only seemed to push cocaine into marginalized communities which allowed the law to continue over-policing and criminalizing those communities. Thus, the desire to audit the Fraud course. 

The elderly professor, Dr. Porter, had been kind enough to respond to y/n’s email asking if he would allow it. He had requested a meeting with her in his office in central campus. She had gone, and they made their introductions. Dr. Porter had asked, “So why do you want to take the course? It’s a pretty small class, with only twenty-two students. There’d be room for you, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page. I’d require that you do all the work and participate in the class. It wouldn’t be fair to the other students.” y/n explained her research to the man and he listened and took some notes. When she had finished her explanation, Mr. Porter nodded and said, “That sounds very interesting. I’d be happy for you to take the course as long as you don’t think this coursework along with your teaching and research will be too much for you?” 

y/n had thought about this, labored about it even. However, she knew that it would be a lot. However, taking a course on the subject taught by an expert in the field, felt like a safer bet than trying to learn it all herself. That was just too much history and policy for her to attempt to grasp solo. With a determined look, y/n nodded and said, “Yes. It’d be an honor to Take this with you and your students. Thank you so much for making this accommodation for me. Porter smiled and said, “Well, thank you for your enthusiasm. Fraud and Tax Law isn’t something people usually get excited about. It’s bound to be an interesting semester.” The man’s words were a foretelling of the start of something much bigger than a student taking on an extra class.

         y/n turned her attention to the syllabus for the course. It was thick, with pages on pages about the class, an introduction for the materials to be covered, the four pre-class reading assignments, two pages of prerequisites, and then the grading system, required texts and materials, and lastly, The course calendar. y/n had skimmed it ounce and done all of the pre-readings which were stashed in a file folder in her suede shoulder bag. Now, she was going to sit down and thoroughly annotate the lengthy syllabus. When y/n had finished with that, she moved outside to get a quick bite to eat and another coffee before she would need to head to her office, grab her things, and head across campus to the Law Building. 

The quad was now much busier with students scurrying about to and fro. y/n moved into the crowd and moved her way upstream to the crosswalk she had been at a few hours prior. y/n had intended to pack a lunch, but in the bustle of the morning, it had slipped her mind. She wasn’t going to be too hard on herself about it. She would make sure to bring one tomorrow and all the days after. One meal out wasn’t going to ruin her budget. y/n did have to keep a pretty strict budget. Even if UC Riverside was a preeminent school in California, and even though her department had offered her a position in the program and waived her tuition costs, with rent, gas, and food prices all at a premium, the small pay she got from her lecturing always seemed to be running low by the end of the month. Thus, the need for a budget. If she worked hard enough and was dedicated to her financial plan, she would be able to start some savings. She needed that. She wasn’t going to be caught unawares like she had in the past. She wanted to settle. To stop running. And that took a different kind of work than constant escapism. 

After a light meal, y/n moved back to the coffee shop from before and got a coffee and a shot of espresso. y/n doctored her coffee the way she liked and then walked back to campus. If nothing else, her constant desire for coffee got her some daily exercise. Everyone she had spoken to had promised her that Cali would be a consistent cool temperature. However, as the five o’clock sun beat down on her, if did not feel cool. The month she had moved in with her roommates, the papers and TV kept saying that they were in a “record heat wave,” and that the heat was expected to keep rising until the first two weeks of September. y/n longed for it to be just a bit cooler. A 70-degree day would heal her and put her at ease. The heat did the opposite. 

Back in her office, y/n took off her blazer and fanned herself with some loose papers. She sat, and drained the espresso knowing this much caffeine was a bad idea so late in the day, but that was a later problem. For now, she sat down, took a few deep breaths, and gathered her things for her cross-campus commute. When everything was packed and ready to go, she checked her outfit, choosing to leave the blazer behind. She didn’t need to impress the people in this class as much as she did for her students. Entering the large lux building, y/n moved up the stairs to the fourth floor and found her class. There were still twenty minutes before the lecture would begin, but that would give her time to find a seat that was in the back so the real students could be close to Dr. Porter.

         There were four students already in the class scattered in the small space. There were tables, with two chairs at each table. They were set in two neat rows that led to the front of the room with the wooden lectern and the bulky equipment for the projector. y/n took a seat at the table on the far-left side of the room. There were three extra seats in the room to accommodate the twenty-two students and herself. Thus, she felt alright if she sat in the seat near the row and not next to the wall. It would give her a better view of the screen. y/n had an idea that she was going to be having a lot of eye strain this semester. A few more students moved into the room, and y/n got out her colored markers and notebooks, and the pre-readings along with the syllabus. 

Just as y/n was taking the first sip of her coffee, five students walked in followed by Dr. Porter who called her to the front of the class. y/n flushed slightly but waited for the man sitting across from her to get seated. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder, black Levi’s, a white shirt, and a leather jacket. He was far less professional-looking than many of the other students in the room. 

Some of the younger men even wore suits, though y/n was unsure if such gestures mattered to the law professors or not. The man was, if not professional, at least very attractive. He had smooth light skin and a sharp jaw. His dark hair contrasting his skin was short and had a little curve in the front, framing his face well. The man gave her a wicked smile, his dark brown eyes captivating as she moved past him now that he was finally seated. For a moment, y/n thought that those were the kinds of eyes she could get lost in. The thought only lasted that, though, a moment. She pulled herself together and thought, “Come on now, some pretty boy isn’t going to turn your head like a teenager, this isn’t a romance.’ Those types of feelings were uncharacteristic for y/n, and she let the idea pass quickly the man turned to who appeared to be his friend and said, “Yeah, I’d skip Constitutional with Leery. Try and see if you can get a section with Menendez. He made it fun, as strange as those sounds coming from me.”

         y/n moved down the aisle and got some looks from the other students. When she got to the older man, she smiled at him and asked, “What can I do for you, Dr. Porter?” Porter pointed to the Rolodex and said, “Do you know how to work these things? This one is frozen on a blank slide. I’ve not grown with the technology as you can see.” y/n nodded and said, “Let me see if I can get it working for you, Sir.” y/n moved behind the equipment and knelt. She made sure her skirt was at an acceptable level. Even if no one was behind her to see anything and she was wearing black tights, it was a natural teacher habit to make sure everything was covered appropriately. 

The slide deck appeared to be jammed. y/n fiddled with it with her finger for a moment and it slipped back into place with a satisfying click. y/n looked up to Dr. Porter and asked, “Do you have the deck you want to use for today?” The man nodded and looked around his desk for a second before he found the miniaturized slides and handed them to her. y/n slotted them into the space and pushed them down. She looked up at the screen and it now read the first slide: “Tax Fraud in the United States. LW5000. Fall 1991. Dr. E. L. Porter.” y/n stood up and the Doctor said, “You’re a lifesaver. I always need someone younger than me to help me with this new-fangled technology. How was your first day? Did everything go smoothly?” y/n nodded and said, “I’m happy to help anytime, and the first day was good. Busy but good.” Porter smiled and y/n moved back to her seat. Not all of the class hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening at the front, but some had been watching the two speak so causally with looks of veiled interest. 

y/n moved back to her seat, the man in the leather jacket shot her a quizzical look, one eyebrow raised higher than the other. y/n turned her face away from his gaze, trying to hide the rising blush in her face. She wished someone less attractive had decided to sit next to her. Honestly one of those pretentious suits would do fine, but she was happy with her spot and she wasn’t planning on moving. She was sure the attractive man would do something to irk her and stop whatever little infatuation she felt for him. 

The class started in earnest and because it was such a small class, the professor had everyone give a small two or three-sentence introduction with each student’s name, what year they were in, and what they hoped to do once they graduated. Dr. Porter started at the front and moved back. The answers ran the gambit from a desire to work in the FBI fraud department, to a criminal lawyer, to a CPA. y/n noted names of students who seemed particularly driven but not overconfident. She knew she was going to need help with the course given it wasn’t her area of study. When it got to the man sitting across from her, she looked at him. He raised a lazy hand and said, “Hey, I’m Aaron Hotchner. I’m in L2 and I want to be a public defender when I graduate.” At hearing his name, some gave a little gasp, and others shot him a dirty glare. This reaction didn’t seem to bother him. However, it left y/n at a bit of a loss. She had no clue why this man’s classmates had reacted this way. There was a dynamic playing out here that she was not aware of. 

The university taught around 26,000 students each semester and there was no way she could keep up with half the drama. It took half a second to realize that she was the last person who needed to speak, and she snapped back to attention. y/n gave a small smile and said, “Hi. I’m y/n y/l/n. I’m just auditing this class. I’m a PhD candidate in the y/d department. This class aligns with my research and Dr. Porter graciously is allowing me to sit in.” Porter inclined his head toward her and said, “We’re happy to have you Ms. y/l/n. Now with the introductions over, let’s cover the basics of the Criminal Tax System. It will be helpful if you pull out your readings as I will be calling on some students to answer questions.” 

Everyone shuffled to get the readings out of their bag. y/n looked as Aaron pulled the readings out of his shoulder bag and flipped to the first page of the reading. If he seemed very casual in his dress, the copious notes he had taken on the reading showed that he was at least taking this class seriously. y/n wondered if she should add his name to the list of people to try and befriend for help, but the class's response to his being here had her hesitate. She didn’t want to get involved in some bigger drama that she wasn’t aware of. She looked up from his papers only to catch his dark brown eyes. Both of them looked to the front of the class as Dr. Porter called on the first student for an answer. Neither y/n nor the enigmatic man across from her got called during the first three hours of class. The last slide on the Rolodex was the lengthy homework included a chapter from the required textbook and five separate cases for review. Dr. Porter dismissed everyone. Some students moved to the front to introduce themselves to the professor while others moved out into the hallway. It was dark as y/n moved outside. As she pulled her shoulder bag up and over her neck, someone called her name. y/n turned and found Parker, a student who seemed like a nice and cool student trying to catch up to her. y/n slowed and said, “Hey, what’s up Parker?” The girl beamed at being remembered and said, “I just wanted to hear more about your research. It sounds very cool.” y/n flushed and said, “Really? Thanks that’s nice.” The two walked in the same direction talking a bit about each other, the class, and y/n’s research. The whole walk made y/n feel like her work wasn’t for nothing, or extremely boring. The two women exchanged numbers as they headed toward different parts of campus. 

As she moved, yet again someone called her name. The voice was familiar and she whipped her head to the side to see Aaron now rambling beside her. It had become clear that he had been walking behind her and Parker, and y/n hadn’t noticed him. She chastised herself for not being more aware of her surroundings. y/n let out a breath and said, “Oh, it’s you. Is there something you want, Aaron?” Mr. Hotchner gave a sly smile indicating that he knew she knew there was more to him than he was letting on. Aaron replied to her question with, “Are you really smart or something, or really stupid?” y/n had not expected to be insulted in her first real interaction with this odd, odd, man and said, “Sorry, what?” Aaron laughed slightly and said, “Well auditing Tax Fraud with Porter? He’s like the most demanding prof in the department. He’s brutal from what I’ve heard.” 

y/n flushed, and was grateful that it was too dark for the man to see. She had heard of Dr. Porter's reputation as a strict and demanding professor. She wasn’t going to let on that she was unaware of the man’s full reputation. Instead, she said, “Well, on this subject, maybe I’m somewhere in the middle.” She hesitated and added, “And, he was the only person willing to let me audit the course. I might be a fucking idiot for agreeing to this, but I’m going to do my damn best. It’s the least I can do for Dr. Porter to let me in. The worst that can happen is that I’m the class clown and dunce. I’ll still have learned something if that’s the case.” 

It seemed that Aaron had not expected that response. He stopped in his tracks for a moment and looked at her with incredulity. He gave a very soft, “Huh,” and then kept walking next to her. y/n wondered, ‘Why was this handsome man walking with her? What he could want from her apart from a reaction was beyond her.’ Aaron looked like he was about to say something else, but another, new voice pierced the quiet atmosphere of the near-silent campus. Aaron and y/n looked over as a built man approached saying, “Hey, Hotch. How was the first day?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. Normal. How was your first day, Morgan?” The new man stepped into the light. y/n observed the new figure. He wore dark blue jeans and a loose green t-shirt had hid what y/n assumed was a built frame given the man’s strong forearms. The color of his shirt matched the deep tone of his skin well. The man looked her over for one second before saying, “Yeah it was fine. I mean I slept through my first alarm. So I skipped the rest of my classes for the day. Sunk cost ya’ know.” At hearing this, Aaron facepalmed and said, “Morgan, are you trying to buy yourself another fucking semester here?” 

It was clear to y/n that ‘Hotch’ and Morgan were friends given how casually they were addressing each other and Aaron’s use of profanity. y/n felt like she was intruding on a private conversation and was glad when she reached her turn-off. She moved to the left and Aaron called out, saying, “Good luck with all your stuff.” She looked over to the two men and said, “Yeah, thanks. See you next week.” As she moved farther away, she could overhear Morgan say, “Who was that chick man?” And Aaron’s response of, “Just a girl in my class. Now come on. Let’s go home. I’m fucking tired.” There was something so odd about Aaron, his demeanor, and his ‘friend’ to y/n. She shook off the encounter for the moment as she finally got to her car. 

When y/n got back to her shared apartment at around ten p.m., the lights were still burning downstairs. She thought, ‘Must be Emily.’ Emily was the only one that made sense. But the young attractive brunette didn’t normally stay up that late. Emily’s morning shifts required her to be up at around four a.m., so it was odd that she would be up so late. It certainly wasn’t Garcia. y/n’s most eccentric roommate, Penelope Garcia, seemed to be up all hours of the day and night. y/n had wondered if Garcia took uppers to stay up all night at the club or with her coding pals, or sometimes both at the same time. The one time Penelope had dragged her out to a rave, y/n found it miraculous that the spunky blonde with her gang of friends had elbowed their way to the back, found an empty table, and pulled out a clunky PC. The group, and Garcia in particular had a penchant for finding creepy guys online and making sure they got reported to whatever authorities seemed necessary. Pen was fantastic with finding people online, and y/n was glad she wasn’t on that woman’s bad side. Shockingly, Garcia hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, but all four of her friends took pity on y/n, clearly not in her environment with the strobe lights and deafening music in the background. Each of the friends got her a drink and a nice man asked her to dance. It had been an exciting night, but not one she planned on replicating soon. 

When y/n entered the first story she was met with Emily smiling and holding out a glass of red wine for her. y/n smiled and said, “Em this is so sweet. What’s the occasion?” y/n noticed the uncorked bottle on the counter. Prentiss grabbed her glass and said, “To celebrate your first day of course. I know you’ve been stressed about it. So, first cheers. And then tell me how it went.” y/n clinked glasses with Em and began regaling her with the events of the day. She tried to keep it short, knowing that her roommate would want to get to bed soon. Prentiss listened with rapt attention. Emily never seemed like the type of person y/n could be close friends with. y/n would like to think she was easy to get along with. She kept the shared space clean, offered food when she made it, and tried to stay pretty quiet and unobtrusive, but the more time she spent in Emily’s company, the more she liked her. Emily was so dedicated given all the crap her job threw at her, especially all the sexism and misogyny she faced. But even on top of those hurdles, she generally was just a funny and caring person. Emily was fiercely dedicated to the people she liked and it seemed that y/n was one of them. y/n wasn’t sure if she had taken pity on her when she first moved in or not, but if it was the latter, y/n wasn’t even mad about it. She had felt truly lost when she first moved to the city, and Emily, given her beat as a policewoman for the LAPD, had told her where to avoid late at night and showed her around their apartment area thoroughly. That had been a kindness.  

As y/n finished wrapping up her narrative of the evening events, she included the strange interaction with the man who sat across from her saying, “And there was this really cute guy in my class. Strange but cute. He kind of insinuated that I was stupid for auditing the class which was insulting, but damn was he cute. Everyone else in the class seemed shocked when they heard his name.” Emily raised an eyebrow and said, “Well, who is this dude? Do you remember his name?” y/n rolled her eyes and said, “Well yeah. How could I forget given the reception he got? His name’s Aaron Hotchner. Do you know him or something?” At hearing the name, Em stilled and seemed to pale. This was not the response y/n had been expecting and she said quickly, “Should I know who that is?” y/n was at a loss for this response for a seemingly hot guy in a leather jacket. Emily took a deep breath before saying, “I’d stay away from him. The Hotchner name has a, well a reputation.” y/n furrowed her brows and said, “Okay. Now you have me worried. Who is this guy?” Em let out another breath and stroked her hands through her hair saying, “Well. I can tell you this. His dad, Mr. Hotchner Sr. is the head of one of the largest gangs in this part of the city. The man and his gang are in deep with the drug trade. As for his son, well, from what I hear he’s not involved. At least not yet, but people are keeping an eye on him.” 

y/n couldn’t stop herself from letting her mouth drop open. That was a real surprise. Suddenly the response of the class made more sense. To have someone of that status, studying law was an oddity. How Aaron Hotchner had chosen this path of study was bizarre. It wasn’t her place to think about it, but even if that was the case, the idea stuck with her. Prentiss could see this look stuck on y/n’s face and warned, “Listen, y/n. Just for your sake, stay away from him. I can’t tell you what Aaron Hotchner is doing with his life, but his dad’s not a good guy. I wouldn’t want you to get tied up in some unsafe stuff.” y/n flushed and said, “Don’t worry Em. I’m not planning on it. He might be cute, but given your new information, he’s not that cute. Now, pour me another glass. And I’ll be happy to pay you back for half the bottle, given how good this stuff tastes, I’m assuming it’s not cheap.” Prentiss held out the bottle and refilled y/n’s glass saying, “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. This one’s my treat.” y/n smiled at Emily. She really was the best. Once they had finished off the bottle, both women moved quickly to their rooms and headed to their separate bedrooms. Both women fell into bed bed too exhausted to think about much more than sleep. 

The semester seemed to move like those in grad school had two years before. Without concrete classes to ground her, y/n’s classes and her weekly meetings with her advisor were the only things that kept time a constant. y/n had prepped for the larger sophomore seminar class, but the smaller classes she just arranged weekly. The law class also added a level of stability, if not a whole load of extra work on top of her own research and writing time. It was a burden but also allowed her time outside of her office to make some new friends. y/n found friends with Parker and Steven. They would prep for their case assignments. After the first three weeks of the class, when all three of them had been called on, now, they had a better understanding of how the class would be. 

It was a learning curve to be in a law class. It wasn’t like any of her other classes. There had been plenty of courses centered on discussion mostly, but this type of interrogation that the class required was difficult for her. y/n and her new friends who were more adept at law than her prepped for this type of questioning. Demanding, interrogatory, personal even. The group had all worked on coming up with practice questions, some more accurate than others. After the fourth class, the friend group had each been called. It had been y/n’s first time. She had been called about the United States v. Caldwell case in 2016. Her copious notes had helped her provide a semi-succinct response. The friend group walked across campus after class each going to their respective cars. As they walked, they talked about the class, and y/n’s response, and what she might have said differently. As they moved down the quad, they rambled slowly across the campus not wanting to leave each other’s company yet. 

A new voice was added to the mix as someone left one of the many buildings on the quad. y/n looked up and smiled. It was Spencer. y/n beamed, she hadn’t seen Dr. Reid in some time. She had met him at one of those awkward faculty socials. Everyone else at the social had at least one friend there except for her and Spencer. So naturally they had made their way to each other and introduced themselves. The young and brilliant Dr. Reid was teaching an abnormal psychology class and getting a third PhD in chemistry while also teaching. 

Suddenly y/n had felt very stupid and that her schedule didn’t seem that busy at all. Dr. Reid, having done this for a long time could see the look on her face and he rushed to reassure y/n that she was taking on a lot too and that he was just a freak who literally couldn’t get his mind to slow down no matter how hard he tried. That had made her feel better, at least a little. Then Spencer had asked her about her research and his genuine interest in her field had validated her even more. Her imposter syndrome slipping away. As it turned out, Dr. Reid was a fount of knowledge about her area of interest as well, and the young slender man offered to give her information or loan her any of his slew of books if she wanted. y/n had readily agreed and the pair swapped email addresses. y/n thought that if she was less busy she might have thought Spencer was the type of man she might be attracted to. But she was too busy for an attempt at a romance and she had just moved in. Getting her feet under her was her current goal, not finding a fling. Perhaps, if she survived the semester she would think about it later, However, she would be surprised if the young man wasn’t taken already. From what she could see, he was a catch. After the mixer b, both of them had spent their social batteries and Spencer was nice enough to drive her to her car in the commuter lot. As they parted ways they vowed to meet up for a coffee and chat soon. 

They had met up once before the semester started for coffee at another place the genius liked. They had both bemoaned making syllabi and the heat and anything else they wanted to get off their chests. The conversation had been cathartic. Unfortunately, the semester had picked up at a furious pace and they hadn’t met up since then. Spencer had been kind enough to send her an email or two checking in, which she had responded to. y/n was very pleased to see him again in person. She called him over, and Dr. Reid’s long legs got him to her in a few strides. Reid was in a sweater vest and black slacks with his distinctive brown shoulder bag. The two friends checked in. After a brief conversation, y/n introduced Spencer to her friends. 

Everyone said their hello’s and the four of them now moved across the large campus. The lights on the quad seemed to be placed haphazardly, not fully or well illuminating the space. Emily had told y/n to carry pepper spray when she walked at night. y/n assumed that Preniss had multiple stories of nights gone wrong for young women on campus given her job as a policewoman, and y/n believed her. Thus, y/n always carried some pepper spray with her in the side pocket of her bag, just in reach. The group rounded a corner to see the first strong light of the night. The beam of light from a solitary lamp shone down on a large imposing figure silhouetted against the glow of the light. Suddenly the warm camaraderie of the night that had been forming between the new and old friends felt like it was cut with a knife. Something felt very wrong about the person standing in the shadow and the group of young adults stopped in their tracks. Even though all their cars were in this direction, nobody felt like moving forward. Noting the palpable tension in front of them. 

They all stood there for a minute looking to see if the figure would move, but he didn’t. The figure stood stock still, apparently unaware of the group's intimidation of him. Or, perhaps that was the goal as another, familiar voice came from behind them. The four students turned and y/n was surprised to find Aaron approaching them with a stiff gait. y/n was used to seeing him smooth and loose and what appeared as ease, but this was not that. Suddenly y/n wondered if that apathetic demeanor was all an act that Hotch put on. Aaron stepped forward and everyone in the law class they shared with him cocked a weary eyebrow. Hotch sighed and said, “I’m not joking, beat it. Find an alternative route or take thirty minutes to talk in the library or something. Just don’t be here right now.” Parker, Steven, and Spencer’s eyes all moved to the man in the shadows and then turned, but y/n kept her eyes glued on Aaron. 

After hearing Emily’s warning about him, she had withdrawn a bit in class. Hotch had spoken to her a few times, and she engaged him in light conversation about her research and job as a senior lecturer. It seemed that the conversation never steered in his direction. It was never about his life or his choice to join law school even though y/n had tried to get him to say something about himself. The man was infuriatingly hard to read. y/n wasn’t sure why she was trying to get him to speak about himself. It wasn’t like Aaron was interested in her. For the most part, when he talked to her, it seemed to fill empty silence during the breaks in the class. y/n didn’t want to be involved in any drama, certainly not anything that would get her in trouble. But the enigmatic figures of Aaron were enticing in his way. Perhaps it was just the intrigue of someone like him. She was personally familiar with more white-collar crime, but the grit and darkness of the mob, or the mafia, or whatever his father was involved in had caught her attention. y/n assumed it was like a bad case of curiosity killed the cat. y/n hadn’t turned yet as the rest moved back from the direction they had come from. She watched as Aaron turned toward the man. Aaron’s shoulders were tense beneath his jacket. She could feel that he was ill at ease. y/n caught sight of Aaron’s friend from before, Morgan, standing a few feet to the left of Aaron. She hadn’t seen him in the gloom of the night until now. It seemed that this meeting might have been planned ahead of time given the coordination. 

y/n felt someone take her hand and she looked up at Spencer. Dr. Reid didn’t say anything. He just pulled her away from the scene. The tension only seemed to grow as the group moved farther away. Spencer looked back once as he hustled y/n down the path. Whoever had joined the man who had told the group to leave gave Spencer a grateful nod before moving toward his friend. Reid chose not to look anymore, as he wrapped a protective arm around y/n’s waist and said, “I’ll drive you to your car. Mine’s in lot B anyway. Not far from the commuter lot.” y/n looked up at him again, and gave a small smile, saying, “Yeah, thanks that’d be nice.” y/n resisted the urge to say, ‘You’re a terrible liar, Spence. We both know that lot B and the commuter lot are on opposite ends of the campus’ but she kept that to herself. y/n was grateful to have a colleague like Spencer to give her rides at all. y/n quickly said goodbye to her other friends and joined Reid at the stairs that led down to the parking area with his car. y/n’s head was filled with thoughts about Aaron and what was happening back at the quad. If Aaron was going to be okay. If he had expected to be meeting that man tonight or if it was as much of a surprise to him as it had been to all of them. Given his tone, she assumed that it was a surprise to him too, but she may never be sure. 

Back in the quad, Aaron scowled. How many times had he told his father, and his father’s men over and over again to not find him in public? If he had to be dragged into some sordid affair that his dad had caused. Morgan stepped a few feet toward Aaron but Hotch raised a hand and said, “Don’t get involved Derek. I don’t expect this to be anything but some intimidation crap.” Morgan nodded and took a step back, but the built man still slipped a hand to the back pocket of his pants fingering the cool metal of his diamond back gun. Derek kept his eyes on Jeffries, one of Mr. Hotchner Sr.’s largest enforcers. Derek thought it was stupid to send Jeffries, if Mr. Hotchner wanted his son’s attention, that would not be the man he would send. 

Hotch stepped forward and said, “I don’t have anything to say to my father. He knows that so what the hell does he want with me.” Aaron was standing right next to the man. Even though Aaron was tall, he was nothing compared to Jeffries. Jeffries was a mountain of a man. Hotch was not intimidated. This man was here to threaten him physically. He was here to impose a different kind of demand on the son of the Boss. After an unsettling moment of silence, in a deep voice, one laced with the stress of a chain smoker, Jeffries said, “Mr. Hotchner Sr. wants to meet with you on Saturday at the Mercado Club. His treat.” Aaron scoffed and replied, “You think I’m going on his turf on a meeting night? God the man needs more of a grip than I thought. Jesus.” Hotch took a breath; he took a moment to look to the side, and he saw Morgan uncomfortably shuffling from one foot to the other. Aaron turned back to Jeffries and said, “You can tell my father that’s not happening. I’m out, and I don’t know how many more times I can keep telling him that.” The large man replied, “Tell him yourself on Saturday at the club. I’m not a messenger pigeon, and Aaron, this is the third time you’ve blown off your father. He’s not pleased and you know how he gets, so this isn’t a meeting I’d push off.” 

Hotch let out a big breath and gave a small nod. He wasn’t looking forward to a meeting with his old man, but whatever fuckery his dad could impose on his life wasn’t worth a half hour of animosity and argumentation about his life goals. Jeffries sensing a concession from Aaron, gave a tiny nod and moved out of the solitary spotlight and back into the darkness. As large and imposing a man as Jeffries was, he easily and quickly slipped back and away into the darkness of the campus. Aaron was so angry at having been contacted against his direct wishes. Not only had his father contacted him in public, putting his image in question, but he had done it in front of… Aaron considered what to call the people in his class. They weren’t his friends precisely, but colleagues and classmates felt a bit too dismissive. Aaron thought especially of the woman who was auditing the class. From their first meeting, he had assumed that she had no idea who he was. That rarely happened to him, though he assumed someone had filled her in after the fact. Even if that was the case, she had remained respectful and friendly toward him. Every time she or he entered the class, she would ask how he was doing with an interest that didn’t seem forced or faked. It was the first real interaction he felt like he had had in the department in years. 

Aaron thought it was rather pathetic, but looked forward to the beginning of each class just to have a few words with y/n. Hotch’s mind switched back to the present as Morgan approached him. Aaron looked over to his friend and saint, “Did you know this was going to happen?” His voice came out harsher than he intended, but Derek’s demeanor told him that his friend and pseudo-bodyguard had been more aware than he’d been. Hotch let out a scoff and said, “Unfucking believable. You should have told me and I could have walked fifteen thousand other ways back to my car.” Morgan put his hands up and said, “Listen, Hotch. I couldn’t have stopped it. And I know I stick with you more than your old man, but technically he’s still paying me to look out for you. And there are some things that even I’m not going to argue with.” Aaron could understand where Derek was coming from and he lifted a hand saying, “I get it. I’m just pissed. Now, let’s go home. I need to get wasted or something after tonight.” The pair moved together into the darkness with a sense of their friendship slightly strained. Aaron’s life was taking a turn he had desperately tried to avoid, but it seemed his family, and his past was haunting him like a ghost who just would not quit. 

y/n got home safely. She quietly moved into her room. She took a hot shower, letting the warm water steam up her small bathroom. Even though the rent was outrageous, there was the perk that each of the women had their own bathroom and shower. Her mind swelled with images of Aaron standing in front of the large man. She thought about what Emily had said about his father being the head of some sort of gang. y/n hadn’t had the time time to look into it at all. Her interactions with Aaron had all seemed pleasant and if she didn’t know about his shadowy past, she might have just thought he was some cocky young man trying to look cool with his rings and classic leather jacket. These thoughts persisted until she was in bed and eventually asleep. In the morning, y/n got dressed for a meeting with her advisor and office hours. y/n started a big pot of coffee. She knew that Em would be down in a minute because the shower upstairs had just turned off. True to form, Prentiss was down the stairs just as the coffee was finished. y/n poured her roomie a mugful, and Emily gave her a gentle smile. The brunette in her police uniform with cuffs, and gun and all. As the woman drank their liquid breakfast, y/n’s brain flashed to last night and she asked, “Hey Emily. What kind of gang is Aaron’s father the leader of? There was some threatening guy on campus last night. It seems he was there to talk to Aaron or something.” 

Hearing this, Em’s ears perked up. She had been trying for two years to impress her supervisor. She had gone above and beyond in terms of the effort and hours she put in on the street. She picked up shifts and did the jobs no one wanted. And all her efforts had been for naught. She was still in her entry-level position and had crappy entry-level pay. At this point, Emily was looking at anything to try and get a step ahead of all the other men in the department. She had started looking at stalled cases or those that were backlogged at the department. One of those cases was the Hotchner crime ring. The thought of a new lead had Emily on her toes. Prentiss was excited but also realized that y/n could have also been in a degree of danger. Emily thought about her words before she said, “Well, from my research and knowledge of the gang activity in the area, I can tell you this, Mr. Hotchner Sr. isn’t running some West Side Story turf gang. The man is in deep. His gang is a criminal organization. I’d say that it was closer to the mafia than a gang, but he doesn’t have quite that much influence yet. If the department would only spend a few more dollars looking into that group, they’d easily find more than they have now. Honestly, it’s infuriating.” 

This was all news to y/n. She wasn’t versed in any of the things that Emily was talking about. There was a moment of silence before Prentiss said, “So the guy you saw, the one that spoke to Aaron, did you hear any of that conversation? Did you see the man at all?” y/n shook her head no and replied, “Not really. Aaron told us to leave another way. I can tell you the guy was big, but I couldn’t see him very well. He was weathering a suit, but that’s about it.” Em nodded and took another thoughtful sip of her coffee. When she set the cup down, she said, not to anyone in particular, “I swear gangs and drugs are ruining this city and the cops aren’t doing a thing about it.” 

Just as Emily said this, Garcia entered the room. She was dressed in her normal eccentric style. She had star decals on her face and wore a bubble gum pink lip. From the blonde's energy, it was hard to tell if she was just coming back from an all-nighter or just heading out for brunch. y/n asked the clarifying question, “Pen, you just getting in or going out?” Garcia beamed and said, “I just had a lovely night out. Club, club, another club, and then my friend JJ’s house. You’d both like her I think. Now what did I hear about gangs and drugs? You’re not planning on locking me up, are you Emily?” Prentiss laughed at this and said, “Garcia, you’re forgetting that Lexaporo and Adderal are prescription medications. Unless you’re selling your pills on the side of the road, you’re scott-free in my book.” 

That had all of them laughing. Penelope, after getting a cup of coffee, did ask genuinely, “But really what gangs are you talking about?” Emily looked over to y/n and said, “Well Aaron, the ‘bad boy’ in y/n’s class had a run-in with one of his father’s associates on campus last night. Tense affair.” Garcia’s eyes went wide and she said, “From what I’ve heard about the Hotchner group from my friends and fellow hackers they aren’t to be trifled with. Let’s hope Aaron’s father doesn’t want anything serious with his son.” y/n frowned at hearing this. She had never assumed that Aaron’s circumstances were easy. Clearly, from the class's perception of him, they weren’t, but an actual threat of harm or violence to her classmate set her nerves on edge in a way she had not anticipated. However, the time on the clock on the wall caught y/n’s attention. She needed to leave to make her appointment with a student struggling with grades. y/n burned her mouth as she chugged her coffee and said, “Sorry, gotta run ladies. See you both tonight!” With that, she grabbed her backpack and purse and dashed out the door and toward her car. For the rest of the busy day, y/n forgot about Aaron Hotchner, but she would be reminded of him again soon enough. For now, there were the problems of today to solve. 

For Aaron the week went by both shockingly fast and maddeningly long. Time felt like it was playing a sick prank on him as he waited for Saturday night. Hotch went to his normal classes and studied as much as he could given the circumstances. He did shockingly well given the circumstances. Finally, Saturday arrived and Aaron and Morgan drove toward the Mercado Club on the far East side of town. The club was packed. Saturday nights were disco nights with drinks half off. This ensured that the large space was always packed for meeting nights in the more private backroom of the establishment. Morgan had a designated spot on the street and parallel parked between two of the gang member's cars. As Morgan stopped the car, he grabbed Aaron’s shoulder and said, “Listen, man, don’t make this hard on yourself. How many times has Richard done this to you? Know know what he’s gonna do to you if you say no again, so just… just think about it before you say no. If you make me wash blood out of these leather seats again, I’m making you pay for it this time.” 

Derek said this out of a genuine concern for his friend. Morgan had seen this song and dance before and the look in Aaron’s eyes told him that it would be the same old result. After all, money didn’t matter to Hotch. He had more money than he needed, even if he didn’t want to admit it. The fifty dollars it cost to clean or even redetail Morgan’s car didn’t matter to the older Hotchner sibling. Derek wished it did, for his friend's sake. But he had said his peace, and he couldn’t stop Aaron from walking out of the car with a determined stride. Derek followed quickly after Aaron. 

Aaron, clad in his normal leather jacket moved into the club. He had access to the service entry which led to quieter corridors and direct access to the gang's private meeting room. Aaron, however, refused to use his key and elbowed his way through the thick crowd of dancers and revelers. After about five minutes, he made it to the back corridors and toward the club room. Unceremoniously Aaron, and shortly after, Derek, moved into the crowded room. All eyes of the gang members moved to the two new additions to the room. Richard Hotchner, seated at the center of the room raised a hand and quieted the room. Mr. Hotchner Sr. said, “Good of you to join us, gentlemen. Take a seat and we’ll continue the meeting. There were only two extra chairs open in the room. One was in the back and the room. It was clear that Aaron was to take the seat next to his father. Hotch did as expected and sat next to his father. The young man could have laughed at the scene. It felt like something out of The Godfather, except he knew what was coming once the meeting was over. The meeting which covered Hotchern Sr.’s continued plan to spread drugs and gain ground throughout the East and West sides of town seemed to go on forever. Aaron listened as each sector spoke and gave updates with half interest. His father’s criminal activities and need for power and control were the juxtaposition of the life that Aaron hoped to build for himself. He had seen the real pain that his father had not only inflicted on his men, but on the community the gang encompassed as a whole. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to escape his father's control. 

After another hour and a half, the meeting adjourned as Richard raised a hand. Everyone, including Derek, stood and left the room; that was, except for Aaron. Once the whole gang was out, two large men entered the room. One was Jeffries, the other was another security man just as big and intimidating as Jeffries. Richard looked at his son and said, “You know what I’m going to say already.” Hotch sighed and replied, “And you know my response, Dad.” Richard sighed and said, “Every time we have one of these meetings I pray for a Prodigal Son, but I get a Cain instead. But either way, this is in your blood boy and you can’t fight it forever.” By ‘In your blood’ Aaron knew that his father meant, ‘You will take responsibility for my criminal organization. To take the reigns and make it bigger and better than ever before.’ \

At this comment, Aaron said, “Fuck my blood, and fuck you too.” Almost instantaneously after this remark, Hotch’s face was thrown to the side due to a harsh slap to the side of his face. Aaron leveled a glare at his father and managed to say, “Have me beaten black and blue again Dad. It’s not gonna change my mind. I’m never joining you.” Richard shook his head and replied, “You asked for it. And one day, one day it’s gonna work son. Just you wait.” With that, Richard stood and motioned for the two security guards to do as Mr. Hotchner Sr. wanted. Outside the room, Derek stood and listened to the sounds of violence and brutality that were happening inside the space he had just been sitting in. Morgan cringed as the rhythmic sound of fist against flesh continued. The occasional grunt from Aaron cut through the sound of violence. 

After around a half hour, the two large men dragged the barely conscious body of Aaron from the room. Morgan did nothing to stop them. He just followed after them as they dragged Hotch’s body down the quiet hallway. Aaron was unceremoniously dropped down the two concrete stairs to the back entrance of the club. Morgan flushed his body to the railing as Jeffries and the other man moved back inside. Once the security detail was inside, Derek rushed forward toward Aaron’s prone figure. Hotch muttered incoherently against the concrete as Morgan lifted his friend up and toward his car. Derek thought, ‘Yup, it’s gonna be another interior cleaning job tomorrow,’ as he hauled Aaron’s bloodied body toward his parked car. 

Morgan lifted Aaron into the passenger seat and buckled him in. Hotch made a whimpering sound as he was jostled for a moment. Derek, though he was paid by Richard, cared more for his employer's son than he would like to admit. They had built up a pretty strong friendship over the years they had known each other. It had been tense at first because Aaron didn’t want and resented having a bodyguard. This was when he was still in high school and Richard was in some hot water with both the FBI and another gang that was trying to recruit some of his men. Morgan was already a member of the gang and was a loyal member given how young he was. It was only natural that he guard Aaron from any unwanted attention and keep the Boss’s son out of trouble. 

Aaron was, at the time full of anger from recently losing his mother and was making reckless choices for himself and the gang. He had hated Morgan, but the man had pulled him out of some bad situations numerous times over the years. The more time they spent together, the more Hotch sympathized with Morgan. Not in the awkward pitying type of way that many had when Derek was asked to open up, like in counseling centers or at one disastrous youth program he had been sent to. No. Aaron understood why Morgan had turned to a gang for security, and community too. Even if it was a bad community. One rooted in violence and illegality. Derek had to chalk it up to the fact that Aaron’s father was the leader. Aaron had to have seen to full spectrum of reasons for people to join a gang. And a full spectrum of violence as well. The beating Aaron had received tonight was no different than any other except that Richard hadn’t joined in. This was another thing he and Hotch had in common. The first time Aaron had taken his shirt off in front of Morgan, it had been after a workout or something, Derek had been shocked to see a smearing of dark purple and yellow bruises mottling the man’s skin. Morgan had asked if a group and jumped him, but Aaron’s response of, “I only got jumped by someone I know. Don’t worry about it.” It wasn’t until weeks later that Morgan saw Richard strike his son, and suddenly it all made more sense. Then Morgan felt sympathy for Aaron as well. After they came to more of an understanding, Hotch had stood up for Morgan against his father a few times and that had sealed their friendship. Morgan rode as smoothly as he could back to their apartment, with just the radio playing some rap on a low level and Aaron’s labored breathing for company. 

The next Monday, y/n arrived at class just on time. She was surprised to see that Aaron wasn’t in his normal seat. She did shoot Parker and Steven a smile as she pulled out her notes as the lecturer began. During the break, y/n moved to the ladies room. Midterms were fast approaching and almost everyone in the class was huddled up making study plans. y/n had already made her study plan with her friends in the class. As she washed her hands she heard a pained sound coming from the men’s room which was just a wall away from the women’s restrooms. y/n quickly wiped her hands free of water and moved outside. There was no one in the hallway and she got close to the door of the men's room and called out, “Hey, um… are you okay in there?” There was a pause and then a little grunt as someone from inside said, “I'm fine.” The voice was familiar, but there was a lisp in it which was making it hard to pinpoint. There were still another twenty minutes to the break, and y/n was interested to see who was suffering in the bathroom and stood leaning against the wall. After around five minutes the door opened and she looked up. Aaron Hotchner was the last person she expected to see limp out of the bathroom. y/n’s eyes widened as she looked at his face which was bruised on the left side. His lips were also split on the top and the bottom. Without thinking much y/n said, “Jesus Christ. What happened to you?” Hotch’s eyes snapped to her. He hadn’t thought anyone was outside. He had been stranding himself in the bathroom for longer than he had thought. He wasn’t sure why he had even come to campus in the first place. It wasn’t like he could go to class like this. Or perhaps he was toying with the idea he would go to class. To make his life harder, or to give his classmates something to talk about, or because he just couldn’t care anymore he wasn’t sure, but y/n had caught him off guard. Her use of expletives for one and the genuine concern on her face as she looked him over with an intense stare. 

Aaron thought of fleeing for a moment. Of running, or limping down the hall as fast as he could, but he realized that he needed help. Help from someone not so invested in him as the son of a gangster and criminal. If that was anyone in the class, it was y/n. As the sound of the lecture room door opened, Aaron moved quickly. He grabbed y/n’s wrist and pulled her into a hallway and then left into another hallway. This one was less lit. Half of the fluorescent bulbs in the hallway seemed to be out and those that were functioning flickered rather ominously. The turn of events had happened so quickly that y/n didn’t say anything until they were stopped in the hallway when y/n said, “Aaron, what’s going on? What happened to you?” 

The original concern was still in her voice, but there was an added edge including a hint of fear for herself. She looked around the space as if expecting something or someone to pop out of a doorway or darkened corner. Aaron took a deep breath and said, “Listen. Sorry for being so abrupt. I don’t even know why I’m here really and I’m sure I’m going to get an earful from Dr. Porter when I come back next week, but I saw you and I thought… well I thought I’d ask a favor, even if I don’t deserve one.” Hotch’s left eyebrow was cocked and y/n listened for him for a minute as if he was speaking a foreign language. She snapped back to herself as her watch beeped the five minutes before class started again. y/n asked, “What’s the favor?” Aaron seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and said, “Can I get your notes from today’s class before next week?” You could fax them to me or I could get them from your tomorrow in your office or something? I’d understood if you said no. It’s just that I really can’t fall behind in this class.” 

There was a very short silence as y/n considered. She didn’t have a lot of time to think because she needed to get back to class, like, now. Two thoughts ran through her head. The first was from the more rational and logical part of her brain. The part that Emily would agree with. It said, ‘Ma’am, look at him right now. Something bad happened here and I don’t think he just tripped on the library stairs. It probably has to do with his family or gang involvement or something. Don’t. Be. Stupid.’ But the other part of her brain said, ‘Look at him. That’s gotta hurt and those cuts and bruises were a few days old which meant they had hurt more back then.’ Going against her logical brain she said, “Yeah. I’ll give you my notes. She rummaged around in her purse pulled out an old receipt and pen and jotted down her home number. She handed him the slip of paper and said, “Here’s my number. Call me later and we can coordinate a meeting time.” 

She had just seen the contents of her bag and she noticed that there was an ibuprofen in there along with an assortment of random stuff. She asked, “Have you had any painkillers recently?” Aaron’s eyes snapped back to her. He looked surprised that she was still talking to him. He looked back to the ground and said, “It’s been like three hours now or something.” y/n pulled out the bottle and undid the cap quickly. She really needed to get back to class and she rushed to tip two tablets into her hand. She closed the bottle and half-pressed the pills into Aaron’s hand. She said, “Call me later,” and then ran back to the lecture. The lecture was in full swing when she got back and y/n noticed that she was about five minutes late. She tried her best to slip into the room. At least she sat at the very back, but her tardy return had a few of the guys in suits and one or two girls in the class giving her the stink eye. 

Dr. Porter also glanced at her, but it was brief before he returned to talking. The rest of the class, y/n had conflicting emotions. The first of which was that she felt bad for being late. Dr. Porter had taken a risk on her, and she was probably letting him down. The other thought she had was if she had made a catastrophic mistake in waiting to see who had been in the men’s restroom. She knew that Em would say she was stupid for getting involved, and part of her agreed, but when she had seen the normally cocky and confidant Aaron Hotchner in such a state, she had let her emotions get the best of her. She pondered if that was her fatal flaw or not. y/n did her best to push away these thoughts and focus on the lecture. If all else failed, she could just ignore Aaron’s call. Little did y/n know that getting involved with Hotch would do much more than cause her stress in Tax Fraud. 

The class progressed as it normally would with just a hint of awkwardness. Dr. Porteer did call her, but her response was coherent and she defended her point about the verdict in the U.S. v Ofshe case and how the drugs that had been obtained and the oversimplification of the government violated the defendant's Fifth Amendment rights. After she had spoken a ghost of a smile graced Dr. Porter’s face. He was happy with her response. If y/n was anything, it was thorough. 

When the class ended everyone filed out of the room, and y/n approached Porter. Parker finished asking a 1uqtion quickly and moved out of the room, patting y/n on the shoulder as they left. y/n and Dr. Porter were alone and y/n said, “I’m sorry for being late after the break. Something, personal, came up. I didn’t expect it to take that long.” Dr. Porter looked at her, a hint of concern in the crinkles at the corner of his eyes. He asked, “Is everything alright, y/l/n?” y/n let out a sigh realizing that saying anything was opening avenues to conversations that she might not want to elaborate on. To keep Aaron’s situation private, she simply said, “Well it’s not me that’s having the problems, It’s a friend of mine. They’ve gotten themself into some trouble and I just needed to check in to make sure they were okay. Porter nodded but didn’t look convinced,  and said, “Alright. Well if you ever need anything, or feel overwhelmed with all that you’re juggling this semester, you can always email me or see me during office hours.” y/n smiled warmly and said, “Thanks. Dr. Porter. That means a lot to me.” The older man gave her arm an affectionate squeeze before letting her go for the night. 

The drive home was peaceful,  serene even. It juxtaposed the earlier moment of tension from that evening. y/n hoped to stay relaxed for the rest of the night. Just do some reading, have a glass of wine, a very hot shower, and hit the bed. Her hopes for calm and quietude were crushed when she got into the apartment and Emily was leaning against the kitchen counter with a deep frown on her face. Before y/n even had the chance to ask, “What’s wrong, Prentiss?” The strong-minded brunette said, “You’re ‘friend’ called about five minutes ago.” This stopped y/n in her tracks. y/n knew that Emily was talking about Aaron, and she was about to get an earful. She steadied herself as her roommate started saying, “y/n, Aaron Hotchner is not the type of guy you want to get tangled up with, okay? I might sound nice and charming and play-act as a ‘bad boy,’ but there is nothing good about him or his family. Promise me you’re not going to be so stupid as to meet up with him and give him your notes. What if he starts expecting things from you? Have you ever thought about that scary moment on campus last week?” 

y/n while taking the verbal reprimand hadn’t thought about the fact that Aaron’s injuries could be related to that event on campus. Had something bad happened to him after Spencer had dragged her away? Although y/n realized that Aaron might have been in a serious and dangerous situation, that didn’t stop her from still being concerned for him. In some small way, y/n was annoyed that Em was so tied into her personal life. So what if she wanted to give Aaron her notes? But the logical part of her brain stopped her from snapping back. y/n took a deep breath and said, “I see where you’re coming from Em. But, he looked so hurt tonight. Desperate. If giving him my notes in a public place, like the coffee shop is a crime, then so be it. I told him I would, and I’m one to keep my promises.” y/n expected some sort of reprimand, but instead, Em sighed and said, “Fine. Call him back. I left his number on the pad on the fridge. But for the love of god, either have me. Garcia, or Spence come with you whenever you meet him?” y/n smiled and said, “Thanks Em. I knew you were a softie under that hard shell of yours.” 

Em scoffed and said, “Well I might be a softie for you. Aaron Hotchner is another matter entirely. At least with you knowing him, I can snoop in on his life. You never know, maybe he’ll give you a hint about his dad and you can pass that info over to me.” y/n rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever you say Em. Now let me call him back. Buffy’s coming on in a half hour and I don’t plan on missing another episode. Do you wanna join? There’s a bottle of red in the fridge we can share?” Emily nodded and said, “You bet. I’ll get the channel pulled up while you talk to your boyfriend.” That comment had y/n rolling her eyes again, but she didn’t say anything as she moved into the kitchen. 

As Prentiss had said, there was a note on the notepad stuck to the fridge that read ‘A.H.’s Number,’ and then a list of seven digits. The phone hung to the left of the fridge. It was egg yolk yellow, a design choice that y/n still didn’t understand as the rest of the kitchen was a pale blue with white accents. Ignoring the contrasting colors of the kitchen, y/n tapped on the phone number and held the receiver to her ear as the dial tone beeped. After the second ring someone answered, but it wasn’t Aaron. The low, husky voice said, “This is Morgan. Who is it?” y/n paused for a second before replying, “Um, this is y/n. y/l/n. I’m calling for Aaron. I’m in his Tax Fraud class, and he wanted my notes from today? I was just trying to arrange a meeting.” y/n stopped talking. She felt like she had said too much, or maybe not enough. The silence was awkward and lingered. Finally, Derek who had mercifully pulled the phone away from his mouth called out, “Hotch, a girl’s on the phone for you.” After a moment, Derek  said, “He’ll be here in a minute.” Then there was silence again. y/n tried to think about where she knew Morgan from. The voice wasn’t wholly new. She had scant few encounters with Aaron and she tried to pinpoint each of them in her mind. The night last week came to mind and she thought of the other man that had been with Aaron as Spencer had pulled her away. She assumed this was the same guy. She pinned the name, Morgan in her head in case she ever needed it. 

She had no clue why she would ever need it, but it couldn’t hurt. After another minute there was more sound, a muffled conversation, and a small grunt before the phone clicked a bit and Aaron’s familiar voice tapped in on the line. He said, “Hey, y/n. Sorry I was out back. Thanks for doing this by the way.” y/n nodded and said, “Yeah. No problem. So my schedule is pretty full this week but I can do Wednesday morning, Thursday in the evening, or Saturday morning. Does one of those times work for you?” Aaron replied, “Saturday works for me. Any place work for you? I can come over or we can meet anywhere that works for you really.” y/n didn’t hesitate as she said, “Let’s do the coffee shop near West campus. You can come and copy my stuff while I grade or read or something.” 

There was a softy, nearly inaudible breath before Hotch said, “It’s a date. Is 9:00 a.m. too early for you?” y/n replied, “Nope. Nine is good. See you then.” Hotch replied, “Right on. See ya then.” Then he disconnected the call. y/n did the same. y/n sighed, again questioning why exactly she was doing what she was. Was it care, curiosity, or a little of both? She couldn’t pinpoint it in her mind. There was also the fact that Aaron had said, “‘It’s a date’” in an infuriating manner. Like he knew that was going to spark some kind of response. Of course, it was a joke, but even so, it irked her because it was working. 

y/n let out a sigh of frustration. She looked up at the clock and realized that she needed to grab the glasses and wine as Buffy would be starting soon. Just as the new episode started. Emily and y/n settled in and just like clockwork, Garcia came down from her room. The charming Pen shuffled into the room and sat down on the couch. y/n knew her third roommate would be down once the show started and had already poured a glass for her. Em was looking at y/n as if asking, ‘So, when are you meeting him?’ And Garcia was looking at Emily as if asking, ‘What’s going on? Why do you have that look on your face?’ Thankfully Buffy was the silencing buffer. None of them dared talk during the episode. It was that important to them. The group's shared love of the campy monster of the week show drew them together in a funny way. In the beginning, y/n thought she was too much of a nerd for Prentiss, but it turned out even the dedicated policewoman couldn’t be turned down by Angel and Spike's charm. They would have to debrief once the commercials started in ten minutes or so, but for now, there was a calm as they all sat in front of the TV. 

The week went by quickly. y/n’s advisor got sick on Wednesday night and emailed her saying that he wouldn’t be able to make it to their Thursday morning meeting. This opened up her morning and she planned to sleep in. That was the plan at least. However, at 7:30 a.m. a knock on her door woke her. y/n was groggy as she made her way to her door. A sharp crack of thunder and lightning had her come more to her senses. It was pouring cats and dogs. y/n rubbed her eyes as she opened the door to the hall light. Emily was standing outside in her uniform. y/n asked sleepily, “What is it Em?” Prentiss bit her bottom lip and said, “My car won’t start. Engine problems. Can I borrow your keys or can you give me a ride to the station? The brunette looked embarrassed to ask, but y/n understood her predicament and said, “Yeah I got you. Let me put on a bra and some pants.” In under ten minutes, the duo were out the door. y/n drove slowly and carefully. The rain continued to pour down. y/n felt a small feeling of dread in the air. As they got to the station, y/n said, “Just give me or Garcia a call when you need to be picked up if you don’t get a ride from your co-workers, okay?” Em nodded and said, “Thanks a million. y/n you’re a lifesaver.” y/n got back into her car and drove to campus. Even though she didn’t have an umbrella, she got half-soaked walking to her office, and Mary Janes squeaked awfully on the floor. In her office, y/n sat down in front of a stack of papers, half of them her students and the other half her own. There was a loud crash of thunder and y/n looked out the window when she saw a dark hooded figure standing outside her office in the downpour. She couldn’t see the person's face in the beating rain. A sound in the hallway caught her attention for a moment. Another pair of noisy shoes. By the time she looked back out of the window, the figure was gone. She shook her head wondering if she’d made up the man. She let the thought pass as she kept working late into the night. 

Emily did end up calling y/n and letting her know that Penelope had picked her up already. y/n was grateful for this. She was exhausted from her day and early morning. She quickly packed up the work that she was taking home with her and switched off the lights and lamps in her office. The rain had stopped hours ago, but it left the ground damp and mist and humidity rose off the earth like a dense fog. y/n got into her car and drove toward home. She took a shortcut to avoid a traffic light that was out. As her headlight illuminated a dark back alleyway behind a store, y/n saw for a moment the same figure from earlier that day. They were leaning over something else. ‘Is that a body?’ y/n stalled, startled like a dear in headlights, even though it was the reverse scenario. For a second y/n made eye contact with the person, and she distinctly saw blood on their mouth, staining their chin a gruesome red. y/n’s heart stopped beating and a moment later a loud honk from behind her shocked her. y/n was blinded by the bright lights behind her. She had not seen the sedan pull up behind her car. In a panicked state, she hit the accelerator and finished her drive home terrified of what she’d just seen. 

y/n rushed into the house and found Emily at the stove. Prentiss turned and her, “Welcome home” died on her lips as she saw her friend. Em turned off the fire under her boiling potatoes and asked, “y/n, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” y/n swallowed trying to get some saliva back into her mouth and throat. She raised her and said in a hoarse voice, “I think I just saw a murder.” Emily’s jaw went slack for a second before she moved forward, police-like, and said, “Okay, y/n. You could have seen anything. It’s dark and gloomy out there.” y/n shook her head and said, “No, Em. Whatever I saw it was bad. I could feel it in my core.” Prentiss nodded, taking y/n seriously, the only one who would for a few days at least. She said, “Okay, y/n. Tell me everything. Think about things as clearly as possible. Don’t try and fill in any gaps, just tell me what you saw.” 

An hour later with Em trying to jog y/n’s memory to get the best information and writing down all the little and big details in her police pad, Prentiss said, “I’ll leave early tomorrow morning and check it out, y/n. Before I head to the station.” y/n’s eyes widened and she protested, “Shouldn’t we look now? There could be someone dying out there.” Emily dropped her eyes and sighed replying, “No, y/n. If what you say is true, then there’s nothing I can do tonight. I’d need more men, dogs, a whole setup.” After a pause Prentiss added, “And, y/n. There is no we in this. It’s dangerous. It’s safest for you to pretend you didn’t see anything tonight. Forget about it and don’t tell anyone.” y/n was frustrated by this response. However, she knew Em was correct. What could she do? Before y/n had a chance to say she was going to bed, Emily said, “Who are you bringing with you to meet Hotchner again?” 

y/n said in an almost deadpan voice, “Reid.” Emily frowned and said, “y/n, I’m going with you for that. I don’t trust Hotchner.” y/n’s head whipped up and she said, “Emily, it’s not like you can just stroll in there with Spence, and I. If Aaron and his family are as smart and powerful as you say, then he’ll know you’re a cop. I don’t think he’ll love that and I do still have to show up to a class with him, and sit across from him for the rest of the semester.” Prentiss could see y/n’s discomfort and replied, “I get it, y/n. And I know you’re trying to be nice, but I don’t want you going alone, and no, I don’t count Reid. I won’t walk in with you, and I won’t talk to you at all, but I will go and just keep an eye out.” y/n rubbed her tired eyes, saying, “Okay, Prentiss. We can talk about it tomorrow. I just want to go to bed now.” Em didn’t try and stop y/n as she moved past her and upstairs. y/n stripped out of her clothes from the day and fell into bed. She’d try and convince Em that she was a big girl tomorrow and didn’t need a bodyguard, but she was asleep before she could think of what she would say. y/n tossed and turned as she dreamed of the man outside her window and the person she’d seen with blood on their mouth, looking into her soul.

Text Break Banne by @cafekitsune

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[tickle-bugs]

Stupid in Love

Summary: Nick Miller is completely, 100% normal about all things Jessica Day. Including her smile, her laugh--ah, fuck. He's doomed. NickJess ft. pining!Nick

Anon: I just saw you write for New Girl! I am in my yearly rewatch of the show so I am so happy you write for it! Maybe the loft gang and CeCe can be playing a game of true American and somehow during the game it comes out that Jess is incredibly ticklish. Everyone is too focused on the game to use it to their advantage at the moment, but nick remembers and maybe later when him and Jess are together, he decided to test his new found knowledge and see just how ticklish Jess really is.

While this isn’t set during a particular episode, I was thinking HEAVILY about s2 ep15, Cooler. One of the greatest episodes of the whole show, hands down. I just wanted to write pining Nick tbh.

True American is the best goddamn game ever invented. It defines a man at his core level. Everything that’s ever mattered to Nick is on the line in this game. His dignity, his pride, his dignity…

He honestly can’t remember what they’re playing for. Something involving the sink. Or a drink? Unclear, but irrelevant. Nick is the king of an aluminum can palace and his citizens will thrive under his leadership. This is his birthright. 

They’re playing True American: Catan Edition tonight. Each player defends their own small nations and attempts to crush the others, throwing their leaders to the molten lava below. It’s the smartest thing Winston’s ever come up with. 

“Duel for my amusement,” Nick slurs, waving his paper towel roll scepter around. The cardboard crown on his head slips down over his eyes. Cece blows a raspberry at him. He lobs a balled-up piece of paper at her. 

Jess plays a fanfare into her backup kazoo—Schmidt threw away her main one—and draws angry eyebrows onto the smiley face of her country’s flag. A declaration of war. 

Sober Jess is all for political progress and human rights, but Drunk Jess? Maniacal, power-hungry, and so very hot.

Focus, Miller. 

“Two, four, six, eight! Who do we appreciate?” Jess climbs onto one of the kitchen chairs and puts a colander on her head. A warrior’s helm. Nick smiles at her. 

In their corner of the living room, Winston and Schmidt whisper furiously. At some point in the last hour, Winston had ascended to Grand Advisor of Schmidt’s Creek. Schmidt had lost the ability to speak after can number two, when Cece had flirted him out of all of his natural resources and a third of his land. Nick had been trying to think of how to poach Winston to Nicklandia, but he couldn’t think of a plan that didn’t involve saying ‘please’ until he passed out. 

“Schmidt’s Creek will not challenge today!” Winston crushes his beer can against Schmidt’s forehead. Schmidt doesn’t even blink.

“Ruth Gader Binsburg! I challenge your weird little colony, Jess,” Cece shouts, messily hopping onto the chair next to Jess. They start some combination of swatting at each other and clutching on for dear life. Schmidt looks up at Cece like a drunk, lovesick puppy. Nick rolls his eyes.

Thank god he doesn’t look like that.

Does he look like that?

Shit. He’s missing the game. 

“Yeah? Guess what—” Jess knocks her knuckles against the colander helmet, winces, and then points at Cece— “I’m the Queen of England, bitch.” 

Nick’s not sure what’s elapsed in the apparently three years since he was last paying attention, but he knows by the way that Cece gasps that someone’s dying on the living room and/or kitchen floor tonight. Jess cackles and puts her hands on her hips. They start yelling, but even if they’re saying real human words, which he’s pretty sure they’re not, he’s not processing it. Jess looks so stupid in that little holey hat—someone should invent a word for that thing—and she’s adorable. 

Nick leans his cheek on his palm and smiles wider. Does she know her nose scrunches when she’s annoyed? 

Nick leans a little too far and loses his balance. Half of his aluminum fortress tumbles down. When he looks back up, Jess and Cece haven’t budged. Or blinked. Cece squints at Jess and it’s clear the conversation has ascended to psychic levels that even Drunk Nick can’t access. He tries though. Mostly gives himself a headache. 

Something in their eye conversation must shift, because Cece gets this look on her face. Like pure, concentrated mischief. The aura off of her is so powerful that everyone scoots back a bit. Cece starts stretching and cracking her knuckles. 

“Waitwaitwait, Cece, you don’t have to do this.” Jess holds her hands up in immediate surrender, but she’s smiling hard enough to brighten the room. A little nervous giggle picks up in the back of her throat and she starts to turn pinker than the boxed rosé that forms her section of the living room. 

“Oh, but I do. Surrender. Now.” Cece points to the floor. Which is lava. Cruel way to go. 

Jess looks at her best friend with the kind of profound resignation only possible when piss drunk. She sighs deeply, staring at the floor…

And then launches herself at Cece with a war cry. 

Cece doesn’t even flinch. She catches Jess, smirks, and starts tickling her sides with vicious precision. Jess lets out a giggly shriek and crumples, sinking right down into the lava. The colander tumbles off of her head and rolls into Nick’s fortress. 

The sound worms itself into Nick’s brain, taking up residence alongside all the other little Jess things that drive him nuts. It distracts him hard enough that by the time Winston arises as Supreme Leader of the Loft, Nick can’t even trace the path of his defeat. 

………

Even when sobriety beats them over the head the next morning, Nick can remember nothing but the sweet music of Jess’s laugh. And the shape of her smile. 

God he’s hopeless. 

The slow march of the week brings some relief in the sense that a) Nick remembers that he really doesn’t do the whole ‘feelings’ thing and b) alcohol makes anyone look like an angel walking the earth. He is a grown ass man and Jess is an annoying little craft goblin. He can be normal. She’s normal. No need to get worked up over her.

“You look like Mr. Rogers’s grumpy cousin.” Jess snickers, fiddling with the sleeve of Nick’s hideous cardigan. 

“You done? You finished?” He pulls his sleeve away from her. It’s really Schmidt’s, which she very well knows. Nick’s only wearing it because Schmidt’s being weird about Cece again, and the only way to survive that is to bend to his will. Schmidt’s already dehydrated himself twice this week trying to show off his muscles more, Nick doesn’t want to add to that by making the guy cry. He’d never stop.

Jess, however, doesn’t seem to understand the magnitude of this manly sacrifice. She’s too busy laughing at him. 

“Mmmm, no, I don’t think I am. You look like a Muppet.” She pinches his cheek. He rolls his eyes. 

“Well, that’s just a compliment.” 

“No, no. You look like the bird. The bird with the eyebrows—“ Jess pauses as her giggles overtake her— “You look like Sam the Eagle.” 

Jess folds over into his shoulder with laughter and smacks his chest. The warmth of it almost distracts him from the comment. 

Almost. 

“Yeah, laugh it up, Jess. C’mere—“ He drags her across the couch by the ankle and latches onto her sides. She makes that adorable sound again, that giggly shriek, and flails like a worm on a hook. She tries to push his face away. He swats her hands aside like it’s nothing. When reaches for him again—futile, really—he snatches her wrists in one hand, pins them down, and tickles with the other. 

Her whole face burns. He chooses to ignore it for both of their sakes. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to apologize. Take your time.” He does a little pinchy thing with his fingers and Jess lets out a high-pitched mess of syllables. She throws her head back and cackles, arching up into him. 

“Hmm, yeah, see none of that sounded like ‘You’re the best, Nick Miller’. Try again.” He pokes all over her torso, fast and wild. He lets go of her and adds his other hand into the mix. Every time she tries to talk, he speeds up, making her laugh at his silliness along with his hands. She kicks her legs and lets out a little giggly growl. Nick smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. 

“Nick!” She grabs his wrists but doesn’t stop him. His stomach flips. She’s so overwhelming. 

“That’s my name.” He skitters his fingers up her ribs to distract himself from the lump in his throat. 

Jess flails and nearly takes them both off the couch and into the next life. Nick catches himself before he collapses on top of her, but it puts their faces mere inches apart. The space of a breath. He can see the faint freckles across her nose, all brought forth by the pink flush down her cheeks and neck. As she catches her breath, lips parted, her laughter simmers low in her chest. He brushes her hair out of her face. His hand lingers on her cheek. 

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles. Does she know that? 

Nick gets the deep, burning urge to kiss her senseless. To download all these embarrassing, vulnerable thoughts from his brain to hers. To show her how deep this goes. To drink of her like the wine at restaurants he can never afford. 

No. Not like this. She deserves better than this.

Than him.

He starts to pull away, awkwardly clearing his throat. Jess surges forward and Nick’s stupid little monkey brain gleefully claps its hands together, shouting this is it! It’s happening! Nick’s brain activity screeches to a halt. He stares at her mouth and freezes. 

Jess flips them over and starts tickling his ears like some kind of insane supervillain. 

“No! Jessica!” He turtles and attempts to fling himself to safety. All he accomplishes is hanging off the back of the couch, leaving his knees in reach of Jess’s evil nails—

One day he will be smart about Jessica Day, but he concedes that it won’t be today. But as she destroys him and Schmidt’s stupid, hopefully inexpensive cardigan, he secretly hopes the day never arrives. 

[sinisterexaggerator]

Tech and Hondo Ohnaka (Part 5)

Rated: Teen and up (a rare general audiences fic on my part.)

Warning: Death mention.

Fic Summary: Tech is plummeting toward death, yet he is spared, all thanks to a Weequay pirate who was simply in the wrong place at the right time, depending.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: This is a kind of crack / AU scenario. I like the idea of Hondo being the one to encounter Tech after his fall. The idea was definitely inspired by Phee's line at the end of season 2: "Well, don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers while you're gone,." :) Don't take this too seriously, though at the same time I tried to make it plausible. The main point of this was to have fun with Tech and Hondo ribbing each other in their own way. I love both of these characters, and I am excited to see what you guys think.

*Welcome to another update! I am on a roll! I find writing shorter chapters helps me update more often! Enjoy!

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4 | Read on Ao3

Surprisingly, the pirate was not all talk. Tech was pleased, insofar as they had nearly made it to the mine undetected, Hondo leading the way with the clone in tow. Although, he had never felt so useless as he did now.

Feeling helpless was new to him, yet he was fully cognizant of his limitations, only pushing himself as much as he dared. While that meant he had to physically slow down, his brain was very much still active to his partner’s chagrin, the commando giving his two credits at every turn.

“It is prudent we remain vigilant and that we do not rush headfirst into something unprepared.” Tech hesitated. “What is your plan? You failed to mention it.”

Hondo did not answer.

“Do you have a plan?” Tech questioned. The scoundrel whirled around, the tail end of his coat swishing to a stop behind him.

“Let me remind you, you are dealing wit Hondo Ohnaka, de notorious pirate captain of de Ohnaka Gang! I am an expert strategist, once employed as an advisor tu Porla de Hutt for my excellent deduction skills, not tu mention I have both defeated and captured Jedi and Sith alike! Du. I. Have. A. Plan. Hah!”

Tech was not impressed. “Well?”

Hondo cleared his throat before turning back around. “Nu,” he admitted. “But dat does not mean we shall not be successful! Tings alllllways have a way of working out when Hondo es envolved.”

“That is less than reassuring.”

“Bah! What du you know?”

“Quite a lot.”

Hondo ignored him, skirting past an outcrop of rock to hug the shadows, veering far to his left. It was apparent that he meant to creep along the outer wall before attempting to enter, though Saw was close by, his lone man discussing something, both crouched down low in the dark behind a monolithic boulder.

“Do not attempt to sneak up on them. It will not end well,” Tech half yelled, half whispered, knowing that Saw would most likely shoot first and ask questions later.

“Hondo does not sneak,” the pirate shot back, picking up his pace.

Tech sighed in aggravation; how unfortunate that he should be hobbled and at the mercy of this freebooter. He was tempted to stun him to halt his advance, wondering if he should bind him in some manner until they could discuss things properly. Of course, he doubted the pirate would appreciate it. He would most likely try to leave him behind when the opportunity arose. No, as asinine as it seemed, it was best to let whatever nonsense was about to occur run its course; Tech reluctantly strove to remain at Hondo’s side.

“If you would only allow me to—”

“Hello, hello, my friends!” Hondo began, causing Tech to openly wince. His reaction was visceral, the clone unable to control his facial expression until it was already too late. Luckily, no one was paying attention to him, and he was still wearing his heads-up display, while Saw Guerra’s gaze was fixed strictly on the Weequay who approached them, his dark eyes filled with apprehension.

“Stop,” he commanded, standing to his feet with his blaster drawn and at the ready.

“Now, now, dere es nu need for violence. I have come tu help you!” The pirate smiled his most toothy smile. “And. En return, I hope you will help me.” There was a pause as he remembered he was not alone. “Annnd, dis other guy.”

“Who the hell are you?” Saw demanded, the other Partisan joining him. This man had also drawn his blaster. Tech had no desire to interact with Saw, but he would if he must. He supposed there really was no other alternative, as this facility was, for all he knew, the closest place in any direction that housed any sort of starship.

“I am so glad you asked! My name es Hondo Ohnaka, de infamous pirate and leader of de Ohnaka Gang. Perhaps you have heard of me?” The rogue’s smile broadened, as if he expected a positive answer. Saw’s eyes shifted to the Weequay’s right, finally spotting Tech standing just to the side and behind him, having chosen to remain in the dark.

“I know you ... why are you here?” he asked offhandedly, addressing Tech, though Hondo assumed he was speaking directly to him.

“Ah, yes! Good! I was hoping you would, as I aided you and your cause back on Onderon. Dose rocket launchers Skywalker paid me tu deliver did de job, I take et? As for de reason I am here—”

Tech blinked in surprise, his blurry eyesight homing in on Hondo—he knew General Skywalker?

“Not you, him,” Saw motioned with his head toward the clone waiting on the periphery. Tech recovered, taking a step forward to more formally join the conversation.

“You may consider that your doing.”

Hondo looked affronted at being so quickly dismissed, his gray eyes narrowing at Saw’s disrespect. “You are welcome,” the pirate seethed, thinking some kind of gratitude was in order after he had gone out of his way for this man so, so long ago.

Saw returned his focus to Hondo, only seeming mildly confused by Tech’s response. “Onderon is not something I find joy in remembering,” he explained. “It was with those weapons that I inadvertently killed Steela.” Saw’s brows furrowed at the memory and his voice softened. “I should have never brought down that gunship.” Then, he glanced back at the commando who looked rather worse for wear. “What do you mean by that?”

“Steela?” Hondo inquired, his voice having taken to a lower register, “was dat your … lovely sister? She was … so very beautiful. How I would have loved tu help her escape from dat war… En any case, I am sorry for your loss.”

Tech scrunched up his nose in distaste, finally pushing up his visor. “Now is not the time,” he informed the Weequay, whose current topic of conversation was irrelevant to what they had come here to accomplish. If he wished to befriend Saw, he was sure mentioning his sister’s physical attractiveness was not the way to do so, whether he gave him his condolences or not.

“When you triggered the explosives, you severed power to the railcars—the ones we were using for our escape. To keep a long story short, while I was successful at restoring power, it was not without sacrificing my own chance of getting off this planet. Truth be told, I am lucky to be alive.”

“He took a rather nasty fall … dedn’t you, Tech?” Hondo folded his arms across his chest. “And dat leads us tu your original question: ‘why are you here?’”

Saw looked between the two men. “You can put the blame on me all you want to, but what I did was necessary. We’ve been over this.”

“What you did was—”

“—Iiiiii am sure et was, my friend, aldough your actions caused an equal and opposite reaction.” Tech glared at the Weequay for having interrupted him for the umpteenth time, but he continued, nonetheless. “For you see, now I du not have a ship, and what I am hearing es et es due tu someting or another you have caused—dis explosion sending de clone you see here, and dis railcar, directly entu my SoroSuub Personal Luxury Yacht 3000!”

“I don’t have time for this,” Saw stated, “I’m sure this outpost—”

“—Et es not an outpost, but a lommite mine—” Hondo corrected him.

“—this mine has more than enough ships to get us both off this damn planet, as long as we can get past security. We were devising a gameplan before you two showed up, and I’d like to get back to it.”

“And what happened? Where are your other men?” Tech asked, ignoring his uncalled-for attitude. He thought Saw and his compatriots would have long since fled the system, though being several men down suggested something had obviously gone wrong during their retreat.

It was Saw’s turn to sigh. “We were overrun by troopers on the way out. We barely escaped the hangar, but were shot down by Imperial V-wings before we could break atmo. We’re … all that’s left.”

Tech pursed his lips. “And was it worth it?” he asked, unable to keep his irritability masked.

“Yes,” Saw replied in the same harsh tone, Hondo listening to their back and forth until he had ultimately heard enough.

“Gentleman, gentleman. All dat matters now es we are all witout ships, derefore I suggest dat we work tugether en order tu get off dis wretched—”

“No,” Tech and Saw said in unison, causing the pirate to frown.

“What du you mean nu?”

“It’s obvious we don’t see eye to eye.”

“What is obvious is that you would use us as a means to your own end. I have little doubt that you would leave us behind if it meant you would be able to escape.”

“I do what has to be done.”

“So, I am correct.”

“In your condition,” Saw made a point to look Tech up and down, “you would only slow us down.”

Hondo huffed, becoming increasingly irate. “You both have de maturity of younglings! Have you not heard de saying, ‘de enemy of my enemy es my friend?’”

Tech was indignant. “My squad thinks I am presumably dead; I would not be in this predicament if you had listened to reason.”

“Perhaps, but we can’t go back, and I wouldn’t change the outcome.” Saw nodded to the man at his side, who had until this point remained silent, preferring to stay out of the argument. “Let’s go.”

“You are just going tu leave us here?!” Hondo asked, raising his voice in anger. He had hoped to find an ally, especially as the clone he was toting around was in such bad shape. Realistically, he was not sure if they would be able to pull this off, though now he supposed they had no choice but to try by their lonesome, the pirate watching as the pair of Partisans snuck down further toward the entrance of the mine.

“May Rauk keep you,” Hondo offered with a sinister air, shifting to face Tech who stood immobile, staring straight ahead as he watched Saw and his partner wander off.

“Who or what is Rauk?” Tech asked, turning his head to look at him, though he was only a dark blob against a backdrop of rocks.

“De Weequay god of misfortune and death,” Hondo smiled. “Shall we?”

Tech gazed at him a moment longer, thinking to wish them harm was needless, yet he refrained from comment. “Do we have a choice?”

“I have a choice,” Hondo reminded him, “you du not.”

Tech bit back what he truly desired to say, knowing that nothing good would come from it. “Then I suppose we shall.”

[megatraven]

If there was a Euryale route, how do you think it would begin? 🤔 🤔🤔

Euryale and Stheno are taken into HERA's custody after a gang battle starts catching human attention. To fix this, HERA assigns each sister an agent, to help keep them in line... or at least out of sight.

MC volunteers to be one such agent, and Cyprin gives her the case to give her a leg-up on becoming a real field agent. It's supposed to be a mostly passive role- an advisor, of sorts.

Euryale is anything but passive, and MC learns that very very quickly. She's loud and abrasive and can't go two sentences without threatening someone. And, she's.... cute.

Kind of fucked up, right? This gorgon, who has WAY too much fun with knives, and who hasn't shut up about turning her to stone if she gets in the way, is. Well. MC has eyes.

And beyond her good looks, and very, very, very tough exterior, MC can see that she genuinely cares about the gang. It's why she works everybody so hard, and why she wants full leadership. It's why she gets so pouty when things don't work out right- and why she gets so angry.

So MC puts her nose to the grindstone and does what she does best: she works her case. It's her job to help sort out the gang's issue, and no matter how dangerous it gets, she's going to find a way for Euryale to take the reins. It would stop all the fighting, and it would likely make Euryale much happier. Maybe a smidge less violent (though MC suspects that she's just as explosive when she's happy).

Eventually, Euryale becomes comfortable enough with MC's presence that she's not constantly watching her with suspicion; in fact, she starts looking at MC with something much different. Respect, almost. Something close to it. Even she has to admit that MC is trying to help her. That she's on her side.

And despite the ongoing threats (they're part of her charm, she can't just drop them), the two of them get closer, working together as much as they have been. Her knife doesn't seem as terrifying (it's actually kind of hot, but MC will Not be unpacking that just then), and her threat of turning her to stone feels... Okay, not exactly empty. But Euryale seems to have taken on a gleeful sort of look each time she says it, like she might enjoy staring at a statue of MC- appreciate the beauty rather than boast about the conquering.

ANYWAYS

When another gang fight breaks out, and when MC is in the thick of it, it's Euryale that protects her, with an aura just as cute and as vicious as she is. It leads into the first night they have together. (Euryale helps her home, given MC's shaken up from the experience.)

That's all i've thought of thus far :] this is probably half or two-thirds of a season 1 speculation

[lassieposting]

Things Kirigan and Kaz have in common:

- Fashion Sense: Both like understated elegance, relying on flattering cuts and quality fabrics to project an air of status and wealth. Both favour black with metallic accent colours (gold, silver, copper, brass). Both appreciate a good brocade.

- A Beloved Pet Dumbass: Kaz has Jesper and his gambling addiction. Kirigan has Nikolai and his complete lack of self-preservation.

- Touch Aversion: specifically as a result of childhood trauma.

- Devotedly Loyal #2: Ivan for Kirigan, Jesper again for Kaz.

- Missing Sibling: Kaz is a little brother without a big brother, and Kirigan is a big brother with a little sister he only sees rarely.

- Heart Eyes For Wifey: Inej for Kaz, Alina for Kirigan.

- Tactical Minds: Strategy is Kirigan's literal job and Kaz has a talent for outmanoeuvring his enemies - he plans the Crows' heists.

- Snark Knight In Dented Armour Personality: They're both deeply traumatised, broken men with massive trust issues who are nonetheless charismatic, fiercely loyal and very protective of those they care for. Kaz uses his influence to protect his crows, and rescues Inej from the Menagerie. Kirigan is a living shield between Fjerda/Shu Han/the less tolerant Lantsov kings and Ravka's Grisha population, and he's willing to take on his own merzost monsters to protect Alina.

- Power & Influence: Kaz is the head of his gang of criminals, vaguely analogous to a mob boss. Kirigan runs an army. Both are lonely, isolating, high-pressure roles where they are surrounded by underlings, not equals.

- Childhood Circumstances: Kaz was left homeless and destitute in a dangerous, degenerate city after Jordie lost their money and subsequently died. Kirigan was raised as a hunted minority, impoverished and perpetually on the move. They'd likely share some essential childhood skills; sleight of hand, light fingers, a flexible interpretation of personal property, cheating at cards, etc. Skills they could've used to feed themselves when nothing else would.

With that in mind:

Friendship Thoughts

- They're (officially - no one here has forgotten The Bomb Incident) introduced by Nikolai post-war. Sturmhond has done contract work for Kaz in the past - mostly overseas couriering of dubiously legal merchandise - and likes to drink at the Crow Club when he's docked in Ketterdam.

- Kaz recounting the story of his triumph over Pekka Rollins, however many years in the making, over a civilised glass of whiskey with the same kind of savage satisfaction Kirigan recognises from finally winning a brutal, drawn-out campaign.

- (Kirigan advises him to take in the Rollins boy, and be a kind mentor to him. Leaving him with the Dime Lions who are loyal to his father allows them to make him your enemy. Taking him prisoner and mistreating him does the same thing yourself. Far better to control both the boy and the narrative he's told from a young age. Trust him, Mr. Brekker, he has made that mistake with so. Many. Princes. Harmless boys will come back as angry men to bite you in the arse.)

- Deep, involved debates and discussions on tactics and strategy. Kirigan is an incredibly powerful Grisha and, while he grew up in the dirt, has spent centuries as a supposed "nobleman" and politically influential advisor to the Ravkan crown. Kaz spent much of his life as a penniless, powerless Barrel rat clawing his way out of the gutter with nothing but his wits. They approach the same problem from very different perspectives with very different assumed-available resources and see things the other would miss.

- Nikolai inviting Kaz to fancy Ravkan balls like it's a fucking play date. Kirigan can introduce him to a whole new network of wealthy investors if he wants to grow his business interests, open up a new echelon of society. And when they're not doing that, they can hide out in the corner being antisocial and judging everyone else's fashion choices.

- Long, dry letters exchanged across an ocean. Kaz sends a page and a half of Trouble Jesper Has Gotten Into Lately to Os Alta, in miniscule, italicised handwriting. After a few weeks, he receives three swirly, copperplate pages of Stupid Shit Niko Has Done This Month in return. For both of them, this is mostly entertainment, a brief break from an endless stream of boring paperwork to snort at the antics of someone else's idiot.

- Swapping skillsets. Kaz has plenty of his own informants in Ketterdam, but will sometimes write to tap into the Darkling's extensive, notoriously on-the-ball spy network, if foreign intelligence will be useful for a job. In exchange, he'll use his criminal network now and then to get Kirigan things from the black market - explosives, firearms, supplies Ravka is running low on, escaped Grisha indentures - on the quiet.

- Corecloth suits for Kaz. Fancy court waistcoats with Kerch embroidery for Kirigan. Swapping tailor recommendations. It sounds snarky, like they're subtly dunking on each other, but they're enjoying themselves. Jesper and Nikolai can simultaneously bond over being flamboyant and debonair.

- Nikolai learns quickly not to play cards with either of them. He knows how to cheat well enough, but Kaz and Kirigan are playing 5D Cheating Chess with sleight of hand, crimped cards and gaslighting, and if he keeps at it he'll lose everything down to his trousers. It's always the quiet ones.

- Mutual grousing about how inconvenient Feelings are. These two sat at the bar in the Crow Club downing shots while Kaz laments that Inej left him to go adventuring and Kirigan tries to explain that Alina murdered him but he got better. Plenty of salty side-eye aimed at Wylan and Jesper, being cute and couply at the Makker's Wheel table.

- "...is that a De Kappel?" "It is. What of it?" "I met him, once. About thirty, thirty-five years ago. He came to paint Pyotr's wedding portrait." "My wraith procured that one for me." "Ugh, perhaps you could have her procure ours, as well. It's still hanging in the throne room. I'm tired of seeing his pug face every time I report to Nikolai."

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Mona Aguilar is based on Minako Aino from Sailor Moon. She is a 26 year old superhero, podcaster and uses she/her pronouns. She has the power of illusionary perfection and multi-beam emission. Mona is portrayed by Sue Ramirez and she is taken.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

If gossip blogs aren't your thing and you love some harmless, innocent fun, chances are you've heard of the V podcast. What once started as a passion project born from the desire to connect with people and help others quickly became one of the most popular shows on your favorite listening platform, followed by a plethora of fans. To top it all off, a mystery: who is V, the girl who's become no short of an idol to all? It may be a surprise to know that would be Mona Aguilar, the charismatic, silly yet classy girl with a red bow in her hair. Luckily, the success of her podcast didn't change after waking up in Evermore, though it seemed everything else did. Having the memories from her past life and the years before Evermore intact, Mona knows exactly who she is and what she is looking for: the Sailor Scouts. She always hoped to somehow reach them through the podcast, but the task has turned out to be even harder than she had anticipated. Still, it's not to say her life in Evermore is bad; under the protection of the planet Venus and alongside her guardian-advisor Artemis, she keeps a close eye on the people of this town, ensuring their safety in such a strange place shrouded in magic and mystery. If you're looking to learn more about Mona, tune in to the V podcast; she's always happy to chat and give advice to her audience — especially on their love life!

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Daphne Blake: Right from day one, Mona knew Daphne would become one of her favorite people in the whole world, and she was right! Nevertheless, it's hard to maintain her life as Sailor Venus a secret from the mystery solver and her gang. ❀ Trixie Tang: They could have been such good friends and Mona knows that, especially with their shared interests! If only Trixie had been a little nicer… ❀ Theodore Holms: While Mona can appreciate the detective's hard work, she imagines it can be pretty overwhelming. Not to worry though, the girl is always happy to lend a hand, especially if it means uncovering the town's secrets.

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

[alterrune]

ALTERNARUNE - MISSSION 7 (BOSS 2)

(Both teams exit from their kettles. The Advisor quickly rushes over to us, seemingly out of breath.)

What's the situation, Advisor Three?

Grizzco just gave PMD!Kyle and Blastie quite a fright. He said if we don't stop and let this happen, he'll fuzzify your world as well.

He's bluffing. He has to be.

(Suddenly, as if on cue, Alter's phone rings. It's Reginald and RHM!)

Reginald? Right Hand Man? What's going on?

"Well, Alter, we just had quite the close call. Seems someone planted bombs filled with this strange technicolor goop onto the Airship, the Orbital Station, and even on GEOGRAM's base."

"Luckily my sensors spotted 'em all right away. Managed to disarm all the ones planted on the Airship and on the Orbital Station, and got those GEOGRAM blokes on the line to disarm the bombs in their base real quick."

Funny you mention that. We have a pretty good idea on who made the strange goop and planted those bombs, and we're en route to take him down right now. By the way, this is important: did you dispose of the ooze the bombs held?

"Yes, of course we did. The stuff was FAR too concentrated to be studied, so we put the samples in biohazardous waste containers and stored them in a secure location. We can't really destroy it, but we can store it away under maximum-security lock and key for now."

"Heh, yer lucky we're still here after everything that's happened. We're too tough to go down, especially since Reggie got those augements back a bit ago."

Great. Keep an eye on that stuff and do not let ANYONE near it. I'll see you back at the Airship for Christmas soon enough. Over and out.

(Alter puts his phone away.)

Ooookay, so Grizz wasn't bluffing after all. We need to speed things up.

Luckily for you, I think I know just how to do that. I've managed to get enough Power Eggs for L'il Buddy to eat up enough fuzzy ooze to get you all to the next boss kettle. I'll set you all to Super Jump there right now.

(Suddenly, we all Super Jump to the boss kettle. Upon entering, we're greeted by a familar voice.)

GREETINGS, CITIZENS. YOU ARE IN AN UNAUTHORIZED AREA RESTRICTED TO ALTERNAN AUTHORITY ONLY. PLEASE LEAVE OR---

O.R.C.A., there's someone in the area already. We're here to get them out of it.

OH MY, IT SEEMS THAT YOU ARE CORRECT. I SHALL LIFT RESTRICTIONS FOR THIS AREA SO YOU CAN DEAL WITH THIS.

Thanks, O.R.C.A.! You're a nice lady, y'know that?

COMPLIMENT APPRECIATED, MS. VIOLET WOLFSBANE.

(We enter the boss area. This one is slightly different than Shiver's. But as we approach the center of the arena...)

HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!!!

(A yellow-haired inkling with a HUMONGOUS forehead stops us in our tracks. She seems to be holding a flute of some kind...?)

Hey, forehead. Explain to us exactly what's going on here.

Oh...you must be the ColorStreak Battalion. Hey, tell you what, you ditch those idiots in the New Squidbeak Splatoon, join our gang, and make tons of moolah! How's that sound?

Tempting, but no dice. We're here for that piece of scrap, and if you won't step aside, we'll have to fight you.

I thought as such. Welp, it was worth a try, at least. Anyways, you want to make me lose? Well, I've had enough losses for my entire life! Do you know that I haven't won a single Splatfest for TWO YEARS?! I already lose every single Splatfest, I won't lose this! Eels, come forth!

(The inkling plays her flute, and suddenly, a giant hollowed out head CLOMPS onto the battlefield, infested with eels.)

You like? That's the head of an old Octarian superweapon, the Octostomp. It's basically the Octoling equivalent to a human skull. Still wanna do this? Last chance to take our offer.

(click) No dice. We came in here to fight, and that's damn well what we're going to do.

Fine. Your funeral, pal.

Say it with sizzle...I'm Frye!

DANCE FORMATION: MORAY WHIRLPOOL!

(Frye's eels suddenly begin to whirl around us, about to move in for the kill.)

I hope these suits have rubber insolation...

BEGINNING BOSS FIGHT: THE PRECIOUS STARES BACK

[jafanadis]

Full Name: Derrick Tatsumi Soga (曽我 龍己)

Nickname: Sensei, Sansei Sensei, Soga Sensei, Onii-San, Surfer Dude

Age: 28

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Orientation: Bi

Height: 6’2

Species: Human

Nationality: American (Japanese)

Occupation: Teacher, Advisor

Alliance: The Jade Owls

Alignment: Protagonist

Theme Song: Call On Me by Raye

Character Song: Es Por Ti by Juanes Instrumental

Voice Claim: Best Jeanist from My Hero Academia (Micah Solusod)

About

The self-appointed big brother of the Jade Owls, Derrick is a Lumokinesis User who is the teacher of Russell and Zia. Thrown into things beyond her control, he is captured by The Jithran Guards and put into a prison ship alongside his students, Russell and Zia. He is then whisked away in a into a jail break committed by several prisoners who steal the ship for their own. Now wanted for Barratry and associating with an Ergokinetic user, Derrick is now a member of the Jade Owls. A rag-tag gang of wanted criminal mercenaries who travel throughout Otacaia by sea and air, looking for missions and avoiding the authorities. Derrick in addition acts as an advisor to the leadership of the Jade Owls (i.e. Haerile, Miri, and Suri).

Personality

Derrick is a calm, logical, casual and optimistic man who gives great advise for his teammates, though there are times when he can be serious when the time calls for it, especially when mediating between his teammates. He isn’t afraid to be honest with his teammates if he thinks one of their ideas is not a good one. After a near death experience, he has learned to appreciate life to its fullest.

Miscellaneous

He speaks with a standard Hawaiian accent, specifically from the Honolulu area, which becomes thicker when he speaks Pidgin.

His Japanese name is Tatsumi Soga (曽我 龍己), in America, his first name in Japanese name takes the place of his English middle name.

He is a practicing Jodo Shinshu Buddhist who is proud of his Japanese heritage

He can speak Japanese and Hawaiian Pidgeon, but he can’t speak French to save his life.

He lost his right leg below the knee while surfing at 16 to either a Shark or a Yanek, depending on the timeline. He can still surf and due aerobics with the aid of his prosthetic leg.

He gained the power to use Lumokinesis at a late age, right around the time it was discovered that Russell could use Ergokinesis. As a result, He has the power to use Lumokinesis and gained this ability at a late age. He can manipulate and control light, use "rainbow beams" as a form of an attack, create different shapes of light, summon "rainbow weapons", as well as imbue the light into physical weaponry.

He has two sisters, Alison (Miyuki) and Haley Jennifer, and two brothers Tucker (Koji) and Jeffery (Masahiro).

He has a fursona, which is an owl named Oliver the Owl, he has a fursuit which he keeps under lock and key. While dressed in his fursuit, he gives online lectures of Japanese and Hawaiian history and culture.

He hates anime and hates it when people assume he likes anime because he is of Japanese descent. He particularly hates yaoi because he sees the relationships portrayed in those manga as unrealistic.

Otacaia, and all of its characters, species, races, information, et al © Jafan Adis, 2022-2024, All Rights Reserved.

[ascnsionismx]

Before Jude, most of Mathias' advice came from the Higher Ups. At first their were subtle with the ways they would push their agenda, but as Mathias got older they got lazier with hiding it. This was why he wanted someone outside of the gang to be his advisor. Someone who had no connections with the Deathrunners, and only knew Mathias as himself at first. Even if Jude said things Mathias didn't agree on he still appreciated hearing it.

Mathias nodded as Jude took the skull, wishing to feel his touch for more than a brief moment. "Yes. It was one of the first skills I learned when I first came here. I needed companionship, so I made these little animals. They started small at first, little mice or small birds, but now I can use whatever animal I find". He smiled at the name, "Archimedes is a great name for an owl. You can use him to speak with me, or even check up on me if I'm not around...Since I know all of you worry about me so much".

Mathias knew that he wasn't the first to go down a path like this, and he wouldn't be the last sadly. He didn't know it, but this fate had been written for him long before he even made contact with the Deathrunners. "I suppose I just don't understand how anyone could become fit for something like this". When Jude took his hand, Mathias felt his heart leap. It was probably a problem that he had such a reaction to one person. How easily Jude could disrupt his whole world if he saw fit. But maybe Mathias wanted that. Maybe he wanted this priest to tear apart his world and leave it in pieces.

He ran his thumb over the back of Jude's hand, then held it up so they could both look at them. Mathias splayed his hand out, his palm against Jude's seeing how their hands were so different. "Let's talk about something nicer, yeah? Have you had a chance to explore the bayou yet? I know it seems like a place most wouldn't want to explore, but it's quite beautiful. In May the fireflies come out and dance along the water and in the cypress branches. Like thousands of living stars burning bright just for us to see". He looked up at Jude, smiling at him with a gentleness Mathias could only really muster for him.

"Have you eaten yet?"

Jude had never been good at telling someone that wanted his help no. Probably one of the reasons why he'd accepted Mathias' invitation to be his advisor in the first place. It gave him a sense of purpose. And the knowledge that Mathias really wanted his help and opinion, even when it differed.

Jude nodded his head at the response. "You don't have to say sorry. It's a lot. " Jude looked at the skull for a moment. And when Mathias said it was for him reached his cool hands out and took it, his fingers touching Mathias'. "Oh. Thank you." He looked at Mathias as he explained what it was. He smiled and almost asked if Mathias was worried that Jude was lonely so he was giving him a pet. "A way to talk to you?" He asked, wanting to better understand what it was going to do. He looked at the fragile looking skull and said, "Archimedes."

He looked up at Mathias again when the topic shifted. "I think that there is no way to know. It's more about you trying to become fit for these things. Most people called to a path start out feeling utterly unprepared but there is a reason why it was them. Like Moses. Or Jonah." Jude reached out and took Mathias' hand in his and squeezed it. "It's been a lot. How you're feeling right now is because of that. The feeling won't last."

[ricihh]

Togo Atatsuma Headcanons!! (Not Yandere Au)

Tsundere (both with Ryoba and with his friends).

He fell in love with Ryoba right after she helped him defeat that gang.

Straight ally (doesn't understand much of this stuff, but supports it).

Easily frustrated and embarrassed.

He likes to play tough and dangerous, but he is a soft jelly inside.

Closed about himself even to his friends.

Overprotective with those he loves. He does not hesitate to start a fight if necessary—and when not necessary, too.

He architected a dating proposal with his group that turned out very wrong. He proposed to Ryoba a few days later in private when he could face her again.

Shichiro Kurosapu was angry with him for getting a girlfriend, but soon tried to ask for tips on how to get one for himself as well.

His best friend in the gang of delinquents is Saburo Meshino. Togo gets along very well with him because of his more mature, serious and calm demeanor, treating him as a good advisor for when he feels lost or needs something. He may or may not believe the rumors that surround him.

He has a difficult relationship with his brother. He has always admired him since he was a child and still wants to be like him, but his brother's distancing and disapproval of his behavior have created conflicting feelings in Togo. He hates his brother's overprotective manner and tries his best to overcome it, to prove to him that he is able to achieve the same things as his brother— totally the opposite of what his brother wants for him. Togo began to treat this as a competition and developed several self-esteem problems and a huge emotional block because of this detachment. He knows that The Yakuza worked hard for him, but he hoped that he would notice more of his admiration.

As said before, problems with self-esteem. Mainly with his appearance and capacity to receive love.

And this prevented him for a long time from letting his hair down (which is what his hair naturally looks like). The gel hair is to show himself more dangerous and rebel against looking even physically like his brother. He is finally able to let go of the gel after a while with Ryoba, who has always claimed to find him beautiful in every way.

He knows that his brother approves of him and Ryoba because she can fix him. He doesn't like that thought, but he feels safer about maybe not pursuing a career in crime with Ryoba around because he wants to protect her.

He likes music a lot. His favorite style of music is metal.

He can play guitar and taught Ryoba to play as well when she wanted to try the light music club. They both play together sometimes.

He never liked video games, but got used to playing along with Ryoba and has a soft spot for rhythm games—he had to hold back his excitement when guitar hero became popular, eventually buying one from Ayano with the excuse of “that's what's popular these days” only to be seen playing along with her days later (202X).

Soft on the inside, but hates that Ryoba (and anyone else) exposes this side of him.

He denies it, but he is quite fond of sweets. He silently appreciated it when Ryoba started making homemade sweets.

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Lip Piercing

Summary || [Eddie Munson X Female Reader] To you it's just an insignificant piece of jewelry, but to him it's everything

Labret (bottom lip piercing) || 2.1k words || NO BETA/ BARELY EDITED, Post High School Graduation, Slightly Insecure Reader, Eddie Being Adorkable And Inanely Flirty, Descriptions of Intolerant World View, First Kiss, Light NSFW Ending

Just Quinn Fics | Main Masterlist

Hey-o, if you enjoy this fic, feel free to let me know in the comments or reblog with comment and tell me what you liked about it or maybe a favorite line (or just keyboard smash, I know what you mean) ❤ they are always appreciated

It's your turn to host tonight's party meeting. From the minute Eddie Munson graduated, the party was adamant that he continue to be a part of Hellfire club. And while he wasn't allowed on school premises by school administration anymore, he had taken up the unofficial positions of Hellfire Presidential Advisor and Newbie Mentor. 

It's not that the new Hellfire cabinet didn't know how to teach, it's more like they lacked the time and patience to do it themselves. Lucas had to quit both of his extracurriculars to help Max recover in physical therapy, and president Dustin and vice president Mike did their best to balance all of their club responsibilities with their school and non-Hellfire relationships. 

"It's just a little extra hand," Eddie had reasoned to himself. "A couple hours every week spreading the joy of the greatest fantasy game ever created." 

But you knew Eddie better. He missed the club. And on top of that, his garage band had also had to take a hiatus after Jeff got an unexpected full ride scholarship from some out of state college and their drummer's messy parental divorce forced him to move to Iowa. Between losing friends and being bottom rung at his new garage shop job, you knew he was holding back how much the changes were affecting him. 

That's why you invited him over to your house hours early to help set up. Normally, if he had the time available, you'd use Steve or other older members of the gang, but today you just wanted to spend some time alone with your good friend to make sure he was okay. You gave him a list of supplies to pick up and told him to meet you at yours after your quick morning shift. 

It's unlike Eddie to show up on time but he's close enough– only ten minutes late. You can hear the retching growl of his elderly van pulling off the road and into the grass in front of your house. Smiling, you wipe your hands on the kitchen cloth and subconsciously turn your body to the side door, only to be surprised to hear a knock at your front door. 

It takes you a moment of confusion before you open it to find that, yes, it was still Eddie. He looked just as surprised to see you as you were to see him (and seemed to be glancing downward at something). 

"Hey Ed," you say slowly. "You never come through this door…" 

It was just known. Eddie had always been welcome in your house which was too small to be called a bungalow but only slightly roomier than the trailer he lived in. The only people who used the front door were solicitors and your new friends– but Eddie always came through the side door, never a knock between them because he was always expected. It made a part of you sad that things had seemed to change so much in just a few months. 

He was still staring at you with a dumbstruck expression. It made you self conscious enough to look down yourself and check for possible stains on your shirt. Did you forget to wear a bra, perhaps? But when you looked, you found nothing out of the ordinary and looked back up at him, puzzled. 

"What? What's wrong?" 

Eddie shook his head quickly and skirted around you into the house, calling quickly, "nothing, nothing! It's just… didn't want to walk in on you in case your boyfriend was around." 

You snorted as you closed the door. "Boyfriend? What boyfriend?" 

"The Keeley guy, remember?" 

"Oh!" You rubbed a hand over your arm. "Oh that was a while ago; we never even made it to a third date. I can't believe I haven't talked to you about it, that was a month ago…" 

You feel increasingly troubled, but Eddie just bumps his forehead on your shoulder playfully. "Don't worry about it, we both got busy, that's all. I promise I'll use the side door next time. Your package, as requested." 

Then he presented the grocery bags filled with the party supplies. You take them and spread them out on your kitchen counter, talking as you do. “Thanks Ed. And thanks for coming over early to help me set up, I really appreciate it." 

Eddie nods from his position leaning against the counter. He hasn't offered further help nor does he seem particularly talkative despite all the things that you missed out on. He just continues to lean on the counter top with a mysterious smile and mischief in his eyes. 

You finally pause shifting party materials and cock a hand on your hip. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" 

Something swirls in the pit of your stomach as his smile quirks up in the corner. His eyes are trained on your lips and refuse to go anywhere else. It's a look you had seen Robin give Nancy from time to time before they got together. 

It's the kind of look you are not supposed to give to a girl who is 'just your friend.' 

Nervous about pointing out the flirty look even if jokingly, you subconsciously tuck your bottom lip between your teeth– and feel metal. 

Your whole body shudders. "Oh…" 

Your hand moves to cover the labret piercing, which you never ever ever wore in public or even told anybody about after you got it. It had been your silly little secret for a time and you had clumsily put it in the second you got home entirely out of habit, completely forgetting that Eddie counted as early company. 

For his part, Eddie seemed deeply amused by your weak attempt to hide the jewelry that had been winking at him in the light for the past twenty minutes. "When did you get that?," he asked, still smiling like a menace. 

You roll your eyes indignantly, "a while ago… it's not a big deal…" 

"Sure I just… never knew you had it in you," he replied, twisting his neck to get a view of it around your toying fingers. 

You dropped your hand and sighed, busying yourself with party set up and snack prepping. "It's just a piece of jewelry. It's cute! But everyone in the whole world thinks wearing something on anything other than your ears is a sign that you're a criminal or a devil worshiper." 

"You don't have to tell me," Eddie laughs. 

You shake your head and laugh alongside him. "I get one piercing on my lip, and suddenly everyone thinks I'm a thug, or a harlot, or I'm advocating deviancy of some kind. It has to mean something in their eyes, because they can't just see it for what it is: just… beautiful." 

Eddie slides a hand onto your shoulder and squeezes. Understanding radiates from his body in waves and you feel an unexpected sense of relief wash over you, like a weight lifted that you hadn't known was weighing you down. It's not an important secret, but having kept it to yourself had sort of made it into one. And now Eddie knew. Eddie, who would be the first in line to understand exactly what you mean when you say it's just jewelry. 

"For the record," he says into your ear, "I really like it." 

"You do?," you feel silly for asking because it's Eddie but it slips out of you anyways. 

He has his arms folded over his chest and wears a teasing smile. "Yeah. Goes real well with your chunky sweater and sensible jeans. Very big 'future cool mom' vibes." 

You punch him in the chest and laugh, "oh shut up, asshole!" 

The laughter dies out and you look at the clock, showing an hour before your rowdy guests will start to arrive. You fiddle with the stud, not wanting to take it out just yet but also far from ready to show the rest of the gang. Long, warm fingers wrap lightly around your wrist and pull your hand down, and suddenly you feel yourself being crowded into your counter by Eddie's body and you don't mind it. Nor do you mind how close his pretty face is to yours. 

"I really do like it," he says again in the slowly diminishing space between you. 

Instinctively, your hands find purchase on his hips and draw him flush against your own. It feels natural even though you have never done this before (with him, your friend). "Yeah?..." 

Eddie wants to do something about it. You want Eddie to do something about it. He leans in until his forehead touches yours and heat pools in your stomach feeling the weight of him against you. 

From so close, you can't see the way he bites his bottom lip but you do feel the tip of his nose bump your own. Your need for him aches and you grow impatient enough to tilt your head and barely brush your lips against his. It sets a fire in the blackened pools of his dark eyes as he feels your lips stick to his just a tiny bit upon the light contact. 

And still he hesitates and asks, "Jesus, please tell me this means I can kiss you and not make things weird between us?" 

"Eddie," you say in a scolding tone and dig your fingers into the lapels of his jacket so hard the leather squeaks, "if you don't kiss me right now, I'm going to–" 

Thank god he does because you have no idea what you were going to say next. His lips are incredibly soft and taste of a faint cherry something that only intensifies as he presses your shocked mouth open and licks your tongue. He can feel your body vibrating with need against him and it only makes him more desperate to keep going. His hands cradle your face and his hips press further into yours, effectively trapping you against the counter. And taking your bottom lip in his mouth comes the gratification of feeling the inorganic press of your lip piercing in his mouth. 

One kiss becomes a series of kisses, drawn out and hungry like a flame taking to new and unexpected kindling. Despite its suddenness, it doesn't feel strange, it just feels right. Hell, it feels like a long time coming, actually. Like you've been dancing around wanting each other since the beginning. 

It's Eddie who pulls away first and you find yourself gasping for air, so dizzy that if he hadn't been holding you up, you would surely have collapsed. One of his arms wraps around your back and you feel with some embarrassment that sweat had been collecting in your undershirt and it quickly turns from cold to hot as he holds you there. 

You open your eyes and focus on his lips, unsure of what you might find if you look into his eyes and you are grateful when he doesn't force you to look. 

"Whoa," he sings in a gravelly voice that vibrates in your chest. "That was… intense." 

A chuckle escapes you and you let the air start to clear. Though your dizziness quickly dissipates, your light headedness doesn't fade and you still feel like your floating. This sensation is nurtured by the way Eddie subconsciously rocks, cradling you against his chest and almost dancing to music in his head. You are convinced he is partially, if not completely unaware that he is even doing it, and you rest your chin on his chest in contentment. 

This little cocoon of budding love cannot last forever though. Eddie heaves a great sigh, presses another kiss to your lips, and takes a step back. You feel all of the heat in your body evaporate like mist and resign yourself to party prepping, first reaching for your piercing to remove it as you make your decision. 

When you do meet his eyes at last, he whispers, "we'll talk about this later." 

Later comes at nearly 2 am after Steve and Robin usher the young ones home, and the only talking going on is your incessant invocation of Eddie's name as he takes you with all the reverence of a starving man finally being allowed to gorge himself on a decadent spread. 

Eddie divests himself of his clothes in a matter of seconds but with your clothes, he worships every part of you that is revealed to him. He lays you down and massages your legs, ignoring the needy tug of your hand tangled in his unruly curls. And when he finally pushes into you and seats himself to the hilt of your core, Eddie sighs and thinks that this is where he's always belonged. 

Just Quinn Fics | Main Masterlist

I just think Eddie is so neat I adore every version of him ❤ if you wouldn't mind, please reblog and/or leave a comment to let me know what you liked about this fic!

[absolutelyfizzing]

Sifu Hotman

zuko x water tribe sibling!reader

request - I want to request a Zuko x fem reader being Sokka and Katara's sister. She can be the older sister or sokka's twin sister. Also when they start dating Sokka and Katara can like threaten him by saying don't hurt my sister or else.

A/N - This is taking place after the war, I'm vaguely uncomfy writing for underage people (or like younger than 17) so I just went ahead and aged them up. I'm sorry if that's not what you were wanting! I'm also sort of ignoring the plot of the comics and stuff and we are ignoring Mai's existence. I don't feel like this was my best writing by any means but i tried and i thought it was a cute idea. There will probably be more zuko x reader coming soon

word count - 2000

MASTERLIST

You took a deep breath in, the warm air refreshing after having just spent the last month in the southern water tribe with your family besides Katara who was off saving lives with Aang. Your twin brother stood beside you, his hair grown out and tied into a ponytail. Your sister would be here in the fire nation in a week with Aang. It had been three years since the war, you had just been kids at the time. You and Sokka were 15 during the last battle and you had felt so old then. Now, looking back, you had been immature and childish but you had grown up. After the war ended you remained in the fire nation for a few months. You had wanted to get a little bit of quiet before you started going on more adventures with your brother.

You had been very close with Zuko while he was traveling with you and the gang. You didn't know why but you trusted him, maybe it was because you trusted Toph's judgement but either way you had accepted him quicker than the others. You remembered how cold the rest of the group had been to him and it almost was funny to you now considering that Katara had just told you a story in a recent letter about Toph, Aang, and Zuko getting into a bickering match about fire flakes that ended in Toph trapping both of the boys into a earth tent. It was also hard to comprehend that Zuko was the new Firelord and he ruled over a whole nation.

It had been 2 years since you saw Zuko in person. It wasn't on purpose but you kept getting pulled in different directions, none of them leading you into the fire nation. You were excited but also scared to see him, butterflies filling your stomach at the thought of seeing him. You'd had a bit of a crush on the new Firelord when you last saw him but you refused to tell either of your siblings, knowing that they would threaten him to high heaven before he even knew about it.

Your brother walking beside you calmed you a bit, his presence being comforting to you. He was much taller than you now and he was more confident than the kid he had been during the war. You knew that the same was true for Aang, though he never grew up in personality. As you approached the gates of the palace you wondered if Zuko had changed.

You realized that he had as the gates opened and he was stood on the steps up to the palace waiting for both of you. His hair was long and it was pulled into a messy bun. His scar was no longer shrouded in his bangs and he seemed more confident in his stance. His robes were long and elegant and you wondered if he wore them by choice of if they were required because of his position. Your brother jogged slightly to get to Zuko faster, having grown to hold a strong bond with the man. You walked calmly but there was a smile on your face as your brother and Zuko embraced. Once the released each other Zuko turned to you. You noticed him gulp a bit and a blush threatened to cover your cheeks. Your grin became wider the closer you got to him and soon you were wrapped in his embrace.

You noticed that his frame was larger. You leaned your head back from the hug to look at his face and he looked well. Like he was happy and maybe even getting enough sleep.

"Hey there, Sifu Hotman." You smiled and Zuko rolled his eyes as he released you from the hug.

"I see we haven't matured in 2 years?" He grunts but you can see the smile trying to creep onto his face. "Toph still calls me that too." He grumbled lowly and you started laughing.

"Where is the little demon?"

"She's away dealing with some prisoners for me. She should be back in a week or so." Zuko smiled. "She's taken up a pretty important role here. She's like my personal lie detector. She likes to sit in on council meetings and scare everyone."

"I think that's actually her dream job." You smiled and Zuko hummed in agreement. There was a bit of a silence as you and Zuko just gazed at each other. He seemed so sure now. You had missed him dearly.

"Okay! Let's get this show on the road, people!" Sokka yelled and you internally groaned that he had to ruin the moment. Before you all turned toward the palace, Zuko sent you a wink and you felt a blush cover your face. As you headed up the steps of the palace you felt a comforting hand on your lower back as the Fire Lord gently followed behind you, Sokka running ahead of you, likely to find the food in the kitchens that he was accostomed to spending all of his time in.

"Can I speak to you in private when we get a moment?" Zuko asks and again your heart rate picks up. You turn your head to look at him.

"Of course" You smiled and he smiles back at you, making your head spin a bit. You spent the next few hours meeting new advisors, getting a tour through new parts of the palace, and catching up with Zuko who seemed to be acting more clingy than you had ever remembered him to be.

"Y/N, would you mind coming with me?" Zuko asked and you turned to face him with a smile.

"Of course!" You chirped as he led you to a secluded hallway away from your brother who was discussing war strategy with an advisor of Zuko's.

When you reached a place where you were out of earshot of others Zuko gently took your hands.

"I have something to confess." He stated and you felt fire on your cheeks, you nodded for him to continue, "I'm in love with you. I have been for years and I've never acted on it because there was always something going on and I was so unsure but now-" he gazed into your eyes with sincerity, "I couldn't be more sure. I want to be with you. If you'd have me, that is." Instead of answering you jumped forward, pressing your lips onto Zuko's in a searing kiss. He groaned and pushed back, trapping you against a wall. He pulled away to press his forehead into yours and you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again and gazing at the man in front of you.

"Katara is gonna kill you." You mumbled and Zuko smiled.

"You aren't worried about Sokka?"

"I just know that Sokka can't win in a fight against you. Katara on the other hand..." you trailed off and Zuko looked offended.

"That's pretty rude to say to the man who just confessed his love for you."

"I'm just being honest. Toph might have some words too."

Zuko shuddered at the thought of what they could do to him. Sokka would be upset but he could probably handle it. Aang would be happy for both of them he was sure, always the peacemaker and moderator. Aang would probably be the only reason that Katara wouldn't attack Zuko immediately.

Over the next week you snuck around with Zuko, taking alone time any chance that you got. Sokka rarely let you get any peace as he stayed with you nearly constantly. He was always a little on the defence with you and he would likely settle in and ease up over the coming weeks as he got used to the new environment. You were never a huge fighter, though you could hold your own. You also couldn't bend. You were the one of the group who took care of everyone, you were the smartest in strategy by far, and you were the only one who could reason with Toph. Because of this, Sokka had gotten used to just being near you in case anything happened, though it was rare that anything did. You appreciated it normally but now you wanted time alone so that you could spend it with Zuko as you got used to being in a relationship that was more than platonic. But today was the day that the rest of the gang was arriving, even Suki would be joining you so you hoped that would take some of the clingy-ness of Sokka away. You all stood at the front of the palace, much like Zuko had stood for you a week earlier, and watched as Appa approached in the distance. He flew gently in front of you and as soon as he landed in front of you he licked you with his giant tongue and you were covered in slobber. Despite this you couldn't be happier to see the giant animal and you embraced him. You were suddenly pulled away and brought into the arms of your little sister.

"I missed you, Y/N." She mumbled into your neck and you smiled into hers, it had been so long since you had seen her and you felt tears come to your eyes at the relief of having her near.

You spent the next hours catching up with Katara and Aang, who had grown to be taller than you since you last saw him. Toph and Suki arrived that night and you were all glad to be together again at last, old memories coming back and filling you all with joy. You and Zuko looked at each other and you took a deep breath. You had discussed that you would be revealing your relationship to the rest of the group when you were all together but you were nervous for their reactions.

"So... I have something I would like to tell you guys." You stated and all of the conversation died down, all eyes suddenly on you. "Me and Zuko are together." You rushed out and you only got blank stares for a moment before there was groaning from Toph and Sokka.

"You couldn't have waited another year? I didn't think you would have figured it out by now." Toph grumbled and pulled some coins out of her pocket, Sokka doing the same. Suki and Katara held out their hands and money got dropped into them, both with smug looks on their faces. Zuko looked over at you and had the same look of shock that you likely did.

"What?" You mumbled.

"We all knew you were going to get together of course, you've been pining after each other for years, but me and Suki said you would be getting together this month and Toph said in a year. Sokka actually said in 3 months so he was closer than Toph was." Katara stated simply and you still just stared at her, mouth agape. "We also talked about the fact that if he hurts you," Her gaze shifted to a nervous looking Zuko, "we would all be committing some crimes."

"I feel like I should clarify that those crimes include maiming and murder." Sokka glared at Zuko and he gulped.

"But I'm so happy for you two!" Katara exclaimed, her attitude shifting completely. You and Zuko stared at each other in shock and then you smiled at him. You were so happy to finally be together and to have your friends around you.

[b-splendens]

Yulguk

대율제국, daeyul jeguk, the Great Empire of (the) Yul

Other names: Yulguk, Yulnara, Yul Country, Bando, the Peninsula

Capital: Meotunseong (name pending)

Government: constitutional monarchy

Geography: MOUNTAINS with some plains in the west + many coastal islands

Climate: like Korea’s

Rambly “Historical Context”:

(not proofread)

30 years after Saseom-ae (Shijimian) occupation invasions were repelled by a combination of Long, Yul restorationist, eastern Maljok, frontier warlord, and Bellian forces, Yulguk and the rest of the realm of Danyangju have only now been able to wearily emerge from the shadows of the Sandalwood Wars.

The Sandalwood Wars started as the logical conclusion of the empire-building done by Danyangju’s two eastern giants: the Samyukta and Long. The former vied to reestablish an old history of dominance in the southern Jo Danju region, which the latter had locked down through an extended tributary system. Initially fighting through proxy wars by supporting various usurper and incumbent powers, the conflict spiraled into open war. Hence started the Red Sandalwood War.

In the northern Baek Danju region, Imperial Shijima, whose clashes with the bloated Long Empire over influence on the Yul Kingdom and disruptive Shijimian settlers resulted in increasing economic isolation, sought an alliance with Samyukta and hence attacked the Yul and Long not long after war had started in the southern seas. Imperial Shijimian forces occupied the peninsula on the pretenses of restoring the clique of royal in-laws who the Long had ousted from power due to destabilizing peasant rebellions. The White Sandalwood War hence began, and with it, one of the longest, worst decades in Yul history since the Millennium War.

To be concise, fortunes began to turn as Yul resistance coalesced around the rightful heir to the throne, now known posthumously as King Geumjong. Supported by lower aristocrats and military leaders, he allied with northern frontier gangs and sought an alliance with Bellia, who hosted a formidable Yul diaspora that had grown during the regressive reign of the royal in-laws. Several Yul had been appointed to high offices and so heeded the plea—though not without concessions to be made in the future. As aforementioned, Geumjong’s coalition, fractured Long forces, and unsteady support from the inland Maljok turned the tides.

Shortly after the Sandalwood Wars concluded, a painful reconstruction and readjustment period began for the now-Great Empire of Yul—allowed to exist thanks to the destruction wrought upon the Yul’s former imperial master, the deposed Long. King Geumjong uneasily bowed to pressure from the Bellians, people, and lower aristocrats to form a constitutional monarchy.

Bellian advisory, military, and business forces now occupied the peninsula, brewing unease and imposing restraint on policy in the name of self-preservation and self-strengthening. Namely, the nebulous territories of the north were not administered as part of Yulguk. Many advisors and professionals across the realm formerly distributed to the Yul by the Long Empire were courted once again, this time to directly serve the king and prime minister. Not all improvements and changes were appreciated. When some of Geumjong’s former military allies rebelled against the Bellians and officeholders of the new republic, the rest of the army competently put the insurrection down, playing a part in Bellia’s ultimate physical withdrawal from the mountainous land.

What followed next was a decade of hardline, nationalist, paranoid, and heavy-handed policy openly supported by Geumjong. Prime ministers during this decade pursued a small war against the reconstituted Jaded Republic over the Long Empire’s former frontier territories, ending in expansion and the creation of two new northern provinces after diplomatic meetings deescalated the conflict. Xenophobia ran rampant, purging “foreign” officials and appointees from their posts. The dominant party also (il+)legally purged their opponents wherever they could and even stoked fear within their own ranks. Immigration restrictions intended to ensure that a devastated labor supply could not shrink any further, while funding was gutted for foreign study trips and diplomatic missions. The generally repressive atmosphere clashed with a steadily recovering, growing middle class that wanted universal suffrage.

The murder of Supreme Prosecutor Jak Noljin (name pending) by Gil Yong-gi and its investigation played a role in turning public opinion firmly against the conservative coalition. Jak’s younger brother, foreign envoy Jak Heungjin, was the liberal-aligned suspect that the investigation doggedly pursued, as the murder took place at his residence during the celebration of his son’s high examination scores. He also had lost a suit against Gil years earlier, who refused to restore Jak’s post after the latter returned from an extended spousal mourning period.

Yet, an overabundance of evidence pushed by liberal-aligned officials in the justice system later leaked to independent presses stoked public unrest, as opponents of the conservatives framed this incident as an attempt of judicial murder. Not to mention, it was also an example of the vicious climate brewing among the party itself, as people speculated that higher-ups could have ordered the elder Jak to be killed for going against party interests with his rumored investigation of Gil’s embezzling activities. Even Geumjong, who had long supported the party, publicly expressed that he would serve justice himself if he had to, preemptively vowing to pardon the surviving Jak before his execution.

Triumphantly, Gil was charged and executed instead, averting mass outcry.

The next decade was far more liberal, preceded by Geumjong’s stroke-induced death and the ascension of the current queen. In gratitude for awarding them a new majority, the liberal coalition enacted universal suffrage, regardless of income. The quality of life across the peninsula had by then mostly improved, although industrialization and urbanization ensured that turmoil continued. The most prominent feature of this decade was active foreign policy and economic pursuits, spawning the growth of a notable tourism industry. However, the increased circulation of people and goods also brings with it stress and disease, and an epidemic has recently only just begun to end. Ultra-nationalism once again lurks, ready to strike out against new cultural and social change while economic stratification entrenches itself as the new evil of Yul society.

It is at the tail end of this decade that the “present” story of Jakho unfolds. (think like the 1880s)