#the least surprising gender update since me coming out in the first place but still

[wonderful101gecs]

oh also made this change btw

[justsimpingforawhile]

Hello. I read your rules but I kinda hoped that you'll do a Cyran x gender neutral Merlin request? Since we got some lore drop on Cyran in media platforms like bilibili, can the plot be like somewhere in a non canon future where Cyran is just feeling broken or devasted that he still can't surpass Merlin.

And Merlin, instead of hating him like he expected, decided to just silently hug him and let Cyran release whatever emotional pain he's having.

Bonus points if it was romantic since, in a strange kind of way, it's like a one sided enemies to lovers. (Merlin never hated Cyran even when he got some memories of the Lyceum returned to them) 🤍

Hope you have a good day/afternoon/evening/night!

Goood morning/afternoon/evening/night!!! Once again, sorry for the delay in updating.

I wanted to let you know that I got a job (yeah, money!) and it has been keeping me very busy. Updates will be a bit slow, so be patient!

This was my first time writing with Cyran, I tried to get some information from the tales and from websites too.

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That was your first time visiting Cedartown, there was going to be a popular festival and you were excited to take some time off to enjoy the festivities. Chippy and Hammie were equally excited (maybe even more than you), and wanted to do everything and more while exploring the city. You made the most of it, arriving on the last day, where there would be a big ball. There was one person there in the crowd who caught his attention, and it definitely wasn't Yolena. He was a pale man, with black hair like his cloak, with a pattern that resembled snake skin. He was adorned in gold and precious stones, that's when you remembered he was the court magistrate, Cyran.

During the dance, the guests would switch partners, and at some point that other magician would also be with you. It didn't take long for him to have his eye on you and wait for the perfect moment to pull you into a dance. You spun slowly, following the rhythm of the dance, and then he said:

— You know, as a mage, I can feel it... Have something especial about you.

It was a little hard to tell if he was admiring or disdaining you. You had the feeling that you knew him, you knew him very well, and then a click came into your mind and then you remembered a detail: He was your classmate at the Magic Lyceum. You weren't close, you were just friendly with each other, at least in your eyes that was it, he didn't seem to like your presence very much.

— And what would that be? — You then held each other's waists and began to alternate steps.

— I can't explain it, but it's something about how you have so much talent for magic. It must be something divine, right?

— Er, no need to be so modest, you and I were in the same class and you were also very talented.

As soon as you finished speaking, Cyran tightened his grip on your waist and hand, it didn't hurt, but it was still a little uncomfortable. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, a graveborn crashed the party and as usual, you had to go out and investigate. Needless to say, that little event unfolded an intriguing and long story, which in a way shook you a little. When it was all over, you found yourself in the palace of the duchy of Whiteridge.

It was so empty now that its original owner had left, leaving behind dusty paintings and dirty furniture, it was sad to see that this place was so lifeless now that Cryonaia's spell has ended. Walking through the dark corridors, you see a half-open door that leads to the west balcony of the palace; what really surprised you was the sight of Cyran sitting on the floor, visibly dejected. Even though part of what happened was his fault, you could help but feel sorry for the state he was in.

— Stop snooping, I know you're there. — he say.

— Sorry, that wasn't my intention. — You enter the balcony, closing the door behind you.

— It's never your intention, is it?

— How come? — You walk over and sit down next to him.

— How can you be so cynical?

— Sorry, but I'm being honest, the cynic here is you.

— Yeah, I think you're right. But that doesn't change the fact that you're a sly person, always getting ahead of everyone and belittling your own value to stroke your ego.

— Where did you get the idea that I was like this?

— Don't give me that, the teachers looked up to you, everyone surrounded you and appreciated your magic while you said you weren't good enough, my goodness, you were amazing. — He moved a little closer to you. — And it hurt so much to see you have all that light, while all I had left were shadows. I felt like everyone in that damn lyceum hated me.

— I never hated you. — You rested your head on his shoulder. — I was upset that you were so cold to me when I was trying to be your friend. I never understood why you were like that, you were very talented, you knew things that I had difficulty understanding and you always remembered everything.

— That's true, you were always forgetting things. — A rare genuine smile appeared on Cyran's face.

— Cyran, why didn't you ever come talk to me about this?

— Looking at you hurt so much... I got so angry when I looked into your eyes and remembered all the comparisons I had to put up with when you were around. "They do it in seconds" or "Theirs is much better, you don't know how to do that Cyran" were just some of the things I had to put up with.

He stiffened in the position he was in when he noticed that you had turned forward just to hug him, resting your head on his chest. A somewhat too intimate contact that made Cyran's chest palpitate in confusion, his only reaction was to return the hug and pull them closer.

— I had no idea you felt this way, I'm sorry Cyran, they didn't recognize your true worth and in the end not even you could see it.

— I wish it was all water under the bridge, but... It still hurts, even if I try to ignore it. You being here makes me feel so angry, because despite everything you're still being kind to me.

— We don't need to be friends, nor be close, but at least have each other's company in times like these?

— Even after everything?

— Why not?

Cyran did not respond. Even after so many years, you managed to leave him with a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Bringing your face closer and placing your forehead against his, he murmured something that you didn't understand, but just by the gesture you could already imagine that it was a thank you. Maybe a little more, a little less, only time would tell if he would get out of this internal conflict regarding you.

[dreamkidddream]

Hiya~ Can I request quote 9) "Are you jealous?" for Lucifer in Obey Me! pretty please😊

This was so much fun to write! Luci know that he gets jealous but never wants to admit (his jealousy is worse than Mammon but you didn’t hear it from me 🤭) and sorry this got kinda long! Reader is gender neutral!

TW: suggestive/spicy themes, but nothing extremely graphic is mentioned

Prompt: “Are you jealous?” with Lucifer!

Lucifer is pissed.

He’s tapping his foot, and constantly checking his phone, waiting in his study for you to either walk in or call him. It’s late, and you’re still not home yet. He asked his brothers where exactly you are, and when Asmo told him that you’re out with the same “friend” you seem to blow all of them off for some time now, it just makes his mood turn even more sour, the scowl on his face deepening.

Now, Lucifer is not opposed to you making friends, as long as they aren’t a threat to you, his family, Lord Diavolo and the other exchange students. He understands that it’s very easy for you to connect with others, intentional or not, and he encourages it to a certain extent. However, this same “friend” that you’ve been increasingly been hanging out with for the past couple of weeks is starting to rub him the wrong way. Of course he’s met this “friend”, a classmate from your Seductive Speechcraft class (which just made him feel more unease with you being with them), and they seemed harmless enough (for a demon at least). Annoying, but harmless, at first.

Then began the constant need for your attention.

It started with the messages and calls under the guise of studying, the “innocent” demon begging you for help so that they can pass the class, and you being the naive nice human that you are of course obliged their request. Then it escalated from once a week, to three times a week, to almost staying after school every day just to “help”. He didn’t like that, as it’s him or his brothers that always walk you home every time, and this demon (who he found is Yuki, a demon who feeds off of sexual energy nonetheless), is messing with the routine, but he kept his cool and forced his brothers to do the same. He- They weren’t happy about this, but at the end of the day, you’re still coming home to him- them, and nothing is changing that. Not to mention how he made sure that someone had their eyes on you, whether it’s Mammon, Beel, or even himself (which he preferred).

Until Yuki decided that you need to hang out more, without him or his brothers.

That’s when he made it known of his dislike towards them, and dislike is putting it lightly.

You started to come home right at dinner, right before Beel devoured your plate. Mammon obviously voiced his displeasure aloud, with the others silently agreeing or making passing comments, but Lucifer would just shut the conversation down before anyone gets too upset, mainly for himself. He doesn’t want to lose control over something trivial like this, he can’t, he won’t- he’s well above some minuscule pest like them, and it would be a waste of time and energy to be worried about someone who is clearly below him!

He’s already irritated with Yuki integrating themselves into your everyday life, but he’s also trying to fight the increasing sinking feeling in his stomach the more you both bond.

The more you two become more than acquainted with one another, the more Lucifer tries to fight and hide this feeling. He buries himself in more paperwork, practically locks himself in his study, avoids anyone’s questions or concerns, and has become overall snappier than usual. He’s even snapped on Lord Diavolo, Lord Diavolo of all people!

(Granted Diavolo just thought it was overall stress, so he just simply laughed it off, but it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone, including you).

Now Lucifer is not stupid, he’s a very intelligent and powerful demon, and he doesn’t have to say it to be known. He made sure to do some research himself on Yuki, and didn’t put anything past them. You’re still surrounded by demons who wouldn’t hesitate to swallow you whole if allowed, and some are still desperate enough to try anything, so he’s very cautious with others being around you.

Which leads to now, you being out again with that demon at The Fall. Ever since, Lucifer retired to his study, constantly checking his phone for any updates. He refused to look distressed in front of everyone, and he knows that you’re smart and not so gullible, you’ll be okay, you had to be.

It’s well going on 1 in the morning, and you still haven’t answered any of his calls and texts? You swore that you would always answer him, so something had to happen. What exactly were you doing? What exactly were you two doing? We’re you okay? Are you safe? Has that Yuki tried anything with you?

Were you two doing anything now?

All of these questions swirling around in his head, his worry only adding on to his frustrations and building tension going through his body.

He already marched down to the door, coat forgotten and tie undone, flinging it open and scowl so deep that his fangs were bared. That Yuki better hope that you come home in one piece and spotless, or else he will make sure that they regret being alive-

He couldn’t wipe the surprised look on his face when he made eye contact with you, who was matching his own expression, hand frozen in the air mid knock.

“Lucifer? What are you still doing up? Are you about to go somewhere?” His expression quickly morphed to one of high distaste, the irritation displaying clearly on his face and his grip tightening on the door.

“I was still awake waiting for you. Have you forgotten how to use a phone, or are you too good for one now that you’re with your ‘friend’. And I remember specifically telling you to let me know when you leave, did I not?”

“Oh. Well...my phone kinda died, but I was already on the way home and-”

“By yourself?! Do you know how irresponsible that is? Do you forget that you’re a mere human?”

His irritation is rising to pure anger at this revelation. So that demon didn’t even have the decency to walk you home? To make sure that you arrive safe? And yet you still have the nerve to spend time with them and practically ignore him?!-

“Well- um, Lucifer? Lucifer!”

He snapped out of his murderous thoughts, and stepped aside to let you in.

“Come inside now, it’s late, and we have much to discuss.”

Your face scrunched up, showing confusion in how he’s acting. You know that’s he mad about your phone being dead, but he’s mad enough to leave the door barely hanging on its hinges? But you knew that arguing or pointing it out would just make things escalate, so you just stepped past and began to make your way up the stairs.

You can feel his eyes bore into the back of your head, but you just didn’t understand why. It’s about more than just your phone, it seemed like he’s been on edge for awhile now. You want to approach him, to ask him what’s wrong, to have him open up, but of course Lucifer being Lucifer, it was to no avail.

You racked your brain as he lead you to his room and began the “conversation” about how irresponsible you were being (really it’s just him getting whatever he needed off his chest and not you giving any input). Was it because of you going out so late? No, you didn’t drink, you and Yuki stayed together the whole night, and you let him know hours before. Was it Yuki? Now that you’re think about it, he has been frowning more it seemed like every time you brought up their name-

The pieces are starting to fit together now.

Oh my Diavolo.

You couldn’t stop the words escaping from your mouth before you could realize it.

“Lucifer, are you jealous?”

He choked in the middle of his sentence, and the room went quiet. You’re pretty sure that you can’t even hear him breathing, and his face just went entirely blank, no expression whatsoever.

Oh no, you broke him-

A gust of wind erupted, so strong that you had to shield your eyes for a second, and when you removed your arm, you were met with massive black wings and a very enraged demon.

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back until you stumbled onto the bed, as he stalks closer and closer to you.

“Care to repeat yourself?”

You knew better than to respond, and you felt frozen on the bed. You also know that Lucifer won’t attack or try to kill you, but it didn’t take away from the fact that he has moments where he’s very intimidating, one of those moments being now.

He’s looking down at you like a predator would to its captured prey, his ruby eyes glowing deviously in the dim room. He didn’t stop moving until he was on top of you, caging you in.

“Me? Jealous?” He scoffed. “I am the Avatar of Pride, the most powerful being in this house, yet you assume that I’m jealous of a demon that’s beneath me? You insult me, MC.”

He took hold of your chin, “Do you not remember what I said when we made the pact? You are mine and mine alone. Not anyone else’s, but mine.”

You felt like your nerves were getting the best of you, but you couldn’t force yourself to tear away as he leaned closer. He sealed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, one that you gladly accepted, not before uttering the words that made your heart race even faster.

“Maybe I should remind you of who you belong to, hm?”

—-

“Had a fun night, MC?”

“Yeah, it was”, you coughed in your hand. “Very nice, very fun. We had a great time.”

“Hmmmmm...you and Yuki or you and Lucifer?”

“Asmo!”

He giggled, “I’m just saying dear. I don’t sense the pent-up sexual frustration from Lucifer anymore, and he seems back to normal and even relaxed. Though I must say MC, I wish that you had spent the night in my bed instead.”

“Of course you do Asmo.”

“Besides, I would have covered your hickeys much better-”

“ASMO-”

“MC, are you ready?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear has never been more true than now, as Lucifer appeared behind you both, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry.”

“Eh? Where are you two going?”

“Out.”

“And without me?!”

“Yes. Now, leave us be”. Lucifer moved his hand from your shoulder to your own hand, leading you both out the door. You two had plans for the day after the...eye-opening talk from last night, and he didn’t want to waste anymore time than he already had.

Bonus:

Asmo waited until he heard the door click, and then quickly whipped out his D.D.D. to text Yuki. He knew that the plan was going to be a success! A tense Lucifer made things more difficult for everyone, and he has too much pride to open his mouth so he decided to step in and team up with Yuki, who already knew about the whole ordeal.

Lucifer was already on the edge of snapping and letting his primal instincts take over anyway, so Asmo just gave him a little push in the right direction.

Thank Diavolo the plan worked, or else it would be hell for them both. He did owe Yuki some exposure on his socials in exchange for this and backing off of you now, but it was well worth the trouble.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

a kiss from the moon | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.

warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers

yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos

--

“I love you!”

You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?

You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”

You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.

“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”

“Get down here!”

You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.

“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.

Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.

“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.

Awesome.

You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.

Good for them.

You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.

“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.

He was staring at you with his mouth open.

Charming.

He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.

“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.

Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”

“He speaks! He’s not dead.”

“A… Ah… Um…”

You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”

His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.

“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”

“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”

“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”

“Um.”

You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.

Fun!

“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”

He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.

“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”

“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.

Then the realization hit you.

“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”

Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”

You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.

Mhm.

“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”

“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”

“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”

“Noona, I…”

You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.

“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”

“Y… Yeah, okay…”

-

Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.

Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.

He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.

And he didn’t.

He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.

And he didn’t.

He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”

And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”

The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.

He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.

But, of course, the problem was…

He had already said it in a platonic way.

Shit.

He really fucked himself throughout the years.

Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.

I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.

He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.

His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.

-

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.

“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.

“You think he’s gonna tell her?”

“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”

“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”

“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”

Taehyung snorted.

Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.

“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”

-

Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.

He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.

I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.

“Jungkook?”

-

You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.

“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”

“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.

You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”

You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.

“Have you ever been in love, noona?”

“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.

“I love you, you know.”

Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.

“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.

“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”

Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”

You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”

“I don’t have love for you.”

You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.

“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.

The cicadas hummed.

A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.

Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.

“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.

“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.

-

“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”

“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”

“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”

“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”

-

“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.

“Uh… well, that was it…”

You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”

“Y… Yeah?”

You blinked some more.

“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”

Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”

You leaned over and caught his eye.

“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”

His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.

A delicate kiss from the moon itself.

Then you realized he was staring at your tits.

You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”

“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.

His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”

“So…?”

He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”

You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”

He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.

“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”

“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“I’d date you though. For real.”

Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”

You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”

You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.

“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”

“… What?”

Now it was a confused what.

“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”

You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”

“It’s the truth.”

Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?

“Would you really date me?”

You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.

“Yes, I would.”

And you leaned forward and kissed him.

His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.

Because you were with Jungkook.

You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.

He blinked slowly, looking down at you.

“Noona…”

His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.

“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”

Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.

“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”

-

“I’m so sleepy.”

“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”

“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”

“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”

--

masterpost

[fics-n-stuff]

Home

Pairing: Kaz Brekker × Reader

Summary: Y/N and Kaz were once childhood friends, later reunited in the Barrel. After a business dealing went awry, Y/N has been in hiding for almost a year and the time apart has brought up a lot of feelings for Kaz.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: touch aversion, alcohol consumption

A/N: I haven't actually read SoC yet but I have done my research so I really hope I wrote Kaz accurately enough 🤞🏽 Let me know!! I left the reader gender neutral so all parties can enjoy 😁

Update: Pt 2 here!

You stared out of the window, watching the nightlife of the Barrel in full swing below you. It had been almost a year since you had been able to be a part of it all and, even though you had lived in Ketterdam all your life, you felt like an outsider now.

There was a knock on the door and you froze, head tilting to listen out for any threat. After a moment there was another knock, loud and heavy – certainly not the result of somebody’s knuckle hitting the wood. With a sigh, you stood up from the window ledge and crossed the room to the door.

Kaz was waiting on the other side, looking unamused as ever, and you waved him inside quickly and hurriedly shut the door behind him.

“I am one of three people that knock on your door, Y/N.” He said flatly, removing his hat and placing it atop your desk.

“I can’t be too careful, never know when someone might come sniffing around here.” You replied with a shrug. Kaz hummed shortly in acknowledgment before producing a small stack of envelopes from his coat. You snatched them from him eagerly, but careful to ensure that your fingers made no contact with his gloved ones.

“I’m getting tired of being your courier.”

“Well, I’m getting tired of being in hiding.” You huffed, leafing through your letters. “But I’d rather not walk around in a city where I’m actively being hunted.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten caught then.” Your head snapped towards Kaz at that, and you raised your eyebrows challengingly.

“I should slap you for that.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Kaz’s face remained largely unchanged but you could see the shine of amusement in his eyes.

You had first met Kaz as a child, while visiting family in the village where his family lived. He was a sweet child, and you had struck up a fast friendship in the few months you spent there. You had even written letters back and forth for a couple of years until one time you never got a reply.

When you met again years later, entirely by chance, Kaz was a changed person. Your family’s fortune had taken a steep downturn and you found yourself alone, living in a tiny room in a boarding house in the Barrel, when Kaz came across you pickpocketing outside the Crow Club. He had recognised you, but you hadn’t recognised him at first. Everything about him was so departed from the sweet boy that you had known as a child.

He refused to tell you what had happened to change him in this way. He never gave you a cause for the ruthless person he had become to climb the ranks of the Dregs and earn the name Dirtyhands, never even told you what had brought him to Ketterdam at all other than that his father had died. He never pushed you away though. Kept you at arms length, yes, but he never tried to dissuade you from sticking around.

The longer you knew him the more you realised that he wasn’t as cold as his demeanour portrayed. He was fiercely loyal, you could see it in the way that he was with his Crows, and you were certain that he would do anything to protect those he cared about most. You admired that about him.

“You don’t have to come, you know. You could send Inej with my letters, she already delivers me food.” You said, turning away at the realisation that you had been looking at each other in silence for a few seconds too long. You went to sit down, picking up the envelope from the top of the pile and pulling up the wax seal. Kaz didn’t respond for a long while. You tried to read your letter but found yourself distracted with anticipation of what he would say, if he said anything at all.

“I commend your commitment to your business.” He said finally, and you smiled at the compliment. “Eleven months trapped in this apartment and you’re still keeping up with it all.”

“Being in hiding is no excuse to get lazy. If anything, it gives me more of a reason to keep on top of things. Work keeps me sane and keeps coin in my pocket.”

“And how long do you intend to keep conducting your business through letters and underlings?”

“For as long as I have to, Kaz. You know that.” You answered with a quiet sigh, setting down the letter that you definitely hadn’t been reading and turning your head to face him again. You saw his jaw tense and the grip on his cane tighten, but you didn’t know what it meant. You were worried that somehow you had done or said something to upset him.

You had learned, in the few years since your reunion, that sometimes even the most seemingly innocuous things could put Kaz in a black mood. You had caught on quickly to the way that he avoided touch at all costs, and adapted your behaviour accordingly. He had still never told you why being touched triggered such a strong reaction in him, but he knew that you would always respect that fact.

It didn’t matter to you what traumas Kaz had suffered to create these traits in him, only that you knew how to navigate being in his space without violating his boundaries, because deep down you knew that Kaz was the most important person in your life. He took you in and offered you support when you needed it, given you structure and taught you skills to survive without even necessitating that you use those skills to serve his gang, all because of the friendship that you had shared as children. It didn’t matter how heartless people said the Bastard of the Barrel was, you knew that Kaz cared; perhaps not in the same way that you had come to care for him, but he did care.

“Maybe you should go, I’m sure you have work of your own to do.” You mumbled, your eyes drifting downwards anxiously. “And anyway, I have letters to read.”

“I could protect you.” He blurted. His voice was a little louder than usual, his tone less flat, and your brow furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “We could. The Crows, and the Dregs.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

“But you’d have it.”

You turned fully in your chair, straddling it with one leg either side of the backrest, and leant your forearms on the top of it. There was something in Kaz’s eyes that you’d never seen before and, although you prided yourself on being able to tell how Kaz was feeling and what he might be thinking about, you couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Do you know something that I don’t?” You questioned.

“Of course not.”

“Do you suddenly not trust my ability to keep myself safe?”

“Nothing like that, Y/N.”

“Then what?” You rested your chin on your arms, looking up at him expectantly. He held your gaze, but you could see the cogs turning in his brain as he calculated his next sentence. You were preparing for an argument to start, so you certainly didn’t expect the words that came from him next.

“I’m concerned about how long you’ve been alone here.” He answered. You blinked.

“Concerned?” Your voice cracked a little with your surprise, and Kaz clenched his jaw as he averted his eyes from you.

“I just thought that maybe all this time on your own might have had some affect on you. And I... hold a certain sense of responsibility.” His voice never wavered or faltered, other than the one pause there was no suggestion in his speech that the words held any significance to him, but you could see the tension in his shoulders and the tight grip that he maintained on his cane.

You narrowed your eyes, taking a moment to examine his face and his demeanour. Everything about him was wound tight, like he was making a particularly tricky deal rather than talking to a friend – you hoped that he considered you a friend – and though he was looking in your general direction you noted his avoidance of eye contact.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were saying that you miss me, Mr Brekker.” You said, your mouth turning in a small smirk. You saw Kaz’s chest tighten as he silently took in a sharp breath, and you chuckled lightly. “I’m fine, Kaz. Inej visits often enough, and I’m happy to see you when you deliver my letters. I will say though, I miss drinking with your Crows.”

Truthfully, you did feel rather trapped in your tiny apartment. For almost a whole year your entire world had consisted of only three rooms, and even if you didn’t admit it you were going slightly mad. Not being able to leave was frustrating, and living your whole life in one room (because really, who spends that much of their day in the bathroom or kitchen?) made you feel like a caged animal.

He didn’t reply. He also didn’t move. You watched him, standing straight and stiff as ever in the middle of the room, for a few moments. Usually he would have said something or made a move to leave, so you knew that he was deep in thought about something. You slouched further down against the backrest of your chair.

“If you’re planning on sticking around then you should at least sit down.” You sighed. “I have some kvas, or whisky if you’d prefer.” Kaz shook his head no to the drink but made a move towards the window seat. You watched him cross the room and sit down, his grip remaining on his cane as he placed it between his knees. “What’s on your mind, Kaz?”

“It’s not important.”

“That can’t be true.”

“And why is that?” He questioned dully.

“Because you’re still here, with me, staring into space like you’re waiting for the wind to tell you a secret.” He looked at you then, and you could see a conflict swirling behind his eyes. You resisted the urge to furrow your brow in worry. He still didn’t say anything, and that didn’t do anything to ease your concern because Kaz Brekker was not often one to be at a loss for words. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” He murmured, his head nodding slightly.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You asked softly. He looked into your eyes for a few seconds before turning his head away, clearly deciding not to answer. You were almost expecting him to get up and leave the apartment right then, remove himself from the uncomfortable situation like he had been known to do before, but he made no move to stand.

You stood instead, abruptly moving through to the tiny kitchen and pouring a glass of whisky for yourself. You took a long sip as you came back out into the living space, picking up a wooden staff on your way. You kept up your combat training while in hiding, though it wasn’t often that you got an opponent.

“Humour me, will you?” You smiled, spinning the staff in your hand and setting your drink down.

“There’s not much space in here.” Kaz commented.

“Then we’ll be careful. Get up and fight me, coward.” You goaded. He gave you an incredulous look but stood anyway, tossing his cane up and grabbing it at it’s middle as he came towards you. Your grin broadened, and you waited just until the was in your range before you swung at him.

Your staff collided with his cane, moved up just in time to block your attack, and he watched you with challenging amusement. You let him make the next attack, knocking his cane away when he swung it towards you.

You exchanged blows, each of you managing to block all of the other’s attacks but you were starting to corner him. It seemed like you were about to get the upper hand when he swiped his cane towards your middle, making you jump back, and before you could move to swing on him he had pushed the crow’s head handle into your chest, not so hard that it was painful but with enough force to knock you backwards.

You landed on the edge of your bed with a groan, letting the staff drop from your hand in defeat.

“No fair, your cane is basically an extension of your arm.” You grumbled. Kaz let out a short breath, the closest thing to a laugh that anyone could get from him.

“You picked the fight.” He shrugged, lowering his cane and righting it at his hip. “I could have told you that you wouldn’t win it.”

“Mean!” You exclaimed in exaggerated offense, sitting up. When you looked at Kaz his expression was soft, the worry behind his eyes seemingly eased, and you smiled. “I could beat you if it was hand to hand.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He replied, the almost compliment catching you by surprise once again.

It had been a while since you and Kaz had spent any significant amount of time together. He was a busy man, particularly so over the last few months it seemed, so other than his brief drop-ins to deliver your letters you hadn’t seen him. It was nice to have his company again, even if he was a little off.

“Do you remember those drawings of Ketterdam that I used to send you with my letters?” You questioned softly, tucking your knees up to your chest. “I used to walk around the city looking for spots to sketch. I’d spend hours sitting on the street with my pencils trying to get the picture perfect to show you what it was like. I think, now, you probably know the city better than I do.” You smiled wistfully, resting your head on your knees as you looked up at Kaz. You saw his Adam’s apple bob with a swallow.

“You miss it, don’t you?” He asked.

“Of course.”

“You could go out there, stop hiding. You know I would look out for you.”

“I can’t put that burden on you, Kaz.” You chuckled lightly. “Enough people want you dead already, you don’t need to be looking after me while I’m being actively hunted.”

“How long do you plan on staying locked in here then?”

“As long as it takes, we went through this earlier. I have a big deal coming up, with the money from that I’d be able to smooth over some edges and maybe I could come out of hiding in a few months.” You theorised. “I’d still have to watch over my shoulder all the time but it would be an improvement.” Kaz’s jaw tightened again, and he bristled with agitation.

You hugged your knees tighter, doubt and worry overcoming you. Was Kaz not okay with coming to see you here anymore? Was he trying to get you out of hiding to lighten the burden it had put on him, getting your letters delivered to the Crow Club and having to bring them to you? The thought of not being able to rely on his short visits was enough to fill your chest with a mixture of dread and guilt.

“Like I said before, you don’t have to keep coming if that’s the problem.” You added, hiding the dejection in your voice. “Inej can-"

“No.” He interrupted bluntly. You blinked, pressing your lips together in contemplation. Was he upset that Inej was bringing supplies for you? Or worse, had something happened to her? Was that what was bothering him so much tonight?

“Why not?”

“Because I-" He cut himself off. He took a step back as if regaining his balance, his gaze falling to the floor, and you watched him flex his fingers around his cane as he organised his words. “Do you remember how you got sick while you were visiting your family?”

“Kaz.” You murmured tentatively, craning your neck to try and get a better look at his face that was turned away from you. Kaz didn’t like to talk about the past. Even bringing up the letters that you sent each other had been pushing it, but for him to choose to talk about your childhood was something he had never done before. Still now, it looked like the mention of the past was making him nauseous as he moved to sit down in the window once again. Your curiosity was growing by the second.

“You got sick and you could hardly get out of bed for almost a fortnight.” He continued, dismissing your concern. “I went to visit you every day. I picked flowers for you to make you feel better, and your mother baked oatmeal cookies but I refused to have any unless you did because you weren’t eating enough.”

“I remember.” You nodded. “You never let my glass of water get empty. It was sweet. But why does it matter now?”

“I can’t... I can’t stop worrying about you. But unlike when we were kids, I can’t just walk up the street and check on you every day.”

You felt as if all the air had been knocked out of your lungs and for a second you genuinely wondered if you had made that up in your head. Kaz very rarely expressed any emotion – the mask he wore hardly ever slipped – but here he was telling you that he worried about you. For Kaz, that was practically him baring his soul for you to see.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” You said shakily. “I’ve been fine so far, haven’t I?”

“But what if you’re not fine for much longer? As long as you’re holed up here I can’t keep you safe, and I can’t come to check on you because if I come here too often people might notice. Honestly, it’s a miracle that they haven’t already.”

“I didn’t think you believed in miracles.” You mumbled. Kaz glanced up at you, and the vulnerability on his face was unlike anything you’d seen before. It struck you in the heart and made you feel a need to comfort him, to put him at ease. “I can take care of myself, Kaz. I promise."

He was silent for a moment, his gaze downcast once again, then he took a deep breath and spoke.

“I think I’ll take that drink now.”

You watched him for just a second before you got up, crossing over to your desk and picking up the glass of whiskey that you had left there. The glass was half full since you had admittedly poured a little too generously.

You held it out to Kaz, who reached for it without looking. Although you were careful to hold the glass at the very top, his gloved fingers still brushed slightly over yours as he took a hold of it. He immediately stiffened, and you were quick to pull your hand away, taking a step back to give him space. He downed the drink in one, his face scrunching just slightly at the burn it left in his throat as he set the glass down by his feet.

“I just want to be able to watch over you.” He said, his voice barely more than a whisper, and you could practically see how difficult it was for him to verbalise his feelings.

“I think... I understand what you mean, Kaz. But I’m safer staying here than being out there, even with the Dregs protecting me. You have to know that, right?”

Kaz pushed a peice of hair out of his face, his gloved hand smoothing over his head as he let out a long and quiet sigh. Finally, he looked up at you.

“I know.” He answered.

“I appreciate your concern though.” You smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t think you cared about me that much. Or, well, I knew you cared but I just didn’t think... nevermind.”

“You didn’t think what?” Kaz’s question made you pause, anxiety pooling in your chest as you contemplated coming clean about your feelings. You thought about lying, about keeping your secrets to yourself, but Kaz had been so sincere it only felt right to return his honesty. With a deep breath, you worked up the courage to finally tell him the truth.

“I didn’t think that you cared as much as I do.” You replied. The sentence hung in the air for a moment as you moved back to sit in your desk chair, heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve kind of found myself caring a lot, actually. I think it’s only fair, really. I mean, I kind of owe you my life and all so it makes sense that I care. That’s not to say that it’s sensible but it is at least understandable, I guess.”

You bit your lip to stop your rambling, dropping your head so that you didn’t have to look at Kaz. There was a long stretch of silence.

“I care more than I might show.” He spoke softly, much more softly than you think you’d ever heard his voice. When you looked up Kaz was gazing right back at you, your eyes locking and his stare going deep into your soul. He didn’t need to say more, that simple sentence and the look in his eyes were enough to tell you what he was confessing. A smile pulled at your lips.

“Be careful what you admit, Brekker, or I might think that you’re going soft.” You joked, and he shook his head lightly in amusement. You leaned forward with your elbows on your knees, letting go of the anxiety that had been coursing through you.

“I'm serious, Y/N."

“I know. You don’t make a habit of saying things that you don’t mean.” You nodded. You glanced up at the clock on your wall with a sigh. “You really should get going, it’s dangerous for us both for you to stay too long.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” He muttered.

He stood after a moment, his hand flexing over the crow’s head handle of his cane. You reached back to pick his hat up from the desk, and he held a hand out for it, but instead of passing it to him you placed atop your own head. It was too big, and you had to push it back on your head so it didn’t slide over your face.

“You know, I rather like you without the hat.” You smiled.

“Is that so?”

“Yep. I can see your face better this way so I can tell when your emotions manage to break through.” Kaz’s lips quirked upwards a little as he took the hat from your head and put it on his own. You jutted your lip out in an exaggerated pout and he let out a huff that seemed suspiciously close to a laugh.

“Do you have any letters you need me to send out?”

“No, not this time.”

“Alright, then I’ll be on my way.” He gave a quick nod and turned towards the door. He had only taken a couple of steps when you twisted in your chair and called after him .

“Kaz.” He stopped and turned back to you. “I’m doing what I can to get out of this apartment, I promise.”

“That’s not something that you owe me, Y/N. It’s your freedom and your safety. But I await the day that you come waltzing into the Crow Club ready to make Jesper lose all the coin in his pocket.” He replied lightly, making you smile. “And if you need anything then I’m here, all you have to do is ask.”

“Thank you, not just for this but for everything. Everything that you’ve given me since that night outside the Crow Club. I might be dead if it weren’t for you.” You let sentiment out freely, finally feeling able to show your heart to Kaz now that you knew that your affections weren’t one sided. His expression softened, and he seemed to contemplate something deeply, before he took a single step back towards you and held out one gloved hand.

You hesitated, unsure if he was initiating what you were thinking, but he maintained eye contact. He gave a small nod, a mix of permission and encouragement, and you tentatively reached for his outstretched hand.

Kaz took in a deep breath when your hand made contact with his, and you watched him carefully ready to pull your hand away. After a moment he released the breath, wrapping his fingers lightly around yours and running his thumb over your knuckles.

“You’re the closest thing to home that I have.” He croaked. “I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t.” You affirmed. Kaz released your hand, and you found yourself missing the feeling of the leather glove. He took a small step back, trying to hide the shake in his breathing.

“I’ll come back soon, as soon as it’s safe to.”

“Okay.” You smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

Kaz left the apartment without another word between you, he paused before closing the door after himself just to look at you for a moment longer. You watched out of the window to see him leave the building and start off through the street, a broad smile on your face.

[quillsanddaydreams]

duty calls

hermione granger x reader

—author's note: This was requested by a lovely anon, I hope you like it love. It made me remember just how much I appreciate little things. So a fluffy story about a lazy day in bed which turns serious when Hermione shares some news.

—warning(s): mentions of food, nightmares and anxiety. gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren't used).

—word count: 1,053

You heaved a sigh, moving your limbs into a more comfortable position. Turning your head towards the right side of the bed, you noticed Hermione was still asleep. Brown curls messily framed her face. If she was awake, she would keep pushing them away in vain. It was only seldom you could find her as peaceful. Before you could stop yourself, you moved closer to her kissing her nose. It scrunched up, her eyes opening up in delight. Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer. Humming, she rested her face in the crook of your neck. You smiled.

“You know, I can never get used to this,” you said, your voice having a raspiness that comes after a good night’s sleep. “Waking up next to my gorgeous girlfriend.”

Hermione responded with a kiss to the collarbones. She groaned.

“Can’t we spend the whole day like this?” she said as pulled back, tugging a rather rampant curl behind her ear.

“Hey now, remember what we said about frowning?” you said as Hermione let out a giggle.

“That I don’t want me to die soon just because I wore a sore expression most of the time,” she beamed up at you. Cradling your face, she tugged you closer leaving a peck on your lips.

“Come on, I can make some blueberry pancakes,” you suggested as Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

Getting up lazily, you made your way over to the bathroom. Brushing your teeth and washing your face, you moved towards the small kitchen. Hermione joined you moments later, helping you do your apron. She hated cooking, even more so after she came back from her mission with Harry. Sitting up on the countertop, she watched you combine milk, sugar, and flour together. It was like a bubble. A beautiful bubble you two had created together, the one you didn’t want to escape. Like an unsaid promise, you and Hermione had found your own rhythm.

War had changed people. Even if it was calm, it was a strange one. Hermione still had nightmares just like Harry and Ron. She would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, clutching your hand for support. You wouldn’t go to bed after, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the scare out of her head. Getting up and putting on your favorite show, you would watch them with her, laughing and crying until sleep consumed you. Some scars never truly heal. Moments like these reminded you how you could still find happiness amongst your struggles.

Hermione was telling something about her workplace as reality grabbed your attention back.

“Huh?” you asked, disoriented. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about something.”

Hermione gave you a kind smile.

“Harry came by yesterday,” she started. “He doesn’t want to be an Auror anymore.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Yes, he wants to teach.”

“Didn’t expect that,” you said, surprised. But then again, the DA club was the place where you learned the most.

You poured the batter into the pan, waiting for it to turn golden. Hermione grabbed some plates and glasses for juice. Finishing plating, you moved toward the small round table, digging in. It was mostly silent, except the wind chimes clinking at the window.

“You know,” Hermione started, biting her lip nervously. “Since Harry dropped out, someone would have to take his mission.”

Chewing the pancake slowly, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Okay?”

“And the ministry suggested that since I was the one who tracked do—”

“No,” you said pointedly before she could finish. “Don’t take that mission, Hermione, it's dangerous. Everyone advised Harry to give it up and for valid reasons might I add.”

“But it’s important information, if not me then who?”

“Anyone but you. Hermione please it was torturous enough when you left for the first time.”

Hermione put her hand over yours, squeezing.

“I know, but I came back safely didn’t I?”

“You and I have very different definitions of safe,” you shook your head, gulping and pulling your hand away. Hermione’s face fell further. “I am proud of you Hermione, I really am and I know you can handle yourself. But this? Walking into a death trap? How could you ask me to agree to this?”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth. You looked over at her, realization dropping in on you.

“You already agreed to it, didn’t you?” you inquired as she gave the smallest of nods.

It felt like the air was closing in on you. You blinked away tears. Pushing away your plate, you got up stalking towards the bedroom. Ignoring her pleas, you shut the door behind you. You needed some time to get yourself together. Sitting down on the bed, you looked at the palm of your hands. There was a knock at the door. Hermione came in after a few minutes of no response.

“Hey,” she whispered, kneeling down in front of you. You looked away. “I know it’s dangerous and that’s why we’ll have all kinds of backup. We’ll make sure we are as safe as possible.”

“And I’ll be back in a blink I promise. You won’t even know I was somewhere other than the ministry of magic.”

“Come on, at least look at me.”

“I know you’re not that angry at me, just sad about the situation. Stop acting like that,” she said as you tried your best not to let your expressions waver.

“Hey.”

You heard her take a deep breath.

“You want to play pretend? Well, two can play that game,” she said before holding your face so you could see her. “And right now, all I want is to kiss my lovely partner in crime assuming we just got up from eating a lovely breakfast and are happy about everything.”

Her lips found your forehead, moving down to your nose. A peck on the cheek and a hushed ‘I love you’ followed and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch.

“I love you so much, Hermione,” you said softly. Pressing her mouth against yours, she kissed you slowly making you melt. When you pulled back, it felt like you were in a daze. “I’m just so scared, you know?”

You looked up at her as she rested her forehead along with yours.

“I know,” she said. There was nothing quite simpler.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill ​ which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

[savagesbonergarage]

ok, i need SMUTTY thrawn. like anything you wanna write

Don't we all 😏

I’m weirdly a little upset with Thrawn right now for ridiculous headspace reasons, so this is gonna be interesting. I think I have a good idea, though...We’ll see how this turns out lol

Update: Wow this has a lot of feelings??? Apparently I needed to get that out of my system *shrug*

A/N - Tried to write this for a gender-neutral reader so let me know how that works 🤐, longer than I expected but what else is new, yeah feelings like I said, but it turns into you domming Thrawn so I think it’s worth it, face-riding, cumming in pants, role-play? kinda?, the smut’s at the end

Thrawn

“Neglect”

“What is this?” you asked with a knowing curiosity and no small amount of irritation in your voice.  

You held the painted helmet in your hands, Thrawn’s gaze never leaving it until he eventually answered you through a defeated sigh. “It belonged to one of the rebel captives I’ve been tracking. The boy Jedi.”

“I see...” you retorted unflinchingly, inspecting the crude loth-cat design on the front of it through hardened, yet undeniably sad eyes. “So this is what you’ve been up to this entire time? Spending your vacation working instead of...” 

Instead of being with me, like you’d promised.

The chiss finally rose from his seat, although he still couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes. He was fully aware of the situation he’d created, of the promises he’d made and failed to keep, and most importantly the lies he’d told in order to continue tracking this particular band of rebels. “I...I apologize for disappointing you.”

You uttered a scoff, nearly rolling your eyes at his words. After finally catching him in the act when he’d sworn he was too tired to stay up with you and was heading straight to bed all these nights, it was difficult not to take this revelation a little personally. Not to mention his superiors had specifically instructed him to use this shore leave to actually relax and enjoy himself after his continuous dedication to the Empire and his duties without fail or complaint - and when he’d arrived with more luggage than usual, you interpreted that to mean that he was intending to stay the entire length of his trip this time with no intention of returning to work early as he typically did - however, that extra baggage was ultimately filled with rebel artifacts that he was fully preparing to study. 

“I’m not disappointed, nor am I surprised,” you admitted through a sigh, moving to stand straight across from him with only the width of the helmet between you as you continued, “I don’t know why I was expecting this time to be different from any of the others. I know you. When you’re dedicated to pursuing something, there’s no stopping you or trying to change your mind.”

His lips parted as though he had something to say, but ultimately decided against it. He must have seen through your facade of trying to keep your expression firm as he gently spoke your name, and you silently cursed yourself for never being able to keep a straight face. You caught his hand when he moved to bring it to your cheek, only holding it firmly in mid air as you kept your head down while you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years.

“Are you still pursuing me?”

You clutched his hand even tighter, your frown already shifting into a grimace as you stared straight down into the visor of the helmet. This talk wasn’t one you’d been particularly looking forward to having, especially since you more or less already had a preconceived notion of what his answer would be. Perhaps your relationship really had changed, and rather than voice it outright, Thrawn expected you to determine the status of it through context to avoid having an uncomfortable conversation. It certainly didn’t feel like the two of you were lovers anymore, and with this revelation that he had the time for intimacy if he desired it and was choosing his usual activities over being in your arms, there was little reason to believe otherwise. 

The helmet was abruptly removed from your hands and placed elsewhere, with the hand that was holding yours moving to snake around your waist as you felt him pull you against his broad chest. It was a kind gesture, but what you really wanted was a definitive answer. 

“Thrawn-”

“I’ve always been adept at coursing after my targets,” he began with an ounce of regret in his somber tone, “yet I find that the ones affecting my career operations tend to take precedence over the ventures in my personal life.”

You’d already known that much, and yet the sinking fear that came with the prospect of the inevitable “it’s not you, it’s me” parting discussion still began to overtake you. It felt like you were going through all the stages of grief all at once - denial, anger, bargaining, depression...but you weren’t ready to accept this just yet. You weren’t sure you ever would be. Anger was definitely occupying the forefront of your mind; anger at Thrawn, anger at the Empire, anger at yourself...you wouldn’t be enduring all of this if you’d never fallen for him in the first place. You just had to go and fall in love with a man that was emotionally and physically unavailable, didn’t you? You’d known at least some extent of what you’d be getting into when you agreed to be his significant other - that your rendezvous together would be short-lived and few and far between, with his work always taking priority over you, but this...knowing that given the choice, given the mandate, he was still choosing the rebels over you...

It hurt.

You were tensing up in his arms, doing all that you could to keep the tears from forming. If only to encourage the transparency you wanted to see from him, you began solemnly pouring your thoughts out against his chest, the release of the words you'd been keeping to yourself for so long aiding in your preemptive recovery somewhat.

"I've often thought about joining the rebellion just to reclaim some of your attention," you admitted, the statement sounding more pathetic to your ears than you'd anticipated, "I've never been an artist, but I like to imagine what it would be like if I made rebel propaganda for you to find. I've wondered if you'd even be able to figure out it was mine, and that with every stroke it was really just me trying to tell you..." ...that I love you.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt yourself involuntarily choking on a sob, and before you could hide your face from him his hands were caressing either side of your jaw and pulling you up into a deep, tender kiss. 

How long had it been? When was the last time you felt his touch like this, let alone a kiss? It almost didn't feel real, and you instinctively returned his vigor to make sure it wasn't all just a fantasy. Your tears were stinging against both of your faces now, and Thrawn drew back to wipe them away with the pads of his thumbs. His glowing red eyes were so melancholy, his brows threading into a line as you held his indigo hands to your face and leaned into them, as though the warmth of his skin was a rare sensation that you were savoring to remember back on when you'd be without it again.

"My love..." Thrawn began, his voice soothing as he brought his lips to the tender flesh of your ear, "if I've been so neglectful of your needs that you would become my enemy to be closer to me, then I've failed you so much more exponentially than I ever could have surmised. For that, I am so, so very sorry."

Part of you perked up at the implication that perhaps he wasn't intending to cut ties with you just yet, although it was clear he had much more to say. You brought his hands down to your chest and interlocked your fingers with his, holding onto them for dear life as he continued. "I...I have become consumed by my mission. My mind won't allow me any reprieve unless I've made substantial new discoveries and analyses concerning these rebels on a constant basis. I haven't faced any challenging opposition like them in quite some time, and to feel the invigoration of facing a worthy opponent with the potential to outmaneuver me...it's...addicting."

You listened to his confession intently, relieved to have him opening his heart to you once again. You brought his hands up to your mouth and smiled with amusement before you placed a kiss against them and bore into his concerned gaze with a look of alleviation gracing your own features. “I think I’m beginning to understand where your superiors were coming from when they demanded you take this leave.”

Thrawn’s countenance softened as he returned your smile, even managing something of a titter while he brought your own hands to his lips. “Am I that insufferable?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

He flashed his teeth in an impudent grin, moistening your skin with his lips as he resumed speaking against it. “Reassuring, as always.”

“Thrawn...” you spoke gingerly as the seriousness of the conversation recommenced and you withdrew your hands, rubbing the place where his warmth had just been while you gathered up the courage to proceed with your thoughts, “I need to know where we stand. It would have been stupid of me to expect our relationship to be like anyone else’s...I’ve been aware from the beginning that your duties come first, and I’m perfectly content with that. I want to see you succeed, and I love that you’re so persistent and driven. But...”

“I know,” he interjected, his guilty conscience evident simply by the tone of his voice, “my behavior as of late has been inexcusable. You mean so much more to me than I’ve led you to believe. It has been despicable of me to overlook your wishes in favor of my work when it is unnecessary. I...I love you, and...I’d like to make it up to you.”

Your heart breathed a sigh of relief, remedied by the fact that it still belonged to him. Before you knew it, you were back in his arms in an instant and planting another passionate kiss at the corner of his mouth while you grasped at his light civilian clothing. “Do you mean it?” you asked before he could properly perform the action in return.

“Of course. There are few things I wouldn’t do for you.”

For you, that was about as good as anyone else saying that they would do anything. Some things were off the table, such as leaving the Empire or betraying the Chiss or halting his investigation of the mysterious alien race that posed a threat to the entire galaxy - but other than that, he was yours, and that was more than enough.

“I might already have a few ideas...” you admitted pleasantly, capturing his lips in a more heated kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His smile granted you more access to the rest of his mouth and you obliged, nipping at his skin and warring with his tongue as both of your actions became more lascivious. It wasn’t long before you felt his warm, strong hands snaking up your bare abdomen while you fumbled with the clasps of his shirt, though it become more difficult to concentrate once he reached your chest and focused his activity there, drawing a moan from deep within your throat. Taking note of your struggle, he briefly took his hands away from you to discard his top and aid you in removing your own. 

“I’m intrigued by these ideas, if you wouldn’t mind enlightening me,” Thrawn said as he reached both arms around you to grasp your behind and knead it through the fabric of your pants while he continued to kiss you along your temples and hairline. Your mouth was too busy peppering his pecs with kisses and love-bites to really say much, but that was alright - you were more of a demonstrator, anyway. You brought his hands to your sides and he helped you slide your bottoms down, giving your ass an excited smack once it was bare for him. He attempted to sneak a hand around the supple flesh of your inner thigh and curl a few digits upwards, but you smacked it away.

“Ah-Ah,” you tsked, guiding his arms away from you entirely. He started working at the sealing strip of his own waistband, but again, you stopped him. “No.”

“No?” he asked, a brow raised in amusement but also plenty of genuine confusion. 

“No,” you reaffirmed as you stepped completely out of your pant legs and planted your palms onto his chest, pushing against him with enough force to influence him to step backward. The pressure was continuous, so he didn’t stop until his back hit the cool metal of the durasteel wall behind him. “You’ve kept me waiting for a long time, Admiral.”

“I...yes,” he uttered, slightly taken aback by the firmness and determination in your voice, and especially the mocking tone you used with his moniker, although he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy it. 

In an impressive display of flexibility, you raised your leg up until your heel rested in the curve of Thrawn’s neck and over his shoulder, holding him in place as you stared him down with an air of dominion. “I’ve lost most of my patience,” you explained as you applied a significant amount of strength down through your foot and into his muscle, indicating once again that he was to move. He did so silently this time, enraptured by your confidence as he slid down until he was sitting on the hard ground. Your foot didn’t let up, adding more pressure as your tone became a little more demanding. “Down. All the way.”

He obliged, shifting downwards so he could lean back onto his forearms and lower himself completely onto the floor. Your foot remained on his shoulder, a smile contorting your face as you could see he was taking in the view and enjoying it, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His eyes eventually met yours, giving you an innocent and questioning look as he spoke.

“Would you like to take this outside of the office? To the bedroom, perhaps?”

“Here’s fine,” you retorted smugly, and for a moment your attention was captured again by the painted rebel helmet that was perched atop the desk beside you. You took it, examining the artwork on the front one more time before you smirked at the curious Chiss beneath you and donned it upon your head. His breath hitched when you suddenly dropped to your knees over his chest and slid your hand around to the apex of his skull, lightly grabbing a fistful of previously perfectly slicked-back hair before gazing straight down into his crimson orbs.

“Are you still curious?” you asked with an inflection of authority.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion before he spoke lowly, just above a whisper. “I believe I understand.”

“Good,” you began, positioning yourself directly over his face as you pulled his head forward so that the tip of his nose was only centimeters away from the source of your pulsing heat, “...you kriffing Imp.”

With that, you saddled his face and sighed when you felt the hot wetness of his mouth envelop you, the room quickly filling with the sounds of the obscene slurps and smacks of his ministrations on your flesh. Your other hand grasped another lock of his hair as you bucked against him, his tongue finding all your most sensitive spots as it darted over them, and all the while you carefully supported his neck while he fucked you religiously with his face. You looked down at the master tactician through half-lidded eyes before throwing your head back in ecstasy, feeling the creep of your climax edging closer and closer. You were having a difficult time catching your breath, and eventually you decided that this sensation ought to be somewhat mutual.

You reached your hand back behind you and starting palming Thrawn’s erection through the fabric of his pants, earning an approving sigh between your legs as you stimulated the head through the still-expanding wet stain of his precum. You jerked him as well as you could in tandem with his movements, struggling to suppress the moans and expletives that erupted from your lips as he went at you even harder. His hands gripped your hips with a cautious desperation as both of your breaths became increasingly ragged, and it wasn’t long before your thighs were quivering against his ears as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of absolute pleasure. Your gasps of euphoria coupled with the intensified friction of your touch had Thrawn stilling and slightly jerking his hips not long after, finally leaning his head back away from your entrance as his face flushed while he came in his pants.

The both of you relaxed as you were overtaken by the surge of your highs, and after a while you managed to shift downward so that you were straddling his waist as you removed the helmet and set it aside. You returned your attention to the handsome, feverish warrior panting beneath you and moved a stray strand of his mussed hair back into place. You leaned forward and kissed him gently on his swollen lips, not minding the taste of yourself as you rested on top of him and listened to the accelerated beating of his heart together with yours.

And when his arms wrapped around you while he planted a loving kiss on your forehead, you looked up at the ceiling and pondered just how much work he’d get done the next time he studied that helmet.

[winterscaptain]

infirmity.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part four of our 100 arc, covering 5x02, haunted! I forgot how much i love this episode, so i really leaned into this one. it’s a labor of love!! i can’t wait to hear what you all think (i crave feedback and affection) and if you reblog, i’d love to see your cheeky lil thoughts in the tags!!

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 4.3k warnings: language, bad decisions

summary: “a friend should bear his friend’s infirmities” - william shakespeare, julius caesar.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on the door at 8:30 sharp. Almost thirty seconds pass before he answers, and you note the hand on his holster as he opens the door. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you chirp. “Ready to go?”

He turns, gathering his things. “What do we know about this case in Kentucky?”

Thrown a little by the lack of greeting, you follow him into the apartment. The sight of the Foyet files on his desk aren’t foreign to you, nor are they a surprise. They’ve been there every time you came over during his leave (in fact, you’ve sat on them more than once), so why you expected them to go away once he was back you had no idea.

“Um, no connection between Call and his victims. They’re canvassing, but no sign of him so far.”

“Start with his recent history. Find the stressor.” His voice is flat, impassive, and you frown. 

He was just getting better…

You’re about to head back toward the door when -

“Don’t move.”

Right. The alarm. 

He stands by to arm it. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

+++

You arrive at the tarmac, Hotch in the passenger seat of your car. He looks a little resigned, but straightens and takes a breath before he opens the door, settling into his role as he steps out and straightens his suit jacket. 

It’s always a little funny to watch him transform. You’re honored you get to see it, even if he’s in rough shape. 

Especially then. 

You climb the stairs and follow him in, settling in your usual place. 

“Good to see you,” Dave says as Aaron scoots down the aisle. It makes you smile. 

“You, too.”

Aaron gets settled and you shift, trying not to hover but finding it difficult to be separated from him after his weeks of absence. He greets the rest of the team, exchanging pleasantries and checking in with Reid about his knee. 

“Any other attacks?”

JJ shakes her head, while Spencer elaborates. “Call’s proven hard to track. He’s never had a driver's license so he’s probably still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” Emily notes.

You hum. “He wouldn’t take the bus. His face is everywhere.”

“Has anyone found a stressor?” You weren’t sure if Aaron’s brusque affect was going to continue once you made it to the plane, but his tone just about answers your question. 

Stepping back into authority quickly, there, Aaron. 

“He just lost his job,” Garcia supplies. “He’s worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”

Derek tilts his head. “That’s a long time to be bitter.”

“Or he doesn’t care?”

JJ looks at Spencer and shakes her head. “Not if he’s got a family to feed.” 

“Actually, he’s of the hermit variety as far as I can tell. He’s got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.” You watch Garcia’s eyes flicker around the screen as she talks to you, doing what she does best. 

“Nothing to live for.”  Derek’s looking a little too pointedly at Aaron for your taste, but your evaluation is interrupted. 

“So why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

Your brain sputters at Aaron’s offhand delivery. “What?”

“Sprees usually end in suicide. If he’s got nothing to live for, why hasn’t he ended it?”

The energy in the room grows uncomfortable, fast. Aaron’s voice is still flat - you might go so far as to say it sounds dead, but that inspires a kind of heavy sullenness in your chest you’d rather not subject yourself to. 

You wish Haley was around for no other reason but to kick his ass. 

You’re thankful for Spencer when he answers Hotch’s question. “Because he isn’t finished, yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim.”

“Well,” Aaron continues, “the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

You meet Derek’s eyes and you can tell he’s trying to read you - trying to see if you’re as concerned as he is. You don’t give him the satisfaction. 

+++

Later, you corner Morgan on the plane before landing, keeping your voice low. The case is in your lap so there’s a valid distraction when you need one. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stops and turns. “I thought Hotch was cleared to drive.” 

“He is.”

“Then why did you pick him up this morning?”

You shrug. “I wanted to.” His eyes bore into the side of your head and you look up with an exasperated huff. “What?”

He sighs. “He’s only had a month off.”

“Well,” you say, aware that you’re being pedantic before you even get there, “thirty-four days. That’s a little more than a month.”

His stare is withering, but you’re impervious. “And you think that’s long enough?”

“Are you asking me as his coworker or as his friend?”

“Is there a difference?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” Yes. “But if you don’t think he’s had enough time, you should tell him.”

He scoffs. “No thanks. I like my job.”

“You like him more.” A little smile crosses your face. “Though, I know you don’t like to think so.”

“No. I like you.” Derek corrects. “He also happens to like you, so I tolerate him for your benefit.”

“Much appreciated.” You return to your work, but Derek’s eyes linger. You don’t look up as you ask, “What?”

“What if he has PTSD?”

Still writing, you answer with a general air of nonchalance. “He was evaluated.”

“Oh, come on. We wrote those questions. Hotch knows exactly -“

You slam your pen down and lean back with your arms crossed. You draw Spencer's eyes and lower your voice again. “So, what? Are you going to pick at me until you get me to say something you want me to say?” You let out a sardonic chuff, settling back to work. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna be here a while.” You tip your head a little toward the little table by the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

You admittedly feel a little bad for being short with him, but everything seems to be testing your patience today. 

And if you’re honest, you’re worried about Aaron, too. 

After a few minutes of work in silence, you call out to him again. There’s the smallest of apologies in your voice. “Derek?”

He looks at you, dark eyes open and yielding - concerned and forgiving. “Yeah?”

“He’s back because he has to be. He needs to know we’re here for him.”

“He knows that.”

You offer him a small smile. “Don’t let him forget it.” You pause, your head wavering a little bit as your tone turns a touch facetious. “I can’t do all the heavy lifting around here.”

You get a laugh out of him - just a little one - and it’s enough. “Don’t push it, kid. I remember when you were dead weight.”

You roll your eyes. 

That’s enough, for now. 

+++

Even your seemingly-endless patience with Aaron rapidly wanes as you spend more time at the crime scene. It’s frustrating. 

“He was on an antipsychotic?” You ask with a little frown. 

The pharmacist nods. “Well, that’s why I wanted him to calm down. He’s been off of them at least a month, now.” 

“And when were you going to tell us this?” Aaron asks, harsh and sharp. 

You look at him, your frown deepening. 

What the fuck is that attitude?

“He’s armed, he’s delusional. Who’s his doctor?” Hotch’s tone grows even pointier, somehow, as he pushes harder. 

“I don’t remember - my computer…” She gestures behind the desk, where the computer has been fried by a bullet. 

“Great. That’s great.” He walks away, already making a call. 

“Excuse us,” you say in an attempt to recover. Derek echoes you and you try to avoid running after Hotch as he strides down the aisle. 

Long-legged asshole. Slow down. 

“Hotch,” you call. He doesn’t listen. 

“Call JJ and tell her about the meds.” He’s still walking. You’ve caught up. 

Derek chimes in, gesturing back at the pharmacist. “This is not her fault.”

Aaron turns on him. “Morgan, he’s in a psychotic break. It changes everything.”

“You want to talk about this?” Derek asks, taking another step closer. 

Squaring up to Derek’s shoulder, you’re ready to pull them apart if they get really heated. 

Wouldn’t be the first time.

In some ways, Morgan’s admission on the plane was truer than he let on. You are the link between Derek and Aaron, almost like a balm. You see things in them that they can’t see in each other. It helps. 

With a pang, you think of Haley, for some reason. 

You miss her. 

“No.” Aaron’s interruption is sharp and it startles you out of your thoughts. “I want to find him - Garcia,” he turns, continuing on his warpath forward, “he’s been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?”

Your mouth drops open and Derek’s about to deck Aaron while his back is turned. You push in front of Derek, getting between them to give him a chance to cool off. The last thing you want is to handle more wound dressings - for either one of them. 

Aaron hangs up and walks out after what you imagine is a rather unilluminating update from Penelope. You turn, putting your hand on Derek’s shoulder and looking him in the eye. 

Still think he’s alright? His eyes ask.

 You grit your teeth. I don’t know. 

+++

The psychiatrist and patient lay dead on the floor, Call nowhere in sight. Derek directs the local officers to check the perimeter, just in case. 

You look at Hotch, who still doesn’t look completely checked in, himself. 

Or maybe he looks too checked in?

I don’t know. 

You’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t freak you out. Though he’s standing beside you, you miss him. 

Come back to me. 

You miss the man who pliantly sat under your hands as you washed his wounds and brought him takeout and forced him to take naps in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. 

You miss the man who fought you for the remote and stole far too many of your fries, who would change the channel if you made the mistake of going to the bathroom on a commercial break. 

That man was with you as late as Saturday. Returning has brought something else out in him, the part of him that spent (often very) late nights looking for Foyet has risen to the forefront. 

“We’re too late.” 

Before the rest of you can do anything, Aaron leaves the room, pushing past Dave in his haste to leave. 

Emily calls after him, but he’s long gone down the hallway. They look at you. 

All you can do is shake your head with a downturned curve of your mouth. 

+++

After a little while, you go downstairs and find Hotch outside. Before you can say anything - 

“I should have seen the blinking on the video.” 

You huff at him. “Hotch, it could have been a nervous tic. You couldn’t have known - none of the records were available, yet.” 

“But it wasn’t a tic. It’s a classic sign of long-term antipsychotic use, and I missed it.”

You step in front of him, squarely meeting his eyes. “We all missed it.” 

He’s got another pessimistic jab that you choose to ignore just before Emily and Dave arrive with news from Garcia. 

Oh, Aaron. 

+++

The officer huffs. “I don’t care why he took him.” 

Aaron had, once again, escalated the situation with local police. Tensions are high, and you only hope he can get his shit together at some point. “You should.” 

Goddamn it, Aaron. 

He continues, advancing on the police captain. “Call’s memory is no longer suppressed. He’s reinventing his past and unless we understand how, we’re not going to find either of them.”

“Well, I’m not gonna just sit around and speculate.” 

It’s an old-fashioned Western standoff, now. 

Who’s Clint Eastwood?

Well, Hotch has the looks but -

Quit. 

Fine. 

“Then don’t.”

The captain turns to you, Emily, and Dave. “You don’t think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Dave answers evenly. 

The captain looks at Aaron once more before storming off. The rest of you approach Hotch, and Emily’s a little frustrated when she reminds him, “There’s a kid missing.” 

“They don’t need the extra manpower.” 

You squint at him. “Since when?”

“If we had studied Foyet’s initial crimes -”

Oh for the love of fuck. 

“- we would have known that a survivor didn’t make sense.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

Great question, Emily.

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet’s history. But we didn’t, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. I am not making that mistake again.” He leaves the three of you stunned in his wake. After a moment, you follow him. 

You always do. 

+++

“Let’s go.” 

You’ve got the address to the unsub’s home and you take the car with Aaron, the rest of the team following behind you. 

He drives fast, but that’s nothing new. He throws the siren and floors it. You call SWAT yourself, getting Derek prepared for staging. 

When you get out of the car, you throw your vest on, helping Emily with the straps across her shoulders before she can reach them themselves. 

“Prentiss,” Aaron says, putting his earwig in. “Check in with the lieutenant, see if there’s anything we can use.” 

She nods. “Yes, sir.” 

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

You throw your head to the side, and he takes your flank as you get closer to Emily. Her briefing with this particular lieutenant could go sideways, but you don’t want to leave him feeling trapped. 

“...The kid’s in there. We got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. He’s still focused on the old man.”

Emily squints, adjusting her comm. “For now, but we’re gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I’ve got a team in the back and one on the way. We’re going to infiltrate.” 

“You do that and someone else dies.” The balance of firm and collaborative rests delicately on her tone. She’s doing well. 

“Either Call or a child murder. Flip a coin.” 

His tone frustrates you, but you leave Emily to her devices, checking your magazines for the third time. Your sidearm is in place, as is your backup. 

“It doesn’t have to end like that. We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” She pauses, and a streak of white flashes in your peripheral. “Hotch!” 

You whirl, ready to sprint after him as he walks decisively past the rest of you, past the gate, and into the house. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a break for it. A wall of arms stops you, and you know Derek’s behind you when you hear, “What the hell is he doing?”

No vest...Is he even carrying his gun? 

“Let him go.” 

You turn on Dave, your face plastered with fear and fury. “What do you mean let him go. Rossi -”

“I’m not letting him go in there solo.” Derek pushes against Dave again, but to your surprise, he’s locked in tight. 

“We have to trust him.” 

That cools Derek off, but not you. You thrash, freeing yourself from one of the local cops. “The hell we do.” 

“Kid - wait, no.” The roles reverse, and Derek catches up to you and locks you in his arms before you can breach the perimeter. Your elbows don’t land against his vest, but you sure try. “You’ll get him killed.” 

There’s only stress and silence as you stop struggling. All you can do is wait. 

Derek keeps his arm around you, but you almost feel like the contact is for both of you. You take deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate. It’s through the roof. 

“What’s he doing?” Emily asks into her mic. 

Dave leans into his comm. “Stalling.” 

You can almost feel Derek’s jaw tightening. “He has nothing to lose.” 

He has everything to lose. 

You have everything to lose. 

Don’t be a hero, Aaron. Don’t do anything stupid. 

You hope that he can hear you somehow. 

Too late. 

Hotch appears in the window, followed by the boy. 

There’s a quick SWAT conversation in your ear. 

“Do you have the shot?”

“Negative, negative.”

He’s blocking the shot. 

Goddamn you, Aaron. Goddamn you. 

“Bringing the boy out,” a faceless voice on the radio says. The hostage runs down off the porch and you catch a glimpse of Aaron before he disappears behind the door again. 

You turn your head a touch, keeping your eyes on the door. “Get him out of there.” 

Dave shakes his head. “That’s his call.” 

Your body is wound tighter than a coil and you’re not sure if you’re ready to storm in there or just start walking home. 

There’s a gunshot, and you’re out of there like a bat out of hell. You launch yourself over the short fence and attach yourself to the first SWAT agent you see, remembering your training at the last moment. 

You breach the house and find Aaron cuffing Darin, whose father is dead in the armchair in front of him. Your jaw has never been tighter. 

Once you confirm that he is in fact still alive and still only has nine holes in him, you turn on your heel and you storm out of the house. You don’t stop until you’re leaning on the front of one of the cars, trying to catch your breath. Your hands shake and you don’t trust your knees to hold you up. 

The relief wars with something hot and unpleasant, leaving you more exhausted than you’ve been in weeks. 

You keep your head turned away from Aaron as he approaches you. It’s petty, but you also don’t want him to see the fear on your face. 

He calls you with a sigh in his voice and it finally ignites the fear into anger. 

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you spit. Your voice isn’t loud, but it certainly carries. JJ’s eyes flicker to you from the other side of the yard. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” 

His jaw tightens. “Let’s not do this here.” 

Your brow draws across your eyes and your mouth opens, indignant. “Let’s not do this here? You’re fucking kidding me.”

In his current state, nothing is off the table. His temper is running short and you know you’re capable of pushing him until he breaks. It hasn’t happened yet, but today might be it.  

Much to your surprise, a sigh leaves him, and he knows he’s stepped in it. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You scoff, shaking your head. 

His remorse only stokes your anger. Go figure. 

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry. You could have died, Hotch. What you did was so beyond protocol I don’t even know if I should start with the necessity of your life because we need you as our unit chief or the importance of your safety as my friend -” You cut yourself off and look away from him, frustrated you even got that far. 

He has nothing to say to that. You’re completely right. The guilt might as well be written across his face in Sharpie. 

His absence fucked with you, to say the least. It felt awful, empty, in the field without him. And then when you were home - well, back at the apartment, he was only ever in pain. 

Overall, your anxiety regarding his health and safety is riding high. 

Much to your frustration, your eyes water, and your lower lip shakes - angry tears an ever-present threat. Your arms cross over your chest. “I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He reaches out for your arm, but you throw him off before he can make contact, turning your head. You stare at the ground, watching him flounder out of the corner of your eye. 

“Go. Go do your fucking job, Hotch.” His nickname is acid in your mouth. It feels like a punishment, a lash of a whip. He doesn’t move, and you turn on him, meeting his guilty brown eyes with your flinty ones. “Go. Make the arrest. They’re waiting on you.” You throw your chin to Derek and Emily, who are indeed waiting for him on the porch with the unsub. 

With another heavy sigh, he turns and rejoins the rest of your team. 

You stay where you are, directing coroner and local law enforcement personnel to relevant staging areas as the crime scene is processed and handled. Aaron’s eyes try to find yours, but you avoid them, focusing on someone, anyone else with crisp professionalism that hardly belies your fear. 

You’ve never been so angry in your life. Even if you have, you can’t remember it feeling this wretched.

+++

He sits beside you on the plane once you’re up in the air and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The rest of the team sleeps scattered around the cabin, but you suspect that at least one of them is faking it, waiting for some kind of spectacle or spectacular blowup between the two of you. 

You haven’t spoken to Aaron since leaving the crime scene. You drove back to the precinct with Emily and Dave, staying close to JJ and Spencer while you packed your things. There’s a part of you that feels bad for creating what Strauss would call a “hostile work environment,” but the other part can’t bring itself to care. 

You can’t even begin to articulate the fear that coursed through you as you waited for him outside that house. You couldn’t begin to explain the extent of your fear, but after the stabbing and the removal of Haley and Jack from your lives, the prospect of losing him in the field was beyond unbearable. 

It’s frustrating to feel so comforted by his proximity while you’re still so angry with him. The familiarity of it all hardly blunts your anger. If anything, the relief at having him back at your side sharpens your anger into something that scares you. 

The impossibility of it is beyond measure. You’ve known for some time now, but this is the first you’re willing to admit it. 

I love him. 

Fuck.

You love him. You love his son. You love his wife. 

You love the weird look he gets on his face when he has to say “penetration” while he’s delivering a profile. You love the way he tries not to smile when Emily beats Spencer at chess. You love the way he twiddles with pens when he’s thinking or nervous or both. You love that each of his smiles feel like a gift just for you. 

There’s nothing you don’t love about him. 

Except, of course, the way he, with profound idiocy, endangered his life today for no particular reason in addition to his generally asshole-ish behavior. 

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m sure you know that.” 

You do.

He waits on you, quiet and still. 

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

He nods, his jaw flexing. 

“Don’t do it again.” 

He blinks once, slowly. You know he can’t promise that, but you appreciate his acknowledgment nevertheless. There’s quiet for a moment. 

“Aaron…” You look at him, nothing but concern in your tone. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say…” You swallow, trying to find better words but coming up short. “We’ll get him.”

+++

Derek’s voice echoes down to the bullpen as you finish up the last few pieces of your paperwork. “I will not stand by and watch this man kill himself.” 

Aaron’s door is closed as he works. You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if you’d rather he hear it. You can’t really hear Dave - not that you’d want to, you’re almost as pissed at him as you are at Aaron - but it doesn’t matter. You know what he has to say. 

Derek’s voice drops lower than you can hear. Dave drops his head. 

Moments later, Derek flies back down the stairs, grabs his jacket, and takes his leave with a cursory goodbye thrown in your direction. Dave returns to his desk and Aaron’s door finally opens. 

You look up as his lights turn off, gathering your things at your desk. With a little sigh that looks a bit like defeat, he stops at your desk. The smugness doesn’t completely leave your tone. “Need a ride?”

Of course, he does. “Please.” 

You rise and walk to the elevators together. In the silence, you tell him, “I’m still really mad at you.” 

A sigh. “I know.” 

+++

You walk him upstairs and take care of the alarm while he removes his suit jacket and throws it over the couch. 

“Do you think Call’s gonna be okay?” You ask, still facing the alarm. 

“I don’t know.”

“He got his answers,” you note, turning to him. “He killed the man who haunted him.” 

His eyes are fixed on a spot on the carpet. “And what else is there?”

“Years of torture.” You both know you’re not talking about Call anymore, but it’s nice to pretend. It gives you the opportunity to say things you wouldn’t - shouldn’t - say to him. “Fear. Grief.”

“Think he’ll get over that?” 

“How could he?” A humorless smile pulls at one corner of your mouth. “But at least he doesn't feel like he’s alone.”

He finally meets your eyes. “He doesn’t have anyone.” I don’t have anyone, his brow says. 

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.” 

You have me. You’re not alone. 

His brows pull low over his eyes, and you take another opportunity as it comes. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?”

“No, I’m alright.” He takes a little breath and you round the corner, pouring him a couple fingers of whiskey before making a slow, purposeful trek across the room. “Thank you,” he says, taking it. 

“Of course. Anytime.” Now, you both know you aren’t talking about the drink. 

Nevertheless, you pat your pockets for your keys, phone, and various federal paraphernalia, finding them all where they belong. “I should head out, then. Call if you need anything.” 

He nods, watching you with quiet eyes as you close and lock the door behind you. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless​ @jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans

[hieludoboi]

Okay okay hear me out,,, Todoroki x a nb!reader,,, He finally actually confessed to them and the reader is just like cannot accept that Todoroki Shouto actually likes them. They're in total disbelief

A/n- Reader’s just standing there like “Me? Oh. That’s right, who else here is named Y/n” and Shouto’s kinda just standing there like ‘....’

A/n- Also! Just the thought of Pro Hero Todo getting like a scone or something sweet every morning before a patrol (I headcanon Shouto liking sweets, just idk, something about it just works for me) and slowly falling for the baker at his favorite bakery

A/n- I did a little research for how to write non-binary readers and such, and I feel like it’s kinda difficult to write for them unless specifics are given! Some non-binary individuals are masculine, other’s are feminine, some go by they/them, some by she/her or sometimes by zie/zim. I didn’t feel like it was right for me to write for these individuals specifically until I do a bit more research and learn to properly write for them!

A/n- Non-binary is a blanket term encompassing a whole list of genders/identities that don’t exactly follow societal gender norms! Sometimes non-binary individuals have gendered pronouns, sometimes they don’t! Since you didn’t specify I’m going to label this as a more gender neutral thing! 

A/n- Update, I researched like two hours and I still don’t understand. My brain very fried no work from online classes brainrot but not by bokuto by staring at screen all dy. Someone pls give my pigeon brain examples on how to properly write for nb! readers rn or I’ll pull out the glock >:(

Pairing- Pro Hero! Shouto / Gn! Reader

Summary- So he was serious? 

Warnings- not really?

It was a mundane Tuesday morning. The sun had yet to rise, slowly peaking over the city’s skyline, yet somehow getting lost among all the trees and towers. As with every morning, Y/n started off their day by preparing for their day. A quick shower, followed by washing their face and brushing their teeth. Before they knew it, they were trudging out of the house and making their way to the bakery to prepare for the morning rush.

Y/n was quirkless in a society plagued by quirks, an average day to day citizen if you will. They didn’t mind, in fact, life even seemed a bit easier when they didn’t have to worry about controlling some strange and odd power. The rest of the world, however, couldn’t begin to fathom how they even managed to lead a life without a quirk. 

Stifling a yawn, they made their way to the front door, unlocking it before closing it and locking it behind them. If the day went as planned, which normally it didn’t, they’d have scones, muffins, and croissants all out and freshly baked by six. Bear claws, donuts, and danish pastries would be out by eight, all the rolls and loafs would be done by ten and by eleven they could hopefully get started on the sugary sweets that their younger costumers seemed to enjoy so much. 

Their morning dragged on as usual. One by one the rest of the employees pooled into the back kitchen, kneading dough and making batters to pour in to tins or mold into shape. Grunting, Y/n picked up a tray chocked full of scones and made their way towards the display cases, setting the tray atop the display and carefully arranging the scones inside. Looking up at the pretty light blue clock, Y/n hummed. Their day rarely went as planned, but they could always count on Shouto coming in once the clock hit six-thirty. 

“Waiting on Mr. Pro-Hero?” Y/n turned around, feeling the heat begin to seize the apples of their cheeks. Sputtering, Y/n turned around, ignoring their coworker and instead focusing on arranging the last of the scones.

“Come onnnnnn! How are you so oblivious!” Y/n huffed, quickly standing up before thrusting the empty tray into Hina, their coworker’s, hands. “Y/n. He likes you!!” Hina groaned, following a wordless Y/n back into the kitchen. 

“Hina. No he doesn’t!!” Y/n mocked Hina as they slid a tray of muffins into the oven. Hina grunted, pulling out a giant bowl of risen dough before letting it fall onto a flowered counter top. “Besides, he’s rumored to be dating Creati,” Y/n pointed out, dusting their hands off on their apron.

“They’re just ru-” Hina rubbed her temples, watching as Y/n made their way towards the front at the sound of the little bell ringing. When would they stop being so oblivious?

--------------------------------

Nothing seemed to go right that morning. While on his usual morning patrols, Shouto had run into Momo. While it was a welcome surprise, the situation was not. They had run into each other while battling a lowlife villain with a disastrous quirk. Damages were not kept to a minimum, and all Shouto wanted to do after being chewed out by local authorities was to go bite into a delicious scone at his favorite bakery. 

“This could have gone better,” Momo sighed, rubbing her temples as they both surveyed the damage they had done to the small plaza. Shouto nodded, he couldn’t agree more. “We should probably go out west, right? If there were robberies here, there’s bound to be some in the shopping centre,” Shouto nodded, Momo had some nice ideas. 

“We can stop by a bakery there too, I know a place that makes some nice scones,” Shouto explained as they walked, a subtle smile on his face at the thought of the baker that awaited him every morning. “What time is it?” SHouto asked, turning to look at Momo. 

“Oh, it’s around seven-thirty, why?” This morning could not have gone any worse for Shouto. First, he has to stop villains at the crack of dawn, and now he’s going to miss out on scones? Admittedly, they didn’t sell fast, but the bakery didn’t make a lot of them either. 

“No reason,” Shouto shrugged. He hoped he wouldn’t miss Y/n.

-------------------------------------

Y/n sighed, watching as the seconds ticked by on the clock overhead. It was eight already. Shouto was never late, ever. The man had a thing for punctuality, and even when everything was going wrong, Y/n could always count on seeing their favorite customer before the sun fully rose.

“Pretty boy ain’t here yet?” Y/n stood up, turning to look at the smug grin on their co-worker’s face. Curling their lip and rolling their eyes, Y/n went back to slouching over the counter, resting their chin on their palm as they zoned in on the glass door ahead of them. “C’mon boss! Cheer up, we’ll never make any sales with a grumpy face up front!” Y/n frowned seemed to become deeper, rooting itself in their brows and lips. 

“And I suppose having a super buff woman who looks like she can pop your head off with a squeeze of her biceps at the counter will allure customers like nothing ever could?” Y/n teased, grinning as Hina flexed her biceps. 

“Children adore me. They see me and are amazed by the ‘big muscle woman’,” Hina gloated, wiggling her eyebrows while continuing to pose behind the counter.

“Yeah yeah, go help Kohaku before he breaks an arm trying to knead the dough,” Y/n grumbled, pushing Hina into the kitchen so they could focus on the sales upfront. Kohaku liked decorating cakes, but every once in a while he’d have to knead dough while Hina helped Y/n arrange things up front.

Picking at their nails for a minute or so with boredom, Y/n’s head instantly popped up as soon as the bell on the glass door chirped. Their eyes instantly attatched themselves to the blue suit before them, almost completely ignoring the red latex that stood beside it. 

“Shou! I was starting to think you’d... never get here,” Y/n’s voice was filled with excitement at first, immediately dying off at the sight of Creati, who stood right next to him. Offering the pro hero a pleasant smile, Y/n grabbed their gloves and tray, their tongs hanging off a little hook on the display case.

“What can I get for you two?” Y/n asked, the bright smile that usually reached their eyes seeming to drown before it could fully rise. Shouto frowned a bit to himself, wondering where the usually happy and bright baker he had grown so used to had gone. Was he maybe reading too into it? 

“Oh! I’ll a pumpkin walnut muffin! They look so good!” Momo praised, delicately pointing to her preferred muffin through the glass case. 

“Thank you, made the recipe myse-”

“And we baked them!” Y/n winced at Hina’s booming voice, opening their eyes as soon as it died out. 

“Sorry about that, you’ll come to find that this bakery comes alive after a certain hour,” Y/n explained with a giggle, placing the muffin on the tray they held. “And you, Shouto?” Y/n asked, tilting their head a bit as they awaited his answer. 

“The usual,” Shouto made sure to offer them a grin, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit as he watched Y/n set the tray on the counter. 

“Lucky you, I made sure to save one just for you!” Y/n hummed happily, reaching for the last scone before placing it on the tray. Shouto could feel the shy smile subtly spreading on his face, did they really save on just for him? 

“I’ll pay, it’s the least I can do after you helped me out earlier today,” Momo said, turning to give Shouto a smile. 

“Right, thank you, Momo,” Shouto gratefully accepted his scone, waving goodbye to Momo as she left the shop. Shouto preferred to eat his scones at the shop anyway.

“Are you not joining me today?” Shouto looked up, a confused look on his face as he watched Y/n fidget behind the counter. They would always snack on a danish pastry and sit with Shouto before he had to leave again. It was routine at this point. 

“Oh! Right, sorry,” Y/n muttered sheepishly, snagging a pastry from the display case before heading over to Shouto’s usual spot by the window. For the umpteenth time that day, Shouto could feel himself frowning. He wondered what was wrong. 

“S-so you and Creati?” Y/n asked, taking a small bite from the sweet bread that sat in their hands. Shouto looked up, eyes widened in surprise, midway through a bite of his scone. Was that what this was about?

“She helped me stop some villains this morning, that was all,” Shouto explained. Y/n hummed, nodding their head as they started to pick at the jam filled sweet in front of them. “Oh, uhm...” Shouto mumbled, his brow furrowed as he began to search his pockets. Where had he left it?

“You okay, Shou?” Y/n giggled, amused by the way his face had contorted when he began to search for his little mystery item. 

“Yeah, fine... Oh! Found it,” Shouto muttered, pulling out the small box that had resided in his pocket since the day prior. “Here, for you,” Shouto mumbled bashfully, sliding the velvet box across the table to Y/n.

“For me? Shou... That’s sweet, but you didn’t have to,” Y/n explained, gently sliding the box back to Shouto. Accepting gifts felt odd, especially if they were from Shouto. They could already imagine what ridiculously expensive gift sat inside.

“Please, open it?” Shouto asked, sliding the box back across and making sure to set it in Y/n’s hands this time. Y/n gasped, eyes wide as they felt the heat rush to their face. Open and closing their mouth in a flustered fit, Y/n finally decided to delicately pry open the box, eyes tripling in size at the sight of the gold chain anklet studded in pearls that sat in the box. 

“Shouto... No, I can’t accept this,” Y/n insisted, shaking their head profusely, shutting the box and trying to put it back in Shouto’s hands.

“You can, and you will. Can we go out sometime?” Y/n could feel their jaw drop to the floor. First the anklet and now he’s just asking for a date like it’s a regular Tuesday?

“M-me?” Y/n asked, looking around the shop, the confusion settling in their eyes, locking their mind in some sort of fuzzy haze. 

“Yes, so, will you?” Shouto asked once more, amused by their cute little reaction.

“Uh, sure... Sure...”

“Cool. I’ll pick you up at seven,”

“But we don’t close untill-”

“THEY’LL BE READY BY 4!”

“Hina-”

“I SAID YOU’LL BE READY BY FOUR DAMNIT!”

“I’ll be ready by four!”

[project-pnf-404]

Checkpoint and important updates 2!!: Electric boogaloo!!

Heyo guys!! Long time no talk. So, I’ve got some cool update stuff to show you guys. I’ve been doing a lot of blog “housekeeping” since the end of the last event. (don’t worry it hopefully won’t be boring update stuff lmao as it includes some new supplementary content). So, first and foremost, thanks to the inspiration from @koppais-smallest-nerd I’d like to let you guys know that I am now adding screen reader access to all future posts!!! This one included. At the bottom of each post under the, “read more”, image descriptions for all images will be added! Screen reader accessibility will also be added to all previous asks on the blog. However, getting through all of them will take a tiny bit. As, of this update, the first 4 asks have had image descriptions added. As well as all the supplementary content in between where applicable.

I’d also like to show you guys some supplementary content for the blog. Between these dashed lines are in character day 1 log entries written by the rest of the crew. 

———————————————

———————————————

I originally wasn’t sure if I wanted to put these extra day 1 logs on the main blog or not. But, I’ve decided that all supplementary content that may be story related will remain on the main blog for the foreseeable future, while BTS content will end up on PNF-404-Plus.

That being said since the end of the 1st event and my time away from the blog a lot has been going on when it comes to the blog.

For one the entire desktop version of the blog has had a large overhaul. A new theme has been added to the main page.

But, not only that but new side pages with supplementary content have been added!! This includes an event list, a bio page for the crew members of the S.S Drake, a Piklopedia page for the new Piklopedia, and a music page to top it all off!!

The Event List will show each new event as they are added! You can click on the current known events to go directly to all posts tagged with that event tag. Speaking of which all Event 01 posts have now had their tags updated with the Event 01 tag making it much easier to navigate.

The new Crew Members page has bios for all the members currently on the mission or known in the story so far! These Bios are pretty in line with cannon with some fanon, and light headcanon added  in for good measure. I recommend taking a look as it does have some interesting info in there. Also quick note: all of these bios are written as if it is prior to the beginning of the blog.

Then there’s the Piklopedia!! Here you can read each of their findings as they explore PNF-404! Currently the findings will be on each area they explore (not each creature they find) as they haven’t found any new creatures yet. There is also a map of places they’ve discovered and more!

Lastly, a new music page has been added. On this page, I’ve created event-inspired music playlists. Some of the songs have been mentioned in the past. But, here you can listen to them all in one place and see which songs are for which part of the events. As well there’s a secret songs playlist. This playlist has nothing to do with the blog directly but is filled with music given to me by people I’ve met from this community while I’ve been here!! Currently, there are 5 songs there, however, there will be more added in the future! What makes it secret is that you won’t know who gave me the song XD. (well unless you’re the one who gave me the song lmao) who knows if you’ve ever shared music with me before you may find your song there!! (There is also one song I’m sharing with you guys in there too so have fun figuring that out lmao. )

As well the table of contents has been once again updated with a lot of this new stuff as well as some other new information!! As for mobile users as of now, all of this is on separate Tumblr pages. However, in the near future, I will be uploading much of this stuff , such as the Piklopedia entries and Crew Bio’s, as individual posts! However, in the meantime, if you feel like you can always check out these pages on your phone browser instead if you’re a mobile-exclusive user. (Though some pages don’t look as good on phone)

Welp, I think that’s it as far as updates go!! I should be back with brand new ask posts soon (likely within the next week or so!) so keep a look out!! I’ll see ya guys again soon and thanks for reading!!!

{{ Screen reader image description is under “read more”}}

In the first image,  Alph’s Day 1 Log entry is shown. His log says, “To think I thought the first day would go well. Then again I didn’t think I would get sucked out of the ship either so maybe I should stop being so surprised. At the very least Louie and I were able to find our way back despite some obstacles and I was able to fix the ship in time. Though if it weren’t for Chunks we would have never found the pikmin we did. That little guy sure saved the day. 

However, Then there's what happened to Brittany… To see her in a situation like that... I can’t even bear to think about it. Tomorrow I will be checking over the entirety of the Drake to make sure a crash like that doesn't happen again. I can't help but think that the crash was due to me overlooking something during maintenance... However, The only thing I can do now is to make sure something like this never happens again for all our sake, especially Brittanys’. “ It is then sighed by Alph

In the second Image Charlies Day 1 Log entry can be read it says, “I should have been on top of things. As this crew’s captain, everything that went wrong was under my watch and things should have gone much smoother. That being said I am very glad that all of my crew have made it out alive. Though I am still worried about Brittany. If only I was able to keep her safe…

 But, at this point, we all must press forward. We have a task to complete and after seeing how devastated some areas are, we must get to the bottom of what’s wrong with PNF-404. Nothing will get in my way, not with my steely fists that is!!” It is then signed by  Charlie

In the third image Louies’ day 1 log entry can be seen it says, 

“

Going back to the pikmin planet wasn’t at the top of my list of things I thought I’d be doing anytime soon. Yet somehow I find myself back here and stranded again…. At least I wasn’t fully alone this time…

Alph and I eventually found a pikmin that we later named Chunks. He sure acts differently in comparison to any other Pikmin I’ve seen before. But, even still, if it weren’t for Chunks, we wouldn’t have been able to help Brittany or find any other pikmin for that matter. So, we should thank him for that.” It is then signed by Louie

In the fourth image the updated version of the Project: PNF-404 Tumblr is shown. It now has a bright cyan futuristic aesthetic to it. In the fifth image a picture of the new events page, listing all the past and future events planned so far is shown. It has 1 known event Titled Event 01. The other 3 are titled Event unknown. In the sixth image, the new crew members’ character page is shown. A picture of Olimar is shown along with a description of his traits and a biography. It reads as follows, 

CAPTAIN OLIMAR

AGE 38

ALIAS(ES)Olimar

SPECIES Hocotatian

GENDER Male

TITLE(S) Employee of Hocotate Freight, Xenobiologist

AFFILIATION Hocotate Freight, Planet Hocotate Government

Fatherly, well-meaning, and resourceful, for an almost 40 year old Hocotatian he has a lot of bravery and guts. Olimar first and foremost loves his family and cares deeply for others around him. A Hardworking employee of Hocotate Freight and family man, Olimar tends to try and stay level-headed while looking out for others.

Having been one of the first to visit the Pikmin planet Olimar has extensive knowledge of the planet's life. Lucky for him he just so happens to have gone to college for xenobiology. Many of his findings can be found within his many log entries known as the Piklopedia.

But, for as much as Olimar tends to be on top of things, his trips to the pikmin planet have had him face many dangers and life-threatening events. Though these issues are not something he brings up…

In the seventh image, The new Piklopidea page is shown, In one section it displays a map of PNF-404 with 2 marked locations. The first of which is highlighted in blue is named the “Silent Stream” the second, is highlighted in orange, Its title is “Glacial Gardens”. To the right of that is a description introduction for the Piklopedia. It says” To help ensure the progress and success of this mission all crew members must write down their findings in this log. Overview: 

CAPTAIN Olimar: Writes In-depth biological analysis of fauna and how the ecosystem affects said fauna.

LOUIE: Writes about Recipes and ingredients that can be found in each area. ALPH: Looks at the area with the eyes of an engineer. He uses this insight to discuss the benefits and flaws of what he’s analyzing. BRITTANY: Uses her botanist skills to look into the flora of the area along with talking about the aesthetics of things and adding in her own general opinions.

CAPTAIN CHARLIE: Writes about combat strategy and how one can use the environment in an area for a tactical advantage.

To the left is a map showing the current locations discovered by the crew. The one highlighted in orange has yet to be explored.

The final image shows the new music page! 6 playlists can be selected on the left each having 5 songs. To the right is an image of the event 01 cover art. With (from left to right), Brittnay, Charlie, Olimar, Louie, and Alph all looking up with a distressed expression on their faces. 

END ID

[normal-thoughts-official]

Do you think the polycule has any holiday traditions?

POLYCULE ASK! POLYCULE ASK! POLYCULE ASK! YESSSSSSSSSS

that's actually a pretty interesting question because the polycule is very culturally diverse. like of course we have simon who's jewish, but the rest is kind of in a weird place. i'm pretty sure shadowhunters don't have holidays at all, and since clary was raised by a shadowhunter and a former shadowhunter, i'm pretty sure she would have been raised without any either? like maybe she'd celebrate the gregorian new year because you know, they have to pretend to be mundane after all, but i think that and birthdays were probably pretty much it for her. oh and halloween i guess which is also not religious-affiliated, are there any other holidays in the states? i guess there's the 4th of july and thanksgiving but both celebrate imperialism/colonialism and i don't want to write about that so i'm gonna pretend there aren't. plus i doubt shadowhunters celebrated those either

so ok we have izzy and clary with no holidays, we don't know whether or not maia is culturally christian and i don't wanna just say "yes" by default... and then there's meliorn whose holidays and traditions will be typical to seelie culture, which are gonna be... unique to them obviously. we don't know how they are celebrated, how long they last, what is the milestone, how or even IF they count time - like maybe they go by when a specific flower blooms and that only happens every 10 gregorian years or some shit. so that's a question mark i guess

and there's also the fact that the seelie realm is very politically closed which. i like to think changes once they get rid of the old queen! but it's still a slow process to just allow other people there. then again izzy was a shadowhunter and she used to hop by so it's probably not a huge deal for meliorn to bring their partners and metamours to seelie celebrations? or at least to the ones that aren't Super Sacred or anything. so like parties and dances and stuff like that? yeah. which i guess brings me back to the other "meta" i wrote about seelie dances (link) and what it would be like for the rest of the polycule to participate in those and shit

then... well obviously there's the gregorian new year which we have obviously just gone through (well, we had when i started answering this ask. it's march now so rip. update it's april now. i'm so sorry anon) so like! i think it was always kind of hell for both raphael and maia, autistic icons, because of all the explosion sounds that just made them feel really upset and feel really stupid for it. with raphael i think it was more bearable when he had rosa because she would spend the day with him and hug him and let him squeeze the stress out you know dauhdasuihda also she was always the one he felt the most comfortable stimming in front of. and then after he lost her it only got worse because on top of the fireworks there was the clear absence of rosa that he just FELT everywhere. you know?

and with maia there's the added trouble of her being AMAB and what with being raised to "black men" standarts of masculinity (to be clear, as in: due to racism black men are expected to be even more macho than white men, ESPECIALLY by nonblack ppl; not as in wow black ppl are so backwards or whatever. white ppl invented gender norms anyway so lmao), she was definitely shamed a lot for being so distressed by the fireworks when she was little methinks. we love that combination of transphobia, racism and ableism! so it was just hard and filled with bad memories. and then once she ran away from home it got marginally better without the constant telling her to "man up" and shit like that, but it still came with the added memories you know

and also with them (plus simon) being vampires/werewolves the hearing gets even more sensitive so that's... fun. meliorn realizes it stresses them out and makes up a special kind of spell that muffles their hearing of background noise, so they can feel more comfortable and for the first time there is not that added stress that comes with the new years and it feels so nice?? they even try watching the fireworks but it's kinda like eh, not that great, especially because even looking at them brings out memories you know doahdsaoh so instead meliorn shows them some magic and it's so much prettier with all the glowing lights and stuff, you know?

maybe after that the polycule starts spending the new years in the seelie realm instead, that'd be cute, just like. enjoying that pretty place with all the lights and shit. i think they would all prepare some kind of light show some way or another like using magic and witchlights and whatnot. that'd be cute

as for other holidays! i think their holiday traditions would start with simon's first yom kippur after he was able to eat solid foods again (shut up a potion WILL be created and i don't accept any other option). before that, with simon being unable to eat, he was also obviously unable to fast. he wouldn't feed during yom kippur but it's not like vampires need to drink blood every day so it's not really the same thing. and it felt particularly lonely that, besides being away from his family and community, he also couldn't fast

i mean obviously simon isn't the only jewish vampire in the world, or jewish downworlder for that matter, so i'm sure he makes jewish friends he would at least get together and pray with for yom kippur, and that's what matters the most, really, but being unable to fast when he wants to and also not being able to participate in the break-fast meal just. sucks djdnudhsus

and then he's able to eat and he can do all that again! but it's also kind of emotionally charged for all of the vampires to fast for the first time when for so long they associated not eating with feeling unhuman, you feel? so like it kind of hits all of them hard

so the polycule decides to make him a little surprise and cooks the break-fast meal for them. clary probably knows what simon and his family used to eat after yom kippur so they try to recreate that for him? and maia and raphael are lowkey nervous about it because they had never made stuff like noodle kugel before and while they could at least try it (yay potion!) they have no idea if it's tasting like it should, ya know what i mean? and it's kind of sweet that they are so worried about making this the best possible experience for simon and the closest to home it can get. and simon is super emotional about getting to eat that stuff for the first time, as well as the other vampires, so you know. it's very emotional all around. but in a good way? and i think after that it kind of becomes a tradition that they make him the break-fast meal after yom kippur too

and then the next years they lowkey fuss over him for the last meal before the fast too, which i'm not sure is something simon would do with other people so they would go ham, dude, particularly raphael because he is a worrier first and foremost. so catch his ass all lovingly planning a meal he can make with zero (0) salt whatsoever so simon doesn't get too thirsty during the fast for MONTHS, planning so he gets the most amount of sustenance, lots of fiber, etc., and simon is like "you know i don't even have to eat, right?" but rapha is just all "you know food still matters" and simon doesn't say anything because it does. it matters a lot

and raphael is all sweetly nervous because like... it is a simple meal, that is the point, but he still wants simon to enjoy it and simon can't stop smiling through the whole thing. raphael and the others also eat it with him too in solidarity before simon goes to the synagogue with his community and it's like a sweet send off you know?

also this is not exactly a celebration or a tradition for that matter but since YK is the day of forgiveness i like to think that eventually simon asks for raphael's forgiveness on YK for the whole rosa thing, and although that isn't religious for raphael, raphael asking for his forgiveness for how everything went down, too. and it's just a sweet moment where they leave this whole story behind and look for a better future - i imagine this happening before they get together, so again, it doesn't really count as an answer to your question, but i just thought i'd include it because i find it sweet

then after that there is sukkot and i just really loove the idea of them helping him build the sukkah (for those who don't know, the sukkah is a hut covered with vegetation under the open sky, where jewish ppl live in for the duration of the sukkot). i know that they could just buy a certified one but where is the fun in that when we could have shenanigans? also i think that that would have been part of simon's personal/family traditions because i bet him and becca loved to build the sukkah for their family. so like on that spirit it is a little sad that they can't help each other with that anymore since simon can't be seen by the rest of his family, but of course as soon as he mentions it and how fun it used to be the whole polycule is Immediately On Board. let's help simon build his sukkah!

first of all other than simon none of them have ever built a sukkah before and simon usually followed becca's lead tbh, also he's just not great to Lead And Control people in general, and the polycule is already messy as all fuck. so it's a disaster, especially with raphael and simon's superspeed and strength thrown into the mix, and meliorn's almost impossible to hold back mischievous nature. izzy is lowkey responsible for keeping them in check and okay now that i think about it clary might have helped simon's family build it before, especially when she was a kid because kids just love that shit, but i don't know if she would remember the steps tbh (read: she wouldn't remember the steps) so yeah all in all the sukkah falls down more often than not and they might have to replace a few materials when simon and raphael accidentally snap their bamboo poles in half. rip

meliorn is probably all like "you are all weak and pathetic, i am a seelie, i can literally control living things. simon needs a vegetable covering? watch me get all the nearby trees to form a beautiful roof" and simon is like "actually the sechach cannot be alive" and meliorn slowly dies because they have no power over dead nature. also simon forbids magic usage in general because this needs to be an authentic building experience for him, so meliorn is left as the most useless one since they only have experience building these things using magic and the help of the trees or whatever

also i bet they would love to go EXTREMELY hard on the lights and decorations. i know that hassidic and to my understanding general orthodox jewish communities don't decorate the sukkah but i don't hc simon as part of those communities so i think he would want to decorate the sukkah. like even if it isn't fully covered in decorations, he would want what few he has to be well done, you know what i mean? like he would want to make the holiday posters himself (i dont know if it would be appropriate for clary to help make these but if it would, she totally would and i like the idea of simon giving her a very specific prompt to make the posters and clary doing it for him, you know? and maybe them all helping paint it with colorful themes), making decorations, and okay, at the very least fairy lightning? please? come on. it's another whole ass dramatic experience to get electricity in there so that's fun for sure, but i think meliorn and maia in particular would be all over the idea of making a pretty lightning system, and simon is definitely not gonna complain because he loves pretty things and the idea sounds rad. raphael smiles fondly through it all and basically saves the day by being the only one with organizational skills who is actually able to help them make a working plan for the sukkah

(catch these idiots making a blueprint. TRY and tell me they wouldn't)

(every year they make a new blueprint and the sukkah has different designs and proportions - always following the requirements like having four at least 32 inches tall walls, of course - and they start completely anew. the sechach must always be new but not the general structure, but they redo the structure anyway because again, it's fun)

and then of course they have meals together in the sukkah for the duration of sukkot and just idk i really dig the idea of the lot of them holding trays of food wearing oven mitts as they get inside and turn on the lights and it feels really nice and sweet you know? and then of course promptly turns kind of messy because it's their way but that's what they want. also, at least once a year they manage to sneak becca in for a meal with simon in the sukkah and they are just both so happy and aaaaa :')

and that's how "kidnapping" becca so she can see simon and his sukkah becomes another tradition lmao. they do it in the most dramatic full of flair way they possibly can while still not being found out and then promptly tell simon all about it in the most dramatic and exaggerated retelling during the meal, which always makes both simon and becca laugh (reality: becca just told her parents she would be off for a few hours to do some school thing or something and then they picked her up and she got a superspeed piggyback ride so she and simon wouldn't miss a minute. their story: "it all began with a carefully planted lie,")

there's also pesach which many (reform) jewish friends of mine have told me they like to do with goyim because the whole point of that holiday is to welcome strangers and share jewish history, so i think simon would like to do that as well. so yeah i think simon would enjoy having them with him during the Pesach Seder - again i think simon would want to be with his other jewish friends but it would be fun because they all could bring their pet goyim that they know would be respectful and nice to have around, run the Seder, and celebrate with them. also for their first one i think simon would have gotten excited about explaining the order/15 steps to them, so like cue lots of fond looks as simon tells them everything about it, how this is the first time he'll be able to have the feast, the four cups of wine, and how he's excited even to have the bitter herbs again. and then over the years they all become pretty much used to the 15 steps, they come naturally, they know what to expect, they already know the story of the Exodus after retelling it every year, and it's nice both when it's new and he gets to share and when it starts to be something in their element because it became their tradition and they want to be there with simon for the holidays, you know what i mean?

then there's purim!!!!!!!! god they would sure have so much fun on purim it gets me really excited to think about. purim might be the one that they get to participate the most in from what i've seen, and i have lots of thoughts about it, like:

first of all, making hamantaschen!! they each make a batch with a different stuffing and it's lowkey a competition and lowkey a surprise and as always with cooking together it is very fun and homey. and also kind of silly as they usually are, but purim is a holiday that is kind of supposed to be silly and for ppl to let go so it matches that mood, you know what i mean? like they're all covered in flour and "stop trying to LOOK at what i'm making!" and blind testing and stuff

then, food gifts! so from what i've seen it is preferable that the food gifts jewish ppl send each other on purim are sent by a third party, which is usually a kid, but they don't know many kids and i really like the idea of the polycule serving as simon's messengers for the day lmao. going everywhere round the shadow world and beyond ("hey mel since you can portal i have this friend in argentina-") and then bringing him the other gifts people send simon in return :)

dressing up in costumes! there is absolutely no way simon doesn't dress up for purim and the whole polycule is absolutely dragged into it, including an absolutely reluctant raphael. it quickly becomes a tradition tho that they change costumes every year and try to make them funnier and more outrageous (as you do) as time goes by. trust the polycule to turn pretty much everything into a competition. and simon always laughs with so much glee and joy when he gets to see what everyone dresses up as so really, how could they say no?

(maia "wins", like, every year. she is totally huge on costumes and her and simon are very attuned in that sense, so, you know. catch her dressing up as memes and just generally making the most creative costumes. she may or may not think them months and months ahead of time)

maybe they hold purim meals with particularly themed costumes every once in a while when they want to spice it up, but i think generally it's more of a freestyle thing

simon also loves reading the purim torah tbh, it's just fun. and then of course there's the megillah and booing when haman's name is mentioned. they are all banned from using graggers because half of them have superstrength and the other half doesn't technically have superstrength but is still super strong and they destroyed the poor thing on accident after the first ten seconds when they tried

food yay! and the very long meal. they usually get pretty drunk, tbh, at least the ones that can. and just generally i think it's one of their favorite celebrations to do together and more often than not ends in them all curled up together in the couch so u know, that's sweet uwu

and then of course rosh hashanah, which is the holiest joyous day in jewish tradition, so of course it's a huge deal for them all. and i just think they would all be super excited about making the evening (especially the meal ofc) the most incredible for simon it could possibly be. again i think simon would want to spend it with his downworlder jewish friends and community, and they probably have their own synagogue they go to together and everything, so obviously they are all involved in making preparations for rosh hashanah, but i like to think the polcyule and simon's friends' pet goyim would help with what they can as well (provided it's not something that should be done by a jewish person like baking the challah; but if not with cooking, they would at least want to help with stuff like decorations and the like. honestly i imagine all of simon's partners sitting together very seriously with a paper in front of them writing down all the stuff they can do to help with rosh hashanah preparations and everything. especially once they learn that like being happy/joyous is a mitzvah so they're just like "we want to make u as happy as possible then :)" and it's sweet and simon may or may not tear up a little)

and then we have other holidays that aren't associated with religion like halloween, which was kind of implied to be the official downworld holiday, so i'm pretty sure they go big on that too. not dressing up because again, one day where they can all afford to be themselves, but definitely meeting up at the hunter's moon, getting spectacularly drunk, roasting the mundane's costumes, and then once they get back to whichever of them's homes, watching some shitty movies and throwing stuff at the screen together

i'm on the fence about día de muertos. i know it's not exactly a sad holiday but i feel like it is for raphael because it kind of represents everything he's lost - his culture and his family, and he can't even go to the parade during the day, you know, although i'm not sure that would have been his thing, but i do think he would have loved to watch the arrival of the monarchs when he was a kid but he'd have to be in méxico for that. and particularly after he lost rosa i just feel like it would have been so emotionally charged for him, you know? he would definitely make her an altar every year and it would be just... big and well thought-out and something really emotional and important for him, welcoming his little sister back the best he can. and i feel like that's something he'd want to do alone because my boy loves to punish himself

but there are little things i think they would have wanted to do with him, and that they might push a little to be able to, like being with him while he eats by the altar and hearing him tell stories about rosita. and i think they would help him "undo" (?) the altar once día de muertos is over, which is always extra emotional for him and aaa. and then the next day they kind of just get to be with him and cuddle a little bit as he recovers emotionally, you know?

also it has just occured to me that raphael is christian shit fuck fart bitch cock. so okay i guess that puts xmas and easter somewhat on the map? again mostly for food. us latinos celebrate xmas on the eve, not on xmas day, and raphael is totally the insufferable xmas meal obsessed bitch who's on the kitchen all day and refuses to let anyone help (he can't pull that particular stunt for the meals they have for simon's holidays obviously but he can on xmas soo). but it's worth it because it is always a great one. and he also gives a lot of thought into getting everyone presents so that is sweet and it earns him lots of kisses on the cheek and stuff. and that's pretty much it for latino xmas, we don't really do stuff i'm still not convinced gringos haven't made up like the socks and the eggnog and xmas music (????) so it's more lowkey. and i think raphael would keep the more religious aspects of it to the stuff he does at church (again, there are downworlder religious communities idk what to tell u) and for the nursery home. which is not to say that like... oh wow xmas is totally not a xtian holiday! or whatever, just that the version the polycule does is more lowkey on the religious aspects and the things they do together on that day are more about being together with raphael on a day that matters to him, you know, especially since again, he is the only xtian and that's gonna be a sensitive thing for simon especially

and i think for easter it is mostly something they do to shower maia in sweets lmao. again she misses chocolate and i'm sure they spend a lot of their time trying to figure out how to get around that, either be by like trying to make special chocolate that doesn't make her sick or sweets that really really resemble chocolate or that are so good she doesn't even mind that she can't eat chocolate anymore. so that's their tradition for easter (and raphael goes to church ofc)

oh yeah and i forgot valentine's day! i have this funny little idea just for the shits where they have this little thing where they setup one-on-one dates for all the parts that are actually together and each of them lasts, like, 10 minutes (poor maia who dates everyone is just running around town) and it's more about the fun of running around from one day to the other like this is a bad romcom where some bastard is trying to juggle having two (monog) girlfriends at once. but then they actually get all together at the end of the day and trade presents and funny cards both among their dates and metamours ("roses are red, violets are blue, you're my girlfriend's girlfriend, and i love you platonically"). usually ending up with them drunk and debating how exactly they got to this overly complicated arrangement and trying to figure out the best way to explain this to an outsider and trying to make, like, fluxograms that explain all of their different relationships visually and they all look so messy it just leaves them more confused lmao. so yeah it's fun

and i think that's all i've got? i say, as if this answer isn't longer than anyone will have the time to read and took me over 4 months to write. but anyway

a special thanks to "a group where non-jews can ask questions about judaism and jews can answer" on facebook and all my jewish friends for helping me write about the jewish holidays and customs. i also used the following sources: Rosh Hashanah (link), how to build the sukkah (link), more on the sukkah (link), how to celebrate purim (link), more on purim (link), how to celebrate passover (link), what is a passover seder like (link), laws of yom tov (link), yom kippur (link), what to eat before and after yom kippur (link), a classic yom kippur breakfast menu (link), menus for the pre yom kippur meal (link). if there's anything inaccurate or disrespectful, however, please let me know, and feel free to add more ideas as well if you're jewish :)

[changbin-froggy-jimin]

Heartbreak House (Mafia!Namjoon X Reader)

Summary: Mafia boss Kim Namjoon has stolen your heart. He was your first love and kept you safe no matter the cost, but suddenly he throws you to the curb. No reason given except that fact that he's completely over you and that it's time for you to go.

Soft hearts get you killed, but Namjoon's heart is only soft for you and his closest men. He knows he messed up big time, can he fix it before it's to late? 

(The story is better than the description, it’s just been so long since I’ve written one)

Pairings: Namjoon X Reader, Kinda Yoongi & Jimin

Tags: Angst Angst Angst, But! With a happy ending, Mafia boss Namjoon, Discussions of mental health, Dissociation, Break up/Post-break up, 2nd person pov, And Reader (you) is kept gender neutral.

Word Count: 5.5k

Oh! also reader is referred to with Angel as opposed to Y/N

"You were stupid if you thought this was ever truly going to last"

His words sting, tears build up in your eyes despite you not giving them permission to do so. You shouldn't have gotten attached you knew it, but you couldn't help it. Namjoon was dangerous, more dangerous than anyone you have ever met before, but he was also so sweet with you. How were you not supposed to fall for him?

"I- I thought-"

"You thought wrong. Now leave"

This man was your first kiss, your first... everything. How could you have been so stupid.

"Joon what happened? We can work on it, wherever it is, I just don't understand where this is coming from?"

You're met with silence. Where was this coming from? You had known Namjoon for almost three years, and had spent the last two in a relationship. And yeah finding out the well dressed man was actually a mob boss had been quite the surprise but as long as you kept your head down you had never minded. He always told you business got left at the door step and never once had that not been true so you let it go. If you were eventually caught up in some kind of sting they wouldn't have anything on you so you really didn't have a reason to be scared. And you knew above anything else that Joonie would protect you with his life and he had even done so before. The most recent of his scars, one that sat right above his eyebrow, was a testament to the promise he has made you. So whatever attitude change this was... Wherever this mood swing came from you honestly didn't know.

You try to wrack your brain for something he could be upset about but come up with almost nothing. You follow the rules set in place for you to stay here, you don't cause undue trouble for yourself or anyone else here. Sometimes you could be loud or annoying but that wasn't against the rules and most of the time it was encouraged by those around you.

Most of the time Joon was never angry but especially around you. Yeah, he had a big of a harsh image. Most people who knew him, knew him as heartless. His kindness is what surprised you most once you actually learned who he was past the first initial meeting one crisp October afternoon.

You had seen him looking quite lost outside of the shop you worked in, and had pulled him inside. He was charming and kind, and asked you for directions, stating he was lost and was just looking for help. He ended up staying for a lot longer then you both thought he would, finding the conversation easy and light. At the end of the night as you were closing up, having no idea where the time went, he had asked if he could see you again. You really had no reason to say no, so you didn't. Later he told you he was hiding from the cops and needed a good cover, but that you had been the best cover he had found yet.

You refused to believe that everything you felt, everything you knew he felt was fake as well. You knew he had moments, moments where this harsh side of him came out, he told you about it before. But you had never seen it for yourself. If this was what it felt like to be on the bad side of Kim Namjoon... You didn't even want to think about it. You just want your Joonie back.

"I had your things packed for you. They'll be at your apartment around noon." When did your boyfriend start to sound so dead inside?

"What are you talking about? I haven't lived there for at least a year. This is my home!"

"Not anymore it. Now leave, or I'll have someone make you." It was so cold. So absolutely lacking of any of the warmth you were so used to. More tears fell down your cheeks.

Maybe it was just a mood, maybe something happened, you just couldn't believe it was over... Just like that with no real reason. You know he always makes good on his promises. No matter how much you screamed and yelled, no matter if it ended with someone three times your size coming and physically moving you, it would still end with you leaving. And you were not interested in someone moving you like a child. It's not like you wanted to cause that big of a scene outside of these doors either. So you head for the door, there's just nothing else you can do at the moment. The shock from this whole situation confusing you more than anything.

You rest your hand on the door frame, slightly turning back to him. Hoping that somehow, some time he'd tell you it was all a mistake, he didn't mean it and he'd pull you back into his arms and hold you like he did only hours ago.

But he didn't. He said nothing and started to read the papers that were left for him on his desk. He glanced over at you just about the rim of his reading glasses that he must have put on while you were turned.

"Leave" and so you did, not sparing another glance to the man who you thought had cherished your heart.

Several days later, it's Yoongi who walks through Namjoon's door. Disappointment and longing hit Namjoon, dashed hopes of someone else walking through the door feels like a tangible weight in his heart. Namjoon sets aside his emotions like he always has, ready to talk about updates on the arms shipment they were hoping to intercept. Except he knows the look Yoongi is giving him, and that look means trouble. Namjoon and Yoongi have known each other since they were just kids causing trouble on the streets. This is the face his oldest friend makes when he's about to cause trouble and knows he can get away with it because Joon has a soft spot for him.

"Save it" He turns back to his work, not at all interested in what Yoongi has to say.

Yoongi meanders around the room, taking loud steps and overall doing his best to annoy the man at the desk.

"What do you want?" Namjoon says, more annoyed at the pacing then anything else.

"Thought I should 'Save it'. Are you really flip flopping so easily? You know that's not a good look for us right? Makes us look sloppy, like we don't do our due diligence." Yoongi comes to a short stop in front of the desk, tapping his nails without any set rhythm, before continuing his trek around the room. Picking up any objects that piqued his interest and setting them back upside down or facing the wrong direction.

"Yoongi..." The Namjoon says, sighing like he had the whole world on his shoulders. How sad for him.

"I just find it interesting because just last week you called every single crew member into a meeting in which you said that, and I quote, 'Angel 'Wasn't going to leave anytime soon' and anyone that didn't treat 'Your precious darling' with respect was going to feel your wrath. So when's your execution appointment Namjoon?" Yoongi leans against a bookshelf near the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Letting the words sink in. And sink they do.

"It's not safe here Yoongi and we both know it. My Angel is better off without me, and better off not being here."

Yoongi pauses at that. Taking a second to think this 'revelation' over. It just struck him as... Wrong. How was everything fine last week and a mess this one?

"What are you talking about? It's safe here. There's at least 50 armed guards at any given moment and that's just outside. Your 'Angel' is always with someone you trust and never wanders off alone, and we both know that everyone would die to keep them safe. Not even just you and me, everyone. Anyone who tried something would be put down with more bullet holes than you could count."

"That doesn't matter. One wrong move and we'd have to clean up another body. Do you want to deal with that on your conscience? Knowing that one of ours got killed trying to keep Angel safe? It's not our crew's jobs to keep our lovers safe."

Yoongi scoffs at that. It's exactly what he thought. Somewhere in the recesses off Namjoon's brain still lives the scared kid who's so afraid of losing people that he just pushes them away. Yoongi didn't let Namjoon push him away and he absolutely wouldn't let him do it to the obvious love of his life.

"You did this to save your own skin, none of this was to save our crew and we both know it. You caught feelings and heartless Kim Namjoon couldn't deal with the aftermath, so you push everyone away and then you don't have to deal with your emotions do you?" Irritation drips from every word and he states it as fact because he knows it is. Knows it'll hurt to hear. He hopes it wakes the idiot out of his stupor. For someone so intelligent he can be an absolute idiot.

Namjoon's body tenses at Yoongi's words, trying to hold the anger back and not lash out like he so desperately wanted to.

"Think very carefully about what you're going to say next"

"What? You gonna throw me out with the next trash cycle just like you did with your 'Angel'. Real heartwarming."

The Namjoon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, fists clenched and jaw set.  Yoongi knows well enough by now that if he doesn't want to be burnt after playing with fire its time for him to go. Yoongi pushes off the bookshelf, heads towards the door instead.

Yoongi pauses in the doorway, hand on the same place Angel's was, the visual doesn't help Namjoon try to forget.

"Fix it, Namjoon, before its to late Otherwise, you'll destroy yourself and end up in that dark pit again." He wants to say more, wants to dive more into the meat of the issue, but it's just not who they are. So he closes the door behind him and hopes that his boss figures it out himself.

The door lightly slams behind him. Inside Namjoon realizes the truth in what Yoongi said.

Namjoon takes out the painkillers, a headache coming on.

Outside the door Jimin waits.

"Did you get through to him? Will he fix it?" Angel's bodyguard, well, ex-bodyguard is practically bouncing off the walls with nerves. It's not at all how any of them should be acting, but Yoongi figures none of them really act like they're supposed to anymore. He throws a comforting hand on the kids head; it's enough to shock him out of the bouncing.

"I don't know, but I hope so." He fluffs the kids hair a bit. Jimin sputters at the action, pulling away in a huff to fix his hair. Yoongi chuckles as he watches the other.

"Let's go get something to eat, huh, take your mind off it for a bit."

Jimin's face goes from annoyed to shocked in a second, no doubt remembering when Yoongi was more likely to shoulder check him then even say hi. It's splits into one of those wide grins that only Jimin can pull off which makes Yoongi's heart flutter.

"Ok!"

Yoongi wraps his arm around the other mans shoulder to pull him towards the parking lot so he doesn't have to look directly at that smile anymore. The kid starts rambling on and on about what he's been doing recently, always glancing back to make sure Yoongi is still paying attention to him. Yoongi hangs off of every word even if he doesn't show it.

When did he become so soft?

The first month back at your old apartment was the worst. You were so used to visiting the complex that to not be there constantly was a big shock to your system. It didn't help that you were all alone. Joon didn't always have time to spend with you but someone always kept you company. Most of the time you went to hang out with Jimin where Hobi worked in the makeshift infirmary, making jokes about the organs and blood while Hobi stitched back up their lower ranking members. He didn't mind you two being there as long as you both kept a respectful distance and weren't to loud, If you were, it only resulted in Hobi just lightly scolding you guys and continuing his work without missing a beat. You and Jimin would just laugh a bit quieter and whisper for a few minutes before turning back to a more normal volume.

The reactions to your teasing were usually just the patient on the table grimacing but not saying anything as they knew they couldn't without significant repercussions. The last guy who complained was made into a spectacle, and while you did feel kinda bad about it, he did call you a "Disgusting whore who was only there for the money". So, you weren't really crying over his loss. The rest, who had a good sense of humor tended to laugh at the jokes and sounds of disgust, this actually annoyed Hobi more as he kinda needed his patients to be still on the operation table and not shaking from holding back laughter. If the injury was serious enough he might have kicked you both out but you would just go down the hall to where Jungkook was most likely playing a game and join him instead. Plus, it actually helped morale in the heath center as Hobi tended to stay completely silent and the frowny face he always wore around the lesser ranking members was enough to skin the confidence off any man.

The memories make you smile.

The second month was a bit better, having fallen back into a routine again. You still miss the rest of the crew, and try to avoid thoughts of Joon like the plague, keeping yourself busy by working yourself to the bone. Your boss had thankfully let you come back no issues, apparently the business had fallen a little sideways in your absence.

Months three and four are about the same.

You're doing pretty well if you don't think about the fact that you cry yourself to sleep every night, but really other than that you're honestly great.

Month five hits the worst.

You had gotten sick, so very sick. All the endless overtime having finally caught up to you. Your boss, who was trying to be helpful, had told you to not come in for at least a week. He grateful for your help in getting the business standing on two legs again, and the kind old man had told you to take the proper time to recover. You were able to distract yourself for a while. Keeping yourself from the very thoughts that had haunted you so much these past few months. But the distractions stopped working about day two and things mostly went downhill from there. It took a lot of ice cream to help calm you down. But after spending the whole week on the couch crying you did actually start feeling a bit better. Most days after that week left you feeling lighter and happier then the next. Sometimes you still had bad days, missing your friends who you had really considered family at that point. None of them had come to visit despite promising they would. You just assumed they had forgotten.

So at six months it was a surprise to hear a knock on the door. You knew better than to answer the door to strangers, but that wasn't a strangers knock. It was one of the coded ones that you were taught fairly early on in yours and Joon's relationship. You stupidly didn't check the peephole, hoping it was Jimin who would finally make good on his promise to meet you.

It wasn't.

Instead it was a rain drenched Namjoon holding slightly broken roses as if he had been running with no care for the flowers that he was holding. You didn't even like roses.

The smile instantly dropped from your face. Joon for the most part looked exactly the same, minus the water soaked hair. Suit was still expertly pressed, black metallic hoops still in place, the scar above his eyebrow still not fully grown back.

You try to close the door quickly in order to shut him out. Namjoon's hand flashes in between the door frame and the door itself, adding a leather shoe for good measure.

"Can we please talk?"

You want to say no, everything inside of you is screaming to say no. That this man broke your heart and wasn't worth your time or effort. You're in pajamas, it's pouring out, and your ex of six months has just shown up with the only flowers you've told him you despised.

You open the door.

Namjoon walks in with one of the small smiles you've only ever seen him make at you. It kinda makes you feel sick.

You sit at the small island bar in your kitchen. Namjoon moves as if he is going to sit next to you. You glare at him, putting your feet up on the seat.  He sighs before walking around the island so he can face you. He sets the roses down; the crystal vase shines like diamonds even with the terrible lighting you have in your apartment. No doubt it was stupidly expensive and bought at some famous boutique-y store. How pretentious. You pick out one of the roses, you start peeling away its petals as you wait for Namjoon to find his words. Instead he seems to focus on the stain that's spreading over your fingers from where the petals are being torn apart viciously.

When he doesn't say anything you supply your own commentary. It's the first words you've said to him since he abandoned you almost 6 months ago on the dot.

"I don't like roses."

"Jungkook said they were romantic" He supplies back, as if that would help his situation. Jungkook was a textbook romantic. You on the other hand, were not, or at least not with these cliche flowers.

"And I said I hated them, so you're really racking up points here"

He visibly swallows at that.

"Listen I know I messed up-"

"Messed up huh? You told me I meant nothing to you and that you never wanted to see me again. Then you show up out of the blue with a gift that really makes it look like you didn't even listen to what I told you when we were together."

"I didn't say you meant nothing to me. You're putting words in my mouth."

"Oh I'm putting words in your mouth? How could I? Me?" You grab at your chest for dramatic affect, hoping your words landed as scathingly as you meant them. You knew you were losing all control over your temper in the face of his complete stupidity. The words tumbling out of your mouth from pure anger. "You only viciously kicked me out of our home, packed up all my things and sent me to live by myself with absolutely no rhyme or reason. Abandoning me despite promising that you would never leave me. Forced me to leave all my friends behind and I'm sure, threatened them into not talking to me either. You threw me out without a reason, you held me before turning on me seemingly only two hours later when I left your office because you asked me to! Do you know how many nights I spent crying over you?!" You felt angry tears forming in your eyes. You wipe them quickly, he shouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

"Yes." The reply was small, like it wasn't even meant to be heard. He's not looking at you anymore. Looking at the countertop like it's so much more interesting instead.

"Yes? What do you mean yes?"

"Your apartment has been bugged since we first met."

You groan. "Why did I even like you, you're the absolute worst. Do you know how creepy that is? How horrifying it is to know that you've just been listening to me? That you sat there and thought that you should listen to me crying, not only just crying, because that would be to easy, but me crying over you because you broke my heart."

"Did?" His face fell, not that it has maintained a happy expression since you decided to tear up the roses he brought you right in front of his own face.

You just sigh throwing down the now much more miserable looking rose, ready to just tell him to get out of your apartment and your life, before he surprises you by continuing.

"I couldn't stand not hearing your voice. I thought about you every night and couldn't get your face out of my mind. It was the only way I could keep myself sane. He shuffles in his seat, discomfort etched across his entire face. "Everyday I spent watching the clock, hoping that the day would end knowing that you were going to be getting back from your shifts, and I could finally listen to your voice again. Our room has been so lonely without you. Even if you were crying there was a sick part of me that was just happy you were still thinking about me like I was thinking about you. Open and sore, still bleeding with feelings that you couldn't help but hold onto. I missed you so much. More than I thought one person could miss another."

He takes a breath before continuing, fidgeting in his seat and playing with his fingers. Eyes not meeting yours. "It made me realize how much I love you, and that I can't let you go. How I made the most stupid decision in my life based of fear which then became anger because I was scared I couldn't protect you." He runs his hands roughly through his hair messing up the slicked back look he had been sporting in his rain drenched state. "So I did the only thing I knew how to do. I pushed you away." Namjoon looks up into your face, his eyes wild, and willing you to believe him. "But I swear I never abandoned you. Someone was always with you, watching to make sure you got home safe and no one bothered you. I never once stopped thinking about you. I never once stopped protecting you. I kept my promises even if you didn't see them because I couldn't stand the thought of losing you. Even if you find someone else, I will always be here for you."

"Joon... You still hurt me." You look down, trying to not be swayed by the pain and franticness in his eyes."You still made me feel like everything we were was fake and that I meant nothing to you. How do I know that you won't just throw me away again tomorrow?" Your arms cross over your chest, trying to subconsciously protect yourself from this man who had broken you. "You left me alone for six months and come back and say all this stuff about love and care but you didn't show that to me once then. Now you want to get back together and for me to pretend like what? We're fine and nothing happened? Do you know how much what you did hurt me?" You look up to meet his gaze again. "You obviously spent all that time listening to me crying but never once thought about telling me why you did what you did? Do you know what I would have told you, if you had let me know why you were scared?" You stare him down, hoping that he can feel the pain that's settled in your soul. He looks back into your eyes with all of the emotions he's probably been hiding for months, it spills from him like a fountain. It's enough motivation to continue talking, knowing he was hanging off of every word like he was.

"That you worry about me Joon, but I am never in danger at the complex because of everyone there that respects you and will take care of me because of that. That if anything I'm scared for you every day you leave that office because I never know if you're coming home or not. Because I know it's not safe outside those walls but you spent months making sure I felt comfortable in ours. I knew what I was getting into when we started seriously dating. But I have always trusted you to keep me safe. There has never been doubt in my mind that you will do everything in your power to make sure all seven of us stay safe. Fearing for each other's lives was just going to be our normal but we both knew that. We both signed up for this knowing that. How could you just let that go?"

"I started slipping."

That... wasn't good.

"Joon... What happened?" You knew about his past, his history. That because of all the horrible things that Namjoon had to deal with, sometimes he would just go into a disassociate states. It's when he was his most destructive, most volatile. It was something you had only heard of and had never seen with your own eyes. Mainly heard from hushed whispers from the crew.

"It was bad this time. Someone broke into the complex. I got scared. More scared then I've ever been in my life and the switch just flipped back on. I couldn't feel anything. So I started doing what I always do when I get like that. I started problem solving, and the biggest problem was you, there wasn't anything else in that complex that I cared about more than you." His face scrunched up with pain, before evening out into something so sorrowful it stole the breath from your lungs. Everything about him seemed so small all of the sudden. Like all the air he used to puff himself up with, caused him to pop like a miserable balloon. "In my head it was like if I just got rid of you then everything would go back to normal and I could go back to not feeling so small and helpless. So that's what I did, even if it seemed like everything that was happening, was happening to someone else. Watching you listen to those words, what I was saying, felt like it was somewhere else, that I was someone else and it wasn't real. Nothing felt real..." He sighs deeply, rubbing his face like it could remove the bad memories before continuing.

"It took Yoongi coming in and telling me off, as much as I didn't want to hear, it for everything to finally click. That I had messed up, big time, and needed to fix it. But I knew that mindset was still lurking, that it could come back and hurt you accidentally." All of the sudden, his face breaks out into a sad smile. His eyes start to shimmer with tears. "So I went to therapy." He laughs out his confession. It feels fantastical, the way he spoke it,  like he didn't actually expect that it would work at all before making himself serious again. "I actually sat down with a therapist and talked about my issues, that's why it took so long to come back to you. I had to know it was safe, to know that I couldn't hurt you like I did before. To know how to deal with all of those feelings in a healthy way. I didn't want to make it worse so I just waited, waited everyday to make sure I could keep you as safe as possible, listened to you laugh, and sing, and cry, every night to remind myself to keep it together, and that I was doing this to make sure you would never cry again. That I wouldn't ever make you cry again. I'm sorry it took me so long to come back to you Angel." His body seems to relax with the confession, as if he had finally gotten the burden off that was holding him back.

"Do you know how bad that hurts to hear?" You were torn up. You thought he had... That he had abandoned you? Thought you were left for dead only to find out he did something so out of character of anything you thought he would ever do. It took him months to start opening up to you! You can't even imagine him going to someone to talk about his emotions.

"Then give me the chance to learn."

"Joon-"

"Please. I promise I'll treat you right this time. I'll take you on all the dates you want. We can go to the food stalls and get the greasy food you love so much; we can even go feed the ducks at the park; it doesn't matter how disgustingly domestic. I just don't want to be without you anymore. Please. I'm sorry." He let's out a curse before wiping away his own tears that had gathered in his eyes. Namjoon isn't one to beg, you don't think you've heard him say please once in the entire two years you've known him.

You sigh, you know his character, knows he means what he's said. But you also trusted him to mean it before.

You could feel all of your anger leaving, instead in its place was the want to have your old relationship back. The one where you both snuck Jungkook's console out of his room and played games till you couldn't keep your eyes open. Or when he would take you out to see the stars on the rooftop of one of his buildings, complete with a picnic and a stupid live band. The one where when you found out your mom passed and he held you while you cried for days, holing you both up inside his office and not going to any of his important meetings to make sure you were ok. The one where you brought him breakfast in bed but he didn't even eat it just pulled you into the bed for more cuddles. You missed it, there's nothing on this planet you missed more.

You wanted to believe him. More than anything you did.

"I don't know if I can trust you Joon. You absolutely broke my heart and it took me so long to get over you. I'm not even sure I really am..."

"Let me prove it to you. How serious I am about this. I'm more serious about this then I ever have been about anything else in my life. Please believe me Angel."

You cover your face with both hands, trying to rub away the actual emotion from showing. Hands grab your writs, pulling them gently away from your face. He was so much closer than he was a minute ago. He leans in and you don't stop him. His lips meet your tentatively, fully expecting you to pull away but you don't. You pull him in closer trying to make up for all the time you've spent apart. You had missed him so much, missed this, how soft he was with you. That despite what he chose to do as a profession he always held you like you were fragile, like if he held you to hard, you were going to break. And he had broken you, but he came back to put together the pieces and promised to do better, and you would hold him to that.

You pull back from the kiss, resting your forehead on his.

"The minute you pull something like that again I'm leaving and I'm never coming back."

"I know.  But I won't give you another reason to."

"You better not." You intend it to come out with malice but it just sounds relived. "Now come here, I've missed you so much." If the kiss was desperate the hug seems starved, Namjoon repeats 'Thank you Angel' while kissing the top of your head. You're just happy to feel his warmth again even if the hugging is a bit awkward due to you still sitting.

If he was serious about this, and you knew he was, you would fit back together. Something about him just pulled you in and it was hard to ignore. He was one of the sweetest and kindest people you had ever met. No one just does what he did not only for you, but for the six other men he considered family if he didn't truly have a heart. And you really had missed him just as much as he had clearly missed you. You wouldn't mind spending the rest of your life in his arms, even if the pieces are shattered right now and he'd really have to prove you could trust him again. You really want it to work, for both of your sakes.

[jack-is-lost]

PATCHES & PINS (CH 2)

A/N: This story revolves around a transgender, female to male, original character. LGBTQ+ topics are a given within this story. Gender and body dysphoria will come up as well since he is not out to his family — only close friends. If you dislike such a story premise please understand you do not have to interact with it at all. Leaving hate comments will be removed. Of course, constructive feedback is always welcomed.   Pairing: Eventually Marko x OTMC Story is still in progress and updates will be slow Eventually it will be posted on A03 once I’m a few chapters in

Chapter one | Currently on Chapter two | Chapter 3 coming soon.

Chapter two

“Stayed up late again, didn’t you?” Jay groaned into the couch cushions as Tyler braced his weight on the back of it to peer down at his gremlin of a sister. “With a sleep schedule like this, you might be able to snag an overnight job at the store.”

Tyler received another mumbling mess for a response, but he knew the telltale answer. It was always the same; ‘Don’t wanna’ or ‘No time’.

“C’mon, Jay,” he shook the couch, the motion of it getting her to roll over at least and look up at him. “You know it’s a good idea. You’ll be turning eighteen soon, and you have no job history under your belt.” 

“Ty…” Jay sighed out, searching for strength. “I know that, of course. It’s just—”

“—No, no, none of the ifs, ands, and buts, Jay.” He cut his sister off, arms crossing. Sometimes it was like Tyler was trying to be the father figure. Not that they were missing one by any means. “It is the summer. A good time to work a temporary job, at least.” Jay sat up and ran fingers through unruly hair, trying to calm it down. “Fine, I’ll walk around a bit and put applications in, okay?” Anything to get you off my ass, Jay added silently. “Head over to the market.” Came the simple reply, but a smile was there nonetheless. They both knew the store was always looking for overnight stockers. It was the job Tyler worked at for the longest time before getting a spot at the town's mechanic shop. “Will do. Now, let me lay here in peace, please, or make a pot of coffee.” Tyler rolled his eyes dramatically but didn’t say anything snide. Instead, he headed for the kitchen to wash the pot out and start a new batch. Their parents wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, both working afternoon shifts, and Jay could lay about till then. “Oh, by the way,” Tyler called out from the kitchen. “I changed the laundry over to the dryer while you were napping.” Jay peered over the couch at the words and into the adjacent room, staring at his back with big eyes. “And you might want to hide your newly bought jeans from mom.” Oh, yeah, he definitely saw the giant tear in the knee. Jay slid down into the cushions face first, groaning once more. 

Shit. . . . “Edgar!” he hollered out while stepping into the comic shop from the cooling night air. A rustling noise, a sound of a box hitting the ground, greeted Jay before a head popped up over the counter. “What’s the deal, man,” Edgar grumbled out before ducking back down. Obviously startled by the sudden outburst and now irritated at picking up inventory from the floor. “The deal?” Jay stopped at the counter, plopping his bag there to unzip it. “You left my ass at the cemetery, and—” he pulled out the jeans, “— my pants tore because of you.” Edgar stood up straight to look at the clothing, quickly noticing a nice long gash in the overall pristine trousers. “I wasn’t wearing them so how is it my fault?”

“Don’t,” Jay glared and was ready to explain the reasoning when Alan walked out from the back. He looked equally exhausted. “I’ll fix them.” He spoke up while coming to a stop next to his brother. “Why? It adds character.” “Shut up, Ed.” Alan grabbed the clothing and slung it over his shoulder. It was clear to him that Jay was avoiding trouble. They looked new, and Alan knew how much their parents were strikingly different. If any of their clothes tore, it was no problem — hardly even noticed by their stoned-out mom and dad. Jay’s parents, however, that was another story. “Thanks, man.” “Wear something more worn out next time,” Edgar muttered while bending down to pick up the box to continue his work. “Next time?” Jay followed the brother along the counter, stepping up behind Edgar as he walked into an aisle. “I’m not doing a ‘next time’.” 

One time was enough. “Look,” the boy turned to face him, a scowl already present, but when wasn't it? “You made it out with no trouble, right? Didn’t get caught, right?” Jay eyed him, not sure where this was going. “...Yeah?” “Then why stop? You need the practice to become a proper hunter.” “Ed—” “—Edgar.” Jay rolled his head along his shoulders, “Point is," he breathed out. "I never wanted to be a hunter.” This made Edgar’s brows lift with speculation. “Then why read so much about monster-bashing?”

“I…” Jay started then shoved his hands into his jacket, turning away, “Forget it. I’ll be back tomorrow to grab my jeans.” He needed a break from these two. Jay headed outside of the establishment, almost scrapping shoulders with a customer while storming out, but he didn't care. It was hard for Jay to explain his mere interest in folklore. It wasn’t to go on make-believe hunting sprees, not at all. Supernatural shit didn’t even exist — it was all made up for entertainment, nothing else. Blindly Jay walked down the boardwalk, heading out toward the shopping district further into town. His gaze was more on the ground or sky than straight ahead of him, asking any deities up there to give him some internal strength. He really needed it. Jay hated job hunting, avoided it even. It was just another group of people calling him female pronouns and using his full name — where legal paperwork spoke volumes over him. And the uniforms — they would no doubt show off what little curves Jay constantly made a point to hide, and he hated it. A bump against his shoulder went unaddressed. Jay could care less and didn’t even look back to apologize. It wasn’t until the person spoke up that he even gave pause. “What?” Jay asked while turning around, catching the sight of a genuine smile. “I said, ‘you look better with no mud’.” It was the guy from the cemetery. ( Marko’s POV )

“Thanks?” the voice was soft, if not a little uneasy. Marko shrugged, “No problem. Where were you headin’?” “Oh,” Marko watched the other turn back toward their previous destination. Off in the distance, the shopping district lit up the night sky. If one squinted, they could even see the big, bold neon sign for the market. “Was about to, um,” Marko lifted his brow while waiting. “Put in an application?” “You don’t seem so sure about that?” He asked while holding back a smirk. “Because I’m not?” Again it was said like a question. “Let me guess,” Marko chuckled. “You’d prefer not to work? What are you, a party animal or something?” That received a good laugh. “Fuck, no. Do I look like a frat boy to you?” Marko took the question like an invitation and openly swept his gaze over the one standing before him. Short hair with the sides faded, a hoodie beneath a jacket — how many layers does one need during summer nights — faded jeans, and sneakers. “Ah, nope.” He popped the ‘P’ sound after a second of staring. “I’d say you look more like a guy who…” he hummed in thought, really trying to find the right words. “—Like someone who’d probably fall asleep at a movie theater?” Marko feigned shock, a hand grabbing at his chest. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?” “Nope,” this time he popped the ‘P’ sound. “With all that loud sound effects and shit?” Marko received a nod without hesitation. “Okay,” he drew out the sound, ”How ‘bout horror movies? You cannot tell me you’d sleep through all that noise?” Boring romance movies and dry comedy was one thing, but slasher flicks was another — surely. It took a moment to reply, and Marko watched as the other’s face scrunched up in thought. The answer came in the form of a shrug, “Can’t say I’ve tried that, exactly.” Without a second thought, Marko grabbed the teen’s wrist — like he did last night, and headed in an entirely new direction. “Whoa— whoa, where’s the rush, my dude?” “Child’s Play just came out, and I am taking your ass to the movies.” “You are what?” The voice behind him laughed. “I don’t even know your name, and you’re taking me on a date?” Marko looked over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. “The names Marko.”

( Jay’s POV ) Jay stared at the back of his head while being guided toward The Sash Mill Cinema. Was this normal? Everything felt natural around this guy, and it left Jay feeling a little baffled. Marko didn’t even bat an eye at the lame joke. He didn’t think I was serious about it, did he?  He stood beside the other while Marko paid for tickets. He didn’t even comment about it when the other ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two fat sodas. It wasn’t until they plopped down inside the semi-lit room, waiting for the movie even to start, when Marko spoke up again. He looked completely at home, too, with boots resting upon the seat in front of him. “So, do I get the courtesy of your name too?” “Oh, uh, it’s Jay.” His gaze fell to the popcorn in his lap, where Marko had placed it once sitting down. “I could have pitched in some, y’know?” “Don’t worry about it, man. Besides,” he reached for a handful of popcorn, a boot resituating to lean across the other. “How could I expect a jobless teen to pay for something?” The words didn’t have any heat to them, but Jay still gave a side-eye-glare. “I had some cash on me.” “Then you get to pay for dinner afterwards.” The comeback was quick. Does he even think before speaking, Jay wondered. “If that’s the plan then I hope you dig pizza.” “Pizza’s good, yeah.” Marko agreed as the room around them dimmed, the movie starting. “Shh — don’t want to piss off paid customers.” he snickered. Jay looked around the theater and noticed a handful of people here and there. It wasn’t overly crowded, which was surprising for a Saturday, but still full enough. With that in mind, Jay didn’t make any comments as the screen lit up and began playing, fingers blindly grabbing some popcorn.  It wasn’t even three minutes into the film when Marko chuckled under his breath. Jay glanced at him then back at the screen, trying to figure out how getting shot in the chest was meant to be funny. He didn’t have to wonder long as Marko leaned closer to him, voice quiet. “You’d think he would have ducked after shooting. He did it multiple times before that. And the blood, what did he do? Stick his hand into paint?” Marko leaned away again to sip his soda. Jay smiled a little. He guessed it could be kind of funny when thinking outside of the movie. “Did he just blow up the entire shop by chanting?” “Holy shit, he did!” “Shhh!” A couple a few seats behind them grumbled. Marko simply flipped them off without even looking.  And that’s how the whole film went. Marko, trying to keep his laughter to a minimum as a toy doll went on a murdering spree and Jay, almost choking on popcorn from it all. Not once did he feel bored enough to pass out. . . . As they walked out of the theater, Jay bumped against Marko’s shoulder, glad that their height wasn’t much different. Being short always bugged Jay since most men seemed tall, bulky. It was another image he couldn’t be or attain. The motion of being bumped was answered with an arm draped across Jay’s shoulder. “You didn’t fall asleep even once. I’d say that is a point for me, zero for you.” Marko smirked as they shuffled together near the closest pizza establishment, a little family-owned gig near the theater. “Are we keeping points here, really?” Jay smiled back. “Remind me next time.” Marko chuckled lightly as his hand slid down to give a slap to Jay’s back before dropping altogether. “Oh, next time you say?” he pulled open the door wide enough a family of four could have walked through. “You think you’re lucky enough to get a second date?” Jay rolled his eyes as he stepped inside the shop, the smell of breadsticks and pizza hitting his senses like a brick wall. “Still on about the whole date comment, aren't you?” “I don’t see why not,” he simply said while stopping at the cashier, “Or you saying I’m not hot enough to date?” Again his words held no real malice to them, just a light inquisitive tone. Jay eyed him for a moment before the girl behind the counter spoke up, drawing him to make a decision. At the mention of the buffet being half off, Marko boastfully announced his opinion before already hitting the line of food. It left little room to argue, and Jay paid for the price, pocketing the remaining bills in his back pocket. He grabbed the cups offered by her as she popped her gum. “How’d you snag a hottie like him, gal?” her hand propped up her chin as she leaned against the counter, gaze not even on Jay as she asked. Who, at the pronoun, bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t tell if her words were honest wonderment or layered with less positivity than her brightly colored wristbands. “None of your business.” “Sheesh, snobby much?” She rolled her eyes nice and slow before turning her attention to the staff working in the backroom.  Jay didn’t see a reason to correct her. Not for implying his gender or calling him a snob. It didn’t matter much, anyway. Family, teachers — they all used them. It was an uphill battle that Jay stalled by sitting at the bottom. The Frog brothers were different, and Sam figured it out without any help by tagging along with them. It was a safe little corner for Jay to be in, even if a little crazy. He walked the buffet, grabbing a slice of pepperoni and some garlic sticks, even after Marko grabbed a booth — plate stacked. Jay gradually took his time to pace through the small selection as his eyes wandered over to the curly-haired boy. Not once did he ever mention female nouns the entire night. He, overall, treated Jay like any other dude. Did he know any different? Jay sat down and laughed as Marko bluntly commented on his plate. Apparently, pepperoni was too plain, and Jay needed to live a little and try it with olives. He watched Marko stuff his face and lick salt off fingers, nonplussed by the display of eating, and he couldn’t help but think this guy just didn’t care — didn’t care about Jay’s appearance or title in life. Something that often weighed him down. It was a relief, in a sense — to not care. “C’mon, Jay, seriously try it.”

The pizza drooped in front of his face, and Jay reluctantly leaned forward for a bite. “Fuck—” he wiped at his mouth instantly. “— that is WAY too much jalapeno, man.” Marko laughed at the expression across the teen’s face. “Nah,” he breathed out. “Your tongue is just a fuckin’ wuss, is all.” Jay gulped down his soda before wiping at his mouth again. “Are you sure it isn’t your tongue that has long since left the planet?” What did they do to that pizza? Let it marinate in jalapeno juice? “I can guarantee you that my palate is top-notch.” “Sure, sure.” “Hey,” the girl from before stood by their booth, hand on hip. “We’re closing up in twenty-minutes.” “What time is it?” Jay asked as he looked outside the nearest window, noting that the parking lot was practically empty. Was it that late already? “Almost ten,” she simply stated before openly checking out Marko, gaze fanning over his open black coat that showed a white tank. Not surprisingly, Marko gave her an equal amount of attention with his gaze. Jay stood up, “Think we should head out.” he grabbed the last breadstick and headed for the exit, stepping out into the cooling air. It took another minute before Marko emerged with a cheeky smile, a folded paper between his fingers. “Got her digits, huh?” “Easily,” Marko slid it into his coat pocket. “Must be my charm.” Jay stepped off in the direction of his street. The walk home was going to take a good thirty-minutes, but he didn’t mind. All the walking around kept him in shape. And so what if Marko nabbed the girl’s number. It wasn’t like they were on a serious date — just two guys having a good time, and jealousy was not about to ruin the good mood. “Where are we heading next?” Marko asked while easily getting in step next to Jay. “The boardwalk stays open later during summer hours. I’m sure we can snag a few spots on some rides before they shut down.” Jay kept walking away from the boardwalk, hands in his coat. “I’m heading home.” “Already?” Marko placed a hand on the other's shoulder, causing them both to pause. “The night’s still young.” “My parents will start to worry if I am not back by eleven.” “But you were out roaming the graveyard way past midnight yesterday?” Jay cut his gaze away, fingers fiddling with the seam inside his pocket where a string had come loose months ago. “I snuck out last night to help some friends, is all.” It would be hard to explain everything, wouldn’t it? The valid reason he was out there among tombstones. Even if Jay explained it, what would stop Marko from instantly labeling him off as a weirdo? “Besides,” Jay spoke up before Marko could ask for further details. “Why were you even out there? Are you a grave robber or something?” He didn’t know anything about this guy, not really.

Marko must have noticed the way Jay’s tone had shifted, and the uneasy tension was back. He placed his hands up in the way of surrender, pale fingers a stark difference to the gloves covering everything else. “No grave robbing by my hands, promise.” They stared at one another for a second before Marko’s hands dropped, his voice filling in the thick silence around them. “If you don’t want to elaborate, I get it — all’s good, but let me at least walk you home.” Jay shook his head without even considering the notion. “Just hit me up later or something. I’d rather walk home alone.” “Okay, okay.” Marko stepped away, hands in his own coat and looking relaxed. It seemed like nothing could sour his mood despite how their night was ending. “I’ll chat with you later, Jay.” “Yeah, see ya’.” And Jay turned  around without looking back, bag slung over one shoulder and drawing his hood up. So what if their night ended off on an odd note, and Jay didn’t apply for any jobs? His sneakers scrapped along the cracked pavement, thoughts turning inside his head like a storm. For the most part Jay enjoyed the night. It went from shitty to fun, and that’s what really counts, right? “Tyler is going to be pissed at me.”

[gascon-en-exil]

Three Houses 100% Completion: The Joys of Spreadsheets

The idea that someone like me would ever write a gameplay guide to any Fire Emblem title is somewhat ludicrous on the surface. While I’ve finished nearly every mainline game in the series I also freely confess to being a filthy casual except ironically I ignore Casual mode because resetting/rewinding after death was ingrained in me back in the GBA era who only plays these games on their lowest difficulties, ostensibly because I find the lower challenge to allow for more flexibility in how I pick and develop units. This is of course entirely true, although it’s also no surprise that from a completionist perspective FE is much more approachable when you can make it as easy as possible. For most of the games 100% completion is nothing more than filling out a support log, music library, and other features of an Extras menu, and while there are certainly some tedious times to be had with that - I hope you like popping out the same kids over a dozen times for that many generic parent-child supports in Awakening and Fates - none of it is what anyone would call challenging. Shadows of Valentia has in-game achievements, but the worst of those involves weapons with low drop rates so it’s otherwise a manageable endeavor to get them all.

Three Houses, however, is something else altogether. In a stroke of brilliance that may presumably not be attributed to the developers who expected most people to only play through the game one time, this is the first in the series with a New Game+ feature. This allows you to carry over much of your units’ development over multiple playthroughs, and to catch up instantly where you left off by spending Renown to buy skills, supports, class masteries, etc. that you’ve obtained in previous runs. Thus it is possible to build up a NG+ file over many runs in which all of the game’s forty playable characters have all of their skill ranks maxed out and all their available classes mastered - or at least available for purchase. That’s how I’m defining 100% completion here, and I’m delighting in a very nerdy way to report that not since The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask has a game so tickled my love of efficient scheduling and careful management of available resources to achieve such a substantial goal. I wouldn’t call it hard per se, not in the same way as the built-in difficulty of Maddening or any number of self-imposed challenge runs, but there’s a lot of planning that goes into something like this - to say nothing of how well you need to know the relevant mechanics.

EDIT: After a lot of playtesting I’ve made quite a few updates to this guide, so some of the information here may now be outdated (or less efficient, more like). See here for the updates.

Parameters

New Game+ saves your units’ progress over multiple runs in its journal, although as this is limited - you can only see the progress of units currently in your army, and because of how availability works in this game you’ll never be able to see them all at once - I strongly recommend keeping a separate log of your own. Other than that the only other way the game records your investment is the timestamp on save files, and while that might be helpful if you’re interested in speedrunning this it’ll probably take around 300 hours minimum though so why bother I find it more useful to keep track of how many times you’ve run through the game. The least number of runs needed to fulfill this achievement, and therefore the number to shoot for as a goal, is 29. Why 29? That’s the number of characters who can be dancers, and of course you can only have one dancer per run.

29 runs sounds long but generous on paper. After all, when I did this more or less blind over the course of a year and with the DLC coming out progressively during that time I finished it in 35 runs which isn’t that much higher. It’s a tighter requirement than you might think however, particularly as I’m not accounting for the grinding on infinite skirmish maps that Normal allows for. I feel like the challenge, such as it is, of something like this comes in the form of plotting everything out and knowing how to use the limited time and resources the game gives you as effectively as possible, and grinding throws that out the window. I admit that during my first time doing this I did have to grind out some stubborn skill ranks with skirmishes in the last chapter, but optimally that shouldn’t be necessary and you should be able to work to avoid that.

I’m not including the support log, music library, or event library (i.e. the Goddess Tower events) as points of consideration. Strange as it sounds to exclude what is often the only draw FE presents for completionists, all of those save to the cartridge and not to individual files and are therefore irrelevant to the concept of building up a “perfect” NG+ file. None of them are particularly difficult as it stands - most S ranks can be bought with Renown after you’ve filled characters with enough furtive gay thoughts for the same-gender Byleth, the Goddess Tower can be save scummed, and for the soundtrack you just have to remember to switch the audio to Japanese at a few points to get every track - so I’m going to overlook them. I am however assuming DLC content, and that you already have a completed file of Cindered Shadows on the cartridge. Most notably this allows you to recruit the Ashen Wolves and access the DLC classes, but it has a very important third benefit I’ll get into a bit later.

Also, a final note on difficulty: this guide obviously assumes Normal (Classic vs. Casual is basically irrelevant with Divine Pulse). You might be able to do something like this on Hard, although I’m not going to attempt it. Maddening is completely out of the question, as you have to level every single character through suboptimal skill ranks and classes, both for themselves and in general.

Routes

Regardless of what you might think of all the controversial discourse surrounding it, Crimson Flower is by far the worst route for unit development. It’s a full three/four chapters and three/four calendar months plus one week and weekend (contrast CF Chapter 13 vs. non-CF Chapter 12) shorter than the others. Of the remaining three, Verdant Wind marginally edges out Azure Moon as the longest route as it has one extra instruction week and free weekend in the last chapter...because Dimitri and Edelgard take that entire week for their parley in AM. Silver Snow’s last chapter is as long as VW’s - but it infamously skips out on an entire calendar month (four free weekends, three instruction weeks, and the Gronder rematch) because your army is off having a drug orgy or something equally unproductive. 

Still, despite this objective evaluation running through VW 29 times isn’t a possibility. This is mostly because all of the routes except SS have exclusive units who have to be accounted for, and also because other units have small but significant availability advantages on certain routes. On top of the perk of not having to spend Renown to recruit them, students in a route’s affiliated house get to appear in Chapter 1 (the mock battle) and non-CF Chapter 13 (the infamous bandit hunt map right after the timeskip). Seteth slightly favors SS as he appears in Chapter 13 in place of your house leader, while conversely Hilda, Catherine, and Cyril should be avoided on SS as they’re not available until much later than they are in VW and AM. Then there are, again, the route-exclusives: Claude for VW; Dimitri, Dedue, and Gilbert for AM; and for CF Edelgard, Hubert, and....ugh.

Do you hate Jeritza for his weird voice acting, terrible characterization that spills over onto all of his support partners, and the same tone problems from which all of CF suffers? Prepare to hate him all over again as a unit, because Jeritza single-handedly makes 100% completion in a timely fashion much harder. Not only does he have the worst availability in the game at a mere six chapters and essentially four calendar months, unlike his fellow Part 2 exclusive Gilbert he has skill weaknesses - and one of them is in authority, which as I’ll get to later is even more annoying. Compounding this, Jeritza being locked to CF means you have to run CF far more than you’d like, giving him a disproportionate share of time and resources in Part 2 at the expense of whoever’s being used alongside him. This is why a Gotoh unit just doesn’t work in conjunction with FE16′s core design philosophy.

With this in mind, my theoretical plan - and note that some of this guide is indeed still theoretical, and I’m plotting it out as I go along based on my first time through - for a 29 run 100% is 8 runs of CF and 7 of each of the other routes. This sounds counterintuitive in light of the objective ranking of route length, but Jeritza really is that much of a headache.

Cross-Run Planning and Renown

One of the most important points to maximizing efficiency for 100% is knowing what carries over between runs and what does not - or in other words, thinking more in terms of the overall goal of maxing out your units than of the individual needs of each run beyond what’s needed to finish the game with no deaths. This being Normal mode of course that’s not a high bar to clear, but it’s still worth noting that many of the traditional parameters used to measure the development of your army in FE outright do not matter in the grand scheme of things. This includes your units’ levels and stats, money, and your inventory. 

Money isn’t too hard to come by particularly with auxiliary battles, increased earlygame money with auto-leveled professor rank (see below), and other sources. Stats only matter to the point that you have enough of them to finish the game, and standard leveling, certifications, and the +1 stat booster drops from auxiliary battles will take care of that for the most part. Getting specialized weapons and equipment can occasionally be useful, but it shouldn’t be a priority especially lategame when you’re not going to have much time to use what you get. In any case the quick pace of these runs means it’s unlikely that you’ll have much material for forging/repairing beyond the basic buyable ores, so forged silvers are usually the way to go unless you feel like breaking out a brave weapon or Relic or something similar if you need a really powerful hit. As for levels, other than the stat boosts they only matter insofar as different class tiers have different benchmarks for certification. The highest of these is 30, so after that point levels are all about the stats. That said however, with Normal experience being as high as it is your units will likely end the game in the 40s or even 50s, especially with the EXP boosts from the saint statues.

This brings me to Renown. Renown is the main resource for 100% completion, and is in fact what makes it possible in the first place. In a new game you can only spend Renown on restoring the saint statues, and while this is very important to do in your first two or three runs for the boosts it adds to EXP gain, skill points gained during instruction, and most crucially of all class mastery EXP (by far the top priority - drop 2000 Renown on the Saint Cethleann statue for this as soon as the statues become available in Chapter 5 of your first run) later runs allow you to spend Renown on the journal in Byleth’s room. This is how you save and continue progress on skill ranks, as well as how you can instantly max out your professor rank at the start of the game which is crucial for getting the most out of the monastery. 

Now for some numbers...and here’s where that Cindered Shadows file comes into play. With a completed run of CS you unlock a reward that appears at the start of each run including 10000 Renown (as well as the very useful Chalice of Beginnings accessory - sword and gauntlet users love this thing earlygame). Each NG+ run starts you off with 10000 Renown multiplied by how many times you’ve completed the game, and each run you can get the CS reward again on top of however much Renown you had unspent from the previous run(s). You also get a small amount of Renown for completing battles and quests around the monastery, although this is minor compared to starting your second run with a minimum of 20000 Renown, your third with 30000, etc. By the last few runs you can expect to hit the cap of 999999 Renown, which is more than you could ever reasonably use at a time. So what to spend it on?

The saint statues: Each has a one-time cost of 10000 Renown to fully restore and can be done incrementally. This costs 40000 total and should be finished no later than your third run, because as mentioned almost all of the bonuses granted by these statues are absolute necessities for a fast 100%.

Professor rank: On the first free day after choosing your house, complete Sylvain’s quest to eat in the dining hall to instantly level up from E to E+ professor rank. After that it takes 4000 Renown to max out your rank at A+, easily manageable from your second run onward with the CS reward. This gives you ten activity points in exploration, seven instruction sessions, three points on battle weekends, the ability to assign up to three adjutants in battle, more flexible dining hall options (both neutral and liked dishes will restore full motivation), and access to master classes and high-end forging as soon as you unlock their other requirements. It’s an essential expense for every run.

Skill ranks: The value here is obvious, but as it costs 500 Renown per rank it’s important to be sparing and only spend on what you’ll actually be using in a particular run. The exception here is Byleth - see their section.

Supports: Mostly unimportant unless you’re recruiting a student from another house (just make sure to get these Byleth/student supports in a previous run first) or if you’re running CF and not using either Byleth or Edelgard in which case you’ll need to buy the Edeleth C(+). Supports cost 400 Renown per rank which is fairly cheap, although if you’re doing cross-house recruits it’s best to spend 1200 to get their A in which case they’ll always agree to join your house when asked. Note that non-student characters whose recruitment is dependent on Byleth’s level can have that requirement lowered with supports, but this is unnecessary - again, see Byleth’s section.

Class masteries and Crests: Ignore these. While the gameplay bonuses can be nice none of them are worth spending Renown on, especially in earlier runs. The class mastery menu is however what you’ll use to keep track of which classes units still need to complete, so bear that in mind. Incidentally, unlike the skill ranks menu the classes don’t update until you clear the game, so you’ll have to check your units’ status screens to see which classes they’ve mastered on the run you’re currently doing.

Abyss: Finally, Abyss has a few one-time Renown costs for its various facilities, similar to the saint statues. It’s only 8000 Renown to unlock everything (although for some of them you’ll have to wait until Part 2), but honestly only the pagan altar really matters at all so it’s not a huge priority. Generally speaking the weapons and equipment purchasable at the altar aren’t worth the Renown cost until you get multiple runs under your belt and have resources to burn, but Master Seals and Abyssian Exam Passes may be an exception as they’re limited in availability otherwise. Optimally though you should plot out your classes such that you shouldn’t have to spend Renown on seals.

Last but not least, a word on battalions. Battalions do carry over in NG+, as do their levels. It’s therefore important to build up a guild of strong max level battalions early on, mostly by completing paralogues. Assigning these to units in the earlygame gives them massive stat boosts, to an even greater extent than equipping silver weapons or high-level spells - which unsurprisingly come with serious weight issues early on, so best to stack with battalions for more OHKOs and better defensive parameters.

Building Your Army: Active vs. Classroom Units

It’s common knowledge for the games in the series (except FE5, because Fatigue is weird like that) that it’s rarely worth it to use all the deployment slots available to you, and that concentrating your resources into a smaller number of units will yield better results. This is true of FE16 as well, and I’ve determined that the best active army size for 100% completion runs is 5-6 units. This allows space for everyone you’re training to get the attention they need at the monastery and in the classroom, and it also dovetails nicely with how many runs it will reasonably take for each unit to master all of their classes. As I’ll go into in more detail later, it’s best to split each unit’s classes into four groups, and 40 characters x 4 = 160 which when divided by 29 runs works out to 5 active unit slots for about half of the runs and 6 for the other half. As regards composition, a core of two or three of the route’s house units and/or Byleth is important for Chapters 1 and non-CF 13, with the remaining slots free for the Wolves, non-students, and if absolutely necessary cross-house recruits although these are not optimal owing to the support costs. Recruitment should always be done as early as possible; this isn’t Maddening where it’s important to consider that auto-leveled growths sometimes make units better if you wait to recruit them. For the Wolves and students from other houses (except Hilda in SS, but don’t use her there) that means Chapter 2, with the non-students coming in at various points up through Chapter 13.

As is the case with every FE though you’re also going to have units in your army who you’re not using. I recommend recruiting everyone you can on each run except for cross-house students, for this reason: units not in your active army, hereafter called classroom units, can still be trained...in the classroom. Simply setting their goals appropriately when you first get them is all the effort you’ll need to put into them passively gaining valuable skill experience that can be put toward runs where you will use them, and between skill ranks and classes the former are going to take considerably more time and effort overall to max out. This is because class certification never asks for anything higher than A in a skill, but there are three additional ranks beyond that. Also, skill weaknesses are a thing, and while they cease to matter to class mastery once a unit is certified they’ll continue to be a problem on the long slog to S+. The thought of individually assigning classroom units goals may seem daunting, but in practice there’s a priority to skills that helps out considerably, as follows:

Authority: top priority for several reasons - it grants access to high level battalions which as mentioned makes earlygame a joke, it’s the only skill that can’t be leveled as an adjutant meaning that once a unit maxes it out they can be comfortably leveled in the back full-time, and it’s the skill that matters least to the class system so maxing it out won’t lead to any awkward situations, ex. a unit with S+ bows still needing to master sniper

Authority can be comfortably pushed to S+ solely in the classroom and rarely needs to be focused on as a goal by active units (Jeritza being a notable exception). The skills below however should only be raised up to A, A+, or S to allow room for some active training, and should be switched once a unit has reached a benchmark around that point so as to have more skills worked on overall. Also worth pointing out - it’s generally easier and more efficient for classroom units to train only one skill at a time.

Heavy armor: everyone who isn’t Edelgard only has three classes that boost it, and of these classes (including Edelgard’s) the only one without terrible movement is great knight

Flying for male units: except for Claude they have just two flying classes, although since wyvern rider and wyvern lord are pretty much the best physical classes in the game this isn’t as much of a hindrance as it is with heavy armor

Brawling for female units: there are only three unisex classes that boost brawling apart from f!Byleth’s enlightened one, and two of these (fighter and brigand) only give +1 putting a lot of pressure on war cleric to compensate

Skill weaknesses: this is where it gets more individualized, but as weaknesses slow down a unit’s progress in both the classroom and on the battlefield it’s very helpful to build up a good base when they’re not being actively used

To use Dimitri as an example, on AM runs where I’m not using him I would first max his authority, then boost up his flying or heavy armor (these two, or brawling and heavy armor for females, are about equal in priority and should be attended to with skill weaknesses/proficiencies in mind), then the other one, then either axes or reason as those are his weaknesses. If you want to really break it down bows, brawling (for males)/flying (for females), and riding take precedence over the remaining skills for having fewer classes, and faith is slightly more important than reason for the same, er, reason, but realistically classroom units aren’t going to be getting that far without much more substantial active growth taken into account.

Active units on the other hand can afford to be much more dynamic in what they learn during instruction, especially as they’ll be motivated to receive private instruction. Ahem. One thing to note is that if an active unit is working on a budding talent it should always be instructed enough to unlock as soon as possible, even if you plan on leveling the skill passively/in battle afterward. Gaining a proficiency really does pay dividends, and sometimes the ability is useful too. Group tasks are also important to keep in mind, and ideally you should plan each run to have at least two active units training the same movement skill to take advantage of the weekly boost.

On Byleth

Byleth is in many respects a special case. I frequently rail on their defects as a flat self-insert who makes every story they’re in worse because it has to accommodate their wooden presence, but here I’ve really only got good things to say. It should be pointed out that the journal treats Byleth as one character despite the gender difference, which is good as the male and female versions do not have to be worked on separately. Byleth can’t gain skill experience from instruction, but instead they gain it from faculty training which costs activity points but is on the whole a faster process. As noted below faculty training is the primary way of dumping excess activity points during exploration, because maxing out Byleth’s skill ranks is very high priority. Units receiving instruction get an extra +2 to their base skill growth if Byleth has a higher rank in the skill, hence it’s in everyone’s best interest for Byleth to max out their skills first. This is also the big exception to the rule about spending Renown only on skills you’ll be using in a run; Byleth’s ranks should always be topped out as high as you’ve gotten them at the start of the game, to give this bonus as often as possible. Admittedly you won’t be able to do this earlier on as it costs a hefty amount of Renown to get all of a unit’s skills up to S+, but in later runs it will pay off considerably.

Something else to consider about Byleth is their level. There are three reasons to level up Byleth even if they’re not an active unit in a run: recruiting non-student characters, the Proper Conduct Tournament, and making them less likely to die instantly if they get attacked in battle lategame since they’re force-deployed on every chapter map and paralogue. The highest level required to recruit anyone is 15 (if in AM or VW doing so in Chapter 4 gets you Catherine, but this might be unfeasible and it’s not a big deal if you have to wait a chapter for her), but you should aim for 20 by Chapter 8 in order to win the tournament. These levels are entirely manageable with Byleth soloing the Prologue and then spending the rest of the time as an adjutant, or playing a minor support role when they’re force-deployed (I favor giving them the Stride gambit personally). For the tournament I recommend certifying them as a fortress knight first for the massive DEF boost and then certifying and changing to swordmaster because they’re required to use a sword and therefore appreciate that class’s abilities. Winning gets you the usual quest rewards as well as a free brave weapon, not to mention the inherent humor of the game itself mocking people clutching their pearls over the teacher/student relationships. 

What Matters and What Doesn’t at the Monastery

Learning how to streamline exploration is a key component to keeping these runs fast-paced and cutting down on real time spent. Bluntly, a fair bit of what goes on at Garreg Mach is irrelevant when you’re thinking on a cross-run level. Here’s what actually does:

Quests: should be done all the time as they increase Renown by small amounts, award resources and some inventory items, and in some cases unlock monastery facilities or other features like the White Heron Cup. Most of them also don’t take very long to complete, and once you’ve run this game enough you’ll develop a good rhythm for the quests in each chapter. Quest battles are also worth doing - see the calendar section.

Dining hall: the best way to increase your units’ motivation for instruction. Fishing and the greenhouse are for the most part wastes of time since you don’t need to manually grind out professor rank (important note: except on your first run, where it’s probably better to do them) and the rewards from them are either negligible or, in the case of the greenhouse’s stat boosters, can be replicated with auxiliary battles. However, you should get enough resources for meals from quests and such to be able to carry you through a run without much trouble, and if you do start to run out note that you can also buy poultry and wild game from one of the vendors.

Choir practice: comparable to group tasks for the faith skill, and as with those you should preferably plan to have two active units leveling faith each run to take the most advantage of this. Byleth also gains both faith and authority from choir practice, so you can make use of that as well.

Lost items: usually more trouble than they’re worth to remember where they are and when they appear, but technically they function as one-time liked gifts if you want to restore motivation without eating or spending money on regular gifts.

Faculty training: how Byleth raises their skills outside of battle. This is the main dump for activity points in earlier runs once the dining hall and sauna are taken care of, but it’s important to note which characters increase which skills and to spread your training out accordingly. This is a major reason why you should recruit non-student characters even if you don’t plan on using them, because they’re more reliable sources of this training than the student characters even into Part 2. Obviously once Byleth has maxed all their skills this can be dropped from your task list completely.

Special vendors: unrelated to activity points, but once you do the quests to unlock the NPC vendors and Anna’s secret shop at the monastery it’s important to stock up whenever you’re exploring since you can’t buy this stuff from other menus. Important items are gifts if you lack the activity points to feed your active units, Smithing Stones for basic forges and repairs, Arcane Crystals lategame for magic weapons if you’re using any, meat if you’re running low on dining hall provisions as mentioned, and Master Seals from Anna once you’ve exhausted the free one plus the five you can buy from the regular shop menu.

Saint Statues: see the above section on Renown.

Sauna: also starting in Chapter 5, provides an important boost to skill gained during instruction or faculty training that month: +2 for refreshed or +4 for very refreshed. Getting very refreshed is more a matter of RNG than anything as there’s only so much skill involved in this minigame, but most of the time you can at least aim for +2 on all your active units. This should always be done the first free weekend of the month, but if the sauna decides to be finicky with a unit and deny them a boost you can try again on a later weekend.

Mark Your Calendars

You’d think that the in-game calendar would be the centerpiece of my mania for scheduling and thus this entire guide, but in actuality it’s quite simple. Events like saints’ days and special meals cost you nothing to attend, but who joins you is totally random from among your current party so there’s no guarantee the associated boosts will go to characters you care about. Birthdays are negligible, but if you just have to have teatime for whatever reason it’s more efficient to do so in honor of a character’s special day than by wasting an activity point on a weekend.

I find that the most efficient way to spend your free weekends is that all but the last of each month should be used for exploration, to pick up and complete quests, recruit new characters, raise motivation for instruction each week, and do the sauna on the first weekend. The last weekend, the one before the chapter battle, should be used for battling. What kinds of battles depends on what’s available:

Quest battles should be gotten out of the way, especially those that bring new vendors to the monastery, but they scale poorly with your units’ levels and are generally very easy. A prominent exception exclusive to CF is a quest battle where you can only deploy Byleth and Jeritza, which Jeritza should always solo because he needs all the favoritism he can get.

Paralogues are hit or miss overall. Some are absolutely necessary - Sothis’s for a Knowledge Gem (see below), Dedue’s unless you’re completely finished with him and are also a heartless monster - but for the most part it’s up to your discretion. Some offer very good rewards and some have very good battalions to add to your guild, but on the flip side some paralogues are more annoying than others thanks to odd initial positioning, more level scaling issues, and/or fog of war. The cutscenes before each paralogue are also unskippable, so they cut into real time as well. Still, paralogues do have one benefit over every other type of battle available on weekends in that they restore full motivation to their non-Byleth MVPs, just like story battles. It’s therefore possible that if you have a bunch of paralogues available at once (common late in Part 1) you can do three of them on one weekend in place of exploration and come out of it with some extra combat experience as well as three characters with full motivation for the next week of instruction.

Auxiliary battles are DLC-exclusive and are distinguished by a yellow exclamation point on the menu. Compared to regular or red exclamation point skirmishes the enemies in them scale much better with your army (making them the best battles for grinding your units up to 30 for master classes), and they offer bonus gold and stat boosters that can sustain your army in the absence of facilities like fishing and the greenhouse. There are also only about half a dozen of them overall and each follows a quickly recognizable pattern of enemy placement, so they are by far the best source of regular, reliable unit development outside of story content.

Apart from Chapter 2′s month which is structured like a tutorial there is only one major hiccup to how you plan your weekends. If you’re planning to go CF then in Chapter 11 you’ll have to watch Edelgard’s coronation, but doing so takes up all the rest of the month up to the story battle. In order to skip the least amount of content you’ll therefore have to either forego a battle weekend entirely or else do one earlier in the month and accept that not all of your active units will be motivated the following week.

And Now for Some Actual Standard FE Gameplay

Skills may be the focus for long-term goals and development over multiple runs both in active armies and in the classroom, but it’s class progression that frames a unit’s development in a given run and is, relatively speaking, easier to plot out and manage. I say that...but the reality is rather messier than that, which I will prove with a live demonstration.

Before that though, the numbers: each unit can access 35-42 of the 52 total playable classes. As before mentioned four active runs is the number to aim for based on optimal army size, and that number of classes divided by four means that units will be expected to master 8-10 classes per run. One of the advantages to a four-way division is that it allows you to split up classes approximately according to the four beginner classes: each unit will have a myrmidon run, a soldier run, etc. As shown below however, these are very loose descriptions and are better thought of as a framework to aid development than as a set formula.

With regard to class and skill EXP gained in battle, the formulas are a lot more set in stone. Every time a unit engages or is engaged in combat, uses white magic or a gambit, or dances they gain 1 class EXP, increased to 2 with the bonus from the Saint Cethleann statue which you should definitely unlock early in your first run. There are two ways to increase this number further. The first is by equipping a Knowledge Gem, undoubtedly the most important item to 100% completion. You get one in a chest in Sothis’s paralogue, which should be obtained your first battle of Chapter 8 when it’s first available, and another after Chapter 11 provided you don’t let any enemies escape with Crest Stones. Equipping this item doubles the amount of class EXP gained, so 4 after the statue bonus. The second way to increase this the Mastermind ability, Lysithea’s personal ability as well as one in Jeritza’s starting list that he must equip in order to use. It has the same effect as a Knowledge Gem on its own, and if the two are combined they stack additively for a maximum of 6 EXP at a time.

Skill EXP has a few more parameters but is similarly straightforward. When dealing damage or using white magic units will gain skill EXP with the weapon/magic type they used, their movement type if their class boosts one (and they’re mounted in the case of riding or flying), and authority if they have a battalion equipped - and as mentioned, all of these except authority also apply to adjutants. The base depends on the unit’s proficiency in the skills in questions: 3 for strong, 2 for neutral, and 1 for weak. The Knowledge Gem and Mastermind work in the same way to increase this base: 6/4/2 using one of them and 9/6/3 using both. Then class boosts are added to this, with each class boosting affiliated skills by +1 to +3. Putting this all together, the most skill EXP that can be gained at one time is 12, if Lysithea or Jeritza w/ Mastermind equips a Knowledge Gem and raises a skill they are strong in in a class that grants +3 to that skill. Gremory!Lysithea with a battalion and a Knowledge Gem using her favorite meme Dark Spikes on Jeritza’s obnoxious serial killer ass would give her 6 class EXP, 9 authority EXP, and 12 reason EXP - and this is why Lysithea levels so fast.

Now then, to build some class sets. I’ll be using Hubert for this example, and for a different reason other than shameless favoritism mostly.

Logically a unit’s first run should play to their strengths as much as possible, to ease them into development with skills they’re naturally inclined toward. Hubert is a default magic user, so his monk run should be his first. To start:

Noble (this or commoner should always be a unit’s first mastered class because it’s so quick to get out of the way)

Monk

Mage

Dark Mage

...And here’s the first problem. As is contractually required for CF exclusives Hubert is an edgy atheist and is weak in faith, making the expected combination of a monk run difficult to pull off without prior investment as a classroom unit. But wait - Hubert has a budding talent in lances that a therapist could have a field day with, and his most feasible master class is easily dark knight. This encourages something like so:

Noble

Monk

Mage

Dark Mage

Cavalier

Warlock

Dark Bishop

Paladin

Dark Knight

There we go, nine classes which is entirely reasonable for Hubert’s total of 37. For his first run he can focus on reason, lances, and riding, safe in the knowledge that he doesn’t have to max any of those skills here as there are other classes that require them. Looking ahead to his second run, soldier might seem like a logical second pick...but if he spent some time working on his faith as a classroom unit there’s a better run of classes to knock out.

Myrmidon

Mercenary

Thief

Priest

Swordmaster

Assassin

Bishop

Trickster

Mortal Savant

Holy Knight

After this he’ll be done with all reason-boosting classes and should be comfortably finished with that skill, along with having high ranks in swords, lances, faith, and riding as well as with authority probably maxed out as he’s strong in it. Assassin might seem like an odd stretch here, but note that he’s strong in bows so it shouldn’t be hard for him to reach. With his third run it’s finally time to go back for soldier.

Soldier

Armored Knight

Archer

Dancer

Hero

Fortress Knight

Sniper

Bow Knight

Great Knight

Lances and bows frequently pair well together as they converge at the end at bow knight, and bows don’t have many classes overall and pair less with axes or brawling than those two do with each other. Axes are one of Hubert’s weaknesses, but at this point he should have built up his rank in them and in heavy armor to make this more manageable - but since these are far from the only axe classes heavy armor is the bigger priority along with lances, bows, and riding. Dancer seems rather random here, but I looked ahead to which run needed an extra and it’s a pretty flexible class anyway requiring effectively only 8 CHA (or 13 in some cases that will never apply to Hubert). Consider it one last chance along with hero for him to work on swords. And now for the last one.

Fighter

Brigand

Brawler

Warrior

Grappler

Wyvern Rider

War Monk

Wyvern Lord

War Master

Flying is Hubert’s other weakness, but as with axes he shouldn’t be starting from scratch with them. He might be with brawling, but he’s neutral in that skill and has lots of opportunities here to work on punching people to death. I wouldn’t recommend war monk/cleric to do any more work with his faith however, as both it and trickster have halved spell uses which makes them highly inefficient for raising magic levels.

That, by the way, is just one way to go about building these class sets. I went back and forth on a few of my own choices as I was writing that up. The thing about classes in Three Houses is that they don’t flow smoothly into one another, so there’s a lot of room for experimentation with different paths and a lot of variance based on each unit’s strengths and weaknesses.

Finally, a note on adjutants. Smart use of adjutants substantially increases overall unit development as it effectively doubles the amount of skill and class EXP your army can gain from each battle. Units who have 1) maxed authority and 2) are not in danger of falling behind the pre-30 leveling curve (units receive less regular EXP in the back) are prime candidates to be adjutants, and in later runs as more units finish authority it will become more common to have characters who’ll spend the majority of their time in the back. Of course you’ll always need two or three solid frontliners to actually complete the battles, but this is a useful way to play around annoyances like the bad movement of armors or the limited spell lists of most physically-oriented characters.

So About Those Spreadsheets

I know this is a ton of information to handle, and the game offers only the bare minimum for cross-run organization. This is where developing your own system comes into play if you’re aiming for a quick 100%. Personally I decide which set of units I’m going to be actively using on a given run, then plot out and write down which classes each is going to master and which skills they’re going to work on. I also note what skills classroom units will be building, and I keep separate track on overall maxed skills and mastered classes so I’m not dependent on the in-game journal to do that for me.

How rewarding is all this? That depends on how much you enjoy breaking down a game like this and really wringing the most of its mechanics to reach entirely personal goals. Just writing this guide has inspired me to attempt a 29 run 100% sometime in the near future, and it would be interesting if anyone else were to take on this excessive, overly meticulous process. I know there are other ways of approaching this concept, and even some things I could afford to improve myself especially for earlier runs as the first time I did this I was still getting a feel for the game and wasn’t playing at anywhere near as optimal a level. All the better for all the plot and characterization discourse I’ve gotten involved in over the past year, naturally, but there’s room to better my game.

And with that I am done...hmm, do Tumblr text posts have character limits? Only one way to find out, I suppose.

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 1

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst 

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 2.9k

⇝ Summary: The goal has never been in your favor, and despite all your best efforts, you don’t think it ever will be. But that’s right when you finally get the chance to turn things around, to do things the way you’ve always wanted to and to go after what you truly love. However the problem isn’t if you can do it, it’s how much are you willing to do...?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; none for this chapter

⇝ *Disclaimer: If you’ve read gender bender manga before, you know exactly what this fic is going to be like. However if you haven’t, this story will involve themes of cross-dressing only for fictional and story purposes. This will include numerous instances of the reader having to hide that she’s a girl and this being kept secret. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with this idea.

gif credit. 

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, March 24 

One Step.

Two Step.

Turn around.

The building before you is coloured a burnt red, grimy bricks stacked together until they join to create a giant brown rooftop. Craning your neck further, there are rows and rows of glass stretching out in between the reddened bricks, crossing what you assume to be at least ten floors. A small ding from the inside snaps your attention away, eyes no longer taking in the towering landmark that looms over you.

The rumpled map is carefully folded within your hands, doors automatically shifting apart when you draw closer. Your bewildered eyes can only glance around aimlessly until they locate the elevator, rushing over and hurriedly pressing the button to go up. After what feels like an entire eternity, it finally dings again and you step inside, grip tightening on your bags.

When it comes to a full stop, you hesitantly lean forward. Your gaze traces over the many rooms that span across the lengthy hallway, each one containing a string of numbers stamped in fine print. It’s eerily silent as well, compelling you to wonder if that’s such a good thing until you begin sweeping by the various rooms, hearing distant sounds of shouting and yelling, even a certain crash that has your shoulders spiking and a shiver running down your spine.

There’s a sudden loud thudding noise coming from your right that mimics the quickening of your heartbeat, a cluster of students jogging by. All of them are glued to one another, swinging their arms around each other’s necks and loudly chattering away until they notice you, despite your best efforts to become one with the wall in the hallway.

Shoulders bump into you rapidly and your backpack slides off, getting harshly trampled on until it's kicked away to the side, a collection of snickers echoing before the group leaves. You kneel down, dusting off any remains of nasty footsteps with a sigh and shrugging it onto your back. Picking up your fallen suitcase, your eyes are both lost and confused so you opt-out for rummaging through your pocket, a crumpled piece of paper emerging in your hands.

“Room…613..…” You whisper, scanning the various number plates, “610, 612…” You look on the right side, “611..…613!”

Inhaling a deep breath, your fist rattles against the door.

When it seems like time has begun to slow down and the chattering of your breath erratically increases, the door is finally yanked open. Your eyes and mouth are both wide, jaw nearly dropping at the young man that stands before you.

Long curly black locks fall down his forehead, resting delicately against his sun-kissed skin and nearly covering his surprised eyes. He’s dressed in a loose black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a lollipop sticking out of his pursued lips.

He’s extremely handsome, you acknowledge right away and when he leans forward to get a closer glimpse at you, you also realize – and very tall.  

Before you have a chance to say anything, he spirals around and shouts in a deep tone. 

“Jungkook-ah! Did you end up adopting a scrawny little kid and not tell me?”

“What?! No!” You hear a voice shout back far within the room, a delicate tone in comparison to the guy at the door. There’s some shuffling before footsteps stomp over, the voice growing louder, “Tae that’s our new roommate, stop being weird and just let him in.”

“A NEW ROOMMATE?!” The man – ‘Tae’ – glances at you with huge eyes and opens the door to the room wider, “Oh my god, where are my manners! Please come forth to our lovely home and pardon the mess, the black-haired fairy in the corner over there has refused to clean up his shit since yesterday!”

You’re greeted to exactly what he says; an utter mess. There’s piles of takeout and clothes sprayed out all across the floor, mixed in with a handful of dishes, specks of dust and some random clutter as you stand in the middle of the room. You catch a peek at the individual facing Tae, appearing to be drastically younger in comparison and sporting shorter black hair, a set of silver hoops dangling from his ears. Yet despite his youthful appearance, you notice that he’s on par to Tae in terms of height when he stands right next to him.

“The mess isn’t just mine you know?! You can clean up once in a while too!”

“What was that?? I can’t hear you because I’m too busy untangling myself from your dirty laundry on the ground half the time!”

You watch them argue from a distance, not quite sure about what you should be doing as your hand remains planted on your suitcase. Biting down on your lip, you wonder if perhaps you should say something, eyes darting between them at a speedy pace.

A scream almost threatens to leave you when a hand taps you from behind, whirling around to be greeted to another person – one with ashy-grey hair and flushed cheeks.

“Please do ignore those two idiots and come in.”

He kindly smiles, immediately taking the suitcase from your grasps. You’re at a loss of words when he gestures for you to follow him, gaze still darting back to see Tae and Jungkook completely at each other’s necks. However when you hear your suitcase being strolled away, you hastily trail after him to catch up.

After rummaging through a couple of keys, he unlocks one of the doors and opens it wide.

“Here’s your room!” He declares and his arms stretch out, as if presenting to you a wonderful creation. When you step in with curious eyes, you notice immediately that it’s extremely small – just a narrow window and closet in the corner, only a third of what your room back home was like. It’s also something that Jimin regards right away.

“I know it’s not much, but I can assure you it’s cozy!”

And yet contrary to the room, you find yourself absolutely agreeing with him.

“I love it.” You whisper, eyes spread in awe when you pivot around your surroundings, utterly mesmerized until the man behind you chuckles. “Thank you– uh…”

“Jimin.” He reaches out a hand with a smile and you instantly take it as he tilts his head to the side, “Those two are Taehyung and Jungkook, they’ll be your roommates.”

“Oh, so you don’t live here?”

Jimin shakes his head, “I actually live next door, but Taehyung and Jungkook are my close friends so I come by often.”

You nod and he whirls around, eyes darting to outside of the room.

“Speaking of which….”

You trail behind him when he goes back to the living room, a new high-pitched voice soaring out.

“Hey! Don’t fight, don’t fight!” Your eyes catch sight of a man with brown hair standing in between Taehyung and Jungkook, his serious expression causing you to feebly cower behind Jimin. But that’s when his eyes dart over to you, and similar to a light switch, he immediately brightens up.

“Hi! You must be their new roommate!” Rushing over, he snatches you up into a hug right away and you turn into ice in his arms, “I’m Hoseok!”

“N-Nice to meet you.” You take a step back, clearing your throat as you naturally deepen your voice, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung frowns, “That’s a strange name for a guy.”

“I-It’s not really, it’s usually used for both genders so it’s not out of the ordinary for a guy to have it.” You suck in a breath when you've forgotten to breathe, all eyes in the room simultaneously glued to you.

Taehyung hums, “I guess you’re right.” He reaches out to grab Jungkook, who simply scoffs at him before his eyes roll over to you in curiosity, “As you might have heard already, I’m Taehyung and this grumpy twerp over here is Jungkook.”

“I would be less grumpy if you actually cleaned up for once in your life.”

“You really want to start this up again Kook?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at him, practically fuming as you dart your eyes all over the place. Hoseok flicks Taehyung against the forehead, causing him to whine as he tugs Jungkook over to his side.

“Will you two behave?! We have a new member in the room!” Hoseok scowls, donning a similar expression to before and they both immediately zip it.

Jimin giggles, “Seems like you’ll have quite some trouble on your hands Y/N. If these two aren’t getting their act together or bother you at all, don’t hesitate to call us.”

“Exactly!” Hoseok points over to Jimin with a grin, “We’re just next door so reach out whenever the case!”

“Thank you.” You whisper, softly smiling until an idea suddenly sparks in your mind. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking– do any of you know about the competitive basketball team here?”

“You like basketball?” Jungkook inquires, doe eyes growing wide. When you meekly nod, there’s an explosion of awe surfacing in the room.

“That’s great Y/N!” Hoseok exclaims, eagerly gazing at you, “Are you thinking of joining?”

When you nod, Taehyung jumps in, “We have our first meet tomorrow morning! You should come with us!”

“Us?” You question, hopeful eyes scanning their faces. Taehyung smiles, a proud expression on his features.

“You can say you’re looking at last year’s elite team, Bangtan Sonyeondan!”

“Still hate that name.” Jimin mumbles. 

Jungkook crosses his arms and scoffs, “I think it’s cool.”

“You and Namjoon are the only ones that actually like it,” Jimin rolls his eyes, before bringing his attention back to you, “but you should definitely come tomorrow Y/N.”

“Yeah! It’ll be so much fun!” Hoseok adds, causing you to smile.

“Of course.” You glance over at your room, an apologetic look appearing on your face, “I hate to break this up but I should really start unpacking…” 

“Hey no worries, we should all get some shut-eye for tomorrow.” Taehyung gestures over to Hoseok and Jimin, snapping his fingers, “And you two, out.”

Jimin pouts, “You can ask nicely…”

“Last time he did, you guys protested and fell asleep on our couch.” Jungkook’s eyes narrow onto Jimin’s, “and drooled all over my carpet.”

“To be fair, Hoseok pushed me off when I tried to cuddle and–  okay, okay we’re going!” Jimin holds his hands up in defence when Jungkook glares at him, grabbing onto his roommate and dragging him as he waves to you with a heart-shaped smile on his face. “Bye Y/N! It was nice meeting you!”

You giggle at Hoseok and Jimin offers you a kind smile, carefully closing the door behind him as Taehyung turns back to Jungkook.

“Now, does cleaning mean I have to do the dishes tonight?”

Jungkook grabs a dirty sock from the ground and throws it at him.

***

After spending countless of hours unpacking your belongings, you eventually decide to call it a night. You take a quick glance at the apartment, noticing the front door you had walked in had led into the living room – which aside from the couch and small TV, was still sprinkled around with Jungkook’s clutter. He had managed to get rid of the laundry Taehyung had mentioned along with some takeout boxes, though you’re not quite sure how Taehyung had seemed to convince him to do that. Taking a fast peek in the tiny kitchen, you notice there are no more dishes leftover either, so in a way you wonder if a compromise had somehow gotten established between the two.

When your head falls down onto the soft pillow you brought, you adjust yourself on the mattress you had plopped down on the ground, still exhausted from all the unpacking to set the bed up properly. Looking at the top of your headboard to the bottom where your blanket is, you recall that your room is right in between Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s, being the smallest one out of all them.

Thankfully, both of them have fallen asleep, the room being silent enough for your lids to flutter close.

***

A loud pounding sound jolts you awake, a bird’s nest resting on top of your head and half-lidded eyes darting around. You eventually realize the sound is coming from your door – another series of knocks greeting you once again.

“RISE AND SHINE Y/N! We have our first meet at 6 am sharp!” Your puffed-up eyes glance over at the clock you hanged up last night, the time reading 5:30 in the morning. With a sharp inhale, you scramble out of the bed and attempt to locate your comb and toothbrush.

“I’m awake Taehyung!” You hurriedly shout back, detangling your long hair at a quickened pace. Glancing around, you grab onto the short mop of hair sitting on the ground next to your bed, brushing it thoroughly before planting it onto your head.

“You better hurry! It looks like Jungkook’s cooking up some breakfast and I’m going to need help convincing him to share!” Taehyung retorts like he’s telling you a secret, a giggle being drawn out of you as you slide on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Not to worry, back-up is on its way!” You grab your shoes and sink your feet into them, a foaming toothbrush sticking out of your mouth.

When you finally come out, your greeted to the smell of freshly sizzled eggs and sweetening pancakes, eyes widening in surprise when Taehyung grins at your expression. After a full ten minutes of convincing Jungkook to share with the two of you – one that Taehyung had told you involved showering him with praises until he gave in – you’re happily chomping down as you race against the clock to head over to the court. Taehyung and Jungkook guide you through the buildings along the way, your eyes eagerly taking in every aspect of the school that you had just enrolled in.

“Oh, that’s the canteen!” Taehyung quickly says, “We usually eat there together after class.”

He starts pointing in several different directions, your eyes barely being able to keep up. “Classes happen there, those are the libraries, there’s also this really cool place called The Zone that let’s you get free food on Fridays.”

You nod, quite impressed with how well the school was built. Based on your own research, you had heard it was more catered towards students interested in the sports rather than academics, but there was a fair share of other things going on aside from the two.

“Guys.” Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he points to the gym, your breath almost being stolen at the sheer size of the building before you. Taehyung takes a glance at his watch, sucking in a sharp inhale when you’ve only gotten a couple of minutes left. He grabs hold of you and Jungkook instantly, dragging you along with him at a speed that has the air knocking out of your lungs.

“We’ll show you the rest later Y/N! I don’t want to get killed for being late again!”

He speeds down the hallways, a blur of yellow locker rooms whizzing past your vision alongside the vast expanse of water behind glass doors. However, the small handful of details you take in isn’t what has your expression contorting in absolute marvel.

It’s the massive gymnasium that Taehyung brings you into.

It would be a shame to put it into mere words, the large interior that rises high above to the ceiling, wide enough to fit at least 10 teams. The ground is decorated with various streaks of colours, hues of bright orange and fresh white. From the corner of your eye, you can see the long rows of bleachers – already the sounds of thrilled fans echoing through the gym.

The astonishment steaming from your eyes is stolen away when Taehyung plants you in a line-up, right next to Jungkook and a familiar individual with ashy-grey roots.

Jimin beams at the new sight of you, and from a distance, you can see Hoseok standing right to him – but instead of having a giant smile on his lips and eyes full of excitement, his shoulders are stiff and his gaze is hardened.

Confusion waves over you for a second until you feel a sharp jab to your waist that has you straightening up, not missing the subtle glare Jungkook holds.

Taking a deep breath, you’ve failed to miss how the large gym is quiet – including the boys that are currently lined up. It almost makes you feel like you’re in the military, a heavy silence in the air as everyone’s form remains ominously tense.

Before a million of questions are ready to spill by your lips, the sound of footsteps stops you. Just like the rest, you swivel your head to the right towards it and if you thought the gym itself had already taken you aback, you were definitely not prepared for this moment in time.

Similar to a hit of deja-vu, it’s vastly familiar. The dark maroon hair, the narrowed yet intrigued eyes, the basketball clutched tightly in his hands as if he was holding a prized possession. Every single thing about him has you nearly dropping dead onto the ground, but its something you whole-heartedly try to refrain from, especially when he walks past you with a slight frown.

He moves to stand in front of the boys, a programmed commanding stance embedded into him and trained eyes already resurfacing. 

Because in front of you stands the Min Yoongi.

The infamous captain of Bangtan Sonyeondan.

[xo-stardust720]

Swiping Right (Into Love)  - ch 2

Special thanks to @natrogersfics​ and @chalantness​ for editing this chapter!

Dedicated to @aquajules​ because I promised her a new birthday fic (which I started...) but then ended up working on this update and finishing it instead... and then this update ended up being late anyway... What can I say? I'm a human disaster. Happy belated birthday Emilee!

Steve has never been one to really go with the flow.

That isn’t to say that he’s super uptight about everything in general, but when his roommate/best friend comes home with some  exciting news, the tone of Bucky’s voice is enough to cause Steve some anxiety and to be immediately on his guard. There’s a certain amount of glee and exhilaration in the way his friend burst through their front door… and this is Steve’s warning sign that he’s about to be dragged into some sort of mishap that most likely won’t end well for him. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his oldest friend in the world -- there’s no one that he  trusts more than Bucky -- it’s just that, most of the time, trusting Bucky is what gets him into awkward situations in the first place.

(Awkward  was putting it mildly. It was usually a disaster.)

It’s been this way since they were kids. Where Bucky leads, he’s usually along for the ride. On the occasions that his mouth goes running off and gets him into trouble, good-ole Bucky is the one there to bail him out. Literally. He actually ended up in jail once, a fact that his best friend still delightedly brings up as a conversation topic to this day.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for his best friend, he’s pretty sure his life would be quiet. And boring.

It would probably be  really boring.

So when Bucky comes home and throws himself onto the couch next to him announcing, “guess what our plans are for the weekend?” -- his first instincts are to say no.

He goes with his gut.

“No,” he says, not even bothering to look up from the sketch in front of him.

“You don’t even know what we’re going to do yet,” Bucky immediately protests.

“Doesn't matter.”

“Steve, c’mon! At least wait until I tell you what happened to me today before you decide you’re not going. And by the way, you can’t say no. You are an essential component to this plan, and I won’t let you ruin it for me, you punk.”

"Jerk," he automatically replies, but then he's letting out a sigh as he turns to face his friend. "What happened?"

“So I met these two ladies at the bookstore today…”

He groans, already knowing where this conversation is heading. “Buck, tell me you didn’t set up  another  double date.”

His best friend smirks. “You know that I did. Why do you even bother asking?”

“Because sometimes I still have hope that you’ll realize the women you try to set me up with tend to end up disappointed, and that you won’t do it anymore," he says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, without me, you’d never go anywhere,” Bucky points out. “And I’ll admit, our dates could’ve been better vetted in the past. Sorry about that. They don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

“Did you at least tell her about me? So that I won’t be a shock to the system when she actually sees me for the first time?”

“I said all good things, I swear!”

“Bucky,” he sighs.

“No, seriously. You didn’t see these women, Steve. They were bombshells. We hit the jackpot!”  

Steve lets out another sigh. Bucky is always coming in all enthusiastic about whatever their next adventure is - this is how it's always been. Whatever Bucky's up to, he makes sure that he's never too far behind. Steve and Bucky 'til the end of the line, always, is what his best friend likes to repeat. And he believes him. Even if he never has anything else, he'll always have Bucky in his corner.

He turns back to his sketch, picking up the pencil that he’d abandoned and as he gets back to work, it prompts Bucky to begin telling the story of how his trip to the bookstore had ended up with a plan for the two of them to go on a double date with some strangers. In truth, it didn’t surprise Steve in the least that his friend somehow managed to infiltrate his way into a conversation after admitting to eavesdropping on everything they were saying. Bucky just had that kind of charm. “So, let me get this straight,” he says once his friend is done telling him what’d happened. “You’re setting me up with the girl that literally rejected  you  on Tinder. She actually swiped  left  on  you  -- which by the way, already sounds like a load of bullshit because  no one  ever swipes left on you. And after you showed her my picture, she agreed to be  my date  while her friend goes out with you.” He eyes his best friend doubtfully. “There are giant holes in this story, Buck.”

“But that’s what happened!” Bucky insists. “I had Natasha’s profile up on my Tinder and I’d swiped right and everything. We didn’t match. She really did say no to me!”

It's not as if Steve thinks his best friend is lying to him, per se. But the story sounds almost too good to be true. For most of their lives, Bucky has had very few problems when it comes to attracting members of the opposite sex. Hell, the same could be said for Bucky attracting members of their gender. People look twice whenever he walks past, and once Bucky had joined Tinder? Well, it's become even easier for him to fill a calendar with people to see and get to know.

But the same could not be said for him.

The day he joined Tinder, he did so with all the reluctance in the world and mostly at Bucky’s urging. His friend was having all the success (unsurprising) and wanted him to partake; which he mostly did so that Bucky would leave him alone and give him some peace. Even before he downloaded the app, he knew he wouldn’t have much luck on it, but as Bucky put it, “you never know, right? Some people actually find their future spouses there!”

Well, Steve did know. And as it turned out, he was right.

It started off well-enough at first. There were a few matches and, for a little while, Steve thought he was actually doing okay. Little by little, his hopes were raised and he thought  hey, maybe this new way of dating isn’t so bad. After all, no one wanted to be alone forever, right? It would be nice to have  some kind of companionship and to find the right partner. His profile was getting a few likes and the conversations were comfortable enough that he even went on a few first dates.

But after a couple of weeks, things started coming to a standstill.

The most annoying thing about Tinder though, was the ghosting - when the matches disappeared without any explanation. It's not something that Steve had purposely learned, but he didn't have to be a genius to figure out what was happening. The likes to his profile started dropping off, the conversations became the generic ‘How are you?  I’m fine and how are you doing? I’m good’ before stagnating. If he suggested they go get coffee, they'd stop replying. It was starting to become a pattern that he spotted immediately after the first couple of weeks. Having three separate first dates with three different women, he had a feeling that each woman was only in it for the free meal because they always suggested nice restaurants, but after the dates were over, there was never any follow up for a second date. As a gentleman, he believed that buying a girl dinner first before any romance started was the right thing to do. But realistically, it was starting to put a giant dent in his bank account, and if he started buying every woman dinner on the first date, he’d probably have no savings left.

This, on the other hand, did not seem to be a problem for Bucky, and Steve had resigned himself to accepting that sometimes other people just had all the luck. And looks. Bucky could get away with just about anything when he flashes his smile that seems to melt even butter. Steve lost track of how many coffee dates Bucky has had in the last couple months and it would seem he never had to worry about his bank account balances.

If Tinder has taught Steve anything, it is that most of the people who signed up for it really relied heavily on physical attributes. If you were attractive, you’d have a much better chance of getting a second and third date. And since everyone knows that Tinder is a hookup app, Steve knows he doesn't stand much of a chance there, either. He isn't the exception to the rule and he knows it. He will be forever known as Skinny Steve, the option no one wanted… not when there are other guys around that are taller, better looking, and more muscular. Women always seem to fixate on those particular characteristics and it isn’t like Steve could climb into a chamber and magically come out big and strong. He has what he has, and for the most part, he is alright with it. It doesn’t stop him from wishing from time to time that things could be different and that the world isn’t as shallow and vapid as the app makes it out to be, but alas, he tries not to dwell on it too much.

Bucky has even tried to help him out. He was the camera man behind all of his profile pictures and even helped edit his biography when he felt that what he had written down didn’t have enough “spice” to grab a woman’s attention. Quite frankly, it was exhausting trying to come up with some interesting facts about himself on the off chance that someone  might look past his pictures long enough to read. And even after all the effort Bucky put into changing his profile around, in the end he had decided to change his bio to simply say, “Hi, I’m Steve.” The people he matches with would either want to get to know him, or they’ll move on… it’s out of his hands.

He doesn’t even go on the app much anymore. Why bother when he knows people aren’t really going to swipe right on him? He was rejected enough on a regular basis.

Feeling Bucky’s expectant gaze, Steve tries his best to ignore it and to continue working away at his sketch. His best friend, never one to be ignored though, just pokes him in the shoulder. He was going to be annoying about this, he just knew it. Brushing back a stray hair that fell into his face, he faces his friend and gives him a small smile. “When is this aforementioned date?”

His best friend grins triumphantly. “After you’re done work on Friday, of course.”

“And where are we going?”

“Leave it all to me,” Bucky pats him on the back, gripping his shoulder with support in the way he always does. “I’ll tell the girls to meet us at your shop and we’ll go from there.”

Steve loves Bucky, he does, but Bucky has zero perspective about these things. Steve doesn’t see how this time would be different from any other time but he tries not to let the apprehension show on his face. He makes one last ditch effort to get out of going. “I don’t know, Buck. Look, maybe you should just tell ‘em I got sick or that something came up. Take Sam with you, I’m sure this girl would probably be happier to see Sam in my place.”

“She saw your picture and she said  yes to you! She’s amazing, Steve. Red hair. Green eyes. Literally looks like she could be a model. She might actually be one for all I know… I didn’t really get a chance to find out what she does for a living.”

“Well, at least she’s seen a picture of what I look like and knows what she’s in for. I was getting tired of people looking at me like you sold them some gold and what they actually got was bronze,” Steve sighs as the last of his resistance fades away and resigns himself to going along with Bucky’s plan. “Alright, I’ll go, but only because she was nice enough to say yes and it would be rude if I don’t show up.”

“It’s gonna be a great night, Steve! You’ll see!”

----

Over the next few days, Steve watches as Bucky becomes increasingly more excited about their “hang out” as it was described. Usually his friend would be the picture perfect of calm when it came to first dates, casually shrugging it off as if it was no big deal. The fact that Bucky was flitting around and trying to find the perfect activity for them to do, told Steve that perhaps,  this date  was different. At least, it seems to be different for Bucky.

Friday night, at 5:50pm on the dot, Steve waits with Bucky outside of his shop for the two girls that would be their dates for the evening. “Hey, there they are. The brunette is Wanda and the redhead is Natasha.”

Steve’s gaze immediately lands on the redhead as the two women walk towards them and he feels his heart lurch. This woman is  gorgeous. Her red hair falls in long smooth waves past her shoulders, she wears only a little makeup--dark mascara and a little pink on the lips--but she doesn't need more. Natasha is slightly shorter than her friend, and she’s all curves--Steve apologizes internally for even lingering on that but he wants to draw her because she has the proportions of a work of art. She looks like a movie star, or a model that Bucky had previously claimed she might be.

It makes Steve want to disappear. Perhaps it’s the cowardly way out, but he almost doesn’t want to meet Natasha because he wants to remember her in the moment before they meet, before the dismay sets in and she looks for an excuse to leave once she sets eyes on him. The girls are getting closer and then it’s too late, they’re there in front him and he can’t run away now. He takes a deep breath and steels himself for the disappointed expression girls always seem to have when they see him for the first time.

That expression never comes. Instead, Steve looks up into a friendly smile as the redhead extends her hand out to him. “Hi, I’m Natasha.” There’s no trace of the apprehension or disillusionment that usually accompanies the blind dates that Bucky sets him on. Natasha looks at him with attentiveness, like she’s already found him interesting and couldn’t wait to find out more.  

“Steve Rogers. It’s nice to meet you.” He can’t believe his voice works and that he remembers to take her hand. Her grip is strong and firm as she shakes his hand. Her skin feels soft and her nails are painted a bold shade of emerald green, he notices. She’s so well put together that it seems effortless, like she just woke up that morning and threw on the first thing she found in her closet without even looking. “Thanks for coming.”

“Well, I couldn’t pass up a chance to meet a guy that’s worth more than ten times other men I’ll meet collectively or so Bucky says,” Natasha winks at him. Her tone is flirtatious and he doesn’t know how to react. This is brand new territory for Steve Rogers.

“He said that about me?” Steve asks. He glances over at Bucky only to see that he’s completely wrapped up in Wanda, and he realizes that he’s still holding onto Natasha’s hand and he lets go, hoping that he doesn't come off too gawky and blundering.

Natasha grins as she lets her hand slip from his, and there’s something about her, the sparkle in her eyes and the colour in her cheeks, that has captured his attention so completely.  “He said a lot of nice things,” she reassures him. “Quite a friend you’ve got there, Steve.”

Before Steve could respond, Bucky approaches them. His arm is already around Wanda’s shoulders, looking as comfortable as can be and Steve wishes he could be the kind of guy that could pull off a move like that without looking horribly awkward. Natasha isn’t that much shorter than him and it probably could work if Steve tried, but he doubts it would be as smooth. He takes a moment to study Wanda, and he understands exactly why his best friend is so besotted by her already. Wanda is all smiles, and bubbly, as she extends her own hand to greet him and he finds that he’s immediately charmed by her.

“So, where are we going?” Wanda asks.

“Coney Island,” Bucky replies. “Games, awesome rides, great food - what more could you want on a first date?”

“Oooh! That sounds fun!” Wanda grins.

Steve groans internally and probably didn’t hide his expression well enough because Natasha catches it. “Not a fan of amusement parks?” she asks, looking curious.

“It’s not that,” he replies. “Just remembering what happened the last time I rode the Cyclone.”

“He threw up,” Bucky adds, smiling with glee.

They made small talk as they rode the train to their destination. People look at Steve differently, he notices right away. It’s not just that he’s with someone like Natasha, it’s that she actually seems like she wants to be there, conversing with him in a way that shows a lot of interest and energy and she’s paying no attention to anyone around them. It’s already one of the strangest dates he’s ever been on -- strange in a  good  way -- though what makes it weirder is the way people look at him when they see the company he keeps. It’s no surprise that Natasha turns heads everywhere she goes, she’s so stunning that Steve expects it. What  is  a surprise is that when the men look at her and then look at him, their expressions change -- and Steve can tell they’re wondering how he scored with someone so beautiful. Women tilt their heads, looking him over speculatively in a way that says  what does she see in him  -- and he does his best not to display any discomfort when he notices them staring.

Natasha carries most of the conversation between them and for that Steve is grateful. He’s in uncharted territory here, unable to completely process what is happening as the evening progresses. He has no idea what to say and figures it’s better to keep quiet, rather than risk saying something completely stupid.  He learns that she works in public relations, on special retainer to Tony Stark, New York’s very own famous billionaire and self-proclaimed genius, playboy, and philanthropist. She does a lot of damage control whenever Tony gets caught by the paparazzi doing something inappropriate for one thing or another. It keeps life interesting, she describes, you never know what he’s going to do next and the amount of money she makes is more than enough to compensate for the headaches he causes on a regular basis.

They talk about a variety of topics as they move through the amusement park. For a Friday night, Coney Island wasn’t too terribly busy, but it was crowded enough that they lost Bucky and Wanda part way through the first hour. Steve’s pretty sure that their friends disappeared on purpose and his suspicions were confirmed by Natasha when she shows him the message on her phone.

Wanda:  Let’s meet up later for dessert! That pastry shop in Bensonhurst around 10pm?  

“I’m 99% sure that we aren’t going to see them for the rest of the night, honestly,” Natasha rolls her eyes as she reads over Wanda’s text. She quickly types out  let’s meet up tomorrow instead xx, before putting her phone back into her purse. “So, I’m feeling a little hungry. Want to get some hot dogs?”

Steve blinks. “You mean, you still want to hang out?”

Natasha gives him an odd look before one of understanding crosses her features. There’s a small smile on her face as she nods. “Well yeah… I mean, we’re already here and I was promised a fun night. Did you want to leave?”

“No!” Steve bursts out. “I don’t- I just-- ” He feels his face begins to heat up as he awkwardly tries to figure out how to explain that this whole evening is an anomaly for him. It isn’t the first time Bucky’s “ditched” him on a double date in the hopes that the date would lead to something more. He’s done it once before and it was such a disaster that Bucky swore he wouldn’t do it again unless he was 100% sure Steve’s date wasn’t going to ditch him as well. The fact that Bucky’s essentially left him with a stranger now spoke volumes. And once again, Steve is struck by the realization that Natasha actually wants to spend time with him. He takes a deep breath. “You said you were hungry?”

The only place to get hot dogs, in Steve’s opinion, is at Nathan’s. Anywhere else and it’s just blasphemy. He pays for their food and drinks, despite Natasha’s protests that she could pay for herself (another first for him, he notices), and he lays out his coat on the sand for them to sit on when they decide to eat near the beach. Natasha sits close enough to him that he can feel her body heat radiating off her. She’s practically pressed up against him.  “So, you’re a tattoo artist,” she says, as she takes a bite of her hot dog. “Forgive me for saying so Steve, but you definitely don’t look like a person that would be tattooing people for a living. How did you get into that as a career?”

He laughs because it’s true, he’s not your typical tattoo artist. People often walk into his shop and do a double-take when they see him sitting behind the counter. He’s not big and burly like some tattoo artists, nor does he look intimidating either. “I kind of accidentally fell into it actually,” he shrugs. “I worked at a coffee shop throughout high school, and was always drawing something during my breaks for my portfolio… the plan was to try and save up money for art school. There was this guy, Drax, he was a regular at the coffee shop and he saw one of my drawings one day and offered me money for the design.”

“What was the original career plan?”

“There wasn’t one really…” he finishes up his hot dog and takes a sip of his lemonade. “Art was the one thing I was good at so the plan was to try and make a go of a career, wherever that took me. I’ve done some illustrations for children’s books and some graphic novels. In my spare time, I draw up some art based on popular tv characters or from movies and then make prints of the art to sell at comic cons. It does pretty well whenever I go to an event. Most of my income comes from tattooing though. It’s a pretty steady gig and it pays the bills.”

“Wow,” Natasha grins. “So how did you go from drawing art, to tattooing people’s skin?”

“Well, after Drax bought my first drawing, he came back two days later and asked to see more drawings and bought them all. He paid me enough money to cover my first year of college! Over time people were requesting more of my drawings to be tattooed and so he brought me on to do commission work. People would email me ideas of what they wanted for their tattoos and once they were satisfied, Drax would come in and tattoo them. He offered me an apprenticeship halfway through my college degree and I thought, why not? I’m still drawing and doing what I love, and I get to meet some interesting people too. And it turns out I have a pretty steady hand when it comes to tattooing people. The rest is kind of history.”

“That’s quite a story, Steve,” Natasha looks thoughtful as she smiles at him. “Can’t say I’ve ever met anyone quite like you.”

Heat rushes to his cheeks and he runs a hand through his hair. “Uh…I-” he stammers. “Me either. About you, I mean.”

She tilts her head slightly as she looks at him through her eyelashes. “I like it. You are a surprising person, Steve Rogers.”

Steve has no idea how to read the signals that she’s giving off. She’s looking at him expectantly, like she’s waiting for him to do something and it’s all he can do to try and keep up. She has a wonderfully expressive face, sharp lines and hollow cheeks but plump lips and beautiful green eyes framed by dark lashes -- and long red hair that looks so impossibly soft that it makes him want to run his hands through it.

  Does she want me to kiss her?  

The thought enters his mind as Natasha lifts her chin a fraction of an inch and she shifts even closer. His heart is pounding so loudly in his chest that he’s sure she could hear it from where she is sitting. She has his complete attention now, and he’s unable to look anywhere else but her lips. He thinks she wants him to kiss her but he doesn’t want to presume. Everything about this night is already so unprecedented and he doesn’t want to fuck it up in any way.

“Well, well,” a voice cuts in. “Doesn’t this look all cozy?”

Steve’s pulled out from the spell he’s under and he looks up to see a man and a woman he doesn’t recognize standing a few feet away from where they're sitting. He feels Natasha sit up straighter and she pulls away slightly as she turns to face them. Within seconds, the Natasha he had been interacting with disappears and a new version of her appears. She eyes the people in front of them warily, a polite but distant smile emerges. “Elektra,” she acknowledges, her voice even and void of emotion. Her eyes flit over to the man next to Elektra and if possible, Steve thought her voice became even colder. “Matt.”

“Hi Natasha,” Matt’s voice is low, his body language indicating exactly how awkward he is feeling. “I thought I heard your voice. It’s… uh… nice to see you.” Matt smiles wryly, as he fidgets with his cane and Steve suddenly realizes that the man is  blind. It certainly explains why he was wearing sunglasses at night. “Pun intended, of course.”

Natasha hums, but doesn’t say anything more. Instead, she stares up at them and even though she’s sitting, somehow the redhead is more intimidating in her stance than the two people standing. Steve has no idea what’s going on, but it definitely feels as if he’s accidentally stumbled into some kind of awkward situation that he has no privy too. Elektra is watching them with so much interest that it makes him feel more than slightly uncomfortable. “You look  so  happy, Natasha darling,” she coos, though it’s clear that the tone of her voice is more haughty than it is sincere. “How  wonderful.”

He has no idea what makes him do it, but he listens to his gut instinct and shifts so he slides in closer. He wraps an arm around Natasha’s shoulders and smirks, staring right at Elektra and silently challenging her to contradict him. “Thanks,” he says, confidently. His tone implies more than words ever could. “Her happiness is my top priority. If anyone can see it, it means I’m doing my job right.”

Elektra’s eyes narrow but she doesn’t say anything more. Instead, she wraps herself around Matt’s arm, clinging to him as if she has something to prove. Natasha turns, paying them no mind, and gives Steve a warm smile. It’s a smile that tells him she’s grateful, that she’s glad he’s there. “Enjoy your evening,” Natasha dismisses them and leaves them no choice but to shuffle awkwardly away. She lets out a sigh of relief once the couple is out of earshot and slumps into him. “Thanks for doing that. You didn’t have to help me save face in front of them, but you did and I really appreciate that.”

He really wants to know what that was all about but felt it was too rude to ask. It isn’t really his business anyway. He gives himself a few seconds to enjoy the way her body is nestled against his before pulling away. It isn’t gentlemanly, he reminds himself. It’s better to let her cuddle up when she truly wants to and not when it was a ruse to fool other people into thinking they were a couple when they actually weren’t.  “Don’t mention it,” he smiles at her as he stands up, holding his hand out to her. “Want to go for a walk? Or we can go play some games, we still have some credits to use up.”

“Sure, let’s go play whack-a-mole.” She peers at him, tilting her head as if she’s trying to figure him out. After a moment, she grasps his hand and pulls herself up, dusting off the sand that’s caught on to the hem of her jeans. She grabs his jacket and then slips her arm through his as they begin to walk away from the beach. “I have the urge to hit something.”

True to her word, they found themselves at the brightly coloured tent minutes later and Steve’s watching as Natasha eagerly uses the toy mallet to hit the plastic moles that appear at random before disappearing back into their holes. Natasha’s efficient as she hammers away, and Steve’s coming to find that when she puts her mind to something, she succeeds. The alarm above the score panel flashes red, indicating that she’s the winner. She turns to him in triumph, a wide grin on her face and the sparkle back in her eyes. “Pick your prize.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t it be me that wins you something?”

“Don’t play into gender roles, Steve,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Pick something!”

He lets out a laugh as he looks up at the brightly coloured stuffed animals hanging from the tent and one immediately catches his eye. “The giraffe, please.”

“Interesting choice,” she looks at him curiously as the attendant hands him his new stuffed toy and they begin to wander off. “Why choose the giraffe and not the lion, or the penguin?”

“Giraffes are my spirit animal.”

“I… had no idea what I was expecting you to say, but that was not it,” she laughs. “Are you serious?”

“Well yeah,” he shrugs. “I mean, who doesn’t love giraffes? They’re one of the world's most majestic creatures. Most people automatically choose animals like lions, or tigers for their power.  Or they go for the cute and cuddly animals, like bunnies and pot-bellied pigs. But giraffes? People tend to miss out when it comes to giraffes.”

“But not you, huh?”

Why in the world is he talking about giraffes? Steve has no idea how their conversation has come to this but here he is, telling her his love for giraffes. All he can do is roll with it.

Perhaps it was the dim lighting from the street lamps all over the park, but Steve thinks that Natasha is looking at him differently from the way all women usually look at him. She looks at him like she finds him cute, like she enjoys their conversation and wants to keep it going. “Well, giraffes tend to stick their necks out and stand tall when they’re trying to reach for leaves, and have the ability to look down from above -- and I think that’s a beautiful personification for life. Like, don’t just be one with the crowd, fight for what you believe in and always try to see the bigger picture.”

He feels her gaze, and knows that she’s listening to his every word. “Something tells me that you fight for what you believe in, don’t you?”

“I mean… yeah? I try? If I see a situation point south, I can’t ignore it. Sometimes I wish I could.”

“Do you ever run away?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You start running, they’ll never let you stop. I grew up smaller than those around me and never really fit in anywhere either. My small size made me an easy target but I always try to give as good as I get. That’s one of the reasons why I like giraffes so much… they’re such gentle creatures but they don’t confuse size with strength. Size doesn’t always guarantee might or ability. Plus, they’re loyal to those who have earned it and they’re weird looking -- like me. So, that’s why I consider them my spirit animal.”

"I don't think you're weird looking," Natasha smiles. “I think I’m going to start seeing giraffes in a whole new light now.”

He has no idea how to react to the words she'd just said, so he keeps quiet, all the while feeling his cheeks burn red hot. They fall into comfortable silence as they walk along the path leading out of the amusement park, away from the crowds and into a quieter street. It’s getting late and the evening is almost over, he realizes regretfully. He doesn’t want it to end. It’s the best first date he’s ever been on and he’d definitely like to see her again if she allows it.

He tries his best to gather the words in his mouth. “So…” he trails off as he slips his hands into his pockets, the giraffe tucked tight underneath his arm. He has no idea how to do this. Usually his dates would make excuses to leave as soon as possible, and the ones that did stay always indicated that they would get in touch but never did.

Natasha waits as he pauses and heaves a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair in obvious anxiety, eyes unable to meet her gaze. He mumbles something beneath his breath, and Natasha blinks, “I’m sorry?” She asks, wanting for him to repeat the words he’d just said.

This time, Steve looks directly into her eyes, and when the words leave his mouth, Natasha’s reaction was not one he was entirely expecting.

“ -- do you want to go out again?” was what Steve said, the second time louder and with much more clarity than before. He gnaws on his lower lip, preparing for some kind of rejection as Natasha’s eyes widen slightly, clearly a little surprised. The next few words stumble out of Steve’s mouth hurriedly before he could even stop himself. “I mean, I completely understand if you don’t want to--”

“Steve,” Natasha interrupts him gently. She smiles softly. “Are you sure that  you  want to go out again?”

When she utters those words, his jaw drops and he just stops and stares at her with aghast, as though what she had just asked was unthinkable. He’s definitely confused now and he shakes his head in disbelief. “What? ”

“All night long, I’ve been trying to figure you out, Steve.” The redhead in front of him shrugs. “You know, when Bucky first suggested this double date I was really hesitant. But your friend said some wonderful things about you and I thought, ‘what the hell, why not... got nothing to lose’ and I found myself feeling kind of excited for the date all week.” She tilts her head slightly, meeting his gaze head on. “I even found your profile on Tinder and swiped right, hoping that we could maybe chat a little bit before the date but we never matched.”

Steve is flummoxed and somewhat speechless as he listens to Natasha speak, baffled at her words. It takes a few seconds for her words to truly sink in and his eyes widen in pure bewilderment. Somehow he finds his voice. “Really? You swiped  right  on my profile?”

“I did,” she nods. “And then tonight… I mean, I asked a lot of questions and you answered them, but you never really asked any questions of your own to get to know me… and you didn’t even question it when Matt and Elektra interrupted us! So I started to think maybe you weren’t really interested in me, that maybe I was wasting your time.”

That sentence is the  last  thing Steve would have ever expected to hear from someone like Natasha. She thought that he  wasn’t  interested in  her? It takes a longer time for the entire exchange to sink in, but when it does, Steve is annoyed with himself. His mind is running through the entire evening that they’d just spent together and he comes to find that she’s right. All of the things he’s learned about her in the last few hours were all things that she volunteered herself. He hadn’t asked her anything to show that he was interested. It’s no wonder she’s questioning his interest in her. He’s flustered as he quickly shakes his head, “Natasha, I’m sorry --”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Natasha waves her hands in the air, cutting off Steve’s attempt to explain himself. “I think I kind of had some stupid expectations of Tinder… I mean, expecting us to match was probably a little presumptuous and that’s on me.”

“I am interested,” he blurts out, holding her gaze. “I’m sorry that I gave you the impression that I wasn’t because it couldn’t be further from the truth. And as for Tinder… well, I don’t really go on the app or have my notifications on anymore.”

She blinks. “You don’t?”

So far his experience of the app has been shit. The only reason he downloaded it was because Bucky had made a comment on his nonexistent love life and  fuck, he let that get to him. But here was this beautiful woman standing in front of him and telling him that she had swiped right for him.  For him. And evidently, had been disappointed to find that they hadn’t matched.

“Well, I never seem to get any matches, so I kinda just stopped trying. I probably should've deleted my profile altogether, but I kinda forgot about it after awhile.” There's a masochistic part of Steve that speaks up. “Do I disappoint you?” He wonders if he does. He wonders if he did before he asked. He’s disappointed plenty before without meaning to.

There’s a bit of a cheeky twist to Natasha’s smile as she laughs slightly and shakes her head. “Well, not so far.” She takes a step closer and he feels his heart rate pick up. In the dim lighting, her eyes look impossibly large as she stares at him. He feels the warmth radiating from her as she leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek. She pulls back, smiling softly now as she takes in his expression. “I had a lot of fun today, Steve. And I’d like to go on a real date if you’re up for it.”

“But?” he prompts, realizing that she still had a few things to say.

“Despite what a lot of guys assume, I’m not an easy piece of ass,” Natasha shrugs, waving off his attempts to protest against what she was saying. She looks at him with a wistful expression. “I like it when people put in a little effort… and maybe my way of thinking is a little ridiculous, but  I know  I’m worth the effort.”

Steve is still gaping at her as she turns and hails a cab, leaving him there on the sidewalk. Just before the cab pulls away though, Natasha rolls down the window and gives him a mischievous grin. “Why don’t you think about it, Steve? Look for me on Tinder. Find my profile and swipe right, and then maybe I’ll give you my number.” Her playful grin turns into a soft and hopeful smile. “I’ll take a chance if you will.”

Steve watches the cab drive away, still unable to believe what had just happened. Natasha actually seemed sincere. It felt like she actually wanted him to find her and even though it’s a foreign concept to him right now, he feels  encouraged. It's been years since he’s gotten butterflies and yet that is the only way he can describe how he feels in this very moment.

He thinks about Natasha’s words a lot as he heads home, going over every little detail of the evening in his mind. She wanted him to find her, wanted him to work for it…  I know I’m worth it, she’d said. Though Steve has no doubts that the redhead is worth it, there’s a part of him that can’t help the trepidation he feels anyway. Natasha is amazing and beautiful, and completely out of his league and he knows it. It was infinitely easier when he’d thought this date would be a one and done kind of deal.

And yet. And  yet.

She wants to go out again, he reminds himself. On a real  date. Just the two of them.  Alone.

He pulls his phone towards him and unlocks it, scrolling until his eyes land on the tiny pink icon and taps on it. Dozens of profiles immediately load onto the screen, one after another, and he starts swiping left, looking for one profile in particular. When he downloaded the app in the first place, he hadn’t expected to get very far. Everyone knows that Tinder isn’t the safest way to find love, and Steve is aware of it to and wasn't too hopeful about it -- he just never expected something like this situation to happen.

Forty-five minutes pass and he’s still swiping left, when suddenly he freezes. His thumb, that had been ready to swipe left, halts its motion, and he stares at the photo that’s on his phone. At those eyes that look familiar, green and wide-eyed. At the tilt of her mouth, that Steve is coming to recognize as the start of a warm grin. Even in her pictures, Natasha is dazzling and he can understand why she assumed people would swipe right on her profile. She probably has her pick of men. He can’t imagine anyone swiping left on her.

His heart pounding, his thumb presses to the screen and he swipes right. There’s a moment of panic, the urge to drop his phone… to hide it. He can pretend this never happened and his life could go back to normal. He breathes out shakily, breathes in a bit more evenly. Why is he so nervous? She had said to find her, hadn’t she? It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

And then his screen lights up.