#my last reread I was like really warming up to him

[moghedien]

i actually just unironically love Galad now if I'm being honest

[andillneverbethesame]

Its nice to have a friend with james and ravenclaw!reader pls 🙏

love this! thank u for the request <3

it's nice to have a friend

❥ james potter x ravenclaw fem reader, remus lupin x sirius black

❥ summary; you and james swear you two are only friends. except you're not.

❥ warnings; none really.just not reread for gramatical mistakes

❥ a/n: this is very shorttt sorryy

my ts masterlist pt 1, pt 2

“alright, class," professor sinitra said at the end of the astronomy lesson. "that's the end for today. i'll see you all next week. and don't forget your essays about your birth planet!”

“finally,” you sighed in relief. “i am so exhausted.” you hated these friday astronomy lessons at midnight. but you were grateful you didn't need to be up early the next day.

“me too,” pandora yawned. she looked as if she was already half asleep. everyone seemed to be. except james potter, who was now making his way to you with an energetic smile on his face.

“hello, y/n," he grinned and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“hello, jamie.”

“can i walk you to ravenclaw tower?” he asked you and you raised your eyebrow. “it's not safe for a pretty girl like you to walk around the castle at night.”

“i won't be alone,” you replied. “i got pando—” you turned around to your friend who was next to you just five seconds ago. however, she was nowhere to be seen then. “or no. . . well, then i guess you can walk me.”

on the way, you notice james walked unusually slow. he always walked so fast that you almost had to run to catch up with him but this evening, it seemed as if you were faster than him. as if he wanted to make this walk last as long as possible.

you smiled as you shook your head at the ridiculous thought. you and james were only friends. you've always been just that.

“do you wanna hang out tomorrow at hogsmeade?” james suddenly asked.

you glanced at him. “what about the boys?”

“well, sirius and remus are having a date and peter still feels sick. it would be just the two of us. we could go to honey dukes and get the strawberry chocolate you like so much. and then we could stop at madam puddifoot's and get some tea and cake,” he offered. it almost sounded like a date. you cursed yourself again for the thought.

“you hate madam puddifoot's,” you pointed out the flaw in his plan.

“but you like her jasmine tea,” james said. and i like you, he wanted to add. “come on, it's my treat.”

you rolled your eyes. “you don't need to pay me for hanging out with you, jamie. i'd love to spend time with you in hogsmeade. it'll be fun."

james waited at you in front of the ravenclaw tower at ten in the morning sharp, just like he promised.

despite the fact that it was not a date and just two friends hanging out, you spend quite some time getting ready, wanting it to be perfect.

pandora teased you from her spot on her bed as she watched you chosing between two outfits — dark blue sweatshirt with black skirt and black sweatshirt with white skirt (you chose the second option in the end). you could only roll your eyes and deny every single one of her accusations but you both knew very well what was the truth.

james was wearing his gryffindor sweatshirt and opted to pair it with black pants. his hair was a mess, as always, looking like he had just gotten out of the bed without even trying to style it. he complained about it often but you thought it suited him well.

“ready?" he asked with his hands in his pockets, a smile lighting up his face.

“ready.” you nodded.

“where do you wanna go first?” james questioned as you two entered the village. a lot of people were there every day, but especially today when almost five hundred of hogwarts students decided to spend the day there.

“i'd really love to get the tea at madam puddifoot's now,” you answered honestly. “i'm feeling rather cold and need to warm up,” you blew warm breath on your hands and rubbed them together, hoping for at least temporally feeling of warmth. but it was no use. you almost couldn't feel your fingers anymore.

“why didn't you take gloves with you?” james asked.

“i lost them,” you replied with a pout on your lips. james then took off his pair of black gloves from his hands and handed them to you. “i— but. . what about you?”

he waved it off. “don't worry. i'll be fine.”

“are you sure?”

he nodded and you could tell he really meant it.

you two ended up at three broomsticks for a late lunch. despite each of you eating a piece of cake, a chocolate bar and shared a packet of sour candies, you two found yourselves quite hungry after all the walking.

madam rosmerta greeted you as soon as you walked in (though she was mainly talking to james, who ordered two butterbeers and then winked at her) and you chose a table by the window.

“what would you like?” james asked. “it's on me.”

you gave him a look. “i am not completely broke, y'know? you paid enough for me today. let me pay for you once, too.”

“not happening,” was james's immediate response as he shook his head. “i am a gentleman.”

“i never said you weren't,” you laughed. “but you can't pay for me all the time. i'm not your girlfriend.”

that seemed to shut him up as he couldn't think of anything else to say. at that moment, rosmerta came to your table with butterbeers and asked what would you like to have for your meal.

“i'll have shephard's pie," you spoke.

“beef pasties for me. thank you, rosmerta,” james smiled.

“thank you for today, jamie,” you said once the woman walked away. “i really needed this. i've been so stressful with everything that's going on.”

the boy knew exactly what you were talking about. attacks on muggles and muggleborn wizards and witches have been more and more frequent this year. a lot of your friends were muggleborns, and so was your dad. you prayed every day, begging whoever was up there to not let anything happen to those you loved.

james nodded understandingly. he, too, was worried for the future of the wizarding world. and he knew that he will be joining the order of the phoenix as soon as he could, and he'd be fighting for the good side as hard as he could.

his hand reached across the table for yours, squeezing it lightly for some kind of comfort to give you. you smiled sadly at him and sweets his hand back.

“yeah, me too. i'm sure everything will be okay,” he tried to reassure you. but you both weren't so sure. you weren't going to ruin this moment, though.

“thank you. it's nice to have a friend like you,” you said and james nodded.

yeah, he thought. a friend.

from across the room, remus and sirius, although they were on their own date, were watching you two with an immense interest.

“remus, he touched her hand!” sirius whisper-yelled at his boyfriend and hit him lightly as if he was trying to catch his attention as if remus wasn't spying on you two either. “he touched her hand!”

“yes, sirius, i'm not blind!” remus replied.

“come on, kiss!” the dark-haired boy began to pray. “i'm tired of them tiptoeing around each other like that.”

remus raised an eyebrow as he looked at sirius. “you did the same with me.”

“shut up.”

a month later, it was valentine's day and you had no one to spend it with.

all of your friends were going on a date with their partners or potential partners, but you were in bed with book.in your hands and a cup of tea on your bedside table. no one was in your dorm, leaving you completely interrupted to get lost in the story.

that was until there was a knock on your door.

you groaned. the words on the pages seemed to be getting rather. . . interesting.

"who is it?"

"your favourite boy in the whole world." was the answer and you quickly sat up and fixed your appearance. you'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"come in!" the door opened, revealing james in a black suit and a big boquet of flowers in his hand. your mouth opened at his look. he looked really attractive, don't get me wrong, but you couldn't understand why was he dressed like that. "what's going on?"

"well, dear y/n, me and you are going on a date, that's what's going on."

"on a date?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. "as. . . friends?"

james shook his head. "no, not as friends. we're more than that." he didn't give you a time to say anything before he continued with, "get ready. i'll wait in the common room."

you blinked in confusion as you watched him close the door and then you squealed once you were sure he was far enough to not hear you.

[princessbrunette]

hi princess! i was rereading one of ur fics today and was wondering in what situation rafe would have to use the belt on bunny? it doesn’t seem like he does it a lot :(

no he doesn’t a lot because honestly she behaves for the most part. she’s not bratty and doesn’t really mouth off, so the only time he’s had to use the belt on her was to really get a message across.

◌ ⊹ 🐰 𓏲࣪⋆ 💗 𓄹 ࣪ .

you’d scared him, wandering off around the cut to wind up at barry’s house. you were sweet and way too friendly by nature. rafe knew that, barry clearly knew that. the last time you’d been at his house with rafe, barry had told you that you were welcome to drop by any time and visit him. that you were friends. you being the poor innocent soul that you were had believed him.

you’d shown up on a busier day, clutching a little shoulder bag to your side, tottering along in a mini skirt as barry’s house was occupied with many people. you weren’t used to seeing so many people hang out there, rafe had been careful to only bring you on days where it was just barry infact. he didn’t know what kinds of people barry brought around and didn’t wanna stick around and find out.

a couple of guys jeered at you as you’d walked in, calling out to barry with “yo barry, there’s a lil’ princess at your door.” you didn’t take offence to it, infact you smiled — warming to the nickname. barry was elated to see you, inviting you in, offering you a drink, chatting away. the whole thing to him was hilarious, just another thing to hold over rafe’s head.

you’d texted rafe that you had been there, and he’d arrived within ten minutes, hauling you out of there by the arm. once home, he’d yanked you over his lap — furious.

“you know you put yourself in danger, right? you do that shit on purpose, huh? answer me.” he grits his teeth, gripping the back of your neck when you squirm.

“no! he said he wanted to be my friend!” you wail, humiliated with your panties down by your ankles, ass up on his lap. he scoffs, shaking his head as he frees his belt from his pants.

“yeah… nah, he didn’t want to be your friend. you gotta learn your lesson, alright? i gotta know you’re never gonna pull that shit on me again. that understood?”

“don’t want the belt.” you mewl, and he grips your throat, leaning down to your ear.

“i don’t care what you want…‘kay? it’s a punishment. you’re not meant to like it, kid.”

◌ ⊹ 🐰 𓏲࣪⋆ 💗 𓄹 ࣪ .

[vaaaaaiolet]

It's the RPD's annual Secret Santa, and Leon's at his wit's end finding the perfect gift for his work crush. No competition, of course, except for the part where you make him promise not to bring something lame. Leon's got a week. He can do this. Right?

gn / m, fluff, romance, humor, leon is a SWEETHEART, you guys work at the RPD but you're leon's senior and also love reading??, no outbreak, inspired by the teapot episode of The Office lol, tw: claustrophobia

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

a/n: vivi try not to mention christmas challenge go!!! @k1ssaphobe this one's for you <3 literally the ugliest effing banner i've ever made i'm SO SORRY but this completely destroyed my writer's block. i had so much fun <3

It’s all been downhill since Leon plucked your name out of a glass jar last week. Shit. Multiply that times three, rain down a couple red and green sprinkles for holiday spirit, and you have a great representation of how prepared Leon feels about being assigned the most crippling crush he’s had since high school for the RPD’s annual Secret Santa: you. 

Shit, indeed.

His hands shake like tremolo as he rereads your name printed on his little slip of paper, and Leon decides right then and there that the best way to go about this is to not go about it at all. Plain and simple. 

“Aren’t you excited?” you gush after your turn to draw from the jar. Poor you, you’d taken his jittery hands as enthusiasm. 

Leon grins tightly. “For sure, yeah, I um… I love Christmas. Really excited. You get who you wanted?” 

“Hey, no cheating. Not even with me, rookie.” You scrunch your face, clutching your paper to your chest. “Secret Santa’s secret. But it’s no secret that you’ve got to give it your all, so no lousy gifts allowed, got it?”

Well, there’s that plan gone. It’s back to police academy basics: Keep It Simple, Stupid. 

There’s nothing to overthink about making a good impression as the newest RPD recruit, Leon gaslights himself while haunting the Target holiday aisle on Monday night. You routinely save him from Irons’ infamous wrath, so it’s only natural that Leon spends all of Tuesday in a stupor at his desk, definitely not thinking of how he could never pay you back the favor with a silly Secret Santa gift. 

Wednesday rolls by and his coffee from yesterday sits in the break room, cold and overstirred next to today’s breakfast crumbs. How many times has Leon watched you sip tea at your desk? Five, six? 

Your eyes sparkle over the rim of your cup when he asks you about your weekend. Really, he doesn’t get the hate for small talk. There’s nothing small about the smile that bunches up your cheeks when he cracks a stupid joke about the weather, and more often than not, Leon finds himself waterboarding his notes app with the names of all the novels you drop mid-conversation so he can binge their Sparknotes over the weekend. So it goes, according to Kurt Vonnegut.

Ugh, he should have paid more attention in English. What the hell is an allegory anyway? Leon spends all of Thursday browsing your Goodreads profile and wracking his head over the hefty price tags attached to your TBR list. His wallet makes for a terrible wingman. 

But really, finding the perfect gift is no sweat at all. Leon is absolutely nonplussed (according to his 50th vocabulary-related Google search) when he steps into the RPD elevator on Friday morning with a clumsily wrapped, candy cane-striped bundle in his arms. 

“Hold it plea- Leon!”  

Liar, liar, pants on fire – he’s totally shitting his pants when you barely make it inside before the doors snap shut. 

“Thanks,” you gasp. 

Leon nods stiffly, his cheeks growing warm, and jams the second-floor button with his knuckle.

As the elevator starts its maddeningly slow climb, you hum, rocking back and forth in your snow boots. You’re cradling a package of your own, something four-cornered and fairly small. Leon, however, feels like he’s holding a bomb, the object of his affections standing less than three feet from his radius of destruction. How are you so carefree right now? You’ve probably got this gifting thing in the bag and he most definitely doesn’t. 

Leon can see everything unfold the moment he enters the office. You’ve had your gift planned months beforehand, his gift is going to be horrifically lame when you open it, everyone’s going to clap politely but you’re going to hate him forev-

And then the elevator plunges into pitch black.

“Oh my god!” 

Who screamed louder, Leon doesn’t want to find out.

The elevator shudders to a complete stop. Leon’s mental spiral of doom helpfully supplies him with an image of you two dangling in midair, suspended on wires. Maybe this is the universe saving him from delivering the worst Secret Santa gift of his life.

Leon blinks in the darkness, waiting for your unflappable voice to cut through the silence and figure a way out, headstrong as always, except you don’t, and Leon strains his ears to hear what’s surely not what he thinks it is, a whisper that sounds an awful lot like: “Leon, I don’t want to die.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna die,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Your voice floats up from a lot lower than he remembers your head being, so he crouches down to find you with your arms hugged to your chest. You’re huddled against the wall, breathing all shallow. The package in your arms lies forgotten somewhere in the abyss.

“Hey, hey, nobody’s dying.” Leon reaches out to find your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I have, cl-clau-”

“Claustrophobia?” He remembers that one well. Wishes he didn’t. 

You nod fitfully.

“The dark doesn’t help either, huh?” he whispers, craning his head to look at the busted bulb on the ceiling. “Damn.”

Your palm grows colder and clammier in his hand by the minute, and the shakiness in your breathing is starting to worry him. Your head pops above your knees when you hear rustling in the shadows, and then the telltale Christmastime cacophony of wrapping paper being torn to shreds. 

“What are you…?”

“Being resourceful,” Leon grits, tearing his Secret Santa gift open. He fumbles with its contents for a second, slipping something into a plastic compartment. “It’s not the best, but…”

The elevator blooms with soft, golden light.

“...it’ll do.”

“What’s this?” you murmur in awe, cupping your hands around the tiny book light Leon holds. 

“My Secret Santa gift,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I kind of, um, blanked. I’m also really bad at giving gifts, so there’s also this,” he says, pulling out a mug from the heap of trashed wrapping paper.

When I Think About Books, I Touch My Shelf, it announces with impunity. 

Leon blushes when you giggle at the inscription. Things always look better online than in person, rookie mistake. But at least you’re breathing better now. 

“This is amazing,” you laugh, cradling the cup like there’s warmth inside. 

“Not so amazing now that I’ve opened all the packaging.”

“Your Secret Santa won’t mind at all, trust me, not with a gift like this- ‘touch my shelf’, you’re unbelievable! Tell me where you got it.”

He shakes his head. 

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t stop gatekeeping this incredible mug and this super useful book light, by the way, I’m going to tell Irons you spilled coffee all over his desk. I can be very convincing, y’know.” You cross your arms decidedly, waiting. 

“There’s no need for all that!” he protests. 

“That was a promise, Leon, not a threat.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.”

“You’re still not telling me.” 

“It’s for you, silly.” Leon tilts his head, face heating up faster than the book light bulb, “You’re my Secret Santa.” 

He must be hallucinating the pink in your cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe. 

“Yes, oh,” Leon teases, scooching to sit next to you. “I couldn’t think of anything,” he confesses, “so I just went with the basics. I know you read and I know you really miss your old tea mug, the one that broke, right? You’re my gifting competition and I got nervy from how sure you were about your person’s gift. So, um, I played safe.” Leon finishes lamely and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the light doesn’t also illuminate the shame radiating from his body. 

And then he feels the press of an unbelievably soft kiss on his cheek.  

“It’s much better than what I’ve got,” he hears. 

His eyes fly open. Words don’t form right in his throat when you reach out for the package you dropped when the lights went out. Wrapping paper falls apart neatly in your hands (what don’t you do perfectly?) and you unveil a mini waffle iron, proportioned perfectly for somebody always running late without breakfast. Somebody like Leon.

“You keep missing breakfast and Irons is on my ass about saving you food all the time, so I guess took the practical route too,” you shuffle your feet, bashful all of a sudden. “And um, my gift’s kind of useless if we never make it out. Sorry.”

He fingers the tag in wonder. 

Merry Christmas, Leon! There’s a timer so you don’t burn them :) xoxo, your Secret Santa!

You’re so goddamn sweet. You’re perfect and thoughtful and it’s all your fault that Leon didn’t have the faintest clue what to give you. Think, Leon, think. He knows he’s not this stupid. What do you give to somebody who has everything? 

A kiss. One that’s all smiles and just as sweet as the way you kiss him back, because screw Secret Santa.

It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re Leon’s favorite one.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[0cta9on]

Unlikely Duet - 7

length: +7k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: Finally, after almost 3 months of writing on and off, rereading and rewriting entire portions, and countless edits, I finally finished chapter 7 of UD :,] I'll get started on chapter 8 asap so it hopefully doesn't take as long. Enjoy!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

I inhale deeply, letting the grassy aroma and fresh evening air fill my lungs. The full moon looks down at us with its gentle gaze, reflecting its light on our intimate moment. Street lights flicker in the town below us, mimicking the stars hanging in the indigo above. Minji shivers next to me as a cool breeze whistles by, and I instinctively wrap my arm around her for warmth. Her cheeks light up with a pretty pink hue that lingers in my vision longer than it should have.

“It’s really pretty tonight,” she comments, glancing up at the moon. I nod, but all my focus is on the girl next to me, more beautiful than any celestial body could hope to be. The wind makes her long, black hair float and ebb like a stream of the finest silk, while the Milky Way traps itself into her irises, containing the beauty of an entire galaxy in just her eyes alone. Being here with her, nothing to interrupt our moment. Everything feels perfect.

“Minji, I…” As if she can read my mind, she turns to me, a knowing smile on her face, and shuts her eyes, awaiting my next move. With a quivering breath, I slowly lean into her, the warmth emitting from her skin growing ever warmer. The last thing I see is her lips before my vision fades to black, and then nothing.

I open my eyes to find Minji gone, replaced by my ceiling fan. My body jolts upwards in confusion as I grasp at the bed sheets beneath me. Instead of the grassy hill overlooking the town, all I see is the familiar layout of my bedroom, taunting me with its stillness. A disappointed sigh leaves my lips - just a dream.

My phone sits on my bed, still open on Minji’s blank messages. How pathetic of me. I spent all night wracking my brain for a response and couldn’t find a single thing to say. I hover tentatively over the keyboard one last time, desperately searching for the right words to say, before eventually giving up and sending a text to the group chat instead.

Yuno: Good Morning.

To my surprise, Yujin and Winter respond rather quickly.

Yujin: GOOD MORNING!!!!

Winter: good morning :)

Yuno: What are you two up to?

Winter: working :/

Yujin: im taking care of my grandma today!!

With the two of them busy, I’m left to figure out how to spend my Sunday alone. I click over to Minji’s blank messages one last time, my heart palpitating with an uncommon anxiety. Whatever this feeling is, love or otherwise, it’s getting old quickly. Everything feels confusing, and unlike most of my problems, I can’t solve it with brute force alone. What am I even hoping for here? A relationship? I don’t know anything about relationships or dating or how to be a boyfriend. Minji’s boyfriend, huh? That sounds kinda nice-

No. We’re too different. I don’t exactly have any good points to me either. I mean, Minji is like… a shining star - beautiful and radiant, but unattainable. And I’m like a sad cockroach looking up at that star, put on this planet because someone up there decided to play a sick joke. We’re just friends and that’s okay. Yet, the dull pain in my chest tells me otherwise. With a heavy sigh and a couple thousand unanswered questions, I shoot her a simple “Good Morning” text, because that’s what friends say to each other.

The sizzling of melting butter on a griddle and the heavenly scent of warm maple syrup grows stronger as I descend the staircase toward the kitchen, my tastebuds salivating at the thought of my favorite food - pancakes. My dad is in the kitchen, hunched over a cookbook with a surgeon-like focus, as a stack of warm pancakes sits next to him with two more cooking on the stovetop.

“Good morning, Yuno,” he greets me with a wide smile. “Cooked up breakfast if you’re hungry. Help yourself.”

I quickly take a seat at the table and stack a couple of them onto my plate, my stomach grumbling with a vicious hunger. As I go in to take the first bite, the scent of pancake wafts through my nose, taking me back to the first morning I woke up in Minji’s house. Despite us being strangers at that point, she let me crash on her couch so I didn’t have to run home in the rain, offered me warm clothes to sleep in, and made waffles for me the morning after so I didn’t go to school hungry. She didn’t have to, but she did, and it made all the difference in my measly little life. Minji is just so… incredible. And beautiful. And intelligent and kind and sweet and-

“Uh, are you alright?” I hear my dad ask. “You’ve been staring at your pancakes for a while now.”

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. “I-I’m fine.” That's a lie. I’m not fine. A girl, THE girl, is taking over my mind and my dreams, making my heart feel weird and my mouth feel dry. I like a girl that can’t possibly like me back and I’m just supposed to be fine with that. How do I even begin to explain this to anyone?

My dad sits across from me at the table and fills up his plate. The silence between us begins to grow as we eat, an air of unease and uncertainty filling the room. On top of my feelings for Minji, I now have to deal with my feelings regarding the state of my dad. It’s been years since I last saw him like this. He’s fine now, but what if he relapses? How did he even make such an abrupt change anyway when all I saw him doing was sleeping and drinking? I should be happy, but I can’t shake the feeling that he could just revert to his older self without warning. I can’t cling to hope for too long, otherwise I’ll be met with disappointment yet again.

“So, uh, I was thinking,” he says, nervously clearing his throat. “Would you wanna go to the mall later?”

I freeze like a deer in headlights, caught off guard by his sudden question. “The mall? Why?”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t wanna, I just thought…” He sighs heavily, dropping his expression to the floor. “I want to be your dad again, like old times, before your mother… left us. If you don’t want anything to do with me, I understand, but if it’s okay with you… I want a relationship with my son again.”

He looks into my eyes with a sincere expression, tears threatening to pour. A part of me wants to say no, to make up some lame excuse and wander the streets until it’s dark instead of spending any time with him. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am harboring some resentment for him for leaving me, a child, alone all these years, left to watch my one remaining parent shatter into a million pieces every day until he’s nothing but dust. Maybe I got so used to being alone that the thought of relying on someone else again makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I get into these stupid fights and aimlessly walk around the neighborhood because I know that the only person waiting for me at home is constantly drunk and sleeping.

Despite that, I don’t say no. I nod my head and utter, “Okay,” because the other part of me wants to have my dad back regardless of what he did. I want to be able to come home after school, into a home with the lights on, where the air doesn’t constantly smell like alcohol, and have someone, anyone, ask how my day went. I want someone to rely on when life gets too difficult to handle by myself. I want my family again.

So we eat our breakfast in silence. The uncertainty lingers, but next to it is a warming sense of hope, holding its hand in reassurance.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

Knock, knock, knock

“Minji?”

Knock, knock, knock

“Honey, are you awake?”

I finally sit up, rubbing the drowsiness from my eyes. “Now I am,” I yawn, stretching out my limbs. The clock reads 7:12 AM, about an hour after I usually wake up on the weekends. My phone lay face up on my bed, still on Yuno’s empty messages. Like an idiot, I waited all night for a response from him, but all I got was an hour less of sleep. Maybe I shouldn’t have held my breath for him.

My mother swings my bedroom door wide open. “Oh good, you’re awake,” she says, pacing around my room and picking up some of my laundry off the ground. “Go eat breakfast and get washed up. We’re going to the mall in a bit.”

“The mall? Why?” I ask.

“Oh, y’know… Just some clothes shopping,” she says with a peculiar smile. “We need to update that closet of yours, dear.”

Too drowsy to argue, I get out of bed and head downstairs, where my father is taking a call in the kitchen. Wisps of steam float from the mug of black coffee sitting on the counter next to him, untouched as he presses his phone to his ear with an intense focus. He mouths “Good morning” to me, gesturing to a plate holding a fancy-looking omelet. I dig in, unintentionally eavesdropping on my father’s conversation.

“Mhm. Tuesday you said? No, it’s not a problem at all. Yes, she will be there, I’ll make sure of it. Yeah. Mhm. No problem. We’ll see you then.”

Finally, he hangs up the phone and sits next to me at the dining table. Wrinkles of exhaustion decorate his face, likely from working early in the morning.

“Did you sleep okay, Minji?” He asks. “You’re usually up earlier than this.”

“I slept fine. I thought I’d get some more studying done after I got home and forgot about the time,” I lie. I can’t even imagine how furious he would be if I told him that I stayed up all night waiting for a text from a boy.

He grins proudly at me. “I’m happy that you’re working hard on your studies, but good sleeping habits will keep our brain healthy.” His phone buzzes in his pocket. “I’ll be right back, I have to take this.” He leaves the room, leaving me alone in the kitchen with my omelet and my thoughts. Maybe Yuno isn’t going to text me. Maybe I should text him first instead. But shouldn’t the guy text first…?

A sigh leaves my lips. I'm way in over my head with prom preparations already, I definitely don’t have any room for a silly little crush. Perhaps these feelings are just one of circumstance. We’ve been bumping into each other everywhere, so these feelings will fade if I just avoid Yuno for a bit. Sounds easy enough, right?

______________________________________________________________

The mall is always busiest on the weekends, full of families and friends looking for new deals while carrying around soft pretzels or pointing out attractive people who pass by. This mall, however, is a bit different from most, reserving its entire top floor for high-end designer shops. There isn’t any sort of membership or secret password that prohibits people from entering the top floor, but it generally stays barren aside from the few wealthy shoppers who can afford to do more than just window shop, including my family. The blatantly obvious segregation between social classes is disgusting, but I would be lying if I said I don’t like being able to shop without stumbling through the thick crowds on the lower levels.

“What do you think about this one, dear?” My mother pulls a black dress off the hanger, presenting its fine, intricate detailing to me. Shimmering black beads are sewn into the fabric, probably taking countless hours to place by hand.

“It’s very pretty,” I comment plainly. By all means, it’s a beautiful dress, but I much prefer something more comfortable.

“Why don’t you go try it on, dear,” she says, handing me the dress. I glance at the price tag, causing my eyes to go wide in shock at the $120,000 price point. 

“$120,000? Isn’t that a bit much for a dress?” I ask, concern painting my face.

“Nonsense, Minji. Don’t you want to look good for the party?”

My brow furrows. “Party? What party?” My mother’s gaze wanders, avoiding me completely.

“Well, there’s no party in particular, but you never know what will come up. Just try on the dress please.” She pushes me into the dressing room before I can ask another question.

Right as I close the door behind me, I feel my phone buzz in my purse. My heart skips a beat from the words on the screen - 1 new message from Yuno.

“AH!” I exclaim, nearly dropping my phone.

“Are you okay in there, ma’am?” A worker asks from the other side of the door. I can feel my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“I-it’s nothing! Just a, uh, a spider! But it’s okay! Ehe…” I silently cringe at myself as I hear the worker’s footsteps walking away. I just know Hanni would be laughing her butt off at me getting this excited over a text from Yuno.

With a trembling hand, I open up his text, which simply reads “Good morning.” It’s a short and simple message, yet I bite my lip, actively stifling a delighted squeal. An overwhelming sense of giddiness washes over me from those two words on the screen, my mind racing as  I try to think of a response.

Should I ask him how he slept? Maybe that’s a bit too intimate… Oh, what if he had a weird dream? That’s an interesting topic of conversation, right? No, that might be too weird… Maybe I should ask the girls for help. But they might just laugh at me. Oh god, what do I do?

Right as my thumb hovers over the keyboard to type up a response, I freeze. This isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing. Yuno and I are just friends, and that’s all we can ever be. I’m just far too busy for any kind of serious relationship, and my parents clearly don’t approve of him either. Even so, a small voice in the back of my head tells me to go for it, that it’ll work out if I try hard enough. Anything can be achieved through hard work, right? That’s what my parents always told me. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as my heart and mind devolve into war with no clear victor. I don’t even know for sure if he feels the same, yet here I am, getting all excited over his words on a screen.

A knock at the door snaps me out of my rambling thoughts. “Honey, are you okay in there? You’ve been in there a long time, I only gave you one dress to try,” I hear my mom ask.

“S-sorry!” I quickly toss my phone back into my purse and grab the dress off the hanger. Maybe I just need some time to think about it.

______________________________________________________________

“Thank you for shopping with us, Ms. Kim! Have a wonderful day!” The worker exclaims as we leave the store with a plethora of shopping bags and a long receipt to match. My mother takes a single bag, leaving me to carry the rest. My family definitely has the means to live a “comfortable” life, but even exorbitant purchases like these are uncharacteristic of them.

“Why... huff... do I... grunt… need all these clothes?” I ask, struggling to carry everything. “Isn't this... huff… a bit much just to update my closet?"

“Think of it as a gift from your mother, dear,” she replies, not looking in my direction. “I barely get to see you because your father and I are always working. Don’t you want to spend time with your mother?”

“I guess so…” But not like this, I think to myself. As we descend the escalator to the lower levels, the frequency of people increases, making it nearly impossible to take two steps without accidentally hitting someone with the bags. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I offer an apologetic look to everyone who passes by.

Amidst the chaos, I trip over my foot, inadvertently sending shopping bags and expensive dresses flying everywhere. My mother continues on without even so much as a glance backward, leaving me to pick up the remnants of her wealth as passersby give me weird looks or downright ignore me. As if things couldn’t get any worse, a man snatches my purse off the ground and dashes toward the mall exit.

“H-hey! Give that back!” Of course, my words fall on deaf ears as the thief gets farther and farther. No one moves to stop him, too scared or confused to intervene. My phone, my wallet, the little knick knacks my friends have given me over the years, all of it is gone…

Out of nowhere, a person tackles the thief to the ground, wrestling my purse from his hands. The scuffle ends with the heroic stranger standing over the thief’s now unconscious body, a crowd surrounding and applauding his efforts. An overwhelming sense of gratitude fills me, and without thinking, I run over to my savior and capture him in a big hug,

“Oh my god, thank you so much for getting my purse back, I don’t know how I can-” Panic replaces gratitude as I look up at him for the first time. 

“Y-Yuno?!”

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I glare at the black screen of my phone, taunting me by reflecting my own ridiculous emotions. My body is restless, itching for any sign of life, a vibration, a notification, just anything to quench my frustrations. And then it happens: the screen lights up with life. Frantic, I grab the phone, bringing it up to my eyes to read the notification.

Yujin: Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy guyyyyyysssssss. I made kimbap for my grandma, what do yall think?

A photo of Yujin is attached to the text, depicting a clumsily put-together plate of what I assume to be kimbap. Out of the billion notifications I’ve received in the past hour, all of them have been from Yujin, and zero have been from Minji. My head drops in disappointment. Despite my own warnings, I can’t stop thinking about her. She plagues my mind with her pretty eyes and cute face and gentle voice and-

“You alright, Yuno?” My dad sits across from me at the table, his brow furrowed in concern mid-chew. “You haven’t touched your burger at all.”

I shake my head, gathering my bearings. ’50s rock music blasts from the speakers above, fitting the atmosphere of the 50s-themed diner we are in. With no plan in mind, my dad suggested that we get some lunch first, although his words fell on deaf ears since I was too preoccupied staring at my phone.

“It’s nothing,” I utter, avoiding his eyes. He sighs heavily, his expression darkening.

“Look, I… I understand if you don’t trust me completely, a-and I will work harder to earn your trust, but I don’t want you to suffer in silence,” he explains. “If something is going on, I want you to know that you can come to me for anything, no matter how big or small. I don’t have the answers to everything, but I’m here to listen if you need me.”

My lips part to speak, yet no words come out, hiding away in my throat, too scared to show themselves. I choke them down, guilt arising within me due to my silence. What am I supposed to say? “Hey Dad, you are right, I feel weird seeing you like this after so long and so suddenly, but also my life in general has just become so weird. In less than a week, I slept over at the student council’s president house, got two friends, beat two people in a fight, went to the fair for the first time, and I also really like the student council president. Maybe even love her, I don’t know.” This whole thing is ridiculous. I am ridiculous.

“I’m fine, really,” I assure him, and myself partially.

He looks at me, unconvinced, but doesn’t pry any further. “Alright, just… I want you to know.”

God, this sucks. I can’t even eat a meal with my own dad in peace because of my inability to function like a regular human being. Part of me wishes I could just pretend like everything is alright, but since when have I ever felt alright?

“What about you?” The words eject from my mouth without thought. Call it curiosity or not wanting to eat in awkward silence for the second time today, either way, the question is out there now.

“What about me?” My dad asks, rightfully confused.

“I mean…” Fuck, why is it so hard to talk? “You… You’re up and alive, I guess. What changed?”

He places his burger down and looks up with a thoughtful expression. “I, uh, went out for another drink one night and ran into an old friend from college. We just talked for a while, maybe even all night, just catching up like no time had passed. Y’know, he introduced me and your mom way back when. Seeing him reminded me of my old college days, living like I was on top of the world, and… I just knew something had to change.”

“That’s… great. Really.” And I mean it. A smile grows on his face at my sincerity.

“Yeah, it really is. He basically saved my life. I hope you’re able to find good friends like that, Yuno.”

My phone buzzes with a new message from the group chat.

Winter: that looks really great yujin :D

Yujin: hehe thanks !!!

A small grin grows on my face. Maybe I already have. If only I could get a text from one other friend…

______________________________________________________________

We walk into a clothing store full of people my age dressed much more stylishly than I am. I didn’t particularly need to update my closet, but the potential guilt of declining my dad’s offer to buy me clothes was too overwhelming. Besides, what else are you supposed to do at a mall other than spend exorbitant amounts of money on material things?

“Go look around. Let me buy you something nice for once,” he quips. His mood seems to have significantly brightened after our talk at the diner.

Looking through all the racks made me realize just how out of my element I am. Outside of my school uniform, most of my clothes are just sweats and hoodies - comfortable and don’t draw too much attention. Everything (and practically everyone) in here is basically a giant billboard that says “Hey, look at me!!!”

Then, something catches my eye: a forest green crewneck sweater with a bear wearing overalls screen printed on the front. I try to move on, but the beady lifeless eyes of the bear stare into my soul, demanding that I take it home. It’s ridiculous, It’s childish, it’s…

“I want it,” I blurt out.

“Really? This?” Dad chuckles, examining the sweater. “Didn’t think you would be interested in this kind of thing, but hey, what do I know about fashion?”

I cough awkwardly, my face growing warm. I didn’t know anything about fashion either. Hell, if I didn’t have the reputation I have, I would probably be a prime target for bullies if I wore that around. Out of everything in the store, why did I want that sweater? Who in their right mind would even like this sweater?

Minji. Minji would. Half of her bed is covered in teddy bears. I want that sweater because, for some stupid reason, I think it’ll magically make her like me. Or something. I don’t know. She hasn’t even texted me back yet, what good is a sweater with a bear on it gonna do?

Before I could protest, my dad hands me the sweater in a plastic bag, already paid for. “You wanna stop by a couple more stores?” he asks.

“Sure,” I concede, still feeling embarrassed. A part of me feels oddly glad that I took it, imagining Minji’s reaction to seeing the sweater. “Wow Yuno, your sweater is so cute, we should go out sometime!” Yeah right. Still, I can’t stop the small grin dancing on my lips.

“H-hey! Give that back!”

A familiar voice rings from the center of the mall. I glance upwards to see a man barging through the crowd, clutching onto a purse that definitely isn’t his. Without thinking, I spring into action, dashing towards him as fast as I can.

“Yuno!” My dad calls out from behind me, but his words are left unheard as I continue my pursuit. Right before the man reaches the exit, I jump onto a bench and dive at him, tackling him to the ground.

“What the fuck man, get off of me!” The thief yells. He lands a punch to the side of my head as I try to wrestle the purse from him. While it isn’t the hardest blow I’ve received, it’s enough to piss me off. I grab his throat, digging my fingers into his windpipe, nearly crushing it in my grip. He squirms underneath, the desperation welling in his eyes as he fights for breath. I reel back my fist and let it fly, aiming to crack his skull against the ground.

As my fist gets closer and closer to his head, time crawls to a standstill. Minji’s voice echoes in my head: “You’re a good person, Yuno. I just wish you would stop getting into trouble.” I mean, he deserves it, he’s a thief. He steals some poor girl’s purse, he deserves a good beating. And yet, I pull back at the last moment, knocking him out instead of outright shattering his jaw. While none of his bones are broken, he’ll surely be feeling that once he comes to.

The sound of scattered applause around me pulls me from my adrenaline-fueled haze. It’s only now that I realize people are recording me like a zoo animal, upholding me like I’m some kind of “hero” or something. In reality, I just did what they were too scared to do, but they’re too busy creating their own hyperbolic narratives to see that.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrap around me in a familiar and oddly comforting anaconda grip.

“Oh my god, thank you so much for getting my purse back, I don’t know how I can- Y-Yuno?”

That voice. Is it?

“M-Minji?”

I turn to look at the source of the voice, inadvertently meeting her eyes, mere inches away. Thick-rimmed glasses adorn her face, like the ones stereotypical nerds wear. Technically, she is a nerd, but a really cute one. She still has me in her grip, but if I’m being honest, I never want to leave it. It’s like the warmth of a weighted blanket, but… cuter. God, I think I’m going insane.

Fortunately (or rather unfortunately), Minji lets go, finally giving me room to breathe. This weird, fluttering feeling in my stomach remains (Is this what people mean by butterflies?).

“S-sorry about that, uh… Th-thanks, Yuno…” She mutters, her gaze never leaving the ground.

“Y-yeah, no problem…”

“Yuno!” My dad calls out to me, running in our direction. “Jesus, you're fast… huff… Are you alright?” He glances over at the thief’s unconscious body as two mall cops drag him away. “You certainly did a number on him, huh? Impressive.” He pats my shoulder, giving me a proud smile.

The clop of expensive high heels draws our attention, growing louder and louder with each step.

“Minji! Are you okay, dear?”

Minji’s mom appears, checking her for injuries.

“I-I’m okay, mother. Um, you remember Yuno, right?” She awkwardly gestures towards me, leading her mom’s gaze. With her cold gaze studying my expression, It’s like I have a sniper dot placed firmly onto my forehead, ready to blow my brains out if I so much as cough in her direction.

“Ah yes, I remember. Thank you for getting Minji’s purse back, although I could’ve easily purchased another one for her.” Her lips curl into a smile, but I can clearly see the disdain evident in her eyes. It’s almost like she knows I can see it and is doing it on purpose.

“And you must be his father, I presume.”

“Yup, that’s me, I’m his dad alright,” he says with a friendly chuckle. “Ian Lin, it’s nice to meet you.” My dad extends a hand towards her, which she accepts with clear reluctance in her movements, although he doesn’t notice this.

“Well, I would love to chat, but we must get going. Minji dear, go and pick up the bags, we’re heading to the tailor to get your new dresses fitted,” she says to Minji before waltzing off without another word, leaving her daughter to pick up a mountain of shopping bags. Looking at her, it’s hard to believe that someone as unconditionally kind as Minji was born from that unassuming she-devil. Maybe Minji is adopted or something.

“I-I should get going,” Minji says, panting with exhaustion. “B-bye, Yuno.”

“Wait.” I reach out and grab some of the bags from her. “Let me help you.”

“Oh, you don’t have t-”

“I want to.” 

The words come out before I have time to think about them. Minji blushes as she hands a few of the bags over to me. Meanwhile, my dad whips over to the other side of her and offers his assistance.

“May I?” He asks, reaching his arm out towards the rest of the bags. Minji concedes with a sigh, shooting him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, I was, uh, really struggling before,” she admits.

The three of us follow loosely behind Minji’s mother. No wonder she didn’t text me, I don’t think I would have the luxury of breathing when I’m around a terrifying woman like that. Still, it does put me at ease a bit knowing Minji wasn’t exactly ignoring my text. Seeing her in person is way better than a couple of words on a screen.

“Minji, right?” My dad asks her, making small talk. “Are you and Yuno friends?”

“Yes, Mr. Lin, we are friends.”

Friends. The title feels bittersweet at best, but hearing her admit that without any hesitation in her voice makes my lips curl into a smile, which I hide with a fake cough.

“That’s great, I don’t get to meet a lot of Yuno’s friends. By the way, just call me Ian, Mr. Lin makes me feel older than I already am,” he quips, earning a chuckle from Minji. “I have to ask, what’s Yuno like at school?”

“Yuno is…” She turns to look at me, but my gaze is glued to the ground, too nervous to meet her eyes. “...a bit of a troublemaker…” Damn. “...but he’s a good guy.” Hell yeah.

“That’s good to hear. Y’know, he gets his personality from his mother.” His grin fades for a second before going back to normal. “And he gets his good looks from me.”

The two of them laugh while I silently cringe to myself, a dull throbbing hitting my temples. Never in a million years did I imagine the two of them ever meeting, let alone holding a conversation like this. It’s kinda nice in an off-putting way. Better than letting Minji meet him as a grieving alcoholic.

“Hurry up dear,” Minji’s mom calls out to her, walking into the tailor shop.

“Welp, this is my stop. Thank you for the help, but I can take it from here,” Minji says. She takes the bags from us, lightly gracing my hand, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. “Bye Yuno and it was nice meeting you, Mr. Li- er, Ian.”

A disappointed sigh leaves my lips as I watch her disappear into the shop. She was right there, close enough for me to catch a whiff of her lavender-scented perfume. I’ve been waiting all day for a text from her, yet my stupid feelings made me too nervous to speak.

“You like her, don’t you?”

My head snaps towards my dad, a sly smirk dancing on his lips. My eyes grow wide in shock, “W-what, n-no… I-I just, uh… W-whatever…”

“I know that look anywhere, Yuno. It’s the same one I gave your mother before we started going out,” he explains. My face sinks into my hands, the overwhelming urge to disappear consuming me.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

My family has frequented this specific tailor shop at the mall for numerous occasions over the years, we even went here to get my school uniform properly fitted before the school year started. The shop has one sole worker, a kind yet quiet old man. He’s skilled at his job, but my only issue with him is that he continuously pokes me with sewing pins while taking my measurements. 

“Mother, why do I- Ow! Why do I need so many new dresses for my wardrobe- Ow! None of these clothes are things I would wear casually.”

She sighs. “I suppose we’ll have to tell you eventually.”

“Tell me what?” I ask, my brow furrowing.

“We’re doing a business collaboration with the Park family and we thought it would be a good idea to hold a banquet this Tuesday to mark the beginning of our partnership. We haven’t seen them in a while, so we figured it would be a good idea to catch up.”

The Park family? “Okay, but if it’s for the business, then why do I have to go?”

“Their son, Sunghoon, will be in attendance, so we expect you to do the same.”

Sunghoon. Just the name alone sends a shiver down my spine. I thought I finally got rid of him after he moved away in middle school, but no. He’s finally come back to haunt me.

“U-uh, I have school that day a-and I have a test coming up that I need to study for and-”

“Your father and I think that the opportunity to network and make connections with influential people in the industry will be more beneficial to you than a high school test that you can make up anyway. Besides, don’t you want to see your old friend Sunghoon again? I remember how hard you cried after he moved away.”

No, Mother, those were tears of JOY. My parents have been close friends with the Parks since they attended the same college together, so naturally (and incorrectly), they assumed that their kids would be close as well. Sunghoon got along well with my brother, but he was an absolute menace towards me. He would call me names, steal my things, and talk bad about me to his annoying group of friends. No matter how much I cried to my parents about him, they always gave me the outdated, misogynistic line of “boys will be boys.” When his family finally moved away during middle school, I couldn’t have been more thrilled, literally crying tears of joy knowing that I would never have to see him ever again. But of course, fate is a cruel mistress, making everything go right for a couple of years before stabbing me in the back with a Sunghoon-shaped knife.

“But mother, I-”

“We’re just asking you to attend the banquet for a couple of hours and mingle. Why do you have to make things difficult?”

A dejected sigh leaves my lips. There’s no getting through to her at this rate. At least I have a day to mentally prepare myself before the banquet. Right now, I plan to say hi to him to keep up appearances and then avoid him like the plague for the rest of the event. Piece of cake, right?

My gaze falls to my purse, sitting on a bench a few feet away. A thought plants itself into my head like a seedling, growing and growing into a full-blown idea. Maybe there’s a way that I can make this banquet a little more bearable.

______________________________________________________________

The second we make it into the house, I kick my shoes off by the front door and dash upstairs towards my room, ignoring the calls from my mother to put them away properly. By the time we finished up at the tailor, my phone had somehow died in my purse, making me antsy the whole drive home.

I burst through my room, practically leaping towards the charger.

“Come on, hurry up,” I plead, praying that it will somehow make the phone turn on faster. Thankfully, it only takes a few seconds to light up with life. I quickly scroll through my messages, typing up a quick text to the person who will be most vital to plan.

Yuno: Good Morning.

Minji: heyyy! can i call u? i have something important to ask

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I stop dead in my tracks, almost dropping the bag of groceries in my hands as I scan my phone screen over and over again. Does she really want to talk… to me?! On the phone? What could she want to ask me? Is she gonna-

“Hello? Earth to Yuno.” My dad waves his hand in front of my face, pulling me from my trance. “I can’t have you stand in the middle of the kitchen while I cook dinner,” he chuckles.

“A-ah, right. Sorry.” I move to put the groceries away, but he stops me.

“I can put the rest of the groceries away. It’s clear you would rather be doing something else right now.” He gives me a knowing smile as I briskly make my way towards the stairs, grabbing the bag with my new sweater in it. Right before I head up, I turn to my dad one last time.

“Um, thanks for taking me to the mall. It was… nice.” 

He chuckles to himself before waving me off. I go to my room and shut the door behind me, typing a quick reply to Minji.

Minji: hey! can i call u? i have something important to ask

Yuno: Sure.

An overwhelming wave of suspense hits me, filling my mind with an endless mountain of questions. My phone buzzes to life with Minji’s name and I quickly swipe to answer her call.

“Hello!”

Her voice rings clearly through the speakers like the soothing sound of a gentle breeze. I’m somewhat glad she didn’t ask to talk in person, otherwise, she would see the obvious blush on my face.

“H-hi. Um, what did you want to ask me?”

“Oh right! It’s kinda weird, but… Are you doing anything on Tuesday night?”

My heart thumps loudly in my chest. Is she asking me on a…?

“N-no, why?” I can’t stop my voice from quivering with nervous excitement.

“Well…” She sighs. “It’s a bit of a long story, but basically, my parents are holding a banquet for the family business on Tuesday and if you’re not busy, I was wondering if you wanted to go… with me.”

“A-as your date?” The words come out before I can even think to stop myself from saying them. You fucking idiot, why would you say that!? Minji is gonna think you’re weird now! “S-sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“T-technically speaking, you would be my… date.” 

A loooooooooong awkward pause ensues. My heart is beating so loud, I’m worried she’ll be able to hear it through the phone. TV static and white noise run through my mind as I stand in the middle of my room, frozen in disbelief.

“Um, hello? Yuno?”

“Y-yeah, I’m here, s-sorry,” I manage to croak out. “Why do you want me to go? Wouldn’t it be better if you invited your other friends instead?”

“There’s this guy that’s gonna be there and I would really like to avoid him, so I figured I could bring you instead of the girls and maybe he’ll… y’know.”

My heart sinks a little. “You want me to be there to scare him off?”

“...Well, when you say it like that, it sounds mean.” Her tone turns apologetic. “I’m sorry, Yuno, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to-”

“I’ll go.” Maybe I’m just a hopeless love-stricken fool who’s willing to toss away any ounce of self-respect I have left for a girl he likes, but it’s not like I’m doing anything interesting on a Tuesday night anyways. Plus, banquets usually have free food, and if Ms. Kim’s cooking is any sign of things to come, it’ll probably be really good.

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m using you, I just really need a friend to help get me through the banquet. Y’know, it feels like I have to keep reminding you that we’re friends, Yuno,” she says.

I collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spins in place. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to having friends.”

“It’s okay, I’m probably not doing a great job at being a good friend. It feels like you’re always helping me with something and I haven’t paid you back at all.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“First, you saved me from that drunk guy in front of the convenience store, and then the spider in the Ferris wheel, and now today with the purse thief, and now I’m asking you to go to a banquet with me because I don’t want to see some guy. You’re always doing things for me and I haven’t done the same for you.”

“That’s not true,” I refute. “What about the time I walked you home and it started raining, so you let me sleep on your couch so I wouldn’t get sick from the rain?”

“See, I only did that because you offered to walk me home. You’ve done a thousand things for me, and I’ve only done one thing for you. I think I’m a pretty bad friend-”

“That doesn’t make you a bad friend at all!” I yell out without realizing it. Minji goes quiet, the only thing I can hear is my anxious heartbeat and her quiet breathing. “S-sorry, I-I didn’t mean to yell…” Fuck, I made it awkward. “I, uh… You’re not a bad friend, is what I’m trying to say. U-um, you’re very kind and understanding, even to someone like me. I know I don’t have a lot of friends, but I know for sure that you’re a good one. You help me out more than you realize.”

There’s a long pause before Minji speaks again. “...Okay, first of all, I don’t like being yelled at, but I will accept your apology since you had good intentions.” I let out a sigh of relief, but the ache in my chest still lingers. Her tone is much more serious than it was a second ago. “Second of all, what do you mean “people like you?””

“Y’know…” I think carefully before I speak, treading through eggshells while I search for the right words. “You said it yourself when we were at the mall, I’m a troublemaker.”

Minji sighs. “Okay, that’s my bad, but I also said that you’re a good guy. You can convince yourself that you’re a bad person all you want, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to be lonely. I want you to be surrounded by people who love and care about you, Yuno.”

God, she’s so perfect. What did I do in my past life to meet an angel like her? “Th-thanks, Minji.”

“Of course. What are friends for?”

Friends. A word that felt so foreign and unattainable until recently. It still feels weird to digest, but a good kind of weird. The kind of weird that makes me feel excited for what’s to come, even though I have no clue what to expect. It’s like exploring an unexplored part of the world, no map, no research, simply traveling on pure curiosity alone. You might discover something frightening, yet you continue to dig because of the possibility that there’s something beautiful once you get to the other side.

Maybe “friendship” is as far as Minji and I are meant to go. Yet I continue to dig and dig through all these new, exciting, and terrifying experiences, because despite my whole internal monologue this morning about how we’re so different, about how she’s a shooting star and I’m a lowly cockroach, I desperately want to see what happens when I get to the other side. I am irrevocably, completely, and (most importantly) foolishly in love with Minji Kim.

[19calicos]

i know where to look – kuroo tetsurō ˎˊ˗

✶⋆.˚ chapter sixteen: under familiar lights ( 𖦹 )

currently playing: the two of us by omar apollo

word count: 2.3k

cw: language, usage of "die," vulnerable conversation lol, yn mentions their parents divorcing

kuroo has had too much time to think in the past four days, and it's all he can do to cram his head with documentaries of rainforests and hammerhead sharks and hummingbirds to keep his feelings from festering.

he's refused to let himself fall into a deep spiral of overthinking and second-guessing, of over-analyzing and pondering, but in doing so, he put himself in a limbo. really, all the radio silence has made him start to wonder if they even cared for him at all all, even though he knows with his head and his heart that isn't the case, that every shared moment between them was real.

kuroo doesn't want to think about how four days of silence, of nothing, of being left with his fears of messing everything up has made him feel so terrible, when all the time he's spent in their vicinity has made him feel so warm and whole and like he's himself at his best.

the uncertainty of being kept at a distance made kuroo feel small. it's a foreign, unpleasant feeling, so unlike himself – he's not sure when the last time he's felt this way was. and while the feeling has grown bigger in his chest in the past days, clawing at kuroo from the inside out, it's made him feel smaller, betrayed even. he thought he knew them, at least enough to not be ghosted like this.

so when kuroo got their text two hours ago, the notification reflected in his pupils, he may as well have thrown up. wide eyes become a scrunched nose, furrowed eyebrows, and a hitch in his throat after his third reread of their message asking him to talk.

all he's wanted to do was talk this entire time, but the way he’d been been ignored kept him from reaching out first. the pang of hurt in his chest when they made eye contact with him at the diner and immediately looked away was still fresh and tender, and kuroo was sure that the smallest thing gone wrong would make him feel like he's bleeding out.

he rubs his eyes. he rises from the couch. he rereads the texts between him and them again, then rereads the texts from the groupchat with his friends. he downs the water that bokuto put out for him an hour ago when he dropped everything to be by kuroo's side and dissect their texts with him. he swallows the lump down his throat, he ignores how it's instantly replaced by a knot in his stomach. he takes a big, deep breath, shoulders and all.

kuroo grabs his jacket off the coat rack and his board from the corner of the little foyer.

"you're heading out already?" kenma asks from behind, just around the corner of the little entry way.

bokuto peeks his head out from the opposite side of kenma. "you've got like, an hour before eight, dude."

"i think i wanna clear my head. i'm just gonna skate around somewhere," kuroo replies without turning around.

kenma and bokuto look at each other. kuroo sees their shared look over his shoulder, but he's not quite exactly sure what their faces are saying, or what the two are thinking. honestly, he doesn't know what anyone around him is thinking these days, not even himself – and especially not them.

"mkay, text if you need anything," kenma offers.

kuroo hums in response. he shuts the door behind him.

it's seven and they're already at the math building's parking lot. an hour passed by already, and there's still another hour to go of leg bouncing, sweaty palms, and rehearsing things to say in their head.

it would have been the same if they waited at home for eight o'clock like a normal person instead of showing up two hours early. but something about being in the same room where they laid themselves out to their best friends, brainstorming about how they were going to make their heart transparent for kuroo made them the fidgety type of anxious. the more they thought about it, the more stuffy the living room got, so it was all they could do to tug on a sweater and run outside with nothing but their skateboard and their earbuds.

the crisp sunset air did little to settle the thumps in their chest and the thrumming in their ears, though. the stupid anti-anxiety frequencies they were playing on repeat weren't doing shit, and they're not sure if it's because it's a scam or because they're not open-minded enough to it. they decide the question will remain unanswered when they hit shuffle on some other soothing playlist.

shaky fingers scroll through a lengthy notes app list of bullet points, ridden with typos and full of incoherency. they'd prefer if they could hash out everything with kuroo over text like they did earlier in the day with suna and the rest, but they knew that kuroo deserved better than that. he deserves better than them, really, but they wanted to talk in person about the past four days out loud.

something about kuroo just makes them want to try anything for him. so here they are, trying to string together their thoughts so they could make sense when they apologize and try to explain themselves.

"hey," a familiar voice calls from above them, and the first thing they notice is how quiet it was. the suddenness makes them almost drop their phone – it had been so still before in the empty space of the parking lot, the only ambience coming from passing cars and students some distance away.

their head snaps up to him, gaze flickering to his hand holding his board, to the jacket he's wearing that they know is his favorite, anywhere but his golden eyes. they barely manage to stutter out a "hey" back.

fuck.

they knew it was kuroo the moment they heard his voice, and they realize that even if he is an hour early, no amount of preparation would have made them feel ready at all for this.

"um, i didn't expect you to be here already," kuroo says as he sits on his board next to them.

the space between them is uncomfortable. even if he's only sitting a foot away on their right, he seemed so far away. their flight instinct begs them to turn tail and run, to try again another day. but they know they shouldn't – if there's anything they can learn from their mistake of seeing kuroo and ignoring him right after, it's that they have to stay and see this through.

"i'm sorry," they blurt out, scared that if kuroo speaks first they'll lose any willpower they have to be here. his stare burns into them, they can feel it, but they're not strong enough to look back at him. they keep their gaze on the pavement in front of them.

kuroo is wide-eyed when he looks at them, head snapping their direction in the blink of an eye. "wait –"

"no. no, i'm really sorry. i shouldn't have left you hanging like that for the past while when there were things we needed to talk about."

the space between them is still uncomfortable. they knew that the weight of it wouldn't dissipate with a snap of their fingers, but it's one thing to know it and another thing to experience it. it makes them feel like they've forgotten how to breathe.

"fucking hell," they exhale shakily, nerves crawling all over them. "i'm sorry – i've just, um, i've been like, really vulnerable today and it's a lot." another swallow. "not an excuse, i promise – just telling you that. sorry."

kuroo almost reaches out to them. but he understands the space they need, and that they're chasing their momentum to speak, so he only nods instead. "it's okay. don't worry about that, i get it."

"um, i've been thinking about it, and i think that when my parents got divorced when i was little, it kind of made me believe that love isn't real, and other stuff that happened really solidified that belief – ah, well, at least for me. i think love is very real between my friends and their partners," they continue, talking with their hands, tentative and unsure. "i... don't really trust people to love me and stuff. i don't know how to put it exactly. i just didn't think that this part of me would ever end up hurting someone like this though, especially you."

they pause before going on. they can't stand to see how he might be looking at them, not when this just might be the scariest moment of their life, baring themselves to kuroo. "you're so sweet to me, and i really like you a lot. and it freaked me out because i couldn't believe that, and i kept running away from those feelings and getting in my head and i let it build up too much and i hurt you in the process. and i'm really, really sorry."

kuroo’s head spins from connecting the dots.

“i remember how you kept insisting that i don't love you and everything. the things you said about how you can't love me back right, how i'm too good for you, that you love me too, all of it,” he slowly says in tandem with his real time processing. "when we were drunk, i mean. and none of the bad stuff is true."

they wince with embarrassment and purse their lips at that. "yeah... i just, i've been reflecting a lot and thought i should come clean and tell you these things."

the silence grows heavier, and the sun is almost gone. they wipe their sweaty palms on their jeans again, and when they finally look at kuroo, their heart drops at this foreign look on face. they realize they've never seen him frown like this, and they realize they never want to see him look this way ever again.

"if we're being truthful," kuroo begins. "you did hurt me a lot. and i've been trying not to think about it because it really made me feel like shit, like i didn't know you as well as i thought i did." he toys with his hands, pausing and collecting his thoughts. "and in hindsight, it feels kind of like you've been leading me on. a part of me is convinced that you never cared about us, or me, and that i don't really know you, even though the rest of me knows that's not true."

it's not like they would, but there's no arguing with that. they know that they've noticed the way kuroo looks at them with all the love in the world, and instead of sorting themselves out, they leaned into him – just not fully, always at odds with if they could believe him or not.

"despite all that, i still really like you. and i'm sorry too for all the things i did when we were drunk. i know that i freaked you out," kuroo finishes, voice trailing off.

"no! it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong, that all makes sense," they quickly interject, turning their body and leaning towards him, knees falling towards his. "you're right, really. i mean, i was giving you signs, and because of that i do feel like i've been leading you on, since, y'know, i wasn't fully there. and then i just left you hanging out of nowhere. i'm really sorry about that."

kuroo reaches for their left hand and takes it with his right, interlacing his fingers with theirs. "during all those times, like at community day, the nights when it was just us at the skate park, and when you fell asleep with me and we woke up together, i felt like i was on top of the world since you were with me."

he looks at them right in their eyes, head dropping, cheek resting on his knees that he's pulled into his chest. they think he looks perfect under the dimming golden hour. "honestly, some of the trust is lost on my end too. it hurt a lot that you just ghosted me like that. and i just want you to believe me when i say that i love you."

kuroo averts his gaze. "and, well... i've actually been planning on properly confessing to you since that party. but i think i'll save it for later, if you still, well, like me, and maybe still want to give us a try."

their breath stills at that. kuroo has shifted something inside them, replaced hope where doubt used to be.

“so you love me,” they murmur.

“i might have been drunk, but i meant it.”

“for the record, i meant it too.”

it's the way that he still believes in them despite how they flipped his heart upside down. they don't have it all figured out yet, nor do they have the words, but they think they believe this, believe him.

"fuck. we’re not even official or anything, and now we’ve just said i love you, sober," they say with a laugh, eyes fluttering closed. they put their free hand over their furiously beating chest, and the thumping proof that their heart exists gives them courage, no matter how fleeting it might be. it's real in this moment, and they believe the rush they're feeling. "tetsurō, can we take it slow? i want to tell you everything, i want to know all of you past your favorite things, and i want you to trust me again. i want to show you that i do care about you, and that you do mean a lot to me."

"yeah?" kuroo asks softly, eyes stuck to the way their fingers have stayed laced with his this entire time.

oh, wait. they just called him tetsurō. he stops with a sharp inhale, reeling not just from the honesty of the conversation but also the leap forward they just took by calling him tetsurō. his head just might burst like a balloon with too much air.

they open their eyes again, smiling toothily, letting their gaze linger on kuroo. "yeah, i mean, it's no secret that i just really like you a lot."

it's something about the way that they've spoken, carefully choosing their words, crafting sentences as best as they could, how they're trying their best for him that makes kuroo's heart flicker for them again. his smile grows to match theirs.

"yeah, let's take it slow," he says when turning to them, heart spilling right out of him, swelling with relief as he takes the hand on their chest in his. "let's go with whatever happens from now on, then.” kuroo matches their lighthearted laugh, and they think he sounds like wind chimes on a sunny, perfect day.

“and call me tetsu in the meantime,” he murmurs. “when you're ready, i'll tell you that i love you as many times as you need to believe me."

without thinking, they let go of one of kuroo’s hands to hold his cheek instead. his hand, big and warm and just right, rests on top of that hand as he leans into their touch. "okay, tetsu, deal. and when you're ready, i'll remind you everyday that i love you more."

the sun is set, and under the familiar lights from the math building and the street lamps and the deep blue sky, they start to believe that love for them is real in the form of kuroo.

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more:

⟢ we have a few more fluffy chapters left yippee ! honestly i just want to indulge myself and write some more cute little things for kurooyn

⟢ bo was the one who made the crossover group chat with suna's support

⟢ noya ran away earlier bc yn's head snapped in his direction. they didn't actually see him in the bushes but his fight or flight instinct kicked in so he ran LOL

⟢ ummmm not a lot of fun facts here just that endgame is very near. kurooyn isn't official yet but they'll get there soon !!!!

⟢ i hope u guys can see my trains of thought lololol

⟢ the debriefs after were crazy but both kuroo and yn just went straight to their rooms to sleep once they each got home, so debriefs came the morning after

⟢ yn has now learned that vulnerability isn't the scariest thing ever !!!!!!

taglist (50/50): @eggyrocks @whorefornoodles @sereniteav @bedeater @itsdragonius @spicana @localgaytrainwreck @sunafc @scinclaitnoir @staygoldsquatchling02 @rrosiitas @yuminako @zahrawr-likes-red @walllflowerrrsss @unwindwithme @mfcherry @giocriedpower @ahdbodhr @iiwaijime @loveelylacey @chososcamgirl @iheartpinky @piapiaweee3 @azuremyst99 @csbnova @tired-jaz @samuel1004 @kennedy-brooke @wyrcan @arustydoll @illuzminate @juie13 @01trickster10 @thatonecroc @theycallmenanamisgirl @nobodybutnnoorr @gsyche @walkingcorpse03 @miliondollagirl @keelsforreals @just-coreee @sp1ng @lovingjeankirsten @kuytie @puppenpop @softpia @mawenskiblue @zombriesworld @anqelkoz @zumicho

[about-faces]

Last night, I was once again struggling to actually write smut for a Harvey/Bruce/Gilda fic, when I noticed a very timely new guest comment on my Gilda fic, Bust. It was the first truly critical response I’ve gotten so far, and while that sort of thing would normally send me into a depressive tizzy, I actually found it really interesting!

So instead of actually writing the ship, as I should have been, I wanted to take this opportunity to think about just why the heck I shipped them in the first place.

Here’s how I responded, with added scans to hopefully better illustrate my point, plus some additions that occurred to me upon drafting this post:

I’m actually glad you raised this point, because I would have felt the exact same as you just a few years ago!

I’m gray-asexual, and I used to be a bit bothered by the rise of Bruce/Harvey shippers, because it was their canonical platonic FRIENDSHIP that mattered so much to me. I gradually warmed up to the shippers, because 1.) I realized I was ace and they probably weren’t, and 2.) they at least understood the importance of Bruce and Harvey’s bond, which is more than I can say for LOTS of official DC media.

Still, something bugged me about the ship, and I realized what it was: the lack of Gilda from the equation. She’s always been deeply important to me, especially her scant older appearances, and erasing her for a Bruce/Harvey ship (even one I’d come to appreciate) didn’t sit right with me.

But like you said, it’s not canon, and I’ve always been deeply invested in canon, even the stuff that’s frustrating and contradictory. So yeah, the throuple would have bugged me too.

Except! It all depends on WHICH canon you’re talking about!

So over the past 15 years, I’ve been obsessed with tracking down the entirety of the obscure, forgotten Batman newspaper comic strip from 1989-1991. I’ve posted the entire thing at @batman-daily, and I strongly encourage you to check it out. A couple years ago, I reread it and noticed something really interesting: the remarkable relationship between Bruce, Harvey, and the latter’s wife, Alice, who is Gilda in every way but name. They are all mutual friends, with Alice even going to visit Bruce alone to help/bully him to take care of himself.

It all reads like a perfect long-game setup for a love triangle, or for Harvey—having become Two-Face—to go after his loved ones in a jealous rage, like he did in Paul Dini’s “Two-Timer,” a story which notably showed that Grace had feelings for Bruce.

With that in mind, consider the final story arc of the newspaper strip, wherein Bruce acknowledges his OWN feelings for Alice and PASSIONATELY KISSES HER, all in a hilariously roundabout way to save her marriage to Harvey! It makes sense in context and is frankly hilarious.

And it works! Because Harvey isn’t jealous! The love triangle conflict you expect NEVER HAPPENS! Because they all love one another! And that love saves Harvey in the very end!

Was it explicitly a throuple? No, but nor have Bruce and Harvey ever canonically touched dicks. And yet the love between Bruce and Harvey in canon is true and real enough that shippers who want to make it sexual are perfectly allowed to do so, because it’s the love that matters. At least, for those of us who aren’t afraid to acknowledge the love between men, platonic or otherwise. And that love is rooted in canon.

So consider this: the mutual three-way-love between Bruce, Harvey, and Alice/Gilda is ALSO canon. That comic strip has been officially accepted as DC multiverse canon in the “Crisis on Infinite Earths: Absolute Edition,” which designated it as Earth-1289.

Furthermore, there’s something else you need to consider: the fact that Harvey HAS been used in love triangles against Bruce in several stories in recent decades. I already mentioned “Two-Timer,” but there’s also Nolan’s “The Dark Knight,” the animated “Gotham By Gaslight” film, and the Telltale game. In various ways, these stories serve to throw a wedge in the friendship between Bruce (the protagonist, whose story serves him) and Harvey (the guy who is going to lose it all, the woman included). I hate that shit. I hate the contrived drama that’s meant to stir up needless added conflict between two men who love each other.

And then, on the other hand, you have Mariko Tamaki’s Gilda story from “Batman: Black and White.” Tamaki depicted Harvey and Gilda being in a distant, loveless marriage, where even on their wedding day, he was constantly ignoring her in favor of work. The only person who could actually get his attention was Bruce.

At the time, this felt an awful lot like that problem I was talking about with the Bruce/Harvey shippers: raising up the gay ship while throwing the woman under the bus. In this case, for the purpose of doing an avenging girlboss take on Gilda. I hated that too, especially when Tamaki didn’t even follow through with the gay subtext in her next, miserable Two-Face comic.

You know that meme of a bride, groom, and best man all kissing one another, while the bride flips off the cameraman in the end? @whipbogard redrew the Tamaki wedding scene as that meme, right around the time I reread the comic strip. And suddenly, everything clicked into place for me.

After a lifetime of never, ever having any serious fandom ships, I fell in love with the idea of Bruce/Harvey/Gilda. Take what the comic strip did and bring it into the mainstream canon I love to spite the canon I hate.

In those great old Gilda stories, she saw through Harvey’s bullshit and knew how to reach him, however temporarily. She could do the same with Bruce. She’d be a valuable third voice for the ongoing toxic relationship between Bruce and Harvey, the one who could love them both while also getting to be frustrated with how fucking stupid and fucked-up both these men are.

Before she was reduced to a ride-or-die killer housewife in "The Long Halloween" (which, I'll grant you, has its own appeal), classic Gilda would actually stand up to Harvey and tell him to cut out his shit or else. I love the idea that she can also see right through Bruce, understanding how very alike he and Harvey are, even if they don't want to admit it.

Writing Gilda this way speaks to me as a longtime fan of both men, while also wanting to try to develop her place, as a woman stuck in the middle of their decades' worth of conflict and angst. She sees these men at their best, worst, and most pathetic/ridiculous, and while she's got the nerve to stand up for herself and call them out as needed, she still loves them nonetheless. For me, Gilda has become the voice for fans just like me, who are helpless to stop Batman and Two-Face from continuing the cycle of violent, toxic friendship, but still loving them nonetheless, and always hoping for the best.

So, at this point, let’s say I’ve at least managed to make you grudgingly accept my reasoning for the relationship. Even if that’s true, I’m gonna guess that the mention of a threesome felt like it came out of left field. I can’t argue with that. I wanted to actually write that as its own smutfic but, being ace, I struggle with that. But I really liked the idea, and as I was writing this, it just really wanted to be mentioned, so I included it.

The response has been positive (until now), which indicated to me that I had been successful in introducing Gilda as a viable third into a slice of fandom which had only shipped Bruce and Harvey. This is fanfic, after all, such things are expected, even encouraged, so I leaned into it.

Now, if I were ever (un?)fortunate enough to write for DC, officially? I doubt I’d have the nerve to go that far. But I’d still want to at least embrace the polycule-coded relationship between those three that we saw in the newspaper comic strip. I think it adds a whole new, refreshing spin on their ongoing dynamics, while being rooted in relationships that were established all the way back in 1942 by Bill Finger.

Finger’s story, at its heart, was all about how love can save a life. How love is the only way to defeat the villain. For Harvey Kent’s part, Gilda’s love was every bit as important as Batman’s unwillingness to give up on his friend. So I’m just taking it one step further within the freedom allowed me by fanfic.

Sorry for the length of the reply, but as you can see, I only came to this shit after several decades of thinking about 80+ years of official material. I hope I have at least been able to lessen your feelings of being jarred out of a story you otherwise seemed to appreciate. For my part, I hope to further develop the potential of this fucked-up polycule in future stories, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll be able to get you on board too. Hope to see you then!

(art by ofossart)

[rt-nique]

I’m back. With more art for Banshee in a Well!!!!!

(on ao3 by @liverobinreaction / @bugbeee)

-🦇-

Firstly, my favourite dynamic in the fic was Tim & Cass

Best siblings ever, the last chapter gave me so much healing. She really was there for Tim and comforted him.

-🦇-

Arms wrap around him, warm and familiar, a head of black hair tucking into his neck as he freezes. Cassandra has always been the strongest of them all, and he can feel it in the way she’s gripping him like he’ll disappear any moment now, body trembling and face wet from where it’s pressed against his skin.

Carefully, Tim brings his arms up to hold Cass back. She’s always cried loudly, almost out of spite for the silence beaten into her as a child. But right now, she weeps without a sound. He swallows, his own eyes burning as he buries his face into her collarbone, fingers twisting into the sweater he recognises as his own.

Neither of them says a word for a while. They just hold onto one another and try to breathe.

“I am not leaving. Not again. Not anymore.”

“Cass,” he says, voice dangerously close to cracking, but she just squeezes his wrists gently.

“It is not okay,” she whispers brokenly, but with a kindness he hates and loves in equal measure, “and that is alright.”

“Cry, stupid,” she says, voice trembling.

And Tim-

Tim breathes.

And he finally breaks.

He collapses forward into his sister, chest heaving with sobs that practically tear their way out of his throat, and it hurts more than any death he’s died before. Cass is crying with him, loud and open, but she doesn’t stop holding him, she doesn’t let him go for a second.

(God I eat up all these quotes from the fic. THE AUTHOR IS AMAZING I LOVE THEIR WRITING SO MUCH) *proceeds to ugly cry during every reread*

Timelapse:

[whumpback-wail]

07 - Decrescendo

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader)

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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation. If you think you will not like this story, please just scroll away. You have been warned.

Wriothesley didn’t know how long he sat there watching her sleep, silent tears long since dried out. He couldn’t imagine the trauma that (y/n) must have gone through. She’s really strong, although he wished she didn’t need to be.

A knock sounded at the door, and Neuvilette stepped inside.Wriothesley turned his head around and nodded in greeting, not caring about how he looked with puffy red eyes and tear stains on his face.

“How is she?” The Iudex placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulders.

Wriothesley scoffed, rubbing his nose, “Terrible. We both are.”

Neuvilette nodded, understanding.

“Dougier spilled once we brought in Chlorinde.” At the mention of Dougier’s name, Wriothesley bristled, hands clenching on his thigh.

“She hasn’t even touched him. Wriothesley, we found Arderne’s location.”

“Where?” Wriothesley was on his feet in an instant.

Neuvilette hesitated.

“I… I only came here to tell you that, since you deserve to know the update, but in your current condition, I’m afraid you have to sit this one out.”

Wriothesley couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “What? Why?”

“I am doing this for your sake, Wriothesley. I know that look in your eyes right before you pounced on Dougier. You were going to kill him right there.”

Wriothesley grumbled. As much as he hated it, Neuvilette was right.

“I mean he’ll be dead once he gets sent back to Meropide.” The raven haired Duke sat back down, feeling defeated. He also knew he was acting rashly when he straight up decked Dougier, but that was as if his body moved on its own. That yet again proved Neuvilette’s point. Well fuck.

“But until then, we will have to follow Fontaine’s laws. You know that better than anyone.” 

Sighing, he could only quietly agree with the Iudex. He kept his eyes on (y/n)’s sleeping form as Neuvilette excused himself and left.

Part of him was frustrated, he wanted to do something, anything, to help with the case, especially at such a vital moment. But he also knew he probably wouldn’t be able to hold back once he got his hands on Arderne. If he were alone, he would risk it and he wouldn’t care about serving another sentence in Meropide. But he has (y/n) now, and he didn’t want to leave her behind

Rubbing his nose, he got up to splash some water onto his face. He has to stay strong for her, for them.

Once all traces of tears were gone, he came back to her side, leaving a kiss on her forehead, a silent promise that he would still love and cherish her through thick and thin.

“I’ll be back, my love. I won’t be long.”

Wriothesley needed to clear his head, and he knew exactly what to do. He exited (y/n)’s room and thanked the two men guarding his fiancee, he took a mental note to give Navia a hefty reward to distribute among her men later. They have been a great and reliable help.

Going back down to Meropide, he went straight towards the pankration ring arena, where there are always some boxing targets for him to use. It has been quite a while since he last came here to let off some steam.

After a quick warm up, he let his mind go blank and proceeded to strike the targets. Each punch he threw using a hundred percent of his power, putting in as much body weight into it as possible to make the blows harder. Wriothesley was in a world of his own, head empty and mind solely focused on the target before him, not caring about the eyes of inmates who watched their Duke exercise.

• • •

“So… I heard that it shouldn’t be too painful?” Wriothesley rubbed (y/n)’s shoulders comfortingly. They are at the abortion center of the hospital, awaiting the doctor to prescribe (y/n) the medicine that she would have to take.

“Nope, since the pregnancy is under 5 weeks, we can do it by medication.”

(y/n) swallowed, and gave Wriothesley’s hand a little squeeze. “Will it… Will it hurt the foetus?” As much as she hated Dougier, the experiments, and everything she was forced to go through, the foetus growing inside her, no matter the source, is still innocent.

The doctor smiled and shook her head. “This pill was specially developed in Monstadt by the famous alchemist Albedo, and his assistant, Sucrose, who had used her anemo vision to enhance it even further. It will be completely painless for the foetus and the mother. Besides, the foetus has not developed to the stage where it can feel pain.”

(y/n) nodded, feeling more reassured.

“So now all (y/n) has to do is just take the pills twice a day for 3 days and it should be all good?”

“Yes, it should remove everything from inside her womb. She might feel a bit drowsy as a side effect, but it will not be painful.”

“I will. Thank you so much, doctor.”

• • •

“According to the judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique D’analyse Cardinale, Dougier and Arderne, you are deemed… Guilty.” Neuvilette’s voice seemed to echo through the Opera Epiclese, reverberating through the (y/n)’s chest.

It’s over.

“You have been sentenced to 60 years in the Fortress of Meropide, and you will have to fulfil your duties there, under the command of the Duke of Meropide, Wriothesley.

(y/n)’s eyes darted to Wriothesley, who stood under the balcony of the defendant, where she sat. She didn’t need to see his expression to know how satisfied he looked, it was reflected on the faces of Arderne and Dougier, the two main perpetrators of the facility. They stood on the balcony opposite her’s and their faces were pale as ghosts.

“B-but…” Arderne reasoned, wincing pitifully as his small movement jostled his broken leg, still wrapped in a cast. “But Iudex, surely we will be granted protection once we are back in Meropide-”

“I hate to break it to you,” Wriothesley stepped forward slowly, eyes flashing with a sadistic glint, “But the Fortress of Meropide is not under Fontaine’s Jurisdiction.” He has waited a long time for this.

Neuvilette nodded, repressing the urge to smile, “The Duke is right. The Fortress of Meropide has its own laws and systems, and anyone who has to serve a sentence there is not under the protection of Fontaine’s laws. I suggest you be on your best behaviour while you’re there serving… for the rest of your lives, it may seem.”

A giggle sounded from the back of the room. Furina, from her own balcony as the Archon, clapped her hands. “Bravo! Bravo! What a lovely finale to perhaps the most intense trial in the history of Fontaine! You two certainly broke the record for longest sentence ever given by the Oratrice. So in a way, congratulations!”

Neuvilette knocked his cane on the floor three times, “Lady Furina, if I may conclude the trial-”

“Oh let me do it!” Furina cleared her throat, and with an intonation almost perfectly mimicking Neuvilette, she said “And with that, this trial has concluded. Guards, take them away!”

It felt like a huge weight has lifted off (y/n’s) chest. She felt all the intense feelings she had just moments earlier melt away into misty grey numbness.

It’s over. Everything that happened could just be a bad memory now.

She took a shaky breath and looked downwards to seek her fiance, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for someone?” His voice appeared from behind her, as hands snaked around her waist.

“Wriothesley,” (y/n) turned around and hugged him, letting him catch her full weight as her legs turned to jello and gave up. “It’s over. It’s really over huh?”

Wriothesley kissed her cheeks, damp with tears, “Yeah, sorry you had to revisit old wounds, I know you want to forget everything, and keep the things that happened to you to as few people as possible. I hope not opening the trial to the public helped.”

(y/n) shook her head, “honestly, not really. But it was necessary, I know.”

During the trial, (y/n) had to be escorted out of the room a few times as she was starting to hyperventilate. Her therapist was there, always right by her side. It was unfortunate that Wriothesley had to stand below her balcony, joining the rest of the witnesses to this case. She would have felt better to have him right beside her.

She sniffed, wiping the remnants of her tears from her face. “Can… Can we go home now?”

Smiling, Wriothesley swept her off her feet and into his arms in a princess carry. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Walking out of the Opera Epiclese, (y/n) held onto Wriothesley tightly, burying her face into his neck. “So…”

“So…?”

“So what now?”

Wriothesley hummed, and (y/n) could feel the vibrations from his chest, “I suppose you have another therapy session tomorrow, so I’ll take you back to the hospital. But hey, at least now that you’re discharged, you don’t have to sleep there anymore.”

(y/n) smiled, “Yeah, I’ll be sleeping in our home, with you.”

“And we’ll do our absolute best to make things go back to normal, well… As normal as it gets anyway.”

She looked up at her fiance, who has been by her side through the worst of times, and still stayed despite how she had pushed him away in fear. She felt another feeling replace the numbness in her heart. Love.

Lifting her hand, she caressed Wriothesley’s cheek, and gently turned his head to face her. His footsteps faltered and his eyes closed automatically the moment he felt her press her lips against his.

Once they broke apart, (y/n)’s world was filled by the brilliance of the grin that stretched across Wriothesley’s face, “Well that was our first kiss after a very long while.”

Embarrassed, (y/n) buried her face into his neck again. Her ears tinged red, giving away the flush that had bloomed across her cheeks. “I just felt like doing that.”

Wriothesley chuckled, and continued walking, but this time he changed directions and went to the side of the road. He sat (y/n) down on short the stone walls that fenced the clean brick roads, and picked a rainbow tulip nearby.

“(y/n), love, I know I’ve done this before, and you’ve already said yes, but I think I need to do this again.” He got on knee, and fished inside his jacket pocket, taking out a ring that matched the one on his finger.

“(y/n), we have been through a lot these past months. The road was rough and the skies were dark. But even so, we pulled through together. You were so strong having overcome everything, and I couldn’t be more proud of you. You voiced out your concerns at your lowest point, and I wanted to reassure you again to make sure you never have such thoughts ever again. I love you so much, and I never wish to be parted from you from this day on. (y/n full name), Will you marry me?”

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{{(＞＜)}       ☆ ～('▽^人)

Well that de-escalated quickly, I honestly was stuck and didn't know what to write after the previous chapter because I wrote the entire fic only for chapter 5 and 6, it was pure self indulgence that somehow blew up here on Tumblr. After that usually the ‘scenario I play in my head to fall asleep’ ends and I’m already asleep. So I think the next chapter would be the epilogue, to wrap everything up neatly (and emotionally). I will also post the originally planned plot of Trial by Fire after that, because I think you guys deserve to know it (frankly I think it’s much better than this blurb, and much longer).

Though I think this chapter could be better, heck this fic could be better in general. If it were more detailed and longer with better descriptions and scenes to show (y/n)’s recovery from the incident. Something more show than tell. But since the beginning, I did tell myself I will keep it short, since writing does take a lot of time and energy, and with the amount of work I have as an illustrator, it looks almost impossible. So perhaps my next work would be one-shots or just 3 chapters max. It definitely won’t be as long (but will be as angsty with hurt/comfort heheheheheh)

Now I’m a little curious. How do you fall asleep? Do you think of all sorts of scenarios or keep your mind blank? Or just scroll on your phone until you fall asleep? For me, it’s usually  angst and hurt/comfort scenarios with my favourite characters. Some could be self-inserted, others not really. Not sure why that works best for me, but if it works, it works.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story so far! If anyone wants to rewrite this to your own version, you can contact me, and please credit this fic when you publish yours. I’d love to read what you come up with!

Last but not least, thank you so much for reading! I hope you all stay safe and healthy, and I hope you have a wonderful year this 2024! Cheers!

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr @chifuyus-kitty @bunnibabe @the-real-fandom-person @idawnghoul @kitsunechan707

[thewulf]

So Clueless || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - I do want to add to your plate if you don't mind 😬 can I request a hotch x younger!reader fic where it's years after WITSEC and his retirement and he's remarried to someone younger he met at his new, normal person job... Read Rest Here

A/N: I'm back!! Loved writing this one so much! Hope you guys enjoy :)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.8k+

You never planned to change your last name if you ever got married. You came through on that plan after falling in love and marrying Aaron Hotchner. He, in his early fifties, and you, a little younger than that, fell in love quickly after meeting at work when he started there almost ten years prior. You were a zookeeper and Aaron was your area manager, the rest was quite literally history.

The two of you hid the secret relationship until he was moved elsewhere in the zoo finally allowing you to come out with it. Dating turned to an engagement turned to marriage. You became Jack’s, now 17, stepmom and brought in his younger brother, Riley who just turned 9, and sister, Madison who was 7, not too long after the two of you tied the knot. Weeks turned to months turned to years and you loved your life, you really did. But the kids were getting older, and you needed a bit of a challenge. Aaron joked about you joining the FBI and the idea stuck. You weren’t a profiler, no, but you would make a damn good communications liaison. You’d basically become that for the zoo you were working at anyway. Your position of zookeeper gradually shifted to communications lead throughout the park.

Your plan was put on hold until one fateful afternoon when you saw the elusive job posting come through to your inbox. You just kept rereading the job posting before making sure your resume was up to date. You wanted to apply but decided to wait for Aaron to make sure it looked as good as possible. He worked there for years, he had to have some tricks up his sleeve.

It wasn’t a few hours later that all three of your children and Aaron came bounding through the front door off to do whatever they had planned. You’d always offered to pick the kids up from their various sports practices after work, but Aaron often refused, he wanted to spend the time with them. You could only imagine how guilty he felt about missing out on Jacks start of life. He refused to miss out on any of Riley’s or Maddie’s.

“Sweetheart.” Aaron kissed your cheek as you finished putting dishes in the dishwasher.

“Hi hon.” You hugged his side pulling him into your embrace, “How was your day?” Laying your head on his chest you looked up to him with all the love in your eyes.

“Pretty uneventful. Mandy and Anthony were at each other’s necks again. The animals behaved better than people, the usual.” He hugged you back brushing a few strands of stray hair from your eyeline.

This was his favorite part of the day, spending time with you. The fact that he knew he got to come home to you warmed his heart. Too often before he spent time in hotel rooms instead of his own bed. Oh, how he loved his own bed.

You grinned, “They just need to hook up already. For everybody’s sanity’s sake.”

“Y/N!” He laughed squeezing your side.

You pulled away from him shrugging, “What? You know they only bicker like that for one reason. They both need to just need to get it over with. I think Tammy said she was going to kill one of them sooner or later if they don’t shut the hell up. Her words, not mine.” You pulled a beer out of the fridge handing it to him. It was a Friday night, neither of you had any commitments in the morning, why not get your husband a little tipsy?

He took it from you, happily, “Cheers.”

You clinked glasses with him giving him nothing but a happy smile.

“Anything we’re drinking for something?” He raised an eyebrow, surely profiling you.

Letting your head nod up and down you laughed softly, “How do you always know?”

He smiled walking closer to you, “It was once my job to notice.” He pulled you back into his embrace by looping a finger through your jean belt loop, pulling you right towards him.

“Speaking of that.” You leaned your chin on his chest looking up at him with a smile. You didn’t miss his eyebrow raise in curiosity, “Job opening just came through.” Handing him your phone you waited for him to say something, anything. He knew how hard you’d been working to set yourself up as the most desirable candidate. Often going to lectures and seminars. Inserting yourself in the world you were so far away from. Going to go get a criminal communications degree at the FBI’s favorite school, Georgetown. You wanted more, needed more than what you were stuck doing.

He nodded giving you another once over, “Honey are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” You smiled, “I finally graduated with my criminal communications degree. I’ve outgrown my position at the zoo. I think it’s perfect timing Aaron.”

“Okay sweetheart. Let’s go get that resume cleaned up.” He reached for your hand ready to get down to business. He’d do anything for you, and this was what you wanted so that made it what he wanted too.

You weren’t sure how much Aaron had helped but you knew it had to be more than he was admitting to. He claimed he simply gave Prentiss and Strauss a call to put in a good word. You knew it was more than that when you got the compensation offer for far more than you’d discussed. You weren’t going to question it though. Your mom always told you never to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You’d have assumed Aaron had told somebody of your relation to him. That assumption was soon to be proven untrue when you met the infamous BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss from all of Aaron’s stories who was clearly trying to figure you out. When she asked you, “Are you married?” You knew she hadn’t a clue who you were. This was so Aaron to keep his two lives completely separated. A little heads up would’ve been nice though.

“I am. I have a stepson and two kids with him.” You smiled wondering how long you could play this game until they figured it out.

Emily smiled pressing the elevator button going up, “What are their names?” She was just being friendly. Knowing she was childfree for good reason.

You knew it wouldn’t give you away in the slightest, but it gave you the slightest thrill to speak his name out loud, “Jack is my stepson. Riley and Maddie are my younger two.” You pulled out a picture that strategically hid the younger Hotchner’s face showing it to Emily.

“They’re adorable.” She handed the phone back to you.

“Do you have any?” You asked knowing the answer. It felt odd knowing everything about her, yet she hadn’t a clue who you were. But you had to play stupid, or you’d make it pretty obvious something was up.

She shook her head, “No. But I have six agents that act like it sometimes.” She shot you a wink letting you get out of the elevator first. You got along great with the team after quickly recognizing JJ, Spencer, Morgan, and Penelope from Aaron’s pictures. Playing dumb was getting harder and harder throughout the day when you let it slip that your husband’s name was Aaron and that his son Jack had just gotten his license in a story you were retelling. Something they had just been told by him not that long ago. Surprisingly nobody picked up on anything, not that you could tell anyway. You weren’t a profiler but being married to one had you pick up on the small things that people normally glossed over.

When you got home that night you had Aaron howling with laughter after you detailed the day and how his old team didn’t seem to have a clue that you were in fact his wife of nearly ten years now.

“Don’t tell them. Let’s see how long it takes.” He cupped your face in his hands brushing his thumbs over your lips softly, waiting for your response.

A slight nod in his hands, “Any reason?” You asked, all too curious.

He shook his head, “Let’s see how well I trained them.” He laughed again. You joined in finding his joy more than contagious. More often than not he was in an incredible mood finding any and every reason to make you smile.

“They’re not doing so well Agent Hotchner.” You baited him. Taking a step back with a silly little smirk you watched his reaction.

He threw his hands up, “it’s only been a day sweetheart. Give them a week or two.”

“That’s a deal.” You grinned pulling his waist in for a quick kiss on the lips. Grinning when you felt him smile into the kiss. You felt those similar butterflies you always got from him. How he managed to make you swoon all these years later was beyond your wildest dreams.

They in fact did not figure it out within a week or two. It had been a month now since you started working with the BAU at the FBI and they had yet to even piece two and two together. You’d given them your whole life story minus pictures. The only good excuse you had was that you were private. It worked though. Nobody pried. You provided the same courtesy to them too. Only digging as far as they’d let you.

Aaron had even gotten his longtime friend and colleague, the one you’d actually met, Rossi to play the game. He stopped by the offices every now and then to help the team when they were in town. Retirement was great but even he had to admit he was terribly bored. He claimed he needed to keep his brain from going mushy, so he had to help on cases.

He was having all too much fun testing the team, “Y/N.” He called bringing you back to the present and away from your mind.

“Yes, Rossi?” You looked up from the stack of paperwork you were powering through, definitely your least favorite thing about the job.

“How’s your husband doing? Haven’t talked with him in a while.” He smirked knowing only you could see his face.

He wasn’t technically lying. Aaron and Dave normally spoke almost daily. They’d been missing each other this week though, “He’d good. Said he’s looking forward to seeing you and Pat this weekend.”

Morgan frowned interrupting the conversation between the two of you, “You know her husband?”

Had somebody  finally started picking up on it? How was Rossi going to talk his way out of this one?

Rossi nodded, “Oh yeah, we go back years. Friends for a long time. It’s a small world.”

Derek nodded trying to get a better read on the situation, “They’ve known each other longer than we have.” You smiled. If the team hadn’t been so overloaded he might’ve picked up on it. But he simply nodded turning back to his massive pile of bullshit he had to get done before he could leave.

“That was close.” You whispered earning a soft chuckle from the older man.

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

You waved, “See you Dave.”

“Small world? Huh?” Derek looked back up giving you a side eye almost as if he didn’t fully believe your story.

“Incredibly small.” You confirmed.

If he knew he didn’t say a word. It wouldn’t be that hard to hide if they did any sort of digging, which you were sure Penny had already done. Why she hadn’t told the whole team was a mystery unto itself. There wasn’t a chance she didn’t do a deep dive on you for Strauss before the FBI hired you. Maybe Aaron had gotten to her before you did?

You only laughed when you saw Rossi’s old pickup truck siting in your driveway as you pulled in after working later into the night. To your delight the house was quiet leading you to believe the kids were elsewhere for the weekend. Aaron always had a plan, always. Something you’d grown to love very deeply. He could take charge of any and every situation no matter how big or small.

“David, I thought you said you’d be over Sunday. Not that I’m not happy you’re here.” You grinned setting your work bag down by the kitchen island.

“That was the plan until this afternoon. Aaron needed to know how his team is missing every sign.” David poured you a glass of the chilled Pinot Grigio he brought over.

“They are busy Rossi, be nice.” You took a long sit of the cool wine.

Rossi smiled, “We have to send in the big guns Monday Aaron. Jack has to come in. Bring in Y/N’s lunch or something.”

“That’ll give it away.” You grinned setting the glass down.

He shrugged, “They’ll never figure it out at this rate.”

Aaron sighed, “I’ve got to admit. I’m a little disappointed.” The smile on his face betrayed his words though. He loved every second of this. And with Jack being off for the summer he didn’t see why he couldn’t conveniently drive him in to drop off his mom’s lunch.

The plan sprang to life when Monday rolled around. You couldn’t believe Derek had gotten up almost the second that Jack walked out of the elevator. Waving him over you didn’t notice any of your teammates watching. Unreal, what were the odds of that.

He’d almost gotten in and out unspotted, or so you thought, before Derek walked back over spotting the now grown Hotchner.

“Hey kid! What are you doing here? You grew another three inches since the last time we saw you a few months ago.” Derek roughed the teen’s hair up. You only grinned sitting in your seat, somehow he’d missed the entire interaction between the two of you.

“Just dropping off my mom’s lunch.” Jack smiled knowing what game he had to play too. The Hotchner boys were having way too much fun with all of this.

“She works here?” Derek asked, surprise evident in his voice. He didn’t suspect a thing.

“She does.” He didn’t elaborate any further knowing he’d give the whole gig up if he did, careful not to look back at you.

You watched as Derek tried to figure out who the hell it could be. Obviously it had to be somebody on the floor. It wouldn’t be long before he put it all together now, “Well I hope that means we’ll see you some more kid.”

He nodded, “When I’m not in school. See you later Derek.”

“See you Y/N.” He waved making sure not to blow his cover.

“Bye Jack.” You winked at him making sure Derek couldn’t see, “I’ll see you later.”

When you looked back over at Derek he was staring right at you, “Sweet kid.”

He nodded confirming what you had just said. Curiosity got the better of him as he asked, “Did you see who his mom was?” Missing the fact that Jack just said bye to you and knew your name.

You shook your head, “Afraid not.”

“Interesting.” He kept looking at you. Then to the lunch that was sitting at your desk then back at you. He had to know. He was far too smart not too. But he didn’t say a word.

Raising an eyebrow, you knew he was so close to connecting the dots, “What is?” Giving him a sweet smile trying your best to play it off.

“Hotchner’s kid being here. Last thing I expected to see today.” He sat down at his desk across from yours.

You bobbed your head along, “Old boss?”

Derek hummed turning back to his paperwork letting you know he was getting back to work. How he hadn’t gotten it yet was a little surprising to you but being bogged down with so much work probably did have something to do with it. You didn’t see Spencer sitting there at his own desk across the aisle listening in very closely. He did see Jack come right up to you handing you a brown paper bag before making a beeline to Rossi’s office. It didn’t take him more than two seconds after that to realize you were his old boss’s wife. How could he not have seen it? Sure, you didn’t take his last name, but he still should’ve put it together. You weren’t shy about using his and Jack’s names.

Spencer let out an audible sigh once he realized deciding to keep his mouth shut. It was clearly a game at this point. How long would it take the rest of the team to notice?

You smiled looking at the team photos on the wall in the conference room. It was fun to see Aaron in his element outside of what he does now. It was hard to believe he was so serious and rigid. So different than the carefree man he was now. The one he was allowed to be after taking the retirement deal Strauss offered him all those years ago.

“That was is 2009. We were all pretty new to the team back then. Minus Hotch and Rossi.” Spencer’s voice spoke from beside you. That drew your eyes away from your young husband and back towards him.

“You all look like babies.” You laughed scanning over the much younger faces of the team members.

Spencer smiled, “I’d like to say we were naïve too, but we were years into it at that point. We’d seen it all, how awful humanity could be.”

You couldn’t fully understand Aaron’s stories until you had gotten here. This team truly saw the worst of the worst and stories only told you so much. In just your month here you fully understood. You got why he cautioned you. You could certainly handle it. It didn’t make it any easier though.

“Yeah, at least you had each other right?” You asked.

“Couldn’t have done it without them.” He turned pointing towards Aaron, “Without him. He did a lot for us. Miss him a lot sometimes.”

“He’s handsome.” You grinned not thinking Spencer had a clue of his relation to you.

He ignored you asking his own question, “Did you change your last name when you got married?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, too much of a hassle now a days. My friend got into a legal nightmare with taxes when everything didn’t switch over properly.”

He laughed softly enjoying your rambling, “What’s his last name then. Aaron what? Don’t think you ever told us, Y/N.” He leaned back on the wall grinning like a little Cheshire cat.

Busted. He had to have known. Do you tell him? Might as well, “Hotchner.” You bit your cheek to hide the little smile that was threatening to spill over.

He clapped his hands together, “I knew it.”

“Course you figured it out.” You laughed seeing the excitement of being right cross his face, “What gave it away?”

“Jack dropping off your lunch.” He scratched the back of his head, “It’s a little embarrassing I didn’t figure that out sooner.”

You shrugged, “It’s not like I’ve met you before. Plus, we’re more than a little busy here.”

“Is that why we didn’t get an invite to the wedding? He wanted to hide that side of his life away?” A flash of what looked like hurt crossed his face before a neutral expression took over.

You shook your head quickly, “Our parents didn’t even get an invite. It was just me, Jack, and Aaron.” You bumped your hip against his trying your best to reassure him.

Relief washed over, “Small wedding.”

You laughed, “Very intimate. We’d both already done the big fancy weddings. We wanted to make it just about us. It was incredible.” You admitted to him. Divulging another aspect of your life to him that had yet to come up. You’d gotten married and divorced. Married far too young with no plan didn’t make for a very loving and lasting relationship.

“Wait.” Derek’s booming voice came from the entrance of the conference room, “You’re married to Hotch?”

You spun around on your heal facing Derek and the team behind him with equally confused expressions, “Guilty as charged.” You smiled at them. You had to start laughing seeing all their expressions go from confusion to recognition to acceptance.

“Finally!” Penny let out a rather large sigh of relief, “I’ve been hiding that for far too long.” She shot you a wink.

Derek cocked his head to the side, “Why didn’t you say something baby girl?”

You spoke up for her knowing he was about to try and guilt trip her, “It was Aaron’s idea. Rossi and I just played along. Penny’s good at keeping secrets.” You returned her wink noting Rossi’s absence. He’d be so annoyed he missed this.

Derek’s jaw looked like it was about to hit the floor, “Well I guess it’s nice to formally meet you Mrs. Hotchner.”

Shaking your head you responded with a big cheesy grin on your own face, “He thinks he failed you all at this rate. We had a bet that you’d get it within two weeks. He took the under.”

“Don’t look so smug Hotchner lite.” He took two fingers and pointed them right at you.

The entire room erupted at that one, “Hotchner lite. I like that one.” You answered him once all the laughter died down.

“Alright,” Emily commanded the attention back from the room, “Hotch owes us all a round after pulling that little stunt.”

“That he does.” You agreed, “He said your all invited over once you figure it out. Consider this the formal invitation.” The team agreed before the day started and the case was given. Fortunately, the case was local.

When you got home late that night you found your husband quickly wrapping him in a big hug before spilling the details of your day. He stood there listening to every word like it could be your last. Just another thing you adored about him. He just made you feel so cherished and adored.

“Of course, it was Reid.” Aaron chuckled once you finished the story, “For as smart as they all are they can be so clueless sometimes.”

“That’s what I said!” You joined in the laughter with him as the two of you snuggled in on the couch. Neither of you making a move to turn on the TV, just enjoying each other’s presence. Leaning your head down on his chest your eyes drifted shut listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I love you sweetheart, get some sleep.” He ran his hands through your hair knowing that’d knock you right on out.

“Love you.” You mumbled before falling asleep on top of him, happier than ever with the way your life seemed to just fall into line.

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[rassvetsky]

i was wondering if u can come up with ‘a trust issue who needs reassurance all the time’ reader and ‘i dont know how to communicate my feelings’ bucky. basically a miscommunication trope.

i will accept however storyline and ending you make because i love you and i love ur writing💕❤️❤️

hi babe!! i really really hope i did your wonderful request at least some justice because i got too carried away-- i hope you like it! thank you for existing ♡

Out Of Mind

bucky barnes x reader

"Falling in love with you terrified Bucky, enough to push you away. He was sure that it's better this way. But merely a week later, when you disappear without a trace, Bucky realized that he couldn't handle being without you."

[5.2k] | angst with a happy ending, miscommunication, arguing, bucky being an asshole at first but he has his reasons, natasha being protective, sassy tony, canon level violence, fighting, reader getting minor injuries, clint is the loml, bucky is an idiot in love my dudes, they're so cute god help me

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

Bucky used to be a simple man, Steve had told you long ago. After all those years of torture, he developed… Complexity.

And you couldn't agree more.

He was a tender lover to begin with, the one to always make sure that you were alright, the one to put your wellbeing above his. He wasn't good with words- wasn't the most expressive man out there, but you understood him. You understood why he never included cards in the flowers he sent to you, or sometimes didn't say anything back to your love declarations other than a bashful smile; you understood that for him, these things worked in different ways now.

And that's why he loved you so much. That's why he was terrified.

Because the deeper he fell for you, the more intense his feelings got. The harder his separation anxiety hit, the more mushed his brain became.

And in any other scenario, that would be lovely. Those butterflies that one would feel in their stomach, or the sweet little dumbification that came hand to hand with love. In another life, he'd bask in the feeling. He'd see the world around him under a different light, a light that you cast on his life.

But in this life? It was nothing but dangerous. Nothing but absolutely horrendous.

Because he was supposed to focus. He was supposed to be alert. His fight or flight response had to be on at all times and no matter what, he was supposed to prioritize his life to save the others.

He couldn't do that when you were involved, not anymore. The paranoia got too much- he was terrified of seeing you get hurt, of losing you in any way. That fear brought out the worst in him, causing fights to break out whenever you willingly got yourself in trouble, distracting him, making you drift apart further.

You didn't want that. He didn't want that. But life for you wasn't always just movie nights at the compound, breakfasts on bed, long nights of talking about the future.

He had to let the chips fall where they may.

You needed reassurance, he knew that. But suddenly, after the last mission you went on with the team including Bucky, he suddenly… Stopped doing that. That bashful grin was nowhere to be seen when you told him you loved him, when you held his hand it just didn't last as long as it usually did, he… He didn't even look at you properly. And that went on for days, each day worse than the one before, until he barely even talked to you.

And the dread you felt on your chest was unbearable.

The night-time fell quicker than any other day that one evening, as you prepared yourself a warm tea to accompany your book. Carrying the mug up to your shared room with Bucky, you slowly got under the sheets, holding the book open with one hand, mug with the other.

The plot was barely interesting to you with all the thoughts running through your mind, snatching your attention from the words, making you have to go back and reread the same paragraphs over and over. It wasn't anything new, this type of distraction, but more often than not, it was the aftermath of the latest mission plaguing your mind. Not your boyfriend being excessively restrained towards you, as if your sole existence was a problem for him.

Speaking of, maybe it was. Maybe you were too high-maintenance for him, maybe you weren't giving him enough space, maybe he was just going through something. Or maybe, he was done with you. He didn't need you anymore, now that he got rid of the vivid nightmares and dissociations-

How cruel of you to think that. How cruel of him to leave that open as a possibility.

With your tea half-drank, you set the mug back on the nightstand, pinning the bookmark between the pages before leaving it by the mug. You didn't feel like laying down- didn't think you could fall asleep with your mind on overdrive like this anyway. Getting up from where you were laid across, you slowly made your way over to the window, arms crossed on your chest as you heaved a sigh. The view was nice, moonlight illuminated enough of the surrounding trees, and if you were to squint, you could see the grass shine wetly, with a layer of dew upon them.

You couldn't help the way your shoulders tensed a bit when the door knob twisted open, hearing the heavy steps of your lover and a sigh leaving his lips. Your back was facing him still, and you didn't dare to look at him, figuring he was busy changing his clothes judging by the shuffling sound of fabric.

The slight squeak of the mattress brought a bitter grin to your lips as you spoke up. "Not even gonna talk to me?"

He was quiet for a full minute. "Sorry. I'm tired, sweetheart."

"Of me?"

"What?" he sounded surprised. "Wha- why would I be tired of you?"

"I don't know." you sighed. "You've been acting incredibly distant for the past week. Figured I was tiring you out."

Another squeak, he was on his feet now. Slowly walking towards you, he rested a hand on the small of your back, but you still didn't look at him. You wouldn't admit that to yourself but you really didn't want to know the truth.

"Don't be ridiculous," he spoke, tone quiet. "It's just that… The missions, you know how they-"

"We went through rougher missions back then," you chuckled. "On the verge of death, covered in blood. Missions that went on for months. You didn't treat me like this then."

"How am I treating you?"

"Like I'm a fucking nuisance!" you finally snapped, pushing his hand away from your body before turning towards him. Your eyes were wide with anger, chest heaving. "You're treating me like you don't even want to see me!"

"You're my girlfriend!" he was bewildered, albeit a bit guilty. "Of course I want to see you, what the fuck are you even talking about?!"

A scoff left your lips. "Fuck that! You used to treat me better when we were barely friends," you watched him look away, annoyed. "I've been trying to give you some space but you- you just won't tell me shit! You're barely talking to me, anyway! How the hell am I supposed to know what I did wrong if you won't even talk to me, Bucky?!"

Bucky felt his heart getting heavier. "Stop assuming that you did something wrong-"

"Then what else?! What else can I assume? For fuck's sake, am I supposed to assume that there's someone else, or you're just- you're just sick of me. That you don't need me anymore, is that what I'm supposed to think?" you could feel the tears building up by your waterline. "Fucking hell, it'd hurt way less if I was sure that it's all my fault! Or- even if you were- I just- just tell me what the fuck is wrong with you, please?"

"Nothing!" he was loud, suddenly. The sudden outburst had you taking a step back in instinct, and he panicked so hard for a moment that he almost took a step towards you.

He knew he shouldn't.

"Nothing, okay? Just one of those weeks. Leave it alone."

"Fine." you sighed. "Fine, I'll leave it alone. I'll leave you alone, Bucky, to figure your shit out and- please, for the love of God, don't talk to me until you do. I'm done being treated like garbage." and with a final shove to his chest, you walked out of the door.

Bucky knew that he deserved that.

Hell, he deserved a solid punch for the way he was treating you but he didn't know how else to act. He didn't know what else to do. He was so sick of worrying, being in a constant state of paranoia because of you, so sick of his heart hurting like someone reached right into his chest and severed it off whenever you got hurt.

Was he protecting himself, or you?

"Hey," Sam swiftly sat by Bucky's side with a bowl of cereal on his palms, not giving the other a chance to walk away before speaking up again. "You good? You look like… Hell, I can't sugarcoat this. You look like absolute shit."

Bucky felt like absolute shit.

"I'm fine." he muttered, eyes trained on the big TV screen in front of them. The compound had been pretty quiet for the past few weeks, with the main troublemakers scattered around the globe for a mission.

Sam saw right through his bullshit, though. "Your girl ain't talking to you?"

"None of your business."

"She looks like absolute shit too."

Bucky took a moment to process that.

"Did you guys fight?"

"Again, none of your business, Sam." heaving a sigh, Bucky slowly pushed himself up to his feet, leaving Sam sitting on the couch all alone. Natasha, who was busy making herself something to eat to get through lunch, decided to chime in after Bucky managed to take a few steps away.

"You push her away the second things get hard and then wonder why she hates you."

If looks could kill, Bucky's would murder everyone in that room under three seconds. "She doesn't hate me."

"You want her to hate you."

"Bullshit."

"Because you hate yourself. Isn't that it?"

Sam's eyes were wide when he looked at Natasha. She was the one to deliver a hard kick on the shin when one needed it, tough-loving and relentless with her words- not to hurt the other, but to give them a chance to see things from a different perspective.

When Bucky didn't say anything, Natasha decided to continue. "I don't know how you're justifying this in that 'cyborg' brain but you don't have one single right to punish her. For absolutely no reason, too."

"Natasha-"

"Shut it, Sam." she shook her head. "We get it, you don't like fights. But I never took you for a coward, James, and you're not being anything else but that with the way you're refusing to fight for her."

Nobody said anything else for a solid minute, while Natasha kept glaring at Bucky. His eyes were on the ground now, the harsh nature of Natasha's words hitting him right across the chest- and it hurt. It hurt bad, because he knew that he was hurting you on purpose. "How do I make it right?"

"In my opinion? Leave her the fuck alone-"

"No, no. Natasha, calm your horses," Sam got up from where he was seated, approaching the two with a relaxed expression to calm them both down. "Just tell her how you feel, man. Be real with her. Be completely honest- if you don't love her anymore, just say so. If that's not the case, then-"

"I love her, Sam."

A soft sigh left Sam's lips. "I know. Just talk to her. She'll understand."

Bucky shook his head in a nod. The idea of talking to you was nerve-wracking, to say the least. You hadn't talked to him in a week, despite living in the same compound. Didn't even dare to step into your shared room when he was there, instead deciding to take on a vacant room for a while and get your work done in silence.

You were afraid of continuing that argument, honestly. Because you and Bucky- you two weren't the type to argue. Problems would be solved in peace at all times, with both parties admitting to their faults. So when that dynamic changed, it freaked you out. Just like how falling in love with you freaked out Bucky.

"FRIDAY," Bucky called out. "Where's Y/N?"

An automated voice answered immediately. "I'm afraid that information is classified." Bucky tensed up quicker than he'd like to admit.

"What?" Sam muttered under his breath, gaze finding Natasha's confused one. Natasha spoke up not too long afterwards. "What do you mean by classified?"

"Mr. Stark specifically requested that I keep Mrs. Y/L/N's current location confidential."

"Fucking hell," Bucky heaved a sigh. "Have any of you seen her today?"

"Nah," with a shrug, Sam walked towards the counter to set down his bowl of cereal, suddenly not interested in the food but rather, your whereabouts. "Last I saw her… Yesterday evening, yeah. She was leaving Tony's office, didn't say anything."

"Where did she go after that?"

"Man, how would I know? I'm not keepin' tabs on your girlfriend, that's your job."

"FRIDAY, where's Tony?" Natasha ignored the two, focusing on the matter at hand. For all she knew, you weren't the one to keep secrets from the team. Even on solo missions, you would always keep your tracker on just in case.

"In his office. Shall I inform Mr. Stark of your visit?"

"Nope." lips pressed into a thin line, and a not-so-apologetic shrug. Typical Tony Stark nature. "Just because you live here doesn't mean you have to know everything."

"But she's my girlfriend."

"Just because she made that mistake doesn't mean you have to know everything, Barnes." Tony quipped. "If anyone else in this room was on her position and I were to give away your location, which she specifically made sure that I wouldn't tell, I would be murdered horrendously."

"It's not like her to do that." Natasha's tone was way softer than Bucky's, understandably. She was mad at Bucky and worried about you at the same time but still, keeping her cool was an art form and she was doing it beautifully. "We're just worried, that's all."

"You don't seem like her parents to me."

"Would you tell us if we were her parents?"

"Wilson, use your head. Of course I wouldn't." plopping down on his seat with a huff, Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'd beg to differ but I'm a very virtuous and excruciatingly handsome man, and I made a promise, so… The door is right behind you. I got a lot of stuff to do."

The sound of Bucky's palm meeting the desk separating him from Tony caused everyone's eyes to find his, including Tony. "You have to give me something."

"I don't owe you anything." Tony's words were like venom as they dripped from his tongue, his challenging gaze on Bucky's rampageous one. "But if you really, really want her to hate all of you, fine. She's on a solo mission."

"A solo mission?! You sent her on a solo mission?!" Sam was quick to grab Bucky by the arm, pulling him back a little.

"Man, calm down-"

"Last time I checked, she was perfectly capable of handling a mission and taking care of herself." Tony spoke, calm despite the furious man standing in front of him. "She wanted to go. Why the hell would I say no?"

"Bucky, he's right." Natasha pushed herself up from the wall she was leaning on. Signaling for Sam to possibly take Bucky out of the office with her eyes, she approached the desk. "I'm sure she's fine and she only did that just so you wouldn't go after her."

"Yeah," Sam continued. "Let's just- let's get you out of here. She'll be back before you know it."

Tony didn't miss the glare Bucky sent his way when he left the office with Sam.

Feeling Natasha's judgmental eyes on him, he looked up at her, leaning back on his seat comfortably. "Do you need anything?"

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing, except for her location."

"No," Natasha shook her head. "It's obvious you didn't tell us everything. I'm not expecting you to, but I've known you for a long time, Tony. I can see it when you're leaving a crucial part out."

A sigh left Tony's lips.

"She's indeed on a solo mission. A mission that I know absolutely nothing about, and she disabled her own tracker."

"Are you sure nobody knows you're here?"

"God, Clint, what's with all the secrecy?" you weren't even sure your hushed whisper was heard by Clint, crowded streets of Hong Kong were noisy enough to usher a headache within you. You hadn't seen him in a while, with him retiring again, and God he retired a lot, but after receiving a message with 'emergency, don't tell anybody.' and coordinates, you rushed to his aid rather immediately.

You owed him a lot.

Following him to a small apartment building as he pushed the door open, you looked behind to see if anybody was following, before climbing up the stairs with him. "What's going on?"

"Extraction." he whispered. "Kind of a sensitive one. Tony didn't want anyone involved."

"I really think Laura should lock you up sometimes."

"So do I, kid."

Your time spent in his small hideout apartment was filled with intel and planning. It was supposed to be a very quiet mission, a sensitive one like he mentioned earlier- a swift infiltration to save a former SHIELD agent from where he was held prisoner, just so he could return to his research.

You didn't quite understand why Tony wouldn't want anyone to be involved and to save the agent, but you weren't going to ask. You trusted Clint, sometimes more than you did Tony, and if Clint told you that what he's doing was right, then you'd believe him.

The next day, with both of you suited up, his arrows ready and your secret knives hidden beneath layers of fabric all around your body; the quiet approach to the building went pretty smoothly. He kept telling you to keep your cool and to keep it quiet. This was a stealth op, and made sure to assure you that you were excellent at those.

Except, for all the stealth operations, your partner was Bucky. He was the one who knew exactly what you were going to do without needing you to tell him, he was the one who fought by your side, in so much sync with you that it felt like you two were one mind split to two bodies. You felt safer when he was by your side, calm enough to perform better.

You didn't tell Clint that. You didn't tell him that you felt way too insecure without Bucky by your side to perform well.

He was expecting your help, and you were going to deliver.

Except, things took a turn for the worse far too quickly. You got into the room in which the agent was kept, with Clint following from far behind to keep you safe; and saved the agent from his restraints. Before you could lead him out, though, you heard Clint telling you to stop taking your time because apparently, a swarm of people were coming your way, and he had to hide.

You helped the agent all the way down to the ground from the first floor, through the piping by the outer side of the wall and informed Clint of your current location, before spotting a few men running your way.

Pushing the agent away towards the woods where he could hide and protect himself, you pulled your gun out and managed to down at least two of the five men. You noticed one of them following the agent as the two attacked you; landing a harsh kick by one's neck before sliding out your knife and swinging it at the other's direction, but the distraction that they needed came quickly when through your in-ear, you heard Clint's voice again.

"Shit, abort. Get the hell out of there, get away from the building."

And a loud explosion right to your left followed.

Natasha was torn.

Tony's words kept replaying themselves on her head as she paced around the room, unable to decide between telling Bucky and keeping it to herself. She didn't know what she would be risking if she told him, but at the same time, you could get yourself in a much bigger situation and a supporting pair of eyes at solo missions were always required.

She couldn't bear the worry and uncertainty anymore.

Pushing the back door that led to the living room open with a loud thud, she found Bucky by the kitchen area, and Sam by the couch, watching the afternoon news. "I need to tell you guys something."

Bucky perked up at that, pulling himself away from his moping state to get back up on his feet, and walk towards the couch where Natasha approached. "She disabled her own tracker. Tony has no idea where she is, or what she's doing."

"Shit, how are we supposed to find her, then?" Sam slowly got up from where he was seated in worry. But before any of them could say anything else, a loud explosion sound snatched their attention and brought it to the screen.

"Earlier this morning, a lab explosion took place in a Hong Kong biochemistry lab, for reasons unknown. Public CCTV footage shows two unidentified individuals breaking into the building only ten minutes before the blast."

"Isn't that-"

"Damn it," Natasha whispered. "God fucking damn it, Barton."

No matter how fast the Quinjet was, Bucky felt like they couldn't get there quick enough. His heart was basically beating through his ribs, brain pumping adrenaline into every single bit of his veins as he watched the jet decrease altitude. The news didn't even provide the number of casualties, and the fact that he wasn't sure if you made it out of there alive or not was eating him alive.

The fact that he didn't get to make things right with you beforehand was outright torture.

The jet landed on a clearing by the woods, pretty close to the remote building in which the explosion took place. Bucky's strut seemed like it was made out of steel, as if nothing in this world could even attempt to stop him as he walked in front, Natasha and Sam following close behind. It had been at least twenty hours since the blast, and if you were dead, you'd be identified, right?

The news of your passing would be all over the world by now, right?

"I know where they might be hiding," Natasha spoke up, a bit breathless from having to catch up with Bucky's fast steps. "Clint has a hideout apartment, not too far from here."

"Fuck!" your loud cry was enough to land a grimace on Clint's face, as he let out soft shushes, trying his best to wrap your injuries up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he mumbled, taping down the bandage wrapped around your thigh before giving it a slight pat. "Just a contusion. I know it hurts but you could have it much worse."

"I know, but it still hurts, you idiot!"

"And whose fault is that? Not mine!"

Letting your head fall back on the cushion with a thud, you let out a slight groan. "How's the agent?"

"Called somebody to pick him up," he sighed, pulling himself up from the floor to sit next to your laid out figure. "I genuinely didn't know that they had explosives laid out through the building. Some sort of eradication. Must've been big, whatever they were hiding."

"Couldn't really keep it quiet, huh?"

"Unfortunately," he chuckled. "But we saved him, at least. Probably going to get an earful from Tony when he finds out… But you did a good job. Thanks for coming."

"Didn't have anything better to do," a grin made its way to your lips. "Don't even wanna go back, if I'm being honest."

A frown took over his features. "Did something happen?" and he continued, when your only response was a slight nod. "Bucky?"

"That easy to guess, huh?"

"Nothing else has an impact on you," a soft chuckle followed. "It'll be fine. You two- you shouldn't lose each other. Not over anything."

"I don't know if I can make sure of that anymore, Clint."

"Look, I'm saying this from a man's point of view," he repositioned himself on where he was seated, now completely facing you. "And I don't ever want you to think that I'm sexist or something, but, um… We're different. In a bad way- we're not… Complicated like your kind."

"My kind? Okay, now that's-"

"No, shut up, you know what I mean," he laughed. "Every single woman that I had the pleasure of meeting knew what they wanted. Maybe it was a bit rough around the edges, maybe it was just a scaffolding but there was a plan. There was an… expectation of how things are supposed to go, you know?"

A short silence followed. "And because of that scaffolding, you folks don't freak out as much as we do. And when you do, you still make sense. We don't. We freak out over the smallest inconvenience and everything goes shit because we don't know how to restructure our own plans that quickly. We take longer to adapt. Because we're a bit more primitive, does that make sense?"

You smiled at him, earnestly. "That's… vague, but it makes perfect sense. Thanks."

His hand found yours then, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry about it."

That night, Clint woke up to footsteps across the apartment. He was sleeping on the armchair by the side of the bedroom, making sure that you were safe on his bed since you had to take a pill or two to manage the pain and fall asleep quicker.

Quickly getting up to his feet, he grabbed the pistol he placed on your nightstand earlier, slowly pulling the door open- only to find Natasha, with a gun in her hand, seemingly relieved to see Clint.

Clint brought his finger up to his lips, signaling the room as to let her know that you were asleep. "What are you doing here?" he whispered.

"That was a sloppy op, don't you think?" Natasha whispered back, teasing. "Gotta warn you, Barnes will be here in a couple of minutes and he's going to be mad, Clint."

"Let him be," he sighed. "She's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the front door got pushed open, revealing a worried and seething Bucky and an apologetic Sam following suit, shutting the door slowly after the other. "Where is she?"

"She's in the bedroom-" Clint stepped in front of the door, shutting and guarding it. "She's exhausted. Be quiet."

"Why the fuck is she with you?"

"Hey, not like I kidnapped her, alright?" Clint rolled his eyes, still speaking as quietly as he could. "I needed her help and I couldn't call anybody else. I'm sorry I kept your girlfriend away from you for literally two days, Barnes."

Bucky took a step back, heaving a deep sigh. He was angry, angry at you, angry at Clint, angry at himself… Yet he didn't know where to direct that anger. He didn't know how to calm this feeling down. "Why didn't she tell anybody? Not even Tony- what the hell did you make her do that she felt like she needed to hide from everyone?"

A scoff left Natasha. "Bucky, stop making assumptions."

"No- you know what?" Bucky was getting louder by the second, and nobody in the room had the guts to shush him down. "My girl doesn't hide anything from me, ever. I need to know what was so important that she had to turn her tracker off and you had to lead her into a building full of explosives."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that the lab would explode?!"

"You were supposed to make sure that it's-"

"Bucky?" your frowning, sleepy figure appeared by the door that everyone was too busy watching the argument to notice opening. Bucky's gaze visibly softened when he saw you, tense shoulders relaxing before Clint stepped out of the way and with a few steps, he approached you to pull you into his embrace.

You didn't hug him back at first- instead sending a confused look to the rest, to which Sam shrugged as a response. "Are you okay?"

"No, are you okay?" he asked, pulling away to get a good look at your figure. A few cuts and the bandage by your thigh was visible as you were just wearing one of Clint's old shirts and underwear. "Are you okay?" he asked again, tone more stern this time.

"I'm fine," you pushed his hands off of you. "Why the fuck were you yelling at Clint?"

"Yeah, alright, have that conversation without us," Clint sighed, pushing the two of you into the bedroom gently before offering you a small wave and shutting the door, to give you some privacy.

Bucky sighed before looking at you again, wanting so bad to just cup your cheeks and leave kisses all over your face- but he knew he fucked up, and you were mad. "I was worried about you. You left without a word, and when I heard that your tracker was off-"

"I don't owe anyone any explanation." your tone was harsh. "And I'm sorry if I thought that you wouldn't give a shit, Bucky. You made it pretty obvious that you wanted me to leave you alone."

"I never said that," he ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to stay calm and work this out- but you were almost as stubborn as him, if not more. "I never- I care about you, alright? You're my girlfriend, and you should've told me where you were going."

You shook your head to both sides in disbelief. "You're not entitled to that."

"Y/N-"

"No, you're seriously not entitled to knowing anything about me. Not when you have the audacity to treat me like I'm nothing more than an absolute stranger, and then to not even make an effort to talk to me for a whole week."

"I freaked out, alright?!" he sighed. "I was fucking terrified because- because of you!"

"How the hell is that my fault?!"

"It's your fault! You're the one who made me fall in love with you!" he was loud, and you got cryptically quiet.

He never dropped the L-word before.

"It's your fucking fault because I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop worrying about you, I can't stop making everything about you and it's putting everyone in danger!" you were biting back a smile now, as he kept ranting. "Including you! I can't- do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you and not just burst into tears because oh my fucking God, you're the love of my life and-"

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, your hands cupping his face. He was shocked at first, unable to comprehend the sudden switch from arguing to kissing, but he wasn't going to complain. Wrapping his arms around your body delicately, he deepened the kiss, exhaling softly against your mouth when your fingers massaged the nape of his neck.

"You're such a fucking idiot," you whispered against his lips. "You're like, the dumbest person I've ever met. Your IQ is so low that-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry. I genuinely am. I'm sorry for making you feel like I don't love you- because I do, I love you so much that it's physically painful."

"I thought you were tougher than that, Bucky."

"I'm just a coward, honey." with a shrug, he pulled you closer to his embrace. "I'm just a fucking coward, nothing more. But you know what? Seeing you so angry at me, telling me that I don't deserve to know anything about you- that hurt more. I guess I- I really can't be without you."

"I can't be without you either," you sighed. "I've been so cranky, just ask Clint."

"Oh, I'm still kicking his ass."

"No, Buck," a soft giggle left your lips. "He actually plays a grand part in me forgiving you. And he's one of my favorite people in this whole world, so, I won't hesitate to punch you if you ever yell at him again."

"In that case, I'm thanking him. And kicking his ass in my head."

[kimbapisnotsushi]

As far as public bathrooms go, the one at Ocean’s Edge isn’t all that bad for throwing yourself a pity party in.

The sinks are all sleek and modern-looking, with gold faucets and polished stone basins. Large oval mirrors hang above them, and—true to the club’s name—little neon fish swim all over the navy-blue walls. [Speakers somewhere in the ceiling play the lulling sounds of waves rolling against the shore.] There’s even an air freshener plugged into the corner that puffs out coconut-scented mist every ten minutes[, so that you can truly feel like you’re in a tropical paradise while throwing up from however many drinks it takes to make you forget about a shitty day.]

The black stall isn’t exactly roomy, but Morisuke has just enough space to stretch out his legs while he perches on the edge of the toilet, chewing his bottom lip as he stares at his phone. The screen is bright in the bathroom’s dim lighting and draws all of Morisuke’s attention like a moth to a flame. 

Please, reads the last message. It had been two weeks since then. Kuroo, talk to me. What did I do?

Kuroo never responded. Rereading the conversation makes Morisuke feel like he’s dragging the claw of a hammer across his heart, but he keeps scrolling farther and farther back. 

Let’s end it, Kuroo had written. This didn’t really mean anything, after all. I have better things I could do with my time.

Six months. Six fucking months, and none of it meant anything, apparently. Not the late nights they stayed up to make fun of inaccurate sci-fi series, or the times they met early at the cafe for breakfast because it was their only chance to get together for the day. Not even the time Kuroo opened up about his mother, his gaze distant, and Morisuke had held his hand to anchor him to what was real and here and whole. He still remembers that soft smile Kuroo had given him after, the way they'd curled up on the couch like two puzzle pieces slotting together. Morisuke had offered him tea, hot chocolate, whatever he needed. Kuroo just laughed and kissed his temple.

All I need is you, he had said. You're perfect, Yakkun. i couldn't ask for anything more.

And then not even a week later, Morisuke was getting dumped over text.

"Stupid," he says out loud now. “Dumbass. Idiot. Why the fuck did I ever fall for him?”

The bathroom door creaks open, letting noise from the club spill in, but Morisuke doesn’t pay it any mind until he hears a familiar voice calling out his name. 

“Morisuke? Are you here?”

“No,” Morisuke grumbles. His voice echoes off the bathroom walls. “Go away.”

“You made me promise to stop you before you do anything stupid.” Footsteps fall closer until they pause right outside Morisuke’s stall. Damn Sugawara Koushi and his unwavering loyalty—he’d probably break in if he had to. “Are you planning on doing anything stupid?”

Morisuke unlocks the stall door and lets it swing open. He glares at Koushi, who just smiles back at him. It’s a hot summer night and they’d been surrounded by heated bodies on the dance floor, but Koushi still looks totally put together. Meanwhile, Morisuke is sweating through his socks and the back of his neck feels way too warm.

So, yeah, he’d needed a break. It’s not like he came to the restroom just to feel sorry for himself. 

“You had me worried,” Koushi says. “The last time I saw you, you were downing your seventh shot. And that was after the two drinks you already had.”

Was it really? Morisuke hadn’t been keeping track. He’d just asked for something strong. And again. And again. And then for one more, perhaps two or three times. Maybe five. 

Whatever. Morisuke is feeling perfectly fine. His head is a little foggy, sure, but he’s fine. He can totally think this through. 

“I wanna text him.”

Koushi makes a choked sound. “Oh, no. You are very drunk, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” Morisuke frowns at his phone. “He never told me why. I want to know that much, at least.”

The door to the stall next to Morisuke’s flies open with a bang, and he and Koushi jump. A body wedges itself between them: tall and broad-shouldered, with artfully-tousled chestnut hair, glasses framing brown-sugar eyes, and a jawline that could cut through steel. Hot, but not Morisuke’s type.

Kuroo had been Morisuke’s type.

-- an excerpt from don't text your ex, a kuroyaku exes-to-lovers fic where yaku gets unsolicited advice from a stranger in the club bathroom

[ofdemonsandangels]

A Masterlist of My Favorite GriffGuts fics Part 2

Well hello again! We're coming up on two years since my last GriffGuts fic rec masterlist and so many amazing fics have come out since then! I'm really happy that the original list got so much love, I really can't wait to share more of my favorites with you all, both new or looked over from before <3

One-Shots

White Hawk Down by bishounenjump

Summary:

Sometimes Guts forgets that Griffith is just a man. A man with a body.

My comments:

A missing scene from canon that we all wish could have happened

Snowmelt by bthump

Summary:

Once again, Griffith acts impulsively when it comes to Guts. AU where Griffith doesn't find out that Guts left the Hawks until after he's gone.

My comments:

The way I was waiting for two whole years for another bthump fic after Refraction lmao. This fic is one of those fics that you pull up to cope with after you remember what happened in canon.

What would happen if the duel in the snow never happened but Griffith still chased after Guts to bring him back? Find out in 10.2k words of peak writing. In bthump we trust (￣^￣)ゞ

Late Night Reverie by bishounenjump

Summary:

"He won’t hesitate to admit that he loves being king. No blustering nobleman can take that from him.

And yet, on nights like this, when he can drink in the broad expanse of his commander — his dark brow and gentle gaze and absurdly strong physique — he knows that some dreams do occasionally obscure others."

My comments:

A very heartwarming glimpse into a future that Guts and Griffith could've had. I feel all warm inside whenever I reread this fic

we're not in love, we share no stories by Alyss_Baskerville

Summary:

Though the gash on Guts’ shoulder heals, his eyes now skip right past Griffith.

My comments:

Whereas the previous fic rec was a sweet look into a future that never was, this fic is a painful one. Holy hell did I feel like someone had carved my heart out of my chest when I had finished the final line. It reminds me a lot of the film, Atonement, so if you've seen the film, you can take a lot more away from this fic.

In the Absence of Light by Ghidorahs_Child

Summary:

Schierke aches for him, for the happiness he was denied, for the love he has lost.

My comments:

Guts and Schierke share their own Corridor of Dreams moments and it's just as bittersweet as you think it is

A Dreamless Sleep by Queenbananya

Summary:

“I’ve killed children for you,” Guts said, lying next to Griffith on a patch of grass. He peered up at the stars and remembered the kid’s face, the hand that reached out to him helplessly as the last trace of life faded from his eyes.

Or, Guts seeks comfort from Griffith, months after he's killed Adonis.

My comments:

Griffith comforting Guts as he deals with the trauma of killing Adonis is something we all desperately wanted at some point

That Dawn in the Snow by Nefastum

Summary:

He wondered now if Griffith even remembered there were others around him, or if he had completely shut them out. Casca and Judeau were staring in uncertainty, and not far back up the road it was easy to see Rickert, Corkus, and Pippin in earshot of most of their conversation. Griffith didn’t falter, though. It was like all he could see was Guts, and perhaps they’d have to find an excuse for his vulnerability later for the others. Guts could sympathize, though. The feeling was mutual.

My comments:

You can never go wrong with a duel in the snow au, and this fic is no different. The characterization of Griffith here is really great too and probably one of my favorite takes of him for this scene in particular

This Fleeting Dream by Queenbananya

Summary:

"To me... they are not friends. A friend is someone that is my equal."

Perhaps it was the way his thoughts had strayed in that direction, or simply how attuned he was to the movements of his soldiers. His eyes could always find him. Guts stood there, listening. And in his eyes, there was heartbreak.

Or, Griffith catches Guts listening in his famous fountain conversation with Charlotte and follows after him. Essentially, an exploration of his character and feelings for Guts.

My comments:

A very interesting take on a "Griffith clearing everything up with Guts after he finds out he overheard his dream speech at the fountain" au. Equal parts fluff and equal parts angst

Forever Facade by TheriOlis

Summary:

Slan has come to see what manner of flower grows atop the bones buried beneath Griffith's garden.

My comments:

The GriffGuts in this fic is mild but as the resident Slan thirster, I need you all to read this because it's really fucking good. NeoGriff being egged on by Slan for nearly 2k words? Yes, YEs, YES

Recoil and Grace by aloveleyburn

Summary:

Their fingers wind together in the darkness. Outside there is that ever-present chirping of birds and insects – the music of those dark hours, calming as cool water. Outside some car alarm goes off in the empty streets, and on the bedside table, clock reads 2:47am.

My comments:

There are so many words that I could use to describe this fic, but I think I'll just settle on 'quintessential'. I can't remember the last time I was so enthralled by a fic, so glued to my screen and absorbing every single word in front of me. The way that Ariel blends the two storylines into one in such a flawless manner reminds me of a weaver stitching together two scenes in a tapestry. Each thread is connected in a way that matters.

If there's one fic you walk away with from this list, I hope that this is the fic.

Property by starry_dynamo

Summary:

“I’ve wanted you since the moment we met, and if the reason you never returned my advances was that you felt tainted by that scum from your past, I will carve him from your memory. You are not his. You belong to me, and I want your body to never forget.”

Griffith learns why Guts has a problem with intimacy. Guts learns he has another purpose.

My comments:

BDSM to cope with trauma. That's it. It's nice and sweet and hot at the same time.

Geleotto fu il Libro by Ghidorahs_child

Summary:

"I have nightmares of you leaving me."

My comments:

GriffGuts gets ready for bed together! Featuring book talk, insecurities, and lots of domestic fluff

Steel Groove by Maplekites

Summary:

The Hawks enjoy celebrating anything they can.

My comments:

GriffGuts, my dancing queens

Completed Multi-Chapter Fics

When Night Comes Down by alovelyburn

Summary:

"If you stand far enough outside the tapestry, you can see the many threads and paths unwalked. The points of change can be so tiny they go unnoticed at the time... though the ripples travel for centuries and more, into eternity. Yet, in the end, all paths lead to one path. There may be deviations, yes, yet still we dance that same dance, with the steps assigned to us by fate. It is inevitable. One must die to resurrect. One must fall to rise."

My comments:

This fic is my Roman Empire. If Apostle!Guts is your thing, this fic is the perfect fic for you.

Ongoing Multi-Chapter Fics

our castle was always made of sand by meereens

Summary:

His life was easy to understand. Mother liked to tell him stories, wrapped up in their canopy bed with warmth crackling in her words. He was born from a real-life fairytale, everyone knew it, from a dashing knight’s love for a simple princess.

Queen Charlotte and King Griffith's young son uncovers something he was not meant to know.

My comments:

This is THEE GriffGuts kid fic (and the only one to my knowledge too haha). It's the perfect "Griffith gets guy and the throne" au and really explores what GriffGuts would look like from a child's perspective, specifically Griffith's son's perspective. I know that kid fics can be annoying with the way some people write kids but trust me, William Leopold Guts Charles Wyndham is the cutest little guy ever and I would lay down my life for him.

Fic Series

Sehnsucht by SeaDragons (SimpleNefelibata)

My comments:

GriffGuts: Hurt no Comfort the Series

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Ahhh it’s been so long since I’ve been on here n I saw ur writing for PEETA?! I’m currently rereading the series n On Mockingjay and want to cry everytime he’s mentioned. Anywhoo can I request telling Peeta ur pregnant (obviously after the war is won and all that) in honor of baby #2 I’m due with in a October?<3

GIIIIIRL CONGRADU-FUCKING-LATIONS!!!!! I'm so so so happy for you, so so so so so happy omg. I hope this is exactly what you wanted it to be.

I also wanna reread all the books before the next Hunger Games movie comes out, so excited for that one.

There's a haze across the lake outside our house, steam rising up from the warmer water as dusk settles upon the surrounding acreage. The sky is a pale orange, like Peeta's favorite color, and the stars are already out, speckling across bare sky like freckles.

My hand wanders down to my belly, though it's not growing yet, I know what's growing in there as I think to myself now, sitting on the edge of the peer as I take a deep breath in, filling my babies lungs with the most genuine of oxygen.

He doesn't know yet, I didn't want to tell him until he finally had a break from all the stress he's been under the last few years, finally bridging the gap of his therapy and coming up perfectly clean from all the capitals torture.

He's finally him again.

"Hey, there you are." Peeta's voice behind me makes me smile to myself, realizing this is a better time than never to finally rip the bandaid off and tell him our big secret. "I've been looking for you."

"I'm right here. Where I always am." I smile up at him and I watch his eyes trail over me as he sits down beside me, legs swinging off the dock beside mine. It's so still, everything is quiet except for the frogs singing their song.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, pressing a kiss to the side of my head while he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. He smells like the pastries he was just working on inside, warm hazelnut and caramel wafting all the way from the open kitchen window to the pier.

"I've never been better." I grin, looking up at him with heart eyes, my whole body buzzing with love as I stare up at him through my lashes.

"What's got you so happy?" He asks, brushing some hair from my face as his thumb brushes against my bottom lip and I giggle giddily, giving his knee a gentle squeeze.

"I have a secret."

"Oh yeah? Can I know what it is?" He asks with a silly smile, eyes flickering from mine, all the way down to my lips.

"I'm nervous," I say through a small, worried smile and his expression softens to something so wholesome, so caring as he worriedly looks across my expression.

"Don't be nervous. It's me."

There's a pregnant (pun intended) pause between us as I think of how to bring this up in a way that's not just blurting out 'you knocked me up', even though that would probably make him laugh. My mind wracks the conversations we've had about having babies, making a family, and he's never given me one ounce of fear that he may not want it with me.

"You always wanted to have babies right?" He pauses, brows furrowing together as he gives me a slow, drawn-out nod.

"It was always the plan after I was de-conditioned... right?" He asks, leaning a little away from me so he can get a good look at me and for a moment I think that he's connecting the dots in his head.

"Right." I huff, giving him a bright smile. "So..."

"Oh my god." His realization is sudden, eyes widening and his smile spreading across his lips as quickly as the thought comes into his head. "Really?" He asks and I giggle, head tossing back in laughter as Peeta grabs my shoulders and shakes me. "You're joking? You can't mess with someone like this-"

"I'm pregnant." I squeal and he throws his arms around me, tugging me to his chest as a small cry escapes him and suddenly, all of the pain of the last few years closes like a book just as another one opens.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

For the song fic event!

Dancing with Your Ghost (Sasha Alex Sloan) with YOU KNOW WHO—Gojo Satoru, of course!—angst/mcd?

I don't really do x reader stuff, but I thought this was a cool idea so I figured why not? 😊✨️

WC: 1.1k

CW: jjk chapter 236 spoilers, mcd, angst, hurt/no comfort, grief, unhealthy coping

Note: aww, thank you so much for sending one in!! this hurt, but omg did i get in my feels writing it. so excited to be posting the first fic for this event!!

listen to this song while reading

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

It was past midnight, well into the wee hours of the morning when you woke with a start. Reaching over, you patted the other side of the bed searching for something that would never be there. Instead of the warm body you expected, you made contact with smooth, cool sheets, the surprise jolting you back into reality. 

Remembering that no one was there, you rolled out of bed suddenly unable to bear being in it alone. Sliding your feet into slippers and wrapping a robe around your body you head to the kitchen, the soft sound of your slippers against the hardwood the only sound in the otherwise silent apartment.

Part of you wondered if it would always be like this. If you would spend the rest of your life always searching for something that wasn’t with you. Another part of you knew that you would.

Baby, why'd you go away? I'm still your girl

Knowing you weren’t going to go back to sleep you sighed and put the kettle on for some tea. As you waited for the water to boil you wrapped your arms around yourself and leaned back against the counter. The silence filling your apartment was deafening and the stillness made you uneasy. 

Taking a deep breath you sat down at the counter, staring into space as you allowed yourself to get lost in your thoughts. You don’t know how long you sat there before the shill whistle of the kettle knocked you out of your stupor. You jumped a little, the sound startling you. Moving to stand, it was only then you noticed you were crying. Your fingers reached up and brushed your cheek, and you examined the drops of water on them a little mystified. Deciding that only sleeping four hours in the last week was finally getting to you, you dried your face and turned the stove off. 

Opening the pantry to grab a tea bag, an expired box of kikufuku mochi caught your eye. Inevitably, your thoughts were drawn to him, and a fresh wave of grief hit you. Frantically, you fumbled with the box, hurriedly extracting a tea bag and slamming the pantry door shut a little too violently. The handle of the ceramic mug was cool in your hand as you dunked your tea bag and moved to sit on your couch.

You sank into the soft cushions, unable to stop yourself from grabbing your phone and opening your text chain with him. Despite knowing it was unhealthy, you often found yourself rereading the messages you sent to him that fateful night he hadn’t returned home. The messages get increasingly more panicked with each one, ending with a final “I hope it was painless. I hope you know how much I love you. I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”

Never got the chance to say a last goodbye. 

I gotta move on, but it hurts to try.

Swallowing a sob you shut your phone off and hurl it across the room. You need to move on. You know that. Never leaving your house, pushing your friends away, not sleeping, obsessing over the past, you knew it wasn’t good for you.

Day after day, voicemails and texts poured in from concerned friends and family telling you that you were self-destructing. That this wasn’t what he would have wanted for you. That he would have wanted you to move on. To live.

You know that. You know. But knowing and being able to were two very different things. How were you supposed to move on when everything reminds you of him? When you can’t sleep without his warmth.

Aside from that, your faith in others has been permanently shattered. He had promised you that he would always come back, that he would win. And you had believed him because he was the strongest. And if you couldn’t believe him then who could you? But then he had gone and left you far behind. No. You could never open your heart again. You can’t trust anyone to not leave you like he did.

How do I love? How do I love again?

How do I trust? How do I trust again?

But you were okay with being alone for the rest of your life. Even if the loneliness made it impossible to sleep. Even if his absence wrapped around your throat cutting off your air. You were okay. You didn’t need anyone else. You had your home filled with his belongings and you had yourself. That’s all that mattered.

I stay up all night, tell myself I’m alright

At least that’s what you told yourself. In reality every reminder of him was like a stab to the heart. And maybe you were a masochist because you refused to remove the traces of him from your apartment. Sitting on the sofa you could still see him dancing around the coffee table, hear his laughter fill the air. And sometimes when you closed his eyes and inhaled his scent that still lingered in the air it was like he was still next to you, his voice ringing in your ears.

Baby you’re just harder to see than most

Suddenly the silence in the living room was suffocating. Without the joy and love that used to reside in it, the room felt oppressive. Retrieving your phone from where you had flung it you hastily, you connected to your apartment’s bluetooth and clicked play on the first playlist that popped up in your feed. Some of the stress left your body when a soft dreamy song began to seep from the walls, only to return when you realized what playlist you had accidentally put on. 

Of course you accidentally played the playlist he made for you for your two year anniversary. The playlist of all the songs that reminded him of you. Going to change the playlist you froze when you accidentally hit skip and heard the song that began playing.

It was your song. The song you used to listen to together on quiet evenings. The song that the two of you slow danced to in this very living room. The song you knew all the lyrics to. Slowly, you put your phone down, leaning back and closing your eyes as the music swept over you.

I put the record on, wait ‘til I hear our song

And with the song on repeat, you sat there until the first light of day struck your face, the ghost of Gojo Satoru slow dancing around you. 

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost

[amiharana]

ok I was reading thru your tattoo/flower shop au and I had to share the brainrot.

I hc revali as indigenous (particularly great plains native american) and oh man, what if at some point he very hesitantly brings up with link that he wants to get facial tattoos or something similar that's significant to him but he's nervous?? And Link goes out of his way to learn traditional stick-n-poke techniques so he can be the one to give revali his tattoos?? And it's like super sweet and meaningful for them both and Link feels honored that revali trusts him enough to ask? (and also revali is scared shitless and Link has to stop several times so he doesnt mess up and hurt revali more than it typically would)

like what if though???

ahem (taps mic) Hello can anyone hear me. i haven't written a tumblr ask in ages i feel ancient

first of all, i'm glad to hear that you still think of my tattoo/flower shop au haha it's been way over a year now since i wrote it. i still very much appreciate everyone who drew art for it 🫶 i've had a few passing thoughts about writing it into an actual proper multi-chaptered fic but i've been busy wrestling with school, work, and my personal demons for the past year that it's been quite difficult to even think about writing anything. thank you to anyone who's still here; i appreciate you a lot 🤍

i love the hc of revali as indigenous and i think it really fits in with the presence of the rito people as we're introduced to in the games, but i won't touch on that too much since i'm not indigenous/well-versed in indigenous culture. you know what i Am well-versed in though? these gay ass mfs

i had to reread my own au post for this Lord it's been too long, i wrote back then that i thought of revali as someone who isn't too fond of tattoos and doesn't have a great pain tolerance for them, and i still believe in that LOL. mixing that in with a hc where revali is indigenous is quite interesting, because i would assume that tattoos are an important/frequently appearing aspect of the culture? revali's parents have also passed in this au and he's alone with no family running the shop, so perhaps revali was estranged from his indigenous culture while growing up/at some point and became interested in trying to connect with it as an adult. maybe he came across the topic of traditional tattoos and after researching about it, he became interested in getting one but again because of his low pain tolerance, he thought it probably may never happen. well...

during one of their shared lunch breaks perhaps at a new cafe that's opened up on tabantha street, revali absentmindedly mentions his family and the tattoos. link immediately looks up at him from his food, those lovely blue eyes searching his face curiously.

"traditional tattoos?" he says, cocking his head at revali. revali blinks. well, of course link would have interest in the topic since he was a fellow tattoo artist himself, but the way he was looking at revali was...

"well yes," revali continues. "i suppose i haven't really talked to you much about myself personally, have i? i'm an indigenous hyrulean and my blood is descended from the rito tribe, but i'm not well-versed in my own culture." he mumbles the last few words, looking down at his coffee. "my parents and i lived on reservation land until i was 5 and then we moved away to a bigger city for work. there weren't many other rito there and so i didn't grow up with a lot of other indigenous folk. i don't know much about my family or my culture because of it, and even after my parents passed, it's never come up until now." revali glances back at link, who is now watching him with rapt attention. he looks away again, his cheeks beginning to warm. "i thought it would be nice to connect with my culture by getting a traditional tattoo of the rito tribe, perhaps something small so i can handle it. though, i wouldn't be able to travel to the reservation to find a traditional tattooist because of the shop and neither do i know of any tattoo artists nearby that could do it..."

"i'll do it," link says suddenly. revali looks at him again and blinks. link's eyes are bright and wide, blazing with determination. he's still holding his sandwich in his hands.

"i-i couldn't ask that of you," revali says, heart skipping a beat. "you'd likely have to learn an entire new and unfamiliar technique, and—"

"i'll do it," link insists, placing the sandwich down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his eyes are still trained on revali, just as insistent as his mouth is. revali swallows.

"use a napkin, please," he mutters, passing link one. the blond takes it and grins at him. "if it's something that you greatly desire to do... i will assist you in offering as much information as i can. i... appreciate it, link." i appreciate you, he thinks but the words get stuck in his throat. link's smile only grows.

thinking about link who researches rito tribal tattoos for a few weeks and reporting and discussing his findings with revali during their mon/wed lunch breaks. thinking about link who spends countless nights staying up compiling everything he finds into a document, the different types of tribal tattoos and their meanings, researching the materials and tools needed for traditional tattoos, sketching different tribal symbols endlessly for the perfect one for revali in between tattoo sessions with other clients, thinking about where on revali's body it would go, thinking about revali's warm skin under his hands... let's keep it PG link 🫡

the day finally arrives when link introduces the tattoo sketches to revali. link probably shows him a few ideas of a small rito symbol on his fingers, wrist, deltoid, ankle, and even ribs. HOWEVER. i really like the idea of the winged rito symbol across the back of revali's shoulders to represent his wings in canon? so what if. link who sketched a drawing of revali's back muscles with the winged rito symbol and he doesn't mean to show it to revali since it's a much bigger tattoo than revali wanted, but revali happens upon it anyway while scrolling through the sketches on link's ipad.

"what's this one?" revali says pointing at it.

link glances over at the screen and flushes. "oh, i didn't mean for you to see this one," he murmurs. he uses two fingers to zoom in on the image slightly. "i just had an idea for this particular symbol, so i sketched it out because i thought it'd look nice. i know you wanted a smaller one, so we can just focus on the first sketches—"

"it's beautiful," revali cuts him off, voice soft and still looking at the winged sketch. "how much do back tattoos hurt?" and link is jaw dropped, staring at him with hearts in his eyes LMFAOOOOOOOO

thinking about link who actually reaches out to a traditional tattooist from revali's tribe and asks if he can mentor link so he can learn their technique??? maybe link and revali who end up traveling to the reservation together so revali can visit and link can learn directly from the tattooist??? revalink road trip and sharing a bed trope??? link would probably only take a week tops to learn the technique since he's like a prodigal artist and the tattooist is impressed. also revali getting to spend time with and learn more about his culture from others from the tribe who live there 🥺

if revali does get the winged rito symbol tattoo on his back, he probably wouldn't get it as a solid color, maybe link would incorporate more tribal lineart into it like the totk zonai imagery? i've never gotten a tattoo so i don't know if back tattoos or the style of solid color tattoos would hurt, but regardless, link would make revali as comfortable as he can throughout all the sessions 🥺🥺🥺

originally when i read this ask and you mentioned facial tattoos, i thought about link gently holding revali's jaw between his pointer finger and thumb to readjust the positioning of his face in the midst of tattooing him, and revali sucking in a breath at the contact WAHHHH but with the direction i took with this post, i also thought about link laying a flat palm between revali's shoulder muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin and tracing his shoulder blades with a featherlight touch and revali getting flustered but muttering, "are you going to keep me in suspense?"

link traces a line down revali's spine. "are you sure you want to get this tattoo?" he murmurs. "we can still do the smaller ones instead if you want. i know how you feel about it, with your pain tolerance and all."

revali snorts, trying to mask his nervousness. "i've already made up my mind. it's a beautiful piece that you put a lot of thought into and i'm not backing out now. besides..." revali's voice lowers into a mumble. "i wouldn't have gone through with it if it was anyone else. i trust you."

link's cheeks pinked in the sweet way they do when revali catches him off-guard, but he can't take it back. he doesn't want to take it back, because it's true; revali trusts link for this with everything he has.

hhh . AHHHH . i just think. yeagh.