#and yes he does indeed carry around his favorites like a dog to random places in the apartment

[cloudywithachanceofsephiroth]

The dog and his favorite toy #7

[gtseven7]

My Seven Idols

this is the picture mentioned in the story

Summary:

Got7 as highschoolers as they deal with graduation and college at the same time starting up their own Youtube channel as idols. 

A/N:

So this is chapter 1. Really, I wasnt supposed to write this thing but it has been bugging me for months and I just cant shake it off okay? I tried resisting thinking, dude you're on your way to the juicy parts of Seven Princes. But whelp I lost a battle within myself and wrote this anyway. I hope you guys like it!

masterlist

//prev

1

The click-clacking of the keyboard echoed in the room as Y/N furiously typed the remaining subtitle of the video she had been editing the last few nights. Hitting the export button, the brunette could finally exhale and relax. The beach aesthetic video she had been working on was now in the process of being complete. She just has to wait till it loads to a hundred and her hard work will pay off. Smiling to herself, she minimized the editing software and opened up her InstaBook. She scrolled leisurely, seeing the pictures of her peers and some from her photographer idols. Y/N was examining an aesthetic cityscape picture from one of her favorite photo blogs, Def, when her notification alerted her of a great news. Ding! And the words that popped up from the right corner of her screen made her screech. As it was almost midnight, she had to restrain herself and not wake her parents. But she can’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. She quickly clicked the pop up. It said: pjy_01 updated his profile picture. When the picture loaded, Y/N's jaw almost unhinged. Park Jinyoung a.k.a. Mr. Student Council President rarely posts a picture of himself. His feed was usually just books, food and random sceneries. He did have few self-taken pictures and Y/N was happy with it (some of them are really just bad quality but she’ll take it) but this one? This one’s just beautiful, amazing, gift from the heavens. He was sitting on a comfy white couch, staring directly at the camera with puppy eyes. His white button up was slightly unbuttoned(!!) as he wore an innocent face and a cute peace sign as a cherry on top. Y/N was just about to scream and jump around. But before that, she made sure to save the picture in her Jinyoung Stash folder. “Woah. What is this Jinyoung? You should always post things like this. I’ll be a happy woman.” She sighed dreamily, staring at her screen but missed the notification of her software that finished exporting her video. 

Y/N was rudely interrupted when her phone suddenly rang. Not even looking at the caller id, she answered the call with an annoyed tone. “What?” No one would be phoning her at this time other than her best friend. “Yo chill out Y/N.” Youngjae laughed at the other end, knowing he most likely disturbed her from her hobby. Which isn’t entirely false, he just didn’t know that the hobby at the moment was staring at their president and not videography. ”It’s midnight Youngjae, what do you need?” She elicited another hearty laugh from the guy. Any other circumstance, she’ll laugh along since his laugh is contagious but this time was not it. “Well?”

“Geez, aren’t you such a joy tonight. I’m just gonna ask if you already finished the essay homework due tomorrow.” 

Blank silence. It was then that Y/N laughed at the ridiculing situation. Homework? Was there ever one? And she voiced it out, still half cheerful and half threatening. Youngjae might be pranking her once again. “The essay homework Mr. Kwon asked us to do. The one about Romeo and Juliet. Don’t tell me you don’t remember?” Youngjae chuckled a little too, thinking that his friend was making fun of him. When the only sound he heard was the bark of his cute dog Coco beside him, Youngjae started to sweat. “You haven’t done a single thing didn’t you?!”

“I think I’m gonna puke. Youngjae-ahh~ What do I do?!” 

Y/N's eyes bugged out, realizing that yes, there is indeed an essay due tomorrow. And it is for Mr. Kwon’s subject, her most feared teacher. Oh how that teacher terrifies her whole being. How could she be so stupid?! “Youngjae!!! What do I do? What do I do?!” Panic was starting to rise from her gut, her heart beating too fast that even midnight coffee can’t do. Add the obvious panic in her bestfriend’s voice on the other end, it made things worse for her. “I don’t know! Uh… I can lend you mine? Just modify some parts. Paraphrase things…”  

“Oh my God Youngjae I love you. You’re the best!!” 

“You owe me one Y/N.” 

“I do, I do. Thanks so much.” 

They bid goodnight to each other, Youngjae promising to pick her up from her house so she won’t be late; she once again praised his goodness before hanging up. And as promised, he sent her his homework, Jinyoung’s picture on her screen forgotten. Y/N once again typed relentlessly through the night. 

“I bet Jinyoung never had a problem like this. Y/N you must do better!”

That motivation fueled her to write the essay about Romeo and Juliet even if she didn’t understand what it was about aside from it being a romance story. Little did the sophomore videographer know, her high pedestaled president sat on his chair under the dim light of his study desk at the same time as her. He was hunched in concentration on the essay he stalled on doing days before it was to be submitted. 

No words flowed, his pen stuck mid-air. “Argh. What the heck is this shit about anyway?” Jinyoung huffed as he crumpled his nth paper and tossed it in the bin beside him. His brain was not cooperating with him that night and it’s just frustrating. Why does he have to explain why the economy of their country is not thriving as it used to? It’s just plain bullshit to be honest. He had mountains of council work the past few days and he wasn’t able to attend few classes including the class he was supposed to write this essay for. This is why he hates skipping, when things like this essay arrive, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t have time to read up everything that’s why he just went straight to bluffing his way out of the conclusion of the paper. The distracting noise of the instrument app on Jaebeom’s phone didn’t help him much either. “You have your own room, your own bed. Why are you always here?” His housemate just shrugged and continued his melody making. It was sounding good to be honest, not that his friend ever made a bad song but the other’s process was just making the writing too difficult for him. “How can I even finish when you distract me like this?”

“One, Jinyoung, it was your fault for not doing it earlier. Two, you are not distracted by my music. You just don’t want to do that stupid paper.” 

And it hit him too well. He’s right. Most times, Jaebeom’s music calms him but this time his brain just straight up refuses to do a thing. His long haired companion exited the app after saving his work. Jaebeom laid down on Jinyoung’s bed. He patted the space beside him, encouraging the other to lie down with him and sleep. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Get some sleep first, you’ve had a harsh week.” 

“Get out of my bed.”

“Hmm…”

And with that, Jaebeom closed his eyes to sleep. He’s not a fast sleeper per se, he’s just waiting for Jinyoung to join him but he didn’t. He opened his eyes just a slit saw the student body president scribbling again with a determined face. 

Few hours after, it was almost three in the morning. Jinyoung has to get up at six to prepare for their eight o’clock class. He doesn’t like not sleeping properly but for the sake of that damned paper, he had to sacrifice. He sighed once again and turned off the lamp. Looking to his right, he saw his friend sleeping peacefully, facing him from the farther half of the bed. Jinyoung shook his head in exasperation. He sat on the unoccupied side and stared at his friend of ten years. His face lax and serene. The nose ring glints under the soft glow of the stars from the window. Jinyoung’s hand inched towards the other’s face, stopping midway. He clenched his fist and brought it back to himself. ‘Ah, I really wanna remove that nose ring so badly.’

Morning came and the sunlight was harsh on Y/N’s face. She finished her essay in time, luckily. She trudged along the hallways of their small house, the only thing that woke her up completely was the smell of fresh bacon being cooked. She quickly ate her breakfast, showered and said goodbye to her parents with a tired smile. The sound of the bell announced the arrival of Youngjae by their door. She opened it and her friend almost screamed bloody murder. “I thought a zombie came out to eat me.” 

“Shut up.”

Youngjae laughed and slung an arm on her shoulders. He ruffled her already messy hair further. “Did you finish the write up?” She gave a gloomy thumb’s up while yawning, earning a giggle from the boy. “Ah seriously, you should take care of your studies more Y/N.” 

“Says you. You were up all night long playing. I can see it on the bags under your eyes.”

“At least I finished my work before doing so, unlike someone I know…”

Y/N clicked her tongue in disapproval but she knows he’s right though. “I got carried away with the good shots I had when me and Yeji went to the beach last week. Aah, I made such a good video last night.” Youngjae smiled at her friend as he watched her walk half asleep. 

Y/N and Youngjae were friends since they were toddlers. With their mothers practically sisters because of their closeness, and their houses are just one backyard away from each other, the two developed a close friendship. Oftentimes they’d be hanging out in their places, playing video games or reading comics. Although when they started to grow up more, they drifted away slightly, having different circles of friends. That didn’t bother the two of them though. They thought that it’s better to have their friendship outside school so that they won’t get sick seeing each other’s faces all the time. With this, they rarely go to school together anymore. Their classmates are in the dark about their closeness as well.  

Youngjae pulled out his phone and scrolled his pictures. He suddenly got excited about showing his bestfriend about his dog’s new outfit he bought recently. “Y/N, Y/N, look at Coco. I bought a new shirt. It’s so cute.” He practically shoved the phone on her eyes but it didn’t matter much to her as she was as excited as him. They practically raised that cute dog together. “Omo! Coco’s so adorable!” They were both bouncing on their steps as they look at the dog’s pictures posing differently with each new clothing. The two of them were cooing. “Ah, Coco is such a joy.” 

"Y/N!” 

They both stopped on their tracks when they heard a familiar voice. It was Yeji, Y/Ns other bestfriend outside Youngjae (he’s still the bestest but Yeji doesn’t know that). She happily waved at her two classmates, a teasing smile forming on her face already. ‘Youngjae and Y/N walking together eh? How interesting!’

Yeji’s appearance was their cue to head apart so Y/N smiled at Youngjae and said goodbye. “See ya later in class!” He just hummed in agreement, seeing as his peers are also in sight. He waved at Yeji and parted with Y/N He walked towards his other friends and greeted them. 

"So Youngjae huh?”

“What about him?”

“Nothing…” Which wasn’t true because now she is sporting a silly smile on her face. Probably imagining things outside of this world and conjuring up different ways how her friend and Youngjae fall in love. Yeji is a fangirl at heart and she just ships everybody. She never imposes it to everyone though, she’s just happy to think about it and keep it to herself. Amazingly enough though, the people she secretly shipped usually ends up together at some point. But Y/N knows her too well and she knows the outlandish things going in her mind right now. “We just happened to meet along the way Yeji.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

The school entrance as it always is, was full of commotion. More so today than usual. Y/N saw a hoard of students lining up the gate with annoyed expressions. ‘Ah, it’s probably President Jinyoung.’ She giggled to herself, happy to see him early in the morning. She’s still a little bit over the moon with his latest picture. “Do I look okay?”, that question snapped Y/N out of her daydream (the picture still lingering at the back of her mind). Yeji took out a small mirror and checked herself out. She combed her hair with her fingers, checked her uniform, straightened everything that doesn’t look ironed out. “You know he just nags at those who violate badly. We’ll never get reprimanded.” Yeji breathed deeply as she puts her mirror back to her bag. “I’m just making sure you know. I don’t want those cold eyes stare at me. It’s scary.” Y/N wanted to protest, ‘Jinyoung’s not scary! It’s a part of his charm!’ but a whine stopped her from doing so. While they were talking, they have pushed inside the crowd to get in and not be late for class. They reached the front where Jinyoung was standing sternly, his mouth thinned in disapproval. “Bhuwakul. How many times do I have to confiscate that earrings of yours?!”

“Why are you so keen on getting these anyway? Would I do better in my tests if I don’t wear them?” The boy, with his id lace yellow (which means he’s a *freshie), was so close to stomping his feet. But Jinyoung was not fazed and just stared at the boy with a piercing stare. “If you wear them, would you do better? No right? So hand them to me. You violated the school dress code. Come get it at my office after school.” 

The people around them were murmuring, Y/N even caught what the others are saying. They think that Jinyoung was being unreasonable and harsh for no reason. ‘Which isn’t true! He just cares about what the students of this school looks like.'  The sophomore turned to glare at the onlookers that defamed their president. ‘Ungrateful fools.’ But she was startled when the tall boy (oh my he’s tall) beside the one named Bhuwakul spoke innocently. “Let him be, he probably just wants to wear your earrings.” Even Yuna, the student council secretary, was shocked at the carefree manner of his dialogue. The president just raised his right eyebrow, “Kim Yugyeom, button up your uniform and tie your necktie properly.” and reprimanded the other freshie without hesitation. Yugyeom grimaced a bit but did what he was told. ‘You should be the one buttoning your clothes last night President huhu’

Despite the commotion at the front gate (which happens almost everyday as Jinyoung loves to greet the student body with “Rule # 5 under the clause of the dress code law….), Y/N and the students of their campus managed to get to their class safely. When they entered their homeroom, Y/N and Yeji was greeted by Ga Young, another friend of theirs. It seemed that she had only arrived a few minutes before them. “Yo! Entrance was pretty hectic today.” 

Yeji made a face and flipped her brow wavy hair away from her face as if she was hassled on their way over. “Ugh, don’t tell us. We had to push our way out earlier.” They both giggled and chattered mindlessly about the events that morning. 

“Don’t you think the foreigner freshie earlier was kind of cute?” Ga Young said dreamily, looking at the ceiling as if he could see his face there. “Oh, that one with the earrings?”

“Yep. We’re blessed with another foreigner beauty.” That’s true, the videographer thought. He’d look good on camera. 

“Yeon Seo isn’t a foreigner.” Y/N countered, debating that her friend’s crush wasn’t exactly from another country. He grew up in their city just like everyone else is. 

“He’s a half-half though.” 

“The tall freshie had a face too.” 

Yeji and Ga Young started to talk about the new eye candy they found. Those two are fans of idols, especially the amateur ones they have in their school. Y/N absentmindedly listened to the two’s gossip. Sometimes she thinks she’s in a webtoon or something. These kinds of things exist on books and comics even dramas that she consumes. Y/N still can’t believe such things are in her reality. Aren’t groups of popular boys with a cheesy group name only in fiction? She wondered if it’s possible that this is not a real world. 

“But you know, I heard rumors that Bhuwakul's gay.” 

That piqued Y/N's interest. Not that there’s any problem with being gay, the rumor just caught her interest. Not many people are brave enough to admit their sexuality in their community so it was pretty interesting. 

“Eh? Who told you?”

“My freshie cousin told me. He said that he’s close with girls and gives fashion advice. He’s on the softer side as well.”

Huh… Y/N thought it was a baseless rumor after all. “That doesn’t mean he’s gay though.”

“That’s true.”

When the talk about the foreign freshie Bhuwakul ended, the other two started to talk about their favorite topic once again. The Five Roses. Y/N was just done with that subject and had heard enough to last her a lifetime. She couldn’t even understand why the girls in their school seemed to be under their spell. In Y/N’s opinion, they aren’t that good looking. Heck, even Mr. Cold Eyes Jinyoung was much more handsome. ‘Especially if they saw last night’s picture. How come they don’t talk about it?!’ 

“Ji Woo looked handsome today too!” 

‘Oh come on, even Youngjae looks better than that guy.’ At the thought of her bestfriend, she turned to glance at him. He seemed to have caught her and gave him those warm sunny smiles that made her heart beat a bit faster. Even if she doesn’t consider her childhood friend as a man, she’s sure that he’s a good looking guy. 

//next

[ddaenggtan]

amae | jhs

amae - japanese. the way you act when you want to depend on another person. relying on someone’s goodwill and love to help you. frequently thought of as wanting to be loved and taken care of.

when someone new moves in next door, you don’t expect to become friends. everyone on your block was friendly, yes, but none of you gave more than a courteous wave when you spotted each other in passing. that changes with jung hoseok; a literature professor with sunlight gleaming out of every pore, who enjoys complex lectures, random coffee trips, and…sleeping in your hammock? curiosity gets the better of you as you befriend him, but just what could have this man sleeping in your garden hammock every night?

pairing | jung hoseok  x reader

genre/warnings | neighbor!hobi, writer!reader, pure cotton candy fluff, this may actually rot your teeth

word count | 6.7k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | ahaha this did end up shorter than give and take, bc it felt very right to end it where i did!!! there’s a lot of flower language used in this, bc i’m the ultimate slut for flower language, i think it’s the cutest shit i’ve ever seen. i also tried to make this MC different than g.a.t’s, pls tell me if i failed!!!! i want them all to be v distinguishable and independent and unique, and i love feedback!!!!

The moving van in front of the neighbor's house shocks you when you get up that morning. There had been a For Sale sign hanging in the yard for upwards of a year, and you've watched with mild amusement as the price continued to drop.

A favorite hobby of yours is coming up with creative reasons the realtor was more and more desperate to sell the house. Your favorite so far was that the adorable plump woman had to sell it soon, or her wife would run off with their girlfriend in the night, never to be seen again.  Until Minri did get it sold, that is, upon which her wife and girlfriend would return and they would live in bliss.

Minri was, in actuality, very nice, and you doubt you should be entertaining such thoughts about her. She'd sold you your own house, after all; a lovely little three-bedroom, with a wonderful yard for your garden and your friends' dogs. Minri had even managed it at a great price, though she had emphasized the cleanliness of the place and the nearby churches, which was a little odd. You owed her for it, no matter how peculiar she had been during the viewing. 

Well not really, she got a very nice commission from the sale, but it's the principle of the thing. 

You scavenge one of the dry erase markers from the drawer and make a note on your fridge to bake her cookies sometime soon. Your mother would have a fit if she saw you writing straight on your fridge, but it was erasable and easy and you are if nothing if not a simple girl. 

You pull yourself from your musings and make another note to call your mother before she could get huffy that you haven't in a while, and toss the marker back into the drawer when you're done. You direct your attention back at the moving van, unsurprised when a gaggle of young-looking boys emerges from the neighboring house to start unloading. Well, it wouldn't be extremely fair to call them a gaggle, as there are only three of them, but the point stands. They seem to be very close, judging by the way they tease and play, and it makes you smile a little. It was long past time the neighborhood got some life in it. The closest people to your age are the couple three doors down, in their 50s and always willing to talk about their seven children. It got tiring. 

With a soft sigh, you turn from the window at your sink and dismiss the flash of bright pink you see in the mirroring window from next door. None of the three you saw had pink hair, but you could have missed one. You slide your hand along the spine of your cat, Tuna, and smile as she wraps her tail around your wrist for a moment before chirping and jumping down from the counter. She follows as you make your way to your office, tucked into the smallest of the bedrooms because it gets the best light, and settle at your desk to return to your work. Novels don't write themselves, after all. 

You aren’t sure which of the boys lives next door, but it becomes quickly clear that it’s only one of them. Several are over at all hours of the day, but by the time the sun goes down, there’s usually only one or two there. A variety of vehicles come and go, but only one is there often enough to be the owner's. You might think it was a gay couple, had you not heard the complaints about an uncomfortable sofa on your way to get your morning paper.

They’re a very respectful bunch, whoever they are. They keep things quiet after sunset, and wait for a reasonable hour to start their backyard morning exercises. The music they play is pleasant, if a bit loud as it drifts over to where you kneel in the dirt. The fence that separates your yard from his reaches your shoulder. A white-picket thing that surrounds each of the yards in the neighborhood, you've never cared much for it, and it keeps you from seeing anything notable as you tend your garden. Still, you catch snippets of conversation, bits of stories that you never get a conclusion to, jokes with a punchline that’s carried off by the wind. 

For the most part, though, you catch names; Jungkook, Jimin, Seokjin, different variants of each, but the one you hear most often is Hobi. His name rings out constantly, gliding through the air on notes of both mirth and vitriol. It’s usually accompanied by a laugh that makes your heart warm in your chest, or some form of inhuman screech, though you’re not sure why. You’ve never seen enough to understand what happens at the house next door, nor have you actually met any of the people that come and go like leaves in the fall. 

Still, you can’t deny your curiosity, and you tell yourself that if the opportunity presents itself, you’ll introduce yourself. Despite that decision, the opportunity never does seem to present itself. Weeks pass, and you find that you feel nervous at the thought of going and introducing yourself now. The window has passed, it would be too strange now, he would think you odd. So you keep to your own house, tending your flowers and your trees, writing your novel, and doing your level best to keep Tuna off of the manuscripts and letters sitting around that you have yet to organize. You’ve resigned yourself to the sad truth that you simply won’t get to know your neighbor, won’t be able to have that adorable friendship you’ve dreamed of, won’t even know which one it is that lives there. 

The universe has always worked rather strangely for you, though, and it’s not long after your acceptance of this fact that you come out of your back door, gardening gloves in hand and already reaching for the misting hose, to find someone swaying in your hammock. 

You’re not really mad, you don’t use it very often anyway and someone should. Mostly you’re curious - you always have been, and always will be, most likely. Curious as to why someone is in your hammock when most everyone on the block has their own lawn furniture, who that someone is, how they got into your yard. The bolt on the gate is nearly impossible to unlatch from the outside; you know, from the many times that you’ve locked yourself out and had to James Bond your way into your own house through the back window.

You set your gloves on your patio table - a white bistro set your mother gave you when you moved out - and make your way over to the stranger. He’s good-looking; feather-soft brown hair and oddly clear skin, drowning in a sweatshirt that was at least two sizes too big, snoring lightly as the wind rocked him. 

“Hey,” You say. He doesn’t respond, and you frown. “Hey, dude, what are you doing?” Still no response. You huff and turn, eyeing the yard for something to help. You don’t want to shake him awake, that could prove dangerous if he swings out at you. Your eyes light up as they land on the hose, forgotten among the grass. You tromp over and pick it up, dragging it back over to where the hammock sways among the tree branches. 

“I’m gonna spray you awake,” You say. You receive no reaction, not that you expected any, and shrug. With one pulse, a fine mist of water settles on him. The guy does, indeed, flail, swinging wildly in a futile attempt to fight the water raining down him. He sputters and wipes at his face, and you watch as he does. 

“What the hell, who the fuck sprays someone with water when they're sleeping?” He asks, shaking out his now damp hair. 

“In my defense, I told you I was going to do it. You were the one that was asleep and didn’t hear.” The man freezes at the sound of your voice, looking around your yard as if seeing it for the first time. He gives you a hesitant and apologetic grin, and the sun seems to grow brighter on his face. 

“I’m so sorry, I did not mean to fall asleep in your yard, I swear. There was...it’s a long story, but it really was an accident.” He flips himself gracefully off the hammock, with practiced ease that makes you only a little jealous. You should learn to do that. 

“It’s fine, you can sleep in the hammock. I only want to know how you got in my yard.”

“I vaulted the fence,” He says as if it was obvious. You look from him to the fence, and back again. “What? It’s not difficult.” You turn back to the fence, measuring it with your eyes. If he was able to vault it without much difficulty, how fast would he have to be going? He would surely need a good deal of momentum, of course, to be able to launch himself five feet up in the air. The only thing in your brain is that ‘ten-foot vertical leap’ meme, and you curse your best friend for sending you every meme he ever thinks is remotely amusing. 

The sound of your name brings you back to the present, and you focus on the man once more. “That’s you, I’m assuming?” The man says. You nod and point to him, belatedly realizing that you still have the hose in your hand when he flinches. 

“Which one are you?” You ask him. He gives you a confused look. “There are several people next door most of the time, which one are you? Jungkook, Jimin, Seokjin, or Hobi?”

“Hobi,” He says after a second, beaming at you as he does. Something in your chest starts to unfurl itself, and the sensation is strangely comforting. “But my name is actually Hoseok, they just call me Hobi. You’re welcome to as well, most do.”

“Right.” You watch him for a few more seconds as he shakes out his sweatshirt, water dusting the grass below him. “I have gardening to do. Please let me know the next time you want to sleep in the hammock.” You turn back to the flowers closest the fence, satisfied now that you’ve answered so many of your questions about your neighbor. 

“You aren’t going to ask why I’m here?” His voice calls from behind you. You shrug, kneeling beside your white camellias and checking their soil and sprouts. They were starting to bloom and you needed to be careful to make sure they weren’t soaking up too much water. “So I can seriously sleep here whenever. I just have to tell you first?”

“That’s what I said,” You reply. You pause, thinking for a second, and turn to look at him. “Does this make us friends?” The beaming smile he wears is nearly blinding, and you find it very endearing that he is so wildly happy at such a small thing. 

“It absolutely makes us friends,” He tells you. You return the smile, albeit yours is much less sunshine-y than his. He starts to walk toward the fence and you laugh under your breath. 

“Hoseok, you can use the gate,” You tell him. He stops and looks between the gate and the fence for a second before laughing embarrassedly at himself. “Please refrain from vaulting the fence in the future, as well. I'll leave the gate unlatched for you from now on.”

Hoseok grins and waves as he jogs out the gate and to his own home. You don’t relax until you hear the click of his door shut. A soft mrow from your left has you moving to pet Tuna once more, and you beam at her. 

“It’s been a long time since I had a friend, hasn’t it?”

You don't expect to see or hear much from Hoseok after your brief interaction. You've had friends before, of course, but they all tend to fade away as they have their own lives and you have deadlines. Even your closest friends, three boys you met in college and somehow kept around, don't message you as often when you're close to finishing your work; they know better than to expect a response when you have an editor breathing down your neck. You're used to it, used to people becoming immersed in their own problems and not wanting to share them, so you never get upset about it anymore. There's no use in it, not when you do the same thing.

You're so used to this that it surprises you when Hoseok waves at you one morning as you're both getting mail. Another day he's playing football with a couple of friends and shouts a quick greeting over the fence as you dip down to do your gardening. One memorable evening, you turn from shooing a raccoon away from your trash with a feather duster to see Hoseok watching from his driveway. You give him a polite smile and he shoots you a proud, yet puzzled, grin, and the next day when he sees you putting out small feeders near the back part of your yard for the raccoon, he just chuckles. 

Not to mention that you still come outside most mornings to find him snoozing in your hammock, rocking in the gentle breeze and comfortable as can be. He's never given you any explanation, though to be fair, you also don't pry. 

It's a struggle; you want so much to know why he doesn't sleep in his house that sits not ten feet away from yours. You don't want to push him, though, too scared of breaking this tentative friendship you've built over something so small. 

Things only start to change the afternoon he knocks on your back door while you're getting lunch ready for Tuna. She yells as you set the food down in front of her - a special blend designed to help her hearing and her eyesight since she's predisposed to troubles with both - but she quiets soon enough. You step around her to open the door, and you're shocked at the expression on Hoseok's face. 

He wears a smile now, but for a second...for a second, he had looked afraid. 

Your name drops from his lips in a tone that tells you he didn't expect you to answer. "I was only wondering, do you, um…" He trails off and you wait patiently for him to finish the thought. "Do you want to get lunch? Coffee? Anything? I need to get out of the house for a while."

"Sure," You reply. "Let me get my wallet." You move to the entryway to grab the thing - old and falling apart but still useful - and when you return, Hoseok is standing exactly where you left him. You pat Tuna's head and exit, closing the door behind you before you turn to Hoseok with an expectant smile. "I'll drive?" You suggest, since he still seems somewhat jumpy, and he nods. 

He's not quiet on the drive, by any means, but it amazes you how he says so much but so little all at once. By the time you get to the cafe he directed you to, you've heard all about the antics of his friends - Jimin, Jungkook, and Seokjin, who helped him move that day - and you've heard plenty about their time at school and his days spent as a literature professor at the local university, and yet that's the most you know about him. Fun anecdotes and the off-hand comment about a student. Definitely not a word about why he sleeps in your hammock, or why he showed up at your door out of nowhere and asked you to lunch with a look in eyes that you thought you'd only see from a rabbit caught in a hunter's snare. 

Still, as curious as you are, you can't bring yourself to ask about it, because it's so obvious that he wants to talk about anything else. 

"So, what do you do? I never see you leave for work when everyone else does, so I assume you work from home?" You nod in response to Hoseok's question.

"I do. I'm an author, so I spend quite a bit of time in my office. That's why I started gardening, actually, so that I was forced to be outside in the sun at least a little bit every day. Otherwise, I tend to nest in my office for days without leaving."

"That makes a lot of sense," He says as he sips at his coffee. "What do you write?" 

"Horror." The shock on his face, like perhaps he heard you wrong, is one of your favorite things about telling people you write. He gazes at you, taking in the messy hair, overalls, daisy-covered shirt, and pink sandals. "Psychological horror, to be exact.”

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." You grin, much too amused with the entire conversation. You slide your phone out of your pocket and tap at it until you're at your official website. You slide it across for him to see, and he clicks through the pages. There are several - one for each series, one for your upcoming releases, an appearance schedule, and then a quick bio that features a picture of you and Tuna. When he slides the phone back across the table, he looks impressed, and it warms you. 

"I had no idea that was you," he says. You can't help the knowing grin. "You seem a little...bright for the genre."

"The mind is a fascinating place, Hoseok. The darker parts are so often either overlooked entirely or exaggerated for dramatic purposes. I want to tell real stories about real things that can happen. There's no need for embellishment when very real, very terrible things happen every single day. Besides, you don't need to dress in all black and carry around a leather-bound copy of Stephen King to prove you're interested in horror." He hums across the table, and his look has turned almost calculating. 

"I may have to read some of your work then."

"You might." You give him a serene smile and finish your coffee. 

He's somehow friendlier after that. He initiates small conversations almost every day, outside your mailbox or hanging over the fence while you garden. He appears all but every other day on your doorstep, looking terrified but grinning as he asks you to go to coffee. You start to wonder if there's something chasing him that only he can see, but brush the thought off the same second you have it. You've become too deep into your latest book. 

He does read your work, which surprised you; you'd never expected him to do so. You offer to lend him your copies, as you have one of each on a shelf in your office, but he steadfastly refuses. You talk about it over coffee, and though you shouldn't be surprised at the quick thinking and keen observations he makes, you are. As often as you interact with your readers at signings and readings and conventions, you've never been quite so invested in someone's thoughts before.

You're eager to know what he thinks of the most recent book he's read. You're curious as to what metaphors and symbolism he's picked up on, what foreshadowing has punched him in the gut with realization.  If he would criticize the heavy-handed allegory you've created, or if praise would fall from his lips to slide across and settle in your chest.

It's been a very long time since you cared for someone's opinion like this, you realize one morning as you stare out your kitchen window. Butterflies form in your stomach and you sigh, content in the knowledge that there would be no running from this. You watch as Hoseok runs around his own backyard, laughing at something Jimin says. He's sweaty from the game they're playing, but the sunlight seems to absorb into his skin in a way you've not seen before, and it looks like he's glowing. His smile lights up the sunset, and you can hear his laugh from here, and you want nothing more than to wrap yourself up in the sound. 

No, you decide, there would be no running from these feelings, only acceptance of the blossoming fondness inside your heart. You turn from the window as Hoseok laughs again, spotting an empty section of your garden as you do, right beside the eye-catching red tulips. It makes you frown, as you can't remember there being an empty section there before.

You make a note on your fridge to pick up some pink camellias next time you're at the garden center to fill it. Your reminder to call your mother stares back at you and frown at it for a solid minute before you pick up the phone. As it rings, you resign yourself to yet another conversation with your mother about why you're not married with a real career yet.

"Have you had dinner yet?"

You look up from the weeds in your grasp to see Hoseok leaning across your fence and beaming at you. 

"Have you had dinner yet?" Hoseok repeats at your obvious confusion. "I ordered delivery and saw you out here and I thought I should offer to share. Since you've been so kind in sharing your lovely hammock and free time, I want to repay the favor."

"Oh. No, I haven't eaten yet." You stand and dust the dirt off your gloves before sliding them off. Hoseok grins and hands two large bags over the fence to you. You take them, curious, and watch as he pulls himself up and over the fence. He’s careful not to step on your flowers, but he still gives an apologetic smile as you sigh. "The gate is right there, Hobi."

He winks as he rights himself and takes one of the bags. "It's faster like this." You laugh and slide your gloves off with care, not wanting to drop the food, and hang them on the fence beside you. Hoseok is already halfway to your back door and waves at Tuna where she waits on your dining table. 

"Oh, Hoseok, don't-" He's opened the door before you can finish your sentence, and a small black and tan fluff darts out. The dog circles him, yipping at his toes and running back and forth between the two of you. Hoseok looks startled, but a smile spreads across his face after a moment. "I'm sorry, I'm dogsitting for my friend while he's out of town."

Hoseok coos at the dog and leads him back inside, luring him along with a small bit of meat. You laugh as you follow, sliding a hand down Tuna's back as you shut the door behind you. 

"He's adorable, I love him!" Hoseok exclaims, laughing again as he sets the food on the counter. He looks at you and gestures to the piece of meat in his hand, and you nod to let him know it's fine. Yeontan takes it and follows Hobi around as he starts getting plates and utensils, the fact that he knows where they are is a testament to how often he's at your house.

The two of you eat in relative silence. Tuna bathes languidly atop her cat tower and Yeontan sits between you and Hoseok, his entire body shaking back and forth as his tail wags. Every so often, Hoseok will comment about his day, as he usually does when the two of you eat together, and he asks about yours. You tell him about the new flowers you've planted - some gorgeous white lilies that should bloom well. He tells you about his theories and opinions on the last book of yours he'd read. 

By the time you're finished eating, he has several new thoughts and notes jotted down in a hasty scrawl on a napkin. He's insightful with his questions, bringing up points you hadn't considered and opinions on continuity that you need to clarify in the future. Your heart flutters in your chest when he smiles, bouncing Yeontan in his lap. 

"I do think they're good, though," He says as he makes kissy faces at the dog. "Like, good good. If I ever teach a psychological horror class, I may use them. Students could learn a lot from the dedication to detail."

"Thanks, Hobi," You tell him, and you don't bother to hide the fond smile. The fluttering in your chest is familiar at this point, and it makes you sigh a little.

You're so smitten, you think as you watch him bounce Yeontan on his knee; you should, perhaps, feel more conflicted about your growing emotions. And yet, you've been accepting of it since you first met him. It was as if the second you met Hoseok, you knew you would fall for him. How could you not, with his charm and warmth and humor and the unbearable mystique he left in his wake each time you spoke to him? 

"Oh, that reminds me, I have something for you!" You stand and head outside for a mere moment, grabbing what you need in a flash. When you return, Yeontan is on his belly beside Hoseok, Tuna glaring at both of them with envy. You set the pot in front of him, and he blinks at it, bewildered. 

"Is this...?"

"Tulips!" You say with a grin. The yellow blossoms stand proud as he gapes, and you like to imagine that they're proud they look so good for him. "To brighten up your house. You always seem so interested them, and I had several extra seedlings this year, so I grew one for you."

The look on Hoseok's face is unreadable and he's silent for a long while as he looks at the flowers. You wait; you've seen the way he looks at your garden while the two of you talk over the fence, you've seen the way that he eyes the tulips as you weed them. You know it's a good gift, and you scream the reminder inside your chest to drown out the voice in the back of your head saying otherwise. It's worth the wait when his face splits into the biggest smile you've ever seen, radiant and bright. It almost seems to surround him, a halo of joy that feels like a summer sun. 

"I absolutely love it," He tells you. "It's gorgeous, I'm going to make sure everyone can see it." He stands, potted flowers cradled in both hands like a babe, and gives Yeontan one last kiss. "I should be going anyway, I have a class in the morning, but I need to make sure I find the perfect place for these." He beams at you again, and you return his grin. 

"It's nothing, Hobi," You say, walking him to the front door and opening it for him. "Consider it a housewarming gift." He beams as he makes his way across to his own house, and the way he's already cooing at the buds and talking to it have your emotions a mess.

It's been months since you first went to coffee with Hoseok. The two of you are, you would say, friends. You've definitely graduated from neighbors, and you spend more time together than acquaintances, but it feels strange to call him your friend when what you feel is so much more than that. 

Every time you see him, it only gets worse. More than once, you wished time would stand still if only to keep him with you a little longer. Being around him feels like standing in a meadow of daffodils in the noon sun, heat seeping into your skin and painting the world with its oranges and yellows while the breeze whispers a promise in your ear as it rolls through you. 

You wish you could bottle the feeling. 

You make a note on your fridge - 'bottling emotions for capitalistic gain - too obvious? trite? overused? must consider further' - and set out a treat for Tuna. She's grumpy, likely because you've yet again woken at four in the morning and disrupted her usual bed - your face - with your need for a bathroom and a snack.

You haven't slept much that week, too busy polishing the last few press releases and comments that had to be perfect before release. You'd finally done the last of the work and had checked the mail and done your gardening before you received Joy's email saying you were good to go back into hibernation until the next book was due. 

You took the hint and proceeded to pass out at around five that evening. You needed the sleep, clearly; you can't remember the last time you slept so long without even getting up to pee. Still, you muse as you munch on a week-old granola bar your mother left on her last visit, you're glad that you've gotten the book done. You're always relieved when you finish writing one, these days. In the beginning, you would wait anxiously until publication finished and the book was on the shelves. Joy had to pull you out of your rabbit hole several times, too consumed with what people were saying to even bother with anything else. 

That was before Tuna, of course, and the garden. 

Now, you were content seeing whatever happened your way. You didn't much care for professional reviews anymore; they were nice but they weren't as honest. The random people who stumbled onto Twitter in the early hours of the morning because they'd just turned the last page were much more genuine. There were always those that criticized you, of course, but you contented yourself with the knowledge that they never had to read your books if they didn't want to. Others enjoyed them, and that was what mattered. The ones who read them and then couldn't sleep, either for need to express their thoughts to someone before they could rest or because they were too on edge, too anxious, the ones who saw danger in every mundane shadow of their bedroom after putting your book down, those were the ones who mattered to you.

A bang startles you out of your thoughts, and you share a look with Tuna. Her fur is raised, tail straight up as she looks to your front door. You follow her gaze and see nothing, which isn't unusual. Tuna regularly communes with whatever shadow monsters exist in that parallel plane of existence only cats can see. It's not typical, however, for you to be able to hear said shadow monsters. 

You pad your way to the front door, sliding one of the hardcovers that had arrived the day before into your hand as you do, in case one of the shadow monsters tried something. Another bang echoes throughout your house, followed by a series of quick, desperate knocks. Deciding that no respectable shadow monster would knock before murdering you, you open the door to see Hoseok, panicked and sweating and panting. He looks as surprised as you feel. 

"Um…" is all he says for a minute, and you wait. "I didn't expect you to answer, honestly, I just. You weren't around earlier so I didn't want to use the hammock, and it's getting kind of chilly, and so I tried to sleep in the house, but it's gotten worse and I was doing alright but then it started making these noises? So I tried to get it to stop with some things I found online but that only made it all worse, and then it seemed like things were gonna shoot around the room, so I-"

"Hoseok," You interrupt. He stops, fixing wide eyes on you. "Context." "My house is being haunted by some kind of demon monster and I think it's going to try to kill me and I would really appreciate your help in exorcising it." You blink, but the grave expression on his face doesn't change. It takes a second for your brain to fit that particular frame around the puzzle that Hoseok has been - sleeping in the hammock, random coffee trips where he's jittery and on edge, the minute you go to leave the cafe, the terrified look in his eyes whenever he comes over or sparks a conversation out of nowhere. 

"Okay," You say, sliding the book under your arm and closing the door behind you. Hoseok looks taken aback at the idea that you're actually going to help him, but he hesitantly follows as you head across the front yard to his own front door. 

The house is quiet when you enter, the shadows of still-yet-to-be-unpacked boxes dancing on the walls as you turn the overhead light on. He's lived in the house for months and yet it seems only the bare necessities have been unpacked; it should surprise you more, but considering the fact that he's spent all that time believing there's a ghost haunting him, you aren't surprised.

Your first walk through the house doesn't seem to trigger anything. It's completely silent, eerily still, and yet Hoseok seems to jump at every creak of a floorboard, ready to run at every twisting shadow that shies away from the light. 

"Is there a ghost here?" You eventually call into the living room, and Hoseok curses at the soft thud that echoes. Your eyes narrow, darting around the space. "I asked a question. Don't be rude, it's very inconsiderate of you." There's a couple of other thuds eyes track them around the room. "If you don't stop, I'm going to start performing an exorcism, and then who's going to regret being impolite?" 

Hoseok hisses your name, but you ignore him, instead of focusing on the way the lamp in the corner wobbles ever so slightly. Hoseok clearly also notices this, inching towards the door once more. 

"Hoseok said you were talking to him. Am I not good enough?" There's a pause, and then a warbled voice reverberates through the room, eerie and lingering, which only cements your theory. You turn to Hoseok and lower your voice, barely even whispering. You're so close that your lips brush his ear as you ask him where the entrance to his attic is. He leads you to it, stepping softly and avoiding the creaky floorboards as you do.

It's harder to be quiet as he pulls the trapdoor down, stairs sliding along with it, but at this point, you don't need to be. You ascend first, Hoseok following close behind. He no longer looks afraid, merely curious, and you're glad for it. It's a pity that he's felt so alienated from his own house. 

There are several squeaking sounds as you turn on your phone flashlight and showing Hoseok exactly what has been haunting him: a pink-haired young man and his blonde friend, both scrambling for cover amidst the sleeping bag and snack wrappers that litter the floor of the attic. 

You stand aside as Hoseok chases them out, cursing about mice and sleep and ungrateful friends as he does. When Jungkook and Jimin are both gone, laughing so hard they can't run, you show Hoseok the boots they used to stomp around, the nearly-invisible fishing line threaded down and around various lamps and paintings, the radio hookup they used to change their voices.

"It's all stuff I've used in books before," You tell him as he pours a cups of coffee for you both. "Also, I could hear them laughing."

"I feel like an idiot for waking you up for this. And for sleeping in a hammock and getting chased out of my house for something so stupid." He runs a hand through his hair and the fondness in your chest grows. He doesn’t look at you, instead staring at the potted tulips sitting in his kitchen window. It mirrors your own, and you’ve caught yourself staring more than once from your own kitchen.

"There are worse things,” you say.

"Oh?"

"Mhm. I could've not had a hammock." The small grin he gives has you melting, and you want nothing more than to wrap him in a hug and kiss away the line between his brows. 

“You have a point," He says with a small laugh. "It is a really comfortable hammock. I almost don't want to go back to my bed."

"So don't," You say, voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. The tone in his voice feels new, feels good, like perhaps he's standing in that meadow of daffodils with you, and it gives you hope. "You're always welcome to use the hammock. As I said, someone should, otherwise it's going to hang there, all sad and lonely."

He looks shocked to hear that, though you aren't sure why. It isn't like you've been very secretive of the way he makes you feel; but then, you haven't been outright vocal, either. And he did think he was being haunted for the better part of four months, without realizing it was two of his friends living in his attic.

"You're welcome to come over whenever, Hobi," You tell him. "You don't need to be chased out by a ghost to talk to me."

"I don't want to interrupt your work," He says. His voice is hesitant and sweet and it reminds you of the orange blossoms you used to plant with your grandmother. 

"I'm actually finished with my book," You tell him. He makes a questioning noise, and you remember the hardcover tucked under your arm and set it on the counter. "This is actually for you." He steps closer to look it over and flips it around to look at the back as well. 

"I can't take your only copy," He starts but you cut him off with a shake of your head. 

"I have one for me," You say. Your voice is firm, unaffected by the rolling of your stomach, but it's quieter than usual. "That's yours. I wanted your opinion on it if it lives up to the hype. We talked about the one right before this last week, and I'm curious if this one will answer any of your questions or if it leaves you with more. I've been trying some new things, and I'm not sure how well I executed them."

You choke the need to keep talking. Instead, you bite your tongue and return the look Hoseok is giving you; it's intense and full of something you can't place. But he's opened the book to the back, fingers resting lightly against the dedication bearing his name, thumb brushing the red carnation you'd pressed between the pages out of sheer impulse. 

"You don't have to read it, of course," You eventually say. 

"I'll need something to do while you garden, though," He says, stepping closer and letting the book fall closed. "I can't exactly lay in that hammock and watch you garden, can I?"

"If you wanted, you could." He's closer than he's ever been now, eyes focused on your lips even as he studies your face for any sign that you don't want him there. "I wouldn't mind."

When he finally presses his lips to yours, they're softer than you expected. Even his hands are soft as he slides them up to cup your jaw and press deeper, like gardenia blossoms against your skin, and everywhere he touches is warmed, as if the sun itself was dancing across you. It makes it hard to breathe, but god, at this point, you'd be fine with never breathing again so long as he kept kissing you. 

It feels like hours when he finally pulls away, a shy smile painted pink with the sunrise, and it's breathtaking. 

Later that day, you plant lilies, white and yellow intermixed in a pattern that your grandmother taught you, while Hoseok swings lazily in your hammock, one leg on the ground to rock himself. He spouts questions at you as he does, making little notes in the margins of each page as you respond, Tuna curled beside him and happily snoring. 

You should plant more daffodils, you decide as you watch them.

[moonraccoon-exe]

Smol child Noctis

Yes, smol child Noctis too

Baby Noctis in a Bennu onesie.

Baby Noctis in a moogle onesie.

Baby Noctis in a black chocobo onesie, too.

Indeed, baby Noctis has many different onesies.

2 y.o. Noctis is constantly trying to smack the people that wear swords or that he’s seen fight.

2 y.o. Noctis constantly tries to smack Cor.

2 y.o. Noctis constnatly trying to smack Clarus.

2 y.o. Noctis also is constantly trying to smack Gladio.

2 y.o. Noctis wants to prove he’s strong, too, and better than them all so he’s trying to smack them.

Gladio’s included because big kid that’s patrolling around his crib has a sword, but smol kid Noct is not scared of him >:(

3 y.o. Noctis is hitting at Cor’s leg with all his might.

3 y.o. Noctis is falling on his buttocks from the effort.

3 y.o. Noctis is standing up to continue on his task.

Smol kid Noctis likes to draw a lot.

Smol kid Noctis has a wide collection of crayons.

Smol kid Noctis doesn’t want to share them with smart bigger kid >:’(

Smart bigger kid pets him and feeds him cookies, so smal child Noctis will start lending him his crayons.

BUT HE HAS TO GIVE THEM BACK WHEN HE’S DONE.

6 y.o. Ignis gifted 4 y.o. Noctis the prettiest blue crayon he found.

He likes to color even if there’s no drawing.

4 y.o. Noctis has colored on the walls of the throne room.

Smol child Noctis as picky eater.

He’s fighting and squirming in his high baby chair because nannies are trying to give him more of that green stuff that he hates.

“Prince Noctis, please, eat your-”

“NOOO!!”

“It’s yummy! Look! Yum! Your turn!”

“NNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

“But why not? :’(”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO >:(”

5 y.o. Noctis has discovered Warping on his own. 

Nannies wanted him to eat, so he ran away. 

When he found they were catching up with him, he decided to let Mr. Moogle to save himself, so he threw him ahead.

He wished SO HARD to go as far as Mr. Moogle so quickly.

POOF.

5 y.o. Noctis just warped.

Nobody should have let this kid discover how to do that.

He’s warping away from eating things he doesn’t like.

He’s warping off bed when he doesn’t want to sleep.

He’s warping out of the bathroom, still naked, because he doesn’t want to bath and you’re not forcing him.

Smol kid Noctis likes pianos.

Smol kid Noctis sits at the piano when Mr. Scientia’s playing it.

Smol kid Noctis smacks the keys because THEY SOUND SO PRETTY I WANT MORE >:(

Smol kid Noctis likes naps.

It’s always nap time.

Smol kid Noctis falling asleep in cute but non conventional places.

Smol kid Noctis is asleep under the crib.

Smol kid Noctis is asleep curled up on the throne.

Smol kid Noctis is asleep in the Crystal room, who the hell let him in?

What do you mean he just appeared there.

Smol kid Noctis is a sneaky bastard.

There were kid Gladio’s running non-stop into places he shouldn’t be in, Noctis just randomly appears in those places.

Back to innapropiate sleeping places.

Smol kid Noctis is asleep on the training hall.

Smol kid Noctis, for some reason, is asleep on top of a door’s entablature.

How.

Smol kid Noctis is asleep in an elevator.

Smol kid Noctis is asleep at the entrance of the Citadel, at a random step of the staircase, curled up in a corner.

“Noctis, why do you insist on running away from your nannies and sleep in random places like that?”

“It’s warm.”

Smol kid Noctis thinks his first name is Prince. 

Smol kid Noctis names people the first words they say if he doesn’t know their name.

It’s a bit complicated when he’s known over 20 “Hello”s and can’t difference them.

Smol kid Noctis then starts naming people the things they do or carry around.

“Lady Paperwork.”

“Mister Long cape.”

“Mister Shield.”

“Lady Curl Hair.”

“Mister >:| face.”

That’s Drautos.

Like smol child Gladio, smol child Noctis’ favorite word during a stage is “No”.

Except he says it with much more frequency.

On a much longer stage.

“NO”

No what? Basically everything.

“NO! >:(”

Wanna eat someth-

“NO!”

“Okay, then don’t eat anyt-”

“NOOOOO!”

“What are you drawi-”

“NO!”

“Do you want to-”

“NO!”

You’re standing there.

“NOOOOOOO! >:(”

Smol child Noct likes to touch everything.

Smol child Noct wants to touch everything that he finds pretty or strange or curious.

Smol child Noctis is touching all the bushes and flowers.

He’s touching kid Gladio’s face.

He’s touching kid Ignis’ face.

He’s touching kid Gladio’s toy sword.

He’s touching kid Ignis’ shoes.

He’s touching the dogs.

He’s touching the throne.

He’s touching his dad’s legs.

He’s touching Regis’ beard.

He’s touching the grass.

He tried touching birds.

“Birbs don’t like me, Iggy :’(”

He’s touching people’s eyes.

He likes eyes.

He’s touching Cor’s legs.

They so strong.

Smol kid Noctis loves water bodies.

Smol kid Noctis is definitely putting his hands inside any water body that crosses his way.

Smol kid Noctis is constantly falling down in the garden’s ponds.

Smol kid Noctis has half the body inside fountains.

It’s the upper part of the body.

Smol kid Noctis is putting his hands in the fish tanks.

Smol kid Noctis is putting his hands in the rain.

Rain’s the worst because he can’t catch it.

Nannies take advantage of his curiosity for water so bathe him.

Smol kid Noctis loves fish.

He tried touching them.

Crownsguards have found smol prince Noctis inside the pond walking after the fish.

“Fish don’t like me either, Iggy ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ “

“Prince, please, don’t cry ;_____;”

Both kids are crying.

Smol kid Noctis is staring at the fish tank for two hours in silence.

Smol kid Noctis is staring at the fish pond for two hours.

Smol kid Noctis adopts a fish.

He swears he found it and that it followed him home.

It was a gift from Regis.

Smol kid Noctis is going to scream at a person if they’re smoking in his sight range.

Not like a terrified scream. More like a fierce warcry.

But he’s 3 y.o.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!! >:C”

He’s not shutting up until you put the cigarette down or leave.

If he’s with dad and somebody walks in and says “Your Majesty-” Noctis will scream, too until you leave. 

It’s because smol kid Noctis knows that “Your Majesty” is always followed by “We required your presence in (X) place” and smol kid Noctis wants his dad with HIM, not with THEM >:(

Smol kid Noctis is climbing up places.

He likes climbing up places.

Smol kid Noctis is climbing up Claru’s cape. 

The Shield has a kid hugged to his head because smol kid Noctis doesn’t know how to get back down.

Smol kid Noctis is smacking Gladio on the chest and legs constantly.

“STOP GROWING UP >:(”

He doesn’t like to be smaller.

3 y.o. Noctis hears kid Ignis has to go with the Orthopedist.

3 y.o. Noctis is crying. He’s bawling and screaming. It’s terrible.

3 y.o. Noctis thinks an orthopedist is kind of like a Grim Reaper.

3 y.o. Noctis thinks Iggy’s going to die. :’(

3 y.o. Noctis won’t let kid Iggy sleep anywhere else that isn’t his bed for a week.

5 y.o. Noctis is questioning Cor.

“If you’re so immortal why are you old?”

“How did you become Immortal?”

“It’s only a name.”

“Your mom named you Immortal?”

“No, I mean, I’m not Immortal, it’s just what people call me.”

“So if your mommy names you Immortal you become Immortal?”

“That’s now that I sa-”

“I am Noctis. What does that- what is a Noctis?”

“Noctis is-”

“So how do I become Immortal?”

“You’re not letting me answer anyth-”

“Does it work if I change my name when I get old like you?”

“You shouldn’t cha-”

“Or do you have to be born named Immortal?”

Smol kid Noctis isn’t the friendliest.

Smoller kid Noctis has to be carried by Regis or is constantly carried by him, and if introduced to other people, Noctis will hide in papa’s chest/shoulder/neck/cape.

He’s not going to show himself no matter how hard you try.

Smol kid Noctis is smacking adults that get too close.

Smoller kid Noctis is slapping Drautos and crying if the man picks him up.

Smol kid Noctis is still slapping Drautos, but trying to fight him if carried by him.

Smol kid Noctis doesn’t like Drautos.

That perceptive little shit.

Smol kid Noctis doesn’t like to be carried. Unless it’s dad. 

Smol kid Noctis likes singing. Only if he’s alone.

Smol kid Noctis goes around the Citadel touching things and asking people to let him touch their eyes.

Smol kid Noctis doesn’t understand tag game.

Smol kid Noctis is kicking kids that make a mean comment about kid Iggy.

Smol kid Noctis constantly wants to fight Gladio.

If they start fighting, kid Noctis will start crying if Gladio’s hurt.

Smol kid Noctis is hugging him and apologizing.

Smol kid Noctis is fighting him again next day.

Smol kid Noctis yells in joy when he sees the moon.

Smol kid Noctis has a daily ritual of going out at night to see the moon.

He freaking adores the damn moon.

Smol kid Noctis has created a dance for full moon.

“What are you doing, your Highness?”

“MOON’S HAPPY o(≧∇≦o)”

“Okay.”

Smol kid Noctis is mimicking dad.

Smol kid Noctis has put mud to his face.

“I have beard like papa :3″

“I’m a king.”

“Gladio, you’re your papa now, and you’re my shield and yes and Iggy’s there too.”

Kid Gladio and kid Noctis are running through the Citadel covered in mud, chased by the nannies and Crownsguards.

Nobody can catch those damn kids.

Kid Iggy gave himself to the adult authority when they found them in that mud puddle.

Kid Iggy had refused to get in there, but smol child Noctis threw mud at him anyway.

Smol kid Noctis is in the fish pond. Again.

Smol kid Noctis is putting away the books with no pictures.

Smol kid Noctis is trying to count the stars.

“It’s not impossible, papa, I can do it >:(”

He swears there’s “a thous-hundred and two stars.”

He counted them all, he’s sure.

Smol kid Noctis has snitched one of his father’s capes.

He could wrap himself in it like 10 times, but…

Smol kid Noctis is wearing it.

Smol kid Noctis is calmly walking around the Citadel SUPER PROUD and wanting people to see how kingly he looks. 

It’s an adorable sight, though.

People are still bowing at him to make him feel happy.

Smol kid Noctis fails to hide how excited he feels when people tell him he looks “like a king”.

He’s falling asleep curled in the cape, too.

In the middle of a hallway.

Smol kid Noctis is like a panda bear; there where he feels sleepy, there he will lie down and sleep, even if that’s in the middle of a hallway.

Smol kid Noctis has set up a barrack of pillows and sheets at his room because he swears there’s an evil monster ghost trying to attack him.

Kid Gladio joins him in their night watch.

Regis SO is scaring them with unexpected noises.

Kid Gladio and kid Noctis are screaming their lungs out and accidentally tangling in the sheets and falling down in fear.

Clarus shouldn’t be, but he’s laughing,too, like Regis, outside the room.

Smol kid Noctis will ask you to come closer and will put his hands on your mouth.

“You talk too much, stop >:(”

Smol kid Noctis apologizes to his hair when it’s cut.

Also his  nails.

Speaking of nails, smol kid Noctis is watching garden snails for an entire day if he spots one.

“Where are they going, they have their house on their back, so if they are not going home where are they going, where, where?”

It’s a calm day for his guards and nannies when he spots a snail.

Smol kid Noctis LOVES FLOWERS.

Smol kid Noctis has “secret hideouts”.

Smol kid Noctis sits there for hours if he’s feeling a little anxious or sad.

Yes, kids can feel anxious and sad.

There’s a hideout in the garden. He’s invited kid Gladio in that one cause kid Gladio loves flowers too.

There’s one in an unoccupied office of the Citadel.

Kid Noctis has invited kid Iggy there because kid Iggy likes books.

Kid Noctis is visited in his hideouts by the respective kids that know about them if he takes long in there.

Kid Gladio brings him candies.

Kid Iggy brings him cookies.

Kid Noctis LOVES PIRATES.

Kid Noctis has a toy pirate ship to play with in the tub.

He’s Captain Noct the Extra Mega Immortal.

“*GASP* GLADIO, RUN, IT’S PIRATES! WE MUST DEFEND THE SHIP, RUN, GO LOOK FOR IGGY”

“But Iggy can’t fight! D:”

“WE MUST PROTECT HIM TOO!”

The Pirates are the Crownsguard trainees.

also Cor.

Cor the Immortal is enemy pirate.

They’re fighting him as soon as they see him.

Cor is “fighting back.”

Sometimes Cor will throw himself to the ground and let the kids “hit” him.

It doesn’t hurt, but he’s going to groan anyway.

“So this is the little prince :)”

“I’m Captain Noct.”

“Oh, really? As in Crownsguard Captain?”

“NO! Pirate ship Captain!”

Omg please tell us this is not our next king.

Smol kid Noctis likes to sleep on top of the piano.

Smol kid Noctis likes to dance, but he’s a bit arrhythmical.

He feels shy if somebody watches him.

Kid Iggy will be his companion because he’s a bit more secure with him, but it took him months to let Iggy watch him.

Kid Iggy is ridiculously patient with him.

Smol kid Noctis never mastered it, but he was so happy with the little improvement he did get. :3

Smol kid Noctis will go to Iggy’s uncle and pull from his pants.

Smol kid Noctis is too shy to ask him, but Iggy’s uncle already knows, so he takes the little prince to the music room.

Smol kid Noctis wants to hear him play.

Smol kid Noctis FREAKING DAMN LOVES PIANOS.

Too shy to ask for lessons.

Smol kid Noctis is SHY.

Tends to hide it behind smacking people. Possibly noticed that with the amount of smacking headcanons above.

Smol kid Noctis has thumb in mouth when sleeping.

Smol kid Noctis is best friends with a plastic snowman.

It’s called William.

It’s a girl.

She knows the secrets of everyone in the Citadel, and shares them with him, but he has sworn to keep it secret, that’s why you can’t hear what he heard of you.

Smol kid Noctis likes to hug the pilars of the Citadel.

“They stand all this weight all alone, they’re so strong and must be so lonely, thank you for not letting the roof fall on us, Big Thing ;_____;”

Columns are Big Things.

Smol kid Noctis is a frog if there’s full moon on cloudy Fridays.

He swears.

Smol kid Noctis is hugging his friends and petting their heads if he thinks they’re sad.

Smol kid Noctis is holding to kid Iggy’s hand if he’s feeling insecure or anxious if Gladio’s not around.

Smol kid Noctis will hold to kid Gladio’s arm if he’s feeling insecure or anxious if Iggy isn’t around.

Smol kid Noctis will stand in between his friends if both are present if he’s feeling insecure or anxious. No need to hold their hands; he’s feeling safe enough being flanked.

This is smol child Noctis.

Here’s smol child Gladiolus.Here’s smol child Iggy.Here’s smol child Prompto.

They’re adorable and harmless. Do hug them a lot.

[rollinbrigittenv8]

What’s Inside A Full-Time Traveler’s Suitcase

Wandering Earl

It turns out that a full-time traveler doesn’t really need much stuff.

One pair of ripped socks. Boxer shorts with a tear in the back (oh my, these are old). A yellow t-shirt with all kinds of Vietnamese soup stains on the front. Two small tin boxes I bought for no reason at an antique shop in India earlier this year. And a blue belt that I hadn’t seen in about 14 months.

That’s a quick glimpse of some of the stuff I just found when I gutted my suitcase this morning in preparation for this post.

In fact, I think it’s the first time I’ve taken absolutely everything out in about two years.

Did I say suitcase? Yes I did.

After spending my first 16 years or so as a full-time traveler using my trusty Kelty Redwing 44 liter backpack, I’ve now spent a good portion of the past 2 years traveling around with my Eagle Creek Load Warrior 42 liter rolling suitcase.

Have I gone mad? Perhaps.

All I know is that this little sturdy suitcase, which is indeed smaller than my Kelty backpack, helps me keep things more organized, it’s super easy to pull along wherever I go and it’s still compact enough to take as a carry-on. And as I get older, that all seems slightly more appealing than carrying my stuff on my back.

I still love my backpack but for the travel I do now, a 42-liter rolling suitcase suits my needs.

What I Pack as a Full-Time Traveler

After 18 years of travel, one might think that my possessions have gone through a series of transformations based on my travel style or needs. Well, apart from some more advanced technology that I carry today, things really aren’t too different now than from 1999 or 2003 and so on.

I’m not sure if I should be happy, embarrassed or sad about that.

Anyway, here is the complete list…

The Main Bag

3 pairs of shorts (one gray, one blue, one orange as I spend significant amounts of time in hot weather)

1 swimsuit (if there’s a beach nearby, I’m going…I actually had 2 swimsuits but some coconut oil leaked through my daypack last month and caused the red material of the bag to stain the swimsuit, so that one had to go)

2 pairs of jeans (1 blue, 1 black…I’ve tried wearing actual pants but always prefer my jeans in the end)

9 t-shirts (might sound like more than I need, but this full-time traveler spills a lot of soup on his t-shirts so I always need backups)

1 button down short sleeve shirt (I love this shirt but only really wear it when I need to look a tad more dressed up, which isn’t too often actually)

1 button down long sleeve shirt (I’ve been carrying this one around for the past 1.5 years and haven’t worn it once)

1 sweater (a recent purchase from when I was in Sweden last month and it was quite cold outside…haven’t used it since)

1 navy zipper hoodie (I wear this ALL the time…in fact, I probably should wash it soon)

Travel towel (I don’t know…about twice per year I find myself dripping with water and without a proper towel around…that’s when this thin travel towel comes to the rescue)

7 pairs of socks (you can’t wear flip-flops in European cities during the summer, you’ve got to put on some socks and shoes!)

8 underwear (yup, I do wear underwear and only one has a hole in it, I think)

1 pair of sandals (after spending many years only wearing Crocs Modi Flips or Hurley Phantom Free flip-flops, I recently purchased a pair of Sole sandals…oops, big mistake and when I get back to the US in a couple of weeks, I’ll be going back to one of my favorites)

1 pair of New Balance shoes (I’m a New Balance person – they’re comfortable, durable and they have an “N” for “nomad” on the side)

Sarong (the one thing I know I’ve carried with me from day 1 as a full-time traveler…it plays so many roles – sheet, beach blanket, bag, sweat rag, clothing, etc)

Amazon basics laundry bag (super sturdy, rolls up into nothing and well, pretty much does what you’d expect)

Shoe brush (with only 1 pair of shoes, they can get dirty, so from time to time I give them a scrub down…unfortunately, it doesn’t help remove the car oil stains that I somehow got on my shoes)

Bar of soap (some guesthouses/hotels/hostels/apartments don’t provide soap and I’ve realized this way too many times after getting under the water in the shower…so, I carry my own just in case)

Ohuhu toiletry bag (the best one I’ve found by far…fits everything, remains compact and is super easy to clean…why I need to carry around 3 things of deodorant is a different story)

Philips electric toothbrush (last year I made the switch to an electric toothbrush and naturally, it was a great decision… here’s a tip for travelers though…I went with Philips because it can be charged anywhere overseas…the ones from Braun require a voltage converter)

Contact lenses and contact lens solution (kind of a necessity)

Bag of money (not as exciting as that sounds…just a pile of currency from countries I think I might visit again soon…or just a pile of money that is getting dirtier and smellier as time goes on)

Small medicine pack (ibuprofen, Claritin, paracetamol…actually, I can’t find this thing right now so I might have lost it)

2 tiny tin boxes (no idea what I’m going to do with these things, probably just carry them around for a few years)

The Small Bag

In terms of a small bag, a couple of years ago I made the switch to a Timbuk2 messenger bag. For me, it’s more comfortable and holds everything I need in a more organized manner. And it’s red, which apparently nobody wants, because it was on sale for about 50% off the regular price.

Here’s what’s inside:

MacBook Pro laptop (can’t travel/work without it, and after 5 years, it’s still going strong)

Kindle (lately I haven’t been reading as much as I wish but do you have any book recommendations?)

Samsung Galaxy S7 (it’s my phone and my camera these days)

Credit card holders (I don’t use a wallet…I stuff money and the cards I need each day into my pocket…what I don’t need, I keep in these two things…no idea why I don’t use a different system…any good travel wallet recommendations?)

Pouch for SIM cards (when I saw this felt pouch in a tiny store in Karakol, Kyrgyzstan a few years ago, I thought to myself, “That would be a perfect SIM card holder”…well, not quite like that but I liked the pouch and that’s what it has become)

Symphonized NRG 3.0 earbuds (My Symphonized earbuds are one of my best ever gear purchases…for $25, the sound quality is simply awesome and as a bonus, I actually just used them last night as ear plugs due to the barking dogs and naying horses outside the window – don’t ask)

Business cards (Ah yes…I’ve been carrying around a couple of hundred business cards since 2012 and have probably handed out a grand total of 9)

ButterFox electronic gear case (it all fits inside – chargers, wireless mouse, small HDMI cable, plug adapters, laptop screen cleaner and these colorful little rubber twisty tie things that I thought would be useful but which I’ve never used)

And finally, I also carry around…

Passport (completely worn out, partly torn and with three extra sets of pages inside, two of which are sewn in and one which is taped in…talk about suspicious)

Yellow Fever certificate (only needed to use this once but good to have)

Sunglasses (for the first 35 years of my life, I never wore sunglasses but the last 5 years, I’ve worn them almost every day)

Pen (high-quality little pen I bought at a random pen shop in Singapore about 4 years ago)

USB stick (no idea what’s on this thing)

That’s everything!

Total weight:

Suitcase – 11 kg / 24 lbs Daypack – 5 kg / 13 lbs

And while all of the above might sound like a significant amount of stuff, here’s what it all looks like when nicely packed up:

Final Notes on Packing Carry on or checked luggage?

My current setup, whether with the backpack or suitcase, can always be taken as a carry-on. I usually take it as a carry-on if I am flying direct. If I have a layover somewhere, I check my backpack or suitcase simply because I don’t like to lug it around the airport. But I’ve never had any issues with size or weight when taking it as a carry-on, including on many budget airlines in Europe, Asia and Africa.

The good and the bad of packing light

Pros: My life fits into one small bag. It’s pretty simple, everything I need as a full-time traveler is right there and I can pack up and go in minutes if I’m being chased by local authorities …um, or I just suddenly decide to head to a new destination. There is also a sense of freedom involved with having such few possessions and having that ability to move around the globe so easily without having to think of what to do with excess stuff.

Cons: On the other hand, sometimes I wouldn’t mind some extra stuff. Another shirt or another pair of shoes, for example. I don’t need them but when you’re on the road for this long, some added variety wouldn’t hurt. Also, whenever I see something that I’d like to purchase, something that would look great in my home, I have to remind myself that I’m a full-time traveler that lives out of my suitcase and that there is no room in there for cool Moroccan lamps or a hand-woven Pakistani carpet.

Packing cubes

A friend and I have been going back and forth recently about the benefits of packing cubes. He sees a ton of benefits. I see zero benefits. I know they’re a popular thing but when a bag is all packed up with packing cubes, to me it just looks like my suitcase when it is all packed up, except that there are these cubes that now need to be opened in order for me to reach my stuff. Why have that extra step?

Is the above really all I own?

Pretty much, yes. I do have one box in a closet at my mom’s place that is filled with some extra clothes and a few gifts I’ve purchased for myself while traveling but I haven’t looked at it in a long time. It’s probably full of bugs. Apart from that, all of my possessions are literally in my suitcase and messenger bag.

So, the question is, could you live out of a suitcase? How do you pack, or think you’d pack, for your travels?