#one of my favorite boards and will undoubtedly be one of my favorite stills too

[spookberry]

Ficklest teen girl friend group of the century

[daisybianca]

pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: once a week, you and your boyfriend organize a boarding-games-tournament. today, however, things have changed. because you don't compete in a funny strategy activity, but a sex game.

warnings: mentions of sexual activities

(a/n): I didn't have time to write a longer chapter due to exams, so please leave a comment if you liked this one shot and want a second part (because you will surely realize it is needed if you proceed on reading) <3

SATURDAYS WERE UNDOUBTEDLY your favorite part of the week because of the fact that you got to spend it solely with your boyfriend, spending your time together while devouring delicious pastries, laughing your buts off, and enjoying your limited but precious time together.

Lewis took a sip of the orange juice that he made for the two of. Then, he gestured you to do the same, as well.

Bringing the glass an inch away from your nose, you turned to the man standing beside you on the velvet carpet. "Is drink poisoning a thing? Google it just in case you have to mention it to the doctors later."

Lewis flashed on of those wide, astonishing smiles and emptied the liquid out of the glass in a matter of seconds. "I guess that I'll have to koin you as well," He placed the empty glass on his side, a little further just in case he does a fast moment and drips it over. "If something happens to you, it happens to me too." He grabbed the glass and pressed it to your lips. "Drink it, (y/n)." He instructed, and you did as you were told, but the liquid failed to pass to your stomach as his brown, intense eyes were fixed on your. "Shallow, my love. Shallow." Lewis whispered, making me shiver for some kind of reason.

He loved to tease you more than anything else.

You weren't sure if you hated or adored it.

You swollen the tiny sip, realizing that it's more tasty than anything you could've imagined.

"Hmm...?"

"It's good. I like it," you placed the glass down and a small Christmas bag appeared out of nowhere in Lewis' hands.

"What's that?"

You leaned in to grab it, but your boyfriend clicked his tongue unapprovingly. "No, not so fast." He growled and looked at you.

"You're going to make me beg for it or...?" You joked and laughed to yourself, but for the very first time, Lewis didn't join you.

And that freaking terrified you.

"Not yet, my love." He opened the red and white bag widely and pulled a wide box out of it.

With a very first glance, it looked like a boarding game. However, the moment Lewis placed it on the carpet in front of you, you realized it was more than just that.

It was a game. Not exactly a boarding one, but still.

It was a game for couples.

And the cover read 18+ in red letters, making your heart roar in your chest.

"Every Saturday, we have our boarding games tournament, right, my love?"

"Yes." You replied, forcing the air that couldn't escape from your lungs.

"Tonight, it's going to be a little different." He smiled and scratched his neck. "I saw this online, and the first thing that came in my mind was you."

"The weird thing would be not to think of me..." You exclaimed and you both laughed for a brief moment.

"So, we have a few challenges that we may or may not accept. Some of them are tricky, others are quite ordinary..." He struggled to find the correct words for a second. "... and there are also some spicy ones. Okay?"

Locking eyes with him, you nodded positively.

This is going to be interesting...

Lewis unwrapped the thin layer of protection that guarded the box and opened it, revealing a few cards. Some of them were red, others were hued white, while other were a deep shade of green with white letters.

They all had a similarity, however. On the one side of them, they were all black so that we could not detect a special category of them.

Setting the box away, Lewis set the cards and mixed them up a little. Afterward, he turned them around in order to not be able to read the questions on them, even though you tried glancing over them for a moment.

"So... who's first?" You questioned, despite the fact that yoy already knew Lewis was going to let you upon it first.

"All yours, baby." His thick accent echoed like a temptation calling your name, as he montioned to the cards.

Closing tour eyes tight, you placed your hand on the pile of cards and picked the second one.

The paper was hued green, therefore it was a tricky one.

You read it aloud, and you could feel Lewis' eyes fixed on you the entire time. "Reveal the first two people you last called."

Lewis smiled. "Damn, that's a tricky one? Baby, you don't have to do that if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay." Bringing your phone from the kitchen's table, you opened the phone app and hand the mobile to Lewis.

The first two were him and your father.

You had nothing to hide. He trusted you and you trusted him, too.

A freaking game wasn't going to change that, for God's shake.

Lewis picked a second card, which was also green.

"Explain the two favorite things of your partner's body and face." He laughed and groaned. "That's too easy, my love. The guy who made these didn't even try."

Laughing, you crawled to him, embracing his massive body. He glanced at you and placed you in his lap.

"I need an answer, Mr. Hamilton."

"Well," He touched tour cheeks and moved to your lips. "I like yours lips. I have told you that before, haven't I, my love?" He muttered, and his eyes lit up.

"Yes, many times, baby."

"Apart from that, your eyes were always my favorite, though." He placed a small peck on your lips, and you went in for more. "You know how much I adore eye contact." He added, and you instantly knew what he meant.

That was why he said he needed eye contact while having sex. It was one of his favorite parts of the whole thing. He had admitted to it before.

"Shall I continue, Sir?" You asked and he seemed to bite his lips for a second as his strong hands cupped your whole body.

God knew how much he loved it when you used the word sir while talking to him.

It could be funny when other people called him that way, but with you...

It was very, very different.

He got hard just at the thought of your tongue pronouncing this exact word.

After his nodding, you went for the next card.

You pulled slightly away from him so that he couldn't read it.

The color of the card made your heart stop in your chest for a moment.

It was red. Just like the blood turning ice in your veins at that moment.

You read that. But not out loud.

Lewis' expression grew concerned. "What is it, my love?" He tried to take a look at your card, but you pulled away from his lap. "(y/n), read it out loud. You are freaking scaring me. It's just a game, and--"

He didn't get to finish as you interrupted him. "Have your partner seated and make them watch you pleasure yourself in front of them. They must not touch or do anything else that includes physical touch between the two of you. If they give in, you get to choose a punishment for them and apply it on them anytime."

Lewis' face remains frozen while you read, but as soon as your gaze rose and fell upon him, his eyes widened.

He knew that the next minutes were going to be the very death of him.

[mouwrites]

HEYYY CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS!!!! CAN I REQ A ROYAL AU! WITH LLOYD PLSPLSPLS ( https://pin.it/70wi1S4JA ) - pinterest board, THANKS AND CONGRATS AGAIN!!!!

YAAY thank you!! Also… Royal au!! One of my favorites :D You’ve got good taste my friend!

Word count: 1.3k

Ninjago - The Ball (Lloyd) (500 follower event)

You could hear the music starting up again in the ballroom. It was a faint noise, but in the massive, silent corridors of the castle it seemed much louder.

You glanced over your shoulder in the direction of the ballroom, considering heading back for a moment before sighing and continuing to walk away from the room.

It had only been a few hours, but you’d had quite enough of the ball. Maybe it was the fact that it was the third one that month, maybe it was the way those old generals never stopped blabbing about war and fighting, maybe it was the pretentious smiles of every lord and lady in your presence; whatever it was, you couldn’t stand it.

And so here you were, wandering the halls of your castle in your luxurious ball gown, all alone, lost in thought.

You clasped your hands behind you, enjoying the feeling of your smooth skirt against your wrists. It was a rather nice gown, the kind that truly belonged out on the dance floor, swishing and swaying with movement. You had to admit it was a shame you wouldn’t be dancing tonight, but not enough of a shame to make you turn back.

You came to a door that led out to a balcony, and you pushed it open to enjoy the breeze. You found yourself drawn out into the night, tempted by the refreshing scent of the outdoors and by the stars freckling the night sky.

You closed your eyes, walking slowly until you felt the stone railing against your waist. Taking a deep breath, filling your lungs with that cool, sweet air, you felt yourself relaxing more than you ever could in the presence of anyone in that ballroom.

“Princess Y/n?”

You nearly toppled over at the sound of the voice, and your eyes flew open to see someone lunging at you.

You took a quick step back; a foolish move, since you’d turned around and your back was partially facing the edge of the balcony.

Your back folded over the stone railing, and for a moment you were horrified at the realization that you were about to tumble over it.

That was, until a firm hand gripped your forearm and yanked you forward into an embroidered tunic.

Your face was smushed into the stranger’s shoulder, but you didn’t move, still in shock at what had just happened.

“Are you alright, Princess Y/n?”

You finally pulled away, looking up at your savior. An angular face softened with concern stared back at you with eyes so green that you could see their hue even in the darkness.

“Y-yes, quite,” you murmured, looking over your shoulder to make sure there was room to step back before carefully doing so.

The stranger was still holding your wrist. You both seemed to notice this at the same time, and your hands darted behind your backs bashfully.

“Thank you,” you said more clearly, attempting to compose yourself.

The stranger smiled. For some reason you felt that you recognized that smile, and you cocked your head while you thought about it.

Oh, I know! But… he can’t be… can he?

“Emperor Garmadon?”

The stranger gave a chuckle, cheeks coloring while he shook his head, making his blonde locks sway.

“He’s my father.”

That… makes more sense. It had been a very long time since you’d seen the emperor, but from your memory he was rather old, even way back when you met the man. But this was undoubtedly his son; the shape of his eyes, the smile, the regal, angular face…

“I didn’t know he had a son.” You weren’t sure why you said that. Maybe it was to distract yourself from examining him too closely.

“Not many people do. Lloyd Garmadon, at your service,” he bowed respectfully, taking your hand and planting a kiss on your knuckle.

“Might I ask, if it’s not too invasive,” he continued once standing straight again, “what you’re doing away from the ball? It is your party, after all.”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You offered a wan smile, which Lloyd returned awkwardly. You both seemed to understand what the other was doing, since you were both doing the same thing: escaping the party.

Lloyd shook his head. “My father can be… overbearing at times. Especially when he’s in a room with people to impress. He’s gotten better about it, but… he’s still him.”

You couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Oh, I know all about that. It’s not just Emperor Garmadon. You should meet some of those generals in there—they could talk about themselves for eons.”

Now it was Lloyd’s turn to laugh. “It’s a shame, though. Missing the party, I mean. I don’t mind the other things—the food, the music, the dancing… it’s just my father that’s… difficult.”

“You can still hear the music in the corridors,” you offered helpfully, tilting your head towards the door. “Shall we?”

You both went inside, at first disappointed by the silence but then satisfied by the starting up of a new song.

“Oh, this one’s my favorite,” Lloyd sighed wistfully. “The first dance I ever learned.”

“I haven’t done this one in ages,” you admitted.

“I can lead.”

You blinked at him, taken completely by surprise. But the way he was smiling at you with those vivid green eyes… you were enchanted, and suddenly your hand was in his, and he was guiding you through the steps.

The soft sounds of your shoes clicking and clothes rustling were almost enough to overpower the quiet music, but it gave the moment an intimate charm that neither of you minded one bit.

You stared into those green depths, falling deep into some kind of spell. Little did you know he was falling into a spell, too, by looking into your e/c eyes.

When the song came to an end, it felt at once as though an eternity had passed and as though no time had passed at all. You were both breathing heavily from the movement, but now you stood still as ice, huffing, still staring into each others’ eyes above flushed cheeks.

“You’re very beautiful,” Lloyd said. It was more of an observation than a compliment. It was genuine. You figured that’s why it made your heart flutter in a way that no praise from the lords and ladies of the court could.

“Your eyes are enchantingly green,” you said in turn, just as objectively.

You smiled at each other, still not realizing how intimately you were standing. You hadn’t moved since the dance ended, so you were still mere inches from his chest, and his hand was still on the small of your back, and his other hand still held yours.

“My Lady!” Someone gasped, making you both jump. You practically flew away from each other, turning red as beets.

It was your personal maid. She carried a basket of laundry on her hip, and with the other hand she was hiding a smile. “Oh my,” she muttered.

“I was just heading back to the ball!” You blurted, striding towards the ballroom with sheer embarrassment fueling your steps.

“As was I,” Lloyd mimicked you.

“I won’t tell,” you heard her whisper as you whisked past, and you sent her a brief look of gratitude.

As determined as you had been to hide your embarrassment by returning to the ball, you still found yourself hesitating at the edge of the open door.

Lloyd came up behind you, standing close enough that your shoulders brushed.

“I’ll go if you go.”

“We’ll go together,” you suggested, smiling innocently.

Lloyd returned the smile, offering his arm. “Perhaps the rest of the ball won’t be so bad.”

“Perhaps,” you giggled, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow and venturing back into the crowd.

Thank you so much for participating in our event!! And thanks for reading, take care loves <33

(divider by saradika)

[fleabagsjoy]

Ok so i just binge-watched Oniisama E (Dear Brother) and i have.... thoughts. And feelings.

(SPOILERS AHEAD!)

Not super eloquent ones, I don't have any type of degree or formal education on writing or media analysis, i'm just word vomiting what i think and feel without any sources or facts to back it up so i hope that's okay. And i feel like i should preface with the fact that i didn't actually watch the last four episodes because i dreaded having to sit through Kaoru and Mariko ending up with men idgaf about, and instead read a summary of those last four episodes on Wikipedia.

With that being said, i absolutely loved this anime, i had already watched Revolutionary Girl Utena and everyone who enjoyed that one was talking about this anime so i figured I'd give it a try too and i don't regret it at all. The characters, the setting, the ANIMATION, the main plot and subplots (some of which i enjoyed more than others), i enjoyed it all.

I don't want to point out the obvious about the ending, we all know. But i was prepared, went in with the mindset of completely ignoring eps 36-39, specially the "Real Love is Heterosexual Love" speech that it pulls in the last couple episodes, so i'm not that upset by it. I will say that putting "you will only know what true love is when you find a man for yourself" is some twisted, sexist and lesbophobic stuff to put in an anime where Nanako, Rei and Mariko canonically fall in love with girls and whoever came up with that will not be seeing the pearly gates of heaven. And if that wasn't enough, they had to make the girls end up with men because uuhhh i guess they have to! But anyways, i still read the summary of what happened in those last four episodes.

I read a review from 3 years ago by medivhtirisfal that mentioned this and i'm so glad i'm not the only one but this really reminds me of a series of books that i used to collect when i was younger about an all girls boarding school and all types of adventures and mischief they got up to (the St. Clare's series) and i guess part of me always craved more of that. Oniisama E scratched that itch i suppose, i'll always crave all female casts and to see interactions and relationships that form between them, all types of relationships really: sisterhood, platonic, romantic, sexual, healthy, toxic, simple, complex... women stories matter! And i love when they're the center and backbone of the plot.

Now back to the actual anime. I haven't read the manga yet, don't think i will for a while even though i do like the mangakas artstyle from the few panels i've seen. But like i mentioned, Oniisama E reminds me of those books i used to collect, it's a string of events that happen during the first school year at an all-girls academy of our main character Misonoo Nanako.

It was very satisfying to see Nanako be a bit more submissive when everything and everyone was new to her vs. becoming more confident in her decisions and standing up for herself and others she cares about later on. She was always very caring for others, but i do feel like she let herself be shoved around in the first few episodes so seeing her stand up for Rei against Fukiko and quit the Sorority because of her loyalty not just to Mariko, but to herself and her values, made her one of my favorite characters. Also who can't relate to falling in love with Rei... Asaka Rei was undoubtedly one of the reasons that got me to watch the anime.

I gotta prepare myself before i write a paragraph for her because wow... too much to unpack. I can't elaborate better than some other Asaka Rei understanders about the intricacies of witnessing her own mother take her life in front of her daughter, after telling her to protect and take care of Fumiko, and how that pressure of committing to her mother's final wish lead to Rei's confusion of feelings for her own sister, devoting her everything to her, even her life. I suspect never dealing with the loss of her mother properly is what lead to Rei's severe depression and inability to understand all types love and bonds that she could have with other people, seeing Fukiko as her beginning and end from that moment.

Needless to say that, as much as i wanted her to realize this and free herself from this torment so she could deal with her trauma properly, she had to do it by herself so she could gain some sense of self and build an identity outside of someone she worshiped for so long and SPECIALLY before getting into a relationship with anyone (r.i.p. nanakorei). She's the most tragic character in this story to me, all of this started at a very young age and she had no way to get out of it and when she got close to that, the plot decided to say NOPE. NO CHANCES OF A HAPPY ENDING FOR YOU. Bottom line is: she desperately needed therapy. Veeery early on.

I have to follow up with Ichinomiya Fukiko, a really toxic and abusive teenage girl with too much power over the other girls at school, she lives in a bubble built for incredibly rich people (as do many of the other characters), leader of the Sorority (an academy "elite club"). One of the best things about shoujo ai like this is that all female characters are so fleshed out and have so much to give to the viewers and Fukiko is no exception. I will say that i fail to see a character that has so much (negative) impact on most of the other main characters as she was very often abusing/taking advantage of/humiliating others.

It's definitely because of her upbringing but she always bottled up her feelings to keep up a façade of composure, with Nanako's constant defiance, after confronting her feelings for Henmi and her relationship with Rei, as well as after the abolition of the Sorority, we gradually got to see different sides of her. She's... complicated. Not an evil mastermind or anything, her attempts of sabotage seemed very desperate adn half-hearted, but she could still be very cruel and take advantage even of people she claimed to love. Still, Fukiko was one of the main driving forces of the story and i can always appreciate a character like that.

Of course that leads me to Orihara Kaoru! She is probably one of the most consistent characters in the anime, loyal, determined and resolute, very sure of where she stands, oh my god... i'd crush on her so hard too if i was one of the girls at the academy. I loved the relationship she had with Rei, the soulmateism was off the charts, they had an incredibly intimate bond that no one could replicate and, besides Nanako, i felt for her the most when Rei passed away. I'm pretty sure her having to face the past between her and Henmi was also a big part of her character but again, i really don't wanna witness how that ends so i'm not gonna elaborate too much on what happens in the last four episodes, which is unfortunate because i'm sure a lot of her own development as a character happens in those but whatever...

I didn't expect this when i started Oniisama e but Shinobu Mariko is my favorite character!! It took a while for her to grow on me but i love her a lot. Mariko is mostly known for the misandrist lines (which... real) and i appreciate that she never really changed that (until #those episodes but i won't consider them strictly canon for my sake), but she had such a great story arc with facing her loneliness and facing the problems she had with her parents. I'm no psychologist but BPD is heavily implied and from what i've seen by other fans with BPD, a lot of symptoms were shown throughout the anime, which i appreciate since Mariko wasn't villainized and was instead shown as someone with her own issues with boundaries and relationships at first but that she could manage and balance in a healthier way later on... it's not something you can easily see in anime, specially not from this time. I was really happy when Mariko, Nanako and Tomoko became a great friend trio who could rely on each other halfway through, another testament to her character development.

Tomoko was one of my favs as well! A lot of other characters were very interesting and had important moments in main characters arc like Misaki and Henmi. It's been a while since i've seen an older shoujo but the animation and editing was fascinating to me, very gorgeous, over the top sometimes but we need that! What happened to that! Anyways it's very beautiful, i appreciate it. The intro song will stick with me too and the damn Academy bell... Very melodramatic, but very fun, it's a hit for me!

I'm still grieving Rei so i can't really face anything that happened in eps 33-35. We're past making the lesbians suffer, NANAKO AND REI DESERVED THEIR DATE ON THE BEACH!!

I fear i will be upset by that for the time being but hey, that's what fanfiction is for.

[fleurcareil]

East Quebec: East Gaspesie

The wildfire smoke was slightly reduced when driving into the Gaspesie but it was still almost impossible to see the undoubtedly pretty landscape of hills and the sea. Before heading to the hotel, I visited Miguasha National Park, which is another UNESCO world heritage site known for its cliffs full of Devonian fossils from the Age of the Fish. This was also when the first reptiles developed, being able to walk on land but not able to lay eggs with a hard shell yet, so this is the period immediately before the one at the Joggins fossils site I had visited in Nova Scotia... love it when things are connected 😀. I walked around the exhibits and a viewpoint but the smoke made it unattractive to go down to the cliffs themselves. I did use the parking lot to get out all the wet stuff from the night before to dry it in the wind and repack my car properly. All set again! In the evening, I treated myself to a cheese and charcuterie board 😊 as consolation for the less than ideal day.

Next morning the smoke was gone and instead a big blue sky 🎉 which made the drive along the south Gaspesie coast beautiful as the road is for the most part straight next to the sea. It did move slowly though as it's a long string of villages with local traffic sometimes crawling (e.g. driving 50 in a 80 km/hr speed limit zone 🙄) so had plenty of time contemplating... (the lack of) Canadian gardens 😅. Many Europeans are surprised at how little effort Canadians make on creating attractive gardens with flowers, shrubs etc, and it's still something that catches my eye wherever I go (it making for quite boring villages when driving through) but I developed two theories for the reason why. First, I believe Canadians already spend so much effort raking leaves in fall and snow shoveling in winter that they really don't want to spend working on the garden all summer too except for basic lawn mowing (which is a favorite pastime, with many mowing every week!). Secondly, I think there's also a desire to create a controlled environment (by ways of a perfectly manicured lawn) around the house as a way to mentally balance against the wild nature around it... with moose, bears and anything else running around like they own the place (which they really do), having a little patch of "humanized nature" makes us feel more secure... am curious to hear from my Canadian friends whether they agree! 😄

Anyways, I did eventually arrive at one of the highlights of my trip so far; the Île-Bonaventure-et-du-Rocher-Percé National Park, located at the east end of the Gaspesie. The boat tour started towards the famous Rocher Percé, which already had some first sea birds perched on the cliffs, however the numbers drastically increased when we circled around the island of Bonaventure, which houses the largest Northern Gannet colony in North America, estimated to be 92,000 this year. In addition, there's also a lot of smaller black-white sea birds like the common murre, black-legged kittiwake and razorbill (called "little penguin" in French as it looks similar).

Hard to see, but literally every ledge and nook is crammed with birds, with seals swimming in the waters below 😍

Having 3 hours on the island before catching the boat back, a little hike brings you to the other side where the sight of all the nesting birds is incredible... this is the only period that the gannets are on land, returning each year to the exact nest where they encounter their partner to lay one egg, after which they stay all year on the water until the next breeding season. The birds go about their business of nest making, courting & fighting without a care about the people...I also saw 4 little chicks peeking out under their parent's belly, although they're still too little to leave the nest.

Back at the jetty, great to just soak in the gorgeous weather until the boat arrives... perfect day! 🥰

In the evening, I met a woman in the hostel's communal kitchen (where I'm preparing salads for the next 2 camping nights) who also quit her job recently. We ended up taking about the war in Ukraine, Quebec's opposition to army conscription in the second world war, and everything in between. When we talked about cultural identity, she asked me to describe how my personal "pie of belonging" is split up... In her case, she felt 50% Quebecois and 50% international, so she had no affinity with being Canadian whatsoever... I probably need to think it a bit more through, but in first instance I would say I feel a third Dutch, a third international ("cosmopolitan" as I used to say when I was little 😍), a quarter Canadian (not Ontarian) and the remaining 8% French. It's quite interesting to consider!

The next day the coast is smothered in thick fog, so I take it easy and hang out a bit longer in the hostel writing the blog over a cup of tea, until I decide it's not getting any better. The Parc National Forillon is next door, so I soon start on a hike to the "Bout du Monde" or Land's End. However... I see a lot of people walking back towards the parking lot and it turns out that there's a bear with 2 cubs on the trail. The bears had walked away but they weren't sure whether they were completely gone. The family that came after me wanted to continue, so slowly we checked out the path ahead. I did see very briefly the mother bear look at me (through my binoculars far away) before it disappeared and then shortly after, two people came from the other way and said they had seen it go into the bushes. So we continued ahead a bit nervously (myself talking out loud to the bear explaining I wouldn't harm its kids 🤣, and the guys behind me humming songs) until I realised there were at least another 20 people on the trail - safety in numbers! Due to the fog, it truly felt Land's End...

Another short hike around two beaver ponds, but they weren't home and then another lighthouse & wild sea in the fog, before I started the 3-hour drive along the north Gaspesie shore to the west. The road required some attention as the first part is a rollercoaster up and down the hills but the sea views (no fog here!) were stunning. The second half is even more impressive as the road is squeezed between the cliffs and the sea as you drive from cove to cove. Having done groceries and taken gas (which is shockingly 27 cents/liter more expensive in Quebec than in Nova Scotia) enroute, I arrived at my campsite in Gaspesie National Park rather late, so I had a quick dinner (hooray for the salad I had already made 😊) and then off to bed.

Waking up with slight rain, I nevertheless decided to start the hike up Mont Xalibu early as it was supposed to rain more later in the day. At 9:30am already at the Lac aux Americains which is not surprisingly, fully engulfed by fog. I was a bit apprehensive about the hike as its 580m elevation gain and 10.4km length makes it the hardest I've done in the last few years, but it went surprisingly well - getting fit again! 😁 The top was an absolute wind & fog nightmare (luckily there was a little rock shelter) so unfortunately I missed the view, but still happy I went as the scenery was impressive with tundra-like lichen and stunted trees.

When I was back at the lake the fog has disappeared, so I finally got to see the landscape! Being done at 2pm I initially thought of going on another hike, but instead made myself a lovely cup of tea and visited a few viewpoints instead - after all, there's many different ways to experience nature. The last one - a 20k detour on an unpaved road to an observation tower - was a disappointment as there's supposed to be moose, which there wasn't 😒. In the evening it rains on & off, so sitting comfortably under a shelter drinking a beer while writing this... Canadian camping is luxury! 

In the morning I woke up in the rain again so simply put everything into the car and drove to Matane. On the way, I hung the stuff to dry at a municipal parking lot while drinking a cup of tea overlooking the sea... am getting the hang of this! 👌 Arrived two hours early for the ferry across the Saint Laurent to start my Labrador adventure, so typing this up in Tim Hortons. Today is exactly a month into my road trip, can't believe it! 💖💖💖

Wildlife: 13 seals, thousands of northern gannets & other sea birds (all at Perce/Bonaventure); 1 black bear (Forillon), 1 loon (Gaspesie)

SUPs: none

Hikes: one at Ile Bonaventure, two at Forillon, one at Gaspesie

Distance driven this week: 1290 km

[karunanadar]

Reply for @elifalvey

As always, Karuna’s enthusiasm was extremely infectious. It was one of the many things that Elijah loved about her friendship — and quite possibly the only thing that he affectionately hated, at the same time. She reminded him far too much of his baby sister, Cynthia; when she weaseled her way into his apartment, knowing that she’d achieved exactly what she wanted before he could even say yes, the resemblance was almost uncanny. Perhaps that was why his soft spot for her continued to grow larger and larger every time he saw her, and why his living space was slowly but surely filling up with décor that she left in her path. 

Despite how much it was growing on him, however, and how fruitless his effort to protest would be — especially now, that it was down on the end table where it’d likely stay forever — his mouth did open to try. One last time. Except before any words could come out, Karuna nailed his next point right on the head and he huffed in defeat. “You swear it was only ten bucks?” He would undoubtedly lament about her spending a fortune on something that he didn’t need if it weren’t, she was right. She knew him too well. “Okay, I will admit that the old one was broken and unusable, but you know that’s not my fault and if I could’ve kept it, I would’ve.” He pointed a finger as if that would help his point at all. “The cats would’ve hurt themselves on it, though, so that’s the only reason why it got thrown out, not because I needed a new one.” 

His argument was futile as Karuna reached forward and plugged it in, the lamp illuminating the room in a perfect way that screamed ‘this is what the room needed’, and he shook his head. “Fine — it’s a cute lamp! Are you happy now?” He laughed, extending his arm and pulling Karuna in for a half-hug against his side as he said, “Thank you, Karuna. I love it.” He broke away from her and started padding towards his open kitchen, making a beeline for his cabinet to grab two glasses. “Please tell me you’re staying for awhile. I was just thinking about getting some work done, but I’d love to have an excuse to . . .well, not.” A chuckle left his lips. “Do you want a drink? Water, soda, anything?”

"I swearrrr on my favorite signed book collection that it was only ten bucks," she answered with a dedicated look of seriousness. You always knew she meant it when she brought her precious books into the chat. And as Eli went through his stage of acceptance, Karuna gave a few supporting utterances of "mhhmm" and "exactly". Her grin widened because she knew she had him. She let out a squeal of delight when Eli admitted the lamp was cute and leaned in to the half hug with enthusiasm. There was never any sense of rejection with him, even if he was lovingly exasperated with her, there was always welcoming and acceptance in his hugs, and there were days she needed that so badly she thought she might collapse into dust without it. On days where her headspace went numb, went dreary and detached, Eli was one of the first people she reached out to. He was one of the first people she learned to say "I'm not okay right now" to. People like that, she had learned, were priceless, they changed your whole world. They deserved every beautiful lamp, every little piece of decor that might give the light to them that they gave to those around them.

"I'm absolutely staying," she answered, pulling out of the hug only to playfully spin her way to a clumsy and dramatic drop down onto his couch. "What are you in the mood for? Snacks and board games? I could go for absolutely murdering you in scrabble again. Or...tv binge extraordinaire? We have a couple shows to finish." Straightening in excitement, she eyed the direction of the kitchen. "Ooo do you still have cherry coke leftover from my visit last week? I could go for some carbonation right now."

[tefibetancourt]

estefania crystal betancourt was pulling off the heist of the century! the moment the door opened to phoebe’s smiling face, she was taking stock of her apartment. tefi had a critical eye for fashion and décor—though her taste was considered eclectic by people who didn’t understand her affinity for all things mid-century modern—but there was a secondary reason for her appraisal. she had been intensely curious about what phoebe’s interior life looked like, and just exactly how much foster was involved in it. blatantly looking around, it seemed the influence of her estranged husband was regulated to various accouterments strewn about the living room—a hoodie discarded there, a pair of shoes here, a picture on the shelf. much different than the shitty philly apartment she had shared with foster ten years ago, barely indistinguishable from a trap house and bordering on being condemned by the city. her own style was still developing then, but no rainbow curtain beeds or groovy velvet couch would distract from the peeling wallpaper or rusted faucets. she felt a stab of latent jealousy. phoebe and foster got to share a cute apartment with fairy lights and fluffy throw blankets? it hardly seemed fair.

other than a few pieces that were undoubtedly foster’s, it was obvious it was a girl’s apartment, and that made tefi feel a little safer. she could be a girl’s girl. she could be the fun one; the one that was always up for a night at the club or to go to a concert of a band she’d never even heard of before; the one that was adept at cheering anyone up with a ‘men ain’t shit’ gossip session over margaritas or aide in a bit of retail therapy to mend a broken heart, but no one ever seemed to want to do the same for her. tefi spent hours listening to her friends cry about their boyfriend cheating on them, or not being cast in some reality show, but her friends seemed to disappear into thin air whenever tefi had a moment of doubt about her future or when her parents once again told her she didn’t need to come home for christmas this year because they already bought tickets for a cruise to the bahamas. 

always good for a good time. and that was it.

so, that was what she planned on doing. she was going to turn on the charm, have some indoor fun, give phoebe a good time, and engage her sneaky subterfuge. “only the best board game ever invented! i know you’re all moon-eyed over your man, but you’re just going to have to forget him tonight because we’re finding you a new boyfriend with a pink plastic phone. it’s the version with chris evans modeling as one of the guys, too.” tefi giggled girlishly, then offloaded her bundle into phoebe’s awaiting arms, but kept her hold on the dvds. stepping further into the living room, she turned on her heel and fanned out the dvds in her hands. “i’ve got twilight, mean girls, sleepover—i know, a little on the nose, but it’s cute and nostalgic—desperately seeking susan, the sweetest thing, and one of my personal favorites, valley of the dolls.” movies across all genres and decades, tefi valued variety.

at the offer of drinks, tefi squealed lightly as expected of her, but there was an internal flash of panic in her chest. she was a notorious lightweight and getting super drunk could prove dangerous—she might let her secret slip, or overstep and seem a little too eager to discuss phoebe’s boyfriend. she needed to play it safe. “hmm, i’m feeling kind of chill tonight, i think. let’s start with wine and see where the night goes, maybe?”

Though their interactions had only been few and far inbetween — usually just passing each other as Phoebe was linking up with Seb as Tefi headed out to work — Phoebe really did like the waitress. She had this infectious, bubbly personality, and despite all the shit she had gone through, never seemed to let it get her down. The intern thought that was extremely admirable and, whilst she knew Seb and CJ were trying their best, really meant it when she offered to have a girl’s night at her place. Tefi needed somewhere less chaotic to relax on a night, and so long as Misty was distracted, Phoebe liked to think her place was the ultimate hub of calm.

Apart from a few touches that were primarily Foster, though evidence of him really only existed in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom, Phoebe often called her place the ultimate girl’s-girl hub. There were accents of pastels — pinks and yellows and lilacs — across the light space, different art pieces hung on the wall, throw blankets on almost every surface, fairy lights strung up in little crevices the paintings and pictures wouldn’t fit. There were a few plants; though most were fake due to her inability to keep them alive and worry of Misty eating them, dotted around, the bouquet of flowers Foster had got her from their date the night before sitting proudly on the coffee table, the small surface usually adorned with paperwork pushed to the seldom used dining table. There was a picture of her, Foster and Misty she had printed out and framed, pride of place on the bookshelf, next to the classics and rom-coms she bought second hand. Her guitar covered in its glittery stickers collected over the years stood in the corner by the TV; on as always, some show playing in the background. A scented candle was lit, Foster wouldn’t be back until well after Tefi had left (not that he cared if Phoebe had friends over, even if it seemed like he was only half listening as she sleepily told him her plans for the day as he got up for work), and there was plenty of wine. The only thing missing was the guest of honor herself.

As if on cue, the intercom buzzed and then not long after, a knock on the door. “Hi!” She greeted, “Oh my God, is that Dream Phone? I haven’t played that, in like, forever!” Phoebe reached to take the bundle from Tefi’s arms, scrunching at the compliment. She was in her rarely seen matching PJ’s for once; string tie pants and a little matching tank adorned in little strawberries. “Thank you, you look glamorous as always! And trust me, I get it, it’s why I tend to just meet them downstairs. Come in, come in.” She ushered her into the apartment. “Make yourself comfy; Misty is settled in the bedroom so you don’t have to worry about being potentially clawed. Bathroom’s just through there —” She gestured to the door near them, “And kitchen just in there. Drink? I have wine, vodka...I think I have those frozen cocktail pouches too? Whatever you want!”

[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[seriouslysnape]

Moonlight Dip

Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sexual content (super brief).

Word Count: 2,588

“We’re going swimming.”

Hogwarts was always desolate and quiet at this time of night. The only person who was supposed to be stirring was Filch, Mrs. Norris, and possibly Professor Snape keeping an eye out for any students who had grown bold enough to break curfew. Most students didn’t bother trying to sneak around the castle at night. Not because they were afraid of getting caught, but because if they DID get caught, they’d have to deal with Filch’s overly strict behavior. Honestly, that was a punishment in and of itself. 

Which was why Neville just couldn’t seem to figure out why you were leading him through the dark corridors, moving like a woman on a mission. You had crept into his dorm around midnight or so, pouncing on his bed and shaking him from his gentle slumber. You barely waited for him to wake up before you were whisper-shouting at him that you had somewhere for the two of you to go. He never minded a surprise visit from you, but he also wasn’t very keen on attempting to slip out undetected. Still, his curiosity won out.

“Hey, uh, flower?” He whispered, not knowing where Filch might’ve been.

“Yes, Neville?” You whispered back, peering your head around the corner to check for anyone coming. 

“Where are we going exactly? And why are you in your robes?” He questioned, feeling a bubble of nervousness in his chest.

Truth be told, Neville felt a little underdressed. He was clad in his pajamas bottoms and an old t-shirt that he only used to sleep in. You looked back at him with a smile, his heart leaping at how beautiful you looked under the illumination of the Lumos you had uttered from your wand. Neville had learned to be more spontaneous after he had begun dating you. You were as sweet and respectful as anyone, but you definitely had a wild side that sometimes shaved some years off of Neville’s life. He wasn’t sure what to think of it at first, but over time he found that he loved all of your silly shenanigans. Even the ones that had gotten you both in hot water before. 

“I told you, Nev. It’s a surprise!” You answered, squeezing his hand that was interlaced in yours, “It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you.”

Neville made a puzzled, yet thoughtful look as he racked his brain of possible ideas. He thought that maybe that you were daring to venture to Hogsmeade for a late night snack. Every now and again, you’d convince Neville to help you with sneaking into Honeydukes after hours to snag a few treats (don’t worry, you always left the right amount of money on the counter to pay for it). 

However, his theory was proven wrong when he realized that you were taking him past the courtyard and in the general direction of the Quidditch field. He was glad that it was well into spring now, and the nights were warm with the days. You didn’t play Quidditch though, and neither did he. So he couldn’t fathom why you were headed that way.

“The Quidditch fields are always dark this time of night. There’s no way we’ll be able to see.” Neville pointed out, mumbling under his breath when he almost tripped on a loose rock. 

You turned to look at him again, another smile plastering on your face. 

“Then it’s a good thing that we aren’t going there.” You replied.

Sure enough, you kept walking towards your desired locating, keeping your antsy boyfriend in tow. About the time that Neville had given up on trying to figure out where you were taking him, his question was answered. The lake was always so pretty at night, and tonight was no exception. The moon was only a phase away from being full, but still offering enough light to where the two of you could somewhat see. The reflection bounced beautifully off of the dark lake, creating glittering ripples in the water when it was agitated from it’s still position.

You let go of Neville’s hand once you were standing on the bank, crouching down to untie your shoelaces. Neville stood still, his arms at his side rather awkwardly. He wasn’t picking up on your plan just yet.

“I didn’t know that you like to fish.” Neville said aloud, not bothering to whisper anymore since there was no chance that anyone would be out here.

“I don’t.” You giggled, removing your shoes and socks.

Neville’s eyebrows raised, still oblivious even as your fingertips worked at untying the cord around your robes. Well, he WAS oblivious, until it was literally right in front of his face.

“Then why are we- oh my God, what are you doing?” He cut himself off when your robes fell to the grass, revealing your bra and knickers underneath.

Neville was glad that it was mainly dark outside, because his sudden deep blush would’ve been painfully obvious otherwise. You smirked at the bashful boy who was frozen in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

“We’re going swimming.” You announced, reaching for his hand again. 

Except he didn’t take your hand. He wasn’t on board with this idea at all.

“Oh no. No, no, no. I draw the line at swimming naked!” He rattled off, taking a step away from you.

You weren’t offended in the slightest, and you were even rather amused at his skittish behavior. This was nothing new to you.

“I’m technically not naked.” You reminded him calmly.

“You’re in your knickers!” He hissed back, his eyes widening as he actually took a second to look at the lacy material.

“Exactly. Which equals not naked.” You returned, fighting the urge to burst into laughter.

“Nope!” He protested, sitting down on the grass instead, “I’ve defended us for getting caught sneaking off for Chocolate Frogs and breaking into the library at 3 o’clock in the morning. But I will not try to explain why we were in the lake naked.” 

Neville seemed adamant about staying put where he was. He was tempted to get up and leave, but there was no shot in hell that he was going to leave you out here by yourself. He was perfectly fine with sitting off to the side and observing from a safe distance.

“You see me in my underwear all the time, Nevy,” You said, not really believing that the lack of clothes was what he was timid about, “Is it the ‘nakedness’ or the critters that sometimes live in the lake?”

Neville was frightened of a lot of things, and while he tended to love animals, aquatic animals were an exception. Fish and water-based bugs freaked him out for some reason that even you didn’t quite understand. The only animals that lived in and around water that he liked were frogs and toads. The only aspect of the lake that he might enjoy (aside from seeing you wet and half-naked) were the plants that were undoubtedly growing below the surface.

“Maybe both...” He murmured, resting his forearms on top of his knees that were pulled into his chest, “Regardless, I’m staying right here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, believing your intuition that said that he’d be in the water with you in less than fifteen minutes.

“Suit yourself.” You told him before making a graceful entrance splash into the water.

He watched as you plunged in, your entire frame disappearing under the water that looked black due to the inky color of the sky. Neville felt his nerves get fired up when you went under, a slight anxiety in his gut that you might not come back up. The lake wasn’t super deep by any means, only coming up to just below your hip. Neville knew that it was possible to drown in any depth of water, which was why he became a bit on edge.

Thankfully, though, you emerged from below the water before he could get too worked up. He watched with interest when your hands swept your wet hair backwards, slicking it on your head. 

Neville had always found you pretty. He thought you were the most beautiful girl on the planet. While he always thought that you looked stunning, there were still times where it was much more clear to him. For instance, early in the morning when you’ve just woken up is one of his favorites. Or right before a Gryffindor party on Friday nights when you’ve taken extra time to get spiffied up. Seeing you always made his heart beat with a little more purpose. It reminded him of how much he cared for and loved you. 

And this moment now really had him swooning.

His eyes studied as water droplets dripped from your frame, soaking into your underwear and gliding down your beautiful skin. It created a shiny gleam over you, bringing out all of his favorite parts of you. He must’ve fallen into a lusty daze, because he felt himself snap back into reality when you called to him.

“You sure you don’t want to get in?” You spoke, letting your fingertips trail over the surface of the lake.

Neville shook his head in response. 

“I’m good here, tulip. Promise.” He said, still not sure if this was something he wanted to do. 

You never pressured Neville into doing things he didn’t want to do. You never wanted him to be uncomfortable around you or associate discomfort with spending time with you. However, you knew that Neville was a worrier. He was an avid overthinker and sometimes just let his nerves get the best of him. You encouraged him to live a little more, without thinking about every single possible outcome of a situation. It’s great to be cautious and aware, but life without taking some risks could be...boring. You just didn’t want Neville to grow old with you and wish he hadn’t let his head get the best of him.

You swam out towards the middle of the lake, but not so far that you couldn’t see or hear Neville. You floated on your back and played with things that you found on the mushy, sandy floor of the lake. Neville maintained a conversation with you, but found himself feeling tempted to join you. It was just swimming. It wasn’t like the two of you were trying to blow up the lake or anything. 

“How does...how does it feel?” Neville asked, stifling a giggle at how you were bouncing on your feet with your head lolled to the side to get water out of your ear.

“It’s nice. It’s not warm by any means, but it feels good.” You told him, wringing the excess water from your hair, “Changed your mind?”

Neville chewed the inside of his cheek, but he was warming up to the idea.

“I don’t even have a pair of swim trunks with me.” He argued.

You motioned towards your own body with a look of hilarity.

“Oh, and I’m wearing my swimsuit? It doesn’t matter, love. Just take off what you have on.” You instructed, getting hopeful that he was actually going to do it.

Neville stood from where he sat, stripping down to his boxers at a snail’s pace. He folded his clothes neatly, setting them next to your robes that he had also folded previously. He dipped his foot into the water, expecting it to be much colder than it actually was. It was a lukewarm temperature, something that would be refreshing on a hot summer day, but far too freezing for a frigid winter day. For his moderate spring night, it was perfect.

Neville didn’t love how the bottom of the lake felt on his feet. It was a mix of a squishy, gelatinous feeling. You reached for his hands excitedly, taking them as he waded out to where you were standing.

“So, what do you think?” You wondered, careful not to freak him out too much,

“It feels...nice. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this lake,” He admitted, “How did you even come up with this?”

“Well, you told me once that your Gran used to have a little pond behind her house that you liked to swim in during the summer. You said you enjoyed it and I thought maybe this would be something you’d like too,” You explained to him, suddenly feeling insecure about this whole thing, “I know it’s probably not the same or as fun.”

Now things really started to make sense. Neville felt the cage of butterflies flutter all into his belly whenever you did something sweet for him. Especially when it was something with sentimental value. 

Neville had undeniably fallen in love with you. Not because of your witty personality or the random adventures you liked to take him on. Those things were plenty great, and he cherished those things with everything he had. But that wasn’t what made him decide that you were his future. 

It was the pureness of your heart.

He fell for you more and more each time you did something for him. Whether it was as small as you combing your fingers through his hair when he was asleep on your chest in the common room, or as big as the time you devised a plan to throw a surprise birthday party for him at his Gran’s house. No matter what it was, you never hesitated to spend your energy, time, and love on making him happy.

“I did always like that pond, flower. But...you want to know something?” He said smoothly, with just the faintest hint of shakiness in his tone, “This is a lot better.”

He pulled you in close at the sight of your brightening eyes, bringing you down with him as he sank down to his knees under the top of the water.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” You pressed on.

“Because you’re here.” He mewled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

His descent of kisses trailed down to your nose, to your cheeks, to your lips. His kisses were never rushed in moments like this. They weren’t ever in a rush to get to the point or so rough that he didn’t have a chance to feel it. He liked to take his time with you. He liked to savor you.

“I love you, Nev. I really do.” You professed once he pulled away from you.

“I love you, petal,” He returned, going to kiss you again, but stopped when he took a big swash of lake water to the face.

He let out a startled gasp at how he was totally soaked now. It dripped from his hair, droplets rolling to the tip of his nose before falling off back into the lake. He caught your mischievous expression, your cheeks puffed out as you fought your laughter.

“Really funny, doll.” He sputtered, nonchalantly reaching around to your back and unclasping your bra with one hand. He managed to whip it off of you with ease, leaving you completely naked on top.

“Neville!” You squealed, “Give it back! That’s my favorite one!” 

Neville teased you as he held your bra high in the air above his head, chuckling as you struggled (and failed) to get it back.

“Don’t worry, love bug. I’ll take good care of it. But if you want it...” Neville paused, shimmying past you and waddling further out into the lake with a sneaky, yet innocent sneer on his face;

“You’ve got to come and get it.”

*****

Tags: @lupinsslut @writingscape @msmimimerton​ @thefilmcity​

[fizzingwizard]

watching QI and Stephen Fry just said that PG Wodehouse was friends with Arthur Conan Doyle and based Jeeves and Wooster on the relationship between Holmes and Watson - one smart and one a “blitherer.”

And as I grind my teeth and feel happy to live in the era of reclaiming Watson from accusations of stupidity when compared to a man who can tell what part of London you’ve been in by the mud on your trousers, I turn to Google, which offers me the balm of “a thirty second sound bite from QI does not, in fact, tell the whole story” lol

(On the other hand, given that Fry was Jeeves, maybe he is more just having a laugh at Hugh Laurie? bahahaha)

under a cut for length

Here’s one with this fabulous description:

“Wodehouse’s most famous characters are undoubtedly Jeeves and Wooster — a twentieth century, self-absorbed Holmes and Watson, if they were divided by class and Watson’s bloodline had gone through a few more generations of in-breeding —”

buahahaha. Well, let’s consider that the inbreeding had more to do with the blithering than the Watson influence :)

But the rest of it is a very interesting article about Wodehouse as a German captive, and it’s pretty wow. And I went down a rabbit trail here feeling sympathetic for a guy who does come across as ignorant and bumbling, mainly because politics are boring:

“A news article was released at the same time, exacerbating the situation. Wodehouse stated, ‘I never was interested in politics. I'm quite unable to work up any kind of belligerent feeling. Just as I'm about to feel belligerent about some country I meet a decent sort of chap. We go out together and lose any fighting thoughts or feelings.”

I mean any day of the week I’d be on board with that quote. But not during war, not during times people are “meant” to be angry. And anger very much has its place. It really is a human dilemma: requiring everyone to be angry when there really and truly is something worth being angry about rejects the idea of people whose basic nature is peaceful. I guess you could say they were born in the wrong era, not that we get any sort of choice about it.

“The MI6 officer [in Paris] decided Wodehouse was merely ‘ill-fitted to live in an age of ideological conflict’”

that is so funny. and heart-breaking. not even about Wodehouse - about all the people in the world who are equally ill-fitted for the times, but still the times needs them...

When good people do nothing, we know what happens. But, on the other hand, among those good people is a whole lot of individual people, some of whom simply don’t want the inconvenience, and some of whom are really basically peaceful and developing a warlike mindset would destroy them. As always, humans don’t like humanity. We must fit into boxes - even the people who reject boxes do their best to fit everyone into different boxes. Because of pain - it’s hard to argue with pain.

Anyway back to Holmes and Watson, lol.

My favorite bits in this one begin with a Wodehouse quote:

“Usually we tend to discard the idols of our youth as we grow older, but I have not had this experience with A.C.D. I thought him swell then, and I think him swell now.“

Thanks for validating the idols of our youth for us old fogies who dare to continue to enjoy life past 25!

Oh this is great too:

“As a creator of comedy romances, Wodehouse’s detectives were permitted time off from the study of little known Asiatic poisons to relax at the Senior Bloodstain, and even to fall in love. A hardboiled crime writer could never permit such diversions, as we learn from Wodehouse’s fictional crime writer, James Rodman, in ‘Honeysuckle Cottage’.

‘He held rigid views on the art of the novel, and always maintained that an artist with a true reverence for his craft should not descend to goo-ey love stories, but should stick austerely to revolvers, cries in the night, missing papers, mysterious Chinamen, and dead bodies — with or without gash in throat.’”

take that, you hardboiled detectives you!!

So I found other comparisons of J&W and H&W as well, but nothing that went too deep. I think what I was hoping to find, and which may exist somewhere, is someone considering the role-flopping aspect: Watson is Holmes’s helper, but Holmes equivalent Jeeves is Wooster’s helper. That changes things a lot. If Jeeves were a woman, he might have been perceived by readers as a “nagging wife” sort, for instance. Whereas if Watson were a woman, his stupidity would be forgiven, but he’d definitely need a lot more rescuing from Dastardly Villains, - at least once per story and twice per novel ;)

I like thinking of J&W as Wodehouse going “I really need a Sherlock Holmes in my life to tell me what to do” and poof, Jeeves is born. I would say the same, except I hate to be told what to do :)

[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! I read your Jesper fic and it’s like my favorite that I’ve ever read honestly it was amazing! I was wondering if I could request a Jesper x reader where the reader is small and really sweet and he has a crush on her? And she like steals his clothes and he just gets rlly soft? Once again I love your writing have a great day/night and no rush!

hi there! we’ve talked over pm, but thank you again, those kind words mean the WORLD to me! i haven’t put my writing out there in a while, so this means a lot, thank you again :)

so i had a weird idea when i saw this when i woke up this morning. mind you, it’s been sitting in my requests for a few days, but i saw it and didn’t have a lot of ideas, but then inspiration struck me and brb i gotta cry over this. AHHHHHH

pairings! jesper x reader / kaz x inej ( being soulmates ) + nina x matthias ( also being soulmates ) + wylan van eck enjoying his pie

reader is again, gender neutral, but leans more female presented, BUT the pronouns they/their are used throughout

warnings! jesper and reader being the fluffest couple to walk the grishaverse, kaz endlessly shipping, kaz also pinning for inej, nina + kaz shipping reader and jesper, the crows in general shipping reader x jesper

word count; 3036 words

one-shot under cut!

this mood board was made by a friend and UGH IT TAKES IN THE FIC S O WELL!!! @r3tr0sp3ct !! thank you so much, SHFJD

5 WAYS TO TELL YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER YOU LOVE THEM

Courtesy Of Jesper Fahey, to my Dearest Y/N

5: Tease Them About How Short They Are

It was no secret that Y/N was the shortest of the crows. A mere five foot three, compared to the other Crows? They were short. Shorter than Inej by an inch or two, and by a foot compared to Matthias. Yet, it made them dangerous: able to move from place to place almost as swiftly as Inej. They were able to look unintimidating, when in reality, they could kill you, your family, and your relatives. They were able to lie their way through almost anything: another factor of people underestimating them. They were dangerous, which is why they were a part of the Crows after all. An asset, a leader even. Kaz saw them as valuable.

That didn’t stop the endless amount of teasing from the Crows though. And who had started it? Jesper Fahey.

First joining the Crows had been an impulsive decision, but one that Y/N didn’t regret. A family came with joining, and they’d lost theirs a pretty good time ago. What also came with joining was the teasing. Another day at the Crow Club, and Y/N, still relatively new to the Barrel life, was watching as Jesper gambled. They’d never understand the payoff of such quizzical acts of dumbness, but they stood there behind Jesper, confused.

Finishing the hand, Jesper glanced back at Y/N, chuckling slightly. Y/N’s eyes shifted, their glare at Jesper meeting him right in the eyes. It almost caused him to back down from what he was about to say, but he simply smirked the usual Jesper smirk. Flirtatious and bubbly. His hand swiftly moved, pulling Y/N to stand directly in front of him, the hand on their waist causing them to become flustered.

“You’re shorter than Inej,” Jesper inquired.

“I am not-” but Y/N didn’t finish their sentence. They’d already known such, but now Jesper was pointing it out. “So what?”

“It means I get to deem a new nickname for you! Inej would never let me call her anything related to her height, she threatened me with her knives. Or Kaz would glare at me, which scares me to say the least,” Jesper smiled now. He was going to have to find his way into Y/N’s good graces to fully engage in said nickname. They seemed conflicted for a moment, a pout making its way to their face.

“Does that mean I get to deem a nickname for you based on how tall you are?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow. They already had one in mind, considering Jesper was only a mere inch shorter than Matthias, the nickname still fit him.

“Well, that depends, Shortcake, what is your nickname for me?”

“Big Bear,” Y/N responded, smiling.

“Hmm, I like it. Shortcake and Big Bear. A powerful duo,” Jesper said, chuckling.

And thus, the teasing of how short Y/N was began.

4; Tell Them How Sweet They Are

The teasing didn’t stop there. Of course it didn’t. Because while the nickname ‘Shortcake’ was coined by Jesper, everyone had chosen new nicknames for how short Y/N was. Matthias called them Bubbles. Nina called them Babycakes. Wylan called them Munchkin. Inej called them Mini-me. And even Kaz had found a nickname for them; Firecracker.

But for Jesper, he wanted to find other ways to tease, or to tell Y/N what they meant to him, and low and behold, chance struck him. Eating with the Crows at one of the bakeries in Ketterdam, Y/N sitting next to Nina, with Jesper on their other side. Matthias sat next to Nina, squished between her and Inej. Wylan sat on the edge of the booth, opposite of Jesper, with Kaz sitting in a chair at the head of the booth.

Jesper glanced over at Y/N every once in a while, who was enjoying their creampuffs, he watched a bit of the filling be left on their lips. letting out a small chuckle, he watched Y/N turn toward him. “Hm?” They murmured, tilting their head. Sometimes Jesper wondered what someone like Y/N was doing in the Barrel. How Kaz had even found someone so sweet and kind roaming the streets.

“You got something a little-” Jesper raised his hand, his thumb brushing the pastry filling from Y/N’s lips. “There,” and with that, he chuckled before eating the filling. Y/N’s eyes had followed his hand the entire way, becoming flustered just as they had in the Crow Club just a few nights ago.

“That was my leftovers for later, Big Bear,” Y/N glared, their tone though was playful. The entire table now stared at them. Nina had a knowing look on their face, Matthias just seemed confused. Inej had let out a small laugh, Kaz’s eyes shifting to Inej upon hearing the sound. And Wylan? He just took another bite of his pie, his attention unwavered.

“Shortcake, you’re really telling me you would’ve saved any amount of those creampuffs as leftovers? I doubt it, they’re your favorite,” Jesper observed, making Y/N huff and taking another bite of a creampuff.

“They’re sweet and warm, of course I wouldn’t leave a single one for leftovers,” Y/N deemed, crossing their arms as they went to grab their last creampuff, but Jesper beat them to it, biting into it.

“Hmm, they’re not as sweet as you,” Jesper said, kissing Y/N’s nose, making them go cross-eyed with a smile.

“Hey! That was MY last creampuff!” Y/N said, coming to their senses after they realized Jesper had taken their last one. Before they could go to grab it though, Jesper raised it above his head. Oh, it was on. Before too long, Y/N was chasing Jesper out of the bakery, leaving the other Crows a laughing mess as they watched Jesper run, yelling for Y/N to catch him.

“Those two are soulmates,” Nina said, a wide smile on her lips as she watched Y/N practically topple Jesper onto the concrete, grabbing what was left of their creampuff and biting into it. Her eyes then shifted to Matthias.

“Soulmates.” Matthias agreed, smiling.

3; Save Them From The Bad Guy

Y/N was smart, Jesper knew that. They could probably give Jesper and Kaz a run for their money if they would like to. They were small, agile, talented. They were everything in Jesper’s eyes and more. But that didn’t make them any less susceptible to being overwhelmed during a job. They weren’t Nina Zenik. They weren’t Grisha, meaning if the right spots were hit they could indeed be overtaken.

But with Jesper by their side, that potential went down exponentially. Because whether Y/N believed it or not, and they did, Jesper would protect them with his life. They would do so for one another without hesitation. Which as Kaz put it: ‘is a dangerous prospect.’ The two didn’t care though. Well, in certain ways they did, but where was the fun in giving Kaz the satisfaction of thinking he was somewhat right? Answer: There was none.

Having just grabbed the package they needed during the job, Y/N and Jesper were about to be home free when they were spotted by the cashier, who undoubtedly worked for Pekka Rollins. Going eye wide, the two stared at the cashier for some time, and before they could come up with a Kaz level idea, the two bolted from the shop, Y/N’s hand in Jesper’s.

“We’re not dying today, Shortcake!” Jesper laughed over the commotion, the adrenaline of the job running through him as they ran.

“Hopefully not, Big Bear!” Y/N yelled, letting go of Jesper’s hand and breaking off from him. They were bigger targets together. Slipping through the crowds, Y/N ran as quickly as their legs could carry them. But speed could only make up so much when men who seemed twice your size were chasing after you.

Y/N knew Ketterdam well, but not Inej well. Not Kaz well. So when they came face to face with a wall that was too big for them to climb before the men managed to catch up, they scowled. Where the hell is Inej when you need her?

Turning to face the men who showed up, Y/N showed their hands. “Went after the wrong one,” They remarked, smirking. The men didn’t seem to be having it though, and as they stalked towards Y/N, a voice was heard behind them.

“And to think you’re usually the one saving my ass!” And then the three men fell, one bullet lodged in each of the men’s heads. Y/N looked up, smiling as they saw Jesper.

“Got the package?” Y/N asked, Jesper showcasing the bag of whatever it was Kaz had deemed they needed.

“I do, but I also have the most important package.” Jesper stepped over the bodies and took Y/N’s hand again, a wide smile on his lips.

“And what package would that be?” Y/N knew what he was going to say, but they wanted to hear it outloud

“Why you, of course!” Jesper winked, kissing Y/N’s forehead before they were off to bring the package to Kaz.

2; Let Them Borrow Your Clothes

Another night at the Crow Club, but something was unusual. Jesper was used to having a stalking Y/N behind him wondering how poker worked. This time though, they didn’t seem to be found anywhere in the Crow Club. It almost made Jesper not want to play. What was the point of playing if you didn’t have your lucky charm? There was no reason in his mind, especially as he began to have a bad streak of luck. So, standing from the table, he went to the booth Inej sat at, Kaz across from her.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Jesper asked, earning him a small smirk from Kaz, who simply glanced at Inej. He’d seen the newest Crow go to Jesper’s room while he’d gone down the steps. Kaz had been tempted to ask what they were doing, but he already had a feeling about what they were doing.

“They’re at the Slat,” Kaz said, deciding to rat out Y/N.

Jesper raised a brow. Weird. “Have fun you two! Inej, make sure he doesn’t come up with some more heist plans while I’m gone,” he joked, earning an eye roll from Inej. Turning from the table, he made his way out of the Crow Club, walking to the Slat and up to Y/N’s room, which was right next to his. Granted, they were really just tiny spaces meant to serve for the necessities. So, when Jesper arrived at their floor, he stopped in his tracks.

“Shortcake?”

Y/N turned, cursing as they realized they’d been caught. Instead of being adorned in their usual black attire, Y/N wore one of Jesper’s jackets.

“Listen, it was right there, it looked warm, I just really really . . . why are you walking towards me like that?” Y/N asked, watching as Jesper stepped towards them. If only they could see into Jesper’s mind, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was completely, utterly in love with the person before him. Letting out a gentle laugh, he kissed the corner of Y/N’s lips, earning him wide eyes.

“It looks better on you, although a little big, it’s perfect, Shortcake” Jesper said, in turn, he received a giddy laugh.

“Why thank you Big Bear. It is really warm, I may have to steal it,” Y/N remarked, crossing their arms and posing in the jacket for Jesper.

“You can’t steal it if I give it to you.”

“Hey! No fair. We’re criminals. I shall steal Jesper Fahey’s coat!”

“Mhm, now come on. I think you should show off your new attire at the Crow Club,” Jesper said, taking Y/N’s hand, but instead, they moved to stand beside Jesper, moving his arm so it wrapped around their waist.

When they arrived at the Crow Club once more, Inej glanced at Kaz, who now looked over his plans he’d been drawing out, his eyes on Y/N and Jesper.

“You’re so in on them being soulmates aren’t you?” Inej asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dearest Inej,” Kaz spoke quietly, making sure only she could hear.

1; Telling Them You Love Them

Whatever Jesper was planning, Y/N had a feeling it involved something big. They’d never seen him as frantic as he currently was. Then again, Jesper was a pretty frantic person at times, but still this probably took the cake for the most frantic. He had flowers, candies, creampuffs, not that Y/N knew all of that.

He was receiving different ways to tell people that you love them, and now he had no idea which one to go with. Nina told him pastries. Inej told him to simply be outright with it. Matthias told him some weird Fjerdan way they would do it. Wylan had shrugged, he’d never really been in love before. He hadn’t even DARED to ask Kaz for obvious reasons.

That left him with his own way of doing it. He wasn’t sure if Y/N would like it. He knew she’d like the cream puffs. But the candies? The flowers? Were they that kind of romantic?

It also didn’t help that when he’d asked everyone, he’d at first told them that he had feelings for Y/N, and they’d all replied that they knew. That didn’t help his nerves, because did that mean Y/N knew? Or were they just as oblivious as he was?

The night seemed simple enough - until it wasn’t.

The flowers didn’t smell right to Jesper, so he threw them out. The candies, as Nina revealed, were Y/N’s least favorite. The only thing he still had by the beginning of the night were the creampuffs. But he wanted to do this right. He had to do this right.

Entering the bakery, Jesper spotted Y/N at one of the booths, eating creampuffs. Well, there goes the last thing he had to give them. Making his way to the table, Jesper watched as Y/N raised their head to look at him.

“Don’t tell me Kaz sent you to come and ruin my night with some heist plans, Big Bear,” Y/N said, biting into their cream puff, humming in delight.

“Nope, just me. . . . just me,” Jesper murmured the last bit.

“Just you huh?” Y/N asked, finishing their plate and throwing it out. They stood, thanking the baker before leaving the bakery. Jesper followed behind. His mind raced with ideas on how to do this right. Maybe this was the right way? Stopping in one of the alleys, Jesper sucked in a deep breath.

“I love you!” He called to Y/N, who stalled for a moment, eyes going wide just as they did when Jesper had kissed the corner of their mouth.

“You make me rethink everything I know. You waltzed into the Crows lives, but most importantly, you waltzed into mine. I love you,” Jesper watched Y/N, seeing them laugh a bit.

“Go on, Big Bear,” Y/N spoke, walking slowly towards the gushing Jesper.

“I love the way you let me joke about your height. I love the way you get creampuff filling all over your face, you actually still have some on your lips. I love the way you joke with me during jobs, even when they go terribly wrong,” Jesper chuckled now, his smile wide.

“I love when you wear my clothes. They’re big on you. My jackets almost reach the floor. My sweaters reach your thighs. I love when you stand behind me while I’m playing cards, wondering how the game works. Or why it’s helpful. I love when you sneak into my bed late at night and lie across from me even with the small space we have, acting as if I don’t know you’re there. I love the way you chase me for your last cream puff and tackle me into the ground. But most of all, I love you . . . you, gosh do i love you,” Jesper felt out of breath. He wanted to yell from the top of rooftops that he loved Y/N. The things he’d do for them were endless.

“You know what I love about you, Jesper Fahey?” Y/N asked, tilting their head as they stopped in front of the breathless boy.

“What?”

“Everything,” and then they were on their tippy toes, their lips barely meeting Jesper’s.

The taste of cream puff filling hit Jesper first, a familiarity he knew with Y/N. Home. His fingers delicately moved to hold the back of their neck, his eyes shutting as he fully leaned down to kiss them. The pounding in his chest could likely be heard throughout the entirety of Ketterdam. He could feel the concrete underneath him, and it felt like the only stabilizer he had to keep him grounded. For if not for the concrete beneath him, he would’ve thought he was dreaming. Floating, even. But the feeling of their skin under his fingers, their lips. Everything invaded his senses and he didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want them to stop.

Y/N had dreamed of this moment. The way Jesper’s slightly chapped lips would feel against their own, how soft his skin would feel, how his hair would feel. How he’d feel. Time felt lost, the world around them dimming as they let themself be consumed by this feeling. Nothing had felt so right. No one else existed except them.

Becoming breathless, Jesper pulled from Y/N, his eyes fluttering open as he placed his forehead against theirs. Then he felt the soft feeling of rain beginning to fall. “Isn’t that cheesy,” he chuckled, making Y/N laugh and take his hand.

“Ready to run through the rain, Big Bear?” They whispered.

Jesper didn’t answer, and instead he turned, pulling Y/N with him towards the Slat, their laughs being heard for miles.

[illwynd]

views on Frigga?

hilariously enough i was just thinking about some of this today, so good timing, nonny! and my answer is that this is actually a sorta complicated question!

firstly, there used to be (and i guess probably still is in some circles) a trend to consider her a perfect mom who did nothing wrong ever or even to call Loki a mama's boy, and i have never been on board with that. She is undoubtedly the kinder, more loving parent in comparison to Odin... but that's a pretty low bar, ya know? She made plenty mistakes as well---going along with many of Odin's terrible ideas, for one, but also some pretty significant errors of judgment and perception of her own (like not realizing that Loki was quietly having a breakdown and instead handing him Gungnir and telling him to make dad proud---like okay, he was hiding it well but that's her kid, gosh she clearly knows him real well not to realize he might not be 100% okay five minutes after that revelation and might need some support!), plus various manipulative tactics, willful blindness to problems, and so on.

Re the "mama's boy" assertion, I have also always been particularly struck by the fact that Loki does not seem very close to or trusting of her even before he learns that she also hid the truth of his origins from him, and my sort of headcanon is that while she spent more time with Loki when he was younger and she tried to balance out Odin's obvious favoritism by doing things like teaching him her magic... he would have ended up being pretty ambivalent about this as a consolation prize: this special thing she taught him was also what got him teased, called weak and deceitful, so he would suddenly be put in a very tricky spot. He can't reject it or disavow it, because it's this special thing his mom taught him (and which he also genuinely enjoys and appreciates), and he'd resent her a little for putting him in that position and even more for not realizing that it was going to cause problems for him, and he wouldn't be able to confide in her about any of these issues without insulting her or causing a fight with the parent who does clearly care about him but also seems more concerned with keeping the peace in the family. (see also the essay i haven't written about the many things that make loki such an especially relatable character to trans masc folks.) So what was originally an attempt at helping him ends up being the cause of a wall of silence between them and him having to keep his feelings secret. Which seems to have become status quo when we see them in Thor 1.

On the other hand, there is also a trend that I think goes a little too far in the other direction, of considering her a completely terrible parent and that any reasonable person could have done better... because, I mean, for one, if she were a perfect parent, there would basically be no story there. From a story-external perspective, if Loki trusted her and were able to just go to Frigga for help and if she were able to simply give good guidance and solve the problem, Thor 1 would be a very short and boring movie, or at least a very different one, and I'm glad we got Loki having a complete breakdown instead. (I feel like any fic writer who's written Thor 1 era canon-compliant fic has had to solve the problem of "where the hell is Frigga and why is she not even noticing this nonsense"). So with that in mind, I'm willing to chalk it up to royalty, too busy to parent, assumes things are fine if the sky isn't falling sort of human-normal imperfection, which happened to be just tragically wrong for the circumstances and personalities involved. And I like how friggin' real some of her mistakes are. Her manipulative attempts to "reason with" Loki in his cell hit... really close to home for me, and that is absolutely the sort of thing that people who are well-meaning and generally moderately okay parents do that absolutely fucks up their kids.

On yet another hand, her being fridged in TDW was lazy af and the movie would have worked just as well if she'd been not-quite-mortally wounded and the boys had to go get vengeance for that. (iirc this was a point originally made by @gorgeousgalatea?) And Loki did suffer a similar injury and survive, after all. Fridging Frigga, pantsless Selvig, and sea bass are the movie's only flaws.

And ok I realize this response is largely angled toward Frigga in terms of her relationship with Loki, but alas that is a lot of the context we have for her, and it's probably a long enough answer at this point. Frigga's C+ parenting. Something like that.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Don't Have to Choose

Summary: Reader has been avoiding Laxus and Gajeel because of how she feels about them but soon they let Reader know that they don’t have to choose.

TW/CW: Poly Laxus Dreyar x genderfluid!afab!Reader x Gajeel Redfox,

Requested?: Yes, by a lovely Anon who said, “Hi Gin!! I was wondering if you still write for Fairy Tail? If so, could I request a poly Laxus x genderfluid reader afab x Gajeel imagine? Maybe the way they get together? And if the reader was a water or ice god or demon slayer that would be cool. If you do choose to write this it would be so exciting to read your great writing!”

Word Count: 1,543

A/N: It feels so good to write again. Again, I'm so sorry about it taking so long to get back to it. Also, when I say I wish I could be (Y/n), I mean it. Literally can never decide which is my favorite between Laxus and Gajeel lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read! As always, love to all!

Your POV

As I made my way through the Guild Hall for another job request, I ducked behind a pillar as I spotted Laxus on the other side of the room. I silently prayed that no one would bring attention to me. Out the corner of my eye, I also spot Gajeel so I decide to beeline towards the Request Board and pick up the first one I could grab and take off. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m avoiding my two best friends but I’m not even sure myself. Actually, that’s not true. I know why but I’d rather marry a Vulcan than admit the reason.

I make it to the board and grab a job request and then turn on my heel to speed out of there but slam right something big and sturdy. I’m knocked onto my butt and as I look up I find the Iron Dragon Slayer grinning down at me. I glare at him as he chuckles but my eyes are torn away from him as a hand is offered to help me up, said hand happens to be attached to a second Dragon Slayer, this one being of the lightning variety. I get up off the floor without taking Laxus’s hand and then turn to head towards Mirajane to accept the job.

I toss the paper down onto the counter and turn to leave but Mira stops me, “(Y/n), you should probably take back-up for this one. From what I hear there’s a lot more Vulcans than just one person can handle for this job.” Of course, having heard her, Laxus and Gajeel make their way over.

“We’ll go with you, Tiny,” Gajeel offers.

I internally scream as Laxus nods his head in agreement. “Great! Be safe you three, we’ll see you when you get back,” Mira exclaims happily. Something in the back of my mind says Mira did that on purpose but I don’t have the mental ability to argue with her right now. Without saying another word, I head straight to the door and out into the sunshine and bustling street of Magnolia. I don’t even need to look back to know that Gajeel and Laxus have joined me as well as Panther Lily. I head North on foot towards the mountain town overrun by Vulcans.

We walk in silence for quite some time before I hear something metal rattling. I turn to look over my shoulder to find Gajeel dropping a few nuts and bolts into his mouth. He offers some to me but I roll my eyes and turn my attention back ahead of us. Lily finally is the first to speak, “I’ll be blunt and quick about it, what has gotten into you three?”

The silence coming from Gajeel and Laxus tells me that they’re waiting for me to speak. I pretend not to notice. Unfortunately, Laxus doesn’t seem to want the subject to drop, “I don’t know about Metal Muncher, but you’ve been ignoring me for weeks.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, it hasn’t been that long,” I respond nonchalantly.

“So, you admit you’ve been ignoring him?” Gajeel inquires, “Glad it’s not just me.”

“It has been that long. It’s been three weeks since there’s been any semblance of an interaction between us,” Laxus adds.

I sigh and ignore them as were coming up on the outskirts of the town. It’s surprisingly quiet as I lean against a brick wall to take a break and survey the area from our position up on this hill. In a flash, Laxus is in front of me and has his hands pressed against the wall to cage me. I avoid eye contact with him as he speaks, “Don’t think we’re finished discussing this. When we get this job done, you’re gonna tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.” I finally look up at him to read his expression. He looks genuinely hurt which causes my own heart to ache. Then I could swear I hear Gajeel growl lowly as Laxus steps away from me to look over the town.

Seeing no sign of the Vulcans, we descend into the valley where the small town resides in search of them. It’s not long before we find them. Together the four of us make quick work of the job with only a short capture of myself by a Vulcan which led to even more tension between Gajeel, Laxus, and myself. Soon, we leave the town as the citizens cheer and thank us. The walk home is almost suffocatingly tense and quiet.

Upon our return to Magnolia, we make our way to the counter where Mira wanders back and forth serving drinks to our guildmates. Laxus heads upstairs where it’s undoubtedly quieter and Gajeel makes himself at home at one of the tables on the opposite side of the room. I take a seat at the bar as Lily hops up onto its surface, “Are we going to discuss what happened?”

Mira stops in front of us, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I mumble in annoyance.

Lily looks as if he’s trying to decide if he should tell her but quickly makes up his mind, “(Y/n) here was kidnapped by one of the Vulcans. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gajeel and Laxus work together so swiftly or become so angry.”

Mira giggles, “Let me guess, you too think they love our dear friend here, don’t you.”

“Yes,” and nods thoughtfully, “I also think that (Y/n) loves them too but is too scared of what that might mean.”

I sigh, “Fine, you’ve caught me. I just... there’s no way that I could choose.”

Mira looks at me with a mischievous grin on her face, “Who says you have to choose?”

I fidget with my fingernails as I drop my head to stare at the counter. A storm of thoughts rumbles its way through my mind. However, it’s quickly halted as someone gently places their hand on my shoulder. I look behind me to find Laxus and Gajeel both standing there. Gajeel nods his head towards the door to signal for me to come with them.

Mira mouths, “good luck,” at me as I hop down off the stool to leave the Guild Hall. Quietly, we make our way to my house as my stomach twists itself into knots and the storm in my mind begins raging again. I unlock the front door and step inside, leaving the door open for them to follow me in. I hear the door shut softly behind me as I drop my backpack off on the kitchen counter and then plop down onto the couch.

The quiet persists for a few moments until Laxus finally speaks up from his stance against the wall across from me, “I never knew there could be someone outside of the Thunder Legion that I could work so well with let alone with such little communication.”

I know without asking that he’s referring to the fact that he and Gajeel worked like a well-oiled machine to get me to safety. From the other couch, Gajeel agrees, “I didn’t either but we were pretty good out there huh?”

“We were... but it’s not just us,” comes Laxus’s response as he drops onto the couch beside me.

Gajeel stands and joins us, “Without Tiny, we’d be a pretty shitty team.”

“We’re not going to make you choose, (Y/n). Why would we when we’d know you’d be safer with both of us than just one?” Laxus adds.

All my fear of having to choose dissipates as I realize what they’re saying, “So, we’re really going to make this a thing?”

“Yup,” Gajeel answers, popping the p before getting up to go to the kitchen.

Several months later, the Fairy Tail Guild has been requested to help out taking down a dark guild. Here I stand, facing off against a trio of dark mages. One of them looks at me and chuckles, “You’ll make a cute little maid, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

One of his friends looks at him like he’s insane, “Dude, how do you not know who this is? I highly suggest you just fight and not try anything. Her boyfriends will level you in seconds if you even think about taking her.” Just then the guy is struck with a bolt of lightning and knocked out.

“You’re right about that one,” Laxus grumbles as he steps up beside me on my right, shortly joined by Gajeel on my left. The other two look at the three of us in absolute terror and try to flee but they too are knocked out, this time by Gajeel’s iron arm.

“Just when I thought I was going to have to take these idiots out myself,” I laugh.

“You know we’ve always got your back, Tiny,” Gajeel responds as he moves closer. The three of us form a sort of triangle with our backs turned to each other to face the oncoming hoard of dark mages who heard the lightning and decided they could take the challenge. In the midst of chaos with a battle raging on, I feel perfectly safe knowing that the two men who hold equal shares of my heart have my back and each other’s while I also have theirs.

Taglist:

Masterlist

[tsukishumai]

Prank Wars w/ their S/O - Tsukki, Kuroo, Akaashi, Bokuto

My Gym 3 babies! 

Couldn’t get this idea out of my head lmao, so I cranked it out real quick.

Hope you like!

Aged-up characters :)

TSUKISHIMA –

You looked at the clock on the wall of your shared apartment.

It read ’11:56 PM’

Tsukki’s birthday was in four minutes, and the two of you were spending it huddled around the kitchen table, papers scattered all over while you both attempted to finish your midterm papers.

Not exactly the most glamorous way to spend it, but such is life for college students.

Still, that didn’t mean you didn’t have something up your sleeve.

Tsukishima was sitting across from you, eyes trained to the screen of his laptop, headphones on with the volume undoubtedly maxed it.

“Kei,” you called out, and just as you expected, he couldn’t hear a word you said.

You rummage through your bag, and found the pair of scissors you stowed away earlier for this exact moment.

“Kei,” you said again, a little louder this time. Still, you were met with nothing.

‘Perfect.’

“Kei!” you yelled out, and with a quick snip, you had cut the wire that was connecting his headphones to his laptop.

You watched as Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly, eyes darting from the cut wire to you, then back to the cut wire, then back to you.

“What the actual fuck?” he said in disbelief.

“I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes now, and you were ignoring me!”

“So you cut my headphones” he sputtered out, still trying to process the situation.

“You couldn’t hear me!”

“Wha – I – Are you an actual moron?!” His eyes narrowed at you, taking the now broken head phones off his head and throwing them off the table, “There were a hundred different ways to get my attention, and you had to pick the most idiotic way. Jesus fucking Christ, how the hell am I supposed to –“

You cut him off by placing a small box on the table, wrapped in a light green wrapping paper patterned with a cartoon dinosaur wearing a party hat.

He stared at the box.

“’How the hell am I supposed to drown out your annoying voice’? That’s what you were gonna say, right?”

He glared at you.

You pointed to the box.

“What the hell is it that?” he asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

“It’s a present,” you rolled your eyes, “or are you too stupid to – “

He snatched the box from the table at your words. You smirked with satisfaction as you watched him quickly ripped off the paper, his hands stilling once he realizes what was underneath.

It was a set of Bluetooth headphones – ones that he has been eyeing for months but hadn’t been able to save up enough money to get.

He looked up at you, eyes softening immediately at the proud smile you had on your face.

“Happy birthday, Kei!” you giggled.

He stood up from his chair to make his way around the table and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead.

What’s a present without a little psychological torture?

KUROO

Kuroo was planning to be nice to you today.

Really, he was.

He even took a quick pit stop at the mall so he could get you a drink from your favorite boba spot.

But when he walked passed the kiosk selling cheap hair extensions, an idea so great popped into his head, he couldn’t ignore it.

He got to your apartment, and the happy smile on your face almost made him hesitate to go on with his plans.

But then you said, “What’s up with your hair today, Tetsu? Couldn’t be bothered to look in the mirror for longer than two seconds?”

His eyebrow twitched.

He waited for the perfect opportunity, and it came when you went into the bathroom to finish doing your make up.

He grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer in your kitchen, and then cut off a thick lock of hair from the extension he had bought that matched your color.

He tiptoed his way into the bathroom, making sure not to make much noise so that you didn’t notice him.

Making a big show of it, he snipped the scissors loudly behind your head, then held up the fake lock of hair for you to see in the mirror.

He couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from spreading on his face as he watched your face slowly register what you just heard, and what you were seeing in the mirror.

Your face contorted with anger and disbelief, quickly snapping your head around to stare at the lock Kuroo was holding.

“WHAT,” you shrieked, “THE. FUCK!”

Kuroo was bent over laughing at this point.

“KUROO TETSURO, I – YOU –“ You sputtered, but then you turned back to your sink, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through the contents.

Kuroo wondered for only a minute what you were looking for before you produced your own pair of scissors.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, “Y/N…”

“COME HERE YOU ASSHOLE,” You tried to grab at his hair, but he was too quick, and grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, calm down,” he shrieked, “You’re gonna hurt somebody!”

“YEAH, THAT WAS THE PLAN.”

“It was a prank!” he said quickly, and you stopped thrashing around, and Kuroo let out a sigh of relief.

He ran out of the bathroom to grab the plastic bag of fake hair, lifting it up for you to see when you trailed after him.

“See,” he said, “I got it at the mall earlier. Now… Please… Put the scissors down?”

Akaashi –

You and Akaashi were having a peaceful Sunday

After spending the morning lazing around on the living room couch, the two of you decided to go for a run around the neighborhood.

Bad idea.

You absolutely hate running.

Akaashi managed to convince you with the promise of making you chocolate chip pancakes when you finished, but not even that was giving you the motivation to pick your feet up from the ground.

 “Alright, that’s it,” Akaashi called from twenty feet ahead of you, his natural athleticism making you more irritated by the second, “Almost there, you can do it!”

You know he was trying to be motivating, but it just made you want to chuck your shoe at his pretty head.

Your body was aching and exhausted by the time you got back to your door.

Akaashi gave you a quick peck on the cheek, told you to go take a shower while he prepared breakfast.

You agreed, but made your way into the kitchen first to grab an apple sauce packet from the cupboard cause a bitch hates cramping.

When you noticed the box of dried pasta sitting in the corner, an idea flashed into your head.

Quietly, you opened the box and grabbed a few dried pieces, shoving them into your mouth before you turned to Akaashi.

“Hey, Keiji? My back is kind of aching, do you think you could help me crack it?”

He tiled his head at you, setting down the bowl of pancake batter he was mixing.

“How do I do that,” he whipped his hands on a towel before positioning himself behind you.

You crossed your arms. “Just wrap your arms around me, then pick me up and squeeze really tightly.”

Akaashi nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “Ready?”

You nodded, and as soon as you felt Akaashi lift you from the ground, you bit down on the dried pasta in your mouth, creating a loud cracking sound.

Akaashi let go of you in shock, dropping you onto the floor, but you were trying so hard not to laugh, you didn’t even mind.

“Holy hell, was that your back?! Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?!””

Akaashi knelt down from where he stood, trying to hold you up while you clutched your stomach.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you burst out laughing.

Akaashi narrowed his eyes as you grabbed a napkin from the counter and spat out the dried pasta from your mouth, laughing even harder when Akaashi looked at you in disgust.

 Realization dawned on his face, and he dropped you on the floor once again, stood up, and started heading towards the bathroom, leaving you to pick yourself up.

“Aw come on, Keiji~”

“I’m taking a shower. Make the pancakes yourself.”

“No! Keiji!!”

Bokuto –

You were trying to enjoy the newest episode of your favorite show when it was interrupted by loud screaming.

Screams that you could only recognize as Bokuto’s

You rush out from your room, only to find your boyfriend screaming his head off from the kitchen counter

“Kou?! What the – “

Your eyes barely took in the sight before you.

Bokuto with a knife in his right hand while his left is on the cutting board and all you saw was red – so much red.

“OH MY GOD, KOTARO, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK”

“Y/N, OH MY GOD, GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!”

You scramble around, and in a panic, you grabbed the dish rag that was on the sink, and threw it at him.

“NO, THAT’S A RAG, THAT’S DIRTY!”

“OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE THE DAMN PAPER TOWELS,” you scream out, scrambling around the kitchen that you’ve lived in for the past year, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!”

“I WAS TRYING TO COOK US SOME DINNER,” Bokuto cried out, and you finally found the damn paper towels under the sink.

You grab the entire roll, ripping off a few sheets and pressing them onto Bokuto’s fingers.

Except, when you wiped the paper towel away, there was no blood. It was… tomato sauce?

And Bokuto’s fingers were neatly intact.

When you finally noticed Bokuto’s phone recording you, you turn to glare at him.

The bastard had the audacity to burst out laughing.

“That’s not funny, Kou!” you shrieked, throwing down the paper towels and storming out of the kitchen.

“Aw, come on, Y/N,” he said in between laughter, “I’m surprised you even fell for that.”

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to think when I come running down, and you’re screaming your head off!”

You crossed your arms and pouted. Bokuto snickered, washing his hands before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You gotta admit,” he smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, “That was a good one.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around him. “Yeah… it was.”

[lovely-angst]

What UA taught me

this was going good and then it wasnt

pairing: bakugou x reader

word count: 3k

genre: fluff

summary: it was the sports festival at UA, but your school gets broken into by villains

12.05.20

-

“Hello?” 

“Hey Katsuki! It’s nice to hear your voice again,�� you tease with a smile as Bakugou goes silent on the other side before quickly replying, “you should be thankful I picked up your damn call,” he shoots back, but you know better. 

“Like you didn’t answer my call right away,” you giggle as you glance up at the orange sky, “but you’re right. I should be thankful thee Bakugou Katsuki has picked up my call.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he finishes, a small smile on his lips. It had been a while since he was able to joke around with you like this, and did it leave him feeling more refreshed at hearing your voice. “Sorry that we haven’t been able to call often, it’s been hectic as a second year,” Bakugou confesses, but you shake your head, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you. 

“Don’t worry about it Katsuki, I know you’re working hard to become number one. Our phone calls can always wait,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips, “I’m just happy we were able to call today.” 

“Oh! You want to hear something funny?” you begin to tell Bakugou all sorts of stories about your new classmates and the new things you’ve been doing now that you’re no longer at UA.

Bakugou shared a few stories with you as well, keeping you up to date on your old classmates and friends. You smiled as he rambled on about Midoriya before talking about his hero internships and how they weren’t as hands on as he’d like. 

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and run into you on the streets when you’re doing work study,” your tone shifted into a hopeful one as you thought about seeing Bakugou in person, “that would be so nice.” 

“Don’t come distracting me now,” he teases, causing you to roll your eyes, “yeah right. You’re going to distract yourself. Stop putting the blame on me,” you tease back with a slight giggle before it goes silent on both sides. 

“I really miss you, you know?” you confess with a sigh. “It sucks not being able to see you every day. I can’t believe I’ve already gone two months without seeing you once.”

“Yeah, yeah, I miss you too,” he responds and you could already imagine the faint blush on his cheeks, causing you to smile. “Don’t forget to watch me on the big screen next week.” 

“How could I ever forget UA’s sports festival? It’s like the biggest event in Japan!” you cry, “My classmates and I are going to watch it together in class. I haven’t told them about you yet, so they’re in for a surprise once I tell them who I’m dating,” you giggle into the phone. 

“Damn right, those extras better know who you belong to,” rolling your eyes at his dramatic comment, you see the train station ahead, much to your dismay. 

“Oh, I’m at the station. I’ll have to end the call here, Katsuki,” standing still under the streetlights that helped light the darkening streets, you let out a sigh. “I’ll call again after the sports festival next week. Good luck! Let’s get another win this year!” you cheer, hearing Bakugou snort from the other side. 

“If I win, do I get a prize?” Bakugou asks, and you knew he wasn’t talking about some medal. “I don’t know. How about you win first, then we can talk?”

Bakugou clicks his tongue, “Come on, give me some motivation here, sweet cheeks,” he calls out, adding pet names that have you rolling your eyes, “Jeez, you’re so needy,” you joke, shaking your head with a smile. 

“Um, I’ll give you a kiss if you win,” you say, “Can’t back out now, I’m going to expect a kiss by the end of the day after my victory,” he says undoubtedly, causing you to gawk. 

“But you’re not allowed out and I’m not allowed in!” you protest, but you hear him click his tongue. “Should’ve thought of that beforehand, princess. See you later, don’t forget my prize.” 

Beep.

Pulling your phone back to see the ended phone call, you could feel your cheeks heating up from the thought of a kiss. It wasn’t like you two had never kissed, but a kiss after two months apart had you fainting at just the thought. 

Shaking away your nerves, you quickly made your way to the station before waiting for your train.

---

“It’s starting! “your classmates shouts as they quickly ran to their seats, students scrambling around quickly before quieting down to watch the television that had been rolled into class. 

One of the biggest events in Japan was just about to begin—UA’s annual sports festival. Businesses and schools alike had been shut down for the day so everyone would be able to enjoy such an anticipated event. 

Thankfully, your teacher had talked with the principal into letting your class watch the event in the classroom together and thankfully, he agreed, which resulted in where you were right now. 

Memories of your first year at UA beginning to flood your brain as you watched the familiar stage and arena in nostalgia, but now as a spectator.

“Didn’t you use to go to UA, (Name)?” a classmate asked as they turned around to face you before you gave them a nod. “So you were in the sports festival last year too?” 

You gave them another nod before they awed at you. “Whoa! Is it just as intense as it looks?” Your eyes widen with another nod, “You have no idea. It’s super competitive, but it’s definitely rewarding at times.”

“Oh, here comes the first years!”

As everyone focused back on the television, you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach. You felt so nervous for all of the students, but you also were so anxious to see Bakugou on television.

Of course he was going to do well, but it’s been so long since you’ve seen him, well, in action. 

Watching the first years was just as amazing as you had remembered your first year to be. You had some favorites, quirk wise and personality wise. 

Though you loved watching the new first years of UA, you couldn’t wait to get to the second years, where your old classmates were and especially your boyfriend.

It had been a few months since you’ve seen them and you couldn’t wait to see how they’ve progressed in such a short amount of time.

After Midnight had announced this year’s winner’s for the first years, the second years walked out onto the stadium, looking ready for anything heading their way.

Present Mic was already announcing the introductions to the second years, causing your heart to flutter.

The camera landed on Bakugou, with Present Mic loud commentating, “Last year’s winner, Bakugou Katsuki! Will he be able to keep his title as victor this year?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at the camera, stuffing his hands in his pockets at the comment. 

“Also representing the second years, is Bakugou Katsuki!” 

Bakugou shot his head over at Midoriya with a glare as the poor green haired male brought his hands up in defense. “We all thought you’d be a great representative after everything that’s happened in our first year!” Mina cried as she jumped on his back playfully. 

You could see your old classmates surround him with warm and supportive smiles before Bakugou eventually gave in and walked up to the microphone beside Midnight. 

“I still will become number one,” he starts casually, “but if I somehow don’t, I know my class will come out on top.” 

Everyone in the stadium gawked at his answer. He wasn’t much different than he was a year ago, but he was definitely more fond of his classmates. You couldn’t help but smile at his answer.

Midnight let out a chuckle, “Well, you seem very certainly motivated today. What is behind that motivation?” 

Bakugou took a step forward, grabbing where the mic sat in the stand, “My girlfriend said she’d give me a kiss if I won first place,” he said smugly, glancing over at the camera. “(Name), you don’t want to let everyone down now if you don’t give me a kiss.” 

You choke upon hearing his answer as you watch him walk away like he hadn’t just exposed you to all of Japan. 

Your classmates all slowly turned their gaze on you, silently demanding an answer on why the stuck-up blonde had said your name and called you his girlfriend. 

You duck your head down sheepishly, “I was going to tell you all at the end of the day today, but I guess he already announced it to all of Japan,” you start. “That’s my boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki,” you confirm with an awkward smile before your class erupts in chaos, missing the start of the second year’s obstacle course.

-

“And finally, this year’s first place winner is Bakugou Katsuki! For the second time in a row!” Midnight announces, as Endeavor, being the new number one hero, hands out their medals. 

You facepalm internally as you watch Bakugou with his smug smile. You knew he was just waiting for that kiss!

Once the third years walked out onto the arena, you felt your phone vibrating before Bakugou’s caller ID lit up the screen, causing your eyes to widen before some of your classmates noticed. 

“(Name) ’s boyfriend is calling her!” they teased, “he’s waiting for that kiss!” 

Pouting, you stood up before grabbing your phone and walking towards the doors, “Jeez, you don’t have to remind me!” you cry, sliding the door open before stepping out to take the call. 

Sliding the accept button, you bring the phone towards your ear, “Hello?”

“So, when am I going to get that kiss?” his low attractive voice says through your phone speakers as you scrunch up your nose, “Katsuki, I can’t believe you announced that to all of Japan,” you whine before he lets out a snort, “just making sure you don’t forget.”

Your classmates begin to cheer loudly from within the class as you peek through the door’s small window before focusing back on Bakugou. 

“First of all, congratulations on winning! Secondly, I’d love to give you a kiss, but I just don’t know how we’ll be able to see each other,” you had gone through the possible options, but they never made it far. UA becoming a boarding school made it almost impossible for the two of you to meet. 

“Well, when do you think the next time we’ll be able to see each other is?” Bakugou asked, irritated that he wouldn’t be getting his kiss anytime soon. 

“New Years?” 

Bakugou choked. “New Years? Are you fucking kidding me? You know it’s still early in the year,” he complains, but all you can do is shrug your shoulders.

“That’s how it’s gonna be, so suck it up. We only ever went home once last year and that was for New Years,” you inform, hearing him huff on the other side of the phone. “I know you really want that kiss, Katsuki. I want to kiss you just as much, but we can’t see each other because of how strict UA has become, I’m sorry.” 

Bakugou sighed, “Don’t be sorry,” he starts, earning a smile from you, “our New Year’s kiss better be fucking worth it.” You couldn’t help the giggle that falls from your lips at his words. “It will be, I promise.”

After saying quick goodbyes, you and Bakugou ended the phone call before you made your way back into class to finish watching the remainder of the sports festival with your classmates.

“What did I miss?” you ask, sliding into your chair as your eyes focused back onto the screen. “Nothing much, just the third year introductions. They just started the obstacle course.” 

Suddenly out of nowhere, a loud explosion was heard, causing you to jump from your seat. 

“What was that?” you asked nervously, your classmates alike glancing around with wide eyes. “Was that from the TV?” 

“It couldn’t have been...that sounded way too loud and too close.” a classmate responded as you stood up in your seat to walk carefully toward the door, listening for any other sounds. 

When no other explosion came, you quietly slid the door open before secretly peeking your head out, glancing around for any suspicious activity. But you couldn’t pick up on anything. 

Turning around to face your shaken up classmates, you let out a determined breath. “I’m not sure what the situation is right now, but I’m going to need you all to stay calm and cooperate with me here,” you order as they all glanced at you.

“Enna, could you use your quirk to see how many people are in the building and what they are doing right now?” she quickly nods her head before standing up and closing her eyes, activating her quirk as you all watch silently. 

Her eyes shoot open before she glances over at you in fear, “There are three people on the first floor, heading up to the second floor where we are. It looks like there might be some people surrounding the school perimeter as well,” 

You nod and thank her before turning to look at another classmate, “Miki, you have an enhanced hearing quirk, right? Could you press your ear against the door and try to listen for what they might be saying?” 

You could tell she was shaken up, but she nodded nonetheless. Walking shakily towards the door, she pressed her ear against the cold surface for a minute before turning over to you. 

“They’re looking for the UA student who transferred...” 

Your eyes widened as her words struck you—they were coming for you. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest even as you tried to calm yourself down. Glancing over at your classmates, they looked terrified, some bursting into tears at the thought of villains heading their way. 

You were surprised you could stay calm during such an event, but then it hit you. You’ve been through this, facing villains head on. You had been training for this and you were their only hope of staying safe. 

Putting on a determined face, you face your classmates, “Listen up and listen closely, we don’t have much time,” you start, leaning closer, “We know they’re coming for me, so we have to make sure we keep them away from us as soon as possible until help arrives.”

Their desperate eyes watch you as they nod with every word you say, clinging onto the hope you had given them. 

“Worst case scenario is that we have to fight them ourselves, but let’s do our best to keep ourselves safe,” you say with a comforting smile, “I’ve gone through enough training at UA to be able to devise a plan, but it can only do so much.” 

And so you began to create a plan with all of the quirks from your classmates.

A classmate with an animal shifting quirk would change herself into a bird and fly out of the window to find any pro hero patrolling out in the streets, while your classmates try to secretly and safely escape. 

You tried dialing Bakugou to no avail; his phone most likely turned off due to the sports festival. 

‘there are villains at my school, please come with help as soon as you see this’ 

quickly hiding your phone in your pocket before turning around to continue your escape route with your classmates.

“Here, this way, quietly,” you usher towards the window as Enna had cleared the area of any villains, making it the escape route. “They’re searching the classes right now, we need to hurry,” Miki explained as you helped the students lower themselves onto the ground with the makeshift rope. 

“There are two people around the corner, but if we use Tomoya’s quirk, we could make it out without being detected,” Enna informed as you turned towards Tomoya. 

Before you could ask for his help, he nodded at you before kneeling down, touching the ground with his fingertips before raising his hand into the air, creating an illusion of the same image of the school ground, but with the students hidden behind the illusion wall. 

“I can only keep this illusion up well for five minutes before it starts vanishing,” Tomoya explains as he continued to hold his arms up with the illusion. 

On the other side of the gate, you could see the students running away to safety while you were left with Tomoya and another student who was climbing down the ropes from the window. 

“Ah!” a scream caught your attention before you heard a thud, a student on the ground clutching her ankle. “(Name), I think I sprained my ankle!” she cried as she glanced up at you for help. 

“(Name) I can’t hold this for much longer,” Tomoya strained as you could see the illusion slowly warp away. To your dismay, the two men around the corner noticed your presence as they came rushing over. “Over here!” 

“Tomoya! Get Nina to safety!” you cried as you ran towards the two men. 

“What about you, (Name)?” he shouted, but you continue running, “Don’t worry! Go find the pros, I’ll stop them from getting to you guys!” 

As you came face to face with the two large men, you were quick enough to dodge their arms, running under them before pressing a hand on their back before activating your quirk. 

Chains began to wrap around their torsos before you pull your arms in, causing their bodies to smash together as you held them tightly against each other as long as you could. 

Your strength with holding down two people wasn’t as strong as when you held down one person, but your quirk training had prepared you for this. Curling over yourself, you held your breath as you continued to hold the two men down. 

Minutes passed before you felt yourself starting to lose consciousness from the overuse of your quirk to its full potential. 

At least all of your classmates are safe and away from danger. This is what being a hero is, right? Your vision begins to blackout, your grip on the villains loosens before you fall onto the ground with a thud. 

- 

“Congratulations on receiving first again for the second time in a row!” Sero cheers, wrapping an arm around Bakugou’s shoulder as the class returned to their dorms after an eventful day. 

Shaking the man’s arm off, he trudged forward into the common area before walking into the kitchen for some water. 

“Hurry up and turn the TV on! I need to relax now!” Mina exclaims, falling onto the couch beside Momo. As the television turned on, the news channel came on, catching everyone’s attention. 

“A group of villains broke into a high school today in search of a previous student of UA,” the newscaster announced as Bakugou’s focus shifted towards the television. 

“All students were able to escape safely thanks to their classmate, (Last Name) (Name), who devised a plan to get everyone to safety, even using her quirk to keep the villains strapped in place.”

The camera shifted to a classmate of yours, interviewing them on the terrifying event. “(Name) stayed calm even when she knew she was being targeted. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know if we’d all be here safe and sound.” 

“She prioritized us over herself and made sure we were safe. She’s so brave. A true hero.” 

“(Name) was unconscious when pro heroes entered the scene and she is currently under UA’s care, suffering minor injuries due to over exhausting herself from quirk use.”

Bakugou threw his cup in the sink before digging into his pockets to find his phone, now noticing all the missed calls from you before reading your heartbreaking text. 

“Fuck!” he yelled, running out of the dorms only to crash into Aizawa around the corner. 

“Bakugou-”

“Do you know where (Name) is?” Bakugou pleaded, “please.” 

Aizawa let out a sigh before answering, “she’s in the nurse’s office with Recovery Girl. Make it back before 10 pm and I won’t give you any consequences,” Aizawa inform before Bakugou was off and running again.

As soon as he made it to the Recovery Girl’s office, he noticed you on the bed closest to the window, your eyes focused on the scenery below you.

“(Name),” Bakugou breathes as your head turns to face him, eyes widening. “Katsuki?”

Before he could think, his body moved on its own, falling into your lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist, face in your stomach. “Katsuki, are you okay?”

Pulling away, he gave you a stern look, “You fucking passed out fighting some villains, (Name).”

“It was only for about an hour or two, I’m just here for precautions,” you say, staring into his eyes before smiling. “But I’m glad I get to see you today,” 

Sighing, Bakugou hid his face in your stomach with a sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. If only I had picked up your calls or read your text you wouldn’t have ended up here,” he confessed but you shake your head.

“You had things to do, don’t worry about it. I’m safe now aren’t I?”

Bakugou reaches over to intertwine his hands with yours, “be more careful, dumbass. You’re lucky they were some low class villain that didn’t know what they hell they were doing.”

Squeezing his hand, you give him a nod, “I was just doing what I was taught at UA,” Bakugou quietly stares at you with a frown, “You sure you can’t come back?” 

Brushing your hand through his blonde locks, your smile softens at the feel of him, “I’ll ask my parents when they arrive here. Aizawa said he was going to talk to my parents about enrolling me back because it would be safer for me.”

Just as Bakugou was about to close his eyes and relax into your touch, your soft voice asked for him to sit up. 

Your hands place themselves on his cheeks before you bring him in for a kiss, heat rising to his cheeks at the sudden affection. “Congratulations on your win today,” you say cheekily before he smirks, bring you in for more. 

-

A month passed since the incident and everything was back to normal. Bakugou trudging to class so early in the morning as he plopped himself down in his desk before homeroom announcements would start. 

It wasn’t long before Aizawa walked into class, looking as bored and tired as always, causing Bakugou to glance over towards the windows. 

“Good morning, class. I have some important news today, so please listen up,” he starts as the class begins to settle down. “First off, I’d like to introduce our new student who will be joining us today. You can come on in,” Aizawa informs as the door slides open.

Bakugou peels his eyes from the windows to glance over at the door, his eyes slightly widening in shock.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself,” Aizawa asks, stepping aside as you take the podium.

“Good morning. My name is (Name) and I’ll be finishing off the school year with you all. Please continue to look after me.”

[theeasternempress]

A Little Red Handprint

Summary - Echo is still learning how to adapt to having a child on board and struggles with deciding to treat her like a soldier or like a child. With a simple question from Omega, Echo finally makes his decision. 

Word count - 2.7k

AO3

Echo had spent his entire life being trained to become the perfect soldier for the Republic. He could use every weapon imaginable, formulate a battle plan on the spot, follow orders to a T, and take down a droid with a single perfectly-aimed shot. He was proud to say that with time, he had learned to be exactly the type of soldier that the Republic wanted. 

But if there was one thing he was never taught, it was how to handle a child. 

Echo was completely clueless with how to care for Omega. Despite constantly watching Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech from the sidelines as they interacted with Omega, he was unsure of how to interact with her even after a few days.  

At most, he’d dealt with a couple of cadets as an ARC trooper, but he treated them as soldiers instead of the children they truly were. He regretted his past actions the moment he saw Omega’s eyes flood with awe the first time she went into hyperspace as he learned how children appreciate the little things. There was a time and place for being a soldier but for now, Omega deserved to have the childhood no other clone could have.

Echo was fighting a constant but silent battle in his head over this matter. He wanted her to learn how to protect herself as a soldier could, especially after the events of Pantora, but he also didn’t want her to be in constant fear for her life. Echo was sure that their team would do everything in their power to keep her safe, but a thousand “what ifs?” still circled around in his mind. 

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear Omega’s soft footsteps approaching. She could tell he was deep in thought and almost hesitated to interrupt him, but she eventually spoke, “Echo, can you help me with something?”

It was only thanks to years of training that Echo didn’t jump out of his skin at Omega’s sudden presence. He’d always had a bad habit of getting lost in his thoughts, something Fives loved to relentlessly tease him for. 

Burying his surprise, Echo turned to meet Omega’s soft brown eyes and replied, “Sure kiddo, what do you need help with?” 

“My trooper’s head is loose, and I don’t know how to fix it,” Omega said, revealing her trooper doll from behind her back and holding it up to Echo. 

It still made Echo’s heart skip a beat to see that Omega had painted her doll to match the Bad Batch’s armor. Even though it was clearly the work of a child, he could tell that she put her entire heart into her work. 

Taking the doll from Omega’s outstretched hand, Echo set the doll in his palm to get a good look at it. It was clear to him that the head had just been unscrewed from the neck a few times so with a couple twists, the head was back on as normal. 

It was an easy fix, so easy that he was sure Omega would have known how to do it herself. Tech had been teaching her how to make all different kinds of repairs and she clearly had background knowledge as well. There had to be some other reason why she asked for his help. 

Just as Echo was about to question Omega, she hesitantly spoke, “Echo, I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you wear leather armor on your belt when no one else does?” 

Echo smiled softly as he realized that Omega just wanted an excuse to talk to him for a bit. The thought warmed his heart as he replied, “It’s called a kama, it’s a piece of armor I got after I became an ARC trooper. My captain used to say that it acted as extra protection, but my brother Fives always said it was just to make us look cool.” 

Ever-curious, Omega propped herself up to mimic his position and asked, “So the reason you’re the only one who wears a kama is because you’re the only ARC trooper?”

“Yes, but the Mandalorians wore them before ARC troopers did. Once Jango Fett introduced kamas to the clones, ARC troopers began wearing them too,” he answered, preparing himself for more questions from the small girl. 

Echo continued to answer her never-ending questions with a never-ending amount of patience. He told her countless stories about Fives and Domino Squad, a fond yet nostalgic smile on his lips the entire time. 

Even without being told, Omega seemed to understand that the members of his previous squad were all dead and didn’t ask a single question about how they died. Instead, she asked questions about things like their favorite colors and Echo’s favorite memories with them. 

Just when Echo thought Omega was running out of steam, she asked, “Can I try on your kama, please?”

Her question surprised both Echo and Omega, the shocked look on Omega’s face showing that the question had just slipped from her mouth.

Without hesitation, Echo reached behind him to unclip the kama and let it slip into his hands. Omega, seeming to understand what he was doing, broke out into one of her bright smiles and stepped forward to allow Echo to tie the kama around her waist. Even on the tightest setting it was too big on Omega, but she didn’t seem to care as she ran her fingertips over the rough leather. 

Echo contently watched as Omega jumped around, giggling when the kama whacked against her legs. Even though she had to hold the kama in place with one hand, she seemed to be enjoying herself. 

Seeing Omega so happy to be wearing a piece of his armor, Echo decided he would let her try on all of his gear. Echo was never more grateful for the prosthetic hand Tech had built him than when he was removing his armor. He was able to remove his armor and leave himself in his blacks in record time, Omega too distracted with Echo’s kama to notice what he was doing. 

Echo called Omega over to him with a quick call of her name. She strolled to his side, still smiling about the way the kama was flapping against her legs. 

Echo held his helmet up with one hand and asked, “Can’t let you just wear the kama, soldier. How about we get you into full gear?”

Omega gasped as her face lit up, nodding furiously. Echo returned the smile and helped her get his helmet over her head. The helmet was so big on her that she could spin it all the way around her head, which led to heavy laughter from them both. 

The rest of his armor was also far too big on the small girl, but he managed to at least fasten it enough so it wouldn’t fall off of her petite frame. 

Echo could hear her giggles echoing in his helmet and couldn’t help but laugh along with her. If his armor was big on her, he could only imagine how easily she would be swallowed up by Wrecker’s gear. 

Omega quickly cleared her throat and stood at attention like she’d seen him do countless times. Even though Omega mimicked Hunter the most, it always brought warmth to Echo’s heart to see the small girl copying his actions. 

Echo stood at attention as well, giving the girl a firm salute and smiling as she returned it with a little more force than needed and whacked her hand against his helmet. 

“Hi soldier, I’m Echo and I’m an ARC trooper,” Omega’s voice rang out, clearly trying to copy the authoritative tone she’d heard from commanding officers. A quick laugh escaped from Echo as Omega dropped her voice several octaves to try to sound more like him.  

Echo heard a quiet snort come from Omega before she said, “What are you laughing at, soldier? Drop and give me twenty!”

Echo replied with a quick, “Sir, yes, sir!” before getting to the ground to begin doing push ups. He felt Omega crawl on his back to sit on him just as she sat on Wrecker when he did his daily push ups. The armor dug uncomfortably into his cybernetics, but he kept his complaint to himself.

Omega jumped off his back after a minute and said, “I’m gonna go show everyone what I look like in your armor!” 

Echo didn’t even have time to respond as she marched to the cockpit to greet Tech, armor clanging together as she moved. Echo slowly followed behind her, walking in just in time to hear Omega say, “Look Tech, I’m Echo!”

Tech looked up from the small project in his hands to see Omega with her arms spread wide and a smile undoubtedly spread across her face under Echo’s helmet. Echo didn’t miss the twitch of Tech’s lips as he fought back a smile at the sight of the young girl swallowed in Echo’s armor. 

Omega put on her Echo-voice again and said, “Tech, did you finish your work on repairing the communications system? Hunter wanted that done by the end of the day.” 

This time Tech allowed himself to smile at the child and responded, “Yes, communications are up and running, though I doubt we’ll need to use them. Everything else is as it should be.”  

Echo quietly stood off to the side, doing his best to give the two of them some space as they no doubt spoke of the projects Tech was currently working on. Tech always enjoyed getting to speak to someone about his various interests, and Echo didn’t miss how Omega was eager to soak up every bit of information he gave. 

A moment later, Omega sped past him and made a beeline for Hunter’s bunk. Before Echo could leave to go after her, Tech spoke, “We’ll be landing in precisely 30 minutes. You might want to get your armor back in that time.”

Echo nodded and ran off to catch up with Omega. Just as she was about to poke Hunter awake, Echo grabbed her wrist and softly said, “Sorry kiddo, but Tech says we’re landing soon and I’ll need my armor back.” 

Echo could sense that she was pouting, but nonetheless let Echo lead her away from a snoring Hunter to a quiet area on the ship. Omega lifted her arms out and let Echo unclasp his armor from around her frame. 

As Echo was helping Omega take off his armor, his thoughts drifted to Rex and Fives. Even though the events on the Rishi moon cost him three of his beloved brothers, it strengthened his bond with Fives and introduced him to Rex. Their armor tied them together and while he wasn’t wearing 501st colors anymore, his armor would always remind him of his brothers. 

An idea popped into Echo’s head as he removed the final piece of armor from Omega and began, “You know Omega, there’s something from my armor that’s been missing for a long time. I used to have a handprint from my Captain on the chest plate of my old armor. Since I’m part of a new team, I’ve been thinking of getting a new handprint too.”

Omega tilted her head in confusion, so Echo continued, “Would you put your handprint on my kama for me?”

Omega beamed from ear to ear and exclaimed, “Of course! I’ll go grab the paint!” 

While Omega ran off to grab the spare paint they kept on board, Echo began putting on his armor, leaving his kama to the side. 

The pitter patter of Omega’s quick footsteps alerted Echo to her presence as she returned with a canister of red paint and a paintbrush in her hand.

“I thought the red paint would look best on it, but I can get black if you want!” Omega said, clearly happy to be doing this with Echo. 

“I think red is perfect. You ready?” Echo asked as he plucked the paintbrush from between Omega’s small fingers. In response, Omega stuck out her left hand and smiled brightly.

Echo kneeled to the ground, bringing Omega down with him, and brought the paint and his kama to his side. Echo plopped a splat of paint against Omega’s hand, which led her into a fit of giggles as she said, “That’s cold!” 

Echo smiled at her laughter and began brushing the paint across her hand, which led to even more giggles as she exclaimed, “Now it’s cold and it tickles!” Echo laughed as she squirmed about, but continued applying an even coat of paint against Omega’s small palm. 

When he was finished, Echo set the paintbrush down and lifted the kama in front of Omega. He didn’t have a preference for where she put the handprint and knew she was smart enough to pick the best place for it. 

“I’ll let you pick a good spot, just make sure to keep your hand steady,” Echo instructed. Omega nodded, her eyes flicking over Echo’s kama. Eventually, she lifted her palm up on the left flap of his kama, just above his knee. It was about an inch or so on either side of the red border, and Echo thought it would look perfect.

As Omega pulled her hand back to reveal the mark she’d made, Echo felt tears flood his eyes. Even if the handprint belonged to someone else, it would always remind him of Rex. Echo was more than happy to be part of this team, but he couldn’t deny that there were some nights when he longed for the company of his brothers in the 501st. His happiest memories were with them and after all he’d been through, he still craved the simple joy that came from something as trivial as a pillow fight or deep conversations over a cup of caf. 

Sensing his sadness, Omega silently laid her unpainted hand over one of Echo’s. Tears began to pour down Echo’s cheeks, but Omega stayed silent and kept her warm hand over Echo’s. He hadn’t cried like this in ages, and he felt years of suppressed moments bubbling up. 

(Rex would love Omega, wouldn’t he? And by the Maker, he just knew Fives would be able to make Omega laugh for hours.)

Echo smiled at the thought, squeezing Omega’s hand before using his sleeve to dry his tears. Echo finished cleaning himself up just as Hunter emerged from his bunk with sleep in his eyes and a fond smile on his face at the sight of Echo and Omega. 

Omega ran over to Hunter with her painted palm held out and exclaimed, “Hunter, look! Echo let me put my handprint on his kama!”

Hunter chuckled, ruffling her hair and replying, “It looks great, kiddo. You’ve got some skills as an artist. Let’s get you cleaned up now, okay?”

She nodded in response, but ran back to Echo to throw her arms around him first. Still kneeling on the ground, Echo was almost knocked over by the force of the small girl’s hug. Echo returned the hug, placing one hand on her back and threading his fingers through her hair with the other. 

She contently sighed against him before mumbling, “Thank you, Echo.”

Echo hugged her tighter and replied, “No Omega, it should be me thanking you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

Omega stayed latched onto Echo, only releasing him from her hold when Hunter cleared his throat. She pulled away from him and stepped over to Hunter, but not before giving Echo one of her smiles that could rival the brightness of the sun. He smiled in return, watching as Hunter guided her to the refresher. 

Staring fondly at the little red handprint adorning his kama, Echo knew that Omega may not be a soldier like them, but she was definitely a member of their team and he’d protect her just as he’d protect any of his brothers. The hole in his heart left by the parting of Rex and death of Fives may never be filled, but he had a feeling that their newest member would be bringing a new kind of joy to his heart.

-- Dedicated to my wonderful friend @eternalqueenofthemyscira --