#rye for their son on the other hand… not so much

[notsocooljess]

my headcanon for katniss and peeta’s daughter is that she is very sweet but very shy. she reminds katniss a lot of madge - quiet and caring and brave.

just like madge, their daughter loves strawberries, and she likes to drizzle them with honey. peeta starts calling her “honey” because of it, and the nickname sticks so well that by the time their son is old enough to talk he thinks that’s his sister’s real name.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

For the WIP game, do you have plans to add add any more to Outside the Lines from the Outside Chance universe? You single-handedly got me shipping Prim & Rye(n) hard b/c of this fic 😂 And from in progress, You + Me and/or The Cold Side of the Bed?

Alright, we'll cover all three. <3 Below the cut because it's a lot of text.

Friend. I am totally going to throw my beta under the bus on this one. PRIM AND RYEN WERE NEVER PLANNED. I was not gonna go there. Buttercupbadass, however, had other ideas. "Wouldn't it be funny if Prim's 'spa day' was her sneaking away to be with Ryen???" she asked. "Oh it's so cute she had a crush on him!" she says. "Screw it. I want them [Prim & Ryen] to get married," she puts in her edits/comments on ch 17 of Outside Chance, and not on a Prim and Ryen interaction even. That's what bba commented when Prim is saying goodbye to Eirik when she and Katniss are leaving Skaid after their summer visit!

Thus began an entire barrage of her reasoning, possible scenes and dialog, and then... THEN bba mentioned how funny it would be if Katniss accidentally saw a naked Ryen in the background of a Skype call one day and I lost it. So much of that story has roots in my personal life and well... so does that, unfortunately. But after that, the whole concept became too delicious for me to resist. And also, bba was right. They belong together.

I absolutely plan on adding more to Outside the Lines. At the moment, I feel the need to finish writing the next chapter of Outside Chance because that's the root story. I build Outside the Lines and Outside Expectations around what's in Outside Chance, and in a lot of ways, Otl and OC are kind of written simultaneously. So here's a snippet from the next chapter of Outside the Lines and lord help me if bba sees this, I won't hear the end of her prodding to get it done lol ;)

--

“So you’re the flavor of the week. Is there anything you can tell me about Ryen’s mental state going into this competition?”

“If I were really just the flavor of the week, why would you think I’d have any insight into his mental state?” I retort. There’s not much I remember about Agnes Mellark, other than a vague impression of cold aloofness. But how much of my idea of her has been stained by what Katniss and Ryen have told me about her? I don’t know.

I can’t even tell if she recognizes me right now. Maybe it’s too soon to play this hand, but I can’t resist. Maybe because it’s proof that I know Ryen far better than any of his previous flings. Maybe even better than the woman confronting me right now.

“Aren’t you his mother? You should have a better idea of his mental state than me,” I say with a smile. Really, I’d like to stab her in the jugular, but with what? Couldn’t smuggle in a knife, and am unfortunately not wearing my favorite four inch heels, which would be a perfect weapon.

Agnes purses her lips and her eyes wrinkle at the corners. Oh shit, I think and prepare to run, but she shakes her head and chuckles slightly.

“I wish I could say that my son were smart, but he usually thinks more with his dick than his brain,” she says and eyes me. “You’re every bit as beautiful as the others, but smarter, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think I am,” I say.

“Good. Maybe you actually have a shot at getting him to commit, but don’t hold your breath for it. He won't admit it, but he needs someone with a brain to keep him in line, to challenge him and keep him from squandering his talent.”

“Multiple Olympic medals and world cup titles count as squandering his talents?” I ask. She takes a step back from me and I hold in my triumph that I got a response. 

“Maybe not, but his personal life is a mess. I just want to make sure you deserve him and treat him the way you should. Don’t be like that trash his younger brother keeps falling for.”

Oh no. She did not. Fuck this bitch. I don’t need a knife to destroy her.

"Oh you mean my sister?" I say with a wide smile and hold out my hand to her. "I guess you don't remember me. Primrose Everdeen."

**

You + Me is another one of my outstanding Everlark Fic Exchange prompts. This one is from 2019 (I think? *cringes in shame*), and was for either K or P as a romance novelist who secretly uses the other for inspiration in their writing. What happens when they find out?

This one has been super fun to write, if a little slow going, mainly because there are multiple moving pieces to it. Now for a snippet!

--

Katniss… we live together when we travel. I think I’m aware of all your annoying habits by now. ;)

And here I thought I was something of an enigma.

Nope. Open book to me.

Shit. 

Does he mean…?

My brain is scrambling, but I take a deep breath and manage to reign it in. He knows I’m a published writer. His words could merely be a reference to that. This can’t be good. Has he already figured it out?

Before I start plotting a heist to break into his house for a book burning party, I manage a decent, mostly innocuous text.

Hey what’s the title of the book you’re reading? Maybe I know it and can spoil the ending for you. ;)

Not on your life, Everdeen.

Just reached a plot twist in between your texting barrage. 

A delicious plot twist. ;)

Oh?

The hero is not who I was expecting. Dun duh dun!

The wheels squeal and I rush off the train as fear rises up in my throat. Oh god, he’s figured it out. What gave me away? The food porn passages, probably. He’s got to be reading The Thrill of the Hunt. That’s the only one I can think of where I pulled a bait and switch with the hero. 

The street is crowded and I have to tuck my phone in my pocket to navigate the crowds. When I get there, I’m still unable to answer him because even though I’m early to meet my editor, she’s ready for me.

“Katniss, darling! Welcome, welcome! Have a seat please. The cappuccino is fresh,” Effie trills as I’m ushered into her office and offered coffee.

Oh this cannot be good. Whenever Effie has liked my pages, she forgets her manners. Excitement precludes etiquette. But when a writer needs a kick to the creative pants… that’s when she’s the picture of perfect manners.

“That bad?” I ask when her assistant is finally gone, the door shut and a hot cappuccino gripped in my hands.

“They were...how to say this…?”

“Shit,” I supply and she scowls at my language.

**

And finally, since you asked about it, The Cold Side of the Bed was something I started for one of the "This Would Have Happened Anyway" challenges. I don't remember which one, only that the prompt was for Everlark in District 13. I never managed to finish it, in fact I've barely started it beyond a vague outline and the opening scenes, mainly because I was still finishing my degree at the time and pretty much would crash after finals then not be able to muster up the energy to write fanfic. But also because it kind of turned into an epic story. Short synopsis: Non-reaped Everlark winds up married to different people after their last reaping. The rebellion still happens and 12 is still bombed. Some of the story would be about them getting to 13, but the juicy stuff happens while they are in 13.

--

When I wake, the other side of the bed is cold. I reach out through the rough material, seeking a shred of the warmth that would exist if Primrose didn’t still climb into our mother’s bed after a nightmare. Not that I am surprised she had a nightmare last night. This is the day of the reaping, after all. I slowly lift my head to peer across the room at them. The three of them curled together for comfort. My mother, my sister who grows more achingly beautiful every day, and the ugliest yellow cat in the world. He sees me watching and hisses at me.

“Yeah, I know you’d be happy if they called my name today. Lucky for you, they just might.”

After all, my name is in the bowl 28 times today. I dress and join Gale in the woods, relaxing as I make my way through the thick summer foliage to our meeting place.

“How’re you planning on celebrating your freedom?” he asks as we make our way back towards the fence when we’re done hunting. It’s been a glorious day and we’ve got quite the haul. I’ll need the woods to keep providing like this in a few weeks. When the Games end this year, I start working in the mines.

I shudder slightly and give Gale a look. He just shakes his head and laughs. I don’t need to say it. It’s not exactly freedom, aging out of the reaping and into working down in those mines.

“You thought about what I said?”

“Gale,” I say and stop walking right before we reach the fence. He stops too and sighs, looks up at the sky. “I told you I can’t think about that right now. Not when Prim will still be—.”

“And I’ve got Rory still eligible and Posy about to start in a few years, but I’m still thinking about it. How’d you explain that? How about Nathan Dawson and Lilah Bronski? They’ve already decided they’re getting married some time after the reaping if they both make it through. Lots of people think about it, Catnip, and lots of people do it.”

“Well lots of people are stupid then,” I snap and Gale sighs.

“Alright look, just forget I said anything. Let’s go make our trades before we make you late.”

[4townie]

Road to 4☆TOWN

part 41 | part 42 | part 43

Robaire stared at the ring in awe. “Wow…” he looked back at Jesse. “I didn’t think he liked you that much.”

“Neither did I!” Jesse responded. “Ever since Selina got pregnant again, he’s just been wanting to kill me.” Jesse took the ring back from Robaire. “But apparently he thinks I’m son-in-law material.”

“Well aren’t you?” Robaire raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been taking care of his daughter and grandchildren for years and you’re practically the definition of a family man.”

“I know, I know.” Jesse sighed and leaned back. “For so long now, I’ve wanted nothing but to finally call her my wife. But the label…they’d never let us do it for real.” He groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Ughhh, I don’t know what to do.”

Robaire stared at his friend quietly for a moment. “You said in the group chat that you know how you’re gonna do it right?”

“Yeah, I’ve been planning it for ages.” Jesse picked his head up. “But we still—“

“Look, it doesn’t matter if you can or can’t get married right now. What matters is you love her and you know one day you’ll be married for real.” Robaire reminded him. “So why not just go for it?”

Jesse blinked in confusion. “Go for…what?”

“Propose.” Robaire shrugged. “It’ll show her you’re committed, it’ll be a nice surprise for her, and you’ll get her dad off your back. It’s a triple win situation.”

Jesse thought about what Robaire said, and he couldn’t find a single flaw with the plan. “Yeah, you’re right.” Jesse smiled. “Thanks, man. It’s so good to have you back.”

Robaire smiled back. “It’s good to be back.”

———

“Hey, babe.” Jesse said as he left the bedroom. “What’re you doing up so early?”

Selina laughed. “Sleeping with a soccer ball as a stomach isn’t very comfortable. Especially when the little goalie inside keeps using my bladder as a pillow.” She rolled her eyes. “I just gave up on sleeping at some point.”

Jesse stared at her for a moment. “Well…we’re both here now, so I might as well give you the thing.”

“Thing?” Selina looked at him in confusion. “What thing?”

“Oh, I got you a little something. Just cuz.” Jesse shrugged as he handed her what appeared to be a copy of her favorite book.

“Awwww, The Catcher in the Rye.” Selina smiled brightly. “I haven’t seen this book since I accidentally left my copy in the library at school and they thought it was theirs.” She paused. “That was a rough English final…”

“I think it’s funny how that incident went hand-in-hand with my stupid pick-up line.” Jesse chuckled. “I’m still so lucky you thought it was cute.”

“Yeah well, everything you do is cute.” Selina cupped his cheek. “Like leaving your old library card in here to bookmark a p—…” Her eyes got wide when she opened the “book” and discovered it was a box. “Jesse…what’s this?”

“So I know we said we can’t actually get married until 4☆TOWN disbands, but…I know if things were a little different, we wouldn’t be waiting.” Jesse said quietly. “I mean, I’ve been planning this since the first time I heard your adorable laugh. I was supposed to take you to that playground from our prom night, but obviously we can’t leave Marcel so…” he took a deep breath. “Selina, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And you’ve given me the greatest gifts I could ever receive.”

“I gave you one.” Selina stopped him. “The other one is still a work in progress.”

“Yeah, but neither of them would be possible without you.” Jesse put a hand on her belly. “And don’t make a joke about how it’s technically still possible without you because the only reason any of this makes sense is because it’s you and me.”

Selina giggled. “You know me so well. You practically read my mind.”

“And what a beautiful mind it is.” Jesse stared at her with hearts in his eyes. “I love literally everything about you. I love the way your eyes light up when you hear the word ice cream and how hard you’re trying to like spinach so Marcel has a good example. I love how your voice cracks when you’re singing him a lullaby, and how sometimes you laugh a little too hard so milk comes out of your nose.”

“Oh my god, stop bringing that up.” Selina blushed. “It’s super embarrassing every time it happens.”

“Well, I happen to think it’s adorable.” Jesse assured her. “I love the way you know you could take on the world as long as there are no bugs in your way.” They both laughed. “And I love those stretch marks on your body. It drives me crazy that you hate them because to me they’re the sexiest, most beautiful marks in the world. They remind me of what you gave for our son.”

Selina was quiet for a moment. “I need you to stop.” She sniffled. “It’s too early in the morning to be crying like this.”

“Oh yeah sure.” Jesse shrugged. “We’ll just pick this up later. I’ll just take this back then—”

Selina chuckled and smacked his hand away. “Don’t even.” She held the box so he couldn’t take it. “If you’re gonna make me laugh-cry before 8AM, you’re gonna finish your damn speech.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Jesse said with a stupid grin. “I can’t tell you exactly when this stage of our relationship will end, but I promise it’s gonna be over at some point because I love you and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you no matter what.” He took the ring box out of the fake box and got on one knee in front of her. “Will you, Selina Cruz, wear this ring and get your dad to leave me the hell alone?”

Selina burst out laughing. “How is it that you never fail to make me laugh like this?”

“Because it’s always worth it to see your smile.” Jesse said sweetly. “But can you please answer me? This carpet is kinda uncomfortable.”

“Oh right.” Selina shook her head. “Yes, I’d love to shut my dad up if it means I’ll get to marry you one day.”

“Perfect. Just what I wanna hear.” Jesse said as he put the ring on her finger. He leaned in and kissed her deeply.

“I know we can’t actually get married yet, but this just makes it feel more real.” Selina couldn’t contain her excitement. “And is this my grandmother’s ring? How’d you even get this from my dad? He treasures it.”

“Carmelo brought it over the other day as a sign of approval.” Jesse took her hand. “This is actually what he was pestering me about when we were over there. I figured he wasn’t gonna stop until I gave it to you, and honestly I feel a lot better now that I have.” He wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her closer. “As if having two kids wasn’t enough for us to start our future, now I have a f-fiancé. Oh my god…” He realized what he just said.

“Oh…you’re not my boyfriend anymore, are you?” Selina blushed. “We’re like…engaged to be married. Like for real for real.”

They stared at each other awkwardly.

“I-I’m gonna check on Marcel.” Selina got up. “You know how nervous he gets when he wakes up alone.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s cool.” Jesse refused to look at her. “I’ll, uh…I’ll get started on some tea.”

“Good.” Selina nodded. “Great.”

“Yup.”

There was a moment of awkward, yet sentimental silence.

“Jesse?” Selina smiled at him.

He finally looked at her. “Hmmm?”

“I love you.”

Jesse chuckled at how cute his fiancé is. “Yeah. I love you, too.”

———

Sorry for the long wait y’all, I’ve been super busy but updates should go back to normal now!

[mischievouschan4]

WIP Wednesday - 5+1 QuiObiAni (1 of 6)

Woohooo an actual WIP this week because @dark--whisperings gave me the idea of a 5+1, and I couldn't help but write something! ...except I only have the first part done, so the rest will come in the following weeks!

May I present: 5 times Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Anakin's relationship was misinterpreted by other people and the 1 time it was just them 🥰

"Family" Outing

The three of them don’t go out to eat very often because Qui-Gon is rather particular about his organics these days and much prefers the taste of his home cooking. But Anakin has been dropping hints left and right that he’s craving the pancakes with the special sauce from that spot in the city, so Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan decide to surprise him by making a trip out of it. They’ll brunch at the restaurant, visit the space museum after, spend some time walking along the waterfront, and then come home in time for Qui-Gon to make them all dinner. 

“We just love you, darling,” Qui-Gon says while they’re in the car.

“We shouldn’t need a reason to want to treat you to nice things,” Obi-Wan adds with an indulgent smile.

Anakin is buzzing with excitement by the time they get seated at their booth, almost giddy with anticipation. These pancakes are the BEST! He sits on his own side because Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon like to share food sometimes, and okay, maybe he’s also a semi messy eater and neither of the other two want to knock elbows with him. REGARDLESS, Anakin occupies himself playing footsie with his lovers under the table.

A matronly waitress walks up to their booth and greets them enthusiastically, “Good mornin’, gents! Have you had enough time with the menu? What can I get for you all today?”

Qui-Gon orders for all of them to speed up the process, knowing exactly what the other two want. A bowl of oatmeal for him with some blueberries, a vegetarian egg scramble with rye toast and fruit on the side for Obi-Wan, and the signature pancakes with extra sauce and hashbrowns for Anakin. 

The waitress nods as she jots down her notes before looking up to ask innocently, “Any coffee or tea for you, sirs? OJ for your son?”

Qui-Gon pauses when she gets to the end of the sentence, and Obi-Wan can’t hold in his chuckle (even if he’s also been lumped into the category of “old”).

Anakin’s eyes gleam with amusement as he jumps on the opportunity. “Sure, OJ sounds good to me. Obi-Wan will have an English tea and…daddy will just take some plain hot water. No lemon. His stomach can’t handle the acidity this early anymore. Thanks!”

The waitress looks to Qui-Gon for confirmation.

“Yes, that’ll be all,” the older man says with a long-suffering sigh. 

When the waitress walks away, Anakin lets his laughter bubble up, but he reaches across the table to cradle Qui-Gon’s hand in both of his own to make up for it. Obi-Wan leans into Qui-Gon’s side and kisses the older man sweetly on the cheek.

“I guess I look that old now,” Qui-Gon laments.

“Nonsense, you look very handsome, dear,” Obi-Wan comforts, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind Qui-Gon’s ear.

Anakin rubs his ankle subtly against Qui-Gon’s. “We like you that way, daddy,”

“Oh, for Force’s sake,” Qui-Gon admonishes in good humor, but he squeezes Anakin’s hand anyways.

---

Part 2

These are just meant to be light-hearted and funny! Hope you enjoyed 💖

Question though, is it QuiObiAni in your head? or QuiObikin????

[rebelangelwings]

I would looove to read some steamy buck x eddie. Could you maybe write something about them that starts with accidental touches, kisses, domestic moments... they don't even realize but the other 118s notice? And then it develops from there? 🥰

Hi! Thanks so much for the request. I had a lot of fun with this one! I wouldn't necessarily describe it as steamy as I haven't written smut before but I hope you like it still.

It was no secret that both Buck and Eddie were tactile creatures.

After a particularly rough shift, Eddie wanted nothing more than to hold his son close, tucked under his chin. He grew up surrounded by tactile women placing maternal kisses to his forehead or pinching his cheeks. Eddie found comfort and connection in the physical. 

Buck didn't have the same relationships as Eddie growing up. Maddie's gentle embraces and ruffles to his messy, boyish curls stopped once she left home. Comforting physical contact was rare for Buck, usually only coming in the form of a sympathetic nurse cleaning him up after one of his many stunts. 

Buck's 118 family had quickly picked up on how touch-starved he was. How he would light up from a clap on the shoulder by Bobby, how he would duck his head in mock annoyance to hide his pink cheeks and rye smile when Chimney ruffled his overgrown hair, how he would unknowingly lean in to Hen's motherly touch as she cleaned his wounds. 

So, when Eddie had joined the team and became Buck's partner, Bobby, Hen and Chim had been pleased to see that the new member would also provide the much needed physical contact to their youngest teammate and not shun him.

What they had not quite expected, however, was the sheer level of contact the two men would maintain. As if Buck had found his opposing magnet pole. They couldn't go far without crashing back into each other. Hen and Chimney had conducted an observation over a series of weeks to see if the boys could go one shift without physically touching one another. The results were conclusive with no anomalies

Greetings were always performed in a wide armed hug. Nods were always accompanied by a bump of one wrist to another. Reassurances were always made with a hand resting on a shoulder. 

Yet, things had started to seemingly…progress. 

The touches were becoming more frequent. More meaningful. Often accompanied by intense eye contact. 

The 118 were familiar with the sight of Buck and Eddie's sides being plastered together and they sat side by side in the truck, but now they were finding ways to sit so that their legs were a tangled pretzel. 

Maybe it was because they had experienced so many close calls. Seen the other so nearly be snatched away from them. Touch had become grounding for them both. A reminder that the other was still with them. A reminder that they themselves were still alive after everything.

Eddie had quickly learned that in order to truly get through to Buck in times of anxiety or distress, he required physical contact. Eddie's preferred method of contact was a heavy hand placed on Buck's shoulder, just over his clavicle where he could stroke his thumb over the bare skin of Buck's neck if he needed to, much like after the tsunami. 

Buck in turn, knew that he could bring Eddie out of his thoughts with a warm hand on his thigh just above the knee. Sometimes it would be a quick tap, other times his hand would linger. On the night that Eddie had tearfully destroyed his bedroom, Buck had put his hand on Eddie's thigh, who then placed his own shaking and battered hand over the top as he wept. 

The development had been so natural, so gradual, that neither man had noticed. Or cared to. 

Not until one evening where Buck had been over at the Diaz house baking cookies for Chris' class. He'd finished baking, packaged the treats away, watched a movie with his Diaz boys, and went to make his way home just as Eddie announced bedtime for Christopher. Buck stood to say goodnight to Chris as he always did, still privileged enough to get a hug from the teen, and placed a quick kiss to the top of the boy's hair. Swiftly, Buck pulled an arm around Eddie too, placed a quick peck to the man's cheek, and bid farewell as he walked out the door. 

Buck drove home.

Eddie tucked Christopher into bed. 

Buck locked his front door. 

Eddie changed into an old shirt for bed. 

Buck adjusted his pillows. 

Eddie closed his eyes. 

Buck closed his eyes. 

"Oh, shit." Both whispered. 

The following day, with Chris at school packed up with cookies, Buck knocked on the Diaz residents. He was shifting from foot to foot and couldn't seem to shake the jittery feeling in his chest that vibrated all the way to his fingertips. 

Eddie answered, smiling brightly at Buck and opening the door wider to invite Jim inside. 

"You could have used your key." Eddie called over his shoulder. 

"You always say that."

"You always forget to use your key." 

They sassed each other as normal. Buck felt far from normal, hand still clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Eddie offered Buck a drink. Buck accepted. They sat side by side on the couch. 

"So…" Buck started. 

"What's up?" Eddie responded, seemingly oblivious. 

"Um…when I- I left last night… you know when I said goodnight to ch-Chris it was just, you know automatic. Sorry. I just wanted to say sorry if I was w-weird or anything. I was just tired and on autopilot when I…you know when I kissed your cheek." Buck rambled and distracted his hands by taking a sip of his drink. 

Eddie laughed and made an effort to put on a blasé facade, "Buck, don't even worry about it. Do you know how many times I have hung up the phone to the cable guy and said 'I love you', or sent kisses in a text to Chim?"

Buck laughed, relaxing slightly. Maybe he hadn't messed everything up, "Okay, cool. Thanks. Sorry, again." 

They resumed their scheduled plan of watching TV together. Just as normal, their legs were pressed together from ankle to hip. Buck held his drink in his right hand, leaving his left relaxed on his left thigh. Eddie had placed his drink on the coffee table, meaning his hands were also resting in his lap. 

Eddie lifted his right hand to move a piece of hair out of his face, and when he replaced it to his side, the backs of their hands were touching. 

Neither looked away from the television but both were painfully aware. 

Buck twitched his index finger. 

Eddie stroked his thumb over it. 

Purposeful. 

"It was nice."

Buck finally looked away from the TV but Eddie was still facing forward. "Pardon?"

"It was nice." Eddie repeated. 

"What was nice, Eds?" He needed to hear him say it. 

Eddie finally turned to face Buck, "I liked your kissing me. Granted…wasn't how I imagined it. But it was nice."

Buck smirked and leaned forward, dropping his voice lower, emboldened by what Eddie had said, "and how did you imagine it?" 

"Well…" Eddie matched the gravel in Buck's voice, "you wouldn't have planned one on my cheek, that's for damn sure."

"Where would you have me plant it instead?" Buck looked between Eddie's full lips and to the warm chocolate of his eyes. From this close, Buck was able to see every one of Eddie’s eyelashes fanning onto his cheeks and eyelids. 

"Buck…" Eddie all but growled, one hand gripping the back of Buck's neck and applying a gentle squeeze. 

"Eds," Buck whispered teasingly.

"Kiss me. Now, Buckley." 

And with that, Buck placed his lips to Eddie's, and it was like finally giving in to the magnetic pull that had been set in motion all those years ago. 

They moved easily and with coordination the same way they did when working together. They were always so aware of the other's presence. 

Greedy hands ran over each other, squeezing, pulling, grasping. 

Breaking away for air, Eddie held Buck in place with his signature hand on the shoulder, thumb unashamedly stroking across his thrumming pulse point. 

"I am so in love with you Evan Buckley. Jesus, how long have I been in love with you?" 

"Probably about as long as I have been in love with you, Eddie Diaz."

"Did you know?"

"I don't know. I didn't think so but…it all seems so obvious now. How did we miss this?" Buck asked with a breathless laugh. 

"We're idiots?" Eddie offered. 

"Well then, I'm your idiot. And you are mine." 

"Deal." 

Eddie and Buck spent plenty of time over the next few weeks discovering just how tactile they could be with each other. 

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Steve Rogers talks with you about toast

When I was eleven years old, my Ma came home with a pop-up toaster. 

It was 1929, and things were not going well for the American people. It was November, and the weather was getting cold. Food was getting a little hard to come by. Thankfully, Ma had a little job security, being a hospital nurse and all, but it wasn’t a sure thing. She knew she could be cut loose at any moment. 

But that night, plugging in our little metal toaster for the first time, she said “things may look bleak, Stevie. But at least we’ll have good toast.” 

When I got out of the ice, one of the biggest things that caused me anxiety was the idea that I wouldn’t like any of the new food available in the twenty-first century; that things would have changed so much that there would be nothing recognizable about what ended up on my dinner plate.

On my first day, Nick Fury took me out to breakfast. We didn’t talk much about what he wanted from me. We didn’t talk about what had happened to me. 

We talked about the menu. 

And on that menu? 

Rye toast.

I smiled so hard when I saw it that my face hurt.

Here’s something you might not know: Sarah Rogers and Winifred Barnes were very close friends. Neighbors, yes, and their sons were inseparable, but as two single mothers trying to make ends meet, they did all they could to support each other and keep each other safe. Mrs. Barnes didn’t speak much English, and she couldn’t read or write it, so when things came up that required explanation, my Ma was always there for her. 

And in return, Mrs. Barnes would make extra food for us. Ma worked, and she wasn’t really much of a cook, to be honest, god rest her soul.

But Winifred Barnes was amazing. And she was very good at lucking into food. A crate of potatoes once fell off of a truck right at her feet, and that tiny Jewish woman dragged it eight blocks home, and nobody stopped her. Neighbors and friends would hand her cuts of meat they didn’t know how to cook, and we’d all feast like kings. She kept ten bags of flour in her home at all times, even during the worst years of the depression. 

“Du hast mel, du hast broyt.” 

Yiddish for: “you have flour, you have bread.” 

Which brings me back to toast. 

In those days, butter, jam…hard to come by. We’d put gravy on the toast. Creamed corn. Ma read about tomato gravy: tomatoes, salt, flour. They used to put that on biscuits in the south.  

Every so often, Mrs. Barnes would luck her way into a box of fruit, and she’d make jam out of what she got. It was a treat back then! Sweet and sticky and satisfying. 

Now, today, it feels like there are endless things to put on toast. The most popular being egg, cheese and meat. 

Picture this: It’s three in the morning, you’ve just gotten your face punched in by a guy who should be dead, but keeps coming back, really for the specific purpose of punching you in the face. You turn a corner, and there is a lone shop with a light on. A corner bodega. You step in, and the clerk behind the counter’s first instinct is to reach for the emergency button under the counter, but then he recognizes your bruised face, and the shield you’re sliding into the holder on your back.

And he smiles. 

You limp up to the counter and you give a polite hello, even though one of your eyes is swelling shut a little, and request a sausage, egg and cheddar on an onion bagel.

Believe me, you’re not kissin’ anybody tonight, enjoy the onion.

And he hurries to make it for your, and you grab two waters out of the cold case: one for drinking and one for your face, and you pay (he offers it for free, but you insist, so he discounts it heavily), and soon, you’re eating your hot, gooey toasted bagel sandwich, leaning on the counter, chatting with the clerk about life, and how you wish New York had the climate to grow lemon trees, because lemons are so useful.

You may ask, “But Steve, that’s a bagel sandwich, that’s not really toast.” You toast the bagel, don’t you? Toast in my book.

You go home. You get a little sleep. You take a hot shower, and thank god that eye is healing up pretty well now, and then…

You pop some rye bread in your toaster, and once it’s popped, you scrape just a little butter on it, and then slather sweet, rich strawberry jam right on top. 

It’s quiet. There’s coffee. The toast has a good crunch, and the rye is thick enough to stand up to all that spread. 

And it’s a little piece of heaven right in your kitchen.

I keep hearing about avocado toast. People get really nuts about it, and I have to admit, I don’t get the hype, nor do I get the naysayers. This idea that an entire generation is too busy eating a fruit on a piece of toasted bread to get a job seems like something somebody who dislikes unions and paying fair wages would say. 

That’s an essay for another time.

For my money, if I’m going to be fancy about my toast, it’s going to involve fish and cream cheese. There were quite a few appetizing stores (shops that sell smoked and pickled fish instead of deli meat) in Brooklyn when I was a teen, and when we had a little money to burn, Bucky and I would hit one and I would get pickled herring: sour and fishy and filling as it was. 

And I know that’s not trendy now. It’s not what most people eat. But you might be surprised at how good it is if you give it a shot.

These days, when the mood strikes, I sneak into Russ and Daughters on Houston Street. I order my pickled herring and cream cheese on a toasted onion bagel (whoever I’m kissing is just going to have to suffer), a piece of cinnamon babka and a coffee. 

When Bucky is in town, he goes all out: lox and sable with dill horseradish cream cheese on a toasted everything bagel. He, too, does not care what the person he’s kissing thinks of his breath.

The bagels are always toasted perfectly. Browned and crisp, melting the cream cheese a little so the consistency is gooey and a good contrast to the cold, salty fish. 

I’ve decided, now that I have a little more free time, that I’m going to start making my own bread at home. See if I can get good at it. I do okay in the kitchen (Buck is way better than I am, having learned under his mother’s feet), and I’m hoping to get better. 

At the very least, I’ll have some toast

[acacia-may]

A Family Where There Once Was None

Description: In the future, the Black Bulls gather together at the beach with their families causing Asta to reflect on his life’s journey and the family he found along the way.

Rating: G

Warnings: Mentions Pregnancy, A character accidentally gets hit in the head

Fandom: Black Clover

Genre: Black Bulls Squad as Family; Domestic Fluff

Relationships: The Black Bulls Squad as Family is main focus. There is some Asta/Noelle, and Asta, Noelle & Their Children. There are a few hints at Grey/Gauche and Rill/Charmy. (Henry/My OC is also briefly mentioned). The rest is left intentionally ambiguous so choose your own adventure.

Characters: Asta (POV Character), Noelle Silva, Liebe, Charmy Pappitson, Vanessa Enoteca, Finral Roulacase, Finesse Calmreich, Yami Sukehiro, Zora Ideale, Nacht Faust, Gauche Adlai, Grey, The Black Bulls Family, Lorelei (Swallow) Legolant (OC), and the Children: (Katsu, Marceline, Tirion, Lia, Kalon, Narah, Asa, Toshi, Mira, Summer, Daphne, Rye, Anni, Altan, Licita, and Kai).

Word Count: 4905

Link to original post on AO3. Please do not repost to another site.

This story was written for Black Bulls Month Day 3: Found Family. I checked with the organiser and got the greenlight for this idea so hopefully what I've written still fits the prompt. I honestly can't believe I actually got this finished in time! 😅

Story Below the Cut! Thank you for reading!

“Dad! Dad! Come see my sandcastle!” Licita’s bare feet made a trail of excited footprints as she ran straight for Asta. Beaming, he scooped his daughter up in his arms causing her to giggle before she grabbed his hand and dragged him off towards the town of sandcastles she and several of her Black Bulls cousins had been building with their Uncle Rill. Judging by the ice cream smeared all over her face, Rill’s daughter Anni had seemingly been distracted from her own sandcastle by snacks leaving her dad to finish it on his own—not that he seemed to mind much since he didn’t even notice Asta wave at him as he walked by. Captain Yami’s son, Katsu, and Lia Roulacase seemed to be equally caught up in their work and, if Asta had to guess, some sort of competition to see whose sandcastle would be the biggest—though they did both find the time to quickly wave back at him. On the other side of their sandcastles, Liebe, in what Noelle affectionately referred to as his “cutesy form,” was smoothing the wall of a much smaller and less elaborate structure.  

“This one is mine,” said Licita excitedly—her little blonde pigtails bobbing as she talked. 

Asta beamed at her. “It’s beautiful!” 

“I’ll show you around, Dad!” Licita’s eyes sparkled with pride as she dragged Asta around the sand structure. She pointed to a cluster of shells stuck into one of the mounds of sand. “That’s the door. Narah helped me find seashells to make it. Narah didn’t make a sandcastle, but she was helping build mine before she went to get more seashells.”  

Asta’s smile widened. Narah Roulacase had inherited her father’s kind heart and had always been particularly attached to Licita seeing her more as a little sister than just a little cousin. “That’s really nice of her.” 

“Narah is really nice. I like her a lot. I like all my cousins!” Licita prattled excitedly with a smile that seemed to fill her tiny face. “Did you see Lia and Katsu’s sandcastles? They’re really big!” 

“Yes, I saw them when we came over,” chuckled Asta. “But your sandcastle is really big too, Licita, and I love all the windows!” 

“Uncle Liebe made those. I’m making this sandcastle for him to stay in, and I want to be big enough. Can you help us, Dad?” 

“Sure,” said Asta as he reached for a nearby shovel. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he glanced over at Liebe who had returned to work—carving another window in the sand. Asta knew that if he had even jokingly suggested making a sandcastle for Liebe, Liebe probably would’ve crossed his arms and scowled at him, but he had such a soft spot for his niece that these days he could be caught building sandcastles, having tea parties, playing dress up, and doing a wide variety of other things, Asta could have never imagined Liebe doing before Licita was born. Asta wondered if it was perhaps how much his daughter took after him and her namesake that caused Liebe to be so attached to her or perhaps it was all the ways she was like Noelle—her smile, the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed, how her shoulders stiffened and she fidgeted when she was nervous. Liebe and Noelle had bonded so much over the years, and she had once confided in him that Liebe, despite only being her brother-in-law, felt as much like her brother as Nozel, possibly even more so. 

At the thought of his brother-in-law, Asta glanced towards the ocean where Nozel was standing at the water’s edge holding onto the hands of his young daughter, Acier, who giggled as the water crashed against her feet in tiny little waves. It had been Asta’s idea to invite him and his family along with them to Racque—after talking it over with Noelle, of course—and he liked to think Nozel was grateful to be there, even if he did look a bit exhausted, probably from chasing his twin boys up and down the beach earlier. 

Asta was at least pleased to see that he looked happier to be there than Langris, who Finral had invited along for, Asta presumed, much the same reason that he and Noelle had invited Nozel and who had unfortunately, despite ample amounts of sunscreen, gotten horribly burned on their first day. Asta chuckled a bit to himself remembering how Vanessa had teased him for looking like a beached lobster at dinner the previous evening, but immediately felt sorry for it. Despite still being a bit red, Langris seemed to be doing alright now—collecting seashells with his son and his niece not a few yards away from the sandcastle village. Asta wondered if Narah was collecting seashells for her older sister’s sandcastle too or just Licita’s. 

It warmed Asta’s heart to see everyone together again. He was sure that most of his former squad mates must have felt the same way since they had all jumped at Vanessa’s idea for everyone to meet at the beach in Racque that summer. Asta and Noelle had been some of the first to commit to the idea and had been planning the trip for months. Of course, that had been before Noelle had found out she was expecting their third child—or the ’tie breaker’ as Luck liked to refer to the baby—and despite Asta’s reassurances that they wouldn’t have to go if it was going to be too much for her, his wife, in that strong, determined way of hers, had insisted that they keep their vacation plans. She had already had two children, she had reasoned, so she knew what she was dealing with, and Asta trusted her judgment. Still, that didn’t change the fact that he was a bit worried about her being in the heat and bright sun for so long when she was so heavily pregnant. He was sure he wasn’t alone in this type of concern seeing as he and Noelle weren’t the only ones expecting—even if their baby was due the soonest. 

Asta glanced over at the cabana Henry had set up which Zora had nicknamed “the nest” with a sort of affection on account of all the new or expectant mothers congregating there. Noelle was lounging there now, positively in stitches over Henry’s wife, Lorelei, balancing a tower of seashells on the wide curve of her abdomen. She was due a month after Noelle and had recently knitted a set of matching booties for her baby and theirs since she was determined that they should grow up to be friends. Finesse, who was giggling behind her hand, had also been given a set of booties as she was due nearly two months later and was sporting quite the bump of her own which was a source of much stress, worry, and fussing for everyone, her husband and brother-in-law especially, given her often delicate health. Not an hour ago, Vanessa had told them all to calm down and stop worrying for what had to be the fifteenth time that day, but she too had been keeping a watchful eye on her. She had been looking out for Lorelei and Noelle too, which Asta appreciated. He was sure that Henry did as well especially while his attention was focused on watching his boys splashing around in the shallow water. 

It seemed that Vanessa’s strong maternal streak, which Asta had always admired, had only intensified when she had children. Even now, she was helping Charmy pass out water and snacks to the other ladies despite the fact that she could probably benefit from some rest and relaxation of her own considering the fact that she too was, as she called it, “unexpectedly expecting” and seemed to be at that uncomfortably round stage of pregnancy, though she swore she wasn’t nearly as far along as she looked. Still her little one would be also arriving this year along with the rest of the new Black Bulls cousins, and her baby’s matching set of Lorelei’s booties appeared to still be a work in progress—attached to some temporarily forgotten knitting needles. It brought the brightest smile to Asta’s face. He couldn’t wait for all the children to get to grow up together. 

He was also glad to see Noelle in such bright spirits, despite being a little bit squished given the wide curve in her belly and the two little boys who were currently leaning on her like a pillow that is. Almos Silva, the elder of Nozel’s twins whom Asta had affectionately nicknamed ‘Al’ much to his father’s chagrin when the nickname had stuck, was particularly fond of his Aunt Noelle and had fallen asleep leaning against her side at nearly every family gathering Asta could think of. This time, however, he had company, as Kai, Asta and Noelle’s two-year-old son, had curled up next to his mother and fallen asleep on her other side with a half-eaten and now melting popsicle in his hand. Asta couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he watched Noelle chuckle at her attempts to fan herself without upsetting her sleeping son and nephew. 

His laughter must’ve startled her as she turned towards him with a slight shrug and playful roll of her eyes. Asta beamed at her before turning back to his daughter. 

“I’m going to check on your mom real quick. I’ll be right back.”

Licita smiled and nodded. “Tell her about my sandcastle, okay?” 

Asta beamed and nodded at her before making his way towards Noelle. Even by the time, he had walked over to the umbrella, Charmy and Vanessa were still busy handing out large glasses of water with festive umbrella straws to the group. 

“Here,” Charmy said handing him one. “Drink up. We don’t want anybody getting dehydrated. Take Noelle’s too.” 

“Thanks, Charmy!” said Asta as she handed him another cup with a different coloured straw, before she turned to Grey whose hands were currently full, rocking her daughter, Mira, to sleep. Amira Adlai was the first girl in a long line of boys and a generally fussy baby, but she looked so peaceful now as she slept. Charmy gave Grey an understanding nod and thoughtfully placed her cup next to her on a small folding table as Asta took a seat next to his wife and sleeping son and nephew. 

He rubbed her back gently with his free hand. “You doing okay, Noelle? Do you want to go back to the hotel and rest?” 

“I’m fine,” she assured him with a slight smile. 

“At least let me take, Kai,” he said reaching out to scoop up his son. Kai stirred but quickly nestled into Asta’s shoulder and drifted back off to sleep. “Well, someone needs a nap,” Asta chuckled affectionately ruffling his fingers gently through his son’s silvery hair. 

Asta thought Kai must be exhausted from playing around in the water with him and his uncles. Though Asta had ducked out about an hour ago, from what he could tell, Magna and Luck were still engaged in an intense splash fight with several nieces and nephews, and every few minutes or so, “Asa, stop turning into me!” or “Kalon, get down from there!” would echo across the beach followed by Asa Adlai, transformed into one of the Silvas, giggling at having drenched Uncle Magna again with borrowed water magic, Rye Boismortier complaining that he was starving before painting up a popsicle or an ice cream cone for himself, or little Summer Legolant running up the beach hand and hand with Daphne Agrippa excitedly exclaiming that she had found yet another hermit crab for the growing collection of “friends” that Gordon was keeping a watchful eye on in a nearby tide pool. In other words, the same kind of fun chaos the Black Bulls had enjoyed back in the day—just with a few more, younger members. That reminded him…

“Oh, Licita wanted me to tell you that she’s building a sandcastle for Liebe. I think she wants you to come see it when she’s done. As long as you’re up for it.” 

Noelle tilted her head at him with an almost bantering exasperation. “Bakasta…” 

Asta’s mouth twitched into a smile at the nickname which his wife only used in an affectionate and, generally, playfully annoyed way these days. “Sorry. I know. I just want to make sure you and the baby are okay,” he said as he pressed his hand to her stomach. 

“Don’t worry. We’re taking good care of her,” reassured Vanessa with a kind smile. “And I swear Nozel has been over here every five minutes to make sure she’s drinking enough water.” 

Noelle rolled her eyes and sighed. Asta knew that her only reservation about inviting Nozel along was that he would probably be fussing over her constantly, and, naturally, being Nozel, he was. “I told him I’m fine,” she huffed. “He’s such a worrier.” 

“I think that it’s sweet that he cares about you so much,” said Finesse in her soft and gentle way. 

Vanessa laughed. “Of course, you would say that,” she teased, and a pale rose filled Finesse’s cheeks. 

“I like when he brings his daughter over. She’s so cute,” gushed Charmy. “All those Silva babies with their big, pretty eyes!” She turned to Noelle and Asta with a bright smile.  “Who do you think this one will take after?” 

Asta and Noelle looked at each other thoughtfully. Their third little one was a tie breaker in this way as well since Licita looked more like Asta and Kai looked more like Noelle. He shrugged. “Dunno. What do you think, Noelle?” 

Noelle’s brow furrowed. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see…” she conceded with a sigh. 

“Just don’t mention it around Zora or Magna or they’ll start a betting pool again,” joked Vanessa with a wink. 

“Where is Zora anyway?” asked Charmy.

“He said something about going with Finral to go pick up some watermelon,” replied Vanessa with a shrug. 

Charmy frowned. “We have enough food already.” 

“I think it’s for a game,” chimed Grey quietly enough that she wouldn’t wake the sleeping baby. 

As if on cue, Finral and Zora suddenly appeared through a shimmery portal. 

“Hey, we got watermelon!” Zora yelled at the chaotic group of kids still playing in the water with Luck and Magna. Finral, however, turned to the cabana with a weary sigh. 

“Sorry about that. Did we miss anything?” Everyone seated under the cabana shook their heads. “Good. Zora was very insistent about getting everyone together for some watermelon splitting but couldn’t find any watermelon so I told him I’d portal him to the market to pick some up. He’s a very slow shopper though…” 

“He was probably just stalling so he could get a break from all the chaos around here,” laughed Vanessa. 

Finral shrugged but chuckled, “Yeah probably. I think he picked up every single watermelon they had, and—” He paused holding up a hand to the group. “Hold on just a second…” 

In an instant, he had pulled his son, Kalon, gently through a portal. Kalon’s brow furrowed confusedly, but he beamed at him. “Thanks, Dad!” 

“Please be careful, Kalon. How did you even get up there?” 

Kalon, however, didn’t seem to hear him as his attention had turned to Asta and Noelle. “Oh hi, Uncle Asta. You and Aunt Noelle are still married right?” 

“What?” Noelle’s confused exclamation caused her sleeping son and nephew to stir, but they swiftly drifted back off again as Asta double-checked that ring on his left hand, just to be sure. 

“Yeah, we’re still married and very happy.” 

“Oh good! I’m glad!” Kalon’s smile widened, and he turned to glance over his shoulder exclaiming, “Tirion, don’t worry! Uncle Asta and Aunt Noelle are still married so it’s okay!”  

Reaching the edge of the cabana after, Asta presumed, running after Kalon, a particularly flushed Tirion ran a hand through his already messy pink hair before rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “Thank goodness. I was really worried for a minute,” he sighed in relief before being pulled into a hug by his mother, Vanessa. It seemed to visibly calm him, and his face softened to a gentle smile. 

“Kalon, what did you do?” asked Noelle with a stern but affectionate sigh. 

“Nothing,” he insisted before he noticed his father’s pointed tilt of his head at him and fidgeted a little. “Well not nothing, but nothing bad…” 

“Kalon, we talked about this, remember?” Finral said—his voice kind but a bit weary. “No time traveling when we’re on vacation.” 

“Sorry, Dad. It was an accident. But don’t worry, I didn’t break any of the rules on the list—I don’t think but I don’t know because I didn’t have it with me because I didn’t want it to get wet and I’m not supposed to time travel on vacation.” Kalon nodded empathically with a bright, cheerful smile. “I was just checking with Uncle Asta to be sure, and everything is okay. I don’t think anything could break up Uncle Asta and Aunt Noelle. Young Aunt Noelle really, really likes him. I can tell.”

Asta stifled a bit of chuckle at the faint blush of pink that filled Noelle’s cheeks even after all these years.

“I’m sure, your Uncle Asta really liked her too,” suggested Finral, and Kalon nodded. 

“He’s just more sneaky about it.” 

Vanessa and Charmy could scarcely contain their laughter, and even Grey chuckled quietly to herself, always careful of the sleeping baby in her arms. Noelle glared at them with an almost playful roll-of-her eyes, though she did give a genuinely grateful nod to Finesse who was kind enough not to have laughed though she gave Kalon a gentle smile and pat on the head. 

“Please be careful, Kalon,” she said, and Kalon nodded. 

“I will—Ooh popsicles! Can I have one Aunt Charmy?” 

Charmy shrugged but motioned to one of her sheep to bring Kalon a popsicle. “Do you want one tool, Tirion?” she asked. He smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, please.” 

When Kalon and Tirion had both run off with their popsicles, Finral wearily took a seat in an empty chair next to Grey and turned apologetically to Asta and Noelle. “Sorry about that. He’s still learning how to use his magic. I don’t think he has messed anything up too badly yet…” His voice trailed as his brow furrowed. “But I guess we wouldn’t really know if he had, right? Since the future would be different…?” He rubbed his temples. “I don’t know…” 

Asta shrugged. He didn’t know either and thinking about it too much made his head hurt, but he smiled and reassured Finral, “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s fine. Besides Noelle and I are pretty solid”—he smiled brightly at his wife—“I don’t think he could break us up.” 

“You should worry more about your own relationship” said Noelle with a frown. “If he messes that up, he'll make himself not exist.” 

Finral sighed. “That’s what keeps me up at night…”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” chimed Charmy with a shake of her head. “If she was going to settle for you once, she’d definitely do it again.”

Noelle snorted a laugh, and Finesse gasped, covering her mouth with her hand while Vanessa scolded, “Charmy!” She huffed but rolled her eyes with an almost playful affection before turning to Finral, “Don’t listen to her. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

“And you should take advantage of the time you have to catch up on some sleep,” teased Lorelei Legolant. “You’ll have a baby keeping you up all night pretty soon.” 

“The baby’s keeping me up now,” sighed Finral wearily, running his hand through his hair. “Not to mention all the nieces and nephews…” 

“I wish you wouldn’t worry so much, especially about us,” Finesse said. 

Vanessa comfortingly patted his arm. “You worry too much. It’s not going to help and will only end up hurting you, you know? You’re going to make yourself sick.” 

“I know. But really—how are all of you? Can I get anyone anything? Noelle is there—?” 

“Asta is taking very good care of Noelle and he and Nozel have cornered the market on worrying about her,” interrupted Vanessa. “Honestly, they’re about as fussy over her as you and Langris are over Finesse.” 

Finral sighed. “I really am sorry about that…” 

“Here, sit down and drink this,” said Charmy, handing him some water with a colorful straw. “You look awful.” 

“Thanks Charmy,” he muttered sarcastically before running his hand through his hair. 

“You look tired,” Vanessa corrected. “Did you sleep at all last night?” 

Finral sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with a yawn. “Around 2:30, Kalon completely kicked me out of bed—literally. I couldn’t get back to sleep after that.” 

“It’s probably karma,” quipped Charmy. 

Vanessa rolled her eyes before she patted Finral’s back. “Maybe you should go take a nap. There’s plenty of adults around to keep an eye on the kids.”

“I don’t need—” His protest was cut off by a yawn, and Vanessa blinked at him.

“Please, Finral,” sighed Finesse, and he shrugged his shoulders and conceded. 

“Alright, but only if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”

With a smile, Vanessa waved her hand at him. “We’ve got this. I mean, we’ve been here all day without any emergencies or injuries.” 

“You jinxed it, Vanessa!” huffed Noelle as their long-retired captain made his way up the beach holding his crying daughter, Marceline. 

“Charmy, you got any ice back there?” he called as he neared the cabana. 

“What happened to her?” asked Noelle in concern, gasping, Asta could only presume at the big, purple bump on her forehead. 

“Toshi accidentally hit her in the head when he was trying to split the watermelon.” 

Sure enough, there was Gauche running up to the cabana holding a shaking, rattling teacup and saucer which Asta supposed would probably seem very odd to anyone who didn’t know that Toshi Adlai had a bad habit of turning into inanimate objects whenever he got stressed or upset. “Is Marceline okay?” asked Gauche, handing Grey the tea cup as she handed him baby Mira in exchange. 

“She’ll be fine,” grunted Yami, taking a towel and a block of ice from Charmy and pressing it to his daughter’s forehead. He turned to Marceline who stared at him with teary blue eyes. “You’re okay,” he reassured her. Marceline sniffled but nodded.

“Is Toshi okay?”  asked Asta turning to Grey who shrugged her shoulders as the teacup rattled in her hands.

“Everyone knows it was an accident,” said Gauche shaking his head as he rocked the baby. “You don’t have to get all upset about it.”

“I didn’t…mean to…Dad…” cried a particularly weepy Toshi Adlai as he transformed back into a little boy caught in a hug by his mother. “Marceline, I’m so sorry!”

Crossing her tiny arms, Marceline wrinkled her nose and frowned at him. “You’re a moron.”

Most of Asta’s companions began to stifle laughs, and even the former Captain Yami struggled to hold back a grin as he grunted, “That wasn’t nice.”

“But you say it all the time, Dad…”  Marceline argued causing most of her aunts and uncles to burst out laughing. Before Yami could scramble to salvage the situation, Toshi started to cry harder.

“No. No, Toshi, it’s okay,” soothed Grey patting his head comfortingly, before he turned into a butter dish. “Gauche!” she called turning to her husband in concern.

Gauche, however, just let out a long weary sigh. “Just leave him. He’ll be fine.”

“Is Marceline, okay?” interjected Nacht as he appeared in the doorway to the cabana with Zora who practically beamed as he turned to Gauche.

“Your son’s got one hell of an arm.”

“Swear jar.” Nacht frowned, holding up the colorfully decorated swear jar Gordon had made. Huffing, Zora dug through his pocket for some spare Yul and dropped two coins into the jar. Despite this only being the second day of their trip, it sounded pretty full to Asta.

“What are we going to do with the swear jar money when it’s full?” asked Zora with a bitter shake of his head.

“We could buy a cake,” Charmy suggested.

Noelle’s eyes narrowed. “It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“Okay well, you can buy me a cake and watch me eat it.” Charmy hummed thoughtfully, and Noelle huffed.

“What if we gave it to charity?” asked Asta. “To an orphanage maybe?”

“Good idea, Asta.” Finral smiled at him but yawned and tiredly rubbed his eyes. “Sorry…”  

“You still need that nap,” said Vanessa with a light, good-natured chuckle.

Finral sighed. “Eh, I’ll sleep when the kids are grown up and out of the house.”

“That’s gonna be awhile,” said Yami dryly as Charmy and Zora didn’t even try to hide her snickering. Before anyone could protest, however, Licita came running up the beach with a somewhat panicked Liebe in tow, now at his full height trying to catch up with her

“Mama! Mama! Mama!” she yelled, excitedly grabbing Noelle’s hand and pulling her towards the door. “My sandcastle is done! Come see! Come see!”

“Okay. Okay. Just a second,” said Noelle with a smile. Asta knew that Noelle would have probably been the first to admit it was getting harder and harder for her to get around quickly now that she was nearing the end of her pregnancy so he offered her his arm. “Thanks,” she mumbled as she stood up from her seat with a glance towards Al to see if she had accidentally woken him. Asta stifled a chuckle. His nephew really could sleep through anything and had barely stirred despite all the commotion. Kai, however, was beginning to fidget and yawned before Asta laid him down on the chair and Noelle tucked him in gently with a nearby beach towel asking if their friends wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on him for a minute.

With Asta’s hand in one hand and Noelle’s in the other, Licita led her mother and father towards the sandcastle village. Katsu and Lia were still hard at work on theirs, and Anni and Rill appeared to be making a moat or trench of some kind.

“This is mine, Mama!” said Licita triumphantly as she began pointing out her sandcastle. “It’s really for Uncle Liebe, but it has rooms for everybody! You and Dad and me and Kai, but all the aunts and uncles too and the cousins can all play together right here.” She pointed to one of the mounds of sand. “And there’s a big kitchen for Aunt Charmy and Anni and Rye, and this is where Uncle Gordon and Uncle Gauche and Aunt Nene can show me and Narah and Genevieve how to do crafts. And over here we can play hide and seek with Toshi and Kalon and Summer and Uncle Finral and Aunt Grey. And there’s lots of shelves with books for Uncle Nozel to read to me and Al and Adler and Acier. And there’s a really big yard where Uncle Magna and Uncle Luck and Uncle Zora can show us how to play really fun games. And here’s a fireplace where Uncle Yami can tell us all stories if Katsu and Hana and Marceline ask him to. It’s big enough for the whole family! Do you like it?” Licita turned back towards them with the brightest, beaming smile, but her little brow furrowed as she tilted her head in concern. “What’s the matter, Mama?”

Asta turned to Noelle to find her wiping glistening tears from the corners of her eyes. She sniffled but reassured Licita, “Nothing. It’s okay. I’m just”—her face softened into a gentle smile—“really happy.” Asta took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew without the look she gave him that the tears were mainly a result of the pregnancy wreaking havoc on her mood, but he also knew what it meant to her to see their daughter’s sandcastle, thoughtfully made big enough for her whole family, a family that, at Licita’s age, Noelle could have only dreamed of. How much it meant to her to know that Licita would get to grow up surrounded by a whole group of people who loved her and would have everything that Noelle never got to have before joining up with the Black Bulls.

“I love it!” said Noelle as she scooped up a giggling Licita in her arms.

“Do you want to help me build more of it, Mama?”

Noelle beamed at her. “Of course. Maybe a nice nest for your Aunt Secre, hm?”

As Licita cheerfully prattled about Aunt Secre’s nest, Asta watched as Noelle glanced from the sandcastle, to the cabana filled with cheerful chattering and laughter of their former squad mates, to all of the happy children, their beloved nieces and nephews, running up the beach or splashing around in the water. She smiled, and as she turned to look at him now, no words were needed. He understood—knew Noelle must feel it too, that warm, safe feeling as if everything that had come before, all the sadness, loneliness and pain of the past was just a distant memory now. They were finally home.

[brightdeadthing]

- Ocean Vuong, from Time Is a Mother (text under the cut)

We are shoveling snow, this man and I, our backs coming closer along the drive. It’s so quiet every flake on my coat has a life. I used to cry in a genre no one read. What a joke, they said, on fire. There’s no money in it, son, they shouted, smoke from their mouths. But ghosts say funny things when they’re family. This man and I, we take what will vanish anyway and move it aside, making space. There is so much room in a person there should be more of us in here. Traveler who is inches away but never here, are you warm where you are? Are you you where you are? Something must come of this. In one of the rooms in the house the man and I share, a loaf of rye is rising out of itself, growing lighter as it takes up more of the world. In humans, we call this Aging. In bread, we call it Proof. We’re in our thirties now and I rolled the dough just an hour ago, pushing my glasses up my nose with a flour-dusted palm as I read, reread, the hand-scrawled recipe given me by the man’s grandmother, the one who, fleeing Stalin, bought a ticket from Vilnius to Dresden without thinking it would stop, it so happened, in Auschwitz (it was a town after all), where she and her brother were asked to get off by soldiers who whispered, keep moving, keep moving like boys leading horses through wheat fields in the night. How she passed the huddled coats, how some were herded down barbed-wired lanes. The smoke from our mouths rising as the man and I bend and lift, in silence, the morning clear as one inside a snow globe. How can we know, with a house full of bread, that it’s hunger, not people, that survives? He pours a bag of salt over the pavement. From where I’m standing it looks like light is spilling out of him, like the dusty sunray that found his grandmother’s hands as she got back on the train, her brother at her side, smoke from the engine blown across the faces outside, which soon fell back into pine forests, washed pastures, empty houses with full rooms. The man clutches his stomach as if shot, the light floods out of him—I mean you. Because something must come of this. When the guard asked your grandmother if she was Jewish, she shook her head, half-lying, then took from her bag a roll, baked the night before, tucked it in the guard’s chest pocket. She didn’t look back as the train carried her, newly twenty, toward where I now stand, on a Sunday in Florence, Massachusetts, squinting at her faded scrawl: sift flour, then beat eggs until happy-yellow. The train will reach Dresden days before the sky is filled with firebombers. More smoke. A bullet or shrapnel, failing to find her. The brother under rubble, his name everywhere outside her like the snow falling on your face forty years later, on December 2, 1984, while your mother carries you, alive only three hours, the few steps to the mini-van where your grandmother, sixty now, crowns your head with her brother’s name. Peter, she says, Peter, as if the dead could be called back into new, stunned bones. The snow has started up again, whitening the path as though nothing happened. But to live like a bullet, to touch people with such intention. To be born going one way, toward everything alive. To walk into the world you never asked for and choose a place where your wanting ends—which part of war do we owe this knowledge? It’s warm in this house where we will die, you and I. Let the stanza be one room, then. Let it be big enough for everyone, even the ghosts rising now from this bread we tear open to see what we’ve made of each other. I know, we’ve been growing further apart, unhappy but half full. That clearing snow and baking bread will not fix this. I know, too, as I reach across the table to brush the leftover ice from your beard, that it’s already water. It’s nothing you say, laughing for the first time in weeks. It’s really nothing. And I believe you. I shouldn’t, but I do.

[wolverteen]

baked grace

cw nothing but fluff, maybe a little angst if you squint

sum slightly avoiding home, you're baking with peeta and rye.

pair peeta mellark + victor!reader

a/n baking lemon glazed loaf with peet and rye ughh he’s just so..they’re both so…sue me.

your hands ran through his hair and puffs of flour chalked his golden locks, which he shook out almost immediately. peeta’s hands worked on the half-kneaded dough you prepared the night before. it rose perfectly as the two of you slept and held each other the entire night, leaving little warmth to imagination. “is rye almost here?” he asks you.

usually, when you or his older brother, rye, knead dough, it’s not without grunts of strength, but peeta’s strong arms and capable hands never failed to transport wheat sacks.

“he should be here any minute! i did say six, didn’t i?” you look towards the door and following your words, rye bursts through the doors holding a small bag smeared in white powder from no covering and a pitcher of clear water. “don’t underestimate me, sweetheart,” the older mellark speaks as he sets away the ingredients.

his job was to glaze the soon-to-be-baked bread; the loaf was to be lemon-y and you picked a handful of lemons to make sure the flavor dug in through the abundance of wheat. two fruits were left over for rye to flavor the sugary topping with zest. you smirk and hop on the other counter, away from the subtle white clouds and your loving boyfriend.

he glanced at you briefly as you just watched him, rye occasionally moving between the two of you. “what?” he asks with a smile, “wanna come help?”

“nah, you do it well. i’m here if you need a support kiss, though,” you say, bringing a blush to his cheeks. he curved the dough evenly and sets it down in the spread of flour before walking over to you and bringing his lips to yours. peeta’s lips raise and before you could pull away, he places his messy hands on each side of your head, getting flour on your temples and into your hair.

your mouth drops agape, but you didn’t resist the smile of disbelief. “contamination,” he whispers to you, giving another small kiss, but on your cheek. you scoffed, “since when did district twelve care about contamination?”

his strong arms carried you off the countertop and your shoes met the floor; it didn’t bother you to help, but you didn’t have as much experience as the baker’s sons. peeta followed behind you as your stepped to the sink and ran the water along your hands, using the small lye-derived soap bar along your palms. peeta guided you over to the main counter and nodded towards the dough, waiting for your actions. it’s not that you didn’t know what to do, but you just didn’t want to mess up. a few kneading motions later, peeta wiped his hands and grabbed a loaf pan.

you transferred the dough and set it in the oven, which had been given a new batch of coals early in the morning, and shrugged humbly as peeta gave slow claps at the simple task.

“scoot,” rye mumbles as he pushes past the two of you with the bag he held before and two plump lemons. his hands were fresh from a wash and so were the fruits; you handed him a knife to split them and he squeezed them with his other hand underneath to catch seeds, all over a ready bowl. rye uses a large spoon to scoop the powdered sugar into the bowl.

“peeta, the whisk?” he requests in a sharper tone, but he gets it in his hand quick. you shoot the younger brother raised brows with a small smile. rye was particular about glazes and his dark eyes reflected that concentration.

as he whisked, rye tutted down and added more of the sugar. you enjoyed smaller moments like this. being with peeta and not needing a declaration of love to show you that he loves when you’re around and with his family.

yours resided in victor’s village where you wanted them away from questions about the games and capitol by any means. it’s been almost four years since your “victory” and the only people to bring it up since were rye and peeta, but with your consent.

the older mellark only ever expressed curiosity and sympathies when peeta was away and you needed objective advice on how to deal. you couldn’t with peeta, he was always on your side. you’ve come to terms with your actions and you did earn respect throughout the district and districts alike for such.

peeta’s hand brushed yours, “thinking?” he asked. you shook your head and gave a brief flash of teeth. you would save slices of the zesty loaf for your family, but the village was safer and they got comfortable quick. you? you couldn’t not come back. the smell of fresh bread and the comfort of your lover was more than enough to draw you back and make you stay nights in his bed.

“rye, you close to done?” you tapped him and he turned his head and nodded, “mhm.”

the taller brunet soon turned completely and held the bowl close to him and tapped the whisk against the rim. he held the bowl close to you and the whisk to you lips, letting you lick the sweetness off of it before he set it away in the sink. “mmm,” you nodded and smiled, satisfied with his creation. your eyes lit up and peeta moved his hand to your waist from behind, “let me know when you’re done, yeah?” he spoke sarcastically.

rye rolled his eyes. the three of you spent time cleaning up around the kitchen and restocking whatever was delivered at the door. once the loaf finished baking, peeta gathered his oven mitts and took it out, setting it down on the counter to cool. “gonna be good,” he says.

you smell the steam from the bread, a faint lemon scent with a wave of warmth approaching your face. before the loaf could cool completely, it was taken out the pan and set in a cutting board. rye dripped the glaze along the top, tilting the additive to the sides for extra flavor.

rye steps back and discards the materials into the sink, “so..middle piece?” “is mine,” peeta says, leaning on the counter. you already had a knife out and set next to the dessert.

[anotherrevue]

The Top Movies of 2023

Every year I feel like I write the same spiel about the truly concerning  number of movies that I compulsively watched, and then make false promises about being more intentional about my film-watching and my blog-writing. But fear not, there's no overwrought analysis of my film watching this year, just an assurance that, for once, I have stayed true to my word and reduced my annual total by a sizable chunk. It was, however, still a lot. 

Truth be told, I've been trying to write this wrap-up for weeks now, but I found myself enveloped in the gloom that sets in during the first few weeks of any year, except this time the fog seems denser than ever. This is not a reflection on the state of movies right now though. While everything else has either gone to shit or currently in the process, movies have not been this good in 4 years. We're lucky to have some incredible filmmakers return to peak form (Marty S) and others showcase their talent for the first time (Celine Song). 

But this was also the year where domestically (The Kerala Story) and internationally (The Sound of Freedom), we saw an uptick in the mainstream success of conservative films built on the premise that the right-wing needs to go save good innocent people who are being taken advantage of by the savages. And shamelessly, people bought into this mediocre (at best) pandering, simply because it reinforces their narrow world view. As someone who constantly whines about the death of big dumb cinema, if this is the future of spectacle film, I might just be out on it.

Apologies to American Fiction, Poor Things, Ferrari, You Hurt My Feelings, The Boy and the Heron, The Holdovers and All of Us Strangers (all of which I have not yet seen), to Showing Up, King of Kotha, Marlowe, Your Lucky Day, The Boys in the Boat and The Last Voyage of the Demeter (all of which I saw and desperately wanted to love) and to myself for deciding to watch Ghosted, Heart of Stone, White Men Can't Jump and Salaar against my better judgement. 

Here are my top 27 movies of 2023:

27. Bottoms 

26. Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

25. Neelavelicham

24. A Man Called Otto

23. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

22. Barbie

21. LOLA

20. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny

19. Air

18. John Wick: Chapter 4

17. Sanctuary

16. Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning

15. Oppenheimer 

14. Anatomy of a Fall

13. Rye Lane

12. Biosphere

11. Flora & Son

10. Evil Dead Rise

2023 was a spectacularly disappointing year for horror. The biggest hit of the year was Talk to Me, a movie that I liked but is so overwhelmingly despondent that it drowned out the scary aspects of it. Evil Dead Rise on the other hand harkens back to the classic horror franchise format, taking a tried and tested premise (cocky young person accidentally summons the dead) and putting it in an unpredictable new setting (a high rise building). It strikes the perfect balance between nightmarish, gruesome and goofy that makes you yelp and giggle all at once.

9. 2018

This is the type of peak Bruckheimer/Simpson disaster flick that just went away 10 years ago, only scaled down to fit the Malayalam film industry. Does that take away at all from the melodrama or spectacle? Not even a bit. It's incredibly well made and well-balanced emotionally, and the ingenuity of the production design ensures that it will continue to hold-up visually in years to come.

8. Maestro

If we put aside Bradley Cooper's obvious thirst for acknowledgement by the Academy and just look at Maestro on its own, you might get a glimpse of a movie that bends the classic Oscar bait biopic template to its own absurd ends. It's not a "cradle to grave" story nor does it limit its scope to a small, well-defined period in Leonard Bernstein's life. Instead it's much more impressionistic and formally inventive, giving the viewer a feel for who the man was in all aspects of his life. It's in direct conversation with the template of the "great man" biopic, starting down the path of each trope only to veer delightfully off course, whether that's by sidestepping into a dance sequence or literally running away just when a scene starts to feel too cliché.

7. Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.

As a person who cannot stand kid angst, I went into this movie expecting to like it with some reservations, which is very much how I felt about Kelly Fremon Craig's previous movie, The Edge of Seventeen. But Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. rises above the cringey uncomfortable moments we've come to expect from a coming of age story. It's wholesome and heartfelt, but with enough of a bite to it to overcome the usual allegations of saccharinity that are hurtled at a movie of this sort. It's finally perfect, with some great kid performances, and even greater showings from the adults. In particular, Rachel McAdams takes what could have been a put-upon harried mom role and adds just enough humour and sparkle to make her character feel fully fleshed out, without making the whole movie about her.

6. How to Blow Up a Pipeline

Every year there's a movie that feels like it's ripped from the inside of my skull. How to Blow Up a Pipeline is exactly that. It's not for everyone (people have been known to zone out in the first 15 minutes) because it's an intense, violent story about trying to spark a revolution. Here's the thing about this movie, it believes in the power of direct action against corporations. And so do I.

5. Afire

The latest film from Christian Petzold is on this list precisely for that reason. From the first time I watched Phoenix, I realised this was a director I'd want to be following closely. His movies are often strange and unpredictable, unfaltering in their portrayal of the weakest aspects of human nature while still somehow tying together and extremely compelling plot. Afire is to me the strangest of the lot, which is really saying something because his last movie was about a mermaid.

4. Polite Society

Nida Manzoor is not yet a household name, but I can't imagine that'll be the case for much longer. I was first introduced to her work in the excellent British punk rock comedy show We Are Lady Parts (which is about a group of British Muslim girls who start a punk band), and Manzoor brings that culture clash chaos into Polite Society. It manages to take a love of old-school film stunts, an iconic Bollywood number and quick-fire dialogue and roll all that up into an irresistibly charming story about sisterhood.

3. Kaathal: The Core

You might be able to argue that 2018 is on this list because of pure sentimentality and my personal attachment to Kerala. It's my list after all, my predispositions will be on display. Kaathal is not on here for those reasons. It's here because it's a heartfelt, earnest depiction of what being gay might mean in rural Kerala, and it somehow walk the tightrope between idealism and realism in a way that gives the audience hope that the unconditional acceptance of queer identities could be just around the corner. There's almost a straight line from Vijay Sethupathi’s role in Super Deluxe to this, but it's still a real pleasant surprise to see someone of Mammootty’s stature in an Indian film industry use that influence to make such a nuanced, emotional and ultimately hopeful film centred on a queer person. 

2. Past Lives

I could not for a long while explain why this movie hit home for me, but I think I'll give it a go. Past Lives depicts so clearly the struggle I've often felt to not let your present self erase your childhood memories and cultural identity, even if they're conflicting (as they often are). There is a familiar underlying fear in this movie that a happy memory you might have from a past life (if you will) would crumble under any amount of scrutiny, like an ancient paper suddenly exposed to sunlight. I've been told that I'm annoyingly sentimental about goodbyes (more so than usual, if you can imagine that) . After all, it's 2024 and very easy to stay in touch. But I know how easy it is to lose track of people that you loved deeply, like they were family even, simply because the physical and cultural distance was too wide to bridge through just social media. Past Lives made me think of them, and of all the different roads my life might have gone down and how, despite all that, I'd still choose to be where I am today. Schmaltzy, I know, but this is the movie to get in your feelings for.

1. Killers of the Flower Moon

Every year, my number one movie is about storytelling, and this year is no different. It's not a purposeful trend though; I just respond very strongly to movies that play around with the idea that film is the most objective medium for storytelling. Killers of the Flower Moon is a premier example of that sort of subversion, although that doesn't necessarily come through for most of the running time of the movie. Superbly paced and tonally immaculate, Scorsese delivers one of his best films in the seventh decade of his career, and it hinges almost entirely on a perfectly calibrated performance from Lily Gladstone. But this film wouldn't work nearly as well if not for the incredibly nuanced and insightful ending that ends up being a testament to the art of adapting true stories.

***

There were some other bits and bobs from this year that I wanted to share.

As far as TV goes, Lockwood & Co. is perhaps the best new show of the year, despite it getting cancelled after the first season. It's spooky fun designed to satisfy horror mavens without turning away those who are not fond of your usual scares.

Slow Horses continues to be just as clever and callous as ever - a breath of fresh air in a somewhat stale spy-fic landscape.

And if you're looking for a traditional sitcom, there was none better this year than Primo.

As I write this, Killer Mike's Michael just won a whole bunch of Grammys. I've been a fan of him since I first stumbled onto the first Run the Jewels album, and this was the first time in recent memory that the Grammys made the cool choice in the rap categories. The only cooler pick would have been Mick Jenkins' new album, The Promise.

Other albums that I loved from this year include Cracker Island from Gorillaz and Paranoia, Angels, True Love by Christine and the Queens, both excellent entries into the pop-rock category for the year.

***

Also I'm on a podcast now. It's called Stir Fry and it's more regular than this (low bar). Stay tuned to that feed and soon you'll hear me lose my mind about the Billie Eilish song potentially winning and other unhinged Oscar reactions. Stay tuned here, and (fingers crossed) there might be another article soon - lots to write about this year.

[reblrths]

“ peeta , it is a sombre day for all of us here in the capitol . i think we fell in love with the entire everdeen - mellark clan over the years — so tell us , how have the last few days been for our star - crossed lovers ? ”

“ we were overjoyed when you and katniss left the arena together and it has been a pleasure to watch you both grow your family . how is little rye holding up ? ”

— feel free to include more questions & answers , caesar usually has around 5 minutes with each tribute

peeta’s nerves are rampant. they smooth down the front of the suit a few times, look down at the black that hugs their body. no color, no makeup. pure black. if you separate the everdeen-mellarks, you would think nothing of it. it’s when they stand together that you can see the pattern, and if peeta is sure of anything, it’s that the citizens of the capitol will make the necessary connections. as peeta steps out onto that stage, you’d never be able to tell the man was nervous at all. he waves to the crowd, that charming boy next door that they all loved.

“peeta, it is a sombre day for all of us here in the capitol. i think we fell in love with the entire everdeen - mellark clan over the years — so tell us, how have the last few days been for our star - crossed lovers?”

so much can go wrong, so many things must be so perfectly in place for it to go right. peeta has prepared themself, knows the stakes, but they would not sit by and do nothing as it feels they have been since this started. when he takes caesar’s hand, the crowd calms down and waits with bated breath for peeta to divulge what should have been the private last few days of his marriage, but peeta knows better than to give them nothing. he must give them something. “well, caesar, you’ve all been there since the beginning. you could tell me just as well how it feels,” peeta laughs, gesturing out to the crowd with a sad little smile on their lips. none of them seem to catch on to the slight jab he takes at them. “i’m doing what i have been the last twenty years; spending as much time as i can with her. it's never enough, really,” peeta sighs — this part isn’t for show. this part is real. “when we both won, i was so relieved. i got to wake up next to the love of my life every day, and the capitol made that possible. that’s why it’s so... upsetting for it to be taken away, but... i guess... i guess we really are star-crossed lovers after all.”

the cries and crones from the crowd fuel him. the way the capitol bends to his every whim, every lovesick word he spits, every sad puppy dog look he gives them. it eases his nerves a bit; peeta had forgotten how natural this was for him. once he’s in it, it gives him the confidence to continue on with what he’d already planned. they all were trying to stop these games. marriage proposals, pregnancies, and now —

“we were overjoyed when you and katniss left the arena together and it has been a pleasure to watch you both grow your family. how is little rye holding up?”

peeta turns in their seat a bit, glancing off stage and catching their son’s eye — a slight, encouraging nod from him gives peeta their cue. “he’s — well. he’s been better, i can assure you. he’s had… a rough time, caesar,” peeta gives a bitter little laugh and can hear some soft aw’s from the crowd. they play coy now, shaking their head and looking away as if trying to hide their choking up, and when caesar places a hand on their shoulder, they know he will cater to peeta’s sudden covertness.

“peeta,” the host says softly, as though it were a private conversation between two old friends. as if caesar was the only one who has noticed peeta’s mood change from scared husband to bitter mentor. “surely it has been rough. is there any particular reason why, other than how much we will miss our beloved family from twelve?”

this was caesar’s job, to get the juiciest stories from the tributes. peeta had been backstage when caesar had spoken to katniss — he would make the man regret ever insinuating rye was replaceable. peeta glances back at rye once more, knowing the crowd sits on the edge of their seats, as hushed as it is. a father admiring his son is what they all see, but in reality, it is peeta searching for confirmation once more. they smile at each other — small, private, and peeta looks back at caesar. then to the crowd. and back to caesar again. they struggle to even utter the words. “well, you’ve spoken to him. he’s so brave, isn’t he?” peeta smiles once more, hearing the crowd agree. the smile vanishes quickly, replaced by a furrowed brow. “it’s just so unfair. going into an arena is not how i envisioned the last few weeks of my son’s life to go," this is not an immediate cause for concern. for most of those going back in, it would be their last few weeks. peeta hesitates before elaborating. "i would have rather spent them back home with his sister, where he’s at least comfortable, but even that has been taken from him. it’s only right, you know? to let him spend his last days peacefully. even if he won, i’m not sure he’d have enough time left to— to spend with us,” peeta shakes their head, their admission heavy. “either way this plays out, caesar, i’m losing both my wife and my son -- whether one of the tributes take him from me or nature does first.” there’s a bitter twinge to their tone. this is more than sending your child into the games to die, it’s sending in a child already marked for death. peeta waits for the realization to hit the crowd and it comes in waves. it gets louder, and louder, and louder — and when peeta looks over to rye again, they know they succeeded. maybe not in stopping the games — but to make rye’s death unacceptable, and to make katniss more than just a mother protecting her son. she was a mourning mother protecting her son.

if caesar wanted to give his condolences, the crowd has drowned him out as a panicked and exhausted look graces his face — he’s been here all night, listening to outcries from the crowd. he rests a hand on peeta’s shoulder and releases him from the stage, to which peeta gives a tearful, rueful smile to caesar and the crowd before stepping away.

[satisfactory-dreams]

HI SRS HERE!

Sorry for the late reply! I had a final today and had to study for another one too!!

Personally, to answer your question, I HATE the Art vs Paul debate! Paul is a great songwriter and Art is a great singer. They’re both very talented :(. I’ve listened to both their solo careers and I love them (Art doesn’t write his own music, though, but I still love his voice)

I used to love books but I fell out of love with them for a long time :( But that’s okay! There’s so many different mediums of entertainment! Do you have any favorite books? My favorite is To Kill a Mockingbird!!

By the way, I’m trying to get into some more modern music, so if I find anything super cool, I’ll let you know about it!

No problem! Hope your exams are going well ❤ I agree with you I don't like these type of debates either, sometimes it's important to appreciate how two people compliment watch other and make each other better instead of making it into a competition. There is this podcast idk if you heard it called Rivals: Greatest Music Feuds and they have an episode on S&G, and their history. I don't listen to podcasts much but I liked this one and found them through my Beach Boys obsession of last spring 🏄‍♂️🌊

Talking if them, I bought the autobiographies of Brian Wilson, Mike Love and Dennis Wilson's son Scott and really liked them. I really want to read more autobiographies from my favourite artists, and recently I ordered second hand copies Morrissey's and Johnny Marr. What do tou think of autobiographies? Any that you recommend?

As of now I need to read more books to give a better answer but when I was 16 I read Cathcer in the Rye and deeply loved it. Though Kate Bush I also fell deeply in love with Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. I think at the moment it's non-fiction books like autobiographies that i am more interested in at the moment. I'll try to read To Kill A Mockingbird at some point, currently I'm reading Strange Case of Jekyll and Hyde.

Anyway thank you for the ask 🥰

[leefics]

bts scenarios | popular boy au

pairing | individual college student!bts members x college student!reader

genre | angst, fluff, slightly cliché themes

warning/s | mentions of drinking, partying, minor swearing 

word count | 9.58k words (someone needs to stop me PLEASE)

lee’s notes | as much as I hate to admit it, I’m a sucker for the high school cliché trope LMAO. but to switch it up a bit, i decided to put a little spin on the regular popular boy au! so for the next couple of scenarios, each bts member actually represents a different ~popular~ persona in college; from the ridiculously good looking senior to the mysteriously attractive student government president (because don’t we all??)

go to | home / m. list / faq

— k. seokjin (the tycoon’s son)

“Hi (Y/N) dear, could you do me a favor?” The librarian, Ms. Han, asks as you approach her desk.

“Of course, Ms. Han. Where do you need me?” You reply with a smile, the librarian giving you a thankful one in return.

When you became a sophomore, you decided to work part-time at the library. Not because of the salary (which—wasn’t really much anyways), but more so due to the love that you had for the place. From the smell of books to the overall ambience, the library was definitely your safe space.

Ms. Han sighs and looks behind you before nodding towards a certain direction.

“There’s a nice young man over there. I think he needs some help finding a book.” Ms. Han replies, and you nod in understanding.

You follow Ms. Han’s gaze and your eyes widen when they land on a familiar face. It was none other than Kim Seokjin—the well-known son of business tycoon Kim Seokhyung, one of the richest men in Korea. He was a pretty popular guy in your college, not only because of his family background but also because of his good looks. However, the only reason you were familiar with him was because you were both in the same biology class. 

You glance at him and look back to Ms. Han. before giving her a reassuring smile.

“No problem, Ms. Han. I’ll go to him now.” You say, putting down some books on her table.

“Thank you, dear.” Ms. Han replies, getting the pile of books from you.

You walk up to Seokjin and gently tap his shoulder.

“Uhm—hello?” You say, making Seokjin look your way.

“Oh, hi.” Seokjin replies, blinking.

He must not recognize me. You think, scratching the back of your head sheepishly before giving him a small smile.

“Ms. Han said you needed help finding a book?” You ask, and his eyes widen in realization.

“Oh.” Seokjin says, clearing his throat before taking a note out of his pocket.

“Sorry, uhm—here, this is the name and author of the book I’m looking for?” He says, handing you the piece of paper.

Upon reading its contents, you suddenly perk up. 

The Catcher in the Rye. J.D. Salinger.

“Oh! Is this for literature?” You ask, and he seems taken aback as he nods.

“Yeah, I’m taking Mr. Lee’s class. How’d you know?” He replies as you chuckle sheepishly.

“Ah, I had him last school year. Had to borrow the book here too.” You say with a smile before motioning him to follow you as you begin to lead him to the literature shelf.

“That’s cool, how was he?” Seokjin asks, making you hum.

“He was alright, gave good grades. You just have to make sure you know what he’s talking about.” You reply, Seokjin nodding.

“Oh, and a pro-tip, always take notes. I think he favors students more if he sees that they’re paying attention.” You add as you 2 walk into an aisle.

“Thanks, I could probably use that tip. I’m not exactly the best literature student.” Seokjin says with a slightly embarrassed smile, making you laugh.

“No worries, I wasn’t exactly fond of the subject either. Not until I met Ms. Han at least.” You say with a small smile, Seokjin nodding.

“Have you been volunteering here for a long time?” Seokjin asks, making you hum and think about it.

“I think I’ve been here for about a year? I started when I became a sophomore.” You reply.

“Oh, so right around the time we had bio together?” He asks, making your eyes widen as you look at him in surprise.

“I’m surprised you recall.” You say with a chuckle, making Seokjin shrug with a small smile.

“Well, I can’t really forget anything about that bio class after that frog dissection we did.” Seokjin says, his nose crinkling in disgust.

“Ah, that’s true.” You say, shaking your head with a small laugh.

After a few more steps, you stop and scan the shelf on your left. As you try to look for the book, you don’t notice Seokjin staring at you with a slight amusement in his eyes upon seeing how focused you were.

“Ah! Here it is.” You say with a triumphant smile, pulling the book out of the shelf and replacing it with a wooden block so the other books wouldn’t fall.

You turn to Seokjin and hand the book to him. He gives you a grateful smile in return and lifts his hand to get the book from you. But when he gets the book, his hand accidentally brushes against yours.

You both blush at the sudden contact and immediately separate your hands. After a few seconds, you clear your throat and look back at him.

“Let’s go back to the front? I can uh—” You say before pausing suddenly as your mind goes blank.

“—put it on my library card?” Seokjin asks with a chuckle, the amusement clear in his tone.

You quickly flush and chuckle sheepishly as you look down the the floor.

“Yeah, that.” You mumble before quickly walking out of the aisle to return to the front desk.

Seokjin chuckles at your flustered state and follows behind you, skimming through the book in his hand on the way back.

Once you’re back near the front desk, you lead Seokjin to a small table where a big box was located. You pick up the box marked Kim and skim through all the cards before pausing at the name Kim Seokjin. You pick up the card and write down the date and time before handing it to Seokjin.

“Here, just write the name of the book and sign at the bottom.” You say, Seokjin nodding and placing the card on the desk to start filling it up.

As he writes, you secretly steal glances at him, thinking he didn’t notice. But after a few moments, he turns to you and chuckles.

“You’re puzzled, aren’t you?” He says, making you tilt your head to the side.

“What do you mean?” You ask, making him shrug.

“You’re confused. Probably as to why someone with a family like mine is here in a library borrowing a book when I can easily have someone buy a copy for me.” Seokjin states bluntly, and you look at him in disbelief before chuckling.

“Well, regardless of what I’m feeling, it’s not exactly my business to ask.” You respond, Seokjin letting out a small smile at your remark.

“That’s refreshing to hear. Unfortunately, not everyone is usually as considerate as you are.” Seokjin says, making you sigh as you look at him with sympathy in your eyes.

“I’m sorry about that.” You say with a frown, Seokjin shaking his head at you.

“No, please don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” Seokjin says, smiling at you before looking back down to continue filling up his library card. 

“How about this, then. Would you do what I’m doing right now if you were in a position like mine?” He asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Honestly? I think I probably would, for 2 specific reasons.” You reply and he nods at you to continue.

“Firstly, I would love Ms. Han too much to quit my job.” You say, making him chuckle at you in amusement.

“Okay, fair. How about the other reason?” Seokjin says, making you huff as you try to figure out how to explain it.

“I can’t really explain it but—I just love this library so much. I love the peace and quiet, the mixed scent of coffee and books, and the fact that everyone’s too busy burying their noses into their books to even spare a glance at you. And, if I were in a position like yours, I think that’s exactly what I would need.” You explain, looking at Seokjin to read his expression.

Instead of replying, he just looks at you and nods, giving you a small smile before giving the library card back to you.

“Are you a psychology major?” He asks, making you laugh and shake your head.

“I’m a science major.” You reply, Seokjin nodding with a smile.

“Well, whatever major you have, I honestly think you just took the words right out of my mouth.” Seokjin says with a sad chuckle.

You look at Seokjin and bite your lip before saying something you never thought you’d ever say to him.

“You know, Ms. Han is always looking for an extra hand. I’m sure she’d love to have you help around as well.” You say, Seokjin nodding.

“You’ll get paid too! I mean, not that you’ll...” You say before your voice trails off, Seokjin letting out an amused laugh.

He looks at you and nods, giving you a smile. But before he could say anything, he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around, only to be met with the biggest party boy on campus, Jung Hoseok.

“Hyung, are you still riding along with me? The party’s at 6.” Hoseok says, Seokjin nodding before turning to you.

“I should get going but, thanks for this.” He says, giving you a grateful smile while holding up the book.

“No problem.” You reply, giving both him and Hoseok a polite smile as you put his library card back into the box.

“Oh, and about your offer,” He says, turning around one last time.

You raise your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue. But instead of giving you a definite answer, he just sends you a smile.

“I’ll think about it.” He replies, despite already being quite certain of his answer.

— m. yoongi (the mysterious senior jock)

“Number 2 goes for a three, and he shoots! The score is now 100 to 86, in favor of Hanyang University!” The commentator says, making the crowd go wild.

The boys were currently playing at a basketball game, representing Hanyang for a certain tournament. As they played, you, a member of the Hanyang journalism club, were standing on the sidelines taking photos for the school paper.

After scoring, Yoongi laughs and high-fives Jungkook and Jimin. They both pat him on the shoulder as the coach of the opposing team calls for a time-out.

“Nice one, hyung!” Jungkook exclaims, Yoongi just grinning at him as they ran back to the bench.

You snapped a few photos of them, intrigued at how different the basketball captain was on and off the court. 

In the classes that you had together, Yoongi was almost stoic. He never spoke unless he was asked a question, and he almost never smiled unless his friends made him laugh.

However, whenever he’d play basketball, it was as if he was suddenly a different person. He’d be helping their coach instruct the other players during the game, and would cheer and laugh with his teammates with the biggest smile on this face whenever they’d score a point.

You were a great witness of this, as you knew Yoongi both from your classes together and from his games, with you always needing to be there to take pictures.

After a few moments, you’re snapped out of your thoughts as the game continues. You look to the bench and see Jimin get subbed for Mark who jumps up before looking your way.

“Let’s go! (Y/N), my left side is my good side, alright?“ He jokes, making you laugh as you nod.

The game starts, and they continue to score points.

Suddenly, as you continue to look around the court with the viewfinder, you notice that the ball was nowhere to be found. Before you could find it—however, you suddenly get hit hard with the ball, right on the top of your head.

You stumble from the impact and fall backwards onto the floor, a throbbing pain now all you can feel as you wince.

“(Y/N)!” Some of the players on the bench exclaim, looking at you worriedly as some of them call for a nurse.

“Time-out!” Yoongi shouts, signing to the referee before jogging towards you, Jungkook following behind him.

“(Y/N), are you okay?“ Jungkook asks, looking at you worriedly as he and Yoongi help you sit up.

“I’m fine, j-just a bit dizzy.” You reply, now wincing and biting your lip as you try to hold back your tears from the pain.

Yoongi sees this and sighs, looking around for any sign of the nurse.

“Aish, where’s the medic?” Yoongi exclaims, looking once more around the court before shaking his head and sighing.

“This won’t do. Jungkook, tell coach to bench me for the rest of the game. I’ll bring (Y/N) to the clinic downstairs.” Yoongi says, causing Jungkook’s eyes to widen.

“Hyung, we can’t play without you.” Jungkook says, Yoongi chuckling and shaking his head.

“There’s only a few minutes left, Kook. Besides, we’re pretty far from them anyways. Just tell Coach not to sub me with Yugyeom and you guys should be fine. That kid is clearly still hungover from Jimin’s party.” Yoongi says to Jungkook while gently, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you stand up.

You flush and lean onto Yoongi as you stand up, immediately stumbling once you get on your feet.

“(Y/N), is it okay if we leave your camera with Namjoon?” Yoongi asks, and you nod before letting him remove the camera strap from your neck.

He hands it to Namjoon, who happened to be sitting front row in the audience area. You mumble a thanks to both of them before Yoongi starts walking you out of the gym.

“You don’t have to hold in your tears, you know. I’ve gotten hit by a basketball before too and it’s not exactly the best feeling.” Yoongi says after a few minutes of silence as you both walk to the clinic, making you chuckle.

“I know, I guess I was just kind of embarrassed. Despite always going to your guys’ games, I was never really the center of attention until today.” You say sheepishly, Yoongi shaking his head with a small grin.

“You’re really naïve, you know that?” He says, confusing you.

“Why do you think we always insist that someone from the team has to accompany you wherever you go when we visit other schools? Or why we’re always so willing to lend you our varsity jackets while we play?” Yoongi asks, making you furrow your eyebrows as you think.

Yoongi laughs in amusement and shakes his head again, opening the door to the clinic and helping you walk in. As he sits you down on the bed, he opens a drawer and gets out a hot pack.

“A lot of the players we compete with have a crush on you, (Y/N). At this point, it’s not even surprising anymore for someone to come up to us asking if you’re single or have a boyfriend.” Yoongi explains, making your eyes widen.

“You’re kidding.” You say in disbelief as Yoongi walks towards you with an amused grin.

“You really never suspected anything?” He asks, taking a seat next to the bed.

You frown and shake your head as he places the hot pack onto the top of your head, making you sigh in relief at the feeling.

“Well, maybe it’s better that way. Some of them weren’t really that nice anyways.” Yoongi mumbles, shrugging.

You just give him a sheepish smile and chuckle as your cheeks turn pink at his remark. Then, you hold onto the hot pack on your head so he could let go of it. As he sees you grasp it, he puts his hand down and grabs his phone.

“I mean, it’s not like I would have given them the chance anyways. I’m not exactly looking for a relationship right now.” You reply, Yoongi nodding.

“Well, now you know at least.” Yoongi says with a shrug, the two of you chuckling.

The two of you chat some more when all of a sudden, Yoongi gets a text message. He looks at his phone and a big smile suddenly forms on his face.

“Why? Did they win?” You ask, Yoongi only smiling and nodding at you.

“Jungkook’s so happy. Apparently he took over captain when I left.” Yoongi says, a proud smile on his face as he types a message on his phone and sends it. 

“Well, congrats! You should go celebrate with them!” You exclaim, making him chuckle and look at you.

“They just texted me right now, said they want you back upstairs too. Are you feeling a bit better?” Yoongi asks and you nod in response, slowly getting off the bed.

As soon as you stand up, you stumble back a bit, grabbing Yoongi’s hand instinctively as you quickly sit back onto the bed. You both freeze and look at each other, a light tint of pink on both your faces.

After a moment, you clear your throat and stand up again. As you try to pull your hand away; however, Yoongi doesn’t let go.

“You know what, I think I’ll just keep it here. In case you stumble again.” Yoongi says with a shrug, making you laugh in amusement as you get more flustered.

“Alright, then.” You mumble, Yoongi not being able to take the smile off his face as he leads you out of the clinic and back to the court.

— j. hoseok (the party boy)

“You have no idea how pumped I am right now!” Hoseok exclaims as he, Namjoon, and Seokjin walk into Jimin’s house and get hit by the sudden flashing lights and loud music.

Hoseok immediately shouts, everyone cheering once they see him walk in. Namjoon can only roll his eyes at his friend’s actions as he was already so used to the guy’s energy.

“Trust me, we can tell you’re excited. Especially since you were so adamant to leave campus that you went to the library fifteen minutes before I asked you to.” Seokjin responds, making Hoseok shrug.

“Well sorry, I didn’t exactly know there was a girl involved.” Hoseok says, Namjoon also laughing while Seokjin scoffs.

“Just go and find us drinks, please. I’d rather get drunk than talk about anything remotely serious with you.” Seokjin replies, making Hoseok laugh as he pats his friends’ shoulder.

“That’s the spirit! I’ll go get us some drinks. Go and find the others or something.” Hoseok says, Seokjin and Namjoon nodding before walking away.

“Light beer for me, please. I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon.” Namjoon says, calling after Hoseok.

“Got it, Mr. President!” Hoseok teases with a salute, making Namjoon roll his eyes before they go their separate ways.

Once Seokjin and Namjoon leave, Hoseok begins to walk through the crowd, trying to look for the drinks table. But on the way there, he ends up greets everyone he knew first, this being practically everyone at the party.

If there was one thing Jung Hoseok was known for apart from being a party boy, it was that he was also a huge social butterfly. He knew almost everyone at his college and in the same way, almost everyone knew him.

Meanwhile, you were by the drinks bar, a frown etched onto your face as you looked for your friend. It was your first college party, and possibly your last as well if you didn’t find her anytime soon.

As you continued searching for your friend, you bump into a girl who looks surprisingly as lost as you. The two of you make eye contact for a few moments before giggling at each other awkwardly.

“First party?” You ask her, and she shyly nods in response.

“Taehyung invited me. Although, I’m not exactly sure where he is at the moment.” The girl says with a small frown, you nodding in understanding.

“Looks like we’re on the same boat, then! I’m actually looking for my friend too.” You say and she chuckles.

The two of you start conversing with one another and make light out of the situation you were both in. All of a sudden, she looks behind you and her face suddenly relaxes in relief.

Before you could ask her what was wrong, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey! Sorry, I got a bit lost.” Taehyung exclaims, coming your direction to hug the friend you were speaking to.

The girl and Taehyung begin to catch up before he whisks her away with his arm on her shoulder. She smiles at you apologetically and you wave at her, reassuring her that you were fine.

“You know, I’ve never seen Taehyung so attached to a girl before.” Someone suddenly says, making you turn around in surprise. 

“Oh. Well, I don’t really know the guy so..” You reply, giving Hoseok a sheepish smile as he chuckles at your response.

“I’ve never also never seen you around before. Is this your first party?” Hoseok asks and you nod at him.

“Ah, is it that obvious? My friend actually invited me. But, I kinda lost her.” You say with a chuckle, Hoseok frowning.

“Damn. Well, that actually happens quite a lot. Unfortunately, if your friend is like anyone I know, you probably won’t be seeing her again ‘til tomorrow morning.” He says apologetically, making you sigh.

“Yeah, I kinda expected that.” You mumble, toying with the drink in your hand.

“Well, if it makes it any better, it’s a chance to make new friends.” Hoseok suggests, making you wince.

“I’m not exactly really good at the whole socializing thing.” You reply, Hoseok laughing in response.

“You seem to be doing just fine right now, though?” Hoseok says, making you crack a small smile.

Hoseok smiles at this and opens his mouth to say something else. But then, he gets cut off.

“Hoseok! Come sit with us!” Jimin shouts from afar, making you both look his way.

"Alright, I’ll just get a drink!” Hoseok shouts in response.

You frown at this, thinking that he’d leave you and join his friends. As he turns around to reply to Jimin, you turn on your phone and start looking for a nearby Uber.

“Sorry about him.” He says to you whilst giving you an apologetic smile, making you look back at him and shake your head.

“Don’t worry, it’s alright. I think I might head home soon anyways.” You say, forcing a smile.

Upon hearing this, Hoseok’s face immediately falls and he shakes his head.

“What? You seem like a really fun person though!" Hoseok says, making you laugh and shake your head.

“Like I said earlier, I’m not as good as you when it comes to initiating conversations.” You say, making Hoseok let out a disappointing frown before his face suddenly brightens again.

“Why don’t you come join my table? You can meet some of my friends!” Hoseok suggests, making your eyes widen as you shake your head.

“Oh! Well, I’d hate to interrupt—” You start before he lets out a disapproving noise in response.

“Look, if there’s anything my friends have taught me, it’s to never waste a good party. You’re not interrupting anything, (Y/N), don’t worry.” Hoseok says, making you chuckle as your ears turn pink.

“Besides, I honestly think you’d get along really well with some of my friends! It’d be a shame to see you go.” Hoseok adds, making you purse your lips into a line.

“Okay fine.” You say with a sigh after a few moments, Hoseok rejoicing at your response.

“That’s the spirit! Here, let me just pour myself a drink and then we can go and chat some more at Jimin’s table.” Hoseok says, you nodding in response.

Hoseok grabs a beer and cracks it open before taking a big sip. Then, he turns to you and offers you his arm.

“Shall we?” He asks, a big smile on his face. You giggle and nod, hesitantly linking your arm in his.

“We shall.”

— k. namjoon (the student government president)

You walk onto campus, a lost expression on your face as you attempt to look for the admin’s office. 

You were a new transfer at Hanyang, only recently moving to Seoul after staying at the province for practically your entire life. So far, everything seemed to be going smoothly, except for the fact that Hanyang was almost thrice the size of your former campus.

You sigh and look around, trying to search for someone you could approach and ask for directions from. Finally, you make eye contact with a man wearing a varsity jacket, a duffel bag on his shoulder.

You quickly jog towards him, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Hi, are you from here?” You ask, and he nods at you with a polite smile.

“Yeah, I’m a senior.” He responds, and you sigh in relief.

“Thank god. Uh—Hi I’m (Y/N). I transferred here as a junior and it’s my first day today. I can’t seem to find the admin’s office though?” You reply, and his mouth makes an “o” shape as he nods in understanding.

“Ah, understandable. The campus is pretty big. Oh, and I’m Yoongi, by the way.” He says, both of you letting out a chuckle.

Suddenly, his phone buzzes and he looks at the message with wide eyes before turning to you with apologetic eyes as he lets out a sigh.

“Listen, I’m really sorry but I have to go so I can’t really direct you there myself.” He says, making your smile fade.

“But! I have a friend who’s coming in awhile and he’ll definitely be more than willing to help you get there.” Yoongi says, surprising you.

“Oh, I’d hate to hassle you. It’s okay, I can just ask someone else.” You say, making Yoongi shake his head as he points behind you.

“No worries, he’s actually already coming here now.” Yoongi says with a sheepish smile.

You turn around and see a rather tall man walking towards you guys, a manila envelope in his hand. He waves at you guys as he approaches, giving you a polite smile.

“Joon!” Yoongi says, grinning at his friend as they greet each other.

“This is (Y/N), she’s new and needs help getting to the admin. I need to run and get to practice but would you be able to help her get there?” Yoongi asks, you only giving the man a sheepish smile.

“Only if you don’t mind.” You add, and Yoongi looks at you and laughs.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). Namjoon’s the student gov president. He does this all the time anyways.” Yoongi says, causing your eyes to widen as you look at the guy in front of you.

Namjoon chuckles and brings his hand out to you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Kim Namjoon.” He says, and you smile and shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” You reply.

Yoongi glances at the two of you with a triumphant smile before patting his friend on the back.

“Alright, I have to run. It was nice meeting you, (Y/N)!” He exclaims, smiling at you before rushing towards the nearest elevator.

“Yoongi’s the basketball captain. So, he’s usually at practice.” Namjoon explains, you nodding in response.

“Anyways, let’s start walking?” Namjoon asks, and you smile and nod before following him.

The two of you begin to walk towards a stoned path, Namjoon occasionally greeting some people they knew as they walked past the two of you.

“So, what brings you to Hanyang?” Namjoon asks, trying to break the awkward tension between the two of you.

“The province life was getting a bit suffocating, so i decided to move out for the rest of my college years.” You reply, surprising Namjoon.

“Oh, what province are you from?” Namjoon asks, making you smile as you recall your hometown.

“I’m from Pohang, it’s very near to Daegu.” You reply, making Namjoon nod.

“That’s cool! I have a few friends that are from Daegu too. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.” Namjoon says, making you chuckle.

“I’d appreciate that. I’m not exactly the best at making friends.” You reply, making Namjoon smile.

“Don’t worry, I was like that too. But students here are usually really nice so as long as you spend time with the right circle of people, you should be fine.” Namjoon says, you nodding in response.

The two of you converse more as you walk to the admin, surprised as you both realize you had more in common than you guys initially thought.

“I can’t believe we both like the same book!” You exclaim, Namjoon laughing and nodding.

“Trust me, I’m just as surprised.” He replies, grinning at you.

Then, Namjoon suddenly stops walking. You pause as well, looking ahead of you in surprise as you see the admin office right in front of you.

“We’re here!” Namjoon exclaims, making you smile as you thank him.

“Thank you so much for accompanying me. I had a really great time getting to know you.” You say, and Namjoon gives you a smile in return.

“The feeling’s mutual. Here, uhm—please feel free to just send me a message if you need any other help. I’d be more than willing to do so.” Namjoon says, bringing out a piece of paper from his bag to write his number on.

As he hands it to you, you input it onto your phone and ring the number, smiling when you see Namjoon’s phone ring.

“Will do.” You say with a thankful smile.

As Namjoon turns around to leave, you quickly grab onto his sleeve, causing him to turn back towards you.

“Wait, uh—” You say, stuttering as you chuckle at him.

“The movie adaptation of Dune is coming out next week and I hear it’s really good. Would you wanna come with me sometime to watch it?” You ask, and Namjoon smiles at you amused.

“Are you asking me out?” He teases, and you laugh and shrug, your cheeks turning pink.

“Maybe, but I also just want to return the favor for the help you lent me today.” You say, and Namjoon smiles at you and laughs as well.

“How about next Saturday, 6PM?” Namjoon offers, and you grin.

“Sure!” You exclaim, and you both smile at one another.

— p. jimin (the campus flirt)

“Oh my god.” You mumble, huffing as you watch the bus drive away.

You just missed your only ride to campus, which meant that you would either need to catch a cab or walk to get there. It wasn’t that far of a walk, but it would just take you slightly longer than you anticipated. That, and you weren’t exactly prepared to walk a few kilometers in extremely cold weather.

You sigh and put your hands in your pants’ pockets before you begin walking. You put on some music and continue your walk, making a mental note to bring a hot pack next time in case this happens again.

About 10 minutes past, you suddenly hear a car horn honk next to you, causing you to jump and look to your left. You’re startled when you see a familiar black car, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion when the window rolls down and reveals Park Jimin, your seatmate in chemistry.

“(Y/N)? Why are you walking when it’s this cold?” Jimin shouts from inside his car, making you chuckle as you look at him.

Park Jimin was best known around college as the campus flirt. He’d always be seen waving and smiling to girls all over university and had never really been seen with the same girl for too long of a time. 

Because you two didn’t really belong to the same social circle, you never really got too close despite being seatmates with one another for an entire semester. However, this didn’t stop you both from exchanging words (and maybe some answers) here and there during your classes.

Before you continue speaking to Jimin, you walk a bit closer to his car and crouch down towards his window.

“I missed my bus.” You reply, making Jimin frown.

“Hop in! I’m on my way there anyways.” Jimin says, the door automatically opening.

You move away from the door as it opens and debate going in for a few moments before doing so anyways, thinking that you didn’t have anything to lose. As you get into the front seat, Jimin gives you a small grin before pushing a button on his car, the door automatically closing.

“Thank you so much.” You say with a sigh in relief, Jimin chuckling.

He cranks up the heater and rolls the window back up before beginning to drive again.

“No problem, (Y/N). Are you feeling really cold? I think I have a jacket in the back.” Jimin says, making you smile at him sheepishly.

“Sorry, is it okay if I borrow it?” You ask shyly.

Jimin gives you a comforting smile before reaching backwards and getting his denim jacket, quickly pulling back to place it on your lap before he puts his hand back on the wheel.

“You are a saint.” You say with a sigh, making Jimin laugh and shake his head.

You put on the denim jacket, the sleeves going slightly past your hands. As you reach into the pockets to keep your hands warm, your startled when you feel a piece of paper in one of the pockets. Confused, you bring it out and look at its contents before letting out a chuckle.

call me! XXXX-XXX-XXXX

Jimin hears your chuckle and quickly looks at what you were holding before his eyes turn back to the road. He lets out a sheepish chuckle as his ears turn slightly pink.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. The last time I used that jacket, I was at a dinner with some mutual friends. Someone must’ve slipped it into my pocket before I left.” Jimin says, making you look at him in disbelief.

“Wow, just like that?” You tease, making Jimin groan in embarrassment.

“I promise it’s not what it seems, (Y/N).” Jimin says, causing you to let out a laugh.

“I’m serious! I don’t know, I guess it’s just kind of become a habit? But sometimes, people will just suddenly approach me thinking I was flirting with them when I was really just being friendly.” Jimin explains, letting out a huff.

“Yikes.” You say, sending him a sympathetic smile.

“It’s fine, I guess. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I kind of built this reputation because of my own actions. I guess it just gets a bit overbearing at times.” He says, you nodding in understanding.

After a few moments of silence, Jimin clears his throat before pointing his hand to the paper bag beside your feet.

“Sorry about that, by the way. I’m hosting a party later tonight and I went and bought some Clorox wipes from the store. You know, in preparation for all the cleaning I’m probably going to do tomorrow.” Jimin says, causing you to wince at the thought.

“Well, good luck with that.” You say, both of you letting out a laugh.

All of a sudden, Jimin’s phone rings through the car speaker. He looks at you apologetically before tapping his car’s screen to answer it.

“Speaking of parties.” He mumbles to you, making you stifle your laugh as Hoseok begins to speak.

“Jimin! Yoongi just called me and he said the food hasn’t been picked up yet?” Hoseok asks, making Jimin’s eyes widen.

“What? Taehyung was supposed to bring those to my place an hour ago.” Jimin says, Hoseok sighing from the other line.

“Everything’s still in the mall, Jimin. Taehyung hasn’t picked up anything.” Hoseok replies.

Jimin groans in frustration and lets out an audible sigh, ruffling his hair before looking at the car screen.

“Alright, just give me a sec to call Tae. Thanks, hyung.” Jimin says, Hoseok thanking him back before they hang up.

“Sorry about that. Would you mind if I gave Tae a call real quick?” Jimin asks you.

“Of course! I don’t mind at all, no worries.” You reply, Jimin sending you a thankful smile before tapping a few buttons on the car.

After a moment, the speaker begins to ring. Jimin taps his hand on the wheel, waiting for his friend to pick up.

“Hello?” Taehyung finally says, Jimin sighing in relief.

“Tae, where are you? Are you still going to the party?” Jimin asks, Taehyung inhaling sharply from the other line.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I lost track of time. I was walking Yeontan and I got a bit sidetracked.” Taehyung says, making Jimin groan.

You listen into the conversation, beginning to feel kind of bad for Jimin and the amount of stress his friends seemed to be putting him in.

“So you still haven’t picked up any of the things for the party?” Jimin asks in disbelief.

“I’m really sorry, man.” Taehyung says, Jimin sighing again.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of it. Just make sure to be there, please!” Jimin exclaims.

“Yes, of course, Jimin.” Taehyung says before hanging up.

Jimin purses his lips in frustration, looking at the time before sending an apologetic glance your way.

“Sorry, this party has just been stressing me out. The only reason I agreed to have it at my place was so that I wouldn’t need to take care of any of the preparation stuff.” Jimin says, causing you to frown.

“Would it be okay if I just dropped you off at the entrance? I’ll need to leave right away to go grocery shopping and buy some food.” Jimin says, almost shuddering at the idea of shopping.

You chuckle at this and ponder for a few seconds before suddenly getting an idea.

“Hey, how about I accompany you instead? I’m not really doing anything for the rest of the day anyways and I do need to get some things from the grocery too.” You say, surprising Jimin.

“Really, you’d be okay with joining me?” Jimin asks.

“Of course! I love grocery shopping. And besides, I think you’ll be needing the company anyways. You look like you’re about to go insane.” You reply, Jimin letting out a laugh.

“Thank you so much.” Jimin says to you before U-turning at the next slot to drive to the nearest grocery.

...

You and Jimin were currently roaming around the grocery, your cart filled with chips, beer, and solo cups. As you look for the cheapest brand of dip, you suddenly hear Jimin chuckle behind you.

“Why?” You ask, looking back at Jimin with a smile.

He looks at you amused and shrugs.

“I don’t know, I guess this is just kind of new. I’ve gone on all sorts of dates and yet I’ve never gone grocery shopping with a girl before.” Jimin says, causing you to chuckle at him.

“Is Jimin finally turning domestic?” You tease, making Jimin roll his eyes and shake his head as he grabs another case of beer from the shelf.

“Well, I have to say, it’s surprisingly not that bad.” Jimin says with another shrug, surprising you.

“Maybe all you need is to find the perfect person to do it with.” You say with a smile, Jimin smiling back at you.

Maybe he already has.

— k. taehyung (the ridiculously good-looking)

“Duck! Come over here!” You exclaim towards your puppy with a big smile on your face, causing him to run towards you.

“Good boy!” You praise, rubbing Duck’s tummy as he lays in the grass.

Since today was your day-off, you decided to spend it with your dog, Duck at the campus park. Duck was a Corgi puppy that you decided to adopt soon after enrolling in college. You found him as you were passing by a dog shelter and you just immediately fell in love.

You named him duck because one of your baby cousins whom you’d meet often would always call the Corgi a duck, and the habit eventually spilled over to you as well. 

You smiled at the fond memory, the smile widening when you see Duck perk up at the sight of dog treats.

“Ah, you want one? Give me a turn, first!” You exclaim, making a circle motion with your hand.

Duck sees this and quickly twirls around, causing you to giggle and pet him on the head. You give him the treat and he enjoys it thoroughly, happily barking as he ate it. After quickly devouring his first treat, he quickly barks as if though he was asking you for another one.

“Maybe in awhile, Duck. We’re eating lunch soon.” You say, giving Duck belly rubs and giggling.

All of a sudden, you hear a shout from a distance.

“Shit—Yeontan, come back!” Someone shouts, making you look behind you.

Your eyes widen when you see a dog suddenly rush toward you, jumping onto your lap. You laugh in amusement and carefully pat the dog’s head, watching as the dog quickly warms up to you. Then, the dog abruptly sits up, sniffing your bag.

“Ah, you’re looking for a treat, aren’t you?” You say with a chuckle, bringing the treats out of your bag.

The dog quickly barks, Duck now also on high-alert as they both eye the treat bag. You sigh and stand up, unable to say no to either one of them. So you grab one treat and break it in half, giving each one to each puppy.

Once they get their treats, they both calm down and munch on them, making you smile as you begin patting both their heads. Then, you hear a panting noise behind you.

“Yeontan...I’m...Sorry...” The guy says while trying to catch his breath.

Upon hearing this, the dog in front of you perks up and runs behind you, causing you to also turn around and see who its owner was. Your eyes quickly widen when you come face to face with Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung was pretty well-known around campus for being extremely good-looking and friendly. His name would constantly be uttered by girls all over the place like a celebrity whenever he’d post a new photo on his social media. And he’d always represent the school when it came to certain events which made him well-known even to those outside the university.

You have never personally encountered him, at least not until today.

“H-Hi.” You stutter out, blinking at the man in front of you.

Once Taehyung catches his breath, he sends you a quick smile before scratching the back of his head.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about my dog.” Taehyung says, causing you shake your head in response.

“Oh no, please don’t apologize! Your dog didn’t hassle me at all.” You say politely, making Taehyung smile in relief.

“That’s nice to hear. He can get a little rowdy sometimes.” Taehyung replies, making you smile as you crouch down towards his dog and pet it.

“His name’s Yeontan, by the way.” Taehyung says, making you chuckle.

“You have a very cute name, Yeontan.” You say while rubbing Yeontan’s tummy, Taehyung staring at you guys with a smile on your face.

“Oh—and it’s Taehyung. Sorry.” Taehyung says, making you look up at him confusedly.

“I meant my name’s Taehyung.” He stammers, causing you to laugh as you stand up.

“It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung. My name’s (Y/N).” You say with a grin, bringing out your hand.

Taehyung smiles and shakes your hand, looking behind you when his eyes suddenly wide.

“Wait—our dogs!” Taehyung exclaims, making you turn around as well.

Your eyes soon widen as well when you see that Yeontan and Duck both seem to have disappeared. You both look around and spot them running at the far edge of the park. You both quickly start running after Yeontan and Duck who seemed to be rushing towards the fountain, something that was never a good sign. 

“Got them!” Taehyung exclaims, grabbing onto both the dogs right on time before they would have jumped into the water.

You catch up to him and start panting, trying to catch your breath from all the running you just did. Taehyung chuckles at you while also trying to steady his breathing, handing you Duck.

“I think..we both need..to buy leashes...” Taehyung says while catching his breath, making you laugh.

“I agree.” You reply with a smile, sighing loudly before getting some water from your bag to drink. 

Taehyung does the same thing and almost finishes all the contents of his water bottle before he puts it back in his backpack, looking at you with a grin.

“Well, I guess that was one way to break the ice.” Taehyung says, both of you laughing at his remark.

“I’m quite surprised, honestly. Duck has never run that far from me before.” You reply, making Taehyung chuckle and look at you with a guilty smile.

“Must be Yeontan then. He can be a bit of a bad influence at times.” Taehyung says as he pats his dog’s head.

You smile at this and nod, looking at the dog with amusement in your eyes.

“I can see that.” You joke, Taehyung grinning at you.

“Although, I have to say. He only warms up really easily to my friends or to really pretty girls.” Taehyung says, making you laugh.

“Well, I guess I’m the exception then?” You reply, making Taehyung’s eyebrows raise as he smiles at you.

“I wasn’t saying that.” Taehyung says, and you chuckle in disbelief, your cheeks turning pink.

Was Kim Taehyung flirting with you?

“Okay wait, before we continue, did you just call your dog Duck?” Taehyung asks, and it’s your turn to chuckle and grin at him.

“I think that’s a story for another day.” You say, Taehyung laughing and nodding.

Out of the blue, Taehyung gets a call from his cell phone, smiling at you apologetically. You shake your head and motion for him to take it. He sends you a grateful smile before turning around and answering his call.

“Hello?” Taehyung says, Jimin sighing from the other line.

“Tae, where are you? Are you still going to the party?” Jimin asks, making Taehyung inhale sharply and look at his watch.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I lost track of time. I was walking Yeontan and I got a bit sidetracked.” Taehyung says, making Jimin groan.

“So you still haven’t picked up any of the things for the party?” Jimin asks in disbelief, making Taehyung frown.

“I’m really sorry, man.” Taehyung says, Jimin sighing again.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of it. Just make sure to be there, please!” Jimin says, Taehyung assuring him before hanging up.

He turns back to you, disappointment evident in his eyes as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Sorry, that was my friend. I should probably get going soon.” Taehyung says, making you frown a bit as well in disappointment.

Taehyung sees this and thinks for a few seconds before he suddenly brightens up again.

“Hey, are you doing anything for the rest of today?” Taehyung asks, confusing you as you slowly shake your head.

“No, why do you ask?” You reply, and Taehyung quickly smiles at this.

“Do you wanna go with me to a party? My friend Jimin is hosting.” Taehyung asks, and your expression quickly drops into an unsure one.

“I don’t know Taehyung, I’m not the biggest fan of parties.” You say, and Taehyung suddenly pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes.

“Come on, (Y/N), please. We barely got to talk and I really want to get to know you more.” Taehyung says, making you huff.

"Besides, we can go and buy our dogs leashes on the way there! It’ll be like hitting two birds with one stone!” Taehyung adds.

You sigh and look at him for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding.

“Fine.” You mumble, and Taehyung perks up and laughs playfully dancing with Yeontan.

“(Y/N)’s going to the party!” Taehyung says in a sing-song voice, making you laugh and roll your eyes.

— j. jeongguk (the young bachelor)

Beep. Beep. Beep. Your alarm rings, making you groan as you slowly wake up to close it. You wince at the bright sun and immediately close the blinds, rubbing your eyes awake.

Beep. Beep. Beep. It continues ringing, causing you to sigh as you grab the clock to close it. As you look at the time; however, your eyes immediately widen. 

11:40 AM. It said. Which meant that you only had 20 minutes to run across campus and submit your painting before your teacher would mark it late.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly standing up and tying your hair up with a clip. Then you quickly grab your phone and your canvas (which conveniently, happened to be more than half your height) before running out of your dorm room.

You quickly sprint across campus, mumbling excuse me to the people in front of you. About halfway there, you check your phone to see what time it is and your eyes widen.

11:43 AM. It said. You quickly sigh and run faster, almost bumping into some people on the way. Finally, you make it to the building and swiftly run to the elevator. 

Once again, you check your phone and you almost cry at what you see on the screen.

11:49 AM. It said, making you huff as you quickly wait for the elevator to come up to the ground floor from the basement. There was no way you could run up the stairs since your professor’s office just had to be located on the highest floor in the building.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you finally hear the familiar ding. You quickly look up and get ready to enter, your face falling when you see that there’s only room for exactly 2 more people.

But as you take a step to go inside, you see in your peripheral behind you 2 people. You turn around and your eyes widen at the sight of a professor in a wheelchair with his TA standing behind him. He looks at you apologetically and you give him a polite smile in response as you bow.

“Ah, I apologize, sir. Please feel free to go first. I don’t think my canvas will fit inside anyways.” You say, the professor giving you a grateful smile as his TA wheels him in.

“Thank you so much. Students like you are truly such a blessing.” He says and you force out a smile and chuckle, thanking him for his compliment.

As soon as the door closes, your smile slowly fades and you huff in defeat before checking your phone one last time.

11:51. It says, and tears begin to pool at the bottom of your eyes. This is it, you think. This is how I fail my art class. 

You huff and look at the stairs, thinking that if you were already here, you might as well try your best to make it. As you take your first step; however, you almost bump into someone.

“(Y/N)?” Jungkook asks, looking at you confused as he sees the painting your holding.

Now, what were the odds that one of the top basketball players of Hanyang would happen to be right in front of you just as you needed to run up five flights of stairs as fast as you could? Little to none, you realized.

So you bite your lip and stare at him for a few moments, blinking before doing something you never thought you’d do.

“Jeon, I have a favor to ask.”

...

You wait patiently at the bottom floor, tapping your foot on the floor in anxiety as you wait for Jungkook to come back. You had a small pack of banana milk in one hand and his bag in the other. On your head was his baseball cap, something he hurriedly placed on you before sprinting up the stairs with your painting.

You huff and look at your phone, still tapping your foot on the stairs when you hear the elevator ding. You quickly rush in front of it and sigh in relief when you see Jungkook leaning on the handrail, grinning and holding his thumb up.

“You have no idea how big of a save that was just now.” You exclaim, Jungkook chuckling as he comes out of the elevator.

He grabs his bag from you and puts it on his shoulder before staring at the pack of banana milk in your hand.

“I don’t remember you having a whole pack of banana milk when I went up.” Jungkook says in amusement, making you grin as you hand it to him.

“It’s a thank you gift, for both running up that many stairs for me and also for saving my degree.” You reply, making Jungkook laugh and shake his head.

“As flattered as I am, you really didn’t have to, (Y/N). Coach has us run up these stairs at least 3 times a week for training. So, it wasn’t really that hard for me to do.” Jungkook says, making you shake your head as you hand it to him.

“I’ll still feel bad though. Can’t you just take it?” You say with a small frown, Jungkook sighing and getting the pack.

“Fine, but you have to take at least one. I’ll feel bad if I get the whole pack.” Jungkook negotiates and you nod in agreement.

He opens up the plastic and grabs one from the bag before poking a straw into it and handing it to you. He does the same thing with the other one before placing it into his bag.

“Thanks.” You mumble, taking a sip.

“Walk me to my next class? I’m pretty sure Namjoon wanted to give you something anyways. He’ll be in there.” Jungkook offers, making you nod in response.

Namjoon had been asking you to design the posters for the next student government event for awhile. He’s been meaning to send you the info and some pegs for the event but the 2 of you couldn’t find the time to meet. So, might as well take this opportunity, you thought to yourself.

As you and Jungkook walk together, you start engaging in conversation with one another, occasionally laughing at Jungkook’s witty jokes. You’re both so engrossed in your conversation that you don’t notice people were actually staring at the 2 of you, surprised that Jungkook was alone with a girl.

He had quite a reputation around your college, with most people knowing him as the young bachelor of his friend group. This was because unlike Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok, Jungkook wasn’t one to socialize despite his many talents. Many students knew about him because of his good looks and charm; but no one actually knew if he had gone on a date or had a girlfriend before.

Hence, most people were taken aback when they saw the 2 of you together, smiling and laughing as if you guys were really close. Most of them had never seen Jungkook alone with a girl, let alone looking as happy as he did.

“I still can’t believe art students don’t actually hire random students as nude models. That’s just not acceptable!” Jungkook exclaims, making you laugh out loud.

“It wouldn’t be that ethical to just pick a random, Jungkook. Besides, I don’t think it’s exactly allowed around here either.” (Y/N) responds, making Jungkook shake his head in disbelief and laugh.

Before they knew it, they were in front of Jungkook’s next class. Namjoon, who happened to be waiting outside, jogs towards you guys with a manila envelope.

“Took you guys long enough!” He says, making Jungkook rolls his eyes as he chuckles at his friend’s remark.

“Anyways, here you go, (Y/N). Feel free to just email me the drafts when you finish them.” Namjoon says, handing the envelope to you.

“Email? Hyung, you’re so old-fashioned.” Jungkook teases, making Namjoon scoff and hit his friend’s shoulder.

“At least I’m not late for my class. You should count yourself lucky that I told Mr. Jung to excuse you because you helped me get supplies for the event.” Namjoon says, the last part being said in a tone that was almost mocking, making Jungkook grin.

“You’re the best, hyung.” He says, making you chuckle and shake your head in amusement.

“Well, I guess I should go now.” You say, and Jungkook looks your way before giving you a grateful smile.

“Thanks for accompanying me. I had a fun time.” Jungkook says, making you smile.

“I think I should be the one thanking you.” You say with a laugh, making Jungkook smile.

You wave at him and turn around to leave, but he suddenly calls for you again.

“Wait—(Y/N)!” Jungkook exclaims, making you turn towards him expectantly.

“Yes?” You ask, making him smile at you as he grabs his water bottle and slightly wets his sleeve. He walks towards you and holds onto your left cheek before gently using his sleeve to wipe your right cheek.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a laugh, making him chuckle as he shows you his sleeve that now has a green stain.

“Wha—I had paint on my cheek the entire time and you didn’t tell me?” You say in disbelief, making Jungkook laugh.

He shrugs with a grin and puts his water bottle back in his backpack before walking backwards.

“You looked cute, okay?” Jungkook teases, making you flush as you turn around to leave, Jungkook laughing at your reaction.

“Oh, and one more thing!” Jungkook shouts, making you turn around again.

“What?” You say with a laugh, making Jungkook grin.

“Keep the hat. It looks better on you anyways.” He says, winking at you before jogging to his class.

You stare at him in disbelief, biting your lip and chuckling as your cheeks turn red at his words.

[mandoalorian]

just tell me our love was worth it

din djarin x gn!reader

“I wanted to spend forever with you,” Din admits, his eyes locked on yours. There’s a cut just above his brow and his cheekbones are bruised a dark purple. He’s beat up and bloody and he doesn’t look so great.

“We will,” you assure him. “But we have to go and get you to a medic.” you tell him in a tone of urgency.

Din shakes his head ‘no’.

“It’s time for me to go.” he says quietly but with the utmost sincerity.

You narrow your eyes in perplexity and your lips part with confusion. “What are you talking about?” you ask him.

Din shuffles slightly and lifts up his tunic revealing a large, blaster wound.

You’d never seen an injury so bad.

“Din, we have to go! Don’t give up now. Don’t.”

“Just tell me that our love was worth it,” Din pleads with a small smile — like it was his final wish. Like it was all he cared about. The validation from you… that whatever both of you had was just as important to you as it was to him.

“It was worth it.” you give him the genuine reassurance that he desires.

“Then I can die in peace.” he croaks.

“You deserve to live,” you choke up, biting back tears. You don’t want to cry in front of him. Not now. You don’t want to be weak when he’s slumped up before you, bleeding out.

No, that wouldn’t be fair.

Din lets out a groan and moves his hand slightly, some more of his dark red blood beginning to ooze out from his abdomen. You desperately reach out and press your hands against his wound, silently praying to whatever Gods may be out there to just give him a few more moments with you.

After all, they owed you a lifetime.

“You’ll take care of Grogu, won’t you?” Din stifles, his brown eyes glazed over with a mixture of pain and terror. He was never usually one to show fear, but the uncertainty of death was something that filled his soul with trepidation and dread.

What would be next for him? He wasn’t so much worried about himself, but more so about you and his son. Would you be able to take care of each other and make a life of your own? Would you be safe without his care and attention?

“I promise.” the words leave your lips in a gasp of desperation. Din nurses forward and presses his forehead against yours — a traditional Mandalorian keldable kiss, despite the fact he’d ditched the beskar helmet long ago.

But then, he presses his mouth against yours, a final breath escaping his lips.

You feel it, the way his body involuntary draws back and his eyes are closed. He’s not moving anymore. His breathing isn’t erratic and his bleeding seems to stop.

In that moment, it was like the universe stood still.

“I’ll love you forever, Din Djarin.” you whisper.

He was finally at peace.

————————

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[amorevolousfaith]

Chapter 2: Deals Of Duels and Trade

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader x Slight Elllaria Sand

Rating: 18+ (MINORS BEGONE)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Explicit language, cannon violence, Decapitation, mentions of rape, mentions of murder, murder, allusions to sex, smut, Dilf energy, Milf energy,

Summery: It doesn’t take a scholar or royal adviser to figure out the invitation the Royal Wedding in Westeros has some underlining conditions. Not that it matters to you or your son, the opportunity to go to a country so far away that impressions wouldn’t do much to your reputations is just too good to pass up. And who better to live that thrill to the fullest than with the Red Viper of Dorne.

I smile politely at the Queen-To-Be in front of me. Mori standing behind me in his naturally stiff posture, but I see the way she lets her eyes drag along him. Even with her husband-to-be sitting right there beside her. I can sense the king’s hand and grandfather, as well as his mother, spot it too. “Forgive me your grace, if you do not take to your gifts as well I hope. These gifts are not typically what I would give to newlyweds of my country, and given our differences in tradition I became baffled with ideas.” I smile, “I’m sure what you have to gift will meet our standards as Lannisters.” The boy king scoffs. I hum in acknowledgment before removing the top of my box.

“For the bride we gift you a silk kimono robe, something for you to wear over your night clothes or if you prefer over your body. Silk is made for both beauty and comfort and this silk in particular was grown in our imperial silk gardens.” I chime, pulling the pink and gold silk robe out of the box. The woman gasps and takes the robe gently, aweing at how soft it is. “Thank Mori for its craftsmanship, he hired out the best silk makers in the country for this.” I smile kindly masking the needle point stab I pushed into the royals’ skin. “And for your king.” Mori then stepped in, pulling out a jade bottle from the box. “Some our finest Rye, corked and bottled in hand carved Jade for your honor.” He presents mutely placing the bottle in front of the king.

“What the hell is Rye?” The child asks, the room stiffens at his lack of mannerisms, but just as I trained him, Mori remained passive. “A beverage much like your wine, but more potent and less sweetness.” Mori describes. “And have you tried our wine?” The To-Be-Queen questions with a smile, “My mother has, I have not.” Mori responds curtly. “Well you simply must try some!” She gushes, it takes all I have not grin coyly. “Perhaps,” I cut in, “You may show Mori your other Westeros luxuries, while your members of council and I talk business. We wouldn’t want to bore you, when such youth should be savored and not wasted,” I coo out.

“You are exactly right! I like this woman!” the king laughs as he stands to his feet, his bride right behind him as she ushers Mori along behind her groom. When the door to the chamber shuts the king’s hand and Queen Mother replace them in their seats. I sense a cruel irony here, like the two people who just sat down are the real king and queen of Westeros. “I would have preferred to talk to your son, but this will have to do sense he is occupying King Joffrey,” the older man begrudged. I smile despite his words, his daughter side eyeing me for some sort of reaction. “I hope it is because he is to be reigning longer than I should be and not because I’m a woman, either way what is discussed now will be explained to him promptly.” I chime out leaning back into my seat. The older man quirks his eyebrow at my lacks behavior as does his daughter.

“Forgive me if I do not seem intimidated by the royal family. I’m not very worried about your country’s threat when you're a whole sea away, especially when you have issues with both the north and a dragon queen threatening your kingdom. That is why you invited me here, correct?” I sigh out. Both look taken back by my direct words, “I may talk softly to the many around me, but when it comes to my standing as Empress there is no room for such words.” I state simply. “Surely even an Empress must learn when to bite her tongue.” The Queen Mother suggests, “My people have a saying, and as a woman I’m sure you can agree, that a woman’s first blood does not come from between her legs, but from biting her tongue. Mine came from neither, mine came from the throat of a man who thought he could lay a hand on me and live.” I counter poetically. “That alone should tell you what kind of ruler I am, now I do not wish to waste my time and yours so let’s get down to it. I hate spending time in these meetings as much as I hate wearing this silly crown.” I sigh out rolling my neck to ease the weight of the very decorative headpiece.

The two shuffle in their seats before regaining their more composed posture, but I can still tell they’re put on edge. “Is it true you have dragons?” He questions, “No, my country doesn’t have dragons. The only dragons we do have are the people of the Dragkoi clan. The Dragkoi clan are warriors who built their wealth training shinobis and samurais for the lords of our nation, many of our clan hold ranks in Imperial army and shinobi guard.” I explain softly. “And yet two sit on the throne.” The older man points out, “Not by choice.” I all but hiss. “When I killed my husband for raping my daughter, I was ready to leave the palace with my son. However, we are people of honor and duty, Morizuka is the rightful heir but only a boy at the time. I wouldn’t leave my son no matter how much I hate wearing this crown.” I command.

“You do not wish to be Empress?” Queen Mother quarries, “Not any longer than I have to be, your grace.” I smile weakly. “The power you possess will protect your son, do you not wish for power?” She continues to question, “I can protect my son just the same with a good sword and a bottle of poison. Power is merely a responsibility, a responsibility I do not wish to have, but that doesn’t go to say that I’ll hand it over to the first person who holds out their hand.” I muse out leaning over to the table. A servant rushes over but I wave them off, pouring my own wine in a cup.

“When I expressed my lack of fear of you, it was not in the nature of I do not find you a threat. Every country is a threat, not to me by any means, but to my son and the country he loves so much. I do not wish to have problems with Westeros, my son will reign longer than I will and I do not wish to cause him problems that will last longer than my lifetime.” I murmur softly before taking a sip of the wine. “You invited me on the account of dragons, and since we are unable to fulfill the toll of this invitation I offer a different payment. After all I hear you Lannisters never do anything without reason and we’d prefer not to be chastised in this city because of wrong information.” I hum.

I pull out the vile hidden in my sleeve, “Poison you can only find in Jaenna, only made by the shinobi of clan Dragkoi. A toxin that will shut down the human body slowly, stopping the movement of their body functions before shutting down their organs. A slow panic filled death.” I murmur rolling the green liquid between my fingers. “It would be better if you gave us the recipe.” The older man grumbles, “You wouldn’t find a use for it, after all the ingredients are only found in Jaenna. This one vile does you more good than a piece of paper, isn’t useless information what got us here in the first place?” I smile pushing the vile to the table and sliding it over to them.

Before anyone else could speak the door bursts open and in comes the boy king and company. The three of us stand and bow as he strides into the room, his wife-to-be trailing behind him but next to Mori. “Has your old people talk concluded?” The boy huffs, “I believe so you grace.” I smile sweetly. “Good, I granted Emperor Mori permission to entertain himself by fighting with the king’s guard. It will be good for them to see that their King only associates with fellow strong rulers.” The boy boasts, I close my eyes and do my best to withhold a sigh. Knowing Mori manipulated this outcome, I can feel his smirk from where I stand even with my eyes closed.  

“How generous of you, your grace. Emperor Mori is well known in our kingdom for his fighting skill, I would like apologize in advance if one of your guards are somehow injured.” I smile tightly, the boy scoffs, “They probably need it, bunch of worthless lot, they need to know what it feels like to really fight for their life if they want to defend mine.” He waves off. “Once again I thank you, your grace. If that is all The Emperor and I will be taking our leave.” I dismiss quickly. The boy continues to wave me off as I swiftly cross the room to Mori, Mori bares his arm out for me to take but before I could reach him it is taken by the young Queen-To-Be. “If you have any questions or requests do not be afraid to ask.” she smiles sweetly, Mori nods and pulls his arm out of her grip before offering it to me.

Mori escorts me out of the room and it’s only after the doors close do I grip his arm tightly. “You know better.” I hiss, “If you wish to entertain yourself with a fight, seek out the Prince of Dorne. At least then I know should you throw a man on his ass it won’t trigger full blown war.” I scold. “The Prince is probably too busy with his concubine and geisha.” He pouts, I let out a long sigh and tug him along. I drag him through the castle, occasionally requesting directions before finally finding the prince’s chambers.

“Prince Oberyn!” I call before pushing through the door, the man’s head turns from here he had it buried in the grove of a naked woman’s throat. Mori goes stiff and quickly turns his back and tilts his head to the sealing. “My, he does need a bit of fine tuning.” The Prince chuckles, “Has he never seen a naked woman?” Ellaria muses. “He has, he never takes it well.” I sigh out, “Prince Oberyn, I request your services!” I huff. “Business or pleasure?” He grins into the flesh of his geisha’s shoulder, “My son is in dire need of a dual. He went so far as to manipulate the king into giving him permission to fight his royal guard. However, I know all too well the first time he throws a man on his ass we’ll get caught up in a war.” I seethe. The Prince rawers in laughter, “It is a fight he craves?” The man dies down to a chuckle. “What do you say my love? Should I entertain the boy?” He muses, “You always have loved a fight my prince.” Ellaria purrs.

“Tell me boy, do you know who I am?” The prince calls, “You are the Red Viper.” Mori answers without looking back. “I care of nothing else. Prince, peasant, king, I’ll fight them all the same.” Mori declares, “Even a naked woman?” He teases, I see Mori shoulders rise and fall in huff. Prince Oberyn laughs good naturedly before striding forward and clasping a hand over the boy’s shoulder, “Come, I will show you why Dorne has remained apart from this hell hole of a country for so many years.” He boasts pulling Mori to the door. “Ellaria entertain our guests!” He calls over his shoulder before he’s out the door.

Once the door closes I let out a long sigh, “You, my sweet, need to relax.” Ellaria purrs. “If only possible.” I muse, “Perhaps we could help.” She grins coyly pulling the geisha close to her. I hum with a smirk, “Same rules apply to you, my dear. I keep those I fuck. However, I could use some help stripping out of these layers and this gods ridden crown.” I huff pulling at the layers and layers of the royal Hanfu. “It would be our pleasure.” The geisha purrs, wordlessly the geisha pulls the pins and beads from my hair as Ellaria strips off the layers of silk and cotton.

I let out a soft sigh when the last layer is pulled off, the two woman stare at me wantonly, but I only grab the decorative first layer and wrap the soft silk around my body in a Kimono like fashion. The top half sinking to my shoulders, exposing the swells of my breasts and the top of my back. “What is this strange mark on your back?” The Geisha questions running her nimble fingers over the ink in my skin. “A tattoo, it is where they take ink and push it into your skin to create eternal artwork. The people of our clan are awarded the dragon tattoos when they come of age.” I explain softly, “May we see?” Ellaria questions. I hum and let the silk fall lower to reveal the top half of my body, exposing the blue dragon inked into my skin. I sigh blissfully when their fingers drag across the artwork.

“It is beautiful, I have never seen anything like it.” The geisha awes, I let out a soft laugh before pushing the silk back up. “You should see Mori’s then, takes up his entire arm, shoulder, and half of his chest. A tattoo fitting for a Warrior Emperor, it took him a week to get done and a week to heal.” I recall softly. “He hated every minute of it, since he was unable to partake in his more athletic activities.” I continue walking over to the wine cart. “This is Dornish, yes?” I muse while looking in the pitcher, “It is. Better than what they have here.” Ellaria chimes with a smirk.

I hum and fill a goblet before lounging about in the closest chair. “How did your son get about convincing that beastly boy to let him fight his royal guard?” Ellaria questions dragging her geisha along to the bed, “I have not the slightest idea.” I laugh before taking a sip of my wine and humming pleasantly at the sweet taste. “I made Mori leave the room while I talked to the Queen Mother and king’s hand. I did notice the Queen-To-Be had taken to him in a wanting way, maybe she helped him convince the king.” I thought out, “The girl has no real interest in the King, only to be Queen.” geisha butts in. A laugh falls from my lips, “How peculiar.” I muse wistfully. “Bold words for a geisha of the King,” I challenge, “Geisha?” The woman quirks, “What do you call sex workers here?” I mumble with knitted eyebrows. “Whores.” she answers simply, I hum at such a harsh word. “And mistresses or lovers?” I quip, “Also whores.” She answers. “In my country sex workers are called geishas, lovers and mistresses are called concubines who hold official rank in court.” I inform, “In Dorne our lovers are called Paramors, we too hold official rank.” Ellaria calls. “I like Dorne’s titles better, they’re softer on the tongue,” I smile softly.

“Whatever we are called, I am no whore of the king,” She huffs, “I would sooner throw myself out of the red keep than share a bed with that boy.” She continues. A loud laugh springs from my throat and echoes the chambers, “Brave one you are.” I coo sweetly. I take another long drink of wine and when I pull away the door swings open. In comes Prince Oberyn and Mori laughing and shoving one another playfully. My eyes go wide, it's been a very long time since I’ve seen that expression on his face. Both are shirtless and fifthly, covered in dirt and sweat. I grunt when Mori tosses himself to lay across my lap, but I can’t bring myself to scold him for sitting on my silk when he stares up at me with a boyish smile.

“I see someone had fun.” I muse, watching as two servants come in carrying Prince Oberyn and Mori’s missing garments. “The best fight of my life mother.” He gushes, My snap over to Prince Oberyn who grins smugly. “You boy is strong, his tenacity is not unwarranted,” Oberyn compliments, “But you still lost, little dragon.” He teases. I hold my breath at the way The Prince used his nickname. “Only because you kept pestering me.” The boy in my lap grumbles, Oberyn laughs as he pours himself some wine. I run my fingers through Mori’s sweaty hair. “Did you have fun while we were gone?” Mori questions, “I learn quite a bit.” I hum. Mori eyes me suspiciously. “Calm yourself mother, we can’t let your curiosity get the best of you and meddle in foreign affairs.” He warns, “And we can’t let your tenacity start wars little dragon.” I coo lovingly.

“You entertained them well I assume.” Oberyn questions his Paramor, “Not in the way we would have lover.” Ellaria muses. “However, she does have the most beautiful body.” She grins, “Her tattoo is one of wonders my prince.” The geisha adds. I see a small pout form on the Prince's lips, “You mean you saw the mark of her dragon without me?” He grumbles. “Only when we helped strip out of her stuffy formal robes.” Ellaria soothes, “Which I am very thankful for.” I call with a smile. “Oberyn had to cut me out of mine.” Mori grumbles, “Did he now?” I grin. Mori flushes with a glare, “Not that way.” He huffs. “It was worth a shot.” I muse, “Perhaps it will happen before we leave.” I sigh out. Mori lets out a loud childish groan and stuffs his face deeper into my lap  to cover his red face. Laughter echoes the room at the poor boy’s expense but I can feel his smile through the silk.

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[mismaeve]

Long Live the Queen → Prologue

↳ Long Live the Queen, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, a prologue Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, war and death Word Count: ca. 600+ Tagging: @tharan-duil @sehnsuchts-trunken @i-did-not-mean-to @rye-nye A/N: This is just the prologue ( for a lack of a better word) to Long Live the Queen, which will be out shortly. I am excited to share this even though I wasn't going to publish anything until I had finished the entire story. But my recent absence convinced me otherwise. I hope you enjoy the prologue and part one of the story. Sources: Elven Wedding Ceremony

"By root and seed, by bud and stem. By leaf and flower and fruit, by life and love, In the name of the Seldarine, Gods of the Elven people, I, Rainiel, take thee, Thranduil, to my hand, heart, and my spirit, at the setting of the sun, and the rising of the stars. Nor shall death part us, for in the fullness of time, we shall be born again, at the same time, and in the same place as each other, and we shall meet and know and remember and love again."

The couple watched as the Elven priest unbound their hands before picking up the sapling, and giving it to them, to plant it at their home where it would grow and flourish much like their marriage. Such happiness this day promised, filled with hope and excitement. Rainiel glanced at her husband, her king, and dreamed of the long life they would live together, and she found herself grateful for their eternal youth for it meant that she’d never have to part with her beloved.

And we shall meet and know and remember and love again.

The night was dead and silent, not a whisper was being carried by the gentle and fleeting breeze. The skies were clear of any clouds that would hinder the light of the full moon spreading its rays over the dark-green fields bordering the deep and vast forest that was Mirkwood. Under the forever watchful eyes of the stars, the leaders of two separate armies were making their way towards the forefront of their forces. One was a female of slender build with hair as white as the first snows of winter, its loosely wavy length neatly tied and braided away from her delicate features; the other was a male of strong and muscular build, his light golden hair falling over his shoulders in a magnificent waterfall that stopped slightly above his waistline.

Thranduil, son of Oropher, the king of the Woodland realm mounted his elk, an extraordinary beast with antlers of great splendor, before facing his army of brave Elves, eager and honored to defend their homelands. Theriadis, the right hand of Sauron and the commander of all his armies, mounted a fierce black stallion who would take a bite out of anyone who dared step too close. Sitting atop their impressive beasts, the king and the commander cast their eyes over the soldiers standing in formation before them, moving from face to face in search of any weakness that would compromise their odds on the battlefield.

“The enemy is approaching, eager to soak these lands with our blood,” Thranduil spoke to his fellow elves, his voice almost as calm as the night that surrounded them.

“You will not rest until every inch of this ground is drenched in their blood,” Theriadis raised her voice, her black eyes darting from orc to orc, relishing the sight of the hatred she saw on their faces.

“But we will endure, as we always have. It is our duty to protect our borders, our home from the vile creatures that would see it burn,” the Elvenking continued, raising his voice slightly with each word that rolled over his lips.

“Ready your torches for tonight we burn their sacred forest to the ground, and the elvish scum along with it,” the commander’s voice rose above the enrapturing shrieks and howls of the orcs.

“And so, I have but one thing to say to you,” Thranduil’s voice grew louder still, taking on a more threatening and menacing tone, his hazel-blue eyes sparkling with contempt for the beasts that were looming just beyond their borders.

“Your orders tonight are quite simple,” the commander continued after the ranks of orcs had quieted down, awaiting their commands for the battle that would soon begin.

“Kill them all,” Theriadis and Thranduil said in unison. One of them was smirking while the other’s expression was stone cold.