#this got long which is because my writing sentiments are out of practice

[solsticehymns]

one thousand kisses later... oneshot (hogmarch 2025!)

james potter x f!reader / fluff / established relationship

part of the hogmarch challenge (week 2) arranged by the lovely @thatdammchickennugget!!! <333

summary: ���If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.” James Potter has been keeping track of every kiss you’ve ever given him—because of course he has. Now, with just six left before he hits a thousand, he’s determined to reach that milestone. The only problem? You’re having way too much fun making him really work for it.

a/n: i got the idea for this one thinking of what he could be admitting after the dialogue and this came to mind. counting kisses because this man is so sentimental he would so. and reader just being so used to it. and then the kisses section rly got away from me lolol i loved LOVED writing this omfg thank you again to the challenge creator!!! mwah mwah all my love, sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 2953

James’ thumb traces slow, deliberate circles against your knuckles, the movement as instinctive as the steady cadence of his breath beside you. The warmth of his palm, the firm yet unspoken assurance in his touch, anchors you in the present—effortless, like muscle memory. Evenings like these have become a ritual, a quiet communion where words feel secondary to the intimacy of shared silence.

Above, the Quidditch pitch sprawls vast and unoccupied, its expanse dwarfed beneath a sky unfurling in a never-ending tapestry of stars. The crisp night air carries the scent of freshly cut grass, lingering traces of broomstick polish, and the ghost of rain that had slicked the field earlier. The stadium lights have long since faded, surrendering the landscape to the moon’s silvery luminance, which pools in soft highlights along the dewy terrain.

It’s quiet here, just the two of you stretched out on the damp grass, hands loosely intertwined in the space between.

You sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye, taking in the disheveled mess of his hair, still windswept from practice, the faint pink tinge clinging to his cheeks from the lingering chill in the air. He looks entirely at ease, legs bent, arms sprawled, a lazy grin flickering at the edges of his lips as he watches the sky.

You love him like this. When he isn’t performing, when he isn’t the center of attention, when he doesn’t have to make anyone laugh. Just James—warm, familiar, effortlessly yours.

The two of you stay like this for a while, breathing in sync, the steady rise and fall of his chest a quiet rhythm beside you. Every few minutes, he gives your hand a soft squeeze, an unconscious gesture, a silent acknowledgment. You squeeze back each time, matching him, a wordless conversation neither of you ever need to speak aloud.

Then, breaking the comfortable stillness, James exhales an exaggerated sigh. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.”

You smirk, finally turning your head fully toward him. “James Potter, you have never been serious a day in your life.”

He shifts onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow so he can look at you properly. In the dim glow of moonlight, his hazel eyes gleam, filled with something playful—but beneath it, something softer, something careful. “No, really.”

You sigh, dragging out the moment, feigning reluctance. “Fine. Go on.”

James inhales like he’s bracing himself, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly before he finally says, completely serious, "I've been keeping track of every single time you've kissed me."

You blink. Then again, slower this time. “I’m sorry—what?”

He flops onto his back, eyes tracing the constellations overhead, as if the sheer vastness of the sky will make this any less absurd. “I have a tally.”

A laugh escapes you before you can stop it. “You are actually insane, Potter.”

He turns his head toward you, wearing that signature lopsided grin, his expression utterly remorseless. “994.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, squinting at him. “994 what?”

“Kisses.” His grin widens as he lifts your joined hands, pressing an overly dramatic kiss to your knuckles. “Which means, darling, I am only six away from one thousand. A truly historic milestone.”

You groan, flopping back onto the grass with a laugh. “Unbelievable.”

“I prefer devoted,” he corrects, completely unbothered, his fingers remaining wrapped around yours. “And if you cared about me at all, you’d help me reach my goal before the end of tonight.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you think so?”

“I know so,” he replies, full of confidence, dimples appearing as he smiles.

You hum, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. No, I think I’d rather let you suffer a little. Really let the anticipation build.”

He gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just betrayed him. “Cruel.”

“I prefer entertaining,” you tease, flashing him a mischievous grin. “You’ll get your kisses. Savor the wait, Potter.”

His eyes narrow slightly, analyzing you. “So you’re actually making me wait?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

He tilts his head like he’s already scheming. “Unless I can change your mind.”

You scoff. “Good luck with that.”

His grin turns downright devious. “Oh, I do love a challenge.”

Kiss #995

James is entirely serious about his tally, which becomes glaringly apparent when he slides into his usual seat at the Gryffindor table the next morning, eyes locked onto you with painstaking expectation. He props an elbow on the table, rests his chin in his hand, and simply stares as you butter your toast.

You glance up, then do a slow double take at the unwavering intensity. “Oh, you were serious about that?”

“Deadly,” he replies without hesitation. “994 and counting.”

Sirius, mid-bite of toast, pauses to squint at him. “Counting what, exactly?”

“His kiss tally,” you announce flatly, taking a measured sip of pumpkin juice. “Apparently, we’re now operating on a quota system.”

As if synchronized, Sirius and Remus exchange a look before collapsing into laughter.

“Oh, mate,” Sirius wheezes, shaking his head as he shoves his plate of eggs toward James. “You actually told her?”

James shrugs. “She had to know eventually.”

Remus smirks. “And you thought she’d be the one embarrassed?”

You roll your eyes, sliding your plate toward James. “Alright, tally-keeper. If you want your precious milestone, make yourself useful—get me another slice of toast.”

James brightens immediately. “Consider it done.”

With the reflexes of a seasoned Seeker, he snatches a fresh slice from Remus’ plate and drops it onto yours before leaning in expectantly, lips already pursed.

You shake your head, fighting back a fond smile, and indulge him with a quick kiss. “Satisfied?”

“995,” he sighs, blissfully, as he leans back against the bench. “We’re so close.”

Sirius groans dramatically, tipping his head back. “Oh, come on. That was way too easy! If he’s this invested, you’ve got to make him work for it.”

Remus nods sagely. “You hold all the power here. He should be earning every single one.”

You hum, tapping your chin in mock consideration. “You know, that’s actually a fair point.”

James sits up straight, immediately on high alert. “Now, hold on—”

Sirius claps a hand on your shoulder, grinning. “We expect great things from you.”

James groans, dropping his forehead onto the table. “Oh, have mercy.”

Remus pats his back sympathetically. “You’ve made your bed, mate. Now you’ve got to lie in it.”

Kiss #996 (and #997)

After breakfast—and after the Marauders’ relentless teasing—you and James make your way to Transfiguration, his grumbling uninterrupted for the entire walk. He’s still dramatically lamenting how unfairly the odds have been stacked against him, as if he’s the victim in all this.

“You do realize,” he murmurs as you both slip into your usual seats, “that I could just steal a kiss at any time, right?”

You smirk, casually setting out your parchment. “And yet,” you say, deliberately slow, “here you are. Kissless.”

James lets out a deep, suffering sigh, dropping his forehead onto the desk like he’s been mortally wounded.

Professor McGonagall strides in before he can argue further, commanding immediate silence. The class shifts into its usual rhythm—quills scratching against parchment, the occasional hum of animated transfigurations occurring at the front of the room. You fall into effortless focus, copying notes with the kind of diligence that James very clearly lacks.

A nudge against your elbow. Not subtle.

You glance over. James, unsurprisingly, is not paying attention. Instead, he’s scribbling something on your parchment, his handwriting as unruly as his hair:

Trade you one (1) kiss for my Transfiguration notes.

You roll your eyes but can’t help peeking at his parchment. His notes are… shockingly thorough. Surprisingly detailed. Suspiciously unlike him.

James notices the hesitation, taps the page with his quill, eyes alight with mischief. “Fair trade,” he mouths.

You pretend to deliberate, then—slowly, deliberately—write beneath his offer:

Two (2) kisses if you write mine for me.

James’ grin spreads instantly. Without hesitation, he grabs your parchment, setting to work with uncharacteristic dedication—quill moving far more efficiently than it ever does for his own assignments. His tongue peeks out slightly in concentration, brows furrowed, utterly determined. You bite back a smile.

When he finally slides your parchment back—smug, expectant, practically vibrating with anticipation—you lean in, just enough to keep him waiting.

Then, in the quietest, quickest motion, you brush a kiss against his cheek before returning to your notes like nothing happened.

James blinks, stunned.

“That’s one,” you whisper, barely hiding a smirk.

James, gaping at you: “You—That was a scam.”

Professor McGonagall clears her throat. James snaps his mouth shut immediately, though his expression remains scandalized as you calmly return to note-taking like you hadn’t just completely outplayed him.

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s already plotting revenge.

And sure enough, the moment you step out of the classroom, he steals both the kisses you promised—996 and 997—before you can even protest.

Kiss #998

The next class of the day stretches on, your quill gliding across the parchment as you meticulously record every detail of the lecture. The words flow effortlessly, your focus unbroken, absorbed entirely in the rhythm of note-taking. You don’t notice much beyond the steady murmur of the professor’s voice and the quiet scratch of ink on paper.

James, however, is only half-listening. His quill spins idly between his fingers, forgotten, as his gaze drifts between you and the clock. The world hums in the background, distant and unimportant, because you have become the only thing worth noticing. The furrow of your brow when concentration takes hold, the way your lip catches between your teeth as if to keep a thought from escaping—he sees it all.

And, most importantly, he hears the quiet grumble of your stomach.

Without hesitation, James reaches into his bag, retrieving a small treacle tart he had swiped from breakfast. It’s neatly wrapped in a napkin, still intact despite the journey through his books and ink bottles. He had pocketed it earlier without a second thought, knowing with absolute certainty that you’d need it by now.

Without a word, he slides it across the desk toward you.

You blink, startled out of your focus, finally looking up. “Did you just—”

He doesn’t even glance at you. “You’ll get cranky if you don’t eat.”

For a moment, you just stare at him. It’s such a small thing, so automatic, so unspoken. He hadn’t tried to make a joke out of it, hadn’t even looked for acknowledgment—just noticed, and acted.

Your heart does a double flip, and before you can think twice, you reach out, and with a hand on each of his cheeks, squish them together until his lips pucker up. James barely has time to make a sound of protest before you press a quick, warm kiss to his ridiculously smooshed lips, then release him just as fast.

James freezes.

“Wait—” He blinks, visibly processing. “That counted?”

You pop a bite of the treacle tart into your mouth, smirking. “That counted.”

James grins like he’s just won a bloody Quidditch final.

Then, leisurely, like he’s savoring the moment, he leans back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. "Finally. A hard-earned kiss."

You roll your eyes, turning back to your notes. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Potter.”

And James? James spends the rest of the lesson plotting increasingly elaborate acts of kindness, just in case it earns him another one.

Kiss #999 

By the time classes end, the courtyard is bathed in golden afternoon light, the air crisp with the lingering bite of autumn. It should be the perfect setting for productivity—a quiet place to focus, to get ahead on assignments. That, at least, was your plan.

James Potter, however, has other ideas.

At first, his distractions are subtle. He leans in under the pretense of “helping” with your notes, pretending to read over your shoulder, though he clearly isn’t absorbing a word. His breath tickles your ear, his presence a warm, familiar weight beside you.

Then, his tactics escalate—stealing your quill, doodling nonsense in the margins of your parchment, dramatically balancing a book on his head as though this is some great test of skill rather than his latest attempt at entertainment.

You warn him once.

You warn him twice.

By the third time, you snap your book shut with a sigh of exaggerated patience.

“James,” you say, rubbing your temples, “if you can sit still for ten minutes, I will consider granting you number 999.”

James immediately straightens, eyes gleaming. “Done.”

What follows is the most excruciating ten minutes of his life.

You watch—completely entertained—as he physically battles his own nature. His leg bounces uncontrollably, his fingers twitch on the table, his lips part and press together over and over as he stops himself from talking at the last second. He looks like he’s about to explode.

At eight minutes and twenty seconds, he officially breaks.

“I can’t—just kiss me!” he exclaims, dramatically flinging his quill across the grass. He throws his hands up, eyes wide with sheer, unbearable suffering, looking every bit like a man on the brink of collapse.

You burst out laughing, so hard your shoulders shake. James looks desperate, betrayed—like you’ve asked him to endure some great personal tragedy.

“Merlin,” you wheeze, “that was genuinely pathetic.”

James grabs your hands, shaking them slightly, his tone genuinely bordering on begging: “Please.”

Still laughing, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, indulging him just enough to make up for his suffering. The dramatic groan of relief that escapes him is so ridiculous that you feel it vibrate against your mouth.

“Very cruel,” he murmurs when you pull away, eyes shining with amusement.

“You love it,” you whisper back.

James sighs, grinning. “I do.”

From a nearby bench, Remus casually flips a page in his book. Without looking up, he deadpans, “Wow. You should do that anytime you want him to shut up.”

Kiss #1000

The rest of the day had passed without James mentioning it—not once. No expectant looks, no teasing remarks, no casual attempts to steal it early. If anything, you were the one avoiding the topic now. The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a quiet weight you weren’t quite sure how to shake.

The common room is nearly empty by the time the moment finally comes. The fire in the hearth has burned low, its embers casting a soft, flickering glow across the worn-out couches and the red-and-gold tapestries lining the walls. Outside, the castle is quiet, the usual evening hum of students fading into the slow hush of late-night stillness.

James is beside you, his back against the armrest of the couch, legs stretched out, looking for all the world like he has no worries at all. His hair is messier than usual, falling over his forehead in unruly waves, and there’s something so familiar, so achingly easy about the way he sits there, watching you like you’re the most interesting thing in the room.

Not once has he said, One more to go, love. Just get it over with, darling, make my year.

And for some reason, that makes your heart beat just a little too fast.

You shift slightly beside him, curling your legs up onto the couch, closer than before. The fire crackles softly, casting long shadows across the floor, and you suddenly realize your hands are fidgeting in your lap.

James notices. Of course he does.

“You alright?” he asks, voice quieter than usual.

You nod, but your pulse jumps when his fingers brush over yours—just briefly, just enough to make you look up. Hazel eyes meet yours, warm and waiting, patient in a way that makes your chest ache.

And suddenly, it almost feels like the nervousness of a first kiss, only it’s been a thousand. You wet your lips, heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

"You ready for number one thousand?"

James exhales, a soft breath that almost sounds like a laugh. But it’s not cocky, not teasing. It’s something softer, something real.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve been ready for a while.”

The words settle between you, quiet and golden, and suddenly the air feels thick—charged in a way that makes your stomach flutter. This is different. Not just another kiss to add to the tally. Not just a number.

You lean in, slow, uncertain—but James stays perfectly still. Waiting. Letting you choose. Letting you want it.

And oh, you do.

So you close the distance, pressing your lips to his, and it’s not hurried, not teasing, not playful. It’s gentle, like something delicate settling into place. James exhales against you, like he’s been holding his breath for longer than either of you realized. His hand lifts, fingertips ghosting over your cheek, as if he’s afraid to touch too much and break the moment.

When you finally part, you stay close, foreheads nearly touching, his breath warm against your lips.

James lets out a soft, breathless laugh. “Worth the wait.”

You smile, fingers curling slightly in the fabric of his sweater. “Yeah.”

Neither of you move away.

Outside, the castle sleeps, the fire flickers, and James just looks at you like he already knows this is one of those moments he’s going to remember forever.

Then, after a beat, his lips twitch into a grin. "Can't wait for a million."

You roll your eyes, huffing out a laugh as you nudge his shoulder. "Merlin, Potter, you really think you're getting that many?"

James grins, leaning in just a little, voice warm with certainty. "I plan on earning every single one."

☀️🌻 masterlist

[buckybarnes82]

Can you write something about surprising bucky with a gift? Fluffy. 🍬

Sentimental gifts

A/N: Thank you for the request! Mostly fluffy but some injuries are mentioned. Arnicare gel helps with bruising and that’s also mentioned!

It had only been six months, but you were madly, desperately, and wholeheartedly in love with him. Six months and you felt closer to him than anyone else ever has. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, that time frame really didn’t seem like very long but when you’re dating someone whose entire life got stolen from them, time moves quicker than most would expect.

It didn’t take long at all for Bucky to slowly take ownership of an empty dresser drawer at your place, filling it with socks, T-shirts, his knife, and basically all the random things he kept in his many pant pockets. He also made sure to clear closet space at his place, though you rarely stayed there with him and the rest of the team. Bucky liked coming to your place for a bit of peace, and you knew that without question.

Bucky didn’t have to question much when it came to you, you told him how you were looking for something serious after twenty minutes in and he knew what he wanted in a partner, being up front about it during your first date. “I know what I want, and I want to explore that with you.” The words and memory of that night were etched into your memory. He wore a navy blue button-up that he was practically sweating bullets through, and you wore a blue dress that matched his eyes, it was fate or at least you liked to think of it that way.

Bucky was undoubtedly busy, he didn’t necessarily plan on working for Valentina. Now that he was roped into this, his time with you was limited, and it started to wear on him. He was growing increasingly nervous that the distance would make you question things, and that was something he couldn’t handle. The slump in his shoulders, bag under his eyes, and general grumpier-than-usual demeanor told you everything you needed to know, and you wanted to reassure him.

So here you were sitting on the hardwood in your apartment, in your pajamas with various scraps of colorful paper, stickers, glue dots and tons of photos of the two of you spread across the floor. Bucky never fully understood why you constantly took pictures of him, or wanted some together but he didn’t question it, mentally noting you were just a sentimental person.

You had bought a small rectangular scrapbook in his favorite color from your local craft store. Bucky often had to work late, so you’d work on it while he was away and you’d hide it under your bed from him otherwise.

You had been working your way through the months of your relationship, finally landing on month five and now six, you spread out the silly photos of the two of you, admiring how handsome Bucky looked even with a beard full of red pasta sauce. He insisted on taking you to a local Italian place for dinner last month that Alexei had recommended and it was actually one of your favorite dates.

You stood up to look for a marker when your phone vibrated, a silly picture of Bucky wearing a silky robe appeared on your screen.

“Hi, handsome!” You giggled excitedly which gave him a breath of relief as he heard your voice.

“Hi love” he loudly yawned into the phone, making you giggle again.

“Someone’s sleepy!” You tease affectionately, grabbing the marker and going back to your craft on the floor., notating your date with cute side comments and sticker hearts.

You heard the faint sound of motion in the background.

“Where are you? Are you in the van?”

“I miss you” Bucky hummed, you didn’t have to see him to know he was sitting in the back of the van with his eyes tightly shut, and a migraine brewing. You knew he hadn’t heard you ask him a question.

“I miss you too, Are you coming home tonight?”

Home was what you called your apartment, because to you both that’s what it was.

“Yeah, I need to sleep beside my girl” he mumbled and you heard an audible “awww” from Yelena and Ava in the background that you knew he hated every second of.

“How far away are you?” You pulled the phone back from your ear to check the time. You knew you’d have to hurry if you wanted to gift this to him tonight.

“I probably have another hour or so” he groaned, a layer of exhaustion prominent.

“I make it 45!” Alexei hollered from the front seat and normally Bucky would object but he’d do anything to be beside you right now.

You continued to glue pictures down, decorating and annotating as Bucky spoke.

“Tell Alexei I need you home in one piece! Speaking of that, any injuries?” You asked this often enough to be routine.

“Scratches, they’re handled. Bruise on my right arm, it’s not that bad. It’s fine.” He was lying and you knew that by his tone of voice but you let it slide for now.

“Hungry?”

“Starving” he sighed, rubbing his temples as he realized he hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Burger?”

“Please, if it’s not too much trouble.” He sighed again, making your chest ache. He always felt like a burden to everyone around him, no matter how much you reassured he wasn’t.

“You’re my boyfriend, it’s never an inconvenience to me to feed you” you lightly chuckled knowing how he felt about that word.

“Yuck! Boyfriend sounds so juvenile” he snorted, the first real laugh you’d heard since the phone call started.

“Guess you’ll have to change that” you teased as you finished the scrapbook, flipping through the pages a final time before placing it on the coffee table, ready for Bucky when he got home.

“Oh, I fully intend to” he rasped back, his tone laced with seriousness.

He had bought the ring months ago, only waiting for your mom’s blessing which he planned on asking her for next month when she came to visit.

“I have a present for you when you get here” you giggled as you stood up to get ingredients out for dinner.

The sound of your giggle made him feel more alive, sitting up straight in the van to wake himself up.

“A present huh? More arnicare gel?” He teased knowing you had pretty much bought a Sam’s Club level amount of arnica gel for him.

“I knew the bruise was worse than you said” you clicked your tongue, taking out seasonings from the cabinet above you.

“My phone's going to die, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes. I love you.”

“I love you too bunny.” You started to cut the tomato for his burger, smiling over at the scrapbook he’d have waiting for him.

You had just gotten done plating his food, when the front door opened, and Bucky practically collapsed inside. You rushed over to him helping him walk over and sit down on the recliner in the living room.

“What do you need? Talk to me.” Your wide worried eyes traced his features, he was dirty, cut up, and exhausted but he was still gorgeous as ever to you.

“My girl” he hummed, reaching his arms out before he pulled you on top of him. He covered you in kisses making you giggle as you squirmed on top of him.

“Baby you need to drink some water, take your pain pill, eat and-“

He grabbed your chin, kissing you to momentarily quiet you, “You worry way too much” he mumbled between kisses.

“I love you, it’s my job to worry,” you said it so matter-of-factly his heart swelled hearing the words.

He looked over at the coffee table, seeing the scrapbook immediately. “Oh? What is this?” He pointed and you leaned over the chair to hand it to him.

“Your present” you sat up straighter, still on his lap as he looked at the cover, it had a picture of the two of you from your first date.

“You made this for me?” His eyes immediately stung, he’d blame it on being exhausted but you’d see through that instantly.

“Mhm!” You opened it for him, eager for him to see the work you put into it.

“Remember this? It was when we first started dating and we went to that baseball game and-“

“We got rained out! I was so worried you were going to get sick and never want to go on another date with me” he laughed, pointing at the selfie of you with fully drenched wet hair.

“And when I did inevitably get sick you came and brought me soup” You pointed to the next page that had a picture of the two of you in bed and Bucky smiled, he had assumed you’d forgotten all about that. He kissed your cheek before continuing to flip through pages.

“We both clearly worry too much” you admitted and he nodded nonchalantly.

“This is so sweet of you to do” he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to cover it with a cough.

“Bunny? Are you tearing up? Did I break Bucky Barnes?” You teased knowing that would make him chuckle out loud.

“I’m just crying because I’m starving. My stomach is touching my back.” he joked tickling your side lightly earning his favorite sound from you, another giggle.

“You know I love you and I’m never going anywhere right?” You held his eye contact for a moment before he nodded, leaning in for another kiss.

You made him feel safe, secure and loved and like the ring hidden in his closet should be on your finger right now.

[lucyandthepen]

last young renegade | jjh

summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)

pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k

a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!

Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.

♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?

At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.  

You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.  

It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off. 

While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.

Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.  

Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.  

You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.  

♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡

When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.  

You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.  

He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.  

“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”  

“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”  

“I didn’t want to.”

“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”  

“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”

“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”

“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”

“And? What did you say?”

“I said it was none of his damn business.”  

Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.

Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.  

He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.  

The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.  

Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.  

You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately. 

“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”  

“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”

“You know you can’t! Give it back.”

“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”  

Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.  

“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.  

“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”  

“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”

“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”  

“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”

“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”  

“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”

“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”  

“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.  

All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.  

There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.  

His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.  

“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”  

Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.

“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”  

There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’

“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”  

“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”  

“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”  

Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.  

“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”

“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”  

“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”

“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.   

It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.  

The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.

Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.  

He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.  

You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.

You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.

His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.  

He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.

“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”  

“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”  

“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”

“Won’t you be too busy?”  

“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”  

You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.  

Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.  

Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.  

The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.  

You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.

But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.

Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.  

Then again, this isn’t all up to you.  

You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.  

His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.  

He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.

“How did it go?”

“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”  

“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”  

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.  

You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.  

“You love me, right?”  

It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.  

“You know I do.”

“A lot, right?”

“A lot,” you confirm softly.  

“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”  

“Jaehyun—”

“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”  

Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.  

“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”  

You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.

“I believe you.”  

“And you trust me, right?”

“With my life.”  

“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”

He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.

“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”  

“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”  

He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.

“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”  

“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”

“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”  

“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.  

“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”  

Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.  

“You know I love you, right?”  

You smile slightly. “No but?”  

“No but,” he agrees.  

The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.  

“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”  

When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.  

Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.  

Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.  

And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.  

[ash5monster01]

Could you pretty please do Marty Mcfly x reader? One where they're friends and they're hanging out in the Doc's garage and marty is showing her everything and idk where to go from there.

I'm so glad you write for him. I feel like he gets no attention!

Thank you!

All of You

Pairing: Marty McFly x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, unreciprocated feelings, self doubt, cheesy lovesick teenagers, soft intimacy. 

Summary: When your lifelong friend and short time crush invites you to spend an evening in Doc’s garage, you don’t expect the outcome it actually brings. 

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

When you had agreed to join Marty during practice tonight, that is what you had expected him to do. Especially since he was dead set on landing the school dance gig. Yet the second you walk through the doors of Doc's garage that entire plan is thrown to the wind. Marty takes one look at your curious eyes and next you know he's showing you everything the large garage witheld. Every trinket, experiment, odd and end. It started with the clocks, him explaining Doc’s incessant need to collect so many. Then it spiraled from there, a prideful look on his face as he explained all the mystical things the garage held. 

“You know, I’d think you’d be more into science then you actually are based on how much you know about this stuff” you tell him while he’s showing you a particularly weird trinket, not even beginning to understand what it does or at least what Doc says it does. 

“I don’t know, I find it interesting, but science has never really come to me. Not like it does for Doc” Marty shrugs, hands reaching to set down one of Doc’s inventions. You knew he really cared for his relationship with the older man, most likely because he wasn’t all that close with his father. 

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself the benefit of the doubt. You’re smart Marty, I’ve known that my whole life” you tell him, hand reaching to squeeze his shoulder and you miss the way he tenses at your touch. The longing in his eyes as he lets the compliment settle into his bloodstream. 

“Don’t you hear Mr. Strickland? You’re a slacker Marty” the boy mocks the teachers voice, flopping onto the couch and closing his eyes. You sigh and move closer to him, taking a seat in the spot beside him before setting a comforting hand on his thigh. 

“You’re not a slacker Marty, in fact you’re one of the most dedicated guys I know. You need to stop being so hard on yourself” you say a touch annoyed. It was exhausting how often you had to remind the boy how amazing he was. His attitude was a direct response from years of watching his Dad think he wasn’t good enough. To you he was one of the most caring and genuine people you knew. 

“I know, but why should I if you’ve got all the confidence I need” he says, a teasing tone and smirk on his face. You roll your eyes and give him a slight shove, trying not to smile when he laughs loudly at the action. 

“It’s exhausting carrying around mine and you’re own confidence. Besides, you need yours to land this band gig. Which brings me to my next point which is you haven’t even attempted to practice yet” you tell him, a pointed but unserious look on your face. If you were being honest he didn’t really need the practice. He was already amazing at what he did. Sometimes he got carried away but that was rock n’ roll, it’s how to was supposed to be. 

“I don’t want to practice. I just want to sit here with you” and he instantly blushes at how whiny and needy he sounds, especially towards his own best friend. You don’t even notice though, trying to mask your own heart stuttering in your chest at the sentiment. 

“If that’s all you want, who am I to complain” you say before readjusting and leaning into him. You try not to focus on how warm he is or the way your palms begin to sweat from nervousness. This was Marty after all, you’re eldest friend and the one person in the world you should be the most comfortable with. Yet the thing about crushes is you couldn’t control the things they will do to you. No matter who it’s on. 

Marty doesn’t expect the closeness but allows it anyway, lifting his arm so you can tuck up underneath his side, lowering it around you the second you’re comfortable. He prays you can’t feel his heart racing in his chest, the way you settle against him so naturally, it made him wish you were his. The one person in this world to love and to keep. Not be held back from kissing you or telling you how he feels every time he fears he will lose you as a friend. 

“You ever wonder what it would be like to be more than friends?” You blurt out, a mix of confidence and desperation causing you to ask the blunt question. Maybe it was easier because he couldn’t see your face. Or maybe it was the annoyance over how you could be so close to him like this and not gain anything from it. You were tired of tip toeing around the fact that he was the one person in this world you truly loved and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

“What?” Marty asks, a bit shocked and thrown off guard and you can’t help the way you stiffen beside him. 

“It’s just, we spend so much time together and I’ve never been uncomfortable. It just seems weird that two people who know each other so intimately haven’t been, well, intimate” you blush a deep red, even the tips of your ears fading into a soft pink, thankful he still couldn’t see your face head on. Yet you thought to soon because Martys hand is grasping your chin, turning to look him in the eye where you can see his own face is a soft shade of pink as well. 

“I’m not really sure what to say” and suddenly you’re embarrassed, that confidence long gone as you begin to shake your head, and fight of the burning feeling at the back of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid, I shouldn’t of said anything” you start to move away from him, feeling like an idiot and ashamed you would even bring it up. Yet his hand on your arm stops you, your eyes glancing at his grip and then up to meet his own, a desperation and something else entirely bubbling underneath the surface. 

“It’s not stupid, in fact I think about it all the time myself if I’m being honest” he admits sheepishly, eye glancing anywhere but your own and you swear your heart freezes in your chest. Trying to understand what this could really truly mean and if it would mean what you hope it does. 

“Really? And it doesn’t weird you out?” You ask and the boy snorts, trying not to laugh too loudly because you had amused him with such a silly question. 

“Why would it weird me out? Just because I’m your friend doesn’t mean I don’t notice how gorgeous you are. In fact it’s kinda hard not to notice especially since your my favorite person in this world” he says like it’s the most obvious thing and now you’re sure your entire body is fire truck red because the boy you loved just called you gorgeous. 

“Yeah well if you weren’t so damn cute all the time neither of us would be in this predicament” you agree and finally Marty smiles because he knows you. He knows this is your way of joking about your feelings to soften the blow if it doesn’t go your way. That if right now he said he didn’t want you it could be a cushion to protect you from the punch. 

“Hey, I like you more than friends. I never had to wonder because it’s how I always look at you” and you gulp nervously, not expecting the forthcoming honesty, considering this whole conversation had been you both tip toeing around each other. 

“Really?” You ask, voice slightly shaky and mostly hopeful and Marty smiles, pulling you close. When he doesn’t provide an answer you feel the panic begin to swell but then suddenly his nose is nudging against your own, hot breath fanning across you lips, and just like that you’re puddy in the boys hands. His answer comes when his lips press softly against your own, not to desperate but just enough to get the point ocross. It takes a moment to even process what was happening, how you were locking lips with your best friend, but when reality sets in you can’t help how desperately you kiss him back. Needing to feel closer to him in this moment than you ever have. After was feels like hours he finally pulls away, pecking one soft kiss into your lips before his eyes focus into your own.

“Believe me now?” He says, oozing the confidence you had tried to pull out of him when you had first gotten here and you can’t help the way you giggle as you hug him close.

“Yeah, I believe you” 

[licorice-tea]

And There You Are, An Ocean Away

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader (and a little Nami x Vivi if you squint)

Content: friends to lovers, fluff, anxious/hopeful crush feelings, confessions, long distance relationships, reader is a Straw Hat Pirate, and Law is a little awkward <3

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: this is one of the first fics i’ve finished and i’m not the best at grammar rules so there are probably a few mistakes! also i might have made Law a little ooc lol, but besides that im just trying to write more to improve! thanks for reading :)

Edited 1/17/23

be-beep. be-bee-

“Hello?” Law cuts off the ringing of his transponder snail. He can’t help but smile to himself upon hearing the voice on the other end of the line.

“Law? Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, y/n.” He leans back in his desk chair, twisting the cord of the transponder snail around finger “E” while holding the phone in the other hand.

“Sooo,” you drawl, “have you guys started opening presents yet?”

Law can practically hear you smiling, which makes him exhale in amusement before responding. “Yeah, the crew exchanged gifts and opened them earlier this morning. How about you?”

“Mhm, we were up as soon as the sun rose- Chopper and Luffy woke up the whole crew.” You pause, and he can imagine you biting back a laugh while shaking your head as you often do. “Anyway… Did you get everything you wanted?” You sound expectant, almost knowing.

In his usual deadpan tone, he answers simply. “Bepo got me a new coffee blend.”

“That’s nice of him… he’s always so considerate.”Based on your tone it’s not quite the answer you were looking for, but you provide commentary anyway.

“Ohh yeah,” He continues on the other end of the line, feigning the recollection of something important, “and there was this massive box on deck…”

“Oh good!” You exclaim as Law chuckles. “You scared me, I thought you hadn’t gotten it. Did everyone like their gifts?”

You’re referring, of course, to the comically large box that the Straw Hats had shipped to the Heart Pirates. It was packed to the brim with gifts for every crew member. After all, what was the point of having tons of berries from “stolen” treasure if not to use it on your friends? Or at least, that’s the reasoning you used to convince Nami to rearrange some funds for gifts to the Heart Pirates and other allies of the Straw Hats. Though, maybe it was just because you had mentioned sending a gift to Vivi back in Alabasta as well…

“They all really liked it, a lot. Was it your idea?”

“No,” you explain with a playful cadence, “it was a group effort.”

“Sure thing, but the bows and wrapping paper has you written all over it. And the handwritten card…”

“I have the best handwriting on our ship! Besides, we all signed it so, its from all of us.”

The only part that 100% was not from all of the Straw Hat Crew, was a box with Law’s name on it at the bottom of the much larger box. Inside the present addressed to the “Captain of the <3 Pirates” was a neat little coin display with places for 25 coins, as well as a card tucked in beside the display.

“Well, it was nice of all of you then.” He concedes with a snark in his voice. “And, uh… I like what you got for me, y/n.” Law’s voice comes out a little quieter, and maybe even a little deeper towards the end. He sounds hopeful, not 100% sure if it was you that had chosen his gift, yet knowing that only you could have selected something so sentimental and- ugh, perfect. His tone makes your stomach do flips.

“Yeah? Good, I’m glad.” Your voice, now a bit softer, replies. “I was worried you might have already had-“

“I-I didn’t. I’ve just been storing my collection in boxes...” He trails off, now tracing the edges of the coin display you’d gotten him. It was nothing exceedingly special or expensive, but it meant a lot knowing you had thought of him- just him- and went out of your way to send him a gift. The thought that you cared about him as much as he did you had his heart beating faster already.

You only knew Law was a coin collector because he chose to tell you. Thats how it usually was with him- he only shared the parts of himself he wanted to share. (Though you did also have a knack for “catching his vibe” as you liked to say.) Anyhow, you also knew his office was painfully tidy and there was little to no decoration, despite having ample bookshelf space. And so, a display for his not-so-secret hobby seemed like a perfect gift!

But, that wasn’t the only thing you’d added to his present. There was also a card, in which you’d written something along the lines of “I’m so glad I met you…. You deserve so many great things, but hopefully this coin display will suffice for now… I have feelings for you…. Merry Christmas! xxx, y/n” You had sort of just slipped in the confession between other clauses.

“And did you read the card…?” Your face suddenly feels a little warmer. Not that there was anything scandalous in the card, just some very honest words about your feelings for Law. Words you hadn’t ever been bold enough to say out loud and in person, and still hadn’t been brave enough to write without lots of other thoughts and well wishes surrounding them.

“Card?…” You hear some shuffling on his end, “I’ll read it now.”

“Mkay.” Your short response is a telltale sign of your own nerves, which makes him curious to find out what you could’ve written.

There’s a prolonged silence as he reads, and Law’s heart skips a beat as he nears the end. His eyes go back over and over 5 specific words: “…I have feelings for you.” He feels nearly giddy with excitement, but it comes out as pure anxious energy. He never thought this would actually happen; a scenario where you reciprocated his affections had only ever happened in his imagination up until now. Usually in these scenarios, he’d have worked up the courage and audacity to tell you how he felt in person, and not only would you accept his confession; you’d also return his feelings. But now that it was actually happening? He found himself at a loss for words, heart beating in his ears and probably blushing like some lovesick idiot.

Law wants to say something perfect for you, something charming and witty, but all he can think of in the moment is, “… I read it.”

His throat feels dry, like he doesn’t know what else to say. Law likes you too of course- how could he not? Ever since you’d met back in Saobody Archipelago, though the interaction had been brief, he’d thought you were beautiful, strong, and somehow a little different from the other Straw Hat Pirates. Then he’d gotten to know you; really know you, beyond your fighting capabilities and the information on your bounty poster. You were kind, witty, selfless, hardworking, and so much more. And alas, absence only makes the heart grow fonder.

Sure, you’d started off as allies, but that quickly became friendship, and a close friendship at that. He liked you because of your acceptance for nearly anyone, so long as they seemed a good person. Even more so, your ability to understand his emotions despite his usually reserved nature (he secretly thinks it’s some sort of sign, but in reality you’re just emotionally intelligent.) And you like Law because of his obvious (though he tries to hide it) love and passion for so many things: his crew, his work, etc. This, along with his witty, albeit odd sense of humor, made you enjoy his company quite a lot. The two of you took most every chance you had to be in each others company, since they were few and far between. Sometimes you’d chat, with you doing most of the talking and Law being content to listen and only add comments where he thought them necessary. Other times you’d follow each other into battle to provide support for the other, though neither of you had ever really needed help in those situations.

You swallow the lump in your own throat and continue, “You don’t have to have an answer or anything right now, I just want you to know how I feel.” Law doesn’t say anything, and so you continue while trying not to sound disappointed. “Merry Christmas, Law.”

“…”

“Law?”

“I like you too.” his words come out sort in a rush, like he had been holding his breath.

“Y-you do?”

“Yeah.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Well, uh, I have to go now, but… Can I call you tonight?” He asks hesitantly, even though you’ve already confessed that you feel the same way he does.

“Yes, that’s fine! I… I was worried that you didn’t feel the same way for a second.” You laugh, light and airy.

He scoffs, but you know it’s not meant to sound mean when it comes from him. If anything, it’s endearing. “Of course I do.”

You giggle again, “Bye, Law.”

“Bye, y/n.”

As soon as you hang up, his nervous frown turns into a small smile, and it grows and spreads across his face until he’s grinning like a fool and hiding his face under the brim of his hat.

[beannoss]

So, as I'm writing more than I anticipated when I first dipped a toe into SxF fandom (!) I thought I'd collect the meta & fic links in one place! 💕 (not spoiler-free :)

META

Endo describes Twilight as 'matter of fact' rather than 'kind': there's a profound philosophy embedded in that sentiment.

… that matter-of-factness manifests in ways that are, almost unerringly, kind. Twilight values consent, he values empowerment for those around him (...), he privately espouses and practices other values that align with progressive ideologies, like feminism and the rights of the child. Obviously he's 100% antifa and anti-war. One could argue (and perhaps this is what Endo means) that Twilight makes those decisions because they often result in the path of least resistance, making his job easier. Except...

Anya isn’t needed for Strix. Twilight decides to adopt her anyway.

Twilight decides it — “I’m going to rework the mission so it doesn’t involve a child because that’s too dangerous” and he’s 100% right! Donovan Desmond is canonically a far right warmonger with fascistic authoritarian aims... Also it turns out Anya’s a person which is frankly unacceptable — Twilight had needed and anticipated an automaton, ideally of himself in miniature form... So having entertained this change, why go back when his reasoning is indisputable?

Let's get deep into analysing the meaning behind the choice of the word Forger for our family's last name

[Create (a relationship or new conditions)] can be taken as a whole within the Forger household, after all Twilight did create the Forgers. But more importantly to me, this meaning applies particularly by way of what Anya and Yor are doing within the family, their choices and aims, and how they’re influencing and shaping the Forgers. And then, of course, Twilight’s choices in return...

What moment(s) cinched it for Twilight to start developing feelings for Yor?

I think this is the moment for Twilight. He's already been trusting her bit by bit, as he says above, intuitively. I'd suggest that maybe even more than that though, Yor taps into something Twilight deeply wants: backup. Someone and somewhere safe. Maybe we could describe a person fulfilling that role in an adult relationship as a partner...?

What about a Twilight x Yor romance, pre-reveal, in canon? (Ask response)

Twilight’s arc involves finding and forging a new pack, a new family. Somewhere safe and loving... A big part of this safety and love for Twilight is about being accepted, warts and all... Yor’s arc is also around finding love and security, but centred less around acceptance (although that obviously also explicitly features!) and more around self-worth and understanding her value.

Yor: "you take such good care of me"/"I wanted to be able to take care of you"

I don’t really have my thoughts together on this, but something about trust, and vulnerability, and that being taken care of also leads to a yearning to caretake in turn...

I'm going to come back to this one eventually to expand it out 😤

Post Ch 114 thoughts: how the Briar siblings' backstory has largely been through Yuri's eyes so far & how Yor's arc may progress

I've been thinking a lot recently what it means as a deliberate narrative choice for Yor, an obfuscation of the devastation truth of Yor's backstory. I think we all already know it's going to be heartbreaking and harrowing, but through Yuri's eyes, Yor was cheerful and constant for him throughout. But through Yor's? In Yor's own words? From Yor's perspective?

FIC (all fic is Yor x Twilight unless otherwise stated :)

It's only me, what have you got to lose? (M, WIP, on hiatus as I write it as part of the WIP Big Bang)

“Who are you?” Loid met her gaze. Yor wondered what her face was doing, that he was taking so long to answer. “To you, I am Loid Forger.” Why did that hurt more than if he’d struck her? “And to Anya,” he said, some gentleness finally coming into his voice, “I am Loid Forger. Her father. And you are her mother.” Yor stared at him, now certain her devastation was plain on her face. When Yor learns of a plot to kidnap Anya, she returns home to find Loid handling a gun with expert skill, and Anya already taken. After that earth shattering day, in rallying around Anya, Yor and Twilight face a time of uncertainty where choices are made, long-kept secrets are shared, and precarious trust becomes unassailable intimacy.

Relationship & family study. Began with me wanting to explore Yor finding out about Twilight, and has, um, expanded. Identity reveals, angst and fluff, hurt/comfort (emotional and physical), touch starvation, lots of feelings, intimacy, some humour (ah, eventually), mutual pining, eventual smut.

the soft animal of your body (M, WIP)

Affection didn’t come naturally to Twilight. He could perform the usual (or unusual, if that was called for) on honeypot missions, of course. Those encounters were the nearest to affection he’d experienced in years. Decades. He did not count them. However, as affection was something he neither wanted nor needed, it wasn’t something he thought about. The ways affection becomes new again, known again, for Twilight over the course of his mission — and for the rest of the Forgers, too.

Character study. Touch-starvation, emotional hurt/comfort, family feels, cuddling & snuggling, first love, sexual content (tbc on how spicy things will get but tagging in advance), sensuality, There Was Only One Bed, other tags to be added/tags may change. Sick Character (for one chapter). Written for my wonderful SxF person briefhottubcoffee 💞!

Let's start living dangerously (T, Complete)

The real reason Twilight was in the park drilling Bond unnecessarily and covertly training Franky very necessarily, was that Twilight was enacting what he'd called The Avoidance Protocol. And was consequently avoiding his wife. In which Twilight kisses Yor and absolutely does not panic about it.

Character study. Post-reveal, humour, fluff, mutual pining, romance, and lots of thinking and lots of feelings. Also flirts with 'idiots in love', I'll have to add that tag...!

heartlines (T, one-shot complete)

Hello? Appeared on the soft part of the back of his hand, between his thumb and forefinger. He shouldn't have seen it except that something scorching had torn, had burnt, his glove away and he only just noticed that, the way the fabric had curled and crisped and as he stared, as his heart rate went higher and higher — What did that? Could I have lost my hand?! — more words appeared. I could really — this was crossed out— if — crossed out, but then again — if you're — this was then crossed out as well, but the scribbles didn't disappear, just words on his hand with frantic, messy lines through them until one remained unsullied — can we talk? Soulmark: Anything you write or draw on your own skin appears in the same place on your soulmate.

Based on a prompt from this list of soulmate prompts, canon divergence if there existed soulmarks in the SxF world. Pre-relationship, sort of epistolary until it very suddenly isn't 😊

our melodies overlapped (T, WIP, currently on hiatus)

Twilight prided himself on accepting situational changes swiftly and with equanimity. Said swiftness was presently three minutes overdue, and equanimity hadn’t reported for duty. Four times it was for the mission + one time it was for The Mission + one time it was for —

Twilight character study basically! Family-orientated, some Twilight x Yor. On hiatus in part because it's actually led me to disagreeing with myself 😂 and I'll probably need to rework it.

Twilight journaling short fic/headcanon (T, complete)

After Strix, when the Forgers are well established, no secrets between them, Twilight starts journaling. Obviously this is a security risk, so he creates an elaborate cipher. He tests it on Franky. He tests it on the cipher-breakers at WISE. He even feeds some to the SSS. None break it. Satisfied, he starts to journal.

shock to your soft side (T, complete)

Twilight blew out a long breath. “Yor, you're Ostania’s best assassin and you can't stop telling me that this hurts.” “But it does hurt,” Yor said, as though this were explanation enough. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What do you do when something hurts?” Twilight and Yor have... differing... philosophies when it comes to dealing with their own pain and injury.

Minor character & relationship study. Post-reveals, some hurt/comfort, some emotional hurt/comfort, grief/mourning and cuddles.

with you, all in tangles (T, complete)

Three times Yor blows kisses to Twilight and one time Twilight blows a kiss to Yor

About building trust, being flirty, and the secret languages that develop between people who love one another.

(used to be) afraid of love and what it might do (E, complete)

Filling the glass once more, Yor went into the main room. “Oh,” she breathed, swaying to a stop, “My…” Twilight had mussed his hair out of the strict, slicked-back he'd worn for cover, shaken his fringe out into his preferred looser style. Yor liked it best too, but that wasn't what had stopped her — that wasn't what tightened her stomach. He'd taken off his jacket, leaving his emerald vest over his shirtsleeves, rolled up to his elbows, forearms displayed, crossed over his chest. He'd removed his watch. Loosened his tie. Undone the top buttons of his shirt, collars spread to show the hollow of his throat. After Yor does the unexpected while on a joint-mission, an emotional Twilight suggests they do something new in bed, and thrilled, Yor agrees.

Relationship study. Mind the tags: Service Top Twilight, edging, blindfolds, light bondage, makeup sex, trust kink, praise kink, sensual play, enthusiastic consent, caretaking, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling/snuggling, porn with feelings.

Birthday Party FUBAR: Fu**ed Up Beyond All Recognition (G, complete)

Yor set her jaw and met Twilight's eyes again. “Do you think you can do all new food in the next two hours?” Of course he could. He was Twilight. But the problem was, “The whole house needs to be cleaned, Yor. I'm not going to shirk —” “You aren't shirking!” Yor said, stepping right up to him. “This is Anya's birthday.” She put her hand on her chest solemnly. “I will do the cleaning.” Then she put her other hand on his chest and declared, “And you will do the cooking!” Four horrors things that happened at Anya's 6th 7th birthday, and one tradition that started at Anya's 8th 7th birthday

Family fic! Family feels & fluff, fluff & humour, food, time skips (just a little one!) 5+1 Things (but actually it's 4+1) Tooth-rotting fluff. Written for the very charming smolhours 💕!

[ddejavvu]

Would you write dumbification with Hangman?

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Jake is absolutely enamored by the way your cunt stretches tight around his cock. He takes his time getting you wet, pressing hot and heavy kisses to your thighs, to the hood of your clit, licking stripes of spit through your folds until your own wetness greets him. Then when you're ready, when you're tugging at his hair, pulling him up to grip at his muscled biceps, begging for his cock that hangs thick and heavy between his legs, he pushes in.

Your stretched cunt is the perfect size for his cock. He's thick and long; after all, the jokes he makes about his callsign aren't just that. Your cunt stretches deliciously around his length, encasing him in wet warmth that he can't help but pound into.

"God, baby," He pants, hips relentlessly pistoning into your pussy, "That's- ah, you feel so good, so wet and tight, nngh!"

You whine at his breathy praises, practically writhing in pleasure at the feeling of finally being full. Jake's magnificent with his tongue, but nothing beats his cock. You want to tell him how fantastic he feels, how big and thick his cock is, how much you love it when it's stuffing you stupid, but the words won't come out, your voice only able to flow freely and unshapely from your throat in moans and groans each time Jake thrusts forwards.

You're not usually this soft-spoken. You love telling Jake how amazing he feels, you're both suckers for praise. So when you don't return his sentiments, Jake kisses up the side of your neck, nipping gently at your collarbone.

"Does it feel good, baby? Tell me, tell me- ah!" Jake breaks off as your cunt clenches unexpectedly around his cock, "Tell me how it is."

"I- It's-" You babble desperately, clinging to your memory of his own words to help you form the sentence that your own brain can't. You cleave to his biceps like a lifeline, dragging him impossibly closer and deepening the angle of your hips so that he pounds deeper into you. "It's- hnnghohmygod!"

"You-" Jake breaks off with an incredulous laugh, trying not to cum already; he's caught off guard by how attractive your speechlessness is. He has the libido of ten men, he's got energy to burn and he's never had trouble lasting long, but all of a sudden he's about to bust his nut in barely a minute like a depraved teen, all because you can't form the words to tell him how good you feel.

"You can't even say it," Jake marvels, his cocky, pleasure-hazed expression hovering over your face, "You go all stupid on my cock, huh darlin'?"

You try scolding him, your lips forming a weak "Ja-" until his tongue hits your neck, and, combined with his thick cock pounding into you, it shorts out your circuits. The sound transforms into a cry of sorts, a pathetic, "Aah!" That Jake revels in.

"You can't even say my name? Did you forget it, darlin'? Say it," He instructs, "Say my name, sweetheart."

He doesn't let up in his steady, forceful thrusts, slamming the head of his leaking cock into a spot so sensitive it has you seeing stars. The more you struggle to speak, the more turned on he gets, and the faster he jackhammers into you, which only makes you less capable of speech. It's a vicious cycle, and you've lost control ages ago.

"Come on," He teases, nudging his nose against yours, "Come on, angel baby. What's m'name? Say it, fuckin'- scream it, baby, come on."

"J- Ja-" You try, and he takes a hand, gripping your chin and tilting your head back, opening your throat even more. It tears a broken whimper from your throat as you start feeling the crest of your orgasm, and you get sidetracked from your mission.

"That's it. Keep goin', honey. You're halfway there. Don't stop now."

He doesn't really want you to say his name, though. He'd love it if you did, your sweet voice screaming his name always has his floodgates bursting, but what he's really after now is more stuttering, more delicious speechless babbling that let him know he's worked you up more than he ever has before.

When he dips down to suck hard at your neck, surely leaving you with a hickey for tomorrow, you give up. You know you won’t be able to say his name, not as your thighs tremble and a wave of pleasure washes over you. It tingles from your head to your toes, starting at your core and blossoming out from there. You can't control your volume anymore, and you scream, but it's not Jake's name. It's just a piercing wail, lustful and oozing with pleasure as Jake fucks hard through your orgasm. He fucks you right into his own, pushing his lips onto yours in a forceful kiss when they prove useless in uttering his name.

"Fuck," Jake breathes against your mouth, hips slowing gradually as his dick twitches. He's not sure he's ever cum this much, and some of it oozes out from where you're still joined. He watches it spurt from your cunt with a guttural groan in his throat, kissing hot and wet at your spit-soaked lips.

"That was fast, baby," He pants, feeling your thighs shaking as he carefully pulls out, resting on his hip to take his weight off of you, "Just can't control myself when you get all dumb on my cock."

[gogandmagog]

Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery

Anne of the Island, Chapter Six! 

Getting so very close to being finally caught up. 🫡 I’m still in the book clubs dust, but if I squint, I think I can almost see you guys! Apologies to anyone that might see this, that might’ve already previously (and punctually!) shared a sentiment that I spent any amount of time reinforcing in my own posts. I haven’t skimmed the book club’s tag so far, just because I have this brain impediment where if I see someone else has already mentioned something I think, “...oh excellent! Now I needn’t bother!”, only, that everyone is so thorough that if I did go ahead and look at them, and saw everyone’s thoughts, I’m sure I’d find I had nothing left to speak on. A serial liking of all book club posts, coming soon to a notif near you, honestly.  

Some weensy Phil bullets: mostly that well, I persist in representing Team Alec (only until a certain long-legged Minister appears, of course), because here is a fellow who would at least find the mix-up of Phil’s letter postscripts “funny.” This puts him eons and miles and worlds ahead of Alonzo imo... a sense of humour is so necessary!  

Speaking of Redmond football, an insignificant matter that is once again very much nonsense and not particularly worthy of spending any large amount of much time reflecting on, yet remains a great area of interest for me personally... guys, what do we reckon the Redmond Football mascot was? Team name? I know there’s future canon abbreviation of Redmond students as “Reds,” but a colour is hardly a sufficient team name, nor do I really think it’s meant to be taken as such, and listen, no one even think of mentioning the stinking Cleaveland Browns football team to me, lmao.  

“That Gilbert of yours.” + “outraged Anne” AIR KISS to these lines specifically.  

“But Sloane was blissfully ignorant; he thought he was quite a fine fellow to be walking with two such coeds, especially Philippa Gordon, the class beauty and belle. It must surely impress Anne. She would see that some people appreciated him at his real value.” Oh, Charlie. I constantly waffle between feeling pity for Charlie, the butt of many-a-joke, and then also feeling that wellllllll his ego is a little bit exaggerated perhaps - although I suppose we get a clearer sense of that later on. Since all of Avonlea knows that Gilbert’s dead-gone on Anne, to the point of pubic heckling in a Charlottetown newspaper, we must recognise that in Charlie’s mind, he’s in active competition with Gilbert, who has certainly loved Anne the longer. Not an ounce of discernable bro-code anywhere.   

Gilbert quoting some Bret Harte verses to Anne. This boy might not have a propensity for writing original poetry, but his memorisation and ability to drop a line or two so easily? He’s got a romantic soul, for sure. In a lot of ways, between him and Anne, it’s actually Gilbert that’s the romantic one (also see: keeping the rose that fell from her hair, back at the White Sands recital), and Anne the steady practical.  

“Gilbert, who could not connect the idea of sorrow with the vivid, joyous creature beside him, unwitting that those who can soar to the highest heights can also plunge to the deepest depths, and that the natures which enjoy most keenly are those which also suffer most sharply.” This is heavy. But more than anything, something I very much enjoy about Maud’s work is her ability to maintain core characterisation. I see this line, and I also think of how much it (later) casts light onto Gilbert’s struggle to really relate to some of Walter’s Anneishness. There’s a wonderful yin and yang balance between the slinky black cats and golden retrievers of the world, and often enough they are deeply attracted to each other, but there are some differences that can never been fully reconciled.  

The matter of Spofford Avenue! Again the scholars have already done a ton of the legwork, and lots of preliminary digging into Maud’s journals, picking out real-life links between between her time in Halifax and how it corresponds to Anne’s… and they’ve decided, very logically, that Spofford Avenue was based on Young Avenue.

At the time, Halifax was one of the richest cities in Canada and building on Young Avenue, definitely reserved for prominent families and the wealthiest, apparently came with enough beautification restrictions to satisfy even the choosiest A.V.I.S. member, only of a few of which I can easily remember… that power poles were banned on the basis of being “unsightly,” for starters. I know there’s a whole essay dedicated to the ‘real’ Kingsport somewhere, and if I can find it instead of just my jumbled notes & misc. folder on it, I’ll be sure to share it in case anyone’s interested. 🧐 I also recall that a very real tobacco king called Alexander Hobrecker (‘Hobrecker House’) did indeed make residence on Young Avenue, though whether or not he really had an affinity for well-made country quilts, is anyone’s guess.

[spacesapphi]

HES Trio Headcanon Time! (HCs below the cut, this is a long one)

TW for mentions of bullying, death, parental death, car accident, drinking, and neglect

Elliot

- he's 30yrs old and 6'0, very lanky and tall and covered in freckles. His hair is curly too!

- HC for his voice has to be Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, just has that romantic voice that fits him so well

- his family is of Irish descent and his last name is Lillis, which he finds sounds VERY romantic!

- growing up he was so obsessed with classical literature that he would often pretend his life was a novel, narrating his daily life in his head

- LOVESSSS pride & prejudice, Phantom of the Opera, and Les Mis, he'll talk your ear off about them if you let him

- was unfortunately bullied a lot for his interests growing up, even at home. He tried not to let it dampen his spirit, but it was difficult. He channels a lot of that pain into his writing

- his parents never really respected his hobbies, and his brothers weren't that kind in general. Elliot often felt alone in his house, like he was a misunderstood outcast that didnt have anyone. One of his favorite book series as a kid was Anne of Green Gables, as he connected to her feeling out of place and different from everyone around her

- pretty much canon, but he's a lightweight. One drink and he's GONE. Hes gets silly and giggly when he's drunk too

- he's autistic (I feel like everyone in the HES trio is) and his special interest is around literature, specifically romance literature. Anytime he sees something notable happen in town, or a couple do anything he goes "Oh this is just like x character in x book!" And he'll infodump about the story to anyone who will listen (usually Leah or Penny)

- he gets along well with Penny and shes actually been his test reader and editor for many of his published pieces! He always puts her name in the "special thanks" section

- takes much pride in his appearance, especially his hair. Before the farmer arrived he was the one practically keeping Pierre in business for self care products because he REFUSED to go to Joja bc "Do you know how many CHEMICALS are in those things?!"

- maladaptive daydreamer for sure. He gets frustrated with the way he cant stop daydreaming, and how music always seems to intensify it. On one hand, it gives him ideas for his writing, on the other it makes it hard for him to interact with others. When he's home alone in his cabin, Finding him pacing around, listening to his favorite CDs and records is common

- his love language is sentimental gifts. They don't need to be elaborate or expensive grand gestures. If you mention loving a certain food he'll make it for you, he'll get you things in your favorite color just to make you smile. Hes a very sweet man!

- he has a beautiful laugh!

- wears dangly earrings all the time. He likes very sparkly ones with jewels, ones that make him feel like he's in a romantic period piece. He has a killer collection of them!

Harvey

- he's 35yrs old and 6'2, though you can't tell because he's often slouched over (bad habit, he knows. His back hurts all the time). He's a chubby guy too, which makes him feel self conscious, but he learns to love himself :)

- My HC for his voice is Simon Petrikov, specifically the way he speaks in Fiona and Cake, I cannot imagine it any differently LMAO

- Harveys family is of Italian descent and his last name is Russo!

- grew up with just his mom and grandpa. His mom was a doctor and his grandpa was a retired pilot who helped spark his love for flying. He died when Harvey was 12, leaving some model planes and that radio he keeps in his office to him with a note telling him to always reach for the skies.

- Harvey has a bit of a lisp, and spent a lot of time in speech therapy as a kid. Words with lots of "s" sounds are tricky for him

- he actively went through so much testing to be a pilot, but when he got to the actual flight test where he had to get into a plane he got so anxious he threw up and ran away

- he realized then and there that he couldnt do it, and it was a hard reality to face. A lot of crying, and a lot of struggling to accept his dream wasn't attainable. He felt like he was letting his grandpa down, but his mom promised he wasn't

- when he decided to go to medical school, he couldn't decide what his focus was going to be to save his life, he changed it constantly. It took about two years to land on primary care physician and even then he still kept researching other tracks. This would come in hand once he got to pelican town and became the only doctor

- often too exhausted to cook for himself, which is why he buys so much processed food. Shane gives him a lot of shit for it every time he sees him at JojaMart ("don't say SHIT to me at my next checkup if you're going to buy that")

- his eyesight is so bad. He can't see a foot in front of him without his glasses. He's also incredibly clumsy and falls and breaks them often (I mean where did you THINK all those broken glasses you were fishing up were from?)

- like Elliot, was a victim of bullying in school, especially highschool :( Nerdy guy with a plane interest that stuck to himself was unfortunately a prime target, and he found himself in a rough situation. It actually got so bad that he took a special test to be able to graduate early so he didn't have to deal with it anymore. He passed it in tenth grade, and put all his energy into studying to be a pilot until he was old enough to join courses for it

- his mom was his biggest advocate, and was regularly down at his school to yell at administration for letting the bullying get that bad. She loved her son more than anything and would do anything for him. She was the one to suggest testing out of school, not wanting him to go through all of that for years.

- hes still close with his mom, and they regularly call and write letters to each other to keep up. Since Harvey lives so far now, they mostly meet up on important days like birthdays, holidays, and to go visit his grandfather's grave every once in a while

Shane

- he's 30yrs old and 5'7, and he hates both of those facts. Being the shortest man in town and one of the oldest single ones is a bit of a blow to his self esteem. He's pretty bulky too, a combination of muscle from working on the ranch and as a stocker, and fat from drinking and diet

- I go back and forth on his voice HC constantly, but I like the common fan interp of him sounding kinda like Nick Miller from new girl, it fits too well

- Shane is Pennsylvania Dutch on his mothers side and his last name (along with Marnies) is Yoder!

- that being said he knows very little of the PA Dutch language, though Marnie speaks it fluently. He has a bit of an accent from growing up with her

- croc wearer, don't tell me otherwise. He has a few everyday pairs, a fur lined pair for when it gets cold, and what he calls his "formal Crocs" (literally just black Crocs with bowtie jibbits this man is so fucking corny). He has normal shoes too, like sneakers and boots for the winter and work, but nothing beats his Crocs

- Jas has tried to call him dad a few times, but it makes him sad. He doesn't feel good enough to deserve that title, and he feels like he'd be disrespecting his friends by trying to take it over.

- Was in the accident that killed her parents. They took him out to celebrate his 25th birthday, going to a Tunnelers game. They were hit by a reckless driver going far above the speed limit on the way back home, and he was the only one who made it. One moment Shane was having the time of his life with his best friends in the world, the next he's waking up in the hospital finding out they're gone. As a result, his birthday has become a bit of a sore subject, hence why he "was hoping he'd forget" anytime he gets a birthday gift

- his leg got really hurt in the accident, and though its healed, he still often needs compression braces to deal with chronic pain from it. Working at Joja and on the ranch aren't exactly low impact after all

- Marnie is his only bio family thats alive and on speaking terms with him. She practically raised him for the most part, with his dad gone and mother having passed when he was little. His mother was Mona, the same Mona from the cemetery. She was Marnies twin sister, and the photo in secret note 11 is her and baby shane.

- He and Emily were childhood bestfriends growing up, and dated in highschool. They realized after about a year that they just worked better as friends though, and remain besties to this day

- he's transgender he told me himself

- Marnie was also incredibly supportive of his transition and she's fiercely protective of him. He may technically be her nephew but she sees him more as a son and thus goes full mama bear when it comes to him

- even though he doesn't take great care of himself, he makes sure jas is well taken care of, especially after he starts recovery. His clothes may be threadbare and worn, and he may look like he hasn't slept in a year, but Jas will *always* have everything she could ever need... and want. Ngl he kinda spoils her a little, especially after he cuts back and can afford it more. He feels bad saying no to her given all that she's gone through. She has a doll collection that could make the most avid collectors jealous

- he makes sure he spends time with her too, taking days off for festivals because she wants him there, taking the day off for her birthday, and trying his best to be there for her. It's an upward struggle for him to get better so he can be there for her, but he's trying

- after Joja closes down, Marnie offers him a full time job at the ranch, including pay and board. He takes the offer IMMEDIATELY, and does an amazing job at it. She's certain she'll be leaving the ranch to him once she's retired

- if you want to get him to do anything, tell him him it involves chickens in some way. Chickens are his special interest for SURE. Chicken print socks, corny puns, joke tshirts, he has it all. He practically becomes the organizer of the Egg Festival yearly once he's started recovery, putting a crazy amount of work into it to make sure it goes well. Same with the Valley Fair's petting zoo. The amount of pride he gets talking about the animals to tourists is unmatched, and it's one of the few times Marnie gets to see him look as happy as he did before the accident. Those moments are fleeting, but everytime she can see that light in his eyes she feels like everything will be ok.

[kierstins-astrology3]

Solar Return Results from 2023-2024💟💟💟

This is a post about my past Solar return (last years) to compare events with the astrological placements from when I turned 19 to when I was about to turn 20!

Sun in 10h 5°: Focused on my career a lot and figuring out what kind of career I want to passionately pursue.

Moon in 2h 8°: Worried about my finances last year because I did not have a job but I still wanted money.

Mercury in 11h 29° : Communicated and was online a lot through tumblr, Instagram, TikTok.

Venus in 11h 27° : Also started being on dating apps more and all talking stages last year were online and met them online. Also started this astrology blog which I love doing.

Mars in 11h 11° : Created this blog again and having ambitions about possibly pursuing a career on social media or marketing. Also the planet of sex and was talking to other people this way on socials.

Jupiter in 8h 13°: Expanding my knowledge about spirituality, astrology, even getting an astrology book for my birthday and continuously writing my own astrology observations.

Saturn in 5h 5° : Had short term romances that did not work out but also got back into my creative side for example getting a sketch book for Christmas and getting back into drawing and painting.

Uranus in 8h 22°: Posted on socials with this blog on spirituality and astrology and became more serious about astrology more then ever.

Neptune in 6h 27°: Putting more creativity in my everyday routine but also having delusions about what a perfect routine for someone my age looks like.

Pluto in 4h 28°: Becoming more sentimental about my home and family also being more emotional when thinking about my family members getting older.

North Node in 7h 28° : Did not get into a serious relationship this year but I did get some college related work opportunities presented to me. Was emotional this year about not experiencing teenage and young adult love.

Chiron in 7h 19°: Heartbreaks throughout a couple of months of last year. Definitely healed me and made me a better person & realize that I cannot change anyone and if someone puts the time and effort that they will without a doubt no matter the circumstances.

Part of Fortune in 4h 14°: Luck with home and family and being more appreciative of my home and family and my family was more stable.

Vertex in 7h 29°: Didn’t get into a relationship but had some long talking stages and some school related opportunities and also with the degree being a long term fame degree probably represented the three months talking stage and the ending of a year long situationship.

Juno in 10h 20°: Was more focused on my school work as well as thinking about my future career. Definitely last year realized that I want a hardworking partner in the future and I want to be more hardworking in all areas of life.

Groom in 5h 9°: Guys that I talked to last year had been more short term and fun based. They definitely were not looking for something serious.

Ascendant: Libra 11°: Definitely felt more beautiful and even got some compliments on my appearance saying that I looked beautiful/ younger.

Descendant: Aries 11°: In terms of a relationship I wanted one so bad and passionately but I was also not feeling the connections I was in and was being cold / detached. I also realized that I am attracted to more Martian qualities in men but not women.

MC: Cancer 12°: Definitely wanted a career where I can help others open up emotionally and also practice spirituality. Also my reputation to others that I was more sensitive and focusing on astrology.

Mercury Conjunct Venus in Leo 11h: Being online and also loving being online. Loved communicating with people online and was open to having a long distance relationship.

Saturn Conjunct Asteroid Groom Pisces 5h: Some obstacles creatively when talking to potential partners and I would go back and forth because I didn’t want to lose myself and my new found creativity.

[tenkobitch]

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

Neuvillette x Immortal! G/N Reader

Genre: Fluff, immortals/long living characters, eternal lovers, married couple, established relationship

A/N: I was scrolling through Tumblr and got inspired to write this from ONLY seeing Neuvillette's name. Anyways, I wrote this while listening to Malice Mizer (Gardenia, Au Revoir, and Baroque are my current favorites), so I hope y'all enjoy <3

You and Neuvillette have always loved each other, but you both often had doubts on if you'd be together forever. Especially given the fact that your husband is a dragon and you were cursed with immortality. And these doubts weren't because you didn't love each other or because you both didn't think the other person didn't love you. No, the doubts were because you both thought you'd get bored of each other.

You practically knew Neuvillette from inside and out, and you assumed that your husband knew the same about you. If you knew someone that well, you'd probably get tired of them after a while. Especially after being with them for 300 years.

You were cursed with immortality 100 years before you met your equally immortal lover, at the lovely age of 20. It wasn't because you did something wrong like break a contract, or even sell your soul to a witch and they gave you immortality. You were cursed because your homegrown garden had grown over to your neighbor's side of the fence.

Your neighbor happened to be a mage, or wizard, or whatever, and had a tendency to hold grudges. So, they sent you a letter that passed on the curse of immortality to anyone who read it. As soon as you were told this by said mage, wizard, or whatever they were, you burned the note to completion, and you never looked back.

You met Neuvillette when you first moved to Fontaine. You would hear all sorts of rumors about the man at court, and you often found everyone's words to be true. The rumors couldn't be more wrong, because you were confronted by a man that was nothing like what the whispered words said.

Neuvillette treated you as his equal, and when you became closer, a confidant. He never spoke badly about anyone, even the criminals he would sentence to a life in prison. He was always curious about how humans acted, and he couldn't be further from the image that you conjured in your head.

He was kind to anyone or anything he passed by, and even when he was faced with the public in court, he would make the trials as fair as he could. He never wanted to declare someone guilty unless he really believed they deserved it, and he was always consistent with his judgments. It did not matter how much he loved you, because if you ever did something that was against the law, he would make his conclusions based on facts. Never on emotions.

And as you saw the way he grew before your eyes, you couldn't help but feel entranced. Every time he spoke to you, you always wondered if he felt the exact same. He never alluded to his feelings for anyone unless he said how he felt, which wasn't often. You didn't notice your love for him until he finally spoke to you about his feelings.

"Dear, I do not know how to confess this to you, but I was told by the Melusines that my feelings for you were known as 'love'. Do you, perhaps, 'love' me as well?"

To say that you were shocked was an understatement. Regardless, you both explored the meaning of "love" with one another, and you both fell hard. Neuvillette couldn't be away from you for even a second, and he always whispered his desires to protect and love you forever in his sleep. You couldn't help but share the sentiment with him.

Now, the only things that had changed were Neuvillette's clinginess, and he seemed more sure and determined to make Fontaine a better place. For you, you finally stopped getting distracted at the thought of coming home to your husband and spending every waking second with him, and you decided that finding new hobbies to try wouldn't hurt you. Despite the changes, you both were still in love with each other. It was just more subtle, and not as needy.

Neuvillette was busy studying cases from the last couple of years, so you took it upon yourself to make a list of things you needed to buy from the market. You made a list of what to get, and you were on your merry way to the center of Fontaine.

When you finally arrived, you noticed all of the things that they had exclusively had at the markets. They had mini sculptures of the Hydro Archon, Furina, who you knew well. There were other knick knacks across the tables as well, but you only bought the things you intended to.

That was until you came across the cutest thing: a mini dragon sculpture. It was a beautiful sea blue, and it looked very similar to your husband's dragon form. You immediately picked it up and bought it. You quickly made your way back home and swiftly found the appropriate materials to wrap the tiny dragon in. You intended to gift it to Neuvillette as soon as he got home, and knowing him, he'd probably love anything you gave him.

You patiently waited for him to get home, and he did not disappoint you. As he walked through the door, undressing himself from his court robes, you stood in front of him with your gift waiting in your hands. He turned to give you a small smile as he leaned down to softly kiss you. As he pulled away, he noticed your hands moving the object in your hands impatiently, and he continued to smile at your antics.

You practically shoved the gift into his chest when he finally gestured for the item. He looked to you for guidance, and you only nodded, gesturing that he unwrapped your gift. He did so, and his smile turned into confusion. You laughed before giving him an explanation.

"I saw this at the market today... It reminded me of you." Neuvillette's eyes softened as he pulled you into his chest. You inhaled his scent and pulled him into you for a while longer. You both gladly stood there with one another, and you only broke apart when your husband had to continue getting changed.

And as you retired for the night, you felt a sense of calm wash over you both. When it didn't seem to go away, you spoke up.

"Neuvi, do you ever wonder if we'll drift apart?" You asked out of curiosity, but you regretted it when you heard his response.

"Well, of course I wonder. It is hard not to think about things like that." Even though you've always felt the same, you felt your heart crack the tiniest bit. It was one thing to assume that your partner felt that way, but it was another to actually hear them say it. But what happened next didn't surprise you in the least.

"But, if we've been with each other for this long, it seems that fate has destined us to be together for as long as possible." This eased your heart and it pulled you back into reality. Every couple, no matter how long they've been together, has thought about the possibility of breaking off, and it shouldn't be different for you both. You leaned back against the headboard as your husband leaned his head on top of yours. You stayed like that for a while, and without any warning, you kissed Neuvillette on the lips gently. He smiled.

"Well, I guess you are right. Even when we should be bored of each other, we're always together. You are the love of my life, and I'm glad I had a chance to meet you." You smiled up at the man in front of you, trying not to completely fall apart in tears. The long haired man nudged his forehead against yours, causing you to look into his eyes with the same intensity as his.

"I am glad that I make you as happy as you make me. Let us always be here. Let us continue to be here in this moment, in this decade, in this century, and hopefully for eternity. I love you so." You couldn't hold back anymore tears as you hid yourself in Neuvillette's chest. He stroked your hair as you continued to cry your eyes out in his (now) soiled night shirt.

When you finally managed to lift your eyes from your husband's chest, you heard the calmest noise ever. The one thing that could lull you to sleep if you weren't with Neuvillette:

Rain.

It was raining outside, and despite how calming it was, you knew what it really meant. You gazed up at your lover's face, but his eyes never looked sad or upset. He looked calm, and you could see a flicker of happiness beneath the sea of his dark blue eyes. You concluded that these were his happy tears, showing you every part of his love for you.

And you would get to experience every ounce of his love for the rest of your days.

*Bonus*

Neuvillette arrives at the Palais Mermonia with a small smile on his face, and the Melusines take notice.

Sedene (Melusine): "What are you smiling about~"

Neuvillette: "I don't know if I should tell you."

Sedene: "Come on! It's rare for anyone other than the Melusines to see you smile!"

Neuvillette lets out a relaxing sigh, turning to the Melusine.

Neuvillette: "I didn't think that I would feel this happy since I confessed my love to my partner, but I have been proven wrong."

He sighs once more before giving into Sedene's demands.

Neuvillette: "I am smiling because my lover for eternity has told me that they loved me, and that they are glad to have met me."

Before the curious Melusine could question Neuvillette more, he walked into his office, feeling the weight of the world fall off his shoulders. He would continue to fall in love with you over and over again, until fate had decided to take you both away.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

[vegaspam]

until next time / part two / raven to jake

this is not a full fic! this is the text-post version of the letter photos from my fic over on my main blog @vivalas-vega that you can read here

Dear Jake,

I regret to inform you that your reputation does precede you, however I guess I have to thank you for your invasion of privacy because your letter made me laugh after a long weekend back home. I think your need to apologize flies in the face of everything I’ve heard, so maybe you’re on the right track with the whole ‘not being a dick’ thing.

I found it a little audacious that you decided to respond to everything that wasn’t written for you, but if an update is what you want then an update you shall get. I did get my Manolo’s back and he called me superficial for caring more about shoes than how he felt. He pulled the whole ‘I don’t really care about her, I just got caught up in it’ thing which obviously didn’t work. It’s all a mess but it seems to be over now so at least there’s that.

New York is kind of its own living, breathing entity. I moved here for college and just never left after graduation. It’s a great city for creatives which is why I’m still here, the nightlife is amazing, you never have to worry about your favorite artist skipping your city and what they say about the pizza and bagels is true. There are worse places to live, but it can definitely take a toll. It’s not for everyone, and it wasn’t until my junior year that I felt like I knew this place and how to live in it.

I unfortunately don’t have much drama to report back on, at least nothing specific, but I can respect the love of drama that doesn’t involve oneself. As predicted most of the drama was focused on my breakup and the inevitable trying to push me and Bradley together. My sister brought her boyfriend, he’s in a punk band and tatted head to toe. His outward appearance can take you aback at first but he’s the biggest sweetheart, not that anyone in my family would know because after my time in the spotlight their attention turned towards little digs towards him. It was all very, very predictable.

I’m not surprised Bradley hasn’t mentioned me much - he can be quite secretive and protective. I’m not really sure what he’s shared with you all about his personal life and I don’t want to slip and disclose something I shouldn’t but we met in elementary school. My mom’s great but, as you could probably glean from the previous paragraph, we don’t see eye to eye on much. Carole was kind of my saving grace until she passed. She’s the whole reason I’m even a writer, if it wasn’t for her I might have ended up a douchey doctor like Matthew.

You’re not as bad at letter writing as you might think, and don’t feel bad about not having cool paper. Bradley always picks out the lamest stationary and I gave the rest of my pages to my friend who's a third grade teacher. For a writer I wasn’t so great at it the first deployment we decided to do this, but it gets easier with practice. I used to give him crap for wanting to do this like we’re star crossed lovers during wartime but I couldn’t imagine not doing it now. 

You didn’t have to get even, but I appreciate the sentiment and I feel bad for laughing at a younger you… that really is horrifying and I’m sorry they did that to you. I can unfortunately imagine exactly what happened, and it’s not your fault. It happens to every guy when exposed to extreme cold, not that teenagers would care about that. I can only imagine the nicknames, I have some ideas of my own but I’ll keep them to myself to spare you further humiliation. I don’t think you’re a jackass - it’s admirable you wanted to correct your mistake, harmless as it may have been. I’m quite used to strangers reading my writing so let yourself off the hook.

Bradley offered me his place while you guys are gone. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to but I am considering it - a slower pace and beach access sounds a little too good right about now. I’ve heard you’re a big fan of going out so if I make it out there you’ll have to tell me your favorite spots. I’ll also definitely keep the Star Wars thing in mind - I could also talk about it for hours but I’ll make sure I’m prepared before bringing it up to Fanboy. Considering his callsign, I’m guessing that’s a blanket warning for all things nerdy?

I have to admit, it’s a little weird to be writing you a letter. I think Bradley has softened to you in the past few months but it almost feels like I’m consorting with the enemy. Not that you were enemies, but hopefully you’ll forgive me for saying you definitely weren’t friends either. Your letter leads me to believe you’re not as bad as he lets on - however, he did just prove me wrong regarding Matthew so perhaps my judge of character isn’t to be trusted. Either way, I don’t mind adopting an additional aviator if you feel so inclined to keep writing me. Bradley doesn’t tell me much, but I do know it can get rough out there, especially being gone so long. I can’t promise to be entertaining, but you have my address if you get desperate.

Safe flying,

Raven

[lambilegs]

college!au lee honestly gives basketball vibes but like idk if she's tall enough...

let's ignore that tho!!!

college!au lee that looks at you before making a shot to show that its for you and then misses 😭. she gets so embarrassed and after the game you have to comfort her and tell her it was still romantic. and at timeouts when the coach is talking to her team, she forgets to listen because she's too busy trying to figure out what you're mouthing and signalling to her from the bleachers. she ends up getting scolded for not paying attention. you two go to the local park together to play on one of the courts but it just ends up being you chucking the ball and somehow sending it backwards while Lee stresses and tries to figure out why you're so bad. and when u don't have class you just watch her training sessions. you feel bad while her coach yells at the team and makes them do pushups after messing up but also feel slightly thankful as you thirst over lee. and ofc you cheer even when she does something as little as catching the ball. how could u not? you're just her biggest fan.

could i be 🍒 anon? love your writing btw!!

BRO PLS???? ALL OF THESE HAD BE ACTUALLY GIDDY WHEN I WOKE UP TO THEM AHHHHHH!! also... I fear I yapped. and omg, thank you sm, so so glad you enjoy my writing :"") and yes, you can totally be an anon <333

PLEASEEEE she'd be such a loser omg like, I could totally see the reason she misses being that she got anxious and was overthinking the shot because she knew you'd be watching her now. but, then, she would have some rizz -- like, if she has a particularly good game where she gets all her shots in, and you're giddily asking her about it afterwards, she looks around before quietly pressing you to the nearest wall, eyes bright and earnest as she murmurs, "you know they were all for you, right?" LIKE 💗💗 you'd be a completely flustered mess, face warm as she waits for your response. also, when she does make a shot that goes in, your eyes are the ones she immediately locks with, a small smile on her face.

THIS IS SO FUNNY BUT THE STUFF ABOUT HER COACH SCOLDING HER REMINDS ME OF CARTER LMFAOOOO. can we please make carter the coach in every sports!au? because when I think of lee getting scolded by her coach for trying to decipher your gestures, I think of carter in the movie when he's like, "alright, that's enough, harker!" LMFAO but, yeah, I think she's totally prone to zoning out during practice or when her coach is directing the team, distracted either by the sight of you flashing her signals, or even her own thoughts, like where she'll take you out tomorrow, or the assignment she has due this upcoming thursday.

STOP THE LOCAL PARK :((( that idea is so stinking cute omg!!!! like, you two going there together, destressing and taking a break from the busy schedule of classes and assessments. you'd beg for her to show you all the new tricks she's learned from her team, and she'd be so shy and tentative at first, but then do as you ask, part of her secretly wanting to impress you. AND LMFAOOOO she'd literally look at you so blankly when you absolutely obliterate your shot, just plainly saying, "how did you even manage to do that?" despite being just mildly offended, you seize the opportunity to ask her for lessons, holding back a shy laugh when she presses her firm chest to your back, arms reaching over yours as her long fingers intertwine with yours, carefully adjusting your grip. you nearly pant on the spot when she mutters against your ear, "there you go, that's good." and when she lowers slightly on her knees, grazing your thighs to help fix your posture, you nearly combust KDJSKDJ. it gets to the point where you gotta just toss the ball to the side, spin around and surprise her with a sudden kiss, which has her stumbling and mumbling against your lips, "but, the training" -- a sentiment not really convincing with how she wraps her arms around you, kissing you back hehe

DUDE AND THE PUSH-UP THING, YOU ATEEEE. like, I've thought about this soooo many times before, but lowkey, lee doing push ups while you're lying under her? 🤭 a sight for sore eyes, especially if she's frustrated after a practice and is working out to let off some steam hehehe

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

oh! you rebloged that ask list too! I got so caught up in answering my own inbox I forgot to send you numbers ^^;

let's see... how about 5, 9, 12, 28, annnnd 32 for Est (+ whoever else you want to talk about!) :3

asdfsd i didn't get around to any of it til now anyway haha; dw

5. how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?

exceedingly practical! this is enabled by the fact that what she finds most comfortable just so happens to overlap with things that are good for adventuring. she loves a good heavy-duty pants and sturdy boots and heavy cloak setup. every once in awhile she'll be in the mood for something fancier; then she likes real flowy stuff that doesn't cling to her or get twisted weird when she tries to climb a tree or whatever because she forgot she wasn't wearing pants lol

9. favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?

ohhh idk what her favorites are. she's not really picky, and she'll try anything at least once- she almost got used to Viznak Swamp Stew even haha. can't go wrong with a good soup. she likes making pastries a lot more than eating them. she doesn't exactly have access to things like fruit gummies or sour patch kids or whatever, but she wouldn't be a fan of how they get stuck in her teeth. she likes some spice, but it's not her favorite seasoning. there are a couple recipes she got from the zhelruka that she's actually really fond of, but they often don't come out quite right for her (enough differences in ingredients mostly). she doesn't see the appeal of mushrooms; they're fine but why do they inspire such strong opinions in some people?

12. how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

oh wait is this. in world or out lol. in world she's somewhere between 750 and 800; i don't think i ever picked something more specific than that (and if i did i probably changed my mind three times afterwards). i may have picked a season for her birthday but?? i didn't write it down anywhere immediately accessible to me so [shrugs]. we'll say it's in the early summer this time. out of world she's a little more than five years old by now; i started writing her stuff in fall 2019 when i got to the end of the grey company arc and discovered my pc had grown a personality when i wasn't looking

as for est's opinions on birthdays... she enjoys it well enough, but mostly it's just another day. it's good for having another excuse to get some friends together and hang out, but other than that she's rather ambivalent on it (she Loved them when she was real little though lol)

28. how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?

est: feel free to talk about this thing you like for as long as you want :) of course i'll come with you; where are we going? do you want to learn a rune? please be safe. i'm right here, promise.

32. do they have any habits that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?

oh yeah. i wouldn't say it's odd that she collects rocks the way she does, really, but her criteria do seem baffling to most people lol. she also tends to keep notes on things her friends like and talk about a lot. she wants them to be able to talk all they want, but she's afraid of forgetting stuff and not being able to actually hold a conversation about it. she's also a little bit of a packrat about sentimental things especially, which is why her runebag is always full of random junk

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

Beverley Nichols and the Bensons

E. F. (Fred) Benson, Beverley Nichols and A. C. (Arthur) Benson

Beverley Nichols dined with Fred and went into raptures about [Fred's] house, saying in his usual whimsical way that the furniture seemed to have been put in its place by the gentle hands of Time; the pictures had almost grown into the walls; and the carpets had sprung naturally from the floors like some gracious form of grass. According to Nichols, Fred's face glowed with happiness as he showed his guest round the house. He was described as ‘a smallish (Fred was five feet ten), pinkish, twinkling, urbane, grey-flannel-trousered man’ who had finally come to rest in a quiet London square, having retained the sparkle of his eyes, his taste for Italian wine and, above all, his love of a sheet of white paper in the stillness of the night. Fred, who had not ‘come to rest’ at all, noted with amusement the slight cattiness behind Nichols's gush. [Geoffrey Palmer and Noel Lloyd, E. F. Benson: As He Was]

Beverley Nichols was a lunch guest and on one occasion he came with his nephew. This must have been the time he was contemplating his piece “E. F. Benson, or Very Much at Home” (from Are they the same at home? 1927), because Mr Benson asked him if he was going to show it to him before he published and he said yes. But apparently he didn't, as Mr Benson was pretty peeved at a reference in the article to his novels "growing more and more dusty on the shelves of the subscription libraries. He doesn't care, I'm sure." In fact he did. "Mr Benson didn't like that at all," said Charlie [Tomlin]. Mr Benson had a mild dig at him in retaliation in some review of a publication where Beverley Nichols is in Italy or somewhere abroad and suddenly at the end realises it is April and the daffodils are blooming in England. So he has to rush home, of which Mr Benson wrote "I hope to God he got back in time." (Beverley Nichols was to retain a certain animosity towards Mr Benson until his own death in 1983.) [Cynthia and Tony Reavell, E. F. Benson: Remembered, and the World of Tilling]

Despite this shared animosity between him and Fred, Nichols previously maintained a long friendship with the older Benson brother, Arthur:

In the space of two minutes my war — my very special war — seemed much less unpleasant, because my new friend was none other than the Master of Magdalene, A. C. Benson, whose father had been one of Queen Victoria's favourite Archbishops. There were three Benson brothers, all distinguished in their separate ways, though the only one who is nowadays remembered is E. F. Benson, who is currently enjoying a belated revival as a writer of Edwardian comedy. A. C. Benson, whom I came to know very well indeed, was a true scholar and an admirable administrator, with a knack of coaxing large sums out of American philanthropists for the benefit of Magdalene, which was his chief love. A beautiful little college it was, with a library of exceptional distinction, founded on the original bequest from Samuel Pepys. Benson was a mixed-up man, who had a habit of developing sentimental attachments at a moment's notice, and no doubt this was what had occurred when he met me in the porch, though I did not at first realise the full implications of the encounter.

[…] Ever since my departure [A. C. Benson] had kept in touch through a constant stream of correspondence. No young man ever had a kindlier mentor; he wrote as an equal, drawing me out, seeking my opinions. He was not only kindly but practical. Realising that I had no means apart from my meagre Second Lieutenant's pay, he took some of my letters and sent them to an American magazine called The Outlook with the suggestion that they should be published anonymously. They were accepted, and the editors asked for more. Altogether I made five hundred dollars from The Outlook, which was a small fortune in those days. For the first time I knew the excitement of writing words on paper and selling them, of twisting my pen into symbols that could be exchanged for gold. Which is all that authorship has ever been about, or ever will be. I do not know whether The Outlook still survives and Benson's letters to me have long since disappeared, with the exception of one, which I kept and cherished because I had a feeling that it was a landmark in my life.

"My Dear Beverley, We do not know each other as we might have done, but if you have come to know me at all you will have realised that one of my ‘complexes’ — I believe that is the fashionable expression — is a hatred of waste. Perhaps that is why I can claim some success as the Master of Magdalene. I keep a very strict watch on the outgoings of the Bursary! But it is not only a matter of accountancy. It goes deeper than that. I am bewildered and alarmed by the profligacy of Nature, and even more bewildered and alarmed by the wastage of this hideous war. I think that you are being wasted. You have many talents and none of them is being used. With your precarious state of health your sphere of activities must be limited, but that does not mean that you can be of no use at all. As soon as I see an opportunity I propose to do something about this. Once you suggested to me — with that never-failing impertinence which I find so engaging — that I was an ‘intri- guant.’ (I had been telling you the story of the ingenious manner in which I had persuaded a Chicago millionaire to give us ten thousand dollars for our beloved Library.) You could not have paid me a higher compliment. Intrigue, to me, is the spice of life. I am an ancient spider, sitting in the centre of an ancient web, weaving ancient spells. And some of them will shortly be speeding in your direction. My affectionate greetings, A.C.B."

The ink of the letter has dimmed to a sickly sepia, and the address on the envelope, with its faded penny stamp, is almost illegible. But I still feel a glow of warmth as I read it, with half a century of disillusionment behind me. [Beverley Nichols, The Unforgiving Minute: Some Confessions from Childhood to the Outbreak of the Second World War]

[dinkbear]

my honest review/analysis kinda of the new camp camp special (MEGA SPOILERS!)

okay i’ll start this out by saying i really liked it! when i watched it at first, i wasn’t crazy about it, then i rewatched (almost) the entire series and it gave me a new perspective. i didn’t realize how much of the series i had forgotten about considering i haven’t watched it in 2+ years. so i got to see the characters develop all over again.

i thought the story was very much something kids would go through and i thought their reactions and behavior was very believable. but, throughout the entire thing, i felt like some of the dialogue was very forced and some of it kinda fan-servicey?? like the “somebody fucking has to” throwback felt forced to me, but that brings me to another point. i think the new voice actors are pretty good, max sounds practically the exactly the same (which is good because i thought his old voice was perfect for his character) but his new VA definitely needs to find his spunk, which is completely fair, i’m an actor i know how long it can take to completely get into character. but i think that made some of the dialogue from him feel forced. and not just him, some of the characters who’s VAs didn’t change still had some dialogue that felt forced. and i get why they did it but it was like a drastic change from regular goofy david in the first half to soft and sentimental david in the second where he had his serious, soft voice on the entire time. 

i really liked how they had the two stories/fakeout ending thing! the only thing is i wish we would’ve had more time to expand on max’s emotions to the camp closing. i really liked seeing his facial expressions and how he reverted back to his yelling and snapping because he was upset. granted i understand why they couldn’t- they only had 30 minutes not 1 hour+. but i did something i don’t normally do and i watched the credits and listened to the song at the end:

“I hope this letter finds you well. Thought this shit was over, but I didn’t hear no bell. Put my life in every sentence written like it’s jail. The summer’s done, but I got hella stories I could tell. The doctor telling me my flow is sick at every check-up. Rap is my profession cause I went viral on Meta. Whipped the GTR like I’m piloting a Mecca. They talk behind my back, but it’s okay I keep my head up. I don’t give it weight unless they tell it to my face. I’m flashy like I’m in the mob, but I don’t stay in place. I cannot be phased ‘Campe Diem’ everyday. The memories we making they stay with us to the grave. I’m just being honest, every moment has to cease. Oh, this opportunity, the money, rest in peace. I write all these songs because he believe in me, so when the Winter comes I’m gonna still release the heat. (Richie, I said a lot of goodbyes, I said a lot of ‘so longs’).” and then it cuts to someone turning on a lamp on their desk to reveal this

and then it fades out with nothing else

given the lyrics to the song and this ending bit, i don’t know who’s speaking or who’s desk we’re at- max’s or gwen’s. now for the song i think it could be both, i think it could be two different letters written to david- lines like “Put my life in every sentence written like it’s jail,” “Rap is my profession cause I went viral on Meta,” and “Oh, this opportunity, the money, rest in peace” screams that its gwen to me, but then there’s lines like “The summer’s done, but I got hella stories I could tell,” “They talk behind my back, but it’s okay I keep my head up. I don’t give it weight unless they tell it to my face,” “I’m flashy like I’m in the mob, but I don’t stay in place,” and “I write all these songs because he believe in me.” which lead me to believe it’s max speaking. (KEEP IN MIND I HAVE NEVER LISTENED TO THE CREDITS SONGS BEFORE SO FOR ALL I KNOW THEY COULD MEAN NOTHING) so, i think it’s david reading two letters, one from max and one from gwen. to me thats the most logical explanation. now for the desk, i think its max’s. its not david because the walls are blue while in the counselor’s cabin they’re wood. and, max is the one who took the picture. granted, maybe he gave the picture to gwen, but seeing as max wears a blue hoodie, that might be his favorite color so his walls are blue too. i think this is max reminiscing over camp. and i think that’s how the new season is gonna start, with max reminiscing at home.

honestly, i have no clue what the next season will be, this special was set up like it was a finale with all the kids going home. but im very excited! 

all in all, i really liked the special and i’m excited for new episodes in 2024! but the special didn’t have jasper in it so 0/10