#and maybe an area rug to add some separation

[yerimacoustic]

𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡ 𝙨𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙠𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

❝ 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞’𝙢 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙞 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

summary : after impulsively quitting your job and moving back to your hometown, you reconnect with a childhood friend of yours and rekindle your relationship. you even take the opportunity to get closer to your former crush upon realizing he actually does know you exist. however, you realize that you might be in over your own head when faced with complications involving family, responsibilities, and love.

content warnings : librarian!boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader, college professor!oh sehun x gender neutral reader, EXTREMELY slow burn, implied love triangle, childhood friends to (eventual) lovers, swearing, stress and angst, banter, very very brief mention of implied death, not proofread. 11.6k wc. mostly inspired by kdrama : love next door, it’s the ‘it’s always been you’ trope you guyssss

soundtrack : those eyes by new west, scott street by phoebe bridgers, ceilings by lizzy mcalpine, i hear a symphony by cody fry, the loneliest time by carlie rae jepsen, always been you by chris grey (will add more)

additional notes : this is going to be a multiple part series! i’m talking about EXTREMELY slow burn. don’t mind me adding sehun into the mix, i am a big fan of his lately.

it felt like nothing had changed. the pavement on the sidewalks was still loose, the grass near the empty fields was still much too tall.. everything was still so close. that was, of course, the main reason why you instructed your uber driver to drop you off at the coffee shop near your house. heaven knew you needed the extra ten minutes to clear your mind with the help of some fresh air, anyways.

you didn’t see yourself coming back home, not for a while at least. the plan had always been simple: graduate college, get a well-paying job, get married, start a family.. well, at least, your parents had always found it to be simple. you made it to step two, which you were able to give yourself at least some credit for.. unfortunately that was short lived, considering that one day at lunch with your boss, you made an impulsive decision to quit your job. 

you stopped in place at a familiar crack in the pavement, one that you remembered tripping over and promptly falling off your bike several times in your youth. how in the world were you supposed to face your mother and father? how were you supposed to summon the courage to tell them that you were currently unemployed and had no current plans for the future? that you were too burned out and exhausted to even begin looking for a new job?

maybe a nice cup of coffee would provide all the answers… except they were closed. shit.

the only thing left to do, obviously, was to procrastinate going home as much as possible. which, of course, meant exploring the street you knew like the back of your hand. the benches near the coffee shop looked exactly the same, the tiny post office, the library.. wait.

the library!

luckily, they stuck to the same schedule implemented from the time you were working there, which meant you had less than thirty minutes to step inside. as you swung the door open, the loud bell announced your arrival- not that it startled you. you’d grown numb to the loud clanging sound, almost as if you had been conditioned. once inside, you were greeted by the nostalgic smell of parchment and cinnamon, comfortable silence and dimmed lighting. there were two other patrons in there that you knew of, who were quietly huddled in the corner reading separate books. 

stepping up to the front desk, you looked around the calming, tranquil space with a content grin. much like everything else in town, the library had stayed exactly the same. there were still paintings of landscapes and skylines scattered along the walls, a fireplace in the back area, comfortable bean bags and rugs… and..

“seungkwan?” you whispered, your eyes going wide.

the young man in question was pushing a cart of books with his back towards you and had already begun to carefully set them down on the nearest shelf before he heard someone speaking behind him. the last person he expected to see standing behind his counter was you. as far as seungkwan knew, you had no plans of returning home. 

his eyes went wide as he turned back, lips forming a perfect ‘o’ shape. he did his best to keep his voice down as he saw you and stood frozen in place for a moment, dumbfounded. “y/n??”

you smiled sheepishly upon taking note of your childhood friend's reaction. it was truly one for the books, but you still couldn’t hold back from teasing him, whispering, “well are you just gonna stand there or…?”

“ugh, fine. get over here.” seungkwan let out a mocking huff of annoyance before carefully setting the last book down on the cart and rushing to you. he flung his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a tight hug, one that seemed to convey all the sentiments that had been lost to you for four years now. all of the tight hugs, the words of affirmation, the quality time spent after school and work.. 

he finally spoke up again, making no effort to keep his voice lowered down. “what are you doing here? how long are you in town?”

you chuckled awkwardly, waiting for just a moment longer to break out of his embrace. “um..indefinitely?”

seungkwan’s eyes narrowed. “whoa.. i didn’t think those big shots in the city would let you take an indefinite hiatus...”

“oh.. yeah, what can i say? they love me over there.” you mocked a hair flip for dramatic effect, earning a scoff from seungkwan. 

“well hopefully your work ethic’s better now than when you were working here with me.” he rolled his eyes while reminiscing several shifts gone wrong in your time together at the library. they still blew his mind several years later; how difficult could it be to work in a building full of books?

you furrowed your eyebrows. “what are you talking about? i was your favorite coworker.”

“nuh uh, you were my only coworker. big difference.” seungkwan waved a finger to you with a growing smirk, his eyes still narrowed. 

you swatted his shoulder. you would never admit out loud that you definitely were not the best employee, that you would rather spend the day reading or distracting seungkwan as much as you could than get any actual work done. still, you hoped that at the very least, seungkwan enjoyed his time with you. “come on. you know i made things more entertaining around here.” 

your best friend let out a prolonged sigh as he made a dramatic show of pulling off his striped apron and folding it over the front desk. “i guess.” he paused, rolling up the sleeves of his large sweater to his elbows before folding his arms. “have you been home yet?”

your heart skipped a beat at the sudden confrontation. “well.. not exactly. my plane just landed.”

“really? i’m surprised that your folks didn’t come pick you up from the airport..” he shook his head, a grin of amusement slowly starting to surface. seungkwan seemed to have been gifted with intuition after years of being your closest friend; judging by your body language, alone, he could tell that something wasn’t quite right.

“about that,” your tone suddenly grew hushed as you rubbed the back of your neck. “i didn’t exactly tell them i’m coming home.”

“hmm?” seungkwan furrowed his eyebrows. “why wouldn’t you tell them something like that?”

you parted your lips before the proper excuse could come to mind. but.. neither of their birthdays were coming up. it wasn’t a holiday. and you definitely had nothing exciting to share with them in person. you barely made a sound before the loud bell across the room announced someone else’s arrival. your heads snapped towards the doorway, your own eyes going wide at the revelation..

“hey sehun,” seungkwan greeted halfheartedly, as if it was customary for the other man to show up fifteen minutes before closing. he moved to stand behind the counter while you stayed frozen in place, watching the taller man make his way to the two of you. 

sehun was exactly how you remembered him too. tall, stoic, smartly dressed.. classically handsome. in the four years you’d been gone, you hadn’t forgotten about the infatuation you had developed with him in college. not completely, at least. he carried a large pile of books in his arms, which he set down carefully on the counter in front of him. “hey, thanks for helping me out. you’re a lifesaver.” 

“no problem.” seungkwan went to work immediately, starting to log the books sehun had borrowed into the ancient computer resting on the counter. he glanced to you before explaining, “sehun got that teaching degree. he comes in here every so often to borrow some extra books they don’t have on campus.”

just as you nodded in understanding, sehun looked over his shoulder to see you already staring at him. his eyes went wide as he wore a deeply apologetic expression, “oh! hey..y/n. it’s y/n, right?”

“yeah, yeah, that’s right,” you chuckled.

“it's good to see you,” he grinned modestly, turning his back on seungkwan in favor of facing you fully. “i haven’t seen you in a while, where have you been?”

“i relocated for work after graduating but..i’m back here now.” you punctuated your statement by shrugging halfheartedly, chuckling under your breath. to tell the truth, you were surprised sehun had even noticed you were missing; he never paid much attention to you in school. it wasn’t like you were nonexistent, but more like he always had something else on his mind. 

“indefinitely,” seungkwan chimed in, much to your annoyance. 

sehun raised an eyebrow. “indefinitely?”

you felt as if the two of them had backed you in a corner. it was difficult to ignore seungkwan as he leaned over the counter with his chin resting in the palm of his hand, an amused grin bringing you to clench your jaw. “well..”

“and she didn’t even tell her parents,” seungkwan whispered, as if the three of you were in a gossip session. he smirked to you, knowing fully well that you would have lunged for him if sehun wasn’t in the room. 

“i’m sure they’ll be excited to see you visiting them. indefinitely.” sehun, of course, was oblivious to seungkwan’s antics. he kept his back turned on him as he focused on you, waiting almost too patiently for you to explain your motives. 

just before you could mutter a ‘thank you’ to him, seungkwan cut you off once again, “by the way, when you say indefinitely, what exactly do you mean?”

in that moment, you crafted a plot in your mind to jump over the counter the minute sehun would close the door behind him. seungkwan had always known of your interest in sehun, so.. you could give him the benefit of the doubt and excuse his actions by saying he had good intentions. but there was something deep inside you nagging and arguing that he was only trying to embarrass you.

“well..” you muttered, prompting seungkwan to lean in comically close over the counter. unfortunately, whether you liked it or not, you came to the realization that your close friends and family would eventually find out the truth.. so it was better to bite the bullet. “forever?”

“forever??” seungkwan asked incredulously. 

in that moment you had completely abandoned all intentions of giving your best friend the benefit of the doubt and instead wondered if seungkwan truly would stop at nothing to humiliate you. the look of intrigue donned by sehun almost caused your heart to stop beating in your chest completely. “forever,” you repeated quietly.

and although sehun showed no signs of disgust or disapproval, you wondered what he truly thought of you. he must have thought so lowly of you, unemployed and forced to move back in with your parents with no prospects or plans of any sort... as much as you would have liked to tell yourself you were most likely overthinking the tension rising between the three of you, it was part of your nature to assume the worst.

sehun’s expression of intrigue was quickly replaced by one of reserved shock; he wasn’t sure how to respond. he wanted to handle the situation (if one could even call it a ‘situation’) with delicacy without seeming like he was tiptoeing around it. it was quite the contrast from seungkwan’s reaction; your best friend looked like he would soon pass out due to the color draining from his face. seungkwan, who was visible just behind sehun’s shoulder, slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his gasp. 

of course. he always had a flair for the dramatics.

sehun cleared his throat, as if to defuse the tension in the space between the three of you. the air had felt much more constricting until he snapped you out of your shame induced gaze. “thanks again, seungkwan. same time tomorrow?”

“maybe a few more minutes before closing.” seungkwan was quick to smile enthusiastically, with authenticity rather than cruel irony, towards the other man. he even went so far as to punctuate his statement with an amused chuckle. 

“right, sorry,” sehun nodded apologetically. he knew he had a bad habit of bothering seungkwan, who was generous enough to help him even in the most inconvenient times, but there was no use trying to adjust his schedule to his own liking. he looked to you just as he turned towards the exit, a smile barely reaching his eyes. “see you around.” 

somehow, you weren’t hyperfocused on the fact that he seemed to disappear before you could gift him a proper goodbye. once the loud bell signaled his absence, you reached across the front counter to swat at seungkwan’s shoulder. a high pitched shriek flew from his lips, but it didn’t startle you enough to back away from him. “what was that for?” he demanded with a pout.

“you know damn well! he probably thinks i’m some deadbeat now.” 

“why, because you got fired?” seungkwan regretted his teasing remark the second he saw you wind back your hand to swat his untouched shoulder, his hands flying to shield his face. “wait! wait, stop! truce! truce!” the sigh of relief he let out once you finally relented was almost comedic. “you didn’t get fired, did you?”

you folded your arms across the countertop with a huff, avoiding his eyes. although sehun’s opinion meant a lot to you, it was nothing compared to how seungkwan perceived you. you grew up with him, after all. “no. i quit.”

“why?”

“does it matter?” those three words came out in a much harsher, more defensive tone than you had anticipated. it was too late to apologize by the time you had processed the gravity of your words, or the effect they had on your best friend.

seungkwan matched your energy, his eyebrows raised as his tone grew just a tad harsher, as well. “well… yeah? you’re throwing a lot away. you know it’s really hard to get a job these days. you were really lucky.”

you huffed. “please, seungkwan, spare me. i’ve already been preparing for that lecture from my parents.” 

“well, what do you want me to say instead?” he snapped, folding his arms across his chest. those words stung in your chest, as if the blade had been laced with venom. out of all of the people you expected to be this harsh with you, the last person on your list was boo seungkwan.

you furrowed your eyebrows, sitting up and letting your arms fall from the counter in favor of relaxing at your sides. “nothing.” you paused before mustering up the courage to speak again, swallowing. “it was great to see you.”

you took long strides towards the door, ignoring seungkwan’s protests even as his voice grew nearer. only when you felt his hand grip onto your forearm did you finally turn back to face him, a deadpan expression dulling your features. quite the contrast from his look of pleading, sorrow filling his eyes. always the flair for the dramatics. “don’t go. please?” he paused, searching for an answer within your irises. “if i know anything about your parents, they’re gonna be pissed. we need a game plan.”

“‘we?’” you asked him quietly.

“yeah. we’re in this together.” he hooked his arm around yours, his words and the tight grip on your upper arm prompting a rush of nostalgia to numb your mind for the time being. 

“but first, we need to grab some dinner.” your eyes lit up, accentuating your smirk as you heard seungkwan groan next to you in annoyance. 

—----------------

“i hardly see how grabbing sandwiches is going to help the situation.” even so, seungkwan dipped his grilled cheese in the flavorful tomato soup in front of him, letting out a content sigh once the taste of basil and sourdough lingered in his mouth. 

“comfort food always helps keep one level headed in stressful situations. i thought you knew that,” you took a large bite from your own sandwich, as if the exaggerated actions would punctuate your words. 

of course, seungkwan knew you brought up a great point; he didn’t raise that argument when the two of you grabbed brunch before taking finals or when he ordered takeout while both of you spent the entire night applying for jobs. after all, the two of you shared a similar love of food for as long as you could remember. 

“yeah, but doesn’t it just feel like we’re prolonging the inevitable?” seungkwan’s words were slightly muffled as he chewed politely on his sandwich.

unfortunately, he brought up a great point, as well. that was the whole reason you found yourself in his family’s library in the first place: to prolong the inevitable. you swallowed nervously as an image of the disappointment on your mother’s face flashed in your mind, dabbing at the corners of your lips with a napkin. “no. i’m starving. i haven’t eaten since noon.”

seungkwan let out an audible sigh, which inevitably earned him an eye roll. “sure, we’ll go with that excuse.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you straightened out your shoulders. “excuse me, have you seen how my mom is when she gets angry?”

“of course i have. i was there when you cut the bangs off of all of her porcelain dolls because ‘you wanted to see their eyes.’” he dropped his spoon to add air quotes to the last part of his statement, much to his own amusement.  

your eyes grew nearly twice their size as you watched the man in front of you take a sip of his iced water with such infuriating casualness. “not only were you there, but you helped me cut their hair!”

“what? you don’t expect her to raise her voice at her best friend’s child, do you?” he feigned an expression of innocence, his eyes going wide as he pursed his pouty lips.

you huffed, “no. only because she’s always held you up on a pedestal. i swear, it’s like she’s always wanted to switch children with your mother.”

seungkwan laughed, a little too loudly for your liking. not that his laughs weren’t always adorable and endearing, of course. it was his next statement, however, that caught you off guard: “don’t say that.”

of course, the shock didn’t stop you from taking another jab at him. “no, really. you’ve heard her talk about how badly she wanted a son multiple times.”

seungkwan began to laugh again as more and more memories started coming back to him. your mother had always greatly esteemed him, held him to the highest regards.. to say that he didn’t appreciate those sentiments would be a lie. especially since there were plenty of occasions he could think of where he desperately needed the praise. his only wish was that she extended them towards her own child. “i’m sure that she would change her mind if her wish was ever granted,” he rationalized, still not quite eliminating the laughs escaping his lips.

you snickered. “yeah. i’m sure she would.” both of you sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, savoring the last few remnants of your respective meals. you, however, couldn’t stand listening to the daunting sound of your own heart racing in your chest and spoke up, “how are things going with the library?”

seungkwan wasn’t expecting you to bring up such a delicate subject of his own at a time like this. he knew that you were already under a great deal of stress and didn’t want to add another burden onto your shoulders. that was why he spoke so dismissively, “things are…fine. pretty busy.”

“just busy?” after you had successfully folded your napkin into something that vaguely resembled a swan, you lifted your head up with every intention to meet his gaze. only to look directly past his shoulder and draw in a shaky breath. “shit..”

“what??” seungkwan instantly demanded an answer and furrowed his eyebrows, watching you pull the hood of your jacket over your head and hunch your shoulders over. 

“look behind you. don’t make it obvious.” seungkwan muttered to himself before turning around in his seat to get a better look at your mother and another close friend of hers sitting across the restaurant, making no effort to be discreet. you immediately hissed in annoyance, “goddammit, i said don’t make it obvious!”

“geez, sorry.” seungkwan snapped his head back towards you, tilting his head to the side as he saw you duck under the table. suddenly, his eyes lit up as he leaned down to get a better look at you crouched down on the floor. “hey.. now seems as good a time as any to go and talk to her!”

you gasped, “are you kidding me? she’ll cause a huge scene! we better just make a run for it. i was never one to dine and dash but i guess there’s a first time for everything.”

seungkwan rolled his eyes and got to his feet, reaching for your hand. “come on, i’ll be right there beside you. who knows, she might actually take it well? she wouldn’t want to risk embarrassing herself in public, would she?”

“no, but she wouldn’t care about embarrassing me in public.” you refused to take his hand in favor of wrapping both arms around the leg of the table. “now lemme know when it’s a good time to crawl out of here.”

seungkwan laughed, thoroughly amused by your antics. “no. come on, its time to face your fears.” he crouched down again, hooking both hands around your arm. 

“seungkwan, no-” you tried to keep your voice down while keeping a firm grip on the table’s wobbly leg. 

seungkwan clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, a scolding expression overtaking his features as he shook his head. “i can’t believe you would risk getting arrested to avoid having an adult conversation with your mom. absolutely shameful. come on.”

you shuddered out of his touch, pouting. “but i’m not ready! please, can we just wait an hour or so until they’re done..”

suddenly, seungkwan threw his head back with a loud groan of annoyance and prompted you to put a finger to your lips. “no. there’s no time like the present, come on!” despite your relentless hold on the table, your persistent arguing and whines of annoyance, seungkwan fell to his knees in an effort to successfully pull you out from under the table. he felt like he was wrangling a stubborn toddler. “jesus, you were worried about your mom making a scene?”

just then, a voice behind seungkwan’s figure called to you, “y/n?”

seungkwan looked back before scooting away from you to give you a clear view of your mother standing with her arms folded. when he got to his feet, you moved out of the way just enough for you to see her close friend in question standing next to her. the two older women stood like a pair of identical twins with their arms folded and their heads cocked to the right. you waved to the two of them, suddenly feeling much more vulnerable under the table. “heyyy mom..”

just as you looked up, you got the opportunity to witness seungkwan realize the gravity of the situation in real time. his lips pressed to a thin line as he looked off to the side, making no attempts to alleviate any suspicious appearances or keep up any innocent appearances. much to your surprise, your mother paid no attention to the man she considered her perfect son in another life. she scoffed incredulously, “come here! what are you doing here?”

you brushed off your dress pants as you slowly began to emerge from your hiding place. “i wanted to catch up with seungkwan before heading home..”

your mother wasted no time shaking her head and cutting you off, “you know what i mean.”

you looked to seungkwan with desperation in your eyes, as if asking him speechlessly to do the talking for you. he’d always had a much better way with words than you did, especially whenever your mother was concerned. she always seemed to hear him out. however.. he stayed silent. his eyes went wide once they met yours, as if trying to communicate back to you without words.

you knew right then and there that you were on your own. 

“it’s kind of a long story..”

—----------

needless to say, your mother did not take the news very well, seeing that you were now lying in the fetal position on seungkwan’s bed, tugging his small blankets closer towards your shivering figure. none of it felt.. real. your mother yelling at you and chastising you in public, seungkwan trying desperately to intervene until his efforts proved to be fruitless, the four of you getting removed from the restaurant.. but what seemed to remain frozen in your mind was the look on your mother’s face.

there was so much to be said from the look in her eyes alone, irises filled with.. hatred. the mere thought of it made you shudder. 

the image of seungkwan stepping out of his tiny bathroom in an oversized t-shirt and shorts was enough to pull you out of your miserable thoughts. for the most part. “glad to see you made yourself at home,” he teased you and made his way to the bed, grabbing a spare blanket and pillow. 

you furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him tuck the bedding under your arm. “hey. you’re not sleeping on the floor.” 

“you’re right. i’m sleeping on the couch,” seungkwan replied without skipping a beat. he ran a hand through his chestnut hair, which was already tousled from the headband he’d worn just minutes before he joined you. “goodnight.”

“wait-” you called to him just as he turned on his heel in favor of walking towards the door. then you watched in amusement as he let out a huff of mock annoyance and turn to face you with raised eyebrows. “please.. please stay with me. i don’t want to be alone right now.”

sleepovers weren’t a foreign concept to you and seungkwan. there were countless nights where study sessions, late night chats, and carpooling after parties led to impromptu sleepovers. it reached the point where both of you had extra toothbrushes and other toiletries waiting for the other. you never seemed to stay far from each other, even in slumber; usually the two of you ended up on the couch together. 

it was nothing. neither of you thought anything of it, because you didn’t have to. yet.. there was a sense of timidity within his demeanor as he stepped closer to the bed. you were quick to shrug it off and sit up once he climbed under the covers with you, relaxing back against the mattress when you felt his arm drape around your shoulders. the two of you were so close that you felt the gentle impact of the rising and falling of his chest with every steady breath he took. “what are you gonna do?”

you were close to telling seungkwan that you hadn’t thought this far ahead. you always thought you could depend on your family to help you out during tough times.. but you’d had your heart broken that day. fear settled comfortably within your heart as you laid a hand on his chest and scooted closer to him. “i don’t know.”

you were expecting a fiery rebuttal from him. or some more scolding, even reprimanding.. but none of it came. instead he spoke gently, his voice barely above a whisper, “we’ll figure it out in the morning. get some sleep.”

you nodded and let your head fall more comfortably against the pillow before shutting your eyes, his arm curled around your figure and his hand cupping your shoulder bringing that much needed sense of comfort. seungkwan, however, stared at the ceiling as you felt yourself drifting off into a peaceful slumber next to him. he connected the dots in the plaster while trying not to pay any mind to the water stain near the corner of the room, the patterns providing him temporary relief. 

he felt like he was dreaming; when you left, he wasn’t sure if the two of you were ever going to be in a situation like this again. laying together, laughing, forgetting about the rest of the world.. sure, in this particular moment the circumstances were less than ideal, but he was just grateful to feel your warmth. now more than ever.

a half an hour must have passed before he gently pulled his arm out from underneath your figure and allowed you to fall more cozily against the mattress. he sat quietly at his desk, which was less than two steps away from his bed, and opened the drawer slowly in hopes that you wouldn’t hear the gentle creak. there was a letter tucked securely into an envelope, one that he had read so many times that it was a miracle the seal of tape was still effective. 

no matter how many times he had already read the letter, the beautiful words still brought a single tear to his eye and a gentle smile to his lips. it was the last thing his mother had ever given him besides the library, both of which he held close to his heart. he read it almost every night before he went to bed, swearing that he heard her voice in his head every single time. 

on a separate sheet, she’d left him instructions and tips for running the library. he still couldn’t fully believe that the family business was completely in his hands now. he put his own career on hold to see it through, devoting his entire time to ensuring the success of the library. he had no other employees. he was forced to move into a much cheaper apartment across the street, saving money on transportation.

yes, some days were better than others. but he wouldn’t trade the business for anything else in the world.

now that you were here with him, seungkwan felt so many different emotions hitting him all at once. while he was grateful to finally see you again, there was a nagging feeling akin to resentment in the back of his mind. he only hoped that he wouldn’t let the troubling emotion take over him completely.

you were already a shoo-in for the internship agency near your school. judging by the end of your interview, you basically already had a guaranteed position. it was near school, it paid fairly well, you could still go to school part time.. you had nothing to worry about, having all of your prospects lined into a neat row.

seungkwan, however, was not quite so fortunate. school was challenging for him; when one crisis was ending, another was just beginning. one particular event was the breaking point for him. his finger had been hovering over his laptop’s mouse for a good five minutes as he gazed at the highlighted button on the screen: ‘submit request to withdraw.’ maybe school wasn’t for everyone. maybe school wasn’t for him.

his fingertip had inched closer towards the mouse when you finally reached his side, slumping down on the chair next to him. before you could complain about a strenuous day in your psychology class, you took note of the image displayed on his laptop screen and immediately slammed it shut. “what do you think you’re doing??” you demanded. 

“i can’t take this anymore,” he groaned, tilting his head back. the hood of his jacket fell back upon his shoulders in the process, revealing his tousled hair. “i’m done. i’m dropping out.”

“no you’re not,” you argued without skipping a beat.

“yes i am.”

“no you’re not.”

seungkwan groaned again, covering his now strained eyes. he’d lost count of the hours he’d spent staring at the screen in front of him. “yes i am! it’s my only option. plus, if worse comes to worse, i’ll always have the library.”

your hand fell to rest on his back, silently communicating to him that you sympathized with him. you had had plenty of trials and tribulations during your time in school, seungkwan knew that fully well. “is this about your trig. test? seungkwan, no one passes that class. it’s not your fault you got stuck with the worst teacher.”

“it’s not just that.” he scooted his chair to the side so he could face you more fully. the look in his eyes was painfully unfamiliar; the closest resemblance being one that he’d worn a few times as a child. over some stupid, simple things that didn’t matter one bit anymore. this.. this was different. your best friend was scared to death about what lay ahead of him.

you took seungkwan’s hand in yours and squeezed it the moment you noticed his gentle tremble. “you’re one of the smartest people i know. if anyone can get through this, its you,” you told him quietly, with such gentle sincerity that warmed his heart. “i’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay? i’ll always be here for you.”  

i’ll always be here for you. 

what seungkwan didn’t know was that you replayed that moment in your mind every night before you went to bed. he didn’t know you were currently reminiscing in your sleep. guilt and regret overtook you every single time you thought about the relief flooding his features upon hearing such a beautiful sentiment from you: i’ll always be here for you. 

what a phony he must think you are.

—---------------------------

the aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the air of his small apartment, strong enough to pull you out of your deep sleep. the promise of the refreshing beverage prompted you to sit up and stretch your arms out before joining your brand new roommate in the kitchen. seungkwan was already seated near the bar, halfway through his toast when he smiled at the sight of you, “morning, sleeping beauty.”

you let out a chuckle that resembled more of a scoff before taking the initiative and pouring yourself a cup of coffee. “i would have slept a lot better if someone didn’t hog all the blankets.”

“tsk tsk,” seungkwan shook his head while dabbing at the corners of his lips with a napkin. less than five seconds passed before he was on his feet, carrying his own mug in one hand and reaching for his briefcase with the other. “well, i’m off. do me a favor and clean the kitchen, will you?”

you furrowed your eyebrows while watching him search the tiny sitting room (which was more like a nook) for his dress shoes. “hey, wait! where are you going?”

he snickered, “where do you think? i’m going to work.” 

“can i come with you?”

seungkwan stared at you incredulously. “why would you want to do that?”

you cocked your head to the side, confused. wasn’t the answer perfectly obvious? “because if i spend nine hours cooped up in here by myself, i’ll go crazy. no offense.”

he brushed off your statement, grabbing his keys off the tiny hook near the front door. “what makes you think you won’t go crazy cooped up in the library for nine hours?”

you paused and shrugged your shoulders as a pleading look filled your eyes. “i’ll.. be with you? and books?” 

once again, seungkwan had to wrestle with all of the emotions hitting him at once- he’d enjoyed this time with you, yes, but.. a small part of him wanted space. he wanted time alone to sort through his conflicted feelings. no words could describe the guilt that sentiment, alone, had brought upon him. still, he let out an exaggerated huff and tilted his head back, “ughh fine. hurry and get ready.”

the squeal that escaped your lips nearly caused seungkwan to jump enough to spill his coffee. much to his own relief, the hot liquid never escaped from his cup and fled towards his sweater. it was a close call, however, when you threw your arms around his neck and pressed a firm kiss against his cheek. that time a few drops did spill on the floor, prompting the two of you to giggle in almost frightening unison before seungkwan made a dramatic show of pretending to rub the kiss off of his cheek. “ew-ew-ew-ew-”

“shut up,” you called out to him before shutting his bedroom door behind you. it didn’t take too long for you to find a sensible outfit, seeing that such boring outfits had taken over your entire wardrobe since you graduated. 

before too long, the two of you were greeted by the crisp autumn air as seungkwan locked his door. you both held onto your mugs, chasing the warmth of the coffee as you took prolonged sips in unison. in that moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if seungkwan shared the same sentiment as you, if he thought about how taking the familiar road to work felt so strangely different this time around.

“why don’t you hire some other employees?” you asked seungkwan once the two of you sat comfortably in the warmth of the quiet library.

“what, are you tired of your new job already?” seungkwan teased, tilting his head with that all too familiar lopsided grin. 

“job? who said anything about a job?” you fired back, all in good fun, of course. you had no issues helping seungkwan out with the business, if he would have you. you could only imagine how much of a nightmare it was to run a business completely alone. besides.. you hated the thought of sleeping at his apartment all day while he worked his ass off.

he nodded his head once, his grin only growing wider. “ohh, i see what’s going on here. shame, i expected more from you.”

“you’ll have to get in line,” you chuckled before averting your gaze back to the sticky note on the front desk in front of you. you’d been drawing tiny flowers on the little slip of paper for about an hour now, hoping to pass the time quickly. soon, you spoke up again without looking up from the lime green pad of paper, “you didn’t answer my question, though.”

you noticed seungkwan shrug in your peripheral vision. “can’t really afford it.”

he watched as you nodded in understanding, eyes still not leaving the sticky note in front of you. “well.. you could always ask for volunteers. there’s a lot of different ways to get the word out.”

seungkwan chuckled dismissively, “i doubt anyone’s gonna want to volunteer at the local library.” he spun in his chair slowly to gaze at one side of the open space in front of him and then the other. the first day he had ever worked there by himself he realized that he had to come to terms with the harsh reality that no one would value this place quite like he did. 

you caught onto it, however, and it broke your heart to put yourself in his shoes. he’d barely jump started his own career before this was thrown onto his lap; to say it was a lot of pressure was the understatement of the year. “you never know,” you countered in a hushed tone. 

several minutes passed before the loud bell startled you out of your boredom. just before you could lecture seungkwan about investing in a battery operated one, sehun stood on the other side of the desk. your focus shifted completely to the man standing in front of you, both of you separated only by the smooth oak desk. 

“hey sehun,” a short greeting you were barely able to muster as you rose to your feet.  

sehun, of course, stayed cordial, his grin just notably wider than the last he’d greeted you with. “hey. i didn’t realize you’d be working here too.” 

“oh.. yeah. seungkwan and i go way back, i thought i could help him out a bit.” you tilted your head towards the other man in question, who was still seated comfortably in the chestnut leather chair. strange.. he was usually so quick to attend to his customers’ needs.

“why don’t you help sehun grab his books? get some practice in?” you didn’t have to look over at seungkwan to know that insufferable smirk had taken over his lips. 

“uh.. yeah, sure. i can do my best.” the promise of getting some alone time with your former ‘campus crush’ was almost enough to make you giggle like you were in college all over again. you were quick to abandon seungkwan in favor of joining the taller man as he strode towards the aisle directly across from where your friend was sitting. “so..classic literature, huh?”

sehun chuckled fondly at your attempt to make conversation, prompting that warming sensation in your chest to return. “yeah. i don’t know if seungkwan told you, but i’m teaching ‘reading comprehension’ on campus. the library over there seems to have lost most of its funding since we graduated. he’s helped out a lot.”

you nodded and began to pull the books off the shelves that he pointed to with his free hand. “‘reading comprehension?’ i loved that class.”

“oh you did? it was one of my favorites. with mrs-”

“sylvester,” you finished politely.

“sylvester, yeah,” sehun chuckled again, and it was the most that you’d ever seen him smile. although it was somewhat short lived, it didn’t disappear completely from view. “she transferred a few years back. that was when i got the promotion.”

“oh.” an expression of disappointment clouded your features as he led you into the next aisle. you tried not to think about how you wished you’d brought one of those carts, considering it was completely off topic.. “that’s too bad. i don’t think i’ve ever had a teacher like her.”

sehun sighed, tucking a small pile of books under his other arm. “i don’t think anyone has. she left some pretty big boots to fill.”

“i’m sure you’re more than capable,” you assured him with a tilt of your head. “you were the one with the best assignments in ‘creative writing.’”

sehun donned an expression mixed with shock and confusion. for a moment you wondered if it was because he had no memory of sharing a creative writing class with you. had you really managed to stay so invisible? his gaze left you on the edge of your seat until he finally spoke, his words throwing you through another loop, “i.. didn’t think anyone remembered those. in fact, i hoped no one did.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, showcasing your genuine confusion. “why? your writing was so beautiful.”

he let out a short chuckle in favor of accepting your compliment. “i prefer to leave it to the professionals.” so he was handsome and he was humble.. good to know. his next statement pulled you out of your temporary daze, “speaking of which-” his gaze briefly shifted to the stack of books in both hands. “i better get back to it.”

“oh, yeah. yeah. sure.” however, you couldn’t bring yourself to face seungkwan without taking a step in a much bolder direction. “maybe we could talk about them sometime.” your heart skipped a beat as you watched him turn back to get a proper look at you once more. “i mean..the professionals. we could grab coffee sometime, talk about our favorites.”

he stayed quiet for a moment, as if he was thinking carefully over your question. once again, he seemed intent on keeping you on the edge of your seat, on stopping your heart from beating in your chest. relief warmed your heart as a gentle, barely visible smile was sent in your direction. “yeah. i’d like that a lot.”

even though the words were on the tip of your tongue, you couldn’t bring yourself to mutter a confirmation or any other proper response. planning the logistics or even a proper meeting time and place would have been a good start. even so, bashful silence filled the air and sehun was graced with an equally awkward grin before the two of you met with seungkwan again to carry out the rest of the checking process.

the crisp autumn air did nothing to soothe your shaking hands and arms as you and sehun carried the borrowed books to his car. he kept a respectful distance the entirety of the short walk to the end of the parking lot, not enough to keep you wondering if he found your presence to be a nuisance, of course. you earned yourself a smile of gratitude once the entirety of his collection was placed carefully in his backseat, his words doing nothing to soothe the aching in your heart: “so, about that coffee…”

“i should be done around five,” you cut him off, regretting it immediately. suddenly, one of your mother’s habitual lectures had once again proved fruitless and you realized just how pathetically eager you must have sounded. 

much to your relief, sehun nodded to signal his confirmation. “five sounds great. i’ll just meet you over there, yeah?” your gaze followed his hand as he pointed to the coffee shop that was no more than a ten minute walk from your current location.

luckily, you were able to hold back a sigh of relief. “yeah.” you paused, taking the opportunity to mirror his smile as your hands linked together behind your back. “well..see you then.”

after you were sent on your way with a quiet ‘goodbye,’ you were lucky not to trip over your own feet as you turned on your heel. to tell the truth, you only felt like you had come back down to earth once you were face to face with seungkwan in the warmth of the library again. his smirk was infuriating, as per usual, as he confirmed that he’d listened to your entire exchange, “big date tonight, huh?”

scolding him was a redundant move. instead, you followed his remark with a smirk of your own, arms folding across your chest while you eagerly awaited for the storm to come. “yeah.. about that, i’m gonna need to head out early.”

—-----------------------------

there was nothing quite like the cafe you knew like the back of your head in the evening. just as the sun began to set, the limited light peeked through the windows, crafting with the low fi hip hop in the speakers to create the perfect ambience. there was a sense of comfort in the familiarity, which counted for everything in this moment, especially. 

although the shaking in your hands had come to a timid stop, there was still an uncomfortable persistent thumping in your heart. if y/n from years ago could only see you now.. as inexperienced as you had become over the last four years, it didn’t stop a fair pang of excitement from mixing with your overall anxiety. you were on a date.. well, if that was the right word to describe this meeting with sehun. 

the man in question pulled you out of your daze once he sat across from you, taking in the sight of you with a relaxed grin. “sorry, i know i’m a bit late.”

“no, it’s fine. i barely even noticed,” you replied truthfully. “i’m in my own little word over here, i was barely keeping track of time.”

“well, that makes me feel a little bit better,” a deep chuckle punctuated his gentle words before he turned his attention towards the small menu in front of him. you did the same, even if it was a bit of a formality; you had known fully well what you were going to order before setting foot in the cafe. it simply kept you busy while trying to formulate a good response. 

once the orders had been placed, your arms were folded over the small table as you paid full attention to the man in front of you. “so..should we start with poetry?”

“actually,” sehun responded without a sense of urgency to interrupt you in his tone. it was quite the contrast from what you had grown accustomed to. “i thought i might get to know you first, if that’s alright.”

you raised an eyebrow, his statement catching you off guard. “oh?”

“is that so surprising?” sehun noticed the surprise that had filled your demeanor and honestly, it made him feel guilty. maybe he had unintentionally sent you messages signaling his disinterest during your time together in college.

“yeah- i mean-” you stuttered, pondering your own response carefully in the meantime. “well, i think we both just had a lot on our mind back then.” 

he nodded in understanding. “you’re probably right. but i don’t want you to think i was ever uninterested.” he paused just as a barista briefly interrupted the two of you to place two mugs on the table, being quick to send a quiet ‘thank you’ in his direction. 

you thought about telling him the truth, that the fear of his disinterest in you kept you up at night. that your social anxiety prevented you from getting to know anyone or spending time outside of your social circle. but what good would complaining do? instead, you nodded shortly. “then in that case.. i’d like to get to know you, too.”

you watched as sehun took the brief moment before his lips reached the mug in front of him to send you a smile. seconds later, he was delicately wiping a light stripe of foam that had landed above his upper lip. “can i start by asking you something a little personal?”

“go right ahead. i’m an open book.”

he set his porcelain mug down carefully on the table, the impact making no sound. “what brings you back in town?”

once again, his question had brought you into a deep sense of pondering. although you hardly expected him to take the same direction as your mother and tell you how much of a lazy couch potato you were, there was still a possibility he would find your actions distasteful. “things.. weren’t working out there,” was all you could lead with. “i wasn’t happy.”

sehun wasn’t sure if asking you to delve into specifics was the best idea. “i’m sorry to hear that,” he said, the sympathy in his tone practically tangible. 

“that’s okay.” as always, you were quick to dismiss your own attitude; you were never the self-pitying type. 

“i’m glad that you were able to reconnect with seungkwan after so long,” he noticed. “you two have been thick as thieves for as long as i can remember.”

to tell the truth, you were surprised that sehun had even noticed. on the other hand, the two of you never seemed to let each other out of your sight for long. “i owe seungkwan a lot,” you sighed. “he’ll try to deny it but i don’t know if i would have been able to get through school without him.”

sehun beamed, his understanding of the sentimentality in your statement alone bringing a warm feeling to his chest. “you two are lucky to have each other.”

suddenly, you felt guilty discussing another man in such a manner while on a date (if it even was a date). you chimed in with a bashful grin, eager to change the subject, “tell me more about your job.”

sehun chuckled, “what do you want to know?”

“was mrs. sylvester the only reason you started teaching?” while eagerly awaiting a response, you savored the wonderfully bitter taste of your now slightly chilled latte.

sehun shook his head, gaze temporarily flicking to the modest silverware resting on his napkin. “no. everyone around me got tired of hearing me talking incessantly about my favorite scribes and poets, so i thought it would be better to lecture people who would actually listen to me. for the most part.” 

an amused beam lit up your features as you chuckled affectionately. “do you teach anything else besides ‘reading comprehension?’”

he gently shook his head, “as of right now, no. but i’m aiming to take over the literature and mythology position once it’s cleared up.”

“then i’ll keep my fingers crossed,” you told him, your beam ever persistent. 

“i appreciate it,” he looked up to see you already staring at him with reservation in your features. suddenly, he came to the realization that he had never realized how vibrant your eyes were up close. maybe he should have paid more attention in the past. he spoke up again before he could allow any awkward silence to loom over your table, “i’m keeping my fingers crossed for you as well. i hope you find what you’re looking for.”

just as you nodded in gratitude, you came to the realization that you had no idea what you were looking for. you came back home with desperation to get time for yourself, hope that you would find comfort in the nostalgia your hometown provided.. but you never thought about how slowly the answers to your questions would reveal themselves. “i hope so too,” was all you could think of to say.

much to your surprise, sehun was easy to make conversation with. he was respectful and quiet, not to mention attentive as he listened to you drone on and on about your favorite writings. you thoroughly enjoyed the banter you shared with him, as if the two of you were playing tennis with witty remark after witty remark. 

you had to take note of how incredibly smart he was. he was well read in every sense of the word, judging by the countless subjects of literature he’d studied in his youth. it was impressive. not to mention attractive. 

both of you reached the bottom of your mugs at the same time, and before too long, sehun had already paid the bill. he ignored your protests, your arguments that you should have been the one to pay since the outing was your idea. and of course, he politely insisted on driving you back to seungkwan’s apartment even if it was within walking distance. 

the moment you sat in his passenger seat, your gaze shifted to his hands circled gently around the steering wheel. the sleeves of his sweater had been rolled up to his elbows, exposing his lean forearms. however it was nothing compared to his side profile, the dimmed sunset lighting accentuating the sharpness of his jawline. “i’m glad we did this,” you were able to tell him. 

he nodded once, “me too. hope i didn’t take you away from seungkwan for too long.”

“he’ll be fine. he’s managed without me long enough,” you chuckled once he parked the car in the complex’s lot. before you could bring yourself to exit his car, to rid yourself of the man’s warm presence, you gifted him with a smile of gratitude. “i’m glad we did this.”

“me too,” sehun agreed, returning the grin with sincerity. “will you be at the library again tomorrow?”

“most likely,” you chuckled.

“perfect.” he watched as you stepped out of his car, ignoring the cold air hitting his skin once more. he called to you one last time before you could gently slam the door shut, “see you tomorrow.”  

you called out to him in farewell just as the impact of the car door closing sounded. the butterflies took flight in your stomach just as you watched him drive off, permitting yourself one last look at him through the slightly tinted window. none of it felt real. you knew that for the foreseeable future, you were about to ask yourself over and over again if these memories were just a figment of your imagination. the way he looked much more handsome up close, the way you were able to study his freckles and the gentle curls in his hair..

a wind rushing past your figure snapped you out of your daydreams; soon you were walking up the rickety staircase and back into seungkwan’s apartment. he was waiting in the sitting room, peering down at the coffee table which was covered in heavy files and scattered sheets of paper. he looked up to you through thin-framed glasses, raising his eyebrows, “took you long enough to get back home.”

your brows pulled together instinctively as you tossed your jacket onto the nearest coat hook. “what are you talking about? i wasn’t even gone for that long.”

“you were gone long enough to force me to close the library all by myself,” he argued without a hint of malice in his tone. “what did the two of you get up to, anyways?”

“coffee,” you sighed, slumping down next to him on the loveseat. suddenly, seungkwan paid absolutely no mind to the endless paperwork he had been tasked with and turned towards you. you went on, “we talked for a few hours.”

he tilted his head towards you with wide, questioning eyes, “aaand?”

“aand-” you mocked, snickering. “he’s.. excellent. really excellent.”

seungkwan stared at you in bewilderment as a snicker of his own escaped his lips. “‘really excellent?’ that’s the best you can do?”

you rolled your eyes, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. “i mean- i don’t know! he’s really smart. most of the time we were talking about the books and authors we both liked.” you paused, pondering your next response. “there’s something about him that is so..magnetizing. he’s so reserved..i always thought he was indifferent. but he’s not.”

“he sounds like a pretty great person,” seungkwan bowed his head in favor of taking another proper look at the piling documents in front of him. even if he knew there was absolutely no way he would focus properly on them with you seated next to him. his gaze didn’t leave a particular folder as he asked, “so it’s off to bed for you, then?”

you pressed a hand to your heart, feigning offense. “you would dismiss me so quickly?” after seungkwan merely hummed in response, you sighed, “no, actually. i probably shouldn’t have drank coffee this late.”

“if only someone had cautioned you against it,” seungkwan mused half-heartedly, flipping through a stack of papers after going through a few paragraphs with a highlighter. it was amazing just how quickly boredom set in after watching him flip through them for less than a minute.

“you could have,” you snickered and leaned your head against the back of the couch, staring at the patterns in the ceiling for the brief time in the uncomfortable position. “we should go on a walk. i think you could use some fresh air.”

an amused smirk tugged at your lips as you watched seungkwan let the papers fall on his lap in favor of staring at you incredulously. “what? no, it’s freezing out there.”

“it’s not that bad, we’ll only be out there for a second.” after grabbing the papers from his lap and slamming the pile back on the coffee table, you rose to your feet. “come on! i know what it’s like working indoors all the time. you need to go outside; it’s good for your health. and your psyche.”

seungkwan huffed, swatting your hand away when you tried to link arms with him. “you know what’s also good for my psyche? paying rent for two different buildings on time.”

ever persistent, you reached for his hand again. “these papers will all still be here when we get back. come on. take some time for yourself.”

he was finding it more difficult to resist your pleadings by the second, especially considering you brought up excellent points. he rarely got the chance to take time for himself.. he rarely got to enjoy his surroundings and reconnect with the town he grew up in. he sighed, rather heavily at that, bringing his palm to his forehead. “ughhhh fine. if i get frostbite, i’m killing you.”

“it’s definitely not cold enough for that.” you grabbed both of his hands to pull him off of the couch, beaming once the two of you were face to face. then you gently reached out to grab his glasses off, folding them before setting them down carefully on the table. your fingertips never came in contact with the lenses; you knew completely well how much seungkwan hated scuffs and marks on his glasses. “when did you become such a hermit?”

seungkwan’s gaze followed your hands as they fell to the coffee table just before he met your eyes again. he chuckled lowly, “a lot has changed since you left.”

you shook your head. “it doesn’t seem like it. you’re still just as annoying as you were the day i left.”

“takes one to know one.” much to your annoyance, seungkwan promptly moved his hand up to ruffle your hair, his nose scrunching up in an infuriatingly endearing way. he took note of your scowl, snickering loudly in amusement as he quickly turned on his heel before you could swat his shoulder, “come along then! you were the one who was begging to go on a walk.”  

you followed after him with a huff, both of you slipping into your large coats and boots in alarming unison. before too long, you were asking yourself how it was possible for the weather to drop so significantly and so quickly. regardless, the two of you walked down the street shoulder to shoulder, each heavy breath you took visible in a cloud of smoke.

seungkwan glanced at you in his peripheral vision once you’d linked arms with him, snickering, “is this what you wanted?”

“yes,” you replied curtly. you tried to ignore the soreness in your back caused by the hunching of your shoulders. in your defense, cold weather ruined your posture. with your free hand, you tugged your jacket closer to your chest in desperation. it wasn’t even winter yet, why was it so freezing?

“okay,” seungkwan mused, unconvinced. he let out a quiet huff of his own before scooting closer to you and keeping both hands in his pockets. “where are you taking me, anyways?”

“don’t sound too enthusiastic,” you replied. unfortunately, you hadn’t thought this far ahead. while you scoped out the area in hopes of finding a place to relax and forget about the rest of the world, you completely forgot about the loose crack in the pavement and tripped over your own feet. your hold on seungkwan’s arms loosened as you fell forward a few steps, causing your best friend to burst into a fit of laughter.

“phew! that never gets old,” he cackled, throwing his head back as he moved a hand to clutch at his chest.

you were less than amused, stepping forward to grab his forearms in hopes of grounding yourself. “you’re the worst, seungkwan.”

“you know you love me.” it was a miracle that seunkgwan was able to get the words out, considering the laughs that persistently fell from his lips. it was a deep fit of laughter too, one that rumbled from his chest and had his shoulders hunched over as he tried in desperation to catch his breath.

“oh my god. was it really that funny?” you asked incredulously. your lips twitched in order to hold back an amused smile; it wasn’t the situation in and of itself that you found humorous, only seungkwan’s reaction. his endearing laugh and beam, the redness in his cheeks, the light in his eyes..

once he had composed himself enough to stand up straight, he let a few more faint chuckles escape from his lips as he wiped his eyes. “uh, man. i guess it's because i haven’t seen you do it in a long time. i forgot how stupid you looked.”

your eyes went wide as you linked arms with him again, scoffing. “how could you laugh at such a delicate subject for me?” you teased. “i still have the scars to prove it.

“besides, you have no room to talk. you’re the one who couldn’t make it halfway through the monkey bars.”

seungkwan stopped dead in his tracks, prompting you to do the same. you couldn’t hold back a loud snicker once you took in the deadpanned expression he wore, signaling that he took offense. “come on. that’s a completely different issue.”

your hold on his arm loosened once again as you burst into a loud fit of laughter, shaking your head. “no it isn’t! you looked like an idiot hanging there lifeless on the rails.”

as your laughter only grew louder, seungkwan did everything he could to keep a level head. He kept his chin up, taking a step forward with his eyes narrowed. “whatever. i’ve come a long way since then.”

“oh yeah?” you challenged him. “prove it.”

seungkwan stopped in his track once again in favor of turning towards you with furrowed eyebrows. “what are you talking about?”

you paused, scoping out your surroundings as you cupped your chin with your thumb and index finger. pretending to be deep in thought, of course. you spun in a slow circle until your eyes landed on the desired target: the nearest playground. it was completely empty, perfect for seungkwan to showcase his so called newfound talents. 

without answering, you grabbed onto seungkwan’s forearm and forced his hand out of his jacket pocket. once your fingers were laced with his, you booked it towards the playground in question. seungkwan stumbled a little bit but followed your lead, laughing in disbelief, “hey, would you slow down for a second? god-”

once the familiar, run down monkey bar stand came into view, you came to a sudden and full stop. seungkwan nearly tripped over his own feet again, much to your amusement, but you were quick to brush it off and fall to the ground in a cross-legged position. “go on,” you encouraged him, gesturing dramatically towards the stand with a malicious grin.

he cocked his head to the side as he studied you with an amused smirk. you only responded with a raised eyebrow, the two of you silently communicating, waiting for the other to crack. much to your relief, it was seungkwan who finally broke the silence with a loud groan of annoyance, “fine. whatever makes you feel better.”

you clapped your hands in excitement and watched him walk pitifully towards the monkey bars. he ignored your cheers of encouragement as he climbed up the small ladder and reached both hands out to grip on the first rail, falling forward instantly. but much to your surprise, he kept his grip firm. “seung-kwan, seung-kwan, seung-kwan,” you chanted rhythmically, clapping your hands between each loud cheer. 

it felt like he made it to the middle of the stand in the blink of an eye. he took a moment to glance over at you with a prideful smirk once he’d reached his former stopping point. “ha! see?” he called out to you.

“you haven’t finished anything yet, go on!” you ignored the crisp, chilling winds that grew more intense by the second, focusing all of your intention on seungkwan instead. you could still see the faint cloud of vapor escaping his lips with every breath he took and you had to hand it to him- the fact that he was able to do this with such determination and focus was impressive. “go on, you’re so so close!”

suddenly, you began to wonder if he’d started working out more consistently since the two of you parted ways. he only paused for a second or two between movements, save the long-ish break in the middle to gloat. he kept his knees bent the entire time too, so his feet wouldn’t touch the ground and assist him in his endeavors. towards the end he began to huff louder, unwilling to showcase his growing tiredness. 

you, however, never got tired of encouraging him. “you got this! just a little further…there you go…” just then, your loud cheer nearly startled seungkwan enough to let go of the bars to fall to the ground rather than swing his feet towards the other ladder. 

after making sure you were able to clearly witness him roll his eyes, he climbed down and plopped down on the ground next to you with a loud sigh. “satisfied?” he asked, letting his back fall against the long brown grass.

“more than satisfied.” you smirked in his direction before mirroring his lying position with a sigh of content. your hands laid comfortably on your stomach as the two of you stared up at the stars in comfortable silence. “i’ve missed this,” you muttered without thinking. 

seungkwan paused, contemplating the gravity of those three words. he didn’t know how to tell you that he never knew true loneliness until you left town. that there was a pang of resentment towards you because of it, one that couldn’t be so easily disposed of. even once the relief that came with the knowledge that you were there to stay set over him. “me too,” he whispered. “me too.”  

you smiled upon hearing his agreement, and the two of you lay in comfortable silence once again. you studied the sky for any familiar constellations, the stars shining like diamonds that night in particular. maybe it was something within the sentimentality of the night with seungkwan and sehun that brought so much more beauty to the sky above. or maybe.. it was because it had been forever since you took a moment to simply look up.

-

stay tuned for part two, coming soon >:)

[aeridanus]

Anonym hat gefragt:

that map you made is stunning! do you have any tips/programs on how to properly make one? i really love looking at these but i never know how to make them myself

Hello there, happy to help! :)

So if you’re interested in making a map, you have several ways of doing that. Ask yourself some questions first:

What is the purpose of the map? Do you want/need a scientific representation of a region or planet (example: Satellite map of the Earth), or is it a highly stylized storytelling tool (example: Map of Middle Earth)? Something in between? Think about what you want to communicate with your map and decide on its setup. As you asked about the map I uploaded, I’ll talk about my approach to satellite/physical maps :)

My personal approach to those maps is pretty scientific because I like hard worldbuilding with a lot of logical thought behind it. The satellite map from yesterday functions both as a physical map for the setup of the planet, but it’s also a base for other maps. For example, the climate chart I worked out uses the physical map as its foundation.

There are some pitfalls when it comes to map projections because we’re dealing with the problem of unwrapping a 3D globe onto a flat, 2D surface. With the standard maps we’re seeing today, areas closer to the poles get increasingly distorted. Just look at how huge Greenland appears on world maps - in real life, it’s pretty small. This is important to consider and I didn’t catch my own mistake until yesterday. If you want to be 100% sure, the best way to do it is to use a 3D program and paint your map directly onto the globe. Unwrapping the texture later gives you the correct distortions. If this is a concern for you, I’m happy to elaborate more, but I’ll stick to the visual side for now :) It’s all done in Photoshop, nothing else required. Screenshots are in German, but I added explanations.

The start of it all is a rough sketch of land and sea areas. It doesn’t need to be perfect or final at this point, just draw shapes you like. You can also add a bit of thought to it - maybe a landmass broke in several parts not too long ago and you still see the puzzle-piece shapes, but that’s another story entirely :) If it’s just about making a nice-looking map, go with what pleases you.

For surface details, I used satellite images and photobashed them onto my surfaces. I had worked out plate tectonics to have an explanation for the location of mountains and plains, but that’s also another story. If you want a mountain range somewhere just because, then put it there :) Collect aerial images which fit what you have in mind. Leave vegetation out for now, it’s just about highs and lows.

Then, roughly lay them over your landmass. I recommend keeping the landmasses on their own layer, separate from the sea, because you can “clip” the satellite image to the landmass layer by hovering your cursor between the layers and pressing alt:

Do this with plains and mountains (no vegation just yet), mix and match and blend until you get a setup you like. Also take a look at satellite images of coastlines so you can use them as a reference for your own. Give your landmass layer a mask on which you can draw to refine your coastline. To add a mask to your layer, select it and then press the button which has a rectangle with a circle on it. Drawing with black subtracts from your image, drawing with white adds to your image. You don’t destroy your base layer by using masks, and if you want to deactivate or delete that mask, right-click it for its context menu.

So now we landed on something similar to this. If you’re having trouble with coastlines, also search for aerial images and use them as references for your own. Where are flat beaches, rugged coastlines, fjords, islands? You can go with science (example: Fjords are valleys of former glaciers, so they’re unlikely to form in warm climates. Rugged coasts in warm areas probably have a different origin) or just do your thing.

I added the seafloor, basically the borders of continental plates, and a soft edge glow to the continents to simulate shallow water around them.

Now, placing vegetation can be a nightmare or ridiculously easy. For a first pass which you can modify later on by using layer masks again, do the following: Duplicate your landmass layer and switch off the layer style if you have one. Now, go to Image > Corrections > Replace color. Use the picker to select a color you want to replace with green. In my case here, I want to have vegetation closer to the mountains, so I pick a slightly darkened brown from my map.

It’s time for the magic :) Now use the three sliders at the bottom of the window to change the picked color to your target color, green in my example. Ho-lee sheeet! :D Use the tolerance slider at the top to narrow or widen the picker’s range, and just go with what you like.

Now you can play around with your vegetation layer as you wish. Add or substract from your layer and/or overlay it with some color variance. Do a second vegetation layer and pick a different color base, maybe the lighter deserts or the darker mountains. Set a different tolerance and color to it... and that’s basically it! Play around with those methods and have fun making maps! :)

[samkat10423]

Veronaville - part 2

This next lot, that was created by danjaley, is called the Folio Library.

I didn't really do anything to the outside, but I did make some changes inside.

The biggest one was to this room. When you open the lot, it's an empty space. I decided to make it into a computer room. Mostly because 1) I hate wasted space and 2) I never give my sims any skill items - apart from a basic bookcase - until they have earned at least 5 skill points. Which means my writer sims need someplace to go to get those skills - and to write the Great Sim novel.

The rest of the 2nd floor has 2 game rooms - one for chess and the other for that 4-sim game (I forget what it's called). And 2 reading rooms.

On the ground level I made some more changes. I made a kid room for the littles and added Arsil's generic role desk in the main lobby, so that I can assign a proper librarian to the lot. I'll probably go back into this lot and redo the bathroom she made. Maybe make it into 2 separate ones. And add more chairs to that 2nd reading room upstairs. Looking at pictures give you some perspective, and helps you see what you could do better.

In the 2 seating areas here, I changed the curtains to some that are remakes of Sims 2 ones, added rugs and lighting, and a few extra chairs and that was it.

Next door, I bulldozed the lot that was there and used the Wright Reading Room remake by my friend Tedhi. Since I already have a really nice library, I converted her build into my new business rabbithole. I had planned on using the one from Monte Vista - Simcatti Industries - but it was too big for the space. Anyway, I like this one better.

I made the basement of her build my new news agency. Basically all I had to do was delete a bunch of bookcases.

The upstairs level is my business office area. I still have more work to do on this lot, but it's also where I placed the rabbithole rug. (Her's was the building in a basement). Again, I basically just deleted all the bookcases.

And this was danjaley's city hall build. I did make a few minor changes to the parking areas and added the podium at the top of the stairs so my wind-bag politicians can lie to their supporters, but basically, it's the way she built it.

[exoticalmonde]

Arknights Chapter XIII - The Whirlpool That Is Passion (Part II)

ACTUALLY, BEFORE I FORGET, I heard that the friend count will rise to 100, so that means that anybody who needs an Ebenholz/Hoederer and doesn't require them to be max pot... can add me, so we can work together to cry a little less with each passing event.

WARNING: This post is going to contain a lot of yapping from me about Hoederer and how much I love him and will also have a LOT of spoilers.

Anyway, continuing where we left off last time with the furniture sets.

Secondhand Leather Chair

A sturdy, durable chair. It may be called secondhand, but it has actually changed hands plenty more times than that. There used to be many chairs like this in their hideouts, though the number who sit on them has dwindled over the years.

STOP ANOTHER ONE ABOUT THE LOSS OF SARKAZ LIVES, I AM DEVASTATED. Yeah, nothing can beat the sheer loneliness that Mlynar Nearl has soaked into his furniture descriptions because at least Sarkaz sticks together, but there's so much to unpack here I don't even know where to begin.

Portable Mailbox

A small, movable desk with a pile of letters stacked on top and a small lamp inside. Sometimes, Hoederer gets pieces of historical excerpts sent to him, but their senders have often already become part of history before he is able to reply.

This is what got me crying in bed when I first bought the room and went through all the pieces to read their descriptions. There is something so heart-rending about living a life full of loss. Home. Friends. Family. Relationships. Everybody turns against everybody and you have to both accept it and move on with it, because if you linger for too long - you end up dead, but if you keep being paranoid about it you will just never know peace.

I lost two close people and have been wallowing in my misery for months now. Maybe that is one more thing that really makes me like Hoederer. And I do like him.

The way I see him, he is somebody who strives to move forward without never forgetting where he started from and who he was. It's both endearing and charming and it's a great characteristic to have. It's so HARD to have it, regardless if we are talking Arknights, another game character, or IRL in general. Maybe /I'm/ being too much about it, but that's what 'comfort characters' are about, right?

Basement Wall Lamp

A lamp installed on the wall with a yellow glow and exposed wires. A red scrap of cloth is tied around the metal ring. Eventually, Ines broke free of the rope tied around her wrists and took her out in her sleep.

I genuinely love the design of the wall lamp. Except when it comes to the description. What the absolute ever-loving hell.

"Door Of Life"

A heavy double-action door that separates the living space from the workspace. One side is for living, and the other side is for making a living. To Sarkaz mercenaries, the two might not be all that different.

If this is also a sliding door I can absolutely confirm that maybe I am a part Sarkaz in the way I live, because my bedroom is separated from the living room with a sliding door like that with a handle and it is a big difference where you are living and where you are 'making' the living.

Work Area Rug

A rug resistant to stains and heat, ironically covered in tracks and oil stains. The good news is that the deep red color did not originate from dried blood.

Yeah? Thank goodness. We'd have to run some tests to figure out whose it is if we find a random blood puddle on Rhodes Island.

Simple Welded Chair

A high chair put together from industrial waste. Sturdy and durable, the beast skin covering it was specially treated and seems smooth and sleek to the touch. In Kazdel, kids tend to grab waste materials to renovate their dust-laden lives.

Work Area Wall-mounted Rack

A rack used to hang tools. Pieced together from recycled metals and extremely heavy, the good thing is that it saves space. Once, the mercenaries would hang their equipment from it. That equipment has long since scattered across the lands.

"Maybe a Bonsai"

A handcrafted cabinet used to store tools. In the vase sitting atop—welded together from scrap metal—is the only splash of green in the room. Back in that small house in the cramped Kazdel slums, it wasn't a sprouted potato they planted.

Okay, but, do you know what this means? Kazdel is familiar with what bonsai is. They know that little planted trees in pretty, perhaps painted or perhaps simpler in style potteries get to be a breath of green inside your house. Everybody and their aunt get to have a bonsai because it represents life and new beginnings and whatever folk tale they might have abound them.

I'm falling apart.

Weapon Maintenance Table

A small maintenance table used for the repair and upkeep of weapons. Not only do you need to smooth out any blemishes, you also need to wipe away the blood. This is where Ines learned to sew and mend her clothes years ago.

Me hanging out there for absolutely no reason with my overhead lamp and under-hand lamp while I'm cross-stitching. That's how I imagine this being used. Perhaps me and Ines can have tea here.

Work Area Ceiling Lights

A light source used for precision tasks. Warm, stable, and dependable. Comes with an air ventilation system to ensure that any volatile gases or metallic dust can be removed in time. Hoederer often worked under its light, quiet and taciturn.

Now that I am well-prepared with the horrors that are the living conditions of the Sarkaz, I'm going to go check out how things have been going with Hoederer's skills and then we actually start Chapter 13 reading.

In the meantime, this is what the Bandorio list looks like. Except here, I forgot to take out Noir and Nothing because Lessing, Zhuo Le and Logos are coming. A lot of men with L in their names approaching my vicinity.

Decided to start top to bottom since I don't think I might need him yet for the Adverse stages. It's been two weeks almost, so he's pretty much complete. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had the gall to offer my services to those who got him but have other priorities.

...

You--- What even is this? Cyclicene Prefab? Another rock? It was a joke at first, but this is becoming ridiculous. ALL my men either huff paint or eat salt and nobody is going to bat an eye for it? What do you NEED this for???

An industrial product arrived at through the introduction of several excellent materials into the synthesis process, preserving luminous transmittance while vastly increasing strength and shock resistance. Prospects are high for its wide adoption in the field of defense.

Guess we are going to deal with M3-ing the other skill while I am dealing with this.

...

...

You're joking.

The gel. He wants his gel back.

At least I got to grind enough to get him up as fast as possible. Every single day was a: log-on, get base money and cards, level him up with like... 2-3 levels and leave up to 80 and then every day was a single level grind until I had no sanity.

Well, Mrs. Zofia, we are on a standstill until I manage to procure any coagulated gel. Tempted to pump levels into Crimson Solitaire or some other, but I'm not in the mood.

Imagine Zofia walks into the training room, having come from Lundi's RI specifically because she has to train with Hoederer and then just spots him eating a whole, boiled chicken for his regimen.

Pinkie: "She would thumbs-up him as a greeting." Me: "I love him."

[zeearchitect]

Best Architect Patna

Zee Architect is Best Architect in Patna. Some Interior related points are :

Color Color can have a profound effect on the mood of a space. Colors are what make us feel happy, sad or angry. A room's color can change our perception of size, and even the way we interpret an event. There are several ways to choose colors for a room including using primary colors, painting a picture of how a color should look, choosing complementary colors, and mixing colors together to create a new color.

Texture Texture refers to the surface quality of a material, such as smoothness, softness, or roughness. When designing a space, consider how surfaces may affect the user experience. For example, if you plan to put a bed in a room, then avoid placing a hard wood floor directly under the mattress so that the sleeper doesn't get kicked out. Choose a softer material such as carpet or a rug.

Space A good interior design should take into account its purpose and desired use. If you're looking to relax, don't place your sofa in front of the TV, and vice versa. Make sure that furniture is placed correctly so that people can easily enter and exit the room.

Lighting When setting up lighting for a space, pay attention to the shadows created throughout the room. Shadows play a major role in how dark or bright a room appears; therefore, they are essential to consider when planning lighting. To minimize shadows, set lights further away from objects, like windows. Additionally, if you want rooms to appear brighter, add lamps that produce more light, while dimmer bulbs tend to cast darker shadows.

Storage Where do you keep your items? In storage spaces, think about the types of things you need to store (i.e., clothes, shoes, books) and where those things go. Consider how much space you have available, whether you'll need to build additional cabinets, shelving, or racks, and how many drawers you'd like to have.

Function Your home is not just a place to live, it's also a functional workspace. Think about the activities that occur inside the room and determine how you would like them to function. Will you need a desk, table, or dresser? What type of kitchen would best suit your lifestyle? Do you need a closet to hang clothing, or a shelf above the door to display artwork? All these decisions shape the function of the space, so take time to think about what you need before beginning a project.

Organization You might want to organize different parts of your home differently. For instance, maybe you have a specific area for toys, another for games, and another for shoes. Or you could separate papers, personal documents, and bills in three piles—one in each room. How would that work for you?

Color Color (Best Architect in Patna) is one of the first elements that draw people's attention whenever they enter any room. When designing the interior of your home, color is quite difficult to choose. You have to make sure that it would complement well with the rest of the furniture in the house, without detracting from them too much.

Texture Texture refers to the surface quality of any material. In order to determine whether a certain texture suits a particular area, we need to consider its function, how it affects our senses, and what are the best ways to use it. Different types of textures have different uses, depending on their purpose. A smooth surface could give off an elegant and luxurious feel; while a rough or textured surface could add an earthy feeling to a space. However, overusing textures may result in cluttering the space.

Pattern Pattern is a great way to break up a monotonous look. Patterns are not only appealing, but also create interest, making rooms appear larger than they really are. The right amount of patterning can bring out the natural beauty of a place rather than distract from it.

Shape A room’s shape is determined by the layout of its furniture. Shapes can be rectangular, square, circular, triangular, U-shaped, etc. An important thing to remember is that the shapes should match each other. If you want to mix shapes, then try matching them together in different sizes, such as using round tables with rectangular chairs.

Material Material is something that surrounds us everyday, no matter where we live. In fact, materials play an extremely important role in defining the character of a space. For example, if you use wood flooring, then wooden furniture will fit naturally with it. On the other hand, if you opt for stone flooring, then stone furniture will work best. Materials can be either natural or synthetic, such as marble, granite, metal, concrete, fiberglass, and plastic.

Size Size is something that cannot be ignored. Sizes vary based on the type of furniture, room size, and even the number of items that go inside a room. While some furniture might require a lot of space, others might need less. Therefore, before you start buying furniture, think about the scale of the room and the things that you plan to put inside it.

Functionality Functionality refers to the practicality of a piece of furniture. We often buy pieces of furniture simply because they’re beautiful, but should always keep functionality in mind. You can never go wrong with classic pieces.

Contact Us

Zee Architect is Best Architect in Patna.

[cinematicnomad]

Tell me how the move went! :) <3

no move!! i'm in the same apt i've been in since last september, it's just finally, FINALLY fully furnished. the coffee table was the last big item i needed to buy (just in time for my lease renewal).

don't know if you remember but when i first moved in i didn't own a lot of stuff. the big open target bookshelf was the first item i purchased last september when i moved in as a way to separate my bed space from what would eventually be the living space, but for months that half of the studio was just...empty.

then my couch was finally delivered in mid november, but it was literally facing a blank wall (i have ALMOST finished paying off that couch). my parents visited around thanksgiving and brought me a tiny christmas tree so i could actually look at something when sitting on my couch and then they went with me to buy a big mirror to add to my space. as an early christmas gift my mom bought me a tv stand while it was on sale over black friday...for a tv i did not own lol. but i finally got a tv around...february (which took me about 4 months to pay off)? and left that christmas tree up until march due to a lack of light! but i finally got a standing lamp in april.

my great uncle passed away in march and in his will he dictated that all of his friends and family should get together and pick a few pieces of art from his collection. my mom and aunt convinced drunk-me to pick a very large piece that i loved, along with 2 others by the same artist, and those were finally delivered and hung in june (i'm grateful that they convinced me to stick with my choice but i was stressed about it for ages lol).

and then FINALLY i bought the coffee table. which i originally ordered for pick up only to drive an hour out of my way to find out the box was JUST BARELY too big for my car. so i had to return it and re-order it for shipping and it arrived yesterday and my brother helped put it together, officially, finally tying everything together.

✨sleepover weekend✨

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[flr-house-husband-blog]

Female Led Relationship In Real Life

FLR explained, the woman has final say on all matters. The man accepts her wishes, her wants, and her punishments. This isn’t the FLR most men dream about in real life which is sexual in nature; I can promise in real life it is much different and more rewarding long term for both parties involved.

For us, yes housework is my responsibility and it started out with her lowering the normal standard that she kept up so that I could get down a routine. Overtime I’ve gotten better and worked longer in rooms and areas that did not meet her standards. I want to say higher, but they were only higher standards to me when we were vanilla. I see now the importance of daily, weekly, and monthly deep cleaning chores and tasks. They really do make the house ready for guests at a moments notice without worry and it really lifts a level of stress off of her which reflects back into us and our time together.

I’ve been timed and my daily chores I can do in 20 mins if I hustle. Normally it takes me an hour in between making her breakfast or getting ready for or after my work. Either way my “right” to ask permission to play video games or have screentime on my phone is once my chores are complete. The weekly tasks I’ve broken down into days to accomplish them easier (for myself), to not get behind, and make sure I meet her expectation of cleanliness.

My fav part of our FLR which has led to has been more love, time, and attention towards her is a phone rule. Dinner at home or out, regardless with friends I have to ask permission to use my phone. Needless to say no one bats an eye as they think it’s great we’re not on our phones. I like to check google reviews and see photos of different food options at a restaurant and it’s almost always a yes when I ask and then I put it away or it goes in her purse. I will say getting to that level of discipline isn’t easy.

In FLR I thrived with any new rules or expectations as soon as Goddess Amy figured out the best punishments that one changed my perspective and made me do risk/reward calculations before taking an action. What worked for her and didn’t cause her too much additional time away from what she enjoyed and was highly effective for me was corner time (30+ mins sometimes) and marking down in my shared chore app her grievances, which I too could see and were addressed with the paddle when she so decided. Unlike fantasy FLR there is nothing fun about having your pants around your ankles and being met with a firm paddle. She knows once I’m over ten that each and everyone will be remembered throughly. She has taken it a step further and makes me recite while I’m being paddled. Again not sexy but to make sure i know what I did and what I should do again.

Writing lines or the same thing over and over on paper takes a lot of time and she doesn’t except sloppy work. When that comes up I know I’m metaphorically fucked. It’s the equivalent of a cold shoulder when we were vanilla and I know a conversation is coming.

FLR isn’t all chores and sex. It’s a means to have a more loving and quality filled relationship. It’s non-standard but really does the trick for us. Of note when you’ve been met with consequences for falling short on expectations it really does change you behavior and moments vanilla you might want to give constructive feedback or argue a point of view. In FLR skip it and if you don’t like the point/topic/discussion try and bring it up at the end of the day or week, and if you really want ask if she wants feedback and if she says yes then maybe; otherwise wait until the end of the day or week.

In real-life FLR I can only give my perspective and maybe some of hers. For me I’d say the most important part is the man accepting she has the authority. Leadership isn’t all about being right, it’s about inspiring follow-ship naturally and accomplishing shared goals of the individuals under you and for the organization. Goddess Amy does that wonderfully and this is where you could say she understands my kinks (motivation) and pessimistic characteristics (frictions). She has a firm grasps on all things me and has goals for me, expectations for herself, our house, and our family. FLR works well for us because I accept and want her authority and she cares about all of the above to ensure each and everyday we move forward and improve. It’s not like the kink where things are expected to be absolutely perfect. She knows what I can handle and pushes the bubble little by little until it’s “perfect”, I look back and think wow what a difference I never thought this was possible.

Have you heard the phrase “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. If daddy ain’t happy don’t nobody care. “ That phrase sums up FLR. This ties in with communication and roles of FLR. She can easily say be ready we are going out and that means get in nice clothes and get everything ready to go or she can say she’s going out, which means I have the house to myself and if I’m lucky I’ll be given permission to watch TV or play games on my laptop. This ties in with staying on top of the routine she has set for me and other rules like no screentime without the chores being done. Most times I’m fortunate enough to get sceentime when I have the house to myself and sometimes it’s an opportunity for me to address a writing assignment she would like or an addtional chore. Rarely does it include me playing and sending pictures while she is out and about, but either way I’m always responsive and accept what she chooses as I know and believe it has a purpose. I just don’t sometimes fully understand it until later on down the road.

Real-life FLR the man only does what she wants and in ours she has retained meal prep for us and weekday dinners. The weekends I get to grill out and make her meals. Dishes are easy in our house. After a meal we clear the table, some things into rubber ware, some things rinsed in the sink and then into the dishwasher. We have a sign for clean/dirty and the dishwasher gets ran at night once full every couple of days and per my checklist is emptied or check daily.

A big benefit for her is me seeking ways to earn extra privileges ultimately by going out of my way to be on my best behavior, pampering her with love, surprises, and foot rubs. Some days she surprises me with the same to include paid massages and also breakfast in bed.

In public we appear vanilla, with the exception that I may secretly ask permission to have a soda or bend our diet plan a bit with a dessert. I’ve found asking before we go out with friends is better and also she has coded eye brows and looks which convey a silent approval or disapproval as I talk through what I might want when asked.

In addition to not meal prepping every meal since she loves cooking and helping us meet our fitness goals there are a few other things she retains control of. One is laundry, not because she loves it but because only she understands our walk in closet system for her stuff. Every morning I make sure everything is in the hamper and check the dryer- going through and pulling clothes tout of the dryer and separating out her dresses, tops, panties, etc in a way that makes it faster for her to put away herself, along with hanging and putting away all of my clothes neatly. Second the baby’s room there is a fancy rug which gets cleaned a certain way that’s off limits to me. I didn’t ask why and daily just make sure everything is clean and organized. Unlike fantasy FLR you won’t see me begging to do more chores, but you will see me finding areas which I add to my daily to keep off my monthly and deep clean routine to save myself time another day but just maintaining the area better. One example for this is dusting, yes the dreaded dusting. Once despised, I now prefer to address it per room per weekday versus all at once on the weekend. For me it’s less tedious when mixed in with picking up toys, vacuuming, and wiping down surfaces versus a whole hour of it another day.

To end this long discussion one thing that I like most about our FLR is despite me, the man not having final decision is that she gets my feedback 9 times out of 10 before making the final decision. I always feel heard and understood even when I don’t get what I wanted on most big topics, this isn’t the case with little chores or screentime expectations.

[modern-inheritance]

I don’t really know where I’m going with this but do you have any Oromis/Morzan headcanons? Before or during the fall, or Oromis’ feelings towards Morzan afterwards?

I have a few! More than a few apparently, I'm just finishing this up and uh...yeah that got longer than I thought!

I’m going to do my best to leave Glaedr and Morzan’s dragon out of these because while they’re large parts of each other's lives and even maybe personalities considering how deeply bonded Riders and their dragons can be, I want to be sure I’m keeping the characters separate. Kinda like how you shouldn’t constantly group identical twins together as a single entity, ya know?

Alright let's start off with Morzan. Time for some backstory!

Modern Inheritance!Morzan

Morzan was born into a family of low level nobles. By the time Morzan was about six or seven though, the family had fallen out of favor and was struggling to keep up appearances, spending money they didn’t necessarily have on lavish items and acting increasingly narcissistic in a desperate attempt to hold onto the standing and power they once had.

Morzan probably started showing antisocial behavior around this time, mainly impulsive petty theft, inserting himself in dangerous situations, and manipulation through charm with adults and intimidation and violence with other children. Due to his family’s last shreds of political strength and their long time in the area, most of these incidents were swept under the rug or outright ignored by his family. This generally left a very angry, disgusted-with-others, burgeoning narcissistic young Morzan to his own devices.

When Morzan was chosen by his dragon, his parents were quietly glad that he wouldn’t be their responsibility anymore. They didn’t disclose any of his troubling behaviors and Morzan was quick to understand that he would need to tamp the more obvious ones down and manipulate others into hiding his transgressions.

Despite all this, Morzan and his dragon do deeply care for each other. Due to Morzan’s mind linking with the hatchling, there was a sort of evening out of his behaviors as some were ‘shared’ do the hatchling and some of the hatchling’s personality was ‘shared’ with Morzan. This is what helped Morzan fly under the radar for so much longer until his eventual betrayal.

On a lighter note, Morzan shot up like a weed when he hit puberty, once growing nearly five inches (~12.7 cm) over the span of a year. It took a year or so for his muscles to visibly bulk up, so he was this tall gangly teenager for a while. His clothes constantly needed altering.

Initially Morzan doesn’t really know what to think of Oromis and Glaedr. His family was always distracted from giving him the attention and nurturing he needed, and suddenly he has not only this baby dragon who he can share his frustrations and emotions with but also parental figures.

Eventually he warmed up to them, but more in the sense that he became attached to their attention and the praise he got when he did well in magic and other lessons. He didn’t showboat as much, but would push himself to get more compliments, praise and attention from Oromis. Oromis saw this more as Morzan taking his training seriously. There were a few instances of Morzan and his dragon being pointed out as instigators of some scuffles or small acts of possible, unproven acts of sabotage harming or tripping up other Riders-in-training, but these were generally believed to be accidents or bad luck.

Morzan’s bullying and belittling of Brom was the result of Morzan feeling like his unfettered access to Oromis and Glaedr’s attention was being threatened. He knew he couldn’t get away with physically injuring Brom and Saphira I, so his physical actions never really went past ‘accidental’ full force hits in sparring and roughhousing. If Brom got praise or compliments from Oromis, Morzan would seethe quietly, eventually exploding in rage at some later point after it built up. Again, Oromis merely thought this was just adolescent growing pains.

Wooo! That is getting LONG, eh? I’ve got more, but for now I’m going to move on to Oromis and his feelings around Morzan’s betrayal and link you to whatever extra stuff I add later. I’m really unsure about the timeline of when Morzan betrayed the Riders and when it was known that he had, so I’m mostly going to skip that chunk. Let's go!

Modern Inheritance!Oromis

Even without 100% knowing/being sure of Morzan’s betrayal, I think there was a whirlwind of confusion and general chaos when Galbatorix murdered Shurikan’s original Rider. Who was a child. A Rider had murdered a child Rider and while everyone knew Galbatorix was unstable I don’t think anyone would have expected that. Oromis was swept up in all this and didn’t have time to really ask where Morzan was. I mean, Morzan was a grown man at that point and well beyond Oromis’s control.

Morzan’s involvement was probably confirmed without a doubt at the initial attack on Ilirea, and Oromis and Glaedr didn’t have time to process this until after their brief capture.

Oromis felt some really strong guilt. That’s putting it bluntly.  Let’s expand it, shall we?

First off, I think Oromis felt some guilt over not being able to help in the sort of final big battle at Ilirea. He was previously quite powerful since he was on the council that refused Galbatorix a new dragon (that’s a whole other topic to look at later on btw), and despite his age and wisdom I think it’s safe to assume that any sudden event causing massive life changes can be pretty shocking. Oromis felt powerless and after the deaths that occured in Galbatorix’s initial attack with the Forsworn on the Riders, I think he knew that there would be more. And all he and Glaedr could do was hide in Ellesméra and tend to their wounds and new maladies.

As they healed I’m pretty sure Oromis spent a lot of time thinking ‘how could I have stopped this?’ Hindsight is...well, whatever-elves-have/20, and Oromis would have put all the signs together that were telling him that there was something off about Morzan from the start. He probably thought subconsciously that he was fixing Morzan and didn’t want to acknowledge just how dangerous that little 10 year old boy and scrawny hatchling he had met all those years ago had become as he grew. There was also a lot of guilt post-Ilirea’s final fall around not protecting Brom from Morzan enough, and feeling like a lot of Brom’s pain was Oromis’s own fault because of this.

Oh man, Oromis also has heaps of survivors guilt about the Riders that, while he does work through it and focuses on extending his life to train the next Rider, never really fades completely. He understands that he could not fight in his condition, but there’s always the nagging ‘what if’ questions that can rear up unexpectedly.

Once he learns of Murtagh and Thorn and their forced fealty to Galbatorix, I think Oromis’s guilt probably pushed him over to definitely join the fight at Gil’ead. It’s likely that he feels that if he had separated Brom and Morzan, had taken the signs of Morzan’s growing antisocial disorder seriously and gotten him proper help, and hadn’t been so blind during the Golden Age, then in some strange way he may have prevented everything from happening. Morzan wouldn’t have let Galbatorix into Ilirea, Shruikan wouldn’t have been stolen, the Forsworn wouldn’t have been influenced by Galbatorix and Morzan (who used his manipulative charm to sway some), and it all comes to, in the end, Murtagh and Thorn, both relatively innocent in this and dragged in only due to parentage and some situations which they have no control over, would have never been forced through torture and cruelty to join Galbatorix and fight people they once saw as friends and family.

Overall I think Oromis, while having processed/processing and come to terms with the Riders Fall and the hand he inadvertently had in it due to his connection to and, in some ways, his failures surrounding Morzan, he still carries this deep feeling of guilt. He doesn’t let it simply sit there though, as he pushes himself to be able to train the next generation, but it’s always there.

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH okay that’s what I’ve got for now. Holy shit that’s a lot of bulletpoints, huh? 

I spent some time researching antisocial behavior and Antisocial Personality Disorder, but per usual I want to state that I am by no means an expert, and the behaviors and traits portrayed here are not the only results, symptoms, or scenarios that can occur when someone has antisocial behavior or ASPD. Mental health is a difficult subject to write about, especially when I have no personal or second hand experience with the specifics, and I’m always open to educating myself on these topics. I am doing my best to learn so that I don’t stereotype or offend. If there are comments/concerns/critique please please don’t ever feel bad about messaging me privately, via the comments, via reblog, or through the ask box point out what I got wrong or if you simply want to share your experiences or concerns. 

I’ll probably have more Morzan specific backstory and ideas later on, but for now I need to make some dinner and get to work on the other ask. Cheers!

Thank you again to @siriusly-misunderstood-creatures​ for the ask! I always appreciate asks and comments, they make my brain work!!

[pwheezy420]

Shopping Advice For Area Rugs

On account of the numerous functional benefits of area rugs, the history of these fundamental decor pieces traces all the way back to the times of early human civilization. While rugs today have absolutely advanced from their crude partners, a significant number of the essential functions continue as before. An area rug goes find out more here about as floor insurance, ingests sounds in a room, adds solace and obviously, stylish allure. At their starting point, area rugs were additionally utilized as simple flooring, seating areas and elective sheet material.

The art of making and buying rugs has likewise advanced significantly after some time. At this point not just an animal skin or woven reed, numerous area rugs today have formed into genuine bits of workmanship. Elaborate plans and colors joined with rich materials have changed rugs from viable decor components into the focal plan component in a room. Today, shopping for an area rug might even appear to be overpowering because of the large assortment of decisions. Here we will try and separate the dynamic interaction into the four essential contemplations: color, size, material and price.

When planning a room, area rugs might seem like trifling additions; however, these small pieces can effectsly affect the style and feeling of an inside. When shopping for area rugs, you should choose whether you need them to go about as functional fundamentals, free pieces or focal plan components. Color assumes a significant part when settling on this choice. Prior to researching which sort of area rug you might want to buy, you should initially evaluate the inside space you are anticipating putting it in.

For a room that as of now has numerous strong plan highlights, bright colors and complex examples, you ought to most likely try not to pick a rug that would contend with this bustling inside. All things being equal, pick an area rug that is presented in corresponding colors or maybe even neutrals to restrain the setting. In the converse circumstance where a room needs a sprinkle of color or intriguing extra, contemporary area rugs with strong colors and striking plans would be a decent decision.

Whenever you have picked the plan and color of your area rug, you should likewise evaluate the space accessible. Area rugs are presented in a wide range of sizes and shapes, so you can without much of a stretch find the right counterpart for your inside. Round area rugs are a pleasant addition to square rooms and under tables, while rectangular rugs can be utilized to separate large spaces.

The material of an area rug is likewise a significant thought. Normal fiber rugs like sisal rugs and jute rugs are regularly straightforward in plan and presented in impartial shades. These more natural choices look extraordinary in sunrooms and separated patios. Shag rugs add surface to moderate current insides, and braided rugs depict a warm, country feel to a room.

Likewise with any buying choice, you should determine a spending plan prior to shopping for an area rug. Rugs can be pricey, however there are likewise many discount area rugs accessible in stores and online. Whatever your financial plan might be, any quality area rug is a shrewd speculation that will genuinely make a difference in a room.

[tack-tick]

First Crack

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31025765

Wrote an SBI Swap One-shot. Mainly becasue Phil and Techno’s relationship gets basically destroyed in this AU and this is the beginning of that. Also, this is the start of Techno’s issues down the line.

So yeah very important fic in the SBI Swap. Thanks to @sleepy-bois-incorporated for beta-reading this fic! They’ve got some good fics that I highly recommend you read!

Thanks for reading and it’s under the cut! It’s about 2.4K words!

Techno was so ready to stop taking care of this farm. Sure, he enjoyed potato farming but there’s only so long you can work on the same farm without getting bored.

He stretched as he finally loaded the last of the potatoes into a sack for him to take back to his base. Techno glanced at the clock stuck on the dirt wall and winced at the time. If he’d known, it was so late would have left earlier. He heard the mocking of Chat, with mummers of “Technolate!”

He heaved the sack of potatoes over his shoulder and started the trek from Pogtopia to his secret base. He used to just stay in his room here but he had decided he needed some space. Well, that was what he had told Phil.

He wouldn’t say him and Phil were fighting, that was a pretty strong word after all. It was more like they had been having… disagreements. Almost every day. For a couple of months. That more often than not ended in the two shouting at each other before someone, most likely Tommy, would yell at them to shut up.

So yeah, Techno could admit that things were a bit rocky between him and Phil. That was only because Phil had become a paranoid fool down here. He was working with Dream, of all people! He had been saying they were the bad guys and that he was going to blow it up and all this other nonsense. Techno has given up two whole lives for this and there was no way he was letting Phil throw it all away!

Techno stopped and took a breathe. No, he was getting worked up again and it couldn’t help that he could hear Chat started to get worked up too, causing red to spread at the edge of his vision.

Even if Phil had been acting very different than normal, Techno couldn’t just leave him behind. Phil had gotten screwed over by so many people and there was no way Techno would add another knife in his back. It was why him and Ranboo hadn’t just run off to the cabin in the woods. Far away from wars and duels, where Wilbur and Fundy were safely tucked away.

He wished he told Ranboo to go without him. He stopped in front of the hole that separated Ranboo’s room from the main area. He didn’t really know why his feet had taken him there but he might as well check on him. After all, Ranboo was his… brother? Maybe? Techno wasn’t sure but Chat was awfully protective of him after the whole fireworks in the chest thing.

Techno poked his head into the room and saw Ranboo sleeping on his bed straight ahead. His arms were still wrapped up tight with white bandages but at least he wasn’t having a bad dream tonight. Techno could see the faint glow of the purple burn scars on his face and through the bandages. Ranboo had said that was just an enderman thing.

“Looks fine to me, Chat,” Techno whispered and he left the room. Certainly better than a couple of weeks ago. Techno continued on past Phil’s room and heard the faint caws of the injured crows Phil kept in there. He hoped that they would get better soon, considering that Phil hadn’t cleaned that room for months now. As Techno was about to go around the corner, he heard whispering.

He summoned his sword from his inventory and pressed his back against the wall. He inches closer to the edge and tried to make out what the voices were.

“Come on Phil, he hardly looks in these chests!” Tommy said with a whine. Techno slumped a little in relief. He put the sword back in his inventory. While he would normally confront Tommy about stealing his stuff again, he really didn’t feel like it tonight. Besides, he could let Phil handle this one. He casually leaned against the wall. If Tommy wouldn’t budge, he’d step in and make it two against one.

“Tommy, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t piss him off,” Phil said. Techno heard the opening of a chest lid and the annoyed sigh of Phil.

“Ah, but that’s the best part Phil!” Tommy said with a small chuckle.

“Tommy, we need to keep Techno at our side,” Phil said and Techno frowned at the unfortunately familiar paranoia in his voice. Was he really paranoid of even him? Sure, he’d talked about how they couldn’t even trust Ranboo. It was what one of their bigger arguments had been about but surely Phil knew that Techno would never in a million years betray him.

It was why he hadn’t just left all of this behind when Ranboo had asked if they should run away.

“Techno? Psh, that’s about as likely as me betraying Tubbo or Wilbur,” Tommy said flippantly. He heard the chest lid close and creak as he assumed Tommy was leaning on it. “Besides, we’ve gotta stick together! We’re family!”

The silence seemed to fill the room as Techno waited for Phil to agree.

“Right, Phil?” Tommy said, his voice softer and more hesitant than it had been before.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say we need Technoblade exactly,” Phil said, slowly and thoughtfully. The chest creaked again as Tommy presumably shot to his feet.

“Let me finish,” Phil said with a small yet dark laugh. “I said we don’t need Technoblade but,”

“We do need The Blood God,”

Techno had clamped his hand over his mouth in a desperate effort to not cry out, to not scream. He slid down the wall and onto the floor, his back against the wall. Chat was ringing in his ears, their voices mixed with rage and grief.

How long? How long had Phil been thinking of him like this? When had Phil started thinking of him as just a weapon to fight for him?

Techno tried to focus back on the conversation, but everything in his head was too loud.

Sure, people had used him before but most of the time they were honest. Pay him to go fight something then separate. He was fine with that but sometimes it seemed like he had made a real friend. Then, when the fighting was done they just… left.

Not Phil though, never Phil. Phil had been the one to save him from himself when he was just a kid and Phil had been the one who had held him tight when Chat got out of control.

A sharp slam on a wall wrenched him back to reality.

“Are you fucking serious Phil?” Said Tommy. “He’s not a fucking weapon, he’s a person!”

“I don’t need a person right now!” Phil said. “People stab you in the back but weapons never do!”

Techno heard Phil chuckle at that but it wasn’t the warm laugh from the old days when him and his brothers would bicker about something stupid. No, it was darker, the one he used when he insisted that they needed to be the bad guys and blow it all to kingdom come. When Phil insisted that they couldn’t trust Ranboo, even after he got himself blown up with a damn firework because of his spying for them.

“Phil, you’re starting to freak me out a little,” said Tommy and Phil let out a bark of laughter at that.

“Oh am I?” He said, “What, you gonna run back to Wilbur? I thought you wanted excitement!”

“Phil, this isn’t you! Stop saying this shit about him!” Tommy said and Techno heard two steps on the floor. Whether it was two steps forward or two steps back he wasn’t sure.

“Stop being a naive child, Tommy,” Phil said, “I can’t afford to be too personal with anyone anymore and The Blood God is the best fighter on this entire server and you know it!” There was a sharp bang on the chest lid. “If he decides he wants to work with Manberg, we’re fucked!”

“Surely you know Techno would never do that,” Tommy said. “Surely, you know how hurt he would be if he knew what you’re saying right now!”

“I don’t care how he feels. As long as he can fight, that’s all I need,”

With that, Techno heard the flap of wings and he guessed that Phil had flown off. He heard the sound of running and then everything was quiet.

However, quiet never lasted long and Techno held his hand against his mouth even tighter as the Char roared in his head.

“Used us!” “Lied to us!” “How could he…” “We trusted him!” “Kill him!”

Techno stumbled to his feet. He was still clutching the potato sack and his knuckles had turned white. He started walking then he was running.

He had to get out of this suddenly too small ravine right now. His vision was flashing red and Chat was only getting louder and louder by the second. He bit his lip in order to keep quiet even as he tasted blood on his tongue.

He finally reached the winding stairs and ran up them, almost tripping on his cloak. He got upstairs and flung the door open. The cool, fresh air of the night hit him and he was never so grateful in his life for it.

He wasn’t in the clear yet, however. He still had to get to his base. He started walking through the woods. Chat had quieted down a bit but now he had a headache that rang through his skull.

He got to the river and dove in. He swam down the bottom and opened the trapdoor. With that he finally landed in his base.

He sat down on the couch in the… oh.

He was in the living room. The one place that Phil had helped him decorate before he had started acting unlike himself. It was filled with potted plants and a cozy rug on the floor. It didn’t match because they had been forced to smuggle out old furniture that had been thrown out. He sighed and put his head in his hands. He sniffed when he felt a strange wetness on his cheeks. Did he have a leak on the ceiling again?

He wiped his cheek and he realized.

“Oh,” Techno quietly said. He was crying. He wiped his cheeks again.

“Who else is…” he muttered to himself. He thought he had finally found a group of people that wouldn’t use him. He had trusted all of them. He really had!

He… he had trusted Phil. What a fool he was.

He got up from the couch with a jolt and started pacing the room.

“I gave up everything for his fucking country!” He said, his vision getting redder and redder by the minute. “What else is he lying to me about?” His pacing was getting faster and faster.

“I don’t need him!” He said with a watery laugh. Chat was in his ears fully now but they were being so loud. They were being so loud, too loud. He couldn’t hear anything. His eyes were burning and why the hell was he still crying for someone who he wasn’t sure had ever cared about him.

“SHUT UP!” He yelled and slammed his fist against the stone wall. He stood there, with his fist in the wall and trying to catch his breath. Cracks spread from the fist like veins.

Suddenly, Techno felt something small on his chest. Still leaning against the wall, he used his other hand to reach down and grip it.

Oh, he’d almost forgotten he had this. He looked down at the small emerald necklace in the palm of his hand. The emerald was lined with gold.

Techno remembered this. Him and Phil had found these on one of their many adventures. They had found a village and Phil borrowed an anvil to carve something into them.

He called them Friendship Emeralds. He remembered they had laughed at the cheesiness of it, but Techno had still kept his. All this time, he had made sure the emerald necklace had stayed around his neck.

He clutched the necklace tighter. Did Phil still have his? Had he thrown it away?

He had promised Phil the world once and he gave it to him. So why was Phil going to take what he had given him and render it useless?

With an angry yet sorrowful roar, Techno ripped the necklace off and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a crack.

“Oh no,” Techno said and he immediately went to where he saw it shimmering on the ground. Chat’s laughter filled his head.

“Serves him right!” “Ha, emerald is gone!” “Technothrow!”

“Please don’t be broken, please don’t be broken,” he muttered to himself as he bent down to examine it. He sighed in relief. Despite little bits of emerald surrounding it, the core was still intact. All that was there was a long, thin crack that stretched from the top to the bottom. Techno stuffed it in his cloak’s pocket. He’d have to find a replacement gold chain later.

Techno just sat on the floor. No, he had to start thinking straight. Even if Phil said those things about him, that didn’t mean he was giving up on him. He was only messed up because of the war and being stuck in Pogtopia for such a long time. However, even Techno wasn’t sure what Phil would do in a week’s time. After the fighting was finally over and they had reclaimed their country. They would get back L’Manberg, no doubt in his mind about that. If Phil decided to do something stupid, then who could talk him out of it?

Suddenly, Techno knew exactly who he needed to write to. He could hear that Chat had the same idea and was saying his name over and over again.

Techno quickly got up and rummaged through a chest and found a pen and paper. He sat down on the couch and started writing a letter in what was probably the worst handwriting he’d ever write but that didn’t matter. He had to get this letter to him as fast as possible.

The person who was supposed to be here in the first place. Who hadn’t come becasue he had a son to take care of. Who had the charisma and charm to convince anybody to do practically anything. Who was one of the smartest people Techno knew. The one person who Phil would never think would have any reason to betray him.

“Dear Wilbur…”

[peacemaker-ic]

Now to look at the build aspect of this pack. We got a lot of items in a few different styles in what I could consider cottage, neo-classical, and modern designs. A good range of styles that are different but can sort of be mixed and matched. Be prepared, I rambled. 

Windows and Doors

So many different styles in this pack. Style 1 is sort of a wood/stone-textured neo-classical style with rounded pediments, with optional flatter style for the smaller windows. Even two matching doors! Two! 

The second style is another neo-classical style, but it is more of a stone construction with flat and pointed pediments. In my picture the pointed pediments are actually covered by the frieze which is a good trick to get a bit more variety. There is also a greater emphasis on medium wall height for this set which is a nice change. There is also a new column you can see in the picture, a really nice stone fence, and 2 new friezes. I love that friezes are getting some more attention, in particular being a smaller depth as well. There are also 3 dormers in the neo-classical style which you can see in style 1 and style 2. 

Style 3 is what I would consider an English cottage style. Definitely has an old stone farmhouse look to it and that was achieved easily with the new stone wall which is definitely a highlight. There is also a matching dormer. That is 4 dormers in total, that must be a record. 

Style 4 is clearly modern, but the wood panelling is definitely unique. Not sure how much I will use them since they are a little clunky. There are a flat and angled peice, but the angled is medium wall height and the other is short. Definitely think that needs expanded on. There are a few metal-frame windows too which work well is the Foxbury area for the more modern look. 

Given they buildmode items were spread over 4 different styles, there are enough to build with without feeling like something is missing. Downside is there is not a lot of colour overlap which would have been nice to make mixing and matching a bit easier. 

The last picture is just here to show you just how easy it is to make the penthouse apartment style look seamless with the shell beneath. I looks like a lot of effort was put into that so it didn’t look like a lot on top of a building. Same walls and windows were used and it just works really well. 

Walls and Floors

Not much here unfortunately. Only one floor which is a polygonal patterned carpet which looks right at home in google’s open plan free thinking space. So foxbury in a nutshell. You would only see this in a public space. Maybe would work well as a rug?

The walls are a bit more substantial, with a horizontal stripe wall, new wood panelling, a stucco style wall i most often associate with the lower parts of georgian townhouses in 2 styles, the previously mentioned stone wall (perhaps inspired by the stone used in the town of Bath?), an ornate trim brick and a stucco/stone mix. All designed to work with the more European design you see here. Still need to play around with some of them to get a feel for how to use them, but I do love the new stone wall a lot. 

Plants, Trees & Rocks

No plants which makes me sad, but the world objects have all being included which has some lovely ivy i have been using. 

Wall Sculptures

New planter box in the style of the cottage set, another wall-mounted hanging basket which I love to use, and another Juliet Balcony decor object in the style of the stone fence. I really love the look of it, very Romanesque in appearance. 

Trim and Friezes

No new trim, but 2 new friezes. I do love them and think they are going to get a lot of use. I love when friezes get some love. 

Fencing

Only the stone fence, but gee whizz, is that fence going to get abused!

Roof Decorations

Four, yes four new dormers. I think they offer a lot of options to add visual interest and i have actually been using them as a decor item placing through the half walls like in the style 1 picture. Also 2 new chimneys which is also a welcome addition. 

Columns

2 new columns, but the biggest deal here is the basegame update allowing the stretching of them which really opens up a lot of possibilities. Some are height restricted, but give that some of them work look add if stretched to much that is an acceptable compromise. I honestly can’t wait to make some antebellum builds, but there are a few work around for that to happen. Will hopefully talk about that more in a separate post/tutorial. 

So what do i think? I think we got a lot of build content given that these sorts of packs do need to prioritise gameplay at the expense of objects. That is just basic math. But i think we got a lot more then I was expecting given how integral University is to the franchise and adding that to the game. Would i want more? Yes. I definitely want more window sizes, especially larger versions of the windows, but I have been given great bones to try and get that done as a future project. That will add so many more possibilities in the future, that’s for sure.

[witchesoz]

What we know of Oz: Book 1, the East

# Let’s talk a bit about the first Ozian region that Dorothy travels through: the land of the East, the Blue Land, the land of the Munchkins. This region’s “official” color is blue – well, official is maybe too much of a term. In the book it is merely referred to as the “favorite” color of the land’s inhabitants, like all the other “official” colors of Oz. However it doesn’t mean the whole land is blue – the flowers, the grass, the birds are said to be a diverse and vibrant palette of colors. Blue is rather found in man-made things: the Munchkins houses, farms, fences and doors are painted blue. The Munchkins also dye blue their bedsheets, their rugs and their clothes. In terms of clothes, we know that women and children wear blue but we don’t know exactly what they wear. However we have an exact description of the typical clothing worn by all the adult male Munchkins (and it seems that being an adult in the Munchkin population is being old enough to sport a beard) : a blue round hat that rises to a small point a foot above their heads, with little bells around the brims that tinkle sweetly as they move, blue clothes the same shade as the hats, and well-polished boots with a deep roll of blue at the top. In terms of culture, we know that the Munchkins are by nature kind-hearted people, very emotional and very empathic – for example, when Dorothy starts crying, immediately the three grown-up Munchkin men around her also start crying. 

The narration adds says that the Munchkins are good farmers able to raise large crops – in fact, all the Munchkins houses we see are also farms of some sort, and most of the Munchkins are farmers, the only exception mentioned being a tinsmith and a family of woodchoppers. A typical Munchkin house is round, with a big dome for a roof, all painted blue. # The Munchkin country is “sometimes pleasant, sometimes dark and terrible”, as the Witch of the North puts it. Boq has a very similar warning: “the country is rich and pleasant, but to go to the Emerald City, one has to go through rough and dangerous places”. Indeed the Munchkin Country seems to be split in two areas – its most eastern area, which is a true Eden Garden, a rural Arcadia – and its western part, the closer to the Emerald City, that is basically one gloomy and creepy forest filled with dangers and monsters. Is it the natural disposition of the region? Or was it a natural tool the Wicked Witch used to isolate even more the Munchkins? Or maybe the whole country was peaceful and beautiful a long time ago but the Wicked Witch of the East made its border a world of doom and death? Who knows, all theories are possible.

To explore the Munchkin country, I will probably follow the Yellow Brick Road, the one that crosses the whole land. Note that in the book the Yellow Brick Road isn’t a sort of “historical landmark” or “main axis” in the Munchkin country. It is merely the only road that leads to the Emerald City, and in fact it isn’t cared for by anyone anymore, falling into ruin in the most isolated parts of the country. Most of the Munchkins never want to go to the Emerald City – Boq for example never went there, and the Tin Woodman explains that his father went once to the city, when he was a small boy, and that it already was “a long journey through a dangerous country”. (Take in note how there is a separation between the “dangerous country” and the one the Munchkins live in; I will talk about it later with the Quadling country). As for why the bricks are yellow, it is not explained in the book, even though a theory explains that the road is yellow merely because it goes towards the west, hence the yellow color (and it suggests that there are similar roads, a purple one for the north and a red one for the south).

The road starts in the best part of the country, with “neat fences of dainty blue color”, fields of grain and vegetable in abundance – it is also where is located the house of Boq. For those of you that don’t know of him, Boq is apparently “one of the richest Munchkins in the land”, his house being larger than a regular Munchkin house, and after the death of the Wicked Witch he hosts a party with a bunch of friends where they abandon themselves to the typical Munchkin pleasures – dancing, singing, playing the fiddle and eating feasts of fruits, nuts, pies and cakes. After this house follows the cornfield where the Scarecrow is first met. After that the road becomes rough, the yellow bricks said to be uneven, broken or missing. The farms are “not well-cared of”, there are fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, the country becomes “more dismal and lonesome”, until there are no more fences, and the land becomes rough and untilled. Clearly, the Munchkins avoid being too close to the western part of their country, or had to move away from it.

The road then enters into a forest – which seems to occupy the whole western part of the Munchkin country. The forest is said to be “great”, with trees “so big and so close” that their branches meet and unite, blocking the light of the sun, so that at night the forest is pitch-black and no human can even see what is going on around them. This is where the Tin Man’s house is located. The presence of the Tin Man is actually quite an interesting thing… you see the Tin Man is the only “human” inhabitant of this forest, and his cottage is the only house found in the forest. Since the Tin Man lived there (and then stayed rusted there) for a very long time, it is very possible that he lived in the woods at a time when the forest was still occupied by Munchkins lumberjacks and woodsmen, but that they ended up abandoning it, leaving only one wood chopper behind, the Tin Man. But again, the Tin Man’s cottage is quite close to the edge of the forest, so maybe even at the time when lumberjacks worked in it, they did not dare go into its depths. Further away, the trees and branches become so thick that if they aren’t chopped down, one can’t keep walking on the yellow brick road, clearly indicating that the road was abandoned and that nature grew wild around it. The road goes on in these “thick woods”, its yellow bricks covered with “dried branches and dead leaves”, with no birds around (because as the narration puts it, birds prefer open spaces and sunshine), but with deep growls in its depths, the growls of wild animals – in fact, it is in this part of the forest that we meet the Cowardly Lion. Then the road is split, yes, split, by a wide and deep ditch that divides the forest “as far as can see”, with jagged rocks at the bottom and sides too steep to climb – the Lion has to take his comrades on his back and jump over it to continue along the Yellow Brick Road. Later, our little team meets another gulf that breaks the road, but this one so broad and so deep not even the Lion can jump over it, and they have to cut down a tree to cross over. These gulfs are obviously quite “recent” given that they actually break the road in two – which makes one wonder when, exactly, the road was created. Either the ditches are recent, either the road is very ancient. (Interestingly, in the audio series “Chronicles of Oz”, the explanation given to these huge breaks in the road was that the Wicked Witch of the East broke the Yellow Brick Road to prevent the Wizard from invading her domain). It is also very interesting to note that these ditches actually act as the “borders” of a very specific part of the forest, said to be “thick and gloomy” – the territory of the Kalidahs. 

Kalidahs are one of the threats of Munchkin land, “monstrous beasts with bodies of bears and heads like tigers” the Lion says, with claws so long and sharp they could cut him in two. I’ll talk of the “mind” of the Kalidahs later, but I will already mention here that the mention of the Kalidahs as “monstrous”, especially when it is done by the Lion, himself a beast, seems to indicate that the Kalidahs are seen as monsters or abominations by the other beasts of Munchkinland. However, this should be taken with a grain of salt – it may also just be the Lion’s cowardliness speaking. Immediately after crossing the great gulf, the trees become thinner and start to bear fruits (peaches and plums mostly, in the forest the only fruits available were nuts), until the Yellow Brick Road stops at a broad river. This broad river seems to act as the border between the Eastern lands and the central region of the Emerald City, so I’ll stop my description here. However, note that to go from where she landed to the Emerald City, Dorothy had to walk around five or six days – four or five in Munchkin land, roughly one day to go from the river to the Emerald City. Some of you may like to calculate the amount of miles or kilometers she crossed in this time based on complex calculations… I remember someone once calculated the rough dimension of Oz… It must be still on DeviantArt somewhere

[hikingmysteries]

The (”Mostly Harmless”) Nameless Hiker

Arguably the biggest hiking story of 2020, the tale actually starts a few years ago. Though we love researching and writing our own pieces for Hiking Mysteries, it is tough to top Nicholas Thompson’s article from Wired magazine. So, here it is, along with images.

A Nameless Hiker and the Case the Internet Can’t Crack

The man on the trail went by “Mostly Harmless." He was friendly and said he worked in tech. After he died in his tent, no one could figure out who he was.

IN APRIL 2017, a man started hiking in a state park just north of New York City. He wanted to get away, maybe from something and maybe from everything. He didn’t bring a phone; he didn’t bring a credit card. He didn’t even really bring a name. Or at least he didn’t tell anyone he met what it was.

He did bring a giant backpack, which his fellow hikers considered far too heavy for his journey. And he brought a notebook, in which he would scribble notes about Screeps, an online programming game. The Appalachian Trail runs through the area, and he started walking south, moving slowly but steadily down through Pennsylvania and Maryland. He told people he met along the way that he had worked in the tech industry and he wanted to detox from digital life. Hikers sometimes acquire trail names, pseudonyms they use while deep in the woods. He was “Denim” at first, because he had started his trek in jeans. Later, it became “Mostly Harmless,” which is how he described himself one night at a campfire. Maybe, too, it was a reference to Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Early in the series, a character discovers that Earth is defined by a single word in the guide: harmless. Another character puts in 15 years of research and then adds the adverb. Earth is now “mostly harmless.”

By summer, the hiker was in Virginia, where he walked about a hundred miles with a 66-year-old woman who went by the trail name Obsidian. She taught him how to make a fire, and he told her he was eager to see a bear. On December 1, Mostly Harmless had made it to northern Georgia, where he stopped in a store called Mountain Crossings. A veteran hiker named Matt Mason was working that day, and the two men started talking. Mostly Harmless said that he wanted to figure out a path down to the Florida Keys. Mason told him about a route and a map he could download to his phone. “I don’t have a phone,” Mostly Harmless replied. Describing the moment, Mason remembers thinking, “Oh, this guy’s awesome.” Everyone who goes into the woods is trying to get away from something. But few people have the commitment to cut their digital lifelines as they put on their boots.

Mason printed the 60 pages of the map and sold it to Mostly Harmless for $5 cash, which the hiker pulled from a wad of bills that Mason remembers being an inch thick. Mason loves hikers who are a little bit different, a little bit strange. He asked Mostly Harmless if he could take a picture. Mostly Harmless hesitated but then agreed. He then left the shop and went on his way. Two weeks later, Mason heard from a friend in Alabama who had seen Mostly Harmless hiking through a snowstorm. “He was out there with a smile on his face, walking south,” Mason recalls.

By the last week of January, he was in northern Florida, walking on the side of Highway 90, when a woman named Kelly Fairbanks pulled over to say hello. Fairbanks is what is known as a “trail angel,” someone who helps out through-hikers who pass near her, giving them food and access to a shower if they want. She was out looking for a different hiker when she saw Mostly Harmless. She pulled over, and they started to chat. He said that he had started in New York and was heading down to Key West. She asked if he was using the Florida Trail App, and he responded that he didn’t have a phone.

Fairbanks took notice of his gear—which was a mix of high-end and generic, including his black-and-copper trekking poles. And she was struck by his rugged, lonely look. “He had very kind eyes. I saw the huge beard first and thought, ‘It’s an older guy.’ But his eyes were so young, and he didn’t have crow's feet. I realized he was a lot younger.” She was concerned though, the way she used to be concerned about her two younger brothers. The trail could be confusing, and it wouldn’t be long before everything started getting intolerably hot and muggy. “I remembered him because I was worried,” she added.

Six months later and 600 miles south, on July 23, 2018, two hikers headed out into the Big Cypress National Preserve. The humidity was oppressive, but they trudged forward, crossing swamps, tending aching feet, and dodging the alligators and snakes. About 10 miles into their journey, they stopped to rest their feet at a place called Nobles Camp. There they saw a yellow tent and a pair of boots outside. Something smelled bad, and something seemed off. They called out, then peered through the tent’s windscreen. An emaciated, lifeless body was looking up at them. They called 911.

“Uh, we just found a dead body.”

IT’S USUALLY EASY to put a name to a corpse. There’s an ID or a credit card. There’s been a missing persons report in the area. There’s a DNA match. But the investigators in Collier County couldn’t find a thing. Mostly Harmless’ fingerprints didn’t show up in any law enforcement database. He hadn’t served in the military, and his fingerprints didn’t match those of anyone else on file. His DNA didn’t match any in the Department of Justice’s missing person database or in CODIS, the national DNA database run by the FBI. A picture of his face didn’t turn up anything in a facial recognition database. The body had no distinguishing tattoos.

Nor could investigators understand how or why he died. There were no indications of foul play, and he had more than $3,500 cash in the tent. He had food nearby, but he was hollowed out, weighing just 83 pounds on a 5'8" frame. Investigators put his age in the vague range between 35 and 50, and they couldn’t point to any abnormalities. The only substances he tested positive for were ibuprofen and an antihistamine. His cause of death, according to the autopsy report, was “undetermined.” He had, in some sense, just wasted away. But why hadn’t he tried to find help? Almost immediately, people compared Mostly Harmless to Chris McCandless, whose story was the subject of Into the Wild. McCandless, though, had been stranded in the Alaska bush, trapped by a raging river as he ran out of food. He died on a school bus, starving, desperate for help, 22 miles of wilderness separating him from a road. Mostly Harmless was just 5 miles from a major highway. He left no note, and there was no evidence that he had spent his last days calling out for help.

The investigators were stumped. To find out what had happened, they needed to learn who he was. So the Florida Department of Law Enforcement drew up an image of Mostly Harmless, and the Collier County investigators shared it with the public. In the sketch, his mouth is open wide, and his eyes too. He has a gray and black beard, with a bare patch of skin right below the mouth. His teeth, as noted in the autopsy, are perfect, suggesting he had good dental care as a child. He looks startled but also oddly pleased, as if he’s just seen a clown jump out from behind a curtain. The image started to circulate online along with other pictures from his campsite, including his tent and his hiking poles.

Kelly Fairbanks works at the Army and Air Force exchange store on a Florida military base. She normally monitors the CCTV cameras for shoplifters, but if there’s no one in the store she might sneak a look at Facebook. It was a quiet moment, and suddenly the picture popped into her feed. There he was: eyes wide open and looking up. She recognized the eyes and the beard. “I started freaking out,” she says. It was the kind man she’d seen on Highway 90. The sheriff’s office had also posted a photo of the hiker’s poles, and Fairbanks knew she had an image of the same man holding the same gear.

She clicked right over to the Collier County Sheriff’s Facebook page and sent in two photographs she had taken of Mostly Harmless. She got a message back immediately asking for her phone number. Soon a detective was on the line asking, “What can you tell me?”

She told him everything she knew. And she shared the original post, and her photo, all over Facebook. Soon there were dozens of people jumping in. They had seen the hiker too. They had journeyed with him for a few hours or a few days. They had sat at a campfire with him. There was a GoPro video in which he appeared. People remembered him talking about a sister in either Sarasota or Saratoga. They thought he had said he was from near Baton Rouge. One person remembered that he ate a lot of sticky buns; another said that he loved ketchup. But no one knew his name. When the body of Chris McCandless was found in the wilds of Alaska in the summer of 1992 without any identification, it took authorities only two weeks to figure out his identity. A friend in South Dakota, who’d known McCandless as “Alex,” heard a discussion of the story on AM radio and called the authorities. Clues followed quickly, and McCandless’ family was soon found.

Now it’s 2020, and we have the internet. Facebook knows you’re pregnant almost before you do. Amazon knows your light bulb is going to go out right before it does. Put details on Twitter about a stolen laptop and people will track down the thief in a Manhattan bar. The internet can decode family mysteries, identify long-forgotten songs, solve murders, and, as this magazine showed a decade ago, track down almost anyone who tries to shed their digital skin. This case seemed easy.

An avid Facebook group committed to figuring out his identity soon formed. Reddit threads popped up to analyze the notes he had taken for Screeps. Amateur detectives tracked down leads and tried to match photographs in missing persons databases. A massive timeline was constructed on Websleuths.com. Was it possible, one Dr. Oz viewer asked, that Mostly Harmless was a boy featured on the show who went missing in 1982? Was it possible that Mostly Harmless was a suspect in Arkansas who had murdered his girlfriend in 2017? None of the photos matched.

The story pulled people in. Everyone, at some point, has wanted to put their phone in a garbage can and head off with a fake name and a wad of cash. Here was someone who had done it and who seemed to have so much going for him: He was kind, charming, educated. He knew how to code. And yet he had died alone in a yellow tent. Maybe he had been chased by demons and had sought an ending like this. Or maybe he had just been outmatched by the wilderness and the Florida heat.

It just wasn’t a normal story in any way. And, as Fairbanks said, “he was a good-looking dude,” which, she notes, might explain why so many of the searchers are women. In mid-October, one woman in the Facebook group posted a slideshow comparing his photos to those of Brad Pitt. “Actually I think MH looks better. 😉,” one commenter wrote.

The dude, though, seemed to have followed, to near perfection, the hiker credo of “Leave no trace.” None of the clues panned out. Nothing actually got people close to solving the mystery. An industrious writer named Jason Nark spent more than a year obsessively tracking down leads and then wrote an elegy to the hiker that began, “Sometimes I imagine him falling through space, drifting like dust from dead stars in the vast nowhere above us.”

Natasha Teasley manages a canoe and kayak company in North Carolina. As business slowed when the coronavirus hit, she started to spend more time online, and she started to fill the gap in her life with the hunt for Mostly Harmless. She sent flyers to the Chambers of Commerce in every city where people thought he might have come from, including Sarasota, Florida, and Saratoga Springs, New York. She tracked down details about every car that was towed out of Harriman State Park, where he likely started his journey. She scoured missing persons databases. I asked her what motivated her to spend so much time looking for a man she’d never met. She responded achingly, “He’s got to be missed. Someone must miss this guy.”

WHEN WE THINK of DNA tests, we normally think of their miraculous ability to give us a yes or a no. The unique thread of base pairs that make us who we are exists in every cell. So we take the genetic information found at a crime scene, or in the saliva on a coffee cup, or on the hand of a deceased hiker. Then we look closely at roughly 20 chunks, or what geneticists call markers, and we search in a database of collected samples to see whether the markers match. Imagine if a book, 1 million pages long but without a cover, washed up on the shore. And then imagine you could scan one page and search all the books in a giant database to see if that exact page appeared. That’s conventional DNA testing.

But DNA also can tell the story of human history. By running a different kind of test, you get beyond yes or no and into a million variations of maybe. The genetic markers in your body are closer to those of your first cousin than your third. And they’re closer to those of your third cousin than your sixth. There’s a little bit of each generation in each of us, from our parents to our great grandparents to the early apes of the forests of Africa. So now imagine that book, and imagine that instead of comparing one page, you could compare everything in the book with everything in all other books, to find similar words, syntax, and themes. You would need complicated math and pattern tracing, but, eventually, you might figure out the author. And so, early in the summer of 2020, the organizers of the Facebook group searching for Mostly Harmless’ identity sent news about the case to a Houston company called Othram. It had been started two years earlier and pitches itself as a one-stop shop for solving cold cases.

Othram’s founder, David Mittelman, is a geneticist who had worked on the original human genome project, and he was drawn to this odd case. The company asks the public for suggestions for mysteries to solve, and that’s one of the best parts of the job. “I like doing the cases from the tip line,” Mittelman told me. “Lab work for the sake of lab work is kind of boring.” If he could crack the hiker’s identity, he’d get attention for his technology. But there was something else, too, drawing him in, a riddle he wanted to answer. The hiker seemed to have found an internet family but had no connection to his real one.

Othram called up the Collier County Sheriff’s Office and offered to help. DNA analysis is expensive, though, and the company estimated that the whole project—from evidence to answers—would cost $5,000. The sheriff's office couldn't spend that much money on a case that involved no crime. But it would love Othram’s help if there were another way to pay for the work. And so three of the great trends of modern technology—crowdfunding, amateur sleuthing, and cutting-edge genomics—combined. Within eight days, the Facebook group had raised the money to run the analysis. Soon a small piece of bone from the hiker was on its way west from Collier County to the Othram labs.

The first step for Othram’s team was to extract DNA from the bone fragment and to then analyze it to make sure they had enough to proceed. They did, and so they soon put small samples of DNA onto glass slides, which they inserted into a sequencer, a machine that costs roughly a million dollars and looks like a giant washing machine made by Apple.

Unfortunately, it’s a washing machine that has a long run cycle. And it doesn’t always work. Sometimes the pages of the book you find are ripped or blurry. Sometimes the process is iterative and you have to tape fragments back together. So, as the sequencer spun, the Facebook hunters fretted that, once again, nothing would come of a promising lead. But by mid-August, Othram had a clean read on the DNA: They knew exactly what combination of As, Cs, Gs, and Ts had combined to create the mysterious hiker. A company spokesperson appeared live on the Facebook group’s page to detail the progress; posters responded with gratitude and euphoria.

Science sometimes gets harder with every step, though, and having the sequence was just the beginning. In order to identify Mostly Harmless, the team at Othram would have to compare his genetic information with other people’s. And they would start with a service called GEDMatch, a database of DNA samples that people have submitted, voluntarily, to answer their own hopes and questions—they want to find a lost half-sister or a clue about their grandpa. That collection of DNA has become a cornucopia for law enforcement. Each new sample submitted provides one more book for the library that can be searched and scoured. It was through this technique that investigators in Contra Costa County, California, found the Golden State Killer in the spring of 2018, connecting a DNA sample of the killer to GEDMatch samples of relatives. Just this past week, Othram helped law enforcement identify the murderer of a 5-year-old in Missoula, Montana, a case that had gone unsolved for 46 years.

It’s been over a month since Othram started looking through the GEDmatch database. It won’t say anything about what it has found, and the Collier County Sheriff’s Office is keeping quiet as well. But one source outside of the company who is familiar with its progress says that, while Othram doesn’t know Mostly Harmless’ name, it has found enough matching patterns to identify the region of the country from which his ancestors hail.

That isn’t sufficient though. Knowing for sure, for example, that his relatives came from Baton Rouge doesn’t mean Mostly Harmless came from Baton Rouge. His parents could have been born there and moved to Montreal. He could have been born in Louisiana and dropped on a doorstep in Maine. But, right now, the data scientists at Othram are combing through all the DNA samples in GEDMatch, looking for patterns and trying to circle closer to his identity. They’re most likely building out a family tree. Let’s say they found someone in GEDMatch whose DNA seems like a fourth cousin of Mostly Harmless, and then perhaps someone who seems like a third cousin. How do those two people connect? Through this sort of slow, painstaking analysis, they can get closer to an answer. Soon they might find his extended family, and then perhaps his parents’ names. And then law enforcement will be able to solve a case that has stumped them for more than two years.

They might get there, and they might not. A source familiar with the work suggests that the earliest we’ll get an answer is December. Unless between now and then, perhaps, someone reading this article or browsing a Facebook group recognizes his face. Or puts together clues that have eluded everyone else. Finally, he won’t be “Mostly Harmless”; he’ll have a real name.

And then, with that mystery solved, a new one will open up. Why did Mostly Harmless walk into the woods? And why, when things started to go wrong, didn’t he walk out?

[vcg73]

Witch!Kurt #43: Reconnoiter

Burt Hummel eagerly offered his home as the coven’s headquarters when Kurt called him to explain that they were ready to move forward. 

Though Kurt had made the call with the intention of convincing his family to leave town for a few days, just to be safe, his father insisted.

“Are you kidding? I was one of the people who fell hardest for Blaine’s fake charm and let that punk sink his claws into my son!” Burt protested hotly when Kurt attempted to tell him that leaving would be safer. “I didn’t listen when my step-son tried to tell me that he thought it was hinky that neither he or Carole were invited to that big hoohaw at Dalton, and that he didn’t understand why you’d agreed to marry someone you weren’t sure you trusted enough to date anymore. I didn’t pay any attention when kids you knew and loved started disappearing, dying, or becoming walking store mannequins. Blaine attacked this town, a town I’ve lived in and loved all my life, and he attacked my family. I’m damned well going to stick this one out with you, Kurt. End of discussion.”

“Dad, this…”

Burt cut him off. “No buts. This is your fight? That makes it my fight. And even if all I’m really equipped to do in this whole witchcraft game is supply house room to the band, I’d still rather do that than to be shut out and left wondering what’s happening. Besides, you’ve all warded this place strongly enough to make Fort Knox look like a piggy bank. Where would I possibly be safer?”

Kurt, remembering how badly Blaine’s magically charged charms had shaken the once solid father-son relationship, not to mention the harm he’d done to Finn, and by extension Carole, could not find it in his heart to argue. His coven had the power to move Burt Hummel out of harm’s way, whether he wanted to go or not, but he and his dad had worked hard these last few months to build and solidify that old bond into something even stronger, to respect and be honest with one another. Kurt had to trust that his dad could take care of himself, just as Burt was doing for him.

A vague part of him feeling amusement over his father’s continued habit of referring to his coven as ‘the band’, Kurt said in a deliberately meek tone, “Dad, I was just going to say that this is really generous of you, and that I think you’re right. I don’t think you’re to blame for what happened, but you do have a stake in this and if it makes you feel better to have us at the house, and to be in on the planning with us, then we’ll come. Thank you.”

“Oh,” Burt said, the righteous indignation fading to sheepish humor as he said, “Sorry. You’re welcome. Uh, when do you think you’ll be here?”

“Next week. Spring Break got delayed after all those storms shut everything down over the winter,” Kurt explained. “We decided that would be the best time. Lima high schools should have already had their Spring Break, so now would be the perfect time to look them over.”

And while this was not how most college students would want to spend their break, converging on a quiet little town in the middle of Ohio to play the role of magical exterminators, not one person in Kurt’s coven had balked at his suggestion. On the contrary, they had all agreed with enthusiasm that surprised him a little. Even with all the help they had given over the past six months, their support still occasionally caught him off guard.

“Great, we’ll be ready for you,” Burt said, sounding far more pleased than most men would at the prospect of having their home overrun by seven additional ‘kids’ and two more cat people.

~*~*~*~*~

A week later, having all arranged to miss a few days of work and other activities, the coven arrived in Lima, backpacks, duffels, sleeping bags, and suitcases in hand. Even those who had the option of staying somewhere less crowded had packed like they really were headed out on vacation somewhere. It made Kurt smile to hear them arguing over who would stay where, and what things they might do while in Ohio.

“Carole and I discussed it with the boys and we decided we’d put most of you down in the basement,” Burt Hummel said above the din of many chattering voices, bringing them to a halt as everyone looked at him. “It’s all finished up, with lights and carpeting and plenty of room.”

The family had spent the past few months renovating the previously unfinished space into a rec room, but then Burt and Carole had discussed it and decided instead to turn it into a new living space for Fam. The basement was large and well insulated, but it had been lacking the comforts of carpet, good lighting, and the finishing of an adjunct room that had been piped by the previous owner for an additional bathroom but never completed. Finishing it up had been a labor of love, and a way for Finn and Sam to feel useful and to have some control in their lives again, as well as a chance to bond anew with the grateful parents.

Kurt had given his Dad the idea for the project during a Skype, pointing out that Sam had once been quite a good handy-man, and knowing how much he himself had loved having the basement of the first Hummel home for his own during high school. It was neither safe nor practical for Sam and Finn to be out on their own for now, but at 22 years of age it also wasn’t fair for them to be living in a small upstairs bedroom under Burt and Carole’s very noses.

“You finished it?” he said, perking up with interest. “Nobody told me! How did it come out? What kind of carpet did you end up choosing? Did you use the privacy screens I suggested to block the laundry area off from the bedroom, or did you actually have to build a new wall?”

Grinning at his son’s eager questions, Burt gave into his impulse to give the bright-eyed young man another hug. No matter how good Kurt’s adult life in New York was, Burt never quite got over missing his little boy. And when Kurt was like this, clasping his hands and bouncing with enthusiasm, he became that little boy again. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?” he asked jovially, leading the way to a closed door next to the kitchen.

Burt, Kurt, Adam, and the rest of the curious coven trooped down a set of wide wooden steps, the latter making appropriate noises of appreciation when Burt flicked a wall switch and led them into a well lit space with a pull-out sofa bed, a couple of comfy looking lounge chairs, and a TV. The floor had been covered in thick, dark blue Berber carpeting, with the center living area covered with an additional wide area rug of tightly woven black and gray that matched the contrasting black and gray walls. It was a surprisingly sophisticated look for something that was to belong, in part, to Finn Hudson.

“This is very chic,” Adam said, not quite able to disguise the astonishment in his voice that told Kurt he had been thinking along the same lines. Adam did not know his new brothers-in-law (For he had come to think of Sam Evans as another of Kurt’s brothers.) very well yet, but he had already noted a distinct leaning toward ‘frat boy’ in both of them.

“It is,” Kurt agreed, looking around with interest and peeping into the laundry area, which had indeed been separated from the rest of the basement by a newly added wall and floored with tightly packed ceramic tiles.

The new laundry room had a door that made it accessible through the garage, so people would not be required to tromp through Fam’s private space to wash their clothes. Behind the laundry area lay the now-finished bathroom, and Kurt gave it an approving nod. They had sacrificed a little bit of bedroom space to expand the room, giving it a row of handsome wooden cabinets beneath the new sink, a glass-paneled shower, tile flooring, a new toilet and several shelves along the wall that were liberally stacked with towels, soaps, and various other hygiene products. There was a large cabinet mirror over the sink, a laundry hamper next to the shower, and even a cute little black iron rack with several reading selections next to the toilet.

Kurt noted that final addition with amusement, recalling his brother’s habit, a very annoying one when they had been sharing a bathroom, of spending what felt like ages reading through magazines while conducting his ‘morning business’. Undoubtedly, this touch had been Carole’s.

“This looks amazing. I have to admit, I was expecting a lot of beige, and way more football and rock posters on the walls,” he said with a smile.

“Maybe we’ll add some,” said Finn, coming downstairs to join the others and giving Kurt a friendly embrace. “We still have to move my old drum-kit out of the garage and put it in here. Mom couldn’t bear to give it away after I died. And Sam wants to put a rack on one wall for his guitars. Burt brought a contractor buddy of his in here to put an extra layer of sound-proofing in the walls before they were sealed and painted.”

Burt raised an eyebrow at his son and said, “George Moore. Same friend I got to help me sound proof our old basement into someplace you could sing your face off at five o’clock every morning, while you were trying on every outfit you owned and dolling up your skin and hair for two hours before school.”

Everyone laughed at Kurt’s acknowledging blush. Maybe Finn had not been the only one with irritating habits in those days.

Sam took over the shared body to say, “We’re gonna put a boss stereo system along that back wall by the dressers, and maybe a computer desk, and I want some bookcases with a reading lamp.”

The switch in control between one man and the other was also a lot faster and easier now than it had been when they were initially merged, and all those listening were interested to realize that they had no difficulty in knowing who was speaking.

Kurt looked at him curiously. He never remembered either of these two having a particular interest in books before.

Reading the question in his eyes correctly, Sam shrugged. “I always liked stories, but I used to feel like it was too much of a bother to decipher all the text to read much. Got a lot of Graphic novels and audio books instead. I mean, I could do it, but it felt too much like homework, y’know?” At Kurt’s nod, he grinned. “We discovered a side benefit of sharing a body. Whatever rewiring of our brains that was required to live this way had some perks. I still have dyslexia, but when Finn is in control I can sort of read through his eyes, and the letters don’t get all messed up. Kind of weird, but it works!”

Finn chimed in. “It makes me like reading for fun a lot more, knowing that I can help Sam do it. English Lit was pretty much the only school subject I always got perfect grades in, so it’s no big deal. Oh, and we’ve discovered that if we concentrate hard, we can do this.”

He lifted his hands, scrunched his brow, and made a shoving motion with his palms out, resulting in the chair he was looking at scooting a couple of feet away.

The witches in the room looked at him with slack-jawed surprise. Sam was a Standard, and since it was his body that Finn’s mind and soul were sharing, no one had expected Finn’s latent magic to translate to this new existence. Sam jumped back in. “This part works no matter who’s in control.”

In demonstration, he stuck his tongue out slightly and frowned hard at the remote control on the little coffee table they had set up next to the couch. It twitched a few inches closer.

“How is that possible?” Kurt asked, looking around the group.

Brittany stepped forward, cocking her head like a curious puppy as she narrowed her eyes and looked Fam over with Sight. “They’re merging,” she said in a vaguely detached tone. “Still Finn and Sam, but Fam is becoming real. At first you were in sort of a disassociative identity situation, with one body but two personalities, and one person had to be fully in control to do anything. Now you’ve adapted to be more like conjoined twins instead. Individual people who happen to share one body, and that body is starting to adapt to both your abilities. Magic comes from the soul, as much as the body. After all, there are plenty of Standards with magical parents, and plenty of witches with no magic in their family trees. Where did they get that if it wasn’t just a natural facet of who they are?”

“So that means even though I’m in a different body, I’m still me, and I’m still a witch.” Finn said. “And that being in here gave Sam a magic transfusion, so now he has it too.”

Brittany nodded. “I think it’s like reincarnation. Different body but you still have echoes of your past life. The power will probably never be strong unless you’re really angry. That might give it a boost, like it did the day you confronted Blaine. But even a little magic can be fun.”

Fam grinned back, clearly liking the idea of being able to move things with their mind, even if it was only ever enough to tug a remote control closer without getting up. “Cool,” they said.

Shaking his head at this, Burt just sighed and picked up his original thread. “Finn and Sam haven’t officially moved down yet, so I figured that as long as nobody minds the occasional clatter of washer/dryer, or the need to share a bed, we can toss a couple of air mattresses down there and fit most of you comfortably. There are still the two upstairs bedrooms for any spillover, particularly if the cat-folk don’t mind shrinking down to a more compact size.”

There were no protests to this idea, and it was quickly decided that all of the girls, plus L.T., would bunk down in the basement room, while Kurt and Adam, along with cat sized Elliott and Sebastian, would stay in Kurt’s old room, and Johnny would bunk in with Fam.

At least, officially that’s how it would be. Kurt knew his friends too well to think that they wouldn’t all end up migrating downstairs to have a gigantic slumber party at least a couple of times. Judging by the amusement dancing in his father’s eyes, he knew it too.  

Food would not be an issue with Brittany and Dani available to conjure up meals, and everyone could pop back home whenever they needed to with a little boost from Santana or Elliott. Even with two and a half bathrooms, the household would be overwhelmed if more than a dozen people were attempting to take turns using them every day.

Altogether it was a good arrangement, and Kurt was happy to have one less thing to worry about.

~*~*~*~*~

The Familiars, it had been decided, would take the first crack at confronting Blaine. Kurt recognized the wisdom of not revealing his hand before it was time, and while Blaine certainly knew Sebastian “Oh, no way in hell am I missing out on this!” Smythe, he had never laid eyes on human Tubbington before; Tubbington having been intentionally stealthy the day he went to check on Blaine and David at ‘Between the Sheets’. While Blaine had met Elliott a couple of times, he would certainly never suspect a black cat of being his ex’s best friend. Kurt had recently been reminded that Familiars had a natural immunity to Wild magic. Therefore, the cats would be the safest advance party to send.

“I want to go too,” Adam said, much to the surprise of his husband.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I won’t be startled by him this time. I think coming up on him so suddenly, like a jump-scare in a film, is what flipped me the last time. I want a chance to see him, and get used to seeing him. If I still can’t deal with that, then I’ll have to stay here when the time comes.”

Adam did not like the idea of being safely tucked out of the way when Kurt went face to face with their enemy, but it was a logical precaution and a generously selfless one. 

Kurt recognized this, knowing that Adam was facing up to the fact that he could become more of a hindrance than a help if his PTSD were to take over during a fight. He kissed him softly and consented to his plan by saying, “You’ll need to disguise yourself before you go.”

“Awe-some hand-bag,” Santana sing-songed, making them both smile.

Sebastian snorted. “And who would carry him? I’m not the man-purse type, thanks. Wouldn’t you rather just change your face and be a stranger? Or do you need us to set up a glamour for that?”

Adam met Kurt’s eyes and said, “That might be necessary. I’ve been practicing my Transmogrification skills a great deal of late, in the event they might be needed, but I’ve always been better at mimicking objects than people.”

“Pretty much the opposite of me,” Johnny said, idly mimicking each of them as he looked around the room, then returning to his own brown-eyed, brown-haired, sharp-featured appearance. “I can do an object if I really concentrate and don’t have to hold it very long, but I have trouble with the weight ratio. People are a snap.”

Adam explained to the puzzled-looking Burt and Carole, “He means that when I transform into an object, I automatically adjust my mass and weight, so it doesn’t matter how large or small the object appears. That’s why no one realized that my body had been secretly disguised as a wall poster while my soul was sent to the Void. To change only my face is harder. Like balancing on tiptoe, juggling oranges, and singing an aria all at the same time. It’s possible, but it doesn’t leave much concentration for other things.”

“Fine, an object it is. We don’t want to put any undue pressure on Adam and there’s no point in making up a fake identity for somebody that Blaine is only going to see for five minutes,” Tubbington said firmly, drawing a grateful look from Kurt. “This is just a test mission to see how things stand, so let’s keep it simple. Adam, make yourself into a pendant so you can get a good look and I’ll take you in myself. Sebastian can carry Elliott.”

“And if you open up your rapport with Kurt, he can see and hear through you,” Brittany added cheerfully.

Every person in the room turned to stare at her.

“Oh. Did you not know that?” she said, eyes innocent. “He couldn’t do it before, or maybe just a little, but I’ll bet he can do it easily now that you’re Joined. Since Kurt has high Potential and a strong gift for Sight, he should be able to see through Adam’s eyes.”

Santana looked at her curiously. “Can you see through my eyes?”

Brittany smiled. “Sure!” she chirped. “I don’t, because it’s not polite if you don’t ask first, but I could.”

Intrigued, she said, “Could I?”

Brittany considered that. She and Santana had never gone through a formal Joining ceremony, but they were as close as any two people, witches or not, could be in spite of it. “Probably not for more than a few seconds,” she said at last. “You have Sight, but it isn’t very strong. I can’t use your Talents for force-fields or transportation either, because I don’t have those even in Potential. Adam and Kurt have Sight in almost the same Potential, plus they experienced the temporary sharing of powers that come with being Joined. The emotional link should do the rest.”

“How does it work?” Kurt asked. “The piggy-backing of Sight.”

Brittany tore her gaze away from her girlfriend’s, then simply reached out the same way she had on the first day Kurt had learned of magic, and touched his temple. “Like that.”

Kurt blinked, finding himself the sudden possessor of instinctive knowledge, just as he had been when she taught him to See his own magical Potential. “Oh. Wow, that’s all?”

“Pretty simple, once you have the power,” she said with a shrug. “You have enough that you might be able to do that with any of us if we were to ground and form a bonding circle, like when you went into the Void, but definitely with Adam. You’ll have to close your eyes though.”

“Do you mind?” Kurt asked, eyes shining with eagerness to try this new bit of magic.

Adam shook his head, equally intrigued. Brittany S. Pierce continued to confound him at times. She seemed so simple, so innocent, and he would find himself lulled into trust of that surface image, only to be suddenly reminded that just beneath it lay a virtual treasure trove of knowledge and magical experience. Sometimes he wondered how much of her gifts were natural, and how much had been conferred through her link with Lord Tubbington, who had likely granted her the inherited experience of several lifetimes as a witch’s Familiar. Nine lives was no joke when it came to cat folk.

Kurt closed his eyes, frowning as he searched for the thread of emotion that always connected the two of them, linked to it, and concentrated. It was a peculiar feeling, trying to activate one’s Sight without actually using your eyes, and he struggled to keep them closed when every instinct told him to open his eyes and see what Adam was doing.

Adam, for his part, turned on his own Sight and walked about the room. He turned his back to his husband and picked up a random object. “Can you see what I’m holding?”

“I think … oh, this is weird,” Kurt said. “You’re holding that beat up old bunny rabbit that Monica sleeps with. I can see it, but it’s like I’m looking at it through a slightly warped piece of glass.” Adam turned to look at him, smiling proudly, and Kurt gasped a little. He broke his concentration and blinked to reorient his eyesight as he opened his eyes and looked at Brittany.

She smiled. “You looked better than the way you normally see yourself, right?” He nodded. “It’s because you were seeing yourself through Adam’s eyes, riding his emotional connection to you.”

Kurt blushed suddenly, looking proud and a little bit awe-struck. “Wow. I suddenly understand why you like to say that I’m beautiful. Want to try it?”

Adam nodded eagerly. Kurt repeated his performance, picking up one of Dani’s favorite necklaces from where it was sitting on a dresser. Adam identified the jewelry with no difficulty, then made a choked sound of surprise when Kurt turned and looked at him. 

“Bugger. Apparently my mirror has been doing me a disservice,” he quipped, making a joke of it but clearly startled by the strong, gorgeous, noble man who stood in his place. Him, but also more than him. He swallowed, knowing that he would remember this moment for the rest of his life, and that he would spend his life doing his very best to live up to the person that Kurt believed him to be. “I can’t wait until you see your dodgy ex the way that I do.”

Allowing the charged moment to fade, Kurt laughed with him. “I suspect he won’t look too good through any of our eyes these days. Let’s go find out.”

THE END

[woo-san-shine]

Our Way

ateez college au

Premise: You and your best friend from high school move away to a university 3 hours away from your small hometown. You find yourself meeting a strange cast of characters along the way that will help you find your way throughout your freshman year.    

Word Count: 2k 

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: A work in progress!!! Mostly just for fun

prev // next 

Chapter 2

Jongho and I begin to make our way towards the entrance of the residence hall.

"I don't think I caught your name," he says to me leaning past one of the boxes he was carrying to look at me.  "Jae, was it?"

"Kim Jaemin, but everyone usually calls me Jae," I reply.  He didn't even look like he was struggling with those boxes at all.

"Nice to meet you, Jae," he smiles back at me.  He adjusts his grip and starts to read the labels I had carefully written on each of my boxes.  Being almost overly organized is one of my many talents. "Kitchen Supplies, Shoes, Art Supplies?  Are you an artist?" he asks.

"Uh yeah, kind of," I answer a little sheepishly.  "I'm studying Graphic Design," I say.  Art was something I never really shared with anyone, except Sooyoung, so people were pretty surprised when I decided to major in something other than music when I went off to college.

"Oh wow, no way!  One of my friends is studying the same thing!" Jongho says excitedly.  "Maybe you'll be in the same class."  He flashes me another smile.

It takes me a second to answer.  His big brown eyes are so earnest. "Oh, yeah maybe.  That would be nice," I reply hurriedly in order to not let him catch me staring at his eyes again.  

We enter the dorm building on the first floor, which has a front desk area, a mailroom, and a common area full of couches, tables and chairs, and a few TVs.  

"Oh good, there's a place for you to get your mail," I hear my mom say from behind me.  "I've already been planning on what I'm going to put in your first few care packages."

I hear a slight chuckle come from Jungho and I shoot him an exasperated look, which makes him laugh even more.

"Elevator this way!" Dad shouts, pointing toward a row of elevators next to the mailroom.  

We pile in with all of my things, Jongho and I pressed towards the back.  "So uh, what are you studying?" I ask trying to fill the silence that had followed us into the elevator.  

"Exercise Science," Jongho proudly states, slightly puffing out his chest.  

"Oh, I can see that," I say without thinking.

"Why is that?" He asks, looking down at me with a raised eyebrow.

Why do I always have to dig myself in a hole?  I quickly think of a response. "Oh, uh, you just look like someone who knows a lot about fitness.  I mean, clearly you take good care of yourself," I say, nodding towards the three heavy boxes in his hands.  My eyes trail his built frame again.    

"Oh, well yeah you're pretty much right," he says with a slight smirk.  "I want to maybe be a personal trainer one day."

To my relief, the elevator door opens on the 7th floor and the four of us start the long trek down what seemed like a neverending hallway of dorm rooms.  

"Room 71024!" I yell towards my Dad who was leading the way with the cart.  

"That's my room," Jungho nods towards a door on the right.  There is a whiteboard hanging from the door with the names 'Choi Jungho' and 'Song Mingi' written in big bold letters.  Mingi must be his roommate.

"Oh, so the male and female rooms aren't separate?" I can hear Dad ask sternly, turning his head back towards Jungho and I.  

"Boys are on the right side and girls are on the left," I reply.  "They told us that when we were here for orientation, Dad"  

He lets out a loud huff and continues to push the cart forward.

"Oh, don't be like that, dear," Mom says, giving my Dad the side-eye.  "But look, here we are!"  She points to one of the last doors on the left side of the hallway.  '71024' is labeled across the top of the door, and another whiteboard hangs from the center with the names 'Kim Jaemin' and 'Choi Sooyoung' written in the same bold lettering.  

I eagerly step forward, key in hand.  "Well, here it goes!" I announce to my excitedly awaiting parents and a smiling Jongho.  I place the key in the lock, turn it once, and slowly open the door.  

The overhead lights are already on as I walk into the room.  The room itself is shaped in pretty much a perfect square, with the left and the right sides practically mirroring each other.  On either side, there are high lofted beds with a desk underneath.  On the far wall, there are two built-in closets with a rack to hang clothes and drawers for more storage.  In between the closets is a rather large window, and below that sits a mini-fridge and microwave on top.  All the furniture is the same dark-brown wooden color with a slightly worn look to it.

"It's...." Dad trails off.

"Cozy!" Mom exclaims, pushing past me to stand in the middle of the room.  "Yes it's a little small, but with all the storage on this wall with the closets, all your stuff will fit so nicely.  We can put the rug right here in the middle, the lamp over here, your coffee pot will look lice atop the microwave, oooh and there's even more storage over by your desk!"

"I love it," I say, still gazing into the room from the doorway.  Yes, it was a little small.  But I had known this going in.  Dunby hall was the largest, oldest, and most inexpensive residence hall on campus.  When Sooyoung and I agreed to live together, we decided on this dorm because it was the most reasonably priced for my family, and it was one of the few dorms that was covered under Sooyoung's scholarship.  She could have easily decided to live in one of the nicer dorms, but she wanted to live with me, and I greatly appreciated her for that.  Yes, its's a bit dingy, but it did have a rather cozy feel to it.  And with the right amount of care, I could turn this room into my new home.  

"Well, that's all that matters," I can hear Dad say from behind me. "But let's get unpacking or we're going to be here all day!"  He nudges me forward with the cart and pushes it into the middle of the room.  My mom immediately begins taking boxes out and finding places to all my things while my Dad begins to put the sheets on my lofted bed.

Amidst all this excitement I had almost forgotten about Jongho.  I quickly turn around to see him standing in the doorway, still holding those three boxes.

"Oh, um, you can just set those here," I quickly say gesturing to an empty corner of the room.  He obeys and gently places the boxes down.  He straightens up and gives me a kind of awkward smile, pushing his bangs out of his eyes again.  "Feels good to finally put those down, huh?" I say.

"Nah, I could've held those for at least another thirty minutes," he answers with a grin.  

I let out a giggle, which I quickly try and disguise as a cough.  

"You have been such a big help, Jungho," my mom says approaching the pair of us.  She grabs his hand.  "Thank you, dear."  She gives his hand a squeeze.  

"Oh, well you're welcome Mrs. Kim.  It really wasn't a problem at all, but I should probably get going.  I still need to unpack all of my things."

"Uh, yeah thanks, Jongho," I add quickly.  I give him a gracious smile, which he returns.  

"No problem, Jae.  I'm sure I'll see you around."  He gives one last bow towards me, my mom, and my dad before turning and exiting the room.  

"Wow, what a nice boy," mom sighs staring at the doorway that Jungho had just walked out off.

"Mom, he probably heard that," I say through gritted teeth.  

"You've said that already, sweetpea," Dad states from atop my lofted bed as he finishes tucking in my sheets.  "But we should really start unpacking everything so this room isn't a complete mess when Sooyoung's family gets here."

We spend the next forty minutes unpacking all of the remaining boxes, hanging my clothes in the closet, and finding room in the desk for my art supplies.

"KIIIIIIIM JAEMIIIIIIIIN!!!!!"

I hear my name echoing along the long hallway and quickly sprint outside the door to see none other than Sooyoung sprinting towards me, leaving her Mother, Father, and older brother in her wake pushing three full carts.

"Well, it's about time!" I shout.  "I was beginning to think you changed your mind!"

We run towards each other and when we finally meet, she practically lifts me off of my feet in one of the biggest I've ever received.  She starts spinning me around and through the blur I see what looks like two heads poking out of a doorway in the same spot that Jongho had pointed to earlier.  Before I can get a good look, Sooyoung sets me down and starts dragging me towards our room.  

"Oh my god I thought we'd never get here," Sooyoung says exasperatedly, still dragging me towards the room.  "We had to stop for gas, the traffic was horrible, and if Taeyoung had listened to me when I told him to take route 71 instead of 75 we'd have been here twenty minutes earlier."  

Typical Sooyoung.  She was the type of person who always thought she was right and if she wasn't, she'd somehow convince you otherwise.  Her whole family was like that though, so I couldn't blame her too much.  Most people found it annoying while I found her stubbornness slightly endearing.

"Wow, is this it?" she says excitedly when she finally reaches the doorway of our room.  "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kim!"  She gives a passionate wave to both of my parents and immediately walks into the room to survey the place.  

"Well if it isn't the Chois," my dad says as he wipes some sweat from his forehead.  

Behind me, I can hear the rest of Sooyoung's family greet my Father and Mother.  Soyoung's parents were significantly younger than mine.  They had Soyoung's older brother, Taeyoung, when they were only 18.  They both put a lot of pressure on Sooyoung and Taeyoung to succeed and have a better life than they did.  Taeyoung is three years older than us and is already a student here at the same university.  Part of me thinks it's a big reason why Sooyoung choose to go here, but I'd never question her about it.  She likes to think that everything she does is her own idea and makes her unique, even when it doesn't

Our families exchange some more pleasant greetings.  

"It's a little small, isn't it?" Mrs. Choi questions after doing a once-over of the room.  "Tae's freshman year dorm was much bigger.

"Yeah," Taeyoung adds.  "This one definitely looks like it's been lived it."

"I mean, all of them have been lived in," I can hear my Dad mutter from the corner of the room.  

"Oh come on, Mom." Sooyoung shakes her head towards her Mother.  "I like it a lot.  I like what Jae has done with the room so far.  Plus, you can't complain too much right?  I basically get to live here for free on my scholarship!"  Sooyoung beams, looking proud of herself.

"Well, we should probably get out of your hair for a little bit so you all can fully unpack," Dad says placing a hand on my shoulder.  "We need to go get some lunch and stop by the grocery store and stock that minifridge over there."

"Yeah, we'll be back in a little bit!" Mom cheerily says, grabbing her purse and heading towards the door.  

"See you guys later," I say, waving at the Chois.  They wave back and immediately begin unpacking and organizing all of Sooyoung's belongings.

My family and I make our way down the long hallway and into the elevator. Once inside my Dad lets out a loud sigh.

"Man, those Chois really don't have a filter do they."

"Oh come on now, dear," my mom says putting an arm around my father and resting her head on his shoulder.  

"Sooyoung has to get it from somewhere, I guess," I add before I can stop myself.

Mom and Dad both laugh.  I join in, a little guiltily.  

prev // next