#it's been years since learning this stuff in college though so i could be wrong

[simpjaes]

i feel like a stalker reader fic with a plot twist of sunghoon being a stalker even before reader was obsessed with him (kind of like a mastermind where he plotted how and when they would meet first) AND A FREAKY ONE AT THAT is only a fic that you could possibly write

and you're right about that bc i do believe i'd slay that shit if I ever got around to it.

a/n: this was meant to just be a thought but i got a lil lost in it lmfao.

Like, the idea of Sunghoon being obsessed with you since fuckin' senior year of high school because he transferred there. He was vulnerable when he transferred due to home life stuff forcing the move, and he had close to no one save for a dad who was never home. You were the first person to say hello to him and that singular greeting made him grow attached.

and he'd like, watch week after week. sometimes you'd greet him in passing but never really approach him or anything. he would be too far attached already to approach you himself too, because he feels socially awkward. he is socially awkward. No one back at home liked him much either so his confidence isn't quite high enough to peruse you.

anyway, shoot to college. maybe....he's been like...yknow....doing his research on you since he transferred back in highschool. maybe he's doing the same degree path as you.....maybe he did some snooping to land in the same university, taking the same classes....at the same times as you.........

he's grown very smart about this tho bc like, you'd never second guess why you're always seeing that handsome guy everywhere. maybe you guys are just more alike than you could have thought. and you wouldn't grow your own little crush turned obsession until he you noticed how he ignored you.

you never saw him glance or stare. he'd brush you off any time you try to greet him, he'd always speak in class with confidence, making you feel like he's...very very very intelligent. and it's like, woah, he acts so different compared to high school. you're into him kinda....there's nothing wrong with a lil crush right?

lil crush turns HUGE crush when he ends up at all the same parties you attend. always lurking in a corner by himself looking handsome and untouchable, sometimes with other girls approaching him. these are the moments you'd catch his drunken eyes on you from time to time. Or maybe he's just catching you staring. you're not sure of yourself anymore by this point.

still he wouldn't make any moves or efforts to talk to you. little crush turns to big crush. big crush turns to you wanting to learn more about him...and learning more about him turns to you consistently checking in on his social medias that he rarely updates....asking about him around campus when you manage to land in a room where he isn't, hoping he shows up to more parties..etc.

you wouldn't realize the stalker behavior you're exhibiting til it was too late. he'd be all too fond of it though, knowing he's managed to catch your attention by giving you none at all. what a needy little doll.

It's not until you dead ass find out where he works part time and you're filling out your own application before you realize that maybe you're going a bit too far. when he ends up being there during your interview though, you're a bit too blinded by wanting to know more about him to think too hard about it.

and so, the two of you are working together, going to classes together, attending parties together...except separate. and it's driving you up a fucking wall because surely it's because he has a girlfriend right? but you never see her. you can't find any trace of someone he's with on social media. never on campus, at work, no where. so, lets say you guys end up at a party again and you really do lose it.

lots of alcohol in your system, sunghoon looming in a corner, side eyeing pretty girls who stare at him. you'd be the one staring the most, walking up to him while forgetting how to breathe, only realizing you might actually be in love with him when you try to reach for his shoulder with a brain so empty you forgot what you wanted to say. "Hm?" he'd hum at you with a raised, unbothered brow. His skin prickling at the way your shaking hand grabs at him. He calms himself through it though, having jerked off enough to the mere thought of these hands on him nightly since he met you. He knows how to calm down now. "I'm like, in love with you, maybe." You'd slur out, stupidly with an embarrassed but hopeful expression. Sunghoon's unbothered demeanor wouldn't change, but the setting would. He'd take your hand and guide you without a word, outside, into his car, and he wouldn't say a anything to you through it until he'd driven and parked somewhere entirely secluded. [He's sober btw, you make him drunk enough.] "Do you even know how much I want you?" He'd mumble so quietly you wouldn't be able to hear him over the thumping of your heart, but you stare at him, watching his lips move as he tries to speak. You watch him the whole time, feeling safe in this secluded spot with a man you've grown obsessed with. Your body reacts and moves on instinct as he sits there. You can't fucking stand being so close yet so far from him. "I don't know what you're saying to me." You'd mumble and slur out to him, far too drunk than you originally thought now that there is no loud and booming music to drown your thoughts out. "You never do." He frowns, leaning towards you and practically pinning you to your seat by energy alone. His entire body feels like it's on fire, cock twitching, heart jumping. "You want me?" You nod, breathing softly and deeply as you look at him. Of course you want him. "How bad?" He follows up. "As badly as I've wanted you?" You nod again. "You sure?" Another nod.

His eyes go vacant now as he stares at you, adjusting his body on top of yours in the cramped space of his car. You feel his nose nuzzle against your neck as he inhales deeply. He groans slightly at the scent, never able to smell you so fully except for in passing. This alone could satisfy him for life if he wanted it to. "Show me then." He nearly demands, wanting you to be the one to prove all of his work to get to this point is truly coming to fruition. Wanting you to make all of the first moves. Wanting you to do it all for him.

And, well...you do.

[pigeonclaw]

First a mountain lion, now raccoons. Who keeps bringing these North American animals into Britain to terrorize the local feral cats. Very rude.

[lowkeychenle]

masterlist + all about me (and nct dream)

hi everyone! name change/rebrand alert ;)

prev @/lowkeyjaemle, now @/lowkeychenle :D

i'm juls (as some of you already know) and my ult group is NCT Dream! i'm chenle biased (this will never change lol) and the majority of my blog is also chenle biased lol.

i do not have a bias wrecker. chenle is safe (although jisung is my #2, which just makes sense bc chenji is a package deal okay).

i'm 23 years old, and my pronouns are she/her. now that all this intro/boring stuff is out of the way, please keep reading for my updated masterlist ;)

p.s. if u are also a chenle stan, there are so many chenle fics here just for u

AY YO! MDNI >:(

text!au masterlist | smau masterlist

labyrinth (M) fic teaser

Chenle was more complex than you originally gave him credit for, and unfortunately for you, that would be your downfall. Lost in the labyrinth, you’ll always struggle to find your way out when the rose-colored glasses don’t let the light shine through.

the hardest part (M)

You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.

Some Things Can't Be Taught (M)

In which you are failing college physics, and your childhood best friend offers up one of his friends as your tutor—except, there’s a little something he wants to learn from you in exchange.

Guilty As Sin? (M)

Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin? (based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)

And Then It Was (M)

After your marriage with Chenle was arranged by your parents for a company merger, things with him aren't quite like you expect. In your life full of obligations, he's determined to finally give you the ability to make your own choices. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Cruel Summer (M)

He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

See My Sea (M)

You never expected your lab partner to be the captain of the basketball team...or a decent human being, but you get proved wrong twice. Despite a rocky past of your own, you find yourself falling for him faster than you thought. Maybe, with his help, you can finally find your way home and see your sea. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Like We Just Met (M)

Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever. (smut/fluff) *WC>10k

SOS (M)

Road trips with Chenle are your favorite thing. Late at night, the two of you stop at a hotel, but it's not everything it seems to be. You barely have time to settle before you get a call to evacuate immediately. Beneath red neon flashing lights, you and Chenle have to try and escape the group of people hunting you down. (suspense/thriller/smut)

this is me trying (M)

Meeting Chenle was a fluke--a good one, at that, but you never expected things to escalate the way they did. But despite the whirlwind romance, you'd go back to December if you had the chance... (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Is It Over Now? (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over? (angst/smut) *WC>10k

Within the Piano Keys (M)

For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word…or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you. (smut/fluff/angst) *WC>10k

Paris (M)

Pure smut on a hotel room balcony in Paris! Woo. (smut)

Sunshine (M)

You're not usually able to wake up with Chenle due to his schedules, but on the days that you can, it's certainly worth it. (smut/fluff)

Quiet Down (M)

You and Chenle visit your parents, but he just can't help himself... (smut)

You're Not Sorry

You and Chenle broke up two weeks ago. The first time he calls you at 3am, you ignore it. Then he calls again. You answer, and you go to him knowing there's nothing he could do to fix what he's broken. (angst)

The Last Straw (M)

Chenle has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Being in love with him isn't easy, until you find out he reciprocates those feelings (thanks to Cockblocker!Jaemin). (smut/fluff/angst)

Chilled Nights, Fogged Windows (M)

After being gone for weeks, the first thing Chenle wants to do is get ice cream with you. One thing leads to another, and suddenly, you're in the backseat (oooops). (smut)

In Your Dreams (M)

What started as innocent phone sex hotline stuff (if that can ever really be innocent?), you get an offer you just can't refuse...you just have to be a little sleep deprived ;) (Chenle as Freddy Kruger Halloween thing lol)

Irrevocably (M) Series Masterlist

You were friends with benefits with Chenle until he got a girlfriend...fast forward months later, and now they've broken up--leaving Chenle to come back to you, very much in need of a distraction. (angst/smut/fluff)

Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle AU] Series Masterlist

Your relationship with Jaemin started out simple--friends with benefits with zero complications...until there was one. That complication's name is Zhong Chenle, and after Jaemin agrees to expand your exclusivity deal to involve him, there's only one logical thing left to do... (smut)

모래성 (ONE) (TWO) (THREE)

You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison. (smut/angst)

Late Nights (M)

Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep. (fluff/smut)

Empire State of Mind (M) (Feat. Jisung)

Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him. (smut/angst)

Lost & Wayward Mini-Masterlist

After the worst couple weeks of your life, you finally break down in the middle of an alleyway. Jaemin hears you and comes to comfort you, and little do you know, he's about to change your life--in more ways than one. (fluff/smut/angst)

[countrymusiclover]

1 - Professor Reid

Part 2

Detective Stabler’s Daughter

Here's the first chapter and as always if you have anything you'd like to see. I always leave my stories open for suggestions.

“Are you sure you have your pepper spray?” My father Elliot asked me like the tenth question in the car driving me from our house to my college where my younger sister Kathleen was going to be attending this year.

Sending my dad a glance he was panicking far too much about this, especially since it was my senior year there and nothing bad has ever happened. “Dad, please calm down.”

“You know if anything goes wrong, call 911.” He added another point not hearing me.

I sighed, slumping my shoulders. “Dad! It’s my senior year. I will be perfectly fine.”

“I deal with the worst people in the city, honey. I just don’t want something to happen to you when I’m not there to protect you.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel waiting for the light to change green.

We finally pulled up in the parking lot outside the building of my first class. We had already moved my stuff in my dorm but my parents also said if I wanted to come home for a while I could. Getting out of the car I went around and hugged my father when he got out of the car. “Don't worry so much. Besides I'll have my sister here to have my back.”

“Y/n. Dad!” We turned our heads seeing my sister running towards us across the parking lot.

I broke the embrace from him, engulfing her in a tight hug. “Kathleen!”

“I've missed you.” I squeezed her tightly back even though we had only been apart a week since she moved in a week earlier being a freshman.

We finally broke our hug turning to face our father. He was standing in front of us simply just staring at us. He was always overprotective of every single one of his children. “You two need to stay in constant contact with each other. If you can’t reach the other, tell me or your mother immediately.”

“We know dad.” I grumbled loving him but this was a tad much.

Kathleen walked up to him, hugging him. “Dad, stop being such a worrier. Y/n and I will be fine without you breathing down our necks.”

“I love you both - uh I better get to work.” His phone vibrated in his pocket when he broke the hug with her. He began walking away from us pointing his index finger at us rounding the corner out of our sights. “Be responsible. Both of you.”

Kathleen and I said in unison, looping arms with each other heading off in the direction of our first class of the school year. “Love you dad.”

My sister and I entered the building seeing that the room was shaped like theater seating that were slightly surrounding the professor desk and large white board. We decided to sit in the second row seating in the middle for the best view, but where we didn't come off as so eager to learn. Reaching inside my backpack I drew out a light green notebook. “So do you have your sights on getting a boyfriend before you leave here?”

“What no.” I whipped my head around at my sisters question.

She huffed. “Why not?”

“Because I have been perfectly happy doing my college years without a boyfriend and I'm quite sure I can finish out my last one without one.” I explained to her sitting some pencils beside my notebook.

My sister clicked her tongue. “That's my goal for you this year. To get you a boyfriend.”

“How about you focus on your studies.” I reminded her.

The rest of the classroom began filling up with people before a different door was opened and closed behind the person who walked in. The guy that I assumed could only be our professor sat down on a satchel on the long desk. “Good afternoon class. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. You can call me Professor Reid.”

“He’s cute.” I heard one of the girls in front of us.

I picked up my pencil marking notes for myself across the syllabus we had to have printed out before the first day of class and already read over it. “Awe.” Another girl rested her chin in the palm of her hands.

“I assume you all have read the syllabus but if you have any questions feel free to ask.” The professor explained brushing his hands over his clothes. He was wearing a gray shirt underneath a black suit jacket and some brown dress shoes.

Kathleen tapped my shoulder trying to talk to me. “They are right. He is rather cute.”

“Sssh Kath.” I warned her wanting to pay attention instead of gossiping.

“Okay let’s take a moment now to discuss the difference between a trigger and a stressor.” Professor Reid began the lecture for our first day of class. “A trigger is a sensory event experienced by an offender that precipitates subsequent behavior whereas a stressor is a longer term pattern of behavior or circumstances which pushes a person into behaving differently than they normally would.”

Some of the other girls in the class began twirling their hair and giving him the doe eyes, clearly not paying attention to what he was saying. “You’re probably gonna wanna write this down. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I’m definitely putting this on the final.”

“I’m only auditioning this class.” My pencil moved across the page taking down detailed notes until a girl with long black hair raised her hand in the air.

Our professor raised a brow. “Is anyone else auditioning this class?”

“Oh man. He’s definitely cute.” Kathleen mumbled under my breath.

I rolled my eyes at her statement seeing most of the girls in the class raise their hands answering his question. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Okay - unfortunately that is all the time we have for today. Thank you guys, class dismissed.” He paused, eyeing his wrist watch and dismissing the class earlier than the end time that was listed.

Kathleen began putting her stuff away getting to her feet to leave like most people were. “Cool. Out of class early on the first day. Can you show me around the campus?”

“Yeah sure.” I answered her.

I heard our professor’s voice call out to me suddenly. “Excuse me, miss. Can I talk with you for a second?”

“Uh me?” I turned my body around, eyeing him standing down by his desk.

He nodded yes to me. “Yes.”

“Oooh already in trouble on day one.” Kathleen teased.

I glared at her, waving her off and gathering my stuff to go meet him down at his desk. My sister slipped out the double doors into the hallway. “I’ll find you later. Hi Professor Reid, you wanted to speak with me.”

“I noticed you and your friend were the only ones really paying attention in my lecture today.”

I made a simple noise at his point. “Oh.”

“I just wanted to say thank you. It was kinda embarrassing to learn that the majority of girls in here are auditing my class.”

Hugging my notebook closer to my chest I sent him a kind smile not expecting him to admit that it affected him. “Well uh - thank you for saying that, Professor.”

“Call me Spencer - um only if you want to - if we’re talking like this. Never mind, I shouldn't have said that. That was very unprofessional of me Ms.-“ He stuttered on his words, shifting from foot to foot.

I felt my face turn red at what he had just said until I shook my head pushing whatever I was feeling away since I was a student and he was a professor. “Stabler, Y/n Stabler. I’ll - uh see you tomorrow Professor Reid.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Stabler.” He replied watching me exit the classroom while I peaked over my shoulder sparing him one glance before I was out of sight.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list - send an ask to be added @hiireadstuff

[kedreeva]

as someone who is ace and entering college years, how has your dating life been as an ace? what other struggles have there been that you have advice for? i dont know any aces or similar around me older or otherwise. thank you for your time and i hope you have an easy day!

Okay this will get a little long so I'll put it behind a cut

Honestly I'm probably not the best person to ask, since I never really...struggled? Not specifically with asexuality or with anything related to it. I can tell you my experiences, though, and you can decide if there's anything worthwhile to take away from it!

I grew up in a house run by science and math. I knew the prefix a- meant without/not and I knew there was heterosexual and bisexual and homosexual, so when young and, importantly, before really ever interacting with other queer folk, I went Ah ha, these are (prefix)(sexual) and so therefore I am asexual (without sexuality), and that was that. That was literally all the thought I gave to it. People had crushes on other people, I didn't have crushes on people, end of story. If, for some reason, I developed a crush on someone, I would deal with it then.

Maybeeeee midway through HS, a very good friend of mine asked me about it, and I said well, some people like everyone the same, and I dislike everyone the same. And she said well, then it sounds like you like everyone the same, that amount is just zero, so that seems like bisexual? (she didn't know the term asexual was an actual sexuality term either at that point, just the biological term for reproduction and, well, I could reproduce theoretically so couldn't be that) And I said well, alright then, and called myself bisexual for the next 6 or 7 years. THEN I found out asexuality is a sexuality not just a mode of reproduction and I said Ah Ha, I was Correct, and that was that again.

So I guess if I was offering advice it would be... you know you. Don't let someone else tell you about you if you think they're wrong. Make up a word if there isn't one. Use a new word if you find one that already exists and fits.

Also, that it's fine to not worry about it. Literally it's fine to just never think about it if you have better things to do. I think a lot of people get really wrapped up in finding the right label and/or "what happens if-" when like... you're not a canned good. You don't need a label. Worry about what-ifs when they come up, don't borrow anxiety if you can help it.

I dated a few people in HS, like... three people I think, and one Almost. One predatory mistake I thankfully recognized (HEY because I had older folks online I could talk to about it!) and got out of quickly, and one hot mess relationship that was a LOT of fun- my boyfriend, Sark, and then his ex-girlfriend, and then I stepped out so they could get back together, and then they said wait no, and invited me back in, and that went on for most of the end of HS, and nearly into college, when I stepped out again (and peacefully, I am still friends with both of them and I married Sark in the end). There was one guy whom I was always, perpetually, extremely fond of, and we hung out a lot, kissed once, and I think we would have had a lot of fun dating, but ultimately it was a near miss that became a fond memory, because we were never in the right place together. Sometimes life does that, and that's okay, too.

In college, I simply didn't date anyone. I had better things to do. I met my best friend, @idkfandomwhatever, online that year (and still talk to her almost daily, sometimes for hours, despite that we are on opposite sides of the world!!), and in person @mishapeep who was the best roomie I ever had (hi!!!!! i love you!!!). I had great friends, I went on a TON of adventures, worked a cool job where I had awesome coworkers, and just all around had a blast learning stuff and napping in sunbeams or on couches at the food court. A couple of guys made passes, and I turned them down because I just wasn't into it, and we remained friends. There was one coworker at my dispatch job that I got along with like a house on fire, and everyone ELSE thought we should be dating, but neither of us ever brought it up- I can't say why he didn't for sure, but I know I never brought it up because I was 85% sure he didn't swing for the right team to date me, which I ALSO never brought up until he found me on facebook years later to tell me about his husband running for local election somewhere. so. again, don't let anyone else tell you what to do lol there was ALSO another guy that I had NO interest in that spent a lot of time around me, but we mostly sat in my bunk watching Queer as Folk, which I KNOW was his first exposure to queer material. I never talked about queer stuff with him otherwise, but I heard from a mutual friend of ours that he's also happily married to his husband. Sometimes just being yourself, openly and without shame about it, does more than you think, even if it's not doing anything directly for you (but it is, it's good for you too).

SINCE college ended, I dated one guy I met through an online game and that was great in person briefly, but ultimately didn't work out because he couldn't be a nice person, another guy I met through the same online game and that didn't work out at ALL in person, and then I started hanging out with Sark and co again. I was on the phone with him driving somewhere, and I said something to the effect of someday you're gonna find a gf and she's not gonna want you to keep going on adventures with your ex, and we won't be able to talk anymore and I had a real recordscratch moment where I realized absolutely NOT on MY watch, I wanted that boy in my life forever actually, and we've been married now for... this is year 8.

I may have landed in a soft place, but I didn't seek it out. I just lived my life and didn't worry about my sexuality or about who I was or wasn't gonna date. When I DID date, I was up front about what I wanted from any of those relationships and part of the problem with the relationships that didn't work out was sometimes that I did not KNOW what I wanted, yet. But, it was IMPORTANT I think, that I gave the chances I did, because I did learn about myself and what I wanted. That's probably the hardest fucking thing to learn, that relationships sometimes happen not because they're likely to be permanent, but because it may be fun or be a way to learn what you do or don't want. Maybe alongside of that, the lesson that it's okay to go "hm, actually this is Not For Me" and exit peacefully whenever possible. But it's okay to give temporary things a shot and see how it goes, even knowing up front it may be temporary (honestly maybe that even takes some of the stress of it off? if you don't have to worry about it being forever, and you don't have to worry about "what if I never experience other things," and you don't worry so much about messing it up so it feels easier to take chances saying and doing stuff you might otherwise consider too risky to ask for etc).

I'm aware I'm lucky that things went pretty smoothly for my entire life so far, insofar as dating or sexuality is concerned. Part of that was definitely because even the worst of the people I dated weren't really all that bad of people. A lot of it was that I just didn't date if I didn't want to. I didn't care about sex, so I didn't have sex for the first time until a few years after college, and only one guy ever pushed the issue at all (the guy in HS I immediately dropped all contact with).

The thing is... I dated or nearly dated like ten people, flirted with countless others (because it's FUN), and the only one I still have regular contact with (not just occasional friendly hellos) is the one I kept at the end.

But the friends I made in college? I kept a lot of those. I still talk to several of my college friends on a regular basis. I have made other friends since, some of whom I talk to every day, some of whom have become irregular contacts I am still fond of. But those bonds are important and the ones you make with your friends from here out do have the potential to span at least huge chunks of your life, if not the entirety of it. If you only take away one thing from this little novel...take that knowledge.

also this has nothing to do with asexuality but for pete's sake find SOME kind of hobby club to be a part of, or make one if there isn't one, follow your stupidest instincts for adventure on occasion (like playing freeze tag frisbee in a lightning storm on the PAC lawn at 11pm until the campus cops show up to make you go home), and take at least one "fuck it this sounds fun" class. Mine was archery at 7am, the only early-morning class I ever took. Worth it, we were all TERRIBLE but god it was awesome.

Good luck out there!

[gisellecnz]

Hello everyone, I just want to confess something... I just felt like I did the most worst crime ever. (I'm sorry if how I'm writing this whole thing looks immature? and also on how I've been using wrong words to use. 😭) And it is something I want to start avoiding from now on.

As you can see, I am a minor. Yes a minor, probably way younger than you think... 😭 (but not too young though. I just don't want to tell my actual age.) (And also please continue reading before you do anything)

Ever since pandemic, its where people have been quarantined inside their homes for like, 2-3 years, right? And because of that most people do then was just be on their phones all the time.

I also did that–and now I've been exposed and influenced to a lot of things especially on social media. (I had unrestricted internet access ever since I was a kid)

I currently think about it a lot of times now, and it's actually so bad about how I got exposed by a bunch of things...even though I was so young. (like dirty jokes, etc.) And I think I have grown up way too fast... You can see it in how I typed in my other posts, and it's now how I naturally type. 😭

(Okay, I don't know how to explain this part well... Generally, I'm very bad at explaining. But I hope you guys somehow understand 😭. ) (Please ask me questions if there are things you don't quite understand, I don't really elaborate well when it comes to these stuff)

That was also the time i grew an obsession over anime. And I also had crushes on anime characters to the point I figured out people wrote fics about them. Like, "[character name] x reader" and then boom I figured about smut.. Pls 😭 I really didn't care about the "mdni" warning back then. (I don't know if I'm using this term right, but it's something like I got hypersexual? I'm sorry, but I think it's just something similar to that.)

And now I've become a writer as my hobby, I downloaded tumblr almost a year ago so that I could post my works and also read others fics.

And ever since yesterday i had realized something 😭. And I am so sorry about my behavior on this. Even though I'm not in the right age yet, I still readed smut. And smut is like.. Considered porn right? And most of the authors I follow, or people ive talked to in tumblr are like around 19+. Others are even in college and have their own jobs too. And one of my favorite authors is like 12 years older than me. And some authors I follow also write smut. I also ignored mdni parts in their works. 😭

So this is basically what happened (because I am very bad at explaining so I just put it like in a story way):

I am a minor who reads smut, which are only intended for adults. I knew it wasn't appropriate for me but I just brushed it off.

And then one day when I realized I was talking to older people, something clicked in my mind 😭. They are ADULTS. They are in the appropriate age to read smut. (I mean, of course, but I just brushed it off back then.) Then they had "mdni" in their bio. So, that realization made me uncomfy 😭. It's like I made a really huge crime. And I've also become an author on this app, I can't just go on without telling the truth. From now on I'll try to avoid reading smut. Guys it's basically like you're an toddler who suddenly gained consciousness

Again, I am very very sorry for just brushing off the mdni back then 😭. But I'll still continue to read the sfw ones only.

To the other authors there who write sfw and nsfw, please I promise you that I will only read the safe ones now and not the nsfw anymore. 😔 

But it is definitely okay if you want to block me. Thank you for reading this whole explanation! I've learn my lesson now 😭

I just readed this whole thing again and I realized how messy it looked... But either way I can't change it because its the most best way I explained this 😔

[hoedamn-eron]

he found the box of condoms - part 2

You’re telling your parents and Paul about your relationship with your neighbour; who happens to be your best friend’s father.

Warnings: Age gap, but it is appropriate/legal. Some swearing, from a very angry Paul. An awful lot of dialogue. I have never seen nor read Dune (yet), so there may be some inaccuracies (Duke and Paul being OOC, stuff like that), but it's Modern!AU anyway. Slightly proof-read, as per usual. Word count: 2,815 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Finally this is out! This isn't my best work and I was conscious I hadn't actually posted for a while so I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. Apologies to everyone! Also, this may have suddenly turned into a 3-parter.

Part 1 ● Part 3

Your parents were always supportive of you, whatever you wanted to do.

From when you didn’t want to go to college to travel, when you took up those piano lessons before deciding to give them up; they even supported you when you were fifteen and made the bad decision to go to that house party where the police were called. Of course, your parents weren’t exactly happy with the outcome, but they were firm believers that you could make decisions for yourself, whether they were right or wrong. You had always dealt with the consequences of your own actions, you’d always learned from them.

They were never really ‘disappointed’ in you; or if they were, they’d never said it out loud. You were terrified of doing so, since they had been so encouraging of you, and giving you the freedom you had. Now, though, as you prepared to tell them that you were in a relationship with a man twenty years older than you, who happened to be their very good friend, you were terrified they wouldn’t be able to look at you the same. Not that there was anything they could do about it, you were both adults. And it was your relationship.

And really, it was 2022, age gaps in relationships was becoming more the norm. If your parents -

“Is that okay for you, honey?”

Your mother was looking at you with a questioning look on her face, glass of red wine in her hand. You were having dinner with your parents, having decided to let them know about Leto. You and Leto. You and Leto being a couple. Your nerves had kicked in as soon as your mother called everyone into the kitchen to plate up and you had merely picked at your food since, a heavy feeling in your stomach, making you feel nauseous. You just knew your parents were going to flip out over it.

You stare at your mother again as she called your name. Your eyes widened. She was talking about something. What was it?

“Sorry?” you asked, realising you had taken too long to answer.

“You’re going to travel up with me and your dad for Rebecca’s wedding?”

Rebecca was your older cousin. Her and James had been together for five years before they got engaged, before finally deciding to actually plan the wedding two years afterwards. Now your family was treating this wedding like it was the next Royal Wedding, so everyone was going to be there. You were going to sit out, you were never overly close to Rebecca, since she was a few years older than you and you hardly saw her, since she lived a few states away, but your parents were keen for you to join them.

You knew why. Although supportive in your decisions, your parents were still traditional in the sense that they hate to see you ‘on your own’. They were not-so-secretly hoping you would start settling down soon, and thinking about your future, maybe getting married and having a family of your own (they had been mentioning grandchildren a lot recently) but would they still feel the same knowing that you’d been seeing Leto Atreides? Because you hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Of course you really liked Leto, it wasn’t just a passing fling, you’d been together for seven months already.

But surely it was far too early to think about that. You cringe at the thought of having to explain to your parents that you just might not want children. Would Leto even want kids anymore, he’s twenty years older than you? Would he even want to get married? He’d said so himself, after losing Paul’s mother, it took him a long time to even start considering dating again, never mind marriage. And you were only twenty-five, nearing twenty-six, and you didn’t quite have a career yet, you weren’t even remotely thinking about extending your family. Would your parents understand, if you didn’t want children? Regardless of if you wanted them or not, Leto and your father had been friends since Leto moved to the neighbourhood, and you were his child, would your parents even accept that you would even have children with Leto?

You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re panicking. Your parents haven’t even said anything yet. You need to get a grip.

You’ve taken too long to answer your mother again.

“Do I get a plus one?”

Your mother raises her eyebrows at you as your father stopped eating, also looking at you with a look on his face that you can’t quite distinguish. You looked between your parents with an unsure look on your face before your mother clears her throat and answers, “Unfortunately not, but was there someone you were thinking of asking to come along?”

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. Your mouth was open but nothing was coming out. Your parents were staring at you expectedly, not trying to push you but you could see how curious and more worried they became as time went on.

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands, leaning your elbows on the table. This might be easier if you didn’t look at them. “You can’t be mad at me because I’m a grown adult and I’m working with a full-time job and I nearly have enough to move out – “

“Where’s this going?” your dad asks, his usual no-beating-around-the-bush tone.

You swallow thickly. Just tell them. It’s not like you were hooked on drugs or doing God-knows-what at God-knows-what-time (not that you were an adult, like you said. Plucking up the smallest amount of courage you have, you blurt out. “I’mseeingsomeone.”

Your parents stare at you before your mother grinned, your father chuckling and going back to his food. “Oh honey, we know.”

Your mouth falls open as you look between the two. “You…you know?”

“You’re not exactly smooth about it,” said your dad. “You’re sneaking out like you used to do in high school. You don’t have to do that, anymore, you know.”

Was this a joke? Some sort of trick? You felt a cold chill go down your spine, and you were still sweating. They were acting way too calm about it. They’d already gone back to eating, so nonchalant about the whole thing. How long had they known about you and Leto? Why hadn’t they ripped you a new one when they found out? Your dad was ex-military, you were sure he was going to storm over next door, all gung-ho, guns a-blazing.

“So…you’re both okay with it?” you look between both of them, who were both still casually eating their food.

“Why wouldn’t we be okay with it?” your mother asked. “Like you said, you’re an adult and we trust you. You’re being safe though, yeah?”

“Oh God, mom, yes,” you said, feeling your cheeks burning as you avert your eyes.

“Well that’s all we ask for,” she replied, giving you a smile.

“So when do we meet him?”

You look at your dad with wide eyes. “Pardon?”

“Your new boyfriend, when do we get to meet him?”

Oh shit, they didn’t know as much as you thought.

“So you don’t…know who he is, then?”

“Why would we know?” your dad asked.

Your mother suddenly gasped. “Oh my goodness, is it Paul?” your mother laughed. “I always thought you two would be cute together, but you’d always said you were just good friends!”

You were already shaking your head. “N-no, not Paul. He’s got a new girlfriend.”

Oh God, what do you do?

You can’t lie to them, because you’re a terrible liar and they always know when you’re fibbing. They were expecting it to be someone they might know, someone your own age. Oh this was such a bad idea to do this today, you should have waited until you’d moved out. You couldn’t bear to think about the looks your parents would give you until you do.

“If it’s not Paul, then who is it?”

You had almost forgotten what you were doing and your mother’s question made you jump. You looked at your parents, who were looking at you with raised eyebrows. You had obviously taken too long to answer them. Again. You were getting a headache.

“I-I don’t want you guys to be weirded out by it, but I know you will.” You swallowed nervously, your throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry. “Just know that it…I like this guy a lot and it’s becoming a bit more serious – “

“Just tell us who it is, honey,” your mother said, looking at you nervously.

You clear your throat, averting your gaze to your mostly untouched plate of food. It was now or never. “It’s…it’s…uh, it’s – “

“You’re fucking my dad!?”

Paul had fantastic timing.

You hadn’t even heard him come in. You looked over at Paul, who was breathing heavily from his place at the kitchen door, as if he’d ran over here as quick as he could (he probably did). It was as if he couldn’t see your parents, his gaze locked on you, a mix between confusion and anger. Your eyes were wide as he stared at you, his hands curled tightly into fists at his sides, his jaw clenched tightly.

You had seen this expression on Paul before, but you never thought it would have been aimed at you.

“Well?” he demanded through his teeth at your silence.

You didn’t know what to say. You were just staring at him like he’d grown a second head, aware that your parents were looking between the two of you with equally as shocked looks. Your parents were thrown in at the deep end, and not gently told. You know your dad is about to go on the rampage to Leto’s house if you don’t calm the situation down in the next five minutes.

“I was…it just happened, one night, okay, and now we’re – “

“Fucking?”

“Paul!” you snapped, eyeing your parents, who were still looking at you with that shocked expression on their faces (although your dad’s complexion was slowly reddening as his jaw tightened). “Can you calm down?”

Where was Leto?

“Calm down? Calm down?”

“Please.” You stood from your chair, practically pleading, begging Paul to just let you get your side of the story out, for his sake and your parents. Your dad’s breathing was getting heavier and your mother’s mouth was opening and closing, like she couldn’t find the words to say. It was bad. It was worse than you thought it would be. “Just let me explain…”

Paul looked at you expectantly, waving his hand out dramatically, giving you an impatient, “Go ahead.”

You finally looked back at your parents, your mother looking at you with confusion, your father with barely contained fury. You gasped through your teeth, scrambling to calm the situation. “Look, it isn’t just a…we’re serious about each other.”

“Yeah, my dad, who you’re fucking, made it pretty clear how serious you both were.”

“Paul – “ you cut yourself off by closing your eyes tightly and pinching the bridge of your nose. Your headache was getting worse.

“When did this happen?”

Your eyes widened, practically giving yourself whiplash as you turn your head to look at your father, who had seemed to have regulated his breathing. But he still sat stiffly in his seat, his forgotten glass of water gripped hard in his left hand. You stuttered out, “When you and mom were away, seven months ago. Well, nearly eight months ago now.”

“You and…you and Leto?”

You grimaced. “Dad, it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“No, of course not, it’s just that my very good friend has been sleeping with my kid.”

“Dad!” you snapped, appalled at his wording. “That’s not what it is!”

Paul took a step towards you, his anger flaring up again. “That’s exactly what it is! It’s weird, and sick, and you have no right – “

Your mouth fell open in shock. “No right? No right? I’m an independent, fully grown adult, as is your dad! We can date whoever we want, including each other.”

“Well I’m telling you to stop!”

You scoffed at him, actually even laughing at his sheer entitlement. You knew Paul wouldn’t be happy about the news; he was protective of his father, and of you too. But you didn’t think it would come to this, that Paul would ban you from seeing Leto. You wondered how their conversation went. Did Paul react the same? Did he ban Leto from seeing you? Is that why Leto was still MIA?

You cross you arms over your chest and shake your head at Paul. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I don’t think it’s so unbelievable that I’m asking you to stop dating my dad.”

“We’re both happy, Paul! Why can’t you just be happy for us?”

“Because it’s you, and my dad!” Paul cried, his hands flailing.

“My parents aren’t even making this much of a fuss!”

“That’s still in court,” your dad muttered, your mom giving him a swat on the arm, shushing him before she turned back to you and Paul, watching carefully.

She had yet to say a word.

Paul gave a laugh of disbelief as he ran his hands through his hair, turning away from you, barely able to calm the anger that was burning hot in his chest. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this is happening. My best friend. My best friend and my dad! Why? Why is this happening?

You couldn’t answer him, because truly, you still question yourself every day why Leto chose to be with you. You didn’t know why he gave you the chance, why that night happened that seemed so long ago, on the couch that you could actually see from your place in the kitchen. The memories cause your cheeks to warm, your hands to sweat, and you suddenly felt like you need to go and see him. You needed to check if Leto is okay.

You give a light shrug to Paul. “Your dad makes me happy. He’s a great guy, he’s kind and he treats me well.”

Paul rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous, the both of you. You need to end this, like yesterday.”

“I don’t think you can dictate who I can and can’t be with and love, thank you,” you snapped at him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

That was new. You and Leto had never spoken the ‘L Word’ before. And you hadn’t planned on saying it for the first time shouting at his son in anger because he was disrespecting you and Leto’s relationship.

Because he wasn’t taking you seriously.

Because he didn’t think that you were deserving of Leto.

Because he didn’t think you both should be happy together.

You swallow nervously, averting your gaze from everyone in the room. “I need some air.”

You turn and head towards the front door, ignoring your mother’s calls, the first thing she’s said in ages. You grab the nearest jacket to you, which happens to be your father’s, opening the door before leaving the house, closing the door with a little more force than you meant to.

Slipping the jacket on, you set off walking, not sure where you were going. You should go and check on Leto, something must have happened with Paul since he didn’t come over. Or he was avoiding your parents, because he knew your dad well enough that he would have no qualms in putting Leto in his place (honestly, at this point, Leto would probably let him).

You turn to Leto’s house, walking up the path and quickly knocking on the front door. Your nerves were on fire, and you were already picking at your nails, still not being able to kick that nervous habit you’d had since you were six. You bit your lip as the front door opened, your heart skipping what felt like twenty beats in your chest as Leto’s brown eyes came into view.

You look at Leto, inhaling through your teeth at the beginnings of a black eye growing on his right eye. You reach forward, your body nearly colliding with his as you cup his cheeks in both hands as you look over him. “What happened to you?”

Leto gave a small grin, despite the hurt look in his eyes. “Paul didn’t take my news very well.”

You give a snort of laughter, your gaze finally meeting his. “You’re telling me.”

Leto reached up to wrap his hands around your wrists, bringing them down so he could hold your hands in his. His hands were always so warm, always enveloping yours and making you feel secure, and loved. You gave him another smile but it falters at the look on his face. “What’s the matter?”

Leto gives you a serious look. “We need to talk.”

Tagged - @shes-not-alone, @dd122004dd, @sofsofsposts, @prakhyanair

[daechwitatamic]

I. Your Wild-Running Heart || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

When your roommate bails last-second and leaves you completely in a bind for the new school year, your best friend Taehyung mentions that his friend Namjoon needs a place off-campus, too.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Friday August 28 

“Please, no,” you beg. “Please tell me this is a joke. I can’t live with a man. Do you know what men are like?”

Taehyung, quite a specimen of man last time you checked, cocks an eyebrow at you. “Y/N,” he says flatly. “You’re doing it again.”

It meaning being dramatic, and you resent that implication.

You whine, shuffling your feet unhappily. “But Tae,” you say - okay, you whine. “If my roommate is a guy, then I have to wear a bra in the apartment, like, all the time.”

“Oh my god,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, completely over you. “Do you want my help or not? What are your other options right now?”

How nice of him to ask. 

You’d been so excited to lease an apartment off-campus for your final year of university, even more excited to share it with a girl in your writing program named Penny. You hadn’t thought twice about putting the lease in only your own name, but when Penny texted you - the audacity of her to not even call - to say she wasn’t going to return in the fall after all, you were stuck with the responsibility.

So, since Taehyung asked, your options are this: pay the entire rent by yourself (impossible), or find a roommate, fast. 

“Namjoon’s a really good friend of mine,” Taehyung tries again. “I am personally vouching for him that he’s not a weirdo or a creep. His building flooded and he’s in a bind - just like you. He’s nice, he’s smart, and he’s normal.”

“What about clean?” you prod. 

Taehyung shrugs. “Cleaner than me.”

You sigh. You know Taehyung is right - you need someone quickly, and at this rate you’re bound to only find creeps. At least this guy - even though he’s a guy, which is your main issue - has been vetted.

“You’re not very clean,” you tell your best friend.

He grins at you, guilty as charged. 

“Could we talk first?” you suggest, nerves churning. “Like, can I meet him?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. “Did you think I was going to drop the key off at his place and say ‘okay, have fun!’?”

“Maybe!” you cry, feeling a little hysterical. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes at you. “Want me to see if he can swing by the place tomorrow?”

The plan for the next day was originally for you two to load up your car through the morning, grab lunch somewhere, and then start moving your stuff into the apartment after you ate. 

“Yeah,” you answered. “That actually sounds like a good plan. Then he can see the apartment, too. And you’ll be there with me.”

“Actually a good plan,” Taehyung parrots with a scoff. “Please.”

After your lunch date, Taehyung drops you back home so you can finish packing. You’d packed a lot already - all of your big pieces of furniture were there already, your bedroom now just a mess of random piles of clothing and your bare mattress on the ground. A lot of what you still had were things you knew you’d need to use again during the days you were starting to pack - toiletries, electronics, that kind of thing. With a sigh, you turn on some music and start pulling hangers out of your closet. 

You think about your situation as you work. You’re disappointed about Penny - you’ve lost a roommate and a good friend, somehow. You’re nervous about meeting Taehyung’s friend Namjoon. You’re somehow both excited for and dreading the academic year starting - your final year, complete with a senior thesis course you’ll have to pass in June. And you’re excited for the apartment - your first one that isn’t an on-campus dorm. 

No campus security knocking on the doors, no RA going through your fridge for forbidden liquor bottles, no shared hallway bathrooms. With your own bedroom in the apartment, you’re guaranteed a space that is just yours, a sanctuary where you can have the quiet you crave and aesthetic you want, your own four walls that are completely your own. 

Taehyung’s apartment, which he shares with two friends, isn’t far from your new one - walking distance, actually. He’d offered you his couch there when Penny first bailed. But even if you took his offer, you’d be charged for breaking your lease, and you’d still have to find something more permanent - which would mean another security deposit, not to mention rent. As long as you kept the optimism that you’d successfully secure and keep a roommate, staying was the cheaper option.

You won’t talk about how you wish Taehyung would offer more than his couch.

You won’t talk about how when he’d said, “You know, you could stay with me,” in that deep, comforting voice of his, your heart had run wild. 

Then he’d continued, “That couch isn’t too bad to sleep on, I’ve done it before. And the guys wouldn’t mind. Then you’d have time to find something new, maybe something you can afford alone?”

And your wild-running heart had stuttered, stumbled, caught its footing, stood still. 

You can’t even get mad at him. He’s trying to help. It’s not his fault - at all - that he doesn’t know that your imagination leapt off a cliff at his words, was already picturing snuggling in his bed, those strong arms tight around your middle, was already picturing waking up to his sleepy smile. 

You don’t pretend for even a second that it’s anyone’s fault but your own. 

--

Around ten pm your Aunt Lin comes and knocks on your open door, looking down at the scene before her: you, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half-closed boxes, miscellaneous items strewn around the floor around you, clothing piled up like mountains around you.

“You don’t look very ready,” she remarks.

“That’s helpful, thank you,” you say. 

Lin has raised you ever since you lost your grandmother, who had taken care of you before that. Your grandmother and Lin are the only parental figures you can really remember, but Lin’s technically only ten years your senior and has always felt more like a big sister than a mother. You can’t fault her for it; she was still quite young when she took over raising you. She certainly didn’t have to take you in, but she had, and she’d done her best. 

Lin chuckles. “Why isn’t Taehyung here helping?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s my friend, not my servant. He’s helping me move all this in tomorrow, that’s plenty.”

Lin shrugs, already disinterested. “Okay,” she says lightly. “Well, I wanted to say good luck with the move, and good luck with school this year. Let me know if you need anything.”

You look up from your packing and take in her appearance. She’s in scrubs, a huge thermos of coffee in her hand. She’s got work tonight, then, and won’t be here in the morning when Taehyung picks you up. You should have figured. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

She shifts, looking down the hall instead of at you, suddenly. Lin’s not great with emotions; it’s where you get it from.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you for winter break? If not before?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Definitely by then.”

She nods, tells you goodbye, and heads down the hallway. You hear the front door close, and you’re alone with your boxes. That’s about as mushy as it gets with Lin.

[11:44 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: what time tmrw?

[11:45 PM] You: you drive the car, you tell me

[11:51 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 10?

[11:54 PM] You: you think that’s enough time to pack up the car and drive there before lunch?

[11:58 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄 this is why i asked YOU what time

[12:01 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 😤

[12:02 AM] You: 9:30 

[12:03 AM] You: and bring me iced coffee 🤗 plsssss???

[12:06 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

[12:08 AM] You: love u tete

[12:11 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah yeah love you too 

You press the top of your phone into your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting yourself pretend, for just a second, that he could mean it the way you do.

Saturday August 29

Taehyung shows up in the morning - at ten, not nine-thirty, but he has an iced coffee for you in his car, so you let him live. 

It takes you over an hour to load up the car, the boxes and suitcases and garbage bags squished together, shoved impossibly tight, the world’s most desperate game of tetris. Taehyung declares it impossible no less than five times, bemoaning that he’ll have to make the hour drive a second time in order to fit all of your shit. 

In the end, you make it happen. It just takes a little determination. 

The drive to your university is around an hour, depending on traffic. You and Taehyung both don big, goofy aviators and blast music as you sail down the highway, the backseat loaded floor to ceiling. The car is so stuffed, you even have boxes between your feet and on your lap. 

The sun shines brightly down on you as you and Taehyung sing and groove your way through the drive, and you feel… so content, so sure that this is right, that you’re meant to be next to him, like this, forever. Like everything in the universe just clicked together to give you the perfect snapshot of how things are meant to be. 

What if you said it? What if you told him? 

Sometimes, moments like now, you just can’t fathom how he doesn’t feel it too. 

But you know better. You know he doesn’t - doesn’t want to. Something deep inside you tells you to tread carefully with this best friend of yours. Something instinctual tells you that the dysfunctional friendship you’ve crafted together is a Jenga tower and if you so much as nudge the wrong brick, it’s all coming down. 

You eat lunch at a table out in front of a cafe, people watching and basking in the sunlight. It’s the last, trickling days of August, but today’s breezy and cooler. It’ll warm up again before fall comes in full force, you’re sure, but you appreciate the reprieve from the scorching heat, since you’re about to spend several hours hauling boxes up a stairwell.

After lunch, Taehyung drives to your new neighborhood and finds a street-parking spot close to the front entrance of the tall, brick building.

“Okay,” he says. “Now the fun part.”

You giggle. “Have I told you yet that I appreciate you?”

“Elaborate, please,” he says, which is so typical for him. He looks over at you, sunglasses low on his nose.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I appreciate you helping me move in. I appreciate you driving me. I appreciate the afternoon you’re about to spend carrying boxes and shit.”

“You’re forgetting something,” he tells you sagely.

You want to whack him in the belly for being so obnoxious, but you can’t risk him dumping all your stuff on the sidewalk and fucking off to let you deal with the stairs on your own. 

“I appreciate you finding me a roommate so I don’t have to sleep on your couch,” you add.

“There we go.” Satisfied, he unbuckles, and you both get out and examine the backseat for whichever Tetris piece seems like it could be removed easiest. Arms full of boxes, you make your way up the steps to the little lobby that houses a wall of mail slots, and then up a second set of stairs to your second-floor apartment.

You set down the box you were carrying and dig out the key, opening the door to your new home.

You really do love this apartment. Through the open space - past the kitchen and through the living room - sunlight streams in through the large front windows that overlook the city block below. You can already see in your mind where you’ll put plants on low tables, or hanging from the ceiling.

You had done the big stuff days ago, with both Lin and Taehyung’s help; Lin had rented a little moving van and you’d loaded up the big furniture. From Lin’s house, you’d taken your bedframe and boxspring, leaving just the mattress in your old bedroom at Lin’s house. You’d also loaded up your low dresser, a nightstand, and two bookshelves. You’d gotten a few pieces from a local repurposing store - a desk to work at and a little swiveling chair to go with it. Your final splurge was an expensive mattress; the one in the store had felt like damn clouds. It was set to be delivered sometime this afternoon. 

You’re already looking forward to going to sleep later.

You and Taehyung try to just put boxes where they’re meant to go. Two boxes end up in your bathroom, another two in the kitchen. You split the books between your bedroom and the living room, where a lone bookshelf is the only current piece of furniture. You heave bags of clothes and linens into your closet, determined to deal with them later. 

The mattress delivery goes smoothly, the truck arriving as you and Taehyung are about halfway done unloading the car. You leave the building’s front door and your apartment door propped open and both teams do their thing: the delivery guys carrying the mattress up the steps, you and Taehyung behind them with garbage bags full of your clothes or boxes of books. 

“You,” Taehyung pants, “have way too much stuff.”

You grin sheepishly, as in the other room your new mattress is removed from its plastic wrap and placed atop your awaiting boxspring. You’re itching to dig out your linens and make the bed; that’s always what makes a room feel ready to you, even back when you were just setting up a little dorm. Once the bed was made, everything else slowly fell into place. 

Once the delivery truck rolls away, you throw yourself bodily onto the mattress, letting out a series of happy groans as you let the pillowy goodness envelop you. 

“Taehyung,” you call tantalizingly. “Come feel it.”

You hear him drop a box in the living room with an audible oof - it must have been more books - and then he comes into your new bedroom and flops sideways across the bed next to you, the mattress jumping and settling again under his weight.

“Wow,” he says, rolling on his back and then turning to look at you, his legs bending to touch the floor. “This is nice. Let’s trade, I’ll bring mine over.”

“Nope,” you say, smiling. “I bought this one with my hard-earned summer money. It’s just for me.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice wry, “for you and your guests.”

Now you do whack him in the belly. He grunts, hands covering the spot, then lays still again.

“That wasn’t nice,” he comments mildly. “No hitting.”

“What guests?” you pout. “I haven’t had a guest since–”

“Ah, spare me the Great Drought of 2022 story,” he begs. He sits up, reaching into his pocket. As his hand retracts, you realize his phone is buzzing with an incoming call.

“Bro,” he says as a greeting, and then listens. “Yeah, we’re here now. That’s fine. Sounds good. Okay.”

He taps to hang up and looks at you. “Namjoon is almost here. That’s fine, right?”

“I was right here,” you huff. “Yes, it’s fine, but you literally could have asked me.”

Taehyung ignores you. “There’s one more box. I’ll go get it, and then I’ll stay while you meet with Joon, and then I’m gonna go, okay?”

“Oh,” you say, heart sinking a little bit. You’d kind of hoped he’d stick around, just hang out and goof off while you unpacked boxes and organized your stuff. “Sure.”

He reads you like a book; he always does.

“Don’t pout,” he says, and there’s something apologetic in his tone. “I just have to do some stuff today. And I really need to shower, this got me all sweaty.”

Well, you don’t need that mental image. Luckily, you’re saved from yourself by a knock at the front door. This strikes you as so polite, because not only is Namjoon going to literally live here, but also because the door is still propped wide open.

You sit up, fixing your hair from where you laid on it. Taehyung has already made his way through the living room and is giving a one-handed bro-hug to the guy at the door. You make your way over, heart thumping. 

You notice a few things right away. He’s tall - taller than Taehyung, and you don’t see that often. His eyes are absolutely striking - there’s sharpness to them, something that makes you want to see the world how he does, something that makes you want to keep looking, something that makes you curious about how he’d see you. 

When he smiles, each cheek dimples, the perfect size for the pad of your index finger. He’s all in browns except for a pair of light-wash jeans. He’s got a dark brown beanie tugged low on his head, and even his thin, wire-frame glasses seem to be chosen for the vibe above all else.

“Hi,” you say, sounding a little shy even to your own ears. Taehyung moves out of the way and you reach to shake Namjoon’s hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung promised me you’re normal.”

The guy lets out one big laugh, surprised. “He told me the same,” he says conspiratorially, “but really, that’s such a subjective thing.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, and you step back to let Namjoon in, preparing to show him around. 

“Kitchen and living room are here,” you say unnecessarily, since he can see for himself. “Your bedroom would be on this side.” You push open the door and Namjoon sticks his head in. The room is completely bare, the empty closet door standing open. 

“You get your own bathroom,” Taehyung points out. Namjoon nods appreciatively, still looking silently back and forth across the room that would be his as soon as you pass him a key.

“Is it okay?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. If this guy backs out, you’ll be back at square one, and now with less time to solve the problem.

“Oh,” he says, as if remembering he should communicate. “Yeah! It’s great.” He turns and peers at the living room, which is empty but for your lone bookshelf and several boxes of books, unopened.

“I have some stuff we can put here, if you want?” he asks, his tone a little uncertain. “Specifically, I have a couch and coffee table, plus a TV and a console to put it on. It should all fit.”

“That would be great,” you say enthusiastically. “I was already stressing out about saving up enough for a couch.”

He nods easily, looking around the room thoughtfully. Taehyung has wandered over to the large windows and is looking up at the tree that stands right outside, the branches waving lightly in the afternoon breeze. With the sunlight coming in, he looks like a painting. 

“I have a rug, too,” Namjoon muses. “Would you be interested in that?”

“Definitely,” you tell him, tearing your eyes away from Taehyung’s back. There’s something knowing in Namjoon’s face as he watches you, and you flush, feeling weirdly caught.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll bring it. What about kitchen stuff?”

“I don’t have a ton,” you admit, pointing to the two boxes - not very big ones - that you’ve left on the kitchen counter. “If you’ve got more, that’s probably good. I don’t cook that often, to be honest. I’m not very good at it.”

Namjoon smiles at you, leaning over a little like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I can barely boil water,” he admits. “So you’re all good.”

You stand together as you discuss how you’ll be splitting the monthly costs for the utilities, not to mention the high-speed wifi that’s getting set up in two days. That leaves you to work out the rent, what day it’s due and how you want to handle paying it. In the end, you decide that he’ll electronically pay you, and you’ll pay the landlord, since it’s your name on the lease. He pays you right there on the spot, and you pass him the key that was meant for Penny.

“Is it okay if I start moving my things tomorrow?” he asks you.

You shrug. “This place is yours now, too,” you say easily. “You can honestly do what you want.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll probably start in the morning then?”

“I can’t promise I’ll be up,” you laugh, “but don’t let that stop you!”

“Should we…” he pauses, adjusts his glasses. “Should we exchange numbers?”

Taehyung makes a face you know well; it’s the face he makes when he wants to laugh or make fun of something, and he’s doing the Good Person Thing by keeping the thought to himself, but he wants to make sure you know by his face that he is holding it in. He wants credit for doing the Good Person Thing.

You honestly hate him sometimes. It’s the only thing keeping you from tipping straight into insanity. Sometimes, I really hate Taehyung. 

“Yes, we probably should,” you say, because someone in this room needs to act like they aren’t twelve years old, and it’s not going to be Kim Taehyung, apparently.

You do, and then Namjoon tells you both goodbye, making his way back out to the hallway and down the steps. You can hear his footsteps fall away into nothing. 

Taehyung looks at you, smiles angelically. “See?” he says. “I told you he was nice.”

He reaches for his keys on your kitchen counter. You frown, detecting his imminent departure. 

“Will you come over tomorrow?” you ask, a little pitifully. 

He considers this, and nods. “For dinner?” he suggests. 

“Yeah,” you say. “We still won’t have wifi yet. We’ll be bored.”

“Only boring people get bored,” Taehyung says sagely, holding up one finger like a wizened philosopher. Then he comes to hug you goodbye, pulling you into a sweet embrace. You want to live there, in the spot between his arms. 

Once he’s gone, you look around your new home. Alone, you decide to put on music and start tackling boxes. You start in the bathroom, finding towels so you’ll be able to shower in the morning, unpacking all your toiletries, setting up your toothbrush just so. You do the kitchen second; the sun sets outside as you find places for your battered pots and pans. 

You stop for dinner, getting take-out from a place nearby that delivers. Then you dive back in, setting up your bedroom. It feels cozy already, once the bed is made and you’ve plugged in your little lamps. Calmer, you start folding clothes to put into dresser drawers. At one point you wander out of your room to get some water and you freeze in your bedroom doorway, struck by how lonely it feels. 

The rest of the apartment is lit only by the yellow glow coming from your bedroom, plus the thin, white light that filters in from the streetlight below the living room windows. You hurry into the kitchen and turn on the light over the sink, which vanishes some of the bad feeling for you. You pour your glass of water and lean heavily on the counter, looking out at your empty living room, and the dark doorway of Namjoon’s untouched room. You wish Taehyung had come back over, or that some of your university friends had moved back into the area sooner.

You rinse your glass and head back into your room, ready to distract yourself with more unpacking until you’re tired enough to sleep.

Sunday August 30

Bumps and crashes wake you in the morning. It takes you a few minutes to figure out where you are - ah, the cloud bed, in your new room. The morning sunlight is strong; apparently the windows on the front of the apartment face the east. You make a mental note to shop for some good blackout curtains, and check your phone. Not much waiting for you - Lin texted around 1 am asking if you got settled okay, probably while she was on a quick break. You answer her, check your socials, and then lay back, just looking around. 

You got a lot done yesterday, but you still have more unpacking to do. It also occurs to you that not only is there no coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, there’s no food of any kind in the whole place, unless you count your container of leftover takeout from last night. 

You shower and get dressed, figuring it's best to stay out of the way - you can hear the grunts and huffs and loud bumps that indicate Namjoon’s got some friends helping him move things in. But eventually, the growling in your stomach and your body’s clamoring for caffeine send you out into the living room.

The low entertainment center is in place across the room from you, a flatscreen tv situated on top. There are now two stools tucked beneath the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and a pretty, wooden coffee table sits in the center of the living room.

There’s a guy on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, a screwdriver, and a packet of instructions in his hands. You can hear a lot of shouting, bumping, and cursing floating in from the stairwell down the hall. 

“Hey,” the guy on the floor says. “You’re Y/N? I’m Namjoon’s friend, Yoongi.”

“Hi,” you say, a little bewildered. “What are you… building?”

He sighs, squinting at the paper in his hand. “It’s supposed to be a bookshelf. Eventually.”

You’re about to respond to this when the noise from outside the open door gets infinitely louder. You see Namjoon’s expansive back as he shuffles backwards through the doorway, one end of a faded, grey couch in his hands. 

“Okay, you have to turn,” he coaches whoever is on the other side.

The couch makes it through the door, and you’re surprised to see that you know the other person carrying the couch. He’s one of Taehyung’s best friends, and you’ve hung out together as a group plenty of times over the last three years.

“JayKay!” you call happily. “Welcome to my house!”

He laughs, nose scrunching with delight. “Y/N,” he crows. “Where should I put the couch?”

“Across from the tv,” Namjoon answers for you, sounding a little breathless. They shuffle through the room, and you notice for the first time that they’ve already put the rug in place, covering most of the warped, wooden floor of the living room. The couch settles over top of it, and Namjoon slides the coffee table to a more centered position.

One more guy comes through your doorway, carrying a nightstand and a lamp. He’s got quite possibly the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. He disappears into Namjoon’s bedroom, and you hear the quiet thump as he sets the nightstand down in there.

“Wow,” you say. “You’ve got a whole moving crew.”

“Notice who’s not here helping,” Jungkook grumbles.

You smile to yourself. If you know him at all, you’ll guess Taehyung isn’t even out of bed yet. 

“In his defense,” you say, and Jungkook snorts, as if it’s so typical that you’d defend Taehyung, which… it might be, “he did a lot for me yesterday. We had his car packed with my stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook mutters and turns to - presumably - get more stuff from downstairs.

“You have a lot left?” you ask Namjoon, who seems to be catching his breath for a minute, perched on the arm of the couch. “I’d offer to help, but I was just about to go get groceries - there’s very literally no food here.”

“We’re about done with the heavier stuff,” he says, looking at the open door, like he’ll find an inventory there that he can reference. “But still plenty of assembling left.”

“Hooray,” Yoongi deadpans from the floor, holding the instruction packet up in the air like a different angle will help him decipher the directions.

You find your little foldable cart and make your way to the grocery store a few blocks away. By the time you’re done scouring the aisles, you’ve loaded the cart to the top and still have to carry some of the bags. But at least now you’ll have food to eat, things to drink besides tap water. 

Getting up the stairs with your groceries sucks, but you make it, panting like crazy as you finally unlock the front door and let yourself in.

You’re greeted with silence; it’s clear the guys are all gone. The living room looks completely different than twenty-four hours ago. The couch and table look great, and it seems like Yoongi’s bookshelf is mostly complete - it’s upright, just missing a few shelves near the top. You set the groceries down in the kitchen next to three unopened boxes - it seems like Namjoon’s gameplan was the same as yours yesterday: get the boxes into the appropriate rooms, do the rest later. 

You peek into his bedroom - he’s left the door all the way open, which feels nice, like he trusts you, and you make a mental note that you should probably do the same. You notice that it looks like the furniture is all in place there, too. It doesn’t differ much from yours, actually. The bedframe is put together, the boxspring and mattress leaning against the far wall. He’s also got a tall chest of drawers, a wicker hamper, and in the corner, a desk. Namjoon’s furniture is a lot more modern looking than yours, sleek and matching. You bet he didn’t get half of his from the thrift store. 

You put the groceries away and make yourself a small lunch, eating it on the couch in the quiet of the apartment. You’ve got about twenty-four hours to go until there’s wifi and you can stream shows when you’re home alone. You’re just cleaning up your lunch when you hear a key in the lock, and then the cacophony of boys’ voices as they reenter the apartment. 

“-far superior, I’m telling you,” Jungkook is saying emphatically. The smell of greasy burgers and fries hits you in the kitchen along with the sound of his voice.

“I hear what you’re saying, and I respect your opinion,” a flat voice responds that you think might belong to Yoongi. “It’s just that you’re wrong.”

“Hey,” Namjoon says, noticing you standing in the kitchen. The guys pass through, heading into the living room, Jungkook already digging in the bag. They surround the coffee table, handing out burgers and fries, filling the room with delicious smells and noisy chatter.

You take this opportunity to head back into your room, sitting on your bedroom floor and opening one of your boxes of books, starting to put them on the small shelf beneath your window. You pop in your airpods and turn on music, losing yourself in the monotonous movement of digging out a new book, then turning to place it on the shelf. Rinse, and repeat.

When you finish, you move into your closet. You put your little wire shoe rack back together and locate your box of shoes, lining them up neatly. Then, you tackle another garbage bag full of clothes that go on hangers, flapping each shirt or dress to relieve it of wrinkles before hanging it up. After that, you find a box of miscellaneous dresser items - jewelry boxes, perfume bottles, headbands - and put those where you want them, too.

By the time you decide you need to sit down and take a break, it’s nearly evening, the light outside reaching that golden hour. You really do love the natural lighting in this place. 

You take out your airpods and set them to charge, listening carefully. You’ve had your bedroom door open this whole time, but the guys had left you alone and you’d minded your own business. Now, the apartment is filled with silence again. They must be gone.

You text Taehyung for the first time that day, which strikes you as weird. He must have been busy today, too. It’s odd for you two to make it until almost dinner without speaking.

“Dinner?” you text, and then wander out into the living room. 

“Hey,” a voice says from near the floor, and you practically leap out of your skin. You startle so violently that your phone slips from your hands and clatters to the floor.

“Holy crap,” you breathe when you realize Namjoon is sitting on the floor next to his newly assembled bookshelf, an open box of books before him. He seems to be sorting them into piles before putting any on the shelf.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I’m just… a jumpy person. You’ll get used to it.”

You watch him sort books for a minute, then eye your own empty bookshelf, your boxes still closed on the ground next to it. You decide if it’s Bookshelf Hours, you might as well, right? You set your phone on the coffee table and settle in, opening your first box and starting to place books on the bottommost shelf.

“So,” you say, because it feels weird to be sitting four feet from your new roommate and not speaking, “Taehyung said you’re a grad student at the university?”

Namjoon nods wordlessly, eyes on the books he’s sorting. “Yep,” he says finally. “And you’re a senior?”

“Mhm,” you confirm. 

After that scintillating conversation, you both lapse into silence as you work. You continue like that for some time - long enough to reach the middle shelf - before you realize you hear your phone buzzing on the table. You stretch to reach for it, missing how Namjoon glances sideways at you, at how an inch of your stomach is revealed as you lean over. 

“Hi,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Took you long enough to answer,” Taehyung gripes.

“Sorry,” you say. “We were putting books away.”

Taehyung’s silence is just one beat too long. “We, huh?”

You laugh, once. “I mean? That’s what each of us is doing? So? Yeah?” From his spot a few feet away, Namjoon glances over his shoulder, frowning slightly.

“Anyway,” you say, “dinner? Do you want to come over?” 

“Yes,” he says decisively. “Order us something and I’ll head over?”

“Sure,” you say, already hanging up. You don’t need to ask what he wants; no matter where you order from, you know what he likes. 

“Do you want to order with us?” you ask Namjoon mildly as you scroll through the local delivery app. “I was thinking pizza.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says slowly, like he was deep in thought and has to process what you’d said to him. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

The place you’d order from back when you lived in the dorms is actually closer to this apartment than campus, which is the most beautiful, serendipitous thing that’s ever happened in your life. You place the order for delivery and continue putting your books away. Once all the books are on shelves, you’re essentially done - finally, after two days - unpacking. 

This gives you exactly one whole day to relax before you have to start going to classes again.

Taehyung arrives before the pizza, knocking on the door in a silly rhythm. You pound back on your side of the door, echoing his rhythm, before opening it, greeting him with a big smile. You’d missed him; of course you had.

“Wow,” he says, genuinely impressed, as he peers around you. “It looks so much different in here.”

“Right?” you ask, filled with joy. Taehyung pokes his head into the kitchen, which is arguably the least “ready” room, as aside from putting your things into drawers and cupboards, neither you nor Namjoon had really done much to it. No hand-towels hanging by the sink, no magnets on the fridge, even the counters were empty, save for the two sets of keys resting there. Taehyung adds his own to the key pile and moves into the living room, which is much more impressive.

“Hey, man,” Namjoon says from the floor. It seems like he’s done sorting his books into piles and has started actually putting them on shelves now. “Looks good, right?”

“It does,” Taehyung answers from the doorway of Namjoon’s room, where he's peeking nosily. “The guys helped you?”

“Everyone except you and Jimin,” Namjoon says innocently. 

Taehyung smiles guiltily. “I helped Y/N the entire day before, just the two of us,” he argues. “And what about Hobi? He’s on--”

“--on vacation with his parents,” Namjoon finishes agreeably, “so he’s off the hook. Where was Jimin?”

“Where do you think Jimin was?” Taehyung scoffs, reaching down and touching the rug absently.

“Sleeping,” you and Namjoon say at the same time, both of your voices wry. You smile at him, and he looks away. 

The pizza arrives and you all sit around the coffee table to eat. Conversation flows better with Taehyung in the mix; he talks so much, it almost doesn’t matter if anyone else does. 

“I was thinking of making a list of things we need for the apartment that wouldn’t necessarily belong to either of us - cleaning supplies, stuff like that,” Namjoon says to you. “I thought I could buy it and we could split the cost?”

“Buy the cheap stuff,” Taehyung advises. “Y/N’s summer money is gonna go fast, especially the way she orders out instead of cooking.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say flatly, shooting him a look. “I start work in like two days. I can handle it.”

After the pizza’s done, Namjoon goes back to working on his bookshelf, obviously wanting to clear the floorspace of his book piles sooner rather than later. You and Taehyung sprawl across the couch opposite each other, his feet resting near your elbow, both of you on your phones. 

You stay like that until nearly midnight, talking occasionally but mostly just happily coexisting in your own little bubbles. At some point, Namjoon finishes the bookshelf and wanders into his bedroom, pausing to look at you two on the couch before disappearing. He pushes his door almost shut, leaving it open a few inches. You hear the subtle sounds of music playing from behind the door, but not loud enough to discern what it is. 

Taehyung hugs you before leaving, and you snuggle into the embrace, body exhausted from the moving process. He rests his chin on top of your head, swaying you around a little bit. 

“Thanks for helping me,” you murmur into his chest. Sometimes the only time you can get Taehyung to be serious for a conversation is when you’re like this; in each other’s arms, your walls come down - in his case, deflecting with humor and sarcasm, brushing off everything like it’s a big joke. In yours, saying what you really mean, and not a more delicate version of it.

“You’re welcome,” he answers, squeezing you a little. “I’m glad everything worked out. It really does look good in here. And I think you guys will get along.” 

Once he leaves, you deadbolt the front door and head to the kitchen to wash the plates and cups you’d used for pizza. Behind you, you hear the squeak of door hinges, and Namjoon pads into the kitchen behind you. He pauses, scanning the cupboards.

“I don’t remember which one I put my cups in,” he laughs a little, and then starts opening each one until he finds what he needs. Once he has a glass, he rummages in the fridge, taking out a juice carton and filling his glass about halfway. You finish washing the last plate and turn the water off, rummaging through a drawer for a dish towel to dry everything.  

“So…” Namjoon says between sips of juice. “You two are pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging easily. “He’s my best friend.”

Namjoon hums, nods, purses his lips thoughtfully. If you knew him better, you’d push - ask him what that face means, or why he’d asked in the first place. 

But, you don’t need to. You know already. You’re used to being interrogated by others about your relationship with Taehyung. Sometimes people are trying to see if you’re a threat in their quest to worm their way into Taehyung’s heart (or pants) - and in your own weird way, you kind of are, at least for the former. 

Taehyung definitely sleeps around, but he’s surprisingly tight-lipped with you about it. You’re not sure if he’s sparing you, or he’s actually just a gentleman. Could go either way. But when Taehyung considers dating someone - rare, to say the least - he always has you vet them first. You never like any of them, surprise surprise. 

You’re used to girls approaching you in bathrooms, sometimes aggressively, sometimes meekly, to ask if Taehyung’s your boyfriend. You’ve had girls come apologize, saying they “didn’t know about you”. Once you’d had a girl nearly shove you down a staircase for talking to “her man”, but luckily, said man was walking next to you and helped shut the whole thing down. (You two had had a serious talk after that one about communicating with his partners about his relationship status. Things have never gone that far again, to date.)

Less frequently, you’ll get asked about Taehyung by guys who are interested in you, who are trying to figure out how much of a lost cause it is. That one’s a little trickier. How do you tell the cute guy at the coffee shop that no, you’re not dating Taehyung, but you are secretly so in love with him that it really isn’t worth their time? 

Anyway, usually you just tell guys that you’re not dating Taehyung but that you’re not interested in dating anyone. It usually does the trick. It’s not that far from the truth, either.

That leaves the last category of people who ask about you two, and this is where you feel Namjoon falls: the people who watch your weird, boundary-pushing friendship and are just genuinely curious how it could possibly work. 

And you get it, you really do. You know how this looks from the outside. Hell, you’re sure that from the outside it’s fairly obvious how gone you are for him. Is it just as obvious to the outside that he sees you more like a sister than anything datable? 

Probably.

You’ve had friends ask you what keeps you around. You always say the same thing - regardless of your feelings for him, he’s also your absolute best friend.

Your friendship is precious to you, sacred. It sometimes feels like the only thing you have, in a life where you generally don’t have much. Your family is Lin - that’s it, end of the road. Your girlfriends are nice, but Penny was the closest you had and she’s across the country now. You only have Taehyung. And what you have with him, as special as it is, it’s also precarious. 

If you lose him, it isn’t just that you’ll lose him - and trust, that would be devastating - it’s also that you would be deeply alone. 

Finished with the dishes, you bid Namjoon goodnight and head back into your room for the night, planning to change into pajamas and wait for Taehyung to text you that he made it home safely, wait for Taehyung to text you goodnight. Namjoon murmurs goodnight, but you feel his calculating gaze on your back until you close your door softly behind you.

Next ->

Thank you so much for reading! I started writing this in August, it feels amazing to finally postttttt. Please consider some type of feedback - I'd love to hear anything you want to share! Section II will post on Friday, January 27th - hope to see you there!

[stevesbipanic]

ok ok ok ive seen a lot of rockstar eddie and bodyguard steve (and dont get me wrong i LOVE that) BUT-hear me out- Rockstar Eddie Munson and his private jet pilot Steve Harrington 👀

Another awesome prompt from you ❤️

Steve had spent his whole life wanting to be free.

The life his parents had designed for him felt suffocating also too tight suits and stuff dinners and hopes for college just to work for his father, to be like his father.

The only thing Steve had liked about being a rich kid growing up was flying to new places. No, not going to new places, new places was just new people his parents wanted to meet. But flying, Steve felt no worries whenever he looked out the window at the clouds.

After his parents cut him off and put of their lives when he didn't get into college, no matter how much money they tried throwing at the problem, Steve had saved up working retail job after retail job with Robin until he had enough money for flight school.

He can remember clearly his first solo flight, he felt so free up in the air, nothing but him and the clouds.

Now 25, he flies private jets, or, more specifically, one private jet.

Eddie Munson had kept his promise of running out of Hawkins the moment that diploma touched his fingers. Him, Jeff and Freak got a dingy apartment in Indianapolis, working odd jobs for a year and playing in dingier bars on the weekend until Gareth joined them the following year. Then a few months after Gareth joined them full-time they got discovered at one of their gigs.

Soon they were signed, releasing their first album which blew up. After that it was a blur of concerts and touring and more albums. Now 26, Eddie Munson is a household name.

Eddie hated the tour bus lifestyle, always cramped and felt like his trailer but with Freak's snores and every pothole in the US to wake him up. Once the band was big enough, Eddie knew what he wanted, a jet.

The problem though was a lot of pilots were homophobic and Eddie had recently came out with support from the majority of his fans. The band went through many pilots before meeting Steve.

Eddie didn't recognise Steve at first, it had been a few years since he'd graduated and more since King Steve had been in his view. Steve recognised Eddie though, not often you forget the guy that made you learn the word bisexual.

Steve was kind now, softer, free. One drunken night Steve confessed how he hated being King Steve, how he wished he'd been better to Eddie. Eddie told him none of that mattered now, Steve was better now and that was what was important.

Steve and Eddie grew closer, sometimes Eddie would sit in the cockpit (a word he loved joking about) with Steve, telling him stories about their tours. Steve would share stories about working with Robin and the kids (who Eddie missed and was glad to hear were doing well) and flight school.

During the times between tours they'd talk on the phone, Steve bemoaning about annoying clients and Eddie telling him about the new songs he was writing.

"The woman kept trying to come into the cockpit,stop laughing you should be used to that word, E's, anyway I swear the husband was ready to kill me by the time we landed."

"The ladies just can't resist you, sweetheart."

"I just wish you were on tour all the time, I like flying with you."

"What if you just have me as a client?"

"You don't need to fly all the time, Eds."

"I want to fly with you all the time, Stevie."

Steve was 27 and he only flew Eddie Munson around. He didn't need to fly on tour all the time but after an incident with a client Eddie didn't want Steve flying anyone else and just paid him full-time, he could afford it.

"He's your flight sugar daddy."

"Never say that again, Robs."

Steve lived in an apartment near Eddie's now, not that he spent much time there, he mainly hung out at Eddie's. Movie nights, smoke sessions, Eddie showing Steve new songs, Eddie not admitting a lot of songs were about Steve.

It all came to a head one night. The two men were slightly tipsy, sitting on Eddie's balcony looking out at the city.

"I never thought I'd be here."

"If anyone deserves it it's you, Eds."

"I have a confession. 'Burning Skies' is about you."

Steve turned towards Eddie smiling softly.

"I know Eds, and I know 'Ticket to Ride' is too, and 'Death by Gravity', you're not subtle and unless you know any other people that fly around all day."

"But, but they're love songs, Stevie."

"I know Eds, I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

Eddie was now smiling back at Steve, glancing down at his lips. Neither man knows who leant in first but finally, after three years of friendship, they kissed softly under the glow of the city lights.

"Does this mean I get to see your cockpit?"

"I will break up with you right now!"

They both laughed knowing Steve wouldn't, Steve may have felt free in the air, but he felt alive with Eddie by his side.

[freddie-77-ao3]

Gonna use the ask box for this 🙃 ask 1/? (I have so many questions, though you have answered so many already)

What are your thoughts on Trials of Apollo, and the characters?

go ahead and keep asking!!! i love your questions!!

ANYWAY

gonna start smaller with characters:

lavinia: the jewish thing wasn't handled completely correctly (just a couple of small things there) but overall 10/10 character. i think she's hilarious and her official artwork ROCKS.

meg: i love her. she seems a little immature for twelve years old TO ME but i also had a... rather abnormal upbringing so that might explain the differences. overall she was a great character and i LOVE the demeter rep (my thoughts on how riordan treated demeter take five pages to clarify so-- basically) love seeing it-- demeter was a kronide and her kids should be treated as such! great character development. peaches was also hilarious (as was crotch-kicker mccaffrey)

lester: calling him lester to separate between godly apollo and post toa apollo. again, fantastic character development. he's so fucking funny. like he does some really dumb stuff at the start of the series (swearing to not use a musical instrument and stuff?? LESTER MAN CMON) his and meg's relationship is so sweet-- and kayla and austin with him? chefs kiss. love apollo kids getting some time with their dad.

jason: absolutely got fridged. i've already touched on my suicide theory so i won't go into that here but basically i think we shoulda seen jason similar to percy (very minor, doing his own thing behind the scenes) but alas.

piper: the shel thing was a bit sudden. don't get me wrong, i'm ALL for queer rep (i think there should be more of it in the books actually) but-- going straight from breaking up with jason to jason sacrificing himself for her to a relationship seems really unhealthy. i think she should have a chance to grow outside of a relationship.

reyna: joining the hunt was a bad end for her. since when was that an ambition of hers? she seemed genuinely happy in new rome and called it her home multiple times in HoO and going from that to the hunt? idk seems like rick doesn't know how to write characters NOT be in a relationship (piper, reyna, leo... they all get squared away)

leo: oh leo baby he didn't get to see jason before he died??? so heartbreaking. didn't belong in a relationship with calypso. the punching thing was weird when he came back to camp-- esp with a character who has a history of physical abuse

frank: i love the frank deciding his own fate thing but also idk seems like a cop out.

hazel: shouldn't have just become praetor i mean cmon. i love her but she's what, 14 now? no way.

Nico: FINALLY ONE OF THE CHARACTERS CANONICALLY GETS THERAPY. the doctors note is--

will: solangelo flirting is hilarious 10/10. "do you want to be my buddy?" "significant annoyance" i can't breathe. also poor will for putting up with apollo in the hidden oracle because i could not help my dad learn how to use the toilet i'm sorry but that shit is crazy.

malcolm: why is malcolm going to battle without pants on so funny to me i just-- 10/10 i love him.

connor: such a dumbass. the hair grafts 😭. i feel bad that travis isn't there and then communication lines go down like oh buddy :(

cecil: see me RUNNING with the knowledge cecil can cook

other small stuff:

love the waystation, always been my personal hc that there's more than just that one but that's for another post.

percabeth finally making it to college!!!

speaking of which AT WHAT TIME DID TRAVIS AND CLARISSE FILL OUT COLLEGE APPS THEY WERE AT WAR???? WHAT DO THEIR OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPTS LOOK LIKE???

the jackson-blofis family warms my heart <3

thoughts on the series as a whole?

i love it. definitely top three riordan series (tied with pjo and mcga)

i like that (like mcga) toa was more mature? like we finally see demigods with ptsd, we get queer characters, just... everything

[crevicedwelling]

Where do you learn all these care specifics and scientific names and such? I've kept lots of critters (2 madagascar hissing roaches for a few years, some wild-caught adult grasshoppers and katydids for a few months, some mealworms into adulthood, etc) but I never knew stuff like what specific diseases they can catch and how to check, or how to tell different species of grasshoppers or whatever apart. Did you study this in college or just read up on things on your own? When I try to look up stuff like cockroach care I always end up with a million "how to kill nasty evil roaches because everyone hates them" articles.

I've been identifying bugs and using scientific names since I was little, so the years of experience helps, but there are many very accessible sources to help make learning about bugs easier!

I started with a field guide a lot like this, although some of the more basic ones don't have even half of the things you could find (just the more common ones). good field guides should also have scientific names, so you can learn those alongside the common names. scientific names are often much more helpful than the common names since those can change with region and language, but also because many bugs just don't have a common name.

if you happen to be in the US or Canada, BugGuide is a very useful resource where you can ask ID or look at other's submissions. obviously it's fairly limited by range, but has some very nice records and helpful experts.

iNaturalist is also a very helpful tool. it's fun to explore your local critters as well as those all around the world with the map, and you can get pretty decent IDs from the community (though often non-experts and the AI identifier can both be very wrong).

various forums and social media are also great for talking to other keepers and learning about bugs in captivity from them. as much as I hate it, Instagram has a nice population of bug keepers and just chatting with them can give you a lot of helpful tips and strategies.

[honey-lemon-blossom]

Spirit Keeping Journal IX

Entry IX(?): Woah, it’s been a while :)

Hi friends! It’s been a while since I’ve posted on here! Where do I begin? I’ve had a few family troubles over the years, and I lost myself for a bit. I packed up all my spiritual possessions, and started to hang out with a wrong crowd. But in the dark, I found light. I met my boyfriend in 2022, and he’s helped me through so much self-growth and development!

I’m 22 now and I feel as though I’ve grown and matured a lot in a short span of time. I’m going back to college (after a long break), started medication for my depression and anxiety, got a dog, living with my boyfriend, learned how to cook (and I mean REALLY cook, not just ramen noodles 🍜), and so much more. The list can go on and on. The best part: I finally put up an altar and some of my spirit family welcomed me. I can’t lie, and say they all stayed. I respect their decision and as much as they respected mine, and I hope we find each other again.

I don’t know if I’ll write on here again, but I hope to again! I felt as though I couldn’t be honest since some sellers told me to bring down my reviews on them (which is valid, but I think if I’m a paying customer I could leave reviews for others). I’ve decided to focus on myself and what I love, and I feel like I just really began to start my spiritual journey again. I can’t wait to see old faces and meet new ones 🩷. Thank you for my friends and anyone who’s still reading my stuff. I appreciate all of you and I wish you well on your journeys as well.

Blessed be and may you be protected 🩷🧿.

[hecticlife]

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { LEON AMOS } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { HE } is/are ? they kind of look like { LUKE HEMMINGS } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 29 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { TWO MONTHS }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { NATHAN CAMPBELL } from { INSECURE }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { PALMVIEW RECORDING STUDIOS } as a { MUSIC PRODUCER }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { MARTYR } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { IMPULSIVE } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { CHARMING } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { TWO-ROOM } apartment beside me over in { MANGO BAY }. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!

hiii i’m tj (28 / she/her / gmt-4) and this is leon and i love him so much so please extend the love lmao

bio

born and raised in seattle, leon is an only child. his parents went through a pretty nasty divorce when he was seven. his father disappeared from the map and even though he was supposed to pay child support, he hardly ever did. leon’s mother did everything in her power to give her son the best education. anna paid for guitar and piano lessons. she even sent him to berklee because that’s how talented leon had always been in her eyes.

he was in bands in high school, but it wasn’t until college that he learned how to work collaboratively with other musicians and songwriters. the indie rock band artists from teddy was formed in 2022 and the group graduated last year. they did a mini tour around the us (where leon managed to date a stripper for four months) and then went on a much-needed break. leon asked his godmother who lives in chile if he could spend time in her beach house, writing songs for his solo project. of course she said yes.

(tw: alzheimer) so he went to viña del mar and a lot of stuff happened. he got back with his ex (not the stripper) and then he broke it off even though he wanted to propose to her. his mother called him, his grandmother's alzheimer was progressing too fast and the two women were a wreck. and so leon packed his bags and went back to seattle.

(tw: death) two months later, leon's grandmother died. it was really sad but also kind of nice because he hated seeing her suffer so much. asking for god to take her with her late husband.

leon went back to chile after a call with his band, it was time for it to end. it made him sad. he finished his solo record, released it and went on a tour to south america and then the us. it was great to have that distraction, especially because the music did well and the shows were critically acclaimed too. after it ended, he decided he needed to stay in one place, and he chose palmview.

(tw: mental illness) leon was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder when he was nineteen, as well as bipolar disorder when he was twenty-seven. it's taken time for him to adjust to the meds and the emotional dysregulation. but he's better now. so much better than he was a few years ago. still, sometimes his internal dialogue can get rotten, infecting everything in his life. mostly his relationships. the depressive episodes have gone down to once a month, which is impressive and relieving.

leon's staying in mango bay and started working on his second solo project, as well as collaborating with other artists. he's renting a space at the palmview recording studios. it doesn't matter he got here just two weeks ago, he needs to keep moving, like a shark. otherwise he feels like he would die. a bit dramatic, but that's just who he is.

headcanons

plays guitar, piano, bass and sings

goes to therapy

such a party animal, it’s another coping mechanism

absurdly obsessed with music

doesn’t want to have children

stoner

chain-smokes cigarettes even though he knows it's bad for him

[spikeinthepunch]

(this was written for my website blog. some parts may sound odd since because i worded it for that)

Technically, this is a 2023 blog. But whatever. I will put it for 2024 for ease of access since my old stuff is all on my old website. Anyways... new blog finally! I was gonna write this for tumblr but I got off my ass so i could have this web page ready ffs. I have been very absent in the past months...i haven't written a blog at all on my pages since May 2023 it seems, so it has been a fuckin while. I wont go through all the details but i wanna give a run down of this year because oh, man... has it been a lot. A lot of good, imo. Coming out of last year, I had rediscovered some old interests and made some new friends, I feel like I finally have some kinda online circle of friends after so long of not having it since all the changes of the internet. However my goal has always been to really try and get myself to doing shit IRL too. I have IRL friends, but after no college, and now those people moving further away, I could seriously tell that my life was lacking real life stimulation-- added with living alone, doesn't help. Everything kinda came together after I saw a neuro psych for many many weeks in the summer. It was a ton of work but it has also brought me more knowledge on a variety of issues I have had in terms of cognitive ability and other mental issues. When I completed those sessions its like I got slam dunked into a whole new phase of my life. My friends had just finished moving and while they were further away, they still came out towards me for a number of things and I managed to get myself into some of the weekly things they were doing- even picking up new stuff like playing Yu Gi Oh, and actually getting into their DnD group (i havent played since 2018 and I have been missing it so bad!!). In between that though, I was going to numerous concerts, still had my normal therapy, had two week long instances of being with friends nonstop, and surgery. And god, how can I forget, I don't think I even mentioned it here-- I made a video game for a game jam, with it being my first ever game I made... While super short, all those issues I was figuring out during the summer tie into my struggles to have even made that, so it was a big acheivement to have managed that in the course of a month long jam. Additionally its worth linking 2023 Art Summary too! This isn't everything for sure, and I have had some negative stuff pop up in my life this year too, but the number of positives, especially long term positives, have made this a very big year with lots of progress. Technically, I feel overwhelmed in a way especially when I look at what I would like to try and do this year. Acquiring knowledge on my cognitive issues will provide me with new and better ways to go about lots of things I have wanted to try and do-- namely school and learning. But its not "i know the issue, not I can do it". Its "I know whats wrong and I can try these things as solutions". Which is what makes it so exhausting and anxiety inducing- will it work? will this accomodation help? will none of it work? This is The question of 2024 for me. I can't answer it right now, nor will I try or vent through the rest of this blog. But, its gonna be 2024 and I'll have to find out. This last year definitely went off in ways I never expected and it was good, so I hope it'll end up like that again.

[wintersoldierbmb]

thursday june 6 i feel like a useless person.

im not depressed and haven’t been for like a year now but i can feel it creeping back in. family drama somehow found a way to me and without saying too much i don’t know who to trust anymore. people really don’t care about me as much as they lie and say they do.

on another note I’m just not motivated to do anything anymore. i wish i could just die. i don’t want to be useless. even though i am in college and stuff i still feel like my life is going to go nowhere and i’ll just be another person existing, taking up everyone else’s oxygen for no reason. i don’t deserve to live if i can’t be useful. i feel like i am incapable of doing the simplest of tasks and that makes me feel like i have no future. i wish someone would get rid of me so i don’t have to kill myself. i wish i didn’t have ADHD. i wish my mind wasn’t on a trillion things at once all the time. i wish i was easy for people to understand. i wish the smallest ripples in how i feel in a moment didn’t have the potential to make my whole day crash and burn. i really wish i was rich, and if not rich then at least normal so that i could be a functioning member of society and be able to get a job or something. i wish i had my own house but i will probably never get one because i can’t save money for the life of me. music isn’t working even though I’ve been consistently doing that since i was born (literally) so there’s another goal in the trash. i have been wasting my time with everything i try to pursue. i should just die.

i’m 19 years old and the only asset i have is the fact that i’m in college. i passed my summer one classes (i think) and i can’t even celebrate it. i can’t bring myself to be happy about that achievement. all i can do is thank God and move on. internally i’m not happy or proud of myself. even now i want to drop out. i am my biggest enemy. i’m not capable of doing things everyone else has learned to do when they were 15, 16, 17 in high school. i don’t think i have an interesting future or even a good one at all. i will die with regrets on how i lived my life. if i grow old, it will be into a life of regret of how lame i was as a youth, and how i didn’t choose to do what everyone else did. my perception on life is very skewed, but i don’t even know how to look at life anymore. i spent so much time being high and under the influence in the past few years that it was the only reality i could function in. now i’m trying to be sober again and not depend on weed to make me a normal person and the only thing it is doing is making me feel like shit inside. my self worth is only high on one day out of the week (probably because i was high that day) and for the rest of the week i feel worthless. if i killed myself i wouldn’t hurt a lot of people except for MAYBE my mom and i don’t want to do that to her.

i feel like something is wrong with me or that i am mentally retarded. everyone else seems to have the necessary brainpower to do everything they need to in life, but here i am being slow in mine. i try every day to improve my work ethic and attitude about living, but my insecurities overwhelm me. all i can think about is how dumb i feel. i feel like a stupid person. i am not intelligent or as intelligent as people make me out to be. if i was in any situation worse than i have been in in my life i probably wouldn’t make it. i thank God every day for always giving me another chance, but i feel sad because i feel like i’m wasting it. He is too merciful to someone who cannot make anything for himself. music is all i have to offer anymore. nothing about me is special or different enough for me to get recognized for. i don’t even feel like a real person anymore. i feel like i’m nobody. i should die soon and quit wasting everyone’s time, but i’m too scared to do it to myself. drugs are the only thing that “restore” me, but thats how you end up being a fucking junkie. i will never be a junkie. i’m hoping one of these days i overdose or get a bad batch of some weed or tale a strange pill or get spiked and die from it. i don’t want torture or deserve a long painful death as i haven’t done anything to earn that. the only thing that i need to do is die. quickly

[theechotrain]

The apartment

After attending university for the last three years, it feels so strange to see my student accomadation go back to how it looked when I first arrived. It is strange how when you pack all your belongings away to move out, the places where everything was before looks so unnatural; It's almost as if someone has come along in the night and changed everything that feels right.

Holding onto my bags, I look around the room one last time. Only round about now does it really set in that I won't be here, in this room, where I have spent so much time in, anymore. I cannot stay here forever though; I have to move out and get myself into the world. And it is not as if I am going to be doing it alone. I glance out of the window and see the one person who has made the last few years more tolerable.

Moira Dean. Beautiful, intelligent, witty, stubborn on what she believes in, outspoken; A.K.A she is the type of person that writers would describe as a strong female lead character that some would try taking inspiration to be like, which is why I sometimes find it strange that she would take such a course as fashion designing. She'd be able to model the clothes she has made if she really wanted to.

But yet, as much as it would suprise me that she was there and not taking something like journalism, I still met her roughly around the time we both started out on the course. We started talking and eventually learned it all together.

Everything we were taught, we would do it until we both perfected it. Everything one of us knew, the other did as well.

For instance, we both started off learning how to sew and make easy things like pillows. When we could do that, it wasn't long before the both of us soon became tied at the top of our class, no matter what it was that we were being taught. Together, we went through each lesson better then we perhaps would have alone. That doesn't mean that it was all easy though. We still struggled doing other parts of the course work.

For Moira, the planning, the  thought behind what she was making, the effort put into it, actually making it and seeing the final product in the end, all of that and more is what made being a seamstress her passion. Even if I wasn't making the same thing as her, I would also be making some form of an accessory to go along with what she was making. She specialised in it, even though it was not the only thing we both learned to do when we were there.

For me, what ended up being my forte was knitting/crochet. It is such a peaceful thing for me, even if it took me days or weeks to complete something I was working on. Working on something on the side for me has always been something to help me consentraight and think about what is important for me in the moment and what will be in the long run.

She arrives outside my door before I know it. I must have spaced out for a few minutes after spotting her. I open the door to see her standing there, ready to go. I glance around the room one last time before we leave.

The pair of us heave all of my bags over to my car, which is sitting in the car park near by, something that I am thankful for since we don't have so far to walk. On our way there, I ask Moira about the landlord we contacted about the two apartments we were both hoping to get by the time we both finished and moved out after college.

"Good news pet, the others who were interested all seemed to have something critical wrong with their applications, which pretty much means that they're all ours. I've already moved all of my stuff into mine."

She pulls out two sets of keys as she talks, shaking them a little like two tambourines before chucking my own set over to me, pocketing her own and getting into the passenger side of the car. I climb myself into the drivers side and have her give me directions as to where our apartments are.

We soon arrive and start doing the long haul back up with all the bags to where our numbers are, which are both on the same floor, along with three other apartments. I wish that I could have helped with Moira moving in but when she wants to do something on her own, she will get it done. I find my door with my key, which has the matching number in.

Unlocking the door and swinging it open, I am glad that I chose this one. The window on the opposite wall stretches from floor to ceiling and has the view that some would go the extreme for. Moira heads in before me, carrying what she is holding into the big window room while I stay standing where I am, just now looking around the rest of what I can see from where I am standing, already planning what I am going to put where.

I am pulled out of my mental planning by the sound of a door opening behind me. I turn to see who it is to see the guy who now lives opposite me. If I was the right type of person, my jaw would have dropped to my chest. A long blonde hair, tall, sweet looking metal head, his jacket covered in those patches that have bands on them. My stomach does a flip as he looks up at me. A smile crosses his face as he gives off a little wave and lets out a verbal greeting, one which I return.

He locks his door behind him before turning, pulling his headphones over his ears and heads towards the stairs. It takes me a few seconds to realise that Moira is standing in the doorway, now empty handed and is watching him walk away too.