#but i learned how to write with a fountain pen so it's my go-to everyday writing implement AND i love pretty colours

[countingnothings]

i've spent the last year with green ink (iroshizuku in shin-ryoku) in a purple pen (the ohto dude, fine nib) and purple ink (iroshizuku in murasaki-shikibu) in a white pen (vintage pen, medium nib), and at today's blessed stationery store annual sale i treated myself to grey ink (iroshizuku in fuyu-syogun) and a green pen (lamy al-star, ultra-fine nib) and now. now i have the conundrum: do i continue being anti-conformist with what colour ink lives in what pen, or do i finally colour-coordinate? or do i go based on which colour i want to use with which nib size??

[goldentemplariumcrow]

hi! which kind of pen do you think it’s the most comfortable to write with, fountain pens or rollerballs? i’m still learning about pens and i tried googling the differences between them but some websites say that fountain pens are more comfortable and others say that they’re basically the same thing, but rollerballs are more practical. also, do you think fountain pens are a lot of work? i heard someone saying that fountain pens are not worth it because the ink doesn’t even last a week and it leaks and you have to buy the right kind of paper and stuff like that… i’m still curious about fountain pens though, and i wanted to hear your opinion about it! :) thanks in advance!

Heyo, my fellow stationery lover! 🥰💕🖋🖊

It's so nice of you to ask about this, and I totally understand how it all sounds confusing depending on who and where you take your information from. I, myself, had a long run over the years to learn the differences and what works best with my writing style.

So, I'll start retroactively and sort of correct your friend there, because fountain pens and rollerball pens both need good paper to give their best performance. However, as a beginner I'd tell you to work with what you have, which means adequating your chosen pen nib to the paper you have at your immediate disposal.

As an example: I started writing on printer paper and normal everyday notebooks (those you buy in bulk from dollar store to be more precise). Sure, I didn't have the luxury of writing on both sides of the pages, because both fountain pens and rollerballs are usually heavy on the dispense of their inks in this kind of paper, but it taught me about size and flow.

Tip/Nib Size:

Fountain pens work on the range of Extra Fine, Fine, Medium, Broad, Double Broad and Stub (stubs often go from 1.0 to 3.0 size, the bigger the number the larger it'll be, they're usually associated with Goth Style calligraphy). The stub nib is also known as the italic nib, it writes thin on the horizontal and diagonals, but when doing a vertical, downward stroke, it becomes thick. (You can see some different nib sizes on the image bellow)

Rollerball pens work on a range of 0.3, 0.5, 0.7, 0.8, 1.0, 1.5, and 1.9 tips, with the easiest tips to find going from 0.3 to 0.8. And their tips will always be just simple round ones with not much variation in terms of colors. (I'm sorry for not having a photo to explain this one, but my rollerball has given up on me this Monday morning and ran the last of its drops of ink 😂 I need to get a new one)

Flow:

Fountain pens and rollerballs work in kind of the same manner in terms of dispensing their ink, they work through capilary mechanisms and gravity. You have to have them down in contact with the paper to make the ink go down to the tip/nib in order to make it work.

The flow usually derives from the kind of ink that are being dispensed and the kind of nib/tip on your pen. The bigger the nib/tip size the more ink will be dispensed on the paper and so the faster you'll need to fill the fountain pen back or buy a new rollerball/refill your rollerball.

About fountain pens not being worth it...

That's a common misconception, because in today's world a lot of people prefer to exchange customization for practicality.

Fountain pens require a little bit of maintainance, because most aren't disposable, the biggest number of them, even the cheapest ones, are meant to last if you don't simply throw it in your bag and have the bag be benchpressed by a rollertruck or be in the way of an explosion (et me tell you, I've yet to find an every day hurdle that can break a Lamy Safari PBS body and stainless steel nib @-@ it scratches and fades, but doesn't break, and I have this baby for around 10 years now, it faced two college degrees with me). A fact that becomes more evident when you see the fact that most brands design converters for their pens.

Most fountain pens can be customized to your liking, from the nib, to the feeder (the part that brings the ink from the cartridge/reservoir/converter) to the nib, to the body, to the ink you write with. They become a sort of statement of your style.

From top to bottom:

- Majohn Moonman C1 (10USD) (can be used with a converter, but I prefer to fill the body with ink for maximum capacity, around 5ml)

- Lamy Safari (20-30USD)

- Wing Sung 3008 (5USD) (built in piston sucks the ink into the pen for maximum capacity, around 2.5ml)

- Pilot Kakuno (15USD) (with Con-70 converter, around 1.7ml)

- Jinhao Centurion (10USD)

- Jinhao 9019 Dadao (10USD) (biggest converter I've ever seen, carrying up to 3ml of ink)

- Jinhao 82 (3USD)

- Tramol T100 (4USD) (full body holds 2ml)

A comparison between the nibs of the Jinhao 9019 Dadao, Jinhao 82 and Majohn Moonman C1. As you can see, I have the heartbit limited edition fine nib on the Dadao, while the 82 has a dual color nib and the Majohn has a long and slightly narrower nib. These are all customizations.

As you can see, there are fountain pens for all styles, likings and price ranges. From the thicc ones with double and triple Cs (I'm looking at you, Dadao) to the more minimalist and sturdy ones, like the Lamy Safari, which is a model that's been around in the market since the 80s and, if you want to be even more conservative, there's always the Pilot 78G and 78G+ that's been around since 1991; if you're one to love traveling, it's hard to go wrong the brass body Traveler's one too.

About the ink not lasting, spillages and all that jazz...

When you buy a fountain pen, they usually come with an ink cartridge, which in my experince last around 2 weeks with me writing daily for 8 hours a day (for my daytime job). However, that depends on the size of the cartridge, smaller ones won't last as long, but they're often the ones you can find more easily on your local stores, since this makes for a bigger compatibility between pen and cartridge due to the thickness of certain barrels (some brands have their own style of cartridges, like Parker and Pilot).

Personally I remedy this by simply having a bottle of Noodler's Ink (this one of the link even comes with a nice beginner friendly pen in the package) on the side and a make-up siringe to suck all the ink from the bottle to the cartridge that comes with the pen. It's much more enviromentally friendly than the rollerballs that usually aren't refillable.

The whole spillage happens because of mishandling. I personally only had one single episode when I was a newbie and brought a fountain pen on an airplane, the pressure change made the ink go kaboom in the pen, but my cap held up well and all I had to do was wash it once I landed. I know some people who are heavy handed also have ink spillage accidents, but again, that's due to mishandling, as fountain pens don't require pressure to get the ink writing on the paper. And, of course, like any liquid, if you shake it hard enough, it will, eventually, spill everywhere in one way or another, but that is a risk that also exists on rollerballs.

Which one is better: Fountain Pens or Rollerball Pens?

I can't emphazise enough that this is an opinion and I enjoy most writing instruments, for each has their very own beauty.

Personally, see fountain pens as a long-time commitment while the rollerballs are more of a shortterm "save me in a pinch" type of pen.

Fountain pens often help correct writing vices that cause harm to the hands and wrists, they train you to slow down for a moment to mind your grip and angle, and in exchange give you the beautiful experience of premium writing with an instrument that's all your own, if not by nib and body, by ink, because every single fountain pen lover has their very own favorite (if not beloved) shade. They give you a freedom that other pens don't usually give in terms of color, you can even like a simple everyday blue, but you can choose from a Pilot Kon-peki to a Waterman Inspire Blue, and don't get me started on the inks that change shade once they dry out or that have metalic shimmer mixed in their composition.

Rollerballs will save me if I don't have my fountain pen with me (I carry a Lamy Safari everywhere I go) and need to jolt down some quick notes, but not write for a long while. They don't feel so good, because my angle of writing (near 45°).

In summary: I wrote this post defending the fountain pens, because I know the discourse of them being obsolete and inpractical that's everywhere, but I see both rollerballs and fountain pens as excellent writing instruments that deserve equal space in our lives, pen pouches and pencil cases 🥰💕🖋🖊

I hope this helps you a little, my fellow writing friend.

Happy writing!

[hikarimiyanaga]

I'll Always Be Yours Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Second Song: Eroplanong Papel (Paper Airplane)

You finally leave Russia to go to America and try to find the love of your life.

An update!?

I just need to write three more songs and I will finally finish this series. And while doing that I'm also writing a Wanda fanfic too.

.....

I'm suddenly writing fanfics again, considering that there's like a hundred plots waiting for me in my phone.

*shrugs*

Oh well. Inspiration hits when Inspiration hits.

Warning : More Angst

Wait, don't be filled with misery

The hope you dream of will also come

Isn't it enough that you have love

In your heart that is irreplaceable?

You smiled

-

You yawn as you go through the mall. You’ve finally decided to come to America to hopefully find Natalia. It’s been a week since you’ve got here.

“Y/N?” A hopeful voice calls out your name and you turn eagerly… only to be met by fangirls.

“Yes. It’s me.” They squeal and ask for photos, which you oblige to. When they leave, you sigh in relief.

“Rough girls?” You grin as you face Silvia. She’s your bodyguard who doesn’t really stop fangirls because she’s one of them. She’s been a fan of your paintings since you started.

“Not really. Just… America is intense.” Silvia scoffs at that.

“More intense than Russia?” You laugh at that and shake your head.

“Than Philippines.”

“Ah.” You hum and the two of you begin walking again. As you walk by a fountain, you could see that it’s base was occupied by couples. And you can’t help but remember her.

Her soft lips that you can’t get enough of. Her hands that seemed to mold with yours. Her sexy body that you can’t stop worshipping. Her voice that pants out your name. Her laugh that you could equivalate to heaven.

A single lone tear escapes your eye and Silvia eyes you worriedly. You quickly wipe the tear away and wave away her concern. And then you smile. Those memories… you hope to make them anew and add even more to them. God, you hope you’re not too late.

-

Blow the wind in your hand cold

Moaning voice, in my hearing

Your thoughts and feelings will fly away

Can it still get to her side?

You close your eyes

-

It’s winter now. You write in your journal. You decided to let Silvia on her own vacation after she spent the last five months with you just roaming around on this country. You blow into your gloved hands, hoping to ease the cold. You were in Alaska and it was cold as fuck. Damn.

Journal, it’s been months since I’ve been here… Can I ever find her? Is there hope? Even if there isn’t. I just want to see her one more time. To remember why I wake up every day. Why I still wait for her heart to come back to mine. I don’t care if she’s happy with another person or if she’s forgotten me. Just please. Let me see her. Let me see the love of my life.

You whine as you put your pen down. That’s it. Tomorrow, you’re leaving… Is this why your mom makes sure to leave Russia when winter comes around? Goddamn, you’re lucky she always takes you to the Philippines for Christmas. You read over your words and close the journal. You close your eyes and hope the words reach her.

‘Please, whoever the fuck I have to believe I will believe. Just. Let me see her again.’

-

If my prayers are not heard

Reach out at every moment

I have to shout, I'm yours

The prayer of the heart is you

-

You’re in Los Angeles now. You’ve been here for three days and you’ve been drunk every single night. It was a temporary high, you know, but it makes you forget about her even if it’s just for the night. You stumble upon your hotel room and reach the balcony. You’re not that drunk to think to jump off from the 15th floor but you’re that drunk to shout out your frustrations.

“GODDAMN IT!” You shout and no one replies, only various car noises and loud music. “JUST ONCE! FUCKING HELL! I JUST NEED TO SEE HER AGAIN!” You didn’t care if it was hurting your voice. You wanted to do something to ease the pain you’ve been feeling. You sob as you slide down on the floor. “I JUST WANT TO SEE NATALIA AGAIN!” You punch the floor and wince as your fist connected to the solid rock. “I’M STILL YOURS, NATALIA! PLEASE!” You breakdown and sob as you hug your knees to your chest.

Damn it. It was the only thing your heart wanted. Her. So why can’t you find her?

“Goddamn it.” You say and you sob again.

-

Wait, don't hold back your tears

Your feelings will rise to the ceased destiny

Your palm will reach the desire

Can it still get to her side?

You close your eyes

-

You were now in a random mall. You took a deep breath when you see her red hair. You were about to call out when she kisses the man behind her and all of your words. Your declarations of love get stuck in your throat. And all you can think about-

“Oh.” You say then you laugh. Many people look at you but not her. Never her. It seems that she has really forgot you. Your tears fall down before you can even stop and you cover your mouth to not let the sobs out. Then you realize… was it really her? You stop outside and you see them both get into the car. You meet her eyes for a second and all you could see was unfamiliar. She was not yours anymore. She’s not the Natalia you always knew. The Natalia that you’ve loved. But as the man pulls away from the parking lot, you hold a fist over your heart… Because damn it. She really does still have that effect on you. You close your eyes as you hear their car drive away. You let the pain wash over your whole body and you kneel.

You finally saw Natalia again… But she was not yours anymore. You sob louder this time as you make your way to your car. You lock it and sob your heart out.

-

And with every stiffness of my resentment

You will not be approached

I’ll Just beg

If my prayers are not heard

Reach out at every moment

I have to shout, I'm yours

The prayer of the heart is you

-

You stand outside the Avengers Compound and sigh. You researched on her. She goes by Natasha now. You resent her. You gave away your life for her. Every single time that people begged you to let her go and you still held on. You gave away every single year just to fucking wait for her. To make sure that she has someone to go home to. And she was here. Enjoying life with Steve Rogers. The wonder boyfriend. Captain America himself. You scoff as you let the pain take over your heart.

“Hello?” You turn and see Steve Fucking Rogers himself approach you. He’s holding bags of groceries and you smile sadly at him. “Can I help you, ma’am?” He asks politely and you almost punch him… but you knew that it wouldn’t do anything. He’s a super soldier for fuck’s sake… and you… you’re just you. Nothing but a past memory and a phantom from her previous life.

“Just.” You pause as you try to get the words out. “Please. Take care of her.” He tilts his head in confusion.

“Who?”

“Nat.” You grin.

“Oh. Do you know her?” You shake your head at him and begin walking away. Tears fall down as you walk away from the compound’s gates.

-

“Well, that was weird.” Steve says as he steps into the kitchen.

“What was?” Natasha asks as she eats the remaining sandwich that she got herself.

“There was someone outside. A woman.”

“And?”

“She was just staring at the compound when I arrived. Then she asked me to take care of you.”

“What? Me?”

“Yeah. Nat can only be you, right?” She drops her sandwich and grabs Steve’s collars.

“What direction did she go?” Steve furrows his brows at her behavior.

“To the park? Do you know her?” Natasha nods and quickly gets her jacket and wait for the elevator to take her down.

“I think so!” She answers as the doors closes.

-

She runs to the park and tries to find you. She smiles as she spots your hooded figure. She runs to you but she slowly comes to a stop as she hears you sing. And oh was your voice beautiful to her ears. But your tone… You were crying as you sang.

You let the music drown out your pain and you begin singing along as you cry. It was as if these lyrics were made for you. You sang in Filipino as you learned it in all your trips there.

Natasha cries silently as she listens to your broken voice. Your quiet sobs and hiccups. What has she done? Why didn’t she come for you sooner? She’s always thought that you were better off without her. That being with her meant that you were also in danger. But as you sit there, singing while crying, she couldn’t help but want to punch herself. You’re crying. And goddamn it, if you were not beautiful. Natasha never forgot you.

She sits besides you and you don’t notice, still wanting to get all of your pain out before you go back. Before you paint again. You finally stop and pant.

“Nice song.” She says but you don’t answer. You were still trying to catch your breath. And she let you rest before talking again. “Y/N.” She calls out but you don’t answer again. Were you avoiding her? She then notices the earphones on your ears and how she can faintly hear music. God. How loud was the thing?

You close your eyes and sigh. She takes an earphone out and you flinch away as you stand. Who the fuc-? Your words die on your mouth, the moment you see her.

“Nat.” You say softly and she smiles at you.

“Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted-“

“It’s too late, Nat.” She flinches and you take a step back. You run a hand through your hair. “You should go back and I will too.” You put on your hoodie and power walk away from her.

Nat was about to go after you when her phone suddenly rings. She sighs and answers it when she sees that it’s Fury.

A/N:

I'm not crying, you are. Also, no one can stop me from killing myself with Angst.

I'm considering of posting for everyday if possible? Considering I'm going to be home, doing absolutely nothing since Professor are actually considerate for our health... Which is new.

So if I do finish some time this day or next week, then everyday it is.

[sope-and-shine]

The Right of a King: Pt. 2

-> SFW // Soulmate!AU // fluff, angst // mummy!Namjoon -> Pairing: Namjoon x Reader -> Word Count: 18.7k  -> Summary: Life as the night guard for your local high-end museum was supposed to be simple and easy. The most dangerous part of your job was only supposed to be the middle-aged patrons who insisted they get a discount for a line being too long. Nowhere in your contract did it say you’d be taking care of a 1,000 year old king that had been mummified. Thankfully, for you he’s harmless, but the storm that comes with him is not as welcoming. -> Warning(s): mild language, brief crude humor, misogyny still exists, overuse of the word wench but not by Namjoon, brief mention of death, brief mention of illness, Jimin is STILL that salesman that uses his charm to steal your money and your boyfriends money - but will anyone complain? no. , kdrama ending - if you know you know, mild violence

a/n: Thank you @sakuraguks-main​ for checking this out before posting! You really came in clutch for this one 

also i SWEAR NAMJOON WILL GET A HAPPY ENDING 

Part 1 // Masterlist

*

*

*

Who would have thought that your life could turn up like this? You didn’t have any intention of ever falling for the man who literally scared the shit out of you when you first met him, but now you can’t help but blush when you think about him. The look of content he has when he views a new exhibit, the gentle smile he shares with you when you bring him food for the night. Some of his mannerisms are still very annoying, but he’s much more endearing than you initially gave him credit for.

He’s lightened up over the past few days as you’ve grown to know each other more. You’ve put in an effort to not patronize him, and he’s made a much greater effort to not to offend you with comments regarding your gender. Teaching him about misogyny was a night you won’t forget.

You spent half an hour just teaching him how your phone worked. Thankfully, he grasped the concept that it was much like the kiosks around the museum, only the smaller device did much more. You also threw in a quick explanation on the internet and it’s wonders, using that very interesting lesson to segway into your talk about women of power.

The woman on the screen throws another punch into the man’s jaw, cutting up and effectively knocking him back into the cage surrounding the ring. She advances on him and continues to throw punch after punch until a call is made and she steps back into her corner.

“Is he dead?” Namjoon asks, watching the man crumple to the ground through the tiny screen.

You chuckle at his assumption, “Not dead, but he’ll definitely feel all of those tomorrow when he wakes up.”

“She has excellent precision!” He praises, “I can’t believe the women of this era are so fierce.” He taps the screen to try to rewind the video like you showed him before, but he can’t seem to tap the screen just right. He huffs, “Infernal contraption…”

You laugh at him and he glares at you, “You think this is funny?”

“No! Not at all~” You say, all the while trying to hold your laughter back.

Namjoon is unimpressed with your amusement and pushes at your shoulder, “Don’t be so childish.”

He’d usually get annoyed with you when you’d laugh at his shortcomings and achievements. Every huff over the kiosk and every curious press of the button at the water fountain is met with a small giggle from you. You just can’t help it when his eyebrows furrow and a little pout appears on his face, and you’d found it harder to ignore his excited little dance when he did something new. 

“Alright, I’ll stop.” 

Despite annoying the king to no end, he did enjoy your lesson for him. He also learned that he enjoyed boxing and the political diplomats of the 21st century. For some reason, both seemed to go hand in hand for him, but you weren’t going to question his sudden enjoyments of your world. He was known to read and write in his free time before his death - not to mention the battles he faced when the situation arose. Introducing him to women proving their strengths in both probably ignited a fire that he hadn’t been able to experience since before his death. 

As a way to help him, you decide to bring him a notebook and some felt tip pens. It wouldn’t be like anything he was used to, but it would give him an outlet for himself. Sure he had you to talk to, but you weren’t exactly ideal. With a pen and paper, he’d be able to write out his own thoughts and feelings for himself. He wouldn’t have to worry about holding it all in or hoping you’ll understand how he feels.

Handing them to him is a nerve wracking experience itself. This wasn’t just walking around the museum to look at the exhibits as an act of kindness, this was a gift. He didn’t ask for it, and you were so nervous that he wouldn’t even like color.

“What are these?” he asks, taking the bag from your hand. He opens the top and looks inside, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I stopped by the store on my way here.” You grab the top of the bag and pull it towards you, letting him hold it open so you can pull out the materials inside. You show him the light blue cover of the notebook and flip it open to showcase the pages, “It’s a notebook so you can write down your thoughts when you don’t want to say them to me.”

“I see.” He nods in understanding. He looks into the bag and reaches in to pull out the felt tipped pen you’d bought just for him. He looks even more confused than he had before, holding the plastic container between his fingers. “This is what you’re using to write with now?”

“It’s called a pen.” You set the notebook back in the bag and take the pen from him, pulling the cap off so he can see the tip. You draw a line on the back of your hand before showing him the mark you made, “They put all the ink inside one part so you can write with this part. The cap is so your ink doesn’t dry or bleed out.”

You hand him the open pen and let him try, allowing him to draw on your hand so he can try it himself. Seeing the black line appear in one clean stroke by his own hand, he becomes mesmerized, “Genius.”

“At the end of the night, you can tuck them away by your feet so you can keep them close. Just make sure the pen clicks when you put the cap on.” You explain. You hand him the cap to the pen and watch him carefully put it back in place, laughing when he flinches at the clicking sound. “Did that scare you?”

“It most certainly did not! It was just too loud!” He argues, attempting to defend his pride.

“Oh, no! The great King Kim Namjoon is afraid of a teeny tiny pen!” You tease, laughing at his expense.

“I am not scared of the pen!” He whines, unamused by your teasing. You continue to poke fun at him, even as he protests against you.

CRASH

A loud, metallic clanging interrupts your small dispute. Before you can even turn your head to see what it could have been, Namjoon grabs your arm to pull you into his embrace. He has your face pressed against his firm chest, a hand cradling the back of your head to hold you close. You can feel his muscular arms through the thin fabric of his shirt pressing against your back to keep you in place and protected from whatever danger may be lurking in the hall.

“What is that?” He asks, more to himself than for you.

“-Ah owno!” You mumble against his chest, unable to properly pronounce your words. You push against his chest and tap his sides until he finally lets you move back far enough for you to try again, “I don’t know.”

Namjoon pulls you over to a display case - the one that runs parallel to the kiosk wall - and presses your back against the wood. He looks around the case before he turns back to you with the most concern you’ve seen on him since you’ve met. “Stay here.” 

“No.” You try to push him off, but Namjoon’s grip is firm. 

He levels his face with yours, “(Y/n), I’m not letting you put yourself into potential danger!” 

“Namjoon, that’s my job!” You remind him, “If someone is out there, then I need to report it! Let me go.” 

You try your best to push against him, not wanting to use excessive force if you really don’t have to. Only Namjoon still refuses to budge, “No. You can’t protect yourself properly, I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh, I can’t protect myself?” You ask. In all fairness, he’d never seen you in action besides when you first met, and you could only manage to scream and back away from him at the time. Now, you were in a real situation that required your immediate attention, and he was mocking you for not being strong enough!

“No, you ca-Ah!” Instead of allowing him to continue, you kick your right leg out and wrap it behind his, pulling it towards you as you push against his shoulders at the same time. He falls to the floor with a thud.

“Now, how about you stay here and I’ll go check out what’s going on?” You suggest, leaning over him as he holds the back of his head.

He tries to sit up and falls back down with a grunt, “Yeah...that sounds like a good idea.”

You leave Namjoon lying on the wooden planks and go to investigate the sound. You pull your flashlight from your belt loop and peek around the entryway. The hall itself is completely empty, no signs of anyone having been in the hall. Making small, quiet steps to the next exhibit, you see that it’s gate is still intact and locked just as you had left it. 

A hand places itself on your shoulder and you don’t hesitate to kick behind you. You turn over your left shoulder to hit your assailant in the neck, but you quickly stop when you see it’s only Namjoon who’s bent over himself behind you.

“Namjoon!” You rush forward to comfort him, holding his arm with one hand and rubbing his back. “I am so sorry.”

He applies pressure to his shin where a patch of dirt is left from your shoe. He looks up, “You are surprisingly good at that.” 

You bend down, leaning over yourself to look at Namjoon on his level, “Yeah, self defense classes come in handy for everyday criminals. They don’t really teach you what to do when an ancient mummy breaks free from his coffin.”

“Sarcophagus.” He corrects.

You scoff, “Is there really a difference?” 

“Ow...” 

You and Namjoon exchange a worried glance, unsure of what to think. The hall was empty and the exhibit was still locked, so whoever spoke had to have been hiding within the exhibit and you’d missed them during your sweep. They wouldn’t be the first to try, but they would be the first success. You’ll be lucky if Hoseok and Yoongi don’t fire you on the spot when they get here. 

You move to the gate, “Alright, you’ve had your fun-” 

You stop.

Looking at the exhibit from the doorway, you don’t see anyone at all. No human being stands anywhere within the exhibit. However, the artifacts that line the room are more than just the usual ‘eye catching’ that patrons would describe them as.  

They’re alive.

It’s truly a scene from a movie, watching the paintings on the wall move in ripples as their paint begins to stretch with every push against their canvas’. Statues along the rooms edges move with ear-piercing screeches and subtle creaks, their bodies slowly moving of their own volition. In the next room over, the statues move as well. Extraordinary and familiar, you can’t help but to stare in awe at the scene before you.

Namjoon shares the same sentiments, only he’s even more amazed, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” He asks. His jaw is slack and brown eyes as wide as a curious child. Between the both of you, he should be the one that’s used to the scene.

You can’t help but nudge him, “Now you know how I felt.”

He shakes his head, still enraptured in wonder, “It’s amazing~”

“Yeah…” You look over the room, watching the pieces that can move freely begin to roam. Each one is different as they allow their curiosity to take over. They remind you of Namjoon the second night he had been awake; each confused yet determined to learn more about their surroundings.

In the second room over - the one that connects to the exhibit - you find only a few of the artifacts have also come to life. It’s strange, but you don’t question the magic of the supposed moon goddess. Instead, you and Namjoon enjoy the new company given to you through the night, and you ensure they return to their rightful places at the end of the night.

* * *

“He told those children that I rode tigers around my palace in my freetime! I did no such thing!” Namjoon rages, arms flailing about. With each angry word, his arms move back and forth as if they’re constructing an invisible masterpiece,  “I protected and rehabilitated it! I imprisoned many a man that sought those beautiful creatures for such purposes, and I will not accept such ridiculous claims against me!”

Neither you, nor Namjoon had gone to the exhibit next door. He’d been on a tangent about Jeongguk’s inaccuracies since you met him at his gate and he pulled you in. Apparently, he’d woken up during the day, unable to remain asleep. He’d spent quite a bit just thinking in the dark while casually listening to the conversations that happened beyond his resting place. He’d heard a couple argue, two friends making fun of his portrait, and even an elderly woman paying her respects to him. But no conversation he heard was as important to him as Jeongguk’s ‘outrageous’ claims to a group of random school children.

“It’s like he thinks I am a joke! Am I a joke?” He turns to you with such a heated glare, you almost feel bad when your face breaks into a smile. Namjoon seems to pick up on your thoughts when he sees this and his frown forms into a thin line, “Nevermind, I don’t wish to hear your opinion anymore.” 

“You shouldn’t take it to heart. Jeongguk isn’t the most educated person among the museum staff.” You say, attempting to reassure him. However, it only seems to anger him more.

“Why not? He works in one of the most wonderful places in the world, and he chooses to ignore the precious history around him?!” He spits, resembling the same king you had first met. His hardened gaze was nothing but cold and spiteful, “How selfish can he be to not take advantage of such a wonderful opportunity?”

“Woah, chill out. Jeongguk isn’t the brightest tool in the shed, but he’s one of the most hardworking!” You defend. You knew better than anyone that Jeongguk was not the best candidate for the job, but he was always looking to improve. Above everything, he always put his everything into studying the exhibits - even if it wasn’t spot on, “Sure, the information may not stick or he may not remember it exactly as it is, but he’s a nice kid.”

“I just don’t see why he’s perfectly fine with learning it wrong.” Namjoon takes a moment to think, really thinking about what you said before he continues, “If I were him, then I would do everything I possibly could to learn about these exhibits and that my information is accurate.”

Your expression softens and Namjoon sighs, “I just want to know more about this world. If I am to be stuck in this era, then I want to experience it all for myself! I want to know what I’ve missed.”

What do you say to him? A simple ‘I’m sorry’ will only go so far. There’s only so much you can do for him in his current situation. If you could let him leave then you would, but he has no papers, no family, and no experience. He’d be forced to leave without question if someone found him as he is now, but you can’t decide if that would be worse than keeping him locked away in the museum for the rest of his life. If you were forced to, you’d go crazy. To think about being stuck in his position…?

“Namjoon-!” You try to speak up, but his hand raises to stop you.

“It’s alright. I know you can’t do anything to help me.” His smile is bittersweet as he shows it to you, his dimples nowhere near his cheeks. He clears his throat and stands, “I think I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight. I’d like to be alone.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting him to be alone.

“I’m sure.” He nods his head and hands you his empty food box, “I’ll see you tomorrow as usual.”

You allow him to walk away from you, disappearing to the back of his exhibit with a certain stiffness. It’s like he’s reverted into the shell of the king he was that first night, only this one is choosing to hide from you this time. Even when you leave and wish him goodnight, he doesn’t say it back. He isolates himself, and you’re disappointed to find he’s still by himself when you come back at the end of the night. 

Even after the other exhibit is double checked and the morning shift arrives to clock in, you’re still thinking about Namjoon. Especially when Jeongguk arrives with his morning coffee order. It was hard to not think about what he had said and the experiences he was missing out on. There was so much he could be doing, but instead he was locked away like a caged animal.

You mull over these thoughts as you replace your security jacket with your outside coat. They weigh heavy on your mind even as the break room begins to fill with the morning shift. You’re so distracted, you almost miss Hoseok greeting you.

“(Y/n)! Have a good night?” He asks, unaware of your own personal conflict.

You nod in return, “Yeah! It was as eventful as usual.”

“I bet the air conditioner kicking on really gave you a run for your money.” Taeyang jokes, reminding you of your first shift on the job when he had helped to train you.

“Oh, doesn’t it always.” You reply, a light roll of your eyes expressing your amusement. You set your flashlight on the top shelf and close your locker. Turning back to the table where your things lie, you look at Hoseok, “Did you find anyone for the night shift?”

“No, not yet.” He says. Only this time, it’s almost a relief to know you get to keep Namjoon to yourself for just a bit longer. 

You nod and grab your bag off the table, “Okay, just keep me in the loop.”

“Actually-!” Hoseok stops you before you get too far, “You’ve been working a lot of hours and I really appreciate your hard work. Why don’t you take the weekend off and I’ll cover your shift.”

“Oh!” You contemplate his offer for only a moment, “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” He asks, his head tilting to the side.

You know he means well, but all you can think about is Namjoon waiting for you to show up and being greeted with Hoseok instead. You don’t even bother to think about the exhibit next to his that’s also come to life. If Hoseok finds Namjoon, then he’ll call the police and then you’ll never see him again.

You smile, trying to mask your nerves, “I mean, are you sure? That’s two whole nights-”

“-Three!” He interrupts, “You deserve a break and I’m not taking no for an answer. Go out to a club or something. Stay home and watch a drama. Do something other than sit in the office and have fun.”

You honestly haven’t thought about doing anything fun since you’ve started to appreciate Namjoon’s presence more. If anything, you’d rather spend the nights at the museum with Namjoon rather than at home alone. 

That’s when the idea hits you.

If you take Friday off, then you can sneak Namjoon out Friday morning. You can take him home with you and show him what the outside world is really like, rather than him watching from a window. You could take him to try street food, the Han River, the sea. There’s so much that you could show him, but you only have so much time to do so.

You agree to Hoseok’s offer and wave goodbye, for once walking out of the museum with some pep in your own steps. Later that night when you return, you’ve added a tape measure to your bag of things. Namjoon is more than confused when you accost him before giving him his food for the night.

“Am I having something tailored?” He asks, his body tense as you place the measuring tape against his shoulder.

“No, but I am buying you clothes.” You say, looking at the measurement you got so you can record it as well. 

“What for?” He asks.

You look away from your phone for only a moment, meeting his eyes before you turn back to your screen, “Do you want to see more of today’s world, or do you want to stay in this museum?”

“You’re taking me out?” You can practically see the excitement in his features without even looking at him. It makes you happy to know he’s happy, but at the same time, you know it might mean more to both of you than you’re willing to admit.

“Just for the weekend.” You tell him. You take his food out of the bag you brought and hand it over, “This is just a friendly gesture, so don’t think anything of it.”

“I won’t. Promise.” His smile is taught, and you know he’s disappointed more than anything to hear the words leave your mouth. But at least you’ll be able to make him smile in less than 48 hours.

“Good.” You grab your own food and take the initiative to sit down first, “I’ll figure the rest out later, but I need to make sure I can convince the other exhibit not to move for the next 3 nights tonight.”

“I’ll help you!” He insists.

That night when the both of you finish eating, Namjoon assists you in talking to the other exhibit. He uses the moment to work on his social skills once again, pretending that he’s speaking to other humans of the modern age. It’s both amusing and heartwarming to watch him, the bright smile he offers to every living artifact that he speaks to. Even more so, they each treat him with so much respect and kindness. To them, he is a king, and they have no problem treating him as such.

Even after you’ve talked to everyone and you’ve closed the exhibit for the night, you spend your night walking the museum halls with Namjoon. You let him practice with modern slang sheets you found on the internet while you order clothes to pick up for him, stifling your laughter when he uses words you’d never heard anyone his age use. It’s endearing to listen to him practice, and it excites you to know you’ll get to show him his first real glimpse of the world so foreign to him.

It’s all you can think about on your way home, before you go to sleep, and when you wake up in the afternoon. Waiting in line to pick up his clothes, you can only think about Namjoon waiting in line. You think about the mistakes he might make and the blush on his cheeks when he realizes he made a mistake. Walking along the sidewalk, you think about Namjoon seeing a car up close for the first time. Would he be scared? Would he try to break into one?

You’ll be keeping a very close eye on him around cars.

Your coworkers give you curious stares as you walk in with more bags than usual, but none press you about what you’re doing with them. Everything is moving seamlessly, and even Taehyung gives you an easy time kicking him out of the museum. You thought Namjoon would give you a hard time as well, but you’re pleasantly surprised when the man giddily takes the bags from you.

You leave him to put on the first outfit you picked for him, leaving his exhibit open to come find you when he’s done. The whole night that you spend finishing your paperwork and your rounds for the night, reminding the other exhibit that they have to be still for the next few days. When you finally catch up to Namjoon again, you’re almost speechless to see him in casual clothing. If you’d known a pair of jeans, a white shirt, and a simple green jacket would look so good, you would have bought them for him the second day you’d known him.

“Do I look okay?” He asks, unsure of himself in the new style of clothes.

“Perfect! Now, follow me.” You both leave his exhibit, you locking the gate before leading him down the stairs. You take him all the way to the lower level storage space where new exhibit pieces are loaded from the large dock doors. You find the right key for the padlock and open one side just enough for the both of you to look through. “You wait out here on that bench right over there. Don’t leave that bench.”

“Why not?” He asks.

You shrug, “Because I said so.” 

“I am a king!” He reminds you, puffing his chest more than necessary.

You shake your head, “And I'm the queen of I don’t give 2 shits. Go park yourself on that bench and stay there or I’ll end you myself.” You push him out the door and wave him off, Namjoon stumbling to catch his balance.

“Well, you don’t have to be so violent.” He grumbles, dusting himself off, “I will not remove myself from the bench until you allow me to do so, queen of not giving 2 shits.”

“Thank you.” You laugh, paying his scowl no mind. You close the door, but you open it once more before he gets too far, “I’ll be out soon.”

You lock the dock doors back up and rush yourself upstairs, double checking the exhibit to make sure everything is in place and there’s no trash left about. You return to security and clean up your own belongings, waiting only 15 minutes before your morning shift comes to liberate you. Packing up and clocking out is a breeze, sparing only a moment to say goodbye to those who greet you. All of your focus is on returning to Namjoon before he decides to wander off.

Going through the employee entrance, you walk along the side of the building to get to the back. It only takes you a minute along the sidewalk before you make it to the bench where the king sits in his new clothes. He sits with his usual pristine posture, watching the cars and people pass in front of him. He reminds you of a child - a very overgrown child - watching the world around him for the first time. It’s almost as if for the first time he’s seeing everything in color, and every sight is one to cherish.

“Enjoying the view?” You ask, catching him off guard.

He jumps at first, but his shoulders relax when he realizes it’s just you. He nods, “Yeah. It’s different in the light.”

“Things usually are.” You agree. You let him rake his eyes over the city, allowing him to experience the early morning beauty for just a few moments longer. He looks so at peace with the world seeing a true sunrise for the first time since he last walked the Earth. His lungs taking in large breaths of fresh air instead of the cold museum air that he’s grown accustomed to. Pair it with his new clothing, he looks as though he’s spent his whole life in the 21st century with you.

When you feel a yawn crawling up on you is when you decide it’s time to leave, “Let’s go back to my place to get some sleep and then I can show you everything you’ve been missing.”

You can tell he’s reluctant to go, his entire body tensing as his hand unintentionally grips the bench as if it would ground him there for just 5 minutes more. But instead of voicing his desire to stay, he nods and stands to join you, “I would be honored to be shown to your apartment.”

—-

It’s just past 1:30 in the afternoon when you wake up, the soft melody of your alarm ringing in the small confines of your loft. The rays of sun coming from your apartment windows hits the decor of your loft just right, bouncing off of your mirror and sending a sliver of light to cover your eyes. You’re more than tempted to hit snooze and turn yourself over to catch just a few more precious hours of sleep, but the lingering thoughts of showing Namjoon what your world has to offer him are much more desirable.

You pull yourself out of bed and stumble into your house slippers, your left foot missing the sock you’d fallen asleep with. You allow yourself to stretch your arms above your head before you walk downstairs, finding the King exactly where you had left him on your couch. Though, instead of sitting as stiff as a board, he’s folded over the arm of your couch with one arm clutching the blue koala throw pillow you’d bought online - You can only imagine how long he sat on your couch holding the same posture before he finally passed out.

You decide to let him continue resting and get yourself ready for the rest of your day. You take a quick shower, doing your face routine in between the shampooing, the conditioning, and the scrubbing. You dry most of your hair with a towel before leaving it to air dry while you throw on some jeans and a sweater and some light makeup to enhance your features. When that’s done, you head back to the living room to wake up the peaceful king.

“Namjoon-” You shake his shoulder gently, not wanting to startle him. You nudge his shoulder and call his name a few times before his eyes flutter open and close, “Namjoon, we have a lot to do in very little time! You have to get up so we can get some food!”

“Have the food brought to my room, Jihye…” Namjoon mumbles, his face contorting as his eyes squeeze shut and his arms pull the pillow closer to him.

You giggle at the way his nose scrunches, “I’m not Jihye, your majesty. You’re not in your time period anymore, remember?” 

The king’s eyes open and you’re met with tired brown eyes. For a moment, there’s an air of sadness as he takes in your appearance, but it leaves as quickly as it appears. He sits up quick and stretches his arms above his head, his white t-shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin.

You turn away from him, feeling the embarrassment climb to your ears as you walk towards the door, “You should put your jacket back on so we can go and eat.”  

“Yes! I’m starving,” He says. He follows you to the front door where both of your shoes sit, sliding on the laceless shoes you’d bought for him.

You put on your own before you grab your jackets out of the closet, “Here.” You hand him his and unbunch yours to slip it on.

“Let me!” Namjoon drops his own jacket in favor of yours, straightening the article of clothing for you to put on. 

You only stare at him in awe, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to,” he explains, his dimpled smile gracing his cheeks. You let him hold the jacket for you, allowing him to help guide your arms into the sleeves. The whole time you’re trying to hold your breath, as if even one hitch or loud exhale would give away your thoughts or feelings. His hands smooth the shoulders of your coat down before they're gone and he’s picking up his own jacket, “Good?”

“Yeah! Good.”

It’s only a small walk to the cafe a block from your apartment. Upon arrival, you try your best to figure out what drink would best suit Namjoon’s tastes. He didn’t necessarily have a sweet tooth, but he didn’t enjoy the bitter drinks you’d brought him either. You eventually settle on ordering him an americano and letting him choose a sandwich to eat. Neither of you talk much as you eat together, you instead let Namjoon enjoy the new atmosphere and the view from the window as he eats. It’s when he bumps his plate off the table and sends it splattering against the concrete floor that you decide it’s best to leave for the aquarium ahead of schedule.

You pull him to the bus stop as the bus rolls to a stop, only waiting in the line for a moment before you file onto the bus behind everyone else. As you turn your phone to scan the bus pass on the back of your case, you feel a tug on your other hand.

“(Y/n)!” Namjoon whispers harshly.

“What?” You ask, nervously eyeing the bus driver as you scan the pass again.

“Is this safe?” He asks.

“Namjoon-” You laugh. Of course he would think it isn’t safe. Hell, on the right day you don’t either! You pull him down the aisle to find a seat at the back of the bus to sit down before you answer his question, “Of course this is safe. I know it’s loud and it shakes, but I wouldn’t put you in any unnecessary danger.”

“You’re right,” He sighs. He squeezes your hand, his deep brown eyes meeting your own, “I trust you.”

The words alone are enough to make your stomach twist into knots. You feel warm and tingly and you quickly find something outside of the bus to catch his attention instead, “Look-” You point in front of his face, finding an intricate statue in front of a building approaching, “-isn’t that cool!?”

He turns to admire the sculpture and you take in a much needed breath. Keeping him distanced from you was going to be an issue. Even if you do fall for him and you never take him back to the museum, how would you explain where he’s from? How would he get a job? How would he be able to do anything other than live in your home if he wasn’t a real person anymore? 

“Where are we going?” Namjoon asks, pulling you from your inner turmoil.

You can’t help but smile, knowing that this will be one of the best surprises for the King since you’d brought him his journal, “I’m going to take you to see something you’ve never seen before.”

After quite a few stops and many questions from Namjoon, you finally get off of the bus in front of the tall blue building. Over the doors reads ‘Seoul Aquarium’ in colorful lettering, standing out against the plain white of the sign.

“Aquarium?” Namjoon reads, his head tilted in confusion. He turns to you with his skeptical gaze, “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll show you?” You offer, squeezing his hand that’s still connected to your own.

The both of you enter the building and you’re immediately surrounded by a dim atmosphere highlighted by waves of light that glisten off the floor and the walls. The white walls of the interior are decorated by multiple pictures and colorful murals. The ceiling - high and vaulted - holds a large models of different fish suspended, the portion closest to the ground protected by a small fence in the center of the room. Multiple exhibits lay beyond, but a quick trip through the ticket line holds you back.

You guide Namjoon through the roped off line to get your tickets, but his attention doesn’t leave the main room the entire time. His eyes dance over every detail of the room while you wait in line and as you speak to the teller in the booth for your tickets. Even as you lead him into the room itself, his eyes are still trying to catch every last square inch. With the king thoroughly distracted, you take the chance to look at the aquarium’s layout to see which way you should go first.

There were of course the sharks and the dolphins, they would definitely surprise the king to see ‘a beast’ so large. Then again, there were the jellyfish and the underwater walkways as well, mesmerizing and unthinkable for him as a man of another century. But the intractable exhibits would be so much more exciting for him to experience, being able to really touch sea animals you wouldn’t normally be able to. It��s all so wonderful to think about, but where to start is going to really set the stage for him.

And you know just what will make him happiest.

“Namjoon-” He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours, fleeting to the side to see one more piece of art for just a moment before they’re on yours again. You giggle, “-are you ready to see the first exhibit?” He nods and you lead the way to your first stop. 

On the right side of the building is another line of people, all waiting patiently to enter past a rubber curtain maintained by an employee standing behind a podium. As you wait, Namjoon begins to bounce, becoming restless until he can’t stop himself from asking, “Is this another museum?”

“It is!” You nod, “Only the exhibits here are supposed to be alive.” Namjoon’s cheeks darken and you can’t stop the endeared smile that adorns your own features, “I think you’ll really like this, Namjoon.”

When it’s finally your turn to walk through the rubber curtain, you enter a narrow hallway encase in darkness - save for the glow in the dark tape on the floor. You have to pass through another curtain made of rubber before you finally enter the glass encased tunnel that barricades the both of you from the water that rests above you. It’s dimly lit just like the rest of the building, but the most striking difference isn’t the atmosphere.

It’s the various schools and pairs of fish that swim carelessly around the glass.

Namjoon is in awe just watching the vibrantly colored fish go over him, seeing all kinds of fish of different shapes and sizes only mere inches from his face. He reaches his hand for the glass and pulls back upon feeling it’s cool touch, not expecting it to be so cool.

“How is this possible…?” He asks, his tanned skin lit by the soft blue hues that shine through the glass.

You shrug, “I’m not really sure how they do it myself, but it’s amazing, right?”

Namjoon turns to you, a look of pure wonder and amazement painted on his face, “It’s gorgeous.”

---

It took you almost an hour just to pull him away from the tunnels, but you managed to drag him past the seahorses, the sharks, and the dolphins. Each creature was just as fascinating for him as the other, and every laugh and smile he made had your stomach doing flips. He makes it so hard to only see him as a friend when he’s just so incredibly adorable every time he sees something new.

Now, as you exit the small projector room playing the same squid documentary over and over again, you lead him to the interactive exhibit. Just from outside the exhibit’s entrance you can see the dozens of tanks that stand in the room with an employee at each one. Only a few families and couples are in the room, making it the perfect environment for Namjoon to explore something new. 

“What’s in here?” Namjoon asks as you approach the new room. 

“In here are the exhibits you can touch and interact with. Do you want to see?” You ask. 

He nods and takes the first step himself, deciding to take the lead as a way to show you he’ll be fine. You follow him into the chaos, making your way over to a box about as tall as your knee where Namjoon stands peering over the side. Inside the box looks to be a mountain of sand with rocks and grass at the bottom and various logs and sticks piled up to be climbed on by whatever creatures call the box their home.

You stop by his side and he turns to you, “Can we start here?” He asks.

“Of course!” You nod, gesturing for him to look at what else is inside.

It takes a minute for the tanks contents to register with you, and then you see the movement in the sand. Little bubbles that move before a hole - much like a dozen others that decorate the sand - is formed that reveals the small, white and yellow crabs.

Upon seeing the tiny creature poke it’s head out, Namjoon’s eyes immediately light up like a child receiving a gift. He reaches his hands out to touch the crab in front of him, but he quickly pulls them back to himself. Turning to you he ask, “Am I allowed to touch them?”

“You don’t need to ask me, Namjoon. This is a touch tank, so you can touch anything in each of these tanks.” You explain.

Just like that, the childlike wonder of the King is back and he’s reaching down to hold the small crab in the palm of his hand. The sight is so endearing. To see him hold the life in the palm of his hand with the utmost care and adoration sends your heart soaring. It makes you wonder if you can really keep a line between being his friend and wanting more.

*

*

*

It’s Saturday, the day after your aquarium escapade. You’d had so much fun just being able to watch Namjoon enjoy something he’d never seen before, and he practically begged you to buy him a book about sea life from the gift shop before you left - a sight you didn’t think you’d see from the King.

He spent his whole night in between trying different foods just reading through all the discoveries humans had made since his time, and at one point he even tried to use your computer to do his own research. His thirst for knowledge of his new surroundings seemed unquenchable, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to learn anything else in hopes that you’ll be able to watch his constant excitement for something new.

Now, as you both sit in another cafe enjoying your lunch, Namjoon seems to have come down from his information kick. He sits across from you eating his sandwich in a content silence as he people-watches from his chair.

You focus on finishing your own sandwich, enjoying the sustenance as you imagine how your trip to the shopping district will go. You can’t help but imagine Namjoon trying some of the newer fashion trends, or see how good he’ll look in a hat. Or maybe he’ll hate shopping and you can take him to experience karaoke for the first time. He won’t know the songs, but it might still be fun.

“-(Y/n)!” Namjoon says harshly, breaking you out of your trance. You turn to him, a piece of bread poking out of your mouth. Namjoon stifles a chuckle and it takes you a moment to realize why he’s laughing at you. 

Quickly you cover your mouth as you finish chewing, your eyes trained on your drink rather than your companion. Once it’s all gone, you turn back to the man in front of you, him sitting with his elbows rested on the table and his face resting on his hands as he watches you. You take a quick sip of your drink before you decide to acknowledge him, “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “I was just wondering about something.” 

“Like what?” You ask.

“You.”

“Me?” You look to him for reassurance that you heard him correctly and he nods. “Why would you want to know about me?”

“Well, you know a lot about me, and most of that is thanks to your technologies of this time period, but-...” He hesitates, playing with his thumbs, “You don’t talk about yourself.”

“There really isn’t much to say. I’ve had a fairly normal life, I’ve had regular experiences, I have regular friends…” When you think about your life compared to what his must have been like, you can’t help but feel insecure about yours. He’s lived a far more fulfilling life than you, and it’s not easy to expose just how dull yours is. “I just don’t think there’s much of my life that would compare to yours.”

“And why is that?”

You spare him a glance, totally unamused by his obliviousness - playful or not, “I don’t know if you noticed, but my apartment is the size of your stables.”

He shrugs, “So what? Your life is so much different from mine! It’s absolutely fascinating to me.” You can only guess what he would find so fascinating about your life when he compares it to yours, but the way he looks at you makes you want to lay it all out on the table for him, “Can’t I know something?”

So you indulge him, telling him stories of your childhood as best as you can remember. The time that your Dad was helping you bake cookies and you set the oven on fire, the day that the family dog got out and sent the neighbor flying, that one time your brother got drunk with his friends an you had to sneak him into the house without your parents knowing - something they still don’t know about. Any weird, funny memory that you could recall, you shared with him, and each one made him laugh and smile and it only encouraged you to share more.

“Wait wait wait-” He says, stopping you in the middle of your story and his own laughter, “So he really said that?”

“Yeah! I swear I thought our professor was going to end him!” You say, recalling the memory of your college friend who told the professor if his manhood wasn’t the size of a pea then maybe he’d be a much happier man.

“Brilliant!” He hits the table with the palm of his hand, “My friends that I had when I lived weren’t as quick witted as yours.”

“No?” You probe.

“They used their swords instead of words,” he explains. He contemplates for a moment before he continues, “Though, their swords did get them far for my time.”

“I can imagine.” You laugh, taking another sip of your almost empty drink.

“Have you felt love before?” Namjoon asks, changing the topic just like that.

“Love?” You choke, your hand pressing against your mouth to stop anymore of your drink from spilling onto your shirt.

“Yeah. Have you had any love interests?” He inquires, turning his full attention back to you.

“Once. When I was in middle school.” You shrug, feeling the intense heat of his state, “It only lasted for a few years, nothing too long.” You hadn’t thought about that relationship for a while. You really hadn’t thought about anyone at all except for him, “He just wasn’t the right one.”

His eyes practically sparkle when you mention your past love not being the one. He smiles, “You believe in finding the right one?”

“I believe in finding someone that blends well with you.” You explain carefully, knowing exactly where he’s going with this.

“But no soulmates?” He asks. 

You can tell he’s saying it in more of a joking way to mask the truth behind his actions. You know he wants you to believe he’s your soulmate and you’re meant to be together, but you just can’t go through with it yet.

You clear your throat and stand up, “We should get going. The movie will start without us if we don’t.”

“Right.” He agrees, standing up after you.

Though, you know neither of you are really finished with the conversation.

It’s much later in your apartment that you think about the conversation again. You’re working on some of your online work while Namjoon watches some movies much like the one you had shown him. It never occurred to you that he might enjoy superhero movies all that much, but seeing him cheer on Spiderman through the screen like the actor could hear him puts a smile on your face. 

The other patrons at the theater did not enjoy his enthusiasm as much as you.

Then again, they didn’t know him. They didn’t get to see his dimples pop out when he saw Thor appear on screen. They didn’t get to see him parade around your apartment in the Ryan pajamas you bought him with his fourth bowl of popcorn. They didn’t get to hear him recall stories of what it was really like to live in a time where none of this existed. They didn’t get to appreciate him.

But at the same time you realize, you haven’t appreciated him either. 

It’s been almost a month since he first woke and claimed you to be his soulmate. In that time, you’ve done your best to understand him and let him roam, but you’ve only been pushing him away. Keeping him at arm's length in hopes of not catching feelings.

Yet...you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to give into the temptation of accepting your role as his soulmate.

—-

“We don’t need to get on the bus today?” Namjoon asks, the last of his breakfast in his mouth.

You shake your head, “Not today. I have something planned that I think you’re going to really enjoy.”

“Is it more food?” You turn to him with a look that is usually saved for Jimin or Taehyung and he just shrugs, “What?”

You sigh, “We can get food there, but we’re not going there for the food. You’ll see.”

You loop your arm through his and continue on down the large sidewalk, enjoying the fresh morning air as you walk your regular path. It’s when Namjoon sees the flower beds that he realizes where you’re taking him and he stops.

“You’re bringing me back to the museum?” He asks, a look of disbelief written across his features.

Sensing why he’s upset you’re quick to shake your head to dissuade the thought, “Not just yet! We still have tonight and tomorrow before you need to go back. I just want to show you what you miss during the day.” Letting go of his arm and instead your hand to him, you smile in hopes it will make him feel more comfortable, “Follow me?”

You lead him up the large staircase, pausing at the top to show him the view and take a few pictures before you go inside. A line like there had been at the aquarium is off just to the side, but you drag Namjoon in the opposite direction.

“Don’t we need to follow them?” He asks

“Employee perk.” You vaguely explain, more interested in getting him into the museum and letting him meet your friends, “Come over this way! I want to talk to someone real quick.”

Jin catches sight of you before you get the chance to even call out to him. He waves to his departing guests and turns to wave to you, “(Y/n)! I thought you had the day off, what are you doing here?”

“I’m showing my friend around the museum, he’s never been here before,” You explain, not missing the way Jin looks Namjoon up and down in his light jeans, black turtleneck, and brown jacket you’d picked up for him. Thankfully, he seems to approve of Namjoon and the clothes you’d picked for him, “Jin, this is Kim Namjoon. Namjoon, this is Kim Seokjin.”

Namjoon gives a curt bow, “Very cool to meet you.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Jin chuckles. He doesn't seem to mind Namjoon’s vernacular as he continues to tease him, “So, Kim Namjoon? Any relation to the King in our 3rd floor exhibit?”

“No, my mother was a history stan.” The king explains.

You share a look with Jin that screams “don’t you dare say anything” and he nods with a fake smile, “How fascinating.” 

“Well-!” Deciding that now is as good a time as any to get him out of there, you squeeze Namjoon's hand with one and wave to Jin with the other, “We should let you get back to work, but it was nice seeing you Jin.”

“You too!” Jin waves back with his familiar, bright smile. Though it fades into a mischievous one just as fast, “Don’t cause too much trouble with your boyfriend~”

You don’t comment on his words, knowing that Namjoon probably wouldn’t get the insinuation behind his words anyway. You just drag him along to the stairs to bring him to the first exhibit you’ll be visiting.

When Namjoon sees the familiar entrance cone into focus, he gasps in excitement, “This is the European exhibit! I’ve been waiting to go through here.”

“Well, today is your lucky day.” You say. You pull him into the exhibit's entrance and notice the empty kiosk to the right of traffic, “C’mon there’s a kiosk over here.”

You go to grab headphones for yourself, but Namjoon is faster than you, “Here-” He takes them out of your hand and places them over your ears for you, a tender smile on his dimpled face as he repeats the action you’d done for him the other night. “There you go.”

He puts his own headphones on and presses play on the video, but you don’t listen. You don’t let the words process. All you can think about is the soft smile that he shared with you and the gentle touch of his hands against your head.

---

You can’t deny that the museum is much more appealing during the day. With all the patrons that walk around enjoying the exhibits, the quiet chatter is low and welcomed to your ears. More importantly, the ability to watch Namjoon enjoy the presence of humans is a gift itself. He’s really come out of his shell over the past few days. He’s enjoyed getting to know people again, and being able to practice his use of modern slang - no matter how horrendous it is. 

Only part of you regrets taking him around to meet Jeongguk. You knew Namjoon wanted to meet him, but it was only for him to school the younger man in a history lesson. Not a hard feat, but nonetheless. It was still a very interesting encounter. 

“And this is really what they used?” He asks, staring at the chair contraption for birthing behind the glass. It was old and rusted - not much to really look at - but he found it interesting anyways. “Strange.”

From another part of the room, you hear a familiar voice speak up, “-and over here you’ll all see a replica of a French Gillotine from France!”

You weren't going to pay him any mind until you noticed Namjoon tense up beside you, “Namjoon?”

“It’s him.” He mutters ominously.

“Jeongguk?” You ask.

“Isn’t it pronounced Guillotine?” You hear someone ask, only for the young guide to laugh, “No, that doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Yes.” Namjoon assures you.

When you turn to spot the boy in the crowd, you see him only a few feet away with his group around him, “Why don’t you all take a moment to look around at the artifacts of the room and I’ll be over here to answer any questions.”

You are more than aware of how Namjoon feels about Jeongguk, even if he is just a kid trying to get through college. With him being right there, it would be impossible to really keep the determined King away, especially with that look in his eyes.

“Do you want to meet him?” You ask, hesitant to really introduce the two to each other.

“Please.” He pushes up the sleeves of his jacket and you try your best to ignore the action, “I’d like to teach this kid a thing or two.”

The brunette walks away from you before you can say anything else and all you can do is follow after him and redirect the conversation. 

“Jeongguk!” You call out, moving in front of Namjoon before he can say anything, “I want to introduce you to my friend Namjoon.”

“Namjoon? Like the mummy?!” He asks immediately, getting excited at the mention of his favorite dead guy, “Bro! That’s a crazy coincidence! He could be your great-great-really great-granddaddy!”

“Please don’t call him that.” You beg.

Namjoon clears his throat, clearly not prepared to deal with Jeon Jeongguk at all, “Yes, well, there is no relation. I am, however, what you would call a pro when it comes to the king.”

“Really?!” The boy only seems to get more and more excited with every word Namjoon speaks to life, “You know, I actually have a lot of questions if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Uh…” The king looks to you and you shake your head, unwilling to help him, “Sure thing?”

“Okay so is it true that when he was a boy he would run around the castle dragging hanbok behind him?! A few historians found in journals left in his tomb that that was something he would do. Do you believe them?!”

A hot blush creeps onto Namjoon’s face, “Uh…Well, you see-”

Watching Namjoon try to explain why he may - or may not have done - without giving Jeongguk too much information was an experience itself, but it paid off. You’d have never thought Namjoon would actually enjoy the conversation, but that was just a part of Jeongguk’s charm. Though, you could have done without Namjoon trying to use ‘lit’ and ‘yeet’ correctly in a sentence against the kid that uses the words every chance he gets. 

Thankfully, the observatory is Jeongguk-free, and you’re more than happy to take Namjoon to see the stars. You let him choose the spot, a space far enough from a group of kids so that the two of you can talk quietly to the other during the showing.

“So what is this again?” He asks, as you both settle into your seats.

“It’s a light show that shows you the stars and their constellations.” You explain, “They even show you planets hundreds and thousands of miles away from ours.”

“Your technology never ceases to amaze me.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great when it needs to be.” You agree. The lights begin to dim and you playfully hit Namjoon’s arm out of excitement, “Oh! It’s starting.”

At the center of the room, the projector comes to life, projecting thousands of dots onto the ceiling. Each one shines and glistens differently, creating an illusion of shimmering like real stars in a night sky. The introduction begins to play, welcoming everyone to the observatory and inviting them to spend the next few minutes enjoying the view of the night sky before the lesson begins.

With this being one of your many trips to the museum’s observatory, you turn to Namjoon to see his reaction instead. Just like the other places you’ve taken him to, he’s very invested into what’s going on in front of him. His eyes glisten in the artificial starlight, and he looks so entranced by the holograms that decorate the ceiling. 

A part of you is screaming at yourself to talk to him. To let him know everything about you. But another part just wants you to keep quiet and stop yourself from getting attached. 

But how can you not want to share everything with him?

You decide for yourself, leaning on the arm rest to get closer to him so you wouldn’t disturb anyone else, “You know, when I was younger-“ He turns to you, “- and I lived in the country, I’d spend every night by my window just to look at the stars.”

“Really?” He asks.

“Mhm! I don’t why, but I’ve just always been drawn to the stars and the mysteries of space.” You admit. You look to the hidden constellations above you and let out a pleasant sigh, “Seeing them just makes me feel at home, you know?”

“I think I do.” He nods, “Thank you for telling me.”

Together you enjoy the calm and quiet of the display, happily listening to the narrator while you sit so close together. No one to bother you, no one to interrupt a peaceful moment. It’s something you’re more than happy to share with Namjoon, feeling much more comfortable than you have before.

Then again, happiness and calm can only last so long when Park Jimin runs the museum gift shop. And right now, y could do without him trying to sell Namjoon every item that catches his eyes though.

“This one is a real keeper! I’m telling you, these pens write like they were made for a god. They’re insane!” Jimin insists, showing Namjoon on a scratch piece of paper just how good they really are.

“Really? And they each have these cool designs?” Unbeknownst to Jimin, Namjoon really doesn’t know the difference between a good or bad pen. He could tell him it had a cap instead of a button and he would be in awe.

Jimin nods, “All of them.”

“Perfect.”

“Jimin!” You interrupt. You gain the attention of both of them and motion for Jimin to come to you, “Come here.” He leaves Namjoon to look on his own and jogs over with a mischievous smile, knowing that you’re frown is not good, “What are you doing?”

“My job.” He says.

You cross your arms, “I brought him here to meet you, not for you to sway him with your manly charms.”

Jimin shrugs, completely unbothered, “It’s not my fault if he falls victim to my tactics~” 

“Oh you are a minx!” You huff, “I don’t see how Yoongi puts up with you.”

“He just makes my schedule and signs my checks. After that, I don’t see him at all.” Jimin explains, bragging more than anything as he begins to clean his counter.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see why.” You mumble. You push your angry thoughts about him away to change the topic so something else. Or more specifically; someone else, “Hey is Tehyung not here? Where is he?”

“He’s sick today,” He tells you, “He called me this morning and asked if I’d keep an eye on his exhibits.”

“And?” 

“And what?”

“Have you?” You pry.

“I love Taehyung. He’s my best friend!” Jimin assures you. He picks up his cleaning towel and throws it in the drawer by his register, replacing it with his phone, “But there’s no way in Hell that I will be spending my free time watching over exhibits that A. Have their own security and B. Don’t move.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I wouldn’t either and it’s my job to watch them.”

“I’d like to get this.” Namjoon says, breaking up the conversation. In his hands he holds a closed box, a box that Jimin showed you the other week.

The box with your necklace.

“Are you sure?” You ask, knowing that the price tag on it was a hefty one.

“Yeah.” He sets the box on the counter and then pulls a handful of cash out of his pocket, thoroughly surprising you.

“Wait, where’d you get this?” You ask.

“There was a nice guy that came in while you guys were talking.” He explains, “He asked who I was buying a gift for and gave me the money when I told him it was for you.”

“Did you get his name or see where he went? I can’t just let him pay that much.” You peer around him to see if the man was still nearby but Namjoon places a hand on your arm.

“He didn’t say. All he said was that I should put it to good use, so I am.” The king explains. He looks into your eyes with a pleading gaze, “Please.”

You’re powerless against his gaze and you nod to Jimin who is more than happy to ring up the over priced package, “One soulmate necklace for the handsome gentleman and his lovely lady.”

Namjoon doesn’t let you carry the bag, he doesn’t even let you touch it until you make it back to your apartment with dinner - that he also insisted on carrying. It’s long after the two of you have enjoyed your dinner that he finally lets you open the bag.

“Are you sure, your majesty?” You tease, earning yourself an unamused frown.

“Yes I’m sure.” He says, handing the bag over for you to take, “Open it.”

You do as he says, opening the bag and pulling out the box carrying the replica of your very own necklace. Lifting the lock and opening the lid, you’re met with the familiar shine of grey moonstones and pink gems held tight by a gold strand. Though, unlike the necklace sitting behind glass, this one has a hidden clasp that is better suited for modern tastes.

You take the shining jewels out of the box and hold it up for the both of you to admire, “It really is beautiful.”

“It’s very convincing.” Namjoon agrees. He takes the necklace from your hands  and gestures to yourself, “May I?”

You're confused until you realize he wants to help you put it on, “Yeah-!” You turn your back towards him so he can place the necklace on you, “Yeah, sure.” 

He’s gentle as he moves his arms around you, letting the jewelry lay flat against your collar before he shuts the clasp. When he taps your shoulder and you turn back around, he looks completely blown away, “Wow…”

“It looks good?” You ask.

He nods, “Come and see for yourself.” He stands up and gestures for you to go look in the mirror with him. 

“Oh…” Standing in front of the mirror actually wearing the necklace, you really see the appeal. How it glistens in the light and the way it lays perfectly against your neck, you’re left speechless. “Wow indeed.”

Both of you stand there in front of the mirror, admiring the way the necklace looks. You had no idea a piece of jewelry could look so right, and now you were glad that if anyone gets to see it on you it’s Namjoon.

“I go back tomorrow? Yes?” He asks, his face head peering over your shoulder in the mirror.

You nod, “You do.”

“Could I-...” He hesitates, “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Any rational side of you would have said no, but you just can’t stop yourself from running with the moment. You turn around so you can look at him face-to-face, “Sure. I’d like that.”

You grab your phone off the table and let him choose a song, knowing he’s quickly made himself his own playlist since being introduced to the 21st century. When you hear the soft instrumental ring through your speakers, you’re not surprised to hear it’s an older western song from the one Avengers movie. He’d fallen in love with it the other day and had been playing the scene over and over again.

“My lady?” He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to accept his offer.

You accept his hand, placing your own in his, “Your majesty.”

He pulls you towards him, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back while you rest your freehand on his shoulder. With small steps you sway together to the beat, letting the smooth sound of the trumpet lull you. Neither of you speak, but the silence isn’t unwelcome. 

Eventually, Namjoon begins to hum. He begins to embrace the beat a bit more, swaying you a bit harder - though not in a rough way - and engaging you more into the song. You giggle as he pulls you against his chest and spins in circles, loudly imitating the voice of the trumpet. His obnoxious noises do little to sway the fun you have, especially when he pulls you away to spin only you instead.

“Namjoon!” You laugh, your hand grabbing his bicep to catch yourself.

“Dada da~! What?” He asks, briefly pausing his imitation to answer you, still insistent on swaying you.

“I thought you wanted to dance?” You remind him through stifled giggling.

“La la-!” He pauses, “I thought this was dancing. La la LA~”

You shake your head and pull your hand away from his, confusing him until you throw both arms around his neck with your head resting on his shoulder. You slow down his excited sways for soft, gentle ones.

“It is, but I like this better.” You mumble, just enough for him to hear you without hearing the embarrassment laced in.

This time Namjoon smiles, resting both hands at the small of your back and pulling you closer, “I think I do too.”

And so, the two of you continue to sway for the rest of the song and however many times it plays after. You take advantage of the moment you have. This moment in his arms. Even if it’s wrong, you allow it to feel right just for tonight. 

“(Y/n)...?” Namjoon whispers.

You pull away, still in his arms but enough for him to see you, “Yeah?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you. His brown eyes staring into yours. It’s so intense it feels like he’s looking for something, like your eyes are a key to finding a hidden treasure. But you don’t ask him what he wants to say, instead you stare back. With eyes locked, he feels like a magnet just pulling you closer and closer until you finally realize that the two of you have inched too close for comfort. Just a little closer and you could feel his breath, touch his cheek…

kiss him

Without a second thought you pull yourself completely away, faking a cough so as not to hurt his feelings.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a reassuring hand coming to lay against your back and it’s fake convulsions.

You nod vigorously, pulling your body away from his touch and moving towards the kitchen, “I’m fine!” You assure him, “I just need some water.”

“Oh.” He says, awkwardly watching you from the living room. He shifts his weight between each foot as you make yourself a drink, “Did you want to continue?”

“Uh, no! I shouldn’t.” You say without thinking. You curse at yourself before you slowly set your cup on the counter and turn around to explain yourself, “I should really get cleaned up and ready for bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

He nods, “Right...I’ll get changed then.” He grabs the folded Ryan pajamas off of your coffee table and gives you an awkward, tight lipped smile, “Goodnight.”

“Yeah. Goodnight…” You say back, only the words feel bitter on your tongue. 

You don’t want to say goodnight.

And you definitely don’t want to take him back.

*

*

*

Sneaking Namjoon back into the museum made your return to the night shift that much worse. It wasn’t that having Namjoon back in the museum wasn’t fine with you - you had already come to terms with that. But it was the constant talk of when he could go back that made it unbearable. You weren’t against the idea at all, but your next break would most likely be when it would be impossible to sneak him out.

It was already a mystery to you that Hoseok didn’t have any strange encounters with exhibits coming to life at all. As soon as the sun was down and you made your way back to Namjoon, you could hear their chatter from the other room as well as more chatter from more exhibits. It’s like over the weekend half of the museum just woke up. It didn’t bother you as much as it had the first night, but it’s still a new concept to grasp.

Even throughout the night you only became more and more tired. At one point, you told Namjoon you’d be in the office resting instead of walking around because you just didn’t have the energy. He understood, of course, but it took you a minute to explain that you just needed to rest alone for the night.

You were more than happy to go home after the first night back. You needed sleep and you needed it as soon as you could get it. You even rushed through your morning duties just to get your morning shift in and get yourself out.

It’s much later, when you’re feeling refreshed and ready for a new day that you find yourself walking into work again with a much better attitude. Walking through the front doors of the museum just sends a wave a peace over you and you embrace it wholeheartedly.

“(Y/n)!” You turn your attention to the sound of the voice, seeing Jin jog over from the information desk. You smile at him, but it disappears when you see how worried he looks.

“Are you okay?” You ask, concerned for your friend.

He stops in front of you and grabs your wrist, “You need to see this.” He pulls you after him towards his desk and pushes you into the chair. He clicks away from the Museum’s website to what looks to be security footage of the front stairs. He points at the screen, his finger covering the statue of three giraffe’s that stand at the right of the screen, “Watch closely.”

You do as he asks, watching the video for a few seconds before it looks like the camera glitches and the head moves. Immediately you register what’s happened, though you’re unsure if Jin has come to the same conclusion. You turn to your friend who looks right back at you and feign confusion, “Did the giraffe head move?”

“No! Why would the head move?” He lets out an exasperated sigh and points at the spot of the ‘glitch’ on the screen, “The camera! Someone moved the camera.”

You shake your head and play along, “The only way to move the outside cameras is with a ladder, and I would have seen it on the surveillance system.”

“I know, that’s what has everyone on edge.” He says, “Well, that and the gift shop.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “The gift shop?”

“Jimin came in this morning and it was ransacked!” He tells you.

“What?!” It wasn’t possible that anyone could get into the gift shop, not even you have a key for the gift shop, “There is absolutely no way anyone got into the museum, let alone the gift shop.”

“I know that and so do Hobi and Yoongi.” He assures you, “They’ve been looking at security footage all day trying to figure it out, but there’s nothing. They don’t know how it happened and Jimin insists that he would have never left it that messy.”

“We’re going to have to upgrade security.” You sigh. It’s not like you haven’t been saying that for weeks, but now you really need it if someone is planning to get into the museum, “If things are happening that we can’t explain, then we’re going to need more eyes.”

Seokjin nods, “That’s what they were saying.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “I can’t believe I let this happen on my watch.”

“Hey, you didn’t do this. We know that. Yoongi actually thinks it’s a ghost.” He laughs.

“What?” You ask.

“Yeah! But I’m not all that surprised.” He shrugs. His indifference, however, does nothing to help you, and he seems to take notice of this as well. The brunette places a hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry too much, okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m sure this will all sort itself out.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.” You say, not entirely convinced anything will get solved. You stand from his desk and readjust your things on your shoulder, “’ll see you later.”

You head for your locker first, hearing the news from Jeongguk and Taeyong again before you meet Hoseok and Yoongi in the security room to hear it for a third time. They tell you exactly what Jin had told you, explaining their theories - even the superstitious one that isn’t that far off - and express to you how they don’t blame you for what’s happened. It’s a lot to take in all at once, especially when you have a really good idea of what’s going on. 

Eventually they let you go to get on with your duties, letting you know that they’ll let you know what they decide on. You promise them to keep a sharp eye out, but you know there’s only so much you can do against whatever magic is going on in the museum. 

Namjoon only mentioned that the necklace was a gift and made for his soulmate to bring him back to life so they could spend the rest of their lives together. Not once did he mention he’d be bringing everything else to life too! Then again, he was just as confused as you that first night the other exhibit came to life. If he didn’t know, then you doubt anyone would be able to tell you anything about what’s going on.

All expect for one.

It took you eight tries of running around the museum to find the blonde curator before you catch him fixing his belongings before he leaves through the official employee entrance, “Taehyung!”

He jumps, but smiles bright when he sees it’s you, “Hey, (Y/n), did y-”

You don’t give him the luxury to finish his sentence, however. As soon as you get close enough, you grab his arms to keep him in front of you, “What else do you know about the necklace?!”

“What?” He asks, his attention more focused on your grip than the actual question.

You sigh, “What else can you tell me about it? Is there anything you haven’t told me? Anything at all?!”

He shakes his head, “No! I told you everything!”

“Are you sure?!” You prod, only getting a nod in return. You groan and think for a moment, not letting up on your grip as you think of anything else that could help you, “What was the necklace supposed to do?”

You watch as he tries to recall anything that he hadn’t mentioned before or may have when you were zoned out. His face brightens when he gets something, “The necklace was supposed to bring light and happiness to him and his people! She was to be his light and bring the people to life!”

“Bring them to life…” You repeat.

He nods, “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“It’s bringing them to life.” You say, sparing no thought to Taehyung as you come to the realization.

“What’s bringing what to life?” Taehyung asks.

“Nothing!” You let go of his arms and brush off his shirt sleeves, “So if the necklace wasn’t with them?”

He shrugs, “I would assume it wouldn't matter. It's love, right? If anything, the special curse on the necklace would need to go away first.”

It’s then that you realize what he’s saying. If you want to get rid of the curse, then you and Namjoon have to destroy the necklace. But if you destroy the necklace, then would that destroy him too?

You open the employee door for Taehyung and usher him out, “I need to go.” 

You try to close the door on him but he stops you, “Are you making questionable choices? What’s wrong?” He’s worried and you know he is, but now isn’t the time to have people worrying about you.

You shake your head and smile, “Nothing at all, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“(Y/n)-!”

You don’t waste any time closing the door in Taehyung’s face and locking it before he can ask anymore questions. You race to lock every door, double checking doors that aren’t yours just to be sure there’s no chance of any exhibit getting out and causing even more of a mess. You can’t let another exhibit make a mess that you don’t even notice! You didn’t even have access to leave the gift shop open for Namjoon to enjoy. It was completely off limits, yet it was still affected by the power of the necklace like everything else.

When you make it to Namjoon’s exhibit, he’s already waiting for you. Unlike every other night, his smile is replaced by confusion.

“Is everything okay? Why am I locked in?” He asks.

Seeing the confusion on his face only makes what you have to say even worse, “We need to get rid of the necklace.”

Namjoon confusion morphs into anger and his hands grip the gate tighter, “What? No!”

“Namjoon, things are getting out of hand-” You try to explain, but the king wants nothing to do with it.

“I refuse.”

You groan in annoyance, “Can you think about the consequences here? People could get hurt if all the artifacts finally come to life!”

“I’ve thought about nothing but other people for over 1,000 years! I’m tired of taking care of others!” He says, removing one hand to hit the gate with it.

You flinch, but you don’t falter, “Namjoon…”

He sighs, “All I’ve done with my life is serve my people. That’s it. I’ve never had one day to worry about myself until you touched that necklace and brought my soul back to life.” He looks so defeated and heartbroken as he lays his feelings out on the table. You want to hug him and tell him that nothing might happen to him, but you know that’s not what he wants to hear, “I don’t want to lose that yet.” 

You place a gentle hand on the gate where his fingers slip through the bars, resting yours over his, “Things are starting to get out of hand Namjoon. Every night something changes. A new exhibit wakes up and starts causing chaos. The statues outside have been moving too! How long until it all comes to life and stays alive?”

He tries to come up with some kind of explanation, but he just shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

“It’s going to hurt so many people, including us.” You say, hoping if you use yourself as an example he may see reason. But his solemn look is replaced with a dedicated one instead.

“I will protect you. That is my duty as your king and your lover.” He assures you, “The necklace remains the same. End of discussion.”

He removes his hands from the bars and backs away to try and leave the conversation there, but you aren’t willing to let him win, “You can’t tell me you don’t see the problems around us!”

“And you can’t tell me that you honestly don’t feel anything for me!” He cries out, “These past weeks I know you’ve warmed up to me! You can’t call what’s happened between us nothing!”

You know he’s right, but you can’t afford to let him win at a moment like this. Especially when - if you admit your feelings - you have to then admit that you’re willing to give him up as well. “Can’t I?”

“It is my right as a king to be happy.” He says, redefining his position as king with you. He’s set his foot down and he’s making it as obvious as he can.“You won’t get rid of me without me agreeing. Get used to it.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Namjoon!” You scold. 

“I’ll stay in my exhibit tonight.” He says curtly, turning and walking away from you.

“Namjoon!” You yell, hoping he’ll come back. 

But he doesn’t.

He continues past the display cases that divide the room and hides on the other side where you won’t be able to see him. He doesn’t respond, and he doesn’t come back out. The only thing you can do is unlock his exhibit and give him time to think before you come back to see him.

“I’m sorry that we see things differently right now.” You announce to the exhibit, wanting to make sure he at least knows where you stand with him, “I’ll leave your exhibit open for when you get hungry. I’ll leave your food on the information desk on the first floor.” 

No response.

“I really am sorry, Namjoon.” You say, lingering for just a moment longer than you should before turning your back on the exhibit and walking away.

---

Sitting in the security office has always felt boring, but tonight it feels even more so. Knowing that Namjoon is upset with you and not being able to do anything about it but give him space feels like waiting for test results you know won’t come back for a month. No amount of homework or idle keyboard clicking could change that for you, and it just made your night even more unbearable. 

Maybe Namjoon is right.

There’s no way to know that everything that comes to life won’t be friendly or have the ability to calm down. For all you know, they could all come to life and just do their own thing.

But then again, there’s no guarantee that whatever comes to life won’t behave like it does in everyday life. You’ve already seen how the paintings interact amongst themselves and with each other, and there are a few that you’re glad aren’t statues. 

“Ugh!” You groan, slamming the cover of your textbook closed. There’s just too much to think about, and the atmosphere of the security office is too stale for you to keep your thoughts straight. 

You turn your chair away from the desk and stand up, stretching a little before you pick up your flashlight and leave the room. You make your way down the empty hall leading to the main entrance, hearing the soft chatter of exhibits as you go. It’s always normal to hear the sounds echo throughout the museum. You’re used to hearing the wails of children that don’t want to leave the children’s exhibit and the pleas or scolding of their parents. 

You’d rather hear the children over the ominous noises that leave the stairwells.

At the information desk, you see a figure standing where you had left the food. Tall and swaying side to side awkwardly, you can’t help but chuckle at Namjoon as he knocks the pamphlet stand to the floor. He bends to pick it up, and as you get closer you can’t help but notice the clothes he’s wearing. A dark purple hanbok with a hint of blue and white around the collar.

That’s not what you remember him wearing.

“Namjoon?” You call out, closing in on the figure. When he turns to you though, who you assumed to be Namjoon is not even close. Who you thought was your dead king come to life is really a wax figure of a Silla Dynasty soldier you’d seen from an exhibit on this floor on the other side of the building.

“Uh...hi there.” You greet, awkwardly waving to the man inspecting what he’d knocked over.

The man in question doesn’t humor you though, instead he pulls his weapon and points it in your direction, “State your business.”

Your heart races at his demand and you instinctively clutch your flashlight tighter. With a level voice, you do your best to feign confidence, “I’m the night guard. I protect this building.”

“You?” He scoffs. He eyes you up and down before shaking his head, “A woman. How distasteful.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” You mumble, slightly annoyed at the return of misogyny. You take a breath to steady yourself and try again, “If you give me a moment, I can explain where you are.”

“I know where I am!” He yells, scaring you. You see his grip on his sword tighten and you can’t stop yourself from shifting your weight, “You’ve taken my Queen for a chance to replace her, and that’s a sin I cannot ignore!”

“What?” You think to the woman who sits behind the shatter-proof glass in his exhibit, realizing she must be who he’s talking about. You shake your head, “You have it all wrong! She’s not in any danger! She’s no prisoner!”

Now that you think about it, you’re not exactly sure how he got out of his exhibit. You locked it yourself. You know for a fact he shouldn’t be out and about. Yet here he stands in front of you, sword drawn and ready to strike you.

“Oh really? Then why have you trapped her in an unbreakable cage, wench?” He spits. He must’ve already tried to break her out himself, “I will not let a witch like you harm my Queen and not suffer the consequences.”

In the blink of an eye, he lunges forward. You barely have enough time to side step his advances, feeling a breeze as he rushes past you. You run behind the desk, grabbing the umbrella Seokjin keeps there in case of emergencies and running through the other side away from your assailant who follows you. You let out the loudest scream you can manage, hoping that Namjoon hears you as you run around the grand staircase in hopes of losing the man behind you.

You zig-zag in between pillars, running straight and grabbing one to help you make a quick u-turn to throw him off his guard. But no matter what you do, he stays on you. You round the staircase again and hide behind a pillar this time instead, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath.

When you don’t hear his footsteps, you take a hesitant peek behind the marble. Your eyes turn to saucers when they see him right in front of you with his sword drawn back. You turn quick, hearing his blade strike the pillar before he cries out, “Do not run from me!”

“Namjoon!” You shriek, once again hoping the king can hear you from where he is upstairs. You make a beeline down the hall away from the staircase, heading for the children’s exhibit’s in hopes to cut him off, “Help me! Please!”

The entire way down the hall the man stays hot on your trail, cursing at you and demanding you to listen to him. You pass the exhibits, hoping that if his was open one of these would be too. But as if fate is working against you, none look to be open for you. It’s not until you reach a dead end that you realize your mistake.

“This is your final resting place,” He declares, “Take your last breaths with pride.”

“No.” You shake your head, determined to get away from him. You press the button on your flashlight and point it in his eyes, blinding him enough to run past him again. However, you’re unprepared for the beads that litter the floor, sending you careening to the floor and skidding across the shiny tile.

“You cannot fool me, witch!” You hear him laugh from behind you. You use your elbows to push yourself up and grab your flashlight or the umbrella, but both objects are too far away from you. There’s no way you’ll be able to grab one before the man above you strikes. Instead, you turn yourself over to face him, eyeing the Silla Dynasty soldier with a false confidence.

“Your magic tricks are nothing against me, wench. I will be sure to tell my queen as much when I rescue her from your trap.” He divulges, dragging out your imminent death with a monologue. He laughs to himself, “You must think you’re so smart. Too bad your life is mine.”

He raises his sword and you lift your arm, eyes squeezing shut as you prepare for the blow. Only the blow never comes, and instead you hear a clash of plastic rustling against metal.

“Her life belongs to me just as mine does to her. You’ll do well to remember that.” Namjoon growls, his voice much lower than you’ve heard it before. When you open your eyes to see that it’s really him standing above you, you see he’s holding Jin’s umbrella against your attacker's sword, holding it steady to keep it from harming you or him. 

“Namjoon…” You whimper, happy to see him.

Namjoon lifts his leg and kicks the guard back, knocking him to the floor and onto the beads the man had dropped. He turns to you and pulls you to your feet, placing a hand on the back of your head and pulling you in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead, “Run to my exhibit and lock the gate. I’ll be there for you soon.”

“I can’t leave you.” You protest, holding onto his biceps to keep him from pulling away.

Behind Namjoon the man groans as he stands, breaking up the moment the two of you had and pulling you back to the reality at hand. He turns to place his entire body in front of yours and holds his one hand behind him to steer you back, “Now!”

As much as you want to stay and help him, you know you’ll only distract him. There’s nothing you can do to help him any longer, so you do as he tells you and you run. You run as fast as you can and make it to the staircase, running past it to the information desk where the computers lay open and ready to go. You pull up the security feeds and flip through camera after camera until you find the hallway where Namjoon fights the once wax figure with the umbrella. 

It lasts for a few more swings until Namjoon finally backs him into a corner and hits him in the head, knocking the figure unconscious instead of taking him out entirely. Instant relief washes through you as you watch the man fall to the floor, asleep for who knows how long. Just as long as Namjoon is still standing and physically okay, you’re happy for now.

You catch your breath and collect your thoughts as he makes his way back down the hall to you, working on what you’ll say to him in your mind and hoping that whatever you come up with will be good enough.

“(Y/n)?” Namjoon calls from the stairs, surprised to see you at the desk and not upstairs where he’d asked you to go.

You only shake your head, “I know and I’m sorry. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

“It’s fine, I understand,” He assures you, “I actually wanted to say that I-” Namjoon is interrupted by a growl, a low throaty one that comes from the staircase just down the hall, You both turn very slowly towards the sound, and are met with two sharp green eyes of the tiger from the downstairs animal exhibit.

“(Y/n)...” He tries to call out to you, but you shake your head, “Don’t move, Namjoon.”

“I told you I’d protect you.” He reminds you.

You see the way his eyes flicker from the tiger to the opposite end of the hall and you hold a breath, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Run to my exhibit and I’ll meet you there.” He promises before clapping his hands together and shuffling to his side to run towards the exhibit’s the guard had come from. The tiger immediately locks onto him and takes off, Namjoon sprinting down the hall to lead it away, “Go! Now while you still can.”

The tiger passes you, but you can’t bring yourself to run away from Namjoon. You can’t bring yourself to leave him alone again. So you take off after the two as well, following them down the hall into the ancient jewel’s exhibit. The whole room is stocked full, large enough to run around with an exit gate on the other side. It’s one of the few rooms to have two gates, and right now you were more than happy for that.

Namjoon and the tiger haven’t noticed you yet, the two run in circles around each other with Namjoon trying to outrun and outsmart him. You take that opportunity to close the gate behind you and lock it up, leaving only one exit for you to escape from.

“Namjoon!” You yell, grabbing his attention as he runs past another display case.

He lets out an exasperated yell when he sees you, “I told you to go upstairs!”

“I won’t leave you!” You yell back, “Run to the gate and close it behind you!”

“No! Not while you’re in here!” He argues, making another pass around a display case.

“Do it!” You demand. You run further into the room and grab the tiger’s attention, pulling it away from Namjoon so you can enact your escape plan, “Here kitty kitty kitty~!”

The overgrown feline takes notice of you, giving Namjoon a chance to run to the doors and pull the gates together again. You lead it away just as Namjoon had done for you, doing what you can to distract the tiger and put enough space in between the two of you.

When you finally get an opening, you take it. You make a beeline for the gate where Namjoon is and grab your keys, “Open it!”

Namjoon throws the gate open and closes it as soon as you pass him, holding it shut while you fish for the right key. “(Y/n)...anytime now.”

“Hold on-” You breathe, flipping through your keys for the correct one, “I almost have it.”

“It’s going to claw my hands off!” Namjoon yells.

“I got it!” You cry, shoving the key into the lock and turning it before the tiger can pounce on the gate or their hands.

The two try to catch their breaths, but more yelling comes from down the hall. It leaves the two of you with only the option to run as fast as you can back to the main entrance to get to his exhibit and lock yourselves in.

“Hold my hand and don’t let go, okay?” Namjoon tells you, making sure you understand with a nod before he pulls you after him. 

The two of you run again, quickly meeting more Silla soldiers and dodging them like you had their friend. Birds and other animals far more inviting than the tiger run into you both, but you only keep running to the stairs. Namjoon continues to pull you along, even as he takes the stairs two-by-two in hopes of reaching his exhibit before anyone else can apprehend the two of you.

Even as you run, you’re thumbing through your keys to find his. You keep up with every step and hold on tight to his hand, even more so when you feel his key hit your palm. He pulls you along and into his exhibit, the both of you letting the other go so you can shut the gate and lock it behind you. 

Namjoon takes your hand again and pulls you deeper into the room, hiding behind the display cases as the other’s reach his gate, “You were right. We have to get rid of it!”

You shake your head, “Then I’ll lose you!”

“You’ll lose me anyways if we don’t do this!”

“I don’t know if I can any more…” Within hours the two of you have changed mindsets, but now there’s no time to think of a new plan. The only thing you can do is hope for the best outcome now.

Namjoon takes your face in his hands, gently cupping your cheeks as unshed tears well up between the two of you, “(Y/n), I’ve waited so long to have you, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t listen to what you had to say earlier.” 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry for not listening to you! You were right. Just like you always are. I’ve loved spending every minute with you, and I don’t want you to go.” Your voice breaks and you can see it in his eyes that it’s getting to him too.

“This past month that I’ve been able to enjoy with you, has been more than I could have ever asked for.” He admits, placing a kiss against your forehead, “But it’s time to say goodbye.”

“No.” You shake your head, “No you can’t say goodbye.” You wrap your arms around his torso and hold him close, squeezing as tight as you can in hopes it’ll block out the sounds of the angry mob outside, “Please, don’t say goodbye yet.”

“You’ll see me again.” He assures you, gently running his thumb over the back of your head.

“Namjoon, please...” you beg, hoping that if he hears how much you really care for him that he’ll change his mind one more time.

But instead he pulls back so you can see his face and he can see yours. Smiling his cute dimpled smile with glassy eyes as he says, “I love you.”

Before you can change your mind, you find the display case key on your keychain and unlock the glass. No alarm rings, only the sounds of banging on the exhibit’s gate ring in your ears as you pull the necklace from its place. You turn with it towards Namjoon, but you’re hesitant to hand it to him. Knowing that when you do, you’ll have to say goodbye no matter what. 

Namjoon senses your hesitance, and pulls you in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace and holding you close against his body, he tries to convey every thought he’s thinking into one hug and make it last for a lifetime.

With one final burst of confidence, you pull yourself away from Namjoon and press your lips against his for the first and last time, relishing in the feeling of being so close to him as his free hand brushes over yours - the one holding the necklace.

All too soon, he pulls his hand back a tight grip around the necklace, breaking the jewel into a million pieces. You can feel the magic of the necklace burst free from it’s confines as you feel the kiss you share with Namjoon dissolve away. And when you finally gain the courage to open yours eyes.

He’s gone.

The loud banging is gone.

All signs of life besides yours are gone.

You’re left with nothing but a broken necklace and an empty room where the only sounds you can hear are the silence of the building, the shakiness of your breaths, and the pounding ache of your heart.

You can’t stop the sob that leaves your mouth as reality settles in and crashes down on you that he’s left and he’s gone and there’s nothing you can do to get him back anymore. You weep for the love you found and lost in such a short time, and you can’t stop yourself from wishing you hadn’t pushed him away as you had. From wishing you had appreciated him more while he was here. You cry out to the world for them to hear, but there’s nothing but the silent void that calls back.

Then you hear the footsteps.

They’re soft at first, only a patter. And then they get louder and it’s like someone is racing to get to you. Rationale leaves your mind as you come to the realization that Namjoon is still there! He didn’t disappear as you thought he had!

But nothing can mask your disappointment when you see the soft blonde locks of Taehyung run through the door. Nothing but pain and confusion. 

“Taehyung?” You ask, wiping a tear, “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I had to check on you.” He explains. He kneels down to your level and places a hand on your shoulder, “You just lost your soulmate, I couldn’t not comfort you.”

“How did you know? I never introduced you to Namjoon. No one knew about Namjoon.” You ramble on, trying to think of when you’d ever let Namjoon slip through the cracks. Then it dawns on you, that someone had to have let him in here and it wasn’t you, “Did Hoseok let you in.”

“There’s a lot that I need to explain to you.” He says. You’re confused, but you allow him a chance to explain himself. He had to have something good if it meant he got into the museum and knew about Namjoon. But then again, there was also the mention of the burglar messing with the museum equipment to break in. If anything, you’re hoping Hoseok or Yoongi is with him rather than him being a thief. 

“I’m the moon goddess.” He says.

Not what you were expecting.

“But you’re a boy.” You say without thinking. You pause for a moment to think and retrace your steps, “I mean I’m not judging, but I’m just confused.”

“When I first approached Namjoon he mistook me for a woman and I just never corrected him.” He explains. There seems to be more to his story, but you weren’t going to push it at the moment. “I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve put you through.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” You ask. If he was trying to help you and Namjoon, then he should’ve just told you that first night instead of this elaborate scheme to bring the two of you together.

He sighs, “I wanted to, but fate is tricky. I can bring you together, but fate has every right to pull you apart. I really thought this was it this time.”

“This time?” You question. Taehyung freezes, glancing at you and then to the floor in thought. It’s as if he’s having a battle within himself on the inside, something you’ve never seen from him before. “Taehyung?”

“Can I show you something?” He asks.

You raise a brow in confusion, “Show me what?”

“Your past life.”

“My past life?” You repeat.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve crossed paths with Namjoon.” He explains. Gently, Taehyung takes one of your hands and squeezes lightly, sending the room around you swirling in a funnel of blue and gold. When it stops, you find yourself in a wooden room filled with clay pots, water, and rolls upon rolls of fabric. A bed lays in the center of the room, and in the corner is where a woman who looks a lot like you sits with her hands folded in her lap.

“This is your past life with Namjoon.” He says, the thumb of the hand holding yours rubbing the back of it gently.

“I was a doctor?” You ask, taking in the simple clothes you wear as well as the supplies within the room.

“Yes.”

“Miss-” Another Taehyung peeks his head around the corner, only this one wears a woman’s hanbok in a baby blue with his long hair left down to sway free, “-his majesty would like to meet you.”

“Right!” Your other self stands quick, her hands pressed tight against her sides before she follows Taehyung out of the room.

You turn to Taehyung with an inquisitive stare, “Why are you wearing a woman’s hanbok?”

“It’s complicated, just follow me- Well, us.” He pulls you along after him, going through the door that had been shut behind your other selves.

The both of you follow them down the hallway to a room with two guards at the door. When they see Taehyung, they bow and open the doors, letting your past selves enter the room with you following after them.

On a large bed, tucked under satin sheets lay your king, cheeks sullen and heavy bags under his eyes. It doesn’t take a doctor to see how sick he is, and it breaks your heart just to see him in such a state. “Namjoon…”

“Your majesty, the doctor who will perform on you has arrived.” Taehyung’s younger self announces. When Namjoon doesn’t answer, he gently shakes him awake, “Your majesty?”

Namjoon opens his eyes slowly, taking a moment to register what Taehyung’s told him. He sees your other self, and you see a glimmer of the smile he’d shown you only minutes prior, “I-” The king coughs, “I thank you...for coming all this way. I hope-” he pauses, “I hope your trip was well.”

Your past self bows her head in respect, “It was very gracious of you, your majesty. I am honored to ease you into the afterlife so that you may meet your one true love.”

Namjoon gives a subtle nod of his head, “Your words warm my heart...I thank you for your service.”

“It is my honor.” You say, bowing your head in respect, “You should rest now, my king. You need your energy for when you wake again.”

“Yes...I look forward to it.” He muses, eyes closing once again. 

You feel the tears on your cheeks, but your past self doesn’t bat an eye as she turns to Taehyung’s former self, “He won’t make it through the night. Not like this.”

“That’s what we’ve feared.” Taehyung admits solemnly. He allows a moment of peace before a thought rushes to him, “The king! He asked me to make sure you receive all of his items that will be in his tomb.”

“Shouldn’t his servants be the ones to keep track of his belongings?” You ask him, watching as he searches the room for something.

“Yes, but he told me himself, he wishes to have his lover’s necklace with him.” He assures you. He takes a minute, but he finds the box in only a few moments on a chest closer to the door, “I would bring it back myself, but I do not wish to leave the king in his final hours.”

You nod in understanding, “I understand. I’ll take it for you. Anything for his majesty.” 

You watch as your past self reaches for the box to take it back to the medical room with her, but a guard barges in and stops her, “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“His majesty asked for his belongings to be moved to his operation room.” You explain, your hands quickly moving back to yours sides.

“No one but his royal guards are to touch the necklace!” The guard bellows. He grabs your past self and pushes her towards the door, “Out with you!” Another guard meets her before she stumbles to the floor and the first guard gets in his face, “Make sure she gets back to her room, and don’t let her out until the king has passed.”

“Please, she was just following orders. I heard them myself.” Taehyung’s previous self tries to explain. Unfortunately, for the both of them, the guard wants nothing to do with it.

“When my king tells me what he wishes, then I will his - and only his - orders.” The guard spits, slamming the door in past Taehyung’s face. 

The door closing sends the image into smoke, and when it clears you find yourself back in the museum in the same empty exhibit.

“When they wouldn’t listen to me, I vowed to bring you together in your next lives.” He tells you, his head to the ground. When he meets your eyes, there are tears running down his cheeks, “But I failed again.”

“Tae…”

“I’m so sorry.” He weeps, hanging his head in shame once again.

You only move closer to him and wrap your arms over his shoulders, “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Together you mourn the loss of a friend

A promise

And a lover.

~ Read Part 3 ~

[nsheetee]

Physics Teacher!Doyoung x Art Teacher!Reader

Genre: High School Teacher AU, Enemies to Lovers AU || fluff, slightly crack-ish

Summary: Doyoung is ecstatic to start working at his first job in Neo City High School... until he runs into you, the eccentric new art teacher that quickly gets under his skin. When you and Doyoung are forced to chaperone the Valentine’s Day dance, you have to put all of your differences aside in the name of stopping high schoolers from grinding on each other and protecting the fruit punch from being spiked.

Word Count: 3k

a/n: happy birthday to the bunny prince! I hope your bday is filled with love, and cheers to the future! also, I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

doyoung loves school

always did: as a child, in high school, and in college

he honestly loved to learn and was studious, his parents always bragged about his grades and long high school resume filled from top to bottom with achievements and scholarships

but doyoung was glad to finally hold his college diploma in his hand, marking the end of his student days and signaling the beginning of his professional career

as a high school teacher

many of his friends warned him that teaching in a high school would be draining, that it would kill doyoung’s spirit within the first school year 

doyoung didn’t listen, his friends have never been teachers so what could they know?

he walked into his very own classroom on teacher prep day, a few days before the actual first day of school

he breathed in the musty smell of old carpet and the sharp tang of dry erase markers 

ah, yes, perfect

doyoung neatly arranged his desk; his favorite fountain pen had to be exactly 10cm from his computer keyboard and the computer monitor had to be facing up at a 19 degree angle so doyoung wouldn’t have a double chin while looking at the screen

yes, he did use his trusty ruler and protractor to measure it all out, and then neatly placed them into the top drawer of his desk 

doyoung has always been tidy, very articulate and precise

what else would you expect from a man who studied math and physics for five years?

just before leaving his room to meet with his boss, the principal, he’s startled by a knock on his door

you stand at the entrance to his classroom, a bright smile on your face and your hands clasped in front of you as you bounce on your toes

your outfit consists of a long, dark orange skirt that nearly touched the floor and teased the sandals that are strapped to your feet

you wore a bright yellow shirt with a short blue scarf wrapped around your neck, some wooden jewelry laying on the scarf and also dangling from your ears

doyoung is sure his mouth is open in disbelief but he can’t seem to regain enough control over his face to hide his surprised and mortified expression

“hi! you’re kim doyoung, right? the new physics teacher? I’m Y/N.” your voice is chipper and bright

“are you in the correct place, ma’am? this is neo city high school.” doyoung asks 

you tilt your head slightly, wondering why he’s asking such a question

“oh!” you exclaim, moving your wooden necklace and blue scarf out of the way to show doyoung your teacher badge, “I’m a new teacher this year, just like you! I thought I would come say hi.” 

doyoung is sure his mouth is, once again, slacked open 

looking down at himself, he sees a very big contrast in what you look like and what he looks like

doyoung wears a crisp white shirt that’s buttoned all the way up, a blue tie around his collar and his own teacher badge perfectly centered in the middle of his chest

he ironed his slacks this morning and even shined his shoes

is this not the dress code for teachers at NCHS?

he’s sure he read the dress code section of the teacher’s manual, stating that professional attire is required

but as he watches you dance into his classroom from his desk chair, skirt swinging around your legs, curious eyes glancing all over his room... he’s not sure what to do

should he tell his superiors?

he doesn’t get to think much before you sigh and close your eyes, holding out your arms on either side of you as if you can feel some nonexistent wind pass by you

“wow, you have such a nice classroom. the windows and the view, I wish my classroom was open like this.”

“may I ask... what class you teach?”

“art” 

doyoung immediately does not like you

maybe he’s a bit biased (okay, very biased) but he has never liked art

the atmosphere of an art class is not his cup of tea

why are there no written rules for art?

why was he always instructed to “paint with your heart and soul, not your brain”?

why did his high school art teacher scold him for drawing the golden ratio for every single assignment if there are no rules!?

it’s the only C doyoung ever received and, yes, he’s still salty about it

“oh. my. goodness.” doyoung is pulled out of his path down memory lane by your exclamation 

you stride over to his desk, finding a seat next to his computer and accidentally moving it with your hip

doyoung gasps when his perfect 19 degree angle is ruined, and his hands come up to grip the hair at the back of his head when you pick up his favorite fountain pen, turning it over in your fingers

“uh...” doyoung trails off, not sure how to politely tell you to get away from his stuff

“I love this pen!” you exclaim, “this is a Monteverde, isn’t it? wow, I never expected anyone else to appreciate good quality pens, especially not physics teachers.” 

your comment flies over doyoung’s head, he can only focus on how you keep annoyingly clicking the pen and randomly drawing on his clean sticky notes that he placed exactly 17cm from the edge of his desk

in what feels like only seconds to doyoung, you draw an intricate lily on a sticky note and stick it to his computer monitor 

haphazardly dropping the pen back onto his desk, you hop off and wave at your fellow co-worker as you walk out of the room

doyoung can only stare at the mess you left behind; you were only in his classroom for a total of three minutes and yet, it looks like a litter of puppies were let loose 

doyoung’s distaste for you didn’t end there

once school started, he could see the increasing amount of students that absolutely loved you and your art classes

he heard about how you walk around in flip flops and sandals, even when the temperature started to drop outside

he heard about your habit of humming jazz while painting, tapping your foot and bobbing your head along to your own music

he over heard students talking about how you’ve never once worn the same set of jewelry, and betting on how many different sets you actually have

doyoung isn’t sure why he’s so intrigued by you; you have absolutely nothing in common and doyoung doesn’t understand your eccentric way of living

but the universe keeps pulling you to each other

for example, how you both come to school at the same time, punching in for work on the same minute, awkwardly giving your “good morning’s” to each other before you go to your respective classrooms

or how you both have your break during 3rd period, and go to the teacher’s work room in the office to grab a cup of coffee and whatever delicious pastries the office ladies brought in that day

even when you both run the after school clubs (doyoung helps run the robotics club, you help run the art club) you’d somehow bump into each other despite the club rooms being on opposite sides of the school

other than the first day you met, doyoung has no reason to be angry with you

but he is, for some reason he can’t get you off of his mind, and it’s infuriating

maybe doyoung is infuriated because you don’t seem to be affected by his presence in the same way that he’s affected by yours

he always pushes that thought out of his mind, but today, when you’re both called to the home economics room, it’s more apparent than usual

you’re already talking to mr. lee when doyoung walks in, your smiling face and comfortable posture with your co-worker makes that fire in his stomach ignite, and he just wants this to be over with as quickly as possible

“ah, doyoung you’re here, great! I have a favor to ask both of you” mr. lee, or ten as you both know him, rests his elbows on the desk and clasps his hands in front of him, “I need you two to chaperone the valentine’s day dance tonight”

“there’s a valentine’s day dance tonight?” doyoung asks and ten sends him a deadpanned look

“yes? it’s been on the morning announcements everyday this week”

doyoung crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks away, a bit embarrassed that he’s been caught not listening to the mandatory morning announcements

(doyoung always wears crisp dress shirts to work, and you about die when his arms bulge through the shirt with his actions, his chest seeming to stretch wider than the ocean and shoulders looking as solid as a rock)

(maybe you gulp a bit, and maybe you try not to pant at the sight, also)

“didn’t you tell me that you and principal moon usually chaperone the valentine’s day dance?” you ask, moving your attention away from doyoung’s chest and turning to ten

“yes, we do, but this year mr. moon’s wife surprised him with a dinner date and he says he can’t let her down”

“and why can’t you chaperone?”

“my cat went into labor”

you and doyoung look at ten with dead stares, trying to comprehend ten’s words

ten scoffs and rolls his eyes, slamming his palm down onto his desk

“well? is no one going to congratulate me? I’m going to be a grandpa by the end of tonight!”

“congrats...” you mumble out, “but I’m sorry, I can’t chaperone tonight.” you try to quickly think up of a valid excuse as to why, but nothing of value comes to mind

“yeah, neither can I” doyoung speaks up, turning around to walk out of the room

“wait” ten speaks up, making doyoung turn back to face both of you, “if I remember correctly, I covered for both of you when you couldn’t show up to the bi-yearly meeting last month. you both owe me, and this is how you’ll repay.”

you and doyoung visibly sulk in your spots

it’s true, ten did cover for you when you couldn’t go to that important meeting, and by the look on doyoung’s face, it looks like ten has him trapped, too

so that’s how you and doyoung end up at the gym after school, watching the student council committee set up all the decorations and the dj set up his equipment on stage

the theme is “love under the sea” 

doyoung cringes when he saw the banner reveal over the front of the gym, and you can’t help but wince at the overused theme

the decorations are lovely, though; different shades of blue lights glow from the the ceiling and cast a blue hue to everyone below, the stage is covered in blue tinsel and large balloon figures of seashells, crabs, and mermaids

even the drink and snack tables have underwater themed cookies and chips, with large bowls of blue fruit punch centered on every table

so far, chaperoning is easy; you and doyoung have to make sure no one gets hurt and that there’s enough helium for the hundreds of balloons that were blown up and are currently rolling around on the floor

but then, students start to arrive

ten assured you and doyoung earlier that no more than 100 students would show up the whole night; groups of people would come in and out for the three hours that the dance would be going on

but of course, tonight is the night that everyone decides to come to the dance

although the student council is having the time of their lives with the amount of money they’re receiving in ticket profits, yours and doyoung’s eyes bulge at how over 100 hundred students are already waiting in line to enter the gym

“wait, wait” you run towards a group of girls who just paid for their tickets, “you have to take your shoes off before going in”

“why?” they give you an almost disgusted look, and you entertain the fact that you have to look up at them to look them in the eyes

“your heels could scrap the gym floor, please take them off” you look down at the girls’ shoes, confused on how they can balance on such tiny leverages 

“but, it’s part of my outfit” you give the girls one long, hard, blank stare until they roll their eyes and step out of the heels, immediately shortening themselves by four inches and walking away

doyoung’s night also doesn’t start out smoothly....

he walks into the boy’s bathroom, hoping to relieve himself before the dance actually got underway, but instead is frightened by a pair of students playing tonsil hockey against the urinals 

“mr. kim!” they shout and doyoung covers his eyes and turns away, for some reason feeling like he’s in the wrong even though the public restroom is not supposed to be used for making out

“the dance started 10 minutes ago and you’re already doing that!” doyoung shouts and the students apologize, heads bowed as they scurry out the door

about an hour into the dance, you and doyoung finally find each other through the chaos of the school gym

“either ten lied to us or today is just an anomaly; there has to be at least 300 students here right now” doyoung tries to speak over the music, but you still have to lean in to hear him

“we need to call other teachers to come help, it can’t just be the two of us here.” you reply, but doyoung barely pays attention

you face is leaning into his, but your sporadic eyes and looking somewhere else 

the blue hues of the lights shine off of your cheekbones and permeate through your hair

doyoung thinks you look good in blue, and he could keep looking at you for a while longer

until something behind you catches his eye

“oh, no...” doyoung trails off, and you look turn around

in the middle of the dance floor, right in front of the dj’s speakers, a swarm of students gather around and you can faintly see through the dim lights of the gym that a grind circle ensues

“oh, no...” you mimic doyoung as the group of students “dance” to the music, almost gyrating and squirming against their partners

it’s almost too painful and awkward to watch

doyoung makes the first move to separate the circle, trying to push his way through, the swarm of students stick together like a group of flamingos; they’re so congested that it would be easier to move through a vat of molasses

the teens stick to each other in their dance moves and you feel sorry for doyoung who tries to yell “no hands on knees. I said DO NOT PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR KNEES” at the crowd, the music swallowing him up

as you watch on, your eyes latch onto a group of guys who surround one of the drink and snack tables

you would’ve overlooked them, but the way they’re suspiciously eyeing their surroundings makes you curious

you walk closer, only to see one of the guys carrying a shiny flask, holding it upside down over a punch bowl

“woah, woah, woah, what do you think you’re doing?” you call out as you march closer, frightening the group of students 

“nothing, we’re just getting a drink.” maybe if you didn’t see them pour alcohol into the punch bowl earlier, you would be fooled by their lies, but you give them a disappointed look

“really? that’s why you have a flask on you?” you ask the student with the alcohol, and all of their eyes widen into dinner plates

the night only erupts into more chaos after that

you and doyoung never have enough time to stop and call ten or any other teacher to come help you, too busy dealing with teenage antics

at one point in the night, “under the sea” plays, and you and doyoung are pulled into a conga line of students as they travel around the gym, and someone from the yearbook committee snaps a picture on a polaroid camera

as the night comes to a close, students leave to go home and the gym floor becomes visible once again

you sit against the wall, holding the polaroid in your hand and silently smiling at yours and doyoung’s surprised expressions, his hands on your shoulders and a bad, red flash in both of your eyes, only adding to the candidness of the whole scene

doyoung slides down next to you and hands you a cup of the spiked punch, which you had moved to a different room after you reprimanded the boys who spiked it

“for me?” you ask as you accept the cup

“yeah, I think we both deserve it for dealing with tonight” you and doyoung do a silent cheers and hit your plastic cups together before downing all the punch

“wow,” you cough a bit, placing a hand over your mouth “high schoolers don’t play around, huh” you look at the cup, wondering exactly how much alcohol was in it before setting it down on the floor, deciding not to think to much about it

the dj was hired from 7pm to 10pm, and although doyoung’s watch says it’s 9:57pm, the dj still plays songs even though only you and doyoung are here to listen to them

“this is for the chaperones tonight,” the dj suddenly speaks into his microphone, “you guys did a good job.” 

a slow song starts to play, you and doyoung don’t recognize it, but doyoung laughs awkwardly at how you’re both put on the spot, even if there’s no one here to witness it

“well, let’s dance, doie.” you stand up and hold out your hand to him

maybe it’s the energy and confidence from the alcohol, or maybe this is something doyoung has always wanted to do, but he takes your hand and guides you to the dance floor

your hands rest on his shoulders and you try not to feel giddy at the thought of finally getting to feel them after looking on from the distance for so long

you blush at your own thoughts, or maybe because of doyoung’s hands traveling around your hips and pulling you closer to him

for a minute, you and doyoung just sway a bit

the music is nice and the blue hue from the lights makes doyoung’s eyes and skin shine, you can’t pull yourself away from him

“you know, I’ve actually never been to a school dance before.” you don’t know what possesses you to say it out loud, but doyoung’s eyes widen at your words

“me, too.” 

at that moment, doyoung realizes that maybe you two do have something in common

and as you lean your head against his collarbone, humming the already familiar melody of your first song of your first school dance ever

doyoung knows he doesn’t mind getting to know the parts of you that aren’t that similar to him

it’ll be worth it

[parker-likes-tea]

Concept: My aesthetic: disheveled/chaos academia

I have fifteen teacups. No, you may not take any I’m drinking that.

I can think of specific words to describe a smell, but forget how to conjugate ‘To be” sometimes

Yes, I am still awake. Yes, this is caffeinated.

Oversized hoodies with slacks

Yes I am learning three languages, no I can’t spell my name

I get up while it is still dark, and go to sleep just hours before

Don’t even offer to clean my glasses. Just take them. we both know they are dirty

My handwriting is illegible at best, and rapid squiggles at worst

HoZieR

Pretty notes??? Bitch who has time for that. You will be happy with slightly neater writing and a broken smelly marker

My shirt collar is stained with blue hair dye. Three of the buttons are different

Don’t even ask how many notebooks I own

bedhead.

I switch between $40 per container earl grey loose leaf to bagged mixes from the corner store in seconds

Probably aro. Definitely Ace and nonbinary

I need to be brought snacks because i have been typing for three hours and forgot that humans require food

Fountain pen on paper napkins

I own a cat. She is a glorious bastard. I love her

Would rather lay on the ground and daydream then sleep

Caffeine flows in my veins

I will rant about how insane space is if you let me

This thermos has a liquid in it. What kind? Hot and caffeine

I adore jewelry. Not to flaunt expensive pieces, rather because each piece means something to me

One body part isn’t functioning. Are my hands cracked and bleeding? Are my legs scratched and bruised? Who knows. But something is going to shit

My bed is small and i sleep with my glasses s o m e w h e r e, a tarot deck under my pillow and pens and papers strewn everywhere

I’ll sleep in a moth-eaten sweater and shorts on some nights and a silk skirt with an anime shirt on others (points if I haven’t read/seen the anime)

I write bad poetry that some find life-changing

I use coloured pens for everyday projects because my collection is so huge. 

Gender is my current sewing project

I take better care of my plants then myself

SWEATERS

Fall is the best season (i will also rant about this)

I will run outside and lay in the rain

My desk is a mess. Covered in pens notebooks, various projects, and the walls have everything from Latin to memes taped to them

I am either an amazing speller or a 5-year-old. Changes with the weather

I speak out in english, and cry in Math 

Drink coffee when you need it.

Could be considered fit but I have no workout/exercise schedule. 

Lets go lay in the driveway and tell stories about the stars. I can write the essay later

I know the guy in the teashop by name and have several inside jokes with him

Ask me how pretty the moon was last night. I can tell you

I own at least one string instrument. May or may not know how to play it

Fiddling constantly. With everything. Hair, thread, rings, Rubix cube, pens, paper. Anything

This list was first written on a ripped piece of a notebook with a blue pen i stole from somewhere

My meals/snacks are either aesthetically pleasing or so very confusing.

I listen to meta-plot podcasts. The ones that confuse anyone who steals an earbud

Inheriting clothing from friends/parents

Converse and suit jackets

Using china teacups for literally anything. Tea, chocolate milk, strawberry milk, marshmallows, water, fruit juice. 

I like having a funky drink while I work, so there is always a jar with something in the fridge. 

“Yes, I am drinking vanilla milk in our bone china. I always clean it well.”

Eating cheap sushi and reading Shakespeare. 

Flopping onto any friend dumb enough to sit beside me

[timelords-angel-is-sherlocked]

I know people were interested in Lex’s journals and his writing is like chicken scratch so I decided to transcribe what I could see. If somebody has already done this, please ignore me. (These photos are available at madzahr ‘s Instagram)

Left page: [I’m pretty sure google is judging me since half of the books are cut off I was googling the authors and half the book titles lmao]

Books I Read This Week (Chronological Order)

[I think it’s Meditations?] - Aurelius

? - Barnes

Man’s Search for Meaning - Frankl

Being and Nothingness - Satre

Being and Time - Heidegger

Book of Healing - Avicenna

The Recognitions - Gaddis

The Transcendent Philosophy of the Four Journeys of the Intellect - Mulla Sadra

Phenomenology of the Spirit - Hegel

Coin Locker Babies - Murakami

The Painted Bird - Kosinski

[I think it’s Dhalgren?] - Delany

? - Kirino

? - Gombrowicz

[I think it’s The Demon?] - Selby (Give to Lena for her birthday?)

Right Page:

Lena went riding without me again today.

It’s the third time this week. I don’t know where she goes - the stable boy will tell me when I ask, or I’ll have his mother fired from the kitchens.

I’ve thought about following her, but I think that space allows her to realize how much she needs me.

I’ve organized for the novels in her room to be removed the next times she does it. She should be educating herself, not disappearing into a world of fiction. And then maybe next time she’ll learn not to ignore my wishes.

Then equations for idk what.

Left Page:

The Things I’ve Noticed About My ‘Little Sister’

Weakness for animals - especially horses. She goes riding without me nearly everyday.

Propensity for sport

[?] hand-eye coordination and [?] aptitude (see above)

Thirst for knowledge

Even greater thirst for approval, above all [from?] authority figures - Father, Mother, and [especially?] me.

[Can] remember names and dates from events [dunno] she was barely a year old - striking!

[Controlled?] easily by emotions

[?] not inclined to be strategic - but I [can] teach her that.

[Photographic?] memory?

[?] my every word, otherwise very [?] minded

Right Page:

Schematics for smth

Left Page:

[...] it is childish but the tree house [...] has built for Lena and I has [become?] my favorite refuge. The view of [...], the quiet, the peace, and the [?] Through the leaves gives me a moment  [...] I barely ever feel.

[...] quiet moments with Lena are [very?] precious to me. She seems to be [content?] to sit and talk with me. It helps [to?] forget Father and his love of the [alcohol?]

[I wonder?] if she misses her mother. [She] has such a good memory that I’m [sure she?] remembers every moment with [her mom? I?] feel that keeping her away from [?] Mother is helping her [?]. Love and kindness will only make her weak. I want her to be strong, [subservient?] woman that I know [she could?] be.

[Lena?] needs to learn to think like a [Luthor??] She needs to think 10 [steps in?] advance.

Right Page:

Schematics of smth

Left Page:

Sketches of where Lex probably wanted to build the safe house.

Right Page:

I miss Colorado. The tree house [...] Lena was one of my best [??] She was so receptive to my suggestions when we were there. [[uhhhhhh that’s so creepy]]

She would sit, rapt, hanging onto my every word. Like the perfect [dunno if there’s another word here] audience - a very smart puppet and I hold the strings. The [?] was where she finally accepted [my?] control over her. I convinced her [to?] work harder on her chess game [moves? It’s?] such a lovely metaphor. The [King?], the Queen, the Knight... and [?] above it all seeing all the moves [?] master of the game.

One day I will be master of it [?]. Master of the house, master of [?] country, master of the world. And, of course, Lena’s master.

[[This makes me so uncomfortable. Lena is literally a child]]

Left Page:

[When] I was a very young boy I recall a day when my Father took me to one of his many bank vaults.He showed me [stacks] upon stacks of money, trays of [?] and a [?] of gold bars.

[?] told me that all of this, and more [?] his. That I am his sole heir. [?] that unless I worked very hard [and?] truly applied myself he would [?] it all.

[?] burn it all and laugh while [?], my child’s tears and that [?] tears would be worth more [?] than 100 bank vaults because [?] be teaching me life’s most [important?] lesson.

Right Page:

idk some numbers

Above:

Mother always lets me do as I wish - and Lena tags along like a lap dog.

I wish we didn’t have to stay in this little backwater town, though. We could go to our house in the Rockies or St. Barth’s, or Metropolis but no - Kansas is where they’ve left me. As though I’m not meant for anything greater.

Father ‘lost his temper’ again. He smashed the phone against the wall like a bludgeon to a pigeon’s head.

Lena stole his prized fountain pen for me - the one presented to him by the King of Jordan. Lena craves my attention - pathetic.

If she knew how brilliant she was, she wouldn’t need it.

In conclusion, Lex is creepy, manipulative, and probably abused Lena when she was younger. It took some time to transcribe all of this, but I didn’t get everything. If anyone wants to try and fill in some gaps, be my guest :)

[door-into-summer]

Ten Niche Interests

@chaotic-archaeologist tagged me, so here we go! And now I suddenly can’t think of a single interest I have, because that’s how my brain works.

1. Tea

Because I’m Like That and tea is good. I cannot stand iced tea, so for ages I thought that I didn’t like tea because I live in the midwest and hot tea isn’t very common. Green tea is one of the best things on earth.

2. Solitaire

There is not much to do while stuck inside, so I’ve gotten really good at solitaire. My little sister taught me how to play by yelling at me every time I made an unwise move and it still haunts me. 

3. Fountain Pens

Is it pretentious? Yes. Would I ever go back to writing with a ballpoint? No. It feels good to not have to throw out plastic pens constantly, and these things are just nice to write with.

4. Etymology

I love looking at how words are related, so I’d probably be taking Latin even if it wasn’t necessary for studying the ancient world! I’m also learning French, which has some interesting cognates with English.

5. Calligraphy

I had a wall of stupid quotes in fancy calligraphy on notecards in my dorm. It never failed to get weird looks.

6. Sherlock Holmes

This isn’t super niche, but I’ve been obsessed with it lately. It’s really fun to read the stories and then watch a bunch of different adaptations and examine how different people have interpreted the character. Also, Holmes is really living the dream. He’s respected in his field despite his eccentricities and has a very close friend and companion in Watson? That’s all I want in life.

7. Theater Costuming

I’m a recovering theater kid. Still, I can’t help but analyze every costume I see onstage. I’d kill for the chance to examine costumes from Phantom of the Opera or R&H Cinderella in person. (Seriously, those transforming dresses are magical.) 

8. Guitars

I’m not much of a performer. I mostly stick to acoustic, but messing with electric guitars is so much fun. I bought an $80 stratocaster and turned it into a pretty damn good instrument if I do say so myself. Right now I’m thinking about building an electric guitar from scratch.

9. Record Collecting

I’m not going to be a snob here and say that everything sounds better on vinyl. I enjoy the ritual of it. Putting a record on has a much nicer vibe than telling my speaker to play the Monkees for the fifth time because it can’t understand what I’m saying. And nothing beats finding an album you’ve been searching for after digging through crates for an afternoon. 

10. Sewing

I’m putting this on here because not many people my age know how to sew. I really like making hats or embellishing garments with paint, sequins, embroidery, or whatever. Everything I’ve ever sewn is ridiculous in one way or another and none of it could pass as everyday wear, so I often forget how many garments I’ve actually sewn. 

I tag @captainameriwoman @nezclaw @the-world-of-erit @moonrocksz @johns-deacon and anybody else who wants to do this!

[caffeinestudyingg]

100 Things I should have learned in high school

Sorry for the long post but some of this may be helpful? Some of these were specific to my high school because I wrote it for some underclassmen friends after I graduated, take them as you will and use these tips as you see fit.

Everything will be ok

there is a difference between working hard and overworking

if you are shaking, chill it with the caffeine

your mental health is important and shouldn’t be ignored

the water fountains by the band room have the coldest and cleanest waters consistently

some teachers will insist you do things exactly their way, do what works for you and add the facade of their template at the end

take notes everyday!

do not forget your earbuds

the heat and air con are turned off over the weekends so expect extreme weather on Mondays

if offered a study period, you should take it

make good relationships with your teachers

make good relationships with your teachers that have a Keurig and are willing to let you use it

never skip out on extra credit

sometimes teachers will actually let you have class outside, if you want it ask for it

everything will be ok

take classes that interest you

it is never too early to start thinking about college

eating one good meal a day is imperative to staying healthy and not feeling terrible

the practice rooms are a good spot for skipping class to work on projects if you need a quiet place to work

AP exams are only as scary as you let them become

your teachers want you to succeed.

only cry in front of your teachers if you truly can’t help it or if you really need to raise your grade (but don’t push it, this usually only works once)

“if you can’t change the people around you, change the people around you”

get a job early, get used to the load of work and school

sneaking out of school lands you in detention and without a parking pass, it’s not worth it

choosing good project partners is the most important part of in class relationships

say hello to the janitors, they are the glue that holds this schools together

family is more than the people that you are related to, find the people you love and hold them close

making friends with people in other grades is risky business come graduation time

making friends with people in other grades can help you meet some of the best people you know

everything will be ok

don’t switch out of a class just because you don’t like a teacher

be kind to everyone even if it hurts

don’t buy coffee from the cafeteria, its decaf and the taste isn’t worth it

don’t be the friend that never has gas money for the driver, that becomes a reputaion

a relationship should not outweigh the importance of your friendships

don’t text something you don’t mean, emotions pass but screenshots last forever

keep a spare phone charger in your backpack

only lend out pens and pencils you don’t want back

don’t be afraid to like something your friends think is stupid

take more candid photos of your friends

don’t define yourself by your biggest mistake or best achievement

you only get out what you put in

if you need help ask for it

studying the night before tests will only wear you out, instead try baking

honor your commitments

everything will be ol

don’t partake in petty gossip

you can buy cans of coffee for less than a dollar at the gas station

everyday is pajama day if you don’t care enough

keep in contact with friends outside of school

most of the best parts of high school happen on accident

if you decide to take a stand make sure you are strong enough for the backlash that will come from it

teachers are legally obligated to report anyone they feel is a danger to themselves or others, don’t blame them for trying to keep you safe if you end up talking to counsolers

don’t spend the next three years just trying to get out

nobody like the guy that eats loudly in class

“you carry your test scores, not the other way around”

no question is too stupid to be asked in class

keep a planner

avoid napping in class

everyone is freaking out just as much as you are all the time

leave a mark on this school that does not include spray paint and expletives

make friends with people who have names close to yours in the alphabet

overworking only leads to sickness and breakdowns

keep a journal

sometimes the best thing to do is drive with the windows down and sing to your favorite songs

you can’t open your gmail on school wifi but you can open netflix

if your hobbies don’t make you happy anymore it is time to recconsider

high school is the best place to try new things for free and little consequence

don’t be afraid to be “that kid” with the blanket and snacks during finals 

if the guidance counselors give you a deadline, they are not kidding

making friends with the office staff can get you out of trouble with attendance issues

learn how to study for real instead of cramming

school trips are way more fun than you would think

you are going to miss more people than you think you will

it is ok to not miss people you thought were your whole world at one point

don’t feel obligated to stay in harmful relationships

everything will be ol

sending bogus emails the night before an assignment explaining why you won’t have it finished can help in getting an extension if you absolutely need it

junior year is probably going to be the worst

don’t spend all of your time at home

being sad with friends always feels better than being sad alone

no one will notice if you wear the same pair of pants all week

white lies are still lies

if you write on your hand make sure it hasn’t smeared on your face when you wake up in the morning

you are never going to “feel like it” so do it now

different teas are supposed to be brewed differently and it does make a difference

wash your face

it is never too late to start learning something new

you will be a completely different person when you graduate and you will be thankful for it

make goals for the future that get you out of bed in the morning

creating a facade of yourself is a lot of work and unnecessary 

there is no easy way to love yourself but once you begin things will get easier

if no one can talk you out of something then it is something you are meant to do

don’t be afraid to be a complete dork over something

scars don’t always fade the way you think they will- both physical and mental

use your words

always remember to be grateful and humble, there will always be someone that knows more than you and you should respect that

stop pretending you don’t need sleep to function

everything will be ok

[idhruven]

#Shaneri

Baby Anni,

I know I still say baby, because that’s what you are to me today, one day before you tie the knot with the man of your dreams, that’s what you were the day Mamu and Mami brought you home from the third step of Vishweshwar Mahadev temple and that’s what you’ll always be. I just wanted to write this letter to you to tell you how proud I am that you’ve gone from wearing the fountain ponytails into this beautiful, young lady, taking on this big world and now you have the kindest gentleman by your side to help you do it.

Oh no! You’re getting married.

Oh, how many stories we could tell and how many secrets we’ve shared. It’s ENDLESS! The memories, the laughs, the tears, the highs, the lows.. we’ve lived them all. We’re about to experience yet another beautiful memory tomorrow as you say your vows in the Pheras and marry the man you were always supposed to find. I’ve got say a few things…

Tomorrow will not only change your life but also all of ours in the best way possible. Our little Anni will be a married woman! Remember the times we used to play ‘Ghar’ and you used to say, “I think I’ll be a pretty dulhan!” although we thought that this day would be somewhere with Sharukh Khan. But, girl, I’d say it’s even better than we imagined. Tomorrow is the big day we’ve dreamed about since we were little as I can remember and looking at the ‘Vaarghodas’ from our balconies! We always knew this day would be something special, but I have to say, you’ve made it even more that we could’ve imagined. I cannot wait to see you walk down the aisle in your beautiful sari taking your first steps down a path towards a new chapter. So, I sit here in this awful haircut that you are forcing me to wear, I realize that even though our relationship may not be exactly the same, I welcome new changes wholeheartedly.

I would need a thousand blog posts to tell you just how much you mean to me and just how PROUD I am of you. I will start by saying, I have been blessed in so many ways by having you as my sister. You have always been a person that I respect and admire! You’re everything “good”. What I mean by that is… you’re the kind of good that’s not just surface deep, but you’re good to the core; the purest of hearts. You always see the best in people and treat them with a kindness that is rare to find and anyone that is lucky enough to be in your life is BETTER because of it. I am so proud of for your strength and resilience. It hasn’t always been easy! You fought through difficult circumstances, and dealt with hardships, but you’ve overcome! All of those experiences have brought you here… to this special day. Through the ups and downs, God was faithful and we saw this first hand when he placed someone in your life that adores you. It is an answer to our prayers from our coutless trips to Palitana that you’ve found a man that cherishes you and sees you for who you are; how we all see you! Someone that makes you feel safe and accepts every part of you.

We’ve held hands through it all, the time you didn’t want to go to tuitions because you had a bad hair day, the time you wanted to sneak out for the night over in 11thgrade and even from all the times you were in bad mood when you had a fight with Shan! Even though I’m older, I always learned so much from you – like all those impromptu ‘Remix’ songs dances we used to do and show it to everyone in the house (more on this at the end)! Today and everyday I’m still here to hold your hand though it. I have watched you my entire life. It’s kind of also funny how nothing has changed throughout the years gone by.

I’ll start with this – you’re going to have a partner along with you during the big days of your life, the big parenting decisions, dealing with the parents and in-laws (Oh, and those Ekta Kapoor soaps we used to watch, no kidding, they’re kinda true), but you’ll also have someone to wake up with on Sunday mornings and do a closet cleaning session with. No matter how big or small just remember you’ll have fun during all those times. But, trust me when I say this – sometimes fun and magic will come easily to the both of you and sometimes you’re going to have to try hard. We’ve been best friends before I even knew what a best friend was, and have had some battles that only we can come back from. We’ve grown up side by side with one always catching the other when we fall, and catapulting one other during times of success. We’ve learned from each other’s mistakes and carried life lessons passed between us along the way. A friendship may know all of your best stories, but a sister is the one who lived them with you. And damn it that ever the truth.

I can’t wait to hear about milestones that’ll make up your early years of marriage – like you finally not burning dinner, or him bringing flowers to you at work. But I’ll also be eagerly waiting to hear about the later ones: the dinner you will have perfected over the years, or him bringing you flowers for your golden anniversary.

Remember this Anni, relationships aren’t easy and compromises are a must. There will be days that you’ll have to let Shan go for drinks with the guys even though you want to spend the evening with him and there will be days that he’ll have to take on baby duty because your friend wants to watch a re-run of Koffee with Karan and eat ice cream cause she had a fight with her boyfriend! But you’ll soon realize it is all worth it. Every night you’ll be able to come and snuggle up to your favourite man (well second favorite, after Prabu Ofcourse) and the compromises will just seem like a teeny-tiny price to pay. We are not perfect, and we never try to be. We would rather eat ‘Paanchur’ than get all dulled up and dine out at a fabcy restaurant. We laugh too hard, but never too often, and usually make a fool of ourselves (okay mostly me) in the process. We’ve defended one another without giving it a second thought.

We are brother and sister.

As we approach this big day I just thought some elder brother words of wisdom should be passed down. I am after all 13 months, and a nephew older as well as not adopted, but not so sure about the wiser part (you know I’m just winging it as it comes, right?) Even though I feel like I have already welcomed Shan into our lives (Yes Shan, I say our lives because she was and will always be mine first), tomorrow makes it official. So, before he takes you from me, and changes your last name, I am taking one last moment to make it all about us. The Shah Bro-Sis.

Anni, you’re going to make the most stunning, loving, and brightest bride tomorrow. And your dulhe-raja will be waiting for you at the mandap all ready to fall in love with that radiant smile all over again. For some siblings, that may feel a little like two people parting ways. But I know that isn’t the case for us! I will no longer be just a brother anymore, but a brother-in-law, and one day (hopefully soon), a Mama again!

Also, forgive me, because I will promise not to cry, but then of course I will, because it will be hard not to. I’ll shed a tear when you hold your husband’s hand for the first time as a married lady and pose for a picture. When you ask me to hug you one last time before you leave the venue, I’ll probably not do it because I won’t be able to stop bawling because it’s too hard. It won’t be easy to let a part of my heart go, without me mourning, even though I know this is such a happy occasion. It’s hard to share you with anyone else!

So, I pen down my thoughts today, thinking about you in that gorgeous ping Lehenga, I have tears in my eyes. I’m now not only your big brother but Shan’s too! I hope I live upto the task. But if you ask me, I’m crazy excited to have a new member in our little gang! Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new chapter. Not just for you and Shan, but for us too. Uncharted waters that neither of us truly know anything about. You will officially be writing a new story and creating a new family. A family of your own.

Besides, another apology is for being a tad too clingy. I know that I need to let you go and live this new exciting life, but it’ll take me some time to accept it! I’ll call you 10 times a day, I’ll constantly ask you to come home and meet us, and I will be tad jealous of your husband because hey, he is fast becoming as special as I am, to you! Yes, I will probably never accept that he can become more special than me to you, even though he has every right to be. I also have to open my heart to include Shan in my life as much as I love you, I will be a little rude and annoying at times. Sorry if I ever ignore him and only hug you instead!

Enjoy the day baby, it’s your once in a lifetime fairytale day and we’re all here to make it as special as the one you’ve been dreaming about. You and Shan are going to live a joyful life together, grow old loving eachother, learning new quirks about eachother and making the best team ever. I am showering all my love, flowers, blessings and anything else I can get a hold on for the two of you. The way you two look at eachother, assures me that your adoration will last a lifetime and he’ll be there to protect you whenever I can’t. Our bond is stronger than ever before, and I will stand beside you tomorrow like I have our entire lives and continue to do so no matter where life takes us.

On this day, I toast to us and the bond that can never be broken to the new life you are about to start with the man of your dreams.

Happy Wedding day, Anni! The best is yet to come…

All of my Love from the best friend and brother for life,

Prabhu

[themostinnovativeperson]

8 Ways to Improve Your Handwriting

Handwriting is more than just a form of communication. It's part of our identity; you can always tell if something is written by you or someone else. The flourishes, how we cross our Ts and dot our Is, can be telling of our personalities. Our handwriting can change from being super neat and then chicken scrawl when we're in a hurry. Handwriting is almost certainly what sparks discussion. Everything from what pen or paper was used to produce such elegance, to advice on how to improve handwriting skills. Writing on a desk will provide you with a more stable platform than, say, on your knee, or sitting on a train, or riding a roller coaster, you get the point .Your choice of pen will sometimes, but not always, affect how you write. A fountain pen can yield a different handwriting style altogether if you're used to using a ballpoint. I've also known some super talented masters of handwriting, who produce jaw-dropping handwritten texts regardless of what pen they use. The more flowy the ink, the greater the challenge in controlling those letter forms. My grandmother would often scold me on "choking" the pencil. You know, where you wrap your fingers so tight that they're contorted around the pencil, almost like you're trying to breath while you are choked . A firm, controlled grip on the pencil, a loose wrist, your elbow as an anchor point, and relax your shoulders - this was her handwriting mantra. You'd move your hand across the page with your elbow almost like a pivot point. Moving from the wrist will eventually cause hand fatigue and cramping, so keeping this loose and your shoulders relaxed will ensure a pleasant writing experience. Take it back to basics.Start with writing in big bold letters like we used to when we were learning letters in kindergarten. Write using crayons or markers if you want to. Going back to big letter forms can help reshape and retrain your handwriting muscles for writing on a smaller scale. Keep your old writing samples and date them. This is a great way of tracking your progress. Remember it's not about getting it perfect, but rather, progressing and improving. Be kind to yourself, especially when you're first starting out. Handwriting refers to the style and technique that you use to jot things down day to day. Handwriting needs to be quicker and more practical . While everyone has their own personal handwriting style, there’s always room for improvement!

You’ll find eight ways to help you improve your handwriting.

1.    Practice with a worksheet

If you want a structured way to improve your handwriting just practice a some free worksheet which is available on google .  The cursive writing featured in the worksheet set isn’t any sort of formal style. Instead, it focuses on the letterforms that I, personally, use in everyday cursive handwriting. Those letters are easy to create, and they connect to each other beautifully to make for quick writing.

 

2.    Embrace your personal style

Handwriting is a very fluid, personal thing that is always evolving. It’s not like calligraphy, where you more or less write the same every time. Instead, you’ll have neat days, and you’ll have not-so-neat days. No matter how your handwriting looks, it is a wonderful reflection of you and your personality. That’s why people love receiving handwritten notes: they represent a piece of you! So, don’t get too hung up on a radical change: instead, focus on making clearly formed letters that are easy to read.

3.   Use a nice pen

The adjective “nice” is subjective you’ll have to hunt to find the pen that works for you! You can find thousands of pens on the market, so I encourage you to shop around. Pick up a pen here and there, and give it a try! It doesn’t matter if you prefer gel pens, fountain pens, ballpoint pens whatever you connect with the best is perfect.

 

4.     Maintain a relaxed grip

A nice, relaxed grip is one of the main things that will improve your handwriting. A “relaxed grip” means that none of the muscles in your hand are overly flexed, and your fingernails shouldn’t be white from squeezing the pen’s barrel. Many people tend to clutch the pen, which will result in an achy hand after a few minutes of writing. We often clutch without realizing we’re doing it, so try to mentally check yourself every few minutes to make sure you’re still holding the pen comfortably.

5.    Start with drills

Whether you plan on writing in cursive or print, it can be difficult to form nice letters without warming up. Doing a couple of simple drills will help you to write clear, confident characters . Handwriting drills tend to be simple but mighty, and the more you do them, the more of a difference you’ll notice.

6.    Experiment with paper rotation

As children, we are generally taught to keep our paper in a vertical position in front of us. If that works for you, great! If not, feel free to experiment with different paper rotations. Keeping the paper at a certain angle can go a long way in helping you to improve your handwriting! Most right-handed people are fine with the traditional vertical paper position, but I’m not one of them. I have always found it easier to write particularly in cursive, which is my style of choice my paper is rotated 90 degrees. I’m not kidding: you can watch this super short video to see! Paper rotation is a personal thing, so I encourage you to try all sorts of different angles. Right-handed people should start at the vertical position, and rotate the paper to the left until writing feels easy and comfortable. Left-handed people should start at the vertical position, and rotate the paper to the right.

7.    Sneak in practice when you can

Just like anything else, you can improve your handwriting with use. The more you write using good habits and implementing styles that appeal to you, the better your handwriting will get. You can get practice through a number of ways — for example, you might send some a hand written letters in place of an email or text. If you have the time and interest, you can start writing in a journal every night. Entries don’t have to be long; they can be short accounts of how your day went!

8.    Write on a lined paper or use templates

Writing nice, even words are a big shortcut to neat handwriting! If you want to write a letter to someone, you can put a piece of notebook paper under printer paper. More than likely, you’ll be able to see the notebook paper lines through the printer paper, and you can use those lines as guidelines for even writing. Or, if you don’t mind the lines, you can write someone a letter directly on notebook paper. This point reminds me of another tip: always use a “padding” piece of paper. No matter what piece of paper you’re writing on, it should always have another piece of paper under it. For some reason, the slightly cushier surface provided by two pieces of paper makes it easier for all pens to write!

I hope that you enjoyed this post, and that it inspires you to ditch the keyboard and write something by hand this weekend!

To learn more on how to improve your handwriting and also to learn some calligraphy handwriting visit our website https://www.oll.co/to get personalized classes to improve your handwriting or fill out the google form below .

https://forms.gle/XJEP4WE2sbP59XnL7

[moonraccoon-exe]

Wishes (Don’t) Come True

I bring you a Gladnis one-shot! \O/

I think I don’t have comments for this, so I’ll just drop the story down below. Please, let me know if you enjoyed the story. Comments and reblogs are super helpful!

And, if you wish, you can buy me a Ko-Fi. Thank you!  (˙︶˙) 

Wishes (Don’t) Come True

Gladiolus Amicitia x Ignis Scientia Warnings: Pessimism, negativity, sad discouraging stuff.

Gladio once made a wish.

He had learned since young about the difference between a dream and a goal, and he had always aimed for goals; a dream was only a fantasy, and if one was not careful it could rub on becoming an utopy. It was great as motivation only, but it was not a goal as itself. A goal was more firm, more tangible, more accessible. A dream was a way of having the head in the clouds and never move, and a goal was to have the feet on the ground and walk by himself; something pretty in the skies versus something he could get by himself through effort and hard-work.

But what was a wish? Was it something in between a dream and a goal? A fantasy that was accessible? Maybe a wish was what made both a dream and a goal work as one; the dream, to keep the spirit alive; the wish, to realize it can be possible, and hence, it can turn into a goal.

With that philosophy Gladio made a first conscious wish.

He had asked for wishes before; when he was a child he would ask wishes to stars and to some flowers, but as he grew older wishes grew less serious. Or, at least, more like a curse than a proper wish. ‘Gods, I wish this could happen’, a lament, not a proper wish. ‘I wish this was true’, a way of speaking, not a proper wish.

So, in some way, that one was his first honest wish that he made with full consciousness of his own philosophy behind a wish.

It was in Altissia where he made his wish.

In Altissia, after what had been the roughest and saddest months of his life after the events of Insomnia’s Fall and the journey, he made his wish.

They still had a couple days before the first secretary would call them for negotiations; hence, a couple days to pretend nothing bad had happened or was going on, and to enjoy Altissia like these were vacations, like they were normal people, only tourists. The perfect chance to relieve stress, to go around having fun, discover places, enjoy of the most beautiful City on the Sea. They had gone through a great part of it, had watched Noctis fish, had tasted the most wonderful wine in the world, and he had even had the chance to enjoy of incredibly romantic dates with his love.

The day that Gladio made his wish, they reached a part of the city where they had not been before. Listro Park, it was called. Ignis had been unable to look away from the landscape before them during the gondola ride, and Gladio had been unable to stop looking at him. Gods, how much he would give to see Ignis like that everyday for the rest of his life, he thought. Ignis had been stressed and sad during many times along the journey, too. Watching him curious, happy, calm, it was a delight. He had almost forgotten how beautiful his eyes gleamed in the morning light when they were happy and peaceful.

When they arrived, the first thing to call the attention was a big metal statue that worked as fountain as well. The four of them stopped to look at it and admire it some moments. Prompto and Noctis got distracted first, and Gladio was dragged to the ice-cream stall by Ignis’ hand. By the time the two headed towards Noctis and Prompto to ask them if they wanted a cone, seeing they were distracted in another stall and were not listening to them, they arrived in time to hear as Prompto landed the question that Noctis had surely been trying to ask for the past minute with no success.

“Eh? What are these?” the young blond asked. Gladio looked at what had called his attention; resting on the shelves on the stall, there were paper birds. His first thought was that they were origami souvenirs.

“Paper birds for wishes” the man of the stall explained. Gladio blinked with curiosity, as did the rest of the group, each their own way. The man, catching these were tourists, smiled and answered the wordless question. “You see that statue? It represents Leviathan, a Six, a goddess. It’s a tradition of this park; you take one of these paper birds, write your wish on it, and you throw it at the statue. If it flies into Leviathan’s mouth, your wish will come true!”

The only one that showed immediate interest, if trying to conceal it, was Noctis. He blinked and his huge blue eyes gleamed with that intense curiosity so characteristic of him. Too shy to act, he waited there until Prompto (the gods bless Prompto) asked him if he wanted to try, giving him an excuse to say ‘Sure, why not’. Noctis wrote his wish, threw the paper bird, celebrated when it landed into the mouth of the statue, and his three friends stayed there to celebrate it as well. Ignis asked the pair of younger friends about the ice-cream, and the subject about the paper birds and wishes stayed behind. Except for Gladio; he too was trying to focus on the ice-cream, but a little stick was poking him in the brain, reminding him about it, insisting, pulling him with a force that was bigger than his will.

It was after some more walking around, after the ice-creams were all in their stomachs, even after they had visited the Arena to participate in the Totomostro and had left with two or so more coins than they first had. They used the same gondola ride to go back from the arena to Listro Park. It was almost like a small epiphany; when he saw Leviathan’s statue again, he had the mighty need to do it. Not every day could one visit Altissia, especially with a war going on, especially being the prince’s Shield.

Noctis and Prompto saw something and ran, but before Ignis could run after them, he felt Gladio was not following and stayed behind with him.

“Gladio?” he called when he turned, and found the Shield going to the other side. Ignis calmly followed him and saw him stop at the stall with the paper birds.

“Excuse me” he heard Gladio call politely. “How much does one of these cost?”

“Oh, no, young man; they’re free.”

“I see. Well, would you still accept a few coins?” before the man offered more than a little breath, Gladio continued. “I think it’s amazing, that you spend here all day to offer the birds for people to make a wish. That’s very kind; please, accept these.”

Ignis, standing with a prudent distance, smiled warmly. This was not uncommon in Gladio, but it never truly stopped reminding Ignis of how kind his boyfriend was as a person. Always noticing people’s hard work, mostly in the ones that went the most unnoticed. It still took a little more of dialogue before the man accepted Gladio’s coins. He offered the Shield to choose any bird that he wanted. Gladio dedicated quite a good while just looking at them and choosing. Ignis laughed very lowly and approached him.

“Gladio, dear?” Ignis called, and saw Gladio take one of the birds. Gladio had a small conversation with the man again about having chosen a bird before Ignis spoke again. “You’re making a wish, too?”

By any answer, Gladio smiled at him as he started walking to a better spot from where he could throw the paper bird. Ignis tried following him, but Gladio kept moving from a spot to the other, licking his finger and using it to test the direction of the wind, and doing other unnecessary measures. It did but earn another happy if low laugh from the adviser.

“Gladio” he insisted.

“Chst, you can’t come close, Iggy, not while I’m writing my wish” Gladio said after he had apparently chosen the perfect spot, looking into a pocket for a pen. As if answering Ignis’ non-formulated question, Gladio added; “It’s not going to come true if someone else knows what I’m wishing for.”

“I didn’t hear that part” Ignis said with a slight raise of an eyebrow, but all that Gladio did was to put a finger up as if both requesting silence from him and telling him ‘right, but that’s my philosophy so you can’t fight it’.

The adviser stood there, smiling, watching his boyfriend scribble something on the paper bird. It was cute, and heartwarming, to watch Gladiolus like that; it was like he was nine years old again, making strange rituals that involved standing in “the correct spot” too. It was Gladio before the weight of his title fell heavy on him; Gladio the child, the innocence itself, Gladio being just a young person enjoying life and doing “silly” things that were much more beautiful than what the eye could meet. Gladio enjoying of the common things he was denied from due to his last name.

After scribbling his wish, Gladio put his pen back in the pocket and he smiled at the bird. It was like he was looking at a very dear friend. Ignis almost felt bad for a second while staring; noticing how much this was meaning to Gladio felt too intimate, and he was invading it. He saw him even kiss the paper bird, focused, like he looked only when kissing Ignis’ cheek or hand. Then, he looked up at the metal Leviathan in front of him, smiling, always smiling. He raised the arm, aimed, moved the wrist forth and back, closed an eye, opened it and closed the other, opened both, continued swinging the hand, and, after the wait that had felt eternal, after Gladio had built tension enough, he pulled the arm back and, when he threw it ahead, he let go of the paper bird.

Ignis watched, attentive, and followed its route. It was short and quick. The paper bird followed an uneven line, up and ahead.

And it entered right through Leviathan’s mouth.

“Yes!” he heard Gladio loudly cheer, and saw him fist pump, turn over himself, dance a little over his heels, and clap once. He looked ecstatic, like after a particularly hard battle. The face of pride and victory themselves. Ignis could not help the huge excitement ever since he first saw the paper bird land so perfectly where it had to, and seeing Gladio celebrate it only made him even more joyful; it was like they had just won something.

“You made it!” Ignis celebrated with him, going closer to him. Gladio went over to him, with a look in the face as if he knew something Ignis didn’t, and, instead of just receiving him in arms, Gladio himself caught him; Ignis gasped slightly in surprise when Gladio half-tackled him, and instead of hugging him by the waist or the neck, he wrapped the arms around Ignis’ hips and pulled him up from the floor. He spun him around gently only two times while Ignis laughed before putting him down.

After a couple more laughters, Gladio did hug him closer and pulled him into a kiss. Ignis did not complain; he gently hugged him by the neck and kissed back, smiling into it. He felt Gladio focus into it, serious, and for some reason it touched in his heart; made him smile a bit more while not interrupting their kissing, and caressed his hair a little. When they broke from the kiss, Ignis kept the forearms on his boyfriend’s shoulders, resting a wrist on top of the other behind Gladio’s neck.

“I will assume I also can’t ask you what you wrote there, can I?” Ignis asked him lowly, with a playful smirk. Gladio smirked back and shook the head with a ‘No, darling’. Ignis’ smile widened a little, still playful. “Give me a clue, at least?”

This time, Gladio took a moment and looked away, eyes going up as if considering it. Ignis waited patiently.

“It’s something that’s going to make me very, very happy” Gladio told him, staring at him with a loving gaze. Ignis’ eyes traveled across his face, analyzing, and he started smiling.

“A selfish wish, then” Ignis teased, caressing Gladio’s hair, smiling playfully at him.

“Oh, the most selfish wish” Gladio nodded, keeping Ignis’ waist hugged and the man pressed to himself. “It’s the only one thing that will make my life complete.”

“Is it?” Ignis asked with a side smile, still in that playful voice, keeping the upper part of the body bent back enough so he could keep a non-awkward eye contact with Gladio. The Shield nodded at his question with a low ‘Uh huh’.

By response, Ignis’ smile grew until it turned into a grin, and it grew again until he chuckled and leaned close to kiss his boyfriend on the mouth. Gladio kissed back, adoring the taste of his lips, and gently swinging Iggy from side to side, subtly.

They still had that night free, as the first secretary did not phone Noctis nor did she send any messenger to come collect them. So Gladio and Ignis, of course, took it to their favor and enjoyed of it as they pleased.

They had dinner on a balcony from where they had a beautiful sight of the distance of Altissia, by candlelight, with wine from Accordo, silly playful conversations, and what Noctis would call a “disgusting lovey-dovey talk”. They walked together, pointed and looked at things, got yet another ice-cream to share, this time in the night of Altissia. They stopped at a precious spot to spend about an hour in silence only looking at the stars; Ignis, particularly, was moved at the sight and did not take the eyes off it for one second. They rode gondolas just for the pleasure of it, holding hands, whispering promises of love; ran and poked each other for the fun of it; laughed and had fun like children, only for the sake of it. They walked together either in silence where the glances spoke better than words, or in delightful conversation.

They danced. They did not have money nor the desire to go into a proper club, whether a modern or a traditional one, but that did not stop them from dancing. It was on the Altissian streets, on a park similar to Listro, except without the fountain to be an obstacle. With distant music from the inside of a restaurant far from them, both bowed to each other, held hands, grabbed a shoulder or a waist, and danced. At first it was the formal waltzing they taught them back in the Citadel; it quickly transformed into a quicker and less formal waltzing. There were laughs here and there; a silent and silly competition to see who danced better. Ignis, smaller than Gladio, had the role of turning fully over his heels every here and there, only to return to the Shield’s arms, feet moving backwards and to the sides, in  perfect synchronicity with those forwards of Gladiolus’.

With laughter from a playful and non-important conversation, there was a last turn, and when Ignis returned to his arms, he leaned closer to hug him properly, the head resting on a shoulder, the hands wrapping around him. Their feet still very shyly moved, until the crazy waltzing turned into an intimate one in a tiny invisible square, where the two stayed hugged, embraced, holding each other dear and close. There were no needed words, and no wanted ones that could break the atmosphere so fully loaded of love and adoration. Finishing with a hand kiss and another pair of bows, both continued their date across the beautiful City on the Sea, until, too late perhaps, they returned to the hotel.

Like it was a wedding night, Gladio picked Ignis in his arms (without previous warning or permission, but gladly without any complaints as well) midstairs and calmly walked like that the rest of the way to the separate room from their companions’, with an incredibly happy and silent Ignis hugged to his neck, nuzzling very subtly at his chin, and smiling. Smiling carefree, lighthearted, in absolute and sincere happiness. Both heavily drunk on the joy of such a beautiful night together, both drunk on love, peace, happiness, all the three real like it had not felt in months.

As he closed the door behind himself, with a smiling Ignis whispering in his ear, Gladio thought, for a moment, that his wish had already come true.

He spent two beautiful, ignorant days believing it.

And then the first secretary summoned them.

Eleven years later, Gladio sat at his desk, unable to focus in anything. He had been so busy in his head and had found himself without the energy or desire to do anything else that he spent the day trying to figure out how to build a paper bird on his own. It was already sunset when he figured it out.

He only looked away from the bird to stare at the sunset.

Goodnight, little brother. See you tomorrow.

While the sun was starting to shyly hide, Gladio heard the noises of a car outside, a small conversation, the routine and so well known and dear sounds he already knew. But, this time, he did not get excited. He would usually joyfully go say hello at the door even before Ignis had opened it, receive him in arms in a tight hug that would make the former adviser both complain and laugh, would wave good day and say thanks to the butler for having brought Ignis from work, would receive him and talk with him. This time, he stayed sat at his desk, the paper bird in a hand.

Ignis arrived to greet him; Gladio welcomed him. Ignis did sense the strange air and asked him if everything was alright; Gladio said yes. They spent a while together, Ignis sat on the bed, relaxing, and so, like usual, Gladio asked him how his day had been and Ignis told him while Gladio received the excess of clothes from Ignis and left them in the closet; shoes, jacket, tie, gloves. Gladio offered very little in response to his own day, and insisted Ignis told him more about his own. At some point, as if planned by the gods or coincidence, Ignis talked about having met someone who did origami as therapy for their anxiety, and how, among the little paper works he had been shown (or handed over so he could feel with the hands), they had a paper bird.

“I remembered about the time you made a wish in Altissia, all those years ago” Ignis told him and stood up from the bed to go closer to Gladio, who stood nearby. All that Gladio could offer was a weak attempt of a sad smile, while Ignis there looked genuinely content, even if with a hint of sadness that had nothing to do with the current situation. Almost by reflex, Gladio gently received him when Ignis softly rested the forearms on his shoulders, looking up at him with a blind and a scarred eye, smiling. “Remember?”

“Yeah…” Gladio replied in a murmur, unsure if Ignis could feel the negative air that had been on Gladio’s shoulders since that morning, and hence why Ignis was trying to subtly find out what it was. Or maybe it was absolutely entire coincidence.

Ignis stayed quiet some moments.

“Did it come true?” he asked lowly and, while he was still smiling softly, there was a hint of caution in what he asked, like he knew it could or not be a fragile thread.

Silence fell on them like water filling a pool. It was some sort of ethereal moment, though not beautiful.

Ignis knew Gladio, and he knew that his “selfish” wish had not been selfish. Gladio had yet not wanted to tell him what he wrote on the bird and, after the events of the past ten years, Ignis had not dared to ask yet, but he had built an idea ever since he first was kissing Gladio right in front of the Leviathan fountain, only a minute after he had thrown the paper bird, all those eleven years ago.

Gladio was a hopeless romantic. Knowing him and trying to think like him, Ignis had imagined some of the options of what Gladio could have wished for.

‘I wish to marry Ignis one day’.

It was very probable, highly probable, with how much of a desperately hopeless romantic Gladiolus was. He had always wished to find his one person, the love of his life, and he had already talked with Ignis about the possibility of marriage ‘one day’, at first jokingly, but Ignis knew how to read among joke and joke to find the seriousness behind it. He did say it was something that would make him very happy, so, knowing how disgustingly romantic he was, it was highly probable he had wished for this.

And they were married. Had married a year ago now. If that had been his wish then, despite everything else, it had come true.

‘I want to stay with Ignis for the rest of my life’.

It was highly probable as well, knowing how well Gladio knew how to use words, and knowing very well that Gladio was very aware that marriage was not equivalent to ‘the rest of their lives’. They could go on without having ever married, but still together. Or they could have even broken up, but still have each other in their lives. And that sounded even more probable from Gladio, with how sincerely he loved; to wish to always keep a bond, even if it was not the way he would prefer.

And they were together. They had spent all this time together, married or not, and Ignis had no intentions to leave anytime.  

‘I want Ignis and I to have a peaceful life’.

And they did. The events of the prophecy were all done, and nothing had gotten in the way. They shared a house; their shared simpler jobs; they had comfort, health, they were a family. They had each other. No need to stress over anything, no more duties. Even their last names had lost the weight that they carried.

So, in a pretty hard way, through a very rough life, with terrible implications, but at least now they had peaceful, quiet lives.

There were a couple more possibilities, but those two were what sounded more Gladio-like, in Ignis’ opinion. Something cheesy and romantic that involved the two of them, he knew from the way Gladio had looked at him after having made his wish, by the way he hugged and kissed him, which absolutely said it was something Ignis-related. Something related to Ignis, that would make Gladio very happy...the man must have requested for marriage or for another form of saying he wanted to be with Ignis all his life and beyond. And it had happened. It was happening.

All that Ignis wanted was for him to say it aloud. He wanted Gladio to notice that, despite the harsh youth they had, his wish had come true.

Except Gladio did not wish for any of those things.

“Did it come true?”, the wish, Ignis meant when he asked. It still echoed in Gladio’s head; he had needed Ignis to ask him only once.

He stayed very quiet, watching him, smiling, but no hint of joy in it. He looked at Ignis and the smile on his face. He looked at Ignis, and saw a twenty two year old smiling at him after he had made his wish. He saw the content smile of a boyfriend while having dinner in an Altissian balcony; saw the laughing face of a young adult who waltzed with him on a public square very late at night; he saw the loving face of a man that whispered blissful ‘I love you’s as they made love slowly.

He saw a bridge and an aircraft; heard Ignis’ terror as he made his way alone through the city in ruins. He saw Ignis barely alive, barely conscious, badly hurt, burnt in the hand, across the arm, on the face. Saw an agonizing Ignis in his arms. Ignis waking up to a scarred eye and lost sight. Ignis waking up to cry on him with a desperation Gladio could not imagine possible in a person, saying something about visions and agonizingly murmuring Noctis’ name over and over, and asking ‘Why? Oh gods, why?’ endlessly.

Ignis crying every night, always for a reason he had not wanted to tell him the first months. Ignis stumbling, falling, walking slowly, insecure, scared, unsure. Ignis with the head always down. Ignis standing a quarrel among the group, having to push senses back into them. Ignis unable to see the sky, unable to see Tenebrae, unable to drive, to cook, barely able to do anything on his own. Ignis trying to hide his terror across Gralea, into Zegnautus. Ignis’ silent desperation when Noctis was lost. Ignis falling down and having the heart breaking so painfully inside him he literally passed out (again for the “visions” and whatever he knew that the rest did not).  

Ignis frustrated trying to re-learn the world, literally blind. Ignis burning himself by accident trying to cook; Ignis almost killing himself trying to re-learn how to fight. Ignis struggling hard, pushing himself past the limits, just to be “useful again”. Ignis having nightmares of all kinds; Ignis having nightmares so constantly that the uncommon thing was that he dreamed. All the nights he woke up screaming, or crying, or sweating, or everything at the same time. Gladio holding him throughout the panic or the tears or both for hours. Ignis crying to him about Altissia; about Insomnia; about Gralea; about Noctis.

Ignis sharing with him the burden of what he knew about what was to come. Ignis’ nightmares lasting ten, eleven years. Ignis blind. Ignis never recovering his sight.

Ignis breaking in pieces when he felt dawn for the first time in a decade. Ignis crying to unconsciousness in front of the throne, and again in front of the altar, and again at the funeral, and again, and again, and again for days and weeks. Ignis holding Noctis’ corpse; his little brother’s corpse. Ignis desperately pleading him to wake up, to come back, to open the eyes, Ignis pleading to the gods to take him instead and bring his little brother back; not letting anyone get close, cursing the gods, screaming his lungs out. Ignis put through the most awful, most terrible of tortures, hugged to the corpse of someone that occupied the core of his heart.

Ignis crying. So frequently, so constantly.

Ignis dying, alive.

The void in his heart. Gladio could see the void in his heart.

Ignis’ smile while he asked Gladio if his wish had come true, his smile while he waited for an answer. He looked content; he was content. But no matter how content or relaxed he could be, no matter how happy he could be, there was and would forever be a void in his heart.

His eyes were blind and misty, but even like that they had a huge gleam of sadness. No matter how joyfully he looked at Gladio, he still had that sparkle of sorrow.

He could see Ignis, so young, in his early thirties, already growing grey hair on the sides of the head. Aging so fast, aging too fast. He looked young and had almost no wrinkles, but something about his face, maybe his aura, it made him look and feel haggard. So wasted, so mistreated, so...exhausted. All the time. His body, more fragile than it used to be, having resisted too much for a lifetime in only thirty two years, and hence quickly weakening. The still frequent nightmares.

And that terrible sparkle of sorrow in his blind eyes that reminded him that he could give the entire world to Ignis, and he would be happy, but never truly, completely happy, because there would always and forever be a void in his heart that nothing and no one could fix or fill.

The only thing he wanted, and he was doomed to a lifetime witnessing how impossible and utopic it was now.

Gladio smiled with sadness, swallowed when he felt the huge knot that formed in his throat while he had been busy in the fleeting thoughts. His eyes, full of tears, looking at Ignis through the blur, and he felt something asphyxiating him. After some seconds of having asked, Ignis was still smiling at him, patiently waiting for Gladio to tell him whether his wish had come true or not.

Gladio smiled back, widely, even though his eyebrows remained furrowed and his eyes stayed full of tears. The former Shield moved a hand up and, tremblingly, a bit unsure, like when he was seventeen and first touched Ignis’ face, or like the day after the Leviathan events, Gladio’s fingers fearfully touched his face, shaking slightly, like Ignis’ skin would shatter at the touch. He laid fingertips on Ignis’ scar of the left eye. Ignis’ smile faded. He waited, quiet.

After staring at and touching the scar, Gladio moved the hand up and used it to caress Ignis’ hair like passing an invisible lock of it behind his ear, and cupped his face with a hand.

Gladio smiled widely at him, and tears rolled down his face.

He saw Ignis’ worried face. That horrible gleam in his eyes that had direct connection with the void in his heart.

He saw the Leviathan statue destroyed after Leviathan’s wrath.

Saw the bunch of papers scattered across the ground.

Found his own among them.

The words were still legible.

He caressed Ignis’ face with a thumb like it was the former adviser who was crying.

He saw his wish once more in that paper bird that he ended up destroying and throwing into the ocean.

Did it come true?

Gladio’s smile widened again and he cupped Ignis’ face with both hands this time. Ignis still gave him that worried but patient look.

And so, Gladio answered after a long pause full of memories.

“No” he whispered. “It didn’t.”

Gladio had kept the wet paper with himself, but he ended up destroying it and throwing it to the ocean when he understood the gods’ sense of humor. When he realized that wishes were just an invention for children. Only a psychological support, not a real thing. When reality smacked him hard on the face, and he realized that wishes were silly, idiotic, a pathetic attempt of trying to keep hopes up, but the real world is different, and it’s not as simple as wishing. That the gods have no heart.

He understood, while breaking the paper bird, that no matter how much heart and sincerity one puts in wishes, they’re useless and a huge lie. He learned that the tales of books were wrong, and that wishes and a strong will are not all that’s needed in life. That wishing changes nothing. Wishing makes nothing better; wishing gets nothing.

He understood that in the best cases, wishes never came true. And that was good enough, as nothing happened. Unlike his case, where instead of nothing happening, the exact opposite to what he wished had happened.

He understood that the only thing wishes are for is to lift the hopes, get the spirit in the skies, and then watch the gods throw them back down, because the higher the hopes are, the harder they will crash into the ground.

Wishes were worse than lies; they were ways to entertain the sadistic, ironic creatures they called Gods. Let them see what you want, and give them permission to give you the entire opposite.

You have to be careful what you wish for, Gladio knew. But he had no idea that his wish would cause this. How would he know? He asked, precisely, for the opposite of all this. With precise words. There was no way to misunderstand or twist his wish. Why did the gods play with it, anyway?

It was unfair.

He had wanted only one thing.

But he learned that wishes don’t come true.

Ignis did not question him. It did take him off-guard that Gladio’s answer had been no. But he did not ask what Gladio’s wish had been; he would later ask, to see if maybe he could do something about it, help him reach it. It was never late to get a wish, and he wanted Gladio to be happy. But he would ask him later.

In those moments, all that Ignis did was to get closer and rested the head on his shoulder, wrapping the arms around him. Gladio hugged him back, buried the face in Ignis’ hair, and let himself cry.

He wanted to ask sorry. He felt that if he had never asked for that wish, Ignis would have never been this miserable in life.

He could not tell Ignis what his wish had been, because then Ignis would probably start lying or pretending and he wouldn’t be honest with himself just for the sake of making Gladiolus happy.

So he kept what he wrote on the paper bird to himself.

His selfish wish.

The only one thing that would make his life complete.

The wish that could not come true, no matter how hard he tried.

“I want Ignis to be happy.”

[theworldaccordingtojess]

Venice, Italy

Venice

I wasn’t in Venice long, just about two and a half days. I went to visit and meet up with a friend I had made in Nice, Shawn. Today we’re in transit to Zagreb where we will spend the next 3 days and after, to his air bnb along the Croatian coast. I’ll probably stay with him there for a few days and then travel onwards, heading back north. On our bus travels, we had a quick 2 hour stop in Ljubljana. We didn’t get to do much but we found a beautiful Christmas market and that city is so charming. I wish I was spending some time there, but perhaps in the future. A beautiful city!

Anyway, we had a great time in Venice. Despite the beginnings of a cold, I saw so much. At every turn you are presented with an incredibly beautiful and picturesque scene. If I took all the pictures I’d like there, I might as well have just walked around with my phone filling everything I saw.

We spent most of our time wandering. San Marco was our first stop, and the only real specifically touristy thing we did in Venice. We walked around the basilica which was just breathtaking. It lent creedance to the joke I made about churches in Italy..that they have so many because they ran out of things to cover with gold on the last. The entire ceiling covered in mosaic tiles, mostly gold, depicting Jesus, the 12 apostles, And various scenes (presumably..) from the Bible. It had a magnificent alter piece made entirely out of gold and completely encrusted with precious jewels. And the alter itself was gorgeous, complexly carved wood. The tiled floor was intricate and colorful, complicated patterns ran the length of the building.

After that, we set ourselves I getting lost. Very easy in Venice, two turns later and we had no idea where we were. There are so many dead ends and paths to nowhere, I’m not sure I could ever find the same place twice, even if I tried. We saw a lot of stores that sold exclusively feather pens, fountain pens, and wax letter sealing kits for letter writing. I’ve never seen a single shop like that before, much less multiple on one street!

After we felt we had seen quite a lot of the main island, we decided we might as well check out some of the others. We saw one that looked like a park, it was just a wall enclosing tons of trees. Turns out it was a giant cemetery, an entire island! For a cemetery! It was beautiful, resting places with a view, I suppose. I guess I got mom’s love for visiting cemeteries. We walked around there for quite some time then hopped to our next island, which happened to be Mureno.

As we got off the boat, we followed a group of people who seemed to know exactly where they were going and happened upon the mureno glass company fabrication location! We stumbled into a live demonstration and saw the glass blower make a horse and a flower vase like it was nothing. So amazing! I think I’d like to learn how to blow glass.

After our luck, we decided to wander the island to see what we could find. Which happened to be an abandoned portion of the island?? We walked on and on, yet saw no people. It was eerie and very cool to be somewhere you know there are thousands of people but not have a soul in sight. We found a spot to sit and watch as the water taxies passed by. Later, we stumbled upon the little downtown area of the island where neither of us were brave enough to touch anything because EVERYTHING IS ARTISAN, HANDMADE FANCY GLASS.

We hopped onto another boat and took it to a residential part of the main island where we (thanking our lucky stars) stumbled upon a Christmas carnival. All the local kids were riding bumper cars and playing games—our favorite was a game where the aim was to break plates with potatoes. And so we walked until we were hungry and went back to our hostel. A busy, busy day!

Three things I want to focus on though. 1. The improbability of Venice 2. Our openness while traveling vs our everyday lives and 3. HOW COOL IS IT TO HAVE YOUR MAIN FORM OR TRANSPORTATION TO BE BOATS???

1. Why did ANYONE look at the islands that make up Venice and decide people should live there? I swear on my life there is more water there than land. VENICE IS SINKING, WATER LEVELS ARE RISING. Is anyone surprised the city is in jeopardy? Honestly, the city never should have been built in the first place, humans are too damn stubborn for our own good. Beautiful city though. Can’t wait for future humans to be able to scuba the lost city of Venice. Will be rad.

2. I’ve found myself having more wild experiences, fun times, meeting more interesting people while traveling. I’ve come to a conclusion, which is that it has nothing to do with the place and everything to do with me. I am more open and flexible and friendly while traveling. I almost seek this stuff out. At the very least, I’m open to it happening. In our daily lives, we are so stuck in routine and busy that we don’t allow ourselves the joy of getting off course or opening up to the unexpected. I think that’s a hinderance to our joy, and I’m going to work to integrate a more open mentality once I return to a more normal life. I also encourage everyone to maybe think on this point, maybe there’s a change like this you can make in your life that may really enhance it!

3. If you know me, you know I don’t have sea legs. None. No sea legs whatsoever. If you are like me, let me tell you, the main canal in Venice WILL make you seasick and standing at the boat stop platforms. Forget about it, illness awaits.

That said, HAVING BOATS AS YOUR CAR IS RAD AS HELL. Can you imagine taking a boat ride as your casual daily commute? Can you imagine waking up at 6am and having to balance yourself on a boat? Can you imagine begging the person who’s job it is to dock the boat at each stop so people can get on and off? TEXTING WHILE BOATING? (Which I saw one of my boat drivers do) IS A THING?? Too cool. Boats are cool, and commuting on boats is really cool.

Happy holidays everyone!!

Xoxo,

Jess

[lizardtracks]

Pencils, Part 1: The Past

There are pen people and pencil people. By pen and pencil I mean what you carry as your everyday writing instrument. Most people are pen people. I get that. Pencils only means tests, or forced adjournments to the Group W bench. They are nothing remarkable. We don't have the word pencilmanship. If we did it would sound a little clumsy. Maybe it could be pencmanship. But I digress. It is penmanship. Today that just means your handwriting is legible. But once upon a time it must have been a deeper skill. I once owned a fountain pen. Owned as in purchased, not owned as in mastered. I never could master it. Controlling that angle, controlling that nib, controlling that flow, it was tough. And mine had a snorkel. I could not imagine using the dippy ones. And those must have been easy compared to the quill. You had to cut and trim the quill. All in all, penmanship must have been as hard to master as Oriental calligraphy. I mean even today we refer to certain knives as pen knives. Yet no ordinary person has cut a quill in 150 years. Penmanship must have really meant something and the lesson has died hard.

What I am trying to say is that pens came into the modern world with a certain cachet. They seem to have flowed out of the world of bankers and lawyers and people with the leisure to write letters home from their African safari. Pencils seem like they came from the world of a bookie or a tallyman. Even in school, you printed with a pencil. But they taught you writing with a pen. Now you were somebody.

So yes, there is the built-in cachet. And the illusion of permanence. (Ink can be permanent, sure. But is the paper?) Permanence, of course means trust and dependability. Nobody will let you sign a legal document with a pencil. How can you trust a pencil mark?

So why do I carry a pencil? First, I don't write, I print. They taught me penmanship in school. But I had no sooner learned that when they broke it down in technical school to teach me the disciplined upper case Gothic lettering of the engineering drawing. YOUR LETTERING HAD TO LOOK LIKE THIS. I never re-learned handwriting. Also, I have never had a pencil leak in my pocket or sling bag. Then, if someone needs me to sign a legal document they have a pen. Finally, I have never used a pen that I really liked.

The Bic pen was a joke. What were you saying about yourself by using a disposable pen? It seemed like the domain of a bookie or a tallyman. You can trace the breakdown of modern society directly to its wide adoption. Ohto tried to up the game with the rollerball, but no dice. You traded oil for water and created a different problem. The fiber tip pen either starts off too firm and thin, or wears down too wide and mushy. Paper Mate called it Flair, but they meant Flare. Most folks who have made serious forays into pens have tried fountain pens. But the Mont Blancs are hidden away in oak desk drawers; The Parkers are drying out beside grandma's yellowing checkbook; and the Pilots are being chunked in the garbage every time their leakage spoils some bullet journalist's hemp messenger bag. No variation of the fountain pen was ever worth its inconvenience or the need for real penmanship.

Pilot came closest to the best everyday writing instrument with the G-2 gel rollerball. The barrel was the right size. It had a nice weight and balance. It didn't drip, dribble, or skip. It felt good on most paper. You could use thin paper, or non-coated paper, without bled-through. I almost liked it.

But at the end of it all, a pen suggests that I should write. And my handwriting makes me want to use the pen to poke my eyes out. So, around the same time I was finishing my third G-2 I started noticing that my mechanical pencils were languishing in a drawer. I pulled out my trusty Pentel P209, dropped it into my messenger bag and that was that.

Is this going somewhere? Bear with me. The .9 millimeter was not good for printing. So I did what every other pencil jotter does: I bought a 2-pack of Zebra M-301's. Then years passed and I found myself doing more than jotting. It became notes at production meetings, notes at department meetings, notes at kick-off meetings. I had to write notes on drawings I was checking. I started writing stuff in, well, a journal. The Zebra began feeling a little skimpy. So, knowing that the Pentel P209 was a bit thick, I bought some P207's. Honestly, it never occurred to me to look for anything else. That is until the day a coworker dropped two pencils off for me to look at. I had wanted to keep some of my P207s easily seen on my messy desk. So I splurged for metallic colors. He must have noticed that and thought I was a pencil nerd. So he handed me two to try: a Zebra Tect 2-way, and a Uni Kuru Toga. Then my cubicle neighbor heard us talking and whipped out her Pentel Graph Gear 1000. Suddenly I coveted. I had no idea these things existed. And so began a hard target search for upscale pencils. I might still look like a bookie. But I would be a damned classy bookie.

Stay tuned for Part 2: The Quest.

(For a Wired love story about stick pens: click here)

[tlswrites]

Here we go, 2020!

2019 .. like any other year, was riddled with both good and bad experiences. So I guess it would be nice to go through it one at a time or we'll see what I can write...

• January - I can't really remember anything significant for this month. All I remember is trauma for some reason because this month made an impact to me in the worst possible way. There was so much going on transitioning to February that it felt like this month could've been better if work can be "normal" but that was never the case for 2019.

• February - Shtty as fvck. I said a couple of goodbyes to good people. It started in January but February was just unbearable. The start of 2019 wasn't the best, huh? Funny though how I still managed to eff it all up in the latter part of the year.

• March - BUSY. I did get to travel to Davao this month. And I did spend a couple of weeks with new people. I enjoyed that part the best. The new faces and friends I made in 2019 are for keeps. They're genuinely kind-hearted and just overall nice. I also picked up a new hobby this month.

• April - And the hobby officially started with the purchase of my first ever fountain pen. Thanks to a certain someone for introducing that world to me but I wouldn't go into detail with this one because I don't want to discuss the bs that transpired with this hobby 😅

• May is a blur. Nothing special happened, I guess? Just bagged a few more FPs. And I guess I knew at this point that work was becoming more and more insufferable. More good people wasted by the effed up bureaucracy. Although we did receive a new family member in a form of a puppy who we lovingly call Minnie. She's huge, by the way. Very. Not in any way synonymous to her name. I also travelled to Cebu for the first time ever.

• June - I think I went to Laoag for the first time, too... It was also the beginning of my public speaking engagements for our office. Which is both a blessing and a curse, I guess. I don't really know which one I'm more inclined to. Did one life changing activity which almost killed me lol - we rode an extreme 4x4 ride in the Paoay Sand Dunes. I went to Cebu for the second time and this extended until July.

• July - Travelled a lot. Both for work and leisure. This was my second time in Ilocos (travelled solo for this trip). Actually, I went to two provinces this month but both were for work: Dagupan and Cabanatuan. I bonded with good people. And I turned 23, too. However, it was the start of the worst for me. Ever. Although I did experience whale shark watching and snorkeling. Both good things. And both my first. I guess it is worth to note that I got promoted this month as well.

• August - Went to Boracay. Enjoyed it, I guess? Helmet diving was the third most extreme thing I did for the year. But this month was also when I realized how sad and lost I am. I was supposed to be working on my Master's degree but that did not pan out because as usual, the motherfvckr work I have is just... it consumed me in the worst possible way ever. I gave in to my demons and I guess I just relapsed on myself. I also travelled once for work: Nueva Ecija.

• September - I got to go to Puerto Princesa, Palawan. It was fun especially since we got to visit the PP Underground River, which was an extreme experience for me as well because I am claustrophobic. Also, the overall experience would've been better if I was there for travel and not to work, you know? Plus, I went to Pampanga for work, too. Got very sick which continued on until the next month. Still felt dead inside. I was cruisin' through my days like a robot. Constantly tired of myself and the people around me. What a happy year.

• October - Sht got real. Went to Bataan for work again. Attended a couple of technical trainings, as required. And was rushed to the ER for the first time in my life - mostly because I neglected the pain I felt and just kept everything to myself. Also proved how high my pain tolerance is, despite what my Mom says (that I'm weak to physical pain). Start of the busiest months for the office. Anyways, I got my passport this month. And 4/5 of the fam got to visit Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia (my first international travel).

• November - More trainings! Stressful af. All I can remember is how tired I was for the entire year. I needed to continue my maintenance meds. It actually started in October but I made sure I did take it everyday again. Overall, I was just really on autopilot mode for the 4th quarter of the year. So much has happened with me and the people around me that it literally felt like I was drowning everyday - as soon as I wake up, I just felt horrible every single damn time. Scared myself to bits with my own thoughts so it did help that I was extremely busy with work or I might have done something that would hurt a lot of people.

• December - An attempt to make 2019 better even if it's the last month. I started using my CPAP machine again. Thoroughly enjoyed our stay at Las Casas Filipinas de Acuzar in Bataan. We had a Gala/Awards Night for our Year-end activity. Got to wear a gown for that. This month was, by far, the BUSIEST I've ever been. I was never at my desk because I was always assigned to go somewhere outside the office for work. Glad I had more offsets that anybody can ever use because I got to enjoy my Holidays earlier. I also visited a previous employer who I love to bits. And finally, I got to visit Bohol (and Cebu for the third time haha) - which is the first time the family celebrated a new year while travelling (only 4/5 of the fam got to join).

Since I kinda just glossed over the moments I had, let me discuss a few and perhaps do a listicle while I'm at it.

Most extreme things I did:

1. Rode a 4x4 in extreme mode. Almost died because I was not able to hold on tightly but I'm glad it was when we were already by the end of the ride.

2. Whale Shark Watching in Oslob. I don't really know how to swim. Well, I kinda do. But it was scary to swim in an actual sea. I also did snorkeling for the first time and it was fun as hell.

3. Helmet Diving in Boracay. We were submerged at 30ft underwater. Again, I'm not really confident with my swimming skills. I almost did not do it but I'm glad I did because I got to overcome a bit of one of my greatest fears- drowning.

4. Puerto Princesa Underground River Tour. Most magical experience ever but was also hella scary because of how low some parts of the cave can go and how dark it was. Still happy I got through it though.

Places I've travelled to for the first time ever:

1. Davao City

2. Province of Cebu (Cebu, Mandaue, Mactan, Lapu-Lapu, Oslob, Cordova, Carmen, Danao)

3. Ilocos Norte (Laoag, Paoay)

4. Puerto Princesa, Palawan

5. Boracay

6. Las Casas Fipinas de Acuzar in Bagac, Bataan

7. Bohol

8. Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

There are quite a few things I wish I could've done differently but I'm still very glad I survived 2019. It may be the worst year for me but I'm learning to appreciate the learnings that came along every struggle. I believe there's still good in this world. And that I can become whole again.

Despite everything, I am hopeful that 2020 is when I get to make MYSELF proud of WHO I AM. I am hopeful that 2020 is when I relearn how to LOVE MYSELF unconditionally, with all my flaws and insecurities. I am hopeful I can be WHO I WANT TO BE in spite of anything that will come my way. I just want to be better overall. Healthier, too. And happier, of course.

But this time, I want to do things differently, slowly, but more passionately. I will no longer force myself into being nice to certain people when all they ever do is use me for their own benefit. I wil no longer make myself available to everyone who says they need me. Because not all them actually NEEDS me. They just want me for a brief moment, as an alternate, an option for when their closest friend/s are unavailable.

2020 is when I DETOX. It is when I get a second chance at the life I wanted to pursue. I will no longer impose impossible standards for myself and for other people. I just want to LOVE. And I want to actually try LOVE.

I know I'm setting up an ideal life for 2020 and I am aware of the consequences of false positivity. But I am HOPEFUL and I'm finally seeing the significance of FAITH in one's life. There is still a chance for growth and prosperity on my part. I just have to try.

Cheers for 2020!

tlswrites

12.31.19

[treblestudies]

Back to School Advice

Since we are in full swing of the back-to-school season, I thought I would write out some advice for going back to school. This is mostly aimed at upperclassmen in high school because those are the years I remember most clearly, but it will probably help for other grades as well! 

Before I get started, I'd like to point out that I'm an incoming college freshman, so I can't really give university advice (yet). However, I was extremely successful in high school and finished with a 4.0 GPA on a 4.0 scale (AP/IB/Honors Classes were not offered at my school) so I think I’m slightly qualified to help high school students. 

ORGANIZATION

Get yourself a planner. I personally think that this is the most important part of going back to school (and for everyday life in general). It can be anything, really, as long as it’s a system that works for you. I really like the Recollections planner from Michael’s. It’s basically a knockoff Erin Condren, and it’s a lot less expensive. I also really enjoy bullet journaling, but I plan on making a more specific post about this later. There are spiral bound planners, such as the Lilly Pulitzer agendas; ring bound planners, such as Kikki.K or Filofax; hardbound planners like Moleskine; and the options are endless. I recommend trying out a few different styles of planners throughout your high school career in order to know what works best for you by the time you head off for college.

Deep clean your bedroom. This might sound a bit odd, but I find that it is a lot easier to be successful during the school year when I have a clean and organized living space. When I say deep clean, I truly mean deep clean. Take everything out of your closet, dresser, bookshelf, everywhere. Place it all on your floor and pick up every single item in your hands. Ask yourself, “Does this item spark joy?” (This is commonly known as the KonMari method). If the answer isn’t yes, get rid of it. You can sell, donate, or just throw it away (or recycle, if possible). Once you’ve gone through all of your belongings, give everything a home. This way you will know exactly where it should return to the next time you use it.

While you’re at it, deep clean your desk. Do this the same way as your bedroom. Keep only what you need.

Develop a cleaning/organizing routine. This can involve anything you’d like. I like to go through all of my school work and notes at the end of each week, and all of my sheet music at the end of each semester. I have a very short, five-minute cleaning routine for my bedroom that I do each day before bed, as well as a slightly longer twenty minute routine once a week.

SCHOOL SUPPLIES 

(Most of these links lead to Target. I personally shop at Staples a lot more than I do Target, but I feel like everyone else prefers Target, so that’s why I linked to there.)

A notebook and folder or a binder for each class. Decide which system works best for you. I prefer notebooks and folders because they work better for the types of classes I take. Make sure they are sturdy enough to last for the entire semester (if not longer). I’ve also seen people use expanding file folders instead of folders, notebooks, and binders, but I’ve personally never tried that for schoolwork. However, I do use an expanding file folder to organize all of my sheet music.

Loose-leaf/filler paper. I feel like this one goes without explanation. I really like the reinforced filler paper from Mead Five Star, but it’s pretty expensive. Target’s brand Up & Up has a very similar version that is just as good for a lot less money. I prefer college ruled paper, but they also have wide and graph ruled.

Pencils, both mechanical and old fashioned. I much prefer the way mechanical pencils write, but I’ve been told that some scantron machines don’t detect their lead, so I like to stay on the safe side by having a couple old fashioned No. 2 pencils. My favorites are the Paper Mate Clearpoint 0.7mm Mechanical Pencils and the Ticonderoga No. 2 Pre-Sharpened Pencils (I prefer the black ones because I think they have better erasers, but I couldn’t find them on the Target website).

Pens, pens, pens! I absolutely LOVE pens! I almost always write with a pen (except on sheet music, for obvious reasons), and I would consider myself a pen enthusiast. I usually write with my Lamy Safari (I actually have the limited edition Neon Coral pen, so I linked another color) or my Kaweco Sport fountain pens, but I realize that those aren’t quite as accessible for everyone as a gel or ballpoint pen. As far as “normal” pens go, I really enjoy the Pilot G2, Pilot Juice, Pilot Frixon, Papermate Inkjoy, and Papermate Flare pens. I could go on and on about pens, so if you have any questions just send me a message!

Erasers. My favorites are the Pentel Hi-Polymer erasers, both in cap and brick form. I find that these erasers don’t smudge or rip the paper like others do.

Pencil sharpener. I don’t have a favorite kind; I just buy whatever one is on sale. 

Stapler and staples. I like the Swingline Tot Mini Stapler. It comes in a lot of different colors, and there are 1,000 staples included in the box. I also like that it is miniature, so it fits nicely in my pencil case.

Pencil case. I use the LIHIT LAB Pen Case. You don’t necessarily need one as big as this, but I carry a lot of things to class with me. I know that another popular choice is to use a makeup bag. I did that my sophomore year of high school and found that it worked decently well, but sometimes it was difficult to quickly find what I was looking for. 

Scissors. Really any kind will do, but I like the children’s sized scissors because they will fit in my pencil case.

Highlighters. I was never big into highlighters. I use them a lot, but I don’t have a favorite brand. I usually buy the Sharpie Accent Highlighters, but I just ordered the Zebra Mildliner 5 Color Set from Amazon. These are a fan favorite within the studyblr community, and I’ve been interested in them for quite awhile.

There are other school supplies that you may need depending on what classes you take, but I think I covered the basics. As a music major, I also need manuscript notebooks so you can tailor this list to your liking.

SELF-CARE

Get some sleep. This one is extremely important. As someone who suffers from insomnia, I know how hard this can be, but try to form a regular sleep schedule. Please realize that it is more important to get some sleep than it is to stay up studying into the wee hours of the night (or more correctly: morning). It is very difficult to stay focused on your schoolwork when you are sleep deprived.

Eat breakfast. Yes, I know, I’m going to be cheesy and say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I always feel so much better when I have something to eat in the morning. It helps me focus throughout the day, and it gives me plenty of energy. I like to have toast with peanut butter, as well as an egg or two, but I understand that it can be difficult to prefer yourself a meal in the morning. It is better to eat just a little (such as a granola bar or an apple) rather than nothing at all.

Surround yourself with positive people. I recently did a cleanse of my Facebook Friends. If there’s anybody that is constantly posting negative content, I would recommend deleting them on any and all social media. I know it’s hard to do if they are a close friend or family member, but it will be better for your own well-being in the long run. 

Set aside time for yourself. It can be as little as fifteen minutes or as long as five hours. It doesn’t really matter, as long as you have a specific amount of time set aside for “me time” every single day. You can do whatever you want. Read a book, listen to music, watch a movie. Just do something that you enjoy.

Drink plenty of water. I don’t think I need to write about why this is important. It helps to keep you healthy, your skin clear, your body awake, etc. 

Another aspect of self-care is taking care of your mental illnesses - if you have any. I personally struggle with severe generalized anxiety disorder, so if you’d like a post about how to cope just hit me up.

AFTER-SCHOOL ACTIVITIES

Join a club, organization, or sport! I know that academics may be your main focus right now, but I find that it’s a lot easier to find a good group of friends when you all share a common interest. For example, if you really like music you could join marching band, an a cappella group, or a music appreciation club. (My high school actually didn’t have a large array of clubs and organizations, but I know that most large schools do). If there isn’t a group for what you are interested in, you can often mention it to your school board and start one yourself!

Join a study group. I like study groups because you (usually) aren’t required to attend every single session. That way if you’re too busy you don’t have to feel bad. They are very helpful when it comes to specific subjects/topics, and it’s useful to have a group of people you can turn to whenever you have any questions.

Don’t overload your schedule. While it is important to get involved, I also think it is important to not overwhelm yourself. If you are in eight classes, two sports, three clubs, and two student organizations (okay I know that’s overkill and an exaggeration, but you get what I mean) your schedule will be way too crowded and it will lead to stress. Please don’t do that to yourself. Only participate in the extra groups that you enjoy.

Try something new. If you have time, it can be really fun to try something new that you think you might enjoy. This doesn’t necessarily have to be school related (I wasn’t quite sure what category to put this in). It can be something as simple as learning how to knit, taking a Zumba class at your local gym, or setting a goal to try as many new foods as you can. Try whatever you’d like! I’m currently learning how to speak German, so maybe you can try something like that. (If you are thinking about learning a language, I highly recommend using the website version of Duolingo. The app is good as well, but the website has a lot of helpful information that isn’t included on the app.)

Alright, I think this is all that I have for you today! If you have any questions about this post, or if I didn’t cover something you’d like help with, just send me an ask or a private message and I will be glad to assist you!

- Erin