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limenysnocket · 3 years

Text

Attention and Company

I couldn't help myself. @honorarytenenbaum

Summary: Sometimes you need someone to chill with, and that's okay. Maybe that person is your boyfriend who also gets a little roughed up at work sometimes. Pubs can sustain you both for only so long, but what you really need is to curb yourselves in the mall parking lot, right next to a shaved ice food truck.

Warnings: Just some light swearing, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and some brief mentions to "raunchy" behavior. This is a soft fic for y'all tonight, out here needin' some gentle lovin'.

A/N: Got some lonely feelings right now. I just wanna hug someone, dude. Yo, we could totally watch a movie over discord sometime... maybe.

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Today sucked. Flat out. The bags under your eyes didn't lie, and now here you were, outside of your studio, sitting on the hood of your car, eating a granola bar to stave off hunger for a few more hours. Hopefully.

You pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the time for a moment, then looking at your screensaver. It was the only thing that could make you smile. You had your arm wrapped around one of your closets friends, Taika, and the phone didn't capture it, but he had his arm wrapped around your waist. His curls were all messed up, and the picture perfectly showed how drunk you both were by the fuzzy pink on your cheeks. It was 99 cent beer night at one of the local pubs, and unlike the first one held at a baseball game, all went well.

Of course, there was a limit to how much the two of you were allowed to drink, but that didn't stop the many failed attempts at stealing other people's drinks while they were looking away, just to get a taste more. Didn't matter that you guys were eventually thrown out of the bar for breaking rules and coming close to breaking a few faces, you had a great night.

That night also lead to a few other places, including his hotel room, but that end of the story has to be saved for another time.

Instead of staring at your phone for another century, you decide to unlock it and dial the man up. You knew he was somewhere around here, either charming his way onto another movie set to mess with his rich friends, or getting his tired ass kicked by daylight savings.

His number was saved to your favorites, so dialing him was quick and easy. The wait for him to pick up didn't last long either.

"Talk to me..."

God, his voice sounds like one big yawn. Looks like he needs a bit of perking up too.

"I've got two curbside tickets to eat a snow cone and watch kids do loops on their bikes in the parking lot. One of those tickets has your name on them," you grin, despite sounding exhausted too. The day really made you strain your voice.

His musical laughter really makes the sun look brighter from its low position in the sky.

"That's oddly specific... where would these magical tickets take me afterwards?" He had cocked his eyebrows up and leaned against his office door while he spoke to you.

"If this were a booty call, I would have told you already, Taik," you snort and tease him. "So, it's either make yourself fat on some weirdly flavored snow cone, or take your horny-ass home."

"Okay, okay... I'd like to make myself fat for a night, as long as your there," his voice is dreamy, desperate and warm. "You there already?"

"Nope," your lips pop the p, "but I'm nearby."

"I swear to God, if you're talking and driving, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Taika stood up, acting serious when he was just really worried about your safety in general.

"I'm not, I'm fine," you laugh again. "Not even in the car. Sitting on it though, trying to convince the world's sexiest man to go out with me again."

"And you said this wasn't a booty call," he retorts over the phone, making you playfully glare at the asphalt on the road. It's like he's in front of you.

"You coming or not?" you change the subject and you hear him laugh again, but softer.

"Yeah... I'll be there in a few minutes, gorgeous."

He always made goodbyes so easy. Maybe it was because you both knew you would be seeing each other again, no matter what circumstances you were thrown into. But the dial tone still had its effects.

You slip off the hood of your car, and take a seat in the driver's seat. The warm summer air makes your skin glow, and your brain went fuzzy only imagining it doing the same to Taika.

The drive feels so quiet. For a moment, you actually thought about calling him again, but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't pick up if he was driving.

As predicted, kids are zooming around on their bikes, showing off to their friends or trying to be cool, even though they all were obviously teary-eyed each time they scraped a knee. It was amusing to you and Taika, especially when some of the older boys would try to catch your attention and zip past you and Taika. It ended up being a heckle fest in the end, and some kid always went home with his butt hurt.

Keys and wallet in hand, you trek to the small, blue trailer tucked in the corner of the parking lot.

"Damn, you must have beat me here by just a few seconds," Taika calls, rustling his way through the small spaces between a couple of cars.

"Well, you've never been a speed demon type, so last place is your calling when it comes to racing," you guwaf and grin at him. He rolls his eyes and comes to walk right next to you.

"I pride myself on road safety," he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You glance at him from the side, just to silently check up on him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were resteless. It looks like he had it rough from the start. He had struggled to get dressed this morning, but picked the most eccentric clothes in his closet to make up from his lack of sleep.

"Dare you to try the dill pickle flavor this time," his cocky tone wakes you up.

"Like hell I will," you snort as you finally reach the trailer, where a teen boy happily greets the both of you.

"Oh come on, it'll be funny," he eggs you on, his bottom lip pouting.

"Keep trying to make me get dill pickle, and the next time we have a movie night together, I'm getting the pizza," you sniff and he rolls his eyes. He thinks it is an odd threat. "And I'm making it all Hawaiian pizza." That got his attention.

"Bull shit, you would never. Not on a perfectly good pizza!" He gasps.

"Oh, just watch me, pineapple boy," you snicker and point to his pineapple print shorts. You break conversation to order two piña colada flavored snow cones. Taika usually took for-fucking-ever when it came to picking a single flavor, so ever since the second time you've been out here with him, he assigned you to choose for him. He usually got what you got.

Now, you wait.

You plop yourself down on the curb, as you promised, and he joined you with a long, loud groan. You give him a bewildered stare, wondering if his age had really gotten him this much. He smiles at you through a wince.

"Sat on my keys," he wheezes and chuckles at his own stupidity under his breath.

Your eyes float down to where he pulls out his keys and you start giggling quietly.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done the same thing," Taika says, not handling the fact that you have new material to mess with him, and also trying to get some stories out of you.

"Well yeah, but I don't sit down as violently as you do," you prod his bicep, and he laughs.

"Such a lady. Must sit down gracefully and slowly," he says, mocking an English accent, but he was horrible at accents so of course it was bad. You smack his bicep this time, and he playfully flinches, like it hurt.

"I really need to get you into some accent classes or some shit, before you get your teeth knocked out," you shake your head with a smile.

"What? I think I'm great at accents. My American accent is the best one yet, don't you think?" He smirks at you, and proceeds to demonstrate. "All you have to do is put an 'er' at the end of everything, right? That's totally how they speak around here."

"I would be careful, Mr. Waititi. Could get in some trouble if you say that too loudly," you roll your eyes, and he sighs. Yeah. Things were going to shit in LA. It was clear to everyone, but what could two hollywood producers do to stop things like that? Keep making films, you guess.

"Two, large piña coladas!"

You look up, and so does he.

"I'll get them," you volunteer, but he places his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.

"Let me," he speaks softly, in a damn near whisper.

He stands up and strides right over to the trailer with so much confidence, you're envious. He comes back with two large styrofoam cups in hand, spoons, and a warm smile. His smile was always warm. It set fire in your belly.

He sits down a bit more carefully this time, even though his car keys were sitting in the grass, far away from his landing zone. He hands you your cup and a spoon.

"Do these have alcohol in them?" He nudges you with your elbow and you shake your head.

"As if they would let a seventeen-year-old serve alcoholic beverages," you throw in logic.

"I dunno... ever been to a ballpark before? Pretty sure some of those kids are way too young to be peddling there too, but that doesn't stop people from hiring them," he says while pointing his spoon at you.

"Fair point," you finish, then look at your snow cone. You decide to start eating before it melts.

Silence swarms the air, but comfortably. There's the occasional murmur of cicadas or humming cars drowning them out. Birds would land on the scorching asphalt to pick at whatever crumbs were left by other patrons, before fluttering away at the sight of a zooming bike getting too close for comfort.

Taika will point out a few of the kids doing tricks. He picks his favorites for the night, and he keeps himself busy by watching them. You, on the other hand, are occupied with him. You examine him from the tips of his dirty white chucks, to his frazzled hairdo.

"You look like shit," you mutter. He barely pays you mind and that comment was hardly acknowledged. It was like the air had gone a bit stiffer. He was hiding something from you.

"What's going on, Taik?" you worry. He never kept things from you, unless they were hard to bear.

He sets his cup down and holds his hands together. He looks so tired. So solemn.

"Today was total shit," he whispers and runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, yeah, I get that. I wouldn't have known if you had looked a little spiffier," you say, reaching out and gently tucking a curl on his forehead back in place with all the rest of its friends.

"Look, I--..." he says, turning to you, lips parted slightly, and a yearning sensation bubbling from the tips of his fingers as he rests a single hand on you.

There were tough times with the occupancy you both, willingly, chose. The hardest part about it was making friends, or making love, then finding out you have to leave it behind for a new location the next morning.

"I have to leave... for Sydney..." he says, reaching to gently take your cheek into the palm of his hand.

"When?" you manage, though you were clearly becoming upset.

"In a few weeks. Thor is waiting for me," he sighs, barely able to look at you while his thumb rubbed your ample cheek.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I don't want to leave you," he says, tilting your head up just the slightest bit. "And I don't want to stop loving you."

Your eyes search his for a moment, wide and a bit confused.

"I thought you said we were just a fling with--"

He cuts you off, "A fling with benefits. I know..." he sighs again, "but every time I find myself waiting for you to call on a shitty day, each time you rest your head on my shoulder, all the times you smile at me and tease me, I find myself falling... more in love with you." He has to pause to breathe.

It's so quiet. Dangerously quiet.

"What happens if I love you too...?" you muster your courage, and look right into his expressive, brown eyes.

"I don't know," he says to you, thumb still rubbing circles.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" you breathe, and he nods.

Still as statues, you wait for words to touch the air. It's only when his foot makes a wrong move and knocks over his snow cone, does the tension break.

His bottom lip pouts for him again and you quietly pick his spoon up off the ground. You clean it on your shirt and hand it to him, all before taking your cup, and holding it out to share. He smiles down at you, taking his spoon from your hand and sticking it into the shaved ice.

Your head leans against his shoulder when the sun disappears behind the mall building.

"I love you too," you whisper.

"I know," he says back, sucking at the tip of his spoon.

"Think we can keep this up over the phone?" you ask, wondering about a brief virtual relationship, just until one of you catches a break.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" he says, lowering his spoon, wrapping his arm around you, and giving you his full attention.

#taika waititi #taika waititi x reader #fanfiction #taika waititi imagine #taika waititi imagines #taika waititi x you #taika waititi/you #fluffy

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knjnvrland · 4 years

Text

Prank Wars - ch. 1

> pairing | jungkook x reader

> word count | 2.9k

> genre | college!au, fluff, smut

> warnings | just some good old swearing for now

> synopsis | College can be a stressful time in anyone's life as it is, why don't we throw a little prank war in the mix to make it harder?

> fic masterlist

> A/N | Hey everyone! This is the first fic I'm posting on this Tumblr, please be kind with your words but make sure to let me know what you think! This is a multi chapter fic I'm cross posting at ao3, search me there as 'restlessxsleeper'. English is not my first language, I'm sorry for the eventual spelling mistake, please let me know if you find any! I'll add trigger warnings at the beginning of every part, because even though we start funny and soft it takes a turn at some point, so please be sure to read those at the beginning of each chapter.

Chapter 1 - New Beginnings

If you ever encountered another box in your lifetime you would be capable of murder, you thought to yourself, unloading the last of your belongings onto the bed.

“All good here, y/n?” Your brother checked from the door, peeking his head inside your room.

“Yeah Joonie, I’m all set” you still had a lot of unpacking and organizing to do, but for now you could set your brother free.

“Okay good, I still have to pick up Jin hyung from the train station so I’ll get going, call me later?” He was already halfway to the door and you knew.

“Yeah yeah, just go” you waved him off without looking back.

You heard the door closing behind him and then there was one. You knew your brothers were all just a few minutes away now, much closer then they used to be, but it felt weird knowing that this place you were standing in is now your entire home. The dorms weren’t nearly as bad as Jin and Tae made them out to be. You had to share a room, yes, something different that you never had to do before - being the only girl amongst your siblings you always had the privilege of having a room to yourself. But the dorm also had a small living room and something close to a kitchen. And the bathroom was clean, although you doubted a normal sized human-being could fit in that bathtub.

Your roommate’s side was already decorated. She had pink floral bedsheets and fairy lights hanging all around her stuff. You were sure she was one of those cute petite girls with big dreams and high hopes. She was nowhere to be seen though, you had been here for almost an hour now and still had to meet her. But that’s okay, you enjoyed being by yourself and you didn’t mind the peace and quiet to unpack at your own pace, so you just got right into work.

A couple hours flew by and you had just finished stuffing the last of the empty plastic boxes under your bed when you heard her coming. She was nothing you had imagined. Dark long hair and shiny eyes, yes, but taller than you, and skinnier, for sure. She had tight black skinny jeans and a pretty red shirt on, and although she was dressed simple, the way she stood made her look as if she just walked out of a fashion show. But as soon as she noticed you, her whole demeanor changed.

“Oh hey! I nearly didn’t see you, you must be y/n, right?” She was all smiles looking at your small figure barely showing from behind the bed.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, hope I didn’t scare you" you finally got up from your hiding spot to confirm that yup, she was definitely taller.

“No you’re alright” she took a step closer with open arms and you allowed yourself to be hugged by a complete stranger “I’m so excited to finally meet you! I’m Alice, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you” you managed to respond through the mane of hair around you and gave a small nudge to her waist to get out of her embrace.

“Oh I’m sorry! Did that made you uncomfortable? I’m a hugger, my friends keep telling me to take it easy but I just never do” She politely took a step back and seemed genuinely concerned about your feelings about that small act of affection.

“It's cool, I’m just not really used to it, I have three older brothers, we spend more time hitting each other than hugging" Alice took a sit on her bed and you did the same on yours, reading her motion to keep talking. “They all go here, well… not all of them, one just graduated actually, but he still lives close by, it’s a family thing I guess.”

“Oh who are them? I might know them or something, I’ve been here for a while and, as I’m sure you just saw, I’m a bit too social for my own good” she kicked her shoes off and made herself more comfortable, and again you mimicked her actions.

“Well the older one is Jin. Seokjin, actually, but I can’t remember the last time someone called him by his full name” you smiled, remembering that the only person he would let actually use his birth given name was your mother. “Then there’s Namjoon and Taehyung, they live together off campus with a couple of their friends” by the time you finished talking Alice had the biggest smile on her face.

“I can’t believe you’re the baby Kim they talk about so much!” At your confused expression, she continued “I’m really close friends with your brothers, my boyfriend introduced me to them last year and they had been a pain in my ass ever since! I don’t remember seeing you at Jin’s graduation though.”

“That’s so weird” you laughed, surprised at how small the world actually was. Or maybe your brothers, contrary to you, were just very social. “I was living abroad when he graduated, actually, and I was coming to surprise him but my flight got delayed and I missed the whole thing, he still gives me hell about it.”

“I can imagine” Alice laughed as well, swinging her body up again and standing by your bed now “I was actually just passing by the dorms to grab a coat and was heading to the boy’s house, you should come, it will be so nice to finally have another girl there” she extended her hand to you “We'll be the best of friends, I can already feel it” at that you grabbed her hand and reciprocated her warm smile.

You were not very sociable, and throughout all your life your closest friends have always been your brother’s friends, you wouldn’t bother changing that now, and it was good to have a girl by your side.

“Yeah sure, can I just take a shower first?”

Namjoon actually texted inviting you to come over when you were already on your way to his place in Alice’s car, so you never bothered answering, assuming you’d just show up in a few minutes anyway.

“I just have to pick my boyfriend up, if that’s alright?” You nodded, not really having any right to oppose, seeing as you were in her car anyway.

“Should I jump to the backseat?” You moved to unbuckle your seatbelt but her hand stopped you.

“It’s alright, really, I texted him before we left and I bet he won’t even look up from his phone when he gets in the car. Plus, you have a better music taste then him and I need you to keep changing songs” the compliment made you feel good and you relaxed in you seat, waiting for the boyfriend to show up.

A couple minutes later the door opened, just as you were looking for the next tune, and a handsome man took his place in the backseat. He had hair darker then Alice’s and although a little intimidating, he wasn’t tall or muscular, just had a certain aura around him. And just like the girl beside you predicted, he didn’t look away from his phone for a second.

“Y/n, this is Yoongi, Yoongi this is baby Kim” at his girlfriend’s voice he finally looked up, a confused look on his face.

“Baby Kim?” His voice was low and controlled, and he had the smallest pout searching for Alice’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

“She’s Joon’s younger sister” she started the car again and as soon as it left the driveway his attention was already gone.

“Oh, cool. Hi.” You assumed he addressed it at you, but his focus was entirely on the small device in his hand again.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just always working this days, I can’t believe I managed to get him out of his apartment today and- Hey! I love that song!” And just like that her attention was gone too. You could see why they worked.

Yoongi actually had the key to the apartment so you just walked right through the entrance of the building and up the elevators, only bothering to make yourselves known when you were already at the front door, ringing the doorbell. Not even you had the keys to your brother’s apartment, so they must be pretty close with this Yoongi guy. Just how much have you lost in the year you spent away? Before you could finish your thoughts, the door opened to review Jimin smiling warmly at the three of you. His expression changed quickly though, when he realized it wasn’t just his friends at the door but also little old you.

“Y/n-ah!” He opened his arms to welcome you “I missed you! Tae didn’t mention you were coming tonight!” You reciprocated the hug gladly.

Jimin is one of your oldest friends as well. He was Taehyung’s best friend since your brother could barely walk, and you all grew up together. With him constantly at your place, it was difficult to not see him as one of your own. He swung with you in his arms left and right before releasing you again.

“Yeah, Joon invited me actually, I just didn’t respond” you admit, passing your fingers through your hair to get it in place.

Yoongi and Alice just walked straight ahead and made themselves comfortable in the living room sofa. Namjoon’s and Taehyung’s place was much nicer than the dorms, that's for sure. It was way bigger as well, even if there were four people living here. You’ve been around a few times before with your mother, but it was clear that the boys made an effort then, seeing as how the place was kind of a mess now. Not dirty or anything, it just had a lot of stuff around. It was a four bedroom apartment, two of those bedrooms being suites. It had a spacious living room with large comfortable couches and a TV that was way too big for the table it was on. There was also a small table that was clearly moved to the side and not used much, and then there was a kitchen, only separated by a counter from the rest of the place. And your favorite part of the place: a large balcony filled with plants and pots and all things green that Namjoon kept.

“Y/n?” You were so caught up looking around that you didn’t realize your brother had left his room to see who arrived.

“Hey Tae, I can see that the getting-your-life-together thing was just an act for mom, uh?” You teased, pointing at the pile of clothing that was clearly his laying in one of the chairs around the small table beside you.

“I didn’t know you were coming today” ignoring the provocation completely, he walked past you into the kitchen “any of you guys want anything?”

“A beer, please, and do you have soda for Yoongi?” Alice turned from her place to see his response and as soon as Tae raised her the can of coke she smiled happily and returned her attention to whatever her boyfriend was showing her on his phone.

“Namjoon hyung should be right back, he went to buy more beer with Hoseok” Taehyung offered you a bottle of beer as well and went to sit on the sofa beside Yoongi. At that, Jimin, who was still by your side, nudged you to follow him and sit as well.

The conversation started flowing and you soon explained that you were actually rooming with Alice. To that, Taehyung offered his condolences to your new girl friend and earned himself a good old smack on the neck from you. Yoongi didn’t talk much, but whenever he opened his mouth it was to roast one of the other younger boys, and for that you were already very much a fan of him. Alice seemed at ease and both Jimin and Tae called her 'noona', showing how much they really cared for her. You were still a little bit shy, not knowing how to behave being around so many people your age again, seeing as you had spent the last year of your life mostly with really nice old ladies, volunteering at an organization in Dublin, but the change of pace seemed nice, and you were excited for the college experience, specially if it meant having friends like these around.

The door opened again a while later to reveal Namjoon, Hoseok and Jin carrying multiple bags of groceries, mostly filled with booze, you guessed. They didn’t notice you there at first, but as soon as Jin did, you were instantly smashed by the weight of him on top of you.

“Y/n-nie I missed you so much” he squeezed your head in a suffocating way.

“You saw me a week ago, please, I can’t breathe” you struggled and he released you from his deathly grip.

“That’s too much time to be away from my baby sister” he stated matter of factly and went back to the kitchen to help Hoseok, while you, once again, tried to tame the mess he made on your hair.

“I wasn’t sure you were coming” Namjoon took his place beside you, handing you another bottle of beer when he noticed yours was empty.

“I was already on my way here when you texted, my roommate is Alice” you clinked bottles with him as you have done many times before and took a sip, while he scanned the room to find Alice already smiling reassuringly back at him.

“Well, that’s a coincidence” Hoseok took his sit on the floor in front of you and smiled. He had helped you unload your boxes earlier with Namjoon and you were already so very fond of his heart shaped smile.

The night went by quickly, with you getting adjusted to the new dynamics. You learned that Hoseok and Jimin were both dance majors, and that’s how the four of them ended up living together. You also learned that Yoongi was a music major and worked at the campus’ official radio station, so you'd better get used to hearing his voice through the speakers wherever you were. Alice was a psychology major and, although you already knew your brother’s study fields, it was different hearing Tae complain about his art history professor in such colorful words that he obviously kept from your mother, and Joon candidly reciting books by heart at the most random times, you could only hope to take literature as serious as he did. Jin made you all dinner, but of course you all had to promise to swing by his cafe the next morning before classes start to repay him. Finally, you learned that there was still a piece missing, some dude called Jungkook that was apparently the same age as you, but a year ahead in college, seeing as you took a gap year. He was still moving in and that’s why he never came, but if he was half as cool as the people around you, you’d be just fine.

The next morning you woke up with time to spare. Alice was already up and showered when you left your room, witch you appreciated, as you now had the bathroom all to yourself. You washed your hair and got dressed in the outfit you had planned almost a week prior. As you were applying a bit of make up, Alice entered the room and gave you a cup of coffee she had just made, and you were a thousand times happier with the roommate you were assigned. Both of you grabbed your stuff and headed out the door to pass by Jin’s coffee shop for a nice morning treat as promised.

It was a short walk but it still took you a while to finally enter the place, as it was packed with anxious young adults heading to their first day of classes. As soon as Jin spotted you both, though, he pointed at a couple of free seats he saved for you at the counter and made a motion with his hands asking you to wait a second for him. You had had your coffee already, so when Jin brought two plates of toast you were amazed at how well your brother could read your mind.

“Jin oppa, can you get me a couple of muffins, I’ll drop them at the studio on my way to class” Alice asked nicely when Jin finally caught a break and he promptly found the two prettiest blueberry muffins for her to take “I’ll get going so I can feed Yoongi one of these, see you later, Y/n! Thanks again Jin!” Blowing a kiss at the both of you, Alice went on her way.

You took a look at your phone and realized you had fifteen minutes to get to class, more than enough time, sure, but you still wanted to get there early and find yourself a good seat, as Namjoon had told you creative writing was one of the hardest to get a good place. You waved your brother goodbye and just as you were leaving, it happened:

Out of nowhere, this tall dude ran into you as if you were nothing, spilling the dark coffee he was carrying all over you. He cursed -not at you, he didn’t even look at you-, and just kept walking, no apologies, no looking back. He just left. Your white shirt and your pants were ruined and you definitely didn’t have time to go back to the dorms and change. Facing the facts, you would spend your first day of college with stained clothes, but you swore to yourself that you would find out who that boy was and, when you did, you would make him pay.

> A/N | It's simple and cliché, I know, but give it a chance, I promise it gets better! Have a nice day, wherever and whoever you are :)

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

#bts fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #bts x you #college!bts #college!au #university au #university bts #prank wars

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bangtaninink · 6 years

Note

Can you please write a Vampire!Seokjin AU oh my god I'm literally in need of some new Jin smut that's filled with filth (because I doubt he's as innocent as he puts out 👀)

another anon request: Hello! Can I just say that your writing is absutely superb?! I’m so happy that you’ve made past Jin scenarios/fics (we Jin stans seriously lack wonderful scenarios/stories *cries*). That being said – may I please request a smut fic for the continuation of that BTS vampire!Jin fic AU? I’m dying to know what happens next! Thank you very much!

To Oblivion And Back

Summary: going back to how things used to be isn’t easy, but it’s damn well worth the effort (vampire!au)

Notes: bet y’all thought I forgot about this! (I did. Lowkey. And then I found it in my drafts and wrote like a madman because who doesn’t love vampire!Seokjin? Apologies to the peeps that requested this for taking so long!) I got carried away with this. Like very carried away. When you open that ‘read more’ cut, you’ll see what I mean. Also this is for the anon who was requesting vampire!Jin angst an eternity ago (although I’m not sure how angsty this is).

This is a continuation from this piece right here.

“You guys… got a dog?”

“Yeah. Actually, we’ve had a few dogs over the last couple of centuries. Taehyung hyung seems to like them a lot,” Jeongguk says, crouching down to scratch the top of the dog’s head, smiling fondly at it. “His name is Cat.”

“You named your dog Cat?” you ask, arching your brow.

“It was Taehyung hyung’s idea. We take turns every couple years to choose a dog and a name for it.”

“That is so… Taehyung.”

“Be glad you weren’t there the last time it was his turn.”

“Why?” Jeongguk turns to look at you over his shoulder, and the look on his face is enough for you. “Never mind. I probably don’t wanna know.”

Somewhere in the distance, someone calls Jeongguk’s name, and the both of you turn towards the doors, watching as they eventually open and let Namjoon in.

“Jeongguk.”

“Yeah, hyung?”

“Jin hyung’s looking for you. He said something about you and Jimin getting supplies.” Jungkook groans loudly, standing up and dusting off his knees.

“Again? I’m always on supply duty. No fair. Why can’t Yoongi hyung do it?” he whines.

“If you can find a way to get that particular brother out of his room for something that isn’t feeding or playing the piano, then I will personally offer you my share of food for a week.”

“Ooh. Challenge accepted,” Jeongguk replies, grinning as he runs out of the room. You and Namjoon watch as he disappears out of sight, shaking your heads and chuckling at the youngest’s antics.

“He hasn’t changed a bit,” you say, crouching down to scratch the back of Cat’s ears, just as Jeongguk had been doing.

“Not at all,” Namjoon agrees, sliding his hands into his pocket. “I used to hate the fact that he was turned at such a young age. Now I feel as if it’s not such a bad thing. He’s a breath of fresh air that one, despite all that he’s seen and been through with us.” You hum in agreement, standing back up.

“How’re you doing?” you ask.

“Good. Better. It’s almost as if I’d never been gone. Almost.” You laugh and nod. “And you? How are you doing?”

“I’m…” You pause to find the right words. “I’m fine, actually. I’d prepared myself for the worst before returning here. Seokjin is not the most predictable man out there, after all.” Namjoon hums quietly, walking over to the shelves, fingers running over the spines of dust-covered books. “It’s a slow process, but we’ve progressed more than I’d been expecting. Consider me pleasantly surprised.”

For a moment, a blanket of silence falls over you both, and while Namjoon is busy looking at the new books the family has collected in his absence, you watch Cat sniff curiously at your feet.

“It may not be my place to ask,” Namjoon says, voice cutting through the quiet. “But what did you do for my brothers to distrust you so much all those centuries ago, enough for them to make you leave the house of all things?” You pull your eyes away from the dog jumping up to nip at the hem of your skirt to look at Namjoon, who is already looking right at you, waiting patiently for your reply. “Or… would you rather not say?”

You make your way over to the arm chair by the window, Cat following right behind you and jumping onto your lap as soon as you’re seated.

“I… said things. Did things,” you reply, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes.

“Such as?”

“Namjoon… I’m sorry. I’d rather leave the past in the past. Recalling four centuries of betrayal and disloyalty is not very pleasant.”

“Of course. I understand. I still have visions about the things that happened back there.” You’re busy trying to distract yourself by staring down at Cat’s fur when Namjoon walks over to you, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Regardless of what you did, noona, I want to thank you anyway, because it was completely selfless and brave of you to do all that to bring me back to my family.” You look up, and come face to face with Namjoon’s kind and warm smile. “I owe you my life.”

Quiet chatter fills the library, and soft music in the air as Yoongi sits at the piano at the other end of the room, fingers flitting over the keys with practiced ease. Cat seems to have taken a liking to you, chasing after your feet as soon as you’re in sight, and today is no exception. He’s curled up at your feet, body wrapped around your ankle where you’re seated, flipping the pages of a new addition to the family’s collection.

“We haven’t really added much,” Jimin admits as he sits down on the sofa next to you, careful not to knock over the lit candles on the table beside him. “Namjoon hyung’s always been the one to bring in more books.”

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling softly. “Actually, I’m surprised you added any in the first place.”

“It was mostly me and Seokjin hyung. Yoongi hyung added a few music books here and there. But Jeongguk and Taehyung recently got into these things called… manhwa? They’re this century’s picture books essentially.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard of those.”

“They call it the ‘best of both worlds’ because, technically, they’re reading, but it doesn’t feel like it.” You chuckle quietly as Jimin rolls his eyes. “Children.”

Shutting the book in your hands, you stand to turn to the shelf behind you and return it to its place, rousing Cat from his nap. Your eyes scan the spines of the books, Cat trailing after you as you wander up and down along the walls of the library, in search of your next read. So absorbed in the myriad of titles, your shoulder collides with Seokjin’s suddenly as he wanders along the wall too in the opposite direction.

“Oh. Pardon me, _____,” he says, offering you a small, tight-lipped smile; you shake your head dismissively in return. Continuing on your way, you don’t notice the way Seokjin’s gaze follows after you, watching as you walk to the other wall, lingering at one shelf before moving on to the next.

“Hyung?” Seokjin’s attention shifts to Jeongguk, who stands beside him, one hand on the elder’s arm, the other clutching an open book. “Hyung, what does this word mean?”

Seokjin reads the word off of the page where Jeongguk points: rambunctious.

“That’s like… noisy and undisciplined. Kind of wild and uncontrollable,” Seokjin explains. “Kind of like you and Taehyung, and how you’re both all over the place.” Jeongguk scoffs and scrunches up his nose, while the elder grins proudly.

“I should’ve asked noona,” Jeongguk mumbles, walking away to drop himself back onto the couch next to Taehyung.

The words leave an acrid taste in your mouth the moment you’ve said them. A sharp pain twinges in your chest that you so desperately try to ignore when you watch everyone’s faces shift from expressions of surprise to betrayal in very little time, and hurts even more to know that you are the reason for it.

“What did you just say?” Seokjin asks.

“You heard me,” you reply, maintaining your composure and resisting the urge to cower, take everything you’ve said back and apologise.

“After everything we’ve done for you…”

“Everything you’ve done for me? Please! You and your family have done nothing but made me miserable. All this whining and moping about Namjoon. Just face it. He’s gone. He’s not coming back. You’ve lost a brother. We’ve all lost someone, Seokjin. That’s just the way things are. So suck it up and move on for God’s sake.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Yoongi shakes his head, looking at you, confused.

“What… what’s gotten into you, noona?” he asks. “This isn’t like you.”

“No, Yoongi. This is me. What you’ve been seeing for the last five centuries has been me pretending to be grateful for your family’s hospitality. But I’m not. I’ve realised now that I would’ve been more than fine on my own. You didn’t have to go and rescue me all those centuries ago. I wouldn’t have wasted five centuries here with the lot of you if you hadn’t.”

You can see the way Seokjin’s jaw tenses as he clenches and unclenches his teeth at all the spite that oozes out of you.

“But… we’ve done so much for you,” Hoseok argues.

“No. I’ve done so much for you,” you correct. “I’ve done more than my fair share of shit around this place without a word of thanks. Well, I’m sick of it. I’m tired of you six wandering around this castle hopelessly just because one of your brothers has gone. I’m tired of having to think of ways to cheer you six up like some kind of jester to take your mind off of things. Just face it. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.”

When Seokjin speaks, a chill runs down your spine at the tone of his voice, and you try not to visibly shiver.

“You know, I tried so hard to ignore it. I tried so hard to think nothing of the way you’d always wander out of the castle whenever you wanted, going God knows where and not returning until minutes before dawn. I thought I’d gone mental when I saw you in town with Hyunwoo.” Ears perk up and eyebrows raise at the name.

“Hyunwoo?” Taehyung repeats. “As in…”

“As in Hyunwoo from the western village, yes,” Seokjin finishes.

“Hyung, you said never to–”

“I know what I said. But, clearly, _____ has forgotten.”

“Those guys are vile, self-absorbed animals with absolutely no remorse or pity for anyone that isn’t in their clan,” Yoongi says. “What are you doing with Hyunwoo, noona?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Clearly, I’ve found a more accomodating clan, one that’ll actually make me feel like one of their own, and not some fucking maid.”

“B-but… noona, you said…” Jimin says, stammering. “You said you’d help us find Namjoon hyung no matter what.”

You shrug.

“Namjoon’s not worth finding, Jimin.”

As if you’d just swung at them all, the six of them take a step back at your comment, speechless. The looks of disbelief you’re met with are hard to look at, but you steel yourself, and force yourself to maintain eye contact with Seokjin.

It feels as if a whole century passes before anyone says anything.

“Get out,” Seokjin spits. “And never come back.”

“Everyone! Your attention, please!”

Hyunwoo’s words ring out over the loud raucous, and the chatter dies down to almost complete silence at the clan leader’s voice.

“Tonight is a night of celebration,” he says, grinning proudly. “Because tonight, we welcome a new addition to our little family. An alluring, beautiful addition, I must say.” He wraps his arm around your waist, and you pretend you don’t want to run away from his touch immediately, like you don’t have the urge to cringe. “How fortunate that little ol’ me was able to convince her to leave that stupid little family she’d been holed up with for five centuries.” The crowd boos at the mention of another clan; Hyunwoo nods in agreement, but waves his other hand to quiet them down before reaching for his glass. “A toast: to our clan, the strongest, most indestructible group of brothers and sisters this century will ever have the pleasure of being destroyed by.”

Whoops of agreement and joy fill the air as glasses are raised in celebration before flutes of blood are downed to the last drop. You do the same, with a tight-lipped smile as you turn to look at Hyunwoo. He winks and brings his flute to his lips with a proud grin.

Dinner is quieter than it ever has been in centuries.

Jeongguk stares down at his goblet, unable to find the energy to reach out and take a sip, eyes boring holes in the gold trimming and the reflection of the fireplace against the glass.

Yoongi sits slumped in his chair, not bothering to look up at anyone, much less his own goblet, cradling his head in his hand, elbow resting on the arm rest of his chair. He clenches his teeth at the incessant scratching of Taehyung’s nails against the edge of the wood of the table, the sound grating in his ears, quickly turning into an annoyance that leaves him with the urge to reach over the table and grab his brother by the lapels of his coat and shake the life out of him.

Jimin and Hoseok take turns heaving out quiet sighs, chewing at their lips and looking everywhere but at the people seated at the table, unsure of what to do or say.

Only Seokjin, seated at the head of the table, sips at his goblet of blood periodically, staring at the fire with no emotion present on his face.

“And finally, our dungeon,” Hyunwoo announces proudly, waving his arm in front of him, as if displaying a collection of fine jewellery. “I quite like coming down here on days I’m not feeling so confident about things.”

“So… never,” you offer with a quiet chuckle; he replies with hearty laughter, pulling you closer to his side.

“Well. I will admit those days are far and few, _____. But even someone such as myself has their off days.”

“That’s quite hard to believe.”

Hyunwoo grins and leads you down the stairs. The air in the dungeon is cold, stale and wet, and you hear the heels of your boots squelch with every step. You try not to grimace at the stench, and certainly try not to think about what could have caused the stench in the first place.

“It’s not the most pleasant room in the castle,” Hyunwoo says. “But it’s a morale booster for people like me, especially when you take in the sheer number of prisoners we have locked up down here.”

“How many are there?” you ask.

“About eight dozen. We’re aiming for double that by the end of the century.”

“Impressive.”

“Here. Let me take you to one of the prisoners.” Strange sounds fill the air as you pass cell after cell, the sound of rattling chains almost drowned out by the cacophony of strangled moans and wails coming from trapped prisoners. “Here we are.”

Hyunwoo nods at one of the guards standing by, and you watch as he take the keychain attached to his belt, metal colliding against metal as he searches through the keys to find the one that unlocks the cell in front of you. The iron scratches and squeals against the railing on the ground as the guard opens up the cell, stepping aside to allow you and Hyunwoo to step inside.

Your body tenses a little at the sight in front of you.

“A familiar face, no?” Hyunwoo asks, chuckling, kicking at a puddle of water in front of him. Drops of water splash against Namjoon’s face, rousing him to consciousness. You remain stoic as he lifts his head from where he kneels, chains keeping his arms hanging above him, eyes squinting as he tries to register what he sees in front of him.

“N-noona?” he whispers, eyes growing wide when he recognises you.

“Scum,” Hyunwoo spits, stepping forward to bring his hand down across Namjoon’s cheek, the sound of the slap making you flinch a little where you stand. The chains rattle at the impact as Namjoon jostles around. You say nothing, taking in how thin and frail he looks, hair frazzled and messy as he winces at the sting. “You ought to think twice about opening your mouth in front of me.” As if nothing had happened, Hyunwoo is back at your side with a smile, his arm wrapping around your waist once again. “How in God’s name did you stand to live with this one and his family for so long, _____?”

Namjoon lifts his head once more to look at you, and the look in his eyes makes you want to fall to your knees and weep.

Instead, you shrug, and wrap your own arm around Hyunwoo’s waist, turning the both of you to walk out of the cell.

“No idea.”

You stare up at the ceiling, silent as Hyunwoo snores away beside you, his arm heavy on your stomach. The curtains haven’t been closed completely shut, and a tiny sliver of sunlight makes its way into the room just a few feet away from the foot of the bed. Your mind reels, the image of Namjoon chained to the stone walls ingrained in your brain, and it takes so much self control not to run out of the room and down to the dungeon once again to see him.

In the almost-silence, you’re left wondering if this was the best way to go about things, if betraying an entire family to find and rescue their lost brother was the best decision. You could have easily stayed with them, told them about your first encounter with Hyunwoo, and how each successive encounter with him eventually led to you find out about Namjoon’s whereabouts. You could have easily stayed to plan something out with them, because seven would be stronger than just one.

But in the back of your mind, you know that it would have never worked, because between Hoseok’s impulsiveness and Yoongi’s overthinking, the family would either not have gotten anywhere, or would have gone too far and lost even more brothers.

Even if you despise Hyunwoo, this is the way it has to be in order to bring the family back together.

A knock at the door pulls Seokjin’s focus away from the newspaper clippings and print-outs on his desk.

“Come in,” he calls out.

Jimin steps into Seokjin’s study, pulling at the ends of his sleeves to almost completely cover his hands after shutting the door behind him. With hesitation in every step, he walks over to sit down in the armchair directly in front of Seokjin, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Hi, hyung,” he says, voice soft.

“Hello,” Seokjin replies, smiling a little before looking back down at the scraps of paper in front of him. “What brings you in here?”

Jimin is quiet, and for a moment, Seokjin doesn’t seem to notice that he hasn’t been given a reply. Distracted, he sorts through the paper covering his desk, looking for any kind of hint or sign of where his brother might be.

“Hyung.”

“Mmm?” Seokjin hums, not even looking up to meet Jimin’s eyes.

“Hyung, what if… do you ever wonder if… i-if noona was right?” Seokjin freezes, a clipping from last week’s newspaper held between his fingers as the room is shrouded in a cloak of silence. “It’s… i-it’s been a century and a half. What if we’ve been wasting our t–”

“Don’t, Jimin,” Seokjin interrupts, hands slowly starting to ball up into fists. “Don’t you dare. This is our brother we’re talking about, understand?”

“I know. I know, hyung. But, noona… she…”

“She was wrong. I don’t know what’d gotten into her that day, but she was wrong – she is wrong. We’re gonna find Namjoon, with or without her help.”

Hesitant, Jimin tugs at the sleeves of his sweater again, too nervous to look Seokjin in the eye when the tension is thick in the air. He can feel the elder’s frustration radiating off of him, slapping him in the face without warning, and Jimin takes this as his cue to go.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay, hyung. We’ll find him.”

“We’ll find him,” Seokjin replies, no longer able to read the words on the clipping in his grasp through the tears welling up in his eyes.

Namjoon hears the clicking of heels against the cement ground growing louder and louder, until eventually, they come to a complete stop. He hears quiet murmurs of incoherent words, recognises the two voices, but says nothing. The metal door of his cell makes a grating screech against the railing as it’s pulled open, and he still keeps his head down.

“Namjoon.”

That voice has his mind reeling and a strange combination of emotions stirring in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what to do or how to react.

“Namjoon, it’s me.”

Slowly, you crouch down in front of him, reaching out to cup his cheek. Unexpectedly, he turns his head away, and avoids looking at you as best as he can while he’s still chained to the wall.

“Namjoon. It’s me,” you repeat, trying not to sound as desperate as you feel.

“Is it?” he asks, voice raspy and hoarse. “Because you’re not exactly the _____ noona I remember.”

“I know.”

It’s quiet for a moment, with just the distant sounds of more chains rattling and more screaming to keep you both company. Namjoon is the first to speak after the silence.

“What do you want?”

Warily, you look over your shoulder, making sure the guard has left like you’d asked him to, making sure that you and Namjoon are completely alone.

“I’m getting you out of here,” you say.

At this, Namjoon does lift his head to look at you, albeit slowly. He sees the determination in your eyes, the promise engrained in between your words, and for a moment, his doubt wavers, all of a sudden convinced that his old _____ noona had never left.

“What?”

“I’m getting you out of here,” you repeat, reaching into the neckline of your dress to pull out a flask you’d tucked away, shuffling closer to Namjoon as you unscrew the cap. “I apologise for taking so long, but you have to understand that I couldn’t rush this. I had to take my time, make sure that Hyunwoo had no reason to doubt or suspect me of anything.”

Namjoon is quick to wrap his lips around the lip of the flask, tilting his head back to gulp down mouthfuls of blood like the literal starved man he was. It’s not enough, you know it’s not enough, but it’ll do for now. You card your fingers through his sweat-soaked fringe as he sighs and pants, letting him rest his head in your palm as you support him.

“I’m so hungry, noona,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you rub circles on his temple.

“I know, Namjoon. I’ll come down to visit you more regularly from here, now that Hyunwoo’s out of town.”

His eyes open again slowly, and he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do y– we’re not leaving now? Tonight?”

“We can’t, Namjoon. Not yet,” you reply with a small shake of your head. “Hyunwoo left just after twilight. He’s not far enough yet. We need to wait a little longer. You can do that for me, can’t you? We’ve already gotten this far.” Namjoon sighs.

“How long?”

“Two more days. Just two more days and I’ll get you out of here. I’ll bring you back to your brothers.”

Namjoon swallows thickly, feeling his throat start to tighten a little at the mention of his family. He blinks away the dampness that’s starting to form in his eyes, and nods.

“Yeah, noona. I can wait,” he says. “It’s been four centuries. What’s another two days?”

For the most part, Minjae leaves you be, lets you wander the castle without supervision because, frankly, he has more important things to do than to keep an eye on you when all you do is sit in the library and read. As Hyunwoo’s second-in-command, he’d raised no complaints to your addition to the clan for fear of losing his rank, though he had been anything but approving of the leader’s decision. Now, after four centuries, he maintains his doubts, but ignores them in favour of saving his time to do more important things than worry about Hyunwoo’s new companion.

He’d heard about you (almost everyone had), and about your family’s nobility pre-vampirism, the closest the country had to royalty all those centuries ago. He’d heard of your family’s downfall, of the massacre that had consumed everyone but yourself in some stroke of fate, and later, of your salvation. It was no surprise for Minjae to learn of Hyunwoo’s desire to find you, his leader always so greedy and hungry for nothing but the best – and you, (un)fortunately, were the best.

Minjae passes the open doors of the library during his routine inspection of the castle, and isn’t surprised to find you already sitting in the velvet-lined armchair. What he is surprised about is the way you call for his attention.

“Minjae?” you say, peering over the book in your hand. “A word, if you have a moment.”

The wood creaks as he pushes the door open a little further to step inside, the heels of his boots clicking against the wooden floorboards.

“Yes?”

“May I ask, how old is this castle?”

Minjae arches an eyebrow, but answers nevertheless.

“Master Hyunwoo dates it around the thirteenth century. It’s been in his family since the sixteenth century. Why do you ask?”

You shrug, and lower your eyes back down to the book in your hands.

“No reason in particular.” You can tell Minjae is unconvinced, and you chuckle softly, turning the page. “There are a lot of books in here about architecture. I suppose it just never occurred to me to ask Hyunwoo about it until now.”

“I’m sure Master Hyunwoo would be more than happy to discuss the castle’s origins with you in more detail when he returns on the twelfth.” You glance up at him, and watch as he adjusts his sleeves and lapels of his suit jacket. “Will that be all, _____?”

“Yes. Thank you, Minjae. Don’t let me take up anymore of your time.”

“It would be wise for you to consider heading back to your room soon. Sunrise is just four hours away.”

“Namjoon? Namjoon.”

Chains rattle as Namjoon stirs at the sound of your quiet whispers, and he watches as you take extra care in opening his cell door, careful not to make too much noise. You leave just enough space for yourself to step through, clutching the knapsack in your arms close to your chest.

“Noona?” he whispers back. You shush him quietly, and drop to your knees in front of him, putting the knapsack down by your side. “Is it time? Are we leaving now?”

“Yes.”

It’s as if four centuries of fatigue dissipate from his body at the single word, and his chains rattle again as he suddenly becomes alert. He watches as you reach into your dress and pull out a key, standing to unlock his wrists, holding your arms out to catch him as he stumbles.

“Christ almighty,” he sighs, leaning against you as the ache in his arms and shoulders becomes all too apparent all of a sudden.

“I’m afraid we cannot waste any time, Namjoon,” you say, reaching into the knapsack to pull out a bottle much larger than the vials and flasks you’d been secretly feeding him before. “Drink this – all of it. You’re going to need your strength.”

Namjoon has no complaints, and wastes no time in taking the bottle from you, uncorking the top and downing almost half without a breath. You wait for him to finish every drop of blood in the bottle before you’re reaching into the knapsack again, pulling out a pile of freshly pressed clothing and thrusting it into his arms.

“Get dressed. Quick as you can. Hurry. We don’t have much time. Sunrise is approaching.”

You can feel Namjoon’s breaths grazing against your ear as you both stand still, backs pressed to the cold stone walls of the castle. This is now or never, and you both know it.

“There’s a cave,” you whisper. “Just a mile down that path between the oaks. If we’re quick, we’ll make it before the sun rises. From there, we can wait ‘til tomorrow’s twilight to move again. The city centre is just less than fifty miles from there. We can get there on foot in two days, less if we’re quick. Once we get to the city centre, we’ll be able to find safe passage.”

“How do you know all this, noona?” Namjoon asks, eyes shifting left and right warily.

“I spent the last four centuries turning Hyunwoo’s library inside and out ever since I found out he came from a family of cartographers. Fortunately for us, he seems to have inherited his family’s love of maps and collects them, and continues to update his collection with more accurate ones that detail new routes and paths he and his clan can take. It seems he uses his highly accurate maps to find discreet ways to approach those small towns and villages and ambush them.”

“Do you remember everything? Where we have to go?”

“I have them with me,” you reply, pointing towards the knapsack to emphasise your point. “All of Hyunwoo’s maps from the last quarter-century are on my back right now. He keeps them hidden away in a chamber in his study, and he never takes them with him when he travels, just in case he, by some off chance, encounters some kind of problem. He won’t risk having his maps stolen from him and give his enemy the upper hand.”

“So how does he know where to go?”

“He studies his maps about a week and a half in advance before he plans to travel, locks himself away in his study for hours on end to memorise different routes he can lead his men through.”

“And… how did you get the maps, noona?”

With pursed lips, you turn to look at Namjoon over your shoulder, biting the inside of your cheek.

“That’s not important right now, Namjoon. What matters is that I get you back home.”

“Did you hear?” Hoseok says, looking around the table. “One of the villages in Ulsan was attacked last night. Gosan, I think it was.”

“Attacked?” Taehyung repeats. “By who?”

“Tch. Who else?” Yoongi mutters, picking at the chipped varnish on the edge of the table.

“That’s the furthest Hyunwoo’s ever gone,” Jeongguk says, eyebrows furrowed. “What is he trying to do, destroy the entire country?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Jimin replies, sighing and leaning back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking deeper into the cushions. “He’s a greedy motherf–”

“Language, Jimin.”

All eyes turn to Seokjin, who doesn’t take his gaze away from the fire, licks of orange and yellow reflected in his pupils. His goblet of blood remains completely untouched, rested on the arm of his chair as he damn near stares at the fire without blinking once.

“Um… hyung?” Jeongguk asks, voice soft and full of hesitation. Seokjin doesn’t answer, but Jungkook continues anyway. “What’re we gonna do?”

“What do you mean by that, Jeongguk?”

“Hyung, it’s… it’s been four centuries. Four hundred years. All we’ve done is sit here and mope.”

“Jeongguk…” Hoseok warns, watching Seokjin’s jaw tense up.

“We’ve done nothing,” Jeongguk continues, clearly growing frustrated as he stands, hands slamming down onto the table. “We did no searching, no running around town asking if anyone’s seen Namjoon hyung or heard of anything. We’ve barely left the house since he’s disappeared, and look what we’re doing now: just sitting around the table twiddling our thumbs.”

“Jeongguk, stop,” Jimin says, but his voice is too quiet to be heard over Jeongguk.

“Hyung’s gone. Noona’s gone. If we’re not gonna do anything, we might as well go stand out in the sun and crisp up like some fucking fried chicken.”

“Jeon Jeongguk,” Seokjin says, rising to his feet. “Sit your fucking ass d–”

“He’s right,” Yoongi interjects. The whole room turns towards Yoongi, who’s straightened up in his seat, hands resting in his lap.

“What did you say?”

“I said, Jeongguk’s right, hyung. And you know it.” Eyes shift from the elder to the second-in-command back and forth, tension growing in the air with each passing silent second.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, voice sounding strangled and strained.

“I know it’s the last thing you want to be hearing out loud,” Yoongi continues, rising to his feet calmly. “But this might be it from now on: the six of us, for the rest of our existence. They might come back; they might not. We have no way of knowing. Wouldn’t it just be easier to accept that they’re not here anymore? Save yourself the turmoil, hyung. You can’t spend the rest of eternity looking for something that can’t or doesn’t want to be found.” With slow but resolute steps, Yoongi makes his way over to where Seokjin stands with his head hanging low, resting a hand on the elder’s shoulder. “Hyung.”

Without warning, Seokjin falls back into his seat, hiding his face in his hands as sobs start to spill from his lips, shoulders trembling under Yoongi’s touch. The sound of Seokjin’s crying echoes throughout the room, his brothers quick to push away their chairs and join him at the head of the table, arms overlapping Yoongi’s as he leans down to hug Seokjin. At the elder’s feet, Jeongguk furiously wipes at his cheeks, face crumpled in anguish as reality finally starts to dawn on them all: this could be it.

The cave is cold, the stone walls damp with condensation. You and Namjoon have tucked yourselves away in the deepest part, careful to avoid the sunlight as the sun begins to rise, filling half of the cave before it’s even fully risen. Namjoon is panting quietly beside you, head resting on your shoulder as fatigue starts to set in, not used to expelling so much energy anymore. You drop your knapsack down at your side to wrap your arms around him, helping him settle into your side comfortably and catch his breath.

“Alright?” you ask. He nods his head once in confirmation with a soft sigh. “Get some sleep, Namjoon. I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”

“What about you?” he asks, concerned.

“I’m fine.”

“You are now, noona. What about later?” You chuckle quietly.

“I’ll be fine,” you reply, carding your fingers through his hair. “Just get some rest.”

Seokjin watches as the tiny sliver of sunlight that peeks through a distant gap in the curtains starts to fade away, turning his head to stare up at the ceiling as his room gradually begins to grow dark. He hasn’t been counting, but it’s been four centuries, three years, six months and seventeen days since Namjoon’s been missing, and four centuries, one month and twenty six days since you left. It’s been agony, slow and painful torture to watch his family crumble before his very eyes, and he’s spent so long trying to pick up the pieces, remould them, and bring it back together again.

He tries not to think about you. He tries not to let his mind wander when everyone is seated at the table, and there are two very obvious vacant seats. He tries not to dwell on the thought that his bed seems too big for him, and that he’s no longer fighting anyone for the sheets. Seokjin doesn’t allow his mind to wander to the ‘what ifs’, but when he’s left alone to simmer in his thoughts, he can’t help but wonder if he’s being delusional thinking he can still smell you on his pillows.

With a sigh, Seokjin rolls over and sits up, rubbing the fatigue from his face with his hands. It’s hell on Earth, knowing that every day he wakes up without a new lead on his brother’s whereabouts is a waste. It’s admirable, though, his perseverance, he thinks, that after four centuries he has still not given up hope. Still, Yoongi’s words continue to ring in his ears, and since that night, Seokjin has wondered if it’s time to give the hunt up, to let things be.

The near silent house starts to become filled with noise as he gets dressed, and he can hear the tell-tale shuffling of Yoongi’s feet against the hardwood floors outside, on his way to the library to start playing his piano as he always does upon waking. He’s just managed to slide his slippers onto his feet when he hears the distinct sound of glass shattering somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, followed by the poorly hushed voices of Jimin, Taehyung and Jeongguk. Despite himself, Seokjin chuckles quietly, and leaves his room.

“Namjoon? Are you okay?”

“Huh?” You watch as Namjoon blinks, as if pulled out of a trance, turning to look at you. “Oh. Yes, I’m fine, noona. It’s just… it’s nice.”

You hum, understanding.

“It’s been four centuries. A lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. And yet, at the same time, the city’s exactly the same. It’s astounding.”

The both of you chuckle, watching as clusters of people rush right past you both. It’s as if the both of you are invisible, the way people pay no mind to you standing by.

“We should get you something to drink,” you say, holding onto Namjoon’s sleeve. “Come. There’s a nice cafe just a few blocks from here.”

“Hello?” Jimin frantically waves a hand in front of Taehyung’s face, who is currently zoned out at the dining table. “Tae? Hello?”

“What, Chim?” Taehyung says, deadpan.

“Wow. What happened to you?”

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s a first,” Yoongi scoffs, turning the page of his newspaper.

“Shut up, hyung. This is big.”

“How big?” Jimin asks, eyebrows furrowed. “Like, ‘I nearly dropped that figurine that Hoseok hyung pretends he doesn’t like that much but secretly loves it’ big, or ‘I nearly scratched Yoongi hyung’s piano playing with Jeongguk’s new remote-controlled car’ big?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Bigger,” he replies.

“What could be bigger than you almost damaging my baby?” Yoongi asks, frowning.

Jimin’s confusion grows when Taehyung sighs, scratching his head and slouching in his seat.

“I think… call me crazy, but… I think I saw Namjoon hyung yesterday.”

Yoongi freezes, mid-page turn.

“You what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a hundred percent certain I did. I don’t know if I was hallucinating because it was almost sunrise, or if it was because I drank some bad blood, but… it really looked like him. A-and _____ noona. I think.”

The three of them exchange looks silently.

“Where?” Jimin asks.

“The city centre. I was waiting for Jeongguk outside that cool animal cafe that just opened up.”

“Have you told Seokjin hyung about this?” Yoongi asks, sitting up and putting his newspaper down. Taehyung shakes his head.

“I don’t even know if I really did see him. I don’t want to get his hopes up. You know how hyung’s been over the last four centuries.”

It’s quiet in the library, and somewhere in the distance, they can hear the tapping of Cat’s claws out in the hallway as he trails after Jeongguk.

“Jesus,” Jimin mutters. “Jesus, hyung. Could you imagine? If Taehyung really did see Joonie hyung? Four centuries later?”

“Don’t say a word of this to Seokjin hyung,” Yoongi cuts in, jaw tense.

“What? Why n–”

“Jimin, don’t. At least not until we get some more information, or some kind of confirmation that Taehyung really saw what he saw.”

“He’s right,” Taehyung agrees. “We can’t give this house false hope – we can’t give Seokjin hyung any false hope.”

“Right.”

“Four centuries,” Jimin repeats, sighing and sitting back. “Four centuries of nothing, and then all of a sudden, there’s a possibility he just… appears like that…”

“Taehyung, try not to buy anything that isn’t a necessity this time, please,” Seokjin says, handing Taehyung money with a warning look.

“I mean, I can’t guarantee anything, hyung. The latest edition of me and Jeongguk’s favourite manhwa just came out a couple days ago,” Taehyung replies, smiling innocently.

“Hyung, if you come back without it, you’re dead to me,” Jeongguk says, poking his head out from behind Seokjin.

“Technically, we’re all dead, so…” Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “But, you got it, bro.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Everyone’s heads turn towards the door where Yoongi steps out of the library, buttoning up his coat, eyebrows rising with surprise.

“This is a first,” Seokjin says, chuckling softly. Yoongi shrugs.

“I’m uninspired. Figured a nice walk would clear my head a little,” he says, casting a brief look towards Taehyung.

“Well. I’m not going to argue with that. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you out of the house for the last century already. Taehyung could use an extra pair of hands. I heard from Mr. Yang that he almost dropped an entire week’s supply last month.”

“In my defence,” Taehyung cuts in. “There was a really cute dog that walked past the store.”

“That’s some weak defence, hyung,” Jeongguk snickers.

“Keep an eye on him,” Seokjin says quietly to Yoongi.

“Of course, hyung.”

It’s a quiet walk to the city centre, a heavy blanket of tension and anticipation hanging over Yoongi and Taehyung. Questions rest on the tip of Taehyung’s tongue, desperate to cut through the silence between them, but he holds back, knowing that one look at the elder’s face is enough to tell him that he’s deep in thought. It’s no secret why Yoongi had decided to accompany him, and there’s a part of Taehyung that’s relieved to have him of all people at his side – as the most rational thinker in the house, if anyone can confirm or deny Taehyung’s claims, it’s Yoongi.

It’s as busy as ever in the city centre, waves of people coming and going quicker than Yoongi can keep up with. He pays no mind to anyone else, however, eyes sharp and on the look out. He knows what he’d told Taehyung and Jimin, that to instil false hope on the house could potentially be more damaging to the family than ever before, but intuition tells him that there might be some truth to Taehyung’s story.

The supply pick-up is quick, as standard as ever, with nothing out of the ordinary occurring. Yoongi barely bats a lash at the way the case of the coven’s monthly blood supply is thrust into his arms before Taehyung is running into the bookstore, returning with significantly less change and a brand new book in his hands. Taehyung, too, makes no complaints when Yoongi stops them at a nearby cafe for a little while, under the guise that he was not used to so much walking anymore.

Taehyung jokes about Yoongi’s age, and the elder doesn’t even have the heart to reprimand him – in fact, he chuckles a little at the jab.

Nothing happens. Dawn begins to approach, and, defeated, Yoongi and Taehyung realise that to stay out any longer is futile. The walk back home is just as quiet as ever, Yoongi having to pull Taehyung out of the way of approaching bicycles and cars here and there as the younger gets a head start on the manhwa over Jeongguk.

“Taehyung, put that down, please,” Yoongi says, sighing as he bows apologetically once more to the driver of a passing car. “Can’t you wait until we’re home? We’re only a block away. Watch where you’re w–”

Confused by Yoongi abrupt halt, Taehyung looks up from the page, confused by the look on the elder’s face.

Until he follows his line of sight.

The book falls to the dirt-covered ground, the case of blood following suit.

Namjoon chuckles softly at the expressions on his brothers’ faces. It’s a tired sound, but filled with relief. In any other situation, you’d find the whole thing emotional, but with dawn approaching, with Namjoon and yourself in need of a feed, you can’t find yourself feeling anything but anxious.

“Please tell me that’s blood in there,” you say, eyeing the case at Yoongi’s feet. Taehyung scrambles at lightning speed to step into action, albeit with shaking hands, to unlock the case and grab two bags of blood, running over to where Namjoon and yourself stand, Namjoon’s arm draped over your shoulders as you help support his weight. “Yoongi. A hand, please.”

Yoongi is at Namjoon’s other side before you can even finish, draping his other arm across his shoulders.

“I new it,” Taehyung mutters, voice wavering as he helps Namjoon drink, eyes already damp. “I k-knew I saw you two.”

“You should’ve said hi then,” you joke quietly. Only Namjoon laughs.

You watch as he turns to Yoongi, nuzzling his nose against the side of the elder’s head.

“Long time no see, hyung.”

Jeongguk is hungry for blood pudding.

Determined steps take him to the second floor, headed towards you and Seokjin’s room, desperate for his older brother’s recipe book.

A firm hand stops him at the top of the stairs.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Hoseok says, a grim look on his face.

“Wh– why not, hyung?” Jeongguk asks, frowning. “I just wanted to ask Jin hyung for his recipe book.”

“Trust me, Jeongguk. Not right now.” Hoseok continues before Jeongguk can protest any more. “Noona’s in there too.” Hoseok watches the younger’s face morph into one of pure realisation.

“Oh, gross!”

“Yep.”

“Damn it. I’m hungry though. I really want some blood pudding, but it’s too late to go to the city and buy some from Mrs. Lee.”

“Damn. Blood pudding sounds pretty good right now. But you won’t be able to ask for that recipe book until tomorrow by the sounds of things,” Hoseok says, draping an arm across Jeongguk’s shoulders, leading the younger back downstairs.

“Do you know how to make blood pudding?”

“Google exists for a reason, doesn’t it?”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” you reply, grinning.

“You’re treading a very fine line right now,” Seokjin says, jaw tense. You chuckle.

“Oh? What’s on either side of the line, honey?”

He glances down, and swallows hard at the sight of you, with your hair tussled, lipstick slightly smudged, dressed in nothing but one of his silk shirts.

“My self control, and my lack of,” he replies, swallowing thickly. You hum softly, sitting up to situate yourself on his hips, hands smoothing down his bare chest, fingers curling just slightly to drag your nails along his skin. Seokjin inhales sharply at the slight tingle your nails leave in their wake.

“I think I know which side of the line I want you to be on,” you say, smiling sweetly.

“No you don’t,” he counters, taking hold of your wrists, holding them down on your thighs.

“Of course I do. Don’t you remember Venice?”

“God,” he groans, recalling the past. “Venice.”

“Didn’t you have a great time in Venice with me, darling? Because I had a fantastic time with you.”

You lean back down, lips brushing over the vein that protrudes from his neck, warm breath fanning over his skin. You watch Seokjin’s throat shift with another thick swallow, grinning as you press a kiss to his pulse.

“Well…”

Bingo. You know you’ve won.

“Since you mentioned Venice…”

You gasp when you feel your bodies being flipped over, laughing breathlessly when your head hits the pillow, Seokjin hovering over you with a giddy smile.

“I miss Venice,” he says, peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle at how ticklish it all feels. “We should go again.”

“With or without your brothers?” you ask, gasping again when his tongue laves at your jaw.

“Without,” he replies immediately. You hum, holding back a smile.

“Wow. When did the great Kim Seokjin get so selfish?”

“Obviously being separated from you for four centuries did things to me, _____.”

“You big softie,” you coo.

“I am anything but right now, honey.”

“I can feel that. But you must’ve gotten slower in your old age, Jinnie. You’re taking an awfully long time to do anything.”

“You can’t just let me enjoy this?” he groans, frowning against your shoulder.

“But, Jinnie,” you whine. You hold back another grin when he sighs against your skin.

“I hate when you do that.”

“Why?”

“Makes me feel like I’ll say yes to anything you want.”

“You’d say yes even if I didn’t whine.”

“You know what? I hate that you know me so well, _____,” Seokjin says.

“No you don’t.”

“Yeah. No I d–” You cut him off before he can finish, tilting your head to press your lips to his, forcing him to lose his train of thought. It doesn’t take long for his grip on your wrists to loosen enough for you to be able to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close, the weight of his torso heavy on yours.

The tip of your tongue brushes along his fangs, moaning at the way they graze against you before Seokjin is biting down gently on your bottom lip. He cradles your head in one hand, the other sliding down your chest and stomach. His lips move surprisingly slow for someone who’d been impatient not even a minute ago, tongue gently sliding against yours with a slight curl to coax it out, and you know that it won’t be long now before the tables will be turning and you will become the impatient one losing all your self control.

“Jinnie,” you moan, pushing your head back into the pillows, lips shiny and slick with spit, a beautiful shade of red that Seokjin spends a moment admiring. He looks down and holds back a groan, because the silk of his shirt on your frame does nothing to hide the curves and contours of your body, and he watches as your chest rises and falls underneath him.

Seokjin reaches up to unbutton the shirt agonisingly slow, and he grins silently at the way you squirm, fingertips touching every inch of your soft, supple skin as it’s exposed, because just as you’d suspected, you’ve now lost your ability to control your desire, restless beneath his gaze and touch as Seokjin takes his time in undressing you. A soft whimper bubbles in your throat, but he quiets you down with a kiss to your neck, teeth grazing along the goosebumps that rise in their wake, letting the whimper morph into a surprised gasp.

He takes a deep breath in, letting the scent of you intoxicate him and cloud his senses until all he can think about is you, and the way your body feels in his hold. Seokjin feels your legs wrap around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into the small of his back when you push your hips up to knock against his, hoping to signal your need for more.

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear, laughing lowly.

“I waited four centuries, darling,” you reply. “Haven’t I been patient enough?”

He hums quietly, pushing the silk off your body to fall at your side and expose you to the air of his room, watching you shiver a little. You watch Seokjin shuffle down, pressing kisses down your shoulder and collarbone, travelling lower until his mouth hovers over your breast. Your breaths are shaky when his fangs brush against your nipple, one hand squeezing your other breast, fingertips pushing dimples into your skin, and it’s all so much, but not enough.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Seokjin asks, words muttered against your nipple. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“You,” you whine, back arching off the bed when his hips roll against yours. “Always you. Only you. Fuck, I want you, Jinnie. Please.”

You hear Seokjin groan, forehead resting in your cleavage, and then before you can even blink, he’s pushed himself down lower, lying in between your legs, already so close to your heat that you don’t have time to process anything quick enough.

“Only me?” he repeats, warm breath brushing against your skin.

“Only you,” you whisper, nodding shakily.

“I love you, _____.”

“I-I lo--”

He doesn’t let you finish, and everything seems to happen so much quicker after that. You barely have the time to recover from the way he pushes a finger into you, and then another, and then another, all while he sucks fervently on your clit and licks hungrily at your folds. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently and urging him on.

Seokjin seems to be just as -- if not, more -- impatient than you, not continuing on for more than a minute before he’s pushing himself up onto his knees, not taking his fingers out of you when he leans down to press his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, urgently. You kick the sheets off the bed, moaning when Seokjin takes hold of you to sit you up, frantically tugging his silk shirt off your frame to leave you both completely naked.

“Turn around for me,” he whispers; you bite down on your lip, trying to not seem too excited by what’s to come as you scramble to get on your hands and knees in front of him.

A little shiver runs down your spine at the way his hand smooths down your back and down the curve of your ass, your eyes shutting involuntarily at his touch.

“God, you’re so beautiful, _____.”

Seokjin leans down, the warmth of his chest like fire on your skin, pressing kisses to your shoulders as he pushes into you. The both of you groan, and you throw your head back against his shoulder, lips parting as he mouths at your neck.

Seokjin lets out a shaky breath when he’s fully sheathed inside of you, trying to maintain his composure but failing steadily, the way your walls clench around his cock doing nothing to help. You keen beneath him, letting out a whine as you wiggle your hips against his, stopping when you feel a firm hand grip your waist.

“Don’t,” he says, trying to sound firm, but his voice errs on the edge of a whine. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last much longer, _____.”

“I don’t care, baby,” you say, reaching up to curl an arm around his neck and press kisses to any inch of his jawline that you can reach. “Give it to me.”

You push your hips back again, despite his hold on you, and Seokjin groans once again, moving his hand from your waist to reach around and hold you close, giving an experimental thrust of his hips.

You gasp, before letting it turn into a moan, and Seokjin lets his hesitation dissolve, slowly building a steady rhythm with his thrusts. You feel your body start to rock beneath him, and you let go of his neck to plant your hand back down on the bed to steady yourself and keep you up, legs starting to tremble with the hint of your release slowly creeping up on you.

Seokjin’s fingers dig into your stomach, his breaths ragged against your back as he feels your walls continually clench around him. He digs his fangs into his tongue, trying to tamper down loud growls that threaten to spill from his lips, fully aware that the both of you are not alone in the house right now.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” you say, as if you’d read his mind.

“But -- fuck -- t-the others...” he replies weakly.

“Forget about them,” you say, turning to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Forget about them, Jinnie. I want to hear you. I want them to hear you.”

“God.” Seokjin throws his head back and groans quietly, hips still moving, before leaning back down to rest his head between your shoulders.

“Tell me how good I feel, Jinnie.”

“You feel -- ah -- fucking divine, _____,” he growls, hips picking up their pace as he starts to rock into you faster. “So good, sweetheart. Y-you’re mine. All mine.”

“I’m -- ah! -- yours, baby. Only yours,” you moan, loud enough to fill the room. “Always fuck me so well, Jinnie. Want you to fill me up.”

“God, yes. G-gonna fill you up ‘til your dripping.”

“Please.”

Seokjin’s hips move fast, cock thrusting in and out of you hard enough to have your moans stuttering as you keen, trying to match his pace and thrust back to meet him halfway. You fall to your elbows, back arching in a way that drives Seokjin’s cock in deeper into you, forcing a low, guttural growl to fill the room, no doubt being heard by the other occupants of the house outside too.

You bite down on your bottom lip, fangs digging into your flesh as you roll your hips and muffle a moan against the pillow beneath you, feeling the heat in your lower stomach build, the tension growing with each thrust into you.

Seokjin straightens up, hands gripping your hips and finding leverage to drive himself into you harder and deeper, throwing his head back with another growl, losing his rhythm for a split second when you clench your walls for a moment longer.

“Jinnie,” you whimper, hands gripping the pillows tightly. “I-I...”

Before you can say anything else, he pulls you up onto your knees and flush against his body, arms wrapped around your waist to hold you close. You can’t speak coherently anymore, head resting back against Seokjin’s shoulder, moans loud and unrestrained.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Seokjin whispers, lips pressed to your cheek as he continues to thrust up into you with a new found enthusiasm, headboard banging rhythmically against the bedroom wall. “Come for me.”

Your knees start to grow weak as the heat in your stomach builds, thighs trembling, chest rising and falling rapidly until you freeze in Seokjin’s arms, the tension exploding as you reach your peak and climax.

Seokjin can’t hold back any further, egged on by the way you call out his name, moaning loud enough to be heard outside of the bedroom. You whimper at the warmth that fills you when his hips completely still, and he lets out a shaky breath against your neck as he hugs you close.

“I love you,” you whisper, panting and pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek.

Yoongi groans once again when his fingers slip and press down on the wrong keys.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, scowling as he looks up at the ceiling, hoping that his negativity permeates through the walls and into you and Seokjin’s shared room. “I need to move out.”

#kim seokjin #jin #bts #bangtan #bts scenarios #vampire!au #r #anon

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dxmedstudent · 7 years

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Have you ever had some periods in your life where you felt pressure to grow up really quickly (i.e. be in relationships etc)? I'm nearly 20 and I kinda feel that way, I really want to focus on becoming the woman I want to be and shaping the type of life I want to lead before entering any potentially heavy relationships but I feel there's this massive narrative that I would be a latebloomer/infantile. Do you have any advice?

Hello, that’s a very interesting question, so you’re probably going to get a long answer. Please bear with my waffliness, hopefully my answer will cheer you up. I think growing up is immensely difficult, because you’re going through a huge change. Now, I know we technically become adults at 18, but did any of us really feel like grownups at 18? I certainly didn’t! Even into my early 20s, I still felt like I’d just left school! It was only in my mid 20s that I fully realised I was a proper grownup. And that’s scary, because suddenly you realise it’s your life to muck up however you wish. Until then, your life is pretty much laid out for you, and you’re waiting for it to really begin. The weirdest (and most freeing) feeling I remember from that time was looking down at my body and realising “this is me. I’m not going to get any taller. I’m not going to get any skinnier, probably. I’m not going to get prettier. I’m not going to get healthier. But it’s OK.” And I realised that a lot of the things that I hadn’t liked about myself when I was a teenager weren’t so bad, after all. I was OK, and that was enough. After the tumultuous time that is our teens, your 20s is a time when you really grow into being an adult. But it takes time to really get to know yourself and what you want out of life.

It can be hard when you compare yourself to your friends. For example, I was still in university on my second degree when some of my friends had gotten jobs, moved out and bought cars. A couple had even settled down. You know, grownup stuff. Meanwhile, myself and my other grad med student friends were living in student accommodation or with our parents, doing homework, and feeling a bit like our teens had gone on for way too long. You feel financially insecure as a forever-student. And a bit left behind. I personally gave quite a few clothes and things to charity because I didn’t want to feel like I was the same person as when I was in school. We reminded ourselves that we were working on our goals. Some of my friends felt very conscious of their ages, many still do. But my motto tends to be “If I am doing something I love, then that time is not wasted. You never feel that time passing is a problem.” So the key is to do what you love. Things that make you feel happy, and like you are advancing your life.Eventually, I moved out, got a job doctoring and stressing even more, paid bills and rent, bought a car and started worrying about planning for the future. Put more effort into looking after myself, and planning my career. And it didn’t really feel like it changed anything. I mean it did; life’s more complex and stressy when you take on “adult responsibilities” and the first year of doctorhood is like a yearlong panic attack. Bt once you get used to it, you realise that grownup life is overrated. You’ll be surprised at how not-different you feel even if you have all or most of the “grown up” milestones ticked off. The thing is, milestones such as these used to be something we hit earlier. You finished school (if you were lucky enough to study at all, not all my grandparents finished secondary school!), you got married, you had kids and settled into grownup life. Western terms, the expected order for the last few generations has been school - > university - >job - >house - >marriage - >kids. But give the financial sitation Millenials are left with, these things don’t always work out. We’re more likely to go to university than previous generations, which tends to correlate with a delay in settling down or having kids; it’s just easier to do those things once studies are out of the way, so lots of people wait. Having a house, or a job nearby is hardly guaranteed, so we all end up renting for longer than previous generations. You get plenty of people in the UK who are in their late 30s before they can afford to settle down in the traditional sense of the word. What I’m trying to say is that it’s not just you; our generations are acting differently, because the forces acting on our lives are different. So we have to be flexible in how we view adulthood. Most of my friends span between the mid 20s to mid 30s, with myself somewhere in the middle. By now, all of us have very different lives. Some got married young, a few have a child or two. some are in committed relationships, others are single. Actually, amongst medics I know, a lot more people are single than I ever expected. And for the most part, they are perfectly happy, with fulfilling lives. TV does not prepare you for the fact that your 20s or 30s isn’t like a romcom. Like on TV everyone just sort of meets people without any effort, and gets into longterm relationships, and everything ends happily ever after. It’s just not like that. Some of my friends have been trying so hard to be in the right relationship. For so many years. They had it all planned out; the guy, the kids, the house, all by 25. It just didn’t happen, but not for want of trying. It made me realise that there’s really no point in adding extra stress to ourselves about this, because it’s kind of outside our control. If you want to date, date, but please don’t force unnecessary arbitrary timeframes on yourself. Because feeling pressured risks settling just to get it over with. And when you know people who’ve settled or who’ve divorced by their mid 20s or early 30s it reminds you that you have to be really sure you’re in the right relationship. Getting married definitely isn’t just something to tick off your list. But also a reminder that you can’t predict everything that will happen; I’m sure those people didn’t see t coming. So worrying too far ahead won’t help. We can only take things one step at a time and hope for the best. Just today I was having a Whatsapp coversation with my former roomates and besties about how pressure to date coming from family is frustrating, because sometimes it’s just not a priority for you. My friend, let’s call her Squirrel, to give her due credit. She said something very wise: “ I’m really grateful to have a job that’s meaningful, and friends and interests, think if a person comes along to share that with great, but I don’t think it would be good to force it just to tick boxes.”And I think we all agreed, because we viewed dating pretty similarly. Personally, there have been times when I have been more committed to dating (and when you like someone doesn’t it just feel like it’s all you think about? XD) , and there were times when it was literally the last thing from my mind. Just like my friend said. And that’s true for most of my friends. Like, sitcoms don’t prepare you for the fact that sometimes you’re just happy to chill and don’t really feel the need to look. And that when you do look, your reasons might not be like they are on TV. TV has a lot to answer for in how it depicts being single, especially single women. I’m going to focus on single women who date men here, purely because the dominant narrative mostly ignores LGBT dating. Single women on TV are either bitter and angry or sad that they can’t get a man, or labelled too dysfunctional to be able to love. But in reality, people have lots of reasons for being single, just as they have lots of reasons for being in relationships. The more stuff you go through, and the more your friends go through, the more you realise it’s nothing like TV. Being single, dating, being in a longterm relationship; all of these can be either happy and content, or miserable depending on the circumstances in your life at that time. Sometimes we feel the need for companionship, and there’s no harm in meeting new people and seeing if anyone clicks; I’m not here to denigrate dating, or “looking for the one”, or wanting some casual fun. If it’s what you want to do, and many of us do. If you want to meet someone, then logically, you have to make an effort at some point. If you don’t feel the need for it right now, then you don’t have to do it right now. I promise you as someone who has spent a lot of time single, for the most part nobody cares. The older you get, the more you realise that people aren’t overly invested in what you do, not even your friends. Sure, I’m ecstatic if my friend is dating someone she likes, and I’l be the first to cry at a wedding (God I love weddings. The merest hint of my friends actually being happy makes me weak). But does it actually affect me if they are single; no, we just chill together. And if they have a cool guy, then we chill together in a group. Our teenage years are so full of judgement (like, I, a grown woman, still have hangups about music of all things, because of teenage girls), but when you reach adulthood and you get out of the claustrophobic school environment, you realise other people don’t really care as much as you feared they would. Any ‘friend’ who does judge you for being single is not a great friend. But I promise, they will be few and far between. I will grant you that family pressure can be real; my friends and I were discussing this in the context of parents wanting have grandchildren. Some of my relatives are incredibly pushy about the issue, offering to set me up with randoms they’ve picked out (er… no thanks) and generally constantly asking me about when I’ll get married, even at the most inopportune times imaginable. Like, they can be ridiculous. So I’ve NEVER told them ANYTHING about my dating life. I just smile and say “We’ll see.” and wonder to myself if they’d even get invited if I get married. People tend to view the age of 30 (or 25) as a kind of deadline by which to have achieved all your dreams. It really isn’t! So go for what you want to do now, and just remember to evaluate your priorities once in a while. These are my simple rules:1) don’t leave anything you value as essential in last place. 2) You choose what is important to you. 3) The order of priorities can change at any time; go with your heart. 4) don’t wait til everything is perfect in your life, in order to do the things you want to do. Because it’s easy to get wrapped up and not realise that what you want has changed. If you ever feel that being in a relationship or having kids has become more important, then bring it up a few levels in priority. Now, we all know that there’s a sort-of time limit on having kids, but 20 is not it. So if it’s something you really want, then don’t leave it til your late 30s to start dating. But otherwise, just do what you want to do now. If you want companionship, just see where meeting people for fun goes. If you would rather focus on work, then do that. But remember that if kids or a relationship are really important to you, you may have to prioritise them eventually, in order to stand a chance at having them happen. For some people they are an extra. For some they are essential. For some, they are the last thing they want! Only you know how much things matter to you.Think about what you want out of life, and take little steps towards achieving it bit by bit. As long as you’re working towards the goals that you value, then your life will be an interesting journey that you’ll enjoy along the way. I hope your journey is awesome :)

#askdx #ask dx

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judeonthemove · 6 years

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Livin' La Vida Locomotive

I'm not sure why I expected Ecuador to be a bit less developed than Peru, but I did and it isn't. The niceness of Baños wasn't an anomaly, which has been handy considering we'd discussed treating this month as more of a holiday. For our wedding anniversary we treated each other to some time apart and I went off to investigate the eponymous thermal baths of Baños. I jest of course, but the longest we've been out of each other's sight in nine months was just under four hours when I climbed Sydney Harbour Bridge. This is not natural by anyone's standards.

For those of you who've had the pleasure of visiting the Thermae Spa in Bath, you need to clear your mind of that image. Baños baths are an altogether more basic proposition of four outdoor pools: one clear and cold, and three murky ones at the Goldiloocks temperatures of tepid, hot and cauldron. The hot water comes courtesy of the nearby volcano Tungurahua, while the cold water arrives direct from the waterfall above. $3 gets you an entry ticket and compulsory natty pink swim hat, but no instructions. I stared cluelessly at the watery chaos for a minute, a symphony of concrete cancer and trip hazards, before throwing my things in a crate and finding what seemed to be the right place to leave them. I also stared at the hole on the lower level, empty save for a woman with a broom. One of the pools was closed, but which one? Getting to work with the remaining three I soon rejected the tepid pool as it was essentially children soup. I'd been looking forward to the challenge of the cauldron, but of course it was that one that was closed. That left me with cold and hot, so I concentrated on maximising the difference. In addition to the cold pool were a set of cascade showers fed from a pipe inserted into the waterfall. Most of the locals were avoiding the cold water completely, or tricking each other into standing under it and laughing at the screams. As the only gringo woman in the place I was pretty conspicuous as the person who actually seemed to enjoy the freezing inundation. After a couple of hours I was fully pruned up and couldn't justify waiting another two hours for the super hot pool to fill. I squelched back in the drizzle to make myself presentable.

We had a look at the museum attached to the cathedral, which featured a great display of pre-Colombian pieces, some unbrilliant art, the extensive wardrobe of the local Virgen figurine, and a hilariously creepy room full of taxidermy, religious art, toy vehicles and typewriters. I never need to see the stations of the cross juxtaposed with poorly stuffed pumas ever again. In keeping with the Alpine flavour of the area, we went for dinner at a Swiss restaurant, where I promptly mixed up stroganoff and goulash and ordered the wrong dinner. What a numpty.

Another emerging feature of Ecuador has been the predictable and efficient bus system. Everything's clearly marked and they leave on time. Most of the long distance buses, regardless of the operator, cost about $1-1.5 per hour so you can have a reasonable guess as to when you're going to arrive. With Ecuador being a compact gem of a country, there weren't going to be any arduous legs. Two or three hours up the road was Riobamba. We were due to stay a couple of nights in order to play on the restored train line. What our guidebook failed to mention was that since it was published, they've changed the schedules and the daily train now runs from a town two hours further away. Whoops. We had no trouble entertaining ourselves in Riobamba and had a well timed visit to the city museum and gallery, while an orchestra rehearsed below. Having not heard any orchestral music since Australia, the sound brought a grin to my face and a tear to my eye. The snowy peak of volcano Chimborazo emerged from its cloud shrouds to loom in proprietary fashion over the city. Back at our hostal, the owners' confident small daughter assailed us with an incomprehensible monologue and barrage of questions and/or instructions that we were incapable of responding to. Bored of rearranging piles of unread Gideon bibles among the pot plants and fed up with my refusal to biro in them on command, she hid our room key and hit us both on the head with a stick. Highly entertaining but nevertheless a great reminder of why we don't have kids.

Alausi is a little town with a big claim to railway fame. Halfway down the newly restored Quito to Guayaquil line, it sits above La Nariz del Diablo (The Devil's Nose). I'm very partial to an epic train journey, and what this lacked in length it certainly made up for in engineering and sheer bloody-mindedness. Around two thousand men died to create 12kms of switchback track, descending an 800m rock face. We arrived in town and were most joyful to find that the train tracks ran up the middle of the street we were staying on. A couple of hours later and we were ensconced in a classic wooden carriage, slowly making our way down a cliff. My camera chose this moment to start malfunctioning with a blank screen, leaving me pressing the button and hoping for the best. As this is basically the extent of my photographic skill anyway, it didn't make a great deal of difference to the results. At the bottom was a little station with retail opportunities and a couple of horses and llamas to be used as photo props. The horses looked very much over it, but the llamas had some spirit left and concentrated on being noncompliant. We hid from the souvenir frenzy, but I got drawn in when the traditional dance display took a turn for the interactive. James stayed safely on the side-lines, in charge of incriminating pictures. Back in Alausi we checked into our lodgings and discovered that even the glowing reviews had not prepared us for how nice a hostal it was. Brand new contemporary styling, spotlessly clean, delicious breakfast, and with a massive comfy bed. I immediately declared that I was to be transported around Ecuador in said bed from then on, and it was with some regret that we moved on after one night. Rough calculations told us we had time to get to everywhere we wanted to see, but only if we kept rolling.

The route to the city of Cuenca assailed us with more handsome scenery than is seemly, scrolling down in scale through Alpine, Scottish Highlands, and Lake District. In a clear contrast to previous countries we've visited, there don't seem to be Inca-style terraces here. No matter how steep, the fields follow the line of the hills and are separated by shrubs or trees. The result is a verdant cornucopia of produce and a very different look to the countryside. The southern city of Cuenca was elegant and cultured, and we'd hoped our hostal with integral bar-restaurant would make for a lively weekend base. The hitch in this otherwise sound plan was the profoundly intrusive noise bleeding into all the bedrooms. We were prepared for the late night music, and indeed made good use of happy hour and the tasty menu on offer. What was less manageable was the 6am pounding rock wake up call. I shambled, incredulous, into the restaurant area to find the source was actually next door. A staff member told me with a shrug that their neighbour did it every day. And he did. Clearly there was some beef going on, resulting in the hostal guests being tortured with a sleep deprivation spit roasting. On the second night we coped by playing our own loud music which worked really well and still couldn’t be heard by the other guests over the general din. There is music everywhere in Ecuador, but the ‘80's and ‘90's pop and rock fetish of the rest of South America is not such a thing here. As such I have had withdrawal symptoms from the tracks we've heard most days since May, and James kindly downloaded Alphaville’s ‘Big In Japan’ to help with my DTs. I invite you to join me in my obsessive earworm: https://youtu.be/tl6u2NASUzU. Five hour sleep window notwithstanding, Cuenca itself lived up to its Unesco hype with beautiful colonial architecture, galleries and museums. A riverside walk took us further out to the suburbs. Cuenca was clearly one of the wealthiest places we'd been in months, as suggested by the number of aesthetic dentists, gyms and plush interior design studios. Strikingly as we left, our bus drove for miles before we saw anything like the simple breeze block and wood homes we've been accustomed to seeing.

Our flying visit to Ecuador's second city, Guayaquil, was achieved thanks to a stunning bus trip up and over the Parque Nacional Cajas. Sat on the continental divide with roads winding up over 4300m the first couple of hours was textbook glaciated landscapes of u-shaped valleys and interconnected lakes. My geography teachers might have despaired at my sixth-form attendance rate, but they did instil an absolute love of this stuff. Pine trees and eucalypts gave way to a tight, spongy carpet of mosses and tough grasses as we ascended into the clouds. With ears popping, our water filter bottles leaking under the pressure strain, and the inevitable altitude cough, I tried to make a mental note to be ginger with my deodorant. Every time we do this I forget, and end up with an unfortunate looking cream explosion in my armpit the first time I dislodge the roller ball. I forgot yet again of course, because travelling turns you into an in-the-moment goldfish brain. A brief stop at the top with the mists rolling and burning off in the ravines below allowed the poor bus a bit of a breather. Heading off again, we must have passed through some magic geography portal as we were straight into lush cloud forest. A great deal of down was followed quite suddenly by dead flat as we proceeded across to the coast. Acre upon acre of cacao, banana and pineapple plantations baked in the sun.

Guayaquil itself was a thriving, sprawling port city and we had one and a half days to get acquainted. We focused our efforts on a park full of iguanas, the expansive riverside promenade, the excellent free museums and galleries, and a pretty hillside neighbourhood topped with a stripy lighthouse. Our cheap as chips flophouse next to a main road was still quieter than the aesthetically pleasing but acoustically offensive hostal we'd had in Cuenca. The modern art gallery had an extensive ethnographic section and we became mesmerised by a documentary about a group of men who sailed from Ecuador to Australia on traditional balsa wood rafts. We sat there for over an hour, prompting a security guard to come looking for their missing in action visitors. When you essentially don't have anywhere to live, there's a risk of being in constant motion. Just sitting in a quiet place, and getting immersed in something can be a real treat. Guayaquil was our gateway to the beach, so off we went again. The scenery may have been unprepossessing barren-looking sand and gravel, but it showcased the quality of the highway. Uniquely among the South American countries we've visited, across Ecuador there are subtle hints of coherent government planning and investment. From the ubiquitous rainbow branding onwards, there is a feeling of continuity despite the radically different terrains of the forest, mountains and coast. The excellent road and bridge system is one of the most obvious indicators of massive infrastructure spending, but it's also there in the schools, healthcare facilities, emergency services provision, free museums and public spaces. It seems to connect the country without homogenising. It feels lovely to visit, and I hope that translates into the experience of actually living here as Ecuador recovers from the financial troubles of the recent past.

The highway wasted no time delivering us to tiny Oloncito. Unlike most of the Pacific coast of South America, Ecuador is blessed with inviting sandy beaches so this was the first opportunity for a sea swim in four months. I say swim, but the water was really more suited to surfers, so jumping around trying not to get knocked flat by waves is probably a more apt description. Our hostal was one of those quirky labours of love, set in a tropical garden with lots of knick-knacks, hammocks, great carpentry, and inventive use of concrete. Unusually, the building we were staying in was complete, but more typically one of the others was a work in progress and another had been left with the classic concrete uprights and sprouting steel reinforcements look. Imagined but never realised upper floors are the quintessential South American building practice. We were the sole guests, which suited us just fine. Down with another cold, I took the opportunity of spending a day with nothing more pressing to do but nap. Suitably rested, we spent the next day walking on the beach, chaperoned by the resident dog Dixie. Like most of the numerous dogs in these parts, Dixie was nominally owned but free to do as he pleased. What pleased Dixie was accompanying guests wherever they went, so he'd been for lunch at a beach cabaña, showed us round Olon, and now came miles up the beach. Dixie busied himself inspecting all the corpses of huge sea birds, puffer fish, and a big turtle. Nervy orange crabs scattered as we approached, flitting into holes in the sand. We turned round as the tide reached the top of the beach, and Dixie spent the return journey accelerating wildly into the surf chasing birds. I don't spend much time with dogs and am not generally a fan, but it was a great pleasure and entertainment to be in Dixie's company. Fully in holiday mode we committed the evening to good food and sangria.

Our nine month travelling anniversary saw us reluctantly crowbarring ourselves out of Oloncito and moving a not too challenging hour up the road to Puerto Lopez. Having found our brick and bamboo hut at the northern end of the tourist town, we alighted upon a seafood restaurant for lunch. Said restaurant had a resident floofy cat and we required little persuasion (read none) to share our laps and food. I have no poker face when it comes to cats anyway, but my desperation for mog company is utterly shameless now. Puerto Lopez was well stocked with felines so there was plenty of chances for a fuss. The sea off Puerto Lopez was well stocked with whales, another fluky bit of timing on our part. The obligatory boaty day trip took us out to sea and for a visit to Isla de la Plata. We'd been given a 100% guarantee of seeing whales, which boded well, but we tried to manage our expectations. An hour off the coast and there were humpback whales everywhere. The helm did a great job of manoeuvring into good positions so we could watch these magnificent creatures sliding through the water. I'm not sure you'd ever tire of whale tail salutes. Moving on, we visited the island for a couple of hours hiking and bird watching for nesting blue-footed boobies and frigate birds. I'm not sure you'd ever tire of the amusement of hearing the word ‘boobies' repeatedly. The birds were entirely unfazed by the visitors admiring their big turquoise feet and fluffy chicks. Turtles had surrounded the boat when we arrived, and afterwards we went round to a bay for snorkelling and general coral and fish wonderment.

Much as it would have been nice to tarry by the sea, we bid our final farewell to the Pacific and embarked on a ten hour, three bus slog into the mountains. Although a long day, it all went very smoothly and we had the entertainment of passing through the marvellously named Jipijapa on the way. It was only over the last couple of hours that we gained altitude, but once the climb began it did not muck about. Sunset found us above the clouds, like a duvet of pink candy floss, before the bus picked its way across to Zumbahua in the dark. Chucked off on the highway, we zig-zagged down into the almost deserted town and found a bed for the night on the square. Finding any tea was a little tricky as the only clearly advertised restaurant wasn't serving. Next door, in what looked like someone's tiny front room were four tables and a lady serving a great value set menu. Starving, we gratefully dug into the soup, chicken and refreshing chicha morada (purple corn drink) before heading to bed. Morning revealed Zumbahua to be no more busy by day, but we found a corner cafe where another lovely indigenous lady conjured up everything she had on offer for breakfast: pastries, chicken and rice, boiled eggs, juice, tea and coffee. It was a good job she did, as it would be twelve hours before we had anything else.

Zumbahua sits on what is known as the Quilotoa Loop, a multi-day Andean hiking route. Quilotoa itself is a volcano and while we were too time strapped for the full loop, we were keen to visit there. Waddling away from breakfast we caught a lift up the road. Quilotoa village appeared to have had a very recent and very comprehensive redevelopment, resulting in something of a The Prisoner does Middle Earth vibe. There was little going on, which served to heighten the undeniable presence of the rim. Picking our way in slightly the wrong direction through a stony car park and building site, we found the main viewing area. It was, exactly as advertised yet still difficult to believe, a ruddy great volcano crater lake. So we stood there admiring it, both starting to wonder what else we were going to do with our day. Well there was a path...and maybe we could walk round the rim for a bit...and well we're at least a third of the way round now and that high bit over there looks just about manageable...

Seven hours later we were chasing the sunset back into Quilotoa, James just about still with a spring in his step, and I with legs of jelly and lead. Sometimes you really question your own sanity. Our circumnavigation had been quite a scramble round the narrow ridge, on a path primarily featuring powdered granite. Asthma plus my latest cold did me no favours whatever, and we realised part way round that this was the highest elevation yet that we’d done vigorous exercise at. The high bit reliably informed us it was 3930m, which I appreciated from my position sprawled on the ground under the sign. You certainly value your views when you've worked for them. Vast rolling mountain landscape surrounded us, striped with fields and rent with canyons. Vibrant flowers, grasses and heather-like shrubs softened the vertiginous drops on both sides. Intermittent clouds behaved themselves but painted the lake a steely emerald. Pine and the woody scent of burned stubble filled the air around the crunchy path. Given that my dodgy knees make me less mountain goat and more Professor Yaffle on slopes, it wasn't the most elegant or proficient descent. Content that we had done the volcano justice, we negotiated a lift back to Zumbahua, squished in the front seat of a pickup. Evidently, Tuesday nights in Zumbahua are even quieter than Mondays, so we had to content ourselves with a beer, then crisps and chocolate for dinner, from one of the very local local shops.

A chilly, sunny day greeted us as we exited our guesthouse the next morning. A sheep trotted across the deserted square. We eschewed the chance of fried fish for breakfast and went straight up to the highway to wait for the bus. The bus was already there so it all proved mightily efficient. A couple more hours of gorgeous mountain scenes, with occasional llama spottings and a good workout for the brakes, and we were down in Latacunga. There was no particular reason for us to visit this city near Cotapaxi volcano, but it seemed like a sensible stop on route to the north. We found somewhere to stay and were pleasantly surprised to be overlooking the main square. The rest of the day involved eating and TV, which was just what was required. Evening entertainment came courtesy of an aerobics flashmob in the square, and the sight of a group of nuns enjoying a night out at the pizzeria, sitting below a large poster of the Vatican.

We bid farewell to Latacunga and set off for Mindo, a journey involving a bus to Quito, traversing the length of the capital from southern to northern bus terminals, and then another bus. Cloud cover blocked the potential view of Cotapaxi as we sped through the self-explanatory Volcano Alley. Quito snuck up quickly, but due to it's position in a twisty valley, there was no big reveal moment. The southern bus terminal was all gleaming airport-style modernity as we transited through to one of the cross-city bendy buses. Warnings about crowding and theft risk came to naught and we made it two thirds of the way up town before being turfed off and directed to another stop on a different line. Arriving at the northern terminal we needed, we were feeling pretty smug about being in time for the one o'clock bus to Mindo. The lady selling tickets, however, was not so confident. Our transactional Spanish has developed to the point where we can ask for things, which is fine as long as those things are available and the person doesn't really have to say anything to us in response. This was not one of those times. The one o'clock wasn't going to happen, but we had no idea why. Baffled by my blank face, the woman borrowed my phrasebook and managed “the way is closed”. This wasn't particularly enlightening so I gave up and had a grumpy, helpless sit down. James successfully procured tickets for the four o'clock and we sat for three and a half hours, contemplating the meaning of her gnomic proclamation. Later, sitting in traffic so bad that the driver turned off the engine and got out of the bus, we had some idea of what she might have referred to. As we were just five hundred metres short of the equator, James posited that there had probably been a pile-up caused as all the vehicles turned the right way up for the northern hemisphere. We never did figure it out, but the road cleared, we took our latitude screenshots and the bus clambered off into the cloud forest in the failing light. It would have been a beautiful journey...on the one o'clock bus. Four hours later than expected, and after James narrowly avoided starting a barney with a nun as we tried to get off the bus, a nice cold beer was the only way to say hello to Mindo.

The morning brought hummingbirds and a large group of young Americans to our hostal. There's nothing like vocal fry grating around a hammock attic to cut through a lie-in. The hummingbirds however, were delightful, flitting and chirruping around. In the light of day, Mindo was revealed as a pretty little hippy town sitting in a bowl of forested hills. With only one road out, all other paved thoroughfares ended abruptly in trees, and were liberally decorated with snoozing dogs. We had a nice lazy day pottering around and avoiding the inevitable cloud forest rain. When choosing our accommodation we’d narrowed it down to two, both the same sort of price, and both with resident cats mentioned in the reviews (I told you it was bad), but plumped for the one with the great chill out area. The cat, a spirited little ginger, appeared when it rained and stood on my shoulders for a few minutes when I picked it up. The hostal owners didn't know what its name was or even if it had one, so we really weren't sure who had adopted who. We had vowed to be more active the next day, so set off in a cab up the mountain to the tarabita cable car. The cable car involved an open cage powered by a car engine. This led into a series of gorges full of prehistoric-looking plants, and waterfalls where you were encouraged to swim. An hour of steep forest paths later and we were at the top of a flight of waterfalls. James waited patiently as I insisted in swimming in each one on the way down. I became more soggy, dishevelled and excitable, until we ran out of waterfalls and hiked up to the cable car and back down the mountain. Needing to secure bus tickets for the next day, we went back via the high street, which involved passing the other hostal we'd considered. Surely we wouldn't happen upon Felipe, cat of Booking.com review fame. Of course we would! Felipe turned out to be a super-sociable ginger who fairly demanded a through belly rub. Mindo was full of cats, including at one of the general stores where we spied one nestled among the bananas. After a thorough shower, Saturday night proceeded in pizza and cocktails fashion.

Despite the excellent distracting cat action, we had managed to procure bus tickets, so it was off to Otavalo via the bus stations of northern Quito. Sunday traffic made this pleasingly straightforward and we were quickly through the city and heading north across the equator again. The seemingly brand new highway entered a huge, complicated valley which had been carved up and sprayed with more concrete than I've ever seen. The engineering involved was both shocking and impressive. We wound through the crumbly, cactus strewn mountains, chased by angry clouds and beat the rain to Otavalo. And here we are, in a third floor corner room with full on volcano panorama view. We've seen and done so much in Ecuador that it's exhausting just trying to remember it all. Only two weeks left now. We've gotta keep on keepin’ on!

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