quirky furniture

title ⟶ Here Lies You
summary ⟶ For some unknown reason, you are now Min Yoongi and Min Yoongi is now you and neither of you can figure out why or how you frequently switch places. 
pairing ⟶ min yoongi x reader 
words 11.8k
genre ⟶ humor, fluff, kimi no na wa!au
warning mentions of death
playlist here

a/n: this was honestly such a spur of the moment fic, but I couldn’t help myself after getting the idea to write it. special thanks to @stormae for listening to all of my ideas. I decided to dedicate this one to @inktae & @minful for being the amazing people they are, and I think it’s safe to say we all share the same amount of love for this movie. 

“I meet you. I remember you. Who are you?”


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the art of falling (8)

“I’m not trying to save you, you’ll have to do that on your own because no one can do it for you. Trust me, I know. Just let me be with you, let me stay with you while you do that.” 

Summary: Having stumbled across an art exhibition, she came to admire pieces of art work by Minho. Although she was not aware of this as he had been using a pen name. On a late night during one of her visits, Minho happens to be there too.

Part 7 | Part 9


“I’m sorry.” She apologized after a while. Taehyun stood awkwardly by her side as Minho took off for Sora.

“For?” Taehyun leaned a little to hear her better.  

“This. I’m sure you were out for some fun not… this.” She stole a remorseful glance at him, embarrassed that somehow, she got them both involved in the whole mess.  

“We couldn’t leave anyone like that.” Taehyun frowned. “Minho couldn’t leave you.”

“He rarely loses it, but when he does” Taehyun looked down, deep in thought. “It can get pretty rough. But it’s only because he cares.” 

Minho was nowhere in sight, leaving her alone on the couch that she spent the night in. It was only then that she felt somewhat small being in such a vast living room. She must have been too occupied last night to realize how spacious his home was. He had a quirky taste in the furniture that decorated his living space. Cartoon figurines, big and small, were carefully placed at odd corners of the house, making her smile quietly at how everything was a reflection of Minho himself.

You really are such a kid, she thought.  

However, the things he said last night certainly wasn’t that of one.

“Thank you.” He offered her a small smile. “I was at my wits end trying to find the right way to say that to you. But you beat me to it.”

“Minho

“I’ll wait.” He knew the words that idled patiently on her tongue, thinking that it was better unsaid.  “I know you need time, but don’t push me away.”

“I can’t give you what you want.” She wasn’t sure what it was that he wanted in the first place. They texted frequently, exchanging thoughts and musings about art and things related. Subtle hints of flirtations and innocent teasing were spared in between their conversations, but nothing more. At least, she liked to think.

No one could deny the fact that Minho seemed to be the outgoing type, a social butterfly that charmed his ways into people’s hearts without trying too hard. He had a questionable sense of humour that could make her cringe and laugh all at the same time. He possessed a certain kind of shyness, a soft heart beneath his stone-hard, charismatic front.

A part of her knew for certain that she wanted to know more.

Minho looked at her after a thought and sighed as if to brace himself. “I want whatever you want, whatever you give me. But I just want you to know that I’ll wait.”

She opened her mouth to reprimand but Minho had something more. “I’m not trying to save you, you’ll have to do that on your own because no one can do it for you. Trust me, I know. Just let me be with you, let me stay with you while you do that.”

She found herself wandering through his apartment and that was when she saw it. There was a hallway just around the corner where multiple pieces of artwork hung by the wall. Never in her life she had seen anything like it other than a museum, it was as if he had an entire mini gallery of his own.

The closing of a door paused her and she turned to see Minho appearing from behind her.

“You collect these?” She asked, pointing to the paintings that caught her eye.

“I do, yeah.” Minho slid his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, supressing a smile.

“Holy crap.” She grinned, her previous concerns of looking terribly out of place with her uncombed hair and a stinging black eye, long forgotten. Minho stared at her awestruck expression as if it was something he missed, making him chuckle out a grin of his own.  

“Do you like them?” He strolled down the hall with her while she observed the rest carefully.

She nodded almost too quickly with a smile too big.

Enamoured, Minho stopped in his tracks. “Pick one.”

“Are you kidding?” She faced him in an instant as she gaped, looking all sorts of perplexed. “One of these costs more than my tuition.”

Minho raised a brow, unsure of what to say next. Obviously brushing it off with a light scoff, she continued a few steps ahead until her nose caught the faint yet piercing scent of oil paint. Surely it didn’t come from any of these paintings, she thought. Whiffs of turpentine, sweet, became increasingly strong as she walked further towards the end of the hall. She realized that they had come to a small room, partially opened and she was convinced that there was a studio of some sort behind this very door.  

“Do you paint too?” She asked, staring back at him with a hopeful look.

Minho didn’t answer, her question left hanging heavily in mid-air.

Instead he grabbed her wrists, dragging her out of the hallway as he paid no mind to her curiosity.

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Let’s have breakfast.”


“Where have you been?!”

Sora blared through the entire place the moment she stepped foot into the apartment. She stared at Sora with eyes as wide as saucers, and drew a sharp breath.  

“I should be the one to ask you that, Sora!”

Sora held the same look on her face, utterly shocked at the state her roommate was in as she walked closer.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sora gasped, taking her chin to glare at her bruised eye. “Who did this?”

She ignored her spitting demand. “Where were you, Sora? Didn’t you get any of my goddamn calls?”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I only realized you were gone halfway there and I thought—” Sora was stammering at this point, it wasn’t like her. “My phone died and I figured you headed back but you weren’t home, y-your phone was with me and I didn’t know, oh god, I—”

“It’s fine.” Clearly in a state of shock, she helplessly softened and pulled Sora in for an assuring hug.

“You look like hell.” Sora cried out a pained whisper.

“You’re one to talk.” She retorted, swallowing back a laugh at Sora’s flushed and runny face, the girl close to choking on her own tears.  

“You’re unbelievable.” Sora snapped back at her teasing tone. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“It was an accident—”

Who did this?” She insisted once more, the lines on her forehead visible as she frowned at her beaten face.

There was silence when they held a painfully steady eye contact. She knew that if Sora found out the truth, she’d explode to a million bitter pieces. But then the girl pestered her until she caved.  

“Did you really have to play hero? Look at you.” Sora heaved a disapproving sigh. “That’s it we’re filing a report.”

“No.” Her hands flew out at the speed of light, grabbing Sora like she was terrified.

Sora shot her a stunned look. “Are you seriously defending the bastard?”

“I can’t do that to Minho. Can you imagine what it’d do to him if this got out?” Her voice cracked, almost like she was pleading and the look on Sora’s face shifted to a mixture of disgust and pity.  

“You were hit, assaulted. Besides, Minho’s innocent—”

“Sora, I can’t risk it.” She begged, brows deepening as they furrowed. “I’ll have a talk with Hyunwoo—”

“I can’t believe you just said that! There’s no way you’re going anywhere near him!” Sora’s voice raised to a falsetto, further gaping at her as if she just lost her head.

“You know what hurts more than this?” She ignored Sora once more, pointing a finger to her swollen eye. Everything felt numb at this point. “Minho. Seeing him look at me that way, the things he says. It hurts because I can’t do the same for him.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Sora’s words came to slap her, hard.

“I can’t. I’ve spent it all on someone else. I’m spent.” She looked away to the ground, voice barely above a whisper.

Sora looked at her best friend with a heavy heart. She wanted so much to say that it was all just an excuse. An excuse for her, simply because she didn’t want to risk going through the same thing twice. Not after spending all this time trying to fix and put herself together. And so Sora bit back her tongue, wrapped her arms around her shoulders as she began sobbing silently into the hug.  


“No, no, go away. I’m not talking to you.” Minho scooted away from Johnny who happened to find his feet rather interesting today.

The cat followed him nonetheless, nudging the rapper fondly by the leg.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Minho groaned, going down to lift her up in defeat.

“Do you know how hard it is for her to say that? All you did was lick yourself with your leg up.” He squinted at Johnny. “If only it was that easy for me, I’d gladly lift my leg up.”

“What the hell is going on?” Jinwoo cracked a laugh seeing the exchange. “Who’s lifting whose leg?”

I like you too the phrase played like a new favourite song in his head. Minho scrunched his face at Johnny.

You lucky thing you, he thought.

“Have you completely lost it after last night?Taehyun muttered from across the room, events of last night still visible in his mind.

“Put this on before we go out.” Seungyoon ordered flatly, flopping a face mask on Minho’s lap as he brushed past him. “Don’t want anyone asking questions about that lip.”

The leader was far from thrilled when he was informed about the incident, mostly worried for his member’s safety and how on earth was he supposed to explain this to their manager?

“Is she okay?” Seungyoon asked anxiously, suddenly feeling like he was the one responsible for all this.

“I hope so, she refused to go get it checked.” Minho replied, running a hand to the back of his neck like he was irritated.

“Of course, she wouldn’t you idiot.” Seungyoon tossed him a scowl. “So, what is this now? Are you two going out?”

“As much as I hate to say it, no we’re not.” Minho tipped his head back and stared at a spot on the ceiling.  

“You’re shitting me right?” Taehyun erupted, startling the boys in their seat. “I thought you were? The way you acted and—” He licked his lips in a haste, seemingly confused with the whole thing. 

“I know, Tae.” Minho raked one had through his hair, immersed with the thoughts of her.

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around how he met a peculiar stranger in a museum and was hooked on every word she had to say about art and its wondrous possibilities. Minho never longed for words like those that rung in her voice. Never wanted anyone’s attention as much as he did hers.  

“Who is she, Minho?” Jinwoo asked breaking the silence.

Just a stranger I met then.

Someone I can’t stop thinking about now.


“Have you seen it?”

“Seen what?”

“The news, Minho.”

Minho rested his head in between the safety of his arms.

“I was with Taehyun, no one else was there. I don’t know how this was possible.”

“Well it must be the other two then.”

“No, hyung. There’s no way she would

His head pounded trying to sink it all in.

“How about the other guy? The one who

“He was too drunk to even function.”

“Either way, someone tipped the media, Minho. Keep it low, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he held the urge to scream out his frustrations.

“Do I have to release a statement?”

“We’ll see what CEO Yang has to say.”


I am a fan of Henry Mills Swan Cassidy. It’s not his youth, but his strength of resolve, an ageless trait, that has him embark on a quest to find Emma. Henry is also AE’s projection of OUAT main theme of hope and happy endings.

When OUAT hit TV, the premise was so unique - whimsical yet twisted - grounded yet goofy. Family loyalty, true love, romance and sorrow, permeated the stories. As this show progressed, hints of Henry’s father swirled and danced in our imaginings.

Then Neal aka Baelfire, hit us in S2 - IT WAS WOW! The intro song, his quirky furniture,  apartment, the  aura of mystery surrounding Neal’s character and MRJ’s  acting, his expressive face conveyed despair, longing, surrender after reading THAT postcard.

Henry’s parents, Emma and Neal, one of those one in a million encounters that only happens when it’s True Love.

Those who couldn’t relate to these two star crossed lovers wanted fantasy romance - the chintzy ‘rose’ field, the pony tailed first date, the horse ride, the ring (tainted) thing. Two adults awkwardly ‘playing’ romantic. But romance does not mean love.

None of these scenarios can obliterate, besmirch or erase Swanfire because their love has been permanently woven into the tapestry of OUAT by AE and their writers!!

Who hasn’t held their breath when Emma and Neal looked into each other’s eyes - time suspended - true love is silent, deep, accepting, eternal.

Writing + acting = Swanfire enchantment.

Then Emma morphed into this hokey damsel in distress. Was this deliberate? Were the writers emphasizing the difference between strong, confident, self assured SF Emma vs anemic, confused, whiny CS Emma? Was it an indicator of True Love vs Rebound Romance?

Now that the '2  year intermission’ is over, and Di$ney and etc have been satiated - not for a nano second, do I think glimpses of Neal in S4 and S5 was to appease the Swanfire fans. The AE team know what they are doing. They are story tellers and good story tellers keep us gripped until the pivotal moment.

The “bold storytelling"  was to literally 'kill’ any 'hope’ of a happy ending for Swanfire (honourable mention OQ). Very clever writing.

When Neal was shown to have died, it almost - almost - made me lose hope that Neal would ever return. Emma confessed she still loves Neal, and the writers proved that in 221 and 306.

So I’m with Henry, a true believer of hope and happy endings. Swanfire will prevail.

3

The new Ikea 2014 PS series is targeted towards you professionals, and as I am one of those these products appeal to me hugely. They are small, compact and simple and yet utterly stunning at same time. The restrained elegance allows it to be used in any style of modern house, whilst each piece maintains some level of quirky character.