#the only easy thing is that people who DO listen to alternative genres are annoying enough about it to give all the info you want

[around-your-throat]

the thing that sucks the most is that you will finish the introduction and get half-way through the literature review before realizing the thing you're advocating for is actually just like. a bunch of baseless bullshit

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (11)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, ANGST, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

SERIES:  CHAPTER 10 | CHAPTER 12

"You don't have to pay me, Guk."

 Jeongguk shook his head instantly. Yoongi was being absurd. How could he not pay his older friend?

 "I know you have the money, but I can't just take ten thousand dollars from you, hyung." The younger boy pouted his lips.

Yoongi should know by now that Jeongguk hated owing people something.

 Debt of gratitude sucked. It couldn't be paid. Ever. Jeongguk didn't want that. He hated sleeping at night thinking that someone out there could manipulate his feelings—this was how he perceived debt of gratitude: a manipulation. It was because he felt like he was bound please the person who helped him. It was as though he needed to act in accordance to the likes of said person.

 "Fine." Yoongi shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care about any of this. "Pay me whenever you want,"

 Jeongguk snorted as your voice echoed inside his head. If you were here, you would tell Yoongi that he couldn't just tell his debtor to pay him whenever he wanted. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

 Civil obligations like this one was only enforceable for ten years. If Jeongguk couldn't pay within the said period, the obligation would then become a natural one—something that would only be paid out of conscience.

 Jeongguk shook his head. Why was he thinking about the stupid law? Why couldn't he stop imagining your pretty smile as you talked about certain provisions? Why was he hesitating to accept his hyung's money?

 And most importantly, why didn't he want to leave you now?

 Your soulmate loaned thousands of dollars from Yoongi just so he could pay the down payment for the apartment that he wanted buy. He promised himself that he would terminate the lease of contract with you after four months. He just couldn't live with you anymore.

 You were supposed to be temporary in his life; however, with the way you were invading his mind even though you weren't around, Jeongguk realized that you were his constant.

 You were the only person who could tolerate his bratty attitude. You were the only person who couldn't get mad at him. You were the only person who made him feel special and needy—Jeon Jeongguk needed your attention so much that he felt like had to run.

 He didn't know when it started, especially because he believed he was not over Red yet.

 Red.

 Was Red the reason why Jeongguk wanted to leave you?

 This was what you thought while clutching the paper on your chest.

 It hurt, but as usual you had to pretend like you were okay.

 "Your parents are back in their hotel," said by Jeongguk the moment he entered your apartment.

 He was back from the thirty-minute drive.

 Your parents were scheduled to fly to Jeju Island tomorrow morning.

 "That's good." You discreetly wiped your tears away, trying so hard to make your tone sound enthusiastic. 

 Your back was facing him since you were afraid to let him see you crying.

 You didn't want to pester Jeongguk regarding his plan to leave. You felt like he wouldn't appreciate the drama you would obviously bring.

  Jeongguk didn't deserve drama—not when it was clear that he was exhausted. He took care of you these past weeks. The only thing you could do was to give him a damn break even if it meant sleepless night as questions like 'why am I not enough?' clouded your mind.

 "Thanks, Jeongguk. Goodnight!" You hastily added, refusing to look at him as you made your way to your room.

 "Wait," he stopped you like the way he did earlier today. This time, however, he stopped you by breaking your heart even more.

 "C-Can I sleep in your room tonight?" Jeongguk swallowed the lump in his throat; his heart was beating so fast.

 You flinched.

 How dare he ask something so insensitive?

 "Why?" Your lips trembled as you finally found the courage to look at him. It was a wrong move, though. You couldn't do it. You couldn't look at him without tears filling your eyes.

 Looking at Jeon Jeongguk made you realize what you could never have: him.

 You were grateful he's averting your gaze. Jeongguk couldn't meet your eyes as well. He was embarrassed and afraid. What if you rejected him? He didn't have any reason to cuddle with you tonight. Jimin was right. Your parents were the solution to help you get back on your feet. It was as though they had some kind of power. You didn't look like you needed your soulmate to make you feel better anymore. 

 You were back to your old self.

 Sadly Jeongguk had no idea that you were just pretending. He didn't know that you were forced to be okay once again. He wasn't even aware that he was one of the reasons why you're acting like everything was fine.

 "I just want to make sure you're alright," his voice was barely audible.

 Jeon Jeongguk was a liar. The truth was you weren't the only one getting used to cuddling with each other. Jeongguk was also craving to embrace you—to listen to your controlled breathing and raging heartbeat.

 "Really?" You suddenly huffed, causing Jeongguk to flick his gaze at you.

 Your soulmate was a good liar, you were not.

 There's a point where pain was too much to handle.

 Jeongguk was staring at you with puzzled expression. His mouth went agape upon seeing the tears streaming down your face.

 "You want to make sure I'm okay so you can finally leave?"

 "What?" He furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding the words you just said. How could he focus on anything when all he could see was your tears?

 Jeongguk wanted to wipe your stupid tears, but you weren't letting him.

 You took three steps backwards when he tried to reach for your face.

 Anger, frustration, and pain. All of these are visible in your eyes. Your thoughts were poisoning your mind—making you imagine what you thought Jeongguk felt.

 "You...called my parents b'cause you're t-tired of me, right?" You slurred.

 You wanted to run to your room since you knew you couldn't stop speaking your thoughts anymore. This wasn't right. You told yourself you weren't going to make this hard for your soulmate, so why couldn't he do the same thing for you?

 Why was he cornering you? Why couldn't he just go away? 

 And why couldn't you stop the venom in your words?

 "You don't want to deal with me anymore. You want to leave but you're guilty. You feel like you are responsible for my pain," this must be it. You kept thinking what triggered his sudden change of behavior. It couldn't be because he finally realized that he liked you too.

 No. That couldn't be right. The only plausible explanation for this was because of the guilt he felt. He only started to act like he cared when you told him that he hurt you too.

 "That's not true..." But Jeongguk was quick to dismiss the negative thoughts inside your head.

 You inhaled deeply. Fresh tears stained your cheeks.

 "What's the truth, then?" You picked up the paper that would prove his intention to leave.

 It was too late to stop now. You were already acting pathetic in front of him. 

 "Why didn't you tell me you bought an apartment?" You continued to ask despite knowing the reason.

 You didn't. You were imagining things. What you think was different from what Jeongguk felt. Admittedly, his eyes widened. He wasn't expecting you to confront him about this. Hell. You weren't even supposed to find out this way.

 Jeongguk was planning to simply sign the contract to terminate your lease agreement with him, leave your apartment in the middle of the night and never come back.

 Guess he couldn't do it now, huh?

 "I-I," he trailed off instantly. How could he explain this to you when he himself didn't know why he wanted to leave?

 Jeongguk wished it was easy to face his emotions. He identified them, but he still didn't know what to do—not even after spending weeks cuddling with you.

 He needed to be alone, he needed to figure out what he felt and what this all meant to him on his own.

 "Is it me, Gukkie?" You sobbed and your soulmate's heart clenched.

 Your back was against the wall, Jeongguk was standing so close to you to the point that he could literally see the tears forming in your eyes.

 It broke him more.

 "Did I cross the line? Am I being too pushy? Annoying? Hard do deal with?"

 Jeongguk could only bite his bottom lip.

 You proceeded to list the things your former maids despised about you.

 "Is Miri too much too handle? Am I picky with the food? Is it hard to wake me up in the morning?"

 Jeongguk avoided your eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

 You noticed that he couldn't speak. Why? Was it difficult to admit the truth?

 "Or am I not buying you enough things?"

 The conflicted boy shook his head vigorously. You did not understand anything.

 "Do you need a new laptop? New clothes? Art materials?" You sounded so desperate. "Tell me, Gukkie. I'll do anything you want."

 "I don't need you to do anything." He said coldly as he moved away from you.

 Pain attacked your chest when you saw indifference dancing in his face.

 "You're still leaving me?" You quivered in fear. You were really pathetic. You said to yourself that you wanted him to go away, but the thought of him actually leaving made your stomach turn upside down.

 "Yes."

 It felt like an arrow shot you in the heart.

 How could he not stutter? Was he really decided to leave you?

 Jeongguk saw how his answer affected you, so he immediately defended himself.

 "I mean it's about right. I told you I'm gonna stay here for a few months. It's over now. I don't want to be your tenant anymore."

 "But why!" You whined. This wasn't fair! How could he decide without consulting you first? This was a reciprocal obligation. You deserved to know his reasons.

 Jeongguk scowled. He wanted to leave now. It was getting unbearable to see you cry—it was as though his chest was going to explode.

 "Do I really need a reason?" His frown deepened. "Can't I just leave because I don't want to be with you anymore?" A lie.

 "You're lying." You refused to believe him even if you knew he was telling the truth. This wasn't you. You weren't like this. It was unlike of you to keep pushing Jeongguk. You teased him all the time, but you didn't mean to make him uncomfortable. His happiness was your top priority.

 You swore you just wanted to know the truth. You deserved a reasonable explanation. He couldn't just say he didn't want to be with you. If he couldn't love you, then he should at least be able to respect you like a normal person.

 "Why would I lie—"

 "Because I'm your soulmate!" You cut him off. Your emotions were overflowing.

 Why couldn't you just let him go?

 "And I love you, Jeongguk." You cried. The table had turned. Just a few breaths ago, he was the one begging to touch you. Right now, however, it was you who was desperately trying to latch on him.

 Jeongguk pushed your hand away. He couldn't have you touching him. It would only make it harder for him to leave.

 "I love you so please don't leave me—"

 "You don't." He cut you off, flinching so hard because of how much he hated your confession. He felt like he was gonna puke.

 "I do, Guk. I love you—"

 "No!" Jeongguk insisted otherwise. He was being stubborn and it was irritating you.

 Who did he think he was to tell you what you felt?

 "You don't love me, okay!? You are wrong in all of this!" He took a step back. He was acting as if your touch was going to burn him.

 "You are delusional. Too caught up with the idea of soulmate that you failed to see the truth!"

 Jeongguk was shaking in frustration. He hated that he had to be mean just to make you understand things—similar to what Red did.

 "I can see the truth! I know the truth!" You carried on.

 He was the one being blinded here, not you.

 "You're just ignoring the signs, Jeongguk. The universe wants us to be together!"

 This wasn't a coincidence. You couldn't be wrong—not when he could see colors because of the love you felt for him.

 But he used this against you.

 "I am not your soulmate." His jaw clenched. "Your eyes can tell."

 You stopped breathing.

 "Your eyes tell." He repeated.

 Your mouth felt dry.

 It felt like you had been stabbed straight in the heart.

 If he was your soulmate, if he ever loved you—or cared, you would see colors by now.

 But no.

 You still see in black and white.

 Your eyes would not lie because Jeon Jeongguk was right....

 Your Eyes Tell.

[hanibalistic]

#507A9E | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | fluff, high school au, faint mutual pining, implied rich kid au

word count | 2190

warning | fighting, mentions of injuries

tag | @fluffyskzclub​

note | i miss hyunjin pt.2 // maybe a universe?

the first thing that popped into your head when you saw students running toward the school courtyard, whispering and chanting about a fight that had broken out, was that the person better not be hyunjin.

you knew hyunjin ever since middle school but you two only recently introduced yourselves to each other when your homeroom teacher made it your responsibility, as the class president, to keep track of him—both his poor grades and his even poorer conduct.

you two never had to chance to speak to each other before the beginning of your tutoring sessions. surely, even if you had the chance to talk to him, you would not have taken it with his rebellious reputation contrasting so stronger your clean-slate one. most of your encounters were of you frowning and sneering at him whenever you saw him get taken away to the principal's office, or when he and his friends create a ruckus during school assemblies.

your poor impression of him stayed long even after you began tutoring him in the corner of the school library, afraid that you would be seen together. he was always late, sometimes with a hazy attitude and sometimes with bruises and cuts on his face. he was always late to the sessions, but he was also always present.

on his third failed calculus test hyunjin came around.

you never knew why but he suddenly did a 360-degree turn and he came around. he started to pay attention in class and he paid attention to you, he did his homework and the additional questions you assigned him, he jotted down notes and read them during his free time. with the third failed test, he decided he would work hard for some reason.

he was still late to the tutoring sessions, though.

but! with his newfound motivation, you, too, came around and began seeing him in a much friendlier light. you greeted him in the halls, you talked to him outside of the library and about topics other than academics (like his adorable puppy kkami, who you adore more than hyunjin, not that adore the boy or anything), you two moved from the corner to the main study center of the library, and you learned to treat his wounds whenever he has them.

hyunjin became a good friend of yours, and he only listened to you, which you realized after a friend mentioned it to you. you thought it was preposterous, but the thought of it made your stomach flutter with faint romantic delight anyway, the knot in your throat refusing to admit out loud that you might just find him the smallest bit attractive.

like when he would smile confidently at his practice test as he hands it to you, only for it to turn into a cute frown when he watches you add cross after cross on his answers. or when he would arch one brow at you in acknowledgment, a boyish smirk playing on his lips, after you accidentally catch his eyes in the classroom during a long lecture. or when his solid, pressuring gaze lays itself on you as you tend to his wounds outside in the school garden, his eyes holding the gentlest of affection as he looks to you as the only person to have ever existed on this earth.

no, you are not attracted to him. not at all.

"excuse me–i'm sorry, excuse me!" you said as you pushed yourself through the overly excited crowd.

once you made your way to the front, your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed. there hyunjin was, hands clutching a poor student's wrinkled collar, and the scar under his eye reopened. it was him who got in a fight! you did not know why you hoped for an alternative.

there was a glint in hyunjin's eyes—something akin to happiness, a thrilling excitement, perhaps, like the freeing of his soul being trashed into the depths of his easy insults and clenched fists. there was no anger in him, not an ounce. you knew what his anger looked like when it was directed to another, and this was not it.

this was free will. he was fighting because his body could and he yearned for the temporary excitement of it.

you felt your heart sink a little. out of everything that could make his face light up like this, fighting people has to take the crown? you wanted hyunjin to be happy but not with such a method! you also don't want to completely strip the entertainment away from him either!

if you wanted him to stop, the best way would be to find something else that can make him feel as excited as he does now, but what could it be?

"hwang hyunjin!" you hollered when you saw him throw a punch at the other student, your thoughts vanishing immediately.

stomping forward, you grabbed onto the back of his shirt and yanked him behind you. you pushed the other student away, glaring at him to run away before you turned to hyunjin. you tilted your head then, looking at him carefully, then you walked toward him.

"oh, come on, [name]," he whined, preparing to move around you. "don't ruin the fun!"

"hyunjin–hyunjin, look at me," you said, putting your hands on his shoulders and stopping him from side-stepping you. when he focused on you, his eyes turning soft, you smiled. "stop."

he stayed silent for a second before he sneered. he tried to shove you aside. "move away–"

"hyunjin," you sighed, feeling the longing for movement in his body. "do you understand you did something bad."

"if you are trying to talk me out of fighting–"

"you understand," you interrupted him, "that you did something bad."

you could hear voices in the background criticizing you. you were unsure of what, exactly. it was either of you stopping the fight or of you assuming you could stop the fight by talking. you ignored the background noises and focused on hyunjin, looking at him expectantly. you just needed him to tell you he understands.

"jesus, yes! now move away–"

"great. then i'm so sorry about this."

hyunjin was about to side-step you again, adding force into his hands as he pushed you aside to search for the kid who ran off, but you removed your grip on him and took a step back to get into position. his confusion worked in your favor when you anchored your weight on your feet, and with a strong swing, you punched him square in the face, knocking him down.

you grimaced at the pain that reverberates through your knuckles, while hyunjin laid on the floor with his face covered by his hands.

"what the fuck!" he yelled into his hands, his head pressed against the grass field with a pained look.

you scoffed at him as you rubbed your hands together. you felt worried for a second, but then it cooled down when you came to terms that he has got to have experienced worse. it was not the impact of the punch that made him dramatize his reaction (although, surely it did hurt his pretty face) but the unpredictableness of the punch that did so.

he would be fine. he always was.

you looked around you, glaring at everyone who came looking for a show, and you waited for them to disperse before you return your attention to hyunjin.

"come on, let's go to the nurse's office," you said as you moved closer to him, knelt, and took his hands from his face.

not a single stain of your punch. it was all just the invisible pain and his tendency to exaggerate.

"you look fine."

"i'm not fine!" he retorted with a whiny shout, snatching his hands away from yours and sitting up. he placed his hand on one propped-up knee and turned to you, annoyed. "you punched me!"

"talking clearly wasn't doing the job, so i did what i had to do!"

"punching me is what you had to do? not call a teacher or something?" he exclaimed incredulously, eyes widening at you in disbelief.

you closed your mouth. you had not wanted to get him in trouble so you resulted in dealing with it on your own. he has a week-long clean streak of not messing with the teacher, you wanted to keep it that way. even though you failed to consider if anybody present would snitch on him, or you, or maybe even the both of you.

"yes...?" you squeaked as you ducked your head, then you slightly eyed up, grimacing at him apologetically. "i didn't want to get you in trouble."

hyunjin watched you through the silk of his long black hair. he took in your words; the way you said it so bashfully, and how you shrunk under the thought of you making a mistake on his behalf. he understood that it was ultimately your good intentions looking out for his own good. your contrasting naivety shone into his eyes, and he wanted to cradle your face in his hands and be gentle with you.

heaving a sigh, he leaned on his hand that supported his torso up. licking his lower lip, he shared a knowing look with you and asked, "you know how to throw a punch."

you scowled lightly then, playing with your fingers as you sat on the grass field. "yeah, my mom had me learn how to fight ever since i was young."

"that makes sense. self-defense is good."

"yeah," you breathed out a laugh, "a little more than that."

"hmm?"

"my mother has a very odd job."

hyunjin smiled questioningly but he didn't ask. he merely took a look behind you at the grand structure of the school he stumbled upon after his parent's death and he nodded in acceptance.

he was never supposed to enter an elite school like this, where every student seems to have some dark family secrets down their sleeves. dark secrets not as in family feuds and estrangements (although those were certainly present as well) but dark secrets as in blood money and corrupt authorities.

rich people problems, but make it guns and roses.

he would not be surprised if your family had some weird history hidden in the closet. what he was wondering about was how you got stuck in a normal middle school with him.

"is your nose okay?" you asked timidly, facing forward at him.

your expression made him recall the time he found you wiping tears from your eyes at the library, glaring at his failed calculus test as if it had been your own, and he realized that you did care and you weren’t doing this because you were asked to.

it made him remember how most things he has done—studying, paying attention, staring at you, not getting into trouble—have been for you.

he just could not control his habits sometimes and he hoped you wouldn’t get too upset with him today for missing the tutoring session.

hyunjin hummed. it was fine, the pain subsided long ago, but he would be damned to not take your concern to an advantage. pouting quickly, he twisted his torso and let himself fall on your lap. he could feel you panic above him and he giggled lowly to himself, his eyes closed.

"i feel dizzy, you might have given me a concussion," he said.

you gasped a little, then you denied, "no way, that can't be possible."

"don't invalidate my concussion," hyunjin said. "it is what i feel."

you sucked in a breath.

there is no point treading through that territory with him, there is no point treading through that territory with anyone.

sensing your silence, hyunjin dared to open one eye to peek up at you. you were staring down at him, eyes ablaze with curiosity as you waited for him to speak.

the sunlight fell like gold sand and split when it reached your head, casting sparks over you. almost a spitting image of an angel, if he knew what an angel looked like. 

your innocence was as gentle as his mother once was, and your determination a faint recall of his father's brightness. but your face was entirely your own; your eyes, nose, cheeks, lips. a kind face, a calm face, a face of someone he has come to fall catastrophically in love with.

hyunjin felt his eyes waver, he felt the warm watery dust his in eyes waver like flashes of lights seeping through gaps of leaves on a tree. his fingers itched to reach up to your face, to cradle you, to be kind to you, but he pressed them to his sides and only allowed himself a smile at your direction.

"i'm going to rest my face," he said.

you frowned, but the guilt of punching him asked you to stay with him, so you nodded. "okay."

hyunjin relaxed on the ground. his eyes were closed, but if they weren't, you would have seen—the thrill in his eyes of being able to be with you, the excitement of being close to you.

it would not be something akin to happiness, it would be happiness.

[jaehyunfirstlove]

Highway to Heaven - Ch. 6

Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.

Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

Warnings: Just some swearing

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @sehunniepot​ @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar​ @sleep-is-all-i-seek​ (send me a message if you want to be tagged)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A/N: No smut in this chapter, sorry :)

You woke to someone whistling, and looking over you saw Johnny packing his suitcase. When he saw movement from you he sighed dramatically.

“Well look who’s finally awake!” he said sarcastically, “come on and pack up, Y/N, time to head home.”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, feeling amazingly well-rested. You were in the middle of piecing together what happened the night before when Jaehyun emerged from the bathroom. He saw that you were awake, but then averted his eyes.

“I’ll go pack up the car,” he said quickly, grabbing Johnny’s suitcase right out of his hands, picking up his own on the way by, and sprinting out the door. Johnny looked at his retreating figure quizzically.

“What’s up with him?” he wondered, and then it hit you. The hazy events of the night before started to come back to you, but in flashes, like an erotic movie on fast forward. You felt the blush creep up your neck and onto your face, mortification the weakest description for what you were feeling at that moment.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath. What the fuck is wrong with you, you reprimanded yourself. You covered your face with both your hands, wondering if you could spend the rest of the trip like that and not have anyone question it.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Johnny called, walking out the door. You got out of bed and quickly packed up, taking a deep breath before you opened the door to face your fate. Your heart was pounding when you got to the car, and it absolutely sank when Johnny called out to you. “Hey if you don’t mind I’m taking the backseat, I didn’t sleep well in that bed last night so I wanna take a nap.”

You looked at Jaehyun, who was sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead. He didn’t turn to you when you got into the car, just put it in drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

---

There was a heavy silence for the first part of the drive, just the sound of Johnny softly snoring in the backseat. You couldn’t stand it anymore so you finally spoke up.

“Is it okay if I play some music?” you asked. Jaehyun nodded, his eyes never leaving the road in front of him. He also kept a death grip on the steering wheel, not his usual one hand on the wheel, one hand on the console between you. You could see his knuckles turning white. You had to address this before he combusted.

“Listen Jaehyun, about last night…” you couldn’t look at him as you spoke, but he didn’t respond, so you looked up at him cautiously. He looked like he was in pain. “I’m really, really sorry for making you do… that.”

“You didn’t make me,” he responded quietly, “I agreed to it.”

“Yeah, well, it was wrong of me to put you in that position. I’m sorry.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders finally slumping and his hands slackening a little on the steering wheel. “It’s okay, I didn’t mind. It felt nice to make you feel good like that.” He hazarded a careful smile as he finally looked over at you.

Again you didn’t know how to feel, should you be insulted that he enjoyed it, or should you be flattered that he wanted to make you feel good? It was all so maddening to you. His entire existence affected you in a way you’d never been affected by anyone or anything before in your life. Just his presence mere inches from you had an exhilarating effect that you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yeah, well, thanks then, I guess.” You really didn’t know what to say at that point.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely.

“Let’s forget about it then, okay? We can pretend it never happened, and I promise I won’t ask you to do anything like that ever again.” You looked at him expectantly.

His face fell slightly, his smile faltering, but he quickly regained his composure and nodded. “For sure, not a problem.”

Wanting to change the subject and also to fill the silence you picked up your phone. “Hey, what’s your instagram?”

He looked over at you in surprise, before he turned back to the road and smiled. “It’s just my name, I’m boring like that.”

You opened instagram on your phone and quickly found him, pressing the follow button. You scrolled through his page, filled with pictures of the night sky, and not much else.

“Wow, you really are boring,” you teased, but as you scrolled you came across a picture of him. He was sitting at a table, probably in a restaurant, the person taking the picture sitting directly across from him. He had his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the picture taker with a soft expression. “Hm, this is a nice picture of you.”

He looked over to see which one you meant, and just nodded. “My ex took that picture.”

“Which one?” you scoffed, and you instantly regretted your words when you saw how his face fell.

“Sorry,” you said in a meek voice.

“No, it’s okay, I deserved that.” He sighed. You should have left it, it really wasn’t your business, but you were dying to know.

“What’s the story anyway? With all those girls that you date. Are you really a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type of guy?” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing the subject itself was anything but light. He was quiet for a long time and you thought he might be mad at you for asking. “Forget it, sorry I asked.”

He blew out a breath, and you really thought he was going to lay into you, but instead he poured out his heart.

“It’s, um, it’s a problem, for sure,” he began, and you involuntarily leaned closer as if he was going to tell you the secrets of the universe, “I thought I could find, you know, ‘the one’ as they call it, but it turned out to be harder than I thought. Not that I thought it would be easy, but I figured she was out there, you know? But with each person I dated, I just wasn’t feeling it.”

“Were you being too picky maybe?” you offered.

He nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, yeah? I thought maybe I should give it a chance sometimes, but why prolong something that you know isn’t going anywhere? I usually knew by the end of the first date.”

“So wait, all of these women were just first dates?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“So…. you weren’t, you know,” at this point you made a hole with one hand and the motion of your finger going through it with the other. If Johnny were awake he would have smacked you upside the head for being so juvenile.

Jaehyun just shook his head. “No, I didn’t have sex with them.”

You were floored. All this time you thought he was a sex machine, thinking he was bringing these women home to bed them and that’s why you and Johnny couldn’t hang out at their place.

“So when you were bringing them back to your apartment and Johnny and I were banned from hanging around, you weren’t banging them?” you had to ask.

He laughed. “No, I was cooking for them. It’s my thing.” He shrugged.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d had the wrong idea about him all this time, just like Johnny had said. You could hear Johnny’s voice in your head: you have the wrong idea about him, Y/N. Your mouth dropped open in shock. You could already hear Johnny gloating: told you so, told you so!

“It’s so lame, I know,” he chuckled humorlessly, “the last one really threw me though.”

“Why?” you asked, sincerely curious, “Did you have feelings for her?”

“No, it was the same story, but this time I decided to give it a chance. It got to the point where she really fell for me, but I couldn’t reciprocate her feelings and I felt terrible. I had to break it off, and she was furious. She blamed me for leading her on, told me I was a ‘lost boy who would never find love’ and threw me out of her house. I was at my lowest point and Johnny felt bad for me, so he suggested I go on this trip with you guys. So that’s why I’m here.”

You instantly felt like a sack of shit. Not only did you misjudge him so badly, you treated him like crap when all he needed was a fun time with friends.

“Oh fuck, I’m so lame,” you cursed yourself, “I’m so sorry.”

He smiled weakly. “Johnny told me what you thought of me, he said I should explain myself to you but I figured people believe actions over words, right? So I thought I could charm you but that backfired magnificently.”

You could only laugh. The two of you were like two dumb peas in a pod. “We’re both lame,” you lamented dramatically, at which point he threw his head back and laughed, a sound so beautiful to your ears you wanted to bottle it and keep it forever. Not to mention that when he laughed like that, the dimples in his cheeks got impossibly deep and his nose scrunched ever so cutely. You knew you were in deep trouble now.

“What’s so damn funny?” Johnny had woken up and clearly was not happy about it.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun looked in the rearview mirror to address Johnny, “Y/N was being funny.” He looked over at you and winked, you stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Johnny watched the two of you, the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement.

“Wait, does that mean the two of you are-” here he slapped his hand over his mouth in shock, “friends now?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, “I know this was all part of your plan. Go ahead and gloat, I’ll just ignore you.” You put in your airpods and pretended that you were listening to music.

“Finally!” Johnny yelled, clapping Jaehyun on the shoulders, “Told you she wasn’t a stuck-up, judgmental, annoying little brat!”

“Hey!” you turned around and punched him hard in the shoulder, “I heard that!”

---

For the rest of the drive Johnny alternated between expressing his relief at the two of you finally getting along, and teasing you about Jaehyun’s charms.

“You know that Jaehyun can cook, right? That means he’s good with his hands.” Johnny stated, smirking at the innuendo. If he only knew, you thought. You looked over at Jaehyun and his ears had turned red.

“I’m sure he is.” You couldn’t help yourself. Jaehyun shot you a panicked look, before he laughed nervously. “Maybe I can come over one day and you can cook for all of us.” You looked over to see his reaction. 

He smiled widely and nodded. “I’d love that.”

“Look at this! We’re all one big, happy family!” Johnny put his arms around both you and Jaehyun’s shoulders. You looked at your best friend and smiled. He was genuinely happy. You could only imagine how upsetting it was for him to have two people in his life who were very important to him, not be able to get along. You felt bad for putting him through that just because you were stubborn, and just as you were about to open your mouth to apologize he dropped a bomb. 

“And since we’re all so close now, we can all share the one king size bed in the motel tonight since it was the last room I was able to get.” He winked and shot finger hearts at you, and you wondered if there were any good places nearby to dispose of a body.

---

He was true to his word that night, climbing into the bed on one side and motioning for you and Jaehyun to get in with him.

“Come on in, I don’t bite. But I can if you want me to.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Jaehyun played along, giggling and covering his mouth demurely with his hand. You rolled your eyes. They really did belong together.

“You get in the middle then,” you addressed Jaehyun, “so you two lovebirds can be together.” Jaehyun laughed and got into the bed, and you followed, turning off the lights. With the lights on the mood could be playful and fun, but as soon as it was dark the seriousness of the situation hit you. You were so keenly aware of Jaehyun’s body beside you. You could hear him breathing, could see his chest rise and fall in the dim light. You could smell the faint musky scent of his cologne. There was no way you could fall asleep.

Jaehyun seemed to be having the same problem. Because of the lack of space, he wasn’t able to bring in an extra pillow to hug to help him fall asleep. He tossed and turned, sometimes kneeing or elbowing Johnny in the process, but Johnny slept like the dead and would only grunt and then turn over. This wouldn’t do.

“Do you need to hug something?” you whispered.

“It’s okay, there’s no space. I’ll manage.” He reassured you. But he sighed, and so you mustered up your courage.

“You can hug me, if you want,” you offered, “Just hug.” You felt like you should specify. He was quiet for a while so you thought he’d fallen asleep, but then you felt him turn towards you, his arm snaking around your waist.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he whispered in your ear, and you involuntarily shuddered at his proximity. He felt good. His arm around you felt good. His body firm against your back felt good.

“Yeah,” you answered him, closing your eyes and finally giving in to the feelings you had been trying to hold back. “I’m really sure.”

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried. 

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now. 

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung. 

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police. 

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact. 

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions. 

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” 

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back. 

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either. 

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?” 

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing. 

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.” 

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly. 

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.  

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos. 

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.” 

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone. 

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly. 

“Well, do you know where she is?” 

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.” 

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers. 

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.” 

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!” 

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.” 

A victim? 

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.” 

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he? 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest. 

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up. 

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days. 

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?” 

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge. 

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.” 

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.” 

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—” 

“No.” 

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do. 

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand. 

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace. 

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home. 

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life? 

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went. 

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well. 

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands. 

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.” 

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.” 

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.” 

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it. 

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you. 

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you. 

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees. 

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.” 

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole. 

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.” 

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much. 

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.” 

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them. 

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”  

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.  

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.” 

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.” 

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.” 

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.” 

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.” 

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.” 

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out. 

“So does your Jungkook do film too?” 

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.” 

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—” 

“God this is so weird.” 

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?” 

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.” 

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?” 

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.” 

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.” 

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.” 

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch. 

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt. 

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly. 

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely. 

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.” 

“Done and done.” 

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast. 

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. 

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.” 

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.” 

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you. 

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection. 

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?” 

“Will you… fall in love with me again?” 

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”  

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer. 

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.” 

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.” 

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.” 

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.” 

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time. 

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face. 

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile. 

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.” 

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.” 

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1. 

When you wake up, it’s loud. 

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals. 

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months. 

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand. 

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!” 

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice. 

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!” 

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that. 

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning. 

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.” 

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!” 

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion. 

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?” 

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.” 

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook. 

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed. 

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip. 

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.” 

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you. 

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you. 

[whitesparrows97]

A Thousand Springs – Part 1

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, fluff, smut, fantasy

Summary: Life is short. Eternity is long. Why you in particular are approached by a super attractive man in a club, you did not understand. You understood even less why he wanted to kill you. Fortunately, seven young, also incredibly handsome men show up to help you with this little problem. Purely by coincidence, of course. Or do you really believe in fate?

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 3.6K

Next 

(picture credit: photograph by Mok Jung Wook for TIME Magazine)

Loud music poured out into the cold night, every time a group of people passed the bouncer and went into the club. Yet again you stepped forward a few steps. It’s been going on for about half an hour. You and your best friend Alison needed to pick one of the most popular clubs in town. Especially on a Friday night you might have expected that you would have to wait a while. You were annoyed that you hadn’t thought of taking a jacket with you. 

To give your body some warmth, you wrapped your arms around yourself and jumped a little on the spot. Alison didn’t seem to have a problem with the cold or the long wait. On the contrary. She beamed with happiness and looked at the queue before you with sparkling eyes.

You also watched the people before you, but not with as much enthusiasm as your friend. They were the typical partygoers. You immediately realized that the other girls probably had been standing in front of the mirror several hours before to get ready for the night. You, on the other hand, hadn’t even known you were going out tonight until an hour ago. Alison had more or less talked you into it and you had just enough time to trade your sweatpants and shirt for something more appropriate.

You felt out of place to say the least. 

Although you should actually study for your next exam, you were persuaded by Alison to come along tonight. However, something had told you that you should go out with her tonight. You often felt like you missed out on life when you were constantly sitting in front of your computer at home or lying in bed thinking about life.

You just weren’t the type of person who liked the hustle and bustle of people and loud music. Not like Alison, who probably felt more at home on the dance floor, crammed between strangers, than in her own four walls. And sometimes you envied her for it. She made everything seem so easy, while you had to reconsider every little thing.

Once again you were able to take a few steps forward and you realized with relief that there was only one group before you. Soon you could finally go back into the warmth and you were never so happy to finally enter a club. But this joy did not last long when you two entered the narrow, dark passage inside the nightclub. Only colorful light tubes, which were attached to the two walls on your sides, illuminated your way.

“I’m so glad you decided to come with me, Y/N!” Alison shouted over her shoulder to drown out the loud music and pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“I can’t always let you go out on your own, Ali,” you joked when you made your way through the crowd to the bar. 

To describe the club as full would be quite an understatement and you wondered how Alison wanted to dance with all those people around. But luckily that wasn’t your problem, you thought, while you dropped on one of the few free bar stools.

“Do you really not want to dance,” Alison asked after ordering something to drink for the both of you. You just shook your head.

“I don’t like dancing very much, you know that. I’m very comfortable here at the bar.” 

Thankfully, you took the drink from her, which she pushed over the counter to you.

“Okay, each to their own,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Don’t let strange guys chat you up,” she said with a smile before she made her way to the dance floor, her drink in one hand.

You just shook your head, laughing. You were almost never talked to, which was partly because you spent most of your time alone in your room. On the other hand, if you ever did leave the apartment, you were probably just too ordinary. You liked to stand in a quiet corner and watch people. That was usually more interesting than being in the middle of it and you were able to get a good overview of the situation. 

That’s exactly what you did right now while sipping your drink. You winced, the bartender had not skimped on the alcohol and you had to be careful not to drink too much of it at once. Probably this one drink would be enough for you not to remember the whole evening tomorrow morning if you just drank it fast enough. Although maybe that wouldn’t be the worst alternative, …

“What’s a pretty young woman like you doing here all by herself at the bar?”

You flinched and spilled something of the drink you had just put to your lips. 

“Shit,” you mumbled as you looked down at yourself and noticed the spots on your white dress. A deep laugh, however, quickly pulled you out of the attempt to somehow make the stains disappear with your fingers and you looked up at your left.

Right into a man’s dark eyes and you could still see the laughter in them. He was handsome, you noticed when you let your gaze wander across his face. He had dark hair, a few strands of which hung on his face, prominent cheekbones and teeth so brightly white that you wouldn’t be surprised if you saw him in a toothpaste ad on TV.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologized and his smile gave way to a thoughtful expression. 

Immediately you noticed the small wrinkle between his perfect eyebrows and you had to pull yourself together not to get lost in it. Or in his perfect dark brown eyes.

You cleared your throat once and tried to smile, which you hoped looked rather self-confident. “Oh, everything’s fine. I just got a little bit startled,” you confessed and you were relieved when you realized that your voice sounded strong and not anxious. 

Because of the music and the many people, the mysterious man stood right next to you, which made you all the more nervous. 

“I am David,” he introduced himself and held out his hand to you. You took it and a warmth flowed straight through you, which made you completely relaxed.

“My name is Y/N,” you replied, and this time your smile was real. 

The other people in the club and the loud music had faded out. The only thing that mattered was David, who gave you such a warmth smile that you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His voice was so soft and melodious that you would love to listen to him all night. He raised his hand and carefully stroked a strand of your hair out of your face and you could literally feel the heat rising into your cheeks. 

“You’re wonderful when you blush,” he added with a little smile as he studied your face even more. 

You didn’t know what it was, but you felt like he could look right into your mind. The whole moment was so intense that you didn’t even notice how fast your heart was beating or how the hair on your arms stood up. And even if you had, you probably would have ascribed these symptoms to excitement, even if that hadn’t been the right assumption.

But instead of taking a step back and taking a closer look at the situation, as you so often do, you could only shyly laugh and continue to look at him. It was as if he was part of a magnet and you were the opposite part, you felt so attracted to this stranger. You could barely see his mischievous grin as he leaned down to whisper something into your ear.

“Maybe there is another place we want to go,” he whispered and you shuddered as his warm breath grazed your ear. 

Your heart began to beat even faster and you feared you would soon have a heart attack if it did not calm down. 

But suddenly a wave of his aftershave came towards you and your heart stopped for a moment. The smile on your lips faded quickly and you tensed up while sitting on the bar stool.

David also seemed to notice your mood change, and he withdrew a little. His face was so close to yours that you could see the tiny golden speckles in his otherwise almost black eyes.

“You all right, pretty?” he asked and gently stroked your right cheek with his thumb. Now you noticed the goose bumps that had formed and you immediately knew why your body reacted the way it did.

You forced yourself to smile.

“Yes, sure. I was just a little surprised, normally I’m not even approached,” you confessed and tried to laugh. It sounded false, but you hoped David wouldn’t notice. 

“Totally incomprehensible to me,” he replied and his voice, music in your ears a moment ago, now caused an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. You smiled again while wrapping your little purse over your shoulder.

“I’m just gonna go to the restroom, and then we can leave. Is that all right?” you asked as you got up from the bar stool. Only now you realized how tall David was. You barely reached his chest and you had to swallow.

“Of course, pretty. I’ll wait here,” he replied and you couldn’t get rid of the feeling that it was more a threat than a promise. 

While you were making your way to the toilet, you had to suppress the need to sprint. You felt his eyes in your back and only when you turned around the corner and exhaled with relief you realized that you had held your breath the whole time. The corridors here were also relatively dark and had the same lights as the entrance area. In contrast to the dance floor and the bar, there was astonishingly little activity here and the toilet room itself seemed to have been swept empty. 

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, two wide-open eyes stared back at you. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to a scared deer in the spotlight of a car. Your cheeks were reddened and your hair was sweaty at the back of your neck. Despite that, you’ve been incredibly cold since you smelled David’s aftershave. You were glad it had brought you back to your senses. Your body had wanted to tell you from the beginning that there was something wrong with him. It had practically begged you to flee the situation and to get as much space as possible between you and David.

The aftershave. 

You turned on the tap and let lukewarm water flow over your wrists. For a moment you closed your eyes, while pictures of the past captured your thoughts. Your father had used the same aftershave and it had always reminded you of home and a carefree childhood. At least until one evening when the police stood outside your door trying to tell you that your parents had died in a car accident.

With a little more force than necessary, you shut the tap and dried your hands on the rough paper. There’s no way you’re leaving with David. You didn’t know why, but something told you it wouldn’t end well for you. Some might think you’re crazy for missing the chance of a night with a super attractive man just because he used the same aftershave as your father. Yet you wouldn’t make the mistake of ignoring your intuition.

The club was full of people, he probably wouldn’t even notice if you walked right along the wall to the exit. Besides, you might get through there even faster because most people were in the middle of the club. You could also take a taxi home, even if you would normally walk the way. Thinking that you would be home in less than 15 minutes you relaxed a little. Before leaving the room you took a deep breath and stepped into the dark corridor.

You immediately noticed that the passage seemed even darker than before and quickly found the reason for it. The lights in the immediate vicinity of the toilet rooms were switched off and only the lamps at the beginning of the corridor about ten meters in front of you lit up the hallway. Your blood froze in your veins when you realized that a person was standing right in that part of the hallway so his face was in the dark and you couldn’t see it. You didn’t have to, because you knew right away who that person was. 

You panicked and as he slowly started to approach you, you felt like a side character in a horror movie. You would be sad if the person died, but at the end of the movie you’d forgotten them again. You were not the protagonist who, miraculously, survived all circumstances and horrors unscathed and at the end of the story rode happily and satisfied with the love of her life into the sunset. 

As you kept retreating, you realized that you have never been the protagonist, not even in your own life. And when you couldn’t back off any further because you felt the wall at your back, you knew it was okay. You always thought it was okay that you were the second choice; always acting in the background. Alison would quickly find someone who shared more interests with her and would soon take your place. It wouldn’t be long before she would have forgotten you, you were sure when you pinched your eyes in fear so as not to have to face your end. 

David now stood right in front of you and you lowered your head, your eyes still closed with such force that they were already aching.

He made a sound, which sounded like a mixture of a short laugh and a growl. Then there was another sound, a squeak, which you couldn’t identify at first. But when you heard footsteps, you knew it must have been the door to the toilet room. 

“Is there a problem here?” cautiously asked another very deep male voice.

You finally dared to open your eyes to look up and immediately wished you hadn’t done it. David looked at you with so much hatred and anger that your breath got stuck in your throat. His lips were pressed into a narrow line and you could see that he clenched his teeth tightly. He once inhaled deeply through his nose and relaxed his jaw before he answered and you were shocked at how gentle, almost lovely, his voice sounded.

“No, everything’s all right here.” He did not turn around, but fixed you with his gaze and you felt like the prey the hunter was watching.

“I would like to hear that from her,” demanded the unknown voice and it sounded much closer than before. He had to stand right behind David, but his broad shoulders blocked any view. 

You couldn’t answer, not with David looking at you the way he did at that moment. You didn’t need to be able to read minds to know that if you said the wrong word, he could kill you here and now. 

“Well?” The voice sounded tense and every trace of caution from before had disappeared. David’s look indicated that you should reply to the unknown person.

“I... I–” you started, but your voice was quiet and no more than a whisper.

“I think that’s enough for an answer. You’d better leave her alone.” 

You exhaled with relief when you heard those words. Whoever this unknown person was, quickly realized that something was wrong.

“Otherwise, what?” David asked, demandingly, and turned around. You could catch a glimpse past him and you saw a strand of blond hair. The rest, however, was denied to you, because your field of vision was occupied by David’s muscular back.

You took the chance that presented itself to you and pushed past him while he was still distracted by the unknown person. Before David could react, the person had pushed himself between the two of you and was now standing in front of you. He wasn’t quite as tall as David, but still had quite broad shoulders and what you could see from his face was at least as attractive as the dark-haired one, if not even more handsome. You didn’t know why you had to think about that right now.

“We’re going to leave this club now. Without you,” he added, turning his head slightly towards you. You nodded, even though you didn’t know if he’d asked for your consent. 

“You can try someone else, but you leave her alone.” 

Before you knew it, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. 

“This isn’t the last time we’ll see each other, Y/N!” David shouted to you, but despite the threat, you were relieved when you realized he wasn’t following you.

You hardly noticed the loud music and the countless people, you had the feeling of being in a trance. You felt the warm hand that had clutched yours tightly, making sure you didn’t get lost in the turmoil. You used the time you needed to get to the exit to look closely at the stranger. 

His blond hair hung partly in his face and partially covered his ears. His lips were slightly open, as if he was absorbed in thought, but he observed the surroundings through narrowed eyes. It almost seemed as if he expected David to appear in front of you at any moment. It was probably better to assume the worst, so that you could not be negatively surprised. 

Only now you noticed how casual he was dressed. He wore washed-out blue jeans, a plain black T-shirt and a black sweat jacket. It looked incredibly good on him, but you still couldn’t help but think that it didn’t seem to fit into this party scene. 

You quickly shook off the thought when you finally stepped outside into the open. The cold you hated before came in handy now, because it sharpened your senses again and got you out of your trance-like state.

Your eyes were fixed on your hands; his hand was still tightly wrapped around yours, but he hardly seemed to notice. As you looked up again, you noticed that his eyes were on your face, full of worry. 

“Y/N, is it?”

You just nodded.

“Is everything okay?” he asked and you noticed his incredibly deep voice again as he looked at you waiting for you to answer his question.

This time you managed more than just a nod.

“Yeah, apart from some weird guy hitting on me at the bar and then lurking outside the restroom, everything’s great.” You smiled at him, still very conscious of his hand. 

He also laughed softly and let go of your hand. You immediately missed the warmth that emanated from him and where now only the cold wind grazed your palm. Immediately you shivered and wrapped your arms around you again, as you had done before when you and Ali were waiting outside the club.

Since then, at most an hour had passed, but you had the feeling as if the whole night had elapsed, as tired and exhausted you were.

“I’m Taehyung, by the way, I wish we’d met under different circumstances,” he said, giving you a kind of boxy smile. 

You laughed for a second. “Yes, that would have been nice. But thank you so much for stepping in. I don’t want to know what he would have done if you hadn’t shown up,” you replied and tried to banish the images from your mind that appeared as soon as you said it.

“I don’t think you have to read minds for that,” Taehyung said and his eyes darkened. 

“Hmm,” was all you could say. For a moment you two enjoyed the pause, only the muffled music that came out of the club filled the silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You must be freezing. Here,” Taehyung suddenly said and was taking off his jacket.

“You don’t have to do that, Taehyung,” you tried to persuade him, but he just shook his head and came closer to put his jacket around your shoulders.

He was so close to you that his blond strands of hair tickled your forehead. You could feel the heat rising directly back into your cheeks, even though you were freezing all over. For a short moment his hands grazed your shoulders as he wrapped his jacket around you and for a second he stood close to you as if he were thinking of saying something. Apparently, he decided against it because he took another step back to examine you.

“Thank you,” you whispered and pulled the jacket even closer. It smelled like him and you were glad you didn’t associate the scent with a family member. Yet it reminded you of home and a pleasant feeling rose up in your chest. 

“Shall I call you a cab? I’ll wait until it gets there, too,” Taehyung asked while he was digging his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” you replied and waved your hands defensively, which he probably couldn’t see because your hands were covered by his much too large jacket. “I only live about ten minutes from here,” you explained further as Taehyung paused questioningly in his movement.

“Oh, okay, but then I’ll take you home,” he said and you heard by his tone that any attempt at discussion was pointless.

“And how do I know you’re not some weird guy, too, who’ll kill me in the next alley,” you asked jokingly, and Taehyung smiled with his typical rectangular smile, which you’ve already taken to your heart.

“You can never be sure.”

Written 2019-2021. Do not copy, translate or repost without permission.

Hello! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, even though it’s more of a prologue than a real chapter. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language, but I have tried hard to make as few mistakes as possible. However, if you notice anything, I would be very happy if you let me know. And of course any criticism of the chapter itself is very welcomed. ♥️

[zabreti]

the time has finally come for me to start expressing what i have been overwhelmingly feeling for the past week, since i started to properly listen to this sunshine of a woman named joanna newsom. i want to- actually, i need to vent a little about the album ys, since it’s the one i first listened to. plus my initial contact with joanna’s work and thoughts that came with it

even though i only found out about her a few months ago, i guess everyone knows her(?); if you don’t, you should. there’s not one single moment in which i’m not mad at myself for not finding her sooner. so fyi, she’s a harpist, pianist, singer and songwriter from nevada. according to some sources, she may be the most famous harpist alive today; i really don’t know about you, but it really sounds quite badass for me.

i started searching for her stuff after watching her husband’s - andy samberg - multiple interviews, where he would be sometimes asked about their marriage. i’ve been binge watching random interviews with people i like for the last weeks, and i found myself actually watching some interviews of hers before i even got to listen to her music.

btw, look at this fucking adorable couple. just look at them for a second.

first of all, what a lovely woman! each answer, each laughter, each little thing she did on camera caused an admiration for the idea of andy and her together to grow strongly; i wasn’t even sure if it was ok for me to feel so strongly about someone else’s relationship. my curiosity grew when i started to read the comments on these videos on youtube, pretty much 100% of them being about her intelligence, her talent and how her music sounds angelical, mystical and perfectly constructed. (let it be said that it only grew more and more as i watched every single interviewer asking both andy and joanna about how different their works are, and how different they appear to be as individuals; not only was suggested that andy would probably not rise up to such an intelligent, serious taste as to fall in love with her (he doesn’t even need to say a word for anyone to realize how passionately in love he is with joanna and her entire work), but also said that no one could believe she was actually able to be a goofy, easy-going, good-humored person because of the lyrics she writes. ok, i could spend hours listing the unnecessary questions i identified in these interviews, and how i get easily annoyed by these famous hosts assuming stuff or trying to create an uncomfortable environment; and don’t even get me started on the fact that most of the interviews she was invited to would revolve around her relationship with andy. i’m choosing to let this feeling pass for now, since it’s not my focus today.)

i couldn’t help but start by saying all this since i truly adore andy’s works, and nothing feels warmer than realizing two amazing people are in love and have a family together by choice.

i mean..... ??????? c’mon. greatest couple alive. try and fight me on this.

another interesting thing i found out was that she dislikes streaming platforms similar to spotify, which probably (?) justifies the fact that i never came across her songs, since i use spotify on a daily basis and have been using it to find new artists for the last years. call me ignorant, it’s fine, truly; but i haven’t heard of similar opinions coming from artists, and it made me even more curious to know what this woman was expressing, creating, thinking. she actually told larry king: 

“spotify is a business model. it’s not good. it’s based on the idea of circumventing the payment of artists. (...) i’m not opposed to streaming. i understand that the world is shifting and that the way music is valued and monetized is shifting, and i’m ok with that. and i’m even ok with people not paying for music (...), i just wish that there was a better way to do it that didn’t only pay a company. (...) i haven’t heard of one [alternative to spotify] that seems built the way that i would prefer it to be built.”

one of spotify owners (owners or directors, idek and idec) even replied to her many critics, but she never changed her mind or retreated from defending even her honest, harsh comments about how spotify is “like a villainous cabal of major labels”. for me, that’s a badass woman. not only for expressing herself without giving a damn about anyone who might be offended in this process, but also for choosing the path that felt ethical and worthy, and being recognized all over the world for her talent while following her own ways. i know, right? simply awesome.

there i was, reading the endless comments on her interviews’ videos and wondering what the fuss was all about. there was nothing left for me to do other than to actually start listening to her songs. i could have done it by looking up her discography and starting from her first project, but somehow i stomped into the ys album, which was released in 2006, in youtube itself.

first of all, would you look at this freaking cover?

i found it absolutely gorgeous in each detail; in fact, i really wish to know if there are meanings in the little specific parts of the painting. maybe there aren’t any and i’m just trying to create a more complex joanna in my mind? sure, sounds like me. or maybe there are lots of ‘em and she already said it on camera and i simply missed this video? sure, sounds possible. i won’t lie, i spent so much time thinking about this cover... maybe way too much time. alright, on we go.

there are 5 tracks on the album: emily, monkey & bear, sawdust and diamonds, only skin and cosmia.

at first, i didn’t quite understand what i was listening to. and i’m not talking about the lyrics, i’m talking about the whole idea of the album, the artist, the genre. the conjunction formed by her high pitches and soft, delicious vocal variations, surrounded lovingly by the harp and the violins was very mysterious to me. at first, i wouldn’t be encouraged to keep listening to her. but something kept me there, seated, staring at the screen and paying attention to each second of it. it was an experience. a real transportation. i searched for the lyrics on genius, and anyone that would pass by my bedroom’s open door would see me completely enamored by what i was listening to, like a concentrated kid being told an epic, adventurous, huge, beautiful and complex story. that is exactly how i felt: in the middle of a field, picturing each image she described in the song; each figure, each feeling. she described it all in a way that made me wonder how can someone describe a dream so vividly, how can someone describe anything so perfectly, so fully, and not sound redundant, not sound at all boring. the way the melody and the lyrics fit together, as a gift perfectly wrapped and tightly involved in the most beautiful way. i repeat: it was an experience. it is an experience. this is not something you can listen to at any given time, at any given place; i would not dare to not pay attention each time i would plan to listen to it. this is how seriously submerged i felt by joanna in that moment; in that entire day.

all of this, all of this immersion, all of this dream-like state in which i found myself in, kept growing its roots in me throughout the entire album, in a way i needed to show someone - anyone - joanna before i even got to finish the five songs; and the first one that came near me happened to be my mother. while listening, she actually found it quite pleasing, “like some old movie’s soundtrack” when listening to emily, “like an 1960′s melody” when listening to sawdust and sand, and on she went about the entire album. and this got me thinking about how i would describe her genre; of course, after following her on bandcamp i found out i was actually listening to some folk/pop/avant-garde/baroque pop/chamber folk/indie stuff. sounds about right, but at the same time not right at all, for some reason. i believe it’s fair to say that joanna has a magical, rare quality to her music that makes it different to each one listening to it. i’ve said it too much and i’ll say it again: it’s an experience, a complete, true one. it ressonates with deep, personal places. and, strangely, it makes many people describe the feeling that urges to grow inside their hearts as “home”; and i share this exact same sensation.

i really don’t know if it makes any sense, but see: i cherish my alone time probably more than anything in the world. i have learned to be my own best friend in many ways, and being by myself in some quiet days, at my house, reading, listening, watching and creating is when i can truly be myself. with that said, listening to this album, i felt at home. it made me feel even more alone, and i mean it in the most loving, warm, hypnotizing way. 

the ys album is a relatively quick production to be heard, even though it feels like you’ve been gone for hours, days, weeks on end while listening to it. the amount of literary, historic and philosofical references in the lyrics is magically overwhelming; i simply wasn’t able to snap out of it for a long time, and i have, to this day, re-listened to the album about 5 times. still reading the lyrics again and again, still grasping at some expressions faintly but amazed, still finding out about hidden and not so hidden meanings behind each track. still defining it, every single day.

i hope for the great discoveries i feel like pursuing from her work, and the diverse new singers, song-writers, harpists, pianists, violinists, chellists and musicists in general i’ll try to find, understand and support from now on. i’m thankful for finding out how much i love the mix between an orchestra-like atmosphere and a sweet, honest voice ringing in my ears; and how the words assembled together feels like a psychography.

i thank the universe every single day for the opportunity to discover people like joanna newsom.

[jksangelic]

defanged (m)

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: smut, fluff, werewolf!au, a/b/o au, pwp

↳ pairing: mates werewolf!reader x werewolf/alpha!hoseok

↳ warnings: explicit sexual content, dom themes, breathplay, knotting, rough play, impregnation kink, overall general ”werewolf” smut themes, personality change, probably an uncomfortable amount of squishy mate talk

↳ summary:  hoseok is an easy mate—as such that there are moments you question if he’s just human. so when his sudden spike of aggression emerges, you do your best to keep this unknown man at bay. or, alternatively: young alpha hoseok has started teething and he’s being a bratty puppy about it.

↳ note: ok so if you were with me a few months ago you would know that this is actually a collab fic with a couple other writers but life happens and here we are now *cowboy emoji*. this is really important to me bc they’re such *clench fist* great people and i’m happy i received such an opportunity to collab with them (’: pls make sure to rb/like/visit our collab masterlist if you want to be in-the-know of when they post their parts!

also i wanted to play around with the humorous sides of what werewolves might go thru (-: so, like, short attention spans and hating loud noises and typical big dog stuff. with the teething, just imagine that their growth stages are prolonged because they’re, idk, maybe immortal or something lol

(i…… i’m not used to writing fantasy can u tell)

((gif isn’t mine + his side profile ;-;))

↳ words: 9k+

You could hear every miniscule thread snap and unwind from themselves, a simple task such as painting your nails becoming less relaxing than it should be.

“Hobi,” you mumble once. You swipe down your thumb again, carmine red smoothing over brightly and with utmost delicacy. He doesn’t listen, another squeaking grind of his teeth against the material of his sweatshirt followed by a snapsnap.

“Hobi,” you say a little louder, flinching from annoyance and staining your cuticle with the polish. You curse your discontents, waiting for him to look at you but only meeting a turned neck and eyes still glued to his phone, an I’m listening portrayed by his demeanor but not really meaning it.

He chews hard on the neckline, a solid rip completely tearing several inches down his chest, eyes widening and attention finally caught when his chest is exposed hilariously.

“Hoseok!” you yell, slamming the closed bottle onto the coffee table and meeting his startled eyes, “I just bought that for you!”

He hopes to play it off and shrugs as you swipe it from his teeth, untwined fibers poking out sadly. You smooth your thumbs over the poor fabric, the third victim of his recent gnashing problem.

“Why do you keep doing this?” you ask sadly, a little more bummed about the beautiful sweatshirt than you should be.

He responds simply, “My gums itch.”

You roll your eyes at his childlike excuse, the full-sized man sitting cross-legged and distractedly in his corner of the couch with his phone paused on some game with horrendously annoying music. Was he really your alpha?

“Why don’t you do us some good and go hunting.” You offer, a lame excuse to get Hoseok out of your hair for a bit. It’s what you deserve. He rolls over with a harrumph, shoulder now bare from the growing tear in his clothing. It made you giggle slightly.

“I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me,” he deadpans, body static-still and stubborn more than ever.

Your breath fans his skin as you slither next to him, “I’m sorry, baby. Are you really hurting? Why don’t you go to the dentist?”

Hoseok pouts, taptaptapping away at his screen instead of looking at you, “I don’t want to go to the dentist. They just itch.” Even now, he licks over the burning sensation of his gums, clenching and grinding his teeth to ease the feeling in any way. You can hear the collisions of his canines, your own tingling uncomfortably from the sound.

You shake your head. “Maybe you’re teething,” you suggest in all seriousness. It wasn’t impossible; your kind’s lifespan certainly placing such life stages at seemingly unusual times. In any case, it would simply mean his canines were most likely growing longer and stronger.

He scoffs as if you’ve insulted him, “I’m well over my teething days, Y/N. They just itc—"

“Say that one more time and I’ll neuter you,” you huff. When he lacks a kinder response, you push yourself off the couch to tidy your bedroom instead. He clearly wasn’t in the mood to have a serious conversation with you at the moment, and despite its rarity, you could use your space.

Your mate was in no way irritable; in fact, Hoseok was one of the sunniest alpha’s you’ve ever encountered. His kindness differentiated him from others, bearing his mark (and one day, hopefully, his pups) certainly deeming you quite lucky. He was a soft lover above all, never making you feel as a subordinate or anything of the like.

Perhaps it’s why you two were clashing heads recently, his personality completely contradictory from his true self. Never does he ignore you, let alone snap at you.

Folding your clothes (and purposefully leaving his items in a pile on his side of the bed in spite), you exhale heavily and leave for the living room once again, disregarding your now smeared manicure.

Hoseok beams at the shoe aisle, producing more light than whatever was already lit in the store. Due to his “issue”, stopping by the mall was a given. Two more of his shirts and even one of your necklaces mangled and chewed up like he was the Tasmanian Devil.

Petting his hair fondly, you give him a nuzzle to his cheek, “I’ll be in the next store over, puppy. Come meet me when you’re done.” He nods happily, wide-frame glasses bobbing atop his pretty nose.

You beeline for the department store in hopes of purchasing a few extra things for yourself before Hoseok sniffs you out. It’s immediate heaven when you sift through the dresses, picking a few out and dangling them happily on your fingers before bouncing from rack to rack. By the time you reach the dressing rooms, your arm aches from the pile you’ve accumulated.

“Hey there, you can go ahead and take that first stall right there,” a man directs, tall and intimidating and rather fucking handsome, you think. “My name’s Jaebum. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll go grab it for you.”

You bat your lashes and mouth a Thanks before waltzing into your room, appreciating his kindness perhaps a little too much. Despite your complex and absolute relationship status, it didn’t hurt to peek at what’s on display. It was only right!

You try on more than what you even remembered picking out, velvets and satins and the softest of cottons all hugging you warmly with every piece, a bittersweet happiness when everything seemed to fit you perfectly. The last dress, though, is your only hiccup. Material skin-tight and ending just a little above your ankles; you harrumph. Almost a perfect streak.

Dress still on (at least it zipped), you peek through the door and spot handsome Bum at the front. “Psst, um, do you mind getting me a couple more sizes in this? I think it was near the wall to the right.”

He grins and nods, almost grateful of the fact that you asked him to do so. Why was he even in this section? Should it concern you?

You watch as he leaves, back muscles showcased quite lavishly in his pristinely pressed suit.

Should it be more concerning that it didn’t?

You take a moment to look at the dress once more, smoothing over the velvet that bunched snugly at your waist and checking out your own ass. The fabric might rip if you sneeze too hard but you look pretty damn splendid.

“Found a few more and got you another color as well,” Jaebum says upon return. You almost snap your neck away from the mirror, hoping he didn’t see you ogling your bum. What a speedy fellow.

You politely open the door wider and reach for the hangers, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Jaebum doesn’t fully hand it to you though, briefly but noticeably skimming over your body, “I think that size is cute on you too. You have a really beautiful figure.”

Maybe it should concern you. You chuckle awkwardly and look elsewhere. Please just give me my dresses, you almost say, now self-conscious in your skin.

“It’s even better when she’s naked. I would know,” Hoseok near growls, appearing out of thin air. He swipes the hangers from behind Jaebum, who is surprised beyond all comprehension of the word, and pushes you back into the room. You’ve never seen him look so enraged, face serious and twitching as if he would shift at any given moment.

“Th-There aren’t allowed to be more than one person in a—,” Jaebum nervously starts from the other side before the door is slammed on his nose.

You didn’t even see Jaebum’s reaction, nor do you ponder it when Hoseok drops your beautiful dresses and thrusts your back against the mirror with his hand to your neck, deliberately making you yelp loud enough for others to hear. You recoil as he bares his fangs, sharp and taunting, threatening to devour you whole and you know this isn’t your Hobi.

He doesn’t get the chance for whatever else he had in store when pure vehemence engulfs you, daring to stand your ground with a low guttural snarl and shoving him off. Your strength is nothing to snicker at, his shoulders nearly hitting the other wall despite his stature.

“What’s wrong with you?” you didn’t even care if everyone in the damn store could hear you, “Don’t you dare touch me!”

Regret instantly arises in his eyes, his hands reaching out to comfort you in any way but hesitant in the warning. He would rather die than hurt you, he was sorry, he was so sorry.

Your body can feel his sorrow and want, itching to touch him in any way but you push it down. The little she-wolf in you whimpers as you struggle out of the dress and leave him alone in the stall, begging for you to go back and forgive him.

Jaebum stands, bewildered, outside of the rooms. He sure did rue the moment he ever made advances on you. Not a word is spoken as you pass by and exit the store.

It doesn’t make it any easier when Hoseok follows you closely. “Baby, I’m sorry. Please.”

“You were going to shift because of some stupid sales clerk! You could’ve gotten us in some deep shit with the order,” you scold, “We’re going home. Right now.” This was a double-edged sword, you didn’t even get to purchase anything. Though your mood is far too foul to continue.

“But I didn’t! No one saw anything. I just lost my cool for a second, I promise. I know better.” Even Hoseok strains to keep up your pace, car already in view and goddamn you walk fast.

“Do you? Are you seriously justifying your actions? You need to uphold your responsibilities, Hoseok. You’re not new to this.” He finds that he despises when you lecture him this way, gums and skin and everything prickly and he wish he could gnaw on something right about now.

It was odd to tell him these things, taking into consideration that his role is considerably higher than yours and that he hardly ever faults as an alpha. If there wasn’t something going on biologically, what else could it be?

He’s obviously straining to keep his composure now, jaw slacked and knuckles cracking in his fist, “How am I supposed to do that now? It won’t happen again. It’s over.”

“Then what about your shitty mood swings? We don’t argue, Hoseok. You’re not mean, you’re not easily agitated, and you’re not a fucking paper  shredder. Neither are you aggressive to your own mate,” you throw in his face, unsurprised when he cowers again at the thought. It’s like the man was on his period.

Now that you recall, the last time you’ve ever seen him so angry at you is when you watched Endgame without him, and that should say enough. This was just all so new and unbecoming of someone with his level of reputation.

“You know I didn’t mean to do that. I never want to hurt you…” he leads as you beat him to the driver’s side of the car, watching him over the hood for him to finish his sentence, “I’m just—”

“You what, Hoseok?”

He jostles the door handle a few times, a rep of unsettling clacks making him uneasy.  

“Can you unlock the car?”

“You what?” you say a little louder, entirely avoiding his question.

“Goddammit,” he hisses, “Just let me in and we can talk about it when we get home.” You scan his face in search of anything. For the truth. For him to own up to what it is. What you get is nothing.

So you smile, “No.”

He stands cluelessly as you unlock your door and hop in, starting the car with a satisfying roll and opening his window just enough to see his addled facial expression.

“What are you doing?” he deadpans.

“If you won’t admit it then you obviously don’t take me seriously, and if you won’t take me seriously then I’ll take my car home by myself. So, toodles!”

He smirks nervously, slender fingers sifting through his hair, “Y/N, c’mon. Just let me in.” He’s even more staggered when you start reversing out of your spot. Eyes widening hilariously, he cusses under his breath as he walks cautiously towards the door.

“Have a fun run, baby. Better get home soon,” you feign pity, “looks like it’s going to start raining pretty soon.”

“We live an hour away!”

You drive down the row, turning on your signal just in case someone needed to know. Shucks, you were such a good driver, even in the parking lot.

Hoseok thinks otherwise, anger and panic so vivid that you can feel it from this distance. Walking Time Bomb even begins to jog, not willing to risk your bluff.

“Okay! Okay, I admit it. I may be going through something…” his wavering voice trickles into your head. “You’re right.’

You let him catch up to you, eyes shifty and fingers fiddling. “Hi, darling. Can you say that one more time? In person?” His chest puffs.

“I already said it once,” he begs.

Was his pride this important? Did the strangled mutt deep down change your Hoseok for the worst? An impatient car behind you honks and you shrug.

“You’re making people wait. I’m going to leave.”

“Jesus fucking—okay. I think I’m teething. Or something involving my dental state. It’s making me fucking grumpy and it’s painful and I want to punch a fucking wall because it’s stupid that this phase is so late.” You unlock his door mid-sentence, his body falling into his seat before he continues to blabber on.

“Oh, little puppy,” you slide your sunglasses from atop your head down to the bridge of your nose, “Don’t be so sensitive. ‘S like a human adult getting braces.”

The week passes by agonizingly slow. And that wasn't necessarily because Hoseok bitched and complained, throwing temper tantrums when the remote had fallen between the couch cushions or throwing his pants stormily when they would catch on his ankles and make him hobble about like a disabled chicken.

Or maybe it was because of that.

You dare to creak the door to his den (pun intended), having locked himself in such confinement to work through the paperwork that's been piling on his mahogany desk for days. He looks worn around the eyes, long brown hair pushed back with his fake reading glasses. You knock three times as if he couldn't already sense your presence. When he looks at you through his lashes, he nods for you to proceed.

"Hi, baby. How's the work going?" you ask with a honey-dipped edge.

He shrugs, "A lot of affairs from other packs that I have to go over. I should be done soon."

You slink behind his office chair and wrap your arms around his shoulders, "Mm, why don't you take a break and have a nice little bath with me?" He doesn't budge one inch, straightening out a stack of papers before stapling them neatly and tucking them into one of his drawers.

"I need to finish this. I've been pushing it back until the last minute."

Rolling him out a bit, you slide onto his lap and rest on his chest. Your touch always lulls a serene sensitivity from his skin, a natural effect that only you are capable of. But his muscles remain taut. Bones stiff and budging none whatsoever. Stuttering, you try again, "You've been working for hours. I'm lonely. Just an hour--,"

"Y/N. I'm warning you. Get off."

She-wolf unconsciously warns you to stand down upon this statement. Was he being serious? He's warning you? You search his blank face, waiting for him to crack a smile or lift you up and attack you with kisses. When he doesn't, you test the waters.

Your nails scratch the bare skin under his shirt, "H-Hoseokie, we haven't had sex in so long," you whine. Invading his space, however, only sets him off more.

He growls, deep and meant to be menacing. It takes brutal force to push yourself to move, a weight halting your ministrations. His word, no matter how rare it be, was your law. Do you dare defy that?

You unbutton his pants the same time he threatens, "Continue any further and see what happens." He's breathier than normal and that gives you some satisfaction. He was your mate, after all. Eternal fulfillment was your duty.

The feeling of his heavy and growing bulge, nestling in the crook of his thigh, is a success all in its own. You purr and rub your legs together, licking at Hoseok's neck lovingly and waiting for him to give in. "Hobi, you're already--ah!"

Your view spins as Hoseok scruffs you to his desk, cold wood pressed to your cheek and wrists somehow pinned behind you. Yiping in fear, you struggle in his harsh imprisonment.

"You don't fucking listen," he complains, voice balancing on the line between speaking and yelling.

"Hoseok! L-Let me g-go--," you start before he grinds himself into your ass, boner prominent and angry as it prods. He replaces the hand to your neck with his mouth, laving and suckling all the way down your shoulder.

"Can't do that. I warned you and you disobeyed me. You disobey your alpha, Y/N?"

"No, I'm sorry--," you squeak before your dress is thrown over your back and a sharp slap comes down onto your ass.

You don’t believe the sound that comes out of your throat, pressing your thighs together and wiggling the pain away. “J-Jung Hoseok! What is—” Another slap, harder than the first.

The nerves tingle all the way down to your toes as your eyes roll back. You moan once more, unsolicited and without restraint. Hoseok is content with your reaction, not expecting you to squirm so nicely because of your punishment.

"You like this, don't you? I can smell you leaking like some submissive whore," he snarls with an edge of disappointment. You're beyond mortified of how he speaks to you, although not inclined to deny his words. Not when he spanks you once more, with such force that a scream is rewarded and your back arches in euphoric pain.

"Hoseok, no more, please. I'll--I'll cum if you keep, ugh," you blabber over yourself. He thinks you look prettily pathetic drooling on his desk, so close to spilling over the edge from being physically humiliated.

"Tch, so weak," he comments before releasing your wrist and letting you collapse to the floor. "Are you done?" The question both turns you on and pisses you off, emotions swirling into something self-destructive.

Crawling on the carpet and up his leg, you nuzzle into his bulge, "But I still didn't get what I want." You don’t even ponder where this behavior is coming from; slinking out of you like a dog with its tail between its legs. Perhaps his own change of manner influenced one in you.

He could laugh at how easy you were being, wondering when he ever mated with someone who acts like such a sexually-obsessed brat. "Oh?" he prompts, "So you think you get to make the calls here?"

Licking the hem of his boxers in response, he doesn't feel pleased with your lack of words. You perk up when he shuffles his cock out from the confines of his layers. It’s almost instinctual, not wasting any time to pepper kisses and kitten licks to his tip. God, he even smells amazing. You don't care if you look ridiculous, feverish with your actions like he'd take away your precious treat if you weren't cautious.

He snickers at you, petting your hair with an unexpectedly soft touch. Your heart-shaped irises peer up, knowing he loves your eye contact when you suck him off. Watching the blush spread on his face means that you must be doing your job correctly. Besides, not even the Big Bad Wolf can deny when he feels his pleasure.

He almost can’t stand the self-righteousness that oozes off you. If you thought you were in control, you were dead-wrong. "You want my cock that bad, huh, baby?" your love bunches as much of your hair as he can with his fist, "Then fucking take it."

Then his girthy dick shoves to the back of your throat without warning, hips to your nose and thrustingthrustingthrusting as far as he can.

You'd sputter if your mouth wasn't so full, eyes overflowing with tears and throat constricting in hopes that he'll let you go. When he doesn't and continues to grind himself down your mouth, you dig your nails into his thighs and whine on his persistent cock. It doesn’t matter, the digging crescents in his thighs rousing him even further and even hoping those pretty nails of yours leave marks for him. He’d accept no less.

Hoseok thrusts twice more before pulling you off and watching you cough maniacally. The tears that gathered were now running down your face, accompanied with your saliva that leaks from your chin and onto the floor.

You couldn't breathe, you couldn't ask him to stop, and you loved it.

He cocks a brow as you struggle to catch up, "We'll stop here. You're obviously not made for this."

Pitiful is the only word he can use to describe how quickly you paw and beg for him, desperately wrapping your fingers around the base of his member and pumping him just the way he likes it, "No! I can take it, please use me." Your unstable hand massages the cum-saliva mix as well as it can, a small victory celebrated when he bucks into you.

"Mm," his thumb wipes a stray tear from your lip, "You're so beautiful when you cry. Will you sit on the desk for me?"

You don't hesitate to obey, being careful to hop up when your bum is so sore but otherwise eager for him to touch you again. When he places himself between your legs, your body hums.

"I'm... I'm not well, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you," he says, voicing his first concern after what's already happened. With his brows knit in concern and his slender fingers rubbing calmly at your sides, it's almost as if the Hoseok you know has returned. The Hobi that makes your pancakes just a little overcooked like you prefer. Who makes you a blanket nest when you’re feeling down. And will gladly give up his last bite of anything to watch you munch happily even after you’ve finished your own portion.

In some way, this was your same Hobi. Maybe not so sweet and innocent but more on the receiving end. Spending his days tending to you out of pure love and pleasure to see you bloom; it was just your turn to return the favor.

So you kiss him with fervor and mold your chest to his, feeling the scorching heat that emanates from him. He must seriously be straining himself, you think. His canines graze your lips and you know he's trying his best to hold back; to not completely obliterate you.

"I want to help you," you whisper against his mouth. You implore him and he doesn’t hesitate to take your offer.

You extend your legs as he rushes to pull down your thong, throwing it to the side, and embracing you with another kiss, all tongue and pants. Some of his documents get ruffled under your steadying hands and he shoves them off altogether, a rain of really important paper littering the room. He comes in a little too excitedly, slamming a drawer closed with his thigh and even scooting his desk across the floor.

“God fucking dammit,” he swears, your chuckles covering his wet lips. “I’m… a mess… not thinking straight. Need to cum inside you.”

You purr when his head rubs against your sex, an electric sensation tearing through you. “Want you to knot me,” you whisper. A mistake in its own because he’s practically moaning into your mouth when you say such things.

“Yeah, baby? Want your cunt pumped full? Hm?” he asks into your jaw, all the while spreading your legs as far as they can split with his strong hands. His hips begin to circle like he’s stalling as long as possible and that rouses you up in a way.

You nod with sultry eyes and chant, “Yes. Yes, yes.” By the second yes does he all but slam into you, your final confirmation his endgame.

Hoseok was truly blessed in size, something no mere human could ever match. His length alone would make you double over in ecstasy if he allowed you the space to. Squeezing around him only makes him fuck you deeper, both wanting and needing more of each other than you already have. You were made for him, and him you.

You whimper as he pulls out, his head tantalizing your g-spot before ramming back inside and forcing an angelic cry. “H-Hoseokie… Please, your pups. I want to have your pups”

The sounds of his hips against your skin with your moans and the subtle creak of his desk is almost humorous, you were fucking like dogs. Even more so when he pushes you flat against the wood by the front of your throat, his thumb tucked gently on an airway as your tongue flops out in simple bliss.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” he snarls with a particularly evil drill to your core that curls your toes. “Nothing to me would be more satisfying than to breed you.”

Your throat constricts and you cough, your tiny hands tugging at his fingers while barely being able to pry his grip. You can’t resist moaning through clenched teeth still, even when the prettiest wine red pours into his irises. Hoseok holds back incredibly well, despite having shifting eyes, his total control never fails to astonish you. It was years worth of training and you thank the stars that it was useful in a time where you were literally stuffed with his cock.

“And you’re so willing; so obedient now. You like when I fuck you like this. Just want that beautiful pussy bred until you’re spilling, right?” he chuckles with means to humiliate when your eyes flutter and drool spills from your swollen lips, “What a mate.”

You tighten, an embarrassing amount of arousal spilling and sticking to your love. He doesn’t mind one bit, rather, losing composure for a brief moment, “Ugh, so good.”

His hand suddenly withdraws from your tender neck and you sputter an attempt to catch your breath, a fleeting moment before he wraps his arms under your knees and prompts you to hang onto him when he stands. How quickly he’s able to switch positions is hot in itself, but the thought is also lost when you sink down even further on his dick.

“Oh, oh my god,” you wail pathetically, wrapping yourself around him and trying to lift your trembling body to ease how full you feel, even for just a moment.

“Hm? I thought you wanted this, baby. Wanted my complete, unforgiving love for you. Isn’t that why you walked into my office?” he smirks similarly to how you imagine the devil would. His hands find leverage against the closest wall, also shoving you against it and resuming his pace into you.

This, to whichever persona was hiding deep down in Hoseok, was divine. Incredible. You would die for this man even without the bond. He was literally screwing you braindead.

He pants, warm and sweaty and shirt somehow unbuttoned halfway down (when did you do that?), “I thought you wanted my knot? Not anymore?”

Your pupils blow out as you shake your head, you were so close.

“Ah, then I’ll knot you. I’ll knot you but you have to beg,” he says with a wink. Bastard.

“Please, please knot me, baby. Breed me and let me have your pups,” you sob, “Fill me up until I can’t take it anymore, Alpha, please—”

He jabs incessantly until you’re entirely maxed out, sloppy smacks echoing out further than the den and his growls emanating when you drag your sharp nails down his back, the fabric tearing under your fingers. Hoseok grinds his full length into you, reaching beyond the end of your walls.

“S-Stay,” he orders. He slows as the base of his cock swells and even though you asked for it, it’s always a little uncomfortable. You can’t even fathom how it feels for your mate, his sudden groans and the absolute necessity to lave at your neck only scraping at the surface of any real indication.

Hoseok told you once that it was similar to both being overstimulated and having a sudden spike of energy, which could explain his touchiness. It was cute though, and kinda hot.

Nestled deep inside, you can subtly feel the ropes of semen beginning to pool. You rest your head over his shoulder, buzzing from the intensity of it all and watching as the walls move and shift into the ones of your bedroom.

Hoseok’s hoarse voice surprises you, “Fuck, I’m so dizzy.”

The bed is a heavenly difference from the den’s desk and wall, your heart pounding a little too hardly when he places one of his pillows lengthwise under your back for extra squish. He was so cute.

But then he collapses on you.

“Oof—I’ve never seen you like that before. My ass hurts,” you state dreamily.

“Oh, love. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asks seriously, lifting his head to study your face in case you lie. The red dissipated long before, his deep brown eyes twinkling down at you like they always do.

“You were a little rough,” you feign, pouting and pushing around his face with paw-folded fists. He thinks you look like an idiot, a cute idiot.

“I’m sorryyyy,” he whines, burying his face into your chest and wiggling around like a fish. His knot moves with him and you wince.

“Hoseok, stay still.”

Being showered in a sudden attack of kisses is what he responds with, not even aware of the task at hand and fake crying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to hurt you—I—oh no.”

You yipe as semen sloshes down your leg, shoving your palm into Hobi’s (who is undoubtedly back to his usual self) cheek and trying your best to not panic.

“Goddammit, Jung Hoseok! Stay still!”

beep boop hope you liked, leave some feedback if you did!

[magioftheseas]

Reserved

Written for @komahinaisle

Day 1: School AU, Childhood, Firsts

Summary: They were close as kids until Nagito moved. When they meet again in Hope's Peak, things are more fraught and complicated between them than Hinata ever could have imagined. And it's hard to deal with. They're friends. He likes Nagito, even when he's being difficult. It's just even more difficult not to hate him because of the situation, too.

Rating: T

Warnings: References to bullying. A lot of angst because it’s Hinata pre-despair. 

Notes: I’m a sucker for Childhood Friends AUs and I like estranged relationships, so yep. This is the result. For this KomaHina Week, I tried to combine all the prompts provided for that particular day to varying degrees of success. Thankfully, I think I really like this first attempt. It could have been fluffier, but I just find the idea of them struggling with adoring and disdaining one another way too interesting. It’s pretty angsty. But have a nice day anyway.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

It’s not that he’s a bitter person. It’s more that he just can’t believe this is happening.

“I can’t believe it either,” Nagito chirps with the same smile he wore as a kid. “Who would’ve thought we’d go to the same high school, Hinata-kun?”

“I... Yeah.” He tries to not let his smile twitch even as his eyes sweep Nagito’s uniform. Warm brown, green and red vest, while his was black, black, black—“It’s...lucky, huh?”

“Very lucky!” Nagito exclaims, taking his hands. “Even if you’re a reserve, I’m still so happy to see you! I missed you!”

“I missed you too.” It’s not a lie. It’s just not the full truth, either. But it’s all he can manage while choking back resentment. “It’s good to see you again, Nagito.”

Nagito hadn’t changed at all. Neither had he.

How infuriating. It’s the first time he’s ever wanted to hate someone.

--

It’s not like Komaeda Nagito was a bad person. A bit reserved, sometimes quite pompous, but once you gave him the time of day, he’d light up like the night sky. Eyes twinkling, face beaming—it was painfully obvious that Komaeda Nagito was incredibly lonely.

So, Hinata hung around him. Nagito was eager to please, desperate to not lose the sole friendship he had no matter how many times Hinata insisted that it was fine, he didn’t mind, he’s not going to leave him. And then, Nagito was the one that moved. Hinata had to pretend that didn’t stung.

“He was a freak anyway,” his other friends would mutter. “You were too nice, Hinata.”

He wasn’t that bad. He was just—weird. But he was as lonely as he was weird. If you just listened to him, you’d understand that. That he was insecure, that he really worried about others, that he had a light sense of humor, that he appreciated even the smallest gestures—

Stuff that’d be way too embarrassing to say out loud, so Hinata just kept his mouth shut. He kept it shut and thought about how Nagito thought way too fucking highly of him if he really couldn’t do something as simple as defend him to his other friends.

I’m not a good person, Nagito. It’s probably good you got away before realizing that.

Still.

It had stung.

--

“How’s class?”

“It’s fine,” he says through gritted teeth, trying not to tear too fiercely through his bread. “I’m sure it’s pretty dull compared to whatever time you’re having.”

“Probably,” Nagito chirps, because he’s always been so bad about reading the room. Even resting under shade, that smile on his face is disgustingly bright. “But, I still like hearing about how you’re doing. It’s been a while, Hinata-kun! Has nothing interesting happened to you since? Well, besides...”

He gestures at the black reserve uniform Hinata wore. That smile finally strained, and Hinata feels the opposite of satisfaction.

“No. Nothing I can think of.”

Nagito’s expression twists, brows pinching.

“Nothing at all? Hey, Hinata-kun. Why did you join the reserve course, anyway? I didn’t even think...” He trails off. “It must have sent your family back quite a bit. They’re not struggling, are they?”

“They’re probably relieved to have me out of their hair.” Despite himself, a wry grin does finally pull at his lips. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sure your parents worry,” Nagito insists. “You’re their child, after all.”

Their child. Named for the first day of the year when I was born. But that day’s just another holiday for everyone else.

“I have you here to keep an eye on me,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

He reaches out then, and he lets his fingers card through the wild white curls of his childhood friend’s hair. Nagito blushes just as intensely as he did way back when. Perhaps more so—has he gotten paler?

I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I looked at pictures of him.

There’s no real need for it now when the real thing’s in front of me.

Nagito was such a vibrant shade of red, too. Precious. He’s still adorable. Goddamn.

“H-Hinata-kun,” Nagito whines under his breath as he’s continuously petted. “H-Hey, um, we’re not, kids, anymore.”

“We’ve known each other long enough that it should be fine, but, yeah.” Hinata does pull back. “I guess it is kind of weird. People might even get the wrong idea.”

“Oh, no!” Nagito exclaimed. “I wouldn’t want to compromise your reputation!”

My reputation?

“Oh.”

To his credit, Nagito seemed to realize it at the same time.

“Well... I guess that would be different for you, even if it’s me, huh.”

Even if it’s you.

What an infuriating phrase. And he thought Nagito’s self-deprecation when they were kids was aggravating. At least back then it had been harmless. It hadn’t really mattered if Nagito had that quirk. Just another thing to reassure him about like how the sky wouldn’t fall just because a yen bill flew into his hands.

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

But that’s not Nagito’s fault, his conscience tells him. It’s a buzz in his ear, too annoying to ignore.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says, even though it very well could be. If he wasn’t suffocated by the dreary atmosphere—maybe it would instead be at the hands of his resentful peers. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“We’re friends,” Nagito pointed out, frowning. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

“Thanks.” But no thanks. Don’t fucking patronize me. “I really appreciate it.”

It’s not his fault. Don’t be a dick.

Especially when he sees his reflection in Nagito’s glimmering gaze—and he doesn’t want that image to distort.

--

There’s graffiti on his desk. People are whispering. They’re trying to pretend they aren’t looking at him.

It took months, but his class is finally behaving like a regular class.

Hinata keeps his head down as he scrubs his desk clean.

--

“Hinata-kun, can you help me?”

“With what, exactly?”

“Ahaha, it’s embarrassing but I don’t...I don’t understand this game at all.” Nagito waves around a small handheld gaming console with a sheepish grin. It’s such an innocuous sight. Hinata just wishes they could be inside. The sunlight is hurting his head. “I’m more for mysteries and puzzles, you see. That’s pretty lame, I know, but you like this kind of thing, right, Hinata-kun?”

When he hands Hinata over, Hinata does recognize the game on the screen. It’s popular. A lot of people have talked about and played it. He himself played a demo at the game store not too long ago. But, he couldn’t exactly ask his parents for it when he had his eyes on Hope’s Peak. And this console was the latest model, too.

“If you don’t like this kind of thing, why do you own it?” Hinata asked, brow furrowed. “You weren’t exactly the biggest gamer back then.”

“I mean, I like games,” Nagito said, shrugging rather helplessly. “Just—the more niche titles and genres, I suppose? But, our class rep—she’s a huge fan of games and has gotten the entire class into them. So, I just thought I might as well...”

Hinata clicks start.

“Seriously? You’re not even past the second level.”

“I-It’s frustrating!” Nagito exclaimed, flustered now. “It’s so—it’s way too easy to die! I just don’t have Nanami-san’s incredible resolve!”

It’s not really about having an Ultimate resolve to complete something so simple.

“Nagito.” Hinata thought about the nicest way to say it. “This game is made for children. It’s not that hard. You just have to be a little stubborn.”

When he glances at Nagito’s expression, he can see those pink cheeks puffing out, that smile turning into a deep pout.

“Well then,” Nagito huffed, shoving the console into his hands. “If you’re such an expert, why don’t you teach me by example?”

Hinata snorted, but he settled on the bench, trying not to chuckle at Nagito peering intently at the screen as he started the game.

“It is frustrating,” Hinata finds himself saying as he directs the character. “Because challenge is part of the game.”

He manages to get through the stage in a few attempts. Nagito’s face scrunches up as he perseveres, learning the level and figuring out the means to get through. It really wasn’t anything more significant than watching someone play through an arcade game. And yet, Nagito kept on watching, and Hinata felt more and more cognizant of the fact.

Nagito’s hair tickles his cheek, and his character dies. Flustered, he restarts.

“Is the teacher slipping?” Nagito asks, unimpressed. Hinata shoves him lightly with a grumble.

“It’s just a game, lighten up!” He exclaims that, but his heart is pounding. “You shouldn’t even have to force yourself to be good at something to get other people to like you! I already know that doesn’t work!”

Ah. What—did I just say? Seriously? Seriously?

Nagito blinks at him, and then he laughs.

“You’re right. That’s quite the useless endeavor. You can only be good at something if you’re talented.”

What?

Hinata feels his eyes burn, and he hits pause on the game. He hands it back over.

“Right, there’s no point.”

“I just don’t want to bring everyone down,” Nagito says, smile strained. “But someone like me would be better off excluded, huh, Hinata-kun?”

Why do you have to say that? How the hell do you think I feel? I just want to deserve being here.

“It’s not a problem if you’re not that good,” Hinata said. “As long as—they enjoy being around you. They’re not going to care.”

Instead I’m forced to say these asinine words of advice that I don’t even believe. It’s so annoying. Hey, Nagito...

“You’re so kind, Hinata-kun.” Nagito’s eyes grew misty. “What a good friend you are!”

Sometimes, I really hate you.

And yet, he is Nagito’s friend. If he said that to Nagito’s face—what good would it do but hurt both of them? He doesn’t even have anyone else.

Hah. So lame. I’m stuck sucking up to this guy because I’m that fucking desperate.

“Hinata-kun?”

He’s so pathetic that even Nagito, even Nagito seems to notice something’s off. Nagito does take the game from him, but his other hand also wavers near Hinata’s face. That hand hesitates before resting on his cheek.

Nagito’s touch is unsurprisingly pretty cold, but he also feels frail enough to snap between his fingers. Nagito searches his stare, and Hinata feels dead staring back, even as his eyes almost inevitably fall to Nagito’s mouth, parting and closing.

So pink. Up close, Nagito’s striking.

“Hinata-kun, um...” Open. Shut. Nagito chews on his lower lip. “Are you alright?”

Nagito had some pretty wide eyes, too. And they were such a weird color. Gray or green? He couldn’t tell and no matter how close he peered into those depths, it was—unclear. Nagito’s breath was warm despite how frozen he suddenly seemed. And a face like that—Hinata couldn’t help but lean in.

He’s kissed a couple of girls before. A couple of guys. Those were always hurried little pecks, too fearful and anxious to be daring. Here, Hinata presses and lingers, and Nagito remains frozen.

It’s soft. Surprisingly warm. It’s not—unpleasant to kiss his childhood friend like this. It’s not like Hinata hadn’t wanted to kiss him in the past.

And now?

Hinata pulls back, and Nagito’s cheeks are terribly flushed. Blinking, Hinata nearly choked, covering his mouth as he realized.

Now what the hell are we supposed to do?!

“N-Nagito, I... Sorry! Sorry, sorry! I just...!” Furiously ducking his head, Hinata groaned. “I don’t even know what I was thinking?”

“That...” Nagito rubs his lower lip. “That was my first kiss, you know.”

Shit.

“S-Sorry,” he helplessly repeated. “I won’t do it again.”

Nagito’s gaze flickers, strangely dazed.

“I don’t mind. Because—Hinata-kun is a dear friend of mine. Yeah. It’s only fair.” Nagito nodded firmly. “It’s only fair to repay that.”

Repay? I didn’t talk to you in the first place for a give and take. I talked to you because I felt sorry for you.

Hinata stood up and turned on his heel.

“Eh? Hinata-kun?”

“Just forget about it,” he snapped. “I’m not—if we were to get into a relationship, I don’t want it to be because you think it’s only fair. Fucking hell, Nagito, that’s now how relationships should be!” He whirled on him with a vicious scowl. “Just how fucking pitiable do you think I am?!”

Nagito went right back to gaping like a fish. Then, his lips were trembling as were his shoulders. Hinata felt the first stab of guilt, and it just made him all the more frustrated.

“I—I’m leaving. I’m sorry. I just. I need some time, Nagito.”

With that uninspired remark, he could only run away. Every pounding step, every pound of his heart, and Hinata realized his own tears had started flowing. Gritting his teeth, he cursed everything. The school, the main course, the reserve course, Nagito, and himself.

--

He was too ashamed to show his face to Komaeda Nagito the next day. So, he didn’t venture beyond the reserve course out of fear of running into him. He was a coward, through and through.

Nagito should’ve been the one to lose his temper. How shitty am I? I—I definitely do need to apologize more properly to him.

He thought that, and he sincerely felt that way. He just lacked the guts to pursue it. How lame.

How do you even make up something like that?

There wasn’t anyone to ask, even online. He really had fucked up. What was he going to do if Nagito decided he didn’t even want to look at him anymore?

Hey, what’s even the point of going on? What am I doing? Just what the hell am I doing?

There was—always that project—wasn’t there?

Isn’t that my only option?

The thought droned in his head, over and over. The oppressive figures of the Steering Committee, the gentle yet off-putting smile of the headmaster, the contract that would detail the end of his existence in no uncertain terms to begin anew—and then Nagito’s smiling face. His dearest, precious childhood friend. His Nagito, who won that godforsaken lottery and snatched up the last fucking chance Hinata had to become an Ultimate without resorting to something so serious as fucking brain surgery—

He was tempted to throw his own desk out the window to save the time of those who muttered and whispered maliciously behind his back. Although it’s not like it mattered. Who cared about what any of these fellow nobodies had to say? Who cared about them, who cared about the staff, who cared about the reserve course beyond as a fucking bank?

They were never destined for success. Why pretend otherwise.

Hinata slips out while the lesson is still ongoing. The teacher, broken and cynical as they are, doesn’t even pause to call him out. What a stupid waste of time all of this has been.

I want to scream. I really ought to scream.

He stepped outside, took in a deep breath, and he buried his face into his hands.

“...I’m so...tired of all of this. None of it matters, it’s not just exhausting—it’s tedious. It’s boring!”

It’s so exhausting and boring that he wants to laugh, as if that’ll summon even just the facsimile of glee. God, when was even the last time he was happy?

When did I get this fucking miserable?

Without thinking, Hinata passed the gates, ready to run and leave it all behind—except. There was someone waiting there. Someone who jumped at Hinata’s sudden appearance, and jerked to face him, gray-green eyes large and pale cheeks awash with color. Hinata stilled, except for his heart. His heart leapt.

“H... Hinata-kun.” Nagito’s lips pursed. “Did you leave class early?”

“When did you get here?” The question breaks through before Hinata can stop it. “Nagito, did you—were you—how long have you been here?”

“I came by a little early,” Nagito admitted. “Um, because I wanted to give myself time to formulate what to say to you when I...saw you. And so that I wouldn’t lose my nerve, I suppose. I-I wasn’t expecting for us to confront each other so soon.”

“Sorry,” Hinata said instinctively. Realizing, he swung his body down for a bow. “No, I’m really sorry! What I said the other day was awful! I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that—especially not after...after doing something...like that.”

“That?” Nagito parroted quietly, licking his lips. “I, aha, while it was a surprise, it wasn’t an unpleasant one. I’m sorry, too, Hinata-kun, for giving you the impression that I didn’t...like you. You’re a reserve, but you’re also my dearest friend. I wanted to make that clear, and I... I also wanted to warn you to be careful.”

Hinata stares at the floor.

“B-Be extra careful from now on!” Nagito stammered. “Try to be on the lookout for any falling vases, any crumbling bookshelves, any unsteady trees, any storms, any vehicles, any meteorites—! Just! Anything!”

Oh. Oh, Nagito.

“If something happened to you,” Nagito murmured. “It would truly be despairing, Hinata-kun. So, really I do think...it’d be better if we didn’t get too close.”

“Nagito,” he sighs, and his heart hurts. “You really couldn’t just reject me because I’m a reserve?”

“I can’t do that because you’re also Hinata-kun.” Nagito’s head ducked. “Even if you’re a reserve, you’re also Hinata-kun. And Hinata-kun is—important to me.”

He might be the only person who thinks that. He’s certainly the first person to say it. So, then, how the hell am I supposed to be okay with letting him go? If he leaves, I won’t have anything else. My only other option is—that. I might go for that anyway. And, when I do—

It’s not like even Nagito’s luck will matter anymore.

“You’re important to me, too,” Hinata said, because it’s true. He moves forward, hesitating but pushing on, wrapping his arms around the other. “So, even if it’s for a little while, can we stay together like this? I promise—it won’t be for long.”

“H-Hinata-kun...” Nagito stammers but he feebly returns the embrace, fragile in the circle of his arms. “Okay. Just because you’re Hinata-kun.”

It’s because I won’t be Hinata Hajime for much longer.

With that in mind and nothing to say because of it, Hinata squeezes his best friend tightly. For once, he can’t help but hope some part of him is left behind in the future.

For not just his sake—but for that of Komaeda Nagito as well.

[shazzeaslightnovels]

Sword Art Online Alternative: Clover’s Regret 1

Author: Soichiro Watase

Illustrator: Ginta

Label: Dengeki Bunko

Release Date: 10 November 2016

Art Notes: Ginta’s art and character designs are very pretty and suit the series but I would have liked more detailed backgrounds.

You can read this without having read Sword Art Online but I do think that you will get more out of it if you’re a fan of the main series and have experienced Mother’s Rosario as there are some connections. There are some characters in this who are SAO survivors, some who know people who were in SAO and the Sleeping Knights get brought up a bit. It’s also mentioned to have taken place at around the same time as the events of Mother’s Rosario. That being said, you definitely don’t need have to have experience with the main SAO series to understand Clover’s Regret as it’s pretty much it’s own thing.

Anyway, this was really interesting and I really liked it! I do think that it dragged at times but the characters and setting were great, there were some very emotional scenes and I had a lot of fun solving the quest alongside the main characters. Definitely recommend it if you want to read an emotional story that features VRMMORPGs.

Story:

Genre: Action, Adventure, VRMMORPG

Asuka Empire is a VRMMORPG with a Japanese aesthetic that friends Nayuta and Koyomi play. One day, they encounter a lost new player named Yanagi who wants to hire a player who calls themself a “detective” to help him finish off a new ghost story-themed quest within a week and the “detective”, Clevel, accepts. Having planned to attempt the quest themselves, Nayuta and Koyomi agree to help them out. But it seems like the quest is going to be harder than they initially thought and time is quickly running out...

Content warning: Discussions of death and grief

Also, from what I know, the series does end up having a romance between Nayuta, a 17-year-old, and Clevel, a man whose age is not mentioned in volume itself but who is old enough to be a higher-up in a big network security company so there’s definitely an age gap here that could squick people out. This volume doesn’t have them interact in a romantic way but it may go there so be warned.

Clover’s Regret is the Sword Art Online property that I hear the least about and I can see why - it’s only 3 volumes long, it never received a manga or anime adaptation, there is no official English translation (to be fair, this volume has a riddle that would be really annoying to translate so I can see why Yen-Press wasn’t eager) and it’s a spin-off that no one asked for. It makes sense for the GGO spin-off to exist - we visited GGO in the main series and people wanted more of that setting. It makes sense for the Girl Ops spin-off to exist - Lyfa, Silica and Liz had very little to do in the main series and people wanted to see more of them. Instead, Clover’s Regret focuses on a series of almost entirely new characters as they have adventures in Asuka Empire, a game that was mentioned only a couple of times in the main series and was only featured in the side story Sisters’ Prayer, a side story that was initially only obtainable as a bonus for the DVD/Blu-Ray sets of the anime but has since been released as a part of volume 22 of the main series released in 2019 so no one really cares about Asuka Empire and I doubt many people wanted a full blown spin-off series set in it.

Still, it’s well worth your time if you can get a hold of it and I enjoyed it a lot. It does have some issues - there are a lot of pages and pages explaining things in complicated terms that made it difficult to understand and it’s almost 400 pages long and definitely does drag a bit. Still, it was a lot of fun to watch the characters explore the quest and figure how to complete it’s puzzles. The setting was really nice to explore and I was impressed by how fleshed out it was, given that Sister’s Prayer only gives us a tiny glimpse of it. I liked that the element of ‘cheating’ was used - the game has a death penalty where a user cannot log in for 6 hours if their character dies in-game. So, in order to even have a chance of clearing the quest quickly, they have to cheat so that the death penalty does not occur. It’s plotline that you rarely see in these kind of VRMMORPG plots so I thought it was interesting. The big last boss action scene was very exciting and tense. And, yes, it did make me tear up a bit at some emotional points so it definitely did a good job there. Just a really solid volume all around.

Also, one of the things that I have always liked about the main SAO series is that it explores VR from multiple angles. Of course, VR is for fun but it also has some pratical purposes and not all of them are good and I always enjoyed that the series does explore these purposes. Like, in Alicization the VR is used to develop advanced AI for warfare, Sinon uses VR as a form of exposure therapy and the medicuboids allow people who are so ill that they can’t leave the hospital to experience a better quality of life. And this series does follow on this trend by having VR be useful for healing after the death of a loved one and it does it excellently so I really liked that.

Character:

Nayuta is the black-haired beauty on the cover and she starts off as a standard Yamato Nadeshiko character - nice, smart and doesn’t have much of a remarkable personality beyond that but she does become really interesting the further the story goes on and the more we learn about her. She plays using a “miko” class and fights with her fists and has great physical strength but weak defense. Koyomi is the orange-haired cheerful character and is my favourite character because of course she is. She’s afraid of ghosts and is a 22-year-old OL, despite her having the appearance of a middle schooler. She plays with the “ninja” class and, as one would expect, has a build that focuses on speed. She’s always complimenting Nayuta, to the point where she has lines like “If I were a man, I’d marry you. Actually, let’s get married anyway!”. I fully expect her relationship with Nayuta to remain platonic which is fine because they do have a sweet friendship that I enjoyed a lot. I hope she gets more focus next volume. Clevel is the self-proclaimed “detective” who helps out players. Given his fox-like face, I thought he was going to be the villain but he’s really not. He’s a SAO survivor and plays the game differently from others: he has a high level but single digit stats in all areas except for luck. So he’s really weak in battle but having him in the party means a higher chance of drops. He also seems to be a bit of a dork at times with his detective-like clothes. The side characters are all quite memorable and easy to care about. It’s also worth mentioning that Thinker, from the second volume in the main series, gets a very small appearance here.

Recommended for:

I think most fans of SAO would enjoy this but it’s so accessible that I think that non-fans could enjoy it as well. If you want to read an emotional story with a VRMMORPG element, you should definitely read this. If you like some parts of SAO (like the setting or premise) but hate others (like the characters, the harem element, the length, etc.), then it might be worth giving this a try because it’s very different from the main series.

I’ll definitely be coming back to read volume 2 soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to listen to Sleepless Legend and pray to the Dengeki Bunko gods for a proper Sleeping Knights spin-off.

[fysmartwatch]

Spotify on smartwatches has been a complete game changer for us!

Simply, stream or transfer your favourite music onto your watch for wireless playback any time, even when offline.

It’s another huge step towards true smartwatch independence from cellphones.

In today’s guide, we recommend the best smartwatch for Spotify currently on the market. We also recommend some awesome alternatives.

How Does Spotify Connect to Your Smartwatch?

Using Spotify on a smartwatch doesn’t yet offer all the features it does on a cellphone. It’s a very different experience, but using a smartwatch is all about making concessions right?

In this section, we take a look at how it all works and what kind of experience you can expect.

A Brief Introduction to Spotify

For those that have been living under a rock for the past few years, Spotify is a streaming service that supplies music and podcasts to its subscribers. 

There are millions of songs available on Spotify, and they cover a range of genres and time periods so that you can be certain of finding something that interests you, no matter how obscure your musical tastes. 

Spotify is commonly available on your computer, phone, and tablet, but more recently, smartwatches with Spotify have made it to market.

The great thing about Spotify is that it is free to sign up for, and you can start listening as soon as you have shared your email address. 

There is a premium service that you can pay for which has 3 key benefits (among others):

It removes advertisements from the listening experience.

It allows a higher standard of music quality (up to 320kbit/s bit rate).

Plays music without an internet connection.

Spotify is hugely popular across the world and has over 248 million active users, with over 110 million subscriber (nearly double that of Apple Music subscribers). 

How Spotify Works on a Smartwatch

A smartwatch with Spotify is not the same experience you are used to on a cellphone or computer.

Yes, you can the play music you love but you need to synchronize your watch with a computer or phone app. It’s not a standalone experience.

In this section, we explain how to set it up and also the limitations you need to prepare yourself for.

Step 1: Download the App

When it comes to accessing Spotify on your smartwatch, you will first need to download the Spotify app to your watch.

With Samsung wearables, this is a really simple process. Select ‘Apps’ from the home screen. Select ‘Galaxy Apps’. Find Spotify and install.

The process is easy with Garmin smartwatches too. This time you’ll need to find the Spotify app using the Connect IQ app on your cellphone.

Step 2: Sign Up

The sign-up process is straightforward, you just connect your Facebook account or use your email.

Important Note: Just remember not all smartwatches are able to use Spotify, so make sure you check out our list of recommended models.

Spotify will ask you to set a password and share your date of birth so that they know your age and can make music suggestions based upon that.

It’s an incredibly simple process made to make accessing music easy. There are lots of ways to customize your account when you have logged in so that you enjoy the music that you want to hear.

Step 3: Connect your Accounts

This step isn’t necessary with Samsung watches as you can sign in to the Spotify app on your smartwatch. However, Garmin users now need to sign into their Spotify account in the Connect IQ app. They will then be prompted to connect their accounts.

Step 4: Download Music (or stream on selected Samsung devices)

Now you can access the following folders in your Spotify account:

Playlists

Recently Played

Made for You

Workout

Podcasts

You may be wondering how to do this on a Garmin watch? (I know I was!). You need to hold the ‘Down’ button. This will take you to your library. You’ll see an ‘Add music and Podcasts’ option at the bottom.

Browse through what’s on offer and download your favorite playlists (you’ll need a WiFi connection).

Important Note: You can’t edit playlists or search for new music from your watch. This needs to be done using the full Spotify app on your cell phone or computer.

The Limitations of Spotify on a Smartwatch

Unfortunately, smartwatches with Spotify don’t get the full music streaming experience. It’s a little bit annoying having to download all of your music and podcasts, but in my opinion this is a small price to pay to have music on your wrist!

Here’s the lowdown on the drawbacks you can expect with Spotify smartwatches.

1. You need a premium account.

This is no big deal for those of you that already pay the monthly subscription but for those of you new to the streaming service or that currently use a free account then this could be a dealbreaker.

In order to put music on your smartwatch, you need a paid Spotify Premium subscription. At the time of writing (8/2020), this is currently priced at $9.99. In my opinion, if you listen to a lot of music then this is really good value for money but I’ll let you decide.

2. You can’t stream music (in most cases).

Spotify is by definition a music streaming service but its integration with smartwatches (at this time) isn’t quite the same. You must download music and podcasts to your watch. That means adding and deleting new playlists every time you want to “freshen” things up.

This is a very simple process but it takes time. Especially if you are adding substantial amounts of new material.

However, as you’ll see with the next couple of points too, there are a couple of exceptions.

The Samsung Galaxy Watch and Samsung Gear S3 Frontier are both available with data plans which enable them to stream music.

3. The amount of music at your disposal is limited to your watches’ memory.

Since you must download music onto your smartwatch (with the exception of the Samsung Galaxy and S3 Frontier, which can stream), the listening material available to you at any one time is limited to the memory capacity of your watch.

Generally speaking, this is around 500 songs but it really depends on the watch and also the file sizes of your songs (higher quality music will take up more space).

Personally, I’ve never found an issue with this limitation. I use my Garmin 245 Music to listen to playlists while running. A five hundred song library is more than enough. I tend to change things up every month once some songs start to get a bit familiar.

4. You can only listen using a Bluetooth connection to external speakers or headphones.

Most of the watches with Spotify that are worth having can only playback your music with some external help. This means you need to connect to headphones or a speaker using a Bluetooth connection.

I pair my Garmin 245 Music with Bose SoundSport wireless headphones for a seamless experience when running.

The exceptions to this are the previously mentioned Samsung pair. They both contain built-in speakers that can play music without needing and external connection. Just be warned, the volume is pretty low and the sound quality isn’t great.

Spotify Alternatives to Consider

There are other music streaming alternatives that are worth considering before you sign up for a subscription. Here’s a quick look at three of the best music streaming platforms for smartwatch use.

Amazon Music – At $9.99 for non-Prime members ($7.99 with Prime membership) and with a library of 50 million songs this is a true Spotify contender. Available on Garmin.

Deezer -3 tiers that range from free up to high definition streaming at $14.99 per month. It has a library of around 60 million songs. Available on Garmin.

Pandora Music – A premium account with access to around 40 million songs costs $9.99 a month. Available on Samsung.

The Bottom Line

If you are looking for a watch that plays music, then picking a Spotify enabled smartwatch is a great choice.

As a runner, my kit is as lightweight as ever. Previously, in order to listen to music while running, I had my bulky smartphone strapped to my arm. Now, all I need is my smartwatch and wireless headphones.

Just don’t expect the full Spotify experience on smartwatch because it doesn’t yet exist. Smartwatches have a few hurdles to jump before we get that kind of app integration.

Right now, this is as good as it gets when it comes to Spotify on smartwatch. And if you ask us, it’s still amazing!

The Best Smartwatch for Spotify

In our opinion, these are the only three smartwatches with Spotify worth knowing about.

There’s one clear winner in our eyes but the others are worthy alternatives.

Garmin Forerunner 245 Music – Our Top Pick

Garmin is incredibly well known and typically considered to be the smartwatch choice of people who love to get outside and exercise.

This smartwatch not only offers an excellent music experience but has GPS to track your every move.

Music Library Size

The Forerunner 245 has 3.5 GB of internal memory which Garmin state should hold around 500 songs. However, I currently have 750 songs and 2-hour long podcast episodes on my watch so this isn’t actually accurate (but in a good way!). I typically freshen the library up every month or so with new podcast episodes and playlists.

How it Works

This Spotify smartwatch requires a premium Spotify account as you need to download the music to your watch. This means that it can’t stream music. You need to synchronize your watch with your smartphone app after selecting the music you want. The synchronization process can take a while if you plan on downloading a lot of music, so it’s best getting this out of the way with plenty of time before your next run.

Another key point to note here is that the watch itself has no audio output ability. It can store the music and play it but there are no built-in speakers. This means it needs to be paired with speakers or headphones via a Bluetooth connection.

I pair mine with Bose wireless headphones for a completely wireless listening experience while running. The connection process takes a few button presses and the connection is always solid.

Interface

The Spotify music controls are reached by holding down the ‘Back’ button for a couple of seconds. This takes you to your music library where you can browse what’s available.

This same procedure takes you to the skip, volume, shuffle, stop, and play controls while you’re listening.

It’s not exactly the smoothest user experience but it’s simple and easy to navigate. Depending on the headphones or speakers that you have paired with the watch, you might be able to control the music player externally through them.

What Else is There?

The Forerunner 245 Music actually does a heck of a lot more than just play music. As this is a Spotify watch guide we won’t go into too much detail but here’s a brief summary of the key features:

Works with iOS and Android

5 ATM waterproof

GPS (and GLONASS mapping)

Heart rate monitor

Pulse Ox sensor

Fitness notifications that can help you understand whether you need to work harder or slow down.

Garmin Coach that will work with you to get fitter and faster

Detailed feedback from all your workouts so you know where you need to put your efforts

Fall and safety detection services that will help you if you find yourself in trouble; this smartwatch will even alert emergency services to come and help you.

Up to 7 days of battery life when in smartwatch mode (up to 24 hours if GPS is in constant use)

Bottom Line: I’ve owned this watch for about 6 months and absolutely love it! If you’re an active person that enjoys listening to music then I highly recommend it. Besides playing music, it’s an awesome fitness tracker that actually encourages you to get out more. It’s the Spotify smartwatch that I’d choose over all others.

Samsung Galaxy Watch

Samsung is a household name and well known for its phones, TVs, and other tech. The Galaxy Watch is the perfect choice for fitness activities as well as listening to your music throughout the day. Spotify on a Galaxy watch can be easily downloaded and is simple to access so that you don’t have to fuss around to find it.

The great thing here is that if you have the SIM card enabled version of this watch then you are able to stream music using Spotify. While this sounds really cool, it does significantly drain the battery when you are using 3G and 4G data. I also prefer playing the music through external speakers as the in-built speakers are tiny and don’t sound great.

Until smartwatch battery life improves, I prefer the Garmin Spotify implementation where you pre-download the music. The battery life doesn’t take a huge hit when listening in this way. That being said, I don’t expect everybody to agree with me.

This beautiful watch has a round face and comes in two sizes to fit all wrist types. You can expect to enjoy a full-color display, and the straps are interchangeable so that you can suit your mood to your watch look.

The fitness tracking is really good, and you will be able to swim with the watch on, meaning that you never miss an opportunity to track your progress.

Some other key features include:

Light and thin design so you never notice it on your wrist

Always on display to make it easy to check what is going on in the world

A fitness tracker with a heart rate monitor to keep you up to speed on your progress

A health coach that will work with you to improve your general fitness

A fully customizable screen so that you can get the look you want

Bottom Line: The Samsung Galaxy Watch is the smartwatch to choose if you want to stream music. It’s an awesome watch in general and much more than just a fitness tracker that plays music (which could be said about the Garmin Forerunner).

Apple Watch Series 5

The latest Apple Watch hit the shelves last year and offers a huge range of features that will appeal to anyone that wants to get a new smartwatch.

The Apple Watch is synonymous with Apple Music, but the company does not bar Spotify. Just be prepared for a seriously limited experience.

Apple being Apple currently don’t permit 3rd party apps (ie. non Apple products) to use a cellular or WiFi connection to stream. As you can imagine, this seriously limits what 3rd party apps can achieve on the Apple Watch.

In the case of Spotify, the app is available but it can only act as a controller to control Spotify playback on another connected device. This means no streaming and not even any downloading!

I can understand why they’ve done it. It’ll push more people to use their very own Apple Music streaming service (which has full streaming capabilities with a premium subscription). However, it’s a pretty annoying tactic that we’ve come to expect from Apple.

Third-party apps may well receive more support in the future but for now, Apple Music is the only streaming service worth using on the Apple Watch.

Otherwise, it’s a seriously awesome watch that’s got the best user interface we’ve seen on a smartwatch so far. A couple of other criticisms can be aimed at the price and battery life, but all in this is a really cool piece of tech.

Some of the most sought-after features of the Apple Watch Series 5 include:

An in-built GPS system to track wherever you go

An Always-On screen, so there is no more pushing buttons to check the time

An ECG app to check your heart health whenever it takes your fancy

An in-built compass

A bigger screen than ever before

Bottom Line: There’s a big compromise to make here if you simply must use Spotify. But, if you’re willing to make the switch to Apple Music you get the full streaming ability and a real quality wrist-piece.

Conclusion

If you want music on your watch there are few decent choices right now, but smartwatches with Spotify are leading the way.

However, there are a few different implementations of Spotify on smartwatches that you need to be aware of.

There are those that can stream, those that can only download to internal memory, and those that simply work as an extended remote control.

It depends what you’re personally looking for but for me the Garmin Forerunner 245 Music does a brilliant job. It’s a smartwatch with offline Spotify access that relies on downloading and storing the music internally via a smartphone. This might not be for everyone (try the Samsung Galaxy or Apple Watch if so) but for a runner like myself it’s now an essential piece of tech.

Remember, other very good music streaming services exist too. If you’re an Apple fan then switching over to Apple Music and streaming with an Apple Watch Series 5 is a great way to get music on your smartwatch too.

The post The Best Smartwatch for Spotify [Plus 2 Awesome Alternatives] appeared first on Find Your Smartwatch.

via Find Your Smartwatch

[johnathan-cowden]

Avenged Sevenfold

“Like walking into a dream, so unlike what you've seen”

In my Subdivisions essay, I briefly mentioned that I used to be a metal head. I have my problems with the genre these days, mostly stemmed from people’s misunderstanding and misuse of Djent (which I could honestly write an entire essay about), but I still do like a bit of metal every now and again, my gym playlist is almost entirely full of metal. Sabaton is an amazing band that I still listen to every now and again, and it’s pretty representative of my taste in metal. When I’m listening to metal, I’m only really looking for 2 main things: instruments played well, and absolute maximum cheesiness. With that in mind, this essay is about my former favourite band in the world, Avenged Sevenfold. Looking back on this band’s albums, none of them are really very good, but they fulfil my criteria for metal I like (with flying colours actually) and I like them mostly due to nostalgia from my days as an emo, but there is one album that I think stands out as genuinely fantastic, outside of my checklist of metal that shows I’m not taking it seriously in the slightest: their self-titled album.

I’m just gonna get this out of the way quickly so I don’t have to mention it again, the only songs I don’t like on this album are Scream, and Lost. Scream tries absolutely nothing new or interesting and ends up being one of the band’s most generic and forgettable songs, whereas while Lost is certainly experimental for the band, I don’t think the experiments they tried really paid off. With that out of the way, every other song on this album is fantastic for its own reason. While 2003’s Waking the Fallen put the band on the map as an energetic and talented metalcore band, and 2005’s City of Evil was the debut album of their new alternative metal sound and cemented them as one of the most popular acts of the new wave of American heavy metal, 2007’s Avenged Sevenfold proved that they could be experimental with their sound and have it massively pay off.

Critical Acclaim starts out with a lengthy organ solo, before the heavy guitars come in. This song features 2 spoken word political rants by M. Shadows. Almost Easy features the entire band singing, which is a first for them, proving that all its members have at least some vocal talent. (We don’t talk about the one that comes after that). Afterlife features violins, giving a dramatic and biblical feel to the song, to match its lyrical material, not to mention one of the most badass guitar solos ever played, courtesy of lead guitarist Synyster Gates. Gunslinger is the first taste of the country influences on this album, with the first 2 or so minutes of the song being pure country, as well as having a strangely emotional guitar solo from such a cheesy metal band. Unbound features fast piano arpeggios that give the song a chaotic, fast feel, before giving way to a choir at the end of the song. Brompton Cocktail features a deep string section that is present throughout the entire song, as well as a melody that makes a brief appearance and would later also appear again 2 songs down. Lost is the only experiment on this album that doesn’t work in my opinion, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s the least experimental for the band apart from Scream. All that’s really different is that a strange talk box effect is put on Shadows’ voice, one that I find very distracting and annoying. Other than that it’s just a generic Avenged Sevenfold song. The next song on is a Little Piece of Heaven, a song that features an entire orchestra, which the guitars take a backseat to for most of the song. To cut a long story short, it tells the story of 2 people who come back from the dead and essentially have a zombie wedding, showing that the classic alternative metal cheesiness isn’t entirely missing on this album. The last song of the album is Dear God. This isn’t even metal. It could barely be considered rock. Primarily, this is a country song. It’s also my favourite song on the album, and is a clear example of the band demonstrating that they aren’t just metal through and through, they can do other genres, and in the case of country, better than a lot of the artists who are supposed to be all about that genre.

In conclusion, listen to this album. It’s very much worth your time if you like metal and are sick of all the bands devoid of all talent butchering the genre of Djent, and you just want to hear some good creative metal. And if you heard this album as a kid like I did, take a listen to it again. If you didn’t notice and appreciate how it’s different from their other works then, you might do now.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Hidden Gems of the Silver Screen (And, to a Lesser Extent, the Telly)

It can’t have escaped your notice that the majority of my more recent posts (and fuck knows I’m not posting regularly at the moment) are about movies and TV. The reason for that is pretty simple: 2019 has, surprisingly, yielded some great movies and TV... and also some really torrid shite. On the one hand, films like Ma, Brightburn and The Perfection continue to breathe new life into the horror genre. On the other hand, sci-fi as a cinematic and televised thing continues to ignore its actual audience in favour of sniffing its own farts in a sound-proof chamber designed specifically for next-level virtue-signalling. One thing I will say about the dreck of 2019 is that it’s interesting dreck, at least so far. Another Life, for example, isn’t just bad: it’s mind-bogglingly, fascinatingly bad, as though someone set out to make the worst TV series imaginable and accidentally created a portal to another dimension made entirely of crap.

With all the amazingly wonderful and transifxingly terrible visual media on offer lately, it’s easy to forget that there’s a rich repository of films and TV series from just a few years ago that you’ve probably never watched. You see if you, like me, are a snooty, card-carrying member of the elitist intelligentsia, you probably missed films and TV series that looked dumb as soup on the surface on the grounds that they weren’t worth your time. Luckily for you, I’ve dived nose-first into the detritus of our dying culture, so you don’t have to, and I’ve ferreted out the diamonds from the pig-swill. Without further ado, I’d therefore like to present my list Easily Overlooked Gems.

1. Mandy The phrase “Nicholas Cage stars in a sword-and-sorcery rape/revenge thriller” does not inspire confidence. It’s therefore easy to ignore Mandy and the promptly forget it ever existed. Which is a shame, because it’s kind of a work of genius. The plot is exactly what you’d expect: a cult kidnaps, rapes and kills Cage’s girlfriend, Mandy, and Cage sets out on a mission of revenge culminating in a blood-bath. The nature of the revenge quest is what puts a sting in the film’s tail- or tale, if you’re feeling puntastic. You see, a lot of the bad guys exist in a constant hallucinatory haze after taking a drug that sent them mad after one dose. In order to fight on their level, Cage has to take a dose too. As a result, the world around him slowly but surely transforms into a nightmare landscape that looks like a cross between a D&D illustration and the cover of a heavy metal album and his grubby, personal mission of fury takes on the unmistakable resonance of a Conan-esque hero’s quest. By the end of the film, you have to wonder if Cage has actually slipped into some sort of alternate dimension or if he’s just lost his game-pieces completely. In places, it’s nearly as painful to watch as Landmine Goes Click (crikey, there’s one for the history buffs) but it looks and feels like Beyond the Black Rainbow. Worth your attention just because of how weird it is. I give it a solid four-out-five decapitated rapists.

2. Baby Driver Nothing about Baby Driver suggested it would be a good film: the way it was advertised as a car-chase movie trying to be cute; the stupid title; the fact that it came and went through cinemas like a fart in the night. Which is a shame, because it’s secretly brilliant. It’s a highly stylised crime film populated with the archest archetypes money can buy (to the point where some of the dialogue has a weirdly beat-poetic feel to it). It’s saturated colour palette and off-beat affect actually have something of a full-colour Jim Jarmusch flick about them. The hook, of course, is that the lead character (only ever referred to as Baby, because he’s got a punchably youthful face) has tinnitus and therefore has to listen to music constantly to drown at the buzzing in his head. The practical upshot of this is that a) every single scene is overlayed with surprisingly great and situationally appropriate music and b) he goes through life like he’s always dancing, so his way of moving lends to the film’s easy-going sense of flow. It also explains where his preternatural driving skills come from (I mean, not really, but within the context of the plot): he’s used to sliding effortlessly into patterns and rhythms because of the music thing. All of this could make a terrible film, of course, but execution is everything and, to everyone’s surprise, especially mine, this flick was executed with an astonishing level of panache. I rate it ten out of ten grizzly motor way pile ups.

3. Nightflyers It’s not just films that get overlooked as the tide of culture washes back and forth, like a great big sea of effluent. TV series also vanish unduly into the dustbin of history. Case in point, the criminally underappreciated Nighrflyers: Netflix pre-Another Life sci-fi offering that was actually good. It’s a pretty classic set-up: a group of mismatched wing-nuts on a spaceship, all of whom have secrets that that will threaten to tear them apart while they try to make contact with an alien life-form. What elevates Nightflyers is just how fuck-uped the cast are. There’s an angry British psychic whose spent his whole life in captivity in case he goes full Scanners on somebody’s head, a guy who only ever appears as a hologram for reasons too twisted to explain here, his evil mother whose uploaded her mind to the ship’s computer and gone batshit crazy, a genetic superbeing and a hacker who can send her mind into computers via a dodgy implant and who may or may not be drifting out of touch with the human condition. It’s great. 6 and half billion out of 7 billion monkeys, boiling in the void.

4. Hardcore Henry No, I don’t know who thought that title was a good idea either, but the point is that Hardcore Henry has no motherfucking right to kick as much arse as it does. It was clearly made on a budget that would embarrass a Youtube shampoo commercial, but it just flat-out rocks. Shot entirely in first-person, it follows the adventures of a mute cyborg as he seeks revenge against the bastard psychic entrepreneur who first built him then tried to kill him. Along the way, his main ally is a dude who keeps dying and coming back to life in a series of identical bodies but with radically different personalities and haircuts (this is eventually explained, but I’m not going to spoil it for you). It’s premise is demented, it’s surprisingly well-choreographed and its soundtrack is an aphrodisiac for your ears. Also, Tim Roth is in it, so that’s just yer seal of quality right there. It came out to a lot of fanfare and many, many cinema trailers back in the day and was then promptly forgotten about as soon as it launched. So I’m dragging it kicking and screaming back into the limelight. It’s on Netflix right now, so go watch it. I rate it a solid 11 out of 15 creepy duplicates of Tim Roth.

5. Upgrade Another lesser-known film about a cyborg. Unlike Henry, however, this cyborg’s life doesn’t so much ‘rock’ as ‘suck balls’. He gets crippled and then ends up with a sentient computer chip in his head that allows him to remote-control his own body despite not having a working spine anymore. Naturally, his experimental tech attracts the attention of some unsavoury characters and he and his brain-chip have to work together to figure out what’s going on, often through a series of ultra-violent, gory fight-scenes that horrify the protagonist himself. Of course, all might be well, except that the head-chip is a homicidal little shit that clearly has its own agenda. I give it at least 0000 0111 out of 0000 1001 painstakingly restored vintage kill-bots.

6. The Tick The Tick isn’t as overlooked as everything else on this list, especially since there have been a couple of previous televised incarnations of the franchise to lay the groundwork. However, I still feel like the modern iteration doesn’t quite get the love it deserves, so I’m throwing it out here. Following the adventures a mad, amnesiac and possibly stupid superhero and his neurotic sidekick, The Tick explores a world where superheroes aren’t the paragons of good from classic comics, the corrupt psychotics of The Boys or Watchmen, or the eternally struggling, walking moral life-lessons of modern cinema. Instead, they’re just ordinary people operating at various levels of competence/incompetence and mental illness and working within a bureaucratic, wildly inefficient framework. That might not sound like a recipe for a successful TV series, but it really is. Drawing out the mundane, human side of heroes and villains against the backdrop of cataclysmic, civilisation-threatening events makes for infinitely compelling and very, very funny viewing. It’s kind of doing for the superhero genre what Futurama did for sci-fi a few years back. It’s also where the phrase and/or popular song ‘seven billion monkeys boiling in the void’ comes from. My rating is four out of five sapient, homosexual boats (which will make sense when you watch it).

7. The Void Amid the high-budget horror extravaganzas of recent years, it’s easy to forget about the void, which feels like the best story H.P. Lovecraft never wrote and looks like David Chronenberg tried to adapt a Heironimous Bosch painting... in the ‘80s. The actual plot concerns a group of people getting trapped in a hospital by murderous cultists and discovering dark secrets and, arguably, a whole other dimension in its basement. You’re not exactly there for the plot though: The Void is a mood-piece and an exercise in visual FX craftsmanship. You’re there to drink in the atmosphere and see what each new cosmic horror looks like. I am delighted to award it ten out of ten unspeakable whisperers in the darkness. That’s enough for two barbershop quartets, an emcee and a supporting act.

8. Happy Death Day It’s Groundhog Day but as a horror film starring a really annoying lass in her late teens has to keep dying horribly until she learns to stop being such a terrible person... and also kill her murderer with a little help from her newly-minted, non-cunty friend. There’s a sequel that I haven’t seen yet, but the original is a low-key, oft-overlooked delight. I give it 9 out of 11 suspiciously similar corpses.

[houseki-no-suffering]

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Human AU, 1960s AU Characters: Cinnabar/Phosphophyllite, Diamond, Euclase, Bort, Alex, Yellow

A/N: in which we meet the other half of Cinnabar’s not quite huge friend’s list. Ty so much to @lapishead for betareading my commas away and to @rinboz​ for her help with Bort’s character. Enjoy!

The thought of going home and accidentally stumbling into Phos on the way persuaded Cinnabar to linger on the beach. They hadn’t meant to, but at a certain point their body surrendered to exhaustion and they fell asleep on the sand, crouched against one of the boats that the fishermen left on the shore. It was their voices that woke Cinnabar up, a little before dawn, and Cinnabar would have apologized profusely if their mind wasn’t still absorbed by other thoughts.

Now that the realization had sunk in, Cinnabar felt even more lost. They tried to come up with alternatives as the town grew nearer, a blur of sparse lights and white buildings. The only thing they felt absolutely sure about was that they wanted to shut themselves in their new home until Phos had left again. With nothing to do except overthink and go through old textbooks, they would graduate in no time if this went on long enough.

Cinnabar was worrying their third cup of coffee in their hands when they accepted that their fingers would not stop shaking just because they were safe in the confined space of Bort’s bedroom. And an excess of caffeine hardly had something to do with it. Outside or inside, it made no difference: their mind would not stop working.

They remembered so many mornings lazily spent on Diamond’s bed when Phos was fourteen. Bort would be crouched at the foot of the bed, holding a book, and Dia would braid their hair in complicated plaits, trying out every trick they had gleaned from being around Red Beryl. They would hum and sing as they ran their fingers through Bort’s hair, and Cinnabar would listen quietly, curled up on their own bed.

It was always so peaceful and silent. Cinnabar would keep their eyes closed, pretending to sleep while waiting for Phos to wake up. The ungracious sound of their feet running through the corridor was hard to miss, but Cinnabar would have traded high school one hundred times more just to hear it.

Yellow Diamond had warned them against easy decisions, and Cinnabar could blame no one but themselves for obsessing over someone that had considered Cinnabar temporary. And yet, every foggy morning spent waiting for the train, every hour spent sitting on hard desks, surrounded by people Cinnabar did not know and didn’t want to know, left a dull, cold ache in Cinnabar’s chest. The taste of wasting time that could otherwise been spent in selfish, childish ways.  

The light that filtered through the shutters of Bort’s room was suddenly eerily similar to how the sun would caress Cinnabar’s old room at the dormitory, just a moment before Phos walked into the room to snuggle beside them. The wallpaper too was similar, with its peachy, little flowers: the more Cinnabar looked at it, the more alike it became. If they closed their eyes, their mind would make Cinnabar believe that Phos could burst in the room at any moment.

Cinnabar’s fingers clutched the cup tightly, almost spilling its contents. They needed to talk with someone.

They ran their eyes around the room, looking for an excuse not to do it. Their gaze was met by cardboard boxes and clothes, half-read books and scribbled papers. Along with the white ceiling, their newly-moved in possessions had started to judge Cinnabar’s unpacking plans, or lack thereof. It was too much work just for the sake of running away from anxiety.

Cinnabar ran a hand through their hair, debated about washing it when their fingers hit a snag in the middle, discarded even this task as too demanding, stared at the wall for a solid minute and then stood up. They walked to the telephone and placed the handset to their ear to make a call. Their chest was thumping. They truly hoped that Bort would answer because Cinnabar did not know if they could muster enough desperation to call them again later.

The mid-ranged pitch of the dial tone filled Cinnabar’s ears as they waited for the Naval Academy’s secretary to connect the call to their friend. Cinnabar held their breath, their fingers torturing the telephone’s cord. Bort was the kind of person to be home on a Sunday morning, but what did Cinnabar know.

“Yes?” and then Bort’s voice reached Cinnabar from the other side of the country and Shinsha felt guilty for being so annoying and insecure, but they still let out a breath of relief.

“It’s me…”

“Shinsha? Something’s up?”

“No, how’re you doing? How’s school there?”

“It’s okay. Tight schedule.”

Of course it would be; some people dared make plans for the future and then work to make them a reality.

“Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m here to learn.”

“Okay.”

“So, what’s up?”

“What’s up with what?” Cinnabar twisted the cord around their finger once more. Their grip was so tight it almost hurt.

“You calling. Is it Dia? Are they… okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Good.”

A couple of seconds was all it would take Bort to inquire about Cinnabar again, so they forced themselves to keep talking.

“I moved in.”

“Oh, good. How did it go?”

“Good, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Clean up every other day, you promised.”

Ugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I’m coming back for my birthday.”

“Fine, I’ll try.”

“Good.”

A few seconds elapsed and Bort’s pragmatism focused its attention back before Cinnabar could pile up the courage to hang up the phone.

“Something’s up,” they pronounced their verdict.

“Nothing’s up.”

“You wouldn’t call if nothing’s up.”

“Well, I just did.”

“I can drag it out of you, I don’t mind.”

Suddenly the thought of speaking with Bort only to have someone agree with them was no longer that appealing. Cinnabar stayed silent for a few seconds, still debating whether to tell their friend or not. Then they pushed the words past their lips.

“Guess who’s back…”

“What?”

“Back. Guess who’s back after five fucking years.”

“Wh-“ a pause, the time for Bort’s voice to betray emotion, “for real?”

“Yeah.”

“What do they want? Did you talk?”

“Hell if I know, and no, we didn’t and it’s great this way.”

“Are they out of their mind? Was Antarc there?”

There was a line of disbelief in the way Bort pronounced Antarcticite’s name. Back then, they had taken a strong liking to Antarc’s interests and it was Antarc who had inspired them to pursue a career in the military. While Bort had still judged biased Phos’ rushed choices, they had never been able to be angry at Antarc for what happened. As much as they were trying to keep their interest in check for Cinnabar’s sake, it still showed.

“Euc says they’re alone. I don’t know, I don’t wanna know.”

The line went silent once more. Cinnabar could hear the gears turning in Bort’s mind as their younger friend thought of something worth saying, settling for the simple efficiency of silence when nothing valuable came up. Bort was the person you turned to when you needed a swift solution, not comfort, but Cinnabar’s list of friends was thin.

“Are you okay?” they finally asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel. I shouldn’t even feel anything, it’s just… Phos-level bullshit all over again, why should I care... I know where this is going, it’s always the same, it’s stupid, and I don’t wanna- but I still do… I still care anyway. Like, it’s affecting me, I’m stupid. Please tell me I shouldn’t care, hit me with a stick or something.”

“Don’t self-deprecate your way out of this. What’s exactly the problem?”

“Phos is my problem!”

“Shinsha!”

Cinnabar pinched the bridge of their nose, feeling older and more bitter than their years. The exhaustion from a night spent outdoors like an emotionally wrecked vagrant was washing over them in waves of anger and disillusion, leaving Cinnabar more drained each time it pulled back.

“It’s my fault,” they murmured, “I’m afraid. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I still… I think about it cause I’m stupid and now they’re back, like… it’s them again. They’re right here. What do you think they want? Do they wanna talk? Why now? How dare they… and it’s my fault because I’m still thinking about it, I just… I wish they’d go away. I wish they’d disappear, that I’d disappear, I don’t wanna see where this is going.”

“You don’t owe them anything, Shinsha. Ignore them. They didn’t even apologize. I don’t want you to be caught up in that again. Just leave them be.”

“Isn’t that childish?”

“Phos is childish. They up and leave and now they’re back. They’re unreliable.”

“But what if there’s a reason, why do you think they came back?”

“Because they’re bored. Probably not even Antarc could stand it. They played their little games, messed something up so now they come back like a kicked puppy. And they’re still arrogant about it.”

“Yeah…” this too was familiar. Bort’s rage, the way they described Phos, Phos’ mistakes. The remnants of some old instinct were telling Cinnabar they should defend Phos and Cinnabar almost did because Bort was being harsh, fueling Cinnabar’s desire for anger to the point of spilling it- and Cinnabar was unprepared to deal with the excess of emotion. It left a bitter taste in their mouth.

“They leave, they disappear, they come back. Don’t let this get to your head, you did nothing wrong.”

“Okay.”

“And I… I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Cinnabar nodded, as if Bort could see them from the other side of the phone and of the country. They sounded like a numb, obedient puppy and it was so pathetic that they were tempted to hang the phone again and spare Bort the spectacle.

“Alright. I’ll send you my timetable, pass it around. Just don’t call me when I’m busy. Especially Euc. I can’t spend all my time at the phone.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’m coming back for my birthday, I have a leave. I can show you the uniform…”

“Cool, I’d love that.”

The line went silent for a moment, leaving Bort the time to recover from the embarrassment of opening up.

“Ask Dia to help you clean up, they’re better than you at least.”

“Thanks.”

“Talk to you soon.”

“See ya,” and, with a click, Bort hung up and the line went silent again. It took Cinnabar a moment to realize that they had been left with the burden of dropping the news that Bort would be visiting to Dia.

They let themselves fall on the bed with a loud groan, feeling the first pangs of a headache crawling their way through Cinnabar’s consciousness. They could always hope that one worry would drive away the other.

[sunnysynthsunshine]

3rd Comedy Monologue

“Do any of you remember Rugrats?”

“The 90s cartoon about talking babies that went on adventures”

“Yeah well you know Angelica the whiny,spoiled character?”

“I actually kind of liked her maybe it’s because I related to her when I was little or maybe it’s because I liked how cool she was she was able to tell the babies about stuff they didn’t know about, playing a part in their imagination.”

Anyways speaking of children,they’re alright and they are usually one of the following

“Mummy Daddy why do they get to pick a sweet not me what did I do?”

“Waaaa I want that I want that”

“Hi there, do you want to play?

“Your good at art,I couldn’t draw like that”

“Thank you young soul you are too pure for this world”

Me on the other hand,was a whinging cowardly little sod

Now I’m not a child anymore but I am still mistaken as one

Yeah,that happens

17/18 years old,old enough to vote,old enough to drive,old enough to move house & old enough to realise my phases of being a tory “skeptic” were pointless

Yet sometimes people still think I’m someone who likes ice-cream,toys and video games

Well I mean I do like those things I’m sure some of you like those things too

We are children at heart but physically and mentally we evolve and learn with time

I’ll be an young adult,and I love it I might not have a place of my own yet but I love being able to learn new things and see new places I couldn’t see when I was a kid.

Then again my teenhood wasn’t that good either because I had a developmental condition that made me different than others mentally,my interests were very intense and I got panic feelings when around crowds or in difficult situations

My primary school classmates liked JLS,Partying and other things that I didn’t like or couldn’t do

While now I’m warming up to certain things I’m still happy I didn’t like JLS.

I on the other hand, liked the sims 3,dolls,the 1980s,old cartoons and films.

So...a game where you become God,plastic models,the age of neon graphic design, and innovative video games and...yeah that hasn’t changed has it?

Well I don’t play the sims anymore,my laptop has no cd rom drive,I used up the data on my old one, from downloads I’d buy from the exchange store

Sims also was one of the few things that got me into my “emo” phase

I’d be looking at sims videos on youtube they’d usually be very sad and in the background there’d be evanescence,my chemical romance or avril lavigne

I’d be sitting at the back of the living room at a gathering and I’d be listening to Sims 2 sad story part 1 because it had good music. I later learned the names and that I was a bit of a goth,a emo,a metalhead because I liked gothic and j-metal any of that.

Dolls…..

now this was embarrassing I’m sure we all have those songs where as soon as you hear them you feel a film reel of negative memories return. For me that was

Barbie Girl by Aqua, weird because aqua are a good band,but that song oh that song it was so annoying

Picture this

Someone in their final primary school years, who still collects dolls,

Now!  Would you ignore that or would you use that outdated song as a way to mock them because they were still enjoying a thing, meant for children.

I received the latter,because of that when I’d hear people sing that song simply just because they liked it I’d get confused and offended a similar thing happened with my little pony

I used to sing and perform for people in the playgrounds other times I’d keep to myself

I loved my little pony before the new wave I loved rewatching episodes of the old 80s mlp series of goblins,witches and giants...oops that was a different show I was describing there

And one of the songs I’d perform was the original theme song

My Little Pony~ My Little Pony~

What will today’s adventure be?

My Little Pony…My Little Pony

Will there be exciting sights to see?

Nope to some of my primary school audience the lyrics were

“My little pony skinny and boney”

*sarcastic deadpan laugh*

Ha ha ha,  

Then again I wasn’t much better

I used to make youtube videos with those “dolls”

They weren’t very good

They had bad editing and barely any plot beyond badly structured fourth wall jokes

Yet I wanted the whole internet to know about them even if they weren’t interested

I was a easy target and while I did get tired of that,change interests and go into a different fandom direction

Some things were still the same

I was still cowardly,weak and timid and that was a problem

I was always following others,I didn’t make my decisions often,because of the condition and my own loneliness I couldn’t do things other teenagers could.

I never had a sleepover,I never had a crush that wasn’t one-sided and I didn’t have much independence

Even when I did have “friends” those friends I would later learn were not nice making me believe I had wasted years that I couldn’t get back.

On...the topic of regrets, dance  something I sometimes enjoy but when I studied performing Arts it was what I dreaded…

Note I’m ok with  anyone who does like to dance,party or do any of those things

I would just try to take part like everyone else but many times I was put aside or embarrassed in front of the others because of either me having a meltdown or because “my timing was off”

Yes,he did teach me some cool moves and I am more supple now but that was the content and even if I was crap I knew it and tried to practice

Everyday I’d practice each technical exercise and routine but it was still not good enough.in fact it was because of that and other reasons that I couldn’t do that course anymore

All because of,of….Craig Revel Hor not him but he was like him.

Because of that I had to take saturday dance classes...those weren’t fun

The most fun I had was from the songs we danced to and the few positive examples of small talk I attempted with the people there.

Otherwise it was not good...me and little kids specifically loud hyper kids don’t always go well when in the same place..again my timing was off it wasn’t told but I could tell

One of the moments I hated the most was the headshot day

Now we were supposed to just be getting photos taken but the photographer noticed I was shorter than she thought.I laughed it off because I know I’m short but then what did she say in response…

“Your a wee bit vertically challenged”

EXCUSE ME

Now,I may be short but in a class of kids and teens of different ages and heights I was far from the shortest person there.

When I was a teenager I wasn’t a proper teenager the only things that made me a teenager was my age,my angsty attitude and the drama I got into involving political meme posters and anime roleplayers.

The less I say about that the better

So while all the “adults” were telling me to beware of the adult years because of

Oooh responsibilities...ooooh independence ooooh….education

Honestly  it’s ok for me so far I’m a fairly organized person so studying is good,I did a assistant stage managing gig for a west side story production which was class by the way and I think i’ll feel a lot happier as a adult.

I have not much to mock about today my political jabs are sometimes good other times they’re like a bad Ben Elton joke on Saturday Live.

“Ha teresa may is like the wicked queen from snow white when she’s in disguise”

yeah? …..and  You look like you could front the band Wings mate

(pause)

Speaking of a bad Ben Elton joke

“Oh I never really understood the whole “comedy” business I always prefered being a bit of a writer and I think now with Bohemian Rhapsody being out that those critics will think

We Will Rock You wasn’t that bad.”

Wouldn’t it be nice if there was a show that layered it’s satire of the mainstream establishment under a sitcom narrative about alternative young adult characters where the comedy was good

for once

Once in every life time

Comes a moment like this

Oh I need you, you need me,

Oh my darling can't you see.

Young Ones.

Darling we're The Young Ones.

The Young Ones.

That show,oh I only watched last year but I have so many words

The jokes,the satire,the characters,the setting,the fact it still holds up

I found that show at the right time

It was august 2017

I had finished my GCSE’s,I had left a manipulative friendship and I felt horrible

When I’d go to the cinema people were making noise and I would remember the panic more than the film itself *coughs* Spiderman homecoming

I felt like I didn’t know how to laugh anymore

Summertime sadness

When edgy me came across ben elton’s ronnie barker memorial lecture

Being a fan of Porridge and Open All hours I listened and after hearing about a certain sitcom  I started watching...The Young Ones...and it was out of this world

I roared with laughter with each episode,I related to the characters and I felt a connection of some sort

Researching more about the “alternative comedy” genre and I saw a familiar name

I learned I had seen some of his work before,he was the andrex puppy,he was in that king Arthur cartoon and he was in that drop dead fred movie I didn’t watch just because internet critics said it was one of the biggest cinematic flops ever….

Yet I never knew his name until then and I’m still not over that

I looked up his other work,where he was richie,richie rich,lord flashheart and a b’stard of a conservative

(which I would later try to do an impression of, on my final girls brigade show.)

So many thoughts,so many emotions he changed my life

Many things and people have. He is one of them  

his work was incredible and iconic  and his mantras are very inspirational and useful. He made me realise a lot of things about life,my love of his work also resulted in me meeting most of the friends I have now.

It’s 2019 and I’m now the anarchist I always wanted to be,I’m out of my shell, a bat out of hell,I followed others for too long but I’m my own person now that’s who I will always be

Now say it with me   Young Ones..

You shouldn't be afraid.

To live, love, there's a song to be sung.

Cause we may not

Be The Young Ones

very long.

Oh,Doctor Rik.Mayall we miss you,you bastard

The world wasn’t as much of a crap place when you were there to cheer us up

But your still here spiritually in her hearts

As you said yourself we still have your shows  and poems

Now!  all you punks,skins,rastas,emos,hipsters,creators,viewers,performers,entertainers,observers and fellow peoples poets

let’s gather round and hold our hands in sorrow for our fallen leader

Love is the answer!  Goodnight

[catescher]

Common mistakes in Worldbuilding (Part 1)

Okay, first off: This is advice and personal. With that, I mean that this isn’t ironclad and it’s stuff that annoys me. Furthermore, this is geared to Fantasy, simply because it’s the genre I’m most familiar with. Some of it is also applicable to Sci-Fi, but I won’t guarantee everything. And please keep in mind - I was, am and will be guilty of all those points.

Alright. Mistakes in Worldbuilding. I won’t say that those grievances I will present you in the following entry are the devil but you should know what you’re doing when you’re doing something. Just saying.

Also, some of these complaints/rants/thoughts/whatever you might call them sometimes contradict each other. Sue me.

This is a two-parter, because, as it turns out, I have a lot to say on some topics. More will follow early next week.

Rules and Research

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A) DID NOT DO THEIR RESEARCH

Sorry. Major pet peeve incoming.

Also, please sit down and listen, especially those who say research is not necessary because Fantasy World.

For God’s sake, research is important. Even in Fantasy.

But why?

Say, you have a monarchy and a lot of political stuff going on. You know, fun stuff: assassination, rebellions, revolts, revolutions, and so on. But, and here is the question: How would that influence the king/queen/emperor for example? Is there an heir already lined up? Is there a council, does the monarch actually have power and is not a figurehead? How is the monarch legitimated? Mandate of the Heavens (Chinese Emperors), a descendant of a god (Japanese Tenno, founding date isn’t correct by the way), elected (Germanic Tribes or certain persons of influence in the Holy Roman Empire who voted for the Emperor) or simple power (tyrannis)? Absolute power for the monarch or is he kept in check by a constitution, the people or a parliament? How is it decided who inherits the throne?

And all of that above, as well as politicians, monarch’s parents, and even more people and offices would play a part in a plot about a rebellion against a monarch. But for all those nuances to feel real, whether the rebellion, the monarch or even both are justified in their actions, you need to do a bloody lot of research. Not to mention things like race, gender, and everything you (hopefully) haven’t experienced such as war, a specific sickness, mental sickness, and so on.

I mean, it’s not just worldbuilding. Research makes for a better story overall, even if it is only some minor detail.

Photo by Alex Iby on Unsplash

B) MAGIC AND WHATNOT

So… Magic. Fantasy world. Goes together like peanut butter and chocolate.

Or at least it should.

I mean, does magic influence your world somehow? You have magic floating around, so how is it making life easier or harder or different?

Consider magic-based transportation methods, teleportation for example. Why bother using airplanes or cars if you can just click your heels and be wherever you want to be? So you need to think about it in terms of economy and practicality: Is it a service that costs a shit ton of money? Can only few beings/persons use it? Does it have limits when it comes to distance? Why doesn’t everyone use it? You’ll need to keep that in mind when not only building your world but also while writing your story as in “Why wouldn’t the Big Bad simply teleport to the McGuffin’s location and destroy it before it destroys him?”.

On a related note: Magic should have rules. Brandon Sanderson wrote about it for example. How it looks like in his books I can’t say, I have yet to read any of his books.

But still: Do your characters only need to snap their fingers and can break reality? If they can, why haven’t they revived everyone the Dark Lord killed? This is why you need rules for your magic, to not resurrect someone if you want to - or, at least, not without an appropriate price to pay.

Let’s call it a drama-preserving handicap. Otherwise, your book would be over in a paragraph with a powerful wizard.

But overall from my experience in writing? Restricting magic from becoming too overpowered it feels better or more real- as much as a world with magic can be.

Photo by Joel & Jasmin Førestbird on Unsplash

C) THE WORLD’S RULES AND MORALITIES

On a related note: What kind of rules do your world/society have? Do they have any, for example, morality? Sure they do.

What I mean with this is that outside of magic, your world has specific rules or phenomena. I mentioned resurrection above and to continue this line of thought, are there rules and laws against it? Why are they in place?

An example for not only resurrection but also against using powers to create gold, is in the manga Fullmetal Alchemist in which it is forbidden to use alchemy to turn other stuff into gold. Why? Because it would crash the economy because gold would become worthless if too much of it would exist. A rule that makes sense when someone just has to clap his hands to have some gold on his hands.

How about societal rules? Political Rules? Unspoken laws everyone adheres to because of immense social or religious repercussions?

On a related note: Even if you based your world on a medieval European One (wherever you may choose exactly) does not mean it should inherit its rules completely. With that I mean that a sexist culture can exist in your world but making a reboot of what we commonly view the Middle Ages as so it’s basically an alternative history version of it? Come on, guys, we are writers! We are supposed to be creative!

As for a slightly different topic: What do you call a French Braid if there are no French in your world? Serious question - how do you describe it or how do you call it otherwise? Same thing with other similar named concepts or objects. I mean, do you still call it Braille if it is in another world with no Mister Braille to create it? How do you describe it? Calling it Braille still sounds weird to me.

Perfection and Flaws

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A) UTOPIAS

Of course, your world can be perfect. No bad things ever happen, no racism, sexism, or xenophobia, no wars and if there is a war it’s against someone who deserves it. The king is just, it has a stable economy and everyone lives happily ever after.

Sounds great. Utopian.

Seriously, give me a break. This is boring. A utopian society won’t exist, for fuck’s sake. Humans are too flawed for that. I’m not running around screaming realism all the time (I hope) but this won’t fly for me. Also, it takes a lot out of the conflict - why would there be conflict if the world is so great? No matter the world, the political system or the society - for someone there is going to be a flaw in it. There will be injustice. There will be bitterness. There will be rebels. There will be people who defend the status quo.

Photo by Phil Goodwin on Unsplash

B) A PERFECT HISTORY

History seems pretty clear-cut if you open a history book at times. But in truth, it is a mess. Take school books about WWII for example - depending on the country the book is from it might tell a completely different story with a different focus on certain events. Some Japanese schoolbooks at times, for example, leave out or whitewash certain events during WWII which are barely in use. With certain events, I refer to the hideous war crimes Japan committed to make it clear. Germans, however… let’s just say I had about one school year worth of learning about the Third Reich in history alone, not to mention other subjects. Still seems like a miracle they haven’t managed to cover it in Maths as well.

In any case, how history is represented can be vastly different, it’s not always clear-cut and one true version. Sometimes, three people have six different opinions about one historical event.

This is for the retrospect. Now for the actual happening history and events.

Take one event - be it a new law being introduced or a conflict happening - and people will have different opinions on it depending on their personal worldviews, religion and who they are. They will comment on it, protest it if they want to or full-heartedly support it for a reason or another. Furthermore, event A does not necessarily lead to event B and then to War Z. It’s not linear or single-minded.

Photo by Joel Filipe on Unsplash

C) DETAILS MATTER

Details such as a nomadic tribe living in wooden huts in the desert. I hope you see what I mean.

To spell it out:

1) They are nomads. Nomads don’t settle for long, so they don’t need stationary buildings.

2) It’s a desert. No wood, or at least not enough to justify building wooden huts.

Okay, this what it is: It doesn’t make sense. Nomads are more likely to have a tent or something easy to move around than a “normal” building. You need to keep a lot of details in mind, how they live. You need to pay attention to this kinda stuff.

Another detail that is often missed out on relates to stuff like basic economy or infrastructure. Who makes the food they eat? Why does it seem that everyone eats the same no matter if they are in a desert or on top of a mountain? Details like that matter a lot because the reader can suspend their disbelieves only for so long.

On a side note, conservation of detail is annoying but it’s important. If you established a rule in your world - such as revenants being killed by nailing them with silver in the heart - you can’t just go ahead and use iron or behead them. If you need to break established rules, you need to know your rules and then break them consciously.