#[ started this before I got lazy but we can keep plotting as it progresses if we need to! ]

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐮𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐞 𝐗 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ no matter what, you’d never be his priority, after Balhae, you decide it’s time to leave him behind and when he wakes up alone, he realizes how stupid it would be live without you.

warnings_ AGE GAP (not specific but implied early 20s), ANGST, SPOILERS, blood, sex pollen lol, BAD smut (not heavily detailed bc I’m lazy), biotechnology inaccuracies, etc, plot twist at the end, NO PROOFREADING YET.

notes_oh to be in a doomed abandoned space station with gong yoo and making him fall in love with me // I refuse to accept there isn’t season two of the silent sea and that Yun Jae is dead + using salesman tags to avoid the flop.

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

You can’t breathe.

Your hands shake in panic and you start violently tapping at the glass in the window.

“DON’T DO THIS!” You scream with evident pain in your voice.

He only eyes you with something you can’t identify. It’s either guilt or sorry, you guess.

“Please, don’t leave me alone again…” he hears you say.

But he prefers to let you live.

Yun Jae barely eyes you, but he’s suffering too.

The worst part? He wanted to make you believe it so badly. And you do…

Jian grabs you by the waist and urges you to get out with Dr. Hong and Luna. You sob and the sweat mixes with the tears as you make everything not fall apart amidst the escape of Balhae.

You see the moon, the stars, the freezing water, and the darkness of space. If you were on earth, you know it’d be crescent.

How can a place so beautiful cause so much pain?

“We have to keep going, y/n,” Dr. Hong says, patting your back and seeing if you are correctly breathing to save oxygen. “Hold the tears, y/n. You can’t lose oxygen now…”

She doesn’t mean to sound insensitive, you know it.

Yun Jae gave you the signals the moment you met him. It was you who thought he could change. By the grace of love, only silly you thought that was possible.

And as you lose oxygen because you can’t stop sobbing, you understand you were never his priority.

…

Your hand never let go of his. Your touch is warm and he remains cold as ice. The reports can’t assure he will get better. The rescue was full of tension and you couldn’t even remember the moment your feet touched the earth. It felt like the woman who boarded the spaceship and the one who returned were two different people. You got scared, of becoming trapped in the horrors of the memories in Balhae.

His daughter died two days before you got rescued. The body was still being held, in hopes Yun Jae awakened and decided what to do. Without water, even funerals had changed. You didn’t want to be the person to tell him the news, you didn’t want to care for him if he showed progress. Just looking at him being in the middle of life and death made you feel sick.

Your heart was beyond broken and your mind was holding you hostage of your own memories. You wanted to go back home.

And when the doctor returned with reports of Yun Jae likely waking up in the following days, you just got a reason to leave.

You eye the man you love one last time and tears pool in your eyes. You deserved to be free from any trace of pain. And of anyone who caused said pain, even when probably it wasn’t their intention.

Your lips leave a gentle kiss on his cheek and you hold your breath as you leave the cold hospital room. Through the corridors, as you walk, you cross into a familiar person.

“Jian…” she looks up and briefly smiles at you before returning to her usual face. Her hair looked longer and there was an improvement on her, she looked less shy and less quiet. “Y/n…”

“How is Yun Jae?” You sigh, remembering the reason why you were leaving the hospital. “He’s officially stable, he’ll likely wake up in a couple of days…”

“Aren’t you happy?” She asks, showing shyness once again but also curiosity.

“I’m going back home…” her eyes snap open. “What? Why, y/n?”

“I can’t be here when he wakes up” You barely hear yourself, Jian only sighs. “I miss my home, my family. I’m tired of waiting for a man and needing him to love me back”

She looks understanding, and Jian slowly nods.

“I understand” She offers you her hand to shake and it’s enough to make you smile because you consider the gesture as a silent ‘We’re friends’.

“I will call from time to time” She nods as you smile at her. “And no matter what, if Yun Jae wakes up, you don’t know where I am”

The agreement disclosure isn’t much of Jian’s liking. She believes Yun Jae loves you too. But she had said it to you multiple times in Balhae and you never believed her.

“Take care of Luna” you lastly say.

“She’s in good hands” Both of you smile again before you leave.

Your throat feels sore, and you feel like you are choking as you try to reach the exit of the hospital.

When you feel like you can’t take it anymore, you start jogging towards a restroom. You lock inside a stall. The quiet public space is interrupted by the disgusting sound of you vomiting.

Curious thing, your vomit was transparent liquid. Just water…

[one month ago]

To say the place you were habituating was cursed, was right. Balhae had proven to be a mystery and danger in less than twenty-four hours. Two people of the crew had died. You barely knew anyone and the captain was the last person you wanted to interact with. Han Yun Jae and you met in a bar. Where drinks were expensive, people judged and everyone mourned something. He grew curious because you looked young and too sane to have access to fine drinks. But it was you who exchanged the first words. There wasn’t much talk before you ended up naked and letting him fuck you in your apartment. He was soft and rough, his hair fell upon his forehead and he prioritized your pleasure before his.

Until there was no trace of him in the morning.

No note, message, nothing.

But why were you expecting such things for starters? He was a man after all…

So when you realized it was too late to back up from going to space, you accepted Han Yun Jae would be your captain whether you liked it or not.

“Do you have the map?” He asks, pointing at the dark alleyway with his flashlight before returning his attention to you.

“I thought everyone had it” he has eyes like you he’s facing the most stupid person in the world. You simply shrug uncomfortably, ignoring his eyes.

“Yes. But I’m specifically asking if you downloaded it” You resist the urge to roll your eyes and huff in annoyance.

“I have it downloaded. Happy?”

“That attitude won’t get us to the food storage,” he says and your hands form firsts. Before stepping closer to him.

“Then fucking stop judging every step I give!”

“I’m not” Yun Jae firmly says.

“Every single time. I know things are hard for everyone, mate. It sucks we had to lose two crew members so early. And I’m sorry we have to work together after our one-night stand. But I know what my job is and I don’t need you picking on me because you think I’m gonna mess up everything” The anger in your voice was hard to miss.

“Once we’re all settled in, we should talk” he attempts, but you won’t agree.

“There’s nothing to talk about” You push past Yun Jae and quietly continue following the path to the food storage.

The captain only stares as you walk away, hands on his hips and sighing in defeat.

He just wanted to protect you.

…

A trail of blood grows as Tae Suk and Yun Jae pull you up, you had just gotten out of the basement where all the lunar water was.

You start holding the tears as your brain processes the pain and you look at your leg.

“You’re losing blood” Doctor Hong alerted, moving you away so the rest of the crew could get out of the growing flooded basement.

“The plant…” you barely say.

“That’s not important right now,” Yun Jae says getting into you and Doctor Hong. You barely eye him, but you know he was fixated on you. “Tae Suk, help me out here…”

Both men slide their arms under your armpits and tangle them around your waist to help you stand up.

“Yun Jae, please bring the plant” you plead with him, starting to see blurred spots through your vision.

He doesn’t reply. The man feels his heart beating faster as your body starts feeling heavier.

He almost yelled when he heard you slipped from the emergency stairs. With the panic of water flooding the place and the mysterious intruder in the base, Yun Jae was hyperventilating when you came out, your suit ripped all the way up your left leg, and blood washing the floor.

Once the door was locked again, he took a breath, the way to the medical aisle felt shorter. Doctor Hong stepped in and helped to place you on a stretcher. You are awake but it was evident you were disassociating.

“I’ll take it from here” the doctor announced and everyone stepped back, except for Yun Jae.

“Is she going to be okay?” Both women apart from you looked at him with subtle arched brows. Soon Jian connected the dots and repressed a smile.

“I promise”

…

Without the sense of time passing, you find yourself in endless agony until the serum pumping through your veins finishes. You remove the needle yourself and it stings, but not as much as your wounded leg.

It was a fluke you could walk without much problem, but the area would be sore for a couple of days, and the suit wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable thing to wear.

Anyhow, the plant found in the basement under the database of Balhae rested in a crystal case on a table near the stretcher you were placed in.

Soon you are dressed again, in joggers and a tank top, but there are gloves, goggles, and a face mask covering you.

The leaves of the plant were oddly thin, the green was just too bright that you almost considered identifying them as neon green. It was dangerous to conduct research given that some of the lunar water must be included in the plant’s DNA.

You’re so concentrated in the process that you don’t see a figure entering the lab.

“How dangerous is the research?” You jump out startled. Your hands drop the cold tweezers and hold onto the table.

Yun Jae stands there, cautiously looking at the plant.

“You scared me to death…” you say, ignoring his question until your heartbeats return to normal. He waits until you take off the gloves and goggles. “It’s not as dangerous as the lunar water. Seems to be less invasive and corrosive”

He nods before tilting his head. You were trying your best to ignore him. But your hands start sweating, a good indicator of how nervous he made you.

“Listen, y/n… I feel like we need to-”

“I don’t want to talk about it” you firmly say, interrupting him and taking the tweezers again.

“Do you regret it?”

Yun Jae was never good enough with words. He lacked the emotional vulnerability to speak his mind. But he was a sensible man, only that he unconsciously locked himself so nobody could see that.

He didn’t know why he suddenly needed to be okay with you. He couldn’t say loved you, he barely knew you, but he was growing fond of you too quickly.

And you hadn’t answered yet…

You contemplate answering. But you don’t…

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it” You carefully grab the plant, rushing to move away from Yun Jae.

But he had other plans.

First, you felt his big hands on you. Left on your hip and right on your forearm. He made you turn back to face him and you stare nervously.

If tension could speak, it would scream.

The proximity was making you even more nervous. And how couldn’t he?

Yun Jae was handsome; tall, had warm eyes, and confident touch. If he hadn’t left without a trace a month ago, you would’ve believed he was a gentleman.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

You can feel the plant in a case being the only thing between, preventing your chests collide with each other.

He doesn’t answer. He just feels your fingers shaking, holding the plant to dear life.

Why he just couldn’t say that he cared for you and never wanted to hurt you in the first place?

“Smells sweet…” he says and you frown, confused. Until the smell hits you and you realize both of you have been inhaling the toxins of the plants without any protection.

“Shit…” you drop the plant and the case shatters, the crystal cracking into million pieces. But not even the loud sound came to be important because the moment you raised your head, you had Yun Jae kissing you.

It took you by surprise at the beginning. And when you were about to pull backward, you felt it.

The warmth growing from your chest down through your ribs, until it has you feeling wet… down there.

Yun Jae gets closer, taking advantage of the proximity, and holds your waist.

You were melting, unable to control the sudden sensation of carnally needing him so bad.

The plant was an aphrodisiac?

“Yun Jae… the plant” you try to say, but he can’t stop kissing you. And you weren’t doing much to stop it.

Your ass was pressed against the table, you want to lay on it and spread your legs for him, but there was a little auto control in your left.

“Let me have you,” he says, almost whispering. You know he’s not thinking straight, but he means everything his mouth says until the effects pass.

The next three hours feel like five minutes. The abandoned dorms were untouched, and clean, and had bunks big enough to allow Yun Jae to fuck you over there.

On your back, on your side, on all fours, on top, you did everything. Until that moment you realized women were capable of so many orgasms.

Maybe both of you passed out when the effects of the plant subsided.

“Why you didn’t leave a note or anything?” you’d ask after waking up in his arms and feeling him holding your hand.

“I wanted to stay” he answers, sounding honest enough to believe it.

“Then why you didn’t?” Yun Jae chuckled.

“I had accepted the mission of Balhae a day ago, I thought I was never seeing you again” you smile, happy to finally understand him. “It was better to leave rather than stay and get to know you. With no attachments, this would be easier, but…” you nod, kissing his cheek.

“Can I get to know you now? Given that we’re straddled in the moon…” he chuckles again, kissing your temple this time.

“Yeah, I think that’d be fair”

You wonder how much time both of you have left before the crew starts asking where the hell the two of you are.

“And if we live enough to go back home, let me take you out…”

“Like a date?” he rolls his eyes but ends up nodding while smiling.

[In the present…]

The sky was always dusty and the heat was unbearable, but the government had implemented a way to protect the households from overheating. Your access to water was almost unlimited but you liked to save the most you could.

Despite it all, it wasn’t that bad. You were close to your family and your days were busy.

You had been in contact with Jian, she said Luna was showing progress and that there were chances of studying her DNA. You never asked for Yun Jae. But you were always thinking about him. While cooking, eating, cleaning the house, before bed, you were always thinking about him. It had been ten months since you saw him the last time

There were nights when you’d wake up from nightmares about feeling like you were drowning. Till that day, you didn’t know why you vomited water. You left the organization in Korea, so you had no updates about the lunar water other than what Jian said over the phone.

The nightmares about Balhae weren’t constantly haunting you, but when they did, that’s when you needed Yun Jae the most.

Cleaning up the fridge of your house, you look at the clock and you sigh, noticing it’s getting late. You had a report due at midnight. It was almost done, and it contained a hypothetical plan to search for a tree that could slowly bring back the normal water. You turn off the light in the kitchen and you stay looking at the living room.

There was your little joy.

In an improvised bassinet, your baby was sleeping.

Min Ho was two months old. Almost three…

His father was alive, but likely, he’ll never know.

Or so you thought because someone knocked at your door.

You open the door, not ready to be shocked.

You expect anyone; family, friends, your boss. Anyone but him…

“Han Yun Jae…” You swear blood stops running through your body as you see him standing at your door.

“Can I come in?” He asks and you move aside, eyeing him.

Both of you stare at each other, trying to describe who were they facing.

His hair was shorter, and he looked less tired, but you knew he was grieving his daughter’s death. The tattoo of him you hated so much was visible through the sweater he was wearing. He looked fine as always.

He sees there's a big change in you, but he can’t tell if it’s your shorter hair or the way your body looks different. He still finds you the most beautiful woman his eyes have seen in a very long time.

And he knows he can’t lose you again.

“I’m sorry…” he says, trying to remain strong and face you.

You are speechless. For some seconds you don’t know what to do. Then you walk towards him and you raise your hand to slap him. But you don’t, because you can’t.

“You leave me… every single time” his arms immediately wrap around you.

Yun Jae feels terrible. He can feel himself growing teary. But you immediately feel his warmth and you find a new reason to keep living.

You missed him so much.

“I’m so sorry” he adds.

“And you hurt me… every single time” he fights the urge to end up sobbing with you. Instead, Yun Jae focuses on holding you tightly.

“I thought I was saving you”

“Deciding if I wanted to risk more for you was my decision to make, Yun Jae” he nods, brushing your hair as you sobbed.

“Yeah, now I understand it…” he started kissing your hair and it soothes you more than it should.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

“When I woke up, you were gone. I spent months asking Jian if she knew anything. She refused to tell me until I questioned if I should stop looking for you…” you stand stiff, wondering if your friend told him about a certain little human sleeping in the living room. “Jian said there was another reason to keep looking for you…”

You sigh, the worst that could happen was that he would leave. Forever this time…

You tell him to stay quiet and to follow you.

Yun Jae secretly looks around your place, noticing how neat and comfortable the place is.

You expect him to get out of the house as soon as he steps into the living room.

But he stands there quietly, acknowledging the baby sleeping on the floor.

The baby is dressed in a green onesie. His skin looks slightly dry but given the circumstance of the weather, he understands. He has matted dark brown hair, almost black. And he doesn’t have to question the obvious, the baby doesn’t have your eyes nor your nose.

It’s a boy…

That was the reason Jian was talking about.

He kneels to brush the back of his hand with the chubby cheek of the baby. Yun Jae instantly feels his eyes getting wet.

“His name is Min Ho, he’s two months old,” you say, kneeling beside the father of the kid. “And of course, it’s your son…”

Yun Jae silently asks if he can carry him and you nod.

He couldn’t process all the emotions he was feeling at that moment. All he knew was that looking at Min Ho caused him joy and pain at the same time. He would always love and miss his daughter. But holding a newborn when he thought he would never see that coming again, was pure happiness.

“Are you leaving again?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Yun Jae locks eyes with you, he savors the sight of your face and knows he wants to see it every morning and every night.

“Never…” he leans and you softly bump your forehead with his, silently forgiving and allowing yourself to stop grieving.

…

The smell of food fills the room. You served two plates and returned to sit at the dining table. There wasn’t enough food but it was okay for you and Yun Jae.

Min Ho had attached to him well. Both of you bathed the baby and felt so odd and domestic at the same time. He told you everything about him, from before and after Balhae.

There’s a secret agreement to stay together. You could easily find a job for him. He could rest a little and take care of your baby. Whatever he wanted to do, you would be okay with it. And he would rely on his promise. Because he never wanted to leave you again.

“I’m still surprised that he’s healthy…” you stop typing in your laptop to eye Yun Jae.

He looked so natural burping the baby. Then you remember he wasn’t new at parenthood. And you hoped Min Ho wasn’t being a painful reminder of it.

“He was premature. But I’m using all of the resources for him. My family has also sacrificed a little bit of theirs for Min Ho”

“I must thank them…” you smile, grabbing his free hand.

“There’ll be time for it…” he nods and you return to typing.

“Wait… So got pregnant on the moon?” Both of you start chuckling.

“Yes, give me my Record Guinness”

The moment of cackling is interrupted by Min Ho cooing.

“He wants to participate in the conversation too,” you say.

Yun Jae looks down at his son. He looks mostly like him, but he has your lips and skin.

Then he looks back at you and sees you invested in writing something.

“What are you doing?” He asks, standing to stand beside you.

“It’s a report, let me submit it…”

Some minutes of silence between you two, just the coos of Min Ho, and then you finally close your laptop.

“So, we’ve found a tree in South America…” Yun Jae widely opened his eyes, looking expectantly at you. “I’m waiting for researchers to bring some evidence”

“We need the evidence to survive the trip back, I’m leading the experiment,” you say, looking away at your sleeping daughter. “If we succeed, we’ll be able to produce water”

Yun Jae hugs you, his big hand caressing your head in his chest, the other holding Min Ho.

“I’m so proud of you” You smile, accepting the compliment and feeling like you are slowly freeing your love for him.

…

It’s at night when you finally accept you have been in love with Han Yun Jae before you could even accept it.

You lay naked in bed, with him on top of you, kissing you softly and possessively.

“I missed you so much”

“I missed you too” he kisses your forehead and proceeds to rub your folds with his length before pushing in.

You close your eyes, savoring the feeling after ten long months.

Yun Jae is fascinated by touching the body of the woman who gave him a child amidst chaos and horror. He can see that you went through changes, the color and size of your breasts, the softness in your stomach, the stretch marks in your inner thighs. He finds beauty everywhere. And at the same time, it drives him crazy.

“Please, harder…” you beg, barely able to talk because he feels too good. The way he slides in and out, stretching you each time no matter how wet you were. You have to bite your tongue to not wake up little Min Ho.

“You want it harder, baby?” You nod and he makes your wishes come true.

“I love you…” he doesn’t stop, he leans down and kisses you before answering you.

“I love you too”

It had been worth the wait.

…

Yun Jae hears you and Min Ho laughing. He was turning two years old and you wanted to celebrate his birthday with your family.

Yun Jae thanked them as he promised.

He was placing the cake you had ordered in the fridge and upon hearing the constant yells and laughter, he went out to see what was happening in the backyard.

He smiled at the sight.

It was Min Ho’s first time using a pool.

Rain was coming back, and woods and jungles were growing green again. Irrigation systems started being used again and the world was healing.

Yun Jae thought both of you would die on the same earth without water, but probably allowing your baby to grow up with hopes of having it again.

To his surprise, he was celebrating his son’s second birthday and soon he would have to buy a first anniversary wedding gift.

“Yun Jae, come to see this!” He hears you calling him and he gets closer, taking a seat in the towel you placed on the floor for him.

He watches Min Ho splashing water everywhere and he has to hug you because the moment felt like it was dream.

But it was real.

————

I’m ignorant, someone pls tell me the correct way of writing Korean names. For example is it…

a. Han Yun Jae

b. Han Yun jae

c. Han Yun-Jae

d. Han Yun-jae

e. Han yunjae

[bxriles]

The Importance of Authors Fulfilling Promises to their Readers

Seeing people defend Gege's writing of jjk these over these last few months is WILD. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and that includes me. So here's my 900th unhinged rant on this subject because hoooo boy there are THOUGHTS on this topic.

Before anyone comes for my throat, these are my opinions. You get yours and I get mine. And this is LONG lmao.

I've seen all the justifications for Gege's current writing saying that jjk is about being different from the standard shonen manga and being more realistic in its storytelling (i.e., killing the powerful characters) and whatever and YES. All of that is true. I don't have a problem with any of that. I would say all of that is why most of us fell in love with this story to begin with. Examples of this (done well) includes:

Nanami's death. Tragic. Broke my heart. But I think Gege was right to kill him. Nanami had served his purpose at that point, he died protecting the next generation, and despite how sad I was to see him go, I thought it was good writing. There was no need to keep him around at that point. Gojo gets put in the box. This made perfect sense to me from a narrative standpoint. Gojo Satoru is a NIGHTMARE for ANY author to write. His very existence is a problem because he can solve all of the problems of the universe and remove all conflict from the story. Sealing away the most powerful character was a perfect way to take him out of the narrative while still leaving his presence lingering over everyone. This also deviates strongly from traditional shonen because no character that powerful would have ever been sealed with ACTUAL ramifications in something more "standard" like Naruto! It broke the mold in the best way possible. I'd also say that the way Kenjaku went about sealing him was excellent. There really weren't any ass-pulls to get him in that box. Kenjaku takes Geto's body (a strategic decision), hides that body from everyone at the school, executes an insane plan that he knows will exhaust Gojo and mentally push him to his limits, and then SURPRISE! Here's your dead lover's best friend's body! Now get in the box(((: I thought it was good writing and completely necessary for the plot to progress. Megumi's possession. From the very beginning, Sukuna has been interested in Megumi. Seeing that pay off? Watching Sukuna do the worst thing we can imagine to Megumi? Amazing. Wonderful. Loved everything about it.

So, I don't have any problems with jjk's previous storytelling. I thought that it was well executed, broke the previous Shonen formula, and delivered good story telling.

You know what I do have a problem with? Writing like this:

Higuruma is suddenly as talented as Gojo. Bro what? I like Higuruma, but this dude has been a sorcerer for all of what? Two seconds? He's a suicidal lawyer who just got magic powers and only VERY RECENTLY started working with Yuji and company and he suddenly has as much talent as Gojo Satoru? The man with the Six Eyes? Be. For. Real. What is the point of this? If you needed an OP character, you already had Gojo. So again. What was the point?

Higuruma's possible death. We're only up to chapter 248 at the time of me posting this, so this may change. But as of right now, we've been told Higuruma is dead. He may come back, but we don't know. Either way, we're told dude is gone. What was the point of this death? We already saw Yuji lose a beloved male mentor figure (Nanami) and we already saw someone who had the potential to kill Sukuna fail (Gojo) soooooo... What was the point? We've seen this done before and it's boring to see it hashed out yet again but with new characters.

Kenjaku's motivations and death. I personally think that making Kenjaku a mad scientist for the sake of being a mad scientist is lazy. With all of his hair brained schemes (guys, he like straight up fucked Yuji's dad, come on), you would have thought he had some legitimate motivation. I can admit this is my own personal opinion and some might like this, but I think this is a weak explanation for all the nonsense he's done. And his death? Like... Okay?? Some rando newbie sorcerer is the one to kill Kenjaku? Kenjaku--one of the top two Big Baddies? All right?? I wouldn't say this is bad per se, but I would say it feels very unearned. (And before anyone freaks out, yes I know it's technically Yuta who delivers the killing blow, but it really was Takaba who put the work in and got Yuta to that point. Again, it feels unearned.)

And finally, the big one. The one that most people are upset about and the one that most people reference when they talk about the decline in writing and one that's about to get a(nother) long ass rant from me.

The lack of any meaning in Gojo Satoru's death.

I need to be perfectly clear that I do not have a problem with Gojo dying. Again, he's a nightmare character for an author to handle so I get it. I have a problem with HOW he was killed. Sukuna using Megumi's body was great. The whole battle of the domains was decent. But the end??? Gojo hits Sukuna point blank with a hollow purple (after Sukuna said he would die if he was hit with a point blank hollow purple) and then...? Sukuna pulls out some BS world cleaving slash that cuts Gojo in half (off screen mind you), heals himself, and then is perfectly--PERFECTLY--fucking fine after getting hit by an attack that he said would kill him???? And then he isn't weakened at all? Bro what??? How is that good writing? Even if you're all about subverting expectations and JJK breaking the shonen mold, how is that good writing? How is that satisfying???

Gojo's death meant nothing. He did nothing. He didn't even weaken Sukuna. He didn't give the students a leg up. It meant... Nothing. And I know that some people think that's the point, that jjk has realistic storytelling and that it's realistic to have a meaningless death but I would STRONGLY disagree. You want meaningless deaths in JJK for the sake of "realistic" meaningless deaths? You have Tsumiki and Yuki. Sure, Tsumiki's death pushes Megumi into the pits of despair because Shonen manga loves a good bit of *man pain* but what was her real influence on the story? Outside of the Megumi thing, she had zero impact on jjk. And Yuki?? Killed off-screen for some reason??? To buy Choso some time??? When she is arguably the more important one??? All right?? Christ, fucking Junpei's death meant more to the narrative and he was basically a fucking footnote in the grand scheme of things.

The problem with Gojo having a meaningless death is that Gege as the author broke his promise to his readers. Gege sets up a story that tells us how influential Gojo is and spends quite a bit of the narrative showing us once again how important he is. Whether he meant to or not, writing a setup like that means there will be expectations from your readers that no matter what happens to that character, it will mean something to the narrative. A good example of this done both well and poorly is Game of Thrones/ASOIAF, which is another story that breaks the mold of a genre like JJK.

Ned Stark is a POV character in the first book. He's important. He's the Lord of Winterfell and becomes the Hand. He's honorable. He's good in a world that favors the wicked and people know it. And then he gets killed and his death haunts the narrative and it means something. Robb starts a war. Sansa becomes a hostage to the Lannisters. Arya has to flee. Jon has to reaffirm that he's a man of the Night's Watch and can't go help his brother. The Red Wedding. Catelyn becomes Lady Stoneheart. The Boltons take Winterfell. The North Remembers (it's being set up better in the books I swear). And it goes on and on and ON. We're told from book 1 that Ned is important. George completely deviates from the fantasy genre by killing off one of the main POV characters in Book 1, but he still fulfills the promise that Ned's death will mean something and that Ned will be important even though he's dead. Ned's death then haunts the story from that point forward. An example of this done poorly? The show. We're told Jon Snow is important. We SEE that Jon Snow is important. Jon Snow is the rightful heir to the iron throne. And what happens? We get a season of "I dun want it!" and then he kills Dany and goes back to the Night's Watch to live out the rest of his days with his boys. He's not king. Killing Dany had no real repercussions. D&D tried to show us that it was Jon's identity that made Dany snap but it felt half-assed since she was already heading down that path before she found out. A promise was made that Jon Snow would ultimately mean something by the end of the story and guess what? Absolutely none of it mattered. He didn't even kill either of the Big Baddies. And he didn't do anything with knowledge of who his parents were. He wasn't Azor Ahai. He wasn't the prince that was promised. So it meant nothing. A promise was made to us by George (and the show runners ugh) that Jon was important and then it turned out that he wasn't. And the public outcry that GOT S8 received speaks for itself on how bad that writing was.

To me, Gojo's death is no different. The narrative sets up his importance. Gege makes a promise to the readers that this character will ultimately mean something and then... Nothing happens. That isn't "realistic writing" or "breaking the shonen formula" at all. That's just bad writing. You're not any less of a fan of jjk or any less of an analytical reader if you don't buy the whole "this is good writing because that's the point of JJK--to break the shonen mold!" There are ways to achieve that sentiment that are good. And I would even go so far as to say that the people like me who are irritated with this writing have no issues with Gojo dying. We have issues with how he was killed and how poorly it was all executed. And I'm not going to be told I "don't get the point" of JJK because of it.

And then there's the fact that Gege has set his story so far apart from other shonen manga (like Naruto or BNHA) that the readers will no longer tolerate any sort of "lemme pull this out of my ass" writing that they would have otherwise tolerated from Naruto or DBZ or Bleach or BNHA. (Note: I do love those stories btw! But they're guilty of this storytelling.) So when Gege shows us that Yuji suddenly has RCT (that's fine ig, he's been training) or tells us that Higuruma has as much talent as Gojo or does some bullshit that saves Sukuna from Higuruma's sentencing or has a random explanation that he pulled OUT OF HIS ASS for why Sukuna will inevitably get his shit rocked by the students, all of which are CHILDREN, when the strongest sorcerer of the modern era couldn't do shit to him, then YEAH. I'm going to think it's bad writing.

And yes, I am aware that JJK is Yuji's story, not Gojo's. I understand. I'm not saying I want Gojo to be the main character. I'm saying that this absurdly powerful character who influences everything was wasted in the hands of the author's current writing.

TLDR: It's not "good" writing or "realistic" writing for an author to write meaningless shit that ultimately does nothing for the story when that author has already made a promise to their readers to do the opposite. Criticizing this type of writing does not make you any less of a JJK fan and it does not mean that you "don't get it." You are allowed to be critical of a work you love.

Argue with the wall if you disagree.

[darkryt]

Hopes and Fears for Arcane Season 2

So we're getting teasers for the best show adapted from a MOBA that you can watch on Netflix getting its second season and a release date of November 24. Just today we got a little teaser clip so here's my hopes and dreams and fears for Arcane Season 2.

HOPES

Vander being Warwick. Caitlyn and Vi relationship A logical progression for how Vi turns from where she was at the start of Arcane into how she is in League in a way that's missing from her compared to most of the other characters. You can watch Arcane and imagine how Jinx in Arcane changes into Jinx in League of Legends, or how Caitlyn does or Viktor does - you might have to make some inference and assumptions, but the arc is trackable in way that is just … not with Vi. How does someone hurt by Piltover's systems so much became a person who works for those systems? Someone who fights because she has to into someone who revels in violence and power? From a loving sister whose every motivation is reuniting with her sister to an Enforcer who just beats people up? The flashback they've mentioned in interviews of Ekko trying to rescue Powder from Silco because that seems like a formative experience for how their relationship is in the modern day. My girls Renata Glasc and Seraphine, even if it justs cameos. OPTIONAL: Vi and Jinx teaming up to fight or subdue Warwick and this allowing them to heal their trauma by proxy (but propbably too optimistic for this series). Exploration of Vi and Caitlyn's relationship. Ideally with kissing and or even sex. Just something that makes it unambigously clear they are gay in a way that bigots can't point to and say "It's ambigious!!!!" More story with Sevika. I saw a theory floated online that Sevika was concieved of as way to give Vi a big fight at the end without her fighting Jinx because the writers decided their relationship wasn't quite at the point where she and Jinx would have this all-out, dragout, knock-down brawl, and I'd be really sad if they spent as much time allowing Sevika to exist and to serve as a rival to Vi only for them to dump her in a closet or kill her off cheaply as the story zeros in on how Vi and Jinx become mortal enemies. Jinx hallucinating Silco the way she does Mylo and Claggor.

FEARS

Timebomb or Ekko becoming Jinx's boyfriend, and espcially not any sort of arc where Ekko's love redeems or reforms Jinx in any way Orianna being Singed's daughter. At first I liked this idea by after a blog-post by Orianna super-fan (here) I'm off it. Jinx getting a boyfriend at all, really. Her story has enough drama without a shoe-horned romance plot! Caitlyn and Vi being queer-baited and doing lots of yearning looks that look good in an AMV but not actually progressing their relationship in any meaningful way. Vi getting amnesia. In at least some versions of League story (and League of Legends has a … let's say loose relationship with things like canon and continuity), Vi's League story involves her losing her memories before mysteriously re-appearing as a Piltover Enforcer. This is an example of a broader trend of League of Legends' approach to storytelling that makes a lot of things ambigious or mysterious (cough, so they can make it up later or change their minds). But Vi losing her memories in Arcane would be such a lazy cheap way to effectively give her an identity death in order to force her to fit into the contour of League Vi without doing any of the character building or dramatic work to explore or explain how someone goes from poor orphan to collared criminal to an Enforcer and I just really hope they don't do it! Skye taunting Viktor in the form of hallucinations that egg him on towards his eventually fall and turn to robotic villainy. Not that it wouldn't be in-keeping with the series as it stands (both Vi and Jinx see people who aren't there), but Skye being oblierated was such an obvious fridging-manpain moment that I don't want to be reminded about it, and I've never really watched the reboot of Battlestar Galactica until it was doing re-runs on streaming but there's a character in there whose whole thing is being a hot sexy succubus projected into someone's mind (and remember that's a sci-fi story) and it was so stupid and tropey that I just don't want to see anything similiar. This may not be Arcane's fault but man. I don't want them to go there! Likewise on the note of Sevika, I don't want to see her just unceremoniously killed off in the first three episodes just to make room for the Jinx/Vi rivalry. Some sort of redemption for Jinx that involves her dying or sacrificing herself. It's 2023! 2024 when this comes out! Support women's wrongs! If you ARE going to let her have a redemption, don't take the coward's way out!

AMBIVALENT Viktor completing his transformation from sickly man seeking cure for his ilnness to a robotic terrorist who thinks everybody should become a robot. Shimmer being linked to the Void. This is a theory I've see floated around due to some visuals in the scene where Viktor introduces Shimmer to the Hexcore. I don't really care if this pans out or not. Some people might want to Whether Cassandra dies. It'd be strange for her to die but Jayce and Viktor to survive (and you know those two will because they are Named Characters) but for Cassandra to die in the same room. It'd provive angst and tension between Caitlyn, Jinx and Vi, sure, but Caitlyn already has reason enough to want to arrest Jinx even if her own mother doesn't die directly from the missile. Whether Camille shows up. Given the focus on conflict between Piltover and Zaun, it's a logical step to have the walking embodiment of Piltover's oppression show up, but I don't feel like she needs to be present.

[thewomancallednova]

Okay so i was sick a bit and then I fell out of the habit of doing this, so I just sat down yesterday and investigated the other paths. I had lots of fun with the Dionysos one, very fun Greek god use, very Lower Decks, T'Ana being the most party person the ship was really the only option.

After Dionysos I did all the minor options for the six paths and got stuck on how to progress from there, so I put the book away a bit. I figured I'd have to do something unorthodox, but I wasn't sure what exactly to do. My first idea then was to just turn the page after the first choice in a "the hunted becomes the hunter" "i defy your rules" sorta way. Ryn North then killed off hundreds of adorable visor penguins. So yeah. Regrettable choice.

At this point I start making an excel spreadsheet (my signature move!) I figure maybe I have missed an option somewhere, so I just need to catalogue them well enough. While flipping through the book I realize that there's an early page which I've missed and I think it's even less likely that I just forgot to follow an option. I close the spreadsheet and do unrelated things.

As I was trying to fall asleep I kept wondering what I missed? Flagrant disregard for the rules of CYOA books wasn't it. I had exhausted every normal option. I even flipped the page after a few "the end" pages, just to see if there was a "you just had to reject death and keep going to find the solution" thing. And then it occured to me again what evil lady and bug dude said about combining options. I had taken it as something Mariner had to do, and I had to find some way to get to a page where she does that, where she's like "I could get black coffee or raktajino, or I could get both and pour them into an even larger container!" that sorta thing. It was then that I realized that if I add 28 and 10 (the two drink option pages) together I'd get 38, the very page which I had stumbled over accidentally during my spreadsheet misadventures! It's past midnight now but the spirit of discovery and excitement combined with the satisfaction of fucking figuring it out hell yeah has kept me awake.

I can now talk to Mariner??? Great! I fucking love this holy shit! Anyway, we make our way to the holodeck, disrupt the program and find out about the pile of dead Mariners (kinda shockingly gruesome considering most everything else in this book) and learn about the transporter duplicate thing. Gotta be honest, up until this point I thought Mariner was the original Mariner and she was just being brain-reset every run. But uh, no, this is so much worse! I had noticed the pile of dead bodies before (it's kinda hard to hide in a book where you flip through so much, but I just assumed it was part of some simulation again.) So Mariner dies and I figure, time to go to bed. Something something add thirty but first do something else.

The next morning I wake up, give Mariner tea, and redo my steps from last night, although I think went slightly different somewhere (I think Rutherford solution vs Tendi solution) and now the numbers are different, this time she wants me to divide by 111, at the choice where I tell her she's a holo (or not). I realize that I just accidentally did what the book definitely wanted me to do (as I basically did at every point because it is so well designed), so I add 74 and 78, divide by 111 and add 30. And I get... 31.37. Okay. Unexpected. I don't think Ryan North has invented fractional pages (yet?) although I'd have to re-read Squirrel Girl to be certain (and with comic book numbering being what it is you never know :D). But 31! That is a very significant number, maybe all of this is a section 31 plot! Those baddies and their sinister walking techniques! So I turn to page 31 aaaaand it's just a normal page. Maybe Ryan North rounds up, so I turn to page 32 aaaaaaand it's just a normal page too. There I was, sitting in my bed on a lazy morning, Star Trek graphic novel in one hand, my bachelor of science degree in the other, struggling to find the solution to Mariner's Formula. What else could this book want from me I did exactly as it wanted?

Except... I misread the instruction and it said to multiply the page numbers, not add them up. Whoops, my bad! Anyway, I do that and 78*74/111+30=82 oh look an integer my beloved! So Mariner dies horribly, new Mariner gets materialised (very Death in heaven of her :') ) and new Mariner shots the bad guys and makes holo-friends to solve the problem. And like. That was really sweet how they all worked together in the face of doom, happy to give their lives to save others and like the part where Mariner is like sorry you never got to be captain Boims and Boimler is like eh, don't worry about it Ltjg is pretty sweet too huh and shut up I'm not crying you're crying anyway, so they do the thing and save the Cerritos and even though the real Lower Deckers will never know it was them Freeman calls them heroes in her log yay recognition TT

All in all, this was fucking amazing and I will buy any future Ryan North CYOA book.

The End (and what timing since my lcs just got the first issue of his Lower Deck ongoing!)

Lower Decks: Warp Your Own Way Diary (spoilers)

Day 1: Got shot by Boimler :/ Definitely seems like an imposter though, real Boimler wouldn't do that, especially since he asked for the prefix code thingie so much at the end.

Day 2: Told Boimler to take care of his own mess which avoided me getting shot (yay), then went to see Tendi and Rutherford, which led to an encounter with the Borg. I went with Tendi's way of eliminating the Borg, But towards the end they pressured me for the prefix code again. I'm starting to think this isn't just a "various non-canon alternatives" choose your own adventure book, but some sort of "we put our silly little guy through multiple simulations to extract information" and each failed attempt represents one simulation.

[moooxy]

Idk but Lazy morning sex with Enzo

I got you guys…

Morning Glory (18+)

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Dmitri Antonov (Enzo) x f!Reader

Synopsis: You hate Sunday mornings, but your boyfriend knows how to make them better.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Squirting, unprotected sex, mutual masturbation, creampie

AN: just literal porn. No plot, just porn.

You hated Sunday mornings. You hated them because the night before you’d stumble home with Dmitri, he’d fuck you silly against your hallway wall and then he’d lay you in bed - forgetting to close your curtains. Then, you’d wake up in the morning too early due to the blinding sunlight. Dmitri always knew how to make those mornings better, though.

You groan, rolling over in your soft bedsheets. You clutch whatever you can to block out the light; whether it be a pillow, Dmitri’s arm, or even your crumpled dress from last night. This morning’s lucky pick was: Dmitri’s arm.

“Princess,” he sleepily moans out. “Close the curtains…”

“Can’t,” you whine. “‘M too comfy,” you nestle back into his chest. His arms are lazily wrapped around you, your legs intertwined in his.

“Come on,” he prompts you, fingers tapping your shoulder to wake you up. “We can go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

“Too cold. Wanna stay here,” you mumble into his bare chest. You can barely remember what happened last night, but the ache in between your legs solves that mystery.

You feel him drift back off to sleep, but you’re completely unsettled now. His lower half shifts against you, and you feel the fabric of his boxers brush against your naked core. It sends heat straight to the pit of your stomach, and there’s no chance you’re going back to sleep now.

“Dmitri,” you whisper. He groans, acknowledging you. “Can’t go back to sleep,” you frown. He glances down at you, eyes softening at your expression.

“Try for me, princess.” His tongue deliciously rolls the ‘r’, his accent always successfully sends you into orbit.

“‘M trying. I can’t,” you huff. Your hand touches his warm stomach, feeling the slight fluff of his snail trail. His fingers wrap around your wrist, gently stuffing them into his boxers and he sighs in relief.

You find his stiffening cock, fingers brushing against his balls which cause him to let out a weak gasp. “Naughty girl,” he says breathily. “Poor baby,” he whispers, accent as prominent as ever. “Need me to fuck you back to sleep?”

“Yes,” you moan at his words. “Please, Dmitri,” you mewl.

“Take it out then,” he gently orders you and you obey. He’s warm, hard, bulging already and you know he’s been awake longer than he lets on. “Good girl,” he purrs. “Stroke my cock,” he instructs. You spit onto your fingers, slathering his shaft with moisture before you start to jack him off at a painstakingly slow pace. “That’s my girl. Such a good pet, aren’t you?” He patronises, and you only hum in response.

His fingers tease along the flesh of your thigh, landing on your clothed pussy. He knows he doesn’t need to get you close for his cock, his fingers can do that in a matter of seconds. He just loves how responsive you are, he loves the cute little sounds you make - especially the sleepy ones.

Speaking of getting close, your hand progressed him further enough. He pulls your hand away, kissing your palm as he shuffles you closer to him. With his free hand, he hikes your leg up and you move your panties to the side. His cock presses against your pussy lips, he grinds his hips so his cock pushes against your already puckering hole.

“You ready?” He asks, voice raspy with desire. You nod, and he pushes himself inside of you slowly. It feels so fucking good, the burning sensation of his cock stretching your little hole feels so fucking refreshing. His pelvis slowly fucks into you, his lips capture yours in a heated kiss. His lips are wet, tongue is warm and he tastes of nothing - but through the kiss he made quiet groaning sounds and they drove you fucking crazy. “Your pussy is so perfect,” he rolls his ‘r’s, sending tingles down your spine. “Keep making those pretty sounds, princess.”

You obey him, and with each sound you make his pace quickens. Your fingers slide into his hair, his icy eyes are full of admiration as he gazes into your field of vision. The friction between his pubic area and your clit increases, and you feel yourself getting closer. “Fuck, ‘M close, Dmitri,” you whine.

“You can wait for me, can’t you princess?” He mumbles with his sexy Russian drawl, and you eagerly nod. “Good girl, I’m almost there baby, I promise.”

Your hips start to rock in time with his thrusts, your pussy clenches around him. His grunts signal that he’s approaching his climax, so you shove his free hand in your panties. Instantly, his fingers find your clit and push open your pussy lips. He knows what he’s doing, he’s a fucking professional at touching you. He wets his fingers using your pussy, dragging them to your clit. Then, he starts to rub in a figure ‘8’ whilst continuously thrusting his cock inside of you.

“Almost there,” he lowly moans, his hips plough into you faster. His grip on the underneath of your thigh painfully tightens, and his fingers on your clit rub impossibly fast. You know what he’s doing, he’s trying to make you fucking squirt.

“Dmitri, c-can’t take it. ‘M gonna squirt, ‘s too much.” You whimper into his chest, your fingers can’t help but cling onto and accidentally scratch his neck.

“You can. You want to be my good girl, don’t you?” He says sternly and you nod. “Then fucking take it,” he seethes. Then, he fucking breaks you. Your toes are clenching, fingers desperately gripping his skin, jaw clenched together so tightly you’re afraid your teeth might chip. The pit of euphoria explodes, and you’re fucking leaking all over his cock, all over your bed. “Good God,” he groans, the feeling of your wet pussy tightening around him pushes him over the edge, and he’s also releasing inside of you. He groans as he comes, before releasing your leg and lying on his back. “I made you squirt,” he mumbles with a proud grin.

“Not funny. Now we have to clean up,” you frown. He sits up, stabilising himself on his elbows. Your gaze falls to his flexing abs, but he quickly catches your attention with a sweet kiss. Surprisingly, the tickle of his moustache is the thing that really wakes you up.

“I’ll change the sheets,” he smirks. “Go run the shower for us.” He reaches out to you, hand cradling your cheek. He presses a kiss to your nose, “Beautiful girl,” he mutters with a grin. “All mine.”

You can’t help but blush, sliding out of bed. There’s cum dribbling down your thigh, along with the moisture of your ejaculation. He slaps your ass cheek, a boisterous grin on his face.

“I love you,” he adds just as you’re about to open the door.

“Love you too, baby.” You reply. You couldn’t be mad at the fact he gave you mind-blowing sex at… you check the clock in the hallway - 8.30 in the morning. You couldn’t be mad at his grin that reflected such innocence and devilishness.

[imthepunchlord]

You know what I find funny about the Agreste's? Because the writers put too many emphasis in keeping their entire involvement ambiguos, they don't work as villains at all. Just take Adrien's involvement, for him everything is more of a way out of the house and hanging out with LB than anything else.

For Gabriel is "fixing" whatever caused to Emilie, but at the same time we're SHOWN it's not quite that as Gabriel tends to overcomplex everything and forgets what's he's supposed to be doing. I bet the moment that he gets the earrings and ring, he'll blank out because he achieved his "objetive".

Nathalie apparently was into it because she's in love with Gabriel, so acts as an idiot. Emilie we're shown as someone who Gabriel idealizes more than actually loves as Adrien HIMSELF declares that he had a worst time when she was around.

So, they feel more like starter villains who HAVE NO CLUE what they're doing than someone with an actual endgoal.

This is why ML works better as comedy, since at least it would MAKE SENSE why Gabriel is frequently shown as an idiot. We're not supposed to overanalyze his objectives, he's just being a villain for the sake of it and it works better that way since the heroes are equally just half assing their job as they have no clue what's going on either.

When Felix was planned to be the lead originally, Thomas had revealed that HM was not his father. So Felix had no personal tie in to the plot and no reason to snoop around his home and family. So that could be something from Felix that stuck around with Adrien, this idea that he doesn't need to be suspicious. Which, bringing in canon Felix and having him learn everything in 3-4 episodes, it just makes Adrien look bad as a lead. 5 seasons in and he's no step closer.

Which, if Gabriel wasn't HM, there would be no issue of Adrien not furthering the plot as he has no direct tie in to it, and the biggest issue with him is just his progress as a hero. It'd still be annoying but not as irritating.

Another big issue with Gabriel wanting to fix Emilie and whatever state she's in, is that he technically has had the means to fix her since the start of the show. The Butterfly is limitless in what powers it can give out. As far as we know, it has the means already to fix Emilie. And given that Gabriel is quite an idiot, we can conclude that it never occurred to him that he needed to terrorize Paris to try to get the ring and earrings.

Which of course gets worse when he has time traveling Rabbit.

Nathalie being in love and having a deep history with both Agrestes is lazy and stupid to me.

I sometimes think back to the s1 days where there was speculation on whether or not Gabriel was HM or not. I miss those days, cause what fans thought of for the what if Gabriel wasn't HM was so much more interesting than the confirmation we got, especially playing around with Gabriel as a red herring.

Emilie was a Peafowl hero who fell in battle, Gabriel has the pin locked away and is mourning and burying himself in his work. Simon Says he sees these are child heroes and is inclined to take those miraculous away before they get hurt.

There's a thought that Nathalie is secretly working with HM, and is trying to find the Peafowl; hence her in Bubbler being afraid of Gabriel firing her. And the fun idea that she actually grew to care for Adrien and his safety, which was NOT part of the plan.

There was the thought of Gabriel secretly working with HM, patiently doing the research side of things with the book, while HM impatiently sought the two miraculous.

And a very recent thought I had, reminiscing of those olden days, was that Gabriel IS a Butterfly user, and Emilie was his champion with the peacock pin in the safe being her item. And a year prior to Origins, she died as a champion, something Gabriel felt as a Butterfly user, something he blames himself for, and Adrien looks so much like Emilie; Gabriel locks up the brooch and pin, and buries himself in his work, avoiding Adrien because of guilt and grief, and if he stops it just becomes too much.

And Mayura, aware that there was a Butterfly hero in Paris, makes a sentiHM to act as a Butterfly villain, framing the old hero, having a sentimonster do her dirty work while she lives on as a civilian and waits for results while snooping around and searching for the heroes in secret, and is never suspected. And Gabriel, seeing this, pulls open the old grimoire he found in Tibet and is trying to figure out what is mimicking the Butterfly's power. And all the while, he's unaware that his son is following his footsteps as a miraculous hero.

Doesn't this all sound more interesting? Like, not to say Gabriel is HM couldn't work and the drama of hero child vs villain parent wouldn't be fun; but these writers didn't make it fun. They're not doing anything with it. It's at a point that I think it would've been more interesting if Gabriel was a red herring for HM.

Either way, HM was NOT supposed to b e a long lasting villain. S2 is where he should've been wrapped up, though depending on Mayura, you COULD have dragged HM out to s3. But presently he doesn't work anymore.

None of the Agreste household works anymore.

Except for Gorilla who I think at this point is just vibing. If any issues with him came up post s3, I don't know them.

[keilemlucent]

teacher’s pet

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~3.2k

Keigo is a remarkably good listener and fast learner, especially when you're involved.

warnings: virgin keigo, gooey ass, soft, sweet smut, not too mention the softest keigo i’ve ever written probably?? first time oral baby, also praise kink

---

shoutout to @la-saffron for the lovely headcanons and feral shit that inspired this fic. and thank you to the wuv @keiqos for beta reading. enjoy some soft, gooey, smut. this fic is, at its root, keigo finding the clit. that’s the plot

||||||||||||||||

“J-just like this,” Your voice was soft and breaking, spit sticking in your throat. Touching yourself in front of Keigo like this should’ve been somewhat intimidating, especially with the rapt focus he had on every movement of your body and breaths. But, surprisingly, watching the way he nearly drooled at your form just made you hotter. 

When Keigo asked to date you, you’d never expected he’d be a virgin. But, with his work and his mutations, he’d never had sex or the opportunity to do so properly. Truthfully, he never even learned much beyond his own base needs to blow his load with his fist. 

But, you were more than a willing teacher.

Laying on your back atop his silken comforter was heaven, head propped up ever so nicely by a pillow that Keigo had placed under it. The night had started off with slow touches and soft kisses, all things the two of you had done before. But, it progressed to a little planned show-and-tell. 

You were splayed before him, naked over his sheets with your legs spread as he kneeled in between them. For all of his gusto and readiness, his wings were folded against his back, timidly tucked away as he took you in, gently palming his cock.

Every motion of yours seemed almost lazy. Fingers slowly pinched your nipples while your other hand played with your sex at a tortuously relaxed pace. All the while, you kept your voice low and liquidy. 

“Right here?” You circled your clit, back bending the slightest bit with the hums of heat it sent up your spine. “This is my clit. It feels really good if you touch it nice. It’s very sensitive though.”

Keigo nodded like the good boy he was, enraptured by you.

He had beads of sweat racing down his temples, hair mussed by his own touch. Other than gently pumping his own leaking cock, his only other moment was to occasionally fist his hair, a whine dribbling from his bitten lips.

This must’ve been scary for him, truthfully. All the vulnerability of not only being bare for someone else but them being bare for you. 

You had seen a bit of fear when Keigo had first started to help you disrobe, how his touch got so gentle, feather-like against you to the point of raising gooseflesh. He’d stared so cautiously at you when you first slipped down onto the covers. Despite the tenseness in his shoulders, he traced up your bare body with shaking breaths and clammy hands. 

When you had parted your legs around him, you watched how the gold of his eyes was eaten up by his widening pupils. His mouth had fallen open, cock twitching cutely in his boxers. 

But now that you two were in the heat of the moment? He was a perfect student despite his usual sarcasm and crassness out of the bedroom.

“And here,” You slipped a finger into your sex, feeling a bit of slick puddle around the digit. Keigo’s nostrils flared, wings twitching. “This is my pussy, where your pretty cock goes when you fuck me, right, Kei’?”

He nodded, thumbing over the head of his cock, smearing preek. His voice shook with his own tension and deep-focus, “Y-yeah.”

You smiled at him, shifting one of your legs to give his thigh a soft bump, “You’re doing so well, baby. You wanna know more?”

“I mean, yeah, but... I haven’t really done anything,” Keigo spoke with some remorse, averting his gaze from your body to somewhere far off. The corners of his lips tugged down, his arm going to guard over his chest as though it could protect him from his own internal fear.

That insecurity, that look of near humiliation just wouldn’t do.

“Keigo.” You spoke to pull him from his thoughts. It roused him well with the way he turned back to you, eyes widening as you slowly pumped your finger in your cunt. “You’re gonna do so much. I can’t wait for you to make me feel good. Can you help me?”

Oh, the call to help others was intrinsic and embedded in Keigo’s psyche. 

One of his half-taloned hands drifted to rest on your thigh. His expression went doughy, softening at your even softer words, “I can. I promise.”

You beamed at him with everything you had.

“Thank you. I know you can. God, Keigo,” You shook out a breath, withdrawing your finger from your sex. “Do you want to taste?”

Oh, the look he gave you. He may have been avian, but with the light in his eyes and the way his tongue dropped from his sweetly parted lips made him look far more like an obedient puppy than a bird.

You smiled at him, tilting your head as you slid your fingers into his mouth, pressing down to rub your digits on his tongue. 

“See how nice I taste? Imagine how good that will be all around you when you eat my cunt.” 

The thought had Keigo groaning around your fingers, squeezing his cock. His fist jerked from balls to tip as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Without even instructing him, he sucked at your fingers, lapping at them perfectly. You let him lave over them, his tongue dipping anywhere it could savor you. 

You pulled the digits away, admiring the way they glistened with his spit. You brought them down to your cunt, rubbing over your labia.

“Before we fuck, you gotta make sure I’m ready,” You told him, slowly pressing two fingers to your entrance. You could certainly go faster, but this was ‘educational’. “Gotta stretch me out nice, make sure I’m all wet. Well, that isn’t too hard with you around, is it?”

You send him a quick wink and marvel as he turns cherry red.

“And this is important, sweetheart,” You called his attention fully, slowing your movements. “There’s a little spot inside me, that if you hit it just right, will make me feel so good.”

You were just about to crook your fingers when Keigo stopped you, stilling your hand with his own. He gently tugged your wrist, bottom lip pushed out in a pout. 

“C-can... I try?” He was so tentative, looking shyly at you as you were so vulnerable beneath him. “I w-want to help you feel good.” 

“Of course, ‘Kei. You’re going to do so well.”

He shuddered at the praise. 

You took your fingers from your cunt to your lips, sucking off your own slick. Really, it was just to watch the way Keigo’s thighs clenched as you did. 

You flickered your eyes lower as you took your fingers from your mouth, wiping them on your hip, “Go for it, I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t. Make sure you use the hand we clipped your nails on, okay?”

Ever diligent, Keigo genuinely checked his hand to make sure it was the correct one, talons tamed for the specific instruction that was occurring.

With all the grace and tenderness he could muster, Keigo gripped your thigh, massaging the muscles on his way to your cunt. It was cute, the way he fell forward as he did, ending up propped up on his elbows between your legs. There was pure awe in his eyes as his finger reached the apex of your thighs. 

He looked up at you, hesitantly. 

You nodded, shooting him a smile before settling a hand on his shoulder to rub at the tension he was still carrying in his shoulder. 

Gingerly, Keigo let his fingers drift from your hole to your clit, grinding the pad of his thumb down on the puffy nub. Keigo was a good student, truly, as his pressure and speed were enough to make you drop your head back on the pillow and let out a purely sinful moan.

He paused.

“Good?” 

His voice was so sweet.

“So good, ‘Kei. Keep going.”

He obeyed dutifully. 

His touch slipped downward, teasing the entrance before slipping one finger in. He moved slowly, but not in any way that was lazy. With the quivering of his feathers, you could tell Keigo was literally feeling the way you reacted to him. Every twitch and spasm of your cunt was his guide, as were your quickening breaths.

He pressed another in, shortly. Watching them coat with slick, slowly fucking into you again. 

“Good boy, ‘Kei. You’re doing so well for me.”

The praise made his eyes roll back in his head. 

You smirked.

“Now, baby,” You called his attention again. “To hit that special spot, all you need to do is curl your fingers.”

He frowned, flattening himself to the bed a bit more, “That seems... Very easy.”

You couldn’t help chuckle, carding a hand through his damp tresses, “It’s not hard, once you know what you’re doing. Why don’t you try for me?”

Oh, did Keigo obey so fucking sweetly for you.

You never thought that someone simply softly fingering you, so fucking kindly and gazing at you so reverently would turn you on as much as it did, but god, did it. 

Keigo’s fingers curled in your cunt, every movement precise, but not quite enough.

“A little more, baby. It’s a bit harsher of an angle than you think.”

Keigo’s brow pulled down as he bit his lip. You could feel his hot breath over your cunt and inner thighs as he crooked his fingers just right.

The cry that rang from your throat surprised both of you. Being gently touched like this, on your insides, was making you turn to liquid before him. Your nails dug into his scalp as you lightly rolled your hips into his touch. 

Your legs tensed around him as he massaged at the spongy spot. With your head thrown back on the pillow, you couldn’t see his face.

But holy fuck, could you feel it.

Keigo, apparently, decided to take some of your lessons for a spin. The searing breath you’d been feeling before was suddenly very close to your sex, just before you felt the light lap of his tongue against your clit. 

“Oh fuck, Keigo!” You fisted the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t think him kitten-licking your cunt (just once) would get you this worked up, yet you were sweating and needy for him.

“Am I doing this right?” Keigo drew his mouth away, pressing a sugary kiss to your thigh instead. 

You nodded, breathing a bit harsher. You needed more. 

“Yes, Kei’. Fuck,” Your voice trembled. “Do you want to keep going?”

There was a deliberate pause.

Keigo rose up from his spot between your legs, his actions met with a little whimper that was caught in the back of your throat.

He slid over you, straddling your hips and placing his hands on either side of your head.

You stared up, now wide-eyed yourself. 

Keigo had never looked this intense before. There was still something so fucking tender and raw about how he looked at you, a sweet smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. You cupped his jaw, tilting your head to get more of him.

He pulled away, his breath coming in little puffs as his wings slowly spread out behind him.

“Can I please make you cum? Please?” Keigo asked so sweetly, kissing down your neck. “Let me make you feel good.”

How quickly does the master become the student. Or, maybe receiver.

All the same, thoughts of training Keigo were gone. With the smoldering look he was beaming you from his amber eyes, all you could do was give him a breathless ‘yes, please.’

Keigo was smitten under your command. 

He slid down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. Nothing harsh, nothing that could hurt or be painful. Each movement was matched with a flicker of a grin from him with the way your body jumped with every touch. 

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” You lavished him in praise as he drifted down your body, settling between your legs once more.

This time, he gently hiked your calves over his shoulder, nestling between your thighs and adjusting as he needed.

You swallowed, the feel of Keigo so close making your cunt ache. You needed him in a way you’d rarely let yourself indulge before. Most of the time, the feeling of needing release after a particularly steamy makeout session with Keigo was sated with a well-used vibrator and a glass of wine.

But, to have Keigo so close and so ready?

You could feel the slick dripping from your hole at the mere thought. The coil in your gut already seemed tight with the anticipation of it all.

“God, dove,” Keigo breathed. Without missing a beat, he dragged his tongue up your cunt, stopping at your clit to swirl his tongue around it once. 

He pulled away, but not before dropping a kiss on the throbbing bud. All the while, you let out little keens and gasps, forcing your hips still so as to not overwhelm him. 

You looked down at him, lips parted and wet with spittle. His eyes met yours, lips curled in a smug grin, “You’re so beautiful. Can I taste you more?”

You could tell by the tone, look in his eye, and your knowledge of Keigo’s general demeanor that the moment he got the hang of making you feel good, he was going to take advantage of his prowess and become the most obnoxious tease. 

You savored the thought.  

“Please, Keigo. Show me how good you are.” You breathed back, letting yourself relax into the sheets as Keigo went to town.

At first, he only used his tongue. He left languid licks as he pressed as close as he could to just ravish you with what he had learned.

Keigo was obviously a very talented, well-trained person. He showed you with the way he ate your cunt like it was ambrosia and nectar, tracing shapes and sigils on your flesh with the way his touch bewitched your body, wracked with tremors and needy cries. 

Quickly, he was pressing a finger into you. This time, he wasn’t so slow, but still, the amount of care he put into the motion was almost startling. He gently pumped in and out of you, all the while still kissing at your clit. He lapped at it, nonsense words and sweet nothings being spelled out on the sensitive flesh, each movement causing hot pleasure to curl your toes and bend your spine.

You cried and moaned for him, giving him all the praise you could find your lust-fogged mind. With each utterance of how Keigo was a ‘good boy’, you felt his throaty groans vibrant against your sensitive bits. 

You cherished the feeling.

Keigo withdrew his fingers, taking a breather from licking you as well. Glancing up at you to check-in, he beamed up at your already fucked out expression.

“Feeling good?” He asked, kissing your thigh with a quick nip.

He’s getting bolder.

“Very good,” you hummed, yipping at the sensation of two of his fingers playing with your entrance. You weren’t above begging, despite knowing that allowing him to figure out how into it he would be was a dangerous move. “Please, Keigo. M-make me cum for you.”

He hummed, musing over it, Pandora’s box opened. 

Though, he seemed to decide to test out teasing on another day. Keigo was kind enough to fuck his two fingers into you, cunt nearly sucking them in with the way you were already so tense and ready. 

You could feel his smile against your clit as he tried sucking it into his mouth, curling his fingers at the exact same moment.

The gentleness, the carefulness and the love in it all nearly made your vision white out. You clung to lucidity, babbling sweetness to Keigo as he massaged at your insides, fucking them earnestly with his perfectly toned muscles behind each movement. 

As he tongued at your clit, he never took his eyes off you, watching each of your twitches and reactions and adjusting accordingly. He hardly had to, though. The slick drenching his fingers and the way your hands flew to his hair were more than enough of a sign that you were already getting close. 

“Fuck, fuck, Kei’, don’t stop—” You nearly sobbed as boiling pressure was so close to bubbling over in your belly. 

His fingers truly fucked into you as he grunted against your sex, moving with more vigor but not once losing rhythm or pace. You could vaguely tell that he was grinding against the bed, scarlet wings extended, and flapping every few moments. 

With one final kiss to your clit, you crested over the edge and let yourself go.

You spasmed around his fingers as you wailed out his name, hands flying to his hair to hold him to your cunt, grinding against his face as he sputtered out his own moans. His hips stuttered against the bed, wings beating the air a few times as your back arched and you sang for him.

He kept moving through your orgasm, pressing and rubbing at your cunt with all the technique and knowledge he could, guiding you to the last moments of your peak.

You fell against the sheets, boneless. Sweat laid sticky in your hair as your chest heaved with breath. 

Keigo, the surprisingly attentive lover, popped up from between your legs, “Was that okay, dove?”

“God, Keigo,” your vision still spun as you reached for him. “Fuck, it was so good. You’re such a good boy, such a good fucking boy, Keigo.” 

“I am, now?” Keigo’s normal teasing mood coming alive once more. “Glad to hear that. Can I do that again sometime?”

“Anytime, fuck,” You propped yourself up on your elbows, dragging him closer. It was then noticed his softened cock, wet with cum. “Did... you come? From eating me out?”

“And, uh, humping the bed.” That shame presented itself once more in his voice. Even as you dragged him closer, cuddles necessary, he looked a little ashamed. “I got a little excited.”

“Keigo,” You put your palms to his cheeks, squishing them and frowning softly, but the expression quickly turned melancholy. “That’s good. It’s all about both of us feeling good. And, did it feel good for you?”

“Fuck yes,” Keigo breathed, tension rolling out of his shoulders with your reminder. He snatched you up by the waist, dragging you to his chest as he fell to his side on the mattress. “It felt so good. Thank you.”

He peppered a smattering of kisses across your face as you giggled, all for him.  

“Thank you,” Quietly, you returned the sentiment, kissing the apple of his cheek. “For being so good, really. You really are a good listener when you want to be.”

“I guess I am, huh.” At that, Keigo chuckled, nuzzling his nose into our hair with a hum. He wrapped you up the best he could with his wings, allowing you to go gooey in his arms. 

“I’m excited to see what else you can teach me.”

|||||||||||||

taglist:  @sinclairsamess

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3

A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ

Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)

Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)

             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.

             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.

             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.

             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.

             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.

             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.

             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”

             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).

             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.

             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.

             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.

             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.

             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.

             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.

             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.

             “Karl.”

             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.

             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”

             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.

             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!

             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.

             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”

             “You sure about that?” You quip back.

             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”

             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”

             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”

             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.

             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.

             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”

             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.

             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”

             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.

             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”

             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.

             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“

             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.

             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”

             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”

[marvelmusing]

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 3

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

“Here we go.” You whisper, looking between Mobius and Loki, then up at Mount Vesuvius.

“Shh, any minute now.” Mobius adds.

“Until this entire town is wiped off the face of this planet. Imagine. All that volcanic ash-“ Loki starts.

“I know. We don't want to get too giddy.”

“Oh, come on! It's cool.”

“No, it is cool, but it's just not in good taste because...”

“They're all gonna die anyway.”

“I know. Now listen, I'm gonna watch the TemPad for any variance energy.” He says, pulling the device out from his pocket.

“Okay.”

“Okay, because we gotta be careful.”

“If you're wrong, and there's a good chance you are, anything we do can create a huge branch.”

“Oh, Mobius! You make even the end of the world sound boring.” Loki complains.

“Listen! Okay, we're not meant to be here.”

“And we don’t need Minutemen rushing here to arrest and delete us, okay?” You tell him. He nods,

“Okay.”

“Anything we do can impact the course of history. Do you get that?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“So we're gonna start with very small disturbances. Very small. Can you make bird noises?” You both frown at Mobius.

“Bird noises?”

“Yeah. Bird noises. Like some, like whooshing noises?” He begins to imitate a bird call. You roll your eyes,

“Moby? I was on the side of caution. But we’re going to need more than that.” Mobius continues his bird impressions to the disdain of Loki who groans and runs off.

“Loki!” You hiss. He doesn’t go far, standing on a nearby cart and proclaiming to the people of Pompeii that they are all going to die. On a positive note you’ve come up with a new scale to rate nexus events: starting with bird noises and ending with prophesying the future. Loki then decides to release a hoard of goats. Fantastic. Loki halts his Latin monologue to look over at you and Mobius for a fact check,

“We are from the future, right? What is the TVA? I mean, it's from the future. It sounds from the future. It's pretty futurey.” You’re about to answer him when you realise you don’t actually know. You’d always assumed the TVA just existed outside of time. Though you’re not sure how that would work. You’re about to ask Mobius when the volcano erupts. Loki then proceeds to have what looks like an existential crisis. “Nothing matters! Nothing has any consequence! Dance while you still can!” You lean over Mobius’s shoulder.

“How’s it going?” You ask, nodding towards his TemPad.

“I don't believe it. Zero variance energy. No branching in the timeline.” He tells you. Overhearing what Mobius says, Loki approaches you,

“The TVA would never even know we were here. If it were me, this is where I would hide.” A colossal cloud of ash rolls down the hillside, quickly approaching the three of you.

“Erm, Loki, bud?” You say, concerned that he hasn’t noticed. You point over his shoulder, “You got a little something-“

On your return to the TVA, the three of you head to the archives, searching for all naturally occurring disasters. Turns out there’s a lot of them. Mobius hands you a pile of events from before you existed, which you appreciated. Whilst you were curious about what happened to the world after you left it, you’re not too eager to see the long list of apocalypses. After what feels like hours of searching the three of you decide to take a break.

You and Loki are sat in one of the TVA cafeterias, waiting for Mobius to return with some food. Two hunters pass by your table, and you keep your gaze on the papers in front of you.

“Why do they look at us like that?” Loki asks suddenly. You look up at him.

“Like what?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t noticed. You and Mobius don’t get the looks that you and I get.” He observes. You sigh,

“That’s because when it’s me and you, they see two Variants possibly plotting to overthrow the TVA.” That shocks Loki.

“You’re a Variant.” He states, and you nod,

“I was set to be deleted, until Mobius stepped in and saved me.”

“You must be very grateful to him.”

“I am.”

“So you believe in the all powerful lizards which dictate the existence of trillions of people?” You smirk, looking down at the papers in your hand.

“I didn’t say that.” You glance up at him, recognising the look on his face immediately. He was scheming. “Look Loki, I may not be a hundred percent loyal to the TVA, but I am to Mobius.”

“Mobius, who is a part of the TVA, who you don’t fully trust. How can you know he has your best interests at heart?”

“I don’t. I’m just hoping, that he does.” Mobius soon joins the two of you. After a brief discussion about jet skis the conversation quickly turns far too philosophical for your poor ‘I’ve just read about a million case files’ brain.

“I don't get hung up on believe or not believe. I just accept what is.” Mobius says with a sigh. Loki looks at him incredulously.

“Three magic space lizards?” Mobius nods,

“Time-Keepers.”

“Created the TVA, and everyone in it?” Mobius nods again. “Including you?”

“Including me.”

“But not me.” You add. Loki laughs softly,

“Every time I start to admire your intelligence, you say something like that.”

“Okay, who created you, Loki?” Mobius asks.

“A Frost Giant of Jo

“And who raised you?”

Odin of Asgard.

Odin, God of the Heavens. Asgard, mystical realm, beyond the stars. Frost Giants. Listen to yourself...

It's not the same. It's completely different. No. It's not the same.

It's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose. Cause the TVA is my life. And it's real because I believe it's real. “Fair enough. You believe it's real.”

“Yeah.”

“So everything is written. Past, present, future. There's no such thing as free will.”

“Well, I mean, you know, it's an oversimplification...”

“But practically, yes.” You say, not wanting to hear the in-depth workings of the timeline.

“So, in fact, in a way, us three here at the TVA, we're the only ones who are actually free.”

“Where are you going with this, Loki?”

“How does it all end?”

“That's a work in progress.”

“Those lazy Time-Keepers. What are they waiting for?”

“Au contraire. Because while we protect what came before, they're toiling away in their chamber, untangling the epilogue from its infinite branches.”

“So when they're finished, what happens then?”

“So are we. No more nexus events. Just order. And we meet in peace at the end of time. Nice, right?”

“Do we get to live in peace or do we just disappear because we aren’t needed anymore?” You ask, suddenly concerned that he mentioned the end of time. Loki continues his own questions,

“Only order?” Mobius hums in response. “No chaos? It sounds boring.”

“I'm sure it does to you.” Loki suddenly changes the subject,

“You called me a scared little boy.”

“I called you a lotta things.”

“You did. You're wrong, though. You see, I know something children don't.”

“What's that?”

“That no one bad is ever truly bad. And no one good is ever truly good.” Well that was deep. Mobius looks down at the table in front of him.

“Scared little boy.” He repeats.

“Yes, it was quite patronizing. I thought it was a bit too far, actually.” Loki admits. Mobius looks up, an idea dawning on his face.

“You're very clever.” He tells Loki as he stands up.

“I know.” Loki makes a ‘well obviously’ face as you stand and follow Mobius as he makes his way to the archive.

“The Variant left something behind at an old crime scene. A cathedral. A candy box. An obvious anachronism. I gave it to Analysis, but they couldn't find anything real.”

“Why does that matter?” Loki asks. Mobius unlocks a box on a nearby shelf, before opening it up.

“Cause now we have two variables. Apocalyptic natural disasters and... Kablooie.” He pulls out the candy box.

“What's that?”

“Candy. Do you have candy on Asgard?”

“Yeah. Grapes, nuts.”

“No wonder you're so bitter.”

“There’s a massive vending machine near Renslayer’s office. One time, I’ll buy you one of everything.” You tell Loki as the two of you sit down at your desk. Mobius returns with a huge stack of files.

“Okay. Kablooie was only sold regionally on Earth from 2047 to 2051. All ya gotta do is cross-reference that with every apocalyptic event.” The three of you sit, sorting through the files for sometime. Mobius looks up at you,

“Anything?”

“Well, it's not the climate disaster of 2048.” You tell him, flicking the page over.

“Or the tsunami of 2051.” Loki adds.

“Let's go. Let's go. Come on.”

“2050. The extinction of the swallow. Is that a thing?”

“We killed off the swallows?” You stare at Loki. “How the hell did that happen?” Mobius shrugs,

“Completely screwed up the ecosystem.”

“Krakatoa erupted in 2049 as well. No Kablooie.”

“God, it's just one damn thing after another, isn't it? Cyclone, famine, volcanoes, floods...” Mobius lists, and you can’t help but agree.

“Got him. That's where he is.” Loki pulls open a case file before offering it to you and Mobius. The two of you peer at the papers inside.

“Alabama, 2050.” You read aloud. Loki looks at you both, seeming rather pleased with himself. Mobius grins,

“You're gonna take my job if I'm not careful.”

Tagslist: @n0obmaster69 @mackycat11 @wibblywobblyjeremybearimy @boriqs @aloisia @fandom-lover-4 @lam-ila @momos-peaches @gracey07 @morganwilliams @greeneyedblondie44

If you’d like to be tagged, just ask!!

[logically-asexual]

im so annoyed about this whole remus and logan thing i can’t stop thinking about it. so a long ramble under the cut.

i finally am being able to put into words what bothers me about logan’s character development, particularly him vs the dark sides.

first of all, virgil. virgil had a whole season for his development that was kind of natural and credible. he is a nuisance in different ways, thomas recognizes he has anxiety and looks for ways to cope, which logan learns to bring up later, then virgil keeps causing trouble but makes some good points sometimes, then thomas decides to accept him for the good he brings and they all manage better. all this happens within episodes that aren’t always about anxiety. they SHOW us how the sides’ perception of him and his character have changed through the stories, instead of lecturing us about it.

with janus they kind of attempted the same thing but with a speedrun of three episodes that crammed everything together with little plot. in fact the plot is just an excuse to make every single step of janus’s developement happen, and this progress with janus is the center of the episodes. at least there is some plot, but its not as natural, we don’t see thomas struggle with him casually, we don’t see logan or patton learning information about how to deal with him. its not how a normal person would go through this. but we do see different stages of his acceptance and we see all the sides learning new things about janus gradually.

but then with remus they just pressed literally everything in one video and all the learning thomas would have to do about him and dealing with him that he did with virgil in an entire year happens in?? 40 minutes? because he (logan) somehow already knew everything and he just had to remind himself (patton and virgil) of it?

that’s how i see the dark sides’ development (?). now logan.

with virgil you could assume logan took note of what Lilly said in that first video, then logan and had thomas research about it and find strategies to later use them when they were necessary. as if Taking on Anxiety was a first step with learner’s wheels and then My Negative Thinking was thomas being able to repeat the process on his own. it makes sense. first someone teaches you and then you do it independently. you can believe there was a learning process with Logan’s help right there, beginning with Logan (and thomas) not knowing something and then researching (between videos), understanding it, to finally accepting it.

after the debate logan was still neutral about virgil, and was pushed to reflect more about his role until he disappeared, to finally come to the realization of why he was necessary, by remembering a small fact he learned while researching strategies (the yerkes dodson curve). that one isnt a streategy, so makes sense that logan just saved the info and didnt completely internalize it until it became useful. thomas learned what he was told to and then used it when the situation required it.

but with janus and remus thomas has to figure it all out on his own. except he doesn’t, because Logan already knew everything. he already knows what the dark sides represent, every single thing they encompass, he knows what the studies say about the problems they cause, he has understood, accepted, and internalized everything before the videos even start!! and then its only him telling the rest of the sides what he already learned on his own? he learned all this with the rest not being present or without it causing any emotion whatsoever? how can logan memorize all this stuff if thomas used to be indifferent towards it? you learn through connection with your emotions. it mAKES NO SENSE that logan knows all this.

also logan is defensive and gets frustrated easily. thats essential to his character. and you could see he was annoyed and bothered by anxiety in the first season. anxiety got in his way sometimes so logan also didn’t want him around at the beginning.  WHEn did logan have this development of suddently not caring at all what the dark sides do? not caring at all how remus affects thomas’s productivity while when roman does it he goes into screaming matches and even throwing stuff!!. it is stated that he does have feelings no matter how much he denies it, , then why doesn’t he feel anything At. All. when confronted by remus? why is he so calm around him? when did he learn to deal with him?

even worse: logan went through a whole arc of accepting virgil, just like the rest of them, but he still can’t even deal with Roman and Patton with whom he interacts literally every video?? he is so affected by them everytime they do something irrational, gets angry, and starts yelling about what does and doesn’t make sense. he says he doesn’t have this problem with remus because his ideas shouldn’t have an impact on thomas if they don’t let them. but when and how did he learn this? how does he know intrusive thoughts are different from other thoughts thomas has that he, as logic, doesn’t like?

logan said in the video its bad to try too hard to make sense of remus’s contributions. that sounds like something LOGIC would do. try too hard to make sense of him until (with experience and research) he realizes it is impossible and gets them nowhere, and also would end up hurting thomas more in the long run. then why can’t we see this development? how does he JUST. KNOW? how does he know before the duke is introduced what will and wont hurt thomas if this is the first time ever that thomas is hurt by him?

i can stay here complaining all day honestly. there’s so much logan as rational thinking, reason, logic, of a person (who doesn’t have any experience with therapy or believe in it, apparently) could have gone through while learning about dark sides of your personality. they dont have to show it on camera if they think they already showed enough of this process for virgil! but somehow imply that this development happened, and not just have logan suddenly be this perfect all knowing  entity that knows exactly what to do before it happens. i think logan lecturing them about intrusive thoughts for 20 minutes was a lazy decision, no matter how much work it took to write those dialogues. its lazy because it doesn’t fit with the storytelling style they chose to make Sanders Sides with, but they didn’t take the time to figure out a way to make it fit.

im going off again.again i can do this all day. but im going to stop now. sigh.

[cedion]

I keep thinking about how I started out really being in love with the maturity of Wenzhous relationship, how much openness there was from ZZS once he decided to trust WKX, how WKX was so genuine in his interest and how much loyalty both of them showed to one another. I really loved how consistent their portrayal was, each and every action was so very much in character, not static, not regressing, definitely developing to something better, more uplifting. I'm not sure what happened but the first 30 episodes felt so different compared to the last 6.

All of the sudden we had illogical actions that lead to unnecessary drama, miscommunication that was never an issue before and which shouldn't be an issue now that both of them came clean to one another (except ZZS hiding losing his senses, which never really got resolved as it should have tbh), very weird pacing issue and at one point I just felt so much dread whenever I saw Wenzhou on the screen together, yes they had some cute moments but it really broke the spell knowing that due to one stupid misstep, their relationship has regressed instead of progressed, there was absolutely nothing gained by the fake death stunt. Nothing gained by ZZS trying to die alone, nothing gained by having WKX "die" for ZZS in ep 36. That both of them would die for one another has been long established, it doesn't add anything new to their relationship. Honestly both of their character arcs are so heavily linked to death that the actual message really should be: wanting to live with your soulmate. Hence why the ending of the novel will always be superior. I really think trying to fit everything into the last 7 episodes really hurt their relationship more than it did any good. The pacing was fantastic up until then, everything felt so mature and natural and by the end it became so convoluted with stupid plot decisions, making characters ooc and trying to rush to the Finale that it left the pairing in a worse state than they were before ep 31 hit.

And I get it. A BL adaptation can't possible have an outright good ending, I can take a bad ending but I'll never excuse lazy writing and demolishing the two main characters to a point that their current actions are totally illogical from their previous behavior (speaking about WKX here)

If it weren't for that, this pairing definitely has one of the more interesting dynamics, none of those two are really what they appear to be at first glance and it's just delicious to see them develop. I'm thankful I was able to watch this drama, it was one of the best I've ever seen and it could have been even better.

[chroniclerdl]

Seven Fundamentals to Writing Better Yu-Gi-Oh Duelfics

Ever wanted to write a duelfic just as good or better than canon?

Done right, duels are memorable action scenes.

Done wrong, duels shatter the suspension of disbelief. It’s already a big ask to imagine the world revolving around a card game.

You don’t want the tragedy where your readers yank the scrollbar past your duel, or worse, close your tab. Even the small pool of duelfic readers/writers like me will skip huge chunks of your chapters when the duels sag.

By implementing basic storytelling techniques tailored to dueling, you can hook your readers into following the play-by-play.

High Stakes

Consistent Rules

Sneaks Checked

“Balanced” Gameplay

Foreshadowing Victory

Engaging Description

Dramatic Tension

1. High Stakes

When you advertise your story as a duelfic, your first duel tells readers whether or not what you wrote is worth their time.

If your characters duel without a concrete reason to rip the opponent’s throat, readers already know the outcome:

You lose.

Why? The game is pointless. Who’s dropping whatever they’re doing just to read the equivalent of your characters sipping afternoon tea? If you’re introducing the setting and characters, why can’t you introduce exciting threats?

No reader expects your first duel to decide the fate of the world, but your characters still need to bet.

Characters wager life chips.

If your character loses, they suffer death or suicide-inducing despair.

Is it too much to start with life-and-death? No. Think of the life chip as the culmination of hopes and dreams.

As the story progresses, the stakes will rise, must rise. How? Others will entrust the main characters with their own life chips, and/or the life chips acquire additional meaning. Consider this loose analogy: at the end of a poker tournament, gamblers sit at the final table with stacks built from the chips of others.

Life chips mean different things to different characters. Let’s take the Duelist Kingdom arc.

Yugi’s life chip is the hope to save his grandfather (and later, his own soul)

Joey’s life chip is the hope to win the prize money to fund his sister’s medical operation

Kaiba’s life chip is the hope to save his little brother (and later, his own soul)

You don’t even need your final showdown to revolve around the fate of world; it just has to be one or more things that matter to your characters.

Also, make sure to communicate the stakes, or why the characters accept uneven bets.

If you have the chops, you can also play around with disguising the stakes. As in, your character thinks they’re wagering something small, but it’s actually their life chip. However, your readers still need a vague reason to believe that a defeat will devour the character.

Always make sure the characters stake one or more life chips!

2. Consistent Rules

If you watched the Duelist Kingdom arc and tried to understand the moves everyone made, your head exploded.

Ask yourself: will the clever scheme that your hero invented drive readers crazy?

If I write a magic system that requires a wand, this applies to all. I cannot become a genius and suddenly wave my hands to cast magic.

Demonstrate the rules early, preferably in the first duel, and keep them sacred.

If you must make an exception, establish it early. In that case, the exception becomes a well-defined branch of the rules that the readers can anticipate.

Can the players magically draw the card they need, whenever they want?

If you can establish the when and why, by all means. The readers proceed with the understanding that the players can reach into their deck like a glorified toolbox.

For example, Duel Links has a concept called “skills” that function like a player’s special ability. At the time I wrote this, Yami Yugi’s “Destiny Draw” skill lets the player take any card from their deck once per duel after losing 2000LP (and even if they stacked the top of the deck earlier!).

Card should also have the same, predictable effect. If the card prevents attacks, I doubt the text discusses physical properties or mentions holding things in the air. But you knew that, right?

The rules are the laws of the universe.

3. Sneaks Checked

I love duels. I also love getting what I want.

Why does getting what I want have to be through a duel?

If we talk, maybe we can come to an agreement. If I blackmail you, maybe you’ll give in to my demands. If I shoot you, I can loot your corpse. Give the readers a good reason as to why your characters would bother with the hassle of honest dueling and can’t wiggle from the consequences of losing.

Often, the duel takes place in the context of a tournament. Hopefully, the tournament officials are keeping a good eye on the players and cracking down on cheaters.

However, even that’s not a guarantee. What’s the key concept?

Power.

The competitors have equivalent capacity for coercion (usually violence) or have a neutral referee presiding over the match with the most capacity for coercion (shoutout to gambling manga Usogui).

Anyone who enters a game otherwise has lost before the first move.

In Yu-Gi-Oh, magical and sci-fi enforcement are common. The Shadow Realm can trap the loser in a desolate hell. In a digital world, the loser suffers deletion. Or just have good tournament officials.

Be vigilant when your duel doesn’t call upon these tropes.

Your amoral characters won’t mind blindsiding your other characters, and they won’t mind blindsiding you with a plot hole.

If you’re not careful, the readers will ask you why they played uncharacteristically fair.

4. “Balanced” Gameplay

Duels should be fair and fun…for the villain.

Ostensibly, everyone plays a balanced game, designed to give both sides a sporting chance. In reality, the villain tilts the field to their favor with one or more tricks up their sleeves. Why would your villain ever fight fair?

But that’s fine. We love rooting for the underdog and watching the villain get their comeuppance.

Overpowered ability to let the villain read minds? Deck full of unbalanced cards that makes the villain’s monsters invincible with no drawback? Creator who knows every strategy in the game? Readers will turn the page as they wonder how the hero will prevail.

The more obstacles you can throw in the hero’s way, the better.

Got custom cards? No problem, just follow a couple guidelines. After all, some duelists are more equal than others.

The hero’s deck is full of regular cards that have a cost to use. For every play they want to make, their cards insist that they give up their attack, discard to play, etc.

The villain’s deck is full of rare cards that power up their game for free. So long as you can justify why the card made it to print, the villain can play whatever they want.

For every step your hero takes, the villain gets two.

5. Foreshadowing Victory

How many times have you watched a duel where the protagonist comes up with this never-before-seen card that does exactly what the protagonist needs to clinch the win? In the final showdown, no less? It’s like the writers begged to be called amateurs and idiots.

No other genre tolerates such laziness.

However, readers don’t want an infodump of the characters’ decks. Show the cards in action. To cover the deck, you'll probably need multiple duels.

This also implies you have more freedom in how your character defeats their early opponents in the duelfic.

Does that previous statement contradict what I said about never-before-seen cards clinching the win as the mark of laziness? No, because here’s the rule:

Tolerance for the hero’s new cards decreases as the story progresses.

(Notice that I specify the hero’s new cards; your villains exist to make life harder by inventing unfair tricks.)

When you must include new cards for the hero late in the duelfic, at least find a way to make them first backfire.

Now, some writers have lots of knowledge about the card pool and metagame. Can they assume the readers a priori know the hero has access to any of the available cards in a given archetype?

I’d err on the side of caution and properly foreshadow the cards before they appear late in the duelfic. Not every reader is a walking card database. They have no reason to assume something exists unless you show the card.

Take the tolerance rule into consideration when planning your duels. If you know the awesome combo you want to use for the final turn in the duelfic climax, that’s your cue to scatter the cards into the earlier duels.

Plan the last duel first and your early duels last.

6. Description

Every reader wants a front-row seat to the action.

They’re paying you their time, so make it worth the admission: sleek combatants & budget-busting fights. Kaiba invented Solid Vision technology for a reason, so help readers envision your duels.

Who’s fighting? Describe the point-of-view’s impression of the monsters’ appearances. Red-Eyes Black Dragon should be self-explanatory.

What about a decorated monster like Time Wizard?

You could go into detail about how the red clock humanoid has yellow gears that form epaulets and purple, pointy boots and a green mustache made from clock hands and so on, but such a level of minutiae bogs pacing and invites skimming.

Readers just need to hear about a purple-caped, red clock humanoid with a wand to form an image. Their imaginations can handle the little details.

Paint appearances in broad strokes and one or two brief sentences.

How are the monsters fighting? Duel Monsters is a game where the target takes the aggressor’s attack like a champ. That doesn’t mean you can’t spice it up.

For example, my opponent’s dragon attacks my weaker knight with a fireball. My knight, interested in not dying, raises his shield. Unfortunately, he screams as the flames engulf him.

You wouldn’t just stand still with a straight face if someone armed with a knife lunged for your gut.

A fight scene is a string of action and reaction.

Most people also experience life in more senses than just sight.

A dragon’s fireball is a bright reddish-orange, hot, dries the air, smoky, and explodes with a boom on impact. I never tasted a fireball, and I hope I never do, but that’s still four senses: sight, touch, smell, and sound.

Include multiple sensory details.

Let’s spare a moment to talk about the heads-up display (HUD).

In Yu-Gi-Oh, cards have multiple stats and abilities. You’re free to mention whatever you deem necessary. No set formula exists. On one extreme, you can mention nothing to keep the narrative clean at the risk of confusing the readers. At the other extreme, infodumps about the monster’s abilities provide great detail but wreck the pacing. But there’s a cozy middle.

State only what you need from the card.

If your duels occurred before the era of Synchro, you don’t need details about levels. You can just display the basic stats to determine the stronger monster. If a deck has Pendulum monsters, just mention the scale numbers when they're played as scales. And so on.

You can also make an index of new cards at the end of a chapter.

BONUS TIP! Understanding show, don’t tell.

What is show, don’t tell? At its core, this concept refers to immersing your readers in the senses and feelings instead of exposition. Unfortunately, that definition is a bit vague to execute. After writing for a while, I had my lightbulb moment.

Don’t TELL the readers how to think or force-feed them a conclusion.

SHOW your readers the evidence.

Here’s a written example from Joey vs. Rex in Duelist Kingdom. See if you can spot what makes this prose telling instead of showing.

“Joey watched nervously as Two-Headed King Rex stomped Baby Dragon. He messed up his Baby Dragon-Time Wizard combo!”

You can see two failures: “nervously” and the second sentence.

Adverbs like “nervously” and other “-ly” friends get a bad rep because rookies tend to use them as telling crutches (especially beware adverbs after dialogue tags!). “Nervously” tells me how Joey reacts. But what does “nervously” look like? One character might bite their thumb. Another might fidget in their seat. The adverb in this context lacks nuance.

We also have the second sentence: “He messed up his Baby Dragon-Time Wizard combo!” When you’re explaining the “why” to something, you’re telling. It’s like talking down to your readers.

Contrast with the next example.

“A bead of sweat rolled off Joey’s face as Two-Headed King Rex stomped Baby Dragon. He stared at the Time Wizard in his hand.”

The first sentence shows me Joey’s physical reaction. I see him sweating, so I think he’s nervous.

We also see a second physical reaction: “He stared at the Time Wizard in his hand.” This comes on the heels of the first sentence, and I also have knowledge of when Joey used the Baby Dragon-Time Wizard combo in a prior duel. Combined, I think Joey is ruminating about a missed chance.

Readers are smart; they’ll catch your intention if you show the proof.

7. Dramatic Tension

I bet you know what it's like to draw a bad hand.

Imagine: The hero staggers into the arena, and the villain just needs to win one duel to take over the world. The villain draws a bunch of powerups with no monster, but the hero draws a one-turn-kill combo.

Anticlimactic. The readers throw that duelfic straight into the trash.

Don’t just write real-life duels. “It really happened” doesn’t mean it’s emotionally satisfying.

That’s why we have literary structure.

Success and setback pace together with progressive intensity to maximize dramatic tension and emotional payoff.

I’ll spare the nitty-gritty theory detail, but your duels should look like this on a basic level:

Part 1: Villain’s basic threats. Introduces the villain’s deck and style.

Part 2: Villain’s minor strategy. The villain’s first serious attempt to defeat the hero.

Part 3: Villain’s major strategy. The hero’s reversal! But the villain has worse in store.

Part 4: Hero’s imminent defeat. The hero must break through, or else will instantly lose!

Ideally, you’re also integrating the story itself into the duel; themes and duels synergize to create a stronger effect.

You may notice how the format resembles the three-act structure.

Act I is Part 1

Act II until the Act II midpoint is Part 2

Act II midpoint until Act III is Part 3

Act III is part 4.

I’ll use Yugi/Pharaoh vs. Pegasus in Duelist Kingdom as an example.

Part 1: Mind scan. Pegasus can read minds to counter combos.

Part 2: Toon World. Indestructible, cartoonified monsters attack.

Part 3: Shadow game. Toons destroyed! But playing a shadow game weakens Yugi.

Part 4: Yugi passes out. The Pharaoh must find a new way to stop Pegasus’s mind scan!

Figure out each part of the structure for your duels before writing the turn-by-turn plays.

By the way, modern real-life Yu-Gi-Oh duels don’t suit drama because the rules provide weak constraints to creating strong boards. A good modern deck usually establishes a scary turn one board and jumps straight into Part 4, whereas other card games like Magic: The Gathering and Hearthstone force the powerhouse cards to wait several turns until the player builds the mana to pay costs.

You can still write a good modern duel. Here’s a basic outline of Arc-V’s duel between Sora and Shay. Technically, “tragedy” is the structure of this duel, so I’ll make Shay the “hero” to flip it and keep matters simplified.

Part 1: Basic monsters. These clash before a monster appears from the Extra Deck.

Part 2: Frightfurs. They come one after another to crush Shay’s Raidraptors.

Part 3: Sora’s wrath. Rise Falcon survives! But Sora’s malevolent nature comes to light.

Part 4: Frightfur Chimera. Sora chomps candy and summons his biggest fusion horror!

If following the four parts is too difficult for you, that’s okay. They're just logical extensions of one basic concept. Keep the following in mind, and you’ll never go wrong:

The villain’s subsequent threats become increasingly overwhelming.

Conclusion

Much of writing a duel boils down to storytelling technique.

Let’s tl;dr the main takeaways.

High Stakes: Minimum ante is the life chip, worth a character’s hopes and dreams.

Consistent Rules: Everyone plays by the same logic.

Sneaks Checked: Characters can’t skip the duels with violence and coercion.

“Balanced” Gameplay: Villains enjoy advantages.

Foreshadowing Victory: Readers have a chance to predict the winning combo.

Engaging Description: Immerse senses and invite reactions.

Dramatic Tension: The villain makes progressively stronger threats.

As a duelfic reader/writer, I can gauge a writer's ability by measuring their duels with the fundamentals. Many fan writers struggle; even the canon writers struggle.

But writing a duelfic isn’t rocket science. With practice, minding the fundamentals will become second nature.

And don't forget to tag your story as a duelfic. It's a whole genre in fanfic, so sort it properly and help readers from the future find you.

May the heart of the cards be with you.

…

Want to see in-depth examples of my advice? I rewrote the Orichalcos arc to reimagine its untapped potential without the failures of the canon presentation. You can find it on FFnet and AO3.

[dangermousie]

Heelo mousie! Love your blog! Do you mind recommending some of your favourite Chinese BL novels or shows?

I've seen the untamed and read it. I'm currently reading heaven's official blessing and I saw the donghua. Anything other than these two?

Awww, thank you!

Novels: I am gonna be lazy and literally copy/paste the entire danmei section of my top 10 web novels post (except MXTX’s stuff since you are already reading it.) Let me know if you need help finding any of these.

Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor   antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both  as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men   always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be  friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest  parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is  also finding the middle path between their two very different  philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or  dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and  setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period  setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with  character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our   protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant,   sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s  servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as  we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and  occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named   Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers  and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both  out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely  likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two  take up farming, get involved in  the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

The Wife is First - OK, this one did not make my top 10 web novels but it’s a sweet, fun gay cottagecore fest. Our ML, a royal prince, and his spouse, a smart if delicate aristocrat, keep house, eat noodles, play with their pet tiger, make out and spoil each other rotten, while occasionally fighting battles and outwitting their court enemies. It’s so very mellow. That couple redefines low drama - they are both nice and functional and use their brains. It’s as if a nice jock and a nice nerd got together and then proceeded to be wholesome all over the place.

I mean, the set up could be dramatic - our ML the prince, lost his fight for the throne and is about to be killed. The only person who stayed loyal to him is his arranged husband the aristocrat guy who ML never treated nicely since he resented marrying him (marrying a man in that world is done to remove someone from the ability to inherit the throne.) And yet the husband stood by him not out of love but beliefs in loyalty blah blah. Anyway, he transmigrates back into the past right after their wedding night and is all “I got a second chance OMG! I don’t want the throne what is even the point? I want to live a good long life and treat the only person who stood by me really well!” And he proceeds to do so to the shock of the aristocrat who had a very unpleasant wedding night and generally can tell the man he just married would rather eat nails than be married to him. But soon enough (no seriously, it’s not many chapters at all) he believes the prince is sincere blah blah and then  they get together and they pretty much become cottagecore goals.

In terms of dramas, I only do period dramas (or novels) so I am not the person to be able to recommend any modern BLs. There is a flood of upcoming (hopefully) period BL dramas but it’s relatively thin on the ground now. The two I will recommend is Word of Honor (which is AMAZING) and Winter Begonia (which I just started watching but which owns me already.) I have a tag for both - the one for the former is huge and I cannot recommend either strongly enough. I’ve heard good things about The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I am not big on mysteries so haven’t watched it for myself.

In terms of the upcoming BLs, the ones I am most looking forward to are Immortality and Winner Is King, but The Society of the Four Leaves also looks promising.

[entropic-introspection]

Final Fantasy XIV: A Quick(ish) Summary As Told By Someone Too Lazy To Recheck Exact Times/Things

1.0- We don't talk about it

A Realm Reborn (ARR)- for some strange reason the world got like, completely blown up 5 years ago, crazy! You are some dumb kid from nowhere in particular, with nothing but the clothes on your back and a weapon that is little more than a chunk of wood, or a book. Possibly just your fists. You have got 50 levels and a shitload of lore to get through until you reach the first expansion.

Essentially: you don't have enough money for chicken nuggets, your fashion game is nonexistent, and every high level player calls you a sprout and exhibits Concern about your every action (they mean well).

Garlemald bad, Ascians bad, Eorzea uhhh trying to be good but kinda racist/capitalist/pirates with a history of colonialism, Coerthas is French Catholic and in the Crusades with the dragons. Hydaelin... good? Confusing, for sure, often referred to as Mother in text. Primals bad and scary, but fortunately you are immune to their mind-fuckery techniques thanks to Crystal Mom and surprisingly good at kicking their asses. Garleans mad that you ""savages"" keep killing Primals, despite having a whole mandate against Primals and Primal summoning. Ascians mad that you keep killing Primals because Ascians are dicks. People die, there is an amnesia plot, some annoying twerp is annoyingly right about a lot of things and also you can't get rid of him, Moogles, possession, fucking Ancient Aliens Allagans (if it's a problem in ARR, it's Ascians or Allagans aight), and hey ho you go and kick Garlean asses until they throw a giant machine at you that they stuffed full of Primal juice. Such devastation-!

Then there is the slightly post ARR stuff, where we're still level 50-ish but not really into the next expansion. So basically, we meet Dragon Dad who slaps Crystal Mom's blessing off of you to build character, Ascians are once again dicks, Who The Hell Names These Things, wow Lysanderoth you're definitely not suspicious at all, and our annoying twerp is dabbling in politics and for some reason you're getting fond of him?? Just in time for...

Heavensward (Lvl 50-60)- Congratulations, you are now an enemy of the state! We return/flee to French Catholic Coerthas/Ishgard, where we get to room with our Dear Friend, Haurchefant.

Don't mind how all the high leveled players have started crying. This expansion is emotionally devastating, has a great storyline, and also features canonical consensual dragon vore as a plot point. You know that tweet that's all "Church bad because they won't let you fuck dragons"? Yes, that's Heavensward. You will still cry. We embark on an epic road trip with the annoying twerp (ft his existential teenage crisis), a famous dragon killer and sadboi, and a famous lady who advocates peace/fucking dragons. Somehow, none of you kill each other. Instead, you murder a weirdly attractive bug-man with good music and a desire for violence, a giant flying whale, and some old dudes. You also beat up the same Ascian from the first bit, again. And again, in his final(?) form. Dragon Dad has come along to watch your progress, and also check on his kids cause he's actually, y'know, the entire progenitor of the dragon race. Wow! His family is very sad, mostly. But he does like you, so hey, he can adopt you and have one kid that turned out ok and happy! Hahahahha there's no therapists in Eorzea :')

Then we get to deal with "Hey we ended your like 500 year+ Crusade and kind of upended your social structures, y'all good?" (no), something something Warriors of Darkness, something something Urianger sus, then ALISAIE JOINS THE PARTY. I love her ok, let me have this. She's the annoying twerp's twin, and she's more inclined to hitting things that politics and philosophy. She's also kind of crushing on you. Also Minfillia kinda fucks off to nowhere, which is weird, b/c she has been Important but also Not Involved with the plot for like. 8 years.

Stormblood (Lvl 60-70)- Return of Lysanderoth! Briefly. Before he fucks you over, again. And a bunch of other people, honestly. But hey, this puts Eorzea in open contention with Garlemald for the first time in years, instead of them hovering in an uneasy cold war. For the first goddamn time in the game, you canonically get your ass kicked. Hard. So hard you decide fuck it! And go overseas to Fantasy Japan/China to visit some nice people you helped out earlier. You get catfished. You meet a weeb. There's some pirates, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. There's Ravana take 2, this time in a slightly more 'Forever 21' phase. Wild, young, free, REJOICE.

You attempt to inspire rebellion (since your character doesn't talk much, this is quite difficult). Garleans crack down, and hey look, the dude who kicked your ass is back! Prince Zenos Yae Galvus, as by this point you've hopefully learned, even if you're bad with names like me. He kicks your ass again, but this time we break his helmet, and wait shit is he... kind of hot? Maybe? Fuck?? He pins you to a wall and tells you to find him later, it's all confusing and prompts strange butterflies in stomachs. (Side note: as a lesbian, I am making some assumptions here. Mostly based off of how I reacted to the idea of Tsukuyomi doing the same. Mm.)

Then he promptly fucks off, and to work off that sexual tension you square up and work with local friends on Rebellion! You get help from some neighboring nomads after proving you're cool enough to tame a bird, and this proves enough to free the area from Garlean control (for now). We go back to Eorzea, and prepare to kick Zenos' head in. He's playing hard to get though, so we gotta get through some other folks, learn hard lessons about war/colonization, and feel bad. AND THEN WE KICK HIS- oh no wait. Is he... coming on to us again? Oh jesus man, get a therapist, oh my god, this is awkward for us both. Turns out he's kinda depressed and just wants you. To fight him. To the death. There is some bullshittery and he becomes dragon. Fails to kill you, so he kills himself. (Spoiler: it doesn't stick)

The Garlean Empire is now pissed off at you, and Eorzea in general. Everyone is kung-fu fighting, but oops, Garlemald is preparing to commit ~war crimes~! Someone is doing something weird, which is making your Scion friends fall into comas, which is both very convenient and highly inconvenient, cause all of you are kinda needed right now! Zenos, or something in his body, is causing trouble as well. Look, even when we thought he was dead he was causing trouble.

Shadowbringers (Lvl 70-80): We find out what's been making our friends pass out- someone from another dimension has been trying to yoink you over to them, and like all attempts at using the Rescue spell, it just sometimes leads to hilarious accidents. In this case, some epic lag, so although your friends have only been out of it for a week or two at most, they've been in this other world for 5 whole years in some cases. Turns out, Garlean war crimes are all an Ascian plot (what isn't, by this point), and mysterious Crystal Exarch is hoping you can save this world and your own.

At this point, Yoshi P, the lead developer, pulls out a gun and asks if you've been doing all those side-quests and optional 48 man raids. He worked very hard on those, you know. He put in lots of lore. Then he asks if you remember all those dangling plot hooks from previous expansions. We're addressing a lot of those. And adding more. You are sweating and nodding frantically while scrolling a wiki on your phone.

You get to feel like you're in an Otome game, because there's two dudes being weirdly polite and interested in you, but also real snappish to each other in terms of "fuck off she's mine". Alisaie and Alphinaud off-screen character development. Urianger still sus. Thancred now a dad? Y'shtola still so good. A lot of things happen, and you get progressively sadder as the expansion goes on. You get a nice, great big burst of hope and love, and then SOMEONE is a DICK with a GUN. (It is not Yoshi P.)

Now you just feel bad. Your character feels bad. This is all build up for the A) some motherfucking revelations and B) the utter catharsis of "If you could take one more step... would you?" "What, all by myself?" "THROW WIDE THE GATE"

I have shed legitimate tears over Shadowbringers ok, between the music, story, and pacing it is an Experience. Oh my god tho, all the music from Shadowbringers is so good. La-HEE

[glassbangtan]

onto the next {kim seokjin x reader}

   words: 15.9k

  summary: you just need to start a new life. you need to get out of this small town and start fresh. you’re beginning to think you made the wrong decision until a kind man named seokjin offers to help you navigate the trains.

  genre: uhhhhhh fluff??? angst???

  notes: this literally has no plot, don’t let the summary fool you. but it’s cute!!! - masterlist - support my writing or ask about commissions!

----

  you need to get out of here. 

   fuck, you don’t even know how it happened. you left school, and you had plans. so many plans. an entire life laid out ahead of you. once upon a time, you were one of those hopeful little kids, buzzing to get out of the education system so you could pursue the dreams you so desperately wanted to pursue.

    but then you were actually given independence, and it spiralled from there.

   you wouldn’t say it was too much. you’re not that dramatic. it was just a shift - a big shift. you ended up with a job at a nearby Chinese takeout, working from four in the afternoon to ten at night, dealing with drunk people and little kids and answering phones. it was good at first, just getting money, but over time, when the novelty wore off, you wondered what the hell you were doing there. this wasn’t part of your plan. you should be travelling the world right now.

    so here you are, a few months into your mental breakdown, finally tipping over the edge.

   you stare at the list of trains flashing overhead in bright red letters. in your pocket, your phone blares with the continuous text messages from your parents, asking how you are, if you’re willing to tell them anything yet, if you’re safe. you’ll text them back once you know what you’re doing, but for now, you just need to get out of here.

there’s plenty of options. more options than you can handle, really; you thought it would be easier than this. you’d just walk into the train station and pick a destination, and your life would finally begin. now, however, your mind is a tangled mess of emotions, doubt, and everything that comes with it.

    you slump down on a nearby bench and duck your head in your hands. you don’t realise you’re crying until your sleeves start getting damp.

    “are you alright?”

    you don’t lift your head. “no.”

    the bench creaks as the stranger sits down. a shoulder nudges your own, firm and warm, probably adorned by a bulky coat given the frosty weather of korea at the moment.

    “oh. that’s not very good.”

    you drop your hands. the next train finally closes its doors and speeds out of the station, leaving you with yet another hour to gather your thoughts; it’s the second train that you have let slip through your fingers, because you still don’t even know where you want to go.

   you turn, glancing at the man beside you. he’s eating a packet of starburst, staring out at the railway tracks. he’s wearing a thick black coat over a hoodie, and he truly looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

    he catches you staring after a few seconds and immediately offers you a starburst. “hungry?”

    you hesitantly take one, though you don’t undo the wrapper. instead, you play with the sugary square, thankful to have something keeping your hands occupied.

    “so,” the stranger continues, “why are you crying?”

    how direct.

    “i wasn’t crying.”

    the man glances at you, raises a brow. his features are surprisingly handsome, a set of plump lips and kind eyes that take a little bit of fear from your body. “are you sure about that?”

   “pretty certain.”

    “did you miss your train or something? sometimes i feel like crying when i’ve missed my train; it’s very stressful.”

    you blink. “no. no, i haven’t missed my train.”

   he perks up. “oh, good! what train are you getting then? maybe i can help you with the times.”

    that’s really the million dollar question, isn’t it? what train will you find yourself upon? what city will you find yourself travelling to?

    you have no idea.

   “i have no idea.”

   the man pauses as if waiting for the punchline to some kind of joke. you unwrap your starburst and pop it in your mouth. overhead, a voice announces that the next train will be arriving in fifty minutes.

    when the silence stretches beyond anything acceptable, the man awkwardly coughs and says, “you don’t know?”

   “i don’t know.”

    “so you’re just. . . crying in the train station for no reason, with no train to catch?”

   “i never said i didn’t have a train to catch. i just don’t know what one i’m catching yet.”

   the man nods. you can tell, somehow, that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to say, but he’s too polite to question you any further. instead, he looks up at the signs above and says, “i’m heading to Gwangju, if that helps.”

    Gwangju. you’ve heard wonderful things about that place. it’s pretty, apparently, though you can only base that off things you’ve heard from others.

    “Gwangju,” you repeat, as if testing the word. “why are you going to Gwangju?”

    he shrugs. “i just need to get away for a little while.”

   your heart stutters, eyes snapping round to look at him. he sits completely straight, fidgeting with a strawberry starburst; his fingers are lovely, long and slightly bent in places. 

     i just need to get away for a little while. 

    oh, how fate works in the most wild ways.

    “so do i,” you say. “i need to get away, too.”

   his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “really? is that why you’re here?” 

    “i’m kind of looking for a place to start fresh, i suppose, yeah. i woke up this morning, grabbed my bag and just. . . walked here. i have enough money for a decent train fare, but i don’t have any plans.” you shrug, awkwardly glancing to the floor. “i don’t think i really thought it through, though, because now i have no idea what i’m doing.”

    “well, that’s the fun, isn’t it?” the man nudges your arm. when you look at him, he’s grinning again, tiny little dimples appearing just beneath the points of his mouth. “don’t be scared. it’ll work out. what’s the worst that could happen?”

   your stomach turns; you were kind of hoping he wouldn’t ask that question, because that means you have to actually ponder over everything that could possibly go wrong, and you’ve got a list. a mental list, compiled from the very moment you decided this was your next course of action.

    the man must notice your sudden hesitation, as his eyes widen and he leans forward, trying desperately to meet your gaze before you fall too deeply into your own pessimistic thoughts. “okay, maybe i shouldn’t have said that. look, let’s not think about the worst that could happen, alright? how about we start by making sure this is something you actually want to do.”

   “it is.” the affirmative spills from your mouth with no hesitation. “i need to do this. i need to.”

   the man nods. “good. that’s alright, then. next step is probably figuring out where you actually want to go.”

     you risk another glance at the red words flashing above your head; they look no less daunting than they did the first time you looked at them. so many places, so many opportunities, and you’re not sure whether you’ll fit in with any of them.

    but you have to make your decision now. you have roughly half an hour to make your mind up, buy a ticket and get on that god damn train, so you really shouldn’t be wasting any more time.

    “Gwangju doesn’t sound like a bad shout.”

    the man’s eyebrows shoot up once again. “really?”

   you shrug. “well, you brought it up. i’ll give it a go.”

    he grins. “it really is a great place. we can get the train together.” he stands up. “come on, let’s get you a ticket.”

    and so, it begins.

   your heart doesn’t steady the entire time. you buy a ticket with the man - seokjin, you learn- by your side before the two of you take a seat at the edge of the platform, waiting patiently for the train to arrive. he pulls out a bag of pretzels and shares them with you, even though your stomach feels like it’s going to turn inside out with every bite; you’re too nervous to do anything besides nod and hum to everything seokjin is trying to explain, and he’s trying to explain an awful lot.

   he goes into detail about the sights of Gwangju, and how he’s booked a B&B, and it’s going to be such a fun trip. you have so many questions about why he’s doing this, how he has the confidence to just get up and leave home like he has no commitments to anything. the questions don’t make an appearance, though, because you’re fairly certain opening your mouth will result in you vomiting all over the place.

   finally, after what feels like forever, the train comes screeching to a halt and the doors open. you’re frozen in place for a moment, seokjin staring at the side of your head, waiting for you to make the first move. you kind of appreciate the way in which he waits, how he’s not pushing you to just get up and do it; if you really wanted to turn your back on this opportunity now, he wasn’t going to stop you.

    you inhale and rise on shaky legs. seokjin follows close behind, letting you guide him to the train. you clamber on board and grab a seat, seokjin sitting down beside you. he pushes his hood off his head once he’s finally seated, letting out a quiet sigh of relief; his black hair sticks up, only getting worse when he runs his nimble fingers through the strands. 

    “are you nervous?”

    “i think that’s pretty obvious.”

   seokjin chuckles, flopping back in his seat with a lazy grin. “i know. i just thought i should get you to speak to maybe take your mind off things.”

    you sigh; you have to admit, now that you’re on the train, and you know you’re not fully, fully alone, your nerves are dissipating just a little bit. you can breathe a bit better than before, and you haven’t had the urge to burst into tears in nearly an entire hour - it’s progress.

    “so,” he continues. “are you going to explain to me what’s really going on here?”

   you flick your eyes up, raising a brow. “i didn’t lie; i was being serious when i said i just needed to get out of here.”

   “yeah, i get that, but surely there must be something else to it. not everyone just. . . leaves.”

   “isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

   seokjin shrugs, folding his arms across his chest. he’s slouched in his chair now, legs spread, head tilted back. he’s so low that you have to look down to address him. “i travel for work, if you must know. getting on trains and travelling the country isn’t something i’m not used to. you, however, didn’t even know how to work the train system.”

   you scowl. “that’s not true. i could have handled this on my own perfectly fine.”

   “i don’t doubt that. i’m just saying, i’m still not convinced you’re telling me everything.”

   “and why should i? i don’t even know who you are.”

   seokjin hums, staring out into the aisle as more people clamber onto the train; it’s getting very full now, with some people having to stand as the seats become more and more occupied. 

    “good point,” he says. “at least tell me this; on a scale of one to ten, how prepared are you for this trip?” 

   you don’t hesitate. “zero.”

    seokjin’s eyebrows rise. “z-zero? like, you have no preparation whatsoever?”

   “i have my bag with me.”

   seokjin waits.

   you don’t say anything else, because you have nothing else to say. you have the clothes in your bag, and the money in your wallet, and that is all.

   “i was planning on making the big decisions once i actually got to where i’m going,” you elaborate. 

   “do you have any friends in Gwangju?”

    “no.”

    seokjin struggles to push himself upright. “do you even have a place to stay?”

   “i literally didn’t even know i would be on this train a few hours ago; of course i don’t have a place to stay.”

   seokjin looks borderline horrified, all wide eyes and open mouth. he’s staring at you like you have two heads, waiting for you to say “sike!” and put him out of his misery. 

   you glance down at your hands. “have you got any of those pretzels left?”

    “christ, y/n, you’re really taking this spontaneity thing to a whole new level. a dangerous level.”

  you roll your eyes, even though you know he’s right. “i’ll be fine. i have enough money for a B&B for at least a night or two, and after that, we’ll see what happens-”

   “you’ll see what happens?”

    “why are you so worried? i’m fine! i’ll be fine!”

   seokjin shakes his head, eyes still wide. “i’m not going to let you walk around an unfamiliar city with nothing but your good intentions; you can stay with me at the B&B for a while - until you get yourself on your feet.”

   you blink, certain you’ve heard him wrong.

   he slouches again, shaking his head as he murmurs about how some people can be so dumb, and how he never would have helped you follow through with such an insane plan, and how you pulled on his heartstrings when he saw you crying, how he shouldn’t be so nice because then he ends up on trains to Gwangju with people who clearly have some kind of death wish-

    you slap his shoulder. 

    “ow!” he glares at you. “what was that for?”

   “i’m not raiding your fucking B&B.”

    he rubs his shoulder. “you’ve got no other options. two nights isn’t going to be enough to find you a job, or a decent place to live - keep that money you were going to spend on a B&B and use it for - like - travelling to job interviews or something.”

    “i don’t even know who you are!” and that seems to be the main argument here, the most valid. you genuinely have no idea who this bloke is, besides his name and a few weird facts he felt the need to tell you whilst you were waiting for your train to arrive.           

    he shrugs like such a fact is no big deal. “i’ll take a thank you, actually.”

   you scowl, glaring at him, but he doesn’t look up. stubborn little bastard. instead, he tilts his head out and stares back through the centre of the train, that infuriating little smirk on his face that tells you he knows he’s getting on your nerves, and doesn’t really care.

    you cross your arms over your chair and slouch in the same way he is. “fine. but if you murder me-”

    “i won’t murder you.”

    “how do i know that for definite?”

    he shrugs. “you don’t. but you’re more likely to die from hypothermia after you end up homeless on the streets of Gwangju in the middle of winter.”

    that shuts you right up. he has a point, and though you barely know him, you have been given no reason to truly believe he is out to harm you in any way, shape or form.

    and so, in your huff, you pull your headphones from your bag and place them on your head. you blast music, ignoring seokjin’s eye roll; you know you’re being petty, but so what? you’re tired, and hungry, and his stubbornness has somehow managed to wriggle under your skin moreso than you thought possible. you’re not usually a very angry person - you let people get away with lots of things - but there’s something in the way seokjin talks, something in the way he looks at you, something in the way he is that just. . . gets to you a little bit. 

    it’s probably mean. judgemental. it’s one of those things your dad used to scold you for, one of those things you grew out of after your first year in school. but here it is, making a comeback specially for this stranger sat beside you.

    the train travels for another hour and a half before finally coming to a halt in Gwangju station. you stare out the window, watching the bright blue pillars come into view, the flocks of people swarming the platform. people in business suits, with briefcases and grimaces on their faces. seagulls are pecking at discarded food on the floor. a child is throwing a tantrum whilst his mother hastily pats her coat pockets for any sign of her train ticket.

   seokjin nudges your arm, even though he can see you staring out the window. “we’re here.” 

    “is it always this hectic?” you ask, tugging your headphones off your head. 

    “at this time of day, yeah.” he glances at his watch. “we should probably get going pretty soon if we want to grab a taxi; they’ll be packed right now.”

    and so, you follow seokjin off the train, through the station and out into the world.

    it’s not too unfamiliar; you’ve been to places like this. your home town was pretty densely populated, so the crowds do not faze you. the only thing is, this isn’t your home town, and that’s the part that’s getting to you.

    it’s so similar, but you’re too aware of the chance to take that into consideration. 

    there are tall buildings, and small buildings, and tiny shops with smoke billowing from chimneys. the air is crisp and cold, forcing you to wrap your coat a little tighter around yourself. you’re standing stock still at the top of the station stairs, and yet already you are overwhelmed with the abundance of opportunities already throwing themselves headfirst into your life.

    you’re going to throw up.

   seokjin’s gentle touch on your elbow draws you back to reality. you inhale sharply, tugging your hand into your chest.

    “what?”

   he raises a brow. “you’re still in a mood with me?”

   you scowl, dropping your hand to your side. “sorry. no. i just - i’m a little jumpy, that’s all.” you offer him a grin, tired and probably not worth the bother, but it’s something you hope he’ll accept given the circumstances. “let’s find that taxi, shall we?”

     it takes a while, but eventually you and seokjin manage to clamber into a taxi together. when you offer to pay half the fare, seokjin glares and shoves your hand away, which only frustrates you. you say nothing, though, because you don’t want to seem ungrateful.

   especially when you pull up to the B&B.

   because it’s glamorous.

    more glamorous than it has any right to be.

    honestly, what kind of B&B has a chandelier in the room? not only that, but there’s a grand double bed in the centre, two bedside tables each adorned with a pitcher of ice cold water, plus a massive television set on a chest of drawers at the front of the room. the window, covered by a set of black out curtains, looks out over the city. in darkness, Gwangju looks like something straight out of a film. there’s a christmas tree glistening in the distance, and a few people dressed as elves are walking around, taking pictures with kids.

    “okay,” you say. “this isn’t really what i was expecting.”

   seokjin is shedding his coat, barely even giving the tremendous room a once-over. he glances over his shoulder, frowning when he notices you just standing in the doorway, your coat still on, your bag still on, your jaw dropped open.

    “what do you mean?” he asks. “take your coat off, bloody hell. i’ve turned the heating on. it’s gonna get boiling in here in about two minutes.”

    hesitantly, you tug your coat from your shoulders, letting all your belongings clatter to your feet. seokjin straightens up, turning to you with his hands on his hips.

    “are you okay?”

   “seokjin, this room is so fucking expensive.”

    he raises a brow. “how do you know that?”

    you gesture to the room in question, as if that is answer enough.

   and to any normal person, it certainly would be. nobody goes to a B&B expecting glamour, but that’s exactly what you’ve been given, and you’re shocked to find that seokjin isn’t even mildly surprised by it. he isn’t even taking the time to admire the thick material of the duvet.

    the duvet of the only bed in this entire room, but that’s a problem you’ll sort out when it’s actually time to sleep.

    seokjin glances around, that eyebrow of his still raised. “i stay here every time i come to Gwangju.”

    “oh, good for you!” you push the door closed and dart towards the bed. flopping on your back, you wriggle your fingers, digging them into the duvet. “i could suffocate under this, you know.”

    seokjin rolls his eyes, strolling over to where you have unceremoniously abandoned your things by the door. he picks them up and lobs them onto the sofa at the other end of the room, before turning back to witness your episode of complete fascination.

    “so this is all it takes to get you out of your mood?”

   your smile drops. “i wasn’t in a mood.” 

   “you seemed pretty moody to me. you didn’t say a word to me the entire train ride.” 

    heat rushes to your face; okay, maybe you let your nerves get the better of you. in all honesty, seokjin didn’t necessarily do anything wrong - yes, he was stubborn, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but he clearly has your best interests at heart. he’s giving you a room to stay in. he’s put up with you this entire time, and he hasn’t even known you a full day.

    you sigh, hands dropping on your stomach. “okay, sorry. you’re right. i was a tiny bit moody, but i was just tired. and hungry.”

   “you could have said that.” seokjin gestures towards the bed. “pick what side you want and i’ll go order us dinner.”

    it takes you a minute to register what he’s just said.

    when you do, you scramble upright, stopping him in his tracks. his hand is inches away from the phone, but he pauses to glance at you.

    “what is it now?”

   “we’re sharing a bed?” you bounce on the mattress, exaggerating your point. “like, this bed?”

    “do you see any other bed in the room?”

    you look around as if doing so will somehow manifest a single bed into your space. you’ll even take a camp bed at this point. a pull-out sofa. your standards aren’t high.

    “i snore, you know,” you blurt out.

    seokjin tilts his head. his smile reappears, those dimples showing beneath his mouth; they’re not cheek dimples by any means, but they border on cheek dimples, and they’re cute either way. 

    you don’t know why you’re focusing on them so much.

    “i don’t mind,” he says. “i’ll be asleep anyway.”

   “i also move around a lot,” you barrel on. “i might kick you, or hit you by accident. i once gave my best friend a nose bleed when she was staying over at my house.”

    seokjin nods, reaching for the telephone. you can tell he’s turning your voice into background noise now, probably fed up with hearing your excuses.

    “seokjin, sharing a bed with a stranger is weird,” you whine. 

    “feel free to sleep on the floor then,” he hisses over his shoulder. “now what do you want to eat?”

     the mention of food is enough to bring you back to your senses. you bounce off the bed and grab the menu at the side of the phone, flicking through it as seokjin makes idle conversation with the girl on the other end; apparently, the two of them know each other. he’s calling her lily - a first name basis kind of thing. you can’t help your teasing grin, flicking your eyes to him every now and then.

   finally, he nudges your elbow and says, “can i have...”

   you point to each of the meals you want, and seokjin reels them off to dear old lily. he places his own order, says goodbye and sets the telephone down.

    “happy days,” he says. “she says that should be about ten minutes; you ordered a lot of food.”

    “i’m hungry,” you reply. 

    “no shame in that.” he glances at the clock hung upon the wall. “i’m gonna go grab a shower and get into my pyjamas before the food gets here. unless you want to go in first?”

   you wave a dismissive hand. “i’m just gonna throw on a movie. anything you want to watch?”

    “surprise me.” with that, he scoops up his pyjamas and heads into the en-suite bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

    ---

    the food arrives exactly twelve minutes after seokjin set the phone down.

   you’ve been counting.

    you had thrown on the movie Elf, basking in seokjin’s groan when he emerged from the bathroom - all wet hair and cute pyjamas - to see your film of choice. nonetheless, the two of you are sat in bed when the doorbell rings, laughing as will ferrel scoops a forkful of spaghetti mixed with sweets into his mouth and makes a comment about how tasty it is.

    “i always wanted to try that,” you say to seokjin’s back when he stands to get the door. “i think it would be a real experience.”

    “oh, definitely.” he pulls open the door. “hello. yes, that’s for us. thank you. thank you, alright. yeah. yeah. thank you. okay, bye! bye!” he closes the door and wheels the tray of food into the centre of the room. you bound away from your pillows, grabbing the first bowl you can get your hands on - just plain old rice, but you dig in nonetheless.

   seokjin grabs the chopsticks and dips them into the bowl you are holding, taking a lump of rice for himself. you set the bowl down between you, giving him easier access.

    “i can cook, you know.”

    he says this so off-handedly, not even looking up from the phone in his lap. you, however, pause, chopsticks halfway to your mouth.

   “you can cook?”

    he nods. “been cooking with my mum and dad since i was a kid. it’s kind of a skill of mine.”

   you drop your chopsticks into the bowl. “alright, fess up. is there anything you can’t do?”

    he smirks, still not looking up. it’s a little bit cocky, and it sends a surprising thrill up your spine to see it.

   you nudge his arm. “i’m serious.”

    “i’ll cook something for you one day, how about that? then you can decide if cooking counts as something i can do.”

    you nod; it’s a promising deal, though you can’t help but ponder over the hidden promises beneath those words. one day, a phrase often used to describe a time in the future.

    which means he wants to see more of you.

   it’s embarrassing that such a thought pushes to the forefront right now.    again, you are reminded of just how little time you have spent with this man, a man who is essentially a stranger and nothing more, a man who has proven quite capable of getting on your nerves.

    it strikes you then, with this little fact in mind, that you don’t know an awful lot about him. granted, you haven’t exactly had the time to dive deep into the kind of person he is, but you haven’t really made much of an effort, either. you spent half the train ride in a huff, and most of your time spent in the B&B has been spent fawning over the details of lavish living.

    now, however, you stare at the side of his face. his jaw twitches as he eats, his eyes narrowing when he bites into a particularly strange piece of rice; he coughs into his fist, shakes his head and continues eating. he looks up once, meets your eyes and gives you the tiniest of smiles.

    “what do you do for a living?”

    it’s not exactly the first thing you want to know, but it feels like a good enough segway into his entire life story that you just roll with it.

    his chewing slows. “me?”

   “yes. you.” you take a bite of some beef in black bean sauce. “not just anyone can afford to stay in a place like this every other week. what’s your secret, seokjin?”

    “i’m a chef,” he replies.

     simple as that, you suppose. he’s a chef. he cooks for a living. 

   “do you travel to different restaurants?” you press.

    “i’m pretty well-known around these parts; whenever certain restaurants are short on staff, i’ll go and help out.”

   “so you must be pretty popular.”

    he shrugs, the tiniest pink hue adorning his cheeks.

    “you know, you look a little young to be a fully qualified chef.” you pause. “what age are you?”

    “i’m twenty-six.”

   “oh. good. i’m twenty-four.”

   “and what does a twenty-four year old runaway do for a living?”

   you scowl. “i’m not a runaway; my family and friends all know i’m here.”

   he points his chopsticks at you. “from what i saw, you didn’t even know you would end up here before i showed up.”

    he has a point. 

   you pop another bit of beef into your mouth, taking your time to chew. he asked you a question. you registered that question, and you have an answer, but it feels a little anticlimactic in comparison to the answer he was able to give.

    seokjin narrows his eyes at your silence. he swallows the rice in his mouth and leans forward, fighting to meet your eyes in that same way he did back at the station. “so? what do you do?”

    “i used to work at a chinese takeout restaurant.”

    you wince, waiting for him to burst out laughing. 

   “what do you usually get from a chinese takeout?”

    you look up. “what?”

   already, he is back to chewing his food, rifling through a carton of vegetables with his chopsticks. “what is your go-to meal from a chinese restaurant? i’m a big fan of the sweet and sour, but you can’t go wrong with a curry, either.”

    you nod. “yeah. yeah, i like chicken curry, too.”

    seokjin smiles around his chopsticks, and for just a moment, all you can do is stare at him. you’ve found yourself doing that an awful lot recently, just sitting there with your eyes trained on his face, him none the wiser to your gaze. he looks around the room, chewing thoughtfully, before his eyes widen and he grabs the television remote from the bedside table. he says nothing to explain his actions, simply turns the television on and crawls back to his pillows, where he lays over the top of the comforter, his bowl of rice balanced on his chest.

    he switches netflix on. “have you ever watched the haunting of hill house?”

    “no.” you crawl to your own pillows, flopping down beside him. “is it scary?”

    “it’s creepy,” he replies. “think you can handle it?” 

    glancing down, you catch sight of his playful smirk.

   you roll your eyes and say, “put it on.”

    and so, seokjin does just that. together, the two of you eat and binge watch this creepy, confusing tv show. by the end of it, you’ve both crawled beneath the covers and are trying desperately not to jump at the jump scares; seokjin laughed at you the first time you did it, before nearly spilling his black bean sauce over his pyjama shirt when he did the exact same thing a few minutes later. 

    “i hated that,” you say once the final episode drifts to a close. “i hated that so much.”

    seokjin places the empty bowls on the floor before slumping further down in the comforter. “it’s good, isn’t it? gets me every time!”

   “next time, i get to pick what we put on tv.”

    he raises a brow. “and what would you pick?”

   you hum thoughtfully. “i kind of want to rewatch the one direction movie.”

    “good choice.”

    “but that’s for tomorrow.” you tug the quilt up to your chin, snuggling within it’s warmth; you’re still quite freaked out, glancing round the now-dark room, half expecting some creepy, paranormal figure to jump out of the darkness. “for now, i’m going to sleep.”

   “what are your plans for tomorrow?”

   your stomach curls. “i gotta just. . . get my life together, i suppose. might go job hunting.”

    “i have work in the morning, but you can call me if you need anything.”

   you blink, glancing over at him; he’s doing it again, that thing where he says such kind, heartfelt things to a complete stranger and doesn’t even seem fazed by it. he just rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and drifts off to sleep.

    ----

      seokjin is already gone when you wake up. he’s left a note. it’s simple: “off to work. here’s my number.”

   followed, as promised, by his number.

    you punch the digits into your own phone and try to ignore the spiralling question of how you’re going to pay your phone bill at the end of the month. you have high hopes that you’ll have found your footing by then, gotten a job, have enough money saved up to get a decent flat you can call your own. 

   it’s just a matter of taking the steps to get there.

    you get dressed in a nice turtle neck jumper, coloured black for good measure. pairing it with a pair of fancy grey trousers and a pair of black boots, you head out onto the streets of Gwangju, and are abruptly reminded of the fact you have never walked through these streets in your life.

   everything is so new. you have to walk with your head ducked down, glancing at Google Maps every few steps because you honestly have no idea where you’re going. after searching up job vacancies nearby, you start your journey to the nearest one.

   it’s a clothing store. the boss isn’t in, so you leave.

   the second one is a little more promising; they let you leave your cv at the front desk, and the boy working seems nice enough to actually pass your details on to his manager. however, you don’t get much further than that, and you move on to the next one.

    it’s a bakery. 

    it’s a small bakery, most likely a family-run business. as soon as you walk in, you’re greeted by the smell of freshly baked bread and a smile peeking over the counter top; it’s a boy about your age, a flop of black hair covering one of his eyes. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing some muscular arms. he’s got an apron on, too, that says ‘Kiss the Cook’ on the front, but no name badge is in sight.

    “morning,” he says, despite it literally being 12:30pm. “you doing alright?”

    you run your hands through your hair; was he asking you that just out of kindness, or because you look dishevelled? you feel dishevelled, but you were hoping you had managed to pull yourself together a little bit before walking in here.

    he tilts his head. “what can i get you?”

   startled back to reality, you rush to the counter. placed in batches is piles upon piles of pleasant looking treats, all looking fresh from the oven. 

    “hi,” you begin. “uh - hi, yeah. i was looking on the internet earlier and saw you had a job going? i was just wondering if that’s - uh - still a thing?”

    the boys face lights up. “you saw the advertisement? that’s a first!”

   “yeah?” 

    “dad! dad, we’ve got someone here asking about the advertisement!”

    startled, you step back. an older, black haired man rushes from a room in the back, wiping his fingers on a towel. he’s frowning, but the expression quickly morphs into one of glee when he sees you standing there.

   “really?” he says. “well, isn’t that a damn miracle. i was starting to think i’d be in here for twelve hour days; my name’s robert, and this is my son, malachi.”

    “y/n,” you reply. “so - uh - i’m guessing the job is still up for grabs?” 

    “it is indeed,” robert replies. “give me two minutes whilst i freshen up, and we can sit down and chat. sound good?”

    your eyes widen. “really? do you not want to read my cv or anything?”

   robert waves a dismissive hand. “i’ll learn more about you through actual conversation than i ever will through a piece of scrap paper.” he turns on his heel. “i’ll be out in two minutes!”    

    you are stunned. this really isn’t how you expected things to go, especially considering your bad luck these past few months. 

   the bakery goes silent. you stare into dead space, waiting for the moment it all comes crashing down; the building is going to suddenly set on fire, or robert is gonna pop his head round the door and say “sike!” and you’ll have to trudge back to the B&B and inform seokjin of your failures.

    seokjin.

   his name startles you back to reality. quickly, you grab your phone from your back pocket, pull up his number and send him a quick text.

   hi. it’s y/n. might have a job. it’s at the bakery down the street. will keep you updated.

   you debate signing your message off with a kiss, decide against it and stuff your phone back into your pocket. it’s only then do you notice malachi’s eyes trained on you; he leans over the counter, arms folded, the tiniest of smirk playing on his face.

    he’s handsome in a weird way. he’s tall. he’s got messy black hair, and you’ve heard that’s what a lot of people are fawning over nowadays. it kind of reminds you of seokjin a little bit, though seokjin’s figure is a lot. . . kinder than this boys. seokjin’s lean and tall, muscles in just the right places. this boys hands look like they could choke you out in a matter of seconds. 

    his smile is pleasant, though. it brings a glint to his dark eyes. he hasn’t got any dimples on his chin.

    one point for seokjin, you suppose.

   you return his smile, suddenly a bit awkward beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. “so, robert’s your dad?”

    “yep. known him my whole life.”

    you laugh, because you’re pretty sure that’s a joke he’s just told. “it’s a nice place you’ve managed to run with him. very cosy. we don’t have places like this in Busan.”

    malachi’s eyebrows raise. slowly, he straightens up. “you’re not from here?”

   “afraid not. i moved here just yesterday, actually - kind of a spontaneous thing, but it’s been working for me so far.”

    “all on your own?”

   you pause. “well, not necessarily. my - uh - friend and i are here together.” yes. friend. you can call seokjin a friend. “he’s a chef.”

    malachi hums like this is some kind of grand revelation. “a chef, eh? i heard they earn quite a bit of money.”

    “oh, well, i don’t know. i don’t really ask him about his finances, if i’m honest.”

   “and whereabouts are you two staying?”

    “the B&B down the street.”

    again, his eyebrows shoot up. “the lodge? that’s a pretty expensive place to stay.”

    “we split the bill,” you say quickly, suddenly getting protective over seokjin; you’ve heard that tone in people’s voices before. malachi has probably made an entire sour opinion on seokjin purely because he’s been led to believe he’s rich.

   “he works hard for his money,” you add, because you feel like you have to. “it exhausts him, poor guy, but he loves what he does.”

     malachi stares at you. the pleasant grin from earlier has been wiped free from his face, replaced by a twist of his mouth. you look away, thankful to see robert bustling back, now wearing a clean white shirt free of apron and flour.

   “sorry for keeping you,” he says. “let’s go out the back where it’s a little warmer. that weather today could kill!”

    and so, shooting malachi one last smile, you follow his dad into the back. it is indeed very warm, the heat from the ovens immediately clinging to your skin. you shed your coat, throwing it over the back of your chair as robert takes a seat across from you and begins the interview.

    it doesn’t last very long. robert doesn’t seem like the picky type, asking you about your family and where you’re from. he focuses very little on your level of experience, though you try your hardest to fit in all those stories of you growing up around bakers, just to give your reputation that little push. 

    he talks to you like you’re an old friend, laughing at your jokes, telling his own childhood stories. he’s a really easy guy to be around, making the interview feel more like a casual chat than an actual job interview.

   finally, however, he claps his hands and says, “i think we have a winner!”

   you blink. “wait, really?” 

   he reaches forward, grabs your hands and shakes them, both at the same time. “you’re a lovely person, y/n. i’d love nothing more than for you to be on our team.”

    your heart thunders; that was so easy, too easy, but you’re not even going to ruin the moment by questioning it right now. instead, you grin and say, “i’d love that, thank you so much!”

    ----

    when seokjin arrives back at the B&B, it is already dark out. 

    eleven pm, if the clock is to be trusted in this place. already, you’re sprawled across the double bed, television blasting, your phone held over your face. you’ve had a shower and tucked yourself into some pyjamas.

    “you look comfortable.”

   your head shoots up. “seokjin! did you get my text?”

    he throws his coat from his shoulders, shaking the rain out of his dark hair. he looks exhausted, which makes you feel bad for having already taken up most of the bed, but you’re too excited to care too much.

    “i got your first text,” he replies, tossing his gym bag on the bed. “did you end up getting that interview, then?”

   “you bet i did!” you jump up, grinning from ear to ear. seokjin raises a brow, but chuckles when you throw your arms over his shoulders and say, “i got the job! i got the job! i got the job!”

   he pulls away, holding you at arms length. his eyes are wide, that smile big across his face. “they gave you it then and there?”

   “i make a wildly good first impression, seokjin, don’t you ever forget.”

    he scoffs. “sorry. sometimes i forget considering the first time i saw you, you were bawling your eyes out in the middle of a train station.”

    “literally no one asked you to remember that.” you pull him back in for a hug, squealing your excitement in his ear. 

   he laughs. his arms tighten around your waist, head nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and you might be imagining it, but you swear you can feel his joy, can hear it in his melodic laugh. he’s just as excited about this opportunity as you are, even though he has no reason to be.

    you pull away, tipping back onto the mattress. “i start in two days time.”

    “what are they gonna get you to do?”

    “baking, i assume. working the tills. just. . . baker stuff.”

   seokjin raises a brow, sitting down on the end of the bed. he smells like a kitchen. “do you actually know how to bake?”

   “of course i know how to bake. i wouldn’t have gone for an interview at a bakery if i didn’t.”

    “you never told me that.”

   you pause. “sorry. i didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

   seokjin shrugs, standing up again. he walks over to his luggage and tugs out another pair of pyjamas, this one adorned with little ducklings upon a blue background. “i just would have liked to know that, that’s all.”

    you watch as he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. seconds later, you hear water screeching out of the shower head, and you know then the conversation is over.

   you aren’t really sure what to make of it.

   he did seem a tad bit upset, but it’s difficult to tell with seokjin. you haven’t known him for very long at all, but within that short space of time, you’ve certainly been able to conclude that seokjin is more an optimist than a pessimist. he looks on the bright side of life, and even when he’s upset, he doesn’t really like to show it, like he’s afraid of spreading negativity.

    it can’t be very healthy.

   nonetheless, you were able to spot a few inconsistencies in his optimism during that conversation, and it makes you feel bad. you nuzzle beneath the covers and turn the television back on, wondering what on earth you did wrong.

   ---- 

    work is hectic.

   even though the bakery itself is never overly busy, there’s a lot to be done when it comes to hospitality. almost immediately you are put in charge of the tills, plus cleaning up when the mess gets too much. that means you spend your days darting back and forth between the front of the shop and the kitchen, trying to keep a healthy balance, but failing miserably.

   malachi tells you it’s alright, that even he and robert struggle to stay on top of things, but it still puts you in a sour mood. you want to be good at this. it’s been a brilliant opportunity, and you’re not willing to spoil it just yet.

    you’re on your second week of work when seokjin finally decides to pay a visit.

   you know he got the day off, because you woke up this morning and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of him still fast asleep beside you; it left your stomach in knots, your heart stumbling in your chest. it’s not like he shouldn’t have been there - he’s fallen asleep beside you every night for the past two weeks. however, you’ve never actually seen him there. he’s always gone when you wake up. 

    but this morning, you rolled over and was greeted, startlingly, by the sight of his sleeping face.

   his peaceful, adorable sleeping face.

    now, however, he’s spritely and awake. with two cups of coffee in his hand, he waltzes up to the counter and says, “cosy place.”

    you grin, taking one of the cups from him. “isn’t it? 

   he inspects the tiny bakery with a smile on his face, those dimples popping just shy of the corners of his mouth. “you never told me how cute it was in here; i would have visited much sooner.”

    “with your busy schedule? absolutely not.”

    seokjin rolls his eyes. “i would have made the time.” 

   you ignore how this comment makes you feel. you’ve gotten increasingly good at doing that these past few days. 

    you lean over the counter, taking tiny sips of your coffee. “so, what have you been doing with all your spare time?”

     “nothing,” he replies, a little too quick. “absolutely nothing. i had a few emails from the people back in Busan to deal with, but besides that, i’ve been sat in the B&B, watching netflix.”

    “sounds like a dream.”

    he shakes his head, the tiniest pout forming. “it’s awful. i’m bored. i’ve never been bored in the B&B before; i think you’re having a negative effect on me.”

    you shoot upright, jaw dropping open. “excuse me? you can’t blame me for the fact you have no hobbies!”

    “who said i have no hobbies?”

    “the fact that all you’ve done is watch netflix today kind of eludes to the fact that you have no hobbies.”

    seokjin scowls. the expression is adorable on him, with those stray dimples making an appearance. you really have to stop staring at those, because it’s going to get obvious pretty soon.

    “i have plenty of hobbies,” he grumbles. “in fact, i’ve been invited out for a few drinks tonight with my friends.”

    you pause. of course seokjin has friends. you were never under any illusion that he didn’t, but he doesn’t really talk about them. being locked up in a B&B with him for two weeks straight has given you plenty of time to pick his brain, analyse the life he used to life, and not once has he made any attempt to bring up these so-called friends.

   “oh,” you manage. “that sounds like it’ll be fun.”

    he hums cockily, like he’s just proved you wrong.

   “getting drunk isn’t a hobby unless you’re an alcoholic, by the way.”

    his smile drops. “i can never win with you, can i?”

   you shrug. “i’m just saying. why don’t you take up painting, or playing the guitar?”

   “okay, okay, i didn’t come in here for a therapy session; how much are those eclairs?”

    you giggle, but nonetheless, you duck down and pluck an eclair from the display cabinet. you place it in a bag and hand it over to him before saying, “don’t worry about it. i’ll slip some cash in the register at the end of the night.”

    seokjin pauses. his hand is inches away from the bag you’re holding out to him, those perfect fingers twitching like he has to physically restrain himself from snatching it out of your hand.

   you shake the bag to get his attention, but his eyes never leave your face. it’s kind of intimate if you let yourself think too much into it. “do you want the eclair or not? i made it.”

    he snatches his hand back dramatically. “never mind then. you can keep it.”

   you roll your eyes, grab his hand and place the bag in his palm. “don’t play the gentleman, seokjin; we’re all friends here. it doesn’t make you any less of a man to have someone buy you a fucking eclair.”

     you know how selfless seokjin is. of all the little quirks he has put on display for you since you met him, his selflessness has been the one that stands out the most. you see him battle with it now, the way he hesitates, the way his free hand twitches towards the wallet tucked into his back pocket. you give him one final look before he sighs and nods.

    “thank you.” 

   “now, tell me a bit about these plans you have for later.” you sip your coffee. “are these friends good people? do i need to be worried?”

    seokjin scoffs. “they are great people - i’ve known them for years. we’re just going out for a few drinks, a bit of a catch-up. nothing to be worried about.”

    “so i’ll have the B&B all to myself, will i?”

   he raises a brow. “don’t say it like that. you’re worrying me.”

   you roll your eyes, unable to fight the smile rising on your face. seokjin notices your amusement and shakes his head, because he knows you’re just winding him up. in all honesty, it makes you kind of glad seeing him go off and do his own thing. these past two weeks have really opened your eyes to just how much he works, and just how little time he has for himself. he deserves a bit of time with his friends.

   he leaves shortly after, claiming he has errands to run. he tells you to call him when you get home, and you agree to do so before waving him goodbye, watching through the window as he turns the corner and disappears amongst the crowd of people. 

    a hand lands on your shoulder.

   you jump back, startled. malachi laughs, holding his hands up in faux surrender; he’s a got a grin on his face, dimpleless, unlike seokjin, who has dimples just beneath the corners of his mouth, tiny little indents in his chin that you can never take your eyes off, because they’re so cute, and he gets so flustered when you point them out, and-

    “was that the husband?”

   you blink, certain you’ve heard him wrong. “what?”

   malachi nods towards the window. he’s got flour on his face, and you absentmindedly reach out and brush it off. “was that seokjin, or whatever his name is?”

   “did you just call him husband?”

   now it’s malachi’s turn to blink. he raises a brow, flicking his gaze between you and the door seokjin has just fled from. “is he not. . . do you two not live together?”

    “in a way,” you reply. “but we’re not married. he’s my friend, that’s all.”

    malachi scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “you had me fooled. ‘oh, call me when you get home!’ ‘have fun with your friends!’ ‘i’ll have the house all to myself!’ you certainly sound like an old married couple.”

    you really can’t believe you’re hearing this.

    it’s bizarre. utterly absurd. you and seokjin are definitely comfortable with each other at this point, but that doesn’t mean anything. he’s your friend - a good friend, your only friend in this new place. 

    plus, you don’t speak like an old married couple. that’s a stupid way to think. you two communicate like nothing more than two people who have been forced to sleep in the same bed for two weeks. 

    you shake your head. “i don’t even want to listen to this.”

   “so you’re telling me i’m wrong?” malachi demands as you shove past him into the kitchen.

   “yes, you are. that’s mental that you would even think that. i haven’t even known him that long-”

    “again, you could have fooled me! the way you two look at each other, it’s like you share memories from years ago.”

    you scowl, heat rising to your cheeks. “when the fuck did you become a poet?”

    malachi only laughs. you want him to shut up, because this is out of order. this is making you more flustered than it has any right to, and you don’t want to get flustered when you’re working with hot ovens.

    it’s not like he has any idea what he’s talking about. he’s seen the briefest glimpse of seokjin, certainly not enough to know how you two genuinely interact with each other. he hasn’t seen the bickering, the fights for the covers, seokjin huffing with you when you make him get up to turn the television off at the end of the night.

    so why are you getting so worked up?

   you push the question away as you get back to work, trying desperately to ignore malachi’s snickers every time he passes you; he knows what he’s done, of course, getting you all worked up like this, but you can’t help it. what if other people see you and seokjin like that? what if seokjin picks up on this assumption and decides to cut all ties with you, too afraid to be seen that close with someone like you?

    maybe you’re panicking over nothing. seokjin is a nice guy - the best guy. he won’t just up and leave you because of what other people think.

    but then again, you’ve only known him for two weeks, so who’s to say he won’t?

    ---

   seokjin has already left when you arrive home later that evening.

  it’s dark already, the winter showing it’s ugly head. little droplets of snow cling to your coat, your hair, your cheeks as you stumble through the door of your shared B&B, teeth gritted against the cold that has deemed your fingers and toes numb.

    left upon the bedside table is a note, the unmistakeable scribble of seokjin’s handwriting informing you that he doesn’t know when he will be home, but he still expects you to give him a ring whenever you finish work. you read the note over and over, unexplainable joy flaring within your system with the knowledge that he was thinking of you before he left, that he still wants to make sure you got home safe.

    you don’t call him.

    the thing is, malachi’s words have grated against your skull worse than you thought they should. he spent the entire day teasing you about your ‘little crush’ on seokjin, clearly relishing in how it made you squirm. it made you think, too, which is the worst part. you’ve spent these past two weeks on complete autopilot, just trying to make a life for yourself now that you’ve got a clean slate. you never once stopped to think about something as simple as relationships, or feelings, but now that malachi has sprung such a topic to the forefront, you can’t deny that the only person you can associate with such topics is seokjin.

    you can’t bring yourself to speak to him just yet. you’re too tired, and your body is sore, and you want nothing more than to crawl into bed and pretend today never happened.

    so that’s exactly what you do. turning your phone on silent, you get in your pyjamas and snuggle beneath the covers, trying to ignore the empty space at the side of you. 

   ----

    you wake up to the sound of the door slamming.

   your eyes snap open, heart jolting from your chest. for the briefest moment, you are entirely convinced you’re being robbed. any minute now, the barrel of a gun is going to be pointed at your face and you’ll have no choice but to give up all of your belongings, all of seokjin’s belongings, will probably be forced back to Busan because of your trauma, and-

    “oh shit. are you sleeping?”

   you bolt upright, tugging the quilt to your chin. standing in the doorway, seokjin looks tall, illuminated only by the hallway light outside. he’s wearing a fancy dress shirt and trousers, the top button undone to reveal sweat slicked collarbones, the sleeves rolled up to reveal perfectly muscled arms. his hair stands on end, and he’s got a pout on his face that reveals his drunkenness in all it’s glory.

   your heartbeat slows.

   “seokjin?”

    he shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no. no, sh. go back to sleep. i didn’t mean to wake you up.”

   his words are slurred. he’s definitely drunk.

   he stumbles towards the bed, using the bedside table to stay upright. he blinks drearily when his eyes meet yours; despite having just spoken to you, he’s looking at you now like he’s only just realised you’re actually in the room.

   he clicks his fingers. “i had something i wanted to say to you.”

    you blink. “o-okay. do you want water first? you look a little-”

   “it was really important,” he continues. “i’m pretty sure i was mad at you.”

   you swing your legs out of bed. “okay, you definitely need water.”

    you scramble to the sink, grabbing a glass from the counter and filling it with ice cold water. seokjin slumps on the bed, running his nimble fingers through his hair, mumbling incoherent words to himself.

    looking at the clock, you see it is two in the morning; he has work in five hours, and is clearly in no state to do a full day of work. you make a mental note to ring the restaurant and tell them he’s taken ill.

   you turn, placing the glass on the bedside table. “did you have a good time?”

    “no,” he replies. “worried. i was worried the entire night.”

   you raise a brow, trying your hardest not to look at the skin showing through his shirt. “worried? about what?”

    he gestures, encompassing the entire room.

   “seokjin, i can look after the room on my own, you know,” you say. 

   “i wasn’t worried about the room.” he scowls, glaring at the carpet like it’s upset his ancestors. “i couldn’t care less about the room. it’s whats in the room that worried me.”

   you blink. “you’re losing me, mate.”

    he groans, tossing his head back. the sudden jolt tips his entire body. you jump forward and grab his arm, stabilising him before he cracks his skull on the floor. 

   “seokjin, jesus christ, take a sip of your water.”

   he pushes your hand away. “not thirsty. just worried.”

   “about what?”

   “you didn’t call me when you got home from work!”

    you falter. you remember his note, of course, but you had promptly fell asleep before you could do as he’d asked; you didn’t think it was that big of a deal. however, he’s sat in front of you now with a pout on his face, eyes glaring like you’ve done something massively wrong.

   you swallow, trying to ignore the butterflies rushing through your stomach. “y-you were worried about me?”

    “i asked you to call me when you got home from work, and i didn’t get a single call the entire night. i thought you’d been kidnapped or something. the only reason i didn’t come storming back here was because my friends wouldn’t let me leave.”

    he’s lying. of course he is. he’s lying, and he’s drunk, and he’s going to regret ever pouring his heart out like this tomorrow morning.

   you hollow out your cheeks, overcome with a sudden wave of exhaustion. you gently pat his cheek, making his eyes widen.

   “what are you doing?” he asks.

    “i’m putting you to bed,” you reply, and even to yourself, your voice sounds tired, fed up, a mere drawl in the darkness. “you’re not going to work tomorrow, but you need to sleep this alcohol off. come on.”

    he scowls, glancing down at his attire; he’s still in his day clothes. “i can’t sleep in jeans.”

   you stare at him. he stares back at you, making no move to remove the clothes he has such a grudge against right now.

    you close your eyes, inhaling deeply. “fine then.” with that, you grab his belt and unbuckle it. a sharp gasp slips past his lips that you do a fine job of ignoring, even as it makes your cheeks heat up, forcing you to bite down on your tongue. you tell yourself on a loop that you’re just doing a favour for a friend, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them from his legs. the entire time, he stares at you with his mouth slightly open, tanned cheeks glowing red more from the alcohol than anything else. even in his drunken state, his gaze makes you weak. you’re not even making eye contact with him, instead choosing to keep your eyes firm on your trembling hands.

   when at last his jeans have been tossed across the room and he is left in a pair of boxers, you shove him back onto the bed and say, “now go to sleep. i’m gonna go for a shower.”

   seokjin rolls his head back. he sinks into the pillows, one side of his face completely engulfed by the fabric. “but it’s so late! what if you drown?”

    you head for the bathroom, trying to calm your stampeding heart. “i won’t drown. stop worrying about me.”

   “i always worry about you,” he grumbles. “you’re special to me.”

   you pretend you haven’t heard him. it’s so much easier than dealing with those words, than letting them wriggle into your brain, because they will do nothing but torment you the rest of the night.

    you slip into the shower, and it is there that you let yourself dissolve. you’re so tired, limbs heavy, heart still racing. not even the spray of hot water is enough to wake you up - the only thing keeping you on your feet right now is the memory of his drunken words, spoken slurred and rushed. he probably didn’t even mean them, but that doesn’t take from the fact he said them, and you heard them, and they’re going to complete destroy you if you keep thinking about them.

   ---

   seokjin nudges your shoulder.

   your eyes fly open, head jolting up. your neck cracks, making you yelp and fall back against the pillows - unfamiliar pillows, considering you fell asleep on the sofa the night before.

   you groan, rubbing the back of your neck as you slowly rise into a sitting position. seokjin stands over you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted. he doesn’t say anything as you bring yourself back to reality, glancing around the room like you’ve never seen it before.

    he takes a step back; he’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, and he’s got a mug of fresh coffee in his hands. 

   you reach up and take the mug. “thanks.”

   “it wasn’t yours, but okay.” he sits down beside you, placing your legs in his lap. “is there a reason you fell asleep on the sofa last night? it doesn’t look very comfortable.”

   you blink, because for just a moment, you don’t think there is a reason. you’re ready to tell him nope, it was an accident, you just drifted off, haha, silly you!

   but last night doesn’t take long crawling back to the forefront of your mind. his words, his silly grin, your fingers on his belt buckle-

   you swallow the scalding drink and say, “i thought you might have liked the bed to yourself after your wild night out.” you nudge his arm. “how are you feeling today anyway? hungover?”

   he rubs his temple, though he doesn’t seem to be in too much pain; by the looks of things, he’s had a shower, which means he probably went for one of his morning runs beforehand. “i’ve got a bit of a headache, but nothing major. i don’t even remember how i got home.”

    oh, thank god.

    “i took care of you, don’t worry.” 

   seokjin scoffs. “i can see that. did i at least take my own trousers off?”

   you take another hasty sip of coffee. “yes, of course. i wouldn’t go near that area with a six foot pole.”

   seokjin rolls his eyes before standing up. he stretches his arms over his head, revealing a tiny lick of skin just above the waistband of his sweats. you look away sharply, causing another painful snap to course down your neck.

    you wince. “fucking hell.”

    he looks over his shoulder. “what?”

   “just my neck.”

   he drops his hands to his sides, turning to face you. his eyes narrow as he watches you rub the back of your neck, twisting your head from side to side in any attempt to get rid of the burning sensation dancing along the top of your spine. finally, he sits back down, puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you away from him.

   you falter. “uh, seokjin?”

   “i learned this when i was in Daegu a few years back.” he digs his fingers into the base of your neck, and immediately a pressure is released. it’s a pressure you didn’t even realise was there. 

    it disintegrates beneath his fingers, only to be replaced by another pressure, completely unrelated to mere muscle pain. it settles in your stomach, makes you stiffen beneath his grip, and he must notice, because he chuckles, and it takes the form of a breeze blowing against the back of your neck.

    you swallow. this really isn’t how you should be feeling right now. this entire situation should not be happening. seokjin is your friend. he’s that guy who saved you from a potential, second mental breakdown. he’s that guy you share a bed with completely out of inconvenience. he’s the guy you tease and eat dinner with.

    he’s seokjin.

   despite being fully aware of how out of place this entire experience is, you make no effort to shift away from him. in fact, almost against your will, you sink closer to him, your back hitting against his knees, and again, that gentle breeze tickles the back of your neck.

    “good?” his voice is gruff, quiet. 

    “good.” your voice is high pitched, embarrassing.

    seokjin chuckles again, a third time, before you feel his lips against your shoulder blade.

    the sensation is wild. it’s such a simple touch, nothing more than a peck against your flesh, but it sends your brain into a spiral. you hate yourself for it, how such a simple action can destroy you in seconds.

    and it’s destroying you, sending your brain into overdrive, but you want more of it. you desperately, desperately want more of it, and maybe that’s why you lean into his touch. maybe that’s why you let his hands slide around your waist. maybe that’s why you close your eyes, tilt your head back into the crook of his neck, let his plump lips explore your neck. you are in complete bliss, unable to even form words, fairly certain you’re losing yourself in-

    the phone rings.

   you jolt away from him, gasping as reality floods back into you. fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck, you can’t believe you just did that. you can’t believe you let yourself get lost like that.

   you jump up from the sofa and rush for the phone, too scared to spare seokjin a glance. he isn’t saying anything, which can only be a bad sign, and quite frankly, you haven’t even got your head screwed on well enough to deal with that.

    you grab the phone and pull it to your ear, all without looking at the caller id.

    “hello?”

   “y/n?”

   you inhale sharply. “robert. fuck. i’m late, aren’t i?”

   “are you well? it’s not like you to be late.”

   you run a hand through your hair, glancing at the clock on your nightstand - you’re only late by fifteen minutes, but that doesn’t change anything. you got distracted. you should have been paying closer attention.

    “i’m fine. sorry. so sorry. just - uh - slept in. i slept in. i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

   robert replies. you’re certain of it, but you don’t pick up on what he’s said. you slam the phone back down and spin, finally looking at seokjin. he’s dazed, staring back at you with eyes blown wide and mouth slightly open, slightly swollen, damp from where his tongue has surely traced patterns over them since you stood up.

   you swallow thickly. “i have to go to work.”

   “y/n-” 

   “you don’t have to say anything.” you snatch your keys off the bedside table, along with your phone and a pen that you don’t even need, but you just want to grab more stuff, just want to feel the heavy weight of objects in your hands. “i get it, okay? that was weird. we were both lost in the moment. you don’t have to explain yourself.”

   he opens his mouth to reply, but you’re on a roll with cutting people off before you can hear what they have to say. you dart out the door, yelling “see you later!” over your shoulder before the door slams closed behind you. 

   you waste no time. if you stop, you’re going to think, and the kinds of thoughts that will surely rush to the surface are not the kind you want to be dealing with right now.

   you arrive at the bakery in ten minutes, feet aching from how harshly they were slamming against the pavement in the cold, wet rain. nonetheless, you don’t care. you genuinely don’t care, not when you pull your coat off and slip your apron over your head, immediately snatching the oven gloves out of malachi’s hands.

   his head snaps up. that award winning grin flashes across his face when he says, “y/n! you made it!”

    “what are we making?” you ask. 

    malachi’s smile slips. “uh. . . i mean, it’s not that busy. there’s no rush. if you wanna grab a coffee or something before you start-”

    “i’ll make muffins.”

    malachi blinks. you don’t humour him with a response, instead getting to work immediately. you can feel him watching you from across the kitchen, dark eyes burning holes into the back of your head. you just keep working, even though your hands are beginning to tremble, and you can still feel seokjin’s mouth on your bare skin. your heart is yet to recover, still beating erratically in your chest.

   “y/n?” malachi mumbles. “are you sure everything’s alright?”

   you remember his words from the previous day, how bizarre they sounded when you first heard them; it just didn’t make any sense at the time that anyone would think seokjin had feelings for you, that he looked at you as anything more than a friend. you had gone home entirely convinced that you and seokjin would remain friends, and that was all, whether you liked it or not.

   but then he just has to go and do that, messing up every logical thought you once held. 

    you don’t even know if he likes you like that, or if it really was just a spur of the moment thing. he might have still had alcohol in his system. maybe he didn’t even know what he was doing.

    malachi’s hand on your shoulder startles you. you yelp, hands twitching, warm pan crashing to the floor. 

   “woah!” malachi grabs you, dragging you back before you can burn yourself. “careful there, mate.”

   you close your eyes. “fuck, i’m sorry. i didn’t-”

   “are you gonna tell me what’s wrong with you today or are we just gonna keep having incidents like this?”

   you meet his gaze; there is no malice in his words, no threat or disappointment. he’s worried about you. 

    you sigh, falling back against the counter. “just. . . seokjin things.”

    malachi pauses. “seokjin? the husband?”

   “he’s not my-”

   “the guy you live with? the guy who was here yesterday?”

    “that’s the one.”

   malachi picks up the warm pan with a towel. “what has he done? he seemed like a nice bloke.”

   “he’s an amazing bloke,” your quick to say, though the words make your cheeks heat up. “he really is amazing. he’s just also . . . very confusing.”

    malachi raises a brow. “confusing how?”

   “confusing. . .” you gesture vaguely, as if that in itself is a good enough adjective to describe just how confusing seokjin is. 

   malachi nods like he understands. he leans against the counter, shoulder brushing yours. for just a moment, it truly feels like there is nothing left to say; how do you comfort someone in a situation like this? how do you comfort anyone, let alone a person you’ve known for only a handful of days, someone you only know the bare bones about.

   nonetheless, malachi’s silence is reassuring. it calms you down to a point where you can gently take the pan from his hand and set it on the counter, your breathing straying back to a normal rhythm.

    “so,” he begins once you start gathering random ingredients. “correct me if i’m wrong, but i’m guessing seokjin did something that messed with your feelings a little bit?”

   you bite your lip, and that is response enough.

   “ah.” he pauses for another brief moment. “you weren’t uncomfortable with any of it, were you? ‘cause i’ll hang him up by his balls if he-” 

    “no!” the word is ripped from your throat, urgent. “no, malachi, it was nothing like that. seokjin would never do anything like that.”

   “then what did he do?”

   “he kissed me.” you pause. “kind of.”

   malachi’s eyebrows rise. you watch the cogs turning his brain, probably trying to understand the riddle you have just presented him.

   you hasten to clarify. “him and i have been purely friends from the moment we met. we live together just for convenience. he never showed signs of wanting to date anyone, let alone date me, and then this morning he just. . . got a little touchy, and it confused me, because i always just thought he didn’t want that kind of relationship with me.”

   “sounds like an awful lot of information on what he wants rather than what you want.”

   you frown. “what i want doesn’t matter.”

    malachi stares at you. you stare back, because you don’t want to think about what you want. you don’t want to dig into that dark crevice of your mind until everything else is sorted; you have to get your own life together before you can start thinking about sharing that life with someone else.

    especially someone like seokjin.

   someone who is perfect. someone who seems to have everything under control. he’s only young, not even thirty, and yet he’s travelling korea, cooking in top class restaurants, going out with friends who love him. he’s essentially living the dream.

    you’re just the person who intruded on that dream-like life, stumbling through your own life tragically.

    you look away as the thought strikes you; again, you can’t focus on that kind of thing. it’s scary. it’s uncharted territory, and you won’t let yourself be engulfed by it.

   ---

   when you arrive home, seokjin is cooking dinner.

    “ooh, something smells good!” you exclaim, trying to ignore the frantic thump of your heart.

    seokjin glances over his shoulder; his cheeks are burning red, an apron placed over his pyjamas. his hair is ruffled, and you know for a fact he’s only just now getting out of bed. he probably spent the entire day watching tv, and honestly, you envy him for it. your feet are aching for the long hours you put in at the bakery, and you want nothing more than to curl up and turn on some eastenders.

    “you’re home!” he replies. 

   “i’m home.” you shake your coat off and approach. “what are you making?”

   “spaghetti bolognese. something simple.”

   “i never took you as the type to do anything simple.”

    he grins, shooting you a wink. you hide your smile with an eye roll and grab some bowls from the cupboards, setting them down beside his work station before getting to work on grating the cheese; you know seokjin loves to smother his spaghetti in cheese. you’ve teased him about it on countless occasions.

    “so, how was work?” he asks, scooping the pasta into two bowls. 

    “quiet,” you reply. “malachi and i did some inventory for the ingredients, and robert was gone half the day for a business meeting.”

    “must have been pretty stressful.”

   you shrug, nodding a thanks as seokjin passes you your dinner. “it was nice. there weren’t too many customers in, so it was pretty chill.”

   seokjin sits down beside you, shoulder brushing yours. 

   you frown, glancing at his bowl. “how come you got more pasta than me?”

   “i cooked it.” he twirls some pasta onto his fork and shoves it in his mouth. “therefore, i get the majority of it.”

    “i was at work all day, starved to near insanity-”

    “bit dramatic.”

    “let me have some!”

    before seokjin can move, you dig your fork into his bowl, scoop some pasta up and slap it back into your own. seokjin’s eyes widen, splutters slipping past his lips. you simply grin, popping a forkful into your mouth.

    “you know,” he begins, voice low, “i would have given you some if you’d given me the chance.”

    “that’s alright. i’ve got it now.”

    seokjin scowls, slumping back against the sofa. he stares at the side of your head for what feels like forever, and you feel every goosebump his gaze induces. 

    he hasn’t brought up what happened that morning, which doesn’t make you feel too good. you spent the entire day reliving the scene in your head, feeling the echo of his lips against your shoulder blade, and he’s sat beside you now, pretending nothing even happened. does he do that with lots of people? is he just a natural flirt and you never even picked up on it?

    because, at the end of the day, you really don’t know seokjin all that well. you’ve grown fond of his personality and him as a person, but how much does that tell you about a person? not an awful lot, that’s for sure.

   you squirm a little, unable to hide your mild discomfort; there’s a tension pressing between you both, but you don’t know if he feels it, too. when you glance over your shoulder, he’s just lounging, that stupid smile on his face, staring at you like he knows how flustered you are and siphons nothing but joy from it.

    you’re going to explode. any minute now, your body is going to go up in flames. you need to say something. you need to do something.

    so you turn, open your mouth and- 

    his lips are on yours in seconds.

    how he moved so fast, you are unsure, but the question doesn’t even matter as you melt into his grip entirely against your will. his lips mould against yours, so perfect, made for each other, but there is a voice in the back of your head screaming that this is wrong, that this is an entire friendship on the line, and are you really ready to destroy that for the sake of a passing fancy?

    you let yourself kiss him back for a few more seconds. you just want to savour it. you just want to run your fingers through his hair a few more times before finally pulling yourself together.

   you jerk back a little too hastily. he gasps at the sudden loss of contact, eyes wide, one hand still hovering in the air where he once cradled your face.

    you swallow, standing up. you run your hands down the front of your jeans, shaking your head, trying not to make a scene, but all the emotions you felt this morning are coming back, and you’re just confused again. confused, and agitated, and you want nothing more than to ravish him, but at what cost?

    he looks up at you. “y/n?”

    it’s just your name, but it shatters you. it’s always sounded so good coming from his lips. it’s always sounded so natural.

    “i’m sorry,” you choke out. “uh - i just - i don’t think-”

   seokjin stands up. “don’t apologise. i’m sorry - i shouldn’t have just assumed-”

    “i really like you, seokjin, but-”

   “but not like that. don’t worry, i get it. i completely understand.” he rubs the back of your neck, cheeks glowing bright red. “we can just forget anything ever happened.”

   your stomach curls; you don’t want to do that. you won’t be able to do that, but you humour him with a curt little nod. he smiles warily, hesitates just a bit before slumping down on the sofa and grabbing his spaghetti again. he doesn’t ask you to sit with him. he doesn’t ask you if you’re alright. he just turns the tv on and carries on eating, not giving you a second glance when you awkwardly walk right past the sofa and get into bed.

    ----

     the days are awkward.

   awkward, and borderline unbearable, to put it simply.

   you go to work. so does seokjin. you both come home, eat dinner, and then go to bed, but neither of you know what to say or do in between those crucial moments. 

    seokjin doesn’t even joke around with you like he used to. he just laughs at your own pitiful attempts to lighten the mood before asking you what you want for dinner. once you respond, he uses it as an excuse to ignore you for the rest of the night as he goes off and makes it.

   it really is ripping you apart. he was your friend, but he was also your crush.

   yes, your crush. like some stupid high school drama. every time you saw him, your heart fluttered and you would go to sleep to thoughts of his arms around you, even if such a scenario once seemed so out of the equation.

   and he likes you back. you know that. he kissed you, for crying out loud! nonetheless, there’s that voice in the back of your head reminding you that he is so much better than you, that he has his life together entirely whilst you don’t even have an outline of where you want yours to go.

    two people so different in nature would never last long together, and that would leave you with not a trace of seokjin in your life. you didn’t want that.

    but it’s kind of what you’ve been given anyway. 

    nowadays, you don’t even say goodbye to him when you leave for work, even if he’s awake. you just tug on your uniform and start walking, locking the door behind you because he has his own set of keys and he can unlock it whenever he wants. 

   you’re miserable at work, too, which doesn’t make you a blast to be around, a fact that malachi points out on a daily basis. every time he sees you, he rolls his eyes and tells you to cheer up, but you’ve gotten to the point where you just don’t care any more - you’re gonna bring the mood down, and that’s all there is to it. you’re not going to try and fix it until you’ve fixed yourself.

   which is taking an awfully long time when you’re constantly surrounded by the problem.

    it’s been a week and a half now. you walk home, sluggish and anxious, but stupidly excited to see seokjin nonetheless. that’s how this always goes. that’s why it’s so fucking confusing. 

    you unlock the door, step inside, and immediately your heart drops into your stomach.

    seokjin looks up from his suitcase and gives you the weariest smile you have ever seen him wear. it’s crooked, the dimples not even appearing. it’s fake. 

    you pause in the doorway, fingers tightening on the door knob. “what are you doing?”

     he looks back down at the pile of clothes - his clothes - he has stacked upon the bed. he bites his lower lip, takes a moment to respond, and your heart is going to burst.

   “seokjin...” you step into the room, wincing at the door closing behind you. “what are you doing? why have you got all your stuff out?” 

    “i’ll keep paying the room. it’s the least i can do.”

   you drop your bag to the floor. “fuck off. no way. you’re joking.”

   “y/n-”

   you stumble back as he stumbles forward. your back hits against the door, and he pauses like he’s just realised he’s scaring a timid animal.

    “fuck off.” you shake your head, swiping your hand beneath your eyes; there are tears. already. great. “are you serious? you couldn’t have told me?” 

    seokjin rubs the back of his neck. “things haven’t been right since-”

   “i know that! i know they haven’t, but god, what fucking age are you?” you’re yelling now, unsure where all this anger has come from. “we’re grown adults, seokjin! so what you kissed me? that doesn’t mean we can’t sit down and talk about you literally moving out!”

    “this was never a permanent place for me anyway, and you knew that!” he exclaims. veins protrude from his neck. he looks so attractive, it’s almost dizzying. “it’s a fucking B&B, y/n!”

    “that’s so far from the point,” you growl. “the point is, you’re moving out, leaving me on my own, and you didn’t even bother to tell me!”   

    “what would it have done?”

   “it would have stopped us from having this argument!”

   seokjin scoffs. “you having a bit of sense would have stopped us from having this fucking argument!”

    you shake your head, raising a trembling hand. “nah, you know what, fuck you. all you are is a selfish little twat who only thinks about himself. so leave. go off somewhere, cook your fancy fucking meals, and don’t bother paying another penny towards this room because i’ve got it handled. i’m not that little bitch sobbing on the subway any more.”

    “no. instead you’re that little bitch yelling at me for no reason-”

    “are you serious?”

    “you know what, i didn’t want to leave here angry. i’ve had some fantastic times in this room, but you just make it so difficult. you drive me insane sometimes!”

   you laugh bitterly, head thrown back and eyes wild. “do i? do i really, seokjin? so why the hell did you kiss me?”

     and something inside him snaps. you can see it in the flames that rise in his expression, in the way his knuckles immediately glow white with the grip he now has on forearm. 

   “because i’ve never met anyone who can do that to me, ever, and it was the hottest fucking thing in the world.”

     not exactly romantic, but you freeze nonetheless.

   seokjin tilts his head. “is that what you wanted to hear? do you want me to go into detail about how sleeping beside you without touching you was the hardest fucking thing for me? do you want me to go into detail about how i wanted to rip malachi’s head off when he made you laugh that one time at the bakery? do you want me to go into detail about how leaving is the only thing that is going to keep me sane, because if i’m around you for another minute with you hating me, i’m going to die.”

     you blink. you blink, and blink, and you stare at him, waiting for the punchline. all he does is pant, shoulders rising and falling, cheeks flushed red. he can’t even look at you. instead, he turns on his heel and marches back to his suitcase, grabbing another pile of clothes and stuffing it haphazardly on top of the others.

    “there,” he grumbles. “just rip the fucking confession out of me, will you? god, calling me selfish. if you want me to stay here when i’m being driven mental, that makes you selfish. i offered to keep paying for the house-”

    “seokjin.”

    “i wouldn’t just leave you with nothing. i’m not a dick. but if you really think that, then-”

  shit. 

    you rush forward before he can sink further into that theory. 

   you grab his arms, pulling him round to face you, and with one hand clipped to the back of his head, you drag him down and kiss him.

    it’s not practised. you certainly didn’t come home tonight thinking you would be kissing seokjin by the end of it, but you make the most of your spontaneity. 

    he stumbles a little bit, clearly taken off guard, but he catches himself soon enough and grabs your waist, pulling you closer. your hips clash against his. your hands ruffle his hair. his tongue bashes against yours because this kiss is more than just a declaration of. . . of whatever it is you’re feeling. this kiss is sloppy, and ravenous, and frustration all pulled into one, and it shows. it really, really shows as seokjin spins and pushes you back onto the bed, just managing to dodge his neat piles of clothes.

   you shove one off the bed and drag him on top of you.

   he groans, kissing your neck. “it took me an hour to fold those.”

    “they’re gonna get messy anyway.”

    his eyes sparkle. “oh?”

    you pull him back down, determined to lose yourself in the feel of him against you, the feel of his surprisingly strong arms circling your waist. you forget everything. you let yourself forget everything, instead savouring this moment in all it’s entirety. it’s easily done when seokjin sprinkles fire across your neck, your stomach, your thighs. it’s easily done when he lets you do the same thing, touching him in places you once thought you would never touch.

    you wonder, as his lips find your own, how you ever thought this would be anything less than perfect. 

----

    you wake up the next morning, knowing you don’t have to go to work, feeling more refreshed than you have in weeks.

    you stretch, fingers snatching at the covers in search of seokjin. when they reach no conclusion, you peek open one eye and glance across the room, not surprised to see him standing in front of the mirror, fingers trailing through the hair your own fingers had attacked the previous night.

   you slump back against the pillows. “can you not call in sick?”

    his eyes snap up. he grins, those dimples popping just beneath the corners of his mouth. “afraid not. i didn’t know you were awake.”

    “i wasn’t until approximately two seconds ago.”

    he turns and walks towards the bed. kneeling on his side - and it has unconsciously become his side - he bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead; you wrinkle your nose, very aware of the sweat you didn’t wash off yourself last night, very aware of the fact you haven’t brushed your teeth or your hair, or made any effort at all.

    nonetheless, seokjin grins at you. “who would have thought you would look so beautiful after we fucked.”

   you gasp, shoving him away.

   he chuckles, going back to fixing his hair in the mirror. 

   but now that he brings it up, memories of the previous night rise to the surface; you remember most of it very well, because it was the best you’ve felt in a very, very long time. it was pleasure and relief and happiness all rolled into one, and you never wanted it to end.

    but then there was the moments before that, when you had both spoken words neither of you meant.

   at least, you didn’t mean what you said.

   seokjin must notice your sudden demeanour shift, as he glances over and says, “it’s water under the bridge.”

   you sit up, tugging the quilt around your bare chest. “we should talk about it.”

   “and say what?”

   “and apologise.”

   he turns. “i’m sorry. you know i am. i didn’t mean a single thing i said.”

   “either did i.”

    “good.” he turns back to the mirror. “that’s that sorted then. we can go back to being madly infatuated with each other.”

    you purse your lips; maybe he is a little bit upset. in all honesty, you wouldn’t be surprised; you said some pretty hurtful things in the moment, things you will regret for the rest of your life. even though seokjin knows - he must know - that you didn’t mean any of it, that doesn’t mean it won’t plague his mind for the next little while.

   you rise from the bed, forgetting the quilt - it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, of course. he watches your movements through the mirror, his lower lip slowly - sexily - disappearing behind his teeth. 

   you wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your bare chest into his back. you listen to his breaths, slow and trained, like he’s trying to keep himself calm. part of you wants him to just lose control, to just spin around and take you into his arms, to forget about work and everything else.

   but he’s seokjin. he’s got his life together. he won’t do that.

   you press a kiss to the back of his neck and whisper, “i really am sorry. you’re the most amazing man i’ve ever met. the most selfless, amazing man in the world.”

    he closes his eyes, tilting his head back. “t-thank you.”

    “and i can’t wait for you to finish work so i can show you just how much i appreciate you.”

   he groans, low in his throat. “i have to go to work.”

    you nuzzle your head between his shoulder blades. “i never said you didn’t.”

    he pulls away, spins around and kisses you. deeply, feverishly, like he’s never going to return and this is the last time he will ever get to hold you like this. you melt against him, giggling against his mouth as his hands cup your face and he pants against you.

   finally, he pulls away and shakes his head. his eyes are wide, blown out when he points at you and says, “we’re not finished yet, understand? i’ll be back in, like, eight hours.”

   you lay back on the bed, all naked flesh on show. “and i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

[thedykeprincess]

So you were disappointed in Throne of Glass...

 (DISCLAIMER: This post does not intend to offend anyone who loves ToG. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and likes and dislikes and is allowed to express that. This post is meant to share books that have similar qualities to ToG for people who were disappointed in the series, like myself, but anyone who does like ToG can absolutely find great recs here! However, if you don’t want to hear anything ToG critical I recommend skipping over this post. Thank you!)

So last week I finally got rid of all my ToG books. I was mostly relieved that I now have more room on my bookshelf but I also felt a little sad. It was a series I really enjoyed when I first read it two years ago, and on some level it will always have a special place for me. It was one of the many books that got me back into reading after a five year slump, it’s the reason I became friends with the wonderful Nicole (@/rainbowbooktheif on Instagram) who was the first person irl to make me feel less alone as a bookish nerd, and it, unintentionally, helped me hone my critical reading skills. However, I slowly began to care less and less for the story and characters as the series progressed and ended up not reading the last two books because I just stopped caring. I wondered why a series that I loved so much in the beginning went down hill so fast for me, but in the process of falling out of love with ToG I realized I wasn’t the only one who felt this way about the series! The lack of diversity (and misrepresentation/mistreatment of diverse characters when they were there), sexism, lazy editing and lackluster world building, among other things, came up many times for me and other former ToG fans when discussing why we became disappointed in the series. But the pitch for the book (badass morally gray assassin taking down a tyrant king for her freedom, so cool!) and some of the elements (romance, female friendships, magic, trials) sounded so amazing even though in the end it was executed poorly. So, I decided to compile a list of books that I have read and loved that have some elements and themes of ToG. This list is by no means exhaustive and is limited by the books that I have read (which is not many when you look at how many books exist in the world) so I would love to see your recommendations! Please feel free to add onto this post any recs that you have! Now onto the list!

1) Graceling by Kristin Cashore

I read this book the summer before I started ToG and completely loved it. It was one of the early books that got me back into reading and it was honestly the perfect book for that. It was exciting and I couldn’t put it down. It follows an assassin for a tyrannical king who begins to realize her own gifts for killing are more then she ever thought they could be. Cashore does a fantastic job developing the lead character Katsa and the ways that she dolls out information to the readers slowly is impeccable. While this book is technically the first in a trilogy of books taking place in the Graceling world, it can be read as a standalone fantasy (which I feel like are very rare). Another part of this book that I really loved was the romance. I usually don’t read very many straight romances (due to the sexist/problematic aspects many of the ones that I’ve read have) but the relationship between Katsa and Po is honestly a breath of fresh air when you’re used to a lot of toxicity and sexism with cishet romances in books. The two take care of each other and their relationship is very balanced. There are no gender roles pushed on either of them and they truly grow to become a team throughout the story and it’s wonderful to see! I would consider Katsa and Po, while canonically cis (there isn’t any explicit queer rep in this book), both quite androgynous characters who often express themselves in a fluid manner which I really appreciate. Over all this is an amazing classic YA fantasy that everyone should check out!

Synopsis: “Katsa has been able to kill a man with her bare hands since she was eight—she’s a Graceling, one of the rare people in her land born with an extreme skill. As niece of the king, she should be able to live a life of privilege, but Graced as she is with killing, she is forced to work as the king’s thug.

She never expects to fall in love with beautiful Prince Po.

She never expects to learn the truth behind her Grace—or the terrible secret that lies hidden far away . . . a secret that could destroy all seven kingdoms with words alone.

With elegant, evocative prose and a cast of unforgettable characters, debut author Kristin Cashore creates a mesmerizing world, a death-defying adventure, and a heart-racing romance that will consume you, hold you captive, and leave you wanting more.”

2) Three Dark Crowns by Kendare Blake

This book is the first in a five book series about three royal sisters raised to battle it out for the throne. I must admit the first book in the series is a little lackluster due to the fact that it’s setting up a lot but the second book just blows everything out of the water in a fantastic way. This series is dark and bloody and intriguing. I got completely hooked on this series and it brought out a lot of emotion to the point where I was gasping and shouting and throwing my book around as I was reading it (I got very invested)! I think that’s one of the things SJM can do well is get you hooked on her characters and Kendare can do the same (if not better). I love the dynamic between the sisters, this book does a great job at exploring the darker side of familial and female/female relationships (mostly platonic.. there isn’t very much queer rep unfortunately) that I really appreciate. The magic system and wolrdbuliding are also something that I enjoyed and I though was quite well done. Kendare does a good job at weaving in worldbuilding and magic system seamlessly into the story and I love that so much. Three Dark Crowns is just a fun and exciting series that I think anyone who loves fantasy YA should check out!

Synopsis: “ In every generation on the island of Fennbirn, a set of triplets is born—three queens, all equal heirs to the crown and each possessor of a coveted magic. Mirabella is a fierce elemental, able to spark hungry flames or vicious storms at the snap of her fingers. Katharine is a poisoner, one who can ingest the deadliest poisons without so much as a stomachache. Arsinoe, a naturalist, is said to have the ability to bloom the reddest rose and control the fiercest of lions.

But becoming the Queen Crowned isn’t solely a matter of royal birth. Each sister has to fight for it. And it’s not just a game of win or lose…it’s life or death. The night the sisters turn sixteen, the battle begins.

The last queen standing gets the crown. “

3) The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

So a little disclaimer, this book is one of my favorite fantasy books of all time. I read it over the span of a few months last summer (its a long one guys...800+ pages) and it was one of the greatest, most well thought out fantasy books I’d ever had the pleasure of reading. I loved the characters, the world, the plot, the magic system etc. I loved everything! There’s some great political intrigue, dragon riders, epic battles, prophecies, weddings, funerals, romance and just general badassery and kickassery happening. Shannon clearly put so much time and effort into this book and it shows. That kind of dedication that shows is something that I really appreciate in a book, especially a fantasy book. Another aspect that I loved so so much is the diversity in this book. It came so naturally and didn’t at all feel like tokenism. The characters, with their differing genders, ethnicities, sexualities, ages, and nationalities etc, and their relationships with each other are truly what made the story. This book also has one of the BEST f/f romances I’ve ever read (as a queer woman I really loved that representation so much and felt very connected to both of those characters). Priory is a long one but if you have the time I highly recommend it.

Synopsis: “ A world divided. A queendom without an heir. An ancient enemy awakens.

The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction – but assassins are getting closer to her door.

Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic.

Across the dark sea, Tané has trained to be a dragonrider since she was a child, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel.

Meanwhile, the divided East and West refuse to parley, and forces of chaos are rising from their sleep. “

4) Truthwitch by Susan Dennard

As a queer woman, I’m always a little on edge when someone mentions f/f friendship in a book. This is entirely because of the erasure many many f/f romances experience when they are just brushed off as friendships (we’ve all heard the term “gal pals”). It’s frustrating and even though I love a good f/f friendship when the f/f romances get erased and replaced by friendships it gets exhausting. However, Truthwitch is a true f/f friendship that I can fully get behind! Dennard is an author that I had been following for writing tips for a while before I finally picked up her book. I knew that she’s someone who is invested in making her series diverse, even if she herself doesn’t fit into those categories, and accepts criticism because she want’s to do her characters justice. That’s something I really appreciate seeing from white cishet authors and is one of the reasons I picked up Truthwitch. It’s so much fun and the heart of the story truly is the relationship between the two leads Safi and Iseult. Their friendship reminds me a lot of my relationship with my friends. Books about f/f relationships (romantic or otherwise) are few and far between so I really love that this book exists. Strong platonic relationships are so often pushed aside for cishet romantic ones so it’s SO refreshing to see a series where the book would not exist without Safi and Iseult’s bond. They are truly soulmates and their relationship with each other is the most important one in their lives and that is just beautiful. Not to mention this book has got an awesome magic system and is building up to an amazing fantasy series! There’s pirates, priestesses, princes and, of course, witches! It’s loads of fun all around!

Synopsis: “ Young witches Safiya and Iseult have a habit of finding trouble. After clashing with a powerful Guildmaster and his ruthless Bloodwitch bodyguard, the friends are forced to flee their home.

Safi must avoid capture at all costs as she's a rare Truthwitch, able to discern truth from lies. Many would kill for her magic, so Safi must keep it hidden - lest she be used in the struggle between empires. And Iseult's true powers are hidden even from herself.

In a chance encounter at Court, Safi meets Prince Merik and makes him a reluctant ally. However, his help may not slow down the Bloodwitch now hot on the girls' heels. All Safi and Iseult want is their freedom, but danger lies ahead. With war coming, treaties breaking and a magical contagion sweeping the land, the friends will have to fight emperors and mercenaries alike. For some will stop at nothing to get their hands on a Truthwitch. “

5) Monstress by Marjorie Liu (Writer) and Sana Takeda (Illustrator) 

Another disclaimer! This book is my favorite graphic novel, period. There is really nothing like Monstress out there and I think that it’s criminally underrated. Liu and Takeda are the perfect combo of writer/artist to make this GN come together. I’m constantly in awe of the world, characters, and story Liu built and the frankly stunning art Takeda creates to go along with it. It’s steampunk and dark and dirty and beautiful. The lead character, Maika, is one of the few truly morally gray characters that I’ve read. Her decisions will make you question if you’re a good person because you still love her despite the fact that she just killed that guy... and that guy... and those other guys. This graphic novel series is very reflective of the dark animes (like Tokyo Ghoul and Castlevania) that we are seeing more recently and I personally believe Monstress would make a fantastic animated series if it were ever to get an adaption. This book has also some great representation of queer women (Maika herself is a queer, disabled, WoC). It’s totally the norm for the world and all of the lead female characters are queer, which I just love. This story has amazing woldbulding, magic, characters etc. It’ll give you everything from giant dead gods, to talking cats with multiple tails, to demonically possessed teenage girls who need to eat people. It’s honestly amazing. (I would give a major trigger warning for blood/gore so as long as you know you can handle that I think you should check it out!)

Synopsis: “ Set in an alternate matriarchal 1900's Asia, in a richly imagined world of art deco-inflected steam punk, MONSTRESS tells the story of a teenage girl who is struggling to survive the trauma of war, and who shares a mysterious psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, a connection that will transform them both and make them the target of both human and otherworldly powers. “

6) The Bridge Kingdom by Danielle L. Jensen

I never thought I would love a cishet romance as much as I love this one but here I am. The Bridge Kingdom is not really the kind of book I would normally pick up but it was on sale on kindle so I thought “why not!” And I was not disappointed. This story follows the assassin princess, Lara, who was raised to be married off to her fathers rival kingdom and kill the king. However, things get sticky when she begins to actually fall for the king and starts to realize that her father isn’t exactly who he says he is. Not only was this romance steamy as hell (this is an ADULT book folks so there are some explicit sex scenes, beware) but the world is super cool. The political intrigue was something I really enjoyed and I loved to see the world unfold from Lara’s eyes. I also totally loved Lara’s character. She’s complicated and cutthroat but ultimately want’s to do what’s right and is a character made to change and develop. I usually don’t go for that character trope that Lara fits into (beautiful and badass and despite being the MCs they somehow end up being very bland...) but Jensen managed to create a very mature and ever changing version of the YA trope that I ended up loving completely. If you love steamy fantasy romances with cool worlds and intriguing characters this is absolutely the book for you!

Synopsis: “ Lara has only one thought for her husband on their wedding day: I will bring your kingdom to its knees. A princess trained from childhood to be a lethal spy, Lara knows that the Bridge Kingdom represents both legendary evil - and legendary promise. The only route through a storm-ravaged world, the Bridge Kingdom controls all trade and travel between lands, allowing its ruler to enrich himself and deprive his enemies, including Lara's homeland. So when she is sent as a bride under the guise of fulfilling a treaty of peace, Lara is prepared to do whatever it takes to fracture the defenses of the impenetrable Bridge Kingdom.

But as she infiltrates her new home - a lush paradise surrounded by tempest seas - and comes to know her new husband, Aren, Lara begins to question where the true evil resides. Around her, she sees a kingdom fighting for survival, and in Aren, a man fiercely protective of his people. As her mission drives her to deeper understanding of the fight to possess the bridge, Lara finds the simmering attraction between her and Aren impossible to ignore. Her goal nearly within reach, Lara will have to decide her own fate: Will she be the destroyer of a king or the savior of her people? “