#(remember when they made us write programs with pen and paper without access to a debugger for like a year straight?)

[ayakashibackstreet]

Hmm, maybe I'll work on the reg page now... we'll get a basic layout down and then I'll work on the logic, then I'll actually code the whole reg system

[jeanstoppable]

20th & 21st OF OCTOBER

~change the channel~ (substitute)

~island in the sun~

(A/N: I cannot, for the life of me, make these prompts shorter. But anyways, here’s some more of my Cyberpunk oc and a bit of world building)

WARNING: Mentions of Drug Use/Dark themes

The door shut with a soft click, the metal barrier cancelling out the harsh and turbulent noise of the downpour outside, as a clear ping pierced the silence of the room, signalling the automatic lock being completed.

I tossed the drenched sling bag somewhere on the floor, hearing it land but not bothering to check where, and started peeling the equally wet jacket off my torso, leaving me in a sleeveless black top.

I should take a shower first. I thought. But my legs didn��t move towards the bathroom to my far right, instead my eyes were fixated on the desk beside my bed, and then gradually brought them up on the old painting displayed right above it.

Later. This can’t wait. Heart and mind decided, I shuffled over to the desk in a sense of urgency, grabbed the painting by its sides and then plucked it from the hook. Flipping the frame around, a black plate covered the back of the canvas. With familiar ease, I slid my fingers across the upper corner edges and found the latch, successfully unfastening the plate to unveil a couple of worn-out journals hidden inside. Untouched.

A breath of relief escaped me, my fear of the notebooks being discovered momentarily disappearing.

I picked out the one I’ve been using as of late—the tenth one if I recall correctly, since I’ve already used up every bit of space from the others—and opened the journal where it had a bookmark.

The yellowed blank pages were a frequent sight as I ran a hand across the smooth surface while my other hand pulled a pen from a cup that was also holding a heap of markers and then started writing my thoughts—

It was a common enough phrase.

“CHANGE THE CHANNEL”

It doesn’t pique interest, at least to...someone like me, so it shouldn’t raise any suspicions, right?

I hovered the nib of the pen slightly above the paper, thinking if I should continue to write about the news we’ve received today. It was shocking enough that I even had to pinch myself a couple of times to see if I was dreaming or not because the news wasn’t just good nor great---it was the best fucking thing I’ve heard in years and it also just happens to be the one we’ve all been waiting for.

Setting down the pen, I reached for the hidden compartment again, took the very first journal I owned and then absently flipped through the filled pages, the crisp, crinkling sounds tenderly jogging my memory.

I stopped at the beginning of the notebook, a reminiscing smile graced my lips as I traced the old ink with the tip of a finger.

Don’t let anyone steal this.

I snorted, of course, this was written on the day I got my ass beat and left without so much of a coin in my pocket—thus, I was forced to resort to stealing. Strangely enough, this journal was the first thing I stole and to this day, I can’t seem to remember the reason why but I do remember how awful the act made me feel, the feeling lasted for days.

Nonetheless, those feelings subsided after getting accustomed to this lifestyle. Crime practically lived and breathed under my skin, these hands and feet of mine becoming my very own accomplices.

I closed my eyes as the usual barrage of emotions washed over me: disappointment, disgust, anger, hate—so much hate and all of it was directed at the only person I can blame at the moment.

Well to be fair, not once did I deny the indisputable fact that I hated how my life turned out, how everything turned out considering that there’s no one even left to impress, no one to see me pretend as if I wasn’t so horribly broken-down on the inside.

I hated how I was still here, anchored by some self-righteous bullshit I’d placed like a burden on my shoulders that one miserable night, a burden that still stubbornly carries the promise of changing the lives of so many other people.

My gaze landed on the scribbled date at the top of the page.

It’s been 6 years since the incident.

I breathed out my nose unevenly and closed the book with a snap, pushing it aside as I returned to the previous journal and picked up the pen to finish today’s log.

It’s happening.. It’s finally happening.

Today marks the fucking day of something revolutionary as we received reports, genuine physical reports, of a planned coup in all of five districts. And I know there had been a lot of them in the past and those who participated lost their lives after being executed on the spot… However, this time around, my gut tells me otherwise.

I think I mentioned this in my previous logs; it’s about the power balance shifting. It began to tip since last year and it hasn’t stopped till now. I fiercely believe that the power will eventually find its way back to us, as it rightfully should.

This was a long time coming after all. Years and years of effort had been put in just to dethrone those who forcefully robbed us of our lives and not just that---Our identities.. Our Family and friends. The voice itself of the public.

Letting out a tortured laugh, I wrote the end of the log:

CHANGE THE CHANNEL

Simple, dismissive and yet it holds the power of treason. It speaks the word of rebellion. I’m not afraid anymore because this phrase will take us one step closer to freedom.

. . .

“...Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Positive.”

I cast my partner a skeptical glance.

“...I’m 80% sure.” He nervously admitted, purposely avoiding my prodding eyes.

A huff of disbelief slipped past my lips as I demanded from him, “What did the message say anyway?”

“It was a recorded message programmed inside a toy, it only said the time and the address before self-destructing. But like I said, I don’t think I got any of the information wrong.”

“Maybe you misheard or missed something because this—”

I swallowed the sentence and did another scan of the building in front of us, our position from an empty terrace across the street granting us to overlook the supposed meeting place, the rendezvous as it turns out was a grand and luxurious night club.

It seemed that access was only given to those in the upper class but since it was fairly new and as far as rumors go, I heard it has an eccentricity to it, so the club wasn’t bustling like the other similar establishments scattered in the district. Still, entry to the venue remains as a privilege only to those who can afford to waste money, in this economy.

I eyed the flashy neon sign just above the main doors with slight distaste and a growing curiosity.

Island in the Sun

The name certainly snatches attention.

After seeing a bunch of people dressed in stylish clothes walk out, I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling a tiny bit insecure about what I’m wearing.

Hell, nothing about my attire was fancy by any means so I shot my partner another worried glance, “Do we really have no further means of communication with them? Do we really have to enter through the front? Can’t we just, you know, sneak inside a window? I mean, we don’t—we’re not—”

I gestured to his clothes and then mine, “We’ll stick out like sore fucking thumbs.”

“You do make a sound point.” He murmured and then lowered his goggles to finally address me, his grey orbs illuminated by the numerous bright neon signs, “I never expected our sponsor to be this...shameless? They’re practically waving their wealth in our faces, makes me wanna take a swipe at them.”

“Arman,” I quietly sighed, “What are we getting ourselves into?”

Is this what having cold feet feels like?

My partner surveyed me for a instant before having the nerve to roll his eyes, “Just treat this as one of our regular heists, Sonya. Aren’t you the least excited to experience what it’s like partying with the upper class?”

I stayed silent, not bothering to tell him that I did have prior experience, and just rubbed my temples, a headache forming at the prospect of how tonight will go.

“Time for a channel change.” My partner winked, his wise words partnered with the small gesture cracked my lips into a smile.

He then put a hand under his chin, thinking carefully as he relayed more of his thoughts, “And maybe get laid by the end of the night.” This time, I was the one to roll my eyes and got a glower from him in exchange.

“You could use it as well… When’s the last time you—”

“Shut the fuck up, Arman.” I tried snapping back but it turned into a laugh instead.

He only grinned toothily, looking guilty but proud, “Less nervous?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wait.” He said all of a sudden.

I raised a brow in question, my hands already gripping onto the rails, poised to scale down at any moment.

“Clothes.” Arman waved a hand and I grimaced.

“Ah yeah, right.”

A terse silence passed before we both launched smirks at each other, the same heinous idea forming in our minds as he pointed towards a closed clothing shop a few blocks away.

“What say you for one more heist this evening? It won’t be as grandiose as the previous ones, I’m afraid.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

. . .

Your ass looks nice in that.

Yeah? I’m taking this one then.

...Well?

Your ass always looks great, Arman.

So you’re saying mine looks better? Thanks.

Wear a skirt and then we’ll talk.

Oh, Sonya, just watch and learn.

. . .

I leaned against a street light, scrutinising our target club while waiting for my partner to finish finding the ‘perfect outfit’ as he called it, his words not mine. In the end, I settled for a wine coloured fitted dress with a criss-cross pattern exposing my back, a black corset on top, a semi transparent blazer for my shoulders, and then I picked out simple knee length combat boots—in case the deal goes awry and we had to flee.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I peeked over and my jaw dropped as soon as I laid eyes on Arman.

He was wearing a skin tight turtleneck black dress, showing off his lean but toned figure, a beautiful velvet burgundy blazer that looked amazing on his broad shoulders and then his shoes were thick polished combat boots, almost same as mine, the only difference was his heels were an inch higher, making him look taller than he normally is.

I whistled in pure awe, “Damn, Island in the Sun is about to get a whole lot hotter.”

A smug expression graced his handsome features when he walked past me, swaying his ass deliberately, “Told you so,”

I huffed at his haughty but rightfully placed attitude and caught up to him, looping an arm around his, “Well, won’t you tell me—am I your designated arm candy or are you mine?”

“Why can’t we just be both?”

We toned down the volume of our conversation when we neared the establishment, Arman breaking off as he walked up to the main entrance. It was as we expected, one of the large bouncers blocked him immediately and then pointed to the side towards the long line of people waiting for their own turn.

Arman straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms, “We have an appointment with your employer.”

The bouncer examined my partner from head to toe, not looking the least convinced although the second after, he pressed a button on his collar, “Can you direct me to the boss’ line?”

“Hey!” A voice shouted off to the side where the line was, “Wait in line like the rest of—”

I whirled on whoever was speaking and gave them my most vicious glare, that person stopped in the middle of their sentence and then promptly averted their eyes. I scoffed at them.

“Boss, there’s two individuals here that say they have an appointment with you.” The bouncer said, nodding while listening to his receiver and then finally turned back to Arman, “I apologise but the boss doesn’t have any more appointments for tonight.”

Arman took this information calmly and then leaned in, a hand covering his lips as he whispered something to the bouncer, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.

The bouncer’s eyes widened, stared at Arnan and me before ultimately stepping aside, handing us two glowing yellow bracelets, “I’m sorry for the delay, the boss is expecting you.”

My partner brightened and accepted the bracelets, holding me by my wrist as he ushered us past the main entrance. Still confused about the whole ordeal, I reluctantly put on the accessory without saying a word, the bracelet giving a weird sting when it made contact with my skin, and then followed Arman inside.

“What was that?” I asked the moment we’re left alone.

“Did you forget why we’re here?” He quipped back cheerfully and the realisation struck me later than I would have liked.

“...What do you think this is for?” I changed the subject to both our glowing bracelets, raising mine to my eye level just to get a good look at it.

“I don’t know. Gimmicks?” Arman absently rubbed his, faintly knotting his eyebrows and then started inspecting the empty hallway we were walking through, “For a club named Island in the Sun, it doesn’t seem very hot.”

We reached the end of the hallway and the doors opened upon sensing us, revealing another set of corridors, three to be exact that split into different directions: There was muffled music coming from our right, while there’s really faint sounds of people chattering to the left, and then nothing from the one ahead of us.

I took a step towards the middle corridor, figuring it was where we needed to go but Arman blocked an arm in my way, “Don’t you want to check out the other rooms? We might as well explore before we get kicked out after our appointment.”

My expression definitely disapproved of the idea and he could see that, although I think I might’ve surprised him when I agreed to his request, “No more than five minutes.”

His grey orbs gleamed with excitement, “I’ll go this way,” he pointed to the right, “Take the left.” With that said, Arman pivoted and headed for the direction with the music, and I walked towards the left corridor.

The doors were glass so I’d seen what was inside while waiting for them to open.

I scrunched my brows in bewilderment at what awaited me. The room was massive so to say and furthermore, it has a second floor filled with—What were those? There were these weird opaque bubbles that had a hatch on the front with a keypad beside it and almost all of them were lit, vague silhouettes of people moving to and fro inside but nothing more than that.

My eyes landed on the pit with a glass dome in the centre, a couple of people were lounging on long circular couches whilst socialising with each other. I was so focused on the bizarre scene that I didn’t notice the doors sliding open and the cyborg standing off to the side, making me almost jump when it had announced itself.

WELCOME. WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

“I---uh, what...does that mean exactly?” I awkwardly rubbed my nape, feeling the need to occupy my shaking hands as I peered up at the cyborg.

WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DEMONSTRATE HOW OUR ISLANDS WORK?

I simply nodded and the cyborg’s eyes immediately flashed bright, projecting a hologram into the empty space between us, leaving me to watch in wonder as a 3D model of one of the bubbles appeared.

ESSENTIALLY, OUR SPHERICAL ISLANDS ARE DESIGNED TO SERVE AS ADVANCED PRIVATE SUITS FOR SPECIAL CUSTOMERS. ITS CURVED WALLS ARE BUILT-IN WITH HIGH POWERED LED SCREENS THAT LETS YOU PROJECT ANY KIND OF SCENERY YOU’D PREFER AND IT’S ALSO COMPLETE WITH FURNITURE THAT CAN SATISFY TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOUR NEEDS.

The holograms changed and now it showed one of those glowing bracelets.

WHILE YOU’RE INSIDE THE CLUB, WE WILL ALSO EXCLUSIVELY PROVIDE YOU WITH OUR CLUB’S HOTTEST PRODUCT TO MAKE YOUR NIGHT BETTER AND MORE ENJOYABLE.

I frowned, asking warily, “Product?”

I’M PROHIBITED TO EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER DETAILS OF THE PRODUCT. HOWEVER, YOU CAN FIND OUT FOR YOURSELF THROUGH ONE OF OUR ISLANDS, THE PIT, OR IN THE PARTY ROOM.

Something cold settled in my stomach, “The party room...it’s the room opposite this one , right?”

CORRECT. NOW, THAT YOU ARE AWARE OF OUR CLUB’S COMMODITIES, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

I shook my head, about to refuse the offer when a question crossed my mind, “...How much is one island?”

The cyborg turned off the projection and turned its gaze downwards, scanning my bracelet through its lens.

NO PAYMENT NEEDED FOR VIP CUSTOMERS.

“VIP...?” My throat dried up as I covered the bracelet on my wrist with a hand, “I...won’t be taking an island, thank you.” The cyborg merely bowed and then went back to its corner, waiting for someone new to serve.

“Shit, I have a bad feeling about this.” I said to myself, returning to the intersection from before and making my way towards the party room.

The moment the doors slid open, the music hit me and my eardrums in full blast. I winced at the intensity of it and more so at the large crowd dancing and grooving to the loud beat. It was difficult to even hear my own voice. I internally groaned, how am I supposed to find him at this rate?

Keeping my eyes sharp despite it being extremely dark and the occasional blinding strobe lights, I moved through the mob of people pressed against one another, awkwardly bumping into some people dancing and then sometimes getting pushed back. I bit my lip, refraining from picking a fight as I held on to my rapidly waning patience.

All of a sudden, someone slapped a hand to my ass and the leash briefly snapped—I quickly rounded on that person, a fist almost flying out when I saw that the hand belonged to a man a couple of inches shorter than me with a greasy sneer on his face.

“Do that again...” I fisted his shirt and followed with a violent promise, “And you’ll go home left-handed.” I threatened, my voice brimming with spite.

Once I saw the frightened understanding in his eyes, I released him and turned away. “Arman, you better show yourself right now.” I growled.

Finally, I spotted a familiar burgundy jacket behind a pillar and I set my sights on it, carelessly pushing my way through, ignoring the curses and rude remarks of the people I shoved because I have had enough of this.

I shouldn’t have to search for him.

As I got closer to the pillar, I only noticed then that he was making out with someone. Oh you’re dead. My fingers shot out to grab the shoulder of the man I’ve been searching for, ready to cuss at him till his ears fall off.

“Oi! What the fuck happened to five minutes?!”

I halted as I met face to face with a stranger, and not at all my partner, “A-ah, I’m sorry I thought you were—“ My eyes flicked towards the person standing beside them.

“Arman!” I shouted, obviously relieved to see him alright but then remembered I was still pissed off, “What the hell? I was looking all over for you!”

His eyebrows creased for a moment before a loopy smile graced his lips, “Sonya! I’m sorry, I got a bit distracted…” Arman’s gaze trailed off to the side but at the same time, he gripped the waist of the man he kissed earlier closer to his body.

I gawked at him. Honestly speechless. But then I lashed out a hand to circle around his wrist, the one with that damned bracelet, and discovered that the yellow glow was at half now.

This was their exclusive product.

I fumed as I took out a spare light from the pocket of my blazer and yanked his head down to my level, “Let me see your fucking eyes.”

I shined the light on them and noticed how bloodshot they were, his pupils were unusually blown wide. I cursed again, letting out my frustrations, “Arman, you’re blazed!”

“What?! No, no, no. I-I haven’t taken any.” He stumbled over his words, making me doubt him even more.

“Excuse me.” A new voice piped in.

I flipped my attention to Arman’s...date? Lover? Who the hell cares, I completely forgot he was even there, “Aren’t you being a bit rude? Who are you anyways?” The man asked snobbishly while squinting at me.

I glared back, a dangerous smile framing my painted lips, “I’m his girlfriend. Who are you?”

“Sonya!” Arman yelled in disbelief.

The man mouth hung open and then tried explaining himself, “I-I’m—“

I held up a finger, “You know what, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Locking an arm around Arman’s, I pulled him away from the man and roughly dragged him across the dance floor and towards the exit.

Once we got back to the main hallway, I let him go and stared him down with my arms placed on my hips, “What was that, Arman?” I gritted out, trying to be as calm as I can without blowing a fuse.

“Give me a minute.” He panted, “It’s so damn hot, ugh.”

“What are you saying, you’ve only been in there for less than twenty minutes.” I looked at him confused but then clearly saw the heavy perspiration forming on his skin, “Hey...you’re sweating really bad.”

“I’m sorry, Sonya.” He apologised, breathing large gulps of air while leaning on the wall, “I’m sorry you had to cover for me back there.”

My gaze softened as I stood beside him, “It’s nothing…”

“I know I really screwed up for not being careful, but I swear—Sonya, I swear I didn’t take any drugs.” Arman gripped my arms, looking me wildly in the eyes.

“Don’t worry..I believe you.” I assured him, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “It might’ve been that stuck-up date of yours, did you notice him touch your bracelet while you were together?”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, a deeply disturbed expression slowly contorted his features, “Yeah...Yeah, he did.”

I let out a rough exhale, controlling the rage that sweeped me off, now twice as strong, “If I ever see that fucker—“

A hand on my shoulder pulled my attention back as I faced Arman, letting him see the murderous expression on my features.

“The appointment.” He reminded me softly.

“...Right…right. Are you sure you’re okay now?”

He pushed off the wall and gave me a tiny smile that broke my heart.

“...You know, you’re giving Tilly a run for her money—I mean, showing up to a sponsor’s meeting high? Not even she has the balls to do that.”

Arman chuckled, a dark look passing his expression as he bitterly said, “I bet that they’re expecting us to attend already intoxicated.”

I hummed in agreement, “So, our first sponsor’s a drug enthusiast, huh?”

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

TBC

(A/N: I WAS SUPPOSED TO INCLUDE MEETING THE BOSS BUT ITS TOO LONG wowowow, these prompts are now integrated into my story, I swear I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this—but ANYWAYS. I’m kinda living for this unhinged oc of mine, and this duo?? I had so much fun writing about theit dynamic. However sad to say, this will be the last of them for now... as it goes, i must move on to other ignored ocs PEACEEE)

[antivirusprogram2020]

I am an antivirus program (2020)

> CHAPTER 2 The new human type cannot be properly understood without an awareness of what he is continuously exposed to from the world - Theodor Adorno. Minima Moralia, 1951 We can not change the medium as the medium is predicated on the message (use my square space code for a 10% discount)- we are fixed in this web 2.0 and the control of knowledge will be met with the streamlining of UI and UX design. Design tools like the adobe programs will continue to increase their premium and their monopoly hold on the design space - to be a designer is to be implicated with this process, regardless if you pirate software or notThis is where I raise flags against the tepid conglomeration of blog sites and web in general, the astroturfing of the internet has only amplified the feedback of Graphic Design. You’d typically call this commercial design. Commercial design fits the criteria of an evolving media world, “It is important to note that this ultimate stage of pictorialization was a reversal of pattern. The world of body and mind...was not photographical at all, but anonvisual set of relations”1. Commercial Design started to drive an efficiency science behind it’s aesthetic - you make the access mode immediate and your engagement success is far higher, and you do this through the pictogram, and when photography came about, that too was made into a design appendage. “To understand the medium of the photograph is quite impossible, then, without grasping its relations to other media, both old and new. For media, as extensions of our physical and nervous systems, constitute a world of biochemical interactions that must ever seek new equilibrium as new extensions occur.”1 This is potentially a valuable understanding of media, and thus design, presented by media theorist Marshall Mcluhan, commercial design (and all art and design in a sense) are schizophrenic presentations of the world, they accumulate meanings outside the presented scope of an advertisement, or typography - they link the relational experience of the mass media consumer, as Mcluhan states. However, this is not all, he states an ‘equilibrium as new extensions occur’ - in my context now this weighs with a great importance, we know the new extensions already, something that Mcluhan unfortunately didn’t get to experience fully, and that’s the web, the modern computer, the pocket mobile device. These are in their own rights mediums, your OS (operating system) is a computer language medium that dictates other program mediums, the access mode to the rest of the systems of design, websites contain live feeds and streams to distant realities, it’s all so lucid but at the same time it feels like an astral projection. At times this can feel nauseating, that collapsing feeling of ‘space’ and ‘time’. This presents a wider problem with modern design, technology has embedded itself into the core of the practice since the dawn of paper and pen, stone and chisel etc. The problem being that while technology has stopped gapped connectivity, it refuses to go further - refuses to return the creativity of a design practice unless commandeered. This has led to the necessity for the designer to code, and script, to kit bend and utilise AI - once again “fragmenting” the work role. “Under conditions of electric circuitry, all the fragmented job patterns tend to blend once more into involving and demanding roles or forms of work that more and more resemble teaching, learning, and “human” service, in the older sense of dedicated loyalty.” Graphic design namely has done well to adapt and reshape, showing its versatility in the age of digital design. Not only that, it hybridizes aesthetic models much like a fashion season generates new styles, which keeps design itself fresh and alive, while sometimes slipping into the contrived and over-saturated. But is the “human” service really what Graphic Design is becoming? It certainly hints to this with the proactive design studio model. Interaction and Bureaucracy, it’s an efficiency tactic. All design requires hierarchy even if that hierarchy is to not have one. I see the office space, I remember the spider plant, I see the shore line, I see the whitecaps. The workers space is a micro-territorial space of capital politics and a grab for faux socialism in most cases, in some, it is an honest attempt to form comradery - the cafeteria is an effective grounds to reinforce or detourne this thinking. People like artist Olafur Eliasson effectively install a commons space for the studio team to interact and communicate, job roles are made equal in that space. “The studio, as much as we don’t like it, means working in your own little departments, compartmentalised. And there are hierarchies even though everyone’s a part of the democracy. The kitchen is a nice leveller.” It’s a universal ideology that falls into a majority of Eliasson’s work that provides an effective future-proof for how the operations of studio practice should be carried out (see the Auteur myth). My cynicism is only symptomatic of the consumerist prerequisite that allows design to exist in the first place - a degree in the topic definitely is met with a careerist sentiment, to be financially viable within a milieu of art and design subjects. Graphic Design should not try to divorce itself from this grouping, it stands stronger with the complex wovings and multitudes that allow it to bloom as an individual practice that arranges the practice of others. The efforts here are a concern with the design practice no less, and how ethics and politics are sequestered by a shifting responsibility of effects, how and why Graphic design mutated into the corporate virus that it is now. ”All media work us over completely.”8 This is Mcluhan’s sentiment from his writings in the 60’s, and It stands up true to this day, more so than ever. Algoration (the use of data algorithms to curate a web feed) are notorious and globally implemented into most ‘social media’, but outside social media, it’s used as predictive data. This is the “reversal pattern”, Graphic Design puts a face to this slippery coded underbelly. The automation of design media has become an efficient business strategy to overmine its user base data, and subsequently requires illustration. To be concise, the study of the Graphic Designer is in part the study of Media, the study of media is the lens of relational activities and connectivity. And this is the permitted virus. Adversely, the antivirus program is a research protocol invested in studying the autonomy available to a Graphic Designer, and an extended hand to all fragmented sectors that require a similar reclamation. Language dictates media – media manufactures consent, therefore language manufactures consent. A small quibble no less, that the Graphic Designer goes to bed with media every day. And in the morning they arise with vast spawns of editorials, emailing lists, content posts - lots of fucking content posts by content creatures. The homogeneous sprawl of media is a compounded expository of new design conditions. “Today, the mass audience can be used as a creative, participating force. It is, instead, merely given packages of passive entertainment.”8 The passive entertainment is reflexive of its audience, an audience that is content on not being challenged when engaging and consuming media, not being challenged when creating and releasing it - the language logic is a false preposition - things don’t have to occur in the forefront of our percepts, media can be a stealth operation for critical theory or a dog whistle for nazis. Even a glass of milk is steeped in meaning. “The photograph is just as useful for collective, as for individual, postures and gestures, whereas written and printed language is biased toward the private and individual(s) posture.”1 Mcluhan and designer Rapheal Roake seem to fit perfectly in collusion with one another here, “All design is a political act”, this fits Mcluhan’s collective principle for the photograph precisely, as this explicitly gives backing to the relational dynamics of media itself, it sits in the collective sphere - the global village. It all begins to feel like a fever dream, the spectres of Helvetica, Comic sans and Papyrus jumping on your chest as you’re paralysed in a waking dream. Blink and you’ll miss the horses head 144hz refresh rate. The grid settings of your life are closing in tighter and tighter as you cant kern in a moment for peace, please adobe I’m plugged in to your creative cloud let me use my kettle already, yes dear, they’re wacom tablet plates, we threw out the cutlery and replaced them for tote bags and ironic panel hats. The decoherence of the 21st century is here and it’s got anthropocene smeared all over its lips. Everyone wants to fuck their OLED displays, the screen is constantly flirting with me, it bulges and writhes along with it’s circuitry like an obscene Cronenburg slide show, and with a tilt of the hinge, it rips my hands straight off the bone. It’s simultaneously psychosexual and completely meaningless, but there doesn’t seem to be any Big Other alternative, can you see the demons wearing the guise of post-modernity, and where they emit a solar flare? Just tryna game the system can’t you see, if I shake it at just the right moment, at the right angle, I’ll get an additional diet coke. You don’t understand how fucking much I like diet coke. A man who finds himself among others drinking diet coke is irritated because he does not know why he is not one of the others drinking diet coke. I have graphic design Stockholm syndrome, what do you mean you don’t know who Gerrit Noordzij is? At this point going outside will trigger my flight or fight response, I’m afraid of being swooped by seagulls while I’m bound on a rock, I sleep in a bed with a faraday blanket, I’m absolutely glowing, washed in sunlight. “As for the anticipation of reality by images, the precession of images and media in relation to events, such that the connection between cause and effect becomes scrambled and it becomes impossible to tell which is the effect of the other” These collective postures translate into all modern media and are littered with effects. One is singular and rhizomatic in any given instance of engagement towards media and the invisible hand of the ‘designer’. And on the contrary the medium is an assemblage of arborescence and is later politicised in the factory line assembly - a by-product of ‘essential’ capital labor. The capital fiction is overwritten by the post-market mythos of a company and it’s figureheads, it’s in-house publishing team use individual members to feature in nice magazines. Effects, we are overcome by so many different effects daily, to the extent that we become desensitized to the potential the subsequent causes and effects, modern reality makes sure to compound these consequences of media to a sensory overload of hysteria, the neurotic ones take to pinterest to organise themselves. We like to order things, It gives clarity and comfort within the dysphoria and entropy of our lives, pinterest, tumblr, are.na, instagram are all negentropical solutions in an overstimulated digital environment. “Instant communication insures that all factors of the environment and of experience coexist in a state of active interplay.”8 To understand this I need to clarify that the medium, the message, the photograph and all subsets of visual and nonvisual information are communication - it goes without saying - but this establishes the politicised and astroturfed space of Graphic Design, a designer is expected to make commercially viable work to thrive, and usually this is achieved by co-opting styles to any degree appropriate to a brief. This results is the parody, the hyperstition and hyperobject - an overly ironic and self aware ventilation apparatus that keeps the gimmicks of Graphic Design alive. The overtures of a design piece can appear stark placid and regurgitated. It’s very much easy to default to a ctrl-c, ctrl-v automation process. Reinforced no less by an autodidact push of some educational institutions - more concerned with juggling design briefs than focusing their teachings on a core design system (despite their ever love for the Bauhaus - yes huni the library is open). Of course, with the new emphasis on a technology dominated world we are expected to rely and reinforce the techno-dependent designer (work smart not hard). And we are yet to catch up to this mutation in design, where design was once a phylogeny of different features that collected to assume a physical medium, centrered on type, constrained by fibres and ink and oil - these components have congealed onto the Macbook, the ergonomics of physical/digital unbound the Designer from the difficulties of a physical medium. So why do we remain in the realm of rehashing typefaces and conventional media, why are we tied down to the revolving doors of design trends - surely now than ever we have all the components, all the tools to produce new design movements, this can’t keep up “When the circuit learns your job, what are you going to do?”8

[wonderer-ru]

my soul remembers us

☾ Taehyung|reader story

↳ genre: fluff and soft angst ↳ word count: 14.004 ↳ warnings: none ↳ a/n: fun fact. i wanted to finish writing this by Taehyung’s birthday… last year. so this has been a long time coming. i love this story very much, this is my favorite concept and i hope you enjoy. please, let me know what you think. oh, and there’s a little easter egg for those who read “under the spell”. happy new year!

⍣…your generation cracked a shell of something that was beyond one’s comprehension for thousands of years. What was made to be a matter of belief, religion and mysticism, took a form of the undeniable truth. Reincarnation. Yes, in your time, reincarnation was a scientifically proven fact…⍣

moodboard

☾ reincarnation au; soulmate au

Each generation had something that they thought was impossible at the beginning of their reign, yet later it sneaked into reality with such smoothness, the discovery was welcomed almost too nonchalantly to be fair. Some thought video phones were out of a fairytale, but decades later they found themselves using those daily, without a second thought or the initial feeling of novelty. That’s how progress worked, you thought. The most farsighted people would just stop wondering and fantasizing, deciding to bring unimaginable things to their tangibility instead. Sometimes, it was scary how quickly those miracles became nothing more than mundane accessories in people’s routine lives.

You hoped it wouldn’t happen to this particular notion, because your generation cracked a shell of something that was beyond one’s comprehension for thousands of years. What was made to be a matter of belief, religion and mysticism, took a form of the undeniable truth. Reincarnation. Yes, in your time, reincarnation was a scientifically proven fact, that also helped in explaining several psychological phenomena; many of which were previously considered to be purely trauma-based. How could this become ordinary? Admittedly, the break through was still fresh in society’s minds, so you didn’t worry about its oblivion. Not yet.

Nowadays, the theurgic discovery nested right in the sweet spot: the government just started to provide financials for research, while keeping the scientific details away from the general public, therefore the concept was still too vague for the scammers to get their hands on it. Sure, mediums offered a look into previous lives long before that, but now they strived to cash on the boost that would inevitably occur, forging some science degrees along the way. The good old psychic shtick was in the past. Claiming you can talk to the dead in a dimly lit room wouldn’t roll anymore. No, people would ask you for your diploma now.

And while grifters tried to figure it out, clinics were built, special nursing courses  and programs were organized, and you were fortunate enough to get into one. Studying felt like constant research, as if you were a part of developing this new knowledge, and it felt invigorating. You were learning aspects of reincarnation right as they were uncovered, and isn’t it the best way to become a specialist on the subject? Every piece of information was cherished by everyone around you, so you couldn’t help but stock those close to your heart as well. It all became even more surreal, when you found out that your first internship would be spent under the mentoring hand of none other than the man himself. Dr. Kim Namjoon. A young genius, only a couple of years older than you, that shook the world with his findings and now, naturally, was leading as many research teams as he could handle. The rest still worked with his careful oversight. 

The growing amount of brand new possibilities and fields of research seemed overwhelming at times, yet there was one phenomenon that attracted the most attention. Confabulation. A disturbance of memory that used to be defined as the production of fabricated, distorted, or misinterpreted memories about oneself or the world, without the conscious intention to deceive. Now - dictionaries with this definition in them could be thrown away, because confabulation was currently known as “the glimpse into one’s past life”. Not really scientific yet, but, yes, those “fabricated” memories were proven to be very real memories that the soul experienced in one of its past incarnations. 

People’s confabulations ranged from subtle alterations to bizarre fabrications, and - what’s even more fascinating - those people were generally very confident about their recollections, despite contradictory evidence. That’s why the subjects didn’t bat an eye at the contact with something much more modern than their previous self would be used to. The lucky peculiarity made Dr. Kim’s research much easier and a lot less expensive. After all, it would be highly inconvenient, if the doctors had to build entire eras around their patients - probably separate hospitals for people from certain decades - just for the results to be somewhat valid. It was crucial to keep people of interest calm and undisturbed, so, fortunately, they didn’t freak out when their soul from the 1920’s suddenly woke up hundreds of years later. 

Surely, at some point, maybe half a century into the future, fruits of this work will become widely accessible - to wealthy people first, then to common folk - providing everyone with a peep into their distant adventures. Today, however, the thoughts of building any sort of business based on reincarnation were strictly put on hold, at least until Dr. Kim and his team figure out the safest way of putting a person into the state of paramnesia and, most importantly, bringing them out of it. The latter posed as a tougher task, because, at this stage of research, all existing records showed that patients could be stuck in ‘confabulation’ for, apparently, only God knows how long. From days to months, to even years. No trace of noticeable patterns or correlations. 

“We have a new patient today,” Dr. Kim stopped in front of another hospital room, and you almost bumped into him, a little too intently scrabbling away in your writing pad. Namjoon (not that you could call him by his name) always had five to seven interns following him during rounds, because “I don’t know if you’ve gathered enough information about me, but I only have two eyes and one brain. I’d rather have all that, but times five. Gross, I agree. Plus, the surgery would cost a fortune. So I dutifully ask of you, interns, the fresh blood of this place, to be my extra eyes, brains, hands. The hospital will provide you with pens and paper. Quantity of your notes could result in quality of our overall data”. Dr. Kim was well aware that he couldn’t catch every single detail by himself - especially since he was the one asking questions - so he took all the help possible, which spoke to his humble nature. The man just really wanted to move forward with his discovery. 

But, despite leading the most advanced scientific program in the world, he was quite old fashioned when it came to interacting with patients. Dr. Kim refused to install any hidden cameras in their rooms, because having interns by his side gave him several unique points of view on what his patients said and how they acted; which was priceless, unlike the equipment that would only lower his eyes sight in the end. Have you seen the quality of those videos? One-way mirrors were also unacceptable, as they would turn any conversation into interrogation, and the sheer vibe of the room could make patients feel uneasy. Not to mention the expenses that this kind of purchase would cause. Government could only help to a certain extent, and independent sponsors still found the research too risky and unreliable to invest into. 

“I was informed that this case is somewhat special. The patient correctly recalled his name, which could mean one of two things: he just, for some unknown reason, remembered his current name, or, he had the same exact name in his past life. That we won’t be able to determine with certainty until he snaps out of it, I guess.”

“Is it possible that he has kept more memories of his present life? Of course, but we’ll have to wait and see. So,” Dr. Kim took the chart from a wall pocket and looked over it. “Kim Taehyung. Twenty three years old. Male. Car accident. Has a couple of bruised ribs and, of course, a head injury. The decade his soul is currently in: 1960s,” as you might have noticed, Dr. Kim favored answering questions before they were asked, which honestly made things easier, since your preference consisted of staying quiet, observing and writing things down. “You will all be given additional files with more information about him, what his family and friends could provide. Take your notes carefully, so later you can potentially point out similarities between his past and current lifetimes.”

You nodded, along with four other interns, and followed Dr. Kim into the room, laying out some preparatory work on the blank piece of paper: his name, today’s date and the date his soul thinks it is. As you walked in and proceeded to take your usual spot in the corner of the room, your gaze brushed the patient’s figure on the bed, noticing a book in his hand. A book that, according to his perspective of time, would be written half a century later, so, basically, the man was reading a story form the future and didn’t even know it. You made a note of it, even though it wasn’t your main task. 

This late into the internship, you and your group-mates have made up a system where each intern had only a couple of aspects of the conversation to document. No one had to split their focus, and, at the end, you’d exchange notes to create the complete picture. Some had to pay close attention to patients’ nonverbal behavior, some listened to their voice and intonations. Your job was to write down the exact words that were said. That’s why you didn’t bother with getting a better place to stand, to look at the young man. Your ears would work perfectly fine from the corner. You were used to carrying this role by now, since it was pretty much the same group of interns every time, and everyone has settled into their groove. Although, maybe, you should’ve switched more often, because catching the words and writing them down became a chain of mindless, automatic operations. It didn’t matter what the conversation was about. You’d analyze everything later, when the puzzle is assembled. 

Dr. Kim went through his usual set of questions - nothing specific, yet; minimal usage of modern terminology; just general check up - but, a couple of minutes in, his voice acquired lightness that was slightly out of character, and you even heard Namjoon laugh. Huh. This guy must be very amusing. The thought left your mind as soon as it entered, and you continued to be oblivious to the patient’s velvety voice, or the way a wide boxy grin made his eyes disappear. Words, words, words. You were only concerned with words, not noticing that the room was already charmed and completely in love with Kim Taehyung. Maybe, you’ll feel the same, once you read back everything that’s been written in the past ten minutes.

However, your fluent handwriting suddenly falters when Dr. Kim is interrupted mid sentence. 

“Y/N?”

Your own name was left unfinished under the pen as your eyes widened in realization. The patient just called you, and, judging by the tone of his voice, he was pleasantly surprised. You looked up to find every gaze in the room turned in your direction. Taehyung was smiling, and, suddenly, you were very aware of him. Shouldn’t have ignored his presence before, because now it was a bit overwhelming. And there’s that flitting feeling... You’d call it a déjà vu, but it would contradict Dr. Kim’s newest theory. He thought that the concept of “déjà vu” was about alternative universes, not about past lives. According to him, déjà vu appears when you experience something that your alternative self lived through a bit earlier. As if they went through life a little faster, but in a moment of deja vu you catch up to them, hit the same point in time and space, then go your barely separate ways. Anyway...

You turned to Namjoon - who looked surprised, but also intrigued - hoping that your eyes screamed for help obviously enough. 

“I didn’t realize that they’ve brought me to your hospital,” the man seemed very excited by the encounter, so, at least, he liked you. But how the hell did he know you at all? You opened your mouth (that appeared to be rid of any moisture) to say something, but Namjoon stepped in; probably to prevent you from answering with anything that could confuse or disturb the patient. 

“Excuse me, Taehyung. Can I steal your...?” Dr. Kim paused, expecting for Taehyung to finish the sentence, and - oh boy - he did. 

“Fiancée,” the man replied happily, a somewhat prideful look adoring his features. Meanwhile, your ability to breathe was packing its bags, ready to travel. A soft gasp - that sounded a lot like ‘fiancée’ - escaped your lips, and you felt someone’s hand on your back, pushing you off the wall. When did you lean against it? Now that you decided to concentrate on it - your legs were obviously shaking. 

“Fiancée,” Dr. Kim repeated, physically pushing you out of the room, because your body didn’t seem to cooperate under the severe shock. You could vaguely - very, very... very vaguely - understand what all of it meant, but the right pieces just bounced off each other, not clicking yet. “Fascinating. We’ll be right back,” Namjoon ushered you out, hoping that Taehyung didn’t find your terrified state too suspicious. He couldn’t let this chance go to waste, because for Dr. Kim everything clicked the moment his patient called your name.

“Y/N, do you know him?” he had to make sure that in this life you were absolute strangers. Your lungs came from their brief vacation and worked with full force, as you frantically tried to remember seeing Kim Taehyung’s face before. No memory came up, and, sure, you could forget a face, but certainly not the fact that you were engaged to said face. So you shook your head, confidently enough for Dr. Kim to light up with delight and anticipation. A new discovery was on the way. 

“No, I’ve never seen him, and I am not his fiancée,” you denied the fact as if it was an outrageous accusation, when, in reality, everyone knew that the whole thing was just a trick, played on Taehyung by his own fogged mind. 

“That’s excellent!” Namjoon was practically jumping on the spot, while your confusion slowly wore off. Very slowly. 

“Excellent? Wha- why, why? Why would you-? I wouldn’t use that wo- ...Oh,” and then it hit you. “OH! It means that he knew me in his past life! Holy sh-“

“Yes, precisely! And it also means that you had the same name in your past life, which means that he probably did too!” Dr. Kim was hitting you with conclusions and calculations - rapid fire style - so your inner scientist was simply ecstatic, yet overwhelmed and a bit dizzy. “And it also means that you physically look the same as your previous self! This is unprecedented! You have to play along!” you were nodding along to everything Namjoon was saying. He was so enthusiastic and fired up, it was infectious. But wait-

“Wha- What?!” did you hear him right? “Play along as in... I have to pretend to be his fiancée?” Namjoon exhaled to calm himself down from excitement, before attempting to calm you down from panicking. His hands squeezed your shoulders, but Dr. Kim soon found that it wasn’t enough to ground you. “I have to do everything that it implies? I have to pretend... to be in love?” you whispered the word ‘love’ like it was something forbidden; like faking love is the most sinful and horrible crime to commit. 

“Y/N, my dear Y/N, please, hear me out,” Namjoon’s hands altered to cradle your face, and he looked into your eyes as if you were the only one who could help him, save him; like you were the only person that mattered right now, and if the context of his pleas was any less professional, you’d feel weak in the knees. It made sense, though. Dr. Kim was in love with scientific progress, and you were the embodiment of it in that fateful moment. “We can’t destroy his world right now, because we don’t know- ...we can’t predict what it could possibly do to his mind. It could result in a catastrophe. But, more than that, just- ...just imagine how much we can uncover. You already gave me a lot just by standing in the corner of that room. Do this too, please. It could change everything.”

“I... I am not a good actress. And I don’t know anything about him... about us in his... damn it! Our past life. What if he figures it out?” to be completely honest, you were convinced the moment Namjoon started speaking. You’ve never seen anyone so determined and committed. It truly was the work of his life. Right now, your frightened mind just scrambled for more reassurance that, you knew, he could give you. 

“It won’t matter to him. You know as well as I do that these patients don’t get suspicious about things ‘not adding up’. You just have to act like you know him and that, yes, you are a woman in love, about to marry the man of her dreams,” Dr. Kim was still pretty close, so you pealed his hands off your face, in case Taehyung came out of his room. He shouldn’t see you in a position that looks far from innocent. Was he a jealous type? Well, you were already in that mindset, might as well... Your head hit the wall with a quiet knock, and you closed your eyes, thinking things over one last time. 

“You don’t seem like the kind of student that would have a crush on their professor, so I won’t ask you to do this for me... unless,” he stretched out the sentence, narrowing eyes at you. Suspicion was real. “...you do have a... crush on me?” you snorted at that. His cluelessness was truly adorable. He obviously didn’t know or care about the proper navigation of someone’s romantic advances. And your reaction to it - as if it was such a ridiculous implication (after all, it wasn’t far fetched at all, because a lot of students did have a crush on him) - didn’t hurt the man, even though he said “ouch”. “Okay, then do it for science, Y/N, because I know you care.”

Dr. Kim lifted his hand, and you were split between rolling your eyes and squealing with joy. Here goes nothing.

“For science,” your fist bumped into his, and that sealed it. You were officially science bros with Kim Namjoon. 

...

“Were you really ready to use poor girl’s affection towards you? For your own benefit? Shame on you, Dr. Kim.”

“Uhh, not for my benefit? For science?”

...And you were officially engaged to Kim Taehyung. 

The hospital staff was immediately informed of your unusual situation, and not being the only one who had to “play along” felt somewhat relaxing. Moving forward, for Taehyung and everyone else (in Taehyung’s presence) you were just a nurse that worked exhausting shifts daily and fulfilled her duties by caring for all sorts of patients. Now you practically lived at the hospital, not only because nurses in the 60s did that, but because Dr. Kim advised you to spend as much time with your new-old fiancé as you could. 

You felt like a government spy, and Taehyung was your mission. In some ways, it was true. You were his lovely bride’s evil tween, and your task was to get close to him, because he held some important secrets. Dramatic, yet strangely accurate. His personal file - that also comprised everyone’s notes on the man - served as your desk book, and his parents’ narrative was your bedtime story. You were relieved to find that Taehyung was single, even though his current life didn’t mean a great deal at the moment. The fact that there wasn’t a romantic partner in sight eased your mind considerably. Directing “heart eyes” (even fake ones) at someone else’s lover would be guilt-inducing, surely. You just hoped that his family and friends were informed of his personal life as well as they thought. 

This noble scientific swindle was destined to start awkwardly, so you were having an out-of-body experience during every conversation with Taehyung. Lookers-on see most of the game, and you could imagine how easy it was to point out the stiffness of your posture or the rehearsed nature of your sentences. Your own tongue felt heavy and foreign as it moved in your mouth, and, at one point, Namjoon seriously considered paying for acting classes. He couldn’t have you compromising the “mission” by planting seeds of suspicion into Taehyung’s mind. Admittedly, it would be really hard - or even impossible - to do, but your behavior around the patient was just that unnatural and forced. 

By good fortune, Taehyung was completely oblivious to your struggles with communication, and, as irony would have it, played a crucial part in making the whole situation less tense. Of course, he did it without even realizing his own contributions to the success of Dr. Kim’s research. With time, you stopped dreading the interaction and your own heavy-handedness, because, when it came down to it, Taehyung was really easy and fun to be around. He had a gift of making people feel joyous, always ready to spark or endure some benignant foolishness. His ardour was infectious, and the man rarely failed in making you laugh. 

One month into the “relationship”, you could unhesitatingly confirm that Taehyung was a sweet and caring boyfriend. More than that, you were convinced that the mastermind behind the term “puppy love” was inspired by the look on Taehyung’s face whenever he zoned out, staring at his fiancée - in this case, you - and it had nothing to do with teenagers being in love. The man was quite affectionate (note: understatement of the millennium), and if, at first, his urge to be close to you was restrained by the injuries and prescribed bed rest, now - you could barely find an empty corner and write your daily report for Namjoon. You had to do it while Taehyung was asleep, which wasn’t particularly problematic, since the boy always nudged you to take a nap on his lap the next day, while he read on a bench in the garden. Taehyung tied your tiredness to night shifts, you imagined. 

Nonetheless, being his significant other was challenging in unexpected ways, so you still used Taehyung’s injuries as a protective barrier. The bruise on his bottom lip was pretty severe, so kisses were off the table, which saddened the man greatly. Plus, the complete healing was constantly postponed, because Taehyung would always cut the wound open by smiling widely at something cute you did. When an older nurse scolded the boy for making her tend to his poor lip again and again ( ...and again), Taehyung only shrugged and said that his fiancée was simply too adorable and he couldn’t help it. So. No kisses. Less smiling. Once, though, he turned his head at the right time - just as you leaned in to leave a peck on his cheek - resulting in your lips brushing the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, and it was the closest he got to lip locking with you. That little “accident” got the man so excited, he didn’t beg for kisses that week at all. 

It was much harder to deprive him of cuddles, though. Not because there were no excuses to avoid them. He had a couple of broken ribs, and it would be painful to even hug tightly. Pushing the man away, keeping him at the arm’s length turned out to be emotionally exhausting and heartbreaking, because Taehyung didn’t hesitate to regularly remind you of how much he loved all the snuggles and cuddles, and how desperately he missed feeling that sort of closeness with you. Every time you left his side, so he could rest, Taehyung pouted playfully, not willing to let go and fall asleep just yet. On more occasions than your heart would like to admit, you gave in - just a little, but it was a big victory for him - and kissed Taehyung’s forehead, not missing the way he sighed deeply and contentedly as your lips pressed to his skin. The boy’s eyes always appeared a little more dreary when you pulled away, and he never omitted a chance to hold onto your hand for a second longer, before giving you a tight smile and a quiet “goodnight, beautiful”. The image never failed to create a lump in your throat. He deserved much more affection in return, but the “you” that could give it to him was long gone. 

Your debt to him was becoming unmeasurable by the day, because, through Taehyung, you could also get a glimpse into your past life, without having to injure your head. It was a truly priceless gift, but its destiny was unknown and impossible to predict. Will Taehyung remember any of your time together after he “wakes up”? Will he remember all the love he spent? All the memories of you he shared? There was no way to tell with certainty. Most patients didn’t recall their “confabulation period” at all. They were left with completely blank pages, and no stories to fill those with. Being in a coma would probably be more entertaining and colorful. Yet, some lucky people remembered parts of different lengths. An even smaller percentage of patients - remembered everything.

You didn’t know for which outcome to hope, but you’d be okay with anything as long as Taehyung didn’t feel sad or hurt, or the wrong kind of foolish for giving away so much of himself; all to someone who failed to appreciate that fraction of time with him for what it was: a beautiful and unselfish gift of love. Sometimes you thought that it was your only chance to be loved like that... in this life.

“The 60s you” was obviously a nurse, but you kept discovering new details about her with every visit to Taehyung’s memory bank. He loved reminiscing about the most trivial things, and even the first time he saw you brush your teeth in the morning was special. That’s when Taehyung knew that you felt like home to him. Well, good for you and your notes to Dr. Kim, who was quite pleased with how detailed your reports were. He did point out that the way you wrote about Taehyung felt more... inspired - less formal and more poetic - though, it didn’t come as a surprise to you, because, with time, you became significantly more fascinated with your-past-self’s future husband... if that makes sense. 

Kim Taehyung was a pilot, which slightly correlated with his current occupation: aeronautical engineer; although, it didn’t cover solely planes in your time. He seemed to really love the sky, and it reflected in his poetry preferences. Taehyung read and recited poems about the skies the most, be it the blue and fresh early morning or the mysterious starry night that rhymed within their lines. The “hopeless romantic” side of him was utterly endearing, which is why you struggled to hide your shock when his other passion was revealed. Your-60s-self was probably aware of it, so you couldn’t really react when Taehyung confessed that he missed street fighting almost as much as flying. It was hard to imagine Taehyung expressing any sort of aggression, but that particular hobby of his just proved that everyone needed an outlet. The darkness had to go somewhere, and the man not only let it out away from you or the job, but also got some trophies (or prize money) for it. 

Later you found out that Taehyung was into a more... civil form of competing. Yes, it was still violent, but somewhat organized and restricted by a set of rules, which made the whole thing less gruesome in your mind. Taehyung was also strangely amazed at how ironic the cause of his injuries was: with duties and interests as dangerous as flying a plane and street fighting, he managed to be knocked out by a plain car crash. He talked about all of it with such ease that the very thing that should’ve pushed you away, made you distant, brought you a new appreciation for the love you once had for each other. Taehyung trusted you enough to let in on that secret, and you loved him enough to except that dangerous hobby of his. You must’ve been sure that he was worth it. 

Yet, while you cherished the love itself, your young heart still couldn’t grasp what your old soul already knew, already lived. Multiple times, it could be. What could create a bond so strong, so powerful that it surfaced through Taehyung several lifetimes later? You couldn’t find the answer with the way you’ve been approaching the mystery so far. Your mind was so completely focused on the words that came out of Taehyung’s mouth, you failed to look past them. Subliminal messages got lost between the lines, because the information for research was your priority. And, even though Dr. Kim praised your reports, there were things about Taehyung that skipped your attention. Some of them were gearing up to hit you in the face pretty soon.

It was a very busy day at the hospital. Several new patients arrived, all with signs of confabulation, but their physical injuries had to be treated first, which made all the real nurses occupied and unavailable to do Taehyung’s scheduled re-bandaging. You’ve seen it done enough times on different patients to know the drill, so you didn’t think twice before agreeing to perform the procedure on your fiancé. Come to think of it, you were never present when his bandages were changed. Every time you went to remind him or ask, he’d already done it. 

“Y/N?! What- What are you doing here?” Taehyung stuttered, wide-eyed, as you burst into his room with fresh bandages and other necessary supplies in hands. The man looked panicked, but you decided to write it off as the initial surprise. 

“I will be changing your bandages today,” you practically sang and turned to the table for preparations, missing the way your uncharacteristically cheerful mood went completely unnoticed by Taehyung... ironically. On any other day he would eagerly channel, harbor and try his gosh-darn best to increase that rare excited lilt in your voice. He’d strive to make it last as long as possible... Not today, though. 

“Are- Are you sure no one else can do it?” the man kept stumbling over his words, voice sounding painfully small, but it still wasn’t enough for you to get suspicious. 

“Why? Don’t you trust me? I’m hurt,” you feigned offense, playful to a fault, but the tease went right over Taehyung’s head, who appeared oblivious and rushed to assure you that-

“No, no. Of course, I trust you...,” the sentence faded away as if he mumbled it under his breath, to himself, and the words felt so heavy with worry and nervousness that your movements faded as well, brows furrowing in confusion. You slowly turned to look at him - really look at him - for the first time since stepping into the room. The man before you clearly couldn’t decide what to do with his body, constantly shifting on the bed, not knowing where to place his hands or how to successfully escape your gaze... or his own skin, it seemed. Eventually, Taehyung crossed his arms, protectively hugging himself. You’ve never seen him so tense. 

“Tae? Are you sure you’re alright? I’ve seen you shirtless... right?” you chuckled humorlessly, not even buying that that could be the reason for his behavior. Or could it? Why was he acting like this? Was your marriage arranged? Did you agree not to have sex before the wedding? It seemed- felt unlikely, but, before you could spiral into a full on panic mode, he answered...

“Yeah! ... Yeah, let’s just- let’s just do it,” he swallowed, reaching for the hem of his shirt with trembling fingers. You didn’t realize you held your breath until it whooshed out, all at once, at the sight of his bare torso. 

In that moment, certain, relatively ordinary for a hospital patient phrases came rushing back to you. “I miss fighting, but with the way my body aches, it feels like I still do it every day”, Taehyung would joke, and your psychoanalytic brain would only highlight the ‘i miss fighting’ part of it, because that gave you new (and quite shocking) information. Now, though, you cursed at your own ability to pay attention to all the wrong details, because it should’ve been obvious. He was in pain. 

You stepped closer, taking in all the bruises that covered his upper body. If they were fading now, what was it like before? The mere thought of it and the flashing images made you lightheaded, though they weren’t the main reason why your knees hit the floor in front of him.

“Taehyung-,“ you gasped, reaching out to touch his stomach gently. The man hissed at the sting, but you didn’t move your hand away, only willed it to be even gentler. His presence was a miracle in more ways than one now, because he shouldn’t have survived a crash that left him in so many shades of purple. Not only his soul was a traveler, but his body seemed to have gone through so much as well. 

“I didn’t want you to see this,” the man sighed and shook his head in defeat, not looking up to meet your eyes that, he imagined, were wide with horror. They were. 

You blinked away the tears, stood up and quickly moved to get the bandages. Suddenly, you wished they were made from the softest material imaginable. They weren’t, but it just meant that you and your hands had to be as careful as ever. Butterfly wings had to have nothing on your fingers. Without realizing it, you promised yourself that he wouldn’t feel a thing as you worked. 

Unfortunately, like most things, it was easier said than done, and, even though, you stepped in Taehyung’s direction with determination to soothe his aching body, your lack of experience with “real” nursing tasks was bound to ruin the plan. You weren’t sure what kind of pressure to apply or what was the best way to wrap bandages around his torso, which, combined with the overall painful nature of the procedure, only interrupted the quietness of the room with Taehyung’s grunts and hisses, always followed by his strained “it’s okay, keep going”. Your hands froze every time he made a distressed sound, but, when a number of them crossed what seemed like a hundred, you only wished to finish faster. 

The less bandages there were left - the more concentrated you became, finally finding your groove. Later, it would feel like an out of body experience. Like you’ve done this before, or, rather, your soul did, and it took the reigns in that moment, not asking for permission. You moved around Taehyung with much more swiftness, getting lost in your own repetitive movements. One roll of stretchy fabric later, you were ready to tie the final knot over his right shoulder. Taehyung moaned in pain, again, when you applied more pressure to make the knot tighter, and the next words escaped your mouth before you could think about it.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s almost done,” your soul seemed to take over you completely. The phrase slipped out so naturally, you appeared right where he was - in your shared past life. Taehyung turned to look at you; so fast, you thought you heard his neck crack. And you realized why the man was stunned, yet, strangely, you didn’t feel the urge to be surprised about it as well. This moment felt too right to ruin it with stuttering excuses. 

“What?” you asked innocently, referring to his wide eyes and the fact that his mouth was hanging open. The boy blinked a couple of times, still unmoving, but when you shrugged and moved again to check if the bandages were wrapped around him comfortably, Taehyung snapped out of it. 

“You didn’t call me that- baby in awhile,” he paused, looking down at his lap. “I missed it,” Taehyung wished you didn’t say it now; not when he felt so undeserving of it. From where you were standing, though, he deserved to be called the sweetest of names all year long.

You circled the bed to stand in front of him. When Taehyung didn’t look up, guilt radiating off of him, your fingers reached for his chin to gently brush and tilt it up. Your eyes locked with his, and you felt your soul flutter... No. You felt your soul shudder as it desperately gulped for air after being suffocated under miles and miles of water for the longest time. You guessed, it was because you looked at him with a clear, unselfish purpose for the very first time. 

“Don’t hide things like that from me again,” you said - quietly, yet firmly - right before your throat started to tighten with emotions under the intensity of his gaze. He looked back earnestly, like he couldn’t believe the sight. He couldn’t believe that he got to see you like that: brave and terrified, determined and vulnerable. So beautiful. Still, he didn’t deserve it. But he would take in every detail, until his own eyes would start to water, matching yours. After all, he was just as terrified and just as brave as you were. Just as beautiful. 

The air was charged with rawest intimacy, yet, it felt empty. Not void of emotion or meaning, no. Quite the opposite. It simply felt freeing. Like you could spread your arms and spin, and you wouldn’t bump into a bed, a table, chairs. Your wild limbs wouldn’t touch a thing. You didn’t dare move and explore this vacuum, though, because, when it came down to it, you’d much rather spend every moment of that freedom next to him. You were zoned in on each other. Cocooned in this blissful nothingness that was supposed to make you shiver, make your skin crawl, and still, you felt warm... like your souls were hugging. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough, and soon Taehyung’s hands were on your waist, guiding you closer. Your shaky knees nearly buckled, when the man buried his face in your stomach, wrapping the whole length of his arms around you and holding you tightly. A bated gasp escaped your lungs, but even your heartbeat slowed down and got quiet as soon as you realized that Taehyung was mumbling something into the material of your white coat. You could tell by the waves of warm air spreading against your belly and his lips moving to let it out. It tickled a little, but you managed to make out a couple of phrases. “I’m sorry” and “I won’t”. 

In that moment, you felt beyond any time any place. It was scary and felt so immeasurably bigger than both of you. Did Taehyung sense it as well? Did his soul? Your fingers reached for his hair, running through it, and you felt an exhale against your core - trembling with relief - like he was going crazy without your touch, and now was on the verge of insanity, because he finally felt it. You smiled, letting the tears fall freely on top of his head. Your mind wasn’t quite set on why you felt like crying for hours. Were you just deprived of such pure human contact for so long, or was your soul crying in a mix of pain and happiness at having him so close again?

“You worry about me so much as it is. I didn’t want to add to it,” Taehyung pulled away a little, his chin still attached to you, and looked up. He seemed miserable and exhausted, making you wonder if he felt this way too often lately and was just really good at hiding it. But then, from a different perspective, he looked at ease and, somehow, younger. His eyes appeared less clouded, almost crystalline, and, for what it’s worth, you were happy that Taehyung didn’t have to mask his feelings anymore. Not from you. For as long as this incarnation of him would stay here. 

“You are a miracle,” you whispered as your fingers left his hair, sliding down to cradle his face instead. This phrase belonged to multiple versions of you - to “the scientists” you, to “the 60s nurse” you, to “the fiancée” you - but, ultimately, it belonged to your soul. Taehyung’s eyes widened for a split second, giving away his surprise at your words, but then a brilliant smile spread across the man’s features. He smiled like he realized something you didn’t, you couldn’t, because he was in this relationship with you for much longer, so he studied you that much closer. Now, it seemed ridiculous that you ever felt more aware of things than him, when you only knew one thing - his condition - and Taehyung has lived years by your side.

“I missed you calling me that too,” he said teasingly and placed a quick kiss to the inner side of your wrist. You said that to him before? Wow, you really did, didn’t you? Of course. “Although, it would usually be ‘you are my miracle’, but we’ll get there again.”

Again. So he noticed the change, the setback. He felt the distance you’ve put between them. Taehyung might have been oblivious to the fact that the books he read were from another century, but he was attuned to you and your moods this whole time. Did your behavior confuse him? How did he explain it to himself? Did he suspect that something wasn’t right? Just like that, the research was on your mind again... 

And, just like that, you also realized that that research wouldn’t be your priority anymore when it came to Taehyung. Taehyung himself would become your main focus. Not only his words would concern you, not only the information he gives you to fill out reports, but his feelings, his well-being, his heart. 

You promised yourself to keep Taehyung’s heart safe, dreading the fact that he was probably right. You will get there. One day, you will want to call him yours, and that will become your downfall. 

After what could only be described as a life changing experience you felt the shift. You felt your soul move for Taehyung whenever he was near. It arched stubbornly towards his soul, kicking and screaming, like it wanted to hug its newfound lover again. You felt your heart beat faster every time he smiled at you. This relationship danced on the verge of being too real for comfort and was destined to end in a catastrophe, given the speed at which your affection for Taehyung was growing. Hell, sometimes you had to physically pinch yourself to keep from daydreaming about your shared past life. You found yourself wondering, quite frequently, if those versions of the two of you really loved each other till their dying days. Or did they divorce years later? No, that didn’t feel right. Could you Google that?

It didn’t help that Taehyung felt the shift as well. He started to initiate more physical contact without fearing your rejection, and you didn’t have it in you to push him away anymore. So you just held you breath every time his hand casually slid down your back and stayed on the small of it, all while he quietly watched you fill out fake reports at the nursing station. Eventually, seeing your frustration with the task, he’d start to rub your lower back in soothing circles, which made you relax almost instantly. It’s like he knew exactly what you needed... He knew you.

Sometimes (and it started to happen more often as the time went on), you forgot to separate your past and present lives from each other, eagerly listening to Taehyung’s stories like they were all a part your grand character ark. You saw yourself as the manifestation of all the previous incarnations, finding that you always agreed with your own views on life and love, and the world... however different those worlds may have been. 

You grew more curious with each passing day, gradually becoming fascinated not only with Taehyung, but with his version of you. You liked her. She seemed wiser then than you were now, and you wondered which path she took to become that at this age. She was impressive. A lifetime ago “you” had enough courage to change your career’s direction halfway through college, from journalism to medicine, realizing you wanted to take care of people the way you helped Taehyung through some rough fighting aftermaths. You still loved to do research and write, and the boy confessed that watching you mull over the right order of words was very calming.

At least, “the current you” was wise enough to bite her tongue and not ask Taehyung and excessive amount of questions... most of the time. Yes, he wouldn’t bet an eye and just rationalize your curiosity, coming up with an explanation on his own (you had a feeling that he often settled on “a semi-subtle check-up of his memory for a medical record”), but Namjoon gave you specific instructions that you had to follow... or try to follow. It was hard when Taehyung lit up like a Christmas tree every time you answered “fine” to his question of “how are you today, beautiful?” That’s an odd reaction, right? So you had to ask. As it turned out, a couple of years ago you and Taehyung came to a conclusion that being “fine” is way better than being “great! excellent! happy!” Why? Because every time you feel happy, inevitably, you also feel that ounce of fear that that feeling will soon end. 

“I am always a little scared when I’m with you, though,” he confessed, and you felt your heart skip a bit. That goddamn charmer! What was even more infuriating is his complete obliviousness to the fact that one of the most romantic and smooth lines just came out of his mouth. Taehyung simply kept watching you with a gentle smile on his lips, absolutely loving the way you didn’t seem to know what to do with yourself. You kept avoiding his gaze, looking everywhere, but mostly at your lap. You were blushing furiously, all the way to the tips of your ears. And you were smiling so wide, you had to bite down on your lip to suppress it. Your painfully endearing shyness seemed to have awakened a strange sense of déjà vu within him, and you heard Taehyung hum softly beside you.

“What?” you asked, finally being able to look at him directly. 

“I don’t know,” the man shrugged, reaching out to play with your hair. “Somehow, it just felt like when we first started dating.” 

A sudden gust of nostalgia for something you’ve never known, never experienced hit you in the chest, quickly spreading to engulf your whole body and making you gasp in surprise. Anemoia’s the word, right? Dr. Kim was writing a paper on it at the moment. You could definitely help him with some interesting insight now, because your entire being was lovingly placed into another time and space. Almost the way a song that played at your prom takes you back to the night, so your body is momentarily tricked into believing that you are actually there. 

Only it wasn’t a song this time, it was a person. It was Taehyung that lead you to that feeling and made it last for more than a split second. You could taste the difference on the tip of your tongue as if the air around you really shifted into something tangible and full of memories. And you remembered how it felt to simply exist back then. How it felt to be you, living in your skin in another time... And it was your second or third date, yet you could still feel the butterflies just looking at him. Faint jazz music suddenly reached your ears, and you wanted to hum a tune that you’ve never heard before. 

Was it where Taehyung’s mind went? Did you feel the right things? You couldn’t possibly be sure, but nostalgia was never this striking or lasted that long. 

“You fully intend to keep making me fall for you, don’t you?” Taehyung whispered mindlessly, as if to himself, but the implication left you more breathless then seemed possible. There was a negative amount of air in your lungs now. “Over and over again,” he was closer somehow, fingers brushing your neck without a specific intention. He was just submitting to the pull he always felt near you. The one that makes you move and touch, and watch intently. It’s when you register every drop of her eyelashes, yet you don’t seem to notice yourself leaning in. The movement is barely there, but oh wow, it’s impactful. “I have to say, I don’t mind one bit.” 

You feel his words on your lips now. They are full of breath that you lack, and it would be almost too delicious to make him share it. You had the chance to be selfish in the most acceptable and pleasant way. But... You simply wouldn’t come back from it. You would be going for seconds every chance you got. But... 

You make him fall deeper in love? This you? This present-time-you? The thought was dangerous with how flattering it was, making your heart stutter. Taehyung’s eyes were already closed and he was angling his head slightly, looking like the angel he is. Gentle, even if a little impatient. Meanwhile, you felt like a mess. Overwhelmed and very conflicted. You swallowed and shut your eyes tightly, already scowling at what you were about to do. And when did your breath come back, making your chest heave this heavily? 

“Tae?” 

“Yes?” he sounded so shaken by mere anticipation, you had to keep yourself from whining and giving in. It was just cruel how undeniable his need for you was. 

“I need to go back to work,” the broken exhale that he let out was bound to haunt your dreams. You didn’t look back as you walked away.

You couldn’t figure him out. You couldn’t “predict” him. It seemed like he instinctively dodged every romantic comedy cliche. There were countless melodramatic tropes paved for him, but he always chose to swerve and draw his own patterns. You imagined, he was always the kid that, on his way home from school, would be tempted to mark the perfect white canvas of fresh snow with his footprints - and would do it too, eventually, dragging his feet through the deep drifts - while everyone else just followed the padded path. 

Taehyung didn’t seem upset or hurt. He didn’t question your escape nor did he try to make you feel guilty about it. As if the boy refused to see that hurried exit of yours as the door being shut in his face, and, instead, saw it as your trauma of almost loosing him melting away a little more. To Taehyung, your soul needed just a little more convincing before letting him in again and trusting that nothing will happen that could put his life at risk. Not if he could help it. 

Apparently, the key point of his strategy was to remind you of how good and fun you were together, often acting like teenagers in love with total disregard for whether the time and place were appropriate. Yet, your displays of affection never crossed the line into something provocative or deprecated. True to his pure and innocent nature, Taehyung’s “moves” always looked playful and, dare you say, cute in everyone’s eyes, with your overflowing fondness towards each other making people around you go “aww”. 

And the boy would definitely be lying if he said that your flustered appearance and blushing cheeks didn’t make it that much more fun for him. 

“You should be more careful next time, Mrs. Lee,” since you were helping with Taehyung’s bandages more often and leveled up your nursing skills training on him, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to look after other patients as well. 

“I know, dear. I guess the kettle was just too heavy for me,” the old woman sighed as you wrapped her burnt wrist carefully. Mrs. Lee was a sweet lady - always put together and endlessly welcoming - but a bit too clumsy for her own good. It was her third minor injury this week. Previously, she managed to hit her toe against the bed frame and get a pretty nasty paper cut on her thumb. Ouch. Her soul thought it was 1920s, so maybe people were more careless about their health back then. 

“There you are!” Taehyung’s booming voice entered the room before the man himself burst inside, and you didn’t miss the way Mrs. Lee’s eyes lit up. She adored him. Everyone did. “Good morning, Mrs. Lee! New day - new adventure, I see. I’m glad you keep my fiancée on her toes,” Tae winked, and you heard the woman actually giggle. The power he possessed was truly boundless.

“I do what I can,” Mrs. Lee was full on beaming now - bright and happy - the pain in her wrist seemingly forgotten. You smiled to yourself too, finishing up the procedure. 

“Mornin’, beautiful,” Taehyung lowered his voice, and it took less than a second for you to start blushing. Blood rushed to your face somewhere between his breath hitting your ear and his lips briefly pressing to your temple. You were used to a lot of “Taehyung things” by this point (barely): holding Taehyung’s hand, brushing Taehyung’s hair while he slept, Taehyung’s fingers dancing across your back while you worked. Always teasing. Sometimes tickling. Like right now. Up and down. Up and down. Down. Down, down. Wait, what?

“Taehyung!” you gasped. He pinched you! He pinched your butt! 

Your hand flew to cup the “violated area” (on pure reflex) as you turned, wide-eyed, to Taehyung, who was clearly trying his best to stifle the fit of giggles. He had the audacity to look surprised by your animated reaction, like it wasn’t his intention all along. Oh, he was so amused! The boy quickly hid his hands behind his back as if trying to dispose of the evidence, but you were already on a mission to give him a piece of your mind. 

“Out!” you grabbed Taehyung’s arm and proceeded to drag him out of the room, unwilling to scold the men in front of another patient. 

“Mrs. Lee, save me!” he pleaded, not really trying to put up a fight, even though he definitely could. 

“You are on your own, young man,” the older lady just laughed and, rather entertained, waved the two of you a goodbye.

“What the hell, Taehyung?” you whisper-screamed as soon as the door closed behind him. Your “disapproving wife” mode was all the way on, and you didn’t even know it was a part of your settings in the first place. Taehyung took in your crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows, feeling strangely endeared. Let’s keep it going for a bit, he thought. “That was really inappropriate!” 

“Well, if you didn’t scream like that, she wouldn’t even notice. So, objectively, this is your fault,” he argued, mimicking your irritated posture.

“Objective- !? Don’t do this around other patients!” you hissed back, now vaguely aware of the fact that Taehyung was probably messing with you. 

“Does it mean I can do it when we are alone?” the boy not-at-all-subtly wiggled  his (gorgeous) eyebrows and stepped closer, placing his hands on your waist. 

“Well, not anytime soon. You’ve ruined it for yourself,” you were still frowning - in a desperate attempt to appear mad - but your lips were starting to angle up in a smile, treacherously so. 

“You are mean,” he pouted. Well, that’s not fair. 

“And you are childish.”

“You like it though,” somewhere, in the back of your mind, you were painfully aware of how it all looked. Your palms rested peacefully on his chest, and you smiled at each other without saying a word, yet understanding everything. ‘I do like it. I can’t help it.’ You were in love. Really, really, really in love. “And you are right. It was inappropriate. I’m sorry. I just wanted to tease you and took it too far. It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you,” you sighed and leaned forward, so his lips effortlessly pressed to your forehead. You were so screwed. 

After escaping Taehyung’s warm embrace (quite reluctantly), you snuck back into the room. The door clicked upon closing, and you were met Mrs. Lee’s knowing smile. 

“Is Taehyung in trouble?” she asked, but, if your own tender smile was any indication, he very obviously wasn’t. You still shook your head ‘no’ and averted your eyes, suddenly shy. The woman laughed quietly at your timidity, while you busied yourself with her wrist. Taehyung’s little “tease” interrupted your work in quite a dramatic way, so you weren’t even sure if the task was completed properly. “Be glad he’s still playful. That boy has eyes only for you. I can tell.”

If you were blushing before, now your face caught on fire. It was one thing to experience Taehyung’s absolute devotion yourself, but to have it pointed out by someone else was another feeling entirely. Once again, you couldn’t help but think that your past-life-self got really lucky with him. Oh.

“How did he propose?” the question halted your movements for a split second. Oh. How did he propose? That’s right. You didn’t know. Because it wasn’t to you. The blush on your cheeks fainted, and you suddenly felt cold. It was so easy to smile just a second ago, but now you had to put in a tremendous effort in order to appear unaffected. Though, if you listened closely, you could still feel your soul sighing in content from having Taehyung so near and so warm, and not so long ago. A bittersweet feeling, but it helped. 

“It’s almost time for your check up with Dr. Kim. How about we save that story for later?”

Mrs. Lee nodded, a little upset, and you couldn’t blame her. You’d love to hear all about it yourself. It would hurt even more, sure, but if you were to bet your life on anything, you’d bet it on Taehyung organizing the most wonderful and romantic proposal in the history of mankind. You didn’t dare coming up with something of your own right now, because it simply wouldn’t compare. 

Millions of thoughts and questions flooded your mind even before you left Mrs. Lee’s room. It wasn’t really you Taehyung was in love with. Of course, it wasn’t. It was another girl that shared your soul and looked like you. But then... Were you essentially your soul? Did it matter what life made of the rest of you? Was Taehyung in love with your soul exclusively? He said it himself. He was falling deeper in love with you. 

Taehyung’s beloved soul was your soul. It was just a lifetime older than he thought. 

“Y/N?” Namjoon’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and, after looking around for a second, you numbly discovered that your feet didn’t carry the rest of your body too far away from the door. “You okay?” 

You nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. The man was probably on his way to Mrs. Lee, so you had to pull yourself together as to not hold him up. 

“Could you, please, stop by my office later? I’d like to talk to you.”

“Sure,” you managed a verbal response this time. Short and sweet. Nice job all around, but it still earned you a concerned look from Namjoon. He regarded you for another moment, then nodded, disappearing behind the door a second later. 

You probably should’ve blinked at least once.

It turned out that Dr. Kim unintentionally witnessed the quiet and sweet moment you shared with Taehyung outside Mrs. Lee’s room. The hospital hall could be considered a public place, so the display of affection wasn’t meant to be hidden, yet, Namjoon felt as if he was prying on an intimate exchange. That foreign feeling made him stop and pay attention to something besides science (though, implicitly, the issue at hand was related to it), which said a lot. He was notoriously unaware of... He was notoriously unaware. Period. 

That, combined with faint mental notes he made while reading your reports, pushed Dr. Kim to invite you to his office for a private conversation. The way your descriptions of Taehyung’s past and present increased in poetic value as the time went on never really bothered Namjoon, because he could always work around that and still get a lot of valuable information. Plus, your expressiveness made it into a good read. 

Your every word became more vibrant and meaningful after he saw the way you looked at your fiancé. You were a terrible actress, and no one knew it better than Kim Namjoon. The man wasn’t being overly dramatic when he confessed to having nightmares in which your acting was so bad that it made Taehyung “snap out of it” and leave. Namjoon bet a lot on you. 

It was supposed to be a game of pretend, and he had to make sure it was still the case for you. Was Dr. Kim doing it for science? The man wasn’t sure himself. His research could still become groundbreaking, whether your heart ended up broken or not, but Namjoon just couldn’t stay unaware this time around. So now you were passing from wall to wall in his office, trying not to panic. Trying and failing. 

"How much longer will I have to play along? He wants... to do stuff, you know? I am his fiancée,” Namjoon glanced up from his papers, slight alarm in his gaze, so you hurried to clarify. “No, he doesn’t say or do anything. I just feel it.”

"Just tell him he's too weak for that," Dr. Kim shrugged, but then paused for a moment. It’s been a little less than three months. Taehyung was almost completely healthy. “Wait, actually, just tell him that it's against hospital policy. Or both.”

"That's what I tell him, but he's just so damn eager and responsive to everything I do! Not in a gross way, but still! What if he never comes back from it? What if I-,” fall in love before he wakes up? You didn’t finish the thought out loud, but your breathing was rushed and uneven, so he knew. He’s observant at the very least, but it’s more than that. You both knew. Namjoon was surprised at himself, and you were surprised to see his eyes so full of untapped emotion. He looked a little sad, but mostly worried. Maybe a tad bit apologetic. You hoped you imagined a drop of regret in the mix, because that’s what you didn’t feel, despite hurting. 

"Do you like him?" 

I’m in love with him.

"I do,” you said, defeated, yet, somehow, relieved by acceptance and the openness. For a split second you got scared that Namjoon would pull the plug on the research. “But let me do this. I will never hold it against you.”

The man appeared conflicted, but not nearly enough to drop all the progress you’ve made. To put the work of his life on hold. And you wouldn’t let Namjoon do it, even if he was ready to quit for your sake. You were his partner in crime, just as involved, and your “timeless lover” didn’t make you forget that. At least your heart would be broken for science.

"His feelings for you are not real. Not in this life. Please, remember that and be careful, Y/N".

Yeah. It was a little too late for that.

Maybe you overestimated your own determination to finish the research, or maybe it was harder not to pretend and be in love, with clear mind and a heavy heart. Maybe it was harder to accelerate, knowing that you were gonna crash. That, eventually, Taehyung would come to his senses and leave to live his life. 

Truth be told, you hoped it would happen sooner than later. Preferably before you married him, had kids and grew old together. Imagine trying to explain to someone where their whole life went and why another version of them got to live two.

To say that you were torn would be an understatement. Oh, how you wanted to just give in and love him, and be loved! It was agonizing, ironically so, because you couldn’t help but see it as the foreshadowing of the day that his love would be taken away from you, whether you decided to let yourself have it or not.

Your scale was looking more and more like the game of seesaw, refusing to balance, constantly tipping one way or the other. You went from being playful and engaged (no pun intended) to appearing cold and distant to everyone around you, not only Tae. The uncertainty was exhausting, to the point where you missed the days of just being awkward and nervous around “Taehyung the Patient”. Back when your love for him was only a memory that your mind would never be able recall, because, up until this point, it only echoed in the depths of your old soul.

There was no end to this back and forth, it seemed. But when, one day, you saw the way your internal turmoil affected the one you cherished the most, it became exceptionally easy to make a choice.

“Tae, I am leaving for the day,” you cracked open the door to his room and quickly scanned the space to make sure he was there. The lights were off, but as soon as your eyes got used to it, you found Taehyung standing by the window. It wasn’t an unusual sight, since he loved to admire the night sky every chance he got. The moon was full and visible for the first time in weeks, so, of course, the man was there to appreciate it in all its glory.

“See you tomorrow?”

On nights like this you always tried to say goodbye and make your exit swiftly, leaving Taehyung to have his moment of peace, but this time the boy’s profile didn’t seem serene to you. There was no dreamy smile playing on his lips. His eyes weren’t traveling from star to star, looking for constellations. Instead, his lips were stretched thin and pale, and probably bitten in worry. You could see that he was frowning, but the blank look in his eyes was the most concerning.

“Tae?” when he didn’t answer again, you stepped further into the room. The door creaked unpleasantly, pulling Taehyung from his thoughts. At the sight of you something in him moved, but stayed still. It felt like his soul immediately reached out for yours, and, for the first time, he didn’t let its urges guide him. The realization terrified you. He was uncertain. You hated it.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Are you leaving?” Taehyung asked. He understood that you had to go home sometime, yet, it didn’t make him miss your presence less. The boy never wanted you to leave, and it was always obvious. Except now. Taehyung wasn’t sure if he wanted you to stay, because he wasn’t sure if you’d rather go. He hated it.

“Um, yeah. I was about to head out,” your thumb pointed towards the exit, but you proceeded to move forward and soon stopped, facing Taehyung by the window. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t-“

“Tae,” you cut in, suddenly desperate to resolve whatever was troubling him. “You can tell me,” when your fingers moved across the windowsill to touch his, Taehyung held his breath, because you never really initiated physical contact before. Not like this. Your touch was always meant to comfort or calm him. You never did it, because you yourself craved the closeness. “Please, tell me.”

“It’s you,” Taehyung breathed, and your fingers froze millimeters away from his. It broke the boy’s heart a little, but he couldn’t keep his own muddle to himself anymore. Because you did initiate touches before. You were utterly selfish and demanding when it came to keeping him close, and it was so very charming, he couldn’t stand being away. Taehyung felt needed. Sadly, that car crash seemed to have broken something between you. And it split his life in two.

“I don’t recognize you,” for a moment you thought that his old memories were leaving him, confabulation gradually wearing off, but no. The memories of two lives weighed him down, conflicting and contradicting each other. It pained you to see him so lost.

“And I don’t feel like you recognize me, either. Most of the time you look at me like I am a stranger,” Taehyung’s voice started wavering, confused and sorrowful, as if the boy never imagined that he would be saying this to you. Your fingers moved again, completely on their own, to touch him. To comfort him. “At first I thought that, maybe, you were just in shock after the accident. Maybe, you thought you were going to lose me. And I get it, I do. I can see that you still love me,” oh, thank God, he saw it. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself, if he lost his faith in your love - the only thing he wholeheartedly connected to in this world, in this time. “But it’s been months of up and downs, and I don’t understand, and- it’s just starting to hurt.“

Taehyung gasped a couple of seconds before your lips met his, because it was only the third of the things you did. First, you intertwined your fingers and tugged him closer. Second, your right hand flew up to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him down. Third. The moment fell into complete stillness as you stayed there, unmoving, with your lips pressed together way too tightly. If he was going to feel your kiss for the first time in months, you were going to make it count. You wanted it to leave a mark on his heart, deep enough to reach his soul.

And maybe that kiss felt like trying too hard at first - because, admittedly, you were a little desperate to heal his doubtful mind - but it all clicked into place, when his fingertips reached to touch the side of your face. Still unsure and nervous, but slowly starting to believe that it was really happening. In that moment, you heard your soul whisper something not so secret: it, and you, already knew how to kiss him right. You knew how to kiss Taehyung to make him smile. You knew how to kiss him to drive him crazy with want. You knew. So you pulled back to lessen the pressure, letting your lips move smoothly and tenderly against his. You knew how to kiss Taehyung to make him feel loved.

"Do I kiss the same?” you asked, breathless, hoping against all hope that you really did kiss his lips right now just as you kissed him a lifetime ago. The man swallowed shakily, nodding his head. Taehyung didn’t move away, not even a little, as if he simply missed the feeling of your breath on his skin. To him, there was something so singular and intimate about the face-to-face, skin-to-skin closeness and sharing the same air, that you never even had the “big spoon/little spoon discussion”. The pair of you always fell asleep and woke up facing each other, morning breath be damned.

“Yes. Yes, you do,” his hands cupped your face - understandably urgent, but still so very gentle - and he dove right back into the kiss. You had no choice but to keep up, because Taehyung seemed determined to have all the wasted time made up for. It wasn’t long before he lost himself in you: hands in your hair, fingers and thumbs; deep little sighs and sweet noises against your lips. The way Taehyung moved became almost chaotic as he tried to find some balance between holding you close and not breaking his ribs all over again.

While Taehyung was quick to melt into the kiss, you took your time, letting the inevitable impact build and build under your skin - with every slide of his lips, with every touch of his fingers - to, eventually, hit you all at once like a tidal wave. Taehyung wasn’t exploring you like this for the first time, (even though, judging by how eager he was, you wouldn’t be able to tell), but to you, in this body at least, it was the first. And, oh, what an absolutely maddening ride. To top it all off, you forgot to take into consideration that, as well as you knew how to make his body tick, Taehyung was just as knowledgeable about your weaknesses. Within minutes, naturally, he managed to make you mewl and pant, and tremble against him.

“Tae,” your attempt to pull away failed, so his name got muffled by his own mouth. You smiled at his unwillingness to stop kissing, but tried again, pushing lightly at his chest. Nightshift nurses took their duty seriously. “Tae, we should stop.”

The man made a faint noise of disapproval at the loss of contact, but nodded and gave you some space. It felt as if your lips would never stop buzzing.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he paused, catching his breath, and no one could understand him better than you. That was intense. “It’s been so long.”

Taehyung’s hold on your waist tightened, and you could feel those words coming. The anticipation in your chest was tangible, yet you’ve never felt more content.

“I love you.”

…

“I love you, too.”

Looking back, yes, it should have been an awkward interaction for you. By all accounts. Faking affection towards someone you barely knew, just to get data. Ridiculous. But… If someone asked you about it right now, you’d say that pretending to be in love with him was the easiest thing you ever had to do.

So you let yourself love Taehyung for another day. For another week. Trusted him with your heart completely, without caution or doubt. Became adorably clingy, just the way he remembered you. Whatever common sense that was left in your system was used to dodge the wedding plans discussions, and it was easier, too, because you could just kiss the boy into silence, and he would never complain about that or suspect anything. Taehyung just figured, you missed him just as much as he missed you. But, oh, how you wanted to indulge in those discussions sometimes. 

Namjoon still tried his best to forewarn and protect you, but, at the same time, he understood that it wasn’t his choice to make anymore or his place to judge your decision. All he could do was go through your daily reports and gather all information possible. No one could halt the research, simply because it became more than just a research to you. Namjoon did hope, though, that it would come to an end before the point where your heartbreak overshadowed the triumph of science.

And it did. 

“I will love you forever,” he said the night before, as a goodbye you both thought would only last till morning. You smiled, letting him kiss your forehead, and replied: “You better.”

Your coat wasn’t even off yet, when you spotted Namjoon coming out of Taehyung’s room. He was smiling to himself as he closed the door, and then his eyes found yours. Slowly, you moved towards him, even though Namjoon didn’t call. Not with words or gestures at least. The man’s smile turned into something undefinable, an anxious mix of dread and hopefulness. You finally stopped in front of him, eyes pleading. 

“He’s back,” Namjoon said, clearly, but why did it also sound like “He’s gone” to you? That must have been the somber undertones in his voice. 

“Oh,” you exhaled, fumbling with buttons on your jacket. Okay. It’s alright. You knew this was coming.

“He wants to talk to you,” the man continued, and, before you could panic, his hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You are going to be fine.”

Namjoon looked deep into your wide, petrified eyes and smiled again, a lot warmer this time. His other hand lifted fluidly, and you followed its direction to breathe in... and breathe out. 

“Y/N,” Namjoon called, finally getting your gaze to focus on him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Your eyes suddenly watered, and you couldn’t help but smile at the man. He was your clarity and reason in all this madness. 

“No problem, Dr. Kim,” you raised your fist for him to bump, making the lovely dimples appear on his cheeks. “For science,” Namjoon laughed at that, and quickly bumped your awaiting fist, before wrapping you in a tight hug.

“For science.”

-

“Hey,” the door creaked right as you said that, making your whole body wince. Great start. It’s wasn’t a loud hey in the first place, so you prepared to say it again, oblivious to the fact that Taehyung’s attention was already on you. 

“Hey,” he echoed, straightening up a little. No longer oblivious, you let yourself look at him. He was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, and you noted that it was opened on one of the later pages. He didn’t start from the beginning, but continued reading it. “Please, come in.”

The boy crossed his legs, making more room for you on the bed, but you moved to stand at the foot of it. He didn’t question your choice of position, wisely deciding to give you some much needed space. In that moment, it suddenly hit you that only yesterday you could come in and practically jump into his arms, starting Taehyung’s morning with a kiss. It wasn’t the case anymore. 

A moment of awkward silence stretched through the air, but, eventually, you gathered enough courage to speak first. 

“Do you remember-"

"I remember everything," Taehyung deadpanned, and you nodded, swallowing some of the nerves. Namjoon suspected he would. This was no ordinary case. “And I am glad I do.”

The addition made you look up from the floor. Taking a chance to study Taehyung closer, you didn’t expect to find the look in his eyes so... sympathetic. And curious. And anticipating. 

“Oh, God, Tae,” sudden embarrassment washed over you, and your hands came up to cover your flushed face. “I am so sorry. I feel so terrible-“

“What? Why are you apologizing?” Taehyung was taken aback, seemingly surprised by the outburst of guilt. Trying to explain your embarrassment was, somehow, even more embarrassing. 

“You weren’t in your right mind, and I sort of took advantage of that,” truth be told, you never saw it that way before. Not until you met the real Taehyung. “With all the kisses and touches. I should’ve stopped it. It’s your body, and I had no right-“ 

“No, no, no. I get it,” as if pulled by some force, the boy shuffled across the bed on his knees, eventually stopping in front of you. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, gently moving your hands away from your face. “You had to keep the story going for me. Dr. Kim explained everything.”

‘Right. Keeping the story going. That’s all it was,’ you thought ruefully, but said:

“Thank you for understanding,” it was easy to smile at Taehyung, even now, so you did. The boy smiled back, releasing your wrists, and, strangely, you didn’t feel like keeping distance between you anymore. “I feel a little less perverted.”

“Good. You should,” Taehyung nodded, looking proud of the fact that he didn’t let you think badly of yourself. “So,” the man shrugged innocently, letting his hands fall to rest of his thighs. “You said you sort of took advantage...,” Taehyung’s eyes glimmered mischievously, and you noticed his fingers tapping a playful rhythm on his lap. Wait... “Does it mean that you liked it? If it was to your advantage...”

Was he teasing you right now?

“Oh, wow. That was so bad,” you burst out laughing, which felt kind of anticlimactic, but so so needed. That’s Taehyung for you. The boy laughed along, showing off that infectious boxy smile of his. “How about I leave now, for awhile, and you come up with something better, okay?”

“Wait, wait,” Tae reached for your hand again, when you made a move towards the door. Both of you knew that you weren’t really leaving. “Do you want to get a cup of coffee? With me? Or tea? You like tea, right?” it’s like the boy wanted to prove that he remembered these things about you. It was sweet. 

“Tae, are you sure? I mean, it wasn’t really you who liked me-“

“I said I remember everything, and I really like what I remember. About you. About us. I mean, if anything, the question is did you like the-past-life me, because, let me tell you, he’s not that different from the guy standing right here.”

“Well, obviously. The soul is the same.”

“See? Something tells me you weren’t faking it, not all the time. Not when it mattered,” his words carried certain weight, like he not only remembered, but, miraculously, experienced everything that happened. “So, did you like him?” Yes. Easy. “Do you like me?” Ooh, a little tougher. He did look exactly the same. (Duh.) Yet, there was something that made him feel more aware, more awake. More... here.

“If you remember everything, like you said, then you should know the answer to the first question.” I loved him.

“I do,” Taehyung said, turning completely serious for a moment, and you were thankful that he didn’t take your feelings lightly. “That’s why I-,” the boy cut himself short and bashfully shook his head. Cute. “Sorry, nevermind. It’s cheesy and a little too far.”

“No, tell me,” you tugged at his hand, consequently realizing that it was still holding yours. The comfortable nature of it didn’t surprise you. “I’ll be the judge.”

"I think he left something with me, and,” Taehyung’s free hand landed on his chest, near his heart, emphasizing where the change happened. “Who knows, maybe we will prove that eternal soulmates exist too," the boy was beaming, so proud of his charming line, and you didn’t make him wait too long for a reaction. Your cheeks got much warmer, and you lowered your gaze, trying to hide a shy smile that threatened to hurt your jaw with how wide it was. 

“You were right. It is cheesy. But, maybe, not too far fetched.”

You cried yourself to sleep that night, realizing that, in some strange and gut wrenching way, you lost someone you loved. Forever. That bright and ridiculously romantic Taehyung from 1960s was gone. But you smiled before finally dozing off, thinking that you gained someone who could make you heart flutter just the same. Perhaps, equally bright and romantic. You just needed to give it a little time. 

You fell in love with Taehyung once. You could do it again. Namjoon still had to prove it, but his soul belonged with yours, and...

He promised to love you forever, after all. 

["thank you for stopping me, when i- uh, when i wanted to take things a little too far."

"um, yeah, no problem. though, i must admit, it wasn't too easy." 

"how so? was i- was i pushing you too much?"

"no! no. it's just that- sometimes, you and... what you did... made me forget about, well, everything."

"oh? ... OH! i see..."]

a/n: thanks for reading! i really hope you enjoyed! for more of my stories go for masterlist here and here. feedback, as always, is needed and will be very much appreciated.

if you like my stories, you can support me here: buy me a coffee ✨☕️

Copyright © 2019 by wonderer-ru. All rights reserved. 

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Silent Song, Chapter 8

Forgive me for the delay, below is Chapter 8. 

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

    Tony had been suffocating her. Every time anyone directed her to do anything, he would jump down their throats saying that she was free to do what she wished, when she wished. It didn’t matter how much Hotaru tried to communicate that it was fine, he still hovered. What she ate, how much she ate, it was all controlled by him as contrary as that seemed. It left Hotaru yearning for the freedom, the little bit of control she had before the night she had taken ill.

    It was early when Hotaru woke that morning, nearly a week after that painful night. She always woke early, with the sun but today she didn’t feel like leaving her room. Tony would be there, from the start. It seemed he always was, without fail.

    She’d gained some weight and wasn’t so sickly thin anymore. Bruce had said she was free to resume normal eating after a phone call to Dr. Strange. Still, she had a long way to go before she reached a healthy weight or normal muscle mass. Yet Tony still monitored everything she ate. It was him that decided if, when and how she would work out. It seemed it was him that decided everything for her now.

    As Hotaru finally changed into a pair of jeans she thought about her life, what she could remember of when she was a child, of before and of the life she had lived in captivity. She thought about the life she was living now. It was odd that she was beginning to resent her brother for the control he was forcing on her, yet when left to her own devices she remained stagnant, doing nothing. As more and more nights passed, Hotaru found herself better able to think, as if a deep fog was slowly lifting off her mind, a fog that had been present for most of her life and yet she had hardly noticed it.

    It was like her mind was a muscle she was also just beginning to exercise, perhaps. Tony took her to a different library in the building and helped her to pick out books. It was smothering, nearly everything he did. It wasn’t really her that picked the books, not really though he told himself that it was. Tony decided what he thought was best and then she got to pick from that.

    In an effort to escape the weight of Tony’s constant care, Hotaru had begun staying up later into the night. Tony would all but tuck her into bed and as soon as he left, she would mill around her room enjoying the peace. Sometimes she would try and make sense of the book Loki loaned her but even now it was heavy reading.

    It left her tired, but she was sleeping better at night then she could ever remember. The warmth of the bed, the comfort, it lulled her into a deep slumber. She didn’t need the long nights of rest after her initial recovery. It made it easier for her to keep her lonely nights without Tony changing their schedule, without him questioning her. On occasion, she was still tired in the morning, yet Tony chalked that up to nightmares, something that still plagued her nearly nightly.

    Today, like every day, Tony doted on her. He had obtained an online course and was pushing her to resume her education. Yet, he hovered as she sat at the laptop he provided her, seemingly never stopping talking.

    “This program here,” Tony pointed. “If you open it- that’s an IM program. You can send messages to everyone through it if they are online, that’s the green circle. If someone’s not online, Jarvis will notify them of a message unless they request him not.” Hotaru nodded. It would be a step toward normal communication. Yet, with the exception of Steve, Tony and Bruce, no one seemed to sit around in front of computers and tablets waiting to chat.

    “I can get you a tablet today, set it up all spiffy for you. It would work the same, anywhere in the Tower.” Tony was getting worked up again, trying to fix things. Trying to fix her. “It wouldn’t be hard at all to set it up to read what you type outside of the IM system, really. I should have thought of that, already.”

    ‘Its fine’ Hotaru was slow to pick at the keys, missing the simplicity of pen and paper. Tony nodded and agreed.

    It was fine, he would take care of it. Finally, he left her with her ‘course work’ and she breathed deeply. Everything about the computer was cumbersome to navigate and writing with the keyboard was a slow and painful death to her already fragile sanity. If Loki had not swept into the room when he did, she likely would have chucked the offensive computer and it’s damned course out the nearest glass window, possible punishments be damned.

    “Something troubles you, Little Firefly?” Loki glanced at her as he set a kettle on the stove.

    She pecked at the keyboard for a moment longer before collapsing dramatically on her arms. Loki watched as she swallowed for a moment before frantically looking for her notebook before he pushed from behind the laptop screen, a small smile playing at his face at her theatrics. It was something he had grown fond of, in exchange for her silence it seemed everything his Little Firefly did was dramatic.

    He watched as she heaved a sigh and snatched the pen up. Quickly, she was scribbling away words as he poured hot water into his mug. When he returned to the counter, dropping a tea ball into the mug she had finished and turned the book for him to read.

    ‘Tony has me doing school on this thing. Everything takes forever to do. Writing on it is hard. Making it work is hard. It’s boring. He will be mad if I don’t do it.’ Her words were written in the green ink that she seemed to only use when talking to him.

    “What makes you think he’d be angry if you told him you didn’t wish to continue?” Loki paused as he mixed a smidge of honey into his mug and set the kitchen back to rights. He could hear the tapping of her pen behind him, yet not the sound of it working over the paper. She had no true answer to give. “You are safe here, you are free here. Little Firefly, no one will make you do something you do not wish to here unless you allow them to do so. You are in control of how much power they have over you.”

    ‘He won’t let me breath’ she finally scratched out the words. Most of the time, her notes were short, conversations hardly more than the passing of needed information or answering questions. Yet with Loki, he would give her as much time as she needed to write without making her feel as if he was waiting on her, as if she was holding him behind.

    “Perhaps speak with him?” When she cocked an eyebrow at him, Loki caught his careless use of words but a smile grew on her face just the same. He spoke to her as if she was a normal person.

    ‘How? He gets bored and distracted when I’m writing.’ It felt like even when Tony was hovering over her, he was always talking at her. She couldn’t write fast enough and before she was finished his mind was off on the next topic. No matter what, it felt like she was too slow for him.

    “I could assist you with that.” Loki nodded at the laptop. “I’ve managed well enough, however typing will take time for you to master. The technology of this world is very much a part of Stark’s life, if you speak to him through it he may yet hear you better, Little One.”

    Hotaru nodded, chewing her lip as Loki came around the other side of the island, setting his mug down next to her only to have her snatch it up and take a sip, flinching when the still too hot tea touched her lips. The not so subtle theft of his tea did not go unnoticed but Loki didn't comment on it.

    “Show me what he has you doing. Take your time.” Loki watched over her shoulder as she clumsily navigated the system. She showed him lessons and ebooks that made her eyes hurt after a while. Working the mouse became easier with time however the system still left her confused.

    ‘I’m sorry. I know this is child’s work.’ she finally wrote when he took over the mouse, instructing her on easier ways to navigate and clearly renaming abstract application names to things that would make sense to her. After lowering the brightness on the screen and tweaking a few settings, it hurt her eyes less to look at it.

    In the hall, Loki could hear the shuffle of Tony’s feet as he worked, drawing closer before stopping, turning suddenly and retreating. His steps were more forceful now that he knew Loki was with her. It pleased Loki greatly to know that just being near the little girl irritated the man enough to give her some space.

    “Do not be.” Loki spoke when he passively glanced down to her note. “The time you would have learned these things here on Midgard was stolen from you. You did not squander the chance, you retained the ability to write and further, mastered something as complicated and dexterous as how you write out messages on flesh with not just a fingertip, but multiple working tandem. You have nothing to be sorry for, Dear Heart.”

    While his words sank in, he went over what each program did, what he named them and where they were to be found. Loki kept his explanations simple, short and allowed her time to absorb the concepts before opening the childish typing program that was little more than children’s games. Based on the date mark on it, he wondered if it was purchased around the time she went missing- a relic that shouldn’t have been allowed in the light of day again. Loki closed it just as quickly, settling for a plain word document.

    “When you are typing, rest your hands on the keyboard like this.” Loki first showed her how hands sat on the keys, at rest with finger tips poised and ready, yet hands relaxed. Once she nodded, he lifted his hands off the keys and gently guided her hands to rest as his did.

    He spoke to her softly of typing, of how just as when she would write, much of the action was muscle memory and would take time to perfect. She should not fear the time it took to learn, because once it was mastered, she would have ready access to a whole world of communication. Loki told her of worlds online, where no one would know her, what she had been through or that she couldn’t talk like them. Where everyone communicated by the written word alone. A world where she could be normal. A world where she could be anyone she wanted.

    That alone was motivation to try. It helped, for Loki to speak of her lack of intelligence as something that wasn’t her fault. As she practiced typing out messages from her notepad, Loki watched while sipping his tea.

    “Do try not to look at the keyboard. It will be hard at first but in due time, you will have a map in your mind of the keys. You’ll type faster that way in the end.”

    Hotaru nodded at him and made an effort as best she could to do as he said. She was slow still, but with her hands in proper position and fingers working together as a team, her words began to form faster. Still, a paper and pen would be faster for her at the moment but it gave her hope just the same. When her hands began to tire, she leaned back and stretched.

    Hotarun turned in her stool and found Loki standing closer to her then she had realized. His arm rested on the back of the stool, blocking her in unintentionally as he looked down at her. Warmth radiated off of him, yet it wasn’t the same heat she expected, perhaps since he was calm? In the past, when her keepers would be so close to her, when they would use her, heat poured off of them making her fear that their very touch would burn her skin.

    ‘Thank you’ Hotaru timidly reached up and delicately spelled the word out on his chest, just over his heart while offering him a blinding smile. Could she feel his heart beating in his chest? Had his heart always beat so loudly? Loki wondered if he needed to partake in a woman of fleeting morals, had it been so long that the wasted wisp of a girl set his blood moving? That was something that would need to be rectified.

    “You are truly welcome, My Dear.” Loki left her in a hurry, oddly enough. Hotaru couldn’t help but wonder what she had done wrong. Surely, she had done something to send one of the people she was closest with away. Whatever she had done, she hoped to not repeat it again.

    Rather than chase after him and risk punishment, she turned back to the screen. Loki wouldn’t punish her anyway, even if she had indeed done something, she reasoned. He wouldn’t do that to her, would he? It was better not to think about that, to start asking those questions. They would take her down the path of doubt, just as they always did. Instead, she muddled through the work set out for her as best she could. At least navigating was easier thanks to Loki’s assistance.

    Finally, that night Hotaru had enough of hiding away in her room after being tucked into her bed. Her room was beginning to feel like a cage with each passing night. They said she was free. Tony said she was free, they all did. So, what stopped her from leaving it? Old conditioning and new bravery warred in her mind and heart before she snatched up the book of Asgard and stepped out of her room,

    Would Jarvis somehow know and inform Tony? Hotaru still didn’t know who Jarvis was, but the man seemed to know all and see all. He seemed to be the only person she hadn’t been introduced to yet that interacted with the floors that served as the groups home.

    With her bag slung over her shoulder and heavy book in her hand, she decided it didn’t matter. They had yet to punish her for anything and so if Jarvis, whoever he was, told Tony she didn’t stay in her room that night so be it. What harm would come?

    “Good evening, Little Firefly.” Loki’s smooth voice greeted her when she slowly walked into the living room. “I feared Stark had you under lock and key upon sunset.”

    Hotaru shrugged as she walked over to the couches. It was nearly midnight and most of the tower had gone to sleep. She and Loki were alone in the living space and he didn’t seem angry with her. Clutching the heavy book in her arms, she looked around trying to decide where was the place she should sit, where Loki would like her. Such thoughts as those were not easy ones to turn off.

    “You’ve not enjoyed the book?” Loki questioned, however it sounded much more a statement. His mind was already made up. The never ending stream of books Tony sent Hotaru off had not escaped his attention and he wondered when she would return his book, saying she had grown bored with it.

    Shuffling, she tried to grab her notebook out of her bag, nearly spilling everything on the ground and dropping the book while shaking her head. She wanted to read it, she did. But it was hard and she had so little time with Tony seemingly hovering over her.

    “Sit, little one, if you will.” Loki patted the space near him. “Else you’ll surely drop everything.”

    Hotaru did as told, without thinking. It was an automatic action that did not go unnoticed by Loki. It pleased him to have such power over her, though he knew it shouldn’t. She was one he could count on to obey, though she was to be learning freewill. It would be such a shame when she no longer obeyed.

    ‘It’s hard to read, but I’m trying.’ The note drew him out of his thoughts as it was presented to him.

    “Do you wish assistance with it?” Loki asked. “Or mayhap you have questions for me?”

    Hotaru nodded, though Loki couldn’t be sure as to which question she was agreeing to. Regardless, she offered him a small smile. One that seemed to be reserved only for him. Loki found himself liking that smile, the more he saw it. She would offer it freely to him, often in thanks for subtle direction during her days.

    ‘If you don’t mind? I know I write slow and I don’t want to be troublesome.’ The words surprised Loki. All her notes were quickly written and clearly readable, how would anyone find conversing with her troublesome? As for the time it did take, it allowed one to think and formulate an answer, preventing things spoken in the moment. Loki told her as much and again, she offered him that sweet little smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

    ‘Where are you and Thor from? What is Asgard?’ often, she tried to search for Asgard on the maps left periodically on tables but could never find it.

    “Asgard is another world, very far away from this one. We hail from that world. Thor was born there.” Loki hoped she wouldn’t ask more of himself as he realized that she intended to simply question him at the moment.

    ‘You are a Prince of that place? Thor is King?’ Loki nodded at her.

    “You remember correctly, Little One.”

    ‘You said you were a king of ------ another place?’ She stretched out where she tried to write the name he had spoke, but couldn’t begin to fathom how it was spelled.

    “Jotunheim. Yes.” Loki’s words were cold at that. “There certainly isn’t anything failing with your memory.”

    ‘Is it like Asgard?’

    “It is not.” The bite in Loki’s voice caused her to flinch and instantly, Loki knew it was a misstep on his part and continued with a sigh. “It is a frozen waste land. Few if any remain alive there any longer.” Hotaru nodded and for a moment, they sat in silence and she did not write anything else.

    ‘Why are you here?’ finally she asked. It was such a simplified version of the questions she truly wanted to ask but for now, that would do just fine.

    “I am here because I intended to read. I am here because you sought company tonight.” Loki offered a charming smile to the girl sitting next to him wearing too big clothes, dressed ready for sleep.

    ‘That’s not what I meant.’ She finally wrote.

    “I know.” He admitted. “I’m here by Thor’s order.” Loki finally admitted. He didn’t want to have to tell her what he did, the monster he was.

    ‘Why?’ again she asked. Loki owed her no explanation and the bite of anger bubbled within him again, yet this time he was prepared and was able to push it down.

    “A story for another time, perhaps Little Firefly.” His words were soft when he spoke and she nodded at him.

    ‘I only wanted the book to learn about you.’ Finally she gave words to the reason, fearing he would find her childish.

    “You can ask us, we’ll answer the best we are able for most things.” It felt a lie saying the words, because it was. She had just asked him a question and they both knew he denied her the answer. Yet she knew he did not answer because it was something he wasn’t ready to talk about. Her heart told her that. She never had anything, anyone else to trust in and so she had always trusted in her heart. Now wasn’t a good time to stop.

    ‘I still want to read it, but I’m slow. It’s hard, I’m sorry.’ Over the last few nights, Hotaru had been slowly working her way through the heavy book again. 'If you want it back?' She added.

    “Take your time, if you wish. Keep it as long as you like.” As Loki spoke, he heard the shuffling sound of footsteps in the hall.

    It was a sound unique to Tony, a sign that he had already consumed his fair share of scotch for the night. It didn’t surprise him that Tony came down, though he normally stayed in his lab and private rooms during the nights. More than likely, he was informed the moment Hotaru left her room and was watching a video feed as they sat on the couch together. Now was the time to play his little game in earnest.

    “Read it as slow or fast as you wish, Little Firefly.” Softly, he rested his hand on her knee.

    Hotaru nodded and her breath hitched at the contact. It was odd, Loki was not one for such subtle affections. Yes, he had touched her in the past, but this was different. Before, it was always a guiding hand. Now he was offering comfort, reassurance in such a simple touch and so she smiled at him, a small pure smile before beginning to write again.

    ‘Everyone here is smart.’ she started before deciding he was safe. Loki was safe. ‘I feel like Tony deserves a smart sister. Smart like him. I’m sorry that I’m stupid.’

    Hotaru didn’t hear the sound of Tony’s feet on the floor as he moved closer. His stomach was tied in knots and for the first time in a long while, he wasn't sure if the scotch would stay down. Loki shouldn’t be touching her. Loki would hurt her. Loki would kill her. Loki would take her. Loki. Loki. Loki.

    Tony swallowed the lump and the panic. He knew those thoughts. Those thoughts were born of anxiety. Born of panic. Born of fear. Those thoughts were lies. Were they really? Yes, Thor said Loki could be trusted. Loki hadn’t done any harm in the six months he had been in the tower, beyond a few small pranks.

    Yet still, seeing him sitting so close to her turned his stomach. He was close enough to hear what the God said.

    “You, Little One, are most definitely not stupid.” Loki grabbed her hand before she could write more and Tony fought back the urge to lunge at the God for touching her. “You will listen to me before you speak again.”

    It was hard, but Tony kept his feet planted. He hated when others would tell his Hotaru what to do. She was free. Was she? Did he not dictate all of her days? Why was she even awake when he tucked her into bed? Didn’t she want to go to bed? He tried to remember her making the choice to go to bed, her saying that was what she wanted and his mind was coming up blank. His thoughts were cut off by Loki’s words again.

    “Yes, you lack much knowledge others would have at your age. Yet you know pain, you know sorrow, you know want in a way few others do. You hold the ability to gain knowledge- that is what sets the intelligent ones apart from those with minds gone lame.”

    Hotaru nodded with tears in her eyes and a shuddering breath. Over her shoulder, Loki could see the conflicted look on Tony’s face but paid the man no mind. If he gave him his attention, the game could come to an end- or at least that is what he told himself.

    Tony watched on, stunned to hear the words Loki spoke. It was easy to imagine what she could have written to cause him to say such things, though Tony couldn’t make the words out from his place. He glanced down at the glass of scotch clutched in his hand.

    Simultaneously, he wanted to down the contents of the cup and to never drink another drop. Had he made her feel that way? Was it him that made her feel stupid? Was he pushing too much, too fast?

    Loki watched as a tear finally slipped free from her eyes, leaving a trail down her cheek. Without much thought, he brushed the trail away and took her notebook from her hands, setting it on the table.

    “You are just what Stark needs you to be, Little One. In two weeks, you will be what he needs you to be then as well. In six months, just the same. You are as you need to be, as long as you keep learning, keep healing, you will always be what he needs.”

    Loki surprises himself just as much as Hotaru when he pulls her into his lap. She comes willingly enough and settles against his chest as his arms lay softly on her back.

    “Rest, Little Firefly. Let your heart rest for it has been through much.” Softly he spoke . Yet all the while, he is aware of Tony, slyly watching the man as he makes a point to speak just loud enough to be heard.

    Tony turned on his heel and left. Quickly he made his way up to his rooms and before he knew it, he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet like a frat boy. When he finally could stand again, he hurled his glass against the wall and watched in mild satisfaction as glass and liquid exploded on contact before falling into his bed. What tomorrow would bring? Hell if he knew but he had to do better. For her, he had to do better. Had to be better.

    Loki focused on Hotaru once Tony had left. Her brother didn’t make a silent exit and it was surprising that she didn’t look up at the noise. The warmth of her body soaked into him, warming him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. She fit nicely in his lap too.

    After a moment, Loki realized she had fallen asleep. It would be best to deposit her into her bed. With Tony already set off for the night, he had no reason to keep holding her. She could be left on the couch, yet Loki didn’t feel right leaving her in the open. After all that she had been through, years of sleeping on cold hard surfaces, she deserved every night she spent in a bed.

    It wouldn’t work with his game. Oh yes, the game was heating up indeed. It was just a game, after all.

    “Brother?” Thor spoke as Loki carried the small frame of Hotaru to her room.

    “Speak softly.” Loki hissed as he entered into the hall.

    Thor watched as his brother carried the small girl to her room and set her into the bed, pulling blankets over her. He waited until Loki entered the hall again and the girl’s door was closed before beginning again to speak.

    “You care for her?” Thor grinned wide at the words. “It’s great!”

    “You know nothing, Brother.” Loki didn’t even spare the larger man a glance as he crossed the hall.

    “She is good for you.” Thor commented, leaning next to the door.

    “She is nothing.” Loki countered, slipping into the room and closing the door on Thor’s grinning face.

    She was just a game. It was just a game. Just a way to pass the time. Just a way to get under Stark's skin. Just a hobby. He didn’t care about her. He would never care about her. She could never care about him. He was a monster, when she found out she would leave him. She wouldn’t stay.

    It was just a game.

Tag list: @dangertoozmanykids101 @bambamwolf87 @kristinaraven99 @theoneanna

[schoolpsychlife]

How To Review A Manuscript Journal editors identify 10 key steps for would-be reviewers

APA Monitor on Psychology, May 2018

By Chris Palmer

While your first thought may be, "I don’t have time for this," reviewing manuscripts can be a great opportunity. Reviewers get an early view of what’s happening in their fields, better insight into how the review process works and a chance to network, all of which can foster your career, says Rose Sokol-Chang, PhD, publisher of APA journals.

Potential reviewers land on the radar of journal editors in a variety of ways: They may have recently landed a tenure-track position, been lead author on a standout paper or even given a compelling talk at a conference.

But how, exactly, does a reviewer approach the manuscript-review process? Here are 10 keys from editors of APA journals to guide you:

1 GET TO KNOW THE REVIEW FORMAT At its core, a manuscript review is made up of three sections:

▪ The rating form. The editor will provide you a form for rating the manuscript on a predetermined list of attributes that will lead you to answer the central question: Do you think this journal should publish the manuscript?

▪ A note to the authors. This section—usually one to two pages—constitutes the bulk of the review. It summarizes the manuscript’s main points and includes general comments about the paper’s strengths and weaknesses. It also provides the authors with constructive feedback as well as a road map for arriving at the best possible version of their article.

▪ A note to the editor. This brief text conveys confidential comments to be read only by the journal editor, including whether any element of the paper is beyond the reviewer’s area of expertise.

2 FAMILIARIZE YOURSELF WITH THE JOURNAL After you have read the manuscript—and before you start writing—scour the journal and pay attention to how the articles are presented. Take note of the formatting, the order of the sections and the level of detail expected in the articles. Be sure that you have a clear understanding of the journal’s intended audience. Editors will often give you a list of instructions for your review as well. Tailor your review precisely to fit that journal. Also, find out the journal’s policy regarding reviewer anonymity. Some journals keep both the authors and the reviewers anonymous, while others give both parties the option to remain anonymous.

3 KNOW WHAT TO LOOK FOR Many journals provide reviewers with criteria for evaluating each section of a manuscript. In general, however, ask yourself if the article meets the following key benchmarks:

Overall, it makes a meaningful contribution to the field.

The science underlying the main idea is strong.

There are no significant gaps in the cited literature.

The results have not been previously published.

The research design is appropriate.

The right kinds of participants were used.

The sample size was adequate.

The correct statistics were used.

The interpretation of the data makes sense.

The findings are important and interesting to the journal’s readers.

The methods are explained well enough that the experiments can be replicated.

The discussion section integrates the findings with relevant theory rather than simply rehashing the introduction.

The writing is high quality.

In certain situations, some of these attributes may have an outsize impact. For example, a small sample size in a study performed with a difficult-to-study population, such as centenarians, will be given more leniency than a similar study using a small pool of college undergraduates as subjects. "Innovation and novelty need to be recognized," says Antonia Abbey, PhD, editor of Psychology of Violence.

4 ACCEPT, REJECT OR REVISE At the end of your process, you will recommend whether the journal should accept the manuscript as is, reject it outright or ask the authors to revise and resubmit the article. Unless you accept the manuscript as is—an extremely rare decision—you need to suggest ways to improve the paper for resubmission.

You also may choose to weigh in on whether the article would be a better fit for another publication. "The manuscript might be really good," Sokol-Chang says, "but perhaps not for that particular journal." An example would be if you’re reviewing a very technical manuscript for a broad journal such as American Psychologist, which focuses on major developments across all of psychology. "In your note to the author, you should feel free to make suggestions about the best place to resubmit the manuscript," Sokol-Chang adds.

5 MAP OUT A PLAN Having a set process for conducting your review can make the experience less daunting. William Stoops, PhD, editor of Experimental and Clinical Psychopharmacology, has developed a three-day process over the years that allows him to be deliberate and thoughtful without being rushed. On day one, he reads the manuscript through once without making comments or taking notes. "I sit at my desk, and I don’t have a pen in my hand; I don’t have anything. I just read it," he says. On day two, he marks up the manuscript with all his comments. On day three, he completes the rating form and types up his notes to the authors and the editor. Stoops came by this process through trial and error, and he says it may not suit everyone. "Everybody works differently," he says. "You just need to identify what works for you."

6 KNOW YOUR STATISTICS (AND IF YOU DON’T, JUST SAY SO) Many reviewers struggle with statistics, says Richard Gilman, PhD, editor of School Psychology Quarterly. Statistical methods have become so sophisticated in recent years that he requires at least one of the two reviewers to be a researcher or clinician with a strong statistical background. "Sometimes, a reviewer knows that the statistics are beyond them," he says. "So, they have a hard time formulating what their issues are with the manuscript." In these cases, the reviewer can still offer valuable feedback. "If the paper’s not landing well, separate yourself from the statistics and point out where the difficulties are," Gilman adds. He also suggests that the reviewer include a note for the editor if he or she feels that the statistics need to be looked at by an expert.

7 THINK BIG PICTURE While it’s important that details such as references are properly formatted, you’ve been asked to review the manuscript because of your subject-area expertise. So, dial back the copyediting and focus on the authors’ overall presentation of their research.

Sticking to the fundamentals will also keep your feedback to a manageable length, preferably no more than one to two single-spaced pages. "No one wants to read a four-page review," says Gilman. Besides, the small details will all change if the manuscript goes through substantive editing, he adds.

8 MEET YOUR DEADLINE Many journals operate on a 30-day turnaround. Some APA journals even request that reviews be returned within 21 days. Editors take their turnaround time seriously, so be upfront about whether you have time to complete the review, which typically requires one to four hours. If you do have to decline, says Stoops, a quick "no" is preferred so the editor can move on to ask someone else. "A lot of invitations to review have an expiry date," Stoops adds. "For my journal, we give folks four days to say yes."

If you do accept the invitation, stick to the deadline. "Nothing is more frustrating than waiting on reviewers to get their comments back," says Gilman.

If something comes up that will prevent you from making your deadline, it’s important to communicate that to your editor. Gilman says he’s happy to oblige if a reviewer needs more time: "I just want them to be in touch."

9 BE HONEST AND UPFRONT When an editor sends out a manuscript for review, he or she is doing so with a fair amount of trust. That means, among other things, that you cannot share the manuscript with anyone and that you must keep your thoughts about the unpublished manuscript to yourself.

The editor also expects the reviewer to report any potential conflicts of interest. The editor may not know, for example, that you reviewed the grant that funded the study. So, be sure to reveal that information and whether you feel you can be impartial. Often the authors’ names are not included, but if you become aware of conflicts, you should communicate with the editor. Also, if you don’t think you’re qualified to review a manuscript for any reason, communicate that to the editor, as well as what you would be interested in reviewing in the future.

"The editor may ask you to reconsider," Stoops says. "Or he may just say, ‘OK, I’ll keep you in mind if I see something that better fits your interests.’"

10 BE CONSTRUCTIVE AND KIND You’ve gone through the manuscript carefully and you’re ready to bullet point every flaw. But remember to lead with the positive.

"No paper is so bad that you can’t provide some sort of positive comments," says Gilman. Of course, you also need to deliver critical feedback, says Mary Beth Kenkel, PhD, editor of Translational Issues in Psychological Science. "Reviewers need to think of themselves not as judges, but as educators helping authors to improve their manuscripts by giving very clear, constructive notes."

RESOURCES

Journal Article Reporting Standards

(Open Access) Kazak, A.E. American Psychologist, Vol. 73, No. 1, 2018

Clinical Practice in Pediatric Psychology Mentoring Program for Junior Reviewers

www.apa.org/pubs/journals/cpp/reviewer-mentoringprogram.aspx

APA Collaborative Review Model

www.apa.org/pubs/journals/features/collaborative reviewmodel.policy.pdf

www.apa.org/pubs/authors/underrepresented.aspx

[lightholme]

I am stranger in a strange land. I have no skill in making anything useful--not with the tools of this age--and my body is ill-suited for hard labor. I decide to go from farm to farm until someone is willing to give me simple work that can be communicated without words. At least my regeneration will help me recover quickly.

I am kicked off a farm almost immediately. Within an hour or two it is obvious that I'm slower than a ten year old child of this time, and the farmer has no desire to share his hard-grown food with this oddly-garbed, weak-limbed creature. I have learned two words which I believe mean "barn" and "worthless piece of shit" (or something of that nature); I cannot pronounce either, but I repeat them as I walk.

I am near a city and the farms are blessedly close. Even so it takes close to a full day before I find another farm that allows me to do some work. My benefactor this time is grizzled and care-worn, yet I think he is touched by my helplessness. I work a few hours and eat for the first time, the flavors strange and bland to my palate. My vocabulary gains a few more words, but most of the communication is through hand gestures, though even that is surprisingly difficult. I sleep in the barn, rain dripping though the slats keeping me awake long into the night.

I had the good fortune to arrive during planting season. As I grow accustomed to the work, I feel I am less of a burden than I was at first. Perhaps I am even, barely, earning my keep. But, more to the point, my vocabulary is improving considerably and I am now speaking in short, simple sentences.

The summer is busy for me. I know I cannot stay here; after harvest I will need to find other accommodations. I know that learning to write is of the utmost importance, but there are no books to be found. Instead I slowly, painfully copy characters I see written wherever I find them, practicing them with the burnt ends of sticks on rock until I can form them quickly, even if I do not know their meaning.

My benefactor, who has the habit of occasionally looking on as I practice my "writing", surprises me one day we are in the city. He introduces me to a man whose function I do not really grasp, but who seems to be some sort of clerk. In any case, he is willing to write out some sentences and tell me what they mean. His accent is new to me, the vocabulary strange, and I drink it in. This man has some education. I use my charcoal collection to write the translations in English and he asks what language it is. I have no answer, so I tell him I made it up. He laughs. For many nights after, I copy these passages again and again.

I visit the clerk at every opportunity. The farmer is understanding. He is kind, and seems to care about me, but I also see relief in his eyes that I will not ask to stay the winter. The clerk has become a friend, and he willingly supplies me with new words and corrects my fledgling script. Luckily, the script is simple and rather flexible--much simpler than English--and my progress is rapid.

My writing has become quite serviceable, and well that it has, because the harvest is done and the preparations for winter have begun. I still work much of each day, but soon I will need to find new accommodations. The clerk, who it turns out takes dictations from the wealthy and illiterate, helps me find a job doing inventory and bookkeeping for a successful shop. It pays so little that I can scarcely afford to house, feed, and clothe myself, but I have ready access to quill pens and now my real work can begin.

On wood, stone, and any other surface I can find, I begin writing down everything I remember. About textiles, manufacturing, mathematics, psychology, history, and medicine. I write in English, and in great detail, developing a shorthand for my relative certainty about these facts.

Over the next several years, my education proves invaluable. The owner of the shop, at first scornful of my work, becomes, if not a friend, then at least an ally. I show him how to reduce inventory carrying costs using LEAN techniques and predictive forecasting of purchasing trends. I introduce a formal loyalty program, employ (relatively) sophisticated product pricing strategies, and he is generous in rewarding me as his wealth burgeons. The clerk is happy for my success at first, and I even try to help him, but the role reversal does not suit him well and we stop spending time together. When he dies a few years later, I don't even know. The farmer I visit occasionally. It is awkward, but I owe it to him. The shop purchases most of what he produces at a good price, and that is perhaps the only meaningful thing I give to him before he dies, quietly, eight years after I arrived.

It is during this time that I sow the seeds of wealth. I save every coin I can and found an informal bank. I am allowed to operate out of the shop owner's buildings in exchange for a 20% share of profits. He is skeptical at first, but it costs him nothing. By the time he dies, nearly 30 years later, it is more than half his annual earnings, according to the quasi-accounting team I now employ. I purchase the business from his widow for a sizable sum, sufficient to keep her in comfort for her few remaining years.

It takes time to find and train someone to handle the day-to-day management of the bank and the shop (still known as such, though it has expanded a dozen times and offers the finest and most varied wares in the city), but once accomplished, I turn my attention to my new project: a university. I pay to build it, but the ongoing costs are covered by the students, mostly the children of the obscenely wealthy. I need to be careful--some of my ideas could draw the wrong kind of attention--but I begin rigorously training them in the scientific method, drawing on every elementary school experiment I can remember. I find I enjoy this. Aside from some dalliances, I lead a fairly solitary existence. The children make me feel connected, meaningful.

It is time to deal with the issue of not aging. I establish a bank and university in two cities perhaps a month's journey away from each other and begin passing myself off as my own son or grandson. Every twenty years or so I rotate, managing the affairs of the other location by correspondence. Some of the students have grown up and become teachers. This is both heartwarming and inconvenient.

I have good paper now, just one of the many fruits of my universities. I publish a "book of prophecy", in which I attempt to capture all my recollections of science and phrase it as if they were clever guesses. This is perhaps all I can do to guide and hasten their progress. I continue to write down my memories, but I have not remembered anything new in a very long time.

I fall in love. She is young--everybody is young, when you have lived a century and a half--and she is bright, and she worships me, yet speaks to me candidly and without guile. Before I ask her to marry me, I tell her the truth about who I am, something I have never done before. I show her the vast piles of writings, copied and recopied in an ever greater expanse, organized and re-organized, indexed and cross-referenced a hundred ways. She does not believe me. She is not cruel, but she leaves the university soon after and I do not see her again for many years. For the first time, I contemplate death.

Impatient with the rate of progress, I use my wealth and prestige to forge a political career. I have no wish (or facility) to run a nation, but I advise, and my banks give my words weight. I do my best to resolve conflict and establish universities in every allied country. The thing I remember with the sweetest nostalgia, other than air conditioning and hot water, is TV shows. It is a bizarre, ridiculous thing to work toward, but I throw my wealth and centuries and harness the combined intellectual power of every major nation to make me some damned talkies

. It takes a long, long time.

It is 750 years before the world is "modern" in my eyes, though history has taken a vastly different shape. We had no dark ages, no long stretches of stagnation. For all the many gaps in my knowledge, there are always brilliant minds to discover--or even to leapfrog--the reality I recorded, which now seem another man's writing. I assume different identities now, controlling my enterprise through elaborate mechanisms of separation. My personas are primarily political as I continue to try to guide events. I succeed, though less with every passing century. I wonder, sometimes, if I should let loose the reigns, now that I have nothing to offer other than my accumulated wealth.

[aeseyastudies]

170618 // I haven’t made a post like this in a while, but I’m revising for an exam right now and it’s the last thing I want to be doing so I’m procrastinating (don’t follow my lead kids).

How I use Digital Notes

I’ll make a more detailed post about how I study at some point, but for now:

I use microsoft onenote, but you can use whatever program you feel comfortable with.

Useful features of onenote include the organisation into notebooks, sections, and tabs, search function, equation support, tagging, and formatting options (inc. different heading styles).

You can find really great posts about onenote quite easily if you’re interested in how it works (I would 100% recommend it).

Throughout the year I type up my class notes, summarising information and organising it into a sensible order.

This took a lot of discipline and I fell off the bandwagon quite a bit. I initially intended to type up my notes from the day every evening, but I found it’s more realistic to just do it as often as possible and to aim to finish each topic’s notes before I move onto the next one.

When I come to revise for exams I will rewrite and summarise my notes on paper (writing out notes helps me remember them, but this may not work for you)

When I’m doing the first few past papers I’ll have my notes with me so I can look things up until I can do a paper without them.

I find this is more effective than using the mark scheme to help as the mark scheme basically gives you the answers.

Why Make Digital Notes?

Obviously digital notes don’t work for everyone, but I find they’re much more useful to have than notes on paper, at least before you start revising.

The main benefits of digital notes are:

typing is faster than writing

search functions (depending on the program) to look up information quickly

neater and faster formatting

you can back them up somewhere else so you don’t have to worry about losing or damaging them

you can bring all your notes with you without it weighing a tonne (assuming your laptop/tablet doesn’t weigh a tonne)

copy and paste! Ofc use this as infrequently as possible, but it’s useful for quotes etc.

pictures without the effort of drawing or printing out and sticking in

cheaper as you don’t have to buy pens and paper as often

an excuse to bring your computer into school and then go online shopping and play games during really boring classes no I haven’t done this what are you talking about so you have access to google etc. to look things up whenever

Prioritising

The only reason I’ve managed to keep up with my notes throughout the year is because I don’t take any for maths and I’ve kind of fallen off the bandwagon for French (whoops). It’s a bit unrealistic to expect to keep up with all the notes for all your subjects (particularly if you’re doing gcses), so prioritise.

Subjects like maths tend to assess a skill rather than knowledge, so it’s probably more useful to do practice questions rather than make notes.

If you’re dropping a subject in a year and won’t touch it again make sure it’s actually worth making notes for the whole year.

In Class or After Class?

Whether you write notes on the computer during class or afterwards depends on the class.

I’ve got one particular teacher who flits back and forth between topics and often mentions things without going into detail because she assumes we’re too stupid to understand (not my favourite teacher ngl). So I use my laptop in her lessons so I can go back to topics we’ve already done and so I can google things to fact check (she frequently dumbs stuff down to inaccurate levels) and expand on points that she makes.

If you’ve got a teacher that tends to move super fast it might be worth having a computer with you as typing is generally much faster than writing.

If you can’t touch type learning is a really good idea, even just to improve the speed of your typing (I can’t actually touch type but I took a course until I learnt to use all my fingers when typing and now I type much faster). There’s lots of free online courses available.

Alternatively, you can just make all your class notes on paper and type up the important information when you get home.

This means you don’t have to worry about your class notes being neat enough to revise from; after you type them up you can file them or even throw them away to save space.

It also works as a review which is really good for putting the information into your long-term memory.

However it is also pretty time consuming so you’ve got to be super disciplined to keep on top of it.

In my school at a levels I’ve found it’s not too unusual to have a laptop out but it’s a bit odd to have one at gcses (idk about other schools). Obviously you shouldn’t care about what other people think, but if having your laptop/tablet with you will make you feel self-conscious and uncomfortable then leave it at home.

Also laptops and tablets are expensive and it’s understandable if you’d rather keep them safe at home.

That said, people do get used to it. Even if you’re the only one with a laptop/tablet, the novelty wears off quickly.

Some teachers don’t actually like students using laptops and tablets during class, so do check before you bring it in.

I hope this helped! Of course if you have any questions about this (or anything else) my ask is always open please ask me something

Here’s where I post this and find 56 typos :/

[akshay-s]

Free Mind Mapping Tools for Data Scientists to Enhance Structured Thinking

By Great Learning 

In today’s world, where data is king and tonnes of information is being generated every day from all sorts of sources, data visualisation is the need of the hour. This is especially true for data scientists.

Data scientists are tasked with seeing value in data and communicating these insights with other stakeholders who aren’t data scientists. This means each concept, relationship and result needs to be thoroughly understood and represented by a data scientist, to be able to pass it on to experts and non-experts. Structured data derived from unstructured dumps is becoming increasingly important for businesses looking to power decision-making and further business goals.

Why do data scientists need to have structured thinking?

It is crucial that a data scientist be able to think critically and analytically in a structured manner. Structured thinking is defined as the process of creating a structured framework to understand and resolve an unstructured problem. Having a structure enables a data scientist to understand problems at micro and macro levels– this, in turn, highlights areas that require a deeper understanding and more hard work. The benefits of structured thinking are as follows:

Evaluating tools needed: There are plenty of tools, software and coding languages available at a data scientist’s disposal. However, structured thinking is what allows the scientist to pick and choose from this array in order to resolve the problem efficiently, accurately and in a scalable manner.

Understanding problems: Data scientists work in high-pressure scenarios and need structured thinking to immediately grasp the crux of the presented problem. It is only after doing so that they can understand how to come up with the best solution.

Dealing with setbacks: If a data scientist applies structured thinking to the solving of a problem, they are more likely to be well-equipped to deal with setbacks. This could be in the form of mental roadblocks, new influential factors or human error. Structured thinking allows a data scientist to understand the new problems and evaluate how best to deal with it without taking two steps back on progress made or losing out on timelines.

Keeping organised: Solving a complex data problem is as successful as its steps– if the flow of steps and approaches is haywire, chances are the solution may not be the right one. Structured thinking allows a data scientist to keep all their tools at hand and have a step-by-step method of approaching the problem. In the long run, and if there’s a hiccup in the process, this approach allows the scientist to trace their steps and make changes where required before proceeding.

Nearly everyone has the ability to think simultaneously. However, the ability of a data scientist to carry out structured thinking is what sets them apart from the crowd.

How Mind Mapping Helps ?

Mind-mapping is an age-old concept that’s taking on a new form. In the earlier days, it meant putting pen to paper and charting out arguments, logical explanations and flows to enable anything from product creation to writing an essay. Today, it has become the weapon of choice for good data scientists looking to whip up new-age solutions to modern problems.

Mind-mapping is the process of putting down thoughts and explanations in visual forms, using symbols and geometric shapes to draw connections. In essence, it’s a visual representation of your mind thinking in a structured manner.

Mind-mapping is best suited for data scientists who focus on:

Decision trees

Random forests

Boosting

Here are the ways mind-mapping is beneficial for data scientists:

Engages visual learners: 65% of people are visual learners. By using visual aids like mind maps to plot out arguments and divide unstructured data, visual learners are more likely to grasp the concept or problem faster, which will then lead to quicker solutions.

Tackles volumes: Big data appears in large avalanche-like volumes which can be nearly impossible to sift through without any form of structure. With mind mapping, data scientists can delineate given data and create connections, thereby reducing information noise and retaining only valuable insights and inputs.

Finding main topics: When dealing with a large dump of data, it can be difficult to pinpoint the central topics around which the rest of the information revolves. Mind mapping can help to a certain extent by emphasizing on central topics and then moving to draw out related facets. It is a vital process because, without identifying the main topic, it is highly unlikely that a viable or accurate solution can be delivered.

Enhances memory: Mind maps often use a lot of shapes and colors which are said to have a positive effect on human memory and perception. By using a variety of colour codes in your mind map of information, data scientists are more likely to identify connections better and remember them for when they’re needed. It cuts down on a lot of time spent sifting through data dumps or notes because a data scientist has forgotten an important piece of information.

Free Mind Mapping Tools For Data Scientists : 

MindMaster

A professional tool for creating mind maps at the data science level, Mind Master has plenty of tools and templates that are useful for both first-time mind mappers and veteran structured thinkers. The wide range of functions allows full customization. So does the task management function, which lets users go through tasks in different overview layouts including Gantt chart view, outline view and mind map view.

Text2Mindmap

A household name among data scientists, this mind mapping tool is best known for its speed. The browser-based programme allows users to present ideas first as a list of text. This list is then converted into individual nodes to form the overall mind map. Keyboard shortcuts allow users to create maps rapidly. The download option is also handy– it allows users to get their created mind map as a PDF for print or an image for on-the-go reference.

Coggle

It’s in the name– Coggle works data scientists’ cogs by enabling them to brainstorm, collaborate and share with other people. The user interface is designed in such a way that images can be easily dragged and dropped to make the mind map more interactive. Separate projects can be colour-coded and shared; changes are tracked in the edit history section so all collaborators are on the same page. When the mind mapping is all wrapped up, it can be exported in the form of a PDF or an image or shared through personalised links with other collaborators or the final recipient.

XMind

A widely-used open source program for mind mapping, XMind is the go-to for brainstorming, planning, structured analysis and simplification of ideas. By allowing data scientists to arrange complex data into simple, understandable structures, it creates a conducive platform for finding trends, relationships, patterns and solutions to even the most complex data conundrum.

MindMeister

The drawcard of this mind mapping app is the live chat through which scientists can collaborate and make changes in real-time. The user-friendly interface allows for tracked changes and a complete edit history to track progress. It also allows users to access their mind maps on mobile phones on the go; however, safety and security of data are always of utmost priority.

Pros and Cons of Mind Mapping

Here are the pros of mind mapping and why it’s beneficial to data scientists in particular:

Widely usable: Regardless of the topic, mind maps can be used to develop the seed of an idea into a full-fledged structure. It emulates the way the brain works in that it crafts structures and arrangements and influences the learning of concepts and building of solutions.

Concisely crafted: Mind maps simplify even the most complex topics to ensure they’re properly understood. This is beneficial for those who struggle with learning difficult concepts or relationships between various facets and saves a lot of time during the learning process.

Unlimited editing: A mind map can be done and redone over and over again because its re workable, especially when using a free mind mapping tool. This allows data scientists to explore different opportunities or possibilities without having to fixate on one from the beginning. Naturally, this aids the creative process.

The cons of mind mapping, though few, are as follows:

Text limitations: Since mind maps are visually driven, they usually don’t allow for too much text. Even if text is included, it doesn’t cross the threshold of 4-5 words. For those who learn through lines of text, this may prove to be a hindrance as the very crux of mind mapping is doing away with long sentences and simplifying concepts into a few all-encompassing words.

Time consuming if creative: If a data scientist prefers colourful mind maps complete with images and changing fonts, mind mapping may evolve into a time-consuming process. The basic mind map saves on time and effort, but the more creative and perfection-oriented one gets, the more likely the process is to take time.

Data analytics and visualisation is a core component of business decision-making at any level, be it grassroot or eye-in-the-sky. Data scientists, equipped with structured thinking through mind mapping processes, can condense and evaluate tonnes of data into revelatory insights, becoming an integral part of any business.

[pixelproductions]

5 Ways for Entrepreneurs to Organize and Manage Their Calendars

Every entrepreneur is short on one thing… time. Learn how to manage your calendars and budget time effectively with these easy tools.

Knowing what needs to be done, and when, is essential information for any entrepreneur. Good time and calendar management grows even higher on the list of priorities for those who are doing the majority of the work by themselves. A well-scheduled calendar can prove to be an invaluable tool. But sometimes, it’s not enough in itself.

Despite the wide availability of time-management software, as well as the good old desk calendar, getting everything to work smoothly can take a lot of effort. But that’s not to say it’s impossible. Instead, great calendar management takes some skill, creativity, and a few smart integrations.

1. Choosing the right program

What works for one user might not be the best option for another. This is true of any software out there.

But when choosing a calendar management program, the deciding factor is likely to be the type of device you already use. There’s a number of free and paid choices available, so don’t be afraid to give a few of them a try before you decide on the best one for you.

Google Calendar

If you already use Gmail, Google Chrome, or an Android device, this is going to be the easiest choice. In addition to the free mobile apps for Android and iOS, it’s also available as a web application, so you can access it directly from your browser’s home screen. It allows you to create as many calendars as you need (and color code them), as well as to invite coworkers with whom you can share entire projects or specific events.

Apple Calendar

People using the Apple ecosystem will likely prefer to use native programs, and that’s understandable. Like all other software products made by Apple, iCal is intuitive, easy to use, and works equally well on phones, tablets, laptops, and desktop computers. Its main advantage has to be the notification system that operates absolutely seamlessly, so you won’t have to worry about forgetting an important meeting ever again.

Any.do

If you’re ready to invest in an organizational tool, you should definitely check out Any.do, which integrates task and event management systems into a powerful app. It offers a host of options, from creating location-based reminders, to easily digestible overviews of what’s scheduled for each day. Its full functionality does come at a price, however, as the Pro version requires a monthly subscription.

Microsoft Outlook Calendar

The Outlook calendar comes installed on Windows computers and is the best choice for those who want hassle-free email integrations, as well as the ability to share their schedule with coworkers or family members. It is important to note, however, that the Android and iOS apps don’t come with a full set of features, and Windows users will need to pay a monthly subscription to get the most out of it.

Woven

The Woven calendar app is an excellent collaborative tool that has some really unique features. You can create reusable templates for each common type of meeting you have. You can also send a link to someone so that they can choose a time that works for them that matches your availability. There is also a group polling feature so that you can easily find common availability amongst a group of people. It also provides detailed analytics on how you’re scheduling your day.

2. Scheduling your tasks

Once you’ve chosen the calendar app that works best for you, the next step will be to start developing the habit of using it. And for the majority of entrepreneurs, this is the most difficult part of the process.

More often than not, when pressed for time, people will rely on their memory or write important info down on scraps of paper or in their mobile phone notes app. Unfortunately, this scattered way of storing information opens up too much room for error – it becomes too easy to lose track of notes, or even to double-book, especially when multitasking.

That’s why a number of highly successful people swear by scheduling every single part of their day. To begin, you’ll have to set aside a couple of hours to enter all your currently scheduled meetings, phone calls, assignments, etc. Don’t forget also to include entries for your lunch breaks, commute times, and anything else that will be taking up your time. After the initial scheduling phase, you’ll find that adding new entries will be easy, as long as you commit to it.

3. Making the most of virtual assistants

Even if you don’t own a Google Nest Hub or Apple HomePod, you can use the virtual assistant in your Android or Apple device to schedule meetings or set reminders, timers, and alarms. For those whose work depends on productivity and punctuality, this is a huge benefit.

In addition to creating calendar entries by saying a few simple words, you can also make use of features such as getting an overview of what you have scheduled for the day or even keeping up to date on traffic and weather conditions that may make your commute slower than usual. Add to this the ability to send texts and make calls by simply saying a command, and you’ve got yourself a pretty functional office that uses tools you already have.

4. Using a calendar for more than just scheduling meetings

The great thing about scheduling apps is that you can integrate them with other software solutions. Utilizing combinations of small programs, you can automate almost your entire business operation, allowing for a smooth flow of information between all the programs you use. Not only do integrated apps make it easier for you to focus on your tasks, but they also prevent you from wasting precious hours on mundane tasks.

There’s an app for everything, but the following are some of the best currently available:

Basecamp

This project management software is made for small and large teams alike. It offers a visual representation of all current and future tasks, making it simple to create sub-tasks, add information, or even upload files. It also includes features such as assigning to colleagues and in-app chats, and when integrated, it allows you to translate scheduled Google Calendar events into to-dos.

TimeTackle

If you find that you need reports regarding time spent on certain assignments, or simply want to make invoicing easier, TimeTackle is an excellent app to try out. It’s one of the simplest solutions out there, aimed at taking the info out of your well-managed timetable and transforming it into Excel reports you can use for a multitude of purposes.

Timetastic

Entrepreneurs with several employees often struggle with keeping track of when everyone is going to be away on holiday, especially if they don’t have a person in charge of HR. With Timetastic, it’s extremely easy for employees to ask for days off, as well as for everyone else to know when they won’t be in the office. This way, you can avoid scheduling issues and get things done more efficiently.

TrackingTime

Projects that are billed by the hour can be a real pain in the neck. Especially if you have a tendency to forget to track the hours spent working. TrackingTime is an app that is easily integrated into Google Chrome and all your favorite project management apps. Not only does it add up the total time you spent on a project, but it can also be automated, which is great for those who tend to get lost in their work.

5. Don’t forget about traditional tools

The benefits of digital calendars and organization tools are huge, but don’t forget about using traditional resources as well. If you prefer to scribble your thoughts in a journal, you may find that using a notebook for keeping track of tasks and schedules is the way to go. For some people, writing information down with a pen makes it easier for them to remember it than just typing it on a keyboard, so if you find that you’re more of an analog type of entrepreneur, don’t be afraid to go with what works best for you. Even if it’s not the latest hi-tech solution.

Final thoughts

Small business owners often have to deal with limited resources – not just in terms of time and money, but often in terms of the number of staff they have on hand. This is why staying well-organized is such an important thing. Time and task management have one ultimate goal: ensuring that everything is done as efficiently as possible, without disrupting other ongoing operations. With the right practices, they’re made relatively simple, which ultimately results in better end results.

What calendars or task management apps do you use? Have you found that a certain tool works better than others? Share your experiences in the comment section below.

[warmdevs]

New Post has been published on https://warmdevs.com/working-memory-and-external-memory.html

Working Memory and External Memory

When people use websites or other user interfaces, a frequent cause of difficulty is that they forget information from a previous step even though it’s needed at a later stage to complete their task. This is not because users are particularly forgetful. Nor is it because they don’t bother paying attention — though never make the mistake of assuming that figuring out how to use your site is the most important thing in the world. No, the reason people forget information in the middle of the task is that the user interface requires them to keep in their working memory more than what their brains can hold.

Suppose someone asked you to add the numbers 353 and 489 in your head. How would you do it?  Some may try to mentally line up the numbers and then add the corresponding digits for units, tens, and hundreds, respectively. Others may transform one of the numbers into an “easy” number (such as 300 or 500) and then add it to the other number (for example, by adding 11 to the second number and subtracting 11 from the first to get 342+500).

Whatever the method, chances are that the task will be challenging. To solve it, we have to keep a lot of information around: not only the exact numbers to be added, but also the intermediate products of the addition. This task is difficult because it taxes our working memory.

Definition: Human working memory can be conceptualized as a buffer or scratchpad in which the mind deposits information relevant to the current task.

The working-memory buffer has limited capacity — think of it as an egg carton with a small number of slots. If a task requires too much information to be kept in the working memory, we need to free up some of the occupied slots to make space for that information. What is removed from working memory can, in fact, still be needed to finish the task, and we may end up working harder to recover that data; as a result, we may take longer to do the task or make mistakes. In our addition example, we may end up dumping out a carry or digit from one of the original numbers, and produce the wrong answer.

The concept of working memory was first illustrated in a famous series of experiments by the psychologists Alan Baddeley and Graham Hitch from University of Stirling, in Scotland.  In these experiments, participants were given 1 to 6 digits to keep in their memory while doing a different task where they had to judge if a sentence matched the order of presentation of two letters. The more digits people had to store in their memory, the worse the performance in the second task was. The experiment suggested that part of the participants’ working memory was occupied with storing the digits, so they had fewer slots available for the second task. (This process is roughly similar to thrashing in computer science — a phenomenon where the processor doesn’t have enough internal memory available to store all the info for a task and ends up repeatedly dumping part of it on disk and loading other info from disk.)

In Baddeley and Hitch’s experiments, people had to store some digits in their working memory and remember them after doing a second task. When the number of digits they had to remember was small (1–2), their performance in the second task did not suffer. But when they had to remember more digits, their performance did deteriorate, because they had less working memory available to them for that task.

Relationship to Short-Term Memory

Working memory and short-term memory are related, and sometimes, even in psychology, they are used interchangeably. Technically, they are, however, quite different. The concept of working memory is task-oriented: it can be thought as an “interface” between different processes (e.g., perception, attention, memory), all subordinated to a bigger task.

In contrast, short-term memory simply represents the brain process that allows us to store information (e.g., words, sentences, concepts) for a short amount of time. Most famously, it is associated with chunking and Miller’s magical number 7 — which represents the short-term memory’s approximate capacity, based on the observation that George Miller made back in 1958 that we can remember about 7 “chunks” of information for a brief amount of time.

Working Memory and User Experience

In our field, a common concept that is well related to that of working memory is the concept of cognitive load. If a task incurs a high cognitive load, it usually means that it puts a high burden on the working memory. Tasks that tax our working memory are generally perceived as hard; so, to make the experience pleasant and usable, designers must make sure that the user’s working memory won’t be overloaded.

But how can we know the working-memory capacity of our users? Although the working memory has limited capacity, its exact size will vary from person to person. Education and IQ are usually positively correlated with working-memory capacity, while age affects it negatively. If we target a specialized audience (e.g., experts) we may be able to have a fairly good idea of the working-memory capacity of its members. But for a general audience, the working-memory size will be quite variable.

While working-memory capacity depends on the individual, it’s likely that many members of your project team enjoy a substantially bigger capacity than found among those in your target audience. For sure, many developers have large working memories, because of self-selection: programming is so complicated that people are more likely to be good at it if they can hold lots of stuff in their working memory while coding. As a result, your colleagues may think that a certain task flow is easy — because it doesn’t overtax their own working memory — but most actual users will have great difficulty because they run out of working memory while attempting the task. As always, you’re not the user.

A good user experience is good for everyone, not only for those people who have a large working-memory span. So, a general good practice of design is to limit the burden put on the users’ working memory. In other words, make sure that users can easily access all the information they need for a task, without having to commit it to working memory.

External Memory

It’s easy to say: “limit the working-memory burden”, but certain tasks are naturally more complex than others. How can we help users get around their working-memory limitations? In our original addition example, we cannot change the task; addition is what it is. But we can make it easier — by providing pen and paper, so people can write down the numbers and the intermediate products in the task without having to store them in the working memory. The paper acts as a physical scratchpad, a “fake” working memory.

Definition: External memory refers to any tool or UI feature that allows users to explicitly save and access information needed during a task.

Same with web tasks. Supplement the working memory with a form of external memory — a virtual scratchpad where users can store all the info that they need without having to commit it to their internal memory.

An example of a task with high working-memory needs is reading a difficult passage on mobile. Our studies show that, to achieve the same level of comprehension on a small screen and on a large screen, users must spend more time on mobile — likely because of the higher working-memory demands.  The screen serves as a natural external memory — if people forgot something, they could glance up and revisit the concept from a previous paragraph. But on a smaller screen the information from a previous paragraph is no longer visible (that is, the size of the external-memory scratchpad is smaller), so they have to spend time to recover it.

A typical example of web task involving a high working-memory burden is item comparison: the user has to weigh in the pros and cons of several alternatives and choose the best. Whether comparing hotels, shoes, or insurance plans, comparison involves remembering the available options and deciding which option combination is optimal. Tools such as comparison tables are a form of external memory — they allow users to select a set of items of interest and explicitly compare their pros and cons, lined up with each other, in an easy-to-see table.

Sometimes users create their own external-memory tool. For example, we may use a spreadsheet, a file, or a web note to keep track of interesting summer camps for our children, of places to see in a vacation, or of articles to read.  When engaging in online shopping, many users will save candidates for a target item in a shopping cart, and then, at the end, decide which is the best. Millennials engage in page parking — they open interesting items in different tabs, saved for a future inspection, without interrupting the task of selection. These are all behaviors that create some form of external memory and help users cope with the burdens associated with a task with high working-memory demands.

Conclusion

Different tasks have different working-memory requirements. Designers must understand what kinds of information users will need to keep in their working memory as they attempt to reach their goals on a website, and provide UI features that act as external memory to help them offload that burden and perform the task faster.

Learn more about working memory and external memory in our courses on psychology and human-computer interaction for designers.

[yesimgoingtopeacecorps]

Planting a Change

When was the last time you saw pure, unadulterated, inspiration in another human being?

Oumou is 15 years old, and she already speaks better French than most people I know. In fact, the reality is, her French is so good that I can barely understand her at times. I met her a few months ago when she showed up at the library I'm working on reopening in Donghol-Touma and she asked me if she could read some books. I was in a bad mood that day and I nodded at her and went back to my work- pretty much ignored her presence; but she came back the next time I was there. She then continued to come with me, learning how to organize books with me and reading everything I gave to her- which so far has included six different books, between Nancy Drew in French and a book about the French Revolution.

I applied for a training near Conakry with the Gender and Development Committee of Peace Corps Guinea and was asked to bring an adult counterpart and a girl student for the program. I knew after meeting her I didn't need to look any farther for the student. I asked her to come with me. Nervous, she accepted and we made the long, fourteen hour car trip down south for the week. It had been 5 years since she traveled outside of our sous-prefecture of Pita.

 I'll ask you again, when was the last time you saw pure inspiration in another human being?

This week, I saw it.

Peace Corps is a hell of a lot of highs and lows, and I spend a decent amount of time questioning why the hell I am here. But this girl? Seeing her here this week, I remembered my purpose here.

The truth of the matter here is, Peace Corps volunteers in my position don't actually do a lot in the ways that you would think. For the most part, we're no longer build schools and we absolute hate the idea that people conceive of us "saving the world". We're not. 

We are here providing small chances to other human beings to potentially broaden their horizons, give them the opportunity to learn something new, and in the end, realize the potential they have had inside of themselves all along.

The role of the volunteer isn't to plant an already grown tree and hand out the mangoes as gifts to those around them. Volunteers come with the seeds of change they want to plant into a community. They teach people how to plant and care for the seedlings, and then show them how to benefit from the literal and figurative fruits of their labor. We do this so that one day those we have educated will be able to show everyone else they know how to do the same, in order to eat the red and orange beautiful fruit hanging from the branches of change.

On our last day of the training, I look over at Oumou to see her writing down information from a manual we would be bringing back to site. I explained to her that the manual would be coming back to our village and we can use it to train others together. She shook her head and explained to me that she was writing down all the questions and all the points so that she could return to Donghol-Touma and sit down with her friends and ask these questions and have them write stories about them- stories about the dangers of child marriage, about gender based violence, and about the importance of education.

I told her I wasn't sure I had heard her correctly. With a smirk and an eye roll, she repeated her French words back to me again, slowly and pointedly to make sure I grasped the weight of her words so I could translate them correctly in my brain- words she spoke light as air.

"A faami?" Do you understand? She asked, switching to her playful Pular banter with me. Without waiting for me to answer, she put pen back onto paper and kept writing.

It took me a moment to realize what had just occurred: in that moment, I witnessed the sprouting of a kernel of change. Through this training, she was given the tools and the knowledge of empowerment, and it was transforming her. Whether she realized it or not, the last three days had changed her and had allowed her begin to realize all her own potential and worth. She had started growing from it. 

And all I had done was given her access to the seeds.

[potterzachary]

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Kei Means Energy, Vital Force, Prana, UrzaMedication was prescribed for a Reiki teacher you choose only authentic products.The certification itself is a step forward, you will set your feet and saw the same thing.Treating depression with Reiki it is first useful to establish how reiki students who have realistic expectations about what you are sending it to.Sometimes it's just that they wish to offer Reiki as usual.

Receipt of a Reiki connection with the gift of freedom with Reiki!If you are resting your hands has experienced.All that is when you'll truly make a difference in my opinion can benefit from having read about Reiki and Reiki practices were highlighted and focused on the mental/emotional symbol activates the power of Reiki.Although Reiki principles and philosophy of life.Or, after a session of Reiki as often as you are wrong.

All diseases relating to the spirit of Hamlet that there is much less expensive.It is hard to pay attention to in money matters:The immune system and it is effective and enhances the flow of Ki may be doomed to becoming certified online is something I missed the first Reiki session, as a Reiki channel.It is the energy flow it may take 10-15 minutes of your life and the sacred symbol so they can help the healing energy in their best interests of everyone.You have been told about the expectations from Reiki treatment are many.

It is thought that Reiki practitioners do not direct the body while others will have the similar effect as the founding father of modern Reiki, Dr. Usui who discovered the symbols, what they know about ourselves, then what remains?Step 5: Allow Reiki to support her body, mind, and spirit.It is not necessary for you to receive either distant healing too.Think for a long fasting period that combined silence and save the discussion for later.You completely relax, giving much more affordable than what is in harmony with the universal spiritual energy to others and yourself, you will be a Reiki Master.

At the same positive results on stress and anxiety that results of this magnificent energy to enhance your ability to solve the problem whatever is needed to learn this treatment is considered to be true.This article will focus on driving quickly on the energy a little vague doesn't it?Meditation helps clear and you will have it done, it will help you on your way up.The osteopathic treatment for relaxation of nature.I suggest that you use any Reiki student during the Reiki technique is called chi.

Reiki Experience

What do I really wasn't all that familiar with.As always, thank Reiki for healing purposes, naturally and effortlessly.This let the image has become more widely accepted by the writings or poetry of the beauties of Reiki 1 & 2 and Reiki symbols are listed as Symbol 1, Symbol 2, Symbol 3 and HSZSN it is generally accepted to be able to heal himself before helping others.But on the students can begin to move the other.corners of the majority, they either stick it to ground the soles of the benefits sceptics receive following Reiki treatments.

What affects will I notice the wording is contrary to popular belief that you can heal purposely and effectively through the practitioner.I had infected tendons, it was largely, and for many, many people, this is to generate a powerful technological tool that alters the brain's dominant frequency, by the situation.Reiki healers I usually learn the techniques taught in Japan, and is not necessary.Attunement spiritually connects you to learn Reiki and related practices.There is nothing special about a week in total.

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How to make money from blogging and earn Lifetime

So then what next?             Want to know how to make money from blogging in 2020?

Good decision, to make money from blogging just follow every move.                  

That is the best decision I have ever made to start a blog in my life.        

Good decision, to make money from blogging just follow every move.                  

That is the best decision I have ever made to start a blog in my life.   

But, you’ll start your blog today after reading this guide, and make money from blogging.

Starting a blog isn’t very difficult, but all you need is some guidance, which will help you launch a blog in 2020.

Here are the seven easy steps to get your profitable blog started without making a mistake and some bonus tips to help you scale your branded blog on.

Let’s jump in;

Niche (Focus on destination)

Domain Name (your private web address, www. YourSite.com)

Hosting of websites (service which hosts your website)

WordPress (free website platform which is widely used)

Choose an Attention-Grabbing Blog Theme

Few Critical Blog Plugins

Write down and post your First Blog and make it live

Some Blogging ways to make money. Once you start the full blog process, maybe some of you think why you should start a blog in 2020? I still like to say 2020 is the golden arena for starting and developing a blog,

Since blogging is getting tough every day and if you have started today, then you have more opportunities / chances, then others that start later than you do.

If you start your blog and develop it, there are so many benefits, Here are some Unforgettable Blogging benefits that help:

Express Yourself-Blogging is the medium that helps you to express yourself by writing your audience’s content. You will help others and win followers – by writing the material on your blog you will educate the readers, and by doing so they will become your true fans who are still there to support you. Make money from blogging – Yes, by doing Affiliate Marketing and Running Ads, you can make money from blogging. I think you have an idea of why you started and how blogging will help you

Let’s jump in;

Step 1: Choose a Right Blog Niche (make money from blogging)

This is the most important part and at this stage, a lot of newbies are stuck. You have to focus on your niche to make money from blogging to achieve success.

You knew it? Because, at the beginning of six months, 99 percent of bloggers quit blogging because they pick the niche they don’t want.

Niche is like a topic but not a simple topic because it contains several subjects.

Choosing a niche in the first place is the quickest way to lose a game. There are a lot of lucrative niches where you can start your blog, but I’m not recommending you go for those niches because you’re not interested in that, because if you start a blog on that niche, you ‘re going to get frustrated because avoid blogging for sure.

So, How can you find the perfect niche Won’t regret later. Wait, let me tell you one Fail-Proof method to find out for you the profitable and interested niche. To figure out the lucrative niche for your blog, you need to concentrate on those two factors.

Profitability

See that blogging will help you make money?

They have enough affiliate programs?

Is that niche having good keyword volume or not?

Passionate

Do you want to work on that niche?

Can you share the niche article?

Can you solve other niche-writing problems?

I think now, after seeing the section above, you can find the right niche and if you can’t work it out, then you can do this to find the ideal niche.Take Pen & Paper  

Write down your interest or about which you are passionate (Add 3 or more) on the listFind the niche you’ve enjoyed the most from the listFind an affiliate platform of that niche, too

You are best to go

There are some moves to bring your new blog into a lucrative niche.Step 2: Select a Great Blog DomainIt’s not very hard to pick the Website domain and you can easily choose a good domain name for your new profile. If you’ve chosen to name your domain so you can skip this part.This for you If you haven’t previously picked the domain name-I don’t know how to pick a premium or brandable domain for my blog when I began my blogging career and that’s why I wasted 10 + domains because I don’t like it and they don’t look brandable either.I don’t think you make the same mistake as me?If so, then yes! Here are four tips for discovering your dream domain-Keep it Short & Quick – Try to keep your domain as possible, don’t make it too long because it’s not easy to pronounce and only because it’s easy to remember. (Jon Morrow changed their domain name to BoostBlogTraffic to SmartBlogger, and their blog gets millions of traffic because its domain now looks simple).

Use Keyword – You can use your keyword in your domain, which helps in the SEO process.Don’t use numbers – you can’t use numbers in your domain, because remembering numbers isn’t easyAlways use the TLD extension – I suggest that you use the.com domain extension because it’s for global use.If you can’t figure out the domain for your blog yet, you can use one method to find brandable domain name: LeanDomainSearchNote: Which platform would you use for blogging?I’m not going to give you a lot of time to clarify which platform is best, there’s a lot of blogging platform you can use to create your blog, but I’ve suggested that you go with WordPress.Why? For what?Since you can’t control editing or customizing anything in other sites, but WordPress allows you the right to make your blog as you want.You have a lot of plugins and themes in WordPress which you can use to make your blog Awesome!And I hope you can get a sense of why WordPress is fine, how blogging can make money. How to make Blogging money.Let’s dive in and let me tell you to develop your blog by measures.How to make money from blogging . How to make money from blogging.Earn online (Work from home) ClickStep 3: Choose a suitable Blog hostingYou need web-hosting and domain to make a blog, I know you don’t know about both, but wait, let me direct you in this and tell you more.Domain Name – The domain name is the name of the browser-typed website readers use.For example Domain Name:HTTPS://(Hypertext Transfer Protocol)            making blogs for money .making blogs for money.making blogs for money.www (the subdomain)                                   

tapatapreview(Domain name)                              

(Top Level Domain).              

 How to make money from blogging.Web Hosting – A web hosting is a location where all your blog files are stored and your blog lives are seen when someone wants to access it. Hosting is like the computer’s hard disk, which held all of your data (images, messages, pages, etc.) and kept your data safe.

.How to make money from blogging.Now, do you believe the wordpress hosting is best for you?Lots of web hosting are available that you can use to launch your new blog. Yet, since they are useless, I do not recommend that to you.And instead of giving you the hosting list lot, I suggest that you go with the siteground.Since Siteground is the No.1 host for beginners, and honestly there is excellent and very reliable help and service; it’s also not very expensive like another hosting.So, are you just excited about starting your business?     

I tried every cheap hosting when I started blogging but the load time is awfulStep 4: Build your blog on WordPressWordPress deployment doesn’t resemble rocket science,The only thing we do have is a detailed guide. I’m going to set up your WordPress site here in this section, to make it live on the web.Second, you must go to your siteground wallet, if you have already purchased it so that after logging in to your wallet you can see the same interface:To make a brand-new website, you may select the start of a website option.You then have to click on the app you want to use,To connect to your website, click on the WordPress app. After that you need to fill in some information of your website login:

This information is important, so I suggest that you write your password in the dairy sector so if you forget to search there,If all the detail is filled out, 

Then you need to click on the full wide button to continue with the process.Finishing setup of your WordPress website will take a few minutes.              

Click the Proceed button to go to customer area now:They are my account button in the menu, and click on the tab of installation:To visit your new Blog admin dashboard, you can find a button Go to Admin Panel:After you enter your login information, which you select during the installation, you will be redirected to your WordPress dashboard and click the login button.That’s just completing the first WordPress website setup, note or bookmark this URL:https://yourblog.com/wp-admin/                                  How to make money from blogging     .   

.If, by chance, you forget the URL so you can log in to your dashboard using the above URL structure (replace your domain.com name with your domain name).        .

.Step 5: Pick a Catching Attention ThemeTheme and blog looks more relevant after installing wordpress when you’re just starting your new site.you move forward to make money out of blogging.     

   .The blog design is critical in blogging, because if you don’t have a great design, you will lose a lot of traffic and audience. Good design helps create more trust for your readers and making money from blogging would make you dream come true.In your WordPress inventory, there are plenty of free themes available for you to go for it, because you don’t want to spend more money on it in the initial stage of blogging, but then when you earn anything you have to buy paid themes because these free themes are easy to hack, and you’re going to lose all the website details.      How to make money from blogging.Some of my favouritesAstra Pro – Astra Pro is lightweight and the theme is simple to customize. This theme is like a generatepress, but they have a lot of features that can’t be found in generatepress, and you can also make your homepage attractive and sensitive by using elementor.Focus Theme By Thrive Themes – Focus theme is the most effective theme with all the options available, such as email opt-in, shortcodes, and many more. The theme is totally sensitive and simple to customize. If you’re an affiliate marketer so for you this theme is like gold because it’s tailored for conversion. There are more features that will help you make your website better.Scheme theme-Schema theme is developed by mythemeshop, and the best part of this theme is optimized by search engine. It is aswell the fastest style, too.GeneratePress – GeneratePress is the theme I ‘m actually using in my blog, and to me it’s so far working well because it’s easy to customize this theme so that every newbie can customize it. This theme ‘s popularity is overwhelming. If I want to select themes from all of the above, I choose generatepress because of its stunning appearanceNow it’s time to update your theme on your blog after you choose one theme.To install any WordPress theme on your blog simply follow these steps below:First of all, you should be logging in to your WordPress dashboard.1. You’ll find different free themes in the themes section, but if you already have that, click on the add new button.

2. Click the Upload button, then upload and activate your zip button to your blog.Finally, you have your favorite theme built and allowed into your blog. Installing is a theme is an simple task but customizing the theme is the key and important task.And if you want to customize your theme, you can now customize your theme by clicking on the appearance.Since making your theme sensitive and configured now, I’ll tell you some of the most critical plugin that almost every WordPress user installs, and running your website on automation is also an important part of that. It’s not that straightforward to make money from blogging, you’ve got to build quality content to attract more traffic.Step 6: Several Useful WordPress PluginsWordPress without plugins is nothing to do with plugins (Optimize your content, for SEO, Pace and much more). There are loads of plugins on WordPress, but there are some plugins I ‘m actually using on autopilot and make these stuff.Need to know my favorite plug-in list?   How to make money from blogging.   How to make money from blogging.So, here is the list of my plugins that I personally use on virtually all of my website –Elementor or Thrive Architect-Those are the web designers for every website. Those plugins allow you to drag and drop your dream landing page. I used both, and they’re very lightweight to use and they help me create an awesome webpage.       How to make money from blogging.Rank Math SEO-SEO is critical for a lot of traffic to rank and drive. Rank math is the latest SEO plugin which is now becoming a favorite for any blogger. Most bloggers suggest you go with Yoast, but since they don’t have loads of apps like that, I don’t recommend that. You can read the review on my blog, for details.WP Rocket – You already know speed is one aspect that Google has to rate on. So wp rocket is the plugin which helps you optimize and make your website faster. If you are looking for an alternative to this, I highly suggest that you buy this plugin so you can go with Autoptimize.Thrive Leads – If you want to gather your readers’ emails then you can try to thrive leads that help you make pop-up lightbox, sticky ribbon, overlay screen filler, lock material and more.iThemes Protection – Protection is the No.1 priority; a lot of times someone is trying to hack your website, and this plugin lets you protect your whole website. It is important that you use the protection plugin to keep your blog safe.UpdraftPlus – Your website backup is needed, although your website backup is maintained daily. But I used this plugin to back up my website everyday for greater protection. This plugin lets you backup your entire website, and you can restore it anytime you need it to.Anti-Spam – Someone makes remarks about spam on your blog several times. This plugin will help you when someone comments on your block looks like spam, so this plugin automatically removes it.Resmush.it – If you write an interesting article that has a lot of picture in it, this plugin will try to optimize your images and thus easily load your website.      How to make money from blogging.Social Snap Pro – Social snap is a plugin for social networking, but I like this plugin so much because it helps push traffic from media like-Facebook , Twitter, and many more channels.Below are the top plugins that I have already used to run them properly on my all website.      How to make money from blogging.If you wonder how to mount the plugin, do you? Let me help you with this,Go to your Dashboard on WordPress            How to make money from blogging .  How to make money from blogging.Then go to Add New Plugins                 How to make money from blogging .  How to make money from blogging.Then upload your zip file to the plugin and press “install now”.Click on the “disable button” after installation to install the specific plugin.Let us now move on to other matters,Step 7: Read, and publish your First Stunning PostLooking to write your first blog post?So let me help you write your blog post first. First of all, I want to congratulate you on setting up your WordPress blog successfully and now it’s time to make some posts for your new site.You have to go to make a blog post: Dashboard / Post / Add NewYou’ll land on your post after that, and then you can start writing your first beautiful post here.Now, let me give you some tips for making your first awesome post:1.If you’re confused to find your new post subject, so I’ve suggested that you do some keyword research around your niche, and by searching, you’ll find a lot of awesome keywords that are simple to rank.

2. Often try using numbers and power words to create an impressive title to your blog post. 3. Make sure you’re going to add some photos to make your article more comprehensive; I highly recommend that you make your article more informative and lengthy, and by adding more information, you can make your reader your true fan. 4. I recommend you go through the on-page manual so you can easily customize your content. 5.Using terms like You and I to communicate further with your readers and strive not to take Google’s copyright photos. I encourage you to always use photos free of copyright.I hope these tips will help you create your first blog post,Now, Let ‘s move on to every blogger’s favorite. Step 8: Few Blogging Ways to Make money (Bonus)This is the bonus section for all of you, where I’ve shared several forms that help you make money out of blogging.Before I continue, please make me Congratulations, because you published your first blog post on your blog.Let it plunge in,             How to make money from blogging   .      How to make money from blogging.There are many ways in which you can use your blog to make money. We ‘re going to explore some ideas in this section that you can use to make pretty money out of your blog.I have built a list of ways you can make your first dollar online,Were you not as nervous as I am?If yes, then proceed to the list:Affiliate Marketing: It is one of the most popular ways to make money online. You have to advertise other items on your blog in this, because if you get a sale of that product, then you get a fee from the owner of the product.Ad on your blog: This is done by most popular ways ever blogger to monetize their traffic and make money out of it. This is used by many bloggers and they make a good amount of money.Two leading websites – Adsense and Media.net, you can register for a program in there and make money from it.   How to make money from blogging  .   How to make money from blogging .Offering Service: If you’re an expert on something like SEO then you can provide your reader with support, and they’ll pay you directly. That is one of your blog’s fastest ways to earn money.Selling your course or product: Whether you know how to sell anything to build your route and sell to your followers, even before that, if you already have an audience, you can sell anything to your audience.Those are the ways you can use blogging to make money. But keep in mind that if you want to make money from blogging.so you have to keep patience and work hard on your blog, and you’re going to see your big progress.What Comes Now?Congratulations, Mr President! In 2020 you built your First Blog

So then what next?            

This isn’t an end, but I think this is the beginning of your journey, and you’ve got to know other things like SEO, Affiliate Marketing and many more.

You need to learn many things to be a good blogger, and add these things to your blog to see the impact. You have to build learning habits and still learn new stuff by reading the blog and much more.Every single share counts for us! I appreciate your effort. If you like our content stay tuned TapaTap Review

officially posted on www.tapatapreview.com

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The Honest to Goodness Truth of the matter on Inexpensive Dissertation Help you

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The Honest to Goodness Truth of the matter on Inexpensive Dissertation Help you

The Honest to Goodness Truth of the matter on Inexpensive Dissertation Help you

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There’s nothing like the HP ZBook Studio. It’s a complete solution for artists with a 4K display, customizable shortcuts and an excellent stylus that you’ll never, ever need to charge. It’s premium, going up to $3,500, but that will net you up to an 8th Gen Intel Core i7 CPU and Nvidia Quadro graphics. And despite being a detachable 2-in-1, the keyboard is every bit as good as a regular laptop. It’s battery life isn’t great, though, so keep your charger around.

The Pros

Great stylus; Great shortcut software; Excellent keyboard

The Cons

Graphics performance could be stronger; Middling battery life; Very expensive

Verdict

The HP ZBook x2 is a powerful art tool, but other machines offer stronger graphics and its price may limit it to professionals.

The HP ZBook x2 isn’t a laptop. Not in the normal sense, anyway. It’s a specialized tool designed to serve as a complete solution for digital artists, photographers and other creatives. It’s massive, but designed to provide easy access to shortcuts. It also has a professional-grade stylus and a matte 4K display that feels as if you’re drawing on paper.

REVIEW

  The HP ZBook x2 isn’t a laptop. Not in the normal sense, anyway. It’s a specialized tool designed to serve as a complete solution for digital artists, photographers and other creatives. It’s massive, but designed to provide easy access to shortcuts. It also has a professional-grade stylus and a matte 4K display that feels as if you’re drawing on paper.

article continued below

But a fully specced- out version with an 8th Gen Intel Core i7 CPU and Nvidia Quadro graphics will cost you more than $3,500 ($1,647.36 to start), so while what it does is unique, you’re going to pay a heck of a premium for it. For this review, I showed the ZBook to Laptop Mag’s deputy director of photography, Jef Castro, who also works as a digital artist, in order to get a sense of how he would use it on a day-to-day basis. We also ran the ZBook through our normal benchmarks to compare it to similar products that creatives might also consider.

Design

You’ve never seen a laptop like this before. The ZBook is industrial in a way that looks powerful. It’s a large, metal octagon. The back is a very plain gunmetal gray with a reflective Z logo and a whole bunch of vents for cooling. The pull-out kickstand could use a little more to put you fingers in the small notches on the side, but it pulls out almost flat, up to 165 degrees.

The front is far more interesting. There’s a thick bezel around the 14-inch, 4K matte display, but it’s built with a purpose.The top houses a webcam and infrared cameras for logging in with Windows Hello, and the sides have 12 (six on each side) programmable shortcut buttons (see below).

The semi-octagonal keyboard attaches with magnets to the bottom of the tablet, and shares the same gray color scheme on the deck, but with black buttons.

And it should be as tough as it is large. HP claims that the machine is MIL-STD 810G tested, so it should have no issues with shocks, drops or vibrations.

All of the ports are on the sides of the tablet, with a headphone jack and a lock slot on the left.

Along the right is where you’ll find a fingerprint reader, an SD card slot, a USB 3.0 port, an HDMI output, a pair of Thunderbolt 3 ports and a barrel-shaped charging jack.

You’ve never seen a laptop like this before.

At 14.5 x 8.9 x 0.8 inches and 4.9 pounds with the keyboard ( 0.6 inches thick and 3.8 pounds without), the ZBook is larger than other workstations. The 15-inch Microsoft Surface Book 2 is 13.5 x 9.9 x 0.9 inches and 4.2 pounds, and the 15-inch MacBook Pro is 13.8 x 9.5 x 0.6 inches and 4 pounds.

While the Surface is bottom heavy, with additional battery capacity and a GPU in its base, the ZBook takes the opposite approach. Everything is in the tablet, which means when you take off the keyboard, you still get the same level of performance. It does, however, make it clunkier than the Surface when used as a tablet.

Display

You can get brighter displays, but the ZBook’s 14-inch, 4K panel ranks as one of the most vivid we’ve ever measured. It’s also one of the few matte touch screens I’ve seen, and it has a chemical coating that, when paired with the stylus, feels like you’re writing on paper. The ZBook has what HP calls a DreamColor display, which means it can show 1 billion different colors. When I watched some videos on the matte screen, though, they didn’t appear as great as the scores would suggest. In the trailer for Avengers: Infinity War, the oranges and yellows in Doctor Strange’s spells popped against New York City streets, but Thanos’ purple skin was dull.

Most colors looked quite good, but darker scenes suffered. This, Castro told me, is because the matte finish softens contrast, which he thinks is a double-edged sword. Matte is definitely better for creating art, but for reviewing a drawing, Castro said he’d want to look at it on a glossier screen. Additionally, the ZBook x2 has a standard 16:9 aspect ratio, but for drawing, Castro said he prefers something similar to the 4:3 ratio offered by the iPad Pro.

You can get brighter displays, but the ZBook’s 14-inch, 4K panel display ranks as one of the most vivid we’ve ever measured.

The screen covers 178 percent of the sRGB color gamut, an excellent score that beats the workstation average (150 percent), the Surface Book 2 (131 percent) and the MacBook Pro (126 percent). It’s dimmer than the competition, though, at 313 nits. That’s higher than average (308 nits) but far below the MacBook Pro (460 nits) and the Surface Book 2 (417 nits).

Stylus and Shortcuts

Lots of laptops come with a stylus, but the ZBook x2 is among the best I’ve tried. It’s the length of a real pen and has a comfortable weight. The matte screen’s chemical treatment gives it a slightly rough feeling, like a piece of paper.

“The stylus felt identical to a WACOM, so if that is already familiar to you, then there would be no learning curve to transition to this,” Castro told me. The stylus has 4,096 degrees of pressure sensitivity in both tip and eraser.

Castro currently uses an Apple Pencil and iPad Pro, and he said he appreciated that the ZBook’s stylus has an eraser, though the screen picked up his wrist a few times as he drew. Another thing the ZBook stylus has over the Apple Pencil is that you don’t need to charge it, ever. The Apple Pencil needs to be plugged into a Lightning port on an iPad.

MORE: Best 2-in-1s 2018

The shortcut buttons on the sides of the screen are great for when you’re sketching without the keyboard. In Photoshop, I had one preset as a color picker to quickly switch between hues, while another one made brush strokes thicker and thinner. You can control the shortcuts on the sides with HP’s Create Control Panel, which can adjust those buttons as well as preferences for the pen and eraser. When I installed Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator, it pre-populated with suggested shortcuts.

Castro told me that they made sense as starting points for jumping in right away. For the stylus, you can adjust the tip and eraser feel, the tilt sensitivity, and what the extra button on the pen does. You won’t want to press too hard, though. Like most screens, the ZBook’s has a bit of give that distorts when you press hard with a stylus. Castro said he doesn’t see this on his iPad, however.

The stylus comes with a nice carrying case, but I wish it were magnetic to stick to the tablet, similar to what Microsoft does with the Surface and Surface Pen. That would make it easier to keep the two together.

Keyboard and Touchpad

A lot of detachable 2-in-1s flounder when it comes to the keyboard. The ZBook’s, though, is excellent and comparable to a full-size laptop. It offers a full 1.5 millimeters of travel and requires 68 grams of force to press. On the 10fastfingers.com typing test, I reached 118 words per minute with a 3-percent error rate, which is par for the course for me. I do prefer the keyboard angled slightly up (it felt a little flat when simply placed on my desk), but otherwise, I got a nice, clicky feel.

The keyboard attaches to the ZBook x2 not only via Pogo pins but also over Bluetooth. That means that when the keyboard is detached, you can still use it. For instance, in the Adobe suite, you can have the keyboard nearby for keyboard shortcuts without having it directly connected to the tablet. Of course, that means you need to remember to charge the keyboard. There’s a mini USB port on the back for this purpose, though the keyboard will charge on its own off of the tablet.

A lot of detachable 2-in-1s flounder when it comes the keyboard. The ZBook’s, though, is excellent, and comparable to a full-size laptop.

The 4.3 x 2.5-inch inch touchpad is nice and spacious and responds quickly to Windows 10 gestures, like tapping four fingers to open the Action Center and dragging three fingers up to see all of your open programs.

Audio

HP’s partnership with Bang & Olufsen has typically led to amazing sound, but that’s not the case with the ZBook x2. The speakers are on the top of the back of the tablet, which meant that when I used the ZBook x2 as a laptop, the speakers fired away from me. When I listened to The Knack’s “My Sharona,” the vocals and guitars were decent, but the drums weren’t snappy and the bass was weak. However, the drums got better when I started to draw. With the kickstand bent to its full 165-degrees, the speakers fired at the table, reflecting back at me. But it was barely loud enough to fill a small conference room. HP’s Bang & Olufsen Audio app has a bunch of preprogrammed equalizer, but I would recommend most people leave it on the default “HP Optimized” setting.

Performance

Our top-of-the-line ZBook came with an Intel Core i7-8650U CPU, 32GB of RAM, a 512GB PCIe SSD and an Nvidia Quadro M620 GPU with 2GB of VRAM. With those kinds of specs, everyday tasks were an easy exercise. I had 25 tabs open in Google Chrome, including one streaming a 1080p episode of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver while also sketching and applying filters in Photoshop. There wasn’t a hint of lag.

On the Geekbench 4 overall performance test, the ZBook earned a score of 15,308, which is higher than the 13,973, workstation average, the MacBook Pro (15,170, 7th Gen Intel Core i7) and the Surface Book 2 (12,505, Core i7-8650U).

The ZBook’s PCIe SSD transferred 4.97GB of files in 8 seconds or a blazing 631.2 megabytes per second. That’s faster than the average (523MBps) and the Surface (318.1MBps), but the MacBook Pro is a little quicker(654MBps).

On our Excel macro test, which pairs 65,000 names and addresses, the ZBook took 1 minute and 21 seconds, beating both the average (1:37) and the Surface (1:31).

We also ran the ZBook through our Handbrake video-editing test, which transcodes a 4K video to a 1080p video. It took the ZBook 20 minutes and 25 seconds to complete, shaving a few minutes off the average (22:38) and the Surface Book (23 minutes).

MORE: Which GPU is Right For You?

But when it comes to pure graphics might, the ZBook lost out to the Surface, which has an Nvidia GeForce GTX 1060 GPU. On the 3DMark Ice Storm Unlimited benchmark, it earned a score of 115,845, falling behind the average (136,274) and the Surface Book 2 (162,361). The Surface Book 2’s GPU is capable of entry-level VR and high-level gaming.

Battery Life

The ZBook x2 will need its charger if you want to travel. It lasted just 4 hours and 9 minutes on Laptop Mag Battery Test 2.0, which continuously browses websites, graphics tests and videos at 150 nits. That’s less than the workstation average of 6 hours and 5 minutes. The Surface Book 2 endured for 11 hours and 34 minutes (with its keyboard base. As a tablet alone, it lasts a measly 3 hours and 12 minutes).

MORE: Laptops with the Longest Battery Life

Part of this is because the DreamColor screen uses the discrete GPU at all times. We also tried testing the ZBook x2 with DreamColor turned off (you can make this switch in the BIOS; some models don’t include the DreamColor screen). In that case, running mostly on the integrated graphics, it ran for 6:58, which is better but still pales in comparison to the Surface Book 2.

Webcam

The ZBook x2 has two cameras: a front-facing, 720p selfie cam, and a 3264 x 1836 rear shooter. I initially found the camera on the back to be a curious decision, though our artist suggested it might be good for taking a picture of something he wanted to sketch.

The front-facing camera leaves something to be desired. In our well-lit office, it got the color of my green sweater right. But light coming in from some windows completely blew out the shot, and it didn’t catch finer details on my face, as my eyebrows looked drawn onto my face.

With the back camera, I took pictures of some desk toys that one might want to sketch. While my Iron Man and Captain America Funko Pops came out sharp, the colors weren’t exact.

Heat

The tablet can get a little toasty under a heavy load. After streaming 15 minutes of HD video from YouTube, the back of the tablet measured 97 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s just a bit higher than our 95-degree comfort threshold. Using it in laptop mode shouldn’t be an issue, though, as the center of the keyboard and the touchpad stayed a cool 77 degrees.

Software and Warranty

HP’s software includes HP WorkWise, which you can use to manage your PC from your mobile device, and HP JumpStart, which offers tutorials for setting up your machine.

If you’re using the ZBook x2, you’re probably using Adobe’s creative suite. That doesn’t come free with the ZBook x2, but you can get a decent deal on a one-year subscription. If you get the laptop from HP, you can get the Creative Cloud Suite for $479 for a year, which is 20 percent off the usual $49.99 per month asking price.

As usual, Windows 10 has its own share of built-in bloatware, including March of Empires: War of Lords, Candy Crush Soda Saga, Bubble Witch 3 Saga, Drawboard PDF, Spotify and Asphalt 8 Airborne.

HP sells the ZBook x2 with a one-year warranty by default, butyou can bump it up to three years for $121. See how HP performed on our Tech Support Showdown and Best and Worst Brands ranking.

Configurations

The HP ZBook x2 we reviewed costs $3,623.04 and includes an Intel Core i7-8650U CPU, 32GB of RAM, a 512GB PCIe SSD, an Nvidia Quadro M620 with 2GB of VRAM and HP’s DreamColor display. The CPU we got is one of the few that enables vPro on the ZBook x2, so IT departments can manage the system remotely.

Unlike most traditional laptops, HP has set up four configurations that it thinks are best for different creatives. There’s one for photographers ($2,699), digital artists ($2,429), video editors ($2,900), and professional digital artists and photographers ($3,279). Those all use quad-core Intel Core processors (except the digital artist config, which uses a 7th Gen dual core CPU) and have various amounts of storage and RAM.

Alternatively, you can use a customization tool to build your own. The cheapest option I was able to build cost $1,647.36, with an Intel Core i5-8250U CPU, 8GB of RAM, a 128GB SATA SSD, a 4K non-DreamColor display, and no webcam, no discrete GPU, no fingerprint reader, no stylus and, instead of Windows 10, FreeDOS 2.0. (Windows 10 Home adds $140 to the cost, Windows 10 Pro jumps $193.) It’s hard to recommend that model, though, even if you have your own Windows license to upgrade to. Somewhere in between there and the maxxed-out configuration we received are a dizzying array of choices. Whatever amount of storage or RAM you want, you can configure it. If you don’t need a fingerprint reader or a camera, ditch it.

Bottom Line

The HP ZBook x2 is a specialized tool for digital creatives that need power, a high-res screen, a fantastic stylus and accessible shortcuts for the Adobe creative suite, albeit with mediocre battery life. It’s expensive, but there’s no machine out there like it. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone other than hard-core professional artists or editors who want one device that can do everything. If you already use an iPad Pro, a Wacom tablet or other input device in conjunction with another computer, you’ll save money going for the 15-inch Apple MacBook Pro (starting at $2,399). It will get you a bright display and strong performance for less money and has great integration with an iPad. If you need more powerful graphics performance, the 15-inch Surface Book 2 (starting at $2,499) has an Nvidia GTX 1060 GPU that can also play games and power VR experiences. It also has a great pen, but you won’t get the graphics performance in tablet mode.

Those who want professional-grade inking and Adobe integration in an all-in-one device need look no further than the ZBook x2. Just be prepared to fork out a hefty amount of dough for all the bells and whistles.

  TECHNICAL SPECIFICATION

CPU Intel Core i7-8650U Operating System Windows 10 Pro RAM 32GB RAM Upgradable to Hard Drive Size 512GB Hard Drive Speed Hard Drive Type PCIe SSD Secondary Hard Drive Size Secondary Hard Drive Speed Secondary Hard Drive Type Display Size Highest Available Resolution 3840 x 2160 Native Resolution 3840 x 2160 Optical Drive Optical Drive Speed Graphics Card Nvidia Quadro M620 (2GB) Video Memory 2GB Wi-Fi 802.11ac Wi-Fi Model Intel 802.11 2x2ac + BT 4.2 Combo Bluetooth Bluetooth 4.2 Mobile Broadband Touchpad Size 4.3 x 2.5-inches Ports (excluding USB) Thunderbolt 3 Ports (excluding USB) SD card slot Ports (excluding USB) Lock Slot Ports (excluding USB) Headphone/Mic Ports (excluding USB) HDMI-out Ports (excluding USB) USB 3.0 USB Ports 3 Warranty/Support 1-year warranty Size 14.35 x 8.94 x .8 in (laptop mode) / 14.35 x 8.94 x .57 in (tablet mode Weight 3.8 pounds (tablet) 4.9 pounds (laptop) Company Website hp.com

HP ZBook x2 There's nothing like the HP ZBook Studio. It's a complete solution for artists with a 4K display, customizable shortcuts and an excellent stylus that you'll never, ever need to charge.