#and while this might not seem too consequential

[ctrlsht]

Who is in control?

pairing: jk x reader

genre: drabble au

summary: after having an argument with your boyfriend, he's anxious that you weren’t responding to his messages and the only thing that he can do is visit you in your university but you weren’t happy about it

content & warnings: toxic relationship, unhealthy behavior, possessive jk, stalking, manipulative behavior, lots of arguments, yandere-ish, college reader, son of the univ president & lawyer jk, secret relationship word count: 2.4k

Jungkook is anxious while waiting for you outside your room. He’s walking back and front while biting his nails and he can’t stop looking at the time every damn minute. He hasn’t heard from you since yesterday during lunch time and he can’t stop thinking the worst thing possible. When he gets tired, he just rests his back on the railings in front of the door you’re in as he bites the inside of his right cheeks. And when the door opens, he gets alerted and waits as you appear in front of him but when he doesn’t see you coming out, he gets more anxious.

“Is y/n inside?” He asked one of the students who came out.

“Yes, she’s inside.” A huge relief filled him when he heard that. He was so focused on waiting for you that he didn’t notice that people were staring.

“Isn’t that Jeon Jungkook?”

“Who?”

“The son of the president of the school.”

“Oh really? I didn’t know.”

As you step out of the room, the first thing you see is Jungkook standing meters away from you. He looked at you like he’s been longing for you for years already. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips were frowning and his eyes were pleading as he looked at you.

“Y/N!” He called and it caught some student’s attention. You immediately pulled his hands as you almost ran away from the crowd.

Getting caught with Jungkook is the least you expected to happen today. You might sound overreacting but you cannot risk it.

Jeon Jungkook, the son of the University’s President Jeon Byun Bin. One of the elite families in Seoul, South Korea. The last thing you want to happen is being associated with him. You were so careful with every move and decisions you make because reputation is consequential to you. You’re one of the scholars of this University and you wouldn’t want to take that away from you. Disappointing your family isn’t in your plan.

“Baby, wait! What’s with the rush?” He asks you while you’re pulling him at the back of your building and when you’re sure that no one’s around, you stop and face him with so much worry.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“You weren’t replying to my messages! I was so fucking worried I don’t even know what to do anymore!” He immediately closes the distance between the both of you as he hugs you. However, before he can even feel your warmth, you immediately distance yourself which he didn’t like.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I won’t be demanding from now on. I won’t nag you whenever you’re busy and I’ll try to be more understanding with your situation. I promise, I’ll be better. Just please forgive me!” He got both of your hands as he kissed them. You immediately pulled away. You were too agitated with the whole situation to even consider Jungkook’s feelings. You can’t stop looking around because people might see you with him. And of course, Jungkook noticed. As he saw more of your anxiousness, he felt like his heart was getting stabbed.

“Let’s fix this inside your car, okay?” You said as you looked around. Jungkook was staring at you because you looked uneasy while you’re with him. He knows the situation of the both of you yet he feels something is wrong. Why are you so scared? It seems like you’re hiding from someone. His heartbeat suddenly increased. No, it cannot be.

“No.” He firmly said. “Are you hiding from someone?” You suddenly looked at him with confusion.

“What the hell? Of course we’re hiding from everyone! Let’s go, Jungkook!” You passed through him but before you even walked away, he pulled your arm.

“Baby, I don’t wanna hide anymore!” Your blood suddenly went up when he said that. You don’t understand what’s with him. You don’t even understand why he’s here in the first place.

“What the fuck? Are you being crazy right now?” You pulled your arm from his grip.

“Yes I am! I’m going fucking insane right now because you’re making me feel that you’re cheating with me for fuck sake!”

Jungkook’s been feeling this ever since but this is the only time he has said it out loud. He doesn’t even like the idea of hiding the relationship of the both of you yet he complied because you wanted it. He tried to understand the whole situation of the both of you even though in the first place he doesn’t give a fuck. He doesn’t give a fuck about what the people say because he can literally kick the hell out if them in this goddamn university since he got the power to do so yet he chose not to. He chose to respect your decisions.

“What are you talking about? Haven't we already talked about this? We literally cannot be seen together, Kook! People will be suspicious!”

“For what? For just talking to you? You’re being paranoid!” He lashed out. You were startled and the only thing you did is stare at him until you realized you’re so fucking done with the whole situation. You didn’t say a single word when you turned around and started to walk. Jungkook suddenly panicked when you walked away. He immediately grabbed your hand which you pulled away.

“Y/N baby, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” From his growling voice, he immediately sounded like a kitten regretting what he said. He followed you but you weren’t stopping.

“Baby please, I’m sorry. Let’s talk about this properly. I didn’t mean to lash out.” He cannot fucked this up once again. You haven’t forgiven him from what he did yesterday and yet he created another mess. Jungkook is literally fucked up.

“You should leave.” You said while walking away.

“No, please baby. Let’s talk. I’m sorry.” His voice is getting softer and softer and he follows you. While you were walking, you saw a bunch of students ahead of you. You immediately walked backward to hide from them and pushed Jungkook away from you.

“Y/N, I won’t leave until we’ve fixed this.” He said while both of you were standing behind the tree. You looked at him as you rolled your eyes. He was about to caress your face but you blocked his hands.

“Fine! I’ll wait for you in the car.” You said as you walked away going to his usual parking lot.

There are a lot of things running in Jungkook’s head as you leave. Were you really hiding from someone? No, not from everyone; from a specific person. Are you really doing that? No, you can’t be. He made sure that no men will ever fucking touch you. He made sure of that. But why does he feel like the opposite? Why does he feel like you’re hiding something? Or is he just overthinking? He’d kill Jimin if he ever slipped anything.

Once Jungkook is inside the car, he’s all over you. He didn't waste any seconds as he immediately pulled your head and he pressed his lips on yours. “I fucking missed you.” He spoke in between his kisses and you opened your mouth to let him in. His right hand is at your back to support you while his left hand is pressing your head into him. While you’re both having your desperate kisses, Jungkook’s hands travel inside of your shirt but before he does something, you stop him.

“Baby why? I missed you so fucking much.” He whines as he tried to kiss you again but you pulled out.

“I didn’t come here to make out, Jungkook.” You said trying to avoid his kisses. As much as you love to make out with him in the car, this is not the right time.

“I’m sorry.” Is the only thing that he said before he sat properly. Silence fills both of you and you take the time to fix yourself while Jungkook’s been playing with his lips wanting more of your kisses.

“What are you doing in front of the lecture room? Seriously? Didn’t we talk about this?” You started.

“You weren’t replying to my texts and calls! I was so worried sick, Y/N!” After the argument yesterday, you choose to ignore him because you were so fucking pissed. He’s been demanding you to give him your time even though it’s not possible since it’s your exam week. He’s been accusing you for not even giving him enough time and you thought it was bullshit. You cannot let Jungkook be part of your stress while you’re stressing over your exams. You purposely ignored him but you realized, you shouldn’t because of the outcome.

“You should have waited until my class ended.” You rolled your eyes.

“I can’t babe. It’s making me anxious.” Obviously, that’s what he really felt. In his defense, this is actually the first time you both argue without fixing it immediately. You do want to fix it immediately but the argument was too long and you cannot waste any more hours arguing because you haven’t started studying. You realized that you cannot blame him since it was the first time but waiting for you in front of your class is a risky move. You didn’t want to get caught because if ever, you’re doomed.

“Can’t we just let them find out that we’re together?” Jungkook asked in the middle of the silence. You frowned as you looked at him and immediately shook your head.

“Are you insane? We cannot! Do you want me to get in trouble?” You massage your temple because he’s becoming so unbelievable.

“That’s easy to fix–

“No, kook! What will the people say? Judge me because I’m with you?!”

Imagine yourself being with him around the campus. People will fucking stare and create some bullshit issues. He may not always be around the campus because his job isn’t associated with the University but they know him. With his looks and popularity, of course, people know him so fucking much.

“Isn’t it the truth?! Baby, you’re not going to get expelled when they find out that we’re together!”

You really can’t believe that you’re both arguing about this topic because ever since you both decided to have a relationship, you already made it clear that you don’t want people to know about the both of you.

If that's what you wanted, the opposite is what he wants. He wants to let everyone know that both of you are together. He wants to touch you even in your sensitive part even if there's people looking. He doesn't give a fuck if people will see the both of you making out in the public. He wants to let the world know that he owns you.

“But they will say a lot of bullshit against me! Don’t you understand that?!”

Your reputation in this University isn’t much what is usually expected. People know you for being a studious and intimidating person. You are part of the organization of the University because they are expecting you to participate and finding out that you’re dating the famous Jeon Jungkook won’t sit well with your reputation especially when people nowadays who love to create bullshit dramas.

When he discovers that it's what you want, he finds it absurd. You sound so pathetic and shallow but he doesn't let you know that. For this relationship to work, he will make you think that you're the one in control. But you're getting out of hand and he has to do something about it.

“Babe I’m sorry but I cannot stand the fact that people are thinking that you’re not in relationship and basically hitting on you–

“Can’t you fucking trust me?!”

“I trust you but I don’t trust them! Fuck! It’s driving me insane!”

You thought that Jungkook’s life revolved around his cases as a lawyer but you were wrong. His world is you. In every decision he makes, it’s always connected to you. In every plan he creates, you are always involved. And he also made sure that your decisions, plans, and situations are according to what he wants. That’s why he will always keep an eye on you. He may not be around you when you’re in this goddamn place, but he made sure that he has someone to look on you. He won’t let anything happen that will oppose what he wants.

“I cannot endure anymore when men are eye-fucking you! I’ve got so much fucking control on not punching them! God knows how I want to use all my fucking power to get them hell out of this fucking University!”

Of course, his little eyes reported every shit decision and actions you made. Jimin did a great job in observing you. As the moment Jungkook found out that you’ve been telling everyone that you weren’t in a relationship and you were getting close with those fucking bastards who’s basically eye-fucking you, he stop considering your stupid excuses.

He won’t allow you to drift away from him. The perfect solution for it is to prevent it from happening.

“Will you consider me this time?”

As much as possible, he doesn't want to control you. He wants to let you decide what you want and he provides what you need. In this relationship, you're the boss. The only time that Jungkook will interfere is when he doesn’t like what's happening. And it's happening right now. You were the boss but he owns you.

He caressed your left cheek and rubbed it with his thumb. He was staring at your soul and he knew damn well that you do not like what he wants. But you don't have a choice.

"I swear that I'll kill everyone who will harm you in any way, baby. I will not let anything bad happen to you." He kissed your forehead after he said that and you looked away. He know for sure that you walked into his own trap.

[jihyocentric]

before you read this, know that the fill where jihyo talked about her first date with nayeon to jisoo might have a line or two that won’t make sense after this update, but i can change that later. it’s not really a major change.

-

jihyo’s headache starts early in the morning, when instead of tending to jisoo’s needs, nayeon seems more focused on foolishly decorating their pancakes for breakfast by making animal shapes with powdered sugar, even cutting the fruits to make hearts with them and decorate their plates.

it was a special occasion, as after jihyo took care of a problem at work, they would go see the doctor, and hopefully find out whether they were having another baby girl or a boy, like nayeon so wanted. even then, nayeon was taking too long doing basic things, and consequentially making jihyo slower.

jihyo had only just finished getting ready for work when jisoo, still in her pajamas and with her bunny plushie in hands, stopped jihyo from going downstairs to rush nayeon, slowing her down, mumbling something jihyo hardly understands with the biggest pout on her lips.

“slow down, bun. what do you want?” jihyo asks, her built up stress coming to a cease the moment her legs are being engulfed by jisoo’s arms, the grip tight, but jihyo didn’t mind the near abrupt approach from her baby.

“i want the kitty plushie!” jisoo sighs as she repeats her words, slightly annoyed when she isn’t understood, letting one of her arms detach from jihyo’s leg to show her the bunny plushie. “his friend.”

it’s a cat plushie jisoo asks for, jihyo knows.

where exactly that could be was a good question, but jihyo’s major guess was that the plushie jisoo looked for was in the attic, along with another few. jisoo was usually gifted with too many toys, some of which jihyo kept, knowing she might want them later, but others were donated after a while — jihyo hopes that the cat plushie wasn’t one of those.

“i can find that for you later,” jihyo palms jisoo’s cheek, squeezing it softly, caringly, but jisoo’s pout becomes even bigger. jihyo sighs. “do you need it now?”

jisoo nods. “wanna take the kitty outside too.”

making nayeon find it instead of doing it when she was already late for work would’ve been a smarter decision, that is if nayeon was able to find anything — she could barely find her own clothes in the closet, therefore jihyo strongly doubted she’d find jisoo’s plushie among plenty other toys.

while jisoo makes her way downstairs to rush nayeon with the breakfast on jihyo’s behalf, jihyo makes her way to the attic, hoping it wouldn’t take longer than five minutes to find jisoo’s toy. jihyo is relieved to find the place still clean, but the cat food on the ground next to the big container where they kept it indicated that nayeon had been there.

“messy,” jihyo sighs, swiftly making her way to the shelves.

there are toys there, all inside clear boxes, but there were no signs of jisoo’s cat being there. jihyo finds nothing on the shelves, but when she’s about to put one of the boxes back in place, she notices a cardboard box right next to it.

jihyo doesn’t remember seeing that there before — she certainly hadn’t placed it there. it was heavy, heavier than what nayeon would allow jihyo to lift while being pregnant, but jihyo couldn’t help but be curious of its contents. she fetches a pair of scissors, the only thing sharp she could find there, and opens the box carefully, leaving it on the ground.

“oh,” jihyo gasps, surprised with what she found. for some reason, her cheeks became warm instantly, and jihyo almost closed the box again.

those were the last things jihyo imagined she’d find there — a few letters from nayeon, multiple polaroids of them together and almost all of the gifts nayeon had given her in their teenage years. what grabs jihyo’s attention is a bunny plushie, blue like jisoo’s, almost the same. jihyo vividly remembers the day nayeon gave that to her.

even though jihyo was the youngest between them, nayeon had always been shy, reluctant even, to speak to her. that was before they started dating, of course, as the both of them could hardly look at each other without being met with a strong color on their cheeks, sheepish and deeply flustered.

during that time, they communicated through actions. it was the only way they could interact without embarrassing themselves, so nayeon developed a habit of giving jihyo small gifts, doing it religiously every friday, because that’s when she would usually meet jihyo while hanging out with their friends.

“yuck.”

the sound comes from either jeongyeon or momo, jihyo doesn’t know exactly who was the one already teasing her, but still she rolls her eyes, turning her face to the side, attempting to hide her red cheeks as she hears the couple’s annoying chatter.

“justin bieber?” momo asks, teasing the youngest of them. “i didn’t know jihyo liked this kind of music.”

jihyo crosses her arms, making a stern face that was anything but scary to her older friends. “unnie likes him. now shut up.”

“do we really have to listen to this if she’s not here yet? come on,” jeongyeon sighs, strongly against listening to the artist’s album. “she won’t stop liking you if you’re not his fan! you know nayeon-”

“unnie!” jihyo whines at the mention of nayeon liking her, her eyes barely meeting jeongyeon’s or momo’s, instantly getting up from the couch. “you really deserve each other.” she huffs pettily, leaving them alone in the living room, grumpy as she mumbled a pair of impolite words, ignoring their fake apologies and the teasing cooing that came with them.

it wasn’t any special date, but instead of giving jihyo the usual flowers or the cute, small toys that she’d find in random stores and immediately get for jihyo, in hopes of confessing to her (and despite knowing she would fail again), nayeon uses her savings to buy a delicate bunny plushie that cost perhaps more than it should. but it was worth it if it was for jihyo.

when nayeon arrives at jeongyeon’s, jihyo is doing homework upstairs, using jeongyeon’s room like it was hers, all because that was all that was left for her to do if she didn’t want to be a third wheel for jeongyeon and momo. the couple was preparing the popcorn for the movie they would watch together, telling nayeon where jihyo is even before greeting her properly.

“your little girlfriend woke up in the wrong side of the bed,” jeongyeon laughs. “be careful, nayeonie.”

“maybe you’re both just annoying,” nayeon replies, suddenly not interested on staying next to them now that she knew where jihyo was. “don’t burn our popcorn!”

“she doesn’t even deny that she’s her girlfriend anymore,” momo comments once nayeon leaves, tucking her head in jeongyeon’s neck, hugging her from behind while jeongyeon waits for the corn to start popping. “our girls are growing fast.”

jeongyeon laughs softly. “nayeon is older than you, silly.”

“sometimes she is.” momo mumbles, voice muffled against jeongyeon’s neck.

in jeongyeon’s room, jihyo and nayeon are hugging awkwardly — not because being close to each other was awkward, but because they never greeted like that. for some reason, instead of a saying the regular, shy ‘hi’, nayeon hugs jihyo the moment jihyo opens the door for her, only then giving the smaller girl a hello.

“i have something for you,” nayeon says, handing jihyo a small, cutely decorated cardboard box. out of anxiousness, nayeon resorts to being a coward again. “b-but only open it when you get home!”

once more, there goes her chance to confess to jihyo.

jihyo closes the box instantly when the memory hits her.

she remembers it perfectly, how she could barely speak to nayeon without her voice coming out shakily, how she trembled when nayeon hugged her, how mortified she felt when nayeon pointed out that she was blushing — they were a mess back then, and jihyo still felt embarrassed when she thought about those times.

the plushie came with a short, but sweet message. opening the box again, jihyo searches for it, eager to know what younger nayeon was doing to get her to fall in love for her, as if jihyo didn’t already know who she had fallen for and why. knowing exactly what to expect, jihyo retrieves a polaroid picture from the box.

in the picture, nayeon was smiling with the plushie next to her face, as if confirming that she looked like the bunny, because jihyo would tell her that a lot. behind it, nayeon had written a few words for jihyo.

“hey, kiddo

jihyo laughs right at the first sentence. “kiddo? why would she call me that…”

you keep saying i look like a bunny, so i decided to get one for you.

yoo jeongyeon may or may not have told me you like sleeping with plushies. i figured you would like this one! ><

from: your pretty unnie

ps.: i saw you took your braces off. you were pretty with them, but even prettier without <3”

“no.” jihyo whines at the mention of her braces. “alright, that’s enough.”

placing the items back into the box, jihyo ignores the urge to go through all of the things inside it. she was more than late for work, and if a short message from nayeon already made her feel shy like the teen she used to be, reading full letters would make her situation even worse. and jihyo didn’t have the time for that.

she finds jisoo’s cat in a cabinet, along with other plushies, and then she makes her way downstairs with the toy in one hand and a bag hanging on her shoulder. if not for her pregnancy, she would definitely skip breakfast, far too late for work, but the baby inside of her was hungry — and nayeon wouldn’t allow her to go out without eating.

“there you go, bun.” jihyo kisses the top of jisoo’s head, placing the plushie on the table. she sits next to nayeon, leaving her bag on a chair, ready to leave as soon as she finished eating. “nayeon, when did you get that box?”

“the one in the attic?” nayeon asks, handing jihyo the honey, knowing she’d ask for it. “your mom gave it to me last week, when i was picking jisoo up from your parents’ house. she even scolded me a little because i gave you too many gifts back then…” she pouts as she speaks.

“and i loved all of them, don’t mind her,” jihyo reassures, kissing nayeon’s cheek softly, headache long forgotten. at least for a brief moment. nayeon still made her late for work, and she’d face the consequences later.

nayeon smiles. “i know. remember when you used to sleep with that bun-”

“i don’t remember anything.” jihyo looks to her plate. “so this is why you took so long making pancakes?”

nayeon hums, looking at her impeccable art displayed on the pancake. “uh-huh. bunny shaped for the baby girl, kitty shaped for the pretty wife.”

neither of them notice jisoo had excused herself from the table, sick of her parents’ antics, to eat with bbuyo on the couch.

to: im nayeon

nayeonie, get food for bbuyo on your way here.

the container is almost empty.

don’t forget!

“unnie, i think we are done.” yeji says, rather shy after making jihyo show up for work when she wasn’t supposed to for her own mistake. “you only have to sign here and i’ll take these to miss bae.”

“you don’t have to be so nervous,” jihyo offers her a kind smile. “we all make mistakes. i should have read before i signed those papers. as your supervisor, i made a mistake as well.”

“thank you.” yeji says. rather than blabbering about jihyo being the perfect supervisor and how she was the only one in the wrong, she keeps her mouth shut, knowing she would embarrass herself if she tried to praise her superior again — she knew that from experience.

“joohyun won’t be mad,” jihyo continues. “we delayed the deal, but she’s my friend. she won’t mind. don’t blame yourself too much.”

yeji waits patiently as jihyo reads the document handed to her, letting out a relieved breath when jihyo finally signs the papers, knowing she didn’t make any mistakes then. jihyo checks the time on a watch adorning her wrist, eyes falling on yeji again once she knows she won’t be late for her appointment.

“unnie, can i ask you something?” yeji calls, already making a question.

jihyo nods, taking her glasses off after she finished giving the documents a final read. “go ahead.”

“isn’t it weird to carry a baby?” yeji asks, shoulders losing their tautness, as if she had been dying to make that question. jihyo wants to laugh at how fussy she is about it, seeming curious but, in a way, disgusted with the thought of having a baby inside of herself. “like, it is growing inside of you… doesn’t it freak you out?!”

jihyo never forgets yeji is hardly an adult — she was clearly very young, trying to be mature and competent as an employee, but sometimes it became too obvious that yeji was just a kid. the way she speaks to jihyo makes her laugh softly, knowing she wasn’t speaking to her intern yeji, but rather the barely 20 years old yeji.

“when i found out i was carrying jisoo, yes. it did freak me out.” jihyo replies. “but now it’s just normal, until they start kicking. that is a little weird.”

a sound indicating that she was receiving a notification reaches jihyo’s ears, making her grab her phone instantly, knowing there was a possibility of it being nayeon. and it was.

from: im nayeon

hyo would you be mad if i got a bnuy

???

bunny*

soo saw them at the pet shop. they’re cute :(

at a random pet shop, nayeon sees jisoo standing a foot or two away from the bunnies available for adoption. she had stopped there on her way to pick jihyo up at work, right when she got the message that they were out of cat food. as those were domesticated bunnies, nayeon had no excuse to tell jisoo they couldn’t have it or that she should stay far from them.

from: wife <3

what? absolutely not, im nayeon.

taking care of a cat and a kid is already hard enough.

we don’t have time or the necessary things to own a rabbit.

jihyo’s headache comes back instantly, knowing, from the way nayeon was texting her, everything that would happen the moment she got in the car with nayeon and jisoo. jisoo would be mad and nayeon would try to make things better, but jihyo would feel like a bad mom for not allowing her kid to have more pets.

yeji excuses herself, feeling slightly intimidated by jihyo’s sudden stern face, but jihyo isn’t upset with her, so she thanks yeji for her work with the softest tone she could manage out.

from: im nayeon

i know, but we could have one still

bbuyo needs a friend

cats need company from other pets :(

“look, mama, there are baby cats too!” jisoo grabs nayeon by her coat, dragging her to another session of the pet store.

from: wife <3

no, nayeon.

we have talked about this already.

i’m free now. come pick me up. don’t forget bbuyo’s food.

just like jihyo had imagined, jisoo keeps quiet in the backseat, with a pout on her face because, once again, jihyo deprived her from having more pets.

it’s not like bbuyo wasn’t enough, but jisoo wanted more, which was natural for a kid of her age, who didn’t understand how hard keeping a pet was and how important it was to be truly available to take care of them properly, which jihyo and nayeon weren’t. especially because jihyo was pregnant again.

“how was your day with mama, soo?” jihyo asks, looking at the rearview to see jisoo, who held both of her plushies tightly.

jisoo’s pout remains intact. “good.”

nayeon knows she’s in trouble then. jihyo looks at her sharply, and despite keeping her eyes on the road, nayeon can feel the stare on her skin.

“what did you do together?” jihyo asks again, trying to fix the situation nayeon had created.

the question seems to lit jisoo’s face, much to nayeon’s relief. at least her daughter was doing some damage control when answering jihyo’s questions properly, without pretending she’s sleepy to avoid speaking to her or blatantly expressing her frustrations.

“mama took me to the park!” jisoo replies, rather excited for someone who was supposedly upset. “we ate cotton candy and there was a train ride too!”

“is that so, bun?” jihyo seems to relax and so does nayeon — jisoo was upset, but, for a reason jihyo didn’t know and wasn’t going to question at all, she was quickly overcoming it. “did you enjoy the ride?”

“uh-huh.” jisoo nods, her plushies pressed tightly against herself. jihyo was sure that the bunny’s ear would fall off any time, as jisoo kept holding it by its ears.

giving jisoo space, jihyo’s attention goes back to nayeon. she was angry, very much so, because nayeon could’ve bought bbuyo’s food at any other store, easily avoiding pet shops that way. still, that day was supposed to be a happy day, and jihyo wouldn’t allow nayeon’s lack of basic thinking ruin it for them.

“do you think we’ll really find out today?” jihyo asks, instinctively placing her hand over her growing belly.

nayeon hums. “we just need to hope they won’t be crossing their legs this time.”

“come in,” the doctor says. “oh my god, this princess grew a lot.”

jisoo becomes shy when the attention falls on her, even if the only “stranger” in the room was the doctor, and hides behind jihyo’s legs.

the middle aged woman wasn’t a total stranger, as she took care of jisoo’s health until she was about a year. despite jihyo and nayeon having a pediatrician of their trust, the doctor who took care of jihyo during her pregnancy would always be the most reliable one, so whenever they needed help, the obstetrician would be the first one they would call.

“a lot? she’s so small for her age, like her mommy.” nayeon jokes, making both jihyo and jisoo look at her with a piercing gaze. she clears her throat. “uh… w-we’re here to find out if the other princess- or prince is doing well!”

“alright,” the doctor laughs. “you already know what to do, jihyo.”

jisoo sits quietly on a couch, attentively watching everything that was being done to her mommy, scared of the doctor for jihyo, as her mothers didn’t seem scared at all. someone had to be scared for them, so jisoo plays a ‘guard dog’ role, getting distracted by her plushies from time to time, but still taking care of her mommy from not so far away.

nayeon stands anxiously next to jihyo, who is lying down and wincing at the cold gel being applied on her tummy.

“good news,” the doctor says. “the baby is not crossing their legs. do you want to know…”

“it’s a girl, isn’t it?!” nayeon nearly squeals, interrupting the doctor because she knew the answer in her heart.

it wasn’t bad luck per se, as nayeon would love them regardless of anything, but she feels like, because she wanted a different experience with a boy and expressed it so often, she would definitely get another baby girl.

perhaps she was fated to have girls only. at least nayeon thought so, because, deep down, something told her she would never have boys with jihyo. she was even relieved to a certain extent, because although nayeon wanted a boy, she thinks she would go insane with a kid like one of jeongyeon and momo’s twins living with them.

“please,” jihyo answers the doctor properly. “we came here for that.”

“well…” the doctor analyzes the screen carefully. “nayeon is correct. she is a healthy girl.”

the ride home is mostly silent — jisoo doesn’t talk, because she has a lot to think about now that she knew she was going to be a big sister to a girl, and jihyo doesn’t say anything because she’s tired.

it’s only when they’re having dinner that jihyo lets out a sentence with more than three words.

“jisoo,” she starts. “do you know why mommy won’t let you have more pets yet?”

nayeon pretends she’s not listening because she knows jihyo isn’t only scolding jisoo, but also her. of course jihyo would never call nayeon out in front of jisoo when it came to things like that, so what jihyo said was only really directed to jisoo, but nayeon knew she was in the wrong there.

jisoo sticks her bottom lip out, playing with her food. “no.”

even if jisoo doesn’t say it, jihyo knows jisoo sees her as the strict mom and nayeon as the cool mom. it’s something that truly bothered her, because nayeon was permissive while she was only being careful. jisoo didn’t understand such things, so her immediate reaction was thinking jihyo was simply being stern.

“having pets makes you responsible for another life,” jihyo says, in a soft tone, not wanting to sound harsh. “it’s not easy to take care of an animal. you see, bbuyo is our responsibility, mama and i take care of his needs, isn’t that so?”

jisoo nods, earning a head bump on her foot hanging off the chair from bbuyo. “uh-huh.”

“once you grow up, you will also do that,” jihyo resumes her speech. “and only when i’m sure you can take care of him, i’ll let you have another cat. even a bunny, if that’s the case.”

there is always a but when jihyo has serious conversations with jisoo, but this time jisoo understands jihyo’s reasons, so it never comes out. she’s clearly sad — ‘growing up’ before getting another pet meant more waiting, but because nayeon had previously talked to her about being patient with her pregnant mommy, jisoo admits defeat.

curiously, it seems she’s momentarily no longer the baby of that house, but jihyo instead, because both jisoo and nayeon were watching over her.

“i understand, mommy.” jisoo mumbles, not even needing jihyo to ask her if she had been clear. “i’ll wait.”

when she’s ready to sit on the bed and read a book before sleeping, nayeon is handed a pillow and a blanket.

“you’re not sleeping here tonight, im nayeon.” jihyo says, assertive with her decision.

nayeon had asked for it — jihyo has forgiven her way too many times for going over her choices on raising jisoo, which gave jisoo reasons to think jihyo was too harsh. too strict. this time, jihyo punishes nayeon by making her sleep on the couch, or anywhere that wasn’t next to her.

“but baby, i’ve already said i’m sorry!” nayeon whines, being pushed out of the room. she allows jihyo to kick her out, not trying to fight back, knowing she was in the wrong.

“you keep making jisoo think i’m the bad guy,” jihyo huffs. “because of you, i become the bad, cruel mom who won’t let her daughter have cute pets. or fill herself with candy until she throws up. or sleep without taking a shower before!”

“that only happened one time…” nayeon mutters. jihyo holds onto the handle of the door, ready to close it right on nayeon’s face. “wait, hyo! don’t be mad, i’ll make up for it! i can become the scary mom… look,” she clears her throat. “no, jisoo! don’t grab that flower pot, you might let it break!”

nayeon’s impression of her fails to make jihyo convinced to let her sleep inside, but manages to make her even angrier.

“i’m not scary,” jihyo’s lips quiver with sheer irritation. “and i don’t speak like that, dumbass. good night, im nayeon!”

the door closes, but nayeon keeps standing in front of it. perhaps she shouldn’t have tried to be funny, but jihyo was scary giving the fact that she hadn’t spoken to nayeon normally since morning, only when it was necessary, so nayeon had to break the ice somehow.

“hyo,” nayeon calls, hugging her cold pillow and blanket. “are you still there?”

jihyo rolls her eyes. “where else could i be, im nayeon?”

“right.” nayeon smiles. “i love you. and our baby girl. sleep well, hyo. if you feel cold, turn on the heater. i… i’m sorry.” she says, voice coated with nothing but genuine affection. “i, uh… i’ll leave now. good-”

nayeon is surprised by jihyo opening the door again, jumping into her arms suddenly. she barely has time to understand what is happening but accepts the kiss, dropping her pillow to pass her arms around jihyo’s waist instead. the kiss is soft just the same amount it is abrupt and hurried, and nayeon almost falls trying to, unpreparedly, support jihyo’s weight over her.

when jihyo pulls back, nayeon sighs, already missing her lips.

“by the way, you didn’t deserve this. this one was for me,” jihyo explains, before she leaves nayeon alone once again.

nayeon has two options then.

she could 1) sleep on the couch, in that lonely, cold living room, that would feel way bigger than it was without anyone there with her, or 2) squeeze herself in jisoo’s bed and sleep with her, leaving bbuyo without a job for the night.

the second option is what nayeon chooses, of course, cuddling jisoo the entire night, even when bbuyo had complained and meowed in protest.

[goblincow]

Been thinking about this & putting it into practice when writing The Perilous Pear & Plum Pies of Pudwick for a while: thanks to the ever excellent @babblegumsam (who you are probably already following and if not now is your chance to rectify that) for the final straw that made me write this up today. I truly believe if you have any interest in TTRPGs, play, or design you'll get something out of it, it's a further 5.4 mins read from here on out.

--------------------

Play is interaction.

Reading is interaction.

Below I will argue the necessity & usefulness of thinking the relationship between reading & play in TTRPGs as (almost) the exact same thing to unlock a wide & deep potential as reader/player/designer.

--------------------

Reading & play don't have to be the same thing. But you can't play without reading (in the sense of reading representations, images, ideas, concepts, interactions, etc, not just written text), because then there could be no interaction.

Reading and play can both accurately describe a given act or process. For instance: I read a table or piece of prose in a TTRPG book.

I say this because this is an idea that people struggle with, and while I encourage debate around the concept, we first have to agree on some basic building blocks that I hope I'm able to communicate here. For instance, there exists a potential reality in which tabletop roleplaying games are called tabletop reading games and nothing else about them changes (except for the consequential ability to think of reading in ttrpgs as play, and the potential this tool unlocks), because the prerequisite role for all other roles being played in a role-playing game is that of the reader.

This is true for much more than TTRPGs, but if we simply focus on acknowledging that reading & play in ttrpgs can and often are the same thing, then we are able to make informed design choices on this basis that we otherwise lack the agency to make – and which are nonetheless choices that are being made while we miss the opportunity to observe, read & ultimately interact and/or change and/or play with them.

To not think of the relationship between reading & play in TTRPGs in this way is to limit your agency as a designer, reader, player, and ultimately to cause yourself to be unable to synthesise these roles which are deeply inter-related, perhaps more so than they are disparate.

However you define it, Good Design necessitates the application of the right tool for the job. This requires making, maintaining & improving the tools that you have access to. The reader/player relationship is not only one of these, but an integral one that precedes a great many (if not all) of the other tools that you can & do employ as designer/player/reader.

If you allow this tool to remain blunt and imprecise (and especially if you don't acknowledge that it exists and that you use it in every choice you make), what you are doing is making a choice to blunt all of your other tools, even if you aren't aware of it.

This is poor design, poor play, and poor reading,* and I believe that this is true regardless of how you define each of those terms.

*though of course we could - and I think should - argue over the semantics & limitations of my imprecise use of the word "poor" there and the further ideas it smuggles in unacknowledged, but I trust that you will be able to infer what I'm trying to communicate in my use of it and I further hope that by leaving this imprecise application of a tool here in the way that I have used it, it might serve as a good example of the consequences, limitations & potential dangers of applying tools/terms/ideas that might be best described as "too blunt for the job", which is the very thing I'm attempting to highlight & address here.

It would not seem very sensible to choose to limit yourself in this way unless it allowed you access to new tools, which is a choice that you could only make once you are familiar with the central idea I'm presenting here – in other words, if you break the rules without understanding them you are very unlikely to be taking a step forward and much more likely to just be shuffling in place or even stepping backwards.

I hope that this short interaction has unlocked or reinforced your access to a useful tool that will allow you to sharpen your understanding of the play/reading relationship in TTRPGs and in turn refine & maintain your existing tools and your ability to synthesise new ones.

I look forward to discovering with you what new agencies this allows us to unlock, and I hope you take what you have read here and play with it to design new realities that you & I have yet to imagine.

[wearepaladin]

Well, if you'd like to restate your positions, I'd like to hear your thoughts on the Oaths (particularly Vengeance, Devotion and Ancients, as they seem to be the most iconic) and to hear your position on them?

Oath of Devotion: The more traditional oath among the core three, and my favorite, if I'm being honest, for among other things, it provides the most clarity on how the oathkeeper is supposed to act.

Honesty: Don’t lie or cheat. Let your word be your promise.

Courage: Never fear to act, though caution is wise.

Compassion: Aid others, protect the weak, and punish those who threaten them. Show mercy to your foes, but temper it with wisdom.

Honor: Treat others with fairness, and let your honorable deeds be an example to them. Do as much good as possible while causing the least amount of harm.

Duty: Be responsible for your actions and their consequences, protect those entrusted to your care, and obey those who have just authority over you.

Every tenet begins with a virtue, a clear ideal to aspire to, followed by clarity on how best to fulfill that tenet. While this Oath would thrive in the Altruistic Collectivism that typically embodies the Lawful Good Alignment, it is by no means not capable of providing guidance and purpose to a person who lives outside such systems. It is my favorite oath because it's not overly ambiguous, has solid and clarified ideals and how to achieve them with the freedom to interpret them to their best fulfillment.

Oath of the Ancients: While the most popular according to polls I've taken in the past, and while I don't dislike it, it is my least favorite among the core three. It's an Oath that encourages goodness and benevolence to an admirable degree, but I sometimes feel it is too nebulous in its directives.

Kindle the Light. Through your acts of mercy, kindness, and forgiveness, kindle the light of hope in the world, beating back despair.

Shelter the Light. Where there is good, beauty, love, and laughter in the world, stand against the wickedness that would swallow it. Where life flourishes, stand against the forces that would render it barren.

Preserve Your Own Light. Delight in song and laughter, in beauty and art. If you allow the light to die in your own heart, you can't preserve it in the world.

Be the Light. Be a glorious beacon for all who live in despair. Let the light of your joy and courage shine forth in all your deeds.

It encourages a philosophy of altruistic consequentialism, a benevolence that focuses more on the final result than how best to achieve it. If it it stands against anything, unnecessary destruction and despair are illustrated as the closest it will acknowledge as Darkness in a tenet system that wants to encourage Light in all its forms. It is a moral oath that wants to find the goodness in everyone, foster it, strengthen it, but hesitates to name its enemy. Perhaps this is a statement that goodness can be fostered anywhere, and that is admirable.

Oath of Vengeance: The most martial of the core oaths, and one that embraces ruthlessness as a virtue. Out of all the Oaths, its perhaps the most focused in its belief and means of achieving it, to the point that the unwary can trap themselves.

Fight the Greater Evil. Faced with a choice of fighting my sworn foes or combating a lesser evil, I choose the greater evil.

No Mercy for the Wicked. Ordinary foes might win my mercy, but my sworn enemies do not.

By Any Means Necessary. My qualms can't get in the way of exterminating my foes.

Restitution. If my foes wreak ruin on the world, it is because I failed to stop them. I must help those harmed by their misdeeds.

In a way, its the opposite of the Ancients Oath in that it focuses more on the Enemies of the Oathkeeper than how to best live a virtuous or benevolent life. The only virtue it name sis restitution which it underlies as the final world: Where Evil Harms, you shall Restore. For many avengers, this can be overlooked or seen as less important than the Hunt, but allows the Avenger a means of reminding themselves that destruction of evil is meant to lead to good prospering. Destruction is not the end goal. Unlike the other 2, this is purely a warriors oath and can be ended by action, fulfilling the Oath, either allowing the person to move on or focus purely on the restitution tenet.

All three have a place and can be coterminous.

[o-uncle-newt]

A lord, a Belgian and a priest walk into a manor house

I mentioned in my previous post about the book Enter Sir John that next I might write about Leo Bruce's classic murder mystery pastiche Case for Three Detectives next- et voila, as Amer Picon Hercule Poirot might say, I am doing it! In this book, after a gruesome locked room murder in a manor house, three detectives who are SUSPICIOUSLY SIMILAR TO Lord Peter Wimsey, Hercule Poirot, and Father Brown arrive on the scene freakishly quickly to each attempt to solve the case (and one up each other just a bit while doing so), all the while talking over Sgt Beef, the very straightforward cop just doing straightforward police investigation who keeps trying to tell them that he's solved it.

VERY GENERAL SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK BELOW- as in, no names or specifics but describing some broad plot points

***

Spoiler-not-spoiler- Beef solves it. I promise it's not a spoiler, it's the point of the whole book! That said, I'm not going to focus so much on the actual mystery, its IRL solution, and its mechanics because they don't end up being really relevant (to say further would be a spoiler)- all I'll say is that the solution is fascinating. I'm also not going to talk much about Sgt Beef, who, because he is there to be routine and boring with his investigation, doesn't make much of an impact IMO except to be somewhat sarcastic and speaking in some very phonetic Cockney (or whatever "'e got 'im by the froat" et al is meant to sound like). He also has one MASSIVE and consequential fuckup that I won't spoil and that annoys me a lot from a plot perspective.

What I really want to talk about are the detectives, because they are the fun part. First I'll say that the book is narrated by the natural sidekick- a man named Townsend (if his first name is mentioned it passed me by) who is, essentially, a wannabe Watson/Hastings. He finds himself at the scene of the crime, is thrilled to discover that he gets to hang with these amazing detectives, and gets annoyed by the presence of the wet-blanket Sgt Beef and his attempts to spoil the fun. He shadows all the detectives, becoming first awed and then disenchanted and then awed again as he moves from detective to detective, seeing their amazing deductions and then seeing their fellow detectives shooting them down in turn. Seeing his journey as the eager sidekick who gets slowly disillusioned as he realizes that maybe the amateur sleuths aren't all they're cracked up to be is very fun.

Who are the sleuths? We have Lord Simon Plimsoll, Amer Picon, and Monsignor Smith, and if you couldn't figure out who they're parodying just from the names then basically everything else about them will fill you in. They're all very good pastiches, though my favorite was Monsignor Smith just because Bruce got exactly how to write a Father Brown parody. I've seen people say it's a bit too nasty, but as someone who's enjoyed Father Brown stories for nearly two decades I thought that he captured his speaking style and mannerisms perfectly- with lots of vague allusions and parallelisms and odd mystical statements. One of my favorites:

"If there was only one [rope], it would be better. It would be much better. But I'm afraid there are two. And yet- who can say? One rope makes a noose."

It kinda sorta means something, but doesn't actually, or if it does we're not being told what, and it sounds ominous and wise. That's basically Father Brown in a nutshell.

Amer Picon as Hercule Poirot is fun- there isn't a lot of meat to the parody besides him basically just talking exactly like Poirot (and like Poirot, who had his Hastings, Poirot seems to be the most oka with having Townsend following him around), but Bruce is so good at it that it doesn't matter, as the mannerisms and speech patterns really make you think you're reading Poirot. And the fact that the narrator is SO incredibly Hastings-like makes Picon even more Poirot-esque, which is great.

Lord Simon Plimsoll... well, as a fan, I'm of two minds. He has a very entertaining entrance, where he rolls up in style-

"He stepped out of the first of the three Rolls Royces, the second of which contained his man-servant, whose name I later learned was Butterfield, and the third, a quantity of photographic apparatus."

Clearly this isn't Wimsey, who would never show up anywhere without some iteration of his Daimler, Mrs Merdle, but it's what you'd write about a PARODY of the kind of character Wimsey is. After that he's mostly just cheerful, droppin' gs, and using whatever random slang he has the opportunity for. On the one hand, it's pretty much what someone observing Wimsey from the outside would see (though there could have been more arcane French quotations), and so it can't be faulted for that- one difference between the Wimsey books and the Father Brown/Poirot books is that in the Wimsey books we frequently get in Wimsey's own head and see him behind closed doors, which gives him more depth; it's fair enough in that case that in a book narrated by a looker-on he would only see the outer quippy shell. On the other hand, for a fan, that made the parody seem more one-dimensional and less apt. It doesn't help that Bunter Butterfield isn't really around much in the book; that might have helped a bit.

(I would note- if Bruce wanted, given the tone of the parody particularly of Father Brown, I bet he could have done some really blistering parody of Wimsey being all overwhelmed by his nerves and his conscience, and I'm not sure if I'm glad he didn't because I would have resented it or if I'd have loved it as it would have made the whole thing feel more Wimseyish.)

All that is good, but what's REALLY great in this book is that Leo Bruce gets not specifically the detectives themselves, but the way that the detective stories they star in function. This is, again, something that I think is less the case with Wimsey than the other two, but the following quote is reasonably illustrative:

"Lord Simon, gently sipping his brandy, so obviously considered it all to be a most absorbing game of chess, 'something to occupy a chap,' that for a moment I lost all patience with him. And the brilliant little Picon, whose humanity was more evident, he too could not help enjoying his own efforts- and that disturbed me. Certainly I had never known Mgr Smith actually hand a man over to the Law, but even that was partly because the criminals he discovered had a way of committing suicide before he revealed their identity."

This has the same issue as the rest of the Wimsey parody- Wimsey from the outside is not especially interesting, and Wimsey from the inside is generally imperceptible by narrators who don't know him, so while a Wimsey fan will read this and say "not true!" it's pretty reasonable for an outside observer seeing him try to solve a crime. The Picon description rings pretty true- he shakes his head at things that bother him, but he still gets a lot of pleasure from the chase. And the nature of Father Brown's investigations is well summed up here- as is another section where the narrator observes that Mgr Smith was probably losing interest because there were no supernatural things that would turn out to be even more horrible because they were natural, and no demons or symbols of human evil.

...or were there?

Because my actual favorite thing here is the ending, and this is where the semi-spoilers come in because I will be mentioning some very general plot points from the book. The genius thing here, essentially, is that each of the solutions posited by the three parodic detectives is exactly the kind of solution that would occur in a book by their counterparts.

Plimsoll's solution is first, and it's classic Sayers- it's about a woman's inheritance and the complex web of relationships and personal circumstances that compel a person to kill that woman in order to get her money. Sayers returns to the inheritance plot frequently (including in three books in a row, crazily enough) and it's nearly always a woman who has a rapacious relative who will scheme for her possessions.

Picon's solution comes next, and it's, if anything, even more classic Christie- a love triangle and collusion between lovers. Whether because of her own life experiences or not, love triangles are very, very common across Christie's work, and this is a classic example of the kind that she wrote.

Mgr Smith's solution is just as classic Chesterton- it involves the weakness and evil in the heart of a clergyman, who Smith says is possessed by devils and/or insane. That clergyman is, of course, Protestant. I rest my case.

Writing this book was clearly a feat- Bruce had to not just figure out the essence of each of these detectives' stories, but also to construct a mystery and setting which could provide the clues that could be used to construct a murder along the detectives' usual lines. And not only does it indicate a lot of skill, it also is entertaining to read, and those things don't always manage to go together.

Anyway, while I do have some quibbles overall, if you're a fan of any of these detectives, I highly recommend this one!

[infinites-chaser]

pls... I've finally found it. The only AI writing op-ed worth reading:

AI embodies hypotheticals I can just imagine for myself: If only I could write all day and night. If only I were smarter and more talented. If only I had endless knowledge. If only I could read whole libraries. What could I create if I had no needs? What might this development mean for writing?

Considering limitlessness has led me to believe that the impediments of human writers are what lead us to create meaningful art. And they are various: limits of our body, limits of our perspectives, limits of our skills. But the constraints of an artist’s process are, in the language of software, a feature, not a bug.

Writing is a blood-and-guts business, literally as well as figuratively. As I type with my hands, my lungs oxygenate the blood that my heart pumps; my brain sends and receives signals. Each of these functions results in the words on this page.

...

In reducing my entire self to my cognition alone, akin to a computer, I’d forgotten the truth that I am inseparable from my imperfect body, with its afflictions and ailments. My books emerge from this body.

...

Compared with AI, we might seem like pitiful creatures. Our lives will end; our memory is faulty; we can’t absorb 191,000 books; our frames of reference are circumscribed. One day, I will die. I foreclose on certain opportunities by pursuing others. Typing this now means I cannot fold my laundry or have lunch with a friend. Yet I believe writing is worth doing, and this sacrifice of time makes it consequential. When we write, we are picking and choosing—consciously or otherwise—what is most substantial to us. Behind human writing is a human being calling for attention and saying, Here is what is important to me. I’m able to move through only my one life, from my narrow point of view; this outlook creates and yet constrains my work. Good writing is born of mortality: the limits of our body and perspectives—the limits of our very lives.

I can imagine a future in which ChatGPT works more convincingly than it does now. Would I exchange the hours that I spent working on each of my two books for finished documents spat out by ChatGPT? That would have saved me years of attempts and failures. But all of that frustration, difficult as it was in the moment, changed me. It wasn’t a job I clocked in and out of, contained within a tidy sum of hours. I carried the story with me while I showered, drove—even dreamed. My mind was changed by the writing, and the writing changed by my mind.

Working on a novel, I strain against my limits as a bounded, single body by imagining characters outside of myself. I test the limits of my skill when I wonder, Can I pull this off? And though it feels grandiose to say, writing is an attempt to use my short supply of hours to create a work that outlasts me. These exertions in the face of my constraints strike me as moving, and worthy, and beautiful.

Writing itself is a technology, and it will shift with the introduction of new tools, as it always has. I’m not worried that AI novelists will replace human novelists. But I am afraid that we’ll lose sight of what makes human writing worthwhile: its efforts, its inquiries, its bids for connection—all bounded and shaped by its imperfections—and its attempts to say, This is what it’s like for me. Is it like this for you? If we forget what makes our human work valuable, we might forget what makes our human lives valuable too. Novels are one of the best means we have for really seeing one another, because behind each effort is a mortal person, expressing and transmuting their realities to the best of their ability. Reading and writing are vital means by which we bridge our separate consciousnesses. In understanding these limits, we can understand one another’s lives. At least, we can try.

[naturalrights-retard]

The closure of Britain’s last Haber-Bosch plant, which produced ammonia vital for the creation of fertilisers and explosives, symbolises the country’s growing dependence on imports and the broader trend of deindustrialization, says Ed Conway in the Times. Here’s an excerpt:

What is the single most consequential invention in modern human history? It’s tempting to vote for the aircraft or the motorcar, or maybe the computer or the internet, but if you ask me it has to be the Haber-Bosch process. This complex chemical reaction, devised by Fritz Haber and Carl Bosch in the early 20th century, is not universally famous. Yet nearly half of us wouldn’t be alive without it.

Haber and Bosch, a German scientist and engineer, were the duo who worked out how to capture nitrogen from the air and turn it into ammonia – from which we make fertiliser (and explosives).

Nearly everything you eat will contain nitrogen made this way. Actually it gets wilder than that, because more or less half the nitrogen inside your body (and there’s quite a lot, not least in every strand of your DNA) is nitrogen from a Haber-Bosch plant.

The story of the past century, of a global population swelling to eight billion and beyond without running out of food, is the story of Haber-Bosch. Even if we gave over every acre of available land on this planet to agriculture, we could not grow enough food to keep us all alive without the nitrogen fertilisers made in Haber-Bosch plants. It’s hard to think of anything quite so important for our survival as a species.

Which is why the following piece of news should give us all pause for thought: Britain is shutting down its only remaining Haber-Bosch plant. This may come as a surprise — it hasn’t appeared in a single national newspaper report — but those who work in the business see it as a watershed moment. For the first time in a century this country will become entirely dependent on nitrogen fertiliser imported from abroad.

This has, in fairness, been a long time coming. The plant in question – a site in Billingham, Teesside, owned by the American firm CF Fertilisers – has been mothballed for a while. You need lots of hydrogen in those Haber-Bosch reactors, and the main way you get hydrogen is from natural gas; while gas prices have fallen since the invasion of Ukraine, they are nonetheless higher than they were a few years ago. Since nitrogen fertiliser is a natural gas product, CF has shifted production to America, where gas is more plentiful and cheap. …

Now in one sense it might hardly seem to matter whether we get our fertilisers from Billingham or those overseas plants. Moreover, since ammonia manufacture involves burning natural gas, the closure will actually help Britain reduce its carbon footprint. Some point out that we have become too reliant on synthetic ammonia to fertilise our crops – and they have a point. And while the Haber-Bosch units will be closed, other bits of the Billingham plant will go on, since we still need to process the ammonia arriving from America. Only 40 jobs will be lost.

Even so, it is a reminder that in an era when many countries are investing more in manufacturing and thinking harder about where they get stuff from, Britain is still deindustrialising, becoming more reliant on imports from overseas, more exposed if things suddenly run short.

Worth reading in full.

[horizon-verizon]

According to TG, the system somehow protects Alicent & makes her son, a serial rapist, a king & her deranged fans really wants to see that incompetent monster in power as a reward for her longtime suffering, so fuck all the other women whom he will continue raping and the lowborn children he will continue abusing, as long as Alicent is happy.

Yeah, that's what it comes out as. Others might counterargue this by saying that Aegon's council will temper his absurd predatory behavior, and to that I say that his mother and sister couldn't stop him from doing it while he was a prince/his dad let he roam wild/his brothers are either physically or emotionally too distant and uncaring so how is a KING Aegon II going to be "held back" in lieu of his having more power and authority around literally everyone around him?! No one in that council would be able to check him! They all underrank him! And the guy dismissed Otto Hightower, his own grandfather, after yelling at him at least twice for not being violent and effective enough to bring him quicker results, so he made Criston his Hand! Criston, who of all the people there was the worst choice! Plus Criston was a military-head... we appointing military heads for administrative and nonmilitary assignments now?!

While his mom and sister stopped him from going berserk at the council:

he still went berserk in the first place for them to have to do anything

it shouldn't be their responsibility to check him; he is responsible for his own emotional control skills

how often and well can each woman stop him from doing some reckless shit before he himself orders their confinement to do his own thing once he gets to a certain place of frustration & anger?! who is to stop him then? the bloodthirsty Criston Cole? The cautious and self-preserving-by-compliance Tyland Lannister? Dead Lyman Beesbury?! The cowardly grandmaster Orwyle?

Aegon is the one to threaten to throw his own Grandmaester and anyone who seems to defy him regarding Rhaenyra's "defiance"...as if the sound advice the maester was giving him wasn't sound!

If they say "2 canons" bullshit again, I will say to them that for the show to completely remove it and to vacuum all of this is to really give us some 5-year old action-figure playtime nonsense (if they haven't included this in the second season, who knows, and even then it's probably so unsatisfactory bc it's missing crucial details as they did with Criston making as if the V boys were going to be sexual predators just bc Laenor was gay in the same breath as calling those boys bastards and not Laenor's sons). It means EVERYTHING for us to hear and see all these things, to contextualize Aegon as Rhaenyra's foil, and to present him as the product of patriarchal privilege and evil.

It is not "complicated" at all for Aegon to be less patriarchally privileged and angry and entitled than he is meant to be for the sake of making Alicent appear his main abuser and direct cause of evil; for the sake of making his sexual assaults appear "poor little rich boy" syndrome; to remove most of his most frantically-charged dialogue for "stoic" and "put upon" silence as he walks "begrudgingly" to the Dragonpit makeshift platform.

It's actually really simple, amoral, without the benefit of actually being emotionally charged (plus and consequentially boring): in vacuuming out these lines and behaviors, they are both making the story less about the wrongfulness of the misogyny leveled against Rhaneyra and male privilege Aegon has, and more about "both sides", which reduces misogyny's presence and the need to critique it. Fulfilling a very conservative sense and agenda.

[lacrimosathedark]

I really wish people applied Hanlon's Razor and Grey's Law to their daily lives.

In case you don't know, here is what those mean.

Hanlon's Razor: Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity/incompetence.

Grey's Law: Any sufficiently advanced incompetence is indistinguishable from malice.

They sound in direct opposition, but I feel like people don't consciously think about either of these and apply them almost at random and it sucks. I know the lack of people thinking like this has effected me personally, and those around me.

Starting with Hanlon I suppose.

One of the few things I'm confident is is that I'm intelligent. That said, I'm wholly aware I have specialties and there's so much that I don't know, and my memory sucks so I often forget things too. I also am the furthest from malicious someone can really be without being a complete doormat (and I'm still a bit of a doormat, I'm working on it). Upsetting people is genuinely distressing on so many levels, and because of this I feel compelled to explain myself for literally everything, or say nothing at all. So I'm long rants and silence.

Sometimes I'll assert something and someone will disagree with me, be it because they got offended for some reason or because they have information I don't. I assume one or both of us is lacking information, so I share what I have and ask for theirs. You may have noticed this if you see me responding to posts asking for sources.

I hate being wrong. I know in a lot of people that manifests in becoming stubborn and defensive, but I actively try not to do that. I want to be correct, so I want to learn more. I want to know what I was missing. If I'm wrong, I want to know so I don't make the same mistakes again. If I'm not wrong but was missing information, it can give me a clearer understanding of the topic as a whole and people who think and feel differently than me which is fantastic because I love learning how people and things work when I don't understand the logic. And I love to share information to. And I might go overboard.

But people assume I'm trying to argue, and not that I genuinely want to understand their perspective.

And I'm not saying part of that's on me for not communicating well enough. But no matter how hard I try, someone always seems to assume I'm out to hurt people when the thought of vaguely upsetting someone often paralyzes me. I've been scolded for not asking for help because I feel like an inconvenience. (TW) The only reason I'm even alive is because I know at least one person would grieve, and hurting someone like that is so much worse than suffering through existence. (TW end) I'm not someone who would ever go out of my way to cause harm unprovoked.

And I know I'm not the only one to experience this. Neurodivergent people often have trouble communicating. Children still have a lot they don't know. Some people grew up incredibly sheltered. That's not even to mention people getting into a niche or study and being brand new, just learning. Everyone starts somewhere and no one begins as an expert in anything. And the world is big and there's so much to know in so little time.

Why do we assume people are playing dumb or ignorant on less consequential things just to be a jerk?

Assuming people are malicious because they're ignorant or even stupid hurts people who mean no harm. And it sucks.

Onto Grey.

I'll make this example a little less personal.

The American education system sucks, and most people never get comprehensive sex ed. Many states have laws limiting the education to "abstinence only". This results in many people not knowing how the reproductive system works.

This, therefore, results in our government full of old cishet white men to not know what the fuck they're talking about while trying to limit "women's" healthcare. People have died because of their idiocy. Doctors are scared to abort babies that won't survive birth, and make the mother wait until they are literally dying to help them. People have given stillbirths at home because doctors refused to help for fear of legal recourse. A woman was fucking arrested because she had a stillbirth at home because they refused to abort the dying fetus.

That incompetence and stupidity and the stubborn refusal to be educated costs actual lives.

Both Hanlon and Grey work for transphobia too.

Like, you should always initially apply Hanlon's Razor if you get misgendered. Maybe the person didn't know. Maybe it's new to them and they're still learning. Maybe they just need to unlearn the habit of how they've thought of you. It's a process and people make mistakes. It may hurt, but it's not automatically malicious.

However, where Grey's Law comes in is there can be people who say they love you, genuinely think they mean it, try to give you the world, but refuse to respect you as you are. They don't put effort into changing for you. And it's not malicious, clearly. They don't hate you, probably want what's best for you and think they know what that is. But with the amount of harm that attitude causes, can it be distinguishable from malice? I don't really think so.

I just wish people thought about that more. Me included.

[biblioflyer]

What is Picard's narrative style?

Just sort of thinking aloud here, but I'm finding myself rather baffled by a particular sort of response to Jack Crusher that seems to be a reaction to a saccharine, uncritical adoration of him that I'm somehow completely unaware of. Maybe there's a huge area of the web that is fawning over Jack that I'm just not seeing because of the whims of the algorithm.

I have a feeling this reaction might be dependent on what framework people are looking at the show through and whether its the classic Trek framing of pulp drama and "protagonist centric morality" where Jack is somehow supposed to make us feel seen and be presumed to be correct in all things.

Which I think flies in the face of the sort of "prestige drama" framing of the streaming era where the protagonists are limited and fallible and while they may be motivated by high minded principles, adhering to those principles is not always easy: see also Crusher and Picard talking themselves into executing Vadic or Seven executing the gangster in season one, and the right course of action is not always obvious. I strongly believe that this is the more appropriate way to analyze Seasons One and Two of Picard, and I suspect Discovery becomes a richer series if one adopts this posture.

Speaking of which, this is all very reminiscent of criticism of Burnham oddly enough, which makes it extra odd and ironic because it also seems to be rooted in lingering anger over how the fandom has responded to Burnham and a perceived hypocrisy in the reception of Jack. Don't get me wrong, I got to like the guy even though I dislike both the secret lovechild trope and the messiah antichrist trope, but if I had thought I was supposed to assume he's objectively correct about everything and uber special, that would not have been the case.

If the assumption is that characters like Burnham and Jack are pulp action heroes then yes, the entire plot falls apart like a house of cards because they repeatedly do very poorly thought out things that turn out through happenstance to have been the right move after all for reasons no one could reasonably predict ahead of time. Additionally the plot winds up centering them as a key element in saving or condemning the Federation, the galaxy etc.

However! Greek tragedies involving Fate with a capital F also deal in self fulfilling prophecies and narratives that are going to fulfill themselves no matter how the characters try to resist. Some of the darkest stories humanity has ever told involved predestination paradoxes.

Which to me means that if we are to assume that modern Star Trek is more like The Expanse, Babylon 5, or even Deep Space Nine; absolutely no one should be assuming Jack is supposed to be an audience surrogate. He's just another mortal flailing his way through the story who didn't ask to be a chess piece in a Borg Xanatos gambit and, if anything, keeps trying to get people to stop dying in his stead.

People who are making these choices are very explicitly doing it not because Jack is uniquely deserving, but because he's not. The argument advanced time and again is that of solidarity. That actually the Vulcans are wrong and throwing people to the wolves because it would be more efficient from a consequentialist view is an error.

Now you don't have to buy that and I don't think Picard S3 actually did a great job of making this argument (major credit to Todd Stashwick for making what could easily have been yet another in a long line of Starfleet antagonists who have taken consequentialism too far and made him seem like the smartest guy in the room a lot of the time.)

But! If you think for instance that Turkey ought to be kicked out of NATO for its treatment of the Kurds with full recognition of the potential of earthquakes in the geopolitics of Southeastern Europe and the Middle East, or that the US is right to risk nuclear war to help Ukraine*: then there is an argument for sending a message to bad guys that there are people who will put skin in the game because its the right thing to do even if the risks are extreme. You could even make consequentialist arguments for following one's conscience that are rooted in solidarity and inspiring better behavior from others who may be inclined towards timidity.

*You are free to disagree with either of these propositions if that disagreement is rooted in reality and a legible ethical argument, I'm mainly using these as analogies rather than trying to sell the reader on them. The what, hows, whys, and other contingencies of geopolitics are fussy, the consequence vast, and I don't mean to flatten them.

Admittedly the debate over individualism vs consequentialism and Jack's narrative role is an argument that I think would have been strengthened if the series hadn't done an abrupt 180 on the recurring themes of the validity of people trying to solve problems on their own without having to be in Starfleet.

But there again, I get what was trying to be signaled by putting Jack, Raffi, and Seven on the bridge: Starfleet is turning the corner on excessive proceduralism. Which incidentally forgets that at several points in the narrative, the entire season might have been derailed if people had listened to Shaw, although I'm not unaware of the counter arguments about solidarity, humanity, and standing up to bullies....these just weren't arguments that were made well.

[miekasa]

out of levi, satoru, nanami and loid, which would complain to you about how tired they are of playing/appearing as the bad cop in front of your kids? (and which wouldn't care lol)

I don’t really think any of them are the “bad cop”—the closest of the four of them is probably Loid, but luckily for him his child finds his cool and stern persona entertaining, rather than overly serious, in most cases; either way, he means well, he’s just... a little too “adult” about it sometimes. When he’s not in his head about coming across as this model parent, he can even be childlike himself.  

Satoru has had the brand of cool father figure far before he had actual spawn of his own, so he’s rarely ever the authoritarian. Even in his moments of serious caution or worry, he’s pretty good at making sure he comes across as collected and phrases his words in such a way that your child(ren) can clearly understand what he’s saying. The few times he must be the stern one, he’s the one that can’t stand it LMFAOO. The first time he has to give your twin boys a time out, he’s all deep-voiced and furrow-browed in front of them, but the second he turns the corner to your bedroom, he’s weeping in your arms, “I hated that! They looked like they were going to cry for a moment—I can’t make them cry; I’m not cut out for this. I should apologize, do you think I was too harsh? But they have to learn to play nice together—ugh!! It’s been long enough, I’m gonna ask if they still love me.”  

While he may seem like the stern type, Kento is more steady than anything. He’s a calm, solid presence for your children, and so sometimes it leads people to thinking he’s the hardass between you two, but he can be quite lenient. He doesn’t mind kids taking risks, even if it might hurt them, because he knows he’ll be there to repair any consequential damage. The stern part only comes out when he thinks something is too dangerous or potentially harmful; his words are still calm and phrased well for a child to understand—and most importantly, he’s willing to clearly explain his boundaries to questioning minds—but they are also certain and final if he believes it’s what’s best to take care of them.  

No child of Levi’s would believe that he’s the bad cop even for a second LMFAOO. His kids know their father to be many things—gentle in mannerisms and tone, particular about the food he feeds them, clear cut about rules concerning respect, but never the disciplinarian; if anything, they understand that he’ll get mean with anyone who hurts them, but never at them. The thing is, there’s hardly ever a need for that side of either of you to come out. Levi is the pinnacle of leading by example; he wouldn’t lend a side to himself to his children that he wouldn’t expect them to follow—and your children hang onto everything he says and does, because to them, he’s the coolest person in the world. If and when they say or do something... potentially disrespectful, it’s only because they were copying Levi LMFAOO and he can’t really fault them for that (yes, he will try to explain to them that there’s a time and a place to voice their distastes, but, hey everybody’s entitled to an opinion in his house).

[ruelpsen]

heyyy I'm the anon who asked about submitting writing and happy to announce, it is done!

I loved the monster tropes so here are my characters Vesper, a Fae, and his human partner Salem with Vesper's stomach being sensitive to human food. Hopefully no typos in this!

Vesper was not good at self-preservation.

In fact, he was so bad at it, even his partner joked he had more of an anti-survival instinct if anything. He was great at being responsible for others but himself? He didn’t take that very seriously. Being a Fae, this wasn’t necessarily surprising, they tended to be a bit more reckless than many other species but also being a Fae living in the human realm, it was a little bit more consequential than under a lot of other circumstances.

These reckless behaviours didn’t stop at food. Salem was always quick to lecture them on both eating too fast or eating things they both knew would not be good for him. They could probably tell him a hundred times and he would still not learn his lesson, in fact they might have already have told him a hundred times. And Vesper of all people knew he should know better, he was a nurse, any other Fae might be uneducated about what they weren’t supposed to eat in the human world but he certainly was not. He just chose to ignore that knowledge because he had simply grown quite fond of human food.

And today was just one of those days were he just had to overindulge.

It had been a long shift, Vesper was exhausted and craved nothing more than to just get home. Well, that and fast food. After stopping in some random drive-through, he practically devoured his meal still in his car. Honestly, even at that point, he was very aware that he was going to regret it but it just tasted so good, he didn’t want to stop himself. At least he knew Salem wouldn’t mind, if anything they’d be just the slightest bit happy about it. They did seem to like rubbing his tummy and comforting him whenever he’d have an upset stomach (which was probably more often than he cared to admit).

By the time he had arrived at their apartment, he could already feel his stomach disagreeing with his choice of food, churning and gurgling and bloating uncomfortably. He attempted to relieve himself with a few quiet burps but none aided to ease the growing discomfort in his belly. It felt like something in him just squirmed and he made a bit of a face as he entered the flat. “Salem, I’m home”, he called while kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. Nothing came back in response but that wasn’t unusual, his partner was probably just immersed in either an audio book or just studying. One way or another, Vesper didn’t bother calling again.

He found his partner nestled in their bedroom, huddled in blankets and surrounded by notes and books, apparently very absorbed in whatever they were reviewing. Salem looked up suddenly, having noticed the movement in their peripheral vision and immediately picked up on the visible discomfort on Vesper’s face. They took off their headphones, letting them hang around their neck loosely. “So? You got anything to tell me?” The Fae looked at the floor sheepishly, unable to suppress a hiccup rising from their throat. “Over- hic- ate a little after work…”

“And now?”

“And now I’m bloated…” He felt another burp rise in his chest but managed to swallow it down.

Salem sighed with faked resignation before putting away the scattered papers and books neatly on the nightstand and opening up their blanket cocoon with one hand. They petted their thighs with the other in an inviting manner. “Come here you big baby.” They weren’t actually mad, how could they when Vesper looked to cute when he was bloated and needed some relief? The Fae toddled over and wordlessly sat down into their lap. His partner was warm. So was the blanket they wrapped around him. It was comforting and hopefully it would help with the bloating a little. Salem’s hand snaked between their bodies and skilfully opened his pants. His stomach expanded near immediately, at least that’s what it felt like, but it did ease a tiny amount of pressure.

“When will you learn, huh? I thought Faes were so smart, yet you do this at least once a week.”, they teased.

Vesper pressed his forehead into their shoulder as their palm rubbed soft circles into his taut stomach. “I blame this on s- hicuuurp stress… Sorry…” Salem shrugged faintly. “No need to apologize. You know I don’t mind. You’re pretty lucky with that though, I bet not everyone would be so happy to comfort you.” He attempted to answer something, opening his mouth but instead of words, the only thing that came out was a huge, airy belch rumbling through his small body. “Ugh, that felt good…” They snickered a little. “Yeah, I bet it did. How can your stomach hold this much gas, you’re like five feet tall.”

“Five foot one, I’ll have youuuUUOOORRrp know…” At this point, between the teasing words and the relief from the gas finally escaping from his stomach, he did not attempt to do anything to stifle or hide his burps.

Vesper could practically hear the grin in their voice now. “And yet you make more noise than people I know twice your size.” “Well, Faes are magic- hic- magical.” He flexed his abdominal muscles, trying to force out more air but apart from some small burps nothing came up. “Hold on, it’suuuurp it’s stuck, ugh…” Salem hummed, giving another push to his stretched tummy and feeling something move but it only drew an uncomfortably noise from the Fae. “Hm… Okay, gimme a second and let me try something else.” Their hand moved slowly over his side and to his back and began rubbing small circles into his back. While it was somewhat soothing, it didn’t really help.

“What’s that supposed to do…?” Salem didn’t answer, just started gently patting his back over the middle of his ribcage. Again, it didn’t do much and Vesper was struggling to wonder what exactly Salem was trying to do until-

“buuurrrRRRROORRRP!”

The Fae moaned with relief, his stomach feeling suddenly much less full as the monstrous belch erupted from his throat. “Holy shit, that felt amazing…” His partner smiled down at him. “See? I knew this would help.” Salem leaned down to kiss him and before Vesper could do anything another throaty belch ripped through him. Hot embarrassment flooded his entire body as he pulled away and immediately looked down to avoid whatever reaction awaited him next. Not that his partner wasn’t used to his upset stomach and bloating but this had to be a new low. Instead, all he got was a loving pet of his hair. “That was so cute. You could do that more often and I wouldn’t mind.”

They sounded so flirty, it was completely out-of-character but it just made Vesper flush even more.

“Shut up, youuuurp- you and your stupid kink…”

Salem just shrugged again. “Come on, you gotta be stuffing yourself like this on purpose at least a little bit, don’t deny it turns you on a little bit that it gets me going.”

As his stomach rumbled once again when his partner began rubbing it again and he felt another burp rise into his chest, Vesper made the sudden realization that this was going to be one very long evening and simply leaned against their shoulder again in defeat.

Ooh, I love this! I just know people are going to love it too...

[thesinglesjukebox]

TYLA - "WATER"

We conclude our 2023 pop highlights reel with a true highlight for us. Stay tuned next week for our individual writers' picks!

[8.12]

Crystal Leww: Amapiano has felt like a vital part of dance music education for a while now -- Ballantine's was sponsoring Boiler Room shows in South Africa back in 2018, Major League DJz collabed with Major Lazer, Uncle Waffles is playing mega EDM clubs like Brooklyn Mirage, and you can catch regular amapiano club nights in East Asia. It might seem surprising that this house subgenre has inspired so many people to party to it, with its lower BPM and jazzy feeling, but amapiano shows are energy -- all about that feeling of locking in a groove all night. Tyla's "Water" is the genre's first true pop moment, and it captures the je nais se quoi of the dance music subgenre incredibly well -- it's actually sexy. It feels like sweat on sweat, bodies bouncing against each other, hands gripping waists, hips swaying, a private moment in a very public place. That feeling, combined with a killer vocal hook, makes "Water" easy to like even as it approaches peak saturation. [7]

Leah Isobel: "Fuck me so hard I can't walk straight"? Boring. "Fuck me so hard I literally transmute into the source of life"? Now we're talking. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The most transformative quote I read this year was from Canadian filmmaker Ellie Epp: "Receiving a touch is as active as giving it -- sometimes more active, more skilled and more consequential. Erotic attention isn't an empty bowl touch is poured or pushed into; it is more like a living antenna with a million fibers actively searching the space of the touch for its shape and meaning." "Water" puts that idea into a song. Never the amapiano purist, Tyla has taken the genre's log drum loops and flagellating synths and placed them into the framework of Westernized R&B. And yet, this has the spirit of a longform, South African dance track because of her smooth vocals -- they ensure it remains undemanding but seductive. The chorus is one of the year's most celebratory: a group chant extolling the desire to feel desire. [9]

Michelle Myers: Tyla performs yearning with expert sensuality. Piano keys flutter around her like songbirds around a sad, horny Disney princess. [7]

David Moore: At the beginning of the year, I had a moment of clarity -- Rihanna needs to make an amapiano album. Then the thought faded, because (1) that's not really how amapiano works, the idea of having an R&B personality commanding the groove doesn't really let you groove; (2) that's not really how Rihanna works, it is a mistake to even think of Rihanna as a pop star in 2023; and (3) god, it could be so fucking awful, couldn't it, GET A JOB, etc. But Tyla stepped up to the plate, subsuming amapiano elements in the service of her performance at the center of an R&B song, but keeping amapiano's spiritual sense that every song is perpetually in media res; a song could start anywhere and go anywhere (or nowhere) and in some sense never end. Water is the perfect image, too: more fluid than the glassy surfaces of Naija pop and Afrobeats, but less opaque than amapiano's immersive haze. The song is pitched as sexy, which it sort of is, but there's a serenity in it, some cosmic comfort in knowing that someone's really figured it out, that this is exactly what it's supposed to sound like on those rare occasions you turn the radio on. [9]

William John: Initially, "Water" seemed innocuous compared to the frenetic, Tricky Stewart-assisted "Been Thinking", or the colossal amapiano classic "Getting Late"; it didn't scream "breakthrough" to me. I quickly came to understand that its popularity with butt-shaking TikTokers and the general public alike was more than warranted, the hook and irresistible drum roll burrowing its way into every one of my brain's recesses. [8]

Katherine St Asaph: Most of "Water" is so perfectly crystalline and intimate, such a rarefied fount of sound, that the loud singalong chorus is like a rock in the flow of the stream, breaking the spell a little. But only a little. [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Tyla's voice is so diaphanous and airy, it's a shame that the hook is drowned out by an unnecessary chorus. (Don't get me started on the Travis Scott remix.) [6]

Brad Shoup: I love the chorus as much for what it says--I'm not sure sweating has even sounded so effortless--as for its, well, choral quality. It's like spiritual jazz nestled in lovers rock. [8]

Frank Falisi: There's so much to celebrate in the slip, wash, and sway of "Water." There's the way it mixes the insistence of beat with melty gobs of just-kissed electric piano, something driving the body, something touching it surprised. There's the way it waves the drone of a heartthrob at the perfect form of a pop song, wanting to please, pleasing to want. There's so much that I'll just say: the half-second delay in the chorus--between "make me" and then "sweat," "holler," "lose," and especially "water"... it makes me feel in love, and at ease in not having love, but finding its symbols and acolytes in the changes of a song, a little wait, a little get. [9]

Kayla Beardslee: This is actually my least favorite of Tyla's singles in the past year ("Been Thinking"? An incredible star-making slay. "To Last"? Gorgeous. "Girl Next Door" with Ayra Starr? Two of my favorite rising pop artists coming together for a lovely collaboration.) But "least favorite" is just a technicality in the face of strong competition, and "Water" still drips with charisma, promise, and a killer hook. I only wish I hadn't found out that Tyla was touring with Chris Brown earlier this year. [7]

Ian Mathers: This is a great performance and a heck of a debut, but the thing my ear keeps focusing on and what has me nodding my head are (what a very confused "what is this called?" search informs me are) the rim clicks running throughout "Water." Really it's the way those dry little sounds propel and work against the grain of the rest of the song, rather than one isolated element, but that's what I keep going back to here. [8]

Alfred Soto: The rim clicks act as foundation and another harmonic element next to which the clarity of Tyla's voice can shine -- and these happen before the choir. [8]

Michael Hong: One of the many striking features of "Water" is how solid it feels. Tyla's verses and its beat prove to be malleable, yet the chorus is made up of dense layers. "Make me water," she demands, sexy, only because it's a challenge. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: A perfect groove, but more than that, too. Tyla's vocal sashays around the pulses of the beat, drawing up into an exquisite lift as she sings "can you blow my mind" -- like many of her lines here it's at once a question, an exhortation, and a challenge. Like, can you blow her mind? For the length of "Water," Tyla sounds utterly implacable, a singer with such intimate knowledge of her own skills and the affordances of the beat that it reads as something supernatural. Let me live forever in the spaces of this song. [10]

Nortey Dowuona: The power of amapiano is that it feels light and nimble in the drum programming, gently twirling below whatever is going on the song and allowing you to melt into the mood and spin along to the rhythm. At every stage of its ride to worldwide popularity, it's become gentler and softer, until the heavy logdrum bass hammers down, rippling the tranquility and reminding you of the tempest below. That dissonance is what makes it exciting and engaging, but the fun part of "Water" is that it keeps that tempest at bay, allowing anyone to wade into it. Tyla is a graduate of the Aaliyah/Rihanna light key school, a lilting soprano that comfortably soars into her highest range and stabilizes at her lowest, opening the first verse on a proud, firm step and settling into it. Each run into the precious prechorus is poised, capable and stunning. And whenever the familiar logdrum pattern does erupt, Tyla dances nimbly away, her voice light yet stable enough to not be overpowered, fluid and ever-changing and so fundamental it can't be separated without killing the song altogether. Just like water. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[honoviadakai]

Russia and his big and little sisters

This is sort of a continuation of this post because I’m having Hetalia brain rot rn so why not share the spoils?

In my last post I explained my theory that General winter could potentially be the spirit of the deceased father of the Slavic Siblings (Ukraine, Russia and Belarus), I also stated that he might be latched onto Ivan specifically for one of 2 reasons.

Reason number one is basically the idea that because he is dead and Ivan is the only boy in the family, he is now the “man of the house” and has to become stronger as soon as possible to be able to protect his family. Therefore, attaching himself to Ivan would serve as a way to both protect his children even in death but also it would just help Ivan, the son he sees a lot of potential in, grow stronger very quickly.

Reason number two however is slightly different. Attaching himself to Ivan would still be General Winter’s way of protecting his kids, that part does not change. What does change is how General Winter views Ivan. General Winter would see Ivan as the weakest link and attach himself to his young son during his early childhood because he needs his protection and guidance far more than his sisters do.

I personally believe that between the 3 siblings, Russia was indeed the weakest sibling and even in modern day, still is.

I’m aware that in hetalia’s cannon Ukraine is a major crybaby/pushover, Russia can destroy tanks with his bare hands and eat thumbtacks without batting an eye and that Belarus is really tiny when compared to her siblings and relies on them(most Russia) for everything. So by that logic, Russia’s the stronger sibling, right?

Not really. We see more of Russia’s fighting abilities because his one of the main 8 characters of the series and consequentially, his sisters aren’t featured as much as he is. However, a lot of times they are featured, Russia seems to be very cautious around them and they seem to baby him a lot, especially when they were younger.

When the siblings are younger, an interesting thing I noticed is that of the 3, Ivan is the one that is almost always anxiously looking out for other attacking nations while his sisters seem almost completely unbothered by the presence of the other nations living around them. While Young Russia is running away from and dealing with stronger nations like Mongolia, Sweden, Denmark and the Teutonic knights. Ukraine and Belarus on the other hand are either doing chores and foraging/hunting or even fooling around and making snow boobies.

Even while the other nations are trying to conquer Russia, they aren’t actively trying to attack his sisters even if it might be a tactical advantage for them to try and take over all 3 siblings. They clearly aren’t solely focusing on Russia because we see Lithuania becoming a target too. Even Russia was trying to recruit him to his side because Lithuania(at the time) was stronger than than he was.

When Russia is sulking over being rejected by a hamster, Prussia comes to their home, fully intending to fight him, but once Ukraine tells him to come back some other time he doesn’t get confrontational with her. Of course he gets pouty but he makes no attempt to challenge her in any way shape or form. He just says “oh that sucks” and leaves their home and everyone who lives there alone, all because Ukraine told him very nicely to leave. Had Russia been the one to tell him to leave I have no doubts he’d not only ignore him but he’d rudely barge in and degrade him the entire time.

In modern day they the only people on the planet that make Ivan, a 6’10 global powerhouse, nervous. All throughout their interactions in the anime manga and even in drama CDs, Ivan is doing everything in his power not to upset his sisters and even gets very scared at any indications that their mood is souring. Most of it could be that he’s trying to avoid Natalya’s incestuous advances without angering her, and that is true, but keep in mind the girl essentially yeeted a doorknob off a door because she was upset it was keeping her and her brother apart. Clearly strength is genetic in this family so I fully believe Irunya is capable of wrecking Ivan’s shit and Ivan is fully aware of this fact.

I think Irunya is a bit of a crybaby as a facade. Ivan smiles a lot to look friendly to others, so they both try to manipulate how people view them, Irunya is just better at executing this tactic. She wants to come across as friendly to others and if she has to act like a ditzy farm girl that’s easily brought to tears, she’s fine with that because it gets people to invite her to events, it gets her to make friends. She is the oldest child and had to take care of her siblings for their entire childhood. She’s fought through and survived many hard battles. She’s probably at a point where she just wants to live in peace and will do anything to hold onto that peace. Fighting will be the last thing she does but I feel once she reaches that point, the gauntlets will come off, mercy is no longer an option with her at that point.

Natalya on the other hand very clearly has fighting spirit and skill, but I feel like she holds back a lot so her brother can come across as the stronger, superior fighter. She doesn’t care about making friends but she cares a lot about how her brother feels and how people see him so she’s more than willing to look like a weakling in comparison to him and maybe even take a few punches from him if needed. Ivan may be capable of tearing through metal like it’s paper but Natalya just seems faster, she looks like she could run from across a football stadium, in heels, in under 30 seconds. Ivan may pack a harder punch than his baby sister but he could not punch her both because he loves her and because I just don’t think he’s fast enough to even touch her if he really tied to attack her. As long as she can stay by Ivan’s side she’s relatively peaceful but if Ivan ever flat out tells her to leave him alone, she will stop holding back.

Ivan has known his sisters his whole life so he knows how to navigate around their feelings. That does not save him from being occasionally reminded that they are both capable of ripping his spine out of his body and shoving it down his throat as a warning. The girls allow their brother to carry the title of one of the worlds strongest nations purely because they love him so much, but if they ever become cross with him they have no reservations about reminding him that they’re still capable of kicking his ass and Ivan lives in constant fear of angering his sisters.

As much as he loves his sisters, he knows just how terrifying they can be and strives to be just as strong if not stronger than his family.

[interlagosed]

Where they ever shy around each other at the beginning of their relationship? I can imagine Lando was a bit shy. like maybe after they first saw each other naked Carlos was completely fine with standing in the shower I’m front of Lando or changing in front of him. But for Lando maybe it took a bit longer to be 100% confident with that.

Here's an elaborate answer in the form of Chapter 2 of electricity that I never finished and might not finish LOL.

//

At some point, their shirts became unbearably sticky. It didn't even lend itself to the kind of hot making-out that Carlos had so frequently imagined, on the top step of the podium while anonymous faces drenched them in champagne. And Carlos tried his best, but anytime his shirt came into contact with Lando's skin, it squelched and Carlos had dreamed about this moment too much to let his shirt ruin it now.

"Lando," Carlos said, tracing Lando's jaw (something he could actually do now! Without having to suavely brush it off as inconsequential even though it was deeply consequential!). "I promise I am not trying to make it weird-"

 "Mate, we're proper snogging. It's already weird." 

"Proper snogging," Carlos mimicked, making a face. "You Brits have such weird names for things. Anyway, uh. Should I take my shirt off? I…don't want to leave but I also…" 

In lieu of words, Carlos just flapped his arms. His shirt, as predicted, squelched. Lando scrunched up his face, and a small part of Carlos wondered if Lando was going to kick him out. 

"Yeah, that's not super sexy…" 

Then Lando's eyes lit up. At the same time, he blushed hard. Carlos looked at him, curious. 

Lando cleared his throat. "We, uh. We could. We could shower." 

Carlos stared at Lando. He couldn't bring himself to comprehend what Lando was suggesting. 

"Shower," he repeated, slowly. 

Lando blushed even harder. Carlos wanted to touch his cheek. Then he realized he could. So he did, and Lando immediately leaned into the touch. The moment nearly took Carlos' breath away. 

"We could just shower together," Lando said, as though Carlos' touch grounded him. "I have some spare jerseys and sweatpants that ought to fit you. You could…" 

He blushed harder, and at this point it seemed like an impossibility. "You could…stay the night." 

This time, Carlos actually was winded. He scrounged for any amount of oxygen he could muster, then said, "We don't have to do anything." 

"Yeah, no, I'm not-" 

"I don't wanna pressure-" 

"Just sleeping-" 

They stared at each other. Then Carlos laughed, smacking his own forehead. "I feel like you're my first boyfriend. Mierda. I've been with people before, I swear." 

Lando gaped at him, and Carlos frowned. "Lando? Did I say some-" 

"Am I?" Lando stammered. "Boyfriend. I mean. Not first. But… are we?" 

Carlos felt like he should be panicking, but he couldn't muster the strength. He was already making an idiot of himself. Might as well lean into the honesty.

"I would like, Lando, for you to be my boyfriend," Carlos said slowly, as much for his own benefit as Lando's. He watched Lando's eyes widen. "If you want. Also."

"Yes. Holy shit. Yeah." 

Lando touched Carlos' knee. Carlos laughed shakily. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"Boyfriends?" 

"Yeah," Lando said, wonder in his voice. He grinned haplessly at Carlos. "Wow."

"I have been waiting a long time for this," Carlos murmured, almost to himself. He felt almost emotional. He had never felt this way with any of his past relationships. But then, he also had never fallen in love at first sight before. 

“Well,” Lando said, taking Carlos’ hand. He stood up. Carlos looked up at him, this beautiful, brilliant man, with his gorgeous features and insane talent - his boyfriend. “Shower’s not gonna take itself. Come on.”

Carlos grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had ever before. He let Lando yank him up, following him into the en suite, feeling like the happiest man alive. 

Then he realized the gravity of the moment. Lando stripped off, shirt first, and while Carlos had seen Lando shirtless before, this felt different. More intimate. Lando threw the shirt aside, looking at Carlos. Carlos took off his own shirt, and stepped towards Lando.

“Can I…?”

Lando nodded, silent. Carlos reached, gingerly, to brush his knuckles against Lando’s arm. Lando shivered, and Carlos felt something inside him break. He pulled Lando against himself, pressing their lips together into a heated kiss. He almost panicked; was this too much, too fast? But then Lando moaned, pressing himself even closer to Carlos, and Carlos knew that Lando wanted this proximity as much as Carlos did. Lando tucked his fingers into the waistband of Carlos' pants, opening his mouth against Carlos'. Carlos pushed his tongue into Lando's mouth, and Lando moaned loud enough to make Carlos’ skin erupt in goosebumps even under the steam and heat.  Had he expected Lando to be shy? Yes, he had. And maybe Lando was. But in that moment, clinging to Carlos, his body flush against Carlos’, Lando’s tongue running against Carlos’, it was Carlos who felt overwhelmed with Lando - but in the best fucking way.

[crownjimin]

☆ ⁄⁄ ★ 052 | a simple solution

coffee — the enemies to lovers social media au where min yoongi refuses to date a cheerleader, but yoon haryun might be able to change that.

( masterlist / prev / next )

tag(s): @secretlycrazyhummingbird @preciouschimine @bubblytaetae @btsarmymochi97 @chogiyeol-utopia @flyxfall @cherrybubblesandvodka

☆ ⁄⁄ ★

As hard as she tried, Haryun could not deter her friends from returning to her apartment after their night at Hope World.

In large, public settings, her friends weren’t big partiers. They would be discreet with their drinking, tone down their voices, and behave tame compared to behind closed doors. While at Haryun’s apartment, they drowned themselves in alcohol they loved, spoke crudely and informally, and submerged themselves in one another’s presence that they acted like complete idiots.

Haryun would have welcomed the intrusion any other night, but as she planned on continuing her studies, she needed complete solitude. Not the erratic screams from Geummi and the consequential yells of scolding from Seyoung telling her to calm down.

From the moment the seven of them—eight when you count Jungkook—entered the apartment, Haryun sequestered herself in her room with a pot of coffee. The clock neared three AM as Moonhee grabbed a nearly empty bottle of wine and joined the seven other occupants of her apartment in the living room.

Geummi, Luda, and Namie lay on top of one another on the couch while Seyoung claimed the loveseat that was adjacent to the sofa. Moonhee took a spot on the floor in front of the couch while Jungkook and Yebin cuddled together on the floor in front of the loveseat. A random television show played in the background as everyone murmured amongst themselves, Moonhee taking occasional slugs directly from the wine bottle to sate her cravings.

“So, wait,” Geummi slurred from her spot in Namie’s lap. “Yebinie. Jungkookie. You’ve been together for how long?”

Jungkook, with his arms, wrapped securely around Yebin, answered. “Four years in November.”

Yebin nodded in agreement and leaned into Jungkook’s hold, comfortably on his chest. “We started dating when we were fifteen.”

“That’s too long,” Moonhee grumbled as she slammed the wine bottle onto the coffee table with a thud. “Way too long.”

Yebin shrugged in response. “I love him.”

And as if Jungkook hadn’t expected Yebin to say that, he cooed as he kissed her cheek. “You’re the sweetest.”

Geummi dramatically clapped at their show of affection while Namie scoffed in jealous disgust. Seyoung was in the kitchen, fixing everyone's glasses of ice-cold water that she constantly bombarded them with every few minutes. She focused on Geummi, seeing as she was the drunkest out of everyone.

“I think Jungkookie and Yebinie have a cute relationship,” Seyoung said as she shoved a glass in Luda’s face. “I wanna be just like them when I grow up.”

“They’re cute.” Luda deadpanned before she downed the entire glass in a few gulps and handed it back to Seyoung. “I just think relationships take a lot of work.”

“Not when you want it to work out, Noona,” Jungkook responded. “It’s easy with Yebin. We just make sure to communicate with each other.”

Once again, Namie scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”

“It isn’t Unnie,” Yebin softly spoke. She understood that Namie had a rough night and wasn’t saying these things to be mean; she was just emotional. “It helps if you both really and truly want to be together. Relationships work two ways.”

“Maybe that’s why I can’t ever be happy,” Namie slowly answered. Everyone heard her, but knowing that Namie hated mentioning anything about her love life, they let it pass and allowed her space and time.

The group tuned back into the television for a few moments. Everything leveled and calmed for what seemed like the first time that night. Moonhee slowly made her way to the end of the wine bottle, stubbornly refusing Seyoung’s glasses of water anytime she offered. 

“I don’t think-“

“MOONHEE-YAH!”

Haryun screamed from her room, her voice reverberating through the apartment so loud that it silenced everyone in shock. For a brief moment, Moonhee hadn’t registered that it was her name that Haryun yelled, but once she did, she jumped up and ran straight to her room.

The first thought to come to Moonhee’s mind was that Haryun was in trouble. The scream sounded panicked, like she needed immediate attention, and Moonhee planned to give it to her. But as she pushed open the door to Haryun’s room, instead of being welcomed to an ongoing struggle or injury, she was faced with Haryun’s phone shoved in her face and what looked like unshed tears in Haryun’s eyes.

“What is this,” Haryun hissed.

Moonhee was still slightly tipsy and had pushed up from the floor a little too fast, so everything was blurred. Instead of attempting to read whatever was on the phone screen, Moonhee shrugged and muttered, “What is it?”

“Your text,” Haryun stuttered. “You texted me-“

She paused to turn her phone back towards herself to read aloud. “When you get here, don’t look for yoongi. Why-Why couldn’t I have looked for Yoongi?”

Almost instantly, Moonhee sobered up. Her eyebrows raised dramatically, giving away her panic before she could adequately school her expression back to confusion and nonchalant. And Haryun could read Moonhee well enough to catch the millisecond shift in her facial expression to know she was about to lie.

“And don’t lie to me!”

“Well, shit,” Moonhee muttered in response. She had no choice. 

She kept quiet for a few moments, gathering her thoughts and thinking of a friendly and gentle way to tell her best friend that the same guy she had been fretting about over the past two weeks had been doing the complete opposite. Hell, to Moonhee, Yoongi seemed fine, almost as if he wasn’t worried about anything at all.

If Moonhee weren’t so sure that Haryun had strong feelings for the idiot, she would’ve punched him.

With a deep sigh that took a few moments to resonate, Moonhee spoke up. “Well, I guess I saw Yoongi with Yooa--lets be clear, I saw him kissing her.”

“You guess,” It took less than a moment for Haryun to respond. Almost as if she didn’t take the time to let everything sink in. “Or are you positive?”

Loud and hurried footsteps echoed outside the bedroom door, drawing both girls’ attention to the closed door just as it swung open and three bodies burst through it. Geummi came in with the most force, falling straight to the ground with drunken giggles. Namie was right behind her, holding the doorframe as Luda crashed into her back with how fast Namie had halted.

“I fell.” Geummi deadpanned before she, Luda, and Namie laughed in sync. 

Haryun knew that this meant they would have to pause their conversation to situate the three drunk stooges that had just burst into her room. There was no question that the three would be staying at Haryun and Moonhee’s apartment. They were too drunk to reach the front door, much less their apartment.

So as Haryun helped Geummi off the floor, Moonhee ushered Luda and Namie into the room and softly guided them toward Haryun’s bed. The bed wasn’t large by any means, it was a full size, but that was no trouble for the three girls. As soon as they climbed in, they latched onto one another in a drunken mess but managed to fit together like puzzle pieces.

Moonhee refused to leave them alone, so until she was sure the three were asleep, she forced Haryun to sit on the floor with her until the three drunk girls’ breaths were even. It took a few “shut ups” and “go to sleep,” but after twenty minutes, Haryun was positive they had all fallen asleep.

With oblivious hope, Moonhee thought Haryun had dropped the conversation and forgotten what they had been talking about before their interruption. But with the force that Haryun gripped Moonhee’s wrist and tugged her across the hall, Moonhee knew that Haryun was only getting started.

“Yun-ah, I don’t think-”

“No,” Haryun’s answer was curt and concise. “No. Tell me. Please.”

Moonhee scanned Haryun’s face and could tell she was struggling. She had no idea why Haryun wanted to know so bad, mainly because it would only hurt her in the end, but Haryun was her best friend, and they kept no secrets.

“At the party, Yoongi was kissing Yooa,” Moonhee repeated, watching Haryun’s reaction close. “I didn’t see a lot, but they were together most of the night. And the last thing I saw was them kissing.”

The air went still as Moonhee’s words still flowed through the air. The cogs in Haryun’s brain were turning as she took her time to process the words. She understood that Yoongi had kissed someone. That all made sense. But she couldn’t wrap her head around the stinging in her heart, the knot of air in her throat, and the pressure of tears behind her eyes.

That was what happened when Haryun was upset. When she wanted to cry, but that wasn’t the case.

“Okay…. Was that it?”

Moonhee had perched herself on the edge of her bed moments ago, but Haryu’s faux nonchalance is what got her to shoot up in disbelief. “No, no, no. Tell me how you’re feeling. Be honest with me. Bare it all.”

“I have,” Haryun shook her head in response. “I am-”

“No, either you tell me the truth, or you’re sleeping on the couch.”

The injunction might’ve seemed futile and like a joke to others, but Haryun knew what it meant. Sleeping on the couch was a metaphor of sorts for the silent treatment. And when Moonhee put Haryun on the silent treatment, it was unbearable. The way Moonhee practically acted as if Haryun didn’t exist made living with her brutal, it had only happened once in the past, but that was enough for Haryun never to want to experience it again.

The erratic beating of her heart hurt a lot. It dawned on Haryun what her behavior meant, why she was so hysterical about Yoongi kissing someone else, why she was so disappointed that he had yet to text her—to pay attention to her.

A smug, conceited smirk sat on Moonhee’s lips, and if Haryun didn’t love her so much, she would’ve slapped her. Moonhee had known. She was Haryun’s best friend. For crying out loud, she knew what every emotion of Haryun’s looked like, even if Haryun had trouble deciphering her feelings. It sickened her to the core, but her best friend was right.

“So, what are we feeling tonight, Yun-ah?” Moonhee’s tone was all-knowing as she crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands together.

Haryun was speechless. Not because she couldn’t find the words—she knew what Moonhee wanted from her, but she refused to say it. Did it only take fourteen days for Haryun to feel something for Min Yoongi? Was it the coffee, or was it his stupid gummy smile? Maybe it was his cat-like eyes and the dark pools of brown that had Haryun dreaming of him day in and day out. Or was it the way he spoke to her? Like he understood her every word and hung onto them like they were honey to his ears.

“My god,” Haryun quietly groaned. “I like Yoongi.”

“I’m sorry,” Moonhee leaned forward as she cupped a hand behind her ear, beckoning Haryun to speak up. “I don’t think I heard that.”

With a huff, Haryun repeated herself, this time with confidence. “I like Yoongi.”

“Oh good,” Moonhee smiled. “Now tell him that.”

“You must want me to combust because I will do that before Yoongi ever hears those words from my mouth.”

“But he likes you too!”

Haryun snorted in disbelief. “Oh really? What told you that? Was it him making out with Yooa tonight, or maybe it was that he hasn’t spoken to me in two weeks!”

“We won’t know until you tell him!”

“I will be doing no such thing,” Haryun grew fearful at the idea of revealing her feelings to Yoongi. “I just want to wallow in self-pity until my undying love withers away naturally.”

“Now it’s love,” Moonhee raised her eyebrows in interest. “That’s way different than like, Yun Bun.”

“Oh, suck it! I want to have his children, okay!”

“Woah,” Moonhee was on her feet now, cautious with her words. “Haryun, if you’re serious about this, tell him.”

Silence swarmed the room for a few moments. Haryun’s eyes danced from wall to wall as she thought about the situation. Yes, telling Yoongi would make everything feel less stagnant, but Haryun was afraid. This type of thing overwhelmed her and made her want to cry.

So she did.

The first tear streamed down her cheek as she whined. “I can’t.”

Wordlessly, Moonhee wrapped her arms around Haryun as they stood in the middle of the room. There were many conversations between the two about Haryun’s trouble voicing her feelings. She was stubborn when it came to letting others know what she felt. Whether it was annoyance or fondness, Haryun never had a good way of communicating her more intense emotions, and Moonhee knew that.

But in this instance, Moonhee couldn’t let Haryun sabotage herself. Never had Moonhee seen Haryun fall for someone so fast, so intensely, so entirely that she had to convince her to do something.

“Let’s take baby steps,” Moonhee whispered into Haryun’s ear, her breath tickling the skin. “We don’t have to jump straight in, but we are doing this.”

Haryun whined more intensely as she burrowed deeper into Moonhee’s arms.

“But for tonight, let’s just sleep,” Moonhee suggested, turning the two of them towards the bed and tucking them under the covers.

Haryun cuddled up to Moonhee’s side as they sat in the room's darkness. Rhythmically, Moonhee rubbed Haryun’s back in a soothing pattern that Haryun could’ve slept immediately. 

But she didn’t.

Her mind was still racing with thoughts of Yoongi and Yooa and what they had done that night. Nothing perverse, but what Yoongi had felt with her compared to what Yoongi felt with Haryun. Was it more fulfilling?

Was this one night with Yooa better than the two weeks with Haryun?

A multitude of intrusive thoughts scrambles around Haryun’s mind as she attempts—and fails—to fall asleep in Moonhee’s arms. There was only so much she could take before she reached across Moonhee toward the nightstand and grabbed her phone from where it lay.

“You need to sleep,” Moonhee moaned with her eyes closed and breaths close to even. “It’s almost four.”

Ignoring her altogether, Haryun unlocked her phone and opened Instagram. She scrolled aimlessly for a few minutes, her thumb hesitant in how it scrolled as she felt her subconscious edge closer and closer to letting her impulsive actions win. There was a reason she grabbed her phone, and there was also a reason she helplessly scrolled until she was positive Moonhee was sleeping.

Into the search bar, Haryun typed hobisunrise as her heartbeat sped to a pace that felt inhumane. With one press of her finger, she came across Hobi’s account and pressed on his following tab.

There was a moment of reflection. Did Haryun want to do this? Was this the wisest choice? Probably not. But she was far too gone—far too desperate to care.

With the dried tear streaks still on her cheeks, Haryun typed yoongi into the search bar. As each letter appeared, the accounts disappeared once a solitary account was left.

yoon93 — 민윤기

Haryun slowly looked at Moonhee’s sleeping figure, knowing that if she were awake, she would’ve snatched the phone from Haryun’s hand with a quickness only she possessed. But Haryun planned for this, and with the freedom of Moonhee not knowing a thing, she pressed the profile and followed it.

Leisurely, she scrolled through his account. There were photos of Hoseok, a few of Namjoon, and a lot of Yoongi with his blond hair dressed in athletic wear either post or pre-practice. It was hard for Haryun not to comment a slew of heart emojis or write sonnets beneath his pictures about what he does to her heart, but she persevered.

Further down his account were photos of Yoongi and a girl months back. She didn’t look familiar to Haryun, but she was to Yoongi with how he looked at her in the pictures and had his arm wrapped around her in each.

Word around campus spread fast, whether by word of mouth or the SNU Student Updates account on Twitter. Never had anyone said Yoongi had a girlfriend or mentioned anyone that would be worthy of posting on his Instagram feed. In all honesty, Haryun paid no mind to Yoongi before their night at Hope World together, but rumors were rumors. And no matter how much you didn’t want to hear them, you did.

So why hadn’t she heard of this girl? And why had she never seen her before?

Seven photos of Yoongi and the mysterious girl were on his page, all within three months. But the most recent out of the seven had Haryun curious. With the way their mouths were centimeters apart, and their eyes gazed lovingly into one another’s, there was no question whether or not there was a romantic nature to these pictures—to their relationship. 

It confused Haryun and made everything so complicated.

With a deep sigh, Haryun prepared to sleep. She glanced at the picture just as Moonhee gasped before she jolted in her sleep. It startled Haryun, who locked her phone hastily, afraid to be caught by Moonhee with what she had been doing.

After she calmed the beating of her unpredictable heart, Haryun slid her phone beneath the pillow and shut her eyes to sleep. She’d deal with her stupid feelings tomorrow. Her night had been long enough between studying, dancing at Hope World, and crying about a guy that gave less than two craps about her.

It would bring her some stability to forget about Min Yoongi for a day. Maybe that would be the simple solution to all her problems.

( masterlist / prev / next )