#honeyboynetwork

[agushadow]

this happened within 2 seconds...

[eris0330]

Hiraeth - Thirteen

☽Pairing☾ ; BTS | Reader

☽Genre☾ ; Angst

☽Word Count☾ ; 2.1k

☽Summary☾ Returning back to Korea after years of being under the ground, to see your parents. You wished it was all it took, to feel complete again. The aftermath of confusion, betrayal and sorrow was the reason to never come back into the boys presents. But it wasn’t until, seeing one them enter the same cafe, at the right time.

☽M. List☾ ;  1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // 16 // 17 // 18 // 19 // 20 // 21 // 22 [ongoing]

As most of you know, I got RSI in my wrist and I wrote this chapter with mainly my left hand (non-dominant), so please bear with me if there are any typos or grammatical errors. (well, I always have grammatical errors so that shouldn’t be a surprise lol)

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Walking behind broad shoulders and his light blonde hair resembling every lamp above. You could only think about what was going to happen, when you couldn’t read his thoughts. It’s not that it was awkward, because you have known him for years but it was the idea, of going alone to a hotel together. You know what people meant, going to a love hotel and luckily, this one was rather luxurious like any other hotel, it must cost a fortune just for one night. His proposal of wanting a platinum room, probably made the premium cost become a lot higher. Wondering, if he even thought about the crowd of strangers outside that could have seen the scene progress to here. Even though you’re just friends, sometimes enemies, your heart felt like it was going to explode.

“569, Sir.” Standing to catch the glimpse of a golden door, the receptionist bowed once of respect before opening the door to watch the light flicker on. The man walking away with a light smile, to treat his other guests. Your silhouette lingering by the entrance as it didn’t take a second before Yoongi had settled for the edge of a king size bed to rest. His sighs were loud, but his voice was deep and rusty that I shook your bones.

“Are you going to come in, or what?” Shuffling inside as the door closed silently behind, it was like stepping into a new world. Your felt out of place and shocked of the fact, that this was how you were going to meet for the first time after so many years. Your coat put on the arm chair next to his leather jacket and your shoes properly displayed next to his by the door, you stepped over to sit beside him. The weight of the mattress wavering, making your hips budge against each other. Yoongi’s face was buried in the palm of his hands, unable to read his expression or thoughts. His cologne filling the room, sending old memories through your mind as time went by. Your legs squirming of the awkward silence, unknown to what the next thing was going to be.

“So… looks like Army could win a Hidden-things-game competition?” He spoke with a light smile, finally letting his face reveal from his cold hands. Your eyes meeting in a warm light, letting your sight fall upon his chocolate brown orbs. God how you missed it when he pouted while talking.

“Heh… yeah… I guess so…” Your words became unsettling, still nervous of the whole ordeal. Your true self was convinced they didn’t know you were back, but it was all a lie. Biting on your bottom lip, unsure what to ask about of all the things. How he was doing? What happened after the incident? Will you be able to meet the others? Did he still love yo-

“You look like Jungkook with that scar…” He blurted out, letting his finger trace along your cheekbone. Your own skin to skin contact, got you to automatically back away. He didn’t seem to be affected by it, but letting you settle back in position for him to continue stroking your cheek. It felt warm and nice, like home. There were no words exchanged, than the eye contact you kept.

“Well… The kids will be happy to see you” He spoke, retrieving his hand to his lap. An awkward smile formed on your face, while trying to laugh off the matter.

“Kids? Does that mean you call me a kid too? You’re not much older than me” You commented, finally feeling your body relax. But, something in every nerve were twitching. There was something missing and you couldn’t tell what it was.

“Well, no. Not always, but they are like kids. Like you, taking childish actions” He muttered, while blinking so painfully slow that you were unsure how to react. He didn’t show any emotions and for the first time, you felt like hitting him.

“Childish actions?” You questioned with narrowed brows, feeling the anger boil in your body.

“What do you want me to call it? Selfish?” He continued blurting out but kept his straight face. His hand forming to a knuckle, in the dim light on his jeans. He was angry and you could tell, this wasn’t a matter you would like to talk about either. But your own anger that build of the true fact, didn’t help to keep yourself calm.

“selfish???” Your voice was higher and threatening, making his lips form into a thin line. Arrowing his eyes on your body with a powerful clenching jaw, he took a deep breath before sticking his hands into his pockets.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Get some sleep, I’ll be going now.” He spoke, raising himself from the now, cold bed. His back turned your way and not being able to see your shocked expression of anger. You were now furious, of his sudden statement and then leaving you? Did he not have anything else to say? Nothing at all? There was a tiny bit regret in letting yourself follow him to here, but also that he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him. Your body responding quicker than your vocals could present words of how ungrateful he was, you caught the back of his collar to pull harder than ever. His body crashing upon the giant bed, as you straddled him with your weight and tying his hands down by force. You were slightly amazed of your strength, being able to pull him this far. A shocked expression formed on his face, noticing the tears that pooled in your eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Calling me selfish to make a choice, that would leave me out of pain?! Don’t you think I know already?!! I regret it, alright?! Telling me it’s selfish, is the first thing you can say to me?! I come back and it’s like you don’t even fucking care! Like I was never away!” Your words were practically falling out, as you yelled into his face. His eyes growing wider by every sentence you played out and at every crying word, it felt like a stab into his chest. His brows scrunched in anger, before feeling the strength of his own body, overpowering you. Your arms locked above your head and suddenly, you became the damsel in distress.

“Don’t care?! I’m a fucking nervous wreck right now, because of you!-” He practically yelled with gritted teeth, but strangely held upon his deep vocals as a threat. It was nothing more, than a cry for him to continue speaking. It was now easy to sense his vibrating palms on your cold skin and his muscles tensing, by every little movement.

“-I know what it feels like, to not want to be in pain anymore… But that evening, that horrible evening, you decided to lock us all out. With just that, you were gone. Every day, I thought about you! Every day, I fucking thought I had a chance of seeing you! Every day, I blamed myself!... Every day… I missed you…-” You were in shock, seeing his emotions expressed in every fibre of his body. Anger, regret, betrayal and sorrow, a cocktail of grief. It was all in the tears of his eyes, mirroring your own before it fell upon your cheek to become one with the rest of your tears. Everything in your head didn’t make sense, but it also made a light flash upon a path you could remember. “-Every god damn time… I think about you… I always regret not being there sooner… Why didn’t you let us help…? Why didn’t you let us be a part of your pain, to find happiness together…? Why did you suddenly decide… that your demons were better than us…?” Crying, louder and louder. With tears continuing to fall and forced to watch Yoongi fall apart. Blood shot eyes, looking down on you with misery that you expected to come. But you never knew, it would be so hard to watch it unfold.

“Yoongi…” You tried to call out with the shakiest voice, for him to come back. To see that you were here, right beneath him. Letting him know, you wouldn’t walk away like that, ever again.

“Why…? Did you really think I wouldn’t miss my favourite person in the world…? Was my tears every night ever since then, a waste…?” People think that he’s bad at showing his gratitude or emotions like sorrow to others, but that’s wrong. Yoongi was always open to be soothing himself on your shoulder, after break ups, home sickness and horrible thoughts about everything that was wrong about him. He was always there to be by your side and even though you have had your tough sides, as friendly enemies. It was always weird, to see the tears fall harder each time. Right now, you could barely look at him. But you had to, he was broken and you needed to realise that it has always been like that. Watching the expression of grief display right before you, it never became easier to confront it. Hyperventilating, is the only definition you could explain of his breathing. He was shaking, like a cold puppy in the rain. His face puffed from the crying and eyes flashing, unknown what was going on with him. His body becoming weaker, to release his powers in one shout of cry. Your hand getting free without a struggle, you reached out for him. His warm cheek, embraced by your cold palm of comfort to see his eyes shut slowly of your touch. His breathing becoming deeper and calm, letting your hand drag his body closer to your own. It was peaceful, quiet and your arms surrounding each other to keep amenity. The emotions you were unable to express, shown in the way his head were placed in the crook of your neck. Unspeakable word, that were inexistent to any language other than your body. The way his fingers dug into your shirt, afraid you will leave him like before. Letting his demons get the best of him, to have them on his back every day and unsure when it will ever stop. For once, in a long time, it felt peaceful. No more demons, just you.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered softly, letting the heated atmosphere disappear. Without a response, you were unsure if he heard you or not. But the way his finger clenched tighter, told you he heard everything he needed to hear. Your heart was beating fast and it continued to skip beats, but knowing he was right there, made everything easier. Fingers running through his soft blonde hair, receiving slow breaths of warmth hit your skin. It didn’t surprise you, that this was the way you would meet Yoongi again. You were always the worst for each other, but also the most loyal. You were each other’s horrible truth, when no one else was there to punch reality into your souls.

“…I missed you, Yoongi… There was never a day that passed, without you and the others on my mind…” You continued to speak, not receiving a response than his body snuggling closer. Legs intertwined and your hearts beating slower, feeling every vibration and time flying by like a bird.

“...I’ll never leave you guys again… I promise…” You finished, not expecting an answer as he never gave one so far. Your body feeling heavy and throbbing of ache, as if you have never slept for days. Getting ready to close your eyes, indulging into the weak part of your presence you felt a stroke against your hand. Recognisable fingers sliding through your own, to hold them tightly to get warm.

“Good.” Simple, easy and fast. A quick deep response, that led you shed your last tears. Even though it wasn’t a huge sentence, you know that one word, could have many meanings behind it. For now, it put a huge boulder off your shoulders. Knowing he was sound asleep in the crook of your neck, that he claimed to be his safe spot back in the days. Fingers intertwined without the slightest fear of letting go again and contentment, that you once longed for. Being so close to him, was nostalgic as his heart beat against you. That was one, now only six more to go. It’s been a long time since you have fallen asleep so quickly and for him too, like a sweet dream. Even the incoming mountain of messages on his phone, couldn’t wake any of you...

[joonskisses]

hyungline jamming out to cypher

[qlmondmilk]

reflex

pjm x reader. last day of summer, falling for a boy with telekinetic abilities + science crack.

part 1 of ? words: 1619

note: the first part as written a year before, so this was untouched for long, sitting in my drafts and gathering cobwebs. the build-up is so long but i'm sorta writing it with the most detail so it would smoothly run in your imagination?? like a tv show hehe 

shitty title preview bc i know nothing about graphics

Jimin was pissed, to say the least.

The start of regular activity in San Fransokyo Institute of Technology was a sleep away, but no one in his university cared for a few more popsicles to consume and savor. Far too eager to start on their respective projects, almost everyone busied themselves with the sense of responsibility and the desire to create. This included Jimin's reasonable number of friends, leaving him to be the only one aching for the one day left for rest. Given that he'll celebrate the sunset alone, he declared that today would be somewhat peaceful.

Not.

Of all mornings to mess around with, Yoongi decided that Jimin would be a perfect lab rat for his seasonal crack project. Without any warning or whatsoever, Yoongi managed to wake up in the ungodly hours to set up a station and special headphones, testing if specific wavelengths and frequencies would easily influence an orgasm. On Jimin.

Jimin was happy to be greeted by a Daniel Caesar song, but not too keen on flushing red for having to cover and change his embarrassingly soaked sweats. He would've chased after Yoongi, who ran out of his room with a triumphant gummy smile after recording all of Jimin's stunned antics; but Yoongi wasn't to be fully blamed, for it was partially his doing as well, having entrusted his hyung the keys to his room. That, and for being a heavy sleeper.

If only all geniuses would dedicate their time to making good use of their aptitude, Min Yoongi wouldn’t have used ‘for the greater good of science’ as an excuse to obtain blackmail-worthy material, and Park Jimin wouldn't be hacking into Min Yoongi's database so damn early only to be hit with arbitrary urges. A generous sip of good booze could salvage his morning.

The only solution to silence the impulse was to give in, naturally — so it's 6 o' clock am and he's got his least favorite sweater on, set out for a bottle of vodka. Coming out in that dire time of the day means seeing little to no one at all, which is a relief, he wouldn’t have to encounter a crazed schoolmate eyeing him up as a potential lab rat.

This morning in San Fransokyo is quiet, save for the constant humming of the technology scattered all around. Matching the infrequent serenity, the city seems to bathe in the sun’s soft illumination, on the rare hope that when people step out, they’d appreciate its kind appearance reserved only for the last day of summer. Still, even without the harsh lighting, Jimin’s eyes remain weary, comfortable wearing them as crescents for a while.

He doesn’t notice that Yoongi’s not the only one who didn’t pay attention to the sun, and definitely not the only one who woke up extra early to work. The streets near his university were made of the asphalt with infused programming and coding tools, a special project of the seniors a few years back. Anyone was free to reach down, do their magic, and have their work plastered on the ground for 24 hours. Every midnight it reverts back to an empty canvas, so the serious programmers wouldn’t dare leave their code vulnerable to the public and have all versions of it gone by the next day.

The cobbled code path Jimin’s walking on turns out to be coded on already, resounding with his quick footsteps, imploring for him to look down and take note that he’s stepping on someone’s unfinished code art, and shit, his steps were precise accidents, but it looks like sabotage. But he doesn’t look down, and what used to be half a butterfly is now a muddled creature with its forewing absolutely wrecked, compound eye gone, antenna sticking out way too long - only the proboscis is intact.

Blessed are his feet, truly.

Damn Jeon Jungkook. Jimin is ill-equipped to be buying alcohol. 

Not that Jimin looked like a kid and he'd need verification to drown himself in liquor, no. The Christmas sweater that Jungkook gave wasn't enough to shelter Jimin from the coldness of the store and the icy stares from middle-aged ladies that were there for marked-down items. They didn't wake up early to see an abominable sweater being worn by a resting-bitch faced kid that looked like he'd lived through a thousand lifetimes.

Giving an ugly sweater is one thing, but to give a sweater with a gingerbread man flexing his icing abs is on an entirely different league.

Even the store is on a different league. It's close-set, aiming to provide as much as it could with the little area it has. What its span lack, the height of its shelves surely make up for it, reaching up to 7 rows. Not tall enough to be touching the ceiling, but it definitely towers over Jimin. So he sucks it up, cold, height difference, and all.  

Height is an issue, yet the store's strategy in product location is ludicrous. Who in the right mind would allow such a thing? Jimin thought San Fransokyo was a progressive city, however, precious liquor settled in the same aisle as laundry detergent says otherwise. Most importantly, Jimin's favorite brand of liquor sits at the sixth row, just a little bit beyond his reach when he jumps. The only staff present are the saleslady that could challenge Jimin's resting bitch face, the two cashiers from his university looking dead before the semester even started, and that one janitor being reprimanded by one of the early-comer middle-aged ladies for placing a wet-floor sign near the 35% off fish fillet.  

This aisle is more than a minefield.

There are two ways to complete his task. One is to arduously climb the shelf, grab a bottle or two, climb down, then go in peace. Two is to grab it in his mind and the bottle will come floating down to him, no climbing involved. Telekinesis worked like that, right? But his presumably telekinetic abilities (powers, whatever) came to him out of nowhere, and it could betray him for no reason. The shelf isn't made for occasional customer climbing. Both options are dangerous, and there are other variables to consider. The janitor reprimanding lady could happen to pass by the aisle to get to the rack of 50% off wet wipes and see Jimin - may the convenience store gods forbid it.   

He tries to will the bottle to descend from the shelf. He imagines a path and directs it to his open hand, but to no avail, from any onlooker he appears to be forcing to shit himself. 

He tries again. The entire shelf of laundry detergent and the whole sixth row of bottles float for a while and he panics. The detergents somehow spill themselves and join in the 'make Jimin panic more' party. All but the bottle that he wanted stops floating and blesses the store's floor by simultaneously breaking, along with Jimin's heart at the thought that he had to explain the mess. What would he even say? 'Sorry, I didn't want to disturb your staff to get the item I wanted so I took it upon myself to miraculously break all the bottles on the sixth shelf? Don't worry, I may have student loans to pay but I'm sure I'll compensate for this mess eventually!'  

Even worse, he would have to choose whether to take the second semester and survive with cup noodles or work full-time as Yoongi's lab rat. He still has a shred of dignity to keep, no thanks, Yoongi.

He already broke things anyway, so it's all or nothing. Better come home with a bottle than none at all. Jimin resorts to first original option, because climbing is obviously way more safer than 'grabbing the bottle with his mind.'

So he climbs. Bingo. Should've done that the first time.

It's not a big store, so the small amount of staff and patrons they had heard the crash and are silently watching Jimin elegantly climb down the shelf, avoid bits of glass on the floor, and tiptoe on the sea of unicorn vomit. On one end of the aisle, the saleslady seemed heartbroken for the janitor, who didn't spare a second look at whatever calamity swept through. He had already turned on his heels, heading for his mop and bucket. The fish fillet lady looked absolutely furious. Not good.

Jimin is stuck a very delicate place.

He continues to tiptoe on the unholy offspring of fabric conditioner and booze until—

"Oh hey dude, what ha—?" One of the cashiers suddenly appears sat the other end of the aisle with a concerned look on his face, which iss oddly familiar to Jimin. Could he be one of Taehyung's past flings? Or that dude that Hoseok drunkenly kissed one time. Probably both. 

Regardless of the cashier's identity, Jimin runs away.

Of course he fucking slips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck." His palms and knees took most of the impact and earned scratches. Still all or nothing, he continues to run even though his limbs disagree with the spontaneous plan to exert energy, wobbling with the guilt and panic of evading responsibility.

"Sorry man, not my fault!" Jimin shouts. Immediately spotting a rack full of Hello Kitty bandages, he grabs a handful and speeds across the store as fast as his unwilling limbs could take it.   

A Jollibee statue is waiting for him at the exit, so with Jimin's last functioning brain cell he throws two 20 dollar bills somewhere and makes it out of the store, turning Jollibee into a casualty by knocking him down at the exact moment Jimin's legs give up.

"—ppened here?" the cashier says to Jollibee's decapitated body.

[jeonjiah]

BTS ROAD TRIP AU COLLAB! (Coming Soon)

↳ A little collab with six other wonderful writers: 

@demonkook→ Namjoon 

@jinxkook → Seokjin

@taenity → Yoongi

@hoeseok→ Hoseok

@1namkook → Taehyung

@jeonjiah → Jimin

@itskimtaehyung → Jungkook

[blameblamebts]

He went from “hello sir, nice to meet you” To “your daughter calls me Daddy too”

(original scans © 침태 )

[vmonsbaby]

Hi! Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to, but could you maybe recommend some BTS blogs to follow? This is a new blog and I'm not really sure who to follow. Thank you!! ; v ;

MY TIME HAS COME

Dont you even WORRY I GOT YOU

ok so I’m gonna just recommend some people off the top of my head so this isn’t in a particular order <33 and they are all amazing people that I love with my whole heart (plus a few update blogs that will help you keep up with what’s going on lol)

@do-i-still-love-taehyung @yoonggi @incorrect-bangtan-boys @oopsfab @myeorkandkookies @mygjhs (Im sorry megan but i lov u) @serenjimpity / @expensivemochi (<-- same person <3 i lob u utsha) @iweedu (<-- FOLLOW THIS ONE FOR SURE) @bambamisaboomyinmypants @amberinacade   @honeyboynetwork @hobiwithhearts @shitbtssays @shitbtsprobablysays @taesbeach @incorrect-bts-quotes @bottle-of-kpop @kstarmx (they sell shit) @joonielovedaily @joonie-baby @lqhseok (they are also iweedu and this is her hobi blog or smth) @onesidedimpel @ask-bts-stuff @askjeon (<-- THOSE LAST TWO FOR SURE THEY MAKE AMAZING ART) @txuun @dying-in-ma-city @bts-art (they reblog all sorts of bts art) @bts-trans (translation/update blog!) @ourhopeourangel @googlebts (not full bts blog but they cool af) @taehyungpicss @btsbulges (insert eye emoji) @peachyfab @taepott @taelopsia (<-- amazing writers these last two!) @taehyungwithhearts @askcutae @keeping-up-with-bts @kimdaily (<-- <33) @jungcock @thesmallestplanet (nsfw stuff huhuhu) @seokjinthealpaca  @ask-bangtankids (<--great art) @ktaebwi @rising-artmys (good for finding underrated bts artists) @colorcalamity @bang-tan @bangtan-wallpaper @sunnyoongi @bts-imagine-factory @btsdaily @bangtan (<-- ESSENTIAL) @randomsplashes @velvethoseok @finny-red @ask-camboy-joonie (nsfw) @bts-colorpalettes @slutdropjin

If I didn’t write anything under someone’s name they are just as cool I just got lazy lmao

but yeah these are all amazing creators and amazing blogs in general <3

[notyoongiswife]

— networks

✧ yoonkooknetwork 

✧ namseok-net

✧ yoongi-net

✧ hyunglinenetwork

✧ honeyboynetwork

✧ btscreatorsnet

✧ bangtanbudsnet

[agushadow]

you precious honey boy, you

[hoyoungy]

✦ N E T W O R K S ✦

here are the networks i am a member of!

bangtan bookclub

svt-writers

95linenet

raplinenetwork

btswritersguild

yoongi-net

hyunglinenetwork

vocalkingsnet

SVT hiphop unit

btscreatorsnet

sfwseventeen

honeyboynetwork

bangtanthirstyeondan

peaches.net

bts sunshine net

the got7 network

[qlmondmilk]

2q18

Kim Taehyung. Unexplained workings of parallel universes, guilt and confusion all over.

Words: 1624.

a.k.a. a hella rough draft from last year that i wanted to finish

If only the prospects are simple. Yet here you are, clutching your chest – or in better terms, clutching at nothing. There’s no heaviness where a pulse should be, not even dead weight. The walls appear boundless, the lack of pigment staring at how absurd you look; close to a ghost, sprawled on the equally colorless single bed, crying for a reason you’re unsure of. This world is neither ending nor beginning. It’s always morning in the sole window situated in front of you, floating high, almost of your reach. Sometimes you hear the chirping of birds, the casual beat of their wings filling up the wind’s silence. Sometimes you hear crying, and others being in the same interval as you are is the closest guess to whose sad lips the sobs were coming from. Maybe they too woke up in cold sweat, with a thousand questions threatening to spill from their bloodied lips, but no one would answer.

It’s pitiful for fate to allow you to breathe, to leave you while everything sits still. Outside they are still breathing, going on with their lives not knowing the true severity of things. Where there are multitudes of possibilities, a large chance of fault compensates, bringing the balance that nobody asked for. Everyone has something to lose, but at least their memory had enough mercy to remember exactly what they are devoid of, while yours decided to hover dangerously to erasure. A foolish hope for absolution. Foolish. The word is no stranger to you. The reason why, you don’t know. If you frown hard enough and feign exasperation, your mind turns into a pity machine. You’ll remember studying plenty shades of blue and pink. As the colors had no shame of robbing each other of space in the sky, you had no qualms in resting your head on someone’s lap. That version of you didn’t bother looking back at the owner of the warmth you indulged in, choosing to focus on a familiar junction above. A certain smear of pink dragged across the purple breadth, reaching out to a small flickering yellow that peeked from the false edge of nowhere. Perhaps unforgivable thoughts ran through you that time, since he called out to you in a low voice, and when you turned your head to speak, to see more of him, the clarity of the memory ceases. Atonement, maybe, for the sins you can’t remember. You’re a fool for remembering, even more so for hurting, though you know so little.   Everything is in patches that don’t add up, a sparse cluster of realities and thoughts mingling as one unintelligible truth. There are brief moments where you claim to be okay with befriending loneliness. That maybe the reason you got here isn’t worth the fight, because what is there to oppose? Stupid, accepting the perpetual fresh change of sheets materializing from air and the never-ending expanse of white would be the equivalent of admitting defeat. You are having none of that. So you pray to whoever took charge of this timeless cavity within the innumerable worlds. Begging to be spared the pain of spending valueless time suspended in the void, you stand from the bed. You’re tired of clutching your heart, tired of waiting for the good unknown to come. Your legs wobble at first, but you grab the bed’s metal railing to regain proper footing. You aimlessly walk towards the window, yet every step seems to force the morning light father away. The ground is a limitless cold that makes you stumble. A dying light reflected in a pair of brown eyes flashed ever so quickly that you almost don’t believe it. You close your eyes in an attempt to chase after the rogue bit of memory, but it dissipates before you can even recall the shade of brown it had.  During your stay, the room has been feeding you glimpses, and you thought them as unreliable; you were thankful nonetheless. Aware of your disbelief, multiple visions are shoved into your head. The tree-lined avenue gives way for the swaying gaps of sunlight, as far as the eye could allow it. Concrete beneath your feet looks scraped and bruised, with all the markings of the weight that gravity allowed to come undone. The air is no different from the occasional gusts you were graced with by the room’s small window, it still meets you with indefinite force – brushing your cheek, claiming that the cold is their working, ensuring that you keep your hands in your pockets, and causing leaves to flutter by and miss you. You carry on with a sedate pace, never the one to hurry. A crack in the pavement has you stopping in your tracks. This was new, unnoticed. There appears to be a fault line at the curb where a street links to an avenue. It’s a deep fissure in the path; a strong force must’ve fractured it, for a chunk of the curb is elevated a bit. A red light reminds the pedestrians to wait, and the cars come and go. Happy for a distraction, you look down and observe the crack for a while, until a sound indicates clearance. You don’t remember pressing the button to cross. A strong gust causes your hair to wildly whip at your face. Though, not wishing to waste something you did not warrant for, you still cross alone from your side, being the only one heading in the opposite direction. With a vision in dancing cracks, you don’t see the speeding car’s approach, and like the seasonal leaves, it nearly touches – no, collides with you. Sunlight then melts into black, until you’re greeted by the sound of an engine starting. A hand gingerly takes yours, and frustratingly, again, you don’t turn your head to see who you’ve been spending both light and dark with. You have the luxury of steering fate, of letting go. Your focus is on the city unfolding in front of you, rather than the boy squeezing your hand every so often, glad to have you. Heaven’s gates are still open. A drop of water is still within your reach, but you continue holding his hand anyway. The world lets it be. No one told the truth couldn’t be sudden, so red passes by and taints your sight. Something close to fear propelled you into action, and somehow, your fingers manage to touch the damned window. A particular memory surges back. You’re sitting on someone’s bed, in a home worth living in. The sheets are soft and warm, a complete opposite to your single time and dimension defying bed as occupation. You can feel yourself smiling. Instead of your muscles straining with great effort, smiling didn't seem too difficult. Sounds were garbled, as if you were at the bottom of a pool, all coherence drowned out. Among the other pieces of the memory, one little detail could be so easily overlooked, yet you still catch it. An insignificant poster among many others on the wall. And yet, you, you poor ragdoll in the hands of fate, can't avoid the needles poked straight to your sanity, can't avoid fate's transference. You look beyond his blur of a silhouette just to have reality smite you. Perhaps fate is indeed cruel. That wide-eyed creature with a poised grin on their face – that isn’t you. She has the same features, but they are in different regard. With their chin up, a calculated posture showing a readiness to face adversity head on, a testament to that the list of dates that were brought upon by years of enduring setbacks. Years of practicing to know what to do, or at least to keep the impression that they did. What the hell, you can’t sing. The you that wasn’t you had the upper hand, for they were living their dream.  The version of you playing in this memory knew. But they let it be, letting his head rest on their lap. Ultimately securing a place they were never meant to have. Or perhaps fate wants you to think that this pause in time is a prison, but a haven all the same. Maybe you approached fate yourself and begged for a clean slate. But then why torture you with a glitchy mind? Nothing ever makes sense, you’ve established that long ago, when the silence - or in relative truth, the lack of sounds that didn’t come from the raging thing beating in your chest - nearly drove you insane. The birds, you hoped, were only asleep and would wake again whenever they felt like it.

It would be so convenient if only your conscience were asleep, and you had control over its whining. But as a human, a constant voice of conscience was not questionable; it makes sense.

It would be better if you were asleep, and fate couldn’t have their way.

* “Forgive me, for I have sinned.“ There were furrows in his brow, but he still laughed. Your ability to shift moods was ridiculous. Moments ago, you held onto him tightly, resolved to preserve the warmth. You held a distant look in your eyes, the light muted for now. He noticed it, though your hands were everywhere – hair ruffles, gentle strokes passing from his ear to his arms, poor attempts to alleviate the creases in his shirt, then a hasty wandering only returning to purpose every now and then to fix his collars. Ever the observant, he knew the appropriate time to be solemn. “What’s your sin, then, sweetheart?” he asked after a while, and you looked down, finally seeing him well and clear for the first time.   “Soul robbery.” * The world itself is a bad dream, don’t you think?

[hobiboo1]

Announcement:

Hello. So, as most of you know, I have changed my url from @btsstoriesand-astrology to @lilyjhs. Due to the change in my url, I know that I need to edit my links. Many of you have left me asks about not being able to access my stories etc. and I am very aware and sincerely sorry for this. It is something I have been trying and trying to fix, however, I have been having an incredibly infuriating experience with my Tumblr. My masterlist is currently rendered useless to me as every time I try and access my links, I am lead to a very persistent pop up. It feels like I’ve been trying to fix this for hours, and I have tried everything possible in my power, but to no use. So I have contacted Tumblr and will be waiting for their help. Until there is a solution there is nothing I can say except that I am sorry. As always, I am super grateful for the support and that so many of you are interested in reading my stories, and I am really, really apologetic that you can’t do that right now. I will keep you up to date and I hope this problem can be resolved sooner or later. 

I will be tagging my nets so that they can be made aware of my problem and your problem, as readers, with my masterlist and stories. 

@jhs-network, @bangtanwriters-net, @95linenet, @bangtanbudsnet, @kwriterskollection, @hyunglinenetwork, @honeyboynetwork, @busanboys-net.

Thank you and I am sorry. 

[hoeseok]

Hohohello ♪ This is your secret santa from HoneyBoyNetwork ♫ I hope you're having a nice day and you'll be able to not feel any stress during your weekend. (I'm sorry I don't know where to start.) Oh! And did you saw BTS during RedCarpet ? MAMAs (though by the time I write this, it hadn't started yet) ? What you thought about their entrance ?

oh why hello secret santa 👀  thank you! i’m so glad it’s the weekend tbh and i hope you’re doing great on this fine morning/afternoon/evening <3 i actually didn’t see bts live on the red carpet, but i did watch a video of them arriving and they legit looked like Kings. i was blown away by how good they looked. i tried watching all of mama and i saw them win best mv but then i fell asleep aalsjdalk i felt so proud of our boys :’) then this morning i watched the vids of their performances and WOW THEY KILLED IT. I FR HAD BREATHING PROBLEMS WHEN I SAW THE CYPHER X MIC DROP PERFORMANCE. what did you think about it?

[namgisgrl]

nets ::

→ hyunglinenetwork

→ honeyboynetwork

→ yoongi-net

→yoongguknet

→btscreatorsnet

[agushadow]

yoongi’s birthday countdown ➤ d-9: SUGA stands for “shooting guard”

[satisfractions]

networks //

// @yoongi-net //

// @95linenet //

// @boygroupwritersnet //

// @jhope-network //

// @taejinnetwork //

// @kimtaehyung-net //

// @honeyboynetwork //

// @gguknet //

// @got7snet //

// @got7hyungnet //

// @knutwork //

// @bangtanbudsnet //

// @hyunglinenetwork //

// @kreativewritersnet //