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#actually idk what “so much” constitutes so i’m just gonna say i’m writing stuff

porta-decumana · 3 years

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Zadnor & Bozja’s Ending

I know it’s been the bandwagon to hate on Werlyt and I’ve been critical of that plotline in the past as well. But Bozja may have just taken the cake for unsatisfactory storytelling, in my opinion, while also skirting into the same realm of “we’re gonna give imperialism a pass because maybe the Empire isn’t that bad uwu”. Obvious spoilers for rank 25 quests, the Dalriada raid, and Bozja’s story ending under the cut along with screenshots.

This is a pretty critical look at Zadnor specifically so if you don’t wanna read that then feel free to bypass this post.

Bajsaljen’s Constitution was probably the first part that really made me scratch my head and question the entire plot. I was convinced at first I was too sleepy to process what Bajsaljen was saying but then I went back and... yeah, he really did say that.

To which, Marsak calls him out on, a fact that I appreciate because my response was pretty much the same level of “wtf” as him and the nameless/dialogue-less NPCs in the room.

If you haven’t played Bozja in its entirety yet, you may not understand why I felt like this dialogue was incredibly appalling. The instances are filled with horrific encounters, some of which are:

Dabog, a former Resistance soldier who was experimented on in order to become an expert warmachina pilot and later shows back up in Zadnor as a model swap for the final boss of Gyr Abania. In other words, mutated beyond recognition.

Lorvo, another former member of the Resistance, who was tempered by the Queen. You fight alongside his student, who is trying to save him.

Shemhazai, a death spirit summoned with auracite and the sacrifices of Garlean soldiers.

Delubrum Reginae’s 2nd boss (I believe?) are a group of former Blades who have been tempered and their bodies have mutated. These are former comrades you, as the WoL, personally fought alongside in the early parts of the Southern Front. Named characters with backstories.

Fabineau quo Soranus - a brutal commander that is known to torment his subordinates and use men and animals both as test subjects.

And this is just a fraction of what I can think of off the top of my head. So understand that when I saw Bajsaljen say the above parts, I was questioning what parts of the Empire he was talking about. And I know he tries to use Misija as his reason for this but it still just doesn’t quite sit right with the literal everything else that happened fighting for Bozja. Because you can make the argument that Misija saw the Imperial way of life better but also you can make the argument that she was enacting a revenge plan that transcended multiple generations. Misija’s issue with Bozjan society was the mistreatment of her and her family as well as the murder of her ancestor-- classism. And while her hatred of Bozja and its high society (the Blades) might be understandable, I think it does little to excuse the rampant death and cruelty the IVth legion goes on to do.

I think what Bajsaljen is trying to say is that he does not want to create another society that would create more Misijas. But in doing so, it feels like he’s giving the IVth legion a pass after all the atrocities they’ve done (even calling the occupation “peace” and that... hnghhh is it peace when people are being used as experiments, Bajsaljen? And they’re being oppressed?) and it just feels really, really tone-deaf. Especially given that Bajsaljen’s top soldiers were all, for the most part, tempered and then put to death. That just adds an extra ouch factor.

I don’t wanna spend too long talking about this bit so I’m gonna move onto the next offender, which is Gabranth, or more specifically, what happens to Gabranth (or... how it happens, rather). Honestly, I was uncomfortable with the Bajsaljen stuff but the Gabranth field notes absolutely floored me. It feels as though there was either scrapped content here or... the team decided they could not continue the plotline with Gabranth any longer and decided to write him out in a note that only a handful of the playerbase will probably read because otherwise, there’s no indicator that Gabranth’s tale is over. Here are the bits of the field note in question:

And you might go, “Wow, that’s a wild way to end the Bozja tale” to which I would agree and remind you that none of this is shown in-game, it’s all just in a field note that could be easily skipped over. Yes. That’s right. Dalmasca’s freedom, Gabranth’s fate, Lyon going full mutiny... it’s all in a field note. The ending Bozja cutscenes actually have dialogue like this:

In another scene, with Lyon and Gabranth in Valnain, Dalmasca.

Note: this is an allusion to Noah having the same terminal illness as his father.

The scene ends with Lyon looking surprised at the weapons and Sicinius and Gabranth go to discuss the findings. The scene then cuts to this photo and the questline ends.

So to put it mildly... I’m mad. Why are we supposed to find out the fate of Dalmasca-- something that’s been in and out of the story since Stormblood-- through a field note? Why is Lyon’s betrayal also found out this way? And Gabranth’s alleged demise? I’m incredibly iffy on the choice to do this in the plot but I would be considerably less mad if any of this was indicated in the cutscenes. I happen to really like Gabranth’s XII’s iteration and the fact that we got a field note on him made me excited. I only found out about Dalmasca being freed, Lyon’s treachery, Gabranth’s death because of that. And that was incredibly jarring to read given the cutscenes I had just watched. There’s no indication that any of that would happen and I can’t help but feel as though that is a bit of lore that is often going to be overlooked by players who simply don’t think to check the field notes for important lore bombs.

I want to reiterate: I'm not specifically mad at the story decision to kill Gabranth (even if it’s a fake death), I’m mad at how this was all revealed to the players. Particularly the bit about Dalmasca. It discards the age-old rule of storytelling-- “show, don’t tell”. I could forgive them for having to cut certain bits of Bozja’s story because of the pandemic severely hampering development but... there had to have been a better way than this. Maybe redo some of the cutscene dialogue? Maybe add in a little bit more to the final scene? I was excited to face off against Gabranth. I was excited to go help liberate Dalmasca, especially after the Return to Ivalice plot really set us up for that in the future. This... just feels incredibly unfulfilling. And I hope that this is not how they decide to end things with this section of the story. The build from Return to Ivalice and the continuation of those plot threads in Bozja were great! Having it unceremoniously ended in a field note? Not so great.

Two honorable mention things that I don’t have the energy to talk about at large

Mikoto’s visions don’t feel significant enough to the story. This is particularly egregious in Zadnor’s arc, where she has a vision where she falls off an airship and then tells the WoL to not say anything because she “doesn’t want people to worry” instead of, idk, trying to find a way to save herself. She only sees herself fall, she doesn’t see herself land. But she insists there’s “nothing we can do about it anyways”. It... felt like they didn’t really matter in the end? Fran ends up deus ex machina-ing a rescue anyways so like... what was the point?

Misija's “redemption through death”, a tired trope that is even more tired in FFXIV. I know there’s two different endings to this quest but Misija being executed after being mortally wounded by the Diablos Armament is the ending I received.

Going to harken back to the criticisms of Werlyt. I’ll maintain my stance that I still think Werlyt had some glaring issues with it... but I will give it this. It didn’t kill off characters from a side plot that had been going on since Stormblood in a field note. And it didn’t involve the Werlytians being like “Hey let’s base our new constitution off of the VIIth legion... that is a great idea.”

Anyways, I still recommend doing Bozja if only because the Dalriada is a good instance with a very good final boss theme. I did enjoy aspects of the questline but the ending really soured my opinion of it.

#zadnor #a critical review #bozja spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #5.55 spoilers #long post #zadnor spoilers

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 5 years

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Half Of You: Jimin One Shot

Request: fluff: Friend group travelling (wherever inspires you most! I'm thinking someplace like Hawai where they visit secret beaches and stuff! Site-seeing in the city could also be interesting!). Jimin and and OC know eachother through friends. OC is independent and not TOO into the whole adventuring deal but does it to enjoy some quality time with her friends. Jimin is flirty and playful and makes the trip all the more interesting for her. (I don't know how you want to set it up but maybe two friends are dating and they invite their two seperate friend groups on this trip to meet. Or maybe it's a wedding and OC is a bridesmaid? Anything works honestly!) - @silviasgotyourback

Description: You’re not too keen on...you know...risk-taking. In fact, it scares you to your core. But when your close friend Kim Namjoon gets in your head, you agree to a crazy trip to Fiji with him and his pals. But what happens when one of those pals -- specifically Park Jimin -- sweeps you off your feet not only figuratively, but literally?

Word Count: 15.8k

Pairing: Jimin x (gender neutral) Reader

Tags: Office Worker!Reader, Choreographer!Jungkook, Producer!Namjoon, Non-Idol!Au, Kinda Enemies to Lovers?? Haha idk

Genre: Fluff and angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Wow what a long break I’ve taken haha! But I’m back (kinda) to post some one shots (slowly)! I’ve been working really hard on my graduate school writing sample and auto statements, and I’ve just started my senior year of college AND started a new job so I’ve been incredibly busy! I apologize nonetheless for my absence. It’s felt horrible being away. Very guilty lol. Anyway, thank you my dear for requesting and for being so so so SO patient with me. I hope you like the result!

Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/nirvana_namu. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances.

- Mercury

You’re not sure why you agreed to this.

Standing at the tippy top of a mountain, looking out over the entire surf as it roils in the golden island sun, you watch your best friend get strapped into a harness with a laugh that echoes through the humid air. His gaze is focused downward, along the slope of treetops leading to the water. A zipline. A really steep, really fast one. One of the longest in the world! Namjoon had proclaimed with no small measure of wonder in his round eyes before you’d boarded the plane side by side only a day prior. If you weren’t so scared, you’d want to paint it.

You really don’t know why you agreed to do any of this.

The vested employee adjusts the straps secured around Namjoon’s hips, tugs them once or twice — not nearly enough by your standards — and mumbles something unintelligible into the receiver of a walkie-talkie. Enveloped in greenery, Namjoon pauses to turn and look at you and, upon snagging your eyes, offers a big, stupid, dimpled grin. He waves one hand over his head at you as you wait to be loaded into the next harness. And it looks like his eyes are squinted against the sun, but really they’re squinted from the sheer force of his joy. A joy too big to be contained in a smile alone.

That’s exactly why, you think to yourself with a grimace as you shamble forward along the worn footpath, second-to-last in line, arms crossed over your torso as if they can protect you from whatever fresh hell Namjoon’s planned out.

The employee pats Namjoon’s bare shoulder before releasing him and sending him speeding down the swaying cable with a scream so loud it pierces your ears. His body falls out of sight for a frozen millisecond before the cable gives a mighty bounce and his head reappears, bobbing up and down as he slides toward the bottom. You wince, more out of fear than discomfort, and pause to peek over the edge of the loading platform, following the line of the cable all the way to the bottom. Your heart races as your eyes trace the dense tree line, seemingly endless, and the sheer drop that had claimed Namjoon just seconds before.

And that’s when, as you sweep your twitching gaze out behind you, you lock eyes with Park Jimin. Standing behind you, the very last of the group to depart down the cliffside, his lips are quirked into a smirk that reads cocky and his brows are raised, unyielding eyes stuck on you like tree sap. Of all people to be stuck with on the top of a mountain…

Your face goes hot and your spine stiffens by a few degrees. You stare back at him, trying to discern any measure of fear in his smiling expression, his half-exposed teeth, his rosy cheeks, his teasing brown eyes. But instead all you see is, as usual, a perfect facade of composure.

Well, that and a sinfully handsome face.

He saunters up beside you, scans you from head to toe, and hums a little. “Nervous?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know.

You clear your throat, fan yourself with your hand as a futile defense against the jungle heat, and nod your head once. “Mm.”

Upon hearing your response, Jimin’s demeanor shifts a little. He uncrosses his arms and his smirk slips, brows raising. He leans closer to examine your face and you avert your gaze, heart hammering. “Whoa, you’re actually spooked, huh,” he remarks before glancing around the platform. “Shit, I don’t think the guide’s gonna let you turn back now.”

You’d expected him to make fun of you, perhaps laugh at your weak constitution. But this…

This is new.

Though well-meaning, Jimin’s words serve only to set your palms sweating and your heart racing faster. Your throat feels a little funny, tight like asthma. You shift your weight from foot to foot. “I-It’s fine,” you mumble, sliding past him as the employee beckons you forward with a lazy wave. “I’ll just…do it.”

Jimin hangs close behind you as the employee begins strapping you in, not sparing even a single word for you. “Hey, uh, my friend’s a little nervous,” Jimin says lowly to the young man working on hooking the harness around your hip. He glances up to meet your eyes before looking toward Jimin. “Any way you can, like, go gentle or something?” Jimin offers a convincing smile, the kind of grin that could get anyone to do anything.

The employee surprises you by releasing a puffy laugh and straightening to his full height, pausing to pat the dust off the backs of his legs. He chuckles and pats your back. “I can’t control the cable,” he says, then pauses for a moment to think. “But…,” he continues as Jimin turns pleading eyes his way, “if you’re feeling really nervous, I’ve heard it helps to shut your eyes and count to ten. Like, tell yourself you’re definitely gonna do it once you reach ten and just…go.”

You swallow hard and inhale sharply through your nose. “Alright,” you say, but his words have fled from your brain as soon as they’d been uttered. Your voice is shaky. Almost as shaky as your hands as you raise them to grip the straps of your harness.

Have you always had such a strong grip?

Your brain goes a little fuzzy, looking out over the precipice on which you stand, unsteady feet and rushing pulse. It’s dizzying. Like the world is spinning, but you’re not spinning with it. Or perhaps you’re spinning and it’s the world that’s gone still. Either way, the stretch of trees extending far beyond the tips of your hiking boots looks like it’s swaying on an axis, and each blink tilts the view some different way. You wonder if you’re breathing enough, or maybe too much, because your head is spinning. Like when you stand up too quickly after sitting for a while. You wonder if you’ll pass out before you reach the bottom.

If you reach the bottom.

Jesus, you hadn’t even considered the possibility of this stupid cable snapping. It doesn’t look too stable, upon closer inspection. Bouncing in the breeze. And as the employee finishes strapping you in, you pause for a moment to move your legs about and find, to your horror, that the straps are slightly loose.

Oh God.

You’re gonna throw up.

“Hey,” says a soft voice from beside you.

You feel a warm hand slide along the skin of your upper back, resting to cup your shoulder. Slowly, you turn your toward Jimin, standing with one arm wrapped around you and the other braced on his own knee so he can level his eyes with yours. He’s smiling a little. A different one this time, a soft one. The wind blows his dark hair from his eyes and carries the scent of his cologne. Somehow, you feel yourself relax a little against his side.

“It’s gonna be okay, alright?” he asks gently, and this is an entirely new Park Jimin to you. A tender young man with kind eyes. He smiles again and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “I’m right behind you.”

And for some reason, that comforts you. You don’t have time to dissect it however, as the employee takes up your other side and raises his brows, asking silently if you’re ready to go. Of course, you aren’t. How can you be? But again, Jimin squeezes your shoulder and seizes your attention with another smile, this one turning his eyes to crescents as he nods his head.

“Um…yeah,” you say, taking a moment to focus on your breath.

“Remember,” says Jimin as he steps away from you. “Count to ten, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, shutting your eyes.

One.

You’re gonna do it.

Two.

On ten, you’re just gonna go.

Three.

It’ll be fine.

Four.

Joon did it, and he’s fine.

Five.

And Tae before him, and that guy Jimin brought.

Six.

Nobody’s died yet.

Seven.

You can do it too.

Eight.

And even if I’m scared, at least you’re not alone up here.

Nine.

Jimin’s right behind you.

Ten.

Your scream rips through the valley below.

And, seconds later, so does your unfettered laughter.

You met Park Jimin on the worst day of your life a month ago. Freshly laid off from your job as a financial analyst — a job which Namjoon disliked from the start —, and disappointed by a string of bad dates after a catastrophic breakup, you’d agreed to meet up with a few college friends for a drink at your local stomping ground. You’d found Jimin sitting in the middle of a smoky bar with a girl on one arm and a guy on the other. Gross, was all you’d thought in passing. You’d paid him little mind, too busy wallowing in your own self pity to think too hard about any one thing, but it seemed he was incessant on grabbing your attention by any means necessary.

You’d sidled up to the bar, awaiting Namjoon’s I’m here text, and had only just ordered your drink when the strange young man with the unusually bright smile took up the space beside you. Now alone, he offered you a grin and his hand for you to shake. For a few seconds, you only stared at his outstretched palm. At the lines cutting across it. What was that long line called? The life line?

Eventually, however, you realized he wasn’t going anywhere, planted firmly in the wobbly barstool to your right, and you relented with a handshake. But that wasn’t what this stranger was after. He yanked you just a little once your hands connected.

“Hey, honey!” he said as he pulled you in toward his chest, sweeping you up in a tight, firm hug that knocked the wind from your lungs.

You were neither playful enough nor drunk enough to reciprocate and instead sat there stiffly, arms pressed against your sides as the stranger with the cute face hugged you close. Over his shoulder, you locked eyes with the girl who’d previously ornamented his left arm, watching you keenly, and it didn’t take you long to understand what was going on.

“Dodging an ex?” you whispered without moving your lips too much.

You felt a wave of shivers trace up your spine and it only took you a few seconds to realize why. It was just the sort of thing you imagined Hanseul doing if he ever bumped into you…

He chuckled. “Two, actually,” he responded as the young man he’d been entertaining also lifted his eyes from his drink to give you a once-over.

You sighed. “You’d better be buying my drink,” was all you said as the two of you broke away.

He’d laughed — that melodic sort of laugh that made you feel a little floaty — and rubbed your shoulder with a grin. “I’ll buy you twenty,” he joked, sliding the bartender a bill as he returned with your cocktail.

“So how’d you manage to get caught up with two exes at once?” you asked, nursing your glass.

He rubbed his jaw and shook his head, smiling at the bar table before him. “They were friends to begin with,” he said. And when you said nothing, only recoiled slightly, he met your eyes with a bright laugh. “C’mon don’t give me that look!”

You cleared your throat, turned away, and worked your straw between your teeth. “I dunno, sounds like maybe you brought it on yourself then,” you said, taking a healthy sip.

The stranger laughed again — more like a disbelieving scoff — and adjusted one of the several rings on his slender fingers. “Well I didn’t ask the two of them to come out tonight,” he said with a shrug. “And besides, neither of them looked unhappy to see me.”

“Ugh,” you mumbled, eyeing him sidelong as he chuckled.

He smirked and leaned across the bar toward you. “What?” he asked, and something about the heavy-lidded look he gave you, the simmering something in his eyes, made your pulse quicken. He rested his cheek in his hand and cocked his head to the side, now close enough to smell a whiff of his cologne. “You think I’m a bad guy?”

You swallowed hard before downing the rest of your drink and slamming the glass back on the bar. You waved the bartender over and pointed to the empty glass. Wordlessly, he began fixing you a replacement. You peeked back at the guy to find him smiling at you, musing perhaps, with the strangest mix of curiosity and pity in his expression.

You were definitely going to need another drink.

“Do good guys usually do stuff like that?” you asked, watching the bartender as he shook your drink around his metal tumbler.

He chuckled. “Can goodness be quantified by things like who we date?” he asked.

You stiffened. “Not by who you date,” you continued, shaking your head as memories of your own ex resurfaced. “But who you hurt, sure.”

He rolled his eyes, swiveling in his barstool to look at you head on. “Why’s it my fault who gets hurt?” he asked.

You cocked a brow. “You…can’t be serious…” But from the expression he wore you were certain that he was indeed quite serious.

He shrugged. “It’s not my intention to hurt someone, so why do I have to take responsibility if they get hurt?” he asked, then smirked and gave your thigh a nudge with his knee. “The way I see it, if you get hurt you’re the one whose expectations were too high.”

“That’s gross,” you said, inching away. You were inclined to simply leave, abandon this conversation and the bar at large and call it a night. But the bartender wasn’t finished with your drink and you weren’t about to piss him off. Not on a day like today. “If you’re dating someone, you’re committing to them.”

“What about polyamorous people?” he countered with a smug grin.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not talking about polyamorous people. I’m talking about monogamy.”

“But why does everyone expect monogamy?” asked Jimin, tossing his hands up in the air with a breathy laugh. “Anyway, I always make it clear from the start that I’m not the kind of person who wants to be…well, you know…,” he started, then furrowed his brow and waved his hand. “Like, in a relationship.”

You sighed, nodded your thanks to the bartender as he slid you your drink, and watched as Jimin again offered cash in return. “And that’s fine, but you can’t expect someone to stick around and be okay with that.” You rubbed your temples as memories swirled together. “Be okay with half of you.”

If you really loved me, you’d understand that I could have any person in the world and you’d still be my number one!

Scumbag.

This gave him pause and, slowly, he shifted his eyes your way once more, scanning you. “Half of me?”

You nodded and downed a gulp of your drink with a wince. “Giving half is fine if the other person is giving half too. If you both only expect half,” you began, then ran your hands along your neck. Your skin was feverish, alcohol making your head light. “But if one person wants more, it’s not fair to string them along.”

He stared at you gravely, eyes hard and jaw set, and furrowed his brow. “That’s too old-school,” he said.

You huffed and crossed your arms. “It’s not old-school!” you said, wagging a finger at him. “It’s about respecting the other person enough to let them go when you realize you can’t be what they need.”

He pouted a little and rolled his eyes. “You sound ancient,” he said, then paused to give you a knowing smirk. “Wait, don’t tell me,” he began, scooting closer with a conspiratorial look. “You were scorned by your ex. Like…I dunno, like they cheated or something. Broke your heart, ruined your trust, blah, blah, blah. And now you’ve got this vendetta or something because you got hurt.” He grinned and wiggled his brows.

You stiffened, eyes wide, and stared at him. “I…,” you began.

He laughed from his gut and nodded. “Ah, nailed it, didn’t I?” he asked.

There was a cruel edge to his teasing, an ill-intentioned bite that felt like it was made to injure. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, but you knew you felt it in that hazy bar, surrounded by throngs of people gathered here and there, enveloped in smoke and conversation. But like a heat-seeking missile, it seemed his words were engineered to uncover the softest parts of you and destroy them.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else, but your eyes welled with tears and your throat constricted. You stared at him, this stranger who had pegged you without err, and felt the weight of your frustrations pressing down on the tops of your shoulders like sandbags. And as he perceived the shift in your expression, his own face changed from a cold sort of scrutiny to a round-eyed concern that washed away all evidence of his previous behavior.

“Oh shit,” he said, standing up and blocking your face from view. You felt a few hot tears spilling over and were quick to wipe them, but the humiliation was there on display whether you cried or not.

He’d gotten you.

Luckily for you, Namjoon’s timing had been particularly impeccable that day and he’d barreled into the bar with a lopsided grin and clapped both you and the stranger on the backs, Taehyung and Yoongi sauntering behind him. You’d startled a bit, jumping slightly at his approach, but once again luckily — or perhaps unluckily — Namjoon seemed to have little regard for the poor mood he’d stepped into and didn’t seem to notice your glassy eyes as you buried your nose in your drink.

“Well jeez, look at you two already getting acquainted!” Namjoon exclaimed with a big laugh.

You paused your sipping for a moment to slide only your eyes up toward your friend. “Huh?”

He blinked down at you, one hand still clamped onto the stranger’s shoulder, and raised his brows. “Didn’t I tell you I was inviting some work friends?”

You spat your drink, sending droplets of sweet alcohol splattering across the bar. Quick to right yourself, you faced Namjoon properly and, sputtering, replied, “Him?”

Namjoon laughed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you guys didn’t introduce yourselves,” he said, adding theatrics to his heavy sigh. “This is Park Jimin. That choreographer I’ve been telling you about? He’s coming with us to Fiji.”

Still coughing up the remains of your rum and Coke, you pat your chest. This was the kind-hearted dance major wunderkind who dazzled everyone at Namjoon’s entertainment company? This was the kid who, at the age of twenty-four, had more accolades than both his predecessors combined? This was the guy who befriended all the trainees and brought them sports drinks during long days of practice?

This was the guy you were going to spend two weeks with on an island in the middle of the Pacific?

Namjoon, standing between the two of you, moved to taste your drink and as he leaned forward you locked eyes with the acclaimed young choreographer over the plane of his back. Park Jimin stared at you with wide eyes and lips parted as if to speak. But even after Namjoon had straightened up and begun complaining about your drink order, Park Jimin, still with mouth agape, said nothing.

And so, as you go ripping through the jungle on a wobbling cable, screaming and laughing and crying just a little, you wonder how exactly that very same Park Jimin is the one who comforted you into taking this leap of faith. Below your dangling feet is a patchwork of different greens, all bleeding into a motion blur as your body is propelled down toward the bottom platform. As you slide along, you can just see Namjoon’s figure, reduced to a small silhouette amongst the trees, as he stands waving like mad at the edge of the platform. Laughing, you shoot both hands above your head and wave them around, causing you to sway on the cable. Startled, you quickly return your hands to gripping the straps near your chest.

You feel like a bullet whizzing through humid air and then, all at once, friction takes hold once more and you seize, eyes squeezing shut from the whiplash, head throbbing just a little, suspended over the platform. You are greeted by a chorus of applause and hollers of encouragement as the employee begins the process of disconnecting you from your harness and, as your feet land stiffly on the concrete slab, you lift wild eyes to meet Namjoon’s. You find him still with that grin plastered across his face, hair windswept, shirt askew.

“Wow!” is all you can say as the group laughs.

Namjoon smiles and claps your shoulder. “Right?” he asks and you can only nod and turn your eyes back up toward the cliff from which you’d descended.

Now far too distant to discern amongst the foliage, the loading platform sits somewhere lost in green. And, without meaning to, your mind wanders back to Park Jimin and you wonder idly if he’s counting to ten.

Sunset drenches the island as you lounge on the warm sand, leaning back on your elbows with eyes half-shut as you gaze out at the glittering ocean touching the horizon line. The sky is darkening by degrees, with vibrant reds and oranges spreading like watercolor into the navy blue edges. And for a blissful moment, you’re alone with it. Alone with the profound. And you’re not thinking about the new job you’d taken, or the text messages Hanseul left you this morning, or the bills you know you’ve got to pay soon. You’re not thinking about anything.

It’s beautiful.

Of course, it’d be more beautiful with a pina colada, but you don’t let your mind linger there too long. After all, Namjoon said this trip was supposed to be about adventure and ‘finding yourself’. You aren’t sure how much of yourself you can really find at the bottom of a fruity drink.

Namjoon invited you on this trip a year ago. He’d done it in typical Namjoon fashion: calling you up at two in the morning and rambling incoherently for a while before eventually getting to the point. You’d become so used to his pipe dreams that you’d half expected this plan to fall through like the others. The second the words left his lips, you’d rolled your eyes.

“What I’m saying is,” he began, breathless over the phone, as you push yourself up onto your bottom, bed sinking beneath you, “let’s go to Fiji.”

“Joon…,” you groaned. “Please, I have work tomorrow-,”

“Listen, fuck your job,” he said and you could practically see him waving his hands like a man gone mad. “This is important. Like…might be the most important thing we’ve ever done together, you know?”

“Where is this even coming from?” you asked, stifling a yawn. You glanced out your window and saw the city painted black, pinpricks of yellow office building lights.

He sighed. “I was looking up tropical music for this new song I’m working on for the trainees and I stumbled upon this incredible video about Fiji.”

“Like a generic white girl vlog?” you asked with a laugh, but Namjoon seemed deathly serious as he remained silent. You paused a moment. “Wait, you’re like…for real with this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, of course.” He was quiet. “I just…I dunno…I guess, while we’re still young enough to do it, I wanna experience something incredible. While we still can. While things are still like this.”

“What do you mean?” You raised a hand to open your window, let in some cool night air, but as you jammed your hand along the pane, the thing only rattled dumbly in response. You huffed, focused.

“I mean life is transient and nothing’s guaranteed,” he said. “Who knows who we’ll be tomorrow, you know? Who knows how long these moments will last?”

You stilled for a moment, staring out your closed window, hand still poised to force it open. You glanced over your shoulder at your tiny apartment — clothes strewn over every piece of furniture, easel gathering dust in the corner of your living room, unused for the better part of a year, paintings still unhung propped against walls on the floor — and couldn’t help but sigh. As silver moonlight filtered in through your curtains, you felt an unfamiliar tug in your chest. A longing that didn’t make sense.

You had the job, the boyfriend, the social life…

You had it all.

But why did Namjoon’s words make you feel so hollow?

And before you even realized what you were doing, you replied, “How much is it gonna cost?”

“What’re you thinking about?” asks a soft voice from beside you.

Startled, you scramble slightly, sending a spray of sand flying through the air. You sputter a little, having inhaled too quickly for your lungs to handle, and squint against the golden sun. But as you settle enough to face the person beside you, you’re surprised to see it’s Jimin. Sunset drenches the expanse of shoreline, catches in the ends of his black hair, outlines the side of his rosy cheek as he gives you an easy smile.

You raise your brows. “Hm?”

He chuckles, rubs the back of his neck, and shrugs as he digs the heels of his hands into the sand, leans back on them. “Just...looked pensive.”

“Pensive…,” you repeat, mulling it over. You purse your lips. “I guess just...thinking about this trip.”

“What about it?”

“Just...why I even bothered coming,” you begin, then chuckled and eyed him sidelong. “You saw how I was today. The whole...adventure thing isn’t really my scene.”

He smiles, revealing on closer inspection one charming crooked tooth, and tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean? You looked like you were having the time of your life!” he says, nudging you with his elbow.

You smile at your knees, now pulled toward your chest, and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, but you know I was a mess.”

He pouts a little. “You weren’t.”

Glancing his way, you find him with furrowed brows staring distantly at the ocean. “Mm…,” you mumble in response.

He sighs. “You were scared,” he begins, then shrugs. “But you did it anyway. What’s so bad about that?”

You sense that he’s perhaps talking about something else while talking about you. Like he’s saying two things at once. But you don’t bother prying. Instead, you simply sigh and join him staring at the surf.

“It’s beautiful, huh?” you remark as the two of you sit side by side. And there’s a gentle sort of quiet between you, one you never expected to share with someone like Jimin.

But somehow, here he is. And looking at him as he watches the waves splash forward and recede, you can’t help but feel a little guilty for your attitude towards him. Guilty for the dread you’d felt as you boarded the plane behind him. Guilty for the scowl you’d worn as he walked beside you on the trail up to the zipline today. Guilty for the complaints you’d aired to Namjoon about him.

“Yeah,” he says with a pleasant, lazy smile.

Birdsongs welcome you to the fresh island morning. Lazily, you roll onto your side and peel your eyes open, straining against the sunlight pouring in through your ocean-facing windows. You yawn, pushing yourself up onto your bottom to stretch sore arms above your head. You twist your torso this way and that, crack your knuckles, point your toes as you extend your legs before you. The room is filled with bright morning light, all hardwood floors and tapestries on the walls. You glance around your bedroom -- one of eight private rooms in this massive Airbnb -- and realize with a start that this is the first morning in years that you haven’t immediately grabbed for your phone to check for work emails.

You expect, perhaps, to be unnerved by this. This lack of structure, lack of organization.

But, perhaps more unsettlingly, you are…

Surprisingly calm.

You shake your head and pad on bare feet into the bathroom beside your room. As you brush your teeth, you lock sleepy eyes with your reflection and can’t help but crack a little smile. For the first time in a long time, you look like you’ve had a proper night’s sleep.

You emerge in the living room a few moments later to find Taehyung -- Namjoon’s stylist friend -- and Seokjin -- Namjoon’s actor friend -- still sleeping on the couch, the TV still droning on as they’d likely forgotten to turn it off. And, standing in the kitchen by himself nursing a cup of coffee and a calm smile, is Namjoon. He’s caught a bit of a tan, glowing in the gentle sunlight, and his eyes are warm and fond as he looks out across the living room at his friends.

As quietly as you can manage, you maneuver around the sleeping boys and take a place beside Namjoon, resting a hip against the marble counter. “Morning,” he says softly.

You nod once. “Morning,” you repeat, and hold your hand out for his mug of coffee, wiggling your eager fingers. He chuckles and relents without much fight, offering the handle to you carefully. You take a warm, welcome sip and sigh. “How’d you sleep?” you ask.

He hums a little and adjusts the sleeve of his loose tee. “So tired I didn’t even dream,” he says with a laugh.

Smiling you reply, “Me either.”

He eyes you with a knowing smile and squints a little. Like he’s teasing you. “You like it here, don’t you?” he asks.

You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a healthy shove. He laughs in response, but says nothing more as you sweep your gaze out toward the wall of windows leading down to the beach. It’s immaculate in the morning time. Not a single silhouette dots the shoreline, only fishing boats just beyond the surf. Tourists are still asleep, you reckon, and you feel a little proud to not be one of them sleeping away the most beautiful hours of the day. You can see faint traces of clouds ringing the horizon, and the pastel yellows of sunrise giving way to the azure blue sky.

“It’s...really nice,” you admit with a nod, sipping the coffee once more. And, without meaning to, you think of Jimin yesterday. His hand on your shoulder, his comforting words reminding you to ground yourself before you floated away. “Yeah…,” you add, concealing an unintended smile.

Namjoon, however, has always been the smarter one out of the two of you and, predictably, he catches this shift in your expression and turns to you head on with raised brows. “Whoa!” he remarks with a grin. He points to your face with his index finger. “Look at that!”

You swat his hand away with a laugh and roll your eyes. “Lay off, alright? I’m having a good time. Isn’t that the whole point?”

He chuckles and sighs as he rests once more beside you. Gently, he lifts a hand to softly pat the top of your head. You’re certain your shock registers plainly on your face as he pats again. “I’m proud of you,” he says.

And in the simplest of phrases, he’s managed to pluck something profound from inside of you. You don’t need to ask to know precisely what he means.

Why does it make you want to cry?

“Morning,” says a quiet voice from behind Namjoon and, leaning slightly so you can see around your friend’s broad chest, you notice Jimin standing there and can’t help but smile.

He glances between Namjoon and you for a few seconds, brows lifted as if in question, before Namjoon clears his throat and wordlessly excuses himself, snatching his coffee on his way back into the living room where he begins rallying the boys awake.

You sigh, running a finger along the countertop’s perfect edge. “What’s on the agenda for today?” asks Jimin as he settles beside you.

You pause to think. “Um…,” you begin, tapping your lips with your fingers. “I think…,” you continue, musing as you begin to work your lower lip between your index finger and thumb. “Something about ATVs.”

But before you’ve even finished your sentence, Jimin has seized your hand in his and is now standing so close you can smell the scent of his detergent wafting up from his pajama shirt. He stares down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a smirk, gaze flashing around your face before landing on your lips as he pulls both your hands down toward your shoulder. Your heart begins to race, eyes wide, skin hot where his fingers touch yours, and you swallow hard as he chuckles a few times, his breath fanning out across your warm face.

“Sorry,” he says, voice low and breathy. “It was distracting.” He then drops your hand and swivels on his heel, back toward the hallway from which he’d come. He pauses, however, to shoot you a wink over his shoulder. “Hard to focus when you do that,” he says, tapping his own plump lower lip with his fingertip before offering a wave and meandering down the hall.

And you stand there dumb, heart pounding so loud you can’t hear the crashing waves just outside the window.

You were shocked when you found out Hanseul had been messing around behind your back. Gutted, really. If it hadn’t been for Hanseul leaving his Instagram logged on to your phone, you’d probably never have found out to begin with. He’d always been that sort of guy, though.

Reckless.

And how very cliche, you’d thought as you read through months of exchanged messages, that he’d exchanged you like a used car for a newer model once he’d gotten tired of you. You dragged your finger almost lazily across the screen, brows raised as you rested on your couch, reruns of The Office blending into background noise. And where perhaps you’d expected hurt and resentment, you found only a grim acceptance.

Of course, you thought to yourself with a strange chuckle as you read the most recent message. A sappy sort of love IM that made your stomach churn. Riddled with sentimentality and grand platitudes, the messages reminded you of the ones you’d exchanged with Hanseul in the beginning. The ones that made you hopeful. Of course.

Somewhere amongst that grim acceptance, however, was something you didn’t expect. Something primal. A sort of fear that had no name.

Fear, perhaps, of the implications.

Fear of all the things that would have to change, all the comforts you’d known for years chipping away like old paint left on the wall too long.

And so, like a house of cards, your world shook and crumbled mightily down to its very foundation.

You’re slack-jawed as you stare at the row of ATVs standing equidistant before you. Eight identical machines pointed down the rolling hills behind you. An instructor standing with a grin and hands on her hips as she watches you scan the locomotives with your eyes wide and round. Beside you is Namjoon, smiling too broadly for his face to accommodate, with Seokjin and Taehyung drowsily fighting yawns. Jimin stands on your other side, arms crossed as he smirks at the ATVs like he’s done it all and seen it all before. His friend Jungkook is practically vibrating with anticipation, and Hoseok -- another choreographer from the company -- stands whispering in low tones with Yoongi, the young PD Namjoon never stops talking about.

The imposing green trees sway in the breeze around you: all potential threats as your group nears the line of ATVs. You wonder just how long you can manage on one of the things before hitting one of those tall waving trees. Anxiously, you glance over your shoulder at the hills extending as far as you can see. More possibilities for horrific injury.

As you tromp through the yielding sand underfoot, you feel someone step closer to you and you don’t need to lift your eyes from your boots to know who it is.

“You know, if you’re scared-,” Namjoon begins, but you silence him with a look, gaze severe.

He raises his hands in surrender before chuckling and patting your shoulder. He says nothing more as he swerves around you to hook his elbow around Taehyung’s neck. The two, laughing, continue toward the row of ATVs. Taking a moment to manage your breath, you press your palm against the rubber handle. You shut your eyes.

One.

You’re getting on this fucking ATV.

Two.

You’ve come this far, you can’t chicken out now.

Three.

You always chicken out.

Four.

When was the last time you did something that scared you this much?

Five.

Well...yesterday.

Six.

Before that though.

Seven.

When was the last time you took a risk?

Eight.

When was the last time you did something you wanted to do?

Nine.

Something you really wanted…

Ten.

You take a long inhale, nod once, and swing your leg over the side of the ATV. With both shaking hands gripping the handlebars, you glance to the side to see everyone else has mounted their vehicles, except for one. Jimin stands at the end of the line, talking with the guide too quietly to hear, but the way he’s waving his hands makes it seem like there’s a problem. The guide glances around, brows knit, before shrugging his shoulders and cupping a hand around the side of his mouth to shout.

“Hey guys! Looks like we’re one ATV short! Someone’s gonna have to share!” he calls, and grumbles resound around the group.

Beside you, Namjoon and Taehyung complain about having to share, both clearly not too keen on offering Jimin a spot on their ATV. You briefly feel bad for him, standing on the edge without a place to go to. You wonder if he feels left out, or if perhaps he’s considering staying back so the guide can show you the way. Without meaning to, you turn your head and lock eyes with Jimin and the instant you to you wish you hadn’t. Because now his eyes have lit up and his face is splitting in a small, hopeful smile.

And you know you’re cooked.

With a sigh, you raise your hand and wave it like mad, beckoning Jimin over. After all that, the breathing exercises and everything, after finding your courage, here you are handing over the reins.

“You can ride with me,” you say with a sigh as Jimin emerges at your side, smiling bright.

“Thank you,” he says with a laugh before hoisting himself up behind you.

“Oh!” you exclaim as Jimin rests his hands on his knees, right beside your thighs. He leans around your side and eyes you with wide brows. “I figured you’d wanna drive…,” you say, face going hot.

He blinks at you for a moment longer than normal before splitting into a grin and nudging your hip with his knee. “Well why would I do that?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “You looked really determined.”

Just like that, he understands exactly how you feel.

Startled, you turn to face him halfway, twisting your torso awkwardly as you lock eyes. He’s still smiling, still bright. The apples of his cheeks are redder than yesterday, and the bridge of his nose. A sunburn. He looks peaceful. As if he trusts you to drive this massive machine. As if it’s not even a thought that’s crossed his mind.

As if he never even considered taking this ATV from you.

“You guys ready?” shouts the guide with a hoot.

The boys around you holler their responses but you stay silent, still just staring at Jimin as he shields his face from the sun with one hand, still smiling, still peaceful.

You grip the handlebars and kick the ATV to life.

You first met Namjoon when you were in high school. He was a grade above you, so you’d never had reason to speak with him. Aside from passing him in the halls every now and again, you didn’t really interact with him at all. But things changed when he approached you after class as you finished cleaning off the blackboards. You’d stayed behind not because you wanted to, but because your classmate had pawned their classroom duties on you after a miserable game of Gin Rummy at lunch. You hadn’t protested much once the responsibility had fallen on your shoulders.

Another excuse to avoid going home.

Bony knuckles rapped against the blackboard beside your head and you jumped out of your skin, releasing a scream several octaves higher than you anticipated. But as the moment of panic passed, you realized with a start that the one who’d roused your attention was indeed upperclassman Kim Namjoon. And there he stood with a small dimpled smile and gentle eyes scanning you. You weren’t sure what he was looking for when he looked at you, but the way he tilted his head to the side made you think that perhaps he’d found it.

“Hey,” he said, face outlined by the last golden rays of autumn daylight.

You swallowed hard and took half a step back toward the podium. “Uh...hi…?”

“This yours?” he asked, dangling a sketchbook before you with one hand.

It took you several moments of squinting at the Strathmore sketchbook to realize that, in fact, it was yours. Your name was right there in the right corner where you’d scribbled it a month ago. And there was the tear in the cover from when your mother had tried to rip the thing from your hands -- unsuccessfully.

A rush of fear swelled through you and you snatched the pad from his outstretched hands like you were a prisoner and he was offering you food. Scared he’d rescind his offer if given even a moment to think it over. And as you clutched the thing to your chest, you scanned him with narrowed eyes.

“Where did you get this?” you asked. You were certain you had kept it safely in your bookbag since lunch. But glancing at the bookbag again, you found it surprisingly empty.

Namjoon raised his brows and raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, then chuckled with a shrug. “What kind of thief would return the thing they stole anyway?”

You paused for a moment, brows furrowed, before sighing and nodding. “I guess that’s true,” you admitted before gently guiding the sketchbook back into the mouth of your backpack. “Um…,” you hedged as you turned back to the guy. You held out your hand to him and he rolled up the long sleeve of his uniform cardigan to take it in his own. “Thanks,” you finished with a shake.

He shook his head. “Don’t mention it,” he said, laughing a little. “Had to ask around to find out which class you were in though.”

You felt a warm bloom of embarrassment and pulled your hand away, shoving it back into your pocket and averting your eyes. “I don’t have a job or anything,” you said.

He blinked at you. “Hm? What’re you talking about?”

You rubbed the side of your arm and shrugged. “My family’s kinda poor too. Like, we do fine, but my parents are really serious about money so…,”

“What’s your point?” asked Namjoon with wide, curious brown eyes.

You stared at him for a moment, puzzled, before continuing. “Aren’t you gonna ask for, like, reward money or something?”

He released a booming, chesty laugh before waving his arms like mad and shaking his head. “No! God, do I look like a thug to you?”

You eyed him from top to bottom and shrugged. “I don’t really know what a thug is supposed to look like.”

He sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “Forget the money,” he said, pausing to give you a warm smile. “I just wanted to meet the person who made those drawings.”

You went stiffer than a board. For a moment, time stood still. Namjoon froze before you, the gently falling leaves outside the classroom window froze, and you froze too. Like your feet were rooted to the ground.

“You...did you look through it?” you asked softly, too horrified to raise your voice above a bare whisper.

He nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I was looking for a phone number or something on the inside flap, but then I got distracted by the art.”

“You…”

“You’re really talented,” he said, offering another big smile. “Like, you could go pro if you wanted to.”

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting, and chucked the dirty blackboard eraser on the podium with a puff of fine dust. Without another word, you zipped up your backpack and slung it over your shoulders. You walked past him quickly, not even sparing him a glance, and walked faster when he followed you, calling after you and begging you to turn around.

Namjoon followed you around for a month after that: waiting outside your classroom after school, catching you off guard as you sketched in the courtyard during your lunch break, walking his bike behind you as you led the way to the bus stop, cheering for you at the sports festival and causing you to miss the volleyball coming straight for you. Every time he’d come around, you’d turn grey with horror and you wouldn’t say a word. But luckily for you, Namjoon said plenty enough for both of you. It was always, When are you gonna join the drawing club? or, You should start working on a portfolio, or, If you love art so much, why aren’t you applying to an arts college?

You didn’t bother asking how he knew where you were applying. As you’d gotten to know him, you’d begun to understand his uncanny ability to secure sensitive information from teachers. It seemed they all loved him about as much as you despised him. Not long after that comment, you finally began responding when he spoke to you. And you even began bickering like real friends.

After a while, you grew accustomed to him being around all the time. To the point that, when he graduated a year before you and went on to pursue a degree in music, you’d felt almost lonesome without him. And to the point that, when you texted him about your choice to pursue a degree in business, you were almost relieved when he caught the late bus out to your house to scold you.

One day you’re gonna snap, he’d said that night in a moment of calm. You’re gonna finally have enough of living for them. And it’s gonna hurt when it happens. Bad.

But the scolding had never been enough.

Because, in the end, that persistent fear ran like still waters through your body.

You’re realizing more and more that it’s the same fear. That it’s always been the same fear. Back then when you were so scared of losing Hanseul that you considered not even telling him you’d found the messages. In high school when you were too scared to show anyone your sketchbook. Even now, as you straddle the vibrating ATV, Jimin’s arms wrapped lazily around your middle as he giggles behind you, you’re scared to make a single sound for fear of messing up your focus on the hills before you.

If you really think about it, it’s all the same.

When you boil it down to its core, it’s always been the same.

Fear of fucking up.

Like you’ve been walking a tightrope from the start, and any small misstep will result in you plummeting, face first, into the ground below.

Your knuckles go white against your skin as you clutch the handlebars. Stiff, you follow the guide as he vaults over a hill, having no choice but to do the same. You launch your ATV over the sandy bump, sending both you and Jimin flying through the air. And even though a part of you expects to go splat in the dirt, after a few weightless seconds of flight, the two of you return to earth in one piece. This time, it isn’t Jimin’s laughter that startles you.

It’s your own.

“Holy shit!” Namjoon shouts as he runs toward you, face covered in fine dust. He grins at you like you’re his child, and as you slide off the side of the ATV, he sweeps you up in a big hug, laughing. “You did so good!”

You laugh too, patting his flexed bicep, and lean away slightly to get a better look at his dirty face. “God,” you say with a laugh, running the pad of your fingertip along his cheek, leaving behind a stripe of clean skin. “You need a shower, Joon.”

He nods and peels himself away, turning his attention to Jimin behind you. “You don’t look so good,” he remarks with raised brows.

And as you turn to see for yourself, you notice that in fact Jimin doesn’t look so good. Up until then it had been all laughter and smiles and playful squeezes, but now that he was standing in the dirt, arms crossed, leaning back against the ATV with his helmet in his hand, he looked...less than pleased. He watches you and Namjoon with narrowed eyes.

Oh God, you think in a moment of blind panic, I bet he wanted to drive the ATV after all...

But the moment Namjoon approaches and claps his hand against Jimin’s shoulder, the latter perks up and his eyes go bright once more. He turns a grin towards you and offers a big thumbs up. The sky above his waving hair is a perfect blue, and the sun is unrelenting, but somehow his smile is brighter. Carefully, you join the duo and pat the ATV with a sigh. Looking at it now, it doesn’t seem so scary at all. And after all the tips your guide had given throughout the course, you feel ready to do it all again if you get the chance.

Jimin eyes you with a fond smile. “How’d you like it?” he asks.

You hum. “It was...really exhilarating,” you say with a grin. Gently, you reach out your hand for Jimin to shake and without missing a beat he laughs and takes it.

But instead of shaking it, he gives a sharp yank and you go tumbling into his chest. Heart hammering, you struggle to regain your footing, but before you can process what’s going on, Jimin wraps both arms around your back and holds you tight. You’re sure your face reveals your chagrin, so you’re careful to keep it buried in his chest. And although it’s muffled through the fabric of his shirt, you can hear Jimin’s heart thumping quick.

“Thanks for letting me ride with you,” he says quietly against your hair.

You swallow hard, nerves making your hands sweat, and nod once. “Um...yeah, of course.” You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes your parted lips and, hesitantly, you reach around to pat Jimin’s back with one hand. “It was fun.”

He backs up with a smile, but keeps one hand on your shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s do it again when we get home.”

You laugh again, eyes wide. “Are there ATV courses at home?”

Jimin pauses, purses his lips, and shrugs. “Let’s find out.”

Namjoon snaps his fingers. “Shoot! What time is it?” he asks, brows knitting.

You check the watch around your wrist and squint at it, but it’s hard to focus on anything with Jimin still touching you. “Um...half past two,” you say, brain foggy as Jimin steps closer.

He glances over your shoulder to stare intently at your wristwatch. Easily, he slides his hand along your shoulder blades before letting it rest at the small of your back. You can feel the ends of his hair tickling your hot cheek. He hums a little beside you and nods once, as if he is simply verifying the time. Perhaps he is simply doing that.

“Shoot!” Namjoon exclaims again. “If we don’t leave, like, now we’re gonna be late for snorkeling!”

Without meaning to, you slide your eyes toward Jimin and raise your brows only to find him staring at you with the same expression. The two of you share a knowing look before breaking into small smiles.

“Wouldn’t wanna be late for snorkeling,” Jimin says under his breath as Namjoon jogs back toward the guide, all the while frantically miming with his hands.

You grin. “God forbid.”

Hanseul said something once that really stuck with you. Not the sort of sentimental thing that you thought might’ve stuck with you, but something entirely mundane. Something trivial, something said in passing.

It was a Sunday afternoon. Neither of you had work, so you’d decided to take a nice long drive through the city. The sky was endlessly blue and beautiful, and even though you were just one car in the infinite stream of vehicles on the highway, you felt somehow free. With the windows rolled down all the way and music bumping softly through Hanseul’s car’s speaker, you remember shutting your eyes and just...breathing for a minute. And that was enough.

“Jesus Christ!” Hanseul shouted with a belabored sigh, and your eyes snapped open once more. You were quick to locate the source of his frustration and found, merging into your lane from the right, a massive freight truck. “I will never understand the hubris of semi drivers who think it’s a good idea to pass other semi drivers.”

Settling your racing heart, you sighed and breathed a laugh. “Impatience I guess,” you remarked, but he was prickly beside you and you knew he wasn’t finished.

He scoffed. “As if passing that guy is gonna get him there any faster,” he said, then rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Everyone should just go their own pace.”

And with that, he stopped talking. And you returned to leaning your head against the passenger doorframe, gazing out at the line of cars entering the highway.

The sun is white hot on your bare skin as you tread water, face bobbing just below the ocean’s surface. Floating like a buoy, you squint into the endless blue to catch a glimpse of some wildlife. It’s not as easy as it looks on Instagram, that much is clear to you now. The waves waves are gentle but restless as they rock you around and the plastic of the snorkel pushes uncomfortably against the sensitive skin of your lips. Your arms and legs are still sore from the previous day’s hike, and now your thighs ache from gripping the ATV. But somehow, despite the hardiness of it all, as you float parallel to the ocean floor, you can’t help but stare with wide-eyed wonder every time a flash of red fin or plume of underwater dust catches your eye. And so, mystified, you swim onward.

You feel someone swim up beside you, but it’s too much labor to look and you can’t tear your eyes away from a particularly beautiful fish cresting over the top of some coral beyond your fingertips. It’s only when that someone taps your shoulder that you finally snap from your daze and, blinking quickly, burst out from beneath the water and shove your snorkel to the side. Fearing catastrophe, you turn gasping toward Jimin as he wades beside you with a grin.

And your heart settles down.

You pat your chest a little and sigh. “Jesus,” you mumble.

“Scared you?” he asks, and from this close it’s hard not to get caught up in the brown of his eyes, in the wet ends of his dark hair as they dangle just above his eyebrows.

With the saltwater and the sunlight kissing his skin, he’s practically glowing.

You shake your head. “What’s up?” you ask.

He points with one finger toward the water below and wiggles his brows. “You wanna go down with me? The instructor said it’s really awesome.”

You stare at him for a long moment, trying to discern any malintent or ulterior motive and, upon gleaning none, settle for a nervous, breathy laugh. “Ah, I dunno…,” you say, rubbing your nose with the side of your finger. You look away, toward Jungkook’s fins as they flap violently against the glassy surface of the water. “I’m happy just looking from up here.”

Jimin hums a little. “You sure?” he asks, eyeing you like he knows something you don’t. “You seemed really into it when I came over.”

You swallow hard and your mouth tastes like seawater and anxiety. “No, I’m…,” you start, but it’s weak. The sentence trails into nothing.

He smiles bright enough to blind and you almost have to shield your eyes. “Come on,” he says, offering his hand toward you. “We’ll go down together and come back up together. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

You stare at his outstretched fingers, pruny and slightly sunkissed, and ponder for a moment. Were you always so tepid? So lukewarm? Wasn’t there ever a time in your life when you did things just because they sounded fun? Thinking back, it’s hard to pinpoint the precise moment you became so pragmatic, so afraid. Perhaps when your parents told you a career in art wouldn’t work out for you. That you didn’t have the stuff. Perhaps even before that.

But deep down, buried deeper than you’d like you admit, there’s a part of you that’s always wanted to zipline through the jungle. To ride ATVs. To see the coral up close.

That slumbering part of you is beginning to awaken.

And you wonder as you take Jimin’s hand with an uncertain smile if this has been your pace all along.

He giggles and the two of you dive in unison. You follow the instructions the snorkeling teachers gave you on the boat, and you hold your breath just the way you’re supposed to. Nonetheless, the deeper you swim, the cooler the water becomes and the more your nerves begin to rattle.

Only this time, you don’t find it unpleasant. Not at all, actually.

Because Jimin’s hand is warm.

The two of you coast to a stop in front of the vibrant red coral as a school of orange fish rushes by in a wave. You both reel back for only a moment and then, catching each other’s eyes, exchange the biggest smiles your snorkels allow. And boy is Jimin right. It is awesome. You swear you’ve never seen colors like this. Juxtaposed against the perfect blue all around, the coral reef stands like a mountain underwater, fish flying like birds around the jagged pink peaks, hiding in the deep purple. Anemones wave so close you’re tempted to touch them, and as you lean closer for a better look, you see a red seahorse nestled beside a green sea plant. As if sensing you there, the tiny fish scoots out from its cover and makes its way toward you. Eagerly, you extend your index finger and the creature nudges you just slightly before continuing on its way to the other side of the coral barrier.

Your heart is pounding, racing like a sports car and loud like one too. You turn toward Jimin with eyes blown wide and he’s grinning at you, so fond. He gives your hand a squeeze and you can’t help but squeeze back. Wordlessly, he jerks his head toward the surface, and the way the water plays with his hair makes it look like silk. You’re distracted for a moment by how beautiful it is, how beautiful he is, but he squeezes your hand again and once more jerks his chin upward. Ah! You need air!

You only realize it as Jimin makes a motion toward the surface, but now that you’re conscious of it it’s all you can think of. Quickly, the two of you begin kicking in unison toward where the water breaks way and, as you pop out from below, the two of you gasp a little while catching your breath. Wasting not a single second, you rip your snorkel off and shove your goggles up against your hairline. Grinning so wide it hurts, you smack Jimin’s shoulder.

“That was--!! It was--!!” you begin, but you can’t even finish your sentence.

Jimin laughs, that one laugh that sounds like bells, and his eyes nearly vanish as he smiles. “Right?” he asks.

You nod, clapping your hand against your cheek. “God! Did you see that seahorse?!”

“I did!”

“Wasn’t it--?!”

“It was!”

You laugh, exhilarated, and stare down at the distorted coral reef below your feet, warped by the shifting water. Your heart is a hammer in your chest. “Jimin!” you exclaim, not knowing quite what else to say.

He laughs. “Yeah!”

You turn to him, sincerely this time as the adrenaline slowly drains from your body, and meet his half-shut eyes. You realize with a start that you’re still holding his hand quite tight. And he’s making no move to change that. Gently, you squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, and it’s all you can say really.

Drifting together in the middle of the ocean, two dots floating in the blue expanse, there’s something both completely insignificant and totally profound about it all. You can’t name it, but the sensation in your chest feels like when you finally get the water out of your ear after a day at the pool. Like something got dislodged.

And as Jimin looks at you with that bright smile, you smile back. “I’m glad you came,” he says gently.

And it’s honest.

Almost honest enough to make you forget the things he said when you first met.

“Why’d you say all that stuff at the bar back home?” you manage to ask over the sound of Hoseok laughing nearby.

You glance over to where Hoseok and Jungkook swim chatting away, much like you and Jimin.

Only they aren’t holding hands.

Jimin’s hand goes a little tight and he clears his throat. “Uh...well,” he begins, but before he can continue, Namjoon pops up from below the water right beside you.

You scream in surprise and smack the top of his head with your snorkel, but Namjoon only laughs and gives you a splash. “What’re you guys doing? There’s a whole ocean down there!” he asks, but when his eyes travel sideways toward Jimin, his expression changes. Like a nervous dog.

You look too and see Jimin looks...well, pretty mad. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s like there’s some tension between Jimin and Namjoon today. A sense of competition perhaps? It’s hard to say. But as you stare at Jimin now, his brow is low and his jaw is clenched and he quietly slips his hand from yours.

You’re not expecting to be sitting beside legendary producer Min Yoongi on a rattling motor boat in the middle of the ocean, but here you are. Life is funny that way, you suppose as the two of you jostle against one another. Shoulder-to-shoulder you sit like students on a field trip, neither one saying much of anything at all. As the sun begins its lazy descent across the sky, you’re stranded, sunburnt, returning to shore after a long afternoon with the fish.

You glance around for someone to save you, to perhaps sweep you up in one of the several shouting conversations being held around you on all sides, but your eyes can’t seem to snag anyone else’s. Well, besides Namjoon who eagerly widens his own and gives you that big dumb smile that somehow has become bigger and dumber since arriving on the island. Even Jimin won’t look at you and is, in fact, sulking at the end of the rows of benches, gazing out at the trail of sunset leaking out across the water like a golden road. Perhaps he’s wondering, like you, what it might be like to walk on it.

Or perhaps he’s mad at you.

Your heart sinks.

You can’t place it, but he doesn’t seem himself. After sliding his hand from inside yours, he’d swum away from you and Namjoon to begin chatting with Yoongi. It’s not easy to make a show of being mad when you’re treading water in the middle of the sea, but he managed. As goofy as it was to watch him doggie-paddle away in a huff, part of you worried that you’d somehow set him off. Like you’d activated that part of him from the night you met, the angry, bitter part that he’s been holding in the entire trip so far.

But what could you have done?

Nothing, as far as you’re concerned. He’s neither a friend nor a lover. He’s just…someone you know through Namjoon. Just a cursory orbiter in your solar system. You barely think about him when you’re apart.

Well…you used to.

Now, as you watch him watching the water, it’s all you can do not to stand up on wobbly sea legs and stumble over to him with crossed arms and demand he tell you what’s wrong. And, more disturbingly, now as you watch him watching the water, there’s a strange, sickly sweet part of you that wants to sit beside him and press the bare skin of your thigh against his.

“He’s just moody,” Yoongi says from beside you, the first words he’s spoken to you during the entirety of this trip.

Your eyes go wide and you turn only your head — it’s the only part of you that’s not squished between him and the inside of the boat — to look at him. Pale and pretty, Yoongi is watching Jimin too. But with a considerably less troubled expression than your own. He slides his eyes toward you and offers a small, barely there smile.

“You’re worried, right?” he continues.

You think for a moment, think about lying, but the motor on this boat is far too loud for anyone else to hear your conversation and besides…it sounds like Yoongi’s got some information on Jimin that you want to know.

Not that you like him or anything.

You nod. “Yeah, a little. Things were really cool all day today, but…,” you begin, then sigh and shrug. “Seems like maybe he doesn’t like me much.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Doubt that,” he says, then rolls his eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, whatever he’s thinking.

Only it’s not obvious. You have no idea what’s going on in that genius brain of his, and the way he eyes you sidelong let’s you know he’s not going to tell you. Not easily anyway.

So you sigh and rest your cheek in your hand. “I just think he hates me,” you continue, doubling down, hoping that circumnavigation will get you to the treasure.

Yoongi cocks a brow. “He definitely doesn’t hate you,” he says, and there’s something in the word ‘definitely’ that sounds like he’s hiding something inside it.

“We were having such a nice time,” you go on, feigning a heavy sigh, “but then poof. Like nothing even happened. I think I made him mad.”

“If you’re trying to get me to gossip about my friend, I’ll tell you right now,” Yoongi begins, then leans toward you with a conspiratorial smirk, “all you had to do was ask.”

Your eyes alight and you grin. “Really?”

“Jimin’s scoping you out,” Yoongi says, nodding once like again it’s obvious. “He’s testing the waters.”

“Why?”

“Duh,” he says with a laugh. “He’s interested in you. Has been since we all met at the bar.”

You stiffen. Interested? You can’t really fathom it. Someone like him, a bona fide and self admitted heart breaker, is interested in you? Perhaps you’ve been dating too many Hanseuls but the thought of a Jimin being interested in you is inconceivable.

“How’d you know?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

He smiles and shakes his head. “We’ve been friends for ages now. I know when he’s interested in someone,” he says. He pauses, glances at Jimin only to find him now staring with wide eyes at the two of you. Like you’re sharing secrets. Which…you suppose now that you are. “He doesn’t always know though.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting Jimin’s worried eyes from across the boat. You offer a smile, almost like a white flag, which he doesn’t reciprocate.

“He’s been through bad relationships in the past. You know how that goes, from what Namjoon says,” Yoongi pauses to laugh.

You go hot. You didn't known Namjoon had made your relationship information public domain. You’ll have to have a word with him soon. “From the way he talked at the bar, sounds like he’s the one who puts other people through bad relationships.”

“No, that’s a recent development,” says Yoongi, nodding. “He wasn’t always like that. Used to be a really attentive guy, but…I dunno. You get burned one too many times and you start doing the burning I guess.”

You cock a brow. “Is that right?” you ask, and plead with your unreasonable heart to stop pounding like mad in your chest. Why are you so excited to learn about him? “Seems like a real player.”

“Who still uses that word?” Yoongi teases with a laugh and you’re surprised by just how often he laughs. “Anyway, no. He only seems that way. He’s actually, like…really possessive and jealous. Kinda what self destructed his last real relationship.”

“No way,” you say, recalling what he’d said that night.

If you get hurt you’re the one whose expectations were too high.

Was that advice for me or for himself? I turn to look at Jimin only to find him with that same nervousness etched into his features. He swipes his tongue along his bottom lip and knits his brows. You don’t know what exactly he’s so afraid of, don’t know what sort of relationship has warped him so badly, but you’re certain that this anxious, worried Jimin is the real one.

And so is the one who helped you at the zipline on the first day.

And so is the one who held your hand underwater.

And so is the one who is still giving you the silent treatment.

You understand better than anyone that emotional trauma manifests in many ways. For you, it was burning your first easel and giving your paints away to your cousin back in high school. For you, it was getting a boring office job to make your parents proud. For you it was dating Hanseul after Hanseul expecting it to be different.

It’s never different.

But there’s one thing you know for sure: Park Jimin is very, very different.

The Fijian bar is packed to the nines with tourists from all walks of life. Some tall, burly men in Hawaiian shirts — somehow simultaneously on brand and horrendously off brand for Fiji —, a few couples kissing and toughing over margaritas, a bachelorette party — who can afford a bachelorette party to Fiji? — and a whole hosts of other guests flood the scene. It doesn’t seem like Namjoon’s cup of tea, however, and it isn’t yours either. Not really. You prefer lively dive bars with questionable clientele and cheap drinks over tourist traps like this. But as they hand you your cocktail in a plastic tiki mug, you decide perhaps the campiness isn’t that bad. Especially as you take your first sip and realize they pour as heavy here as they do back home.

Jimin’s still boycotting you, and you don’t even bother wondering why. Different is alluring, it’s enchanting, it’s intriguing…

But it’s still dangerous.

And besides, once you leave this island and the magic spell breaks, you’ll see everything more clearly. Jimin included.

And so you’re boycotting him too.

Eagerly, you stand smushed between Yoongi and Jungkook as the fire dancers — is fire dancing even Fijian? — take the floor with an artistic flair. The crowd is electric, excited, and extremely drunk as you all chant for the dancers to take the stage. (Really, is fire dancing Fijian at all?) Jungkook grabs your shoulder and shakes it, causing you to both jump and laugh at the same time, and the three of you stand under the glow of the lanterns hanging on strings overhead. If you look up, you almost mistake them for stars.

As the dancers begin their performance, you cheer with all your chest, and you feel someone press close behind you. You can tell from the firmness of his chest that it’s Namjoon, staring over your shoulder at the stage. It’s hard to get a good view, especially with everyone so drunk, so you lean back and tilt your head out of his way. One hand drapes over your other shoulder as the other nurses his drink and you chat easily with Namjoon despite the physical proximity.

You two may as well have been siblings, anyway.

Had Jimin been that close to you…

Well, you try not to think of that as you work your swirly straw between your teeth.

“Pretty cool,” Namjoon says, but you catch the way his voice sounds just a little listless.

You turn slightly to face him with a grin and, poking his cheek where his dimple would be if he smiled, you giggle. Oh boy, you’re drunk. “I know you’d rather be dancing in caves or fishing for eels, but this can be fun too!”

Namjoon relents with a smile and swats your hand away. “You’re right,” he says easily, sighing as he rests close behind you. “Although fishing for eels sounds really cool.”

You smack his leg with the back of your hand and he responds with laughter. “You know, eels are actually-,”

“Hey,” says a voice you hardly recognize, a voice belonging to Jimin. Only when he speaks now it’s so low and deep in his chest it doesn’t sound like him at all.

You didn’t notice, but he’s taken up Jungkook’s spot at your left and he’s staring at you, all wrapped up in Namjoon, like you’ve committed a horrible crime. For all you know, you have. Nonetheless, you’re too drunk to be too worried and you give him a bright smile and a wave with your drink-less hand.

He edges closer, skin electric as he presses against your side. “You’re smashed,” he remarks, like it’s news.

You laugh. “Mhm!”

He furrows his brow. “You sure you’re good to stay out here?”

“I’m watching, don’t worry,” Namjoon offers with a well-meaning smile.

But this only serves to make Jimin bristle further. He stares at you two like you’re a disfigured monster, two conjoined bodies linked from chest to back, a horrible science experiment gone wrong. And you can’t decide what mixture of emotions is dancing in his dark, heavy eyes but you know it’s no good.

“Alright then,” Jimin says with a sharp nod. “I won’t worry anymore.”

Only you want him to worry. If you’re being honest with yourself — which you are now because he’s right, you’re smashed — you want him to do more than worry. You want him to take your hand and hold it tight. You want him to press his lips against yours in the hallway by the bathrooms. You want his hands on your hips, then on your legs, then—

Well…

Jimin turns around to skulk back to the bar and you let him. Things are spinning and they’re getting too intense too fast. That’s the difference between A Jimin and A Hanseul. That’s the devastating difference. Where Hanseul adds stability, constancy, a bland sort of expectation, Jimin adds…

Excitement.

Perhaps it’s the old artist in you, the one you push down so fervently you often wonder if it’s died in there, but the idea both entrances you and terrifies you in equal measure. So you stay leaning back against Namjoon’s chest, swaying as you watch the fire dancers dazzle and delight, and watch out the corner of your eye as Jimin begins chatting with a particularly attractive blond tourist at the bar.

You pretend not to notice Jimin’s hand on the stranger’s thigh.

The next morning the stranger’s in your Airbnb. You’re the first one awake, having had a wicked headache as soon as you opened your eyes, and as you stare blankly into your coffee mug you hear footsteps coming almost bashfully from down the hallway. Nobody else is around in the living room. Just you, your coffee, and the footsteps. Squinting, you watch as the stranger, not even registering your presence, tiptoes down toward the kitchen and rifles through the fridge. Watching carefully, you almost laugh at the way the stranger picks up each fruit, inspects it, and puts it back before settling for a yogurt.

“Sleeping over and stealing food?” you remark, and you mean for the comment to sound teasing and playful. But it comes out bitter. Sincere.

The stranger lets out a particularly sharp scream before turning to you and dropping the yogurt onto the countertop. “Oh! Uh…shit…I’m…sorry I’ll just…go…now, uh…”

You can feel the awkwardness rising in the room, the sense of intimate dislike coming from both of you — mostly you. And before you can say another word, the stranger is gone, having shuffled like a raccoon caught mid-trash-heist out the front door with a click. You sigh, grip your nose bridge, and shake your head.

“Wow,” says Jimin from the hallway, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a frown. “Very mature.”

You roll your eyes. “You know it’s not that kind of trip and you still brought a stranger over,” you say, then look at him square. You’re both fuming. “At least vet the people you sleep with to make sure they’re not thieves.”

“It was breakfast,” he says. “Jesus Christ, you’re so stiff.”

Your body goes cold. Who is this new person in Jimin’s skin? Gone is the warm, comforting man who’d helped you day in and day out. In his place was someone new, someone off-putting. You clench your jaw. “Yeah well at least I don’t invite randos over to a shared Airbnb.”

“God,” he groans, lolling his head back like you exhaust him. “Do you ever get tired of being such a fucking stick in the mud?”

You feel your spine stiffen and set your mug of coffee aside. “Pardon me?”

“Like, does it ever get tiring?” he repeats, rolling his beautiful eyes, giving a cruel smirk. You hate that those beautiful lips can curve so wickedly. “Oh, I can’t do it! Oh, I’ll just stay back! Oh, I don’t even like painting,” he says with a dramatic mimicry of your own voice.

How does he know about the painting?

Namjoon…

Your throat constricts. “I’m trying, Jimin,” you say, but your voice comes out thick, labored. Because it’s not true. Because you’re not trying. Not in the real world. Not when you leave this island.

If you keep talking to him, you’ll cry for sure.

Just like before.

He laughs. “Trying?”

“At least I give enough of a shit to try at all!” you snap, and you expect regret to seep into your chest immediately, but it doesn’t come.

Jimin seems taken aback. He cocks a brow. “What’re you saying?”

“At least I’m still brave enough to care,” you continue, standing to your feet and brushing past him. You pause beside him and fix him with a hard glare. “Don’t talk to me again,” you say, and you spit the final word, “ever.”

And he doesn’t. Not as the pack travels through town and picks up little trinkets. Not while you stick practically glued to Namjoon’s side through alleyways and along crowded streets. Not during the night hike or the cave exploring or the picnic on the cliff. Not for days.

Not at all.

And you’re relieved, you think, that he’s respecting your request at least.

But you’re also burdened so heavily it’s like weights on your chest all the time. Because when you happen to meet his eyes, in the instant before you both look away, you see a fresh sort of hurt and you know it’s you who inflicted it this time. You know you touched on something too sensitive. And just because he poked at your open wound doesn’t mean you had a right to poke at his. There’s a vulnerable sort of awareness between you two, awareness of each other. So as you avoid touching the exposed skin of his shoulder with your hand while reaching for a necklace at a street vendor, or as you sweep a hand out in the darkness of the cave, seeking purchase, and nearly grab his forearm, the two of you are quick to repel like magnets.

You sit on a surfboard now, and the moon makes a road of light along the water just as the sun had. It’s the middle of the night, and you’re straddling both sides of the board as the waves rock you back and forth. And you tilt and you sway and you shut your eyes. A few weeks ago you’d have winced at the idea of floating out in the water at night, feet dangling over the expanse of ocean nothing below that extends who knows how far. You’d have called yourself crazy.

Maybe you are crazy.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

You open your eyes and see that road of light. Namjoon told you once that the Swedes have a word for it. Mångata. He told you that last night as the two of you sat on the beach. You’d been doing that lately, too uncomfortable to spend much time in the Airbnb with Jimin lurking about in the shadows and the walls and the scent of the pillows. He’s practically everywhere in there, even when he’s gone.

Namjoon also told you he thinks something’s wrong with Jimin. Something’s shaken him up.

You told him you didn’t care.

And he didn’t tell you anything more.

You kind of wish he would have.

Jimin hasn’t brought home any more strays, not since you and him had your monumental blowout. And while you’re glad he’s respecting you and the others more, you’re also worried. More worried than that day on the boat. More worried than that night at the bar.

Because you see it too. What Namjoon sees. Something is wrong.

Jimin floats several feet away, breaking the mångata into shards of displaced moonlight. He’s a silhouette, small and dark, but outlined by glowing silver. He’s beautiful, even from so far away. Especially from so far away. Ethereal. His head bobs a little and he smiles as he chats with Jungkook and Hoseok. But the smile isn’t all the way there. Even so, it’s lovely. Perhaps because he’s the only one in the road of moonlight, or perhaps because even a halfway ghost of a smile is beautiful if it’s Jimin.

For a painful, blissful moment, almost too short to note, almost too fleeting to feel, you have the irresistible urge to paint it. The road of moonlight, the mångata, leading right from the heavens to Jimin. Shattering like glass, the moonlight breaks behind his board. But he’s suspended in it.

You might cry again just looking at it.

You’re sure you’re all choked up. Night surfing shouldn’t make you cry. But you can’t help it. It’s like your art teacher said, like glimpsing sublimity. It’s torment, staring at it, knowing you can’t paint it and even if you could…you wouldn’t do it. You know your face reveals it all. It always does. And you know that if Namjoon so much as peeks at you, he’ll know you’re about to cry.

Not that he did the night you first met Jimin at the bar. In fact, the only person who seemed to realize you were near to tears that night was-

Jimin seizes your wandering, teary eyes. They lock on hard, like a vice grip, and hold tight. The moonlight’s on you, at least from where Jimin sits on his board, and you’re close enough to make out his features so you know he can make out yours. His eyes go wide like he knows and you know he knows for sure now because he’s paddling with his hands for rudders toward you which makes you panic for real and spin wildly around toward the shore.

You paddle and paddle like mad until your toes touch sand and you abandon your surfboard in the crashing waves forgetting it’s attached to you by your ankle. So you drag the surfboard behind you as the surf tries to drag it back. You know you can easily remove the ankle band and carry the surfboard like a normal person, but God you can’t seem to manage actually doing it because your heart is racing and you feel as if Jimin has unwittingly seen an extremely, horribly, heat-achingly intimate moment.

“Wait!” he calls, breathless, mere yards behind you despite you head start.

You’re crying in earnest now, sobbing as you fight with the cord tethering you to your board, tethering you to that moment on the waves. It’s like you and the surfboard are becoming one thing; you’re completely helpless to the whims of the ocean as it tears you back and spits you out. The tip of the foam board keeps rocking against the sand before the whole thing gets yanked out again and, frustrated, you finally bend down too late to disconnect yourself. But by the time you and the surfboard are once again separate entities, Jimin has run up behind you and is standing, panting, with his surfboard against his hip.

Your tears fall right off your chin and into the water around your ankles before they disappear on the receding wave. An ocean of stars is splayed out overhead, but you can’t even lift your eyes to see it, hands braced on both your knees, sobbing.

And this is the moment.

The moment you finally snap.

And when it happens, it does hurt. Bad.

Because Jimin was never really just Jimin, not really. He was more than that to you, represented more than that. He was the easel you burned. He was the art college brochure you hid from your parents. He was the job listing you saw as an apprentice painter three weeks before going on this trip. He was every missed opportunity, every chance you rejected. He was all of it wrapped into one pretty package.

And he’s staring at you.

You manage to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, but it’s not enough to stop the tears. It’s as if a valve has broken in you that can’t be fixed until everything’s been spilled out of it. An old valve too. As old as you.

“Shit,” he says, like it’s a catchphrase.

You sniffle. “You said that before too,” you choke out through sobs. “At the bar back home.”

He looks at you horrified for a moment before shaking his head. “I know, I…I just…sometimes I do and say things that just fucking suck, you know? Like they just…,” he says, tormented, as he rakes his fingers through his sea slick hair. “Like I can’t help it. It just comes out.”

“Because you’re hurt,” you say, still crying, nearly incoherent.

And his eyes snap back to your splotchy face with the kind of intensity that sets things on fire. “Huh?”

You nod. “That’s why you like me, right?” you ask, sniffling as you struggle to stand upright. “Because I’m hurt too. Hurt people find each other.”

Jimin is still and silent as stone before slowly, he touches a hand to his cheek and keeps it there. “I…it’s not like I’m hurt,” he says. “Just…that my first real relationship ended badly.”

“Yoongi told me,” you say, finally in control of your rapid breathing. “A little.”

Jimin stiffens before, like a rock, collapsing on the ground with his feet halfway in the waves’ path. Not knowing what else to do, you join him. “I thought we’d be together for life, you know? Like…I really believed that.”

You think back to Hanseul. Did you ever feel that way about him? “Mhm,” is all you can choke out.

“But…you know, things fall apart. I guess I was…I was expecting too much without giving all of myself,” he begins, nodding once as he wiped the space beneath his eyes. “Like you said. Half of me.”

“Did your ex say that to you?” you ask carefully, minding each syllable as you forced them out.

He nods. “Just like that too. You’re only giving me half of you and expecting all of me in return,” he repeats, sighing. “That’s why I did it!” he imitates.

“Did what?”

He’s quiet, and you know now why he was so hard on you at the bar. Why he’d known exactly where your weak points were. Because they were his weak points too.

“Why are you crying?” he asks finally, the elephant on the beach.

You swallow hard, the tears having slowed enough to see properly. Enough to see all your friends enjoying the surf and the moonlight. “Because it just…hit me,” you say slowly. “All at once, with no warning at all. It…hit me for real.”

“Is it because we’re leaving soon?”

You shake your head. “That’s not what I mean.” He’s quiet and you know he’s waiting for you to continue. You’re waiting too, if you’re being honest. To find the words. To understand it. “I mean…all of it. The entire crushing culmination of everything I’ve ever not accomplished.” You pause, watch your hands as they lace and unlace. “I think I get why Joon wanted us to come out here.”

“I was jealous,” Jimin admits. More like blurts, because the way he looks now once you meet his eyes is like he didn’t mean to say it. He’s blushing like crazy and he’s got a feral look in his eye. You await his next admission. “Of you and Namjoon. Even though it’s stupid. Even though we…you and me…we aren’t…”

You blink at him. “We aren’t what?”

“We aren’t anything.”

“Who says?”

He stares at you for a long moment. “Then you and Namjoon?”

You shake your head. “Good friends.”

“I…well shit,” he says again, a mantra. He rubs his forehead. “I’m stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“Just…you kinda reminded me what it was like to, like…,” he begins, tossing the words around in his mouth like they still aren’t right, “like feel butterflies, you know?” He shrugs. “To wanna show up for someone. To wanna try.”

You stiffen. It seems the two of you had a propensity for finding each other’s Achilles heel. You’d pinned him as well as he’d pinned you. “I…,” you begin, but there’s nothing you can say. Nothing you can do.

Well…

There is one thing.

But that one thing would change everything. Not just between you and Jimin, but between you and you. Between who you try to be and who you are. Between the life you’ve told yourself to be happy with and the life you want, the life you need.

This one thing…

It’s going to take more than a little courage.

If you’re feeling really nervous, I’ve heard it helps to shut your eyes and count to ten. Like, tell yourself you’re definitely gonna do it once you reach ten and just…go.

One.

He’s staring at you with stars reflected in his eyes.

Two.

Your heart is racing.

Three.

Your palms are itchy in the sand.

Four.

But he’s looking at you, looking like he really sees you.

Five.

Hanseul never looked at you like that.

Six.

Nobody ever looked at you like that.

Seven.

He’s red, his whole face.

Eight.

You’re shaking.

Nine.

Don’t you want to paint it?

Ten.

You lean forward on your hip and, without a word, press your lips agains his. They’re soft, every bit as soft as you imagined and softer, and his skin yields against your light touch. You shuffle closer and so does he, hand snaking around your waist to rest on your lower back, head tilting to deepen the kiss. There’s no teeth-clashing, no cataclysm. There’s a tenderness that only comes from understanding, and it’s warm pressed against him. He draws you closer, holds you by the waist now, you arms around his neck and hands lacing through his saltwater hair. He tastes like ocean, like coconut and sunscreen and salt. And his skin it hot beneath your fingertips, flaming practically. You can’t stop inching closer and closer until—

He pulls away for a breath, eyes wide and so close your noses touch. “Shit,” he exhales, only this time the word feels nice.

And you don’t know what this means or what you’ll do when you get home, but you know you’ve got to quit your job. And you know you’ve got to dust off your easel. And you know, most definitely, that you’ve got to kiss Park Jimin again.

And so you do.

Again.

And again.

And one more time for good measure.

And as you pull away, breathless, your eyes lock and he smiles just a little. “Does this mean I can talk to you again?” he asks.

You shove him lightly by the chest only for him to pull the two of you back together again like magnets, only this time you don’t repel. He smiles so bright it eclipses the moon and, without moving, without breathing, you ask, “Can I paint you?”

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

Text

TV Show Tag Game

I was tagged by @theonceoverthinker. Thanks, this looks fun (from what I saw in the rules XD).

rules: pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions. don’t cheat. tag 10 (or however many) people.

1. Winx Club

2. Lucifer

3. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

4. Gravity Falls

5. Once Upon a Time

what’s your favourite character from 1?

Griffin. I love all the little details that the show tells us about her in the 20 minutes of screen time she gets for 8 seasons. And her backstory is really interesting (at least the way I have imagined it to fill the gigantic hole that is only barely outlined by canon to separate it from the vast void of space.)

who’s your least favourite character in 2?

Eh... Cain? I did feel for him at some points but then he had to go and be like that! Sorry, but that’s just not something that can keep me rooting for ya.

what’s your favourite episode of 4?

Northwest Manor Mystery. Fun fact, along with the shapeshifter episode, this is the scariest episode in the series for me at least... Me, the person who doesn’t watch horror. Me, the person who doesn’t watch horror yet always ends up with the scariest episodes as her favorites. But yes, I love this episode. The Dipcifica storyline is incredibly strong and I love it. And the supernatural stuff is A++. Just a super neat episode.

what is your favorite season of 5?

I am struggling here between season 3 and season 7. But I was so obsessed with season 7 ever since it came out so I guess it did manage to root season 3 out of the favorite spot.

what’s your favorite couple of 3?

Philinda, no question about it. I was shipping this since way back in the beginning of season 1. And then it was finally canon... for 5 seconds. But still.

what’s your favorite couple in 2?

So this is kinda weird because it is totally Deckerstar but I somehow don’t exactly like putting it in here because for a long time I wasn’t certain if I even wanted them to go romantic. Like, they just needed to be together in whatever way and I guess that is exactly what the best couples have but idk... I just feel like focusing exclusively on the romance takes away from the couple because there is so much more there than just romantic love. It’s like, they have literally every kind of love and shoving them just in the romantic context feels like it doesn’t do their relationship justice if you get what I mean.

what’s your favorite episode in 1?

Okay, so hard tie between 2x18 (“The Heart of Cloud Tower”) and 3x10 whatever the hell that was called (I think I’ve seen at least three different names for this one in the different dubs so I didn’t bother remembering them).

what’s your favorite episode in 5?

Back to my roots on tumblr... That would be 4x20 “Mother”. Nothing has managed to surpass this episode for me even if the season isn’t the best by a far cry.

what’s your favorite season in 2?

Ah, damn. I really don’t know. All of the show is a big blur to me and I barely remember what happened at all not to mention in which season. I will be rewatching this but I want the last season to come out before I get to that so that I don’t run around the timeline in a disorderly fashion. But I think season 3... or season 2. i can’t really decide. I can think of things that majorly pissed me off in both... But, hmm, season 3 had one of the best deaths I’ve ever seen so I’ll go with that.

how long have you been watching 1?

Since my childhood. I can’t remember how old exactly I was when I first started watching it but probably around 7-8.

how did you get into 3?

Let’s just say it was random because the details are a bit problematic.

favorite actor in 4?

I have zero idea who the voice actors are tbh so I don’t really have one. I think they’re all good, though.

which do you prefer? 1, 2 or 5?

Currently 2. And 1. But 2 is definitely much better. I’m into 1 mostly for a few characters in particular and whatever cool thing I catch in between.

which show have you seen more of, 1 or 3?

Eh, I am not sure, actually. I haven’t watched 1.5/8 seasons from Winx and 1/6 seasons from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Idk which would constitute as more when they have a different length of the episodes.

if you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

I guess being Bill Cipher could be kinda cool. I don’t want to be anyone else but myself tbh.

would a crossover of 3 and 4 work?

Yes. They had their fears seeping into our dimension through a rift in space in 3 (and also kinda the same in 4, actually) so I guess they could get sucked into an animated show as well. That wouldn’t be too weird considering everything else that has happened. And then they could investigate Gravity Falls. That would totes work out.

pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple?

I’m gonna say Stella and Layla. Don’t @ me because I am already developing an AU set of headcanons that I simply haven’t found the time and desire to write out yet. But just you wait!

overall, which show has the better storyline, 3 or 5?

Yeah, like you can pick between those two kinds of craziness. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D feels better written tbh, especially when you compare the quality of the later seasons, but my god, the angst levels. That is too much, stop it!

which has better theme music, 2 or 4?

Lol, I’m not even sorry for this but... Lucifer. The music in this show just rocks so hard, damn!

Tagging: @her-majesty-wears-jeans, @trashcankitty12, @darcyinstilettoes, @intothewickedwood if you want to kill some time and have fun with this! XD Also, if anyone else wants to do it, do it! It’s a lot of fun!

#tag game #tv shows #about me #kinda

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erectionsandtea · 6 years

Text

100 Questions

Tagged by @mileven-and-contemplation (you gave me something to do today)

1. What is your nickname? Maddy is my nickname :P

2. How old are you? Too fucking old, okay

3. What is your birth month? August

4. What is your zodiac sign? Leo

5. What is your favorite color? Blue, any shade :)

6. What’s your lucky number? 13, lol

7. Do you have any pets? 5 mollys (1 adult and 4 babies), 6 tetras, and a black mystery snail (all freshwater fishies and creatures) :D

8. Where are you from? ‘Murica

9. How tall are you? Like 5′7″ or so ?

10. What shoe size are you? 9 1/2 ? Give or take

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? A box-full, maybe...10 pairs if we’re including slippers? Dude, I’m not sure of anything, half of my answers will end in question marks :P

12. Are you random? You tell me

13. Last person you texted? The bf :3

14. Are you psychic in any way?

15. Last TV show watched? Currently rewatching American Dad, last show not rewatched though..the new season of Archer

16. Favorite movie? 12 Angry Men (and then How to Train Your Dragon)

17. Favorite show from your childhood? Depends on what constitutes “childhood”, but I’m gonna say The Simpsons and Futurama (basically Matt Groening was my childhood)

18. Do you want children? Idk, maybe someday

19. Do you want a church wedding? Sure, if I get married, but the church has to be by a beach

20. What is your religion? I identify as neo-Pagan

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Once when 5 year-old me thought I broke my arm, and another time to the psych ward

22. Have you ever gotten in trouble with the law? Uhhh, I walked to the library once when I was like 10 without telling my parents, and a policeman picked me up, does that count?

23. How is life? A bitch, but sometimes a nice bitch, sooo basically normal

24. Baths or showers? Showers

25. What color socks are you wearing? I’m not wearing socks

26. Have you ever been famous? Briefly among Supernatural fans, when I wrote and performed this during the 2013 Mishapocalypse, I mean that’s the closest I’ve ever been (and probably ever will be)

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? I used to think so, but imagine the anxiety, fuck no

28. What type of music do you like? Literally a little bit of everything, at least one song in every genre (but mainly I’m stuck on ‘80s jams)

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Not yet, lol

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? Four

31. What position do you usually sleep in? On my side or on my stomach

32. How big is your house? One story

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? I’d rather get extra sleep in the morning

34. Have you ever left the country? No, but that time is coming, soon I’ll have been all over the world!

35. Have you ever tried archery? Yes! Every year at summer camp for like...6-8 years? I was pretty decent, too.

36. Do you like anyone? My boyfriend and Anna Kendrick

37. Favorite swear word? FUCK

38. When do you fall asleep? After lying in bed for like, an hour

39. Do you have any scars? Yes, and let’s leave it at that

40. Sexual orientation? If I like you, I like you

41. Are you a good liar? Fuck no

42. What languages would you like to learn? I’d like to get better at ASL, and then I’d like to learn German (but I’m absolute CRAP at languages)

43. Top 10 songs? The only two that matter are Hooked On a Feeling by Blue Swede and Footloose by Kenny Loggins

44. Do you like your country?

45. Do you have friends on the web? Yeah

46. What is your personality type? The type that people eventually get sick of and leave

47. Hogwarts house? ‘Puff pride, bitch

48. Can you curl your tongue? Noooope

49. Pick one fictional character you can relate to?

50. Left or right handed? Right

51. Are you scared of spiders? Definitely not fond of them

52. Favorite food? Cheese, and then potatoes (especially cheesy potatoes!)

53. Favorite foreign food? Idk man, I just like food, I’m discovering new amazing stuff all the time

54. Are you a clean or messy person? I want to be clean but I’m too lazy and messy

55. If you could switch your gender for a day, what would you do? Be the sassiest, most fashionable, and most adorable drunk gay boy in the club (so basically be Eddie Kaspbrak)

56. What color underwear? Uhhh...commando?

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 20 minutes if I actually care, 5 if I don’t

58. Do you have much of an ego? As a Leo, you’d think so, but the truth is, NOPE

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Suck first, then bite

60. Do you talk to yourself? Who doesn’t do this at some point?

61. Do you sing to yourself? Yesss

62. Are you a good singer? I like to think so, I know I’m not terrible

63. Biggest fears? Being alone

64. Are you a gossip? Not really..?

65. Are you a grammar Nazi? I wouldn’t be if people knew how to spell and use proper punctuation, etc.

66. Do you have long or short hair? Short on one side, shorter on the other :P

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? No, I always forget at least one

68. Favorite school subject? Choir :P (until college, then my favorite class was psychology)

69. Extrovert or introvert? An extroverted introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Yes, I took classes a year-and-a-half ago and we went to Monterey bay!

71. What makes you nervous? The better question is what doesn’t make me nervous?

72. Are you scared of the dark? ...yes. Sometimes.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? I try to

74. Are you ticklish? Everywhere.

75. Have you ever started a rumor? Nope

76. Have you ever been our of your home country? Not yet, but soon

77. Have you ever drank underage? Yep, started trying things when I was 13

78. Have you ever done drugs? Yup

79. What do you fantasize about? My ships

80. How many piercings do you have? 6 lobe (3 in each ear), 2 helix (in my left ear), 1 tragus (in my right ear), and 1 nose piercing (next I’m planning to get a daith piercing, idk which side yet) (here is a chart for anyone who does not know the ear terminology)

81. Can you roll your R’s? I’ve done it 3 times in my life, all 3 were luck

82. How fast can you type? Super fucking fast, bro (and without looking at the keyboard)

83. How fast can you run? I haven’t’ run for like, 4 years, idk, but my best mile time was around 8 minutes in high school :P

84. What color is your hair? You tell me, I think it’s brown, but sometimes it looks different, like dirty blonde..?

85. What color are your eyes? Hazel :)

86. What are you allergic to? Probably dust or pollen, and my mom thinks I was allergic to our cat, but that was never looked into

87. Do you keep a journal? Tried, could never keep it up

88. Are you depressed about anything? EDIT: okay, mildly depressed, idk about what, I wish I did, but oh well, life fucking sucks that way

89. Do you like your age? ????

90. What makes you angry? Stupid drivers and people who are assholes to customer service workers

91. Do you like your own name? Uhh, it’s unique, so yeah I guess

92. Did you ever get a foreign object up your nose? Yeah, I once put a tiny plastic decorative berry up there just to see if I could, and it got stuck but I was able to get it out just before I had to go onstage for a play I was in :P

93. Do you want a boy or a girl for a child? One of each!

94. What talents do you have? If being mediocre at things still counts as talent, then I guess I can sing, play guitar, ukulele, and piano/keyboard, crochet, knit, rap, and write...but meh, I’m basically an expert amateur

95. Sun or moon?

96. How did you get your name? My parents wanted something unique, and they thought this name was elegant

97. Are you religious? Not at all

98. Have you ever been to a therapist? Yep, still seeing one now and planning on continuing in the future

99. Color of your bedspread? The one on my bed right now is red, but I also have a blue and an orange

100. Color of your room? White, but covered in posters and things

Idk who to tag, but if you want to do this, please do it, feel free! :D

Except for @killian-morelike-killingme and @textualselection, because I just feel like it xD

#maddy makes a post #100 questions #mileven-and-contemplation #can't believe I completed this but it was fun :) so here ya go

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coteriesrp · 4 years

Photo

– THIS IS A SAMPLE APPLICATION FROM KIT WITH DIZZY!

I wrote this intentionally casual so that people know they don’t have to stress too much. Yes. That’s it. Not because I hate writing applications and it was the only way I was gonna get through it. Just... Listen. We know that trying to condense your vision of a character down to a few paragraphs and some fill in the blanks isn’t really Possible. We’re just lookin’ for an introduction, and to know you care enough about joining that you’re willing to try. Stick to what’s fun for you, play around in the space, and everything will be fine.

– PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS ONLY AN EXAMPLE & ALSO THAT IT’S NOT TO BE USED AS INSPIRATION OF ANY KIND

out of character info.

ALIAS › kit

PRONOUNS › they/them

AGE › 24

TIMEZONE › gmt-5

LINES › u know that scene in the mummy w the scarabs… anything like that (idk how to word it more concisely sfdSFJKLS)

VEILS › any kind of sexual assault stuff, honestly i’d prefer nothing Too explicitly sexual In General, also animal (insects included) harm/death/etc

in character info.

CHARACTER › dizzy

GENDER & PRONOUNS › trans woman & she/her

DISCIPLINE › obfuscate

DEMEANOUR ›

A bon vivant, the epitome of talking for hours and saying nothing at all; amongst a crowd Dizzy is bubbly and annoying, over-affectionate and vapid, as likely to fade into the scenery of a party as to be the center of it — hard to say whether it’s an act, or just what happens to her in the presence of too many other voices. One on one she’s capable of toning it down, and displays a sharpness and unsurprising love of teasing… When she’s not too busy demanding attention to bother paying it.

JOINING THE COTERIE ›

Dizzy would say it was pure impulse; she abhors a social vacuum, and was lacking in friends that could be forced to put up with her. Truthfully, it may have been more strategic — and she may have had a stronger hand in creating the coterie than she likes to say. With an estranged sire drifting to the side of anarchy, one might have motivation to convince the Council of the need for another coterie of watchmen. Of course, that’s not as relevant anymore, but…

(UN)LIFE’S PHILOSOPHY ›

For Dizzy unlife hasn’t been a far cry from life. Each moment is wasted in the rabid pursuit of pleasure, it’s just that now she has a lot more moments to waste. And a lot more potential enemies looking to keep her from it.

THOUGHTS ON HUMANITY ›

Depending on her mood, this could earn you a noncommittal shrug or a five hour philosophical debate. What constitutes humanity? Are kindred really so different from them, after all? She’s never seen the embrace as quite as big a difference as some seem to, so she might have a softer spot for humans than most. Her stance tends to be that a transition doesn’t make you a different person, even if it changes your circumstances dramatically.

LIFE EVENTS › (tw; drug/addiction mention)

— Addiction, sedation, stagnation — much of Dizzy’s life has been colored the same way, her art a bright point of tangibility amidst a sea of smoke and dreams. Escapism, of any kind, was always her strongest vice. She tripped down the steps of different drugs until she found her high of choice: the euphoria of a vampire’s Kiss.

For years that’s how she lived, existing as a sweet taste on the lips of any number of immortal patrons, barely scraping together a life outside of it. Until the right man saw her for what she was (saw the artist beyond the haze), and decided to prolong her suffering.

A few years as a drip tap turned into a few decades as a ghoul, and the event I’m dancing my way around is her turning — or, really, her relationship with her sire. Dizzy has never been immune to romanticization (she was a perfect fit for clan Toreador) and so words like ‘soul mates’ and ‘true love’ weren’t far from her lips when she was finally Embraced.

— For decades it was Dizzy and her Sire against the world, but of course nothing lasts. As Dizzy adapted to life under the laws of the Camarilla, her rebellious nature grew much more subtle as a matter of survival. A bright spark faded to a dull roar, and it never occurred to her that her Sire might hate what he had turned her into.

Not until he brought in a new Childe. Peach, bright and raging against the world as Dizzy had once been, keeping up with the modern era and un-dimmed by the lack of sunlight. Dizzy watched her Sire’s attentions slip further and further from her grasp, and though she remained (barely) civil for decades, things were tense. Maybe their Sire didn’t notice, or maybe he didn’t care, but he certainly didn’t do anything to make the ‘siblings’ relationship any better.

By the time Peach (in Dizzy’s view — she’s still not actually sure how all of it went down) had finished with their sire, he had changed. Gone was the commitment to change the Camarilla from the inside out, and in its place was a brand new plan. Join the Anarchs, attack from the outside, take the direct approach —

Out of spite, Dizzy refused. She dug her heels in, burrowed further into the bureaucracy than she’d ever gone before, and shut her heart to the family she’d once had. Holed up in her studio, she barely even heard when news of her sire’s death swept through the clan. She didn’t know him anymore.

EXPANDING CONNECTIONS ›

— HAREL - Dizzy adores them, delights in nothing more than earning their grudging indulgence, and might have pulled some strings to get them more freedom under the watchful eyes of the Council. She isn’t shy about making it known that Harel is her personal favorite in any given situation, but she never gives a straight answer as to why.

— ANGEL - Angel exacerbates Dizzy’s distaste for anyone that can see through her, and their unflappable persona doesn’t give her enough purchase to manipulate. Overall, it’s an uneasy truce — she would rather keep them close, keep an eye on them, than let them go about their business where she can’t see. And, someday, she’s going to crack the code of getting an emotional response out of them. It’s a pet project of hers.

— DIVYA - The most fun toy in the group. So easy to wind up, with so many obvious buttons to press. Ultimately, Dizzy considers them a baby, is mildly protective and has high hopes for how they might develop over the course of their unlife. Never tell Divya, though, if they knew Dizzy had a soft spot it might ruin her fun.

— PEACH - Nothing turns Dizzy’s stomach or dries her mouth like Peach’s presence — if she had breath, Peach would steal it like a punch to the gut. Every time they’re forced to interact, Dizzy feels the familiar kick of jealousy and betrayal — she blames Peach for their sire abandoning her, and for his eventual final death. It’s not a grudge that Dizzy knows how to let go of.

miscellaneous info.

EXTRAS ›

i made a pinterest

also have some headcanons:

— if you let her get away with it, dizzy has the tendency to be Very physically affectionate (read: she Will drape herself over anyone that doesn’t shove her off. depending on the person she will continue to attempt the drapening even when u Do push her off)

— she’s the kind of person that values loyalty over most other things, so she can and will compromise any morals she may once have had in order to be on a favored person’s good side

— aka if a friend dislikes someone she will also dislike that person no matter how tempted she is to sleep with them

— (yes i’m talking about harel and guerra)

— her nickname was given to her by her sire, who once joked that all the mental spinning she did must make her dizzy… then just started calling her that and it stuck

— side note: she’s much better at concealing the spinning now

— or is she just better at not spinning

— the world may never know

— her favorite art form is sculpting, but she’s also fond of most types of painting and sketching

— she has not yet gotten into digital art because the change in tactile feedback freaks her out, but maybe someday

— Mayhaps she’s kept half an ear to the ground for any news of peach’s business over the years

— mayhaps i’m waiting on other people to join before working out an actual timeline so idk how long it’s been

— MAYHAPS

— yes at this point i’m just rambling bc i swear i had more to put here but listen

— swiss cheese memory

— am i supposed to be being professional on this thing or smth

— god i hope not

LAST WORD ›

hello….. it me :>

#sample.#dizzy.

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inuyomekag · 7 years

Text

Black Butler: Chapter 128

This is getting too heavy

(Link to my post for ch.127)

First, shoutout to Grell for telling us Agni’s full name! And letting us know that we have a birthday to celebrate in a couple months.

Before I jump into the good stuff, I wanted to talk about this part:

Because A) I’m in a lot of pain, and B) This scene really gives us insight into how Ciel feels about Soma and Agni.

Ciel is a damn good actor, as we know, and by what he says to Soma in this scene, it sounds like the reason he’s been pushing him and Agni away since he met them is not because he dislikes them and doesn’t want them around, but because he’s been trying to prevent them from getting too wrapped up in his business and getting hurt in the crossfire (which, lo and behold, is exactly what just happened). Now we know, more or less, that Ciel really does/did care about Soma and Agni.

And those last two panels?^ This kid, this literal child, is physically holding himself back from crying because he thinks he has to act strong 24/7. He pulls himself together right after this and slips right back into the role of the “Queen’s Watchdog.”

Can I just take a moment to say how much I love Ciel Phantomhive? Because I do, I love Ciel Phantomhive.

Okay now I’ll get to the good shit.

I’m gonna talk about the 2CT a lot, so if you don’t like that theory you may want to proceed with caution. I’ve been trying not to put too much weight on the Twin Ciel theory, even in regards to the events of the recent chapters, because it’s always been a pretty far-fetched theory that fans have been developing for quite a while now and I don’t want to rely on it being true. That’s why I always try to think of other possibilities, buts its honestly getting harder and harder to consider other theories.

The second Soma sees Ciel, he slaps him across the face. We know he would never lay a hand on Ciel without a good reason, and I think believing Ciel had a hand in Agni’s murder constitutes as a good reason. However, it might be that whatever was on the paper that Agni found in the fireplace has something on it that also warrants Ciel getting slapped. But I feel like it’s important that this page gives focus to the moment Soma sees Ciel’s face.

So either Soma slapped him A) because of what’s on the paper from the fireplace, or B) because he thought the person with the gun was Ciel.

(btw, if the twin was involved, he would be the one who held the gun to Soma’s head. Not the one with the knives who killed Agni. They’re not the same person.)

Next is the WHO STOLE THE CANDY FROM MY TUMMY scene.

Ciel is absolutely fucking terrified.

He obviously knows what those words mean and specifically associates them with something/someone.

(I’m about to go pretty hard with the Twin Theory for a bit, brace yourselves...)

(I wouldn’t have thought of this part on my own) I’ve seen people saying that back when Ciel and his twin (who may or may not exist) were kidnapped, the brother had the blue-diamond family ring, (I’m thinking it was given to him because he was named as the heir to the family) and he swallowed it so that the kidnappers couldn’t steal it. Then when Sebastian got Ciel out of the cage, and the twin had just been killed, Ciel went and cut his brother’s body open to get the ring back (or more likely had Sebastian do it) because he needed it to prove that he was the heir to the Phantomhive family. This would explain how Ciel had the ring immediately after he escaped, because I doubt the cult would have let him keep it and I’ve always wondered how he got the ring back. (I would love to credit whoever thought of this but I can’t actually remember where I read this theory...)

This would be what the writing on the wall is referring to. Sebastian doesn’t seem to understand what the words mean, even though he was, presumably, there for the event that the writing refers to. The way it’s worded is probably something that only Ciel and his brother would understand. Also, the panel on the right in the screenshot above is a very clear shot of Ciel’s hands and the ring on his finger. I just feel like that image of the ring was deliberate.

Outside of the twin theory, I can’t really think of what this could mean, or what would have Ciel so shook (I told you, it’s getting hard to think of anything else!). It’s entirely possible that something completely different will be revealed about Ciel’s past that we don’t know anything about yet. Whether it’s the existence of the twin or not, its obvious that there’s something important we don’t know about Ciel’s past.

The dialogue in the last scene was kinda weird lol, I had to read it twice to get what happened (the first time I read it I thought the paper revealed something bad that Seb had done).

When Ciel said this I think he was referring to when Seb said that the papers fell out of Soma’s hand.

Kinda like Ciel wanted Seb to be lying, because he really didn’t want those papers to have been in Soma’s hand. (Unless Ciel is saying that, in which case I’m confused. The placement of the speech bubbles is kinda vague)

(Pause to admire Sebby’s face)

He seems to understand why Ciel doesn’t want Soma to have those papers, which is why he says he’s regrettably not lying.

Which leaves the kid looking the shookest I’ve ever seen him. So we know that whatever information is revealed from those scraps of paper is like....a huge deal.

(More) About the Twin Theory:

I think if this whole thing is revealed to be true, the person/thing walking around wearing the twin’s face and body is just a walking corpse that our old friend Undertaker (who has been suspiciously absent lately) has created. idk for what purpose...I still believe that at least a part of his plan is to save Ciel from the contract, but maybe his bigger goal is making sure the Phantomhive family doesn’t end with Ciel, so he’s getting desperate and re-animating the dead brother. (a very loose theory...it’s kinda early to think about this lol)

OH and I wanted to mention Lizzy in relation to the 2CT. I realized that if the twin is hanging around with the Blue Sect, then Lizzy might have met him and found out through him that our “Ciel” isn’t actually Ciel, and that Ciel died but is kinda alive again now.....and that whole confusing situation. That would explain her weird behavior and why she keeps running back to the Blue Sect.

So in conclusion, everything is a mess, Sebastian is really beautiful,

and I don’t think Ciel is about to have a very happy birthday in a couple weeks.

#feel free to message me with your thoughts!#mine #black butler #BB updates #manga updates #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #prince soma #kuroshitsuji

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canaryatlaw · 7 years

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Today was......I don't know. It was emotional. Which I guess shouldn't be surprising given its events, but it's never been like this on this case before, at the other hearings. It was just all so real today. But, I'll start from the beginning. I fucked up walking up somehow, I don't even remember how because I was still half asleep, but I got a text off to my supervisor saying I'd be in at 11 and that was fine since we didn't have any morning obligations. I'm never happy when I do things like that because it makes me feel lazy and unmotivated, but oh well. I got to work at 11 and did some more prison call listening (and candy crush playing) which didn't reveal anything all that rich. Idk if I told you, there was one call from the other day that was like the motherlode, they were insulting everyone in the courtroom and saying they should be prosecuted for what they've done and how the GAL has it out for the caseworker and just all of these absolutely ridiculous statements that I couldn't even write down fast enough, so I think that'll be plenty. We were scheduled for 1:30 for our case to come back up but their courtroom was running late so I kept popping into my former boss' office to see if he was up here yet haha, around 12:45 he arrived and not too long the foster parents were there and we were ready to go. The proceedings were.....interesting. So it's the second phase of the termination trial, where the subject is only the best interest of the children, not the parents constitutional right to parent or whatever. The state and GAL (us) had already rested, so it was just time for the 3 defense attorneys to put up their cases, which of course got hectic. Dad #1, who wasn't involved in "the incident" but is just a gang member who deals drugs, went first, so he testified about loving his kids and such and then they had his mother and his sister testify as to how they had rented a house where they could all live if they let the kids return home to them, but like, the dad was already found depraved because of his felony convictions, plus he's done zero services, so that's going be a stretch. I do genuinely have empathy for the family members because they haven't done anything wrong here, but again, this is about the best interest of the children, not the family members. So then dad #2 went, which was probably the most interesting point. First she had the dad's grandma testify with a Spanish interpreter, I guess just about how she wanted her great grandkids in her life and how close their family is and all that. There was a great moment on cross when she said something about telling the dad they didn't like his "girlfriend" and the ASA was like REALLY LETS EXPLORE THIS and I had to cover my smirk, which is really something I need to get better at because I get far too amused during court proceedings. The real show through was with the letter dad #2 wanted admitted to the judge but we wouldn't stipulate to foundation, so the dad (when I'm talking about this dad, remember he's actually a 17/18 year old) had to get on the stand to establish he wrote the letter and such, and then of course it was time for cross and we wanted to get into the contents of the letter, but the judge kept the scope pretty limited, but that's TBC....I don't think moms attorney actually called any witnesses, she just admitted some certificates of classes mom had completed is jail. I mean, there's really no valid argument she could've made there given the circumstances. Anyone they put on the stand could be massively screwed on cross. So then she rested and there gets to be "rebuttal" and we were kind of colluding with the ASA and we decided to call dad 2 as our witness and ask about the letter which were are allowed to do, though his lawyer objected since the GAL doesn't have the burden of proof they shouldn't be able to do rebuttal, but the judge overruled that. So they got into the letter and really grilled him on it, a lot of it was argumentative by nature cuz he's like "I'm a changed man since I've seen my children born" so the question is "so before this you didn't know it was wrong to starve a 4 year old to death?" Part of the reason we called him though instead of the state is because then technically the state gets to cross and has a better scope. I was watching his attorney while the questioning was happening and it started to look like she was maybe giving him cues for answers??? Like I couldn't tell if she was just kind of nodding along in solidarity or cueing him when to say yes, so I motion for the ASA and tell him and we both just end up looking at her for the rest of the questioning. It was probably nothing, or if anything harmless, but I felt kind of proud of myself for noticing it and bringing attention t it, lol. The letter started with him saying "first I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything" and the ASA just stood up and was like "so what are you sorry for?" And he goes to answer but then his lawyer jumps up and is like MY CLIENT IS ASSERTING HIS FIFTH AMENDMENT RIGHT AGAINST SELF INCRIMINATION AND REFUSES TO ANSWER so the judge just asked him are you going to take your attorneys advice? And he said yes and didn't answer and it was epic because that was EXACTLY what we wanted to happen because it makes him look guilty as sin, and it's something the finder of fact is allowed to draw negative inferences from. So that was great. Then it was just closing arguments, and things got heavy. State went first of course, and laid out the trauma these kids have experienced and how they now have permanency in each of their foster homes and it was in their best interest to have their parental rights terminated. So then we went. Since our clients are the kids of course we talked more about them, and my former boss was talking about what the siblings said in the VSI's about how they lived in the home with the corpse of their dead sibling for days while having to listen to the mom and boyfriend talk about ways to dispose of the body, including, which I hadn't heard up until this point, knocking his teeth out with a baseball bat so they couldn't identify him by dental records. And for whatever reason, that fact was my tipping point. I could feel my heart just sinking in my chest and I closed my eyes for a few seconds to try and compose myself. And I managed to do so for when I had to. The defense closing arguments were like- dad #1- well he wasn't involved in killing the kid and he has good family support, dad #2 cited some specific passages of the juvenile court act about culture and tradition and then just said to consider the age of her client and how is rehabilitatable. I think moms attorney just adopted their argument about culture and stuff and that was pretty much it. At the start the judge told us he wasn't gonna give a ruling today, he'd take it under advisement and return for a ruling on another date. So we got another date, June 22nd (of course over a month away). I can't blame him though, because this is such a high profile case he has to make sure he gets everything right because no matter what this case will be appealed and he has to do everything he possibly can to make sure that doesn't happen. We might actually get a written opinion out of it, which I'd be super interested to read (we almost never get written opinions out of trial courts). But yeah, that about ended the day. Bus home, made dinner quickly and accidentally melted part of the plastic handle of the rubber spatula by leaving it in the pan and having it rest on the side....oops. At least it was minor. And then it was time to watch the flash. Spoilers ahead, obviously. I think I had actually managed to not get myself too worked up about Snart returning and was going into it with the mindset that I may not get what I want here, so I think that made the overall actions, although still disappointing, at least more bearable. But yes, I'm disappointed that they didn't take this as an opportunity to bring him back to life when they could've easily worked it into the storyline. There was a moment, when Len was trapped in with King shark and Barry was on the other side of the door I was like OH SHIT because the timeline damage if Len got killed right there instead of the oculus.....??????? Like holy fuck, that could've gone in so many directions. But that was quickly handled so crisis averted. I did very much enjoy captain cold in the episode, he was at top snark level and pretty much everything he did was fantastic. On the rest of the episode, well it felt extremely weak to me for Lyla to be like "no" upfront and then after Barry fucking breaks into ARGUS and like potentially compromised national security she was like "oh take it because it's true love!"......I was just like, really? That was the best you could do? Just...ugh. Return Len to Siberia, as has been noted is not a location that we know of the legends visiting yet, was interesting, but I feel like this is more them retconning and being lazy in not exactly wanting to establish when during season 1 of LOT did they grab him from rather than we're going to go to Siberia in 1892 with Len on the waverider in the future. I would love to be proven wrong there, though. The ending...I wasn't expecting them to go as far as they did because they still need a fucking season finale, but they did go there and I'm sorry, I don't believe for two seconds that Iris is actually "dead" and the fucking season finale is just them mourning. Like, no. I've never for a second believed they were actually going to kill off Iris, and that's only gotten stronger as the season goes on. That being said I have no idea how they're gonna fix this next episode, but they've come up with enough creative/ridiculous solutions to seemingly impossible problems before so I'm sure they'll figure something out. I could probably keep going but for times sake I'll move on because PRISON BREAK. Just yes, all the Wentworth Miller on my tv screen <3 and Michael and Sara reunited and it was the most precious thing ever and everything I could've dreamed of and then FUCKING HANK HAS TO SHOW UP AND RUIN EVERYTHING WHEN I TOLD YOU ALL HE WAS A BAD EGG TO BEGIN WITH. FUCKING HANK. (If you're really confused right now, just know that I refuse to refer to Jacob by his actual character name because I hate him too much). It was a good twist though, but now I'm like ahhhh for Michael Jr and Sara's safety as this fucking nut job is running around and of course Linc and Michael and crew have to find their way back into the US, so that'll bring all sorts of new adventures. So that was good. I didn't do much of substance after that, so I think I'm gonna call it here and go to bed because it's really late and I have to actually force my ass out of bed at 7 am. So goodnight babes. Stay sweet.

#daily journal #May 2017 #Rachel watches the flash #Rachel watches prison break

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dyed-red · 3 years

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Get to Know Me

I was tagged by the loveliest @prince-of-elsinore for this get to know me tag game :) I’m going to mostly answer these questions as being about this blog, even though it’s a sideblog. For the folks I tagged, there’s a clean version of the questions below the cut if you’d like to answer!

1. why did you choose your url?

I have a deep fondness for the song There Goes the Neighbourhood by Sheryl Crow

2. any sideblogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

This is a sideblog :D I started it first as a place to dump posts that might be more controversial so I could get into tumblr arguments without alienating or exhausting a bunch of followers, back when I was a bit more self-conscious. I barely used it for years until I tripped head-first (back?) into the SPN fandom and was using it as a place to drop a ton of wincest posts as fic-inspo. Eventually it started to take on a bit of it’s own identity

@coldtomyflash is my sideblog for DCTV / arrowverse on the CW. It was my first sideblog and I created it so that my main didn’t become completely overrun with coldflash (the flash / captain cold) when that became my hyperfixation several years ago. still post from time to time and there’s an AO3 pseud with all my coldflash writing that is predominately connected to that blog. at some point i’m gonna join a new fandom and have to decide which pseud to post under...

@forthebothofus is a new and not-much-used sideblog I parked the url for in case I ended up getting really into Walker (CW). I’ve reblogged some stuff but I only have one foot in that content right now so idk where it will go, if anywhere.

@phynali is my main

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

since sometime in 2012, if not a bit earlier

4. do you have a queue tag?

not on here that i can recall (i tag very sporadically on here? it’s still partly a place for me to dump every SPN post i think looks pretty) but on @phynali it’s #thank queue for coming

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

i explained why i started this sideblog up there, so to explain why i joined / started @phynali: it was for fandom. livejournal content was drying up and i couldn’t find new dedicated forums or communities, but i started noticing people link their tumblrs on AO3. i found out an irl friend who wrote fic had a tumblr so I asked her to show me the ropes

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

the first theme i setup for this sideblog was all winter imagery, maybe because of my love for captain cold or maybe because it was mid-winter in canada when i set it up (who can say). i haven’t changed the image because i’m both lazy and resistant to change

7. why did you choose your header?

brb checking what my current header is because i think i actually did change it recently -

ahhh right okay so there’s this sort of neon aesthetic i’m into related to an original writing project of mine called Rest for the Wicked and this is one of the images i dragged up for vibe i’m going for with one of the characters

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

on this blog? i honestly don’t know, i mostly reblog and add commentary so tracking notes on original posts doesn’t mean much. on @phynali i know that my post arguing against exclusionary bullshit when the ace discourse was in its heyday on here got 10k notes in the space of a day. i can’t claim all the notes though; i was arguing against the OP because she was spewing pastel-coloured bullshit, and the post blew up because because my friend moderated a well-followed discourse blog and reblogged my argumentative reply.

related to SPN, my post with the most notes is likely my one about Sam and bodily autonomy

9. how many mutuals do you have?

do... do people count??? i have no idea?

10. how many followers do you have?

on which blog...? @phynali has 1100+ but this blog has under 30, and tbh I’m kinda shocked it has any, given the lack of original posts or anything approaching a tag system. it’s all added commentary and reblogged art and somehow y’all are into that and i am delighted

11. how many people do you follow?

121 and it’s. too many. just. too many. i need to cut that down. i try to keep it under 100 and this is the most i’ve ever followed.

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

on @phynali yes, numerous times, mostly about my friend being the zodiac killer

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

there used to be days where i was on all day every day with it the background. now i’m mentally healthier and my adhd is medicated and being treated so i have a bit more control over my social media usage. i’d say i’m on most days 1-2 times (morning and evening), but whether i just pop in to check if i have messages or whether i stick around and scroll varies depending on what else i’m doing that day.

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

hahahahahahahahahahahha -

uhm. yes. note what this sideblog was made for in the first place: an easier space to argue with people (ironic that it’s the only blog i’ve ever had where i haven’t got into an argument with someone).

i’m a scrappy little shit and at any given time you can assume i’m actively restraining myself from getting into unnecessary internet arguments. i literally got off facebook because i got a reputation for take-down arguments in the comments of my friend’s posts, back in like 2010.

i don’t always win, but i either learn something, change my mind, and concede, or else i’m going to say i won because i’m stubborn like that

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

utter garbage. i hate guilt appeals. the surefire way to get me to not do something is to try and guilt me. i will bite off my nose to spite my face before i allow someone to guilt-trip me

16. do you like tag games?

i do! they’re often fun :)

17. do you like ask games?

i also do! assuming we mean the ask lists you can reblog, that is. except they’re often very horny, romantic, or deeply personal? or maybe it’s just that the people i follow reblog those ones the most frequently. either way i don’t reblog them much because i’m seldom interested in the questions listed

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i’ve been here near a decade and still don’t know what constitutes fame on this website. there’s like 5 blogs i think of as tumblr famous whereas the rest of us are just chilling in this amorphous space.

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

a crush-crush? no. a writer-crush? @lovetincture‘s writing is so beautiful i want to drown myself in it and they’re a good part of the reason i dipped my toe onto twitter (at which point my adhd promptly sucked me in because wow that website is constant stimulation just like this one). so i guess that counts?

20. tags?

if these folks are interested (no pressure though ofc): i know you already tagged @fallcolorspringrapid so how about @lovetincture, @redmyeyes (who recently posted this fic y’all should go read), and @digitalmeowmix :)

clean copy of questions to copy/paste below the cut

clean copy:

1. why did you choose your url?

2. any sideblogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

4. do you have a queue tag?

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

7. why did you choose your header?

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

9. how many mutuals do you have?

10. how many followers do you have?

11. how many people do you follow?

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

15. how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

16. do you like tag games?

17. do you like ask games?

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

20. tags?

#ask games #about me #tagged for me

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esfor-dazrumi-18 · 5 years

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findings

y’know it says a lot when it tries so hard to look like fucking twitter and the like where it’s all tiny and stuff

moment you join too you’re forced to pick tags so they can cater to ya i just picked the obvious shit

tbh i don’t like being tracked but i got shit to say so i’ll get on with it.

i don’t follow the rules other people set out, i make my own, so don’t whine this is long or shit, y’all learn to read in school for a reason, bookmark it or something, heck, read and then stop, ain’t my fault it’s your own disinterest

was following this guy named bogor. been helping out some girl with her problems, various things on the net she can’t confront due to various issues, associations, internets a nasty place yo so me and a few friends go around doing the work and the eyes for em

we’re not on the internet much, we’re just people with a close attachment to each other, so dont expect to see all your picture pic stuff, that ain’t our thing here, i just looked up blogging sites n tumblr was in the list so i’ll treat it as that

despite we aren’t on the internet much, we got a basic grasp how these things go.

so then

my situation, as esfor, is, wow, hecked up. Didn’t realise someone else here chose the same name oh well that’s what i did for google. but never mind. Me and a friend, puni, who’s looking up places like gbatemp are searchin the web all fine n dandy and then I get asked by our girl ‘there’s this suspicious forum can u look into it’

so puni goes into this forum and fucks up first impressions, so then i go in. there’s a guy named bogor who runs the place and holy fuck he’s nuts. like not even slightly, this dude’s inferior complex is bigger than you’ll ever know

so the reason we were asked to inspect some suspicious looking forum was because this concerns her finances. It runs on the assumption that this program this girl’s mum has signed up to is a scam, been running for 20 years with slow increments to givin cash. Loads of cash, sounds like blatant scam material, but the site’s materials are a decade old, and this guy seems hell bent on controlling that material as well.

Finances ain’t a joke, neither are scams. So as a friend i decide to be cover. puni fucked up the first impressions, indicating she wasn’t gonna lurk so I had to take measures. some other guy comes in who we don’t know, and after many logic tossups with admittedly little material on my end, this guy takes drastic measures threatening his family, and i don’t agree with the threatening the family bit, but i agree with the post in an admittedly vague way, and then he bans both our asses.

So then I can’t speak, puni and peli (another dude, more rude than me or puni if i’m being honest) make an account called muzifa to lurk. this time, we say nothing until yesterday

this suspicious forum doesn’t attract much activity, there’s only a few hundred members on the forum, suspiciously, though, they don’t get active on the site much. ever since both of us got suspended, your email gets verified, which is fine, our emails are gibberish anyway irrelevant to the names we choose (except the one on this site), but yea, despite this, there’s like 1 or 2 members that even speak at that. the forum’s running in mybb.

which is obvious, i lurk another forum infrequently which uses the exact same format so i’m not particularly unknown

when i say i’m not in the internet that’s more a lie. i have twitter, i have nowhere else though. i lurk more quiet places. no facebook, no insta, no shit. just twitter to converse about problems with the other dudes (or girls in the cases of our friend and puni), so i know this shit, i just don’t take myself to care about much of the spammy promote-yourself shit.

basically, the gist of the forum is this program is run by a guy named mike, who’s supposedly an immigrant as we’ve half-learned, and yo, he posts updates every 2 weeks basically drunk. this bogor bitch posts said updates in text on the forum, and reacts to em callin mike names and shit, and he expects everyone to go along with it. puni on muzifa’s account got too heated, because bogor went all authoritarian on him too, but here’s the logic tho

mike got contacted in one of these updates and he posted the email addresses of all involved. some of these emails mention a jeff.

so there’s a whole team behind this scam... huh interesting a whole team

yet bogor goes ‘there’s no team, just mike’ which dang dun lines up with the suspicions from our source. sure, teams can be involved in scams, no denying there. but use your words: a team is comprised of more than one person. so if bogor claims to have inside info, how come he’s sure there’s no ‘team’ if there’s a jeff? is jeff some personality? but then why’re the emails mentioning jeff and mike as if they’re separate?

and mike’s drunk updates refer to himself as mike at the end of every one. if he wanted to fake out by being jeff, he’d be jeff. so if he’s getting shit from jeff, who’s a different person, ergo, there’s a team. 2 people sure, but that’s still a team. there’s no i in team.

there isn’t a response to this, and as well, this lot also fuck up forum formatting because usually on these forums there’s tags to tell you when the reply ends if you’re responding to a quoted post, that’s how the text after isn’t stuck in the blob, but this lot like the 40 yr olds they are continue writing in this field. i’m not that old i can’t clearly see when the field ends

so bogus then bands muzifa with warnings that as peli tells us he’s blocked from seeing because the site totally blocks him from doing anything, apparently reading your own private messages is a warning. puni then goes back with her permanent account, with words from me in twitter as to what constitutes a response, and despite this, even she’s blocked, for supposedly 2 weeks. peli gets on with a different email, but the account is blocked instantly. so it’s not even a matter of 2 weeks, peli was blocked on sight.

so why care so much about an admin on a suspicious site, why not just leave it alone?

well first up, this scam hasn’t coughed itself up so the site has some merit

we received some emails pointing to two instances happening at once. the one with mike in charge, and one suspiciously pointing to bogor (including a recent update from mike himself claiming bogor is behind the crappy shit), along with a gmail account called ‘vsb-trust’ that supposedly said payment is happening, but only if $200 per member were sent. Since the girl involved in this is young, that’s $400.

we also found in this decade old site that’s suspiciously not on the frontloaded site he keeps pointing to (bogor loves to say google looking his name only results in scams, but all of them are a decade-old or dead in the case of the old forum), a letter containing something from the authority with some bogus claim he got evidence they don’t have

it’s like if he were being honest he’d have sent it right then and now why put this out to the publi-

oh right

he then asks for 50 grand from everyone to give this evidence to the authority.

Suspiciously in this forum, the one where he asked 200 from everyone also is never mentioned, despite it, y’know, supposedly being under mike’s name.

even though it ain’t according to these old emails

so basically both are scams and i’d like if we could change google’s history so we ain’t painting it as so one-sided

what the fuck 50 grand to send evidence about a criminal like fuckin wow i’m pretty sure your singaporean woman had better things to do than entertain a fuckin coward

because it’s obvious, set up a forum that really should’ve been a blog (he had no money for a blog), people join to echo chamber (just like actual scams, the replies usually aren’t real especially if they’re a pic), and then they lure u in, simple as that

because we try arguing with logic against the points, not that we dont agree, just the logic’s all fucked up, but nah, heck it

idk what the fuck to do with this tumblr now i think imma chill it

but i’ll still be spittin on tumblr

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itsthefishdoctor-blog · 7 years

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Bet you can’t guess what this is about #NastyWoman

I thought I’d start this very overdue blog talking about the thing on everyone’s mind: the Super Bowl.

Lol jk.

So it’s block weekend and I have way more pressing things to do than write a blog. I really, really should have been studying instead of sitting here typing this post. I was going to wait until after my exam tomorrow but I’ve honestly been too worked up all weekend and there was no way I was going to make it through the rest of the day without saying something about the women’s march on washington.

Before I even get started on what’s going on now, I think it’s important to have quick recap/history lesson so we’re all on the same page here.

I’m going old school here and starting with a brief recap of The Constitution, ya know, that super old document our President just swore to “preserve, uphold, and protect”. In case you had forgotten or idk, never learned it, our constitution has a nifty first amendment stating: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.” That is literally the first amendment. Right there at the top. Just a friendly reminder of that stuff you learned in high school government class that everyone seems to now have an issue with.

Onto the next history topic. Marches on Washington date as far back 1894 beginning with a march literally from Ohio (you go boys) for workers rights. The more notable marches include the women’s suffrage march in 1913, the Klu Klux Klan march in 1925 (yea, that happened), and the march on Washington for Jobs and Freedom in 1963 (more affectionately known as the Civil Rights March). While each of those three marches deserve some recognition for various reasons, I’m gonna talk about the Civil Rights march. This is where MLK Jr. gave his famous “I Have a Dream” speech. This is where “10 demands” were made calling for equality in employment, wages, and education. This is where the country came together giving, a face to injustice, racism, and division. This is the march that showed the power of peaceful demonstration and unity. Fast forward 50 or so years and hundred of thousands of women have gathered in Washington D.C. (And other major cities across the globe) to peacefully protest. To stand together, united in our outrage, our embarrassment, our fear. Many people are, again, calling them crybabies or sore losers. Many people think they’re are being dramatic and have no cause to protest. Many people don’t think protesting serves a point. I hope some of those people are reading this because honestly, I want you to hear this and I want to hear your reply because I want to understand. I want to understand how you don’t understand this march. I want to understand how you can mock and belittle these hundreds of thousands of women standing up for what they believe in. I want to understand how you can see something like this and not even try to understand what it must have taken for so many women to be a part of it. I want to understand how you don’t understand, really I do. I wish I didn’t understand. I wish I didn’t feel the same thing these women do or could stop myself from empathizing with the other groups of people they march for. I wish my privilege of being a white, upper-class woman made me oblivious to the injustices faced by so many in our country. But I do understand, because it doesn’t. Donald Trump is the president of the United States. This is a fact. He is the president of my country, a country I am so honored and proud to belong to. I, and the majority of the country, am not happy about this fact. I am not unhappy because he is a Republican. I am not unhappy because Hilary Clinton lost. I am unhappy because this man is not MY president. I get how this is a hard statement for people to swallow. Really, truly I do. When I first heard it, I was a little put off by it as well because, well, he is the president. And even though he is a master at denying facts, I can appreciate that a fact is a fact. But even though he is THE president, I do not have to claim him as mine. He does not belong to me and he sure as hell does not represent me. I’d like to think he doesn’t represent most of us, even people who voted for him. I’d like to believe MY country does not relate to a LYING, racist, homophobic, ignorant, narcissistic, deceitful, close-minded, accused sex offender. But ya’ll really are making it hard. I get why some of you felt like you had to vote for him. I get how you felt like you had no choice to look past those qualities he embodies and chose to make him president. I don’t understand how you of all people aren’t standing out there with these women or, even worse, are criticizing them for criticizing him. And maybe you don’t fully understand the point of the protest. I’ve actually seen a couple of people who genuinely seem to be trying to understand what the goal of these women is so I’ll address that now. First off, they aren’t trying to get Trump removed from office. Seriously. Even if that was possible by a simple march, no one wants to get stuck with Mike freaking Pence as our president. They aren’t trying to demand “special privileges” or “throw a tantrum” because they didn’t get what they wanted. Hundreds of thousands of women all over the world did not give up their precious time just to throw a damn fit. Come on guys. These women are marching as a statement to the new president and to the world. They are marching for their rights and the rights of their daughters and minorities, and the LGBTQ community, and immigrants, and every other group of people who Donald Trump has at some point in time been made to feel less human and less important. They are marching to show that no matter who lives in the white house, our country will not stay silent to injustice, inequality, and hate. We will not allow anyone to take away rights from our fellow citizens. We will not allow rape culture and sexual assault to be normalized and accepted. We will not allow racism and xenophobia to be a part of our society. We will not allow the values that President Trump has exhibited to be the culture of our country. We will not allow anyone, including President Trump, to silence us. And we will absolutely not allow the world to ignore the already great nation we are so lucky to live in. I am so proud of these women. I wish I could be there to join their force but am so thrilled to watch this historic and powerful event unfold. I am so lucky to belong to a generation of such bad-ass women who refuse to be ignored. It is such an honor to live in a country where we are guaranteed the freedom to peacefully assemble and make our voices, our concerns heard. So to all my fellow nasty women and their supporters, THANK YOU. Thank you for standing up for my right to my body, for my children’s right to love whoever the hell they want, for my friends’ of any ethnicity and their right to feel safe and valued. Thank you for not forcing those less financially privileged from choosing whether to have a lump in their breast examined or feed their family for a week. Thank you for demanding that my work be just as valuable and well-compensated as my male co-workers. Thank you for showing future generations of women that they are beautiful and important no matter what size they wear. Thank you for showing the world that no man has the right to touch any woman without her consent. Thank you for being an inspiration in a time where so many of us feel so little hope. To those of you who are rolling your eyes at these protests and belittling these women, I also want to thank you. It is because of people like you that this march even existed and this will certainly be an event that history will applaud. Its definitely one I’m so proud to witness. I also hope at some point you can understand why this is necessary. I hope you can understand that these women are fighting for your right to be either pro-life or pro-choice, fighting for your right to make decisions about your own body. I hope you never need to utilized Planned Parenthood’s services and are never forced to deal with an unplanned pregnancy. I hope you one day understand that demanding that women make as much money as their male counterparts is nothing but common sense. I hope you understand the irony of taxing feminine hygiene products because they aren’t a medication but not drugs like Viagra, Rogaine, or Testosterone. I hope you never fall in love with someone of the same sex and are told you can’t marry them. I hope your religion always stays in the majority and is never the one being told to sign up for registries. I hope you never feel persecuted for your race, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. I hope you understand how blessed you must be to not feel these inequalities on a personal level. I also want you to understand that this is what protests are for. The men who founded our country did so because they were unhappy with their leadership. They made this a country founded on freedom and justice and guaranteed everyone of us the right to criticize our government peacefully; exactly as these women are doing. This is their right and it is a right that has been exercised before to produce great change in our nation. Great change is about to unfold. No one is rooting for President Trump more than me. I am rooting for my country. I am rooting for the rights of every single citizen, even those who didn’t vote the same way as me. That is the beauty of our country. This march is the beauty of our country. Equal rights is the beauty of our country. Donald Trump will not decide our America for the next four years. No matter what policies he implements or ridiculous things he says, he will never be a representation of our United States. It’s up to us to show our children, our sisters, our brothers, our friends, our world that we are not Donald Trump. We are stronger together y'all, we have always been stronger together and we never needed Hillary in office for that to be true. We are one nation and we have to take care of each other. We have to stand up for each other. We have to demand that everyone be treated fairly. We have to protect our freedoms and show the world that America has always been, and will always be the greatest nation in the world. I hope there are so many more marches to come. I hope there are so many different people we get to celebrate and support. I hope everyone gets to exercise their freedoms and stand up for those who need it. I hope this election has inspired people like it has inspired me. I hope there’s a whole generation inspired to be the type of nasty women who know they can do anything they want, even if that’s to run for president. “Here’s to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.”

#strongwomen #nastywoman #strongertogether #equality #equal rights

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canaryatlaw · 7 years

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So today was interesting. Overall better than the rest of this week, though I probably couldn't point you to any specific factors there. I guess I just mentally felt better so things followed that. Morning was a bit of a lol, my alarm goes off at 7, I turn it off and pick up my phone, then close my eyes for a few seconds. When I open my eyes, my phone now reads 7:40. What the fuck??? Like okay, it wouldn't be the first time I've over slept an alarm, but doing it just like that was weird. Thankfully it left me just enough time to get to work mostly on time if I ubered instead of took public transit, so I did a mostly normal morning routine and then ubered to work, getting there at 9:05 so that's enough for me to call it a win, if an accidental one. So for the morning I did some of my paperwork setting up the timeline from the other day, and about mid-morning I think I popped over to see if our tech guy was in and he was, so I let him know that I still couldn't get the prison calls to play on my computer which I felt bad about because they'd already like, switched out a computer and everything to make this work haha. But he was like nah it's cool, imma call my supervisor and we'll take care of this. And a little while later they came and did something (while I sat on the chair on the other side of my desk and scrolled through Facebook on my phone) and pretty soon they had it up and working. Okay, I forget if I provided any context for this when I first mentioned them, but I don't think I did so I'll give some here. To my understanding, we have recordings of prison phone calls from a man and the mother of his daughter, who is in DCFS custody. I'm not totally sure here, but I think he might've been in prison for some sort of child abuse (I don't think it was sexual, probably aggravated battery to a child). But basically they want to argue in court that mom is gonna get back together with dad when he gets out which would put their daughter in danger and they shouldn't regain custody, so the attorney wanted me to go through the phone calls between the two of them to see if there was any talk about getting back together or anything about their daughter specifically, them trying to get her back. So I set off with 530 audio recordings, most of them listed under "time limit exceeded" for reason of termination, which means they were 30 minutes long. WOAHBOY. So the first few I listened to were in the early days of his prison sentence and they had lots of good stuff for me to write down, but they started getting more monotonous so I like, checked my email and did some other random shit while still listening (I didn't read any fic, because I knew if I did that I probably wouldn't N able to focus on the calls). Soon enough I switch over to the more recent calls (so switch from August 2016 to March 2017) and suddenly there's a much different tone. The first one had them arguing over the fact that he said he'd call her right at 8:45 and he called her at 8:46, which I was laughing at pretty hard. Fun little prison break reference here, but the prison is called "Big Muddy River Correctional Center" located in Illinois, which of course isn't too far off from "Fox River Correctional Center (or facility?)" also fictionally in Illinois. So that made me smirk a little. So I kept listening, and then they decided to have phone sex, and I was very thankful for the fast forward button because having to listen to that I'm pretty sure is a violation of my 8th amendment constitutional right against cruel and unusual punishment. Lol. But for the most of the afternoon I just let the conversations play (I had headphones in so they weren't being broadcasted to the whole office) and noted when they said something relevant. For the record, they didn't need to talk about getting back together because OH, THEY'RE TOGETHER, and there was plenty of mentions of "getting their daughter back" (smh). So then I was just left to marvel at the strange range of tasks my job has me carrying out, lol. But anyway. My physical therapy options were pretty limited this week since I could only come after work and my normal guy is in Europe, and despite being there yesterday the only other appointment I could get this week was for tonight at 6, and of course I get off of work at 5. I figured if I ubered though I could probably make it with enough time to run to my apartment and get changed from my suit into physical therapy appropriate clothing, lol, however, my uber driver didn't take the best route and we got caught in traffic and I didn't end up getting to PT until 6:20 and I was such not a happy camper because if you pay attention on here at all, you know being late is my biggest pet peeve possible. It was okay though, it was just a little shorter of a session. Not a big deal. Now we just know 6 pm appointments are a no-go, lol. The girl I worked with was fine, I like my regular guy so I was kind of meh about working with other people but she was nice enough and she did a pretty good job, so that's good. When I finished there I walked back home and ate some dinner- I forget if I ever discussed my weird eating issue I've developed lately on here so I'm just gonna talk about it now. For weeks now, no matter what my big weekend meal I use for leftovers throughout the week is, when it comes to eating those leftovers it feels like I have to shove the food into my mouth. And then I get stuck in the whole quandary of "oh well I should eat it anyway because it's healthy" ("healthy") and no, don't force yourself to eat something you don't want to, but obviously a ton of meals I make have been going to waste because of this and I have no idea what to do about it. This week I was gonna try to really test it because I did my creamy Parmesan chicken pasta (I definitely mentioned that on here recently, but I don't remember the rest of the context) which is like phenomenal and I'd see if I had an issue with that, and yupp, when it came down to eating the chicken it felt like shoving concrete in my mouth. This is a totally new and out of nowhere development?? Like this has never been an issue before. And it's not just chicken, because I've tried other meats and it's the same thing (I can have like, two slices of turkey on a mini sandwich, but that's really nothing). And I just don't know what to do about this because I feel like I started the whole weekend meal thing because I wanted to make sure I was getting enough protein in my diet, because I wasn't really eating meat unless I was intentional about it. But I mean, I have been making eggs very often since getting my rapid egg cooker off amazon (seriously, I'm in love with this thing, it does them perfectly every time) and I also eat yogurt very frequently which are both good sources of protein so maybe not? Idk why but I have this idea in my head that protein = healthy which is true in some instances but not when my mind wants to apply it to like, a McDonald's hamburger because that's what it tries to do. I did just remember though when I was reading the info about acid reflux on my new doctors website he had one of the trigger food listed as "high protein foods" which I thought was weird that that would cause a reaction, and I hadn't noticed one.....but maybe now I have? It's obviously a different reaction but hey, if the latest theories are true my acid reflux has been fucking up pretty much all my systems with random ass symptoms like furious coughing, not being able to breathe while running, and of course not being able to eat anything that hits the mild salsa level of spice (that's not an exaggeration, that's legit how I describe it sometimes or people just don't understand when I say I can't have just "spicy" foods, like it's much worse than that) so who fucking knows if this is a result of it too. It just makes me anxious about my other eating issues that I purposely have never talked about openly on this blog for a lot of personal reasons that I just don't want to be out there for the whole world to see quite yet. It's just....concerning. Sigh. I need to move on. I ate dinner and listened to the flash podcast for a little bit because I was very into the episode, before turning on Riverdale about 20 minutes into it (thanks TiVo). I vaguely remembered it was the season finale so it should get some good drama. And there was some good drama, for sure. But damn, I gotta say, I feel so damn sorry for Cheryl Blossom. I mean the girl just lost literally half of her family and found out her entire family's business was a criminal sham. Like I feel like having her go out into the frozen lake was maybe one of the only times I've seen in tv where a character resorting to attempting suicide in reaction to an event actually felt genuine and not contrived. But goddammit Archie, just let someone else help you punch through the ice ffs because there was a LOT of blood in that last shot before the ice broke and boy you probably hurt yourself real bad there. As far as the other plot stuff, I was irritated of course by the inaccurate portrayal of the child welfare system getting involved in Jughead's life. First of all, he's in a safe fictive kin placement right now, even if it's unofficial fictive kin don't have to be licensed. Fred Andrews having a single DUI on his record would not disqualify him from fostering children. He also cited money, but now that the state is involved he would get a stipend for Jughead that would take care of the money issue. Second of all, they don't take kids into care when they have another perfectly capable parent who's just in another state and "overextended." What is that word even supposed to mean? To me it feels like it could only really boil down to finances, and there are legit laws in every state saying you can't take a kid into care just because his family his poor. They even have these cool things called Norman funds to assist families in those positions. So in conclusion, if this were real life, Jughead would either stay with Archie or go to live with his mom and jellybean (which is the cutest nickname ever). I don't know why I still care though, because it's not like there is ever an accurate depiction of the child welfare system on tv or other sorts of media. And that's an issue because it perpetuates ideas like "don't call CPS, they'll just make it worse" which is how kids end up staying in abusive homes and KIDS END UP DEAD. So this is an actual problem, believe me. Sigh. The one other note of feedback I will give is I do like Archie and Veronica together. When I finished that I turned on Blindspot, which I knew was the penultimate episode so there was gonna be some big firefight with a hidden twist at the end, and of course that was exactly what happened, lol. It was a pretty good one though, and I'm looking forward to seeing what they do to wrap it up next week. And I'm glad they got another season to work with. And that was more or less it for my day, and it is late and I don't want to be dead exhausted tomorrow- oh that's right, today was the first day in like, 5 work days that I didn't fall asleep at work!!! So that's progress!!! But uh yeah, I need to sleep now. Goodnight loves. Happy Friday.

#daily journal #May 2017

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canaryatlaw · 6 years

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mmmm. today was fine, just kinda long. feel like this week’s been long already. although technically I’m almost done being that I only have a night class tomorrow and nothing on Friday, so I’m most of the way through. but yeah, today was fine. I woke up to my alarm at 11:20 and got ready, and started trekking to school. It was like 29 degrees out and lightly snowing, but I thought I’d go to the red line because it wasn’t all bad out. I generally implement alternative travel methods when temperatures start to get under 30, but for one degree I was willing to brave the elements. got to school, dumped my stuff at the PAD office, and went to civil rights. it was fairly interesting, we’re mostly still doing stuff we covered in con law so it’s nothing new really, but it’s not the utmost thrilling stuff. civil rights law basically revolves around constitutional law, because it’s all about your rights under the constitution. so it’s good enough for now. After class ended I went back to the PAD office and hung out until approximately 3:05, at which point I grabbed my purse and walked down to Michigan Ave (the eastern most city block) and got on a bus that took me up the road to where Ulta is so I could get my hair cut. I used to go to the gym up there with some frequency last year before I started PT so I knew how to get up there easily enough. I realized in the beginning of December that because how my month was gonna be just that crazy (flying to california for two days, finals, back to NY) there was no way I was gonna be able to fit in a haircut appointment, and I was coming up on ten weeks since at that point, and I didn’t wanna get it cut while in NY because I don’t trust anyone but my hairdresser with my hair lol because she knows what I want, so I knew my hair was gonna be sooooo ridiculously long by the time I got in to get a haircut, and it was sooooo long lol it was totally out of control and had basically taken on a life of its own, so it was basically driving me nuts and I was very happy to have my pixie cut (more or less, anyway) back with just the right amount of bangs. I always enjoy talking to my hairdresser and chatting about our lives, she’s really sweet and is definitely like, invested in my law school journey haha like she was like “I feel like we were just in first year!” and I was like yeah me too haha. so that’s always pleasant. She’s pretty expensive as far as haircuts go, but I don’t mind because I like her and I know she’s not going to fuck up my hair, so I’m fine with paying a little more for her. When I was done there I hopped on another bus route that didn’t take me back to where I left on Michigan, but on the other side of the school block, so it was good enough. I wanted to get some starbucks and was looking at stuff on the mobile app because they have a much larger menu on there when it comes to non-coffee options, but all their steamers and the like are pretty heavy calorie wise (because they have the calories listed on the app), but I saw the “pink drink” (I still feel so ridiculous saying that) was only 140 calories for a grande, so I ordered that from the app as I walked up to the store, then stood there for a few minutes before grabbing my drink and walking back to school. I heated up my dinner, more of the chicken pasta leftovers, which I’m trying to think of a better name for as a dish, because the most appropriate one would probably be chicken parmesan pasta, because it’s chicken and pasta in a parmesan sauce, but that invokes the image of fried chicken cutlet with tomato sauce and mozzarella plus pasta, so I can’t use that lol but I don’t really have a better name for it (oh well). I ate that and then went up to class for secured transactions. I have fairly mixed feelings on the class so far. When I do the reading I’m generally pretty lost, but when I actually get to class I find that I can understand what’s going on pretty well, at least a lot better than I could in bus orgs last semester, so that’s an improvement. Our prof is kind of an oddball but I like him, he’s an adjunct who actually is a main prof at one of the other law schools in the city (which is about on par with us rating wise and such). and he wrote the textbook, so you know he knows what he’s talking about. I answered a few questions because I was shaking my head to one thing he asked so he wanted me to elaborate, which I was able to do pretty well. First week he asked how to pronounce my last name, because he was inclined to use the Italian pronunciation which is in fact correct, but isn’t how the Americanized version is pronounced (it mostly turns around a g that’s silent in the Italian), but I said I was fine with him using the Italian, so he does that and it always makes me smile a little. so yeah, it wasn't a half bad class, even if it’s not quite my favorite subject. I ended up on the train home with my one sort-of friend from that class (the one who was always hanging out in the PAD office that most people regard as annoying but I think I’ve built up a tolerance to him at this point) along with another guy from the class who is basically a gunner, he’s pretty cringeworthy, but I try not to judge because I know that’s probably how some people see me when I get super interested in adoption law or child advocacy legal drafting when it’s obvious I care quite a bit about the material, when the others might not be on that level. and plus I try not to be an asshole to people for no reason, or even if I just personally find them to be annoying, so I kept these thoughts to myself. I was debating whether to implement alternative travel methods by transferring to the brown line, but decided not to because it was still like 29 out, and the walk home was fine. Got home, got some food, and decided to watch the new episode of 9-1-1 first. it’s a pretty overdramatic show, and obviously has a lot of unrealistic parts, but it is at least entertaining, so I’m good with it for now. Tonight’s episode main centered around a plane that crashed into the pacific ocean after losing all flight control, and rescuing people from it, and how the captain stayed in the sinking plane to rescue this woman who had her legs pinned even after everyone had been told to get out, and he got her out and back to her little boy and it was very sweet. There’s still this plot going on with the family whose daughter attempted suicide that they now have in this strange plot about basically being held by the department of social services because somehow its her family’s fault and she shouldn’t be allowed home?? I have no idea where these ideas came from because they aren’t from reality, that’s for sure. Sigh. When I finished I decided to go ahead and watch Riverdale being that I don’t have to wake up early tomorrow. Ngl, it was a pretty meh episode. All the stuff with Archie and Veronica’s dad was really just weird, especially with the strange wrestling bent it took. Jughead’s plot is just plain ridiculous at this point, his writing is soooooo inconsistent and now he apparently hates the north side for no conceivable reason, and is suddenly the voice for the south side and the apparently massacred POC in the town like 80 years ago?? Idk, weird. Betty’s family plot tends to be pretty cringeworthy, mostly because her parents are horrible people, so that’s not looking great. Yeah, didn’t really like the episode much. Oh well. After finishing it I started getting ready for bed pretty soon after and here we are. It’s a little past 1 am now and though I don’t have to get up in the morning I would still like to get a good night’s sleep so I will leave it here. Goodnight my dudes. Stay awesome.

#daily journal #January 2018

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