#also i was humbled hard bc interior design is so hard

[cloudyvulpine]

why tf are some of these casinos in fnv so dirty it's like y'all can sweep right?? y'all know what a broom is?

[miekasa]

hey do you have a layout of the apartment that eren and reader share in "nice"? or maybe just random pictures that remind you of it? i really wanna see if i've been imagining it right

Here is my attempt at making a floorplan for their apartment and it was harder than I thought 😭😭 don’t ask me about dimensions or scale bc <2 just know that... it’s unreasonably big and the total cost of the whole thing is like $65 million which doesn’t even include the furniture or art they’ve put in since living there. Anyway, this is the general layout of the first floor, intended to look something like the Van der Woodsen’s apartment in Gossip Girl so you can also look at that! Might do the second floor later, but all that’s really up there is Eren and OC’s bedrooms (they’ll probably renovate Eren’s sooner or later) and ensuite, another balcony, and a smaller office. 

Basically, it’s very kinda open concept space design whatever you call it. Anyway, here are some fun facts about their apartment/living arrangement!

Eren designed the majority of the apartment. It came with a lot of furniture, but he switched them out and played a big part in the renovation.

Remember, the original plan was for Eren to live in his childhood apartment (now Carla’s apartment) when Carla moved to Paris full-time; he bought this one for the two of you to live in, and it was a surprise present. He doesn’t have the knack for making clothes like his mom, but he does have a knack for designing, and he’s pretty good at interior design. 

It’s mentioned in the fic, but the elevator opens up into their apartment because it’s the penthouse. No, not just anybody can come up, you have to scan a card or be on their list to get let up by the doorman. 

There is nothing in that storage closet but packages that they keep forgetting to open lmfaooo. Maybe a few extra winter coats and random shit. 

Those statues are actually relatively new. They were a gift from Mitchell (Carla’s husband) for their wedding; he had them commissioned from an artist friend he knew in Paris. They aren’t of you and Eren (that would be a little creepy), but they represent each other. 

Eren keeps buying art just because it matches the decor and he knows that art is like a status symbol or whatever. He doesn’t know what it means, but if he likes it (or if you mention you likes it), he buys it. 

That kitchen is a dream which is funny because Eren can barely cook. Mikasa can tho, so thank fuck for her. Eren can and has fit into that pantry. 

All the plants are fake because Eren has allergies. Also because he does not have a green thumb. You guys periodically change them out for the season, and the only time a real plant is in the apartment is during Christmas. 

Armin burned himself trying to use the fireplace once and hasn’t even stepped foot near it since; he doesn’t even sit on the twin chairs near it, only the sectional because he’s a big baby. 

Coffee table #1 is the more functional one; it’s where they sit and eat, lounge, drink wine, use their laptops, so there’s usually a bunch of stuff on it. Coffee table #2 is more for show; it’s made of glass has books on it, and a candle, too. 

Whenever you fall asleep on the daybed, Eren always carries you upstairs. Similarly, he knows you’re prone to napping on the daybed, so (before getting married), whenever he felt that you were working too hard/too long on schoolwork, he would tell you work there, just bc he knew you would fall asleep. 

There isn’t a symbol for it, but there is a big set of sliding doors that can close the dining room, but it’s always open (they usually eat at the bar anyway). They always host Thanksgiving dinner at their house, but they don’t throw a lot of formal parties otherwise. They do have their friends over a bit, and they randomly show up sometimes, so they keep the extra seating around. 

Eren loves the pool, and he loves dragging you into it. The outdoor grill legitimately only gets used by Connie whenever he has a grilling kick in the middle of the summer, what the fuck does Eren know about grilling other than it seems sick to have one. 

The outdoor “bar” doesn’t actually have alcohol stocked in it. The terrace is pretty secure, no drunk person could accidentally just fall off of it, but you still don’t like the idea of having drinks accessible out there. It’s mostly sodas and fruit juices. Occasionally you and Eren sit outside with a glass of champagne or two, but nothing more than that. 

The guest bedroom hardly gets used because your guests are obsessed with the sectional, so they usually fall asleep there. The only people who like the bed are Mikasa, Reiner, and Sasha. 

The atelier was, obviously, designed with Carla in mind. She does have her own apartment in the city, but Eren put this one in for her anyway (way before the events of NICE happened; which only goes to show that even though Eren is mad at his mom for her marriages, he never hated her and always sought to take care of her). It doubles as a fitting room and powder room of sorts. 

Eren has never used the first floor bathroom. 

The art at the end of the hallway was done by Jean, and was originally a gift for your birthday, but offered to pay him and value you it like real, expensive art. Eren claims that was a waste of money. You just have to point to any random object in the house to humble him about “wasting money.” 

[yarnshoes]

Time skip sd!!Maki gives off finance bro vibes ngl 😬but the kind that's emotionally available.drinks respect women juice.polite and kind to everyone.likes kids.the type of guy that has multiple side hustles because he wants to make as much money as he can and retire early.into fashion, likes everything designer.looks like he would be really into interior design. Aesthetics are very important to him.i can see him with quite a big following on Instagram but he's not exactly an influencer.just someone who posts aesthetic pictures.is into coffee.

Sorry for posting so much.suddenly I have waves of ideas coming out of nowhere probably the loneliness 💀idk if you remember but I was the anon who was jobless for a really long time but I finally got a job.I'm not doing so well here but that's okay little things like this makes me happy. Also happy new year yasu,wishing the best for your future 🙆🏽‍♀️

Oh yeah yep my mans definitely a business student but the only difference he has w his peers is that hes a nice humble guy lmao🤕 i like how almost everyone hc him coming from a wealthy family. Hard agree on everything u just said!!

Additional gen z au for sendoh, kogure, haruko (n a message for u!) below🚶

Sendoh: 100% still enjoys fishing (its a pretty integral part of his personality imo, signaling patience, aloofness, and detachment esp as a teenager). I dont rly see him as being into video games at all, instead he might have niche little interests that he never revealed. Maybe marine biology? Like watching underwater nature live cams for hours at a time. Weird guy. Bad w technology.

Kogure: i feel like he might b rly into making educational content on tiktok or yt, like vsauce but way more amateur-like yknow. Wud absolutely take engineering classes in college, fascinated w machinery (niche lil thing: i think hed LOVE studying ancient/old mechanisms). And bc hes rather knowledgeable abt these things, hes very very against smart appliances and weird modern tech trends (bitcoins etc).

Haruko: ok so. I somehow hc her as having..... Weird cutesy tastes as a genz teen. U know marzia? P*wdiepies wife? Kinda like her. Rly rly into cute and colorful pottery/handcrafts and her room is full of em. 100% has an aesthetic insta/tiktok acc where she posts her stuff. Fairy lights. Loves indie female musicians. Ghibli girl.

Im so glad ur somewhat having fun talking w me still ^w^ sry i dont rly post sd on this blog anymore, everything abt that goes to malewifemaki! Congrats on ur job!! I hope this yr is gentler and kinder to all of us! Be well n stay healthy, im here if u wanna talk abt anything.💕

[gotatext]

                   hllo ! i’m nora ( she / her, 24, gmt ) crawling back to this rp once more like the dirty sewer slug i am !! i just can’t get enough, baybeyyy ! u may remember me frm such roles as alma putnam, rory bergstrom, bridget matusiak or greta o’driscoll 2 name jst a few.... sure there were more over these long years, bt the show must go on.... this is mimi, she’s dogmatic, tenacious n single-minded 2 the point of recklessness, she doesn’t like handouts n she’s funding her degree through her onlyfans account n moaning abt shit on tiktok. we love 2 see it !!  slam that like button n i’ll creep into ur DMs like the slippery worm i am   OR u can discord me at that bitch carole baskin#8664.   a humble pinterest.

『ALEXA DEMIE ❙ CIS-FEMALE 』 ⟿ looks like MIMI MARTÍNEZ is here for HER SOPHOMORE year as an ARCHITECTURE AND SOCIAL ANTHROPOLOGY student. SHE is 22 years old & known to be STRONG-WILLED, GOAL-ORIENTED, ARROGANT & EASILY BORED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ nora. 24. gmt. she/her.

this is p embarassing but i actually originally wrote mimi for a discord rp based around love island asgjag dont laugh at me but it was so chaotic n someone deleted it w-out telling any of us so i lost her bio.... all her threads....e verythin.... it was mad. but anyway we startin from scratch w this intro so bare with

mimi is a really extra character so when trying to flesh her out i thot of the most extra thing i could do n made a colour coded mindmap with watercolour paints detailing her values, aesthetics and early life. shoot me

background: she grew up in a trailer home in boulder city, abt half an hour from vegas. her mom had worked in a vegas casino for most of her 20s but relocated to boulder city for a slower pace of life / lower crime rate when she started having kids. mimi has 2 older brothers n she’s the youngest. has that invulnerable younger sibling complex n basically thinks nothing can touch her. very confident in her own intelligence and her ability to get shit done 

has mexican ancestry on her mom’s side. doesn’t know her dad. was raised with spanish catholic principals n found it all very stained glass windows and extra n that’s why she was kinda drawn to the decadence of vegas and all these massively high key aesthetics, like dia de les muertos was her fave thing growin up just bcos the pure feel of the festival and painting a sugar skull on her face n being able to party on the streets in a flower crown where everyone was kinda anonymous but together in this celebration

in boulder city her mom worked as a carer as there’s a lot of retirees there. mimi really resented the slow pace of life, longed for some fucking energy n life. she was a cheerleader in school but outside of school there wsn’t much to do except practise stunts and go on bike rides.  occasionally they’d get dressed up and catch a bus to henderson, the next biggest city for them to get tht sweet night life

her teenage years consisted mostly of hanging around the renovated motel blocks used as housing projects n tanning by the pool. very florida project if you’ve seen that. she reminds me a lot of the mum in that. also she started working as an avon rep going door-to-door when she was 16 bcos she wanted to have her own income. like as young as 14 she’d decided she was smart enough to go to college but she didn’t have the money n her family didn’t really see it as a worthwhile thing, her mom was very like the mom from matilda “you chose books.... i chose looks!” which i think is where a lot of mimi’s more shallow / appearance-driven traits come from

wasn’t really ‘cool’ until high school. before that she was a bit of a lisa simpson type. won a spelling bee when she was 9. was in the mathletes squad in middle school. when she went from middle school to high school she started cheer and tried to reinvent herself basically. always been very concerned with social mobility and keen to socially climb, like when she enters a new situation she’ll find out who the alphas are and quickly try n befriend them

when she turned 18 she moved out and went to vegas despite her mom hating the idea bcos it was everything she’d tried to get her kids away from. she worked in the clubs there for several years as a shot girl, a table dancer, n eventually she started workin behind the bar in a strip club. in the club it ws really hard to resist becoming a dancer bcos of the sheer amount they made in tips. no one really pressured her into it she just eventually decided tht it was way more logical to do it while she was young n fit and had the stamina and ppl were willing to pay to see her body so she started taking pole fitness lessons. she also started working as a cam girl around this time

working in vegas strip clubs is basically whats paid for uni. like she didn’t go at 18 like most of her friends did bcos she didn’t have the money and she didn’t want to feel indebted to a college like she had to compete for her place and not put a toe out of line bcos she was on a scholarship. she was determined to pay her own way and it took 4 years of working really hard and saving n even tho she was working in vegas she basically never went out bcos every penny she had needed to go on uni n thts how we get to radcliffe baybeeyy

part 2  - interior / values / personality

values: the aesthetic !! literally loves the aesthetic so much. everything she owns is super embellished, she’s a pop socket gal, her dell laptop is covered in glitzy stickers, she always has acrylics n probs makes nail art videos on tiktok. really tuned into tiny details like painting a little hello kitty above her eye which translates into her degree when she’s doing small-scale mockups of town plans n stuff... she jst puts so much detail into them. ppl often get surprised when she tells them she does architecture but it makes so much sense bcos she grew up in a trailer park n was always thinking about ways the space could be more efficiently used, like she loves re-conceptualising neighbourhoods, definitely spent hours on sims as a kid. she also grew up near hoover dam n so loads of school trips they just took them there n she was like.... this is tight but it could be cooler.... where’s the passion....

massively into photography, has such a neat instagram feed like everything just compliments the tones in the next post like mMMM. idk if any of u know any architecture students but this is literally the one constant i can find…. like they all have super good instagrams feeds. is that bitch that will take 40 fake candids of u in a row at different angles to get u the perfect profile picture cos she understands the importance of marketing urself and having an online #brand

has wire rimmed glasses that she doesn’t need to see BUT they r like a magnifying glass for when she’s working with really small materials to do a mock up of an urban plan, and also just sometimes wears them for the aesthetic bc she’s such a pinterest bitch

assassination nation is such a big mood. literally the aesthetics of that and lily colson’s whole brand of feminism and nudity not being inherently sexual but at the same time wanting to profit off that bcos why the fuck shouldnt she use a corrupt system to her advantage is incredibly mimi

literally a human personification of a bratz doll both in attitude and fashion sense

somehow simultaneously gansey in the raven cycle AND elle woods in legally blonde? the two genders 

values cont bc i started rambling: her independence and freedom. being the best at any given task she sets her mind to accomplish because she is unable to accept failure. social mobility. sexual liberation. interested in the psychology of sub-cultures and how ppl form groups and interact w each other and cult identities which is why she minors in anthropology. pro-choice. pro-weed legalisation. pro-sex worker rights. very activist.

aesthetics tht remind me of her: von dutch. a strappy cami top that says ‘please do not do coke in the bathroom’. low-waisted jeans that show off her belly button piercing. acrylic nails tapping against a heavily embellished second-hand dell laptop. heart shaped sunglasses in every colour. translucent stripper heels with barbie doll heads and plastic spiders in the heel. spraying champagne you cant afford all over the walls. narcotics in a heart shaped locket. an amazon wishlist full of lingerie linked on your tinder profile. sex tapes recorded on VCR. a religious devotion to waxing clinics. necking shots like you were born to do it.

she’s an enfj type which makes her pretty charismatic and confidence, like she has a fierce kind of energy to her, but she’s also super unwilling to accept criticism, dogmatic and can only really see her own way of thinking, quite ruthless when it comes 2 other ppls emotions despite having a poor control of her own and being prone to turbulence / throwin a bitch fit in the craft lab. easily bored. competitive. self-assured to the point of arrogance. forceful. adaptable. usually more rational than emotional but occasionally loses the ability to make rational decisions when blinded by a need for perfectionism.

very goal-oriented. money motivates her. money and clothes. she wants to look bomb while earning big bucks. when she gets her mind set on a project it literally consumes her she will forget to eat and sleep? i don’t know her.  like when a final design project is due for architecture she’ll be up all night doing adderall and speed to keep her awake working on the placement of a single tree for ages cos its gotta be perfect

loves chaos. will spill your secrets and pretend it was an accident. will always be that gif of kim kardashian sipping her tea while drama unfolds around her. lives for the drama like that gifset of bratz when she comes running and gets her phone out to record a fight.

im makin her sound like a really bad person but hopefully she’ll be somewhat likeable she can be very charismatic and endearing and she’s naturally quite funny. also now she’s finally in college and doesn’t have to worry so much about money she actually allows herself to party n bcos she denied herself of it for so long she kinda makes up for it by going p wild like will be the girl climbing on to stage to crowd surf at gigs or doing a summersault off the bar and being escorted out by bouncers, thats the energy were looking at, pure dionysian hedonistic impulse

really gd at talking her way out of shit like parking fines. so good at being an ‘im baby’ girl and often dumbs herself down to figures of authority to appear less like a threatening ball-breaker and more like a confused fiat 500 girl who didn’t know red meant stop she thought it meant slow down

listens almost exclusively to female artists. has fergalicious on repeat when she does squats infront of the mirror n just the biggest fergie stan. also lana del rey’s whole vibe is massive mimi energy

ok ya thats all i have for now..... hopefully this is somewhat coherent and not just garbage.

[gwoongi]

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (2)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 4814

“She did,” Taehyung assured, reaching an arm around your waist awkwardly, but tight enough for you to feel comfortable, and safe, all at the same time. “They did. We did.”

warnings: graphic content, death references, gore, swearing, dark themes

a/n: sorree if it feels a little bit slow paced!! i just want to make it realistic :D thank you for the positive (and small) feedback, it means a lot :”) mmmm the sweet smell of CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. i love slow burns lol :3c ((i also really recommend checking out the music playlist, especially listening to this + this bc. the last of us’ music is DIVINE))

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare

As anticipated, the room connected to the rusted balcony was empty and upturned; the sheets stained caramel were tossed in bundles to the floor, bird feathers clinging to dried pools of rusted water and the smell of bird feces filled the room, overpowering the usual smell of dried sweat and blood.

Each step was meaningful and calculated as Taehyung stepped through the hotel room - because, it was indeed a hotel, as Taehyung noticed by the brass letters on the outside of each door, pulled off hinges and shedding tears of flaked paint. Leaving you behind slightly, Taehyung stepped out into the hall, staring in both directions to the end of the halls, where bodies lay rotting in sitting positions, blood-written messages praying one final time to God. He scoffed to himself.

“Find anything?” you asked, meeting him outside. He shook his head, turning to head in the West direction towards the stairs, knowing the elevator was most definitely down. An orange flicker of the light inside the pried open elevator showed a carcass, rotting and open, a putrid smell leaving through the cracks. You turned away before it sank in how affected the hotel was. Taehyung tugged at your sleeve when an open hotel door showed a bloody crib with barely moving mobiles.

Sticking to the plan you devised on the roof, Taehyung led the way, as if familiar with the hotel. A downfall of the elevator being out of use was the excessive amount of stairs, a waterfall of concrete steps running down to a square box trashed with shredded newspaper and articles of false hope: MILITARY ON THEIR WAY! VICTORY FOR HUMANITY!

Taehyung once believed in it.

The door was unlocked. Pushing it open, a cool breeze kissed Taehyung’s biceps, bare with his coat tied around his waist in a double knot. The foyer of the hotel was dark, only filters of lofty light pouring in from the windows, despite them being dirty and stained with handprints and splats of crimson. Moving away, Taehyung ducked underneath a fallen beam and stepped towards the main desk, checking for maps or papers or anything worth taking.

He leaned over, elbows on the wood, when he noticed a head of hair, facing the wall, arms outstretched and littered with red bites. Beside her, the cord to the telephone swung as if recently dropped, and the static of a radio could be heard louder when he rounded the desk to crouch before the body; it was a woman, with dark skin and brown curly hair, ripped clothing with exposed, shredded skin. Blood cried from her eyes and nose, and Taehyung sighed dejectedly as he pried away a Denver map from her hands.

The hotel was circled in a green pen - Merryweather Hotel. An arrow pointed to it, labelled City 10, Block 18.

“Shit,” he exhaled.

“What happened?” you asked, stepping over an open bag of luggage to approach him. He rose from his place, meeting you before you saw the body and the swinging mobile, or the cynical piece of paper reading, “May God Be With You”, written in Spanish, if he remembered.

Taehyung passed you the map. “Now we know where Block 18 is.”

You scanned the map, cursing softly when you noticed the markings. “The herd. Where’s the herd, then?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Taehyung replied briskly, nodding towards the doors. “Let’s just get out before we find out the walkers are behind the door to the basement, or something.”

Knowing your luck, it wasn’t entirely unrealistic.

Dampening your throat with hot saliva, you followed Taehyung to the double doors. As his fingers brushed the handle to leave, your heart thumped erratically; Taehyung had barely joined your group, and if he didn’t make it somehow...that would be on you. With little pride, you weaved in front of his arms, opting to take the lead. His gaze felt cold as you pushed in front of him, doing a slow and barely-audible countdown until Taehyung pushed the door for you, grabbing your hand in a swift and tight motion, pulling you into the room seconds before the count of three.

The door slammed closed at on 3, glass pouring to the floor with a loudness that alerted the herd before footsteps did.

The dead’s reactions were delayed, looking up from their meals to see the two of you speeding down the roads, the sound of your shoes slapping against the street echoing in the silence of the evening. Even as they begun to move, it was not fast and you were both able to make it back to the clearing where you had started at. Learning from earlier experience, Taehyung remained utterly silent, except for large gasps for air, and a string of foreign curses when the square was empty, missing Taekwoon’s ride.

They were gone.

“Fuck,” you muttered, mostly to yourself as Taehyung rushed towards a nearby car, shoved in front of the doors to a small convenience store once known as “TODD’S SHOP”. He slid into the driver’s seat, only to rush back out at the sight of a busted radio and torn apart insides, and the lack of steering wheel and pedals.

“It’s busted?” you asked, breathless, as he pulled you by the hand across the boot of the car, and into the desolate and destroyed interior of Todd’s once humble store. He closed the doors hurriedly, already working on fortifying defences.

“Completely useless.”

It’s surreal- you realise, as you scan the store and notice shelves torn off the walls, nails upturned and daunting, lights swinging, that the world can change so dramatically. Even when you try to pretend like most of the world aren’t undead and eating everything else, it’s hard to forget. Everything from the groans to the fallen stuffed animals is a reminder.

Somebody else had set up camp in the same spot. A small den had been made by pushing two display tables together, an L from the desk making a perfect sleeping station, already kitted with a cool gas lighter, and a thin and uncomfortable looking mattress and a hard pillow, stained slightly with a creamish substance that looked familiar to your high-school years. But, at this rate, anything would have to do.

“Over here, Taehyung,” you called, voice exhausted but loud enough to carry to his ears. He looked over his shoulder, briefly scanning the store as he walked robotically towards the makeshift bed. Dropping to a crouch, he craned his head to look at the bed, a frown of disgust evident on his features. But, being alive made him grateful, and he said nothing as he moved around you, occupied by your bag, to sit with his body on the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t have any food to share out,” you said quietly, but he remained unbothered.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, fingering your shirt from the back. “Maybe we can find apples on the way back.”

At that, you smile genuinely, fiddling with the gas lighter. “Apples?”

“Yeah. I saw an orchard on the way to your camp. Big green apples.”

With the flame lit timidly, you faced Taehyung with a small and vacant smile. “I like red apples more.”

“Me too. But, you can’t be picky when the world is ending,” he shrugged, and a chill slid down your spine. Masking your sudden somber mood with a faint smile, Taehyung stuck out an arm for a second pillow as you lay down beside him, facing away from the window. Taehyung leant over you, reaching to pull the blanket acting as a tent to block the auburn sunset and the thumping of biters outside the door.

“I’m sorry.”

Taehyung paused, moving his cheek across his own bicep to look at you, smushed against his arm.

“Me too.”

“I’m supposed to be the leader. I’m- I’m supposed to lead and set an example for the group,” you croaked out, feeling your eyes burn with dry tears. “You shouldn’t have come.”

A low hum left Taehyung’s throat. “Maybe. But then you’d be all alone and that walker would have got you.”

You scoffed, at that: “Jisoo would have been my partner.” A silence. “I hope she made it out.”

“She did,” Taehyung assured, reaching an arm around your waist awkwardly, but tight enough for you to feel comfortable, and safe, all at the same time. “They did. We did.”

You could barely remember the moment you woke up and left Todd’s old shop, just knowing that it was before the sun came up and in total silence. Fragments of thought- Taehyung sitting up with you still in his arms, a shake awake, and a quick jump out of the back window towards the forgotten trail into the thick woods. An avoidance, he had said, or something similar. To skip the walkers. You said nothing.

As expected, you rightly predicted that on foot, it would take nearly three days to return to camp. Sticking to the main road unless absolutely necessary, you found that you felt undeniably safe by Taehyung’s side; he walked several feet ahead, in a system designed by you, out of boredom on the long road home. You both walked along the dusty chalk-line in the middle of the road, looking forwards and to the left, backwards and to the right. Every sound was heightened in the silence, but the only thing to put you at ease was the familiar click of Taehyung’s gun, the occasional groan when his bat hit his knees and the comforting sound of absolutely nothing at all.

Cutting from the road to a trail in the woods, the sound of gravel and discarded beach pebbles underneath your boots became a familiar soundtrack as the pair of you walked along an abandoned train line, passing by a Caboose cabin on the way back home, fog slithering down the mountainous wall surrounding the Denver area.

Taehyung was right, too- on the way along the tracks, a big and blooming apple tree hung over the dip between the tracks and an ebony coloured stream of water, with giant green apples swinging in the breeze. Taehyung had helped hoist you up to pick four apples for the journey back, the first food of the day. The original sourness became a drug in your mouth, a taste so addicting that the four apples intended to last four hours lasted ten minutes. You simply tossed the cores to the side, hoping a tree would grow in the world that stopped working.

Further towards the warehouse, it became familiar enough to talk. Taehyung talked first, keeping the conversation clear and above the surface, mentioning his sister once again and the one time they went to Memphis for Spring Break and got lost. After almost dying alongside him more than once, it was impossible to fight the urge to know more about him. To debunk the mystery behind the new member who arrived with the gash in his leg, three cigarettes in his boot, and a stolen Scorpion-owned pistol covered in a crocodile skin protector.

Following the ancient-looking trail back to the warehouse, where the hills got steep, you could see the tops of the barbed fences enclosing the hideout, and a wave of relief washed over you. The atmosphere had changed drastically, and your feet moved quickly up the hill despite its efforts to deter you. Just a little bit further ahead…

Reaching the top of the hill, it took less than three seconds to recognise that something was wrong. The approaching puffs of air didn’t pull your gaze away from the swinging gates, very much open. Taehyung rested a hand on your forearm, confused. “Why’d you stop?”

His gaze lifted tenderly, noticing the opened gates and he hesitated, devoid of expression and breath. The wind stopped. Birds paused their singing. A cloud covered the sun.

Then, all at once, you broke out into a sprint, running towards the camp to see it in literal ruins. You had been gone less than three days, and everything had fallen apart without you. You should have noticed warning signals from the rising smoke on the way back home, but with a non-threatening camp just miles away from your own, it was always hard to tell the source. Part of the warehouse was alight, smoke stuck in the ceiling but nonetheless smelling out the place, and newspapers and colouring books fluttered like wings in the wind, carrying a smell of burning flesh with the familiar smell of oil and charcoal, burning paper, the smell of burnt toast. 

Majority of the vehicles were gone, except one small Nissan Versa in a decorative black, although now painted in ash. A pile of blood, and a trail of dragged red towards the spot where the cars once were made your stomach churn, and the sight of a hand sticking out from behind the dumpsters, a hand that was human, was enough to make you cry out, in agony, staggering towards the dumpsters to find the mauled and maggot-covered body of little Yena.

She was too young. Way too young.

“Y/N?”

Sniffing, and turning to Taehyung with tear-stained cheekbones, you met his somber gaze as he passed you a sheet of sooty covered paper. Your reaction was delayed, but you nonetheless turned from the sight of Yena mangled up and gingerly took the paper from his hands, feeling the comfort of his fingertips brushing your own, gaze distracted on the corpse by the dumpster.

Y/N.

I hope you’re reading this. I hope it’s you, and not somebody else. It needs to be you.

We arrived back to camp with every intention of coming to find you the following morning. As I’m writing this, we have very little time. I’m in the car while the others deal with the biters. They’re in. They got in. They got Yena by the gate without us knowing. We think she’d gone to get flowers from the meadow, and got caught by one on the way back inside.

Yena didn’t make it.

With what we have left, we’re heading to Georgia. While the group were gone, we got a signal. From a group of survivors who have a boat with extra spaces. We made connection and managed to guarantee us seats on the boat. With Yena gone, at least we’ll have room for us all to safely cross the waters to somewhere new.

We’ll wait for you for as long as we can. We love you, and I hope you’re safe. Taehyung, too. I hope you made it out alive. We left a car. I hope it’s there for when you come home.

Please come. May God be with you.

Or whatever you believe in.

Doyoung.

“They’re gone,” you said finally, your voice scratchy from crying. Without even knowing, Taehyung had lead you away from the sight of Yena and towards the car. He’d put a sheet over her, to keep whatever dignity she had left. He pulled open the door for you. “They’re safe.”

“I know,” Taehyung replied, gently pushing you into the car. “Buckle up.”

The door shut, and instead of doing what he asked, you popped open the footwell, taking out a pen from the small leather pouch, drawing a wonky line from Colorado straight to Georgia. Pointing out the obvious, but enough to occupy the seconds alone inside the car. Taehyung moved into the seat next to you, closing the door and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the car was fully filled with petrol, and Taehyung sighed with relief when the engine started smoothly.

“Do you know how to drive?” you asked suddenly, and Taehyung looked at you with a deadpan expression, one eyebrow quirked.

“No.”

“Are you kidding me? No, get out, we’re switching. I can’t believe-”

“People are coming back from the dead and eating each other, and yet you can’t believe that I can’t drive?” Taehyung asked, almost offended. “Put your seatbelt on, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “I don’t fancy dying because you drove us off the road.”

“Why do you have, like, no trust in me at all?” he asked, a sigh in his voice as he reversed the car. “Just because I don’t have a license doesn’t mean I can’t drive safely. I got an Alton Towers drivers license when I went on holiday to England, so, it technically counts.”

“...Are you fucking with me?.”

“Deadly serious,” he nodded, smiling when he saw you grinning in the seat beside him. “I did laps around that track like my life depended on it, and I took the license to school and told kids I had passed my test.”

Leaning over to switch on the radio, you shook your head. “You’re full of surprises, you know.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take it. Which direction is Georgia?”

“That way,” you estimated, pointing an arm in the direction on the map. “You ever been to Georgia?”

“Six months ago, I’d never really been anywhere except for New York,” Taehyung replied. “You?”

“Nope. It’ll be like a holiday for us both,” you said, settling into the seat with the sound of a random jazz CD playing quietly. “Is that okay? Going on holiday with me?”

Taehyung pretended to think about it, and then looked over with a faint smile ghosting his lips, eyebrows quirked with an essence of playfulness. “I couldn’t think of anything worse.”

OCTOBER 27TH, 4 YEARS AGO. [x]

“What do you mean, you’re not going to Uni?”

For October, it was warm. Jiyong walked alongside you, his hands balled into fists in the pockets of his green bomber jacket, knees nude in the rips of his jeans. Just further ahead, Seunghyun led a trail of smoke towards an alley walled by chainmail fences, a lime-green light creating a path towards a low hum of chatter, his boots crunching on broken bottles and Autumn leaves.

You shrugged next to him, brushing against his shoulder. “I dunno, really. Can’t afford to go.”

“Uni’s do bursary now,” Jiyong said. “For people who don’t have a lot of money.”

“I appreciate it, Ji, but, I don’t think I’m fit for Uni,” you replied, exhaling a shaky laugh. The small group of high-schoolers made it to the end of the alley, stepping into the back-street submerged in a midnight silence, Denver lights creating bokeh effects in the after-rain landscape.

Minding the dark puddles, you walked in a short silence to a series of stairs leading to an abandoned subway line that expected construction months ago. Down them, students and late-nighters congregated near the train-lines, the familiar smell of weed and cheap Vodka in small dugouts in the wall, and you inwardly cringed as the three of you walked further down the subway station, towards a second staircase leading up, opening up into an abandoned street, where the hum of chatter became roars of excitement. Further ahead, bright nude lights outlined the buildings lining the street, and an accelerating vibration wriggled down the street, shaking the chains on fences, sending Seunghyun into an episode of excited dancing, cigarette slipping through his fingers and dying in the swimming pool of rainwater that flooded a nearby drain.

“Even Seunghyun is going to Uni,” Jiyong continued, irrelevant to the fact that you simply did not have the money to go. “You can’t leave us.”

“Sorry, Ji,” you said quietly, patting his shoulder gently. “It’s just not gonna happen.”

Jiyong watched as you left, his eyes lingering on the imprint left on his jacket. Stepping towards Seunghyun who was already steps ahead, he excitedly tugged at your sleeve, pulling you at a fast pace towards two large open iron gates, past bleachers and towards a once-alive-but-now-abandoned race-track, the type you saw on TV once, the type racers in the area used to practise for Formula tracks. By large barrels painted neon red, two parked race cars revved their engines, the crowd screaming with the bass-line of a song imported from Korea, courtesy of the star racer, Kwon Hyojong. Apparently Jiyong knew his family.

“What’s this about Uni?” Seunghyun asked suddenly, arm swung around your shoulders.

“Not you, too,” you groaned, removing his arm. “I can’t be arsed right now.”

“I’m just asking!” he responded, surrendering by raising his arms. To the side, Jiyong approached a group of girls you recognised from school. “I’m not here to lecture you like he will. He’s known you longer, so it’s part of his programme to mother you. Me, on the other hand��”

He trailed off suggestively, meeting your eye with a small and friendly smirk. Rolling your eyes, you nudged him to move, walking alongside him towards the barrier near the track. Across the road, the second racer, Johnny, took photos with some guys wearing glasses.

“I can’t afford it, after Mum, and everything,” you said, honestly, concentrating on the circles massaged into your skin by Seunghyun’s thumb. “But, it’s okay. I’ll still be in the area. You’re thinking of going to Denver Uni, yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips once. “Still close enough to see you.”

“See?” came your voice, strained but nonetheless positive. Seunghyun smiled vacantly, hands on your body, sandwiched between the bar and his torso. “You won’t even realise I’m not there.”

“...Y/N.”

PRESENT DAY.

“Y/N.”

Jolting awake, your elbow slid off the door of the car, attention pulled away from the memory to the man beside you. Taehyung had been driving wordlessly, the radio quiet, the rain loud enough to send you to sleep. As the car passed the “WELCOME TO OKLAHOMA” sign on the left side of the road, his gaze had landed on your body, abnormally curled up on the seat.

Stirring, limbs sore, you rubbed your eyes clear of sleep, yawning. “‘sup?”

“Away out where the West begins, you’ll find Oklahoma!” he sang, a childish smile present as you groaned in annoyance.

“Already?”

He made a voiced confirmation. “Three minutes ago.”

Pulling the car into a slip-road, you straightened in your seat and took back the map that had slid into the footwell at some point during the journey. Taehyung looks after absentmindedly, his gaze heavy and content watching you scan the red lines on the map, oblivious to the empty road ahead.

“You mumble in your sleep,” he said finally, and you catch your tongue between your teeth suddenly, flinching towards him with a perplexed, and almost afraid, expression.

“I do?”

He nodded, humming. “Yeah. Little things like the weather. The Elvis vinyl.” He wriggled his brows, smirking.

Without realising, you sigh in relief. “Wish I could mumble out a way to cure this thing.”

Taehyung smiled a tight-lipped smile, his features giving away that there was something he wasn’t saying. To his relief, you didn’t notice; your attention was poured onto the map meanwhile he drove, silently, nearing a clutter of cars stained brown and ashy-white. He exhaled slowly, letting the car roll.

“We’re stopping?” you asked, looking up.

“I’m just gonna check something,” Taehyung assured, smiling once and pulling the keys out of ignition. The car jerked violently as it stopped, the radio cutting, the rain washing the front window. “Stay here.���

“Taehyung, no, I want to come with you-”

Without being rude, Taehyung opened the door and silenced your protests, locking it for good measure as you angrily pulled at the handle, glaring through the raindrops as he stepped, drenched by the minute, towards the barricade of cars blocking the road. He stood quietly, hands on hips, analysing the situation: if he moved the cars, it would clear the road, with the definite outcome of attracting walkers with the noise. Letting out a sigh, Taehyung looked around the area, noticing small community apartments lit with China lanterns, a banner with running ink reading: STILL ALIVE, but he couldn’t take any risks.

For now, at least, his own responsibility was keeping the both of you alive. No matter what it cost him.

Over the short ride across Denver, there was plenty of time for Taehyung to get to know you, to find out more about the leader of the group who took him in when nobody else would. He barely scraped below the comfort zone, only getting an age- the same as himself, aged 21- and a birthday, the name of a poem you wrote aged seven, the name of a family pet you had who passed away months before the outbreak. In return, you learned Taehyung studied Economics and Music at NYU and that he liked jazz music, which explained the torturous loop of whatever CD had been left behind in the car.

It wasn’t enough to start a friendship. But it would have to do.

Returning to the car, he sank into the suede seat and started the car back up, the lights switching on and the saxophone solo continuing.

“Nothing?”

Taehyung shook his head, reversing. “Nothing that wouldn’t cause attention. There’s a road, over there. I’m hoping it will take us right around the mound. Close your window- anything could pry it down.”

You didn’t argue. He knew what he was doing.

The car rolled silently, moving away from the barricade of cars and instead down a left-hand backstreet, cutting underneath a large junction, the old shed-sales company redundant and rotting with wet mould. The windscreen wipers cut away the stains of rain, clearing a view for Taehyung to manoeuvre around discarded bodies and open drains, the occasional biter trying to move from beneath a fallen lamppost, or groaning behind a fence too thick to bite through.

“Imagine how cool it would be inside an IKEA right now,” you said suddenly, staring at the large blue building just off the road, littered with biters in the car-park. Taehyung snorted. “I’m serious. Maybe we could pretend life was normal.”

“This is normal, now,” he replied, his voice quiet, as if afraid to be loud. “I don’t think I could get used to going back to how things were. Not after what I’ve been through.”

“I get that,” you nodded. “It would be nice to sleep on a real bed, though.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Further down the road, as the car cruised past an open alley looking outwards to a flooded stream littered with blood and guts, the atmosphere shifted. It was the type of moment where the air becomes clammy and it’s hard to breathe, even harder to pretend like nothing has changed. On command, the radio signal wavered, the smooth vocals of a singer you didn’t know crunched into incoherent static, and out the corner of your eye, you took note of the way Taehyung gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Y/N, seriously, put your seatbelt on this time,” he said warningly, his gaze flickering to the shaking seatbelt that hadn’t been worn once during the trip. Sensing danger, you did what he said, putting your seatbelt in the slot.

Cautious of speed, Taehyung drove steadily down the road, ready to turn back onto the street when someone jumped in front of the car. She- it was clear enough to decipher that it was, indeed, a woman- slammed her palms flat on the bonnet of the car, eyes crazed and blood pouring from her lips. Unexpectedly, the car halted, making you thankful of the seatbelt.

“Please…” her voice said, quiet but loud at the same time. You glanced at Taehyung with a frantic gaze, noticing that his hand was ready on the gear-stick. “They’re gonna come for me. They gonna come. Take me with you. Get out, I’m takin’ your car.”

She moved in stutters, her body moving before her legs, like the shake of your body with a cough. Taehyung reversed slightly, bumping the tail of the car into a biter who had picked itself up from the corners of the abandoned shed company lot, its face sneering through the back window.

“They’re gonna kill me,” she repeated, but Taehyung didn’t budge.

“Taehyung- she’s-, we-”

“Get out the car or else I’ll kill the both of ya!” the woman screamed, violently lunging at the driver’s window, hands fisting the glass.

“Go!” you screeched, pinching the skin on Taehyung’s wrist as you gripped the steering wheel. “Please, go, go, go, go-”

Stepping on the gas, the car pushed forward at an alarming speed, a trail of thick black smoke blinding the biter but nonetheless drawing in more from the shadows, staggering and swarming towards the woman painted in crimson blood, her elbow white and exposed, the skin curling up with an infection, a bite on her neck.

Turning in your chair, you felt compelled to watch; the premium viewing experience, watching her get torn to pieces by her neighbours, a childhood best friend, a lover. Their grown fingernails scratching at her skin like needles to paper, the sinister sound of her screams attracting herds of biters from across the town, eager to taste. As Taehyung drove away, fast enough to avoid the mob but slow enough to save gas, it was harder to look away. Harder to look away from the beauty that was death.

NEXT CHAPTER.

[lilyscnders]

Is that EMILIA CLARKE walking down Old Town Front Street? Nah, LILY SANDERS just looks like their identical twin! The 27-YEAR OLD has been a NATIVE for 27 YEARS. On their good days, LILY is ANIMATED and GENIAL, but if you catch them on a bad day, they may be GULLIBLE and IMPATIENT. Keep your eyes on this KINDHEARTED EVENT PLANNER. Wonder what they’ve been up to lately in Sunnymead!

HELLO here is my intro post about this sweet bean askdj let’s pLOT

childhood & growing up

lily was born and raised in sunnymead to a wealthy family. her father, a financial consultant, and her mother, a renowned photographer. 

despite how hard her parents worked day in and out, they always worked even harder to give lily the affection she deserved. they supported all of her interests, showered her with affection and most importantly, taught her that there was nothing more important than being kind and giving more so than receiving.

throughout high school, lily was on the shy side and only had two close friends at the time ― she was 100% okay with this. 

lily dabbled a lot in DIY projects, as well as photography like her mother. the launch of pinterest could not have brought her more joy (ya ok she’s one of those)

with a love for giving back, photography and all things creative, she soon fell into a love for event planning.

college & early adulthood

after graduating high school, lily enrolled in college as a hospitality major with a minor in interior design.

during her freshman year of college, she shed her shy demeanor and blossomed into a social butterfly. she found herself making friends left and right in classes, talking to strangers in the grocery line and hosting all sorts of dinner parties (and house parties okurrr)

it wasn’t until her junior year of college that, after a bed breakup, her spark began to dim a bit. she experienced an unfortunate bout of depression that nearly pushed her to drop out of college.

however, again, with the support of her parents and some close friends, she was able to complete her last few semesters and earn the degree she’s worked tirelessly for.

at the age of twenty-two, she had earned her bachelor’s. by the age of twenty-three, she was in the midst of developing her own company with the help of her mother, a seasoned professional in a similar field, as well as her father.

today

lily sanders events is now a flourishing company in the sunnymead area and beyond. from weddings to corporate events to baby showers, lily’s business has earned her several awards and recognition from all over the area.

she is still v humble about everything and recognizes her privilege and uses it to give back in every way she can

personality

OKAY the fun part. lily is v sensitive. i mean, she was basically coddled her entire life and this is easily her biggest flaw. she is also just veryyyy naive tbh. i don’t want to call her childish bc she can hold her own and she does run her business independently but like,.......... lmao yeah

she just wants to be everyone’s friend tbh. she doesn’t like confrontation but if she’s forced into that position, she’ll most likely just say something along the lines of “well, yOU’RE MEAN” and storm off sdkffsj protecc

on the downside, bc she was so coddled, she often catches herself doing some selfish things and making things about her. if someone calls her out, she typically corrects it but she can go overboard.

she is veryyyy human. she has flaws. she has the capacity to lie (and sometimes not feel guilty), say mean things, take shortcuts, etc. i have zero intentions of making her this clueless little angel who is infallible. that won’t fly. 

anYWAY some connections i’m digging for her atm

prospective/past clients ― this client/event planner relationship could have evolved into something friendly, not-so-friendly, business partners, etc. i’m v open minded! 

business partners ― bc she’s an event planner, she works with all sorts of hospitality workers: caterers, musicians, bartenders, restaurants, photographers, artists. honestly, if it makes sense, I’M DOWN!!

ex-boyfriend ― aside from her crappy ex in college, i do imagine her having been in at least one serious (or not) relationship since then?? this can also be a case of unrequited love for either party, fwb, casual dating, idk idk we can tAAALLLK

best friend ―honestly i rly want her to have at least one or two best friends that she’s v close with and can text at 2am with her stupid i-can’t-sleep-thoughts or someone she can send hallmark cards to just bc it made her think of them or someone to get brunch with and get drunk on blood mary’s with every sunday idk idk

neighbor ― this is also v cute, esp if it’s someone she has a crush on or vice versa.

[scrambledthoughtz]

okay. wow. can we just talk about how INSANELY talented Jodie Comer is??? like holy shit man. her character in “Killing Eve” is TRULY something else. her facial expressions, her accents, the different languages that seem to so easily roll off her tongue (even though she doesn’t actually speak all of these languages). it’s just absolutely phenomenal. she truly does deserve all the Emmy’s. same with Phoebe Waller Bridge, who acted and wrote “Fleabag” and who was also a writer for “Killing Eve”, and Elizabeth Moss, who plays June in “The Handmaid’s Tale.” Damn, these are all some of the best shows out there, in my opinion. The writing, acting, cinematography are just *chef’s kiss*. I’m honestly pretty speechless at just how TALENTED these individuals are. Like they embody so many different facial expressions and mannerisms that are so subtle yet so essential to the characters they play. I’m honestly blown away. and when I watch their acceptance speeches at the Emmy’s or any other awards shows, they all seem so surprised, shocked, and humbled to win an award. but they’re all phenomenal actors so why wouldn’t they??? it almost saddens me to see when they’re so surprised bc did they really think they wouldn’t win?? of course we are all our own worst critics, but wow. These actors are next-level talented. Honestly, I’ve been thinking more and more about what my dream job would be if nothing else in the world mattered, and here are the top 5 that I’ve come up with: 1) journalist 2) author 3) filmmaker/ screenwriter 4) interior designer and 5) photographer/ videographer. 

Now I know that Hollywood isn’t all glitz and glamour, but the whole filmmaking/ screenwriting/ directing process honestly seems so fun and a great way to express creativity, and it seems like it would be cool to dabble in. I’ve even looked into some film organizations at UCLA bc it occurred to me out of nowhere that if it’s something I truly want to learn more about, LA is probably the best place to explore that interest. 

Or maybe I’m just riding the high that I always feel after finishing a show or a season of a show. It’s hard to put it into words, but whenever I finish a show or season, I feel so nostalgic, a little melancholy, and just overall hyped and I end up binge-watching interviews with each of the cast members (usually each and every one of them on YouTube and I’m not even exaggerating) to kind of emulate the emotion and excitement that I felt while watching the show. It’s almost like I want to prolong that high. and honestly? I think that’s part of the reason why I am so hesitant to start a new show sometimes -- because I know that I will feel the exact same way after each of them finish and that I won’t really be able to focus on anything else in the few days afterwards. and once I finish the show, it’s almost like I need to start a new show immediately to satisfy that craving or urge, and it becomes a dangerous cycle that’s not worth falling into, especially when I need to focus on school or other work. This has happened so many times: during the second semester of my senior year of high school, I binge-watched the entirety of Grey’s Anatomy. There would be days when I come home from school and immediately open my laptop and start watching until the sun set, and the only light in my pitch-black room would be the blinding brightness from my laptop screen as I devoured episode after episode after episode. Sometimes I wouldn’t even start the homework that was due until the next morning. It was bad. I got lazy, sloppy, careless with my work. Not one of my finest moments. Last last semester, I binge-watched “Friends” up until the point that they took it off Netflix starting January 1 of this year. Literally up until the last minute. I was in Yosemite and I decided to watch up until the very last minute until the new year began. I bet Netflix regrets taking that show off -- especially with the total shitstorm that this year has become, I’m certain a lot of us could use the distraction. Now, last semester, I started watching “The Office” and there were so many days that I simply let myself go and binge-watched entire seasons of the show instead of working on school. See the pattern? It’s why I’m so hesitant to start shows. I was actually doing pretty well at one point -- I hadn’t watched a show in a long time, and I decided to indulge and I watched the entirety of the last season of “OITNB” within a matter of days, and it destroyed me. I don’t know why I have the tendency to let shows get to me so deeply. But once I start a show, I can’t stop. It’s like an annoying itch that I feel the need to get rid of, so I just finish everything at once. I finish everything FAST with the intention of finishing it quicker so that I can get back to my work sooner. But sometimes even that doesn’t work -- I binge-watched “Dead To Me” and I watched it so quickly that I actually didn’t catch a lot of the crucial moments, so I ended up re-watching it. I’m doing the same with “Fleabag” right now. I don’t know why I feel the need to do that, either. More often than not, I speed through shows, books, even tests and readings to get a glimpse into what I’m getting myself into or out of pure curiosity, and then I go back and re-read or re-watch in-depth. This actually isn’t a bad habit to have when it comes to carefully checking my work during tests or when grasping assigned readings, but it’s a terrible habit to have when watching shows bc then it takes up more of my time that could be spent doing something more productive. In fact, I think part of it might be attributed to counteracting anxiety with familiarity. Sometimes I like to re-watch shows that I’ve already watched bc it takes away the anxiety and anticipation that often leads to binge-watching. If I already know what’s going to happen, I’m less likely to spend so much time trying to reach the ending. LOL idk my mind works in strange, ineffective ways sometimes. 

[honorsphilosophyitalytrip-blog]

January 8th, 2018 - Roma

Today, we visited the Jewish Ghetto in Roma. When I first heard the phrase “Jewish Ghetto”, I didn’t really know what that phrase meant. As an American, the only time I had ever used the phrase “ghetto”, was as a pejorative descriptor for African-American neighborhoods, activities, cultures, and people. Therefore, the concept of a Jewish Ghetto didn’t quite click in my head immediately. After some research, however, I have a better understanding of the word’s origin and its meaning – the word “ghetto” originated in Italy, in fact, with the Jewish ghetto of Venice. Since its coining, it has come to mean any area, most likely one within a large city, where a minority group is forced to live.

When we arrived at the Museo Ebraico di Roma (Jewish Museum of Rome), our excellent tour guide told us all about the history of Roma’s Jewish Ghetto – which has existed since 1555 BC. It was originally instated by the Pope at the time, Paul IV, along with an order that required all Jewish people in Roma to live within the ghetto. Living in the ghetto, the gates of which were only open while the sun was in the sky, demoted Jewish Romans to second class citizens. This treatment was purposefully horrible – the Pope, and the Catholic church, wished to convert Roma’s Jewish population to Christianity, and priests would come into the ghetto to preach to them, with the promise of better living conditions as a result of conversion.

One of the forms of oppression Roma’s Jewish population faced was economic – Jewish people in Roma were forbidden from doing any job other than lending money, which would later become untenable due to the Papal Bank, and selling used clothing. This was to ensure that Jewish workers would never be able to meet anyone of higher status, and make connections, as only lower classes would purchase used clothing from them. As a result of the working men all taking jobs in the used clothing business, the women of the Jewish Ghetto became some of the best seamstresses in Roma. One example of their handiwork was pointed out to us by our tour guide – the beautifully intricate mantels, which are coverings specifically designed to protect the scrolls of the Torah, the holy text of Judaism. These mantels, which were also displayed in the museum with keters, which are metal caps to ‘crown’ the Torah scrolls, were just one piece of the beauty that could be found in the museum.

The Museo Ebraico di Roma, located in the basement of the Great Synagogue of Rome, is a home to a plethora of artifacts from Roman Jewish culture. Everything in the museum, from the remnants of the arks used in previous Roman synagogues, to pieces of stone from the Jewish catacombs, inscribed with Jewish symbols and information on the dead in Greek and Latin, told a story about Jewish life in Roma. While the Jewish people have always suffered, and Roma was no exception to this narrative, every single piece that was on display told a story – even if one could not understand it, they were touched. I remember the first thing that I noticed when I walked into the museum was an intricate menorah (a Jewish symbol that symbolizes the seven days of creation, among other things) shaped like a flower, delicately crafted with the utmost care and detail.

I constantly found myself simultaneously in awe and humbled by our trip to the Jewish Ghetto. When we were led by our tour guide into the Great Synagogue of Rome, my heart nearly stopped beating the instant I laid eyes upon its interior. We have seen so many amazing, wondrous, stunning buildings in Rome over the past six days – but, for me, this one will always be the most beautiful. Simultaneously simple and ornate, the interior of the Great Synagogue of Rome is decorated with a plethora of Jewish symbols, all of which celebrate G-d in some way or another. The roof of the synagogue, which is the only square dome in all of Roma, makes the structure stand out as distinctly unique. I honestly cannot describe what made it so beautiful to me. Maybe one has to see it to understand.

After our tour was over, we had the opportunity to explore the museum and the surrounding area of the ghetto. The first thing I did, after I had looked through the museum, was go into the gift shop and get something for myself: a pendant in the shape of a hand, with two thumbs – the Hamsa, a symbol of protection in the Middle East and North Africa region, which is also featured prominently in Jewish culture. I remember the first time I saw the Hamsa was the first time I went to a Shabbat service, at UD Hillel – my friend Finn was showing me around the building, and explaining various symbols and terms that we were coming across, including the Hamsa. I really look forward to keeping it on my person, as both a memento of my visit, and as a protective measure. After leaving the museum, some of us students went into another museum right across the street, one that focused on the history of the Shoah (Holocaust), in Italia and Roma. Walking through that museum was difficult, imagining the pain and the chaos of the time period, pain that still affects people to this day, something that will never be erased from human history. It’s hard, but it’s something we must never forget – especially in this day and age, as fascist politics are seeing a definite rise, both in Europe and at home. Leaving the heaviness of the museums behind, our group got lunch, and, after lunch, visited a traditional Jewish bakery – I decided to get myself a cookie, and, kindly, I was given it for free by the owner of the bakery. Even in the shadow of pain and suffering, it is so, so important to be kind.

Religion is a major theme of our trip to Italia this Winter – we’re discussing religious pluralism, and the different religions of the Roman Empire, the Italian City-states, and the Italian Republic. Judaism, of all the religions present in this country, is one of the ones that I find myself drawn to the most, and I never tire of learning more about its practice, and finding what my own beliefs do and do not resonate with. While the traditions of the Jewish people may be unfamiliar to us as a group, it is important not to alienate or belittle any individual tradition – just because one finds the sounds of Hebrew words to be humorous, does not mean they can joke about ‘wearing ukuleles’ in the synagogue, or because we have been raised in a world of anti-Semitism, does not mean that we can ignorantly spread those attitudes. All religions deserve respect, and, in my opinion, love – that is the true spirit of religious pluralism, the crafting of a new, better world, by understanding and working side by side those of all kinds of faiths.