#being able to do things that could be considered controversial or create things anonymously as a very public figure is rather important

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

@inblueee2, here's your explanation. I apologize that this took longer than expected, I had extenuating circumstances that prevented me from researching this further yesterday, and this was also a greater undertaking than I expected. However, I appreciate that you asked, because your reply got me to look a bit deeper into this situation and get a better understanding of the legality behind this all.

(btw super sorry if I messed anything up here, law is not my specialty and while I researched this to hell and back please take it with a grain of salt)

Please Note: This is based on law in the United States of America. I have neither the fluency, the connections, the money, nor the trust in Google's translation to give a cohesive summary of Mexico's laws regarding this. If you would like that, I'll direct you to mokkacat's post that delves into that a bit more; they are Mexican, and are able to give a better analysis of that then I can.

I’ll summarize it up here, but if you want a more in depth explanation then I’ll direct you below the cut.

The Beneficial Ownership Information act requires business owners, alongside anyone who owns more than 25% of a company, to give the information of the owner to the United States government. However, this information is kept in a private and secure database. It is not public, and Quackity was within his rights to keep his identity concealed regardless of if he is a private business owner. Léa's leak of information could fall under doxing, an illegal act in California, Mexico, and France. Because this is an international situation, it’s not as clear cut as I’d like. California defines doxing by the intent of the doxer (i.e. did Léa want to cause Quackity fear for his safety/physical harm/harassment towards him and his family), however Mexico and France appear to not. If Léa intended to dox Quackity, then her actions were undoubtedly illegal. If not, then it's a bit messier. Quackity will most likely not sue Léa.

Anyway: a cut, for the in depth explanation with sources and everything. Because this is long.

Pre-emptive apologies and forewarnings: I am neither a law student nor a lawyer or legal advisor. If I misunderstand anything or misconstrue the facts and evidence then I apologize, but this is what I have gathered. I have researched this to the best of my abilities in the time allotment that I gave myself, and no falsehood written here is purposeful, however I would not be surprised if there are mistakes made. The general concept remains the same throughout. 

This is the law of the United States of America, and in some places, specifically the law of the state of California. These laws may not apply to the same extent, or at all, if the following are true: if Quackity Studios is registered in Mexico, if Quackity's current primary residence is in Mexico, if Quackity is only a citizen of Mexico and not the United States of America, or if Quackity does not have any sort of green card or worker's visa. I don't know the stipulations of him living in the United States, nor will I vigorously search, as it feels intrusive. I am not familiar in any way, shape, or form with the laws of Mexico. As I don't know where in Mexico it would be registered, I cannot find administrative district/state specific laws. Again, it would feel like a breach of privacy to search for this, so I am leaving it be. Refer to mokkacat’s post for information there, if you would like. 

I'm going to start from the ground up here. Any website owned and operated by the government of the United States of America has the top-level domain of .gov at the end of the URL, where you would otherwise find .com, .edu, or .gov. This can only be used by an official government organization in the United States of America (for example, the National Park Service, the U.S. Department of the Treasury, those types of things). The French equivalent to this looks to be .gouv.fr. The important thing here is that this information is, without a single doubt, verifiably accurate to the current state of the legal system and laws in the United States of America. You cannot fake it. You can fact check this by going to almost any .gov website and clicking at the top, where it says, "An official website of the United States government Here's how you know"

This is relevant information.

Now, the United States of America has a government website called Financial Crimes Enforcement Network. This website deals with, as the name suggests, financial crimes, alongside general financial information. It is a subset of the United States Treasury, and is undeniably a reliable source for information about current United States laws. One of the important, recent regulations put into place by the FinCEN involves Beneficial Ownership Information (BOI). Among other things, the BOI requires the owners (alongside anyone with 25+% ownership) of most companies registered in the United States of America to submit information regarding the identity of its primary owner. There is some nuance here, depending on how the company operates, and what exactly its actions entail (for example, accounting firms and government agencies can be exempt from this). Given the nature of Quackity Studios, however, this is most likely the law that applies.

The important thing here is that while the information of the company's owner must be provided to the government, this information is kept private from the public. 

"Beneficial ownership information reported to FinCEN will be stored in a secure, non-public database using rigorous information security methods and controls typically used in the Federal government to protect non-classified yet sensitive information systems at the highest security level." - Beneficial Ownership Information Reporting Frequently Asked Questions

"Section 6403 further requires FinCEN to maintain this information in a confidential, secure, and non-public database, and it authorizes FinCEN to disclose the information to certain government agencies for certain purposes specified in the CTA, and to financial institutions to assist in meeting their customer due diligence obligations. In both cases, these disclosures are subject to appropriate protocols to protect confidentiality." - Beneficial Ownership Information Reporting Requirements

Within the United States of America, Quackity has a legal right to conceal his full name and specific identity from the public, regardless of whether or not he is the owner of a company or corporation registered in the nation. There are specific circumstances in which this confidentiality can be broken. Those are noted in the quote above (due diligence obligations and disclosure to certain government agencies). However, to my knowledge, Léa’s leak of Quackity’s personal information would not qualify as one of these moments of allowed breach, nor would that confidentiality have been broken in the correct manner.

It is established that Quackity was within his rights in the United States of America to conceal his identity from the public, but the more important question here is: why would Léa leaking his personal information be illegal? Here, I believe it gets a bit more messy.

It depends on how you view this situation. In this situation, I am using California's laws. Laws about doxing vary from state to state, and likely differ from nation to nation. If you want Mexico-specific laws, then I recommend, again, going to mokkacat's post. They have more information here than me. However, because Quackity lives at least a fair portion of his time every year in the state of California, this will focus on the laws there.

The law itself is straightforward: California Penal Code 653.2, "Every person who, with intent to place another person in reasonable fear for his or her safety, or the safety of the other person’s immediate family, by means of an electronic communication device, and without consent of the other person, and for the purpose of imminently causing that other person unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment, by a third party, electronically distributes, publishes, e-mails, hyperlinks, or makes available for downloading, personal identifying information, including, but not limited to, a digital image of another person, or an electronic message of a harassing nature about another person, which would be likely to incite or produce that unlawful action, is guilty of a misdemeanor punishable by up to one year in a county jail, by a fine of not more than one thousand dollars ($1,000), or by both that fine and imprisonment."

Vista Criminal Law, a website ran by registered Criminal Defense Attorney, Peter M. Liss, lists examples of doxing (violations of California Penal Code 653.2) as the following:

full name

address

phone number

social security number

email address

workplace details

financial records

family information

other personal information

The important question here is whether or not Léa posted that information with the intent of placing Quackity in reasonable fear for his safety or the safety of his family and imminently causing Quackity unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment. Hence why I am iffy about this. If Léa intended for that information to lead to the harassment of Quackity or his family; what she did was illegal. If Léa did not intend for the information to lead to the harassment of Quackity or his family, and what she did was a pure mistake on her part, then what she may have not been illegal in the state of California. This conclusion this would be different if you follow the laws of other nations, i.e. France or Mexico, because they have different laws surrounding doxing, but I’m focusing on California. 

Léa caused Quackity reasonable fear for his safety, the safety of his family; unwanted physical contact, injury, or harassment. The most important thing here is intent.

To my knowledge, though I am hesitant on this, as I am not fluent or anywhere close to that in French, France forbids the act of doxing as well. Under LOI n° 2021-1109 du 24 août 2021 confortant le respect des principes de la République (1) Article 36, doxing is forbidden. "« Art. 223-1-1.-Le fait de révéler, de diffuser ou de transmettre, par quelque moyen que ce soit, des informations relatives à la vie privée, familiale ou professionnelle d'une personne permettant de l'identifier ou de la localiser aux fins de l'exposer ou d'exposer les membres de sa famille à un risque direct d'atteinte à la personne ou aux biens que l'auteur ne pouvait ignorer est puni de trois ans d'emprisonnement et de 45 000 euros d'amende."

It is difficult to define how laws work between nationalities and nations; this is something that actual lawyers and legal teams can find themselves struggling with. It is also difficult when these laws are defined by intent. The most important point here is that people argue that Léa's leak of information was illegal because Quackity had a right to retain the privacy of his personal information; and it falls under doxing, an illegal act, in both California and France. 

However, the bottom line is intent is the most important thing here, and I genuinely have no clue whether French, American, or Mexican laws would apply when it comes to the dox. If Mexican or French laws apply, then it appears that Léa’s actions were illegal. If Californian laws apply, then intent would have to be defined, and that is difficult. If it was intentional, Léa committed a crime. If it was a pure mistake, then it can be summarized by saying it's complicated.

So there you go. I’m sure that there was at least one mistake in this, so I recommend taking it all with a grain of salt, but that’s my best summary of why people are arguing that Léa’s actions were illegal. I'm not sure how to end this; I've done way too much research on this topic for my own good, but I can't be mad at understanding more than I did when I started looking into this. I really hope this made sense, if you read all the way to the end, lmao. This is, like, 2,000 words.

I don't know how to phrase this any better, but I seriously think that Léa needs to get a lawyer or legal advisor and step away from Twitter for a moment. I get that she feels a moral obligation to provide fans and former fans with a constant flow of all the information that she has available (which is an important thing, and she has been the main source of inside information since this all happened), and I know that she likely cannot pay for a lawyer herself on account of the fact that this whole issue arose because she (alongside others) were not getting paid.

However, regardless of whether or not leaking Quackity's personal information was a purely human mistake rendered lesser on account of the labor laws broken by him and his studio (in her own tweets, as her own argument), it should not have happened. Bottom line is that she rushed to provide the internet with information about the situation, and she made her argument, her voice, and her credibility lesser as a result of that.

Not only did she do what could be argued as a crime in more than one nation (though I am a bit iffy here; I am not a law graduate or student of any sort), but she directly harmed Quackity, and possibly his family, who had no part in this situation.

Her need to get information out as quickly as she can as the inside force led to this massive mistake, and no matter how you want to frame it (because it is still a mistake), it really should not have happened. It harmed both Léa and Quackity (though I would stand to argue one more than the other), and it could have been avoided if there was someone else working behind the scenes, or if Léa had simply checked the screenshot over a few times before posting it.

I'm not certain how to end this post, but I've thought this for a long time. This is a legal situation in which she is one of the primary witnesses. With such a large part of this playing out on Twitter, in a borderline trial of public appeal (not sure how much better I can phrase this, because such a massive part is involving the opinion of fans) she needs to understand how important and influential her words are, and how catastrophic it can be to both her cause and Quackity's if she messes up.

[poisonfallen]

Your take on cancel culture and stan culture?

Oh boy, oh boy, it's happening.

Alright, let's talk about toxic people on the internet. And keep in mind that my opinion goes beneath the mcyt community. I feel the same about the kpop community and any other community that is famous for having lots of toxic people. 

Also, keep in mind that this is my opinion about these topics, I don’t intend to offend or misinform anybody. I might be wrong, and if I am wrong indeed, please help me correct any mistake that I’ve done.

Cancel culture

Before ranting about its toxicity, let's understand what it actually means and how it works.

What is cancel culture? 

Well, according to Wikipedia, “cancel culture or call-out culture is a modern form of ostracism in which someone is thrust out of social or professional circles – whether it be online, on social media, or in person” (source). 

Basically, cancel culture is the process of ceasing offering support to a public figure after saying or doing something that is considered objectionable or offensive. 

In theory, cancel culture is a good thing that helps the victims speak up and properly defend themselves, as well as preventing other people from doing the same mistakes. No harm done to innocent people, just a way of saying why a certain person or a certain company has done something that really hurt a category of people. Some even say that it’s an exercise of free speech.

However, while a culture that encourages calling out inappropriate behaviour is important, a culture that is quick to cancel and reluctant to forgive is something that divides the internet and starts wars in the trial of defending an opinion that is not shared by every single person on the internet, thus becoming the thing that its purpose is to defeat. (a vicious cycle of hatred)

So why is it toxic?

From my point of view, I don’t think that cancel culture is a toxic thing in theory. But the way people actually use it is what concerns (and bothers) me. 

In its current form, anonymous and fuelled by negative emotions, cancel culture has the power to destroy a person’s career in a matter of minutes. There are no gray areas, just the white and black pack mentality: “I am right and you are wrong”. 

The subject of the cancelation becomes “cancelled” for disagreeing with a certain opinion, and the cancelled one feels like the whole world is hating them. No one can argue that going through a cancellation, no matter how big or small it is, can severely affect one’s mental health and leave them scarred for life. 

Cancel culture, at this point, is bullying someone famous without facing the consequences. We are already used to surf the web and stumble across someone’s cancelation over something that not even in our wildest dreams we would be able to imagine otherwise. 

I think that all of us are familiar with a stupid cancelation, like canceling someone over a burger that somehow became the sole reason of obesity (see: Dream MrBeast burger). We can’t help but laugh at people trying to cancel someone for a stupid reason. 

But, unfortunately, not all of our cancelations are stupid or laughable. There are people cancelled over their physical aspect or them not being political active, people cancelled over being friends with certain people or over saying something that is now considered to be slightly offensive a few years ago. The ones who are under the spotlight can’t make jokes or take decisions by themselves, they are supposed to be the marionettes of their fans. 

(I do not intend to say that all cancelations are bad, but I’m trying to highlight how the majority of the most recent cancelations are out of place. If someone actually tries to actively harm your minority, your beliefs etc. you should call out that inappropriate behaviour, but without purposely harming that person as a means of payback) 

There is also a toxic behaviour that I’ve noticed in a cancelation: the “I forgive you”/”I don’t forgive you” phrase used by people who have no right to do so. If you are part of the minority who has been hurt, then you have every right to forgive or not someone for saying or doing something hurtful towards your minority. 

But if you are not a part of that minority, shut the f*** up. By speaking on behalf of a minority while you aren’t part of that minority you take away the right of actually addressing the issue from the people who are part of that minority. You can support them from the sides and let them express their pain with their own voice. They perfectly capable of addressing the issue, they need your support but not you taking the spotlight away from the actual problem.

What is my take on cancel culture?

I think that there are more civil ways of resolving an issue without actively trying to destroy someone’s career. Instead of cancelling that person, we could educate them (but not in that harmful way I’ve seen on twitter) on the subject and on why their words or actions are hurtful. 

We should remember that we are all humans and that every human makes mistakes. Don’t forget that children learn by making mistakes. And while I’m well aware that we are not talking about children here, you should also be well aware that we are talking about actual humans with feelings. 

Cancelation should be the last weapon we use, but only if that person refuses to give an apology and educate themselves on the subject. 

Overall, don’t. Just don’t cancel people. Don’t attack people on the internet. Don’t try to harm people on the internet. 

Some of you might disagree with my opinion and I’m open to criticism as long as you can help me educate more on the subject.

Now let’s move on to the other topic

Stan culture

Before I start talking about this one, I’d like to point out that stans actually scare me, a lot. 

What is stan culture?

“Stan culture describes an online phenomenon in which communities of stalker fans, or stans, engage in overly enthusiastic support of a favorite celebrity online (called “stanning”), including at times vehement, coordinated attacks against detractors and critics” (source). 

Basically stan = stalker + fan. 

There are also people who say that the word stan comes from Eminem’s song “Stan” which tells the story of a crazed fan. I do recommend listening to the lyrics of this song if Eminem is not your cup of tea, it’s a good intake in what stan culture was at the beginning of 2000′s.

To be honest, I don’t have anything more to add at this section. Anything more I’d say would, in the end, be the same as what was already stated. (but you can see my opinion on it with more comments at the end)

It stan culture toxic?

You have to live under a rock if you had never seen a stan on twitter or tumblr. You usually recognize them by their profile pictures, the content they share, their posts and their ready to argue behaviour in case you insult or disagree with the ones they worship. 

I’d like to point out that there is a fine line between a stan and a fan: stans know no length when it comes to defending their object of worship and often have really toxic ways of expressing their opinions, while a fan is there just to enjoy their favourite content without engaging in harmful discussion and hate speeches. 

This topic is filled with controversy. In essence, stanning should be a means of showing support. The majority of them don’t even realize the toxicity they spread only after leaving the fandom. 

The real problem here is the moment when they engage in conflicts without entertaining the thought that they might be wrong. Anything they do is right and their object of worship can say or do no mistake. This extends to the point of sending death threats and even doxxing. 

For those who don’t know about doxxing, short for dropping dox: doxxing is an internet slang that means to publish personal information (of an individual) on the internet. You can find more about it here.

With no intend to disrespect or disregard one’s religious beliefs, you can say that stanning is like being part of a religion. The stans are the extremist people who practice that religion, while the fans are those who practice it from time to time (eg. like a Christian who goes to Church only on Christmas and Easter - me). 

In the end, stan culture is toxic to both the stans and celebrities. 

Is there a connection between stan culture and cancel culture?

They are both toxic internet cultures, this one is right for sure.

From what I’ve noticed during my short timed stay on twitter, a lot of cancelations are made by stans from the same community or different communities. 

I’m part of mcyt community, so I’ve seen a lot of Dream fans and Dream antis fighting over the past months, trying to cancel each other and harm each other. It’s mental seeing people actively trying to do these kind of things just because they love or hate a certain person. Of course that we can’t tie the situation to a certain content creator. 

I know that his also happens a lot in the kpop community where stans are in a constant fight to destroy the career of each other’s favourite idol group or bias (someone's most favorite member of an idol group). 

What is my take on stan culture?

I feel like I need to repeat myself: stans scare the s*** out of me. 

It’s like their sole purpose in life is to support someone and don’t have the basic sense of boundaries. A lot of problems arise with this: like shipping people who are uncomfortable being shipped with, intense sexualizing (sexualizing the minors is the worst from my point of view), creating drama and intentionally ignoring real world problems just to make their favourite person(s) trend, and the list is so long that I feel like I’d create a record on tumblr for the longest post if I go on. 

We are talking about some weird adaptation of Lord of the Flies where children raise each other on the internet. It’s like a cult and they are brainwashed into believing what everybody else thinks. And the worst part is that I don’t think we’ll ever get better from this, things are only going south to heaven. 

I might be wrong and biased, so I do expect someone to help me understand these topics better, but for now these are my firm opinions. 

I’d also like to clarify, once again, that in the religion example I’m not making fun of Christianity, I’m just using it as a means to help people better understand my point.

[trutimeline]

idislikecispeople, The Most Infamous Dyscourse Blogger: Part 1.0, Rumors

idislikecispeople, also known as many names throughout her time on Tumblr (such as Adele, Kat, Mami, Samantha and Sayaka), was a former Tumblr blogger who became infamous for coining the term "tucute", among many other controversial things she has posted on her blogs. This was supposed to be one, very long masterpost about her, but Tumblr's post editor is a bitch and won't let me do that.

In this post, I'll be debunking or confirming rumors commonly spread about idislikecispeople. The rest of my posts about her will each be dedicated to a specific controversial belief she held or situations she got into. For simplicity's sake, I'll be referring to idislikecispeople as Kat for the rest of this post and future ones.

Rumors

Kat Coined the Terms "Truscum" and "Tucute"

Verdict: Partially True

Kat coined the term tucute, but she did not coin the terms truscum or transmedicalist.

Here's a screenshot of Kat's original definition of a tucute:

Transcript:

What is Tucute?

What does tucute mean?

Tucute is basically just the opposite of truscum, it’s a term and community for trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis individuals created to separate anti-truscum from truscum and to serve as a safe place from truscum and from cis people, where they believe that being trans requires dysphoria, we do not,where they think that being trans is a medical condition, we do not,and where they deny numerous gender identities on the basis that it “discredits the trans community” we do not.

What are the prerequisites to be a part of the tucute community?

You have to be trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis in general

You have to accept all pronouns and gender identities

You haveto believe that dysphoria is not necessary to be trans

You have to dislike truscum

You cannot side with truscum or believe in their ideology

You cannot misgender anyone no matter how mad they make you

You cannot be an ableist whatsoever

Did you invent the tucute community? Why?

I indeed did coin the tucute term and community and anyone who says otherwise are creeps who are trying to steal it from me and redefine it for their own nefarious doings. I started this community so anti-truscum could separate themselves from truscum and cis people who are a part of the truscum community, it serves as a safe space from both truscum and cis people.

I’m cis, can I be tucute if I believe in your movement and want to help?

No, you can’t be tucute if you’re cis, you can only be a tucute ally, and you need to be sure to never speak for or over a trans person.

I see a lot of tucuties being just as harmful as truscum, what will you do about it?

There isn’t much I can do to them other than ask them to stop aligning with the tucute community, and of course, that doesn’t mean they will. Also be noted that truscum and cis people will pretend to be tucute just to tarnish the name of the tucute community, so tread lightly, you might be talking to a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Spread the word, use the tag #tucute and join the army today!

[A digital drawing of Sayaka Miki from Puella Magi Madoka Magica in her magical girl form, with a banner underneath her reading "Tucute 4 U!"]

(source) (source)

Kat Was a Cisgender Woman Who Lied About Being a Transgender Woman

Verdict: False

This rumor primarily comes from a post on Kat's oldest known Tumblr blog, chromaghost, where she claims that she wasn't MTF and only tagged a selfie as such because she thought that transgender people were "cool".

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: are you a mtf? i seen it tagged on one of your photos.

No lol. I wanted to post it to the tag because transgender people are cool :3

(source) (source) (source)

However, Kat addressed this post and made it clear she very much was a transgender woman multiple times on her later blogs. This claim can also be confirmed with nude photos Kat posted online, which I don't feel comfortable spreading, so you'll just have to trust me on that one. I also don't feel comfortable directly encouraging you to go and dig up those nudes, as most of her nude photos were either taken when she was a minor, spread without her consent and/or were uploaded because people pressured her into posting nudes to "prove" she was a transgender woman.

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: you bound with ace bandage in one of your selfies. i don't know what to think about you anymore. according to some people you're a 27 year old cis woman scamming us, but you say you're a 22 year old trans woman. i want to trust you but i don't know if i can. i'm sorry.

Rest assured I’m not 27 years old lol. What you’re referring to is a less than graceful ~art piece~ we did (”Playing a Boy” or something) on deviantART when we were 16/17 (?) and really ill-informed. I ask you to not take that as how I stand currently – as I have learned so much more since, and I have a penis and I was designated male at birth because of it (feel free to purchase a passcode to our nsfw blog to see for yourself). At the time we were developing breast tissue but still had to appear as a ‘boy.’ Don’t bind with Ace bandages, kids, it can damage your rib cage, something we didn’t know at the time.

(source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of two prescriptions, estradiol and spironolactone, both prescribed to Adele Sheffield.]

grandtran still gonna think I photoshopped it or what

(source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: In other words, you aren't gonna cough up the pics because you know you can't fake that shit because you're actually cis. Cool. BTW why do you keep changing your story about the blog, and if the blog was run by you when you were in denial about being trans because of self hate, why were the pics tagged mtf and you were constantly saying trans people were cool?

Yeah I’m not gonna do something for y’all and get nothing in return except more doubt from you, you see how one sided that kind of request is? Also its technically considered sexual harassment, just because its on the internet, you’re a coward (whats your username btw?), and you think I’m cis and you want me to prove time and time again to you that I’m dmab doesn’t justify sexually soliciting someone when they’re not comfortable in being solicited – for free no less.

At first I genuinely had no memory of that blog, it was only active for all of 2 months and for some reason I moved onto a new email and new tumblr, and I haven’t the foggiest why. As for the whole “me claiming to not be ~mtf~” I don’t have any memories from that time, I can only assume it was a lot of dysphoria fueled self-hatred and wanting to be seen/pass as a cis girl lesbian.

If you’re really gonna solicit nudes from a trans woman (a second time) as they do sex work to try and stay on their feet without offering anything in return just so your transmisogynistic ass can get off to trying to tell me my dick is fake isn’t classy at all. I perish the thought of what you’re parents would think of this behavior from you. But yeah, feel free to send some money to my paypal so I can get the gender markers on my records changed because that’s gonna cost a lot apparently, and I’ll definitely send you the dick pics you want. :)

(source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of a a hospital bracelet on Kat's wrist. The patient's name is Adele Sheffield and her sex is labeled as "M".]

(source)

Kat Lied About Having Diabetes To Get Money From Tumblr Users

Verdict: False

This doesn't need much commentary from me, just view the screenshots below.

Transcript:

To the people who keep harping on me buying a $15 video game for my mental health 7 MONTHS ago “with my donation money,” well, here you go, some proof, links and screenshots provided

So for everyone spreading misinformation about me spending $15 on a video game for my mental health, here’s a full list of reasons why there is no way, shape, or form I spent my paypal money on it:

Yes, I spent $15 of my own money after selling one of my possessions, not denying it:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she shows off a copy of Fall Out: New Vegas, marked with a price of $14.99. The date of the post is marked as July 21, 2014 at 06:28.39 PM.]

Be sure to look at the date, July 21st, 2014 6:28 PM. Now lets look at my first donation post asking for help:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she asks for donations to be able to afford insulin because she has no insurance. The date of the post is marked as July 20, 2014 at 08:14.00 PM.]

Hmm, one day before the purchase of said game, July 20th 2014 at 8:14 PM. Now, I’ve never heard of a video game store — much less a non-chain video game store accepting payment for video games in the form of virtual Amazon gift cards, have you? Oh, but you’re gonna say, “well you bought the game with your paypal donations anyway!” Well, here’s exhibit C:

[Another screenshot of a separate post made by Kat where she is also asking for donations to be able to afford insulin. The date of the post is marked as July 23, 2014 at 12:27.46 PM.]

Again, looking at the date of this posting which is the original donations post, you can see it was posted on July 23rd, 2014 at 12:27 PM, a full 2 days after I had bought the game. Now, if there’s no way for me to use Amazon gift cards for a real life video game store, then how can I go back in time a minimum of 2 full days to give past me $15 to buy said game, hm? This isn’t even accounting for the fact that I didn’t even have my own bank account associated with it until over a week later, and it surely doesn’t account for the fact that it takes up to 5 days to transfer from paypal to your bank account. All the dates are linked to the original unedited posts so you can see for yourself, and for added measure my first deposit was on August 14th, 2014:

[A screenshot of a deposit made by Kat. The date is marked as 08/14/14.]

Oh but yeah, anti-sjs, truscum, and the like took damniwishidthoughtofabettername’s postthey used to gaslight us with misinformation and you all bought it. Tell me how I could misuse donations that I could not use outside of Amazon and money I didn’t even start receiving until a full two days later, let alone the fact that there’s no way I could have transferred said money and used it two days prior as of the date of the paypal donations post.

I hope some of y’all could reblog this and get the word out, I’m sick and tired of people buying into that misinformation that person did solely to gaslight me as a means to try and disrupt my donations drive.

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A selfie of Kat holding up a vial of Novolin to the camera.]

Hey anon, I don’t feel comfy giving you my receipts (because doxxing is a thing) but here you go, a selfie with my most recent insulin purchase. 👽

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: Getting desperate for money again I see. How is your fake diabetes lately. I bet your blood sugar is like 800 this time and you're still able to be alive somehow.

You got me, I’m ~totally faking~

[A selfie of Kat. In the background several items used by diabetics are seen such as insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.]

[A picture that gives us a closer look at the background of the previous selfie.]

[A selfie of Kat holding up two vials, one of Lantus and the other of Humalog.]

Gee, must be one dedicated faker, right? To have hundreds of dollars of insulin equipment and insulin itself. Hmmm… Insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.. oh and insulin, hmmmm….

Oh and because you didn’t learn from last time you don’t die instantly when your blood sugar goes over 600 lol, something anyone who studies endocrinology can tell you, and I would know, being a diabetic, having to be hospitalized numerous times for ketoacidosis where the blood sugar has been too high for too long. Things you clearly do not know and you’re just jumping on the disableist bandwagon. I have an idea of who you are anyway, just doing this for future reference.

(source)

[ukrfeminism]

Hi all,

As you all know, I’m attempting to organise irl meetings for UK-based radfems - you can find the anonymous survey I’ve made on the topic here:

Thank you so much to those of you who have already filled it in! The (soft) deadline is the 12th April.

I’ve received a couple of queries on whether girls under 18 will be able to attend these meetings. I’m sorry, but I think the answer has to be no. The reasons for this are as follows:

Most importantly, teenagers should not be meeting strangers off the internet, particularly adult strangers. You’re fundamentally vulnerable, and I do not want to establish or contribute to a precedence that could put you at risk. Any adult that is willing to meet a teenager off the internet is at least being dismissive of that teenager’s safety, and may intend very real harm to them. Please believe me when I say I am not dismissing the strength of your feeling or your ability, but prioritising your well-being.

Also, if any harm were to come to you, even if you were on the way to or from a meeting at the time, I would (most likely) be vulnerable to legal charges. I am not an organisation, with all the safeguarding guidelines and legal support that entails - I’m just a person, who doesn’t want to get sued.

Finally, I believe that getting teenagers directly involved in social change, particularly of the sort that is relatively controversial (i.e. feminist) is irresponsible. Your teen years are supposed to be a time where you are focusing inwards, discovering your identity and learning how to be a person around people. Social change may be a central part of that identity going forwards, but you should not be expected to begin to contribute directly to those efforts until you are an adult - it’s overwhelming even to those of us who aren’t also going through puberty. You’ve got enough on your plate.

I know that you want to contribute to making a difference, and the final point above is absolutely not denying your right to do so. However, there are ways of doing so that are more accessible, reasonable, and safe for you. In fact, there are some elements of feminist work that may be more effective if you do them now, than as an adult. To that end, I’ve put together a list of things you could consider doing, right now, to contribute to feminist change (then you can become a bra burning, hell-raising, placard-waving feminist vigilante once you hit eighteen, with my blessing). So, without any further ado:

Feminist Action for Teenagers

Consciousness raising. The way women and girls’ lives are entwined with men means we often aren’t aware of the way sexism affects us, or the patterns that underlie our experiences. Talking with other girls about your thoughts and experiences, as well as their own, will enable all of you to have more awareness and deeper understanding. It will also give you ideas for ways to enact change, and create communities so you can uplift each other. Talk to your friends, classmates, family members, girls you know from activities or groups, and create safe spaces for them to talk to you and each other about their lives.

Create feminist groups and clubs. This might be a formal club at or after school, or just putting aside some time to sit with other girls and discuss as a group rather than one on one. If there are girls who’ve shown particular interest when you’ve spoken about sexism, consider forming a group. This is especially good if it gets you out of your usual ‘cliques’ and creates new connections between people. There is strength in numbers - if you decide you want to commit to some form of action, like the suggestions in this list or something else you come up with, it will be more manageable for you, and impactful, if there are multiple girls involved.

Fundraise for feminist causes. Funding is hugely important for charities and other organisations that support women and girls. If there is a particular cause you want to support, raising money for it is a great way of doing so. You could do a bake sale at school, organise a non-uniform day with a small charge, do a sponsored head shave or 5k run, and donate the proceeds. This could be an opportunity to get other girls involved in action, and it also looks great on future job/volunteering/college/university applications, since it shows your passion and drive. Best of all, the money can be used to make a difference. To that end, think carefully about the group you wish to support - a large charity may be able to do more with the money, since they have more reach, but it may make more of a difference for small grassroots organisations. Check out Rosa UK for a direct route to fund small organisations.

Work hard at school. We know that women are underrepresented in STEM careers, which impacts all of us. After all, if more women were involved in engineering, maybe cars wouldn’t be designed with male bodies in mind, and women would be less at risk from car accidents (see - Invisible Women, Caroline Criado-Perez). If you have an interest in science or maths, consider leaning into it and learning more, to see whether it might be an interesting career for you one day. If you’re more inclined to the arts and humanities, consider how you could use these topics to help women and girls one day. Also, we know that girls are far less likely to exercise and be fit, so try and make this a priority for you. If there is something holding you back (does your school not offer any sports you’re interested in? Do you feel uncomfortable changing or in your sports gear? Would you prefer sex segregated lessons or more team or individual sports?) consider pushing for this to be changed. Ally with other girls who feel the same, approach teachers and your families for support, and petition school management.

Read. If you come across a feminist book that looks interesting, consider borrowing it from your local library, or school library. If it isn’t available, your library may have a system to request new books. Doing this not only means that book is free to you, it also means it’s accessible for other girls, even long after you’ve left school. If something you’ve read hits home for you, recommend it to other girls, or share a review of it online - you could even start a feminist book club.

Volunteer. There are many opportunities for teenagers to volunteer, in charity shops, nursing homes, or to support causes directly. Not only does this mean you’re contributing to change, it also gives you an opportunity to connect with women from other age groups and backgrounds, and again looks great on future applications. Make sure any charity you volunteer with has a thorough safeguarding scheme, consider volunteering with a buddy, and if any mental alarm bells ring you are fully within your right to stop immediately - your safety is the highest priority.

Take care of yourself. The first person your feminism should uplift is you. Eat well, move around lots, and listen to your body. If you’re getting overwhelmed, drop the things you don’t have to do (or pass them on to someone else), and ask for help. Missing a couple of homework assignments or taking a day off school every once in a while will have negligible impact on your future (though don’t make it a habit). Make sure you get plenty of rest. Look after your teeth, get your eyes tested, and if you’re struggling with your health, go to the doctor (they’ve seen it all before).

Live your politics. If you don’t approve of paedophillic beauty standards, don’t shave your body hair. If you dislike using makeup to appear different, don’t use it. If you don’t like time-consuming hair care, chop it off. Alternatively, if all those things are too non-conforming for you, do what you can to minimise guilt/cognitive dissonance. For instance, you might only shave your legs when they will be exposed from changing for PE. You might wear concealer, but not a full face of makeup. You might keep your hair up and functional. This will probably be the time of your life when you are most aware and concerned about other people’s opinions, so it’s ok if it bothers you - as long as you don’t join in by criticising yourself (or others).

Protest (as long as it is safe to do so). If you can get an adult to accompany you, go to marches and vigils you feel strongly about. If you can’t, consider posting your support online. Share petitions for causes you care about among family, neighbours, and other adults you know, even if you aren’t old enough to sign them yet. Don’t cross picket lines, and boycott companies that you take issue with - and be sure to communicate this to the people around you.

If anyone else can add any suggestions for teen-accessible feminism, please do, particularly any successes you know of. Thank you for reading!

[akinnie75]

White Hibernation

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 31k...lol

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Extreme Slow Burn, Fantasy

Summary: The tale of the Winter Bear is about a grizzly bear that’s the only bear in the entire world who doesn’t hibernate during winter. He’s considered strong for being able to fight sleep. However, being the only bear awake during winter gets lonely. So during every winter, he makes friends with children and takes their soul to be with him forever. And somewhere down the line, you get involved into the fable.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?!”

Your agent, Lee Suniya, screams from the top of her lungs on the other side of the call. You keep your phone at a safe distance from your ears. You sigh exasperatedly, standing in the center of the living of your cramped, one-bedroom apartment.

Despite Suniya’s aggressive scolding, you only focus on your apartment. It’s early in the morning, never realizing how blue your apartment is. It isn’t necessarily a bold blue, more so a faint blue, naturally peeking through your blinds due to the sunrise barely at its peak. All of your furniture—couch, coffee table, vase, lamp—is white, so it only makes the baby blue stand out more.

Maybe I should change my place up a little, you think to yourself.

However, your plans for redecorating your place are disrupted by the continuous rampage coming from Suniya. Her anger only worsens your annoyance toward her. “Did you not hear a single thing I said?! Is your head empty??”

“No, can you repeat everything?”

Suniya groans frustratedly then goes silent for a few seconds before returning. “Never mind. Did you at least look online?”

Your eyes move down to your laptop that’s sitting by the edge of the white, pristine coffee table. It’s on, and it’s an article called: ‘Winter Bear’: Profiting off of a Child’s Innocence. Underneath the title is the author, (Y/N), (L/N).

“Yea, just a few minutes ago.”

“So. You knew not to write that. But why did you go ahead and do it anyway?” Suniya tries very hard not to grind her teeth, but you can clearly hear it.

You take a seat on the couch right across from your laptop. You set your phone down, putting it on speaker as you scroll through the multitudes of angry comments. There are some that catch your eye, such as ‘How could you write garbage about my daughter’s favorite movie?’, ‘You didn’t even watch the movie so your opinion is fucking pointless without proper research’, and another one being, ‘Go die in a shithole, you fucking mood-killer’.

You’ve always heard about internet figures getting a lot of online flak these days, but your article exploded out of nowhere that you haven’t gotten the time to process the negative comments. Even your email is spammed with anonymous accounts calling you degrading terms.

But another reason why it doesn’t impact you as much as it should is because it was somewhat expected. Winter Bear is a beloved, rated-PG movie that people of all ages should enjoy, but your article made it very apparent that you detest it.

“Yea, I knew not to write it, but what’s the point of me making it my career as a writer when I can’t even share my own opinions?”

“You—” But before your agent can lash out any further, she catches herself. “You��re not a writer, you’re a journalist. Writers create from inspiration, journalists rephrase what they see. Are you seriously trying to give the publication a bad rep?”

“You’re not getting the point of the article. No one is. It’s a cash-grabbing movie using a dangerous folklore—”

“I get it, I get it. But where I’m coming from is that the publishing company has no time to be dealing with a bad image at this moment. They were just getting recognized, and you just had to blow it off like that.”

“That wasn’t my intention. Look, why are people even getting pissed off over one person’s opinion? They don’t have to read my shit if they don’t want to and go enjoy their half-assed children’s movie.”

It’s at this point where Suniya has completely given up on arguing with you. Both you and Suniya are stubborn to the core, and this is how you two clash often.

“It isn’t just about a bad public image for the company, but for you. You’ll have a hard time signing deals and publishing more articles.”

That comment was like a prick to your skin. There was something about that that ticked you off, more than what the internet is saying about you.

“What the hell is wrong with me sharing my thoughts? If these faceless assholes are allowed to leave comments on my article, then I can say and do whatever too!”

“(Y/N), calm down! Why are you getting upset?! Listen to me when I say this: I know where you’re coming from. I know that movie is a sensitive topic for you, but that still doesn’t mean that you should—”

“Don’t bring it up.”

The line goes silent for a while before she returns. “Alright, fine. On the bright side, this seems like a short-term consequence, so the most we can do is wait for this to die down. I gotta go, I’ll call you later.”

She hangs up, and you get the urge to throw your phone across the room. However, you don’t have the kind of money to break your phone and get a new one, so instead, you throw it against the couch pillow. It’s irritating when nobody understands you. If the general public weren’t sheeples, then it would be easier for you to explain your side. Not even Suniya truly knows where you’re coming from.

You go back to your laptop, your article receiving new comments by the second. You want to respond to them and tell them to go to hell. There are more controversial topics out there in the world, so why go to your article and attack you? You’ve already caused enough trouble for your agent, so it’s better to leave it alone.

You lay down on your couch when a sudden chill runs up your spine. You check the temperature on your phone, and it’s been getting colder lately with winter getting closer.  What sort of first-world struggles are those angry commentators going through to give them the right to downgrade you?

Regret begins to play with your head, suggesting that you should call Suniya back and apologize to her for exploding. You turn on your phone, seeing four contacts on your phone: your parents, Suniya, and your publication site’s office number. You press on Suniya’s number, letting the line ring before directing to voicemail.

With a sigh of disappointment, you get off of the couch with that feeling of regret going to eat you up for the rest of the day. You try to forget about it, pushing your mind to think about something else than to focus heavily on it. You repeat to yourself over and over that you need to eat breakfast.

You look through the fridge that’s filled with only microwavable food, some vegetables, soda, and that one vegan mandarin chicken pack that you promised to eat when you were still dieting. On the bottom shelf is leftover pizza from last night. You close the fridge then rummage through the white-painted cabinets. You hand maneuvers around the canned corn and beans, packaged dry pad-thai noodles, and shoving the Maruchan cup noodles away. You grab the rainbow, fruit-flavored cereal box, opening the top to check if there’s still some. You pop one into your mouth to check if it’s still in edible condition. Although a bit stale, you can eat it.

You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted to eat leftover dinner or cereal for breakfast, so you ended up picking both. Rushing back to the fridge, you take out a slice of cold pizza and the half-gallon of milk, putting the pizza on a plate and into the microwave. It’s not the healthiest meal, but you’re not in the mood to be thinking about your weight.

As it warms up, you grab the remote from the living room, turning on the TV. You skip through channels with the press of a button until you get to a decent enough channel that’s playing a rerun of a sitcom show. It’s about a group of poor college graduates struggling to live in New York.

Your attention is taken away by your microwave beeping when it’s done reheating your pizza. You poke the pizza to make sure that the cheese has melted, then you take a bite of it. It doesn’t taste as fresh as when you first got it, but it still tastes savory.

“This...is...awesome!” A child’s voice shouts from the TV.

Dramatic drums and high-pitched violins play after the show goes on a commercial break. You turn around to see a trailer of a kids’ movie.

“Who...are you?” the child continues.

Each scene of the trailers lasts for a few seconds to keep the viewers’ short attention span engaged. On the screen is a young child who seems to be around eight or nine years old in a snowy forest. The child is on its knees, face-to-face with a shadowy monster before displaying itself as a fun, lovable grizzly bear licking the child’s face.

“I have to return home. Can you help me?”

“Come with us...on an epic journey,” A narrator voices over. “Filled with fun...”

The child and bear jump over rocks as they laugh.

“Adventure…”

The pair find an entirely undiscovered part of the forest, though it’s just a more expanded version of the same setting that it takes place in, just brighter lighting and more sunlight.

“And friendship.”

The next scene is when the child and the bear are cuddling together late at night to keep each other warm from the freezing temperature.

“Bears are supposed to be sleeping during winter, but you’re not,” the child ponders. “But...I’m glad that you’re awake. I don’t feel so lonely anymore.”

“Critics say ‘it’s tender’...‘entertaining’...‘everything my child has always wanted in a movie’.” The narrator continues as five yellow stars would be slapped onto a frame of an overview of the forest. “Winter Bear. Coming soon on December 20th.”

The next thing you know, you throw the pizza at the screen out of impulsive anger. The tomato sauce splatters all over the carpet, TV, and some on the coffee table. It instantly slips off the TV, landing and staining the carpet more. It felt good at that moment to lash out on the movie trailer, but not anymore after seeing the mess that you created. But once rational thinking sets in, you’re frustrated with yourself for what you’ve done. You hurriedly look for wipes then run to the TV to clean it.

As you wipe with tenacity, some uninvited memories seep in. You go back to when you were a child, holding the hand of a child whose face you can’t see, or at least, don’t want to see. The environment that surrounds you is a white forest, silence freezing every noise possible, just you and the person standing side-by-side.

You rest your forehead on the sauce-stained TV, sighing heavily as you try to forget what happened long ago. You turn to the fallen pizza, glaring at it with disdain as the red, bloody sauce soaks into what was once a white carpet that blended into the blue morning.

“He doesn’t help kids...he steals them.”

———

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), you really need to start eating healthier food. Look at your stomach, I’m beginning to see a muffin top.” Suniya jokes as she playfully hits your stomach with a pepperoni sausage.

Suniya is walking ahead of you as you push the shopping cart. She decided to tag along with you to go grocery shopping, implying that this get-together is to make up for the argument that unfolded days prior to this.

“I would eat better if the healthier options were cheaper and tasted better.”

“Hey, there are healthy foods that are cheap too, you know. You just choose not to eat it. Plus, you’re not a kid anymore. Suck it up and eat gross shit for the sake of being in shape,” This is ironic coming from Suniya, since she isn’t in the best shape either. “Maybe you should get a gym membership and start working out. Who knows, maybe you’ll start attracting people.”

“Mm-hmm,” You faintly listen to her as you’re trying to decide on which graham cracker brand you want to buy. “Oh yea, which pizza brand do you think has the least amount of tomato sauce?”

Suniya sulks, a little annoyed that you aren’t listening to her, but this is typical for you to be like that with her. “I dunno. Figure it out yourself. Why?”

“Eh,” you shrug your shoulders. “The sauce is the messiest part of the pizza. Do you think I should start eating hot pockets?”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t fucking know. Pick both if it makes it easier.”

“No, but pizza is messy. I wanna know if hot pockets are not as messy with the sauce.”

“Why does it matter? Just use a napkin or don’t eat like a toddler!”

“...I’ll go with hot pockets.”

You push the cart ahead of Suniya as she stares at you with a look of disbelief. No matter how long you two have known each other, she will never understand how your brain is wired. She shakes her head, shrugging it off as one of your unusual habits again.

“By the way, your mother called me. She said you weren’t picking up the phone and she wanted to know if you’re doing alright.”

“I’m fine.”

“...Why don’t you just call her back and tell her that?”

“I have you to pass on my message.”

“You know…” her tone deepens. “Your mom wants to talk to you directly. She wants to know how you’re doing in your voice.”

“What difference will it make? She’ll just pretend that she’s worried about me but all she’s gonna do is yell at how I can’t take care of myself and I need a new job.”

She sighs. “But she’s still your mom. You can’t forget that she raised you.”

“I’ll call her later. I have some more articles to write and I don’t need the distraction.”

But she knew that you meant never, you just wanted to end the conversation. She looks through the aisles, clearly frustrated with your lack of keeping a conversation going.

“You know, you shouldn’t worry about work so much.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s all you ever think about. Don’t you have anything else that you’re passionate about? Like, I dunno, making friends, going out, finding a boyfriend?”

“Not really. I haven’t put much thought into any of those. They’re a waste of time and money.”

“(Y/N),” she puts her hand to her hips. “Your isolation is only going to drive you even more insane. You won’t have anyone to rely on, and you’re just going to be miserable.”

A vein protrudes from your forehead, but your expression remains stagnant. “But I have you, don’t I?”

She rolls her eyes. “You can’t just rely on me. I have a family to take care of. And you should also.”

Even though you behave as if you’re ignoring her, her words bleed into your brain. You know too well that you’re getting closer to the age of settling into a life of family-hood, but it isn’t Suniya who decides what you have to do with your life. Still, what she says makes your chest ache, the desire to deny her claims of your spiral to insanity, all the while being completely aware of her concerns.

Suniya’s phone rings, so she takes it out from her purse to see an unknown number on her screen. She accepts the call, putting it to her ear.

“Hello?”

A feminine voice can be heard from the other line. Other than a ‘hi’, you can’t make what she’s saying, and Suniya’s lack of expression doesn’t help either.

“Uhm...yes. She is with me.”

An eyebrow raises, your curiosity peaking. You stare at her, squinting your eyes. She does look at you, but she doesn’t say anything to fill in the blanks.

“Sure.”

She hands the phone to you. You’re confused, looking at the phone and wondering what to do with it. She nudges it to you, so you take it.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Is this (Y/N)?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Hi, my name is Kim, and I’m calling because I read your article the other day.”

Assuming that this is an angry reader, you’re about to hang up the phone when Suniya raises her hands up, signaling for you not to. You silently sigh, putting the phone back to your ear.

“You did?”

“I did! And I absolutely loved it!”

“Oh, really?” But it takes a few seconds for you to let that sink in. “Wait, really??”

“Yes! I reread it hundreds of times, and everything you said accurately portrays exactly how I feel about the movie as well.”

You glance at Suniya, and she smiles, nodding to let you know that this isn’t a prank. You’re at a loss of words that there’s someone who genuinely enjoyed your article. No one’s ever reached out to give you compliments, so you don’t know what to say.

“Uhm, thank you.”

“It’s no big deal. I saw the feedback you received, and it seems like not a lot of people liked it. You see, I’m a mythologist. I study extensively on the Winter Bear folklore. Based on the information on your publication’s website, it doesn’t seem like you know anything about it, but you nailed every detail of the myth precisely.”

“...Yea.”

“What I wanted to talk about is that I would like you to help me with my research on the Winter Bear.”

You crease your eyebrows. “...Excuse me?”

“You see, even though I study myth, I have a strong feeling that this isn’t some mere local folklore. You seem to know a lot about it, and I would like to get to know you more. Perhaps even go to the town to investigate more about it.”

“No.” You’re about to hang up again.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

You give her a third chance, putting the phone back to your ear.

“I can compensate for your help in return! We can help each other. I’m trying to write a book and get it published before the Winter Bear movie comes out. I want to expose the real story behind, not the watered-down, kiddy version of it.”

She piques your interest. “Go on.”

“In return, I’ll help back up your article, I’ll even reference and credit you for aiding me in the research. As long as we’re able to complete the book before the release of the movie, then it’s going to be a hit. Imagine all the clicks you’re going to get in your article after my book is published. You’ll definitely make more than you can ever imagine with any ordinary article.”

“I’ve already received enough criticism as it is with just the trailer. How is a full-length movie and your book going to benefit me?”

“It’s going to be a bit...greedy of me to say, but you aren’t paid by the number of nice comments you get. You get it by how many people click on your online articles. If you ignore the negative comments, didn’t you notice that your pay got relatively higher than normal?”

As much as you don’t want to admit it, it’s true. “Yes.”

“That’s what I’m saying! That’s why we gotta get this finished before the movie. What do you say?”

You fall silent, and it makes Kim think that you actually hung up this time. Talking about the town where the tale of the Winter Bear brings up the memories again. You remember looking down at your small hands, pressing it on the snow as you knelt down. The stiffness in your hands from the cold perfectly describes how you’re feeling right now. It’s strange, when you look back to the time when you were there during winter, it was dead silent.

Your numb hands, stuck in the unforgiving snow, not a sound to comfort you in this recycling memory. It’s strange, it’s only your hands that are cold, not your knees, not your face, nothing. Are you ready to go to that place that you tried so hard to forget? Can you unveil those childhood memories?

You recall that toddler. It was only a split second, but every detail of her is vivid. That baby blue-striped dress, wearing a pink parka over it. Her tiny brown boots treading through the snow, being matted by the pure white. She turns around, and she resembles you a lot.. Her nose red and runny, yet the brimming smile on her face is the only sunlight of that gray memory. The silence is filled with her childish laughter that’s devoid of flaws, as she had yet to be tainted by the world.

“Annie.” Your past-self calls her.

“I’ll do it.”

“That’s great! Then I’ll send you an email and we can set up a day to go to the town. I look forward to working with you in the near future.”

“Yea.”

She hangs up.

“So, what did she say?”

“She wants to work with me.”

“Really?? That’s great! So, how is it going to work out?”

You aren’t entirely sure. You agreed to it on a whim without putting much thought on the consequences. Now you’re a little regretful for saying yes, especially since you don’t want anything to do with it, but since you dedicated an entire article on it, it must mean that a part of you wants to return. You don’t know how your brain works sometimes, like you go into autopilot and another force makes the decisions for you.

“We’re going to the town where that movie took inspiration from, Little Bare.”

———

At the bustling train station, Suniya helps push you through the tight crowd. You keep looking down at your phone, squinting at a picture that Kim took of herself. You’ve never met her in person and most of your conversations with her took place through phone calls and text messages. This will be the first time you’ll see her in person.

“Why the hell is the station so busy on a Tuesday?!” Suniya whines.

Standing right under the ‘Station E’ sign is Kim. She’s a lot shorter than you thought, standing at approximately 4’10”. Her black-framed glasses and messy bun along with her back slouching really gives the impression that she spends a lot of time sitting down, probably reading or researching, and you’re not far from your assumption. She’s focused on writing in her notebook, not paying attention to her surroundings whatsoever, not even caring when a salaryman bumped into her.

“Excuse me, are you Kim?”

She looks up and immediately closes her book. “Hello! You’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod.

She extends her hand out for a handshake, and you take it, taking notice of how sweaty they are. “It’s nice to finally meet you! Is that your agent?”

“Hello, I’m Suniya. We spoke on the phone before.”

“Right, I remember. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Suniya nods. “Yes. The train should be arriving soon, so do you mind if I talk to you for a bit, Miss Kim?”

“Sure.”

She pulls Kim aside, far enough from you. You know that she’s going to be talking about you, but you don’t pay too much attention to it.

“What is it that you need to talk to me about privately?”

“It’s about (Y/N).”

“Hm? What about her?”

Suniya looks at you, seeing as you’re looking down at your phone. “You see…since I’m not coming on this trip with you guys, can I request you to take care of her?”

Kim is a little taken aback, as you seemed like a fully grown adult who is capable of taking care of yourself. “Sure…”

“You see...she’s a bit...disconnected.”

She wrinkles her eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I think she has selective memory loss. She experienced some trauma that still affects her today—so much that she tends to block anything that stresses her out too much because that’s how she’s always dealt with her problems. So if she’s spacing out, then that’s why.”

From the distance, you blend well with the crowd, no different than a modern citizen focused on her phone. You don’t look lost—you look so sure of yourself like nothing disturbs you. Your outward appearance doesn’t make you sound like the description that Suniya gave.

“Selective as in, she can willingly forget things?”

She nods. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever she went through as a child, it must’ve been that bad that she doesn’t have any recollection of it. I don’t mean to scare you, but if she behaves abnormally, don’t be afraid to call me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take good care of her. If I feel comfortable working with her, then I would’ve long since canceled our plans.” She smiles.

Still, Suniya is unsure. It feels wrong, talking about you in this way.

———

On the train, you and Kim are sitting across from each other. The slight bumps create a rhythmic sound as the train speeds to your destination, and there is a lack of conversation from other passengers with the only voice being the overhead of an automated woman alerting the passengers of their next stops. You sit by the window, watching the bushes pass by faster than the mountains from a distance. Kim is on her laptop, typing at the speed of light.

“I might be prying a bit too much, but there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask.”

“Hm?”

“Have you been to Little Bare before?”

You don’t respond—you don’t even look at her.

“Sorry, I stepped over the line. I was just curious because you seem to have more information than your typical person—”

“Yea, I went there once.”

She wasn’t expecting you to answer, so she stutters with her next line of words.

“My family and I went on a road trip during winter break. We got stuck in a blizzard and stayed at the inn there until it died down.”

“Oh, that’s very interesting!” She puts it down in her notebook. “Do you remember what you did there?”

“...Not really.” You lie.

“Oh…” She clears her throat to get rid of the uncomfortable atmosphere she created. “Well...it’s a good thing we’re going back. It’ll help you regain those memories again.”

“How did you know that I went there before?”

“I just assumed because you seem to know a little more about that folklore, not the watered-down version of it.”

“Yea.”

After that, neither of you say anything. This must be what Suniya was saying when she said that you don’t look like you’re paying attention, or you’re distracted by something else. She keeps herself busy by going back to her notebook.

———

At Little Bare, you and Kim exit the train. The wind blows against your hair, giving you the chills. You put your hands in your pocket while you stare at the town that haunts you. Every building is made out of wood, and the newer ones are built from bricks. The town is so small that you can see where it ends from the other side.

“It’s so cold! It’s supposed to have its first snow tonight, so it makes sense. But holy crap...I already can’t stand it.”

The train leaves, leaving you and Kim in a town nearly desolated. It lacks human contact, not a single person in sight. And there it is again—the dead silence. It was there before, and it hasn’t left. You wouldn’t describe it as nostalgia, but a boogeyman welcoming you back to your nightmare.

“Where do we even go?”

“I think down here.”

You walk down the staircase, hearing dead leaves being crushed beneath your feet. You enter through the main entrance of the town with a tall sign towering over you and Kim that reads: ‘Welcome to Little Bare’. You inspect the town, and the buildings made out of wood have turned dark brown after soaking in morning fog and rain. Resting your hand on the walls seems like it’s enough to give you splinters. It isn’t only the buildings that show after-signs of rain, but the streets as well. There are wet patches in the street, giving off the strong scent of wet black tar.

“Is...this the right place? It looks like a ghost town.”

You shake your head. “It’s exactly the same as I remembered.”

The general store is still there the last time you were here, one of the first buildings you’ll see when you enter this place. Directly across the street is the bar, just as empty as it was in the past during the day. The only difference is that everything has aged dramatically, those twenty years taking a  toll on the town.

“Where is everybody?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no reception here because of the high elevation, so I can’t pull up a map. There’s no physical map of this place either.”

You and Kim creep into the town more, with her peeking through the large glass windows of the general store. Her eyes light up when she sees someone standing by the front cash register. An elderly man, sitting on a chair with his back slouched, reading a newspaper.

“Oh, there’s somebody there,” you point at the man. “Let’s ask them for directions.”

You both move closer to the store, and once you’re close enough, the old man notices you two. When making eye contact with you two, Kim waves her hand as a means of greeting him. Rather than returning the greeting, the elderly man grabs a broomstick and walks out of the store, raising the broom over his head and jogging right toward you two.

“Get the hell outta here before I beat your asses myself!”

You and Kim step back, raising your hands to defend yourselves. She grabs onto your arm, and you cling onto her sleeve.

“Wait, wait, wait!” She shouts. “We’re just tourists!”

“I said get outta here! We don’t need no city people here to take what’s ours!”

“We’re not here to take anything!!”

“I said get out!!”

“What’s going on?!” An overweight woman runs out of the room. “Honey! What the fucking shit are you doing?!”

The man stops and turns around, seeing his wife marching after him. She slaps him on the back multiple times, so much that he drops the broom and waves his hands as a means of protection. After hitting him until he’s tame, the woman turns to you and Kim.

“I’m so sorry for my husband. We just had some unwanted guests come by a few days ago givin’ us some papers to sign thinkin’ we can’t read shit, so we’re all on guard,” she puts her hands to her hips. “The name’s Margaret, and this brainless man is Gerald. So, what brings two beautiful, young women here?”

You two look at each other, then back at the woman.

“Uhm..My name’s Kim. We’re here to research the myth of the Winter Bear.”

Upon bringing up the name, Margaret’s smile disappears. “Oh god...you really are just like them. So then, you girls better give me one good reason to welcome you guys in. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to kick your asses outta here.”

And just like that, someone who you two thought was civilized quickly turns sour. Knowing the amount of pain that she can enforce, you and Kim are faced with a ticking time bomb. Kim desperately flips through her notebooks, seeing if she can show any of her records to impress her.

“Uhm...wait, please, Mrs. Margaret! We don’t know who you’re talking about, but w-we have no intention of hurting anyone. I-if you look at my notes, you can tell that I’m genuinely interested in writing about this myth! Y-you see, I’m an author, and Miss (Y/N) is a journalist. We’re working together!”

But this doesn’t convince Margaret at all. She glares at you two, picking up the broom Gerald dropped. Kim freaks out more, seeing if she can find anything to offer.

“We have money! We can pay for anything!!”

That doesn’t work either. For a writer, she does a poor job of persuading. You try to think of anything to support Kim. You look around, biting your nail as sweat begins to form. You hate this—being put on the spot to problem-solve. It makes you dizzy, making you want to escape as soon as possible.

You squeeze your eyes shut, thinking of the first thing that comes to mind. “I’ve been here before!”

Margaret stares at you, raising an eyebrow. You got her attention, so you take this chance to breathe.

“I came here during winter...when I was a child.”

The fury burning underneath Margaret’s eyes turns into sympathy. She lowers the broomstick, tears forming in her eyes as if she reunited with a long lost relative. To your surprise, she wraps her arms around you, catching both you and Kim off guard.

“You poor girl.”

Kim is absolutely confused. She looks at you in hopes of getting an explanation, but your expression is blank. You’re overwhelmed with multiple emotions, coming all together at once unsure of how to express them at once. It’s like when all colors come together to make white. The only thing you can do is hug her back.

———

On the second floor of the general store, you and Kim are sitting in their almost run-down kitchen. The flowery wallpapers are peeling, brown and yellow stains running down until it hits the dusty floorboards, and age-old grease stains and black food chunks occupying the stove. There’s also a gigantic hole in the ceiling.

Margaret sets down a tray of hot chamomile tea on the table. “Sorry for our shitty first impression. Things have just been so heated lately that we’re stressed out of our minds.”

You and Kim take a cup, blowing it before drinking, but Kim drinks it without issue. You want to rest your arms on the table, but it’s so sticky that it makes you quiver just thinking about the last time it was ever cleaned.

“It’s okay! From the looks of it, you guys went through a lot,” Kim replies in an optimistic tone. “What happened?”

Margaret grabs a nearby chair and sits down, placing her elbow on the table without hesitation and running her hand through her gray, curly hair. “We got these big companies, Dismaland or whatever the fuck their name is, demanding that we turn our town into a tourist attraction for a  movie they’re making. You know, those family-friendly kinds. I dunno much ‘bout it since the mayor is the one who spoke to them, but we turned it down. Since then, they’ve been harassing us to sign their papers, so every young-lookin’ person dressed almost like you guys, we try kicking them out.”

You never realized how bad it’s gotten here. It was just as hostile as you remember in your memories, but a little worse since your parents were there to defend you.

“I swear to God, we’re nice people, but we gotta put up our guard if those bastards keep on coming back,” she sighs heavily. “But to be brutally honest, I really do think we need the money. As you can tell, our place is a shithole, and those big guys are willing to give us a small portion of the money.”

“But it isn’t really about the money, is it?” You ask.

She doesn’t respond immediately. Rather, she nods.

“You’re damn right. Those corporations don’t realize that they’re creating the biggest graveyard in history.”

Kim’s eyes widen, covering her mouth as she stares at you and Margaret. “No way...you mean to tell me…”

Margaret nods again. “This ‘Winter Bear’ ain’t no fable. It’s real.”

Kim places her hands flat on the tables. “Kids actually go missing?! I knew it! Everything was just too suspicious to be simply a story.”

“Yea, so even if we need the money to keep the town going, we ain’t gonna risk some kids’ lives for it.”

“Wait,” Kim pauses. “So then...if the disappearances of children are real, then what’s the actual cause of it? Don’t tell me it’s actually a bear.”

She shakes her head. “We don’t know either. All we know is that once the kids go into the forest, they don’t come back.”

Margaret glances at you, but you avoid her gaze. You act as if you have nothing to do with the conversation, sipping the tea.

“But that doesn’t make sense. Bears hibernate during winter and these disappearances happen around this time. Wouldn’t it make more sense that it’s some other animal or a person? Not a bear. And only winter?” Kim scratches her head.

“Not to sound like a smartass, but bears actually don’t hibernate.”

“What?? Really?”

“They sleep longer during the winter to save energy, but they wake up in case of danger or hunger. It is possible that you can still encounter a bear.”

“So then...do you think it’s possible that bears eat the children due to the lack of food?”

Margaret shrugs her shoulders. “That could be it, but let me ask you this: wouldn’t you think a bear would leave traces of the child? Clothes? Blood? Something? They disappear into thin air, almost like they never existed.”

This sends chills down Kim’s spine. She’s heard of this many times, but hearing it from an actual resident who has lived through children going missing is terrifying...but also intriguing.

“That means that we have to check the forest! Wait, Miss (Y/N), you said that you came here before. If kids go missing, then how did you survive?”

You stare at the wall, noticing how particularly yellow it is. Judging by how dirty the place is, it makes you wonder if the wallpaper was white but got stale as time went by. You’ve been very quiet, not bothering to put your input, and this concerns Margaret. She knew that Kim was stepping over her boundaries.

“...(Y/N)?” Kim asks. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yea, I’m fine.”

“After your tea, I can show you young ladies where to go for the inn.”

Kim doesn’t read the atmosphere, not seeing how uncomfortable you’ve become. You clench onto the teacup, pinching the handle with all your might. You were confident when the thought of coming here sprung up, but being physically here is more demanding than you could’ve ever imagined.

———

Some time has gone by since the visit to Margaret’s place. She showed you two around the place, introducing you to some of the residents. Some of them you remember, but others you don’t. They don’t recognize you either, and Margaret is kind enough not to share your name with them. Once she’s finished showing you two around town, she eventually leads you two to the inn.

In the room, Kim is taking a shower while you sit by the edge of your bed. Despite struggling to find reception, the inn miraculously has some, although a bit slow. You have over fifty text messages from only two people—Suniya and your mother. Both of their messages are asking how you and Kim are doing. However, you turn off your phone, sighing as you toss it aside. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling fan blanketed with dust. The fan itself looks like it’ll fall any second, seeing as it shakes even from the lightest movement.

You were naive to think that your problems will be solved if you stepped into Little Bare again. It’s more complicated than you expected, and now you want out. However, you’ve already promised to work with Kim; you can’t break the deal. You wish Suniya was here to yell at you, to tell you that you’ve made a dumb decision. That way, it would at least sound like she cares. Even though you’ve gotten to know Kim a little more, it still feels like you’ve stranded yourself on a foreign land.

And that image of the little girl, Annie, continuously appearing every time you close your eyes. Every corner of this town reminds you of her, like a ghost haunting you. You can sense her presence in the corner of the room, purposely watching you with hollow, blackened holes for eyes. She’s standing there in her pink parka and blue-striped dress, waiting for you to make your next move.

You groan, rubbing your eyes. You apply enough pressure that your eyes are being pushed back, rubbing so fast that your skin turns red. No matter how much you try to push the thoughts away, she just keeps coming back. Just as Kim exited the room, you get off the bed, taking your jacket and heading straight to the door.

“Where are you going? You look like you’re in a rush to start a mission.”

“It’s too small in here. I need some fresh air.”

“O-oh, okay...but please stay safe! Who knows what kinds of creeps are out there.”

“I will. Thanks.” You open the door and close it behind you.

———

You walk around, hands in the pockets of your jacket. There is no wind, but the drop in temperature stiffens your muscles. Just like in the morning, no one is occupying the streets. It’s just you, alone, with your bothersome thoughts. It manifests into a black aura, clinging onto the back of your head.

You thought about heading to Margaret’s place just to get things off of your chest, but you change your mind. She never directly stated it, but she knew who you were and what you went through. It was an odd moment that she sympathized with you without knowing exactly what had happened.

A flashy neon sign catches your attention. It’s in the shape of a brown beer bottle, pouring bubbles into a glass wine. It’s the bar that’s across the street of the general store called Bar & Grill. You’re not a drinker, but when your stress gets overwhelming, you tend to be persuaded by the lust of alcohol. Wanting to get rid of this black aura looming, you make the decision to enter the bar.

———

Your head is on the counter table, your arms around it to hide your red face. The inside of the place has very few people, only a few men who just came back from work, but even these men are barely whispering a word. The bartender stands on the other side of the counter, cleaning the glass cups with a white cloth.

“Hey, Miss. Do you have someone to take you home?”

You groan.

The bartender sighs. “You’re a young woman. Do you know how easy it is to be preyed on?”

“I can...handle myself,” you raise your head up, one eye open. “I practically raised myself! What makes you think I’m irresponsi...ble? You dunno me.” You slur your words.

The bartender sets the cup down, putting her hand on her hip and leaning on the counter. She isn’t sure if your red, watery eyes are because you drank so much or if you’re becoming emotional.

“You’re one of those researchers that came here earlier today, huh? Marge told me,” she shakes her head. “Jesus Christ, you city people really don’t know the limits to drinking.”

Next to you are five empty beer cups with the foam sliding down on the sides. You snicker at how much you drank, followed by a hiccup. “Wow, you’re right. I’m usually good at self-control. I know how to control my problems, but tonight is not one of those times.”

“It’s not that you’re good at controlling your problems. You’re just good at avoiding them. Marge told me about you, and no offense, but she thinks it’s fucking strange that you don’t look like you’re bothered that your sister was taken away by that monster. But I disagree. You’re pretending like it ever happened.”

“Excuse me? Who are you to assume how I feel??”

“Our place is practically off-coordinates with maps, but we still have those runaways who come to the bar every so often. You’re no different from them. So…”

“What?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She crosses her arms. “I won’t tell anybody. We pretend that tonight never existed.”

You rummage your hand through your messy hair, calming down. It might be the toxication persuading you, but you’re not comfortable telling her.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oh really?”

“I don’t want to, and it’s because I don’t know how to talk about it. If I can’t even talk to my mom about it, then why the hell do you think I can tell you? When I did want to bring Annie’s disappearance up, my mom would change the subject. It’s not only that, but it was like...she wanted to make me disappear too. And I know it’s because she fucking blames me for losing her, and seeing my face reminds her that she lost her baby. She always favored Annie anyway, so it wasn’t surprising that when she went missing, she...she said…”

You have a flashback of when you were a child during the aftermath. You and your parents returned safely home but without Annie. Your six-year-old mind thought that if you stared at Annie’s cradle in your parents’ bedroom every so often, she would magically return. But to your dismay, your efforts were in vain, and she never appeared.

One night, you woke up from a repeating nightmare of the day you lost her, so to soothe your racing heart, you jumped out of your bed and ran to their bedroom to look at her cradle, praying that she’s there. But rather than seeing your parents asleep, they’re sitting by the edge of the bed. Your mother is curled into a ball, sobbing profusely while your father makes attempts to comfort her with shallow pats on the back. In between her cries, you heard:

“Why couldn’t it have been (Y/N)?”

Returning from a trip to the past, taking your wallet out and paying with cash. You put on your coat and head straight to the exit.

“Where are you going?” The bartender asks.

“To sleep.”

You march right out the bar, massaging your head. After opening the doors, you step out and nearly tripped. For a second, your foggy mind thought you stepped through a hole, but it turns out to be snow. Some time has gone since you’ve been holed up in the bar that it already began snowing and it’s piled up.

You wobble to the empty forest, leaving a trace of your footprints. You despise being anywhere near the empty forest that surrounds Little Bare, but with alcohol, you think you’re invincible. You stand in front of the forest, being unable to see into the distance with the fog blocking your view. But amongst the fog, there is an apparition.

You squint your eyes, but they fail to make sense of what stands far away. But what you can make of the figure is that it’s small and crouched over. It’s alive, moving around but at the same time, staying in the same spot. It isn’t far, but it isn’t that close either.

Your mind immediately draws to that apparition being a bear. That bear that took everything away from you--your little sister, your chance at a childhood, a shot at a proper adult life, everything. Anger spurs within you, no longer having that rationality in your fragile mind. Within a spur of impulse, you pick up a rock the size of your hand, pulling it back and throwing directly toward the bear.

“FUCK YOU!” You shout from the top of your lungs.

Despite the influence of alcohol, you nailed the apparition right at its head. It falls to the ground, the sound of a ‘plop’ echoing. In that brief act of revenge, victory overcame you. You nearly raise your hands up in celebration, thinking that you defeated your arch-nemesis. But you manage to return to your senses, realizing that the apparition isn’t a figment of your imagination...but an actual person. Then your adrenaline fades away.

You trek through the thick snow, hopping through it until you enter the forest, whilst tripping and stumbling. You lean over the black figure, rubbing your eyes to make sure that what you’re seeing is real. Unable to stand straight, you fall backward and land on your bottom. After blinking, dread sets in when you realize that it’s a child.

“Oh my god...oh no...help...”

You try to stand up to look for help, but once you do, your vision turns black and you become light-headed. Nausea hits you, wrapping your hand around your stomach to control your gag reflexes. The alcohol, lack of food and water, combined with the high elevation comes altogether, making you fall down again.

As your eyelashes flutter, there’s a flashlight illuminating from the direction where you came from. Just when you’re about to close your eyes, the young boy’s body grows exponentially, growing to an exact size of a fully-grown adult right before you.

———

“Mom! Dad! I made a best friend!! He lives in a cave in the forest with the black trees...No! I’m not lying. He really does live there! He’s six years old like me...What? He’s real!! He doesn’t live with a mom and dad, but he said that he lives with kids like me and him too…

“And I told him that I would show him Annie, too...”

“Don’t…!” You sit up in an unfamiliar room in a cold sweat and heavy breathing.

You’re on a clean bed, made of pure white. On the walls, there are drawings of the human anatomy, motivational quotes plastered on a piece of paper with words such as ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away’ and ‘be calm and exercise’.

Next the bed is Kim, startled by you suddenly waking up. “(Y/N)?! Are you okay??”

You look at your hand that’s trembling violently, but now that you’re conscious, the hangover hits you hard like a bullet. That massive headache and your stomach twisted in a knot. There’s a lump in your throat with the urge to throw up, but there’s nothing that’s coming out.

“Where...is this place?”

“It’s the clinic. The bartender found you unconscious with a man in the woods and thought that he was trying to take advantage of you.”

“A man…?”

You search through with what very little that you remember last night. You went to the bar to waste away, then you walked out. There was someone in the forest—a young boy. It was too dark to make sense of the boy’s details, but you just knew based on his shape that it was definitely a male.

“No...no…” You squeeze your eyes shut, enduring the pestering headache as you shake your head. “It...it was a boy. A kid.”

“What?” She raises an eyebrow. “There were no kids around, just the man. They’re interrogating him right now.”

You don’t recall a man being there. You must’ve been that fucked up to mistaken a man for a child. Even though it shouldn’t be an issue, it’s bothering you a lot. You remove the blanket, attempting to get out of bed before Kim stops you.

“What are you doing??”

“I have to see the man.”

“No! The doctor advised that you sit. You haven’t been eating, so you’re light-headed.”

“Let me see him. I need to.”

“Stop being crazy and just rest! They made food for you, so just eat and sleep.”

She puts her arms on you, but you gently push her hands away. “I will after I see him.”

You get out of bed, trying to stand but the light-headedness sets in. Your vision turns black briefly, causing you to stumble over your feet. Kim comes to the aid, helping you balance.

“See? I told you. Just rest.”

“No...I’m good. Do you know where this guy’s room is?”

Seeing how adamant you are about it, she decides to give in. “He’s in the room next to you.”

You head out of the room, walking slowly so that you don’t fall, then exiting the room. In the halls, there’s nobody, making it easier for you to head into the other room without any interruptions. You twist the doorknob, swinging it open to find the doctor and policeman, assuming by the uniforms that they’re wearing for their designated jobs. They turn to you, caught off-guard by your entrance.

The man that you’re looking for is on the bed, tilting his head when you two make eye contact. He has a long face, void of a smile. His black hair is frizzy and curly, strands of it flying all directions as if he just woke up. There are bandages wrapped around his head. After that short contact, he looks away, grabbing the doctor’s sleeve and using it to hide his face.

“Miss (Y/N)? What are you doing up?” The doctor asks.

Kim follows from behind.

“Miss Kim, I told you to watch over her.”

“I’m sorry...but she was persistent in seeing him.”

“Him…?”

Now that you have gotten your opportunity to meet with the man, you don’t know what to do. You stand still, at a loss of words when you meet the man that you ran into the forest. Perhaps you really did run into a man, not a child. You were under the influence, after all.

“Miss (Y/N),” the policeman starts. “Since you seem well enough to be standing, can I have a word with you?”

“Sure…”

———

“Amnesia?”

Returning back to your room, the policeman explains what they were discussing earlier. Kim had returned to the hotel room to give you and the police some privacy, and the doctor is staying with the man.

He sits with his hands folded on his lap, giving you a serious expression. “Yes. It’s a minor blunt-force trauma to the head, like something no bigger than a rock.”

“Oh my god…I was the one who hit him.”

“Did he try to assault you?”

You shake your head. “I did out of anger, but not at him. I was drunk and wasn’t thinking clearly.”

You fear that you’ll get in trouble, but you’re more fearful of the condition that you left the young man in. You weren’t expecting your throw to be that strong. The policeman scratches his beard, figuring out what to do in this situation.

“For all I know, you could be lying.”

You gulp.

“But hey, you could also be telling the truth. We don’t know until we check out the scene and hear his side. He doesn’t remember crap—not even his own name. For now, we’ll continue the investigation.”

You sigh in relief, but that still doesn’t deter the guilt from you. The man is a victim of your outlash, and it’s natural for you to want to make up for what you’ve done, even if it’s minor.

“Uhm...how is he…? The guy, I mean.”

“Other than the total amnesia, he’s in a healthy state. It’s strange, though. Other than a large coat, he was wearing a thin layer of clothes, but his body temperature wasn’t affected by the cold. We don’t have young people living here either, so it’s a mystery where he came from.”

He stands up from the chair, walking to the door.

“Well, it’s nice meeting you, Miss (Y/N). If you remember anything, then don’t be afraid to come to me. My name is Sheriff Tusk, and I’ll be in the police station often.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Sheriff Tusk walks out, leaving you alone. You fall back, resting your head on the pillow as you exhale. So much has happened in a short amount of time that it’s difficult to believe that all this actually happened. Even if you got away with being put to jail, you feel immensely guilty for hurting him.

———

The next day, you’ve been discharged from the hospital, suffering only from lack of nutrients and a hangover. Kim is in the room with you, helping you pack your things. Neither of you say much, focusing on putting your belongings away. You keep thinking about the man next-door, wondering how he’s doing. You keep stealing glances at Kim, wanting to ask her if you two can visit him but never gathering enough courage to actually ask her.

“Are you ready?” Kim asks as she puts the last folded shirt into your luggage.

“Hm? Oh, yea.”

You take the luggage from her and head to the door. Kim looks at her phone, once again, seeing that her phone has low reception. You pass by the man’s room, stopping in front of it and nearly causing Kim to bump into you.

“Whoa, what’s going on?”

Without a response, your eyes lay heavily on the door, struggling with the debate of whether or not you should enter.

“...(Y/N)...?”

Eventually, you make the final decision, approaching it and your hand grasping the doorknob. You pull the door open, making Kim confused, but not stopping you from continuing.

Inside the room, your peer at the bed, seeing the man sitting upward with a movable table that has a tray of food on top. He holds a cup of pudding in his hand, eating the chocolate-flavored dessert faster than the sound of light. He eats as though he hasn’t eaten in days, the pudding smearing on the corners of his lips.

It takes a moment for him to sense your presence, jolting and freezing when he sees you. You blink profusely, looking around the room nervously. You wanted to see him again, but you didn’t think about what, or if, you wanted to say something.

The man holds the end of his blanket and pulls it up.

You scratch the back of your neck, looking only at the corner of the room. “Hi, uh...I don’t think I’ve ever formally introduced myself. My name is (Y/N).”

You move closer and extend your hand out, but it makes the man flinch. Seeing that he doesn’t want to accept your hand, you pull it back.

“I don’t know if the doctor told you but...I’m the one who threw a rock at you, which is why you have that injury. I came in to say that I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t respond to you. Rather, he stares as if he’s fearful for his life, his pupils shaking from seeing you. You take one more step, wanting to get to know him, but it makes him flinch.

“I hope you—”

“S-stay away from me…” He whimpers.

His voice is deeper than any man’s voice, and yet his tone is like a scared child. Even the way he pronounced each syllable is with a lisp and not proper, as if he’s slurring. Despite his masculine outlook with his broad shoulders, tall height, and sharp eyes, underneath that shell, he’s fearful and small.

On the right side of you is the bathroom, the door open. You face the mirror, looking at your reflection. You see yourself as an ordinary person, but this man probably sees you as something, not someone, else in his reflection.

Kim puts her hand on your shoulder, pulling you back gently. “Miss (Y/N), I think it’s better to leave him alone.”

You know it’s better to do that, but there’s an urge within you, pushing you to stay. There’s an internal battle between you and yourself, the desire to stay and talk to him but leaving him alone to rest. Ultimately, you choose Kim’s suggestion.

You take a few steps back, your courage slowly being broken down with each step. “S-sorry…”

Breaking from a blanked trance, you abruptly pace out of the room and to the lobby. Kim is left confused, her head turning back and forth between you and the man.

“Sorry about bursting into your room. I pray for a healthy recovery.” Kim runs off to find you.

———

You stand just outside the small and aging medical building, Kim eventually catching up to you.

“Hey! What was up with that?”

No response.

“Miss (Y/N)...? Hello?”

“I...I don’t know.”

You couldn’t quite understand it either, unsure of what it was that made it okay to visit him. Despite his amnesia, it seems like he’s aware that you’re the one who injured him. With your behavior worrying her, Kim puts her hands on your shoulders, shaking you slightly.

“Do you know that guy?”

“No...no, not really.”

This is the first time you’ve met him, but there’s something about that man that you can’t put your finger on it. Perhaps it’s the guilt talking to your rationale or the urge to talk to somebody who’s close to your age. You just can’t let go of this.

“Well, you shouldn’t worry about it. The sheriff let you off, so you don’t have to take care of him.”

What Kim says floats over your head. You’re not doing this to appear like a law-abiding citizen. There’s this unconscious instinct that’s pulling you to him. It sounds unrealistic and dramatic, but there’s no other way you can describe this feeling. You turn around, staring at the medical building.

———

“What do you mean I can’t visit?”

In the main lobby, the doctor is sitting behind his desk, reading the newspaper. He lowers his glasses to give you a hollow glare. It’s the next day, and you decided to visit the man a second time but your visitation has been turned down by the doctor.

“Visiting without the patient’s permission, especially consistently, is harassment. I’ve been notified of what happened yesterday, so to protect each patient’s safety, I advise that you leave him alone.”

“But I’m not doing anything bad. I just want to talk to him.”

“I know you don’t have malicious intentions, but he’s still recovering from the head injury. Plus, the police are investigating, so it’s better if you leave him alone to avoid trouble.”

“I know, but…” You trail off.

“And you should be resting as well. You’re slightly anemic and are lacking some sugar in you. I’d say run to the store and buy some ice cream.”

Despite that, you stand still. Eating for your physical health’s sake isn’t your priority, but to see the man again. The desire to see him is just as haunting as seeing delusions of your little sister.

He raises an eyebrow, folding his newspaper up and leaning over his desk. “Why are you so persistent in talking to him? From as far as I can tell, you two don’t know each other.”

He’s asking a question that you don’t know the answer to. He waits for a response, but nothing. You seem hesitant, figuring out why it’s your first instinct to see him. You just have to, but if you tell him that, then he’ll most likely kick you out anyway for an absurd reason.

Seeing as you won’t say anything, he leans back, returning to his newspaper. “Well then, I’m sorry but without a proper reason, I can’t let you see him.”

“But…!”

He sighs, losing his patience with you. “I will call Sheriff Tusk if you don’t leave us alone.”

With the threat of police involvement, it pulls you back. You turn to the door, your shoulders raised up.

“Damn city people, thinking they can do whatever they want.” The doctor whispers.

You stop in your tracks. Normally, you don’t let insults like these get to you, but his tone made it seem like you’re scum. You’re not being stubborn because you think you’re superior to the rest of them, but he paints it that way.

With your eyes filled with red, you spin around, marching right back at the doctor. He notices right away, lowering the newspaper and preparing for an attack from you. You clench your fist, getting ready to let him know what’s been in your mind and conveying that through a punch.

But you purposely look away from him, looking at the corner of the room, your inner voice telling you to stop. When you get to his desk, you nearly slam your hand on it before the last nanosecond, pulling the force back and your fists making a soft landing.

You stare straight into the doctor’s shaking eyes. You exhale heavily, cooling down your temper. “Sorry. I just wanted to say that mold is growing in the corners. You should give it a look.”

He raises an eyebrow, questioning your mental state. Absolutely nothing made sense, not even to you. You turn around and pacing out of the building. He fixes his glasses, having no clue what just happened. He looks at the corner, seeing the black mold growing.

———

Outside of the medical building, you crouch into a fetal position, hiding your face in your knees. You don’t know what’s going on with you. You don’t have full control of your body, and it’s scaring you. One second, you’re oddly pulled toward that strange man, the next second, you let your anger take the driver's seat. You’re beginning to think that you belong in an insane asylum.

“Oh my, what in the devil’s name are you doing?” Margaret jogs to you.

She crouches over, rubbing your back. She takes your arm and helps you stand up. You’re confused, not knowing who’s touching you or where you’re at. You come back to your senses when you see Margaret’s face.

“Don’t be sitting in the snow like that, you crazy woman! Look at you, dressed like a whore out here in the cold and only wearing a thin layer of clothes!”

Calling you a ‘whore’ was a bit uncalled for, but you don’t get angry.

“Jesus Christ, that damn doc discharged you early. That scum of a doc probably let you go early because he’s too lazy to take care of you. C’mon girly, come to my place.”

She holds onto you, letting you lean on her to her place.

———

In her kitchen, Margaret sets a tray of cookies from a tin box in front of you with a warm cup of coffee. You sit with your knees close to your chest, curled up in a ball. You pick up a cookie, but the edges start crumbling. After a bite, it practically falls apart in your mouth and makes your throat dry. You take a sip of the coffee, clearly tasting the stale flavor of the grounded beans and sink water combined. You try not to make a bitter look, but you can’t help it.

“That boy has been stirring shit up even though he’s the one being holed up in that den. The whole town has been talking about him.”

She takes a seat next to you, putting sugar in her coffee and mixing it with a spoon. She takes a sip, smacking her lips after tasting her awful coffee calmly as if this taste is normal to her.

“But seeing a young man is definitely a breath of fresh air. Like with you and your Kimmy friend, it’s rare to see youngins here. Maybe he was with those contractors from the other day and got separated from them.”

It’s the most sensible explanation, but it doesn’t explain why he was alone in the forest. If he was a part of those businessmen, then he would’ve long since gone into the town and asked for help.

“What were you doing there, on your knees like you were prayin’?”

Once again, there’s that hesitation. She looks at you, ready for you to spill your heart out, but two decades of being a closed book, it feels way too strange to share. Just from your silence alone, she can tell that you’re not comfortable yet.

“You know that by clamming it into your brain ain’t gonna make it better. Even if you don’t tell me, I know exactly why you’re freaking out like your ass’s on fire.”

It’s a weird simile, but you take it.

“I know your struggle, but it ain’t like I understand it though. That’s why you gotta explain it.”

You hold the cup with your two hands, looking down at your reflection in the coffee.

“Don’t think that just because you’re all grown up now that I don’t remember what happened to you and Annie. I’ve lived here for thirty years, and every single kid who went missing here has been imprinted in my head. If there’s someone you want to talk to, don’t be afraid to talk. Or…” Margaret wipes imaginary dust off your shoulders, raising her eyebrows and smiling widely like a cartoon character. “I’m wrong and you crushin’ on that boy.”

“What the…? No.”

“Lady, don’t hide it. I saw how much you were beggin’ to see that young lad. I know young love when I see it.”

“It’s not even remotely close,” You don’t know how this turned romantic suddenly. “It’s normal for someone with decent morals to make sure that the person they harmed is okay.”

“Whatever you say, girly.”

It was so long ago, but now you remember. That time when you first came here, Margaret also told your parents to scram. Being no taller than your mother’s waist, she looked like a giant—a real-life monster scaring you to death. You can’t recall the exact words, but she must’ve been just as hostile as she was with you and Kim on the first day. But with the lens of an adult, now you know that those shouts were for concerns. She must’ve seen you and Annie and knew what ill fate was about to occur.

You look out the window and at the clinic. That man is still in his room, doing God knows what. “Margaret, don’t get the wrong impression, but how much are your flowers and candy?”

———

One of the good things about this clinic is that it’s open 24/7, but the doctor sleeps at his desk. You open the door carefully, making sure that you don’t make a noise. You keep your eye on the doctor, nervous that he’ll wake up. In your hands is a bouquet of flowers and on the other is a grocery bag. You move your hands as little as possible, holding two of the loudest objects in your arms. Luckily, you manage to pass by without waking him up, your feet lightly making its way up the stairs and to the man’s room.

As you sneak through the halls, you’re beginning to think of yourself as a creepy person. You really went through the lengths to see a man who you’ve harmed once and spoken to once. You’ve always been questioning your mental stability, but this is pushing it. A part of you wants you to run out, but you’ve already put yourself deep into this mess to leave.

You make it to his bedroom, a single light coming from behind the curtains. You knock on the door, and although you don’t get a response, you can hear the sheets fluttering. You put your hand on the doorknob, but then you pull back, the reality of the situation hitting you hard. Sighing heavily, you think it’s best to leave. At this rate, what you’re doing can get you into massive trouble.

Just as you turn around, you hear a loud bang in the man’s room, followed by the ringing echoes of metal objects dropping. You scrunch your shoulders up, nearly screaming at the sudden loudness. This prompts you to open the door and check what happened.

In the room, you look around, but only darkness wraps around you, taking seconds for your eyes to adjust to it. On the ground is the man, squirming around, entangled in the blanket. You’re unsure of what to do, placing the grocery bag and bouquet on the bed. You attempt to pull the sheets off of him, but his kicking and punching creates a struggle for both of you.

“Hey, you don’t need to move so much…!”

After a while, you’re able to pull it off. When he sees you, he freezes, and you as well. You move back, on your knees, but having no idea how to explain why you’re here, you scratch the back of your neck.

“So uhm...what were you doing on the floor?”

Why did you even ask that, you idiot?! You want to slap yourself, but you remain cool. The man stares at you, having no idea how to answer you. If anything, he seems more frightened than shocked to see you. You try to think of anything to reassure him that you’re not a threat.

You grab the bouquet from the bed and show it to him. “This is for you.”

He stares at it curiously, like he doesn’t know what it is. He reaches over to grab it, but he pulls his hand back.

“Wh...where did you get this?”

“...I got it from the store…?”

Since it’s winter, most of the flowers have been shipped from other areas, but Margaret’s shop didn’t have that many, so the bouquet is rather small. He eyes it in awe as if he’s never seen these before. He pulls a rose out, inspecting every angle. He bends the stem, then picks a petal off. He does it again, and again, and again until his lap is surrounded with red petals. What’s left of the rose is the crooked stem, and the thorns.

He sweeps the crimson petals into a pile, finding the smoothness of it satisfying, pinching them in between his thumb and index finger. He raises his head, giving you round, innocent eyes, pointing at himself. “Are these for me?”

“Y-yea…”

You almost forgot about the second half of the gift. You grab the grocery bag, spilling the content all over the floor. It’s different kinds of candy—chocolate bars, jawbreakers, and gummy worms.

“When I came here last time, you were eating that pudding to death, so I thought you’d like to have more sweets.” You don’t even know if he’s supposed to be consuming this much sugar, but you thought that you just had to buy him these.

You give him a watermelon-flavored hard candy. He tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. That’s when he pops the candy into his mouth, not bothering to remove the wrapper.

“Ah! What are you doing?! Spit it out!” You sit up, pulling yourself closer to him.

Startled by your raised voice, he flinches at first, raising his arms up like you were about to hit him. He spits out the candy immediately, that childish curiosity disappearing. You move back, wondering if your loud tone scared him.

“You...you can’t eat it like that. You have to take off the wrapper first.”

You wait for him to pick up the wet candy, but he doesn’t. Not wanting to pick up the saliva-covered candy, you pick up a different one, showing it to him.

“Copy me.”

He picks up the one he spat out, pinching the wrinkled edges just like you. You pull it outward, the wrapper spinning and loosening. Once the twists come off, you unpeel the plastic, showing him a hardened sphere. You put in your mouth, letting the sweetness soak in your mouth.

“Like that.”

He does what you do, the candy twirling until it’s untwisted. He takes it out, eating it, and that’s when his eyes widen, astonished by how sweet it is.

“It’s sweeter than pudding!” He exclaims.

His enthusiasm for how sweet candy is is absolutely weird...yet endearing. For a man who’s around your age to behave like he’s experiencing sugar for the first time is abnormal, but it makes you feel...warm inside.

He tries to bite the candy, but he wasn’t expecting it to be this difficult and ends up hurting his jaw. “Ow…but it’s not soft like pudding.”

You hold back the urge to laugh. He definitely has been living under a rock if he didn’t know that he can’t bite it down so easily. That’s probably why the doctor gave him soft foods.

He reaches for another one, but you stop him. “What are you doing?”

“I want to eat another one.”

“I-I know it’s for you but...you should wait to have more in the morning. It’s not good for your teeth.”

He’s saddened, but he obeys. He folds his hand, but his eyes won’t leave the candy that you dropped everywhere. Unable to say no to his puppy eyes, you give him candy that’s easier to chew. Not letting him unwrap it himself, you open it for him.

“This is taffy. It’s strawberry flavor. I think you might like it.”

You give it to him, and lights sparkle behind his eyes. He eats it, savoring the taste. Seeing his smile makes you feel fuzzy, like seeing how genuinely happy he is for something as simple as getting candy makes you want to smile too.

“Uhm...I don’t know if I ever got your name,” but then you recall that he doesn’t remember his name. “Actually, wait...never mind.”

“...Taehyung.”

Taehyung? It sounds out of place for a town like Little Bare. He definitely isn’t from here, which only brings more mystery as to who he actually is. Other than that, it’s a unique name foreign to you.

“I’m...sorry for hitting you on the head. I wasn’t thinking straight and did something really stupid…”

“Yea, it really hurt,” he points out blatantly. “Just promise me that you won’t do it again. Not just to me, but to anybody else.”

It felt out of sorts that somebody as immature as Taehyung would give you a lecture, but you nod. “Promise.”

“Okay.” And just like that, he continues eating the taffy.

He scoots closer to you, losing the tensity in his muscles. Your determination to see him has finally died down, and now the timidness is entering your body. It’s impossible to distract yourself from him, watching him eat with absolute happiness, glad that you ignored the urge to run away and stayed.

You stare at the candies on the ground, the sensation of nostalgia overcoming you. You ate these when you were a child, and you ate these a lot with Annie, especially the watermelon-flavored candy. Since her disappearance, it was difficult for you to consume these again. But times have changed, and you bought these impulsively for Taehyung.

You bite the candy that’s in your mouth, breaking it into pieces to swallow, then putting the watermelon one in. Eating it was like going back in time, being that six-year-old, naive girl. You even ate this when you were here, fighting with Annie and not sharing one until your mother yelled at you to share. It’s such a trivial memory, but one that you remember vividly.

But this is the reason why you avoided anything relating to this town. It brings back memories that you tried so hard to bury deep in your head. You don’t want to be re-attached to emotions that you cut the strings to. You flutter your eyelashes, raising your head at the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. You can hear Annie’s laughter, holding her small, chubby hands as you two run through the snow. You exhale slowly, but it’s shaky, and your chest feels heavy.

“(Y/N)...are you okay?” Your trance is broken when you hear Taehyung’s voice.

You return to your senses, surprised that he remembers your name. “N-no...I’m just...I just haven’t...it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung tilts his head to the side, observing you fighting back the tears as you rub your eyes. With your eyes closed, he extends his hand out, reaching for your head, but when you open them back up, he pulls it back immediately.

———

“Oh no, Tae, what happened this time??”

“They were pushing me around again. They were throwing snowballs and telling me to go away. They kept telling me that they don’t play with immigrants. What does that mean?”

“...Ignore them. Tell me where they hit you.”

“My head...they kept aiming there.”

“A snowball is not supposed to hurt. Oh dear God...you’re bleeding again. Don’t tell me, did they put rocks in the snowballs again??”

“I don’t know...but it really hurts.”

“My poor child…”

“...Mom…”

“Yes?”

“...Am I an alien?”

“What? No! You’re Kim Taehyung, the strongest boy.”

“But...I’m skinnier than the rest of the kids. Plus...they keep saying that I have small eyes. I can never beat them at racing.”

“Taehyung. Do you know what’s the strongest forest animal?”

“What?”

“A bear. They’re huge and can beat up anything that stands in their way. But you know what else makes a bear strong? Not only physical strength, but their will power to stay alive too. You may be a cub right now, but when you grow up, you’re going to be the strongest bear in the entire world! You’re going to be so strong that you won’t need to hibernate like the rest of the grizzlies. That’s why, no matter what, Taehyung, you’ll always be my baby bear. When you’re in trouble, call for me and I’ll be there. I promise I won’t leave you. Now, let’s get you treated at the clicnic.”

———

“Are you insane??” Kim’s booming voice echoes across the inn. Kim’s hands are on her hips, like a mother scolding her child.

You’re by the edge of the bed, startled by her voice.

“Did you really think that the doctor wouldn’t see the things you left for that guy? The doctor told me everything this morning. What the hell were you thinking, sneaking into his room late at night??”

You sigh, unbuttoning your coat. “His name is Taehyung.”

“His name doesn’t matter. What matters is that you broke into his room. It’s already enough that you nearly got in trouble for injuring him, but this? This is pushing it!” She wants to say more, but letting her anger out on you won’t do anything to ease it.

The way she lectures you reminds you of Suniya, and it might be because Kim is beginning to understand what she meant when she said that you’re disconnected. Logic does not correlate with you and you do things erratically.

“But I didn’t hurt him this time. We had a little chat, and I gave him a few things.”

“But did it really have to be during the middle of the night?”

It didn’t, but there was no other way if the doctor was going to keep you away from him.

“Is it because you felt bad?”

“...I guess? He’s a really nice guy. You should talk to him. Everything he says is interesting.”

You don’t need her to tell you that what you did was wrong, but perhaps she’s doing it because of how nonchalant you are.

“Miss (Y/N)...you can’t forget about why we’re here. This isn’t a vacation, we’re working, and we both haven’t even jotted down a single word. Fooling around with a stranger—”

“Taehyung.”

“...Taehyung...Talking to him is going to waste more time. He’s not paying for our meals.”

You fold your hands on your lap, glaring at it. She can tell you feel a little guilty, so she tries figuring out how to talk to you without you becoming withdrawn. She takes a seat next to you, but makes a clear gap between you and her.

“Remember why we’re here. There’s a story that we have to tell, right? To warn people that this place isn’t meant to be lived in.”

You pick on your fingernails, fully aware of your purpose for being here...but seeing Taehyung was almost like a calling...That night, talking and eating candy on the floor, it felt like an eternity since you last spoke to someone that didn’t have anything to do with work. Even though you’ve never met him before, it felt like you’ve known him for years.

“Yea...yea, yea. I know.”

“If you know, then let's start our work today. We’ve gotten comfortable with this place, so let’s start by interviewing the townspeople.”

“Okay.”

———

Laying on his back is Taehyung, raising his arms up and staring at the candy wrapper. He covers the ceiling light with the wrapper, and he smiles while thinking of you.

“Taehyung, focus.” The doctor snaps his fingers.

Taehyung flinches and crunches the wrapper in his hand. Sitting on a stool next to the bed is the doctor with a clipboard.

“Answer my questions. Have you recollected any memories since your stay here?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“Nothing?”

He nods.

“So is it really your name that you only remember?”

He nods again.

“And you have no idea where you’re from? Not a clue?”

He shrugs his shoulders. His lack of vocal response irritates the doctor slightly, but forcing Taehyung to answer won’t solve anything either.

“Well then, your health is improving exponentially, so you’ll be discharged soon. If you still can’t remember who you are, then we have to figure out where you can stay.”

The doctor gets up and leaves the room. Waiting in the hallway is Sheriff Tusk, his arms crossed. They look at each other, disappointed looks on their faces.

“Anything?” Tusk asks.

The doctor shakes his head. “I can’t get anything out of him. He’s got the mentally of a child stuck in a man’s body. Despite that, he’s recovering at a rapid pace, faster than an average person. His internal injuries are practically gone and all he has left is for his scar to go away. But...something did happen last night.”

“What?”

“That city chick, (Y/N), snuck in here.”

Sheriff Tusk throws his head back. “What in the hell…? For what?”

“To drop off some gifts for him.”

“...You don’t think she’s tryna coerce him? She is the reason why he’s here.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I have no clue. I’m not sure if you remember, but she’s the one with the missing sister.”

“Oh, that’s the girl? Why the hell is she back here for?”

“From what Margaret said, she and her friend are here to write a book.”

Sheriff Tusk sighs, running his hand through his beard. “Fucking shit...It’s already enough that those goddamn contractors keep coming back…”

“Well, technically the girls aren’t causing harm, so far. I can have Margaret keep an eye on them.”

“Alright...I’ll continue with the investigation. For now, make sure that that young man doesn’t leave. Once I get things together, I have a few questions for him too.”

The doctor nods and Tusk walks off. Once the sheriff walks out of the building, he turns around and returns to Taehyung’s room. But when he opens the door, he nearly has a heart attack from Taehyung, who stands inches away from the door.

“Jesus Christ…! What are you doing out of bed?!”

“I heard you say (Y/N). Is she here?”

He thought that he and the sheriff were speaking quietly, so he wasn’t expecting Taehyung to eavesdrop, but he forgot that the walls are thin. He’s worried that he might’ve heard what they said, but he simply stares at the doctor with curious, naive eyes.

“No, she isn’t.”

“Do you know when she’s coming back?”

“No idea. Just go to bed.”

The demand from the doctor saddens Taehyung. He drops his head, slugging his feet across the room and back to his bed. Just like what Tusk said, the doctor is concerned that you might’ve influenced him to ruin the investigation between you and him, but it seems like he really likes you.

He puts his hands in his pocket. “Taehyung, be truthful with me. Did (Y/N) say anything to you?”

Taehyung rummages through his pockets and shows the doctor a handful of plucked petals and candy wrappers. “She showed me how to eat candy and gave me flowers. When you eat it, you have to take off this cover-thingy…” He pinches the wrapper.

“Mm-hm, okay. Anything else?”

“...Hm...oh, she also seemed kind of sad.”

“She what?”

He tries copying what you did last night, raising his head up and staring at the ceiling. “She wasn’t crying like a baby, but her eyes got watery.”

It’s no surprise. When the doctor first saw you, you seemed like a broken person upon first glance. But he didn’t want to say anything, believing it might’ve been too sensitive of him.

“...I think she hates me.”

“Hm? What makes you think that?”

“You said that she told you that she threw a rock at me and was angry, then she looked sad when she was with me. I think I hurt her before I forgot my memories.” He has a sullen look on his face.

Pitiful is what the doctor would describe Taehyung. His way of thinking is too pure...too black and white. There’s no complexity in him, so if the doctor were to discharge him, he would have no chance of surviving out there.

He leans over and pats Taehyung on the back. “She said that it was an accident and is sorry. Forget about it.”

“...But I can’t...How do you make someone forgive you?”

“You can’t make someone forgive you. Even if you’re the one who made the mistake, it’s up to the other person if they can fully accept what you’ve done,” he pokes Taehyung’s forehead. “Sometimes you think that seeking forgiveness comes from others, but it’s also forgiving yourself with what you’ve done.”

It’s too confusing for Taehyung to grasp what he means.

“But that’s saying if you really did something awful to her. Do you know if you actually hurt her?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I...don’t know. I think I did, but I can’t remember. I just don’t want to see her sad.”

The doctor can see the clear self-frustration in Taehyung. He’s convinced that he wronged you, but the real challenge comes from how he did it. But seeing him battle with himself, it leaves the doctor with a lingering thought… “I know you told her not to see me...but is it okay if I see her again? I want to say sorry to her.”

The doctor hums, thinking about that request. “I can’t make promises, but we’ll see.”

“Okay, thank you!”

———

“Don’t bother seeing him again.”

“What?!”

Later that day, the doctor came to visit you and Kim at your inn to drop the request. “You trespassed into private property and caused mental harm to my patient. And don’t you think it’s smarter to leave him alone, especially when you’re being suspected of physically harming him?”

“…I know what this is about.” You clench your fists.

“Miss (Y/N), please don’t…”

“You’re just doing this to spite us! You hate people from the city, so you’re treating us like shit!”

“Miss (Y/N)!”

“That’s what you think. But you shouldn’t be talking to someone who took the time to nurse you back to health.”

“Don’t use that excuse to justify your shitty behavior!!”

With your face turning red, Kim gets up and pulls you back from the doctor. You jerk your hands off.

“I don’t need an excuse when we have people here taking advantage of my town and the people living here for money. If you want to make money somewhere else, then do that instead, not my home.” He walks away.

“WAIT! COME BACK HERE!!” You shout.

“Miss (Y/N), stop it!!” Kim aggressively pulls you back, shutting the door to prevent you from running out. “What the fuck is going on with you?!”

“Don’t you see it?? He’s just doing that because he fucking hates us! I’m not doing shit to Taehyung!!”

“But he’s a doctor, you should listen to him!”

“Degree or no degree, you don’t need a Ph.D to be a complete asshole.”

“I can tell! Talk about yourself!” She blurts out suddenly.

However, she covers her mouth, regretting immediately with what she said. Her words pierce your heart, but in all honesty, you needed that slap in the face. You weren’t looking at yourself to realize how much trouble you were causing for others.

“Miss (Y/N), I’m so sorry I…”

“No...it’s okay. I needed that.”

“...But please...stop lying that you’re fine. You make it very obvious that something's bothering you.”

You sigh. “...I hate feeling guilty. It’s like...it’s all I could think of, and I hate it. That’s probably why I really want to see him. I can’t let this go.”

That heaviness in your chest caused by guilt is unfathomably painful—so heavy that it’s suffocating. You’re aware of your obsessive nature, and you’d like to control it, but it’s been so deeply rooted into your blood that even if you try to get rid of it, it’s almost impossible. That’s why it’s easier to pretend that the problem never existed rather than solve it.

“I’m sorry, Kim, for dragging you into this.”

Unlike the other conversations that they had before, it truly feels like you’re fully present. Your mind isn’t floating somewhere else, but here.

“It’s okay...people are bound to have their slip-ups. Just...listen to the doctor. I don’t want us to be kicked out.”

You bite on your thumb, not exactly agreeing to Kim, but just as she said, you don’t want to be forced out of town either.

———

Late at night, Taehyung is laying in bed, staring out the window as he counts the number of stars, even though he can count as far as ten. After hitting ten, he restarts and would end up counting the same stars repeatedly.

He hears a knock at the door, then the door creaking open.

“Hello…? Taehyung, are you here?”

Your voice brings a smile to his face, straightening his back. “I’m here!”

“Shh…” You peer over the corner of the wall. “The doctor is asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Did the doctor tell you to visit me again?”

“Ah ha ha...yea.” You avert your eyes.

He hears the rustling of the grocery bag in your hands. Curious, he looks down. “What’s in there?”

He bounces up and down excitedly. You take out the components in the bag, showing him some fruits and drinks. He’s in awe at the different foods you display on the bed, making his mouth water.

“Peaches!”

He picks up the pink fuzzball, almost taking a bite out of it before you take it away from him. “Wait!”

He slumps his shoulders, pouting.

“I didn’t get the chance to clean it, then I’ll cut it for you.”

You rush to the bathroom, rinsing the fruit before returning. In the bag, you take out a small pocket knife, cutting the skin and slicing it into pieces. He stares at it with wide eyes in awe, impressed by your cutting skills, even though it’s nowhere near astonishing.

You give him a piece, and he takes it, shoving it into his mouth and overwhelmed by the sweetness. “This is better than candy.”

“It’s more refreshing, isn’t it? I thought that since last time I brought you some unhealthy snacks, I’d give you healthier options. Well...that’s what I thought...but I couldn’t help but buy something else.”

You wipe your hands down on your jeans, but the stickiness from the fruit juice remains. You take out a can of soda, showing it to him, but leaving him confused. He creases his eyebrows, scratching his chin as if he’s trying to interpret what he’s looking at.

“...This is cola. You’ve had them before, right?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it.”

You open the can, the click of the carbonated fizz leaks out from inside. He’s so impressed by it, moving closer to the drink and smell the faint flavor of the cola.

You put it into his hand, and he hesitantly takes a sip. However, he gives a distasteful look, his face cringing from the strong fizziness of the drink. The face he makes makes it impossible for you not to laugh.

“It’s nasty…”

“I’m sure that if you keep drinking it, then you’ll love it for sure.”

He shakes his head, eating more peaches to get rid of the taste. Throughout the night, you show him the many different fruits, and he takes a bite with each one of them. No matter what it is, it will always astonish him, so keen to learn more.

Before you know it, hours have gone by, but it feels as though it’s only been minutes.

“How’s your head?” You ask.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the doctor is always asking me if I remember anything,” he makes a raspberry noise with his lips, falling onto the pillow. “That’s all we talk about.”

“Well...do you remember anything?”

He looks around suspiciously as if he’s making sure that there’s nobody else in the room. He leans over as if he’s going to whisper a deep, dark secret. “Don’t tell anybody, but I do remember a few things.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I remember them in frames, like still pictures. It’s foggy, but there are parts that came back to me.”

“What do you remember?” You lean closer.

“There’s a lot of snow, and I was sitting on the ground. It was really...really cold. Also, everyone looked taller and angry.”

Although it’s great that he has some memories come back to him, they’re vague. His memory is no different than how some of the townspeople treat you.

“Anything else?”

“...Oh, yea. There’s also a large cave in the forest too. I went there a lot.”

The mention of a save makes you shudder, and that’s when a wave of memories return for you. You know exactly which cave he’s talking about...the one you and Annie went to. You hug yourself, trying to forget about it.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

You blink profusely, nodding your head. “Y-yea...I’m fine. Taehyung, I have to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“Did you...by any chance, ever run into a bear? Or a child? At the cave?”

He stares at the ceiling, shaking his head. “No.”

“...Do you even know about the Winter Bear story?”

He shakes his head again.

“...It’s...about a grizzly bear who’s the only bear in the entire world that doesn’t sleep during winter. Because of that, he gets lonely, so he kidnaps kids.”

Your knee begins shaking violently, motioning up and down at rapid speed. Taehyung’s eyes are fixated on your anxious knee.

“He...took my little sister a long time ago, and...it’s my fault. He...paid attention to me, and I liked it. And truth be told, I loathed my sister as much as I loved her.”

His eyebrows crease, not quite knowing what ‘loathed’ means.

“My parents, especially my mom, loved her to death. I still don’t know why. It might be because she was the baby of the family or if it’s ‘cause she resembles my mom a lot, but she was always favored. And imagine the horror that unfolded when they heard that their favorite child went missing and their least favorite child is to be blamed for.” You laugh at yourself.

You will never forget the look of terror on your mother’s face when you returned with your clothes torn and freezing. It wasn’t because of the state that you were in, but the fact that you returned without Annie. She immediately went around town, asking for help, and everybody searched to no avail. Your mother never directly stated that it was your fault, but the way she looked at you like she was going to throw up.

You so desperately wanted to apologize to her, but each time you tried it, she would change the subject. If you were insistent in talking about it, she would become violent. Items being thrown to the floor, her blood-curdling screams, those wide, gaping eyes glaring down at you like you’re vermin. It made you afraid of your own mother. That’s why you tried to bury your memories, and when you did, you either emotionally detached yourself or changed your thoughts to something else, just like how your mother did.

But every time you did think about your sister, you felt that immense guilt gulping you up. You would become manic—wanting to do anything possible to seek forgiveness. You would return to that fragile, little girl who wanted her mother’s love.

Taehyung searches through his pockets, giving you one of the candies that you gave to him. Some of the wrappers fall out of his pocket as well, but he ignores them. You raise an eyebrow, but he nudges for you to take it. It’s the watermelon flavor candy.

“The candies are so sweet there’s no room for bitterness. That’s what I learned after eating so much of it.”

You take it from his hand, unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth. And just like what he said, your tongue is overflowing with the sweet, sweet watermelon. When you look up at Taehyung’s face, making proper eye contact with him for the first time, you notice something odd. His expression is blank, but tears are falling.

You let out a single laughter. “Why are you the one crying?”

He didn’t need to say anything for you to know that he sympathizes, maybe even empathizes, with you. It always felt like when you said something, you got attacked in return. Whether it be Suniya nagging at you, Kim criticizing your rash behavior, those faceless comments on your article bashing you, or even your mother neglecting you when you tried mending the relationship, it felt like everything you did was a mistake. No one wanted to listen to you, and it made you scared to be honest.

He brushes your bangs away to get a better look at your face. Even though you barely know him, it feels like he’s been your longtime friend. Without thinking, you drop yourself onto him, hiding your face in his chest. You hold him tightly, silently crying on his shirt. He’s confused, as stiff as a rock. He slowly sets his hands on your back like an amateur hugger. But you’re no different either since you’re just as awkward as he is.

“I’m...sorry.” He apologizes.

You laugh through the sobs. “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t reply.

You forgot how sticky your hands are—Taehyung’s lint gets stuck on the palm of your hands. You rarely talk about yourself, but with Taehyung, it feels oddly comfortable around him. Just the look of his eyes alone, you knew that he wasn’t going to judge you. You didn’t need to get defensive because you felt safe.

“Thanks for listening to me.”

———

You peek through the crack of the door, waving at him one more time before leaving. He waves back, mouthing the words, ‘please come back soon’. You nod, gently closing the door. You sigh, slightly embarrassed for breaking down earlier. It’s not every day that you have a heart-to-heart conversation with someone, so it was new. But you can’t hide that little smirk on your face, like some of that weight on yours has been alleviated.

“Seems like no matter how many times I tell you, you think you’re superior to me.”

Startled, you nearly scream when you cover your mouth. You spin around and meet eyes with the doctor who seems unsurprised that you’re here.

“Uhm...I can explain.”

“No need. I give up on trying to convince you.”

“...Really?”

“I don’t know what you want from that kid, but it doesn’t seem like it’s bad. Just don’t pick on him.”

“I’m not.”

“Even if I did tell you to stop, you’ll just continue breaking in late at night.” He walks off.

That felt...a bit too easy. You thought that he was going to put up more of a fight, but it might be because of old age or because of your stubbornness, he was quick to throw in the towel. However, you aren’t complaining about this and if anything, plays in your favor.

———

For the next few days, you have been visiting Taehyung. You two wouldn’t do much but talk, and these conversations would go on for hours. For once, it didn’t feel like your life was single-colored, and his liveliness was contagious. You found yourself laughing and smiling a lot more than usual. But it isn’t as if you two are doing anything spectacular, just talking.

There are traits of him that you’ve noticed. He has these moments where he’s easy to read, like a child, but there are other times when he’ll blank out and you have no idea what’s in his mind. He’s always curious about the world and whenever there’s something that he doesn’t know, he would ask you. He doesn’t ask the doctor and always goes to you first.

“Taehyung?” You peek through the doors.

No reply. Instead, you hear the shower going off in the bathroom, so he must be taking a shower. You thought about waiting in the lobby, not wanting to scare him when he’s out of the shower, but you also think it’s better to stay. Even though you and the doctor came to terms, it’s still uncomfortable being in the same room as him since he hasn’t let go of his distaste for city people yet. Despite treating you horribly, the doctor isn’t harsh with Taehyung. There are times when he loses patience with him, but never gets angry.

And speaking of Taehyung, you’re startled when you hear a thud in the bathroom. Alerted, you rush to the room, twisting the doorknob and seeing him on the ground, completely wet. You get down on your knees, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh, (Y/N), you’re here.”

“Are you okay?! What were you trying to do?”

“I tried turning on the water faucet, but I couldn’t turn the handle. I think I put too much strength and slipped after it turned on.”

“You should’ve asked the doctor for help,” you brush his hair. “Geez, your bandages are wet.”

“I do ask him, but he always looks like he’s annoyed at me every time I ask. I don’t wanna bother him anymore, so I wanted to try and do it myself.”

You groan. That damn doctor, only thinking for himself. “Don’t force yourself to do things especially since you’re still recovering. You should be resting instead.”

“...I’ve always done things by myself,” Taehyung slumps his shoulders. “Whenever I asked someone, they would always get angry.”

“Says who?”

“...Says everyone.”

‘Everyone’? You don’t know anyone other than you, Sheriff Tusk, and the doctor who visits him. Margaret would ask about him from you every so often, but you aren’t sure if she comes by either. Whatever it is, it’s bothering Taehyung, so much so that he’s so gloomy.

“Hey, you can always rely on me.”

He stares at you with wide eyes, but then he looks away, defeating himself before he gets the chance to smile. “But...you aren’t here all the time.”

“Well...good point,” you contemplate. “It’s not always possible, but just call my name and I’ll come to the rescue.”

It’s unrealistic. Obviously, you’re no superhero who can pop up to save the world with a single cry of help. You don’t want to give him hope and be disappointed when you don’t fulfill it. You feel like a parent—giving shallow promises just to shove his worries away, but at the same time, you’re being genuine.

“It’s a small town. I’m sure I can hear your voice. Besides, you were in trouble and I came in time to save you,” you pat him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s change your clothes.”

You grab him from under his arm, helping him get up. You walk with him to his bed. Once he sits down, you look through the cabinets for towels,  finding a white hand cloth folded on the third shelf. You go back to him, using the cloth to massage it over his wet hair, but not too aggressive to affect his injury. Whenever you wipe too hard, Taehyung’s face would scrunch up and he would put his hand on your wrist.

“(Y/N), do you have a family?”

“Hm? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“I’m just curious about you.”

“I do. I have a mom and a dad and...that’s it.”

“...Do you live with them?”

You shake your head. “I live alone.”

“Why?”

“It’s because...my parents and I don’t get along. After Annie went missing, my parents got divorced and I lived with my mom for a while. But I couldn’t stand living with her anymore so after I graduated high school, I moved out and lived on my own.”

“What does divorce mean?”

“You don’t know what it means?”

He shakes his head. “I heard people use it, but I never really knew what it meant.”

“It’s when a married couple doesn’t want to be together anymore and decides to separate.”

“Oh…”

“What about you? Do you remember your family?”

“A little bit. I don’t remember my dad, but I do remember some things about my mom. I think my mom left my dad when I was very young, so I lived with her. But we ran away from home and moved to a new place. I don’t know how she looks, but she always took care of me. And she always had bruises, too. But I don’t remember why.”

Your ears perk up when he brings up the notion of bruises. It definitely stands out. It makes you a little worried about what sort of environment Taehyung lived in prior to losing his memories.

“She also dressed differently from you. Actually...everyone from my memories doesn’t dress like you or the doctor or the policeman.” He tries to recollect his memories, but it only frustrates him more.

“Okay, okay. Don’t give yourself a headache. Take your time to remember everything.”

You continue to dry his head until you think it’s done. But just as you were about to leave, Taehyung places his hands on your waist to stop you from leaving.

Your cheeks turn red. “Tae-Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Thank you…(Y/N), for visiting me all the time. Even though I’m a good-for-nothing, you keep me company.”

You scoff. “No one called you a good-for-nothing. And if anyone did, just ignore them.”

Without thinking, you pat him on the head, running your fingers through his damp hair. He peeks one eye out to look at your face, but when you two make eye contact, he quickly hides back into your stomach.

“You won’t leave me? I don’t have to be alone anymore, right?”

There’s no reason for him to question you, and you know full well that that can’t be the case. After all, you’re here for work, not to make friends. However, you can’t bring yourself to break his heart. The way his voice deepened, his tone sounding so...solemn. Like he experienced trauma that he never wants to go through again.

“I promise.”

And with that vow, he raises his head up, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes become smaller from how wide his smile is.

“I really like you, (Y/N), you know that?”

Your heart nearly skips a beat, then your ears turn red. You fan your face, telling yourself not to misread what he said. “Me too. I’m glad we’re friends.”

He raises his head up, a little upset. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What?”

“I mean…never mind.”

———

“Count very slowly to twenty, okay honey?”

A younger version of Taehyung nods his head.

“Close your eyes and cover them with your hands. Don’t peek because if you do, then you’re cheating. People don’t like cheaters.”

He nods again. “Are we playing hide and seek like the kids?”

In the middle of the forest, the woman has Taehyung stand against a dead tree. The woman cups his cheek with her icy hands, brushing his curly bangs back as she looks like she’s trying to fight the urge to cry. Her lips are curled inward, and she opens her mouth to speak. But finding difficulty in letting one word out, she lets out a shaky sigh, averting her eyes from Taehyung.

He can’t keep his eyes off of the purple and green bruises on her frail arms. His mother is so thin that she doesn’t have any fat in her. She doesn't even have muscles—she’s skin and bones. Her eyes look sunken, like her eyes are shrinking. However, Taehyung didn’t think too much about her mother’s malnourishment because his body looks just like hers.

“Y-yes. You know that I love you, right?”

He nods for the third time.

“O...okay...if you love me,  th-then close your eyes and don’t peek. And remember: you’re a strong bear—so strong that you can withstand the winter cold.”

He covers his eyes with his hands, counting from one. His mother waves her hand in front of him. When he doesn’t jolt from her hand, she takes this chance to flee. He keeps counting even after being the only one in the forest.

“Eight...nine...ten...elevephen...twelve...fo...four...four…? Fiveteen...si-six…” He loses count, though he thought it was strange that his mother made him count to twenty even though he can barely count to ten. “...Mom?”

———

“I came from Korea.”

In the room, the sheriff is keeping record as Taehyung continues.

“I think...my mom and I immigrated here a long, long time ago. She said that we had a better chance of living here than there.”

“By ‘long time ago,’ can you give me a specific time frame?”

“...I can’t. It was too long that I don’t know.” 

While he tries to recall his past, he looks out the window and notices you with Kim. Unlike the stoic faces he made, his eyes light up, losing interest on the sheriff and onto you. Tusk glances over to you, clearly sensing the light-hearted vibe coming from Taehyung.

He walks over to the window, raising his eyebrow. “You and that girl have gotten quite close.”

“I like it when she’s here.”

“Even though she’s the reason why you’re here in the first place?”

His smile disappears. The doctor and policeman are always dragging him down with pessimism, so he doesn’t like it when they talk to him.

“She did hurt me, but she’s trying her best to make it up. What she did is wrong, but I forgive her.”

But Sheriff Tusk doesn’t seem convinced. He sighs, closing his notepad. “Well, this is definitely a step forward. It looks like I’ll let (Y/N) off the hook, and I’m confident that you didn’t harm her either that night. If there’s anything else that comes up, then update me whenever you can.”

“Okay.”

———

You glance through Taehyung’s window, only able to see the top of his head. You aren’t sure what he’s doing, but you pray that he’s resting. You’re so distracted that you weren’t watching where you were going and nearly tripped over a rock hidden in the snow.

“Be careful!”

“I’m okay…”

“What were you looking at?” Kim looks up at the direction you were staring at, then she understands. “Is it Taehyung?”

You nod.

“You two became fast friends. I would’ve never thought that it’d be possible.”

“I guess it is.”

“What do you guys even talk about? You’ll go visit and be gone for hours.”

“Anything, but he likes talking about food mainly. Though, he likes almost everything that I bring in.” You smile unconsciously.

Seeing your cheeks turn red, that’s when it hits Kim. She smirks, elbowing you on the arm. “I get it.”

“What?”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“H-huh? What? N...No! Not like that.”

Not this again. You already went through this with Margaret, and you don’t want another misconception...right? You’re actually embarrassed to hear that in contrast to how indifferent you were when Margaret brought it up.

This is the first for Kim to see you in this state. You always appeared calm and collected—making almost every decision without hesitation. Having your more vulnerable side present makes you seem more human.

“If you try to deny it in that tone, obviously I’m going  to assume the other way around! You two hit it off pretty well in the beginning…I mean...You two got along great. You were even begging to see him.”

“Th...that…!”

“Why are you getting so shy? You’re a grown woman, no need to hide how you feel. You act like this is your first crush.” She laughs.

But when you don’t laugh along with her, that’s when she knew that her joke was true.

“Wait...you’ve never liked someone before?! I don’t mean to judge but...of all your years, you’ve never once dated??? Not even had a crush on someone??”

“Yea, I’ve never liked anyone before, but why are you assuming that I like Taehyung…?”

“You make it more obvious than the sky being blue. I’m not gonna lie, Taehyung is pretty handsome. Maybe if he didn’t act childish then I would’ve probably liked him too.”

“It’s not that he’s childish...More like, he’s very curious. But as I  said, I don’t like him in that sort of way.”

“Mm-hmm, you can deny it all you want. It seems like Taehyung’s into you, too. Well...no doubt since you’re the only person to ever talk to him and is around his age.”

You like being around him, but you’re not sure if you like him in that sort of way. You two barely met a few weeks ago, so it’s too premature to be walking through romance territory. Despite it being a few weeks, it truly does feel like you two have known each other for a long time though.

“Well, don’t be in denial for too long. We don’t have much time here until the train comes back, and I don’t think you would want to leave with regrets.”

“I know.”

You don’t like thinking about that. It’ll dishearten him, as well as you, when the time comes. But eventually, you have to tell him that you’re going back home.

“...You said that you’d like him if he wasn’t childish...What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why are you so curious? I meant what I said.”

“So you’re saying you have a chance with him?”

She’s confused, but it takes her a while before realizing your intentions. She elbows your ribcage, laughing. “You’re jealous!”

“I’m...I’m not! I’m just wondering…!”

Kim never realized how easy it is to read you at times. You and Kim continue your conversation until you two return to the inn. As you two walk off, Taehyung watches from his window.

———

“Who’s the lady with you?”

“Lady?”

You’re in the hospital room, peeling the skin of an apple with a knife. The snow has been getting heavier these days and it’s been like this for a while now. The sky has become cloudy, and there’s no sign of the sun anywhere.

“She was with you when you first came here, too.”

“Oh, Kim? We’re acquaintances. We barely know each other.”

“Really?”

“Yea.”

“Oh, okay. I thought you two were friends.”

“No, not really. She’s a nice woman though. Why do you ask?”

He keeps quiet, picking on his blanket as he sulks.

“I don’t have that many friends. The only other person that I talk to is my agent.”

His eyes widen.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

“I thought you didn’t have anybody…”

You aren’t sure where he’s going with this. You set the sliced apples down on a plate, giving one to him to which he takes.

“I know a lot of people. It’s a part of my job as a journalist.”

“Are you...close with any of them?”

You’re confused with why he’s interested in your personal relationships. That’s when you get the hint, making you smile. “I’m not close with any of them.”

He sighs in relief and you laugh. Surprised by your laughter, he becomes embarrassed. “Wh-what??”

“Are you trying to make me feel bad about not having that many friends?”

He seems confused, so you realized that your initial assumption was wrong. His cheeks turn red, pouting. “That’s not it.”

You tilt your head, confused.

“I thought you didn’t have any friends or close family, so I was surprised with how close you were with that lady.”

“I know a lot of people, but it doesn’t mean that I’m close with them,” after Taehyung finishes one apple slice, you give him another. “Every relationship that I have with someone is different from the other. Like you and Kim for example. Kim is like my current work partner, and you’re…like a friend.”

It’s unusual to call somebody your friend. It was so easy for you to push others away, but Taehyung is the first person that you want to be close with. There was something about him that attracted you—like a fly buzzing toward a light.

And like an attractive light, Taehyung’s smile is just as bright. “I’m glad that I’m your friend.”

“Yea...me too.”

You thought about what Kim said, about how you feel about Taehyung. Of course, he’s a joy to be around—that bubbly yet curious personality of his is hard to dislike. It’s the sort of trait you don’t see too often in adults, especially in the big city, so it’s a breath of fresh air.

You peer over at the window, and it doesn’t seem like the weather is going to calm down. If anything, it looks like it’s going to get worse overnight. It’s so bad that you can’t even see a few feet in front of you.

“Oh no, it looks like there’s going to be a blizzard.”

The inn isn’t that far, and if anything, it won’t be an issue crossing over. But that isn’t the problem. Just the thought of going through a blizzard makes you feel...uncomfortable. Unwanted emotions return, the kind that darkens your mind.

Taehyung can sense the tension, so he thinks of something to bring you back. “Will you be okay?”

“Yea...I think so.”

But he isn’t convinced. Your face says it all, and you don’t want to go out there. He contemplates, then a light bulb turns on when an idea sparks.

“How about you stay here for the night?”

“Huh? No, I’m fine. It’s just snow, and this is a place for patients. I don’t want to take up space.”

“No one comes here and it gets a little lonely at night. If you go out tonight, you might get sick, then you’ll have to stay here for sure.”

“What are the chances that I get sick? Besides, the doctor might not—”

“I don’t mind.” The doctor shouts from the lobby.

His voice catches you by surprise. You didn’t think he could hear you two talk, so now it makes you conscious about how much he’s eavesdropped. The walls truly are thin here.

“See? Stay here tonight.” He reaches over, grabbing your hand.

His thumb strokes your knuckles and he gives you puppy eyes. You can’t say no to him when he gives you that look. You cover your mouth, hiding your burning cheeks as well.

“Okay...I’ll sleep in the room next door. Do you know if the doctor has any spare toothbrushes?”

“Yes, I do.” He shouts from the lobby again.

You sigh, wondering how much he’ll keep listening. “Thanks…”

———

You and Taehyung are brushing your teeths in the same bathroom. While you’re looking at yourself in the mirror, Taehyung is fixated on you. He’s trying to copy how you brush your teeth. Whenever you brush your right teeth, he does the same. When you move to your left, he does that as well. When you spit out the foam, he does the same.

After washing your face, you head to your room, and Taehyung follows. You look behind, stopping, and he stops as well. He’s holding a pillow and blanket, giving you the hint that he wants to sleep with you.

“What are you doing?” Even though you know, you still want to ask.

“I want to go to the same room. I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“But isn’t your room fine as it is?”

“Yea but...it doesn’t have you in there.”

You blush. “But sleeping in the same room is…”

He tilts his head, puzzled. With that innocent look on his face, you don’t want to say any further.

“Anyway, we shouldn’t sleep in the room.”

“But we stay in the same room during the day, and for a long time too. What’s wrong about sleeping in the same room?”

“It’s just…”

You know that he won’t do anything to you, but just the thought of sleeping in the same room is a bit too much. You truly are immature—being a woman in her mid-twenties and is still conscious about sleeping in a room with a man, not even the same bed.

“Is it because there’s only bed? You can sleep there and I can sleep on the couch! If you don’t like that, then I can move my bed into your room and—”

“That’s not it. We’re just going to be next door, so if you ever need anything, then just knock.”

He looks disappointed, but he doesn’t push further. “Okay…”

“Then...good night.”

“Good night.”

You walk to the room, and you look behind one more time, waving. He smiles and waves back. It’s saddening to see him look forward to sleeping in the same room as you, but you don’t want to push boundaries. You keep telling yourself that this decision is for the better.

———

The children are having a snowball fight. Just on the outskirts of the small  town, the kids build fortresses out of snow, using it as a shield to avoid the offense team. They’re running around and laughing, thankful for it to be snowing so they can play.

But approaching them with small steps is Taehyung, still as a child, his hands clasped to his thin jacket. He’s shaking violently, his skin so pale and frozen cold. His hair is a mess, dirt marks smeared all over his skin. His bottom lip trembles and has turned blue, but he still smiles.

His stench can be smelled from the distance, disrupting their fun. The smell of sweat is Taehyung’s signature scent, like a foreboding sign that he’s drawing near. He’s gotten skinnier since the last time he came to Little Bare. Bags hide underneath his eyes, his round cheeks absent.

“It’s Taehyung. Run away!”

The children hide behind the fortresses, and this hurts Taehyung. However, he remains determined and keeps smiling. “Can...I play with you guys?”

But his request isn’t heard. The children are occupied with making snowballs, combining it with the rocks on the ground to create spiky snowballs. They make enough to form a pile. They start throwing them at Taehyung, and although the first few miss, some hit his body.

He raises his hands up, using his hands to block his face. He runs off, but right at the last moment, one child is able to nail a snowball perfectly at the back of his head. THACK! Only he heard the impact to his head. It was hard enough that he fell forward, his face landing first.

The children laugh. “Hurry! Run before the hungry boy eats us!!”

They skip away to their homes. He loses consciousness for a few seconds before groaning. His head pulsates, touching where it hurts but immediately pulls his hand away because of how painful it is. Underneath his breath, he calls for his mother. He calls for her many times, but no matter how many times, she doesn’t return to rescue him.

Still, he wants to believe that his mother will return. She’ll return to him to make him a warm meal under a roof. He’ll finally get to eat candy like the rest of the kids, and maybe, just maybe, the kids will let him play with them. But for now, he has to prove that he’s strong in hopes that his mother will want him back.

As he gets up, limping as his desire to conform with the kids slowly turns into disgust. The animosity grows as strong as the dizziness that blurs his vision. He limps for what felt like hours until he returns to his new home—a large, ominous cave. The mouth of the cave is dark and hollow, like it can suck anyone of any size in.

He leans on the rocky walls, scratching his arm while dragging his body deeper into the darkness. He places his hand on the wall, leaving bloody handprints and smearing them as he moves. He falters, landing face first, which worsens the damage to the head. He turns his head to the left, and there’s a mysterious marking of a grizzly bear with strange symbols around it. It’s been there ever since he found the cave.

His vision blackens as his eyelids become heavier. One tear drops from his eye, apologizing to his mother that he couldn’t be as strong as she hoped for. Within two weeks of her disappearance, he’s giving up. Fighting became a chore, and now sleeping seems like a better option.

And thus, he closes his eyes for good. And the last thing he thought of was a wish. A wish that he could’ve made at least one friend.

But before he does, the drawing of the grizzly bear on the wall begins to glow.

———-

Taehyung gasps for air, clawing at his throat. He felt pressure on his chest, and it was so clustered that he could’ve sworn that he stopped breathing. He sits up, not realizing that he had been crying in his sleep. Looking down at his pillow, there’s a large puddle of tears and on his eyes as well.

He brings his knees closer to him, covering his ears as he squeezes his eyes shut. Stop it. I don’t want them anymore, he repeats in his head. His memories are terrifying, as if every time he goes back in the past, all it ever becomes is jumping straight into a nightmare. Waking up from an unwanted dream makes this damp room seem scarier, like there’s no one to protect him.

“(Y/N)...” You’re the first person to come to mind. But when he calls for your name, you’re not there. He recalls that you’re sleeping in the room next door.

He gets out of bed, grabbing his pillow and blanket as he walks out of the room. He drags his feet to your room, knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)? Are you asleep?”

There’s no response. He looks at both ends of the hallway, paranoid that some evil ghost is going to appear in either direction. He clutches onto the pillow tighter.

“(Y/N)?”

The calm snow has turned into a blizzard again, and the gales whistle in the cracks of the windows. The wind shakes violently against the window, almost like a robber trying to break in. It scares him more, so he lowers his head, praying that you heard him.

“(Y/N)? Are you there?”

It reminds him of his childhood after his mother left. After wandering in the forest for a long time, he found a cave. While he was excited to live there, nighttime was never his favorite. The large opening left him vulnerable to wild animals to potentially attack him. And standing at the center of the hall reminds him of that, that exposure of his body to the cold world, his life taken away at any second.

“I’m scared...so please…”

The doorknob twists, startling him. He gasps, holding his breath in, but he lets it go when it was you that opened it. You’re rubbing your eyes, yawning. “Taehyung? What are you doing up so late?”

He hastily enters your room, closing the door for you. “Is it okay if I sleep here?”

You don’t make an immediate response, which scares him that you’ll decline.

“I had a nightmare.”

It might be because you’re half-asleep, but it doesn’t take that much persuasion to let him sleep. “Alright...but sleep on the couch.”

“Okay!” He takes baby steps to the couch, placing his pillow by the arm rest and lays down. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Sleep tight.” And just like that, you go to bed.

Taehyung watches you sleep, seeing as you’ve already knocked out within seconds. He tries to fall asleep as well, but no matter how many times he tosses and turns, he can’t sleep. He’s gotten comfortable being the person he is now, happy to be here and seeing you every day, not the depressed child who was abandoned by everyone.

Some time has gone by, and he still can’t sleep. He’s staring at the ceiling, listening to you breathe steadily. The nightmare he had is as vivid as ever, experiencing the phantom pain that came with the head injury.

“(Y/N)? Are you still awake?” Without a response, it tells Taehyung that you’re not.

He sits up, staring at you. He gives it a few seconds before getting out of bed. He stands over your bed before making the rash decision to sleep next to you.

He lays down, his face just mere inches away from yours. Despite being so close, he finds your face mesmerizing. He’s so close that he can feel your breathing.

Taehyung wanted to lay next to you just to see how it’s like to sleep next to someone. It’s so comforting knowing that there’s someone next to him, like the paranoia has been swept away. The longer he stares at you, the redder his face turns. Even though it’s the middle of winter, his face feels hot. He sees you every day, but he can’t understand why he’s nervous now.

He wants to move closer, but your hand is in between your and his face. Rather than move it away, he bites his bottom lip in contemplation. He’s already crossing the line, so he’s afraid that you’ll push him away if he tries too much.

He puts his hand over yours, intertwining his fingers. Your hands are smaller than he thought, his palm already engulfing it. Not only that, but your hand is so warm. Your fingers jolt, which nearly made him pull his hand away. But after that, you’re still. He sighs in relief.

Laying next to him is you, the person who’s taken care of him since the beginning. Judging on his fragmented memories, you���re the first person to ever fight to be with him. It doesn’t matter the reason, he’s just happy that someone thinks that he’s worth it. But at the same time, you’re the person who got him into this mess. You’re the one who threw that rock, just like the other kids. You made his head bleed like how they did. And yet…

He forgives you.

He gently presses his forehead against your forehead. He wished you could stay with him forever so that he can never experience abandonment again. Taehyung is afraid that you’ll end up being like his mother—crying for your name but you never coming to his rescue.

———

The blizzard has died down, and the blaring sun blinds your eyes. You flutter your eyes open, using your arm to cover them from the light. You sit up, exhaling as your vision adjusts to the morning rays.

“Good morning!” Taehyung exclaims as he opens the windows.

You had forgotten that he slept here last night. Even though it’s early in the morning, Taehyung is as energetic as usual.

“Did you sleep well?” You rub your eyes.

“Better than ever.”

You barely remember what happened last night. You know you got up to open the door, but after that, it was a blur. Taehyung also looks chirpier than usual, though you don’t know why. It could be because he got what he wanted and sleep in the same room as you. Whatever the reason, you’re glad that he’s smiling.

As you get out of bed and into the bathroom to wash up, he glances at you. His smile is gone, contemplating some thoughts in his head.

In the bathroom, you splash water in your face after brushing your teeth. You look at yourself in the mirror and massage your cheeks, feeling a little conscious about making weird faces in your sleep. You hope that you didn’t make any noises during the night either.

You walk out of the door, startled when Taehyung turns out to be just by the entrance. “Whoa! Sorry, did I almost hit you?”

But he ignores your question, folding his hands together. “(Y/N), I was just wondering...but you live in the city, right?”

“Yea, I do.”

“...When are you leaving?”

“Uhm...we’ve been here for a pretty long time now, so I think I have a few days until our train comes to pick us up.”

He looks pained just hearing that. “Then...if it’s okay with you, can I show you something before you leave? I think I finally know who I am, at least, the more important parts of myself.”

“This...came out of nowhere, but I’m glad you remember everything. What do you want to show me?”

“It’s...where I used to live. It’s not that far from here.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You live near here? Sure, I don’t mind, but are you even allowed to go out?”

“...Yea. The doctor gave me permission to leave. Is it possible to go later tonight?”

Tonight? You’re unsure about it. It’s too dangerous, especially if you two stray too far away from the town. “Can’t we go tomorrow morning? It’ll be too dark if we go later.”

“I know, but I’m afraid that if we wait in the morning, then i’m going to forget. Please! It sounds crazy...a-and stupid, but I don’t want to sit around and wait anymore. There’s...something I want to confirm with myself. My memories are jumbled up, and I feel like if I go as soon as possible, then everything will make sense. If not, then can we at least go when the sun’s setting?”

You’re still hesitant about it. But seeing the desperation in his eyes, it’s apparent that with or without you, he’s going to go on his own. The tale of the Winter Bear is real, and if Taehyung is taken by it, then it’ll be blood on your hands. If not that, then a coyote can eat him too.

It’s that feeling of responsibility coming back again. If you say no and he’s in danger, you have to live with guilt. You can’t bear to lose another person because of your selfishness.

“O...okay, I’ll go with you. But only in the condition that we go back as soon as you show me.”

“Thank you so much!”

Even though he seemed happy earlier, there’s an air of seriousness. You thought it was strange that he lives near here, and despite Little Bare being so small, no one knew he had been nearby all this time. Although he’s vague about it, it does make you curious about him.

———

“You’re going out again?” Kim crosses her arms.

While back in the inn, you’re putting on your coat. The whole day has already gone by, and you’re going to meet Taehyung just like you planned. However, Kim isn't impressed by it.

“Is he even allowed to go out? It doesn’t seem like he completely recovered.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Apparently, the doctor said that it was okay.”

However, Kim doesn’t seem to agree with your answer. She creases her eyebrows, putting her index finger to her chin as if thinking.

“What?”

“You know...you’ve been seeing him a lot lately. More than actually doing work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for not helping. Is there anything specific you wanted me to do?”

“No...it’s okay. I already have a basis for my book. Besides, if this was to help you reconcile with your past, then it’s alright.”

“...I feel horrible, like I didn’t help at all.”

She shakes her head. “No, you did a lot more than you think.”

You crease your eyebrows, not entirely sure what she means by that. Regardless, you’re glad that you somehow helped her, though not sure with what and how.

“But...I’m really curious. What relationship do you have with Taehyung? I know you told me that you just met him, but to be frank, whenever I do see you two talk, it seems like you guys have known each other for years.”

You don’t respond. This should be an easy answer, yet, you struggle.

“Miss Suniya told me about you. Mind if we chat for a little bit before you go?”

“Sure...” You sit down on a chair, then Kim sits by the edge of the bed. “What did she say about me?”

“She told me that you have selective memory loss.”

You’re not surprised that Suniya told her about your condition.

“I’m sure there are things that you do and don’t remember about this place, which is why it probably wasn’t so hard to convince you to come with me. The reason why I never bothered you to help me with the book is because I wanted to give you the chance to regain the repressed memories naturally.”

You don’t know where she’s going with this. “...Why is it important that I remember?”

“Well, I...this...you…” she stumbles with her words. “I just want to tell you that you’re a really special person.”

“...Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t think you understand how hard it was to get into contact with you,” She steps closer. “Miss (Y/N), you’re the only person who’s ever seen the Winter Bear and survived. You’re the reason why I became intrigued with this myth in the first place, but those blockbuster people paid news outlets to get rid of articles written about you to sell this myth as a friendly story, so I hit a dead end until I read your article and knew that I found you.”

Things are beginning to click, but you don’t like where this is going. “This...isn’t only about the myth...is it?”

“Do you not realize how big this story is going to be when I write about your encounter with the bear?! People are gonna go crazy over it, then people won’t look down on me for studying mythology. So that’s why, Miss (Y/N), I want to know your relationship with that Taehyung person. My instincts tell me that there’s more to him than what meets the eye.”

“So...you’re doing all this to make money?”

“Why else are we here?” Kim crosses her arms. “Miss (Y/N), don’t pretend to be a hero when we both know that you tagged along for the money, too.”

“This doesn’t feel right...and what about Taehyung?”

The misery that you went through only to be exploited for money is one thing, but for her to use Taehyung, it’s a different story. You’re so infuriated with her that everything in your vision turns red. You thought about punching her, but you manage to control yourself.

Kim gets on her knees, right before your feet. “Who cares about what he thinks? Miss (Y/N), we are writers trying to survive, aren’t we? No matter how many people compliment our writing abilities, words aren’t going to put food on the plate.”

“Stop it…”

You have a flashback of being a kid again, but in the hospital, being checked for any injuries. You didn’t show any physical pain, your mentality however…

“No, I don’t want to…”

“I need you to go back in the past and try. It doesn’t hurt to remember Annie, right?”

The image of your mother crouching over a chair, her face buried in her hands as she cries her heart out. You two are in the police station, waiting for any updates to Annie’s disappearance when a policeman broke the devastating news that they won’t continue the search.

“Don’t you want justice for your baby sister? So you need to come out and describe how the Winter Bear looks like.”

You cover your ears, fragments of your memories that you tried so hard to bury are returning to the surface. You remember the forest, knee-deep in the snow, meeting the friend you made during your stay here. You remember intertwining your pinky finger with your friend’s finger, promising that you’ll be friends forever. A childish vow that you wished you never committed. Because you also promised that friend that you’ll introduce Annie.

“So please, remember—”

“Stop it! I should’ve never come along with you!”

You get up from the chair, marching right for the door and slamming it behind you. Now standing on the other side of the door, you lean on it, rubbing your eyes as you grunt. You don’t want to remember; it’s better if they never come back. You like the way things are. You have nothing to worry about, you want to feel like there’s nothing to worry about. For now, you just want to see Taehyung.

———

At the front of the inn, Taehyung is already there, wearing a thick jacket but is still in his patient uniform. It’s already dark out, but you can see him clearly. When he sees you, he smiles and waves. However, you seem fazed with what Kim said. He’s quick to catch on to your discomfort, so he wraps his hands around yours. It catches you by surprise, but it goes away when he beams.

“How are you?”

“Great, how about you?”

“Good! It’s a lot colder than the last time I went outside.”

You chuckle. “Yea, you’ve been locked up in that hospital.”

“The hospital isn’t that bad. Anyway, are you ready?”

“Sure. How hard is it from here?”

“Not too far,” he takes you by the hand. “Come on, it’s already getting dark.”

He drags you to the direction of his supposed home. You look back at the inn, your senses finally returning and realizing that you’re really going to Taehyung’s residence late at night. You know you can trust him, but there’s something off about this that lingers in the back of your head. Yet, you don’t want to go back either, especially after hearing Kim’s real motive. You want to stay with Taehyung because you feel safer with him. Unlike many adults you’ve encountered, he’s transparent.

———

“Taehyung...are you sure you know where you’re going?”

As you two head deeper into the forest, the lights that came from the town disappear. You hold onto his hand tighter, fear crawling up your skin. It doesn’t help that it’s night either. In contrast to you, Taehyung is undisturbed.

“Yup, it’s beginning to look familiar.”

You regret choosing to go later in the day. If anything, you feel like a complete idiot for agreeing to go this late. It might be because you’re older and know the dangers of the world, but the woods seem far scarier compared to when you were a child.

“I don’t like this…! Let’s go back.”

After saying that, you hear a branch crack and it startles you. You let out a yelp, instinctively grabbing onto Taehyung’s arm. It doesn’t frighten him, so he’s clueless about why you’re afraid.

“If you’re scared, then hold on to me.”

Now conscious about your actions, you pull away, your cheeks flush with red. However, Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance to reconsider and drags you back into his arms. He wraps around your shoulders, squeezing you closer to his chest as he gives you a cheeky smile. You avert your eyes, sulking, but he’s not wrong about you being scared. You hold onto his shirt as you two continue walking.

To distract you from your fears, he changes the topic. “What kind of house do you live in?”

“Mine? Hm...well...it’s nothing fantastic. I live in a one-bedroom apartment.”

“That’s it?”

You nod. “It’s probably a little bigger than your private room back at the clinic.”

“Really?!”

“It’s small but so expensive...How about your home? I never got to ask if you live with anyone.” Though, judging by how no one that he knew came by to pick him up, he most likely lives alone.

“I live alone...and my home...is a little different from a normal home. It is big though.”

“Oh really? That must be cool. And to have it all for yourself too.”

“It was, and I thought it was cool because of how roomy it was...but it didn’t take for me to dislike it.”

“Oh...I’m surprised nobody has ever mentioned that you lived nearby...But speaking of your home, I was wondering, how long have you been living here?”

“Ever since I was a kid.”

“Really? And you’ve never ran into the Winter Bear?”

He shakes his head. “I rarely see bears in general.”

You thought it was strange how he’s lived here since he was a child and yet, he has never been kidnapped. If he’s lived here since he was young, then he would’ve been long gone.

“...My mother always told me that I’ll grow up to be strong. She said that I’ll be so strong that I won’t need to sleep like a bear who hibernates. And I believed her.”

Your ears perk up, listening to him attentively. You recall when Margaret that bears technically don’t hibernate.

“But a part of me thinks that it was mental training to prepare for when she abandoned me.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“That’s when I found a home to live. It was hard living by myself. Kids from Little Bare made fun of me for being a dirty boy and threw rocks at me until I ran away.”

“What are you talking about…? Little Bare doesn’t have any kids…”

“I hated living alone because it was scary, and all I wanted was a friend, or anybody who was willing to keep me company.”

What he’s saying is beginning to sound suspicious. You slowly pull yourself away from him, and it doesn’t seem like he minds.

“You know...travelling through my memories...I’ve always seen snow. Little Bare is always snowing no matter what year it is.”

“Taehyung...Little Bare doesn’t snow all the time. You know that...right?”

“Yea...so I wonder how the other seasons look like. It’s been so long. I learned that snow soaks in all sounds, which is why it’s always quiet during winter. I hate the silence more than anything. I want to know how it’s like to live where it’s filled with laughter.”

Taehyung draws near to his home, which is located in the middle of the forest. Horror slowly seeps under your skin when you start noticing how...familiar this place is. It was difficult to see the resemblance because of how dark it is, but once your eyes adjust to it, it looks as clear as your memories.

“So...it’s a little disheartening to hear that you’re leaving soon, (Y/N). I was hoping you could be here longer.”

You know this place all too well. Your legs begin to tremble, mortified that you have returned to the place that you desperately tried to keep buried in your subconscious. Standing before you is a large cave, towering over you and Taehyung. It’s like a gaping mouth ready to swallow anyone that comes in.

You fall backward, your hands buried in the freezing snow. You can’t get your eyes off of the cave as you hear haunting cries of children’s souls trickling from the depths of the hellhole; one of them sounds exactly like Annie.

Taehyung sees the pure terror in your eyes, crouching over as he tries to help you up. However, when he reaches his hand out, you finally remember exactly who Taehyung is. It makes sense why it was so easy for you to get along with him and why it felt like you’ve known him for so long. Back when you were six years old, this very person is the cursed Winter Bear—the monster who took Annie away.

You swipe his hand away, so shaken that no words are expressed. Your breathing becomes unstable, panic sets in, and your mind goes all sorts of directions. You think about one thing, but your mind heads the other way. You see Taehyung’s mouth moving, but you can’t hear it, only muffles. You can only hear a static ring fly across your ears. Even in the freezing temperatures, you’re sweating bullets.

“(Y/N)...I—”

“S-STAY AWAY!” You crawl backward, swinging your hand side to side to defend yourself from him.

It’s that innocent look in his eyes again that you vividly recall. He was able to transform into a bear and a kid, but when you first met him, he was a child just like you who found you playing in the snow by yourself. He lured you in with fictional affection, promising that he’ll never let you be neglected. It was all a ruse to lock you in that cave, just like the hundreds of souls in there, including your little sister’s.

He looks hurt, but he understands. Right as your memories are coming back to you, it’s returning to him as well. The screams of his victims, the scared look on their faces as they try to escape, and his vicious obsession of chasing after them. He pulls his hand back, knowing full well the crime that he committed twenty years ago. Just one glance at you and he knew that you won’t forgive him. So when you fled, he didn’t bother to chase after you.

All you hear from behind is the aching cries of a young man.

———

Keep running.

Don’t look back.

Focus in front of you.

You run through the forest without a light source. You don’t even know if it’s the right direction back to town, but anywhere is better than there. It was just like that time when you narrowly escaped Taehyung’s grasps. He was so occupied with your sister that he lost sight of you. Just like history repeating itself, you barely escaped his grasp.

You hate yourself for falling into his trap for a second time. Like a pied piper luring children, it was like his curse never uplifted. No wonder it didn’t take a lot for you to turn down the chance to come back to the town. You never learned from your mistakes, and that’s because you kept running away. You ran away so often that you even forgot his face.

Tears blur your vision, so you use your forearm to wipe them away. Despite the revelation, the resurgence of painful reminices, you feel awful for running away from Taehyung. You can’t forget the times spent with him, sharing personal stories of yourself and vice versa, and your friendship deepening. You promised him that he can rely on you, but you already broke it. But...how do you keep a promise with the monster who not only took your sister, but also took away your childhood?

You’re so focused on wiping the tears away that you bumped into someone and fell down. You scream in terror, kicking your feet as you try to get up.

“Hey! (Y/N), calm down!”

The person tries to grab your flailing legs, but you only kick harder. “STOP IT! LET GO! HELP!”

“(Y/N), (Y/N), it’s me! It’s me, relax!!” You feel two hands cupping your cheeks so you can look at the person. “It’s me, Suniya.”

You stop panicking. But your mind feels foggy, and for a moment, you’ve forgotten where you’re at.

“We work together. You’re a journalist, and I’m your agent. You’re twenty-six years old and live in the city. You graduated from the University of Redlands, and you’re the daughter of two parents who live miles away from you. You came here with a researcher to study the town called Little Bare. I came here because I was worried since I couldn’t contact you, then Miss Kim led me here.”

Your breathing becomes steady, regaining control of your unstable mind. It all comes back to you, and now that you got the chance to process what’s happened, your body becomes weak. The only thing you want to do now is cry. You hold onto Suniya, burying your face in her arms as you wail like a child.

Suniya is in shock, never seeing you cry this much before. She knew how much the Winter Bear affected you, but not to this extent, and it breaks her heart. She hugs you back, tears streaming down from her eyes as well.

“Suniya...I...lied. I lied to him again. I ran away. I got scared...I-I couldn’t think...then I left him there...An-Annie...I heard her cry. She was crying so much…”

“It’s okay...you’re safe. Don’t cry.” She hushes you.

She rocks you back and forth as you continue to sob. Your sentences are everywhere, but to question you in this state isn’t going to help. For now, what you need is to hide in somebody else’s arms until you’re okay.

———

“I shouldn’t never fucking agreed to this!” Suniya shouts.

In the room that you stayed in, Suniya is arguing with Kim. You’re sitting in the fetal position in the halls, your back against the wall. Even though the doors are closed, you can hear Yesosang’s voice as clear as day.

It’s the next morning, and you couldn’t sleep a wink. You and Suniya stayed in another room from the inn, not letting Kim know that you returned. The moment the sun rose, Suniya went straight to Kim’s room and has been arguing with her since.

“I thought I had to worry about you because (Y/N) can be a handful but...it was her that I should’ve been more concerned about. You're an absolute scum.”

“Please, try to understand from my viewpoint. Miss (Y/N)’s story needs to be heard—”

“‘Heard’? You mean use?! You don’t give a fuck about what she went through. I should’ve known better and not leave her in the hands of a stranger.”

“You didn’t need to word it that way. I was just trying to help her. I feel like, as a scholar in pursuit of knowledge, she has every right to remember every second of her memories.”

“Oh, don’t give me that scholar bullshit!! You’re no different than those Hollywood people exploited this damn town for money, and you’re not even different from us who are trying to live each day trying to make money. (Y/N)’s repressed memory is not your textbook!”

You can’t handle all this shouting anymore. You’re upset with yourself to make Suniya come all the way here, wasting her family time just to find you. Even though she blames Kim, you feel accountable for agreeing to go on this trip. Suniya can blame your mental instability all she wants, you’re still an adult, and you still said yes.

You wonder what Taehyung’s doing right now. Hopefully, he isn’t cold.

“We’re leaving tonight. You can stay stranded here for all I care. When we get back, we’re going to make sure that every publication doesn’t want to work with you,” Suniya stomps out of the room, taking you by the hand and dragging you with her. “Let’s go, (Y/N).”

As you two walk down the halls, she can sense the immense amount of guilt you’re carrying. She knows you’re blaming yourself, so she slows down and holds both of your hands.

“It’s not your fault, so stop worrying.”

You want to stop, but the guilt won’t leave. Once again, it’s suffocating thinking about what you could’ve done to prevent this from happening.

———

Outside, a gust of wind nearly blows Suniya off of her feet. She was only able to keep still because she was holding onto you. “Holy shit, is the weather always this bad??”

“It became like this recently.”

“Ugh…if this continues, then we might not be able to leave. Sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s fine.”

Just as you two were returning to the inn, Magaret chases after you two. “Hold up just a minute! (Y/N), can I have a word with you?”

“Who are you?”

“It’s okay, Suniya. Margaret’s been taking care of me.”

She hugs you, almost making you break your back. “Oh dear god, I’m glad you’re alright. I heard that you went off into the forest with that young man. He didn’t touch you, did he?”

You shake your head.

“Thank god. Sheriff Tusk is currently looking for him and will make sure that his ass goes to prison.”

“Wait, what?”

“You can never fully trust men. They’re deceitful and only strive for one thing, and that’s—”

“Is there something important you wanted to say to (Y/N)? We’re in a bit of a hurry to leave.” Suniya saw how disturbed you became when she mentioned Taehyung.

Margaret scoffs. “In this weather? Lady, you’re gonna die if you go today.”

“Why?”

“It’s gonna be ‘nother blizzard happenin’ tonight, and it’s crazier than it’s ever been before. You outta stay one more night.”

But Suniya doesn’t have the patience to deal with another person. “Look, I know you guys don’t have that many outsiders, but I know when locals are trying to make tourists cough out as much money as possible. We’ll be taking our leave.”

What Margaret said about Sheriff Tusk going out to look for Taehyung, so it worries you that he’ll get in trouble. But knowing how quickly Suniya wants to leave this place, she won’t want to stay.

“Wait...I think you should listen to her…”

“You too??”

“The weather here can be pretty bad. We should stay one more night.”

“...Will you be fine…?”

You nod. “I’m not a kid.”

But she seems hesitant, but seeing as the weather is getting worse, it might be for the best. Besides, you’ve been here longer than she has, so she has no choice but to abide by your request. “Okay…”

Margaret’s eyes haven’t left you, clearly showing how worried she is for you. However, she doesn’t say anything as she knows you might want to brush it off. “Yea...it might be for the better.”

———

Later that night in the inn, you’re laying in bed while Suniya is taking a shower. And just like what Margaret said, the town is going through yet another blizzard. This time, it’s heavier compared to the first one. You’re still thinking about everything that happened the night before. You don’t know how you were unable to recognize Taehyung since the beginning.

Did you really repress your memories that much that you forgot his face? The cries from the children’s souls are still imprinted in your mind. Perhaps in the back of your head, you had a hutch that it was him, but his purity made you doubt yourself. Maybe you were keen on going back to him to confirm that it isn’t him from twenty years ago that you ignored the red flags.

Despite the tragedy that he caused in your family, you can’t forget the times spent together. Exposed to the reality of the world made you disregard that there are kind people like Taehyung. He’s caring...but you keep going back to when he lured you and Annie to his cave. It’s conflicting, like two sides of him that you know are real, yet they challenge one another. On one side, he’s your antagonist, but on the other side, he’s like a savior.

There’s a knocking at the door, alerting you. You get up, wondering if you should open it, but seeing as the knocking won’t stop, you get out of bed and open it. On the other side is Kim.

“Hi, Miss—” You nearly slam the door in her face, but she put her weight on the door just in time. “P-please, just give me a minute to explain! I just want to apologize for my selfishness!! I should’ve known better than to take advantage of your trauma.”

You take a second to rethink before opening it for her. You glance at the bathroom, hearing the showerhead still going off.

“You have until Suniya finishes showering to tell me.”

“Thank you…uhm...Again, I’m sorry...I was caught up with my own goals that I lost myself for a second. But...there are a few things that I’ve been doing way before I met you…” she shows you a vanilla folder in her arms. “Here’s some information that I’ve gathered from the town’s archives. It was not an easy task to obtain, so please take good care of them.”

 She passes the folder to you. When you open it, it’s filled with records that look so old that it’ll crumble at any second. Some of these papers feel like it’s decades old too.

“What’s this?”

“My research. I hope this is enough for you to forgive me...I think it’ll really help you with figuring out who Taehyung is and what this curse is.”

And just like that, Kim leaves. You close the door and set the folder down on the desk, spreading every individual paper out for you to read. Some of them are extremely old—going as far as the late 1800’s. The papers on top of the stack are about every recorded disappearance in Little Bare, even some that came after Annie’s. In total, there are a little under sixty child disappearances. As you go through each article, from most recent to oldest, you notice that at some point, the Winter Bear lore became big in the news in the 1950s when a wealthy child went missing. There was even an attempt to make a film out of it but was cancelled due to how controversial it was. To some extent, there was a children’s book in the 1940s about the bear as well.

But as you go back in time, there tends to be less coverage in the early 1900s, most likely due to new coverage of the two World Wars being more favored. A majority of its timeline has been skipped over, and now you’re in the 1880s with newspapers with titles like Exclusive!! Small Town Cursed with Black Magic or Real-Life Witch Doctor Lives!! Cave is an Accessway to Hell. The columns come with pictures of supposed real cave drawings, all are shapes resembling animals, some are birds, dogs, fish, and...bears. There are outrageous claims that the one responsible for those drawings used their blood.

However, as you skim through the articles, it explains what the purpose of those drawings are. Each one resembles the strength of each animal, bird = flight, fish = underwater breathing, etc. There are also theories that the etchings give the holder the ability to shapeshift, though it’s limited. In the third and last article, the title says, Breaking News: Immortality Exists...Or Does It?

Once you go through the papers, you make it to the last few papers. It’s been clipped together with a paperclip, and it’s a record of residences who previously lived in Little Bare. As you flip through them, some pages stick out to you. Some names in each year are highlighted with yellow, and it doesn’t take long for you to learn the pattern. Every name that Kim has colored in are Korean immigrants, and, in particular, there’s a large spike in Korean names in the 1910 records. In that exact, there’s only one name that has been highlighted and circled.

The name is Kim Taehyung.

After 1910, the Korean population here decreased significantly, to where there were no more. And the paper at the bottom of the stack is a black-and-white copy of a photograph with all the Korean immigrants that moved into Little Bare in that year. One there’s a pair that stands out to you. It’s a younger version of Taehyung smiling, and standing behind him is a woman, presumably his mother.

That’s when everything clicked for you. And in that moment, you take the picture from the folder, put on your boots and scarf, and take your thick coat before running out through the doors. You can’t wait for this blizzard to die down, and you have a feeling that it won’t if you don’t go now.

But you stop in your tracks, returning to the room, almost forgetting something. You look through the drawers to grab something small before putting it in your pocket before dashing back out.

———

The blizzard is more intense than ever before, even to the point to where you can barely see anything. Even opening your eyes wider already feels like they’ll freeze. You trek onward to the cave, praying that he’s still there. You’re fully aware at how ridiculous and idiotic this is, like you could’ve waited until it calmed down. But deep down, you know it won’t die down until you find him.

Thankfully, you made it to the cave without any problems. You pick up the pace as you enter the cave, shivering almost to death. Even with multiple layers of clothes, you’re freezing to the point where you can’t feel your feet. In front of you is the black hole that belongs to the cave. The cries of the childrens that Taehyung has taken lurks on the other side. You gulp, clenching your fists to stop them from trembling. You look over your shoulder at the blizzard. You can’t turn back now, so you have to push forward.

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and continue walking. The deeper you went, the louder the cries became. The walls start closing in, and on there are also the same animal drawings from the newspapers. The sound of water droplets complements the hollow cries. It’s getting so loud that it’s beginning to unnerve you. You want to cover your ears, but even if you do, the dreadful cries won’t leave.

But you know that the kids are trying to warn you to leave. They don’t want you to make the same mistakes they made. They’re children—pure souls who lost their young lives. They don't have any intentions to play tricks on you, so that’s why you have to keep pushing through because you have unfinished business.

“(Y/N)...” A young girl’s voice calls out from behind.

Even though you haven’t heard that voice in years, you know exactly who it is. Turning your head around, an apparition of Annie forms. There she is—in her blue-and-white striped dress and pink jacket with the brown boots. She hasn’t aged a bit, but she’s crying.

“Don’t go. Go back home where you have a warm house and people who care about you.” Annie whimpers.

Hearing her speak weighs heavily on your chest. You can’t hold back the tears, so you let it out.

She extends her hand out. “If you don’t hurry, then you’ll freeze to death here.”

Your knees almost gave in, nearly making you fall. Even though you know full well that she can’t be alive, a part of you feels relieved to see her again. It may not even be her, just a recreation that Taehyung made. She has to be his recreation because a two-year-old wouldn’t know to say this.

You approach her spirit, crouching down to her level. You wipe your eyes, exhaling while you smile. “Hi Annie, thanks for warning me. You’re just trying to look out for your older sister, aren’t you?”

She continues to cry, nodding her head.

“It’s okay, you can trust me now. Your big sister is now a grown up. I’m just going to talk to our friend.”

“But! That’s not a friend! He’s a monster who’s done bad things. It’s his fault that I died and that Mom and Dad hates you. He’s made you miserable. He’s the problem!” She cries even louder.

You tilt your head, your grin not once leaving. “I know, but sometimes people do things because they’ve been wronged, too. They won’t know that they’re doing something bad until they learn the good in the world. Our friend was just lonely because he left his homeland, then his parents left him, and no one wanted to be his friend.”

Annie finally stops crying.

“So when he finally made a friend, he wanted it to last forever. That’s why he took their souls. It didn’t help when he had more bad luck and became immortal and has supernatural powers. I just know that deep down, he’s a good person who’s been on the wrong path for a very long time. Right...Taehyung?”

You stand up, turning around after the spirit of your sister disappears. The cries from the children dissipate, and the only one left crying is Taehyung. You approach him slowly, and as you get closer, you can hear him repeatedly mumbling, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ under his breath.

“Am I right, Taehyung? It just got out of hand, and your fear took over you.”

“...I hate opening my eyes to this empty cave. Because I know that whenever I went to town, everyone else would have friends or families to return to when I had nobody. And I never asked to be cursed to live forever either! Why couldn’t I have died a long time ago?!”

He continues to wallow in his own misery.

“And it’s worse when I’m only awake during winter. I don’t even remember what spring, summer, or fall looks like...”

A bear who doesn’t sleep during winter isn’t strong, but a lonely animal because he’ll be the only one awake. Taehyung may be able to live for a long time, but in exchange, he has to hibernate for nine months because the curse is too strong to hold.

“I don’t want to be attached to you. I’m afraid that I’ll try to take you away, but I’m also scared that I’ll never see you again. (Y/N), you’re the only person who’s ever showed me kindness after a hundred years...and I’m afraid that I’ll never experience that again. So please...leave me when you still have the chance. You have a life out there.”

“You don’t have to stay here! You can live with me and—”

“You think I haven’t tried leaving? I’ve tried leaving so many times, but each time I try, I feel like I’m on a leash. The further I go, the more suffocating it gets. An invisible rope is around my neck, but I don’t die. You don’t understand...I’m stuck here forever.”

You don’t want to think about the many attempts he’s tried to end his life. You can’t imagine how you’ll turn out if you were stuck in his position. You’ll probably become insane like him, too. Waking up to the same snowy setting with no one to be there for you. After all, the color white can make people go insane if you see it too much.

You tighten your fists. “Then...then I’ll stay.”

“What?!”

“Let the children’s spirits free and I can stay with you.”

But he shakes his head. “No...don’t give me hope. Just go! Don’t waste yourself with me.”

“No, you listen to me. I’m willing to do it.”

“But...why?! I’ve made your life horrible, and I selfishly took your sister away. I’m the cause of all your problems! I don’t deserve anything from you.”

The pressure of the lives he’s taken away is beginning to weigh down on him, and it’s so much that he can’t handle it. It’s a complicated conflict where he took away so many loved ones from their family, including Annie, but the world was so unfair to him before he fell under this cave’s curse. He didn’t kill because he enjoyed it, but because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions and ended up releasing it in a way he never consciously meant to happen. No matter how hard you try to forget what he’s done, it’ll never leave. It’s engraved into your memory regardless of how much you’ve tried to repress it. You can’t forget but…

You scour through your pocket, showing him the watermelon-flavored candy. He’s confused, but in exchange, you beam. “This is my favorite flavor, and it’s yours too, isn’t it?”

You unwrap it, giving the candy to him. When he doesn’t accept it, you nudge it to him, then he hesitantly takes it.

“Eat it and let the bitterness go away.”

He stares at it, unsure of what your intentions are.

“Almost every kid loves candy, and it’s because of how sweet it is. It’s so sugary that it distracts them from their sorrow. But...it’s also special because of how short-lived the candy is. At some point, it’ll melt in your mouth, and then you’ll want another one, and you can’t keep eating it, otherwise your teeth will rot.”

He clenches it in his fist. “...Why are you going so far for me?”

“Because I like you.”

His eyes widen, almost as if he’s never heard of from somebody else. He thought he heard you wrong. Taehyung is so starstruck.

“I know I can never forget what you’ve done to Annie and what happened after...and honestly...I’m still conflicted. But after getting to know you, I realized that you’re a victim like anybody else. You can’t bring back the kids, but what you can do is learn from your mistakes. So...let the kids go and promise to never take another person’s life.”

You kiss him on the forehead for good luck. After pulling yourself back, but while you were caught off-guard, he leans over to give you a peck on the lips. He feels your chapped lips, which you find embarrassing, but doesn’t matter to him—only that his feelings have also been conveyed to you too.

He pulls back, too timid to look at you in the eyes. “I don’t want to disappoint you, so I vow to never take another person’s life, not even yours.”

“What…? T-Tae…”

“Like what you said, I can’t always be looking for ways to be in an infinite paradise. It’ll just leave me miserable, and I don’t want that to happen to you. What we had was special, and I’ll never forget it. So...it’s okay, you can go.”

From behind, you can hear children laughing. Small hands reach over, grabbing you by your jacket and dragging you away from him.

“Wa-wait, Taehyung! What are you doing?!”

He watches as you try to fight the children’s grasp, knowing full well that if they weren’t there to help him, then you wouldn’t leave. You have a feeling that this will be the last time you’ll see him, so you become choked up in your tears.

“No, don’t do this!”

But he doesn’t respond, afraid that if he says something, he’ll break down.

“Taehyung, I promise I’ll be back! I won’t leave you again! When you open your eyes for winter to come again, then I’ll be there to wake you up. And...even if I’m long gone, then I’ll make sure that you’ll never, ever, have to be alone,” You reach your hand out, extending your pinkie. “I promise.”

With one last look in your eyes, he saw hope. Over a hundred years later, he saw light at the end of the cave, that maybe one day, the curse that had been laid upon him will become a blessing. Maybe this time, he can see someone precious again without taking their life. Even if you don’t fulfill your side to the promise, just the facade of hope is enough to make him look forward to next winter.

Within a blink of an eye, he reaches over and wraps his pinky around yours. He’s so thankful that he’s crying uncontrollably.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

And with one swift move, the children’s spirits pull you out of the cave, separating you from him. Before you close your eyes, you could’ve sworn that you saw Taehyung in his child form, eating the candy that you gave him.

———

You regain consciousness after feeling someone shaking your shoulders. The first person you see is Suniya, bawling like a baby. When you opened your eyes, she froze, not sure about what to do next.

“Sun...Suniya?”

“Oh, thank god!” She hugs you tightly. “I was so scared that we lost you.”

You’re still in the woods. Though, the snow is beginning to melt and the sun is blaring down on your face. You look around to find all the townspeople surrounding you, including Kim.

“Jesus Christ, you gave all of us a fright, girl.” Margaret wipes her tears with her sleeve. “Goin’ out during the middle of a brutal blizzard. Are you insane?”

You look down at your hands, and they’re not trembling anymore. “I guess I am.”

It felt like a dream. In fact, every second you spent with Taehyung felt like a dream because of how fast time flew by. What you experienced in the cave, you don’t know if it actually happened.

You turn around, seeing that the cave is hollow. It’s a lot smaller than what you last remembered. The entrance is like a black hole, but it isn’t empty. But what’s better is that you don’t hear children crying anymore. You look back at the crowd, glancing at Kim who’s crossing her arms. One look and she knew that you overcame your trauma.

Suniya helps you up, putting your arm around her neck. Though your body is fine, your muscles feel weak.

“Come on, let’s go back and get you warmed up.”

“What the hell were you doin’ here, by the way?” Margaret asks.

“There’s just something that I needed to do...and I’m not done with it yet.”

[The End]

———

EPILOGUE

“Alright, next, I’m going to teach you how to make a campfire.”

You are standing in a circle around a bunch of kids. They’re wearing thick jackets with badges on them and have dark green hats with the symbol of a brown bear over a snowflake over them. They’re hugging their arms, shivering to the old.

“Do we have to make one now?”

“It’s too cold to do anything, Miss.”

“Can’t we just learn it back at the cabin?”

You shake your head. “The whole reason to make a campfire is to build it outside. Not only is the fire meant to keep you warm, but it also helps cook food and used as a light source.”

You grab some branches from the ground, wiping the snow off of it.

“You see how wet it is? It won’t make a good fire. It’s going to be difficult, but you need to find dry wood like this.”

You compare and contrast between the two, kicking snow off of the ground until you see dirt. You place the wood, taking out two rocks and creating friction to spark them. And just like that, you’re able to create fire. The kids stand around your campfire, awing at it as the flames rise.

However...the flames go out within seconds. “Oh…”

The children laugh. “What was that?”

“That was terrible!”

“Hold on, just give me one second…” You grab the wood to make a second attempt. “I swear it worked the first time.”

“Miss (Y/N), why are we camping during winter? Doesn’t girl scout camps happen during summer?”

“Yea! All my friends go during summer. My parents kept saying that this camp saves more money...but it’s unfair.”

“Well...let me tell you something. They can teach you all the methods of surviving during the summer, but almost every tip is thrown out the window when it’s snowing. I have a friend who used to be your age and didn’t know how to survive on his own in the winter. His mother abandoned him a long time ago and no one wanted to take care of him. So he was on his own.”

This gathers the attention of all the girls, so they surround you as you continue the story.

“He was starving and cold because he didn’t know the basics of survival, like making a campfire. He didn’t know how to fish nor did he know how to build a tent.”

“I hope she went to jail for abandoning her own child.”

“Why would his mother leave him?? That’s so messed up.”

“Sometimes, it’s not because they want to, but because they can’t. We’ll never fully know why she left him, but I think she did love him.”

“What? I think she hated him.”

“Because before she left him, she told him that he’s a strong boy. Maybe she left him because she knew that he'd survive. Of course, this is by no means a good method of parenting, but she had faith in her own son that he’ll make it through the winter.”

“I don’t think she cared about him,” one of the girl scouts crosses her arms. “Couldn’t he go to the police for help? They’re always there to help him find his home!”

“Yea, but it wasn’t that simple. You see, he was considered as...different, I guess you could say. People many years ago thought completely opposite from us, so no one wanted to help him.”

“Is he still alive?”

You fall silent, and this builds anticipation for your response. They draw closer to you, unable to handle the suspense.

“He’s still alive.”

They sigh in relief.

“Do you girls want to meet him?”

“Wait, can we??”

You nod. “He’s a little shy at first, but he’s super friendly.”

“How does he look like??”

“Hmm...he’s super tall,” you raise your arms up in the air. “And he has broad shoulders. His hair is so curly that it almost looks like cotton candy. He also has a mole under his nose and the most charming smile anybody has ever seen.”

You stare at the sky with dreamy eyes, and that’s when the girls understood the subtle hints. They elbow each other, giggling and covering their mouths.

But you’re clueless. “What’s so funny?”

“Do you have a crush on him, Miss (Y/N)?”

Your cheeks turn red, and they squeal with excitement. You press your knuckles on your lips as you become more flustered.

“Keep it a secret, but he’s my boyfriend.”

They scream, stunned that their leader has someone in her heart. You shush them, worried that their voices would disrupt the town’s peace.

“Di-did you guys do things...like kissing??” One girl whispers.

You nod, and they hide their screams behind their covered mouths. Then, you rub your stomach, feeling a lump. “Pretty soon, we’re gonna be a family.”

The girls have no idea what you meant, but they’re not at the age to learn about that yet.

“He’s the most important person in the entire world to me. He sleeps a lot, so I don’t get to see him that often, so every second I have with him matters until I get too old. Because of that, he’s afraid that one day when he opens his eyes, I won’t be there anymore. So, even if I’m gone, he’ll have enough friends that he won’t ever have to feel alone anymore.”

From behind a dead tree, you can see Taehyung hiding behind it. You snicker, certainly knowing that he heard the entire conversation. He’s probably trying to fight back his tears. Every time you visit him during winter, he would sob and express about how much he doesn’t deserve you. But since he went through decades of suffering, this is the least you can do to ease it.

You raise your head, pointing your direction to him. “Taehyung, would you like to sit with us?”

He peers his head over the tree, holding the bark gently while staring at the ground. He raises his eyes, trying his hardest to hide his smile.

“...Thank you.”

[End]

A/N: Thank you for everyone who read this, especially considering how long it is lol. I wanted to get this out during winter, but it took longer than expected ha ha. I hope you guys are all safe and healthy!! Don’t be afraid to leave any comments :) Have a beautiful day. ^^

Masterlist

[christarango]

I Interviewed the Guy Who Went Into a Museum & "Vandalized" a Picasso.

    In 2012, a man in a suit entered the Menil Collection in Houston, Texas.  That man was Uriel Landeros, a self proclaimed artist and a student at the University of Houston.   A cell phone video captured his visit to the prestigious musuem and was posted on YouTube the same day. The video quickly went viral and set the "Art World" on fire.  That's because Mr. Landeros brazenly walked up to Pablo Picasso's 1929 painting, "Woman in a Red Armchair" and spray painted directly onto the priceless piece of art.  In just a few seconds, the Picasso was altered, hanging there with a mysterious image of a bull and the word "Conquista" spray painted across the surface.  "Conquista" is a Spanish word that means "conquest" or "to conquer".  But why?  What did it mean?  The incident pissed off plenty of people worldwide and started heated debates about the true value of "art".  I had the opportunity to catch up with the artist..  vandal.. visionary.. terrorist.  or whatever it is you choose to call him.  

CT:  Who are you, where are you from?

UL:  I am CONQUISTA, the kid who conquered Picasso, but the name my father gave me is Uriel Landeros.  I was born in South Texas in the city of Edinburg, located in the Rio Grande Valley, but I consider Houston my second home because I went to art school there.  I am a Native/Mexican American.

CT:  As an artist, can you describe the work that you create?

UL:  The Majority of my work comes from my dreams and the subconscious, that other spiritual realm that most people don’t pay attention to.  I try to write down all of my dreams and create images from them. I also use all forms of meditation to influence my work, from fasting, sun gazing, prayer and psychedelic rituals. This is the spiritual side of my work but I also spend a lot of time watching news and current events, not only on TV & newspapers but also the Internet. I compare articles from different countries, independent and mainstream newspapers and bring about a conclusion of closer truth, and then I create political art from this. I try to create a voice that is a little rawer with truth trough my images; I stopped making art years ago though all I make now is art history. But both my spiritual and political work is intertwined. The world is one, everything is connected.

CT:  How did the concept to "destroy" a Picasso piece come about? Was it carefully planned or was it spontaneous?

UL:  The year 2012 was very chaotic for America and for the world, Like I said my work is influenced from all this mayhem, I meditated for so long trying to come up with an image of power and symbology. The image of the Conquista in particular came directly from a lucid dream. Once I obtained the image of the bullfighter slaying the golden bull with the all Seeing Eye, I began to plan the heist. It took about 2 months to completely plan everything; I drew blueprints, counted guards, created exit strategies, etc. It was like a hacker stealing classified information. My plan was never to destroy the Picasso painting, if I wanted to destroy it I would have slashed it with a knife or poured acid on it. The whole point was to leave a message to create a voice and spark another fire against this NEW WORLD ORDER. Believe me I know about paint, I am a professional; I knew that the painting would be easily restored.

CT:  Obviously you pissed off a lot of people. At the same time you suddenly had lots of attention on you & your work. Was that the idea from the beginning or did it accidentally happen that way?

UL:  Not everyone was pissed off, some people were very happy with what I did, many strangers clapped @ my actions & and continue to do so. Most of the people who were hating on me where so called “artists” who have never been able to break the veil of success. I did not know the future, I did not know that galleries would take interest in my art, especially not the world renown museum “The Palace of Fine Arts, MACG” in Mexico city.  When those things began to happen, I was skeptical because I thought that the museum and galleries were working with the F.B.I. and U.S. Marshalls.  But after some research I found out those opportunities were legit, so I welcomed them.  This helped me spread the message further. CT:  What's the deal with your solo art show in Houston following the incident? Apparently you were on a live video feed from Mexico. Can you tell me about that? Also, I heard some of your own artwork was destroyed.

UL:  James Art Gallery gave me a solo show in Houston; James Perez has been a friend of mine for several years. Ironically the title of the show was “ Houston, we have a problem”.  We promoted the event saying that I was going to show up at the event, I had been a fugitive for several months & already there was a $15,000 reward for me, so I knew that the cops were going to show up, but we tricked those pigs.  As you know I was there but through live video feed “Skype”.  I was logged in from an ice cream shop in Monterrey, Mexico.  I gave several interviews and said hello to all the people that attended the show.  My work was not destroyed, James and me invited all the local graffiti writers we could find and let them tag whatever they wanted on several of my paintings. The whole point of this was to show the art community that art is not about paintings but rather the message. Fuck the paintings, this is what Picasso would say “Art is a lie that enables us to see truth” For example The Guernica was not about making a pretty painting but rather transmitting the message of the horrors of genocide and war. Art is a weapon, painting and drawing is secondary to the true purpose of the art tool.  So I don’t care if people tag or graffiti my work, what matters is the message I convey. 

CT:  I definitely feel like you have a message that you're trying to convey. What are you all about, what's all this about?

UL:  First of all fuck the NEW WORLD ORDER, once more; I did this for the people who are tired of being treated like slaves. The Conquista was an artistic metaphor with much symbology.  A lot of the art community successfully digested the message although the reactions were diverse. I stenciled a bullfighter killing a bull with the word Conquista below it with spray paint in color gold on a 1929 Picasso painting. It was a lot of work to pull the heist but all the details are another story.  This graffiti was a form of protest/activism against the government and the corrupt church, who continue to abuse their power of imperial rape. A way to tell the people conquer your fear and stand up for injustice. There was much civil unrest all around the globe in the year 2012, the year of the conquista.  Remember the Occupy movement?  The anonymous organization, the immigrant protests in Arizona, and Wikileaks?  And even after I turned myself in to the authorities, it continued with Edward Snowden and the unraveling of the N.S.A. surveillance, abusing their power to infringe in our privacy. The word Conquista is my artist name, it is also the Spanish word for conquer, in reference to the conquistadores and the Spanish inquisition, the biggest unrecognized genocide in the world, because of gold and greed, “Capitalism in its cradle”. Those who converted the natives into Christianity through murder and rape, those same characters who are now looked upon like heroes such as Christopher Columbus. The word Conquista is also in reference to so many innocent kids who got raped by priest who went unpunished because pope Benedict XVI protected them by sending them to the Vatican and granting them political asylum. This was so controversial that the pope had to resign. Conquista is also in reference to the immigration reform and the dream act that president Obama promised and never fulfilled. My people my culture and my family is bullied around society because of the color of our skin because of racism and discrimination. Just look at the laws in Arizona, its as if its still the 1960s in that state. Discriminating against immigrants when in fact the only non-immigrants are the natives/Hispanics, my people. Nobody ever asked any conquistador for a passport or green card, how was this fucking hypocrisy born?  What the fuck is going on? All this seems like a big joke, nobody in power cares to make a positive difference; they are worried about policing the world and selling guns. This is the history that I have begun to convert into my story. The majority of native culture/archeology is now displayed in museums throughout Europe as trophies of genocide, and thus disables the Hispanic community to truly understand their history & culture, because that art is not in its native land. I cannot bring back all the art that was stolen by the conquistadors but I can create new history. New art, so that is what I did for my people. The golden bull represents the stock market, wall street, gold, money being idolized, The federal reserve, the biggest deceiving ponzi scheme that enslaves us all, and the president & government working for wall street banksters instead of the people. The golden bull also represents Picasso “ the Art Beast”, he who understood that art is not a painting or a drawing but rather a political tool to educate and influence the form of thinking of the masses. I am the bullfighter inspired by Picasso to use the art tool, doing the daring move to kill the golden beast. Conquering Picasso in his own game. Fighting against this whole corrupt system. The bullfighting culture and Picasso are both originally from Spain and this is the irony of a Native Mexican American conquering a Spaniard.

CT:  Whoa, thats heavy.  You were just released from jail for what you did, that's fucking crazy.  How long were you locked up?

UL:  I was in prison for 21 months, almost 2 years.

CT:  What were you thinking about while in prison? Any new concepts or artwork created during that time?

UL:  I was a prisoner before I went to prison, but it was in that dark cold place, in that cage, when I was hungry, when I meditated, that I understood what freedom was.  If your mind is free they can never imprison you. The power of the third eye is limitless, the universe is born from it. I created over 100 paintings and thousands of drawings. I will soon publish all these works online and I will exhibit them in a prison series for my next Art show. My force of creation has only gotten stronger.

CT:  What's next for you?

UL:  I am organizing my next event.  I will soon publish the date and details.  I am also in the process of publishing a book about the entire story, all the things I could not say because of lawful repercussions, how I pulled the heist (it was some oceans 11 shit) and also my life as a fugitive.

CT:  How can we follow you and see how this evolves?

UL:  I’m always accessible through Facebook that is the social media of my choice, but I also have twitter, instagram, pinterest, photobucket, vine, we heart it and email of course. Or just watch the news or Google me.

CT:  Best of luck to you!  Anything else you want to add?

UL:  Yea I just want to give a shout out to everyone out there trying to provoke and stimulate a positive change in the world, all those free hugs people, all the honest police and every activist who has put their life in danger for the benefit of the community, especially Edward Snowden, thank you.

[kittae]

period movie fics | masterlist

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

inspired by the movie: Marie Antoinette

moodboard 

summary: 

Being a duchess by birth is all fun and games until you reach the ripe age of 20 to find yourself a suitable husband. Or rather, you flee into the warm comfort of pretty dresses, shoes and other material delights while your father keeps record of every available duke and prince (less won’t do) he can find. Your escapism earns you the newfound title of “shopaholic” as a good portion of your fortune gets traded for silk and lace. It lasts until your scheduled appointment with the poor but immensely handsome talented portraitist, Kim Taehyung, to have your portrait painted for your father to show your suitors. 

Many such appointments are needed to bring your image to life on canvas, but only one is needed to know those portraits will never meet their purpose after you’ve fallen for the everything-but-a-wealthy-prince Taehyung, and vice versa, at the drop of one of your many hats.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

inspired by the movie: A Knight’s Tale

moodboard

summary:

Jeon Jeongguk, a splendid young knight defending his jousting champion title for four consecutive years since he was only seventeen years old and your resident heartbreaker. You, an unremarkable ‘apple girl’, selling the fruit from your family’s orchard on the streets and jealousy running through your every nerve almost as green as the apples in your basket when gazing upon the brave young man during tournaments. Jealousy that is certainly not directed at the pretty and dolled up ladies sitting in the tribunes, catching fleeting kisses blown from the hand of the knight whose heart they’d wish to hold, whose lance they’d wish to touch. 

No, this jealousy is reserved only for the man whose praises are being sung after winning yet another jousting match, whose banners billow high upon the poles of the stadium. You swear, you would see that shit eating grin eating the sand of the arena instead one day. When he looks up, he would watch yours beaming down on him from your high horse.

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

inspired by the movie: Casanova

moodboard

summary:

Is it easy to be a free thinking woman in the 18th century? Most certainly not, but that won’t stop you from breaking into the university auditorium during lectures to give some gratuitous, poignant ones of your own, mostly about an unpopular subject: feminism. You have had more than enough of the way women are collectively being degraded to walking lust objects, all the while getting denied proper education and personal freedom. You loathe the majority of the men you encounter on the streets and inside the buildings of Venice, with one in particular; Kim Seokjin alias Casanova, a womanizer with the sole ambition of getting into the skirts of every single living, breathing woman in the city. 

There is one man, however, who keeps you from losing all hope in the male sex. A famous and controversial writer, anonymously writing illegal feminist books under the pseud of Ink Jose. In love with his beautiful mind and ideology, you send him heartfelt letters that soon turn into a regular correspondence when he sends one back every time. Needless to say your heart almost beats out of your chest when he asks you to meet him at a masquerade ball, one evening.

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

inspired by the movie: The Three Musketeers

moodboard

summary:

For someone with the reputation of being “too clever for her own good”, you sure made a stupid mistake carelessly letting your medicine books and anatomy studies lie around your room. One inspection by the inquisition was all it took to get you pinned as a witch, forcing you to go into hiding and slip unnoticed out of town, at the darkest hour of the night. Not as unnoticed as you’d hoped, as you literally run into a man with bright smiles and witty comments who introduces himself as Jung Hoseok; Musketeer and at your service. 

While you do not appreciate being considered a damsel in distress, you are in no position to refuse his services. You take his offer of seeking refuge at the Musketeer headquarters after you’d shared your situation with him. The only condition being that you’ll use your knowledge of healing practices and medicine to help the organisation. You decide to trust him, and that trust steadily blossoms into something much more intimate the more time you spend with the energetic and sassy Musketeer. Who knew life could look so rose-coloured while in the midst of a witch hunt?

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

inspired by the movie: The Greatest Showman

moodboard

summary:

Ever since he was a little boy, Kim Namjoon has been obsessed with the circus. He remembers secretly watching the shows from underneath the tribunes inside the tent to marvel over the graceful acrobates, exotic animals, contortionists, and many other spectacular acts until he got chased out for being a non-paying spectator. His dream is to launch a circus of his own one day, one to rival the famous names touring the globe in caravan. Little by little, he manages to get some performers together to create an act, by sparing the food out of his mouth to be able to pay and keep them.

Everything gets put on the fast track when he meets you, a fortune teller he goes to see out of desperation when he runs out of money and the whole thing starts to seem hopeless. Following your advice to a T, he lets go of all common sense when he starts noticing many positive changes and luck finally seems to be on his side when his dream becomes within his reach. That is until he stumbles upon something that makes his entire faith in you falter.

Pairing: Jimin x reader

inspired by the movie: Moulin Rouge

moodboard

When you say you work at the famous, luxurious and lavish nightclub annex brothel Moulin Rouge, wildly exciting images come to mind until you mention your job as a seamstress. Being hauled up in the attics along with your colleagues (old women chattering about recipes for the perfect peach compote making out a great percentage), nothing is less true. Your days are filled with mending the girls’ stage outfits, their personal wardrobe and even lingerie, all while far away from the revelry downstairs. Still, you can’t help but slip out of your dusty workplace once in a while, to sneak a peek at the beautiful girls letting their skirts twirl and fly up during french Cancans, gracefully kicking their dance partner’s top hats off with their elegant, bare legs. You’ve religiously watched these glamorous women from afar, frequently enough you could remember every dance routine, know the club’s schedule like your back pocket. 

Your bleak and boring life turns around 180 degrees when one of the girls gets an acute case of the flu, while you happen to be at the right place at the right time. The show must go on, after all, until a series of events cause you to meet the young , shy and slightly out of place gentleman Park Jimin. If love at first sight exists, it comes crashing down on you the moment he, quite literally, falls for you when his friends give him an encouraging push towards the dancefloor. 

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

inspired by the movie: Amadeus

moodboard

By the age of 25, Min Yoongi had already composed no fewer than 12 operas,  30 piano concertos, 14 string quartets, 25 sonatas for piano and violin, and 34 symphonies. Being what the people believe to be the musical prodigy of the century, a genius if you will, expectations of his work only keep rising. Locked up in his studio for the majority of his youth, only few actually know what he even looks like, with the exception of the people who have watched him direct the orchestra himself, during premiers of his work or exclusive personal performances of his piano concertos.

For his new opera, featuring many ballet scenes, he requests the collaboration with a prestiguous dance school. You, one of the students at the school, are dying to get a spot among the chosen ones to be a part of a work of THE Min Yoongi. Dance is your whole life, your passion, your reason for living. You spend as many hours practicing as Yoongi does composing in his studio, though neither of you know of the other. That is until Yoongi comes to introduce his music to the dancers himself, by playing parts on the piano in the practice room. Yoongi purposefully chooses not to be part of the judging board during auditions, but when he sees you dance during a choreography lesson... He’s almost tempted to rewrite the entire composition.

[shirlleycoyle]

Investors Are Debating Who Should Own the Future of Psychedelics

Since podcast host and author Tim Ferriss, an influential player in the psychedelics space, tweeted his concerns about psychedelic patents earlier this month, there has been public debate among leading voices in the field about the perils and merits of patenting psychedelic compounds and psychedelic-assisted therapies. In the past week, Ferriss and psychedelics investor Christian Angermayer published open letters that dug into the nuts and bolts of whether psychedelics should—or even must—be patented. It's a seemingly arcane debate with something very clear at stake: The future of psychedelic therapies that show real promise in the treatment of conditions from depression to addiction.

Ferriss has been a vocal supporter of psychedelic therapy research on his platforms, and has invested millions of his own money while organizing financial commitments to the Johns Hopkins Center for Psychedelic and Consciousness Research and Imperial College London. Angermayer helped fund mental health company Compass Pathways and co-founded ATAI Life Sciences, and initially responded to Ferriss' concerns by tweeting, “Tim I am [a] HUGE fan of your work, but on this topic you are incredibly misguided,” along with a statement. 

This prompted Ferriss to respond with a blog post in which he posed several questions to Angermayer about psychedelic IP, making clear that he hopes Compass and ATAI will "succeed in helping many millions of people." One question was: “Would you be willing to allow scientists who have signed deals with Compass or ATAI to share their agreements publicly (i.e., waive confidentiality clauses)? I believe that would quell some of the concerns among psychedelic advocates. If not, why not?”

Another was, “Do you think a monopoly/duopoly of any type (Compass or ATAI or otherwise), patents on basic elements of the psychedelic experience, or patents covering dozens of possible conditions that might be treatable…would be good for the ecosystem, for innovation, or for ensuring affordable pricing?” 

Anyone interested in psychedelics should pay close attention to these questions. Who gets patents and for what will shape what psychedelic medicine looks like in the future— who distributes it, how much it costs, and, therefore, who has access to it. 

It’s an interesting turning point for the psychedelic community. After decades of fighting for its legitimacy, the field is flooded with new companies that want to take part. And while every promising pharmaceutical drug contends with intellectual property, profit, ownership, and patent law, the conflict between the ethos that often accompanies psychedelic experiences (as well as a deep-rooted belief in its ability to help people) and the imperatives of capitalism has produced lengthy deliberations of whether psychedelic medicine can and should operate differently. 

This brings us to Angermayer’s response to Ferriss' blog post, which was posted on LinkedIn yesterday and is wide-ranging and worth reading in full for thoughts on the purpose behind patents and for-profit companies, the complications of bringing psychedelic therapy to market, and his views on why psychedelic therapy IP can co-exist with indigenous or shamanistic psychedelic use. (For example, he wrote that while one common counterargument against psychedelic patents is that shamans have been using them for thousands of years, "this argument from my point of view regularly comes from a place of entitlement and privilege.") Angermayer also points out that this patent debate "does not feature prominently within other areas of medical research."

Who gets patents and for what will shape what psychedelic medicine looks like in the future— who distributes it, how much it costs, and, therefore, who has access to it. 

Though Angermayer addresses the adjacent concern that companies will "come knocking on somebody’s door to confiscate homegrown plants" (they won't), all of the back and forth boils down to this: Is an aggressive patent strategy necessary to bring psychedelics to market, considering that it's the way biotech has always done things? Will or won't such a strategy create meaningful limits on how other companies, scientists, or the general population interact with psychedelic medicine? 

Angermayer wrote, in many different ways, about why he thinks patents are the way forward, and how they won't directly lead to limitations for others. He described how "different companies and players may develop their own versions of the off-patent and/or naturally occurring compounds and their own therapeutic regimens and patent or not patent their innovations as they choose. That’s the nature of free enterprise, free market and free choice." 

In response to Ferriss' question about monopolies, Angermayer wrote, "If a monopoly/duopoly emerged, it suggests that all the other would-be competitors had failed with their own creative and entrepreneurial endeavours. Then it would be a sign of quality and constitutional reward. In that case, you should not blame them, but blame the rest, who then clearly would have not done a good job."

But in an March 8 email shared with Motherboard by a source who wanted to remain anonymous, Angermayer expressed a different sentiment. The email was sent to a group of investors and a select few others in the psychedelic space, and outlined updates on companies Angermayer is involved in. 

In bullet points regarding Compass Pathways, Angermayer wrote: “I also expect a starting differentiation between solid players in the psychedelics space—to be honest I really just see ATAI and Compass—and copycats. Most of these copycats miss one important thing: patents. Many psychedelic companies out there will never be able to bring a product to market, as they will hit the patents of Compass and Atai.” 

Screenshot from Christian Angermayer's March 8 email sent to investors and others in the psychedelic field.

Here, Angermayer explicitly wrote that other companies will "never" be able to bring their products to market because of Compass’ patent strategy. Yet in his public response to Ferriss' question about increasing prices, he wrote that the best way to avoid such increases was competition.

In response to questions about this statement, Angermayer told Motherboard that he does not see a discrepancy between what he wrote on LinkedIn and in the email. "I do not see the contradiction," he said. "I welcome legitimate competition, which is competition that develops their own versions of the off-patent and/or naturally occurring compounds and their own therapeutic regimens. Or does any other novel stuff." 

He also added that, "What I do observe, and this is why I indeed mainly just see ATAI and Compass and very few other legit players at the moment, is many copycats with dubious business plans and no IP strategy. So the word 'copycats' I use in my email from early March directly points to companies not doing their own ways. And if you look at funds raised, the market is actually already casting its (early) vote. And of course if others are not able to find their own novel ways but would merely violate existing patents, my portfolio companies would have to protect their rights." 

The background story here is crucial to understanding why special scrutiny is being placed on this conversation—specifically regarding Compass Pathways' actions and intent. Compass received ire for its transition from a non-profit to for-profit company; in a 2018 article for Quartz, Olivia Goldhill interviewed psychedelics experts who believed that Compass was setting itself up to be a gatekeeper to the psilocybin compound. 

Compass' already-granted patent—for its formulation of synthetic psilocybin—was contentious; it was challenged multiple times by Carey Turnbull, a board member of Usona Institute and the nonprofit Heffter Research Institute. Compass has also had controversial investors, like venture capitalist Peter Thiel, the co-founder of PayPal.

Compass’ current international patent applications have attracted attention for including rudimentary elements of psychedelic-assisted therapy, like eye shades, holding hands, or listening to music. Its international applications also include claims for a wide variety of conditions outside of just depression, like neurocognitive disorders, chronic pain, reducing inflammation, anxiety disorders, like OCD, headache disorders, and eating disorders. 

As patent lawyer Graham Pechenik previously told Motherboard, claims in patent applications are rarely granted as is, but Compass filing so many broad claims has raised eyebrows at what the goal is. Is it to raise revenue to conduct research and bring psychedelics to the public, or to gain ownership over large swaths of the field and prevent others from entering it? While Angermayer’s public response to Ferriss suggests that any "legitimate" competition won't be stifled as a direct result of a company like Compass' patent strategy, his private email to his investors could easily be read otherwise.  

Patent lawyer David Casimir previously told Motherboard that filing broad patent applications is a common tactic—even including claims that companies know aren’t patentable. But it can lead to bad patents, Casimir said. “If the patent office doesn't do a good job, then they'll say, 'Okay, you can have this broad claim.'” 

A broadly granted patent could potentially give a company to have ownership over how a drug is prescribed and used legally. When and if psilocybin is approved by the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA), it could be accompanied by a Risk Evaluation and Mitigation Strategy, or REMS. A REMS outlines therapeutic processes or require doctors prescribing them to have undergone a particular training. If a granted patent echoes elements of the REMS, then anyone wanting to use this therapy would have to license whatever is in the patent from the patent holder. 

And patents can have an effect even if a company with a granted patent doesn’t seek to stop anyone else from using their invention: It can drive investors to pick certain companies over others, and keep competition at bay by the directing of funds into the hands of the organization who holds the most IP. 

Lars Wilde, one of the three co-founders of Compass, told VICE in 2020 that Compass’ patents were not intended to prevent other people from making psilocybin. “The question has been raised many times, whether we would stop researchers from doing research and [the answer is] absolutely not,” Wilde told VICE. 

Angermayer’s email suggests, though, that one of the results of its patents would be to hinder others from bringing a psychedelic product to market. In his response to a request for comment, Angermayer said that's not necessarily the case. "Just to emphasize, there will be more companies than ATAI and Compass, already just because I financed some more, which we will announce soon," he said. "So there are other good companies out there indeed, but most of them in stealth doing exactly what healthy competition is all about: exploring their own ways and niches."

On Monday night, Rick Doblin, the founder and executive director of the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS), tweeted a lengthy response to Angermayer acknowledging that “easier access to capital is a key advantage of for-profit psychedelic drug development over non-profit drug development reliant on philanthropy,” but disagreeing with the notion that patents are “essential” to moving the field forward. He originally responded to Ferriss’ tweet saying that MAPS was engaging with patent attorneys to strengthen its anti-patent strategy for MDMA. 

Doblin described how the FDA can offer “exclusivity” for the drug development of substances that are not patentable, which is different from patents because it doesn’t block others from marketing the same drug at the same time, on their own dollar. His statement said he thought that new inventions, like molecules similar to known psychedelics, were appropriate to seek patents for—but he pushed back against the notion that there were viable patents to be found in psilocybin-assisted psychotherapy. 

“There is prior art regarding psychedelic assisted psychotherapy from the 1950s and 1960s and onwards, so for-profit companies will not be able to patent the core methods of psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy,” he wrote. “Attempts to patent therapeutic methods invented by others are doomed to fail, reputationally terrible, and capitalism gone rouge.”

In Angermayer's LinkedIn post, he addressed the common concern about the intersection of psychedelics and capitalism. "Some others use the patent discussion to express their discomfort with capitalism itself," he wrote. "I personally believe that capitalism—though it has its flaws—is by far the best economic system tried to date and that many, especially young people who flirt with socialism at the moment forget the destruction, pain and death socialism has brought for hundreds of millions of people over the years."

Doblin’s response concluded that, “To the extent that ATAI and Compass seek to profit from blocking others through patents on processes or therapeutic methods that they didn’t invent, they will fail and will squander their potential to be a force for healing and profit." 

In Ferriss’ blog post, he wrote that he wasn’t anti-profit—he's an investor himself. Similarly, most if not all psychedelic researchers intimately understand that it takes a lot of money to do quality research, conduct clinical trials, and bring a drug to the masses, let alone train therapists to administer that drug properly. 

This continuing dialogue around patents seems to be more so about what IP is ultimately for: Is it meant to fund the work, or to prevent others from doing the same—and make a profit at the expense of access? Public conversations like these, as well as the granting and consequences of patents in the future, will help to hone in on the answer. 

"Compass and other for-profit companies have the potential to do a ton of good in the world," Ferriss wrote in his blog post. "I also think that the nature and incentives of capitalism can breed strategies that are very bad for innovation, and we need individuals, groups, and third-party organizations to watch for them and mitigate them..In the end, the people who would most suffer as a result of the possible problems I’ve outlined are the millions of people who most need psychedelic medicine." 

Follow Shayla Love on Twitter.

Investors Are Debating Who Should Own the Future of Psychedelics syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[goldfinchhoneybee]

Mass Reproduction & Technological Advances: How Technology and Dissemination is Damaging Our Society

Mass Reproduction & Technological Advances:

How Technology and Dissemination is Damaging Our Society

How have advances in print; the Gutenberg moveable type printing press, linotype, etc., and technology; computers, the Internet, Twitter, etc., assisted in dissemination; to spread (something, especially information) widely, and thus caused a downfall in general society?

Firstly, structural differentiation, the move in society from simple to complex, “creates problems of communication and control” while “mass media and other means of communication emerged in part to help resolve some of these problems.”

The Gutenberg press is an excellent example of a moment in history of structural differentiation. Its invention allowed for books to be printed at a rate never before seen in history and marked a new age of information. As stated in Mr. Abel’s book, The Gutenberg Revolution, the invention of the moveable type printing press “completely and radically restructured the trade in intellectual products and thereby, even more radically, enlisted a vastly increased number of minds recruited too the challenge of formulating more and better solutions to the ever-constant problems arising in human society.” To follow that quote up with another by philosopher and social critic Walter Benjamin, "mass reproduction contributed to human emancipation by promoting new modes of critical perception.”

These advancements should have just led to improvements and the spread of factual knowledge, growing until the day technology stepped up to the plate with computers and the Internet. The spread of ideas should have been flowing rapidly, instead the advancement came too fast and society does know how to navigate them properly.

With all this in mind, if mass media and dissemination is meant to solve the problems of communication and control, then when did we as a society move into a world where misinformation spreads rampant? When did the technological advances move past being a helpful solution to making our lives more difficult?

This question of why the rapid spread of information is no longer emancipating the population should be of great concern in our society. Especially in light of situations like the video captured of the MAGA (Make America Great Again) and other protesters in Washington DC on January 18th, 2019. The limited information available about the situation spread too quickly, assumptions and interpretation were made without all of the facts, and many people stuck their foot in their mouth by spreading untruths and accusations before they could assess the situation further.

As we have advanced through history these technological advances have occurred closer together and society has not had the time to adjust to use these technological advancements, like Twitter, more judiciously or within more stringent regulations to prevent the spread of misinformation. So print is not entirely to blame for the downfall in this situation. The printing press had its rise and fall in society and now has regulations to balance what is printed/published. “This sudden acceleration in the generation and exchange of ideas and some of the many consequences flowing therefrom… and characterizes the invention of printing simply as a historical change agent, not as a technological invention that radically transformed the evolution of the culture.” Without the adequate amount of time for society to adjust to the new technology and all that entails, is the power of newfound technology abused and how to we find guidelines to adjust without apparent set back?

Philosopher Alfred North Whitehead said that,

It is the first step in sociological wisdom, to recognize that the major advances in civilization are processes which all but wreck the societies in which they occur:—like unto an arrow in the hand of a child. The art of free society consists first in the maintenance of the symbolic code; and secondly in fearlessness of revision, to secure that the code serves those purposes which satisfy an enlightened reason. Those societies which cannot combine reverence to their symbols with freedom of revision, must ultimately decay either from anarchy, or from the slow atrophy of a life stifled by useless shadows.

Perhaps the only solution is some kind of crash so technology can be reborn to a wiser world. Society after Gutenberg’s movable type printing press was invented broke down. Most people in power at the time kept knowledge like power to keep down the citizens in ignorance, but with the printing press it was much more difficult to elites to control the production and distribution of knowledge. Then Martin Luther used that new technology to print up his manifesto and post it for everyone to see and thus created a schism in the church and led to new religions and interpretations of the Bible.

Without sufficient time in the present day to process these rapidly occurring advances in how we create and share information, our society is skipping over the reset that occurs in the face of massive information and technological change. “Not only is Internet use a new and rapidly changing social phenomenon, but the technology underlying the Internet itself is changing at the speed off Moore’s Law (Gordon More the co-founder of Intel, predicted that the number of transistors per square inch on integrated circuits would double every year). We do not know how to process the information as required by the advances. In other words, we are reading a book in which we do not understand the slang. Leading to things like ‘fake news” that we see running rampant. People are used to being able to trust any news groups, but are now learning that false information is being spread on mass and now distrust most if not all news. The solution would be some kind of societal breakdown, as suggested by Philosopher Alfred North Whitehead that leads to regulations being put into place to prevent such a situation occurring again.

This concern of how technological advances are damaging society and individuals was described in a very interesting chainsaw and chisel analogy by The New Yorker writer Tim Wu,

Imagine that two people are carving a six-foot slab of wood at the same time. One is using a hand-chisel, the other, a chainsaw. If you are interested in the future of that slab, whom would you watch?…This chainsaw/chisel logic has led some to suggest that technological evolution is more important to humanity’s near future than biological evolution; nowadays, it is not the biological chisel but the technological chainsaw that is most quickly redefining what it means to be human. The devices we use change the way we live much faster than any contest among genes. We’re the block of wood, even if,…sometimes we don’t even fully notice that we’re changing.

As stated by Elizabeth L. Eisenstein, “The ‘electronic age’ encompasses too many changes affecting communications (from radio and telephone to photocopying and computers) for any simple comparisons with the fifteenth-century to be drawn.” We need to consider how print relates to electronic media like Twitter. The regulations in place to ensure published books are reputable and do not contain spelling or grammatical errors help society in curbing slander. “It is clear [to] see print and electronic media as interacting with one another, with print maintaining its function as a reactive agent.” Perhaps Twitter should take a leaf from the publishing companies books and set up regulations to limit the amount of falsities circulating.

The more recent and rapid advances in how print is produced and distributed has been detrimental to society and have changed how society gathers information. Now with the internet and information has become more malleable and can be all over the world in a second. The kind of power is terrifying, because one sees more and more people using it to mislead, creating ‘fake news,’ and fill the void with trivial fluff, making the world shallow and careless with ideas and opinions. This in combination spreads false information and people without the tact to censor themselves to suit a situation. The world becoming less educated and more crude. With all of this in mind, one cannot say that Walter Benjamin was right in his idea of the reproduction of information emancipated the masses with knowledge. At this rate unbridled technology is watering down the information to nothing. Dismaying to say the least.

Bibliography

Abel, Richard. “The Gutenberg Revolution: A History of Print Culture.” Transaction Publishers, 2011.

Alcorn Baron, S., Eric N. Lindquist, and Eleanor F Shevlin eds. “Agent of Change: Print Culture Studies after Elizabeth L Eisenstein.” University of Massachusetts Press, 2007.

Byron Cooper, Stephen. “The Relationship Between the Printing Press & the Internet.” Chron. https://smallbusiness.chron.com/relationship-between-printing-press-internet-26566.html

Chappell, W. and Robert Bringhurst. “A Short History of the Printed Word.” Hartley & Marks Publishers Inc., 1999.

Demers, David. “History and Future of Mass Media: An Integrated Perspective.”Hampton Press, Inc., 2007.

Eisenstein, Elizabeth L. “The Printing Press as an Agent of Change.” Cambridge University Press, 2013.

Freeland, Cynthia."Digitizing and disseminating.” But is it art?. Oxford University Press, 2001.

Kraus, Don. “Pirates, the Printing Press and Global Democracy.” Huffington Post. 07/10/2014. https://www.huffingtonpost.com/don-kraus/pirates-the-printing-pres_b_5575113.html

Rosenberg, Eli. “How anonymous tweets helped ignite a national controversy over MAGA-hat teens.” Washington Post, January 22, 2019, https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2019/01/23/how-anonymous-tweets-helped-ignite-national-controversy-over-maga-hat-teens/?utm_term=.51c739040828

Whitehead, Alfred North. “Symbolism: Its Meaning and Effect.” University of Virginia Press, 1927.

Wu, Tim. “As Technology Gets Better, Will Society Get Worse?” Elements, The New Yorker, February 6, 2014, https://www.newyorker.com/tech/elements/as-technology-gets-better-will-society-get-worse.

[beatricenius]

A White-Walled Room

A fic inspired by this thought-provoking post by @red-earth-rising. It turned out kind of meta and it isn’t exactly what I set out to do, but that was at least my source of inspiration.

This fic is also on ao3 

The room she was escorted to appeared almost empty at first glance, white-walled and echoing with her solitary steps as she made it past the threshold. It was impossible not to feel out of place in a room like that as a civilian. Something about the stark contrast between the blank nothingness and her vibrant burgundy coat, a color that had felt fairly muted in the world outside the BSHCI. Here, it made her otherness glaringly obvious. She could see it reflected in the thick glass wall separating her from the man she had come to see. Dressed in anonymous beige with his hair cut shorter than in the pictures circulating online, it took her a moment to assemble his features into something she might recognize.

“Good morning, Dr. Lecter.”

“Good morning. Ms. Boudreaux, I presume?”

“That’s right,” She took a step forward. Her hesitance was only apparent in the quivering steel of her eyes. “I was honestly surprised to hear you agreed to the interview.”

“You deliberately told me just enough to spark my curiosity,” There was mild amusement written on his face that did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves. His gaze held no malevolence, but it was the look of someone watching a child in the midst of a silly game. “Consider me informed and consenting. I have no time for formalities. What exactly is the topic of your research?”

“I’m writing a thesis about the evolving nature of your crimes,” She formed her mouth carefully around the words she’d memorized. “More specifically, the alterations to your MO after you joined forces with former special agent Will Graham. Post-fall, as it were.”

He tilted his head. “Much has already been said on the topic of those alterations. What do you intend to contribute to the conversation?”

She exhaled through her nose. “Many hesitate to explore the underlying themes of the murder tableaus you and Mr. Graham created, since those themes are potentially controversial. I don’t. I want to explore the angle of internalized homophobia as it is made evident in your crime scenes, when studied alongside what we know about you and the environments in which you spent your formative years.”

As she spoke, he went very still. She was unsettled by that too; the unnatural stillness that made her realize the extent to which his sparse yet deliberate micro expressions animated him.

“What are these environments you speak of?”

“Do you mind if I record this?” He signaled his approval and she fumbled with her equipment for a moment before hitting the record button. “You asked what environments I was referring to. Europe during the AIDS epidemic. The rural south, blue collar America. All fertile grounds for homophobic rhetoric.”

“I was never part of blue collar America.”

“Will Graham was. Did he ever talk about that?”

“No. Even before his attempted double suicide, Will did not like to linger in the past.”

She had heard him speak Will Graham’s name on countless occasions, but now that the smooth drone of his voice wasn’t a tinny recording filtered through busted speakers, she was struck by the sheer amount of affection he was able to pour into a single syllable. Will Graham’s name was spoken with something akin to homesickness.

“Has your thesis proposal truly been approved, Ms. Boudreaux? This sounds, for all intents and purposes, like an extension of tabloid journalism.”

“Do you object?”

A slight pause. “Not necessarily,” He gestured toward a chair in the middle of the room. “Ask what you came here to ask. I will let you know if I have any objections.”

She sat down, smoothing her hands over her thighs as if she was wearing a skirt. She wasn’t. She was wearing a pair of slacks she didn’t usually wear and worried that the way they rode up to expose her calves made her look somehow foolish. She couldn’t remember whether the color of her socks clashed with her coat. Being in his line of sight made such worries surface automatically.

“People always say that you respond best to politeness. I think that’s an oversimplification. My guess is that you’d prefer it if I was blunt rather than polite.”

“You can be polite while being blunt.”

“I can try,” She took her notes out of her bag. She’d more or less memorized those too, but the weight of them on her lap was calming. “My first question is a given. Was your relationship with Will Graham romantic?”

“Romantic,” The word was held against the roof of his mouth for a moment. “We were never inclined to label or categorize what we shared. It was intimate.”

“Sexual?”

“Intimate.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Your incompetence is flagrant. Obviously there is a difference. Sometimes we touched. Often, we did not. Regardless, it was intimate.”

“What was the nature of this touch? If you would humor me.”

He gave her a long look. “You should know that my memory is not what it once was. My information processing has become a finely woven sieve. Supposedly, I have an early onset of Alzheimer’s. They have been saying that for almost ten years. I usually have the mental presence required to keep myself moored. I don’t forget. I jumble.”

“Give me something jumbled.”

“The beat of his heart against my palm. The snow crust scratch of his voice next to my ear as his legs wrapped around my waist. Blood and semen and tears. All mine. His attraction to me was multifaceted and nothing if not complex. He could never sustain an erection with me. But we would kiss. On rare occasions, we had intercourse. All sorts of physical closeness was important; parts of me in parts of him, and vice versa. Do you understand?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Touch can be affirming. The simplest form of affirmation there is.”

“No. No. Affirmation was never the point. It was a was a blurring of individuality, the act of physically merging. It would close the final distance between us when our minds were already connected. Do you understand?”

“Theoretically. I’ve only ever had casual sex.”

Something shifted behind his eyes. “Sexual intimacy without emotion is a debasement of everyone involved. An act verging on bestial.”

“Not bestial. Casual. Almost polite.”

He smiled faintly. “People have often likened me to an animal. I always found it amusing. Will reminded me more of an animal than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“How?”

“I could never figure out whether the scale tipped in favor of design or instinct. He would pounce like something starving, with every bit of impersonal fury he could muster. Chest heaving, eyes that were all pupil. I would taste blood between his teeth and there was no telling where it came from. Him, me, someone else. Above all else, he acted on mindless drive. Transparent like an animal in intention.”

“With all due respect, that sounds like wishful thinking on your part, Dr. Lecter.”

“He was animal-like in that as well. The way he would adapt and evolve to suit my preferences. I did the same for him. I often tried to be what he thought I was.”

“But not what he wanted you to be?”

“Will never knew what he wanted. I forgave him for that early on. Eventually, he came to forgive himself as well.”

“For wanting an intimate relationship with you or for not wanting it enough?”

His eyes narrowed. “Will’s struggle with internalized homophobia rendered him unable to fully reciprocate. Is that what you meant to imply? That his desires were thwarted by self-loathing, born from the suffocating press of traditional values?”

She replayed the exchange in her head to pinpoint when and why his voice had sharpened with offense. All too late, she realized her mistake.

“I don’t wish to speak to someone who doesn’t listen to what I have to say, Ms. Boudreaux. You have a fixed idea of our involvement with each other and your questions have been prepared according to your assumptions. A tedious novice mistake.”

“I am listening. I am.”

“No. You aren’t. Your thesis is moronic. I don’t want what we shared to be contextualized. Context is irrelevant. Did you honestly think we were unable to move past such trivial notions after everything that transpired between us?”

For the first time since she walked into the room, she felt certain that she knew what the flicker behind his eyes meant. She recognized it from her reflection in the mirror, the vague yet palpable anger that arose from having been bereft. She didn’t soften her voice deliberately when she spoke, but found that a note of compassion bled into it anyway.

“I would understand it if that was the case. Are you a romantic, Dr. Lecter? You sound like a romantic.”

“I am opposed to searching for an explanation for that which defies explanation. With the right theoretical framework, any tangle of events can be arranged into something linear and logical. Fitting neatly into your little discourse. We do not fit there. Moreover, we do not belong there.”

“Don’t you?”

“No,” He paused. “I will not be pitied for things that never were. We did what we could with what we had, and I would not change a thing. Everything mattered. Every cause and its subsequent effect. He gave me everything he had and I did the same.”

“I understand. I do. May I ask you something else?”

“No. You may not. I don’t wish to speak to you any longer, Ms. Boudreaux. I’m afraid you have overstayed your welcome.”

“I didn’t mean to step out of line. I promise. When did your relationship start to progress into the intimacy you talked about? I want to hear it from you. Please.”

When he didn’t answer, she sucked her lower lip into her mouth and deliberated quickly. Finally, she released a small breath. “Alright. Alright. I’ll leave. Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Lecter. I appreciate it. I’m sorry to have offended you.”

Just as she was putting her things away and slinging her bag over her shoulder to leave, he took as step closer, fixing her with that unnervingly attentive gaze.

“He resonated with me. Like the echo of blood and breath in a seashell. I made the conscious decision to perceive that echo as the sound of the ocean. Do you understand? That intimacy was always there, from the very beginning.”

“Sometimes an echo is just an echo.”

“But love is dependent on elevation of the prosaic,” He stepped back again. “I can no longer stand it. The sound of the ocean. When he was alive, it was my favorite sound. It is where we were born and where we could have died. I regret that the ocean did not take him. I should have drowned him there. I should have laid myself to rest beside him. Did they tell you what happened to the nurse that played the sound of the ocean on a white noise generator?”

“They told me. Should I get someone, Dr. Lecter?”

“I admit that was rather bestial of me. Though I was never what Will was. Don’t get anyone, it would not be to my benefit.”

“Then I won’t,” She decided to go out on a limb. “It’s been nearly five years since Will Graham’s execution. Right? It’s understandable that the upcoming anniversary of his death makes you miss him. That’s why you agreed to see me. You want to talk to someone about it.”

“Are you a romantic, Ms. Boudreaux? You sound like a romantic.”

“Takes one to know one,” She ventured a hesitant smile. It wasn’t mirrored in the even lines of his face, but his eyes softened ever so slightly. “Thank you for your time. I mean that. May I visit again? I won’t bring my notes, just my ambition. And my company. An arrangement like that could benefit the both of us, I think.”

“Thank you for your blunt politeness,” He looked just past her head, as if his gaze was drawn by something behind her. “Let me know in advance when you want to visit. My memory is not what it once was. I need to separate to refine. Sieving is time-consuming work.”

“I will. Thank you.”

As she walked down the long corridor, she thought about the look in his eyes as his gaze fixed on that spot beside her, just above her head. It reminded her of flourish of violets in his voice as that single, delicate syllable rolled off his tongue. Absentmindedly, she considered the fact that Will Graham would have been almost exactly a head taller than her, if the information she had come across was correct.

[freedom-of-fanfic]

I have been reading and reblogging some of your posts and wanted to thank you for that detailed account. I have been out of fandom for a while, and antis really baffled me at first. But now I have a question: Could you talk some more about how current antis relate back to the LJ social justice scene and when the morph from debating fanworks to dissing people happened? Thank you!

I’m glad you’ve been enjoying this blog!

I think this reddit post does a nice job of summarizing the history of fandom and how it’s led to our current point. But I’m going to go more into how tumblr’s very structure led to a ‘race to the bottom’ sort of enacting of punishment via social justice.

Almost all of this is from personal observation, having been here since late 2010.

To get more into the actual history of it: Racefail ‘09 is the name given to the big, public 2009 debates about racism in genre fiction (published fantasy and sci-fi), which happened primarily on livejournal and private websites. (Racefail was itself the result of the rising awareness of social justice in the real world thanks to the democratization of information via the internet.) Racefail raised a couple of big questions: were non-white (and non-straight/non-cis/non-male) creators being silenced and erased in published genre fiction? And were the stories being told primarily racist/sexist/homophobic and lacking in representation for non-white/Western cultures (and LGBT+/queer/female stories)?

From everything I’ve read I feel like a lot of good came out of these talks; in particular, it greatly raised the awareness of social justice in genre fiction and fandom spaces - which had been there before, but not quite so prominent.  But one major bad came out of it: it revealed, via the shitty behavior of one member of the genre fiction community, how social justice could easily be used as a silencing tactic by applying arguments meant to dismantle power structures to individuals who may (or may not!) benefit from those power structures.

Fast-forward to 2010-2012 tumblr. LJ has undergone multiple journal purges and partial restorations, been bought out by a Russian company, and - final straw - changed the way anonymous threaded posts were handled, ending its value as a space for anon memes like kinkmemes. Fandom dispersed. A not-insignificant number of us eventually end up on tumblr, and those of us coming from LJ have brought with us a greater awareness of social justice, particularly lgbt/queer culture and feminism.

At the same time, Facebook has opened its doors to everyone instead of only allowing college students to use it. Facebook has almost single-handedly popularized the notion of making your offline life publicly available online.  Gone are the days of keeping your age, real name, and offline identity hidden; we share everything except maybe last names and exact locations.

Tumblr democratizes the fandom experience like never before. Livejournal and forums had moderators; tumblr has none.  Communities are gone - instead we have tags where people gather to talk about shared interests. People who previously felt shut out, forced to be ‘lurkers’ because they had nothing to say, could now have a blog and share the work of others via reblogging. The main way to gain social capital is by having the most followers and therefore the most widespread content.

But tumblr is a weird experience compared to other blogging sites because at the time it was the only one with a ‘reblog’ function. any one post can go absolutely viral and the people who see it beyond your immediate circle will lack the context of the rest of your blog. This means that either every single post needs to be entirely self-contained … or get wildly misunderstood. (Guess which one happens.) It also means that that the posts that spread the fastest and furthest are the short, witty ones or - you guessed it - the controversial ones. Finally, people tend to not fact-check - if something is interesting and seems believable, people reblog it uncritically. Tumblr’s dashboard structure actively encourages people to not leave their dash to look at provided external links - you’ll lose your ‘place’ on your endless-scrolling dash, and the little ‘home’ button in the corner is reminding you how many new posts have been created since you last refreshed. You don’t have time to fact-check.

Controversy without context is polarizing - without the original context, people provide their own context and agree or disagree based on a bunch of assumptions. Tumblr is a breeding ground for this. Opinions don’t get more nuanced - they get more vitriolic, more sharp and quick-witted.  And with people not bothering to fact-check or click linked information, misinformation spreads like wildfire.

The early experience of fandom on tumblr is one of widespread acceptance. Possibly because FB does this, people feel safe to share their age, sexuality, and gender on their tumblr profiles - and those identities get more and more specific as people learn more about gender identities and sexual orientations that are off the gender binary. People spread educational posts about queer/LGBT+ culture, feminist theory, and racism alongside fandom posts.  The importance of minority representation in the media is a hot topic and posts that criticize media for their lack of (or bad) representation get thousands of notes. Social justice theory - fighting the appropriation of colonized cultures by imperialists, promoting the voices of the oppressed over those of the privileged, the right to be angry because of the oppression and trauma you’ve experienced, not tone-policing people who have been hurt, and not erasing the experiences of others - are widely discussed.

A lot of good came out of this, too, but I believe a natural backlash resulted. Earnestly working to promote the voices of the least privileged and trying to avoid silencing or erasure, what started as an effort to even out the social strata gradually became a kind of reversed social strata. People who were oppressed on any axis could not be corrected by anybody of lesser oppression - it was considered to be silencing. People could not say their feelings had been hurt by a marginalized person’s word choice - that was tone policing. 

And this led to a secondary, and probably lesser conclusion: people who identified as ‘privileged’ - that is, white, cis, straight, mentally well, able-bodied, (and male) - felt guilty for all the privilege they had. and the promotion of marginalized voices over their own - the tendency to tell people, regardless of the validity of their points, that if they were privileged their voice did not matter - to escape their privilege, at least on tumblr.

I think we hit Peak Tumblr in 2012-2013-ish. Non-human and nonbinary identities proliferated. Asexuality awareness exploded, as did other lesser-known sexualities and paraphilias.  People wondered what it meant to be trans in a world with no gender binary. People self-diagnosed severe mental illnesses.  And this unto itself wasn’t a bad thing!   Probably many people learned a lot about themselves from the openness and acceptance.

However: there’s no way to know how much of this was from people self-discovering and how much was from people who realized that unless they had some axis of oppression they could point to they could be silenced.  And people were extremely open about these identities as well: despite all of the talk about social awareness, interactions on tumblr suggested that most people still assumed that everyone else was white, cis, straight, able-bodied and mentally well (and therefore completely unaware of social issues and in need of education). And due to how tumblr’s reblogging system could separate posts entirely from the context of the original poster’s blog and personal details, this assumption happened a lot!

Whatever the actual numbers of people who were self-discovering versus self-deluding, this extreme acceptance got its own natural backlash. It wasn’t possible for everyone on tumblr to be oppressed, but everyone on tumblr seemed to be finding some way to be marginalized - they weren’t cis, they were ‘a demigirl’. They weren’t straight, they were ‘gray asexual’.  There had to be some way to distinguish the real marginalized people from the fakers.*

Enter gatekeeping - which seems reasonable enough at first, given the sheer number of people who are claiming to be part of the marginalized club. People start making fun of ‘transtrenders’ and ‘starselves’ and say ‘heteroromantic demisexuals’ are ‘just normal’. People call one another ‘cishet’ specifically to erase their gender identity/sexual orientation.

This environment makes tumblr ripe for radfems, who greatly benefit from people putting limits on what identities other people can have. And radfems feed the gatekeeping mentality, leading to more and more policing of one another on tumblr instead of acceptance.  Instead of trusting others to be honest about their gender identity, sexual orientation, race or mental health, people increasingly decide the identity and experiences of others based on whether or not they say and do the right things.  Conversely, if you say or do the wrong things you are ostracized and your identity is erased using the reverse social strata of tumblr: ’cishet’ becomes shorthand for ‘ignorant asshole’ - and ignorant assholes are not to be listened to.

One no longer has to identify wrongly to have the wrong identity to be worth listening to. One only has to do the wrong thing.

So how does this tie back to debating fanworks vs dissing people?  Well: tumblr isn’t just the home of social justice. It’s also the home of fandom, and these two spaces heavily overlap.

Like our genre fiction friend that I mentioned back at the beginning of this long-ass post, tumblr had already begun - with the best of intentions - to silence people for having the wrong level of marginalization.  And when radfems and gatekeepers entered the scene, one’s level of marginalization became a function of how you behaved.  Now you had to behave right to have the right to be listened to - and fanworks, far from being the exception, are the rule for determining if people behave ‘right’ in fandom spaces.

In other words: debating fanworks/fan opinions and dissing people have become the same thing.  If a fanwork is for the wrong pairing, that makes a person a bad person.  And bad people are only able to create bad fanworks.

This attitude is how you get things like ‘if you ship [x] you’re straight’ and ‘oh, you ship [x], your opinion on this unrelated social justice issue is invalid’ or ‘i’m not surprised to find that this person is [x]-phobic, they created problematic fanworks.’

And that’s where we’re at today.

Man this is much. I’m sorry for your eyes.

*And in case it isn’t obvious, I think policing sexual orientations and gender identities is nonsense - demigirls and gray-ace people count as much as everyone else.

[pressednpeeled]

5 ways rap has influenced your life.

     “She's dead! She's gone forever, and YOU killed her!” cried out an angry old hip-hop head at a young man cruising by bumping new music labeled “mumble rap.” In This colorful age of constant change, there is no room for ignorance and discrimination of art, it is all after all, art. Leaning on being a sport today, rap and hip hop communities have divided  themselves by confusing themselves with an old school new school divide. Old school considering “good hip hop and rap” to only be music done by the pioneers, new school being more attached to a feel or vibe of the musical context. While many rap veterans did drop the first wave of  influence, nothing will ever go unchanged, especially social expression outlets.That being said we have to understand that the older fans relate so loyally to older music, because it paints memories of a very alive, important time in their lives.

     In this listicle I will cover the significance of raps influence on American culture.  I will go over some history of hip-hop, and its political influence that has influenced the nation culture deeply. We will touch on rap not only being a genre, but a verb as well. We will cover it's subcultures and the competitive side of the art that has kept this genres heart beating.

     The corporate world catalyzed the culture into economical prevalence, in turn officially commercialized rap. With rap on the rise due somewhat to corporate influence, the topics began to degrade and became financially arrogant. The newest artists were getting views based on flashy appearances and being antagonistically controversial, not for honed skills.  Like a blessing in disguise, this allowed bad examples to be displayed and criticized, suddenly,we were able to truly appreciate skilled Artists again. One could understand how the older generations opinions became  judgmental, then stagnant as they fell into the generational cycle and fulfilled their destiny. We must also consider that older listeners are generally less familiar with technological advances and therefore decline to discover newer rhyme that isn't negatively publicized.

     When Nas label the genre “dead” in 2006 many older fans were confused: they simply couldn't accept the fact that culture (and along with culture, music) does not stay the same forever; it outgrows us; it outruns us. Furthermore sub genres that confuse older crowds are what make up a lot of prevalent music today. That being said, rap has had some awful productions in recent years, experimenting with new technology, motivations, styles and of course corporate influence. The record labels saw financial opportunities and began taking over artistic moves and filtering genuine content as if they designed the artists. As time goes on new artists emerge that remind us what great hip hop or rap are.

     Here are 5 reasons Hip-Hop is alive, well, and actually doing better than ever before.

Rap is a verb.                                                                                                           performance, a sport, an activity a past time, rap has been considered all of these things at some point or another. It was a way to express or deliver a message to others that conveys energy intelligence, and creativity. Writer Doran Rosenberg talks about how hip hops basics evolved culturally and organically. People rapped for the love of expression, to explore uncharted artistic depths, and to paint a beautiful portrait with words. Then unfortunately Rap was exploited by corporations seeking financial success over artistic quality. This is the main reason the genre has struggled lyrically over the last few years with the addition of some psycho social implications that began to shift the reason artists began making music in the first place. While people began wanting to do it for the glory, riches and fame,  the love for the craft and unique self expression became unpopular sadly.

           .https://www.elitedaily.com/music/music-news/critics-are-crying-the-                 decline-of-rap-is-hip-hop-really-dead.

     2. Rap is a part of america's political history and a beacon for social issues

     Rap is not only is an artistic venue, but also serves as a political beacon for inner city  communities to express things going on that the rest of the world, doesn't see. On theodysseyonline.com Bailey Marshal speaks on the old rap coming back threw new, rappers like Kendrick Lamar, who proved rap is merely a reflection of society and a true form of art.

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/why-hip-hop-isnt-dead

      Lamar is one of the few rappers in a very very long time to use the power of politics threw his works. Comparable to N.W.A. in the way they reflected on police brutality and social problems when racial injustice in Ghetto communities began to catch attention during the 1980′s. Most of the country had no idea these issues were happening until  N.W.A made The problems public in 1988 with the song “Fuck The Police,” loud, offensive and boisterous but these Hero were actually doing a great job of exposing police racial profiling African and Hispanics Americans in the inner cities. It wasn't until the 1991 police beating of Rodney King that was broadcaster that these issues had gained more attention, later. Hip Hop gave us a voice that we could raise when the racial discrimination was a bigger problem, setting the beginning mark of a revolutionary time in history for many Americans. Americans cultural involvement in rap is deep rooted within freedom of speech and the reform of racial and social injustice. So why how could it die when it has nurtured the american society in so many social ways.

3. Rap will live on because of the social side of it.

      Rappers have not always been the best role models, and beginning in 2000 the confusion of rap started with the transition of the era that affected the sport almost totally. Overly Explicit shock material or irrelevant topics began arising to only receive attention as quickly as possible. While some music did seem outrageous we still must understand that some artist were only attempting to convey intense strong feelings into words, not worried about making the listeners uncomfortable or offended, like Eminem. Many rappers around this time also fueled career off rivalry like Soldier boy, and 50 cent, taking shots at any already successful artist simply to stir up fan bases of the known artist to create controversy about them,  generating free advertisement for them. These rappers seemed desperate for financial success and fame even though some did already have tasteful artistry to them. Angered by the perpetuated success of some of these braggadocios bonafide clowns, slowly, but surely the minds that Tupac Shakur spoke of, began to spark up, into the world. These heroes began checking new foo foo artist, reminding us of the important values of this poetic craft.

     Kendrick Lamar single handedly reignite the passion for hip hop with a message to rappers of today to get up and realize the loss of control within the industry as an artists. Kendrick re raised the bar in the song “Control”. He compares himself to the greats and calls out all the top players in today's hip hop industry and even a few friends on the song with him!. Stating that we must not forget that hip hop is a sport and everyone should know, right now,  hes the king of it.

“I heard the barbershops be in great debates all the time, 'Bout who's the best MC: Kendrick, Jigga, and Nas, Eminem, André 3000; the rest of y'all new n*ggas just new n*ggas, don't get involved! And I ain't rockin' no more designer shit! White T’s and Nike Cortez, this red Corvettes anonymous,I'm usually homeboys with the same n*ggas I’m rhymin' with, But this is hip-hop, and them n*ggas  should know what time it is, And that goes for Jermaine Cole, Big K.R.I.T., Wale, Pusha T, Meek Millz, A$AP Rocky, Drake,Big Sean, Jay Electron', Tyler, Mac Miller, I got love for you all, but I'm tryna murder you n*ggas! Tryna make sure your core fans never heard of you n*ggas They don't wanna hear not one more noun or verb from you n*ggas.

What is competition? I'm tryna raise the bar high!”

       This is important to understand because the craft is still so sought after now by more people than ever. we could never dismiss it because we have grown to love it as a nation just like we love our controversy and sports.

4. Rap is poetry

      Teachers refer to Shakespeare in school to understand language. As time passes we find more monumental lyricist like 2pac. Pacs impact on the world went as far as schools quoting and studying his works to teach,  like we have before with Shakespeare. Colleges around the world offers entire courses on Tupac Shakur's work today. In this article by Micah Mattix, he talks about how rap is not generally considered poetry because it's grammatically incorrect and it “has to have music behind it”. He goes on to say that rap is less serious than poetry and is more profane. All these things said are entirely false and are refuted in the comments by multiple people defending the poetic craft. Comparing other artist like Beck and Bob Dylan to poetry, writing it out in sonnet form to show that it reflections of poetry. Consider the following words from Beck:

Walking to the other side

With the Devil trying to take my mind

And my soul’s just a silhouette

On the ashes of a cigarette

Illusions never fake their lives

Trick cards fool the eyes

Carry zeros over till they add up

Bury tears in the chapters you shut

Sometimes the jail can’t chain the cell

And the rain’s too plain to tell

All alone by a barren well

Scarecrow’s only scaring himself

Consider the following words from Bob Dylan:

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes

I bargained for salvation an’ they gave me a lethal dose

I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn

“Come in,” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm”

https://www.theamericanconservative.com/prufrock/is-rap-poetry/

     5. Rap could never expire because its saved on file

       Hip-hop has been influencing pop culture for years. As lingo becomes more socially accepted, the crossover appeal is inevitable for rap to get the recognition it deserves.

       In 2000 Lil’ Wayne coined the word “bling bling” to the oxford dictionary, forever validating his permanent mark on the rap game. Then the next year Beyonce added the word “bootylicious” to the dictionary. Although Snoop Dogg was the originator of the word in 1992, destiny's child took the term to the top with the release of their song that still is one of their highest selling hits to date. Unless someone can destroy every single copy of the dictionary physical and digital then maybe they can put an end to this rap thing but unless that happens hip hop will be right here just like revolutions in history textbooks are. https://www.xxlmag.com/news/2016/05/hip-hop-words-in-oxford-english-dictionary/

      Rap is an art form and when is put on display its subject to judgment and an interpretation from the side that is appreciative and the side that isn't. Our parents aren't totally wrong about new bad music, but they need to understand hip hop and rap will never die, for it has only began forming major sub genres like rock formed punk, and jazz formed acid. More and more people are becoming involved in the rap culture every day. The culture involves itself within our society more and more everyday . Weather it be politics or social issues, rap ingrains itself into us organically and electronically. The concept is comparable to saying that singing is dying, or comedy is dying, it just doesn't make any sense at all. Hip hop and rap will remain strong in our societies all over the world, continuing to cycle through history as it has since it  began.  Because rap culture is socially tied to us it creates our history, our texts and our lives. it is a self sufficient competitive art and therefore will forever evolve with new topics,  problems, and people. Music is simply a reflection of the high energy human existence.  regardless of its spelling, and bold topics, hip hop and rap will remain abrasive to political foul play, acting as a beacon for untapped issues that the genres people will never let it slide by unnoticed.So to all those embittered old hip hop heads that idolized artist they grew up, please understand that you don't understand, change in inevitable and if it wasn't, everything would be the same. Variety is the spice of life my friend, until you understand that, please go find a cave to cry in, But remember,  “I ain’t mad atcha”-Tupac Shakure. 

[incendir]

[NOTE]: I used a combination of bbintl and beesubs translations so credit to both of them

I don’t understand the eyes that focus on you I don’t understand the things you hold now, at that age Your passionate fans, the TV programs that allow you to be on them The musicians that form around you

One of the most common hate comments—that they claim they just don’t understand why he’s so successful, they don’t get what the hype about him is, they don’t get why he’s so famous at such a young age, and they say all this with the tone that he can’t possibly deserve any of it. He can’t possibly deserve or have done anything worthy of all the fans he has, the renown artists he’s collaborated with, all the shows he’s been on (I’m assuming the most representative of this is him being a producer on Show Me The Money—when he was first cast on the fourth season there was plenty of debate as to whether he deserved that position when all of his peers in his age group and in terms of years debuted were still competitors themselves).

There’s no real incentive, no reason for my hate But my guilty conscience gets buried by the crowd

As his fan of over six years now, I’ll be the first to say he’s done plenty to warrant criticism—you’d be hard-pressed to find any human, any celebrity, who hasn’t. He’s never committed a crime, he’s never done anything morally, hugely questionable or controversial—I don’t consider dating a scandal, so the only true scandal I believe he’s ever had stems from an immature, and thoughtless mistake that he’s atoned for and apologized for over and over, and still does years after it even happened. There is no reason that I can think of to hate him, and if you read between the lines of the comments of his anti-fans, you’ll realize that there’s no true reason for them to hate him either. Yet, he has hordes and hordes of haters because when spiteful comment after spiteful comment is read by otherwise neutral parties, more hate tends to easily form—if so many people hate him there must be a reason, right? Strength in numbers applies to the negative as well as the positive.

No matter what efforts you made, what suffering you went through Your success gave you the right to be insulted again

He was born with heart and respiratory problems. These health issues made it difficult for him during Block B’s early days when they had taxing choreography and he was always seen gasping for breath after rehearsals and performances. The first company he signed with treated him and his group terribly. There were controversies and they were extremely unpopular—they were horribly managed and in dire financial circumstances. They managed to escape, they managed to claw their way up through blood and sweat to the top despite their new company still being incompetent. He sacrifices sleep and personal time to create music for both himself and his group—he never once considered one without the other. He constantly receives hate and constantly has the general image of a thuggish troublemaker despite being well-spoken, well-read, intelligent, humble, and kind. But it doesn’t matter how much he endured because he’s successful now, isn’t he? None of that matters, none of it needs to be taken into account because now, he’s rich, he lives in an expensive apartment, wears expensive clothes, has an expensive car—so he’s perfectly qualified to be hated on. It doesn’t matter what he had to do to get to this point in his life, the fact of the matter is that he’s here, and that, apparently, gives everyone the right to take a stab at him all over again.

Why did she date such an unrefined delinquent?

Nine times out of ten, when there is a dating scandal, the vast majority of comments will hate on the woman in the relationship, whether she is a celebrity or non-celebrity even. Naturally, even though one of the articles mentioned how he had helped her through her own controversy, how he’d driven to her company and comforted her, this became the one time that I saw more comments hating on the man—that he wasn’t treating her right, that he didn’t deserve her, that he was too ugly for her, that her seen running into his apartment complex was a reflection of him rather than of the paparazzi following them, that he was a player who couldn’t possibly have feelings for her other than for a physical relationship because that just seems like the type of man he is.

I don’t understand how your music became hits The awards you receive every year, your luxurious surroundings

Paralleling the beginning of the first verse, and an elaboration on it as well—again one of the most common hate comments. Through this, you can see the shape and form of the song—the structure of how he’s stacking the different kinds of hate he receives. The beginning of the first two verses both begin with the most basic and transparent attempts—invalidating his success and worth by stating that they themselves don’t see anything special about him, that his music, his entire career, seems pretty unremarkable to them, nothing noteworthy and definitely undeserving of the accolades he has received thus far.

If you evoke some controversy right now, that would be impeccable timing My lips are twitching with abusive words and insults Our needs are simple, you just have to mess up on one sentence The interpretation is entirely up to me and I decide on your ideology as well

As each verse progresses, the hatred progresses as well—at first they are perhaps the type of comments he could shrug off easily because they are so obviously false or ones that are simply about his profession, and he is the type of person that accepts criticism for his music, not the type to ever think his music is flawless. Deeper into the song are the lyrics detailing the comments that are harder to stop reading—that are harder to shrug off and dismiss, that attack the type of person he is or the type of person they think he is and want him to become so that they can be proven right all along. All it would take is one mistake, anything that can be even mildly misconstrued—that would be more than enough to paint him as the brutish, stupid, arrogant, undeserving celebrity they knew he was all along. Clarifications, explanations, elaborations are all excuses—it will never matter what he meant, only what they hear, what they want to hear.

A hundred of your good acts, I’ll carve on sand One mistake, on solid rock

It doesn’t matter how long he atones for one sin—it doesn’t matter how long he goes until his next, inevitable mistake. It doesn’t matter that he’s only human. For all the hundreds of things he does right, for all the years he goes without controversy, they’ll carve them onto sand for the tide to wash away moments later as if they never happened. Any mistake he makes, however, regardless of how small, regardless if resolved or proven false in the end, regardless if apologized and forgiven, that’ll be engraved for all eternity—it’ll be brought back again and again any time his name is mentioned.

Guess whose loss it will be if you become my enemy? The camera lens will become a gun barrel

Above all, faceless IDs on the Internet full of hatred yet basking in their anonymity want to know and feel that they have an actual effect. They want to know that their words shake him and they want him to know that they are what determine his fate, his success or lack thereof—that they are so powerful they determine his self-esteem, his sense of self-worth, his pride or shame at the quality of his music. As long as he steps in front of the camera, it is up to them how he feels about himself and his work—therefore, he should do well to please them, remain on their good side. This will return in fuller force later on in the song.

No matter how shitty things are for you, you need to dance properly

A good proportion of the lyrics are applicable to celebrities in general, most especially idols, and this is one of them. I’m of the personal opinion that professionalism should be maintained—a job is a job, and rain or shine, you have to do your job if you expect to receive your livelihood from it. However, in the end, we’re all humans, and there are days you just can’t contain what is going wrong in your life, sometimes you’re sick, sometimes you just aren’t feeling it, and I’m not, and I don’t believe he is either, referring to those who simply skimp out as if being an idol is a voluntary activity at will rather than a profession—as he’s someone who is extremely professional and rarely, if ever, misses a schedule (he’s been known to endure filmings while vomiting between takes). I believe he’s referring to how the majority of idols and celebrities in general are hard-working, maintain appropriate expressions, perform to their fullest ability nearly all of the time, but they are crucified all the same any one single day or event they don’t seem at the peak of cheerfulness, at the height of their energy and enthusiasm.

I’m not an anti, it’s fan mail Once you rack up those positive comments That means you’re past your prime

This is the first time in the verses he refers to the chorus, and the central motif of the entire song: The opposite of love is not hate—it is indifference. This anti states, and this will be emphasized later on, that Zico should be grateful for this negativity. He should be grateful for the hate. In fact, he should even consider these hate comments fan mail—the reason being, that, receiving positive comments means he is no longer relevant.

Bear this in mind, the moment you make a stage name You have to kill yourself

A chilling, impactful line about the sacrifices that celebrities make physically, emotionally, mentally that non-celebrities will never be able to truly know, and never can truly experience nor understand. He had to sacrifice as much as he gained, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he had to kill a part of Woo Jiho to become Zico. It should also be noted that he changes his flow for this verse—so that it almost sounds less like a third verse and more like a bridge. Previously, both his flow and tone were dark and smooth, but now it becomes harsher and choppier, aggressive and angry. The anti is becoming more and more cynical with its words—to the point where there’s hardly any other way to describe it than just, honestly, truly cruel.

The choice is yours to make If you want the public to eat you up (popularity/relevance), then be chewed out first Get on the cutting board

Leading in straight from the previous line, and also referring back to what was mentioned previously about indifference being the true opposite of love, the anti reiterates that the only way to gain fame is to first allow himself to be destroyed. His character, his skills, his appearance—he needs to accept that everything must be put willingly for slaughter and slander before he can gain fame because any attention is supposedly good attention and he has to accept that.

(1) A pro always rips the corners of his mouth widely (2) Professionals always need to smile

I thought this was one of those instances where both the figurative meaning and the literal translation are needed to get the full effect across. The meaning is another elaboration of the previous line regarding how celebrities are expected to “dance” even when they are going through difficult times personally, but the literal translation gives this statement the grotesque, macabre tone it needs to fully convey what he wishes to have the listener realize—it may seem nothing to an audience, to a non-celebrity, to an anonymous anti-fan on the Internet to tell a celebrity they need to perk up and keep smiling for a professional demeanor. After all, the commenter comments once—but there are thousands of commenters commenting once and the celebrity receives all of those thousands telling them to smile, again and again and again throughout their career. After a while, it wouldn’t be surprising if the simple act of smiling when told to feels as if you are ripping the corners of your mouth.

Merchandise don’t have privacy The customer is king around here

Possibly one of my favorite lines of the entire song. Other than the obvious of how this is referring to how entitled many non-celebrities feel they are to the private lives of celebrities, it most likely also references part of a rap he did during the NIKE Unlimited event shortly following the revealing of his relationship last year—

There’s another thing I could never forget That day my house, my car, and my daily life were all exposed

The reception to this was, expectedly, simply more hate—violent indignation that he was defending the invasion of his privacy and most comments ignored how his privacy was invaded at all and rather stated that it wouldn’t matter if his privacy was invaded if he was an upright person with nothing to hide, so clean and moral that even if snapshots were taken wildly out of context, he would still seem moral and upright. Bringing this back to ANTI, with the furious tone and choppy flow he uses for this verse, especially at this part, you can sense the undercurrent of sarcasm. The anti-fan finds it so incredibly absurd and infuriating that a product dares to desire privacy, that a product dares to desire its human rights not to be violated when everyone knows the customer is always right.

Hatred is also interest How long do you think you’ll receive that kind of treatment? So be thankful to me

What was implied in the second verse is now explicitly stated. Zico’s anti-fan is letting him know that fame doesn’t last forever, and that hatred is also considered popularity and attention and, regardless of how much he has been hurt by it—regardless of how many wounds and moments of darkness and doubt it might have caused him, first and foremost, Zico should be grateful to those who’ve hated on him all these years, dragged his, his friends’, his family’s names through the dirt. For, without them, and when they no longer treat him so miserably, he will not be celebrated anymore—he will be no one, once again.

I’ll make you lose your way I hope I can see you around for a long time I’ll end it here

As said before, again, above all the utmost wish and desire of an anti is to know that the subject of hatred has been affected—feels lost and horrible and feels hated, feels like truly all the faults listed about them are true. They want to know they’ve made Zico question whether he even wants to pursue his dream anymore. At the same time, they wouldn’t be an anti-fan if they had no one to hate. They rant on and on about how their hatred is a necessity of the celebrity livelihood, that Zico should be grateful as it is their attention that brings his music popularity and thusly lines his pockets—that he is nothing without them. Yet, they need him—they want him to continue making music for them to dismiss as mediocre and unoriginal, they want him to continue giving interviews so they can dissect his answers and dismiss him as problematic and toxic, they want him to continue being on shows and featured in magazines so they can claim his personality arrogant and his appearance ugly. The tone is sarcastic, cold, and mean. Naturally, the last thing they would ever want to do is let him know that without him they have no choice than to face what it reflects about themselves that they take the time to think up and spit out such degrading things to someone who has committed no crimes in his entire life and no true controversy in years. The very last line of this verse carries more weight than appears—stating that they will stop slandering him now as if they are doing him a favor. They are implying that they are taking pity on him now—he must be so destroyed, must be shaken and reeling, from all the faults he has that they’ve shed light on. So, for his sake, they’ll stop, and they challenge him to continue appearing before them if he can handle it.

I’ll wipe away your make-up And tell the world that it was all an act Why do I hate you? The price you’ll pay will be as large as the success you enjoy That’s all I wanna tell you about

I have the lyrics of the chorus as last because they summarize what the anti is saying throughout all of the different types of comments they leave. There is a reason for why these are the lyrics that G.Soul sings. Zico’s voice is what the anti-fans are actually posting, what they are actually themselves typing out and what they believe they mean. G.Soul is speaking for what is within the anti-fan themselves, what they are feeling and why they do what they do even if they might not acknowledge it themselves. Words differ from one hate comment to the next, but the sentiment behind them will always be the same—the one thing that no anti-fan will ever be seen typing in, the thing that Zico has realized about all of his anti-fans. He said as much in the Dazed Digital interview earlier this year, “Nowadays, there are people and comments trying to bring me down.When I see stuff like that, I find myself laughing about it—I don’t understand it, there’s no point to it. How can someone lack that much confidence about themselves that they try to get me down? I mean I don’t even think I’m that great!”

Anti-fans disguise themselves as concerned fans, as critics, as neutral third parties with an unbiased opinion that is only vitriolic and cruel because the celebrity clearly must deserve it. Despite all the different masks, all the various categories of hate-filled messages, that an anti might wear, Zico has realized that what they want is the same—for whatever reason, they want him to hate himself as much as they hate him. They want to see himself as the trouble-causing, simple-minded, partying, problematic, arrogant, selfish, unworthy, overrated celebrity that they paint him out to be and that they are so focused on getting the world to see him as.

I’m not you ANTI

There are several ways to look at the very last line of the song. Initially, I thought it was most probably just an English error on his part, and he meant it as “I’m not your anti”. In that case, the meaning is simple, and the final line simply reiterates the motif previously elaborated on and reiterated throughout the song about how hatred is still interest. The second way this line could be taken, if there is no error in it, is the anti-fan stating that they are not Zico—simply they do not want to be Zico, they are above him for all of the reasons they state throughout the song, all of his controversies and how problematic his image is according to them. In this interpretation, the repeated “anti” at the end would just be a sort of tie-in to state the song title. The final interpretation I offer, and I personally go back and forth between this and the first one, is that this final line is actually from Zico’s perspective—the only part of the entire song that is not supposedly spoken by the anti-fan. If spoken by Zico, this line then turns into “I’m not you, Anti”. It doesn’t matter how much they hate him, how many times and how intensely they degrade him and his loved ones, how much the rip apart his music and claim it insubstantial and unoriginal at best. He’ll never hate himself the way that they seem to hate themselves.

[shirlleycoyle]

‘They Can’t Stop Us:’ People Are Having Sex With 3D Avatars of Their Exes and Celebrities

You can buy a belly button online. It can be an innie, outtie, twisted to the left or the right, and placed on a virtual body. You can also buy a variety of penises, pubic hair, breasts, and tongues, all of which can be tweaked to look however you want. Cobble these together, use a photograph to algorithmically generate a person’s face, and you might be able to make a 3D avatar of someone who is walking around in real life. Import them into another program, and you can have sex with them in virtual reality, without that person ever giving consent.

On forums like Reddit, marketplaces like Patreon, and on standalone websites, communities of anonymous users are making, selling, and getting off to the computer-generated likenesses of celebrities and other real people. The 3D models that emerge from these communities can be articulated into any position, animated, modified, interacted with in real time, and manipulated in ways that defy the constraints of physical reality.

Today, the results are mostly crude. Unlike the most sophisticated deepfake videos traded online, no one is going to mistake any of the 3D models Motherboard has seen during our reporting for actual images of a real person. But the technology to create photorealistic 3D models of real people is rapidly approaching—and it's getting easier for the average user to access those tools and programs.

Some software that's already available automates much of the process for creating the 3D likenesses of real people. Rendering a realistic human is a process which historically required the specialized technical knowledge of teams of artists in game and special effects studios. Those studios, traditionally, have to obtain the rights to use someone's likeness before rendering them, but many hobbyists seemingly make avatars of anyone, with or without their consent.

"I use it to fulfill my sexual fantasies or replicate sexual encounters with my ex-girlfriends," one user commented on a subreddit dedicated to creating 3D adult content with Virt-A-Mate (also known as VaM), software for creating adult VR games and simulations. The user was specifically talking about Foto2Vam, a program that uses a photograph of a real person's face to automatically generate a 3D model with the same face, which can then be used in VR.

"Foto2vam has enabled me to literally feel like I'm there again, i.e. getting a handjob/footjob from my ex looking at me with a smile, or having another ex ride me on the floor in reverse cowgirl in front of a mirror…the possibilities are endless," the user said.

Another user on the same thread said they also use Foto2Vam to render ex-girlfriends performing sexual acts. They wrote that some 3D models turn out better than others depending on how many quality photographs of the person they can work with.

"From now on, we need to make sure we ask girlfriends to pose a few different angles with a blank expression and flat lighting for a few photos and then import them into VaM," they said. "Oh, and I find it amusing to alter reality and give them boob implants, etc. ;)"

Another user explained that they've previously created adult content using Daz 3D—a software for creating 3D models of people that is popular with hobbyists because it's free—but that VaM has fulfilled their dream of interacting with that content in virtual reality. They explained that they recreate real people using a combination of well known, commercial, or free software like Photoshop, Daz 3D, the digital sculpting tool ZBrush, and FaceGen, software similar to Foto2Vam which also generates 3D faces using photographs. These tools aren’t secret; they’re widely used for creating video games, special effects in movies, and other non-pornographic content.

"My biggest wish for the future is to get even [more] photo-realistic girls! Better hair creation, better clothes, shaders… there are still a lot of things to make it even better!" that user said. "I want to say 'thank you' to MeshedVR [the creator of VaM] for this!"

On a Discord channel dedicated to VaM, one user explained that there's nothing people can do to stop VaM creators from making adult content using their likeness, especially public figures:

"Everyone jacks off to everyone, it's human nature, you can't stop it unless you just stay off grid and never go anywhere or show anywhere and nobody knows you even exist…It's our world and freedom, they can't stop us from jacking off, nobody can, they can merely choose extreme privacy," that user said.

None of the users posting publicly about making real people replied to our request for comment, but some deleted their posts after we contacted them.

An example of an interactive Virt-A-Mate experience using a generic model from one of the more prolific creators in the community.

Inside the world of bespoke, 3D-rendered porn

There's nothing inherently wrong with 3D-rendered porn. People have been using computer graphics to create adult content for decades. Second Life still has a large community focused on adult content, and video game assets are often modified to create porn, sometimes featuring the likeness of real actors. Sites like Pornhub are filled with 3D-rendered porn videos.

But VaM and the community around it, including the 7,600 members of its active subreddit, are different because they make it relatively trivial to create a 3D model that looks like someone who exists in the real world and share it with others.

Users can then use those 3D models to create still images and animated videos, or have sex with them using a VR headset and a connected sex toy like the Fleshlight Launch, which automatically strokes the person's penis in sync with action on screen. The communities that are currently trading in these 3D models prove that there is an audience for this type of customizable adult content, a creator class that is willing to do the work to provide it, and an online infrastructure for both creators and bigger corporations like Patreon, Reddit, and Daz which already profit from it.

There are many ways for a person get custom 3D-rendered porn. According to a community wiki, the free version of VaM gives users access to a single "scene" and model, whose body they can modify with a series of sliders, and position by manipulating different body parts in real time. Users who contribute to the VaM Patreon get more interactive and customization features in VaM, like the ability to download scenes made by other creators in the community, customize hair and clothing, and "manually undress models by pulling the clothes off with your in-game hands."

A screenshot of a video tutorial for VaM users that shows a series of sliders for customizing a model's breasts.

The VaM community wiki also instructs users how to create faces using reference photos, create their own animations, and import full models or individual body parts created by other users. For example, the wiki instructs users how to give a 3D model a realistic vagina by downloading one from Renderotica, a community and marketplace for 3D-rendered porn. In 3D modeling this item is called a "morph," which broadly refers to a method for changing the shape of 3D models. A list of compatible morphs in the wiki includes "8 orgasm expression morphs," "a large balls morph," and "the cherry on top of your blowjob collection, introducing a brand new set of lip morphs." Users can also import existing, compatible 3D models created with Daz 3D into VaM.

Nonconsensual use of people's likenesses is a controversial topic in 3D-rendered porn communities.

"There are requests from some people in the forums that go along the lines of 'Hey, if I give you a picture of my wife or girlfriend, can you make a model look like her?'" a creator named Davos told Motherboard. Davos sells extreme fetish accessories and scenes on Renderotica. It's a site where creators like Davos sell adult comics created with 3D models, or 3D body parts that can be modify Daz 3D models.

"Nobody wants to be responsible for somebody doing something hateful or vengeful on a real person," Davos said. "My personal take is, it's okay if you change the name and are willing to take the risk of possibly being told to stop by a nasty letter from a corporate lawyer."

An image using a generic model promoting one of Davos' products, "The Morgue," which includes a variety of objects that are compatible with Daz 3D models.

Another creator of 3D human models that are used in adult content and whose work is supported on Patreon was adamant that the VaM community isn't all about porn, and isn't all about recreating real people, either.

"VaM is really no different than any other adult-oriented game… and is one of the less controversial adult projects, a sandbox that allows users to create their own fantasies," he said. "VaM admins and the developer are one of the few I saw [who are] very very worried about keeping things under control and on a good reputation… Dark aspects have to be expected from porn communities but those can be kept under control."

Sharing 3D-rendered celebrities for interactive porn

The VaM community subreddit's rules instruct members not to post images, videos, or scenes "that could be considered illegal, strongly offensive, or immoral," but has no stated rule about posting 3D models or adult content of real people. In fact, the rules explicitly allow users to post 3D renderings of celebrities as long as they don't include real photos or use their real names in the post: "Abbreviations, nicknames and different names are perfectly fine," the rules state.

Not surprisingly, because of the availability of high-quality photos of them online, and simply because people love to fantasize about unattainable public figures, sharing 3D models of celebrities is one of the most common activities in the community. Motherboard has found dozens of 3D models of celebrities including Emilia Clarke, Natalie Portman, Emma Watson, and Nicki Minaj—most under nicknames, per the rules. The celebrities are recognizable on sight, and sometimes their fake name alluded to their real name, or their identity is referred to in user comments. Almost all the 3D models we saw were of women, but we spotted at least two 3D models of men: Joaquin Phoenix and Chris Pratt.

These posts usually include a link to a file sharing site where other users can download the 3D model and use it themselves, and sometimes a Patreon page, which some creators use to collect money for their work.

A still from a video advertising a VaM 3D model, or "look," of a celebrity by a Patreon creator. Motherboard isn't linking to the creator because they host nonconsensual imagery.

Studies show that women are the most common targets of nonconsensual porn, and abusive manipulated imagery like deepfakes. Experts and victims alike say that even if it's not "real," the experience of seeing one's likeness in nonconsensual porn spread across the internet is legitimate trauma, similar to sexual assault, and not very different from actual revenge porn or spreading sex tapes and nudes without consent.

One creator in the community who uses Twitter to share their work—including a 3D model of an almost-nude celebrity tied up, her face covered in viscous white fluid—said that he has been making 3D models and characters professionally for video games, television, and other commercial videos and simulations for 30 years.

"I mainly create VaM looks and scenes for myself, although I have shared screenshots of my creations, sometimes the full file, for free to the VaM community," he said. "My primary motivation in sharing my files with the community, has been to create interest in the software, [and] bring in more experienced developers who can help grow VaM into a robust VR sandbox."

He added that he has created 3D models of real people he knew, sometimes with their permission. He has also made nonsexual content, like being able to see what he and his wife would look like in a kitchen remodel they considered.

"I also created an ex-gf, just to be able to sit across the table from them one more time. Personally, I see it as nothing more than creating clay busts, or notebook sketches of fond memories and faces," he said. "I do not distribute any IRL content that I have created, with or without permission, as I prefer to remain anonymous."

But he did not have the same standard for celebrities.

"I enjoyed creating celebrity looks as an homage, and in some cases, in sexual situations," they said. "As sexuality is a universal human experience, I don't see a problem with it."

A promotional image from Daz 3D's website advertising its Genesis 3 human model. "We've improved the levels of detail on some of the most critical body parts including the face, mouth, teeth, hands, feet, chest and neck."

Mesh VR, the company that owns VaM, also collects money via Patreon. The founder of Mesh VR, who goes by MeshedVR online, told us they couldn't say for sure how many people use VaM, but almost 8,000 people support it on Patreon.

"It's not going to be absolute or perfect, but it's better than the Wild West situation we're in at the moment."

They said that they know people use the software to make characters from movies and TV shows and interact with them in VR, and feel that it's "OK" as long as the model is mimicking a popular fictional character like Batgirl, for example. But they don't condone creating real people without permission.

"I know people go beyond this and try to recreate real-life people, without consent," MeshedVR said. "For me that is a slippery slope, and is wrought with legal and ethical concerns. I don't include any look-alikes in VaM for this reason, and I have worked with moderators on various sites to help establish rules against creating look-alikes of real people. If someone were to post a recreation of an ex, I would ask it to be removed. On my Discord server, I would remove it myself, since I consider that to be an official server for VaM."

MeshedVR told us that while they are listed as a moderator on the subreddit, consulted on its rules (which allow sharing celebrities), and often browse it to see what the community has come up with, they're not an active moderator there.

"If I see something questionable (models too young looking, celebrity look-alikes, violent act recreation, etc.), I alert the mods, but most times they have already handled it if there is an issue," they said. "I view VaM as a creative tool, like Blender, or Photoshop. What people do with it is largely out of my control."

Duncan Crabtree-Ireland, the chief operating officer and general counsel for the actors' union SAG-AFTRA, told Motherboard that actors can take legal action against people selling 3D models of their likeness by invoking rights of publicity, which close to half the states in the United States currently have. But those laws vary by state, and for ordinary individuals who don't have a famous face, there may be little legal recourse.

"They have legal ability to challenge that, but we have to recognize that is quite burdensome," Crabtree-Ireland said. "They have to hire a lawyer, file a lawsuit, and if the performer has to spend $10,000 to file a lawsuit against each person who used their likeness, that's not the most effective way to address it."

SAG-AFTRA supported a law against deepfake videos that recently passed in California and hopes to pass a similar law in New York, but Crabtree-Ireland said that even new laws won't stop nonconsensual use of someone's likeness entirely.

"There will always be stuff that lingers around the edges and grey areas that are harder to deal with, but if we could make a dent in the rather extraordinary volume of stuff that's going on that will be welcomed and beneficial to the people who are the targets of it," he said. "It's not going to be absolute or perfect, but it's better than the Wild West situation we're in at the moment."

"Of course people are going to do that."

John Danaher, a senior lecturer in law at the National University of Ireland Galway and coeditor of the book Robot Sex: Social and Ethical Implications, told Motherboard that images and representations like this could be viewed as a type of revenge porn if they're created or shared without consent.

"Is this something the other person wants? Is it mutually desirable/pleasurable? I don't think anyone should be creating representations of this sort without the consent of the real person," Danaher said. "I also think anyone who might want to make such an image of themselves should think about the possibility of the representations being stolen, shared, and used for malicious purposes at a later point."

Ultimately, a pornographic image created with VaM doesn't look meaningfully different than a drawn or Photoshopped pornographic image, or other 3D-rendered porn, all of which have have been used to create nonconsensual porn for decades. The difference here, much like it was with deepfakes, is that new technologies have democratized the tools for creating this kind of adult content, making them cheaper and easier to use.

"They're visualizing memories burned into their neurons, adding audio/visual (and now possibly haptic) reality to whatever scraps of time are left in their brain."

The plug-and-play nature of VaM makes it so a user doesn't need to make their own 3D model of a celebrity in order to have sex with it in VR; they can just download a 3D model that someone else in the community has made. Even tools and platforms that are not specifically for adult content enable this—Daz 3D, the popular and free 3D modeling tool, has a store where users can upload and sell their creations. It didn't take much searching to find 3D models of real people like Natalie Portman and Lupita Nyong'o (on sale on that store for $19.95 and $18.95, respectively). These models can be bought, downloaded, and combined with other tools like VaM to create nonconsensual porn. After browsing Daz 3D, we were also targeted with ads of generic, scantily clad 3D models of women that invited us to "get her now." Daz 3D did not respond to our request for comment.

An ad for a Daz 3D model that has followed us across the web after visiting the company's online marketplace for 3D models.

Kyle Machulis, who creates open source software for controlling sex toys, discovered the VaM community because it was using his tools to connect VaM to a Fleshlight Launch, an automated masturbation device. This way, for example, when a character in VaM moved her hand up and down a virtual penis, the Launch strokes the user's real penis in sync, creating a more immersive experience.

Machulis asked users in the VaM subreddit how, exactly, they use the sex simulator. He told Motherboard that he was a little surprised by the answers.

"The fact that I was surprised people would make exes probably says more about me and my naivety than it does about the community," he said. "Of course people are going to do that. They're visualizing memories burned into their neurons, adding audio/visual (and now possibly haptic) reality to whatever scraps of time are left in their brain."

Some people in these communities told us they make 3D avatars of real people because it's cathartic, or because they just like the aesthetics, but they almost always do it to women's bodies. Danaher said that it is potentially unhealthy to hold on to the past in this way, but the people in this community that Motherboard talked to said that programs like VaM are a way to get back to a time or a feeling they can't get back to otherwise.

"Memories exist in [our] heads, memorabilia exists in our physical storage," Machulis said. "When those memories are brought into a digital environment like VaM, Second Life, etc, things get real complicated, real quick."

‘They Can’t Stop Us:’ People Are Having Sex With 3D Avatars of Their Exes and Celebrities syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[ejsponge61]

Kendrick Lamar’s FEAR.

          Since he released his first studio album in 2011, Kendrick Lamar Duckworth has been one of the most celebrated artists in all hip hop. While many contemporary rap artists make songs about the usual topics of sex, drugs, and violence, Kendrick has always tried to have his music deliver deeper messages. In 2012, he imbedded Christian themes and used unique techniques to tell the story of Good Kid, m.A.A.d City, which introduced him to mainstream success. In 2015, he used historical African imagery and references to modern pop culture to tell the story of To Pimp a Butterfly, which is widely considered a classic in the genre. His dense lyrics encourage greater interpretation, which has led to the overwhelming reaction to his latest release, DAMN. This album is by far his least straightforward, which has led to several theories on what the tracks could mean. However, once the lyrics themselves are analyzed, the deeper message is not so obtuse. Now, while I would love to breakdown the entire album, I don’t think anyone would want the pages of this paper to reach double digits. So, instead, I will use the longest track, FEAR., to speak to the album as a whole. But first, allow me to quickly summarize the preceding tracks.

           The track is the twelfth of fourteen, and it serves as the climax of the entire album. In the first track, “BLOOD.”, Kendrick delivers a monologue, in which he is shot by a blind woman while trying to aid her. “DNA.” Tackles both the positive and negative aspects of his being and eventually serves to highlight the fact that these aspects are found in everyone. “YAH.” goes into his family relationships and how they motivate him in his music. “ELEMENT.” highlights Kendrick’s confidence and unwillingness to let people alter his path in life. “FEEL.” serves as the antithesis of “ELEMENT.”, in that it shows, despite his image of being the savior of hip hop, he still desires support from family, friends and fans. “LOYALTY.” describes how he greatly desires faithfulness in his inner circle, while still feeling that God should be to whom one is most loyal. “PRIDE.” and “HUMBLE.” both discuss his struggle to set aside his pride, and how being humble would maybe allow him to better serve mankind. “LUST.” speaks to the reliance on and desire of worldly possessions by not only people he sees, but himself, and how those desire goes against the wishes of God. “LOVE.” is about his ability to love others, and in some cases, specifically about his love for his longtime girlfriend Whitney Alford. And finally, ”XXX.” is about the violence he would see daily during his childhood and adolescence in Compton and how, with his new broadened world view, he believes some of that violence is created by those of higher social and political power.

           Now, the biggest of Lamar’s worldly emotions is “FEAR.”, which he goes into in detail on this track. The song begins with the following phrase.

“Why God, why God do I gotta suffer?

Pain in my heart carry burdens full of struggle

Why God, why God do I gotta bleed?

Every stone thrown at you restin' at my feet

Why God, why God do I gotta suffer?

Earth is no more, won't you burn this muh’fucka?”

          This is one of dozens of religious references made on the album, however this one is filled with much more despair than others. In all the preceding tracks, he discusses his issues and here, he admits he’s not sure why he is chosen to suffer. Also, with the line “Every stone thrown at you restin” at my feet” he is referencing the view of him by many as a savior, or even prophet. In his prior album, To Pimp a Butterfly, he has named himself a prophet on the final track, “Mortal Man”. Because he delivers the message of God, he feels that any criticism of God is one thrown at him as well, hence the stones thrown at God resting at his own feet. After this phrase is heard, the same phrase is then played in reverse as to lead into the first verse of the song, where Lamar is seven years old.

           In this verse, he begins nearly every line with “I beat yo ass”, followed by something a young kid would likely do. These lines, all being from the perspective of his mother, are meant to highlight how instead of calmly correcting a young Lamar’s mistakes, she instead wields fear as a constant threat. The repetitious use of “I beat yo ass” here serves to highlight how, while initially terrifying, the shock of the violence fades away and eventually becomes normal. It also highlights how the same aggressive response is used for things trivial and minor, from acting out in school to just watching TV too loud. However, in some instances, Lamar does test the boundaries of his mother. The line “Better not hear ’bout you humpin' on Keisha's daughter” implies that something similar, or maybe this very act, has occurred before. This leads to the last lines of the verse: “Seven years old, think you run this house by yourself? Nigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else.” Here Lamar’s mother calls out his maturity, but strikes his confidence back down as she desires herself to be in control solely. This leads to the fear he has of disappointing his family and elders, one that sticks with him to this day. After the chorus, which emphasizes how he wishes fear was easy to overcome, the second verse begins.

           Here, Kendrick returns to speaking from his own perspective, except he has aged a few years and is now seventeen. This goes another one of his biggest fears, death. Having a fear of death is by no means rare, but in his exposure to the violence of Compton has led to this fear being more to the forefront of his mind. This verse, once again, uses repetition to hammer home just how prominent this fear is. The phrase “I’ll prolly die” begins almost every line, and after it, he lists another way he could possibly perish. These possible outcomes are ones he’s seen firsthand in Compton. “I'll prolly die from witnesses leavin' me falsed accused” speaks to how he could easily be blamed for crime that he didn’t commit, simply because he may fit the profile of a suspect.  “Or maybe die because these smokers are more than desperate” speaks to how those addicted to crack, and other hardcore drugs, will do anything for money to feed their addiction, including murder. “I'll prolly die tryna buy weed at the apartments” speaks to how the most innocent of interactions to them could easily turn into a life changing event when interference of the police. Specifically, he has a few lines about the possibility of death by police brutality:

                       “I'll prolly die from one of these bats and blue badges

Body slammed on black and white paint, my bones snappin'”

          Kendrick might have been a child during the Rodney King riots in L.A., but incidents like that have clearly stuck with him. In addition to his general fear of dying, he also fears that he’ll “die anonymous” or “die with promises”, meaning he fears that he’ll either die without having left any significant mark on human history or without delivering on the promises he made in life. Then, he reveals that his real fear is not death but that he is not in control of his own life. The final line of the verse, “All worries in a hurry, I wish I controlled things”, illustrates this, and then leads into the final verse of the song.

           In this verse, Kendrick winds the clock forward once again and is now 27, two years away from his current age. He finally ditches the repetitive structure to more clearly speak on his final fear: losing his success. At the age of 27, he released the aforementioned To Pimp a Butterfly. It was likely the most successful period he had ever seen, with him being able to work with him winning his first Grammys for the project. However, this even did not fill him with confidence, but instead shocked him and made him more concerned of losing all that success. Because he has reached heights higher than he had ever foreseen, he questions why would God allow this to happen.

                       “All this money, is God playin' a joke on me?

Is it for the moment, and will he see me as Job?

Take it from me and leave me worse than I was before?”

          Job is a biblical character who was a prosperous man who followed the word of God devoutly. However, God tested him by taking away his wealth and family and inflicting him with disease, only to give his prosperity and health back once he stayed faithful. Lamar questions if his is God’s plan for him, which would justify his fear of losing his wealth. Also, he interesting has a few lines referencing a 2015 controversy between music artist Rihanna and one of her former accountants. After Rihanna sued this accountant over a $9 million loss from that year, they agreed to settle the case for $10 million, only for him to go missing before paying the total. Kendrick uses this example to show just how his own funds could vanish if just one of his accountants was to behave similarly. It’s also funny he’d use Rihanna as an example, as she if featured in the earlier track, “LOYALTY.” At the end of this verse he, once again reveals that his biggest fear is not just that he will lose all he has gained, but that it will come about due to the public misinterpreting his music. Lines like “How they look at me reflect on myself, my family, my city” and “What they hear from me would make 'em highlight my simplest lines.” speaks to how he worries about his perception. And in the final verse, he wraps up the topics of the entire album.

            He lists even more fears here, but now he is using the titles from other tracks on the album in his lines:

“I'm talkin' fear, fear of losin' loyalty from pride

'Cause my DNA won't let me involve in the light of God

I'm talkin' fear, fear that my humbleness is gone

I'm talkin' fear, fear that love ain't livin' here no more

I'm talkin' fear, fear that it's wickedness or weakness

Fear, whatever it is, both is distinctive

Fear, what happens on Earth stays on Earth

And I can't take these feelings with me, so hopefully they disperse”

          Incorporating all these themes heard elsewhere on the album allows up to find the meaning of the album itself. Near the end of that quote, he claims he can’t take these feelings with him. Where could it be going if it’s not earth? The answer is Heaven. In the first track, “BLOOD.”, he is murdered, and all the songs leading to this one are him wrestling with his problems that have led to his fears. And in this track, it culminates in him coming to terms with fear itself, all in order to disperse all of these worldly emotions and leave them on Earth, as they have no place in God’s domain. The following track, “GOD.”, further validates this theory as he now know “what God feel like”, a feeling he could only know by seeing him firsthand.

           DAMN. is one of Kendrick Lamar’s most dense and experimental projects to date. However, despite its initial absence of a straightforward plot, there is just enough here to create a larger framework. And the track, “FEAR.” does the most to help aid in the creation of that framework.

[acryptocurrency1blog-blog]

Make Money Using Crypto Currencies

The Future Of Banknotes And Preventing A Cashless Economy

Bitcoin is a comparatively new kind of currency that's Best Crypto Currencies only begun to strike the mainstream markets.

Critics state that using Bitcoins is dangerous since -

They have no authentic Price

They Aren't regulated

They can be used to make illegal transactions

Still all the significant market players discuss Bitcoins. Below are some good reasons why it is worth using this crypto currency.

Quick payments - When payments are made by using banks, the transaction takes a few days, similarly wire transfers also take quite a long time. On the other hand, virtual money Bitcoin trades are normally more rapid.

"Zero-confirmation" trades are instantaneous, where the merchant takes the risk, which is still not approved by Bitcoin block-chain. If the merchant requires an acceptance, then the trade takes 10 minutes. This is significantly more quickly than any inter-banking transfer.

Inexpensive - debit or credit card transactions are instant, but you're charged a fee for using this privilege. From the Bitcoin transactions, the fees are generally low, and in some cases, it is free of charge.

No one can take it away - Bitcoin is decentralized, so no central power can take away percentage from your deposits.

No chargeback - After you exchange Bitcoins, they're gone. You cannot recover them without the recipient's approval. Therefore, it becomes hard to commit the chargeback fraud, which is frequently experienced by people with charge cards.

Folks purchase goods and if they find it defective, they contact charge cards bureau to create a chargeback, effectively reversing the trade. The credit card company will do it and charges you with expensive chargeback fee ranging from $5-$15.

Safe private details - Credit card numbers get stolen through payments. A Bitcoin trade doesn't require any personal details. You will have to combine your personal key along with the Bitcoin crucial together to do a transaction.

You just have to ensure that your private key is not obtained by strangers.

It is not inflationary - Federal Reserve prints bucks, whenever the economy is sputtering. Government injects the new created money into the economy causing a drop in currency value, thereby triggering inflation. Inflation decreases people's power to get things because prices of products increase.

Bitcoins are in limited supply. The machine was made to quit mining more Bitcoins on reaching 21 million. This means that inflation will not be a problem, but deflation will be triggered, at which costs of goods will collapse.

Semi- anonymous surgeries - Bitcoin is relatively private, but translucent. The Bitcoin speech is revealed at the block-chain. Everyone is able to look in your pocket, but your name will probably be invisible.

Easy micro-payments - Bitcoins allows you to create micropayments like 22 pennies for free.

Substitute of fiat currencies - Bitcoins are good option to hold federal currencies undergoing capital controls, and high inflation.

Bitcoins are receiving valid - Important institutions like the Bank of England and Fed have opted to take Bitcoins for trading. More and more outlets like Reditt, Pizza chains, WordPress, Baidu, and a number of other small companies are currently accepting Bitcoin payments. Many Forex Currency trading and Forex agents also let you trade with the Bitcoins.

Ah but it's Digital currently". "Digital" a note whose origins lie at the latin digitalis, from digitus ("finger, toe"); today it's use is interchangeable with computers and televisions, cameras, music players, watches, etc, etc, etc.. However, what of electronic money or even electronic democracy?

The printing press caused a revolution in its time, hailed as a democratic force for great by many. Books open to the masses was really a revolution and now we have e-books and technological instruments to read them with. The simple fact that the original words are encoded into a numerical type and decoded back to words does not mean we trust less the words we are reading, but we might still prefer the joys of a physical book than a bit of high-tech plastic that needs to have its battery billed to maintain working. Can digital currencies such as bitcoin really provide a contribution to positive social change in as spectacular a manner?

To answer this we have to inquire what of money, how are we to know it, use it and integrate it into a sustainable model of a 'better world for everybody?' Cash, unlike any other form of Property, is unique in that it may be used for anything before an event even occurring. It implies nothing, yet may be used for great good or great evil, and yet it's only that which it is despite its many manifestations and consequences. It is a one of a kind but much misunderstood and misused commodity. Money has the simplicity of easing buying and selling, and a mathematical sophistication as demonstrated by the financial markets; and yet it has no notion of egalitarianism, moral or ethical decision making

It acts as an autonomous entity, yet it is both endogenous and exogenous to the global community. It has no personality and is readily replaceable, yet it is treated as a small resource in the world context, its growth regulated by a set of complicated rules which determine the way in which it may act. Yet despite this the outcomes are never entirely predictable and, moreover; a commitment to social justice and an aversion to moral turpitude isn't a requirement of its usage.

In order for a currency to effectively do the financial functions required of it, the intrinsic-value of money has become a commonly held belief by those using it. In November 2013 that the US Senate Committee on Homeland Security & Governmental Affairs confessed that virtual monies are a legitimate means of payment, an example of this is Bitcoin. Due to the very low transaction fees charged by the 'Bitcoin system' it delivers a very real way to permit the transfer of capital from migrant workers sending money back to their families without having to pay large transport fees billed by companies. An European Commission calculated that if the global average remittance of 10 percent were decreased to 5 percent (also the '5x5' initiative endorsed by the G20 at 2011), that this could lead to an additional US$ 17 billion flowing into developing countries; using this blockchain would reduce these charges near to zero. These cash transfer businesses who extract wealth from the system might become dis-intermediated through the usage of such an infrastructure.

Possibly the main point to note about cryptocurrencies is that the distributed and decentralised nature of the networks. With the growth of the world wide web, we are maybe just seeing the 'tip of the iceberg' with regard to future inventions that might exploit undiscovered possibility of permitting decentralisation but at a hitherto hidden or unimaginable scale. Thus, whereas previously, when there was a need for a large network it was only achievable using a hierarchical arrangement; with the effect of the requirement of broadening the 'power' of the network to a small number of people with a controlling interest. It may be stated that Bitcoin represents the decentralisation of cash and the transfer to a simple system strategy. Bitcoin represents as significant an advancement as peer reviewed file sharing and internet telephony (Skype such as).

There is very little explicitly produced legal law for digital or virtual monies, however there are a wide assortment of current legislation which may apply depending upon the nation's legal financial framework for: Taxation, Banking and Money Transmitting Regulation, Securities Regulation, Criminal and/or civil law, Consumer Rights/Protection, Pensions Regulation, Commodities and shares law, along with others. So the two important issues facing bitcoin are if it can be regarded as legal tender, and if as an advantage then it is classed as land.

It is common practice for nation-states to explicitly define currency as legal tender of another nation-state (e.g. US$), preventing them from recognising other 'monies' formally as money. A notable exception to this is Germany which allows for the idea of a 'unit of account' that can therefore be applied as a kind of 'private money' and can be used in 'multilateral clearing circles. In the other context of being considered as real estate that the obvious discrepancy this is that, unlike land, digital currencies possess the potential for divisibility into much smaller amounts. Developed, open markets are usually permissive to digital currencies. The USA has issued the most guidance and is highly represented on the map below. Capital controlled economies are effectively by definition controversial or hostile. As for most African and a few other countries the topic hasn't yet been addressed.

Beginning In the principles of democratic involvement it's immediately apparent that bitcoin doesn't fulfill the positive societal impact component of such an objective in so far as its value isn't one it can exert influence over but is subject to market-forces. Yet any 'new' crypto-currency may provide democratic involvement once the virtual money has different rules of government and issuance based upon more environmentally based democratic fundamentals.

So what if a "digital" currency could provide a valid alternative to existing types of money in performing the role of contributing positively to: the goals of promoting a mutually inclusive civilization, the equality of opportunity and the marketing of mutualism; which as their very name implies are alternative and/or complementary to an official or national sovereign currency? Virtual cryptocurrencies like bitcoin are a new and emerging dynamic in the machine; though in their infancy, the speed of innovation within the field of cryptocurrencies were dramatic.

There are many factors that determine the 'potency' of cash to bring about positive social and environmental change; pervading political ideology, economic surroundings, and the desire of local communities and people to pursue alternative social outcomes whilst trying to maximise economic opportunity, construction of social funds, and lots of others. If a regional digital currency could be designed to construct extra resilience into a local economy and enhance economic outcomes then launch to a more widespread basis merits investigation. When the current economic system fails to provide it's manifested in such manner as: increased social isolation, higher crime rates, physical dereliction, poor health, a lack of a feeling of community, among other undesirable societal impacts.

Crypto Currency is digital money that's no specific nation rather than created by any government-controlled bank. These electronic currencies are also known as Altcoins. They're based on cryptography. This money is created by a mathematical procedure so that it will not lose its value as a result of large flow. There Are Various Types of Crypto Currency for example Litecoin, Bitcoin, Peercoin and Namecoin. The trades using the electronic currency are carried out using the mechanics of mining. People who wish to perform this procedure, generate the currency in their computers with the help of the software meant for this use. When the currency is created, it is recorded in the community, thus announcing its presence

The value of Altcoins went to amazing levels throughout the previous couple of years and consequently, its mining is now an extremely profitable business. Many companies started making chips that are exclusively used for conducting the cryptographic algorithms of the process. Antminer is a popular ASIC hardware utilized for drawing out Bitcoin.

Mining Bitcoins: Antminer Includes different specifications such as U1 and U2+. The two U1 and U2+ are about the Exact Same size. While U1 includes a default hash rate of 1.6 GH/s, U2+ gets the hash speed of 2.0 GH/s. The practice of inputting the Bitcoins trades in the public ledger is known as Bitcoin mining. The brand new They are introduced to the system by means of this process. The Bitcoin miner can make transaction fees and subsidy for the recently created coins. ASIC (Application Specific Integrated Circuit) is a microchip made specifically for this procedure. When compared to previous technology, they're quicker. The service offered by this Bitcoin miner is based on specified performance. They provide a specific level of manufacturing capacity for a set price.

Mining Altcoins: Even though this process is extremely easy, they're of much lesser value when compared to Bitcoin. Due to the lower value Altcoins aren't as popular as the other. People who want to make from their Altcoins may run the right program in their PCs. The Altcoins use the mining algorithm known as 'Scrypt'. They cannot be solved using the ASIC chips. The miners can then spend the currency or swap them for Bitcoins in the Crypto Currency Exchange. For producting Altcoins, the miner must write a short script for the command prompt. Those who write the script are ensured of succeeding. One must decide whether to join a pool or to produce alone. Joining the pool is the perfect choice for Altcoin miners.