#idk what to even tag this post rip i have been off of tumblr TOO LONG besties

[mixtapedoh]

hey, you wanna come in ?

guess who is on break???? yes, yes, that is correct, i am back for a limited time only, and clearly the best way to remind tumblr of my existence is through a celebration!

also, i want to populate this blog with some original content before i start my bastardization arc in full and remind you all that i am an incorrigible fanfic writer first, and a person second, but that's a secret secondary motivation so shhhh,,,,, nobody needs to know...

from NOVEMBER 21st TO NOVEMBER 25th enjoy sending in these silly mini-games...

｡･:*˚:✧｡

ᝰ — tomboy this or that ! (double points if you choose something so difficult i agonize for 4+ hours, still torn up about it after the fact.)

࿔*:･ — baila conmigo (span. ver.) rankings ! (give me an album and i will rank the songs on it. give me a group, and i will rank their comebacks.)

ꨄ — gunshot cast a kpop group as ___ ! (like cast your mutuals except my violent vibechecks are applied to the members of a group.)

૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩ — cheers memes ! (send in an idol and i will gift you with my favorite meme of theirs.)

ੈ✩‧₊ — charmer pinterest saves ! (send me an idol and i will give you a handful of my favorite photos of them, all sourced through every tumblr girl's bad habit: pinterest)

˙✧˖ — airplane pt. 2 mini aesthetics ! (send me an idol and i will make a silly moodboard of 4 or so pictures for them.)

⁀➴ — sour mini playlists ! (based on the vibes of you/your blog, i will assign you with 5 or so kpop songs that are decidedly yours. bonus points if you give me your ult group so i can choose at least one from them.)

;༊ — lonely boy mini headcanon sets ! (send me an idol and a silly little trope and i'll write brief headcanons about it.)

｡･:*˚:✧｡

groups i will write for: bts, seventeen, stray kids, kard, ateez all groups are open for aesthetics, though if i'm not familiar with them, it will be initial vibes only. very violent. very valid.

send in as many as you'd like and please reblog this post if you send something in!

tagging: @mikrrokosmos, @chanselysees, @eclliipsed, and @armsunfold (the way I had to SEARCH for your url is embarrassing. someone tell god to let me have more silly tumblr time.)

[maybege]

You and me and lord huron is like that meme where the brains are on the same wavelengths you know the one with the blue background

All I know is whatever happened led to this altered calmer situation here and I’m a fan!!! Lord Huron only gets better with age so the wait will be *chefs kiss*

I’m so glad writing happened for you! I know you’ve felt a bit stuck! Cramps are the worst but taking care of yourself and not forcing anything is always good

But yes the angst!! The drama! *insert Leslie Knope here you know the one* some deep rivalry between the clans? Between Paz and another suitor? And somehow you two end up apart (war, arranged marriage, idk dealers choice) and he’s fighting his way to you but he gets there. And. And. And it’s too late, you’re gone, somewhere he’s not sure he can follow. And there’s rain and maybe something burning so the fire gives ~drama~ and he’s there, exhausted, muddy, desperate. Devastated. And maybe, to tie in the next lines, you had had some fight. Things were said that weren’t meant, just meant to hurt (baby I don’t mean the things I said / I don’t honestly wish you were dead). Maybe you weren’t always friends, or lovers, or anything at all. Maybe you were still figuring out how to be honest, to be vulnerable. And right when maybe you were starting to figure it out you’re ripped from each other.

Wow that got out of hand anyway byeeeee

-💛

Ps I can’t remember some of the lord huron stuff I sent. Maybe one day I’ll remember it or it’ll appear somewhere idk anyway take care !

It’s us on our Lord Huron bs 😌

I think in my head I’ve got the calmer fix it au kind of figured out which means that I hope i get to finish it as soon as this flu is over and then there’s no holding me back from the absolute divine AU that is the Lord Huron inspired ones 👀

Oh oh oh i Love that 🥺 it’s raining and the ruins are burning and the river is lit up by the blaster fire but all he can think of is you and how you must’ve been dragged away by your captor before he and his warriors arrived. Yes, you might’ve had a big fight before - both of you said things you never meant, feelings got hurt, maybe hearts got broken but stars, Paz loves you. Even if it was just an arranged marriage in the beginning, it’s no longer just that for him. For him, you’re it. And he’ll burn down planets if it means having you safe and sound in his arms again.

And imagine the relief and the sorrow when he finally finds you. You’re a little bruised and scared but thank the stars not too badly hurt (though that will not keep Paz from making your captor regret the day he was born) and when he sees you, you’re just rushing into his arms, sobbing out apologies, confessing you never meant any of the words and hiccuping that, “Paz, I - all I thought was what if those are the last words I’ve ever said to you and I -“ before you trail off into sobs again.

Paz doesn’t say anything. Underneath his helmet, tears are just trailing down his cheeks as he holds you so close so he never has to let you go again. “Let us go home, cyare,” he whispered finally, his voice suspiciously hoarse, “Let me take you home.”

PS: Your Lord Huron Asks are safe and sound in my inbox for the very sad reason that I’m scared if I post them, they’ll get lost in The Tumblr before I need them again for the fics 🥲 though as I’m writing this I suppose I could just give them a unique tag to find them again 🤔

[nydescynt]

This is neat; I would have happily gotten the Platinum badge to support even two weeks ago.

To preface, I am one of the small % of users who actually paid for ad-free. I made a point of buying from merch. I do genuinely want this site to exist and I know money is necessary for that. I started paying a year ago for ad-free in good faith bc things like tag editing being added, image descriptions, and jokey monetization like sending crabs to friends/Blazing posts made me think this site was actually improving!

And then y'all started actively ruining UX and endlessly futzing around with UI. I was paying for ad free, and my yearly re-up was coming up this September. Getting an inescapable clown ad despite paying to not have to see ads, and now being forced to have the literal center button on my UI be something I Do Not Want To Click On made me cancel & rate the app 1 star.

Things that would make me give you money again:

Add a real way to disable the Tumblr Live button. No amount of forcing me to exist in proximity to it will make me use it- it actually just makes me more recalcitrant about Live. I get if y'all are contractually obligated to include it by default with new users, but there should be a real way to turn off seeing that button.

Make Tumblr Live actually good? Idk if that's possible with your current skeevy app partner, but like- if you added Twitch/YouTube and OBS integration, more people might actually.. use it? Stop trying to be TikTok and figure out a stream niche you can actually fill. Yall are the home of weird queer artists & crazyinsane fandom communities; livestreaming isn't inherently antithetical to that, but what's been offered so far is just data-mining junk with no connection to the site as a whole.

Make ad-free actually ad-free. I don't care if it's not part and parcel of your usual ad campaigns- if I'm paying for ad free, and then I see ads, it feels like a rip-off. This is especially asinine because the .2 cents I make you for scrolling past Discount Pennywise is way less than $40 a year.

Fix the appeals process for blogs incorrectly marked as bots. I get that automation catches the wrong blogs occasionally, but I and everyone I know who has had this occur took 2-3 weeks minimum to get this fixed. It's way too common a problem for the appeals process to be this slow.

Retrain everyone on how not to be transphobic. Again. There are trans people posting absolutely normal, clothed selfies who are then having their images marked as mature. There are a lot of posts I've seen of what is Very clearly nudity in art, which is then marked Mature or taken down entirely, and this is 1000% more likely if the art is about trans people or trans themes. This is unconscionable bigotry, and I keep seeing yall say it was a mistake or an error or fixed now, and then I see the same shit happening.

Anyways. If y'all undo the Live button UI nonsense & make good faith moves on fixing some of the rest of this, I am absolutely down to sign up for ad-free again, and even this badge silliness. But I'm not going to keep paying for the privilege of my user experience getting worse.

Tumblr Supporter badge: Show your loyalty with Pizazz

Many of you have asked for a way of supporting Tumblr that works like regular donations. Well, this is that, with a little whimsy thrown in for good measure. Imagine. A badge that gets shinier and shinier with your continued support—and helps Tumblr stay Tumblr. 

Enter the Tumblr Supporter badge. Part of a move towards a more user-led business model, this is a new auto-renewable subscription that allows you to wear your support of Tumblr in style. 

How it works:

The Tumblr Supporter badge is a special badge that works like a recurring donation subscription service. As a supporter, you get a specially designed badge based on how long you have been supporting Tumblr in this way. Your supporter badge will evolve from Steel to Copper, Gold, Platinum, and, eventually, Oil Slick. As your support continues, you will collect these badges at each milestone, to be displayed as you choose on any of your blogs.  

There are two subscriptions, monthly and yearly: 

Monthly: Start at Steel and progress through the different badges at each milestone, eventually reaching the coveted Oil Slick.

Yearly: Start at Platinum (it's like you've jumped ahead a year. Look at you, cheating time). You'll progress straight to Oil Slick at your next payment milestone after a year.

Pricing:

Tumblr Supporter Monthly: $2.99

Tumblr Supporter 3 Months: $7.99 ($1 OFF)

Tumblr Supporter 6 Months: $15.99 ($2 OFF)

Tumblr Supporter Yearly: $29.99 (15% OFF)

More details:

This monthly or yearly subscription will renew automatically at each interval unless you choose to cancel. 

If you cancel your subscription or a payment fails, you'll still have your badge, but it won't show up unless/until you restart your subscription. If/when you do so, you'll pick up right from the badge level you were at when you ended your subscription.

This is currently being rolled out for mobile and web in English. We’ll be rolling out to other territories in the coming weeks.

That’s all for now. We hope you enjoy this new badge as much as we enjoyed coming up with it, so we can keep making odd little tchotchkes for you to enjoy. Stay weird, Tumblr <3 

[castle-dominion]

c3x21 the dead pool I think

everyonehasthoughts, if you're reading this, I tagged you with this: "btw shout out to @/everyonehasthoughts for reading a fic I was feeling unsure of!" when thinking about alex conrad & rick castle

Who would go swimming at night like that???

kindness : ) U better have asked beckett...

RC: Come on he's a writer, how much trouble could he be?

Food poisoning? He Should Not Have Been Swimming

It's a 6am swim practice & this boy was up at 1.30 swimming? Did he wake up early or stay up late? When does he sleep?

Oh there's an aussie

...Where do babies come from? Remembers her last name too? Wow Beckett lowkey checking him out

Interesting view of the morgue

We see montgomery's eyes a little bit teary. He must really care abt this case. I mean I get it, the poor mother. This is one of the best mom interview scenes we've had.

RM: It says here she's 5'2", you really think she can overpower Zack? KR: Uh, no, but her brothers could. In Grand Irish Tradition, she has four of them, each over six foot, (he says grand irish tradition while standing like 5'8" with three older sisters) each with his own claim to fame: KR: Assault. RC: Ooh KR: Ag assault (aggravated assault) RC: Bad (RM looks at castle making a comment for every one; if it's a long list it's going to be a lot of comments) KR: ADW (assault with a deadly weapon) RC: Eee KR: Battery RC: Mm KR: Assault on a city employee parking enforcement RC: Doesn't count (so valid bestie) RM: Easy KR: Dude KB: (just looks at him) RC: I.. just jokes! (acab bro) RM: RC: RM: ! RC: ..

ew steamed chix breast with no seasonings. Bodybuilders are just like that huh. (when does he sleep? wakes up for 6am swim team, stays up at night until 1am doing what he does & swimming...) Idk some scary looking guy. They went at it. Me, after hearing her say she thought he was with another girl: THEY WERE DOING WHAT Girl you might be able to say NOT a certain accent. Not british, not australian, not east asian, not baltimore, but you don't know what it IS?

... Does beckett have a sticky note pad of... dead people? wtf? Yo espt's outfit today! It's a maroon/burgundy shirt, button up, collared, but it has nice pockets, interesting fabric block placement, & even little straps that go atop his shoulders. Espt & Castle are doing the "build off of each other" thing that caskett does. Did those two have some offscreen action? (won't clip but I love the way they look at each other)

THEY USED TO HAVE WHAT RACES I'm so glad I live up north, it is not even that far north tbh... Remember Norman Jessop & how he helped crack the case by saying that the door was not locked? Yeah. Maybe they trashed the place before he was killed, you don't know! Wait a dental pick? Right after I mentioned Norman Jessop? I literally brought down my finesse picks (which look like dental picks) downstairs TODAY & practiced my lock skills! I have a real pick set too but I wanted to try out the carving/dental picks. (btw I am not a criminal, I just read a tumblr post once about some guy who got back into his office & impressed a girl & I wanted to impress girls too.) Oh come on the ones who trashed his apartment would have seen that! RC: Only one thing I know of comes in vials like that. Me: pee? RC: Steroids

Bro it's designer. & u can detect it if u specifically look for it. Why does Dr Parish know that? Also where is perlmutter?

WOAH OK DID THIS GUY GET BEAT UP IS HE DRUNK OR IS HE HUNG OVER? IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY WHAT? SO HE EITHER GOT BEAT UP OR IS DRUNK & EVEN THO HE'S A COP ASKING AROUND FOR THE SISTER'S MURDER CHARGE I FEEL IT'S JUST AS LIKELY HE'S DRUNK. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY. (Ryan comes in all banged up & shabby looking. His tie is way off to the side, he looks like he hasn't slept properly in a week, his posture is struggling, his shirt cuffs are hanging out from his coat cuffs, his eyebrows are very low, & his jacket has a rip in it.) KR: Well, she wasn't lying about her brothers. JE: *leans back to get a better look at this man* RC: *sees ryan then looks harder as his face deepens its concern* KR: Talked to all four of them, JE: *looks his partner up & down* KR, putting his tie back on properly: one Irishman to another, JE: >:| KR, voice dropping in pitch as he stares into the distance: & another. JE: *raises eyebrows at castle & beckett* KR: Anyway, they alibied out. They were in New Paltz when Zack was killed. KB: All of them? KR: Mm. (confirmation) KB: For what? KR: KR: They were at a sporting event, of-uh ...sorts. *immediately turns around to walk away* KB: Which was? KR: *licks teeth to stall* KR: Leprechaun toss. *looks immediately to esposito* Don't. ask. (JE & RC share a look & try not to laugh) (a leprechaun toss from what I hear is where you take a little-person & literally throw them as far as you can. Usually into a mattress.) KR: Anyway, the, uh, older brother, he got *notices rip in jacket* first place. KR, toying with the shoulder of his jacket which is falling off at the seam, voice jumping literally an octave like I measured: Oh, man. KB: *trying not to smile* RC: Well, the merits of Irish culture aside, KR: Hey. >:( RC: Sorry & then when beckett asks ryan to do smth he doesn't answer with words, he just raises a fist. Like holy crap this poor man, what happened to him? That's a deleted scene I Want To See!

When did they learn that half the time he was leaving w/o his gym bag?

Ooh alex conrad! AC: *gives a good idea* RC: *proud of him* KB: AC: Well that's just me idk RC: don't worry it takes experience KB: no u'r right uwu uwu Keep in mind, she is also in a romantic relationship as well as being your so called muse.

five to ten in mythology jail Hold on he had a book called dead serious & his new book is called seriously dead? this is a game of concentration; category is plants: WEASEL This is like when Gracie came back & was hella goth

An edible way of saying thank you so much for last night? JE, walking by (beckett is talking abt the case) JE, stops when he sees the Big Basket of Mini Muffins (Beckett is mentioning smth that must be done) JE: Oh how about I run it down? KB: Thanks JE: yeah, *takes the file from her & one of her muffins* *looks at castle guiltily really quick before walking off* RC: Muffins KB: Mhmm, Alex Conrad sent them to me. RC: *drops the muffin immediately & it just falls to the floor* Girl she is literally in a relationship with josh rn wait no wait he meant "got together" in a normal sense not "Got Together" in That sense. & then she stretches Like That???

Ryan outfit update: Maroon sweater, doesn't look too loosely woven & not fraying/fuzzy/wooly, long-sleeved, high vneck; warm navy blue dress shirt; maroon tie. (Oh & later on he gets a grey jacket too, decently light) Castle's outfit is valid but kind of ugly, I don't like the shirt Oh no not an underground website mr castle (& then ryan in the background playing with the medical thing, showing beckett while castle makes a search on someone's computer, idk whose computer tbh) Ryan just.. letting the thing expand around his fingers for no apparent reason

Tommy Marcone is actually not all that wrong. He's dead; nothing u can do abt that now. Hey tommy, smart observation! *drops a hundy for the house & for the bartender, tip for a tip*

They have printers right on their desks eh? Ok but my question: Whose desk is whose? Does rysposito sit back to back or across from one another? does beckett have someone who sits across from her & uses that computer?

Oh nice, the boys made it & got the other side! Just in time! Kinda f'ed up the cops go into this business (probably at least partially legitimate) & just start waving around guns. (of jail in this country is vacation? That is the point. Vacate. Jail is to get dangerous people out of society NOT a punishment.)

NICE CAR!

Tommy is so right. RC: Like a dead mobster in the trunk? Just like that last episode! I like Tommy. He's cute

I don't like brian. He looks like he's made of plastic. He looks hella douchey. Wow that line was rehearsed Oh that line? It was the dad (hold on, the car guy has the accent but he is not the one supplying the eastern-european drugs)

Ryan my man! Already has the information needed! Reminds me of george crabtree. Since he got convicted (falsely but voluntarily) he couldn't make detective even tho he already had everything that murdoch asked him for. Ugh it was so sweet I want to cry. & he literally says follow the money like brax in his line: You practically need an MBA to follow the money RC: Especially in today's competitive market Me: it's like that movie where the assassins try to unionize! (great movie btw)

Woah & outfit update on esposito, man's got a lapelled jacket with a hundred pockets! Tho his shirt idk. Long sleeved dark reddish brown, a few buttons at the top, no collar. Jeans too.

Poor tommy. I love him sm. Probably bc he's cute & I like his tone. If he had a different tone then I'd likely be so mad at him

Girl she's right. it IS about how fat someone's wallet is. With power & influence & money you can get away with a lot of illegal stuff, even if they catch you. it's sad.

They got milkshakes or smth?? Is "struck out" a good thing or a bad thing? We struck out! that shot in the dark we sent hit & we got the info we needed! Ugh, we struck out. that last bat was another miss & we don't have any info. Nice laptop Not the one phone call, that was a dozen but they were all to one guy.

Hypothetically.

Why did they direct Ryan to sit? Is it to make him look Baby?

First names : ) Alex Conrad really does look like mini castle Like a piece of meat.

Oh right. May his memory bring joy to all who remember. I like how he pushes the chair back in I hope this boy knows how to play poker Treading water lol dead serious lol, that's his book title Guys cut him some slack lmao 23 more

No no no not the coach Audio changed whoa wow ok then

No no... no not the cologne guy BRO DON'T SEARCH HIS APPARTMENT HWITHOUT TELLING HIM HE HAS A RIGHT TO SEE THE WARRANT. No... (even tho guy on the cereal box comment was funny)

B plot much? Yeah u were p hard on him. Admitting to his jealousy! This is legit & beautiful & honest. I'm glad you at least feel bad about it castle

Wait are they discussing the torture from a few episodes back? Wow their pride (& I'd expect trauma) really healed fast. Except that ryan says: "& then he said, 'they used to do this to me for talking in class' " except ryan was the one to say that in the first place. (also ryan's outfit is kinda weird. blue/yellow gingham type patterned shirt, collared & button up at least, no tie tho, sleeves rolled up.) (& beckett looks good in a turtleneck) Riker's? That a prison? (is that why kate says don't feel bad or is it bc she set him onto the boys for muse?) RC: Will you still send me your writer's draft? AC: Yes as soon as I change the killer RC: Girlfriend? AC: Rookie mistake. btw shout out to @everyonehasthoughts for reading a fic I was feeling unsure of! (ryan & alex get going while espt hangs back) JE: So a dude can be a muse, right bro? I mean it isn't weird or anything,, is it? RC: No, it's not weird KB: No JE: No, yeah *walks off to catch up with his friend & the guy who is asking him abt stuff for a book* RC, quietly: It's a little weird KB: yeah me: mostly bc it seems like they are competing for his attention ACH IT'S ANOTHER ALWAYS

that's just so sweet

(btw I need a fic now where alex can't tell if they are lovers & things get awkward)

Ok so I went thru & grabbed some clips. I actually watched the whole thing while harvesting my pennycress. Well I listened & when smth worth clipping came up then I'd clip it. Usually I watch it sped up until I get to the points i want to clip, but I struggled to find parts I wanted & I was penny-cress-ing anyway

[angelbxxy]

Hey y’all idk how this works I’ve never been struggling this hard before. My two daughters lost their dad my fiancé a week ago from a heart problem we didn’t know he had. It was sudden and now I have to plan a funeral alone. I never imagined that he would be gone we were just talking about getting a life insurance policy like a month ago but never did it. I already have our two daughters I gotta take care of on 1 income now I don’t know how I’m gonna pull this funeral off of anyone can help us send him up the right way plz consider donating 🥺😭❤️

Cashapp $prettymom18

January 15th 2023🚨⏰⚰️

Update!!!!!

Still waiting on donätîons I currently only have $250(I took out a loan that’s all I was approved for)/$3,400(cost of funeral service and funeral home plus casket. The $3,400 DOES NOT INCLUDE THE BURIAL 🪦🥺😭⚰️😣♥️

Please help us if you are able and I would appreciate it if you can not help us financially, a reblog and prayers will always be appreciated.

RIP my one and only Prince Charming 🥺❤️🪦⚰️

Cashapp $prettymom18

UPDATE JAN15th 8:54pm

Still 0 help but I’m still great full for all the reposts and likes if you know anyone who may be able to help or has a big following on here PLEASE don’t hesitate to tag them in ur repost or just tag them on the comments ❤️🙏

PS my friend said if someone wants to donate but they don’t have cash@pp I can give them her Venmo or chime or PayPal so if that is what is stopping you from donating DM me and I can send you her vënmø or paypãł

Thank y’all again♥️

XO XO XO and GOD BLESS🙏🏽

Katie 🥰⚰️🪦🫶🏽👩‍👧‍👧❤️‍🔥💔✝️

I probably should’ve put this in the original post but I’m having trouble getting donations and I’m doing this all by myself his family hasn’t even called me since I told them he passed and I was a foster kid so I really don’t have anyone to help. The only person that is helping me is financially struggling too but she took out a loan bc my credit sucks so I was denied anyway thank u if u have anyone on here who u talk to a lot see if they can repost it too I wanna get some type of traction lol

UPDATE JAN 16th

Tumblr BLOCKED ME FROM MESSAGES WTF HAPPENED!!!! Someone plz help me get my messages back

Plus still no donations so please keep reposting and thank you for all the support from the reblogs

Jan18 update

Thank you to whoever sent $5 that’s the first and only donation I’ve gotten so far

Please if u can’t donate repost and tag your friends!!! I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t raise enough for the funeral, I don’t even have enough for a cremation

Jan 20 update

Im $30 short to start a payment plan with the funeral home I have an appointment tomorrow morning at 9am PLEASE SEND HELP either repost or dono

Anything helps us!

Help us bury my kids dad and my fiancé!

GOD BLESS PRAYERS ARE WELCOME TOO!

Jan 30th update♥️❤️‍🔥🥺😭🚨

So I DIDNT get enough money to have a funeral for my fiancé 😖😭 we had to cremate him and they put me on a payment plan. I still want to have a repass but I need to get a hall or something to gather everyone. The cheapest one I’ve found is $350 for 5 hours

ANY HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED AND HELPFUL

I want to celebrate his short life and the memories we all have with him ♥️

It’s been 3 almost 4 weeks since he’s been gone and life being a widow mother of 2 is a lot harder than I ever imagined. Please repost even if you can’t help ❤️‍🔥

@localmacguffin @laymedowninsheetsoflinen @enderamethyst @transgendz @othert @pixelstx @spongebobssquarepants @queenpandaxoxo @pukicho @shareyourdollar @mutual-aid-booster @horangi @jacklant3rn @bugs-for-hugs @difficult @commie-cosmo @yellowgirl93 @racism-inc @mousedetective @vaspider @shineemoon @queenpandaxoxo

[chelseasasimmer]

Check In Tag

Tagged by @kissalopa (thank you!!)

Why did you choose your url?

Top 10 mysteries science still can't answer Honestly, idfk, it's just the first thing that came to my head when creating this blog. I'm thinking about changing it to be the same as my Origin ID, although I don't know how I came up with that one either so...

2. Any side blogs? If you have them name them and why you have them.

Nah, if you follow me on here you get subjected to everything I post.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I've been posting to this account since September 2021, but I actually made this account a couple months before that.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

No lol. I don't even have a queue going at the moment.

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

I made it mostly so I could share my Plumgo legacy challenge gameplay, lol (#rip).

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Idk, it's just a piccrew I made that vaguely resembles me.

7. Why did you choose your header?

It's a photo of the Grim Reaper playing on one of my sim's computer after he'd reaped her mum, which I thought was kinda funny. Idk.

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

Um, it's this one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/chelseasanidiot/673333734186057728 (tbh, every now and then this post'll get a handful of notes all at once and I'm just like 'oh shit, oh fuck, what happened, and in what community??')

The most notes I have on a sims related post though is this one: https://chelseasanidiot.tumblr.com/post/669190134115254272/100-followers-gift-sim-dump-this-preview-is (shout out to Lorraine for reblogging it, at least half of the notes on it came from that, lol)

9. How many mutuals do you have?

A lot. I don't actually talk to many of them though :)

10. How many followers do you have?

440 (!!!) as of writing this

11. How many people do you follow?

672

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

Maybe? I think the only non-sims things I've posted have been about my trainwreck mental health, which I don't think counts as a shitpost, but maybe it does?

13. How often do you use tumblr each day?

Too much. Far, far too much.

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

Uhm, I did make a vague call-out post (see question 8) about another simmer for being acephobic. They ended up deactivating, but I kinda cringe at myself every time I think about. So I guess I won, but at what cost?

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

Fuck off, I post what I want.

16. Do you like tag games?

YEAH!!!

17. Do you like ask games?

YEAH!!!!!

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

Um, I have a couple of followers who I happen to know are at least decently simblr famous. And tbh that's kinda wild cause, like, why are you following me? I'm just some guy, you know?

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

First of all, I haven't had a crush on anyone at all for, like, over 3 years now, so... (yes it is a major concern of mine, thanks for asking)

Oh, fuck, I've gotta tag people now, huh?

@autismtrait, @c-ookie, @plumbponette, @kimbr3 and I guess anyone else who wants to do this :)

[discrunkled-twog]

Chapter 15

Tags: Angst, Feelings Realization, but backwards, idk- Freeform, Very Much Angst, Hanahaki, Slow Burn, Coffee, Coffee Shop AU, Holy God Of The Coffee Pot, because i said so, i still feel bad for all the language in this ficcccccccccc-, anyways here we go

Rating: Rated M for le F word. (I still feel bad-)

Chapter Summary: disgruntled_twig makes a little realization, while Sorkid makes a pretty BIG one.

@s0urmania SOR-CHAAAAAAAN I THINK YOU'LL LIKE THIS ONNEEEE

I feel like this fic is finishing too fast. Anyway, enjoy!

Breathing is entirely subconscious, until in the mind, it becomes… conscious.

disgruntled_twig no longer had the luxury of this claim.

It had started off like a cold, sharp and sweet, but still worth it. Distracting, definitely, and most of all annoying. It grew, as flowers did, to have full five-petaled Forget-Me-Nots come out of her face, so slick and jagged, when the one time she swallowed a penny and coughed it back up, she marked it as a major physical intrusion. Cold and copper, but at least it was smooth.

Then it’d been slightly more agonizing. Faint, throbbing pain in the back of the throat, relentless and more distracting than the previous level of love, or pain, or whatever she’d decided to call it that day, but still worth it. In a notebook, she’d written that it was still worth it, to at least have the experience. It was no longer natural to simply breathe; something she never knew she’d miss, though now it was constant and horrible and though it really wasn’t that bad it made her want to rip her throat out just to make it stop-

And now it was…

Numb, she’d had the pleasure of experiencing, though not in the way she’d preferred.

Okay, so I just can’t sing anymore…?

On her notebook, scrawled in messy chicken scratch, were song lyrics she’d been trying to put into motion. An accomplishment, she’d thought, to finally write in another language, but…

What’s the whole point of the stupid song if I can’t even sing it?

There were the silly voices, commonly demonstrated to no one but herself, in an empty house like a madman, that grew tired once she did, and far too painful. Especially when a few of them shredded her throat under normal circumstances. Those were gone fast.

She flicked a pen against her finger, staring down at the page, blood-stained and cinematic.

Softer songs had been okay for a while. The name Julieta Venegas had been bouncing around her head, though she hadn’t heard it in a while. Minimal force, which was the alternative for nothing.

I guess “a while” ran out…

Talking to yourself wasn’t fun anymore when you couldn't even get more than a sentence out.

Writing still works. I can write. Really, I should be writing. I mean, what does this even matter? I’ll hate it in a day or two anyway, might as well save my time.

She stood up and opened the door of the closet, sitting on the bed and opening a laptop.

Writing time…

There were about four works-in-progress she’d been neglecting in favor of one long project, that needed some attention.

And she got through about four good paragraphs before opening Tumblr “just to checksie-pooh” and then ended up scrolling through a blog she was particularly fond of.

Fricking Sor-chan, being so good at art.

It’d been a recent habit of hers to spend hours (y’know, totally just a quick little checksie-pooh-) scrolling through his blog, making EXTRA MUCH VERY CAREFUL CARE to not accidentally like one of the posts and possibly inform him of her doing so. And better yet…

HE MAKES SAIKECHI FANART aNd It’S FriCkEN AwESoMe-

Everytime she stumbled upon a new piece, or an old piece, her coughing flared up and so did the immense joy that made the stupid coughing worth it.

She’d saved at least half of them into her gallery, which was taking up much needed storage space, though she spared the sacrifice.

Ooh, a new post!

“sorry to anyone who followed me for saikechi, the torisai brainrot is hitting me rn”

…

No. No, it can’t be. Not the fricking Kuusuke kinnie being into Torisai. Why? Why did this happen? Why are all the good ones either taken or Kuusuke/Torisai enthusiasts…? Is it me? Do I simply have the love luck of Yumehara?!

She stared down at the screen in exasperation.

Any… older posts…?

There were over 30 posts, all featuring Torisai– some not being one-sided even. (Le gasp!)

Oh wow. He- He really… all the Torisai… and Kuusuke… and… and the worst part is…

The worst part is that they were good.

You know what, screw it, I’m going to the cafe.

Suddenly, her throat felt a little clearer.

********************

It’s 3 am… with no one at my side… it gets real cold… cause’ these blankets… will never warm my heart…

The door to the cafe slammed open.

What the…?

Sorkid paused the music to see disgruntled_twig run into the cafe and approach the counter, flailing her hands.

“You!”

“Me?!” he said, putting his hands up.

“Yes, you! What the hell?!”

…

“Me?!”

She sighed.

“Your fricking- ! The-the-the thing-! The- The drawing! You- You -”

“Whoa, slow down! What the heck are you saying?”

She took off her glasses and wiped them in her shirt.

“Was-was Kuusuke not enough for you-?! He- Already a Kuusuke kinnie, and then- and then you-”

“Huh?”

She groaned and stormed over to her usual chair.

“Fricking Torisai!”

Oooooooohhhhhhhh okay I get it now.

“Wait, so you saw my Torisai stuff…?”

Crap, that wasn’t part of the plan…

What plan?

“Maybe I did.”

“And did you like it?”

…

“...mayyyyyyybe I did-”

“But you’re still going to-”

“Oh, come on! Torisai? Really?” she said, turning around to face him.

Sorkid laughed.

“The meme potential is literally endless-”

“But you had stuff that wasn’t a meme!”

“Okay, perhaps it was, but still! You-”

“But Saikechi!” she cried, pleading with her hand gestures.

“Mmmm, but Torisai.”

“But Saikechi!”

“But Torisai…”

disgruntled_twig sighed.

“You’re going to make me cry.”

Sorkid perked up at this and ran behind the counter.

“Wait, what are you…?”

He pulled out the speaker.

“No.”

He pulled out his phone.

“Sor-chan-”

He scrolled through a playlist.

“Sor-chan, please! Have mercy on my soulllllllll-”

Wake up alone… In the morning… With no one by my siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide…

Sorkid laughed as disgruntled_twig coughed through tears and exasperated laughter.

*************************

Even through thirty minutes of painful music, the coffee was still worth the visit. The coffee, of course. Nothing else. At all.

No other reason.

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, fluffing up petals.

Oh, I better put in the ones from this time.

She dug through her pockets, feeling nothing but lint and a tiny paper boat that had been through several loads of laundry.

Huh, I could’ve sworn…

No petals in the other pocket either.

It’s… Maybe there weren't any…? This time…

She softly kicked her feet, allowing her mind to scream at her.

********************

Flowers…?

It was four in the afternoon, and Sorkid was cleaning up.

He’d been wiping down tables, and when reaching disgruntled_twig’s usual spot, he’d found a few blue flowers on the table.

He picked them up and felt the petals. They were soft, but sharp at the edges, without stems or leaves.

I’ll fix that…

He pulled stems out of the bottom of the flowers, one by one; a fantastical feat he wished someone was around to witness.

Did she leave them here on purpose..? Or… what?

He shrugged and placed them in his newly formed vase, 100%, grade-A, authentic thin air, and placed it on the counter.

Okay, now to-

…

What the hell…

He picked up her mug, tipping it over and nearly spilling-

Why the hell is there blood in this cup? Wait…

He swirled it around to see another flower, peeking out of the top of the pool. Blue and bright and exactly like the others.

Okay, this is getting weird…

He took the cup over to the counter and set it down next to a coffee pot filled with lukewarm coffee. He grabbed the petals and a dollop of whipped cream on a spoon of his own creation, and stirred it all into the pot.

“Oh mystical pot o’ mine, reveal what the heck this means… For how the gods have sent their holy wisdom to you, I need the answer to my inquiry… If you can grant me… Oh.”

Words formed in the foam.

Dude, shut up. What’s all that chanting crap…?

The foam shifted around again as he peered into the cup, still confused.

Anyway, it’s fucking hanahaki. Now go eat some carrots or something.

“Thank you, oh great coffee pot of wisdom,” he said, clapping his hands together and bowing. “I will chose to ignore your unnecessary language and rabbit slurs, and instead bask in your plentiful-”

DUDE. STFU NOWWWW HOLY-

The coffee pot shattered, spilling the concoction on the counter-tops, dripping to his apron and shoes.

“You are not a nice God Of The Holy Pot…”he mumbled, snapping his fingers and cleaning himself instantaneously.

Worth iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit…

So, the God Of The Holy Pot had told all…

Now what…?

A/N: EEEEEEEEEEE

We're getting some juicy plot development now! I'm so excited for the rest of this, since I've had it planned for weeks now, I think, but...

I DON'T WANT THIS FIC TO ENDDDD-

This is the first chapter fic I truly did not start hating or wanting to finish towards the end. Like, all the other ones, I got burned out or tired halfway through, or on the last few chapters, but this one has been so fun that I'm genuinely scared to finish it.

ONLY FIVE MORE CHAPTERS AHHHHHH-

I know it's still a lot, but still! *sighs* The next chapters are going to be... well, angsty, I guess. XD Prepare yourselves, if it even has that much of an impact at this point.

Thank you for reading! :)

[willyouhaveme]

thanks for the tag @talkfine I lveo you 💗

(I get quite rambly)

why did you choose your url?

Betty was the song that got me to listen to folklore on the first night it came out (my friend @lesbianspooner mentioned how xe had heard it was very gay) so i listened through the album and with what I was going through the song was actually very hashtag relatable . It's about making mistakes and being vulnerable and I think "willyouhaveme" just captures that v well

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

Yep! Just one tho! (I have 2 urls besides that one saved but don't use them at all it's just prev urls I've had) it's @katvantassel it's just so I can keep my main for music and primarily taylor :) I didn't plan on making a sideblog when I first joined but I love shipwrecked too much

how long have you been on tumblr?

i felt completly confused by it but wanted to be on here but I'm a fool so I stayed off until late January 2021

do you have a queue tag?

Yeah! #queue heard the rumorz from Inez (it keeps with the betty thing) my queue Is usually so small tho it only posts during the night

why did you start your blog in the first place?

To see my wife marya on tumblr (she seems very at home here) and for taylor swift ! The brutal honest truth is rebekah told me how she had a selfie liked from taylor swift and that was the final push but I didn't realise taylor had been off tumblr for nearly 6 months LOLLLLL it's still lovely tho

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

I'm just a sucker for babey taylor rn tbh and the top is v good debut colours

why did you choose your header?

It matched colours ! And once again fool vibes betty triangle

what’s your post with the most notes?

On main? A lyric parallel I did (the one with pages) on my sideblog I think it is either a textposts meme or another meme about how u meet s/o

how many followers do you have?

126 (wild ! Ilyall)

how many people do you follow?

224 (I should go on a follow spree soon tbh)

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

it might get me to read it but it isn't a garunte that I rb it. Those things just stress me out too much even if it is for good cause and I know others feel similar. When I learned that yknow ! U can just not rb it ! And still help or learn about it it was a lifesaver /hyp

do you like tag games?

Mhm!!! I'm not always the best at returning them because mobile stinks at copying the text sometimes and I must admit I perfer ones like this vs a long chain post but I do love them

do you like ask games?

Yeah!! I haven't really done any (I've done one on my sideblog) bc I usually don't get a response but they are v cute

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Oh man idk *tumblr* famous is a lot hm (I also lose track of my mutuals sometimes) (rip tumblr mobile) I think maybe @xcleanx and @reputationn are cool and tumblr famous B)

do you have a crush on a mutual?

Nope! I do think about some mutuals often <3 but I wouldn't say I have a crush on anyone I think I've been able to keep myself from having crushes on online pals

i’m gonna tag @thefuckingstory @silverrosie and @allylovestay (no preassure !/g)

[sammyblep]

i'd love to hear your thoughts on sam too!

thank youuuuu also sorry in advance this is gonna get so long--

(edit: also sorry about the formatting tumblr said fuck this post in particular)

How I feel about this character

sam is one of my most favorite characters of all time. the first time i watched spn i was an unapologetic dean girl (gnt) but now i am FULL sam girl (gnt.) This is a character who is told that the world is a dark and dangerous place and that no matter how hard he tries he’s going to become one of the monsters that inhabits it and makes it worse. he’s raised on the leash held by his father and in the shadow of his brother (a shadow that protected him) and he just wants to be able to love them both but they won’t let him. he wants to be able to love and nothing will let him!!! He wants to be able to experience the world in a way that isn’t blood and gunsmoke and pain and he just wants so desperately that he’s willing to rip himself away from what little he’s known to do it.

and the thing is, the world proves him right! he IS a monster. he lets the devil free, the people he loves die endlessly, he chooses a demon over his brother, he allows himself to become demonic for the sake of revenge, because that endless love he has was twisted against the world he wanted to love and used to wound it. and the fact is - it WAS his decision. it’s a decision he has to live with forever and deal with the consquences of. the world proves him right - zachariah’s voicemail, dean telling him to pick a hemisphere, the angels using dean to warn him off his demon blood path, the murder of an innocent woman to kill lilith (cindy I think) - those are all monstrous things.

and sam, after all that - when he realizes what his love has been used for, the hurt and irreversible damage its caused, he takes it back for himself. he realizes he was wrong, and he - the boy who wanted nothing more than to love the world and be loved by it in return - offers up his love to that same dark horrible world that he ruined further. and he does it with no expectations, just determination to make it right. that love overpowers the devil and destiny and the writing of god himself. the same way cas’s love for dean overwrote chuck’s writings in 4x22, sam’s endless love and belief that the world is worth fighting for averts the apocalypse.

this is a man who ruined the world, and willingly; and this is a man who saw what he did and ruined himself, wilingly, endlessly, because he believed in fixing his mistakes. because he believed there was still love and good in the world that tried to kill him over and over. because sam winchester wants nothing but to be free to love anything and everything, and to have even a sliver of that love returned to him.

basically: i love him. i love him so much. sam winchester THE character of all time for me. (him and ned chicane and merle highchurch but that’s another thing-)

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Eileen the love of my life Eileen Leahy!!! She’s badass and understanding and CHOSE to love Sam, and that’s truly what he needed and wanted more than anything else. She’s just - KAJDFNSKAJF i love eileen so so SO much and I think she and her wife Sam Leahy are head over heels in love. They love learning from each other and teaching each other and defending each other with the full knowledge that they can cover their own ass totally fine but that’s not the point the point is that they want to show their love and in their lifestyle this is a good way to do so. I think Sam is absolutely utterly disgustingly in love with Eileen and they want to constantly make that clear to the world and I think Eileen is completely wholly sickeningly in love with Sam and wants to make that clear to Sam. I think they’re neat and I think they’re perfect and I think they’re in love and I love them

Rowena - I haven’t seen a single episode with Rowena but i adore her energy and I think Sam being a sucker for the 600-yr-old queen of hell Rowena MacLeod is INCREDIBLE. Sam sees an incredibly powerful woman with knowledge and experiences beyond his understanding and says ‘is anyone gonna fall in love with her’ and doesn’t wait for an answer.

Gabriel! From the first time I saw Tall Tales I crackshipped him and sam, fun fact. I think there’s a LOT of complexity and nuance to any potential relationship of theirs (which is further complicated by any potential s-13 sabriel bait you wanna incorporate into your own personal good version (i haven’t seen it yet but love and light to y’all)) but I ALSO think too many people lose Gabriel’s characterization in order to make him palatable to Sam. And like no that’s not the point the POINT is they’re enemies-with-instant-tension to lovers! This is the ‘hedonist meets repressed man and they are instantly attracted but also hate each other and have to navigate that’ dynamic that I so rarely see done properly. However the MOST important part of Sabriel for me (as with any ship) is that it’s fun and DOES have a lot of cute potential. (Hedonistic-hugger Gabriel with touchstarved Sam my BELOVED)

Also Sabrieleena is fantastic I am a poly truther for a lot of things

Sarah Blake my first gay crush Sarah Blake... she deserved better and also she and Sam would have been a fantastic wlw relationship

I’m sure there’s more but I’ve forgotten them because it’s been ages since I saw past s5 and I frankly don’t remember much after the beginning of s6!

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I think he and Cas should have been best friends more. Also I *DO* wish we’d gotten a better Sam&Crowley dynamic but alas j*rpad couldn’t step up to the plate :/// fuckin coward

My unpopular opinion about this character

I’m both a Tall!Sam truther and a Tiny!Sam truther... I don’t think either of these concepts are unpopular but idk anyone else who loves them both like i do. Then again I also don’t know many people in spndom sfkjnjkfjaks

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

WE SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN TO SEE SAM HAVING A HORRIBLE BREAKDOWN AT SOME POINT. I HAVE OPINIONS ON WHEN AND WHERE BUT THIS MAN MADE OF LOVE FEELS EMOTIONAL PAIN SO HARD AND WHEN THE LOVE HE’S FILLED WITH IS TURNED AGAINST HIM I SIMPLY THINK HE WOULD HAVE LOST IT.

this is technically not him butttt I wish Max Miller had lived so he and Sam could have been best friends (I have s1e14 Nightmare derangement syndrome)

ok i know this said ONE thing but also like you said and like i said in the tags of your response for sam. HE SHOULD HAVE KEPT HIS POWERS.

(send me a character and I’ll break their asses down)

[asd-n-me]

so I’ve been trying to figure out what disorder I have for years and recently I learned about autism. (I think it’s grossly over stereotyped because I thought it was weird until I looked it up) and it describes me for the most part. I stim when happy like the flapping. I have sensitivity to textures. Executive dysfunction is very real. I get distracted easily and motivation is so hard to come by. I have small routines rather then large ones. Your account has been really helpful in this process

Pt2 but I’m nervous that I’m just trying to fit a box.Like my social skills are horrible but I speak and understand sarcasm. I don’t get sensory overloaded but i hyperfixate on things. I have a special interest(s) on weird things but I also like things in the “normal way” I stim a lot and have weird mood fluctuations that I try to keep down so no one asks or sets me off.But I’m almost 18 and there should have been a earlier signs?Idk do you think it’s possible Or am I just trying too hard to fit

I am sorry my response is a little late, I’ve been having technical troubles but I am back. 

Friend, I am so glad that you find my account helpful because that is always my goal. 

I have always disliked people asking these things in asks, just because I know the typing is limited so it’s hard to describe all your experiences in 500 spaces or less. 

Hyperfixation, executive dysfunction, distractability, mood fluctuation, and some stimming and sensitivities can be seen in our ADHD cousins. I’m sure you are aware of that already. 

1.That being said, if you’re just discovering your autistic traits recently I am sure you are missing earlier signs that you haven’t even put together yet. That doesn’t mean they aren’t there. 

Not to mention the fact that, “high-functioning” considered individuals tend to be able to somewhat handle things in their youth, but start breaking down as they excel in age. 

2. You do not have to have sensory overloads to be autistic. Many autistics are adept at self-regulation and can for the most part avoid overload. 

But I hope you realize you do not have to meltdown or shutdown to be in overload. If a sound or texture or anything else sensory related has ever had you afraid you might yell at someone, scream into the abyss, or had you white knuckling the table or breaking a pencil or ripping paper to keep your cool etc. than you have suffered the effects of sensory overwhelming you. 

If the last thought in your head is, “how did i manage to not lose my shit?” It’s because you were being overwhelmed. 

3. No need to differentiate between little and small routines, if you’ve been on my blog you know I am a big supporter of people who experience small routines. You are no less. 

4. Plenty of autistics understand sarcasm and use it frequently. It doesn’t somehow disqualify you despite what certain Neurotyicals think. Late diagnosis autistics often manage certain aspects of socializing with their deficiencies written off as being awkward or quirky. 

Something to think about as well. A. did you always understand sarcasm? B. how much sarcasm do you not realize you are missing? 

I live in a sarcastic household, we use sarcasm constantly, but there are still times I don’t realize someone is being sarcastic and no one explains it. I have felt very proficient in sarcasm my whole life, but I was quite surprised to find out how much I was still missing. Not saying that’s your story, but it is something to think about. 

5. Now that I’ve been talking forever, sorry for that, there are always some earlier signs of autism because it is a lifetime disorder, however that doesn’t mean people around you or even yourself will notice them. 

Don’t stop looking into autism. If it resonates with you look deeper. When I first read about autism I didn’t think it was me at all. You’d think that would be ridiculous and that I should have seen myself immediately but I didn’t. It wasn’t fancy articles and informational videos that helped me see it either, although they helped, it was through the experiences of other autistic POV. 

I can post somethings about recognizing earlier signs or autism soon, I would recommend for now watching the video I posted about being a teenage aspie, neurowonderful and invisible I are good youtubes for learning about autism. Neurowonderful is more informative and invisible I is a little less accurate but fairly relatable. 

A good blog to look into on tumblr is asdmemory tagged #ASDmemory because they talk a lot about childhood autistic memories. undiagnosedautismfeels is off track of its real intentions, which I know drives the admin nuts, but has stories of before they knew they were autistic. 

Save the things that resonate with you, write em in a book, whatever you want. I wish you well in your journey to self discovery and no friend, I don’t think your are just trying to fit it. I think you are trying discover who you are. <3

(if you still have questions feel free to hit the ask box again i will answer, if you’d like to talk more please don’t be afraid to send me a message. if you still prefer asks because of the anon feature than don’t be afraid to spam me with like 5 in a row. whatever helps you feel like you explained yourself. dont be afraid to ask the same question either if you didnt feel i answered it as it was intended.)

Have a great day! 

[captain-of-the-historicfuture]

~hello~ !! For the meta asks!: 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21, 24, and 25 :))

Hello!! Thank you for sending these; I was really excited to see that ask game and I was hoping somebody would send some in. It still took me a while to actually answer them though, and for that I apologise. But without further ado! Some meta answers (under the cut because they ended up being fairly long, whoops):

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (Consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway.)

I thought of a few examples, but they could basically be grouped together under a common theme: whumpy/angsty scenes that were self-indulgent as all heck. The whole self-indulgent aspect often required the characters to be just the teeniest, tiniest bit OOC and/or necessitated rather unrealistic plot circumstances. So it was simply easier to keep such scenes as maladaptive daydreams, rather than trying to think of explanations for the character/plot issues…or exposing myself to judgement for them LOL.

Receiving permission to write/share one such scene anyway is an opportunity I can’t let slip by though. It might be because I’m writing this while running on zero (0) hours of sleep—let’s hear it for insomnia, y’all!—but I suddenly couldn’t remember any of my newer ideas under this category. However, I did recall a one-shot I had started writing a couple of months ago that sort of counts? “Sort of” because I could actually be arsed to write it since I was, ya know, writing it. Only got about six hundred words down though.

…should I share those six hundred words…?

………nahhh. I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet.

But here’s the gist of it: Coulson and May (because of course it’s Philinda) were married for quite some time before the Attack on New York. But then Coulson DiedTM and then got ResurrectedTM. But gasp of horror, he had to lose his memories of his romantic relationship with May because reasons. (I actually did have some ideas for those reasons but sshhhh this is about me yeeting context and setup.)

The first half of S1 still happens as normal (except MayWard doesn’t happen because??? Vows) and it’s now post-E20 “Nothing Personal”. The morning after (or a morning soon after, whatever) the T.A.H.I.T.I. reveal! May’s mom—who doesn’t know about GH.325 and whom May fed a cover story about Coulson divorcing her or something equally as oof, IDK—shows up at the hotel and starts ripping into Coulson for breaking her daughter’s heart, then dragging her back into the field with her ex-husband (him), then accusing her of terrible things and forcing her away again.

Poor guy’s confused as heck, and so is the team, and soon enough so is Lian. The only one who understands what’s going on is May, and she’s freaking dying off to the side like why is this happening to me and eventually everybody’s like! Explain??? (Was thinking about including something from Coulson like, “Are you still keeping things from me?” Just for that extra smidge of angst, yay!)

So yeah then May gives a, like, two-sentence debriefing that elicits more questions than answers. Coulson decides to take May aside and they have a heart-to-heart. Lots of feelings and angst and hurt/comfort and at some point plenty of kissing too. Just! May hiding her feelings for Coulson’s sake but really magnified, plus some actual apologies and consideration of the grief May’s been through on Coulson’s part.

And uhh yeah that’s basically it I dunno hdsjncjshd. I warned y’all it’s OOC, plot-bendy, and very self-indulgent!

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

I don’t think I could name a single character for this. I get different things out of taking on different voices, you know? I guess recently I’ve found myself gravitating towards more taciturn and introspective points of view, like JQ from my original novel Rosewood or M. Yisbon from my…other original novel Temple.

Generally, however, I like tackling stories from an outsider’s perspective. That’s why I so rarely write my more “substantial” (serious? demanding? for lack of better words?) projects from the PoV of my “preferred” character. This usually means writing from their love interest’s perspective, but not always. With shorter fanfic, using a more removed/unconventional/niche PoV can be really fun. Like, I once wrote a canon compliant ficlet purely(-ish) about Philinda from Tony Stark’s perspective. That isn’t always sustainable with stories that demand more character development or closer character studies, however, which is why it’s a good thing I like writing drabbles!

9. Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

My word counts tend to run long, but I usually only write one-shots for fanfic. If I’m even inspired with a novella- or novel-length story idea for a fandom, you already know I’m in deep with them. And if I actually find the motivation to plan and execute that idea? Dangg. That’s only ever happened…twice, maybe thrice, and I’m in a lot of fandoms.

At times, I wish I could go for more of a middle ground ’cause, like, you know what I love to see? An AO3 dashboard with several completed novellas for my ship/character of choice. I mean yes, I hecking love >90k fics, but sometimes I’m in the mood for quick reads…and what am I supposed to do when I burn through all the drabbles and 2k one-shots? (Besides despair and/or reread my faves desperately.) Novellas are basically always safe for me LOL, and I’d hope to be able to give as much as I take.

Ultimately though, I think I’m okay with where I am with regards to that. I wish I could write more in general, but I’d be okay with “writing more” just meaning “writing more one-shots”, ya know? More than okay, really. I have mad respect for fic writers who have, like, a hundred or more one-shots under their belt for this one ship. The fandom ecosystem would be incomplete without them (as well as every other type of writer, but sshhh that’s the type of writer I’m closest to being right now).

I’m definitely a plotter, and I definitely prefer it that way. It’s cool having such a detailed record of my process. I like feeling like a frazzled genius on the brink of a major discovery with all of my different outlines and colour coding and many drafts and various websites.

12. Do you want your writing to be famous?

Not exactly. It might be cool if my original works were recognisable in the world, but I don’t think I’d want to be recognisable. As for fanfic, I’d low-key enjoy gaining a place in that fandom’s community as a fic writer. Like someone who gave and got fic gifts from fic writer friends, who participated in challenges and GCs, who received writing prompts on Tumblr, whose name was known for doing a certain trope/genre a bunch of times… Ya know what I mean?

Unlikely to happen when I’m so hecking hesitant to publicly (i.e., outside of AO3) claim credit for my writing, but fjnskfsjhfjs. A writer can dream, right?

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Of those three, tags are the easiest for me, for I have a reliable system for figuring out those.

Next easiest would probably be titles. For fanfiction, I like to use titles that are a quote from the source material. You should have seen all of my old Hamilton fanfic… I was really proud of some of those titles. And I don’t mean, like, whole lines—usually only two to five words. It’s a unique type of wordplay that I just love dabbling in.

And lastly, summaries. Sometimes inspiration strikes me and a snappy and intriguing synopsis just jumps out—one that I’m quietly pleased with—but most of the time I’ll spend way too long trying to think of such a synopsis and eventually just go with whatever I’d come up with so far. And live with my quiet dissatisfaction for the rest of time.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (Plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations...?) Tell us about them!

Typically, no. If I have deleted scenes, I save and publish them separately, but that’s about it. I sometimes think of AUs for my own work and might talk about them in my author’s notes—might even talk about writing them—but I never really do anything with them.

Although…

It’s not uncommon for me to decide a plotline isn’t working for a certain story or to think of an interesting but undoable arc for a certain character, but what I’ll do is make a whole new story for those ideas. Once I’m done developing the original idea and the branched-off one, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell they grew from the same roots. Does that count?

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as (film, webcomic, animated series, etc.)?

That depends on the story. I’ve actually written stories in other mediums—movie screenplay, musical stageplay, poetry, TV show scripts, play scripts, roleplay—but the novel does tend to be my comfort zone. Sometimes, if I have an idea that I think could work, or would even work better, as another medium, I’ll label it as such in my folder of ideas and decide not to write it as a novel.

Most of the time, my non-book projects are collaborations. I’m working with five different people on six different story ideas: two webcomics, one stage musical, one anime, and two animated TV shows. Little concrete progress has been made in any of those, mind you, but they’re still fun to discuss!

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Absolutely. But I’ve been writing stories since I was five years old, so we would hope so, huh?

I wouldn’t say my writing’s changed completely, though maybe that’s just my insider’s perspective.

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

Oh gosh, I can’t believe you’d make me choose. Writing is just such a wonderful experience for me; I love just about everything to do with it. Admittedly, not all the time, but. Since that barely qualifies as an answer, however, I’ll give you this—

The endings. Not only that intense feeling of rightness when you wrap up that last sentence, but also the moments before. The adrenaline of knowing you’re almost there but you gotta push just a bit more to actually get there. And also the part right after—the real wrap-up, honestly: the revision and the editing. Heavens, I love revising and editing my work.

Which is not to say I don’t like writing it out for the first time, too—there’s nothing quite like seeing your cursor scroll to the next page, like going from a blank expanse to a Oh man, how many more lines are even going to fit on this page?, like watching that page counter tick up another number. However, there’s something cathartic about finally ironing out those problems I had to force myself to stop worrying about earlier because “just finish the first draft dangit”.

I guess that’s not really the end of the writing process, but whatever. Close enough (as fic writers are wont to say).

Another thank-you for these asks, and feel free to come back with more at any time! ;P

Send in fun meta asks for your friendly neighbourhood writer!

[the-golden-ghost]

I’m bored and so I’m gonna make one of those “rip off some Youtuber’s hard-made list with my own BS opinions” posts. This is Tumblr and it won’t show in the tags anyway and hell I’m giving credit so it’s fine.

Today I will be going through a Blast From the Past and looking at a list of Dark n’ Scary Disney Moments. Made by WatchMojo here. 

Anyway

20. Tadashi Dies - Big Hero 6: I never saw this movie but it looks like your pretty standard Disney death where there’s like an intense-but-not-too-graphic thing and then a hard cut to a funeral. Would probably be sadder if I had actually seen the movie but I agree, it’s pretty fucked up!

19. The Firebird - Fantasia 2000: OKAY YEAH THIS SCARED THE EVERLOVING FUCK OUT OF ME AS A KID. I saw this movie when I was 5 years old and it was one of the first (maybe THE first!?) movies I ever saw in theaters. That jumpscare still haunts me, man. 

18. The Ghost of Christmas Future - Mickey’s Christmas Carol: I loved this movie as a kid but I wasn’t really scared by it even then. That being said, it’s still a pretty creepy scene, but I’ve seen scarier versions of this, even in kid’s movies. The fact that the ghost was smoking a fucking CIGAR had me cackling though I mean -

17. Hellfire - The Hunchback of Notre Dame: This whole damn MOVIE was dark. But that’s what you get when you adapt Victor Hugo for kids, I guess (seriously, why though!?) I definitely like this movie more as an adult, mostly cause half the themes went over my head as a kid. Including the ones in this song. But DAMN is it a bop and the visuals are stunning. 

16. The Headless Horseman - The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad: Yeah I never saw this as a kid to my knowledge but... I’ll be honest, that’s pretty scary even watching it NOW as an adult. Damn.

15. Facilier Goes to Hell - The Princess and the Frog: Yeah that’s pretty terrifying too. I was a teenager when this came out so it didn’t creep me out that much but the music is eerie and the visuals and concept of being dragged into eternal damnation is... unsettling, to say the least! Would have terrified me as a kid I’m sure

14. Frollo Attempts to Onscreen Murder a Fucking Baby - The Hunchback of Notre Dame: How in the HELL was this given a G rating?! This was in the first ten minutes of the movie by the way. Also there IS an onscreen death - Quasimodo’s mom, a minute or two before this. Disney doesn’t usually do onscreen deaths so that’s... pretty intense, to say the least. But seriously. Yikes. 

13. Night on Bald Mountain - Fantasia: Okay purely out of personal experience I found Firebird scarier, but had I seen this one in theaters as a kid I no doubt would have shit myself. Also this is one of Disney’s only exploits into showing topless women (besides the Rescuers blink-and-you’ll-miss-it thing). Nudity in a good wholesome G-rated Disney film?! It’s more likely than you think.

12. The Horned King’s Army - The Black Cauldron: Because nothing says Disney Magic like necromancy-induced zombies sent to destroy the Earth (or something, I don’t even remember what their goal was since I saw this when I was like six but still, it is indeed creepy as all fuck)

11. Maleficent Turns Into A Dragon - Sleeping Beauty: Yeah I gotta say this dragon is daunting. See, Disney, you DO know how to design a good dragon! Maybe you should take a page from your own book instead of just creating Elsa’s dragonsona?

10. The Burnt Village - Mulan: Other than the whole “Bambi’s Mom Dies and Then It’s Immediately Happy Springtime Yay” thing, this might be the biggest tone switch in a Disney movie. But this one’s on purpose and not silly, it’s... intense. Jarring. Disturbing. We go from “goofy marching song about picking up girls lol” to the complete decimation and murder of a whole village and everyone in it. Including children, as is made horribly clear...

9. Aurora Gets Hypnotized - Sleeping Beauty: I don’t even remember this scene at all. The fact that Sleeping Beauty made the list twice makes me want to go watch it again though, seems promising!

8. The Bear - The Fox and the Hound: This movie was immensely fucked up to be honest. Just... everything about it. But yeah the bear was pretty scary ngl

7. Big Ursula - The Little Mermaid: Yeesh. Okay yeah Big Ursula was pretty freaky. Definitely gave me the creeps as a kid. Also the way she dies from getting IMPALED is um... a little dark, perhaps? Just a bit?

6. Pink Elephants - Dumbo: This isn’t exactly creepy, at least not as far as I can see, mostly it looks like they just needed to pad the film out so they decided to uh... put a drug trip scene in. Dumbo is already really short so it would make sense they needed to up the runtime and just told the animators “go ham” and BOY DID THEY EVER

5. The Dip - Who Framed Roger Rabbit: Uh yeah you’d think “death by torture” would be a place Disney wouldn’t go but I guess they’re fine with it actually? Granted this was live-action mostly but... still. Come on. That’s just fucked up.

4. Clayton Dies - Tarzan: I mean they didn’t show it like... really show it but the quick shot of his shadow on the tree is uh. Yikes. I actually missed that detail as a kid but I’m glad I did cause I would have been creeped out!

3. Lampwick Turns Into a Donkey - Pinocchio: Okay see I kinda want to know how THIS movie got rated G as well considering the underage drinking and weird sexual references. But this scene is also uh... disturbing. And actually the whole concept of the “turning kids into donkeys and selling them into eternal slavery” thing is wild and... yeah HOW was this movie rated G again? I know the book was written by some weirdo who wanted to terrify kids into good behavior. Idk why they made a Disney film out of it.

2. Bambi’s Mom Dies - Bambi: I actually don’t remember this scene all that much cause I haven’t seen Bambi in ages. But I know it’s iconic. It comes off as more sad than dark, though, but I guess “sad” kinda ties in with dark so I’ll let it slide.

1. Mufasa Gets Murdered - The Lion King: Okay yeah that’s pretty messed up I’ll admit it. I know it’s Furry Hamlet but let’s be honest we all saw this WAY before we knew what Hamlet was. I sometimes think the Lion King is a bit overrated but I have to admit - the visuals in this scene are AMAZINGLY good.

[sarkywoman]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by: @spikeymarshmallows​ (find her version of this here) Name: sarkywoman, sometimes people just say sarky.  Fandom(s): At the moment, The Umbrella Academy is my dominant one. I rarely ever give up on one entirely though, as can be seen by some of my recent Destiel reblogs. (I’m also excited for some of the upcoming Marvel content. Okay, I say ‘some’, I just mean Mackie’s Captain America really XD) Where you post: Archive of our Own , though I still need to upload a lot of my older work that was posted on livejournal. I often post a link here on tumblr when I write something new, but not always. Most Popular One Shot (by kudos): ‘Noble Blood’, which just proves you should always chase your bliss, as it was an utterly indulgent vampire AU written as a gift for my then-gf in A Song of Ice and Fire fandom. Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos): Eek, an unfinished WIP not updated since May 2014! D: Sorry people. ‘A Song of Bastards and Wards’, with Joanna Snow instead of Jon Snow. I think these fics have more kudos because the ASOIAF fandom was so big, rather than due to quality relative to my other work. Favorite story you’ve written so far: Ooof. I have been writing for a long time, this is such a tricky question! It would probably be easier to just split all my fic into two categories: fun to write vs not-fun to write. I like to be experimental, so fics like Story and Sorcery for Loki or The Aimless One for Misfits or The Price Of Parenthood for Umbrella Academy let me try new things, but I notice my mind does tend to go to a particular Tales from the Borderlands fic, Young God. I wrote it in a fit of inspiration for a friend one evening and it encapsulated what I wanted from the Jack/Rhys dynamic more than anything I wrote for them since, I think. I was also happy with some of the imagery and how I managed to maintain and build on the tone throughout. Only 4k words, doesn’t overextend, but I enjoyed writing it. It flowed very well. Fic you were nervous to post: Krystalline. Not due to its quality, just... I know what this fandom’s like when it comes to pairings. I write fic for myself and my friends and this was for a friend. I originally sent it to her privately but it seemed weirder to hide it than to post it. It’s good writing, if I may be so bold. Other than that, I get nervous posting final chapters on multi-chapter fic. I don’t want to let down people who’ve invested time in it! How do you choose your titles?: Varies. I’ll often use song lyrics. I often write to appropriate music and a line will jump out at me. Otherwise, it will just be a fitting phrase, like The Weak Link for an AU fic where Klaus is led to believe he’s too weak to have powers. Do you outline?: Not often, but if it’s a multichapter fic, more frequently these days I will, to avoid WIPs that dwindle into nothing because I don’t write as quickly as I used to. How I go about it varies. Sometimes it’s just a list of stuff I want to happen that I vaguely order, sometimes it’s a scene-by-scene adaptation, like the aforementioned Weak Link AU or Song of Bastards and Wards. Those involved noting scenes from the show/book and figuring out how they would change with the new circumstances. Complete: 

Waheyyy... *dabs or something, idk* I have... oooh a lot more that needs uploading to AO3 but it’s a case of finding the time to reread old work so that I can tag it properly. With all that’s been happening lately I checked my SPN folder and found to my alarm that I wrote over a hundred stories that I saved while I was in the fandom, but only 5 of those are on my AO3. I did some for Marvel that aren’t cross-posted either, a bunch for NCIS... once we start going back more than ten years the quality is a bit cringy though.  In-Progress: Uh... I don’t want to give up on any of my WIPs officially but the only one I can actually say I’m actively working on is a Kliego AU for my Bad Things Happen Bingo. Diego is a detective, but I promise I’m not ripping off @spikeymarshmallows​‘ ‘City Two-Four’! Mine’s more of a noir. It’s for the ‘Paranoia’ square and Diego has bad paranoia, but it might be justified given he’s investigating the Commission crime syndicate after the kidnapping of Allison’s daughter Claire and after they’ve destroyed at least two of his loved ones. Not a happy fic but hopefully not too painful either. (I like to sit in that middle ground where readers go “Oh no! Awww... Oh thank god.”) Maybe when I watch the new Loki series I’ll be motivated to go back to my Cap/Loki AU fic, It is Not Fantasy... Coming soon/not yet started: I really should write more original stuff at some point if I want to be a novelist... but I’m very much enjoying bad things happen bingo, will carry on doing gen or shippy fics for that in UA fandom Prompts?: Can do. Have done in the past. Only issue is when people really misjudge what I’m into, lol. Or they give a ‘prompt’ so thorough it’s more like a sparknotes guide. Upcoming work you’re most excited about: I’ve been working on my ‘Paranoir’ (working title) for a while now. Mental health has led to a bit of a hiatus on my writing, reading... and my entire life. But it’s so nearly finished. Paranoir, I mean. I just need to write an eensy bit more Allison and figure out how to organise all the bits I’ve done. 

I tag anyone who wants to give this a go :)

[maagicmiss]

time: Around 3.50am 💀

height: 167cm ? I feel quite self conscious on my height so I try to not *know* it or else I know i’d think about it all the time aha

gender: Mischief

birthday: may 16th !

star-sign: Taurus ♉

followers: 577 beautiful idiots, love you guys 🤡

following: 250 ? I’ve been around for a long time and I still follows dramione blogs lmfao

last show: Hunters (TV series) I cry everytime it’s so good even if the last plot twist in Argentina leave me bitter 

dream job: Animated TV show director ! 

last movie: Ahh prolly a random french one while watching TV with my mother ? 

dream trip: Road trip with my friends around Europe 🗺

nationality: Frenchy french born and raised (some Pole heritage though smh)

other blogs: @magicmiss lol and some others that I never went far with 

instruments: I’ve played trumpet and hated it, piano and loved it but had to drop out because of Solfege ? I hated learning notes and all 

do i get asks: Never enough 

favorite food: I don’t have a ‘favorite’ tbh 

favorite song: Recently fall in love with this but eh, it varies a lot 

lucky number: I don’t have one 

last book read: I’m illiterate sorry. I knew how to read in a past life tho

what do i post: Shitpost and sometime pretty drawings 🤡 On Magicmiss It’s full pretty angsty drawing lol

name/nickname: I dislike nicknames that shorten my name ? I’m lowkey trying to make people call me by my surname cuz it’s fucking amazing but it’s also my father ‘nickname’ so i’m feeling conflicted 💀  

last thing googled: Paris’ metro map in the 50′s aaahhh 💀💀

what am i wearing: I’m a disgusting lil gremlin that didn’t take off her pajama all day long smh (sweat pants and a tank top) 

favourite solo artist: No ideas to be honest 

song stuck in my head: Ok so I have such a bad rythmic that I just can’t memorize tunes. I could hear my favorite song on repeat for hours and still be unable to *hear* it ? I just have the Birthday song tune and the first verse of La Marseillaise in mind but like.... the Wish version lmfaoo 

favourite bands/groups: None 💀💀 I just listen to whatever the hell youtube recommend me 

average hours of sleep: I slept like 15h this week 

why did i choose this url: It sounded good idk 

when did i create this blog: Dramione fanfic and to have the Tumblr Experience the screenshots on Pinterest depicted 😔😔 I was let down on that last one ngl 

three fictional universes you’d like to live in: 1) Prolly Harry Potter too for old time’s sake but with my luck I’d be a muggle smh 2) The MCU painted a very fun world and I’d like to live in it. At least so I could meet Daredevil 🥺 and uh is anywhere BUT SNK answer ? x)

This is a veerryyy long tag and I’m sorry to whoever will scroll past it aha :’)

I’ll just tag @regulusrain and @reversedthoughts (rip to u) 

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Half Of You: Jimin One Shot

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

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

Word Count: 15.8k

Pairing: Jimin x (gender neutral) Reader

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

Genre: Fluff and angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of alcohol

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

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

- Mercury

You’re not sure why you agreed to this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that and a sinfully handsome face.

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

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

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

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

This is new.

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

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

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

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

Have you always had such a strong grip?

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

If you reach the bottom.

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

Oh God.

You’re gonna throw up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you say, shutting your eyes.

One.

You’re gonna do it.

Two.

On ten, you’re just gonna go.

Three.

It’ll be fine.

Four.

Joon did it, and he’s fine.

Five.

And Tae before him, and that guy Jimin brought.

Six.

Nobody’s died yet.

Seven.

You can do it too.

Eight.

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

Nine.

Jimin’s right behind you.

Ten.

Your scream rips through the valley below.

And, seconds later, so does your unfettered laughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were definitely going to need another drink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scumbag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’d gotten you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had it all.

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

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

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

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

You raise your brows. “Hm?”

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

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

“What about it?”

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

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

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

He pouts a little. “You weren’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, perhaps more unsettlingly, you are…

Surprisingly calm.

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

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

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

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

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

Smiling you reply, “Me either.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why does it make you want to cry?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reckless.

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

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

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

Fear, perhaps, of the implications.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One.

You’re getting on this fucking ATV.

Two.

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

Three.

You always chicken out.

Four.

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

Five.

Well...yesterday.

Six.

Before that though.

Seven.

When was the last time you took a risk?

Eight.

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

Nine.

Something you really wanted…

Ten.

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

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

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

And you know you’re cooked.

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

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

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

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

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

Just like that, he understands exactly how you feel.

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

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

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

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

You grip the handlebars and kick the ATV to life.

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

Another excuse to avoid going home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the scolding had never been enough.

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

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

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

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

Fear of fucking up.

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

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

It’s your own.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grin. “God forbid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your heart settles down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That slumbering part of you is beginning to awaken.

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

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

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

Because Jimin’s hand is warm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did!”

“Wasn’t it--?!”

“It was!”

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

He laughs. “Yeah!”

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

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

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

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

And it’s honest.

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

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

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

Only they aren’t holding hands.

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

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

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

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

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

Or perhaps he’s mad at you.

Your heart sinks.

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

But what could you have done?

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

Well…you used to.

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

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

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

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

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

Not that you like him or anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes alight and you grin. “Really?”

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so is the one who held your hand underwater.

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

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

It’s never different.

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

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

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

But it’s still dangerous.

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

And so you’re boycotting him too.

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

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

You two may as well have been siblings, anyway.

Had Jimin been that close to you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh. “Mhm!”

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

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

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

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

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

Well…

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

Excitement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How does he know about the painting?

Namjoon…

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

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

Just like before.

He laughs. “Trying?”

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

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

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

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

Not at all.

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

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

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

Maybe you are crazy.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

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

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

You told him you didn’t care.

And he didn’t tell you anything more.

You kind of wish he would have.

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

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

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

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

You might cry again just looking at it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And this is the moment.

The moment you finally snap.

And when it happens, it does hurt. Bad.

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

And he’s staring at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did what?”

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

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

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

“Is it because we’re leaving soon?”

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

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

You blink at him. “We aren’t what?”

“We aren’t anything.”

“Who says?”

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

You shake your head. “Good friends.”

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

Well…

There is one thing.

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

This one thing…

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

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

One.

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

Two.

Your heart is racing.

Three.

Your palms are itchy in the sand.

Four.

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

Five.

Hanseul never looked at you like that.

Six.

Nobody ever looked at you like that.

Seven.

He’s red, his whole face.

Eight.

You’re shaking.

Nine.

Don’t you want to paint it?

Ten.

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

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

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

And so you do.

Again.

And again.

And one more time for good measure.

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

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

[izzy-b-hands]

20-30!

Thank you so much for asking!!!!

20. Favorite character to write?

Already answered, but I don’t mind re-answering cuz I thought maybe I’d narrow my three way tie, but alas, no lol. Still a tie between Ahkmenrah, Snafu, and Skwisgaar.

21. Least favorite character to write? 

Ooh-tbh, Larry from NATM just because I feel like I always make him an asshole? Like, I haven’t published all my fic ideas for NATM because I keep making him really mean? And in some it works but in others I’m like ‘jesus chill Lee he’s just a Dude trying his best’ but also at the same time I feel the way Stiller played him and his character arc means he’s got some major ego to him as the films go on? Idk that isn’t a hot take or anything just me being frustrated with Ben Stiller lol

22. Favorite story you’ve ever written? 

Hard choice, because I love all my kids, but I cried after writing this one lol: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

It hit some personal stuff for me, so to be able to have it work organically in a fic so I could also like, mini therapy session myself? Cool af. Also, ppl seemed to like this a lot too, and while that validation isn’t the only reason I write, it’s always cool when my writing makes ppl happy. 

23. Least favorite story you’ve ever written? 

I don’t really have a least favorite, but I do have some I’m more frustrated with, due to how long they took me to write, etc. Currently? The answer to this is my Mark the Date series because A. it is taking me a day and an age to finish it and B. I feel like it kinda flopped, so it’s hard to pull up any energy to finish it, but like...I may as well now lol. I’ll get it done eventually.

24. Favorite scene you’ve written? 

Oh god tbh I have too many I love just cuz like

I can go back to how I felt writing them and yeah

But as of most recent fics, I really this bit: 

-Snafu patted the blanket near his head, and waited for Eugene to put out his pipe and lay back beside him before snuggling close to him. “You could be right. Could be God. Could just be love.” “How’s that?” “I think love has its own way. Even before you meet someone, even before you know you’re fallin’ for ‘em. Love’s just…out there, like the air or somethin’. Finds you when the time is right, and finds who you click with. You gotta do the rest, the stayin’ in love part, but that bringing together, that first spark…that’s love just existing, and doin’ what it needs to so the world keeps spinnin’, so people make it through tough shit,” Snafu replied. “I like that,” Eugene said. “Think love did a good job with us. Makin’ sure we found each other.” Snafu pressed a kiss softly to the corner of Eugene’s mouth. “Sure did. Wouldn’t ever want to be with anyone else. I don’t even know what that looks like, and I don’t want to.” “Same here,” Eugene’s mouth was warm as he kissed him back. “Here’s to love for making sure you found me.” -

from this fic: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186926226531/absolution-is-the-taste-of-your-lips

Because I’m sappy af more than I let on, and also this was a chance to like, write out my own feelings via Snafu. And that was a pretty cool and fulfilling thing for me, ya know? 

25. Favorite line you’ve ever written? 

oh god this is another hard one to narrow down but

I always come back to this line and go ‘oh shit did I really write that. Nah, someone better than me at this had to have. They briefly possessed me or something”:  

-Music and talking and shouting and footsteps collide kaleidoscopic in his ears, but none bearing the one sound that he’d run to if he heard it.-

from this fic, mentioned twice now in this post lol: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

I really love alliteration, and for me this line just sums up how it feels to walk thru a city when you aren’t just wandering really, but are looking or waiting for someone, and have that awful yet sometimes good feeling of expecting to hear or see them but it feels like you’re waiting or searching forever and in the meantime the city just lives on around you, a stopped platelet stuck in a vein full of vitality. Like, idk if it hit any of my readers that way, but that’s what I was trying to get across lol, so the line always hits me hard in a good way when I scroll thru my writing tag and see it. 

26. Story you’re most proud of? 

Gosh

I gotta choose just one kid for this aldsfkja I’m bad at choosing I love my gaggle of ragtag goofballs. I have an original piece I’d choose for this, but I’ve never posted it on here, so I’m gonna choose out of my fanfic on here instead.

One I am really proud of is this one: https://aboutthatmelancholystorm.tumblr.com/post/186781309036/you-know-that-i-love-you

and I know it’s the third time it’s been part of an answer on here but

I really love this one idk. Thinking back to how I felt while writing it, how it all flowed in a certain way. The whole experience was just something else, and I’m proud of this one in a certain way I find myself, funnily enough, unable to describe. 

27. Best review you ever got? 

Okay this sounds cheesy but like

I really do love and appreciate every review or review-like thing I’ve ever gotten so I can’t choose just one for this

Like, y’all gotta understand, I’ve deleted some of it and erased traces of it from my blog, but I’ve written for years on here, I have some stuff on my ao3, and for the longest time I got nothing back, or very nearly nothing. Maybe a few likes, but no comments and not much else. I always just rolled with it and assumed I just wasn’t writing anything good enough to inspire reviews. Idk if that’s true or not, but in any case it means I cherish every comment, like, reblog, and anything review-like in nature because I’m so grateful to have it now, and I know it could well be pure luck that I stumbled up on a really supportive bunch of fandoms with great readers. 

In other words, thank y’all for every kind word and like and reblog and also I may be an immortal feeding off of validation of my art, but we’ll see on that last bit, because I haven’t tested it. 

28. Worst review you ever got?

One from middle school. I’d just finished my very first novel, gave it to a friend to read, and he said it ‘smacked of being too fanciful and childish, something only kids and women would read’ (it was a YA fantasy novel so I mean... what exactly he expected, idk cuz he knew what it was before I gave it to him, like it’s supposed to have those elements as a lot of these sorts of novels/stories do, and that isn’t a bad thing about them at all, so like...what his damage was idek.)

Also this is the same dude who texts me randomly and is really weird abt his friendship with me and happens to be an English teacher now (RIP to his students.) 

Anyway, after he said that I tossed a review right back, because well, middle school and also I was very upset with him because I’d not asked for anything other than a general ‘if you picked this up randomly and started it, would it suck you in enough to keep reading or would you put it down’ like that was literally all I needed him to answer for me. So I told him his latest novel (his second at that point) was essentially just him masturbating to his own opinions (because he’s an arguer, who loves to tell ppl they’re always wrong, and that’s by his own admission) for one hundred pages, and not in a way that anyone else would care to read. He was pissed, but so was I. We didn’t talk for a good week, and we had almost all our classes together lol. 

Like, getting nothing back in review sucks too, but this one has stuck with me forever. Best part? I mentioned it to him a few years back, and he only vaguely remembered it, and followed it with “but I’ve said a lot of rough stuff about your work. I mean, it deserved it at the time, but you might be good at this someday!” 

I didn’t smack him, but I really, really wanted to. 

29. Favorite story/poem of another author

This doesn’t specify on Tumblr or not, so I’ve got two: one from outside tumblr, and one from on here.

A. When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be by John Keats

When I have fears that I may cease to be   Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,   Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,   Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,And think that I may never live to trace   Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,   That I shall never look upon thee more,Never have relish in the faery power   Of unreflecting love—then on the shoreOf the wide world I stand alone, and thinkTill love and fame to nothingness do sink.

B. Again, this Tumblr one could be a huge ass list because y’all on here are amazing, but one I’ve been rereading over and over again recently is @xmxisxforxmaybe ‘s Remnants series, which can be found here: https://xmxisxforxmaybe.tumblr.com/post/186702235396/remnants-complete-work

Like, Ahk as a character is captured so well, and I love the way the plot twines and also when the smut comes up? Very good A+ smut, something I value pretty highly on and off Tumblr because man, sometimes smut is just work to write, so I appreciate it when it’s really good. All around, this series has captured my heart and I legit have a link to it saved on multiple devices so if I need something to read, I can just pull it up right away. 

30. Hardest part of writing? 

Self-doubt. It’s the biggest hurdle for any artist, regardless of the art in question I think, but with writing it seems to double down a lot. Like, you have to really get out of your own head, even as you spend all your time there with your writing ideas. Shit gets weird and twisted, man. 

For the longest time, I really let self-doubt defeat me too, and I regret the time I lost to that. I still get hit with it randomly, cause I don’t think it every really goes away for any writer, not even the big names like Stephen King or Neil Gaiman (who I’m half tempted to @ on here purely because I wanna know his feelings on this stuff because I respect and admire him as an artist and his thoughts very much, but also he’s a very busy man so I’m not gonna bug him by doing that lol.) 

All there is to do is to work with it, push past it, and most importantly keep writing. I have days where that feels like the hardest thing, but each day I manage to get past it and get the words down? I let myself feel proud of that, and mark it as an achievement in my Big Book of Stuff I’ve Done in This Life.