#so I stopped eating meat and contributing to that industry

[sl33py-g4m3r]

it feels like a complaint but idk~~ hope it's not~~~ i kind of worry me telling anybody about anything is a complaint somehow~~

but saw something on a local PBS channel that I don't understand~~

are so many people into being the omnivores we think we are; to find lampooning a swordfish being hideously barbaric, watching it die in the boat with it's blood everywhere, and then throwing it on ice to be sent to local restaurants.... they think it's absolutely barbaric~~

I forget the word they used, disgusting/disturbing or something of the sort, it was yesterday and I don't remember~~

and at the same time EATING AND ENJOYING IT ANYWAY~~

I don't understand~~ you see that, are revolted by it, yet eat it anyway?

a little light doesn't click on in your head and goes "we aren't supposed to be killing and eating animals if we are disgusted/disturbed by it?"

true omnivores would see a feast of that fish~~ or any slaughterhouse really~~~ and yet humans are so disgusted/disturbed by it that we hide them from plain sight and make the act of slaughter hidden from view~~

if people are so disturbed by seeing their food be produced; then why and how can we see it as food to begin with?

I've been vegetarian so long that I no longer see meat as a viable food source and get genuinely confused when other people actually do, despite the slaughter and bloodshed witnessed....

like how can you still eat it and not be turned off by it? there are more compassionate ways of eating that don't involve taking the sentient life of another being~~

also unrelated thing that makes me feel really old for saying it to begin with; my 24 hour news station had inexplicably been replaced with another instance of a 24 hour shopping channel, and I don't understand... it is the exact same as the one a channel over..... ???

BRING MY 24 HOUR NEWS CHANNEL BACK DARN IT~~~!! WE DON'T NEED 2 OF THE SAME EXACT SHOPPING CHANNEL ON LOCAL TV~~~ I DON'T CARE~~~ I JUST WANT MY NEWS STATION

[jadeharleyinc]

the scale of AI's ecological footprint

standalone version of my response to the following:

"you need soulless art? [...] why should you get to use all that computing power and electricity to produce some shitty AI art? i don’t actually think you’re entitled to consume those resources." "i think we all deserve nice things. [...] AI art is not a nice thing. it doesn’t meaningfully contribute to us thriving and the cost in terms of energy use [...] is too fucking much. none of us can afford to foot the bill." "go watch some tv show or consume some art that already exists. […] you know what’s more environmentally and economically sustainable […]? museums. galleries. being in nature."

you can run free and open source AI art programs on your personal computer, with no internet connection. this doesn't require much more electricity than running a resource-intensive video game on that same computer. i think it's important to consume less. but if you make these arguments about AI, do you apply them to video games too? do you tell Fortnite players to play board games and go to museums instead?

speaking of museums: if you drive 3 miles total to a museum and back home, you have consumed more energy and created more pollution than generating AI images for 24 hours straight (this comes out to roughly 1400 AI images). "being in nature" also involves at least this much driving, usually. i don't think these are more environmentally-conscious alternatives.

obviously, an AI image model costs energy to train in the first place, but take Stable Diffusion v2 as an example: it took 40,000 to 60,000 kWh to train. let's go with the upper bound. if you assume ~125g of CO2 per kWh, that's ~7.5 tons of CO2. to put this into perspective, a single person driving a single car for 12 months emits 4.6 tons of CO2. meanwhile, for example, the creation of a high-budget movie emits 2840 tons of CO2.

is the carbon cost of a single car being driven for 20 months, or 1/378th of a Marvel movie, worth letting anyone with a mid-end computer, anywhere, run free offline software that consumes a gaming session's worth of electricity to produce hundreds of images? i would say yes. in a heartbeat.

even if you see creating AI images as "less soulful" than consuming Marvel/Fortnite content, it's undeniably "more useful" to humanity as a tool. not to mention this usefulness includes reducing the footprint of creating media. AI is more environment-friendly than human labor on digital creative tasks, since it can get a task done with much less computer usage, doesn't commute to work, and doesn't eat.

and speaking of eating, another comparison: if you made an AI image program generate images non-stop for every second of every day for an entire year, you could offset your carbon footprint by… eating 30% less beef and lamb. not pork. not even meat in general. just beef and lamb.

the tech industry is guilty of plenty of horrendous stuff. but when it comes to the individual impact of AI, saying "i don’t actually think you’re entitled to consume those resources. do you need this? is this making you thrive?" to an individual running an AI program for 45 minutes a day per month is equivalent to questioning whether that person is entitled to a single 3 mile car drive once per month or a single meatball's worth of beef once per month. because all of these have the same CO2 footprint.

so yeah. i agree, i think we should drive less, eat less beef, stream less video, consume less. but i don't think we should tell people "stop using AI programs, just watch a TV show, go to a museum, go hiking, etc", for the same reason i wouldn't tell someone "stop playing video games and play board games instead". i don't think this is a productive angle.

(sources and number-crunching under the cut.)

good general resource: GiovanH's article "Is AI eating all the energy?", which highlights the negligible costs of running an AI program, the moderate costs of creating an AI model, and the actual indefensible energy waste coming from specific companies deploying AI irresponsibly.

CO2 emissions from running AI art programs: a) one AI image takes 3 Wh of electricity. b) one AI image takes 1mn in, for example, Midjourney. c) so if you create 1 AI image per minute for 24 hours straight, or for 45 minutes per day for a month, you've consumed 4.3 kWh. d) using the UK electric grid through 2024 as an example, the production of 1 kWh releases 124g of CO2. therefore the production of 4.3 kWh releases 533g (~0.5 kg) of CO2.

CO2 emissions from driving your car: cars in the EU emit 106.4g of CO2 per km. that's 171.19g for 1 mile, or 513g (~0.5 kg) for 3 miles.

costs of training the Stable Diffusion v2 model: quoting GiovanH's article linked in 1. "Generative models go through the same process of training. The Stable Diffusion v2 model was trained on A100 PCIe 40 GB cards running for a combined 200,000 hours, which is a specialized AI GPU that can pull a maximum of 300 W. 300 W for 200,000 hours gives a total energy consumption of 60,000 kWh. This is a high bound that assumes full usage of every chip for the entire period; SD2’s own carbon emission report indicates it likely used significantly less power than this, and other research has shown it can be done for less." at 124g of CO2 per kWh, this comes out to 7440 kg.

CO2 emissions from red meat: a) carbon footprint of eating plenty of red meat, some red meat, only white meat, no meat, and no animal products the difference between a beef/lamb diet and a no-beef-or-lamb diet comes down to 600 kg of CO2 per year. b) Americans consume 42g of beef per day. this doesn't really account for lamb (egads! my math is ruined!) but that's about 1.2 kg per month or 15 kg per year. that single piece of 42g has a 1.65kg CO2 footprint. so our 3 mile drive/4.3 kWh of AI usage have the same carbon footprint as a 12g piece of beef. roughly the size of a meatball [citation needed].

[hadesoftheladies]

I find it very unfortunate that most people have a very romantic, heroic and “male” view of revolution or activism. Most people imagine it as sudden, loud, violent, glorious, public sacrifice and bleeding in the street. You think of protest and you think of destruction of property, bonfires and gas masks. It is sometimes, big and large donations. These can lead to change, but they oftentimes risk being performative.

Revolution and protest, I think, are actually very quiet affairs. Revolution is reading and learning to deconstruct culture and human behavior. Your own mind, where the colonization happens. I think Revolution happens in the daily choices of what we choose to consume. When people live their lives as protest rather than wait for a big moment. I think boycotting shouldn’t simply be about getting companies to bend the knee. It should be about divesting from an entire industry of exploitation. Our way of life should change. Revolution is us changing. Changing our minds and choices. And living in such a way that we create a community, however small, of different living. Where we buy each other’s soaps and wooden spoons and rely on each other’s expertise instead of buying a subscription (and I’m generalizing here I am aware bc activism must be intersectional to be effective). It is far more impactful that I stop consuming dairy for a lifetime than that I starve myself for a month in protest. It is far more costly to these corporations and to the status quo that I alter my life.

Men’s idea of glory is dying for their beliefs. That is the predominant narrative of heroism. Everyone dies. But living in accordance to your principles? Living as radically as possible? That’s rare and that takes a whole lot of work. An entire lifetime of boycotting is far more destructive to these systems than simply punishing yourself or putting pressure on others in the heat of a mob. It is far more revolutionary to think the forbidden thoughts and so do the uncommon thing. By living this way, we open a door for a new way of living for others. And when we create a new system of living as a community, we set up pillars here and there that will eventually hold up the future we are trying to build. It takes longer. The best works of art take longer. Quality takes more time and focus than quantity, and too many of us are worried about the quantity (how many people can we get to post the black square) rather than quality (how do my decisions impact those around me and how can I use that?).

I think that’s why so many of you look down on things like separatism and veganism. It is less sensational and more (at least in perception) inconvenient. But I have contributed to the environment way more by not eating meat than I would by donating thousands of dollars to green charities. And the reason I am vegan is because other vegans helped me integrate into that lifestyle. They “socialized” me so to speak. Separatism socializes women and men, too. Women separating socializes future policy makers and little girls that would have otherwise (likely) ended up in abusive relationships. It’s not glamorous: does that make it less impactful?

I think revolutionaries are not the ones that merely give a nice speech for the newspapers or volunteer (I am NOT saying volunteering is not worthy or valuable activism). Rather I think revolutionaries are the ones who are willing to change how they think and how they live first. I think the greatest thing a person can give to their causes is their entire life. Not money. Not suffering. Not a few days in the soup kitchen. Their entire way of living. Their consumption habits and their civic activities. Their intentionality in interpersonal relationships.

I think that’s how anything’s ever gotten better in the first place.

[found-fae]

Which taxidermists do you think are ethical? there are some that get their tails from fur farms for free or low cost bc the farm considers it trash and would otherwise burn it/get rid of it and then the taxidermists modify and sell them, some from trappers and hunters that say they have humane practices and follow strict law, some hunt their own products like some indigenous shops, some from roadkill, and some from fur farms that claim to be humane. there’s also this question of like. some people say that owning taxidermy and wearing fur, leather, or tails is disrespectful and objectifying for the animal. that it is morally not okay even when ethically sourced. to think of it as if they were human. I am wondering, can it be done without objectifying and disrespecting the animal? Is it okay to wear tails?

Taxidermists that get their supply from leftovers of farms dont really bother me unless they are actively promoting the farm in a positive light, as for fur farms that farm wild or even domestic (like cattle) animals, if it isn't cruel its not a problem, but its incredibly common both wild and domestic farms to be cruel/abusive + you shouldn't be keeping wild animals in places they are not native to, cause they could escape and become invasive species, + spread diseases. Also especially for deer, herds infected with chronic wasting disease and other illness can spread to the wild populations of deer very easily, I dont know how it is for other animals in farms but it could be a issue too.

I don't really have a problem with hunters and trappers if they are abiding by laws, and are treating the animals they kill with respect and kindness and not like toys, some peoples only supply of money, is the profession in question, infact some cultures rely on it. + hunting and trapping can help contribute to population control for species that are overpopulated or at risk of becoming overpopulated. Of course this wouldn't be as big a problem if these animals had natural predators of course.

Also I am a roadkill harvesting fan, where I live the road commission stopped cleaning up animal carcasses near the road, which only draws more animals to the road, which puts more animals in danger. I am planning on getting a roadkill harvest license so I can either donate my findings to a local taxidermist more skilled then me, or bury the roadkill I find for bones/make taxidermy with.

Yes you can wear taxidermy, people have worn fur pelts to stay warm for way more then I can fathom, I dont nessacarily agree with the idea that by wearing a part of a deceased animal made into taxidermy you are objectifying the animal, honestly if it was considered normal humans would be wearing their loved ones on them, humans already wear their loved ones hair, teeth. And my mother wants to make my grandmas glass eye into a ring when she passes to remember her, so it isn't that horrible.

I do however think it's important to treat animals with respect, and kindness, even after death.

I would also like to note incase I am about to be asked this question, I am pro meat eating, but am highly critical of the current meat and farming industry, they are just as bad as the abusive fur farms.

[pookaseraph]

The environmental answer is a bit complicated. Leather can be made sustainably, although it isn’t always, it is also a byproduct of the meat industry. Now the meat industry itself is contentious, cattle farming is not great for the environment and contributes 11-14% of greenhouse gasses to the environment, and I don’t blame anyone who is squeamish about wearing leather (unlike something like wool). If people are eating beef and cows are being killed regardless, it’s mostly a beneficial byproduct (as long as it’s not being coated in plastic). The material will last for decades and if care is taken in picking something you will have an item that can also be stylish for decades.

Where you fall on leather will largely come down to how negative you are about cattle farming. If you’re ok with cattle farming (or interested in trying to diminish environmental issues with it), leather is pretty chill. Plenty of sources will tell you this. If you fall on the side of ‘cattle farming is immoral and needs to stop’ you will also hate leather for obvious reasons. Plenty of sources will also tell you this.

Denim, however��� is very wasteful in greenhouse emissions, water use (largely via cotton @sailor-hufflepuff ), and toxins from dyes and washes. Denim cut offs are also pretty extensive and go to landfills. Linen and wool are far more sustainable, although I cannot deny that denim will often last longer. Personally I rate denim as ‘well, I have to wear pants to go outside/10’.

Both of them are leaps and bounds ahead of fast fashion pleather that’s going to the dump in a year or two.

All of that is to say that many products (especially vegan/vegetarian oriented ones) have massive environmental impact as well: agave nectar, chick’n type foods, and so forth. There is nothing wrong with being vegan/vegetarian for health or morality or religious reasons, but always evaluate the environmental factors of your ‘fake’ items. Pleather vs leather, agave vs honey, tofu scramble vs eggs, chick’n vs a local chicken, and so forth.

You really can go mad worrying about all this, and I recommend you don’t especially if it causes you a great deal of anxiety or you are forced to make certain choices due to disability, etc. Mostly, if you have the energy or money to focus on such choices, take a moment to ‘this or that’ your choices when you can.

*faux leather no animals were harmed! :)

[rametarin]

Verbal conversations seldom leave bones for anthropologists.

Just a stream of consciousness. It was inspired by observing other people wonder about what generations before them thought about things.

You ever wonder what people were really talking about, thinking about, afraid of, concerned about, anxious about, curious about in their numbers and in their generations?

Well, I'm a long rememberer. And by this I mean, I started forming memories that stayed with me around two. And never stopped. And for my age, I was a deep thinker. Partially because I was dealing with a psychopath of a mom with her own crazy issues and adapted just to contend with her ridiculousness all day, partially because I guess I'm just built that way.

And I remember distinctly many conversations, where I had them, what I was doing at the time. I can remember my first exposes to Radical Feminism and the weird, psy-op way they operated. Less like children and more like bad faith, programmed robots. It really was fascinating.. a product of cold war coaching. Absolute headfuck masquerading as social conscientousness and grass roots concern.

I remember a lot of people that hated nuclear power but with indirect reasons. Like when a person that objects to your behavior and thoughts on a moral, ideological level but claims to be concerned for your health and wellness.

I remember a lot of trendy bleeding heart histrionic stuff that paraded itself as environmentalism, but that's not exactly true. It tied a lot to the anti-nuclear stuff, just as a kind of neo-pagan urban primitivism histrionics about how trees and tree spirits were dying and eventually the earth would run out of oxygen because of clearcutting forests, appeals to peoples curiosity about supernaturality and esotericism and questions about reincarnation (where they happily told you about industrial warehouses full of animals for slaughter.)

I remember a lot of concern about acid rain, global warming, raised sea levels, apocalyptic catastrophe that DIDN'T come from evangelists, and screaming and clawing about how we needed to stop eating meat for moral reasons, and then ecological ones, as apparently cows were contributing methane to the atmosphere and causing the world to overheat.

Then they discovered in addition to producing 90% of our oxygen, our oceans produce a rather amazing about of methane, as well. Natural methane, which had to be added to the climate models eventually, and adjusted, and eventually conceded that we have methane in the atmosphere naturally, it just cycles naturally too. But they insisted, humans were why it was on the brink of causing catastrophic climate change.

I remember a combination of the media being platforms for the loudest, most organized and clandestine of voices, and I remember organization and deliberate action to slip people charged up with these feelings and beliefs driven by their own fears to argue in bad faith what they thought was good faith and try to do it with other peers ready, projecting this caricature onto people that weren't on their side or even on a specific side against them like they were some willfully ignorant bigot or caveman.

I remember a lot of discussion about how racism and any form of discrimination, "my tribe"ism (understood to be ethnocentrism, ethnosupremacism, ethnoseparatism) was bad. And I remember a lot of two-sides-of-the-mouth among a certain section that in the light claimed to be liberals, but in the darkness of an enclosed space, no cameras and no recording equipment revealed what they really were. Which today we know as the Intersectional Feminist values that are unapologetically Marxist.

They used liberal anti-racism people to aggregate people and talk them into corners, and casually slip in things from the sidelines, otherwise. Then if they expose themselves and their arguments turn sour, slip back into the "I'm just a liberal that hates racism. C:" face.

So you may ask, did they talk about "reverse racism?" And I'd tell you, there was dialogue about how those supposed anti-racists sure seemed to borrow from the idea every racist interaction would inevitably be between a bigoted white person, 90% of the time depicted as a man, and really avoided even commenting on the idea other groups could be bigots. They didn't come out and say, "only white people can be racist" as educators, counselors, the people running these anti-racism programs. However, the kids taught by extra-curricular life lessons by angry lesbian aunts and radical feminists and "serious Greens" certainly did, acting as empowered peers in the classroom or schoolyard to reinforce what the teacher was saying by being rude and snappy on behalf of the movement to say what the teacher couldn't.

"You can't be racist unless you are a white person and non-whites can't be racist" wasn't usually said openly, but it was a "tell me you believe X without specifying you believe X" moment. For all intents and purposes, people started noticing these biases.

In the era before the internet, this coordinated ambition to publically pick verbal fights with people around the water coolers, "have conversations," all amounted to the same eventual half-life leading to an inevitable conclusion. Debate that amounted to, "Are you saying only whites can be racists and bigots?" And the supposed anti-racists trying not to answer and stonewalling. The very crowds they'd created to harangue and browbeat from a moral highground or position of power were being used to force them to answer questions and be specific and take responsibility for the conversation they were advocating for.

It wasn't just one conversation, it was millions of smaller, more regional ones. Less a factory and more like a million cookouts that all just lead down the same path. Demanding an answer to, "If racism is bad, doesn't that mean when anybody is racist, it's all bad?"

And they REALLY did not want to have to answer that. Because of the way they'd presented anti-racism as understandable logic, it was neutral on whom was a racist beyond a person being a bigoted prick. The unspoken part was supposed to be anybody, unaccusingly, was a racist for behaving this way, and it was glib on if anybody else couid be. In practice, when you started asking questions, maybe suggesting some improvements on the retelling for nuance, you'd get resistance and pushback or corrections to fall back into a more primitive conversational state.

We found they REALLY didn't want it to be conversationally possible for Asian, black and Indigenous American people to be racist, or to minimize that conversation to where it may as well have not existed.

And in an era where every classroom, school yard, personal BBQ becomes a target for "conscientous social advocates" to raise a stink and platform their own topics and ruin the party, where they reinforce this hyper-vigilance against antiracism by putting white boys in their place while all eyes are on them just to go "See!? SEE!? Bigoted society!" they REALLY didn't want those same white boys to take up antiracism, but beat them like drums for being even LESS anti-racist than them. "You're against anti-black racism. I'm against all racism. Your anti-racism is inferior to mine."

So that forced them to come out and say, dogmatically, "it's not racism when a black person discriminates against others."

So you'd ask, "then what is it?"

And they'd insist there was no linguistic word for it. So you couldn't use that one. Racism did not include black people being bigoted like that. This raised so many more questions, but saying, "that's not how that works," and "you can't use that word for that" was stonewalling.

Then the conversation evolved to, "So we need a word for that. Okay." Which got protests by those that wanted racism to be synonymous with white oppression of others without modifying the language beyond neutral seeming unaccusative.

The reactive anti-racists would then pose queries and for-instances. "If a black businessman fires a white man because he's white, and only because he's white, and hires people of his own race, is that racism?"

They'd get back, "No, because that's not racism." They wouldn't get an explanation, based on how previously racism was described, that wasn't racism. They wouldn't get the "correct word" for what that was. They were trying very hard to prevent a word forming to stigmatize minority groups being tribalist and supremacist and negate any stigma or blowback for discriminating in their own interests, and smooth that over.

They would obstinately just filibust and intercept EVERY conversation about race THEY started with this shut-down and denial, and people took notice. Because it wasn't in the carefully coreographed talking point, script and public performance for "just wanting to have a conversation :c" they posed.

A hundred million different times throughout the 80s and 90s, this exact argument played out between Joe Q. Public and the guerilla culture warrior trying so very hard to emotionally manipulate people to social conscientousness while keeping any power over the words or their meaning from being examined too critically or thinking about the structure too critically, and shutting down and smearing people as those bigots you weren't supposed to listen to and be chomping at the bit in fury to ostracize and destroy.

Eventually it always came to that boiling point. "That's NOT what RACISM is!" And then describe specifically a white-on-black situation, using "oppressed minority" as code for "anyone that wasn't white," but with the plausible, "I never said that/I never used those words :^)"

And there it was. Eventually they'd say it aloud. Only whites, as majority, could be racist. And if you probed deep enough, they were forced to answer even places whites were the minority, they couldn't be considered oppressed, "because capitalism."

The concept of "reverse racism" organically appeared a million different times out of the frustration of dealing with this organized psy-op of people trying to convince a very self-constious and wellmeaning crowd that only white people could be guilty of prejudice and hate, and that minorities were above this stigma. That racism was one-way from whites to others, and the reverse had no term of consequence, because it "wasn't relevant."

So it was made like a million different species evolving into crabs. "Fine. Then that's reverse-racist. Okay, so Paul the Reverse-Racist fires a man for being white-"

Once this happened, they started using that Mockery Face and berating them with sarcasm. You know, the way people make a caricature of Neckbearded Swordcane wielding Nice Guy- just, making a chimera out of several, emotionally retarded caricatures to reflect the ignorance and invalidity of different groups and say they are all guilty of eachothers failures with none of their virtues. But they understood people had grown too keen and wise to the bullshit. They smelled organized attempts at social disorder.

Reverse-racist still got mocked as a concept and was depicted as just being invented as an imagined boogyman by butthurt white men smoldering over being put in their place for bigotry at gatherings, but that isn't how it entered the mental space in the late 80s/early 90s.

So why do I comment on this?

I see a lot of people that think people only really started having conversations about racism, discrimination and social conscientousness in the 00s or 2010s. They think, and act, like "previous generations just weren't having these conversations, due to the inertia of white supremacist racism. Sad. :c" While creating this ridiculous mental space where culture was frozen since the 1960s.

I assure you, before there was even public awareness of Privilege Theory, Grievence Studies or formal Intersectional Feminism, there was a diverse conversation happening here. It just didn't have those specific words, yet.

And in retelling this, they leave out a lot of figures that were either lauded or tolerated. Black community organizers that were more or less just Richard Spencer but for Black People. But that was okay somehow because the dude wanting to return to a "more glorious past free of the taint of the [X]-man" was imagining white people as the great, capitalist despoiler of their glorious previously kingly people, not Jewish people. That would've been wrong.

Under the pretenses of listening to an oppressed group talk about how the evil majority was holding them back, figures would come out dressed in fashion that quite literally was just cultural appropriation of other African cultures, purely on the basis of pan-Africanism and black nationalism. It was presented to the western public that black ethnonationalism and racial solidarity was supposed to be good, wholesome, necessary, beautiful and just. But, you were discouraged from even labeling yourself a white person as a group, outside the convenience of conversations about race- and how, as a white person, you were obligated by what you are to listen, not talk back. Outside negative obligations and stigma, that world was denied to you unless you wanted to be considered a Nazi.

So BLM being a vehicle to reignite that wave of ethnoseparatism and instituted racial tribalism, rolling out the red carpet for one kind of racist and putting another kind in a corner not because of their bigotry but because they were the wrong color of bigot, surprised no one over 25, now 35. But to the kids, it may as well have been the wave of the 1960s that carried into the 90s.

Thanks to a more diverse crowd, a more interactive and far reaching social sphere for correspondence, more nuance and ability to sleuth information like what BLM are doing with the money or who their sponsors are, the turnover of people that went from crying sycophants to once-bitten people with ideolgoical buyers remorse, the people that initially bought into it left in droves earlier than they would've otherwise.

But those conversations reinventing the wheel that generation, still failed to be recorded. Because, words seldom leave behind bones for anthropologists to pick through.

[theclimateconversations]

Creating alternate climate realities: big ideas come from small towns

“So many of us come together to mobilize, make waves, and share space- to feel some agency within a machine that has cogs in nearly every aspect of our day-to-day lives. Everyone looks to one another hoping for the right answer (and also hoping to make that answer first), aiming to deduce the best tactic, the elusive “silver bullet” to stop or at least slow down the crisis that fills us with anxiety. Underlying much of our movement is a fundamental survival mechanism that operates on “me” instead of “we”.

Far too much of our collective energy is directed toward a pursuit that leaves us mirroring capitalism, individualism, and that which we fight. Bringing in more people (and ultimately more dollars) seems to be the only acceptable theory of change. Money-the currency of individualism-hangs like a heavy cloud over campaigns calling for systemic change. It is undeniable we are all stuck in the clutches of capitalism and the fossil fuel economy, from the tiny collective to the global environmental NGO. Creating educational materials, conducting research, bringing lawsuits, etc.- it costs money. But there are millions of people who are waiting for direction on how to protect our shared home. These times are indeed urgent, as all of our messaging states. We can do far better to direct the energy of those already engaged into substantive change.”

Excerpt from Tara Houska’s essay, Sacred Resistance, in All We Can Save: Truth, Courage, and Solutions for the Climate Crisis. 

This excerpt tells the reader very clearly: community scale action must be prioritized. It is easy to get caught up in daily life, while trying to at least contribute your little grain of sand (“tu granito de arena”) to the sea of possible actions for mitigating the climate crisis, but that is exactly what our current system hopes for. This system hopes that the most we can do is to stop eating meat, stop single-use plastic, and buy from thrift stores. At the scale of the fossil fuel industry, this is less than significant, but let me be clear: this is not to say that people should take small-scale action, but that these individualized actions leave people satisfied, and so they don’t seek further, larger-scale action. I would love to say that we can change institutions from the inside, but if this is possible, this change will be slow. What we can do now is rely on each other and take these actions into our own hands. In cases when the local government clearly will not take action, I would like to see collective action solving these issues, as has occurred already in vulnerable communities across the globe. Casa Pueblo speaks of creating a new reality for Puerto Rican communities, a reality that doesn’t depend on the lack of reaction from the political leaders that the town leans on. A look into the future occurred after Hurricane María, as Casa Pueblo created a bubble of an alternate reality. This reality of solar-powered homes and businesses allowed the town of Adjuntas to have electricity throughout an island-wide blackout. Now, imagine this reality, but instead of within just a bubble, it has spread to the entire island. Small Island States (SIDS) would greatly benefit from the use of the wind, solar, and ocean resources, especially in the midst of climate disaster. These islands are often left without resources, such as electricity, food, and water, but if their natural resources are harnessed before, during, and in the aftermath of a hurricane, for example, the island community immediately doubles and even triples its resilience to these events. This is a reality that we’ve seen sampled, in smaller bite-sized realities, and it is time to expand beyond the current infrastructure. The people have the power to enact this change, but it won’t be easy.

[superfuxkinghungry]

**PART 2 OF RANT**

So sorry for the late ass post, I procrastinated again *face palm* even though nobody really views my shit anywayz, to all those ppl who do tysm, I'm trying to tell y'all the real, horrible things that happen to the animals that are supposedly "humanely" slaughtered for our selfish consumption, and get my point across. The more we breed these animals, the more pain-feeling and sentient lives we put through fear, depression, sadness, torture, and suffering. Nothing about physically and mentally torturing and abusing, taking animal's children from them right after birth for the consumer's selfish demand, and depriving an animal of their needs is humane AT ALL!! We as individuals may not make a big difference of course, but together we can make a change in the demand for products from brands that use animal testing, meat, dairy, and poultry, lessening the amount of products made, if we all stood up for the innocent lives put into a world of cruelty and suffering before their eventual MURDER. So in order to help stop this, we can protest publically or online, stop buying from brands that use animal testing, (animal testing is also a terrible procedure done on animals in order to expirement the goodness of a product.) stop buying from domestic pet breeders, from the poultry, meat or dairy industry of course, and talk to our friends, family, or other people, or show them real videos depicting terrible instances that animals in slaughterhouses that can easily be found on youtube, articles, and google. not all people are convinced easily, we can always try to slowly help them understand the horrors of which billions of animals each year are subject to in the cosmetics industry, medical industry, and the dairy, meat, and poultry industries. I understand not all are easily convinced and we can always start at the pace that will help us transition fully, its just the best to keep in mind that we are doing this not for us, not for our needs, but for the animals that are constantly abused in slaughterhouses and not able to see their children, raped to be impregnated to produce even more meat to be consumed. Male cows are taken from their mothers and used as veal because they are unable to produce milk. It is so sad. Pigs are raped to give birth, confined in metal cages so claustrophobic that they are unable to even cuddle or hold their young near (Only big enough to let their babies drink their milk) and slaughtered by throat slitting and boiling (they can be conscious during) after suffering cruelty their whole life at the hands of the people who buy their products and the people who murder and torture them for consumption. Does that sound humane to you? It is EVIL and needs to be stopped. If we were in the animal's place, we wouldn't be able to stand one day in a slaughterhouse, so why should we treat these sentient beings like they are below us? They feel the pain we do, they feel anxiety, fear, sadness, affection, and depression. There is no excuse to contribute to the suffering of these lives subject to inhumane and disgusting ways of cruelty just so we can have something to eat. I also do NOT in any way support the breeding of domestic pets as I am an antinatalist that believes putting any life in a world full of suffering, depression, hate, sadness, and risking giving my child a mental or physical disability (I have a mental disability, it sucks ass!!!) is super weird and nasty and will never consider having a child. Anyone who thinks their genes are SOOOOO special to pass them down to an offspring is so disgusting. The world is very overpopulated first of all, secondly there's so many children and teens in need of adoption and a loving family that are constantly ignored because people want their own mini them or whatever, its weird af!! And if you want a pet, then get as many as you want at an animal shelter or pound!! It makes no sense to put a new life in danger of suffering the raising prices and economical ruin of today, instead of tend to ALREADY EXISTING life!! We could all make a change, if we TRIED.

[ferventfox]

So I usually don't respond to posts off the posts themselves but my resonse was getting pretty long and I just generally didn't want to get into all of this on OPs post, so on this post:

(and those that express similar sentiments)

On one hand,  yeah, a lot of this is just that thing people do when they see someone else abstaining from something and take that as personal judgement on their own behavior and have to point out how abstaining is wrong actually. 

But on the other hand: it’s pretty undeniable that there are a contingent of vegans who are very self-righteous and act like their lifestyle is above any sort of reproach and if everyone was just vegan all these problems wouldn’t exist and so if you aren’t vegan you are bad person who is selfish and unwilling to make sacrifices. It’s actually perfectly reasonable, if you have encountered this attitude, to point out that the mechanisms that sustain plant-based diets also result in damage to the environment and exploitation. That vegans are also selfish and and unwilling to sacrifice certain aspects of their own lifestyles that make their lives easier or more enjoyable. I can hardly fault people for not liking being lectured by hypocrites. Veganism isn’t “guilt free”-- it just isn’t; I don’t think any kind of lifestyle is. 

I have zero problems with people abstaining from eating certain foods on moral grounds. And again, I won’t be intellectually dishonest and claim nobody does---plenty of people take veganism or vegetarianism as some sort of personal insult-- but I don’t have a problem with it, and even abstain from certain animal products myself. I’m also under no delusion that my personal choices for the past fifteen years or so have saved any animals, or that I’m morally better than anyone who still eats those things, any more than I think I’m morally better than a vegans who goes to Starbucks every morning to get their coffee. Coffee drinkers are contributing to the extremely exploitative coffee industry way more than I, a non-coffee drinker am, regardless of whether they use cow milk, almond milk, or no milk.  But you know what? I don’t like coffee so it’s easy for me not to drink it: they can’t live without coffee and I can’t live without dairy. Pretty much everyone has some part of their lifestyle that couldn’t give up even if they know/found out that it's supporting bad things; that includes vegans.

The truth is civilization is built on animal exploitation (and human exploitation) and that maintains your lifestyle regardless of  your personal dietary choices. Even if you were the strictest possible vegan cradle to grave, the debt you would owe to past and current medical research performed on animals alone would be massive. So we’re all essentially in the same boat. We all have shit to feel bad about and our ability to personally cut specific thing out our lives to mitigate that personal feeling of guilt varies by individual. Everyone, vegans and meat-eaters alike,  just need to stop bullshitting that the One True Morally Unimpeachable Way To Consume Products just so happens to align with their own personal preferences and abilities (and whenever morals don’t align with your preferences “No ethical consumption under capitalism” but only for things you really like, not for anything someone else really likes; those people are selfish assholes) and just admit that this is what is going on.  Vegans too, can stop tying themselves into knots, with claims that their motivations for pet ownership are different from everyone else’s or that animal testing is morally reprehensible but their use of animal-derived insulin is an exception because they are using their life to fight for animals or whatever other dumb shit they feel the need to say to maintain a moral high ground they desperately want to have. So whenever you are about to say obnoxious things like "I'm bippity bopity-boo what are you doing for XYZ?", think of all the things you are inevitably not doing for ABC (or even for XYZ) and then refrain from saying it. You 100% deserve any whataboutism you get hit with for saying shit like that' It is, in fact, entirely possible to present accurate information about inhumane or environmentally harmful factory farming practices and tell people about available substitutes for animal products without the seven layers of judgmentalness that someone added to stroke their own ego. It's actually very easy to do!

tl;dr: I see a lot of bad-faith, emotionally motivated, and outright ill-informed criticisms of veganism and I don't like them, but let's not erase all the bad-faith, emotionally motivated, and outright ill-informed arguments that vegans make. I don't like those either.

[jacqcrisis]

i’m gunna rant a bit about cli mate change and certain opinions by certain people of certain dietary and lifestyle choices so im gunna put it under a read more cause i just need to complain for a bit and i’ll probably delete this later

what really irritates me about the decrying of animal ag for contributing to the climate crisis is that agriculture, in total, does not even account for a a fifth of greenhouse gas admissions. if you really cared about the environment, you’d be focusing more on the continued use of fossil fuels in transportation and electricity generation. even if we stopped raising animals for food full stop, we’d still have ALL THE OTHER MORE PRESSING DAMAGING SHIT CONTRIBUTING TO CLIMATE CHANGE. 

AGRICULTURE WOULD STILL CONTRIBUTE TO IT. POSSIBLY EVEN MORE SO GIVEN THE FOOD NEEDED TO FEED THE WORLD SANS ANIMALS WOULD NEED TO BE TRANSPORTED ACROSS THE GLOBE TO FEED PEOPLE YEAR ROUND TO MAKE UP FOR THE DEFICIT NEEDING TO BE FILLED BY ANIMAL PRODUCTS. YOU NOT EATING MEAT SOLVES SO FUCKING LITTLE CAUSE FOSSIL FUEL CONSUMPTION IN EVERY OTHER ASPECT CONTRIBUTES SO MUCH MORE.

it irritates me because this becomes the go to argument in the ongoing climate crisis when it barely solves ANYTHING. but guilt-tripping people about their diets online is a lot easier and ego-stroking than the massive uphill battle that is fighting against the gajillionare fossil fuel industry for renewable energy.

[namjoonspiration]

Saudade

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Summary: After your parents died, you are the sole heiress to a booming electrical company, and your grandmother has put you to the task of making connections. Although, Park Jimin didn’t seem all too happy to see you.

Word count: 16.8k

Rating: M

Genre: fluff, angst, 1920s AU, non-idol AU

Warnings/Tags: Short, non-descriptive mentions of parental death and miscarriage (i.e. no gore or graphic material); so much angst; mentions of amnesia, apathy and heartbreak; lots and lots of kisses. It’s not really a hardcore story. I purposefully tried to keep my story from being too heavy.

Author’s note: This is my first BTS fanfiction, so please go easy on me. I tried my best at editing, so I apologize or any blaring grammatical errors or word misusage. If you liked it, please leave a comment or a heart. It’ll help me continue forward with my other projects 🥺👉🏻👈🏻Enjoy!

Masterlist

You were the picture of perfect togetherness. Your grandmother had made sure of it. You must present yourself as the rightful heiress to the family fortune if you are to be accepted by these people. Rightful heiress? You’re the only heiress. These people can be quick to judge. No, really? The thought hadn’t crossed your mind all day. The maids had entered your room before the crack of dawn to get you ready for battle for a brunch that wouldn’t start for another several hours.

White satin T-strap shoes with crystal embellishments adorn your feet, which stand in a precise parallel position. White gloves fit perfectly to your fingers, hands fold neatly right over left, which hold your soft pink Chanel purse. Your loose, straight-fit dress of a matching color falls below your knees. Underneath are the ungodly itchy flesh-tone tights that you had despised since you bought them. Your hair, which is painstakingly curled and styled into a bob to the give the illusion of the short trendy hairstyle nowadays, was half-hidden under a white cloche hat. Pearls--all of which tapped with every step into the mansion of magnificent grandeur--adorned your ears, neck, and wrists.

It was hard to focus your eyes on anything in this place. At any point, dark rich colors of purple, red and dark brown jumped out to blind you, making you feel as though the sun didn’t come out this morning. Portraits upon portraits of the family line the walls, along with countless gold plaques. Oddly shaped awards and random busts perch on pedestals. Clearly the people who owned this house--the Parks--were not shy about displaying their achievements in the industry and within their family. But then again, who lived in the East Isles and didn’t have the main entrance of their home brag about their elite status for them?

You didn’t. Yes, because you weren’t a narcissist. You were also “new money.” Your family hadn’t been in the electrical business for generations...  People seem to forget it’s still a relatively new thing.

To be honest, you didn’t really care you were here. The pomp and circumstance didn’t make your heart jump or your fists clench. In fact, nothing these days invoked much emotion from you. You’re not sure when you started feeling that way and why it was so prevalent. Maybe it was after your parents passed away a couple years ago. Your grandmother came to live with you to help you transition into your new life. You had asked her repeatedly how your parents died, but she never could bring herself to tell the story. You mourned your parent of course, but after a while, you just stopped feeling most emotion.

So, as you walk behind your grandmother--who was talking to Mrs. Park presumably--you wondered about the food you might get to eat. If anything brought you real satisfaction and pleasure from living this lifestyle, it was the meals. However, you don’t think scarfing down food will win you any points with these people today. Your job was to network today, make connections to build your way up in the world, or so your grandmother had put it. Once again, you didn’t care, but your grandmother very much. did. So, you decided that you would do your best for her. Your apathy may get you most days, but you know in your mind without a doubt that doing this for your grandmother would make her happy, thus should make you happy. Even if you didn’t feel it.

Hopefully, Hwasa, your life-long best friend, is here. She should be. After all, her family doesn’t own the largest portion of the country’s textile industry for nothing. She was always best dressed and loved getting a kick out of the other ladies gawking at her perfectly stitched clothes that were ahead of the trends.

“Y/n,” your grandmother calls, waving at you come forward to her side. You obey, and the butler opens the door, announcing your arrival. Good lord... You felt like fresh meat being served to the wolves. But, of course, the scene before you is masqueraded in pastel colors, silk furniture, glimmering flute glasses, and smiling faces to make the whole situation seem less grotesque than it felt.

You survey the room to find most eyes on you. Ladies piled around the couches in front of the open floor-to-ceiling windows had stopped chattering and sipping their tea. More of them clustered in small groups had stopped their conversation as well, some even daring to give you looks of disapproval. However, there were some that might as well have been deaf to the announcement, much to your gratitude. Young children still run around the room or played their games on the lawn just outside the open French doors. Old men continue with their odious laughter and cigar smoking. Even the young men don’t spare you more than a glance or two.

Except for one.

A young man with dark blond hair dressed in a dark blue suit, gently cradling a flute in his ringed hand. Perhaps more striking than his blue-gray eyes are his full pink lips, which were slightly parted to reveal one slightly crooked tooth in an otherwise perfect row of white teeth. You have never seen a man with a face such as his. But what is even odder is the way his eyes shone as he looks at you.

You tilt your head slightly, holding his stare. What a weird way to look at a stranger.

Your curiosity about his strange behavior only goes so far. Suddenly, the brightness on his face is gone, replaced with a deep frown and a scowl aimed towards his shoes.

So much for trying to appear approachable and “make connections.” You had not learned anyone’s names yet, and it was already going south.

Your grandmother tugs on your arm, steering you over to the ladies surrounding the couches. Then the introductions and small talk begin. You only had enough motivation to explain the premise of your family business and some future projects and contribute to some of the minor gossip being shared. You didn’t want to be doing this at all, but your grandmother had put in so much effort today to make sure this went swimmingly. She was also putting up with it so you and she could continue to live comfortably.

Every so often, you survey the room again. After almost two hours into this, the men have filed out, probably to have a crack at the gaming tables, and the children have been laid down for their afternoon naps. You thought you even needed a nap yourself. Or maybe it was the conversation. In any case, you excuse yourself to freshen up.

Once outside the room, you take a deep breath, inhaling the air free of heavy perfume and bad breath. You wonder around the seemingly endless hallways, looking at the paintings and occasional pieces of art. Anything to delay going back to the gathering.

Then, you hear harsh. whispering. Slowly, careful of the noise from your shoes against the floor, you approach the voices and peer around the corner.

To your surprise, it’s your best friend. She is talking furiously with a man, whose back is almost completely facing you, his hand propping himself against the wall not too far from her.

“Hwasa?” You call, stepping out completely from the corner. She jumps at her name, and the man stiffens. She looks over the man’s shoulder in your direction and smiles brightly at you.

“Y/n, is that you?” She steps around the man and greets you with a hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you! It has. been way too long.” You relish in the brief happiness you best friend’s hug gives you. Then, your smile falls. She notices when she pulls away and follows your line of vision.

He is looking directly at you. The young man who actually isn’t happy to see you after all. “I must be interrupting something,” you state blatantly. “You know, Hwasa if you wanted to be intimate with the son of the house, you should have demanded he take you to a less-traveled part of the home.”

They both look at you in surprise, and it’s enough to make you cringe. “How did you know he was the son?” Hwasa asks.

“The paintings.” You look around the hallways, twirling your finger. “Kind of obvious.” Hwasa lets out a laugh. The son breathes out a sigh--not sure if it’s relief or something else--and then chuckles to himself. “What’s so funny?” He stops but doesn’t respond. “Hwasa, your man is very rude.”

She smiles sweetly and laughs off your comment, “Oh, he’s not mine. I’m way above his standards. And I don’t like men who can’t bother to be polite and introduce himself properly to a new friend,” she hisses in his direction. “Come on, let’s have a proper introduction.” She grabs your hand to lead you closer to the man. “Y/n, this is Park Jimin. His family is in the metal industry--”

“Old family steel,” you mutter, but both fo them apparently hearing it.

Jimin looks at you curiously, “How’d you figure that? The paintings?”

You shrug, “I just knew that. Maybe it somehow came across my vision when I was admiring all the participation trophies at the door,” you say, with probably a little too much sarcasm. His eyebrows rose, and you saw Hwasa try to hold in a giggle. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Park.” I think. “I’ll just leave now, so you two can finish your private conversation.”

Hwasa stops you, her mood cheery again. Probably to mask the shocked and confused feelings coming from Mr. Park. “It’s alright, y/n. I need to do my pleasantries with those in the sitting room. Why don’t you get to know Jimin more? I find him to be one of the more tolerable ones in this lot. I’ll see you later.”

Once Hwasa is gone, you continue to look around the hallway, but Mr. Park is just staring at you as if he’s trying to figure you out. You notice he’s somewhat taller than you, his sun-kissed skin looking even deeper in color in this oddly lit hallway.

“Are you mind-reading skills working?”

He is caught off guard. “What?”

“I was wondering if you had discovered anything about me while you were burning holes into my head.”

He scoffs. “You’re awfully blunt.”

You simply shrug again. The emotionless part of you felt dominating today, so his comments and strange looks don’t affect you. You think back to Hwasa’s bright personality and heart-warming interaction when she greeted you. It sparked some brief brightness in your stoic heart, but only briefly.

He clears his throat, trying to fill some of the awkward silence that has blanketed the atmosphere. You look at him expectantly. He raises his eyebrows in response. “Y/n, may I ask you something?”

“Please address me as Miss Y/l/n as we’ve only just met.” You’re quick to speak. He shifts awkwardly on his feet. You soften your tone. “But go ahead.”

“Would you like to have dinner this Friday?”

“Dinner? Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Park?” You are taken back. What an incredulous question. And he had commented you were the blunt one...

“Uh...” He trails off, confusion rippling across his face. “Yes, I am.”

“Mr. Park, may I ask you something?” You don’t even give him the chance to nod. “When I first arrived, you seemed very unhappy, and dare I say, disgusted, at my presence, and now you’re asking me to have dinner with you?” It seems that Mr. Park is giving you quite the first impression as you feel anger start to flare in your chest.

His eyes widen in panic. “No, y/n--I mean Miss Y/l/n. Please do not misunderstand my earlier interaction.”

“Misunderstand? How could I have possibly misunderstood you when you looked directly at me and appeared as if I insulted you?” You fire back.

“I apologize. It was not like that. You just reminded me of someone who broke my heart.” He rushes out in a hurry to redeem himself. Well, it didn’t seem clear to him that he failed until a few moments later when he squeezed his eyes shut and palmed his forehead.

You practically gawk at him. “I’ll give you the effort of trying to save yourself Mr. Park, but I will not give you a second chance to redeem yourself over dinner.” And with that, you walk off, heels clicking against the mahogany floors.

What a spoiled boy. He’s probably never had a woman reject him before. It brought you satisfaction that you were probably the first. Never has a man looked at you with such distaste and then try to woo you with dinner. You don’t know what he wants from you, but he wasn’t going to get it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the gathering stretched into the late hours of the afternoon. You didn’t see Mr. Park or his parents for the rest of the day. Hwasa grabs you before leaving the party, telling you to meet her for lunch Friday on Brouton Street.

And you do, and it turns into more of a shopping spree than a lunch date. Not that you were complaining. You never complained when it came to shopping and trying on the latest fashion trends out of Europe. You stepped out of probably the thirteenth ship you’ve visited today when you notice it was already two pm, and you still haven’t eaten lunch yet. You were waiting outside the shop while Hwasa was paying for her new bracelet.

You survey the bustling street, thinking about what you wanted for lunch when you spot a pair of men that seem to have all the ladies giggling to themselves and their friends. Even wives are looking twice, much to the discomfort of their husbands who definitely noticed, but weren’t immune to looking a second time as well. As they got closer to you, your vision focuses.

Mr. Park.

You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes at the name. What a surprise. Next to him is a dark-haired young man you didn’t know. They were dressed to the nines, complete with hats and walking sticks--more for fashion rather than function.

They spot you, and the young man gives you a big, boxy smile and a wave. Your eyebrows shoot up, and you look around to make sure he wasn’t waving to someone else. By the time you stop looking around, they’ve approached you. The strange young man seems ecstatic to see you while Mr. Park looks embarrassed. Serves him right.

“Hello, Miss y/n.” The young man greets you enthusiastically.

You blink. “I’m sorry, have we met before?” And why didn’t you greet me formally, you wonder. You glance towards Mr. Park. His lips are pressed, hand tightening on your walking stick.

The young man laughs charmingly, but somewhat nervous. “Oh, right. It’s just... my friend, Jimin, here mentioned you!”

“Did he?” You smile, sweetly. Almost too sweetly. Mr. Park’s jaw clenches. “How did you know what I looked like?” You inquire further for the fun of it.

Mr. Park quickly cuts in. “I--we saw you b-back there,” he gestures down the sidewalk. “I said, oh that’s y/n--Miss y/l/n. We met the other day...” He looks anywhere else but at you in the eyes. You narrow your gaze at him.

The store’s door opens with the ring of a bell, and Hwasa joins you. “Taehyung! It’s so good to see you again.” She gives him a quick hug. You notice some of the other women walking around you are gawking or giving her death stares. “I hope your time in Paris was spent well. Have you met my best friend, Miss y/l/n? She’s new to town. Her parents made quite the fortune in the electrical sciences, and she is their sole heir. Y/n,” she gently wraps her arm around yours, “this is Kim Taehyung, a true artist. He has his own exhibit in Paris to display his work. He also dabbles a bit in photography.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Kim.” You smile.

“Please call me Taehyung. Mr. Kim is my father,” he laughs, showing off that boxy grin of his again. You have to admit he’s a very charismatic person.

“Alright, but please address me as Miss y/l/n for the time being. I understand Jimin may not have told you my last name, but I would hate to see his rudeness rub off on your seemingly polished character.” You tack on a smile at the end, hoping Mr. Park feels the jab.

Indeed, he does. Mr. Park sputters, muttering “polished” under his breath like it was the last word he’d use to describe Taehyung. You ignore him.

“Yes, Miss y/l/n.”

Hwasa interjects, “Well, y/n and I are famished. Would you both care to join us for a late lunch?”  Before you could protest, Taehyung agrees enthusiastically. Hwasa takes his arm, leading the way back up the street. You pout. You wanted to eat with your best friend only, who you haven’t seen in forever. Mr. Park notices your sad expression and offers his arm to you. You simply look down, tightening your grip on your bags before following Taehyung and Hwasa.

Jimin rubs his face in frustration, watching you walk away without a second glance. He can’t keep tiptoeing around you. He made himself a royal fool and an ass last week at the gathering. He needed to fix this if he wanted to get closer to you.

Mr. Park catches up to your side. “Miss y/l/n,” he speaks politely.

“Yes?” You offer.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I apologize if you find my behavior to be untoward. I was not very good at expressing myself the other day, and it bothers me greatly that you would think that I find you unpleasant when I really don’t.”

You consider his words. The apology was genuine, you know that. You also. know that he found you pretty. Or at least Hwasa had told you as much. You complained to her earlier about Mr. Park’s behavior at his. house. She had laughed, claiming it was because he found you attractive. You were confused as to what made her say that. She explained that you were all he could ask about before you found them in the hallway.

You didn’t know what to say. Hwasa wouldn’t lie to you. It certainly made your heart flutter that Mr. Park, an uncommonly handsome man--discounting his behavior--would find you attractive. You can’t say you didn’t stand in front of the mirror for a while after that figuring out what he liked about your appearance. In the end, you credited his odd behavior with the fact he found you pretty. While that did not excuse his rudeness, his present apology has rerouted the course of your thoughts. He genuinely seemed like he was trying to make amends.

“Alright, Mr. Park. I forgive you. I understand that sometimes introductions and first impressions can go awry. Especially if the man finds the woman astonishingly pretty and charming.” You gently fiddle with your diamond earring.

“Pretty?” he asks, chuckling.

You stop walking and turn towards him, “Do you not find me so?” Your tone is accusatory.

He looks a bit panicked. “No. I mean, yes. I--” You take a step closer.

“You what, Mr. Park?” You ask, looking into his blue-gray eyes, which are traveling all across your face before landing back to your eyes. Your brain has already started to take back every meaning you put to his apology.

“I think you’re more than pretty.” He finally breathes out, tension slipping from his shoulders.

Your heart pounds so heavily against your chest, your composure slips. A blush rises to your cheeks, partly from relief and partly from embarrassment. “I apologize,” you say, suddenly your voice much softer.

He didn’t seem to hear it. Instead, he smiles, eyes twinkling. “I think you’re very beautiful, Miss. y/l/n.” Oh, your mind blanks momentarily. Now you felt like the fool. Your cheeks become hotter, pulse racing faster. He said it with such nakedness. He didn’t beat around the bush about it or tease you into guessing how you looked in his eyes. You lay a hand on your cheek, surprised at the heat. Hopefully he would think it’s the weather. It has been unusually warm lately. Your flustered state is clearly evident. Mr. Park grins cutely at you. While your head is still swimming, trying to process the abrupt change in your interaction, he gently takes your shopping bags from you before shifting it to hold in his hand that holds the walking stick. He offers his arm again, “Shall we catch up with Taehyung and Miss Hwasa?”

Your eyes snap to his. Your cheeks are still flushed, lips parted.

Jimin thinks it’s the most beautiful sight he’s seen.

Suddenly, as if you fell into a drunk stupor but without the disorientation and wild behavior, you feel warm and… fuzzy, like you were covered in a soft blanket. You haven’t felt this kind of happy feeling in what seemed like forever. And he does look incredibly cute with the way he was smiling at you.

Returning the sentiment, you take his arm. The muscles hiding underneath his peach colored suit jacket felt strong in your hands.

You two leisurely stroll, having lost Hwasa and Taehyung after they turned the street corner.

“Do you know where we are eating?”

“This little French restaurant between Main and Central. Le Lacroix Pâtissier.”

He hums contently, “I love their almond croissants and apple tartlets.”

“Really? Those are my favorite dishes! Are those your favorite?”

He shakes his head. “But I had a friend who insisted I try them once, and I ended up really liking them.”

You were pleased. “You have good taste, Mr. Park.”

“Please, address me as Jimin.”

Your smile to yourself. “Okay, Jimin. Since we are moving onto a first name basis, you may address me as y/n.”

He repeats your name. It rolled softly off his tongue. You like how it sounds very much coming from him. And you, without knowing it, tightly your hold on his arm, leaning more into his solid form as you continue to the restaurant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that Friday, you meet Jimin every week for several weeks at the same restaurant. First Taehyung and Hwasa joined you—you insisted Hwasa come with you to keep you from making a fool of yourself in front of Jimin—but after about two weeks, they claimed other commitments. However, you didn’t mind at that point. You grew really comfortable with Jimin. You talked about everything together—your favorite dishes and restaurants in town, your families and their businesses (okay, those were brief topics of discussion), your interests (you found out you both like dancing, upon which he offered to take you to a dance club sometime), your future plans… Of those, which then led course into deeper topics—marriage and love.

It was a strange conversation, and it wasn’t brought up during lunch. He actually had invited you over to his estate for tea and a meal of any foods that you could want—more of a change of scenery decision if anything. You were concerned that your favorite food might not be so favorite if you kept eating it for several weeks on end.

Following the delicious meal, he suggested a light walk outside. He led you out of the back of the mansion to the small private beach. You both kicked your shoes off, walking in the sand, letting the fine, white grains sift over your toes. You two strolled side by side, enjoying the sun’s warm on your faces, the summer air and each other’s company.

Then, Jimin had asks the question. “Has your grandmother proposed that you marry anyone yet?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “My grandmother wouldn’t put that out there. At least not yet. I think she thinks it would be too soon after the accident.”

Jimin turns sharply towards you, concerning etching lines into his handsome face. “Accident?”

You nod sadly. “Yes. My grandmother told me I fell down the stairs several months ago, and I hit my head. She said it had frightened everyone we knew. She was concerned about my recovery from it all. I don’t think I’ll get married until life returns to normal,” you trial off. “But, actually… I don’t really know what normal is anymore. Not after the accident. It’s like I woke up in the completely different world, and I don’t know what I’m doing. There’s always this awkwardness I can’t get past. It’s like I’m walking on eggshells.”

You weren’t sure why you were telling Jimin all this, but you knew you could tell him, and he wouldn’t make fun of you for it. He wasn’t that kind of person. He seemed very open with you, so you supposed that in your heart, you could be vulnerable with him too.

After the silence became too long, you looked up from your feet and saw Jimin wiping at his eyes. “Jimin, are you crying?” You lay a hand on his arm to stop him from walking any further, and step in front of him. He bows his head lower, and you crane your neck to the side to try to see his face. After a few moments, he breathes in deeply, bringing his head up. He looks at you with eyes, pink and puffy from rubbing at them, and a slight upturn of his lips accompanied by a chuckle.

“The sand and salt keep getting in my eyes. That’s all.”

“Would you like to go back inside?” He shook his head. “Are you sure?”

“No, no, I’m alright. I’m sure I’ll be okay now.” He smiles at you, attempting to reassure you. He blinked away the redness in his eyes. Besides, you look too beautiful in the setting sun for us to leave, was what he wanted to add.

You return his smile. Then, you’re just staring at each other, taking in the colors the evening sky paints on your skins and in your eyes. Then, you ask him, “What about you, Park Jimin? Has your mother arranged you to marry anyone?”

“She did once, to the daughter of a man who owned a successful old railroad company.” He admits.

“Are you still to marry her?”

“No,” he hurriedly states. “I didn’t want to from the start. I eventually pushed it off enough that they let it go. They said they couldn’t wait around forever.”

“Why didn’t you want to? I’d assume a business like that would pile onto your wealth, and she couldn’t have been that hideous.” You inwardly cringe. Why would you try to reason with him?

He laughs, almost bitterly. “You wound me, y/n. To think that I would think about money and looks to be the top priority in finding a wife.” You open your mouth to assure him you don’t think so lowly of him, but he beats you to it. “But I know that’s not like that. You merely considering the things we have to think about in our world. And I know that’s not how you truly think either. I know you wouldn’t marry for money.” You hadn’t realized how close he was until he was gazing intently into your eyes.

“Then what would I marry for?” A soft, curious question.

“Love.” There is no hesitation in his response. He believes it whole-heartedly. Then, he pulls away. “Just as I once tried to do.” He reaches down in the sand, picking up a shell.

You didn’t expect that. “What happened to her?” Jimin’s jaw clenches and unclenches, but not in anger. This was really difficult for him. You suddenly regret asking about it.

Then, he says, “She left. And I haven’t heard from or seen her since three months after I proposed to her.”

“Why would she leave?”

He shook his head, “I don’t think she had a say in leaving, and so she left quietly.” He gently brushes the grains of sand from the shell, exposing its pure white and rose color.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin,” you say after several moments of silence. I’d never imagined that something so horrible could happen to two people in love.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter anymore though. What is done is done, and I can only move forward to find that love again. Except this time, I’m never letting it escape from me so easily.” He sounds resolute, so sure of himself and you can’t help but admire him. He smiles, holding the bonnet shell out to you.

You accept it gratefully, pleased with the small gift. Glancing at Jimin, you see his cheeks have turned pink. Your mouth curves into a smile. You take his hand in both of yours, the shell pressed between your palm and his. His skin feels smooth, and although his hands are smaller than the average, they feel no less strong and comforting. You squeeze his hand lightly in comfort. The bonnet shell imprints a small circle in each of your hands, serving as a little promise of your connection with him. “You’re a good man, Park Jimin. And I hope you find what you’re looking for.” He smiles at you sweetly. But to his unhappiness, you let go of his hand much sooner than he thought you would. However, it didn’t take long before you realized how much you missed it too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t see Jimin for the next week and a half. He left to accompany his father out West for several days to learn more about the family business. When he mentioned it, you couldn’t help but pout, which he immediately felt guilty about. He told you that he’d very much make up for the missed Friday lunch tenfold. He promised the next Friday lunch you two would have all the food, chatter and enjoyment as a month’s worth of lunches. Upon this, you giggled and said you would expect nothing less.

During the days he was out of town, you quickly grew to miss his company. After only missing one lunch, you quickly realized how much more time in the week you wanted to spend with him. Those lunches on Fridays, along with the regular community gatherings, just weren’t enough. You wanted to see him every day. He brought brightness back into your days, made you feel warmth and happiness again. And when he talks with you about the hard stuff in life and is so honest with you, it’s like he’s filling in the empty spots in your life. Where your lifestyle of material and money is only the surface of your being, Jimin looks deeper and sees you as the person you are. He never wants to talk about business or money. He always wants to know about you. And you can’t ignore the way your heart flutters when you’re answering one of those many questions about yourself and you catch him so content listening to you.

He would relax in his chair, head slightly tilted to the side, lips turned up in a pleasant smile, his eyes gleaming with interest and admiration. Never once would he look away from you when you spoke. You always had his undivided attention. And the more and more you think about, you love it. His caring heart towards you, his kind words and gentle soul, the ability to be open around him.

But it was also more than that.

You like Jimin so much that you feel you’ve known each other longer than four months. It feels like a lifetime that you’ve known him.

You told Hwasa about it one afternoon while painting in the sunroom of your home, unsure what it meant. She merely giggled at you and said, “Y/n, you’re falling in love. And you know it, too.” You did know in your heart, but you couldn’t help but feel the shock of it all. But also, the doubt given your circumstances.

“But Hwasa, how do I know what love feels like? I feel empty most of the time. I don’t even know if I can know what love is.”

Hwasa stopped you right there, “I know where this is coming from, but you don’t have to you worry about that. No one knows what love feels like until it hits them. Besides, you just told me that Jimin makes you so happy and you miss him so much when he’s not here. Trust me, don’t think I don’t see the moping you’ve done for the past couple days. That’s emotion. You’re feeling everything for him with your heart, and there’s no reason to doubt that, no matter what.” And that was why you loved your best friend so much. She was a grounding force and always has been since the accident. Always a level-headed thinker and confident woman. A true role-model. You gave her the biggest hug, thankful for her friendship. Without her, you thought you would have reasoned yourself out of your love for Jimin.

Finally, after said week and a half, you are walking with Hwasa and your grandmother in The Grand Hotel for a large gathering of all the affluent families in the East Isles.

Of course, you and all the other ladies wouldn’t be in the same room as the men. Instead, the women would be drinking tea, tasting little cakes, gossiping and playing a few rounds of light-hearted card playing while the men ate their hearts out and smoked cigars while testing their gambling skills. They would talk of business, family dealings, blah, blah, blah.

Just as the last of everyone was filing into their respective places, you were trailing behind Hwasa and your grandmother to the tearoom. Then you felt a hand grasp your arm.

You gasp, whipping around to see Jimin with a playful look on his face. Your face breaks into the biggest smile, and he pulls you into an empty hallway in the hotel. When he let go of your hand, you pull him into a hug. “I missed you, Jimin.”

He hugs you back with equal the comfort and emotion, his strong arms pulling you tightly to him. “I missed you as well.” He pulls away and that’s when you noticed his disheveled state.

“Oh, my goodness. Jimin, did you just come from the train station? Your collar isn’t even straight.” You grasp the edges and aid him in fixing it.

“I apologize for the long trip, but it gave me enough time to think about how I’m going to make up for it.” He smirks lightheartedly.

“Oh, really? How?” You asked curiously, smile creeping up on your face. You finish with his collar and brush your hands down his shoulders and arms to smooth out the wrinkles in his jacket.

“We’re going on a picnic tomorrow at the best place in the East Isles. I’ll pick you up tomorrow from your house around lunch time.” He looks hopeful about the idea, but you can’t help but figure from the confidence he exudes that he already knows you’ll agree.

You bite your lip to prevent from smiling too much like a fool. “Okay! That sounds wonderful. I can’t wait.” You dare yourself and kiss his cheek quickly. You’re about to dash off before he could see your face turn scarlet, but he catches your wrist.

He slides his fingers down to grasp yours before bringing the back of your hand to his lips. They press a soft kiss there. He keeps his eyes on you, and your heart won’t stop fluttering. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he smiled at you in farewell.

You practically skipped to the tea hall.

Once there, you sit with Hwasa at a table with four other finely dressed girls. “Oh, good you’re here y/n. We were just about to start.” She hands you a little stack of cards. All of you begin shuffling and laying out cards onto the table as the game begins.

The red-haired girl dressed in a powdery blue color directly across from you seems smug. Hwasa notices it too. “Something you would like to say Florence?” You remark.

She shrugs her shoulders, but the smirk doesn’t leave her face. “I think I’ll be married by spring.”

“Oh! I suppose congratulations are in order then. Who’s the lucky man?” The petite girl at the end of the table chimes in.

“None other than Park Jimin, of course.” Your blood turns to cold steel in your veins. It takes every effort for you not to reveal too much of yourself. Hwasa stiffens next to you. “What other man is there to marry?” Florence has turned her attention directly to you, eyes flashing with spite. Your eyes narrow only enough that she would notice. What was she going on about? Did she know about the time you were spending with Jimin?

Thankfully, being the well-versed girl Hwasa is in social graces, she merely laughs. “Florence, you are funny. Park Jimin has not committed himself to a woman since he was rumored to be in love with someone almost two years ago.” You felt your head swim. Did Hwasa know about Jimin’s lost love too? She was pretty close with Taehyung, who was close with Jimin. Maybe she only knew the rumor. Regardless, your heated rage turns cold, remembering how devastated Jimin looked talking about her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Florence sneers. “Clearly she is long gone. Or maybe she never existed in the first place. I heard a rumor he was using that as an excuse to get out of his previous arranged marriage anyway.”

Hwasa raises her eyebrows, her gaze scrutinizing. “And now you’re saying you’ve magically brought Park Jimin out of his despair and you two are hopelessly in love?” Hwasa harshly fingered the edges of her cards.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She replies with bittersweet venom. “Try not to get jealous, Hwasa. I’m sure Taehyung will propose to you when he finally impresses your father with a fortune earned from his artistic talents. Although I don’t know how long that will take. I heard his exhibit caught on fire last month, torching most of his work. A shame he will have to start over…” Your eyes snapped to Hwasa. She hadn’t told you about the fire. Nor did she ever mention just how close her and Taehyung were.

“Florence,” Hwasa tosses her cards on the table, the paper landing with a smack on the polished wood. “I need you to get your head out of your ass for a minute and listen carefully to what I have to say.” You are shocked at her choice of words. Some women at the table behind you glare in Hwasa’s direction, but she ignores them. “Firstly, Taehyung and I are not getting married. We are close friends.” Florence falsely pouts. “Secondly, Taehyung has more talent and grace in his pinky finger than you have in your entire body and then some. So, I suggest you shut that trap of yours before you wake up and find every single one of your father’s department stores foreclosed.” Florence’s face was the perfect cross of fear and royal anger. With that, Hwasa straightens her spine and stands up. “If you are confused about what I said, I hope you figure it out because I won’t be repeating myself.” Her red-painted lips are set in a deep frown, most of her rage having left her. She heads for the door, her shoes clacking loudly from her firm steps on the marble floor. Most of the women in the room have paused their games to watch her leave, some even going as far to disapprove of her sour attitude.

“Poor Hwasa. She’ll die an old maid if she keeps that attitude.” Florence remarks with unrestrained smugness. You are ready to slap her into next week for her treatment of your best friend. It’s time she gets a reality check.

“I don’t think you should be wasting your time worrying about the wrong person,” you say coolly.

She scoffs, “Is that right, y/n? If I shouldn’t be worrying about Hwasa, who should I be worried about?”

“Yourself, obviously. I forgot that you can’t put two and two together. I’ll remember next time to spell it out directly for you.”

“Get to the point,” she hisses.

You lay your cards down and fold your hands neatly on the table. “My point is you’re not marrying Jimin. Not in the spring, not in the year, not in your lifetime.” Florence’s face nearly matches her hair color. “In fact, I dare say Jimin doesn’t even know that you are planning to ask him for his hand.”

“I won’t be the one asking, you stupid girl. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll be begging me to marry him.”

You force a smile. “If you insist. I’ll just give him a fair warning about his eminent doom tomorrow during our picnic date.” Florence’s expression twists into surprise. “Oh, and while we’re on the topic of you, I’ll mention how I accidently walked in on you and—what was his name?” You tap a finger thoughtfully to your chin. “John Withers!” You snap your fingers. “You two were in quite the predicament at his sister’s birthday a few months ago. Petting parties and dancing tongues and all that.” Florence gapes at you like a fish, her face overtaken with terror. The other girls looked at her in shock.

Caught in a lie.

You smirk. Your work here was done. Gathering your purse, you send a wink her way before strutting out of the tea hall. You knew you had hundreds of eyes on you, including your grandmother’s. You know you’re going to owe here an explanation later. Everyone in the room probably heard what you said about you and Jimin, but you could care less. You never had such pleasure in telling someone off.

You find Hwasa standing outside in the hotel courtyard smoking a cigarette. She sees the look on your face as you approach, and she grins wickedly. “What did you do?”

“I may have called her out on her lie and mentioned me spending time with Jimin. You should have been in there. Her face was priceless.”

“That’s my girl,” she takes another drag from her cigarette. “Want one? Special edition tobacco. Tae got them for me in France.”

You consider it, eyeing the delicately arranged rolls in the silver case. “Sure. I think I’ve earned it.” Hwasa laughs, handing you a roll and helping you light it. You feel your body release all the rage and spite with each pull. As you eye the cigarette in your fingers, you can’t help but think about what was said about Hwasa and Taehyung’s relationship. They were awfully close, and you had to admit the idea of them marrying had come across your mind sometimes. You had no idea about Taehyung’s finances or career, or even that his relationship with Hwasa was enough to warrant her father’s attention. You couldn’t help but feel bad for Hwasa; however, at the same time, you knew she’d test her father’s patience to its limits. She’d refuse every single marriage he’d set until he gave up. It didn’t matter if she didn’t marry. She had an older brother who would inherit the family business and take over. You wonder if this was a part of her plan. Even if she and Taehyung didn’t marry, they would be lifelong companions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She said that?” Jimin yells over the vroom of the engine. He throws his head back and laughs. “I’ve never heard such a lie before. I was the one who first caught her and John Withers together. They were having a petting party in the back of his car during a party a few years ago.”

“Really?” You yell back, holding onto your hat. “That’s so disgusting! I’ve seen him before, and he’s so greasy looking.” You make a face of sheer disgust, making Jimin laugh even harder.

“Yeah, he is! But, y/n, are you sure she wasn’t just saying something like that to get a rouse out of you?” He inquires, one hand relaxing on the steering well as he drives. “From what you’ve told me how she acts towards you it seems that way.”

“I have no idea! I really don’t know what the whole point of that conversation was,” you laugh. “Even if she was, I don’t care. I like you a lot Jimin, and I wasn’t about to let some girl try and spread false rumors about you.” You look out the car, trying to hide your blushing cheeks.

“Y/n,” he calls you. You turned your head, looking over your sunglasses at him, with your hand resting against your cheek. You answer with a small hum. Between the road and you, he spent as much time as he could gazing at you. Despite his own pair of dark sunglasses, you could still see joy twinkling in his eyes. “I like you a lot too,” he finally says. It did nothing to slow your racing heart or help you cool down, but you didn’t care. Not with the way he could barely keep his eyes off you.

You bite you lip, barely suppressing a huge smile. You lean back in your seat, gazing up at the blue June sky. It was a perfect day for your picnic with Jimin. Not a cloud in sight. A slight breeze blowing through every now and again to relieve you of the sun’s beating rays. The tall grass fields dotted with white and yellow flowers made soft hushing sounds with the wind.

Soon, you and Jimin arrive at the place he promised was the most beautiful place in the East Isles. And it was beyond beautiful. Jimin opens your door and takes you hand to help you out of the car. He was pleased to see your expression of awe as you took in the scene in front of you.

Flowers of all colors poke through the grass—a luscious green carpet—and lead to a small, crystal clear river. The water flows gently after soft brown rocks and into a pond at the end. Birds chirp, some of them chasing each other in the air before perching on the delicate branches of nearby trees. You think this is heaven.

Jimin grabs a large basket and blanket from the car. You seemed entranced by the scenery, and he giggles at your reaction. He slides his fingers down the back of your hand, breaking you from your trance, and threads them with yours. He leads you further into the grass to a perfect spot partially shaded by foliage. He expertly unfolds a thick blanket onto the grass and unpacks the basket, pulling out plates of all your favorite foods and wine. You kick off your shoes and sit down on the blanket, fixing your skirt to neatly cover your legs.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to eat, so I just had everything made that I know you like,” he smiles sheepishly.

“You must have been taking notes after our meals.”

“That and I feel like I know you well enough that if I had to guess out of these foods is your favorite I could.”

“Really?” You challenge, chewing on some grapes. “Which one then?”

“The cheese Danish,” he states without hesitation.

“Nothing else?”

“No, just the pastry itself. Even if you were in a new place with the most fantastic patisseries in the world, you would always go with a cheese Danish.” He replies with such confidence. He knew you so well.

You smile in delight. “I see your mind-reading skills have improved Park Jimin,” you tease, grabbing the cheese Danish from its plate and taking a huge bite out of it. Jimin laughs at your expression when some of cheese falls out of the pastry due to your aggressive eating and you try to catch it. He hands you a cloth napkin to wipe your hands.

“You’re going to spoil lunch!” he joked. “I have proper lunch dishes to eat before dessert. Glazed salmon with a spring mix salad and raspberry walnut dressing?” he offers.

“Yes please,” you grab the plate excitedly, your mouth watering at the sight of such a delicious looking lunch. You and Jimin eat through the first dish with ease, both admitting to each other that you each had skipped breakfast this morning in order to eat lots of food during your picnic. Then, you finally got to eat your cheese Danish, savoring every bite. After your stomachs were nearly full, you both drank wine, nibbling on an assortment of grapes, cheese and buttery crackers. You and he moved to the bank of the river, letting the water move soothingly over your feet. Conversation flowed with ease, discussing literally about everything that popped into your mind or led from one topic to another. Somehow you had gotten from topics like how you had a green thumb as a child and how you would be upset every time the birds ate the seeds you freshly planted to Jimin helping a man fix his car when in broke in the middle of downtown the other day. The man offered Jimin to take one of the puppies his dog gave birth too recently as a thank you.

“And you didn’t pick one?” You ask, surprised.

He laughs. “No, I said I didn’t need a puppy.”

“What about me? I wanted a puppy,” you deadpan.

Jimin’s face morphs into bewilderment. “You’ve never said to me that you wanted a puppy!”

You giggle at his reaction, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m teasing you, Jimin. I don’t expect you to think of me all the time.”

“But I do think about you all time. I should have picked one.” He rubs a hand over his face in frustration and regret.

“Jimin, it’s okay! I was only giving you a hard time.” You push his hand out of the way from his face and gently brush away the hair that had fallen into his eyes.

He watches your face as you focus on fixing his hair. Then his eyes slide to the hat on your head. He hates how you covered your hair with that ridiculous accessory. He knew about your voluminous curls that were pinned and restrained to the current trend. It made him unhappy.

He pulls your hat from your head and tossed away somewhere in the grass. “Jimin, what are you…” you trail off as he begins to pull the pins from under your hair. Somehow, he knew where each one was, as if he’d done it a million times.

As he removes each pin and your hair falls over your shoulders, he keeps his eyes on your face, gazing into the mesmerizing dark caramel color of your eyes. A blush paints your cheekbones. Slowly, you become your real self—the one that Jimin knew so well, but you had forgotten about.

When the last pin was removed, Jimin smiled lovingly at you. “I like your hair down. You shouldn’t wear it up so much. I love your curly hair. It kind of reminds me of one of the puppies I saw.”

“It had soft curly hair like mine?”

“Yes. The man said they were called Lagotto Romagnolo dogs. Ironically, they’re an Italian breed, but I only found that out after I said to the man, they sounded like a type of pasta dish.” Jimin explains, and you laugh softly. Comfortable silence fell upon the atmosphere. The sun warms your back, and the trickle of the river soothes you into an almost sleepy state. You turn your head and lay it on Jimin’s shoulder.

You sit there like that for several minutes, watching nature go about its day, sipping on your wine. Your wine glass then becomes empty, and you say as much. Jimin said he would get you some more, gently laying a kiss against your hair. Any relaxation you felt from the wine dissipates and your nerves spark. You lift your head up, and Jimin swoops in for a kiss on the cheek. He smiles cleverly, grabbing your wine glass from your hand before getting up to fill it with more wine. You couldn’t help tracking him with your gaze. From your sitting position, you finally get a good view of his body, particularly his backside. It’s a nice backside, you thought to yourself. As if he felt your eyes on him, he glances over his shoulder and totally catches you checking him out. He winks at you, and you shyly shift your gaze to the river.

Suddenly, your head feels so fuzzy. Your mind drifts, like you’re falling into a dream. You rub the heel of your palm against your temple, squeezing your eyes shut. When the sensation passes, you open them again, gazing back into the water.

Then, a dream comes to you, and it’s such a vivid dream.

You and Jimin are in the river, splashing water at each other. He wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you to his naked chest, he spins you in circles in the water.

The sensation in your head turns into a pounding, and you gasp at the pain. You lay your hand against your forehead, your skin feeling hot. You feel your pulse beating against the side of your neck. You twist in your seat, craning to see Jimin. He’s putting the cork back in the bottle. He looks up and smiles sweetly at you.

Another dream flashes before your eyes. You see the bodies of a man and a woman locked in a passionate embrace, kissing and holding tightly to each other. Underneath the woman is a familiar blanket and patch of wildflowers.

Then, it’s gone and so it the pain. Jimin’s face with creased with concern. He jogs over, abandoning the wine glasses. He kneels in front of you. “Y/n, what’s wrong? You look hurt.” He searches your face, your arms, your legs, your torso. But he finds nothing wrong with you.

That was because nothing was wrong.

You were remembering. Everything.

You pull Jimin in for a kiss, and your world bursts into a kaleidoscope of memories.

All of them were so vivid.

Your parents. How your father’s electrical business took flight. The money and the new lifestyle that came with it. Hwasa and the dance clubs. The parties and gatherings for tea. And then Jimin—he was in most of them.

The first time you met him, almost five years ago, similar to the situation months age when you “first met” him at his estate, being presented as new money. Except he never looked away from you when you walked in the room. He looked at you with the gleam in his eye like he does now, as if he’d fallen in love with you right then. And you too had found it difficult to look away. He was so handsome. Dressed in a black suit, with the pants so perfectly fitted that it made his legs look unbelievably long. His hair was styled to expose his beautiful face to the world. It was much darker back then, making his blue-gray eyes even more striking.

You had met him every chance you got. You were both inseparable. He was always so polite and sweet. Then, one night he confessed to you under the moonlight at the architectural park downtown and gave you the best kiss of your life. You secretly met up for picnics and boat rides, soaking in the luxurious things in life together, making happy memories. And you fell deeply in love. You had even gone to this place—the meadow with the crystal river. Jimin insisted taking a swim, immediately stripping down. You were worried someone might catch you, but he owned this land and assured you that no one would disturb you two. You looked away when he removed all his clothes before entering the water, and you insisted Jimin do the same. And he did. You remember the exhilaration thrumming in your bones when you removed the last of your undergarments. Never in your life had you imagined that you would be walking in a meadow and swimming in a river stark naked, much less in front of a man you weren’t married too.

When you got in the water, it was chilly, and you had said as much. Jimin had offered to warm you with a suggestive smirk. You had felt boneless at the thought but decided to tease him instead. You smiled mischievously before splashing him with water. Thus, a water battle ensued, and he ended up capturing you in his arms and tickled you to death. After admitting that you teased him on purpose, he finally stopped tickling you and insisted he just hold you in the water. He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you rested your head on his solid chest. He pulled you around the pond, humming and laying the occasional kiss on your head. You complained that you were getting too cold and hopped out of the water onto the picnic blanket.

You flopped down on your back, smiling up at the sky. Jimin laid down next to you on his side, head propped up on his hand so he could look at you. Water droplets fell from the ends of his dark wet hair and collected on his skin. You turned your head towards him and offered a soft smile. You reached your hand closest to him and brushed it soothingly on his forehead, pushing his hair from his eyes, which were slowly taking in your body. His eyes had grown darker with passion each passing second. Eyes locked on yours, he placed his hand over your heart, feeling the fast racing of it. Jimin saw your expression change, more reflective of his. “Jimin.” Your hand moved to his full lips, stroking the bottom one with the pad of your finger. “Please.” He leaned forward, kissing you passionately. Jimin conveyed his love with every touch.

Your one and only true love.

You feel your soul rush back into your present body, pulling away from Jimin. You were breathless and panting. His eyebrows are scrunched together in worry, eyes bright with fear “Jimin, I remember. I remember everything,” you rush out.

A million emotions flash across his face—happiness, sadness, confusion, fear, joy, pain, relief, but love outshines all of them. Tears form in his eyes that quickly fall down his cheeks. You feel your own tears on your face.

He cups your face in his bands, thumbs wiping away the tears. “What are you feeling? Tell me.” He speaks so softly, and it breaks your heart.

“Everything. I remember everything that I couldn’t from when my father’s company succeeded until now. I can’t explain it. I remembered things. I didn’t feel like I had any gaps in my memory before. It’s like I couldn’t remember that I was missing memories of you, my parents and my friends.

“I… I didn’t just fall down the steps, did I?” You ask. He shakes his head gravely. “I was in a car accident.” And as you explain the details, you see it clearly in your mind’s eye.

You were driving home with parents after a weekend getaway to the coast. Your dad was stressed and needed to get out of the city. After the weekend was over, you were riding in the car with your parents back into the city. Your dad was driving the car over the bridge when another car smashed into your family’s vehicle. Everything happened so quickly, you don’t remember seeing your parents. All you remember was falling so far, so fast and then hitting the ground before blacking out. Then, you woke up in the hospital with your grandmother by your side surrounded by doctors.

“My parents died that night, didn’t they?” Your voice cracks with the question.

Jimin frowns deeply. “I’m so sorry, y/n.”

“I already knew they were dead, but not how they died or when.” Then, you see their faces in your mind. “Mom… Dad…” you sob, covering your mouth to prevent from crying out. The full force of the loss hits you. Jimin quickly situates you into his hold, grounding you while you grieve for your parents.

You remember the family meals and time you spent together; the happiness on dad’s face when the business took off; the times when your parents got on your nerves, and now you wish you hadn’t argued with them so harshly; all the times you had mom-daughter and dad-daughter conversations. It all ended too soon.

You’re not sure how long you cried before you finally calmed down. Jimin was rocking you gently, cheek against the top of your head. The sun had started to go down. Jimin finally speaks, his voice forlorn.

“I went and saw you in the hospital. I heard what happened the next day. I hadn’t seen or heard from you. I called your house so many times, but no one answered. So, I went over there, and your staff had gotten a call from the police. They said your parents had died in the crash. I grieved for them.

“But you had managed to survive. Somehow by some miracle, you landed on a wooden platform not too far below the bridge. I thought they were going to say you fell in the icy water and that they wouldn’t find you. They took you to hospital, and you were unconscious.

“I visited you every day. I brought you your favorite flowers. I held your hand and told you everything I loved about you. And that I wanted you to wake up so badly so I can hear your voice and fully convince myself that you were still here. You didn’t wake up for almost a month. When you did, I was on my way to see you. I heard your voice from down the hallway. I was so excited. Finally, I could hear your voice again and kiss you. But, as I got to the door, the doctors had been explaining your condition to your grandmother.

“You suffered a serious brain injury and had amnesia. They assessed you couldn’t remember what happened in the last two or three years with other long-term memories having been forgotten. They found you could no longer associate emotions with most of your memories anymore. After the doctors left, you had already fallen back asleep. Your grandmother saw me and stopped me at the door. She knew that I had heard everything, and she insisted that I stop visiting. You hadn’t asked for me, and that based on the doctor’s evaluation, it was unlikely you remembered me at all. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I should have been in there, trying to help you remember, but your grandmother forbade it. And, in the end, she was right.

“You had just gone through so much, a lot of it you didn’t remember. You didn’t need me, someone you would have thought was a stranger, to come in and try to convince you that we were in love. It wouldn’t have brought you back. I wanted you to love me, not because I told you, you did, but because you do. I wanted to give you the chance to discover love again. Whether it was with me or not.

“It killed me to see you walk into my house again, several months after the accident, and reintroduce yourself and everyone pretend as if they didn’t know what a wonderful person you are. That day a couple months ago, when I had seen you… It was like seeing you again for the very first time. Then I was reminded I had lost you, but you were still here, not knowing that you still had me in the palm of your hand.” He softly circles his fingertips on your palm. “Besides,” he smiles ruefully, “what would you have done if I came up to you and said I was your fiancé?”

You hiccup from your tears, “Fiancé?”

Jimin swallows thickly, nodding. “Yes. I had proposed to you that Christmas. We were in the sitting room in front of the tree. We were just sitting there. You were looking at the candles and ornaments on the tree, commenting how pretty they were and that you’d want Christmas to be this beautiful and peaceful in your own house one day. When you said that, it made the ring that I had kept in my pocket for weeks feel heavier, and my heart was racing so fast I thought you would have thought something was wrong. But nothing was wrong. I was with the most beautiful, kind, intelligent woman in the world, and I wanted nothing more than to be in the future she was talking about. So, I got down on one knee and asked you, y/n y/l/n, to marry me—to allow me the honor of cherishing you every single day until our last.”

“And I said, ‘Yes, I will marry you.’” You sob, but it’s happy tears.

“And I kissed you and told you I would never leave your side ever, no matter what came our way. I guess I just hadn’t imagined that, that something would come so quick and with so much loss.”

You looked deep into his eyes, soothingly caressing the side of his face. “I’m here now Jimin. And I promise I’ll never leave you again.” You had forgotten the most beautiful moments in life—your memories of your parents, Hwasa, and Jimin—but you didn’t know that you had. And ever so slowly, Jimin was bringing you back to him.

However, despite your promising words, he was holding back something. He got choked up again, fresh tears shining in his eyes. He let out a shuttering breath, “Y/n, there’s something else about those months leading up to the accident.”

You trembled, anxiety lighting every nerve. “What is it?”

He covered your hand on his face with his and wiped at his eyes with his other hand. It took him a few moments to gather himself to say it, and it came as a shock—

“You were pregnant.”

Your world stilled and began to spin. “I was pregnant…” You repeat it quietly to yourself. Your mind spun into the kaleidoscope of memories again. You remember you hadn’t asked for your napkins at the beginning of the new year. You remember telling your mom about your missed cycles and explaining to her that you and Jimin had already been together before. You hadn’t told Jimin yet because you didn’t want to tell him until you saw a doctor and said it was official. And you and she were going to tell your father about it, but he was so stressed when he got home. That was the Friday of the weekend getaway. You both decided that you would tell him together when you got back home on Sunday you when he was in a better mood. Except that never happened.

“The doctor had said you were 12 weeks along. It made sense. After I proposed to you that night, we made love, but we decided not to use protection that time. I was so excited I didn’t think to ask if you were taking a contraceptive medicine. I assumed you were, so I didn’t think about it. You didn’t even show at all during those 12 weeks. The only way the doctors found out was because you miscarried. The trauma from the accident was too much for your body, so the baby…” Jimin couldn’t say it, breaking down into sobs. It was still too much for him to talk about.

And for you. You began to cry as well. “I’m sorry, Jimin that I couldn’t protect our baby.”

Jimin hushed you immediately, looking deep into your eyes. “This wasn’t your fault, y/n. You have to know that and believe that. I would never blame you for what happened. I’m not upset that you didn’t tell me because you weren’t ready to yet. And that’s okay. I mourn our son or daughter every day, and I still love them as much as when I found out they had existed and as if they were here.”

You cried for the loss of your parents and the pain your grandmother felt of losing her son and daughter-in-law. You cried for your unborn baby. You cried for Jimin, who had to hold in everything he knew and felt so you could figure out who you were again. He could have told you he was your fiancé but didn’t because he wanted you to love him and accept his love without controlling your heart.

“I know we’ll never be the same people before the car crash, but that doesn’t matter. I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n. And if that meant we would have to start over and fall in love all over again, I would do it a million and ten times more. I was reminded of things about you that I had forgotten that I shouldn’t have and the little things in the experiences that we have together that made me love you all the more. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jimin. Even when I couldn’t remember anything, I was falling in love with you.” He kisses you passionately, quickly muttering about he waited so long to hear you say those words again. Your faces are warm and wet with tears. You each kiss them away on the other’s face until they are gone. “I don’t have enough words to describe how incredibly patient and loving you are with me. You didn’t deserve to go through all of this.”

“Neither did you. We just know now that our love has conquered all. It has transcended tragedy, doubt, heartbreak and stolen memories. You’re mine, and I’m yours; and I’m never letting you go again.” You kiss each other sweetly, the pain of the past melting away with each press of your lips. Neither him nor you were sure how long you stayed perched in his lap just brushing kisses across each other’s lips and whispering promises.

“You know,” you start, brushing his hair from his eyes, “there’s no way I’m letting you leave me tonight to go to your too-far away house. You’re going to go to sleep with me in my bed tonight, and the night after, and the night after, and—”

He interrupts you with a laugh, his eyes squishing into cute crescent moons. “That sounds like a fine idea.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After quickly shoving the picnic basket and blanket into the car, you and Jimin drove to house. It was nearly 9 o’clock at night. You had been gone practically the entire day. You wondered if your grandmother was worried.

Thankfully, when you tiptoe through the house, your hand holding Jimin’s, the only person you encounter is Hwasa, who had been staying with you the past couple days ever since she got in a fight with her parents. She sees your intertwined hands and says, “Finally you two confessed your feelings. I was concerned I was going to lose my bet with Tae. Although, y/n, I would keep the noise level down, your grandmother is sleeping—”

You didn’t even give her the chance to finish before you pull her into a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, Hwasa. For being the greatest friend ever.” Hwasa returns the hug. She looks over your shoulder at Jimin, who simply winks at her. Even in the dark of the night, you and Jimin appeared radiant. “We have so much to talk about, Hwasa. But let’s do it tomorrow morning over breakfast.”

She beams at you, finally understanding what was going on. “I’ll be up bright and early. You two get some sleep, and I’ll phone Tae in the morning to bring some extra clothes for your guest. Goodnight, you two.” She exits the corridor, her silk kimono floating behind her like an extra shadow.

Once in your room, you and Jimin collapse on your bed. The only sound was the delicate chorus chirped by the crickets out in the garden by your window. You gaze at each other, listening to the other’s breathing, until you both fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jimin meet your grandmother and Hwasa in the seating room the next morning. Taehyung had stopped by briefly to drop off Jimin’s clothes. He said he gave the excuse to his parents that Jimin was stayed the night at his house after a much-too-fun game of pool. The staff had laid out extra breakfast and tea per your grandmother’s request. There was a lot that needed to be said before life could move forward.

Your grandmother and Hwasa explain the whole point of the plan they had set when it was discovered you had amnesia. It was very similar to why Jimin agreed to go along with it. It was to let you rediscover yourself and grow into a new person that fit the life that you knew. Nothing would have been more miserable than being told who you were and what you had to do. It was difficult getting the community around you to agree to it, but in the end, most felt awful about the terrible ordeal you’d been through. Everyone loved your parents, who were honest and hardworking, so they decided that if pretending to meet you again for the first time was the best way to help you recover it would be so. Thus, began your new journey.

You talk through the difficulties you had. The emptiness and loss of emotion that came with the “gap” memories your brain had created to lessen the trauma. This world hadn’t felt real to you in most aspects until you had more interaction with your best friends and lover. Even though your head had forgotten your memories with them, your heart had known them. And you were so grateful you had Hwasa, Jimin and Taehyung to anchor you back. You can’t say that you desperately wish to turn back the clock to change the events that happened. Firstly, that would be futile and a waste of energy. Second, although your parents have passed on from this world and entered paradise, you know you will see them again someday. You’re happy that your memories came back and you have those to remember them by.

This whole journey has only grown your love and appreciation for every moment and person in your life.

After many hugs and tears with Hwasa and your grandmother, Jimin politely asks if he could have a moment alone with you. Hwasa walks arm-in-arm with her out of the room, beginning to chat away about Paris. Before leaving, Hwasa looks over her shoulder and smiles at you both. You smile back at her, pink coloring your cheeks.

Jimin stands from his chair and holds his hand out to you. You take it, him helping you to your feet. He gazes at you, seeming focused and determined. You grow a little shy, and giggle. “Quite the morning, right? Probably one of the most eventful breakfasts in my life.”

“Yes, I think so too,” he states, but sounding only half-present. He’s engrossed in memorizing the features of your face, and the brightness that is radiating from you after just rediscovering who you were. He thinks that you only get more beautiful with each passing day.

He presses a kiss to your cheek with plush lips, the softness of it drawing a light gasp from you. His lips move closer to your’s, pressing another kiss to your cheek, but firmer this time. His steady hands come up to hold your waist. You tilt your head towards his, your lips brushing his as they come in for a third kiss. You’ll never get used to this. The passion with which Jimin shows you, even with the most delicate of touches. Your hands slide from his shoulders to around his neck, pulling him closer.

When Jimin breaks the kiss, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding you as close as he can. You lay your hand against his, fingers gently stroking through his hair in comfort. It occurs to you for a second that he might not believe that you’re really here, that you remember everything about your love for him. “Jimin, I promise I’ll never go far away again. I’ll stay so close by your side you’ll start to think you’ve got a second shadow.” You whisper to him. He chuckles against your neck. You feel him relax against you, his weight growing heavier in your arms.  Then, he’s letting go of you, sinking to the ground.

To get on one knee.

“I know you won’t, y/n. And I promise I won’t be the only one who thinks they have a second shadow.” He smiles at you endearingly.

You laugh at the turn-around of the joke, but you feel hot tears already prickling at your eyes. Happy tears.

“You’ve already heard most of what I’ve wanted to say for so long, so I’ll keep it short and get to what I’ve really wanted to do since you came back into my life. Y/n… Life had thrown us a huge curveball, but we made it out on the other side. Never did I imagine that when I met you again that I would mess up so badly,” he tells you, and you laugh at the memory. “I was just so in love with you, and I didn’t know how to act around you without wanting to convey my love. And then, you called me rude and refused dinner, and even though you were made, you were so beautiful when you were. Of course, that didn’t help me get my thoughts straight because I was so head over heels for you. Then, the next opportunity came to make it right, and I knew I couldn’t miss my shot to be around you again. I’m so glad I didn’t because I know you’re the only person in this entire world that makes me feel the way you do. And, if you’ll allow me again to honor and cherish you for the rest of eternity…”

He reaches into his pocket to pull out a velvet box, not once taking his eyes off of you. Jimin opens the lid to reveal the diamond ring that once made a home on your left hand. Details of his first proposal to you rush in for a moment. Between that memory and the present, Jimin still looks very nervous, albeit in an endearing way, but wears all of his love for you on his sleeve.

“Will you marry me, y/n?” The tears finally escape his eyes as he asks you for the second time, one of the most beautiful questions in life.

“Yes, Jimin. Always.” You sink to your knees in front of him, hands reaching to pull Jimin in for a passionate kiss. He wraps you against him tightly, dropping the velvet box to the floor. You both kiss for what seems like forever between the two of you until you hear a very Hwasa-like cheer from outside the door. You and Jimin, pull away laughing.

He takes the ring out of the box and slips it on your engagement finger. He marvels at it, “You make this ring ten times more radiant,” he grins cutely, earning another laugh from you. “I’m serious! When I was picking one out, I was concerned that I’d never find one that matched your bright spirit, and then I realized that it was impossible. No diamond or gem will ever shine brighter than you.” He lovingly pinches your cheek.

You pinch his in return. “You’re so cheesy. I love it,” you smile at him and kiss him again. “Let’s get married next week. I don’t want to wait too long. I think we’ve done enough waiting.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I’ve already got the best place in mind for our honeymoon.”

“Really? Where’s that?”

He smiles knowingly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are married on the following Tuesday, only five days after Jimin’s proposal. The news of your marriage had hit the papers the next day, thanks to the Parks who were finally happy to see him finally getting married. Between Mrs. Park and your grandmother, everything from flowers to food and cake to wedding favors was planned to perfection. Hwasa called in every favor from the best dress designers in the city to create the most beautiful gown imaginable. It was very necessary, she explained when you had said you only needed a simple gown. And she was right. Because when you walked out of the church on Jimin’s arm on that bright sunny day in June, you looked like royalty in the photos. Many citizens in the city were excited to finally see a big wedding happen again. They cheered and tossed flower petals when you and Jimin descended the church steps to head to the car for reception.

The next morning, you and Jimin left home together when the sun rose for your honeymoon. You briefly rode to the airport, where you and Jimin boarded a small plane. You asked him repeatedly where he was taking you, but he would simply grin and kiss your hand. He was probably much more excited than you, if that was even possible. You felt as if you’d been on a high for the past week since the proposal. Life couldn’t have been any better.

But, of course, it got even better.

When Jimin said you both had finally arrived, you are pleasantly surprised.

Santa Bella Island.

You’d heard about it before from friends and family. Crystal clear, blue waters with warm, white sand speckled with seashells. Pleasant summer weather that was a tad hot during the peak of the day but left a gentle breeze by the time the sun fell in a cascade of pinks, oranges, and purples. The sunrises were even better.

You stood against the threshold of your private villa, drinking in the morning sun as it started to peek from the ocean’s horizon. You sipped quietly on a cup of tea, letting the sun’s early rays warm your skin. Jimin was still sleeping on the bed, body wrapped around the sheets, which were sufficiently wrinkled from last night’s late activities. You giggled to yourself, fingering the silk of your robe.

It was so perfectly peaceful here. Birds chirped happily as they began their morning songs. The waves lapped softly on the sand. The palm trees swayed with ease. Jimin was snoring softly on the bed, his cheek squished against the pillow and lips parted. You couldn’t believe that you get a whole month of this with your husband.

Husband. You smile to yourself. That will never get old. It brings warmth to your cheeks every time you think about it. You murmur the word to yourself, testing out how it rolls off your tongue. It was so strange to say, yet it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your husband must have heard you. Caught up in the sunrise, you’d only heard soft footfalls against the wood floor that signaled Jimin’s wakefulness. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back to rest against his bare chest. His head rests on your shoulder, tilted to nuzzle against the side of your neck. “Good morning, my lovely wife,” and he places small kisses along there.

“Good morning, my darling husband. Did you sleep well?” Your free hand comes up to stroke his hair.

“I did,” he murmurs against your hair. He reaches over your shoulder to take the cup from you and set it on the table. He wraps both arms around your waist from behind you, fingers massaging your skin through the silk of the robe. “Although, I was hoping I would get the chance to wake you up in a very husband-like kind of way,” he says coyly. You giggle, biting your lip. You hold your left hand closer to your face.

The two white diamond rings—for your engagement and wedding—glitter perfectly in the morning sun. You marvel at the striking beauty of them.

“My forever is with you y/n.” Your husband whispers in your ear.

“You’re my forever Jimin.”

[alone-in-a-cafe]

You made an inflammatory post demonizing those who don't live the way you do, and tried to take some moral superiority over them simply because you're more comfortable with slave labor over quinoa than you are people hunting deer, or better yet being smart enough to have a symbiotic relationship with cattle. I'm not surprised in the least you're plugging your ears like a child, and I'd be less surprised if you never reply to this.

Why are you so personally attacked by that post?

I never "demonized" anybody. Consuming animal products has a victim - the animal. It is an inherently violent action, sometimes necessary, sometimes unnecessary. If it's unnecessary, how do we justify that violence when we can choose to be kind?

When did I say I was morally superior than anybody? You said that, not me. Any kind of activism for the vulnerable requires questioning of preexisting beliefs. I can assure you vegans gain nothing out of vegan activism, except mental stress from being so aware of the unnecessary violence around you and people dismissing it like it's nothing.

Oh and slave labour quinoa is not a popular food with vegans, it's actually more popular with the upper class non vegans in the West. Read on quinoa here.

And if you're so bothered by unethical worker practices then why do you still continue to eat meat? Slaughterhouse workers have horrible working conditions, read here.

Also you seem to have this idea that the only people who eat meat in this world are those who hunt for it for survival. I never said a word about people hunting for sustenance, because if you had taken ten seconds to read the definition of veganism, you would know that it calls for avoiding animal products "as far as possible and practicable". So people hunting for sustenance is very much in line with veganism.

The relationship with animals we have right now is not at all symbiotic, as it destroys land and the environment. You're talking about slave labour quinoa? You know that 80% of the Amazon rainforest has been cleared out for cattle farming right? Displacing indigenous communities and destroying indigenous flora and fauna just so you can have a burger?

So no, I'm not comfortable with slave labour quinoa but you seem to be very comfortable with contributing to a violent industry which is destroying the planet, according to UN.

I stopped reading those replies because of your strawman arguments, something I've dealt with multiple times in the past.

I'll repeat, vegans don't gain anything out of activism for animal rights, but the animal agriculture industry gains money by spreading misinformation about veganism.

What you consume stops being a personal choice when someone else suffers from your choice. Yes there is no ethical consumption under capitalism, but if we can choose to avoid harm somewhere then why don't we? Are our personal pleasure and convenience more important than animal lives?

You have no idea about the nuances of veganism as a movement and how it's so deeply interconnected with the environment and with human rights. Please at least read up on it a bit before saying anything about the topic.

If you were so worked up about that post and knew you are right in your choices you could've just ignored it. But sure there's some part of it that stuck with you which made you reply to it and then send this.

Read @acti-veg 's blog and website for more sources on these basic arguments.

[girlwiththealligatortattoo]

Another sad day, and a stain on humanity, as Republican governor Brad Little, of Idaho, has signed a bill to allow the killing of up to 90% of Idaho's wolves. Even pro-hunting groups were against this bill, as it flies in the face of all science, promotes myths and lies, and lines the pockets of cattle ranchers.

I, for one, am SO WEARY, of animals, including wolves, wild horses, cougars, bears, coyotes, sage grouse, and many more, suffering because of the demand for cattle grazing land.

I've worked decades to pay my way daily for my education and the costs that it took to get where I am. And yet my tax dollars, against my will and ethical choice, go to pay for cattle to graze on public lands, and they pay for the murder of all of these animals. I find this to be an egregious abuse of my hard earned money. Let cattle ranchers fund their operations with their own lands and money - not mine.

Most Americans don't realize that they fund cattle grazing on public lands (because hey, that sounds harmless...in theory), but in turn, they also fund the demand of cattle ranchers to round up wild horses, the killing of wolves (as this horrible bill allows), and the removal of other species, along with the secondary deleterious environmental impacts. Most Americans that I know would be appalled to know that they pay to kill so many animals.

I'll continue to fight these horrific practices, through spreading my message of the importance of other animals, through my active writing to political leaders, and through my support of good animal conservation organizations. I think it's very important to emphasize, that we too, are an animal, and EVERY ANIMAL has limited resources. Please consider that if you have a meal tonight, and a roof, you are fortunate, not entitled.

The notion of entitlement in nature is a farce. We live behind a façade of "civilization" full of concrete and grocery stores, and we are far removed from actual survival skills. The human animal has become more of a consumer than a producer. More of a parasite.

Nearly half of our adults in America have metabolic syndrome and fatty liver disease, and the diseases of modernity such as diabetes, heart disease, and even Alzheimer's are directly tied to our consumption. I'm just not sure that our "progress" has truly been what it claims to be.

And I'm sure that an animal that practices this horrific killing for money is decidedly NOT civilized.

No animal outlasts its resources, and that will include us. Every animal is "checked" by nature. COVID should have been a wake up call, but I'm not sure that it has been. I'm very uncertain of our supposed "intelligence."

I sure hope we can turn our legacy around. Let us make our legacy not one of pathetic, greedy consumption. Let us make our legacy one in which we understand our place in this absolute MIRACLE that we call LIFE. Let us cherish, rather than destroy. Let us find balance. Let us walk in beauty upon this earth, rather than take, take, take, take, take...

There are wonderful people out there, who care about other humans, and they care about other animals. To you, I salute you. I honor you. My spirit bows to your spirit. And thank you for being who you are. You are who and what gives me hope.

Shame on you, Idaho. What a great reason for me to stay the hell away when I'm considering where I might want to spend my dollars. I'm utterly appalled. And my soul is devastated. And yet I'm fortified; I'm determined. I will fight these blatantly unethical practices tooth and nail, until my last breath.

Beautiful people. Please stop leaving choices to politicians. Can't you see the blatant corruption in every political party and every corner? The back door deals and not allowing citizens to make the call? These folks are largely bought and paid for by one industry or another. It's disgusting and shameful. But you have power, my fellow American citizen. You have the power of choice. Because it is obviously the almighty dollar that we collectively worship.

One of the absolute most effective things you can do, that would help with so many issues, is to VOTE WITH YOUR DOLLARS. Remember, whether consciously or not, you are making a choice every time you purchase something. If you quit buying it, the demand will drop.

It will be better for the environment, and better for your health. Every dollar you spend on food, whether it is meat or some processed packaged food, ultimately winds up, defining so much of the outcome of your metabolic health. Ultimately, that impacts our healthcare system.

And frankly, to me, a nation of unhealthy people, is a national security risk. And yet we buy their products, make ourselves sick, destroy other species and environments in the process, and then we buy their medications to treat the symptoms. We live long lives, but often not quality lives. Why not just treat the cause? Why not try to ensure your health rather than indulge your taste buds to the tune of "Oh I love this so much and I could never give this up..."

Believe me, I was raised in a family that owned steak houses and churned out good Southern food. I get it. I have a sweet tooth like nobody's business. But let me be clear: when I see, and saw, what goes on, you'd better be damn sure that I can, and will give it up. I will not allow my taste buds and preferences to remain static and override my empathy and my knowledge of healthy choices for myself, other animals, our healthcare system, and for sustainable human life on this planet.

You won't catch me purchasing cattle for consumption. Why?

Because this is no small family raising and consuming their own. Most folks wouldn't know the first thing about gardening or animal husbandry for survival. Purchase of foods in plastic from containers in grocery stores, where everything seems so abundant, has contributed to us becoming a very sick animal indeed, mentally, emotionally, and physically, because we are SO OUT OF TOUCH.

This is big business, with unethical acts involved, that is subsidized against my will, as a taxpayer. And I will take a stand by refusing to purchase their products.

Remember, this is a chain of events that brings them to your plate. The slaughterhouse is horrific, and yet it is only one step in the many, that are casualties of the demand for beef.

Please think about it.

This is a sad, sad mark on humanity.

This bill was about MONEY, not elk, and not other lies they toss at us, most of which we consume eagerly. We turn off our minds, let our eyes glaze over, and eat our Oreos, while binge-watching Netflix. We like to keep these issues out of sight and out of mind. As if they don't concern us. They don't pay our bills, so why worry. I hope we can do better than that. I know we can, if we just try. We can be an amazing and ethical animal.

Let's say no to the blue pill they like to give us. Let's red pill it, folks. Once again, our politicians fail us, while lining their pockets, and big business.

Come on, America. We can do better than this.

[felonybleedenfotos]

Enviromental E-Zine Research

Single use plastic - Something that has been plaguing our planet for a long time. A big killer of marine life and avian life.

Eat less meat - Meat consumption contributes to pollution and the destruction of our planet. When less people eat meat, the meat industry has less work, providing the world with healthier air. Overall, less red meat within your body can slim your chances of diseases like cancer. 

Fast fashion - A vile industry exploiting usually children to create clothes for a tiny amount of money. Usually this issue is ignored as the companies who sell these inhumanely made clothes become popular due to their small prices (primark, shein). 

Poverty - One of, if not the, biggest issues on the planet. An issue we can all work together to help, and billionaires can fix. Though they should, they spend their time not paying taxes and avoiding helping anybody in need. 

Food waste - The act of discarding food that hasn’t been eaten or could still be consumed by another human. Impacts poverty greatly.

My final choice is single use plastic. I’ve chosen this as this is something I see first hand and know that I have contributed too, so in doing this for my project I would like to take the chance to educate myself and learn how to stop or lessen the amount of plastic I use and throw away.

------------------------

What is reportage photography? 

Reportage photography is an area of photography similar to documentary but far more intense. The goal of reportage photography is to have an impact, and make you feel like you were there when the photo was taken or feel the effects of the problem the photo is portraying. 

What’s the difference?

One promotes feelings over education. While both can be educational, reportage is used more to prove it’s point of the damage that the subject can do, whereas documentary is used to educate and usually comes with a paragraph of educational text.

Are some photos not reportage?

Many fall under a completely different category, but it is far more common than most would consider it to be.

Two photographers who shoot about plastic?

Andy Hughes

Dave Bone

Biography:

Andy Huges focuses on the damage that plastic does to the planet. He photographs the damage it has created in varying areas of the world, but mainly within the water. 

Dave Bone specialises in advertising, making him an expert at promoting his images and the effects of what he’s portraying. He commonly portrays the issues around the world with his photographs and has created a whole series on plastic.

[teaboot]

Veganism isn’t necessarily about sustainability, it’s and ethical stance about an animals right not to be killed unnecessarily for the use of humanity. There’s obviously crossover between veganism and environmental activism, but your sustainability argument (which is really questionable - large livestock that get made into leather are an incredible drain on the planet) isn’t going to sway any actual vegans.

Hey, I'm not looking to make vegans stop being vegans. The meat industry is one of the biggest existing threats to our environment alongside being a horrific carnival of animal and human suffering, and I totally support the decision to avoid contributing to it's survival wherever possible.

On the other hand, though, we do need to be able to take a good hard look at all our options and be frank about the practicality of what we have going.

Do I want cows to live healthy, happy lives? Yes. Do I want children on the other side of the world to be able to grow up safe and protected without having to work in sweatshops to survive? Also yes. Can I always have both? No. So when it comes down to the wire, I will always choose people.

And 'veganism isn't about sustainability'? It should be. Because no matter how much you love an animal, it will still die suffering if you force it out of it's natural habitat in favor of a hemp or soy farm.

Industrialized leather comes from the death of an animal, is processed with chemicals and dyes that pollute the water, and is assembled by factory workers.

Plastic comes from oils that are pumped and processed by workers whose health support is cut to the minimum, it releases harmful gasses into the atmosphere, and shreds apart and filters into waterways and animal's digestive tracts.

Cotton and other plant fabrics are genetically modified to be as agriculturally competitive as possible, which forces generations-old farms into the dirt to be bought up by foreign investors (us) who buy it up and use pesticides that are so dangerous to human, animal, and insect health that they're illegal in our own backyards.

We burn down the Amazon to make way for cattle so we can eat meat more than we strictly need to.

We poison entire villages and skyrocket stillbirths and cancers so we can buy clothes faster than we wear them out.

And then we turn around and cut the sustainable hunting rights of aboriginal nations because the idea of them killing things makes us sad.

The sad fact is, there are no morally pure options anymore. We've grown beyond that. There is no path you can take that doesn't cause some amount of pain.

But the way I see it, the pain of buying a second hand leather coat from a thrift store, knowing a living thing died for it, and the pain of buying an acrylic/cotton plastic-coated rainjacket from, for argument's sake, that same thrift store... That's a splinter to a broken finger. And right now, that's the best I personally can do.

[winglssdemon]

While I'm pointing out things that should be obvious, did y'all know vegans are not actually solely responsible for child labor and microplastics? Like vegans don't only eat quinoa and chocolate and only use pleather ( tidbit: a ton of vegans dislike plastic leather because it looks too much like real leather). There are other options besides plastic.

As for quinoa, a bunch of it is used in non plant based dishes. Vegans are not the only consumers of quinoa. Also quinoa is a gluten free grain that is used in gluten free items.

And agave? Yeah there's other sweeteners that aren't agave that vegans tend to use more often, you know like sugar. Plus agave is commonly used for tequila.

Chocolate? Do you buy nestle products or Hershey products? Or Kraft, Cadbury, H&M, the Gap, Forever 21, etc. Unless you're buying the $5+ certified non-slave labor chocolate bars (and i promise you, the majority of people are not) non vegans are also contributing.

Animals that die in vegetable harvests? The migrant workers? Do y'all not eat vegetables? Even if you straight up ate nothing but meat, guess what is fed to the animals???

And if you are pretending to care about migrant farm workers, why don't you ever bring up the problems in the meat industry? The fact that it's dangerous mentally and physically (and especially with covid) and immigrants also work in the meat industry

That brings us to soy! Oh soy is bad for the environment? Glad you think so, just over 70% of U.S. soy goes to livestock with 15% of it going into frying and salad oil. (This can be found on the USDA Coexistence Fact Sheet "Soybeans".)

There is no ethical consumerism under capitalism. Stop getting pissed at vegans for not eating animals and start getting pissed at the corporations using slave labor and taking advantage of people. Dont pretend eating animals somehow makes you above it all.

Here's pre-emptive answers to the questions people like to ask whenever a vegan is in their proximity.

*Cruelty-free is not a real term.* I DO understand the issue with calling veganism cruelty-free so that is not a term I use. And from what I've noticed in the vegan communities the phrase is becoming less and less popular. However, we can't actually stop companies from using the phrase.

*Why don't vegans eat honey????* First, because vegans dont believe in taking the honey from the bees. That's literally the answer.

*Wait I dont actually know what veganism is?* That's okay! Veganism is the practice of avoiding animal products as much as possible. Its generally assumed among reasonable people that things like medicine and vaccines are still acceptable and encouraged. Vegans dont eat or use animal products and aim to do as little harm as possible within the constraints of capitalism.

*Why don't you care about humans?* Did you know it's possible to care about both humans AND animals?

*PETA is the worst!* Yes, they are. The majority of vegans know this already. Did you know the Salvation Army is literally the worst? And Autism Speaks is literally the worst? There's awful groups for every cause.

Edit: Almost forgot!

*Not everyone can be vegan!!! Like disabled people and poor people!* Okay, yes not everyone can be vegan. We know. But don't speak for all disabled and poor people and use them as a gotcha! argument. Im disabled and on EBT, and gluten intolerant. I am also vegan. Also like, you dont have to be vegan to respect others who are.