#usually i like to be contrarian but these are genuine cause i watch them before knowing the public opinion

[andrewknightley]

Me: this movie was so fun such a delight. I had a great time

Letterboxd: 1 star it sucks

Me: this other movie was so so boring and bad

Letterboxd: 4 stars and a half. masterpiece

[cinnaminsvga]

Harana Preview | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, fluff, angst → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, so much yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: what da hell who is she... HEY SO its been a while since ive written anything longer than 2k words and i really wanted to get back into writing, if only for practice... plus this is part of my heart full of hugot series that i teased literally eons ago and i want to finish it before the year ends... pray for my sanity ( ; ω ; )

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture. 

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat. 

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk. 

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you continue, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence. 

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and purse your lips uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away. 

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door. 

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice. 

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off. 

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note. 

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you. 

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole. 

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero. 

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

[sidncymiller]

ayyyyyy friends it’s ya boi back at it again with another caustic, indifferent fuck ( ive got a type sue me ) but this ones like... a little less (ง'̀-'́)ง  and a little more  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  ya feel ??  anyway this is gonna be quick & dirty cause i dont have the bio done yet but theres some basic stats here if ur freaky like that. also she’s more into like.... people as a whole than mal is so ( as much as i love fighting everyone ) i’d love to make some connections w the charas he doesnt interact with or is a cock to !! lol ok i’ll catch y’all under the cut pce out

she’ll answer to sidney but prefers sid (or miller if you’re one of those)

demigirl, she/her pronouns and “girl” as a descriptor are fine, but for the love of god don’t call her a Woman it makes her skin crawl

pansexual but mostly a big tease who cant Seal the Deal, possibly on the ace spectrum somewhere or maybe she just watches too much porn who knows these days

as you may have inferred from her multitude of maybe-kinda-sorta labels she is a Child Of The Internet

bad case of blue and orange morality, thanks to being born and raised right here in sunny fictumterra!! she values privacy, loyalty and free will pretty high, human life and welfare pretty low, like a good fictumterran (fictumite?)

then again she does get pretty bummed out if someone new comes to town and she Digs them and then they get turned into a lamp or hot dog or whatever,,,, weak,,,,

uh she was into gymnastics as a kid and joined the cheer squad in hs just because it seemed like exactly the thing she Wouldnt do and she’s a big ‘ol contrarian

unfortunately!!! she went partially blind in her right eye when she was sixteen and her parents poisoned her and all that time spent practicing balance and spatial aawreness and shit went right out the fckn window THANKS MOM

ok backtracking a litte

her parents were members of a pro-gun, anti-government cult before she was born and got caught up in a teensy little federal building bombing and had to hightail it to FT when one of their compatriots ( fckn coward ) flipped on the group, under the advisement of their Supreme Leader

lets call him Shmavid Shmoresh

he told them to await further instructions, so they set up shop in FT and waited. since they were natural born sheeple, they acclimated to the way of life pretty quickly, and when sid was born she was brought up under the town’s value system, and now im repeating myself

ANYWAY they didn’t hear from the group until sixteen years later when Shmavid was about to be executed and announced that it was time for everyone to Ascend or whatever

so, good followers they were, they made their evening tea and laced it w rat poison and waited for the sweet chariot to swing low

unfortunately they fucked up on sid’s dosage and she survived, though, as mentioned, the poison did fuck with her cortical vision, as well as giving her an exceptionally sensitive stomach

basically she can’t eat too much or anything too rich or spicy bc her stomach linings all fucked, lots of broths and and rice and stuff, everything else comes back up, ya girl got v skinny and has mixed feelings bout that

uhhhh shes like constantly eating sugar tho, usually bubble gum, sometimes suckers or slushies. shes not supposed to but it doesnt make her puke and if she doesn’t see an immediate consequence she doesnt care ALSO she doesnt appreciate your oral fixation jokes i mean youre probably right but get some new material ok

also she still drives??? she refuses to accept that shes blind (ish, too blind to drive, ever heard of anton-babinski syndrome?) and regularly scratches or dents other peoples cars and leaves a note that says like ‘oops’ on their windshield or whatever, she loves driving you cant take it from her get fucked

her own car is a pinto thats so dinged up its basically round at this point

when her parents died there was some contention as to where she was gonna live when she got out of the hospital (not like anyone was gonna call state-run social services) so she ended up being temporarily placed in a pink flamingo room and is..... still there.....

at this point its her place she brought in her own bedding and taped pictures to the wall and installed like 40 locks on the door ok TRY to get her to leave

she works at food world to pay the (internet) bills, but her REAL job (as far as shes concerned) is running her blog ‘memoirs from murderville’ (she was a teen when she named it ok she KNOWS its dumb but she cant change it now cause fckn #branding. trust her, she hates it more than you do)

its essentially a diary that she writes under the name jim sheldon (an homage to the badass author alice sheldon, who wrote under the pseudonym james tiptree jr) about her life and daily experiences in FT with all the names and relevant details and such changed

it started as a stupid joke (and a way for her to disassociate!!! holla) when she was in high school, but then it got a shout-out on some true crime podcast, and then it was in some buzzfeed article, and shit spiraled out from there

everyone assumes its an elaborate piece of fiction and its lauded in certain communities for it’s ‘brutal authenticity’ and ‘delightfully irreverent narrator’ and ‘creative spin on unsolved crime’ and ‘disturbing satire of millennial detachment in the media age’

lol academics are so weird amirite

anyway because of her commitment to the blog she makes it a priority to get to know as many residents and visitors as she can, looking for the best content and recurring characters 

shes kind of a dick and definitely a shit head but she really, genuinely does care about people’s stories (even if she doesn’t care much about most people themselves)

is she a killer??? no. well, maybe. she could be persuaded, probably. for the experience. maybe she’d like it who knows not me

does she have a death wish??? no. well, maybe. a little bit. she certainly values a good story more than she does her own dumb mortality. if it comes down to boring or dead, she’d pick dead :)

ok this got a lot longer than i thought !!! soml !!! if you read all this stream of consciousness nonsense ur an angel thank you !!!

as far as connections and such i would LOVE unknowing subjects/recurring characters in her blog, knowing subjects of her blog who love the attention, friends??? (what a concept lol), OH someone who deeply disapproves of the blog and finds it trivializing??? dangerous??? idk whatever theres lots of reasons to hate it??? maybe they wanna take it down???, LONG TIME RESIDENTS WHOVE KNOWN HER SINCE SHE WAS A KID, maybe someone who took up a parental mantle after her parents fucked off to the great gig in the sky??, uh maybe an ex or ex-friend who was disconcerted by her constant need for action and danger and bailed OR the opposite, one who pushed her a little too far and she had to bail??

idk man the possibilities are endless hmu love yall