#were they intentionally trying to sabotage the product????

[priviie]

One of the low key things about this huge AI push that I truly despise are the commercials. And I’m not talking about the AI generated commercials, tho I hate those too, but the ones trying to sell AI to the layperson.

Every single one of them is awful. They either highlight scenarios that would not happen (those weird matthew mcconaughey and woody harrelson commercials) or are about the worst people on the planet dodging responsibility by using AI. They do not make me want to use AI. In fact, they make me side eye any person that does actively use AI.

Here’s an example, there’s an Apple commercial where it starts with two daughters giving their dad lovely presents for his birthday. They are thoughtful gifts related to time they spent with one another. Then it cuts to the guys wife in the kitchen and she is pouring herself a coffee and ACTIVELY SNEERING TO HERSELF ABOUT THE PRESENTS AND THE WHOLE THING. Then she realizes “oh shit I never bought my husband that I hate a present” and has her iPhone make a really shitty slideshow that she then shoved in front of her husband and daughters saying “oh yeah well I made THIS!”

Who is this marketing for? I do not wish to be like this woman, she clearly doesn’t give a shit about anyone in her family. She clearly resents the whole situation. Why would I want to be like this hateful person? What’s even the message here? “Oh forgot your beloathed spouses birthday? Pretend you care about them and continue the farce that is your marriage with AI!”?

I’m baffled as to how this commercial got greenlit. Multiple people had to sign off on this. I understand AI is hard to sell because it’s a solution looking for a problem but surely they could have done better than this?

Anyway fuck tech companies and fuck these weird commercials.

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH10

Here is chapter ten of my Invisobang fic! We finally get to some Vlad. He'll be more involved in the second fic in the series so don't worry you'll see more of his scheming.

The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the first half of the fic so if you haven't seen it go check out their blog now!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3!

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Vlad had been waiting for this day for years, the day he would finally get his revenge. He couldn’t help the smug smirk on his face. Every step was planned. Nothing would go wrong. There wasn’t anything he hadn’t considered. Not like the last time. Nothing had happened. Apparently he’d acted a little too late in that fit of rage. A little too far into the portal’s production. A little bit of insidious code that would never trigger because Jack would never tidy up his prior work. This time would be different.

The reunion plan had been in progress ever since the idea of having one was even approached by some other alumni. It was the perfect opportunity. He would have Jack and Maddie in a space completely under his control. He would overshadow Jack and humiliate him for everyone to see. Then he’d see about doing away with the fool. There would be alcohol and well it wouldn’t be improbable for the man to go for a fatal car ride. Of course Vlad would be there to pick up the pieces with Maddie. The children were of little consequence. He’d take them for Maddie’s sake but well, if they fell too much on Jack’s side of the gene pool a scholarship to some far off boarding school would keep them out of his hair.

He had each step of the day planned down to the moment. He even stood by the door awaiting the arrival of the pair. However they didn’t. Jack had been so excited to come early to reconnect and yet they’d not arrived early. Vlad frustratedly threw out many mental pages of his plan that involved getting quiet time to reconnect with Maddie while sowing some seeds of descent and interest before finally offing Jack. He’d have to spend more time after the deed was done. It was fine. He could adapt.

At the reunion itself he eyed the clock as his old classmates tried to talk to him. He doubted many honestly wanted to reconnect. They were after his money. His power from said money. Or something else. Why would anyone talk to him otherwise? It wasn’t like they had before. Each hour that went by had him clenching a fist tighter and trying not to show that growing anger on his face. Hide his hand in a pocket where it couldn’t crack his wine glass. Where were they?

Jack was like an over affectionate puppy. Stupid and bad at personal space. There was no way he would have missed the reunion intentionally. He might have forgotten but that was why Vlad had specifically also invited Maddie. She wouldn’t have forgotten. Then why? Why were they not there? If they had to cancel there would be no way the polite, sweet and considerate Maddie would have not at least called to let him know.

That night once everyone had gone home he let that rage out. All that planning and effort wasted. It had to be Jack’s fault. Maybe he had been given the one basic responsibility of calling him and then forgot that. He threw his more physical plans at the fire. They caught quickly and he had to pause his rampage on the office to keep the stray papers from lighting the bookcases. He took a deep breath. Maybe there was a way to salvage this. Maddie would be so apologetic about missing the event. Jack’s downfall wouldn’t be so public but he could still tear them apart and off Jack. Revenge could still be his.

He waited till morning before picking up the phone. Until he could speak with some level of forced calm. He hoped that it would be Maddie answering. He didn’t want to deal with Jack’s loud incessant apologies for a situation he caused. Even after the wait he didn’t think he could keep his cool if he had to talk to Jack.

The phone rang, it rang for a long time before finally cutting to voicemail. He slammed it down without leaving a message. Not even getting to the beep. Definitely couldn’t handle talking to Jack.

He stewed for a while longer before trying again. Maybe they were just working in that ridiculous basement of theirs and couldn’t hear the phone. He glanced at the clock. The children might answer this time. They wouldn’t be in the basement he assumed. One of them could get Maddie. He tried to remember what he knew of them. A boy and a girl. The girl would probably be easier to deal with. She no doubt would be intelligent and cooperative. He dialed the number. It rang.

Click, “Fentonworks!” Jack’s recorded voice bellowed, “We’re either in the lab or hunting a GHOST right now! Leave a message and we’ll get back to you!”

He scowled and hung up again, wincing at the loud, obnoxious recording of Jack. The children are probably out. He can wait. He’s been waiting 20 years, a few more hours would be fine. The phone cracked in his grip.

Another phone and a few hours later when surely the family would be sitting down to eat their dinner he called again. His fingers tapped on the table. If the wood was softer he would have left small divots with the intensity. There was a small part of him that worried. Not for Jack but that once again they wouldn’t answer. It wondered if there had been another reason for why they hadn’t shown up for the reunion. As the phone rang on he couldn’t help but feel a certain dread. Had something happened? He remembered that previous, spur of the moment, fit of rage attempt. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise? If he’d already offed Jack or at least hospitalised him then there was less to do. Not as sweet as if he had been there as witness but he could still swoop in and pick up the pieces.

The phone clicked over to voicemail again.

Surely a concerned visit from a friend after they missed the reunion wouldn’t look too out of place. He hung up the phone and headed for his car. It wouldn’t do to arrive there too early after the reunion.

As Vlad drove through Amity Park the obnoxiously obvious structure that was Fentonworks started to become visible even streets away. The rooftop abomination of technology was a marker of just how close he was to getting everything he wanted. As he got closer he couldn’t help but feel something was off. The imposing aura of a ghostly presence. Cold, intimidating and clearly saying for any other ghosts to stay away. A taste of fear the closer he got.

The streets were mostly clear and nobody lingered long near the house. He pulled up and brushed off the feeling before heading for the door. The ghost was clearly trying to take control of the area but it was nothing in comparison to him. He knocked.

There was a long silence. He couldn’t help but notice the curtains were drawn in every window. He knocked again, louder. Still nothing. Maybe they were just out. He slammed a fist against the door.

“Looking for those loony scientists?” A man asked pausing on the street. He shivered and muttered. “Jeas this place gives me the right heebie jeebies.”

Vlad turned putting a false smile on his face. “Ah yes I am. You wouldn’t happen to know where they are?”

The man shrugged. “Haven’t seen them out much lately, hell I think I’ve only seen the daughter. Surprisingly quiet that lot since the accident.”

“Accident? What kind of accident?” Vlad asked, that could mean anything. He needed to know how bad things were.

“Hell if I know.” The man shrugged, he glanced uncomfortably at the house before walking off.

Vlad looked at the house, the house was the source of the aura. Had they found an actual ghost? Or had the ‘accident’ been more fatal than the man thought. His fist clenched. Fear curled in him. Something happening to Jack he was fine with if a little disappointed over missing it. If something had happened to the children he didn’t mind. However hearing nothing meant that something might have happened to Maddie and that, that scared him.

He sped off, backing up rather more haphazardly than he usually would. His mind kept running through worst case scenarios. Both of them being in the hospital because of the planned malfunction. A worse state if there had been an explosion, Jack could have made it worse easily. The whole lab having gone up in flames. Exploded with no time to escape. The house gutted in one violent explosion taking the whole family with it. All because he messed with the portal without fully planning things out. He parked just around the corner. The window left open as he transformed and phased invisibly through the roof.

The house was dark and unnaturally quiet for a house that Jack Fenton of all people lived in. It was possible that they just were not home but the state of the house threw that into doubt. Inside lay a chaotic scene, the furniture tossed about and broken. Fabric torn and wood splintered. It wasn’t the fiery explosion that he had feared. A ghost attack instead. It soothed his anxieties. He hadn’t accidentally harmed Maddie. However the lack of sign of Maddie was concerning. If the ghost had been bested she would not have left the house like this.

The living room wasn’t much better, no it was worse. Sticky ectoplasm splattered the room like the toxic green had been blasted blindly. Walls were marked with singes. The lab door had been pulled fully off its reinforced hinges. The door was almost completely replaced with ectoplasmic webbing.

He burnt it away, his nose crumpling at the ozone smell of burning ecto. He hoped he’d find nothing down there. That the pair were now at the hospital or something because Jack was injured, just Jack he hoped on the injured front.

The lab was not empty. It was lit by the toxic green light of a portal. A portal that shouldn’t have been active without being set off by his sabotage. His stomach dropped a little. No it had to have been Jack. Wiring was Jack’s job. Maddie wouldn’t have cleaned up after him, right?

The glowing figures of two ghosts were silhouetted by the portal. A figure shifting shapes between spider and a short more human figure drew his attention first. Then to the one that was more shadow than anything else, drinking in the fear and misery that clung to the air.

The emotions were thick in the air. A constant refreshing flow. His eyes fell on the dark cocoons of webs. Four of them. He would have cursed if he didn’t think he would have been heard. He couldn’t leave and risk Maddie having been in one.

He slipped over to the nearest one, he hoped that this one was Maddie. He’d rescue her and then when they were forced to flee from the ghosts attacking then he would still look like the hero while leaving Jack to his fate. He charged a little ecto energy around his hand, using the heat to cut through the threads of the cocoon.

A large weight slumped against him as it tore open. He let the energy vanish from his hand instantly. He stifled a frustrated groan at the sight of Jack’s ridiculously bright orange jumpsuit. The oaf however was not so silent as he stirred.

“Vladdie?” Jack asked with a tone of confusion in his voice.

He scowled, “Jack, please tell me Maddie isn’t here.”

“I don’t know… she got me first.”

“Of course she did.”

“What’s this? An old man playing pretend? You really think you can save them, Mr hero?” He knew that voice.

Vlad scowled. “I should have known.” Spectra. It wasn’t his first encounter with the woman. He detested her.

“Give my family back,” Jack yelled as he charged into the fight with a hastily and foolishly grabbed broken piece of metal.

Vlad scowled, he could leave the oaf to his fate. That would mean leaving Maddie. Jack however could serve as a distraction. It was really all he was good for.

“You really think you can stop me this time, weakened… broken. You’ve already failed your children once.” Spectra taunted.

He slipped to the next cocoon using Jack’s wild attacks as cover. The man didn’t stand a chance but as long as he kept them busy long enough for Vlad to find Maddie then Vlad could let Jack die without revealing his powers. He seared open the pod and there was a moment of relief at the flash of ginger hair as the occupant fell. He caught her. Her long hair cascaded over her face. That wasn’t Maddie. He huffed, at least Maddie would be grateful for the rescue of her daughter.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He heard Spectra far too close for his liking.

So much for Jack being a good distraction. A blast seared towards him and instinctively he raised a small shield. The girl was unconscious so it didn’t matter.

“Oh what’s this? The old man’s a freak!” He scowled, like she didn’t already know that.

“Shut up!” he hissed, if she said more it could become a problem.

“You know what they are right? Why would you fight for them? They’re ghost hunters. They’ll hate you. Show you no mercy. What a fool you are.” Spectra taunted in his ear, trying to feed off of the misery she had once pulled out of him.

He growled and blasted her away, her shadowy body gaining a bloody green tear in her side as she was thrown back. He wasn’t fighting for them. Maddie was all who he was interested in. She wouldn’t find out and it wouldn’t ever matter.

Two more pods, close together. 50/50 chance between Maddie and Jack’s son. A green blast seared past, Jack had found a working blaster. Predictably his aim was still terrible. He hoisted the girl over his shoulder before placing her down to break open the next pod.

Maddie stumbled from the pod, she gripped his shirt for stability. There was blood in her hair. “Madeline? Are you alright? We have to get out of here. Jack can only keep them busy so long.”

Even though he had thrown his plans out long ago this impromptu one was going reasonably close to the plan that he was making up as he went. Maddie gained her bearings quickly and found a weapon somewhere on her person to blast the spider that had Jack pinned.

“Vlad? What… never mind.” She shoved a blaster into his hand. “No time, we’ll talk later. Guard Jazz.”

She charged in because of course she would. No matter how much of a useless oaf Jack was, no matter how much of this was probably his fault, Maddie just wasn’t the type to leave someone to fight alone. He loved her but he really found that nobility frustrating right now.

Spectra hovered in front of him with a smirk. “You know she’ll always choose him. Why even stay? Why protect the child? She’s just as much him as she is her, why protect her.”

“I know your tricks.” He knew what she was trying to do.

“True but can you really fend me off with just a blaster while keeping your dirty little secret?” She lunged with claws drawn. She slashed and grabbed for the girl.

There was a sharp electrical whine, and the lights flickered on. Bright and blinding. They exploded in a screech that seemed so much more emotive than anything electronic should ever have. The final pod exploded in a gorey green mess. He winced knowing that could have been Maddie only moments ago. There was a streaking flare of light as another ghost entered the chaos. Green star-like blasts flew. A stray green blast, the origin he didn’t quite catch threw Spectra away from them. Well aimed, probably Maddie.

The third ghost shot round like a comet, the attacks indiscriminate. A rage swamped over everything else in the lab. Spectra’s currently not so little assistant screeched as blasts bit into spidery legs. It rippled and shifted, smaller and smaller. Maddie pulled Jack out of the way unfortunately. She placed a few more choice shots before it retreated through the lab portal.

“Bertrand! Get back here!” Spectra screeched.

“Who is in trouble now?” Vlad couldn’t help but taunt.

She was surrounded, it would appear her newest underling wasn’t too pleased with her for some reason. Honestly he wasn’t sure why the shifter stuck with her so long.

“Hmpf this isn’t over but I suppose the misery will only be more delicious when this whole mess falls down around you.” she waved it off like she was doing them a favour and fled through the ceiling.

“Hey! You don’t get to run from Jack Fenton like that!” The oaf bellowed as he thundered up the stairs. Only pausing for a moment. “Thanks for the save V-man, we owe you!”

Vlad scowled, Jack was not who he wanted a thank you from. Maddie stood on guard, the third ghost floating above. Of course Jack would leave the current threat to chase after one already probably long gone. Said current threat was apparently not content with fighting off its previous allies. It shot towards Maddie. She didn’t react. She wasn’t going to be fast enough to stop it. Was it her head injury?

He pushed her aside and raised the pistol ready to shoot.

“Vlad! Wait!” Maddie staggered and threw herself between them.

The ghost behind her whined and the lights flickered. It curled round her. It didn’t attack and he couldn’t help the confusion that must have been clear on his face. Was this really Maddie on good terms with a ghost?

[First] [Previous] [Next]

By Spectra, at least for now! She'll be back later for sure. Jazz still needs to get some professional revenge.

[fromtenthousandfeet]

I don’t disagree with most of what you said in your last post, and for the most part blame Bang PD and Hybe for everything leading up to where we are now. The only thing I don’t really understand is that it’s been proven that MHJ was trying to make it so that they were more independent from Hybe and thus Hybe would not actually gain from New Jeans success. Ador/MHJ/NJ’s clearly were not on board for bringing in more for Hybe to ease BTS’s burden, so why give them that credit? From what I can tell, if they had it their way BTS would not benefit from them doing well at all. Criticize Hybe as much as you want, and I’ll be there nodding my head, but I can’t get on board with this narrative that excludes Hybe from being a big reason why new jeans is as successful as they are, or that mhj is more than just another self-obsessed millionaire. The disrespect towards BTS that’s been shown through this whole situation by both Hybe and MHJ really shouldn��t be ignored by anyone who has spent any amount of time or brain space supporting them, and I really hope if nothing else the PJMs that have been cheering this on because they rightly hate Hybe remember that Jimin is part of the group that has been disrespected. You don’t need to cape for any of these people, none of them deserve it.

Anon,

Thanks for your message and thanks for being respectful with your criticism of MHJ. As a woman, I've really struggled with the lazy ad-hominem attacks BTS fans have used against MHJ rather than focusing on actual potential wrong doing on her part. Enough with pedo this and shaman that.

Fundamentally, HYBE owns an 80% stake in Ador. Since Ador is not a publicly traded company, there is no mechanism for outside investors to buy stock/invest in the company. There is absolutely no way whatsoever for MHJ to remove Ador from underneath HYBE. And because HYBE owns 80% equity, they receive 80% of Ador's revenue. The only way MHJ/Ador could hurt HYBE would be to intentionally lose money, which they haven't done. What they have done is build a solid product and brand that continues to be noticed and lauded by the media (Forbes, Billboard, etc.), music critics, creatives, and of course, fans. Also, the ROI on NewJeans is really impressive (see my next post).

In terms of wanting to be independent from HYBE, I suspect Bang PD promised Min Hee Jin autonomy at her label. She probably assumed that she could use her creative vision to create her own group and likely didn't expect she would be plagiarized by other labels under the HYBE Labels umbrella. Complaining about your boss sabotaging your success seems pretty legit and normal to me. BTS fans are quick to say she's made these allegations up, but folks, we've already seen this exact playbook after Jimin's success. BigHit "borrowed" Jimin's visual concepts for Jungkook's Seven almost verbatim. But copying his clothes and photography style is nothing compared to the lengths they went to not only reproduce Jimin's #1 on the BB Hot 100, but also to surpass and devalue all of his accomplishments with that crappy song that wasn't even written in house. BigHit/HYBE damaged Jimin's artistry and his brand value. Sorry, but that's unforgiveable in my humble opinion.

I personally don't see how the conflict between MJH and BSH has hurt BTS. If anything, it's galvanized an increasingly fractured fandom around a common enemy. The conflict has benefited RM the most as the fandom sprung into action in order to "protect" BTS from the witch. Simply look at the lackluster response to Hobi's Neuron and Teahyung's Fri(end)s compared to the response to RM's new album and singles. The fandom has obviously been losing momentum the longer the boys are away and now they have a new reason to be reinvigorated.

In the end, I'm happy to agree to disagree. This blog isn't serious. My opinions are my own and of course I could be completely wrong. Also, I'm not ARMY, I'm just a casual fan who is fascinated by both BTS' international success and the devotion of their die-hard fandom. That said, I think Jimin has the potential to be hugely successful as a solo artist and I hope it happens. It's been a strange and sad journey to watch his own company sabotage him in order to protect Bang PD's ego and artificially inflate Scooter Braun's value to the company.

[tedlassotakes]

Roy (throughout the whole show) was worse than s1 Jamie, considering he actively abused his power and was constantly physically aggressive towards other players while he was still captain and/or a coach. He made rape jokes with Keeley in s1. Just because s1 Jamie & Colin were dicks, doesn’t mean Roy has the right to assault them. Furthermore , while Jamie’s behavior was extremely shitty, he was also being backed/supported by other players, and his behavior was a result of him being abused by his father, and he learns how to grow up and deal with his issues. This is all happening when he’s relatively young as well (23-25?) meanwhile Roy is pushing 40 the entire show and never once stops being physically aggressive, even towards someone he knows was abused. Furthermore, I also think that Ted was equally bad or worse than S1 Jamie, while Ted is never physical with any of the players, and he’s not necessarily a bully to anyone, he’s complicit in letting Jamie and the others be bullies because he just wants Roy to deal with it. He lets the problem build and build until he explodes and yells at Jamie. I also think giving Jamie “The Beautiful and The Damned” is an extremely underhanded thing to do and is just wrong on so many levels. I don’t even want to get started on the whole Zava situation or Ted constantly pushing Jamie back to his abuser. He also let all of the players essentially attack Jamie in S2, and his method of intervention (which came too late imo) was Led Tasso. You could even argue that S1 Rebecca was worse than S1 Jamie because, again, she’s actively abusing her power and trying to make Richmond fail, which would negatively impact every single player under her influence. She’s doing all of this as a grown woman as well. And though she was emotionally/mentally abused by Rupert, her actions aren’t a product of that abuse, but rather her trying to stoop to his level and get revenge on him. Roy, Ted, and Rebecca are all misusing their power and are at least 15+ years older than S1 Jamie, but somehow S1 Jamie is the only one who gets hate? Yes Jamie was a bully and a prick, but we also see him start to try and get vulnerable in 1x06 with the team and be friendly with them, and he’s also actively correcting his behavior all thorough S2 and S3, which we don’t really see Roy or Ted do. He’s not the only person on the show who has emotionally hurt others, and I genuinely think that even in S1, his main intention wasn’t to hurt other people. He was acting how he thought he had to act, and didn’t understand why he shouldn’t be acting that way. Roy intentionally physically assaulted multiple people on the show, including people who were his subordinates, and he wasn’t really reprimanded for that. He also made the conscious decision to make a rape joke, and whether he made to intentionally hurt/confused Jamie or he did it because he thought it was funny, he should know better at his age. Rebecca was intentionally sabotaging the team as well, it’s not like she was doing any of that because she thought she had to or because she even thought that it was okay for her to act like that. She just didn’t care about whether she was hurting the team. And while I would say that Ted doesn’t intentionally hurt anyone either, his obliviousness/disconnect from actually coaching at multiple points in the series does harm the players a lot, and Ted should honestly know better after S1. Especially with the whole Zava situation.

[dojae-huh]

The tour and the solos

Some thoughts on the messy schedule of January-February of 2024 and lack of American leg for NCT Unity tour.

Foreword. I think we, fans, should get used to this order of things. SM gets more and more artists, more and more neos do solo activities. It becomes impossible to dedicate socmed for a period of time to only one unit or a member. It's not just solos. BA work, YT content announcement, magazine pictorials, etc. - these activities also need to be announced, and they break a sequence of promotional material of the member under the spotlight.

Ideally, an album should be announced a month prior to its release. Three weeks is the usual time for SM. Three weeks of pre-release promotional run+two weeks of music shows+a week or two for "tails" (fanmeets, bts yt content, some magazine articles). A month and a half. 4 units, 2 comebacks per year. 8x1.5=12. As you see, a smooth series of comebacks is possible in an ideal scenario and without solos. However, some units have 3 comebacks (+singles/Japanese releases). Some months are bad for comebacks (Olympics, holidays). I didn't include NCT/NCT U/DJJ/solos. Not to mention, members get sick, members get tied by obligations to third-parties (tv-series, BA appearences), and there are multiple possible reasons for delays in production of albums and MVs, multiple ways a "perfect" schedule can go awry.

That being said, a schedule for NCT still can be paced better than we had this winter. I would not like a repeat. I think it is the result of catching up with things (Ten's solo, it was postponed), priorities (Wish debut at SMtown), and Taeyong not having much time left (enlistment) with the need to continue with 127's Unity tour (Tokyo Dome, March 9-10). In addition, both Tae and Ten had BA appearence obligations at the time of their comebacks. Even if they don't take too long, they still affect scheduling of fanmeets and concerts.

─── ��� ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If you browse X, you'll easily see fans believing SM is intentionally sabotaging NCT 127 and some neos (Taeyong and Ten). "SM can't let them become too popular". Such statements are close to a fan's heart, evoke immidiate emotional responce.

Where is the proof and argumentation though?

It is indeed not peachy inside SM right now. Kakao, Hybe are the new biggest shareholders. CEOs were changed. There were talks about the board consisting of only finance guys, and artists trying to fight back. Ongoing investigations of Kakao, SM and Align that helped to oust LSM. A constant mayhem. I don't even go there.

NCT is SM's current bread-winner (together with aespa). After LSM/Kakao/Hybe feudal war SM needs to show investors its 3.0 plan is working, that the company is profitable, it will have money to pay dividents, that despite foreign investors losing interest in k-pop companies and pulling out, and SM stock falling low because of investigations, SM is still a worthy company to trust its money to. Believe in it, and it will come out a winner, and stocks will rebound. Hence, SM needs good sales from NCT and all the members. SM needs money. The company is undergoing a big change and is buying companies in US and establishing new ones for music production&distribution, not to forget SM needs money for the new groups (they will take time with investment return).

Secondly, 127 neos are approaching contract renewal. It is not the time to dissapoint them and make them think of possibly parting ways. Yes, Taeyong now knows his worth and alludes to it in interviews. Who will bring money then? Dream? They have their renewals same year. Who says they won't decide to join their hyungs after witnessing a bad treatment of them?

Intentionally sabotaging the artists, making them regret being signed to the company, simply doesn't make sense in the current situation SM is in.

Taeil had a duet song with an indie artist once (whose company is an SM's sub-label). I consider the video for their song as the bottom of SM's lowered standarts. Nowadays covers get a better treatment.

Now, think of the quality of photoshoots and promotional videos Ten and Taeyong got. Clear concepts were developed, professionals were hired, everything was organised quickly, solutions were found (like wigs for Tae). Both were given a lot of say, their opinion listened to. Taeyong got to perform on music shows the song he likes the most (Moon tour) and the one (APE) he asked to be added to the album after A&R offered him their list. By the way, the quality of print of the latest albums is much better than Resonance.

Fans heard Taeyong used one of his jackets (the white puff one), and run with the story he styled all other outfits and did his own make-up, lol. Since when Taeyong is a make-up artist? As for Loewe, it's how it's done. Brands give clothes to idol companies to be used and advertised, it's benefitial for both parties. Jaehyun is constantly in Prada in recent 127 MVs.

Money on promotion should be spent wisely. Afterall, profit starts only after the expenses are covered. If some type of advertisement is costly but brings little exposure, is not effective, it shouldn't be implemented. It is better to spend those money on something else.

Beyonce can promote her album through one twit, and that will be enough, it is because she has the capital of her name. Fans tend to not realise this about idols. New groups need a lot of promotion to gain fans. For older artists their name does the work, they already have a fandom. K-pop is not for general public, it's a niche product. The 1,2 mln Spotify subscribers on Tae's channel will hear the new album without any special ad. Same applies to subscribers on other music platforms.

Despite Taeyong giving only two concerts in a small venue (Seoul has a problem with venues, this one is used by many k-pop idols), his concert was prepared better than Link. He flew in the air, there was a giant "T" letter, lightsticks were synchronised. Taeyong decided on the setlist himself, he was given full reign over it.

Whatever problems there are on the upper level with higher ups, the staff at NCT centre worked with intention to do right by the artists.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A lot of money was invested in American market. 127 spent a month there. It is not reasonable to just forget about it after the effort brought results. During Link tour 127 spent 2 weeks in NA and gave 8 shows. Meaning, even a short-lasting trip is enough. The more concerts (with the same setlist, props, choreos) a tour has, the more profit and return, afterall. Again, it is not reasonable to shorten it, when it is actually a well enough prepared concert.

So "Why"? I think it is a simple result of "squeze in" approach. Normally, Tae's 2nd album would be released later, but he wanted it before enlistment. If Taeyong enlists somewhere in late March-early April, then perhaps the US leg was sacrificed for his solo. MarkHyuk also need time to prepare for Dream activities, at least 2 weeks, I guess.

To be honest, the lack of NA concerts puzzles me. Japan is more profitable (domes) and more convenient (close), so it takes precedence. Still. Taeyong is the only culprit I can think off, lol.

[wheelercore]

You keep on talking about "clans" and "clansmen" but personally I don't know what discourse you are referring to in this post specifically when you talk about "villainous Will" discourse. I wasn't part of that discussion but personally I think it could be cool to see that. I think you are attributing a lot to me that I personally didn't engage in.

I'm going to be honest w you but this post was just a reaction to specifically one post I saw saying that wills main character trait was "being a good person" (as a reaction to the will discourse) and this was just a vent post about how that disregards what I believe is the main point of the show in general and its that people are a product of their upbringing. I did not really expect this post to be reblogged by quite a few who agreed with me since I'm a fairly small blog, but whatever. The main point I was trying to get across really was just about the characters in general, rather than just Will, even if he was the source of the discussion in the first place.

The pushback started because Will was blamed for El's disastrous diorama presentation in 4x01. Rather than question the writing, the clan claimed Will sabotaged El, because if he's truly kind then he'd be invested in making sure she succeeded academically. Not sure I trust the metric of kindness used by people who believe Henry killing children qualifies as such.

I did see the original post you are referring to here and I can only speak for myself when I say I personally did not agree with the analysis when I read it. Honestly, I just think Will wanted to support El and didn't want to break her heart by telling her she couldn't do the project on Hopper since she was grieving. You could argue that it was still wrong of Will to let El embarass herself like that, but that depends on how much a person values blunt honesty over protecting someone's feelings. From my perspective there was no insidious motivations behind Will's choice but it was a post by someone I personally liked so I thought "okay they just have a different interpretation than I do, moving on".

So just to make it clear, I don't think Will trying to protect El's feelings is equal to vecna murdering a bunch of teenagers lol, but why vecna believes a bunch of teenagers is a necessary sacrifice (or mercy) to acheive his goals is a whole other post. But I don't find it difficult to hold both nuanced opinions on Will and Vecna while thinking that Vecna is... pretty bad (as portrayed in s4, we will see what happens in s5), but I think you're approaching my post as if you believe I would have trouble with this.

However, it's a trend that your clan is incapable of holding the Duffers accountable for their writing choices, instead treating characters as sentient beings to compensate. This includes judging characters for what they didn't do and interpreting, in bad faith, what they did do.

El was intentionally set up to fail. By the writers.

I mean, I don't think the duffers "need to be held accountable" or that will is a sentient being who needs to be held accountable either, I just think Will didn't want to break El's heart. Again, I think you're projecting a lot of your general feelings for other peoples opinions onto my post.

At the end of the day, you all return to the same tired points about morality and ethics, acting like this has never been discussed, because you're desperately trying to frame Henry as Will's equal or better. We've already discussed not even months ago or a year ago but years ago about how Henry and Will are foils, distinguished by their upbringing and support systems.

Sorry for making a tired old argument i guess, but you were free to scroll past rather than spend the time to type up this response to me. but ok.

Again, this post was just meant to be a reaction to people having a knee jerk response to someone having a negative interpretation of their favorite blorbo. Because really my attitude is that Stranger Things is a criticism of how the roles of "heroes" and "monsters" are given to people based on deeply ingrained biases in american culture against those that are considered unpalatable (american eugenics being sourced as the inspiration for the nazis hence the portals at the end of s4 forming a mega swastika), and the show makes the case for people who are mentally ill/traumatized. So to me personally, Vecna isn't equal or better than Will, I just think its a self perpetuating tragedy. But of course the main theme and message of the show is just a "tired argument" among fans.

My biggest crime here is being a pretentious asshole about a TV show but I don't think will byers is evil for letting el fail an assignment. I am not the guy to argue about this with.

The "is will a good person" discourse making its way onto my dash tonight like a shark circling my little clown boat 👍

[waifstarion]

Im very interested about the whole jared bullying Misha thing.. because i always heard about it but i never really got to actually see it or read about it

there’s actually a lot of things that have happened over the years that jared (and jensen) have done to misha. i’m only going to list a few of the most jarring ones, as there’s far too many to remember.

jared and jensen make many comments about misha intending to demean him. these range from calling him an awful actor, talking about how weird he is, how he’s expendable, how he and his character are easily replaceable, that no one wants him around, etc. these comments happen frequently, often weekly thanks to panels. while some people try to pass this off as banter/teasing, misha often seems uncomfortable and doesn’t always retaliate. a lot of these things are said behind his back. even worse is that they are said to a crowd that hates misha and has actively threatened physical violence against him. J2 are well aware of this vitriol, as misha has had extra security at cons bc of these threats on multiple occasions.

when misha had his directorial debut in s9, j2 intentionally sabotaged it wherever possible. they shredded what they believed to be his only set of director’s notes (misha luckily had a copy bc he anticipated j2 pulling a stunt like that) and they would intentionally screw up takes to delay production and cause him more stress. it got to the point where they had people driving up to see misha having a breakdown over everything they had done (3:00 mark). the entire story starts around the 2:00 mark

misha’s directorial debut is also when jared and jensen pulled the prank that he considers the worst out of all of them. they intentionally delayed shooting so pies could be brought out, then pied misha. jared, however, did it with such force that he nearly broke misha’s nose.

jared regularly distracts misha and intentionally screws up his takes. misha has told him many times that he dislikes it, and that it makes him look unprofessional

jensen and jared intentionally make schedules of “pranks” to pull on misha that stretch over weeks of time. jensen stated that on day six or seven, they intentionally had no pranks planned so they could laugh at misha being paranoid and on edge for the entire day because he was expecting a prank. the clip is around the 11:52 mark

jared once poured $600 worth of coins in misha’s car, which he used to transport his kids. this actually rendered the seatbelts unusable, which put misha in danger. jared actively acknowledges that misha’s first son had just been born and he had no time to get it fixed, so he’d been driving around with no seatbelt.

jared loosened the screws on the bike rack on misha’s car. misha had to sit him down and explain to him that it could have killed someone.

jared once rear ended misha’s car because misha took “his” parking spot. in response, misha parked his car close to jared’s driver side door so he would have to get in through the passenger side. in retaliation, he let all the air out of misha’s tires, which led to misha calling caa so they could fill them. he considered having jared’s car towed while they were there, but jared came out before that happened. he then informed misha that if he had towed his car, he would have totalled misha’s.

tl;dr jared frequently picks on misha, and takes pranks way too far, to the point of putting misha and others in physical danger. while j2 will tease many people, they have explicitly said that they intentionally target misha “just because he’s misha” (12:20 mark). this creates an incredibly toxic work environment.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 6 – Everything Happens in Its Own and Usually Most Inconvenient Possible Time

Chapter 1     Chapter 5

The gala was going better than anticipated.  Despite feeling like she stuck out like weed in a field of flowers, things seemed to be going well.  Marinette had talked with more people than she could remember and they all seemed to walk away happily and interested in her work except for a few pompous assholes who couldn’t keep their eyes off her growing chest.  Admittedly, she was showing more cleavage than she anticipated, but she was blaming that on the baby that was enlarging her chest already.

Luckily, she had Adrien to watch out for her and keep them from doing anything more than just look. More importantly, Tim seemed impressed with her designs for the gala and could pick out the outfits that were hers. That was two big checks for the night. The rest of her life might be going to hell, but at least this night was going smoothly.

Whereas she felt like she was an imposter in the ranks, Adrien seemed to blend into the crowd seamlessly. Laughing sensibly at the right times, sharing knowing looks that confused Marinette with the other party goers, smiling politely at the right bad jokes.  He led her to the right people to get to know and whispered in her ear the right things to say to them.

She watched Adrien flourish and felt a twinge of guilt.  This was the product of his dad.  She was benefitting from Gabriel’s abuse toward Adrien.  She grabbed Adrien’s arm to get his attention and looked up at him with sad eyes.  He gave her a soft smile and excused them politely from the conversation they were in. “It’s okay, Mari.  I’m okay,” he assured her.  He looked back out to the crowd.

“How about a fun one next?” he urged her.  

Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile and nodded.  If he could do this then so could she.  He was doing this for her.  She could hold up her end.  She nodded and smiled politely at people as she passed.  One woman lit up at her so Marinette stopped to talk to her, letting Adrien continue on without her.  After a very amusing conversation with a breath of fresh air named Selina Kyle, Marinette searched for Adrien in the crowd.  Luckily, he hadn’t wandered too far away.  She caught his attention and he turned to her with a wide smile.

“And this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette, this is Richard Grayson.”

Marinette looked over to the new man, still trying to keep all the names of people she had met already. There were too many names.  There was no way she was going to remember this new person’s name.  She looked in the new man’s eyes… familiar eyes and a familiar but strained smile. Why were those eyes familiar? “Fuck…” Marinette let out before she could stop herself.

Adrien froze.  Richard froze.  That name wasn’t right.  That definitely wasn’t the name he had given her.  Did he give her a fake name?  

“Uh, hi.” Dick offered with a strained smile.  “It’s nice to meet you. Dick Grayson.”  He wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but if she was in a relationship with Adrien, he wasn’t going to intentionally destroy it despite the twinge in his heart. That would explain the hasty exit from his apartment though.

“He is Bruce Wayne’s son,” Adrien gently reminded her, “Tim’s brother.”  

“Fuck!” Marinette groaned out louder. Tears were starting to appear in her eyes.  This could not be happening.  Not here.  Not now. She was not prepared for this conversation.  She was supposed to be networking for her job, for the partnership and her store. She did not have time for this!  Why now.  Why after all their searching and attempts to retrace her steps did it have to happen now?

He was Tim’s brother and Bruce Wayne’s son.  One of, if not the richest man in the world and the current holder of her exclusive contract.  Dick was going to hate her.  He was going to think she trapped him into this.  He was going to think she was a manipulative bitch who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children and take the baby away and never let her see it.  She would only get to see him or her or them whenever Richard took them out in public.  The baby was going to get a new mother and would call her ‘Maman’.  And what if that new mom didn’t like having a stepchild?  What if she didn’t love them like they deserved?  What if they thought Marinette didn’t want them?

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked quietly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marinette exclaimed shaking her hands to release anxiety.  She could no longer breathe and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes.

“Mari?” Adrien looked between Marinette and Richard a few times before a realization set in.  “Oh my God.  He said his name was Dick.  It’s him! It’s ladybug shirt guy!” He said with a smile.  “We found him!  I’m telling Chloe.  She is going to die.”

“No!” Marinette jumped at him to grab his phone, attracting the attention of the people around them. But at this point, Marinette no longer cared.  She had more important things to focus on.

“Well, I have more mingling to do and you,” he pushed Marinette toward Dick hard enough for her to stumble and Dick to reach out and steady her, “have some talking to do.  Good luck.  I won’t go too far.  Let me know if you need me… for anything...”  He looked at Marinette sincerely with his last statement before giving Dick a less friendly look.  “… anything at all.”

Marinette looked up at Dick through her lashes.  Her fear was radiating out of her and it made Dick want to wrap her up and hold her until she smiled.  “How… how have you been?”

Marinette looked around them noticing now close everyone was and a few people who were leaning back expressly to eavesdrop.  She eyed them warily and responded loudly enough for them to hear, “We haven’t caught up in a bit.  Let’s go somewhere and talk where the music isn’t so loud.”

Dick followed her eyes and nodded, leading her out of the ballroom and into the closed section of the manor.  He could feel the apprehension as she walked, making him nervous as well.  He didn’t know what was about to happen but he could tell it was significant.  He just didn’t know if it was good significant or bad significant.

“We should be good here. Nobody but family is allowed back here.” He looked around anxiously as if to confirm, but really it was just something for him to do, something to focus on besides her.  “I was hoping to talk to you after… after that night but realized I didn’t get your number.  I tried going back to the club to look for you, but...”

“It closed.  Yeah… I tried going back to the club, too.” Dick brightened up at that.  She had searched for him too.  It wasn’t just him that wanted to try for something more.  “I wanted to maybe just show up at your door, but I think I was still drunk when I left and…,” she scrunched up her face in uncertainty, “I saw all the weapons on the counter and when I heard you waking up in the bedroom, I just ran.  I didn’t pay attention to where I was.  And then I thought about the weapons and thought… maybe I shouldn’t.”

The realization hit Dick and he cursed under his breath.  He was going to kill Jason.  “My brother is paranoid, Jason not Tim, who you apparently know.  Living in Gotham is bad enough but he… we get targeted a lot so he… those were his weapons, not mine.  I swear.  None of them were mine and they normally aren’t even there, I just wouldn’t let them take them to the club,” he rushed out to try to assure her.  

Her eyes searched his. He held his breath praying she found what she was looking for, or not finding it, depending on the question she was trying to answer.  Whichever answer let him talk to her again, he hoped she found it.  After a few moments, she must have found some answer because she gave him a weak smile and nodded slightly.  Dick let out the breath he had been holding.  She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Dick would take it. He could work with it if she gave him a chance.  He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  Now he had a chance, what was he going to do with it?  “So… how have you been?”

“Pregnant,” Marinette answered quickly, instantly regretting not saying it more sensitively, easing him into the realization.  She had freaked out, it stood to reason that he would as well.

Dick’s eyes widened in shock and his breath shortened.  He looked down to her belly and back up to her face.  A look of panic was plastered on his face.  He was not ready.  How did it even happen?  He thought they had used precautions.  And he had provided the condom and put it on so it wasn’t as though she could have sabotaged anything.  Holy shit! He was going to be a dad.  How was he going to balance that?  How was he going to be a dad and Nightwing? Shit!  He couldn’t take care of himself.  How was he supposed to take care of a child?  He was pretty sure they ate more than cereal.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette rushed out seeing his whole body going into shock.  “I’m so very, very sorry!  I swear I don’t expect anything.  I don’t… I didn’t… This wasn’t on purpose.  I swear!  I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.” Tears were now freely falling down her cheeks and marring her dress.  Thank God she had waterproof mascara but the water stains were still making their mark.

“How…”

She chuckled mirthlessly. “Did you know semen leaks out before the… end?  Cuz’ I didn’t.” She wiped tears away as she spoke.  “Or rather I did, I just didn’t think it was enough to do anything.  But, if you’re truly lucky, that’s enough.  So if you wait to put a condom on until just before… the end, you can still get pregnant.”

“And you… you’re sure…” He didn’t know how to ask the question tactfully.

She drew a sharp breath and looked down wiping away a few more tears.  “Yeah.  I… I broke up with my boyfriend a little under a year ago.  There… um… there hasn’t been anyone else since then.”  

He nodded dumbly.  That was pretty conclusive.  Unless there was a sudden case of immaculate conception going on, that was his baby.  “Okay.”

She turned her eyes to him, her expression somber.  “I didn’t… I don’t expect you to do anything, not participation, not child support, nothing. I just… I thought you deserved to know even if you don’t want to be involved and I understand if this is too much for you.”

Dick looked up at her in surprise.  She was giving him an out.  She wasn’t expecting him to be a dad and help take care of them.  But for some reason, that realization only made his heart clench tighter.  Did he want an out?  Did he want to miss out on his child’s upbringing?  All of their firsts?  Their first step.  Their first summersault.  Their first word.  Their first laugh.  Their first breath.  

He didn’t.  He didn’t want to miss out on those things.  He pulled himself out of his spiral to see Marinette starting to turn away to leave.  He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far away and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly.  “I want to be involved.  I want to be there.  I want to help.”  She froze for a few seconds before hugging him back just as strongly.  Her crying increased in his arms and he held her through it.  He wouldn’t let her go through any part of this alone, not anymore.

“I don’t know what you need, but I want to help provide it for you and… and our baby,” he said gently, pulling away just enough to wipe away her tears.  

She nodded at him, turning her eyes up to match his.  Dick felt his chest tighten.  Her eyes were glassy with tears but still gorgeous and captivating.  He moved the hand wiping the tears to cup her face. His thumb gently stroked her cheek. He leaned down toward her but her hand clasped over her lips before his lips could reach them, blocking his way. Her eyes bugged out and she ran to the trash can before throwing up.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, collapsed on the floor next to the trash can.  “And morning sickness has officially begun.  And it’s early.  Just so much luck.”  She looked up at him with an apologetic smile.  “Sorry you had to see that.”

Dick chuckled lightly, “Well, I did want to be there for all the firsts.  Come on,” he gently grabbed her hands to help her up, “let’s get you some water to rinse out your mouth and cleaned up a bit.  If you want to stay, I’d love to escort you around.  If you’d like to go home and rest, I’d love to take you home.  If you want to go somewhere and talk, I’d love to take you wherever you want.  But either way, can I get your phone number… and last name?  I want to help figure things out with you.  Maybe… if you’re interested… maybe go on a first date?  If you want to try for a relationship…. I mean… I understand if you don’t want to risk…”  

His stuttering cut off when she started giggling.  He looked up to match her eyes, a look of hope finally finding their way back into them. “I would really like that, too. And it’s Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  It’s nice to officially meet you, Dick Grayson.”

Chapter 7

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

Werewolf Thomas x Merman Sammy.

This might end up taking multiple chapters, in addition to me digging in too deep, this ship in general just gives off a petty enemies, to reluctant allies due to supernatural circumstances, to ‘hey you’re not as bad as I thought.’, to friends, to lovers vibe.

Occam's razor indicates that the simplest explanation to a scenario is also the most likely scenario to be the true one.

For example: when an animation studio suddenly closes down and gets condemned, people who are on the outside looking in are much more likely to blame the studio's poor money management than go look for some extraordinary truth. That, paired with the workers of the said studio also coming out to site the terrible conditions of the place as an added cause for the studio's demise. When people have to work long hours with little pay to show for it in a dingy, gloomy, constantly-falling-apart studio that clearly wasn't going anywhere except six feet under or lower, they aren't exactly motivated to work hard or happy.

The Hunger was intense, growing beyond mere gnawing and was now consuming the cursed mechanic. The first change he felt was his teeth, the Curse deciding it was easier to make them all fall out at once so his new ones would grow in. He cut up his own tongue on the newly-made fangs. Call it an act of mercy or an act of mockery, but the tongue followed the teeth's example, falling out altogether so that the tongue of a wolf could grow in.

No one batted an eye when a majority of the studio's former workers left with some of them being untraceable, the lucky ones moved on to greener and happier pastures, others simply got a change in scenery, and sadly, accidents happen all the time in such an unsafe studio, people got severely injured in there all the time, so it was gut-wrenching for many, but not a shock to discover that it was common for unlucky people to lose their lives in the Dancing Demon's domain.

His entire body burned on the inside and outside, taking off his clothes did nothing for him as his new, thick coat grew in, a coat that was the same pitch black as his hair, at least, most of it was. The change did not hurt as much as he thought it would. As painful as it sounded when his bones became a crackling choir that reminded him of fireworks, it was not pure agony, he was sore, afraid, and so, very, very, hungry, but he was physically fine.

No one suspected anything like somebody intentionally sabotaging the many pipes that pumped ink through the entire building, that would just be silly! It was more than obvious that the pipes got the same treatment as the rotting wooden walls: they were ignored until it was too late. With all the wood, paper, flammable ink, candles, no windows, and avid smokers in that place, it was only a matter of time before that place went up in flames.

Colors began to dim and fade out leaving him with vision that could only see black, white, and the several shades of gray inbetween them. The trade off with his senses made itself clear as his sense of smell and hearing both grew stronger, he could barely think as the smells and sounds his human self had been blind to came to him at full force, overwhelming the mechanic. He held back the urge to scream and call for help, he knew none would come, unless it was the dogcatcher at this point. However he would not hold back the urge to whine, whimper and cry, as pathetic as he looked and sounded, he would at least give himself that mercy, even if he didn't deserve it.

No one thought the ink machine was anything more but an expensive and stupid project that definitely sped up the studio's already fast decline, but only with it's mere presence. Honestly, a machine that made models out of ink, wouldn't it be cheaper and easier to make a statue of your beloved mascots out of plastic or something like that?

Thomas yelped in surprise when the tail grew in, it felt like somebody gave his spine a good sharp yank. He was furious, scared, even remorseful as he knew he was responsible for this happening to himself and possibly others knowing Mr. Drew, and by god, did he want to sink his teeth into something.

No one except for crazy cross-clutching worrywarts who want to spoil every one else's fun and or conspiracy theorists would assume that the Little devil darling who graced the comics and silver screens for at least a decade would have literal satanic magic going on behind the scenes, no matter how screwy the man in charge seemed.

He was starving all day ever since the ritual, but now that the changes were over, he felt hungrier than ever before, like his stomach was a black hole that would make him consume everything in his path.

No one would ever seriously suggest that magic was real and led to being the studio's final nail in the coffin instead of becoming its savior like it's founder had wanted it to.

In the moment, Thomas Conner believed that Occam's razor was bullshit.

The mechanic knew what he'd seen, he knew to an extent what he took part in, he saw what happened to some of the unluckier members of the "Missing" studio workers, and most importantly of all, he experienced what he just went through. There was no 'simple' or 'normal' explanation for it; the ritual failed and as a result, he and a handful of other people had gotten cursed.

Here the new wolf was, squeezing his now much larger body underneath his bed to do nothing but cower like a frighted animal while trying to convince himself not to panic or to eat his pet snake. Keeping his human mind at the moment was both a blessing and a cur- -some extra salt to rub into his fresh wounds.

On one hand, the fact he was still smart enough to know better than to jump out the window and follow his nose for food like his instincts were telling him to was a lifesaver that kept him safe from animal control. On the other hand; if he was a beast in mind, he would at least be doing something more productive than sulking in his apartment thinking about anything else other than how badly he got fucked over, how his life was in shatters and how he had nobody but himself to blame for it (Well, aside from Joey, but that wasn't the point).

While far from ideal, his current plan was to remain under that bed, try his best to go to sleep, and occasionally chew its legs to stop himself from going on a rampage. He might not be the most supernaturally informed person, but he had seen enough werewolf horror flicks to know that nothing good would come if he gave into his hunger or if he tried to leave. Best case scenario; he'd become as sick as a dog after eating something he found in the garbage. Worst case scenario; Somebody decides that he'd make a great living room rug and BANG!

And then, his ears perked up as he heard the song.

It was a simple, repetitive tune, made with a music box maybe? It was the first time he heard it yet it felt familiar to him. The song itself was muffled, used a lot of ambiance in its melody, and if he strained his ears enough, he could almost pick up the sound of a voice singing along with it, but it was far too faint for him to tell who or what was singing, let alone what the lyrics to the song were. It sounded nice in spite of it's strangeness, but it gave him goosebumps. He knew it wasn't playing from the radio, he only kept it on when he was fixing something at home.

The curious wolf struggled to push a window open with his snout to figure out where it was coming from. He was making progress, the song did sound slightly less muffled now that he was poking his head out the window. Was it just him, or did the tune become faster? And it was also louder and more frantic, and he swore that the constantly repeating motif sounded like something he knew. The mechanic never considered himself to be a man with a keen ear for music, but he knew he heard it before.

Three short notes, three slightly longer notes, three more short notes, again and again and again repeating endlessly...---...Wait a minute. Thomas didn't recognize that pattern from a song, he recognized that that was a call for help!

"Don't do it..." He grumbled to himself as he put his paws up on the windowsill. "You don't know what'll happen, or if you'll even get there in time. Just go back inside and you'll figure out what to do with yourself in the morning."

The song, almost as if it was aware he was trying to ignore it like he was ignoring his hunger, grew louder and faster.

"Don't give in..." The wolf turned back. "You can't help anyone like this anyway, you'll only end up hurting yourself."

It... started to die down, back to its regular, chilling melody and grew even softer. Flickering away like a candlelight in the cold.

"Don't..." The wolf let out a very tired sigh as he looked out the window. "Oh fuck me."

Thomas leapt out the window and sped towards the source of the song, not caring who or what saw him in the city that never sleeps, he bolted directly into the forest. He tried to block out the new sounds of various creatures he couldn't hear before as well as the new smells of the earth underneath his paws and the plants all around him.

Strange marks were on the ground, they looked like someone dragging themselves through the dirt and the marks themselves smelled vaguely of fish and ink.

The song, while faint was very close, he was hot on the mysterious caller's trail! In fact, the wolf's new sense of smell started to become useful as he picked up some familiar scents in the woods; the smell of ink, smoke from a fire, and the smell of cologne- Wait, he recognized that specific cologne, it was that fancy European brand that the "missing" hot-headed music director used to keep himself from smelling like cigar smoke, vomit, and despair.

And the voice of the singer in the distress call 'song' did sound like him now that he was close enough to hear it. He felt a pit of dread in his stomach that almost made him forget his hunger. He knew that the musician was far too prideful to call for help for anyone unless this was his very last option and his will to live made the difficult task of overpowering his ego.

Squelch.

Almost confirming his fears and adding a new one that he was too late, the mechanic made the mistake of looking down and saw that he stepped on a severed leg. A black, tar-like substance that smelled like ink and rotten meat was squeezed out of the part of the thigh that should've been attached to a person.

"...Mr. Lawrence?" He hesitantly called out, thankfully getting him an exhausted groan in response. "Lawrence, where are you?"

"Here." A hoarse yet relieved sounding voice answered. "Look down."

The wolf looked down into a shallow pool to see what had become of the musician. If he was being honest with himself, he wouldn't deny that the music director was always easy on the eyes, and while the curse effected him drastically, that fact about him didn't change.

The water was clear enough to show off the musician's jet black, fish-like tail which glistened in the moonlight, the still human half of his body went through some changes as well; his hands were webbed and clawed, unlikely to properly hold any instrument, let alone use it, his torso, arms, and neck had patches of black scales scattered about haphazardly like splashes of paint on a canvas. Aside from the siren's new set of teeth (which looked like they could haunt anyone's nightmares), waist-long hair when it was previously shoulder length hair, and glassier eyes, the man's head seemed relatively unchanged.

"Could you stop gawking!?" Sammy re-positioned himself to keep his tail out of sight, or at least he tried to, the damn thing was two thirds of his body and he didn't exactly have something to cover himself up with. "I'm not exactly 'thrilled’ about this... Change, for lack of a better term."

"That's one way to put it." The mechanic almost let out a sympathetic chuckle. "I’d never thought I’d be saying this, but it’s great to see you haven’t died yet.”

“Why thank you.” The merman sarcastically responded. “That’s exactly why I went through all the trouble of literally singing my fucking lungs out!” He exclaimed while gesturing to a pair of charcoal-black things that the wolf previously thought were rocks. “To hear you tell me that ‘it’s great I haven’t died yet’.”

The wolf rolled his eyes.

“So why did you go through all the trouble for summoning me here then? Aside from the whole ...fish thing, you seem perfectly fine.”

“It... wasn't intentional.” The fish-man begrudgingly admitted, his voice sounded bitter, but his eyes shone with fear. “I wasn’t thinking about who or what would hear me or come at the moment. My body was falling apart before my eyes and all that was on my mind during it was; ‘Oh god, I’m going to die here, aren’t I?! And if not, my life will be ruined beyond repair!’. And when I sang out as a panicked response, you became the first to show up. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The siren swam to the other side of his aquatic prison and sighed resignedly.

Tom’s ears folded back in guilt, It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the musician was cursed by the failed ritual HE played a giant part in. As strongly as he disliked the musician, it didn’t feel right to leave him like this; alone, scared, and immobile in a place that could even spell out his death if he was unlucky enough.

He walked over to the other side of the pool and laid down beside the edge of it.

“Hey, you don’t need water to breathe, right?”

The siren looked confused.

“I’ve been breathing air just fine, in fact, I think one of the few advantages to this new body is that it replaced my old lungs with healthier ones. Why are you asking?”

“Climb on my back and I’ll take you out of here, granted, I don’t know where we’re gonna go, but where ever it is, it’ll be better than sitting around waiting for your pool to dry up.”

The merman, while hesitant, did climb up on the wolf man’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck to keep him from falling off, the wolf stood up and ran deeper into the woods.

[missmentelle]

TW Suicide Attempt

Hey, I don't know who else to ask. I'm seeing a new therapist and I want to start fresh. I'm particularly haunted by my last relationship, and I'm not sure if I was abused, but I'd like to mention it to my therapist first if I was.

My ex started out normal, but after a while he asked me to delete pics with my exes. I thought nothing of it, because I didn't care if I had the pictures or not. I also used to be a model, and he asked me to delete nudes, and I did. Then he said I should stop modeling, and I agreed, even though I wanted to model. And then he made me take down non-nude modeling photos, and made me delete them off my hard drive. And would get mad if they were on a USB that I forgot to check, or if some were online because photographers didn't want to take them down (as was their right per our contracts). He'd stress me out, tell me to talk to everyone who had my pictures, etc. Then he asked me to throw out things that were my exes (presents, stuff that was theirs originally but they gave me, my stuff that I had left over at their houses), and after that, all my modeling clothes and prints. I didn't want to and we got into a huge fight. I generally don't raise my voice at all (actually I speak so low most people have trouble hearing me), but I did that time and every time it came up until I finally threw everything out. And then one day I found a sex toy his ex had left over (she had left over all her stuff and never picked it up, but he swore he'd thrown everything out), and I flipped out because it was in the nightstand we shared, just buried under stuff. And I felt gross and used, and well, he made me throw out all my exes stuff, even silly stuff that had no feelings attached and was just nice to have. And we had a big fight. We used to fight a lot at first, and it's all blurry, I just remember once he pinned me down, and choked me so I wouldn't leave, so the next time when I wanted to leave, I hit him with a perfume bottle (he was fine, didn't even get a bruise or anything).

And after he agreed to move to another place (a neutral location), things kind of calmed down, although we did fight once and neighbours heard. I don't know what to think because everyone says I abused him, and his family even blocked me after the break up.

Everyone thought I was unfair and treated him badly. I definitely don't see that, but I'm not sure if he abused me or not.

Most of the time I complied because I didn't have any place else to go, and didn't want to be homeless. When he broke up with me I attempted suicide and ended up hospitalized and later homeless anyway.

We had some happy times though, bug I just don't know what to think. I just feel weird and haunted and anxious after this relationship, and I'm scared to ever be in one again.

Oh, and I'm the anon who just asked if maybe I was abused by my ex. I forgot to say he didn't want to go to my parents house because he knew one of my exes stayed over when I was alone, and he didn't want me to go visit them often.

He also made me cut out everyone on my life who I ever dated, kissed/made out with, or had a crush on.

And he'd get mad if my family displayed my model photos, or photos with a vintage family dress that I wore as a model in a photoshoot with my ex.

He'd also complain if I made plans with friends, because I was going to spend too much money, or stay out too late, or walk home late at night (which I did frequently before).

He was abused by his previous girlfriend (or at least that's what he told me, he said I could look at the messages between them if I wanted, but I refused).

He also made me throw out my favorite top because he knew it's what I was wearing the last time I had sex with my ex before him (we were friends before and I told him, and he had seen me that night, so he knew what I was wearing, and it was a very very specific top).

For starters, I need you to know that what you’ve described is an extremely abusive relationship, not just a “possibly” abusive relationship, and I think it’s important for you to know exactly why that is:

He got violent with you. This alone is enough to make the relationship dangerously and severely abusive. Your ex pinned you down and choked you when you tried to walk away from an encounter. That’s an actual felony; people do prison time for that. Choking is a particularly dangerous form of abuse - he could have very easily killed you or caused some permanent damage. 

He couldn’t handle the fact that you had exes, and he dealt with it in the least healthy way possible. Your ex-partner’s obsession with your exes was beyond unhealthy. Forcing you to throw out perfectly good clothing or non-sentimental items because they had some association with your ex is unhinged. In a healthy relationship, both people understand that their partner is not with their ex anymore, and trust that the other person isn’t going to fall madly in love with their ex again just by using a toaster that the ex once used to make breakfast. Being able to cope with the fact that your partner once loved and had sex with someone else is a bare minimum requirement for a healthy adult relationship. No exceptions. It seems clear that you were never going to reach a point where he felt you’d done “enough” to purge your exes from your life - he was going to keep obsessing and keep whittling away at your life, without ever being satisfied that you were truly “his”. 

He was dangerously jealous. The level of jealousy that your ex showed was abusive, and potentially life-threatening. As I’ve already mentioned, it’s not normal for a partner to be fixated that hard on a partner’s ex. It’s also alarming that he was so obsessed with the fact that revealing photos of you might exist somewhere. You are allowed to have photos of yourself on your own hard drive, nude or otherwise. That’s your fucking business. You don’t have to justify keeping those photos - no one has a right to tell you to delete them. Not even a partner. You did nothing wrong here. It sounds like he couldn’t handle the fact that other men found you attractive, and he decided to punish you for it. That’s not okay. 

He was controlling. In a healthy relationship, you are allowed to wear what you want. You are allowed to decide which possessions you want to keep - even if that includes hanging onto old gifts from an ex. You are allowed to meet with friends, spend your money, and stay out late sometimes if you want to. You are allowed to model if you want to, and you are allowed to have photos of yourself on your own personal devices and give others the right to use and display those photos. It’s a bare minimum requirement that a partner treat you like an adult and respect your choices, even if they don’t always agree with them. The level of control that your ex tried to have over your life was absolutely unacceptable, and it was abusive. 

He intentionally sabotaged your career. You had a career as a model, and you enjoyed doing it. He made you stop. That’s not acceptable. Your partner couldn’t handle his own jealousy and insecurities, so he made you stop doing something that you were good at, something you did professionally. That’s another form of control, and it’s abusive. In a healthy relationship, partners support one another’s careers and passions. They don’t intentionally derail the other person for their own selfish reasons. He had no right to tell you to stop modelling, and he had no right to demand that you delete the products of your work. 

He socially isolated you. He kept you away from your friends and controlled how often you could see them. It sounds like he might have intentionally turned some of your loved ones against you. That’s a common tactic of abusers. When you are cut off from friends - or when they are no longer on your side - it’s harder for you to leave the relationship, because you no longer have someone to turn to for help leaving. In a healthy relationship, your partner encourages you to have friends and to make them a priority in your life. 

He made you responsible for his emotions, and held you to a double standard. Whenever HE was upset, YOU had to drastically change your life to suit his feelings. When YOU were upset at finding his ex’s sex toy in the nightstand, he got angry with you for being upset - he didn’t make changes to his life for your comfort, but expected you to do it for him. That’s not okay. A partner who is unwilling to take responsibility for their own emotions is a dangerous partner - and sure enough, he turned violent when you got upset with him. A healthy partner recognizes that their emotions are their responsibility, and they deal with their insecurities without taking it out on their partner. 

He trapped you in a situation where you could never win. Your abusive ex was fixated on things that you could never change - the fact that you had exes, the fact that you modelled, the fact that other people had old modelling shots of you. There was no way for you to ever change those things; you couldn’t go back in time and un-date your exes. So he just kept holding those things over your head, forever. He found a way to keep you in check by permanently trying to hold you accountable for things you did in the past that could never be changed. He made sure he always had the moral upper hand in the relationship, as a way to keep you down. 

Moving forward, I think it’s important for you to understand that you didn’t do anything wrong here. You are allowed to have exes. You are allowed to own things that you exes once touched. You are allowed to model. You are allowed to have photos of yourself. None of those things make you a bad person or a bad partner, and you should never have to apologize for any of them. If your ex had a problem with any of those things (and he clearly did), it was his responsibility to either deal with those issues on his own, or leave the relationship if he knew he couldn’t handle it. He did not have the right to stay and mistreat you. This is on him, not you, and there is absolutely no excuse for what he did. 

Whether or not your ex was abused by his ex-girlfriend is irrelevant here. It might not even be true - many abusers feel intensely victimized when their actual victims resist their control, and it’s very common for abusers to falsely claim that they were “abused” by the partners they terrorized. But even if it is true, it doesn’t matter. It’s not an excuse. There are no excuses for abuse - not mental illness, not addiction, not “anger issues”, nothing. There are no “get-out-of-being-a-good-partner FREE” cards. If someone is in a place where they are at risk of harming their partner, it’s up to them to get therapy and to avoid relationships until they are prepared for a healthy one. 

I think it would be a good idea for you to talk to a professional about what you experienced. If possible, look for a therapist who specializes in helping survivors of domestic violence. If you don’t have access to a therapist, contact a domestic violence agency or hotline, and see if they can find you some resources for free or affordable counselling. A professional can help you unpack what you experienced, work through the trauma, reach a deep understanding of how relationships should function, and prepare to move forward with healthier boundaries and self-esteem. 

You can also find online support groups for survivors of domestic violence - these groups can help you connect with other people who have had similar experiences and understand what you’ve been through. It can be a great place to get support from others and share advice for working through it. You can look for groups through Google, or on social media platforms like Facebook and Reddit. 

It’s also okay if you need to take some time - or a lot of time - to work through this before you feel comfortable dating again. That’s normal. That’s okay. Focus on building a life that is comfortable for you. If you want to return to modelling, that’s an option you can explore. You could pick up some new hobbies, look at going back to school, or reconnect with the friends who’ve been supportive of you through this. Some people find that art or journalling can be useful for working through these feelings - you could give that a try. Spend some time focusing on rebuilding your self-esteem and comfort in your own skin, and don’t feel pressure to start dating again until you feel ready.  Best of luck to you, MM

[rwdestuffs]

RvB0: What went well, what didn’t, and all the in-between.

Since RT is making this a bit easier by releasing the complete seasons in long videos, this is arguably something that probably should be done to wrap up the whole thing, and maybe see how far the series has come.

Red vs. Blue: ZERO is arguably the most divisive season of the entire series of the show.

Now obviously, people are very resistant to change, but whereas the prior seasons had change that was received to varying degrees of positivity, it was overall, positive.

So let’s go over some history to better understand what happened.

The main aspect of the original Reds and Blues, intentionally or not, were based off of gaming stereotypes.

It’s WAY too long to describe here, so here’s a link to how it works: [here]

Seasons 1-5 is basically a showcase of these gamer stereotypes. Displaying them as their base personalities and grows them as these new characters.

The whole entirety of Project Freelancer is pretty much a deconstruction of gaming tropes. The AI are Lootboxes that give an edge to a player, they have leaderboards, and they go into lobbies with lower level players to basically flex all over them.

The Chorus Trilogy has an arc deconstructing the concept of these types of team battles, pointing out how it never really amounts to anything except profits for the one side that’s basically the third party (Think Mann Co from TF2).

Season 14 is basically a celebration, so we’ll skip that, but keep in mind Meta vs. Carolina, it’ll be important later.

Season 15 is basically an attempt to revive the series. Maybe a documentary on prior pro players, and how people might try to exploit them, or how people may have lost their streaming careers to some of the players humiliating them, but that’s a stretch. There is no real tie to gaming here, or during this arc. This is where the whole thing starts declining. A lack of actually tying it to a gaming trope arguably makes it much more different than the previous seasons.

So, where does RvB0 stand in all this? Well, it is a bit of a return to form by being a previous pro player wanting to get a new squad, but having to now adapt to a new team.

But the way we’re introduced to them is jarring. This isn’t some episode of DEATH BATTLE. We should get to know who these characters are by their interactions with one another, their dialogue, and their actions. But let’s take a look at what gaming stereotypes we’re working with here. we already covered Florida, and the Director is basically these guys’ sponsor who basically caused all of what happened. Carolina is the streamer who gets mad at losing her top rank, York is the nice guy who probably helped set up other peoples’ streaming equipment and is just a friendly guy to be around in general, South and North are what happens when someone gets a rare item from a lootbox and the other doesn’t, etc.

Shatter Squad, is unfortunately, a lot of repeat gamer stereotypes.

West is basically the dad who is an ex-pro trying to make sure his team succeeds, like Florida.

One is the competitive pro who doesn’t like having her top spot challenged, like Carolina.

Axel is the resident Cool Guy™ whose exploits are told by anecdote or flashback. Similar to Tucker, except minus the sex jokes. Or maybe he’s like Wash, in the sense that he’s an ex-pro who got out of the game but keeps being dragged back into it by other circumstances (maybe financial).

East is the new player, much like Caboose. She thankfully is different enough by way of being the stream mole who helps out the other team by sabotaging the team she’s a part of.

And Raymond is the guy who thinks that all his tech and equipment will give him an edge over his opponents, much like most of the Freelancers who had an A.I.

The action is actually good, except for one scene. The scene where East (temporarily) kills Tucker.

Like… Torrian. Torrian. Meta vs. Carolina is my favorite episode of season 3 aside from Hulk vs. Doomsday, and you have him go down to a dagger? You pretty much animated an epic fight scene with all the Reds and Blues in the RvB0 advertisement that really should have been Tucker vs. Jaune as a means of joint advertising- I’m getting off topic here.

The new characters are also a point of some good and some bad. Obviously, you can only do so much with the OG characters until it becomes stale. This is why Dragon Ball is starting to get boring. It’s also why Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure is still going strong. But trying to diversify the cast isn’t going to go well with a lot of the original audience. The most progressive thing the Blood Gulch Chronicles did was have Church challenge Simmons’ stereotypical comments regarding Donut. Change won’t go over so well with the audience.

In addition, the passing of Tucker’s sword to another character wasn’t going to go over so well without a big fight scene over the sword. Again, Torrian: YOU MADE Balrog vs. TJ Combo, All Might vs. Might Guy, and Blake vs. Mikasa. Out of everyone on that team, you of all people would have been more than qualified to animate a cool fight sequence that would showcase Tucker stopping East from just stabbing him. I know that the research is left to other people, but one of the big things about the characters is that they tanked a bomb worth a few dozen megatons of TNT… And Tucker goes down… To a dagger.

The fight sequences of RvB0 are great. I’ll say that much. But after every fight, I fully expected Wiz and Boomstick to come in and explain why the fight went down the way it did. Though, that may be due to me actually being interested in RT because of DEATH BATTLE… For better or for worse…

The dialogue wasn’t that great though. A lot of the humor falls flat, and the only joke I legitimately laughed at was when a member of Shatter Squad (One IIRC) responded to Carolina’s bold and serious declaration of “We have to save Lavernious Tucker��� with “Who’s Tucker?” This is a series where the comedy comes from dialogue. So slapstick and physical humor don’t land as much, and the whole thing of them making reference to their situation doesn’t let a joke land as well as it could.

People are used to the head bobs of prior seasons, so the expressive gestures is super jarring and actually makes dialogue harder because you have to accompany it with the gestures. The limitation of what they had in season 1-5 is what led to innovation. Limits are how you make something extraordinary. So the freedom of actual gestures makes the overall product feel less like RvB and more like Torrian‘s equivalent of RWBY. He wanted to make a bunch of cool fight scenes. Which like… He had the perfect place to do that: DBX. Want a character who can generate a clone and uses a bladed weapon to fight? Uh, Noob Saibot is right there. You could have him fight… I don’t know, maybe Shadow Jago? They both utilize darkness, it would be fun.

Regardless, I honestly hope that wherever Torrian takes his talents, that he’s going in a place that he likes and that can keep him and his family comfortable.

RvB0: It’s a mess, it hardly really connects back to the OG Reds and Blues, and while the new characters breathe a new life into the series that was sorely needed, it probably wasn’t what people expected. This changing of the guard type of story doesn’t really work when the previous guard doesn’t pass down the mantle.

Also, Carolina constantly calling Wash by his real name just feels like some random pandering. It used to be special that you didn’t know what the real names of the Freelancers was, but the constant use of it just feels like something to just be there to constantly use.

But hey, if you liked it, more power to you.

[lesbian-vmin]

I would love to have an analysis on 1) vmin airport moment from feb 2019, 2) the mama rose thing from dec 2019 and them being loud in general towards the end of the year, 3) the lack of vmin vlive, 4) the mystery of vmin being clingy af to the point that tae apparently calls jimin whenever the latter's out alone but still not knowing about jimin's vacation details until they met for bon voyage 4 (??), 5) an analysis on bv4 as a whole. thankuuu in advance

Sure~ I’d love to talk about these things! 

For the airport moment, I assume you’re talking about this one: 

If not, feel free to correct me, but this is the one I’m going to be talking about right here. (all points below the cut - be ready for a long post)

Number 1 - The Airport Moment

This moment was particularly cute to me just because it’s one of those moments that seem so unnecessarily soft. If you don’t look very closely, you might not think too much about it. When I view moments like this without trying to analyze them, I just think, “aw what a cute moment.” And that’s it. I can always turn on an analytical mind, read too much into things, and seem completely delusional to anyone who might think there’s nothing going on. So let’s get to that, shall we?

First, let’s talk about that shirt. I love the colors in Taehyung’s shirt, and I mean...come on. Does that not look so good on him? Like, damn. Maybe it’s the hair, too.

Moving on. Jimin and Taehyung were just standing next to each other at the start of this moment. They weren’t even right next to each other. There was a bit of distance between them, which is possibly why Taehyung grabbed onto Jimin and pulled him closer.

The thing that really caught my attention, other than how obviously soft Taehyung was when he pulled Jimin closer and put his arm around him, was how Jimin seemed to have a very subtle reaction to it. I don’t know if he was signalling something to Taehyung or not, but it almost seems to me like he was trying to point out the fact that they had cameras on them.

After Jimin’s subtle reaction, Taehyung removes his arm from Jimin and adjusts his messenger bag on his shoulder. The response to Jimin’s reaction seems a little like Taehyung’s just trying to act normal, and like he wasn’t just gazing lovingly into his best friend’s eyes, trying to pull him closer.

This whole moment in general feels a little too personal to me. If Jimin had just let Taehyung pull him close without any reaction, I don’t think it would have looked so suspicious. The two are best friends, and they get away with pretty much everything. But (if there is anything going on in between them) I get the feeling that one of them always knows when something feels a little too intimate, and signals to the other to let them know somehow. If that’s the case, this may have been one of those moments for Jimin.

Number 2 - Mama Rose

That is this moment right here, and this is another spectacular, noteworthy moment between the two of them.

This part is especially cute to me because it’s during Mikrokosmos that they do this. The part specifically is during the lyrics of “you’ve got me” and “i’ve got you.”

Maybe it’s nothing specific, but the lyrics being at that time, and Jimin deciding to approach Taehyung with a rose is particularly cute to me. We already know that the two are there for each other through thick and thin, so this moment really feels a little more than Jimin just being cute with Taehyung for the ARMYs.

Also...can’t see Taehyung’s eyes because of his long ass hair in his face, but just the way Jimin is looking at him and smiling. And then you have Taehyung’s little smile there, which only creeps up after Jimin reveals the rose. Then Jimin can be smiling more once Taehyung starts to smile.

Even if this was partly meant as a fan service, you can see that they both clearly enjoyed that little moment. It was so soft and their reactions are so subtle but appreciative, and these are the Vmin moments that I live for.

Number 2.1 - Loud Vmin End of 2019

So Vmin were pretty loud during the end of the year, and they’ve been quite loud throughout a lot of this year, too.

I honestly think the production of “Friends,” might have something to do with it. They were probably working on it since 2019, so it would make sense. 

Vmin have been a fairly muted pair throughout the history of BTS. Their moments are often cut off camera, for some reason. They’ve talked about wanting to do a song together but never getting the chance (other than their early days 95z Graduation song). One of the most daring examples being the Christmas song that Taehyung wrote with the intention of singing with Jimin. We hear about them hanging out all the time, but it’s something that we hardly get to see. They say they are best friends, but they only let us see so much of that. So its seems to me like they want to keep certain things about their friendship private. Despite people thinking “Friends” is commercializing it

It’s possible that the company finally allowing them to sing a song together has pushed their more recent moments together. If the company took any part in concealing anything about Taehyung and Jimin’s friendship/relationship, it’s possible that they’ve decided that some things are acceptable for them to show. It’s also possible that Big Hit (not Vmin) realized that Jimin and Taehyung’s friendship is something they can capitalize on, so they stopped concealing things and stopped editing them out and allowed them to show their closeness more. Not necessarily saying that Vmin aren’t close, but that they weren’t allowed to show certain things before that they are being allowed to show now.

Number 3 - Lack of a Vmin Live

This is such a controversial topic because we always get one of them saying that they want to do a live with the other. Honestly, it’s more Jimin saying that he wants to do the live with Taehyung, but Taehyung seems rather reluctant to do the live with Jimin. This really started around the time that they stopped doing their Mandago thing that they used to do (oh how I miss those days). The Mandago live series were the cutest Vmin lives there were because they were (usually) alone in them, and you really got to see how close they were.

Ironically, around the same time that the dumpling incident happened (maybe) because I think it was around the time that Taehyung was filming Hwarang or wanting to get serious about acting, Jimin had his first Mandago live that was supposed to be without Taehyung. During the live, he stated that Taehyung didn’t want to join him. Taehyung was supposed to “stop using dialect”, so he didn’t want to do the mandago series with Jimin anymore. Despite Taehyung (on Jimin’s word) saying that he didn’t want to be in the video, he ended up crashing the party when Jin and Jungkook showed up. Jimin, being the softhearted boy that he is, eventually let Taehyung in. Although he caved and let Taehyung in the room, I really got the feeling that Jimin was irritated because Taehyung said that he didn’t want to be in the live but then showed up after Jin and Jungkook.

I got the feeling that something similar happened in the recent live with Jungkook where he and Jimin were making kimbap. There was just something off about the way Jimin reacted when Taehyung called during that live, and it got me wondering if a similar thing happened. Did Jimin invite Taehyung first? But then decided to do the live with Jungkook because Taehyung wouldn’t do it with him? Did Taehyung get the notification for the live, and decided to interrupt Jimin’s time with Jungkook? Is that why Jimin reacted the way he did when Taehyung called and didn’t really converse with him much? Was he pissed off about that? Or was it something else?

I think that Jimin genuinely wants to do a live with Taehyung, but Taehyung keeps refusing. The reason I get that feeling is because Jimin brings it up all the time. Jimin doesn’t seem like the sort to sabotage Taehyung and say that he’s refusing to do the live when he isn’t. So I think he’s genuinely refusing to do the live, and that’s somehow something that okay for Jimin to talk about without creating any riffs between him and Taehyung. He even put Taehyung on the spot by asking him during a live once to participate in a future live with him. I don’t know what that’s all about, but maybe they’ll get their live one day.

Number 4 - Clingy Vmin but no vacation details???

If you watched Bon Voyage 4, you would know that the BTS members had a personal vacation before their work vacation in which they would be filming BV4. When they were all getting ready to start the vacation on the show, they were talking about what they did during their personal one. Taehyung and Jimin reportedly didn’t speak and Taehyung didn’t seem to know many details about Jimin’s personal time.

You can look at this as either 1) they were lying, and they did talk, and Taehyung was only pretending not to know any of the details, or 2) they didn’t talk and Taehyung really didn’t know anything.

Okay, so let’s go with point number 2 because why would they lie about it? So what if they communicated and knew the details of each other’s vacations? Namjoon and Yoongi admitted to texting each other every day, so there shouldn’t be a problem if Vmin did the same, right? So we’re going to set the far fetched point number one aside for now and go with number two.

Vmin act incredibly clingy, and they claim to talk all the time on their off time. They talk about facetiming when they aren’t together, so it honestly seems like they have so much of each other. If point number 2 is true, it’s possible that this was an important break from each other. They may have intentionally not communicated just for the purpose of having time to focus on themselves. Regardless of what their relationship is - friendly or romantic - sometimes time apart is important to keep the relationship going strong. So, if they truly didn’t talk to each other during their vacation, I think that’s probably way.

After all, when they got back together, they were right back to their clingy selves, and they released the song “Friends” in which Jimin says he wants Taehyung to stay with him even when the cheers are gone.

Number 5 - Bon Voyage 4

I’m going to briefly mention BV3 because I want to compare the two different seasons together. In BV3, Taehyung didn’t join BTS right away because he had something to take care of at home. I heard that it was his grandfather passing, but I’m not sure the exact reason. Anyway, when he did join, he and Jimin were given the chance to be paired up basically every day. They were really close, and it seemed that Jimin was trying to be the support that Taehyung needed at the time.

In BV4, the case seemed a little different. Like mentioned in section number 4, they were on vacation just before filming BV4, and Vmin were on their own, personal vacations. They weren’t entirely together in this one like they were in BV3, but they still managed to be together when they found the chance. I’ve only watched BV4 one or two times, so I’ll have to rewatch it again to list every moment, but I’ll talk about the things that caught my attention and stood out enough for me to remember well enough to talk about now.

Jimin and Taehyung got to share a room/sleep together twice. The first time, Taehyung was already asleep in the camper, and Hoseok basically gave permission to Jimin for them to share the room while he and Jungkook used the bed upstairs. The second time was in the house that they stayed at, and Jimin practically made sure that one happened. As Taehyung was one place behind Jimin (or the other way around, I can’t remember for sure) in the game that they played to decide the order in which they would choose rooms, they were supposed to choose one after the other. Jimin wanted to take the bigger room, but Taehyung wanted the smaller one. Instead of arguing or taking the room he wanted, Jimin decided to go with the smaller room so that he was sharing with Taehyung. He didn’t say that’s why he chose the room, but it’s obvious and completely not delusional to acknowledge that that’s why he chose the room that wasn’t the room he wanted. Because the person he shared it with was more important than the room he got. (x)

Another moment that particularly stood out to me was the night that they were all deciding what they would do with their next day. Each of the members chose things that they wanted to do. I think Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, and Jungkook all did the same thing. Namjoon spent the day by himself and worked on music. And Taehyung wanted to go horseback riding. Jimin didn’t seem to have a particular thing in mind, but he knew that he wanted to go with Taehyung. Whatever Taehyung was doing, that’s where Jimin wanted to be. He didn’t want to ride the horse, but he went. Because it was Taehyung that he wanted to hang out with. And maybe after spending all of their vacation days apart, he just wanted to be with Taehyung again. (x)

I hope that I covered these points somewhat to your liking. Or at least covered enough of them to satisfy. Thank you for the ask!

Let’s talk about vmin!!

[tsthrace]

clexa + jail + college + activism

Thought I’d repost the whole story here for those of you that don’t do ao3.

9,500-word one shot No content warnings Enemies to lovers Break up/Make up (sort of)

Sneak peek: “Why do you even care anyways?” Lexa shook her head. “You’re almost out of here. Aren’t you going to Ireland or something.”

“I don’t care.” Clarke’s voice returned to its sophomore octave.

“Well, you certainly like to spend a lot of big feelings on something you don’t care about.”

“Someone.” Clarke swallowed. Her head was tilted down but her eyes drifted up to Lexa’s, the blue endless like the middle of the ocean.

Lexa bit her lip. “Clarke…” The softness in her voice was no longer commanding.

Clarke felt a jump in her chest.

Madness

She had been stripped. She had been probed and prodded in places even lovers had never gone. She had been assigned a number by a male officer who referred to her only as “inmate” and refused to look her in the eye. She had been given a sandwich of dry bologna and moldy bread and a styrofoam cup of yellow-tinted water.

But none of that was worse than the manic smile on Clarke’s face.

“Can you calm her the fuck down?” The woman who asked had a tangle of long brown hair and dark circles under her eyes. She couldn’t stop her fingers from fidgeting, and her eyes scuttled from side to side like she was watching a tennis match on fast forward.

Lexa rolled her eyes. Kettle meet pot.

“She’s not with me.” Lexa threw a sideways glance at Clarke who paced the wall of bars in the holding cell. Lexa kept her face flat, but she felt her heart pounding. 

“What the fuck, Lexa!” Clarke's sharp voice rang off the cinder block walls. She didn’t stop pacing, that empty, wild smile still spread across her face.

The fidgety woman let her eyes rest on Lexa for a split second. “She seems to know who you are, sweetie.” Her eyes took off again.

Lexa rubbed her eyes hard. What was left of her eyeliner smudged across her fingertips. This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go. She was supposed to give an inspiring speech to tens of thousands of people in green shirts, rousing them to a roar no one in Exxon Mobil’s Houston compound could ignore. Drone shots would capture the magnitude of the gathering packing Springwoods Village Parkway so that every road into the campus was blocked—no one would get in and no one would get out while they were there. They had been planning it for months. Every move was choreographed. The timeline was carefully managed so as to be inconvenient but not unsafe for the people inside. But then Clarke’s Extinction Rebellion infiltrated. They brought superglue, chains, locks, signs, and 400 of their own people who were also highly choreographed, though their timeline was, well, flexible. Indefinite.

“We can spin it,” The words tumbled out of Clarke’s mouth like rocks in a landslide. “This is a win, Lexa. It’s a win. They’re already working on it. It’s already on the news.” Her eyes looked nowhere and everywhere, alive and wired to the point of vacancy.

“Seriously, what’s wrong with her?” The woman’s glance bounced back and forth off of Clarke.

Lexa didn’t know. A battle was waging inside her. Clarke had sabotaged the biggest day of Lexa’s career. She had commandeered her protest, her cause, undermining its legitimacy and stealing its power. Lexa was angry. But she was also worried. In all the years she had known Clarke, she’d never seen her like this. 

---

They met at UVA in their Approaches to Environmental Politics course. Clarke, a sophomore who had no business being in the upper-level class, was paired for the final project with Lexa, a senior who was just trying to get through her final semester. The project was broad and ambitious: plan one action that would have a meaningful impact on the growing climate crisis in the United States. It could be anything: legislation, corporate policy, activism. Break the action down into manageable parts. Be detailed. Account for opposing factors.

Lexa’s concentration was Environmental Policy, but she was tired. She wanted to find the plan with the fewest variables, the least amount of pushback. A major corporation like Walmart calling for biodegradable packaging in all their stores. Google switching exclusively to sustainable energy for their data center operations. Lexa hated capitalism. She faulted the constant profit and growth it demanded for getting the world into the climate crisis in the first place. But she knew, for the purposes of this project, that working within capitalism would be easiest. Being “green” was in; big moves in sustainability would be a PR dream for these corporations. And it wouldn’t disrupt the lives of the general public.

Significant change with little pushback except from the most radical in the movement. And then Lexa could graduate.

“We block railroad tracks all over the country, so that coal trains can’t get where they need to go.” This was Clarke’s idea. “We chain up to each other as blockades on the tracks. We set up camps around those blockades as a system of support and to control the narrative when the media arrives.”

It turned out that Clarke was one of the radicals. She had a dozen ideas and a hundred unconventional approaches to each of those ideas, and they all boiled down to massive disruption for the sake of an ultimate good. 

“If this plays out and all your dreams come true, millions of people will be without electricity.” Lexa rolled her eyes. “All you’ll have is a bunch of people resentful of your movement. That’s gonna be the narrative.”

“So you just want to sell out?” Clarke returned the eye roll. Her face still had the soft roundness of a girl still trying to become a woman. Her voice seemed an octave too high. “You want to work with the people who created the mess in the first place?”

“It’s not selling out, it’s being realistic.” Lexa wondered if she had been so naive when she was a spry underclasswomen. “Besides, do you know how many contingencies we’ll have to plan for? National guard. Fox News painting us as lunatics. Working class railroad workers pissed that they can’t do their jobs. Do you think they’re gonna get paid when the trains aren’t moving?”

“This isn’t the time for incremental change, Lexa.” Clarke’s eyes darkened in a way that startled Lexa. “This is a crisis. We could be at the point of no return in a decade. People need to make sacrifices”

“This is a final project for a college class, Clarke,” Every word came out slowly, deliberately, quietly. Clarke didn’t know her well enough yet to know that Lexa getting quiet should set off alarms. “I just want to get an A and be done. You can save the world after I graduate.”

“You don’t even care, do you?” Clarke’s face looked more sad than angry.

“I do care, Clarke.” Lexa sighed. Clarke’s words stung, and it surprised her. “And I plan on doing the actual work when I get out of here. So can we please just make it easy on ourselves for now?”

“If you cared, you’d take every opportunity you get to make a difference.”

The next six weeks were a string of arguments, eye rolls, and unsatisfying compromises. Their final product earned them a B-minus. On the last day of class, Lexa strode out the door without even a glance in Clarke’s direction. 

But then UVA gave her the best package for grad school, and she found herself on campus for another two years. Her first year of classes kept her far away from the undergrads. She’d seen Clarke a few times in the coffee shops on the edge of campus and once at the library, but had always managed to keep her distance. For some reason, the sight of Clarke gave her a vague sense of guilt. It picked at her like a vulture picks at roadkill. 

But Lexa’s fellowship required her to TA her second year. The thought of teaching Intro to Poli-Sci made her want to claw her eyes out, but Lexa made sure it didn’t come to that. She engaged in a quiet networking campaign in which she happened to be at the same bar as the dean and then somehow got herself invited to dinner at Dr. Gudmundsson’s house. The professor’s children were delighted by her explanation of why rain happens. The following week she was assigned to assist in the professor’s Sustainability and Adaptive Infrastructure course, a high-level class that required more support of student research than actual teaching. 

Adaptive infrastructure had become Lexa’s speciality during her grad studies. Intentionally building entire cities from their sewage systems to the top of their skyscrapers in the image of its people’s shared values would require not only intellect but power, and Lexa was both smart and ambitious. 

She almost didn’t recognize Clarke in the second row of desks on the first day of class. She looked different. Her face curved more sharply towards her chin, her jaw line harder. Her blonde hair had been long two years ago, but now it barely reached past her ears in a scrappy bob. There was a steadiness in her eyes balanced by a glimmering intensity. She hadn’t become a woman so much as she had become so much more herself. 

Clarke noticed her, though, and threw a dismissive smirk at Lexa before she turned to square her shoulders to the front of the room.

A wave of irritation rolled through Lexa when she realized she was biting her lip. She sighed. At least they wouldn’t be assigned any final projects together. Besides, maybe Clarke’s approaches had gotten more sophisticated. Maybe she had grown up since the baby curves on her face had melted away. 

The first assignment proved otherwise. Lexa graded all the weekly assignments, and Clarke was furious with her six out of ten points. 

“Is this some kind of long-awaited vengeance?” Clarke had stormed into Lexa’s tiny office during office hours.

Lexa barely looked up from the email she was reading. “Are you serious?”

“I followed the assignment. I hit all the requirements.” Clarke pointed at her phone where, presumably, a copy of her graded assignment was on the screen. 

Lexa couldn’t see it in the glare of the office light, but she remembered it. It was creative, clever, but not what she was supposed to do. Her head didn’t move, but her eyes shot up to meet Clarke’s.

“You didn’t even try to hide the fact that you’re only studying Chicago’s bus system in order to disrupt it.” She let out a deep breath. “And you did a great job finding the limitations in routes and efficiency. I can tell you understood the study, which is why you got six points.”

“But I followed the assignment.” Both of Clarke’s hands were now on the edge of the desk as she leaned in.

“No.” Lexa sat back and closed her laptop. “You didn’t. And you know you didn’t. Maybe you can get away with that in other classes, but we need you to follow instructions. You can get creative with your final project.”

“Will you be grading that, too?”

“Part of it, probably.”

“Then I doubt I’ll be able to get too creative.” Clarke huffed and slung her backpack over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

The rest of Clarke’s assignments were flawless, though her analysis had a spiteful flourish to them. Each time, she found the most obvious conclusions and spent far more words than necessary coming to them. After four weeks, Lexa could only laugh. She had to hand it to her: even as she colored within the lines, Clarke managed to protest. It was artful.

They didn’t acknowledge each other in class. Most of the other students held Lexa with an earnest and completely unearned reverence. She had a presence, a silence that made her intriguing. The boys gave her shy smiles when she walked in, and she’d acknowledge them with a curt nod—which only drew them in more.

Halfway through the semester, Lexa noticed Clarke lingering in her office doorway. She could tell from her body language that she did not want to come in.

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Ms. Griffin, can I do something for you?”

Clarke looked up. “Can I come in?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Clarke walked in and looked back. “Can I shut the door?”

Lexa was intrigued. “Uh, sure.” She smirked. “You’re not here to yell at me, are you? Your work has been more than acceptable.”

“No, it’s not that.” Clarke sat down in the chair uninvited. “I...uh...I need a recommendation. From Dr. Gudmundsson. But she told me I had to go through you.”

“You could have emailed me.”

“That felt...cowardly.”

Lexa’s forehead creased. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I mean, given our history.”

“Clarke, it’s not like I have any say in your recommendation.” Lexa sighed. “It’s just a form that I need to fill out. Or you fill out, ideally, and give it back to me. Dr. Gudmundsson glances at it, I draft a letter, and she signs it. I’m sorry if that’s disappointing for you, but maybe it’ll feel less disappointing to know that I’m basically her administrative assistant. For this kind of stuff, at least.”

“It’s…” Clarke paused and took a deep breath. Streaks of sunlight streamed through the branches of a tree and broke across her. “Look, I know how this works.”

“Good.” Lexa shrugged. “I’ll email you the form.”

“Can we just do it now?” Clarke was chewing on her lip, her finger tapping on the arm of the chair.

“Uh, sure.” This wasn’t how Lexa wanted to spend her office hours. “Let me just pull it up.” Her eyes darted around the screen. “Okay.” She asked some logistical questions about Clarke’s major and concentration, electives she’s taken, and planned graduation date. Then she went to the next part of the form.

“Okay, so who are we sending this recommendation to?” 

Clarke smiled and looked down. “Friends of the Earth in Ireland.”

Lexa typed. “Okay, for what, though?”

“Their Extinction Rebellion training program. It’s kind of like a fellowship.”

Lexa stopped typing. “Aren’t those the people who superglued themselves to the gates of, like, a hundred coal mines last July?”

Suddenly, Clarke was looking her straight in the eyes. “Yes.” 

Lexa felt that strange guilt wash over her. She sucked in her lips and decided not to comment. She looked down at the screen. “So what do you think your intellectual strengths are?”

That night, Lexa was having a drink with some of the other TAs when she noticed Clarke across the bar. She was with a group, sitting next to a completely unremarkable young man whose face was giving her his complete and devoted attention as she talked. It wasn’t clear if Clarke knew he was there. 

Lexa smiled. Boys are so ridiculous.

She sipped at her beer and silently nodded through the TAs’ complaints about work conditions and bad pay. It’s not that she didn’t agree with them, but it was all they had been talking about for the last thirty minutes, the last thirty days. And she only had one semester to go. By the time it was actually resolved, she’d probably be gone.

She scooted her chair out and left her ranting colleagues to find the bathroom. Two gender neutral bathrooms lined a narrow hallway, and both doors were locked. As she waited, wondering if the narrow hallway was ADA compliant, one of the doorknobs rattled and Clarke emerged.

“Oh, hey.” Clarke looked past Lexa, almost like she was embarrassed.

“Hey.” Lexa studied Clarke’s face. It was strange to see her looking unsure. She waited for Clarke to move so she could get into the bathroom. She didn’t move. Instead, she leaned against the door frame.

“Can you believe this virus thing?” she asked.

“What?” Lexa squinted. 

“The virus, the Coronavirus that’s going around in China. Seems like a pretty big deal.” Clarke finally looked at Lexa. “I’ve heard there are some cases in Italy, too.”

Lexa remembered seeing something on Twitter but hadn’t paid much attention. “I haven’t heard much.”

“I just wonder if we should be nervous.” Clarke’s confidence seemed to return. “I don’t think this country is prepared for anything like that.” She scoffed. “I mean, I don’t think this administration is prepared for much of anything.”

Lexa tilted her head. She didn’t know why Clarke was suddenly bantering with her about viruses. “Can I…?” She looked behind Clarke, nodding towards the bathroom.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry” The hallway wasn’t so narrow that they couldn’t get past each other, but their arms brushed against each other in a way that made Clarke look back when she got to the end of the brief corridor. Lexa was already closing the door behind her. Clarke bit her lip and went back to her table.

At the start of their next class, Lexa noticed that Clarke looked up when she walked in, though she looked away quickly.

It was Lexa’s task that day to explain the students’ final project. It was relatively straightforward:  choose one infrastructural element in your hometown, assess its current efficiency in terms of sustainability, and design three ways to improve that efficiency—two of which were realistic given financial, social, and political limitations, and one pie-in-the-sky, no holds barred approach.

Lexa had a feeling which one Clarke would devote most of her time to.

To her surprise, Clarke dropped in during her office hours again a week later. She didn’t linger outside the door this time, she just walked right in. Even more surprising, it was to ask about writing policy and navigating local government legislation. 

“I mean, tax breaks created a society of stand-alone homeowners, right? So why can’t tax breaks encourage high-density living and co-housing?” Clarke spoke breathlessly. When she committed to something, she threw herself in, even if it was housing policy.

“Aren’t we talking about Bangor, Maine?” Lexa asked. “Isn’t that a small town?”

“Not tiny.” Clarke squinted, annoyed. “And besides, high-density housing isn’t just for big cities. It’s not just good for sustainability. It helps build community. When people encounter each other everyday, they start to care about each other. People are super isolated in Bangor.”

Lexa nodded. “Okay.” She didn’t need to know the particulars. She was just glad Clarke was finally recognizing how long-term change realistically happened. “So what are your other two approaches?”

Clarke pulled out what appeared to be a folded engineering map of a Bangor neighborhood. “Do you mind?” She nodded at the blank space on Lexa’s desk.

“Sure.”

They both leaned over the map as Clarke pointed out potential locations for rainwater collection tanks. 

“This is pretty ambitious,” Lexa said, her eyebrows raised. She looked down again, her hands gripping the edge of the desk, her long hair tumbling towards the map and hiding her face. 

Before she could stop herself, Clarke reached up and slid the loose hair behind Lexa’s ear. They both froze. Lexa felt goosebumps shoot up her arms. Clarke bit her lip in a dare. She didn’t mean for this to happen, but maybe...she did?

Lexa eyes shot to the map. She felt Clarke’s hand slide over hers. She glanced over and saw the line of Clarke’s neck curving delicately as her head tilted in her direction. She suddenly loved that line, wanted to run her finger over it. 

She swallowed hard and pulled away.

“We...this…” She fumbled her words. “We can’t do this.” She looked up at Clarke with stony eyes, though uncertainty lingered at their edges.

“Oh, right.” Clarke grabbed at the corner of the map, sweeping it in a wave off the desk. She didn’t bother to fold it as she gathered her backpack with her other hand. She turned towards the door without looking back. 

At that moment, both of their cell phones buzzed. Clarke stopped and looked at Lexa who was already looking at the text. 

Attention. There has been an emergency on the UVA Charlottesville campus. Health services has identified 23 cases of the Novel Coronavirus today. This virus is extremely contagious. To limit the spread, you are instructed to shelter in place. Please do not move from your current location until directed by authorities. If you are indoors, close internal doors and open external doors and windows. If you are outdoors, remain outdoors.

A tinny female voice repeated the message from a public address system in the hallway.

Clarke let the map flutter to the floor. “Shit.” She closed the office door.

Lexa let something that was half a sigh, half a laugh escape from her mouth. She went to the window to push it open.

“This isn’t funny,” Clarke said quickly, her eyes wide. “This could be really bad. I read that this virus can be airborne for a long time. They don’t even know what the incubation period is.” She turned her wide eyes on Lexa, suddenly worried. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel fine,” Lexa said, throwing up her hands. “Except I didn’t eat lunch. So there’s that.”

“This is serious, Lexa.” Clarke’s words were quick and clipped. “People have died in China, and it’s getting worse in Europe.”

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No, but—”

“Then let’s just deal with what’s happening right now.” Lexa’s voice was calm, almost soothing.

Clarke sighed loudly and collapsed into the chair. “You mean the fact that I’m now stuck here with you?”

Lexa bit her lip. “You didn’t seem to mind a minute ago.”

Clarke looked out the window. “Let’s...just forget…”

“Clarke…” Lexa leaned back in her chair. “It’s not that—”

“What is your deal, Lexa?” Clarke stood up, suddenly angry. “It’s like you’ve had it out for me from the second we met.”

“I just don’t think changing the world requires breaking everything, Clarke,” Lexa said quietly. “It’s nothing personal.”

It only made Clarke get louder. “No big change has ever happened because people were following the rules.” Her face went red. “You’re smart, Lexa. I know you are. And you care. You just don’t care enough.”

Lexa felt her heart pounding, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t move. She had been accused of not caring her whole life, people mistaking her calm for distance, her quiet for heartlessness. Even as she spent three years of undergrad building the network and support to change the university’s HVAC system from fossil-fuel based to an electric heat recovery model. It wasn’t glamorous, but it reduced the school’s emissions by almost 50%. Even as she slowly persuaded Dr. Gudmundsson to support the TA’s cause, one small conversation in passing at a time. Even though she’d never see the fruits of that labor.

She looked out the open window. “You don’t know me.” Her voice was soft and even yet somehow completely commanding.

“You’re right.” Clarke took a deep breath and sat back down. She looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Why do you even care anyways?” Lexa shook her head. “You’re almost out of here. Aren’t you going to Ireland or something.”

“I don’t care.” Clarke’s voice returned to its sophomore octave.

“Well, you certainly like to spend a lot of big feelings on something you don’t care about.” 

“Someone.” Clarke swallowed. Her head was tilted down but her eyes drifted up to Lexa’s, the blue endless like the middle of the ocean.

Lexa bit her lip. “Clarke…” The softness in her voice was no longer commanding.

Clarke felt a jump in her chest. 

A door in the hallway crashed open, and heavy feet marched down the hallway pausing until a muffled voice shouted, “Clear!” Then the steps continued, then paused. “Clear!” Again and again. 

Clarke looked out the window of Lexa’s office door and saw two people in hazmat suits scanning every office down the hallway. She watched until they finally made their way to her. 

“We got two!” a man yelled through his plastic mask.

“What’s going on?” Clarke asked through the window.

“That virus,” the man said as he tapped on the phone he was holding. His face was sweating. “The one on the news. There’s been an outbreak on campus. We don’t know much about it, but it’s supposed to be super contagious. We’re just being cautious.” 

“I can go straight home,” Clarke said, her voice on the edge of frantic. “I only live two blocks from here. I’ll stay far away from people.”

“No,” the muffled voice replied. “You have to shelter in place until we can test you. The tests are on the way. Should only be an hour or two.”

“Do you see the size of this office?” She looked back and saw Lexa looking up at her with smug but amused eyes, which only irritated her more. “Half of it is taken up by a desk. There’s no food.”

“I have a protein bar,” Lexa said, shrugging.

Clarke rolled her eyes.

“It’ll only be a few hours,” the man repeated. “You’re big girls.”

“What did you say?” Clarke squinted at him with sharp eyes. Her hand reached for the doorknob.

“Clarke.” Lexa said, quiet but unassailable.

Clarke’s hand dropped.

The man either didn’t see or acted like he didn’t see. “I need to get contact info from both of you. Names, numbers, and emails.”

“Why?” Clarke crossed her hands in front of her. 

She didn’t see Lexa rolling her eyes behind her. “I don’t know, Clarke,” Lexa said. “Maybe so they can get in touch with us while we’re trapped in this room and let us know what’s going on.”

Clarke sighed and sat down in the chair across from Lexa. “Fine.” 

They both gave their information, and the two hazmats suits continued on their search. “Someone will be here in a couple hours.” The man called back as he walked off.

“I don’t trust them.” Clarke sunk into the chair.

“Seems to be a theme.” Lexa gathered her hair with both hands and pulled it back into a bun. She sat back. “You could obviously handle a campus outbreak much more competently.”

Clarke opened her mouth then realized that Lexa was suddenly leaning forward, waiting for a response. Her eyes were shining. Clarke bit her lip and sat down. She looked down at her hands. A thick silence filled the tiny office. A cool breeze circled the office, rustling her hair. She pulled her jacket closed around her, and turned to look out the window. 

Lexa sat back and noticed that curve in Clarke’s neck again. Somehow soft and sharp at the same time. She felt one corner of her mouth curve up and shook her head. She shivered. Clarke noticed.

“Should we shut the window?”

Lexa had a quip ready about Clarke being the epidemic expert, but she sucked in her lips instead. “Do you think it’s safe?”

A tired smile crawled across Clarke’s lips. “I don’t know. But I’m cold.”

Lexa stood up to close the window.

Clarke took in a breath and held it for a moment. “I didn’t mean…” She said, letting the breath out. “I didn’t mean to step over a line. I just figured...I mean, you’re only two years older than me, and I know you’re a TA, but…”

The corner of Lexa’s lip creeped up again in a sad but kind way. “It’s not that, Clarke.” She looked up. “I mean it is. Professors discourage it, but it’s not forbidden. But…” The sadness melted off her smile as it widened. “You’re kind of a pain in the ass.”

Clarke laughed. “Yeah, I know.”

“And you kind of drive me crazy.” Lexa bit her lip.

Clarke tilted head. “Crazy how?” A light shone in her eyes. She stood up.

Lexa watched her as she circled the desk, that curve of her neck running smooth. 

“Like crazy in a bad way?” Clarke stopped just in front of Lexa and leaned against the desk.

“Definitely,” Lexa responded, her eyes shining. She leaned back. An invitation.

Clarke bent down and put her hand on Lexa’s cheek. Then she leaned in.

Lexa jerked her head back quickly, though mischief danced in her eyes. “You sure you want to do that? I could get you sick.”

“I don’t care,” Clarke replied just before her lips reached Lexa’s.

---

When they went home that day, they didn’t know that, though they lived less than half a mile from one another, they wouldn’t see each other again for three months. They didn’t know they wouldn’t be allowed to leave their homes except to buy groceries. They didn’t know that classes would be moved online for the rest of the year. They didn’t know that the only fanfare there’d be for graduation was receiving a piece of fancy paper in the mail in July. 

They didn’t know that it would be a terrible time to fall in love. But they did it anyway. They sat on Google Hangouts while they studied together. They sent Spotify playlists that they carefully curated for each other. Clarke mailed Lexa sketches she made of Lexa’s face from classes on Zoom. Lexa sent Clarke seductive texts during those classes and smirked as her face went red. Late at night, they touched themselves together on speakerphone, hoping their roommates wouldn’t hear.

When the quarantine finally lifted in early July, their reunion was marked only by their roommates who occasionally caught them in the kitchen grabbing food or walking from the bathroom back to the bedroom. 

When Lexa landed a prestigious internship at the World Resources Institute, she convinced Clarke to move to Washington DC with her. Clarke’s Friends of the Earth training had been moved from Ireland to online, and DC wasn’t a bad place to find activist friends. 

They found a tiny studio in Southeast. Lexa took the green line to H Street every day. Her work took her to Capitol Hill where she sat silently in meetings and took in the careful dance between her supervisors and congressional leaders. It was a game of give and take, sometimes infuriatingly slow and steady—too much given, not enough won.

“By the time you make any change, the planet will already be burning.” Clarke was stirring a pot of jarred pasta sauce. Neither of them had ever been very interested in cooking. “It already is.”

Lexa sighed. This was a variation on a nightly conversation. She moved in behind Clarke, wrapping her arms around her and resting her head on her shoulder. Her blonde hair smelled like summer. “Not tonight, okay?”

The scent of mediocre tomato sauce filled the room. Lexa sat down. “Anyways, how was your day?”

Clarke looked back with a hint of trouble in her eyes. “We talked about how to, uh, accelerate government action.” She smiled that smile that both drew Lexa in and infuriated her.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk.” Lexa rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stifle the grin.

Clarke set the wooden spoon down. She strode across their tiny kitchen and straddled Lexa, sliding her fingers up Lexa’s neck and through her hair. She smiled that smile and bit her lip. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

---

After three years, Clarke had turned their tiny apartment into the neighborhood headquarters for climate justice. Flyers about pollution in Congress Heights covered their kitchen table. Posters illustrating rising sea levels along the Anacostia River were stacked on a chair in the living room. Every Tuesday night, she gathered a small group of activists to brainstorm projects and actions.  

Lexa complained whenever she was home, which was rare. She had been promoted to project manager and was gone for days or weeks at a time at meetings in The Hague or conferences in South Korea.

“Do you know how much fossil fuel those trips put into the atmosphere?” Clarke had a hard time understanding how the good Lexa was doing at these meetings outweighed their carbon footprint.

“I’m sure you can tell me the exact amount,” Lexa snapped. She had just gotten home from the Netherlands and was not in the mood for Clarke’s preaching. She looked from the pile of flyers on the table to the bed which was a messy heap of blankets to the stack of dishes in the sink. 

“What do you even do when I’m gone?”

Clarke lowered her head, and her eyes narrowed. She took in a long breath as her jaw clenched. 

“You don’t get to do that,” she said in a low voice. “You don’t get to come back and act like you’re the only one doing ‘real’ work.” Her air quotes were comically exaggerated. “Just because I’m not on Capitol Hill or at the fucking Hague doesn’t mean I’m not doing real work. I’m not your housewife, Lexa.” 

In three years, Clarke had learned that Lexa heard her whispers better than her shouts. She had learned that her anger distilled and harnessed got her much further than her anger exploded and dispersed. She didn’t realize in the moment that she had learned those things from Lexa.

Lexa clenched her fists and took a breath. She let her fingers relax. “I don’t want to do this tonight.”

Clarke looked down. “I don’t know if we should be doing this at all.”

---

Clarke moved into a giant, run-down house on the edge of the city with some activist friends. Lexa found a studio in Logan Circle. 

“This isn’t what I wanted.” Clarke turned the key to their apartment over and over in her hand.

Lexa looked up from the box she was taping up. Her green eyes were heavy. “It’s not what I wanted either, Clarke.”

Clarke looked slowly around the mostly empty apartment. It made her smile, and it made her tired. So many memories. Lexa stood up. Her face was streaked with dust and sweat, but her shoulders were pulled back. She stood up straight, unshakeable.

If things were different, Clarke would have hugged her until her body went soft. Instead, she set the key on the kitchen counter. She looked up. “I love you, Lex.”

Lexa nodded slowly and sucked in her lips. She closed her eyes for a moment then looked into Clarke’s eyes. “I love you, too.”

Clarke turned and walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.

---

Their paths crossed only a few times in the following years—at coffee shops in Capitol Hill and once at a bar in Southeast. Lexa texted Clarke on her birthday. Clarke texted Lexa when she found out Lexa had been hired as the Executive Director of Organizing for Climate Action, or OCA. 

Can’t wait to see all the “incremental change” you make, Clarke’s text read after the initial congratulations. She couldn’t resist. Lexa didn’t respond.

Clarke never told her that she kept a binder full of Lexa’s white papers. She didn’t tell her that she sometimes googled Lexa’s name and watched her interviews from local news shows on YouTube. OCA was steadily and methodically taking on the fossil fuel industry, coordinating deep investigation with targeted peaceful protest to force oil companies into altering their practices, and Lexa was quietly becoming a driver of the movement. Clarke, despite her irritation, couldn’t help but be proud.

What Lexa was gaining in influence Clarke was gaining in notoriety. Her first action was a die-in at Union Station 300 people covered in fake blood laid down across the public transit hub, stifling the morning commute. They demanded that Congress and the President declare a climate emergency. Clarke had coordinated logistics and wrote the demands. A few months later, she traveled south where she and 500 others covered in blue paint chained themselves to each other in a rough line across downtown Miami where the sea was predicted to rise in 50 years. This time, she was the one with the loudspeaker. She talked to the media, declaring their demands.

Lexa rolled her eyes when she saw a very blue Clarke on CNN calling for legislative and economic climate action. But she also couldn’t help but smile. This was always who Clarke was going to become.

But their worlds didn’t come together in a meaningful way for six years—when they locked eyes across a sea of people in Houston, Texas.

---

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” Lexa said under her breath as she watched her carefully orchestrated protest disintegrate. Her green-shirted supporters looked around in confusion as the Extinction Rebellion chained themselves to gates and trees and then to each other in lines across the roads that led in and out of Exxon Mobil’s facilities. 

“Lexa!” a muffled voice called through the walkie-talkie. “What do we do?”

“Just keep everyone calm.” Her voice was low, barely containing her anger. 

The news crews that had been gathered at OCA’s speaker podium started migrating towards the sudden action at the gates and intersections. Some of the green shirts were joining the human chain. 

“For decades, Exxon Mobil has been a leader.” She heard Clarke’s voice ringing out over the crowd. Clarke was standing in the bed of a truck where a makeshift PA system had been set up. “A leader in pumping carbon into our atmosphere. A leader in pushing for deregulation of laws that protect our earth. A leader in covering up fossil fuel’s impact on our environment. They knew. Oh, yes, they knew. And now they’re not going anywhere until they listen to what we have to say!”

A massive cheer went up. The crowd, including Lexa’s green shirts, raised their fists and phones.

“We will be heard! We will be heard! We will be heard!” Clarke started chanting, and Lexa’s green sea followed her, their voices echoing down the long parkway.

“Lexa!” the voice called through the walkie talkie. “You’re losing them. You have to do something!”

Fuck you, Clarke, was the chant repeating through Lexa’s thoughts as she swam through the crowd towards her. She was at least 100 yards away, and the crowd was thick.

The people went silent as Clarke climbed onto the roof of the truck with her mic. “They will continue to profit on the destruction of our planet, of our home, as long as we let them.” Her voice swelled. “We must stop them.”

“We must stop them! We must stop them!” The crowd took up her words again.

Lexa finally made her way to the truck and looked up at Clarke. What the fuck are you doing? Her eyes said what she couldn’t say out loud. Clarke smiled and jumped into the bed of the truck again. 

“Does OCA stand with us?” Clarke asked into the mic. She looked across at the mass of green shirts around her before her eyes settled on Lexa. She held her hand out to Lexa, inviting her up into the truck bed.

Lexa felt hot anger pulsing through her veins. Anger that Clarke stole her moment. Anger that all the details she had so carefully plotted were now falling to the ground like broken glass. Anger that she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t refuse Clarke, not now. She grabbed her hand and climbed into the truck, and Clarke immediately jumped onto the roof and waited for Lexa to follow. 

Lexa swallowed hard, letting go of her plans, her pride, her power. She grabbed the mic from Clarke’s hand.

“We stand together to call Exxon Mobil to accountability!”

The crowd roared, and she felt it wash across her like a wave. This was power, but not the power she was used to. This was raw and untamed. Clarke took her hand and they turned to face each other. The blue in her eyes flashed, and the power danced between them.

The energy suddenly changed. Shouts went up together with bursts of smoke. Tear gas. The crowd jolted, looking for an escape all at once. The people chained together cried out, unable to bring their hands locked in tubes to their faces. The edges of the sea spilled out across the parkway.

“Don’t run, Lexa.” Clarke’s voice was calm, but something wild lingered at the edge of her words. “They can’t see you run.” She gripped her hand hard. “Stay with me.”

Lexa saw black spots pushing through the crowd towards them. 

“Those aren’t cops, Lexa.” Clarke’s chest rose and fell quickly. “They’re private security. We’re on a public road. They shouldn’t be touching us. Stand your ground.”

“How can you tell?” Lexa hated how her voice was shaking.

Clarke’s jaw clenched. “You always thought my training was ridiculous…”

Six black spots surrounded the truck, men covered in riot gear. “Security! You need to come down.”

“No, we don’t,” Clarke said with her wild calm. 

“Come down or we will bring you down.” The man sounded like he was enjoying himself.

“Go ahead.” Clarke shrugged. “We’ll bring a lawsuit.”

The speed of their violence startled Lexa. They leapt into the bed of the truck and grabbed Clarke’s legs, pulling them out from under her. Clarke grunted as her back caught the edge of the roof. She went silent when the back of her head slammed into the bed of the truck. 

“Clarke!” Lexa shouted as she dropped to her knees and held up her hands. The riot men grasped at her. “If you fucking touch me…” She drew her shoulders back and glared as she started to climb down. The men let her climb down.

As she dropped into the bed of the truck, she saw the men pulling Clarke’s limp arms behind her to cable-tie her wrists. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Lexa rushed to her body. She glanced at the dozens of green shirts that had gathered around the truck holding up cell phones. “You sure you want to do that? She’s not even conscious.” 

The men backed off.

Lexa folded herself over Clarke. “Clarke,” she whispered frantically. “Are you okay? Wake up.” She swallowed. “Please.”

Clarke stirred. 

“Oh my God.” Lexa gathered her into her arms. “Are you okay?”

Clarke slowly turned and looked up at Lexa with drowsy eyes. “I can’t believe you’re with me right now.”

Lexa felt tears prick at her eyes. “I’m so fucking mad at you.” She smiled.

Sirens rang out in the distance.

Clarke closed her eyes and smiled. “It was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. You organized it so well.”

“Fuck you, Clarke.” Lexa leaned over and kissed her forehead. 

When the police arrived, Clarke was sitting up, rubbing her eyes. 

“These are the leaders?” they asked the private security men.

“Yeah,” said the man who had pulled Clarke down. “They incited this whole thing.”

“This was a legal gathering,” Lexa said. “I have permits.”

“It stopped being legal when the chains came out,” one of the cops said. “You’re both under arrest.”

Clarke remained conspicuously silent as they were read their rights. Fury wrestled with concern inside Lexa. She was worried about Clarke, but she was also being arrested because of her. When Clarke stood up and swayed, losing her footing for a moment, the concern made a comeback.

“Shouldn’t she see a doctor or something?” 

“She seems fine to me,” a policewoman said as she led Clarke away towards a separate car. Clarke looked back at Lexa with sleepy eyes.

“Do you want to make a call?” Lexa heard a man’s voice ask distantly.

“What?” She turned. The man arresting her had soft eyes.

“I’m about to take your cell phone,” he said. “Do you want to make a call before I do?”

“Is that allowed?”

“It’s at our discretion.” 

“Did she get a call?” Lexa nodded in the direction of Clarke.

“I don’t know. I didn’t arrest her.” His soft eyes became impatient. “I’m not going to offer again.” 

Lexa sighed and pulled out her phone. She found Eleanor, the chairwoman of OCA’s board of directors, in her contacts.

“Lexa!” Eleanor’s voice was frantic. “Are you okay? I saw the video.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, it’s all over Twitter. Who was the other woman? The blonde. Is she alright?”

“That’s the woman from Extinction Rebellion.” Lexa felt the fury crest as she refused to say Clarke’s name. “Listen, I’m being arrested.”

“What? Why?”

“They think I was part of—”

“Thirty seconds,” the cop interrupted.

“Listen, Eleanor,” Lexa took a deep breath and drew her shoulders back. “I need you to figure this out. Bail me out or whatever...I’ve never done this before.” 

“We’re already in touch with the lawyers,” Eleanor said. “Just hold tight.”

“End it now,” the cop reached for her phone.

Lexa clenched her jaw as she ended the call and handed him her phone.

---

Clarke’s pacing had grown frantic.

“Calling into the water,” Her words came out louder and more senseless with every passing minute. “He just doesn’t know it yet.” Her frenzy filled the small holding cell. 

Their tangled-haired cellmate’s eyes followed her back and forth. Her face had grown pale, and her finger-fidgeting sped to a wild pace. She looked like she was going to be sick—or start a fight.

Lexa glanced between the two of them, feeling the tension push at the edges of the small space, the bars of the cells trapping everything. Her rage had carried her through the first hour. She had ignored Clarke, hoping she’d calm down so she could be properly angry with her. But Clarke hadn’t calmed down. Her eyes grew more vacant with every passing hour, her pacing quicker and more rickety. 

“Facing the springs,” she mumbled, stumbling a moment before her hand caught a bar to steady herself. 

“You need to do something.” The fidgety woman’s shaky eyes landed on Lexa. Her shifty fingers were now balled into tight fist. “Or I will.”

Lexa’s muscled stiffened. She felt her heart beating evenly, solidly throughout her body, and time seemed to slow. Her anger at Clarke had been boiling at the surface, but it seemed to melt, rolling off her skin, as something spread through her from her very core, taking control. She turned her whole body towards the woman and tilted her head down while shifting her eyes up.

“Just try,” she said, her voice low and quiet.

The woman wrapped her arms around herself and pushed herself against the wall. “Just…” Her eyes shot upwards, glancing everywhere except in Lexa’s direction.  “I didn’t mean anything…” She let out a sigh, and her body seemed to go limp like an opossum playing dead.

Lexa exhaled. “Right.” She turned her head towards Clarke’s quick, hollow voice.

“Can’t climb the clock,” Clarke was saying. She was panting and sweat trickled down the side of her face. “Can’t climb it.”

Fear started to creep through Lexa. Clarke had always been intense, always danced at the edge of wild, but she was also calculated. She never lost control. She managed madness like an ER doctor, knowing which screams mattered and which could wait. At least that was the Clarke Lexa had known. But now the madness was taking over. She swayed with the nonsense of her words, even as her feet kept carrying her back and forth, back and forth. They wouldn’t keep her up much longer.

Lexa swallowed, longing for the anger that had now fallen away. It had anchored her. It had made being in jail tolerable. It had given this terrible day meaning. It had made looking at Clarke tolerable. She was familiar with anger—knew how to stoke it like a well-tended fire that would burn hot but not too big.

A fire she could manage. She didn’t know what to do with fear. And Clarke was scaring her. 

Clarke’s legs finally gave out. She fell hard, her knees crunching onto the cement floor. 

Instinctively, Lexa darted to the floor beside her. She gathered Clarke in her arms. She was burning up. At first, she was dead weight against her, but she slowly lifted herself up as if waking up.

“Clarke?” Lexa whispered.

“Lexa?” It took a few moments for some life to come back into her blue eyes. They steadied, tired but focused. “What are you doing here?”

“Inmate 67348!” A man’s voice echoed through the cell. 

Lexa looked down at the stick-on badge they had given her. 67360. Not her. She looked down at Clarke’s. Not her either.

The fidgety woman seemed to be asleep in the corner. 

The guard shouted this time. “Inmate 67348!”

The fidgety woman shuddered and blinked her eyes open.

“Do you want out of here or what?” The guard didn’t lower the volume. “You made bail. Let’s go.”

The woman looked so pale that Lexa was almost worried about her. But she wasn’t her problem anymore. She shuffled out of the cell, and the cell door slid closed with a crash. 

It was just the two of them now.

“Lexa,” Clarke’s eyes drooped. “Where are we?”

Lexa squinted at her. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember what?”

Lexa let out a long breath as she finally realized what was happening. Memory loss. Fever. She swallowed.

“We’re in jail, Clarke.”

“What? Why?” Clarke’s eyes closed and her head tilted against Lexa.

“No, no, no, Clarke.” Lexa shook her. “Wake up. You need to stay awake.”

Clarke lifted her head, blinking her eyes like she’d had a little too much tequila. 

“Let’s go sit on the cot.” Lexa stood and helped Clarke to her feet. They shuffled to the cot. Lexa rested her back against the wall and propped Clarke into a sitting position. 

“Why are we in jail, Lexa?” Clarke’s voice was quiet like a child’s.

“We were at a protest.”

“You got arrested with me?” Clarke's smile was drunken, gleeful, and exhausted. For a moment, Lexa saw what she must have looked like as a child when she was begging to stay up with her parents even as she was asleep on her feet.

“Sort of.” Lexa sighed. It wasn’t worth getting into.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Clarke rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore.” Her eyelids fell again.

“Stay with me, Clarke.” 

“I’m here.” Clarke’s voice was sweet and quiet. “I still like you, you know. I mean, love you. Always have. There’ve been others since, obviously, but...not like you.” Clarke fell quiet for a long time. 

Lexa swallowed and closed her eyes for a few moments. Her heart started pounding in her chest. She felt like she was hearing a secret she shouldn’t be hearing, but she wanted to hear more. She took a few deep breaths, bit her lip, then finally shook her head.

“Clarke, wake up.” She put her arm around Clarke’s shoulders and pulled her towards her. “Tell me the last thing you remember.”

Lexa spent the next two hours nudging Clarke awake when she faded and asking her things. Recent things. Factual things. When Clarke hazily asked her if she remembered that day in her office when the coronavirus hit, Lexa steered her back towards the details of her activist training. 

Eventually, after several deflections, Clarke lifted her head like it weighed a hundred pounds so she could look at Lexa. “Why won’t you talk about us?”

“Because it’s not the right time.”

“Do you still love me?” She cut to the center of it, never one to give up. Her voice was quiet but clearer than it had been.

Lexa took a few breaths before turning her head and looking into Clarke’s eyes. “It’s impossible not to love you.”

“Inmate 67360!” The guard's voice rang. He looked into the cell. “You made bail. Unless you want to keep cuddling with your girlfriend.”

“She’s hurt,” Lexa said as she stood. “She needs to go to the hospital.”

“She hasn’t made bail.”

“She might have a head injury.” She narrowed her eyes at the guard.

“She hasn’t made bail,” he repeated without an ounce of feeling. “Do you want to leave?” He looked up. There was a bit of feeling in his eyes. “You can probably help her more out there.”

Lexa nodded slowly and looked back at Clarke. “Are you okay?”

Clarke’s eyes were glassy, but a tired, wistful smile crossed her face. “I think so.” Her eyes drooped again. “Lex, how’d we get here?”

Lexa sucked in her lips. She hated to leave but the guard was right. She walked to the bed and bent down so that her face was even with Clarke’s. She brushed her fingers down her cheek. 

“I have to go, Clarke.”

Clarke nodded as her eyes slowly closed.

“Clarke! You need to stay awake.” Lexa shook her shoulders. “Hey.” She put her cheek against Clarke’s and whispered into her ear. “Just for a little longer.”

“I’ll try.” Clarke raised her hand to Lexa’s face.

---

It was late into the night when Lexa was released. Eleanor was waiting in the lobby for her. She was an older woman who had made the most of a marriage into money, smart enough to wield it to her will but smooth enough that people still liked her when she did. A natural-born chairwoman of a national organization’s board. Lexa was less charming and more aggressively direct, which made them a good team.

Lexa was surprised first by how sharp the older woman looked for the end of a disastrous day and then by the positively giddy smile on her face. Eleanor seemed to notice and evened out her features.

“Are you okay?” she asked like she was supposed to.

“What is going on?” Lexa was more interested in why Eleanor was so being so weird.

The smile splashed across Eleanor’s face again. “Everyone has seen the video, Lexa. It caught fire on twitter and then CNN picked it up and then all the rest. I’ve been fielding interviews all night.”

“What video?”

“Videos, actually. Dozens of them. From the protest. Everyone saw those goons take down that blonde woman.” Eleanor led her outside towards a waiting car. “It looked bad. Do you think that woman is alright? I mean, she shouldn’t have been there in the first place, but….Don’t you know her?”

Lexa bit her lip. “Yeah.”

Eleanor gushed past her. “Lexa, they want to talk to us.”

“Who?”

“Exxon Mobil’s people.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think you understand how bad the videos look.”

“Of Clarke getting hurt?”

“Is that her name?”

“Why do they want to talk to us? It was Clarke who...” Lexa trailed off.

Eleanor shook her head as she opened the car door. “It was their people who threw the teargas into the crowd, too. They were off their property. They shouldn’t have been there. They need to clean this up. And there’s no way they’re going to work with that group of radicals.” Eleanor spit the word out like it tasted bad. “We’re the real players here, Lexa. They want to set up a meeting tomorrow. And the senators said they would reschedule for tomorrow or the next day, so that’s still on the table—”

“But what about Clarke?” Lexa rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted.

“I’m sure her people are taking care of her.”

“But you don’t know?” Lexa looked back towards the station. “You haven’t talked to them?”

“Why would I call them?” Eleanor’s eyes were angry. “They ruined everything today with their ridiculous chains and human barriers.”

“That’s not what you just told me.” Lexa tilted her head.

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do, Eleanor.” Lexa’s voice was sharper than it should have been with her chairwoman. “Because if I recall, Exxon Mobil’s people had no interest in talking to us before all this. It seems to me that if Clarke hadn’t been attacked—”

“—To be fair, Extinction Rebellion was asking for it—”

“—If she hadn’t been attacked,” Lexa interrupted the interruption, “there would be no seat for us at their table. Is that true?”

Eleanor sighed.

“Listen, Eleanor.” Lexa took a deep breath. “We’ll take the meetings, okay? I promise. But we need to take care of Clarke. She was in that cell with me, and she’s not okay. It’s the right thing to do. Even if you disagree, it would still be good optics. OCA taking care of the environmentalist who was attacked.” She looked up at her with tired, soft eyes. “We need to be on the same side.”

Eleanor studied Lexa for a long moment. Finally, she nodded, a small, curious smile tugging gently at the corner of her lips. “I’ll call the lawyer.”

---

When Clarke was released, she came out hanging onto a guard’s arm. She could barely stay on her feet. Her face was pale and shimmering. Lexa rushed over and propped her up, guiding her slowly out of the building to the car where Eleanor was waiting in the front seat.

“Oh my God.” She brought her hand to her mouth when she saw Clarke’s dazed face. 

“We need to get her to the hospital.” Lexa strapped Clarke in and slid into the backseat next to her. “You still with us, Clarke?”

Clarke nodded distantly.

“Just a little longer,” Lexa whispered, her voice no longer able to hide her deep worry.

Eleanor’s head swivelled at Lexa’s tone. She saw Lexa wrap her arm around Clarke, pulling her towards her. She saw Clarke rest her head on Lexa’s shoulder and Lexa close her eyes as she reached for Clarke’s hand. She had never seen her this soft.

Eleanor smiled quietly to herself and turned her eyes back to the front.

“Hey,” Lexa whispered again. “Stay awake. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“I know.” Clarke’s voice was so faint. She fell silent for a few long moments. “Hey, Lex?” she finally asked.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we can try again.”

Clarke didn’t see the tiny smile creep across Lexa’s face, but she heard it in her voice. 

“We’ll see.”

[lovingangelobservation]

2021 Updated Manifestation Magic

It’s not often that we come across a “law of attraction” type of product that helps you with love. Most of these products are concerned with wealth creation and living an abundant life.

But… we also live in a world where divorce rates are at an all-time high.

Relationships break up over the most trivial matters. The bookstores are filled with books such as “He’s Just Not That Into You” and “Men are From Mars. Women are from Outer Space”, etc.

All these books are about trying to find the right partner or manage a crumbling relationship. Some of the authors who wrote these books are divorced too!

So, our curiosity was piqued when we came across Manifestation Magic and one of our reviewers said that it helped her with her love life. Nothing whatsoever on the sales page mentioned anything about love.

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We decided to take a closer look at the program…

What You’ll Find Inside:

Before looking at the benefits of Manifestation Magic, let’s look at what you get – and you do get a lot.

Quick Start Manifestation Guide (PDF, Kindle, iBook versions)

Twilight Transformation Energy Orbiting Track

7 “Energy Orbiting” Tracks to Enhance Chakra Wealth Energy.

The “Push Play” Audio App

60-Day, Money-Back Guarantee

Bonus #1 - Chakra Power System

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2 Surprise Bonuses – The Abundance Miracle System & 7 Sacred Signs

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Manifestation Magic is a complete system that’s more comprehensive than most books in this genre… BUT… content alone isn’t enough.

There is still one VERY IMPORTANT question that must be answered…

Will Manifestation Magic Help You?

Actions that matter: The biggest problem we had with books like The Secret was that all you had to do was think positively to see results. This Pollyanna approach to manifesting wealth or anything in life sounds good, but rarely works. Manifestation magic requires you to listen to the audios. This is work. It’s not hard work – but it’s necessary work.

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Easy to use: There’s no denying the fact that it’s easier to listen to audios rather than force yourself to think and visualize positive images when your life around you is in shambles. Manifestation Magic is a very practical and down-to-earth program that understands that you need to make changes WITHIN before you can make changes in your life. The canvas must be clean before you can create a masterpiece. We loved the audio tracks with the gentle pulsating sounds!

Genuine Testimonials: The official sales page has reviews from customers who have tried the product and seen changes in their life. That’s social proof that the audio tracks deliver on the promise.

Instant access: This is a digital product. You’ll get instant access to it and can start changing your immediately. No shipping costs or delays.

60-Day Money Back Guarantee: This point alone shows the abundance mindset that Alexander has. He has so much faith in his product that he has given you enough time to test out the product and make changes in your life.

If it doesn’t work, you can always get your money back. We’re guessing that you won’t because Manifestation Magic will add magic in your life. Still, it’s a risk-free purchase.

What are Subliminal Messages and NLP?

Subliminal messages have been around for decades. Terms such as ‘self-hypnosis’, ‘binaural beats’ etc. have been used to describe audio tracks that gently work on reprogramming your subconscious mind while you sleep. These tracks are easy to use because they require very little effort on your part. All you do listen to them when you’re in a sleepy and more suggestive state.

NLP refers to neurolinguistic programming and it was invented by Richard Bandler and John Grinder. NLP is used to change your behavioral patterns by altering your neurological processes. It’s akin to creating new outcomes by changing your habits.

What makes Manifestation Magic so powerful is that the audio tracks that come with this program infuse both subliminal messages and NLP. That makes these tracks even more potent and effective.

Any downsides to this product?

There are a few downsides. No product is perfect… and thankfully, the only 2 cons we could fine were just minor issues.

1) Can only be purchased online You’ll not be able to purchase this product from a bookstore. It’s a digital product and you need a computer and an internet connection to access and download it.

The product vendors intentionally made it this way so that they could keep the production costs low and make it affordable to the masses - and help as many people as possible.

2) Audio tracks may not be suitable for everyone Some people may find it difficult to listen to the tracks because the frequency may be jarring to them. This is a very small minority – but it happens.

The good news is that you just need to contact the support team of Manifestation Magic and they’ll mix a new audio track for you with a different frequency that you can easily listen to – and they will do it for FREE! Excellent customer support here.

Should You Buy It?

Definitely! This product delivers what it says on the tin. You’re backed by a guarantee and you’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain.

It bridges the gap between visualization and results. The audios will accelerate your results if you’re already practicing daily visualization. It’s the missing piece of the puzzle.

There must be action, if you wish to see results. Listening to the audios is the action that you must take to change your life fast and manifest the health you wish to see.

Wealth, love, good health and whatever you want is within reach. It will take some effort. You’ll need to consistently listen to the videos and follow Alexander’s advice to the letter – but now you finally have a blueprint to success.

You’re not taking shots in the dark. You have a tool to fix what’s not working within you… and once you change your ‘inside’, your outside will change miraculously… and you’ll NEVER look back.

Manifestation Magic gets two thumbs up from us.

[groovysublimecreator]

Manifestation At First Sight - Brand New Angle In Spirituality Niche

HEALTH ANGLE

Manifestation Magic Review

It’s not often that we come across a “law of attraction” type of product that helps you with your health. Most of these products are concerned with wealth creation and living an abundant life.

But… we also live in a world where people are more sick and unhealthy than ever before. Obesity has reached epidemic proportions. Disease statistics are at an all time high.

So, our curiosity was piqued when we came across Manifestation Magic and one of our reviewers said that it helped him with his health. Nothing whatsoever on the website mentioned anything about health.

It seemed to be all about wealth. So why did it work?

We decided to take a closer look at the program…

What You’ll Find Inside:

Before looking at the benefits of Manifestation Magic, let’s look at what you get – and you do get a lot.

·         Quick Start Manifestation Guide (PDF, Kindle, iBook versions)

·         Twilight Transformation Energy Orbiting Track

·         7 “Energy Orbiting” Tracks to Enhance Chakra Wealth Energy.

·         The “Push Play” Audio App

·         60-Day, Money-Back Guarantee

·         Bonus #1 - Chakra Power System

·         Bonus #2 - 360 Transformation System

·         2 Surprise Bonuses – The Abundance Miracle System & 7 Sacred Signs

This package sure doesn’t hold back. We were quite surprised to receive so much content for a reasonably low price.

Manifestation Magic is a complete system that’s more comprehensive than most books in this genre… BUT… content alone isn’t enough.

There is still one VERY IMPORTANT question that must be answered…

Will Manifestation Magic Help You?

Actions     that matter: The     biggest problem we had with books like The Secret was that all you had to     do was think positively to see results. This Pollyanna approach to     manifesting wealth or anything in life sounds good, but rarely works.     Manifestation magic requires you to listen to the audios. This is work.     It’s not hard work – but it’s necessary work.

Builds     a strong foundation: The reason why Manifestation     Magic works and has positive testimonials is because of the science behind     it. You're gently taken from a place of lack to a place of abundance. This     is crucial.

The reason it helps you with your health is because it creates thought patterns within your mind where you are more focused and stick to your goals.

The expertly designed sonic landscape in the audios will induce a state of calm attention where you don’t lose focus and renege on the promises you made to yourself.

Manifestation Magic is not only about wealth. It fixes the underlying and fundamental issues in your thinking that is sabotaging every aspect of your life in one way or another. It helps you to get healthy and stay healthy .

It's very difficult to do this solely with books, because we are creatures of habit. So, by listening to the audios, we can delve deeply into the mind and fix the inconsistencies that are sabotaging our efforts. Manifestation Magic does this better than any book we've seen.

Consistency:By asking you to     listen to the tracks daily, Manifestation Magic builds patterns of thought     and habits without you even realizing it. You’re becoming more positive     and your thinking is elevated to the next level.

Clearing     out the trash: No     amount of positive thinking can work if you’re still stuck in your old     patterns of thinking. It’s like applying nail polish on a rash to hide it.

You must treat the problem. Manifestation magic has “Energy Orbiting” audio sessions to clear abundance blocks in your mind. By clearing the old obstacles, your path will now be clear to manifest miracles without your attempts being impeded.

All-Encompassing     System: On     the surface, Manifestation magic looked like just another run-of-the-mill     self-help product. We were so wrong.

There are audios, a QuickStart guide and about 14 bonus audios that will help you with your wealth, love life, spirituality, etc. It’s so much more than a wealth attraction product and it lived up to its promises.

Easy     to use: There’s     no denying the fact that it’s easier to listen to audios rather than force     yourself to think and visualize positive images when your life around you     is in shambles.

Manifestation Magic is a very practical and down-to-earth program that understands that you need to make changes WITHIN before you can make changes in your life. The canvas must be clean before you can create a masterpiece. We loved the audio tracks with the gentle pulsating sounds!

Genuine     Testimonials: The     official sales page has reviews from customers who have tried the product     and seen changes in their life. That’s social proof that the audio tracks     deliver on the promise.

Instant     access: This     is a digital product. You’ll get instant access to it and can start     changing your immediately. No shipping costs or delays.

60-Day     Money Back Guarantee: This point alone shows the     abundance mindset that Alexander has. He has so much faith in his product     that he has given you enough time to test out the product and make changes     in your life.

If it doesn’t work, you can always get your money back. We’re guessing that you won’t because Manifestation Magic will add magic in your life. Still, it’s a risk-free purchase.

What are Subliminal Messages and NLP?

Subliminal messages have been around for decades. Terms such as ‘self-hypnosis’, ‘binaural beats’ etc. have been used to describe audio tracks that gently work on reprogramming your subconscious mind while you sleep. These tracks are easy to use because they require very little effort on your part. All you do listen to them when you’re in a sleepy and more suggestive state.

NLP refers to neurolinguistic programming and it was invented by Richard Bandler and John Grinder. NLP is used to change your behavioral patterns by altering your neurological processes. It’s akin to creating new outcomes by changing your habits.

What makes Manifestation Magic so powerful is that the audio tracks that come with this program infuse both subliminal messages and NLP. That makes these tracks even more potent and effective.

Any downsides to this product?

There are a few downsides. No product is perfect… and thankfully, the only 2 cons we could fine were just minor issues.

1) Can only be purchased online You’ll not be able to purchase this product from a bookstore. It’s a digital product and you need a computer and an internet connection to access and download it.

The product vendors intentionally made it this way so that they could keep the production costs low and make it affordable to the masses - and help as many people as possible.

2) Audio tracks may not be suitable for everyone Some people may find it difficult to listen to the tracks because the frequency may be jarring to them. This is a very small minority – but it happens.

The good news is that you just need to contact the support team of Manifestation Magic and they’ll mix a new audio track for you with a different frequency that you can easily listen to – and they will do it for FREE! Excellent customer support here.

Should You Buy It?

Definitely! This product delivers what it says on the tin. You’re backed by a guarantee and you’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain.

It bridges the gap between visualization and results. The audios will accelerate your results if you’re already practicing daily visualization. It’s the missing piece of the puzzle.

There must be action, if you wish to see results. Listening to the audios is the action that you must take to change your life fast and manifest the health you wish to see.

It’s all about breaking old habits and forming a new mindset. The same rules that apply to improving wealth applies to everything else in your life. It all comes down to mindset – and the Manifestation Magic audio tracks will change your thought patterns.

You can achieve the body of your dreams. You can lose weight, get fit and look and feel like a million dollars. The struggles that you were going through before will disappear once you get out of your own way.

It may seem like hype, and we were cynical too… but Manifestation Magic does give you the edge you need to make your dreams come true. You’ll finally stop sabotaging your own progress and good health will be the norm.

Give it a try and you’ll never look back.

 https://bit.ly/3enixDX

[askmerriauthor]

Skyrim Civil War Quest Alternatives

Because @techmomma and @askdeserteagle made me start thinking about Skyrim again.

I really dislike what we got in the Civil War quest line.  Mind you, I know I’m not saying anything new here - Skyrim’s been out for ages and we’ve all heard the discussions about how little influence your choices have, and that it basically has no impact on the game world either way.  But I’d still like to consider some alternative outcomes that would’ve been fun to explore and would like to invite y’all to give some ideas as well.

So to start with, we of course have the main three:

Join the Stormcloaks Side with Ulfric and give everyone you don’t like the boot, keeping Skyrim for the Nords and ensuring their religious freedom no matter who they have to crush along the way.

Join the Empire Side with the Empire and rejoin the fractured region under a single banner in hopes of standing unified against the Thalmor, despite an uneasy and extremely questionable “truce” with said Thalmor.

Don’t Get Involved Ignore the Civil War questline entirely.  Go fight dragons, eat entire cheese wheels, ignore the sporadic pockets of conflict between warring factions, be awesome.

See, now the trouble with all these is that there isn’t really any in-depth exploration of the ideas, implications, and consequences that come of your choices as a player.  In terms of overall impact you basically just pick whichever side you like/doesn’t suck as much to your tastes and the end result basically equals out the same.  Skyrim as a whole doesn’t feel substantially different at the end of it all.  Not getting involved, on the other hand, is basically just ignoring game content and also doesn’t yield any impact either.  The Civil War is touted as being this major element of the game yet you can basically ignore it for extremely little difference.  I’d love to see there be notable changes to the setting, the behavior of NPCs, and the nature of Skyrim itself when you picked a side or if you chose to keep out of it and let things play out on their own.  That’s sort of a core flaw for the entire game though; even when you do something really major like assassinate the Emperor himself that should logically have sweeping consequences, nothing actually changes.

Other alternatives I’d like to see are as such:

Negotiate Peace It seemed like we were supposed to get something in this vein but that it got cut from the final production.  In the face of the Dragon threat, the Dovahkiin gets the opportunity to call a ceasefire and bring all the various factions literally to the negotiation table on neutral ground.  Along the way some sleuthing reveals Ulfric is an (unwitting?) asset of the Thalmor, but we never get a chance to present this information!  In the end the whole thing basically goes nowhere - even if you keep everyone civil at the table, it all evaporates as soon as Alduin is dealt with.

The idea of Ulfric being influenced by the Thalmor and said Thalmor intentionally driving the civil war in an effort to weaken the Empire further is just so packed with potential.  It could drive Ulfric to change his ways and rejoin the Empire after recognizing the true common foe or send him further into zealous rage, blaming the Empire for allowing the Thalmor to infiltrate in the first place.  The Empire could have a new angle with which to rally the fractured Holds of Skyrim as they’d have clear evidence the Thalmor had already broken the White-Gold Concordat, or even try to use the revealed connection via Ulfric to counter the Thalmor’s efforts.

Ultimately, the “good outcome” of all this would be to present a single unified Skyrim with all factions coming together, driving out the Thalmor, and setting things up for a big looming confrontation as a new war promises to come soon.

Salt the Earth The opposite scenario to the above.  Instead of negotiating peace, the player has the option to go “you all suck, time for mayhem” and just goes ham on everyone.  The Dovahkiin becomes Public Enemy #1 and destroys not only the leadership of either faction, but the Jarls who support either side as well.  Total upheaval of power in Skyrim.  Since the Thalmor themselves have no core presence in the region there’s no directly harming them, but there could always be the option to wipe out their embassies as much as possible.  Since the Thalmor had a vested interest in seeing the civil war go on for as long as possible, it becomes a question of whether putting a violent stop to it all was a good or bad thing for them.  On one hand, the people of Skyrim will inevitably replace their leadership with a new, potentially stronger/unified force or even potentially rally behind the Dovahkiin as its conqueror/savior.  On the other hand, the Dovahkiin striking such a massive blow against the region on their own makes for a delicious opportunity to conquer Skyrim, hindered only by the threat of said Dovahkiin themselves.  After all, if this lone warrior could crush several armies on their own, maybe it’s not such a good idea to cross them...

Join the Thalmor I personally consider the Stormcloaks to be the “bad guy route” in the story choice, but let’s go even further and make a “really, REALLY bad guy route”.  Whether the player character is a High Elf or simply a useful asset of another race, they have the option of joining the Thalmor and furthering the chaos that is already consuming Skyrim.  Instead of overt conflicts and assaulting bases like we see in the standard Stormcloak/Empire route, this would result in a more subtle approach of infiltration, subterfuge, and sabotage.  Basically if you liked the Embassy Party stealth mission, the whole quest chain would be more of that.  You play all sides against one another and watch them tear each other apart, perhaps with some extra bonus options if you’re aligned with any of the various stealth/knowledge-based factions/Daedric princes.

Join the Forsworn You know who the real sons of Skyrim are?  Well, it’s technically the Snow Elves, but that ship has sailed.  In this case it’s the Forsworn who were forced out of their land by the colonization of the invading Nords.  While the Dovahkiin gets to learn about the history of the Forsworn in some considerable detail throughout the game, there’s nothing to be done with that knowledge.  The Forsworn remain a permanently hostile enemy faction just because.  Let’s go with a secondary route of making friends with the Forsworn and getting them some/all of their land back, be it through negotiation or uprising.

The Sudden but Inevitable Betrayal Regardless of what route you choose, there should always be at least one opportunity (if not several, ideally) to go rogue and turn the whole thing on its head.  Usher one faction to the cusp of victory only to suddenly backstab its leader.  Spend all your time undermining one faction for the apparent aid of a second, only to nip off and betray them both to a third party.  You should always have the chance to just upend everything, especially in the most dramatic and potentially self-destructive manner possible, for the chance of being a total mastermind or chaos agent.