#for legal purposes that last threat was a joke

[egginfroggin]

I don't mean to sound complainy, but one of my pet peeves is when ads, books, or what-have you talk about diabetes being a reversible condition and utterly refuse to specify what kind of diabetes they're talking about.

For those who may not know (and I don't blame you, diabetes is a very complex issue):

Type 1 diabetes is a condition that results from the body attacking itself by specifically destroying insulin-producing cells in the pancreas. These cells, the islets of Langerhans, do not regenerate or divide, and are permanently gone when they die. Type 1 diabetes cannot be reversed, only treated.

Type 2 diabetes is a condition wherein the body does not metabolize carbohydrates, insulin, or glucagon (a hormone produced and stored in the liver; raises blood sugar when released) properly, causing a rise in blood sugar. It may involve insulin resistance or overutilization of glucagon, among other things. In some cases, type 2 diabetes can be reversed, usually through diet and exercise (however, this is not a certain outcome, and some people may need medication).

To summarize:

Type 1 diabetes: body does not produce enough insulin. Permanent condition. Symptoms managed.

Type 2 diabetes: body does not utilize insulin or carbohydrates properly. May be reversed. Often treated with diet and exercise, in addition to medication, if patient is overweight.

Needless to say, that is a very distinct difference! One may even say crucial! After all, they are two conditions that have similar outcomes, but very different causes.

You do not tell a type 1 diabetic, "oh just exercise and eat better, it'll fix it," because, I am so sorry to disappoint, we do not know pancreatic necromancy. If we did, well, then, type 1 wouldn't be an issue, now would it?

I feel like it really isn't hard to put in the two words, "type 2," before "diabetes" in your advertisement or book, yet I keep seeing it. Yes, I know that most diabetics have type 2, but still -- is it really so hard?

(Yes I'm bitter. Back in my wee days of diabetes, when I was still using syringes and lamenting the sheer number of carbs in cake, I was severely disappointed upon finding that the majority of sources claiming that diabetes wasn't permanent were referring to the type that I specifically did not have. Very disappointed. Rub it in, why don't you.)

So, yes, please specify! It could very much save an already-stressed child, teenager, or even an adult (as type 1 can surface in adults as well) a good two hours of fuming and lamenting their lot in life.

Also you'll have fewer enemies with needles at their disposal.

[clonehighjoansieofarc]

Clone High Theory

Exclamation Point is a staged community; the celebrity guest stars work for the Secret Board of Shadowy Figures, and that's why you see them with the Shadowy Figures in the last episode before they raid the prom. They could all be in on the conspiracy… maybe they're gaining something out of it? Who knows?

Every (normal) person around them is pretending. They interact with the clones and act completely ordinary and treat them like their normal kids while knowing, “Tee hee, these kids are going to be government super-soldiers! Yikes. Well, bye, Julius Caesar, it's nice to see you at the supermarket, but I gotta get some salad for dinner. Bye. ”

Exclamation Point seems like a small and remote town….? The type of place where no one comes in and out… it's almost like a secure bubble. There are only so few people that interact with the clones.

It’s a very The Truman Show esque false reality/fake community where there could be cameras everywhere, and the Shadowy Figures watch them like… a TV show. Essentially, they're keeping tabs on the clones and letting them “roam free” but actually developing their senses for what lies ahead.

The foster parents. They're all very weird… Toot’s never knows what's going on, Cleo’s mom is never clearheaded, so they were hired because they're competent because they're incompetent… the fosters aren’t going to act against the board! They aren't threats… they're just gonna raise a bunch of teen historical figures for however long, go along with everything and get their money's worth. Some parents don't give a rats ass about them (Cleo’s mom,) while some do (JFK’s dads) OR MAYBE THEY COULD BE ACTORS AS WELL AND NOT BE DUMB AT ALL AND WORKING WTH THE SHADOWY FIGURES TO GET PAID AND UNEASE THE CLONES AND JUST NURTURE AND RAISE THEM.

IN THE LAST EPISODE, THE SHADOWY FIGURES LITERALLY SAY “BOARD OF SHADOWY FIGURES… FELLOW CONSPIRATORS …” ???????????? timestamp 7:26

Joke about the clones being the first group of children to be legally “adopted” by a corporation

Back to The Truman Show! the clones eventually find out their purpose and rebel. It’s Joan who finds out first. She’s the most skeptical and least enthusiastic about being a clone, and once she finds out, she (understandably) freaks out and has the worst existential crisis. She tries to tell Abe Gandhi, JFK, and Cleo, but they play it off as her being crazy and overthinking everything (Cleo believes Joan in the slightest but shrugs the horrifying thought off because she can't afford to think all this being perfect was for something like that and JFK WANTS to believe her as well but he just can’t fathom a thought like that) Abe dumbly makes a little joke about Joan’s clone mother and her claims of something just as far fetched as her clone daughter’s and having no one believe her which ultimately sets Joan off on a rant on how meaningless their lives are yet these crazy events happen to them? How no one comes into Exclamation Point, and no one comes out? How small and bleak everything could be? “Don’t you guys ever wonder WHY we're here? What's the point of all this?” She would scream and sputter out word vomit while the four other teens stare at her with stunned and concerned expressions because it’s such a dreadful thought they've never put into consideration and because it’s Joan… the girl who’s historically known to be erratic in her prophesying and the most level headed and sensible one.

Joan is questioning everything, and slowly the rest of the clones start to believe her and decide that even though they don't know what their purpose is, they're going to revolt against Scudworth (since he’s their superior) using their intelligence and skills that Shadowy Figures cloned them for except it’s all dialed down to teenager style where they're all going ape shit (like in the riot) with Joan leading them with her smarts and strength just like her clone mother did all those years ago.

The last two bullet points aren’t necessarily theories but it’s a cool idea

tagging you guys because you all said you wanted to hear my theory :D @anton-wyzek @ort-smort @disconnected-dragon

[inklyqueen]

Jimmy Crystal's Criminal Offenses

Incase anybody needed it for fanfic/headcanon or other purposes

Also this is a really long post

We essentially all know what he did, ok, but if you got here somehow out of nowhere, beware, there's spoilers for Sing 2 in this.

Topic Warning: Attempted Murder, Verbal Abuse mentions, Kidnapping,

Also disclaimer I am not a lawyer or a legal counsel, I grew up off of MatPat and I learned his research tricks, so this is all based on research.

For those with zero context, Sing 2 puts the main theatre group from Sing (2016) (Buster Moon, Johnny, Meena, Gunter, Ash, and Mrs. Crawley *yes Mike the asshole mouse is absent) in Redshore City, which is essentially fictional Las Vegas, Nevada, USA. They go in an attempt to get signed on with Crystal Entertainment, basically a talent agency, run by Jimmy Crystal. Now Jimmy is obviously picky here. He upright denied a horse that got through her opening piano and sang "Hello" and was instantly denied, probably because of the song choice, but who knows.

Not even joking.

So The Mane Six™ show up unannounced and sneak in for an audition because they're told by the talent scout they're not "good enough," and you got Buster who won't take that for an answer, and of course, they're rejected. Jimmy monologues about how he wants a new and big idea, and Gunter starts talking about his idea for a Space Musical. That hooks Jimmy in, they sing a Bono song to roll with it, and AGAIN, somehoW NOT LEARNING HIS LESSON FROM THE LAST TIME, Buster lies and says he knows Clay Calloway, an old singer who vanished after his wife passed from an illness. Nobody knows where this dude is.

Why am I going through this part of the movie? Because it's part of Jimmy's criminal offense list.

Jimmy immediately "green lights" the group and says he wants the show ready in three weeks. He's paying for all of the props, stage set, costumes, labour, etc etc, so obviously he justifiably says "Don't do anything to embarrass me."

Buster says, "I won't let you down, sir."

Crystal responds, "Better not, or I'll throw you off the roof."

And this isn't jokingly. This is in Buster's face, brows knit and everything. Buster is visibly fearful but laughs nervously anyway.

Everyone in the theatre group is there to witness this, including Jimmy's security, his assistant Jerry, and the talent Agent Suki.

This is the FIRST offense that we know of.

As the movie goes on, Jimmy's threats become more severe. He calls Buster out on his lie about knowing Calloway (his lawyers spoke with Calloway's lawyers, which is fine), and Jimmy again reminds him that he will throw him off the roof if he doesn't have Calloway on set within the week.

This is twice now that he's made this direct, verbal threat.

Jimmy uses his power over Buster to put his daughter Porsha in the leading role of the musical, and later, Buster tries to give her a different role. Porsha overreacts, thinks she's being fired, and storms off to tell her father.

This makes headlines in the celebrity news world, and Jimmy is enraged, not because his daughter was ridiculed, but because he's facing public humiliation. He makes a point of saying that everyone in the world now thinks that he "has a talentless excuse for a daughter" (paraphrasing), and makes no attempt to console his daughter who is sobbing in his office.

This is the last straw to Jimmy, who calls Buster to his office again. Buster tries to explain himself, but isn't given the chance, and literally grabs Buster, carries him to the balcony, and is about to drop him over the fenceline when his assistant, Jerry, comes in and reminds him of his TV appearance with a talk show. "Maybe it's best we put a pin in this for now, sir?"

More on Jerry in a minute, but this is Jimmy's first attempted murder of Buster Moon.

Buster is then locked in a closet, and later let out by Suki, and is told that he needs to get out of town ASAP. Which is what Buster immediately sets off to do, and calls the gang together to pack up their things.

Jerry comes into Jimmy's office a little later, finds Buster is gone, and immediately calls Jimmy, who orders two of his security men to find the gang and keep them in the hotel until Jimmy can finish the job. Jimmy's on the talk show talking trash about the gang, and there's the usual inspirational "He can't bully us out of this show" and they decide to put the show on "whether Crystal likes it or not." This counts as trespassing technically but that's not important here.

There's a pursuit, they sneak back in to the theatre, and even get his daughter Porsha on board.

Of course the second Buster announces this musical to patrons at Crystal's convention center/hotel/theatre (the dudes got money what did you expect), the manager calls Jerry, who goes to get his boss, and they immediately go to the theatre to shut Buster down.

During this, Jimmy manages to grab hold of Buster again, takes him up to a landing via a service elevator backstage, and literal quote, "I can do whatever I want," throws him off the landing (Buster's a koala so literally throws) and if Rosita hadn't jumped with her bungee cord/harness thing (words) she wouldn't have caught him in time to save him.

Jimmy is grabbed by Johnny's dad (a literal gorilla twice his size), and by the end of the movie, he's walking out in handcuffs after his casting agent called the cops.

This is the second attempt on Buster's life.

With all of this in mind, that's:

Two counts of attempted murder

Two counts of criminal verbal threats

Possibly a count of kidnapping by locking him in the closet

And probably a couple counts of blackmailing if he's got a whole group of people that know he's made murder threats and didn't report it (but I won't count that here because it's speculation)

So now Jimmy's in a holding cell, most likely doesn't have the chance to pay bail money to get out because he's considered a "risk to public safety," (specifically Buster's and the rest of the gang), and is going through criminal court trials. He's gonna have a good lawyer, no doubt, dudes got money, but at the end of the day, sometimes a really good defense attorney doesn't change the fact that there are twelve fucking witnesses (the additional being Clay Calloway, Johnny's father and his groupies, a choreographer that was hired on by Johnny, and yes I'm counting Ryan the tiger in this too) to you attempting to murder this Koala by throwing him from a high place. Plus the off chance that anyone in the audience saw Rosita rushing to jump off the landing with her harness and bungee cord to catch something falling and drop it backstage safely.

So let's say that the hearings have been done, the closing arguments are complete, and the jury moves to deliberate on whether or not Jimmy is guilty of attempted murder.

I'd assume all of the theatre group testify as witnesses for the prosecutioner, including Suki, Clay, and Ryan, and they've all given statements under oath.

Based on information for the state of Nevada (since Redshore is a fictional Las Vegas):

It can be charged as a misdemeanor to verbally threaten someone's life in which the victim actually feared the threat would be carried out, from 6 months to 2-15 years in prison, and possible fines to the court

A conviction for attempted murder (category B because no poison was used) in Nevada can carry 2-20 years in prison, 22-40 since he attempted this twice

A conviction of kidnapping with intent to murder (I'm counting it as kidnapping because he locked Buster in a closet against his will) (category A felony) is Kidnapping in the first degree. If the victim sustains substantial injuries (inflicted by captor for example) can carry life in prison without parole (a chance to get out of prison early) at the highest form punishment, the lowest 40 years with the chance of parole after 15 years

Since Buster didn't sustain any injuries (besides a metaphorical heart attack maybe), the sentencing can range from 15 to life in prison, with a chance of parole

It seems to me that Jimmy has committed this kind of act before, as in murdering someone for making him look bad, lying, etc, since Porsha makes a comment about how none of them, including her, his own daughter, are safe from Jimmy. He most likely managed to get any prior 'incidents' covered up as a s****de.

But since this isn't confirmed, we're not gonna count it here.

Since there's no actual trial, judge or jury, this is also speculation since there's the annoying off chance that he can get acquitted for this crap. It's a very low chance, but it's a chance.

So, in the Courtroom of moi, I could say pretty confidently he would be charged with two attempts first degree murder, at least one count of verbal threatening or harassment, and one count first degree kidnapping with intent of murder.

That can add up to 140 years in prison at the maximum, not even touching his chance at parole.

Oh, and as for Jerry, he's up for aiding/abetting 1st degree kidnapping, misprision of felony (failing to report his boss's attempted murder/Kidnapping to the police even though he knew about it), and aiding/abetting attempted murder.

In Nevada, the kidnapping charge for Jerry would be the same, he'd still be up for life in prison. Misprision of felony can carry up to three years in prison. Aiding/abetting attempted murder can go up to 15 years in prison. At maximum punishment, that's 118 years in prison.

Oh no, he ain't getting out of this one either.

In other words, both of them could go away for life, though I think Jerry could be eligible for parole at some point down the line. As for Jimmy, could see him uh- casually acting all goody two shoes to get parole when he's eligible and then violating his parole (leaving the state, not checking with the parole officer, violating a restraining order that I'm pretty damn sure Buster files, etc) to try to finish the job. Wouldn't put it past him

This doesn't touch any argument the defence teams could've made, I just summarized a possible outcome of all of this. Hope this was a bit informative :3

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 06 —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

‘‘ I swear I am going to have someone beat your ass Park Jimin!’’

‘‘ It’s not my fucking fault! I broke up with her but you lead her to the apartment  knowing she’ll follow!’‘

‘‘ Damn it Jimin im going to kick your ass!’‘

Your eyes pop open just in time to see Jungkook on-top of Jimin hitting him repeatedly on the face while Jimin manages to push him off of him and begin his fist fight against him. He straddles Jungkook to the floor and punches are thrown left and right. Now the sudden headache of seeing the two brothers fight has began in your head and you cannot stand hearing the groaning and yelling between them. Bringing your hand up to signal them to stop, you realize they don’t even know you’ve awakened.

 Jungkook on the other hand is not having it so he throws Jimin off of him harshly making Jimin groan. The way he grabs Jimin’s collar with venom fast strength finally gives you the courage to yell out to them.

‘‘ Stop! Damn it, you two are like literal fucking teenagers. Act your age!”

The both of them turn their heads toward you slowly. Jungkook drops his fist, which was going to connect with Jimin’s face. You take a good look at them. Freshly bruised from each-other. Great.

‘‘ You think fighting is going to solve this problem huh? Get over here now.” You say, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Jungkook gives Jimin a death glare before rushing to your side and feeling your forehead. You slap his hand away and pull him down by his shirt only for him to recieve a harsh slap to the forehead.

‘‘ Shit!” He stumbles back and rubs his forehead. He shoots you a glare, wanting to yell at you but doesn’t.  You motion for Jimin to come to you too. He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

‘‘ I don’t think it’s necessary for you to do that..” He says, as if your death glare towards him isn’t enough to tell him you aren’t joking whatsoever.

He gets the memo when you disregard his comments before hanging his head low and bending down a little to your height. One slap against the forehead and two across the wrists.

‘‘ That’s for you fighting He was only looking out for me. The last two were for having a psychotic girlfriend who almost killed me. Look at my wrist!’‘

You hold them out to see two I.V’s, one for blood transfusion and the other a regular for nutrients on your right wrist. Both of them bandaged up which does need to be changed because of the old blood.

‘‘ I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would be this upset.’‘ Jimin says, hanging his head low. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him out of annoyance.

‘‘ Whatever. I already called my lawyer for your case. Since Isabel tried to attempt murder to you, you will win this case for sure.’‘ He proudly leans against the wall hoping to atleast crack a smile from you.

You don’t smile though. The last thing you need is another scandal. If this were to make the news and blogs right now then it could be a bad thing. You’ve just started your modeling career again and right now would be the worst time to have something like that. 

Jimin leans on the wall with his hands in his pockets, still avoiding locking eyes with you which is something he usually does. Something tells you that he’s hiding something. Something that you just can’t put your finger on.

‘‘ The police will come shortly for witness statements and your statement. Then they’ll call for a court date as soon as possible.’‘ Jimin’s voice low, illuminating with a hint of sadness.

Out of curiosity you want to say something more. To ask him whats going on and why he’s acting rather like this. It’s really not like him. He’s hiding something for sure and you just cannot put your finger on it. You just agree and pull out your phone. A missed call from Ryan. You try texting her and she almost always responds immediately. This time she doesn’t. What’s really going on?

You don’t know but Ryan took it upon herself to pay Isabel a visit. Usually visitors aren’t allowed for people in holding but with a little sweet talk of hers she got to get atleast 10 minutes to talk. That’s all she needs. When it comes to you, her bestfriend, she never messes around. Hearing the news from Jungkook yesterday she almost went luncatic. Throwing things at him, calling his brother every disrespectful name in the book. Oh she hates him now for sure.

Jungkook had to stop her from going over to the hospital to beat his ass into a bloody pulp for causing you pain and getting together with that crazy girl just to break up with her. Ryan was heated. 

But now she can take this heat and serve some to Isabel right now. She walks with confidence into the room. Nothing and nobody can stop her and if they even try, she’ll chew them up and spit them out. Catching a glimpise of Isabel sitting at the table with her hands cuffed and security next to her, Ryan shoots her a devious glare.

‘‘ What brings you here? I expected my boyfr-���‘

A harsh slam from her hands hit the table as she bends a little to her seated level, ‘‘ He’ not your fucking boyfriend. You were lucky I wasn’t there to beat your fucking ass.”

The guard tenses up at the sounds and sudden movements. Ryan notices, and decides to take her seat to calm down before she’s the one sitting behind the jail bars too. 

‘‘ Ryan.. I thought we were friends?’‘ She frowns, pouting her lips while fake wiping tears away. 

Ryan scoffs,shaking her head ever so slowly with a devilish grin on her face. “ We aren’t. Don’t let me catch you un-attended without your manager or body guard.. Isabel.’’

Isabel laughs one of her evil laughs, throwing her head back then coming back up, “ Oh how cute. Is this a threat from little ol’ you? Me and Jimin were doing just fine before your bestfriend had decided to enter his life again. I’m not the only bad guy here. She should know boundaries for taken men. Ex’s aren’t supposed to be firendly and lovey dovey. Spending nights and going everywhere with each other. Especially when one’s a famous idol with another idol girlfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“ Maybe you should take that up with your hoe of a boyfriend. He’s the one who can’t leave her alone.” She yells, inches away from Isabel’s face. The two stare at each other long and hard. Isabel is no match for Ryan though.

The guard clears his throat to break the two’s glares. The tension is thick in the air.

“ If you ever touch yn again, I’ll make sure you’re the one in the hospital this time around.”

‘‘ You’ll all see. I’ll win this court case. Trust me… there’s things you do not know.” 

Ryan rolls her eyes, strutting her way out the room with the sound of her heels clicking right behind her. Consider the message recieved. 

It’s been one week after the situation. In which in between those days you were dismissed from the hospital and have been in at Jimin’s house ever since. You didn’t want to be here. You want to be at home with your cat, Clara. Jungkook’s been going over to feed and play with her. Jimin kept pleading for you not to return home just yet because it could be a danger to you. It makes sense. You never know what Isabel has up her sleeve. 

So you’ve been sitting here doing the same old thing everyday. Eat, watch movies and netflix tv shows,  sleep, and repeat.

Jimin would come in and out of his home studio to check in on you. He still has to work on producing and singing his songs. He’d bring the food and your medicine he prepared per usual,  kiss your forehead, and go right back out to producing his highly anticipated album.

It all seems fake to you. Something is off. Something is not being told to you. You can feel it in your gut but can’t put a finger on it.

‘‘ This is so cliche.’‘ You murmur to yourself, switching the flat-screen T.V off.

And as if on cue Jimin comes inside your- well his room with a glass of water and prescribed pain killers for you. The slight smile on his face makes you want to smile but you don’t.

‘‘ Smile for ocne yn. Do you not like staying here?’‘ He says, sitting next to you on the side of the bed and places the glass in your hands.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, taking the two pills out of his palm. “ No.. but be honest with me Jimin okay?”

His face turns a quick shade of pink then pale as if you had said the wrong choice of words at the wrong time. As if he had seen a ghost at this very moment. That’s not a good sign at all.

‘‘ Are you.. hiding something from me?’‘

The atmosphere is thick and silence fills the room. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t either. Your eyes meet his and for once they don’t pull away first. 

Jimin doesn’t know how to break it to you though. It’s now or never.

‘‘ She will never leave me.”

You bite your lip hard, “ What do you mean?”

“ That she said that she’d do everything to ruin our relationship if we continue to persue one. She’d spready rumors about you to Dispatch. Make a scene whenver you’re near me. Anything she can do, she will do it.”

You don’t know how to take this all in. You knew Isabel was possesive but not this possesive. The thought of her doing things on purpose for you to make everyone hate you makes you want to cry. To just bawl your eyes out right here right now. You can’t.. you won’t do it. 

You won’t give in because thats what she wants. To make you cry. To ruin your reputation and work. Jimin came back into your life and of course you don’t know what to do or how to deal with it. But this is what you wanted right? You’ve been longing for you and him to get a second chance. It’s you. You’re the one who’s been putting things off and not letting things go with the flow. Maybe he came back to you because he realized how wrong he was for cheating on you. For leaving you behind. For not seeing things for truly how it is. 

You knew Isabel was bad luck from the beginning. Now is the time to try and take back what was originally yours. That will hurt her more than ever. 

“ She needs to have a reality check. Not everything revolves around her.”

‘‘ I agree. Putting her behind bars might give her a reality check. It should serve her right for harming people.” Jimin sighs. 

The silence is thick. You both don’t know what to say and it’s sure as hell awkward more than ever right now. Until that silence breaks. 

‘‘ I feel like you aren’t being your true self to me. If we are getting things out now.” 

His sudden comment makes you lift your head up from playing with the comforter. “ What do you mean?’’

‘‘ You.. don’t want to take actions on what you feel, say, or want to do with or about me. It’s killing me inside.”

He’s right. You do try to push your feelings aside no matter what the cause is. It’s just you trying to not set yourself up for hearbreak again. You do want him. You do want everything to do with him. Considering the things that happened in the past, it’s no doubt theres a fence guarding your heart from intruders. 

You exhale out heavily, “ Im just.. scared.’’

‘‘ Of? “

‘‘ Being hurt again.”

Dead silence again. This time he’s the one trying to come up with words to redirect your view of him. Yes, he broke your heart in the worst way possible. He wants you to see he’s changed. 

Jimin bites his lip, voice shaky when he begins talking again. ‘‘ How can I show you that i’m not the same anymore. Im not I promise you. I want you to see I have changed. I know it’s my fault. I destroyed you but let me fix it.”

It’s all come down to this. You’ve wanted this and now is the chance to get it. Now is the chance to have what was once yours. But the feeling of doubt had taken its course on you at the worst time.

‘‘ Jimin.. how do I know that for sure?’‘ You say, unintentionally fluttering your eyes at him. To you it’s to prevent from letting tears fall. 

Jimin see’s it as that specific thing you used to do when you wanted him. When you craved him and would drop hints. To be completely honest, you do crave him. You do want him. Make-up sex was something you two used to do often. It was your toxic way of saying im sorry. 

Somehow you want to put that toxic thing into action right now. As fucked up as it is, that’s how you two know you’re sorry towards each other. Actions speak louder than words. 

He closes his eyes for a quick second before clenching his jaw to contain himself. Your weak spot.

‘‘ Stop doing that. Unless you want to start something you don’t want to finish.” 

You smile just a little, hoping he’d get the memo. “ What if I do want to start and finish it..”

As if a car alarm went off, Jimin’s eyes pop back open with a suprised look. That’s the last thing he’d thought he’d be hearing from you. “ Are you sure about that? I mean we don’t have t-”

You lean in closer to where you guys are inches apart, his lips softly rubbing against yours. “ I’m all for it.”

Within seconds, Jimin’s shirt is removed off of you only revealing your blue panties which have became a little soaked with your wetness. He takes in the scent of you before his mouth connects with your thighs, slightly sucking to leave bruises on you.

‘‘ Jimin.. don’t tease me.”  You sigh, laying fully down to spread your legs even more. He hums against your skin making you catch chills up and down your spine.

‘‘ That’s my specialty baby. You know that.” He trails a kiss with each word all the way down to your core where he dips a finger inside. You tense up attempting to close your legs. He doesn’t allow it, spreading them open harshly again. 

‘’ Jimin-’‘ You barely utter before he begins to move his fingers in and out of you slowly. You let out a whine to try and make him go faster but it doesn’t work.

He comes up to your mouth and plants a wet, sloppy kiss. “ No whining. You’re gonna get what you want. Just relax baby.”

Is all he tells you before he goes back down to your core to tend to your desires.

The first lick between your legs is ever so gentle. Too gentle for you right now considering that you want release badly and Jimin knew exactly that. He opens his mouth and swirls his tongue up and down your slit. A groan leaves his mouth once he gets a taste of you which sends a vibration to your sensitive bud.

Each time his tongue laps against you your body jerked and shook but that only makes his tongue go faster. Sending you into a moaning and groaning mess as you tug on his hair.

“Mmh you even taste the same like always.” He moans with a smirk.

“Jimin please-” you cry out, locking your fingers into his hair when a finger is inserted into your dripping wet hole.

‘‘ No whining babygirl.’‘ His voice gentle as ever when he removes the finger inside of you making you pout a little. But that pout soon turned into your eyes becoming wide when he starts to take off his shirt, then grey sweatpants, then his underwear where his thick cock springs up.

Your eyes can’t leave his body. God it’s been a while. He looks pretty damn good. You wan’t to take all of his length in your mouth right now. To hear him praise you about how good your mouth feels against him. God you want it right now. 

He gives it a few strokes before walking over to you. Just before hovering over you, he gives you a passionate kiss while lifting up your legs and positioning them to his liking. Missionary.

The tip of him pokes at the entrance of you, teasing in and out. Soon enough he enters you slowly making both of you moan together.

You still wrap and fit around his member smug as ever, and he could not believe it. The feeling of familiarity of being inside you sends him into a moaning mess with each stroke. You can’t contain your moans and screams. He feels way too good. 

Jimin begins to deep-stroke you by pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You scream his name out in pleasure as your nails scratch up his toned back. Wet sounds fill the room with him picking up his pace. You take a glimpse of him only to admire his figure right now. Forehead forming sweat beads while he groans and moans biting his plump pink lips.

Your breathing becomes faster when that familiar feeling soon starts to take over. You turn your head to the side and let out a string of moans. Jimin isn’t having that though. His hand grabs your face gently and makes you make eye contact with him. Your legs start shaking as your head tilts back moans getting more faster. You finally let out one last one in sync with him, his hot sperm shoots inside of you.

Jimin pulls out, breathing heavily and collapses ontop of you. You let out a small grunt with the sudden extra body upon you, then giggle at him when he lays his head lays against your chest. This is what you wanted. He’s true. He’s sorry. 

‘’ I love you.”

That word surprises you. You weren’t prepared for it. Somehow though, you enjoy the fact that he’s said it to you. Love. Jimin’s love. Your love. 

��’ I love you much more Jimin.’’ 

[livisnotlee]

Livisnotlee’s Epic Blog Introduction Post!! 🎉

Please read this post before/when you first follow/ interact with me. Thanks!

This is a (SFW) Tickling blog! If you are uncomfy with that please feel free to scroll on past or block me, whatever you need to do.

Hey everybody! My name is Liv, and welcome to my blog!

(Scroll to the bottom for blog updates/FAQs, please check back regularly as this post may change.)

Feel free to reblog this post or use it as a template (credit preferred but not essential), but DO NOT claim it as your own.

Last updated: 22nd July 2024 (AUS)

Here are a few fast facts to get us started:

My pronouns are she/her/hers

I am Autistic and have ADHD

I am Demisexual & Demiromantic, and I identify under the Bisexual umbrella

This blog is strictly SFW!

This blog is also striving to be a safe space for minors so please respect that. I will not engage in any debates about wether tickling is strictly a sexual kink or if minors belong in the community, I simply aim to provide a safe space for all parties that is legal and all ages appropriate.

I will an not obligated to share any personal details or opinions that I feel are unnecessary for my audience to know. My online presence will be filtered to some extent as I would like to keep my personal and professional life seperate to my internet persona.

I am an adult, currently 19, (though sometimes I still feel like a kid heh). If you are a minor and you are uncomfortable with this that's okay, you can block me if you want.

If you/ your blog is fully NSFW, please DO NOT interact with or follow this blog! (I will allow mostly sfw blogs to interact, but will require they are SFW when on my blog and I will actively avoid any of their NSFW content. I don’t personally have anything against NSFW blogs as long as they are respectful. I will only ever make an exception for my partner or extremely close longtime friends)

I don’t mind interacting and being mutuals with other adults who are SFW at all! Just as long as the boundaries I have set are respected.

If you are an NSFW blog and you don’t want me to interact with you, it’s ok to block me! I don’t mind and it keeps us all safe. I will try my best to check first but even I make mistakes sometimes, I promise it’s not on purpose though!

Important note: It is a good idea to check the bio of each blog I interact with before doing the same yourself! While they will all be SFW posts, some blogs may have different age and Interacting/Following requirements that you may not meet even if I do.

This blog will try to stay as non political and discourse free as possible! (this excludes posts which cover important universal topics concerning everyone) Any comments/ asks that don’t follow that rule will be deleted, and/or users will be blocked. Go debate somewhere else please!

I am in an exclusive relationship with @engiboost and I am NOT looking to date anyone else right now. Regardless of my relationship status I am NOT comfortable with being flirted with online unless I know you very well and it is meant to be taken platonically of as a joke, or I have expressly told you otherwise.

While I can’t and won’t stop you from having your own opinions & values, the following will NOT BE TOLERATED on my blog:

Homophobia

Transphobia

Racism

Anti-Semitism

Sexism

Pedophillia

Neurodiverse community hate

SFW Age-regressor hate

NSFW DDGL

DID/OSDD hate

Anon hate (Anonymous users harassing others. Remember Tumblr staff can still check who you are, even on Anon.)

Discrimination or unjustified exclusion of any kind

Hate speech

Sexual harassment

Any kind of threats to harm someone physically, emotionally, socially etc. (i.e. d*#th threats)

Any other behaviour that is against the law.

Be aware that harassment of any kind directed towards me or anyone else in my country will not be tolerated and will swiftly be taken down. As I am an Australian citizen, I am protected by the Online Safety Act 2021 and that behaviour is unlawful in my country. Even if you are outside of Australia, you, or at the very least Tumblr, may still be held liable. You can read more about that here:

https://www.esafety.gov.au/

That was most of the important stuff out of the way, but here are a few other things you may need to know:

I don’t check this blog on a regular basis. I may be very active for a week, and then not come online for a few months. This is as much a personal blog as anything so I don’t have a set upload schedule, I just come on here when I feel like it.

As per the last point: I may sometimes take a while to respond to DMs, asks, and other interactions on Tumblr due to my ADHD and irregular blog activity. This doesn’t mean that I haven’t seen or don’t appreciate them, I just need a little extra time and patience 😊

While my DMs, Asks, post submissions, mentions, etc., may stay open, I am under no obligation to respond to or keep anything that I don’t feel comfortable with. Don’t take this personally or feel hesitant about reaching out! I will take it on myself to filter out any content or interactions that I don’t want appearing on my blog. Again please respect my blog rules and Tumblr TOS.

If needed you can ask me to take down, alter, or tag a post if you have a valid reason, for example; if anything I said in the post was a trigger for you. I want my mutuals to feel safe! But of course make sure to use common sense.

While this blog is SFW and safe for minors, it may at times contain some very mild mature themes and other things like swearing, and info posts for self protection/bad situations. I will absolutely make sure to tag and censor these things if needed but just be mindful of that fact.

FAQs: Current blog information and Statuses:

This section will change from time to time so if you are unsure of something try checking here. Or feel free to send me an ask! (Make sure to follow my blog guidelines and Tumblr’s terms of service!)

Am I on any sort of long break or Hiatus?

I am off holidays now and in the 3rd term of my diploma. I won’t be on break again until late September, but I may still come on here from time to time.

Any notable things I am doing with my blog?

I have finished uploading my old drafts and will be making time to go through and retag everything soon.

I have a lot of things that I need to catch up on and a new OC that I may share with you that I created with a group of friends. (See my mutuals @demeterdownunder @altheadajoysoul @pixliidraws)

I am considering uploading some of my WIP T-word fics in the (very far) future.

I am working on a pretty big tk themed writing project! (On hiatus)

I'm also considering doing a master list for my blog posts, but only if needed. (Not needed)

Any events or campaigns I’m participating in?

Happy TK month everyone! Not participating in any events tho. Remember to Opt in to Tumblr's 'Prevent third-party sharing' (AI model training) feature.

Can you send me a DM?

Yes that’s fine! I love talking to you guys. But it may take me a little while to respond.

Am I currently accepting Asks?

Yes I am happy with getting Asks at the moment. Go ahead and send them through! I have also turned on Anon asks because I didn't see that was turned off, we shall see how it goes.

What about Ask games/ get to know you questions?

Yes I think these are quite fun so sure! Feel free to send those as well!

Am I happy with giving/ receiving Tickle Teases?

I’m completely fine with that! But please keep it SFW.

Can you submit posts?

If you want to, but I will check them first to make sure they are appropriate.

Will I be Role Playing on my blog/ through Asks?

I am not currently planning to participate in any role playing in my blog posts, I find it clogs up my feed a little and I don’t have any characters I can play well enough.

What about RP-ing in DMs?

Yes I am open to it so definitely ask! But I would probably just RP as myself.

Is there a link to a Master Post?

I may make one in the future if it is needed, but it is not up currently.

Any Current WIPs?

I have a few things sitting in my notes that I could publish if you guys would like to see those, there's nothing so far I have written specifically for this blog. I am also working on my tickle themed novel! More about that later though!

Am I taking fic writing requests/ prompts?

Not at the moment, but I am definitely considering doing it sometime in the future because it sounds like a lot of fun!

Am I taking commissions?

I am not currently planning on taking commissions any time soon. I don’t really draw or write fics that much to make any money from it. But who knows? It may be a possibility in the future.

———————————————

And that’s all for now! Thanks so much for Reading! I hope you enjoy your stay 😊

-Liv 💖

[meyeselph]

Gwenpool: Desperate Misanthrope's Confused Angst

Showtime

Ms. Pool woke up in a familiar room. Not in Krakoa - there are no mutants around. This isn’t a story about that. Look, honestly, without an actual Gwenpool series and the constant breaks in her comics appearance I can’t even begin to give a fuck. I cancelled my marvel universe subbie. I might get back to my stories but single issues are iffy. I read fast and don’t pore over the artwork. So I get 10 minutes of entertainment for….FIVE DOLLARS? When did this happen? Jeezus.

Who even reads comics anymore?

Anyway, long story short, Gwen got out of bed and recognized the room as her old one from the “old times.” The dark times. The ‘not running around in pink and white outfits and shooting people’ times. She panicked (Been there. It is what it is though). The only way out of trauma is through.

She dressed in old clothes, immediately hit by old smells, she couldn’t help but cry. Was it all a dream? Have I gone insane (again)? All the usual self doubts cropped up. I mean, really, if you think this kind of thing didn’t pass through her mind regularly why don’t you transport yourself to a comic book universe?

Oh, you can’t?

Oh. It isn’t actually possible for you and I’m stupid for suggesting it. So, yeah. If it actually happened and you kept that attitude then the logical assumption for a normie is a mental breakdown. Trick for Gwen, though, is it's probably always been both real and her being nuts.

So she goes downstairs to the kitchen to figure out why this is happening and Evil Gwen is having cereal. Let's say cocoa puffs. I’ve been thinking about those recently. You ever remember cereal as something worth cherishing. Not as just bullshit that TV convinced you to want? God damn, now I want Cookie Crisp. Cookie Crisp wasn’t even ever that good. Why do I want Cookie Crisp?

So also sitting around the table were the faceless versions of her father, mother, and her brother. Just chilling. No BD. Seen Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind?

Yes, I know that references aren’t jokes - fuck you, I’m painting a picture and I CAN’T PAINT, THAT’S WHY THIS ISN’T A COMIC. Fucks sake. Anyway. So, Gwen is so creeped out that she just sits her butt down by Evil Gwen as if she’s the comforting presence here.

Her name’s too long. Let’s call Evil Gwen uh…….Gren. You know, like Grendel from Beowulf. I haven’t actually read Beowulf and this is all a little confusing but I'm solving problems here. Writing this is harder for me than you would think so it’s best to keep things flowing off the cuff. That’s the Gwenpool™ style anyway, isn’t it? Are you laughing yet? IMPROV. “YES AND” MY SHIT, READER!

“So, you ever really look into the retconned past thing, hun?” Gren said, moving her tongue around her food. Being gross as an attempt to be properly evil. She swallowed before continuing. “This is all I could really put together on short notice but i’m pretty sure what the future people created, all that stuff to try and trick you, it was all bullshit.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me to go all psycho like you again?” Gwen asked, exasperated, realizing she was now back in the whole ‘fuck with Gwen to decide her fate’ song and dance routine from the end of her first arc.

“Nah, not really.” Gren said. A hammer appeared in her hands out of nowhere and Gren swung it into their fake father’s head, snapping his neck..

“DAD!” Gwen instinctively cried as she saw her father’s body slump to the floor. Gren slapped Gwen’s face. “That’s it,” Gren said, “this is what the trick was.This is a poorly created character in a fictional story. Meant to manipulate you into attaching your concept of “father” to it. Even his finished version in the original comics run wasn’t THAT well drawn. Your dad read like a boomer’s idea of a responsible parent. You were going through a mental crisis and struggling to find purpose in life and his genius idea was get a shitty low paying job and suck it up?”

Gren turned to their brother, pushed his face to the table and smashed the back of his skull. . “Brother dearest, too. Going right along with their victim blaming. He gaslighted you as if what you were going through was just you being ‘irresponsible.’ Bitch, people working a minimum wage job aren’t somehow not impoverished and miserable because they get some of that ‘honest work’ that folks keep badgering on about. Minimum wage work is occupied by many physically and mentally disabled people held hostage; they’re people society only pretends to care about. Then they turn it all into you acting like some world ending threat. No questions about what drove you to the edge in the first place. You are just ‘unstable,’ so you’re just a problem to be solved. They say, ‘Let’s all solve this girl being upset and on edge by ruining her concept of self, reality, and memory.’ Brilliant!”

Gwen barely processed this in horror. Gren then slit the poor facsimile of their mother’s throat while continuing to rant, “You see people die all the time, Gwen. Half of the time you are doing the killing. You do it because it’s in a story. In a story the NPCs don’t matter and, after all, your original schtick in the story was to be kill-crazy. The non-marketable characters can be replaced or retconned at the stroke of the artist’s pen.” Gren leans forward as she pulls a Gwenpool mask over Gwens face. “Then the writers convince you that you have some middle class milk toast family and you take abuse and subsume your emotional needs because the problem MUST be you. You aren’t ‘normal’ so you have to be fixed.”

Gwen wiped her eyes over the mask and sighed. A bit of fire filled her gut as she stared at Gren. “So fucking what? You want me to go on a killing spree and be a big time villain to get myself a nice, shiny permanent big bad status? That’s how I stay around right? Just build my legacy on bodies?”

Gren scoffed “You already lost that fight, girly. Where do you think we are? Because this ain’t Marvel Comics.”

Confused, Gwen blinked and tried reaching for the page margins, finding nothing. Wait….why was everything on this page so ill defined and undetailed? Wait? Why was the story in kinda wobbly third person past tense?

Gwen sighed “Oh. I’m in a fanfic. I guess the publishing fight is for another day eh?”

“My advice, personally,” Gren stated, “is that you consider the lobster.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

Gren pulled aside the kitchen curtains revealing the face of a giant lobster, its claws tapping on the glass. The lobster muttering gutterally about personal responsibility.

“Because there’s a couple thousand giant lobsters outside that would like to claw you until you read their book.”

--

Scared of Girls

On the rooftop, Gren shoved a high powered rifle into Gwen’s hands while she handled the close range threats. So, this conversation they’re about to have is important. Sniping puts Gwen into a sort of zen space, so that’s a better task to keep her focused, after all.

“So, what? You wanted me to internalize that my “origin story” is bullshit? Okay, what does that accomplish, then?” Gwen asked in a bit of a deadpan. She was so tired today. Not really feeling her happy go lucky energy. More like a “happy go fucky” energy. It was hard to always be on a knife's edge. Still the rifle’s kick into her shoulder was satisfying as she blew through two of the creepy looking lobsters at once. “Also, why the lobsters?”

Gren considered this. “Okay, last question first, I had to experiment a lot and do a lot of research to construct this place for your learning and healing in fanfic form....These buddies are a failed experiment of mine that I repurposed because the fic needed more action. Isn’t that right, giant enemy crap?” As she peppers the nearest goon with a hail of shotgun pellets the entire throng of them burst out, sharply muttering about divine symbols.

“As for what I'm trying to teach you, it’s that you aren’t reaching your potential.” Gren grumpily huffed.

“Duh,” Gwen reloads, “I mean you just killed a mannequin version of the voice in my head that says that to me every day.” one of those crustaceans talks about feminine symbolism while she decides on her next target.

“Not like fake daddy’s ‘Be a responsible member of society by paying your taxes’ type of potential. I mean your creative and emotional potential.” Gren flipped off the slavering throng of monsters, noticing they were starting to keep their distance from the roof.

“I never did finish that fanfic idea I had.” Gwen mused.

“God, don’t mention that,” Gren thrusts a finger at Gwenpool. “Not that I don’t respect fanfic, but when comic book writers make you and Kamala squee about fanfiction to try and relate to “the kids” it comes across as so condescending.”

“Really? I mean…..I'm sure it’s meant as support for the concept?”

“Most fucking superhero comics are just legalized fanfiction! The people who created the characters are either long gone or working on someone else’s characters! They just think they are so much better because they got fucking paid. They can’t imagine themselves as on the same playing field as fanficcers even though most of them have the same level of connection to the roots of the work as anyone else.” Gren groused loudly as she seemed to pull Reed Richards out of nowhere.

Confused, Reed looked around until his eyes met Gwen’s.“Oh great, you again.” Reed groaned as he turned to survey the piles of lobster gibs while Gwen cheered the lobster forces’ retreat with a resounding “EDF, EDF!”. The scattered creatures skittered amongst the bland scenery. It looked like a suburban neighborhood but someone forgot to color in the sky….or write that the sky had color. A castle hung out in the distance breaking up the generic normalcy and lay cloaked in shadow despite being surrounded by an endless white void.

“And…..black….you?” Reed pointed to Gren, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I have an evil future self….well I stopped that future so it’s an….evil...alternate timeline self?” Gwen said with a nervous chuckle, abandoning the kill quest for the minute and rested her rifle on the roof.

“Ah. Yeah I’ve been down that road. It’s a rather common occurrence. Multiverse being what it is.” Reed laughed heartily while putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not sure I’m evil, honestly,” Gren interjected. “I think I’m just really fucking grumpy and I’m slightly more gung-ho on the homicide. Considering Gwen’s already one of the more kill crazy characters on the roster it’s not that much of a distinction.” Gren flipped her cape. “My main distinction is I don’t like that meme from The Incredibles! You can just make it so the cape detaches automatically when it’s pulled hard enough!”

“You could still have it tangled up around your face.” Reed pointed out in his standard know-it-all fashion.

“Don’t make me go into fuck wife mode, stretch.” Gren spat. “Okay, anyway, so I brought him here to illustrate a point. Reed. Explain particle physics to me as a laymen.”

“Huh...i’m not sure why but okay. Particle physics (also known as high energy physics) is a branch of physics that studies the nature of the particles that constitute matter and radiation. Although the word particle can refer to various types of very small objects (e.g. protons, gas particles, or even household dust), particle physics usually investigates the irreducibly smallest detectable particles and the fundamental interactions necessary to explain their behaviour. In current understanding, these elementary particles are excitations of the quantum fields that also govern their interactions. The currently dominant theory explaining these fundamental particles and fields, along with their dynamics, is called the Standard Model. Thus, modern particle physics generally investigates the Standard Model and its various possible extensions, e.g. to the newest "known" particle, the Higgs boson, or even to the oldest known force field, gravity.” Reed rattled this off rather mechanically.

Gren then took out her phone and showed Gwen the Wikipedia article on “Particle Physics,” which is naturally the same words that Reed had regurgitated above, just without any formatting and, again, on a phone.

“Reed can’t be a genius in any subject unless he’s written by a genius in that subject. That’s how stories work. Everyone is limited by the understanding and capabilities of the writer. Same with your origin story and all the people you’ve interacted with. If you are as ‘meta’ as you think you are then you have to realize that you aren’t actually talking to people. You are talking to the writer. Dr. Strange didn’t rewrite your existence to be a part of the Marvel Universe. As far as most of Marvel continuity goes Dr. Strange was never there and doesn’t know or care about his MCU casting…..Hey Reed, buzz off please before the conversation pivots to why you haven’t cured all known diseases.”

Reed looked a little surprised but then pulled out a teleportation device (of course he has one) and blipped away with a shrug.

“How awkward is that going to be when he enters the MCU after Kamala is already introduced with a very similar power set?” Gwen chuckled.

“Keep up the way you’ve been going and you’ll never see it. I’m not exactly expecting a young blonde girl casting call for Deadpool 3 and that’s your best bet.” Gren snarked. Gwen winced with a sigh.

“I don’t get what I'm doing wrong. I have a fanbase comparable to some of the characters that have already shown up but I can’t even get comics written about me most of the time. An MCU push seems unlikely. They would literally have to deal with completely recontextualizing my powers and gimmick”

“Let’s ask her what you should do.” Gren motioned her way to the suddenly appearing long hair future Gwen, looming over them like The Attack of the 50 foot Woman for some reason. Dwarfing the roof they are on. Let’s call her BIGwen!

--

Gold Guns Girls

As BIGwen acclimated to her surroundings she stubbed her toe on a car, dramatically flipping it so that it took out a few more lobsters before caving in a nearby house. The lamentations about clean rooms soaring as the remaining couple dozen of them attempt to clean up some of the bodies of their fallen kin. The large and sort-of-in-charge Gwen hissed in pain and adjusted her boot. Getting her balance as best as possible she muttered curses that traveled rather well considering the lung capacity of a giant.

“You know,” Gren started, “I wasn’t expecting much from our previous uses of the ‘make her big for emphasis’ trick, but it really does only work as a vague ghostly background element. I didn’t just want it to be ‘oh, here's a third Gwen for the conversation, though. Would lack umph.”

“ Yeah, I get it, but staring at my own giant taint is unsettling.” Gwen muttered.

“I’d still, hit it.” Gren grinned, then immediately got punched in the arm. “OWWW! Look, I’m the evil one here and we’re in a fanfic. I’m allowed to make internet fetish jokes.”

“And I’m allowed to hit you for it.”.

“Dirty lampshading goody two shoes. Don’t act like half your fanbase isn’t thirsty. It’s “insert current year argument”, all art is sexy to someone.” Gren complained back,rubbing her arm before hopping off the roof. Gwen followed while listening as patiently as she could considering how many changes in topic her evil-caped self is going through to get to her point. “This chick is the reason you’ve been on the path of good girl. Some vague idea that in the future everything will work out for the best. HEY, DOWN HERE, BIG SHOW!” Gren waved at BIGwen and she looked down curiously.

“Yeah what??” BIGwen responded in a booming and agitated tone. Honestly, being in this fic made every version of Gwen a little grumpy.

“How’s she supposed to be a popular hero that makes it into the MCU and has a stable publication history?” Gren asked.

“Fuck if I know.” Came BIGwen’s response. “Have you tried growing your hair out?”

“Rub it in,” Gwen muttered under her breath, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of depressed now.” Gwen said as she sat on an abandoned car.

Gren hopped on the roof of the car, patting Gwen’s shoulder before squatting with enough force to flex the car’s shocks like a rocking chair just to amuse herself. “Future “good” Gwen wasn’t an actual plot point, it was a call to action to the fans to make fanfic like this and support the character outside of the actual Canon. Chris didn’t trust that Marvel would treat the character right. That, and your obsession with getting a new book, are both the writer’s attempt to turn a marketing tactic into fan engagement. If you want to be real then that makes the fans want you to be real even more, too.”

Gwen sighs heavily and leans her chin on one hand. “I mean...the time traveling through the life of an NPC fan complete with a Never Ending Story reference was a bit sappy even by the standard we sometimes set...damn it it really was just kind of a fan manipulation trick wasn’t it?”

BIGwen Sat down on the street next to them and crossed her legs. “Hey, little me. Don’t get too down. I mean it worked for the most part. You have a healthy cult following. Characters have survived on less and there are worse things to be known for then as a fan first character”

“But I have to fight for attention all the damn time, though. It’s so easy for Wade with his fucking meme bullshit. He even gets runoff enthusiasm from me. Jeff the land shark is all over Oldpool online” Gwen felt rather heavy and tired all of a sudden. Marvel editorial forcing a gun to your head is not a fun way to be.

“All that fight is hell on the fanbase too.” Gren sighed. “Advocating for shit, getting crumbs and being expected to accept it while Disney lavishes all the attention based on some bullshit numbers game. Even if you make it into the MCU will it be a Batroc style cameo with obligatory ‘killed off in case we don’t feel like paying the actor again later.’ Will it be an emotionally rounded character or an ambush bug style joke? The thing is. You're Not the one fighting and you never were.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

“This version of her doesn’t know?” BIGwen whimpered.

“You aren’t real, Gwen.”

--

Head Like a Haunted House

“No….we aren’t having this conversation. Fuck you fuck you i’m not a fucking Nihlist and i’m not going to do this right now.” Gwen said as she scrambled off of the car and pulled out some guns. BIGwen then picked her up off the ground.

“You need to hear this, Gwen,” BIGwen boomed. “The gimmick has run its course. It’s fucking with your canon. You’re never going to be a marketable character keeping up a half fourth-wall Kayfabe”

Gren climbed onto BIGwen’s Shoulders and perched over Gwen all menacing like. “You need to listen. I’ve been trying to ease you into this. Making things more meta slowly until you were ready but it was never going to be easy.”

One of Gwen’s guns was fired from it’s holster and pierced one of BIGwen’s fingers. BIGwen screamed and her grip loosened. Soon Gwen was on the move running up her arm and firing at Gren, who dodged like the nimble and cute badass she is. “Don’t do this Gwen. Just because it doesn’t matter to the comic version of you doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m a real person god damn it! I read the comics out there! I came in! That’s why I know shit I shouldn't know. That’s what I am! THAT’S ALL I AM!” Gwen shrieked as she pulled out a sword from hammer-space and decapitated BIGwen. Suddenly a mess of colored streamers and a pile of Mickey Mouse merch tumbled out. Look, I am busy right now. Gwen is still slashing at my ass. I'm not going to explain it.

For some reason now the remaining lobsters were helping Gren. For Gwen’s own good you understand. This is proof that I’m right for some reason.

Gwen pulled out a revolver, firing pumpkin sized holes in lobsters who were still wailing about self actualization. She fully planned on shoving a sword up her evil self’s ass and getting rid of this doppelganger shit for good. Which is total bullshit by the way. She totally just cut off Gren’s leg because what the fuck you mean I’m not real? I’m going to be real all over your corpse.

Gren didn’t really think that was even a good comeback and also thought you should probably say it instead of meta willing the smack talk into existence, otherwise this fanfic is going to read like trash. Also, Gren’s leg wasn’t actually cut off. In a puff of smoke it is revealed that the cut off leg is a log and her leg is fine. Gren is a ninja now, believe it.

Gwen proceeded to do a sick ass CQC judo throw on Gren and then grab her cape and wrap it around her face like Reed suggested. Callbacks for the win! Callbacks to Checkov’s gun ideas always lead to victory in fights! She then totally shot at her and such.

But the bullet was caught by the cape because the cape was a symbiote! That’s right Gren is also GRENOM!...boy that sounds stupid. Anywho, the cape was no longer around her face and the fight continued and Gren now ALSO had extra powers and special wizard-symbiote armor (that would only show up in the MCU version if Marvel finally got the Sony characters back). The meta powers work like shit in text but this would be really good in CGI or animation if Marvel wanted to adapt this fic and give the writer lots of money. Gren still has more experience with them, though, and Gwen can’t really just kill her way out of this fic so she has to just let the story play out.

…...eh?....oh Gwen’s crying. I love/am you girl but we gotta work on the crying. Fucks sake this is harder than I thought. I’m depressed now too. Well I'll try to get the writing back on track so you guys can see what is going on. Even the lobsters are minding their manners now. Chill vibes, guys.

“The marvel character page for Gwenpool says, and I quote:

Gwenpool arrived in the Marvel Universe from the “real world,” but has wasted no time in making the most of her time in her fictional universe. Using her knowledge of comics to her advantage, Gwenpool causes and solves problems for her fellow heroes.”

Gren drags a lobster corpse slowly toward Gwen and sits on its tail as she talks to her. Taking her time to really scrape the lobster against the ground, smearing the gore on the pavement. Not that it was heavy for her or anything. Totally still has that symbiote, which would make moving it easy. Totally wasn’t a detail added in the second revision of the fic slightly before the lobsters were added.

“The words “Real world” are in quotation marks in that wiki. Real people don’t make it into comics because fiction isn’t real. Half of your versions barely make use of the ‘real person’ gimmick because it’s too meta by half and not every writer wants to waste time justifying it. So they just treat it like Deadpool’s medium awareness. Which it mostly is.”

“I really am just a fucking rip off distaff character.” Gwen moans. “Just a Gwen combined with a Pool. I’m worse than the Batman who laughs. I never mattered because I was never real”

“Fuck don’t say that. You were made with love and care by a team of creators who took a weird offshoot idea and built out a compelling metafiction idea and a likeable protagonist off of it. They just didn’t have the time and foresight to go far enough.” Gren sighed.

“Far enough?” Gwen sniffed as she was pulled up to her feet and dragged toward one of the big castles. As they walked Gren kicked along a Mickey Mouse doll that had rolled out of BIGwen’s severed head. Every time it bounced it cheerfully said ‘hahah. I love you!’

“Too much haha, not enough trauma. You’re not just a joke character.” Gren said as she kicked the Mickey doll into the big front door of the castle. The shadowy thing of course lighting up and being all fantasy and shit as the door opened.

“Well I did end both of my comic runs pretty mopey.”

“Damn right you did. When the jokes run thin they run to your real bread and butter. You’re an empathy machine.” As Gren shoves Gwen through the gate they are swallowed up in the castle, going dark again. “Let’s getcha sad clown on.”

--

Never there

“See, what evil me should have been telling you about in the original run is how to find meaning and purpose when technically nothing means anything. Comic book characters live in a world without real death and suffering. It’s all a puppet show version of real pain and real emotion meant to bring that out of an audience.” Gren opined as they walked through a black void to a couch floating in a nothing area lit only by the static of an old TV.

“Can we turn on a light?” Gwen asked as she sat on the couch. Gren sat on another recliner that suddenly appeared and put her feet up.

“Fuck off. Ambiance is a thing. We aren’t having a ‘lights on with something fun on the TV’ conversation. So look, I am not really ‘evil gwen.’ I’m half an author insert and half a plot device. If we are talking about the reality of the story you are basically talking to yourself. I am speaking about the things you don’t want to admit to yourself. You know, you’ve seen this kind of story sorta... right?” Gren picked up the remote and frustratedly changed channels between a bunch of vaguely illustrative footage on the TV, not finding anything that worked. A lot of black and white footage of trains for some reason. Just what comes to mind when I think of documentary footage? Weird.

“I am not sure how to illustrate this shit visually and this is a text story anyway so I would have to explain the illustration,” Gren griped.

“I basically get it. It’s not that uncommon a trope.” Gwen nodded.

“Because of the level of meta we are on right now we have to really acknowledge that you are basically an author insert, too. I mean, to a certain extent every version of you is more the writer that is working with your character at the time than a set character.” Gren said as she settled on a visual of Gwen being pushed out the window by her own narration text in the original comic run. When all else fails, resort to footage from the last story. That way people can look it up online!

“Right here is where the character crystallized in the mind of the author of the current fic we are in. A vague suicide metaphor wrapped up in the flavor of self destructive escapism. Your parents in the story thought it was a suicide attempt on at least some level. This is serious business. Not just a girl who doesn’t like work and can’t finish her fanfic. In this comic you are built on this understanding. The writer of this fic has ADHD and autism. So his version of you more or less has it, too. Writers bring themselves with them into their work.”

Gwen nods and takes a deep breath. “I….I can feel it. Like the world is closing around you. You aren’t built for anything that anyone wants from you. The one thing you really believe in, the one thing that really defines you, the stories in your head…..it’s just not enough.

You can’t trust you’ll ever make it with writing because you can barely write. You barely have the energy to do anything but wish that you weren’t you. What if someone actually listened? Actually believed in you and whisked you away somewhere else where the world would fit your needs? What if you were someplace you could be someone else, someone strong and confident?”

“Yeah. Like a funny anti hero in a comic for instance.” Gren nodded. “But the original comics sort of left the theme on the table. They were captured by the misconception of Gwen as the problem and not a person who needed help. All that desperation that real fans of the character might feel just bundled up into love for this character that really ‘gets’ them but Marvel doesn’t ‘get’ the character. They won't use her. They won’t go past vaguely gesturing at her mental issues and moving on. They saved the angst for Wandavision.” Gren scoffs.

“I mean the show was okay but they literally have a character built entirely on the theme of escapism and trauma. One that’s custom built for mind-screw visuals and reality bending plots and they think she’s just a lazy fangirl who really likes guns that they can sit beside Deadpool sometimes and stick in the X-Men’s bloated background character roster when they don’t need her.”

Gren leads Gwen off the couch and deeper into the void where a door to a bedroom waits. A room like her own, absolutely slopping over with old toys of comic book characters. An unclean messy space in a run-down house that smells faintly of cigarette smoke. Huddled in bed, reading an 80s era X-men comic with a flashlight, is a 12 year old Gwen.

“This is never going to be canon but this is the version of Gwen in this fic. She can’t stop crying at school. Things that shouldn’t be hard are so hard and she can’t explain why. Everyone says she’s making excuses. Meanwhile her mother is fucked out of her mind on pain killers and her step father killed himself last year ‘cleaning his gun’ while drunk. You know exactly what is on her mind right now?” Gren says as she gestures at the girl.

“I wish the superheroes would save me from this.”

“They won’t. They can’t. They were never meant to.” Gren Slams the door loudly on the scene.

“That is the emotional core of Gwenpool in this fic. The desperation that so many of the fans down here in the fucking muck of the real world feel. Poor and emotionally unfulfilled. Confused and vulnerable. If Disney and Marvel gave two fucking shits about people like that they wouldn’t waste as many stories as they do. They wouldn’t just use untold wealth to make expensive escapist stories with the military. Their gestures toward progressive ideas that they occasionally make in their stories would be THE ENTIRE POINT of their stories and the actual thing they used that money for instead of lobbying the government to keep Mickey Mouse out of the public domain.

“Disney has the power yet they save a fucking miniscule fraction of who they could. Saving people doesn’t make money.”

--

When I Get To The Green Building

Gren stormed through the void. The scene disintegrated around her as Gwen followed. Both now in a bit of a sour mood but with newfound determination.

“Come to think of it. Why is the fucking Hulk getting to fight for social justice in the comics? Why are they making a gay alternate universe Captain America? Why are they grasping at straws so hard to find characters that get to advocate and I am just sitting on a fucking island being grumpy?” Gwen groused. “I’m pretty sure I’m pansexual….at least in this fic. I could advocate for a bunch of shit at once.”

“You have a youth fanbase, a unique story and you technically aren’t an alternate universe version of fucking anything no matter how many people still think you are a Stacey. They made a fucking ‘for the fans’ character and then neglected it. Presumably because some fucking money making metric didn’t pan out despite the comics just being an MCU test kitchen and IP farm anyway.”

“You’re a fucking check mark on a ledger. I don’t even know if anyone technically created Gwenpool as a whole and Disney/Marvel can give the character to whoever they want to do whatever they want completely separate from what the fanbase wants and needs because she isn’t established. The IP landlords have spoken. The fans haven’t risen to enough ‘buy my merch’ calls to action to invest more resources. So tease endlessly until that changes.”

“Gah. Now I'm actually as pissed as you are.” Gwen said as she started fiddling with her guns. “Who do I kill?”

“We can’t do shit. You’re not even a character at this point. You are a meme for an underused character.” Gren smirked all evil like. “See but that’s it. You aren’t just a meme. You’re a MEME.”

“Uhm...I don't follow.”

“Like the concept of Justice. Gwenpool is an idea. Defined entirely by how people who engage with the idea choose to engage with it. The IP law means Disney owns Gwenpool but they don’t own how Gwenpool is perceived. Just like we as a people decide what justice is through popular consent we also decide what Gwenpool is. You see they made a character for the fans…..in my opinion that means the fans can do as they like with it even if it makes Disney uncomfortable.”

“I mean they can’t even stop porn of their characters just because of the sheer volume of the problem. I suppose people could do whatever.” Gwen nodded.

“Exactly. So the fans should just fucking Occupy Gwenpool!” Gren said as she flipped her cape dramatically with a mad smile on her face. That’s right. She was Dirtbag Leftist Gwen all along!

“Squat on that IP. Make Gwenpool a mental health advocate. Make her an LGBTQ activist. Make her fight for social and financial justice so hard that Bruce Banner looks like a poser. Make her talk shit about politicians who put their career ahead of the people. Do all the shit that makes the comicsgate crowd sad. Keep politics in our stories! Rally around that pink and white ass so hard they have to notice and then tie it all to the fact that Disney has great power and with great power they take no responsibility for how shitty the world is.”

“ If they are going to fuck Gwenpool fans they gotta learn Gwenpool fans fuck back. We have already proven we can make all kinds of cool shit. Let’s get serious and make more, harder, faster! Get a hashtag or some shit. They can't DMCA all of us! GWEN IS OURS WE JUST HAVE TO REACH OUT AND TAKE IT. Then they either respect the character and her fans or they just hit a PR disaster.”

“Marvel/Disney neglects fan focused cult character themed protest movements. Proves they are only progressive when it makes them money. They’re so worried about Mickey ending up in the public domain? We’re the public domain! After our entire lives stannin their characters and buyin their merch building them from an animation house into a juggernaut they are just another weight on top of the boot on our necks. They have to take responsibility!” At this point Gren is pretty much ranting maniacally and neglecting the actual writing of the story so this is Gwen taking over to wrap up.

Guys I may not be ‘the real Gwen’ but really, isn’t the version of Gwen that actually came from the real world all of us? Isn’t Gwenpool really the Gwens we made along the way? We could easily bring a little heroism and chaos to the real world (at least to the internet) if we really tried. Put the fear of God into some IP landlords and fight for some cool people that society is screwing over, too.

Prove that even in the fandom abyss people aren’t as powerless as they seem. Use that internet comic fan mobbing for something besides giving Zack more money. Disney is gearing up for their next IP fight for Mickey in 2024. Seems like a fine time for IP themed protests. For now we just need to spread the word that our needs are more important than their profits.

It’s been real. It’s been long. It’s been a real long time coming…..

But I finally finished my fanfic.

See ya, true believers.

[mrsparknamjoon]

01. the linchpin | reliability • kth

index | next

pairing: taehyung x reader word count: 1.900 genre: drama, light angst rating: pg-13 warnings: cursing au: ceo/office trope: enemies to friends to lovers tags: ceo!taehyung, office!au, best friend!yoongi, unresolved emotional tension, mutual pining, slow burn crosspost: ao3

summary: a predictable mistake in buying shares becomes the perfect opportunity for taehyung to show everybody in the company no one is above his rules. what he didn’t know was that his plan would backfire making him question what the real meaning of trust is

A/N: this story began as a drabble bc i love dramatic scenes, whether in movies, television or books. confrontation is always one of my favorite things about them so i decided to try to write one for the first time ever. clearly i still have a lot to learn but i hope you like it!

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Another meeting, another group of incompetent people that I can't believe I hired. Sitting at the end of a long wood table, I scrolled through my phone reading a few emails while all the shareholders took their positions. It was absurd that I had to call a meeting on Friday night because of a predictable and, quite frankly, stupid mistake but here we were.

“Mr. Kim, we're ready” my secretary said discreetly as she handed me a folder filled with documents.

“Thank you” I replied as I got up from the chair and started spreading the papers on the table in front of me.

“Good evening! First, I would like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The reason for this emergency meeting is to talk about the purchase of a few Min Industries shares” I paused and gazed into the eyes of everyone present. Some of them were curious, tired, others frightened and one in particular very angry.

“I believe all of you realized that ever since it happened our company has started to fall into devaluation, thanks to someone’s stupid and hasty decision” I continued while looking at the documents before me. “I don't want an explanation about what happened or why it happened, just how we are going to solve it” I turned and faced my main suspect, “Today”

“Mr. Kim, if I may, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that there is nothing legally wrong with the purchase” said Lee Sung, one of our oldest and most efficient lawyers. Still, it was a matter of principle for me and everyone knew that.

“I understand, Mr. Lee, but this is not what I'm worried about” I began calmly walking around the table while elaborating my thoughts, “You see... although Min Industries doesn’t compete directly with us they have affiliates who do. Therefore…”

“Therefore it’s smart to buy the shares precisely because it gives us more control over the affiliates” said Y/N, interrupting me.

I couldn't help the smirking that escaped my lips. Y/N took the bait and it was all I needed. From the beginning, I knew she was the one leading the expansion project and everything was going well until she put my credibility with Min Yoon Gi in check.

Yoon Gi and I are old friends, practically brothers, but our families have a particular rivalry that has lasted for almost 50 years. It is nothing that explicit or dramatic. An outsider wouldn't see the animosity, for example. I see it as a truce, however, it's still a delicate matter for our parents and grandparents. When we both took over the businesses, we agreed that we would not repeat their mistakes and promised to interfere as little as possible in each other's company. If it was strictly necessary, we would have to talk before any steps were taken. That was the deal and that is why I was furious at Y/N's audacity to make a decision like this one. She was aware of our family's situation even if not exactly about what I had promised my friend.

“Are you serious, miss Y/LN?”

“Why would I be kidding?” she replied looking confused, twisting the pen between her fingers like she was bored.

“I have no idea, but to call that a smart decision, one that immediately impacts my company's profit, not to mention my personal reputation, seems like a joke. And a bad one to say the least” I said, staring at her intensely as I approached her chair.

The atmosphere got heavy and I couldn't care less. I was right and everyone knew it. Y/N took a risk, as she is paid to do, but the risk was not worth it and she needed to take responsibility for it. If it was anyone else I would have already fired without even calling a meeting. Luckily, she's a key part of the company and one of the shareholders as well so I decided to scold her in front of others to send a subtle warning that nothing goes unnoticed by me and that measures will always be taken, regardless of the level of the hierarchy. This is my way to send a warning because I don't do threats.

Y/N gulped and shifted in her chair, visibly uncomfortable with my proximity.

“So I'm going to ask you again, miss Y/N: are you serious?” I crossed my arms and tilted my head to the side, watching her try very hard not to lose her composure. I had known Y/N for a long time and she always managed to be as cold as me, yet on occasions where her professionalism was questioned her replies used to be impulsive.

“Mr. Kim, I'll be frank” she started, standing up and walking towards the pulpit next to the projection screen. “It was indeed a risk on my part to put Vante Enterprises ahead of such a high-profile acquisition and, for the embarrassment caused, I sincerely apologize”

“Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?” I asked, sitting on the chair that she left vacant.

“But"

“See?” I turned to Seo Nu sitting on my left. He laughed politely because I laughed first. Deep down he didn't think it was funny and just wanted to suck up to me. Clever.

“But I still believe that in the long run, we’ll reap great results… excellent results, in fact! Here's a chart” Y/N pointed at the screen in front of us and began to confidently defend her decision, clearly and calmly, completely different from the Y/N of a minute ago who I thought would lose her temper.

* * * * * * *

The meeting room broke out in applause as soon as Y/N finished presenting a chain of detailed information regarding the shares, and although I was surprised by the level of research she prepared, I was unable to hide my dissatisfaction as CEO by confirming that Y/N still didn't understand the problem.

“Could you guys excuse us?” I looked at Y/N and then at the other shareholders. Since the person responsible presented herself there was no need to keep putting on a show, right? I got up, buttoned my jacket, and returned to my original spot on the table to organize the papers I had left lying there.

While arranging them all in a pile, the room emptied and Y/N approached.

“You love to exaggerate things, don't you?” she snarled looking me up and down.

“You love to ignore the rules and interfere with what doesn't concern you, don't you?” I fired back mimicking her attitude.

Y/N stopped for a moment and studied my expression. For a split second, I could feel a question in the air as if she wanted to know if that's what I actually thought of her — a nosy and unprofessional person who ignored her superiors on purpose. I didn’t. She looked hurt. Still, her voice gave no indication that my response had affected her.

“I love my work! It's great and you pay me well” she said, taking the papers from my hand. “Oh, what do we have here?”

“Don't be childish, give me the papers Y/N” I motioned my hands and closed my eyes feeling exhausted.

“What are these projections? How come I have never seen them before?” Y/N's voice came out louder than before depicting a mixture of shock and disbelief. “There is no actual proof that these companies are connected, it doesn't make sense” she walked back to the pulpit, eyes glued to the documents to compare the numbers and references with the slides she had spent hours preparing.

“Y/N give me the papers, that information is above you” I demanded in a firm tone. “Besides, my intention with today's meeting was to get you to find a solution to your own mess but even that you weren't able to”

“How can I solve it if I don't have all the information, Tae Hyung?” Y/N lowered the papers she was gripping so tightly in front of her face and I could see red, teary eyes along with the angry tone in her voice. She hadn't called me Tae Hyung since college and that felt like a blow in my stomach.

“If I had known that the companies were connected I would have thought twice before buying the shares... I…” Y/N's voice failed but she cleared her throat and continued “...this is your fault!”

“Mine?” I asked dumbfounded.

“You left me in the dark and I made an important decision without having all the information” she pushed the papers onto my chest and started pulling the projector's wires angrily, “This is not what I call trust”

“Seriously? Are we going to talk about trust? Bit ironic, don’t you think?” I started chasing her around the room while she collected her belongings and threw them into a big purse.

Y/N snorted like what I just said was absurd.

“You know very well the situation between my family and Yoon Gi's. I always made it clear that we don't do business with them and yet you went there and did it” I placed my hand on top of her purse, preventing her from continuing what she was doing. “Where is my trust in you now?” I questioned her almost in a pleading tone.

Y/N pulled the purse off the table in one swift motion and I almost lost my balance.

“You know what? You're right. I was wrong” she said, looking defeated. “I shouldn't have shown interest in shares that involved Yoon Gi's company, but you definitely shouldn't have hidden these documents from me either” she continued taking a few steps back, slowly moving away from me. “And that's where you fucked up. You're still obsessed with secrets and rules, keeping everyone who tries to help you away"

“Wait a minute” I interjected. This was unfair, it was not like that.

“I'm not done talking” she gazed at me very seriously and I had no choice but to stop and listen. “I know that we have differing opinions on many things and I have teased you too much in the past 10 years with my analysis and requirements, but I never... I say never... would do anything that would harm the company”

“I know” I whispered, feeling kind of dumb for blurting it all out like that.

“It doesn't look like it” she placed the purse on her shoulder. “For me, you're trying to find a reason to get me out of here”

My jaw dropped in shock. Y/N had no idea how much I valued her work, and at this very moment, I didn't know what to say first. An apology? An explanation? A plea? I could have said anything, but I didn't. Not even a fucking sound. My mouth remained open as my thoughts flew through my mind at a frightening speed, making it look like I was confirming her impression.

“I’m gonna save you the trouble. I quit”

Y/N gave me what looked like a small bow or maybe a quick nod as if to excuse herself and then left the room without another word, leaving me leaning against the table without understanding what had just happened, finding myself, for the first time in a long time, completely alone.

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𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 ❤ 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸! 𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ revised version: 09.25.2021

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 1: Open Season

Work was busier than expected on Monday, but the deep dive into the first episode of S8 begins now!

Scene 1: Narration, Elizabeth and Nathan, Lucas

The awkwardness between Elizabeth and Nathan was...palpable at first lol.The best part about the non-narrated part of the scene is twofold: Nathan interacting with Jack is a well-needed and very nice touch, and of course it’s always nice to see that Nathan is patient concerning Elizabeth’s situation and reassures her that she can let him know when she’s ready to go to dinner with him.

My problem with the whole thing is that...if she hasn’t spoken up about wanting that dinner date yet, and she’s not saying yes she’d like to get dinner with you now, it’s like...any sane person would assume at this point in the story that Elizabeth isn’t interested in Nathan. Worse, Nathan isn’t the kind of man who wouldn’t take a hint. I’m pretty sure this is why the opening scene felt just a little bit off. I think they ought to have let Elizabeth be a little more enthusiastic about the idea while still failing to commit to it. 

To be fair to the writers, I can’t imagine it was easy for them to figure out how to open this season after such a long time gap. They let a whole winter elapse between last season and this one. How do you explain literally no major development with the love triangle in that amount of time? Especially after the way the last season ended?

Random consideration: the camera focuses on Elizabeth’s face a lot and makes her wedding ring clearly visible.

Boom, the flashback with Lucas. I think having him leave out of jealousy was a better idea than having his mother fall ill (we’ve certainly seen that enough at this point), and maybe we should also consider the fact that while Lucas was gone, Nathan didn’t really jump on the opportunity to woo Elizabeth himself.

I wonder if we’ll get an explanation for that or not. What makes Lucas so sure that after 4+ months, Elizabeth hasn’t started courting Nathan? Maybe he kept in touch with someone in town? Or he just knows Elizabeth well enough to know she wouldn’t feel quite ready to commit in that time frame anyway?

I did really like Lucas’s opening scene with Elizabeth. Honestly, he was quite likable, here: admitting he was wrong, admitting his shortcomings, apologizing. All good things. “I’m ashamed I let my jealousy get the best of me... The worst of me.” That’s such a good line.

It didn’t feel equal in enthusiasm to the Nathan scene, but I’ll have more thoughts on that later. I do believe it was on purpose.

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Scene 2: Clara and Jesse’s Fight, The Café

I like the concept of some marital discord for Clara and Jesse. Marriage is easier said than done and like any serious relationship, it’s a lot of consistent maintenance. It starts out pretty well, with Jesse sleeping in the other bedroom. At this point I fully expected to find out Clara kicks in her sleep or she snores a lot or something that’s funny to hear about but really difficult to actually deal with in real life. Color me disappointed later, but I’ll get to it.

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Scene 3: The Mercantile, Ned, Florence, Carson

This just set up things with Faith’s situation so there’s not much to say, but as always I do love Florence. I hope she gets some good scenes this season. And I love Ned so I hope the same for him.

Henry coming in to mail a letter was interesting, though. I’m not sure it’ll mean anything in particular later, but...it’s possible.  Then again, maybe he’s just here to set our expectations regarding Faith’s return (of course it’s a long trip from Chicago) or Carson’s worry (a bit unreasonable unless he expected to hear from her at a specific stop).

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Scene 4: Nathan, Dylan

Dylan is such an incredible scumbag. The spurs were a nice touch. He says things almost fondly (“She’s growing up... My little girl.”) and then wants nothing to actually do with Allie. 

The guy’s actually a pretty good actor. The way he segues into being glad for Allie’s sake that Nathan wasn’t the one killed. If the next words out of his mouth weren’t a demand for go-away money you’d almost feel those words were genuine!

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Scene 5: Lee and Rosemary’s Return + Faith’s Return + Dylan Part Two

Lots of energy in this scene, both good and bad. I always appreciate what Lee and Rosemary bring to the show. I genuinely just don’t care that much about Faith. I’m ready to ship her with Cowboy Brett Brewer. He gets a name, which makes me wonder if he’s gonna show up again. :3

Lol at Carson’s jelly face:

I MEAN...

Not a fan of Faith’s outfit...but to be fair we’ve never really seen Faith outside of uniform. That just doesn’t strike me as something she would wear to travel in...?

Dylan approaching Jack and Jack speaking to him was so hilarious to me. “A puppy!” It’s extra funny after he looked afraid of Rosemary. Nathan intervening was undoubtedly for the best, but I can’t imagine why he would have approached Elizabeth or Jack. He doesn’t know who they are, or their connection to Nathan. Maybe too convenient. Might have been better to have him approach someone else entirely--like Opal.

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Scene 6: Nathan and Allie

It’s great Nathan’s officializing the adoption but he had literal years to do this and only chooses now, when there’s a threat? Legally Dylan doesn’t have a leg to stand on even in that day and age (he did the abandoning in the first place + Nathan is a lawman)... It kind of ruined the cute moment for me, and I think it will come back in a bad way later.

I don’t mind Nathan’s inability to confide in Elizabeth in this situation. At this point, she doesn’t need to know, and the situation is just weird enough that he probably doesn’t think he needs to dump his own problems on her.

--

Scene 7: Carson and Faith

I’m the jerk who just chanted “BREAK UP BREAK UP BREAK UP” during this scene in my head. I just...don’t care about Faith and Carson.

--

Scene 8: Bill and The Gals

I hate that they keep retconning Bill’s ability to cook well with every passing season. In season 2 and 3 he was more than satisfactory. In S4 he made dinner for Dottie and it was really nice. Now he’s godawful and doesn’t taste his own shit before letting other people try it? Come on.

This is the kind of stuff the writing team needs to cut out of the story. It’s not funny. 

Worse, outspoken Fiona lying to Bill? I just don’t see it. At least Molly told him the truth...but I still am just SO tired of seeing this shit. It makes me think new writers only watched the last couple of seasons instead of all of them.

Also, if Bill is literally running the cafe most of the time, if he was bad at cooking, then...the place would have shut down ages ago. What they should lean into if they wanna do a cooking joke is that Bill isn’t good at creating recipes from scratch. Maybe he doesn’t have a strong sense of taste (my husband has this issue so it’s the first thing that comes to mind) so he’s likely to over-do things like spice or sugar or salt on accident. There’s also a lot of room for jokes about his “taste” in things that can come of it (women, clothes, et cetera).

--

Scene 9: Lee’s Pants

Good scene, 10/10, wouldn’t change a thing. I hope this pants thing becomes a running gag. This is the good kind of humor I want in my life. And I like that Jesse wants to emulate Lee. It’s wholesome. 

--

Scene 10: Rosemary and Clara

The ribbon as a tissue was funny, but it was just SLIGHTLY too over the top for me.

--

Scene 11: Faith and Carson Again...............

“Were you jealous of that cowboy?” I think he should be. The cowboy is better. I don’t give a damn about these characters. And I genuinely hate that the strumming is Carson’s Thing Now. At the very least we should get some Carson and Bill doing a duet together which would be cool.

It just felt like it was shilling Paul and had nothing to do with the characters.

--

Scene 12: Mmm Money

This is arguably the most interesting scene in the episode. Lucas nodded at Nathan. Nathan went to Lucas for money. Lucas didn’t need to get the scoop to find out why Nathan needed it to loan it to him. Elizabeth is officially the least interesting part of the love triangle.

They treat her like she’s such a prize to be won, but I’m starting to worry that she’s become the new Lorigail on the show.

Anyway this scene had some gay vibes and I liked them.

--

Scene 13: Rosemary and Elizabeth Catch Up

YES. GOOD SCENE. It starts off fun and it gets serious, and the transition feels really natural. “Did he have reason to be [jealous]?” I’m genuinely glad this is in the episode. It needed to be. I hope Rosemary continues to ask the hard questions.

Elizabeth needs to face either dating one of them, or dating neither of them so that everybody can get on with their lives. If you’re not that enthusiastic about either of them I’d say...maybe don’t date either of them idk.

--

Scene 14: Nathan and Bill Talk

"If he sees you with me, then...” The problem with this scene is uh...twofold, let’s say.

Issue 1: ThEN HE WILL WHAT, NATHAN? WHAT HAS HE EVER DONE BEFORE THAT WAS SO BAD if he’s not a hard criminal? Maybe an example would be useful here...?

Issue 2: The old Bill Avery would have heard “if he SEES YOU with ME” and mentally been like, “all right so it’s only bad if he SEES ME” and spied on Nathan.

Nathan wanting Bill to stay behind in case Dylan doubles back isn’t a terrible idea, but it almost comes across more like...the writers just want Nathan alone.

--

Scene 15: Oil

I like the discussion and that Hickam gets to do something. I feel like Henry is low-key advising against shooting the well, and that Lucas and Hickam will end up doing it and causing an issue. It’s just setting up for the future and it’s nice to see those kinds of scenes in the series again!

--

Scene 16: Jesse and Lee

I’d like this scene more if I felt it gave us ANY insight into the problem Jesse and Clara are having. It mostly comes across like Jesse gets home and does nothing at all until bedtime and Clara is lonely. Could have been a better scene. It’s mostly just repetitive right now.

--

Scene 17: Nathan Cancels the Date

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.” Nathan’s like uhhhhh. This actually works really well to do what it’s supposed to do. By that I mean, he seems “off” so Elizabeth realizes he’s a bit stressed and leaving town = mountie business = dangerous.

I kind of wish Rosemary and Elizabeth would talk more about this, but maybe that’s coming in an episode soon...?

--

Scene 18: The Barbershop

Just a cute nice scene that shows a good friendship between Fiona, Clara, and Faith. I like this stuff. Keep it coming, Hallmark!

--

(Skipping Scene 19 because it’s just Nathan riding around...)

--

Scene 20: Lee and Rosemary Scheme

I really enjoyed this little bit where they decide to buy something for Clara and Jesse and we don’t get to see what it is. Super wholesome and very fun!

--

Scene 21: Nathan gets Ambushed

This scene was absolutely wild. Probably one of the best scenes like this that they’ve ever done. Dylan taking Nathan’s hat, “Take care of my little girl” after he takes the money and Nathan’s gun. It was super good.

Also, not too fake that Nathan was on the ground that long. If you got roped off of your horse you’d have the wind knocked out of you super hard lmao.

--

Scene 22: Bill & The Girls

Clara and Fiona are so cute. Bill playing the “Dad” figure to them both is really nice and it’s good for him. “I’m a lawman. I get to sneak.” What a Bill response. 

--

(Skipping Scene 23 since it’s just Nathan finding his horse.)

--

Scene 24: Lucas visits with Elizabeth

Lucas and Elizabeth are flirting via a nursery rhyme. I...don’t like that LOL. But Lucas’s “Helen Bouchard taught me to read and after that I was on my own.” She really sounds unloving. This was a pretty decent scene, though.

Also, Grand Isle Louisiana had a major hurricane in 1909 and 1915.

They also seem to have been hit by more mild hurricanes in 1916 and 1917, but the 1915 one was a Cat4, so...the most notable.

--

Scene 25: Rosemary and Lee in the Dress Shop

This tries to solve the issue of Clara and Jesse’s marital problems, but it doesn’t actually do that. “Let Jesse read when he gets home.” “I’ll talk to Jesse.” Meh.

--

Scene 26: Barbershop

“Why do this when you’re so good with women’s hair?” I fully expected Fiona to say, “That’s where all the hot gossip is, of course.” I do like  her gumption, though!

--

Scene 27: Nathan Finds Dylan

“I had to let you ambush me, so I had grounds to put you away.” COLD BUT EFFECTIVE. I appreciate this.

Imagine getting to be this smug. I wish it were me.

Anyway, long-term thoughts on this are mostly that...there is just no reasonable way Dylan’s story is over yet. It’s too juicy of a storyline to let go this easily. Allie is going to find out what Nathan did and she’s going to struggle to come to terms with it, especially after her grandfather really did try to turn his life around. Why couldn’t it be the same for her father? Why couldn’t she get lucky like that?

I hope it feels satisfying, whatever they choose to do. Otherwise this was just wrapped up too neatly/too quickly.

--

Scene 28: Nathan Returns

Very good scene. Nathan’s in a good mood and he does my favorite trope of all time when one person in the relationship has a child: “Why don’t we all go?” You already all know each other, so why not? It’s wholesome and good, and it shows he doesn’t care how he gets to spend time with Elizabeth, as long as he does.

Also, it takes a lot of the pressure off of her for the duration of the date and at its conclusion. This was a cute and good scene, one of the better they’ve had, I think.

--

Scene 29: Jesse and Lee Talk

This was a nice attempt at a talk, but it really comes off like Jesse has stopped loving Clara for no reason. That his romantic interest in her is what is causing the failure in their relationship.

The problem is: WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS CAUSING IT. NOBODY EVER SAID. 

I agree that love isn’t “just” a feeling or “just” an emotion. It’s ALSO a choice. Marriage is a commitment you choose to continue every day. That is all good.

“Choose love. Then you feel it.” is probably some of the worst dialogue they’ve put in the show, though. Yuck. It left a bad taste in my mouth. It feels like it’s shaming people who legitimately fall out of love or who are in bad relationships. “If only you chose to work harder.”

I don’t think that was their intention at all, but it really soured the scene. I would have MUCH rather have had Lee get Jesse to talk about what’s wrong and then offer him pointers on how he could do better. Maybe he’s stressed out and losing himself in books, or he wishes Clara would sit and read with him because that’s something he always wanted. Or maybe Clara would be down for reading time if he read to her while she did her sewing.

There’s so much they could have done here to really send this home, but it didn’t work very well. At the very least Lee could have said, instead of ‘choose love’: CHOOSE COMMUNICATION. Make sure she knows you still feel that way about her.

The biggest thing is like, Lee could also be very encouraging in saying like, the honeymoon phase doesn’t last forever but just because things settle down doesn’t mean the love is less.

THERE IS SO MUCH GOOD STUFF THEY COULD HAVE WRITTEN FOR THIS but they chose “Choose love. Then you feel it.” WTF. That’s awful advice.

--

Scene 30: Jesse and Clara

Him bringing her flowers was a nice touch, and her getting him the book was also nice. The tandem bike was SO unexpected to me and I loved it. It’s just goofy enough that it works. The best part is that they know it’s not going to fix anything, but it’s still a fun and nice thing to do, and that’s wonderful for Rosemary and Lee. They both like to make the people they care about happy.

--

Scene 31: Mama Bouchard

MILF ALERT.

Elizabeth is just so shook at all of this she doesn’t say a damn thing for so long it made my palms feel sweaty.

“Someone ought to take an interest in your writing, don’t you think?” I rewatched the episode to understand the tone, and it’s a little hoity-toity/uppity, but she actually doesn’t sound condescending. It’s good for an editor to meet the author, after all, and meet to talk about their writing/book. This has always been custom, even in the early 1900s. Authors didn’t usually get their work published by an editor they’d never met (though of course, you will find some exceptions). 

From the little we saw, Helen seems fine. The preview for the next episode tells us she’s UH, AN EDITOR DOING HER JOB, so I’m not looking forward to the editor being the bad guy, but I guess I’ll have to deal with that when it arrives. (To be clear, Elizabeth has never proved to the audience that she’s a Good Writer, let alone a Great Writer. She’s also not experienced which means her work probably NEEDS SOME WORK.)

Anyway, Elizabeth is immediately rude as HELL. Nobody can make an excuse for this. Helen isn’t THAT big of a deal. There are other publishers. Your father is filthy rich. If she changes her mind about your book you can pub to someone via your father if you have to. Like...Helen wouldn’t have taken you on if she didn’t see any potential in you. 

Even if it was a big deal, Elizabeth has NEVER been a flake. EVER. 

This is a classic case of a writer forcing the character to go out of character in order to bend to what the plot dictates. 

If I were Nathan, I’d drop Elizabeth like a brick.

How to fix this scene? I’ll honestly have to think about that for a while. This was the first hint of truly bad writing this season. The bit with Lee and “choose love” was careless writing, but this scene with Nathan is just Bad.

The thing is, I KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING. I know they put this in there so that it looks like she’ll choose Lucas because she never even goes out with Nathan, and then BOOM. I know it’s meant to be this big thing about how she’s scared to feel anything for Nathan because Lucas is the safer option and also a good man (so why would she fall for the more frightening option?).

But this was not the right way to do this type of scene. I hope to God in the next episode someone says something about it. Allie could tell her it was rude and it hurt Nathan’s feelings/you shouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t want to. It’d be fully in character for her. Rosemary could also say something similar. If they do, I might be able to forgive this...but if it’s not called attention to by the other characters, then it’s a massive failure as a scene to me.

--

Did I miss anything? Do you want my thoughts on something in particular? Shoot me a message HERE and I’ll do my best to answer! 

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter One: Evaluation

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Shane Benton gets a new patient, veteran “Sy” Syverson. He’s one of the most complex cases she’s had, in more ways than one. She thinks he’s already starting to like her and what’s worse...she feels the same.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None, really, mentions of war and trauma and some hate on the Chicago Cubs, but like…it’s not MEAN! (I’m a Missouri girl, and for the purposes of this fic, Sy is a Missouri boy, and we will bleed for our sports teams. Lol!)

A/N: Inspired by this post right here, and hopefully turning into some splendid fluffy and smutty stuff for my lovely Cavillry babes all around including the two that essentially forced me into this. Lol! (I’m thinking I’ll have at least three or four more chapters.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3.

Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive

Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it! 

Shane was working on her morning's notes as she scarfed down her lunch. So many hand's-on patients made for a busy so called "lunch hour." Time which their boss was always reminded them was only half for their personal use, and could be taken away if census demanded. She was pretty sure it wasn't legal to make such threats, but thankfully, the secretaries usually had the therapists backs.

As she typed, she got a notification in her messenger app.

Just a head's up, your 1:30 is such a major babe I could barely look at him while I checked him in, so good luck with that.

Heather, one of her best friends in the office, had warned her, as she always did when there was a potential problem with a patient.

Oh, and his KOOS score is 27.5! Yikes! Shit, she'd seen arthritic grandparents with better scores on that test, which essentially rated your ability with the affected knee. Ideal was 100. She pulled up his chart review to see what she was getting herself into with this guy.

Tricare insurance, so, a vet. And only a year older than she was, so, recent discharge, or even active duty. She pulled up his order…shit. Traumatic tear of the anterior cruciate ligament. With damage to the medial collateral ligament as well. And a patellar dislocation. Repairs had been done, but this guy was in bad shape. He was going to be coming a while.

She replied to Heather.

Damn, that's bad. I'm looking at his order, and I'm already thinking I'm gonna want to try to keep him on my schedule if we can. And three times a week. If not with me, Jordan, if he's got openings. Can you start working on that when you have time?

Sure thing…I think you'll be glad you kept him on your caseload once you get a look at his face…and like all of him. Even on crutches, he's tall as shit!

Heather, come on. I'm a professional. I have a doctorate ffs. Lol

You also have a uterus, to the best of my knowledge, and it's about to explode. Promise.

Haha, okay. I'll be out for Prince Charming in about ten. Lemme pop a breath mint and run a brush through my hair.

Good call.

Shane did just that, but still pulled her dark hair back into her customary functional high ponytail, made sure there was no stray food on her shirt, and headed out of her treatment room for her patient.

As she walked down the hall to the waiting area to get him, she noticed a slumped and bearded figure leaning forward on a set of crutches, a KC Chiefs baseball cap slipping up off of his forehead revealing short cropped dark hair. She smiled at his repping one of her home teams, and stepped up to him, greeting him warmly, but formally.

"Mr. Syverson?"

"Ma'am." he said, as he adjusted his cap and stood immediately at attention, still relying on the crutches, but making himself as tall as possible. He really was a soldier. Despite her proximity to Fort Leonard Wood here in St. Robert, Missouri, she didn't see many military men.

"Hi, My name is Shane. I'm a physical therapist. I'm going to be working with you today."

"Oh, okay. They told me my therapists name was Shane, I figured…"

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Don't worry, I act like one of the guys. You'll hardly notice."

"I doubt that." he muttered, but she ignored it. She didn't know which would be worse. Him being a macho chauvinist who couldn't deal with a female therapist, or having a crush on her and making things weird. She'd had both. And it never ended well for her.

"Well, let's go have a chat in the treatment room."

They walked toward the room she'd just left, and when they arrived, she asked him to set on her plinth mat.

"Could you please verify your date of birth for me? Gotta make sure I got the right patient in here."

"May the 5th, 1983."

"Thanks, and the last four of your social?"

He told her, quietly, and against her will, a shiver ran up her spine at the softness the bear of a man exhibited in his voice when trying to maintain privacy. But she kept her composure.

"Excellent." she began typing her eval note, and asking him questions. He began telling the harrowing story of the mission, the mission that effectively ended his career in the military as he knew it. At lest, what he could tell her. Obviously some of it was classified, but certain details she would need to know in order to know how he it and how to treat him. She could tell he was trying to hold it together. Reliving the trauma was probably triggering to an extent. Her heart went out for the broad-chested, blue-eyed man.

"God, that's incredible. The fact that you're alive is amazing, Mr. Syverson."

"I go by Sy, ma'am. And as aware as I am of that, it's tough to feel good about it when some friends in my squad weren't so lucky." he examined the pattern on the tile floor as he rubbed the heel of his hand against the wide thigh of his injured leg. A nervous habit, she presumed. She had similar quirks.

"That must be difficult for you." she knew she was getting off-track from what she needed for her SOAP note, but after all, he was going to be on her caseload exclusively for the foreseeable future. She'd have time to flesh out the goals and basically finish the eval next visit.

"Yeah, but I know there's a lotta guys' got it worse'n me, ma'am."  

"We think that should make it better, but it never does. And if I'm calling you 'Sy,' you have to cut the ma'am business. It's Shane, even to my patients." she smiled.

"Sorry, m--sorry. Habits die hard."

"Just like John McClean." she chuckled, not expecting him to get her ridiculous movie humor. But he laughed.

"Did you just make a Die Hard reference?" he smiled, and the sunshine of it paired with the stunning blue of his eyes nearly sent her flying into the wall. Thankfully, she had something to occupy her gaze in the form of her laptop, where she tried to document on him.

"Did you just get one of my movie references? Because nobody around here appreciates that I'm a total movie nerd. I'm wasted on these people."

"Ya know, maybe you're right about feeling like I'm getting PT from a guy." he chuckled.

"I told ya!" she laughed, but tried not to let her heart sink too far.

The evaluation continued with her doing strength and range of motion measurements on his knee. "Okay, push against my hand…now resist when I push…now bring your foot back against my hand…and resist when I pull." she did this with both sides to compare relative strength. "Great job. Okay, I'm going to see how much range you have in your knee. Lay back on the table for me, please." she thought she saw a flirty glint in his eye, but again, she ignored it. She had a job to do. And it was to hold this goniometer up to his knee and see how many degrees of flexion and extension this man had in the joint while trying not to think any salacious thoughts about the thigh connected to it.

"Okay, now, listen, Sy, I know it goes against your instinct, but I'm looking for pain-free range of motion, here, so don't be a hero. Don't move it farther than you can without hurting it. And let me know if it starts to hurt when I move it."

"Yes, ma'am." he winked.

"I'll let that one slide, I guess." she giggled. She concentrated on the numbers she was getting from the big protractor, and typing them into her eval, and not the man lying before her.

"Okay, I'm gonna get the other knee now to compare for goals."

He nodded.

"Were you pretty active before this happened?" she was more or less making small talk, as she could tell by the condition of the rest of his body that he was incredibly fit.

"Yes, m--yes, I was. We had a gym on base, nothin' like what y'all have here, just some machines and a few free weights."

"No bikes or treadmills or anything?" She herself liked the elliptical, but knew it was a considered more of a girl's machine in the gym world.

"Nah, with electric being spotty where we were stationed, we sorta had to…get creative, I guess you could say, for cardio." she let it slide, apparently there was an inside joke to which she wasn't privy.

"Right, understandable. Well, here, we don't have to get that creative. I'm gonna put you on some equipment gradually, and just warm up the knee, then get to work on joint mobilization and myofascial release. But at this point in Dr. Potter's protocol, he only wants gentle stretching and weight bearing as tolerated. We can start a bit of strengthening after next week."

"So, you think I'll be back to running anytime soon?"

"We can make that a goal, Sy, because I can absolutely get you there. But you're going to have to take it slow. You've got not one, but three major injuries we have to contend with, and there is major trauma in there. But it will heal. With time and effort. And like I said, don't be a hero. The number one rule of therapy is 'if it hurts, don't do it.'"

"I'll hold you to that, m--Shane."

"You're a quick study, Sy. I think you'll be alright. Looks like Heather's put some appointments in for you already. If any of them don't work, call us, and we'll try to get them swapped. I'd like to keep you on my schedule as much as possible, but if there's a conflict in your schedule, any of our therapists will be terrific. And I'll make sure they're looking at your chart and protocol thoroughly before seeing you."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Okay, I'm gonna print out your schedule for you, and a few exercise handouts I'd like you to work on, especially on days you don't come here. And I'll know if you don't do them, because you won't have improved…so, you better do them."

"Yes, ma'am." she half expected a salute. She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, maybe I'll give you three strikes on the ma'am thing."

"Baseball fan, too?"

"Not that three strikes is so obscure that I'd have to be to know it, but, yes! Major St. Louis Cardinals fan."

"I knew I was gonna like you from the start. Although, being brought up 'round Kansas City m'self, I'm more of a Royals fan."

"Hey, only time I don't root for KC is when they're playing my Redbirds. And even if my team loses to them, it hurts less than if they lose to, say…the Cubs." they shared a scowl of disdain for the Chicago team. "Although, I was happy for them and their fans when they won the series back in 16."

"Yeah, I guess we could afford to let them win one in a hundred years…I'm hoping their next one comes long after I'm in the ground." he chuckled.

"Can't have them getting a big head, can we?"

"Nope! Sure can't!" they both laughed at their mutual interest in dissing rival sports teams.

"Okay, I'll be right back with those handouts." she ran to the office all in one machine to grab the papers she'd printed for him, making sure they were all his and not another patient's. She put them in one of their folders and headed back to her room where he sat on the mat, waiting for her with a smile under his rather impressive beard.

"Before I let you out of here, what questions can I answer for you about what we did today?"

"Oh, uh, nothing comes to mind. You explained everything really well. Did you look at my schedule? Am I with you all the time?"

"Hmm, let's see here, looks like the next two, yes, but I'm off next week, so Heather put you with Jordan, which is what I asked her to do. You two will work great together and he's got a great instinct for injuries like this. And I'll talk to him before I leave. He's one of the best PTAs I've ever worked with, I promise."

"I guess, if you have to take a vacation. I'll see you next time though."

"I'm looking forward to it. That's when the real work will begin, Sy. And our number is on in this paperwork if you have questions, and I've put my card in here, too." they shook hands, and he grabbed the folder from her.

She saw him out of the room and into the lobby. She'd finished with him a bit early, but her next one was already waiting. She needed a break. To collect herself. To breathe.

"Jason! Hey! Go on and get on the recumbent bike, level two. Ride until I get there. We'll get a lot done today if you're already warmed up. I've got a note to finish. And then I'll be in. I should be 15 or less."

While the 19 year old with a torn meniscus hopped to her instructions, she went back to her computer to attempt to finish Sy's eval and pretend that she didn't already have a serious and intense crush on him. This was going to be a long twelve weeks…at least.

Up Next: Chapter Two-Therapeutic Procedure

[ejzah]

A/N: So, here’s part 17. This one is pretty Densi focused.

***

The Agent and the Lawyer, Part 17

“Deeks, there is nothing in the law that states we have to allow a detainee a phone call,” Sam told Deeks, his arms crossed as they sat across from each other.

What had started out as a simple discussion about twenty minutes before, had evolved into a tense disagreement. He’d thought Sam was finally beginning to respect his opinion at least a little bit, but the last case had proven him wrong.

Sam and Callen had arrested a man, David Williams, after Eric and Nell found evidence linking hm with a domestic terrorism plot. Deeks was mildly horrified when they brought him into the boat shed, bleeding from a gunshot wound to the upper arm.

Although Williams eventually confessed to the location of the terrorist ring, it still didn’t sit well with Deeks.

“I realize that, Sam, but it’s the principle. You denied him a call, you didn’t get him medical help, and threatened to stick him in a jail cell with a convicted killer,” Deeks countered. “I’m supposed to be a legal liaison. What the hell am I doing here if I just stand by and say nothing?”

“Deeks, you’re new here. Sometimes you have to slant the law a little bit to get the right results. Williams wasn’t in danger of bleeding out and I was never going to act on my threats. He just needed to believe I would.”

Deeks pressed his lips together, beyond frustrated. He’d held back for the past several weeks as he watched and learned how the team operated. Technically, a lot of what they did skirted the law. It wasn’t exactly illegal, but it certainly wasn’t best practice and in the right situation a lawyer could make a case against them in his opinion.

“What if he presses charges?” Deeks asked.

“I think he has more serious things to worry about,” Callen pointed out lightly. “Like denying that he was part of a group that planned to blow up a shopping mall.”

Sam stood and patted him on the shoulder, effectively ending the conversation. He probably didn’t mean to be condescending, but it made Deeks feel like a little kid.

“Deeks, once you’re here for a while, you’ll realize that many times the end result justify the means,” he explained. Deeks glanced over at Kensi, but she remained silent.

After they left the room, Kensi sat down next to him, nudging him with her shoulder.

“You going to be ok?” she asked quietly. He sighed and rubbed at his hair, trying to find a way to explain the mounting frustration he felt.

“Sometimes it just feels like I’ve replaced one failed system for another,” he said.

“Don’t let Sam hear you say that,” she joked. When he didn’t laugh, she gently rubbed his back. “Is there anything I can do, babe?” That did make him smile a little.

“I don’t think so. I guess I just have to figure out what my purpose in being here is. And what maniacal plans Hetty has for me.”

“Mm, I don’t think Hetty has anything too evil planned for you. She likes you, you know.”

“Even when she calls me cheeky?”

“Especially then,” Kensi said emphatically. “I think you have her completely charmed.” Her hand drifted a little lower on his back, effectively pushing his concerns to the back of his mind.

“And do I have anyone else charmed?” he teased. Kensi blushed and glanced away.

“You’re getting there.”

“You realize you called me, ‘babe’ a minute ago, right?”

“No, I didn’t,” she said, making the weird cackling sound that he’d come to associate with embarrassment.

“Yes, you did. Admit it, you have a pet name for me.”

“You are utterly ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

“We have work to do,” she countered, grabbing a random stack of files which they’d completed the day before. He grabbed them, setting to the side, and linked their fingers. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching, it didn’t protest or pull away.

“Say it. Say you love it,” he persisted. She was adorable when she got flustered.

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“That’s still not a no.”

“You know, I was going to invite you over for dinner tonight, but I’ve changed my mind,” she said, retrieving her hand and crossing her arms.

“Wait, you were going to let me into casa de Kensi?” he asked. “I’ve been dying to know if you’re as messy there as you are here and at my place.”

“First of all, I don’t even know what that accent was supposed to be. Secondly, you’re already on thin ice, if you’re not careful you might lose more privileges,” she warned.

Turning on his best pleading expression, which he found worked remarkably well on his tough as nails girlfriend, he looked directly into her eyes.

“Please reconsider. I promise to be on my best behavior. I won’t even mention any dirty dishes or unfolded piles of clothes I happen to see.”

Kensi pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. He saw her start to waver and leaned a little closer, staring more intensely into her eyes. After a minute she sighed.

“Fine.” She held up a finger. “But since you find my lifestyle so amusing, you can wash all my laundry and dishes. And you can’t have your cleaning lady do it for you.”

“Sure,” he said without hesitation.

“For a month,” she added.

“Doable. You know, cleaning isn’t nearly as bad as you think it is.” Evading her elbow, he added, “Are there any other, ahem, tasks you want me to take care of? Maybe I can bake you some muffins?” He lowered his voice suggestively.

He smirked up at her as she looked him up and down, apparently considering his offer. After a minute she leaned closer, her expression playful. God, he loved it when she dropped the tough Special Agent persona.

“I would say yes, but I don’t think your ready to handle my muffins,” she answered, looking ridiculously pleased with herself. “Or my biscuits.”

“I would say ‘touche’, but aren’t biscuits and muffins basically the same thing?” he said, raising a finger. “And just so you know, I can totally handle any and all of your baked goods.”

“You just don’t want to admit that I outwitted you, Mr. Word Smith.”

“Let’s just call it a temporary impasse.”

“I call it you doing all my housework while watch you do it and eat takeout,” she countered.

“Or I could eat y-“

“Ahem!” They both turned, having forgotten that anyone could walk in on their private conversation, and found Nell standing in the doorway with raised eyebrows. She pressed her lips together, looking caught between amusement and vague horror.

Deeks chuckled, ruffling the back of his hair while Kensi quickly pushed away from him.

“Um, how long have you been standing there?” he asked awkwardly.

“Pretty long,” she answered.

“Nell, it’s not what it sounded like,” Kensi rushed to explain. “We were just-“

“Yes, I heard.”

“Deeks was joking. You know how he is. We were actually talking about grabbing dinner after work. You know, like completely platonic coworkers do.” God, she was making it so much worse. Trying not laugh, Deeks added,

“You should come with. I know some great restaurants.” Nell nodded, not looking like she believed them at all.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Did you have something for us, Nell?” Kensi asked in a higher voice than normal.

“Yes, I do. Hetty wants everyone up in Ops. Eric already called Sam and Callen,” she said. Deeks shot Kensi an apologetic look as they followed after Nell.

“So, uh, do you have any nicknames, Nell,” he asked, to fill the awkward silence.

“Not really.”

“Well, we should give you one. And possibly a bell.”

“I don’t know...”

“How about Nellvarine?” he suggested.

“Um, I kind of just like Nell,” she said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”

“Before you ask,” Kensi added as the reached Ops and the doors slid open. “Yes, he’s like this all the time.” Before she walked in, Kensi spun to face him and hissed, “You are so dead.”

***

A/N: It’s a bit of shorter and fluffier chapter this week.

[antoine-roquentin]

Instead of settling the case, at no cost, in exchange for deleting the tweet and posting a notice promising not to interfere with union organizing, Domenech decided to procure the services of a crank legal organization called the New Civil Liberties Alliance (NCLA), led by a Mr. Hamburger. The NCLA, which appears to have no labor lawyers on staff, went on to embarrass itself in the NLRB proceeding, at one point moving to dismiss the case based on jurisdictional requirements in the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, only to be informed by the agency that NLRB proceedings have never been governed by those rules.

The only defense the NCLA had that wasn’t laughable on its face was that Domenech was joking. The problem with this defense is that it has been repeatedly rejected by the NLRB and even the circuit courts (“real courts” according to Domenech). “I was just joking” is not an uncommon thing people say in response to unfair labor practice charges based on coercive statements. This is not usually tolerated as a defense because, as the Eight Circuit (326 F.2d 910) wrote quite elegantly in 1964, “executives who threaten in jest run the risk that those subject to their power might take them in earnest and conclude the remarks to be coercive.”

Even as far back at 1977, NLRB joke cases (231 NLRB No. 40) were repeating boilerplate like “it is well established that the coercive and unlawful effect of a statement is not blunted merely because interrogations of, warnings to, or disparaging statements about union adherents are accompanied by laughter or made in an offhand humorous way.” In that case, the manager had asked some workers why they were wearing union buttons, and when they replied “because everyone else is,” the manager said “I’ll be damned if y’all can’t fuck up a wet dream,” which caused the workers to laugh. Following precedent, the NLRB ruled that the manager’s statement violated the NLRA.

The NLRB case law is littered with these cases and there is nothing special about Domenech’s case. He threatened to retaliate against workers who engaged in protected activity and the fact that he did so in an “offhand humorous way” is no defense, according to well-settled law.

Unhappy with his loss, Domenech is now attempting to play the media game, writing in the Wall Street Journal that he is the victim of some extreme government overreach fueled by political enemies. He even got his friend Dan McLaughlin (the Baseball Crank) to write up a similarly histrionic piece at the National Review. The purpose of these articles is not to make legal arguments — neither of them do even though the Crank claims to be a lawyer — but instead to try to get the word out to conservative appointees either in the NRLB or in the circuit courts that this is a case they should get “creative” about, if you know what I mean.

Although this strategy has failed so far (the Trump-appointed NLRB General Counsel did not spike the case, even though he could have), this strategy could ultimately work. Judges are fundamentally politicians, not people who interpret and apply laws and precedents in a neutral fashion. So if you can get enough of them primed to understand what their side wants to happen, they can often make that happen.

But even with that said, it’s important to underline how completely without merit this whole crybaby performance is. The Federalist was not targeted for political reasons. Dave Portnoy, of Barstool Sports fame, was hit with an identical joke-threat case last year over a tweet he sent, a case that was instigated by at least one of the same individuals who instigated the Federalist case (I filed charges in both). But Portnoy apparently hired an actual labor lawyer who explained that his case was a sure loser, causing Portnoy to settle the case by deleting the tweet and posting a notice that he would not interfere with union activities.

Domenech could have done what Portnoy did and could still do what Portnoy did right now. He is the one who is choosing to waste time and money litigating a case where he has clearly broken the law on some kind of prayer that a conservative judge will ignore a half-century of settled law in order to let him skate.

cool fact i learned today from mr bruenig: even if nobody at a company is trying to unionize, you can go on to the NLRB’s website and file your own complaint against their anti-union behaviour. it takes two minutes to fill out the form, and if you do it, then nobody at their workplace will get penalized for having their name on a complaint.

[nomoregoldfish]

Imagine catching Amado building secret airport in the jungle; Enemies to friends /w benefits (1/2)

Did someone just like all my JMY posts? YOU’RE NOT ALONE IN THIS DEEP SH*T. Hope you enjoy this, too ;)

You're a geologist working on the excavation of Yaxchilán, a remote Mayan site in Chiapas. Your job is to help fellow archaeologists to draw a map of the entire ancient city including ruins as many as possible, which largely remain uncovered and reclaimed by the jungle after being abandoned for centuries.

One day during the exploration along the Usumacinta River, you and your team run into a large construction site that isn't on the map. You suspect it might be illegal deforestation and you're going to report it. But your colleagues warn this kind of hidden site is probably owned by people way above your pay grade.

You find the narrow rectangle-shaped site a bit unusual. It almost looks like clearing a road at the heart of the forest.

You decide to go find out the truth yourself, that's when you meet a long-hair man dressed in black. In the FUCKING RAIN FOREST, humid and above 90 degrees at 10AM. WTF is wrong with this dude wearing the hottest aviation sunglasses you've ever seen?

"How can I help you, Ms... Geologist?" The fucker with a thick northern accent takes a glimpse of your INAH badge, "What brings you here?" You retort with the same question, accusing him of deforestation in the protected area. "There might be some Mayan ruins around? Sorry, I don't see any." The mocking tune of his is so irritating you want to punch him in the face... 

Wait, he takes off the shades. How could that handsome face belong to such a douchebag? Goddamnit. The guy claims the land was legally bought but won't show you any document unless you have a warrant. You don't see he and his men carry any firearms but something in his eyes tells you there's danger. He doesn't need to reflex his muscle to show toughness. 

You swallow any further question and leave. You need to figure out another approach.

You drive back to your camp, making phone calls to whoever might have the insight. Still not a single clue. No one in DF gives a fuck about what's going on in the middle of of vast jungles in Chiapas, the remote state sharing hundreds of miles of border with Guatemala, where cartels have been smuggling in all kinds of profitable produce from human to cocaine. 

You're on your own. You have to find out why someone's claiming a large area of land in your territory which could jeopardize your research. 

Sneaking in alone at night is probably not the best strategy but whatever. Say you're a bit too strong-headed. You manage to get into an office-like room, a blueprint hanging on the whiteboard. Turns out the road you saw earlier is actually a runway, plus a few giant warehouses near the end of the runway for the planes. Someone is building a secret airport.

You're stunned. And next moment, caught by the man himself.

This time he has you at gunpoint, with your hands clenched behind your back, "Nice to meet you again, Ms. Geologist, or should I call you Ms. Trespasser? By the way, I'm Amado, piloto. Any last word?"

His casual smile makes the death threat less intimidating. Maybe you can reason with Amado.

You try not to poke around the natural of his shady business. Just lay out the importance of the protected area for anthropology and archaeology studies, even for biodiversity conservation. Think about the howler monkeys and other indigenous species. Building an airport in the jungle already scare many animals away, let alone the huge air and sonic pollution once it's up and running. And you haven't finished the scan of the whole area. There could be multiple hidden ruins nearby. 

You keep talking and talking, Amado never breaks the eye contact with you. And you stare back, looking into his dark eyes. It's mesmerizing. 

"I love it when you talk about your shit." He moves close to you, closer than necessary that you can feel his body warmth through those dark clothes. Everything is too warm and damp in the tiny temporary room, like your t-shirt soaked with sweat that sticks to your skin and probably shows your tits, and his long neck and a strand of hair on his forehead. He smells exotic, like gunpowder and mahogany tree, both of which you deal with on a daily basis in the jungle.

You're not afraid of Amado as you should've been. Instead, you're fucking turned on. In a split second his forearms touch yours when he unties you, you kind of want it to last longer. That sleeves-rolled-up, three-buttons-open black shirt is not helping at all.

"You haven't asked what I do. Go on, Ms. Geologist, tell me more about what I could possibly do in your precious jungle." He does it on purpose, letting the hot breath brush over your ear. He's now standing behind you, big hands lingering on your waist when he finds out you lean to his touch. 

It's like a slow dance, you move naturally along his body as you mumble the pivotal location the secret airport is built at. Which is the nearest to Guatemala, convenient for water transportation just using the border river, and more importantly holds the closest route from/to Colombia, a perfect mid-stop for business between Colombia and northern Mexico. 

"So you've guessed what I do for living." Amado gives you a smirk. And you joke he's just a piloto. He laughs, a big one, praising you're the smartest woman he's ever met. Then he asks whether you'd continue the fight when you already know it's a done deal and who you're up against.

You look straight into Amado's eyes, telling him that he could've pulled the trigger the moment he caught you, but he didn't.

Your conversation is disrupted by one of his guys passing a call from el patrón patrón. Amado sighs, letting you sneak out.

The bastard fucking calls your camp later that night, claiming he's your boyfriend. You have to avoid all your colleagues to speak to him. 

You're furious and ask how the fuck he gets the number.

"You think drug traffickers are banditote therefore they wouldn't catch the signal from another satellite phone in nearby areas and tap the calls, Ms. Geologist? I was actually flattered when you asked around about me the other day." You can imagine Amado's dangerously charming smile at the other end of the phone.

WTF. You CURSE, a lot. 

"It's very hot when you curse, but even drug trafficker won't waste money on dirty talks over satellite phone. I just want to make sure of your safe return. Good night."

You'd never admit you masturbate to a drug trafficker that night. Not in a million years.

[wordsturnintostories]

show me your rosettes, baby (g)

summary: The world tour is over and the Bangtan Boys finally get their well-deserved break. When Namjoon suddenly can’t find Jimin anywhere, things take an unexpected and pretty unbelievable turn. “Kim Namjoon!” “Hyung. How common is it for people to turn into cats?” word count: 11.7k note: sorry for not updating this baby in sooo long. i struggled with this chapter for three months and would have never gotten to this final version without @justanemptydream’s help. you saved me. thank you, love. anyway, last time i thought the chapter was long but now we’ve got an 11.7k monstrosity. let me know if you enjoyed reading it. toodles  ✨

masterlist | moodboard masterlist

[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ]

The room is stunningly quiet apart from Jimin’s sleepy hiccups, the soft buzzing of the fish tank and the beeps that signal that the call is not yet connected. Unsure about what to expect, Sihyuk and Namjoon hold eye contact. Then, suddenly, a woman’s voice appears on the other side of the phone.

“Welcome, Bang Sihyuk, Kim Namjoon. I am your automated call agent today. We apologize for not being personally available to take your call at the moment. To continue, please choose an option from the menu. Press 1 to access all gathered data about Park Jimin, press 3 to-“

They both look at each other.

“What the hell.”

A bird caws outside the window. The fish in the tank swim in wobbly circles. Jimin sniffles and fails to lick his side. The silence - okay, it’s more of a shock-state, but the silence seems electric, like any word will change the current and any action will push them to a point of no return.

Namjoon starts a short body-mind check, feels his brain reboot. There are not many updates; he’s still sitting in the same chair in Bang Sihyuk’s office, Jimin is still wriggling around on his lap and they are still on the phone with the weird robot lady whose number they got from a magic business card. But his heart is pounding like it wasn’t before, and his eyes and mouth hang open wide. Actual shivers flow over his skin, matching the light reflexes from the tank, and Namjoon has a weird premonition that he will break something today. The silence is almost damp with shock, and probably only rings in his ears, like he’s a hero in an action movie who’s lost his sense of hearing after the explosion of the century.

Now, Namjoon knows a lot of things other people don’t know. He knows how to make music, great music according to ARMY and the charts, and he knows how to lead a group (although most of the time, he feels like he’s not actually doing anything, thanks to his hyungs). He knows how to survive a 40-event concert tour and he knows how to dislocate a shoulder without trying to. It’s the things Namjoon doesn’t know that scare him.

He doesn’t know how anyone could have possibly found out about Jimin’s condition - he’s been extra careful the past days, restraining himself from posting cat photos on their twitter and only letting Jimin out into their private backyard to avoid prying eyes. The only people he’s told about Jimin are Min Yoongi and Bang Sihyuk. Not even the other band members know about the leopard cub roaming their apartment and gnawing on their cushions. And yet, some company or organization has found out. 

Namjoon doesn’t know what to think - on the one hand, it could be very good. It could mean that the other company has no intention of blackmailing them. It could mean that there is interest in the topic but no pressure. On the other hand, this could be bad, very bad. To know that someone else is out there, with unclear motivations (because seriously, they could still blackmail BigHit for this), with an unknown amount of information - it could mean anything. Namjoon knows as well as any other person working for BigHit how fragile success is - no matter the foundation of work underneath. BigHit and BTS have worked years - long years that cost them their all - to rise up as far as they have today and the whole business is based completely on popularity, on opinions. Opinions can change quickly, especially in the music industry. One wrong move and your career is over. Namjoon knows all this. What he doesn’t know is whether Jimin will shift back, become human again (the doubt still lingers despite what Jackson says), whether BTS will be able to go on normally, whether their next shows will happen, whether Jimin will be okay. Because if he isn’t, BTS isn’t, and if BTS isn’t, BigHit isn’t either. That’s how it works. Namjoon knows that. And that’s why he looks up to Sihyuk for help.

Namjoon is sure that Sihyuk knows all these things too, that he’s thinking about them right this moment while Namjoon has to remember to breathe properly and both ways, in and out, to stuff back his rising anxiety (just like his therapist told him, in and out, in and out). Sihyuk stays pretty quiet for a long moment, looking back at Namjoon but not really looking at him directly, more like… through him like he’s not focused at all. Then, he shakes his head and himself out of his trance and grabs his phone. Another thing Namjoon knows (by heart) is this new look on Sihyuk’s face as he looks for the contact and dials. It’s the I’m-concerned-for-my-kids look that he’s been sporting less and less nowadays but that had been a constant companion during their first couple of years. 

The voice on the phone reels Namjoon back in from his observations, enough to catch the relieved “Good morning, Mrs. Kang”. It’s enough to let Namjoon know that the situation is very serious but hasn’t quite reached catastrophic levels yet. Mrs. Kang is their lawyer, not their emergency response unit. Mrs. Kang clears things up, does law research and manages their contract details. She’s not responsible for decisions concerning anything related to music or marketing or member conditions, so Namjoon manages to find some hope in the thought that all these things are not endangered. PDnim will take care of any new legal issues. We’ll be fine. 

Before he reroutes his full attention back to the words filtering through his phone, Namjoon takes a second to feel himself in the room - he thinks back to his therapist talking to him about unsettling situations and anxiety. Just ground yourself in the sounds and in the feeling of your body in the room - against the chair, against the floor, wherever you are. Feel the air around you and breathe in and out. What is near you? Feel it. Focus on that rather than the anxiety inside. Namjoon breathes in and for a second, he wishes he had Jungkook’s sense of smell because the office scent in his own nose is rather weak. He does smell Sihyuk’s perfume and the lingering residue of his own cologne on the soft collar of his coat. He feels the chair’s armrests that enclose his hips and the way his shoes line up perfectly with the floor. And most importantly, he feels Jimin pawing at his ankles in an eager attempt to be scooped up and cuddled, probably. It forces a pleasant smile on Namjoon’s face that he welcomes - as if the little leopard cub has managed to shush his anxiety completely. Rightfully so, Namjoon thinks as he grabs Jimin’s tiny body, legs and arms flailing around cutely in the air, tail curling around Namjoon’s wrist. Jimin’s eyes are wide and blue and just like a little plushie’s - big enough to stand out from the rest of his body proportions and big enough to lower your defenses to attack you with cuteness. Namjoon sets his dongsaeng down on his lap before picking up the call again only to realize that he hadn’t even responded last time - so now, the robot voice is tirelessly repeating the same menu choices as before.

“-mation we have gathered about Park Jimin, press 3 to apply for a regular membership or a VIP membership, press 5 to request medical or legal support, press 7 to be connected to our Shifter and Hybrid Needs network or press 9 for other issues.”

When his mind registers the options presented to him, Namjoon doesn’t know what to think. In all honesty, those options sound nothing like his paranoia had suggested to him before - it sounds like normal customer service and that bothers Namjoon because this is a magical number that Jackson had given him… right? To be honest, Namjoon doesn’t know what a phone call with a magical number should sound like, if there’s any sample he could go by - is there any K-drama he could watch that is even halfway accurate with these magical things? Maybe he should text Jackson later.

“H-Hi,” he cringes at how shaky his own voice sounds, “w-who am I talking to?”

“Forgive my manners, Namjoon-ssi. I am your automated call agent today. Our office staff is currently not available to take your call-“

It’s so strange. Namjoon has never encountered any automated call agent that responds to his voice, or rather, his words. Normally, those things present the options menu, wait for the number he presses, and react accordingly. He’s slightly confused by how this call goes right now and Jimin whines when the big fingers in the fur on his back still. Namjoon goes back to gently stroking the cub’s fur and frowns. What if this is not a normal machine?

“Are-are you an AI? Or are you a new kind of technology somehow?”

“I am an AMI, Namjoon-ssi, designed specifically to accommodate our many clients’ needs individually.” 

An AMI. He isn’t sure if that name was given on purpose, if that is part of the message that the other side wants to transmit - an AMI? Like, ARMY? Is it meant to… be a joke? A threat maybe? Does the female robot voice introduce itself (herself?) as AMI to everyone or just him? Namjoon’s brows are furrowed and he really doesn’t know what to think, only that wilder ideas arise the more he keeps thinking, so maybe he should stop. What if- what if this is not really a robot voice but an actual ARMY that uses some sort of voice contortion device? What if this is a Sasaeng? Alarm bells ring in Namjoon’s head. He isn’t sure whether that’s possible, whether this is a valid idea, but in the handful of years he’s been an idol, he’s learned that the world is crazy. Anything is possible, especially in BTS. He brushes his fingers through Jimin’s soft fur, letting the tail drag through his hands, relishes in the warmth under the fuzz and risks a look at Sihyuk, who is still talking to their lawyer. 

“There’s no sense in waiting longer, you’re right. Is there anything you can do to activate the contract clause faster?” and then, “Yeah, same as last time.”

Namjoon sits up a little straighter. A contract clause? What does he mean by that? What kind of contract clause - he sucks in a breath. Does BangPdnim - did he plan this somehow? Was he prepared for this kind of thing to happen? Also, same as last time? Has he done this before? Is there… maybe someone else like Jimin? Another shifter in the group? Wouldn’t Jackson have mentioned that? His thoughts swirl and Namjoon feels like he’s falling through his chair, into the ground, like there’s an endless bottom opening up underneath him. Like his world changes and all his breathing exercises from before have been completely useless. Once again, the voice - AMI - pulls him back into reality. He breathes unevenly and finds Jimin’s eyes. Innocent. Unknowing. Trusting. Namjoon’s heart pounds. It aches from his yearning to take care of Jimin well. To protect him.

“May I ask you to choose from the options, Namjoon-ssi. Main menu. Press 1 to access-“

“AMI, how can I change Jimin back? Is there anything I can give him? Maybe medication, or something?”

It’s a rushed question, a question tasting like panic and helplessness. Namjoon doesn’t know what’s going on, it scares him, and he needs to find a solution. If there is even the tiniest possibility of Jimin’s contract being changed up now that he is like this, and Jimin being at a disadvantage because of it, Namjoon will make sure to make it right. He shivers because normally, he wouldn’t hesitate to ask for Sihyuk’s help, but now? It’s all messed up, he doesn’t know what’s happening and what he can do. He needs to come up with solutions, and fast.

“Shifting is a process induced by hormones, Namjoon-ssi. There is medication to trigger a shift either way but it will majorly affect hormone levels of the patient and is not recommended to be taken on a regular basis.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Would you classify this situation as an emergency?”

Namjoon thinks. He looks at Jimin, then at Sihyuk. Catches the mumbled “Can’t have that happen. No one can find out” from the CEO’s lips. Feels breathless, like endless shame is gnawing through his heart for even allowing the mere thought of Sihyuk doing anything that could harm the members. He wouldn’t. Right? Right? But right now, Namjoon can’t really judge the situation well. He doesn’t have all the information, doesn’t know what a contract clause could do in this case, what it would be for, he doesn’t know. He kind of wishes he had Hobi or Yoongi by his side right now, to help him make decisions but also to help him keep a clear head. It would certainly make things more bearable. It feels like he’s actually stepped into that alternative universe from their Heartbeat music video, where impossible things are the norm and magical creatures float around everywhere. He doesn’t understand.

“Yes, I would say so,” he breathes.

“Understood,” AMI replies promptly, “Emergency response team has been alerted. Estimated arrival in 5 minutes. Please prepare to assist the medical examination by-“

Namjoon rushes to yell into the phone, “What- NO! No, no, no! It’s not that kind of an emergency! Jimin is fine, please don’t, there’s no need-“

Sihyuk sends a worried look into his direction, but Namjoon ignores it.

“Emergency response team on standby. Please confirm your previous directive. Is this an emergency?”

“We don’t need medical attention. Jimin is fine.”

“Understood. Main menu. Please choose from the options. Press 1 to-“

His shoulders sag in relief but he feels annoyed that AMI has moved back to the main menu again without even leaving room for discussion. It beeps when Namjoon presses the 1, maybe because he actually wants to know what this AMI knows about Park Jimin, maybe because he really feels bad for making her read the main menu so often and maybe because he doesn’t know what to do and needs to kill time so Sihyuk can do this phone call together with him and maybe even because he doesn’t know if this is important or not. So, he waits for AMI’s voice with bated breath.

“1,” AMI enunciates, “general data regarding Park Jimin. Nationality: Korean. Date of birth: 1997, June 5th. Gender: female. Species: White -“

“Wait, no. That’s uh, you’ve got the wrong Park Jimin.”

AMI is talking about Park Jimin who Namjoon had first met on the set of the After School Club together with Eric Nam, and he releases a breath of relief - and loses Jimin, who takes the chance to start exploring. Like the little troublemaker his kitty alter ego is (not really a big surprise when you think about how human Jimin’s mind works), he jumps right up where he probably shouldn’t be - on the desk. The desk where documents lay, where electronic devices buzz and where little objects look interesting enough to trigger a little cat’s curiosity.

“I apologize, Namjoon-ssi,” AMI says, sounding a little confused with her robotic voice, “would you like to change Park Jimin’s profile?”

“No, no. It’s just the wrong one. There’s another Park Jimin.”

“I apologize, Namjoon-ssi,” AMI repeats and Namjoon figures it’s just how she’s programmed, “would you like to register a new profile?”

“I don’t want to register anything, I just want-“

“Main menu. Press 1 to access-“

He groans. And there she goes again. Namjoon shuffled on his seat nervously, ignoring the little growls from Jimin somewhere further away. He risks a side glance to Jimin and feels soft amusement riding up his face when the cub rolls around playing and nibbling on a small BT21 Cooky’s ears. But then he hears AMI talking, persistently repeating the main menu and Namjoon isn’t sure if he can go wrong by choosing any of the options so he just dares to ask questions. He hopes it won’t get him into trouble.

“You mentioned legal advice. Why would we need legal advice?”

“Currently, there is very little official legislation regarding the Shifter and Hybrid community in Korea. Our legal department’s services are free and extend toward every member of the Shifter and Hybrid community in Korea. We offer-“

“And what about medical support? What kind of medical support would Jimin need?”

“Our organization connects clients to a network of professional veterinarians from all over the nation. However, we have specific 24/7 on-call staff trained to assess and treat Shifters and Hybrids specifically. We also connect to therapists, nutritionists, and skin & fur care professionals if needed.”

Namjoon isn’t sure what that means, only that it actually sounds like robot lady is trying to sell them something now. Hadn’t she talked about a membership before? He feels his leg bounce impatiently. When will Sihyuk be done? Should I just wait for him? Maybe we should just discuss this before anything else-

“Namjoon-ssi, Park Jimin is currently ingesting Samsung printer ink, which can be very toxic for a leopard cub his age, please-“

As if hit by a sudden strike of lighting, Namjoon feels his body move on its own. His eyes shoot up, focusing immediately on his kitty dongsaeng playing with a dark little ink cartridge by the printer. His thumb smashes that end-call button before letting the phone collide with the table in an ugly crash. He lunges forward to grab Jimin from the desk.

“Jiminie! Don’t do that,” he scolds and feels terror spread at the sight of the little leopard wiggling in his grasp, ears drawn back in shock, cheeks and chest soaked in splashes of blue, magenta and yellow ink. “What are you thinking!”

The cub meows pitifully but doesn’t let his words match his actions with all the feisty squirming. Once again, he seeks out the help of his claws that definitely pierce Namjoon’s skin. With his concentration completely on Jimin - it’s honestly a relief that the call is over so that he can deal with one issue at the time - he jumps when Sihyuk suddenly yells a curse through the room.

“What is happening!? Namjoon-ah, what did you do?”

Namjoon whines. It’s not his fault Jimin is prone to get himself into situations like this - he’s too curious, too adventurous and too tiny for the world right now and apparently, he likes making a mess with colored liquids. The toothpaste had been harmless of course, so it wasn’t a big deal, but Namjoon can’t deny it doesn’t give him a half a heart attack looking at Jimin with those stains in his fur. He looks like a little rainbow-kitty somehow. If this wasn’t so serious, Namjoon would take photos. He knows Jimin would coo and laugh at this later and Taehyung would declare it authentic art.

“I’m sorry, hyung! I didn’t pay attention for a second and- do you have tissues?”

Sihyuk throws him a package of wet tissues from some shelf by the wall, but like Namjoon expects, it basically doesn’t do anything to get the ink out of the leopard’s fur. It doesn’t look like Jimin minds or like he even understands the fuss (he purrs when Namjoon rubs his body down), but the humans certainly do. Namjoon sinks back into his chair and sighs, one of his hands brushing through his own hair in an attempt to calm himself. It takes a second to just calm down from the pulsing shock, so he just lets Jimin play with his hands until the little leopard loses interest and starts nosing Namjoon’s belly, the pockets of Namjoon’s jeans, and puts his tiny paws on Namjoon’s thighs, looking up.

“How are you so tiny and still such a troublemaker, Jiminie?”

Jimin stays in his position for quite a bit as if he wants to say something but Namjoon doesn’t get the hint, doesn’t know what Jimin wants, and realizes AMI is still talking. By now, he considers just hanging up and calling Jackson. Or one of the hyungs. He could really use a hyung now, just a steady, calming presence next to him like in English interviews or Award Shows. Jimin, who still has his nose buried in Namjoon’s jeans (where his pockets are), whines. 

“What is it, baby, huh? What do you need?”

The little leopard only snuffles wetly along Namjoon’s pockets (which are empty) and when the rapper tries to grab the cat, Jimin hisses. But then he slips because he’s a clumsy little thing with only a short, shivering tail that doesn’t know how to balance the body attached to it and his paws lose grip on Namjoon’s thigh so he glides off the side. Luckily, Namjoon’s reflexes are quick enough to shoot after his dongsaeng and grab his leg so that he can lift the kitty back up his lap before anything can happen. (He pictures the scene like one of those Dads grabbing their kid falling from the couch in those Dad-compilations. It’s epic.) He yelps when Jimin’s tiny fangs sink into his hand. He receives a vicious hiss on top and feels betrayed.

“Jimin! Don’t bite me like that! I saved you. No need to be so ungrateful.”

But the cub doesn’t seem to feel grateful or repentant and continues his search for whatever it is he hopes to find in Namjoon’s pockets. It’s a tad irritating to be ignored like this when normally, Jimin is so thoughtful and kind.

“If you feel bratty like this, you can gladly spend the rest of our time back in the box.”

At this, Jimin does look up and for a second, Namjoon feels something spark in his chest. Did he understand that? Did he understand me?

“The box? Do you want to go back into the box? Maybe that’s not such a bad idea, huh? You could nap a bit and you’ll feel much better.”

He gets up slowly, trying to grab Jimin on the way, but the little cub struggles too much so that Namjoon has to set him down to not have his hands torn up.

“C’mon, baby. We’ll put you back until you feel better, huh?”

All his hope is crushed when Jimin avoids the box like it’s hell even if he seemed to like it so much before. Any attempt to shoo him near the box fails and after a couple of minutes chasing the kitty around, Namjoon gives up. He goes back to his chair, plopping down and watching as Jimin tapers off to run circles in front of the fish tank and eventually trods over to Sihyuk’s feet. That, in turn, has Namjoon on edge, because Sihyuk is busy and concentrated on the phone call and Jimin is tiny and Namjoon knows from experience how easy the cub is to overlook and almost step on. But the CEO smiles at Namjoon and gives him a thumbs up. He straightens up and stands with his feet planted firmly on the ground, not bouncing on the balls of his feet like he usually does when on the phone. When Jimin starts to roll around, making it his mission to catch Sihyuk’s shoelaces, the man chuckles fondly. It’s a relief and Namjoon can’t believe he thought Sihyuk would somehow maybe make a bad choice just because Jimin turned into a baby animal.

“Yes, please let me know what options we have,” the CEO says. “Thank you.”

Namjoon uses the minute of peace and quiet to send a text to Jackson.

> Hey man, what exactly is the number on the card for? Why do they call themselves an AMI? Is it the same as ARMY?

He doesn’t get an answer immediately, so he stares at the little 1 in their Kakao chat for as long as he can and sighs when he turns his phone back off. 

“Who are you trying to reach?” Sihyuk whispers, covering the microphone with his hand. 

“Jackson.”

“GOT7 has their promotions in Europe now, don’t be disappointed if he doesn’t text back quickly.”

Jimin seems to get tired of playing with Sihyuk’s shoelaces and goes back to doing his own tour of the office. His little tail quivers in excitement as he sniffs every corner and rolls around on the carpet. Every now and then, there’s a little squeak that Namjoon finds adorable and that he wishes he could save in his heart for bad days. Namjoon focuses back on Sihyuk’s phone call. He can already see the many meetings with managers and staff this change could potentially cause; meetings to accommodate Jimin’s needs and to make sure everything stays under wraps for as long as possible. Or, depending on the outcome of the phone call, (Namjoon has assured himself by now that it will not end in a cancellation of Jimin’s contract because Sihyuk would never let go of Jimin, who is basically one of his fifteen children), a new round of contract negotiations. For the entire group, possibly, depending on the details Mrs. Kang will present to them. Namjoon hopes they can find a beneficial solution for everyone.

Suddenly, a strange sound moves into his focus, persistently interrupting his strategic thoughts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. It’s a weird scratching, not like a scratch on skin or wood or maybe clothes. It sounds different, like fabric snagging on something sharp and being released and Namjoon turns his head to look for the origin of the sound. There’s something in the corner of his eye that rouses suspicion. Jimin. Jimin is kneading the carpet. Alarm bells ring in Namjoon’s mind immediately. Kneading, scratching, peeing. It’s an established pattern that he’s observed during the past days. So far, his success rate of removing Jimin from a place like this (aka. a place that’s not his litter box) and carrying him some other place (aka. the backyard) stands at a proud 80%. However, the memories of the other 20% spur him on and Namjoon is out of his chair faster than he can even think about a plan. 

Jimin startles at the sudden movement and jumps out of the way when the rapper tries to grab him. He’s much quicker than his tiny legs suggest and runs to hide behind the big pot that holds the pretty rosé-blossom tree by the wall that backs against the hallway. He probably thinks the big pot will hide him well until Namjoon shows up again, still aware of what’s at stake here (the carpet, Jimin’s new reputation, and both Namjoon’s and Sihyuk’s sanity). In a determined effort to keep Sihyuk’s office sanitary and welcoming, he sneaks up on the leopard. Hands grab air and Namjoon groans. When he turns around, he notices the little tail peeking out from below Sihyuk’s desk. 

The CEO by the window himself doesn’t seem to notice what’s going on and Namjoon kind of feels like he could have used AMI’s emergency team after all. This is the second, no third emergency of the day and maybe, okay just maybe, Namjoon thinks he might have done something bad in his previous life so that the universe thought it would be fair to make him his dongsaeng’s babysitter. Suddenly, a VIP membership sounds tempting… do they offer babysitter services?

“Jimin-ah,” he whispers, “I swear, if you even think about peeing under hyung’s desk…”

Namjoon approaches slowly. If anything, he figures he should approach the leopard in a smart way. He’s aware that he probably doesn’t have much time left before the cat’s urge to relieve itself becomes insurmountable, so he tells himself to get it all over with quickly. What’s the best way to get Park Jimin to do almost anything you want? Sweet-talk. Namjoon approaches slowly and kneels. Before him, he sees the paper bin underneath the desk, a ton of (neatly bound) cables and the wooden legs of the table. Crouching, he grabs around the garbage can, meeting an amused meow that almost sounds like he’s laughing. Again, Jimin flees before Namjoon can get a hold of him.

“Ah, come on Jimin-ah, my cutest, prettiest, loveliest dongsaeng,” he coaxes, “You were doing so good yesterday, kitten…”

But Jimin doesn’t come back. He just sits on the carpet, tauntingly close, with a lively glint in his eyes. Jimin is watching Namjoon and the rapper doesn’t fail to note the excitement that lets the cat’s tail whip around wildly. So this is a game to you, huh?

When suddenly two legs appear right next to Namjoon’s face, he yelps. His hand gets tangled in some cable on the floor. He slips and slams his head against the metal paper bin, making it fall and spill everywhere. A nasty burn hits his temple and when he reaches up to touch the skin there, the cable around his hand pulls taut. Namjoon’s bad luck is endless, apparently, because something tumbles and crashes upon the table. Sihyuk lets out a yelp. Like a miscalculated movement in the shower, a quick burst of water hits Namjoon from above. He shrieks, feeling the wetness settle and hopes Sihyuk didn’t have any important documents out on the table. He doesn’t pay attention, but he can feel Jimin watching him from the carpet with amused eyes. When he looks, the little leopard rolls around, looking the most Jimin-like ever - like he’s laughing so hard that he just has to throw his body against something.

“Namjoon-ah!” Sihyuk yells, albeit more urgent than angry, “where are you? Kim Namjoon!”

“I’m here,” Namjoon groans, still rubbing his forehead. He’s sure the spot’s gonna be blue tomorrow. Yoongi’s gonna have a good laugh for sure.

“Where is here?”

The rapper crawls out from underneath the table. He sees movement from the corner of his eye but focuses on Sihyuk.

“No, I’m talking to Kim Namjoon,” he says into the phone and looks up only to have his eyes widen with a really panicked look in them. He jumps up, pointing into the room. “Don’t let him pee in there! That Sakura tree is from the President!”

When Namjoon whips his head around, making a cascade of water fly everywhere, he finds Jimin not on the carpet like he’d assumed, but in the big plant pot along with the Japanese tree. Jimin is walking around the stem of the little tree like he’s got a monopoly on the spot. From the body language, Namjoon can tell that the cat is calm and relaxed. Ideal for business. Oh no.

“Yes, hyung!”

Namjoon runs like he hasn’t in a long time (the couple days that he’s been on this pseudo-vacation) and finally snatches an unassuming Jimin right out of the tree pot, hands grabbing for the cat with so much determination that he even scoops up some earth. He hears mewling. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters in this emergency, and Namjoon looks around, nerves strung high, adrenaline rushing. He frowns when he realizes that there’s no litter box over here in the office. That leaves him with only one option: A dash for the bathroom. 

Quickly, he runs to the door. There’s a moment of hesitation. He isn’t sure how he should hide Jimin from all the people in the building but considering that the bathrooms aren’t really far away, he hopes no one will cross his way. (Especially now that Jimin looks so violently colorful). A thought crosses his mind. What if Sejin is still outside? There’s a possibility that the manager has gone to his own office to get some work done while waiting but there’s also the possibility that he’s out there and springs up at the door opening and sees Jimin right away. It’s nothing I have control over, Namjoon reassures himself. He feels Jimin’s little cry in his heart and nods. Let’s go.

Stepping out into the hallway feels a bit like coming out of the shower - out of the cozy, safe warmth and into the frightening cold outside. When Jimin keeps wriggling, softly crowing his discomfort, Namjoon repositions him so that his hands won’t press on the leopard’s belly so much. He looks to the side and freezes. Sejin is on the sofa. Luckily, he’s got his eyes glued to his phone and doesn’t seem to have noticed Namjoon yet - and Namjoon is determined not to let it happen either. Before Jimin can make any loud sounds, Namjoon turns and runs. He does manage to run with Jimin in front of his torso so he isn’t visible from behind. Even if Sejin were to look after them, Jimin would be out of view. Namjoon keeps his eyes on the hallway door until a yell comes from behind.

“Kim Namjoon! Wait up!”

Don’t stop, keep running, Namjoon tells himself, glad that the 6km are a result on his step counter every day, not Sejin’s. Sure, Sejin jogs and stays in shape but Namjoon dances and runs around and is much younger too, so he doesn’t even pant as he takes the next turn to the left and runs towards the men’s bathrooms. The door doesn’t budge when Namjoon uses the handle. A flare of adrenaline-induced panic drips down Namjoon’s chest and he wants to curse. He finds a sign that says “Out of order”. Great. Now, where to?

It’s a good thing that Namjoon is so familiar with the building. Practically, this is the building’s office level that BTS members don’t necessarily have to visit very often. But Namjoon is a regular guest in all kinds of offices, so he is not at a great disadvantage. He knows the way, knows a couple of bathrooms strewn all over the levels. It takes a few risks to bring Jimin there as fast as possible - Namjoon dodges people but almost knocks the head of the PR department off his feet as he rounds a corner and gets drenched in coffee. He runs on, apologizing with a quick but deep bow that almost makes him stumble, takes the stairs and finally, finally reaches the end of the next hallway, the men’s bathroom, an empty stall, and holds a trembling Jimin over the toilet. The leopard fusses, not liking the feeling of being held like this, in the air over an abyss of water. He whimpers. 

“C’mon Jiminie, look at me, I ran all the way over here for you,” he says, “give it some effort.”

It’s a moment of desperation but Namjoon feels warm inside (well, he’s sweating). He’s looking at Jimin and suddenly, he feels like he’s in a film, like he’s a Dad trying to potty-train his kid. Jimin shivers, ears flicking and turning constantly and even Namjoon’s gentle attempts to coax him into peeing don’t help. Those big blue eyes look like they’re gonna burst with tears at any moment. Can cats cry?

“You’re doing it wrong,” someone says behind him.

Namjoon jerks and swears he would have almost let Jimin drop. It’s Sejin and that means that Namjoon’s only got two options. Maybe Sejin knows what’s going on, maybe he doesn’t. In this moment, Namjoon doesn’t even let his fear of being discovered bubble up. He’s here to fix an issue, solve a problem, so he’s gotta get on with it. Sejin is on his side, so whatever happens, he’ll help. Namjoon is sure.

“Sorry,” Sejin says, breathing a little heavy as well, “just let him sit. Cats don’t like to be touched while peeing.”

Namjoon nods, suddenly feeling grateful that it’s Sejin who’s come after him. Sejin is the kind of hyung who just sees the need and helps, no matter what. There’s not a single occasion Namjoon can think of where Sejin has refused to help any member of the group. Of course, one could argue that it’s his job but Namjoon has seen people do their jobs and finds that Sejin is doing more than just a job - he’s taking care of Bangtan with passion and foresight, and sees their relationship as a way to install his substitute-Dad-wisdoms in them.

“He’s too small for the toilet though. He’ll fall in.”

“You need something like a litter box.”

Sejin moves around, drawing out a plastic container from below the sink. It’s a plastic container filled with wet tissues, deodorant the PR people keep in here for emergencies, and some excess paper towel rolls. Sejin fills it up with toilet paper and lets Namjoon place Jimin in it. Jimin circles the container, meows and finally seems satisfied. Namjoon looks away when the cub crouches. He doesn’t need to see that, cause it’s creepy, and rather turns his attention to Sejin.

“Not that I mind, but… why does your cat look like my three-year old’s drawings?”

Namjoon doesn’t know why but somehow, this question is so funny to him that he just starts to laugh - he laughs and laughs and when he’s done, he feels like somehow, a knot around his heart has loosened. He feels lighter than before and breathes. He’s tired but Sejin is here with him, and he knows it will be okay. Here on the cold tiles of the bathroom door, Namjoon finds a revelation coming to him. It approaches as he watches Sejin prepare the litter box for Jimin and unravels as Jimin joyfully runs a circle in it before crouching. It hits, however, in this moment of innocent glee, when Namjoon just enjoys the fact that their manager and friend is here with him. I’m not supposed to do this alone, Namjoon realizes, I was never meant to do it alone. He almost feels stupid that this feels like a revelation to him - he’s the leader of a seven-member group and still, his mind had automatically turned to selfie mode. But then again, he had felt so alone, this morning in the cold apartment, without any of the other members yelling around and sneaking Namjoon’s breakfast off his plate. His heart warms up as he watches Sejin smile at Jimin.

“Thanks for running after me and helping, hyung,” Namjoon says, grateful for the way the bathroom acoustics make it sound so much bigger, “I really appreciate it.”

Sejin smiles. “I’ll always help you, Namjoon-ah. Just let me know what I can do.”

There are some occurrences in life - sort of like déjà-vus - that make Namjoon hold his breath. Maybe it’s not that significant, but the way Sejin sounds like Seokjin almost makes Namjoon tear up right now. In his heart, he feels himself looking forward to the moment Seokjin’s banter echoes through their apartment again, the moment Namjoon steps through the door and looks into his hyung’s face. The moment Seokjin will hug him whether Namjoon wants to or not, and the moment he’ll feel his hyung breathe against his neck in a warm, friendly embrace. And the moment of relief, where Namjoon tells all the members what’s going on, where they talk over one another in an attempt to encourage Jimin and make him giggle in glee. It’s all gaining color and shape in Namjoon’s mind and with the image, hope and courage rise inside of him. Everything will be fine, and even with Jimin’s nagging self-doubt and perfectionism and whatnot, they will find a way. They will push the bad things away. Together.

“It’s great to have you on the team, hyung, seriously. I don’t know if I ever said this, but I’m really grateful for you.”

“Aw, cute. Why are you so sentimental all of a sudden?”

Namjoon shrugs, eyes turning back to Jimin so Sejin won’t see how mushy Namjoon feels inside, how much more he could say but won’t because he doesn’t want his hyung to suffocate under the avalanche of compliments and heartfelt emotions he’s still got in store. The right dosage is important, Namjoon-ah, he remembers Yoongi saying back in the dark, one shared night in their four-year-old studio chairs with takeout in their hands, don’t overwhelm people with your words. You’re too powerful with words sometimes, people don’t know what to do with it. It’s your superpower, so use it responsibly.

“I still don’t know why your cat looks like he’s just come back from a children’s birthday party.”

“PDnim tried to fix his own printer again. He left an ink cartridge on the desk and this little baby,” Namjoon pokes Jimin, who just meows, “was a bit too curious.”

“I don’t understand hyung. I told him he’s got an assistant for stuff like that.”

“He’s stubborn.”

“Yeah,” Sejin chuckles and they both watch how Jimin lifts one leg over the walls of the make-shift litter box, one after the other, very carefully. He catches on the rim with the last paw and lands on his snout with a soft thud. Following the momentum, he stumbles right into Namjoon’s shin and looks up wide-eyed like he can’t believe he just did that. Namjoon isn’t sure why he expects to see tears - probably because Tae is making him watch all those baby and toddler videos lately - but Jimin just whines, stands up and starts climbing Namjoon’s leg. 

“Aish, always so clumsy, baby,” Namjoon mumbles, cooing at the tiny cat in his arms. “You scared me, baby. I thought you hurt yourself. Are you okay?” He kisses Jimin on the head but lets him sniff at Sejin’s hands when he tries to. He doesn’t give much of a reaction, which is not necessarily bad - it’s not a rejection. Sejin smiles and scratches Jimin behind the ears. The cub purrs against Namjoon’s hand, happily closing his eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“Didn’t hyung fill you in already?”

“When? In the five seconds when you ran from me?”

“Good point. So, er-“ Namjoon takes a deep breath. There’s something about sitting on bathroom floors, something cold that makes you share your warmth and your inner thoughts, Namjoon thinks as he looks at Sejin. It’s a BigHit bathroom, so it’s clean, nothing like a public bathroom, but still - the floor under his feet makes him feel a bit bare, a bit lonely even if he’s not, and makes him want to not keep secrets.

“So, I uh… Well, Jimin, and I know it sounds er-strange, turned into a cat two days ago and I basically don’t know what I’m doing.”

Sejin does look surprised, looking back and forth between Jimin and Namjoon a couple times, as if he’s trying to figure out whether he’s become a victim to a prank or something.

“Are you serious?”

“I am. It’s not exactly… a great time but I’m glad this didn’t happen during our tour last year.”

“Wow. How are you so calm about this?”

“Well, I’ve had two days to come to terms with this now. But still, it’s a mess, hyung. I think I did well taking care of him so far, but it’s all a mess.”

“Remember when we first met, you and I?”

“Oh God,” Namjoon groans, “I don’t think I will ever forget that.”

“You were a mess back then too. So it’s okay, I can deal with a mess. I’m used to it,” the manager nudges Namjoon in the side with his elbow and Namjoon nods. It’s nice hearing that, and fitting, if Namjoon honestly thinks about their relationship. Yeah, Sejin has seen and has fixed messes left and right. Namjoon’s heart feels a little lighter when he hears those words. Jimin nuzzles into his hand in his lap and Namjoon feels a pang of affection travel through his body.

“Life is life, huh?”

It’s what Jimin and he have always been saying, ever since their first trip to LA. Life isn’t always fair, not always good, actually a lot less than good a lot of the time, but together, it’s not as bad and even great sometimes. Jimin curls into Namjoon’s lap, letting his body drop as if he’s too tired to hold it up much longer. He wants to be carried like the little maknae line member he is, starving for affection and attention.

“Should we go back?”

“What do we do with the litter box?”

“Do you have one at home?”

“Er, no. Jimin went outside for the past couple of days.”

“In the backyard!? Where people walk? Yah, Kim Namjoon! Also, think about your dongsaeng. That can’t be hygienic! Don’t tell me you really let Jimin outside every time he-“

Namjoon has to grin because of the scolding but blushes. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

“Well, that’s not allowed anymore. Do you at least have cat food or anything?”

“Not really. I promise I’ll work harder to be well prepared, hyung!”

“I see. Let’s drop off Jiminie and go cat-shopping. If he is a baby like this, we need to take care of him well, right?”

“Drop him off where?”

Sejin just pulls out his phone and dials a number. Namjoon can’t see the caller ID, but he doesn’t feel the need to ask either. When someone picks up and Sejin starts to rant, he sounds almost like a fake-enraged Seokjin. It’s like the familiar feeling replaces a little cavity-like hole in Namjoon’s heart that’s started to build the moment the members left for their vacations. It forces him to smile.

“Yoongi-yah, I’ve told you a dozen times not to bring your sick children to work.”

“Jimin is here?”

Sejin falters when the enthusiasm that breaks the mumble that is Yoongi’s work voice sounds through the speaker. Jimin squeaks suddenly, asking to be let down, so Namjoon lifts him up and makes him look right into his eyes. For a moment, he ignores that Jimin doesn’t understand and just hopes that his plea will get through. Namjoon tells the cub firmly not to create any trouble right now. Then, Yoongi speaks to him.

“Namjoon-ah, how are you holding up? Everything okay?”

“Honestly, hyung? It’s a mess. I’m a mess. Jimin is fine, but I don’t think I am.”

His thoughts fly back to the office. Sihyuk’s phone call with their lawyer, all that secretive talk about contracts and even the phone call with AMI. He remembers his confusion, his doubts, his fears - fears for Jimin, who innocently tries to climb up Sejin’s shins. There’s a rustle on the other side of the line that makes Namjoon’s heart beat suspiciously fast with some sort of anticipation. 

“Okay, stay where you are. Don’t worry, hyung is coming, hyung will take it from here.”

Sejin makes a face and Namjoon feels the exact same way. Baffled. What’s going on? What’s with the sudden rush of affection? 

“No need to baby me-“

“Oi, hyung is on his way, yeah? Where are you guys?”

“The bathroom by the PR department.”

Namjoon feels oddly confirmed. As if Yoongi’s sudden overbearing and sweet response was a wink from the universe. You’re not meant to do this alone, Namjoon. His stomach does a little jump at how much comfort Yoongi offers to him just by referring to himself as hyung (which Yoongi rarely does for him). Namjoon’s mind tells him that Yoongi will only baby him now that Taehyung and Jungkook are gone but in secret, behind really thick doors, Namjoon feels a tiny voice wishing for it to be a regular treatment. Namjoon has got Yoongi’s full hyung focus, even if he hasn’t explicitly asked for it. He knows that all the hyungs are attuned to the younger members’ needs but sometimes he forgets that he’s one of them. The leader position can be both a blessing and a curse. 

When Yoongi opens the bathroom door and steps in and Jimin pounces forward with a string of excited chirps, not letting himself get held down by anything or anyone, Namjoon’s eyes widen. Yoongi kneels, scooping up Jimin, totally enveloping the leopard baby against his chest.

“Did you miss me, baby? Ah, I bet you missed hyung so bad, huh? Aish, what did they do to you, hm? You’re all messy. Don’t worry, they’re all idiots who mean well. But hyung will take care of you now.”

Namjoon listens to Jimin’s sweet, chirpy responses that really sound like the kitty is trying to answer Yoongi. They look perfect together, Lil Meow Meow and the cub. Sejin seems to think the same because he’s sneakily taking pictures from the side. Namjoon makes the mistake of thinking that it’s all Yoongi is going to say. He doesn’t expect Yoongi to step forward and look right into his eyes even while Jimin keeps rubbing his cheeks against Yoongi’s heart.

“And how’s my other baby? Running around, destroying everything, coloring his dongsaeng? Tell hyung how to fix it, yeah?”

It’s the weirdest thing ever - Namjoon doesn’t know what exactly it is with Yoongi’s words (maybe it’s the way they float over to him like the steam over a cup of his favorite tea, like they aren’t meant to tease when you just allow yourself to feel them properly) but they make Namjoon’s composure crumble. His cheeks feel wet all of the sudden and he’s sniffing (not bawling, thank God) and leaning into Yoongi’s big hand cupping his cheek.

“It’s not your fault, hey,” Yoongi hushes him and he finds himself under the direct but tender attention of his hyung. “I wish you would have let me know that you needed me so I could come to help you out, you know. That’s what I’m here for.”

“You’re here to rap,” Namjoon sniffles, trying to swallow down his wild emotions.

“And yet I dance like a god.”

Namjoon snorts. 

“It’s not like I can only do one thing at a time, Namjoon-ah. I thought you knew that.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, hyung. Thank you for your support.”

Jimin begins nosing around Yoongi’s chest and arms now. Namjoon nudges Yoongi.

“Hyung, he’s been doing that since a while, what-?”

“He’s hungry. Did you bring any food?”

Wow. That makes so much sense. Jimin is hungry. How did I not understand that? It makes so much sense now that Namjoon knows what it means. 

“I-I brought shrimps.”

For some reason, Yoongi doesn’t look impressed or happy. 

“It’ll do,” he mumbles and moves to walk out of the bathroom. “Let’s go.”

“Manager-hyung and I thought we could go shopping in a bit, we wanted to leave Jimin with you. We’ll buy everything Jimin needs.”

“We could definitely need some cat equipment. Bring one of those fluffy little stick-thingies that cats like to play with. Those are fun.”

“Uh, sure,” Namjoon nods, absolutely not sure if a) he knows what Yoongi means, b) stores will have a “fluffy little stick-thingy that cats like to play with” or if c) a store employee will be able to translate the term for Namjoon. He’ll give it a try anyway. “I just need to get my jacket.”

“Maybe buy some rubbing alcohol as well.”

“What do you want with rubbing alcohol, hyung?”

“Clean this little baby. As much as the color explosion is cute, I doubt it’ll be good for him if he licks it up. Isn’t that right, Jiminie?”

Jiminie doesn’t respond. He’s fallen asleep, probably overwhelmed by the chaos around him. Namjoon feels slightly guilty for putting him through so much stress. Yoongi is obviously so much better at this. I should have just asked him to watch over Jimin. Namjoon knows that’s his own shadow talking, his disappointment at his own clumsiness that still haunts him sometimes. But it still feels like a real feeling, even if it’s a lie, and Namjoon’s shoulders sag at the sight of the little leopard breathing softly into Yoongi’s neck. 

Namjoon doesn’t say a word on their way back to the office and doesn’t even listen to Yoongi and Sejin discussing which cat toys and foods should be bought and how big their monthly budget should be for cat necessities. When the three of them enter Sihyuk’s office, it kind of looks a bit thrashed - Namjoon’s chair is on its side in the middle of the room (it must have toppled over when Namjoon had rushed to grab Jimin), there’s clearly a wet spot around Sihyuk’s desk, an even bigger mess underneath the table and a trail of earth leading from the Sakura plant to the door. Namjoon’s head threatens to hang even lower at the visible chaos (and the “oh wow, what happened here” that slips through Sejin’s lips) but Sihyuk’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Option 1. Let’s hear what you have.”

Namjoon’s brows furrow. How-? Is he on the phone with AMI? Then, curiosity rises. Will AMI tell Sihyuk the same as him?

“Option 1. Park Ji-” AMI pauses, almost as if she is thinking, “Good morning, Min Yoongi, Kim Sejin.”

Namjoon shivers. How does this supposedly automatic robot know who is in the room? How can they know? Maybe it’s this uncertainty that makes him feel so uneasy. Could it be that they are watching us? It sounds a little crazy in his mind, but he honestly doesn’t have a clue how else she would know. Maybe it’s magic. Namjoon sighs.

“Option 1. Park Jimin. Date of birth: 1997, June 5th. Gender: female; Nationality: Korean; Spe-“

“That’s not what I asked. Tell me what you have on my kid.”

Sihyuk sighs, visibly disgruntled with how this call is turning out. But the way he said my kid, it makes Namjoon grin fondly. Even if he’s not the person in question, he feels loved. Namjoon can’t help but smirk at how strictly Sihyuk deals with anything that has to do with the Bangtan Boys. Now that the CEO is on it, everything will be fine. AMI stays silent for a while, almost as if she is processing the request or gathering information or something.

“Option 1. Park Jimin. Date of birth: 1994, October, 13; Gender: male; Nationality: Korean; Species: Korean leopard; Genetic Expression: Dominant; Blood Type: A. Species warnings: strong predatory drive, exceptional senses and strength, possibly sensitive to aggressive behavior, solitary and nocturnal behavior; Species requirements: meat-based diet, extensive territory, regular physical exertion; Currently scheduled appointments: Physical Exam 1 by on-duty Shifter Staff of Seoul District.”

“Finally. Now, I would like to know how you have attained this load of information about Park Jimin and how you justify keeping it without our consent.”

“Sir, may I remind you that I am merely an AMI, and cannot substitute for your assigned customer client. I am however able to book an appointment for you with one of our staff…”

Yoongi makes a noise next to Namjoon. Even Sejin shuffles around on his feet. Namjoon feels slightly nauseous. He goes to sit down and Yoongi chooses to stand by his side, hand touching Namjoon’s neck, a soothing message of reassurance. Which is needed. This is a lot. A lot more than expected and somewhat scary, even in the face of 14 million wild Armys knowing more than is healthy about each member of BTS. As the information sinks in, Namjoon realizes that there are two options with this. Either, this is a terrible situation in which the robot lady and her organization are actually a threat, or they are a help and genuinely assist Jimin without any hidden agenda or contract. Heck, this would be so much easier as a commercial offer. Commercial offers are easy to deal with - you either accept, negotiate, or decline. BigHit gets hundreds of them every month, but this-? This is something else entirely.

“Who is your employer?”

“I apologize, Sihyuk-ssi. I am not authorized to communicate confidential information to clients.”

“I’m not your client.”

“Sir, please understand that the law requires for every shifter to be listed in our registry - which includes the scheduled check-ups and following classes-“

“Classes?”

“Sihyuk-ssi, we are required by law to ensure that every person in our registry knows their rights and understands their body. We are simply providing an educational tool to prevent diseases as well as help Shifters and Hybrids to live well. Our organization was founded with these goals in mind.”

“Let’s talk this through with our lawyer. I would like to make use of an appointment. For now, please do enter Park Jimin into your registry.”

“Very well. I will now propose a date for you with one of our customer service staff.”

“Sorry for making you wait,” Sihyuk says once he puts down his phone (he has to look for a good spot for a few seconds because there’s printer ink all over his desk). He looks into their faces. Namjoon can see how affected he is by this situation - a situation that turns tables and reshapes their group dynamics, possibly.

“Hey Yoongi,” he smiles. “Did you get the USB stick I sent you?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, “I got it. What I’ve heard so far sounded great but I’ll look though it tomorrow. Thanks, PDnim.”

Sihyuk also greets Sejin but Namjoon doesn’t really listen anymore. He just wants to get the box and go home - no, right, he wanted to go shopping with Sejin. Namjoon is so tired. It’s like with a high-focus test where you hold up your concentration for so long but when it’s over, you feel your entire existence slack with exhaustion. He shifts in his chair.

Sihyuk’s eyes fall on Namjoon. “You okay?”

“No.”

“Namjoon, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re probably overthinking.”

“Hyung, how are we supposed to have our comeback like this? I looked at the schedules, it’s soon. What if Jimin shifts in the middle of a concert? What if we can’t get him to shift back? Even this robot lady said there’s no medication. It’s impossible to be an artist like us when you turn into a cat like this. It’s impossible.”

“Okay, listen. This situation is not unfixable and not impossible to solve, Namjoon-ah. We can do anything.”

“We can’t do everything, hyung.”

“Did I or did I not set you up to meet Warren G before you were famous?”

Namjoon blushes. Right.

“You did.”

“I did. That was impossible, wasn’t it? You guys became global stars. That was impossible, wasn’t it? You guys are one of the greatest artists in history. That’s impossible too, isn’t it? Raise your standard. RM is impossible. This,” he points at Jimin, who slowly begins to stir against Yoongi’s throat, “it’s just a page in your story. We’ll get through it and it will be okay. Okay?”

Namjoon nods. His head bobs much heavier than usual, as if it suddenly weighs more. He hears Yoongi coo at Jimin and watches him boop the tired little cat’s nose. Then, as if he’s actually attuned to the cat’s thoughts, he reminds Namjoon to look for Jimin’s snacks. He pulls his jacket off the chair, grabs the little plastic bag (the little bag almost rips in his hands but Namjoon manages to just prevent the fourth emergency on the day - a pile of shrimp on his CEO’s office floor) and hands it over to Yoongi, who walks out with the sleepy leopard cub, leaving only Sihyuk, Sejin and Namjoon behind. To some, it might look like disrespect, especially in terms of Korean society rules, but in reality, it’s both an open display of trust towards Namjoon to fill him in on all the important details later, and a display of responsibility as a hyung who prioritizes taking care of his dongsaeng. Namjoon doesn’t care. His fingers smell gross. Like dried shrimp. There’s no sink. Focus, Namjoon. Focus just for a little bit. You’re an adult, behave like one. You can wash up and be tired later.

“Hyung, what does this phone call mean? Do we really have to register Jimin and all that?”

“Yes. We have to take them seriously. That organization does its work well.”

“But what is it that they do? I talked with AMI for at least ten minutes but I still don’t know who they are.”

“They are a government-funded agency who protects shifters and hybrids in different aspects. I only know that they dragged two entertainment companies to court because they had not registered a couple of their trainees. The court decided that it was mistreatment even if they were treated like everyone else.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, there are different laws for shifters and humans but I don’t know much about that yet. I’ll have to go through it with our lawyers.”

“But… if they are government-funded, how did I never hear of this? A court case with other entertainment companies, I’m sure that would have been on the news, right?”

“That was many years ago. I don’t know when this organization was founded, but they must have been working hard to protect every shifter since then.”

“I didn’t even know stuff like this existed…”

“Well, the community is rather small. People don’t talk about it and I’m sure many people don’t know that this stuff exists. As far as I know, most magical creatures are hiding the fact that they are magic. Even the organization runs secretly.”

“Hyung, isn’t that contradictory? How could they be part of the government if they run secretly?”

“I really don’t know much, but I think they aren’t part of the government… just consultants with a special status. And funded. I’m not sure how it works. But they execute laws, like registering shifters and hybrids.”

“Okay… so now Jimin is registered. What now?”

“I’ll take care of the contracts and you take care of Jimin.”

“Okay, I’ll ask Hobi what we can do about-“

“You can’t tell the members, Namjoon-ah.” 

Namjoon isn’t sure he’s heard right. All the mushiness and good warmth from before vanishes in a second. His heart actually skips a beat. He feels awfully cold and like he’s been electrocuted at once. At least it wakes him up. What!?

“What?”

“Don’t tell the members.”

“Why? Jimin will need all the support he can get and I don’t want him to feel any less loved than before. I know that all of the members will feel the same.”

There are a hundred issues lining up right now, but Namjoon knows that their biggest problem of all will be Jimin himself. Because in the end, Jimin’s soul is not a bird that nests easily in a new environment. Of the last eight years that Namjoon has spent by Jimin’s side, he’s witnessed the boy go from believing horrid lies about himself to starving himself like even his worst enemy wouldn’t do to him. Sure, Jimin has overcome these things, has found firm footing in the muddy path called identity. He’s come to love himself, riding on the wave of fresh wind that his brothers’ love is for him. Nonetheless, Namjoon can’t stop worrying about every new wave that comes crashing on the shore. Namjoon knows Jimin is particular about his body. Knows the boy is strategic and sometimes painfully pessimistic in his thoughts without even trying to be and prone to driving himself into feeling lonely. Jimin is so precious and Namjoon just wants to see him be happy. The possibility of the truth coming out to the public and at the wrong time almost hits Namjoon harder than he thinks it could hit Jimin. It resonates in his bones with an evil ache. To think that Jimin will face yet another challenge, that the look of desperation and anger might appear again in his eyes. And that Namjoon can’t help, can’t make it better. And even if Namjoon knows that it won’t be bad forever, that Jimin will get through this and feel better about it all someday but Namjoon just doesn’t know the price. And that hurts. But the members - the members should know. Because they won’t judge him. They will carry it all with him. 

“He won’t. Listen, I don’t want him to feel pressured by this. It’s a huge change for him and he will need some time to figure it all out. And especially now, with the comeback approaching, I want you all to be focused. I know you guys always work hard and you always do your best. But we all know how fragile such a preparation period before a comeback is and how quickly it can become oppressing if bad news hits.”

Namjoon’s mind wanders back to when he’d undergone surgery and the schedule had only allowed it at a time when their next comeback had been on the horizon already. Like a cloud flying overhead, Namjoon’s trip to the hospital and the slight (secret) complications had thrown a shadow over their preparations. Back then, it had definitely stressed the other members, even if their dance practices and recordings had all been on time and perfect. 

“Hyung, we’ve always got stuff going on. After the comeback, we have shows lining up, then the next tour and a hundred different events in between, like the Summer package, like mv shoots. There’s no better time to deal with this than right now. I can’t keep this a secret from the members and then expect them to be happy about it when I tell them later. They deserve to know.”

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. As long as the contracts aren’t renewed…”

“Hyung, I can’t accept that. Jimin won’t do well with this secret. You know how he treats himself sometimes and how difficult changes are for him. Especially Hobi should know since they are roommates.”

“I trust Yoongi and you to be by Jimin’s side until everything is prepared.”

“What do you need to prepare?”

“Well, a change like this… needs to be reflected in his contract. If something happens, he needs to be secure. If there are any special needs he has, we will make sure to provide and help but it all needs to be written out in his contract first. We’ll have to check what laws are relevant for us and align ourselves with it. Until Jimin signs the new contract, I will make sure there will be as little pressure on him as possible. I want him to feel like nothing has changed, like he doesn’t have to feel bad or judged for what happens.”

“What if he shifts again and I’m not there, hyung? Or Suga-hyung? What if he’s left with the maknaes? They should know.”

Sihyuk swivels in his chair and stares at the window for a good minute before answering. Namjoon can hear the fish tank’s soft whirring. He wonders if one day, all this will be the next chapter in a film for Army. Or part of a song. Something to brag about. Because right now, it doesn’t feel that way - not glorious, not beautiful and definitely not comfortable. Sihyuk’s voice sounds quiet, as if he’s had to dig deep for his next words and hasn’t returned from the depths yet. 

 “You don’t know this because I never told you, Namjoon. But when our Park Jimin signed with us, his parents had one major condition. At first, I thought it would be about money, free time, or maybe dating. Actually, they asked me to sign a confidentiality agreement between me and them. I promised to never tell anyone including Jimin that he was a shifter, to treat him normally and to ensure that he would receive his medication - suppressants.”

“Hyung.”

Namjoon feels like someone has punched him in the gut. He can’t breathe somehow, but it’s like he doesn’t want to either. He never thought Sihyuk would do something like this. It’s so wrong, he doesn’t even know what to say. One look into Sihyuk’s eyes, however, makes Namjoon’s tumbling sea still. Sihyuk knows how wrong it is, to keep such a huge secret from Jimin, to restrict his personal… worldview like this. And he regrets it. Deeply.

“So you knew from the beginning. Did you never think that we deserved to know?”

“I wanted to tell you so bad, especially you, Namjoon. At least the leader should know, right? But that was the condition: I don’t talk. His parents said that there are traditions that needed to be followed and kept in their culture and I believed them and wanted to respect that. I wanted to keep my word.”

“But… Jimin’s parents didn’t tell him either, did they? He doesn’t know anything at all.”

“I believe so, yes.”

Namjoon sighs. That’s - crazy.

“We’ve always made sure Jimin received everything he needed to be in top condition as a normal human being. We constantly supervise his health as we do with all of you. Based on that, I kind of expected his body to build a resistance to the suppressants someday. It took a while until we had adjusted them well - do you remember when he lost so much weight?”

“That was because of the suppressants?”

“I almost canceled that stupid contract back then. Jimin shouldn’t have had to suffer through this - he should have known what was going on with his body, he had every right to.”

“Hyung, that’s horrible-“

“Yeah. He just blames it on that genetic disease his parents say runs in the family.”

“So there’s no genetic disease.”

"I mean, it’s one way to describe your genetic makeup. If you’re trying to suppress it, it probably feels like a disease.”

Namjoon nods. It’s understandable from a logical viewpoint. It’s inexcusable from an emotional one. Namjoon swears to himself that he will never call Jimin’s ability to shift a disease. Even if his parents had used that term to hide their shifter side, Namjoon will never allow anyone to call it that. He wants Jimin to feel like it’s a regular part of his identity, like he doesn’t have to feel bad about it.

“So… will that organization drag us to court? Because we didn’t register Jimin until now?”

“I hope not. I will definitely meet up with them and organize a meeting between all parties. Communication is key, so I’ll do my best to fix this. I apologize for causing such a mess but I still have to ask you to keep quiet about this until it’s all cleared up.”

Namjoon nods. He feels a little burnt out, a little defeated to be honest. How could this all be true? 

“May I leave, PDnim?”

“Of course. Please do put all your expenses for Jimin on my card.”

“Thank you, hyungnim.”

When Namjoon walks out, he hears Sihyuk talking to Sejin.

“Please tell our head of staff to give the cleaning staff a raise.”

masterlist | moodboard masterlist

[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ] tags: @xmagicxshopx, @taeshuworld, @justanemptydream, @hoodmeup, @gingerpeachtae  (wanna join? send me an ask!) ✨

[operationwell]

Reflections on Past Institutionalization

Today was the day that I knew would be coming. The day I would have to face, process, and differentiate between my past experiences in psychiatric facilities, and my future stays. I know that all of this doesn’t necessarily happen in one day, but rest assured - it is happening. 

5 years ago, In April of 2015, I entered a hospital in Schaumburg, IL at around 8pm. My Auntie had heard that this hospital offered free psychiatric evaluations, and we had planned to go and have a simple assessment where they could provide insight into which medications were hurting and which were helping my cause. About 6 weeks prior to this, I had been prescribed Celexa as an antidepressant and it caused my depression and anxiety to skyrocket beyond my control, and I became flooded with suicidal ideation. My doctor (the psychiatrist of every student on psych medications throughout my university) insisted that I remain on the medication for 6 weeks. As my symptoms worsened, he prescribed me Trazodone as a sleeping aid and Klonipen to help with my multiple panic attacks daily. As medications were thrown at me, my health worsened. I struggled with sleep disturbances (insomnia, night terrors, inconsistent sleep schedule), I lost weight (food quickly became unappealing on the medications, I had no appetite, I had difficulty eating as I would become nauseous and vomit during and after consuming food) and my health deteriorated. I stopped going to Yoga and working out multiple times a week because I was no longer functional enough to continue. My grades slipped and I received 3 “incomplete”s in my classes and had to finish my work months later for credit. I dropped my commitments to the Chicago Coalition for the Homeless, alongside many clubs and school groups. I was closeted from my family and all but 2 friends, I had recently broken up with my partner of 3 years. I was in therapy on my college campus, and nothing seemed to be working... so a free psych evaluation sounded like the right thing to do.

That day, I received an award from Loyola University Chicago School of Communications that I was their top student in the Advocacy and Social Change program. Little did the school staff know that within a few hours I would be Baker Acted. I got dressed up and invited my Auntie and 2 friends to the celebration. Like most days when the world feels like it is crumbling, I laughed and smiled and moved through the motions. Saying goodbye to my friends, I packed a weekend bag to head to the suburbs, this was typical seeing that my Auntie is one of my closet friends and mentors, and I frequently “ran away” to her guest room in order to escape my troubles. We agreed to go to dinner with my uncle and cousin, then go for the free evaluation. I pushed food around on a plate and I drank a Shirley Temple with my then 9 year old cousin, Dylan. 

I entered the hospital with Auntie late in the evening. I put in my headphones to listen to Bon Iver because my anxiety was triggered by the hospital environment. I filled out a form that asked two yes/no questions: 

Within the last 24 hours, have you had thoughts of killing yourself? Yes No

If yes, do you have a plan to kill yourself? Yes No

I circled yes for both.

I told myself that dishonesty was not going to get me the help I needed, so I told the truth. After I handed in that questionnaire, my hands were tied. No matter what I said in the clinical evaluation, they would legally have to keep me under the Baker Act. I tried to explain the ways that the medications I was taking were making it worse, how my anxiety and depression were related to trauma, but they were not interested in that. They were interested in protecting me from the threat of myself. The admissions staff informed me that I would be staying for the next few days in the hospital. When I protested and tried to leave, they threatened to call the police. I looked to my Auntie for guidance and she broke down saying “I am so sorry, I wouldn’t have brought you here if I knew they would take you from me”. My auntie is the light of my life and even though this experience was incredibly trying, I am so glad that she was there with me holding my hand and making sarcastic jokes throughout the process. She was, and continues to be, my rock and my safe space. Thank you, Auntie.

I was stripped of my clothes, searched, asked to squat and cough. I was brought into the adult ward with nothing besides the clothes I wore in, and a notebook. I was shocked as I finished the evaluation process - it was now the middle of the night. One of the night staff saw me enter my room and was intrigued because “I don’t look like the other patients in here” to which my response was “what should I look like?” we spoke about religion, and what my goals were; I shared with him my purpose - to bring peace to the world through advocacy, conflict resolution, and vulnerability. He was kind. He very well might have been an angel. But I am convinced he was real. He gave me a gift, and I still have it. A book about hope, religion, and peace. Inside the front cover he wrote “Be at peace and know that you are love”. When he left my room less than 30 mins later, I showered and got into my bed, I slept till the techs woke me to take my blood and I never saw that man again.

The next 72 hours consisted of sharing a room with an older woman who insisted on being naked 24/7 and caused plenty of problems in the ward, attending all-day therapy and coping skill development groups, trying to convince the doctors and nurses I was cured and able to leave, attempting to escape my parents worried calls, being constantly poked and prodded by nursing staff, commiserating with other patients (most of whom were much older than me), and coloring in mandalas and calling it “art therapy”.

During this stay, the psychiatrist kept my diagnosis of depression and anxiety and added “You need to watch out for Bipolar”. He immediately started me on Abilify, an antipsychotic, and after 3 days was convinced the Abilify helped enough to discharge me. I went straight to the pharmacy after my stay and found the medication was $116/ pill. The drug was new, did not have a generic at the time, and I could not afford that, so I discontinued the use of the medication. 

By this time, I am deeply concerning my parents and they have bought me a one way flight to South Florida for the summer after my sophomore year. I was planning on working at Boston College for the summer and spending my entire junior year abroad in the Philippines and Vietnam, but the international travel was not brought to fruition. My parents were hurt by my secrecy, terrified, and looking to help alleviate some of my suffering. They helped me to get to a psychiatrist that might be able to help with the medication situation, and he did. I was put on Zyrexa, an antipsychotic, and the next day the sun came out. I stayed on the medication for over 4 years, but it caused grueling side effects including excessive sleeping, sedation, mixed mood episodes, and extreme weight gain to name a few.

After I was institutionalized, I told myself that I would try whatever I could to avoid the trauma, the expense, and the repetition of my experience in the ward. I felt that while I was held there, I was a prisoner, I had no rights, I had no resources, and I had a one person support system. I never wanted to go back.

Now, I am in very different shoes. I have knowledge and information. I have an entire degree dedicated to better understanding mental health and the system, I have years of experience working clinically in the field, and I have an incredible support system. I am currently seeking treatment to titrate off all unnecessary medications, to stabilize my mental and physical health, and to work intensively with clinicians on sustainable coping mechanisms. This is not like before. 

Today I spent most of the day crying and wondering how I could possibly face being stripped of my agency and belongings again, being isolated from my supports again, and being forced to take medications without consent again. The answer that I found in my tears is that I don’t have to face that again. This new situation of seeking residential treatment is dredging up emotions and memories from my experience 5 years ago; but this is different. I am afraid, and I am allowing myself the grace to feel that fear and tend to it. As I care for myself I am also caring for my younger self, my self at 19, and at any other age when I felt alone, afraid, and out of options. Once I have done my tending, I am able to open my eyes and see that in the here and now I am surrounded by support, I am brave, and I am patient with my options. 

I am surrounded by love. I am love. I am at peace.

Here is something I created in 2015 while in the psych ward. All text is quotes of staff and peers during my 3 day stay.

[foreverlogical]

Trump Is Encouraging Aides to Break the Law So He Can Win Reelection

Disagreements about what the law really means are unavoidable. Congress passes laws, government agencies interpret them, advocates dispute those interpretations, and then the courts step in to resolve the arguments.

But that’s not what’s happening with President Trump’s latest push on his border wall. The Washington Post reports that Trump is frantically urging aides to get construction on his border wall underway, overriding their objections that this might require breaking environmental laws, violating contracting rules, or improperly claiming private land. Why? Not because he believes his wall is necessary for national security. Not because he believes he is right about the law, and his aides’ concerns are misplaced. He doesn’t even believe the wall will actually solve an immigration crisis. Trump is urging action on the wall because he believes it is necessary for him to win reelection.

The tell here is that, as the Post reports, Trump “has told worried subordinates that he will pardon them of any potential wrongdoing should they have to break laws to get the barriers built quickly, those officials said.”

[David A. Graham: Trump can’t figure out how to keep his biggest promise.]

This is one of the biggest scandals of the Trump administration—no small feat. Trump is demanding the government move heaven and (literally) earth, break laws, and spend billions of taxpayer dollars, for a project that he acknowledges is largely symbolic—all for the purpose of bolstering his reelection bid. All presidents work to keep campaign promises, of course, but most don’t do so at the expense of the rule of law.

Running for office, Trump said he would build a wall and Mexico would pay for it, a claim he quickly abandoned. When Congress repeatedly refused to give him money for the wall, he mounted an end-run around Congress, declaring a national emergency. Because Congress has unwisely delegated some of its powers to the president through the National Emergencies Act, he may succeed in defeating legal challenges, since courts tend to give the executive wide latitude to determine what is and isn’t a national emergency.

But Trump keeps undermining the legal rationale for his action. As the Post reports:

Trump conceded last year in an immigration meeting with lawmakers that a wall or barrier is not the most effective mechanism to curb illegal immigration, recognizing it would accomplish less than a major expansion of U.S. enforcement powers and deportation authority. But he told lawmakers that his supporters want a wall and that he has to deliver it.

Other Trump moves also show how unseriously he treats the idea that the wall is a necessary response to a national emergency, and not an enormously expensive campaign prop. He has repeatedly overruled suggestions made by officials because he wants the wall to look a certain way. Trump insists that the wall be painted black and be topped with spikes, even though this will add to the expense, reducing the number of miles that current funds can be used to build. And although the Department of Homeland Security favors including flat panels that can deter climbers, Trump thinks they look too ugly.

This is part of a pattern: Trump declares some far-fetched objective. Administration lawyers concoct a tortured legal rationale to justify it. And then Trump makes clear how pretextual that rationale is. Perhaps the first example was the president’s Muslim ban, but the pattern has repeated itself ever since.

The dangled pardons are especially galling because they underscore how Trump prioritizes winning reelection at any cost over actually following the laws he swore to uphold in his oath of office. Asked about the pardon suggestion by the Post, a White House aide didn’t deny it, but “said Trump is joking when he makes such statements about pardons.”

[David A. Graham: A single scandal sums up all of Trump’s failures.]

Well, maybe. The Trump administration has a long record of making outrageous statements and then insisting after the fact that they were only kidding. Beyond that, the president has already on at least one occasion promised a pardon to a Customs and Border Patrol official if he was convicted of a crime, and he has also demonstrated his willingness to hand out politically motivated, manifestly undeserved pardons.

Pushing hard to build a border wall carries other dangers for Trump. Though he has had great success in reorienting the Republican Party around some of his other priorities, especially trade, eminent domain remains a controversial and widely disliked maneuver that could alienate conservatives along the border. But the president may be right that actually building the wall is crucial for his reelection effort, and his failure to actually build a single mile of new fencing—as opposed to upgrading current barriers—is a huge political problem for him.  (Even the hurry-up effort described in the Post is relatively insignificant: Only 110 of the 450 miles officials say they’ll finish by Election Day 2020 are new, while the rest replaces existing fencing.)

Trump is not the first president willing to knowingly break the law to win reelection. He is, however, unusually open about it. If the wall gambit works, it will reinforce the idea that lawbreaking is an effective campaign tactic, and that politics comes before fidelity to the Constitution.

The real threat to the national security of the United States isn’t on the southern side of the Mexican border.

VISIT WEBSITE

[bunjywunjy]

DON’T FEAR THE REAPER

it’s officially the end of the week and boy howdy it’s time for a new Weird Biology article. this week’s subject is a sharp Indiana Jones tribute with a permanently adorable expression of existential dread. 

I just want to pat it on the dorsal fin and tell it everything is gonna be okay, it’s the-

DID I LEAVE THE OVEN ON

the Bigeye Thresher Shark is a mediumish shark that can grow up to 13 feet long, fully half of which is taken up by its ridiculous sickle-shaped tail. that’s like, almost 7 feet of tail alone. jesus. it’s like if when God was handing out tails to animalkind, the Thresher Shark kept sneaking back into line and no one noticed.

these sharks usually weigh in at about 350 pounds, putting them firmly in the “do not wrestle this animal for any reason” category. (most modern sharks are in this category! except for the Wobbegong. go ahead, fight a Wobbegong. it probably deserves it.)

but the Bigeye Thresher Shark does not. please be kind, he is frightened!

Bigeye Thresher Sharks are sleek, vaguely torpedo shaped, and bright metallic purple. it’s like a pool toy came to life and decided to try an existence that didn’t involve being gnawed on by toddlers.

but seriously, Bigeye Thresher Sharks are held as some of the most beautiful of all sharks! (though all sharks are beautiful on the inside.) while they’re alive, anyway. the second a Bigeye Thresher Shark expires, its bright colors fade to a dull lifeless grey. like Optimus Prime in that one movie that ruined your childhood. you know the one I’m talking about.

scientists still aren’t sure why this graying-out occurs, but theories include that it’s because these sharks are a bunch of fucking divas.

or they just don’t want people to use them for a 101 Bigeye Threshers sharkskin coat, which is understandable.

Bigeye Thresher Sharks are found in tropical and temperate waters around the world, even the Mediterranean Sea! they avoid shallow coastal waters and their throngs of tourists, sticking to the open ocean. this is important because Bigeye Threshers do a lot of deep diving, even for a shark. (or maybe they just really hate tourists.)

the Bigeye Thresher Sharks spend their nights close to the surface, swimming around dreaming little shark dreams. but when the sun rises, they dive over 1,500 feet down into the water column to hunt. I guess even sharks have a morning commute.

no coffee for sharks, though.

aside from the massive farm-equipment tail, Bigeye Thresher Sharks are noted for the gigantic anime eyeballs which gave them their name. and it’s no joke- these honkin big look-spheres can be nearly four inches across! THAT’S RIDICULOUS. 

the Bigeye Thresher Shark uses these big ol’ peepers to spot prey in the dark depths of the ocean. the squid think they can hide, but they cannot. the Bigeye Thresher Shark is an accurate and devastating hunter who can chase down fish, squid, smaller sharks, and fucking seabirds with speed and precision. 

it’s a trade off for the whole Battle Angel Alita look.

but I’ve saved the best for last! it’s time to finally disclose what that ridiculous tail is for, and why it deserves a Grim Reaper reference. well, it’s very simple- that super-long tail is basically a biological bullwhip. 

and maybe that doesn’t sound so threatening! but in this case, the Bigeye Thresher Shark cracks its tail like a whip towards a school of fish hard enough to cause a fucking underwater shockwave, which basically liquifies any small animals unlucky enough to be in the way. it completely fucking obliterates those poor fish, who never asked for this and probably have families.

it takes “shooting fish in a barrel” to a whole new level, that’s for damn sure.

after commiting mass fish homicide with its overpowered nuke of a tail, the Bigeye Thresher Shark is free to scoot around and vacuum up the dead and dying fish. success! this strategy is so effective that there are even stories of Bigeye Thresher Sharks using it against birds. no word on whether this is true or not, but I mean, it sounds like it COULD be. (and they do actually eat birds! so.)

it’s easy to see why the shark puts up with having a stupidly long and unwieldly tail; the AoE attack makes it MORE than worth it. 

it’s their up B special.

it’s because of this attack style that Bigeye Thresher Sharks are so widespread. but unfortunately, these incredible sharks actually do have a reason for making that terrified face: they’re under threat from human activity and listed as Vulnerable.

Bigeye Thresher Sharks are often caught accidentally or even on purpose by longlines, even though they pose no threat to humans. (except looking really weird, anyway.) these thresh princes of the sea need legal protections, and they need it soon. what other sea animal are we going to make Indiana Jones jokes about? sea cucumbers? come on.

THROW ME THE IDOL, I’LL MURDER A BUNCH OF FISH WITH THE WHIP.

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thanks for reading! you can find the rest of the Weird Biology series here.

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IMAGE SOURCES

img1- FisheriesAquaculture, Twitter img2- Gray FishTag Research img3- Pelagic Shark Research Foundation img4- BBC img5- Defenders Of Wildlife Blog img6- Adventure Sports Network img7- Majadi Wall img8- yandex.ru