Can you believe I have known you for 7 years… I remember when I met you for the first time. I’m surprised and amazed that the one who used to look so upright and kind… has become very bright and cheerful these days. I believe it’s because you’re with us. It seems like just yesterday you were nervous and not confident when you had to sing and perform on stage, but seeing your performance these days makes me think you sing really well. It’s no doubt the result of working hard for a long time. Even though I have been watching you for a long time, it still touched me how you secretly work hard to make up what you lack in. I thought of you as a hyung whom I have a lot to learn from. Let’s keep going together for a long time in the future too.
P.S: But I hope you can act your age.”
SEOKJIN → JUNGKOOK
Hi JK, it’s hyung.
I’m always thankful to you. Thanks for having the same mental age as this 26-year-old hyung. And traveling with you this time made me feel this once again. Your fists are really strong. I will be good to you, don’t hit me, got it? And your face got tanned a lot. As I’m your hyung I’ll give you facial masks when we get back to Korea. Calm your skin and yourself as well, stop lying on my bed. You keep lying on my bed when I’m not there and send me your selfies. If you do that one more time, your face may have got tanned in Hawaii, but I’ll throw you into the fire pit in Korea. And by “fire pit” I mean my firey heart. You can come into my big embrace. Thanks for always becoming our team’s teacher and energizer. To Jungkook who’s kind and handsome and strong and has nice body and big eyes and sings well and dances well, I love you.”
JUNGKOOK → NAMJOON
Hi hyung, it’s our team’s maknae, Jungkook.
I’m not the type to write letters often so I don’t know where to start, but I’ll try this time. This is something I always think about every day, but I really am inspired a lot by our team. Although I’m inspired by all 7 members, but I’m especially inspired the most by you. I always want to do a lot of things but can’t stick to them long, like how you guys always joke with me. But gradually, it feels like I really became that kind of person. When you work, talk about music, compose or speak in English, I feel like I grew a sense of confidence and passion. I know it must be tired for you, but please keep showing me your that cool side of yours in the future. I will keep following you from behind. You are a really awesome person.”
TAEHYUNG → JIMIN
It cringes me a little to write a serious letter to you like this, but I’ll try. Hope you understand. When we were trainees, we came to Seoul without knowing anything. We would wake up, put on uniforms, go to school together, eating together after school ends, go to the practice room together, go back to the dorm together, and chat together at night. 6 years passed and unknowingly, you have become my dearest precious friend. There was a time before we debuted when you were anxious because of the debut. I had a meeting with the company at that time. They asked me “What would it be if Jimin was on the team?”. After thinking for a while, I said, “There’s no one who’s by my side when I’m tired or happy to laugh and cry with me but Jimin. I hope such a friend could be by my side. I want us to debut together.” It felt good to say that. I’m happy that we was able debut together and make lots of good memories. And sorry, because I’m always the one who take. Even know, you still cry with me when I cry in the bathroom, laugh with me when we sneak out at dawn, care about me and think of me, work hard because of me and understand me, listen to my worries, liking someone who’s lacking so much like me. Let’s keep walking together on the flower path for a long time. I love you, my friend.”
NAMJOON → TAEHYUNG
So my first letter is to you. I have mixed emotions. Like the pebbles on the beach we saw in Hawaii, it’s hard to pick out what I want to say to you. Maybe it’s because we’re cherishing so many memories and so many moments like the sea we saw? I thought of the time when I first met you. Seeing you following your father, roaming around the dorm with big eyes and pouty lips, I already felt it from first sight. “This kid will be a rascal”. I remember how anxious you were before we debuted. Your unique and strange character is so vague that I sometimes questioned what’s in you that helped you endure all the way here. But as time passes and I mature more, I learned that even I, who I myself thought was the most normal, am quite strange and unique like an alien. I was drawn by your strangeness. Sometimes I really envy you. Because you can get close easily to anyone and everyone likes you. Your strangeness proved to be your unique charm. It may sound cringeworthy, but as a friend, a hyung who have been with you from the beginning of your trainee journey to now, I wanted to say thank you to you. Thank you for not becoming a farmer, not playing saxophone and came to Big Hit instead. Let’s keep up the good work. Fighting.”
HOSEOK → YOONGI
“To. My bro Suga From. J-hope
Hi hyung? It’s Hoseok.
Without realizing, we have been together for 7 years, including our trainee days. When I first moved to the dorm, I was awkward and unfamiliar with everything, so I only stayed in the living room, but you came and talk to me first, helped me relax. I still can’t forget that time. You were like the savior to me, a Gwangju kid. Always by my side when I’m hurt, always by my side when I’m sad. You’re always there to support me and become my strength when I’m tired or exhausted. When I was tired from seasickness in Bon Voyage 2 this time, the first one I saw after opening my eyes was you. I couldn’t say then but I was really grateful to you. Through this letter and this chance, I want to tell you again that my gratitude to you is as great as the time we spent together. Hyung, thank you for becoming a member of BTS, thank you for becoming my dependable brother. Please keep staying by my side forever. I love my bro.”
JIMIN → HOSEOK
This wasn’t my first letter to you so I thought it wouldn’t be hard, but it was indeed not easy. I’m nervous. You’re the one whom I talk and share a lot with so think you’ll know well what I think and what I want to say. What do I think when I see you? “This person is really truthful and sincere”, “This person is really upright and kind”. You are probably the first one that made me understand a person can become this cool just by being truthful and sincere. As your brother and fellow member, I have a lot to learn from you. I wanted to tell you that I know you are always working hard to take care of us and I’m always sincerely thankful to you. Thank you, hyung. I hope you can take care of your body and stop worrying too much. To my hyung who I’m always thankful for, I love you.”
Basically, This is Basically What Every Dr. Phil Episode is Basically Like Basically
Hello, I am Doctor Philip, and today we'll be tackling an issue that is very widespread, but rarely spoken about. Gaming addiction. Now, I know many of you know at least one person in your life who plays video games, whether that be a child or, in some cases, a spouse.
But, when unregulated, gaming can lead to serious addiction. Today I have with me a mother who's home life has been torn apart as her very own son descended into gaming addiction.
*sniffing and wiping tears away* Hello, doctor. Will you cure my son?
Well, dear, that's... uhh. Let's just bring the boy out already.
*dramatic music plays*
My name is Gregg, I'm 19 years old, I'm a gaming addict, and I don't give a f*ck.
Yeah, I game for 19 to 20 hours a day and the other four hours I use for looking up sick gaming strats or beating it to anime porn. I once sucked off a dude because he offered me minecraft diamonds. I don't give a sh*t, I would've sucked him off even if he didn't have the diamonds.
Do I hate women? Yes, I hate women. I've emailed Anita Sarkeesian my address. She knows where I am if she wants to fight me. Feminists, square the fuck up. People always ask why I don't do anything other than gaming. I ask them why don't they mind their own f*cking business. I don't think I have a problem. Dr. Phil can honestly eat my whole an*s.
*walks out onto the stage*
F*ck all y'all! I don't give a f*ck! *flips off the audience*
Please take a seat, son.
*sits very disrespectfully*
Son, do you think that was acceptable behavior?
The only behavior I care about is the behavioral patterns for enemies in the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. series. I love video games: Master chief, Mario, uhm, Blinx the Cat... Blasto. Love those guys!
I don't care! You think I care! F*ck all y'all!
All these people are booing you, doesn't that make you feel bad?
Are you deaf? Have I not articulated the fact that I absolutely 100% do not care about anything except for video games? I. DON'T. GIVE. A. F*CK.
He's always like this, there's no changing him. It didn't used to be this way... just *starts bawling harder*
I think there is a way to change him, and we'll find out more about that after these messages.
*Dr. Phil theme plays*
*The lights dim and every goes empty eyed and slack-jawed*
Heh, this is weird. *nudges mom and whispers to her* Hey, we're getting paid for this, right. Hey, mom? ...Mom?
Heh... this is REALLY weird. *looks around nervously*
I'm in the audience! Over here! My arms are strapped to the chair! You have to help me!
*runs to the audience member*
Thank god, I thought I was the only one here left with any brains.
*hastily undoing the straps* What the fuck is going on?
I don't know, but this definitely isn't Dr. Phil's show.
Then what is it?
No clue, but we have to get out of here before the commercial breaks ends.
*successfully undoes the straps*
C'mon! Let's go. *grabs the gamer by the arm*
*resists* Wait a fucking minute. Why am I supposed to trust you?
Because I'm normal and everyone else is braindead if you haven't noticed.
Yeah, but I'm not going anywhere until I know what's going on. Being on Dr. Phil is a huge opportunity for me to, y'know, advertise my brand. I'm a gamer if you haven't noticed.
Are you insane? Have you had a look around you? Does this anything happening right now seem normal to you? Who cares about your "brand". Do you even remember how you got here?
Well... now that you mention, I can't really remember exactly.
Yeah, now let's get the fuck out of here.
*the gamer and audience member run through the back exit into the hallways*
*the Dr. Phil theme blares as the show returns from commercial break*
Move it! *jerks gamer's arm*
Okay, calm down.
*the entire audience screams in unison*
What the fuck is that!?
It's the reason we're running! Quick, in here!
*the duo duck into a cramped broom closest*
Listen, you have to tell me what the fuck is going on right now!
Don't shush me!
*covers the gamer's mouth*
*agonized screaming and violently rumbling passes by the broom closest*
How can I not yell when it sounds the gates of hell just passed by us!
You want it to turn back around and find us?
Please, please stop crying. You're too loud.
I can't! I'm under a lot of stress!
You'll be dead if you don't shut the fuck.
I never wanted any of this, I just wanted to go on Dr. Phil so people would recognize me on YouTube and I could become a popular Let's Player!
If you don't shut up right now, I'll-
*a snake bites the audience member's neck*
*eyes roll up*
*screams like a baby*
*snakes slither under the closet door*
*stumbles out of the closet and falls into hallway covered with snakes* Fuck me! Fuck me!
*attempts to run away but falls beneath the snakes and into and empty void*
*agonized screaming echoes from all around*
Am I in hell? I have to be in hell. You don't fall through a pool of snakes and wind up anywhere else but hell.
THERE IS NO HELL.
Doc, is that you? If this isn't hell then where am I?
YOU'RE IN MY REALM SON. *Dr. Phil's face appears glowing in the distance, his eyes are empty sockets and his mouth hangs open*
What the fuck are you?
I'M DOCTOR PHILIP.
You're not Dr. Phil!
I NEVER SAID I WAS, SON. *a wall of gray human bodies lights up surrounding Dr. Phil's massive head, dr. phil's giant snake body slithers towards the gamer and opens its third eye* I'M DOCTOR PHILIP.
*the wall of bodies screams in unison as Dr. Phil devours the gamer*
*Dr. Phil theme plays loudly*
THE NEXT EPISODE IS STARTING. I'M LATE. *slithers into the wall of bodies and his snake body slowly transforms into a normal Dr. Phil's body*
*crawls onto the stage*
*dusts himself off* Woo, I went on quite an adventure.
I'm glad we can all find some time in our lives to laugh, but today's episode is covering something that is most certainly not a laughing matter. It's one of the most serious addictions striking America today and it's rarely talked about. I'm talking about people who love to pee on their mattresses and then pay people exorbitant amounts of money to suck their disgusting mattresses clean.
... *someone clears their throat*
What's the matter?
Spsss, Doc. That's not what the episode is about. It's about people with terrible gambling issues.
omg i got so excited at it i can’t even….. ugh. not only because i got an another request but also because this is an amazing idea and i’m in love with this, i think i need to change some things that were a little unclear to me but i hope you will like it anyway
sorry if it’s too short to your liking, & please let me know what you think REQUESTS ARE O P E N
[Y/N] was a pretty 15 year old girl, who liked spending her free time in her dad’s work. Jim Gordon’s work. She’d go there everyday after school.
She wanted to work at the GCPD in the future, not as a cop, but as a doctor, just like Doctor Leslie Thompkins. [Y/N] was a very smart girl, so everybody believed she would accomplish her goal.
[Y/N] enjoyed being with Doctor Lee, and as you may wonder, Doctor Lee enjoyed being with [Y/N]. She reminded her of herself when she was younger, so she was happy to answer any questions this sweet girl had.
“Harvey! Do you know where Doctor Thompkins is?"
[Y/N]’s been looking for her, she wanted to watch her work, as always. At first she wasn’t sure if that’s okay with her but she said she enjoys her company, much to [Y/N]’s joy.
"I don’t know, kiddo, check the morgue.” Answered busy Harvey Dent petting her on the head and walking away.
[Y/N] was walking to the morgue as she heard two cops talking about Jerome Valeska. They didn’t have a chance to meet but she saw him, that day when they found his dead mother. Dead because of him.
His cult was trying to bring him back from the dead…
“Can you believe he’s lying in the morgue right now with no face on?!”
“Shut up, this is disgusting.”
[Y/N] could agree on that. It seriously gave her chills.
But still, it didn’t change the fact she wanted to see how he looked now. She would never admit it to anyone, but she thought he was kinda cute. When he had a face and was still breathing, though.
[Y/N] entered the room humming a song she always does.
“Doctor Le–” she stopped dead in her tracks.
Before her, Lee Thompkins sitting on a table, tied up, looking over her should to see who just came in, worry filled her eyes as she noticed it’s [Y/N]. And there it was Jerome Valeska, standing across from Doctor Lee, his face all bloody and bandaged smiling widely at [Y/N]. He was wearing something very skin-tight…
“Hi there. Care to join us, Sweetheart?” Jerome walked towards her.
Now as he took a better look at her, he noticed she looked younger than him.
“Don’t cha a little too young to work here?”
[Y/N] only shrugged and gulped as he started to tie her up and told her to sit beside Lee.
They looked at each other, Lee’s gaze looked like it was asking her “Why did you have to come here exactly right now?!”
Jerome not interested in Lee anymore, moved to kneel before the pretty girl and looked into her eyes.
“Do you know where is my face, Precious?”
She stared at him. “Yeah… I heard Dwight took it and that he wears it like a mask..” She made a disgusted face.
Jerome exhaled deeply. “At least he’s a handsome fella now.”
[Y/N] cracked a small smile trying not to giggle. She didn’t want Doctor Lee to think she’s stupid.
Jerome glanced back at Lee and then back to [Y/N] and cupped her cheek.
“Now tell me, what exactly are you doing here? You can’t possibly be working here, you look young. How old are you anyway, Sweet Cheeks?”
“Umm..” She was unsure if she should tell him but he had something in his eyes that screamed “tell me all about you!”
“I don’t work here, I’m 15 years old. My dad is working here.”
“Don’t tell him that [Y/N]!”
“[Y/N]? Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He smirked and reached for something to gag Doctor Lee. “Who’s your dad? I’m dying to know.”
He started laughing like crazy. “James Gordon! I can’t believe it! And Doctor here is still talking to you after what your father has done to her poor husband?” He burst in another laugh.
[Y/N] wanted to defend her dad but she knew there was no point.
“Ohhh you’re coming with me, Gorgeous! You’re too fun to be left here!” He started to untie her.
And she left with him. Just like that.
Doctor Lee waited for someone to rescue her, they needed to find [Y/N]. They needed to find Jerome.
But she could’t stop thinking about that one thing that was still disturbing her.
The adoration in young girl’s eyes when she looked at the Ginger.
for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a
princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her
visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother
carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her
back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call
her princess maleen.
then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined
to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a
different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go,
and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids
look after her now.
the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and
maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a
life she can now only watch unfold.
the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the
blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to
clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.
they call her maid maleen.
the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter.
they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to
show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right
and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one
or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as
unfortunate products of a lovely union.
maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the
time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has
never used face powder or lip color.
maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most
beautiful woman in the kingdom.
her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she
lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks
to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that
same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving
her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a
princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious
smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.
no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more
like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in
ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.
maid maleen is the king’s daughter.
she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was
one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she
likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she
likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has
fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when
she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be
hers to inherit.
but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a
little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping
alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she
was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.
tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the
neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over
patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset
about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is
abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming
over to talk with the king to do it.
maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any
rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of
pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she
wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may
not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their
company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps
why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at
least won’t fawn over him.
“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and
giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is
there anything you require?”
silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before
she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses
and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”
her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up
at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her
skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a
his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a
slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently
doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years
older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he
remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.
“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he
will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help
me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”
she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before,
ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she
brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of
the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through
and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off
she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling
fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing.
she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers.
she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.
“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s
stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at
her like no one’s ever looked at her before.
“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she
places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the
weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.
wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long
meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting
out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s
made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers
that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re
debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a
sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the
prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his
weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands
and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a
state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,”
she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”
“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s
always looked at her before.
“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is
already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.
he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope
and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”
she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”
“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her
back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father
sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects
me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he
will allow me to marry you instead!”
“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on
bended knee and she freezes.
he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic,
she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was
willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is,
but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”
she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been
planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells
him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”
he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of
her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”
wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen
to her birthright and allow her to marry him.
it goes even worse than maleen had feared.
her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this
request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he,
that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her
into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams
but no one comes for her.
there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal
grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of
steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room
contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.
once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she
has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more,
she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of
ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope
entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself
slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this
one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first
time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing
there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean,
maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another
person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find
her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t
have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”
gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great
beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?”
she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting
staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.
“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.”
maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her?
their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to
fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”
she stares, “what?”
“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the
tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could
justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between
our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he
does not want to marry me.”
“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the
girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.
they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time
she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and
instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like
a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be
wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must
be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s
a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting
for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils
you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”
“why are you doing this?” she asks.
gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i
want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy
too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in
wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”
maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the
only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus
trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”
she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and
rides for the palace of the neighboring land.
she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the
night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s
door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate
trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water
waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her
the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to
expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to
leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”
“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing
and wraps herself in a soft blanket.
“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she
will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all
will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on
he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and
maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know
what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.
“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should
look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”
she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”
“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the
hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and
who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve
missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their
little maid maleen.
it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in
mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have
looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by
white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one
will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.
wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going
to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not
to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and
freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep
it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few
minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing
about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so
none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look,
but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is
out of place.
“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what
seems like an eternity.
wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her
soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and
shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break
apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”
he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at
all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”
Can someone help me understand the Ace Spectrum, please? I'm trying to make sense of... things and I'm so confused I don't know what to do.
So, the place where I think most of us get confused on our ace identity journey is with separating out types of attraction, and also separating out attraction from sex drive. So let’s talk about those two things:
There are many kinds of attraction, but we’re going to talk about these: sexual, romantic, aesthetic, and sensual. The idea of the split attraction model is that you don’t have to be attracted to someone in more than one of the ways above at the same time to still experience real and powerful attraction of a specific kind. For most allosexual (non-ace spectrum) folks, they tend to experience all four modes of attraction at the same time, and in particular sexual, aesthetic, and sensual attraction are so deeply tied together that they may not realize they’re actually three separate things. In ace folks, those modes of attraction are often not experienced at the same time, and one of them (sexual attraction) may not ever be experienced at all.
Romantic attraction is, well, someone you’re romantically attracted to. You want to spend your time with them, you think about them when they’re gone, they inspire poetry in you, etc etc.
Sexual attraction is basically when you see a person and think, Wow, I’d hit that. This is the kind of attraction people on the ace spectrum either don’t experience at all or don’t experience as often/broadly as allosexual folks, so we’ll come back to this one in a bit.
Aesthetic attraction is when something hits you just right in the beauty department and you want to look at it for a while. In my own personal experience with both myself and my ace friends, this type of attraction is often (but by all means not always or in everyone) hyper-powered in aces. I’m ace, and lemme tell you, there are people I could stare at forever. But I have never once in my entire life looked at one of those people and thought Wow I’d climb them like a tree. Just never happened, probably never will, because I don’t actually experience sexual attraction.
This particular kind of attraction often trips up people who are struggling to understand asexuality, to which I’d suggest this amazing example I’ve seen floating round the interwebs: You ever go out hiking, and you come to the top of a mountain and you see this breathtaking view of other mountains and valleys stretched out for miles before you, and it’s so incredibly beautiful that you just sit right down and stare at it for a while, and maybe you decide to take an early lunch so you can enjoy the view some more because it’s that lovely. But do you at any point want to bang the mountains? No, you do not. (I mean, if you do, we’re not judging, but let’s assume for most folks the answer is no :-p) And that is the difference between aesthetic and sexual attraction.
Sensual attraction is when you see a person and want to touch or hug or cuddle them in a non-sexual way. Some aces don’t experience this at all. Others experience it quite a lot. Still others experience it somewhere in the middle. For some aces it’s tied exclusively to romantic attraction. For others it’s tied to affection in general (familial, platonic, romantic, etc.). For others, it’s tied to aesthetic attraction. There are all kinds of reasons you might experience sensual attraction, but it’s important to remember that it doesn’t have to be tied to sexual attraction in any way.
So, that’s the split attraction model. To make a personal example, I experience aesthetic attraction roughly every 0.4 seconds, romantic and sensual attraction very rarely (and not always together), and sexual attraction literally never (I’m all the way on the far end of the ace spectrum). And my aesthetic attractions don’t necessarily line up with my romantic or sensual attractions, and vice versa. But aces are many and varied and beautiful, and everyone’s going to experience these attractions differently.
The other thing I wanted to talk about is how sexual attraction =/= sex drive. Folks struggling to identify on the ace spectrum often think they’re not “allowed” to be ace because they masturbate, or they watch porn, or they’re experiencing sexual attraction to their current partner. But here’s the thing: all of those experiences are 100% valid and do not make you any less ace.
First, remember that asexuality, like all sexualities, is a spectrum. So you may be all the way on one end of the spectrum like me (never experiences sexual attraction under any circumstance), or you may be demisexual (only experiences sexual attraction with someone to whom you’ve formed a deep emotional relationship) gray ace (only experiences sexual attraction rarely, for reasons that may or may not involve emotional connection). Both of those orientations are valid asexual identities that involve sexual attraction, and experiencing sexual attraction in those ways does not invalidate your identity on the ace spectrum.
Second, it’s important to remember that sex drive doesn’t actually have to be tied in any way to sexual attraction. Think about the human body like a machine. Just because you’re ace doesn’t mean the pipes don’t still work, you know? You can still experience arousal, you can still enjoy orgasm, you can still enjoy porn, you can even still enjoy sex with other people. None of those things means you experience sexual attraction to the person(s) you’re watching or with. Many aces have extremely active sex drives. Many aces have robust solo sex lives. Many aces read or watch porn to get off (check out autochorissexual; it’s an identity many aces feel at home with, including me). And there are endless valid reasons why an ace person might have sex with someone (you want the emotional intimacy, you’re horny, it makes your partner happy and you don’t mind it at all, you’re wildly in love and want to express it physically, you’re sensually attracted and want the physical closeness, you want to get/get someone pregnant, it just plain feels good, etc. etc. etc.), not one of which need involve sexual attraction to the person you’re sleeping with. Of course, if you’re gray ace or demisexual, you may very well experience a deep sexual attraction to the person you’re with. The point is, aces can and do have sex drives, masturbate, watch porn, and have sex with other people. Although I feel it’s also important to point out here that it’s perfectly okay not to do any of these things; some aces are sex repulsed and/or touch-averse and that is 100% valid too.
Okay so this answer is getting crazy long now, and I feel like I’ve covered the general bases, so I’m going to wrap up. But if you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to ask! Half the staff here is ace and we’re always happy to talk about it, either in broad strokes or via our own personal experiences.
Shouldn’t Evan have more than a broken arm?? Didn’t he fall from 30ft Oak tree??SHOULD BE severely injured. Even with cushioning from bushes etc. And he had to be bound to hit branches on the way down..
(I mean a fall from 48ft is a 50% chance of survival. Their is a chance he was going to live)
Plus he probably wasn’t going for survival (since he let go) and didn’t care for the proper way to land if you fall from a high height.
He couldn’t have only suffred from a broken arm. He should have either
Broken completely a either
Clean break or uneven break of both arms or one.
With Dislocated shoulder even tore a tendon (possibly)
A severe concussion (possibility)
If he did hit his head he should’ve been knocked out for a while.
And if he landed and hit the back of his head hard enough, he might have vision issues and or be temporally blind, or just vision issues.
Hip injuries or Back issues.
I mean he is a skinny teen so he is bound to have a easier time to break bones or at least damage them. Plus get severe bruising.
The average rate of a human body falling is
120mph. And that rate and hitting ground?? Man Evan is one lucky son of a gun.
Or he just drinks a lot of milk and foods to help his body get stronger… which as we know eats pizza and take out. (If he’s desperation enough to withstand the awkwardness)
Correct me if I’m wrong in anyway. I’m no doctor obviously.
Please write a short fic about tony catching peter drinking i would die omg
He froze, eyes widening as he heard the all-too-familiar sound of expensive leather brogues scuffing along the floor a few meters from him, and he turned quickly, brow furrowed into a deep V as he watched Tony wander up to him, all smiles and casual posture, hands buried in the pockets of his grease-stained jeans. He looked like he’d come straight from the workshop, stopping only to throw on a leather jacket along the way.
Why he was here at all, however, made no sense at all.
“T- Mr Stark,” Peter said, trying to communicate with him through eyebrow movements alone. If it turned out that he had to suit up and help out somewhere, he was pretty fucked, considering the fact he’d had a bit to drink at the party he’d been invited to.
Well. He said ‘a bit’. It was possibly more accurate to say ‘a fucking shit-ton’, but whatever.
Tony looked at him blankly, before shooting another smile toward the circle of people who were stood around Peter and staring quite blatantly at the both of them. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid I have to take Mr Parker away. He’s an intern at Stark Industries, you know how it is. Lots of work, yadda yadda, okay bye,”
And before Peter could even open his mouth, Tony had grabbed him by the arm and snatched the solo cup out of his hand almost angrily, pulling him away from the group of people and through the crowds of rowdy teenagers that littered the huge house.
“Uh, Mr Stark, wha’dd’ya want me for, exactly?” Peter asked, speaking loudly above the blaring music and wincing at how slurred his voice came out.
It had been a weird month, okay. He was just trying it out.
Tony paused, and Peter saw him purse his lips even tighter before beginning to walk again, guiding Peter through the crowds and holding him tight as he stumbled a little.
“Hey, Parker, leaving so soon?” Flash called out from somewhere to his left, and Peter stopped turning to face him as the other boy wandered toward them. “We haven’t even begun yet, Jesus, are you a pussy or what-”
“Kid,” and suddenly Tony had let go, spinning around and walking up to Flash, who seemed to suddenly recognise who exactly Tony was, because his eyes went hilariously wide and he stumbled backward a few steps. Peter snorted involuntarily, and he saw Tony turn briefly, before shaking his head and looking back to Flash, “it seems like you’re having an absolute ball here, but I’m gonna say something and I’m only going to say it once.”
Tony looked down at Flash, eyes harsh as he drew a little closer. “Leave. Peter. Out of it. Do you understand? He is not here for you to manipulate, not here for you to bully into trying out crazy shit for your amusement-”
“Tony, what the fuck,” Peter blurted, frowning and stepping forward, more than a little put out. He’d only just managed to get accepted by Flash and all the other popular kids, and Tony was just going in, ruining it all, “you’re not my dad- don’t tell me or my friends what I can and can’t do.”
Tony turned, eyebrows raised. “Friends?” He snorted, shaking his head and walking over to Peter once more, taking him by the arm. “You haven’t called in with Aunt May for two days now,” he hissed into Peter’s ear, “she’s worried sick. You are coming with me, right now.”
“No ‘m not,” Peter pushed his hand off, looking over at Tony in anger. “You are fucking….embarrassing me…. in fron’ of my friends-”
“They are not your friends!” Tony snarled, pulling his arm again, “your friends are all currently at home, worrying their asses off because this is not like you, Peter, and they didn’t know what to fucking do, so they ended up calling me. Now you will fucking follow me out of this goddamn place right now, or I am hauling you out.”
Emphasis on the observation part because I’ve never really been good with theories. I have a number of things to do today but unfortunately, I watched this video and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Hopefully this’ll quiet my mind and let me function, and who knows? Maybe it’ll help someone out there with their own theories too. :)
So, let’s talk about this scene:
We got one hell of a group here BUT what I’d like to focus on is their seating arrangement and what that could mean, because if there’s anything I’ve learned in videos like this it’s that EVERYTHING is by design. This entire table scene (props to the Editor btw) has so
much hidden psychological subtext
in it, so while I’m no professional I’ll still do my best to uncover them all.
First off, let’s look at the table: Rectangular with two long ends and two short ones. Pretty normal setting yeah, but is it beneficial to their situation (i.e. finding a way to ‘take control’) where everyone easily agrees? Nope. Because tables like these embody competition and a clear sense of authority, and I love this detail. It means that while they could’ve easily gone for a round table to promote cooperation, they go for this because of course, no one’s going to cooperate that easily.
This setting, however, works better in the business cooperative world, because you got two people (Darkiplier & Wilford) who can control the meeting from both ends of the table and are essentially the people everyone will need to look up to.
Here’s a great detail though: In this kind of setting, the more powerful of the two is usually the one opposite the entrance to the room. This allows him not just a vantage point of whoever comes in and goes, but complete control as well. And as we see where King of the Squirrels pops up:
Which we can easily tell was from the right of the room based on the direction his body and eyes shift to, we can point out where the entrance is and who was right there:
But yeah, in this moment it didn’t seem like Will had control over King’s sudden entrance but let’s face it: he doesn’t care. He already knows that there’s more than one king in that room.
Speaking of, let’s move on to the seating arrangement.
Obviously we got Dark and Will at the ends as the higher ups, but I’d like to talk about Googleplier and The Host.
In medieval times, kings would often have their advisors right at their side at the table. This actually explains the term “right hand man”, because the king would have them close at hand to help him rule, unless of course, he was left-handed. Looking back at Dark’s antics, I have reason to believe that he’s either left-handed or ambidextrous.
Which I guess would make sense, considering that while Ed, Bim, Silver and Dr. Iplier were all concerned about their parts in the video, only Google and The Host were able to keep a level head and not lose sight of their main goal/situation.
Now the last thing I want to talk about is Wilford’s idea for Markiplier TV. I must warn you though because this is going to be a bit of a stretch so stop reading if you’d like BUT… I think he may have been inspired by Anti.
AGAIN, please bear with me. Jack’s mentioned before that Dark and Anti ever meeting each other was very unlikely, which in Dark’s case (being the alter ego that’s been pushed inside the most) could be more than true. However, Wilford makes up for this as he’s the only one not bound by the laws of physics and is, potentially, omnipresent. So it’s possible that he’s aware of Anti (since he was aware of Septiplier after all) and his methods (i.e. using social media to have his fans notice him which then gives him control) BUT, being Wilford, he goes about it in his own roundabout way which is, of course, TELEVISION.
So, yeah, this is all I can come up with. Excluding my attempt in theorizing at the very end I hope this was helpful. Now I’m just hoping that my thoughts on Antisepticeye don’t get too hectic and end up like this long wall of text. Thanks for reading. :)
I’m actually really proud of this one? It’s a bit longer than usual, and it’s very Keith-centric even though I’m whumping Lance because hi have you met me? I’m too invested in klance.I hope you enjoy!
@elsiemcclay aka the best person to run ideas and/or titles by. thanks friendo.
A groan sounded to Keith’s left, and
he looked over immediately, trying to mask his relief with a glare.
“Oh, good. He finally decided to wake up.”
“Hey, how many times do I have to
tell you? Beauty sleep is important.” A pause. “Where are we
Pidge snorted. “Guess that general
hit him harder than we thought.”
“Lance! You’re okay! I was worried—
that totally knocked you out, you hadn’t moved in a while,” Hunk
rambled. “Does your head hurt?”
“Like hell,” Lance said, leaning
back against the wall and pressing a hand to his forehead. “But
nothing too serious. Thankfully, now that I’m conscious, I remember
what happened. We’ve been captured, haven’t we?”
Try Harder To Be Discreet. (Barry Allen/The Flash Imagine)
Request: Can I please request a Barry Allen x Reader where she is Harrison Wells’ daughter and Barry and the reader have been married for a while now and they want to tell the team that they are expecting a baby. Thanks!
I don’t know if you meant Eobard!Wells, or Harry Wells, or H.R. Wells. So I decided to go with Eo!Wells who isn’t evil in this. I hope you don’t mind!
I know… I’ve been inactive! I really am trying!
I know this is late! I’m sorry!
Requests are open! (Just bear with me)
I hope you enjoy!
You looked down at the small tattoo of a lightning bolt on your ring finger for comfort as you threw up in the S.T.A.R. Labs restroom. It was Barry’s idea, seeing as a wedding band would’ve raised suspicions. It’s been nearly two years since you and Barry started dating. And it’s been about six months since you two were secretly got married. Your relationship was something unplanned, but neither of you had any doubts.
The only problem with the marriage and relationship was that your father, the great Harrison Wells, has yet to be informed about it. Every chance you got to tell him, there was always something that ruined the moment. You knew the more you kept it a secret, the more strained your relationship with your father would be. The mere thought of losing your father made you want to hurl, but that wasn’t the reason as to why you were having morning sickness.
After a few minutes, you got up and composed yourself, fixing your hair in a bun and wiping away your smudged makeup. You quickly left the restroom and went back to your desk, pretending as if nothing happened.
“Caitlin, please check on (Y/N).” Your father said as he monitored the computers, watching Barry’s every movement.
“But Barry’s on a mission-” Caitlin began, but your father shook his head.
“Armed robbery… Barry’s got this.” Caitlin gave you a soft smile before helping you up.
Caitlin knew exactly was wrong with you, but she didn’t want to pry. You wish you invited her to be a witness to your wedding, but since the decision was so spontaneous, Joe and Iris took on the roles.
“Every thing seems to be in order. You don’t have a fever…” Caitlin trailed off as she cleaned off her thermometer. “Did you have anything bad last night?” She asked.
You shook your head as you thought about last night. Barry spent the night trying to make you comfortable and catered to your every need. He even raced to Star City to get Big Belly Burger, the one that always put in extra fries. But you definitely didn’t eat anything that didn’t sit well with you. If anything, it sat quite nicely.
“She seems fine.” Caitlin called out to your father as Barry sped right in. His eyes widened as he took note of you sitting on the hospital bed.
“You okay?” He asked, worry in his eyes. What he really wanted to ask was: is the baby okay?
You nodded. “Just threw up because of something. No biggie.”
“Yes biggie. You could have an ulcer, or some gallbladder diseases, or a brain tumor, (Y/N)!” Cisco yelled out. You raised your eyebrows at him.
And Caitlin gave him a strange look. “Did you look up vomiting causes on WebMD?” She asked. Cisco gave her a sneaky grin and she rolled her eyes. “I promise, you have none of that. Don’t worry… I’m talking to you, Dr. Wells.” You all chuckled as your father’s panic was easily seen on his face.
“I mean she could be pregnant.” Your father stated. Everyone just froze on the spot. You and Barry both looked at him quizzically. None of you were sure if he was joking or not, but the thought of your father finding out this way shook you to your core. “What?”
“W-why do you say that?” You asked, your voice shaking but you attempted to keep it straight.
“People take pictures, (Y/N). Videos, even.” Your father began. “And the funniest thing occurred to me when I saw these videos and photos on the internet… I thought hmm.. why is Barry always running around near (Y/N)’s apartment? You can put together a puzzle like that as quickly as a speedster, can’t you? You randomly getting a lightning tattooed on your ring finger. Barry always worrying about you. You always worrying about Barry. Not to mention we have cameras.”
You and Barry knew the cat was out the bag, but neither of you dared to glance at each other. You both kept your eyes trained on your father. “So how long have you two been together?” Your dad asked.
“Two and a half years.” Barry asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Anything else I might want to know?”
You slowly tip toed over to your husband as you interlaced your fingers. “Um… Six months ago we eloped.” You saw your father’s jaw clench but it slowly released. “And I’m three and a half weeks pregnant.” You and Barry flinched awaiting your father’s wrath, but none came.
“That part I put together on my own seeing as you’re almost always tired, hungry, and if you aren’t at a calmed state, your enraged. Much like your mother.” You smiled, remembering the memories you had of her, a few tears escaped your eyes and Barry rubbing your back soothingly. “I’m mad that I didn’t get to walk my baby girl down the aisle, but we can always redo that part. Barry take care of my girl. And… for the love of God, Try Harder To Be Discreet.”
You walked over to hug your father, crying quietly into his arms. But then Cisco cleared his throat. “We’re definitely redoing that wedding. Barry, what were you thinking? I wasn’t your best man, dude!”
I usually don’t do this kind of thing, but I’m itching inside while reading some stuff, and I just really want to put this out there…
Jungkook and Jimin have a close and special relationship. End point.
See, the thing about the recent event is that, no matter the circumstances, it doesn’t matter if he was quoting a k-drama (as I’ve seen some people attempting to point out, which… Sorry, it’s nice to think about stuff from different perspectives and in an unbiased way, but I just think it was a stupid thing to try and compare to, lmao. Especially if none of them have ever mentioned watching it, so…), what matters is that Jungkook is still younger than Jimin, and therefore, this is uncommon behaviour.
“Oh but he could have been joking around”, see, if he’s joking around, he’s still playing with hierarchy. He owes his hyungs respect, and if he’s gone and called Jimin “baby” even if as a joke, it’s because Jimin let him, or if he was opposed to it, Jimin would’ve scolded him immediately, and he didn’t.
IN FACT! Jimin didn’t even flinch. He didn’t react. Jimin reacted to it as naturally as the speed of which the pet name came out of Jungkook’s mouth. It was normal for both of them. The act itself is bold. What’s so difficult to understand?
“Oh, but he could’ve been talking to Taehyung!”
Sorry but no, Jungkook wasn’t talkingto Taehyung. Taehyung was right beside him, and when he spoke, he spoke louder and looked behind him - precisely at where Jimin was standing - to speak. If he was speaking to Taehyung, he wouldn’t need to look behind him, to where Jimin was. He would plainly and simply look beside him, where Taehyung was, which was much simpler and easier to do. Also, it was Jimin who was ‘holding them back’ because he was the one taking pictures and taking his time when both Jungkook and Taehyung were already ready to go. So, yes, he talked to Jimin.
And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but no, he was not talking to or about the ocean. I mean??? Do I even need to go there? Yeah, I thought so.
Thing is: Why is it so hard for some people to just accept the fact that Jungkook acts in a certain way with Jimin that:
- Is uncommon in between boys in Korea;
- Is uncommon when HE is the youngest in the pair. Jungkook is the maknae, he is Jimin’s dongsaeng. Jungkook is in (technically) a lower position in relation to Jimin.
Jimin doting on Jungkook, or any of the hyungs really, is common behaviour because Jungkook is the baby, he is the youngest. They will dote on him.
But the fact that some of the shit Junkook says (like speaking informally, calling Jimin princess, manggaetteok, baby) is not normal for the YOUNGEST to say/call/tell to his ELDER, and that is what is so telling.
It’s not the pet names themselves, it’s the fact that they’ve acquired such intimacy and comfort with each other that Jimin lets him do it and get away with it. And not only that, but Jimin is also comfortable with it. If he wasn’t so, he would’ve stopped Jungkook a long time ago.
So really, the main point here is: the things that Jungkook does to Jimin, he doesn’t do to any of his other hyungs, and the things he does to Jimin, they’re uncommon. It’s a breach in hierarchy, and this is what’s shocking and this, per se, is what speaks so loud about their dynamics and relationship. They’re close. Maybe the closest in the band, and no one can deny it.
I’m not making any assumptions in here, see? I’m just plainly stating facts. For Jungkook to be able to do such thing is because Jimin lets him. And for Jimin to let him, it’s because they’re close. End point.
I have no idea if they are dating or not, I don’t even feel comfortable saying it, this is not even what this post is about.
What I’m trying to say here and I’m rambling is just that I don’t get people being so salty and annoying over facts and why people keep trying to deny facts. They are close. Jikook are close, and that’s it. Just get over it.
Even if as a joke, even if as a quote, it’s still the dongsaeng calling his hyung baby. It’s the act. It’s the dynamics. @satellite-jeon has spoken about this so many times now, and she explained it well enough in her last post.
So, please. I’m not trying to prove shit with this, I’m just trying to say that Jimin and Jungkook have a special relationship. Be it platonic, be it romantic, be it professional, be it whatever. They have something special.
Okay, Tegs, I'm gonna have to ask you to explain the 'getting asked to leave preschool' thing
Preschool was a weird time for me. I was one of those horribly precocious children- I’d taught myself to read before I was three- and so while my classmates were learning their ABCs, I was reading chapter books I’d brought from home. It was honestly a total waste of time, and I acted out a lot because I was bored as hell. It was really more like day care, but understaffed- for the entire three and four year old class, there was only one teacher. Her name was Sister Ida and she would play us songs on the guitar and sing. But this wasn’t enough to mollify me; I had been SO EXCITED about school because that’s where you get to learn. The kids in books all went to school- my mom says that the summer before I started pre-school, I’d get out of bed and wake her up in the middle of the night asking if it was time to go to school. But then school turned out to be an utter disappointment. A lot of preschool is really about socialization; learning to share, learning to get along with other kids, learning not to be pushy- but I would shut down around other kids because I just wanted to read books. I’d throw a fit when my books were taken away, so Sister Ida just let me read. What else could she do? My parents didn’t want to move me up a grade because I was bad enough at talking to children my own age and they really didn’t think I’d thrive with kids older than me. I wasn’t more mature emotionally than my age cohort- I was just academically quicker, and that was a recipe for disaster if they’d bumped me up.
My parents could never get stuff done with me around, because I was always asking a million questions, so they turned to that old standby, the electronic babysitter. If I was out of books to read, I could turn on the TV; my mom just left the one in the living room tuned to the Discovery Channel. This was old school Discovery Channel, not the reality show network it is today, which meant that I was watching animal documentaries all the time.
One day, I saw a documentary about sea turtles. Specifically it was a program about the miracle of sea turtle birth- how they have so many eggs and how they don’t all make it to the sea. There was a segment on how the sea turtles find mates and how the males hang onto the females for up to twenty-four hours and how mating is violent but then she has all those eggs… I thought it was amazing. It seemed like some kind of magic trick- insert magic wand, presto change-o, baby sea turtles. I decided that I would take this in for show and tell- I would demonstrate (drumroll, please) mating.
I had these little plastic turtles that I put in my schoolbag. Show and tell came around and when it was my turn, I stood up in front of the class and said “I’m going to show you how sea turtles mate!”
Sister Ida was not fast enough to stop me. I started talking about how the sea turtles entered a mating bond and stacked the plastic turtles on top of each other and then talked about how the eggs came out of the female’s cloaca. It was upsetting to the other children because I was using big words they didn’t know and it was upsetting to the nun because I was teaching three year olds about sex. When I started talking about how the male enters the cloaca and stays there for as long as a day and how the female sea turtle tries to bite him because his claws hurt, well… they’re just lucky I didn’t have visual aids beyond those two plastic turtles because male sea turtle genitals are enormous and horrifying.
This all led to a conference with my parents where the principal explained that 1.) I wasn’t learning anything; 2.) that my boredom was actually diminishing my burgeoning social skills; 3.) and that I was introducing material that wasn’t grade appropriate to kids who didn’t understand. Really, it was the best thing for me- the principal thought that I’d be better off at the public school where they actually had resources beyond a singing nun with a guitar. So when it was time for kindergarten, that’s where I went.
Some say that his tears are adhesive, and that if he caught fire he’d burn for 1000 days. Some say that his ears aren’t exactly where you’d expect them to be, and that once, preposterously, he had an affair with John Prescott. We suddenly realise that we have no idea what the truth is. Who is the strange creature? What does he want from us? All we do know, is that he’s called The Stig.
It’s the year 2056. Bruce Forsyth is now 141 years old. He’s outlived his family, he’s outlived his old co-stars. He’s outlives everyone he knows. He’s outlived all of us. The apocalypse happened 10 years ago and Brucie is the only one left. He is the last man on Earth.
You’re in Tescos just before Election Day. You stop by the news and magazines section expecting to find some quality political analysis on the front page of your favourite paper, but all you find is rows and rows of the same image. Ed Miliband eating a bacon sandwich. At least that’s what the headline says he is doing. But you look closer. And that most certainly is not bacon.
You’re on the settee. You’re sort of half asleep-half scrolling Facebook for quality bants. ITV is on in the background but you haven’t been paying attention since Jezza Kyle went off. Something suddenly forces you to snap back to reality. In the corner of your eye you see an oversized white collar, thick rimmed black glasses… No, no, I thought it was over, please tell me he isn’t back, isn’t it over?? You turn to see the collar is now poking through the telly, and he’s there. Staring. There’s only one way to find out… FIGHT
LAD culture is taking over. Every word in the English Dictionary is quickly being replaced to include with word “bant” in it somewhere. All dinosaurs have been renamed Bantersauruses. At Christmas the only thing you can watch at the theatre is a Bantomime. Law dictates that the only things we can put in our gardens are blants, particularly of the
chrysbanthemum variety. We don’t even wear normal underwear anymore. We literally wear bants.
I wonder what ever happened to Dec, you wonder as you watch Ant presenting Britain’s Got Talent solo. You’re suddenly very aware that you haven’t seen him in a while, but Ant has never mentioned where his counterpart has gone. But wait. Ant looks different. The more you stare at his face the more obvious it becomes, but somehow only you can see it. Dec is trapped inside Ant’s massive forehead.
It’s been a long time since Freddos were 10p. A long time. And the price of them is no long a humorous topic used to express faux-indignation at the ever rising cost of living. They are a sad subject now, and it is deemed rude to even bring up the topic of Freddos in good company. Every time your gazes flickers to the £1 label beneath the untouched stack of Freddos at Morrisons, you die a little bit inside, a tear rolls down your cheek.
Please ignore this, it is a Random rant. When I last visited my best friend she asked me if I’ve heard of that Disney theory where Anna and Elsa’s parents are also Tarzan’s parents. She’s a huge fan of the Frozen film and I’m… well I hate it. She thought that this tidbit which was supposedly confirmed by the Frozen director would make me like it more. Which surprise: It did not. I mean, for one that interview where they said he said so, he stated: “So in my little head, Anna and Elsa’s brother is Tarzan – but on the other side of that island are surfing penguins, to tie in a non-Disney movie, ‘Surf’s Up.’ That’s my fun little world.”
So like… that’s not a confirmation tho. That’s a HEADCANON. And yes, even creators can have headcanons that don’t fit into canon heck I have them all the time just for flights of fancy on my own work. Least of all what annoyed me was that Tarzan’s parents and the Frozen parents don’t really look alike the more I scrutinize it. Not to mention they’re canon from England??? And the royal couple is not??? I can’t remember if they have British Accents in the movie but I’d dismiss that cuz everyone always defaults to British for rich people/royalty in English speaking media. Their hair colors are different? Sure you can argue that their faces sort of look alike but…. Disney generic faces??? So I’d dismiss that too.
Not to mention the timelines don’t hold up? Frozen takes place according to the artbook in the 1830s-40s and Tarzan takes place in the 1890s. That’s like a 50 year difference unless Tarzan aged extremely well that jungle sure must have some fountain of youth. But there are other indicators like… TECHNOLOGY! That is not yet available by the time Anna and Elsa are adults (or when Tangled takes place also cuz we know for sure Frozen and Tangled take place at the same time). Jane arrives on a fucking steamship that’s bigger than the royal ship for fuck’s sake. Another thing is that the King and Queen’s trip was only supposed to take 2 weeks. But Tarzan was born ON THE SHIP, so she’d have to be heavily pregnant when she boarded that ship which she clearly wasn’t and if she was I actually doubt they’d let her sail on it. Either that or their 2 week trip somehow turned into 9+ months. SO. MANY. HOLES. Like, it just annoys me to no end that this movie is trying to shove itself in every Disney place it can.
Like I know I know… Yume you’re taking this way too seriously. It’s all for fun. And sure if you like this theory than sure but like… the people who made this theory sure thought seriously about it. Why can’t I?
In conclusion no, I do not like Frozen any better now, and fuck this theory.
P.S. Surf’s Up takes place in modern times with reality TV Mr. Director, please stahp. The only way I will accept Surf’s Up into cartoon canon is if Chicken Bob is a descendant of HeiHei.