#its so so important and i understand that but sometimes the reality of the world doesnt make you feel warm and fuzzy inside

[wizzardhat]

Im rereading nona and i am baffled anew by people who listen to jod recount every single agonizing step in his slow and terrible descent and are like, "wow John was always an awful irredeemable liar and his reluctance to admit that he set off the nukes was not, in fact, him struggling to accept the magnitude of how completely and terribly he failed and became the very person he was trying to stop, but was just another calculated lie because he's a Bad Man. if it were me i would have simply not done that." I have to assume these are the same people who read "**When our backs are against the wall and everything is falling apart we rarely become heroes" and were like "huh i wonder who thats for"

**approximate quote from memory because I cannot for the life of me find the exact excerpt but it was one of Wake's "letters" that only Harrow could read while they were in the bubble

[administer-distractions]

.

[shycloudkitty]

Just one more minute...

Summary: Your husband has to leave for yet another mission but he's not quite ready to let you go yet… So he just savors…each… moment… 

Pairing: Death Island! Leon × Fem reader

Tags: a bit angsty but lots of comfort, Leon sleeping peacefully for once in his life, fluff, established relationship. Just overall a short comfy read <3

WC: 1.3K

Masterlist | Ao3 account

Small droplets of rain splatter on the windows of your bedroom. The soft sound created a soothing lullaby for the ears for those who were sleeping to it. The cloudy weather and the chill air contributed in making it the most serene environment while you stay snuggled up peacefully in your husband's arms with a warm blanket over you. 

His arms stayed around your waist holding you gently in a warm embrace, face nuzzling your hair, gentle breathing warming your neck. This was always his favorite position to fall asleep to. Your smell, your soft touch, your weight beneath him, telling him that you were really here… You were real. 

Your arms were wrapped around his bare torso and face buried in his chest. Feeling his body warmth seep into your skin. Limbs trained to take life, now just protecting you from the chill air and comforting you in your sleep. 

It was such a simple moment, just a couple sleeping and relaxing in each other's comfort. But at the same time it was so rare between you two. Just having these simple moments with him felt like a blessing. It was heaven.

And why wasn't it normal for both of you? Right. He had a job of saving the world, do or die, special agent... You get the idea. Except his job wasn't exactly a James Bond one. That only happened in movies. No, this was more grim than what they show in the movies. But what can you do when these are the cards life dealt you with? 

But he always felt inspired by you, how you handled every situation thrown at you with grace. Obviously, he wasn't a fool, he could see it was tough but still tried your best. Even in this relationship, you handle everything with so much love and care…he never had someone who sticked with him more than a few months let alone actually get married to. 

He didn’t hold anything against his exes, like his life was basically swamped with work so he understood why they left. What was actually confusing? You staying in his life, despite everything. You stayed even when he missed some of the important moments of your life. Sadly, that was the reality of his job. You win some, you lose some.

He was obviously happy that you stayed with him despite everything but he never quite understood why? He couldn't help but ask you this question. He remembers seeing your cheeks get red, avoiding his gaze and softly saying ‘I love you’. He also recalls saying ‘thank you’ in response because of how flustered he got from the confession. 

That memory always makes him facepalm himself.

After the day of your confession it was like his world flipped. And even though he didn't understand it fully at the time he wanted to do everything in his power to keep you in his life, even if it meant catering to your every whim. He listened to everything you said, trying to remember the best he could. 

He actually has a secret folder on his phone containing everything about your likes and dislikes just in case he needs a refresher. 

He didn’t even realize when it happened but he fell in love with you and wanted to keep you in his life forever. Thankfully, you felt the same way when he got down on one knee and asked if you wanted to marry him. He almost lost the ring with how nervous he was, fidgeting with the ring box in his pocket every 5 minutes.

It's been a few years since he tied down the knot with you and it was the best decision of his life. Sure, being married presents its own set of problems, sometimes things get rocky between you two, but there was nothing you both couldn't solve. Sometimes the problems needed talking, other times he could tell without you saying a word. But each time he makes it known that he loves you. Always. 

The soft rain slowly stirs Leon awake, he glances at his surroundings and then looks down at your sleeping face with his bleary eyes. He yawns and rubs his eyes, the digital clock on his nightstand read 6:30am. 

It was still half an hour early before he had to go to work today for some missing person assignment Hunnigan gave out. He didn’t wanna go but apparently it was top priority and needs his immediate attention. He told you about it last night, you weren't exactly happy since it was last minute but at this point you had grown used to it.

He tilts his head and looks at your serene face, caressing your cheek and sighing. His lips press a soft kiss on your forehead and gently threads his fingers through your hair. His voice comes as a soft whisper. “I don't wanna go either… you know that, right?” You probably knew how he felt about going too. You could read him like a book at this point. 

His eyes flit through your soft features, taking note of your breathing, slow and deep, fully relaxed. He smiles to himself and whispers in the same soft voice. “God, you’re so beautiful. You always are.” he lovingly brushes some hair out of your face. “I'm really lucky I get to see you like this, feels like I'm in heaven even if I probably won't ever go there. You do so much for us, I wish I could just stop this moment for us and never let go.”

He sighs softly and slowly pulls you closer to the warmth of his chest, trying not to jostle you too much. He closes his eyes briefly, focusing on your warmth. And starts mumbling to himself. “Honestly, if I was a poet I would have written dozens of poems about you. They probably would have been corny but you would have liked it.”

He gently starts brushing your hair again and continues. “But since I'm not… I don't have enough words to fully express how much you mean to me. The fact that we’re still together, makes me the luckiest fool ever lived. My heart hurts sometimes because of how happy I get cause of you.”

He sighs and mumbles. “I'm not normal…never have been. But with you…I feel that I finally became the man that I was supposed to be. And that I finally have a place called home."

He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. He didn't know what had possessed to become so sentimental this early. “I'm really cheesy aren't I?”

He felt soft teardrops on his chest where your face was resting. You had woken up from his rambling. 

His heart clenches from realization. He gulps, feeling the sudden lump rise up in his throat. He hugs you tighter and rubs your bare back. “I will come back, I promise.” Softly pressing a kiss on your shoulder. 

He glances at the time again. It was nearly 6:55am. He had to start getting ready for work. 

He slowly tilts your face, wiping away the tears from your shining eyes. His expression softens, cupping your face in his hands and softly kisses you. He feels you kiss him back, your grip on his arm tight. 

After a few moments you both slowly pull back from the kiss, eyes closed, foreheads resting against one another, soft breathing filling the quiet room. He softly mumbles. “I have to get ready now sweetheart.”

He feels you shake your head in response. Your soft voice fills the room. “No…wait for few more minutes. Just stay.”

He gulps and nods. He wasn't strong enough to deny that request. He pulls you close, covering both of you in the blanket. “Of course, darling.” And press soft kisses on your shoulder. 

Enjoying these quiet moments of solace with you. Even if he couldn't make this moment last forever, he knew he would come back to relish it again... 

Usually I wouldn't say this but I would very much appreciate it if you left comments, obviously if you want to. It helps me improve and encourages me to write more. 😊❤

-Bella

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free

Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: This is based on 4dbarbie's guide to a new identity but you can do it with I AM in mind instead (replacing paragraph 6) for self-realization

My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red

Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4

Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.

You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.

And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.

So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.

Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.

Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.

Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!

Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.

[dolphin-diaries]

i apologise if this is too venty or oversharing. i've been reading your and talia's essays while in the middle of my own gender-crisis and while i recognise them as the most comprehensive and sensible framework i've seen to understand how the patriarchy works - and i regret how this might come off as a whiny "what about me" - when patriarchy forces us into these strict biodestinies, what's the point of transitioning or trying to express your gender outside the box? again i do not mean this as a gotcha or declaring that people shouldn't transition ever, but the closest thing i've got to describing myself is "dykegender" and i know declaring myself as one would be met with raised eyebrows and "humouring the crazy" at best and being violently regendered into broodmare at worst. it's already so hard to explain and declare myself and just be seen as a lesbian, and i'm struggling to see if there's any benefits to openly being a deviant woman-dyke-thing vs swallowing my (relatively minor) dysphoria

thank you for reading this. thank you for your writing. i hope i come off as sincere and with respect.

I'm glad you find our writing thought-provoking. And yeah, first of all, I want to say that I empathise with your feelings--I think a lot of queer people struggle with existing legibly, because queerness is made illegible by the patriarchy. So your "what's even the point??" question makes sense.

Because I don't know you, I'm going to have to make some assumptions and answer from multiple angles, sometimes over explaining myself, because I don't know what baseline you're coming from. I hope that's okay.

Firstly, transition can actually change the way people gender you, even in places where trans-ness is very invisible. But based on what you wrote, I'm going to assume you're dissatisfied with simply shifting your perceived sex from woman to man or vice versa. Secondly, if you have physical dysphoria, addressing that will help you even if no one else on the planet recognises that as anything of importance. It's still your body to live in 24/7, and you'll be happier if you like living in it.

When it comes to the function of patriarchy, you probably understand that Talia and I talk about the overarching emergent system. Its details differ by location and culture and subculture--the core large-scale tendencies stay largely the same, but their expression and severity changes. More to the point, not all people follow patriarchal prescripts all the time or at all. So, an environment that does not denigrate you because you call yourself dykegender, and that does not treat you or women like would-be broodmares, is possible--I can attest to that from personal experience. Even if people in such an environment don't understand what your specific gender means, trust me they are capable of not treating you like shit. You are not submitting yourself to the judgement of the entire world at all times, and you do not need to measure the worthiness of your actions by the worst treatment you get or might get.

In other words, finding friends and community with people that do see you is possible--they exist, you're reading essays by some of them. I will not deny that there will still be people that meet you with confusion and hostility, but to say that their existence makes the entirety of your being a lost cause is a bit fatalistic. I feel like the good times we have in our queer communities, big and small, are not less worthwhile or fulfilling because of the suppression we face outside.

Lastly, I'm going to give you advice that you might scoff at, but hear me out. The thing with writings about social constructs of patriarchy and disability and so on is that they're not good at inspiring contentment and affirmative happy fun times. That isn't their purpose. But human beings need some amount of affirmative happy fun times, especially in crisis. That leads to some human beings sticking their heads in the sand and never emerging to face reality again, but you seem to have the exact opposite tendency.

So I will recommend that you seek out lesbian genderfucky fiction in whatever way you prefer to consume fiction. Talia and I both write that occasionally, but this isn't a plug and I don't know what you like. Regardless, the psyche is a muscle that needs rest, and escapist and cathartic fiction is a form of rest in which your mind gets to try on different realities and experience them in a safe environment. And, in seeking out people that create fiction resembling the kind of worlds you'd like to live in, you can also connect with people that also enjoy that fiction--meaning, they're probably like you, and will understand you. This isn't per se about fandom, but rather shared dreams and aspirations and communities. Even when you're isolated in a terrible situation IRL, that can give you solace for the moment and eventually strength to try and change your circumstance--and friends who can help you do that, including materially.

[brummelliana]

I don't deny that John may have had romantic feelings for Paul, but I don't like McLennon - in the sense of turning all of this into a kind of yaoi and eroticizing the whole situation. In my vision and knowledge if they were a couple it wouldn't be healthy like any John's relationships he had. John didn't deserved Cynthia, Yoko, May or even Paul, this bastard deserved THERAPY at first before have any romantic relationship (even tho it would be difficult since it was seen as taboo in that time)

Idk why you're ANONing me this, we are totally on the same page fr. Oncoming word salad. 

John WANTED that McPaulussy, that's just a fact, but he fumbled it and he fumbled hard. Paul loved attention, but loved pussy more. There can be more nuance, sure, but you can leave that to people who really care about the Beatle academia. I'm more of a casual, and picked things up over the years. Yet there is so much misinfo, even in published books, faded memories, who can really say the truth. At this point I just choose the Beatles canon in my mind that amuses me most. 

To your second point, I completely agree. Taking the Lennon-McCartney relationship too seriously, turning it into some melodrama yaoi is dumb imo. 

HOWEVER. At this point in my internet tenure, I don't really care. Sure, I'll get secondhand embarrassment here and there, but like…. Who cares what people do. If it makes them happy, brings some joy into their life to eroticize Lennon-McCartney, who cares? This world is cruel enough as it is, and it does no harm. Though, for their own sake, hopefully it's self-aware. 

Furthermore, there are a lot of very talented artists and writers in the community who engage with it and create great stuff.

I'm too much of a jaded cynic to invest in shipping real people from real life. No, not from a standpoint of respect, I clearly don't respect either of them. I'll draw them making out sloppy style cause it amuses me. John is so pathetic, and Paul's such a whore/bitch. Sometimes I'll play up the melodrama cause its funny from an irony standpoint, how much people (both fujos and old men) put their relationship on a pillar. 

As I've gotten older, I've really fallen off shipping anything, but when I do, I like literary tragedy, and soulmate-type stuff that simply doesn't exist in reality. In fiction, the characters and plot is predetermined, while real life is disorganized chaos. Connections come and go, and infatuation is easily lost. 

People don't get that the Beatles drifted apart, and after a certain point, the most important people in their lives weren't each other. John and Paul's life isn't a predestined love story, with a coherent linear plot structure. 

I feel that a lot of fans are stuck in the 60s. That was so long ago. 83 year old Paul doesn't cry himself to sleep each night over his soulmate who died too soon. (I stand by the theory that he plays up their connection cause he knows it makes fans squirt. Like the "turning away from the stage to look at get back john" was for publicity. I'm not saying he doesn't miss him or whatever, but I am positive he plays it up.) 

Of course their past will always be, and nobody else will understand what Beatling was like, but honestly… my heart breaks every time I watch a George Harrison interview from the mid-seventies onward, and all they want to talk about is the Beatles. I see that miserable empty look in his eyes and I'm right there with him. He has a life outside of that!! He's released more music BETTER music since then! Yet all they want to talk about the guys he used to wank off with. 

As for john getting therapy… oh who cares. I think people throw that around too much. Therapy doesn't always solve anything. Besides, forget about taboo, If I were John, I wouldn't even trust a therapist not to leak his sessions. They couldn't even trust their dentist! He wasn't just some guy, he was one of the most famous men on earth. John's mommy issues and weird sex stuff is going to be revealed during his life rather than from raiding his diaries posthumously. 

I'll tell you, I never looked into John post-breakup besides passing knowledge, because like a puppy is abandoned once it grows into a dog, I stop caring about John once he stops being cute to me (1968)

In the Mclennonites' defense, John and Paul's story is really compelling. I can see why people would want to write about it, even if I've gotten bored of fic a few years ago.

Why do you think I've been interested in the Bealtes so long? Fact is more interesting than fiction, even if we'll never know the full story. There's so much to interact with. Maybe my problem with the shippers is the tendency to simplify it too much. Turn the boys into two dimensional tropes without understanding the history, turning the story into a cookie cutter romance.

Then there are the McLennonites who think its hot for the Beatles to wank each other off, and their engagement is purely sexual. This is the demographic I respect the most.

[alexanderwales]

There's a scene in Kurt Vonnegut's Player Piano where an architect uses an AI to generate architectural plans within constraints, and the program does so well that the man realizes that he's completely useless, so he goes and kills himself.

I think this is one of the reasons that I keep finding myself drawn to AI text generation, following the papers and reading some of the output: am I useless yet? Has the time come when I've been surpassed?

And every time I check it out, I see that it's just not there yet ... but sometimes it's closer.

I'm starting to get very frustrated by some of the AI conversations. There's so much question about whether or not AI is capable of producing art, and I keep thinking that this is unnecessarily philosophical.

I would say that currently, in terms of prose generation, the AI is in the bottom 30% of writers, it's just bad in very different ways from a human writer. There are obvious issues with accuracy and consistency, and it leans on cliché, and doesn't understand pacing very well, but ... to me, these are important things to know? And they're not insurmountable, even if we froze the models at their current capabilities.

One of the main things I see people throw around is that AI writing is boring and uncreative. I guess I would agree with that generally, but it isn't axiomatically true, it's just true right now. And it's not even that bad.

Here's an example: I have a script set up to generate novels, and it starts with a premise, which comes from a combination of genre and theme (which are provided by me). Here, I had provided "genre=fantasy, new weird" and "themes=grief, loss, creativity and creation".

When renowned sculptor Maya Chen loses her ability to create after her daughter's death, she discovers that her abandoned artworks have begun manifesting as living entities in a parallel dimension called the Unfinished. As these incomplete creations start bleeding into reality—bringing both wonder and horror—Maya must venture into this realm of artistic fragments to confront her grief and either complete what she started or risk watching her uncontrolled imagination consume the world.

Is this a wholly unique plot? I mean, no, but I think wholly unique plots are kind of overdone, and that people place too much emphasis on doing something that's never ever been done before. But if you told me this was the premise of your novel, I wouldn't immediately say "well that's derivative garbage". If I picked up a book in the store and read this blurb ... it doesn't sing to me, I wouldn't buy this book unless it had rave reviews, but I wouldn't think "ugh, another book about a creatively blocked artist mourning the death of a loved one". I think that if I had to, I could write this book, and I wouldn't be straining under an overdone premise.

Here's how the novel opens:

The studio had become a tomb.

Maya Chen sat rigid in the wooden chair that had once been her throne, her spine straight as carved alabaster, her hands folded in her lap like offerings to a god who no longer listened.

And you know ... this isn't terrible! I think "spine straight as carved alabaster" is just nonsense as a metaphor, and indicative of the kind of error that LLMs routinely make, mashing together words that sound nice but don't actually work as imagery. Is carved alabaster straight? I would submit that it's not. The word was probably "chosen" for its associations of being cold, pale, and a sculptor's stone, but it doesn't actually work here. So is her spine curved like carved alabaster? This would make sense if she sat hunched in her chair, but it's a pretty bad use of language.

I think if you're reading quickly, this is the sort of thing that you won't consciously notice, but I think maybe you will notice it subconsciously, particularly when it happens eight times in six paragraphs.

This foray was done with Claude Sonnet 4, which is close to being state of the art, though to my knowledge there's not a frontier model that's working on prose fiction. It's important to me to know what these models are capable of, and how they fail, at least partly so that I can know whether I need to start trying to pivot to another way of making money that's not writing.

Do I think it'll get there eventually? I mean ... I'm starting to get skeptical. I have a hard time reading more than a few pages of AI-generated text using the best prompting and control methods I know of, but I'm a professional writer and hobbyist programmer, so there's got to be someone who can coax better stuff out of the machines than I can.

For now, I'm resting secure in the thought that I'm a much better writer than the machine is. For now.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine, m | jjk | "... in your eyes."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

You'll find that you were never not mine. Wandering sometimes leads to finding. Finding sometimes leads to the truth. The truth sometimes leads to pinning someone to the wall and kissing them. But only if it feels right.

part i | part ii | this is part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; sloooow burn; exes-to-lovers / second chance romance; angst and fluff and feels; your POV; smut (nipple play, scratching / marking, handjob, cum-eating / feeding, fingering, penetrative sex - missionary, doggy)

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

The most important lesson I’ve learned, huh… I think I would say that even though this world is difficult, tough, downright unbearable at times, it is okay to be comforted by the small things. I think a lot of people ignore those small things when they’re upset since they seem frivolous or out-of-touch to appreciate when you are having a hard time. But those are the most important times to enjoy them. We should not feel guilty about a small happiness. A taste of a favorite sweet. The sunset sky when you look up. Laughing with a friend even though everything around you feels dark. These moments will become the stars that will light up your universe in this black world.

For such a friendly, unassuming young man in a suit, he had been such a poet.

At first, you wondered if this was something you could apply on to your life. You had asked, it works in reverse too, doesn’t it?

He had tilted his head, inquisitive. What do you mean?

Small, painful things can slowly but surely break a reverie too, if you don’t take notice of them.

Ah. You’re right.

Each conversation had been insightful in its own way. The woman in the white dress. The most important lesson I’ve learned is loyalty. You might not make as much money or be as famous as you would if you turned your back on someone, but money and fame are fleeting. If you nurture those around you well, you will live a fulfilled life. The man with the silvery-blonde hair and white dress shirt. What an odd question. For me… to be proud of doing what I want to do, even if I may not measure up to the success of others. When I was younger, I thought it was more important to reach a massive audience, to have many people see my color. But now... I don’t think that’s what I want. I want to be an important part of someone’s life, short-term or long-term. I want my time to count to those who count. The woman in a tight denim number and lots of colorful bracelets. It’s important to be yourself. No one walks the same path. You might be too much for some but you might be just right for others, and those people will end up understand you best. The last one, a man with a bright smile and black dress shirt that seemed to barely contain his energy. An important lesson, huh? I guess I would say, go for it. Sometimes I’m uneasy or not confident in a new situation, and I have to remember to just go for it. Yeah, I think I’ve learned a lot from just doing rather than thinking too long about it. The only thing holding me back was being scared. But, being scared doesn’t mean you can’t take action. It means you can, because you have the strength to acknowledge your fear.

Yes, well.

Going for it sort of ended in smashing over a million won worth of liquor into the ground.

You couldn’t blame the advice though. Honestly, you were glad for it. You were glad for each and every connection you made tonight with those strangers. You weren’t sure if Kim Seokjin had set it all up or if each one had approached from their own curiosity. A mixture of both, maybe. Before, they had all been only pretty faces. A shallow judgement for each individual’s hopes, dreams, and realities. You were sure that was Seokjin’s plan – for you to see for yourself what kind of world you were in.

Maybe not so vapid after all.

A little silly, perhaps.

“Hmph, well, at least I can thank you for not letting me walk into a porn scene.”

You winced as Kim Seokjin folded his arms. You both had stopped at the end of the hallway with Seokjin waving the guards away to speak to you directly. Your feet were mildly hurting from standing up for so long. It could have also been due to the emotionally draining past hour.

“I had no intentions of that,” you protested.

Those perfect brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh huh.”

You made a face. “Nothing was happening back there.”

“Uh huh,” Seokjin tittered again.

You couldn’t keep looking up at him anymore. He held a hand up as you shifted your eyes to the wall, crossing your arms too. Mostly to keep warm. And to hide a bit.

“Nu uh, I don’t want to know what dirty things you two were talking about.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “It’s not like that–”

Seokjin cut you off abruptly. “Did it help?” he inquired pointedly. “Did smashing one of my most expensive bottles of alcohol provide the catharsis you were looking for?”

You felt your cheeks heat. “S-Sorry, I’ll pay for it–”

“Hmph!” He sounded and looked offended. “I don’t need money. I have plenty of that. What I don’t have plenty of is somewhat sane people in my life. I watched you destroy public property and slap one of my security guys as if it was a normal Friday night for you.”

You cowered a bit. “Ah… I’ll apologize to him too.”

Seokjin sighed. He was a refined man with a hint of childishness that gave him eternal youth.

“I was glad to see it.”

He laughed slightly, shaking his head. You stared at him.

“I was nearly afraid that dating Jeon Jungkook had broken you.”

Wait.

“Broken me?”

His large shoulders slumped a little. “Ah, it was… It was so obvious. With Jungkook, too. It was as if the light had been sucked out of him. And you. There was a coldness about you that formed. I worried if you could hear all the whispers behind hands. Hoped Jungkook-ah had shielded you from them or, I don’t know, made you impervious somehow. But you could feel it too, couldn’t you? The ostracization. And he had contributed to it, in time.”

He had noticed.

That was enough to touch your heart.

You faltered. “It’s none of your fault. Or his circle of friends.”

Seokjin waved his hand. “Of course not. But it was still there. Hearing mindless droning all day is still a minor annoyance that builds up to a hornet’s nest over time. And I – no, we – spoke up too late.” He lowered his arms, defeated. “There isn’t much I can do, I know. But I wanted you to know that not everyone among us feels that way. Not everyone has their head in the clouds. Not just my circle of friends, but lots of people in this industry are good people with good intentions who are much better at comforting words than I am.”

You felt a surge of gratitude. Maybe for the first time tonight, you felt like crying. You lifted your head to soft, black brown eyes that were the windows to a big heart.

“Thank you.”

He seemed taken aback. “Ah… Right. Yes, you’re welcome,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You bowed to him.

“S-Stop that!” He smacked your shoulder with a mix of panic and defiance. “Don’t be ridiculous. And, anyway, I didn’t even succeed! You still ended up in an altercation with that big-nosed dongsaeng of mine. Hah…”

You laughed a little. “Ah, I’m sorry about that too. It was my fault he was so riled up.”

Seokjin gave you a contemptuous look that would put even the most disapproving aunt to shame. “No, really?”

You tried not to laugh. He was making it very difficult. It was probably the designer suit and corporately-parted hair mixed with his cartoonish reaction. “Please don’t be too hard on him.”

He made a disgruntled face as if he had to deal with an obnoxious puppy. “You should be worried about me. I’m sure he’s back there stomping his feet and being a stubborn little shit. Hah, well. I’ll have security escort you to your car waiting outside. Don’t slap anybody.”

You pouted. His youthfulness was infectious. “Aish, I won’t. I know my limits.”

“If only your other half did.” Seokjin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Go before I change my mind.”

He wouldn’t.

You backed off anyway, letting Seokjin saunter off, and was greeted halfway to the door by a kind security guard who didn’t ask if you were going to slap him. He did seem amused though. He was professional enough to keep it to himself, leading you to a side entrance where a black car was waiting to take you home after a very long and enlightening night.

-

Night felt different now.

Days felt different too, but the change wasn’t as obvious due to the hours consumed by work. There was plenty of distraction during the day, although you became strangely aware to how the world seemed different. How the sunlight seemed brighter. How there seemed to be a rhythm to the birds’ wings as they flapped away. How you occasionally caught yourself scanning the faces on streets, looking for something.

Someone.

But the sunset is when you noticed the shadows dancing around you. As the day died, you watched people slip from their responsibilities to their desires. A warm meal. A visit to the store to pick up a visual treat or a world within pages. A chance to see a familiar face, ending in a hug or, if lucky, a kiss. Stories within bodies.

You, too.

You found yourself at the movie theater again. You spent a moment, scanning the titles, picking an action movie you had never heard of. Even splurged for the popcorn, shaking it up in the bag with the salty, garlicky powder getting on your fingertips. You spotted a few clusters of friends. Couples. But also a few single individuals that were busy getting comfortable in their seats, placing their belongings just so, as if they did this all the time.

So, you too, sat down and placed your black bow purse beside you, adjusting your popcorn bag to the perfect snacking distance. It was exciting as the lights dimmed to black, enjoying the music score in surround sound, sucked into another world of imaginary action that you could safely enjoy despite all the bullets.

With popcorn, of course.

It felt different now.

It was only after you made your way home that you realized why.

And you smiled.

Another night, you decided to stop by the mall. Not to buy anything really, but to listen to the music at each of the stores. In this day and age of everything online, it was rare for you to make the effort. It was different now though, somehow. Honestly, not so bad. You purchased an overpriced drink and pretended to look at all the clothes as you listened to what was popular right now. Occasionally, you heard something interesting and pulled out your phone to search for the title of the song vis one of the lyrics, the usual way you used to do it. There were definitely apps for identifying songs instantly now, you thought, but there was something hands on and extra satisfying of replicating an old process.

You found yourself in front of a wall of skirts.

You looked up at the colors, the patterns, and saw nothing of what was currently in your wardrobe.

At work, you were required to dress semi-professionally. A lot of single-color blouses, long black skirts, simple silhouette dresses. A cardigan was your idea of spicing it up. In fact, today you were in a maroon button-up blouse with a high neck and billowy sleeves, and your signature long black skirt. Black heels with a cross strap detail, nothing special. Before, while you were dating Jungkook, you had borrowed a lot of clothes, as they had been required for specific events. Transactions. Nothing you personally owned, nor needed to. Even the small, tight dresses that you had purchased for dates you didn’t own anymore. You had donated them all. They had been purchased with the intent to look like a model’s girlfriend. Not to look like, well.

Yourself.

A pink gingham miniskirt with small red strawberries stitched onto it caught your eye.

You left the store with a brown bag with a few parcels wrapped in pink tissue paper and a lighter bank account. Did you know where you were going to wear these clothes? Nope. It was different, buying without a purpose, and yet.

It was an excuse to find an occasion.

You settled on a bench with a smile.

You held your drink and lifted your head, watching people walk past. Seeing glimpses of their stories through the windows of shops. A surprised face at seeing something they wanted. A look of bliss once they took a sniff of a scented candle. A wringing of hands in front of a gift shop, running out of time and paralyzed by decision. You took a sip, wondering if they would be successful. Your thoughts wandered, as they always did. I have someone. Individual realities parallel to yours, with the occasional interaction a demonstration of interaction. Moments that required moving against the natural course for a purpose. Sometimes a brief purpose, and sometimes entangled because they wanted to be.

The question was, did you want to be?

You had become aware of how your line had been. Dulled by distraction, lacking intersections, moving the lonely course without remorse. All the small things becoming a blur of monotony. The roses had become colorless from the coldness that you had inadvertently held onto.

Bit by bit, you were finding color once more.

You stood up with your empty cup, hurrying to find the appropriate trash can to dispose it in.

“Hey, excuse me!”

You started.

A mother with her arm around a small child’s shoulders waved at you. “Your shopping.”

“Oh, sh–sorry!”

You went back, bowing repeatedly as you picked up the brown bag, startled that you had forgotten your quite expensive purchases. The child shook their head at you. You sheepishly laughed, letting yourself be scolded by the kid. “An adult shouldn’t be so careless!” Well, that was a bit harsh, but you thanked them anyway, waving as you parted.

You turned around, returning to your escape route.

Careless, huh?

Maybe the kid was right.

Someone in black was walking down the path. A man. He was walking fast. An oversized grey beanie with dark hair poking out. Body drowning in a slashed black hoodie and ripped jeans. Black boots. Black face mask. It was a bit odd because he was wearing sunglasses inside. Still, there was no reason for you to look twice. He looked up.

Somehow you knew your eyes had met.

You slowed down.

Jeon Jungkook slowed down, reaching up to remove his glasses.

Would your eyes have met if you hadn’t had to double back to retrieve your shopping bag?

If you weren’t careless?

You saw him catch his breath as soon as he knew it was you. You weren’t sure how he knew. Then again, how did you know? This entire adventure had been on a whim. He stopped at a reasonable distance from you, and half-lowered his face mask, as if to greet you. But neither of you could utter a word. You held your small black purse that you haven’t changed in several years. It was a simple design with the designer embossed in very small font above a leather bow sewed flush to the front. Unremarkable, really, unless you knew.

And he knew, because Jungkook had brought it for you.

The first gift at the very beginning. He looked from the bag to you. Wondering if he should comment on it. He hesitated, and you understood why. Two parallel lines. No interaction would occur unless one moved against the natural course and doing so would be, well.

Careless.

“I hope,” you started, cautiously. Something flickered in those big brown orbs. “I hope Kim Seokjin didn’t scold you too much.”

He lowered his head a bit, half-laughing and half-scowling. “I did get a scolding for causing a commotion.”

“It was my fault,” you acknowledged once again.

He shook his head. “No, it was mine.”

You half-smiled. “Wanna fight about it?”

Jungkook raised his head, still holding onto the bottom of his face mask. You could see the mirth in his stance. It was almost as if there wasn’t a weighing limbo trapped between you and him.

“Actually, yeah.”

Almost immediately, you saw him falter, as if he knew he shouldn’t say something like that. You felt a sting witnessing it. He opened his mouth, and you almost heard it, his casual, just kidding, and this wasn’t like him at all.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

You interrupted him before he could add, just kidding. He stiffened, exposing hints of the printed white t-shirt under the tears of his hoodie. You were both occupying space on the walkway. People needed to walk around, some unbothered, some slighted by the inconvenience. His name on your tongue felt foreign and familiar at the same time. An end and a beginning all at once.

I have someone.

So did you.

You smiled.

“It’s really good to see you out and about.”

His eyes widened. You hoped he could tell that you meant it. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat a bit, trying to eliminate the sudden croak. “Yeah. You too. I’m…” His eyes shifted a bit. He was always focused on you, regardless. “I’m glad I ran into you today.”

And maybe that was it.

You were okay with that, though. That might have previously been a lie, but not now. It was probably unnecessary to say. Perhaps you had spoken up for some sort of closure, for both you and him. A chapter ended in some way.

He rubbed the back of his neck, ticking his head to the brown bag by your side. “You came to shop today?”

You held it up halfway with a chuckle. “Ah, well… It wasn’t the plan. Ended up that way.” You noticed the way he intently observed your actions. Couldn’t avoid it, really. You lowered the bag, not hiding even though it was maybe the better thing to do. “What about you?”

He paused. Had he forgotten already? You watched him gain his bearings with bemused patience.

“Ah, I…”

Jungkook looked and sounded embarrassed.

“What the hell,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Actually, I cancelled a shoot last minute.”

Your head tilted. “I’m surprised. That’s not like you.”

His pink lips upturned. You could spot that tiny mole underneath them, right at the center. “Yeah…” He trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. Ashamed, almost.

“It’s okay, though,” you offered. You hated to see that expression on his face. “You did what you felt was right. These things happen.”

He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t cancelled a shoot since…” He stopped.

You waited.

Jungkook glanced at you. You saw a pink twinge dust across his cheekbones.

“Since I first asked you out.”

You blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” You frowned. “I don’t remember anything like that.”

He winced and looked up at the ceiling, rocking on his heels a bit. “Actually, I… I lied. I pretended I wasn’t getting any bookings. Just to spend time with you in the beginning. But, uh, then I felt guilty. I wasn’t the man I thought I needed to be. The man you deserved.” He sighed, yanking one of his hands out to scratch his eyebrow absentmindedly. “But maybe I never was, because then I got swept up in all that bullshit.”

Jungkook looked down.

“I know it’s too late to say such things now.”

He seemed to collapse a little bit despite his tall frame.

“Now, it’s…” He sighed. “I can’t concentrate at all. I keep asking myself what I’m doing. For a while there I kept working in hopes that you would…” He grimaced again, but chose to ramble on anyway. “So you would still see me everywhere. Stupid, huh? And now it’s just…” He shook his head. “I think I should give up.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He took a deep breath and straightened. “Ah, my bad. I went on for nothing.” Bowing slightly, backing away. “I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t expect to run into you and now I’ve run my mouth like a madman.”

“Jungkook.”

His name came out of your mouth before you registered it. He stopped moving, looking back at you, halfway between pulling up his face mask. You struggled to find the words, clutching your unexpected purchases and your racing heart, his first present to you against your ribs.

“Don’t give up.”

You made sure not to break eye contact.

“It’s not like you to give up, you know. It’s my… my favorite thing about you.”

He seemed stunned.

“R… Really?”

You couldn’t help but smile. Nervously albeit fiercely determined.

“One of many.” You relaxed a bit, relieved that you were able to say so. You laughed a little at the absurdity of it all. “Although perhaps we need to stop doing these kinds of things in public.”

Jungkook jumped, seemingly realizing all the people around too. “Ah… Whoops.”

You bowed as you spoke. “Then, I’ll…”

The way he said your name, so soft and dreamlike, made you freeze mid-movement. He seemed flustered, stepping a little closer to you. It was the correct moment to pull back, replace some respective distance between you and him to keep a measure of strangers, and yet.

You let your eyes meet his under wisps of black hair sticking out of his beanie.

“Can we spend a little more time together? If it’s not too much trouble?”

It was. You had work tomorrow. You needed to get home and put away your things. Wash up. Do your nightly routine to unwind. Get back to being a responsible adult with responsibilities living a responsible life.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Sure.”

-

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

You were standing by his motorbike now. His pride and joy, yet you knew it was rarely used in his day-to-day life. For the best, probably, considering the risk. You weren’t surprised to see it today though. He always rode when he felt frustrated or out of it. The walk here had been silent, which you had expected. Jungkook was the king of speaking without a plan. You didn’t mind it, though. It reminded you of good times.

He awkwardly shuffled, obviously realizing that himself now.

“Hey.”

“Uh?” he answered distractedly.

“Why did you ask me out back then?”

He fumbled with his hands a bit. “Ah, that’s…”

You tilted your head, patiently waiting.

“I…” He stuttered a bit. Cleared his throat again. “I just couldn’t help but look twice. I thought you were hot as hell.”

You almost snorted. “Don’t you encounter enough of that at work?” you chuckled.

He shook his head. “No, it’s more like… Um, even if they’re attractive, everyone knows it is pretty for a purpose. They’re all taking care of themselves. Looks are the selling point, after all.” He poked at his own chest. “Me too.” He raised his head to you. “But you’re different. You don’t have to think about how you look will reflect in a paycheck. You take care of yourself for yourself.”

You thought about it. It didn’t seem that extraordinary. “Well, anybody can do that.”

He smirked.

“If anybody could do it, why could I only see you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You raised a hand to smack him and stopped short. Instead, you let your hand fall and half-rolled your eyes. “Ehhh, don’t try to pull that stuff on me.”

He laughed behind his hand. “Have to try.”

You frowned with feigned annoyance. Jungkook had always been taller than you, even in heels, assuming you weren’t opting for miniature stilts. Still, you always had the impression he was never looking down at you, but up, even when his eyes were downcast.

“Yeah, that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“That look you’re giving me right now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I knew you’d be able to balance me out and set me straight.”

You squinted at him. You let out a puff of air and looked away, tumbled into memories where maybe you could have been the one to change the course of these parallel lines. “Yeah, and look where that got us,” you muttered.

Sigh.

Somewhere behind you, a car honked loudly.

“Standing next to each other?” Jungkook quietly asked.

Two cars were having trouble at an intersection at the end of the row.

Standing next to each other.

Your gaze drifted back and locked with his. He didn’t try to hide the emotions his eyes. You were quite sure he could see through you too. The impasse remained, not because a bridge couldn’t be built, but because it couldn’t bear to be burned once more. Once more meant it would crumble to ash and disappear forever. You had thought it already had, until tonight.

You tried to reason with the unreasonable. “You cannot believe you skipping work and me deciding to spend a good chunk of my paycheck to mean some serendipitous shit, can you?” you scoffed.

He gave you that brilliant smile that had tamed you from the very beginning.

“You–”

You poked him hard in the chest.

“Ahh!”

Jungkook must not have expected that at all.

He almost fell over.

Your hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his hoodie, dragging him back. His body lurched, slightly off balance, and your elbow swung forward, bracing onto his abs, leaving your faces close enough together for bystanders to get the wrong idea. For him to get the wrong idea. For you, too. You were close enough to count his eyelashes.

Enough time elapsed that you might as well have.

“What… What is with you?” you muttered, gripping his clothes. “You’re so… dramatic.”

He had another piercing on the side of his right lip now. Huh. How come you didn’t notice? Probably too busy being mad at him. Or not staring at his lips in fear of indecent thoughts. This current proximity and shared heat were not helping. His hands were somehow on your shoulders. Probably to steady himself. Or something else. You weren’t sure.

Jungkook stared at your lips.

You didn’t back away.

He leaned down and kissed you.

He must be an idiot to put you both in this position again. You must be an idiot too, because you kissed him back. Fuck it. Your hand on his chest relaxed, fingers spreading out, pressing your lips to his, breathing him in. He still used the same cologne you had complimented on back then. It made you smile into his lips. His tense hands on your shoulders fluttered, one slipping down to your upper arm, the other grazing your neck. His thumb brushing the side of your cheek. His other fingers weaving into your hair, tilting his head slightly. No promises, but.

A dream made.

You tapped his chest, forcing him to break the connection.

“W… What?” Jungkook gasped, his short breath mixing into yours.

“Not… Not here,” you chuckled, feeling your racing pulse in your throat. “I think we’ve done enough public reconciliation. Adding public indecency is not it. Someone is going to recognize you soon.”

Those shadowed eyes watching you were telling you he was ready to risk it.

“No,” you gritted, punching his chest lightly. Surprisingly, Jungkook did not budge and held on very strongly to your arm. “Stop that. Stop it with the sex eyes.”

He grinned. You could tell from the way his eyes crinkled. “Is it working?”

You pried yourself from him with some effort.

“All you’re telling me is that you really like handcuffs.”

“Promise?”

You straightened your clothes and answered absentmindedly. “Promise what?” You looked up to give him an indignant expression. He took your purchases to place them in the back of his motorcycle, giving you no verbal response.

Just a sneaky smirk in return.

-

“What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Uh…”

Before he could make another sound, you grabbed Jeon Jungkook by the collar and dragged him to you.

It was different.

Just not in the way you thought it would be.

Part of you thought to hold back. Build a solid foundation to see if this would work. Talk for a long while, move slow, step by recommended step. Then again, if you actually believed that, you would have instructed him to take you back to your apartment. Maybe send him off with a kiss and a pat on the head. You know. The complete opposite of shoving him up against his living room wall and tracing your tongue over his moaning lips with his hands gripping your waist. If this was going to work, it was always going to work. It didn’t matter if it was the wrong way or the right way.

This love was either going down in a blaze of glory or start an everlasting fire.

Might as well get on the ride.

You let him kiss down your neck, your hands sliding down to his. Interlocking fingers. Shivering at the sensation of his lips in your skin, familiar and new. Body-to-body. You pulled up his hands to force him to lose the top layers, including the beanie, exposing his toned chest and gleaming tattoos going from his right hand to his shoulder. His hoodie and t-shirt fell to the floor in a soft thump. His hair was different than when you had last seen him. Sides shaven, the top still long, messy black waves due to being crammed into the beanie. He flicked his head back, sending black strands all over his half-moon eyes, glistening pink lips parted in a soundless gasp.

You took his wrists and pinned Jungkook to the wall.

Panting, watching him under you despite looking upwards.

“W… What?” he breathed, locked in your transfixed stare.

It was different, yet it was the same. You could feel it. There could have been many others between the last time and right now. You knew there wasn’t. It was both sad and validating, because you knew how much he hated being alone, but now you knew there was truth to those promises he had said to you between sheets and pillows.

You leaned down and licked a wet, fat stripe over his chest, dripping saliva all over him.

Jungkook moaned, leaning his head against the wall.

“You belong to me,” you whispered over his heart. Raised your head and he was looking back at you.

Only you.

“I belong to you,” he whispered back.

You skimmed your lips over his skin.

“Prove it to me.”

He surrendered.

To your tongue, tracing patterns over his collarbones. To your lips, dotting kisses and making him flinch, whining for more. To your hands, holding him down and at your mercy, exploring him with sight, touch, and taste. You let go of one of his wrists to trail your nails over his abdomen, observing the way his body rippled, lifting towards you as sensitivity increased. You let your fingers wander, around his waist and into shaded territory, running your nails down his spine, watching his reaction. His head tilted back, hair in wisps around his temples, dark eyes clouded in lust.

Your name slipped from his lips.

You dug your nails into his lower back and pulled yourself up, unable to keep the side of your lips from curving upwards at his delicious whines.

“Take off my blouse.”

His fingertips slid across the slinky maroon fabric. Button by button, the fabric began to unravel in his hands, your forehead to his as he did so. You took his breath, tracing his muscles, murmuring his name just to feel him shiver as he heard it.

“I never had anyone else after you,” he mumbled, circling one of the buttons with his thumb. “I couldn’t.”

“You could have,” you hummed. “You were a free man.”

Jungkook undid the last button and stared into your eyes.

“No, I’m not.”

You half-smiled. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

He leaned in again, brushing your lips with his.

“I belong to you.”

His touch, his kiss, the dance of mesmerizing senses. You stepped back. He followed. Tangled in each other, your blouse slipping off and dropping to the floor. Your bra unclasped, tumbling, his hands all over, places he had been a million times and desiring forevermore, squeezing your breasts with his hands, almost tripping over your skirt as you stepped out of it. His pants joined the trail of passion, and then his tongue was on you, lifting you in his arms and tasting your hard nipples with your hands in his hair, clutching his head for support with your legs around his waist.

“I’m going to fall,” you gasped, breathless.

“Over my dead body,” was the muffled answer with his face buried into your breasts. “Fuck, I love your ass.”

Perhaps to avoid death getting two for the price of one, Jungkook let you down, devouring you with kisses with your taste lingering on his lips, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You curled your tongue against his, making him moan, hips grinding against hips, feeling his insistent hardness against your softness, trapping himself between your legs. You were still in your panties and he was still in his boxer briefs, although the thin fabrics were merely a nuisance to the inevitable.

“Jungkook…”

He was thrusting into you and jamming his cock in between your thighs, his strong arms wrapped around you and his teeth on your shoulder. You hummed, torn between telling him off and enjoying the feeling of his arousal swelling between your legs, but it was he who gasped and threw his head back, his hard length twitching against your clothed pussy.

“You ready to include me in this?” you questioned, amused.

“S-Sorry… Can’t help myself…”

Somehow, by instinct and minor effort, you were both in his bedroom now. The familiar bed you had once called yours, remembering the future dreamed upon those white sheets. Jungkook pulled you to them, calling you to the paradise that could only be created between two. Don’t, was your meek protest as he pulled down your panties and kneaded your thighs, shaking his head, I don’t care, and his tongue slid over your heat. Wet, dripping, your sweet taste and his saliva. He moaned between your legs, decorating you with kisses before sliding his tongue over you, drinking you desperately, you taste so fucking good, fuck, and your fingers buried into the sheets. He remembered everything you liked. Steady, soft licks, then harder when your legs tensed, tipping his head to bring his lips around your clit, drenching his chin with your wetness.

His hands turned and slipped under your legs, dragging you to his face by your ass.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook…”

You reached down and gripped his hair as you came on his face, his muffled gasp of surprise drowned out by the moan produced through your arched back and prolonged euphoria. Fuck. Fuck, it hadn’t been evident how much you missed this, no, him, your knuckles against the crown of his head, his hot tongue all over, his fingers locked onto your ass, even the way his nose brushed against your oversensitive clit as he thrust his tongue into your pussy, triggering another wave of pleasure, sparking electricity that burned through your veins.

His.

He pulled himself up with a groan, his mouth all over your body. Leaving bites, kisses, licks in his lustful wake. Your nails dug into his shoulder and he made that whimper you loved, obviously wanting more, and so you clawed his upper back as he pretended to resist you, refusing to move higher as he sucked on your nipples, gazing at you under half-lidded eyes, rubbing your other nipple between his fingers.

“Take it,” you growled under your breath.

He did, rubbing his hard, neglected cock against your thigh, denying himself longer.

Over time, you had hesitated to do such things. Jungkook had gotten in trouble before for being marked up. After all, his body was his selling point, and booking back-to-back shoots with poor choices in between ended up in humiliation. Unjustly so, perhaps, but you never did it again. Maybe you should have been more considerate this time too, but, no, that wasn’t what he was asking for.

He wanted the consequences of you.

He brought his face close to yours, your orgasm still on his breath.

“Mark me,” Jungkook demanded, his voice low and deep and gravelly. “I’m yours.”

So you did.

Hickeys on his perfect neck, sharp nails over his ass as you pushed down his underwear, adorning him with fierce, vicious passion that bruised him. He kissed your forehead, buried his fingers in your hair, and pinned you to him, pre-cum dripping onto your hip as he kicked off his restraints, pressing his hardness to you.

“You’ll get in trouble,” you warned even though the damage was already done.

“I don’t care,” he retorted, his thigh rubbing against your still-wet pussy. “I don’t care if I have to cancel the rest of the week. I don’t care if I never work in the modeling industry again. The only thing I care about is making sure you always know how much I love you.”

You froze, your lips above the inked floral mandala on his right shoulder.

“I should have made time.”

His arms drew up and encircled your head, his lips against the crown.

“I’m so, so sorry for not realizing how disrespectful I was to you. And I won’t do it again,” he murmured, leaving kisses intertwined with your hair. “I promise.”

“I…”

You reached up and held his shoulders, anchored despite the turbulence of an emotional sea.

“I missed being by your side, Jungkook.”

If his hard dick wasn’t literally throbbing against your hip, you might have cried.

You reached down and touched him.

“Ah!”

“Woah.” Your arm hooked around his waist as your hand enclosed around his girth. “I’m just making sure he’s keeping interest even during this emotional breakthrough.”

His cheeks flushed as he realized he had chosen his moment with possibly suboptimal timing. He didn’t have to worry. His body seemed to recognize your hand right away. You could feel the way his cock eagerly twitched on your palm. You cocked an eyebrow. He gave you a the-fuck-you-expect look, and you curled two fingers around his balls, lightly massaging with the pads of your fingers, simulating your tongue. He gasped, gripping your shoulders.

You leaned down and spit in your hand.

“F-Fuck!”

You backed up and slowly, leisurely, spread the slippery saliva all over his cock, letting him adjust his knees to give you a better positioning. Your other arm had moved behind you, lifting your torso up as you jacked him off. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands, foreign objects in his possession before his eye line drifted down. Down. His fingers trailed over your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples as you increased the pace.

“Handcuffs could come in handy right now,” you commented.

He glared at you.

“S… Shut up.”

His cock had throbbed at the suggestion though.

You tilted your head, watching his breathing quicken as you applied the pressure where he liked it, the same pulse every time, not too fast and not too slow, building the frustration with a smile.

His face tensed.

Faster. A little tighter. Your thumb rubbed just under the base of the head with every ascent. He placed his palms against your hard nipples and you felt the familiar snap of his hips, leaning into your hand, his eyelashes fluttering, and for a brief moment you considered stopping.

Then again, these weren’t your sheets.

He gasped out your name and shot all over your stomach and thigh.

Hot, thick cum splattered onto your skin, making you suck in a breath as you felt it, saw it, smelled it, intense and strong and all over you. You were lucky it was on the thicker side, white streaks sticking to your body rather than running off. A painting of perverse proportions. Jungkook stared at his work, still semi-hard in your hand, clearly turned on by the sight. You sent him a questioning look.

“What now?”

Then he shocked you, and probably himself, by diving down and running his warm tongue over your cum-covered skin.

“Oh, what–”

Instant burning tingles spread throughout your nerves at the contact, vibrating through to your core, dripping as you witnessed the milky white coat his tongue. Your hand touched his shoulder, drawing him up, and he was tamed by your gesture, rising, his lips smeared with his release, and you drew closer to the heavy scent, to him. Lips to lips. Drank it from his mouth, swallowing the mixture of saliva and orgasm. Your tongue tangled in his, his fingers in between your legs again, thrusting two fingers into you, following the pull you had on him. Deep, slow, faster as the kiss grew more intense, breath to consumed breath, rolling your hips up into his hand, tightening around him, and Jungkook moaned, getting harder in your hand as your slick arousal drenched his.

“Condom?”

They spilled over the bed in his haste.

You were pleased to see it was the same brand you usually enjoyed. There wasn’t much to be read into that, though, because they had become his favorite as well per your introduction. You wondered if there would be a second first-time awkwardness and you were immediately proven wrong from the desperate and experienced way Jungkook dragged your ass to line up his dick. There was no time to be anxious, it seemed.

“You’ve acting like you’ve never had me before,” you teased.

Those dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like you don’t have the tightest, most perfect pussy I’ve ever been in.”

You half-shrugged. “Things could change.”

He slid in and clenched his jaw.

“You liar.”

You smirked and closed in around his length.

“F-Fuuuuuuuck me…”

You could have probably kept it up if it wasn’t for how fucking good he felt inside you. Just the right girth, and he lifted your legs, deeper, gasping, reaching the depth you liked. Your thighs against his chest. You locked eyes. Jungkook cocked an eyebrow with a familiar smirk. The corner of your lips ticked upward, and the rough, powerful pace began, your hand gripping his tattooed forearm and the other the sheets, losing yourself to the pleasure, pressed between the mattress and his hard body. His eyes closed, your lashes fluttering, witnessing glimpses of bliss, whispers of sweet nonsense lost between moans, leaning your head back onto his pillows, sinking into his scent.

Belonging to him.

His hair flicked sweat onto your chest. Your hand on the bed bent back and shoved the pillows down, using the leverage to lift your hips to his thrust, moaning at the visceral sound of slapping hips, wet and loud and vibrating throughout the room.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he panted out between gasps. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You tried to deliver a compliment back but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Your orgasm abruptly interrupted any coherent though, forcing you to bury your head back and endure the vice-grip of wanton delirium, barely able to gasp out his name as the hot wave dragged you under, your inner walls viciously pulsing all around his length. You heard Jungkook groan and attempt to say something, probably how much he enjoyed feeling your orgasm, he had done so before, however he seemed to be in his own dilemma as well, clenching his jaw and snapping his head down, the muscles of his chest taut and tense, and, in your intoxicated haze, you realized he was attempting not to follow, but.

“Fuck!”

He slammed his cock into you and cursed, throwing his head back as you felt the jerk of his cock spilling into the condom, trapped in your tightness, dragged into the kind of fever that couldn’t be sweat out, sinking down, down.

You stilled, suspended in bliss.

It was a little easier to breathe now. You missed this. Him, specifically. The sex you had together, carnal and intense and unparalleled. Closed your eyes, breathing hard, feeling the familiarity of Jungkook on top of you, spent, sweaty, frantic for round two. He didn’t like stopping if he could help it. It was one of his best traits. You felt him lower your legs carefully, backing out of you with a hiss.

Then you heard a wet, dirty sound.

You opened one eye.

He was staring at your body.

Running his fingers over his still-hard cock, bringing it back to full hardness.

“Let me look at you.”

You hummed. “You’re only seeing one side.”

His dark eyes shifted up to yours.

“Okay. Turn over.”

Desire turned his voice deeper, huskier.

With a sly smile, you rolled over, and scooted onto your knees, spreading your ass for him. You heard him suck in a breath, that’s so fucking sexy, and you flexed, letting him watch, entrancing him with the visual and the obvious sound of your wetness.

“Every part of you is perfect.” You could hear him jacking himself off, hard and fast. “Fucking perfect.”

“I feel that your judgement is clouded right now,” you answered back, muffled by his pillows in your face.

You heard the ripping sound and then a groan as he rolled down the condom. Then his strong hands grabbed your hips, prompting you to let go, and he sank into you.

“Fuck no, it’s not,” he gasped, picking you up by the hips to fully sheath himself. You managed to pull a pillow to your chest to allow ample breathing room. “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can satisfy me.”

You made your pussy tighten around him and he moaned again, his hot breath washing down your spine.

“Then let me satisfy you,” you purred, leaning back into him.

Your ass met his crotch in a loud, gratifying smack, easily locking into a rhythm you both enjoyed. Hard, aggressive, powerful, not holding back, you lifting a hand to extend back, and he caught your forearm, thrusting deeply as he held onto you. All of his power was directed below, the grip on your arm simply a symbol of possession, forcing you to lift your head and arch your back, adjusting to that more fruitful angle, sending heat all throughout your blood and nerves, the tension building, louder, harder, more.

He let you go, and you bucked back against him.

Moaned your name, delicious and desperate, begging you.

It was hard to count your orgasms. They seemed to blend into one another, entangled with the passion and the beat, not wanting to stop even as you struggled to breathe, clutching the pillow so hard that you could still feel your nails digging into your palm. The lust searing and yet not enough, chasing more, wanting more, wanting him, only him, your only, the one that belonged to you.

Your head tipped back, seeing only fragments of your surroundings, your hair a mess over your face.

“Jungkook, I love you,” you gasped.

You felt his hips flinch and he moaned your name, long and drawn-out, his hard cock jolting inside you, gripping your hips so tightly you probably had imprints of his fingertips. There was a flurry of expletives and panting. The haze of inexplicable euphoria settling, unavoidable and desired. You closed your eyes, savoring his release, feeling the radiating vibrations of his high pour into you as he slid down, his hot hands over your back, his shuddering exhales warming your shoulder blades.

Sweat, in small shivering droplets, sprinkled onto your skin.

“I love you too.”

He pressed his fingertips into your rising and falling body, touching you all over, confessing to your racing heart beneath his lips.

“I love you so fucking much.”

-

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, totally.”

You turned your head to see Jungkook staring at your tits. You tucked a knuckle under his chin and forced it up. He gave you the big-peepers-in-headlights look.

“Huh?”

“Are you sure about this?” you repeated once more.

He gave you a confused look. “Yeah. I thought we talked about it?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me, but I’m not sure how much I can trust a discussion we were having with you balls deep inside me.”

“Eh?” His lower lip upturned. “Why not?”

You rubbed your temple with two fingers. “Why not, hah…”

“I meant it.”

You pulled one of his pillows over your naked chest so he could focus. You weren’t even sure why he had these. Jungkook slept on one of those stiff cylindrical pillows that was supposedly more comfortable. You weren’t too sure about how good that was for his neck, but sometimes you just have to accept the strangeness of your significant other. He must have kept these for the look of a nicely made bed. Or for moments like this. His eyes went back to your face again, reluctantly. He seemed a little disappointed.

“You don’t think I meant it?”

You saw his eyes were drifting to your thighs now. “It’s not really that…” You considered it. “It’s more… Well, we’ve tried already, you know. Aren’t you afraid it’ll happen again?”

His gaze shifted. You waited, letting him collect his thoughts.

“Afraid?” You saw him reflect the past and the mistakes. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. I’m definitely going to change from how I was before. I can see how my work-life balance was shit, as both a friend and boyfriend. I don’t want to go back to that either,” Jungkook mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it now. I can’t get time back. I was stupid, thinking me overworking myself wouldn’t drive you away, you know, we would have so much more time later… I went about it the worst way. I didn’t even discuss it with you. That was just me being selfish, and that selfishness made me insecure… I don’t want that anymore. I promise you that.” He shook his head and looked up at you guiltily. “Still… I can’t promise I won’t fuck up in some other way. And that scares me. But I have to act, even if I’m scared. Even if your final answer is, let’s not see each other anymore, at least I will have honestly given you my all this time, because you are it for me.”

You shook your head too. “There could be someone out there for you that is a lot more suitable than me. The world is the big place.”

He frowned, exasperated. “No. No, you don’t get it.” He placed a hand on your knee and looked into your eyes. “You are it for me. The world is big place, but my world is right here.” He poked you and you laughed, startled at the suddenness. A smile burst onto his face, holding your knee down, trying to drive his point home over your mirth. “Hey! Hey. I really meant it. All of it.”

You stopped laughing.

Somehow one of your hands was covering his now, feeling his warmth and hard knuckles in your palm.

“I belong to you,” Jungkook repeated, his own I love you. “I can’t love anyone else like how I love you. I don’t care if you believe me or not. Even if you leave me, sure, I might find someone to not be lonely with, but I will only belong to you.”

You held onto his hand, curling your fingers into his palm. “You…” This man was crazy, saying things like this. He affectionately squeezed your knee, flashing that killer smile of his.

“So… Yeah, I’m sure.”

He pulled his hand from under yours and touched your cheek, his knuckles against your skin.

“I’ll go along with whatever you choose.”

Truth was, you had already chosen.

“I’ll do my best too,” you murmured quietly, holding the pillow tightly. “I won’t let myself be complacent anymore.”

From the look in his eyes, you saw that Jungkook recognized that it had become an unintentional consequence of his actions. He smiled, still stroking your cheek.

“Yeah. Let’s be a team this time.”

You nodded, smiling back.

An extended silence of staring into each other’s eyes.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Are you just imagining rubbing your dick on my cheek?”

His rough fingertips grazed over your jaw. “Yeah,” he replied dreamily.

You smacked his hand.

“Ow!”

“Pay attention!”

“W-Wha, what?” He pouted. “What am I supposed to do!”

You grimaced, feigning annoyance but also not really. This guy. “No wonder we could only have serious talks in public or incarcerated…” you muttered.

“Ah, yeah, that reminds me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he twisted around and reached over to his phone, watching the ripple of his back muscles as he moved. Damn. This guy. He bounced back, messing about on the screen. You were too busy admiring the definition of his arms to notice, until.

“What kind of handcuffs should we buy?” Jungkook chirped, turning his phone to showing you the screen display of a sex goods webstore.

You blinked at him.

“What.”

And thus begun round two.

-

epilogue

“Hey- oh, wow.”

You stilled, surprised.

‘Oh, I thought you were going to meet me there?”

In your hand was your well-loved small black purse with a bow. Your other hand held the door open, seeing the tall form of Jeon Jungkook gawking at you in his matching denim jacket and jeans. Calvin Klein, the same brand as his white t-shirt under the jacket. That same brand was holding a lunch event today, except one of their attendees was blocking your path, open-mouthed at your hips wrapped in a tight, pink gingham miniskirt with embroidered red strawberries. Then his stare went to your chest, to the emerald-green satin blouse that complimented the little green accents of the mini strawberries, although you suspected his interest was less in the color and more in the way the seams accentuated the curve of your breasts.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I… I left early. I wanted to pick you up,” he was saying absentmindedly.

You gestured to the black car waiting at the front. “I already ordered a car, though. I can’t ride with you on your bike in this skirt.”

“We can get in the car.” Jungkook’s eyes went back down. You knew he wasn’t admiring the delicate crisscross straps of your black velvet pumps. “Damn, your legs,” he mumbled.

The driver of the car was about to watch a live-action porno if you didn’t take action. You set the alarm and lock before stepping out. Immediately, Jungkook’s hand raised, as did his gaze. You looked from the tattooed hand to his face. He grinned, creating sparkles in his big dark brown eyes.

“I ran off, hehe. I just wanted to personally accompany my darling,” he admitted. “Hopefully no one noticed.”

You fitted your hand in his, letting him lead you. “You’re too handsome not to notice. What a troublemaker,” you joked, pleased at his rebellion.

“Your troublemaker now. Where are we eating?”

“There’s a French themed café near some shops. After, could we stop by the tea shop? My dad has a request I need to fulfill.”

“Ooo, I love adventures with my future wife.”

You gave him a curious smirk. His mischievous grin just kept getting bigger, that underlip mole suddenly visible like a secret wink. He had been dropping such hints lately. You pretended to gloss over it even though the discussion of dream rings had already happened months ago. You reached out to open the car door and Jungkook impatiently nudged your hand away, doing it for you so you could enter easily in your heels. It was a very nice thing to do.

Taehyung probably grilled such behaviors into him. Not that you were complaining, of course.

You confirmed the destination with the driver as Jungkook got in the car from the other side, taking care to hook his sunglasses on the front of his shirt. You heard his phone vibrate. You turned your head to see him snickering at it.

“Taehyungie’s mad that I left him alone.”

“Whoops.” You did feel a little bad.

He waved a hand, tongue in cheek. “He’ll get over it.”

Your eyes met.

He had such beautiful, expressive eyes that held the stars every time he saw you.

“You sure?” you asked quietly.

Jungkook reached over and stroked your cheek with a smile.

“I’m sure I want to eat lunch with my future wife, yup. Then I’ll buy tea for her dad so I can get on his good side.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a sweet master plan.”

His black hair loosely styled over his forehead made him look younger. You knew better. Perhaps grown was not the word for it, but you could tell he was becoming more and more of the man he wanted to be every day. Attending events with Jungkook was different these days; he checked on you throughout the night, actively included you in conversations, and even introduced you to people he thought you might enjoy talking to, now to the point that familiar faces would come up to you first before they recognized him. But what was more important was this – arranging quality time to spend together, more communication, and obvious commitment. The pleasant surprise not being flowers or sweets or other material things, and instead his presence earlier than expected.

His laugh at night.

His forehead kiss in the morning, even if you were half-awake in bed.

His silly photos of fogging up a makeup artist’s mirror with his breath and drawing a heart with your name inside it.

He still had a hectic schedule, but now you and him knew when enough was enough. You could finally talk about it before either of you became too stressed out or lonely by it. That improvement was worth that entire roller coaster to get here.

You smiled.

He smiled back, his knee touching yours.

He was still stroking your cheek.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking right now?”

He didn’t respond right away. He just adjusted his legs suspiciously and gave you his most innocent look that indicated he was most certainly guilty.

“Eh?”

You took him by the wrist and slowly lowered it before the driver could notice your partner-in-crime’s suspicious behavior. He pouted at you. The tent in his pants twitched. You cocked an eyebrow. Then you remembered something.

“Oh, by the way.”

He perked up. “What is it?”

You unzipped your purse a little bit and flashed the edge of shiny silver metal and chain.

“I borrowed something from a friend.”

Jungkook looked down.

Odd that it took him more than a moment to recognize handcuffs, considering that he – and you – had so much prior experience with them. His eyes went wide once it clicked. His cheeks flushed red. You smirked and rezipped your bag.

“What the fu–”

fin.

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

inspired by taylor swift's imgonnagetyouback :)

--

masterpost

[stilljuststardust]

I fear I'm not practicing the LOA "right" and i'm so anxious. I keep thinking "what if all my persistence is useless because i'm not practicing the LOA right?" I can't tell if I'm truly partaking in imagination or just simply daydreaming. My understanding of the concept of "daydreaming" and "imagination" seems to have no clear distinct difference. Maybe I'm spiralling, but I feel like a fraud and can't seem to have faith in my own abilities. I continue to doubt everything because I wonder "does not feeling fulfilled in imagination mean my 4D has not shifted because I don't understand I have it?"

Is it okay to not feel anything or even feel bad towards your desires but still understand you have it and actually shift realities?

Take a deep breath.

You are going to be ok. There is nothing wrong with you. You are safe. You are stronger than you think. I believe in you. Not feeling anything is OK.

I have a laptop I manifested sitting next to me right now. I didn't feel anything when I was manifesting it and I don't feel like I have it even though it's physically here right now.

Please don't be so mean to yourself. You're going to be ok

Disclaimer: This may be controversial because people have really been shitting on affirmations lately, so let me first say that all methods work. This is just my personal experience. I understand that some of you will disagree with this post, that's OK. Please respect that everyone has their own beliefs.

Emotions don't matter

I normally put links at the end but you should really read this: it's ok to feel like shit

I know you're very stressed out, I am also a very anxious person. Please know that hurting deeply doesn't mean you can't manifest.

Feeling is not what manifests. For a long time I ran in circles because I was trying to force my emotions to conform.

I am a very anxious person sometimes bordering on paranoid. If my reality was solely dependent on what I felt like was happening a girl with long hair would be crawling out of my TV right now.

The truth is emotions are fickle. Trying to force an extremely positive emotional state will most likely just make you hurt more.

Often the most painful part of suffering is our constant attempt to suppress it instead of processing the emotion.

We are not our feelings. We are often subject to dramatic and irrational emotional states that don't reflect our actual thoughts and opinions.

"I feel awful and I don't like how often I'm feeling it" often leads us into thinking "nothing is ever going to work for me", but it's important to ground ourselves and realize that feeling like shit is not divine undeniable proof that it isn't going to work.

So what does manifest?

Your dominant thoughts and mental state.

The thoughts you repeat over and over and over. Your subconscious listens to everything you tell it and it takes you at face value every single time. If you repeat something to your subconscious it will push that experience into your reality.

You ARE manifesting, just not what you want.

I'm guessing your most common thoughts right now sound something like this:

"why isn't it working" "what am I doing wrong" "why can't I get this right"

THAT is what is manifesting right now.

It's not about feeling like you have it, it's about thinking thoughts that imply you do.

So what's the whole deal with the 4D 3D thing? Those are just buzzwords that mean your internal and external world. Your internal world manifests. What part of your internal world is constant? Your thoughts. You may not be visualizing or mediating all day but you ARE thinking all day every single day. (visualization and mediation still do work, I'm not discrediting those methods. Your mental images are still thoughts)

What now? (What I think you should do)

I want you to try robotic affirmations. There is literally no way to do them wrong. They don't require feeling or belief. its ok if repeating them feels wrong.

This is all you have to do:

All of your thoughts and words are affirmations so don't affirm against your desire. I know these are often very very habitual. That's ok, you just need to break the habit. Flip the thought or start affirming.

Repeat thoughts that imply it has manifested. It's best if it's in your own words. What would you say if it his happened? Now repeat that sentence whenever possible. Whenever you are doing something that is boring like a chore or showering instead of letting your mind water repeat your affirmation.

Don't try to feel it or imagine it, just repeat the sentence. That's why they're called robotic. There's nothing else to do but repeat them. Hopefully this gives you less to worry about.

LINKSSSS:

How to break a thought pattern

Affirm and persist

Do I have to believe?

Robotic affirmations

Please please please watch this.

[amberarmedheart]

In Defense of John Watson and the Importance of the Besotted Narrator

Every couple of years, the world as a collective likes to ruminate and come up with a new adaptation of the stories of Sherlock Holmes, every single new one promising to be either "The Ultimate Adaptation" or "Holmes for the New Era", there is no in-between. And it is understandable, this amazement and awe we hold for the beloved mysteries, they are classics for a reason.

And despite that, time and again I see creators of tv shows, pastiches, and movies, neglect the most important aspect in every single Sherlock Holmes' story: the immovable presence of John Watson. Some even going as far as turning Watson into a villain, a caricature of himself, or even erasing him completely from the narrative. "After all, the important one is Holmes, isn't he? He is the genius, and Watson is there just his biographer."

That is the capital omission to me when it comes to any of the adaptations, because it ignores the vital part that Watson plays in Holmes' life. Watson is the companion, he is the bridge between the "normal" world and the genius that is Holmes' deductive brain. He is, for a lack of a better descriptor, the translator between what jumps in judgement and reasoning Holmes' brilliant mind comes up with, and the layman's language.

There is a reason why we as readers come up with the idea that Holmes is smart beyond his quirks and his drug addiction, beyond his ignorance of anything and everything that in his opinion doesn't help him solve the cases that distract him from the boredom of normal life... and that reason is that John Watson is the person narrating the whole thing. We are not introduced to Holmes through an omnipresent, anonymous narrator which is the case with other books. We are thrown in the middle of a mystery from the start the same way that Watson is unexpectedly thrown in 221b.

What we think of Holmes, what we feel for him, it is all because Watson wishes us to experience. The stories themselves carry with them one of the best storytelling devices graciously blended into the narrative, which is the fact that Watson is an incredibly good writer, so much that the public gazes into the spotlight where Holmes is and in most cases ignores that the one shining it down is Watson himself.

Creators who like to ignore Watson and his function in the narrative tend to see Holmes as their own self-insert: a super smart man whose genius cannot compare with the mediocre world population and who can barely tolerate their stupidity, basically a gift to men from god and who has to be worshipped for it... When the reality is that every single thing we perceive from Holmes is because of how Watson sees him.

Watson is our unreliable narrator, his descriptions and impressions of Holmes are the ones that are weaved into the story; even goes as far as giving us a glimpse of Holmes' opinion about it through the way the consultant detective sometimes accuses Watson of adding too many embellishments to his narrations. If we see Holmes as an incredible genius, as someone whose intelligence is above the rest of the world, it is because Watson says so. With every passing story, we come across different characters that every once in a while whose first impression of Holmes has been influenced by what they themselves read in Watson's stories... All in all, the in-universe characters falling under the same influence we, as readers, are.

John Watson's love for Holmes is one of the main plot points in the story, we see its evolution the same way as one normally goes through different stages of falling in love. We see Watson's first infatuation, his interest in what makes Holmes what he is, first in a superficial way and later on with every new story. We see them have misunderstandings, which most of the time end up in a deeper appreciation of Holmes as a person.

All culminating in the incredible rendition of The Final Problem, which could easily be seen, without little effort, as Holmes' planning his own death. By what means we are never completely sure, to be honest, since we can only see it through Watson's deep grief. It is true that Arthur Conan Doyle's plans were to end Holmes' adventures with the short story, but even with the author's motivations being the main recourse behind its inception, there is no doubt when reading the story that the focus of the narrative is Holmes' spending his last moments with Watson.

The subsequent creation of The Empty House and further adventures after that, diluted partially the importance of the whole ordeal, but gave us a different insight of Holmes and Watson's relationship. Through that lens, we as readers witness the evolution of it, the toll that Holmes' fake death had in both his biographer and his own author, adding depth through the strain put by the facade.

E. W. Hornung made one of my favorite homages to Holmes and Watson through his stories of The Gentleman Thief, and put a greater emphasis on the strained relationship between the two characters after the fake death. He gave his besotted narrator another source of turmoil: the fact that while Raffles (our stand-in Holmes) was away living life and even having a romantic interest, Bunny (his Watson) ends up falling in disgrace after being sent to jail.

A.J. Raffles' stories lean on the importance of the unreliable, uselessly enamored narrator, to the point that Hornung didn't shy away from having Bunny refer to Raffles as handsome and attractive in many different instances. He understood how there is no Holmes without a Watson to appreciate him, how their dynamic is the fuel behind the success of the whole series.

And ultimately, that it is impossible to have a good story without a good storyteller.

[sepublic]

            I also wanted to discuss this as its own post because it’s the only question from the Gallery Nucleus Q&A I can find an actual video source on, but in regards to whether there would’ve been a Wittebane flashback in the show, had there been no shortening? None whatsoever, according to Dana herself; On account of A) Not wanting the audience to think Belos is in any way sympathetic, and B) Wanting to preserve the mystery of what exactly happened, because she thinks it plays into the horror vibes better. There definitely would’ve been more than what we got in canon, but not a full backstory.

            Can I say, what a relief to have actual confirmation, in one way or the other? With that in mind, I get Dana; That’s a pretty fair takeaway! Considering who Belos represents, it’s fine to not want viewers trying to think of him as understandable in any way, when we have sycophants in the media playing devil’s advocate for the current men in office; Sometimes ya gotta be firm, and if this is the writers’ way of conveying their point, so be it!

            Dana obviously didn’t want to portray Belos as evil since birth just from the memory portraits, and the overall themes of the story; But she didn’t want viewers to think Belos is sympathetic just because he wasn’t born evil, which is what you can say about every person in history, good and bad. And while I do consider that the writers made a mistake by including Hunter in the show at all, it seems Dana was at least wary about fans obsessing over those other white guys Belos and Caleb, which I’m really grateful for in hindsight; She didn’t want to feed the beast there.

            To go on a tangent, the second reason also makes me think of how the Star Wars films, which stand on their own, never really explained why Palpatine was like that, and they didn’t need to when the mechanics of the world and reality provided enough; And with Belos, we know a lot more about his background, AND he’s more humanized! The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise was all the story needed, and the mystery does add a layer of horror.

            Of course, certain people are freaking out over this revelation, so let me bring up this one popular Tumblr post going around, about how it’s important to humanize villains so the viewer can reflect on the capacity for evil of anyone, including themselves; With a very popular addition to that post being that humanizing a villain isn’t necessarily the same as sympathizing with them. The former is all Dana and the writers did, and frankly it’s all they needed to do.

            We’ve seen Luz and Lilith’s ability to fall for a cult under the promise of belonging, King feeling tough from destroying his enemies, the Collector’s possessive love. There’s plenty of good faith examples of hurting people because characters thought it was for the better, and Belos provides an example of bad faith, in addition to the show emphasizing character beats exclusive to him; The colonial white supremacist. The so-called critics aren’t really asking for what they say they are, because really, the complaints boil down not to the fact that Belos wasn’t humanized, it’s that the narrative didn’t sympathize with… a genocidal white supremacist?????

            I remember seeing Belos fans claim that the crew wrote him “differently” in S3, that they made him less sympathetic, which is silly to me not just because S3 Belos is the same guy as S2, but mask-off and in the midst of his villainous breakdown.

            But S3 was where the writers established that he was an orphan, that he wears his brother’s coat, that contrary to S2’s presentation, he DOES somehow feel guilt over the brother and Grimwalkers he murdered, and it’s an interesting contrast to his apparent apathy at the end of Hollow Mind!

            But it’s also not mutually exclusive from his prior-established enjoyment of hurting the Grimwalkers, because abusers can have mixed feelings about their abuse but still do it anyway because they ultimately still thrive on it. It doesn’t make Belos a good or tragic person, it just makes him human. The show doesn’t invite you to find him sympathetic for this, just condemn him more because of how pathetic it all is, it’s a realistic reaction based on how anyone would react to him IRL. There’s nothing different about Belos in the finale, it’s just a reminder of who he still is at his core, and being human doesn’t retroactively make committing genocide ‘complex’ because we’re all human, why does he get special credit for that?

            Again, I’ve seen some salty Belos stans claim that giving him a flashback was necessary to show how people can fall down that path, but again the show already did that. And amidst the discussion of good faith, the point with Belos specifically is that some people are just acting out of bad faith, and it’s why you can’t fix everyone, and that’s why we had the Collector’s hug fail. Because if you orchestrate genocide, then you’ve given up any claims of acting in good faith. Everyone has the capacity for evil, but realistically, it comes to some people a lot more easily than others; Even so, Boscha was a bully with no reason for it, but she still matured! And I see nothing wrong in this day and age of showing that a PoC has every right to kill a white supremacist who’d already murdered her. I swear it feels like people think belittling or hating on victims makes them subversive and not just stupid.

[jewishconvertthings]

I can't remember if I've posted about this before, but tonight I was reminded by a class of a thing that I think may be helpful for some folks.

Because converting is *so* permanent and irreversible, and one should take it at least as seriously as entering a marriage (with the understanding that there is no divorce, only alienation), I think it's honestly a good idea to wait until you've had a major fight with your Judaism before you complete your conversion.

It's the same principle as wanting to wait until you've been sick with the flu together or had a major life setback or are lost at 2 a.m. on a road trip with your fiance before you actually get married. In that case, you want to know (1) what does this scenario bring out in them? (2) what does this scenario bring out in you? (3) how do those things interact with each other? and, most importantly: (4) how do you resolve it together?

With Judaism, it's easy to fall in love with Torah. It's easy to fall in love with an idealized version of your community. With the rituals and the liturgy and the music and the ruach.

It's harder to learn a point of halacha that hurts deeply and to be forced to reconcile what you know in your bones is right with the reality of the words of Torah and its interpretation by the rabbis. It's harder to meet your congregation in love and tochecha when they have fallen short of their vision and failed you in important ways. It's harder to force yourself to engage in mitzvot that you don't see the point in or that are boring or repetitious or do not spark joy.

And until you know how you will react when (not if) that happens, until you know how you will resolve it - or if you will even want to - you aren't ready to commit to something you can't just take off.

Sometimes it sucks to be a Jew. Sometimes Torah is more yoke than honey. Sometimes you're just not feeling it. And that's okay! That doesn't make you an imposter or a bad Jew; it makes you human. But you still need to address it, because that day will come.

I love being Jewish with all my heart, but there are parts of Torah that are like a knife in my soul. For me, the way I resolve it, is that those things in particular are the shards my neshama was sent to liberate the sparks from. We live in a broken, unredeemed world, and sometimes you should feel that, acutely. That is part of being a Jew, that you are sensitized to the world and its suffering. But it should still, in the end, lift you up. It should not break you, and you should not have to cut off major pieces of yourself to fit the role. Hitting that wall and feeling that pain before you immerse in the mikvah can really open your eyes to what kind of Jew you want to be - or if you actually want to carry this burden as well as taste its sweetness.

[creature-wizard]

Magical Correspondences 101

So I figured I should put all of my stuff on correspondences in one place for convenience's sake, since having them spread in a bunch of short posts isn't really helpful if I need to link them. Anyway, for those of you getting into magical correspondences, here's what I've got!

So, what are correspondences?

A lot of modern witchcraft operates on the belief that things like stones, plants, colors, and so on have certain metaphysical properties. Why do they have these properties? There are multiple explanations. Sometimes the properties are supposed to be innate. Sometimes they supposedly exist because the object in question is a symbol for something else. You'll find that many spells combine these two ideas, such as using an herb because of its inherent properties it's believed to have, then also using a flower because it's a symbol of a deity.

(Will it hurt anything to mix these concepts? Personally, I don't think so. Spiritual beliefs and metaphysical models are often messy, and occasionally contradict each other. I've never really seen it hurt anything.)

If you search around, you can easily find charts that describe various properties associated with various things. People sometimes assume that these properties were handed down to us from authorities who were so in tune with magic or the divine that they were basically infallible, and newbie witches just have no hope of figuring things out for themselves.

Fortunately, that's not really true!

Some correspondences are informed by nature. Others are social constructs.

You might see correspondence lists say that gold is associated with wealth, that apples are associated with love, and pink is associated with femininity. These are all social constructs that have nothing to do with the natural qualities of these things.

Other correspondences are informed by nature, however. Green is associated with life because healthy leaves are typically green. Hot peppers are associated with pain and torment because capsaicin produces a burning sensation.

(This isn't to say that social construct correspondences are all inherently bad, or even lesser. But it's good to be mindful of the differences, because it makes it easier to figure out what you can change and mess around with, and how!)

Even when correspondences are informed by nature, they can still be subjective.

The world is full of vastly different ecosystems, climates, and geological structures. Different regions have their own plants and animals. And even within your own region, you'll find that nature lends to many different correspondences for the same thing. Hot peppers might be orange or red, but so are many sweet fruits. Water can nurture life, or it can drown it.

Some people who acknowledge this will say that it's all about intent, but I personally believe it's a bit more about context. Just look at at the infamous children's hospital with the red path on the floor, and how the it creates an unnerving atmosphere despite whatever "positive connotations" red can have. I think if you're trying to figure out what to put in your spell, thinking contextually can help you make appropriate decisions.

In any case, I do think it's important to lean toward correspondences that have meaning to you. What some ancient guy who lived and died on the other side of the planet thought doesn't override your lived reality and your cultural experiences.

If you want to really learn correspondences, observe the world around you!

Correspondence lists can be good references, but they don't really help you develop a proper understanding. To do this, pay attention to plants, stones, colors, shapes, etc. and ask yourself:

Where do they turn up naturally?

How do they behave? What do they do?

Where and how do people use them, and what are they associated with in these contexts?

Where are things often grouped with other things? What is the significance of these groupings?

(If you keep a Book of Shadows or other magical journal, I recommend writing down your findings!)

So yeah, that's the basics on magical correspondences. They can look a little intimidating at first, but they're actually a lot more simple and straightforward than you might realize.

Happy witchin'!

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Harvest Moon in Pisces ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

The Full Harvest Moon, known also as the Singing Moon, was in Pisces on 18 September. It was a partial lunar eclipse and carried a massive Healer Archetype aenergy about it. After all, it was a supermoon in the sign of self-undoing and martyrdom :P It ushered in a deeply reflective time to ponder upon the suffering of Mankind in this all too often unfair world.

‘You’re not yourself when you’re triggered. You become who you think you need to be to survive. If we remain in environments that trigger our fight or flight mode, our identity starts to slip away because our values and personalities are constantly being hijacked by thoughts of fear, panic and survival.’ – some pin on Pinterest

It is unfortunate(?) but it is a significant part of Reality that each and every individual existing within this Matrix is suffering in their own wildly unique ways. Perhaps this is why the Buddha’s whole ass brand revolved around suffering—not to glamourise its concept but to maintain a semblance of awareness of its existence; and how that very thing alone shapes each person’s perception of Reality. Such an awareness...usually, breeds empathy. And that is precisely what this Full Singing Moon in Pisces theme is all about~🥰

‘When I was a novice, I could not understand why, if the world is filled with suffering, the Buddha has such a beautiful smile. Why isn’t he disturbed by all the suffering? Later I discovered that the Buddha has enough understanding, calm, and strength; that is why the suffering does not overwhelm him. He is able to smile to suffering because he knows how to take care of it and to help transform it. We need to be aware of the suffering, but retain our clarity, calmness, and strength so we can help transform the situation. The ocean of tears cannot drown us if karuna (compassion) is there. That is why the Buddha’s smile is possible.’ – Thich Nhat Hanh; excerpt from The Buddha’s Smile

SONG: Fine on the Outside by Priscilla Ahn

MOVIE: When Marnie Was There (2014)

deck-bottom: XVII The Star Rx, Red Historian (John Dee) & Priestess of Protection

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Deliciously Enjoying Your New-World-Building

e m p a t h y – 3 of Pentacles

There was a time, you built a world up from the ground, with people you thought were your people. Or at least, you thought you wanted to build a world around or with these people. But then you became disillusioned. You realised they were ungrateful, or perhaps, they didn’t quite see the world the way you did. What you thought they wanted similarly as you, in the end turned up to be quite the contrary. Then you realised the Universe had all along planned for y’all to grow differently~

Now you’re done with that old paradigm where you’d been too helpful towards those unworthy of your companionship, or even compassion. Facing forward, you now know that the most important thing is to surround yourself with people of similar ‘values’ and not just ‘goals’ or ‘ambitions’. Spiritual values go far deeper than just shared economy LOL ‘Corporate goals’ or whatever some such 3D-based nonsense. None of that interests you at this point in your spiritual evolution. You want something bigger, more awesome in meaning!

m e r c y – 5 of Cups

You’re still healing or just fresh out of spiritual rehab from this feeling of having lost people and whatnot. But it’s all good because, ‘The peace I have now is worth everything I’ve lost.’ If you’re truly honest with yourself, I’m sure you’re actually glad to have lost these losers. You know deep inside they would’ve never been able to survive what you’ve survived. In many ways, you also know these small minds were never destined for the greatness that you know is just around the corner for you~!

So I think, right now you’re still balancing your thoughts and emotions. There’s another quote that says: ‘Sometimes your heart needs some more time to accept what your mind already knows.’ And that perfectly captures the aenergy you’re currently swimming in. But look around—wow, isn’t it peaceful? The clouds are finally parting and your world is warm again <3

c o m m i s s a r y – 2 of Pentacles

After having gone through the mental struggle you’ve had to deal with, you’re stronger and fiercer in your capacity to deal with bullshit. I see that you’re quicker to deflect someone’s disrespectful behaviour and you’re not tolerating people acting out at the expense of your peace of mind anymore. Back in those days, you compromised so much of your own values to accommodate people’s ‘feelings’ but you’ve realised now that those very people often didn’t think about your feelings or how they’d put you in an awkward situation.

This FM in Pisces, you’re gaining a deeper layer of understanding of the mechanism of the crazies you’ve had to deal with up until fairly recently. I’ve this feeling that you’re dealing with the last remnants of those heartbreaks. You’re not going to ever deal with these thoughts and feelings anymore, so think about them for the last time and bid farewell for good~ From here onwards, you’re peacefully enjoying a new new-world-building without those crickets, so~ HAHAH <3

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Gold Astronomer (John Dee) & Priestess of Patience

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Done ‘Experimenting’ with Bullshit/Sorrow

e m p a t h y – Page of Wands

Oh, this is the ‘empathetic weirdo’ pile! You must be a Pisces in some way LMAO

This is a very strange aenergy in which you’ve been in this phase of ‘exposing’ yourself to bullshit and suffering in the grander scheme of the Human Experience. You’ve been ‘assuming’ this role of an experimenter or some such, exposing yourself to some degree of toxic experiences for ‘research purposes.’ It was imperative that you had firsthand experiences with various-but-specific kinds of bullshit surrounding this whole Matrix World, all so that you know how to dissolve them once and for all through the act of alchemical transmutation.

You’re a natural transmuter of ‘negative constructs of Reality’, believe it or not. The whole idea of your ‘little experiment’ was for you to have a hands-on experience with certain aspects of suffering within this Matrix, so that you’d be able to ‘vote down’ on qualities that you do not like. In this way, you may resonate with being a Blue-Ray Starseed or a Crystal/Rainbow Child of a Lightworker~

m e r c y – King of Pentacles

Yes, you’re a part of the board members that are able to give your ‘disagreement’ upon negative qualities that are commonplace in this Earth Matrix. The magical thing about your very existence here is that as long as you DISAGREE with something, anything that’s wrong/undesirable about this world, it immediately dissolves. Well, depends on what you’re disagreeing with, but eventually it all dissolves with your dislike and disagreement. You’re just that powerful, you capable but dehydrated bitch~ XD

If you’re ever interested in becoming a public speaker, a content creator, or a whatever else what will allow you to reach, connect and convey your epiphanies to a larger audience, all the more wonderful. You’re meant to be heard and listened to—you’re too wise to live an offline existence in this era of digital connectivity ;P You have a power within you that can potentially encourage and motivate others to co-create a more positive Reality for themselves through their own power of agreeing and disagreeing with bullshit ^o^v

c o m m i s s a r y – 2 of Wands

Anyway, you’re now done experimenting, babe~ I see you. You’ve suffered enough in the name of commiserating with ‘normies’. In some ways, you might’ve also just been breaking generational curses and karma. But that’s all mostly over now! You’ve known enough; you’ve gained enough data/information for building perspectives; you’ve studied enough for an entire lifetime. You’ve exposed yourself to enough of the horrors of the world; now you can clean up and return to your natural state of paradise and peace.

You can still do the magickal work of spiritually transmuting the world’s bullshit from your natural habitat of high-speed manifestation. But now, you’re not a commiserator anymore; not a soldier anymore—you’re a billionaire philanthropist hahahah You see, you have the know-how, the resources and the power to help, but you don’t have to suffer together. Celebrate in this return! You’re YOU again! You’re your true Divine You again!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull) & Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – You Can Now Eat the Cake, Too

e m p a t h y – Ace of Pentacles Rx

More than even Pile 2, you seem to have dealt with an even greater amount of lack throughout your Life. This may be a financial lack for some, but for the most part, this Pile is really talking about a general lack of proverbial SUNSHINE! It almost feels like you’ve never truly been happy or free practically your entire Lyfe! Maybe some of you will resonate with being this way for a long time instead of an entire Life XD Yeah anyway, that was the spiritual lesson, which may have been a carry-on from some previous incarnations~

But now, you’re fucking done. You can have the cake and eat it, too! You know why? Because you’re a goddamn cake factory, that’s why! You’re now able to produce endless amounts of cakes and that’s the secret to your abundance for the remainder of your days. But you’re not greedy either, so the Universe really favours that, too! And sometimes, you always have cakes around because you have other people giving you cakes~ \`★_★`/

m e r c y – 5 of Pentacles Rx

To be quite honest, in a weird way, this aenergy is making me think of royal families LMAO Like these ‘royal’ fuckers ain’t do nothin’ but they keep receivin’. They keep having the best of everything with taxpayers’ munny tsk tsk… I know you ain’t a fucker like ‘em, but this is just the image that comes to mind LMAO It’s a vibe that’s giving ‘Universe’s favourite’ or ‘I get paid for just existing’ and all some such. But unlike evil ‘royals’ on Earth, you’ve achieved this level of abundance because you’ve tapped into your Spiritual Royalty consciousness~ ♥︎

Right now, I’m seeing you take care of your body, mentality, spirituality, sanity, but most of all, body. Yes, body and habits. You’re being asked/guided to re-build your healthy habits, your sane rhythm. You’re returning to old-but-positive habits that might’ve been robbed of you as you were surviving some of Life’s toughest challenges! Some habits or comfort activities you might simply have forgotten, and now you’re reclaiming them ^-^v

c o m m i s s a r y – IV The Emperor Rx

Many of you tuning into this have been deep in the process of dissolving an entire paradigm of lack caused by trauma, done by some ‘authority figures’ in your childhood, or younger years. This mostly has something to do with ‘discipline’? Or some sense of needing to be ‘humble’ and ‘regulated’ while in reality they were instilling a scarcity mindset in you. Very evil. Very manipulative. The whole time, these figures were never as ‘limited’ as they were shaping you to be.

You could’ve also been judged so harshly and unfairly, to a point where you became overly critical of even the smallest things about yourself. In your mind, there was this bullshit panopticon that was always policing your conducts, even your mind! In some sense, you could’ve struggled with having a ‘good girl syndrome’ kind of problem tsk tsk… Yeah, that’s all in the past though. This reading is literally just giving you validation and clarity ^-^v I promise you that your happy days are impenetrable now~♪

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Red Geographer (Marco Polo) & Priestess of Happiness

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

[carowleysposts]

It’s okay to care about things.

These past couple of days i’ve been noticing that a great part of our fandom is being relentlessly shamed for still loving Good Omens and not wanting it to get cancelled, and I thought i’d share my feelings about it, as I myself have been receiving hateful messages and comments because of it.

First and foremost: many people who judge don’t seem to be able to understand the power of fiction. Fiction is the art of translating reality through magical lenses and making it easier to deal with. It’s something that brings people hope, joy, comfort and brings them together even if they’re thousands of miles apart. Fiction is a shoulder to cry on, a portal to escape through and a friend to rely on. Fiction is magic in its own way, and it can (and has!) change the world in countless ways. Whether you have a happy, fulfilled and busy life or you are going through a rough patch, fiction is always there to help you navigate your own journey, and that’s why it means so much to so many people.

Secondly, it’s important that people fully understand that we do not necessarily associate our favorite pieces of fiction with the creators behind them. After JKR and all of the newly outed zionists, it’s becoming more and more clear that art can be appreciated for itself, and not tied to the person who brought it to life. Sometimes, shitty unforgivable people can make incredible things. And, as long as you don’t support or defend these people, it is okay for you to care about things important to you. It’s okay. You aren’t bad for loving something that has brought you comfort and joy.

Besides, there’s a certain power in taking things back. In looking at the person who made it and saying “this is mine now, and you are not going to ruin it for me”. And that is exactly why so many of us want this show to go on. We all want Gaiman fired. He himself has offered to step back because he is not his art and that story isn’t his anymore. It’s ours. Going on without him would only prove that, and it is okay to root for the show to survive after all that has happened. We are human, and humans need fiction. We need our little bit of magic, and that is perfectly okay.

And lastly, I would like to say that I believe in all the allegations. Even if there’s a chance of it being untrue, it’s not in my nature to doubt victims or to take someone’s side blindly just because I think they are good at their jobs. I believe his victims, I want him to pay for his crimes and I would never, ever support him. You can feel both things: despise for him and love for what he’s created alongside Terry Pratchett. You can want both things: for him to go to jail and for the show to go on in spite of him.

It’s okay to feel how you feel, to love what you love and to be vocal about it. It’s okay to advocate for your favorite show, only you know what it means to you and why. If you need to talk, I am here, I see you and I understand.

I promise we’ll be okay. 🩷✨🫶🏻

Edit: this is meant to comfort the people who are dealing with this situation as well, please refrain from commenting negative things, this is one of those “if you want to judge, do it silently” kind of things. It’s okay to stop enjoying things after stuff like that comes out, but it is also okay to still love them and care about them. Thanks! ✨

[hazard-c-horror]

What is this? A weird-god child like-creature-spawn thing??? Well Your gonna love it!

I made a new oc! Their name is seraphim!! And Yes, it’s Paragons child This is just one them, there’s many more. Paragon created them to be their successor along with its siblings. They aren’t an Astral being and isn’t related with star power, but they are connected and communicate with other celestial beings. They are immortal but it’s still a baby. They have powers but have not yet in their full potential, after all they’re a baby. They can’t do any harm……..Yet

They absolutely are very curious. One thing they like to do, They love exploring and bouncing between realities :) While going through different worlds beyond, they stumbled upon a living world full of organic life and discovered humanity which they became so obsessed with. They were obsessed about the living world called ‘earth’. The earth was filled with so much life and they were so fascinated by its life, culture and especially its humans. They grew very fond of humans because they were intelligent life, and took it upon themselves to learn more about them. They desire to learn about the human beings and to know what is life like as a human being. They want to be human. They tried to copying bodies but due to lack of understanding gender, they are unsuccessful.

They are very sub-conscious about their appearance. Sometimes they will hide their faces to avoid prolonged attention or eye contact. They are kind of shy but still very friendly.

Here’s a power list

Astral Manipulation

Astral Projection

X-Ray vision

Mind linking

Infinite digestive system

Invisibility

Clear Sight

telescopic vision

Phantasm Manipulation

Spirit Barrier

Spirit Magic

Spiritual Aura

Spiritual Awareness

Spiritual Force Manipulation

Spiritual Form

Spiritual Negation

Teleportation

Flight/ levitation

Restoration

Energization

Hypnotization

Telekinesis

Magical telepathy

Gravitokinesis

Spatiokinesis

Realitokinesis

Mind reading

Healing

Purification

Memory magic

Stellar flight

Stellafication

Inter-stellar travel

Illusion awareness

Camouflage

Invisibility

Wing manifestation

Eye manifestation

Thought detection

Polymorphing

Transmutation

*gasp* Modrolith’s one weakness!

Children

Sorry for the late response I was gonna make a small sketch for this but got distracted by other stuff, and didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer

With that being said Modrolith will absolutely adore Seraphim, cooing and nurturing. Just a complete 180 in his personality. He offer some parenting advice to Paragon, and or lecture Paragon of the most important things to do when taking care of a child. He’d also offer to babysit anytime Paragon wants. Perhaps even teaching/helping the children with a few selective powers.

Hazard would probably try and help the child with some of their abilities. Knowing how hard it is to control and learn something new. They be able to help immensely with the shapeshifting, and I’m sure Seraphim would love their lack of eyes. Unless they can see Hazard’s cameras. I think it would be fun if they did watch parties together, since Hazard also likes observing.

I do love the design a lot. I love the color and eyes especially. The wings are also really nice as well. But those eyes i absolutely adore <3 <3