#today i was telling someone about how its very likely that a different alter opened neoplasm

[all-knowingeye]

this might be a bold take but i feel like i can really easily tell when the person im talking to about mikoto has no real experience with systems because it always feels like this

[echthr0s]

[Plural Ask Game]

📢 1. How did you get your sys/collective name? Hellraiser (2022) introduced a new interpretation of the infamous puzzle box to the lore -- namely, the concept that "the Lament Configuration" is just one shape that the thing can take, and there are other Configurations that represent different desires and ultimately evoke different results from Leviathan. Laudarant is the one that represents the desire for love. We are likewise configured.

🔔 2. Who is the current host/frequent fronters? I, Medivh, am the one who is tasked with interfacing with meatspace reality. This is a singular (lol) role and generally only one of [Us] is capable of this feat at a time. Possessive switches are very rare and usually indicate a change in body pilots; however, the particular blendy-ness of Can Calah and I makes partial possession/sensation-sharing much more common with us specifically. The thing is, there is so much to Me/Us as an "individual" that it feels like a mini-plurality situation on its own. [We] contain multitudes, sure, obviously, but also We contain multitudes within those multitudes.

📎 3. Who is your first known alter(s)? This body has been plural since it's been conscious of itself, so we have very thin memory of the very first people who were here as we would have been quite young at the time.

🏳️‍🌈 4. What is your collective/most prominent identity? I'm not positive on what this question is asking.

🏳️ 5. What's your systems origin? Our "origin" is that we have been plural since we've been conscious, and that's truly all there is to it. The how of it really doesn't seem important or relevant to anything at all.

❗6. Do you have DID/OSDD? We do not.

🛂 7. What's your headcount? We are an open space, entities who have access to it may enter and leave at will. This makes it difficult to keep a count, because do I count people who have been here but haven't been seen in a while? They will always have "citizenship", so I'm inclined to, but then that just complicates matters (there have been. so many of [Us].)... I can tell you how many life signs are currently on the map today, and that would be three. Maybe four? I'm not sure how to count that fourth one.

👥 8. What's your brainmade to introject ratio? None of the entities currently in the Configuration were created by Us. Well-- not in this lifetime, anyway...

🤫 9. Who's your most mischievous headmate? (/silly) [We] tend to attract real serious motherfuckers. I am probably the most mischievous one, but not terribly so.

⚪ 10. What's your headspace like? We tend to imagine the Configuration as a star system with a <Tower/Tree> at its center and a dying star/black hole/Sun nestled in its branches. It is but one universe in a multiversal sea, and there is much travel between Here and other contained universes. Hence the walk-ins, and hence Us being here on Earth with y'all motherfuckers.

🤔 11. How did you find out you were plural? There was no "finding out", it has simply always been so. We found out the various terminologies for the phenomenon much later, but I will say that knowing them earlier might have saved us some confusion/distress in our younger years. :/

🗨️ 12. Random quote from a headmate, go! I can never think of these things off the top of my head. Can Calah is always saying wild shit, I just never write it down.

🗣️ 13. "Plural culture is…" I don't know, ask someone who's more tuned in to that sort of thing.

❤️ 14. What gives you euphoria about being plural? Just basking in the fullness and vastness of this state of being, of Knowing [Our] truth and feeling the awe and wonder that that Gnosis evokes. Delighting in the cosmic mercuriality and primordial chaos that keeps the Configuration, well, configured. Being in love with the Others, being so grateful that [We] have found each other despite the odds, despite the forbidding mundanity of this universe.

💔 15. What give you dysphoria about being plural? Unfortunately, being touched and loved Inworld doesn't do a damn thing for the actual body's touch starvation and isolation. It's very disorienting sometimes to be in such vibrant and fulfilling relationships on another plane of existence and have none of that reflected on this plane of existence.

👤 16. Is there something that makes you different from other plurals? There are a few things about [Our] existence that I rarely, if ever, see reflected in writings from other plurals. A lot of people are really invested in certain dichotomies that we feel are... muddled and ultimately irrelevant. Spiritual/psychological, endogenic/traumagenic, and so on. None of that reflects [Our] chaotic internal logic at all. What else... ah. We kind of resonate with Soulbonding as a concept but we feel like [We] take it a step further. Like... We exist here, right? But We also exist in many other universes, simultaneously. This existence is one of many stories being told about one entity (which in turn is likely one of many as well, but we're not telescoping that far out right now...), and in this existence we have the unique perk of having found gateways to many of those stories through the media this world creates. Likewise, those stories are often in active flux, being created by Us in real time, as they're being lived by Us in their own time... it does occur to me that maybe others do have experiences similar to this, but it's so goddamn difficult to explain that they just can't be bothered, same as us. -__-

[jdgo51]

How Does Your Garden Grow

Today's inspiration comes from:

The Garden Within

by Dr. Anita Phillips

You crown the year with a bountiful harvest; even the hard pathways overflow with abundance. — Psalm 65:11 NLT

Tabitha Brown is one of my favorite influencers. She’s a comedian, an actress, and the patron saint of vegan living. I am not a vegan, and I think that’s true of many of the millions of people who follow her on social media. We just can’t get enough of Tabitha’s oh-so-infectious energy. She always brings inspiration no matter what she’s communicating. At the same time, she has been open about the pain in her own life. It’s the authenticity for me. The bright colors she wears, her Southern charm, and her unapologetic love for Jesus make her downright irresistible. An encounter with Tabitha’s content feels like an encounter with pure joy. So when she launched her children’s show, Tab Time, I watched that too (despite my age falling well outside the target demographic). The first episode became an instant favorite for me because Tab (and her buddy Avi the Avocado) taught us about how things grow.1

The episode begins in Ms. Tab’s real-life garden. Then she and Avi whisk us off to a brightly animated fruit orchard where we meet an orange-tree seed named Marmalade. Marmalade tells us that all she needs to start growing is good ground and some water. Ms. Tab tucks Marmalade into the soil and waters her well. Then we all pretend our arms are the arms of a clock; together, we speed up time by making big arm circles. A few seconds later Marmalade reappears, but now she is no longer a seed but a full-grown orange tree bearing her first fruit. Less than seven minutes into the episode, the preschool children for whom the show was created have already learned all they need to know to understand how gardens grow.

The garden within may be a completely different way of thinking about how we were created and what it means to flourish, but when it comes to what you need to know to live this powerful life, you probably learned it in kindergarten or — at the latest — by the end of a middle school science class.

The Creator made things very simple for us. No wonder Scripture encourages us to come to Jesus with the heart of a child (Mark 10:15). Things are so much easier when we do. And when it comes to letting the Creator change what we believe about how we feel, the timing couldn’t be better.

Your emotional well-being influences every other dimension of your life, including your spirit.

It’s Okay Not to Be Okay

When we catch a glimpse of Tabitha’s real-life garden, it is too lush for words! It’s full of bright colors and fruits and vegetables; this garden is useful. I don’t know Tabitha personally, but I wouldn’t be surprised if her garden looks exactly the way she wants her life to feel — a reflection of her goals for her garden within.

If you could design a garden that looked the way you want your life to feel, what would it look like? What would be growing there? Now ask yourself,

How is my inner garden looking? Don’t feel bad if the soil needs attention. Don’t be surprised or upset if you notice that some areas are bare, some are growing well, and others are dying. You’re not alone. In fact, a lot of people are not okay right now.

As I write these words, multiple global crises are affecting us all. It started in 2020 and it hasn’t slowed down. I’m not just talking about the coronavirus. I’m talking about the mental health pandemic that it triggered. Covid-19 claimed a staggering number of lives in a very short period of time, leaving a trail of emotional devastation in its wake. With every death, an average of five loved ones are left grieving long-term.2 That means that as of late 2022, more than thirty-three million people were grappling with the trauma attached to grieving someone who died not only unexpectedly but unimaginably, from a disease that seemed to come out of nowhere.3

There were other life-altering losses to grieve as well. So many of us missed attending not only funerals but weddings, baby showers, graduations, and milestone birthdays and anniversaries. These are the ceremonial moments that chart the timeline of our lives, shared memories that entwine us in relationship and in community.

On top of that, the way we understood and organized our lives fundamentally changed. People lost jobs. People lost homes. People lost businesses and dreams. People lost sobriety. People lost their sense of safety, and whether they have admitted it or not, some people lost their faith.

All that to say, a lot of people are not okay right now, and that likely includes you or someone you love very much. During 2020, global cases of major depressive disorder increased by 27.6 percent. That’s an estimated 53.2 million more people than the year prior. Anxiety disorders increased by 25 percent. There was more anxiety to start with, so that increase amounted to around 76.2 million more people.4 Of course, that’s just counting the people we know about. So many others haven’t sought help, so we don’t have reliable confirmation. But like diabetes or heart disease, the diagnosis doesn’t create reality; it just points it out. Maybe you haven’t been formally diagnosed with depression, anxiety, or another mental health problem, but that doesn’t mean what you are struggling with isn’t real.

For the first time during my career, a significant number of mental health professionals have waiting lists. We can barely keep up with the demand. And from college kids to clergy, Christians are by no means exempt. At Christian colleges and universities, the number of students contacting campus counseling centers for issues like stress, depression, addictions, and suicidal thoughts also rose sharply.5 The pastors striving to lead these young people as part of their congregations found themselves struggling too. In an October 2021 Barna study, pastors were asked to rate their well-being across six dimensions. Nearly a quarter of pastors surveyed identified as unhealthy overall, with emotional well-being the dimension most often rated as below average or poor.6

Hear ye, hear ye! Knowing Jesus guarantees your salvation; it does not guarantee your emotional health. Reflecting on the lack of emotional awareness in the body of Christ, author Peter Scazzero writes this in his incredibly important book Emotionally Healthy Spirituality:

Christian spirituality, without an integration of emotional health, can be deadly — to yourself, your relationship with God, and the people around you... Sad to say, that is the fruit of much of our discipleship in our churches.7

He goes on to say that “a failure to appreciate the biblical place of feelings within our larger Christian lives has done extensive damage, keeping free people in Christ in slavery.”8 As a therapist and as a minister, I see this over and over and over. Christians haven’t had a scriptural model for understanding the critical role of the heart, so our response efforts have been unbalanced. But now you know that

your emotional well-being influences every other dimension of your life, including your spirit. Remember, the words of the Kingdom are constantly being sown in the ground of your heart, so nourishing the fertility of that sacred seedbed is Kingdom work. Living a powerful life requires you to embrace how your spirit, mind, and behavior work together seamlessly. That means approaching your own heart as a garden rather than a war zone where you’re constantly battling your emotions. Eden is our model for flourishing. The seeds of the garden of Eden were sown on good ground. That ground is our hearts.

Your heart is the soil of your life.

Tab Time, season 1, episode 1, “How Things Grow,” produced by Tabitha Brown, published December 1, 2021, YouTube video, 22:34, https://youtu.be /zUTZEk32tc8. Erika Krull, “Grief by the Numbers: Facts and Statistics,” The Recovery Village Drug and Alcohol Rehab, May 26, 2022, https://www.therecoveryvillage.com /mental-health/grief/grief-statistics/. “WHO COVID-19 Dashboard,” World Health Organization, accessed April 19, 2023, https://covid19.who.int. Damian F. Santomauro et al., “Global Prevalence and Burden of Depressive and Anxiety Disorders in 204 Countries and Territories in 2020 Due to the COVID- 19 Pandemic,” The Lancet 398, no. 10312 (November 2021): 1700–12, https://doi.org/10.1016/S0140–6736(21)02143–7. Helen Huiskes, “It Takes a Campus: Pandemic Expands Mental Health Resources at Christian Colleges,” Christianity Today, December 17, 2021, https:// www.christianitytoday.com/news/2021/december/christian-college-mental -health-counseling-pandemic-demand.html. “38% of U.S. Pastors Have Thought About Quitting Full-Time Ministry in the Past Year,” Barna, November 16, 2021, https://www.barna.com/research/pastors -well-being/. Peter Scazzero, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality: It’s Impossible to Be Spiritually Mature, While Remaining Emotionally Immature (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2017), 9, 44. Scazzero, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, 44.

Excerpted with permission from The Garden Within by Dr. Anita Phillips, copyright Dr. Anita L. Phillips.

[jdrizzle15]

Her Second Return

Just like all of you, and especially my fellow Penny fans, I am absolutely devastated by the Volume 8 finale. I had been in quite a state these last few days, utterly heartbroken, and actually nauseous at times. It feels strange to me to be legitimately grieving a fictional character, but it’s not a bad thing to feel this way. To me, this just shows that CRWBY loves her just as much as us to have written her so well that we connect so completely with her, that it feels like we lost an actual piece of ourselves when she’s gone.

But as you can probably tell by the title, this mega post isn’t gonna be about accepting this end, not in the slightest! Today I want to share canon evidence that can point towards another return of our beloved quirky red headed cinnamon bun! I’m here to spread this hope that I and others in the Nuts & Dolts dolts Discord server have!

I have this separated into many different sections to keep these thoughts organized. With that said, here goes…

A Father’s Words:

In Episode 7 of Volume 7, ‘Worst Case Scenario’ we learn the origins of Penny’s aura, and thus her soul. We also learn that it takes more aura each time she’s brought back. This leaves open an option that could be used at a later point.

Many people theorized that Pietro could indeed revive Penny one more time, which he would absolutely do. But there also lies the possibility that someone else could donate some of theirs, I’m not sure about this as I feel like it’s akin to blood donation where compatibility matters or there's a high risk of altering her, but the possibility is definitely there.

Now, the conversation in Chapter 5 of Volume 8, ‘Amity’ that Pietro and Penny have is an important moment for both Father and Daughter. It was there to show how her death in PvP all that time ago really did have a heavy impact on him and is still affecting him to this day.

Instead of continuing to pretend that everything is A-okay, like he had done for most of Volume 7, he finally lets his true feelings about how it come out to Penny for what is quite likely the first time. Even going so far as to say "Are you asking me to go through that again?" when she offers to take the risk of trying to lift Amity with her power. He wants Penny to be able to live her life.

This entire scene with Pietro established “this is what will likely happen” even if circumstances are much different now, it doesn’t negate the fact that this is a key part of Penny’s story. Scenes like these have a purpose beyond simply making an eventual death all the more heart wrenching. Her never actually getting to live her life makes those scenes basically moot. It makes them effectively pointless from narrative point of view. Unless there's more to it.

Building Relationship:

The build up between Ruby and Penny the last two volumes has been absolutely phenomenal with a definite destination in mind, and this doesn’t feel like that destination. So much of the arc of this season was to help Penny. This girl that our main protagonist absolutely adores and treasures, it would just be awful to throw all of that out for what amounts to an avoidable end. Why use so much of their precious and very limited runtime on deliberately building up this relationship only to end it abruptly, and permanently, when they’re separated?

In my opinion, RT is definitely smarter now than to intentionally set up what was really looking like a budding gay relationship only to kill one of them for good. If N&D wasn't actually going in a romantic direction, why would they leave in all of the romance-adjacent stuff that they got, that's not how ‘just friends’ act. And that is not something you use such valuable time building up for absolutely no pay off whatsoever...

Representation of Hope:

At its core, RWBY has always been about hope. It’s not at the forefront the whole time, but there's been an underlying theme of hopefulness that has persisted since it began. Some describe the show as a Hopepunk, I personally find this to describe RWBY really well. This genre of storytelling is about caring for things deeply and the courage and strength it takes to do so. It’s about never submitting or accepting the way things are. Fighting for what you believe in and standing up for others. RWBY fits all of this extremely well. How does this relate to Penny? She has been shown to be a sign of hope for everyone, but especially for Ruby, the main main protagonist. A prerequisite for a Hopepunk story is the hope.

Her first death in V3 was something that fundamentally changed Ruby. For the first time in the series, we see our main character all but broken by this event. With the loss of Penny, immediately afterwards, Ruby’s hope followed. She made up for it through determination and force of will. We see it affect her multiple times throughout the journey to Volume 7. But upon her return in V7, Hope reached a high point for everyone, the sheer relief on Ruby’s face is plain to see!

In V8 chapter 5 ‘Amity’, Penny literally raises hope by lifting the arena into the sky so Ruby could spread her message. And when she falls, and Amity with her, the connection is lost and hope plummets again. From there things take a very negative turn with the hack begins to take Penny’s agency.

In chapter 11 ’Risk’ is the point in the arc where everyone is reunited for the moment, so two separate hero stories are no longer a thing at that point in time. For the time being focus seemed to be shifted to care about the characters and how they’re going to solve the current problems. This is also where Ruby reaches her lowest emotional point in the season.

It’s not huge, but it’s interesting how connected this is. Before Ruby and Yang share a good cry over learning the possible fate of Summer, Yang brings up restoring optimism and hope to Ruby after the younger sister storms out of the room in frustration. This is where Penny’s scenes take up the rest of the episode. Getting Penny back in control of her own body and safe again is what makes the ending of the episode much brighter, when just 5 minutes before Ruby had been distraught and scared. This then spills over into the group coming up with the plan to use the staff, putting the main group in a much better mood. Of all the things to go right, it’s interesting that it’s Penny.

Things go wrong with the plan in the end and Penny dies. I find it interesting that once again, Penny got them hopeful in their chances of doing something right. Given said plan succeeded but at the cost of Penny of all people, Penny is shown to be the beginning and end of hope for them

The highest and lowest points for hope seem to directly correlate to when Penny’s around. When she comes back again, hope will return too, just like it had before. And because she’ll likely be back for good this time, the second return will probably be close to when Ruby is nearing the complete abandonment of hope. This would be pretty par for the course of the show honestly.

A little aside, but in a sense, Penny also represents Unity. The CCT in Vale fell after her first death, knocking out global communications and the unifying connection it gave. When it was restored for the briefest moment, she was there. Her body connected so she could allow for its launch, her soul lighting the night to hold up Amity with every ounce of her strength. So of course when the Hack succeeds and she falls, she takes global comms down again with her. At a smaller scale - even at the Hack's second last attempt to control her, she draws everyone in the Schnee Manor together. At the start of the volume, Yang states the one thing that they all agree on is not surrendering Penny.

Unity seems appropriate for one whose first song and wish was for but one friend, who would go on to find so many more in the process, and permit for a moment the possibility of all Remnant becoming friends once more. Where she first died, the name of the episode devoted to her story - Amity, "friendship", from the Latin root amicus, "friend" - she almost lives and dies with the very possibility of a united Remnant. It's no wonder she's a priority target for Salem, the great divider, and it seems natural that her next restoration may very well allow the next bid to bring the world together.

The Void Screams:

Moments after Penny's death, we hear a weird scream in the void space. It was a guttural, pained, angry scream, almost like the void space itself was crying out. All the portals shuddered and flickered when it happened.

Some think that this scream was Salem returning, but that happens earlier than Penny’s death, her return is signaled with cinder's arm acting up. We know this because after the arm finished flailing uncontrollably, Cinder said triumphantly "she's back." If it were Salem screaming, it would have happened after she fixed herself, but it didn't.

And I doubt Cinder would have been surprised or unsettled by it considering she was happy Salem returned not long before it. And why would a Salem scream affect the portals anyway, she has no connection to the staff or it's magic.

Another thing to consider is the fact sound is not transmitted through the portals. Otherwise, they would've heard Oscar and the rest calling for them, or the screams of the citizens of Mantle and Atlas. This lowers the possibility of that scream being from Salem even further.

The sound really seems to be coming from something else entirely within the void, and that something is not at all happy. There’s also the fact that Penny was the only person who died in the void space, everyone else was just thrown out of it like Ruby and Co. The only logical cause to me is Penny. Her body was a product (or byproduct) of the same creation magic that made the void space, her blood seems to have been a trigger.

Now I can't be sure about it, but this makes me feel like Penny is almost a part of creation itself? For whatever this thing is to be so angry, that is the only explanation I can think of currently. But all of this could possibly relate to the Narnia allusion of 'the willing victim killed in a traitor's stead' that others have brought up, which will be covered next.

Narnia Parallels:

Atlas has several parallels and references to fictional places (putting aside real world ones like the United States). One of those is that of Narnia, both on the surface and on a deeper level. It is a land of winter year round, where people struggle to survive and there is a present divide between those loyal to the current Monarch and those who are not. James is a parallel to Jadis, the White Witch, a ruler whose thoughts and cares aren’t exactly centered around the actual well being of the people. The hologram table in Ironwood’s office is designed to look like stone, like the Stone Table which features prominently in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. He has a handpicked cadre of special agents/secret police, like how Maugrim and his wolves served Jadis. Another key parallel is how Jadis’s winter sets in to oppress and kill everyone in Narnia, but the Witch provides aid and protection to her loyal followers. She has all the power to spare harm to others, and uses it only for the loyal. As soon as Mantle splits from James and Atlas, no care is taken to protect them from the cold of Solitas even though he has every ability to turn the heating grid back on. His protection is only for the loyal.

Now that the parallel is established, let's look into the details. Starting with how James plays the role of Jadis.

"I had forgotten that you are only a common boy. How should you understand reasons of State? You must learn, child, that what would be wrong for you or for any of the common people is not wrong in a great Queen such as I. The weight of the world is on our shoulders. We must be freed from all rules. Ours is a high and lonely destiny." These are the words Jadis says in the Magician’s Nephew to justify the blood civil war she and her sister had waged for rulership of Charn, before she came to Narnia. She won that war, technically, but only after the last battle had been lost and her sister had marched right up to her so that they were face to face. Jadis’s troops were dead, her followers had surrendered, and the capital was under full control of her sister. But, she still had one card, one ultimate play to win and prove the throne of Charn was rightfully her. The Deplorable Word, a piece of old magic that killed everyone and everything except for her on Charn. It was monstrous, senseless, cruel beyond measure. But it got her that hollow victory. This mindset, the disregard for the people except as tools for her own will, the ultimate ‘aoe’ destructive move that no one had even considered her using, the unwillingness to stop even when by all practical measures the war is over, is a shocking parallel to James. In many ways, he is Jadis in mindset and deed.

Then there is the shared desire for A Thing that both James and Jadis have. For James it’s the Winter Maiden and control over her. For Jadis it’s the Silver Apples from the Tree of Youth. And funnily enough, the Maiden Powers parallel the Apples quiet well. These apples grant power and a life of eternal beauty, but should not be taken or eaten on one’s own initiative. They must be given, a gift granted by another, or only suffering will come from obtaining them. "For the fruit always works — it must work — but it does not work happily for any who pluck it at their own will. If any Narnian, unbidden, had stolen an apple and planted it here to protect Narnia, it would have protected Narnia. But it would have done so by making Narnia into another strong and cruel empire like Charn, not the kindly land I mean it to be.” Jadis’s immortality, and some of her power, come from the fact that she ate an Apple of her own will after stealing her way into the garden where the Tree of Youth had been planted. She gained the eternal life she had wanted and the power along with it, but she did so by taking it and was cursed because of it. Her skin turned pale and her lips blackened as if she were a frozen corpse given life. She will be trapped in a life of misery and hate according to Aslan- oh hey Cinder, how’s having stolen the Power you always wanted working out for you? Cinder had the power she wanted, but she only got hungrier, eager to claim more and increase her might. But in her pursuit she was defeated and humiliated by Raven, had to steal her way out of Mistral, and then suffered defeat after defeat while in Atlas. Only in the end, when she didn’t keep pursuing the Maiden Power, did she get any kind of victory.

The reason these parallels to Narnia are so important is one of the most famous events of the series. The cracking of the Stone Table and the rebirth of Aslan after his death. ‘When a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.’ Well, the ‘Stone Table’ in James’s office has cracked, and Penny strikes me as a pretty willing victim. She has never actually committed any actual treachery or harm, as she was the Protector of Mantle, and fought for its and Atlas’s people until the very end. And because of her death, the actual traitor, Winter, who loyally served James until he had gone too far, was saved. Through Penny’s self sacrifice, Winter was saved. So now Death itself will start working backward.

(Major props to my friend @catontheweb for writing this section, I was getting nowhere with it, if they weren't there this part wouldn't exist!)

Norse Mythology:

The tree we see in the post credit scene gives off some serious Yggdrasil vibes. Also called the World Tree, it is essentially all of creation in Norse Mythology. It connects all nine realms, including the God realms of Asgard, the human realm of Midgard, and the underworld of Hel.

Humans are born from the branches of Yggdrasil. The web of Wyrd is woven for every person once they're born, and their path is set from there regardless of how many times the souls cycle over. But at the end, they're destined to end up in one of the worlds, for a myriad of reasons.

I believe Penny landed closest to this giant tree. She was on the center platform in the void space, so if that space is directly above the island(?) the tree is on, it makes sense for her to fall by the center nearest to the tree. This would not only open up all kinds of possibilities for the volume in general, but it would also create options for Penny.

The whole of Yggdrasil’s representations fit well into Penny’s story. Birth, growth, death and rebirth. We can count Penny’s appearance in V7 as birth for now, her growth is all her development in leaving =the military and becoming a Maiden, her death just happened, and her rebirth would be her revival. And this is a cycle she’s gone through before.

The Norse god Odin and Yggdrasil have quite a connection. In one story, Odin cut out one of his own eyes to gain knowledge from a pool underneath Yggdrasil. The only one that fell whose eyes alone are incredibly significant to the story was Ruby. So, they could choose to have her allude to Odin by having Ruby make some kind of deal with whatever entity likely rules over this magical place. An eye for Penny’s life.

There’s another story about Odin, Yggdrasil and the pursuit of knowledge. Odin so loved knowledge, that he sacrificed himself in a quest to learn the deeper magic of runes. It was believed one could only learn the magic spells from runes in death. So, Odin hung himself on Yggdrasil for nine days as an offering, and teetered between life and death. After he mastered the last spell on the ninth night, he ritually died and all light was extinguished from the world. Odin’s death lasted until midnight, when he was reborn and light returned to the world.

This story doesn’t fit Penny perfectly, but allusions often don’t. So If she really did land near the tree, she could be another loose representation of Odin’s story here. What she did wasn’t for knowledge, but to save her friends and keep Cinder from getting the Winter Maiden power. She believed it necessary that she sacrifice herself to achieve this end. As we established, Penny represents Hope, so her death means the loss of hope. This parallels Odin’s story of his death meaning the loss of light itself. So if this theory holds up, it would make this death temporary, until her rebirth and the return of Hope with her once again.

Alternatively, Ruby has the potential of loosely representing Odin in this story as well. Odin later uses the knowledge of the runes to do many things, but the most relevant one right now is awakening the dead. Both of these stories are about making a personal sacrifice to gain something that is desired. Ruby would absolutely make such sacrifices if it meant saving Penny.

It is said that Odin lived “according to his highest will unconditionally, accepting whatever hardships arise from that pursuit, and allowing nothing, not even death, to stand between him and the attainment of his goals." This sounds like Penny's arc of accepting the WM powers. This is more just a general connection between Penny and Odin, but I found it interesting.

Side Note: I encourage anyone who’s interested to look into RWBY connections to Norse Myth, there’s a surprising amount of things that feel eerily similar to the show. Likely just coincidental, but it’s fun to think about!

(If I got any of this wrong, I sincerely apologize by the way. I researched as best I could, but I admit it could have been lacking.)

Ambrosius and the Staff:

Ruby told Ambrosius "we kinda wanna keep her around longer than that" as part of her very specific instructions. Then Penny died about ten to fifteen minutes, at the absolute most thirty minutes later in-universe. I don’t know about you, but to me that seems very short to be considered ‘longer than that’. Technically it is, but when writing a story and a character says something like that, you typically don’t just kill the character they were referring to basically right away. It makes sense for a week-by-week watch, but in a volume binge, which many viewers do, it becomes ironic how fast Penny dies after being removed from her robotic body.

The first time we see the staff of creation being used, it's to save Penny. Using the staff of creation to help Penny is a sign of how incredibly important she is.

They’ve even got this entire transformation sequence for her, so it wouldn’t make sense for them to throw all that away two episodes later. In a meta context, it’s a massive waste of time and budget considering the asset creation for Penny.

Penny is a character who has already hopped bodies two times. And now we're supposed to just believe that this time it really is a final death? Just two episodes after we were explicitly told her body isn't what matters, that "Her soul is who she is" and that "the mechanical parts are just extra"? From a writing perspective, it feels strange, like your breaking a promise right after making it. And frankly, CRWBY is better than that, which makes me think this is not the actual end for her.

A possible connection between Penny, Ruby, and the Staff (thus Creation) can be seen in the intro. As Ruby is falling and being dragged down into the darkness, she is shown reaching for the staff. In the void space, Penny is the one with the relic. So with Penny having this strong connection to Creation, and the lyrics “fight for every life” playing as Ruby reaches for the staff, it’s a safe assumption to make, with the knowledge we now have, that the Staff of Creation represents Penny in this particular moment. Which could mean that V9 will be about, at least partially, fighting for Penny’s life.

Musical Hints:

In terms of music, Friend, as a song for Penny, is very dissonant from the episode itself. The song is oddly cheerful for Penny’s recent untimely death, and it overall highlights the wrong parts of death. It’s simply too happy to be a song about losing one of the most, if not the most joyous characters in the entire show. The song also abruptly ends. There’s no outro, and while this could symbolize the fact that Penny died young, it could be that the song itself is unfinished in a story sense.

What do we hear just before the song finishes, though? A progression of notes that sounds eerily similar to the last line of the opening of Volume 8. The notes for “Fight for ev’ry life” and “Who fin’lly felt alive'' share a similar melodic structure, they aren’t perfect clones of each other, but they are incredibly similar, to the point where it seems intentional. Penny may very well be the life that the opening song is fighting for. It is also worth noting that the line “Fight for every life” comes just after “Sometimes it’s worth it all to risk the fall,” which is the exact wording used for the description in the Volume 8 finale. Team RWBY risked the fall, yet, strangely the opposite of fighting for every life happened with Penny’s sacrifice. Perhaps the time to fight for every life has yet to happen, and we will see it come Volume 9.

For another thing, the lyrics for Friend are entirely centered on Penny’s feelings for Ruby, to the point where they read very much like a bittersweet love song. The music itself is incredibly cheerful, as mentioned previously, creating a mood whiplash with the end of the volume. Why would we hear a song about Penny’s feelings for Ruby, sounding like a love song, if her death is supposed to be a tragic sacrifice akin to Pyrrha’s? The song may very well be giving a clue into its future use in the show proper.

If this was meant to be a good bye song, why make it so cheerful and romantic sounding? There's only one part about her dying and even then, it's just too accepting and goes right back into cheerfulness. The song is also pretty hopeful, telling Penny's story in a fairly chronological order. And the part where she talks about sacrifice is quite pointedly followed up by one about feeling alive. It also ends with the super cheerful chorus, the word "alive" being the last... (Remember the episode title: The Final Word)

(I want to thank my friend @shadow-0f-x for writing the majority of this section! I was struggling to choose how to tackle it as I am not well versed in music theory.)

What We Didn’t See:

It is likely that Penny understood Jaune's semblance better than him and figured something out about it’s abilities in the same way that she understood Ruby's semblance better than her. She had plenty of time to observe his semblance up close as he boosted her aura to stave off the virus. Because of that intentionally timed cutaway in the finale, we don’t get to hear her explain herself after her strained “Trust me.” All of that seems really suspicious to me.

Pyrrha Parallel:

Pyrrha and Penny both sacrificed themselves to stop or stall Cinder. Jaune tried to convince the both of them to stop. With Pyrrha, he failed, while with Penny he actively helped her sacrifice herself. Doesn’t make sense for the guy who was determined not to let anyone else do what Pyrrha did, unless of course Penny assured him she’d be alright.

The Moment:

RT including the suicide hotline in the description shows that they're aware that Penny basically committed assisted suicide, seeing it as a noble sacrifice worth doing to save her friends. They're aware, and I believe they're smart enough to condemn that decision to hell and back.

The best way to do that in my opinion is to pull her back into the land of the living and let her witness first hand the consequences of throwing her life away so freely. This would show Penny how her actions affected others so maybe she could learn to truly value herself. To not think herself expendable. It would be bold and unwise to portray this choice as something good, unless it was going to be called upon later and be pointed out for how horrible it really is.

On top of this, Penny was way too content with her death, happy even. There's no way team RWBY is letting her stay content with it. It’s almost as though we're supposed to join Ruby and Co. in calling bullshit on what Penny is saying and doing because no, Penny, this is not how things are meant to work. It's as if Penny was basically saying "I want to die for my friends" because most of the volume had been about everyone else making sure she didn't die. She knows it will hurt them. She knows.

At the peak of it all, a choice like this will totally destroy Ruby. It may very well be her breaking point for Volume 9. Curiously, the moment itself is written like it’s the first choice Penny’s ever made, yet the entire Volume shows this isn’t the case. However, this is the first choice that Penny’s made solely independently and it’s rather pertinent that the choice she makes is a mistake. Outside of giving Winter the Maiden gift and saving the day temporarily, this sacrifice will not have any lasting positive effects. Jaune will be saddled with the grief of killing Penny. Ruby will have to live with losing her best friend and not being able to protect her a second time, and Winter now has the burden of the Winter Maiden abilities, making her a target of Cinder. This is a bad thing, and Penny needs to see the long term consequences.

Transfer of Power:

As we all know, colors in RWBY are really important and get a lot of focus in the show. That means the yellow we see as Penny gives Winter the Maiden Powers was intentional and likely important, no matter how insignificant it may seem. It’s possible that the transfer effect being yellow could have something to do with Jaune’s semblance. When Fria gave the power to Penny, the effect was very much blue, so this transfer should have been green since she was the one giving it this time. The weirdness of this transfer and the focus on color in RWBY really makes it look like something’s up with how that went down.

A little off topic, but Penny saying "I won't be gone, I'll be part of you." makes me think... Winter is smart, so when she gets time to think about what Penny said, maybe she'll arrive at the same question many in the audience came to; if she's literally part of Winter, can they be separated again? If Winter starts questioning that, the possibility of Penny coming back just skyrockets.

Fria actually tells Penny "I'll be gone" before giving her powers up, which is an interesting contrast to Penny telling Winter "I won't be gone". She may have gotten that line from Winter be all philosophical in V7, saying Fria was now a part of Penny, but it hits differently coming from an actual Maiden. S5o it’s possible that Maidens usually actually will be gone, but Jaune's semblance did something to change that.

This could go well with the theory that they won't need to find an aura transfer machine, or build another one, because Jaune will have a semblance evolution allowing him to do the transfer instead. It might actually be that this evolution already happened and the golden light we saw was Jaune transferring penny's aura to Winter in some way?

An observation that I find interesting is when Penny gives winter the powers, not only is the aura yellow but penny completely glows yellow too, and she obviously starts to disappear, but she doesn’t seem to fully disappear, she just glows.

It's possibly a fading out effect and she does fully fade but animation makes bright light easier, and so we don't actually see her disappear because she's dead and not gone. But it does once again emphasize the color yellow here!

And the color is coming from Penny, it does go up Winter's arm a bit, but Penny is clearly the source. This transfer is so weird and I’m not really sure how to interpret it. There's just actually no reason that we are aware of to make the effect yellow here is the thing. Unless it has something to do with either Jaune or Ambrosius, or potentially a combination of both...

Jaune’s Aura:

The way we see Jaune's aura break in the finale is strange. His aura shouldn't be breaking here. It had been long enough since he was boosting Penny, he's had time to recharge, and it didn't look like it was a strain on him at all. Plus, we know he has a lot of aura, so there probably wasn't too much to recharge in the first place.

He has a massive amount of aura, it has never broken before as far as I remember. Even if it has though, that doesn’t make this occurrence any less odd. It should absolutely never be a one-hit KO. We didn't see anything that would've drained it, that should not have been enough to break his aura. Unless he did something - something that would require a huge amount of aura - that we just didn't see. That amount of aura drain is far more than just an attempt at healing would do, Jaune absolutely did something with his semblance that took up almost all of his aura.

Pinocchio Allusion:

As any Penny fan knows, her character allusion is Pinocchio, the puppet who became a real boy. Penny deviates from the allusion by having always been a real girl, as Ruby is quick to point out, but she shares many story beats with her original story including multiple deaths. In the original story, Pinocchio dies from being hung by his own strings due to his poor decision making and he dies. Sounds a little familiar, does it not? This is where his tale originally ended. Readers were unsatisfied with this ending however, so the author decided to change the story by reviving Pinocchio and teaching him to be more careful.

Unlike Pinocchio making all the wrong decisions, Penny often makes the right ones, or ones she thinks is right, when concerning others. While usually a good thing, this has meant Penny almost giving herself up multiple times during V8, her last attempt being successful. This is where Penny and Pinocchio begin to share similarities again. They are both very reckless when it concerns themselves. This carelessness comes from different places, but it ends with the same result of them endangering their lives and even sometimes losing them.

In the Disney movie, Pinocchio dies by drowning after going to rescue Geppetto and washes up on the shore (like the beach in V8’s post credit scene). His father is devastated and takes him home to grieve, but as a reward for his selflessness in rescuing his father, the Blue Fairy returns and brings him back to life, as well as granting him humanity. Penny sacrificed her life as well, and it stands to reason that she should be rewarded for it, much like her allusion was.

Penny got her maiden powers from someone with blue aura and then gave her powers to someone with blue aura. So it could be that not only Ambrosius, but Fria and Winter as well represent the Blue Fairy. It could be set up for Winter helping to bring Penny back to life once more. It’s an out there theory I admit, but it’s not outright impossible either. The Blue Fairy in Pinocchio saved him three times that I know of, so RWBY having three representations does make sense.

Geppetto wished for him to live as a real boy, but it depended on what path Pinocchio took. This is very reminiscent of Penny and Pietro. Pietro wants to see her live her life, and surely with him absent in V8C14 that didn't work, despite Penny choosing. Her father did not see her happy enough to live her life, and will only be able to learn her death through others. But Pinocchio's themes were life and being alive. So the likelihood that this is not her end yet is quite high!

A Girl That Fell Through the World:

Penny could be the girl who fell through the world. The girl in the story fled the consequences of a choice. The only person who chose her ultimate fate was Penny. The others were pushed into the void, but she chose to die. The consequence of her choice is Ruby’s grief first and foremost, which Penny won’t see. The girl who fell through the world does come back though, and the world will be changed severely with Penny’s absence. Alternatively, it could also be Penny coming back to Wonderland or wherever they currently are, as long as it’s unrecognizable to her.

What Returning Brings:

Others might say another return would have no story relevant purpose, but I wholeheartedly disagree. Penny gives a profoundly youthful, joyous, and wondrous outlook on the world and story that we hadn't seen since Ruby in Volumes 1-3(not the end), Penny returning would bring a much needed levity back in after the despair they will undoubtedly be going through. While not necessarily a huge thing in most other shows, for RWBY, a show largely about keeping up hope, an ounce of such relief is a necessity.

As much as I hate saying it, Penny’s death does actually make some narrative sense because she had to pass on the Maiden powers. (They could have done this in a number of ways, and I personally think they chose rather poorly, but I digress.) Throughout this whole volume, we can see Penny seemingly being set up to join the main cast, but would have been too strong with the powers. This also accomplishes ridding her of the burden of responsibility that comes with being a Maiden and lets her obtain the freedom that’s so important to her character.

Once she returns, seeing this grief that her actions caused, particularly to Ruby, will get her to realize more that her actions can have serious repercussions. She made a choice, but that choice hurt the people she loves. She must have known that it would but I’m not sure she ever realized just how much.

I didn’t want this post to be heavy in the shipping department, so I largely left it out, but I am going to say this one thing that could have an impact. If Nuts & Dolts is on its way to being canon, which this volume makes it feel highly likely, this could be a catalyst.

It could prompt an arc for the both of them in which Penny learns to live her life fighting for her loved ones, rather than sacrificing it for them. A relationship could potentially start from there. And Ruby seeing Penny learn these things may also help her to stop doing the occasional but very dangerous and reckless things she does. Ruby witnessing Penny coming to terms with what she did to the people that care about her would actually make her stop to think “wait, is this how everyone else would feel if I got myself killed?” That would be a very important moment of character growth for her.

I’m certain there are other significant things that Penny returning can bring to the show. And there are definitely more sections I could add to this. At this point though, assuming anyone even made it this far, I think I’ve been going long enough already. So let’s just roll into the outro!

As painful and hopeless as it seems, I'm choosing to trust them with this because there is absolutely no way they didn't see backlash coming. The way this finale went makes me think that they calculated for backlash and aren’t jumping into something they don’t have a plan to recover from. Whether this trust is unfounded or not remains to be seen, but I don’t think it is currently. I do think, however, that the cause of this backlash was a major misstep. Now that it has happened though, they have a chance to do something good with it.

I know for a lot of you, trust in CRWBY has been damaged, some even irreparably so. And for those that feel this way, I don’t blame you. My trust in them took a hit too, but isn’t broken completely yet. There are many ways that they can bring her back that would make sense with the narrative, they have the ability to make it right, and after going over all of the hints and general weirdness of things many times, I think they will.

I'm feeling pretty confident now and I really didn't expect that to happen at all to be honest. But discussing and theorizing with the discord server seriously helped get my hopes back up surprisingly fast! It’s actually thanks to all of them that this gigantic post even happened! So thanks a ton my fellow Dolts! And a special thanks to!!

@arcana-amicus

@catontheweb

@cosmokyrin

@gaydontmesswithme224

@jammatown919

@shadow-0f-x

They really helped get this thing across the finish line!

And thank YOU for reading all~ of this! I sincerely wish it gave you some of the hope and confidence that I now have!

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

[kookingtae]

falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 4: Bimbofication + Cockwarming

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,164

Warnings: Bimbofication/intelligence play, hypnosis/trance state, cockwarming

A/N: This fic is very much set in my Future Management universe though I think you could get away with not having read the others. I’ve missed writing these two tbh and then I saw that one of the prompts for day 4 was bimbofication and decided it was a good enough excuse to get back to them. But I also really loved the second prompt for day 4, cockwarming, so decided to mix the two together!

After the long week you’d both been dealing with, you and Roger were glad to have a weekend to yourselves to relax. You’d spent too many nights out at various political functions, lobbying politicians and trying to convince the wealthy elite to donate to your cause. It was frustrating though and despite the numerous late nights and all your best efforts, it didn’t feel like you’d got particularly far. Roger had returned to the studio that week to begin recording Queen’s next album, so he was having a better time than you had been, though by all accounts everyone had been a little on edge as the week drew to a close. He’d come home complaining about how snippy everyone had been and how little progress they’d made that day. It was nice just to curl up on the couch together and zone out in front of the telly, not least because recently you’d barely found time to just be together without interruptions. It wasn’t a problem exactly, and you’d known you’d have patches like that when you first started seeing each other, but the lack of intimacy and physical affection created by your busy schedules did take its toll. So, on Friday night, Roger took great joy in turning off the alarm clock, deciding you could both use a lie in. You were too exhausted to even suggest anything more than talking before you went to sleep, but Roger made sure he was spooning you as you settled down, holding you tight.  

Roger was still asleep as you woke, carefully detangling yourself so you could tiptoe to the bathroom, but he offered you a sleepy grin when you came back.   “Sorry, did I wake you?” “Maybe a little. Thought we were going to lie in.” He pouted at you as if you’d betrayed him.   “I had to pee!” you laughed, “But I’m all for lying in now.”   Roger chuckled along with you as he beckoned you over, encouraging you to lay your head on his chest as you snuggled back up. His hand found yours, softly tracing the length of your fingers as he sighed happily.   “I missed this,” he half whispered, pulling your hand up so he could kiss your knuckles.   You hummed in agreement. For someone who’d not been in the habit of sharing your bed or encouraging physical contact, you’d certainly gotten used to Roger’s touch. He’d thoroughly converted you as the relationship became more serious, made you see how nice it was to be held, how comforting his hand in yours could be. And you had missed it over the last week when there’d not seemed to be enough time for those soft, quiet moments with him. You’d sat next to uninterested politicians who nodded politely at what you said but never offered anything useful, and thought about how nice it’d be to feel Roger kiss your temple or squeeze your thigh. And then your mind had taken it further, reminding you how warm you got when his weight was over you, how it felt to fill your lungs with his breath and to taste him on your lips. You shifted at the idea and realised you weren’t the only one who wanted more than just to relax. Scooting away from Roger so you could better face him, you began to suggest you could maybe slip down under the covers and help him get properly excited, but before you got more than a few syllables out he was talking about a different idea.  “So, I’ve been thinking about something I thought might be fun to try with my bimbo doll.”  “Oh?” You weren’t entirely sure how you felt about that. On one hand you loved when Roger turned you brainless and cock-crazed, how fun it was and how freeing. But this was the first time you’d really been able to be together in a little while. What did it say about the state of your relationship or his opinion of you, if he’d prefer your bimbo alter ego over the real you, “You want her?”  “Not necessarily right now,” he said, rubbing his knuckles softly against your cheek, “Not if you don’t want to. I’m happy staying like this with you all day.”  “Don’t pretend you don’t want to fuck. I want to fuck.”  Roger laughed, “Oh I definitely want to fuck. I’m just saying I’d be perfectly happy fucking beautiful, brainy, you, instead of the slutty idiot.”  You couldn’t help but smile at that.  “But it’s something I’ve thought about quite a lot. And I think it’d be kind of perfect for such a lazy morning.”  “Okay.” you said, thinking about it more, “I’m not entirely opposed to the whole bimbo thing. It might actually be nice to be a bit brainless, maybe even make it a bit easier to relax. Y’know, sort of keep me focused on enjoying the moment and really feeling everything. So why don’t you just tell me what the idea is and then I’ll know how up for it I am right now.”  “Hmmm. I thought maybe it could be a surprise. But don’t worry, it’s something we’ve done before. I’m just curious how she’d react to being made to do it.”  “Being made to?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is this something I like?”  “Oh yeah, definitely. Believe me, we’ve done this a few times before. Usually, it’s less part of sex and more to do with the aftercare or the foreplay.”  You tried to think of what he meant but nothing came to mind that fit the description. It was intriguing though. And you trusted Roger, you knew he wouldn’t take advantage or force you to do something you wouldn't normally do. If he said you enjoyed it then you must enjoy it usually.  Roger waited to see how you’d react.  “Nothing to lose?”  “Nothing to lose.” He said with a smile, “I promise it’ll be fun, love.”  “Okay, let’s do it. I’m insanely curious. But also, sometime later today or tonight, we’re going to have regular, non-bimbo, sex.”  “Anything you want. You ready?” 

You nodded and instantly felt Roger draw you back down so you were within easier reach. His fingers trailed lightly over your arms as he began to talk you down. You relaxed into the moment, letting his voice wash over you as his touch created goosebumps over your skin. As you closed your eyes your breathing began to soften and you felt the familiar drowsiness settle into your mind. Roger did his usual improvisation, making sure you knew how dumb you were, how easily confused and hopelessly idiodic you were. He made you understand that you couldn’t understand half of what he said, that you were just a giggly dummy who needed his help. And then, when he was sure you had gone brainless, he told you how horny you were. How all you could think about was his cock in every one of your holes, how desperately you ached for him, how being filled by him was your one goal in life. The only thing you needed or wanted. And how the longer you waited the hornier you got. He told you about being desperate and wet and you felt yourself grow desperate and wet as he said it though you couldn’t remember the word desperate. You tried you but just came up blank. The only world you could think of was cock. It flashed in your mind like a neon sign and just the thought of that word alone made your mouth water and you cunt ache.  You shifted, trying to rub your legs together, able to feel the slick forming between them as your stomach tightened with need. And then he told you one word, a simple word. No. He explained that every time he told you no, it was guaranteed to compound the horny desperation you felt.   “What’s co-com- ummm, com-pound?” You asked, confusedly.   “It means the feeling will get stronger. When I say no, you’ll get even hornier. Understand?”  “Yes,” you sighed, content now that he’d explained the hard word.  

By the time you blinked your eyes open, all you knew was that you wanted his cock. It was your very first thought and the first thing you said.   Roger looked at you, smiling, and greeted you. A pleasant, “Hi,” that made you feel warm and happy.  You’d smiled back, “Can I please have your cock Sir?”  That made Roger laugh, “No baby. That’s now what I want to do right now.”  Hearing him say that just made you want it more though.  “Please Sir? I could suck it for you. I really really really want to suck your cock.”  “No, I don’t think I want that either.”  You whined softly, “I promise I’m reallllllly good at it and I love sucking cock so much.”  “No. What else could you do instead?”  “Ummm,” it was hard to think, hard to remember anything beyond how horny you were, “Maybe I could ride you?”  “Hmmm, no.”  You groaned and clenched your hands into fists for a second as a bolt of energy ran through you, “Can I wank you?”  “No, baby, not that either.”  “Please Sir?”  “No.”  The bolt of energy ran through you again and you stomped your foot against the mattress to relieve some of the pressure.   “Keep suggesting things,” Roger grinned, “Maybe one of them might interest me.”  You scrunched your face up in concentration, trying to think of something Roger might like, “What about if you fucked me? I’d be so good and I’d stay so still and you could use my pussy and cum in me and-”  “No. No I don’t want that either.”  “But Siiiiiiir,” you whined, “You always tell me to take your cock!”  “Do I?”  “Yes!” you giggled, wondering how he could have forgotten, “You always say how good it feels in me.”  “I s’pose that’s true.”  “So can I have your cock now?”  “No.”  You whined and pouted but Roger didn’t budge.  “I’ll tell you what. Let’s start with taking your clothes off.”  “Okay Sir.” you nodded, giggling again at the idea, hoping it would lead to having one of your holes filled.  “Well go on then. Shirt off first, good girl.”  You rolled yourself off the bed and quickly began tearing off the pyjamas you were wearing, feeling hot as Roger’s gaze dragged over the newly exposed skin.   “Now undress me.”  You couldn't help but laugh as you crawled across the bed to reach him. He’d slept without a shirt so all you had to worry about were his flannel PJ pants and underwear pulling them down his legs one at a time. As his underwear came down your eyes fell to his cock, revealed inch by inch. You felt saliva pool in your mouth and had to resist the urge to lean forward and taste him.  “Can I touch you Sir?” you asked quietly, almost holding your breath as you waited for his answer.  “No.”  “Please?” you asked again, frustrated. Roger didn’t understand how bad you wanted it, how much you needed him. “I’ll do anything Sir, whatever you want.”  “No.”  With an impatient groan you threw yourself onto your stomach, beating your fists and feet against the mattress. It was the only way to relieve the energy and pressure building inside you.  But Roger just laughed, “Awww, is Dummy gonna have a tantrum? That’s not going to change my mind. My answer is still no.”  You whined and kicked your legs again, your pussy throbbing with how empty it was.  “You’re such a desperate slut, aren’t you Dummy.” Roger laughed again, “So maybe....”  You looked up excited and hopeful.  “I might decide to fuck you. Pin you down, fill you hard and deep and cum in you as many times as I can manage. Just to shut your whining up.”  You scrambled back to your knees and nodded happily, reaching to wrap your hand around Roger’s cock.  He slapped you away, “I said might, Dummy. That’s still a no. You’ll have to show me you deserve it. You’ll have to be a good bimbo doll and do everything I say. Can you do that?”  You whined but agreed you could. He didn’t need to make you promise to follow his orders. You’d have done that anyway. You’d have done anything he asked, anything to make him feel happy and pleased. 

“Sit up, hands behind your back. Show me your cunt.”  You scrambled to do as he asked, smiling proudly when he hummed at the sight of your spread legs and wrapped his fist around the base of his cock.  “You’re so wet Dummy. How’d that happen?”  You giggled again, “I told you I want you Sir.”  “Guess I didn’t realise how much,”  Your gaze fell to his hand and your breath caught as you watched him slowly stroke his length, stiffening more the longer your eyes were fixed on him. It just made everything worse. You couldn’t seem to drag your eyes away, nearly panting with desire. Wanting to touch yourself almost as much as you wanted to touch him.  “Oh you are desperate. I can see your cunt clenching around thin air and you’ve got drool on your chin. You don’t even care which hole I use.”  You shook your head. Whatever he wanted would make you happy because it’d make him happy.  “I could keep telling you no.”  A whimper slipped from your lips and you felt your pussy pulse with need.  “But maybe I’ll be generous. Lie down here, next to me. Good girl, now turn onto your side. No, other side, facing away from me. That’s right.”  “What are you doing Sir?” you asked over the creaking of the bed frame as Roger shifted around behind you. He didn’t answer though, just pressed himself against your back. You could feel his hard length being directed to your slit and you changed the position of your legs to make it easier for him.   “Good girl,” he said softly, his breath warm against your bare skin.  You moaned at the feeling of him moving between your legs, waiting for the sweet stretch of him filling you. Only it didn’t come. You could feel him between your lips, sliding easily through your soaked folds, every ridge and vein making you shudder. You tried to press back, to direct him into you, but his hand landed on your hip, forcing you to still.  “No.”  The word pulled another whine from you, louder than any before, exacerbated by how close he was to what you really wanted. But that just made Roger chuckle as he kept teasing you. It was pure torment, though worse was still to come.  

It took you completely by surprise when Roger stopped his teasing rubbing, readjusting his angle so he could sink into you slowly. The unexpectedness of it stole your breath but you managed to gasp out a small moan of thanks, finally getting what you’d been so desperate for. The position you lay in kept your bodies close as he sheathed himself fully, rocking his hips gently so as to withdraw a little and thrust back into you. You could have cried with joy at knowing you’d pleased your Sir, that you’d been so good and patient, and he’d finally decided to take what you’d offered him. And then he stopped. You tried to take over his rhythm, tried to fuck yourself on his cock the way you knew he liked. Last time you’d done that he’d praised you for being brainless and needy, called you a good bimbo whore and you’d kept going until he’d cum, laughing about how good it felt. But this time he stopped you. He pressed his hips flush against you and wrapped his arm tightly over the top of you.   “No, Dummy. No moving now.”  “But Sir,”  “No. Be good and lie still or I will make you,” He tapped the middle of your forehead with a finger, “Remember I have all the power.”  You didn’t know what he meant by that or why he’d tapped you but you knew how to be good. You knew how to please. And so you relaxed again and lay quiet and still, the way he wanted you.  “It’s still a little early for me to use you. I think I want to sleep a bit longer, so why don’t you stay here and warm my cock for me. It’ll keep me comfortable so I can sleep longer. And then when I’m better rested I’ll think about fucking you.”  You whined again, wanting to thrash your arms and legs again but unable to, wanting to be pinned down by your Sir and used, wanting to feel him move within you or to taste his cum or anything. But if that was what he wanted that was what you’d do, so you nodded and agreed softly.   Roger hummed happily which was all you needed to hear to feel happy too. He let out a tired exhale and seemed to still. You listened as his breath evened out into a shallow rhythm, and struggled to keep relaxed in his embrace. As far as you could tell he was asleep, though his hand seemed to come to life. His fingertips trailed over your skin, coming to rest on your chest. You tried to remain quiet but struggled not to moan as his hand cupped your breast and squeezed it. In response he moved slightly, though still slept on, his cock changing angle within you by a hair's breadth. In your state of heightened arousal it was enough to have you clenching again, trying not to wake Roger in case he got mad.  

There was a soft laugh from behind you and Roger mumbled, “C’mon Dummy, you should sleep too.” And then he kept talking, telling you how you’d still be horny when you woke but you’d have control of your brain again, you’d be back to his beautiful, intelligent partner. It sounded like nonsense (what did intelligent even mean?) but something about the way he spoke made your eyes droop and close. There was a small tap on your forehead and you awoke, disorientated by being brought back to the real world so soon.  “How do you feel, love?”  Roger asked and you twisted in his arms to try and see him better. You were pleased when you heard him groan at the change in your position.   “You’re a fucking tease Roger Taylor.” you half laughed, trying to sound less amused than you were.  He laughed too, clearly pleased with his little game, as he released you and withdrew his cock from your heat, “I told you you’d like it.”  You pushed yourself up to be more comfortable, “I don’t know that like is the word I’d use. All I feel is horny. Insanely so.”  “Do you want that fuck now?”  He was still laughing when you tackled him. 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[givemeyourcrunchbars]

Sequestered

Fern x f!reader

If there are any warnings I need to add, please let me know :)

The weight of the crown on your head was too much to bear today. You gently set it down onto the grass, next to you in the shade of the giant oak trees above you.

If someone were to ask you what it's like to be a princess, you would say it's a curse. For the past 15 years you've been raised, your father was stern and barely paid any attention to you. Suffering from neglect, you slowly watched him become more and more corrupt with power, forcing the entire kingdom to stay within its walls. As far as the common people knew, the outside was a mysterious place not to be messed with.

That's what power does to people. To have all these abilities at your hands, is a great responsibility. But most rulers toss those away, like a bag of trash being disposed into the garbage can.

You sighed, gazing across to the opposite side of the clearing you were sitting in. You raised your head to look up at the sky. Oh, what I would do to have a different life...

The rustling of leaves caught your attention. You gasped, quickly backing away into the shelter of the trees. Dad can't catch me being here!

"Hey."

You froze as relief washed over you. It wasn't your father.

You weren't allowed to leave the kingdom. Finding loopholes wasn't easy, so you didn't know what you'd do if he found out.

Carefully, you stood up, squinting at the figure standing at the opposite end of the meadow. Slowly, they- or it- stepped into the sunlight. You recognized him from your past adventures. Fern the Human.

"Hi," you replied warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know," he said. "Just exploring." Fern wore the same expression he did normally, a blank set of eyes and his mouth set in a straight line.

You nodded, your eyes darting around the clearing, at anything but him. You rarely interacted with outsiders, especially since you weren't allowed outside of your kingdom. So you didn't know how to act. All your social skills started chipping away because you were forced to stay inside all the time. "Princess duties".

"I haven't seen you around here before," the grass boy remarked. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" I repeated. That was a good question. Every single decision I've had to make and every emotion I've had was decided for me. So much so, that I wasn't sure there was any "me" left.

"I'm Y/N," you replied. Fern tilted his head.

"Where are you from?"

"Um." You struggled to find the words. He couldn't know about the kingdom, or else you would find yourself kicked out. What was even the purpose of telling him? It could only end badly. His curiosity would get the better of him, driving him him to see the kingdom for himself. Would Fern even try to save us?

Even though you wanted to rescue your people badly, the thought of them roaming around aimlessly in the Land of Ooo scared you. They barely knew anything about the outside, and the only information they did know altered their perspective to think of it in a bad light. Besides, what could Fern do to help? He's just one person.

"It's none of your business," you ended up blurting out. "I have to go." Your father wanted you home for the evening anyway. For what, he didn't say.

You turned away before you could hear Fern's reply, dashing off into the dense forest.

Taking a deep breath, you began to form an image of a raven inside your mind. Shapeshifting was still something you weren't good at. You were supposed to follow a certain set of rules as a princess, one of which being that you couldn't shapeshift into your raven form in the presence of other people. It was seen as impolite.

Focus on shapeshifting! You commanded yourself. Finally, you were able to fly, ruffling your wings a bit. You missed being able to soar.

"Wait!" Fern's voice yelled from behind you, his footsteps trodding through the layers of leaves on the forest floor. You sighed, flapping up to the tree tops and taking off. A feeling of dread gradually grew in your chest, facing the reality that you had to go back to your secluded life, with people that ignored and misunderstood you.

As the dark green leaves of the forest zoomed by beneath your feet, you began to wonder whether you should've listened to what Fern had to say. Eh, it probably wasn't important.

Directing your thoughts back to your destination, you vowed to come back to your happy place as soon as possible. It helped clear your head. Hopefully, Fern won't be there next time. The idea of talking to people made you uncomfortable. The people that you've trusted in the past have all either broken your trust, or just didn't care about you at all.

There's a crown here in the bushes, Fern observed, lifting the heavy piece of gold. It was a big ring, with an arm extending upwards, holding a small, rugged black crystal. Interesting.

Turning it over in his hands, something strange caught his eye. A carving on the back of the crown. It was barely illegible, but Fern could make out one name. Y/N.

"Where is your crown?" The Raven King hissed angrily. "The suitors are already here!"

"I don't know, Dad!" You frantically racked your mind, trying to remember where you had left it. A princess' crown was a part of her, as a role model and a symbol. But this time, it represented worth.

"Why are you making me marry someone I don't even know anyway?" You hurriedly glanced at your father, brows furrowed. Your father had invited a group of suitors to compete for your hand in marriage. They desired only the princess' heart, but it wasn't true love, like what you dreamed of as a child. They just wanted land, wealth, and power. Marrying you was their key to a happy life. Without your label as a princess, they would have no opportunity at all.

"You know very well why!" Your father growled. "This is going to be beneficial for the kingdom! Don't you want me to prosper?"

You started walking down the spiraling staircase that lead to the main hallways, unable to stay calm any longer. "I want the people to prosper," you replied, sending a spine-chilling glare to your father behind you. Before he could respond, you stomped away, into the main hallway where a line of antsy suitors stood waiting.

You definitely have a thing for walking out on people.

"Heya, Fern!" A boy wearing a worn, dual-toned green backpack greeted Fern, holding open the door that had separated the two just moments before. "Jake just made some meatloaf! Want some? It has your favorite- I mean our favorite garnishes." Finn grinned.

"No thanks," Fern replied, distracted. His eyes wandered all around the giant treehouse that stood over him, almost menacingly. Despite what Fern wanted to think, there was something about it that made him uneasy. When he thought of the treehouse, he thought of Finn, which in turn caused him to obsess over the fact that he wasn't Finn. Then who was he?

"No probs." Finn sounded a little disappointed, but cheered up when Jake called out that the meatloaf was ready from somewhere inside the house.

"By the way, can I ask you something?" Fern asked, taking something out of his backpack, which tumbled to the ground, causing him to groan in frustration. Finn turned back to his grassy friend while taking a plate of food from the unseen Jake. "What's up?"

He gasped when he saw the golden crown gleaming in the sunlight. "That belongs to one of the princesses!" He picked it up and handed it back to Fern.

Fern nodded, stowing it in his backpack. "I found it in the forest near Tree Trunks' house. I think this girl dropped it," he said.

"Whahf girl?" Finn said, trying to chew meatloaf at the same time. "PB? Fire Princess? Slime P?"

"No." Fern shook his head. "I've never seen her before, and honestly," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "She was scared of me." He sounded frustrated, his voice trailing off.

"Dude-"

"Why doesn't anything ever work out?!" Fern said in anguish. He curled his fingers in and out of his palm, trying to release the tension trapped in his mind.

"Calm down, dude," Finn exclaimed. "I can help you find her, don't worry! I've never seen this crown before either, so we can go together." He placed a hand on Fern's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"No!" Fern protested. "I wanna do it myself," he said, softer. "Can you just tell me how to find her?"

Finn looked taken aback for a second at his grassy friend's outburst, but nodded regardless. "You can ask the Candy People and the other kingdoms, they probably know who owns that crown." He handed Fern a map of the Land of Ooo, sketched out on a yellowed piece of paper.

Saying their goodbyes, Finn left Fern on his solo quest to find the mysterious princess.

The long and chaotic day was finally over. You sank down to the floor, your back against the door to your room. You stared at the king-sized bed. I hate this. I hate everything.

After you left your father standing on the stairs, you had awkwardly walked into the main hall. But that must have been the last straw for your father, because he still didn't join you, even after five minutes. He ended up sending a replacement to accompany you after a long time of waiting. You wished that the suitors didn't keep glancing at the spot where your crown was supposed to sit while you stood with your hands clasped in front of you, staring at the doorway your father was going to follow you through.

I still have to get the crown back, you thought. Where did I leave it? The only place I would've lost it would be... Then you realized. The clearing! Of course! Oh no, I have to go there right now!

You raced over to the small window in your bedroom, peeking your head out. Seeing practically no one outside, you transformed into your raven form and hopped on the windowsill. Suddenly, an object was hurled at you from below. Looking down, you saw a small child chucking pieces of corn at you.

"Get out of there, you stupid crow!" He yelled. Close enough.

You carefully flapped your wings, flying high above the kingdom. As soon as you were out of reach, the child gave up trying to knock you out of the sky and returned to his home, resuming the quiet atmosphere the kingdom always held during evenings.

Night had almost fallen over Ooo when you finally arrived at your meadow. Landing in the spot where you had sat earlier that day, you turned back into a human and rummaged through the bushes for your long lost crown. As the minutes ticked by, you began to grow more frustrated. Where is it?! If I lose it forever, I'm done for.

"Huh?" You said out loud. Prying apart the branches of a blueberry bush, you found a few grass blades attached to the rough leaves, reminding you of Fern. You stood up. Why not just see if Fern had it? He wasn't the scavenger type, but something as mysterious as an unknown princess' crown was sure to fascinate him.

Ugh, the sun is setting. You sighed in defeat, vowing to visit Fern the next day to take back the circlet. Another day that's ending, another gloomy morning to look forward to. But this time, you had a mission to accomplish.

[twilightprince101]

So I made an SCP entry for Bugsnax...

I thought with the ending and all of the disturbing stuff that this game has, it would fit perfectly with SCP stuff. Not to mention, there has to be an SCP equivalent in the Grumpus world. GCP? SGP? SCG? I dunno man, have some horror writing about muppets.

SCP-3470: Sentient Sustenance

[Heavy spoilers for Bugsnax ending]

Item #: SCP-3470 aka “Snaktooth Island”

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures:  Due to its nature of being a landmass the most SCP teams can do is obscure its location to the populus. Efforts have been made to create rumors of numerous shipwrecks--akin to SCP-605 “Bermuda Triangle”--to deter the public from exploring the location. If unauthorized ships are witnessed crossing into the restricted zone, they are to be terminated immediately.           Addendum: Due to the recent insubordination of Dr. [REDACTED]. All authorized personnel that enter or exit SCP-3470 are to be subjected to a rigorous screening process to ensure that no instances of SCP-3470-A are brought out of the restricted area without B Class Permission or higher. Further precautions being considered are a 10 minute test in which personnel seeking access to SCP-3470 are to be placed into an empty room with an instance of SCP-3470-A. If SCP personnel show any signs of wishing to consume SCP-3470-A, they are to be removed from the team immediately. Permission from Professor [REDACTED].  Is awaiting approval.

Description: SCP-3470 is a large landmass off of the coast of [REDACTED].  Spanning 50 mi^2 and nearing 1.5 mi in height. Several sections of SCP-3470 are flux in weather patterns, ranging from lush forests to arid deserts in the span of 3 miles. Although similar in appearance to locations such as  [REDACTED].  And  [REDACTED]. , further research concludes that flora are substantially different in chemical composition, containing traces of [REDACTED].  Which was only recently discovered. Due to this, nearly all flora encompassing the island are inedible, as digestion induces hazardous effects ranging from intense stomach pains to spastic vomiting. 

The most significant aspect of SCP-3470 are various instances of sentient life, which are to be referred to as SCP-3470-A-[1-100]. SCP-3470-A take appearances of common food items, such as SCP-3470-A-1 [“Strabby”] taking the form of a ripe red strawberry with what appear to be dollar store googly-eyes [all instances of SCP-3470-A share the final trait]. All instances of SCP-3470-A vary in physique, behavioral patterns and similarities to their respective food item. Each instance also appears to have a “name” that it repeats ad nauseum despite not having observable mouths or vocal chords, making them easier to classify. Chemically however all are similar, containing faint traces of  [REDACTED]. . This can be witnessed upon any attempt to alter SCP-3470-A instances from their base form, dissolving into an unknown inedible fluid, losing sentience in the process. 

Due to SCP-3470’s flora being inedible, SCP-3470-A instances become the landmass’s only source of sustenance. Consumption of SCP-3470-A induces a drastic and instance side-effect of modifying the consumer’s limbs, thereby becoming SCP-3470-B. The limbs of SCP-3470-B instances vary depending on the instance of SCP-3470-A that has been consumed, alongside how many instances have been consumed prior to said event. Fundamentally however, all limbs modified take on the appearance of whatever the SCP-3470-A instance was impersonating. The more instances a subject consumes the more of their body transforms, beginning with the hands and feet and extending to the entire torso and face. The internal functions of the body remain intact along with full autonomous control, however the structure and physique of transformed limbs change drastically, such as an SCP-3470-B instance’s arm transforming into a banana after consuming an instance of SCP-3470-A-12 [“Banooper”]. These transformations subside in time [correlating to amount of SCP-3470-A instances consumed], with SCP-3470-B limbs reverting back to their original state, containing faint traces of [REDACTED]. 

Addendum 3470-B: Increased Exposure

Proceeding with experimentation with SCP-3470-A instances under Prof. [REDACTED]. , extended exposure and consumption of SCP-3470-A instances results in increasing addictive tendencies and side effects. File below contains audio files of experiments with Personnel D-125.

<Begin Log 01, skip to 00:02:17>

Dr. [REDACTED].: D-Class 125, approach SCP 3470-A-45.

D-125: What is…? Ok, seriously what the grump is this??? Like, I signed up for this expecting a lot of horrifying stuff, but-did someone slap googly-eyes on a piece of corn?!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : 125, please approach SCP-3470-A-45.

D-125: Yeah, yeah, alright. So… (to A-45 after approach), what are you supposed to be then? Did Dr. [REDACTED].  Have their kid put their arts and crafts project on display or-

A-45: Cobhopper!

D-125: GRUMPIN WHA- IT JUST TALKED?! IT MOVED IT’S LOOKING AT ME!!!

Dr. [REDACTED].: (whispering) so much for being the ‘toughest D-class around… ‘

<Skip to 00:08:24>

D-125: So you’re telling me I just… eat it? The eyes too?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Correct. Do not worry, upon further testing the eyes seem to be made of a material akin to valentine’s candy hearts (lie).

D-125: Huh… alright then. Down the hatch, I guess?

Sounds of eating, cries of A-45

Dr. [REDACTED].  : D-125, describe the flavor.

D-125: It’s… good actually! I was honestly expecting the insides to be guts or poison or something, but it’s actually pretty good! Nice and buttered to, a bit of salt? Reminds me of my mom’s barbeque. 

Dr. [REDACTED].  : And the sensation of your leg transforming?

D-125: Huh? (125 looks down and notices their leg transformed into a head of corn). Oh… Well this is pretty cool I guess. 

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Any uncomfortable sensations?

D-125: Not really no. It’s weird… I can still feel my toes, but it’s like a peg leg. Actually, I think I can see a few kernels wiggling if I try. Neat!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Is… that it?

D-125: Yeah I think so, *chuckles,* this is actually pretty cool!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Hmm… (To recorder) Despite initial panic from witnessing A-45, subject D-125 has adjusted to transformation with record pace. Further research required.

<End Log-01>

<Begin Log-04>

D-125: Heya doc!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Greetings D-125. Have you adjusted to recent transformations?

D-125: Yeah it’s been going alright. The pineapple hair is a pretty nice dew all things considered, and the bacon tongue makes me look like a snake. I like it!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Pleased to hear it. Now, approach SCP-3470-A-52.

D-125: Alright, what’s on the menu today then? Who’re you little guy?

A-52: Sodi-D Sodi-D!

D-125: Huh, a drink this time. Change of pace I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Please consume A-52.

D-125: Right away ma’am. Sir. Whatever.

Sound of soda can opening and drinking, cries of A-52.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : (To recorder) Upon the first drop of A-52’s fluid, transformation has already occurred, transforming the subject's ears into what appear to be soda can tabs. No further transformations appear to occur on consecutive gulps-wha (To D-125) Sir?!

Sounds of crunching, further cries of A-52, then silence.

D-125: Not bad! I don’t usually drink soda, beer’s more my thing personally, but it was pretty sweet! Just the right amount of sugar. And hey, new accessory!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : ...D-125, why did you eat A-52’s shell?

D-125: Huh?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : The… the can. Nobody has attempted to consume the can.

D-125: Oh. Uh… 

Silence for 7 seconds 

D-125: I dunno, I guess since the eyes were edible on the other guys, I thought the can would be here? Wasn’t too hard to eat, kinda like biting into ice. Didn’t hurt.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Very… interesting. This will be recorded for future experiments, thank you D-125.

D-125: No prob. And hey, call me Chuffee.

<End Log-04>

<Begin Log-09, skip to 00:09:54>

D-125: Hehey, candy corn teeth! Pretty sharp too, should make eating these things even easier!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : D-125, you’re nearing complete bodily transformation. Have you been experiencing any discomfort as of late? Any anomalies?

D-125: Nope, in fact I feel great! I used to have this crink in my back for the longest time, but now it’s gone! I’m more limber than I’ve been in ages!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Fascinating… very well then, thank you for your time.

D-125: ...wait, what? That’s it?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Hm?

D-125: There isn’t any more left? I thought there would be a bit more.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : *sigh,* D-125, we’ve went over this last time. We cannot give you more than one instance a day due to 3470-A’s high caloric count. The instance you just ate was over twenty th-

D-125: You know you keep saying that. Didn’t you guys want to really figure out what’s with these things? When I ate that soda can you said yourself that nobody’s tried that before, so let’s go further! I’m still hungry anyways, I’m craving a burger if you got any like that.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Sir, please exit the room. I cannot give you any more than what I am authorized.

D-125: ……..You know, it’s interesting how your window is so high up there. I can hardly see you.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : ...excuse me?

D-125: You heard me [REDACTED].  , I can barely see you from down here. You can see exactly how I change, the new stuff I get… but I can’t see yours.

Silence for 15 seconds.

<End Log-09>

<Begin Log-10, skip to 00:11:02>

D-125: I know you’re holding out on me up there [REDACTED].  .

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Sir, I’ve told you countless times already. I can’t give you any more than I’m authorized.

D-125: (Sarcasm) Oh yeah, suuure. For all I know you guys are feasting away on these things up there, while leaving me for dust! Like seriously, a single popcorn kernel?! That’s it?!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Sir, that is all I can give you today. Please exi-

Sound of a door opening

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Wh- Professor [REDACTED].  ?

Professor [REDACTED].  : Hello D-125. 

D-125: Oh great, another snob to tell me what to do. If you aren’t gonna feed me, then just shut up already! My stomach’s growling like crazy, and I’m not leaving until I get my meal!

Professor [REDACTED].  : Not to worry D-125, I’m fully prepared to grant your wish.

D-125: ...wait, really?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Professor, what are you-

Professor [REDACTED].  : I listened to the log of your previous meal, and you raised a good point. If we at the SCP foundation wish to fully understand what these creatures are capable of, we must push the boundaries of what we believe are possible. So then…

(Sound of metal grinding, several overlapping cries of SCP-3470-A instances)

D-125: Oh, my…

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Professor, what are you doing?

Professor [REDACTED].  : Eat until you can’t eat anymore. Consider it my treat, to you.

D-125: Ooohohohohoooo yes!!! Now we’re talking!!! Come to papa little guys!!!

<Skip to 00:32:59>

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject so far has consumed 34 instances of 3470-A. Since consuming number 21 he has shown increased signs of vigor, despite eating half of his body mass. 

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Professor, please, stop him. This is-

Professor [REDACTED].  : (continuing) Upon complete transformation of limbs to SCP 3470-B instances, any further consumption appears to override a prior one. His leg, previously resembling a head of corn has transformed now into a roll of sushi. His tongue, once a strip of bacon, now a wad of chips.

D-125: (While eating) Mmmph! Oh my god, what are you a jar of pickles! More the merrier!

Sound of sloppy gulping, glass crunching, cries of SCP-3470-A-35

D-125: Ooogh, some noodles too! Love japanese food!

Sounds of rapid slurping, rapid glass crunching and licking.

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject appears to have increased vigor in consuming 3470-A instances, not leaving a single crumb or shard left uneaten. A query: what is the chemical makeup of instances contained in glass jars or bowls? The bowls themselves? Further research required.

<Skip to 01:42:47>

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!

Rapid, feral sounds of crunching and slurping.

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject has now eaten approximately eaten 1.5 times his body mass yet continues to feat, now with no regards for table manners whatsoever. I have already called for a janitor to wait outside.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Chuffee stop!! You-

Laughter, slowly increasing in volume

D-125: This!! This is the best I’ve eaten in my entire life!!!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Chuffee please-O-oh… oh my-

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject’s left ear has disconnected itself from its host. There appear to be no signs of blood or even markings indicating he has had one at all-there goes a tooth!

D-125: Hooooh I knew you all were holding back on me!!! This stuff is delicious, amazing, spectacular!!! I’ll never go hungry again, no more rotting on the streets!!! This is all mine, you hear me?! Mine, MINE, MINE!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

Laughter continues for several seconds, sounds of objects falling to floor as volume slowly decreases, ending with a loud clatter.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Ch-Chuffee, I- urp!

Sound of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject, after eating nearly twice his body mass, has had each limb separate from his core torso one by one, now fully resembling their respective food items, until his eyes transformed into SCP-3470-B instance, resembling the mixed nuts that made up his head. Soon after, his torso and head fell apart, scattering into mixed-nuts. I can not recognize Subject D-125 in the slurry.

More sounds of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED].  : These results are quite fascinating. Further research is required into these various side effects. End tape.

<End Log-10>

[gyugiggles]

Scoups Soulmate!

Genre- Angst/Fluff

Summary- Legends say “It’s all in the eyes”, that is how you find your soulmate

Side Note- Check out my wattpad @/Rushika__08

Y/N's POV-

I've grown up being told by the elders "It's all in the eyes."

When I was a kid, I asked my mother and my grandmother how did they end up finding the perfect partner to spend their lives with. "I saw it in his eyes." is what I heard every time. There was a myth or maybe that was true that when you find your soulmate you would know it because you'll see your future in his eyes.

Since that day I have been looking into people's eyes but I haven't found anyone yet. It was a normal day and I was working as usual at the cafe while checking out orders and serving them. As the male customers came in to order, I swiftly glanced into their eyes and saw nothing. Today unexpectedly I was met with a rather odd man. "I need an iced americano! That would be it!" he ordered. I looked into his eyes, they were the most prettiest brown orbs I have ever come across in my life. I was kind of smitten by him but again I didn't see anything come through. After a while he took his order and left.

S.coups POV-

I look around the cafe to find my next prey, I needed money, desperately for that fact. My eyes fell on the counter girl and I don't know why I just felt like she was the one. I very casually went in and ordered. She gave me a look and stared right into my eyes. "Another believer of the myth." I thought to myself as I ordered and took off thinking of a plan.

Next day, I went into that cafe and decided to carry out the plan. I walked up to the counter and ordered as usual. I took my drink and sat until she was done with her shift.

Y/N's POV-

Another usual day and I was again behind the counter, swiping cards, serving orders. I am again met with those pair of beautiful chocolate brown orbs. This time it was different, as I looked into his eyes, the colour became transparent and I saw myself trapped, in a room, a dark room with a only one window which was the only source of light in it. I saw my hands tied behind a pole and my mouth covered with a piece of clothing. I gasped zoning out as he spoke, "Did you hear me?" he asked and I nodded typing in his order furiously.

I took a break and the event ran through my head. "My soulmate, is my kidnapper?" I clutched my heart. "Does that mean he could harm me?" I thought to myself feeling dizzy. I finished my shift and got out of the cafe as soon as I could. I walked down the streets and for some reason it was dark which was unusual. Thinking about the kidnapper being my soulmate, it all started falling into place. The fate was doing its thing, it wanted me to meet him so I played along.

He came from behind strangling me as he pressed a chemical coated handkerchief on my nose. The world started feeling dizzy and then blacked out.

I opened my eyes and found myself exactly where I saw myself in his eyes earlier. "Huh! so guess it is true? Now what Y/N? You are gonna die?" I said under my breath and mentally slapped myself. "You are awake?" he asked walking in. His voice was soft and not at all threatening. I tried to adjust my eyes according to the light that fell in the room from the window. I looked up at him to see his face and he was the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. His hair fell messily on his head and that was mesmerising, he wore a rather cosy looking knitted sweater which was big for his size and he seemed like the most warmest place on earth. I smiled to myself taking in his sight. "Are you smiling right now?" he asked in a shock. "I've waited for you all my life." I said softly. All these years finding myself in people's eyes I have finally found my soulmate and he was the most gorgeous thing ever.

S.coups POV-

I entered the room and saw her slowly opening her eyes, the light from the window fell directly on her face. She was beautiful, nearly left me speechless. Her hair were all over her sweaty face which was quite a sight to see. She mumbled something under her breath as I walked towards her. "You are awake?" I asked making sure she was not mumbling in sleep. She looked up at me for a while and smiled. "Are you smiling right now?" I cocked my eyebrows. "I've waited for you all my life." she said in a faint voice. "I don't know what you are talking about but you are going to tell me your family's phone number while I ask you nicely." I said crouching down. "I will!" she said at once taking me by surprise. "Good!" is all I said standing up. "Do you have to do this?" she asked rather softly. "I am not obliged to answer you!" I replied coldly walking away. "You better stay put I'll go and get something for you to eat." I informed her as she gave me a light nod.

I went out to get some food for the two of us as I saw some police officers strolling around. I knew I'd get caught as they were already looking for me regarding the prior abductions. If they are near this area they knew my hideout was somewhere near too. I don't know why but I had this sudden urge to be by the girl I held captive and this was the first time I fell that way for someone I have kidnapped. I ran hurriedly, getting a deep scratch in my leg by a stranded wire on the street but I still ran so that I can reach my hideout safely.

Y/N's POV-

I wriggled out of the ropes I was tied in and walked out of the dark room and entered what seemed like a living room with a very comfy couch and the living room looked very neat for someone who is a kidnapper. I looked around and my stomach grumbled. "I told you to stay put did I not?" I heard a voice and I jumped in a shock. "Atleast make noise when you are entering!" I said clutching my chest. "Excuse me? This is my home!" he squinted his eyes and I shrugged as my eyes strolled down to his bleeding leg. "OH MY GOD YOU ARE BLEEDING!" I screamed. "Worry about yourself I'll worry about mine." he said dropping the bag of food on table as he limped into a room. I followed him as he sat on the bed, I sat in front of him as he was about to pull up the jeans. "Let me help!" I ordered as he looked at me in shock. I helped him roll his jeans so the wound was now visible, it wasn't deep but it was big scar. "I took the first aid box from his hand and started cleaning the wound as he flinched. "Why would you help your kidnapper?" he frowned. "I said I waited for you all my life." I smiled put on a bandage on his wound. "Okay done!" I grinned clapping as he scoffed. "Ohh! You smile too!!" I teased as he rolled his eyes. "Lemme cook while you rest?" I asked. "I'll do it!" he said coldly. I got up and rushed to the kitchen before him. "I"LL DO IT! LISTEN TO ME WHILE I AM BEING NICE!" I said rephrasing his words from earlier as a small smile danced on his lips.

I was done cooking and placed the plates on the table as he looked at me keenly. "What?" I asked. "Aren't you a bit afraid?" he asked.

Scoups. POV-

"No I am not!" she smiled. She was already starting to grow on me and this has never happened. She sat across me and gestured me to eat. I took a bite, "Woah! It is nice!" I said keeping my cool. "Thanks!" she grinned as she started eating. "I am Y/N by the way!" she stretched her hand at me. "Seungcheol, but I am also known as S.coups." I shook her hand as she smiled at me.

I looked at her as she looked back, I froze in my seat. Her eyes started becoming transparent and I saw me and her at the alter, she was dressed in white and I wore a tuxedo. I saw us kiss and the priest announced us husband and wife. "You are!" I gasped. "This is true! The myth is true?" I asked her in a shock as she nodded. "You are my soulmate?" I asked again and she nodded. "No wonder I felt uneasy leaving alone here." I gasped again. "It took you too long to come!" she smiled. "You knew?" I asked. "The second time you came into the cafe, I knew it since then." she replied casually. "Wow! You are beautiful!" I said smiling. "Ugh...Don't do this!" she laughed. "That's so uncomfortable!" she added. "Would you rather stay with me? Not as a captive but as my partner?" I asked and she nodded. "Leave all this then! I'll help you!" she caressed my hand.

SInce that day I have not dealt into anything criminal and now the day I saw in her eyes have finally arrived. They were right, "It's all in the eyes!" and I am glad to have met her.

[the-fae-folk]

What is a Fairy?

I suppose they probably need some explanation, especially nowadays. Fairies (Faeries, Fay, Fey, Fae, or even Fair Folk) could be considered a type of mythical being. Some have described them as spirits, others as ghosts of the deceased, some deified ancestors, prehistoric precursors to humans, personifications of nature, pagan deities, or even angels and demons in the way of Christian traditions. Often they encompass a metaphysical aspect, being depicted as spirits or beings who transcend the physical universe and world that we know. Or given features of the Supernatural, such as magic or extrasensory perception, which allow them to violate or go beyond the laws of nature. Even sometimes Preternatural, which something abnormal or strange and explainable but still within the boundaries of the natural laws of the universe (for example I could say someone is a preternaturally good cellist, and mean that they are impossibly good beyond expectations or even belief, but I’m not saying that they are actually magical...just that their apparent abilities and how they gained them are unknown and very strange to me.) But what is a fairy? Well you already know what some of them look like. Many people might immediately picture Tinkerbell from the animated Disney feature film, or even from the original Peter Pan novel by J. M. Barrie. And they would be correct, in part. Tinkerbell is a depiction of a Pixie, a specific type of fairy. But there are lots of fairy types, I don’t actually think there’s a complete list. (I should probably try to make one at some point, but no promises.) During some points in history the label of fairy was used to mean magical beings who had a mostly human shape. Gnomes, leprechauns, goblins, pixies, dwarfs, elfs, etc etc etc. And at other points it also included non humanoid magical creatures such as Unicorns, Dragons, Kelpie, Basilisk, and more (Sometimes these were referred to as Fairy Creatures). So where did they come from? Well the funny thing is that Fairies don’t actually come from only one area or set of myths. They are a strange combination of the folklore from all over Europe (and possibly beyond) and include ideas and stories from Celtic, Scandinavian, Nordic, Germanic, French, and English Folklore and Mythology. As these stories were passed around and intermingled and changed they brought about the collective creatures we know today as the Fae or Fairies. The Renaissance, Romantic Era, Victorian Era, Edwardian Era, and even the Celtic Revival Movement of the 19th and 20th centuries all had their influences on the stories and ideas connected with the Fairy folk, some significantly less helpful than others. Even the Fantasy Literature Genre, with Tolkien at its forefront, has added and changed much about people’s view on these creatures. So lets talk about some basic things you’ll want to know when dealing with Fairies. The first thing you might want to remember is that many people view the Tuatha Dé Danann (Supernatural gods, goddesses, heroes, and kings of Irish Mythology) as being the source for Faeries, or at least one of the strongest influences. Celtic Folklore and culture is easily one of the most visible bits of Faerie lore that you can find these days, but there’s a lot more that starts showing up when you begin to dig. Another thing to note is that the Renaissance, Romantic Era, Victorian Era, Edwardian Era, and the Celtic Revival Movement had a massive influence on how people saw fairies. They would mix folklore from different areas of Europe, attempted to prove the existence of fairies through scientific means, created artistic depictions of fairies, and much more. Often they sanitized and shrunk the fairies until they were mostly harmless or relegated to the outskirts of human life as a curiosity. Which brings me to the next point. In a lot of older folklore, from all over Europe, fairy beings are often depicted as being incredibly dangerous. Kidnapping humans or human babies, causing crops to wither, water to dry up, food to rot. They could lure people in with magic into a fairy ring of mushrooms and make them dance forever or make them forget their life. Sometimes they even played with time itself. A person could dance with the fairies only to find that they’ve been gone a hundred years when they try to go home. And many beliefs have depictions of some kind of Otherworld, a world apart from our own, or layered over it like an extra dimension we are unable to perceive or directly interact with. Sometimes its a land of the dead or a hidden underground kingdom, other times is a strange and fantastical country with its own laws and ways of doing things. As these stories meshed together we got what is known as Fairyland. The land which the fairies dwell in. Though some believe they simply live on Earth, hidden in the wild, or among us. Some reoccurring ideas are often connected with fairies, though not all have stayed the same as the original lore they were born from. The idea that Faeries, for whatever reason, are unable to or will not lie. This is a very important idea because the Folk are also simultaneously depicted as deceptive. Like particularly vicious lawyers they will play with words, never quite lying, but purposefully leading you astray or tricking you into a bad deal. They will often obey an oath, promise, or deal exactly to the letter, but ignore the intent behind it in order to twist it to their own benefit or amusement. Whether or not fairies are immortal depends entirely on where you draw your folklore from. Sometimes they are immortal; deathless, not mortal. Unable to die in spite of starvation, terrible wounds, age, or anything else. They are bound to life for all time. But some stories depict the stranger Fae Folk as being Eternal. Beyond time, always having existed and always existing, sometimes cycling, sometimes directionless and boundless and everything. Some tough concepts to get your head around, but nobody really agrees which one fairies are. In some folklore they’re even depicted as mortal, same as you and I, but a lot longer lived and harder to kill. A reoccurring motif in older Folklore is the need of humans to try and ward off fairies with charms and totems. When they were not depicted as outright malicious and dangerous, sometimes being thought to cause illness and death or bring about disastrous misfortune or steal a person’s name and voice, fairies were still mischievous and valiantly unhelpful. So people had all kinds of lucky charms to protect from them: like four leaf clovers, various plants, or actions like wearing your clothes inside out to confuse them. Iron is said in many beliefs to burn them, and certain herbs they view as sacred and will refrain from touching the bearer. A few more things. Christianity plays an important part in this discussion, though many people don’t like that. In many places myths and legends were wiped out by Christianity, either intentionally or simply by the very fact that it was trying to convert people in Europe and old pagan beliefs were seen as nonsensical. But still stories persisted despite this. Many old Myths and Folkloric beliefs were recorded for posterity by Christians, and some stories were altered and we are unable to see exactly how much (Beowulf). A lot of fairy stories remained too, only Christianity painted them as fallen angels or even demons of a kind, who could be kept away from Holy Ground, or were forced to kidnap humans to pay a tithe to Hell (or be taken themselves if they couldn’t pay). So folk beliefs, though generally discouraged by the church as superstition, remained quite strong all over Europe for a very long time. The last three things you need to know. One, there are many people who still believe in Fairies, though their beliefs often vary, sometimes wildly. Witches who claim to work with them. People who believe in them through their religions (usually pagans and other non christian groups). People who claim to have encountered or been abducted by them. And many others. While I personally do not believe in Fairies (though I like to keep an open mind, just in case), I do believe that the beliefs, cultures, and and rights of these people ought to be respected. Which leads me to other mythical beings that are similar to Fairies but hail from cultures and peoples outside of Europe. It might be tempting to label some of the spirits from various Native North American Tribes or from Chinese Folklore (or many others) as fairies. Don’t do that. If Fairies are real, you have to consider that there might be other mythical beings who fall under different categories and groups. And even if they are not real, it is extremely disrespectful to the people of those cultures to take their stories, myths, beliefs, and folklore and try to mesh it in with European Folklore. (this is exactly what the Victorian and Edwardian Era were guilty of.) And finally... Some people might tell you that they know everything there is to know about Fairies. Don’t believe them. Even I, who have spent years and years studying European Faerie Folklore, find new things about them every day. I have sources I’ve found and haven’t yet had the time to look into, areas of study I’ve had to neglect. There is so much about Fairies to explore that it’s quite literally impossible for any one person to know all of it. Personally I’m doubtful that a single person can even know an eighth of it all, you can hardly imagine how much there is. And while there is a great deal of it buried on the internet, there is even more offline. Books which are out of print or have never had their contents uploaded, cultural stories passed down in various European groups which are saved from oblivion only by the oratory tradition, and the remains of all kinds of long dead or vastly changed civilizations who believed in the Fairies and tried to work with or avoid or appease them. All the misinformation and personal gnoses out there also make it a lot harder to find accurate information about traditional folklore. And that’s not even counting the multitude of inventions and ideas spawned by fictional literature surrounding fairies. There is simply too much. But of course... Since when has something being impossible ever stopped a human from trying anyway? If you’re still interested, then who am I to discourage you? Go, jump right in. There’s so much to learn about the Faerie Folk.

[jdgo51]

How Does Your Garden Grow 

Today's inspiration comes from:

The Garden Within

by Dr. Anita Phillips

"You crown the year with a bountiful harvest; even the hard pathways overflow with abundance." — Psalm 65:11 NLT

"Tabitha Brown is one of my favorite influencers. She’s a comedian, an actress, and the patron saint of vegan living. I am not a vegan, and I think that’s true of many of the millions of people who follow her on social media. We just can’t get enough of Tabitha’s oh-so-infectious energy. She always brings inspiration no matter what she’s communicating. At the same time, she has been open about the pain in her own life. It’s the authenticity for me. The bright colors she wears, her Southern charm, and her unapologetic love for Jesus make her downright irresistible. An encounter with Tabitha’s content feels like an encounter with pure joy. So when she launched her children’s show, Tab Time, I watched that too (despite my age falling well outside the target demographic). The first episode became an instant favorite for me because Tab (and her buddy Avi the Avocado) taught us about how things grow.1

The episode begins in Ms. Tab’s real-life garden. Then she and Avi whisk us off to a brightly animated fruit orchard where we meet an orange-tree seed named Marmalade. Marmalade tells us that all she needs to start growing is good ground and some water. Ms. Tab tucks Marmalade into the soil and waters her well. Then we all pretend our arms are the arms of a clock; together, we speed up time by making big arm circles. A few seconds later Marmalade reappears, but now she is no longer a seed but a full-grown orange tree bearing her first fruit. Less than seven minutes into the episode, the preschool children for whom the show was created have already learned all they need to know to understand how gardens grow.

The garden within may be a completely different way of thinking about how we were created and what it means to flourish, but when it comes to what you need to know to live this powerful life, you probably learned it in kindergarten or — at the latest — by the end of a middle school science class.

The Creator made things very simple for us. No wonder Scripture encourages us to come to Jesus with the heart of a child (Mark 10:15). Things are so much easier when we do.

And when it comes to letting the Creator change what we believe about how we feel, the timing couldn’t be better.

Your emotional well-being influences every other dimension of your life, including your spirit.

It’s Okay Not to Be Okay

When we catch a glimpse of Tabitha’s real-life garden, it is too lush for words! It’s full of bright colors and fruits and vegetables; this garden is useful. I don’t know Tabitha personally, but I wouldn’t be surprised if her garden looks exactly the way she wants her life to feel — a reflection of her goals for her garden within.

If you could design a garden that looked the way you want your life to feel, what would it look like? What would be growing there? Now ask yourself,

How is my inner garden looking?

Don’t feel bad if the soil needs attention. Don’t be surprised or upset if you notice that some areas are bare, some are growing well, and others are dying. You’re not alone. In fact, a lot of people are not okay right now.

As I write these words, multiple global crises are affecting us all. It started in 2020 and it hasn’t slowed down. I’m not just talking about the coronavirus. I’m talking about the mental health pandemic that it triggered. Covid-19 claimed a staggering number of lives in a very short period of time, leaving a trail of emotional devastation in its wake. With every death, an average of five loved ones are left grieving long-term.2 That means that as of late 2022, more than thirty-three million people were grappling with the trauma attached to grieving someone who died not only unexpectedly but unimaginably, from a disease that seemed to come out of nowhere.3

There were other life-altering losses to grieve as well. So many of us missed attending not only funerals but weddings, baby showers, graduations, and milestone birthdays and anniversaries. These are the ceremonial moments that chart the timeline of our lives, shared memories that entwine us in relationship and in community.

On top of that, the way we understood and organized our lives fundamentally changed. People lost jobs. People lost homes. People lost businesses and dreams. People lost sobriety. People lost their sense of safety, and whether they have admitted it or not, some people lost their faith.

All that to say, a lot of people are not okay right now, and that likely includes you or someone you love very much. During 2020, global cases of major depressive disorder increased by 27.6 percent. That’s an estimated 53.2 million more people than the year prior. Anxiety disorders increased by 25 percent. There was more anxiety to start with, so that increase amounted to around 76.2 million more people.4 Of course, that’s just counting the people we know about. So many others haven’t sought help, so we don’t have reliable confirmation. But like diabetes or heart disease, the diagnosis doesn’t create reality; it just points it out. Maybe you haven’t been formally diagnosed with depression, anxiety, or another mental health problem, but that doesn’t mean what you are struggling with isn’t real.

For the first time during my career, a significant number of mental health professionals have waiting lists. We can barely keep up with the demand. And from college kids to clergy, Christians are by no means exempt. At Christian colleges and universities, the number of students contacting campus counseling centers for issues like stress, depression, addictions, and suicidal thoughts also rose sharply.5 The pastors striving to lead these young people as part of their congregations found themselves struggling too. In an October 2021 Barna study, pastors were asked to rate their well-being across six dimensions. Nearly a quarter of pastors surveyed identified as unhealthy overall, with emotional well-being the dimension most often rated as below average or poor.6

Hear ye, hear ye! Knowing Jesus guarantees your salvation; it does not guarantee your emotional health.

Reflecting on the lack of emotional awareness in the body of Christ, author Peter Scazzero writes this in his incredibly important book Emotionally Healthy Spirituality:

Christian spirituality, without an integration of emotional health, can be deadly — to yourself, your relationship with God, and the people around you... Sad to say, that is the fruit of much of our discipleship in our churches.7

He goes on to say that “a failure to appreciate the biblical place of feelings within our larger Christian lives has done extensive damage, keeping free people in Christ in slavery.”8 As a therapist and as a minister, I see this over and over and over. Christians haven’t had a scriptural model for understanding the critical role of the heart, so our response efforts have been unbalanced. But now you know that

your emotional well-being influences every other dimension of your life, including your spirit.

Remember, the words of the Kingdom are constantly being sown in the ground of your heart, so nourishing the fertility of that sacred seedbed is Kingdom work. Living a powerful life requires you to embrace how your spirit, mind, and behavior work together seamlessly. That means approaching your own heart as a garden rather than a war zone where you’re constantly battling your emotions. Eden is our model for flourishing. The seeds of the garden of Eden were sown on good ground. That ground is our hearts.

Your heart is the soil of your life."

Tab Time, season 1, episode 1, “How Things Grow,” produced by Tabitha Brown, published December 1, 2021, YouTube video, 22:34, https://youtu.be /zUTZEk32tc8.

Erika Krull, “Grief by the Numbers: Facts and Statistics,” The Recovery Village Drug and Alcohol Rehab, May 26, 2022, https://www.therecoveryvillage.com /mental-health/grief/grief-statistics/.

“WHO COVID-19 Dashboard,” World Health Organization, accessed April 19, 2023, https://covid19.who.int.

Damian F. Santomauro et al., “Global Prevalence and Burden of Depressive and Anxiety Disorders in 204 Countries and Territories in 2020 Due to the COVID- 19 Pandemic,” The Lancet 398, no. 10312 (November 2021): 1700–12, https://doi.org/10.1016/S0140–6736(21)02143–7.

Helen Huiskes, “It Takes a Campus: Pandemic Expands Mental Health Resources at Christian Colleges,” Christianity Today, December 17, 2021, https:// www.christianitytoday.com/news/2021/december/christian-college-mental -health-counseling-pandemic-demand.html.

“38% of U.S. Pastors Have Thought About Quitting Full-Time Ministry in the Past Year,” Barna, November 16, 2021, https://www.barna.com/research/pastors -well-being/.

Peter Scazzero, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality: It’s Impossible to Be Spiritually Mature, While Remaining Emotionally Immature (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2017), 9, 44.

Scazzero, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, 44.

Excerpted with permission from The Garden Within by Dr. Anita Phillips, copyright Dr. Anita L. Phillips.

[monsoonblooms12]

The Butterfly Effect (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: The Journey from where it all began to where they are now. From a 2-minute power nap to a Miami kiss, Pooja and Ethan have come a long way. From Pooja's POV (Set in OH Bk 1 Ch 10 and contains flashbacks from OH Bk 1 Ch 1, Ch 4 and Ch 5)❤

The Butterfly Effect: Discovered by Edward Lorenz, this theory suggests that something small and insignificant, can alter situations in such a way that leads to utterly drastic changes. For example, a butterfly flaps its wings at an Amazonian Jungle and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe. (This has to be one of my favorite theories ever🦋)

A/N: I got inspired from a dark Academia quote and here we are with 2.4K of mess. But I enjoyed providing all the fbs from Poo's POV and filling in the gaps of the unknown. And all the DbC peeps, I am trying to finish ch 8 believe me😭

Thank you so much to @jamespotterthefirst for Pre-reading! Love you🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🦋

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 2.4K

Rating: General

Category: A messy mix of Fluff and Angst

Warnings: None that I found

A grain of sand, almost imperceptible to the human eye, 2 millimetres in diameter. Just a tiny little grain of sand, a single one. One would wonder how great of an effect that could produce?

A single grain of sand, eliminated from the base of a sand sculpture, can set on fire a cascade of events that result in something as drastic as the demolition of the entire sculpture. Just a trifling 2 mm sized grain of sand.

Tufts of hair gently swayed with the swooshing ocean breeze, the very grains of sand of which her mind was thinking about slip through gaps of her toes. It's a calming atmosphere, having a Zen-like effect on her racing heart and confused reasoning.

The echoing crash of ocean tides, the hushed ruffle of her shimmering purple dress, and the pattern of her footsteps of the white sand, now silver under the enchanting moonbeams.

She could not think about bad ideas and good ideas anymore. Nor could she obliterate the delicate touch of peach lips ingrained in her mind. Everything was a lock of tangled hair, a chaotic mess in her mind.

And when you can't disentangle a mess, you just tear it off.

That was what she was doing, tearing herself away before her mind got engulfed by a cocoon of ambiguity and concealed probabilities, restricting her to get out without getting transformed into someone else.

Legs exhausted after strolling for who knows how long, Pooja sits down, not bothering about the sheet of sand fragments that adhered begrudgingly to the purple satin.

A simple motion ensues, the florid hair tie holding her brown hair strands in a ponytail, now lay in her hand, giving them the liberty to enjoy the tranquillity of the idyllic scene they found themselves in.

Relaxation. That was what she anticipated. The soothing of her racing heart, the clearing of her muddled head, the easing of her bothering thoughts.

But it never came, the relaxation she desired.

Instead, her fingers, for a reason mysterious even to her, fidgeted the diamond imitation bracelet that embellished her left wrist. A twitch unveiled a vague scar, a remembrance of an old episode entirely cleared off from her mind.

Flashback

Pooja was a Potterhead. An extreme one indeed. Sometimes the thought made her chuckle. How she despised the books once, presuming they were overrated. And then, as if a magic trick had been performed on her, she became the Maven of the Harry Potter club.

But being a Potterhead and having to live in a niche under the stairs did not go hand in hand. The room under a staircase was still a room under a staircase. And every day, her mind replayed the poem of curses to her, as if to warn her to never search for an apartment on a Facebook Group ever again.

And now she stood, waiting for the century-old toaster's ping, as sleep struck like pin-pricks on her eyelids, threatening to close them off. It was a bad day today, the phone battery drained, and she, coffee drained. And the cherry on the top? Today was the first day of her residence at the most prestigious hospital in the entire States.

Uff!

She yawned the hundredth time, sleep playing a tiring game of chess with her mind, and giving it a Check! every now and then.

I don't even know a goddamn coffee shop around in here!

Displeased grunts accompanied the thought as she took the knife and began slicing the apple she had been floundering around for quite some time.

One Slice, and Another, and Ano-

Snorr!

What an ability it was to fall asleep anywhere, in any position! What harm would a "Power Nap" of a minute or two do? Right?

AAHHH!

The scream came out in bits, first when her eyes fluttered open with the sudden pain. A pause followed when she actually looked at the source of it and after her eyes and mind registered what was happening, came the second scream.

She was getting the taste of just how profitable the power nap was.

Hurrying away, she rummaged around for a first aid box, failed to find it, trotted to her Harry Potter adobe and took out the medical goodies she had brought with her. After ransacking through it, she found the antiseptic and the swabs she was looking for. Then a faint sound came from the blinking cellular and she picked it up, not waiting for breakfast. Just as she clicked the unlock button...

HOLY SHIT!

What? How? Her mind could not register. The only thing she understood was that she was notoriously late for her first day, and now she would have to do all the running that she had avoided for all the preceding years.

Letting out another pained groan, she kicked two flowerpots on her way to the kitchen, took the toasted slices of bread, switched off the stupid piece of machinery and ran.

She was sure she would have come first in any marathon if she had run in them with the speed she was racing right now.————————————————————————

Did she know about Dolores Hudson? No, she didn't. Had she planned on telling about her to Dr Ramsey? No, she hadn't.

The two words had inadvertently slipped off her tongue, not envisioning it as an indication. But as soon as they reached his ears, it felt as if a domino had been pushed. One pushed on to the other, leading to a chain of events that had given no hints, no warnings at all.

And now she was in the NICU, chatting with the man whom she considered an idol, a role model as if they were old companions. It was an enchanting experience to see the intern-terrorizing gentleman, so ... normal.

She questioned her mind's choice of word, but she did not completely disagree. To see Dr Ramsey, sitting here with an intern, talking with her, for no particular purpose other than the fact that she decided to stay back here in contrast to any other person, who would have valued their sleep than watching over a premature baby with whom she had no connection.

When sleep muddled her thoughts, she didn't realize what she was doing. Head lowered into his shoulder in a motion that felt like a reflex embedded in the nerve cords of her spine. She missed the gentle smile, decorating the handsome face of his, as he watched her from the corner of his eye, his eyes holding an emotion unrecognizable.

Was it affection? Pride? Adoration? Or something completely different? Who knew.

But if there was something she did know after that day, it was that she felt lucky, damn lucky, for that slip of the tongue.————————————————————————

How idiotic of her the decision was, she didn't want to talk about it.

Pooja had only found herself running the way she was running now on the first day of her residence, and she had only herself, and no one else to blame.

Why did she think that giving up on the most wanted position for every medicine intern in Edenbrook for friends when every one of them participated in it was a good idea?

If only her brain comprehended her priorities appropriately, she wouldn't have to rush through roads like a person who was missing their train.

Panting, grunting, and completely tensed, she arrives at Edenbrook. Steps don't slow down until she arrives before the light beige door, huffs and puffs, not pausing for a split second. She doubted if her legs still had the power to walk or if she would have to crawl into the office.

Nah, no more embarrassment, she would not be able to bear it. With the power that remained in overworked limbs, she knocked, entered and gave her reasons for the delay. And then, by a margin of a minute, she signed the sheet, absolutely normal but still holding the power to twist her entire life in an unforeseen way.

But did she regret it? She couldn't, and she wouldn't.————————————————————————

Miami. The city of gorgeous beaches, giving the aesthetic of peach and teal life. The expensive marble-floored hotel rooms in which she found herself was unreal. Definitely not made for some random intern.

Gorgeous decorated interior, delicately manicured lawns, elegantly made fountains, all standing majestically, giving a fight to each other. She glided through the vast space, joy overcoming job as she breathed the calming salty air coming from the oceanfront, which appeared like a picture frame in front of her. She had never seen anything so perfect in her life.

It was like Ataraxia.

She preferred Mountains over Beaches. She always had, and without a doubt, she always will. But when something looks so heavenly, it would be absolute stupidity to forego the chance of visiting it, even if it contrasted her preferences.

Forgetting the not-so-pleasant interaction with Declan Nash, which appeared like a stone in her perfect day, she let her sensations delve into the delicious culinary masterpieces that melted in her mouth like wax.

All the merrymaking and socializing drained her. But the gentle talks, soft giggles that she shared with him, an extraordinary, priceless moment, seemed to charge her, rejuvenate her. A corner of her heart did hope for something to happen. But she hushed it, not wanting to spoil the casualness, the beauty of the simplicity that blew in the air between them.

It felt like existing in the setting of one of those Michael Faudet quotes, one of them particularly being emphasized by her mind.

"As our eyes meet, all-time seizes to exist. The dying second frozen like petals of red roses kissed by autumn frost."

Pooja's mind still reeled, falling freely into the void as passion and some unnamed emotion overtook them. His heart steady under the touch of her palm and hers racing under the touch of his. She would not be able to remove the unreal image from her idiot of a heart, even if she wanted to.

Sleep refused to come to her, even after calling it repeatedly. She sat up, relieving the memory, playing in front of her like a sepia movie on the silver screen. Eyes travelling around, only to fall on a bouquet kept neatly at one of the antique corner tables.

It was white lilies and purple orchids.

Pooja Sharma didn't know the language of flowers when she received them, with a tag casually signed as E. A vague tag like that did not help to know the actual sender. The man whom she kissed had a name beginning with E, the hotel she was staying in had a name beginning with E.

Hell, even the hospital she worked in had a name with the letter E.

But if she had known the language of flowers, she would have pinpointed the symbolism hidden in it.

The White Lily carrying the meaning of Purity, Sweetness while Purple Orchids a clear cut indicator of admiration and elegance.

She would have been able to tell which E had sent the delicately wrapped piece that now lay uncared for in the corner of her room.

Feelings overcrowded reason, and she found herself suffocated in the very room that seemed heavenly to her in the morning.

Slowly and silently, she walked away to find the solace which he or she could not give her, in nature.

Flashback ends

As the amaranthine ocean glistens, waves crash and the foamy water rushes to engulf her feet as she stood, hands wrapped around herself, she felt she had truly found solace. There was a spiral, an unending coil of memories, a string which, when pulled, tugged in emotions hidden in darkest corners, forgotten but related, all tied together.

It was surprising, enigmatic, how much the little brain of hers, the soft heart of hers, holds in them. A constant battle of reason and emotions ravage the tired battlefields of her body. How casually, reminiscences of a bygone day appears, flicker like the reflection in the mirror of the calm pond water, but remain clear through the ripples that spread on the surface from time to time. That's how memories work, still clear, still dear, even after passing through chaotic ripples of time.

As she reaches the end of the spiral, the helix of her thoughts, she finds herself even more astonished than she was when she reverted to the first pages of the memoirs of her stay in Boston.

It was just a minute, or a word or two. Always so insignificant.

Every ignored act added one upon another and resulted in the catastrophic mess of heartbreak and affection she found herself today.

The 2-minute Power Nap of her first day? It led to the 2-degree shift of the knife and the scar that her finger was tracing now.

That 2-degree shift led to the delay in her reaching the hospital?

It resulted in her meeting her mentor, which gave her the chance to do the thoracotomy with him, to experience how it felt when his hand enveloped hers.

Those two words that slipped as a nonchalant thought off her tongue? It was why she could know how Ethan Ramsey was, behind the tough exteriors, the short-tempered demeanour, how it felt to place her head gently on his shoulder, to wake up to his glowing face.

And that one minute past midnight, when she signed up for the challenge that would change her life? That is why she is here, hair ruffling and eyes glistening, the Leucos Moon reflecting on the glistening water, the crepuscule spread mystically around her. That is why she knew how it felt to be touched by him, kissed by him, to get lost in him.

When Edward Lorenz discovered the butterfly event, he had correlated mathematics and meteorology. Had he thought that the same butterfly effect had turned an unassuming intern's life upside down, pushed her so back in the void of circumstances that it was impossible to come back?

Just a 2-degree shift of a knife, and now she was here in Miami. Just like the unassuming butterfly's flap of wing, which now ravaged a storm through her life.

Glassy droplets make a slow trail down the curve of her cheeks and drop on the scar as if trying to meet the origin which has brought her to the coordinates of the present.

And even though she did not know what would happen in the days to come, she was happy, truly happy, for that shift of her knife and for the 2 minutes of the power nap.

For the butterfly effect of love.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

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[ddaehyeon]

。✧ hyacinth; park serim + reader

— pairing: fashion designer!park serim + photographer!reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, exes au, post-breakup, slightly suggestive (one scene only!)

— word count: 7.1k

— warning: arguments, heartbreak, mentions of anxiety and emptiness

— summary: years had passed since you broke up with serim; life had been continuously patching up ever since. his name had marked several clothing lines, while your studio was well-known in the small city you lived in. who would’ve known that a sight of him on a bus stop would be enough to bring back wounds you thought had long ago healed?

— navi: playlist | video teaser | cravity masterlist

— a/n: my wips suffered from a major slump and this is quite an overdue fic (i also have another overdue fic help) but i hope someone would still at least read this though >< the first ver of this didn't satisfy me and though this ver didn't satisfy me that much, i feel like after rewriting almost half of the fic, this one's better. i'll do my best to pull something better soon!

autumn must be the most magical part of the year. the leaves experiencing a color alteration, scarlets and golds carpeting the ground— a yearly harvest of the earth where everything was gradually being taken away. long gone was the heat of the summer; the chilly evening breeze sure was much friendlier than of winter. the season served as a comforting quilt. it was such a great time for warm drinks that could lift up the mood even for the wariest.

you let go of a breath as you stared at the window, the sun was setting. the color fleshed out in the sky golden, jiving well with the surrounding that was already of the same palette. with an indoor shoot for a seasonal issue of a magazine, it sure was a tiring day. the sound of camera clicks still ringing in your head, along with the hushed talks and chitchats coming from the staff members and the models.

at first, you were hesitant to accept the project. afraid that you’d bump by one of the renowned fashion designers in your region, park serim. but then, you couldn’t just chicken out when a hefty sum was to be paid. the relief you had when you saw that his name wasn’t on the list of designers was almost the same kind of relief you'd have after preventing big trouble from occurring.

“i finished placing back the props in the room.” hyeongjun’s voice was still as bright as it was this morning as if not touched by any fatigue. he was one of the photographers you hired in your studio, offering only fine shots. “i’ll be going home early, just send me a message about what time tomorrow’s shoot will be!”

“thank you, junie.” a smile was on your brim as you nodded on his words, watching him pack his camera and leave afterward.

silence melted in the room as soon as hyeongjun stepped out. alone in your photography studio, you sat on a stool used earlier by one of the models. the room was dimly lit with only one of the umbrella lights open. it was only by then that you realized your thighs were already stiff from the nonstop work earlier. you wanted to go home and just be in the comforts of your bed.

pulling out your phone, you dialed your brother’s number, frowning when it took him quite a while to pick up. was he busy or did he just forget that he was supposed to pick you up tonight?

jungmo would always fetch you by your studio after his working hours concluded. with the two of you living together in the same house, your brother just found it ideal— bringing you to your work every morning and giving you a drive home every evening. it might seem like he was babying you, but it was a gesture you grew fond of.

“y/n?” jungmo gasped on the other line. it seemed like he was outside, music playing in the background which mingled well with the peals of laughter. “shit, i forgot to tell you.”

you raised a brow, questioning his words. “what’s the matter?”

“can’t fetch you today.” you can already envision the pout he had on his lips. “i’m at a party with allen and woobin, catching up with my colleagues. i’ll make it up to you tomorrow, i promise!”

“alright. i’ll just ride the bus then.” it was your turn to purse your lips. you can’t bring yourself to complain about it though. “have fun! just stay in woobin’s apartment tonight, don’t drive!”

“i will, i will,” jungmo replied, a call of his name following. his friends might’ve been looking for him already. “text me alright? get home safely, y/nie.”

at the end of the phone call came another sigh from you. a tightlipped smile braced your lips as you stood to turn off the remaining lights. you retrieved your camera and placed it back in one of the drawers. making sure everything was back to its place, secured; you gave the place one final look. something you’d do every single day before going home. a reminder of the thing you loved the most. a reminder of what could have been.

the sidewalk wasn’t as empty as you imagined it to be, maybe you weren’t used to walking to the bus stop anymore. strangers of different day occurrences exchanged various looks that shared one same element, tiredness.

when the wind blew, fallen leaves danced along with it. the slight coldness making you tuck your hands inside the pocket of the cardigan you were wearing. you loved the cool breeze, but not when you knew you had to stay out on an open shed with it as your companion. cold weather could be your friend, a company for a better evening sleep. but rather a harsh fellow when you had to be alone, when loneliness can easily be injected to your senses.

tracing the path, a memory went to play in your head. way back in college, this was the same sidewalk you’d walk in with your ex-lover. a camera on your hand while he had a roll of satin in his arms. it was such a usual view for the two of you as you talked about how the day went, ranting about the monotonous lectures, gushing over how you missed each other’s company and how you wished that the two of you could get back to your shared apartment as soon just so you can snuggle on the couch.

you glanced at the sky, the cloud hiding the few scattered twinkling stars. a faint smile spread upon your lips, only to disappear when your gaze went back to the bus stop. the male that passed by in a form of fleeting memory earlier was standing right in front of you as if fleshed out from your mind. a lavender-colored paper bag was hanging on his arm, the logo of his product line delicately stamped on the middle. his phone was resting on his other hand, if he was scrolling through sns or texting someone, you weren’t sure.

the magical feeling he used to offer long gone, your stomach twisting into several knots. a cold sensation went down in your spine as a familiar tug came to pull your heartstring. he’s back? what is he doing here? he lives here again?

your thoughts were loud in your head, but none of it was pulled out loud. each word ending up as a lump in your throat. the air was thickening, your heart beating fast, not out of excitement, but out of the clashing thoughts that left you so nervous and confused. it had been years, how come a single sight of him made you feel like all your resolutions are gone? how did a single sight of him become enough to shatter the glass that protected you from the ache that night had caused you?

it was cold. but no, it was no longer because of the autumn breeze.

“serim?” the name was uttered in the same way you would before everything came crashing, yet it held a much weaker tone. you can’t even remember the last time your voice came to wrap around the syllables of his name.

the male turned his head to look at you, a brow raised as he stared at you. no obvious emotion, his eyes held no recognition.

and his reply? it sent a shiver down your spine, your stomach flipping in a horrendous manner.

“who are you?”

for a moment, the air caused such a nauseous feeling— thin and hard to inhale. it was only three words, yet it was powerful enough to serve as a punch in the gut.

how can he forget?

how can he forget how the two of you first met?

not that it was a very momentous event, just a regular struggle faced by two college students that needed someone else to accomplish a project for a major subject. there were no butterflies involved, nor did sparks fly the moment you met. regardless, up until now, that day burned fresh in your mind.

“i know someone from that department,” woobin said without even looking at you, his eyes focused on his book. though you weren’t sure if he was really paying attention to the words written there as he kept on diving in the conversation every now and then.

“and who might that be?” the dreadful task of having to pair up with the design department had been inhabiting your mind ever since it was given to you. pressure rising as you saw your other blockmates having no hard time getting themselves out there and communicating with the department they weren’t really accustomed to. you still have a month and a half, you were sure you can still make it. it was just a photoshoot anyway, featuring your partner’s designs.

“park serim,” woobin finally answered as if he had to think hard of the person’s name. “i think no one had asked him to become their partner, he’d be available to do it.”

desperate to get over with the task, later that day, you found yourself by the catwalk the design students would take. it was a path that connected their building to the main gate directly. your building wasn’t exactly far away from theirs, but still of a different building. with their building equipped with supplies and machineries for final products, yours were of computers, lightings, and screens.

you stared at your phone, his instagram profile opened. earlier, you already took the pleasure of checking his works out and without much filtering, him as well. he sure does love taking pictures of himself; something that could work perfectly with him being your subject. once satisfied, you left him a dm that was probably one of the most awkward sentences you had ever typed in the entirety of your life.

a notification popped out as you look at your screen, which was shortly followed by another. it was only of common courtesy to follow him before asking him for a favor right? you did that before messaging him and now he followed you back and replied to your dm. unlike you, he didn’t spend much time wandering in your profile. well, as if he had so much to look unto aside from the sceneries and some stories posted.

‘you were the person woobin was talking about? i’ll be out in two minutes. see you in the catwalk.’

it wasn’t too long of a duration, you allowed yourself to simply jump from a social media to another, mindlessly scrolling and liking some post every now and then. only lifting your head up when a wave of students began getting out of the establishment. most were holding mannequins with unfinished clothing attached to them, some were holding rolls of fabrics you weren’t sure what to call.

with squinted eyes, you tried to look for him among the crowds. woobin said that serim was a fashion design major, so he’d probably be holding the same thing as the other students that came out.

and he was.

leaning on his shoulder was a mannequin, asymmetrically dressed in silk. it wasn’t sewn yet, only supported by sewing pins. an arm wrapped around a roll of what seemed to be linen of pastel blue color. there was also a paper bag hanging on his arm which seemed to have some extra fabric and maybe some other supplies.

you walked towards him with a wave to which he gave you a confused look at first, the frown melting away when he realized that you were the one who messaged him not even an hour ago.

“you’re y/n?” he asked, merely to confirm.

you nodded your head and offered a hand in carrying the paper bag. something he didn’t refuse to. “so…” unsure of how to bring up the means of meeting with him after his class, your voice trailed.

“what do you need anyway?” he supported your words as he traced the path of the sidewalk. “take pictures of me or take pictures of the clothes i make?”

“both.” a chuckle left your lips, laced with nothing but sheer abashment, at the same time mentally cursing this project. you were okay with taking pictures, but the negotiation that comes with it wasn’t a task you were so used to doing.

serim hummed, saying an almost inaudible ‘i see’ before taking a big step and stopping in front of you to do a curt observation. his gaze trailing from toes up to your shoulder. “i’ll agree to do it, if you’ll model for me for a project.”

blinking your eyes multiple times, a baffled frown came to mask your countenance. “what?”

“i need a model that will wear the dress i’m doing by the end of the semester,” serim uttered nonchalantly, proceeding to turn his back to you and resume walking. “that would be quits.”

“i’ll do it,” you said, despite still being hesitant. having close to zero knowledge about how such a presentation would work, you were so close to disagreeing. but then again, it would only be a good way to repay him, right? and perhaps the other fashion design students would ask you of the same thing if you try to team up with them.

turning to look at you, there was a curve that formed on his brim. “that’s a deal then.”

how can he forget how the two of you confessed to each other?

two months. it took two months of random meet ups, daily conversations, and occasional hanging out to get to know each other. the awkward messages of checking up on each other’s side of the project turned to asking about each other’s day, sharing rants about academic life or life in general. the occasional hanging out turning to planned dates and spontaneous ones when the two of you both have the time to spare.

you’d usually stay in his unit as he worked on the dress for his project, a clothing that perfectly suits your figure. late night talks induced by the slightest energy given by coffee the two of you had clung into in hopes of being able to finish what was due.

it seemed like time flew by and before you knew it, you were in the backstage. serim was pacing back and forth, more nervous than you were. he wasn’t the one that was going to the stage, but sure his body was restless.

“are you alright?” you asked him once the two of you were left alone in the dressing room.

this was enough for serim’s movement to come to a halt. even when his eyes landed on you, it was obvious that his mind was floating. in fact, it even took him hot seconds before he was able to commit to a verbal response. “i am.”

“you are?” a smile broke out of your countenance which was eventually followed by a chuckle. “are you sure with that?”

your laughter was adequate to ease his nerves a little, a curve appearing on his lips. “i am.”

one of his classmates who was in charge of the flow came knocking to the door, signalling that you should be on standby.

“i’ll do my best,” you said, walking toward the door. it would be a definite lie to say that you were not at all nervous. a deep breath taken before twisting the knob, stopping when serim called you. it was covered with a bit, yet noticeable hesitation that it made you cock a brow for a moment.

“good luck.” it was all that he uttered, along with a gesticulation of him raising both fists. though serim’s mind spoke of different words, words he had little courage to let go of. at least not yet at that moment.

you gave him a smile, nodding your head afterward. “thank you.”

and off you go.

roaring crowds and camera clicks; the auditorium set up for the use of the fashion design students as they exhibit their works through their chosen models. formerly, you’d find yourself among the crowds, snapping pictures and admiring the clothes done by the other students. but this time, you found yourself clothed in a floral print silk-blend asymmetrical dress designed by serim himself.

the lights were blinding, being always part of the photographers, you were quite accustomed with how you were part of the persons behind the camera lense. serim was in the dressing room, watching the runway from the screen that displayed the live broadcast. some of your friends were among the crowds, your older brother even telling you before the show started that he’d be sure to take pictures of you.

fortunately, the few days of practice didn’t go to waste, no major mistakes happened when you modeled serim’s design. perhaps the only problem was you were a little stiff, something too trivial for some audience to notice.

as soon as you stepped by the backstage, serim’s proud smile welcomed you. unable to rest in the dressing room once he saw you getting out of the stage, he practically ran to meet you behind the curtains.

his eyes were filled with adoration, not just for the dress he finished making, but for the overall beauty you radiated. without much thought, he walked closer to you, soon wrapping you in an embrace. tight, yet gentle.

“you did well, y/n,” serim whispered, not letting go.

a soft chuckle was heard from you, your cheeks burning. “you did well,” you corrected. “please, it’s your design.”

“thank you.” releasing you, a smile lingered on his visage. “i’ll make you a better dress in the future.”

“you don’t have to, but thanks,” you replied before the two of you sunk into silence. regardless of how the surrounding was of heavy music and cheers, peace had found its way to emanate in the dimmed part of the area.

no words spoken, yet feelings poured when serim leaned closer. his lips easily capturing yours enough to make your heart pound in your chest, louder than it did while you were in the catwalk.

serim broke the kiss, his lips still close with yours. his eyes were of another glow when he uttered a set of words, familiar yet foreign. “i love you.”

once again, you were under his spell. soft kiss turning into a sloppy one once he guided you to a more secluded area. it would be such a waste to rip the dress off given that it was an original design, yet as the person who sewn each part of the clothing you were wearing, serim had his way to resolve the small dilemma.

the surrounding was silenced, your body frail under each of his touch, breath taken away, chest heaving. sure, it was a night you won’t be able to forget.

how can he forget about how the two of you practically lived with each other for years?

the exuberance exuded while the two of you carried several boxes into an empty unit you called home. maybe it wasn’t really about the place, but it was who you were with. his arms served as a shelter. his hand caught tears of both happiness and sadness. his lips pressed affection that no one else could offer. everywhere with serim was of comfort, of tranquility— a home.

living with another person, being under a single roof wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to adjust to. throughout the first few months of living together, your head was filled with memories of sheer trial and error as the two of you tried to learn the curves. this included adjusting for each other or at least compromising for what the other likes that the other doesn’t. silly mistakes became such a fond memory.

the smell of burnt food that wafted in the air when the two of you decided to stay on the balcony while cooking dinner. astonished by the stars and the almost endless stories that passed on both lips the meal you were preparing was left neglected. that night, the two of you shared bitter food of dark exterior, quite hard to swallow. but the laughter that filled the house after the incident lifted up each other’s mood. despite the bad-tasting meal, it was probably one of the best dinners you had in that apartment.

it didn’t end there. who would forget about the laundry disaster that rendered one of serim’s white long sleeves saturated with colors you weren’t sure what to call. the mixture of forget-me-not blue and azalea pink stood as the most distinguishable pigment along with the other colors. serim only let out of a chuckle at what occurred, even joking that maybe the two of you could start a business of dying white clothing in such a way.

the best memory thus far was a late-night run by the convenience store when the two of you were chasing a morning deadline. a grumbling stomach that broke the mutual silence the two of you exchanged, along with a suspecting look that ended up with laughter.

“let’s buy some food,” serim suggested, removing the tape measure from his shoulder and settling it to the mannequin.

you hit save on your laptop, the editing could wait for a few minutes.

pulling yourself off the chair, you gazed at him with a smile. it wasn’t a surprise that he had the same beam, as bright as the morning, regardless of how the evening was already crawling onto the whole city. sometimes, you wondered how a simple smile could give you so much energy. what kind of magic does a beam flashed by the person you love hold?

a few snacks picked up by the convenience store; a bag in his hand, your hand on the other as the two of you walked back to your unit. the evening sky and the soft gush of wind amplifying the peacefulness provided by the city. no words were exchanged, yet the silence was enough of a word.

deadlines momentarily escaping the mind as you allowed yourself to be engulfed by his presence. his soft voice breaking the silence, the phrase that left his lips drew a curve on your lips. “i love you, y/n.” you weren’t looking at him, but you could perceive the smile he had. “so much.”

“i know,” you replied.

serim’s steps became slower as he looked at you, waiting for the actual response. with a tilted head and shining eyes that reflected your figure and the street lights, his gaze didn’t waver.

a chuckle left your lips, finding yourself lost in his eyes for a moment. “i love you too, serim.” you squeezed his hand, cueing him to continue walking. “so much.”

sighing out of content, a radiant smile decorated his lips.

at that moment, the two of you wished nothing more but just to be next to each other for as long as life would grant you.

how can he forget about your first anniversary?

it wasn’t grand, just the two of you sitting by the balcony. the bouquet he bought abandoned on the dinner table as the two of you gushed over plans you were sure were realistic enough to be achieved. your eyes twinkling with mirth, a lifetime with him sure was the ideal one you’d want to spend.

“y/n,” despite being just beside you, serim called.

you looked at him with a brow raised, catching his eyes on yours. “mhm?”

a smile simply spread onto his lips before he broke the gaze. his hand seeking for an item inside the pocket of his hoodie, a small box retrieved afterward. there, a necklace sat. the pendant was of a ring that was not entirely decorated with fancy stones, rather a lone blue sapphire stone was on it.

“the pendant is a promise ring,” serim explained before scooting closer to you. his hand reached for the back of your head while the necklace rested on your skin. he locked the jewelry on your neck, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead after.

you were silent the whole time, not because you didn’t like the gesture. but because you were sure words wouldn’t be enough to express the satisfaction and light feeling that was blanketing your heart.

serim had a faint smile as he admired the necklace for a moment. just like you, his heart was in an ocean of peaceful joy. lifting his head to look at you directly, he gave your lips a light peck. “i’ll buy you a better one once we’re ready for it.”

“thank you.” your countenance mirrored the same expression serim had— of joy and serenity. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” serim leaned in for another quick kiss, swift yet lingering. “i can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you.”

the evening droned on and on with the two of you staying by the balcony, exchanging conversations about the future. two hearts in one home, seemingly able to find the path where both can hold each other’s hand. minds filled with dreams where the other can also be spotted. a considerably spacious studio apartment became the foundation of your plans and dreams.

aspirations that soon became the neglected cause of why your relationship with him gradually crumbled down.

how can he forget about your very first fight?

gazes that held no definite emotion, silence that cut through the air— it was all an unfamiliar experience, hard to swallow. something that you weren’t able to forget easily as it was the first time you’ve ever seen serim with such a cold expression.

the coaster of shows on the television had long passed, a few recaps played. something that wasn’t really able to get a hold of your attention. your mind drifting elsewhere and the few notifications appearing on your phone were the only ones that managed to pull you out of your daze momentarily.

“where’s serim?” for the nth time that day, you asked. the room was quiet with only a few chatters from the screen in front of you. the evening was growing older and older, but you haven’t received any message about serim's whereabouts. neither had he sent you a message the whole afternoon.

worried, you opted to stay up and wait for him. even prepared a meal that can be easily heated so he can have something to eat once he arrives in case he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

with the door clicking, you were quick to get off the couch. the faint footsteps signaling you right away.

“you’re finally home,” you said, a smile easily located on your brim. only for it to melt away at the sight of serim’s stern look. his gaze piercing through, enough for chills to trace your spine.

he walked past you, not even offering you the regular hugs and kisses he would do every time he’d arrive. all that was left were cold stares. something you attempted to break. and heck did you regret doing so.

“why haven’t you been answering your phone? have you already eaten?” the worry you had accumulated coming through in waves of questions.

a sigh was emitted out of his mouth as he went to get himself a drink. it seemed like a verbal response was not an option for him since he continued to ignore your questions. at this point, it was as if there was no one else in the room. it was like you weren’t there.

“did something happen, serim?”

a minute. it was all it took for the entirety of your relationship to come to an unknown turn. the curve strange, it crawled to the skin with such a frigid touch enough for your stomach to flip horribly.

“can you give me a break?” serim hissed, a glare shoot in your direction. his voice growing power word after word. your breath was taken away, how can words suffice to make you feel so small? he placed his glass on the sink, the item almost meeting its demise. he turned to look at you once again. “can’t you see, i’m tired?”

“i waited for you.” the words spilled out of your lips, disappointment hugging your tone.

“who told you to wait for me?” serim snarled and before you knew it, you were already standing on the same page. similar expression, different cause. yours were anchored in concern, while his were of fatigue from the whole day of heavy workload. those seemed to have lulled both of your senses, blinding each other.

“oh well, i was just worried about you because you didn’t send me a message the whole afternoon up to this point.”

“do i really need to report my actions to you?”

“no, but you have to at least tell me if you’re going home late.” your voice gradually softened, a tear held back.

no, you can’t cry. no, not in front of him. no.

“i was worried,” you broke out. but it wasn’t enough for his fumes to dissolve. like gasoline poured into flames, each of your replies only intensified the exasperation boiling in his stomach.

“i’m going to rest.” serim sigh was audible as he stormed off to your room, leaving you with tears in your eyes.

a minute.

it only took half a minute for everything to fall out of its order. that fight wasn’t the last one and each passing day, the unit you once called home was stuck with unfamiliarity.

it was no longer a home.

how can he forget about that night?

cold meals by the table had your eyes fixated on them. the date encircled in red, a supposedly special day that turned bitter. different from how you used to spend it before—of laughter and warm touches— serim wasn’t there. he was far too involved with projects that your shared unit only became a short shelter. words were barely exchanged, yet alone gazes. you still sleep on the same bed as him, but no warmth was offered.

you weren’t sure which was better, to continue living with him even if it felt like you weren’t living with him or to have him gone in your life for real. regardless of the turns that occurred, the continuous erosion of your relationship, you couldn’t find it to yourself to let go. still tied by your attachment to the former serim.

a sigh left your lips, desolated gaze trailing on the table. you tried. but it seemed like those attempts were futile. it takes two people’s efforts. you can’t revive a relationship alone.

switching place, you went to the living room and sat by the couch. the place dimly lit by a lone lampshade. the city lights filtering through the window. the air gradually thickened around you, it held your throat in a vice grip. the photographs displayed by the shelves were foreign to you, despite how it was simply you and serim. it was like you were staring at completely different people. smiles had long been taken away, touches had melted, flutters subsided— all that was left was a terrible feeling of helplessness. something that seemed to guide you to nowhere. you were lost.

before, you were sure of how the story was to be written. how the chapters were to unfold. but right now, you weren’t even certain what would be on the next page. it was like the next ones were torn from the spine, gone. oh hell, you weren’t even sure what page you were on right now or if the story was bound to be written in the first place.

serim’s arrival went unnoticed at first. only until you heard the clink of the glass meeting the sink did you turn in his direction. an empty gaze was earned and for some reason you found yourself offering him a faint smile. a small gesture packed in pain that was quick to course through your senses.

sighing had become his way of greeting. dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled look emanated how his work had been weighing him. but your mouth was closed regardless of how you wanted to speak of reassurance and praise. it was strange, the inability to speak of warm words around him. why were you so held by fear?

“serim,” you called, breaking the floating silence.

he looked at you, eyes deep like he was examining a piece of fabric. it was enough for your stomach to churn. the stillness continued after your call. you weren’t sure how to continue it; it was as if his name was unnatural in your tongue. not only was your breath sucked, but also all the possible words had dissipated.

yet again another sigh as he tore his gaze away, stepping towards the bedroom. “i’m so tired, y/n,” he uttered, setting a line for you to not cross onto. “very tired.”

resurfacing on your brim was a smile. your eyes weren’t exactly skillful of lying though as tears soon gathered on it. heart hollowed in emptiness as if a scream would echo on its wall. likewise, your voice decided to betray you— shaking. “serim, i’m getting tired too.”

for a swift moment, serim tried to come up with an answer. but just like you, comforting words seemed to be an unfamiliar language. even aware of how a look would be inadequate, he only stared at you. his eyes don’t speak of words nor radiated comfort— it was vacant. lowering his head, he carded his fingers on his hair before letting go of a breath.

serim finally stepped inside the bedroom.

and that was how the two of you parted ways.

how can he forget about you?

it went on and on in your head, the question continuously striking.

a gush of autumn breeze pulled you out of your daze. serim was still looking at you, his eyes slowly lightening with recognition. a few blinks and he spoke. “oh, wait.” he tilted his head to the side. “y/n?”

you weren’t exactly sure what kind of answer to give, but you gave it your best to offer a faint smile. “yes.”

still— despite how other people were walking on the sidewalk and how vehicles passed by the road, the surrounding seemed to come to a stillness you didn’t ask for. denying and pushing away the feelings you’ve long ago tried to bury and made yourself believe that you’ve healed from only brought a new wave of pain. as if you were its child, sadness came to hug you.

just in time, the bus arrived as if to save you from further drowning in emotions you didn’t wish to engulf you in. to your surprise, serim also boarded in. while you chose to sit somewhere just nearby the driver, he went to the last row.

usually, your rides on the way home were the most relaxing ones. a time to just stare at the window and watch the night spread into the city. it will always be accustomed by jungmo asking you on and on about how your day went and also sharing about how his day went. but your brother wasn’t around for that kind of support right now. and you can’t blame him for it. you can’t blame anyone for this unexpected meeting with the person you never knew you’d ever meet again.

the ride was sickeningly slow, all you wished was to get home and allow your voice to echo in your room. to release the emptiness if it was even possible to empty something that was already vacant. the sky held no comfort. its color dissipated and all that was left was an empty canvas that like a broken record, played memories. it was silly how despite those quick memories popping in and out of your mind, questions still managed to penetrate.

serim was living in another city, why did he ride the same bus? was he to meet his new lover? maybe to meet an old friend?

or did he perhaps mean to meet you? this was a guess you despised. the hope it brought that maybe an answer for all the questions formed that night were to be given tasted bitter in your mouth and offered restlessness in the heart.

an urge to talk to him surfaced, but then you asked yourself why. why would you want to talk to him? for what?

despite being curious about the reason why he left that night, a certain fear crawled onto your senses. the fear of knowing.

what could knowing his reasons possibly bring you?

the time when the two of you loved each other wasn’t of the best timing. two newly graduates seeking career growth, wanting nothing but to achieve various goals. those were dreams drawn with the other person placed as a part of it. however, during the process of achieving those, that same person where the aspiration was rooted gradually disappeared from the mind. the path the two of you promised to take together came at crossroads and you ended up taking something different from what he preferred to go to.

at first, there was a powerful yearning that made the two of you grow more fond of each other. but it was slowly replaced by numbness towards it, making love such a foreign word.

you understood. but it wasn’t something you had fully accepted.

a familiar shed came to flash on the window, your stop nearing. and when the vehicle finally came to a halt, you gave serim a final glance. he was looking at you, not moving from his seat. dismissing the contact, you walked down the bus and began tracing the sidewalk with heavy steps.

disappointment curled into your stomach when you arrived near your house, realizing that the recurring questions will not be answered. however, fate played its game. anxiousness arose when once again you heard your name wrapped around serim’s voice.

you turned to look at him, his lips hesitant to let go of a word.

serim was also in deep thoughts, mind all over the place despite how he already had the resolution to talk to you, not to explain and justify himself, but to apologize for the damage done.

“i’m sorry for that night,” serim began, the initial words already clinging into his chest, weighing down. “i should’ve been more honest with you and trusted you more with my struggles.”

there was nothing serim wanted but to prove himself worthy of you. achieve things that could make you be proud of him and deem him as someone who deserves you. working up to late hours, diving into designs in order to perfect his craft. the thing was, he forgot that you already loved him even when he was simply that serim. that you loved him as park serim.

blinded by the goal, the mean diminished. as he was too caught up with it, he was no longer striding towards it for you, but for himself.

“it was selfish of me to decide for something we both should be deciding for. i left that night thinking it was better that way without even considering how you will feel,” serim continued, his voice weakening. he lifted his hand as if to hold you, but stopped midway. it fell to his side as he breathed in. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.”

“i was hurt, but you were probably hurt as well.” the way those words left your lips ever so calmly surprised you. “it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but i hope we both learned from it.” a smile became evident on your visage. “promise me one thing serim, do not make the same mistake with your future lover.”

“i will not,” serim replied.

both of you never really imagined the end of your relationship and as the page of it was torn years ago, an ending was deemed impossible to earn. closing a book would never be that easy, but some stories were meant to end— yours included.

“also, this is for you.” serim handed you the paper bag he was holding. “i told you years ago that i’ll make you a better dress, and here it is. i figured that i wouldn’t be able to keep the promise laced on the ring i gave you before but i at least want to have one of my promises kept.”

you looked at the item for a moment before turning to serim once again. “thank you.”

“i also want you to know that i truly loved you.”

never at once did you doubt serim’s love for you. the thing about it is that people will grow and know love from a better perspective. know how to best keep it. know how to best show it. but it will not change the fact that back then, you felt that it was love.

serim had a single flaw and that was to hold everything to himself to the point that those created a wide gap between the two of you. the distance far enough that reaching his hand became impossible despite how you wanted to hold him.

and maybe during that time, parting was the best solution. and up to this point, it was too.

“it’s nice seeing you again, serim.”

“likewise, y/n.” a genuine smile crossed his lips. “goodbye?”

“goodbye.”

tonight, you gave him a piece of your heart. it was his, to begin with. whatever he was to do with it— keep it, throw it, crush it— it was a decision for him to make. keeping something that shouldn’t be there would only bring further destruction, it’s way better to have an empty spot in your heart rather than keep a damaged one.

the breeze embraced you. the goodbyes uttered were to serve as a beginning. there were new questions that formed and you knew there were tears that were yet to be spilled. but it was a start. opening a buried wound would never be pleasant, but it was way better to open it yourself than have it bare you.

staring at the newly planted hyacinth in the neighboring flower bed, you let go of a sigh. they will bloom in the spring. and you hoped that you would experience the same.

[lailoken]

“In his book The Return of the Dead: the transparent veil of the pagan mind Lecouteux exposes us to older definitions of ‘body’ and ‘soul’ that are ultimately heathen in origin. He shows in detail how Christianity went about ‘de-corporealising’ the soul and making it into an immaterial thing. To our ancestors there was no such thing as an ‘immaterial’ thing. Everything had a kind of body; some of them were just denser and more easily perceived by humans than others.

Emma Wilby also touches on this when she speaks of the question posed by many witch-interrogators: ‘did you do all this in your body or in spirit?’ Although Christianity was long established in Scotland by this time, these ancient ideas seem to have lingered on up until at least the seventeenth century. Today we feel very clear about what is meant when someone says ‘body’ because we are in the habit of believing that we have only one. We also believe that whatever the ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’ is, it is something that forms the natural opposite to the body and has less reality value.

If you can try to imagine that your mental universe does not have a concept of something that is ‘without substance’ then you will find it more possible to understand how the notion of ‘more than one body’ could exist. Not only were people able to send out a Double of themself, a less dense body that could travel great distances while the other body slept, but they were also able to expel an animal form from their body.

This notion of the animal form has come down to us in modern Traditional Witchcraft as the ‘fetchbeast’ or ‘familiar’. And for those who experienced the presence of one in the past, the animal was believed to be a tangible part of the body that could be expelled through the chest or the mouth of the sleeper and cause literal effects in the world, including being seen by others.

This close connection of the animal self to the person is particularly pronounced in ‘were animal’ phenomenon, where the person experiences an actual transformation of their physical body into the form of that animal. The real, though highly plastic animal form was able to impose the experience of itself over the experience of being a physical man. So that whilst a scientist would say that the man had not transformed into a beast in his body, a person at the time might have seen a ‘man-wolf.’

It is easy to see when we think about this, how the appreciation of something like a werewolf requires at least two people, or preferably a community. It requires a man who experiences his fetch-beast’s form over taking his man form, and it requires someone to perceive his beast form as altering the status and meaning of his man-form. Today we seldom have two such individuals in one space to be able to comment on these things that were understood parts of life for our predecessors.

So let us dig a little deeper to try and better understand the older way of seeing the body and soul and the Double that goes forth. In Eva Pocs book Between the Living and the Dead she describes how the ‘Double’ of a person was a believed to possess substance, a literal ‘second skin.’ As she puts it: ‘According to the documentation, the alter ego is imagined to be a physical reality. This means that it was not a soul but a second body; and while it was of a more spiritual nature, it also had physical reality.’

But not all visitations from the dead or travelling witches was a case of this ‘second skin’, there was also the notion of ‘the Shadow.’ The term ‘Shadow’ was in the past applied to the soul that lives on after death and can become detached from the body dreams or after death. Some records on witchcraft are unusually precise about what part of the spiritual complex of a person they are referring to. In one case a woman went into the room ‘and there she could not be experienced in her person, she just walked as a Shadow.’ Or: ‘Not Mrs Moricz herself, but her image walked with me as a Shadow.’

So when it is claimed that something happened ‘in the body before the eyes’ this may often refer to the second skin that was believed to be tangible. Not all dead people or all sleepers who roamed during their dreams seem to have possessed this second skin or perhaps to have known how to detach it from their other body. The Skin was often given to the witch by a spirit, such as in the case of the gift of an animal form that a witch may henceforth project her Shadow into and go forth.

The revenant (a potent type of ghost) also had this corporeality, something derived subtly from its corpse, which was deactivated if the dead body was destroyed or dismembered. As it was not unusual for the medieval and post medieval person to believe in Shadows and the real occurrence of dreamed events (more on this below) we are hitting upon a crucial point here. This ‘second skin’ that belonged to the witch, either in the form of a Double of themselves or an animal form, is one of the things that makes the difference between a witches nocturnal adventures and those of the ordinary dreamer. The ordinary dreamer goes forth in Shadow form, something that is generally invisible but may sometimes be perceived by those with The Sight, whereas the witch is able to project the Shadow into forms, as it testified to by the old term ‘dressed in forms.’

The expression ‘turnskin’ makes a lot of sense when one considers that to our forebears this meant the literal donning of another secret Skin. It also helps us to make sense of the notion of witches appearing in ‘someone else’s form’ or ‘riding’ them. We know revenants were able to use some subtle part of the corpse to send forth a second skin and that this only worked so long as the corpse remained intact. So we can deduce that all humans have such things but that only some humans have the gift of separating it out from the other body during life. We can deduce this because of the large amount of evidence to suggest that witches often stole or borrowed other people’s ‘Skins’ to get about the countryside disguised as them. This may have been simply for revenge or to implicate somebody else other than themselves but the tiring effects of being ‘hag ridden’ suggest another purpose behind this ‘skin taking.’ It is likely that sending forth the second skin requires a large power output from the witch and that, therefore, to send the Shadow out to occupy someone else’s and use their vitality instead has its advantages. To illustrate this I will present a detailed folkloric account of a witch attempting to ‘ride’ a man. The story was originally recorded in Appalachian dialect but I’ve rendered it in standard English:

‘I’m doubting if anyone can help me now. But I’m telling you this because when I die, I want you to know what killed me. Now, you know I never believed in witches but I’m afraid a witch is going to make a ghost of me. Every night of my life for the past three months, a witch has come through the keyhole [typical for a Shadow] to my bedroom. She changes me into a horse and puts a bridle on me and leads me outside. Then, she puts her witch saddle on my neck, plaits my mane into stirrups, jumps on my neck and rides as hard as she can till daylight. Then she brings me back to bed all petered out and there’s nothing I can do about it.’

This concept of being ‘hag ridden’ is in fact a form of possession, of a living person by a living person and the notion of riding the second skin allows us to explain the difference between standard dreams and ‘big dreams.’ We all know that there are some dreams that we have which seem quite insubstantial; our forebears would say that these dreams were true but that we only attended in our ‘Shadow.’ But those of us who feel called to witchcraft have often had experiences, open eyed experiences, lucid dreams or visions where we feel that we saw with, or were still in, our body. The ‘second skin’ separating from the physical skin and becoming filled with the Shadow, something that typically feels ‘very real’, can often explain these experiences of doing seemingly impossible things. It appears, given that the Shadow of a witch is attested over and over again to inhabiting the ‘Skin’ of other people, that the Shadow is the sentient part and the ‘Skin’ a kind of vessel.”

—

A Deed Without a Name:

Unearthing the Legacy of Traditional Witchcraft

by Lee Morgan

[fanfictionfansmiction]

Do Better

Here is a Remus reader insert, very angsty a lot of fun to write. So the night before you went to tell Remus how you feel about him but he shoots you down telling you it won’t work. But after speaking to Lily and James you are convinced to go and speak to him. Please do send in a request if you have one! And enjoy :)

Word Count: 2190

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He’d done it; Remus had shot you down. Firm and strong he told you that the two of you would just never work. In the dying light of the day, he kept his distance only looking you in the eye for one moment before he said it. Too guilty to even whisper your name. Far too cold to be the Remus you knew. He failed to deny his feelings toward you and from the look in he eyes it was obvious how deeply it cut when he pushed you away. You just couldn’t understand why he would behave like this. The love between the two of you wasn’t something you felt to be fleeting. You felt a pull toward him, and it was obvious the way he felt was the same. He just didn’t want to let anyone in. He couldn’t let you get hurt by him. By what he was.

“He is just so frustrating!” You screech at Lily.

“They do tend to be.” She says in a soothing tone while handing you a cup of tea.

“I didn’t even ask him to say it back to me. All I went there to do was tell him how I felt Lils there was no need for him to act like such an ass.”

At this moment James enters the house planting a kiss on Lily’s head and patting yours. You signal to Lily that you didn’t want to discuss this with James in the house. He was a friend of yours but a better friend of Remus. Remus deserved to have this conversation with his friends, and you wanted to do the same.

“What’s all the shouting about then ladies?” He says dropping himself next to Lily. Lily looks between the two of you with her piercing green eyes. With a huff you fold and let her explain what had transpired between you and Remus the evening before.

“Honestly, men don’t make any sense.” James says snatching a biscuit from the plate on the coffee table letting it crumble down his shirt. Lily tuts at him brushing him down. “I’ll be frank with you he did already tell me and the boys, believe me we are on your side. He does care about you, so I don’t get why he doesn’t just let you in.”

“Thanks James, who knew that you would actually say the right thing.” You say sipping your tea. Lily bursts out into laughter at the pout that comes over James face.

“She’s got a point remember how you were in Hogwarts; this conversation would go very differently.” She adds.

“Well, you ladies are cruel but I’m glad I was some help.” He pulls Lily’s legs into his lap and looks at her with adoration, “I just want Remus to have someone to look after him. Like Lily and I look after each other.” He declares.

“Boo! That was too sweet get a room.”

“We do have a room! You are in our house you idiot.” Lily retorts. “Look maybe you should try and talk to him about it today, if he’s been talking to the guys about it, he’s obviously not sure if he made the right decision. If he still doesn’t want anything to happen that’s fine but you have to talk to him about it.” She looks at you with that look that says do the right thing for you a look she tended to break out regularly with you these days.

“Okay fine, where do you think he’ll be?” You ask James.

“Probably still in his flat, when we left him, he was breaking out a bottle of fire whiskey so he might not be in the best state when you find him.” James adds with a hint of worry.

“Alright I’ll bring him a coffee.” You say pushing yourself off the sofa mentally preparing yourself for the interaction you are about to have.

The walk to Remus’ is long, you take your time letting the summer sun warm you skin. You make it longer doing some shopping in the bookstore and the second-hand shops. Finally making your way into the local coffee shop and order Remus’ usual a toasted cheese sandwich and a large white americano with a brown sugar.

You stand in his doorway inspecting the wooden front door. Maybe if you stood here long enough the past would change. Perhaps if you studied the cracks in the paint work something would be altered, a detail you never noticed before. All you hoped for was a shift in the universe. Was that too much to ask? Just a small adjustment to the way things were going. For a single moment to go the way they were intended. For the two of you to be together without any of the background noise. But standing at a closed door examining the woodwork would never have the power to change things, neither would wishing them that way. The only thing capable of changing the path you and Remus seemed to be on was knocking on this door. So that is what you did. You knocked a short rhythm and waited for him to answer. In the frosted window you saw Remus approach the closed door at a slow pace. You saw him stand there watching you from the other side. Probably wishing you away.

A deep breath in and you close your eyes attempting to banish the feeling of dread that built a house around your chest. Remus rests his forehead against the window, something inside you urges you to do the same. You resist instead you ring the doorbell. Lifting his head off the glass he finally unlocks the door. He still avoids saying your name.

“I brought you some lunch.” You say holding out the takeaway cup and bag filled with food.

“Thank you. Did you want something?” He replies taking your offering but still blocking the entryway.

“Yes, actually I did, can I come in Remus?” You ask crossing your arms.

A weak look in his eyes battle with his intentions of keeping you away. Taking a sip of his coffee he opens the door wide enough and signals you into his flat. Its stuffy inside and you didn’t require James’ warning you about Remus’ current state his living room was proof enough. An empty bottle of fire whiskey left scattered on the side table and a blanket tossed from the sofa. The reek of alcohol clinging to the furniture and a record stuck in a loop. When you look back to Remus, he’s taking a bite out of the sandwich attempting to look away without addressing the state of the room.

“Can I get you some water or something?” he asks.

“No but would you mind if I opened a window?” he nods in response with an air of awkwardness. You offer him a tight smile and walk to the window breathing deeply when it’s finally opened. You feel his eyes follow you and you allow them to stay there for a moment.

“So, what did you want?” Remus asks sighing with pain. You turn to him and his eyes flit away to floor as you do. “I don’t mean to sound harsh but there isn’t anything I have to say to you.”

“Good because I don’t want to listen to you right now Remus I really don’t. All I’m asking is that you listen to me. Don’t even try to tell me last night you were listening to me because you weren’t. You had no intention of ever listening to what I had to say on the topic.” Your heat beat quickens as you speak.

“Please that’s not fair.” He interjects with a strained voice.

“It is more than fair, and you know it. The way you spoke to me last night that was unfair. I just want to say my peace on the topic Rem because you stopped me before I even had the chance. I care for you so deeply Rem I would never do anything with the intention to hurt you. All I have ever wanted was to be there for you. I think it’s fair to say I have been there for you whenever I could, and you have done the same for me. We have grown into each other and honestly the idea of you avoiding me because of last night hurts me because I don’t need you to feel the same way for me. I wasn’t looking for you to declare your love for me Rem. All I wanted was to declare mine to you. That is all, because it has been suffocating me. Watching you doubt yourself at every step. I love you Remus. I love all of you.” You declare you voice shaky from the tears now rolling down your cheeks.

“Do better. Aim higher than loving someone like me.” Remus exclaims with anger lacing his words.

This leaves you speechless. Mouth open and eyes blinking quickly. Remus looks you in the eyes finally, all that’s left in them is anguish. He cries silent tears which he wipes away with the back of his hand.

“Did you hear anything I just said.” You cry.

“Yes, but you’ve got the wrong man.” Only then does he say your name in a whisper. “Believe me I don’t deserve to be loved by you.”

You walk towards him taking his hand as he tries to turn away from you. He squeezes his eyes shut letting out a sob. You touch his face gently and he cannot stop himself from bending into it. He leans his head down so when he opens his eyes, he is looking at you with warmth. You rub your thumb along the ghost of a scar that runs along his cheek bone.

“Not thinking you’re good for me is a terrible excuse.” You state. Remus takes your hand away from his face placing a kiss to your knuckles as he did. He brought your hand down between you before letting it go.

“You deserve-

“- You don’t get to tell me what I deserve. I’m telling you what I want Remus and I want you.”

“It’s not as simple as that?”

“Why not?” You edge closer to him, so your noses are touching, “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll go. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I won’t ever bring it up again.” You dare him. Your eyes scanning his face. His grow hungry having you this close to him and he cannot stop himself kissing you. Strong and passionate. Clinging to your body his hands gripping you and yours making your way to the nape of his neck and tugging at his hair. You pull away from each other panting and just barely louder than a whisper he says.

“I do want you. But.” He starts but he doesn’t finish.

“Why wouldn’t you be enough for me?”

“Because I am a monster.”

“You may be frustrating Remus, but you are no monster. Let me show you that.” You kiss a fresh scar next to his lip. Pulling away only slightly you add, “Let me show you all the ways in which you are wrong.” You kiss him again with a desperation that he too feels.

The two of you don’t break apart sharing the same air and revelling in the small shock waves each other’s touch set off igniting a much deeper fire within one another. You stay together this way and in other ways until the sun sets once again. In a tangle of limbs and swollen lips you hold each other through the night. Running each other’s hands along the bare skin. Remus dances a finger along you collar bone and kisses your neck. You trace the lines of his scars, of every scar. Leaving each one with a kiss and a quote you remember him sharing with you.

I’ll take care of you

It’s rotten work

Not to me not if it’s you

In the early hours of the morning the sun finds it way to your entangled bodies illuminating his hair in an angelic way. Golden the two of you together naked with no intention of leaving the room. He gently brushes a hair away from your face with the back of his hand that he trails along your cheek and following its way down your neck to you hand. Intertwined once more he hums with happiness. Bringing it to his lips once more.

“I’m sorry.” He says planting a kiss on your cheek, “I love you.” he says between another closer to your lips this time, “I was wrong.” Finally kissing your lips.

This time you whisper promises to him, “I will spend every moment showing you all the ways I will only ever want you.” and “I love you too.” And finally, “let’s look after each other my love.”

Remus then utters you name in such a way that spreads warmth through your bare skin, “I want nothing more than that.” Once again allowing himself to say your name foreheads resting together.