#except it’s not really a theory and more of a obvious observation

[hanajay769]

Adrien as a sentimonster evidenced in Season 5 episode 19 “pretention”

Spoiler warning for those who haven’t seen it yet!

So everyone is already in agreement that the sentimonsters (Adrien and Félix) are controlled by the Graham de Vanily twin rings right? Which is why Félix wanted the ring so bad in the first place. Oh you’re caught up already? Then good let’s continue!

Ok so basically this episode or this specific part that I want to focus on is about Marionette going to talk to Gabriel about her relationship with Adrien. So they walk into the kitchen and Gabriel starts doing his manipulation tactic, using pancakes as a representation of Marionettes future. But before that he asks Adrien to leave the room. When Adrien rejects this Gabriel doubles down and says this⬇️.

The scene focuses on Gabriels hand tightening in the spatula. Which shouldn’t really mean anything other than “oh I’m getting angry but my voice won’t reveal anything to the viewers but my actions will”. Except for the fact that the hand that’s focused in the middle of it all is his left hand that holds his wedding ring or the Graham de Vanily ring. Which we’ve already established that may or may not be controlling Adrien since he’s a sentimonster.

Then it moves to Adrien reaction to the order and his and Marionettes face. The girl is shocked beyond belief rn, and Adrien just looks angry or concentrated(?)

And then to focus on his hand leaving hers like this was such a dramatic moment. Like I know absolutely nothing about film and movies but little actions showing things like these have to be the creators telling us to “pay attention” or to purposely draw our attention. But moving past the little things and into the biggest point I wanted to make here.

Adrien goes to his room and just.. stands by the door for a good while. And only when Plagg notices do we see Adrian’s face. Completely different than the angry/concentrated expression he had earlier.

The man looks to be distraught and his words make him out to be conflicted. Plagg literally asks “what’s stopping you?” When Adrien says what he wants to be downstairs. And his answer is “I can’t disobey my father”?? Like that’s a plausible argument for the fact that you’re literally stuck in place between your wants and an order.

Then when Marionette ends the conversation between her and Gabriel and as a last resort decides to run up to Adrien and tell him how she feels. Adrien is seen still standing in front of the door when she opens it.

Like he was still torn between his decision.

So anyway. Adrien is a sentimonster and was given a direct order to go to his room. Which that order left him to be extremely conflicted and left him literally stuck in place as he mentally decided what to do.

Yup and that’s All I wanted to bring to attention. It’s 3am and despite this probably being the worst analysis/theory post you’ve ever seen. Please leave your opinions and or thoughts as a comment, I definitely want to dive more into this theory. As I also have more obvious evidence as to why Félix is a sentimonster as well.

[theemporium]

[5k] luke hughes swore he would never tell another soul and take his confession to the grave. that ends as an epic fail as he tells a really pretty girl his most embarrassing secret. luckily for him, she seems pretty eager to help him out.

series masterlist

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It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it was. It really fucking was.

It wasn’t always a big deal. When he was in high school, everybody was just like him. Or at least, most people were. HIs friend group were. And they would always talk about how fun college would be, how everything would change, how everyone grew up and just did it. 

And then he went to college and nothing really changed. It was a bit embarrassing, it made his cheeks burn bright red whenever he spoke about it. But it also wasn’t the most unbelievable thing. Between keeping his GPA up, his training regime and the countless games during the season, it wasn’t shocking to anyone that he didn’t have as much free time as movies liked to make it seem like. 

But then he moved up. He went from being a kid with a dream to actually living that dream and beyond. A joke from his childhood became a reality when he found himself on the ice with his older brother, wearing the same jersey as his older brother. Suddenly, it was all real and intense and he was in it properly. 

But, fuck, it was embarrassing that he was in the National Hockey League and he was a fucking virgin.

In theory, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t change the way he played or his performance on the ice. It didn’t affect his professional life in any way, shape or form. But it still made him want to curl up in a corner and shrivel his existence away whenever he thought about it too long.

And it wasn’t like it was obvious. He wasn’t announcing it to the world and rambling on about it in interviews. But the amount of jokes people made about women throwing themselves at his feet or having a turnstile of people in his bed felt like he might as well be. 

The awkward laughs and strained smiles would only take him so far before someone caught on. 

And that might have been the worst part—the fact that nobody knew. Not his friends in high school nor the ones he made in college. None of his teammates. Not even his brothers (though, the idea of him even telling them whether or not he was a virgin was an experience he would like to avoid all together). 

Nobody in the fucking world knew Luke Hughes was a virgin except him and, in a weird way, it was kind of fucking lonely.

Or at least, nobody else knew until he met you.

…

The night he met you had been a few days after the Devils had been kicked out of the playoffs. 

Despite the loss, Nico wanted one last team celebration to sign off a good season. Because yes, it fucking sucked that they were knocked out and it sucked they wouldn’t be the ones to lift the Stanley Cup this year. But they still played well, they deserved to appreciate that, to appreciate each other. 

And, on a more personal level, it was a chance to celebrate with the NHL team he could now call his home.

He was in the big leagues now. He was in the NHL and he was a professional hockey player and, by the power of some fucking superior being he did not know, he was lucky enough to share a team with at least one of his brothers. 

It still felt like a dream.

And with that dream came the joys and perks of being a New Jersey Devil—like not being ID’d in the bar the team commonly visited. 

“Takin’ it all in?” 

He tore his eyes away from the surrounding bar to look at his brother, perched on the edge of the pool table Nathan and Kevin were currently competing on. He had been happy to just watch, observe—for lack of better terms—take it all in, like Jack assumed. 

Instead, he just retorted with, “it’s a bar. Not much to take in that I haven’t seen before.”

“Okay, college boy,” Jack snorted, his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as the vodka cranberries he had been drinking all night. “I meant the big leagues.”

Luke resisted the urge to snort. “Ask me again in a year when it’s actually sunk in.”

Something in Jack’s face softened. “I’m glad you’re here, Moose.”

His throat felt a little tight but he still smiled. “Me too.”

He had assumed that was the end of the conversation, but that was Luke’s first mistake. He hadn’t paid much attention to the way Jack’s eyes roamed around the bar, narrowed like he was looking for something or, in this case, someone.

“What do ya think about her?”

Luke blinked, looking at his brother with a confused glance before he followed his line of vision to some blonde settled against the wall on the other side of the bar. 

“What about her?”

Jack shot him a look. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Luke hesitated, almost as though it was a trick question. “Yes?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced,” he commented. “So, blonde isn’t your type. What is then? Brunettes? Redheads? Miscellaneous?”

“No, I—” Luke frowned. “I’m surprised you even know what miscellaneous means.”

Jack punched his arm in response. 

“Why are you asking about my type?” Luke questioned, something that felt a lot like uncertainty bubbling in his stomach.

Jack let out a deep sigh, prolonging it to properly encapture his annoyance. “I’m trying to help you get laid, bud.”

Luke froze. 

There was no way Jack could know. He knew that. He did. Logically, it was impossible for his brother to know he was a virgin when Luke had genuinely never admitted as much beyond the age of seventeen. But here he is, seemingly trying to find him someone to sleep with. There was no way he could know, there was no way Jack knew—

“I mean, you’re in the fucking league now, bud. Milk it a little, have some fun!” Jack continued, lost in his own rambles to even notice the way Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sure college was fun and all, but this is better!” 

Luke tried to let out a laugh. “I think I’m alright for tonight.” 

Jack huffed out in annoyance. “Don’t be a bore! Luke, you’re in the NHL. You just fucking played in the playoffs! Enjoy yourself, man.” 

“I am enjoying myself,” Luke countered. 

“You’ve been drinking the same beer since we got here,” Jack snapped back with a knowing look. “And I know it tastes like shit because I did the exact same thing when I first ordered a drink here. I’m trying to be your guru, help you avoid the mistakes I made.”

“My guru,” Luke repeated with a snort. “More like an unwanted Cupid.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “C’mon—”

“Focus on yourself.”

“It’s my duty as a brother—”

“I am not staying to listen to this,” Luke grumbled, batting away his brother’s hands as he began to make his way to the bar. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack was right—this beer tasted horrible and not even the tiny sips he had been taking were going to save it. 

He settled himself on a free spot at the bar, his elbows placed on the slightly sticky countertop as he peered over to try find a bartender. He saw a few on the other side of the bar finishing off a few drinks and accepted the small wait, a little lost in his own thoughts and whether he wanted to try another drink instead of just settling for something non-alcoholic when a hand settled on his back. 

“There you are, babe!”

Luke frowned, turning around to find you staring right back at him with a grin on your face. Honestly, he was expecting to turn around and let the person realise they had made a mistake. But your smile remained on your face, though the wide eyes staring back at him were a little distressing. 

“Uh, I think you—” But he was cut off by another voice, a much deeper one this time.

“This is your boyfriend?” 

The man was average height and fairly built, but that was all he had going for him. His shirt was definitely a size too small to make him look bigger and the chunky chain looked nothing short of tacky. And Luke may have been in his presence for less than thirty seconds, but the body spray was overwhelming and pungent and made him want to plug his nose. 

Now, Luke may be a little slow but he isn’t dumb.

He may be deeply confused by the sudden promotion to boyfriend from a stranger but it didn’t take long for Luke to realise the wide, distressing eyes were a cry for help and the walking embodiment of Axe body spray in a tight shirt was the reason. 

“Uh, yeah!” Luke cleared his throat a little, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders in the least awkward way he could possibly achieve. “She’s my girl! Uh, girlfriend! She’s my—” His cheeks burned but he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. “She’s my babe!” 

The man glanced between you and Luke for a few moments before rolling his eyes, muttering something under his breath about wasting his time before he disappeared into the throng of people crowded by the bar. 

“What a dick,” you murmured and it almost made Luke jump when he remembered you were still beside him, that his arm was still around your shoulders. You turned around to look at him once you knew the other guy was gone, and your smile seemed softer now. “Thank you for that, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no biggie,” Luke replied, cringing a little before he quickly continued. “Thanks for giving me the honour of being your fake boyfriend.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, you have a friendly face. You looked like you would go along with it.”

His cheeks burned warmer. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” you grinned before turning to settle in the spot next to him, fingers tapping on the bar counter. “Let me buy you a drink to thank you for your services?” 

Luke began shaking his head. “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Please,” you insisted, a softer expression on your face. “It would make me feel better for dragging you into my scheme.”

“I—” He cleared his throat, hoping to some superior being that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “O-Okay.”

Your grin widened. “Brilliant. What do you want?” 

“A Coke.”

“Really?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, no judgement, just surprised,” you said, leaning over the bar to place your drink order along with his before you turned back to the boy. “So, do I at least get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

HIs lips twitched upwards. “Luke.”

“Luke,” you repeated before telling him your name, something gleaming in your eyes when you did. “So, Luke, what brings you to a bar on a Monday night to drink Coke?” 

“I’m here with some work friends,” he lied easily, not really one to play the professional hockey player card (despite Trevor’s insistence that it was expected to be used for this reason exactly). “Just enjoying the night before we all head off for the summer.”

“Hm, here with your work buddies but staying sober and standing alone at a bar,” you mused. “You’re quite intriguing, Luke.”

“I think that’s a compliment,” he murmured with a frown. 

“It is,” you assured him with a smile.

Luke opened his mouth to say something before the familiar voice of his brother reached him. 

“LUKEY BOY IS GETTING SOME!”

He shut his eyes, muttering a list of curses under his breath before he finally looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry about him. Just ignore him, he’s a little drunk and—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him with a laugh. “Work buddy?”

“Mhm,” Luke confirmed with a nod. “And my older brother.”

“That sounds like an intense work environment,” you commented.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was still a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t blame you for making a run for it now while you have the chance. Jack will only get worse.”

You waved him off, smiling. “Your brother isn’t scaring me off,” you assured him. “Plus, I said I was intrigued and I’m enjoying talking to you. Makes it seem a lot more believable that you’re my boyfriend if that other dude is lingering around.” 

“Yeah, totally,” Luke agreed, something warm bursting in his stomach at the fact you wanted to keep talking to him. 

And despite what Jack and the others assume, nothing more happened between the two of you than just talking. It was bittersweet, in a way. Because Luke really enjoyed talking to you that night, even if he knew he would probably never see you again. 

But it was nice and it replayed in his head a lot more than he cared to admit that summer.

…

He assumed it was guaranteed that he would never see you again. 

So, it was pretty shocking when he did, in fact, see you again at a house party held by one of the boys of all fucking places in the pre-season.

As the new season approached and the overwhelming realisation that he was about to enter his rookie season of the NHL hit him, Luke didn’t even hesitate to accept the invitation for the ‘small get together’ with the boys. These were his teammates, these were the people he was going to have to trust and navigate on the ice with. It seemed like a nice idea to have a few chilled hangouts whilst training dragged everyone back to New Jersey.

What Jack and everyone else had failed to mention was the fact a ‘small get together’ did not just mean the team like he assumed. It meant a house full of people that Luke certainly didn’t know or recognise, but seemed to know exactly who he was. 

He was only slightly ashamed to admit that he clung onto Jack’s side as long as he could. But his brother was a social butterfly who liked to jump between different crowds and it was too much for Luke. Instead, he had settled near a couch where John and Kevin had been rambling away to each other when Jack suddenly appeared—out of thin air—with a huge grin on his face. 

“Hey, Rusty, is that not your girl from the bar?”

Luke’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Huh?”

But Jack didn’t say much, just nudging his little brother to look over his shoulder. His lips parted again, prepared to tell Jack that he was drunker than he expected him to be after a few beers, only to find the words stuck in the back of his throat when he turned around and saw you.

He had thought about you more than he cared to admit over the summer. Just random little flashes of the conversations you shared. It was stupid, and a little pathetic, but you just felt…different—in the least cliche way possible.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly his cheeks just heated at the sight of you. 

No, correction: it was really fucking embarrassing. 

“Aw, did Lukey invite his lil’ crush?” Jack teased, reaching out to mockingly pinch his cheeks but Luke batted his hand away just in time.

“Shut up,” he grumbled before clearing his throat, turning to faze his brother again. “I didn’t. I–I don’t even know why she is here.”

Jack shot him a look. “Go on, then.”

Luke frowned. “What?”

“You are actually clueless,” Jack grumbled under his breath before giving him a hearty shove. “Go talk to her!”

His eyes widened. “What?!”

“Go talk to her,” Jack repeated, not understanding the panic in his younger brother. “You guys were hitting it off at the bar, what’s the big deal? Maybe you can hook up with her again.”

“I—” He started before realising this was not the time to delve into the same argument they had had since the night at the bar. “It’s fine, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

His brother scoffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Luke blinked. “No?” 

“Dude, she was all over you!” Jack insisted, giving him another shove that had him stumbling slightly. “Go!”

Luke could feel his cheeks heating up. “Jack—”

“It’s my big brother duty to help you!”

Shove.

“Jack, fuck off. It’s not gonna happen.”

Shove.

“Yes, it will. Stop being a coward.”

Shove.

“Can you stop? I am not—”

Shove.

“Go talk to her!”

Shove.

“No—”

Except, the little shoves and lack of balance with the drinks he had been nursing through the night seemed to catch up on Luke. He stumbled back, his footing gone and his free hand reaching out to grasp Jack or something to stop him from falling. But it was too late. He was stumbling and his drink was sloshing and it went all over—

You. 

It went all over you because now you were right there, right in front of him, having just walked across the room to come and see him.

“Oh shit,” Jack muttered from behind him.

You looked down at your shirt—your very white shirt that now had some atrocious red stain splattered across the front from the cocktail John had made him—and stared in shock. 

Luke felt his whole body curl in on itself, his face burning and his chest feeling oddly tight. “I am so sorry—”

But, to his fucking shock (because you seemed to shock him a lot, if he was honest), you looked up at him and laughed. 

“Unlucky timing, huh?” You joked but Luke didn’t feel like laughing. 

“I can—” But he paused, not even sure what he was going to say. 

“Liking the colour red a little too much there, Cherry!” A voice from somewhere in the crowd—Luke genuinely wasn’t sure where—called out and your face brightened. 

“It’s a good thing I can pull it off!” You retorted, unfazed by the name. 

Cherry. 

Usually, Luke would chalk it up to his memory being fairly shit and the months that had passed since that night in the bar making him confuse your name for something else. Except, the boy had practically relived that night in his head on a constant loop. Every word. Every sentence. Every second of it. 

Pathetic? Yes.

Helpful? Probably not in any way, shape or fucking form except for the fact he was certain your name was not Cherry. He was more than certain. At least, he was certain that wasn’t the name you had told him. 

There were so many logical and simple reasons, he knew that deep down. But right now, Luke was embarrassed and flustered and he had this horrible inkling that you told him a fake name in case you thought he was a creep at the bar like the guy he saved you from and—

Yeah, Luke really didn’t like the idea of that. He didn’t like the idea of being paired in a category with that man. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that he made you uncomfortable enough to give him a fake name, even if he had given you no real reason to do otherwise. 

Someone pushed through the crowd as Luke continued to spiral in his own thoughts, unable to even get a coherent sentence out when Nico glanced between you and him. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he offered you an apology before he turned to Luke.

“You can show her where the bathroom is, right?” 

And, fuck, he really thought this was the closest he could reach to ever feeling something close to hatred towards his captain.

Luke nodded his head, unable to get a word out and nodded towards the stairs. 

You seemed to catch his hint well enough as you turned to head towards the stairs. Until your hand was reaching back, taking his in your grasp and intertwining your fingers together and Luke’s brain short circuited all over again.

“Get it, Moose!”

Jack was pretty high on that almost-hate list too.

Luke felt like his body was on autopilot as he moved towards the stairs, letting you lead him up with your hands still connected until you reached the top. You looked at him expectantly and he led you towards the bathroom—one of the larger ones because he thought he would die if he was trapped in a small, enclosed space with you after he just spilled his drink all over you.

He opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping aside and letting you head inside. Except, the world seemed to have something against him, you dragged him into the bathroom behind you, your hands still connected, and grinned at him.

“Help a girl out?” 

Luke cleared his throat but nodded. 

He tried not to think too hard when you eventually dropped his hand. He tried not to think too hard when you locked the bathroom door. He tried not to think too hard as you glanced at him through the mirror. 

And he was doing well until you went and pulled your shirt over your head. 

His eyes widened, a spluttered noise of surprise leaving his lips as his eyes instantly snapped to the ceiling. But it was useless, he could already feel his blush crawling down his neck and burning hot.

“Relax,” you laughed. “I’m not giving you the full show. Just need to get this stain out.” 

“Mhm,” he hummed but his eyes remained on the ceiling. 

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

You let out a hum, like you didn’t quite believe him but you didn’t seem to push further. Instead, he heard the tap turn on and the water started running and suddenly, the bigger bathroom didn’t feel big enough.

“I’m not a creep!” He blurted out.

You paused. “Is that why you are staring at the ceiling? To prove you aren’t a creep?”

“No, well—” He cut himself off and let out a deep breath. “No, I just…your friend called you Cherry down there. You gave me a different name. I just…didn’t want you to think you had to give me a fake name because I was a creep. Granted, you don’t owe me anything but I just wanted to assure you—”

“Luke?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?” 

“I don’t think you’re a creep. And I didn’t lie about my name either,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “People just call me Cherry.” 

And for a boy who ate, lived and breathed a sport that classically gave stupid nicknames to everyone and everything, he had never felt quite this dumb.

“Oh.” 

“Are you going to look at me now?” 

He waited for a moment. And then another. And then, before he chickened out of it, he lowered his gaze until he met yours—and didn’t let his eyes wander any further. 

“You’re an interesting boy,” you mused, tilting your head to the side.

His brows furrowed together. “Thank you?”

You grinned at his response before you turned back to the sink, seamlessly continuing to scrub your shirt under the running tap. 

Luke watched you for a few moments, trying to just stew in the silence and let you do your work. But the seconds kept ticking by and the silence was becoming more stifling and there was only so much he could handle before he wanted to rip his eyes out. 

“I’m sorry about my brother, by the way,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s a lil’ enthusiastic but he means no harm.” 

“He seems quite desperate to get you laid,” you noted, your eyes briefly finding him in the mirror again. “A lot of your friends do.”

His cheeks burned again. “They do that with everyone. They just like to be wingmen, you know?” 

Your eyes narrowed slightly on him. “But it makes you uncomfortable.” 

You say it like a fact, not a question. 

Luke choked a little. “Well—”

“Why not just tell them to back off?” You questioned and Luke welcomed the fresh, bitter twinge of embarrassment that washed over him.

“Because they would ask questions,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just easier to let them mess about.” 

You looked intrigued now. “Why?”

Luke shifted under the intensity of your gaze. “Because then they would ask why I didn’t want to hook up with anyone.” 

You raised your brows. “Not a one-night stand kind of man?”

And honestly, he should have just cut the conversation there. He should have deflected the topic onto something else or gave some vague answer. Hell, even telling you to mind your own business was a better answer. But the alcohol made him feel buzzed, your presence was overwhelming and—for the first time in his life—Luke found himself blurting out the words he swore he would take to the grave.

“Because I’m a virgin.” 

You blinked. And he fucking waited for it. 

He waited for you to laugh. He waited for you to laugh and howl and cackle at his pathetic admission. To mock him, to tease him, to make him feel worse than he already felt. He waited and waited and waited. 

And it never came.

“And you can’t tell them that?” You questioned.

“I, uh,” Luke shook his head, his stomach somersaulting inside him in the worst ways possible. “No, it’s a little…taboo in my line of work.” 

You turned to actually look at him instead of gazing at him in the mirror. “Are you a sex worker?”

Luke spluttered, shaking his head. “What? No! No, I…I’m a hockey player.” 

You frowned a little. “Hockey players can’t be virgins?” 

“Well, it’s not like a set rule but like,” he paused, waving his hands around like that explained everything. But you still looked confused and Luke knew he had to keep talking. “Everyone just kinda expects hockey players to be some kind of…sex god. Or something. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s not really common to be a virgin in the league.” 

“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest—where you still stood in only a bra covering yourself. “So, like, are you a virgin…by choice?”

“Oh my god,” Luke groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face before it got even more red.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” You assured him. “I was just curious.”

“Nobody was supposed to know,” Luke grumbled into his hands, but you seemed to understand him well enough.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

But the damage was done and Luke wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and drag him into the depths of the Earth.

He needed to get out of this bathroom. He needed to get out and go downstairs, rush through a flurry of goodbyes to the team before he quickly escaped and headed home where he could hide his embarrassment in a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream that certainly wasn’t in his meal plan. 

He just needed to turn around, unlock the door and slip out before you had the chance to—

“What if I helped you?”

Yeah, that was not what he expected.

His hands dropped from his face as he stared at you, his expression almost blank except for the confusion shining in his eyes. “Huh?”

“What if I helped you?” You repeated.

“Helped me with what?” 

“Being a virgin,” you said with a shrug. “It seems like it’s really important to you, or something. And I think you are bigging it up in your head a little more than necessary. Maybe you just need someone to give you a helping hand, you know? Guide you through it, help you learn. No pressure, yeah?”

He blinked. “And…you would do that?”

“Yeah, why not,” you answered honestly with a shrug of your shoulders. “You intrigue me, Luke.”

“I intrigue you,” he repeated slowly, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not a bad thing to be intriguing.”

“It is when you make it sound like I’m some kind of experiment.”

You flashed him a softer smile and something in his chest eased a little. “You don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion. Just…a new friend helping her new friend out.”

New friend. 

Luke swallowed. “And…what would you gain from this?”

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders again. “Honestly? I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences in bed by guys who think they are sex gods. Call it a gift to womankind if I help at least one guy be competent and capable in bed.” 

He blinked. “Right. Gift to womankind. That’s me.’

You snorted. “Just think about it, yeah? Obviously, you can go about with whatever you are doing. Just a suggestion to make a casual thing out of it, to help take the stress away. It’s your choice, Luke.” 

It was his choice. 

He knew it was his choice and, despite knowing little about you, some stupid part of him trusted that you were being genuine. You were odd but you were sincere, and he knew your offer was sincere too. If he took you up on it, you would help him out. If he declined, you wouldn’t push the matter any further and just move on in your life. 

No more words were exchanged after that, the offer lingering and the tap still running as the red stain showed no signs of budging under the soap and cold water. He knew he didn’t have to give you an answer there and then. 

But the worst part was that Luke was pretty fucking sure he knew what his answer was the first time the offer left your lips.

And he pretty sure the remaining stain on your shirt was some sort of bad omen from the universe that already liked to tease him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was fucking done being a twenty year old virgin and you were his solution to the problem.

.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Magic and Genetics

So, this is not like 100% finished and will be more musings than a full theory. The main reason is that we, as humanity, just don't really know that much about genetics. Like, we get the gist of it, but we can mostly only say: "it's complicated" about it.

Which is true. Like, the idea of dominant and recessive traits the way most people are familiar with (like the eye color chart for blue eyes and brown eyes) is super oversimplified and inaccurate. Like, there are 2 major genes that affect eye color and then there are 8 more genes that affect eye color, hair color, and skin color, but we aren't really sure in what way. We just think they do from observation. Usually, genes behave in a way that is in line with the dominant and recessive traits charts, but there are exceptions to it. Again, we just don't know much about this field.

Because of this, I can't really come to conclusive conclusions regarding exactly how many and which genes affect a person's magic in the world of Harry Potter. What I can do is use the book evidence to try and create a pattern of how magic behaves genetically.

Disclaimer: I'm not a doctor, nor did I study genetics in any professional capacity, this is from online reading and self-study. And most importantly for fun 😊

Why do I think magic is influenced by multiple genes?

So, JKR stated in an interview she thinks of magic as a single dominant gene. This is impossible, since if that were true squibs and muggleborns wouldn't exist and the chart for the likelihood of a child being born with magic would look like this:

And that's just not what we see in the books...

This is all without mentioning how squibs like Arabella Figg can see dementors while muggles can't:

“A Squib, eh?” said Fudge, eyeing her suspiciously. “We’ll be checking that. You’ll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors?” he added, looking left and right along the bench where he sat. “Yes, we can!” said Mrs. Figg indignantly.

(OotP, page 143)

This means that squids do have some magical genes that muggles don't.

Additionally, from what we know about wizards as a species they have other differences from muggles that would effect their genetics in less obvious ways, for example:

Wizards heal faster, so cell regeneration is different than muggles.

Wizards have a completely different set of illnesses than muggles, so their white blood cells are also different.

Their brain cells likely live longer since they have an overall longer life expectancy.

Since they can see magic, like dementors and the Leakey Cauldron, we know the sight receptors are different.

Their nerves likely also function differently since they can sense magic in a way muggles can't.

To name a few.

And this is all without going into the fact wizards can reproduce with other species (goblins, veela, and giants to name a few) which actually implies a common ancestor to all of these races, but I'm not going into that can of worms.

What I am going into is how magic works genetically and how predictable it is. As in, if I know the magical status (pure-blood wizard, half-blood wizard, muggleborn wizard, squib, or muggle) of two human parents, can I tell how likely their child is to be a wizard, a squib, or a muggle?

What are squibs?

We don't know of many squibs in the books, these are the list of the known squibs:

Argus Filch

Arabella Figg

Marius Black

Dolores Umbridge's brother

Molly Weasley's second cousin

Squibs aren't a subject wizards like talking about, even not wizards who don't mind muggles like the Weasleys:

"Er — yes, I think so. I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

(PS, page 73)

The definition of a squib is a child without magic born of a magical parent. If we look at the list of squibs above, all of them except Umbridge's brother are pure-bloods. This is kind of important because of the limited genetic pool of pure-bloods.

I tried calculating the inbreeding coefficient (basically how likely it is that a specific genetic trait is identical in both parents. The number ranges between 0 and 1) of the pure-bloods in the Wizarding World. We don't have much information on most families, but even looking at the Black family tree, they aren't really inbred (except the Gaunts). The closest relation there is the marriage between second cousins Walburga and Orion. So the inbreeding coefficient of pure-bloods would be above zero, but not high enough to cause serious health detriments for the most part. But, this doesn't mean wizards don't have a problem with a limited genetic pool even without close inbreeding.

Looking at that same Black family tree, we see a lot of familiar names: Flint, Crabbe, Burke, Potter, Crouch, Longbottom, Weasley, Prewett, Malfoy, McMillian... Basically, all pure-blood wizards are related. Some more closely than others, but they are all related. It means that among pure-bloods there is less genetic diversity which tends to cause illnesses and weakness in children over the course of multiple generations.

Such illness can, for example, come in the form of a squib. If the child just isn't capable of having full access to magic, due to their limited genetic pool, they will be born a squib.

But what about Umbridge's brother?

Well, here's the interesting thing. When looking at accounts of children of a pure-blood and a muggleborn, they are all always magical (and usually quite powerful, but more on that later). Umbridge's mother though is muggle. I believe a muggle parent would also have a higher chance of a squib offspring since they don't have magic. Essentially, Umbride's brother received some of the magical genes from their father, and some muggle genes from their mother, leaving him somewhat capable of interacting with magic, but not casting it — a squib.

Essentially squibs have a higher chance to be born from two pure-bloods (due to lack of genetic diversity) or from a wizard and a muggle. If we look at the books, we actually never see a squib being born from a pair of two wizards where one of the parents is half-blood or muggleborn (since they bring new genetic diversity and make the offsprings much likelier to be magical).

What are muggleborns?

So, we covered that squibs are rare and are caused by the lack of genetic diversity in the pure-blood families or by receiving non-magical genes from a muggle parent. But what about muggleborns? How could they genetically exist?

Well, I discussed here the actual percentages of different blood statuses across the Wizarding World. And the percentages looked like this:

57.5% Pure-Blood and Most Likely Pure Blood

22.5% Half-Blood

15% At Least One Magical Parent

5% Muggleborn

And as I covered here and here, I believe magical Britain is approximately 0.01% of the muggle population. This means that muggleborns are incredibly rare in the muggle population and have an overall very low chance of being born. But under what circumstances would muggleborns be more likely?

We know, for example, that the brothers Colin and Dennis Creevey were both born magical. It means, that their parents had genes that make them more likely to have magical children. This means Petunia had a higher chance of being born magical than, say, Vernon, it was still a low chance, but it was more likely.

Now, I'm not the first to raise this theory, but I believe these muggles that have a slightly higher chance for magical children like Mr. and Mrs. Creevey are descendants of squibs. We know that:

"Squibs were usually shipped off to Muggle schools and encouraged to integrate into the Muggle community. . . much kinder than trying to find them a place in the Wizarding world, where they must always be second class..."

(DH, page 136)

So, squibs have been sent for generations to live among muggles. It means that there are multiple "muggles" running around that are actually squibs. They might be able to see dementors or notice something odd around the Leakey Cauldron, but not enough to produce magic. But they still have magic in their genes. And when they have kids, sometimes, through a fluke of luck and genetics a muggleborn can be born.

This means all muggleborns are distantly related to wizards in some way, but still the muggle blood adds some much-needed genetic diversity that makes them less likely to have squib children.

What would magical genes look like?

So, we talked so far about how to predict the likelihood of a child having magic or not. But we also know not all wizards and witches are magically equal. You have crazy powerful individuals like Voldemort, Harry, and Dumbledore. Hermione is an incredibly skilled and talented witch, often the first in class to get spells right. And then you have wizards like Crabbe, Goyle, or Merope who are barely more magical than squibs. Then you have unique magical gifts like being a parselmouth, metamorphmagus, or seer are all inherited, and therefore genetic.

So, let's start with the power/talent difference between wizards that we see. I think this, like squibs, is correlating to the lack of genetic diversity. Sure, you have pure-bloods that are magically powerful or average, but if we look at the most magically powerful wizards in the books — Harry, Voldemort, and Dumbledore — they are all half-bloods. They all have a higher genetic diversity.

Hermione and Lily, are also examples of this added genetic diversity raising the likelihood of magical talent. Both muggleborns, both referenced as talented and bright multiple times. Snape, another half-blood is also referenced often as an incredibly talented wizard.

Actually, Nymphadora Tonks is one of the best pieces of evidence for magic weakening over pure-blood generations and becoming stronger with the new blood from muggles or muggleborns.

The Black family had the hereditary magical gift of being metamorphmagi. This gift has been lost for multiple generations, the first Black to be born with this gift in recent history is Tonks. And it makes perfect sense, Andromeda, a pure-blood with the genes for being a metamorphmagus, marries a muggleborn, Ted, who has the much-needed genetic diversity, so their daughter is finally durable enough for the metamorphmagi magic to kick in.

The Gaunts are another example of just how much the lack of genetic diversity affects a wizard's magic. All three, but especially Mereope, are portrayed as barely skilled with magic, almost squibs. But then we have Tom Marvolo Riddle, magically gifted so much beyond most wizards because he had the added genetic diversity from his muggle father.

Parseltongue seems to be a more dominant trait than the metamorphmagus ability. As even an almost squib in the Gaunt family can speak it. That being said, the Gaunts are implied to be incredibly incestuous, so perhaps it's just a matter of both parents speaking Parseltongue that causes this gene's apparent dominance.

We also know these genetic traits are only passed to wizards. So a squib from the Gaunt family, would not be able to speak Parseltongue. So, while it is a separate gene, it is connected to the other genes that affect magic. That's why a muggleborn born from a Gaunt family squib line, could potentially be a Parselmouth. They won't necessarily be a Parselmouth, but they have a chance to get the gene.

Conclusions

So, let's put all of it together into a series of rules* to how magic seems to work genetically.

*Rules is not exactly the correct word. It's more like, how it would usually behave, but there are flukes to genetics and everything is possible.

Two magical parents would almost always have a magical child. Pure-bloods are more likely to have squib children than half-bloods or muggleborns due to lack of genetic diversity.

A child of a muggle and a wizard has a higher chance of being born a squib than two magical parents. (The chance is still pretty low though and the child is more likely to be magical)

Muggleborns are the result of at least one parent who is a muggle that descended from squibs and has magical genes.

If both parents are squib-descendant muggles, all their kids might even end up magical. (Like the Creevey brothers)

Being a parselmouth, metamorphmagus, or seer are all unique genetic traits that are passed in a separate gene but dependent on other magical genes. Each one of them behaves differently as a gene.

Genetic diversity promises a higher chance of naturally magically gifted children. (It doesn't promise they will be more gifted, just makes their chances better)

Blood purity and a limited genetic pool cause magical children born to these lines to be overall weaker. (Again, there are exceptions, this is just about chances)

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

EVERYONE I just saw the new DRDT twitter post, and I have some things to SAY /pos (if you don't know what I'm talking about, you should probably view this post https://twitter.com/DespairTime/status/1703105596134654210 before continuing on reading this one) ... ... ...You back? Awesome !! First and foremost, gonna take a look at the synopsis

This concept is giving major 999 vibes, I love this already I also really like the shorter number in cast, I don't actually see a lot of fangans with shorter cast and I think that's a shame because I think there is a lot you can do with a shorter cast of 10-12 participants (see Danganronpa Lapse). > eleven students are forced to continue a killing game that they’ve supposedly already started. However, no one can remember the past trials, nor the deaths of their missing classmates. This is the main thing that caught my eye, and it definitely explains the shorter number in cast. And with their memory erased and the way this is worded, it feels almost like this death game that these characters are in has restarted. Like, something went wrong with it, and that resulted in the death game restarted using the eleven students still left. And if that is the case, that makes me wonder about the possible connection this death game could have with DRDT. But I will get to that later. > Between the killing game, their lost memories, and the “NG codes” that restrict their actions, how could anyone escape unscathed? So this is also using the NG Codes from Danganronpa 3? Yet another thing I find very interesting. I so badly want to know more about this cast. Which is why they are the next topic of my insane ramblings !!

Okay before I even get into anything, I just want to say mad fucking props to DRDT Dev for these designs and for their art in general. They have genuinely improved so much since the start of DRDT, and it's so cool to see Second of all

> That is to say, this is a story about a person who wants to become the perfect teacher. So hi, I love you very much first of all Go to a damn barber second of all I am very worried for you third of all /lh (Also my first thought when I saw him was that he reminded me of Enju from Ayakashi Akashi, and I think that's funny)

DRDT-Dev has confirmed that this is the protagonist, so I am already very intrigued with him and what his deal is even though we won't find out for a long time Another fun little thing I noticed was that in all of the art so far out with him has him with his eyes closed. I wonder if that means anything Anyway, I love him, and I am also concerned for his safety for something I will talk about later

As for some smaller observations, given how closely these two are depicted, their fire and ice motifs, and their general simialr appearences. I don't think it's a stretch to say that these two could be sibling, or related in some way. I think that's cool

I've seen a few people say that this person could be Elliot Cuevas, Charles' older brother, and I definitely think that's a fair theory to have. Not just because of the purple hair, but also because of the collar around his neck. What is one of the only details we know about Elliot?

His favorite animal is dogs. And that collar (to me at least, looks very similar to a dog collar. Just something to think about

I have nothing insightful to say, this person is precious and I want to give them ice cream If people start theorizing them to be "secretly evil" istg... /lh /hj The rest of the cast (except one) I have nothing to comment on, so let's get to the main question I am thinking about at this moment Does this project have any connection to the lore of Despair Time?

This wasn't something that was confirmed, nor denied by DRDT Dev, so everything I'm about to say could age awfully. But I think there are a few pieces of evidence that could hint to this project having more relevence to DRDT than it comes across at first glance. Three to be exact. Let's start with the first and most obvious one

This man who is looking very smug at me is wearing a jacket with an XF-Ture Tech logo on it, or at least something that looks the part.

We do not have much information on what XF-Ture Tech as it stands right now. All we know at the moment is that it is a profit tech company that sponsored Min's family when she was younger at the promise that she would become the Ultimate Student in 12 years time, and that they also do "a lot of other things"....whatever the hell that shady sentence means. Due to the lack of information about XF-Ture Tech, there is not much else I can analyse at this moment. But this fact alone does seem to connect this project and DRDT in some way. But obviously that's not all For my second piece of evidence, we go back to that teacher character. Because I swear...there was another, albeit hidden, place where a teacher character was mentioned... Oh yeah !

.....Ohhhhhhh righttt... Teacher man, you're in big trouble. In all seriousness, considering how intricate DRDT-Dev's writing is, I just don't think this could be a coincidence at all and if it is I'll be genuinely surprised. I think this teacher character and the teacher mentioned in the about page's hidden text are the same person. Now that does not exactly answer the big question of who is saying this text. It could be the mastermind of this project's death game, could be another participant in this project's death game, hell the possibility that this is the mastermind of the DRDT cast's death game still isn't really ruled out. But the main point is that I think it's a very big possibility that this teacher and the teacher in the about page's hidden text are the same person. And lastly, I would like to go back to what I said in the beginning: > it feels almost like this death game that these characters are in has restarted. Like, something went wrong with it, and that resulted in the death game restarted using the eleven students still left. If we're following the idea that this is a restarted death game, that honestly gives me the same vibes as a reboot of a television show. Which brings me to my point: What if this death game is also being broadcasted? I feel as though it is definitely a possibility given the summary, but for right now there doesn't seem to be much proof of this idea. _ That's basically all of my current thoughts on this project that DRDT-Dev has shown us. If this does end up becoming the next fangan DRDT Dev releases after the completion ot Despair TIme, I am very excited to see in the future what has been cooking

[mrs-monaghan]

Hey, since you often catch details and seem like an open-minded person, I want to share what I observed in the last few days. So, I definitely believe in Jikook but that was not always the case. My bias is Jimin and I always mostly focused on him, but once I observed Jungkook more carefully, the truth revealed itself step by step. Now something similar happened since I focused on Taehyung. And it seems crazy, to me as well, but please give it a chance! Watch "Nippon TV BUZZ RHYTHM 02 - BTS Cut" timestamp: 13:55, and watch (and listen to) all of their expressions closely, especially Jikook and Taehyung. Keep an eye on Namjoon, too. Then please look at the lyrics of Sweet Night and really reflect on them. Just as a reminder, there is Taehyung calling Jimin his "one and only best friend" in "Let's BTS" and similarly in Festa 2019, for example. I also am stuck on Jin calling Taehyung very generous and big-hearted in "Special Movie BTS MUSIC JOURNEY" (after the release of Sweet Night) and the others agreeing, their expressions speaking once again. Then finally those compilations where Taekook is apparently jealous of each other. Or Vmin. And now you just have to connect the dots but I did not see any other person who has done so. All those moments, all those compilations make so much more sense to me. All in all, it seems that Taehyung has or had feelings for Jimin. Sounds crazy! Of course we should not assume too much but the connections are there and in hindsight, they seem obvious. You just have to put the puzzle pieces together. I really hope that Taehyung is over it, because unrequited love hurts badly. Taehyung as a person makes so much more sense to me. His actions, his depression, his pain... Well, I guess Jimin did not call himself "Tailor of Chaos" without reason. That situation must have been difficult for him, too. Maybe (just maybe) that is an indicator regarding his state in 2020... And of course on Jungkook. But maybe that is the actual reason why Jungkook and Taehyung seem to be closer now, maybe mending their friendship! Especially, since Taehyung found a partner. And maybe Jikook feel some kind of guilt for causing Taehyung pain... who knows. There is much to think about and honestly, it sounds like pure fanfiction but if I learned something in life, it is that nothing is impossible. Hope you give it a chance, I really would like your opinion on all that. I certainly am feeling very surprised. Have a nice day :)

Yes anon, it takes very little for me to judge people seeing as I'm a lunatic myself 🤭🤭 if I had a shilling for everytime someone called me crazy I would have attended all of Suga's concerts and then some 😂 so u get no judgement from me my lovely 🙌🏽

Except insecure Jikookers, of course. Fuck you! I judge you everyday! 🤨🤨🤨

So! Umm yes. I've seen this theory being thrown around. I have friends who think this might be the case. And one of them is actually really good at analysing and picking up cues and she believes V may have had feelings for Jimin at some point and her arguments make sense.

But for me... idk. Idk anon. 🤔 I have a hard time picturing this. I will share a clip that will be hard for some of you to watch. So brace yourselves

Oh boy. Glad I have my anons off because u guys are already kinda mad at V atm 😂😂

Things to note about the first clip: (I know... I know. It's bad. I recently just discovered it and it doesn't look good, I agree)

a) Point to note number one is that, that is how most people in SK feel about homosexuality. As u can hear V is basically telling Jimin something is wrong with him mentally for liking men. And when u grow up with everyone around u telling u this, of course u will believe it. It also explains why he would keep the company he keeps. (Go Google Bogum and his cult scandal) People in SK don't believe men can be with other men. And those who have seen it happen, think its a mental illness. This was obviously embedded in V for him to have done this not once, but twice. And this is only what we saw on camera.

b) 2nd point to note; Taekook just cannot be real. It's just, impossible. Yes, V has changed, obviously. Hanging out with Jimin will do that to you. He obviously doesn't feel as strongly about homosexuality like he used to. And he loves Jimin and JK which means he has adjusted his mentality. But, this is a guy who used to say basically homophobic stuff to his friend. And as u can see, that clip is from around May 2015 So at what point would V have started dating JK as early as 2013 when this is how he felt about his friend a boy, liking boys?

c) 3rd point to note; Jimin doesn't deny it. I hate how he's just defending himself there repeating over and over; I don't like you that way, so what's your issue? I dont behave that way towards you, why you mad? Anyway, Jimin doesn't once say "no i don't like men." Or "stop lying" he just says "I don't feel that way about you."

d) Last point to note, Jikook is real. Why? Because what triggered V, was Jimin telling JK to sit next to him. And immediately V goes off about how something is wrong with Jimin in the head because these days he likes men. Likes JK.

Now anon, let's go back to point number 2. I know internalised homophobia is a thing. (Thank you Shameless! You taught me sm!) But it stems from someone hating that they like someone of the same sex and they don't want to be that way, but they are. So saying V used to have a crush on Jimin insinuates he would have had to get over his homophobia and start seeing Jimin in a new light. I mean, it's Jimin and the Jimin effect is a thing that exists. But, still. Idk. I just don't know. Watching that clip tells me that his parents are like this. Him being so close with the WS, tells me he wouldn't have kept them as friends if at any one point he started liking someone of the same sex. Knowing how they feel about it.

V is more accepting now, of course. But Jikook are in the closet and only close knit people know about it. And V definitely isn't divulging that to the WS. Again, knowing how they feel about this topic.

What am I saying anon? I think those V jealous Vmin moments that exist are because he "lost" his bestfiend when Jikook became a thing. He had to share Jimin with JK. And I imagine Jimin tried to be there for both of them but sometimes JK took priority and maybe V didn't like that. They used to be bestfriends. Super close. V even looked after Jimin in school. Asked some people he knew to look after the new kid because that was his friend. They were close. Really close. Then satellite Jeon comes and changes everything.

Now to the assignment you gave me. The question was who's the most romantic

Suga (what?) And RM say JK. Guess they've seen it first hand. 🤭 Also Jikook both point at Jin

V on the other hand says Jikook but then changes it to just Jimin

I also looked at the lyrics of sweet night (he sounds so good) and I'm guessing you're talking about this part;

Anon, if you ship Vmin, or are suspicious of Vmin, it would be easy to conclude this song is about Jimin. Easy. But if you're like me who believes V is as straight as a ruler, then the first thing I think of when I hear that, is some girl he liked at the time that he was really close to. Someone he dated in the past, maybe. To me V is as straight as they come and I could try, but I cannot see where you're coming from.

But if you listen to sweet night and then watch V jealous compilations, you're gonna be influenced. Because you're going in already thinking the best friend he's talking about is Jimin! But, remember, you don't have to have romantic feelings for someone to be jealous. You can be jealous that your sister is spending too much time with someone else. You can be jealous your bestfriend doesn't make time for you anymore ever since they started dating. You know what I mean?

That's what I think you saw. In my opinion, of course. I could be wrong and way off base but...yeah.

In Conclusion: Vmin isn't real and there was never potential for it to be so.

I appreciate u trusting me with this ask, anon 😘

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

Here we go again. Another institution, brimming with self-righteous faux outrage, is trying to airbrush JK Rowling’s name out of history. This time it’s the turn of the Museum of Pop Culture (MoPOP) in Seattle, Washington, which has removed the world-famous author’s name from its Harry Potter exhibition. Last week, the museum announced that while it will continue to display memorabilia from the Harry Potter books and films, it wants no association with their supposedly problematic creator.

Explaining the decision in a 1,400-word blog, the museum’s exhibitions project manager, Chris Moore, brands Rowling a ‘cold, heartless, joy-sucking entity’. Moore, who identifies as trans and uses ‘he / them’ pronouns, takes exception to Rowling’s ongoing interest in preserving women’s hard-won rights over the ‘right of anyone who insists they are who they say they are’. Once again, Rowling’s reasonable and rational defence of women’s sex-based rights is being presented disingenuously as ‘hateful’ or ‘harmful’ towards transgender people, and therefore deserving of cancellation.

Moore even seems to think it would be better if Rowling had never existed. ‘We would love to go with the internet’s theory that these books were actually written without an author’, he writes, ‘but this certain person is a bit too vocal with her super hateful and divisive views to be ignored’.

Strikingly, Moore goes a few steps further than most of Rowling’s critics. He doesn’t just accuse her of transphobia. He also accuses the Harry Potter books of peddling ‘racial stereotypes’, promoting ‘fat shaming’ and, perhaps most heinous of all, lacking ‘LGBTQIA+ representation’. Surely to goodness there must have been a few pansexual / nonbinary students in the imaginary, magical school of Hogwarts? Shame on JKR for not giving them a voice, eh? The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, might have been gay, but apparently that’s not enough in our world of 764 genders.

I find myself torn about this particular non-event, to be perfectly honest. On the one hand, I realise this is simply the latest in a long line of attempts to shut Rowling up. ‘I saw Goody Rowling, in the barn, consorting with the devil!’ is the tone of every such outburst. By now, these tricks have become cheap and obvious to anyone observing closely. The smears are always baseless.

On the other hand, the attempts to erase Rowling are deadly serious. Each attempted takedown inevitably leads to her receiving the vilest, cruellest abuse. Abuse which, if you’ve ever taken the time to read it, contains some of the most horrific things one human could say to or about another. Rowling is no doubt a tower of strength and resilience, having been on the receiving end of this bile for years. But it’s probably still having an effect on her, deep down.

Perhaps there is an upside to this stunt by Moore and the MoPOP, however. Removing Rowling’s name from the museum, and condemning her as ‘super hateful’, is so infantile that most right-thinking people will likely see it for the foolishness it really is. Sunlight, on occasions such as these, has a remarkable effect of highlighting the absurd and often cruel behaviour of the gender ideologues. People are getting wise to these smear tactics now that they are so regularly churned out. The problem is it is difficult to get people to speak out against them.

Sadly, most people are still too scared to speak up. This shouldn’t surprise us when the extremist factions of the trans movement use threats of rape, violence and torture to bring people into line. They doxx people’s addresses and workplaces, so the heretics can be hunted down and vilified, resulting in the loss of earnings, jobs, reputations and more. There are countless examples of this. And no doubt there will be many more to come.

Faced with this, we cannot simply stand by and shrug. We have to stand up to the smears. The truth is that Rowling has never said anything untoward about trans people. She has been critical of the behaviour of some trans fanatics. She has been vocal in her support for single-sex spaces for women and girls. And yes, she has vociferously defended herself against hourly abuse. As she damn well has a right to do. But she is not the bigot she has been made out to be.

It’s time we all speak up for what is right. It’s time to break the cycle of fear. It’s time we called out this public assault on JK Rowling – and on all the other gender-critical feminists who’ve been similarly maligned. We need to put a stop to this authoritarian movement.

----------------------------

James Dreyfus is an actor who has starred in Gimme, Gimme, Gimme, Absolutely Fabulous and The Thin Blue Line.

[chaifootsteps]

I remember back when loo loo land came out, people theorized that the lullaby Stolas sings to Octavia was foreshadowing his future death. It was a plausible theory at the time since the song contains lines such as "when I'm gone you'll be ok". But now it has become increasingly obvious that Viv would never DARE kill her precious boy off.

That song is very weird in retrospect tho. Especially the second verse seem to be hinting at things about Stolas that simply aren't true:

"I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun. Now all the stories have been told.. Except for one"

Like what does any of this mean in the context of Stolas's character? He's no adventurer past his prime, and even in his youth he was never the bold type, so what stories is he referring to? The love line only vaguely makes sense when you remember his childhood crush on Blitz but even that feels like a stretch especially with how much of a mess that plot point is. It feels like it'd make the most sense if him and Stella actually did love each other at some point but things went bad over time.

Frankly, the allusions to death would only make sense if Stolas was a human first introducing the concept of death to his kid. Stolas is practically immortal. The concept of death should be very far removed from him. Another thing to add to the "why isn't this show just about humans" pile

These are all excellent observations. I will say that to me, "You Will Be Okay" was at its most poignant when we were all under the assumption that Stolas was an ageless fallen angel.

Throughout the song, he doesn't just allude to his own mortality, but the apocalypse, the end of time. The references to the Last Day and in the extended version, the trumpet sounding, are all Biblical allusions to the end times when God will attack Hell and smite all the demons.

That was always excruciatingly beautiful to me, this visual of Stolas taking his tiny daughter up to watch a planet die while singing about this event that even he can't escape, but for some mysterious reason is going to spare her. Stolas, with the end of his eternal existence in sight and more regrets than not weighing on his heart, reassuring his baby that everything ends, including himself, but that he'll always be with her. It's heartbreaking. It's magical.

(Side note, of all the Stolas scenes I've ever edited to sound like the pilot, it's the only one to ever make me weep. It was the first one I did and I wasn't prepared for that drop on "Now all my stories have been told except for one," the way it made him sound as old as the stars.)

It's just...gah. We really could have had everything.

[skylarmoon71]

Patrick Jane (Mentalist) - Chapter 7

It’s a bit easier to breathe. While you’re still a bit skeptical of Jane’s explanation, there really isn’t any other.

His theory has given you a change of perspective. If it is true, then there might be other people out there just like you. The idea brings a strange sense of comfort. It’s similar to how you feel around Jane. You can’t help but wonder if you’re both connected in some weird way. He did repel your abilities, so it isn’t that far fetched. You try to push it to the back of your mind as you meet with Lisbon. 

It’s your monthly evaluation. 

“Good morning Boss.” 

“Good morning, take a seat.” 

You do as instructed, waiting patiently for any corrections or improvements that she’s about to inform you of. 

“You’re a great addition to our team. I have to say I’m impressed. Not just for your insight, but you do a good job of keeping an eye on Jane. At this point I really just need good babysitters.” 

You laugh at that. 

“I appreciate the compliment. These past three months have been very helpful. I’ve been learning a lot from everyone, especially Jane.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. I hope we continue to work well together.” 

You expect her to say something else, but she doesn’t. You raise a brow. 

“Is that all?” 

“Were you expecting something else?” 

“A lecture at least. My old captain had one for every meeting I had with him.” 

Lisbon smiles. 

“It’s obvious that your old captain was fond of you, otherwise he wouldn’t have spent the time giving you pointers.” 

“He’s a bit of a control freak.” You inform. 

“Well it’s clear that his method worked. You’re an exceptional agent.” 

That comment actually makes you blush. You nod as she dismisses you. It’s no surprise that Jane meets you the second you close the door. You jump at the sudden appearance. 

“Shit! Don’t do that!” 

He’s just wearing that grin. 

“She complimented you, didn't she? I can tell because you're blushing.” 

“Please don’t make me disappoint her by shooting you Jane.” 

“You wouldn’t do that, you like me too much. “ 

“Try me.” 

He narrows his eyes playfully and you can only smile. 

“Nah, that would be too much work.” 

“Really, that’s what would bother you. I’m appalled. Appalled I say.” 

He continues to complain dramatically straight to the point that you make it back to the bullpen. You’re so distracted by Jane that you don’t make out the man before you until you stumble into him. He steadies you and your instinct is to apologize. However, the first thing you notice is that he’s holding your arms and you aren’t bombarded by thoughts. 

“Jack’s play is tomorrow. I need to take time off.” 

You hear just one conscious thought. He’s looking right at you, but it takes a minute for you to process that his mouth is moving. 

“Are you alright?” 

You nod frantically and he releases you. 

Not that you’re looking at him you finally take in how attractive this man is. Tall, dark hair, stoic face. He’s a replica of Cho in a sense. 

It’s kind of hot to be honest. 

Not that you would ever tell this man, or Cho for that matter.

“Sorry, I’m usually more coordinated. Is there something I can help you with?” 

Jane is at your side just observing. 

“My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner, I’m here to see Agent Lisbon.” 

As if on cue she walks in. 

“Aaron, thanks for stopping by.” 

He nods at her as they shake hands. 

“I was in the area after a case. I was advised to pass on any information on Red John. I wanted to deliver it personally. It seemed important. I hope this helps.” 

Jane is fully invested now and Lisbon takes the file.

“Thank you, this means a lot.” 

“No problem.” 

He turns. 

“It was nice meeting you.” 

“Y-Yes, you too. Thank you.” He nods, heading out. 

“We’ll be doing a briefing tomorrow on the new information.” 

“Yes Boss.” 

They all agree, but your eyes are still fixed in the direction of Hotchner. 

“Why are you still staring at that guy?” Jane asks.

When you look over, all eyes are trained on you. 

“I-I wasn’t staring.”

“Yes and now you’re stuttering. You think he’s hot.” 

“Shut up Jane!” 

“Hah, that’s a yes. You secretly like the brooding types don’t you?” 

“I’m not playing this game!” You huff storming off and the rest of them share smiles. 

You make it all the way to the elevator before you realize that you actually have to get back to your desk to finish your paperwork. Going back now however would no doubt end in massive teasings from Jane. Maybe you should wait it out a little. 

“Everything okay?” 

You jump at the voice.

“Oh, Agent Hotchner.” You run your hand over your pants a bit nervously. 

“Yes everything is fine. Just needed some fresh air.” 

And time away from Jane.

“I could walk you out.” 

He nods at the offer.

You gesture to the elevator and he waits for it to come up. 

“So profiling must be a taxing ability. I can’t imagine what your case loads are like. Not a lot of time for other people.” 

He nods. 

“It’s hard. I have a son and it becomes a bit difficult to work around the schedule.”

The elevator dings and you step in the moment the doors open. He follows behind. 

“I can’t imagine what that’s like. How old is your son?” 

“Jack just turned ten.” 

He reaches into his pocket and when he flips open his wallet you smile when he shows you the picture. He’s wearing such a bright expression. There’s another image on the side just barely peeking out. 

“He’s growing up faster than expected.” 

There’s a somber tone to it. You’d like to offer comfort. It’s obvious he loves his son. You’re a bit hesitant at first, but then you reach over, placing it on his arm. 

“Hailey was always better with him. Better with us.” 

You’re saddened, because you realize now that his wife is no longer with them. 

“You’re a good father, Agent Hotchner.” 

He turns, and you hope that your words give him a sense of ease.

“Thank you.” 

Removing your hand, you nod proudly. Not just for your ability to talk to this attractive man without stuttering, but it seems that you’ve begun to get a better handle on your abilities.

The double doors open and you step out with him. The walk to the front of the building is nice. You stop right at the entrance. 

“Have a safe trip back Agent Hotchner.”

“Thank you, I will. “

You fully expect him to turn and leave, but he lingers for a moment. He reaches for your hand, a friendly gesture you assume. He gives your palm a soft squeeze.

“I appreciate the encouragement, it’s good to know I’m not the only one out there.” 

The thought he conveys startles you. Your mouth falls open. 

“No way..you can hear me..?” 

He wears a knowing smirk as he nods.

“The compliment is appreciated as well.” 

With a light shake, he releases and you stare down at the business card in your hand. 

“Enjoy the rest of your day Agent.” 

No other words are exchanged. 

You can’t form any, not one. 

Suddenly you believe Jane, because you’re beginning to notice a pattern. 

~Extra~

“I bet you right about now she’s fumbling around him.” Jane says. Vanpelt smiles.

“Come on, I think it’s cute.” 

The hurried steps catch their attention. Jane turns at the sound, ready to see your possibly flushed cheeks but instead you’re beaming. Before he can say anything you basically crash into him. Hugging him happily. He stumbles, almost toppling over. His arms hold on to ground the both of you. The contact is definitely a surprise. When he regains his footing he’s a bit confused. 

Everyone is just as surprised as he is.

“You were right, we’re not the only ones.” 

The thought that invades his mind makes him pull back slowly. You’re looking at him with so much excitement. He doesn’t miss the subtle increase of his heart. 

“You were right.” You say aloud. 

He seems to understand because it can only really mean one thing. 

Hotchner is just like the both of you. 

Now that you aren’t holding onto him you show him the card. Vanpelt is smiling. 

“You got his number.” 

You nod with a laugh. 

“I did.”

Jane knows he should just say more teasing words, or encourage you to pursue a friendship with Hotchner since it’s clear you’re the same. But the sight of that smile when you came in, it’s engraved in his mind. For once he doesn’t have any snarky responses.

[gatogore]

anyway. random Bloodborne observation number 72726: in the Forbidden Woods you can find like... 5 or so Celestial dudes just walking around. The only other times you really see these things are in the Upper Cathedral Ward with the Celestial Emissary fight or in Iosefkas Clinic after the impostor replaces her.

The interesting thing about that is that there is a second entrance to Iosefkas Clinic: a secret ladder that leads from the woods into a small cemetery by the clinic. Just looking at it we can presume it's supposed to be concealed under a fake headstone, clearly meant to be kept hidden.

The presence of the Celestial mobs indicates that the Choir has been doing some Choir-y shit in the Forest, and it's theorized that Fauxsefka is a choir member based on her weapons. All that considered it seems plausible that the Celestial mobs in the forest are her doing, before she eventually took over the clinic by breaking in through the secret entrance.

But another interesting thing I thought about is... well. Regular Iosefka is also presumably a member of the Church. Not only does it make sense that the Church would have control over almost ever Clinic in the city, she explicitly wears the white church garb. Let's look at the garbs description:

Coincidentally, you find this set on top of a house in the Forbidden Woods village. Weird. Other items you find in the village are blue elixirs and beast blood pellets. Like... a *lot* of beast blood pellets. Blue elixirs are obviously linked to the Church in particular (and Fauxsefka gives you them), but beast blood pellets are described as medicinal pellets and explicitly banned by the Church for their 'unclear origin.' Weird again.

Anyway, back to that secret entrance again: why exactly does Iosefka even have this in her backyard? And why is she keeping in hidden and locked up?

My working theory is this: Iosefkas clinic is using this secret passage into the otherwise forbidden forest to smuggle and test experimental medicines, such as volatile beast blood pellets and blue elixir on the downtrodden villagers of woods. Theres ample evidence of the Church's presence here, theres the location of the church set, the presence of the Celestial mobs, and also the several Church giants that guard the area around the secret passageway. The main entrance to the forest is also blocked off by a password that seems to only be known to members of the church, and the whole reason the woods are 'Forbidden' is because the Church declared it so. Hmmm.

We know that the Church performed experiments on the children of the Orphanage, so they certainly like preying on people who won't be missed. The impoverished townsfolk left stranded in this off limits part of the city would be great potential test subjects, don't you think?

Another weird detail is that regular Iosefka originally denies you reentry into the clinic, citing the health of her patients. This is odd because she doesn't seem to *have* any patients. Once you return, the clinic to totally desolate. No corpses to be found except for a single, failed Celestial experiment (if you do the wolf skip early on, you'll see this corpse is here even before Fauxsefka takes over, maybe just because you're not supposed to see it at this point gameplay wise but still.) So did she lie to us?

All that also has me wondering... why exactly did Fauxsefka even replace Iosefka? The obvious answer is so she can lure new test subjects to the clinic under false pretenses, but maybe it's more than that. If Fauxsefka really is a choir member, why would she need to forcibly replace Iosefka, another Church member and presumably her underling as far as Church hierarchy goes?

Right now I'm thinking that Iosefka was potential superceded for 'failing' in her mission. If we assume that aforementioned Celestial experiment was actually her doing, it was done pretty poorly. The corpse still has human hands and skin patches and is also dead as fuck, so... F- for her. Not to mention this seems to be her only patient as stated, except for you. However your character is almost immediately enlisted as a Hunter and is given functional immortality as part of their contract, so maybe she simply decided it wasn't worth trying to experiment on you since if you accidentally die you might just. Come back and kill her. Ever wonder why you wake up in a separate room, locked off from the rest of the clinic? Maybe she was effectively kicking you out.

But anyway, Fauxsefka comes. Sees the shit state of the clinic, with it's 0 patients and 0 successful experiments and decides 'fine, I'll do it myself.' Turns Iosefka into an alien and then asks you, a previous and unviable patient, to help her lure more people to be turned. And awards you with drugs so you don't think too hard about how suspicious that is.

so yeah. that's basically my cringe ramble. If you see any glaring logical issues here or have your own ideas please tell me I could talk about Bloodborne lore for hours.

[mentalisttraceur]

question: how is birth possible in a topological world, as in a world where everything can be stretched or contracted but not broken or cut apart?

hypothesis one: inside every person, exist infinite other 'people' (they might not be people yet, but they can be. no amount of energy can leave and no amount of energy can enter, but it can be recycled and its form might change) who are separate from the initial person and may be born under the right circumstances. everyone can give birth theoretically, whether they have the organs required or not, because there are infinite outcomes for each universe in the this world and thus there is a 100% probability that someone will give birth in one of those.

hypothesis two: everyone is the same person. when someone new is born, theyre also the person who gave birth to them, however now an invisible ''string'' ties the two of them together. they might not be consciously aware of it, but everything surrounding them (the trees, the humans, the animals, the stars, the atoms, their parents etc) is also a part of them and theyre also a part of it.

question: is our universe topological and if yes, which one of these hypotheses is true (one, both or neither)?

the questions may or may not be rhetorical.

TL;DR: Unknowable, and probably not worth getting super invested in until you can pin it down to a predictive difference or efficiency-of-prediction difference.

Sorry for the delay anon (I think this was asked sometime in May, maybe earlier).

1. Is our universe topological?

So, for nature-of-the-world questions I don't really consider "is [...]" to be particularly answerable. I prefer "is so far empirically indistinguishable from [...]" and "is most elegantly explained/modeled as [...]".

As far as I can tell, we live in a world whose observable physics, at least at the macroscopic level, are more elegantly/efficiently/straightforwardly explained by having separate and separable objects.

While that doesn't prove anything, I'd say explanatory/logical elegance is correlated-with/predictive-of making correct predictions, and as you might remember I consider that to be the basis of logic, and thus part of the basis for any belief beyond raw current experience, so you can probably see why my interest diminishes at that point.

I don't see any obvious sound way to totally preclude a "topological" (everything is one/fused/connected) world. If I was seriously investigating that model, I'd want to check if you can make it work without any super-luminal deformations. If it does require super-luminal deformations, I'd be super hesitant to take it any further. I'd also want to know what else it promises/gains over the current widely accepted models.

The other thing I'd want to make sure is addressed in a topological world model: you ever see someone trying to walk dogs? One dog would do, but two or more makes my point faster. See, dogs don't really understand leashes. They just do their thing, not compensating for the leashes at all. They will very quickly create tangles. I'd want to know what your solution for tangling without super-luminal deformations or information propagation is (or a good argument for why the only super-luminal effects are not actually a problem/contradition for everything else).

I do find it fun to idly try to reintepret what we know of subatomic particle interactions as between one topology-preserving Thing. Like, when you understand a proton as a rapidly changing arrangement which at any given moment is probably best modeled as three quarks (two "up", one "down", except which is which is constantly changing aiui) with strong nuclear force (I think they call it "color force" now?) interactions between each other... well, can we instead imagine those fundamental force propagations and state changes as topology-preserving changes between one thing? Sure, and we could probably re-use string theory for this - instead of vibrating n-dimensional branes you get vibrating n-dimensional protrusions of some larger thing. Okay. Sure. We can probably make it work, my intuition is that you might even be able to achieve feature-parity with the standard model. But then what? What does the extra complexity of all the topology manipulations gain you?

2. How is birth possible?

The same ways as in a non-topological universe remain available. Maybe you can think of others, but again, what does it add? Both of the hypotheses you state strike me as being in the same knowability class as a soul or a god. In principle unknowable, and all existing evidence is more simply explained without those things being real.

Long before you get to questions of topological vs not, you're implemented on neurons which are built out of molecules made up of atoms which themselves are made up of subatomic particles (some of which are made up of yet smaller particles - for example electrons seem to be best understood as not being made up of anything smaller, but protons seem to be best understood as made of quarks).

These things are so far removed from how human minds seem to be implemented in the brain wetware that I don't think it actually makes much of a difference if there's little strings connecting the building blocks which are orders of magnitude smaller.

In any model consistent with what we know of physics, you probably aren't that underlying topology-preserving substance. You'd be a cascade of information processing being done by pieces which are orders of magnitude larger.

(But if the topology-preserving substance is experiencing/cognition/mind-stuff, then to me of the two possibilities you suggested, the second one seems more likely, that we're all one extension of some greater whole, because of all explanatory models that have been empirically or logically testable, ones that add convenient infinities to the mix to make things work seem to always turn out mistaken or equivalent in predictive/modeling power to ones without such infinities. But that doesn't really rule it out. And again there's a functional equivalence there so can you ever really know which of the two it is? If there's enough telepathy-like information sharing between infinite distinct souls which are always topologically connected, even if it's only at specific moments, it kind of becomes equivalent for practical purposes to just being one huge soul with good ability to think/imagine many parallel isolated experience streams.)

---

I once found comfort in the permanency, connection, and potential to affect the world offered by views like this. Believing that you are part of some larger eternal connected whole. That when this flesh puppet stops being able to pump electricity over neurons and chemicals between them, you won't really cease. That we can really touch other minds and stay in touch. That when the next powerless situation is upon you, you might have found a way to affect things. I've grown comfortable with being in a world that doesn't offer that. In most possibilities where it's true and matters, worst case I'll find out and adapt after I die. What else does it offer while I'm still alive?

[mihidecet]

I am experiencing many thoughts head full. I will try to put them in words - consider them observations, theories and like ... plot points? All of this is based on what I have understood and interpreted, so if anything I say is wrong or sounds wrong, please do feel free to correct me.

So, Purgatory day one.

An important prelude is that I was watching Philza, so my POV was of Red team.

I did not get to see it till the end, but I did catch some clips - including the one where he gets killed by Fit while surrounded by others and not even fighting back.

And the cognitive dissonance of seeing Charlie screaming while everyone else was silent was so strong?? I had almost forgotten they all went into separate discord channels.

And like - they never do, at least not that I remember? Even when they were split in teams in past events, they used proximity chat still, right? So they could still hear others.

And the whole thing about collaboration and communication being thrown out the window?

I assume that this is part of the Federation's plan and it is working TOO WELL. Telling them their kids lives are on the line was perfect.

[Potential spoiler if you haven't seen Quackity's stream]

Q was even told he'd be sowing discord between them and such, but like ???? he doesn't even have to do anything.

HOWEVER as I mentioned yesterday (in tags, I was in a hurry) I feel like there is a pretty clear way to approach this situation - and that is collaboration.

Why would they go through all the effort of killing each other and compete when they could simply help eachother? it's not like they're strangers to each other. it's not like they can't communicate.

I'd wager it would potentially be much more easy to complete the tasks if they helped eachother. And from what I remember, the recording did not say anything about not helping eachother.

Furthermore, it would be extremely useful to not have a losing team. And that, to me, is quite obvious since the losing team risks losing their eggs.

And except for BBH and Fit, every parenting group is split between the teams, right?

So why wouldn't, say, all the brazilians want to make sure none of them lost? if any of them did, they'd be risking Richa's life!

With all of this (kinda little and silly) reasoning, what I'm thinking of right now is: if this were to happen (aka if somebody were to try and spark collaboration between teams), who would it be?

The first trio that I thought would do this were Jaiden, Bad and Foolish, since they used to be pretty close in canon - but Jaiden and Foolish are on the same team, and BBH killed Charlie which was in my opinion one of the first pushes to the downfall of team red into chaos and despair (I wish I was exaggerating).

Tina and Foolish, or Phil and Etoiles, are also some people that come to mind as people that bonded really strongly and are not currently on the same team.

Then there's the canon/fanon ships.

I have to admit that I don't know if Cellbit and Roier fought yesterday - and if they did, I don't know how it went.

But after Pac put up posters to keep away Cell and Fit promised to keep him safe ... I cannot imagine Pac would be too thrilled to see Fit looming over him ready to kill.

And like so many others but my brain is not collaborating atm.

The only thing that I think won't happen is any attempt at collaboration coming from red team - they're the underdogs and they got burnt real bad yesterday, so I feel like they'd be extra suspicious of anyone not part of their team. Which is a shame, since they're also some of the most rp heavy players.

Don't really know where I was going with all of this.

I think overall I just hope to see them all together again - yesterday stream was fun but also kinda stressful xD

[cinebration]

Impressed (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]

hi! could you write a (Henry) sherlock x reader where they're friends and hardcore yearning for each other, and he takes her on one of his cases for whatever reason, and she finds clues that he doesn't and she's just being super smart and he's all impressed and fluff ensues? thank you xx—Requested by anon

Hopefully you liked how this turned out. It isn’t quite standard fluff, nor is it obvious that Sherlock is yearning for the reader. After all, the man is an emotional dunce.

Warnings: blood, mention of death

Gif Source: henrycavilledits

Sherlock had a habit of appearing at whatever hour of the day best suited him. It was never unusual that he would wake the house in the early morning hours before dawn or arrive after everyone had bedded down for the night—merely unexpected, in that no one could predict the vagaries of his movements. Your parents would have taken great exception to it if it weren’t for Sherlock’s standing in the community—and more importantly, his brother’s standing.

As his friend, you occupied the coveted position of being the person at which he talked to help process his various theories on whatever case was plaguing him. Offering clarifying questions proved to be the most useful aspect of your friendship to him, as sometimes having to deign to explain what he was thinking unraveled the knots in the problem he had until that point been struggling with.

You were happy to oblige.

When Sherlock arrived one night a few strokes before midnight, however, startling your family awake but not upsetting them unduly, he did not ask you to spend hours in the library talking through the problem. Instead, he stepped just inside the entryway and said, “Please dress yourself. I need you to accompany me out.”

Shocked by the strangeness of the request—but not enough to make you hesitate to comply—you hastened back upstairs and donned a dress suited for blending into the crowd and selected a coat that would ward off the evening chill. You knew Sherlock couldn’t possibly be inviting you to some social event, so attire that could suffer damage would be preferable, you decided.

Your mother and father looked on in confusion, borderline scandalized, as you hurried past them on the landing.

“Where are you going?” your mother whispered.

“Mr. Holmes needs my help,” you answered.

“At this ungodly hour?”

You gave her and your father a chaste kiss on their dry cheeks. “Please go back to sleep. I will be fine. Or do you believe Mr. Holmes to be an unrespectable man?”

Your mother colored in embarrassment as your father’s lips pressed into a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jumping. You all but tripped down the stairs to escape his disapproving stare before he worked up the nerve to forbid you from leaving the house.

Sherlock had a cab waiting in the street. Climbing into it before him, you settled yourself on one of the thinly padded seats. Sherlock squeezed his shapely bulk in beside you much to your surprise. As the transom rocked forward, jolted by the start of the horse pulling on it, you reasoned his choice of seat reflected his desire to see out the window at things as the transom approached them rather than seeing them from behind as they passed.

“What can I help you with, Sherlock?” you asked as the silence grew too thick to bear.

“I have a particularly troublesome case that could use your perspective,” he answered. The furrow in his brow spoke volumes about how aggrieved he was over his inability to solve the case’s problem. “It would be easier to show you the scene of the crime rather than describe it to you.”

You frowned. “My perspective?” Having only ever really asked questions rather than made suggestions or observations, you were unsure as to what he meant. “Does this case have something to do with a woman?” It was the only perspective you imagined Sherlock would require, as all others he seemed easily able to grasp and frame around complex problems.

“No.”

As your confusion intensified, you couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill that Sherlock had deigned to ask for your opinion on a case as though he actually cared to hear it. You had secretly grown attached to him in a manner that would appall your parents, as they would have preferred you attach yourself to his brother than to the infamous consulting detective. You kept your feelings close to your bodice, hidden deep and away from anyone who could possibly glimpse them.

You needn’t have worried about Sherlock, however, because if it didn’t involve a case, such things were beyond his attention span. You were content enough to sit beside him and enjoy his company, you told yourself.

Pressed up against him in the small confines of the transom, however, you felt your heart fluttering most unbecomingly within your ribcage. The man felt incredibly solid pressed against your left shoulder and along your thigh, as though made of warm marble that somehow could give way beneath one’s touch. You breathed in the scent of him, a combination of smells you couldn’t identify as anything but his unique masculinity.

You felt quite heady, the dizziness exacerbated by the movement of the transom.

It lurched to a stop all too soon, jolting you out of the floating sensation you were experiencing. Quietly clearing your throat, you waited for Sherlock to exit the transom before following him out. He had enough social graces to offer his bare hand to you to help you leave the horse-drawn vehicle. Trying to ignore the sparks of feeling that shot up your arm at the contact, you smoothed your skirts and looked up to find yourself in front of a decaying flat building. The façade exhibited signs of age, from the crumbling bricks to the warping of the window and doorframes.

You glanced up and down the poorly lit avenue in an attempt to situate yourself in the city. The night was exceedingly dark, no full moon above to penetrate through the layer of polluted air capping the city. The lamps lined along the street were unevenly lit, the flames within wavering at each slight gust of wind.

This had to be one of the poorer districts.

Sherlock strode across the pavement and entered the building with no resistance, the front door unlocked for a reason you didn’t want to consider. Trailing after him, you entered the darkness of the abode.

Sherlock struck a match, his face appearing in the warm light cast off from the flame. Lighting a small lamp, he hefted it in one hand and looped his free arm through yours. The hallways were just large enough to accommodate you both as he guided you forward.

A rancid smell wafted up with the wind soughing through chinks in the façade. You pressed a hand over your mouth and nose, struggling to breathe through the odor.

“Is it a murder, then?” you asked in the dampened quiet.

“Yes.” A note of surprise tinged Sherlock’s voice. “Two nights ago a young man was found murdered in his bedroom.”

You both reached the bottom of the stairs. Ascending it, you listened to the alarming creak of each worn tread before breathing a sigh of relief on the landing that the whole thing hadn’t collapsed beneath your combined weight. Sherlock led you down a second hallway to a room two doors off the right.

The body had been removed, but the stench of it still lingered. Breathing shallowly through your mouth, you surveyed the room. It appeared to be rented, filled with the bare necessities that letting tenants required: a cot, a small chest of drawers, one small table with a chair to accompany it. The window appeared to be nailed shut, perhaps to discourage jumpers, though there was little damage to be done from a two-storey fall in the grand scheme of things.

“The door was locked from the inside, and as you can see, the window is permanently sealed,” Sherlock explained, relinquishing your arm so he could walked around the small space.

You ignored his movements and slowly took a turn about the room for yourself. The cot, stripped of its linens, bore a dark stain on one end, indicative of where the man had been sleeping when he had been killed. Blood spray flecked the wall adjacent. On closer inspection, you saw blood in a wide pattern across the floor and part of the table.

“His throat was cut?”

Sherlock paused in his walking, stared at you. “Yes. An imperfect wound, from what I saw and from what the examiner stated. He woke while it happened and had to be held down for the job to be finished.”

“Do you think one murderer or two?”

“One. It would account for how inexact the cutting was.”

“I’m assuming the door cannot be locked from the outside?”

“No.”

You wandered to the window, peered at its frame. The nails were firmly wedged into place, keeping the window shut.

You stared at their rounded heads for several seconds. Then you pressed your hands against the upper edge and shoved up hard.

The window slid free. The nails remained in place in the window frame.

There were no nails embedded in the window sill.

Sherlock was instantly at your side, staring down at the sill. He ran his palm flat against it, feeling the smoothness of it. He yanked down the window, carefully avoiding your hands so as not to hurt them, and examined the nail heads embedded in the frame.

“They’re not full nails.”

“No,” you answered. “Or they were cut or filed down before insertion. The murderer knew this and entered through the window.”

You felt Sherlock’s eyes on you. Turning to look up at him, you found his normally stoic features affected by an emotion you hadn’t seen there before: something bordering awe. Blinking in surprise, you fought with the anxious pride rising within you and demurely stepped away from the window frame, head turned away in modesty.

“That was incredible,” Sherlock breathed behind you. “How did you deduce that?”

“I really didn’t,” you answered. “I just tested the window to see.”

Sherlock circled around you. “Do not downplay your instincts. You needn’t feign modesty.”

“I’m not feigning anything.”

Shaking his head, Sherlock stared at you, the look on his face unchanged. You fidgeted beneath his gaze, overwhelmed by his expression. You were by turns immensely proud and terrified by it.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to test the window,” he muttered to himself. “This is exactly why I needed you here! Less than five minutes, and you were able to solve that particular mystery—and give me direction for where to find the killer!”

Blushing despite yourself, you shrugged and didn’t say anything in response, unsure of what to say without making an utter fool of yourself. You slowly walked out of the room, Sherlock trailing after, his eyes not once leaving you. The intensity of his gaze burned your back not unpleasantly.

As you both climbed back into the transom, you sat in the seat opposite to avoid being pressed in by Sherlock’s bulk. You didn’t consider how that position would make it virtually impossible to avoid his gaze on you.

The horse began its trek back to your home. The longer you sat there, fidgeting beneath his stare, you felt the spark of hope spread into fire.

Perhaps your feelings for Sherlock weren’t one-sided. Not anymore, at least.

[knife-eared-jan]

DA mini-theory: Giants, Dwarves and Titans

So this is just a small pet-theory of mine, but I feel super convinced it’s true. Maybe this is even an obvious given, but I’ve not seen it talked about anywhere so far:

At first I was pretty annoyed at giants suddenly being a thing in Thedas in DAI, like all the weird new animals are bad enough but a new humanoid race?? Also, "Haha, giants are super stupid” - like, what an original take on the trope /s... except then I realised just HOW “stupid” they were. This is not just your random GoT Wun Wun. And then I found some very intriguing bits of information in the codex entries. 

In the “Giant” codex:

“[...] never did I see any sense in its eye, and never did it appear to plan beyond its immediate surroundings. But I remain intrigued, for they have hands, and that means the potential to raise them in praise. “

and to a lesser extent this part:

“ Food is seemingly their only motivator, and I have observed them eating meat, grains, leaves—nearly anything digestible, with no care or joy for taste or texture. “

So they literally just eat to keep on existing and generally just do stuff to exist, without even the emotions or intelligence any animal would display? I found this hella sus... Like does this not remind you very much of something?

obviously the Tranquil kinda seem to react similarly to the world, but even more importantly,

we hear dwarves talked about this way in ancient times

So, the giants seem to behave like other humanoid races when disconnected from their race’s source of magic (and thereby also emotions). Interesting...

Then I played Jaws of Hakkon and they basically spelled it out for us TWICE in the codex entry “ Tale of Hryngnar, Ice-Troll “:

“ Dead to dreams as dwarves below us “

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I screm

My theory is that the giants are essentially a type of big dwarf that didn’t get the Mythal treatment. They are “mindless, soulless” as the dwarves were. 

That’s why they are humanoid and have hands, because they used to have a function as part of the titans’ hiveminds. Probably as extra tough fighters or for extra heavy labour or whatever. They are really kind of compareable to the ogres’ position as part of the darkspawn (and btw it would have made so much more sense for ogres to come from giants, but that’s just my personal opinion...) They probably did raise their hands in worship, along with the dwarves, for the Titans or the Stone or whatever it was back then. 

We know that in ancient times, to the outside world (the elves), the dwarves connected to titans seemed mindless, like they had no will of their own. It seems like this wasn’t actually true, based on Valta’s experiences, and it was more like a hive-mind situation probably. In any case, the dwarves seem to really only have become “mindless” after their connection to the titans, their actual minds, was severed. Solas, in dialogue with Varric (which btw has some other really interesting lore hints that I'm thinking a LOT about) says, in his usual culturally sensitive way:

“Dwarves are the severed arm of a once mighty hero, lying in a pool of blood. Undirected. Whatever skill of arms it had, gone forever. Although it might twitch to give the appearance of life, it will never dream.“

And there is this codex entry, that imo strongly implies that Mythal somehow gave the dwarves some form of individual souls and intelligence. 

“I am empty, filled with nothing(?), Mythal gives you dreams. It fills you, within you(?), Making our leaders proud. My little stones, Never yours the sun. Forever, forever. “

I can’t currently remember if there were other codex entries about Mythal and dwarves, but I feel like maybe there were? Obviously the dwarves can’t dream in their current form (which the games are very good at forgetting), but they do have individuality, especially the surface dwarves.

That theory is already floating around, so I won’t go into detail because that would definitely be over the top for this post... (I think what exactly Mythal and Solas were doing with the dwarves will be a major lore reveal in DA:D, but they definitely seem to believe to have acted in the dwarves best interest. Solas is actually surprised not to find more trickster figures in dwarven lore. But that’s it’s own whole thing.)

ANWAYS! TL;DR: My theory is that giants are mindless because they used to be connected to the titans, same as the dwarves, but didn’t have individual souls bestowed upon them by Mythal and Solas like the dwarves. So they are just these empty giant husks walking and existing about the place in the form we see them. 

[tigerdrop]

I like how you interpret benrey as a guy who just wants love and affection. A lot of people tend to forget that despite benreys weirdness, before Gordon came along apparently benrey was friends with almost all his coworkers and let them come over and play games. During gmans confrontation with Gordon, benrey interupts and harrases gman (a very SCARED gman) for his playstation information. And at the end of it, when gman leaves, benrey grumbles about how he just wants to play games with people. I'm pretty sure the only person benrey can't figure out is Gordon. Because benrey got along pretty well with everybody else except Gordon. People say that Yeah benrey gets along with science team bc they are also supernatural, but not everybodys supernatural at black mesa? There's at least some humans that have gotten along with benrey. An obvious answer: Gordon gives a lot of mixed signals and also over reacts A LOT. it foils benreys weirdness, makes it more obvious. Gordon points out things that Yeah, makes benrey seem strange. To anyone else, benrey is just a chill dude. To gordon, benrey is a cosmic entity thing that wont leave him alone. And I'm also not saying benrey isn't weird, or doesn't understand things sometimes. But if benrey did have a lot of friends like he said he did, then he must've done something right! Gordon is like a lil messed up guy! Jumps to the worst conclusions all the time, And with benreys chill attitude or impassive tone, that of course would clash with someone like Gordon. Which is what makes them interesting to write. Makes them interesting to explore their dynamic in many ways I think

god i love getting asks like these. benrey is genuinely a pretty normal guy, weird eldritch powers notwithstanding.....like, him getting along with the other AIs isnt really a consequence of them all having weird abilities, like you said. tommy and darnold dont even have anything fantastical going on! theyre both just normal guys......at worst, benreys awkward toward others. gordons the only one he pushes around, and he only seems to push gordon around b/c gordon initiated an antagonistic relationship by being unable to provide his passport (and then immediately doing his gordon thing of "being belligerent and rude for super flimsy reasons)

this exact point is what i try to drive home in this latest chapter of co-op game theory: benreys awkward and absentminded and, yeah, a little weird, but to an observer that isnt gordon, his behaviors pretty straightforward. he threw a shitfit b/c gordon was being super fucking rude to him from the moment alyx met them! and she may not have known exactly why he jumped to (what seemed to be) the nuclear option, but gordons not even self aware enough to realize that hes being a major asshole. and the reasons he gives for acting that way only make sense to him! to anybody else, theyre borderline incomprehensible

but like.....if youre looking at it through gordons eyes, like youre basically forced to do by virtue of the first-person POV in hlvrai, its hard to see a perspective beyond "benrey is a freak and a jerk and a bonafide Bad Guy". which is why im having a lot of fun looking at them from every other characters' perspective

gordon might have a point that benreys done some bad stuff, but if it was all just a game/simulation, by his own admission......how do you justify that enmity to someone else? sure, he cut off your arm (in the thing that you freely admit isnt real, and is just a simulation), but you killed him. you won. isnt that enough?

its neat stuff and i know i talk about basically the same shit ad infinitum but thats why i like writing them so much!

[femme-florale]

gideon the first was *redacted*

spoiler warning for the nona the ninth sneak peak but there is sooo much backstory for g1deon that's just too good to pass up

So, technically, this theory could alternatively apply to Pyrrha, but I am going off the idea that G1deon isn't actually gone. some part of him is still clinging onto his body and for some reason, they haven't told the others.

Gideon the First (or Pyrrha, if you're boring) was the head of the FBI pre-resurrection. Evidence is as follows:

This might be one of the most obvious pieces of evidence for whoever is speaking out of G1deon's body to have obviously been the head of the (Federal) Bureau (of Investigation). However, this is also the basis for my theory that Gideon isn't dead, is occasionally taking back control of his body, and perhaps even able to converse with Pyrrha. We know that any mention of eyes in this series is always meaningful, and it's so specific that "Pyrrha turned her eyes up to the ceiling." Why would TM make it a point to mention that? Perhaps because it's not Gideon's eyes (Pyrrha's soul) looking out, but Pyrrha's eyes (Gideon's soul). Additionally, "she didn't sound like she was addressing either of them," and, "This is the punishment she would have wanted for me. God, she must be pissing herself laughing," are both phrases that are referring to an unknown female character. Specifically that last bit, "she must be pissing herself laughing," stands out to me. The text doesn't say that she "WOULD" piss herself laughing, but that she "must" be. Implying that Gideon is in the driver's seat and that "she," meaning Pyrrha, is actually conscious and aware of their surroundings.

Evidence #2: Nona makes a very astute observation about Pyrrha's body language, which is quite impressive considering that

Pyrrha/Gideon has had 10,000 years as a professional secret-keeper to practice maintaining her poker face

Nona was "born" four months before she makes this observation. She JUST started interacting with and learning about other people, but can somehow read Pyrrha like a book. Except better than she can read a book. Because she's illiterate. MOVING ON

The last line here is also quite telling. "Wish I'd had you in the Bureau" makes perfect sense if said Bureau is the FBI. Mad skillz like Nona's would have made her such an asset.

"...but she didn't answer the question" is just the first time we hear about this specific behavior of Pyrrha's, leading us into...

Hot Sauce deflecting Nona's question with another question. Idk about you but that sounds like interrogation tactics to me that's all.

While we're on the topic of interrogation, this seems relevant. "While immortal" has some pretty serious implications. Obviously this should also be read within context and the understanding that Pyrrha is suffering and since alcohol doesn't do it for her and nothing could really hurt her anyway, why not chug bleach? I hope we get to see more of her vulnerabilities and how Gideon ascending to Lyctorhood and "losing" Pyrrha (who was more or less trapped for ten thousand years) and then Pyrrha "losing" Gideon to the RB at the end of HTN (but somehow his soul clings on enough to be able to come back??) has really put both of them through the wringer. Does BOE have any good therapists?

Unrelated to torture, I find it very interesting that Pyrrha has at least some degree of proficiency in eight languages. Why would she have needed to know that? Unless... She was part of an intelligence agency. In which case being able to listen to and understand (or at least get the gist of) conversations in other languages would have been pretty much a requirement for her job.

It's literally her job to know everything about everybody. That's all.

Bonus:

While I don't for a moment doubt that Pyrrha would call herself "daddy" (I would call her daddy too who are we kidding), I think there's still a chance this is G1deon talking through his own body while everyone else thinks it's Pyrrha talking through his body. Nona was very nearly in dreamland at this point and is relying on her sense of hearing to determine that it's Pyrrha at the door, so I think we can safely assume that her eyes are closed. Camilla didn't open her eyes, and so would not have been able to see if Pyrrha's eyes were the color she expected them to be. Maybe this isn't the strongest piece of evidence that Gideon survived, but it's cute and still worth mentioning.

[seriouslysnape]

Moonlight Dip

Neville Longbottom x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sexual content (super brief).

Word Count: 2,588

“We’re going swimming.”

Hogwarts was always desolate and quiet at this time of night. The only person who was supposed to be stirring was Filch, Mrs. Norris, and possibly Professor Snape keeping an eye out for any students who had grown bold enough to break curfew. Most students didn’t bother trying to sneak around the castle at night. Not because they were afraid of getting caught, but because if they DID get caught, they’d have to deal with Filch’s overly strict behavior. Honestly, that was a punishment in and of itself. 

Which was why Neville just couldn’t seem to figure out why you were leading him through the dark corridors, moving like a woman on a mission. You had crept into his dorm around midnight or so, pouncing on his bed and shaking him from his gentle slumber. You barely waited for him to wake up before you were whisper-shouting at him that you had somewhere for the two of you to go. He never minded a surprise visit from you, but he also wasn’t very keen on attempting to slip out undetected. Still, his curiosity won out.

“Hey, uh, flower?” He whispered, not knowing where Filch might’ve been.

“Yes, Neville?” You whispered back, peering your head around the corner to check for anyone coming. 

“Where are we going exactly? And why are you in your robes?” He questioned, feeling a bubble of nervousness in his chest.

Truth be told, Neville felt a little underdressed. He was clad in his pajamas bottoms and an old t-shirt that he only used to sleep in. You looked back at him with a smile, his heart leaping at how beautiful you looked under the illumination of the Lumos you had uttered from your wand. Neville had learned to be more spontaneous after he had begun dating you. You were as sweet and respectful as anyone, but you definitely had a wild side that sometimes shaved some years off of Neville’s life. He wasn’t sure what to think of it at first, but over time he found that he loved all of your silly shenanigans. Even the ones that had gotten you both in hot water before. 

“I told you, Nev. It’s a surprise!” You answered, squeezing his hand that was interlaced in yours, “It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you.”

Neville made a puzzled, yet thoughtful look as he racked his brain of possible ideas. He thought that maybe that you were daring to venture to Hogsmeade for a late night snack. Every now and again, you’d convince Neville to help you with sneaking into Honeydukes after hours to snag a few treats (don’t worry, you always left the right amount of money on the counter to pay for it). 

However, his theory was proven wrong when he realized that you were taking him past the courtyard and in the general direction of the Quidditch field. He was glad that it was well into spring now, and the nights were warm with the days. You didn’t play Quidditch though, and neither did he. So he couldn’t fathom why you were headed that way.

“The Quidditch fields are always dark this time of night. There’s no way we’ll be able to see.” Neville pointed out, mumbling under his breath when he almost tripped on a loose rock. 

You turned to look at him again, another smile plastering on your face. 

“Then it’s a good thing that we aren’t going there.” You replied.

Sure enough, you kept walking towards your desired locating, keeping your antsy boyfriend in tow. About the time that Neville had given up on trying to figure out where you were taking him, his question was answered. The lake was always so pretty at night, and tonight was no exception. The moon was only a phase away from being full, but still offering enough light to where the two of you could somewhat see. The reflection bounced beautifully off of the dark lake, creating glittering ripples in the water when it was agitated from it’s still position.

You let go of Neville’s hand once you were standing on the bank, crouching down to untie your shoelaces. Neville stood still, his arms at his side rather awkwardly. He wasn’t picking up on your plan just yet.

“I didn’t know that you like to fish.” Neville said aloud, not bothering to whisper anymore since there was no chance that anyone would be out here.

“I don’t.” You giggled, removing your shoes and socks.

Neville’s eyebrows raised, still oblivious even as your fingertips worked at untying the cord around your robes. Well, he WAS oblivious, until it was literally right in front of his face.

“Then why are we- oh my God, what are you doing?” He cut himself off when your robes fell to the grass, revealing your bra and knickers underneath.

Neville was glad that it was mainly dark outside, because his sudden deep blush would’ve been painfully obvious otherwise. You smirked at the bashful boy who was frozen in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

“We’re going swimming.” You announced, reaching for his hand again. 

Except he didn’t take your hand. He wasn’t on board with this idea at all.

“Oh no. No, no, no. I draw the line at swimming naked!” He rattled off, taking a step away from you.

You weren’t offended in the slightest, and you were even rather amused at his skittish behavior. This was nothing new to you.

“I’m technically not naked.” You reminded him calmly.

“You’re in your knickers!” He hissed back, his eyes widening as he actually took a second to look at the lacy material.

“Exactly. Which equals not naked.” You returned, fighting the urge to burst into laughter.

“Nope!” He protested, sitting down on the grass instead, “I’ve defended us for getting caught sneaking off for Chocolate Frogs and breaking into the library at 3 o’clock in the morning. But I will not try to explain why we were in the lake naked.” 

Neville seemed adamant about staying put where he was. He was tempted to get up and leave, but there was no shot in hell that he was going to leave you out here by yourself. He was perfectly fine with sitting off to the side and observing from a safe distance.

“You see me in my underwear all the time, Nevy,” You said, not really believing that the lack of clothes was what he was timid about, “Is it the ‘nakedness’ or the critters that sometimes live in the lake?”

Neville was frightened of a lot of things, and while he tended to love animals, aquatic animals were an exception. Fish and water-based bugs freaked him out for some reason that even you didn’t quite understand. The only animals that lived in and around water that he liked were frogs and toads. The only aspect of the lake that he might enjoy (aside from seeing you wet and half-naked) were the plants that were undoubtedly growing below the surface.

“Maybe both...” He murmured, resting his forearms on top of his knees that were pulled into his chest, “Regardless, I’m staying right here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, believing your intuition that said that he’d be in the water with you in less than fifteen minutes.

“Suit yourself.” You told him before making a graceful entrance splash into the water.

He watched as you plunged in, your entire frame disappearing under the water that looked black due to the inky color of the sky. Neville felt his nerves get fired up when you went under, a slight anxiety in his gut that you might not come back up. The lake wasn’t super deep by any means, only coming up to just below your hip. Neville knew that it was possible to drown in any depth of water, which was why he became a bit on edge.

Thankfully, though, you emerged from below the water before he could get too worked up. He watched with interest when your hands swept your wet hair backwards, slicking it on your head. 

Neville had always found you pretty. He thought you were the most beautiful girl on the planet. While he always thought that you looked stunning, there were still times where it was much more clear to him. For instance, early in the morning when you’ve just woken up is one of his favorites. Or right before a Gryffindor party on Friday nights when you’ve taken extra time to get spiffied up. Seeing you always made his heart beat with a little more purpose. It reminded him of how much he cared for and loved you. 

And this moment now really had him swooning.

His eyes studied as water droplets dripped from your frame, soaking into your underwear and gliding down your beautiful skin. It created a shiny gleam over you, bringing out all of his favorite parts of you. He must’ve fallen into a lusty daze, because he felt himself snap back into reality when you called to him.

“You sure you don’t want to get in?” You spoke, letting your fingertips trail over the surface of the lake.

Neville shook his head in response. 

“I’m good here, tulip. Promise.” He said, still not sure if this was something he wanted to do. 

You never pressured Neville into doing things he didn’t want to do. You never wanted him to be uncomfortable around you or associate discomfort with spending time with you. However, you knew that Neville was a worrier. He was an avid overthinker and sometimes just let his nerves get the best of him. You encouraged him to live a little more, without thinking about every single possible outcome of a situation. It’s great to be cautious and aware, but life without taking some risks could be...boring. You just didn’t want Neville to grow old with you and wish he hadn’t let his head get the best of him.

You swam out towards the middle of the lake, but not so far that you couldn’t see or hear Neville. You floated on your back and played with things that you found on the mushy, sandy floor of the lake. Neville maintained a conversation with you, but found himself feeling tempted to join you. It was just swimming. It wasn’t like the two of you were trying to blow up the lake or anything. 

“How does...how does it feel?” Neville asked, stifling a giggle at how you were bouncing on your feet with your head lolled to the side to get water out of your ear.

“It’s nice. It’s not warm by any means, but it feels good.” You told him, wringing the excess water from your hair, “Changed your mind?”

Neville chewed the inside of his cheek, but he was warming up to the idea.

“I don’t even have a pair of swim trunks with me.” He argued.

You motioned towards your own body with a look of hilarity.

“Oh, and I’m wearing my swimsuit? It doesn’t matter, love. Just take off what you have on.” You instructed, getting hopeful that he was actually going to do it.

Neville stood from where he sat, stripping down to his boxers at a snail’s pace. He folded his clothes neatly, setting them next to your robes that he had also folded previously. He dipped his foot into the water, expecting it to be much colder than it actually was. It was a lukewarm temperature, something that would be refreshing on a hot summer day, but far too freezing for a frigid winter day. For his moderate spring night, it was perfect.

Neville didn’t love how the bottom of the lake felt on his feet. It was a mix of a squishy, gelatinous feeling. You reached for his hands excitedly, taking them as he waded out to where you were standing.

“So, what do you think?” You wondered, careful not to freak him out too much,

“It feels...nice. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this lake,” He admitted, “How did you even come up with this?”

“Well, you told me once that your Gran used to have a little pond behind her house that you liked to swim in during the summer. You said you enjoyed it and I thought maybe this would be something you’d like too,” You explained to him, suddenly feeling insecure about this whole thing, “I know it’s probably not the same or as fun.”

Now things really started to make sense. Neville felt the cage of butterflies flutter all into his belly whenever you did something sweet for him. Especially when it was something with sentimental value. 

Neville had undeniably fallen in love with you. Not because of your witty personality or the random adventures you liked to take him on. Those things were plenty great, and he cherished those things with everything he had. But that wasn’t what made him decide that you were his future. 

It was the pureness of your heart.

He fell for you more and more each time you did something for him. Whether it was as small as you combing your fingers through his hair when he was asleep on your chest in the common room, or as big as the time you devised a plan to throw a surprise birthday party for him at his Gran’s house. No matter what it was, you never hesitated to spend your energy, time, and love on making him happy.

“I did always like that pond, flower. But...you want to know something?” He said smoothly, with just the faintest hint of shakiness in his tone, “This is a lot better.”

He pulled you in close at the sight of your brightening eyes, bringing you down with him as he sank down to his knees under the top of the water.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” You pressed on.

“Because you’re here.” He mewled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

His descent of kisses trailed down to your nose, to your cheeks, to your lips. His kisses were never rushed in moments like this. They weren’t ever in a rush to get to the point or so rough that he didn’t have a chance to feel it. He liked to take his time with you. He liked to savor you.

“I love you, Nev. I really do.” You professed once he pulled away from you.

“I love you, petal,” He returned, going to kiss you again, but stopped when he took a big swash of lake water to the face.

He let out a startled gasp at how he was totally soaked now. It dripped from his hair, droplets rolling to the tip of his nose before falling off back into the lake. He caught your mischievous expression, your cheeks puffed out as you fought your laughter.

“Really funny, doll.” He sputtered, nonchalantly reaching around to your back and unclasping your bra with one hand. He managed to whip it off of you with ease, leaving you completely naked on top.

“Neville!” You squealed, “Give it back! That’s my favorite one!” 

Neville teased you as he held your bra high in the air above his head, chuckling as you struggled (and failed) to get it back.

“Don’t worry, love bug. I’ll take good care of it. But if you want it...” Neville paused, shimmying past you and waddling further out into the lake with a sneaky, yet innocent sneer on his face;

“You’ve got to come and get it.”

*****

Tags: @lupinsslut @writingscape @msmimimerton​ @thefilmcity​