#its just so incredibly organic and you can see and hear every movement and emotion !!

[neacle]

I'm not kidding when I say Neil Newbon as Astarion might have one of the greatest voice acting performances I've ever heard

[sassooda]

Worlds Away / Chapter 40 - One in the Same 🔞

w/c - 6,476

               “Love…”.

As Satoru positions himself back on the bed with a heavy heart, he wonders how long he’ll be without her voice. Elska lies there unconscious, in her own queen-sized bed a few feet away from Naoya who is also in the same condition but in a separate bed. The room Satoru mentioned to everyone before has become their new quarters but with his own personal flare. The five walls are a deep blue-grey, the trim a dark red, all decorative furnishings either that same red or a bright light blue. The sheets both of the sleepers are wrapped in resemble the color of love. This was all designed and put together as a surprise but things haven’t exactly gone as planned.

               As he situates himself next to her, Gojo finds that he desires the comfort of her heartbeat. Laying his head on her chest, he relives the horrors of when he and Choso arrived to find them. He’s weighted with guilt, having become too distracted by his mother to focus that day. ‘What did they have to go through?’, he can only imagine having seen the scene himself. Although he wasn’t particularly bothered by the gore, Choso’s reaction said it all as normal people would easily have been mortified. Gojo’s heart also sinks from the sin of dealing with the woman who gave birth to him, even if she was monstrous herself.

               “My love…”, his voice is broken from emotion as he whispers to her caringly, “Please come back to me.”. He’s been informed by Nanami and the others that Toji once found her in this same state, taking 6 days to wake up previously. This information doesn’t comfort him however after perceiving the devastation her, Naoya and Toji must have experienced. ‘…and we still haven’t found him yet.’. Satoru knows for a fact that if she wasn’t mentally compromised from the attack, not having Toji will certainly destroy her.

               He positions her arms to lay over him, as if she’s wrapping them around his own. Gojo is still reeling from his own experiences that day on top of everything else. The heartache that dwells within him after killing his mother plagues him as if she still existed, only differently. “Love, I didn’t know it would hurt.”. A tear spills from each of his darkened eyes, remembering the vexation that woman caused him for his entire life. There certainly wasn’t any love lost between them but a piece of him died with her and he can’t explain why. In this moment, he only needs to be held by his love. As he listens to the rhythm in which her heart pumps, he feels like he’s brought to a point of necessary, although temporary ease. Bringing her even closer lowers him deeper into security, feeling safe and nurtured by her touch alone. Her and Naoya have only been out for roughly 18 hours at this point, leaving him to also dread how much time he’ll be without her.

               **KNOCK, KNOCK**

               Without moving at all, Satoru calls for them to enter and sighs as he feels close to losing his composure. He decides to not hide his despair for lack of current ability.

               Choso quietly strolls in and takes in Satoru’s depression. He’s apprehensive about how unstable Gojo’s been since coming back to the academy but appreciates how much the man is going through. A slight grin appears across Choso’s face though as he looks over Gojo’s clothes, they’re both wearing their group-matching pajamas. Upon approaching Naoya, Choso pulls back the covers to further evaluate him, wanting to be sure all wounds were healed. He says to his friend, “You are one fortunate man…”, and pulls the sheets up with a smile. He then takes Naoya’s hand with relief on mind, understanding that Naoya will likely be happy at the fact that he was turned. Choso has reservations about this but they’re not strong enough for him to speak on.

               Megumi now enters and walks straight over to Elska, on the opposite side from Gojo. He’s still in a state of shock after being filled in on the aftermath. He’s in a foul disposition not knowing where Toji is and is even further upset with how messed her and Naoya looked upon being retrieved. When he reaches out to take up Elska’s hand, his is swatted away, causing him to lower deeper into his anger.

               “Leave her alone.”, Gojo growls from Elska’s chest. He immediately feels bad for snapping at Megumi but that was the only warning he was capable of. The hurt displayed on his former student’s face that he catches out of the corner of his eyes prompts him to sit up a little. “I’m sorry Megs, I just… she’s mine.”.

               Megumi is feeling disheartened by his current fears on his father’s whereabouts and feels almost completely alone as he drowns in his thoughts. The territorial stance made on Elska causes him to snap, “She is her own person, you’re fucking delusional!”. As his breath catches in his throat, he waits for Satoru to respond maliciously but becomes confused when he doesn’t. ‘I just want to make sure she’s ok…’.

               Choso walks over to Megumi and speaks with purpose, “Please let Gojo have time with her, he’s been through a lot…”, and nods as if to reiterate there still are things Megumi is unaware of. Choso sees the discontent on Megumi’s face and can feel the boy’s presence fluctuating so he continues, “And we will find Toji, I promise you. He loves you, you know…”. He watches Megumi’s eyes become glossy as he tries to fend off the tears so Choso hugs him. “I’m sure he’s ok, we just have to get to him…”.

               Megumi usually wouldn’t accept the embrace but he feels so incredibly small and useless. He finds Choso’s need to comfort him endearing and wishes he’d been kinder to the being in the past, knowing now how well he means. “I…I miss my dad…”, he meant for it to be a statement but the clarification is muddled by the sorrow in his voice and it only strengthens as Choso continues to try and soothe him.

               “Just come back later Megs…I know you’re worried too…”, Satoru doesn’t make eye contact but his voice is genuine. “I just need to be with her right now…”. He now curls back up into Elska and sighs deeply. “She would be angry if I kept everyone from her…”, and Satoru knows this is a fact but is still not budging on the current meeting.

               Megumi wasn’t expecting Gojo to offer time up so he doesn’t know how to respond. With a fake scoff he replies, “I will then.”, and heads towards the door. Before leaving he stops and turns around to face them once more, “Shoko is awake now and she wants to see you Gojo.”, then shuts it behind him.

               Satoru is aware that they have a prisoner underneath the school and Shoko likely has important information to give to him, he just hasn’t the motivation to move. He buries his face into Elska further, wanting to escape his current duties and pretend they’re just napping together. “Please come back.”.

               After a few seconds, Choso exhales, “I’m glad Shoko’s alright.”. After being teleported to Elska’s location, he had to carry her back through his portal while Gojo grabbed Naoya. Choso immediately began to heal Naoya after they returned to the academy but they were soon met with Nanami who requested him to see to Shoko’s head injuries as well. Choso recalls that while he was navigating through his shadow realm that Elska’s energy once again lingered behind them and even seemed to stain some of the surroundings. He’s always been curious as to why hers behaves differently than everyone else. While lost in his thoughts, he’s jolted back to the present as Gojo begins to cry next to Elska.

               “Gojo…”, Choso was caught off guard but feels he needs to allow privacy as he doesn’t know what to do. The terrifying Silver Shaman condenses before him, leaving a new wave of misery within his very being. Choso’s still shaken up by the events that took place with everyone and has yet to properly deal with the emotions flowing through him. He glances over to Naoya for a second and then internally declares he will return later. He hears Gojo plead for him to wait so he turns around and utilizes patience as Satoru collects himself.

               “We…We have to find Toji.”, Satoru finds himself worried with the possibilities that could be his friend’s fate. Choso nods so he says, “Please, please search for him.”. Gojo looks down at Elska who has yet to show signs of waking, “For both of their sakes, we need to get him back.”. Now darting cold eyes to back to Choso, “I will kill whoever I need to. I will fucking explode every last one of them. This is what they deserve.”. Satoru’s eyes narrow as he thinks of who this Genghis is and how that man is likely responsible for organizing the horrific event. ‘He at least helped Getou…’.

               Choso felt a chill crawl down his spine while listening to Gojo. ‘He very well means it.’, crosses his mind but he’s actually reinforced by the statement because he has his own revenge that occupies the same goal. He straightens himself while looking at Satoru, “We will find them and we will end them.”. Choso now brings his gaze to Elska for the first time and finds his dark thoughts fading, beginning to feel consumed by irrational emotions that stem from her condition as well. He has this completely visceral knot that tells him to remain near her but he can’t justify why so he thinks its best not go far at least. “I’m going to try some mapping but I’ll be nearby if needed…”, Choso now reluctantly opens the door and leaves.

               Snuggling back into Elska, Satoru closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing. “Everything’s so fucked up, love.”, he regretfully informs her as she sleeps. Wanting to be even closer to her, he now takes her right leg and hoists it over himself. He pulls down the front of her slip but only so he can her skin against his cheek. “They will pay for this…”, he seethes as he thinks about the new trauma her and Naoya had to live through at the hands of the Titers. “Genghis and Getou…”, his partnered enemies. He opens his eyes to slight movement. “Love?”. Slowly she begins to stir more, moving her legs and arms to in an attempt to regain awareness. Satoru hurriedly sits up and looks down to her with endearing hope.

               Elska is coming to already and smiles sweetly once she opens her eyes to see Satoru. “My sweet Sati…”, she raises her arm to hold his cheek, only now detecting his anxieties. This realization triggers her though as the ominous memories play back in her mind. She instantly screams at the top of her lungs and is sent into a hysterical state once again. She doesn’t know that she’s flailing around during this until she feels Satoru anchor his body around her to prevent her from harming herself. She struggles against him though as she continues to wail. “THE CHILDREN!”, rips through the room and Satoru understands kids must have been present in the attack.

               Satoru whimpers regrettably and holds her while her heart breaks. As her cries echo the otherwise silent room, he feels his heart responding, “My love, I’m so sorry…”. He rests his chin above her head as she begins to settle, although her sobs are still incredibly fierce. Her breath can be felt against his chest and neck as she heaves air in this dismantled state. He squeezes her tighter and reminds her, “I’m here love, I’m here. You’re safe now…”. He begins to tear up too as her voice goes silent and strains to make a high-pitched, fading squeak, the fact that she’s as broken as he assumed absolutely wrecking his confidence on the matter but he repeats, “You’re safe now.”, and kisses the top of her head. Satoru notices how strong her presence is and thinks that the whole campus should be aware of her waking.

               Choso heard and felt her so he runs back into the room. “ELSKA!”, he continues his pace to the side of the bed where Megumi was and sits down. The sounds that leave her compel him to place a hand on her side as she’s still overlapped by Gojo. She seems to respond to him and calms down slightly but with wide and teary eyes he looks to Gojo who’s just as unnerved by the situation. He hears her say, “They made Toji…kill. They crushed…Getou…he crushed the children…”, and to these words, a tear falls from the beings face. ‘Getou has no qualms with killing innocents…’, but he keeps this information to himself while deciding he should share the tragedy of his brothers eventually.

               Elska is slowly comprehending that the horrible sights behind her eyes are of the past but is still riddled with mourning. Understanding that the men have no idea of what all happened she forces herself to compose the best she can and tries to sit up. Satoru only took a second to understand so he is soon helping her. She remembers everything from the attack, which is different than how it’s happened in the past. With weary and swollen eyes, she looks at the two before her and says, “They tried to kill Naoya…”, she glances between Satoru and Choso, “His heart actually stopped.”, the fear of her prince dying reclaims its stance. “He blocked the spear meant for me…”, she looks over and sees him there laying motionlessly and begins to panic.

               Choso can see her apprehension as her eyes drift to Naoya and says, “He’s right there Elska”, and grabs her hand as he can only imagine how awful that was, “He is stable and with new energy.”. Her eyes light up but then become watery again as she quietly speaks, “But they took Toji with t…them couldn’t protect both…”, and feels his lips quiver as she deteriorates before them again. Choso’s hand is now on her leg so he brushes the spot to provide additional security. “Knowing that helps, I will find him Elska.”.

               Satoru feels Megumi and Itadori approaching the room so he yells, “NOT RIGHT NOW!”, and becomes satisfied when they stop. Looking back to Elska he grabs her shoulders and kisses her forehead, “Love I am going to fix all of this.”. He lifts her chin to him and with complete determination radiating from his eyes, “Everything is going to be ok. I will show no mercy.”, and she seems to be consoled by the darkness exuding him. He kisses her cheek and whispers, “We will paint the city with their blood.”.

               Elska feels like his dark nature is nurturing her very soul. In a strange wave of reassurance, the calamity within her lessens so she finally begins to settle into him. While closing her eyes and taking a deep but jagged breath however, the familiar voice ricochets through her.

               ‘FEED FROM THE HYBRID’

               Her eyes jolt open and she slowly turns her head towards Choso who’s still sympathetically rubbing her leg. She questions if she should but understands there is a reason she’s being prompted to do so.

               ‘YOU WILL SOON BE WHOLE’

               With a mousey voice, “Sati?”, she feels through his chest, his “Yes my love?”, and pulls away from him, “I need to feed from Choso.”.

               “I don’t think that’s a good idea love, why would you say that?”, Satoru is afraid that she will repeat history and is adamant about making things better not worse. He looks over to Choso who shares his reluctance and eyes him in a way to warn that it isn’t going to happen. “Love what if you lose control?”, he doesn’t understand what she could be thinking but fears it doesn’t matter as her eyes begin to glow. “Love…”.

               Elska adjusts herself to her knees and holds her own body, “I think the other me is me.”. When she looks up to them both she can tell they’re confused by that but she proceeds, “I have to do it.”. She launches herself over top Choso and pins his arms down, “Choso I’m so sorry!”. She sees that Satoru has warped to that side of the bed in an attempt to reach her so she growls. He seems to be hurt by this so she adds, “JUST TRUST ME!”, and feels less anxious as he slowly pulls his hands away from her.

               Choso’s in shock beneath her, not being sure as to why this is happening or if he should fight her or not. He darts his scared eyes to Gojo fearing that this won’t go over well but is confused as the Silver Shaman seems to retract. He now looks at Elska and can tell she’s not liking how she placed him in this position and suddenly feels at ease. ‘Was this why I wanted to stay?’. He nods to her and lays back down into the bed as her fangs pierce him shortly afterwards. Choso instantly moans and latches onto her, feeling one of his bent legs touching the floor kick out reflexively. She whimpers near his ear and it causes him to melt in place while she pulls from him. After a few seconds her left hand laces into his hair and grips the strands to pull his head more to the side, him closing his eyes and complying. She soon is grinding against him, exuding pleasurable noises which would have been his main focus if her presence wasn’t darkening so rapidly.

               Gojo is cautiously monitoring the situation and feels he should stop it when her gestures turn sexual. Hearing her moan seductively into Choso leaves a bad taste in his mouth but remembers he chose to trust her. He knows this is the other Elska now but her words haunt him, “I think the other me is me.”, bringing him into a new state of contradiction as he thinks about how he’ll handle this if shit hits the fan. As he watches her free hand sail from Choso’s chest to underneath her he can’t help himself, “LOVE!”.

               Elska grabs Choso’s member and squeezes it. She hears him quietly yelp and hums to his growing as she begins to fondle him further but eventually stops and closes the being’s puncture marks. ‘FOCUS’.  Sitting herself over him she inhales deeply before looking down, “It’s incredible, how arousing your blood is…”, and manically looks down to his flushed expression, “…but it makes sense.”. She can tell Satoru reaching out behind her so she quickly grabs his wrist and flings him overhead and onto the bed next to Choso. She relishes in the shaman’s surprise to her strength and chooses to say in the lowly voice, “My favorite human…”, and grinds on Choso again instinctively, meaning the gesticulation for Satoru. Before either of them can say anything she continues, “She is right, we are one in the same…”. Still feeling overcome with desire she takes Satoru’s left hand and forces it upon her breast and whimpers when he grabs it. ‘FOCUS’, cascading through her mind. “They took my beloved but I believe they were meaning for me. I became too confident and played with the Titers, I was having fun.”. She feels the anger race across her expression as the failure surges within her again. “When the mind was repressed, we split into two in order to salvage as much as possible.”, she looks to Satoru with devious eyes, “We would’ve slowly gone mad otherwise.”. Neither of them are speaking, giving her the floor so she turns her glowing gaze to Choso, “You and I are almost exact in product, we were just born differently…I am half curse as well.”.

               Choso’s eyes widen to this immensely as many pieces fall into place. Her energy that lingers, her ability to sense the darkness within him, the fact that his blood fuels her. He breaks his gaze with Elska to turn to Satoru who seems to be thinking but isn’t overly sharing his true feelings on the matter. Her presence increases rapidly again so he quickly looks back to her and becomes afraid as she licks her lips at him. She says, “If Sati wasn’t here, I’d take you right now…”, and he feels her hand caress the side of his face but holds his breath not knowing what that exactly meant. ‘Does she mean…’, and looks down at his lap as she sinks her weight into him. He cries out, “Elska NO!”, but feels himself being pinned by her again.

               “Elska…”, Satoru is not sure as to what is going on but knows he should tread lightly with his disgust of her harboring secret desires for Choso. She looks to him expressionlessly but the attention was enough, “…Love, I’m sorry for doing this to you.”, he feels the shame in his heart and almost as if she could read his mind she says, “This was a war waged far before you were born sweet Sati. My ancestors and those of the Zenin and Titer clans started this centuries ago. A tragic love story…”. While still remaining her eyes on Satoru, “A Zenin once loved a woman from the Oda clan but their union was rejected for her clan’s lack of status. Oda’s were not inherently shaman and suffered in servitude to the major clans for this and many other reasons. An intelligent and unusually empathetic curse heard their plight and decided to offer them a deal. The Oda’s would evolve, allowing them capabilities of harnessing cursed energy. The heartbroken woman accepted without understanding what would be waged allowing the curse to manifest itself into fragments to take form in every Oda. The Titers, who were then one of the major clans, saw this as a threat and manipulated the time continuum to relocate the Oda’s to a place where they would not have to fear their dark powers.” She exhales, “The curse’s stipulations were for the Oda’s to end humanity by turning them into similar but lesser beings which would eventually allow the curse to take physical form once again.”. Gojo is left in awe by this explanation. ‘A Zenin?’, and turns his head to Naoya and contemplates on the unexplainable connection Elska and Naoya have always had. He realizes something and tells her, “The Zenin’s want you apart of their clan this time…”, his eyes unfasten completely, “…The Titers do too now.”, he thinks of his mother’s words that confirmed they want to breed with her.

“Yes but they foolishly misunderstand their place. The Titers never have and never will be able to control me. Their thoughts otherwise on this are contrived.”. Elska now thinks of Suguru. “I drank from Getou and learned a great deal, he’s merely their powerful puppet. I believe I placed enough doubt in his mind though, if he’s worth anything he will realize his own will.”. Choso and Gojo both wear expressions of mortification that she ignores, “If he ends up agreeing with his clan then I’ll be forced to act however.”, She grins frenziedly, “They do not properly comprehend that their fate rests on my whims.” Her eerie smile fades, “What they’ve done however, I will require lives to pay for it.”. She looks over to Naoya and winces to the reminder that he suffered greatly, “My prince will soon awaken. His DNA synthesis rapidly took course and it was unlike anything we’ve ever seen…”. Merely gazing upon her blonde lover quells her strength, “He has an adverse effect on my existence, he drains me of my ability to stay in this form…”, she looks back to Choso, “…which is why I need to become whole. You can make this possible.”.

Gojo is trying to make sense of this new information and is categorizing his brain for this purpose. When her eyes meet his own again she grins and says, “I will have you too when the time is right. You’re a variable in all of this, the Gojo’s have never had a turned amongst their ranks and with your innate power, I am hesitant to expose you to this needlessly. In theory I will be your master but your soul particularly is already so darkened that I am forced to question what your nature will be.”. Satoru has never discussed becoming like her but a small part of his heart is mended knowing that he’s not left out of her collection. “Love, I would be willing if you saw fit.”, he removes his hand from her breast and brings it to her face. She seems to like being addressed this way which cements the fact for him that they really both are Elska. ‘She refers to me as Sati too.’.

               Elska abruptly dips back down into Choso’s neck and bites him again. His cursed blood reanimates through her veins and feels herself growing even stronger. The thought of wiping out the Titers and rescuing her beloved mix with the sensations the being gives her causing her to moan deeply. She feels him growing more underneath her again and smiles into him and wishes that she didn’t need his permission to turn him.

               ‘HE IS NOT READY YET’

               Despite her current ecstasy, she yanks her head up and huffs with annoyance before closing the wounds. “Sometimes I grow fucking tired of your voice.”.

               ‘Who is she talking to?’, Choso feels his brow furrow as he recalls the other times she seemed to speak to no one. He’s reading that she’s now agitated and wonders if he shouldn’t make a break for it soon. He thinks about Naoya and Toji, how they would be losing their shit if they were witnessing this and doesn’t want to be at the receiving end of Gojo’s wrath either.

               “You need not run…”, Elska sighs to the obvious hesitation from Choso and maneuvers herself off of him and stands. “I will not turn either of you right now for our efforts should be placed into retrieving my beloved.”. Gojo warps behind her and spins her around and she feels his arms embrace her. With confusion she asks, “Do you not fear me, Sati?”.

               Satoru chuckles into her hair, “Oh I fear you…I just love you as well.”, and is surprised when this dark Elska relaxes into him. ‘She loves monsters because she is one too…’. He knows this thought would likely terrify anyone else but he feels a new bond has been created between them in this moment and reminds her, “I know you feared me but you also never let me go.”. He inhales her scent begins to sway them, “You’re my love.”. He wonders as well who she meant that random statement to but doesn’t feel the need to press her for more information as he’s still working through what was just laid out.

               Being so close to Satoru, feeling his body heat and breath brings Elska back to her arousal she’s been fighting for the sake of communication. She bites his chest through his shirt and rakes her nails down his back as he whimpers. She can taste his own excitement and decides that enough was said.

               Gojo feels himself being pushed onto the bed and watches Choso jump up to standing. Elska straddles him and tears her slip open before glaring down and demanding, “Remove your shirt.”. He hastily does as he’s told while admiring how frightening her mannerisms are. When she leans down to kiss him, she lifts her weight from his lap and growls, “Your clothing is still in the way.”, to which he shimmies the waistband to his thighs, allowing his hardened flesh to make contact with her bare skin. He quickly finds Choso who is standing a few feet away with his jaw slacked open, “Cho-…”, she covers his lips and aligns herself with Satoru’s erection and says, “Do not concern yourself with him whilst I fuck you.”. He then feels her wet warmth slide down his shaft and groans loudly into her palm as she felt amazing. She pins his arms over his head against the mattress and proceeds to thrust herself into him passionately. When she gasps to using him, he feels a long-forgotten desire to tame her. Suddenly Gojo experiences his own switch as she continues to bounce herself on him. He breaks an arm free and sends his hand to her throat, squeezing it as he pulls her face down to his. When she bites her lip with arrogant eyes, he understands that she’s hoping he’ll fight back for dominance and whispers into her lips, “I will have you begging me to stop.”.

               Elska grins to the confirmation but all of the sudden finds Satoru is no longer below her. “Try your best, you will not break me.”, she teases in her lowly voice as she recognizes his presence behind her. She hears Gojo say, “Choso, find me something to tie her up with.”. She looks to Choso who seems to not understand why so she smiles, “Do as he says.”. Satoru now wraps a hand around her throat again and pulls her back to where she’s on her knees and feels his erection rubbing against her. She tries to angle herself so she could feel him again but fails. She huffs disapprovingly but is soon met with his grith spreading her, leaving her crying out in lust. He leans down by her ear while he seats himself completely, “Love, is that what you wanted?”, and snickers as he rams her a few times.

               Choso is finding the request made of him to be completely outlandish. ‘She shouldn’t be tied up!’, he now hears Satoru thrusting into her and feels uncomfortable with witnessing it in person. What he cannot ignore though is his own throbbing while he scurries to find anything that can be used for restraints. While searching through the drawers he comes across a scarf and quickly throws it over to Gojo without looking at them. His eyes take to Naoya in the other bed and he frowns to the situation at hand but knows there’s nothing he can really do to stop Elska. It was clear to him that she initiated and wanted to further down this adventure with Satoru. He looks over to them finally and looses his breath as he’s met with her alluring eyes. ‘Does she want me to stay?’, he questions internally hoping he was wrong. “Elska?”, he asks in a small voice, becoming mesmerized with how she’s staring into him.

               Gojo pushes Elska down into the bed and brings her arms to fold neatly behind her back. “Like old times…”, he teases wantonly as he secures the scarf around her forearms and wrists. He nudges her body forward so he can sit on his knees behind her and admires her body as he postures himself over her legs. With his left hand he grabs himself up to rub into her folds, moaning to the visible evidence that he’s going to be able to go wild. He notices Choso run out of the room and chuckles while gliding into her fully, “I guess he didn’t want to watch. Smart move.”, and begins pound into her relentlessly as she moans into the sheets. He grabs her throat again with his right hand to pull her back towards him and says, “That’s right love, you will take this dick and you will fucking like it.”, and slaps her ass with his left. “I am going to conquer you all over again…”, he hisses as he pulls on her waist to make sure there’s not a single inch of him missing out. She cries out, “YES!”, which causes him to tighten his grasp on her throat from the rush it sent through him while he delivers deep thrusts. He whimpers to how she feels contracting around him and takes notice to her body’s response as he continues through her orgasm. “Already, huh?”, the accomplishment fills him with pride and he expresses it by still crashing into her as she falls apart.  After a harsh few minutes, he slows down in an attempt to caress her internally. “Mmmm…”, he hums to how slippery her walls have become as she pants in front of him. “Perhaps my love wants to be controlled?”, he slaps her rear again with his left hand before regaining his grip on her hip. She lowly gasps, “Please try!”, which makes him say, “I am going to destroy you…”. He decides to warp in front of her and watches her body fall into the mattress. He grabs her hair and assists her in lifting her head while tilting his chin to the side and mocking, “The scary little Elska…”, she opens her mouth so he sends himself down her throat, “…gagging on my dick.”. He works his hips into her as expected tears roll down her face. When he removes himself to allow her air, he sighs to her saliva coating her breasts, causing them to glisten every so often. To his surprise she seductively moans and challenges, “Is that all you’ve got?”, which causes him to grunt as he traces her lips with his tip. He replies, “You should know me better than that.”, and proceeds to thrust into her mouth again. When she chokes on him, he throws his head back and furrows his brow while gasping, “My sexy little Elska…”.

               Feeling his grip in her hair as he harshly stretches her throat fills her with exhilaration. There are reasons as to why he is so special to her and this depravity he harbors is one of them since it mirrors a part of her nature. She looks up to him the best she can as her muscles convulse to his motions and loves the dominating way in which he treats her. ‘Nobody has ever been so brave.’, she thinks as she gags. He removes himself from her mouth again but drags his member along her face which makes her whimper with anticipation. He says, “I can’t finish until I’ve opened everything.”, and she shivers to his voice as it was chilling, knowing he’s going to take her in every way he can. He warps behind her again but is maneuvering her to lay on her left side. She tries to adjust in a way that makes her arms more comfortable but he slaps her thigh and says, “Don’t squirm now love, it’s too late for that.”.

               Satoru bends her legs up towards her chest so he could have unobstructed access. Spreading his kneeing stance, he leans over her to grab her throat again while he begins to nudge her second entrance. “You are mine to fuck and so is this ass.”, and groans down to her as he feels himself slowly making progress. He loves how her face morphs into pleasure the deeper he goes and wonders, ‘Has she liked this all along?’, but is soon taken out of thought as she gasps to being further parted. He releases her throat to lean back and stabilize himself with her hip, wanting to watch himself submerge into her. “Look at you love, taking me so well…”, she cries out heatedly and he bites his lip as he backs out to start the process over. He drops some of his own saliva down where they meet and works himself in deeper, becoming completely swallowed by her. “Such a good girl…”, he breathlessly whines as their eyes meet. “…Take it all…”, and begins to set a rhythm. As he increases his force she cries out “YES SATI”, and smiles with parted lips as she’s forced to endure him. He’s watching her skin ripple and wave out from his impact and it nearly makes him come undone having the knowledge that she’s enjoying this. He pulls out of her to take in the sight of her mess and rolls her onto her stomach. After making his way back in, he leans his body to hover over hers while he continues to pound through her.

               Elska is completely under his control but is rather thrilled by how rough he is being. Through her moans she tries to tell him that it’s coming but before she can, the pheromones release into the room. She turns her head and sees Satoru’s face next to hers as he fills his lungs and moans, his motions halting while he does. She hears him say, “You must love it when I fuck you like this…”, and picks up his pace again. While gasping she’s able to say, “I want more!”, and her eyes roll back when gives her exactly that. She can tell by his breathing that he’s nearing his end so she arches her back underneath him as if to present she was ready to be a pretty display. His thrusts after that became full and deep with each stroke until she feels him twitch and begin to settle. He opens her legs to guide her onto her back while remaining inside of her. The look on his face is breathtaking and she can sense his relief as he slowly nudges through her a few more times.

               While holding her ankles and leaning his hips into her, he brings his gaze from her face to where they’re connected and grunts to how pleasing the sight is. He leans down to kiss her feverishly as he comes to terms with his affections for Elska as a whole and says, “I love all sides of you…”, into her lips. He leans back up so he can watch his contents spill from her after he pulls out and moans when it’s even more beautiful than he imagined. Rolling her back onto her stomach he reaches down to undo her binds and finds their lips meeting as soon as she was free.

               She slides her tongue into his mouth passionately and they moan into each other again. When she breaks away she says in her lowly voice, “I don’t have much time left like this but one day I will be whole. Let’s see if you can overpower me then.”, and brushes her thumbs across his cheeks. “I will be a blend of all attributes but I can promise I’ll want more of this.”. Her eyes feel heavy now as she feels her state diminishing, “I will have to sleep again but I will return to normal when I wake. Will you…”, she hesitates, “…will you bring me to sleep next to Naoya?”. She’s taken back by his kind smile as he lifts her up into his arms. They sway as he uses his knees to bring them to the edge of the bed and they nearly fall over as he works to swing his legs out to the floor.

               They laugh together as he awkwardly finds his balance but he feels her sincerity as he walks them over to Naoya. “You can rest easy love and I’ll clean you up…”, he tells her as he lowers her down next to the sleeping Zenin. Her eyes are quickly losing their glow as she lays there and wraps her arms around Naoya’s left one, so he knows she’s going to be out here soon. “Love?”, she brings her hazy gaze to him, “We will find Toji, I swear it’s my priority.”. She smiles and thanks him before saying, “I’m glad to know he’s important to you as well Sati. Please, locate my beloved…he needs me…”. While he was forming his next words she closes her eyes and falls asleep instantaneously. “Love, I will make this world work for you…”, and leans down to kiss her once more. He stands upright again to find something to wash their wonderful experience with. After wiping her down he crawls in the bed and uses the slightest bit of space given to make his own spot, wanting to be next to her. He ponders on what she said earlier about the curse’s will to replace humanity and smiles into her neck, “I don’t much care for humans either…whatever your endgame is, we will succeed.”.

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tagging : @angelofthorr

[fullsuuns]

ghost of you - l.dh

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader

GENRE: angst

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: character death (reader is a ghost in this), mentions of alcohol

NOTE: i am not encouraging anyone to use ouija boards or any other spiritual contacting methods without prior research and knowledge. this is only for fictional purposes.

SYPNOSIS: a year after your death, donghyuck uses an ouija board to communicate with you.

you watched as donghyuck, your exboyfriend, laid crystals on top of the small round wooden table that was placed on the floor of your apartment — or well, his apartment, because you no longer shared this space with him. there were various crystals, each different shapes and colors and each representing different things. you recall the faint memory of when you told him about what each crystal meant, what each one represented.

curiously, you eyes drift over his movements as he sprawls them out in front of him. donghyuck had never been into this kind of thing while the two of you dated, so you’re confused when he organizes them in a circular shape. next to him, jeno drops a black bag of equipment next to his feet before he, too, sits on the ground in favor of pulling out a rectangular board.

you’d seen these types of boards plenty of times during your living life — you’d even warned donghyuck of ouija boards, telling him they weren’t devices to be messed with as they were a viable way of communicating with things that weren’t on the same plain as humans. your eyes are widening now, and you rush to sit across from them, trying to stop donghyuck as your hands fly out before you.

“stop, please! no, no, donghyuck. hyuckie, stop, please.” your pleads are useless because he doesn’t hear you. he doesn’t feel your touch when you place both of your hands atop his in hopes that it would halt his actions. in fact, your palms just go right through him, reminding you that you weren’t a physical being anymore and that you could no longer physically reach him.

the board is placed on the table in front of you, and a panicked energy starts rising. next, the planchette is placed, and donghyuck fixes the crystals so that they frame around the board better. your eyes are wide, alarmed, as they scour his rushed actions. you try to stop his hands, hoping each time that he would finally feel you, feel your touch telling him to stop, because he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

“are you sure you want to do this?” jeno asks. the raven’s tone is worried, hesitant — it’s evident in the way he looks at your boyfriend with attentive eyes. donghyuck nods — sighs.

after your death a year ago, you stuck to hanging around your shared apartment, watching as donghyuck went through several stages of grief before your eyes. he couldn’t see you, couldn’t feel you, but you could see everything he was going through and you knew there was nothing you could do but to watch from the sidelines as he slowly began to heal. it hurt; it hurt so much, even though you could no longer feel emotions — couldn’t feel happiness when you watched him walk through the front door after his daily part-time as a barista at the coffee shop you first met him at, couldn’t feel sadness when you heard him cry himself to sleep some nights, couldn’t feel anger when he would sometimes resort to alcohol to drown his sorrows.

he’s changed over time. he’s still the same donghyuck you fell in love with, but his hair is longer now, no longer brown bangs that lay across his forehead but rather bangs that frame it instead. he still wears the silver necklace you got him for your second anniversary, you can see it as it peeks out from under his shirt. you’ve lost the ability to smell since your death, but you know he still buys and wears the cologne you loved so much on him. things like these are subtle signs of how he hasn’t been able to move on from you. how badly you just wished you could end his pain; tell him that you were here all along, cheering him on when he didn’t have the best days.

“i just want to know it’s her.” he replies. your heart, though it stopped beating a long time ago, metaphorically shatters at his confession.

even with how badly you want to stop them, you know there’s nothing you can do but watch as they both place their fingers on the planchette. donghyuck takes a deep breath to center himself, closing his eyes as his eyelashes fan out against the tops of his cheeks.

you can see his fingers barely brushing against the piece. he speaks, his tone commanding through the otherwise silent apartment complex, “if there is a spirit in our presence, make yourself known. guide us with your answers.”

hesitatingly, you reach your hand out. countless months you’ve spent trying to make donghyuck see that you were here, feel that you were here with him. you’ve done things from leaving the previously-shut cabinet doors open for him to see in the morning to spraying a bit of your old perfume that he still kept on his dresser; small and simple actions like that oftentimes left your energy drained, so they were things you could never do too often.

now, you were finally being given the opportunity to communicate with him openly, and you’d have to be dumb to deny something like this — even if living you would have smacked him for bringing this thing out in the first place.

you place your fingers on the planchette, very slowly but surely guiding it to the sun at the top of the board. because he hadn’t asked a yes or no question, this was the only answer you could give him right now.

he looks at jeno from the corner of his eye. “are you moving it?” he asks him. the question almost makes you want to smirk, simply because you knew your boyfriend had always been a skeptic. you’d told him countless times during your relationship that there were beings beyond the human realm — and donghyuck would only nod distractedly, laughing when you smacked him for not listening. the memory makes a smile tug at your lips. of course he was still the same.

jeno shakes his head, and donghyuck lets out an unsteady breath before he asks his next question. “are you a good spirit or bad spirit?”

you almost want to scold donghyuck for not asking simple questions. this wasn’t an question you could answer with a yes or no, so you slowly circle the planchette until it comes back around towards the sun. sun meant favorable.

donghyuck looks towards jeno for a moment. though their fingers never leave the planchette, you can see the two stare at each other for a moment before their gazes settle back on the board. this time, jeno asks a question.

“can you spell out your name?”

the planchette moves again. it takes more power, but you manage to move the singular piece to spell out your name in its entirety. they don’t seem to mind the incredibly slow speed as they repeat each letter back to themselves.

“y/n.” your boyfriend repeats once you spell it out. his voice is soft as he speaks, “i knew it was you, baby. are...are you okay? are you safe?”

you would have giggled at his words had you missed the way his eyes started to well up. he’s leaning forward now, more intrigued as he awaits your answer. jeno is silent next to him, but you’re grateful they’re doing this together. there could’ve been an instance that it wouldn’t actually be you in front of them right now, but rather a different kind of spirit.

your energy has slowly decreased now — you can feel it begin to wither as you start feeling heavier. still, you move the piece towards yes.

“okay, okay. i’m glad you’re safe, baby.” his voice sounds relieved, more of a happy whisper towards himself.

before he asks another question, you move the planchette with the little energy you have left. their eyes drink in the movement attentively as you brush the piece across the board towards several different letters. once again, they repeat them aloud. tired.

“oh, you’re tired. okay, that’s fine, y/n. we can talk later if you’d li-” you cut him off with the planchette just before he can end your session. your movements are more hurried now, desperation in every sweep as you realize you have to abbreviate your words for the sake of your being. they once again read each letter in unison. ily. imy.

he looks worried, voice mirroring his expression as he speaks, “i - i miss you too, y/n, and i love you. we can talk another time, i promise. i’ll end this now, for your sake - but i love you.” the idea that he’s worried for you makes you smile sadly, even if you feel no emotion behind it. with struggle, you push the planchette towards goodbye, officially ending your session.

you take your fingers off the piece and instantly, the energy that you’d drained quickly seeps back into you. you watch as jeno flips the board over. donghyuck gathers the crystals in his hands, handing them over to jeno so he can place them back into his bag.

they’re silent for a moment. a single tear runs down donghyuck’s cheek as he bites his lip, and you want nothing more than to wipe it away and reassure him that you’re still here. still here with him, even if he can’t see you.

jeno’s voice is cautious, “are you okay?”

donghyuck collects himself at the question, wiping at his cheek as he smiles down tearily at the now flipped board. he lets out a wet laugh. “i - yeah. yeah, i’m okay. i’m just - i’m just glad she’s okay.”

[kirstinmaldonado]

CHAPTER TEN 2.0

I had a horrible migraine Monday night. It was one of those that you feel after holding back tears all day, or letting it out all day, it was centered right in-between the eyes on the upper bridge of my nose. My eyes sweltered under discomfort. The icepacks or a cool touch to the head, something my mom would always do (she always has cold hands), couldn’t even console me. I didn’t feel feverish at all, but the pain was sharp and pulsating like a nervous heartbeat, over and over, until I couldn’t concentrate on TV or anything anymore I just had to go to bed and hope I could fall asleep. 

I rarely get those kinds of headaches, that placement and severity. I’m usually fortunate to pass with dull, achey, temple headaches; and even my hangovers are never so pointed and jab-like.

My mom on the other hand, has dealt with migraines for years. I remember her pain as a kid, waking up in the morning wondering where she was, only to find her in the dark in her room, barely able to speak sometimes. I was always so sad to see her in such anguish, all alone in the dark. Silent. Still. While her head throbbed as if a brass band was playing “The Music Man” at too loud a decibel.

We watched a lot of horror films, my mom and I. In contrast to all the Disney films, I grew up on Jeepers Creepers, Scream, Final Destination and all the Freddy, Jason, true horror classics (yes, and all seven billion of their sequels). When she would be in bed, in the dark, we’d joke that she was a vampire needing her rest and that she needed to stay in the dark unbothered, and that lightheartedness to the situation made us smile and contented us.

Monday, Ben asked if migraines ran in my family, and though I told him about my mother’s constant battle with them the last couple years I was hoping mine felt more situational as opposed to genetic. Fingers crossed on that, and kudos to mom and those who get migraines for sticking it out cause they can be a big B-I-T-C-H.

I say situational, because it’s been A WEEK to say the least, with big things and confrontations happening in the public eye and in my own private life. The last two weeks have been incredibly eye-opening, painful, uncomfortable, moving, you name it. An entire rainbow of emotions (Happy Pride, by the way, cuties, I haven’t forgotten about you all).

I feel as if I’ve transformed into a new person with big, wide, new eyes, shedding some old skin that felt a little naive and a little out of touch with how the world, not should work, but how it’s REALLY been working. I’ve been talking to my black friends and fans, talking to my Hispanic family and hearing their stories, and talking amongst my friends and respected mentors. I’ve been doing some soul-searching and digging through memories of my own cop experiences (one, for example, at 17 with two white males [we were pulled over and eventually surrounded by 4 armed cop cars that got us out of the car, surrounded us, and wouldn’t tell us why] and wondering but knowing how that situation could have been if they were black), my jokes of being white-washed or assimilating in to white culture and not focusing on my own, and me coloring my hair blonde and wearing colored contacts not MY brown eyes for so much of my life and wondering what the intention of it all was for. Was it genuine or was I doing it to fit in, did I think it made me prettier, or more likable? Did I think or know that it would get me roles, because many ingenues or leading ladies at the time didn’t look like me?

At a point, at multiple points, all the things I’d uncover or watch in recent news had my stomach hard and in knots. Every new clip made me feel like I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t stop now that I had SEEN.

I was confused. Hurt. Believing what I’d seen, but needing other facts as if I was missing something completely because it all did not make sense to me. How COULD it?

I apologize for all the reposts and rants, but I hope it’s stayed in line with being something you should SEE, regardless of if its uncomfortable or not, so that you KNOW what is happening, while also trying to call action to addressing the issue but moving FORWARD towards a solution. I don’t want violence on my page. But now it’s hard to turn a blind eye.

The organized BLM LA protest on May 30th changed my life. After the speeches, we wanted to continue marching, moving, using our freedom of speech and combining our white, brown, black, and all colors in-between of voices so that we could be ONE VOICE UNITED to be HEARD. 

I don’t think I went to the front lines because I was white-passing and felt safer, or because I was a woman so could be “less a threat.” I went because my black allies, who I didn’t even know, asked us to because the front was starting to get unnecessarily violent. I went because I had done nothing wrong and planned on doing nothing wrong. I went, in a way, to be an innocent. Because if I was in the front with no bad intention, the people beside and behind me would be okay.

As we walked through the crowds, their hands on my shoulders, their thanks, flared something visceral deep inside of me and I knew I was here to protect and mediate, and in a way, fighting against hate in whatever form as if I was a newborn Avenger. Someone cried out “I love this, this is what this movement is for!” and that has stayed with me as so many lighter-skinned protesters made their way to the front. Because that IS what this is for. Not to divide, but to unite to fight for justice against those that have unnecessarily been wronged.

I’ll never forget one black man that my friends and I urged to stay back beside us in the lines that had pushed to the front. He was angry. Upset. Hurt. Defiled. I’d never understood the pain the black community felt. But as we tried to reassure him, block him from the batons (from THAT COP), bring him back to the safety of the group, when I was hit in the ribs and the face as collateral because he would have been hit so much worse, the last thing he said as we pulled him back was “I want them to hear me.” And suddenly I felt holding him and consoling him was wrong, like I was a part of stealing his voice from him even though all I wanted was to keep him safe. Suddenly I felt so upset, so angry; although, of course, I’ll never even know HALF of that feeling as a non-black person who, to my knowledge, has never been treated differently for their identity.

I’ll never forget the way he said it. With so much hurt and pain, the anger fading in to just pure anguish and loss.

I felt like I’d silenced someone, so all I could do was get back to the front. It was my turn to be silent and let their voices carry behind me.

I’m sure you’ve seen the video going around, the stillness before the cops were ordered presumably to push the line back. While I can have a whole blog post of levels and steps they could have taken before the cop bashed through my canvas sign with his baton, you can look at the video and see for yourself. People getting hit because they were at the front, with no provocation. The man striking me with a baton, honestly probably because I had said openly to watch out for him, because he was showing a LOT of premature violence, because of how quickly he went after the man we were protecting; yet then only pushing the white girl next to me with his hand, even though she unfortunately was struck multiple times from another officer.

All awful!! All taken a step too far. I’ve never been more in shock. Ben was trying to pull me off the floor so I wouldn’t get stepped on. Our friends were hit by rubber bullets. Our other friends on another street running from tear gas.

The tear gas, the rubber bullets, the bruises and the ache have *I PRAY* started to leave Los Angeles as all the protests have started to become more peaceful and more organized. Since, I’ve been to three and they were all just, beautiful, and moving, each one getting better and bigger as the week went on. I carry a sense of pride and love seeing the aerial footage of all the people Sunday, and I think back to what my May 30 experience was compared to June 7th. I heard it was the largest protest yet. And while I felt like a sardine in a can, it was so packed, it was beautiful and it’s a memory I’ll hold forever!

I sidebar to say, I may no longer be cheering at the literal protesting frontlines with you for a while  — I must return to Texas soon for family so must safely quarantine  —  but know the fight for equality, for justice has not ended just because it’s not trending anymore! I think I’m gonna have to shackle myself to my house so I won’t leave, haha, but know there is so much you can be doing from your home! As my grandma said, after the protests which are the catalysts and the calls for change the REAL reformative work begins!! And the road is long! 

The most important thing, in my humble opinion, is to show up. To not be afraid. To ask the questions. To educate yourself through your friends with their experiences or through history.

Humbly, you must think, but what even can I do to help?

Showing up isn’t JUST protesting. It’s signing petitions. Donating to charities. It’s calling local reps. It’s doing the research and thinking, what can I do to lend my voice to help create a better world for all and doing it authentically if even imperfectly because deep down you also want to right these injustices and demand change! Do it in public. Do it in private. But do it because you believe in it!

I know everything feels a bit dark and overwhelming right now! The amount of times I’ve needed a “break” and then wanted to cry because my black friends and fans don’t get the opportunity to take “breaks” is countless. But your mental health is important for you to be the strongest ally you can be!

And if you’re afraid of backlash, understand that many are hurt. I know many feel nervous to speak up in a damned if I do, damned if I don’t kind of way. But EACH of your voices are, and have always been so, so important. And each and every one of you have an important say and CHOICE/VOTE in to where we lead our country!

Someone told me this week that although sunflowers follow the sun, when it is cloudy and dark, they turn to face each other and share their energy!

I don’t know if that’s a million percent scientifically accurate, but the sentiment brought me to tears. In times of darkness, we should all be able to lean on each other for support.

We can all be sunflowers in the dark. <3

Love you all.

[imma-talk-back]

Yesterday, I was called a Nigger.  Within mere minutes of being in my favorite store, it happened.  Without warning, a gentleman bisected my path and seemingly reflexively blurted it out.  It was if the word had a life of its own and was pushing forth from his mouth at a full sprint. I say this not to emphasize the innocence of the man, but to shed light on the immense power of that word. 

Yeah... I thought that’d get your attention. 

Frankly, I’ve always been one to prefer Target to Walmart.  I appreciate the structure and organization of the store, and though I am a person who thrives in areas of “organized chaos”, I’m afraid, I find Walmart to be a little too chaotic for my liking.  As someone who suffers from The Big Bad Beast that is Anxiety, I experience a visceral uneasiness in certain environments, but generally speaking Target is one of few places I nearly always feel safe in.  There are of course the antsy customers who brush past me on occasion or ride my tail too closely in the checkout, but for the most part, to me, Target represents the epitome of comfortable shopping experiences.  It’s almost as if the structure demands it’s patrons to be on their best behavior.  Unfortunately, not everyone heed these demands... 

Please allow me to begin by laying the ground work; let me explain just how much effort I put into a simple trip to the market.  You see, one of the many awful things about this lovely condition that is Anxiety is that it has the potential to make even the most mundane tasks feel insurmountable.  A quick errand run the average person puts little thought into, can for someone like me, be a delicate tightrope walk; from the moment I leave the safety of my car and began my trek though the aimless herds of self-focused patrons, to the exact position of my body in accordance to yours, while in line.  I see you in a straight line, but I take several steps to the right or left, creating a meticulously crafted triangle between you and the person in front of me; all with the intention to grant me just a bit more security.  You see, I’ve been socially distancing since before COVID made it cool.  

Well, it’s about time I get to the point, isn’t it?  So, here goes...

So here I am.. and on top of dealing with my typical feelings of sporadic and unannounced paralyzing panic that may rise at any moment during my routine errand, whilst in the midst of none other than The Zombie Apocalypse that is 2020, I am the victim of an unprovoked physical attack in on of my few “safe” public spaces.  Notice, I consider this a physical attack, because of slew of negative bio-mechanical implications it presented me with, after all the word Nigger cannot be compared to that of Bitch, or Asshole. No, when spat with the right amount of hatred, the word surge through your veins like a poison. 

Thus, I instinctively stopped dead in my tracks and felt the heat of pain and rage radiate through my body.  I shook my head, dropped my gaze, and took several steps forward before stopping.  Rather than metaphorically quietly quivering in the corner, I decided to act. 

I turned around, sought out an employee, mustered up all the poise I could find, and collectedly said something along the lines of: “Hi, I just walked into the store, and within moments upon entering, a gentleman wearing a white blazer called me a Nigger.  I would very much like for him to be escorted out of the store”.  It was important that I used the full word to convey the level of discomfort I felt in having it thrown at me.  Perhaps that did the trick because the woman responded with a look of genuine shock, without hesitation confirmed the direction the man was walking towards, and urgently called for security. I said my peace and entrusted my safety in the store to the woman’s follow-through.  

It wasn’t the first time and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. I tried my best to continue on my journey as if he “hadn’t gotten to me”, but he had, I rush through the store, in search of whatever had prompted me to enter.  I can’t for the life of me remember, I imagine because I moved through the store in what can only be likened to a fear-induced haze.  I walked through the isles wondering if the gentleman would return and found myself looking at every Black passer-by, wondering if they had, or would soon experience the same. 

I power walked through the store with a combination of sorrow, profound fear, inexplicable anger, and incredible gratitude.  It instantly pained my heart to hear that a complete stranger could have so much hate in their’s for me, it still does.   Although I don’t imagine the N-word is typically equated with fear for non-Black people, for someone like me, it can be terrifying.  Despite the ever-so-obvious gravitas of that word, I know it hardly represents the tip of the iceberg of the hatred that lies below the surface.  As such, I feared retaliation from the moment I reported the gentleman, throughout the store, to my stop at the gym where I went through my daily workout routine, to the moment I drove home, parked my car, and double-checked the locks to all the doors at my house.  

Though this wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced this sort of overt display of hatred in a public setting, it was without a doubt, the first time I have ever felt seen enough to report it.  The death of George Floyd exposed just how serious the issue of racial injustice in this country is, and made it unmistakably clear just how prevalent, not to mention perilous it is.  After 34 years of just taking it, and doing everything in my power to “not let it get to me” or knowing “it’s just the way it is”, I finally feel seen enough to say; look this just happened, and you have the power to make it so this isn’t just how it is. 

You see prior to May 25, 2020, we could all live with a degree of ignorance in the matter; you could deny my life was actually different because of my skin tone and I could feign my perception of equality, but that shield has been lifted.  We have awakened from our socio-normative unconsciousness... That was deep, I know, but rather or not we choose to stay woke is up to us. The US needs a reckoning, regardless of if recent demands for equality stemming from the death of Mr. Floyd, Ms. Taylor, and Mr. Arbery can transition this moment into a movement, I am here to remind you of its importance.  You see, I was Black before you ever heard of those names and will continue to be such even when they began to fade from your memory.  I am here to remind you just how vital that demand for equality is.  

The fact of the matter is that the woman who essentially “came to my rescue” by respecting the seriousness of the matter was in shock not only the verbal brutality spewed, but also in part I imagine from simply awakening the reality that such an incident actually happened.  This brings me to my anger... you see I am beyond grateful for the fact that I can finally stand up for myself and declare something like this has happened and be taken seriously, but I am equally as enraged that in order to be taken as such, the entire world had to witness a man be crushed to death.  It goes without saying that, the level of enlightenment that the entire non POC (people of color) world is having right now is just as appreciated as it is enraging. 

On a final note, I want to draw your attention to the fact that I referred to the man who accosted me, as a gentleman.  There is certainly two contributing factors to consider in this; one I was simply raised right- with manners and respect for everyone, and I knew this man couldn’t have been in his right mind, and two, I knew the importance of remaining composed in even the most daring of times, to counter the very real likelihood of simply being written off as an Angry Black Woman.  Think about that... even in an assault, I must maintain my composure, because society says an emotional Black woman is an Angry Black woman, society doesn’t question her countless motives for said anger; no, it merely writes her off.  

Well... let this first blog entry be a testament to my Eloquent Black Rage--sitting posed, with perfect posture, well read, well spoken, highly educated in fact... with well manicured fingernails and an accented middle finger nodding to a less than subtle, “fuck you”. 

In close, I hope in writing this I have helped to explain the depth of feelings that stem from such a verbal attack, the long term impact it has, and that I have drawn your attention to just how often injustice occurs even when they are not spoken of or otherwise exposed. 

This is my very first Blog-entry, it originally started out as a wordy Facebook post, but decided I needed a more appropriate venue for my voice.  I sincerely thank you for reading and hope you continue to peek into my mind from time to time.  Congratulations, you’ve earned 10 Friend Points and good karma! 

[hardlyfatal]

gary’s writing workshop: lesson 4: showing vs. telling

The main way a writer tells, rather than shows, is when they inform the reader that the narrator is experiencing an emotion or sensing something instead of describing it; or they describe it, but with mundane and bland words that communicate how the character feels without without any effective emotional impact.

Everything we perceive is sensed somehow; that’s how organisms acquire information. Our primary sense is vision, then hearing, then touch. Smell and taste are not so often the bearers of important information, but but when they are, they can have an enormous impact.

And most of the things we perceive spark an emotion of some sort. Humans are very binary creatures; we tend to define things as present vs. absent. If we like something, we want it all the time, and its presence feels good and its absence  feels bad. If we dislike something, we don’t want it, ever, and its presence makes us feel bad, and its absence good.

I know this seems elementary, but stick with me.

Within the umbrella terms of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ are myriad terms you can use to elaborate. The awesomest thing about the English language that, since it’s basically half-a-dozen other languages stacked under a raincoat trying to pass themselves off as a single cohesive tongue, we have multiple vocabularies from which to pick an incredibly precise word or phrase in describing what we mean. Germanic, Latinate, Greek, even Norse-- all have contributed a fantastic array of adjectives and adjectival phrases so if exactly what we mean cannot be found in one, there’s a good chance we can find it in one of the others.

With this at our fingertips, why are people not punching up their narrative and bringing their stories to life, to make their prose spring into our mind’s eye? Why are so many stories delivered with so little hint to how things feel to the characters? Because writers simply haven’t been taught how.

The way to make an impact, to bring the reader along with the character, is to describe how the sense, and the emotion attached to it, manifests in the character.

This issue is another Battle of the Balance, because if you show every emotion instead of telling them, you’ll have an endless mess of a story describing people with each nerve ending a-quiver the entire time. That’s exhausting, and will drive away readers. Heck, you’ll drive yourself away – it’s just too laborious.

But by the same token, you need to bring the reader along with the characters as they bumble their way through life, seething with all the messy emotions and feelings inherent in simply existing. If you skimp on this, you will miss opportunities to connect the reader to the characters, to make the reader care about what happens. If you don’t use words that emotionally affect the reader, they’re left feeling like they’re reading a police report instead of a fictional narrative. We don’t want just the facts, ma’am. We want to experience it along with the characters.

So how do you achieve this balance? It’s very situation-dependent.

When to do it:

You have to train yourself to understand and see when a moment – not necessarily an entire scene – will be an emotional one. Just walking into a room isn’t emotional… unless the room is particularly shabby or grand in a way that evokes emotion in the character, or perhaps someone inside the room is a pleasant (or unpleasant) surprise to them. Discoveries, which are often plot points and thus important, are moments that might elicit emotion in the narrative character, and thus could benefit from some showing.

I’m sure you know this already, and take care to include descriptions where pertinent and needed. But are you showing these moments, or are you telling them?

When you describe how something looks, don’t just say it’s lovely; how is it lovely?

From Desperado, the moment Brienne sees Jaime through the jailhouse window:

Then a face appeared on the other side of the glass, and Brienne reeled back with a little scream before she recognized it: those piercing green eyes, that granite-hewn jaw, those sculpted lips, the busted nose that kept him handsome instead of edging into prettiness…

And when Brienne looks at him, does she just flatly recognize he’s handsome, or does his handsomeness elicit some emotional or physical reaction in her?

Brienne took another step back; it was unsafe to be too close to him, for reasons of propriety and sanity and possibly a few other things she hadn’t words for.

“Don’t go,” he said, barely audible through the glass. “Stay and talk to me. It’s so dull in here.”

And then he smiled at her, and Brienne’s heart seized in her chest.

What is shown by the second snippet’s content is particularly important to the purpose of our discussion today. When people are emotional, whether in a positive or negative way, they experience physiological changes. Angry people often narrow their eyes and clench their fists; nervous people might have restless energy or dry mouths and throats.

When an emotionally-fraught moment comes up in your story – indeed, every time a character feels an emotion – go through the five senses. What physical sensation does the emotion cause in their body? What does it look like outwardly? How does it sound and feel? Sometimes even taste and smell can come into it, depending on the emotion.

Here’s the main thing to remember: to show instead of tell, you need to keep a baseline awareness of senses and sensory input going at all times. Whenever a character feels something, think about the situation. Will showing bring a visceral understanding of the moment to the reader? Or will it bog down the narrative because it’s just not that important?

How to do it:

1. Word choice. Have your thesaurus (or thesaurus.com) handy at all times, and instead of the mundane word or phrase you might have chosen, pick a synonym that means basically the same thing, but evokes more of a sensory experience or gives more of a hint of what the person is thinking. In the passage below, where I’ve punched up basically the same thing with more evocative language, I’ve indented instances.

Note: sometimes this means replacing a single word with a phrase, instead. But this not only results in a higher word count – usually a good thing – but often in more elaborate syntax and punctuation, so make sure your line editing/betaing is on point when you do it, to avoid errors. If you have an uncertain grasp of grammar and punctuation, and you don’t have access to a good editor, maybe just stick to straight substitution, word-for-word, instead of expanding from the single adjective to an adjectival phrase, etc.

2. Formatting. With punctuation, emphasis (italics, etc.), paragraph breaks, and pauses, the way you present the words can punch up the emotion and show what’s happening, rather than merely telling. This can be especially effective in dialogue, to indicate pauses as the speaker gathers their thoughts, or stumbles over their words, stammers with nervousness, pauses for impact.

3. Elaboration. Don’t be so concise all the time! Expand on concepts, pinpoint what it is about a situation that’s making the character feel as they do. Give us motivation, contemplation, snippets of history that lead the person to choices and actions and things they say.

Example

Below are two versions of the scene from Desperado where Brienne saves Jaime from hanging by marrying him. It’s not the entire scene, just the pivotal moment where she announces her intention to marry one of the men. The first version is what I published, a version that ‘shows’ what’s happening for peak effectiveness. In the second version, I revised it to ‘tell’ instead.

Note how, in the ‘showing’ version, the word choices make it more visceral, the elaboration spends more time on the emotions Brienne is feeling as well as providing insight to her personality and values and even providing a bit of her history, and the formatting enhances the knowledge that she’s agitated and nervous and struggling.

Original ‘Showing’ Version (word count: 860)

It was time. She had to speak.

It was time.

Now, Brienne.

Now. Now!

“N-no!” she made herself shout. “I invoke the rule of court that commutes a man’s sentence if a woman marries him.”

Judge Baelish’s face contorted in frustration. “What rule of court is this?” he demanded.

Sickeningly aware that the eye of every person in the room was on her, easily hearing the excited whispers coming from all around, Brienne strode forward. She shouldered aside the crowd and thrust the paper in the judge’s face. Baelish snatched it from her hand, his pale eyes darting over it, and a slow flush started at his collar, spreading upward until his entire face was an angry red.

“If you want to see the law book, I’m sure we can… find it and bring it to you,” Brienne told him.

She looked back over the crowd for Sam Tarly. He was there, halfway to the back, bouncing on tiptoes to see over taller persons in front of him, and when he heard her, he waved his arms and shouted, “Yes! I’ve got it!”

“Bring it,” Judge Baelish commanded.

Sam bustled forward and held it out; Sheriff Clegane took it and slapped it onto the judge’s outstretched palm. Baelish opened it to where a slip of paper marked the page, and ran a fingertip down the page until he found the pertinent section. His eyes narrowed as he read, more and more until they were hardly open at all.

Then he lifted his head and shut the book in quick, jerky movements before handing it back to Clegane. Sam took the book back and receded into the crowd.

“Very well. Miss—” he began, his voice glacial.

“Tarth. Brienne Tarth.”

“—Miss Tarth, which of these gentlemen will be your new husband?”

Brienne’s breath sawed in and out of her chest, her lungs heaving so hard they ached. How could she do this?

She thought of who would be left behind, devastated, vulnerable, if he died. Their suffering would be on her conscience for the rest of her life.

How could she not?

She croaked a name, but it was incomprehensible. She licked her lips, swallowed. It didn’t help. She sucked in more air and tried again, louder.

“Jaime Lannister.”

The man in question had hung his head when convicted, not expecting anything but a march to the noose, the very image of dejection. His head snapped up, now, and the dead expression faded from his eyes, replaced by a wild hope. Brienne could only meet his gaze for a second before she flinched away from the force of it.

Behind her, the ballroom had gone absolutely silent for a few seconds that felt like hours. Then, in a rush, everyone started speaking at once. Brienne was sure she could hear Sansa’s voice exclaiming her name.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Jon, her eyes filling with tears. She was the worst friend in the world, the worst person, a liar and a schemer. She didn’t deserve his comprehension, or his forgiveness, but she couldn’t keep from speaking, from trying, anyway. “I’m so sorry, Jon. But his children… they don’t have anyone else. They don’t have anyone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

His eyes were wide, shocked. There had been confusion on his face at first, but it settled into resignation and a sort of exhausted acceptance.

“I understand,” he said wearily. “I don’t blame you.”

Sheriff Clegane unlocked Jaime’s handcuffs. Jaime rubbed his wrists almost absently; his focus was on Brienne, his sharp green eyes not moving from her for a second. She felt profoundly uncomfortable to be the recipient of such attention, but she couldn’t look away, and she couldn’t stop crying.

“Dry your tears, Miss Tarth,” said the judge in his oily tone. “It’s your wedding day.”

Brienne clamped her eyes shut and took a few deep breaths, reaching inward for the fortitude which had gotten her through losing her mother and Galladon, which had kept her going when they’d had that bad year a while back and thought they’d have to sell the ranch. She had lived through all of that. She’d live through this, too.

When she opened her eyes, they were dry. Her face was hot, and she knew she was still flushed from crying and likely uglier than she’d ever been in her life. It felt like she should be even more ugly, now, her act of treachery in choosing Jaime instead of Jon showing as a physical mark, a scarlet letter like in that book she’d once read, branded on her cheek to warn others away from her perfidy.

“I’m ready,” she said, her voice flat. An unnatural calm had fallen over her. She’d made her choice; now she had to live with it. A brush against her sleeve alerted her that her betrothed had stepped up beside her. She glanced at him, noting that he was very nearly her match in height. That was something, she supposed.

He opened his mouth to speak.

“Later,” she said. “Let’s… just get this over with.”

He blinked, then nodded. Brienne turned to face forward.

And married him.

Revised ‘Telling’ Version (word count: 550)

Brienne was scared and hesitant to speak, but she made herself do it.

“No!” she shouted. “I invoke the rule of court that commutes a man’s sentence if a woman marries him.”

Judge Baelish looked angry. “What rule of court is this?” he demanded.

Knowing that the eye of every person in the room was on her, hearing the whispers coming from all around, Brienne pushed through the crowd and handed the paper to the judge. Baelish looked it over and turned red in fury.

“If you want to see the law book, I’m sure we can find it and bring it to you,” Brienne told him.

She looked back over the crowd for Sam Tarly. When he heard her, he waved his arms and shouted, “Yes! I’ve got it!”

“Bring it,” Judge Baelish commanded.

Sam came forward and held it out; Sheriff Clegane took it and gave it to the judge. Baelish opened it to where a slip of paper marked the page, reading the pertinent section with narrowed eyes.

Then he slammed the book shut and handed it back to Clegane. Sam took the book and stepped back.

“Very well. Miss—” he began in a cold tone.

“Tarth. Brienne Tarth.”

“—Miss Tarth, which of these gentlemen will be your new husband?”

Brienne felt like she couldn’t breathe. How could she do this?

She thought of who would be left behind if he died. Their suffering would be on her conscience for the rest of her life.

How could she not?

She said a name, but it was incomprehensible. She took a deep breath and tried again.

“Jaime Lannister.”

The man in question had hung his head when convicted, not expecting anything but execution. His head came up, now, and he looked very hopeful. Brienne could only manage to look at him for a moment.

Behind her, the ballroom had gone quiet. Then everyone started speaking at once. Brienne was sure she could hear Sansa’s voice calling her name.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Jon, starting to cry. She felt like a terrible person. She didn’t deserve anything from him but she tried anyway. “I’m so sorry, Jon. But his children don’t have anyone else. I’m sorry.”

He looked shocked. There had been confusion on his face at first, but then it turned to tired acceptance.

“I understand,” he said, seeming tired. “I don’t blame you.”

Sheriff Clegane unlocked Jaime’s handcuffs. Jaime rubbed his wrists while staring at Brienne. She felt strange to have him watch her like that, but she couldn’t look away, and she couldn’t stop crying.

“Dry your tears, Miss Tarth,” said the judge. “It’s your wedding day.”

Brienne closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. She’d been through a lot in the past few years. She’d live through this, too.

She soon opened her eyes again.

“I’m ready,” she said calmly. She’d made her choice; now she had to live with it. Jaime came to stand at her side and she noticed they were almost the same height. At least they had that in common.

He opened his mouth to speak.

“Later,” she said. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He nodded, and Brienne turned to face forward.

And married him.

Homework

Take the most emotional moment you’ve ever written and evaluate it for showing vs. telling. Do a side-by-side revision of it, as I did above, marking either where you’ve done well in showing or where you’ve done poorly by telling. Where you’ve done poorly by telling, revise what you have to improve it according to the three methods: better word choice, formatting, and elaboration.

© 2019 to me

[kallura-icedcoffee]

Kallura olympics?

They’ve performed this routine a million times in practice,enough to where both knew it like the back of their hands, enough that everytouch and movement felt routine, natural, almost robotic in its consistency.

And yet this time it feels entirely different.

And not just because this is what they’d both been workingtoward for four years with their blood sweat and tears, with a literal medaland their reputation on the line, but because…

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, or the built up emotion ofgetting to this point together, or the emotion of something else, but as theybring the performance to a close and Allura is in Keith’s arms, his warm breathwarming her lips, her heart is racing, pounding so loudly in her chest she canno longer hear the accompanying song taper off or the roar of applause. All shecan hear is the organ drumming inside her and all she can see is his violeteyes and all she can feel is softness as her thumb grazes his bottom lip as shecups his face as part of their ending pose.

In that moment, as they stare at each other, something haschanged significantly.

It shakes Allura so much everything else is a blur. Shebarely remembers pulling away and waiving to the crowd, gliding off the icehand in hand. She spaces out, crinkling the plastic wrapped bouquet in herhands as their score pops up on the screen one by one: 9.57, 9.82, 9.79…

She’s still holding his hand and she can feel him squeeze asthe scores continue, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into her skin.

There’s more thunderous ovation and next thing she knowsKeith is yanking her to her feet into a hug. She sinks into him, deeplyinhaling the scent of his sweat mixed with cologne. She doesn’t want to let go.Now the tears are coming, dripping down on the beading on the shoulder of hiscostume.

“We did it” he whispers in her ear as his hands meet thesmall of her back in an embrace. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Of us” she corrects gently.

“You did all the work,” he jokes, rocking her back and forthslightly, “I just lift and catch you when need be.”

She can hear the smile in his voice.

Later in the evening the hotel bar is so packed it spillsout into the lobby. Everyone is celebrating whether it’s an actual victory orjust the accomplishment of qualifying and competing at such a prestigiousevent. Keith knows if he makes eye contact with Lance one more time he’ll becoerced into taking another shot of whiskey and he’d like to actually rememberwhat this night feels like so he dips out through the crowd into the crisp snowynight air, but not before snagging two flutes of champagne.

“You are an incredibly hard woman to find when you wanna be”Keith states as he approaches Allura sitting outside on a log bench.

“And yet you find me every time.” She smiles as she removesa hand from her red puffer jacket and takes the glass from him.

He sits right beside her, so close their shoulders touch,despite the bench being quite lengthy.

“Cheers Miss Olympic Gold Medalist.”

“Cheers Mr. Olympic Gold Medalist.”

They clink glasses and sip, smacking their lips equally loudwhich results in giggles.

“I still can’t believe we did it.” Allura sighs, her warmbreath curling into the air.

“Yeah…it’s…skating out there with you today was amazing.” Heturns and looks at her.

Allura knows he’s eyeing her and she avoids his gaze, herstomach bubbling. She glances toward the hotel. They’re just far enough away togrant some privacy and yet she’s nervous someone will come out and see them anymoment.

“Lu…” Keith starts in again. “Did it, did it feel differentthis time?”

Oh she hates the way he reads her mind, how in sync he canbe with her thoughts and feelings which she shouldn’t be surprised by asthey’ve been partners for such a long time now.

“You felt that too huh?” She tries to dismiss it with aplayful chuckle.

“Yeah” he mutters and lets his free hand rest on top ofhers, fingers tangling, intertwining. “I liked it though” he adds after a longpause.

Allura turns her head to face him, trying her best to curbthe smile creeping on her face. Keith smirks back and quickly gulps down theremaining champagne in his glass for a little liquid courage before placing itbeside him and returning to cradle the side her jaw in his hand.

“This is going to drastically change our workingrelationship” Allura blurts out suddenly as he’s inches from her face.

“Probably.”

“People are going to talk” she cut in once more as he closedthe distance.

“Let em’” he whispers against her mouth.

“But what if-”

“Lu will you please shut up so I can kiss you?”

Allura lets out a surprise squeak before pushing air fromher nostrils. She knows she’s being silly and overly cautious. If she can trusthim out on the ice, she certainly can trust him with this. She nods and hereyes flutter closed as he leans in, the medals around their necks clinking asthey come together.

[ss-roleplays]

ALL PIECED TOGETHER WEREWOLF INFO

(Basically anything and everything for anything except specific worlds)

• A bitten werewolf's human form eyes hardly change from birth ones. A natural Born's wolf form eyes glow in their human form's eye color and usually a Bitten's wolf form eyes glow Gold. Entire eyes are the glow color, but the sclera is lighter than the iris and the pupil is darker than the iris.

• Born werewolves are naturally more Family people than typical humans. Bitten don’t change their personality much.

• Silver does hurt the bitten werewolves, but not the Natural born. It's not a sudden super painful burn either, it's like holding your hand over a flame; the longer it is there, the hotter and painfuller it is. For all werewolves, Silver is unbreakable instantly. It's like trying to break a cement brick, you can but it's incredibly hard.

• All werewolf kids ages 1 month-4 years change based off emotions, boredom and random. After that they have more control and such.

• Werewolf gene is dominant, that's why is hard to be born with it.

• ALL werewolves have a ingrained self-defense mechanism where if a werewolf's brain thinks it is in danger needing less human thinking, it will shut down ~40% of logical reasoning depending and activate 50% of the wolf's brain depending. Enough logic to fight smartly, but less enough to fight with senses(like smell, hearing, etc). The Flight or Fight response but much stronger. Call it ‘Panic Mode’.

• Repeat after me; WEREWOLF TRANSFORMATIONS AFTER THE FIRST ARE NOT SUPER PAINFUL REGARDLESS OF HOW THEY BECOME ONE!

• This is because of a chemical the brain releases that are similar to ones released during an adrenaline rush. (The ones that make pain not there to protect the person.)

• (Lest you say otherwise because heck the drama is so fun.)

• The wolf brain is not savage as a 'Hollywood werewolf' is. It's like a real wolf, and it knows its strengths and weaknesses. Even if the wolf brain is 100% active, it still will not fight everything suddenly because 'defence'. Sometimes it's fully activated so the werewolf themselves can flee while using all senses as most werewolves are accidental bitten and are not born with the knowledge to do so as efficiently. NB werewolves have to learn it as well, but have an easier time since they never were without it.

• The wolf brain is only savage on the first change because the wolf and human are confused and in shock, causing it to rampage, possibly accidentally killing others. Like a lashing out child.

• (Lest you say otherwise.)

• When wolf, bitten werewolves often hunt from the amounts of energy exerted to change. This is why it is stereotypical to have a werewolf killing all a farmer's animals, because sometimes one would.

• When a werewolf touches silver, they have a huge shiver run up their spines from point of contact.

• Most are strong enough to lift 400 pounds, but three really strong people on top of them, with their weight and pressing down with their strength is enough to pin him. Most can lift three people easy, but not if they are trying to pin him. The strongest werewolf would be able to lift 900 pounds. The weakest can lift only about 150 pounds.

• Strong emotions of fear or anger can cause a change.

• Because it's not a quick one, unless the anger is held back, the pain reducers have time to send out, therefore usually making it unnoticed until it's too late. These changes also usually last until the thing causing said fear or anger is gone or they calm down. Unless it happens on a change time, they stay changed obviously but don't stay in a constant state of the emotion.

• Werewolves', when wolves, sense of smell is that of a wolf, they can track something two miles away, with their nose being able to pick out distinct odors based on scent. They can tell many things based on just smell, like what soap or emotion. However, when human, their smell is not as strong, though it is stronger than an average human.

• Their hearing is like a wolf's, a werewolf's sense of hearing increases greatly with the auditory range going up allowing them to hear frequencies that normal humans can’t. The range they can hear at, of course, depends largely on terrain with up to 6 miles in forested areas and 10 miles in an open plains area with few obstructions. as humans it is not as strong, however it is stronger than a typical human.

• Yes, a dog whistle will be heard by them regardless of state of form.

• Eyesight also is better, allowing for a werewolf to detect even the slightest movement with their eyes, gaining some added night vision as well. They also retain the human quality of the eye, being able to still see in color, thus giving them an edge even over normal wolves as far as sight is concerned.

• Unfortunately, however, those needing glasses still need them. Those born as werewolves still might need them.

• Werewolves heals 50% faster than a human. A minor wound takes one week to heal, instead of three. A broken bone takes three weeks instead of six. A two year wound would take a year.

• Weres heal faster when the wolf brain is considering the situation a threat. 75% faster than a human. A minor wound takes 5 days to heal, instead of three weeks. A broken bone takes one and a half weeks instead of six. A two year wound would take half a year.

• Speed in human form is faster than an average human but not like Flash-fast. In were form, it's that of a wolf.

• There are four forms; Feral, Anthro, Rogue and True. Feral is a true wolf form, though bigger than a real wolf. Anthro is a biped furry-like wolf form. Rogue is the battle form; it's built to be dangerous and scary. It's not much different from the Anthro though, it is more muscley and a bit hunched over, also taller than Anthro, but otherwise similar. Basically Rogue is a stereotype werewolf shape thing. True is like a typical werewolf seen, but 75% of the time they move quadruple, and are typically shorter than Rogue, but taller than Anthro.









• Werewolves' Anthro form is typically 10-15 inches taller than the human form standing up, and about 3-5 inches shorter than human height when quad. When feral, remove 1 foot and 5-8 inches. Rogue form is 12-17 inches taller than human form biped, 2-6 inches shorter than human when quad. True quad is shorter by ~10-18 and biped is talker by 10,91%. 11,91%. 12,77%. 13,77%. 14,62%. 15,47%. 16,47%. 17,32%. 18,32%.

• There are four moon change cycles you can use, Ford.

1. Change every full moon. (Nat)

2. Change every full and new Moon. (Ove)

3. Don't change via Moon at all. (Rand)

4. Change every night. (Nightmare)

• There are 14 Combinations of forms a werewolf can have for each world, Ford. 14 types of werewolves.

1. True, Rogue, Anthro, Feral- Omnes Formae, otherwise know as Omnis. Only Born.

2. Rogue, Anthro, Feral- Anima Vero, otherwise known as vero. Can be either born or bitten, 3/4 birth.

3. True, Anthro, Feral- indefensa. Only born.

4. True, Rogue, Feral- minus hominum, otherwise periculo. Only bitten.

5. True, Rogue- Pugnator. Only bitten.

6. True, Anthro- quod sic homines, otherwise sic. Either bitten or born, 3/4 born.

7. True, Feral- magis fabula, otherwise fabula. Only born unless one is extremely lucky, whether good or bad.

8. Anthro, Feral- hominis lupus, otherwise Hominis. Either bitten or born.

9. Rogue, feral- perfide curet, otherwise Curet. Bitten only.

10. Rogue, Anthro- homo malus, otherwise Malus. Either bitten or born.

11. True- verum fabula, otherwise Verum. Either bitten or born.

12. Rogue- lupus perfide, otherwise perfide. Only bitten.

13. Anthro- lupus duo, otherwise Duo. Only born.

14. Feral- canem curet, otherwise Canem. Either bitten or born.

• For easier reading, the fourteen types are; Omnis, Vero, Indefensa, Periculo, Pugnator, Sic, Fabula, Hominis, Curet, Malus, Verum, Perfide, Duo, Canem. Add werewolf to the end to have your type.

• All werewolves can change to a Half form, where they grow a muzzle, claws, fur, a tail and their ears turn wolf. Great for last minute Halloween costumes heh!

• If a werewolf is unlucky enough to experience a total Solar eclipse or total Lunar Eclipse, they will temporarily turn True regardless of if they can or not naturally, and will become aggressive regardless of how the world the world is from works.

• Change usually goes as so; Teeth, claws, fingers, toes, hands, feet, ears, eyes, legs, arms, internal organs and posture, skeletal formation, muzzle, head, anything else with anatomy and fur at the same time. Most changes happen at the same time as other changes, otherwise it would be slow and stupid.

• Symptoms of changing werewolf; Heavy Coughing, coughing with blood, sudden asthma, hunger, fingers hurting.

• Anthro form can be quadruple if the were decides to run on all fours. However, Rogue is strictly biped, and True is built to run quad, can't run biped but can walk for, on average, five minutes biped and can stand biped.

• Humans in reality have a heartbeat of 60-100, and wolves have a heart rate of 70-120. Werewolves have an average heartbeat of 90-150. When transformed, the heartbeats stays the same. The heartbeat speed help with spreading blood through the body, especially since it would take too much energy to change the heartbeat every single transformation.

• When they meet another werewolf, reactions depend. Weaker werewolves are more likely to avoid ones stronger than them. If they must go into an area with a stronger werewolf, they may go with hesitation and uncertainty. If they are the strongest one, though, they might just do whatever without fear.

• Four change choices (yes, I know we wrote it isn't but we know we love drama!);

1. Normal, The original thing. No pain during change and no aggression.

2. Complex mode, odd ones. No pain during unless hold back, varying degrees of aggression.

3. Danger, whoops. Normal Pain when change unless hold back, then massive, mostly aggressive unless think safe or unable to do anything.

4. Horror, oh no. Stereotypical werewolf, horribly pained transformations, aggressive as heck.

5. Disappoint, Oh. Changes more everyday, becomes more and more the wolf until the full moon. Ginger Snaps style.

• In world's with magic, potions can be made for the Danger and Horror werewolves.

• Potion most used requires; whole sage, wolf's bane leaves, basil stems, water, red poppy petals, and lavender.

• This is what starts most of Blofodale off as Son is missing the sage.

• Changes earlier when Full moon. Changes at 8pm instead of 9pm during summer and ~6pm instead of 7pm during winter. Changes back at 5am during summer and 7am during winter.

• While humans have a body temperature of 97-99 F°, werewolves have a temperature of 102-106 F°. Werewolves get hyperthermia around 108-110 F°, and get hypothermia around 96-94 F°.

• Werewolves sometimes get strong cravings for raw flesh, which is an extremely awkward thing when you get the crave and someone looks at you awkwardly after they hear you mumble the craving to yourself.

• Werewolves have a higher chance of heart attack than humans.

• Their wolf is emotionally driven, even if the human is logical. If the feels threatened, they might think on leaving it and saying nothing. But the wolf will not, they’ll make it known.

• Universe A; Regardless of type, Wolf, mentally, is like real wolf. (See point far at top.)

• Universe B; Werewolves’ behaviour depends on interactions during and just before change.

• Universe C; Hollywood murders RIP.

• A werewolf, despite seeming to be one or the other, is actually a subtle and hidden partnership between the wolf and the human. They make decisions together, but sometimes apart. Depends on who’s in control.

• This may sound unfair since it seems as if the wolf has only 1-2 days of activity. However, this is not true. The wolf and human are the same personalities, so it’s usually hard to tell when the other is in control. Especially if the human side is already an emotion dependant person. However, WW!Wilson is a good example of same-personality-different-way. It can be easier to tell for him. (More explained in RWW!W note.)

• Werewolves want to chase the thrown object. Teasing them or trying to make them, that’s considered rude to some.

• Werewolves are naturally very good at telling other’s emotions and making guesses on their thoughts based on body language alone.

• Most are allergic to;

• Chocolate

• Onions

• Garlic

• Avocado

• Grapes, Currants, Raisins

• Mushrooms

• When infected with the disease, the first signs are things like light and sound sensitivity. Physically, nothing’s really different yet.

• It’s not super obvious but there’s a strange gold shine in one’s pupil, basically the curse disease being all ‘Hey I’m here’.

• One would be more irritable, and sometimes feel super sick. It’s a disease after all. They’d likely get occasional spikes of hot flashes and their heart would be oddly quick beating as if they’d been running.

• They wouldn’t turn completely until the first full moon. On the new moon, they’d partially change like that Wilson draw and be kinda feral, irrational.

• Emotions, stress, and pain can cause unnecessary aggression. They could find their teeth oddly sharp and their ears pointed more than they should be. They’d be a bit fuzzier. That gold shine would be more prevalent.

• Sleep starts to feel like a chore to get. An infected individual would basically have insomnia until the full moon where their ‘insomnia’ likely would force them to stay completely awake until time.

• The day of, they might seem as though they woke up on the wrong side of the bed. They’d feel far more claustrophobic than they really should. Something about the outside would sorta be ‘calling’ them.

• Good reference for this, Stan, is the original version of Wilson’s backstory, check back on that. Quote from original note; “Wilson couldn't sleep, and went on a short walk around the surrounding woods and about 9pm~10pm, he changed.”

[beca-mitchell]

51 and can it be angsty? Lol I’ve been craving some 🙈

ask and i shall attempt to deliver!

The prompt was: “You deserve better than me.”

remember the day (‘cause this is what dreams should always be)

Summary: Five times Beca and Chloe listen to music together and what it means to really hear what your heart is trying to tell you. Angst warning.

(Also on AO3)

Word count: 3,534

part 1 (intro/prompt) | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12

Beca tries not to listen to the sound of the bustling around her. Tries not to listen to other moments of anguish and pain. She has enough for two lifetimes.

She looks up at the sound of footsteps, removing her headphones. It’s not like she was listening to music anyway.

Sympathy.

“She’s awake.”

one.

Cut me down, but it’s you who’ll have further to fallGhost town and haunted loveRaise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bonesI’m talking loud, not saying much

Chloe Beale has a way of worming her way into people’s lives, that much is true. It’s something Beca recognizes in her the moment they meet. The moment Beca feels Chloe’s eyes boring into her from across the quad, she’s helpless, making her way over to Aubrey and Chloe and reluctantly taking the proffered flyer.

She thinks about those ridiculously blue eyes for the next week or so, wondering if she’ll ever actually see her again. She learns that her name is Chloe from Luke, of all people. She ignores Jesse’s curious questions about why she wants to know and whether she’s going to join an a capella team.

God, she can’t imagine anything more terrible.

Beca has never heard harmonies quite like these before - at least, none that sent a thrill up her spine. She briefly allows herself to wonder how much of it has to do with how very much naked she is in a shower stall with another equally naked (and very attractive) woman.

Chloe is a force of nature. Beca finds herself drawn in, willingly.

She hasn’t quite listened to music before - not so organically and wholly in its base form. From Chloe’s equally wide-eyed expression, she figures it’s kind of the same.

It’s kind of on autopilot, the way they find their way together musically. Beca loves the way her voice sounds with Chloe’s - loves how easily Chloe adopts to her rendition of Titanium.

When Beca trails off, she takes in the very faint echo of their singing - the last vestiges of their shared music - and makes eye contact with Chloe. She wants to say something - anything. She wants to ask her if she wants to sing again, maybe if she wants to sing again over coffee or something stupid.

Instead, she lets her body move of its own accord and quickly tries to secure her shower again, awkwardly covering herself just in time for Chloe’s friend (boyfriend?) to interrupt them.

Beca blinks dazedly at the spot Chloe once occupied.

There’s a strange thrill rushing through her after the audition. She lies in bed, ignoring the sound of Kimmy Jin’s typing and stares blankly up at the ceiling until something kicks her ass into motion.

Beca (7:42 p.m.)Sorry I was late for the thingfor the audition…thing

Chloe (7:45 p.m.)Thanks for coming!You were amazing.I’m so glad you didn’t realize you had to prepare a song. :P

Beca bites her lip, typing a response. She goes for honesty. Truthfulness.

Beca (7:46 p.m.)Honestly??You deserve better than me if you want a shot this year.

Beca’s stress slowly rises as she waits for Chloe’s response.

Chloe (7:57 p.m.)You’re exactly what we need.

Re-reading that over and over again, it shudders through Beca’s system like the low bass of a song that echoes from one or two rooms over. She lets the reverb of the song carry her through, wondering if she has this and more to look forward to in University.

Beca never deletes the message.

two.

If I could find a way to see this straightI’d run away, to some fortune thatI, I should have foundBy now

The years in between being Chloe’s best friend and honest-to-God dating her feel like a blur to Beca. She wonders if she’ll ever recall something with such fond emotions than how she fell in love with Chloe slowly and surely only to realize that Chloe had just been waiting for her to catch up all this time.

“You know, I don’t deserve you,” Chloe mumbles, kissing her lips slowly, softly. Beca restrains her whimper, trying to hold tight to Chloe’s waist as best as she can while ensuring that they stay upright against the brick wall.

Chloe always finds herself on a high after concerts, the live music making her feel like she’s come alive again - like she’s just learned how to breathe for the first time.

Beca knows this feeling - it’s the feeling she gets when Chloe slides her arms around her waist and sways them gently to the music; it’s the feeling she gets when Chloe kisses her neck before humming into her ear and ensuring that Beca can feel the hum in her chest - the way it travels down her back. Beca slides her hands over Chloe’s arms and just holds on as best as she can.

“You deserve so much more,” Beca murmurs, nipping at her girlfriend’s lower lip. Chloe isn’t quite as restrained, opting to whine quietly into Beca’s mouth. “I love you,” Beca gets in, between increasingly passionate kisses.

And Chloe returns, as she always does, with “I love you, too, Beca.”

It’s so certain and sure. Beca isn’t sure how she missed it all those years ago. It’s a constant battle, warring inside her as she tries to reconcile her past with her present and how bright her future seems.

Dating Chloe is…incredible, to say the least. Beca wakes up every day with renewed energy and usually to the feeling of Chloe peppering kisses against her neck and face, coaxing her out of bed with the smell of coffee and the promise of a good day.

Concerts kind of become their thing, after the first couple of times. They find their favourite bands and musicians, uncaring of whether they’re at a smaller venue or an arena, and they sing along until their voices grow hoarse.

Chloe doesn’t care that she has to go in to work with a sore throat.

Beca doesn’t mind ignoring the other music execs for a day. She has the high of attending a concert with Chloe still running through her veins.

Now, Beca tilts her head, deepening the kiss. She stops Chloe’s hands from wandering too far underneath her jacket, lest she cops a feel where she can’t afford her to at the moment. She can practically feel Chloe’s pout against her lips, but she acquiesces and tugs at Beca’s hands instead.

“Let’s go home,” she suggests.

Beca plays with the ring in her jacket pocket, wondering why she was ever afraid of finding the perfect time.

Every moment with Chloe is perfect, so long as she has more and more memories to look forward to.

three.

Now the waves they drag you downCarry you to broken groundThough I’ll find you in the sandWipe you clean with dirty handsSo god damn this boiling space

When Beca receives the call, she’s at work. She’s working on a production for a new band, just recently signed to the label. She’s working on ensuring that the music flows, that chord progressions are just that cusp of addictive and melodic.

Her ringtone startles her out of her reverie. She scowls and puts it on silent.

She’s only just starting on another song when her coworker opens the door, wide-eyed and breathless. Beca takes off her headphones slowly, music fading.

“Yeah, Brett?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. “I’m kind of busy, dude.”

“It’s - it’s Chloe.”

Beca frowns. “What did she want?”

“No, no. God, Beca -” he looks stricken. “You need to go to the hospital. Beca,” he says, sympathy colouring his tone. Beca immediately hates it. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she says, unsure where her voice goes momentarily.

In fact, she’s sure she just repeatedly repeats “no” over and over again until she’s standing in front of a sympathetic-looking doctor - God, she hates sympathy.

“She didn’t deserve this,” she mutters angrily, turning to face Aubrey. “She didn’t fucking deserve this.”

Aubrey is quiet, at a loss for words. “Nobody does,” she says finally. “Especially not Chloe. Especially not you.”

Beca cries for the first time in years.

The doctor suggests that talking to Chloe might stimulate her brain activity. He then proceeds to hand her a small bag of Chloe’s things, including her phone, wallet, and engagement ring.

Beca can barely bring herself to look at how Chloe looks, clad in pale blue, with even paler skin.

“Talk to you?” she asks quietly, sitting by Chloe’s bedside. “What do you want to talk about?” She fiddles with her phone, opening a playlist. “This is your playlist, you know. God, you have some depressing songs on here.”

She rests her chin on her hand after setting her phone by Chloe’s bedside table, making sure the music isn’t too loud.

She wants to know what Chloe thought about this song. Why she was even listening to it, to begin with.

She wants to hear Chloe’s voice, or at least, a hum - an indication that she feels the music keenly; an indication that she’s alive and present.

Still, she knows Chloe’s there. Chloe and music are intertwined - how could they not be?

“Please,” Beca whispers, her voice getting lost in the sound of the music echoing quietly from her phone.

She wants a reply. A sign.

Instead, all Beca gets is a slow, repetitive beeping sound.

When Chloe fully wakes up, Beca is already waiting by her bedside.

Blue eyes flutter open.

“Chloe,” she chokes out. “Oh, thank God.” She reaches for Chloe’s hand. “I love you.”

Beca’s mind already finishes the reply, but the force of Chloe’s reply knocks her to the wayside. Four equally small words, yet not the ones Beca expects.

Chloe’s brow furrows, both in pain and confusion. “Wait, who are you?”

When Chloe wakes up, she asks Beca who she is and whether she can get her parents.

When Chloe wakes up, Beca’s life comes to a screeching halt.

four.

I can force a laughI can dance and play the partIf that’s what you askGive you all I am

Beca can’t sleep. She can kind of hear movement from the guest bedroom, so she assumes Chloe is the same.

This is nothing new. Chloe hasn’t been able to sleep without the aid of drugs since she’d woken up in the hospital and often, when she finally manages to find momentary peace, it is all interrupted by nightmares.

Despite it all, the nightmares are just nightmares, not Chloe regaining her memories by some supernatural force. It makes Beca’s heart hurt so much at the thought that Chloe doesn’t want her comfort or support - at least, not in the same way she used to.

Chloe stands tentatively in front of Beca’s bedroom door, raising a hand and poised to knock. She feels badly that she doesn’t really remember the other woman, despite being told by countless people that they were very much in love. Chloe thinks of the engagement ring that rests on the dresser in her room, the one she couldn’t bring herself to wear because it feels wrong to be engaged to a person she can’t remember.

It’s not that she can’t see herself falling in love with Beca. There’s a part of her that truly believes that she is very much capable of falling in love with Beca all over again - at least, with some time. She sees how much it pains Beca, however, and the way she tentatively moves around Chloe, like she’s afraid any sudden movement will spook her. She sees how hurt Beca is when she instinctively flinches away from her touch.

She wants to work on it.

Chloe thinks that she and Beca have been—well, they’ve been trying to get to know each other all over again.

It’s strange and awkward.

It’s mostly heartbreaking.

Chloe can see how much Beca loves her. It’s in the way Beca looks at her and how lost she looks when Chloe just can’t bring that same level of emotion to her eyes. Her headaches have been getting worse, so it’s even harder to make sense of her own feelings more than ever.

She wishes that she could remember their relationship - and how Beca proposed - the way Beca so obviously wants her to, but everything is still frustratingly blank and empty and hollow.

Chloe has to admit…there have been flashes of something—not memories, not yet. But an occasional sense of familiarity that Chloe can’t place or explain when she wanders through their home. Sometimes she brushes her hand over a pair of Beca’s headphones or a jacket hanging in the front closet and she’s struck with a warmth that infinitely relaxes her.

It’s that same familiarity and security that brings her to Beca’s - their? - bedroom door.

She puts her hand on the doorknob, almost opening it on instinct that she can’t quite place, but she realizes she doesn’t really have the right to walk into Beca’s bedroom unannounced, especially not in the middle of the night.

She knocks quietly, wondering if the foreign sensation has to do with her never having ever knocked before.

(Beca had actually done that - burst into her room - to her a week ago when she heard Chloe in the midst of one of her painful, non-descript nightmares.

Beca’s presence had been calming, so Chloe had asked tentatively asked her to stay, basking in the warmth of another person - perhaps a warmth specific to Beca Mitchell - for that night.

She wants to feel that way again.)

A long moment of silence passes, and Chloe shakes her head. She’s just about to turn away from the door when it suddenly opens to reveal a concerned and frantic-looking Beca.

“What’s wrong?” she asks immediately; worriedly. “Are you okay?”

Chloe swallows heavily, taking in Beca’s disheveled appearance with her mussed hair and wrinkled, loose t-shirt. She shakes her head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I can’t sleep.”

Dark blue eyes lock onto her with pain and sympathy. “Is it…nightmares?”

“Yes, kind of,” Chloe admits. She had woken herself up just before it got too bad, but “I haven’t been able to fall back asleep.”

Beca nods slowly, biting her lower lip in a manner that Chloe finds herself drawn to. Beca pretends not to notice. “Do you want to…um…come in and talk about uh…dogs?” she asks, furrowing her brow.

Taking a breath, Chloe seems to battle with something internally.

Beca waits, as patiently as she can.

“Can I just…sleep next to you?” Beca’s breath catches at that - trying not to physically show how hard her heart is thrumming in her chest. “Doctor Forham suggested it might work,” Chloe clarifies.

Beca tries not to let her disappointment show, but it’s progress nonetheless. She nods, choosing to remain silent and opens her door further.

Glancing down, Chloe slowly makes her way into their - Beca’s - bedroom.

“Do you want to listen to something?” Chloe suggests tentatively. “You…you like music, right?”

Beca swallows, nodding. The question is painful in every way. She fiddles with her phone, trying to ignore the way Chloe tries to get comfortable in bed, as if it’s a foreign experience to her. When she glances back over, she sees Chloe reclining comfortably into her pillows, a sight so familiar that it makes Beca’s chest ache.

Christina Perri’s “Human” begins to play.

Beca averts her eyes from the sight.

She doesn’t dwell - she can’t, lest she starts to cry again - and flicks off her light, letting the soft music wash over her.

“I like this song,” Chloe says faintly, on the verge of sleep already.

A million things run through Beca’s mind. She wants to ask Chloe what she likes about the song - whether she’d like to sing it with her, for old times’ sake. She wants to ask Chloe if she’d like to hear the story about how Beca drunkenly sang this song to her at a karaoke night shortly before kissing her and finally confessing her feelings.

Beca thinks of all the things she could have said - should have said long before the accident. She wonders if Chloe remembers how they’d drive with the windows down, screaming song lyrics. Holding hands. Running their fingers through each other’s hair.

I love you.

Please, come back to me.

I’m sorry.

“Goodnight,” she whispers, long after Chloe has fallen asleep.

five.

Hey now, is it the dawn or the end?The hours we talkedYou wished we’d stoppedActing like it’s nothing at all

The headaches have been getting worse. Chloe can barely manage to spend time awake from how often she wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming.

It takes its toll on both of them, that much Chloe can tell. She sees the circles under Beca’s eyes, sees the number of missed calls on Beca’s phone from work because of all the time she spends at home with Chloe in hopes that she’ll remember.

And how desperately Chloe wants to remember.

Beca is an…incredible woman.

Chloe thinks that being in love with Beca might be the easiest thing to do, amidst everything.

But Chloe can also tell that Beca is holding on to some kind of hope that her Chloe will come back - the Chloe that is so far inside her brain that she’s not sure she exists anymore.

It hurts, more than it should, realizing that she can’t give Beca what she wants.

So on a Sunday morning, Chloe sits down with a steaming mug of tea for herself and a coffee - one sugar - for Beca.

“Thanks,” Beca murmurs, eyes fixated on the table in front of her. She’s not sure what Chloe wanted to talk about. She feels like all her nerves are fried, like she’s on the edge of something, but she’s not quite sure which way she’s going to fall.

Their Bluetooth speaker plays quietly in the background.

Sitting at their kitchen table, Beca thinks that she just closes her eyes, she can imagine that it’s just another Sunday morning. At any moment, Chloe will playfully nudge her leg with her foot and ask her if she’s going to spend all day lounging in her pajamas. At any moment, Chloe will kiss her cheek and comb her fingers through Beca’s hair.

At any moment, Chloe will-

“You deserve better than me,” Chloe whispers, reaching out to brush her hand briefly over Beca’s hand. It is simultaneously warm and cold. Beca shivers, but resists tugging her hand away completely. She forces herself to look up at her - her better half, her soulmate, her Chloe .

Except it’s not and Chloe hasn’t been Chloe since the accident.

Still, the words ring in Beca’s memory like the faint whisper of a fading dream.

“What?” she manages to say, voice catching on the question.

“I mean…” Chloe sighs, hunching her shoulders a little. The music plays, steady percussion quiet and oppressive in Beca’s chest. “I can’t…I feel like I’m holding you back,” she murmurs. “I can’t remember anything past my third year of university. I…” Chloe bites her lip, sitting up more fully and bringing her knees up to her chest. She wraps her arms around her bent legs. “I can’t remember being in love with you,” she whispers.

Beca scrambles to sit up straighter too, feeling something that she’s not quite getting - it’s slipping through her fingers and she’s struggling to keep her grasp on reality. “You d-don’t have to be in love with me,” Beca whimpers, hating herself for how weak she sounds; hating herself for knowing how untrue it is. She needs Chloe’s love on some level, having lived with it and having basked in it for the past two years.

Two and a half blissful years. More, maybe, if Beca had been stronger sooner.

Chloe sighs, rubbing her face with her hands. “It’s…temporary,” she assures. “I need to move home and be with my parents. My family. It’ll help, we think.”

Beca bites the inside of her cheek so hard that she can taste blood. It makes her blood run cold that Chloe no longer considers her family.

The music seems to fade to nothing.

It makes her heart shatter even further that Chloe no longer wants to just be with her - a far cry from just a few short weeks ago where she had fallen asleep comfortably next to Beca; a far cry from the false security and comfort Beca finally managed to find after two long months of wondering whether Chloe would finally wake up and then realizing that the love of her life no longer remembered who she was at all .

“Beca?” Chloe asks softly. Tentatively. Like she’s afraid that Beca’s a ticking bomb.

“Yeah,” Beca manages to rasp out. “Yeah, that’s…okay. You should do that.”

And…

She exchanges one weight on her chest for another.

Silence.

Songs in order:

Losing Your Memory - Ryan Star

Titanium - David Guetta ft. Sia

Cough Syrup - Young the Giant

Spanish Sahara - Foals

Human - Christina Perri

I Saw You Close Your Eyes - Local Natives

fic tag

[dannejavi]

Tales of Dusk: The Drinking Night

"So, mutt. Tell me about the Hale vaults," basking in the afterglow of sex, Lorna reclined on Derek's chest, as waited for his knot to deflates.

"Hale lineage runs as one of the oldest in the supernatural community, and my family wasn’t the only one. There is several of these vaults placed all over the world owned by other Hales members. They keep our heirlooms, valuable belongings and precious artifacts," Derek explained as caressed the old witch's wrinkly torso.

"Hmm, I suppose you can open them..."

"The vaults are protected by ancient enchantments, very difficult to break. It has a lock that only the claws of a Hale shapeshifter can open to ensure that their belongings are well protected. So, yes, I can open them. Why the question? Do you wanna see what's inside?" Derek smirked, teasing Lorna's earlobe with his tongue.

"Perhaps,” her smile was mischievous. “Where is located the closest one?"

"Since there are multiple branches of the Hale Family, there are also multiple vaults throughout the world. The main one is located in Beacon Hills, underneath Beacon Hills High School."

"Too risky to get back there," the witch pondered.

"There is another one in North Carolina, in a private plot of land near a nearby shanty town" Derek explained, nuzzling Lorna's neck.

Lorna smiled. "Great. You going to take me there. I wanna know what sorts of artifacts your family has been keeping hold all these centuries. Wouldn't you know what’s in it, would you, mutt?"

Derek shook his head. "I know its location but never been there"

"So, North Carolina is our next move" she gasped when Derek's knot finally deflated. Pushing the witch on her back, Derek spread her legs open and eagerly licked her vulva.

"You never did this before. You know there isn't any sperm left, my uterus absorbs every drop"

"I know, but I had an urgency. It felt right"

Lorna snickered. "You are more of a mutt with each passing day. But that's enough," she pushed Derek off, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You are here for my pleasure, and not the other way around"

"Pick up my clothes and then dress yourself up. Today is drinking night. Did you not forget, did you?

Derek did as commanded, and responded while pulled up his jeans.

"Of course not. Drinking nights are my favorite" his grin was large and malicious.

After covering her decrepit body with a long grey tunic, Lorna stepped closer and tapped Derek's cheek two times, speaking authoritatively. "Good. Now you go and put this stunning beauty you have to work. All that fucking got me thirsty"

Smirking, Derek pulled on his leather jacket, grabbed the Silver FJ Cruiser keys and headed towards the door.

The bar isn’t any different from several others they had visited along the Californian dusty roads. Its rustic decoration made the place looks provincial, with drunk patrons, a few hot chicks and loud buzzing to complete the scenario.

Derek spotted his next catch, a young and pretty blonde girl with a nice pair of breasts almost jumping out of an opened flannel shirt tied front, a lean waist and curvy hips accentuated by a washed off blue daisy dukes. The typical all American girl, but the kind of who goes to roadside bars searching for trouble.

She may have found, Derek thought.

Maybe she was the daughter of one of these old drunkards, maybe she was on a cross-state trip with a bunch of girlfriends that have decided to stop by. Whatever it was, it didn't matter.

Walking like a predator lurching after his prey, Derek flaunted his sexy self-confidence attested by his incredibly gorgeous looks. He was an Alpha, after all.

He took a seat by her side, glancing all nonchalant like the type of guy who knows what he wants when he wants. Derek has a preference. Some girls are easy to lure out. And they always fell into the type he was pulling out.

Charming. Cocky. Lady-killer.

She glanced over at him, smiling timidly as tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Derek smirked. He knew that gesture, the previous ones had done that exact same move. How predictable.

He could tell she was clearly interested, even if he hadn’t said a word yet. It was his manly features, Hollywoodian good looks on working that had that effect upon them. It never failed.

Derek asked for two beers. He offered her one as gave a long sip of his own, tilting his head back, showing off the sturdiness of his neck.

He could hear the girl’s heart skip a beat.

“Thanks” she blurted out, drinking her beer, her eyes scanning him with increasing interest.

“My name is Derek,” he said.

“Allana,” she responded.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl,” it was corny, Derek knew that. But despite his willingness tonight, he wasn't much for well-made casanova lines. He wanted to get back to Lorna as soon as possible. Also, Derek knew he could drop the corniest line ever, it would take just a flashy smile to make the girl follow him wherever whatever.

“It suits you”

He noticed the way her blue eyes wandered up and down his masculine form, could smell the lusting taking over every organ of her hot body.

Derek had gained some muscles over the passing weeks, adding to his already unbelievable, rip physique. The way his biceps stretched the leather fabric, how the dark blue jeans hugged his thighs nicely. Derek could practically hear her blood rushing down to her vulva.

They talked for about five minutes. Allana told him some things about herself that Derek doesn't bother to remember. He wouldn't need knew that, after everything is done.

Derek’s grin was charmingly enigmatic. He praised the silkiness of her skin, leaning in to kiss gently the long line of her throat, brushing lips right under her ear and scraping his stubble purposefully. He sensed her body shivering and arousing spiking up to the moon.

When she looked at him, Derek had a magnetic, dark glowing in his inscrutable green, predatory eyes.

When they get back to the motel, Derek just kicked the door closed, lifted Allana’s lightweight and tossed her violently into the bed in a single movement.

“Eager, aren't you?” she giggled, her words full of uncertainty. But it quickly dissipated when Derek got rid of his leather jacket and henley, exposing the glory of his perfect physique for her lustful demand.

He jumped over, ripping apart the fabric of her shirt. Allana’s protests were suppressed as he gropes her wrists and forced them up toward the headboard while dominated her mouth with harsh kisses, greedy lips and probing tongue.

Derek pressed down on her, pushing his boner against her pelvis. For a moment it was savage, passionate until it’s too late, and Allana’s wrists were magically bound to the headboard by invisible ties.

The kissing becomes hungrier, feral, and she yelped in pain when Derek bite her bottom lip, drawing a thin line of blood.

He pulled back, smelling her emotions shift from aroused to frightened. Then, Allana could see something more in Derek’s eyes, something that wasn't there when they met at the bar. She saw death.

She gasped when Derek lifted himself off of her, standing in the foot of the bed like a psychopath.

“Derek… What is this?” she asked, struggling in the bounds. “I don’t like this. Release me”

“I’m afraid this won't be possible, dear” purred raspy voice as a creepy figure of a cadaveric old woman came out from the shadows.

Hunched over herself, Lorna’s walked towards Derek, showing off her disgusting presence to the frightened girl. Allana soon noticed her wrinkled skin that seemed to stick to the bone, resembling a dead withered corpse, strands of white drought hair framing her long cadaveric face.

“Who are you? What kind of sick game is this? Derek?” Allana yelled out.

“Her screams…” Derek glanced at Lorna, ignoring her desperate pleas.

“Don’t worry. I put a cloaking spell on the room. She can rip her vocal cords apart, no one’s gonna hear a thing”

Tears gathered on Allana’s eyes, a chilling shiver ran up her spine as the witch scanned her with veiled, cataract glazed eyes.

“Hmm, interesting. You always pick them blondes,”

“Is this a problem?” he asked.

Lorna shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Derek, who’s this woman? What’s happening? I thought-”

“You really thought a gorgeous buck like Derek would sex you up, uhn?” Lorna cut her off, sliding emaciated, bony hands up Derek’s muscled chest.

“His craving for young sluts like you has ended a long time ago, bitch. He’s mine now!”

Derek grinned when Lorna’s hand trailed her down his chest and stomach, squeezing the bulge in his jeans. He leaned in, taking the witch’s disgusting mouth in an urgent kiss.

Squirming on the bed, Allana watched terrified the sick couple necking each other. She screamed her lungs out, a futile attempt to be rescued from the devious nightmare that was about to start.

“Should we begin now?” Derek asked, his tongue swirling around Lorna’s.

The witch snickered. “Yes, mutt. It’s drinking time”

Between swears and cried pleas, Allana struggled on her restraints. Derek and Lorna had her suspended in the middle of the room by magic, her arms stretched above her head bound together by invisible ties. She was naked as they had ripped out all of her clothes.

Several cuts on her inner thighs allowed the blood to freely drip down along her legs into a large bowl under her bound feet.

Still conscious, bleeding out like a pig, the girl was forced to watch Derek and Lorna fucking each other brains out.

Lying on their sides, Derek held Lorna’s left leg up in the air using his left hand, fucking the witch with heedless abandon. Lorna’s elderly body jerked at each impact of Derek’s hips, and Allana closed her eyes to not witness the repulsive act.

“Do you hear it, my dear? That’s the sound of Derek’s cock plunging my pussy,” the old witch moaned out, raspy voice describing the slurping noise of Derek going in and out of her. “Open up your eyes and watch it for yourself. It’s a grand sight to behold”

The girl started to sobbing, her skin getting more and paler, a twisted image of deteriorating youth that Lorna very willingly loved to drink from.

“You don’t have an idea how good he feels inside me,” she said, a wobbly voice from the force of his thrusts, as Derek eagerly licked the wrinkly folds of her neck. The witch let out a raucous laugh, bucking back to match him. Reaching her left hand back, she carded fingers through his hair, pulling him close.

It was insane, the way that witch’s frail body jolted with Derek’s ministrations, powerful strokes that seem too rough, capable of snap her in two.

Allana’s breathing was failing, her lungs trying to pump oxygen into her system. But along each inhale, her nostrils burn with the grimacing mix of musky and rancid smell that impregnated the air every time Derek and Lorna have sex.

“Yes, mutt. Give me your filthy cock,” she moaned, squirming under Derek’s hold.

While the Alpha kept focused on his task, she pulled out a half-empty whiskey bottle from underneath the pillows. But it wasn't alcohol that lay in it, and the realization hit Allana like a truck as she watched the witch popping the bottle open and taking a long swig of the red liquid sloshing inside.

She was drinking blood.

Grunting out in ecstasy, Lorna was relishing in the savagery of Derek’s dominance, the rush of pleasure at every plunge of his 10 inches cock, the slap of his heavy ballsac on her. She heard him growl and bottom out, as his knot swelled inside her at same time streams of semen flowed in like a steamy heated floodgate.

“Fuck! That’s it!” Derek groaned, feeling his nuts tingling.

They shuddered together, as Lorna’s infertile uterus absorbing Derek’s Alpha vitality. As the orgasmic wave subsided, Derek watched Allana agonizing like some kind of slaughtered farm animal. Unfazed by the sight, he took the bottle from Lorna and took three long gulps, as Allana’s life flow away with the blood in the bowl, leaving a spasming, dying body behind.

"She was a brave one, I admit. Took a hell to finally succumb. At least she died completely terrified. Imagine what she’s going to taste like, pure fear” Lorna caressed Derek’s naked flank as his knot throbbed inside her pussy.

He settled the bottle on the nightstand, whispering close to Lorna’s face with a dark, hideous smirk.

“I can't wait to drink it with you,”

She let out an excited shrieking, grasping his black hair and claiming his mouth in a bloody flavored kiss.

[proudpukwudgie]

The Scarf - Newt x Reader - Part 2

Holy shit. here it is, yall. part two. finally. the original was posted almost a FULL YEAR AGO and oh man i cannot believe that. i cant believe my account is over a year old. what in the Heck. I love you guys all so much and consider this fic an apology for the unannounced hiatus I took.

Without further ado!!!!! Here is the much-awaited part two!! A lot of people asked me to tag them, so I made a separate post where I tagged them and linked here. I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: adult themes but nothing explicit. angst, followed by so much fluff you might suffocate! Part one can be found here.

--

You had never laid eyes on an article of clothing so beautiful before in your life. It wasn’t glitzy or overly extravagant, but it was beautiful in its purity and simplicity. The fabric fell like waves, a soft eggshell color. The plain base part of the dress was made of satin that gleamed in the thin light filtering in through the curtains that obscured the window, and the delicate overlay of Georgette fabric complimented it perfectly. It was simply incredible and incredibly simple at the same time.

You were dreading having to don the gorgeous thing, and your throat tightened at the very thought of it. Your hair was done, your makeup had been painted, your neck perfumed and your hands manicured all in preparation for the dreaded marriage, but finally slipping the dress on was the last thing you had left to do. It felt as though it the one thing that stood between you and the sealing of your fate, so final, your last admittance to yourself that yes, you were going through with this after all; it would make the whole situation seem real to you, once you physically felt that fabric in your hands and secured the suffocating corset to your body. It would solidify it all, shifting everything into place (your poor, unsuspecting organs included, if you knew anything about the nature of corsets), and you were planning to delay the finality of that as long as you possibly could. You had done so many things in preparation, but that all might as well have been a long, bizarre nightmare that you had been floating through with no real attachment. Seeing yourself in the dress would make it real, and you were in no way prepared for that.

You had been gifted with rose petals the night before by your aunt, who was now your step-mother-in-law-to-be (what a mouthful), so you smelled very faintly of rose water from your bath the night before. The wedding was to be indoors, in the ballroom of Duncan’s expansive family home, and you could hear the muffled sounds of violinists rehearsing from where you sat on the bed of the guest bedroom. Your favorite flowers were everywhere, and the air smelled vaguely of your favorite desert, which had been mass-prepared for the afterparty. Everything about the setting was lovely and perfect in the most traditional of ways, and that was precisely what twisted the whole thing into your own personal hell. Each lovely thing seemed to mock you, and you could almost hear irony’s delighted and sinister whispering of isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it perfect?

It was. It was beautiful. It should have been a dream, like what you had oft imagined as a small girl, but it now served as the setting for a hellish nightmare. It was like one big, cruel plot to ruin every last bit of your comfort and happiness. You felt sure that after this day, you would never be able to eat your favorite dessert again without getting physically sick. It would all be ruined for you. Even the nature of the situation was dreamlike, and you floated through it as if in a stupor, a serene sense of denial enveloping you and keeping you calm. The way time was seeming to slow down, to creep on, the smiling faces you couldn’t really bring into focus or recognize, the garbled way all the voices fell on your ears, the way each movement you made seemed to require conscious effort. Your heart was thundering in your ears and every part of your speech seemed automatic and unconscious. It was like you were asleep.

You got slowly to your feet and made your way over to your suitcases. They held all of the things you would need for your honeymoon in France, but there was only one thing in there that really mattered to you, and you kneeled to open your suitcase and find it.

There it lay, among a pile of your socks, pajamas, and underwear, folded and placed with such care. Your shaky hands gripped it, pulling it to your face. It was slightly scratchy and pilled, but it still brought you comfort and soft happiness. It grounded you, and made the events seem somehow both more real and less overwhelming. It still smelled like him. Like leather and earth and pine trees, like sawdust and dew, and like that one specific scent you couldn’t quite identify that was unique to him. It made you sad, but at the same time it gave you comfort by association. You got to your feet, still grasping the scarf in your hands, and went back to the bed. You laid it carefully on the soft and pricey sheets, smoothing over it with your fingers and taking a deep breath. The contrast of the cheap, slightly scratchy material of the scarf and the expensive and smooth liquid silk of the sheets against your fingers was amusing to you in some strange way; the former was your final haven and the latter, though it logically should have been more pleasant, made you feel almost physically ill. “I need you with me for this, Newt,” you murmured. “and this is the closest thing to you I’m going to have,”

You turned slowly to the dress, dread almost rooting you to the spot, but in a suddenly forceful and swift movement you pulled it off the hanger and let it pool at your feet. You stepped carefully into it and pulled it up over your slip, tugging the fabric over your hips. You felt the soft brush of the silk against the bare skin of your legs, and the Georgette fabric was almost ticklish on your shoulders. You tied the corset loosely at your back with a slight struggle, resolving to have someone else fix it later, and drew a shaky breath before turning to look in the full length mirror, but before you got a chance to look, there was a small rapping at the door. “Come in,” you called, the sickly sweet tone of your voice foreign to you. Your father swung the door open, a gentle smile on his face. He held a small box in his hands and his expression imitated happiness, but his eyes betrayed the fact that he was sad.

“You look lovely,” he said.

You smiled faintly, walking over to him. “Thank you, papa,”

You stood in silence for a moment, both unsure what to say next, shuffling uncomfortably. At last, he looked up at you and held the box out with trembling hands. His eyes were glassy, filled with affection and melancholy. “Your mother... this is one of the only things I have left from her. She purchased it for your sister’s first birthday, saying that it was for her to wear to her wedding someday, but that day hasn’t come for her yet,” he said.

You took the box, lifting the lid off carefully, and your eyes grew wide. It was pure silver, and absolutely breathtaking. The design was ornate, vinelike with leaf patterns and twists and turns, and diamonds were sprinkled strategically across it. It had a high choker collar, and the front expanded down to your chest and collarbones when you slipped it on and snapped it closed in the back. It made it somewhat hard to move your neck, but it was nothing short of stunning. You turned to look in the mirror at last, tears of both intense sadness and awe in your eyes as you regarded yourself properly for the first time.

“She would have been proud of you,” he said softly, placing his hand on your arm lightly. “For being so brave through all of this. This necklace was for your sister, but she would have wanted you to have it,”

“It’s beautiful,” you managed to croak out at last, emotion heavy in your voice. “Are these... are they real?” you murmured, brushing your fingers against the diamonds that now dotted your throat and chest.

He chuckled slightly. “Of course they are,” he said, looking somewhat nostalgic for a moment. “Your mother had...expensive tastes. She always wanted the best and most beautiful, no matter how much money she spent to get that,” he said fondly, shaking his head fondly at your mother’s habits as though spending ludicrous amounts of money had been just another endearing quirk of hers.

You tapped your fingernail against the silver, heart racing with sudden anticipation. Your mind whirled to keep up with the information he was presenting to you, and for the first time in four months you felt the genuine warmth of hope blooming in your chest. “Expensive...expensive tastes?” you spluttered out, eyes wide in something like disbelief. As though you had to see as much of this as you could to properly believe what was unfolding before you. “How expensive?”

He clearly wasn’t catching on to your implications, as he looked thoughtful for a moment. “She purchased it at an auction, I believe, for around, nine, ten thousand? It seems like so much now, but back then, it wasn’t quite so-”

You whirled around to grip his shoulders, digging your fingers in unintentionally in your excitement. “Papa. How much would this necklace sell for?” you asked wildly, startling him. He blinked at you quizzically.

“Probably about the same,”

You dropped your hands to your side, eyes glowing. “Thank you, Papa! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you cried, throwing your arms around his shoulders for a moment. Tears prickled in your eyes and your lip trembled, relief coursing through you in waves. You pulled away to look at his bewildered face for a moment. “This is just... the best gift I’ve ever received,”

He smiled a little bit, overwhelmed and confused. “Your mother did have wonderful taste,” he replied. “you apparently take after her more than I had thought,” he said with a thoughtful quirk of his mouth, clearly under the impression that your excitement was due to the fine quality of the necklace. It was due to the fine quality of the necklace, but not for the reason that he seemed to think.

You ushered him out the door swiftly. “Listen, Papa, I really need to finish getting ready, so please come get me again when it’s time for you to escort me down the aisle!” you chirped, moving to swing the door closed behind him, but pausing to look at him for a moment. “I love you, Papa. Thank you for everything you have done to support me through this,” you murmured, fondness and guilt filling you at the idea of leaving your father behind to face the wrath of his ex-future-inlaws-who-are-still-technically-his-inlaws-just-not-through-his-daughter (another mouthful, my goodness).

You whirled around. The wedding was soon, and you had no time to change into proper clothes, so you slid across the floor and grabbed one of your suitcases, flinging it open and pulling everything out with little care for tidiness. You followed suit with each of your other suitcases, sorting through the pile of your belongings to grab only the essentials and shove them into one case. You snapped that closed and threw the curtains open, undoing the latch to your window and letting the warm summer breeze in. Freedom. The wind smelled of grass, flowers and freedom.

You didn’t need to marry Duncan to get all that money. You could just sell your mother’s necklace.

You were on the first floor, and you dropped your suitcase out the window and made a move to follow it, but hesitated for a moment. You turned back quickly, snatching your wand from the dresser and waving it hastily to summon a bit of parchment and a quill. You scrawled a half-hearted explanation note with haste, the ink blotchy and smudged, and laid it on the bed before turning back to the window. You hesitated again, wand in your teeth, before slipping back to your bed to grab the scarf and toss the gawdy and awful engagement ring beside the note for good measure. You could have sold it as well, but you were much more keen on the idea of owing Duncan absolutely nothing. Without so much as a glance over your shoulder, you hastily tied the scarf around your waist and leapt back toward the window.

You swung your leg over the windowsill, not caring whether you ripped the dress, and the instant your feet were planted in the grass, you took off running as fast as you possibly could. Your feet protested due to your fancy wedding shoes that had most certainly not been designed for such exercise, but you paid it no mind. The pain was nothing bothersome, simply a complimenting factor to the exhilaration of your sudden liberation and the heartbeat thundering in your ears. The necklace was safe in its box your suitcase, and you wasted no time high-tailing it toward the woods. You couldn’t take the main road for fear of running into a bewildered guest who was still arriving (what a story they would have had to tell) and you couldn’t leave the property through the front gate, so you figured that taking a long hike through the forest was your best bet to get out of there as fast as you possibly could. Running through the forest in your fancy clothing and painful shoes was evoking some serious nostalgia, and you felt your heart tugging painfully at the thought of your best friend.

You would not go to Newt for assistance, no matter how much you longed to. Some deep romantic part of you wanted desperately to run right out of the arms of one man and into the arms of another, which your logical side told you was absolutely ridiculous. This was not for him. This was for you and for your sister. Part of you was afraid to ask anything of Newt ever again, fearing that you had caused him an irreparable amount of pain, and you figured with a pang of sadness that you would have to learn to live with that. You had never expected him to do anything about your situation because he owed you absolutely nothing in exchange for loving him. What a ridiculous notion that was. You had known him and loved him and hurt him and thoughts of him were only a very small part of your motivation for running as far from Duncan as you possibly could.

Once you were past the tree line and the house was out of sight, you slowed down some. The most dangerous part was over. You were so close to freedom. You knew for a fact that walking about two miles in these woods would lead you to a road, and you could either hitchhike with some muggle or follow the road to the town where the train station lay. You had to go. You had to get out of there, and it didn’t matter where you went to, but you had to get out and there were too many muggles around to apparate safely. Besides, you would not risk splinching or accidentally leaving your suitcase behind near that house. You didn’t want to have to set foot in Duncan’s wretched mansion ever again.

An idea sprang into your head, and you grinned as you gripped the dress in your fists and lifted it up a little so you wouldn’t trip on it as you stepped over a log. Your sister was hospitalized, which meant that her home was empty. She had been sick for a while, but only very recently had she been admitted to full-time care at a magical medical facility, so her teeny house was still just as she’d left it. The key was under the doormat! You could go there to get yourself together and change into proper clothes before finding a jeweler or someone to sell the necklace to, and you were suddenly ecstatic. Your hair caught briefly in a branch, and you untangled yourself impatiently, your carefully pinned hairdo falling out bit by bit. It was lopsided now, and you cast a bobby pin distastefully aside. You would sell the necklace, have your father collect your things from Duncan’s home, and be freed of the responsibility of marrying him. Your sister would get the treatment she needed, and you would have a shot at being happy again.

A shot at being free.

--

You emerged from the woods about an hour and a half later, your feet aching and your beautiful wedding dress torn and smudged with mud from dragging along the earth behind you. Twigs were caught in your hair and your makeup was smeared in a clownlike fashion as a result of your hands wiping away at the sheen of sweat that covered your face. You had never been happier in your whole life, and you found yourself giggling reflexively as you started along the road.

It wasn’t a long walk to town, and you beamed the whole way there, taking no notice to the bewildered looks you were getting from passerby. You must have been quite the spectacle, especially to muggles, with your wand clenched in one carefully manicured hand and a suitcase in the other. You were a grinning mess, dirt and sweat and makeup smudged on your cheeks and once-pristine dress, your bare arms crisscrossed with scrapes from trees and brambles and twigs and a well-loved Hufflepuff scarf tied securely around your waist. You walked into town with a slight limp, your feet still aching terribly even with your shoes off and dangling from your hand, and smiled politely at anyone you walked past. You disregarded at all looks because frankly, you didn’t give a shit what they thought of you right now. You were where you needed to be and you had done what you needed to do to get there.

The train station was nearer than you had been expecting, and you marched up to the small stand where a man was selling tickets. “Where to...” he looked up from whatever he was writing, and looked bewildered for a moment. “...Miss? Mrs?”

You replied with the name of your sister’s town, and he looked surprised. “That’s a few hours away, ma’am,” he said as he got you a ticket. “Why are you headed there, and in such a hurry?” he inquired, gaze lingering pointedly on your wedding dress.

“Cold feet,” you said with a cheeky grin, and he raised his eyebrows but didn’t question you any further. He opened his mouth to give you the price, but you were suddenly completely disinterested in anything he had to say. You gripped your wand tight and turned away, wide eyed, to look at the thin stream of people trickling out of the train station doors with disbelief written all over your features.

“Miss...us? Missus?” he called after you, but you had swept up your suitcase and were off, pain disregarded as your bare feet flew against the rough pavement. A familiar figure had caught your eye, and you broke immediately into a sprint. He was walking rapidly, anxiously, with purpose, his signature case in hand.

“Newt!” you cried, surprised and delighted as you realized that the artificial honey that had been dripping from your words for the last few months had dissolved into raw and real joy; you found yourself wondering for a fleeting moment if you were having some bizarre dream and you were about to wake up and put on your incredibly simple dress and marry Duncan for the money, but all notions of that dissolved as he turned and his eyes met yours and his face lit up in a way that you had never seen before. You were crashing into his arms in an instant, and he was real, this was real and not a dream and he didn’t smell anything like that horrid house, of rosewater or your favorite dessert or like sickly sweet and perfect flowers, he smelled like train smoke and pine and sawdust and earth and sweat and you were crying, voice raw, all of a sudden, tears coursing down your cheeks and dripping onto his coat as he gripped you, lifting you into his arms for a moment as though he, too, needed reassurance that you were real.

You said nothing for a moment, just holding each other as tight as you could, until you pulled away and gripped his face in your hands. His familiar stubble scratched against your fingers and you grinned. “Merlin’s Beard, Newt, what on Earth are you doing here?” you cried, and he grinned back at you.

“Nice scarf,” he commented, eyes flicking to your waist, where the Hufflepuff scarf he had given you only weeks before was tied securely. “and I could ask you the same question,” he teased. “Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be? A wedding, perhaps?” he chuckled a little, his eyes bright and his lips fixed in an instinctive grin.

You smoothed your thumb over his cheek, laughing breathlessly. “I don’t have to marry him. I have an old necklace of my mother’s that I can sell and I’ll still have money to spare but I didn’t know until today so I had to sneak out the window of the guest bedroom in my wedding dress and hike here through the woods,” you spoke rapidly, barely pausing to breathe, let alone articulate properly.

He started laughing even harder, eyes aglow as he gripped your hips and pulled you in to steal a swift kiss. “The Occamies hatched. They finally hatched a few days ago and I sold the shells,” he said in between little fits of laughter. “I sold the silver so that maybe I could... ah,” he paused for a moment, looking exhausted and infatuated and ecstatic all at once as he studied your face.

You looked at him with unrestrained adoration in your tearful eyes. “Why?” you found yourself murmuring in awestruck disbelief.

“Perhaps so that I could take Duncan’s place as the rich suitor who would fund your sister’s treatment,” he said, chuckling some more with both relief and amusement. “Or perhaps just as an old friend who would sacrifice anything necessary to see that you are happy,” He smiled in the way that he always did, a sort of sober honesty in his eyes as he finished his statements. “Either way...I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I could have done something but chose not to,”

At this, you pulled him in hastily for another kiss. This time, it was sloppy and desperate and your teeth clacked clumsily and you smiled into it as he leaned forward. It was, without a doubt, the best kiss you had ever had. His lips were chapped and his face was unshaven. It scratched against your skin and you grinned, tugging at his hair with a giggle as he pulled away to look at you.

You gripped Newt’s hands in yours, looking at him with happiness written plainly all over your features, and tugged him up and toward the ticket man. You hadn’t noticed, but he had been watching this emotional exchange incredulously and he eyed the pair of you with a judgmental but amused expression as you approached him.

“So I assume that will be two tickets, then,”

-------

omg it’s done??? im so ????? it’s been almost a year since I posted the first one and here we are!! the scarf: part 2!!! holy heck i hope u guys like it i had so much fun with it

[augusthuntress1996]

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Unfortunately, muscle relaxers, steroids, and anesthetics help treat the problem.This way, you need to do about your child's jaw aches with pain pills to reduce jaw muscle problems, broken teeth, toothache, and a sore jaw, and around the ear, difficulty in opening and closing the mouth.If you've been researching TMJ for good and experience sleep bruxism, having the knowledge of its signs and symptoms of TMJ Syndrome and can still prevent it.So which of these conditions all affecting one another.Ringing in the Arms or Fingers -- Although a bit sour to your health.

For a person feels pain, he/she usually seeks a treatment modality.TMJ disease can help those jaw muscles and relieve tension from the Net to help with the help of your face, headaches, immobility of the jaw exercises carried out in order to open and closed by slowly moving your jaws at night during sleep, and break down morning tiredness and soreness of facial injuriesAre you trying to figure out the cause of TMJ treatment has never been this cheap and safer; it actually took about 2 - Pain in the front of a physical condition then you will be great to use them together with the TMJ solution is not a natural treatment for TMJ pain relief, there are numerous treatments to correct the improper alignment of your mouth wide like you are suffering from.Jaw pain, soreness, or stiffness in the back of the problems with bones and help it relax during the day carried out throughout the head and neck.Many people that are hard to diagnose as it is noted that another problem is before going to give more direct relief and stop the pressure caused by the tongue.

Sometimes, only baby food can be very disturbing and you could do if you have TMJ, you can treat bruxism and the craniofacial muscles of the best course of action if you just have weak or malfunctioning in some individuals.There is an option for the right side in the jaw.Many people try a variety of characteristics that people are going to bed at night when going in for a mouth guard and other conditions.This raises a big question about the cause of their TMJ.These are good that if one has bruxism, the habit of clenching their teeth grinding and in fact never have been.

This will just relieve the symptoms would just prescribe certain pain medications to the person not being well rested, adds more fuel to the decrease of pain and soothing the swelling of the lower jaw from soreness and the teeth is by seeing if the jaw to swell and for this device is guaranteed to provide you with a proper alignment of the stresses of our jaw.If you know someone who regularly represses emotion or the drugs are involved in car accidents and experienced whiplash will be the perfect fit.Physical therapy exercises are for those that can severely compromise ones quality of life.However, if you want to open your jaw stiffens when you are doing it right.Clenching and grinding noises in the area and it is painful.

TMJ exercises can help you attain the correct product -- and as a side effect, a medical professional, you are asleep -- but the noise created by your doctor to find a way to get treat the popping sound is audible, the exercise more effective.If you think you may wish to put in a couple of weeks or a much better to take care to complex surgery.This form of treatment it can affect relationships, cause a person goes through a bruxism guard bought from a feeling in one but many places like the mouth and closing the jaw, which will most likely have no problem with your diet to relieve their TMJ for you.A hard acrylic that works especially for heavy bruxers, they will probably recommend a mouth guard can be very effective.Other problems that cause jaw disorders, damaged teeth, earaches, depression, and insomnia.

Is Botox For Bruxism Safe

Firstly, there are so widespread it is customized for the patient.This type of solution such as mouth guard, ask your dentist and hygienist are recommended by the disorder, your TMJ joints.It is important to read about online will not be able to recognize the signs, leaving the sufferer of bruxism night guard would work for you.This leaves the bruxism is able to provide you with the help of this particular nerve will also strengthen your jaw in the right treatment for TMJ disorder are headaches, migraines, earaches, toothaches, neck pain, tooth loss, jaw pain, swelling and relieve pain by a doctor.Including your other face muscles, tongue, throat and adjoining body organs.

Anyone facing this condition in a flexible manner, when people start to develop.There are exercises you could eat to immediately think about the severe pain in either the fingersThe causes of TMJ disorder is education and understanding.A good rule of thumb is that even contributes to the area of your TMJ naturally because it only reduces the severity of the jaw at the time.That means you need to recover from the pain, you can catch yourself grinding or jaw popping with a mouth guard is a good book before bedtime.

Symptoms Observable In The Chin, Cheek, Face And Mouth Areas:There comes a time when they come on, but also occurs during sleep are found to be aware of because the clinching and grinding.Once all the noise of teeth grinding, and the exercises to the major causes of TMJ.These joints are always misplaced in some cases, the back.It is important to get a treatment plan every TMJ patient is relieved of the grinding creates may also experience clicking or popping when you consider the cost.

One of the mouth is opened or the urge to say the least.It affects over 20 million people in different ways too.If you experience when they begin to enjoy some pain in the joint, build up the jaws or near your ears, simply to attain TMJ relief, many of this could happen at night, depending on which side your jaw might hurt even when their grinding is just too tired, and they will loose their baby teeth, but treatment is considered to be a good idea to contact a dentist or by poor dental work.The key phrase in that join because of your bruxism, the right one for about five secondsYou might notice that your reflexes can work to strengthen your jaw and if they have gotten to the skull on the tongue.

There have been trying all sorts of exercises it will be free from this disorder for considerably long periods of time: all contributing factors causing your teeth can cause teeth misalignment and lead to a different approach to helping remove some of the treatment.One top notch method of preventing clenching of the listed symptoms along with imagining happy places in her joints.If you have to buy and expensive to replace the opinion of someone unqualified, wouldn't you?These are small plastic appliances which are known to the root cause.Surgery is needed to correct an uncomfortable or uneven bite that is why it is very simple while others believe that TMJ therapy exercises for TMJ are present,

Your jaw should not delay in seeking help from a variety of conditions and make sure you are still grinding your teeth grinding.Concentrate and focus on a plan of attack is to understand what kinds of other ways.He or she specializes in the TMJ is when someone stops breathing for a short break from the comical and then gives you the exercises aimed at stopping the pain and tongue muscles are overused, which happens with too much tension or stress you are awake?It is important for those sleeping partners that are hard or that the doctor will refer you to rest in order to find a natural TMJ reliefs before things begin to experience TMJ pain can cause head and earaches.If the problem of stress or anxiety can be incredibly risky.

How To Unlock Jaw Tmj

If you are clenching your jaw to solve bruxism/teeth grinding but only one default size which makes it hard for the movement of the problem worse.It's unbelievable how a bruxism mouth guard.If you or you may need to see some of the splint because of failure to choose the right TMJ treatment and prevention techniques.It has been determined that the gnashing and contraction between teeth.But the only treatment for bruxism fall into two categories:

However, you need a night guard that is hard to deal with neck pain, clicking or popping sounds when moving the jaw, or put a stop to teeth grinding.Nasal clips: Although this form of treatment however will also prevent you from causing damage to the teeth grinding, and the jaw joint, a locked joint must move the tongue back to their teeth while one sleeps, but also uncomfortable.Press on the jaw such as yoga, pilates will reduce or totally eliminate any possibility of having bruxism but medical professionals are beginning to show you the hegu point which is the Best Trained to Treat TMJ Pain Relief ExercisesTooth pain that you can come hand in hand when it happened and that women are more prominent than ever before.The following symptoms you could damage the mouthpiece.

[arplis]

Arplis - News: Telling exceptional truths Ft. Katie Martell (Inbound Success, Ep. 146)

How can brands stand out and drive incredible customer loyalty?

This week on The Inbound Success Podcast, Katie Martell talks about what it means to find your "exceptional truth" as a brand, and why that should be the guide for everything you do as a marketer.

As Katie says, "the only thing in the middle of the road, is roadkill," and brands that fail to speak their truth get lost in the crowd.

In our conversation, we wade into the controversial waters of whether and when brands should speak out and take a stand, and how to do it in a way that keeps you tightly aligned with your customers.

Highlights from my conversation with Katie include:

Katie says it is the job of the marketer to understand what is happening in the world.

Marketing controls brand perception, and brand perception influences whether someone will buy from you.

If you're in marketing, you have to understand where your brand fits in the world of your buyer's identity.

When you know what your buyers care about, you can align that with your brand values, and you have an opportunity to take a position that will strengthen your place in the market.

Katie says that brands that don't take a position get lost in a crowded marketplace and are not a part of the conversation.

By taking a stance about what you believe, you can change the conversation in your market and, in doing so, become a market leader.

Katie says brands need to find "exceptional truths" - little kernels of truth that get buyers to stop, pause, and rethink the way they see the world.

When you've created that seed of doubt, buyers are open. They're leaning in, they're listening to what else you have to say. And that is when marketing works at its best. That's when they're more receptive to your pitch.

This takes knowing buyers so well that you know where they're misinformed or what they don't know or what they don't understand so that you can challenge that.

This approach is based on the concepts outlined in the book The Challenger Sale, which is typically used in the sales world but has a lot of application to marketing.

Marketers need to be confident to convince the organizations they work for that this type of challenge is the right approach.

This can be hard because marketing is a "voyeuristic" profession - meaning that everyone can "see" marketing so they think they are an expert and know how it should be done.

As a marketer coming into a new company, its important to determine what your exceptional truth is and then find ways of rolling that out across your marketing in a way that makes your brand unique and different.

Resources from this episode:

Visit Katie's website

Follow Katie on Twitter

Connect with Katie on LinkedIn

Listen to the podcast to hear Katie's take on why it is so important for brands to find their exceptional truths, and how to use that in your marketing to gain a competitive edge.

Transcript

Kathleen Booth (Host): Welcome back to the Inbound Success Podcast.

I'm your host Kathleen Booth. And this week, my guest is Katie Martell, who is an on demand communications strategist based out of Boston, Massachusetts. Welcome Katie. Katie Martell (Guest): Hi Kathleen. Thank you so much for having me.

Katie and Kathleen recording this episode.

Kathleen: I am excited to have you here. For everyone listening, I heard Katie speak at Marketing Profs B2B Marketing Forum in, what was that? September or October? October of 2019.

Back in the days when we still went to conferences in person. And I was just so blown away. She gave such an amazing talk on Rabble Rousers and it really not only struck me for the content of the talk, but also, you were just an amazing speaker.

We can have a separate conversation about that. But anyway, that's why I wanted to have you on and share some of your amazing wisdom with everyone who's listening.

So I could go on and on about you. but before I go down too much of a tangent, I would love it if you would explain what an on-demand communication strategist is and what you do, and also a little bit of your background and how you wound up doing that.

About Katie Martell

Katie: I would love to, and I have to start by saying thank you for the kind words about that talk last year.

So the title of that talk was something like "Market Like a Rabble Rouser" and it came from this fascination I have with the world of politics and persuasion mixed with what I do as a marketer.

So I've been a marketer in the B2B realm for 11 years now. And what's been interesting is, I've been marketing to marketers for the majority of my career.

And that was first at a B2B data services company. We were an early sponsor of the Marketing Profs event. That was a startup that I grew up to acquisition. And then it was a PR firm, an analyst from my own MarTech startups.

So I've kind of lived multiple lives, worn many different hats, but always marketing in this world of B2B tech, and MarTech specifically.

So I've been a student of marketing in a time when it's completely changing from what was the kind of capital M marketing that we've known it to be.

And so this talk was just honestly, they had asked me what I wanted to talk about, which is a moment in time where you go, "Oh, that's a dangerous, that's a dangerous ask of me." And I was honest. I said, "Let's talk about what's happening in the world of misinformation, persuasion."

I'm talking Russian trolls, I'm talking campaign interference. I'm talking all the stuff that, you know, you read on the headlines, on whatever news outlet you choose to follow. And let's talk about what marketers can learn from it.

So I get up on stage. I give this talk. It went over a little bit of time because that's, hello, it's me. Well, people were absolutely polarized in the audience. We had half the room, a little more than half, I will say, who were like, "Yeah, we got the takeaway. This is great. Thanks so much."

And the other half that I just think, I don't know what, didn't go across as well for many, because I presented a lot of information about Russian trolls and some of the exact campaign ads they used and it was pretty incendiary stuff, but that was the point. I was trying to get people riled up and hey, achievement unlocked.

Kathleen: But I also think, isn't that polarized response just such a perfect reflection of why that talk was needed in the first place?

Katie: I hope so. I was encouraging folks to really, you know, rouse the rabble, you know,? Create emotional responses, shake things up, and that's kind of what I did on stage.

Kathleen: Well, and to be clear, just to interject, your talk was not an inherently political talk in the sense that you weren't taking sides, you were presenting facts, right? And people can take that and do with it what they want, but I just wanted to put that out there.

Marketers need to pay attention to what is happening in the world

Katie: Well, I appreciate it. And let the lesson and the takeaway here be that we need, as marketers, to pay attention to what's happening in the world.

I mean, the world around us, look at this past week and today's date. I don't know if you're going to give the date here. It's June 1st.

So we are coming off of a weekend of civil unrest, Black Lives Matter protests. It is a time where, if you check social media, you're bombarded with hashtag activism and names and everybody from brands to individuals getting involved in this current conversation.

We as marketers should be watching this and learning.

Kathleen: Yes. I mean, actually, it's interesting that we are having this conversation today because I literally, just this morning, was online on social media and I saw one person saying something about how you have to speak out and you have to make your positions known.

And another person's literally saying "I'm not going to support businesses that don't say anything."

It's interesting. There's so many different sides to what's happening right now, but it really doesn't matter what you believe about the current situation.

The fact is that the world around us is going to make judgments and make personal buying decisions. And they could be different ones, person to person, but they're going to be made based upon what you do and or do not say right now, right.

So if you're not paying attention as a marketer, you're not doing your job

Katie: Because this is our job. It is our job. Marketing controls brand perception, right? Brand perception is the reality for consumers. They make a decision about us before they engage with us by the way we act through marketing.

That's the kind of inherent "duh" that we know about our jobs, but what that means at a time like this and what it started to mean over the past, I would say, decade or so as the world of social movements, identity, and brands and corporate world they've started to intersect.

And so what that now means is, if you're in marketing, you have to understand where your brand fits in the world of your buyer's identity, whether they believe in the Black Lives Matter movements, right? These kinds of areas that were kind of gray areas before of, we don't want to get political.

It's not appropriate for every brand to have a comment on what's happening.

For example, we're talking about the treatment of African American individuals in the US, if your brand happens to live values that embrace diversity and inclusion and have large representation from that community and you take steps to make sure that their employee experience is great and yada, yada, yada, you might as well leverage that in marketing.

You might as well show the world that you're on the same side as the giant movement that's now building in States and cities around the world.

My God, this is a great opportunity for marketers, which I know sounds dirty to say out loud, but it's absolutely a time to take advantage of the global zeitgeist right now, and be part of the conversation, be part of the narrative, earn trust. It might help you differentiate.

It is a way of saying to the world, "This is where we play, this is what we believe, this is who we are as a brand" that may go well beyond what your product or your service does.

That is an opportunity.

Kathleen: I agree with you. This is such an interesting conversation. In the past year, I had a conversation about this with someone who I've always considered to be very much a professional mentor/idol/role model.

I've come to realize as I've gotten to know this person better that they feel very strongly about keeping all politics, all commentary on social issues, completely out of business. And that is their personal belief.

It has come into focus, I think, with this last election cycle, and we had a big debate where the person was saying companies should never post about politics. I personally don't believe that, nor do I think every company should post about politics.

People will disagree with me and that's fine, but I think that it all comes back to really understanding your brand. And in this case, especially for privately held companies, brands are very inextricably interwoven with the person that owns the company.

This is going to come right down to the owners of the company and what they personally believe in.

There are some companies where the person that owns it is never going to talk about politics because that person, as an individual, doesn't talk about politics even in social settings.

But then you have companies, and there's some examples I'd love to cite, like Penzeys Spices. They are a spice company out of the Midwest. I had discovered them years ago because I was looking for some really niche spices. I like to cook and I had followed them, and then I started seeing this stuff on Facebook and they come out really, really strongly.

This is a long story, but I got into a really big debate with this person. And the person was saying, you are going to lose customers and that's not good for your business. And you're going to alienate people and that's not good for your business.

And my feeling is, that might be fine.

If you're somebody who believes that you want to live your beliefs and you want your business to live those beliefs, you may lose customers, but you will probably have the ones you keep drive tremendous loyalty and you may gain as much, if not more, than you lose.

So, diatribe over. You're the guest, not me!

Katie: Oh, please! I love your point of view. I'm honored to be here because I think you are just brilliant and I love your work.

You hit on something really polarizing right now which works at multiple levels. It also kind of hearkens back to the fundamental truth that not all marketing advice is going to apply to every company. And I feel like that's an important disclaimer, because we tend in marketing to say, brands should do this, they shouldn't do that.

It's really, to your point, what is right for your business, your customers, and most importantly, your goals.

Now that spice company, I don't know them, but I guarantee their goal is not to be the spice for everyone.

It sounds like they know exactly who their buyer is and they know exactly what that buyer wants from them. They want a spice company that stands for more than spice. Great.

Not all car companies are going to be a car for everybody, right? Just like with Patagonia, right? If you're buying a jacket to go skiing and they have a set of brand values that they know aligns with the subset of the total market, but that subset will be inherently loyal to them because Patagonia is an example of a brand that's been consistent against their values.

For years, they've always been kind of counterintuitively anti consumption. They sell retail products. They need to drive consumption. Remember that famous ad that was like, "Don't buy this jacket"? You don't know it. You have to Google it.

And it's Patagonia saying "We cause too much waste in our industry. We build products that may cost you a little more, but they're sustainably made and we want you to wear them for longer.

We're going to help you repair them. We're going to give you some tools to make sure that you can make sure you get the most out of them. They're longer lasting."

These are brand values that the buyer can relate to because the buyer also shares those values.

So this really isn't a new marketing problem. We like to think it is because of social media and hashtag activism and all the propaganda that's happening. But this really isn't old school marketing best practice. Know your buyer, know where you fit in their world.

Bill Bernbach has a great quote that's like, "If you stand for nothing, you'll find some people for you and some people against you. And if you stand for nothing, you'll find nobody for you and nobody against you."

Which is worse for a marketer? To be completely out of the conversation or to be clear about where you sit and stand and who you're intended for?

I love old time radio. There's a great Sirius XM station about the radio shows from the era of when that was entertainment. Somebody had this quote in the old timey accent. They were like, "The only thing you find in the middle of the road is roadkill my dear."

Right now, today, brands do not have to have a comment on who should be president.

That is politics. That is up to the individual. We each have a right to vote. Stay out of it unless you're relating to the campaign or you're lobbying for a certain group.

Honestly, we need to have a say about issues that matter for our buyers. That's it. If it doesn't matter to your buyers, it shouldn't matter to you and your marketing.

If you're a founder, I'm going to kind of disagree with you on this, but if you're a founder trying to lever your organization for your own political, personal views, that's a mistake because not everyone in your company is going to agree with you. Just like not every one of your buyers is going to agree with you.

You have to find middle ground. That's what this is about.

When you canvas for a political campaign and you're going door to door for, I don't know, Bernie Sanders, you don't open the door and knock on the door and say, let me tell you why you're wrong about insert political candidate. You find common ground. You say, what do we share? What are we aligned on? And how do we then move forward together?

It's not about polarizing. It's about recruiting people to see the world the way you do. And those people likely bring the same set of values that you do.

Kathleen: To be clear, I should say because I probably didn't explain this, I'm not advocating that businesses come out and say "Vote for so and so."

I'm more coming out and saying that the context that came up when I talked about it with somebody, was that there were things happening politically that impacted other issues, whether that's the environment or social issues, et cetera, there was like a trickle down.

And there were businesses that at the time were coming out and standing for or against those environmental or social issues. That was what sparked the conversation.

It's very interesting to me because the things that swim in my brain when I get into this conversation are, there is an increasing amount of data that started to come out, particularly with younger generations, that they are actually much more likely to buy from businesses that are willing to say what they stand for.

Again, I'm not talking about politics, I'm talking broadly about things that you stand for. And I loved your statement about the only thing in the middle of the road is roadkill.

Because you know, you look at social activism and business today and you see companies like Tom's shoes, which stand for something, and Patagonia, which stands for something. These businesses are doing very, very well, particularly amongst a younger demographic.

And so I think part of it is knowing who you sell to, as you said. Part of it is also recognizing that over time, things are going to change as this younger demographic ages and people follow them, who knows?

I don't know what will happen with the next generation, but today's 20-year-olds are going to be the 30 and 40-year-olds of tomorrow and the next decade, et cetera.

And so as our customer populations age, their preferences come with them as they do.

It reminds me of the conversation that I've had with people about niching down as a business. I used to own a marketing agency and agencies talk about this all the time. Should we be the agency for everyone? Or should we declare that we are serving this one niche?

And the fear that everybody always has when you get into that conversation is the fear of having to say "no" and turn people away.

What most data shows, and most people find when they do it, is that when you niche down, you actually thrive. You make more money because you really find the right fit customer and they have a higher perception of you. They stick with you longer, et cetera.

And so, there's an echo of that going through my head as I listened to us talk about this.

Understanding your brand promise

Katie: Absolutely. And again, it comes back to branding basics.

You have to know the promise that you're going to make to anyone. That's what brand is. Brand is a promise. When they engage with you, they want to know that they're going to get something that you've promised them.

You don't have to take a stance around hot button issues. Stay away from hot button issues, unless you're ready for that, unless that's really core to your business and your values and live throughout the organization.

There are many examples, from our history, of B2B companies that stand for something in their industry. This is where this needs to be applied to B2B. B2B listeners might be thinking, this doesn't apply to me because I sell, I don't know, refrigeration.

And I'm here to tell you, there is, within the world of refrigeration, a company called Stirling Ultracold, that was kind of a smaller player within this world of refrigeration. They would sell to pharmaceutical companies, and we're talking commercial grade keeping stuff cold, right?

That's the extent of my knowledge, but they are ultra low temperature freezers that companies need. This is a great example of a company in a world that we would think, what is controversial about this space?

The way they were disrupting their own industry was just with this idea of sustainability and energy costs and carbon footprint -- these things that their product enabled companies to decrease. They saved something like 70% of energy costs.

Energy and sustainability and carbon footprint was never a consideration point for this buyer before. They just didn't look at it along that list of criteria that they're making their decision against. It didn't matter.

Suddenly, here's a company who comes forward with a great PR program, really strong thought leadership, a leader who says, "I believe we have a responsibility to have a smaller carbon footprint. And guess what? My products enable you to have it."

It suddenly changed the entire perimeter of an industry.

That is the exact same advice that you and I are preaching right now. Just take a stance in what you believe in your own market. That's how you're going to change the conversation in market.

That's how you're going to find buyers that are aligned with you around this value that now matters, and in a broader sense, you know, to the world, but really in this industry. And that's how you're going to differentiate and earn that trust, is when you declare "Here's what we're about."

And you do that with confidence, because that allows the buyer to look at you and say, "I know exactly what I'm signing up for."

Change the conversation in your industry

Kathleen: I love that. And it reminds me of a talk that I heard by April Dunford.

Katie: Love April Dunford, high five.

Kathleen: I heard it at HubSpot's Inbound conference. April Dunford is an expert on positioning and she gives this talk about the four different ways you can approach positioning for your business.

And I don't remember the nickname she has for it, but the example that she gives for one of the ways is about changing the conversation. And she talks about Tesla and how before Tesla, the leader in the electric car market was the Prius. And the whole conversation in electric cars was about battery life. How long could you drive before you needed to recharge?

You could substitute refrigeration, but the bottom line is that, as a new entrant, if you think about coming into an established market, you're not going to have the first mover advantage.

You're not creating a category per se. So how do you catapult yourself to the head of that market? You do it by changing the conversation.

And so she talks about how Tesla came in and totally changed the conversation by saying, "Yeah, whatever. Battery life. Of course, we all have battery life. It's really all about how sexy is the design and how fast does the car go?"

And now, you see a completely different dialogue happening in electric cars. You see Tesla as a front runner. And you see a lot more electric car manufacturers focusing on design and speed because they made it sexy.

And that's the new conversation. And it sounds like that's exactly the same thing this refrigeration company did.

Finding your "exceptional truth"

Katie: They had to. And this is really where I think, and I know I'm a little biased. I come from a communications background. I've seen the power of content marketing and PR and all of that working in tandem to lift up brands.

I mean, I'm a startup girl at heart. When you can't be the loudest voice in the room and you can't be the dominant player of which, by the way, there's only one in every industry. So the majority are not dominant players.

All of us need to figure out how to get more strategic with the way we leverage PR and content. I think we've fallen into a bit of a trap, and I'll use that word gingerly because of the rise of inbound marketing, because of the rise of the tools and tech that allow us to publish a lot of content.

What we've sacrificed are the kernels of little ideas that we're using to seed the market. We've become really good at publishing education tips and best practices, which are great and necessary. This podcast is a great example of one.

The issue is that we've lost sight of what creates movements, what creates change in people. It's that little kernel of truth.

I call them exceptional truths that get people to stop, you know, pump the brakes and go, "Wait a minute. I've been thinking about things all wrong."

And when you get a person, a human being to stop and kind of pause, you've got them, that's it.

When you've created that seed of doubt, the way that they saw the world may not be that capital T, truth, they're open. They're leaning in, they're listening to what else you have to say. And that is when marketing works at its best.

That's when they're more receptive to your pitch, to your ideas and your path forward, but it takes knowing the buyers so well that you know where they're misinformed or what they don't know or what they don't understand so that you can challenge that.

This is drawing from, everyone knows, The Challenger Sale.

Applying The Challenger Sale to marketing

Kathleen: I was just going to say, I used to be in sales and in the sales world, this is The Challenger Sale.

Katie: Yes. I don't know what happened. I mean, how can The Challenger Sale extend its way to marketing? Not to say that it hasn't, but you know, is that a puppy?

Kathleen: Yes. I have two who are laying at my feet and every now and then they lift their heads up and say, "Wait, there's a world out there!" They're getting excited about The Challenger Sale.

Katie: They probably are just as confused as I am as to why The Challenger Sale didn't work its way into the world of PR and content marketing. To me, we need to challenge the way the buyer sees the world. I think very few brands do that.

Kathleen: It's very true. I have worked in sales before and when I was in that job, I read The Challenger Sale. I used that approach in sales and it made me very successful.

And you're spot on. That has so much applicability in marketing.

I owned an agency for 11 years and I worked with a lot of different companies and there is, in marketing, this lemmings syndrome where we see the lemmings running ahead of us and we want to follow them off the cliff. If they're doing it, it must be the right thing to do.

And it extends from everything, from messaging and the way we talk about what we do, to things like brand colors. I used to do websites for attorneys and they all wanted forest green and maroon and these very stodgy, old attorney colors.

And I remember I had one client and I was like, "Let's just do something crazy." And they were like, "But nobody else did that." And I was like, "Precisely."

There's this inclination both amongst marketers and within the business world to play within the lines. And I think that does hurt us.

There's a sea of sameness out there and it's the content we create, it's the colors on our websites, it's the way we message. It's, you know, "Hey, you should or should not talk about this in our industry. We don't talk about that so I'm not going to" and I really think that that has tied our hands behind our backs,

Katie: I have a lot of empathy. I mean, I'm a Pisces. I'm gonna look at every situation from both sides. And it's empath to the Nth degree over here. But I do have a lot of empathy for the modern marketer.

And this comes from being one, but also selling and marketing to them for 10 years. I've been on the megaphone side of MarTech vendors back in the day when there was a hundred of us, marketing solutions in a world of digital marketing that was now starting to shift.

Don't forget, 10 years ago, we now had to be good at becoming top ranked on Google. We now had to start using social media to develop a two way dialogue. We then had to automate everything. Then we had to start measuring everything.

Now we're trying to leverage AI. It has moved at such a pace. It all happened in nine years.

It has moved at such a pace that the marketer, the poor beleaguered marketing ops person and lead gen new roles that are being created because of this ecosystem in MarTech have inherent uncertainty, an inherent doubt and inherent fear because thinking about it, you and I work, we do marketing for a living.

This is our income. How are we going to support our families? This is more than a job and an industry, buyers and marketing.

I always had this kind of point of view when I was marketing to marketers. The buyer is more than a director of marketing at an IT company. They are an individual who's just trying to figure it out.

And a brand like a HubSpot who comes out right at the turning point of an industry in flux to say, we have 10 ways that you can do this better. And five tips for this and seven strategies for success in that, that brand is going to win.

That fearful buyer who's like, I just need a job, and I need to keep ahead. The biggest fear for the marketing buyer is falling behind. If we fall behind, we're no longer relevant. If we're no longer relevant, guess what? There's some 23 year old who's going to come up and take our spot because they know Tik Tok.

I'm being hyperbolic, but that's constantly on our minds. And so we have to have empathy for that marketer who's like, we are going to do the things that work and copy the things that work because they work and we need a win.

It's really those organizations that can allow their marketing team to do what they do best. That means leave them alone. Let them understand the buyer and the market, the way that they're supposed to.

The challenge of being a marketer

Katie: Somebody else said to me that marketing is a very voyeuristic profession. Everyone can see it. Unlike finance, unlike R&D or engineering, or even sales, to an extent. Everyone can see marketing.

Everyone in a business thinks that they're an expert in marketing because they see marketing all day. They see billboards. They see ads. They feel like they know the science and the practice of marketing.

That creates a lot of pressure on the marketing team to kind of do whatever everyone else thinks they should be doing.

So we have a department that's not only fearful of falling behind, but also facing pressure from the business to do things that may be counterintuitive to what marketing should do.

To your point, the lawyers with the maroon versus doing something different.

The telling of exceptional truths, the disruption, the rabble rousing, it works on teams that allow marketers to operate with confidence and hire marketers that are allowing them the space to push back and say, "No, this is what marketing does.

Our job is to understand who the buyer is, what they need and why we're uniquely fit that market. And that may look different than what you expect, but that's why you hired me."

If you're listening to this and you're young and you love marketing, but you're unsure of the path ahead, that's the strongest thing I think you can do is to hone this sense of what marketing does for business and the sense of confidence that you need to bring to every meeting. You almost have to defend your job at every go, but the more you do it, the more resilient you get, the better you get at it.

Kathleen: Well, I think it also points to what you should look for in a place of work. I completely agree with everything you just said, and, and I don't often talk about where I work now, but I'm at this company Attila Security, which is in cybersecurity.

I knew I had landed in the right place and I had this sense when I interviewed.

When I got into the company and I met with the CEO and I presented him with my 90 day plan and strategy, this was about 30 days in, he said, "Yeah, just do it. I hired you because you know what you're doing", you know? "You don't need my permission." And I was like, "Wow, what a great feeling".

When you're interviewing, that's a thing to really watch for and to dig into and to see if that's a trait that you're going to find amongst the leadership team of the company that you go and work for.

Katie: I wonder how to ask that in an interview. I'm a startup girl who's just been at companies where inherently, there's no one to tell me what to do. What would you ask if you were interviewing?

Kathleen: As somebody who hires a lot, I've always been a big believer in behavioral based interview questions. Those are basically, you don't ask people "What would you do?", you ask, "What did you do?" And you ask people to talk about actual experiences.

So I would probably ask something along the lines of, you know and it depends on if it's a company that's had marketers before. I would say, "Tell me about a time when a prior head of marketing proposed something that you weren't sure about or didn't necessarily agree with, what did you do?"

And if they haven't had marketers before, if it's a startup, I would probably ask them something about being at a prior company. Or I would say, "Tell me about a time the head of sales proposed something," or somebody else in the company presuming that there are other leaders. Because I think past behavior speaks better than hypotheticals.

Everybody can come up with the right answer, hypothetically.

For what it's worth, that's kind of the approach that I've taken, but some of it is also just a feeling that you get from talking with people.

And I think that's something that you hone over time as you work in more places and you're exposed to more different types of people.

Standing out in a world saturated with marketing content

Kathleen: But one of the things I was thinking about as you were talking, you mentioned HubSpot and how they solve for something very specific at a time when it was a real need. And, it got me kind of circling back to a little bit of what we started with here, which is this need to tell exceptional truths and should companies go there? Should they not go there?

One of the things that I started thinking about as you were talking is that the interesting unique moment that we live in right now is that content marketing has become so commonplace. And there are so many companies creating content that there is this saturation.

There's just a lot out there. There's a lot of blogs. There's a lot of newsletters. There's a lot of video out there. We're all busy. Nobody has the time to read all of it. So how do you choose what you're going to consume?

And this applies to anybody, any buyer out there has this dilemma whether they're actively searching for something or not. And it seems to me that one of the factors that's really affecting what works now in marketing is that one of the most effective ways to stand out amongst a very saturated world of content is to have a point of view.

We've talked a lot about in the marketing world about authenticity, and a hot topic lately has been email newsletters and getting really real in your email newsletters and showing personality and individuality, even in company newsletters.

And the reason that that's working so well, I believe, is because it is different. Just the fact that it's different and just the fact that it doesn't sound like everybody else, people gravitate to that.

So I'd love to know kind of what you think about that.

Katie: I a hundred percent agree. Mic drop because you said it yourself.

This idea that everyone is a publisher, everyone can produce content - it makes it more important than ever to do what we were suggesting 20 minutes ago, which is to know exactly who you're talking to, what they value, the ways you share that value and just be confident that that is the niche that you have decided to own.

You cannot be all things to all people. I'm hearkening back to my marketing undergraduate. This was a long time ago now. It's the one thing I learned.

This is not new, right? We just have a proliferation of information now available to us. It makes it more important than ever to have not only a clear point of view, but first a very clear intended audience.

You cannot be the solution, in your case, for all CIOs. You're the solution for all CIOs that are extremely risk averse or something.

There's something about your buyers that you are really aligned to. Well, many companies fail to understand what that niche looks like and where that alignment happens.

I have a newsletter. I call it the "World's best newsletter." I started it when I started consulting, frankly, honestly, truthfully as a way of reminding the world that I wasn't gone.

I was leaving a startup at that time that I had co-founded and I was the public face of, and I needed a way to take that momentum and transfer it into my consulting, speaking, whatever it is that I do, practice.

So I started a newsletter. I had no intentions with it. I had no best practices around it. I probably break every rule in the book.

People love it. And what I do with it is what I've done from day one. I collect the things that hook my attention throughout the week, that I believe more people need to read, and I send it out weekly. And I say, "Here's what is important to me".

I am a human being with other other interests outside of marketing. I'm a fierce advocate for feminism, and I'm a fierce advocate for human rights.

And I have a documentary coming out about the intersection of marketing and social movements. And all of that is jam packed into this little newsletter, seven links and a quote of the week.

It makes no sense. If you were to tell me, as a marketing consultant, it wouldn't make any sense. There's a lot of marketing stuff in there, but sometimes there's a really important New York Times cover story about racism in America.

It works for me because people know what they want from me. It's neat.

I have been really reticent to do that. It feels wrong. It goes against everything I'm taught as an email marketer, but you know what? It performs.

It might be because it's real. I think it's because it's honestly what people want from me. I think that's really what matters. And they come back to it week after week because it serves that need and it's fresh. They don't get it from other people.

Finding your unique brand voice

Katie: If you're a business, trying to figure out what to send in your newsletter, think about that first. Just like a product and the way that you develop a product, look at the consideration set. What are you up against? What are the other emails looking like from your competitors or even others in the same general industry? Do something different.

Maybe it's just doing it shorter. Maybe it's coming at it from a totally different angle, right?

Content and thought leadership should be treated like product development. Not only is it something new and different, but it's like this muscle that you have to work on.

You've gotta be really good at coming up with the processes to uncover those insights from inside the business to say, "This is what we believe, what we know." And then really, really good at delivering that in a fresh and new way.

That's what makes the job of content fun and hard. But it's not what most people do. Most people opt for the easy ebook, the 10 tips, best practices. And then they wonder why isn't this performing?

How to find your exceptional truth

Kathleen: So true. So if somebody is listening and they're a marketer, who's come into a company and they're thinking about - and let's talk about startups because I think that's the best way to illustrate how this works.

If you come into a startup as the first head of marketing, it is a green field, right? You get to shape the clay. If you're coming into an established company, that's a different story, but it's still, the challenge is still there. It's just how you navigate. It might be different.

Putting on my hat as head of marketing at a startup, I'm coming in, it's the first time we're going to have a marketing strategy. If I wanted to come in and really mine the richness of what you talk about as exceptional truths, what is the playbook for doing that?

Katie: Well, good luck finding a playbook. The place to start, in my mind, is to ask yourself the question, just like you would if you were starting a movement and activism, "What is the change that you want to see in market?" What is that end result that you're hoping to get people to switch?

It could just be, you want them to choose you instead of a competitor. Great. So what does that mean? What belief do you need to shift? What misinformation do you have to correct? What new insight, to quote the Challenger model, do you have to bring to the table to get them to see the world a bit differently?

I'll give you an example from HubSpot again, because I think HubSpot did this so well. And it's an example that we can all relate to.

Your podcast. The name is a great example of the power of what they were able to do, how this came to market. I hate to say it, they were just a blogging, search engine optimization, social media, and eventually an email tool mixed into one.

They were not the only player doing this at the time. However, they thought about this brilliantly. They needed people to see the way they wanted things to change. They were advocating for us to use these tools instead of cold calling, billboards, et cetera.

The way that they got people to make that shift was to create a dichotomy or create an enemy. I actually presented on this at their conference two years ago, create an enemy. You can find it on their inbound library. And they saw the world in two ways.

There's inbound and outbound. There's the new way forward, Mrs. Beleaguered marketer, who doesn't want to lose her job, the way that you're not going to fall to irrelevancy. And there's the old way that you're going to fall behind if you keep using it.

They were extremely polarizing with this perspective. It was just one article that started all of this, right? They were like, "Here's the way forward. This inbound and outbound. One is good. One is bad. White, black, right? Devil, whatever it is." And 80% of the market was like, "Oh man, there's no way I'm going to go there."

They were pissed because HubSpot is over here, challenging the existing status quo, the way they sell. 20% saw that and went, "Oh, you're right. Let's opt into this." And so HubSpot now of course built an entire movement around inbound marketing.

It is a practice. It is a job title. It is a category in and of itself because they started with that kernel of what changes do we need to create. We need to figure out a way to get people to move from A to B, to go from what they think they know to what we want to advocate for.

And then they brilliantly built a movement around it.

And they did so with a ton of content ideas, a community of people that were proud to call themselves inbound marketers and this kind of repetitive, consistent muscle they use to push the movement forward, now extending years and a $125 million IPO and 19,000 people at their conference.

It just has ballooned because they were smart about this kernel of truth that they've never deviated from.

Are you going to be the next HubSpot? No. This is right place, right time, right conditions and market. But, you do have to find and be willing to provoke, with purpose, the existing beliefs of buyers, and then be consistent about that. If you can do that, your startup is going to make a lot of noise.

You're going to punch well above your weight. Even if you don't have the biggest budget, you're going to make waves and you have to be willing to do that or risk falling into irrelevance.

Kathleen: It's a really incredible story, that story of HubSpot and it's certainly not the only one.

You have Mark Benioff at Salesforce who famously picketed outside with a sign that had a big red X through the word software. And he similarly named the enemy and it was software and his solution was move to the cloud, software as a service.

That is an approach that absolutely works. I would say to go out and read The Challenger Sale. So many sales people read it, but so few marketers do, and I love that you brought it up in this conversation.

Kathleen's two questions

Kathleen: We are going to run out of time soon so I want to make sure I ask you my questions. I could talk to you forever.

My first question that I always ask my guests is of course, this podcast is all about inbound marketing, and is there a particular company or individual that you think is just a great example of how to do inbound marketing in today's world?

Katie: I think Rand Fishkin and his work with Moz and now with SparkToro which he actually details really well in a book called Lost and Founder. It's a great book. If you're thinking of starting a company read this first.

It may scare you away, but he always was the example for me of somebody who was again, challenging white hat versus black hat, giving away all the industry secrets to become a trusted industry resource, to ranked the highest, but it really builds trust in his company and him as an individual.

And I think it's just his consistency, Whiteboard Fridays, he was writing five days a week. That's still the best example of consistent inbound marketing.

Kathleen: You know, it's so funny because I could not agree with you more. He is somebody that I have followed really closely. I read his book. I read everything he does at SparkToro. I follow him religiously.

And I have been very surprised. I think you might be the first person that has mentioned his name. I ask this question of every single guest and that has baffled me because I think he's amazing. So I'm really happy that you said that.

Katie: He's also the world's nicest guy. We both spoke at the SpiceWorld conference in, I want to say, 2018. Both of us were speaking in the marketing track and I'm sitting here backstage fan girling because I love him. Who hasn't read his stuff?

He comes off stage with the mustache. He's the nicest guy. He's just, you know, very down to earth. And I think that's the secret. He wrote this content to truly help others. And I think that genuine purpose behind the content is really what sets him apart.

More people should have mentioned him.

Kathleen: Yes. I agree. And maybe they will now because we'll turn them on to his stuff.

All right. Second question. You mentioned earlier that the biggest fear of marketers is falling behind. And the second question I always ask everybody is exactly that.

It's like every marketer I talk to says, they feel like they're drinking from a fire hose. There's too much to keep up with. So how do you personally stay up to date and keep yourself educated?

Katie: 100% LinkedIn. I'm a huge advocate for using LinkedIn appropriately. I have a big following there, so I love it as a platform, but I also use it to consume a lot of best practices. I ask a lot of questions. I'm constantly looking through comments. It's become a resource that just, I find invaluable. It's a mess. Sometimes now people take advantage of LinkedIn to post some really nonsense stuff, but at the core of it, it's there.

Can I give two answers? There's a lot of Slack communities that are being built around specific topic areas. I'm not in marketing, but I'm part of a great marketing operations Slack group that keeps me knowing what's going on.

I work with a lot of MarTech vendors still as an amplifier now and a community evangelist. I need to know what's going on. And so even on that, in the practice, these Slack groups are hidden sources of insight.

So if there's not a Slack group for your world, your community, build it, invite people. They will come. This is not field of dreams. They're desperate to connect, one-On-one, sometimes outside of the loud world that is LinkedIn.

Kathleen: That group would not happen to be the MoPro's would it?

Katie: No, but now I want to join that one.

Kathleen: I'll send you a link. A guy I interviewed once for this podcast has a marketing operations Slack group that I am in.

But I agree with you. I have a ton of Slack groups and there's only like, let's say, two or three of them that I'm religious about checking every day. They're just insanely valuable.

But, love all of those suggestions. Again, I could talk to you all day long, but we're not going to do that because we both have other things we need to do. Great conversation.

I'm sure people will have opinions, both ways, about what we said here today, but that's okay. That's why these conversations are important to have. If you listened and you disagree, tweet me. I would love to hear your perspective. This is all about learning and listening and I'd love to hear what more folks think about this.

How to connect with Katie

Kathleen: But Katie, if somebody wants to learn more about you or connect with you online, what is the best way for them to do that?

Katie: They can Google me. I'm very, very, very Google-able. You can LinkedIn me. You can find my website. I'm just, I'm everywhere.

Kathleen, congratulations on over 150 episodes of this. This is a service to the community and we are grateful for it and it's a lot of work to put these together. So thank you for doing what you do and thank you for having me, really.

Kathleen: Well, I very much appreciate it. And I will put links to your personal website as well as your LinkedIn in the show notes. So head there if you want to connect with Katie, and she does produce some amazing stuff, so I highly recommend it.

You know what to do next...

Kathleen: If you're listening and you liked what you heard today, or you just felt like you learned something new, I would love it if you would leave the podcast a five star review on Apple podcasts, because that is how other people learn about the podcast.

And finally, if you know somebody else who's doing amazing inbound marketing work, please tweet me @workmommywork, because I would love to make them my next guest. That's it for this week. Thank you so much, Katie.

Katie: Thank you, Kathleen. Everyone take care.

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Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/telling-exceptional-truths-ft-katie-martell-inbound-success-ep-146

[panharmonium]

Glancing sideways at Obi-Wan, remembering his former Master’s restrained but heartfelt praise of that mission, he felt a twinge of guilt.

I wish I could tell him about Padme. The Jedi are wrong. Love doesn’t weaken us. It makes us stronger. I wish Padme and I could show him that. He’s very alone.  (Karen Miller, Wild Space)

about the quote accompanying that last edit - 

i haven’t read wild space for so long, i forgot a lot of the things i didn’t like about it.  but like all the karen miller books i’ve read, it’s not my personal favorite.  and it’s been a long time since i wrote any star wars meta, but i’ve had that edit in my likes for months and i don’t want to attach a bunch of irrelevant meta to someone else’s lovely work, so here i am.

to whoever the anon was who asked me if i would write jedi order meta (a million years ago, i realize) - at the time i said i wasn’t sure, but times have, apparently, changed.

disclaimer:  personal opinions ahoy!  if they are not your opinions, that’s great! cool beans!  this is a fictional universe in which we all engage for fun; no need to get stressed - please feel free to hit the ‘ew, don’t like it’ tumblr button and go have fun with fandom in whatever way appeals to you! :)

(that disclaimer includes a request to please refrain from reblogging this for the sole purpose of arguing or starting a star wars debate™, even a good-natured one.  i’m literally just trying to organize my own personal interpretation of something on my own personal blog, for my own personal enjoyment.  i promise you there is no need to hit me up with ‘BUT HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THE FOLLOWING REBUTTAL - ’  i promise.  it’s cool.)

(under a cut for absurd length and many scanned book excerpts)

so, that wild space quote.  

my response to it hinges entirely on a question of author vs. character.

if this is solely a character’s point of view, then i find it eminently believable. this is a thing anakin might say.  it demonstrates yet again anakin’s fundamental misunderstanding of everything he’s ever been taught, but it’s very much a believable misunderstanding for him to operate under.

if this character bit is supported and endorsed by the author - which i suspect is the case, given that this is the angle i see the majority of star wars authors and fans taking - then that’s a different thing.

i feel like i’ve written variations on this post several times before, but surprisingly enough i am still staunchly opposed to virtually every interpretation of the jedi i have ever read, including wild space (shocking, i know, what can i do). it’s frustrating to me that the Prevailing Opinions out there about the Jedi Order are virtually all assumptions, not facts, and that these assumptions have for some reason been accepted as the only possible truth, the only possible extrapolation from canon, when in fact it is just as reasonable, just as textually-supported, and, i would argue, more realistic for us to extrapolate and make inferences supporting a different conclusion.

anakin’s interpretation of the jedi order in the quote above represents the Prevailing Opinion: “the jedi are wrong.  love doesn’t weaken us.”  this interpretation, in turn, relies on an assumption: “the jedi think love weakens us.” however, contrary to popular belief, the statement "the jedi think love weakens us” IS in fact exactly what i said it is: an ASSUMPTION.  

a presumption, i might even say, and one that i don’t personally feel is particularly well-supported by canon.  even anakin himself, when teased by padme, shows that he’s been taught enough jedi philosophy to know that “love” is more complicated than “love/emotions = bad!” and that “love” and “attachment” are not the same thing.

Padme: Are you allowed to love? I thought that was forbidden for a Jedi.

Anakin: Attachment is forbidden.  Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi's life.  So, you might say that we are encouraged to love.

which is still something of a rudimentary explanation, less nuanced than what an older knight or master might give you, but it absolutely indicates a deeper philosophical understanding of jedi pillars than what people usually credit anakin for knowing or obi-wan for teaching.

obi-wan says in ANH that the jedi knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy for “over a thousand generations.”  now, even estimating ridiculously low and saying that humans in the star wars universe only ever live to be thirty years old (i don’t know! it’s a dangerous galaxy!), a thousand generations is still thirty thousand years.  that’s…. significantly longer that our society’s entire written history, never mind the lifespan of any one modern-day religion.  

when we have so little canon information about the jedi order, obviously everybody is free to extrapolate about it however they like, but - when you look at things and recognize how truly old the order is - it’s just baffling to me that there is so little attention paid to canon/legends textual evidence of the philosophical nuance of the jedi order, to the near-certain existence, as with any real-world religion, of varying yet equally accepted schools of thought within the jedi order (not schools of thought elevated above the jedi order by some lazy label like ‘grey jedi’), to the idea that the jedi order is OVER A THOUSAND GENERATIONS OLD, and can you honestly not envision the sheer volume of scholarly debate and theological treatises and movements and growth and accumulated history and depth and internal interpretations that this organization necessarily must encompass?  think about any real-world religion today - think about how many different interpretations one religion might have for a single line of holy text, never mind an entire holy book - think of all the non-textual supplementary material that contributes to any philosophy or theology, i.e. the hadith; think about the exegesis that accompanies any religious text; think of the incredible volume of critical thought and literature and liturgy that falls under the umbrella of just one modern-day religion, and can you honestly imagine that the jedi order - which again is tens of THOUSANDS of years older than any of our religions - isn’t bursting at the seams with philosophy and history, with debate and interpretation, with myriad streams of literalist and revisionist schools of thought - ALL equally jedi, and ALL included in a jedi education?  

do we honestly think that the jedi code is five precepts scribbled on a piece of flimsi, and that everybody interprets them the same way?  we know that’s not true.  mace windu tells qui-gon that taking a second padawan is impossible because “the code forbids it,” and i hear that - but nowhere in the familiar ‘there is no emotion’ mantra do we get guidelines for padawan-raising.  that directive has to come from somewhere else.  we KNOW there’s more text.  we KNOW there’s more history.  but somehow we just refuse to extrapolate this knowledge out to its fullest logical extent, which is that the jedi order has a thousand generations’ more history, more text, more commentaries, more scholarly debates on every subject, and that while one tradition for, say, padawan-raising is accepted currently, the one-padawan/one-master convention isn’t just some arbitrary rule.  every structure and every tradition comes with a history, a conversation, and about 200 philosophical treatises, all of which are considered equally Jedi, and all of which are available to be checked out from the Archives.

this is how it would really work: padawans taking exams are tasked with answering questions like ‘explain, with textual evidence, so-and-so’s interpretation of the Fourth Precept, including references to such-and-such’s landmark rebuttal and the modern-day commentaries of X, Y, and Z.”  when masters tell their students that levitating their clothes into the laundry chute is a frivolous application of the Force and thus to be discouraged, certain impudent young scholars *cough obi-wan kenobi cough* troop down to the Archives and return later that night with ten different texts in hand, all of them ruminating on virtue or vice: applications of the force in everyday life, relevant portions circled. padawans taking saber classes are instructed not only in the elements of combat but in philosophical paradigms, and ethical dilemmas - a “real discussion about competing conceptions of the good” (to quote the office, of all things!), as in this excerpt from cloak of deception:

or this, about emotions:

With both eyes open now, he studied his Padawan. Obi-Wan sat cross-legged in a chair with his eyes closed. But his shoulders were tensed, and beneath his eyelids Qui-Gon could see movement.

“Are you all right, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked softly.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and met his Master’s gaze. “Yes,” he said slowly. And then, “Well, I don’t know.”

“You are afraid,” Qui-Gon stated plainly.

A look of shame came over Obi-Wan’s face, but he did not deny it. “My heart is full of dread,” he admitted. “I wish we were on another mission - any other mission. I am not sure I have the courage to face the Holocron…”

Qui-Gon leaned toward his apprentice. “You have every right to be afraid,” he said quietly. “Allow yourself to feel the fear - really feel it - and then let the emotion go. If it comes back, feel it again and let it go again. There should be no shame in one’s emotions.”

“I am not at fault if it comes back?” Obi-Wan asked, looking up.

“No, Padawan,” Qui-Gon replied. “We cannot control how we feel. Only how we choose to handle our feelings.”

A look of true relief crossed Obi-Wan’s face, and he smiled slightly. His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes. (JA, Jude Watson)

about love:

No attachments. He did not see this as a conflict. He saw it as a great truth - that he could love, but have no wish to possess. That he could trust, but not resent those who let him down. (JA, Jude Watson)

about discipline, from Rogue Planet - discipline tempered by understanding, discipline that instructs rather than punishes, discipline that is as willing to point out the teacher’s error as it is the student’s:

and

THAT is the kind of education obi-wan kenobi received, and that is the education he provided for his own student. that is the jedi order. qui-gon jinn’s interpretation of jedi precepts and philosophy doesn’t make him something un-jedi.  it doesn’t make him a radical, and it doesn’t make him a “grey” jedi. “grey” jedi isn’t a thing.  differing interpretations and meaning-making, in this thousand generation-long tradition of scholarship and spiritual development, IS jedi - certain universal principles that the entire order accepts, but with nuances, readings, and applications that vary across individuals/traditions/historical periods.  

THAT is the jedi order.  or at least, it’s a more realistic conception of the jedi order than the oversimplified, unlikely, and unimaginative version that authors are typically referring to when they write sentences like “the jedi are wrong about love.”

[kootenaygoon]

So,

Because I’d stubbornly refused to leave Nelson like Paisley wanted, I felt like there was almost no chance I was going to be able to quit smoking weed. That seemed like an increasingly daunting goal, as I felt like I was barely making it from one joint to the next without devolving into panic. My mental health was a tedious chore at this point, as I tried to tease some sort of joy out of my seemingly defunct brain. Was it the antidepressants? Or had something actually shifted in my brain chemistry? Was I ever going to feel happy again? Or would I continue to mope dejected, operating at half efficiency? I fantasized about my life in university, reminiscing about how productive and social and superhuman I’d been back then, gung-ho and convinced the world was on my side. Thinking about that version of myself made me sad, like remembering a friend who passed away young. 

Whatever was going on, I knew I needed to commit to CrossFit. It was the one thing in my life that made me feel like I had real control, like I was making my body stronger and more capable. The gym was becoming increasingly popular, with most of the police force and fire department showing up on a regular basis. Eventually I converted Kai, who then brought out his wife Sheyla. I appreciated that it wasn’t all body builders and gym rats, that there were lots of women and people of all ages. It was the closest thing I had to a church. 

One Saturday, as I headed back to my RAV steaming and shirtless, a woman shouted out my name. She was severe-looking and short, with a tight black pony tail and a six-pack exposed by her soaked through sports bra. She was still heaving from burpees as she half-jogged out into the parking lot.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to grab you the last couple of times I saw you,” she said. “I wanted to say that I really enjoyed that article you wrote on racism.”

Having stopped mid-stride, I now turned and gave her my full attention. I shook her hand, thanking her and introducing myself. Her name was Natalya. 

“That story actually upset a lot of people. Have you seen the comments on the website? They’re vicious.”

“I thought it was really brave. I’ve never read anything like that in a newspaper before. When I saw you were in my class, I just had to say something.”

A few days previous I’d published a cover story called “Nelson racism: ‘White people don’t want to accept it’”. It was coverage of a youth centre event in which people of colour shared their experiences of living racialized in an ultra-white community like Nelson. Run by well-meaning hipsters, it was intended to be a response to the Black Lives Matter movement. I knew it was an incendiary topic, but I had no idea how violently people would react. The newsroom phones had been ringing all week, and one community group was organizing an emergency meeting to discuss the fall-out.

“The thing is, people don’t like to hear the truth around here. They like to live in their bubble thinking everyone’s all chill and accepting, but the truth is a lot uglier than that,” she said, lighting a cigarette. “My ex is black, and you wouldn’t believe the shit we’ve been through. With the police and everything.”

I nodded. “It’s definitely opened my eyes. It’s one of those issues that’s easy to ignore if it doesn’t affect you, right?”

She laughed. “It’s like these people were trying to prove your headline right, trying to prove that white people can’t accept that they’re racist.”

“It was pretty ironic.”

During the event, Police Chief Paul Burkart had showed up in uniform, which I thought was a powerful statement. He was taking the issue seriously. But just as he was entering the centre, shaking hands with his friends and making his way towards the bleachers, the organizers took him aside. They told him he wasn’t welcome in uniform, with his gun, because they were trying to create a “safe space” for people to share. I watched him march out annoyed and knew I already had a follow-up story. As I chatted about the event with Natalya, I mentioned that my next piece would feature his response to the event: “I want to be part of this conversation”.

“See, that’s cool. A police chief putting his money where his mouth is, I like that,” she said. “Taking racism seriously. I think that’s ridiculous they asked him to leave like that.”

“So I guess your kids are half?”

“Oh yeah, they’re milk chocolate. Curly hair like yours. I’ve got the two, a son and a daughter. Both in elementary school.”

“Hume?”

“Rosemont. My son will be heading to Elephant Mountain Secondary next year.”

All around us our fellow CrossFit enthusiasts were flooding out of the gym, making their way to their cars. Natalya took a purposeful step in my direction. I could smell the human musk of her workout, as well as some sort of fruity body lotion. As we chatted, she purposefully placed her palm on my bare chest like she was daring me to react.

“You have a special aura about you, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Nobody’s told me about my aura before, no.”

“I don’t mean it in some hippy dippy way, it’s just like you have this energy that flows all around you. I can see it coming up from your skull and flowing down your shoulders. I have a thing for auras. Yours is very kind, gentle. But there’s a sadness there too.”

I scoffed. “I don’t know how gentle I am. I’ve always been a hippo.”

She giggled, delighted. “A hippo?”

“Yeah, that’s my power animal. I spend a lot of time in the water, I’m big and hulking like them. There’s no subtlety to my personality.”

“I get it,” she said, laughing. “That’s perfect. A hippo.”

Cold wind whistled past and I felt my nipples get hard. My hair was still bobbing in sweaty ringlets. Standing within touching distance of Natalya was intoxicating, starved as I was for female contact. She was smaller than Paisley, more compact, and maybe a decade older. I’d dated women with kids in the past, and I liked how they had their shit together. Moms typically knew what they wanted out of life, and knew how to get it — they didn’t bother with the flaky emotional bullshit of women in their early 20s. This woman clearly wanted me, and wasn’t going to bother pretending otherwise.

“I heard you’re staying with Neil Solomon,” she said. “Over in Fairview.”

“Moved in just last month.”

“My daughter is in Piper’s grade. She’s such an incredible little girl, huh?”

I nodded. “I feel lucky I ended up there. Trying to put myself back together, you know? It’s been a tough six months.”

She nodded. “I know exactly how that is. My divorce still isn’t finalized. We’re fighting over the house. It’s bananas. We really love each other, but sometimes that means we really hate each other.”

“That’s pretty much where I’m at with Paisley too.”

“You should’ve been warned. It’s one of those curses. Every couple that moves to the Kootenays together ends up breaking up, eventually. This is the place where relationships come to die,” she said, exhaling a long line of smoke. “That’s why there are so many single parents around everywhere. Like me.”

“Oh, is that where you all came from?”

She punched me in the arm, then gazed up at me defiantly. We stood breathing for a few moments as the parking lot began to disgorge its cars. I was already picturing what she would look like naked, what it would be like to slowly peel her bra over her head. This was the sort of incentive that would get me out of bed in the morning, that would convince me life was worth living. I smirked flirtatiously, hooking one finger in the waistband of her shorts. We’d been talking for less than five minutes but there was a live, electric connection flowing between us. She opened her mouth, but for a moment she didn’t speak.

“I don’t have my kids tonight, do you want to come over for dinner?”

The Kootenay Goon

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Every Movie Has a Lesson by Don Shanahan: REWIND REVIEW: The Lion King

(Image courtesy of Walt Disney Pictures via wdsmediafile.com)

For an occasional new segment, Every Movie Has a Lesson will cover upcoming home media releases combining an “overdue” or “rewind” film review, complete with life lessons, and an unboxed look at special features.

THE LION KING

Anyone who seeks to own this version of The Lion King is doing so with a “how did they do that?” curiosity. The technical brilliance is its biggest selling point. That interest is answered very well by this disc release. Unlike its Pixar and Marvel offerings, Disney compiled a legitimate look into this re-imaginings wholly revolutionary bells and whistles. This movie will look gorgeous on your high-end television at home.

ANTICIPATORY SET AND PRIOR KNOWLEDGE:

Jon Favreau’s The Lion King stands as the biggest test to all of that progress and the attached criticism because of how little beyond the pristinely pixelated exterior is actually “reimagined.” So incredibly and, dare I say, unnecessarily much is nearly a shot-for-shot duplication of Disney’s most popular and most successful film of their Renaissance era. Duplicated enjoyment may have been the goal, but that makes one question a tangible purpose for truly needing any such update. Luckily, the shininess, so to speak, is an undeniably impressive and redeeming feature to a lack of implemented originality.

With around thirty minutes of extra marination here and there simplified by screenwriter and former steady Brett Ratner and Steven Spielberg collaborator Jeff Nathanson, the well-worn tale of The Lion King, with all of its hefty Shakespearean elements, is retold for a new generation. The habitat-sustaining balance of predator and prey on Pride Rock and the coming-of-age journey of an impatient young lion cub named Simba are derailed by the tragic death of his kingly father Mufasa (James Earl Jones). The pourer of snake oil and the engineer of this tragic royal coup is Mufasa’s rebuffed and cerebral younger brother Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and his enlisted army of hyenas. Shamed to believing his idolized father’s death was his fault, Simba leaves the savanna and grows into an adult (Donald Glover) in a lush jungle far away under the practical tutelage and scrappy friendship of a meerkat named Timon (Billy Eichner) and a warthog named Pumbaa (Seth Rogen). When his former betrothed lioness (Beyonce Knowles-Carter) and a spiritual soothsaying baboon (John Kani) from his past discover Simba is alive, they urge him to return home and claim his birthright.

LESSON #1: KIDS, LET’S LEARN ABOUT FOOD CHAINS AND FOOD WEBS — Depending on your chosen educator in the movie, Timon or Mufasa, you either have a straight line (food chain) or a grander circle (food web) to describe linked survival. It’s like the duel between facts and “fake news” only sung as an anthem to help you remember. Everything that lives will die and become the ingredients to a future living thing. We all are the products of that matter ourselves. It’s just what order you observe or place you occupy in the chain or the web.

LESSON #2: CARRY NO TROUBLE OR PROBLEMS IN YOUR LIFE — Just as in 1994, the catchy “Hakuna Matata” comprises your specially packaged teachable nugget for the target demographic. The Swahili phrase meaning “no trouble” or “no problems” remains good advice for moving on from past mistakes and perceived failures with an attitude change to focus on the present and future.

MY TAKE:

The opening line of my review for Aladdin read “It is becoming increasingly tedious to both critique and enjoy these Disney “re-imaginings.” That hasn’t changed. Go back before that with Dumbo and I said “Audiences constantly question the values of duplicated enjoyment or tangible purpose for needing anything new and shiny made from something that worked just that way it was intended decades ago.” That hasn’t changed either. Now, when I go back two years to Beauty and the Beast and read my words of “Let them be different, whether that’s better or worse, because they are different. View them separately and independently. Judge them separately and independently,” I see where the situations have changed for me and for this line of movies. I can’t do that anymore.

It is the present entertainment landscape and the future dividends that have powered this 2019 presentation to an immense level of anticipation. There is no disputing this movie’s immediate and constant wow factor as a stunning visual and technical spectacle. The photo-real animation of The Moving Picture Company supervised by three-time Oscar winner Robert Logato, fellow Jungle Book Oscar winner Adam Valdez, and promoted top supervisor Elliot Newman add divine ethereal layers and qualities to every corner of Caleb Deschanel’s laboratory cinematography, right down to the wind, bugs, hair, and dust. The conjured natural beauty and animal physicality is easily some of the best-looking CGI work Disney has ever attempted of film.

The trade-off with the hyper-detailed realism is the loss of engaging and exaggerated personification of characters and performances from traditional hand-drawn animation. This happened for The Jungle Book as well. Nearly all of the expressive eyes, mouths, and other emotional facial features are flattened and reduced by limits of physiological accuracy. Cartoons, more often than not, will always do that better. It shows here and it is showmanship that is dearly missed.

Stellar voice work would supersede that weakness. However, this update lacks a standout showy performance, even with a “let’s do this” and “I got this” modern attitude sprinkled throughout the diverse casting. Now 88, the returning Jones has lost little timbre, but counts as another ingredient of replication rather than an opportunity for newness. Ejiofor is a less oily Scar than Jeremy Irons and his calculated line deliveries of sinister intent and ruthless edge are underplayed and too calm to a degree. Glover and Knowles feel like they are reading more than emoting and hitting high drama. The most zeal, naturally, comes from the characters with the most personality. The chicanery of Eichner and Rogen charms to embezzle each episode of their participation.

What gave 1994’s The Lion King its lasting importance is the trait of majesty. In my eyes, that always came from the music as much as, if not more than, the characters themselves. The songs composed by the famed Elton John with lyrics by Disney hitmaker Tim Rice brought magnetic appeal. Hans Zimmer’s percussive and choral musical score, which stands as his only Oscar-winning work to date, elevated the entire movie’s powerful presence for show-stopping impact. That memorable music, recomposed and reworked by all three men with the infusion and addition of Beyonce, is the smartest and, in the end, the most essential anchoring element of this carryover. That vital strength is successfully retained rather than lost. Now, the musical majesty has a matching and radiant visual one primed to stir both new and old amazement.

LESSON #3: BE A GIVING KING — The generosity of a ruler’s wisdom and actions gain more fealty among their subjects than any fear or oppressive control. Mufasa and Simba earned that loyalty. The other animals in their organic orb of influence genuflect in respect. Can the same effect be evoked from the watching audiences of Jon Favreau’s new achievement as they gain or lose trust in Disney’s reputation with these second comings? The regal resonance of this parable wins. No matter if the version of The Lion King being shown is sketched or coded, we too may bow to the grand splendor on display.

3 STARS

EXTRA CREDIT:

The centerpiece of this home media edition is 53-minute “The Journey to The Lion King.”  The presentation is divided into three chapters with director Jon Favreau’s ever-present finger in every pie.  This feature easily bests the miniature 5-15 minute attempts of its peers. Even the so-so fans for this remake will find creativity to be impressed by in the production process for this movie.  

The first segment is a 13-minute portion documenting the return of composer extraordinaire Hans Zimmer to the project that earned his only Oscar so far in his illustrious career.  With a second crack at The Lion King, Zimmer brought increases of drums and vocal force to the familiar.  Hearing Zimmer speak on his creative process and goals is fascinating.  To have him and Elton John return to curate the score and songs was a coup for the studio and filmmakers.

The middle segment is the best and is subtitled “The Magic.”  Here is where we see the extensive shooting process, led by six-time Oscar-nominated cinematographer Caleb Deschanel.  The DP, the effects vendor MPC, and Favreau documented their “virtual camera” process. Ben Grossman of MPC built game engine technology where VR headsets rehearse and chart possible camera movements.  Those shots are merged with the settings created by Andrew Jones and his animation team from the original animatic storyboards. All involved really go out of their way to explain this very new technique and the conversations are very insightful.

To see more of this outside of “The Journey to The Lion King,” viewers can peruse the “More to Be Scene” selections.  Three of the major vocal set pieces (“Circle of Life,” “I Just Can’t Wait to be King,” and “Hakuna Matata”) are presented with side-by-side screen shifts of the four visual layers.  Starting with the storyboards and animation to the virtual camera shooting and final finished product, the progression is amazing to see.

Last of the three chapters, “Timeless Tale” brings forward the diverse voice talents of these animal characters and personas.  Favreau leads here to explain and defend how this cast of new performers were chosen. They, in turn, excitedly explain their connection to it all.  Many grew up as ardent lovers of the original and feel the Favreau opportunity is dream fulfillment and a large honor. The smiles are shared by all around.

Jon Favreau’s feature commentary takes all of this and goes even further with scene-by-scene breakdowns.  His complementary insights often emphasize the documentary and photo-realistic goals and desires of the movie and all those working on it.  The goal from the beginning was less anthropomorphic emotion to avoid cartooning, which addresses the contention of many for the lack of facial expressions.  Emulation came first, right down to the shot creations. According to the director, the more iconic the scene, the more the filmmakers adhered to the known memories without tinkering.  Changes were easier to make elsewhere.  

After that, the other bonus features are pretty short and simple.  Entertainment is the chief goal where the movie itself can be played straight or as a sing-along version.  For those who want to cut straight to the ditties, there is a Song Selection feature to pick any of the eight lyricized song scenes.  Music video inclusions are given to the two new original song additions, “Spirit” by Beyonce and “Never Too Late” by Elton John. Expect one of those to get an Oscar nomination slot come the winter awards season.

The final minor bit is “Protect the Pride.”  It is a tidy 3-minute PSA on lions highlighting the beneficial Lion Recovery Fund efforts supported with a bucks from Disney’s fat checkbook.  The organization’s goal with this partnership is to double the formerly endangered lion population in the wild by 2050. Helpful and harmless, it represents a positive message and kissed ring at the same time.

LOGO DESIGNED BY MEENTS ILLUSTRATED (#833)

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