#and this is like the exact same pattern like with my ex

[crispy-chan]

I am literally in the same situation I was in a year and a half ago. Lord have mercy 😔

[victoriouslygay]

It's horrible to see the damage one person can do to the queer community. My girlfriend and I watched the hbomb video in a mixture of rage and horror as James did theft and grift after theft and grift, and covered his tracks with lies, deflections, and destruction of evidence.

Hbomb talked about how he hid the evidence after his last major accusations, privating or deleting videos and reuploading (some of) them later. In mid-December of 2022, he lost 1,555,623 views to this method, privating a large number of videos. Most of his videos sit around 200k, give or take.

Well, unfortunately, likely to no one's surprise, he's doing it again. I've seen lots of people talk about how he shut down his patreon and the message associated with that. What I haven't seen enough talk about is how he's quietly cleaning up his YouTube, following the same exact pattern as before.

All of his videos, shorts, and community posts have had comments turned off. That's not surprising, I'm sure there was plenty of backlash. But he's also now cleaning out this videos with plagiarism. As of yesterday, December 5th, 2023, James Somerton's channel lost a whopping 3,335,455 views, more than double the last time he cleaned house. Remember that most of his videos are in the 200k view range; that is a massive amount of content removed from his channel.

I know he promised a response to his patreon viewers. I would love to extend to another human the good faith and hope that he has learned his lesson and is removing the plagiarized material, never to be posted again. However, there's a pattern at this point. He's been accused before and wiped the evidence away (partially) and carried on. It's very possible he's doing that same thing again.

So whatever explanation comes down the road, be wary. It very well may be the same old grift, this time on a larger acale.

In the meantime, go read and watch queer media from queer artists who don't hurt our community. Hbomb gave us a wonderful playlist, and his subreddit continues to generate more suggestions. Follow the queer artists he stole from. Be nice to the ex-viewers of Somerton, who were victims of a grifter when all they wanted was a place of queer discussions of media. And hopefully, whenever Somerton gives his explanation of the situation, he's already faded into obscurity.

[verilly]

On my knees for some post-Mithrun fluff rn.

POST MITHRUN FLUFF? I gotchu 😎 it’s going to be bullet points b t dubs, just so I can catch the right mind set… THANKSYU 4 THE REQUEST ILY <3

Mithrun x Reader

•••|•••|•••|•••|•••

Right. So after canon he heads back to Melini (with you, of course) to scout out monsters and demons with his side hustle of making noodles! So as a noble yourself, you follow him to help achieve his dreams!

However, Mithrun is still ticked off at the part where reviving isn’t a plausible option after death, so he’s extremely careful with you. So much so that after a month or so with you trailing with him on his search for monsters, he tosses you in the noodle shop (with the land he had claimed with his noble blood).

At this point, he’s been so surrounded in his want for monster/demon blood that he hasn’t exactly made any progress with the noodle making… and well, neither have you. So there you sat, alone in a big restaurant, with no customers at all, no one to keep you company or to keep you entertained!

So that’s when you decide to try to cook noodles on your own!

You grabbed as many how to guide’s you could from books all over your country, which included recipes from the western territories all the way to the eastern islands! You even scrounged up some old tattered papers from the ex-canaries, Senshi, and the trash.

Collecting herbs, grains, and whatever monster-like ingredients Laios sent to you through the mail.

You decided to keep most of your habits a secret from Mithrun, or at least as you can from him because you wanted to be the one to teach him when the day comes he wanted to pursue his other desire. You always schedule your time practicing for when he's away, and Mithrun being the man that he is always has a set pattern on doing things. Meaning he always came back home almost at the exact same time everyday.

The only other times he'd come home at a later time is when he gets lost, for he has the time of his life navigating the city streets. (This is rare because he likes using his teleportation magic a lot more than actually walking.)

So on this very special day, once you've decided your skills are up to the test, you served him home made noodles. Not only were they home made, so was the sauce/broth. You were quite proud of making such a delicious meal, now it was time to share your talent with your lover.

"Mithrun, wake up, I have a very special breakfast to share with you!" You say, pushing him back and forth from his sleeping state. You'd waken up hours earlier to prepare for this momentous occasion.

No response.

Maybe you should have planned the scheduling better? This was earlier than usual for the ex-captain to wake up... No! You were his partner, he should wake up for you!

"Mithrun wake up!!!" You groan loudly, stopping all your movements before shoving your face into his blanketed stomach, "Please please please please!"

With no words to utter, Mithrun begrudgingly arose from the bed, sitting right up to face you. You beamed with excitement as he looked to face you.

"Why don't you join me down at the resturaunt floor? I have set up something quite amazing down there." You put a finger to your chin and smile, "Plus I think you'll like it a lot!!"

Down the steps the two of you went, where in arrival was the bowl of noodles you had prepared only minutes before. They were served with scallions, mushrooms, a pantry load of seasonings, and whatever meat you had bought fresh from the market a day before.

"What is this?"

"It's noodles! That I made.. for you... 'cause you said you wanted to make them yourself and.... I can see where I messed up a little, but I did it so that I can help you in the future! When you wish to fufill your desire of noodle making!!!" You sheepishly say, a much smaller smile creeping up on your lips.

"I never said you messed up." He said smoothly, teleporting away from you and into the seat in front of the food. You follow closely behind him, sitting at the seat next to him.

"Go on, take a bite! It'll be all for nothing if we run out of time and you need to go out monster hunting." You tilt your head to the right, clasping your hands together.

He looks down at the meal in front of him, and his good eye flickers up and down between you and the noodles. After a few seconds past he picked up the nice utensils you placed next to the bowl and took his first bite.

"So how does it taste? Do you like it??!"

"I don't feel anything in particular for it." He murmurs calmly.

"Ah." Your world view shatters for a moment, before sucking in your pride, "So what makes you feel that way? I thought it was really good, but our tastes are quite different from each other..."

"It's a little too flavorful for me, but I'm... grateful that you spent so much time perfecting this for me. How long was it? A few months?"

"What!!? How did you know that I was..."

"You can't hide things from me, [name]. You'll never be able to succeed."

You stare at him for a second before collapsing on the table before you, "Arghh! I totally thought everything was going to go great, but as it turns out... Mithrun is just too good for me." You pull the bowl towards you, taking the utensils from Mithrun's hand, "And if you don't like it then you don't need to eat it."

"It's not my taste, but I don't mind. Please, I'd rather not leave any left overs, especially if it's a meal from you." His face seemed to soften as he said those few words, and your face reddened in response, letting out an "oh" as you correct your posture.

"Well then if you have time off anytime soon, you could stay here and I could teach you how to make your own noodles that suit your own taste. Then we could actually open the resturaunt to the people." You say sweetly, looking down at the food, watching it dissapear by each passing minute, "I'm sure every being here in Melini would love to eat food made by the hands of a noble. Maybe even the Canaries can home, I'm sure they'd enjoy a meal made by their captain."

"Mm... I'll stay here for today. My desire's growing after eating this d- uhm. Delicious meal you made for me." He states simply, putting the empty bowl and utensils to the side.

"Alright then." You get up from the seat next to him and take his hand, "I'll teach you everything I know." Another smile perks up on your lips as you pull him to the kitchen.

Mithrun in a kitchen. Who could've guessed?!

He's not very skilled at cutting, buthis use of magic fills in the void quite perfectly.

You help him a lot, which includes taking his hands in yours when he begrudgingly uses the knife.

He likes your touches but not the “weapon” in his hands.

You also teach him to pound the noodles, which you usually put lots of energy into, but for him not so much. You have to fill in for him most of the time.

There will come a day where Mithrun won’t go out on expeditions and instead stays with you in the restaurant, for a long time.

And to him, he wouldn’t want to spend his last few (hundreds of) years any differently.

•••|•••|•••|•••|•••

I tried to make it flufffy I don’t know if this is fluff

I hope you liked it :3 pls keep sending me stuff it’ll take like a day - ish for me to fill it out but I def will!!!!!!!

My masterlist is on profile :3

Lots of love, Yours truly.

[wttcsms]

silly fic concept where character has the worst luck with women (gets cheated on, one ex admitted that she's only attracted to women, etc.). as if adding insult to injury, it's like he's been given some weird superpower bc after breaking up with him, all his exes seem to immediately find their One True Love. all his exes are happily married or entering long term relationships, and he's the one left behind. enter in reader who is in the same exact predicament, down to the fact that all ur exes have found their soulmates right after leaving you. after a chance meeting, you two open up to each other about this weird pattern, and you come up with a great idea: you two should date each other for a little bit and see if you can help each other find your soulmate!!!

imagine just being friends in the beginning of this "relationship", so there's a scene where you (who is supposed to be his gf) literally playing wingwoman for him and maybe one of his friends notices it when y'all go out to a bar and his friend is like ??? what freak shit are they into 🤨 is my bro literally trying to build a harem or what!!!!

then, you two come to the conclusion that your grand scheme will only work if y'all actually take this relationship seriously, and ofc by fanfic logic, you two catch feelings, and one night, you're together and he thinks he's going to confess his true feelings for you now until you go and ruin it by saying "i'm going to be really sad when we breakup. you might be the best boyfriend i've ever had." and he doesn't confess!!!! he just holds back and makes a joke about how you shouldn't worry since you're going to meet your soulmate thanks to him, and you're dejected because you've been hoping that he's the one for you!!!

[bullet-prooflove]

From the silence of the speakers, To the bow in your hair, To the sweet smell of perfume, That's hoverin' in the air

For Tyler Owens please ❤️

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hookslove1592 @nerdgirljen @milesdot ’@failure-of-a-student

Companion piece to:

The Mechanic - Tyler faces a problem when Boone brings his mechanic ex girlfriend back into the fold.

Rigs -Tyler reflects on history with you.

Ford Mustang - Tyler extends an olive branch.

Engine Parts - Tyler and you try to clear the air.

One of the things that Tyler has missed about being with you is the dancing. He’s picked up a couple of partners over the years but none of them hold a candle to the sensation he gets when he holds you close, the two of you gently swaying together in the bar that Boone’s brother owns.

It’s long past closing time and the dulcet tones of Zach Bryan are fading into the distance. It’s time to let you go, he knows it is but Tyler, he’s not ready just yet, so he stays there on that dance floor, his arms wrapped around you, his cheek pressed lightly against yours. He can feel the ridges of that scar against his skin and he holds onto you a little tighter. He doesn’t want to think about how he almost lost you that day, how he did lose you in the years that followed.

When you’d first started this dance, it was meant to be a little fun between friends. You’ve just got back on the storm chasing circuit. You’re fixing up rigs, immersing yourself back in the culture and sometimes it feels just like the old days. Tyler lets himself get caught up in it, it’s easier than trying to figure out where things lie between the two of you after you called him out on his shit back at the garage. He guesses you get a little caught up too because you don’t turn him down when he holds out his hand to dance, you take it instead.

At first it’s great, a series of fast paced two step and twirls but than the music slows and you fall back into old patterns. He guides your arms around his neck, gathers you up close and you fall into him the exact same way you used to. You stay like that until long after the bar closes, until Boone, starts to turn off the lights one by one.

“Tyler.” You whisper, your lips brushing over his jaw and he knows what you’re about to say. There’s an ache in his chest, that’s just as visceral as the day he watched you drive away, leaving him behind with nothing but his hat and the rig you’d fixed up as a parting gift.

“Not yet…” He murmurs, burying his face into your hair. “I’m not ready to let go just yet.”

Love Tyler? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[melancholymetropolis]

The Summoning

plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.

pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader

genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.

a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.

w.c: 7.5k

Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.

Come to me, gentle creature.

In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots. 

Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on. 

About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal. 

VAMPYRUS

The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket. 

Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.

Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame. 

I was simply stuck. 

The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting. 

“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.” 

His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace. 

I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.

I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"

"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob. 

On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.

"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.

"Anything for you."

Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs. 

"Wait! The candles—"

Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out. 

The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin. 

After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.

I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.

Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.

"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"

"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply. 

"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."

Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me. 

"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."

"You were cursed, weren't you?"

"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.

"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him. 

We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.

It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.

My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."

"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."

My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.

Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.

The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.

"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded. 

"That is correct."

"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"

"Yup."

"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"

"Mhm."

"And the real estate agent knew?"

"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."

I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet. 

A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning. 

"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."

"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then." 

"Good night, sweetheart."

Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me. 

Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid. 

After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't. 

In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance.  The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions. 

The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met. 

My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy. 

I cried when I saw them. 

"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."

My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"

"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"

I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.

"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"

I nodded.

Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him. 

The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.

As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.

Kiss me.

I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality. 

The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me. 

It was simply magical.

Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.

Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?

His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.

I couldn’t wait.

I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths. 

His thoughts were loud in my mind. 

Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine. 

He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth. 

Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.

And, to my surprise, I was going to let him. 

I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts. 

His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.” 

His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me. 

My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together. 

It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.

Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O��Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.

I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month. 

I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.

I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me. 

The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever. 

Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.

My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.

Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.

“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”

A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”

“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.” 

The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.

Touch me. 

Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed. 

“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”

“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”

In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.

“Oh fuck. . .”

My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia. 

Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.

“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”

Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment. 

The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.

When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance. 

“Y/N, wait— Shit!”

My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock. 

We are made for each other, huh?

Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips. 

Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me. 

I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.

Fuck me like you mean it.

The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck. 

You’re going to be the death of me.

Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.

The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body. 

"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."

I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch. 

With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.

“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face. 

 Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.

The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.

I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that. 

His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”

What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.

The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended. 

On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck. 

Drink.

Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”

His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”

“Mhm.”

Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again. 

My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan.  Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on. 

“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.” 

He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly. 

“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”

The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.

“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”

“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”

A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.

Come with me.

The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously. 

Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.

I love you, Y/N.

The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched. 

Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine. 

I adore you. 

---------

a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.

next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara

[benzobucky]

The first time Poison saw Jet without an eyepatch was on an ordinary day. They were ghosting some dracs in zone 3, and one of them got too close to Jet, managed to jump on him, and wanted to stab him. But somehow, his knife slipped, and it only took off the eyepatch.

That drac saw he's end the same moment, though. The ray of electricity right through his head and into the sky.

Poison quickly noticed that Jet was no longer wearing an eyepatch. It intrigued him.

The thing is, no one ever saw Jet Star without an eyepatch. And every time someone asks him what happened, he tells a different story.

"It was a Scarecrow and I was high as fuck"

"My ex-girlfriend, who thought that I cheated on her, tried to pluck my eyes out with a spoon"

"My uncle called me a faggot and burned my face with acid, because I wore a makeup once"

"I chose fork"¹

[¹ - in eastern Europe, there's a phrase that says something like "would you rather choose to have a fork in your eye or a dick in your ass"]

Anyway, no-one really knew how Jet lost his eye and how it looks now. Ghoul even tried to sneak once in Jets room, but turned out he uses a fucking sleep mask and trying to took it off would mean death. Metaphorical maybe, but still.

So no-one knew. No-one.

So when the fight was over and dust finally settled, Poison finally managed to lay his eyes on something he always wanted to see.

And it was... Disgusting. Terrifying. Poison knew he shouldn't have feel or think such things but it was true horror. Reddish-brown, wrinkled skin surrounded, cloudy eye that seemed to be like almost closed. But it was not.

Jet looked at him. With both eyes for the first time. It gave Poison chills.

Well, to be completely honest, Jet was always kinda terrifying. Born in the heat of desert, he was truly a child of the golden sands. Not the zones, but the desert itself. He was built, his body was covered in scars, his past remained unknown, and sometimes, he was cruel. Like desert.

And the scar on his face... just another pattern on his body, just another story that is going to be finally told on a cold night. Somewhere deep in the darkness of his room, maybe even tonight, Poison hoped. The scar was like the sun itself imprinted in Jet's face. Like... like a star.

Poison thought about it for a second and for this exact second he managed to find it beautiful. But only for a second.

Beauty is fleeting. The scars always will be an ugly reminder what we lost and that we'll never be the same people again. Later Poison finally discovered the story of this scar and many many other scars on Jets body.

Not everything can leave Poison speechless, but that day, the only thing he managed to give Jet was a hug.

Poison never saw Jet without an eyepatch ever again. Every time he tried to take it off, Jet slowly stopped him. Maybe in the depth of his soul, Jet knew that it was disgusting. Maybe he felt vulnerable without it. Maybe he just doesn't want Poison to be horrified with him. But Poison wouldn't be. He will never be horrified with Jet ever again.

What a pity that they never spoke about it out loud ever again either.

Poison, about how he cares and how he accepts. Jet, about how he is scared of abandonment.

It is for the better, though. They already let themselves have too much intimacy. Too much for this cruel world. Too much for their cruel lives.

[jikookuntold]

The Untold Truth of Jungkook’s WeLives

I had the idea of this post in my mind for a long time, but I didn't know how to put it out. Since most Jikookers have noticed some kind of pattern in JK's livestreams recently, I thought maybe it's time to write this post and add my notions to the known theories and facts. 

Weverse, instead of VLive

Let’s go back one year in time. On June 16th, 2022, a day after BTS announced the pause in their group activities, which caused chaos due to media misinterpreting it as their hiatus or even disbandment, someone had to reassure ARMY about the continuation of BTS and do the damage control. And for some reason, JK was the one to be called for this duty. He started his first solo livestream in Weverse app in a place we had never seen before. That place had a few pieces of furniture from their Hannam dorm, rumored to be rented by Big Hit just a couple of weeks earlier. 

Months passed, and JK didn’t do any livestreams until his birthday came, and another assigned live in the Weverse app happened at the same place. Like the other six members (five, to be more accurate since Tae evaded this), he promoted his photobook and did the routine of his lives by singing songs and casually talking with ARMY. His next solo live happened after the World Cup performance in a Doha hotel room, and he didn’t appear in any Weverse lives for some time. 

Midnight Streamer

After doing only three lives in almost a year, all assigned by the company, JK came back to Weverse app on the first night of February, and this time it wasn’t an assigned livestream, but it was an unplanned and unauthorized one. He appeared at 2 AM singing songs, including Vibe, the newest release by Jimin. Since this live happened out of nowhere, Namjoon and later Tae tried to intervene and control the situation, then they realized there was nothing to worry about. 

The next JK live happened only two nights later around midnight, and Jimin was the first one to comment. JK was so excited to see Jimin’s comments and invited him to have chicken, but Jimin was too busy with his schedule (even at midnight) to accept his offer. A few days later, on the 11th of February, JK did a livestream at his boxing trainer gym, and again, Jimin was one of the first ones to comment. JK and his coach invited Jimin to resume his training and implied that they both train with the same coach. 

Unfortunately, this was the last livestream from that gym since JK’s privacy got invaded and videos of him doing work out there, were leaked by some stalker. A few weeks later, on the last day of February, JK did another live (this time around noon), and the same day, he deleted his Instagram account.

Is This the End?

You know that I’m among the hardcore believers of Jikook living together. And at this era, anons and non-anons kept asking me if I am still in my belief or not, since JK was showing up alone in the middle of the night, which was against this belief. But I couldn’t wrap my head around it because couples don’t suddenly stop living together unless they break up, which wasn’t the case because they weren’t acting like exes, since you don’t invite your ex for dinner or boxing together, you don’t go watch his dance practice and cheer for him. So, why were these all happening?

Jimin was getting ready for his solo debut at this time, and when the Bangtan Bomb for Jimin dance practices came out, we saw him talking about the strict diet he was on for keeping his weight around 50kg since dancers had to carry him for choreo. We weren’t strangers to Jimin’s strict diets before each comeback, but this statement was the information I needed to have my ultimate conclusion. Jikook had to stay separated for a short time because Jimin was working hard and dieting harder, and spending time with JK would work against his plans (he was literally inviting him for food in one live, remember?). This was the exact time JK started doing his routine livestreams from Brunnen because he had to stay there apart from his Jiminie hyung. But this was not the only conclusion I had from JK’s regular livestreams.

I’m Hyung’s Fan

In March, JK kept doing his livestreams which was a sign of the continuation of Jimin’s tight schedules. JK did one livestream on the 3rd day of March around 2 AM, and I don’t remember anything specific about it, but the next one was unforgettable. On March 14th, The White Day, when Jimin was out of the country for recording Jimmy Fallon show, JK did four consecutive livestreams from around 8 PM till midnight and played a playlist consisting of “There for You”, “Christmas Day” and “Nothing”, all Jimin-coded songs. He finished the fourth live a few minutes before midnight and reminded us that something amazing is coming at 00:00, which happened to be Jimin’s solo pre-release, Set Me Free Pt2. He changed his outfit three times in these lives from a black jacket to a white shirt and a purple jacket which at first didn’t seem to mean anything until Set Me Free MV and dance practice video came out.

The next JK Weverse live was another undercover promotion for his Jiminie hyung. A few hours before the official release of “Face” he came online and spoiled “Letter” the hidden song in the album he did the back vocals for. If you think JK was being obvious in promoting Jimin, then you should have watched the next WeLive he did. Four days after his last livestream, he came back online to watch the newest episode of Suchwita because Jimin was the guest. He admitted that he had never watched any episodes of this drinking show before, and after that, he watched other videos of Jimin on YouTube, letting the algorithm expose his bias. 

The next day, he answered Jimin’s comment about missing “ARMY” with “me too” and Jimin replied making it obvious that JK was missing “him”. The same day, Jimin did a livestream on his way back from pre-recording a stage performance, and JK spammed it with 19 comments. JK never did this for any other member. All the Hyung line had their solo releases too, but JK never did anything for them that was remotely close to what he did for Jimin. He obviously wasn’t lying when he commented ‘I’m Hyung’s fan”. 

I Really Want to Stay at Your House

After the end of Jimin’s solo album promotions, JK’s regular livestreams suddenly became less and less regular, and it was safe to say they were back to their normal living routine. I know Jikookers heard his voice in Jimin’s livestream after getting Billboard Hot100 No.1 on April 3rd, but I’m not going to go there. JK did a short WeLive on April 8th before his trip to LA, but it was a different story, he did that to explain the situation earlier happened in the house. On the 18th of April, when Jhope was enlisting, we saw Jikook’s passionate hug and hinting about the drinking they had the night before, proving again that they spend a lot of time together in their free time.

On April 25th, Jimin traveled to NYC for a Tiffany event and recorded his latest collaboration, and on the same night, JK appeared in Weverse app for another livestream, and the first song he played was named “I Really Want to Stay at Your House”. The next day he posted his food, and a few days later he attended the LV event after-party with Mingyu. On the 4th of May, he complained about a stalker sending food to his door in a Weverse post and threatened with legal action. Two days later Jimin came back from NYC, and JK went on socmed hiatus again. On May 21st he posted a cute photo of Bam, and on the 23rd Jimin left for London, and the next day JK came back to WeLive like a clockwork. 

I tried to review everything in chronological order, but I know I have spared lots of details. I don’t think this post needs any conclusion or further explanation because everything explained itself, and you are free to have your own concussion. JK doing livestreams or posting food photos only when Jimin is away or busy, promoting his work and adoring him the way we had never seen before, only has one reasonable explanation, and anything other than that is not valid. 

[sixtynineinchnails]

I've been wanting to make this post for months and in light of the recent ex-presidential ear piercing now seems as good a time as any.

As a non-usamerican, as someone who is pro Palestine, as an anarchist: I am begging you with every fibre of my being to go to the fucking polls this fall and

VOTE.

Disclaimer: I don't live in the united states and I never have and I probably never will. I can never truly understand what it's like to be a usamerican and I'm not going to pretend like i could. I fully expect to get called a fascist or some shit for saying your should exercise your right to vote but at this point I don't care. I'm scared, we're all scared, and news like we've just gotten tonight is only going to compound the fear and chaos and conspiracy thought and fearmongering and hopelesspilled doomerism we’re all dealing with rn. I don’t want to make anyone’s day worse. I'm not looking to debate you. I just want to say some things that i’ve been thinking about for a long time now while a couple people might actually stop to listen.

The united states of america is the most powerful country in the world.

What happens in the united states government this fall will affect every single person on the planet, in some way, for better or worse.

You aren't just voting blue to avoid trump turning the united states into an alt-right theocratic dictatorship (which on its own is bad enough). You're also voting to avoid the right from gaining power (where they haven't already) in of other powerful democratic countries. You're voting to stop Palestine (and let’s be real, probably a handful of other places) from being wiped off the face of the planet with nuclear bombs. You're potentially voting to avoid a third world war. I'm not saying this to spread fear of these things happening. I'm saying this because if you're not already aware of how huge the scope is here: you're not voting to save your country, you're very likely voting to save the entire world.

I can't speak to how people feel everywhere (if you’re also a non-usamerican please feel free to share how this is/has/will affect your country in the notes) but I want to speak to my own for a bit. I can confidently say that what happens in america heavily affects the political and social situation here in canada. We would not have had a convoy of thousands of people drive across the country (which takes days to do) to occupy our capital city for a month and halt almost $4 billion in trade to protest, i kid you not, wearing a mask during covid, if trump supporters hadn't paved the way (and directly influenced canadians to follow in their footsteps). We wouldn't have had "concerned parents" protesting against sex-ed and LGBTQ+ inclusivity in schools (protests full of armed+mounted police which they brought their young children to during school hours) if trump supporters hadn't paved the way. There are people waving flags and signs around on street corners along major roads every single week everywhere from the largest city in our country to small towns of under 5000 people. I’ve heard of people who’ve spiraled into such severe conspiracy rabbitholes that their entire lives and personalities have changed in just a few years. Despite being canadian nationalists, these people and their patterns of behaviour are all a direct result of donald j trump and his followers. And no matter your political leaning, pretty much everyone hates our current prime minister, our economy is bad, even people with decent incomes can’t afford to eat, and everyone is frothing at the mouth for something to happen. If america votes trump this fall, I see very little hope that our country won't vote conservative (our main right-wing party). They will backpedal decades of LGBTQ+ rights and Indigenous peoples' rights and climate action funding and children's education and a whole pile of other important stuff. They have made it very clear that they will follow the exact same path as right wing america and there are a scary amount of people here who want that. And even if canada remains centre/left while sharing the largest land border in the world with a trump dictatorship....well I for one can’t see that going over very well either.

And that's just my country. I know a lot of other countries have been battling a similar spike in alt-right groups and conservative ideologies following the last trump presidency. I don't think any of us are truly prepared for what will happen in the event of another one.

Look. I hate biden too. In general I disagree with the very concept of colonial government and money and the division of countries/states/etc and the legal/carceral system and a whole whack of other shit that we have to live with right now. Someone’s said this before but if any of us thought that telling you guys to blow up a walmart would save your country from a fascist dictatorship I for one would encourage it. But none of us are actually going to blow up a walmart, and it wouldn’t solve anything at this point anyways. We all have to take action in whatever ways we actually can and will. Voting is one of many small, simple steps you can take, should take, fucking better be taking. It’s easy, it’s legal, if you mail in you don’t even have to go to the polling station, and if you really can’t vote for whatever reason, encourage everyone you know who can to do so. Hell, if I could vote on november 5th I would crawl my ass over the border on my hands and knees to do it. I'm sorry that the two options are a fascist police state and an even worse fascist police state run by a man who thinks he's a god, but not voting won't fix that problem. You're not going to establish a revolution by purposefully not taking part in social change, and encouraging others not to either. Not voting against trump = voting for trump. If you don't vote and that orange nukefucker takes over your country it is your fault. And we’re all going to pay for your inaction, especially the people in places like Palestine who will be in significantly more danger than they already are if trump gets his fake tanned hands on the situation.

Anyways. Keep fighting. Stay safe. Do what you can. Don't give up. There is always hope for a better future. And for fucks sake go vote.

Oh and if we do end up in the worst timeline this november and I see you anti-voting fuckers making "lmao time to move to canada" jokes...count your fucking days.

-

TLDR: usamerica is not the only place in the world affected by the actions of usamerica. If you’re still railing against voting at this point you’re pro-trump lmao.

[number1blueoakfan]

red from pokemon is autistic

this isnt a new thing i js like psychoanalyzing him ok.

Red, in both the games and manga, show traits of ASD, or Autism spectrum disorder, or just Autism. In the games, it is much easier to spot, however.

1; Speech

In the games, he is completely nonverbal, with the exception of a few times where Red is shown to speak. (Copycat, Masters EX, etc) Masters EX timeline is… Confusing, though in the games, he only speaks once. (Copycat) In the manga, he is shown to speak a lot, though it is harder to see it as autism, it is a spectrum disorder, and one side of the spectrum is never being quiet/having trouble being quiet.

2; Special interests

In the games AND manga, Red very obviously has a special interest in pokemon, given he has caught every type in Kanto and completed the pokedex, he is very intent and interested in pokemon battles, and overall, that's just his major special interest.

3; Sensory issues

Though we don't see much explicit proof of this, I believe that Red has fabric related sensory issues. The reason being, he doesn't change his clothing at all until Masters EX and generation 7, excluding the original red and blue games. In fire red/leaf green, he is 11, in gold/silver/crystal, he is 14. In the pokemon world tournament, he is 19. Why do I mention this? Well, that's because Red wears the exact same outfit for 8 whole years, as opposed to Blue, who changes his outfit throughout the series. A lot, if not all autistic people struggle with fabric related sensory issues, and struggle to find clothing they like the texture of, which causes them to wear the same clothes over and over again.

4; repetition/patterns

Pokemon battles, in my opinion, especially pokemon type advantages and disadvantages, deal with pattern recognition. This is a trait of autism, which leads me to believe, with Red's special interest in pokemon and battling, he has some form of pattern recognition when it comes to typing of pokemon.

In the manga, he is also shown to repeat movements, pick up on phrases a few times, etc, which can count for repetition. The phrases can also count for echolalia in a sense, a common thing with autism. This can also apply to the copycat thing.

5; Stimming/Stimulation

For Red, this is a difficult thing to see. Since in most of his appearances, the sprites don't move, or do not move much, it's hard to decide if he is shown to stim. It's also hard, given he cannot vocal stim, since he is non-verbal. (Games) This is where the manga comes into play, since the manga is more expressive, since that is the point of the manga. To show scenes in more detail. In the manga, he is shown to flail his arms when he's frustrated, (entering saffron city, etc) repeat phrases, which ties into echolalia, etc. Also, in the games, he is shown to have little/no facial expressions.

I feel like him disappearing on Mt. Silver was because he was so overwhelmed and overstimulated all the time with being champion- And thus, ran away with little/no explanation.

6; Over or under empathetic?

Red is shown to be very empathetic towards pokemon, a few people, and that's it. In the manga, however, he is shown to be both overly empathetic and under-empathetic. While he is not super emotional, he still is a bit emotional in the manga. Tying into this, autistic people have a very strong sense of justice. This is shown in both the games and the manga, given team rocket.

7; high or low functioning?

Red is obviously a very high functioning character. He is intelligent, and strategic, given he enjoys pokemon battles.

8; Social

I feel like he was isolated for displaying autistic traits as a kid, hence why Blue(m) was (presumably) his only friend. Also, the scene in the manga where he calls Misty an idiot and gets confused on why she's upset- Peak bluntness, chat. (A trait of autism) He's very blunt and straightforward throughout the manga, as well.

9; overall overview– Is this character autistic?

Very obviously, yes! Red is autistic. He checks out a lot of the boxes, and definitely shows signs of ASD, the most prominent ones being him being non-verbal, his pokemon special interest, and the whole sensory issue thing.

EDIT: also the fact satoshi (THE CREATOR OF POKEMON) is autistic and i believe has stated that red and i believe ash were based off him. quirks brow

[allamericansbitch]

Im asking your opinion because I myself don't know how to feel. Taylor keeps saying she doesn't want her work to be about her exes but then keeps throwing "winks" at fans like am I supposed to believe she didn't know "Blue Dress on A Boat" would make fans immediately associate that song with HS? Am I supposed to pretend she didn't mean for people to see that she liked that old tweet? Am I supposed to pretend the multiple synchronized unfollows were all a coincidence? Am I supposed to pretend she didn't know it would make headlines when she got on stage and said 'I love you, you know who you are' admist the Matty rumors?

Media outlets aren't doing research on every single thing taylor does, fans are. That's where the articles come from, news articles are basically just a bunch of tweets/tiktoks on a list format nowadays. So if she says she doesn't want this kind of attention why does she keep doing it?

It reminds me of the time she went to the Ellen show and roasted Joe Jonas for dumping her over the phone (she also edited a Myspace post about him to imply he cheated), he had to make multiple statements about it. I'm not in the business of defending Joe Jonas and Taylor was a teenager back then, it's just that sometimes it feels like not much has changed. Her last public breakup was with Calvin Harris and look how that went. He did literally tweet that she should just leave him alone if she's happy in a new relationship.

I just don't know what to think. It feels very juvenile. I'm too old to think it's cool to be subtweeting people for drama, making sure to be photographed with the girls and then they all go home to unfollow the ex. I think I need to take a break from her again. It felt like we were finally done with the "Joever" comments and there she goes again, in my eyes it just makes Joe Alwyn look better because he has said absolutely nothing about her.

.

ps: fans say she is a mastermind that does everything with intention but when we say 'hey maybe when she liked that tweet she should have known it would cause this' we're the crazy ones.

I’m in the exact same boat. She genuinely is just repeating history and the history is almost 10 years old at this point. She hasn’t really matured much and is feeding this parasocial beast she created. She very much knows her fanbase is immature and cares about this stuff and she takes advantage of it. And it sucks because it works every single time. No one recognizes the pattern of: break up, immediately start trashing them through ‘sources’ or directly in the media and start very public dating someone new and show them off like a trophy to make the ex look bad. All of it is exhausting and so immature and the fact that she’s a grown ass adult still behaving like she did when she was a teenager is crazy.

[mary-laib]

I've seen a lot of people say that Mordecai is ocd and idk if Tracy has said something about it yet, but I feel like outside of people who are ocd or know a lot about the disorder, most people say it bc of what mainstream media has to say about it. But let me pose you an alternative: ✨Autism✨

As an autistic person who works with multiple ocd people, let me tell you that ocd≠organized. From my understanding, ocd is more of a compulsion-based disorder such as checking your locks multiple times, repeating words or phrases, and counting in certain patterns. Some of this can lead to being more neat and organized, but it is also just as often not the case. Autism can often be more driven by symmetry than ocd, though with less anxiety reactions.

As a neurotic autistic person who gets upset when things are not symmetrically placed on shelves or on counters and works with ocd people who constantly leave stuff wherever for days on end, but happen to be good at counting and making sure that reminders are made when things are bothering them, it is hell here.

Actually let me go off the rails for a second and complain about the disorganization of these people (and before I get accused of "mimicking" Mordecai, let it be known that I just got into Lackadaisy and have been complaining about this stuff since July of last year. I just like him because he's relatable):

• I have a huge issue with cans not being stacked forward and the labels not facing the correct way and empty boxes being left on shelves. I also hate it when cans are not the exact same size so when you stack them, you can never get them all exactly lined up at the top. I go into Walmart and organize their shelves, that's how big of an issue I have with this stuff.

• At the registers, I have very particular spaces that I keep everything so that everything is mostly hidden and all the square/rectangle-shaped items we have are pressed together like a tetris set. I will spend hours at the register minutely changing fhe exact setup and making sure everything is neat and lined up, including the pens.

• I like keeping my aquatics station organized with the nets neatly in the sink and tilted to the back so they're not hanging over the counter, all paperwork folded neatly on my little drawer set and underneath the cup where I keep my pens, markers, and thermometer, my square fish-catching cups stacked neatly against the wall, and blackbag folded between the faucet and the wall while I'm not using it. I keep my chemical bottles organized based on purpose (ex. Medical in back, plant food in middle, and contirioner/chamical water adjusters in front.

• In the wellness room, I like to keep carts and terariums pushed neatly against the wall, often between shelves. It there's space between the item and one of the shelves, I like to push it against one and find something that will neatly fit in between on the other side.

• It annoys me that the organization system in place is mostly just people throwing things on shelves and organizing them by wide categories, rather than neatly sorting things together based on stricter categories. Like instead of putting all the aquatic stuff mixed together on one shelf, we could be putting food to one side, then filters, then thermometers, then decor, etc.

• Everyone also moves stuff around way too much. Like just put stuff back where you found it. Why am I constantly having to move stools back to their designated sections from the same spot. Why do you need 3 stools for one area???

• Can we maximize space? Why are 10 pallets of new inventory on the floor when you can scoot them into one area, organize them based on what place they belong in the store and then move those boxes neatly onto the end of the aisle they belong? Most of what we have is food anyways, so if we can get boxes out of the way, that leaves room to take those pallets off the floor and those boxes can get done so much quicker so we can get them out of the way.

I'll edit as I find more things to complain about.

Edit:

Ignore the bad line work and weird perspective, but when I say that I value symmetry, this is what I mean:

Things need to line up together

Edit 2: Another example of my neurotic need for symmetry.

Plus I always put the nozzle throught the handle (which nobody else seems to do 😒) because it I don't, there will be cobwebs and dirt all over the handle, which I hate touching or getting near. I litterally spent 15 minutes banging it on the side of a cart, trying to get the cobwebs off until a coworker passed by and I made them grab it with a towel because I couldn't physically put my hands anywhere near it without gagging. I also work with and hold tarantulas, so it's not a spider issue. I just really hate the texture.

[mandyspeaks]

How is BPD created from a BPD perspective

In my experience BPD is created through fundamental abandonment trauma, particularly with family. I can give an example to show how this functions.

Let’s imagine Betty lives on a planet far away, where it is customary for family members to always shake hands when they see each other. Betty sees other families doing this all the time. She sees her own family members shaking hands with each other. Yet for some reason, none of the family members will shake Betty’s hand. They simply refuse to and ignore her when she tries. Eventually Betty gives up trying.

When you’re a child, you often don’t have enough context for how healthy families work, to know that there’s anything dysfunctional about yours. In this case, the child is more likely to draw the painful conclusion that they are the problem. It’s not the adults for refusing to shake her hand, she must not be worthy of it. She internalizes this shame as a permanent core sense of self when relating to the world. She enters the world through the filter of “I’m not worthy. There is something inherently wrong with me.”

Later in life Betty falls in love and enters a romantic relationship. She finally has someone who will shake her hand upon greeting like she always wanted. Which possibly contradicts her feeling that she is not worthy.

For this reason her ego will hold on to this romantic partner in a way that idolizes them. They’re not just bringing her love, they’re validating her entire sense of selfhood.

One day her partner is in a bad mood and does not shake her hand upon entering their home. For couples that grew up in healthy homes, this would happen from time to time and be forgivable.

For Betty, she is actually reliving her childhood trauma of being denied a handshake. Her partner is not intending to hurt her, and cannot understand the seemingly disproportionate reaction.

Betty’s body is remembering all of the exact same sensations she went through when her own family would refuse to shake her hand. She is actively experiencing a PTSD flashback. On top of that, the experience is validating her core sense of shame and unworthiness.

Someone she once saw as someone totally different from those who betrayed her, is now acting the same way. To Betty, she feels like she cannot escape this pattern, because deep down, she is not worthy of having her hand shook.

Betty is in so much emotional turmoil during this flashback that she says angry and somewhat hurtful things to her partner. Her thoughts are racing and she feels like a hurt child again. In the moment, she feels that she is doing what she can to reveal this deep seated pain to her partner, which is so painful that it comes out laced with anger and betrayal that is not solely from this moment, but decades deep. She isn’t just speaking to her partner in this moment, she is speaking to her family members who neglected and abandoned her.

Betty tells her partner she doesn’t want to speak to them anymore. Betty does not feel she is worthy of having her needs met, so she has to find another way to get them met. By pushing her partner away, part of her hopes that they will “realize” the truth of her pain and validate it. But her partner doesn’t understand why she is having such a strong reaction.

Eventually the PTSD flashback will fade away and for Betty it will feel like she is coming down off of a bad drug mixed with an angry panic attack. and Betty’s rational mind will start to see the situation as it is. For a BPD person an argument can feel like waking up with a bad hangover and seeing you texted your ex, but worse. It’s waking up to reality and seeing you have said things you know are unreasonable and pushed away the one person who showed you love.

The truth of BPD is that to an outsider, our behavior may seem unreasonable and difficult. But to that person, there are many layers of trauma and context that have led to these specific rejections being profoundly painful, especially when coming from someone you love.

[purplerakath]

School Spirits - Tragedy and Despair

So I've been rewatching the whole thing, and with the ending in mind a pattern emerged. Which I think ties it all together very cleanly on a narrative and thematic note, across (most) of the characters connected to the hereafter.

Spoilers for- everything.

So every ghost we really get to know has one thing in common with each other, one line that can be easily summed up by Maddie:

"She killed my spirit."

Rhonda was just betrayed by the person she trusted most. Charley had just destroyed the heart of the person he loved most. Wally got his entire being crushed by his mother's fervor for his success for her. Dawn had her entire world shatter because none of her friends liked her. Maddie had just been emotionally destroyed by her mother's betrayal.

And Simon did not know what to do next without Maddie in his life.

I include Simon because, like Maddie, his tether to the hereafter happened while alive. And that's why the pattern works so well. I don't think the tragic death is enough here. I don't think they just have to die with unfinished business. They have to already be destroyed by something in the living world to trap them in the other world.

Maddie heard Janet before she died. She could see Janet and Mr. Martin before her body got taken for a joyride. And she got there because of who she is. Because, if we trust Sandra in the finale, Maddie will fight for you. So hearing someone in distress, of course Maddie runs into the trouble.

The Theme

So this shared detail gives everyone the same tragedy, a betrayal at the heart of what's trapped them in place. A common through line of every character we have. Which can get improved by adding more examples, I'm guessing Season 2 someone else in Maddie's living circle will be able to see her, and I imagine it'll be whoever gets emotionally destroyed early in the S2 Premiere.

My bet, for the record, is Claire or Xavier. Claire I think has the strongest impact, her life is also a disaster but out of focus while she was 'the most obvious non-red herring suspect.' But I can see it being 'boy who nearly died with an abusive as hell powermad father' just- being destroyed by anything there. Hell, I can see 'my ex-girlfriend nearly killed me with my truck' leaving a lasting impression on his psyche too.

This shared point of trauma, different kinds but the same timeline, is too many examples to be dismissed. And every narrative has a degree of facing, and accepting, that pain. We've seen small steps from everyone towards this, but nobody really getting there because they wanted a Season 2.

We don't know the exact mechanism for how Dawn left, and I don't know if we will ever see it unless they decide that Mina or the Band Ghosts move on. We know that healing is probably internal, because it didn't move Charley on. He healed Emilio, but that isn't looking at the pain in Charley's chest.

The Flaw

The big caveat is that there are four ghosts (three ghosts and one group) we've met but don't have evidence of a tragedy before their death.

Mr. Martin

Janet

Mina

Band Kids

Mina's high strung, but we don't know the extent of what happened to her before she died. I can see her being belittled or dismissed as the high strung stage crew she is right before her death from the bright lights.

The Band Kids don't really have innate personalities and if they were all pretty normal beforehand, they could undermine everything. However based on the way those guys interact I think they were at each other's throats on the bus, and haven't forgiven each other.

The last two are the big mystery for S2 so we'll find out as S2 rolls along, whenever it happens. They aren't a point of disproving things, rather they are just the next natural stop in the story.

[jarenka]

I finally watched the whole first season of Ahsoka. I enjoyed some scenes but overall it did nothing to me. Initially I wanted to reblog this post by @gffa with some of my thoughts because I am very much agree with her "so much less than it could be" point of view. But. I was thinking about anything that Filoni could show us and I think I found a pattern.

I am writing fics for 15+ years, and back in my teens/early 20s I had a huge problem with writing conflicts in fics. I still suck at it, but back in the days I just completely avoided any serious conflicts both between characters and in narrative. Characters are deeply angry at each other in canon? They will speak for a half of the page and now they are best friends! X deeply hurts Y? They will speak half of the page and it will have no impact on their relationship! X suffers from trauma that can't be completely ignored in the fic? Well, I will do anything to talk about it as little as possible. X did a bad thing that will impact other characters' lifes? Either I won't show any consequences of his actions to the reader, or there will be no consequences because of some deus ex machina final.

Ahsoka show seem to have the exact same problem. It tries to have serious tone but runs away from any serious conflict. Sabine lost her family but it only briefly mentioned, she is traumatised, but never acts like a traumatised grown up woman, only like a moody teenager. Ahsoka is afraid to become just like Anakin, but it is super vague, he is just big bad and she kinda afraid to become big bad (or unintentionally turn Sabine into a big bad?.. ugh), we never seen her failing on screen, and after Anakin and Ahsoka talked for a bit she is fine again, uwu! Ahsoka's and Sabine's past is never properly explored on screen. Sabine and Ezra never had a proper conversation about what she did. Thrawn is another vague big bad who wants to make big bad things, so we never see any character reflecting their grievances against Empire or Thrawn himself. There is a lot of space in different episodes to remind what kind of horror Empire brings to the Galaxy, but all we see is some abstract phrases about "doing what right". Also, there is nothing to show that there is a full conspiracy going on, not just a blue dude with tattered remnants of his crew and couple of fanatics waiting for him to return.

As the result everything seem superficial, stakes are artificially lowered, because if Filoni digged deeper into any character ot theme, he wouldn't be able to glaze over conflicts and serious topics.

Overall I have an impression that the show hints some dramatic events and new facinating lore, but it never actually leads anywhere. Filoni just relies on fans to overanalyze everything and find a Deep Meaning.

[drdemonprince]

Thanks so much for sharing the piece on memory foaming, and also for the replies since then, insisting that it can't be a positive thing. My first relationship fell apart directly because of this type of trauma pattern. My partner was deeply in the habit of using fawn responses to deal with their mother's abusive behaviour, and even though we had a lot of conversations about feeling safe to be emotionally open with each other, multiple things happened where I found out afterwards that they'd made a major decision to do the exact opposite of what they actually wanted, because they assumed it was what I would want, expected me to pressure them to do that thing, and expected a bad reaction when they eventually backed out of it.

It felt awful. It felt like they were assuming I would be cruel to them, without giving me a chance to show that I wouldn't behave the way their mother did. Being unable to look at another person without that lens of expected cruelty means you're projecting too much to actually see the other person for who they are. It felt like being repeatedly lied to, and not being able to trust that any of the affection and love was genuine, because so many things were inauthentic that the whole relationship just didn't have a secure foundation.

We decided to be just friends after the relationship ended, and it was amazing how they immediately went back to treating me as a person and as an equal, instead of all this dehumanising fear and dishonest fawning. I understand exactly how people end up stuck in trauma patterns like that, it's a very understandable response for a child in an unsafe situation, it makes sense that it happens. But the difference between a respectful loving relationship between equals, and a mess of fearful codependent tiptoeing - it just feels so utterly, profoundly different to experience those two things. It's sad to see someone asking repeatedly whether memory foaming could be a good thing in a relationship, because fawning/memory foaming is just so fundamentally opposite to "being considerate of how you affect other people's emotions" - like it's just not the same thing at all, it comes from a completely different understanding of how human beings relate to each other. If you've ever experienced a healthy alternative to that fawning/foaming pattern, I don't think it's possible to see it as a good thing.

♥️♥️♥️

Thank you for sharing this. I think the person asking that question is aiming to see the strengths in how they function and to question a lot of pernicious norms regarding hyper independence in relationships, and i am with them on that, but i dont think anything in the neighborhood of memory foaming is a workable solution.

and i see so much of my past self reflected in your story of your ex. it chills me honestly. i have past partners who could have said the exact same things about me.