#me when I have a friend group and family and support but the isolation continues to hit anyways

[soullessjack]

oh my god I know I’ve mentioned it before but I rlly cant stop thinking about it. don’t go into the woods is literally the pinnacle of autistic representation (to me). bear with me because I have a migraine and am struggling to stay conscious but. There are just so many various autistic experiences shown throughout the episode and what happens to jack in it. Like it’s borderline upsetting (for me) to watch because of how resonating they are.

firstly, jack actively wants to try and put himself out there. He wants to make friends and have normal human experiences even if he can’t exactly stop being ‘special.’ (Also, he does specifically say that he is “himself” again once his powers are back, so it’s like, yes that is something he more or less sees as an inherent part of himself, but I think the part he struggles with is the consequential nature of his powers and who he is. as I’ve said before, it’s one thing to simply be different than it is to be treated differently. )

furthermore, once jack realizes the kids are basically ‘safe’ to be honest with, as they’re aware of monsters, he’s the exact opposite of shy about his powers. that’s one thing about him I really love . Like he LOVES to show off and impress people and be praised/appreciated by others.it’s such a silly trait I wish was characterized more often. He also just instantly starts unmasking and info dumping Twice about Haitian zombie law (to Sam and Dean) and how to kill monsters god he’s so special you don’t understand. He is not a gatekeeper you WILL be forced to know about his special interests.

however even tho jack is shown to be very proud of his abilities and hunting knowledge the very Minute that he senses the other kids think he’s weird (Reminding everyone that they were judgy from the start and did not in fact invite him over because they like him) he just Cannot Stand It . That’s the consequential part yknow. Like jack does see and feel his powers as just an inherent part of him (which they Are), he’s literally said they feel like breathing. It’s just Who He Is yknow. but the consequential part of it is that people are either afraid of him, they hate him, or they think he’s weird. And jack doesn’t like any of that shit. He doesn’t like being cast out or defined by the thing that makes him a little more different.

‘he’s back to being the oddball.’ back to it, like that’s just the unfortunate default he’s stuck filling. (Also on another note I think it’s really sad on that he can already recognize the particular facial expression for “We Think You’re A Freak”). It’s like he can just sense the rejection and isolation before he even actually receives it, and the mere perception of that is enough to totally throw him off. Totally not an experience any autistic person has ever felt before. Totally not similar to a particular co-morbid form of dysphoria that commonly plagues autistic individuals. Not at all.

This episode has probably the most bleak ending to me? Not in a competitive sort of way, the show has gotten far bleaker I am aware. But in both the original script (that got entirely changed) and the actual episode, it ultimately ends with Jack just not having friends. We’ve all seen the episode I won’t recap that far. Head still hurts bad. But In the script, Jack only ever shows the kids various combat moves with an angel blade, and the accidental stabbing is by Eliot, and Jack healing Stacey is basically the Big Reveal of his powers and , as the script above shows, what he Really is. ?.

I guess all of the combined stress and just shock of the monster world (Eliot is previously shown to be basically paranoid of things out to get him earlier in the script) is enough for the kids to very gently let jack down and say they’ll see him again or something, but it literally ends with jack’s inner monologue that he knows he’s never gonna see them again, and going “so much for having friends.” The End.

And idk. To me It’s just so. Isolating. Like. You try and make friends and be a little normal and belong somewhere else for once but the entire time you get the vague sense that you’re still too weird and out of place, that everyone else also thinks you’re weird and out of place. You’re so used to rejection that the impending sense of it starts looming over you, but you still wanna put yourself out there! You still want to at least try! And then you get the pile of bricks dropped on your head. The Impending Rejection. Everyone leaves you alone again and you’re left with the solidified knowledge that you are in fact, too weird and too different to belong anywhere else, to have friends. You can’t be normal or accepted, you’ll always be alone and isolated and rejected.

Autism 101 yay

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello, I really enjoy your reader and Donna writing and I’m always happy to see you update. No pressure, but could you write something where reader starts teasing g!p Donna by grinding against her lap while she’s trying to read or sew or something, and she continues stimulating her this way until Donna is a trembling mess and she finishes in her dress still fully clothed? Donna can then return the favor for the reader as well.

Yess!!!! Thank you for your kind words, your support is very important to me!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

To avoid the shyness

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI

Word count: 6,184

Summary: Maybe you have to be more direct for her to pay attention to you...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :)) This weekend I'm not at home, so I won't be able to write!! You can keep sending requests anyway, on Monday I'll continue writting your worderful ones!!! :)))))

Carefully, you opened the door.

Darkness had already fallen over the old estate when you returned from one of your usual visits to the village.

It hadn't been long since you had abandoned your boring village life to venture into a stage, one you hadn't expected, but for which you couldn't help but thank the Black Gods.

Life in that place was always a difficult task. Isolated from the world, locked in that stretch of land for the rest of your life, villagers like you reacted in different ways.

Some gave up, others fulfilled their obligations, and others ignored the problem. You were part of that last group, one that accepted where they were, that looked for ways to forget that situation in the simplest way: adapting to it.

You didn't have an unhappy life, you had friends, family; you had everything necessary to think that, unlike many of your friends, you had been lucky.

But that kind of innate fortune only improved with the passage of time, and, as a reward for your devotion and attitude towards that dark life, love appeared for you.

An unexpected love, a dangerous love and one that you considered impossible.

No one in their right mind would dare to think of any of the Lords in a romantic way, but, again, you were an exception in that place. Little by little, and after proving you were not like all the villagers, you managed to gain the attention of Miranda, and of the Lady of the Castle.

An extraordinary milestone, but it was nothing compared to winning the love of Donna Beneviento by chance, chance which might not be a trustworthy entity, but for you, it was much more powerful than the Gods themselves.

Problems, psychosis, nervous breakdowns, fear of losing you... The flaws of the lady in black went far beyond what an ordinary person could bear. Once again you overcame those obstacles with admirable grace.

Nothing, no previous romance had ever made you feel anything like being in Donna's arms, receiving her kisses, her caresses, contemplating that beauty she tried so hard to hide. You were hopelessly in love, and determined not to return to your old home, except for fleeting visits.

Like many people before you, with effort and determination, you managed to forge your own path, your own love story, one that you would never want to change, one that you had committed to forever.

After one of those visits to your old life, you returned to the mansion after nightfall and, discreetly, you walked through the house trying not to disturb the lady's rest, although, deep down, you knew she was awake, waiting for you nervously, as always, as if afraid of you would never returning.

But that night was different, since the attitude of the Angie doll was chaotic and she always looked for an opportunity to get on your nerves. That night she hadn’t come out to meet you.

Slowly, you walked towards the living room, where a dim light illuminated your usual reading corner. A black figure rested on the sofa, Donna, surely tired of waiting for you.

You smiled when you saw her asleep, seeing how her hands held a book that she had not been reading for a while. You could probably consider yourself the luckiest girl in the village. No one would be able to see something that beautiful.

Carefully, you crouched over her, placing a hand on her shoulder, angry for disturbing that innocent sight of someone you knew wasn't innocent.

“Hey, Donna,” you whispered tenderly, accompanying your voice with the movements of your hand, eliciting an adorable grunt from the brunette, who shifted on the couch before startling, causing you to step back in amusement.

“Non sono stato io!” she shouted hurriedly, confused, with her eye wide open. You, holding back your laughter, let yourself fall on the couch next to her, gently rubbing her back.

“What were you dreaming about?” you asked curiously, taking advantage of her newly awakened confusion to steal a tender kiss on her lips, with which she sighed in relief, rubbing her eye with her hand.

“(Y/N)… You're back,” she murmured with her voice still sleepy. You nodded with a mocking smile. “What time is it?”

“Late,” you whispered amused, keeping the smile with your eyebrows slightly arched. “Hey, you did it again.”

“Mm?” she murmured, yawning and looking at you curiously.

“Oh, come on, you know, waiting up for me, well, trying to,” you whispered in her ear to which she responded by shaking her head, with a fake smile.

“You know that when you leave the house I’m nervous, (Y/N),” she said with a more serious voice, stopping your attempts at affection with a hand on your chest. “I'm afraid that one day you won't come back.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes and looked for her hand to caress it.

“We've talked about this, Donna,” you said quietly, wishing with all your might that those jealousies and absurd fears would disappear. “You know I always come back.”

“I can't help it,” she said, looking away

“Well... It's okay,” you said, with a different sparkle in your eyes, with a desire that you had been having since you started the way back.

“Besides...”you whispered seductively, planting several kisses on her neck, causing that adorable laugh that indicated her fears were locked away again. “I’m hungry.”

“You always come back hungry,” Donna whispered in a joking tone, laughing at the caresses on her neck, at the hands that began to run along her legs. “But don't worry, I had already anticipated it.”

“Oh, really?” you said, with a frown and the same mischievous smile. “That's good because I really want to…”

“I've made you some dinner, I'm sure you haven't eaten anything,” the lady said suddenly, getting up from the couch and leaving you with your eyes wide open and your mouth dancing, confused by her attitude.

“Um, no, but, I, what I wanted to say…” you stammered, following the lady to the table, as if you were hypnotized.

“Here, eat, tesoro,” she indicated with a smile, discovering a small banquet just for you.

“Thanks, Donna, but…” you said automatically sitting down in the chair, receiving a kiss from the brunette, silencing you.

“I'm going to get something for me, that way it can be like we had dinner together,” she whispered with a tender smile, running a hand over your cheek, thus making you forget your true intentions.

“Uh, I… Okay,” you said, taking the cutlery and shaking your head. A sinister laughter got a little closer, squeaking in your ears.

“Loser,” a childish voice reached your ears and you turned your head sharply. The Angie doll attacked again.

“Oh, please, give me a break…” you sighed, clasping your hands together to emphasize your plea.

“(Y/N) fool, she wanted to make babies with Donna and she just…” the doll sang, abruptly interrupted by a slap that knocked her off the table.

“Shut up,” you hissed with a dangerous look, but mocking at the same time. “Tell me, Angie, why are you so damn shameless, and Donna seems to be so naive?” you asked curiously, a bit frustrated by your recent attempts to dance under the sheets, to feel again that intimate love that Donna seemed to have been ignoring for a while, surely without wanting to.

Donna had spent too much time alone.

The doll climbed back onto the table and shrugged, swinging her legs childishly.

“You’re part of the same mind, aren’t you?” you asked again, admiring out of the corner of your eye the delicious delicacy the lady in black had prepared for you.

“More or less,” the puppet replied, offended. “Do you want some advice?”

“No,” you replied curtly, shaking your head and keeping your gaze on the elevator hallway.

“Well, I’ll give you some,” the doll said, ignoring your answer, as always. “Donna doesn’t work with subtlety, if you want something from her, you have to be more direct.”

“I told you I didn’t want advice,” you protested, filling yourself a glass of water. “It’s none of your business, Angie.”

“Well, it turns out that seeing you begging for Donna to pay attention to you is not a pleasant sight for me, so yes, stupid, it is my business,” the doll defended herself, crossing her arms.

 You bit your lip to avoid an insult and decided to ignore the doll.

“Can I have dinner in peace?” you asked ironically, with your legs shaking with impatience. You wanted Donna to come up as soon as possible to end that uncomfortable conversation.

“She will never get your hints, you silly village girl,” the doll insisted, putting a wooden finger on your nose that you pushed away with another slap. “If you want something from her, you have to ask her or she will continue in her world of dolls and cheesy things.”

“Do you want to leave me alone? I told you that it is not your business,” you complained again, crossing your arms, with the blush of your discomfort appearing on your cheeks.

“What you have to do is be a little more direct, you know, for example: you can kneel down pretending that you dropped something and start sucking her…”

“Shut up!” you shouted embarrassed. “Just what I needed, a living doll giving me advice about my sex life…” you said incredulously, shaking your head.

Luckily, the sound of the elevator appeared before you threw the puppet into the warm fire of the fireplace.

“I'm here, tesoro,” the lady said, carrying some fruits with her to accompany you in your late dinner. You sighed in relief, with a smile.

“Thank you, because I was about to commit a ‘dollicide…’” you joked. Donna looked at the doll with one fiery eye and Angie fled the scene laughing mockingly, laughing at you, of course.

The dinner was quiet and you avoided thinking about the words of that doll by all means, although it was a difficult task.

“How do you do it?” you asked, wiping yourself with a napkin once you finished eating. The lady in black finished her orange and looked at you smiling, with a confused face.

“What do you mean?” she asked in a relaxed tone, tilting her head in an adorable way.

“I mean, of course, these edible masterpieces. You have an incredible talent, Donna,” you said, turning the conversation to a calmer one, without innuendos or ulterior motives.

“It's not talent, (Y/N) it's a matter of practice,” she said, with her usual modesty and insecurity. You sighed and nodded with a grimace of approval.

“I see,” you said with a tired sigh. “Hey, maybe you'd like to teach me.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to cook?” she asked, with excitement adorning her face. You smiled back, also excited by the idea.

“I would love to…”

The next day, just as you had asked, a culinary lesson that you had been wanting for a long time, awaited you. Angie's words kept echoing in your head, but they would surely fade away with a perfect morning with Donna, one like the thousands of them you wanted to live.

“What are you going to teach me?” you asked amused, already in the kitchen next to the lady in black, who smiled tenderly because you appreciated her skills.

Neither evil nor dangerous, Donna Beneviento was just a poor unfortunate soul who didn’t have the same luck as you. That was something you already knew, and you loved to see for yourself, to see that kindness, that tenderness.

“What do you know about cooking?” she asked back, blushing because of your hands on her waist and your expectant look.

“Well, I know… That is… a tomato, right?” you joked, pointing at the vegetables on the counter. Donna laughed amused, shaking her head and moving your hands away from her waist.

“Okay, first I'm going to teach you how to cut vegetables with a knife,” she said, ignoring your mischievous hands, your dangerous look. You put on a feigned look of surprise and blinked repeatedly.

“Oh, that sounds dangerous, what if I cut myself?” you joked, letting the lady put two of those tomatoes on top of a wooden board, picking up a knife amused and blushing at your attitude.

“If you do what I tell you, you'll never cut yourself, Tesoro,” she answered in a soft voice, indicating for you to take a look at the way she held the tool.

You looked at her, curious.

“See? If you put your fingers like this, the knife will never be able to cut you,” she explained, with a more serious tone while the silver dagger cut those tomatoes as if they were butter.

“It seems complicated,” you whispered with a frown, mesmerized by her quick movements.

“It may take you some time to get used to it at first, but it's basic to do everything else. You can't cook without fingers,” Donna said amused, with a somber voice and a mischievous look that you returned.

“Can’t I? Well, my aunt's neighbor only has three fingers and by his appearance he doesn't seem to be hungry,” you said ironically.

Donna laughed again, sighing and shaking her head.

“Take it seriously, tesoro, I don't want you to get hurt,” she whispered tenderly, without reproach.

“I’m taking it seriously,” you joked, crossing your arms. Donna sighed again, moving the knife with an elegant acrobatic movement and extending it towards you.

“Try, (Y/N),” she said with a satisfied smile, throwing the already cut tomatoes into a pot.

“Okay…” you said with the knife in your hand, approaching the wood and holding it in a way similar to her.

Well, if it wasn't your point of view, I would probably say that it didn't look anything like it. Advantages of an omniscient narrator…

“No, no, that's how you're going to cut yourself,” Donna interrupted you, holding your hand so you didn't sink the knife into the fruit, standing behind you. That position made you shiver, which you made disappear by blinking hard. “Let me help you…”

Slowly and with a delicacy impossible for anyone else, Donna took your hand, gently placing it in the correct way, poking her head over your shoulder, giving you more shivers.

There was a small tense moment when you turned your head and your smiles met. Having Donna behind you, moving your hands in such a… Sensual way, made you remember the puppet's words, made you unable to think of anything else.

“Just like that,” the lady whispered in your ear, moving your hand, carefully guiding the knife, cutting that tomato slowly, but almost perfectly. “Let it slide, don't force it...”

It could be the lack of intimate relationships or that you just had one thing on your mind, but that phrase made you squirm, forcing you to bite your lip.

You sighed at that sudden heat, exhaling something more like a moan than a sigh. As usual, Donna didn't seem to notice your sudden arousal.

You have to be direct

Angie's phrase involuntarily resonated in your ears

With a look she couldn't see, you moved, just enough for your bodies to collide irremediably. Your hips were asking for friction, and they were going to get it. Donna gasped in surprise at your sudden movement, holding you in case that unexpected contact was the result of a stumble. That made your arousal even worse, starting to move slowly against her.

Silence fell in the kitchen and your movements tirelessly brushed against the already incipient bulge between her legs. Donna was so sensitive, so… Perfect…

But your desire to play was even stronger than your lust. Without moving away from that erotic touch, you slowly cut a couple of tomatoes, following her advice while the hand that circled your waist kept you right where she wanted. Amused, you moaned softly, noticing how her hand moved away to go to the edge of your skirt, threatening to pull it down.

That touch, that touch with your clothes on was a sensation you didn't know you liked that much, and that you didn't want to lose so easily. With an indiscreet clearing of your throat, you moved away from the brunette, but without stopping to brush against her erection.

You glanced at her with dark eyes, biting your lip to provoke more involuntary movements of the doll maker's hips, who, with just a small touch, was already breathing nervously.

“How about this, Donna? Am I doing it right?” you asked in a velvety, hoarse and sensual tone. She swallowed and nodded, closing her eye to enjoy the contact even more.

That face beginning to be devoured by pleasure tickled between your legs, thus revealing to you a new way of feeling pleasure, of making her feel pleasure. The lady nodded, running her arms through yours, removing the knife from your hands and turning you around.

“What is the next lesson?” you asked with a smile, running a hand over her heaving chest, pulling her so she was very close to you again.

Donna didn't say anything, she simply returned that friction to her hips, rubbing against yours, grabbing your legs and leaning you over the counter, increasing the intensity of the rubbing of her erection between your legs, a new sensation for you, which you didn't want to lose.

As if the simple fact of provoking that lustful contact was already enough to make the lady in black go crazy, she put her hands in your dress, lowering your underwear slightly while you climbed onto the counter.

The kisses were wild and her movements followed that same rhythm. Well, at least it hadn't been that difficult to make the brunette see what your body was screaming for.

With a hurried moan, she released her erection from her black skirt, positioning herself at your entrance quickly, not wanting to waste time with the usual kisses and caresses.

Donna's haste only excited you even more, forcing you to hug the brunette with your legs while you felt the tip of her shaft in your wet folds.

“Hey! Let her go!” a terribly inopportune Angie shouted, appearing by surprise at the kitchen door.

Donna backed away in fright, keeping her embarrassment to herself again, trying in vain to pretend that nothing was happening.

“What the fuck...? Angie!” you shouted, pulling up your underwear and getting off the counter, exchanging pleasure for anger in less than a second. “Go away!”

“No!” the doll shrieked as the lady in black tried to compose herself, terribly embarrassed.

“Donna, it's Miranda, Miranda’s called,” the puppet said, ignoring your protests and pulling at Donna's black dress. She looked at her furiously.

“What does she want?” the lady asked, adjusting the fabric to hide her arousal.

“Meeting, there's a meeting,” Angie sang, having fun with your disoriented and frustrated look.

“Oh, come on…” you protested, running a hand through your hair, over your flushed face and crossing your arms.

“I'm, I'm sorry, (Y/N),” Donna stammered, picking up the doll in her arms and giving you a quick apologetic kiss, one that you growled indignantly at.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” you mocked unpleasantly, causing the lady to stop fleeing the kitchen, sighing and approaching you again.

“Hey, don't worry, tesoro, we could continue when I get back,” she whispered affectionately, moving Angie in her arms so she would stop hitting her shoulders impatiently.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, taking off your apron and looking away, letting her leave the room in a hurry.

No, you weren't going to continue. Meetings were always a torment for the lady in black. She loved her siblings, but she couldn't stop her fears, her irrational hatred for people, from making those meetings a bad experience for the doll maker.

She would come back exhausted, leaving you hanging once again.

But if that little encounter served any purpose, it was for you to find a new way to provoke her, a direct one, just as the annoying Angie suggested. It seemed innocent, a simple touch, but, of course, it was much more than that for Donna.

Normally, turning her on wasn't a complicated task, she was very sensitive and you loved it. You simply looked for a way to do it in a subtle way, with just your words, or with your soft touches. But her gaze, her throbbing erection against your body told you that this was going to be very funny, too much funny.

The idea of ​​intimacy disappeared the moment the lady returned, as you thought, exhausted.

But you didn't take it badly, not at all. In fact, that night you slept very well, with a naughty idea in your mind, one that you would put into practice the next day.

Just as you had evilly planned, that day started normally: kisses, words of love, innocent caresses, nothing that seemed to remind the brunette of your growing desire.

But that would end soon.

During the quiet hours of tea and reading you shared with Donna, your instincts moved through you, forcing you to brush against her body again, to grant her that look, those gasps of pleasure. In a less subtle way, you climbed into her lap, rubbing yourself against her body, provoking that previous excitement again, feeling pleasure for it. Maybe that was much better than a passionate outburst.

But you had a flaw, and that was your vengeful side. If you had to find someone to blame, it would be Angie, but you couldn't forget that moment when everything vanished and abstinence returned to your way of life.

With that evil intention, you tried to let Donna not be able to release, to go further, lifting you from her lap when she was already a trembling mess. That game of yours lasted for several days and Donna didn't seem angry about it, she only protested with high-pitched moans and a pleading eye.

Could it be that this lustful touch was also terribly exciting for her?

Shortly after her breathing calmed down, naivety returned to her face and the smile returned to her mouth, as if she forgave that little moment of pleasure that didn't come to an end, as if she felt the same fun as you.

“Hello,” you greeted amused, bursting into the doll workshop while Donna was working on her dolls, as concentrated as always. Yes, of course, your plan was to make her lose that concentration.

“Mm,” a murmur was her answer, along with a gesture of her hand for you to come closer.

After spending days distracting her with your touch, you only had one moment left, one moment to make her lose her cool, in a good way of course.

Following the steps of her family, Donna spent hours making those dolls that you had no special sympathy for. That was the only time she could escape your lust, you hoped until that moment.

“What are you doing, my love?” you asked, hanging on to her shoulders and capturing her lips. Donna's tender smile almost made you forget your intentions, almost.

For her, a kiss from you was an eternal reminder of fidelity, that you would never abandon her.

“I’m working on my dolls,” she answered innocently, relaxing her smile and concentrating again on the dress she was sewing.

“Oh, I see,” you joked, resting your head on hers, massaging her shoulders slowly. She moved a to push you away, indicating that you were bothering her. “If you want, I'll go…” you sighed, pretending sadness and getting up.

She stopped sewing and looked at you with a sad eye, with an apologetic look.

“No, tesoro, I… I'm sorry,” she said with a soft voice, caressing your hand so you wouldn't move, so you would stay there. “I just don't want to stick the needle in my hand.”

“Mm” you murmured, nodding, coming closer again and watching her work, something you could do for hours. “I'd like to learn how to sew,” you said with disinterest, admiring her quick movements on the old machine.

Donna laughed and shook her head, admiring that new little dress, ready to be sheathed in one of the porcelain pieces.

“You want to learn a lot of things lately,” she whispered, running her finger along the seams, checking that she had done a good job despite your annoying presence.

You nodded, blinking mockingly.

“I like the way you teach me,” you whispered in her ear, massaging her shoulders again. She laughed nervously and shook her head, looking at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I think what you like to do is something else, tesoro,” she commented amused, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it quickly.

Well, yes, maybe you shouldn't have taken her for a stupid woman, she wasn't.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” you said, feigning confusion, biting her earlobe, causing the lady to fidget nervously in her chair.

“I think you have,” she replied dryly, admiring the other pieces of fabric on the table.

“You're so tense, Donna…” you hissed in her ear, intensifying your massage.

“You've made me tense, (Y/N),” she said, breathing hard.

“How?” you asked amused, surrounding her so she had no choice but to look at your face.

“You, you know how…” she said, starting to babble while you maintained a cocky pose and a dark look. “Doing… That to me…”

“Oh, this?” you said abruptly, standing in front of her and settling on her lap, something she didn't reject, as her hands surrounded your body.

“Yes…” she sighed when your hips began to move in a subtle way, in a way you knew drove her crazy, even though she still didn't admit it, yet.

“You don't like it?” you asked in a melodic voice, slightly increasing the intensity of your hip movements, already noticing that delicious bulge between her legs.

“Yes, yes, I, I like it but...” the lady stammered, embarrassed because her body had given her away, following your touch in a rhythmic way, silencing any protest by drowning it with a moan, with her eye closed while her hands caressed your back.

You smiled triumphantly, kissing her neck slowly, running your tongue over her pale skin while her hands guided your hips to deepen that subtle touch. Well, you had managed to distract her from her dolls, it was quite a milestone.

“You're so sensitive, Donna, I love you…” you whispered lovingly, taking your time to move, to feel her erection as intensely as possible, which caused her nails to scratch the fabric of your dress and rest her head on your shoulder, making an amused attempt to nod.

“Don’t, don't go this time, please,” she begged with another moan, when your kisses reached her lips and her hands pressed your hips against hers, harder than usual. Maybe Donna had already reached her limit, good.

“Mm,” you murmured amused, playing with your body on her lap, increasing the intensity of her discreet moans with your touch. “Only if you behave, Donna…”

“Yes, yes, I…” she whispered, moaning more indiscreetly when you stopped your movements to slide your hand between her legs, to grab her erection through the black fabric of the dress. “Take it out, please, I need you…”

“Oh, you're so impatient…” you mocked, letting her shaft go and cupping her face in your hands, her confused and disoriented face. “No, no, Donna…”

“Please, stop…” she said, nervously, pulling at the fabric of your dress when her words weren't enough to stop you from moving.

Her body trembled and her breathing betrayed concern. Only one thing could happen to her, something that just thinking about it made you writhe in pleasure.

“Why? You like it,” you said, pouting, kissing her lips in a treacherous way, caressing her breasts, squeezing them gently in your hands.

The increase in your impudence only served to make her protest with a moan, moving her legs in frustration at your refusal to grant her that pleasure. No, that was a game you thought you would win.

“Yes, I like it, (Y/N) but I want… I want to make you mine, please…” Donna said, resting her head on your chest, running away from your provocative caresses while your body kept insisting, kept dancing with hers, kept brushing against her arousal.

“Are you in a hurry, my love?” you mocked, lifting her chin with your finger.

Her forehead was sweating as she nodded profusely, panting and moaning desperately for that desired contact, contact that you gave her, but not in the way she wanted, of course.

“Yes, if you don't stop, I'm going to…” she said, closing her eye tightly, but involuntarily increasing the friction with your hips.

“You are going to what? My precious Donna…” you mocked again, fighting your own moans, wanting to be the undisputed queen of the situation. “Oh, honey… Don't tell me you're going to…”

“(Y/N), please…” she murmured erratically, outlining with her words a mischievous smile on your face.

You really didn't think you'd go that far, but this situation was being terribly exciting, the moisture growing between your legs confirmed it.

Could she reach the limit just with your touch? There was only one way to find out.

“Shh, relax… You're so good, Donna, so sensitive, so… Beautiful,” you whispered tenderly, relaxing your movements, showering the lady in black with compliments, with those words that you knew sent shivers down her spine.

A muffled moan left her lips, leaning towards you, keeping the pressure of your body on hers as her body trembled with her shameful release, causing her wetness to soak the fabric of her dress.

“Cazzo, (Y/N)…” she sighed, letting her body relax after her unexpected ejaculation caused by your incessant rubbing.

She was wonderful, certainly, and as dirty as it seemed, you could only feel tenderness.

“What a mess you've made, huh?” you said amused, looking down at that subtle stain of moisture that corrupted the darkness of her dress. She kept her eye closed, and her cheeks flushed.

“This is… Embarrassing…” she sighed, shaking her head, trying to relax her breathing.

“Why? I found it so sexy,” you purred in her ear, running your hand over that moisture, enjoying her heat, a treacherous and improvised heat. Donna shook her head, also looking down and running a hand over her forehead.

“Are you happy now?” the lady asked, looking at the mess in her dress, but keeping you on her lap while you covered her with caresses. “Look what you've done.”

“Um…” you laughed amused, stealing a kiss from the embarrassed lady, who narrowed her eye at your shameless attitude. “I’m proud.”

Donna laughed ironically, looking away. Although she seemed upset, you knew she wasn't at all.

“Now what, huh? Oh, I'm going, I'm going to clean me up,” she said, pushing you off her lap and looking sadly at the stain on her dress. You were quicker than her, stopping her embarrassed escape with a hand on her wrist.

“Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you're going?” you said in a husky tone, pulling her body towards yours, running your tongue over your lips.

“I already told you, I'm going, I'm going to clean me up,” she repeated, displaying her infinite naivety. You pouted and shook your head, wrapping your arms around her neck and whispering very close to her lips.

“No, no, no, my precious, Donna, I think you owe me a favor,” you said sensually, running your tongue over her lips. Her gaze remained dark, but her hands traveled to your cheek, gently brushing it with her thumb as she shook her head.

“The favor of ruining my dress?” she commented, with a tender look, far removed from the embarrassment of moments before. You pretended to think about it and then nodded with a smile.

“Exactly,” you said in a brusque tone, arching your eyebrows in a threatening manner. Donna seemed to think too and then shook her head, stealing an unexpected kiss from you.

“Okay, but let me take a shower first,” she whispered, kissing your cheek before letting your hand go and turning around. You, again, prevented her. “(Y/N)…”

“Stay still, huh? You’ve been running away from me for too long,” you said in a threatening tone, kissing her and slowly bending down until you were kneeling on the floor.

“What are you…? (Y/N)!” she squealed in surprise when your mischievous hands lowered the bottom of her dress, giving you a privileged view of the mess you had caused.

“Relax, I’ll take care of this. Do you think that will be enough to be able to return the favor, Donna?” you said amused, grabbing her shiny shaft with your hand and moving it slowly with a mischievous look.

“(Y/N), don't do that, not now,” she protested.

Well, she protested with her words, actually, she didn't make any attempt to get away from your intentions.

“Why not? You're delicious, Donna,” you whispered mischievously, running your tongue over her skin, tasting the product of your provocation, the sweet taste of her release.

“Don't, say... Those... Things...” Donna sighed, not being able to help but moan when your mouth embraced her flesh, when your lips withdrew her shame while your hand followed the rhythm, stimulating, noticing how her erection was forming again.

“It's the truth,” you said, pulling away for a moment, looking at the result of your obscene gesture before sucking the tip, causing a moan from the brunette, who grabbed your head keeping it in the desired place.

Perfect, she was crazy with pleasure again.

“It's so hard…”

“(Y/N) I… Don't stop…” she moaned, now freed from her shyness, gently moving her hips so your mouth could travel all over her shaft, so your hand could play with it slowly while your lips caressed it.

“Mm yes, I'm going to stop,” you said with disinterest, getting up from the floor, but continuing with your caresses.

“(Y/N),” Donna protested, already at the limit again. “Go down, go down again, per, please...” she said with a pleading tone.

You shook your head, pulling her hand and dragging her towards one of the work tables, getting rid of your underwear and shamelessly showing your wet entrance, separating your legs.

“Come here, doll face, return the favor to me...” you hissed, making a suggestive gesture with your finger. Donna nodded, grabbing your face and pulling it to kiss you passionately, while her body was already burning in contact with yours.

“You are incorrigible,” she whispered in your ear, positioning her shaft at your entrance, moaning at the moisture that made contact with hers as she entered slowly, letting your body get used to it.

“Donna… You are so… Big…” you moaned, feeling a pleasurable relief at noticing her inside of you, at feeling again that pleasure you had such a hard time getting from the shy Beneviento woman.

“Don't protest, you owe me this,” she said, in a dark voice, entering completely and starting to move, making your walls stretch in a way that made you moan, completely losing control of the situation.

Now your moans were the ones that bathed the workshop. The obscene sound of your bodies colliding seemed to want to crack the walls.

You burned with pleasure, moving as best you could, avoiding feeling too close, avoiding Donna thinking that you were the desperate one, although she may have already known that. She wasn't stupid, she never was.

“That's it, that's it, darling…” you gasped when her hands lifted your legs, positioning them on top of her shoulder so she could harden her almost rabid thrusts. “Oh, Donna…”

“(Y/N),” the lady moaned in response, closing her eye and letting herself be carried away by the inertia of her erratic movements, stopping right in the places you needed. “You, hold me… so tightly…”

“Of course, my body loves you, I love you, Donna,” you said with the tenderness that the growing intensity of the movements allowed you, just before your body gave you away, leaning, tensing and emitting a thunderous moan that bounced off the wooden limbs hanging from the ceiling.

Your orgasm and the nervous tightening of your walls caused the lady in black to release herself again, like in a coordinated symphony, flooding you with her heat, letting out a gasp of exhaustion from her lips, leaning her head forward and trembling again, staying hopelessly inside of you.

“(Y/N)…. You are… You are…” she murmured, moving closer to give you a quick kiss while you laughed in amusement.

“Now you know what happens when you neglect me for too long, Donna,” you joked, moving your body so the mixed moisture between your legs massaged your hot entrance.

“What?” Donna asked, confused, frowning. “Did I neglect you?”

“Uh-huh,” you affirmed with a childish look, with a good girl smile that didn’t match your posture. “But don't worry, I can teach you to change that, unless you like having to do the laundry more often…”

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

By Chauncey Devega

As I have previously explored in a series of conversations with cult and mind control expert Steven Hassan, Donald Trump meets most if not all the characteristics of a cult leader. Trump holds extreme power over his followers, who subsume their own identities and will to him. He persuades them to reject their own perceptions of reality and to trust only him and his approved messengers. To a large degree, they have lost the ability to engage in what psychologists describe as "reality testing."

Trump's mug shot, taken at the Fulton County jail in Atlanta last Thursday, is as an image of murderous rage and a bottomless lust for revenge. Trump has already used it to raise yet more campaign cash. In all probability, Trump's upcoming criminal trials will only make him more popular and powerful among his core followers, not less.

Like other cult movements, the MAGA phenomenon is rooted in manipulation and psychological abuse. Trump effectively exploits the death anxieties and other existential fears of his followers, presenting himself as their only protector and savior. The MAGA cult is authoritarian, preying on lonely, socially isolated and otherwise vulnerable people and providing them with a sense of order, meaning, community and destiny.

A poll conducted from Aug. 16 to 18 by CBS News/YouGov demonstrates just how firm Trump's power over his followers continues to be. A large majority of Republican voters view Trump as "honest and trustworthy," which would be hilarious if it were not deeply alarming. Furthermore, "Trump's voters hold him as a source of true information, even more so than other sources, including conservative media figures, religious leaders, and even their own friends and family." When asked who they believe tells them the truth, 71% of Trump voters picked him, more than picked friends and family members (63%), right-wing media commentators (56%) and religious leaders (only 42%).

Beyond the numbers, mental health expert Dr. Justin Frank, author of the bestseller "Trump on the Couch," perceives a tragic and pathetic human dimension to the CBS News poll, as he told me by email:

“What this poll doesn't measure or explain is the cause and effect of the profound loyalty of Trump's core supporters. It's this factor that continues to baffle pundits and call into question everything we thought we knew about American politics and the future of democracy. How did these startling figures come to be?

Trump taps into specific needs certain people have to love and to feel loved in return. People who feel they have been lied to — whether as children or adults — yearn for a person or group to trust, in which to place unwavering faith. While I think this type of blind loyalty to Trump is a delusion, it's also a common human experience. In some people it overwhelms an otherwise healthy emotional state in which most of us simultaneously understand that authority figures can be both admirable and disappointing. Televangelists are able to captivate and exploit their vulnerable audiences for this reason. It's also why cash (from many who can ill afford it) pours into Trump's coffers each time he's indicted for a new crime.

As I wrote in 'Trump on the Couch,' Donald Trump himself felt lied to by his parents, which binds him and his fan base even closer. Trump provides the kind of love they crave because he instinctively meets those unconscious needs, in part because he shares them unconsciously himself.”

Frank further suggests that Trump "invites maternal love" from many of his followers, who "are touched at a deep level by their awareness of his neediness, which endears them to him":

“In his rallies he repeats 'believe me' the way a child does when telling a lie or feeling unloved. He is quick to ... paint himself as a maligned victim. He becomes someone they want to protect from assault ... [by] sharing his sense of betrayal with his audience and psychologically merging with their own histories of having been disappointed. What evolves is an inability to differentiate oneself from the idolized other that results in an emotional bond that is deep and thrilling to share. To those outside the mystical Trump romance, this unconditional love makes no sense. We call that kind of love a cult. How can such an overt liar and accused criminal can be so admired?”

What we don't remember when we see such a cult in operation, Frank says, is that all children seek to protect "the image of their loved parents from the inevitable disbeliefs and hurts that even the best parents create":

“They do this by splitting their early experiences into good and bad, black and white. What evolves is a yearning for comfort, aided by binary thinking, from a figure who is only good, despite any evidence to the contrary.

So, here we are as a nation, confused and divided in the darkness of our deepest fears and needs. Trump offers his devoted flock a shared sense of purpose and meaning. They've been groomed to look outside for someone to safeguard their best interests and provide shared faith and support. I think it may not be possible for those diehard Trump adherents to discover that this a dangerous illusion.”

I also asked Jen Senko, director of the documentary "The Brainwashing of My Dad," about what insights she could share on the findings of the CBS News poll regarding Trump's hold over his followers. She said she found it "stupid, and maddening, that many on television 'news' seem shocked" by the poll's findings:

“Have they been living under a rock? More likely they've been living in denial because it's a lot easier than accepting the truth. ... Though many of us understand this now, too little emphasis has been put on how millions of Americans lost their minds and became right-wing zombies. It's the media, stupid! ... As someone who saw the writing on the wall decades ago and made a documentary about it in 2016, it's particularly frustrating. Too many people laughed at Rush Limbaugh. Too many people thought Fox News was a legitimate 'conservative' alternative to the 'liberal media.' Too many people didn't question the barrage of email propaganda (often put out by think tanks and disguised as homespun bits of wisdom) emphasizing over and over: Democrats bad, Democrats evil. Democrats not real Americans. Republicans are all that is good and holy.

Limbaugh was allowed to get on the Armed Forces Network. Fox News is still on it, and became the go-to news station for bus stations, airports, restaurants, bars, doctors' offices. When humans immerse themselves in false information that gets repeated, it stands to reason that millions of them become "cultified" right-wing zombies. What can be done about it, I leave to the experts. When will America acknowledge that we are in an information war? That's what worries me every day.”

Former right-wing pundit Rich Logis was immersed in TrumpWorld and the MAGA movement for years, but managed to escape. He said it was an "irrefutable fact" that MAGA had a cultlike ethos:

“I know this because I was once quite deep in the MAGA rabbit hole. Had Trump won in 2020, I probably would have gone deeper into it, with the odds of escaping close to zero.

There are two prevailing ties that bind the MAGA cult. The first is that Trump is an omniscient, omnipotent, martyred savior of America; some believe him to be sent by God. (Note that Ron DeSantis poached this heresy last year, in his re-election campaign.) Martyrdom is the final stage of cult leadership, and to those in a cult, it is the outside world who are deceived. Those in this first category are willing to see through the cult to its fiery end. The second is among those who are ... politically traumatized by their hyper-partisan, paralytic, paranoid worldview that Democrats, socialists, communists and Marxists have long conspired to tyrannically infringe upon their rights and freedoms. I knew some who fell into one, or both, categories.”

Logis suggests that Trump's voters should not be dehumanized "and had some valid motivations for supporting Trump, even though he exploited those concerns and fears":

“We must, as a nation, build a broad consensus that electing Trump was one of the most egregious mistakes in our history. Admitting when we're wrong is an unnatural act, but it is possible — and liberating. When I look back at my MAGA time, I remain stunned at the level of political trauma I put upon myself; my hope is that others will begin to recognize their own trauma, which has been, to some extent, self-inflicted.”

The only real hope for awakening or deprogramming MAGA cult members, Logis said, will come from "resounding losses of MAGA candidates next year, up and down the ballot. Though such losses will probably not 'save' most MAGA voters, it will, likely, save some — and 'some' equals millions of Americans."

Former Republican congressman Joe Walsh, now a leading never-Trumper conservative and democracy advocate, described the CBS News polls findings as "the least surprising thing ever." I conclude here with his words of warning:

“Three and a half years ago, while campaigning in Des Moines against Trump, I asked 40 people in line to enter a Trump rally if Donald Trump had ever told a lie. All 40 Trump supporters said no, Donald Trump had never told a lie. I knew then and there that my primary challenge against Trump was hopeless, but I also knew then and there that my soon-to-be-former political party was hopelessly gone too. I knew then and there what I'd sensed for the past six years: The Republican Party is a cult, an authoritarian-embracing, truth-denying cult. So what do we do about it? Well, we all come together in 2024 to defeat this anti-democracy cult. Again. That's job No. 1. But my other job is to continue to try to rescue members of the Trump cult. That's not a job for everyone, but as someone who helped create the cult and then escaped from the cult, it's my job. It's my penance.”

[wingzie]

Behind the Screen

The Beginning

On 20th September 2020 I posted my first ever Live Reactions on GCF in Tokyo. I was very nervous. In a world full of so much hate, would my attempt to go back in time to reminisce together and spread positivity be accepted? I wasn’t so sure. My idea behind the very concept of Live Reactions was because I was sick of so many fights about GCF in Tokyo. I wanted to show the true loving reactions to these moments, without all the drama that ends up going around in a vicious cycle. Thus, I started doing some research.

After I finished advanced searching on various social media platforms, I got ready to make the thread. I found myself quickly enjoying looking through old posts. It was fun and I think that’s a big part of why I am still making these now, nearly three years later. Plus the support. Once the thread was made, I posted it and actually hid my phone. I came back to it about an hour later and was very surprised to see such a huge response to it. At the time, it was one of my most popular posts and instantly there was a desire for more. 

I decided to throw myself into it.  If people wanted more, then I was happy to help with that! Especially when it was making so many people happy. I made a new Google Drive account and a spreadsheet to go with it, so that I could keep track of which Jikook moments I had already done or not. Over time, I would start formatting my posts properly and understand how the advanced search function worked on Twitter. I am a History and English major, so being accurate is very important to me. This gave birth to my second style of posts: Discussion and timeline threads. The Unexpected

Though these threads are well received and made with a lot of love, there was a dark side to this that I have never really spoken about before. The jikooker hierarchy is a strange one and is one that I try to ignore, but with that comes consequences and a certain isolation. A group of jikookers did not like that my account had apparently grown from out of nowhere and started spreading rumours about me, my posts and my identity. This hurt because I had never spoken to these people before. I would love it if we actually conversed, because I enjoy talking to people and I like to think that I am a pleasant person. But they were not interested and instead they continued to try and tarnish my name. I decided to come out to my closest friends and just continued what I was always doing.

I mostly ignored the bullying and it soon stopped once they realised that I was really not interested in the drama. I never have been and never will. After all, that was the main reason I started this journey of making threads. To try and counter the hate and drama, I just never expected it from my own side. It made me more determined than ever and I also made a promise to myself, to make sure others NEVER experienced what I did. A good friend of mine recently revealed that I was one of the only ones that would reply to their curious messages about Jikook. I feel like this is also something important: How we are seen from the outside. We want Jikook to be recognized for their bond and their talent. But how can we do that if all we do is fight or act better than others? I will always be here to talk or help others, it’s just in my nature to do so.

The Present and The Future

In the last few months or so my life has changed dramatically, in real life and also online. I have lost family members, got a new job and I am currently on carers leave. I decided to bring my laptop in the hope that I could work on some posts whilst everything was happening. I have (somehow) managed to find a balance between both and now have a loose schedule that I try to follow. I also try to not pressure myself whenever there is a new Jikook moment to instantly start working on it. I used to get really stressed, but now I am much better. One thing, however, is making this whole process rather difficult. Twitter. Or “X” as it’s now called. I can no longer just work on a post whenever I want to, I have to be time conscious. I currently have four accounts and have to rotate between them. Last night Jungkook went on We-live, with Jimin active in the comments. Jikookory happened. It was around 2am my time, but I’m still struggling to sleep in case I am needed. I decided to work on getting screenshots and it was hard. The search function does not work as well as it used to and my timeline is messed up on my backup accounts. There’s probably a case study that can be done here, but I just really wanted to work on a post without being restricted. I continued though, determined to show what others see. Sometimes we’re only aware of what is is happening in our own circles and not what is going on around us. Those that are in personal spaces with me know my deep frustration with all of this. On my Birthday, my main account got double limited and then my second account got locked. It was not fun. However, I refuse to give up. I have already completed my scheduled posts for August and September and am (very slowly) working on posts ready for November and December. Assuming that “X” is still around then. If not, I’ll post elsewhere or here. And for those asking why I haven’t been posting on here, my account seems to be bugged and won’t let me post links or videos in text posts for some reason. No idea why. Guess I don’t have much luck with social media platforms. With the way things are right now, this is a promise. I will continue to keep doing what I have been doing over all these years. It might be harder but I still have that same goal that I’ve always had: To spread postivity and appreciation for Jikook for all in a safe environment. Love you all.

[redbud-tree]

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong

My name is Nik, and I have never had a home. Now, before you panic or accuse me of making up stories, I have never been without a roof over my head. But a home is more than that. It’s somewhere you feel safe, somewhere you have family by blood or by choice and a community that you trust and that supports you.

In all my 35 years, I’ve never known what that feels like. But I want to, and that’s what the GoFundMe I've linked below is for.

I spent most of my life raised in a fundamentalist Christianity-based micro-cult in Oklahoma, born to an abusive mother and a chronically ill father. I was homeschooled, isolated, abused and denied medical care, and never taught many of the life skills I desperately needed in order to make it on my own.

I’m autistic and receive social security on account of being diagnosed before the age of 22, who has survived my father passing on from his own debilitating illness in 2014. I think my mother’s goal was to keep me at home and keep profiting off of my disability income for the rest of my life. Mine, not hers, because the stress and misery of it all was killing me, and if my mental health didn’t lead to me taking drastic actions, the lack of medical care I was receiving would have led to my death within a few years anyway.

Then, in November of 2021, I managed to escape. Escape is no exaggeration here, as it involved sneaking out of an isolated farm in broad daylight with a very high chance of being intercepted and stopped despite my age and status as an adult with full legal rights. I am not and have never been under a conservatorship or guardianship past the age of 18 - I was kept at home purely through abuse tactics and gaslighting. With the help of friends, I made it to the Pacific Northwest where I was supposed to be able to start over and build my life at last.

…Yeah, that? That didn’t work.

I stayed in Washington for about a year, but my roommate and I had incompatible trauma, so I moved to Portland where a larger group of my friends were and where I should have had a support network to help me as I recovered and started treating my trauma properly with medication and therapy.

…That support network ditched me completely. Everyone has their own troubles, their own struggles, but when you’re in a city and trying to recover from abuse, and you’re alone because the people you were counting on never even talk to you, let alone want to spend time with you because they have better things to be doing, well. You can’t make a home where you aren’t wanted.

And the thing is, there are a lot of things about where I live now that don’t fit who I am. Portland is too much of a big city for me. There aren’t enough animals, and the wrong kind of animals when there are any. The smells and the sounds are all wrong, and I stick out like a sore thumb with all of the cultural differences between the PNW and Oklahoma.

So for my mental health and continued recovery, I’m going to move to live closer to the people I know care about me– in this case, one of my oldest friends, who’s put up with my shenaniganry for close to 15 years now–but I’m trying to do that on a very limited budget.

My only income is, as I said, social security disability, and right now almost ¾ of that is going to my rent alone. That means I can’t save enough to move, and on top of that, I’m trying to move to West Virginia.

I’ve seen pictures of the area and it reminds me of the one spot in Oklahoma I ever felt happy, the Ouchitas, but somehow… More. Some of my ancestors used to live in the Appalachians; not West Virginia specifically, but the mountains, and when I saw a photo of that friend’s hometown I almost burst into tears because it was like looking at a place I hadn’t been to in years and needed desperately to get back to.

I never knew you could be homesick for a place you’ve never seen, but I am, and everything in me is crying out that I need to get there. Something deep inside me, something older than the trees, older than the concrete and steel currently surrounding me where I live right now says that when I do, I will finally have found my way to the home that I’ve been looking for all of my life.

Will you help me get there?

[spidermilfpussy]

Escape (Part 1)

We'd been talking about running away for a while. But it was always too big, too scary. We were always just a little too comfortable. And then one day, you had just had enough. I don't know if it was that one coworker whose white cis/het male privilege made it impossible for him to see you as his better, or the car breaking down again, or that the anti-trans laws had finally come to our state, probably all of it and more. To be honest, I'd been ready for this day for a long while. It always took you a little longer to reach your limit. You were so good at giving everyone but yourself the benefit of the doubt.

When you walked out the door that morning, heading to what would ultimately be your last moments with any other person besides me, I knew it was the end. I'd had the most incredible dream that night. We were wild cats, living the best lives I could have imagined, not easy, but so much less stressful than the realities of our last 20 years together. So when you came through the door early, throwing your keys across the room, uncharacteristically violent for you, and said flatly "It's time", I was not even a little surprised. I had already made my peace and started preparations.

The last couple of years had been so hard. Too much loss, far more than anyone should ever have to suffer. The way both of our families rallied around us after we lost the twins, we thought we’d always have their support. But time revealed the truth, that like so many of that generation, they loved money more than even their own children. Slowly but surely, then kind of all at once, we lost touch with all of them, and honestly considered it for the best. But fucking hell did it hurt. There may be no pain worse than isolation.

Running away from it all had never occurred to us until our friends Sam and Vanessa (the only friends we’d managed to make and hold on to) told us they had a plan. They'd worked out all the details. As a lesbian couple, they couldn't bare the thought of their marriage becoming illegal again, they wanted to be together more than they wanted anything society could offer them. One night, one of our board game hangs, they laid it all out for us. Vanessa had been learning how to improvise shelters and make a fire with whatever could be scrounged from different terrains, and Sam had been meeting up with a local foraging group for months. Together, they'd been pouring over maps of the region, creating and memorizing routes that would keep them the safest.

It had all started with a story Sam had heard on This American Life or something. A man had evaded arrest for 20 plus years by living in the woods and never staying in one place for more than a couple of nights in a row. And they thought they could do it too. So they had started saving up money so they could quite their jobs and maybe not raise too much suspicion. Slowly but surely, they cut contact with almost all of their friends and family. When they revealed their plan to us, Sam had just left her job "to focus on starting a family", and Vanessa told us she would be quitting hers in a couple of months. Then they would wait just long enough that people stopped checking in, and they were gone.

Sam and Vanessa had left almost two years ago to the day. Of course at first we had thought they were insane. We gave them a month at most before they were back, telling us how much harder it was out in the wild than they thought. But as life dragged on, now minus our only real friends, we wanted to go, we needed to go too. And now we were.

to be continued...

[barelytolerabled]

Part 11

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Your struggle to recover from the trauma and your relationship with Reid.

Warnings: none

previous | next

You had always prided yourself on your strength and resilience, but the events of the case had taken a heavy toll on you. The revelation that your ex-fiancé was the killer had shattered your world, and you found yourself sinking deeper and deeper into a dark place.

Reid was there for you every step of the way, offering a listening ear and a comforting presence. But even his unwavering support couldn't ease the pain that you were feeling.

You found yourself struggling to get out of bed in the morning, and even the simplest tasks seemed insurmountable.

As the days passed, your mental health continued to deteriorate. You became increasingly isolated, pushing away the people who cared about you the most. Reid tried to understand, but he couldn't help but feel helpless in the face of your pain.

Despite everything, you knew that you had to keep fighting. You began seeing a therapist again, and slowly but surely, you started to make progress. It wasn't easy, and there were setbacks along the way, but you refused to give up.

In the midst of your recovery, your relationship with Reid grew even more complicated. The lines between co-worker and something more had become blurred, and both of you were struggling to navigate your feelings.

One day, you knew that you had to make a difficult decision. You had to leave for a while, to take some time for yourself and focus on your healing. You knew that it was what you needed, but the thought of leaving Reid behind was almost unbearable.

When you broke the news to him, Reid was understandably upset. He tried to convince you to stay, but you knew that it was something you had to do for yourself.

'I'm sorry, Spencer," you said softly. "I just need some time to get my head together. I can't keep leaning on you like this."

Reid looked at you with a mix of sadness and understanding. "I get it," he said quietly. "Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a lump rise in your throat. "I will. And I'II be back. I promise."

You hugged tightly, both of you knowing that things would never be quite the same between you. But despite the uncertainty, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. You knew that taking this step was the right thing to do.

You took a deep breath and walked into the room, feeling a mix of sadness and relief wash over you. "Hey, guys," you said softly, trying to keep your emotions in check.

Hotch looked up and smiled at you. "Hey, we were just talking about you. Are you okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just...taking some time for myself, you know?"

JJ walked over and gave you a hug. "We're going to miss you. You're a great agent and an even better friend."

Prentiss and Rossi echoed JJ's sentiments, both of them hugging you tightly. Even Garcia, who was usually the most effusive of the group, seemed at a loss for words.

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you looked around at your colleagues. These were the people you had spent so many long hours with, chasing down the worst of the worst. They were your family, in a way, and you were going to miss them more than you could say.

Hotch walked over to you, his expression serious. "Kid, I want you to know that you're always welcome back here. If and when you're ready to come back, the BAU will be waiting for you."

You smiled through your tears, touched by Hotch's words. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me."

You all stood there for a few more moments, unsure of what to say. Finally, you spoke up. "I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. For being my family, for having my back, for never giving up on me."

There were nods and murmurs of agreement from everyone in the room.

Hotch spoke up again. "You're one of the best agents I've ever had the privilege of working with. You've saved countless lives and made a real difference in this world. We're all going to miss you, but we know that you're going to do great things wherever you go."

You smiled weakly, feeling a lump rise in your throat. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you."

You all hugged one last time, and you felt a sense of bittersweet finality wash over you. This was it. You were leaving the BAU behind.

As you walked towards the elevator, you spotted Reid standing by his own desk, staring down at a book in his hands. He looked up and caught your eye, and for a moment you simply stood there, silently acknowledging each other's presence.

Finally, Reid broke the silence. "Are you leaving?" he asked, his voice tinged with sadness.

You nodded. "Yeah, I think it's time for me to go. I need to figure some things out, you know?"

Reid looked at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You shrugged. "I will be. It's just...hard."

Reid walked over to you, the book still in his hands. "I know it is. But you're strong. You'll get through this."

You smiled weakly, appreciating the sentiment. "Thanks, Reid. That means a lot coming from you."

You stood there in silence for a few more moments, neither of you quite sure what to say. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke up. "Reid, there's something I need to say to you. Something I've been thinking about for a long time."

Reid looked at you with interest. "What is it?"

You hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I just wanted to tell you...I'm sorry. For everything. For pushing you away, for hurting you. I never meant to do any of that. I just didn't know how to deal with my own emotions."

Reid nodded, understandingly. "It's okay. I forgive you."

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him. "Thank you. And...there's something else. Something I've been wanting to do for a long time."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

You took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. Reid quickly responded, deepening the kiss as he wrapped his arms around you.

As you pulled away, You smiled at him through your tears. "I just had to do that. For closure. I love you Spencer Reid"

Reid smiled back at you. "I understand. And...I'm glad you did. And…I love you too agent", he said your name softly.

You stood there for a few more moments, wrapped in each other's arms, before finally pulling away. You took one last look at Reid before turning and walking towards the elevator, ready to start your new life.

As you walked towards the elevator, again, you heard Prentiss call out to you. "Girl! Wait up!"

You turned around to see Prentiss jogging towards you. "Hey, what's up?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Prentiss handed you a small box. "I wanted to give you this. It's something I picked up on a case a few months ago. I thought it might come in handy."

You opened the box and smiled at what you saw inside. It was a small, intricately carved wooden box, just big enough to hold a few pieces of jewelry or other small treasures.

"It's beautiful, thank you," you said, feeling touched by the gesture.

Prentiss smiled back at you. "You're welcome. And gorgeous, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you know you can call me, right?"

You nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes again. "I know. Thank you, Emily."

As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Reid and all that he had done for you. You knew that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

You saw Derek standing by your car, putting the last of your boxes in the trunk.

"Thanks for helping me with this, Derek," you said, walking up to him.

"No problem," he replied, closing the trunk. "You sure you got everything?"

You nodded, looking around to make sure you didn't forget anything. "Yeah, I think so. I'm really gonna miss this place."

Derek put his arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. "I know. But you're doing what's best for you, and I respect that."

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. "Thank you, Derek. You've always been such a good friend to me."

Derek smiled down at you. "That's what family is for, pretty lady. And don't worry, we'll keep in touch. You better believe we're gonna be checking in on you."

You chuckled, feeling a small sense of relief. "I'd expect nothing less from you guys."

Derek opened the car door for you, gesturing for you to get in. "Alright, let's get you out of here. You got a new chapter to start."

“Take care of Reid for me Derek, please”

“Of course princess”, he promised.

You kissed his cheek and got in the car, feeling a mix of emotions. You were sad to be leaving, but also excited for what the future held. You rolled down the window, waving goodbye to Derek as you pulled out of the parking lot.

The road ahead was uncertain, but you were determined to keep moving forward. You knew that it wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that you were strong enough to face whatever came your way.

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

is there any reason to recover when you have a shitty family and no friends? there is nobody to celebrate when i eat a fear food. instead there is just "dont eat too much you don't want to get fat"

there is just denying me food and taking mine (classmates)

classmates share food with everyone else, but when i ask they say no, for everyone they can eat but not me, i dont deserve it

what is the point anymore

My heart goes out to you, because it is so hard to heal when the environment you're in is making you sick.

You're asking if there's a point to recovering in the context of everyone around you. Of course there's a point to recovering - for you, not for them, so that you can feel happy and good in your own mind regardless of what they're like! But it's easy to feel like it's pointless when your environment has conditioned you to feel this way.

I suggest you take time to focus on you, as much as you're able to anyway - focus on your recovery in the context of yourself. Don't share your eating habits or successes with your family members. Remain as minimally engaged as possible in conversations around your body, eating habits, and weight. Then, extract yourself from the situation as gracefully as you can manage and tell yourself whatever you need to hear. That their shitty commentary is not your fault. That you can build better for yourself than they have built for you. That one day, with hard work, you will cultivate a much healthier environment for yourself.

When you eat a fear food, celebrate it by yourself. Learn to love yourself and be your cheerleader and best friend. (Feel free to message this blog and tell me - I might not be around to congratulate you immediately, but when I do get to my inbox, I promise I will care!) See if you can find any online support groups for ED recovery, so that you will be less alone and may have access to more advice and community. Support groups/forums about toxic family and friends might be helpful too as you might be able to learn some strategies for how to build a healthy environment for yourself once you're able to build some boundaries between yourself and toxic influences. It takes a lot of time to learn how to do it. Stay patient with yourself, and if you don't find the right groups right away, keep looking.

I'm so sorry to hear you're going through this isolation at school with no supports at home. My best suggestion is, when you're still in this school, keep food items from home stashed in your backpack, and keep your backpack on your person at all times. Or keep it stashed in your locker, but only nonperishables. You don't want it to rot and develop an odor. Instead of seeking friends in a toxic environment, just survive until you graduate. Engage in practices like art and writing in order to connect with yourself, vent, hype yourself up, and just learn to express your experiences. It will not cure the loneliness, and I know loneliness can be crushing. It can help you feel like you don't have to seek love from a loveless environment. I heard a quote to put it in perspective - going to a person for a love they're not capable of giving is like going to the hardware store for oranges. No matter how desperately you ask for oranges, the hardware store will not give you any. It's not your fault - you didn't stock the hardware store - but continuing to seek oranges here will yield you only disappointment.

Hang in there, learn who you are independently of the toxic people around you, be as kind to yourself as possible, and research what you will have to do in order to build the future you want. It may be a future in which you have some distance and limited contact with your family members, or don't go back to your old hometown. I truly wish you the best of luck.

[jyndor]

I know some have a hard time with the word hate (lmao including my phone which autocorrected it??? bro let me live my life) but I truly, unequivocally hate some things. this is personal and it is also political but it's mainly just me trying to put my feelings of non-community, isolation and disconnect into words. probably not well but I put it under a read more so frankly if you're not comfortable with me saying things in inarticulate ways about my own history, idk what to tell you lol

tw for imperialism, genocide, depression, and the existential agonies idk lmao

like britain. not the land, not the individual people lol but the power and empire and the idea, in the same way I hate the united states. idk if there is a more accurate word for the feeling I have that is based in deep, deep hurt. like bone deep. hurt for damage they've done to so many peoples, but also like... over the past year I've begun to identify this emptiness inside of me - I was always looking for community and connection and identity as a kid so far removed from my extended family. I've always joked about how much I resent my parents for moving away from new york because they took me to a place devoid of culture but like I mean my parents got to enjoy the richness of so many cultures growing up, and they also had community (I am not including my mom's mom because she is a person I do in fact hate).

like... so when friends of mine growing up would have their confirmations, for instance, I'd feel sort of left out because I had nothing. my parents ran from catholicism rightfully so imo lmao, and my mom was so good about trying to find me a church to go to when I asked even though I didn't believe in God, certainly not in the Christian belief in God. we ended up in a unitarian universalist church thankfully but I mean I didn't really value it because ~angsty teen shit.

when I say I hate my grandma I mean I am so deeply hurt by her actions towards my mom and also me, and it feels like the same feeling that I get when I think of Imperial powers and how they've harmed both my own family and also so many other people who've had way worse outcomes than just isolation and loneliness and lack of community or identity, or the feeling I have towards capitalism which ofc is intrinsically linked with colonialism and imperialism.

this is something I am coming to understand about myself in my thirties. that i have always been a very, very lonely person. I think that's why the found family trope always works so well for me. because I'm beginning to find mine, and they aren't the people who I desperately wanted to find commonality with as a child.

it's funny because I've always viewed my politics as fairly separate from my internal life - like I couldn't see any connection between why I was always fighting with bullies and bigots in school, why I always immediately understood power dynamics and supported marginalized groups even if they had nothing to do with me and even if I didn't like know the details - ofc my first time hearing about palestine I was like... ?? how are they wrong for wanting liberation? even if I didn't know the history like I do now or like I will in the future when I've learned even more of it.

I remember this english kid (my first love lmao barf) doing a presentation on the troubles in 10th grade and asking like... lmao idk anything about this but how can you say that the british were the good guys here???? then I learned later the personal connections I have to irish history and it was like... I never even knew. I had no stories, no family history, no connection to a culture that my family came from. so there's this guy telling me, a descendant of the people he's blaming for the troubles, history that I should have known.

it's funny how every time I tell one of my friends irl that I do not respect my elders, I have to explain why - they eschewed their own story in order to have the security and safety of whiteness in the US. they continue to protect that whiteness with their money and votes, and have shown an absolute lack of respect to their descendants when we've asked them to hear us out.

I don't hate them though. I know there's a difference in the way I feel towards them and the way I feel towards the things, the british empire, the united states, that made them react the way they did. idk if that makes sense.

at least they aren't cops lmao I would legitimately hate them if they were.

[jihyoruri]

WELL… my opinions on aespayn… keep in mind these r my interpretations and u can correct/add on to anything.. this is just what I’ve gathered based on my experiences/interpretations.

i don’t think aespayn and karina can work. i feel like no matter what they won’t really ever get better— karina knows how to manipulate aespayn and aespayn doesn’t know who else to go to after she’s been a “safe place” for so long. aespayn has other friends to go to but like.. she doesn’t know how exactly to break away from karina. like, if she wasn’t so attached, she could just kick her out of the group.. she could stop this at any point, but she just can’t. when you’re in relationships like this, there really is no “fixing” them, there will always be that power dynamic at play and the other person will ALWAYS know how to get to you and control you. and you stay because they’re nice sometimes and you hang onto that, hoping that they’ll be nice most of the time, or you feel trapped and like you don’t have anyone else to go to or don’t deserve better. I don’t really know what opinion aespayn has of herself.. I can guess it’s not horrible, but probably not great either. she probably hates herself for staying, and wants to get away, but can’t bring herself to do it. me personally, I’ve never been in a situation like this— but I can talk about how I think money can effect this:

now, I’m not sure if any of this is true, this is just how I interpret it being someone who grew up around rich and influential people.. being surrounded by rich people ruins your ability to socialize and understand people, even worse if you’re neurodivergent or anything other than what’s considered “normal” in those circles. and aespayn is RICH rich, one of the most influential families in Korea— she was probably expected to keep up a certain image, act a certain way, couldn’t socialize with certain people, was taught certain things, I can imagine she was isolated given the fact most rich people like to only stay in their small “elite” circles. her parents didn’t want her to be an idol, but at the end of the day I think you mentioned in another ask her parents support her(?) so I can only assume they aren’t super close minded and truly love their daughter, which helps. but I think aespayn definitely might have a hard time talking to others, it’s been mentioned she’s “awkward” and I think that could be why. I don’t think she really had anyone as her safe space BEFORE karina— you can’t be friends with the rich people, they are mostly fake and really only pretend to like you for status and talk behind your back— you don’t know how to talk to the other trainees, you never learned how to act around normal people, you never had to make friends— you just grew up surrounded by prepicked options from your parents connections. this is why I think she’s so incredibly attached to karina. she may have other friends NOW, but before then she only had karina. you tend to like things that are familiar when in unfamiliar situations. NOW.. moving onto Bada— I don’t think it’s been said how/when they met, but I’ll guess through choreography or smth. now there isn’t a lot of works with them, so it’s hard for me to get a gauge on their dynamic, but it’s been said they’re close, so we can go off that. i think bada truly cares about aespayn, but I don’t know if she’s aware of her (HORRIBLE) situationship with karina.. I can see her confiding in her about it, but I could also see her hiding it.. so I’m not sure. I think to give my full opinion, I’d need to see how they progress and grow, because right now, they really just seem like good friends, which is great for her to have because… support systems when in these situations are important.

to continue this weird character analysis (that i don’t even know I got anything correct on..) I’ll say who I think aespayn should end up with.. NO ONE. for the sake of the story I know she needs to have an endgame partner, and I don’t think aespayn and Karina could ever stop being toxic, so she’s ruled out, and I haven’t seen enough of bada but ultimately I think that’s the road we’re gonna go down— I think that’s who she’ll end up with. but I think that aespayn really needs to sit down and not have anyone to connect herself to, to hold her identity. who is she without karina?? without anyone?? when she’s not a member of Aespa, not the daughter of a rich and influential family, just herself. who is aespayn?? I don’t think she knows that, and if she does it’s probably loosely. rich people don’t need to know themselves deeply, they don’t need to have crazy thoughts about the meaning of life— they just need to be charming, and polite, and good at what they do (business wise). that’s all!! they don’t have the need/hunger to know themselves or others, it’s usually just ‘how do I keep/make wealth, what do they think of me’, etc etc. they’re very focused on appearances but not on the self, which I think is detrimental to their image— especially aespayn. I think that’s why she clings onto karina— she doesn’t know how to be anything else BUT aespayn, member of aespa, daughter to a rich family, karina’s. she doesn’t know who she is without these labels. I feel like I say this for so many yns but it’s rlly only 2.. anyway.. I suspect she’ll end up with bada because I don’t see karina changing, and I don’t think she expects change either. I think she feels that no matter what she does, aespayn will always stay.

closing my thoughts on aespayn.. I do want to explore karina. karina has been shown to be extremely manipulative, consistently love bombing aespayn whenever she wants her affection, and “punishing” her by ignoring her when she does something to make her mad. karina knows(?) aespayn will “fight back” by small actions to upset her, but I don’t think she thinks she’ll ever actually leave. I think when/if this does happen, she will be surprised and angry.. I can’t tell if she views aespayn as property/“hers”? she definitely has a fucked up view of relationships, or she’s just toxic and enjoys it. She gets jealous when aespayn talks to people she’s “not supposed” to talk to, but I think karina’s DEFINITELY the type to like.. go on dates with others and TELL aespayn about it (this is all speculation).. now I think it’s been said that karina used to not be so toxic, or at least didn’t show it.. I’m curious as to what changed. did being a leader get too taxing she just wants to take out all the shit she deals with onto aespayn, someone she knows won’t leave? or does she just like controlling people? I’m not sure. I think karina is just as attached to aespayn as aespayn is to her, if not a little less? i mean.. they were friends first and foremost. that doesn’t go away. they have a very interesting relationship though, and I am a fan of toxic yuri, but in the end I don’t think she’ll change and I don’t think aespayn should suffer, so..

i will reiterate that I don’t KNOW any of this for sure, this is just how I see their relationship! maybe I’m wrong abt some things but right on others.. you’ve said aespayn stands on business and comes from a powerful family but every rich person’s kid I’ve met is truly very weak at heart/really emotionally easy to manipulate, and desperate for validation so… idk. I will say that I am not a member of an “influential” family of actors or singers or business owners.. I am apart of a medical family, who know renowned doctors and such.. but those aren’t really the people you see on tv or magazines. I’ve met the #2 eye doctor in the world, but like.. you probably haven’t heard of him!! just people who r rich but very quiet and hush hush about it.. not like celebrities. (fun fact, my dad operated on pitbull! he was his anesthesiologist. i am one person away from pitbull..) but this are just what I’ve picked up from the children of rich doctors/some business owners, NOT celebrities or actors so I don’t know how they act, but it’s safe to assume all ultra rich ppl r pretty much the same.. I’ve been around people who know celebrities and whatever.. it’s easy to blend in w people who have money, but I am NOT an expert. (I live w my mom, we’re middle class. I’m only rich 2 months out of the year 💀. i prefer it this way)

SO YEAH.. very wonky character analysis on aespayn. this could all be so wrong.. I don’t think anyone sits down to write abt yns and starts thinking about the inner workings of how rich people society fucks up your entire social ability and mental state 😭sorry for not being able to stfu..

TLDR; I don’t think she should end up with either of them until she figures herself out, but once she gets out of that life ending situationship she should/probably will end up with bada. (though I wish karina would stop being toxic and they could end up tgt.. I know it’s not meant to be)

-🎏

aespa!yn is someone who is very sure of herself, yes she was isolated (which is also a big part on why she’s pretty awkward sometimes) but that isolation really made her learn about herself. aespa!yn is the youngest in her family and has a lot of siblings and she’s known as the rebellious one, you mentioned keeping a certain image and yes that was a lot of pressure for aespa!yn but instead of trying to keep that image it actually causes her to spiral out a little, out of all her siblings she’s the most aware of herself and aware of how messed up the industry that her family is in is. If there’s one thing about aespa!yn is that she knows herself she knows herself very well that’s why in first aespa!yn work it says that she knows that she will come back to Karina.

the only time I’ve ever said aespa!yn stood on business was me implying that she stands on business when it comes to arguments with jimin but it will always be the same outcome in the end. she’s threatened so many times to kick jimin out the group because she has that power but jimin always responds about how that will affect the group and group’s downfall will be yn’s fault which causes her to reel back, yn wants to leave jimin she wants the girl out of her life but if there’s one thing youre really correct on its how attached she is to karina.

From what I’ve read it seems like to you aespa!yn doesn’t really know herself SHE DOES LOL she very much does but it’s because of her interactions with karina which makes it seem like she doesn’t, you say that the rich kids you know are actually “very weak at heart/really emotionally easy to manipulate, and desperate for validation” aespa!yn is only like that with karina because karina is someone who knows her the best, she’s someone who yn is really attached to, someone who knows aespa!yn from the inside out which causes aespa!yn to be pretty vulnerable and easy around her.

and this something that’s very apparent in the works that I have put out right now, likes take my bada and aespa!yn works for example, I feel like I made aespa!yn more playful more funny she really shows her personality in that work, when you compare it to the works with Karina aespa!yn is visibly more nervy and vulnerable in those and it’s because she’s only that way around Karina.

Honestly I can’t say much with ur opinion with bada and aespa!yn cause that will probably spoil things 😭 but ur also very correct on how Karina views things as well.

aespa!yn isn’t just your typical rich kid with problems, you can’t really look at her with that point of view, she’s extremely different 😭. richgirl!yn is definitely someone who you can analyze with that point of view like with all the stuff you were saying I was like this is more richgirl!yn than aespa!yn.

[mrschwartz]

pls continue on slippery territory because ✨your mind✨ as you say, we don't Know him but. i'd put my money on he's self aware but can only look at it from his periphery, otherwise it is Too much. and there are bits of it in his writing, goes along with his rep for ~vagueness, which is why i'm surprised by the new record because (1/2)

(2/2) the lyrics are vague but there's something about the sound - that feeling of there being something there, a depth. a might be projecting but lmao will never forget how melancholic mirrorball made me feel. that's why i think he Knows, it's just he can only acknowledge it in this sort of way and the other guys don't have that issue

OH! also can't stop thinking about him saying he wouldn't do this on his own, lmao. goes hand in hand with the whole drawn to solitude but needing other people thing, but obviously everyone else has got Lives, alexander!!!

oh man, i'm right with you on that, the whole album is deeply sad. like, i'm doing what he told me to do! i'm listening to the music and not just the lyrics, and they're telling me that the person who composed it has been going through some shit lol. he also emphasizes that there's a sense of humor to a lot of it, which i understand i guess, but. um. idk. it's either 1) he's not very good at translating jokey tones into melodies and harmonies (which i refuse, he's too good at capturing and conveying emotion and cares too much about music to not understand tone) or 2) he's got a very warped sense of humor/is not as self-aware as i thought (like i said) lol. like one of those friends everyone has that light-heartedly shares something that sounds deeply traumatic and has you like. "but are you like. okay though" or 3) he knows it's mostly sad but is playing it off bc fuck interviews, fuck people actually knowing what he wants to mean, etc etc.

anyway. fuck him, he set out to make me feel things with the sound of his music and the bastard fucking accomplished it lol.

but to your second point. like, it feels shitty to think this of him and that's why i didn't wanna say "resentment" bc it's obviously not it, there's too much unconditional love and understanding between them, but i can't help but feel that if it was up to him, to some extent, none of them would be off raising families, they'd just hang out together all the time and just talk and have fun and play music

he's introverted and craves isolation, yes, but he's also needy and fucking needs the band's support so much, he kinda gets a little lost when he doesn't have it for a long period of time. he could write a solo album and play all of the instruments but it's not just that he values their input and it's more fun when they're around. he needs them to not have all of the spotlight on him. and when most of the spotlight is on him, which let's be honest here we're all adults lol, it's 99% of the time, he has this safe haven with them to feel like he's sharing the experience, to joke about the whole thing, to have someone to vent to, etc. this next bit is extremely shitty, i know i knowwwwwwwww, but: like, alex turner's support group you know. like (let me try to redeem myself here), they're all each other's support group, for sure, but i feel like he needs it the most

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork, on his own, with his mother (in Washington, D.C.) in 1943, and with his brother Nick and their father during their time in Berlin in 1947.

“My childhood was pleasant. My parents are tickled now about my success, but my younger sister thinks more of me as a Monkee than she does of me as a brother. I remember a couple of times when my father vented his emotions on me because of circumstances. He didn’t mean it the way it sounded to me then. If I had never realized this, it could have left me with a traumatic wound for the rest of my life. Like the time when I was minding my little sister and she went off without my knowing it because I was reading comic books. When he discovered she was missing he yelled at me but later I realized that he did it because he was so worried about her absence. Or the time he shouted, ‘Be calm!’ at me and brought his fist down on the table with such force that I trembled all over. I am told that once — I was too young to remember — I was climbing up on the phonograph and he shouted at me just before the lid of the phonograph struck my head. For many years I couldn’t go under anything that had a lid on it without lifting my arm and holding it there to make sure the lid wouldn’t fall down.” - Peter Tork, Seventeen, August 1967

“[M]y parents were together all my life and I had to put myself through an incredible school of hard knocks before I came to any sense of self-worth. I'm still coming to grips with the feeling that there is support for me in the outside world. I'm still relating on a day-by-day basis with my own loneliness and isolation. I've had some bleak moments, of course, and I'll continue to have them, but I trust that if I stay in contact with my source, that my bleakest moments will be a prelude and a vehicle to other times.” - Peter Tork, When The Music Mattered (1984)

“Tork said he argued continually with his cold, unemotional father, came from a dysfunctional family, and drank to drown his loneliness, sorrow, and feelings of being left out and different.” - San Jose Mercury, 1996

“Every time I thought I did something good, my father said, ‘Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back.’ [...] Twice I‘ve seen colors. Once I was so totally in love that everything was pink; I mean, rosy, like that dusty pink that is the rose color. I swear to God, rose-colored glasses, man. It was, I swear to God, it was as if a pair of rose-colored glasses had been implanted in my eyes. Everything had this hue, and it was just, you feel, ‘Okay!’ And then once, I came downstairs, and my parents had had a lot to drink the night before, and the air was black. And incidentally, on our [Shoe Suede Blues] last CD, Saved By The Blues, is the song ‘Saved By The Blues,’ which contains all this stuff. A friend of mine, I’d been, I’d just talked to a friend of mine the way I’m talking to you, and he went home and wrote a song, and called it ‘Saved By The Blues.’” - Peter Tork, Music Groups interview, 2007

“There never was a time I couldn’t drink. My parents let me drink wine if I wanted with dinner, or a sip of cocktails or a bit of beer, nobody ever cared, and I never got too deeply into it when I was young. But it’s pretty clear that everybody’s... that alcoholics have a curve to their disease, to their syndrome, that is basically not affected by life or by anything else, just it’s genetic, it’s in their bones. And I guess my curve hadn’t taken over me, it didn’t... I didn’t even notice I was in trouble until my late thirties. One or two friends of mine knew I was in trouble before that, but not many. [It appears there’s a genetic history] My father died at 86, you know. It’s hard to say that he died of alcoholism, because alcoholics at best die in their sixties, or early sixties, you know, most alcoholics who can survive, who don’t die of anything else, who just die of the organic damage alcohol does to them, die in their sixties. So it’s hard to say, you know. But I think the best teller of the disease; well, there’s two good tells, I think. One of them is: do you drink when it’s against your better interest to do so, and when the information is there that lets you know that it is. And the other is: personality changes, you know. And I used to see my father with personality changes. My mom drank like a fish, but she may not have been an alcoholic, it’s hard to know. But almost certainly my father was. And that’s the only genetic information I have.” - Peter Tork, Take 12 Recovery Radio, (late?) 2000s or early 2010s

“I firmly believe that a low self-esteem did not make me into an alcoholic. It’s far likelier that I was born a pre-packaged dry alcoholic, and was just waiting to develop into a full-blown sopping wet alcoholic; low self-esteem was probably a function of my alcoholism, rather than the other way around. Similarly, it wasn’t reversing my low self-esteem that enabled me to get into recovery. I began my recovery after seeing with the starkest clarity that I was well and properly crushed by the alcoholism. It was in recovery that I began to gain any self-esteem I have now. In other words, I didn’t think my way into well-being, I began to learn how to behave well and then began good thinking (better thinking, anyway,  heheheh).” - Peter Tork, Ask Peter Tork, 2008

[kalena-henden]

I enjoyed the brisk fun of XO Kitty. The theme of this season was Secrets & Lies. While Kitty started out as a truth teller, she quickly was sucked into the web of things that must be hidden. It definitely gave the characters road blocks to overcome and laid the foundation for the series, but I do not want this to be a continuing theme going forward. Kitty’s strength has always been assessing the situation and speaking the truth. There should be room for questioning and doubts to produce personal growth. However, you don’t need to lie in the meantime. I hope all the characters have learned that lesson so we can move on to other things. 

Overall, I really loved the new cast. They were interesting and fun bringing their own flavor to the mix. On rewatch, it hit me that we got to see not just hear about the family dynamics of all three of Kitty’s love interests giving us insight about who they are. Dae has a loving family but is insecure about his place in society. Yuri is the opposite in that she knows who she is in the world but feels isolated from her family. Minho’s parents are off doing their own thing. This has made him a bold in a good sense by not being afraid to speak the truth but also in a bad sense that he can be a jerk. 

Ultimately, it’s Minho’s truth telling that has me firmly on his team. Looking back he’s the only one of the main characters who doesn’t lie. Except when he said he doesn’t speak “Englishie”. lol He’s not ashamed about things that other people would try to hide. After seeing what his parents have been through, he’d rather be open and honest even if it may be brutal. In the beginning, he has a distain for long-term relationships as he’s seen firsthand how they often don’t work out.  This seems to be the main reason he didn’t like Dae’s relationship with Kitty because he wanted to protect Dae from the eventual painful breakup. He is a really loyal friend, intervening in ways they don’t always want or appreciate but it is with the best intentions. Though he’s annoyed with Kitty’s presence at first, he makes peace that she’s infiltrated his friend group fairly quickly and respects that Dae still has feelings for her. When he finds the sleeping webcam video of Kitty, he let’s Dae know so he can tell her. Even though Minho’s reluctant to let her stay with them, he doesn’t take long to befriend her after she’s moved in. And once those walls were down, it took like 2 seconds for him to realize he has feelings for her. It’s interesting that, despite witnessing the whole Dae-Kitty-Yuri mess first hand (and he doesn’t even know the half of it), getting to know Kitty better makes him realize it might be worth the mess to be in a “real” relationship. Minho then protects her like he does with all his friends, only a little more ardently. I love how he got on the plane with no expectations other than to spend time with her. He assumes that she worked things out with Dae but he still asks because he cares about her and wants to know what’s going on with her. But when Kitty confirms everything is truly over with Dae, Minho is surprised but doesn’t hesitate to express his feelings the first chance he gets. In many ways, they are opposites, but in the important ways they are similar by boldly expressing truth, fiercely loving people they care about and taking big chances to go after what they want in life. They deserve to be endgame. 

But Kitty is not ready to date Minho. He wasn’t even on her radar since she was trying to deal with her feelings for Dae and Yuri. She’s now given Dae the send off. Next she needs to work out whatever will happen with Yuri. I really really hate cheating storylines so I hope they don’t go there but there is plenty to explore if certain people break up. So in the meantime, I want Kitty to turn him down and for them to continue to support each other as friends. And I don’t want Minho to wait around for Kitty. I want him to date someone else for awhile and learn to be a good boyfriend. Then in the future, when they are both available, I want them to have feelings for each other at the same time and realize they were meant for each other. 

I didn’t mean for this to be so long but I have thoughts. lol This just wouldn’t leave me so I had to write it down. I have to say I really miss Kitty’s glasses. They were such a part of her aesthetic. I understand she’s grown up now and wants to wear contacts. But all the early morning rolling out of bed moments or late night moments, she should have been wearing her glasses cause you don’t sleep in your contacts. Or it’s really bad if you do. Anyway, I hope this show gets more seasons.

[hjellacott]

Happy birthday Jo! (And Harry!)

Today my role-model turns 58, and The Boy Who Lived, 43.

You don't always get lucky that the people you love for subjective reasons become even better for objective reasons, but we did. I admire other authors, characters, actors, but sometimes they do things I frown upon, things I can't defend, and yet, it isn't the case with Jo. With her, I can breathe in peace knowing what she does will always be for the benefit of those who need a hero the most.

Harry was a hero for any of us who have known terrible loss, and taught us to make the best out of shit situations, to look at the bright side of things — consider your friends, choose your own family, fight for things you believe in — and to be brave and persistent, to stay true to yourself, to be selfless and kind, to be heroes of our own stories. To me, he's one of the most humane and extraordinary characters I've known, with tremendous depth, someone that is heroic not because he wants to be, not out of a deep desire of protagonism or power, or because he likes the limelight, but because he makes the best our of every difficult choice, and he tries to do the right thing. He's so deeply flawed, but always within logic (i.e. when he isolates himself from his friends because for 11 years he never had any and it's still hard to know what to do with them), and then he raises above his challenges, even the self-imposed ones.

In the Harry Potter books I found solace through a sometimes miserable childhood, again through more and more loss, and again in times of Covid. I found advice, I found the friendly words I needed, I found courage and inspiration, I found good old friends — and realised Hogwarts would, indeed, always be there when I needed it, even twenty plus years on.

Harry's story almost seems to mirror Joanne Rowling's. She knew incredible adversity and overcame it, and like Harry, she found true love, she made a family of her own, she found a place she could call home and true friends to stand beside her. And after all the success she's known, she's always giving back to us. This is a summary of some of her charitable work:

About 16% of her wealth in 2011 went to organisations fighting worldwide poverty, something that she's continued doing year after year.

Various work with Amnesty International.

The Ickabog royalties went to supporting charities that supported vulnerable groups affected by the Covid-19 pandemic.

J.K. Rowling is Founder and President of Lumos, an international children’s charity fighting for every child’s right to a family by transforming care systems around the world. Lumos sheds light on the root causes of family separation and demonstrates that children can safely be united with loving families that help them thrive.

The Anne Rowling Clinic was founded by a donation from J.K. Rowling in 2010 in memory of her mother Anne.  The Clinic delivers clinical care and research to improve the lives of people with degenerative conditions affecting the brain, as well as hosting specialist NHS clinics for these conditions.  Jo continues to fund MS research exclusively through the Anne Rowling Clinic.

J.K. Rowling's charitable trust, Volant, which she set up in 2000 to administer grants to charities, to alleviate social deprivation particularly affecting women and children.

She's also created Beira's Place, a service for victims of sexual violence, focused on women (including trans men with female sexual organs).

Additionally, substantial donations to charity in the form of book royalties.  Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch Through the Ages are sold in aid of Comic Relief and Lumos, and The Tales of Beedle the Bard is sold in aid of Lumos. Royalties from The Ickabog go to Volant, to help support vulnerable groups who’ve been particularly impacted by the Covid-19 pandemic, in the UK and internationally.

And then J.K. Rowling is a decorated social warrior, standing up for children, for homeless, for people who've suffered major disaster in life, and for women, doing anything and everything for us even when she meets opposition. She never gives up.

Thank you, Jo. You're my hero. Thank you for your hard work, and for the stories that will keep your memory and your activism alive, long after you're gone. Thank you for making my days so much brighter. Wishing you and Harry a wholesome day of much-deserved joy and laughter. HAPPY BIRTHDAE!!!

[katenicolesstuff]

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Hanya Yanagihara is an American author and editor best known for her novels "The People in the Trees" and "A Little Life." After the publication of her second novel, "A Little Life," she was nominated for several awards. She was one of the National Book Award finalists in 2015, and the novel was also shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize that year.

SUMMARY

The novel portrays the lives of four friends who met in college and moved to New York. Malcolm Irvine, an architect working at a renowned firm; Jean-Baptiste "JB" Marion, a versatile painter hoping to make a name for himself in the art world; Willem Ragnarsson, a handsome man and aspiring actor; and Jude St. Francis, a lawyer and mathematician with a mysterious past whose provenance and ethnic origins are largely unknown, even by his trio of friends. The book follows their relationships as they change as a result of success, wealth, addiction, and pride. Their friendship deepens as they realize their greatest challenge is attempting to help Jude. Jude is a central member of the friendship group, and the story revolves around him. We follow them as they cope with life and all of its struggles over several decades. Despite his denials, Jude injures himself severely in what appears to be a suicide attempt, providing the first glimpse into his tormented life.

Harold (Jude's adoptive father) eventually discovers what has happened and realizes Jude has been hurting himself. It becomes clear that Jude was sexually traumatized in his early years, which made it difficult for him to start engaging in romantic relationships. Harold and Andy (Jude's longtime doctor and friend) keep Jude's secret about what happened. As he approaches his forties, his friends and loved ones start to think about his isolation, with Willem especially mystified by Jude's sexuality. As his loneliness continues to worsen, he enters into an abusive relationship with fashion executive Caleb, and the trauma of what he goes through with Caleb causes Jude to attempt taking his own life.

Willem, who has been preoccupied with his career and numerous travels, realizes that his beloved friend needs more support after Jude overcomes his attempted suicide. Willem moves in with Jude and eventually confesses his feelings for him. Jude shares some of these feelings, but handling the relationship is difficult for him. He despises having sex and resents Willem questioning him about his past. Willem eventually learns about Jude's self-harming, which causes many difficulties between the two of them as Jude escalates his destructive behavior. Jude eventually tells Willem the backstory of his abuse and trauma. He also admitted that he hates sex. Following this, Jude and Willem remain as loving partners but no longer have a sexual relationship.

Jude and Willem have spent years together in happiness, but as Jude gets older, his injuries cause him increasing pain. He later has both of his legs amputated. In spite of his condition, he has many happy memories thanks to his friends, family, and career. However, Willem, Malcolm, and Malcolm's wife, Sophie, are all devastatingly killed in a car accident when Jude is in his early fifties. Jude's mental health rapidly starts to deteriorate after the accident. Andy and Harold try to do their best to help and support Jude, but in the novel's final part, Harold reveals that Jude finally took his life two years after Willem's death.

A Little Life Analysis

 

A Little Life is one of the most challenging, depressing, and disturbing books I've ever read, and it's the only one that truly and honestly left me intensely shaken, displaced, and torn apart. It's exhausting and draining, but it's unforgettable.

It took me more than a week after finishing this book to gather my thoughts and organize them so that I could write my impressions. I'm actually reading this book for the second time, and I don’t know how eloquently and articulately I'll present my impressions because I'm still under its influence, which makes me feel like a ravaging wave every time I think of this book.

This is a book where a human being is presented masterfully, poignantly, and in detail, with incredible skill and tangible realism, for whom it is impossible not to sympathize, not to feel something, not to want to jump into the pages and just be there for him, to hug him and tell him that everything will be alright. His traumas are so vividly pictured, descriptive, violent, shocking, crippling, and devastating that I felt them on my own skin; the pain and suffering drenched me, and I was unable to do anything.

I was both amazed and horrified by Yanagihara, and it is impressive in and of itself that she wrote this book in 18 months while working. She evokes an incredible, intricate, and complex picture of a character that you connect with and feel close to; the connection is utterly indisputable, and I have not felt it in a long time. I have become so identified with a fictional character, despite the fact that I have not even remotely gone through anything he has. There is no denying Yanagihara's talent. The writing style was wonderful for me. It was raw and lively, full of vivid comparisons and captivating dialogue, and many times it seemed like a punch in the gut that left me gasping for breath.

I especially liked the convincing psychological immersion experience, the tangled labyrinths of the human mind, and the portrayal of trauma, pain, and grief—how to live with them, how destructive they can be for the individual, but also how the people around that individual cope with them and witness their destructive and disreputable effects.

Moreover, Yanagihara's novel also suggests that neither the power of the state nor the liberties of the industry matter the most to the idea of a successful life for the fortunate and privileged. Rather, the most important issue is how the wealthy maintain their status by taking care of, protecting, and providing benefits for each other. Jude thinks, "Life was scary; it was unknowable." Even money wouldn't totally immunize him, he says.26 It isn't until he leaves the protection of his friends that he understands how rare and valuable his taste of immunity is, and how short-lived it will be. His friends, on the other hand, lament his inability to prosper from what they wanted to give him as they see the miserable happenings in his life. The grief with which the fortunate witness the unfortunate falling through the net is the pathos of A Little Life.

The critics say her writing style is long-winded and a bit pretentious. A lot of the writing felt repetitive and descriptive for the sake of description. Although uncomfortable and challenging to read, especially in a book with such a theme, Yanagihara covers very sensitive and taboo topics like self-harm, mental health, sexual, emotional, physical, and psychological abuse, pedophilia, and homosexuality. I feel that these topics are painfully realistic and effectively portrayed, but they are also a part of reality, and we should not turn away because something seems ugly, uncomfortable, or repulsive. Instead, we should face reality and see things as they are, which, I think, is why the book had to be 820 pages long and why so many awful things had to happen to Jude. Each chapter, each paragraph, each description of a horrible event, dares the reader to put the book down and say, "That's enough." I've had enough. I've had enough of Jude... In other words, the book dares the reader to do the exact thing that Jude fears his friends will do if he tells them the exact things that you're slowly learning about him. To those who say this isn't realistic: congratulations on your comfortable life. This happens all the time. Horrible people can spot someone who will be easily victimized from a mile away. (Compound trauma is the most common type of trauma.) This is also why I believe you must first learn about the good in Jude, as you would about any friend, and then gradually reveal the layers of his past to you. They'd be the same if you were the fifth member of the friend group. That's one of the main reasons this book hit close to home. It made me feel understood in a way I had never felt before.

The plot is carried by the characters, and they are the plot, which was quite special to me. Despite the plot's suffering and tragedy, cruelty, monstrosity, agony, and darkness, there are bright spots: true and sincere and priceless friendship, intimacy, support, love and empathy, understanding and kindness, and a selflessly extended hand. But is that enough? Can you help someone who doesn't want to be helped, someone who is so broken and crippled that they believe they don't deserve kindness?

People who claim Jude suffered "too much" trauma are implying that their love for Jude, and their love for people who have experienced trauma, has boundaries, and there is a "line" to how much they are willing to empathize. This is why I gave this book a 5/5 because it covers so many things about trauma. Many people can't finish this book, are unwilling to finish it, or say it's not a good or realistic novel for the same reasons that people who have experienced trauma don't feel at ease expressing themselves to others. Many people lack the ability to sit with someone, learn about their experiences, accept them without judgment, and stay with them until the end.

I have read some other books that have very depressing subject matter, and I appreciate the discourse here about why these types of readings are valid. In life, people are abused, they have bad luck, and they sometimes never really have happy moments. If we want art to reflect reality, then those moments are important. I believe this book proves that.

[inkabelledesigns]

✨️ What is your favorite thing about your story?

I actually had two people submit this one, you and @rosiegardenlove (love you girl). Thank you both for asking!

✨️ What is your favorite thing about your story?

Gosh, see this is why I've been putting it off for so long, I'm not sure HOW to answer this. There's so much I love about this story, and really it's not just one story, it's a collection of stories that go together. It's a whole world filled with characters that I've put so much love into in trying to bring it to life. I think, my favorite thing is that it's given me so much room to explore and create in ways I hadn't before. Auran and Loraine have both been crucial characters for helping me find more of myself, and they continue to remind me that the path you take in life is an adventure, and it's okay to be uncertain about it, but you'll never know what's waiting for you until you take a leap and try. I never dreamed that anything I could make would speak to people and be something I shared, and even if it's only with a few people at a time via discord, those conversations I've had with my fellow artists and storytellers have been the most important thing to come out of this, bonding over our shared love of The Nutcracker. This story has so many of my favorite things. Strong heroines and heroes, exploration of larger scale conflicts and personal ones, fantasy, magic, transformations, dance and music, the arts, found family, there is so much about this that is very much so made for me. It doesn't need to make anyone but me happy, but I'm glad it brings many people joy.

I've mentioned this before, but I'll say it again for the people that are new here. Auran Dulce and all this nutcracker stuff came into my life at roughly the same time Bendy did, right as my dad got his returning cancer diagnosis. I was a mess at this point in my life. I'd broken up with my boyfriend, who had been the only person I shared any stories/collaborated with for a good three years while getting cyberbullied to no end, and suddenly my only support network was gone because I'd isolated myself for him. My college friend group was falling apart, I was afraid of my dad dying all over again, and I was in my senior year of college, barely getting help from the few times I was allowed by the health center to go in for therapy. I was constantly getting sick with the harsh weather on campus and people not being hygienic around me, 2018 was just an awful time in my life. I was a broken person, and I've been recovering from that for years now.

Auran happened at exactly the right time. He gave me something to believe in, something that I could look at and say "maybe THIS will be my masterpiece," something that was taken away from me when I couldn't touch Vibrance's story anymore (something I'm finally starting to heal from). And it hasn't been perfect. There's been a lot that's happened over the years within my spaces that had me crawling back into the hole of never sharing my stories again, but I made good friends who didn't let me stay that way, who value me even when I'm at my lowest.

Even though my dad is gone now, he wanted me to go out there and do something that makes me happy with my life, and I know wherever that path is, Auran's likely gonna be a part of it. I want to write that book, I want it to be real. He and all of his friends are an important part of my life, even if I don't work on them every day. I would not have gone and done his doll twice if I didn't care so much about getting it right. I wouldn't be sitting here planning dolls for a majority of my cast if I weren't passionate about it. I wouldn't still be honing my crafts with writing, voice acting, and art if I didn't have the passion for telling their story.

That's what I love most about Chronicles of Equinox. It's given me hope when I've had none. And I hope that, in writing this story and sharing it with all of you, maybe I can give you some hope.