#Fandom counter article

[rambling-at-midnight]

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Civilian!Reader. No pronouns so can be read as any gender!

Summary: Meet-ugly with the Red Hood due to a gas station robbery gone wrong.

Word count: ~2k

(I'm branching out to other fandoms, apparently. Let me know if you want a sequel. Enjoy!)

You weren't born in Gotham, so it sometimes still surprises you that you had adjusted so well to its particular brand of crazy.

You're from somewhere a little more south of New Jersey, although most places in the U.S. are a little south of Jersey unless you're a lobster farmer from Maine or a tree hugger from Vermont.

Both of those descriptions sound critical, but they weren't meant to be. Right about now you're seriously considering taking up lobster farming.

No one sane ever moves to Gotham. Everyone knows the stories, and even if most of the country didn't believe all of them, most people aren't stupid enough to disregard them. And you certainly weren't stupid. But rent was dirt cheap for a city, and so was tuition for GU's vet school. So you thought to yourself, "How bad could it really be," bought pepper spray and a taser, and accepted the admissions offer.

You'd always liked iced coffee more than green bean casserole and peach cobbler, anyway.

Reading news articles hadn't been enough to prepare you for the utter insanity of Gotham City, unfortunately. But you adapted. You always did. Upgraded your taser, memorized the bus schedule, learned the less sketchy areas of town, did your best not to get caught outside after dark. Kept your head down, ignored the crime lords and genetic experiments gone wrong and lunatics and vigilantes scurrying along the rooftops, and you'd survived for almost two years without many incidents.

But you'd gone to the library because you were critically unable to work in your apartment, gotten distracted by panicking about how little you really knew about next week's test content, and stared at the pages of your textbook for almost an hour as you fought back tears. So now you were running late and it was dark as you walked home because the buses were down. Of course they were. That lunatic that thought he was a crocodile had smashed a bunch last week and they hadn't been replaced yet.

Goosebumps prickle on the back of your neck, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Keep your head down. Criminals target the people that look most obviously paranoid first.

You're just burnt out. Severely. But the end of your sophomore year of veterinary school was looming, which meant you would have a relaxing three-month vacation before the next one started.

And no, you weren't thinking about next year's summer 'vacation' of clinicals. Because if this year was bad after a year of summer vacation, what will it do to you to have no break at all?

That's a future you problem, thankfully.

You're still feeling sorry for yourself when you reach the gas station right next to your apartment building. You walk right by it, remember what's in your fridge or pantry—thanks, grocery store self, thinking you don't need any snacking foods—then backtrack.

Since starting vet school, you've tried to be healthier with your eating habits. Brains lacking in nutrients absorb information less efficiently, after all. But you're still a sucker for Cheez-Its and energy drinks.

You won't drink it tonight, obviously.

Right as you put the items on the counter for the bored-looking cashier to scan the barcodes, something cold presses to your temple.

The cashier freezes, eyes blown wide with panic.

"Easy there," someone says to your left. A man, voice oily in a way that sets your teeth on edge immediately. "Do what I say, or I blow their brains out, then yours."

A gun.

A gun is pressed to your head.

Because of course it is. A shitty way to end a shitty day. You should have kept walking right past the gas station.

Before you moved to Gotham, you might have screamed and panicked, but you know better now. You know to stay calm.

You clench your fists to stop them from shaking so noticeably, but otherwise don't move. You've seen hostage situations before, because this is Gotham, but you've never been the hostage.

The gun feels heavy. And so cold, like it's sapping all the heat from your skin.

"Okay, dude," the cashier said soothingly. "You want the money in the register?"

The robber scoffs. "Obviously."

"All right." The cashier's voice is even and soft, unthreatening. You wonder if training for situations like these are required for cashiers in Gotham. It certainly hadn't been for your old job, although that hadn't been in New Jersey, and it hadn't been at a twenty-four seven gas station, either. "I need to get a key to unlock it, okay? So I'm reaching below the counter."

"Just get the key," the robber demands. The gun shifts against your temple. You fantasize for a half-second about acting like an action hero, disarming him and taking him down all on your own. But you're not a vigilante and you've never been in a real-life fight before. You don't think you're fast enough to get out of the barrel's way before he pulls the trigger. If you managed to shove it away, what if he fired and hit the cashier instead?

Then comes the sound of another gun clicking.

Great, you think half-hysterically. Just what we need. Even more deadly weapons.

"Lower the gun," growls a modulated voice, and everyone freezes.

The Red Hood is standing behind the robber, also pointing a gun to his head like the meme of people lined up in a church with guns aimed at the person in front of them.

The robber lets his gun dip a little bit. Distracted enough that it's not pressed directly to your temple anymore.

Not to brag, but you recover the quickest. It's probably the adrenaline.

Thank God you keep your keychain in hand while out at night. Your fingers shake, but you have your pepper spray up in a second, and the robber's turning to look at your sudden movement when you squeeze down on the nozzle.

The spray hits him directly in the eyes, and his howl of pain is immediate. But you don't stop spraying, even when the cashier starts to splutter and your own eyes water.

The gun goes off, once in the robber's hands, and a second time when it hits the ground because he's dropped it in favor of clutching his burning face.

You stop the stream of pepper spray, because now the air is spicy when you breathe, but can't force yourself to lower your hand. The Red Hood quickly handcuffs the would-be robber, which is only difficult because he's clawing at his eyes in pain, and executes a tricky-looking martial arts move to get him on the ground.

Despite everything, you're impressed.

The Red Hood is bigger than maybe anyone you've ever seen before. He could have punched the robber in half like paper, probably, but you appreciate the finesse a little bit more.

"Hey." A gentle voice, and gentle hands, take the pepper spray out of your grip. "Quick thinking there," you're complimented. By the fucking Red Hood, one of Gotham's most infamous crime lords. The first time you read about him in the papers, he was chopping off people's heads, and every story since has been similarly alarming. But he's not supposed to be here; the Red Hood stays in Park Row, which locals call Crime Alley, apparently, and you've always steered very clear from that part of town.

"Can you look at me?"

You do. Maybe he won't chop off your head if you listen well enough.

"Are you okay?"

You blink. That... does not compute.

The Red Hood doesn't save people. And he doesn't leave Crime Alley. So what's he doing outside of Crime Alley, saving people?

The robber is still screaming, eyes screwed up in pain. He's handcuffed on the ground.

"You should probably let him wash out his eyes, at least," you tell the cashier. "Pepper spray is pretty painful." You'd sprayed yourself once out of curiosity, realized how much it burned, then sprinted to the shower to rinse it off. Which, pro tip: not a good move, especially with warm water. Water reactivates it by opening your pores, or something, and when you're in the shower it just spreads all over your body.

Your eyes are watering. The Red Hood sees that, because he tells you, "Let's get some air," and tugs you out of the gas station.

He's right. The cool night air does feel good. You blink away the stinging in your eyes and he repeats, "Are you okay?" His voice is robotic from the mask, but kind of pleasant at the same time. You'd never guess just from listening to him that he's a killer.

"Yes," you say automatically. "Thanks," you add. You're lightheaded for some reason; you sway on your feet.

"You sure?" he asks critically. "You look... pale." Judging by the pause, 'pale' wasn't the word he really wanted to say. The red helmet tilts. "You weren't shot, were you?"

"I don't think so," you shrug. Then you look down at yourself and realize that there's a large bloodstain on your hip. "Never mind. I think I was."

"Jesus!" he yelps at the sight. It's kind of funny, actually, this grown man built like a brick shithouse yelping at the sight of blood. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You shrug and peel your sticky shirt away from the wound to inspect it. "I thought I just bumped something." Sure enough, it's just a graze. You weren't sure which shot had hit you, but you'd honestly been injured worse. Plus, supervising surgeries at the animal clinic you'd worked at for years has desensitized you to the sight of blood. Maybe it's also altered your perception on what 'serious injuries' count as; the amount of times you've been bitten by startled dogs...

"You need to go to the hospital."

"It's just a scratch," you argue. "I can't go to the hospital. I need to feed my cat."

"Your cat can wait. You're bleeding a lot."

"I'm already late, and if I miss dinner, he'll start pissing all over my apartment."

The Red Hood sighs. "Where do you live?"

Your mouth opens to answer on instinct. You snap it shut just in time and glare. "Why?"

"So I can feed your cat for you while you go to the hospital."

It's nice of him to offer, but... "No."

"No?"

Maybe it's not the best idea to refuse Gotham's most prominent crime lord, but it would also be pretty stupid to tell a strange man where you live. Especially when he happens to be said crime lord.

"Look," you sigh. "I'm a vet student. I have surgical tools at home to treat myself with, and I promise, under the blood, the bullet barely hit me. I've been hurt worse by Chihuahuas that hate the vet."

"There's no way I can convince you to change your mind?"

"It's been a long day," you sigh. "I really, really just want to go home." And he's blocking the path. Your apartment building is directly behind him, just calling your name.

"At least let me walk you to your building." He holds his hands up at your suspicious look and assures you, "I won't ask for the apartment number."

"I'm literally right there." You point.

He turns, sees how close you are to being home, and says, "Seriously?"

"Seriously. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were some kind of villain."

"I'm reformed," he grumbles.

"Well, good for you."

You make sure you have your keys and your wallet, then step around him and make it all the way to your building's door before he calls, "Wait!" The Red Hood's jogging to catch up to you, holding the box of Cheez-Its and energy drink you'd almost died for. "You forgot these," he says.

"Thanks," you say, taking them. It would have been a shame to waste four dollars.

"You're welcome," he says. There's something odd about his voice, but you attribute it to the mask, scan to be let into the building, and make sure it's fully closed before heading to the elevator.

Your cat is unhappy about dinner being an hour late. He weaves between your feet, making his protests loudly and viscerally known. You wince. He's worse than the dogs that bark in this building sometimes.

Your poor neighbors.

You give him his wet food, then hop in the shower to clean off your hip. It bled a lot, but once the blood washes away, it's actually not as bad as you thought. You've stitched up animals before, but never yourself, and decide against trying tonight. If it heals a little unevenly, who cares? No one will see it, anyway.

You pad the wound with gauze, tape it over, and fall into bed. Staring at the ceiling, you're forced to admit to yourself that you may be looking up more in the future. Just to see if anyone in a red helmet is running on a rooftop nearby.

It was a long day. But, strangely, almost dying wasn't the worst part of it.

Actually... it may have been the best part.

~~

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[cherryxbooo]

We are a team

Summary: Y/N and Jungkook’s secret three-year relationship is exposed by Dispatch, leading to a wave of hate toward Y/N. Overwhelmed, she distances herself and spirals into self-doubt, but Jungkook’s unwavering love and public defense bring her back.

Note: First time writing for Jungkook even though I've been in the fandom for ages (ikr it's a shame). I tried giving it my own spin, so let me know what you think! Have a nice reading time cherries!

Reader x Jeon Jungkook

Genre: fluff/angst

I always knew my life was different, but I never really understood the full extent of how different it was until I started dating Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook wasn’t just any person; he was an idol, an icon. One of the seven members of BTS, the global sensation that had taken the world by storm.

He was everything anyone could dream of. Beautiful, talented, and charismatic beyond measure. And somehow, against all odds, I ended up with him. The truth is, it still doesn’t feel real sometimes.

But before all of the glitz and glamour, before the screaming fans and flashing cameras, there was just him and me.

It started like any other relationship, but it quickly turned into something that felt different from all the others.

The quiet dinners, the stolen moments at his apartment or mine, long talks about our dreams, our fears, and everything in between. We shared the same kind of energy, an unspoken understanding that didn’t need to be explained.

He could say so much with just one look, and I could do the same. It was a beautiful dance of balance—where I didn’t need the world to know us, where our love didn’t need to be validated by anyone.

For the first year, it was perfect. We kept our relationship private, just the way we wanted it.

His fame was an overwhelming beast, and my life, simple as it was, didn’t need the attention of the public.

Our love existed in these hidden pockets of time, these quiet, beautiful moments where only we mattered.

We could escape from the world and just be. And I loved it.

I had never expected to fall in love with someone like Jungkook. He wasn’t just a celebrity; he was kind, grounded, and so incredibly caring.

He was the type of person who would send me a message in the middle of a busy day just to ask how I was.

Or send me a random picture of something he thought I’d like, just because he knew it would make me smile.

I remember the first time he told me he loved me. It wasn’t a grand gesture or an elaborate confession.

It was on a rainy evening, curled up on the couch after a long day of practice. He looked at me with those deep, dark eyes, and said softly, “I love you, you know.”

I smiled, squeezing his hand in mine. “I know. I love you, too.”

It felt so simple, yet in that moment, it felt like the most important thing in the world. And that’s how it always was with him. Everything was simple, but it was everything.

But things change, even in the quietest of lives. The world has a funny way of pushing itself into places where it doesn’t belong.

It was the end of the year, a time when the media and Dispatch were notorious for revealing celebrity relationships.

Every year, they’d release the identities of new couples, always making headlines. I knew it was coming.

The pressure was mounting. People were starting to whisper. I had seen articles, blogs, and even fan accounts speculating about my relationship with Jungkook.

But none of it felt real. They didn’t know. No one did.

Then came that one fateful day. It was just like any other morning until I got the message.

I had just finished breakfast, my phone buzzing on the kitchen counter. I reached for it, not expecting anything out of the ordinary.

But there it was.

A picture of Jungkook and me, a candid shot from one of our rare outings in public. We had gone to a quiet café to grab some coffee, and somehow, someone had managed to snap the photo.

And just like that, Dispatch had their story. They had their moment.

It was one of those things that hit me like a freight train, a hard, cold reality. As soon as I saw the post, I felt the room spin. The caption was simple, yet it felt like a wrecking ball:

BTS’s Jeon Jungkook and his mystery girlfriend revealed!

dispatch

Liked by kpopteagiver, jungkookupdates, and 1,232,458 others

dispatch BTS’s Jeon Jungkook and his mystery girlfriend, revealed! Here's what we know: Jeon Jungkook member of BTS has been spotted several times with the same girl. Our sources confirmed the two to be a couple. The girls identity is also revealed, she's a normal university student that goes by the name of y/n. The pair has been together for 3 years apparently. Why Jungkook chose a regular girl instead of an idol is still a big mystery.

View all comments

jjk97lvrrr Ew what the hell?! Who is that. 🤢

bangtan4rver Jungkook can do so much better 🙄

boraaajk1 💔🤮

btsmylovly7 I can't believe this my babyyy jk 😭😢

jkfancam2019 Yesss fandom cleanse 🤭

hobixtaetae7 Some of you need to grow up smh he isn’t going to notice you so sit down damn 💀

chimschubbycheeks1 Nah fr, I mean we all saw it coming these fine men can't be single forever besides she seems nice

jinnymytime77 I agree, the ones that act like that are such a shame to our fandom.

The comments flooded in almost immediately.

“She’s so basic, why is he with her?”

“Doesn’t she know she’s just using him for fame?”

“I’m so disappointed in him. He deserves better.”

I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even notice the tears that had started streaming down my face until I felt them drop onto my phone screen. It was like the world was collapsing around me.

I threw my phone onto the couch and buried my face in my hands. It wasn’t just the hate; it was the fact that the world now knew.

My private, peaceful life with Jungkook was no longer private.

The silence that had once surrounded us had been shattered.

The days that followed were a blur. Jungkook tried reaching out to me, sending me texts, calling me—but I couldn’t bring myself to answer him. I couldn’t find the words to tell him how broken I was.

I tried to ignore it. I tried to push it all down. But it was hard, so hard to ignore the flood of comments, the constant reminders of the hate and judgment that had suddenly filled my world.

I didn’t leave my apartment much. I spent most of my time locked in my room, scrolling through the endless comments that tore at me piece by piece.

It wasn’t just the hate from strangers, though. It was the pressure, the weight of it all. Jungkook had always been in the public eye.

He was used to it. But me? I was just a regular person, living a normal life. The spotlight that had never once been on me now seemed like a blinding floodlight, burning away every bit of my peace.

I distanced myself from everyone, even from Jungkook. I didn’t want him to see how weak I had become, how much the hate was getting to me.

I didn’t want him to feel guilty. I didn’t want to burden him with my pain.

But Jungkook wasn’t about to let me do that.

I was lying in bed one evening when I heard a soft knock on the door. I didn’t even have to guess who it was.

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “Can we talk?”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to lock myself away and pretend everything was fine. But I couldn’t do that anymore. Not with him.

I stood up slowly and opened the door, and there he was—his face drawn, worried, but still, unmistakably, the same Jungkook. My Jungkook.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his gaze never leaving me. I could see the worry in his eyes.

“Y/N, why are you doing this? I’ve been trying to reach you. You can’t just shut me out like this.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“I just... I can’t handle it, Jungkook. I can’t handle the hate, the comments, the constant pressure. I feel like I’m suffocating. I’m not strong enough for this. I don’t know how to handle the spotlight. It’s too much.”

Jungkook’s eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup my face. “You don’t have to handle it alone. I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“But it’s not just about us,” I said, looking away. “It’s about you too. You’ve worked so hard for everything, and I’m just... messing it all up.”

He shook his head, his fingers brushing away the tears from my cheek.

“No, you’re not. Don’t you ever think that. You mean the world to me. The hate... It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re together. That’s all that matters.”

I felt the weight of his words in my chest, and slowly, I let myself lean into him, resting my head on his chest.

“I’m so scared, Kook. I’m scared of losing you, of ruining everything for you.”

Jungkook held me tighter, his voice soft but firm. “You won’t lose me. Never. I won’t let the media or anyone else get between us.”

I looked up at him, the tears still falling. “But what if it’s too much? What if I can’t do this?”

“You can,” he whispered, his hand gently stroking my hair.

“You can, because we’re a team. And I’ll be right here beside you, every step of the way.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to believe that everything would be okay.

That maybe, just maybe, we could get through this together.

Jungkook and I spent the next few hours sitting together, his presence a balm to the sharp pain in my chest.

He didn’t try to force words out of me or ask for any promises. Instead, he sat beside me, patiently waiting, letting me gather the strength to speak.

We didn’t need words to communicate. It was as if he knew exactly what I was feeling.

His hand, warm and reassuring, held mine, grounding me in the chaos of my emotions.

But even though he was here, with me, I still felt the weight of the world pressing down.

The constant barrage of notifications, the insults, the assumptions. All of it was suffocating.

I had always tried to live a quiet, unassuming life, away from the public eye.

I hadn’t signed up for this level of scrutiny. Yet here I was, caught in a storm I had no control over.

The following days were no easier. Despite Jungkook’s gentle reassurances and attempts to keep me grounded, I felt more alone than ever.

He would send me messages, voice notes, and even pop by my apartment when he could, but the pressure of it all was too much.

I couldn’t bring myself to face the outside world.

One day, I woke up to an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. The weight of the previous weeks had drained me, physically and emotionally.

The constant tension in my body had made it hard to sleep, and my mind felt like it was on a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios.

I could hear the voices in my head telling me that maybe I wasn’t cut out for this life, that I was never meant to be a part of his world.

I looked at my phone. The notifications were still there—more comments, more articles, more people voicing their opinions. Some were kind, but many were filled with venom.

I read one comment that stood out:

“She doesn’t deserve him. She’s just another girl trying to ride his coattails. When is she going to leave him?”

I wanted to throw my phone across the room. The hurt was unbearable, and no matter how many times Jungkook reassured me, I couldn’t escape it.

The world was so quick to judge me, and I felt as if every part of my life was under a microscope. Every action, every word, every gesture was scrutinized.

I felt like I was drowning, and the shore was so far away.

But then, Jungkook did something unexpected. Something that, in that moment, I never knew I needed.

It was late in the evening, and I was once again buried under a mountain of blankets on the couch, staring at my phone.

The silence in my apartment felt suffocating, the glow of the screen the only thing that kept me company.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I saw Jungkook’s name on the screen.

“I’m coming over. We need to talk.”

I knew he could sense my distance. He had been trying so hard to break through my walls, and for the most part, I had been shutting him out.

But this time, I couldn’t ignore him. My heart ached just at the thought of his face. I needed to see him.

I threw the blankets aside, quickly running my fingers through my hair, trying to make myself presentable.

By the time the doorbell rang, I was standing in the entryway, a mixture of relief and dread swirling inside me.

“Jungkook,” I whispered as I opened the door. He stood there, looking at me with a mixture of worry and determination.

His expression softened as soon as he saw me, and he immediately pulled me into a hug. His arms enveloped me, warm and familiar.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I should’ve noticed sooner. I never should have let you go through this alone.”

I could feel his heart pounding against my chest, and in that moment, I knew he was just as scared as I was. We were in this together.

No matter what the world said, we were a team, we are a team.

“Jungkook, I—” I started to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. The tears I had been holding back for days finally began to spill over.

My body shook with the force of my sobs, and I clung to him like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to handle all this hate. It feels like I’m losing myself.”

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. His fingers gently wiped away my tears.

“You don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. Always.”

His words didn’t magically make the pain go away, but they made me feel something I hadn’t in days—hope.

A small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could get through this with him by my side.

“I don’t want to lose you, Kook,” I whispered.

“I don’t want to be the one who drags you down. You’ve worked so hard for everything. I don’t want to be the reason your career is affected.”

Jungkook’s expression darkened, a fierce protectiveness overtaking him.

“Don’t you dare say that. We talked about this already. I don’t care about any of that. You are my priority, Y/N. Always. What they say... what they think... it doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that we’re okay. That you’re okay.”

His voice was firm, unwavering, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of calm wash over me.

He was right. The world could say whatever they wanted, but as long as we were in this together, nothing else mattered.

The following weeks were a battle. I tried to keep a low profile, but the world seemed determined to keep me in the spotlight.

The media, the fans—everyone had an opinion. The comments never stopped, and the hate continued to pour in.

But Jungkook refused to let me face it alone. He was by my side every step of the way.

He would show up at my apartment, bring me food, hold me when the weight of it all became too much. He knew when I needed comfort, and he never hesitated to offer it.

There were nights when we would just lay together, talking about everything and nothing, trying to distract ourselves from the world outside.

He kept reassuring me, telling me that this was just a phase.

“People will come around,” he would say, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“They’ll see the real you, Y/N. And when they do, they’ll love you as much as I do.”

And slowly, over time, I began to believe him.

A turning point came when I received a message from one of my close friends, who had been keeping an eye on my social media accounts.

She told me that there was a shift happening. People were starting to see me for who I was—not just as Jungkook’s girlfriend, but as a person.

The comments started to change. There was more positivity, more support.

“I don’t know how this happened, Y/N,” she said, “but you’ve become something of an icon. People are really starting to love you. Your personality shines through. Keep being yourself. That’s all you need to do.”

It was a revelation that hit me like a ton of bricks. In the midst of all the hate, there was love.

There were people who saw beyond the headlines, beyond the rumors. They saw me. And that made all the difference.

As time went on, the media’s obsession with me began to fade. People who once tore me apart started to support me, praising my strength, my resilience.

The negativity was still there, but it no longer consumed me.

Jungkook, too, seemed to find peace in the shift. As he saw the public warming to me, he grew more relaxed, even a little playful.

He would tease me, jokingly asking if I had become the “queen of social media” now that everyone loved me.

“Don’t get too big-headed now,” he would say with a grin, pretending to be jealous of all the attention I was getting.

I would laugh, playfully nudging him. “Maybe I should start charging for autographs.”

“You’re already stealing the spotlight from me,” he would joke, but there was always a warmth in his eyes. “I’m the jealous one now.”

And in those moments, everything felt right again. I knew we had weathered the storm, and no matter what the world threw our way, we would face it together.

The day finally came when I stood in front of the mirror, ready to face the world again.

The pain, the heartbreak, the endless nights of crying—everything felt like it had been worth it.

I had fought, and I had come out stronger. The world had tried to break me, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

And Jungkook? He was right beside me, as always. Together, we had survived.

Months passed, and life seemed to return to some semblance of normalcy.

The media had moved on to other scandals, other stories to report. The spotlight on Jungkook and me had dimmed, but the consequences of the past still lingered like a shadow that refused to fade completely.

Jungkook and I had become experts at navigating the delicate balance between public attention and private moments. We’d learned to take the good with the bad.

On days when the media tried to spin stories that were less than flattering, we laughed it off, knowing we had each other.

On days when the weight of the world felt unbearable, we leaned on one another and found comfort in our shared silence.

It wasn’t always easy. There were still days when I would scroll through my social media and see a comment that hurt—something cruel, something unnecessary.

The pain would flare up, and the temptation to retreat back into myself would always be there.

But Jungkook’s words echoed in my mind: “We’re a team. Together, we can handle anything.” And with him by my side, I slowly began to believe it.

One afternoon, we sat together in our favorite café, a quiet little spot hidden in the heart of Seoul.

The world outside was bustling, but inside, it felt like we were in our own little bubble, away from the chaos.

Jungkook leaned over the table, his gaze soft and tender as he reached for my hand.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice serious yet filled with a hint of playfulness.

“We should go somewhere. Just the two of us. No cameras, no distractions. Somewhere where we can be ourselves, without all the noise.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Where?”

He smiled, that mischievous smile that always made my heart flutter. “It’s a surprise. But I promise it’ll be perfect.”

I didn’t need to ask any more questions. I trusted him completely. Jungkook had always been someone who knew how to make me feel special, even in the most ordinary moments.

It was one of the reasons I fell for him in the first place—his ability to turn every moment into something meaningful.

Days later, we found ourselves on a private jet, heading to a secluded beach on a small island far from the hustle and bustle of the city.

It was just the two of us, free to be whoever we wanted to be without the weight of public expectations hanging over us.

The air was warm, the sky a perfect shade of blue, and the ocean stretched out before us in a shimmering expanse.

It felt like we were the only two people in the world.

Jungkook took my hand as we walked along the shoreline, the sound of the waves crashing against the sand filling the air.

“This is it,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Just us. No one else.”

I looked at him, a sense of peace washing over me. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe freely again.

The media, the hate, the drama—none of it mattered in this moment. All that mattered was that we were together.

“You’re right,” I said softly. “This is perfect.”

Jungkook stopped walking and turned to face me, his expression soft and earnest.

“I know it’s been hard, Y/N. I know I can’t take away all the pain you’ve been feeling, but I hope you know that I’m always here for you. Through everything.”

My heart swelled with emotion as I looked into his eyes.

“I know, Kook. And I’ll never take that for granted. You’ve been my rock, even when everything seemed impossible.”

He smiled, pulling me into a tight hug. “You’re stronger than you think. And you don’t have to face anything alone. I’ve got you, always.”

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in each other’s arms, surrounded only by the sound of the waves and the soft rustling of the breeze.

It was a moment of pure tranquility, a brief respite from the chaos that had ruled our lives for so long.

The following days were filled with laughter, adventure, and a sense of freedom I hadn’t felt in months.

We explored the island, tried new foods, and spent hours simply enjoying each other’s company.

There were no cameras, no headlines—just us, living in the moment.

On the last night of our trip, we sat on the beach, watching the sun set over the horizon.

The sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, and the air was thick with the scent of saltwater and sand.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” I murmured, leaning my head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arm around me. “Maybe not forever. But I’d like to come back here with you someday. Just the two of us.”

I smiled, the warmth of his words filling me with happiness. “I’d like that too.”

We sat in comfortable silence, watching as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky. For once, the weight of the world felt light. It was just us, and that was enough.

When we returned to Seoul, the world seemed to have shifted. The media had, for the most part, stopped hounding me.

I was no longer just Jungkook’s girlfriend. Slowly but surely, I had carved out my own space in the public eye, not as a reflection of him, but as my own person.

People began to recognize me not just as an idol’s partner, but as someone who had her own strengths, her own dreams, and her own voice.

It wasn’t easy. There were still days when the negativity would creep in. But now, I was able to handle it with more confidence.

I had Jungkook to thank for that. His unwavering support, his belief in me, and his constant encouragement had helped me rediscover myself.

One day, as we were walking down the street, hand in hand, a group of fans approached us.

They were excited, but this time, instead of shying away, I smiled and waved. They returned the gesture, some of them even shouting how much they loved me.

It was a surreal feeling—a far cry from the hate and venom I had experienced not long ago.

Jungkook squeezed my hand, his grin wide. “Look at you. You’re practically a star now.”

I rolled my eyes, playfully shoving him. “Stop being dramatic. I’m just me.”

But in that moment, I realized something. I had become more than just “Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

I had become my own person—someone people admired, someone they saw for who I truly was.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Well, I’ll admit it. I’m a little jealous of how many people adore you now.”

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Jealous? You? The Jeon Jungkook is jealous?”

He smirked. “What can I say? You’re a hot treasure.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re the only one who matters, Kook. Don’t forget that.”

As time passed, our relationship continued to thrive. The media, while still watching us closely, began to accept us.

People no longer saw me as an outsider, but as a part of Jungkook’s world, and in many ways, a part of the K-pop community.

I wasn’t just his girlfriend—I was Y/N, a woman who had fought through adversity and come out stronger on the other side.

And through it all, Jungkook remained my rock. He never wavered in his love for me, and I never wavered in mine for him.

We had weathered the storm together, and we knew that, no matter what came next, we would face it hand in hand.

One evening, as we sat together, watching the sunset from our apartment, Jungkook turned to me with a thoughtful expression.

“You know,” he said, his voice soft,

“I don’t think I could’ve made it through all of this without you. You’ve taught me a lot. You’ve shown me that love isn’t just about the good times. It’s about sticking together when things get tough.”

I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. “I think we’ve both learned that. And we’ll keep learning, together.”

He kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering for a moment. “I love you, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

“I love you too, Kook,” I whispered back. “And I always will.”

"You're such a sap when being emotional."

"Shut up y/n, you love it."

yourusername posted on Instagram!

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yourusername Little last months photo dumb 🫶

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jjk97 🩷 Liked by author

j.m Did my invite get lost in the mail?

thv Seems like mine got lost too

jjk97 As if 😬

j.m @jjk97 🤨

jimjimtae_1 She's so prettyyy

euphoriajk7 She's living the life purr 💅

jungkookstan_0ne Ew disgusting 🤢

stan4frv Jealous much 🙄

minyyoongs You wish that was you huh 🤪

joonieslicenses12 Get your negativity out of here 🤦‍♀️Jungkook isn't going to pick you 💀

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jjk97 Work & relaxation

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jin Relaxation 🤨? Get back to work.

jjk97 Hyunggggg 🥲

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j.m Jkkkkkkkk

uarmyhope Hard working jungkookieee

The end

[rebelliousstories]

Resolutions

New Year/New Fics

Relationship: Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,182

Main Masterlist: Here

Marvel Masterlist: Here

Summary: A new year draws near, and thus the traditions of resolutions that they now have to explain the concept of to an alien.

Consider Donating: Here

“Eddie, what are we doing?” A growl voice interrupted the man who was currently searching for… something. Even the symbiote who was in his thoughts did not know.

“Tryin’ to find a notepad. I’ve gotta have one left over that I can use.” Eddie muttered, shuffling things around.

“Why do you need a notepad, Eddie? What do you need to write down that I can’t remember?” He asked, staying inside for right now.

“Makin’ New Year’s resolutions with the girl today. That’s what we wanted to do, is write them down together. Aha!” After what seemed like forever, Eddie grabbed a random writing pad that was buried under various articles and papers on his desk. Spending another minute, he also found a pen for himself, and set both objects on the coffee table to use later.

Brock busied himself for the next few minutes making sure the dinner he made was ready for when she got to his apartment. Just a simple dinner of a frozen pizza, some hard ciders since he knew she did not like drinking beer, and a chocolate cake from the diner down the block for dessert. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, but he was still getting the pizza out of the oven. However, that was unacceptable for the alien.

“Eddie!” Venom cheered, taking control to drag him to the door. In the process, he dropped the pan with the pizza on it, sending it plummeting to the floor. But inky black tendrils shot out from his back to save the delicious food before it could be ruined. “It’s not nice to keep the lady waiting.”

“Yeah, well, if you would have let me finish putting the pan on the counter, I’d be doing this myself,” Eddie snipped, not even fighting against it. Venom decided that he was going to open the door first, because another tendril zoomed forward to wrap around the knob.

How one could be so beautiful, Eddie would never understand. But the answer was right in front of him. She was just dressed in a simple t-shirt, with a leather motorcycle jacket, boots and jeans, but it was still the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. In her hands, her motorcycle helmet that was decked out in a stunning electric blue color scheme with an owl.

“Eds, hey baby.” Stepping into his apartment, she dumped her helmet on the floor near the door as she wrapped her arms around him. Sighing, the man pressed his cheek onto the top of her head before pressing a kiss there.

“Hey, gorgeous. Missed ya.” He whispered, pulling away just a bit. Being able to take in her features, he was absolutely floored that someone like her was with someone like him.

“Missed you too, Eddie. I-” a loud crash cut her off. The sound of a pan hitting the floor made both humans look at each other. One of them was trying not to laugh, the other was trying to control his annoyance.

“Is that-” she began to ask.

“Yep. You wanna come out buddy?” No sooner had he said that, the black symbiote appeared from his left shoulder.

“Hey, V.” She giggled, rubbing the top of his head like you would a dog.

“Hello, pretty lady. I am so glad that you are here. Eddie says that you are doing something for the new year tonight.” He stated in that gravely voice of his. Eddie chose that moment to usher her into the kitchen while he assessed the damage his friend left.

Thankfully it was not much, the pizza was cut questionably on the countertop, but it was all there. Only the pan and some crumbs were on the floor, to which he groaned as he bent over. Hearing his girlfriend giggle behind him, Brock shot her a playful glare as he stood back up.

“Don’t wanna hear it, doll.” Pressing a hand to his back, Eddie shook his head as he heard more giggles.

“Anyways, as I was saying, V. Yeah, we’re gonna have a quiet little date night in and write down our New Year’s resolutions while we’re at it.” She continued, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“And what do you do with these resolutions?” Venom questioned, still starring at her.

“Well, you try to keep to them for the coming year. Usually it’s things like losing weight, reading a certain number of books, or even picking up a new hobby.”

Plating their food, Eddie put his left hand on her back as the right held the tray. Making it over to the couch, he sunk down into the cushions, set the food on the table, and grabbed his girlfriend’s hips. In an instant, she was yanked down onto his own lap, as Eddie finally got the chance to hold her properly. Nuzzling his face into her neck, he was delighted to hear her giggles as his two day old scruff tickled her skin.

Sighing into his hair, she felt herself relax. “What do you want to do next year?”

“Already starting, huh?” He teased, pulling back just a bit to look at her soft features.

“Well, considering the big guy still over your shoulder… yes.” With a groan, Eddie looked at his alien friend, who was smiling widely with those insanely sharp teeth of his.

“I would like to make my own resolutions, Eddie.” He growled, grabbing for the pen and paper blindly. After he got it, he was scribbling something down, and then passing it to the woman. Honestly, the fact that it was even legible was impressive.

“‘Eat more bad guy brains.’ V, these are supposed to be things that better you.”

“It does. Makes me calmer and nicer. Plus, less bad guys to do bad guy things.” Venom tried to justify it, smiling with all those teeth.

Rolling her eyes, she smirked as she wrapped her arms around Eddie’s neck, carefully avoiding where Venom connected to the man. “What about you, Eds? You never answered me.”

He thought for a minute, truly wondering what he wanted to do to better himself in the coming year. “Maybe start that series that I wanted to. Something we could do together? What about you?”

“I’d like to get back into painting. That was always something that relaxed me. I miss it a lot.” She shrugged casually.

“I remember seeing those works from when you were a teenager. You should definitely do that.” Eddie kissed her nose.

“Anything else,” came her ask as she pressed her face into his neck.

“No. We can’t write these down later. Let’s just enjoy ourselves for a minute.” Eddie sighed, starting up a movie for them.

“Okay. Tuck inside, V. You can come back out later.” Her words made the symbiote disappear, thankfully, without a fight.

As they sat there on the couch, Eddie realized that he was going to have to be a bit sneaky with one of his resolutions. The ring box that it went along with was being hidden; so why should not the resolution be?

[angeliicheartt]

🐚 "___ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ!" — send a fandom, a date outfit and a date idea and i'll write a blurb with a character i think would fit best!

Jjk ! A vinyl/thrift store type date !!

Also hello lovely 🫶 i hope your having a good day!

"ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ."

includes: izuku midoriya

gn!reader

note: 0.4k wc, fluff, i've matched this outfit with izuku!! it gives me matching couple vibes tehe

izuku watched as you rifled through the many many clothes hanging throughout the store. a new thrift shop had opened up and you expressed to izuku, your boyfriend, that you wanted to check it out.

so here you two are, you rummaging through numerous amounts of clothing, and izuku holding whatever you find to your liking. and he’s happy to do so, it’s practically his job as your adoring boyfriend.

so each time you find a cute top, maybe some baggy jeans, you toss it in the general direction of izuku, and he catches each piece of clothing without fail, smiling like a fool.

you hold up a piece of clothing, turning to your loving boyfriend and holding the hanger up to yourself, “is this cute?” you ask, looking down at the article, trying to gauge how well it would fit. 

“i think anything looks cute on you, but i like that one.” he says sweetly, earning himself a kiss on the cheek and another piece of clothing to hold. you look through a few more items before turning back to izuku, taking note of the mass of clothes he’s holding and you coo, “aw, izuku, im sorry, i didn’t realize how much i was grabbing.” 

you move to take some but he only takes a step back, giving you a lovesick grin, “it’s fine, this is nothing.” he says genuinely, and you know he’s definitely carried heavier things than a heap of clothing, but you still feel bad.

“but..”

“but nothing! it’s fine, i promise. are you done?” he asks, tilting his head slightly in question. you nod as you lead him towards the check out. before you can even think of grabbing your money, izuku plops the pile on top of the counter, already ready to stick his card into the reader. 

“izukuu, you can’t pay too, i already feel bad,” you whine, watching helplessly as he pays for the haul. he easily grabs the two large bags of clothes, holding both in one hand before taking your hand in the other. 

“i promise, it’s fine sweetheart.” he murmurs before planting a soft kiss against your cheek, “but i wouldn’t mind a thank you,” he teases.

“thank you, izu,” you murmur back, stopping briefly and turning izuku just enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips, “i appreciate it.”

“anything for you,” he muses, the two of you finally heading back.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @emmab3mma @zerozuku @comicxzzsalt @goobzi @sviidoll

[ravinoforre]

So I saw an opinion on a character that I, respectfully, don't agree with at all, and it isn't the first time I've come across this particular take either. I don't like nor want fandom discourse, making counter points to arguments in general make me nervous, but as someone particularly attached to them and their related characters, I have a lot of thoughts I want to get out there in the hopes that maybe they can be seen from a more positive perspective. So um, here they are. Get comfortable, this is gonna be a long one. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Defense of Lily (Pokémon XD).

Those of you who've played this might already know what I'm referring to, so I'm just going to rip off the proverbial band-aid. Right at the start of the game, as you, the player, are being introduced to her, one of the first things she says is;

...and ok yeah, I admit. This is kind of a weird thing for her to say (in front of her son too, oops). This is usually one of two instances that people latch onto to prove she's an awful mother, but there is, at least in my opinion, some hidden context to her words. First of all, she's not wrong; the whole lab does in fact constantly sing their praises and fawn over both these kids (which is adorable tbh). Secondly, it's not unreasonable for her to believe that lots of inflated praise on a child, no matter how well meaning, may have negative consequences on their development. A kid receiving a constant stream of "you're so cool/special/talented" may end up with an inflated ego and become depressed, or even lash out in anger, if that praise either stops or something comes along to disprove it (like failing a test or making a mistake).

(Side note, I came across some partially related studies (x), (x) and an article from a parental psychologist (x) that go into different types of praise given to children; person, or ability praise ("you're so clever") vs process, or effort praise ("you worked really hard"), their effect on self esteem, personal growth, and performance, and how ability praise actually negatively effects a child's sense of worth compared to effort praise or even no praise at all. It's a lot to go through right now and this post is already going to be super long, but I mention them here because I'll go into something later that you may find rather interesting. I know I do. They're fascinating reads, too, I would recommend!)

Now listen up! Lily, contrary to the belief that she's a cold-hearted mother who shuns her offspring, actually does praise and engage with her children! Throughout the story, she'll talk to Michael and say some interesting and wonderful things as his adventure continues! The problem is that unfortunately, a lot of this proof is hidden throughout each story beat in a section of the lab that is no longer required to enter to progress (and most people won't bother to go back and speak to their own mother who apparently "hates" them). Off to find Jovi:

🥹 baby... Before saving Phenac City:

🥺😭euuhhbbebeh father mentioned During the Phenac City hostage situation:

After the Phenac stuff:

"I'm proud of you." You literally cannot get a more explicit form of praise than I'm proud of you. Hell, I can't even recall a time my own mother told me that. Fucking hell. Also. Pampered?! You hear that? She's practically contradicting those accursed two lines! By her own admission, the kids are pampered babies! Her concern isn't that people will spoil them—because they're already spoiled!

(Jovi is a pampered baby princess). I think Lily's worry in her comment is that may roll too far; it's like she says—spoiled rotten.

Ok one more example for this section:

(disclaimer: these screenshots are from the romhack XG which is why her name isn't in all caps; trust me, this same line is in base XD too) Remember the types of praise I mentioned earlier? Ability (person) praise and effort (process) praise? And how the former could be damaging to a child's self esteem? Do you notice anything particular about the way she speaks to Michael and praises him? "You've become an outstanding trainer in your own right." Not "You're so strong." "You're doing so much for the good of others." "Your courage will save the Shadow Pokémon." Not "You're so brave." "You did it all by yourself without anyone's help." She's praising his actionable efforts! She's applying process praise! (Pleeease read those studies and article, at least the first study I linked, it's genuinely insightful and fascinating, and it's even more amazing that an example of it is featured in a video game by a character most people won't interact with beyond necessity! I love this game! So! Fuckinhg!! Much!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Ahem. She's also not saying that people shouldn't praise her kids either; only that she wishes it wasn't gushing praise all the time. Too much of a good thing could be harmful, after all. Let's see...

Sounds reasonable so far, right?

...Galactic peace?! My brother in Arceus, all he did was beat you in a friendly Pokémon battle—a battle that Michael's already been led to believe he'd win anyway thanks to that previous comment from his coach (those screen caps are in chronological order)! Even without the fact that by this point he's midway through a dangerous fight against a criminal organization, it's probably not a good idea to give a developing young teen a literal God complex; what if he gets so full of himself he genuinely believes he's unbeatable... and then loses? That child's mental state is going to plummet. So even if you don't agree with Lily's praise comments, you might at least better understand where her concerns are coming from if this is potentially the kind of thing that's being told to her kids regularly.

Moving on, try putting yourself in her shoes a moment. She's a working, grieving, single mother of two who, according to an NPC in the lab "has an exceptionally high sense of responsibility".

As a scientist with the necessary expertise, she has the heavy task of helping realise a sensitive project—sensitive not just in terms of urgency (as Krane predicts Cipher is going to be a threat again), but also in terms of emotional weight; this project was something her late [husband] poured everything into until his death, so both her and Krane continued on with it; by the time the game starts, they're agonisingly close to completion. And time is of the essence. Quick tangent: watch the cut scene post Krane kidnap again. The camera rests on Lily an awfully long time. The father of her children died before this project was finished, and now Krane, a close friend of both of theirs, has been taken away by force. Both her children have witnessed something traumatic. Her daughter is sobbing. She's literally being told the situation is "hopeless" by a colleague. Imagine the sheer anguish this woman must be going through before having to push through all of it and take complete charge for the sake of finishing the project. For the morale of the entire lab staff. For the sake of keeping her kids calm. For the fate of the region itself. Anyway, because of this project, and how close they are to finishing, she isn't able to afford much, if any, time off to spend with her kids "this instant". It's probably why the lab staff have pitched in to help look after them (which must make her feel pretty damn guilty with that high sense of responsibility of hers). It's why she asks her son to go find his little sister in her stead.

And this brings me to point number two that I've seen used countless times to slander her:

She just lets Jovi run off on her own, and doesn't care what her kids are up to.

Which... no, sorry, hang on here. Lily isn't letting Jovi run off on her own. For starters, both her and Krane believe she's in or somewhere outside the lab grounds, playing hide and seek with the caretaker, Adon.

A game of hide and seek (particularly if they're taking turns hiding) is likely why nobody's seen her since lunch, by the way, and not Lily not giving a damn about the whereabouts of her child. And when she's found and brought home again, Lily says this;

This implies she's spoken to her daughter about running off on her own before, and we do later get to know that Jovi has a habit of running off ahead; she runs off down the steps in Gateon ahead of her brother, she rushes off to deliver the machine part by herself to the chamber, and even though Michael is the one asked, she runs off to go see Datan—despite Lily telling her she doesn't need to do that. This means if Jovi gets invested in something, it's apparently hard to stop her. Visiting Kaminko's is a recent fixation of hers, and if Adon is already aware of where else she might have gone off to if she's nowhere on lab grounds, it might mean she's been there before (that, or Adon was the one who caved and told Jovi where to find the place). I might even speculate and say Lily has specifically told Jovi before about not running off to the manor. Anyway, check out what she says when you find the little runaway but come back empty handed.

The heart-sinking realisation and disappointment in that "...Oh" alone....

So no, Lily isn't letting her young child run off on her own—Jovi is disobeying her mother. She's either used the game of hide and seek as an excuse to dip (and then forgot about Adon entirely), or she got bored midway through and decided to head to her new place of interest despite any of her mother's previous objections. (And before anyone says anything, no, that doesn't mean Jovi is a bad kid, either. She's, what, around 7 yrs old? She is doing typical little kid things, emulating her older brother, and discovering and pushing her boundaries as she grows up. I have seen some putrid, abysmal hate for her over the years too. She is a child, leave her alone.) Onto the second half of the above statement; she doesn't care what her kids are doing. As in, Michael is on a treacherous journey against a dangerous group of people and she's totally ok with letting her kid do that (as if that isn't the case with practically every mainline entry protag mother but alright, I'll bite).

Introducing one of my favourite exchanges with her in the game. During this time, the purify chamber still isn't complete, and they'll need to use an alternate way of purifying Shadow Pokémon until then—the Relic Stone in Agate Village.

oh it worries her, does it? You know what happens when No is selected?

And then she drops the conversation. There's no endless loop to get him to go, which would have been the more convenient thing for the devs to implement. But this was a very deliberate choice that tells me more about a character than I've seen done in a video game before. She's respecting her son's decision to stay home. She is not forcing him to do something he isn't comfortable with. Of course, as a video game, the purpose is to progress to the next story beat. So he has to go. Better talk to her again.

I don't even think I need to add any extra commentary, this should really speak for itself at this point.

I've also reached the image limit on this post so it's probably time I wrapped this up, so in conclusion; is Lily a bad mother, as I've seen people claim? No, and I believe I've showcased plenty to prove she isn't. She's not perfect, no parent is, but she's a damn sight more involved in her children's lives than the mainline moms, who are often nothing more than out of the way Pokémon Centers that don't acknowledge their child's journey in any meaningful way. So then, was she in the right for saying what she did at the start of the game, right after Krane praises her son, who is in earshot of this conversation? Well... also no. She could have picked a better time and place to bring it up, honestly. But God forbid a woman make a mistake or voice a concern, lest her be mischaracterized and demonized forever by two unfortunately worded lines of dialogue.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Michael, you're finally going off to the ultimate battle, aren't you? You've really grown in stature. As your mother, it makes me feel conflicted. I'm happy and proud on one hand, but I'm also a little sad. Go and get rid of Cipher, and make it quick! And come home safely."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you've managed to reach the end of my ramblings, I'd like to say thank you. Hopefully I've given you some food for thought. Maybe I've even changed your mind about her. And even if I haven't, I appreciate you taking the time to read this regardless.

[hunteresse]

Henry Cavill's public saga

It's kind of crazy to follow the hornet's nest that Henry's fandom and antifandom have become. I feel compelled to share a few things:

Personally, I have no doubt that the baby is his. No matter what 'she might hold over his head' there is not a chance in the universe that he'd associate himself to a baby that is not his.

If she's wearing an engagement ring, they are engaged. Big, small, ugly, beautiful, see through, solid, cheap, expensive, real, synthetic... they are engaged.

The vocal antifandom is of concern for sure, as 90% of what they scream about is pure fabrication and a sign of various degrees of neurosis - which is not something to be ashamed of, but it is of notice when it's so violently projected outwards for the detriment of others.

However, the 'Natalie-stans' (Andrea, Riot, Queenilyran & co) are by far some the most deplorable humans alive. They want us to believe that they are regular superfans who have moral standards, when in reality they are PAID FLYING MONKEYS (who signed NDAs so they won't ever tell you that) and who have been churning out a bizarre and proof-less narrative for four years now, trying to recruit existing fans to their side by any means necessary. Precisely because they are hired by their client(s) (Natalie for sure), it's utterly despicable how they relentlessly and crassly bully others, especially fans like that tarot reader who is clearly mentally ill - with no regard whatsoever for what cyberbullying can do to fragile minds. So you can shout and scream and bully all you like, call out legitimate bs from the other side, but you and your clients truly have less than zero moral ground to stand on and have very much won the race to the bottom.

And: if H+N truly have nothing to hide, nothing to see here, WHY is there such a solid presence online to counter the antifandom? Why are you so obsessed with proving a narrative? Why do they come out in swarms when the antifandom seems to touch a nerve? Like I said, I still think H+N do have a baby together and are engaged. In what context, shape and form this reality exists is quite nebulous... if Natalie is so happy with her man and career and new family, why does she need to pay anonymous trolls for 4 years to try and bully the world into believing that she is so happy and successful? Possibly because this relationship is based on a mutual benefit, hers being becoming a celebrity and when that plan foiled because her past bit her in the bum, she doubled down and started a strategic campaign of bought articles and on the ground vile trolls to try to still get her cake and eat it.

Whether this is a beard relationship, the sign of a man's badly handled midlife crisis or a real thing: H+N are two mediocre, rather despicable people who chose to partner up to be mediocre and despicable together. The way Henry has withered and morphed into an almost unrecognizable version of himself kinda says it all. End of story.

[thewritingginger]

18+ Imagine Taiju Shiba...

& you having hate sex.

I finally got around to watching the 2nd season of TR I’ve read the entire manga but seeing my bae Taiju animated got the wheels in my head turnin’ 😩 

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Taiju Shiba x Fem! Reader Word count: 1.1k+ words Warnings: 18+, Established relationship, Argument, Dub-con, Dirty talk, Oral sex (M! receiving), Rough sex, Slight degrading, Spanking, Creampie, Poorly edited

Enjoy ~

The two of you had been at each other's throats for the past hour and that’s not even including the car ride home and before. It’s been a while since the two of you had gotten this heated with each other. Taiju was already irritable from the moment he had woken up this morning and you knew better than to poke the bear when he is in one of his moods.

Shit had been going down with the staffing at his restaurant and to top it off there had been some family drama stirring up and the moment you tried to mediate you were in hot water since you first opened your mouth to now in your living room where the both of you are yelling over each other.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that it is Shiba family matters.  You have no place to stick your nose into it.” That got to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I was under the impression that I was your family or does this ring on my finger mean nothing?”

“Don’t try to pull that shit, you know you had no business getting between me and my brother.” Back and forth you two go, like a broken record the same words keep getting reused and rehashed—making this mess into a disaster till you finally had enough.

“You know what, I don't have to deal with this,” you say, throwing your hands in the air, “I’m leaving!” Turning on your heel, grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter.

“No the fuck you’re not,” Taiju says, heavy footstep sounding behind you.

“Yes the fuck I am,” you counter but before your hand can touch the front door handle Taiju grabs your wrist and turns your back to the door, his towering figure looming over you.

“You’re not leaving this damn house.” Leaning over you till your noses are centimeters apart, you daringly cross the distance till they are touching.

“Or what?” you taunt, any sane person would know this to be a death wish but you’re too fired up with rage to care which only fans the fury burning behind your fiance’s amber eyes.

In a blink of an eye your body becomes weightless, Taiju lifts you up and slams your back against the door before he takes your lips with his. Limbs tightening, teeth clashing and hair pulling—the two of you become a tangled mess of hot breath and lust.

Sitting on the kitchen counter with articles of clothing falling off by the second, you feel Taiju’s hard cock grinding against you. A strangled cry falls from your lips when he pulls your head back by your hair, his strong hand firmly holding your roots, leaving you little room to move.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk out that damn door.”

“Bite me,” you say before he cuts you off with his hungry mouth, he takes you back to the living room where he unceremoniously tosses you onto the couch. You watch as he tears off his remaining clothes till he is standing completely naked, his powerful body on full display. Straddling your torso, Taiju yanks you up right by your hair once more and rubs his leaking cockhead against your mouth.

“Open,” he commands, “I’m going to fuck the smart ass right out of this fucking mouth of yours.” His other hand pries your mouth open just enough for him to sheath his thick length down your throat till you gag. You look pitiful with your mouth stretched wide, drool seeping from the corners of your lips and his balls smacking your chin as tears fall down your cheeks. Your hands grip his thighs for support, your nails digging into his muscle so hard you could draw blood.

“Such a good little cock slut. You think you’ve learned your lesson?” he asks, roughly pulling out of your mouth allowing you breath, spit falling from your lips as you gasp for air.

“Go to hell,” you spit. With nothing but a growl as his response Taiju quickly flips you over till you are holding onto the back of the couch. Pulling your work skirt up over your hips, Taiju’s strong hand comes down on your bare asscheek with a hard smack!

Pulling your panties to the side he stuffs his throbbing cock into your pussy and begins to pound into you with as much force as he can muster. Every harsh pump, an expression of his anger.

“Filthy little cunt already soaking wet for me. You like it when I’m rough with you, huh? Like talking back to me, knowing I’ll fuck the brat right out of you?” His taunts hiss between his gritted teeth, his hand spanking your ass over and over again till you cry out.

“Fuck!” you cry, your head hanging down before he pulls it back up till you’re looking at yourself in the reflection of the dark window, his mouth right next to your ear.

“Look at yourself as you take my cock—Shit!” he yells, standing back, one hand in your hair and the other pulling your hips back to him as he watches your greedy pussy swallow his thick length.

“Yes, Taiju! Fuck me like you mean it,” you moan, he laughs at your meager attempts at remaining mad at him but the truth is you love him and you love this. He makes your body feel on fire, the way he uses his strength against you is more powerful than any drug you can find.

“Always trying to act all big and bad but you’re nothing but putty in my hand—or should I say on my cock.” His voice is condescending and annoying but all that goes out the window when he releases your hip to scratch at your neglected clitoris, shooting you over the edge. Incoherent wails and words fall from your lips as he continues to piston his cock in your exhausted cunt and you can hear that your fiance isn’t far behind.

“Fuck, Baby, you’re squeezing my cock so tight,” he groans, releasing you entirely to pull your hips back with both hands, his pumps becoming stuttered and impatient for his end. “You want my cum, Baby? Want me to fill you nice and full?”

“Yes. Yes!” you cry, a second high drawing near. Reaching between your legs you rub your clitoris with quick circles as Taiju finally erupts within you, his hip still using you to milk every drop from his balls taking you over the edge with him one last time.

The two of you are hunched over the couch, heaving for breath, collecting yourselves from your heated joining. Your dazed thoughts are brought back when you feel Taiju’s lips pressing against your bare shoulder.

“I love you,” he grumbles in a low voice, much softer than he was moments before, “I’m sorry.” His apology is sincere, looking over your shoulder you give him a smile.

“I’m sorry too.” Pulling out of you, you were about to go to the bathroom to clean up but Tiaju throws you over his shoulder and heads towards the stairs. “Tai!”

“Sorry, Sweetheart but I still have some anger left to get out.”

I hope you enjoyed it!

Feedback & interaction is alway appreciated!

💛 ~

~ Masterlist ~

Let me know if you want to be part of my tag list [HERE]

[includedisco]

Title: Drunk On Love

Characters: Fadel, Style

Pairing: FadelStyle

Fandom: The Heart Killers

Tags: Plot-less Fluff, Boys in love, Established Relationship, Post canon, short one shot

warnings: none

Word Count: 1,277

SUMMARY: A night out ends with Fadel and Style tipsy, stumbling home, some off-key singing, and a visit from Style's dad wherein he offers some…candid advice. Amidst the chaos, tender moments shine through

-

Fadel and Style stumble into Style's house, both unsteady on their feet after a night out having drinks together. Fadel holds onto Style firmly, one arm around his slim waist. Style is drunker of the two of them, which is a surprise for Fadel. He recalls the time Style came to his restaurant in the past and downed several mugs of beer without getting drunk.

Style has assured Fadel that his dad isn’t home tonight, which is why Fadel isn’t shushing Style's loud, drunken singing right now.

In the entryway, Fadel struggles to take off both their shoes, a challenging task as Style keeps almost falling over. They manage to walk through the house without falling, Style giggling, kissing Fadel's cheek every chance he gets and doing some rather loud singing in between.

They finally make it to Style's bedroom, where they stumbled onto the bed. Fadel lands on top of Style with a groan, while Style giggles. Fadel slowly gets off Style and lies beside him on his back. They turn their heads to look at each other and smile.

“You’re very heavy to lag around.” Fadel points out.

You’re the one that just fell on top of me and almost crushed my ribcage.” Style counters. It’s a wild exaggeration but he wants to be petty.

After a short breather, Fadel sits up to take off Style's shoes and socks.

“I’m thirsty. Water.” Style demands

“Okay, okay.” Fadel kisses his forehead and steps out to find the kitchen. After a few wrong turns, he found it and gets a bottle of water from the fridge. Returning to the bedroom, he finds Style on his feet, looking a bit disoriented and undressing on gangly feet. He’s just taking off the last article of clothing and then he stands stark naked in front of Fadel.

Fadel freezes, utterly taken aback. "Why are you naked?" he asks, walking over to Style.

“It’s hot.” Style grumbles. “And I’m hot too.” He adds smugly with a cocky little smile. “We should…” he stops awkwardly, leaving the sentence hanging.

Fadel lifts an eyebrow, fighting back a smile, “Yes?” he encourages

Style blinks his eyes sluggishly, biting his lower lip in thought. He appears to organize his thoughts, and then, with a flirtatious glint in his eyes and a naughty smile on his face, he said, “It’s awkward that I’m the only one that’s naked. Get naked too, Fadel.”

Fadel hands Style the bottle of water instead after twisting the lid open for him. Style takes one sip and recoils, complaining that the water is too cold. “I expected room temperature water is a glass.”

Rolling his eyes, Fadel takes the bottle from Style and puts it down on the floor. 

Fadel gently holds Style by the waist and guides him towards the bathroom. "Let's take a shower," he suggests.

After getting Style into the shower, a knock sounds at the bedroom door. Fadel starts, not expecting anyone to be home since Style assured him his dad isn't there. Turning to Style, he asks, "Who could that be?"

Style shrugs, clueless, and offhandedly replies, "Maybe it's my dad."

Fadel gives his boyfriend a ‘what the hell’ look and ruffles his own hair in frustration. "Stay here," he orders Style, walking out of the bathroom. He winces as Style starts singing loudly again—a song that sounds vaguely familiar but unrecognizable in his drunken state. Fadel almost laughs.

Opening the door, he finds Style's dad standing there. Quickly rearranging himself into a respectful posture, he greet the man, who returns the greeting with a polite nod. Style's dad smiles slightly, peering past Fadel as he asks, "Is everything okay in there?"

Fadel hesitates, a bit embarrassed. “Style and I were out drinking and…” he trails off, not knowing what else to say.

"Ah," he murmurs, nodding slowly in understanding, as the realization settles in then he grins, “My boy is drunk?”

Fadel nods, “He’s in the shower. Sorry for the noise. He told me you wouldn’t be home.”

“I just got here.”

“We’ll do our best to be quiet.”

“It’s okay. Is everything okay though? Do you need help? I know Style can be a handful when he’s drunk.” The man chuckles

“I can manage.”

Style’s dad pats Fadel on the shoulder, “I’m glad he finally has a capable person to take care of him.” As if like an afterthought, the man adds, “Also, it’s better you than me. He can be such a big baby sometimes. Anyway, don’t forget to use condoms. Things happen when people are drunk. Stay hydrated and try to get some sleep as well. You'll need energy for work tomorrow. See you in the morning.” With that, Style’s dad walks away down the corridor, whistling softly.

Fadel closes the door slowly, mortified as fuck. He knows Style’s dad means well, but damn the man can really cause Fadel embarrassment each time they converse.

*****

Leaning back against the shower wall, still singing out of range of the spray, Style sees Fadel walk in and smiles lovingly at him. "Hi," he greets.

Fadel's heart warms, and he can't help but mirror Style's tender smile. "Your dad is home,"

Style presses a forefinger to his lips to shush Fadel. "We'll be quiet then," he whispers.

“He also said we should use condoms.”

“Do I have to move out of this house to live on my own so I can be allowed some sex without a condom?” Style grouses.

Fadel smiles at that, “Same rules apply at my house, so…”

Style snorts, “And I thought I was bringing you to the wild side.”

 Beckoning Fadel over with a curling finger, Style watches as Fadel take off his clothes and join him in the shower. Style resumes singing, softly this time as Fadel steps in and takes Style into his arms, pressing their naked bodies close as the warm water cascades down his back. He gently nuzzles Style's shoulder, feeling the warmth of Style's arms as they wrap around his neck.

They stand there in each other's arms, swaying gently as Style continues his singing, his voice even softer this time. Fadel smiles to himself, amused and touched. Suddenly, the singing stops, and Fadel hears sniffing. Concerned, he pulls back slightly to look at Style and finds him crying.

"Hey, what's wrong, baby?" he asks softly, lifting his hands from either side of Style's waist to cup his face and search his eyes.

Style shakes his head and tries to lower his gaze, but Fadel doesn't let him.

"I love you so much." Style murmurs

Fadel frowns at first, puzzled, then smiles gently. "Is that why you're crying?"

"What? No.’ Style frowns like it’s a preposterous question to ask, “I have such a beautiful voice. Doesn't it make you wanna cry?"

Fadel stares, stunned and speechless. In all honesty, he doesn't know why he still gets surprised anymore. Style is a riot, and drunk Style even more so with all his nonsense. But Fadel can’t resist playing and flirting with his boyfriend a bit. "Your voice is very nice. You sound like Chris Brown."

Style beams. "Really? I always knew I was gifted." He pouts then, his smile slipping a bit. "It's just that I'm better with my hands, and Dad needed my help in the garage, so I became a mechanic instead."

Fadel kisses Style's forehead. "You're an amazing son. I'm proud of you for helping your dad out. Also, you make a really pretty mechanic." Fadel's hands slide back to Style's slim waist, kneading it gently and reverently as he slowly, lingeringly kisses Style on the lips. “I love you too.”

-END-

Thank you for reading ❤️

If you liked this story, please visit my Ao3 for more.

[pep-the-artemis]

Is CYN Autistic and is She Good Representation?

Murder Drones ⟨00⟩ is an indie show about robots; created by Glitch Productions ⟨01⟩; directed by Liam Vickers ⟨02⟩: all episodes are free to watch on YouTube and I do recommend watching. The show follows a robot girl named Uzi and her best friend N; CYN (the subject of this post) is N’s adoptive younger sister. Many people in the Murder Drones fandom (including myself) have identified her as being autistic but is this the case and is she a good representation? 

In this post I will try to go over all the evidence we have which suggests she is/isn’t autistic and discuss what it means to be a good representation. I have split this post into three parts,

Is CYN Autistic (Minor Spoiler warning)

Is CYN Autistic (Major Spoiler warning)

What is Good Representation and does CYN qualify?

If you enjoy reading this, consider reblogging and checking out my other post where I go into the science behind "if N is colour blind?⟨3⟩”. I must forewarn, I am not a medical doctor nor am I qualified in any adjacent fields relating to disabilities, I am just an autistic person who enjoys film theory.

All references used are linked too and also supplied at the bottom.

[image transcript; a picture of the character CYN from Murder Drones Episode 5 sitting behind a bar counter holding a ceramic teacup]

The first point I want to make is to address the possible concerns over CYN being a Worker Drone (the name given to one type of robot in Murder Drones) as, in media, autistic people are often negatively represented through machines. This is not the case here, in the show most characters are robots and behave neurotypically; the behaviours and mannerisms of CYN will expressly be discussed in comparison to the rest of the cast. This will also be discussed more in greater detail later in the post.

Part 1 - Evidence : Minor Spoiler Warning

Posture

The manner in which CYN stands gives us multiple strong indications that she is neurotypical. Contrary to common belief, autism both affects a person mentally and physically with a strong overlap between the two⟨04⟩. 

[image transcript; a picture of the character CYN from Murder Drones Episode 5 standing looking upwards towards the camera smiling with a crooked posture]

Going from top to bottom, the notable traits are;

CYN is very short, being estimated to be ~100cm or ~3'4''. For comparison, most Worker Drones are around 132cm or 4'4''. This is likely due to her being a child but there have been studies which have found that Autistic people are generally taller than their neurotypical counterparts⟨05⟩.

CYN holds her head at a tilt which is an common autism stim⟨06⟩. We also see that she often uses her hand to adjust her head or to hold it in support, leading to the conclusion that she has hypotonia (weak “muscles”) which is characterised by symptoms like difficulty holding the head up, difficulties with sitting up⟨07⟩, and poor posture; all identified in CYN. The source just provided focuses mainly on infants but I did manage to find a case study of a ten year old written by Mark Hutten⟨08⟩. I also found an interesting study saying head tilting can assist in helping an autistic person with facial recognition⟨09⟩.

CYNs elbows are constantly bent over a 90 degree angle pulling her arms towards her chest. This is known as “T-Rex Arms” in the autistic community and is usually believed to be a form of stimming⟨10⟩. 

When not being used, CYNs hands are constantly limp. This is a commonly seen extension to the “T-Rex Arms”. I was unable to find a scholarly article but I did find a discussion point by the online influencer Autistic Emmalyn⟨11⟩.

CYN leans towards her left leg and her right leg is distinctly more bent, this is common in autistic people caused by what's known as “Leg length discrepancy”⟨12⟩. Note, I've found contradictory evidence for what causes “Leg length discrepancy”; does the posture decrease leg length, does the leg length induce posture, or is differing leg length an illusion. It is also unusual for both legs to be bent so it's hard to say with certainty this is the cause.

CYN points her feet inwards which is known as in-toeing which is a common symptom of autism although only generally present in young children⟨13⟩. In-toeing can be caused by “femoral anteversion”: I found no study directly correlating “Femoral Anteversion” and autism but I did find a study which correlated hypermobility with autism⟨14⟩ and a study which correlated “Femoral Anteversion'' with hypermobility⟨15⟩. Hypermobility has also been shown to be correlated with hypotonia⟨16⟩.

CYN is seen pulling her thighs inwards which is a sign of autism and many autistic people (specifically autistic children) do it to help them find balance⟨13⟩.

Note that there is one scene in which she doesn’t stand in the manner described above, in this scene she is not the focus and she’s very much obscured. I believe at this point this is likely an animation error. I will be discussing this in greater detail later on but cannot currently due to the problem of spoilers.

[image transcript; a picture of the character CYN from Murder Drones Episode 5. The shot is of her standing neurotypically from behind while holding a ceramic teacup]

Walking

The problem with discussing the manner in which CYN walks is that we get limited shots of her walking, particularly unsupported. The best evidence we do have comes from the gala preparations in episode 5 but in that scene the lower parts of her legs are obscured and she is taking aid from N. There are other scenes where we somewhat see her walk but they each come with their own problems.

[image transcript; a picture of CYN (left) walking holding onto her older brother N (right)]

By comparing the number of times CYN and N’s head bob while walking together we get an indication of their respective stride lengths, by watching the scene at 0.25 speed CYN takes ~16 steps and N takes ~9 steps. Since they’re walking in tandem, we can conclude that CYNs stride length is 9/16=~0.5625 times that of N’s. Since stride length and height are directly proportional17, we can take into account their height difference by multiplying by the ratio of their heights (132cm/100cm=1.32) which gives us 1.32*0.5625=0.7425 so even when height is taken into account, CYNs stride length is significantly smaller than N’s and a smaller stride length is a symptom of autism⟨17⟩. This is also backed up in other scenes where we see CYN move and her stride appears very short.

While walking with N, her gait (distance between feet) is neurotypical, in other scenes where we see her walk, without aid, this is not the case so this is a direct example of where we cannot be certain of the information we’re getting from the gala preparation scene. A wider gait length is a sign of autism⟨18⟩.

When looking at the movement of her kneecaps compared to N and the other servants, she has a distinct increased hip flexion which is a symptom of autism which is an action taken to mitigate the effects of autism on mobility⟨18⟩.

Although she has an increased hip flexion, her knee’s do not appear to bend significantly which is another sign of autism along with limited ankle movement⟨18⟩. We only see one shot in the show where we see CYN feet while she’s moving and in that she takes only one small step backwards but it does seem that her ankles don’t bend, I am reluctant to push this as evidence due to how limited the data is.

In the cathedral scene, we see that she seemingly pauses between steps as she walks (this behaviour is not present when walking with N). This is referred to as an increase in the stance phrase which is a sign of autism⟨18⟩.

Oral

CYN (voiced by Allanah Fitzgerald⟨19⟩) has a very distinct manner in which she talks, for those unaware her voice sounds very reminiscent of Siri/Alexa which strongly contrasts most other characters in the show who have fully articulated voices. Without going into details (to avoid spoilers), there is an argument that can be made that her voice is the default for Worker Drones.

[image transcript; a picture of the character CYN from Murder Drones Episode 5 kneeling on a bar counter holding up her head with the back of her hand]

Here is a transcript of a conversation between CYN and N.

N       - *walking in*

CYN - “You seem, upset—big brother—N. Perhaps you'd like to attend the gala with me?—light sip”

N        -  “Ahh, not sure we’re invited, little buddy. Why not just hang with me?”

CYN - “climbing, criss cross applesauce—am I—not wanted, N?”

N        - “aww dude, you know its her parents… ahh, don’t give me those eyes”

CYN - “giggle, I am so naughty.”

certain parts of N’s lines being altered to avoid spoilers (CYNs lines have been left virtually unchanged).

The most obvious part of her language is her rigid voice, it is very monotone. This is not hard to correlate to Autism as ‘robotic’ is a common descriptor used to describe one of the ways people who are autistic talk⟨20⟩. I do want to mention that although her voice is robotic, she isn’t emotionless, through her actions it is clear she can feel a wide range of complex emotions including humour and annoyance; it's just she struggles showing it⟨23⟩.

CYN also uses phrases when performing certain actions such as “criss cross applesauce” when she is sitting down; this is a sign of Echolalia⟨20⟩ which is very common for autistic people⟨20⟩. Her phrase “you’d like to attend the gala with me” also gives the implications of delayed Echolalia⟨21⟩. Note, certain things she vocalises like “giggle” and “annoyed expression” aren’t Echolalia.

CYN does not show any sins of having narrow interests which is usually a common  symptom of Autism⟨20⟩. This may be a result of her limited screen presence as we don’t get significant indications of any of her interests.

Since we don’t see CYN through multiple stages of her life, it is difficult to determine if her language skills have developed unevenly⟨20⟩. She does mix childish and formal language together as she talks which can be interpreted as implying uneven language skills. I think the explanation of Echolalia fits better.

[image transcript; a close up picture of the character CYN from Murder Drones Episode 5 kneeling on a bar counter holding out her hands making an excited expression with her tongue out] (author note, do not question why she has a tongue)

Her face, although much less emotive, isn’t devoid of emotion; she can somewhat show emotions like fear and can be very expressive but only in a rigid and forced manner although her face is usually unexpressive. She also sometimes she visually shows the wrong emotions like with the picture above she is excited but here eyes are showing the scared emotion. All these is very stereotypical of autistic people and defies the common stereotype⟨22⟩.

Now we have come to the end of part 1, which is sad ): . Please consider reblogging, this took a lot of time and research to put together and I'm sure there's still mistakes and inaccuracies. So what conclusions can we draw from this information… not much since a lot of important information has been left out since they cannot be discussed without major spoilers for the show. Thank you for reading.

References

⟨0⟩Liam Vickers | Murder Drones Episodes

⟨1⟩Luke and Kevin Lerdwichagul | Glitch Productions

⟨2⟩Liam Vickers | Liam Vickers Productions

⟨3⟩pep-the-artemis | Is N ColourBlind?

⟨4⟩I lost the intended link | so here’s a cat

⟨5⟩Interactive Autism Network | Relationship Between Autism and Height

⟨6⟩Carmen B. Pingree | Signs of Autism

⟨7⟩Medical News Today | Hypotonia

⟨8⟩Mark Hutton | Hypotonia Case Study

⟨9⟩NeuroScience News | Head Tilt Social Engagement

⟨10⟩Cross River Therapy | T-Rex Arms in Autism

⟨11⟩Autistic Emmalyn | Autistic Arms

⟨12⟩YAI | Posture and Gait of Autistic Individuals

⟨13⟩NHS | In-Toeing

⟨14⟩National Library of Medicine | The Relationship Between Generalised Joint Hypermobility and Autism Spectrum Disorder in Adults: A Large, Cross-Sectional, Case Control Comparison

⟨15⟩National Library of Medicine | Is there a correlation between the femoral anteversion angle and the elasticity of the hip muscles in cases of intoeing gait due to increased femoral anteversion angle?

⟨16⟩The Royal Childrens Hospital Melbourne | Low muscle tone

⟨17⟩Scientific America | Stepping Science: Estimating Someone's Height from Their Walk

⟨18⟩National Library of Medicine | Gait deviations in children with autism spectrum disorders: a review

⟨19⟩Allanah Fitzgerald | FitzyVA

⟨20⟩National Institute of Hearing | Autism Spectrum Disorder: Communication Problems in Children 

⟨21⟩The Autism Therapy Group | Echolalia in Autism: What It Is and How To Treat It

⟨22⟩app2vox | Understanding autism and emotions

[in2u-4asec]

A first for me doing this 🙃

frustrated with all the lies and bs of everyone ☠️

that new york times article is not a coincidence. Nor is the timing of the documentary in cinemas shown in many places in the world. They are clearly making a campaign for the grammys for their golden boy.

and this made me laugh because we know that they will go to hell first than admit that their idol is favored by bsh and his solo career was orchestrated by sb. with all the label’s resources backing him up, how can he not achieve success?

Sacrifice? All the other members sacrificed their solo careers too given their military service 💁 these people doesn’t understand or most likely disregarding everything that had jk got a nomination or grammy win last year, he would not be at the military right now and would be on constant tours around the world.

and the other members solo career and their brand? All up in the air. These discussions are always met with scathing replies and abuse because many doesn’t want to admit that their OT7 or nothing bs is just like that, a big BS.

when jimin got that bb hot 100 #1, it was said that it would put the bts brand at stake so they had to counter measure it by making jk be another one to have it. If that is their logic, then what happened to the other members? Why weren’t they given the same support as jk to even out the playing field for all of them?

many will die first than admit that jk’s solo career has been in the works for years. they have been positioning him to be the breakout star in the band. Will it be jk and his fellow bts members as his back up dancers in the future? Fans are all convinced that the members are all ok with this, as if they don’t care about their own solo careers. Then care to explain the difference in promotion with Namjoon’s indigo and rpwp? He clearly negotiated with hybe for that promotion. And i will reiterate it again and again, the fandom has been failing NJ since the beginning and they are taking their anger out on jimin and his fans. Jhope’s difference in promotion with his first and second album is also noticeable.

i want to see how hobi and jin will promote their works since time is on their side. But will hybe be using their resources for them like they did with jk? The answer is as clear as no. With hybe’s financial situation right now, they can’t afford to do so. Or the better answer is, would bsh do it because he wants to? Hell, no.

i actually am glad that jin made friends with coldplay. They could and probably would help him to get more audience. Let’s see how it will play out for him.

Can’t wait for BTS to comeback. It will be interesting to see if it will be as like before or not. the army fandom? Nah. They are the maknae’s fandom, not already but they have been since the beginning they just don’t want to admit it hence they keep on gaslighting themselves 😂 I’ve mentioned before during the start of their solo career that each member should have their own fans and nobody listened because of the ot7 bs and solos are losers and they are not army. Well, look at it now. Who is the one with a thriving solo fandom that is putting in the works for their artist even if the odds are againts them? You know the answer.

[lover-of-mine]

I’m curious for a GG or LW update after that article this morning because I’m curious what the BT fandom reaction to it was.

Because sure it was about their ship but it literally wrote down and drew attention to him being racist and that they never addressed it.

It brought up every single point that’s been made as to why their relationship isn’t working and won’t work

Like honestly if anything I’d be more easily convinced it was a hit piece against that relationship than a genuine attempt with just how much of a negative light it drew into BT lol.

And if I was them I’d be spiraling over it.

Okay so, I've been talking to lw all day and basically they are ignoring the article because the article is bad because it highlights all the issues with the ship and it calls Tommy racist, they like to pretend he was only homophobic so they can hide behind the "he was closeted he wasn't being homophobic" excuse, then the Oliver interview dropped and they feel like Oliver is making a dig at them because he didn't spend the whole article talking about how great Tommy is and about how bt is true love so he Sucks ™️ and the article sucks, then the Hawaii rumor came out and the decided to switch their efforts to "what if the pilot is bt in their honeymoon" and are now back to dreaming of a spinoff. Also trying to find new dirt on Ryan to counter the mass of tweets from Lou people brought back yesterday. They keep going back to Ryan is a Trump supporter with no proof. They've been having a day. It's dark there.

[idabbleincrazy]

Watch Me

Fandom: Superman 2025/Smallville fusion

Rating: T

Pairing: Clex

Word Count: 2089

Warnings: canon divergent au, established relationship, banter, innuendo, product reporter Clark Kent, fluff

Summary: He knew this would happen.

A/N: inspired by this ad for Omega Watches. @leatafandom is to partly blame for the peaches.

Clark let out a sigh as the door to the cabin opened and he heard familiar footsteps approaching. Looking back down at the stack of newspapers he'd brought with him, he grabbed one from the top of the pile and shook it open as he waited for the other man to reach him.

“Let me guess, LoJack in the Aston? I thought you promised to work on your obsessive need to keep tabs on me.”

“Perry said you left in a hurry, mumbling something about taking a few days off.” Lex stopped a few feet from where Clark sat at the table, leaning back against the kitchen counter behind him. His face was cool and controlled as usual, betraying nothing. “Since this was news to me, I felt justified in looking into why my husband suddenly fled Metropolis on a whim. I was worried.”

Clark shot him a glare over the edge of his paper, not believing a word of it.

“Right. It had nothing to do with the fact that I told Perry I was taking the time off to work on the ad campaign and article for the new summer line of a certain watch company you just so happen to be quite fond of? Nothing to do with the fact that said company gave me that?”

Lex glanced over at the briefcase the younger man had gestured at, shrugging with a nonchalant twitch of his lips.

“Why, Clark, surely I would never go to such devious lengths over a few watch samples. I'm hurt.” Lex pulled out his cigarette case, removing one with a subtle flourish before snapping the case shut and putting it back in pocket. Clark rolled his eyes, holding back a scoff; Lex only smoked when he was losing his grip on his iron will over his more snobbish, ‘I get what I want’, tendencies. “But, I was surprised you chose the green Aston, by the way. Thought you much preferred the red?”

“I prefer the red Ferrari, Lex. You know I've never actually driven any of the Astons. I'm not the aspiring Bond in this relationship. And don't change the subject.”

The golden band on his finger glinting in the muted rays flitting in from the windows, Lex lit the cigarette with a smooth flick of his sterling Zippo, taking a long drag of the hand rolled tobacco and exhaling the smoke in Clark's direction. Oh yeah, it was really eating at him.

“Please, Clark, you know if I wanted early acquisition of any watch, from any company, all it would take is a phone call. Why would I need to track you down to your little hidey hole for that?”

“They told you no, didn't they?”

Lex scoffed in derision.

“No one is foolish enough to tell me no, Clark. They all know you're the only one who gets away with it.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say, Lex. Now, if you would please let me get back to my research?”

Clark knew better than to hope that Lex would let it drop. He kept one eye on the older man as he scanned through the ad section of the paper he was holding, looking for inspiration to strike. Even all the way out in a cabin he'd bought for just these kinds of assignments, hidden away on the outskirts of Smallville, just before the line between it and Granville, he was never alone. He only ever came here for the really high-end, really daunting, product reviews. And Lex always showed up at some point, weaseling for a sneak peek at whatever new gadget or bit of fashion Clark had just gained access to. It wasn't like it was much of a hunt, Lex had been here with Clark to finalize the purchase of the land.

“Just…tell me why the green one?”

Clark heaved a beleaguered sigh and set the finished paper aside.

“I guess I was just hoping it would blend in with the greenery better. This one is really important, Lex. If I come up with something good enough, I could be looking at a promotion.”

“Aww, am I distracting you, darling?” The sarcasm was practically dripping. “I wouldn't want to hinder that brilliant super-mind of yours.”

Clark growled softly under his breath, knowing Lex was prepared to keep up this back-n-forth until he got what he wanted. Standing up from the table, he stalked over to the counter. Pressing against his husband, he plucked the half-smoked cigarette from Lex's fingers and crushed it out in the sink before caging the slighter man against the marble.

“If you hadn’t shown up mere minutes after I did, I would have already scanned through the pile. I’m only working at human speed for your sake, Lex. Otherwise, I’d have to deal with your complaints after that I wasn’t listening.”

“Not my fault you can’t modulate your hearing while at superspeed.” Lex tried to look defiant while Clark loomed over him, but Clark could hear the slight quiver in his voice, and the way his heart rate elevated. Lex’s gaze flicked over toward the briefcase again. “C’mon, Clark, we both know how this is going to end.”

“Yeah, I do know. It’s going to end with me writing my piece and drafting the ad specs while you go find some way to amuse yourself for five minutes.” Clark pressed Lex back further so that he was towering over him. “You are going to give me peace and quiet while I do my job, you are not going to keep pestering me about the summer line, and you are not going to see them until they are released to the public.”

Lex grumbled under his breath but relented as Clark stared him down. Taking his chances on Lex’s silence, Clark pulled away and walked back over to the table. Sitting back down, he kept half his attention on Lex as he straightened back up, a disbelieving chuckle leaving his lips.

Minutes ticked by, Clark making his way through the stack of papers as he continued to hope Lex would wander off to the rest of the cabin so that he could speed through the rest of it. Lex was becoming increasingly more fidgety, something that only happened when he was revving himself up for something daring. Clark spared him a sharp glare over the paper he was currently reading through.

“You won’t.”

“Oh yeah?” Lex scratched at his cheek, eyes flicking between Clark and the briefcase. Clark caught the glint of mischief as they slid back over to him. “Watch me.”

Clark chuckled to himself as Lex darted forward and snatched up the case, giving the man a five second head start before chasing him through the cabin and out into the yard. This was always going to happen, from the second Clark stuck the keys in the ignition and drove the Aston Martin out of the garage. He knew Lex would be alerted, just as he knew that Lex would then cancel any meetings for the day and race after him, finding out particulars as he drove out of the city.

Lex always followed him out here, ever since the first time Clark had used the cabin as a short getaway from his dual lives in Metropolis. It was the only time either of them got to take a real break. Mercy kept an eye on LuthorCorp and made sure no one disturbed her boss with unimportant calls. Clark took a few days off from the Planet to ‘work’, and Superman's patrols were covered by other heroes until his return. The break from their high pressure lives allowed them to breathe, relax, and reset. It also did wonders for their relationship.

The first time Lex had come out here, he and Clark were still only dating, Clark hadn't even moved into the penthouse yet. They had spent more time together in those three days than they had in the previous three months. Less than forty-eight hours after returning to the city, they were engaged. Nine months later, they held the private ceremony in the orchard, surrounded by the fruit trees in full bloom. Clark suspects it had a lot to do with the peaches.

Oh, Clark knew that Lex really did have a burning curiosity about the watches locked away inside the briefcase he'd absconded with. But it was secondary to the real reason they came out here. To why Lex was leading him further out onto the property, towards the orchard.

“Lex, you know I can catch you whenever I want.”

“Then why don't you? All that speed, and I'm still holding your precious samples.” Lex ran as he taunted, changing direction as he reached the tree line. “Come and get me, Clark.”

Clark stayed at human speed until Lex got past the citrus section, kicking it into high gear once the peaches came into view. With a burst of speed, he tackled Lex to the ground just beneath a particular peach tree, wrapping enough of himself around his husband to keep both him and the briefcase protected from impact.

“Gotcha.”

Lex looked up at him, looking just as young as he had ten years ago, smiling that smile that only Clark ever got the privilege of seeing. He let the briefcase fall from his tight grip to rest on the soft grass beside them, pulling Clark's head down for a deep kiss.

“Damn, foiled again”, Lex panted against Clark's lips. “Guess I need to work on my cardio.”

Clark let out a laugh, a real, carefree laugh, the likes of which were scarcely heard in the city. Untangling them, he stood up, pulling Lex up with him. Lex brushed himself off and looked around at the trees.

“Peaches look just right, this time, Clark. Come on, do it. For me?”

“How old are you again?”

“Please? Last time the trees weren't even fruited. Do it.”

“Alright! Enough with the peer pressure.”

Clark leaned for a quick peck on Lex’s cheek before darting off through the surrounding trees. Seconds later, he was back, treasures in hand.

Lex leaned back against the trunk of the tree, a playful smirk on his lips.

“That's right, now give me the show I paid for.”

Clark rolled his eyes and hefted three peaches in his hands, tossing one up and catching it deftly.

“You know, Clark”, Lex drawled as he watched the brunette begin to juggle the handfuls of ripe fruit, “this moment, all those years ago, was when I knew. Oh, I already knew I loved you, but this…was when I knew I was going to marry you. Seeing you so carefree, juggling peaches like you didn't care how silly it looked…I knew I needed to make you mine, needed to be yours.”

Clark beamed a smile at Lex, quick reflexes allowing him to catch the peach Lex tossed at him and add it into the rotation without falter.

“All that power, responsibility, and you didn't let it kill the child inside. I needed that in my life forever. Didn't hurt that you looked weirdly hot, too. Took me months to look at a peach without getting hard.”

“Me juggling turns you on, Lex?”

“Well, why wouldn't it? You're a very arousing man, Clark. Watching you, I can't help but think ‘God, I'd like to juggle his peach right now’.”

Clark barked out a loud laugh, letting all but one peach tumble to the ground. With the single fruit he still had, he stalked up to Lex, offering the ripe peach for tasting.

“Is that what the kids are calling it now?” Clark watched rapturously as Lex bit into the flesh of the peach, leaning in to lick up the small dribble of juice that made its way down his chin. “As I recall, there was quite a bit more being juggled than just fruit that night. Right in this very spot, too.”

Lex swallowed his sweet mouthful and plucked the peach from Clark's hand. Lifting it to Clark's lips, he let the brunette take his own bite before tossing it to the ground.

“Wanna recreate that part of the night as well?”

“How about we make some new memories for ten years from now?”

“As long as I still get to see your samples.”

Clark chuckled as he laid Lex back down on the grass, images of Lex wearing nothing but one of the new watches filling his head. Wonder if Perry would accept that as an ad campaign. Worked wonders for Calvin Klein.

~~~~~

[klbwriting]

Who Am I Really?

Chapter 5

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: the smallest amount of smut

Summary: Arthur is worried about Orm and the growing number of sightings

Notes: this is a short chapter but I hope you like it! Comments/critiques are apprecaited

Arthur hadn’t heard from Orm in almost six months now, but he was hearing rumblings from some in Atlantis that Orm had been seen. Not only seen but that soldiers had gone to apprehend him and they never returned. This was concerning, both the fact that soldiers were sent without Arthur’s approval, and that Orm hadn’t checked in at all for months. Orm wanted this to work just as much as Arthur did and he never missed a check in, and now he had missed so many that Arthur was considering sending Mera and his mother to look for him. But now, after hearing the rumors, he knew he was going to have to do something, to say something, or else it would spread and rumors like that, the return of the tyrant king, would send people into a tailspin and he couldn’t have that kind of chaos.

“Tell me exactly what you saw,” Arthur said, sitting on the throne. In front of him was a woman, a tourist who had visited a small town on the surface a few months ago. She was who it was assumed was the originator of the ‘Orm is alive’ rumor. He had asked for information, and this was the first person to step forward. She seemed pleased to be there, like she was enjoying the attention. It irked him and he hoped this wasn’t a waste of time.

“Well, I was in this small town, enjoying a drink at their…they call them bars?” she said. Arthur noted some of the confusion on the faces of the guards. He nodded.

“Yes, bars, I know of them,” he said. He waved a hand for her to continue.

“And I noticed a blond man sitting at the counter, drinking. He was alone and I thought he looked familiar, so I approached and greeted him in Atlantian, he stared at me and just left. It wasn’t until I returned home and saw an old article about the former king that I realized who it was,” she explained. She smiled at Arthur. “Was that helpful?” Arthur took a deep breath. It wasn’t much of a sighting, bars had bad lighting, and this guy had clearly run off right away, probably thinking that she was out of her mind.

“Thank you for you information, could you tell me the name of the town?” he asked. She provided the name, and he sent her away before bringing forward the next witness.

“Your highness, we must send out a team to find him, at least see if the rumors are true,” one of his advisors said. He sighed and looked to Mera. She looked helpless. There were enough witness reports to warrant an investigation. He couldn’t ignore this. He nodded.

“Send out a small team, tell them to be discreet, and tell them if they spot him to send word back, do not engage him. We don’t know what he’s thinking, he could attack them or innocent surface dwellers,” Arthur said. Once the advisor left, he put his head in his hands and just preyed Orm had moved on from that place now and was somewhere safe.

At the moment Orm felt very safe. In fact he felt many things. He felt YN’s skin under his fingers, felt her hands running through his hair, felt her lips against his, their bodies pressed together in her bed as they moved together. He groaned as she bit his lip, his hips moving faster to hers as he tried to drive her to say his name, his new favorite sound. She broke the kiss to let out a noise and he could tell she was close. He had found an angle she liked so he moved her leg up higher and pushed deeper inside of her. Her head fell back and he watched her in the moonlight, her face looking so beautiful as she chased that high. She finally called his name and he felt her seize around him, fingers pulling his hair as she climaxed. He groaned and after a few more thrusts he finished as well, gripping her close as he panted.

“You know, doing that every night is starting to make me tired in the morning,” YN said as she headed to the bathroom. Orm chuckled, getting up and putting his underwear. He laid back down, draping an arm over his eyes. He groaned a little as an image came to mind. A red-haired woman, a man with tattoos and long hair, they were holding a baby at the lighthouse. By the time he pulled himself out of the random memory YN was next to him, gently tracing patterns on his chest with her fingers.

“Another memory,” he said, looking at her. “A woman and man, they had a baby at a lighthouse.”

“Was the man you?” she asked. He shook his head but noticed she looked a bit stricken.

“What is it?” he asked, turning more to face her, fingers brushing some hair from her face. She pulled back a little and he frowned.

“What if you have someone?” she asked. “What if you’re married? Or have a family?”

“I don’t,” Orm said. She wasn’t looking at him, eyes focusing on the bed, like she didn’t know exactly how she got there. “That is something I think I would feel, like I was missing something as important as a partner or children." He gently took her face in his hand. “You are the only person I think I’ve ever felt like this for. I love you, and it’s such a new feeling I couldn’t possibly have had it before.”

“Are you sure? I love you too Orm and I don’t want…how do you know that you haven’t had this feeling before?” she asked. He thought about how to explain it.

“I…I sometimes remember things, not images or names or anything, but feelings. Like when we did that beach cleanup, I remember feeling such anger at the trash on the beach, at the people who would just let that happen, and that feeling felt old, like I had felt it for years. But this, laying here with you, seeing you smile, hearing you say my name, just existing in the same place as me, that feeling I have for you, that is completely new,” he said. By the time he was finished YN was leaning into him, hugging him close. She felt so perfect in his arms he could die there happy. He held her until he felt her drift off in his arms.

[wistfulnightingale]

The Chess Moves Theory Set -- Why Chess & Magic? (A Final 15 MetaTheory)

The Final Episode of Good Omens S2 is full of moments that caught our attention. We cried, we rewatched in disbelief, and some of us generated speculation and theories. Yet it remained difficult to find a solid "other" explanation for everything that occurred. Maybe it really was an incredibly painful breakup. The Ineffable Divorce.

Speculation about any one of the key moments, looked at individually, leave gaps and questions and uncertainties. But together, they might propose a different picture. I think it's a piece by piece jigsaw puzzle, or the sequences in a Regency Era dance, or --- A complex game of chess.

Over many months, I've put together a set of 8 scenes/theories, Eight Chess Moves that, together, might prove that what we saw wasn't all there was. Some might seem exciting, some might seem bonkers. Personally, I think there's reasons (or sometimes even proof) for each of them, or I wouldn't propose them to you. I've listed and linked each one below. I hope you'll at least enjoy them!

Now, I'm not a skilled chess player, not at all. But The Metatron is. He's a Chess Master (at manipulation), and Our Ineffables have had to quickly develop their skills, anticipating moves and creating counter moves. Hopefully they are skilled enough to shift the board and win this deadly game.

Like Fell the Marvelous Magician, flicking the envelope after the incriminating photo has been tucked away, magic and Misdirection are also used. Misdirection means that the magician is not "hiding" the trick -- they convince you to start looking for the trick after it's already happened. Magicians Penn and Teller are quoted as saying, "The strongest lie is the lie that the audience tells itself."

This Masterclass article on What Is Misdirection in Magic tells exactly how it's done:

Social Cues -- Look where they look, not where we should look

Multitasking/Split Focus -- Distractions

Patter -- Rapid talking & questions (Lookin' at you, Nina!)

Emotional Manipulation -- Yeah, that Crowley moment with Nina

Time Misdirection -- It already happens before we know to look

Convincers -- Someone validates that everything's normal

Repetition -- We get used to seeing something, and don't question it anymore

I'll be refering to most of these in the theory breakdowns, since they're a huge part of how a lot of this managed to sneak under our radar.

The Eight Chess Moves Theory Set:

1 - The Metatron Misdirection

2 - The Metatron's Second Coming

3 - Ineffables in Check

4 - A Hefty Jigger of Death

5 - Nothing Lasts Forever

6 - The Circle Kiss Theory

7 - The Nightingale DID Sing

8 - Aziraphale's Jubilant Smile (NOT the crazy elevator grin)

Also: The Metatron Misdirection New Note (Is it a Shell Game of White-Haired Men?)

(Please go to @wistfulnightingale for my pinned post if these aren't linked up here! My Apologies! I've been scurrying to get it all linked)

No single chess move on the board wins a match. It is the series of moves, each decision, each part of the strategy, that leads to the victory. For nearly a year and a half, the fandom has been analyzing various scenes that raised questions in our minds. We get closest to figuring it out, I believe, if we look at all those mysterious moments together. None of my theories is convincing if it stands alone. However, as a SET, each leading to the next, they might make a more compelling case for the moves and countermoves that were happening in S2.

The opening credits sequence has a lot of clues about Magic in it (like rabbits Everywhere!!), letting us know that Magic is gonna be important in S2, as detailed in @sendarya 's YouTube video:

Good Omens Title Sequence, EASTER EGGS and hidden clues uncovered!

Interestingly, I think we've actually also been told to look for a chess metaphor, just as we were given clues to look for Magic Tricks. There are chess pieces and a chess board visible behind Crowley (next to the fateful grandfather clock!) in much of the end of E6. And earlier, in E3 when Jimbriel is swatting at the fly and demonstrating gravity, we are given a very clear shot of the book "My Best Games of Chess."

That same book is also featured several times in the 1946 Powell and Pressburger movie "Stairway to Heaven," as @sendarya noticed. (The multiple connections of chess and "Stairway to Heaaven" with S2 is wonderfully explained in another YouTube video by @sendarya ,

Good Omens Love or Law, which is stronger?

I highly recommend checking it out!) The movie poster on the left for "Stairway to Heaven" is seen twice in Good Omens S2, in the opening credit sequence (seen below) and in Maggie's record shop.

The poster on the right also shows the movie's U.K. release name, "A Matter of Life and Death." As fun and fluffy as Good Omens S2 began, the reference to this other title becomes too fitting for our Ineffables by the final episode.

The Chess book and the repeated presence of the movie poster certainly seem to mean Something. The video by @sendarya is what inspired me to look at all the mysteriously odd moments of S2 as related parts of a Chess Game, "A Matter of Life and Death" between the Metatron and Our Ineffables. Each moment looked at alone just leads to more questions. Together, they might start to make sense.

I hope you enjoy all of the parts of my Chess Match Theory Set. (I've been neurotically pondering and examining and rewriting this stuff for months!) Hopefully, these ideas are still consistent with Terry Pratchett's ideas for where these two characters who began as one will end up. I'm hopeful that I'm onto something here, but I also hope (tentatively believe?) that the plot they suggest still fits with the Rescued 90, the Finale of our Ineffable Adventures. And, if I'm mistaken, at least it gives us something to talk about in the meantime!

Thanks for coming with me on this crazy ride!

To Our World!

[alarrytale]

hi, marte! you say that louis knows that his fans hate his stunts but he does it anyway so he doesn’t care. but i’ve been thinking maybe his view of the fandom is just really warped like that (remember his team claiming in some article a couple years ago that his main audience is teenagers lol). i don’t believe he’s really across everything like he says he is because who would even have time for that, and he mainly follows solos on twitter so it creates this bubble maybe? and solos looove the stunt just like anything that counters larries.

do you think it’s possible? that he and his team might just be delusional like that?

Hi, anon!

I did say that Louis knows his fans hate his stunts, but i've never said that he does it anyway because he doesn’t care. I always think his stunts are either forced on him, or they have a purpose that justify the means. Like if Mcdomlinson is necessary in order to end bg, or DC was necessary to stop BJ, a stunt that was forced on him.

I do agree that i don't think Louis nor his team knows his fandom all that well, and knows how to manage us in a way that incites the response they want from us. I think it's hard for them though, because there are things that would work, if it hadn't been for the baggage he comes with, his image he needs to uphold and his relationship with his fandom. They're not knowledgeable enough to know when to push and when to pull, and when to use the whip and when to use the carrot. Our fandom is complicated, fractioned into different groups and we all have strong beliefs. It's imperative to understand the fandom they're dealing with, and they just simply don't.

I think we're a hard fandom to influence, to fool and to control. We're loyal to Louis, not Louis Tomlinson tm. We don’t always buy what they're trying to sell us. Louis fandom also exist pretty much parallel to Louis, he doesn't lead the fandom, we run things completely seperately and we decide what we want to support or not. I don't think i've ever seen someone being stanned that has so little influence over his own fandom. Louis says larry isn't real, mock us and gaslight us so hard, meanwhile fandom is busy writing larry fanfic number 44k on AO3, or doing lyric analysis while ignoring Louis' own interpretation of his songs.

Our loyalty at this point is to Louis and to our fandom community, and not Louis Tomlinson tm. We don’t trust Louis for shit, but us fans trust each other and help each other understand the truth and what's going on.

I think in order for Louis to take some control back of his own fandom, and to be able to influence us and get us to do his bidding, he needs to gain our trust back. He's currently doing the opposite of that, so he's losing us again.

[aniron48]

in a space that they belong

My fingers slipped and this happened.

First foray into The Old Guard fandom, over on ao3!

“I was just wondering,” Nicky asks the clerk, “are you sure you don’t have any others of this kind?” His accent is stronger, when he’s nervous—which is anytime he talks to strangers, really—and he winces a little, but the clerk doesn’t seem to notice.

“No, just that one,” the clerk says absently, eyeing the clock over the checkout counter with something that looks like longing. “Feel free to try it out, and if you like it we can order a different size for you.”

And he really wants to try it out, is the thing, because the articles he’s read say you should test a mattress for at least 15 minutes before committing. But there’s already a customer on this bed—a man, effortlessly beautiful in a way Nicky could never dream of being, with the softest black curls Nicky has ever seen, and a beard Nicky wants to feel against the inside of his thighs. And isn’t that an image to have in his head, right as the man opens his eyes to see Nicky standing awkwardly by the side of the bed.

________________________________

Or, oh my god, there was only one mattress.