#I thought to myself ‘how can I make this worse’
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Supercharged | JJK
Chapter 5: Scared of a Little Lightning
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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life.
When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours.
Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?
🗲this chapter: With the threat of Bolt rising, so do tensions within the base.
🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader
🗲word count: 6.3k
🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, supervillains au, found family
🗲rating: pg15
🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, and also with fists, they fight in this one okay, swearing, hella tension and anger issues, arguing, angry Namjoon (yes that is a warning). it's just a tense chapter😅
a/n: oH I am EXCITED for this chapter!!! It's a juicy one if I say so myself😌I am begging you to come chat with me about it, things are heating up!! Be it an ask, comments, tags, hearing from you guys about this series is an absolute joy so far and it's making me giddy posting each week wondering what you guys will think👀thank you so much, that's a great feeling!
I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I did writing it!💜
Whatever Jungkook thought of you staying, you couldn’t care less.
While he glared, you ignored him and instead enjoyed the new additions to your routine. In fact, though you wouldn’t admit it, it gave you a bit of pleasure to know he was gritting his teeth as you continued as part of their lives.
However, he still had his chance to make your life a misery. He had taken to actively antagonising you rather than straight-up ignoring you as he had previously in training.
That was what it felt like, at least, when he was yelling “faster!” into your ear as you fired bolts as rapidly as you could muster. It was never good enough for him.
It only got worse when he took to flinging the targets around your training space with a well-aimed jet of gold. That kind of precision and strength was something you could barely hope to achieve with your powers. Even trying to hit the targets in the air was beyond you, let alone being able to actually throw one, as Jungkook did with such ease.
Though in some ways it was refreshing to have a different training routine, in most other respects it was anything but.
Anyone else could be forgiven for thinking he was simply trying to push you now that you were in line to join their team, but you knew better. The smirks that occupied his face when you failed gave it away. You tried desperately not to give him that satisfaction, but eventually you always lost out to exhaustion, leaving him triumphant.
On the contrary, physical training which you now had to take part in, was welcome relief.
Usually Hoseok was the one training with you, which you were ecstatic about. Of course, he was mainly needed to show you the ropes in the beginning, and once you understood how to use all the gym equipment, you could more or less do it yourself. But he was in there anyway a lot of the time, and you were more than happy with the way he would chat away as you worked out side by side. It felt nice to spend time with someone who actually wanted you there – who would help, or play stupid games with you, or drag you into doing pairs exercises that would never go right, normally ending with you in a hysterical tangle on the floor.
His powers being what they were, however, it was a little discouraging sometimes. You would be red-faced and ready to give up while he still had enough breath in him to gush enthusiastically about the latest band that took his interest, all while doing pull-ups.
But then Yoongi would appear (out of nowhere, as always) and grumble along with you, making fun of his ‘over-active’ brother while Hope laughed loudly.
Spending even more time in the training areas made you feel like this place was really alive. It was completely different to anywhere you had lived before, solely because you weren’t alone.
Jin had taken you directly to your old place the day after you had accepted Namjoon’s offer. It had hardly crossed your mind, so you were surprised to see it as you had left it. Apparently Kuyang had been covering the rent for you.
It must not have been much of a strain for him, you thought, standing in the doorway of your place and thinking of his laboratory in a skyscraper. The two hole-in-the-wall rooms that made up your apartment were a far cry from anywhere in the centre of town. You were almost embarrassed for Jin to follow you in there, but then he was pushing past to drop several empty boxes on the worn carpet and apologising that your new room wouldn’t be so big.
“That’s hardly the same thing,” you snorted, taking the first box through to your bedroom, “have you seen your kitchen?”
Looking over to your sorry excuse for a kitchen, Jin couldn’t argue. He half-grimaced.
“Who really needs an oven in this day and age anyway?” he tried.
Rolling your eyes with a snort, you pulled open your wardrobe and set to packing.
Halfway through, several indistinguishable shouts bled through the ceiling. What startled you was that you almost didn’t notice it, used to it as you had been.
Jin had stopped, and stared at you in alarm, but you just chuckled and told him that was how it was, living on top of other families.
In the end, you didn’t use all of the boxes. You looked around, just in case, for something you would never miss. It hadn’t taken much to empty the place of all trace of you, though you left the fridge well alone, not daring to discover the state of what you had left.
You dropped your keys on the table and left the silence behind.
Back home, there was always sound, activity. During your water breaks or after training, you would see the others training too. It felt like you were all in it together. Even with the knowledge that you could barely compare to the skill the boys had with their respective powers, you reminded yourself that they wanted you on the team.
Well, most of them did.
But you would keep working and improving. You would get there.
Jimin finally returned to training again too, after a few days where he hardly left V’s side. Seeing his boyfriend so hurt had certainly brought out Jimin’s protective side, even more than normal. It was honestly quite endearing – that was until you had passed Jimin in the training room, hurling his weights through the air with such ferocity you were surprised it didn’t dent the walls.
Hurrying past, you had decided to leave him to it. After so long being strong for his boyfriend, he certainly needed that.
The pink glow of his eyes shouldn’t be such an intimidating sight, but you knew you didn’t want to get in the way of him.
With Jimin downstairs, you found V in the living room. He had been steadily recovering, quicker than someone without powers would have done, but still you knew he had been instructed to take it easy.
A quick shower later, you were less out of breath, but still weary from a day of hard work.
Next time you returned, V was in the kitchen. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you didn’t want him to be up for too long. Ignoring your desire to sink into the nearest chair, you walked over.
“Need help with anything?”
V didn’t look around at you, but shook his head as he reached up to a cupboard.
Not wanting to push, you slid into a chair at the counter. You were unable to resist resting your head on one hand, but you fought to keep your eyes open so you could check on V.
Somewhere along the way, you failed at your intention. A new set of footsteps entering the space disturbed you as you had been dozing lightly, but the moment you caught yourself, your eyes were flying open.
With your tired state, you couldn’t even bring yourself to shoot a glare at Jungkook, who was walking up to the counter. You only gathered the energy to avoid his eyes entirely.
Jungkook appeared to have the same idea, walking past without acknowledging you. But as he drew level with V, the older boy turned away and crossed to the counter where you sat.
Lifting your head from your hand, you blinked as V walked right up to you. The next moment, he was pushing a steaming mug of tea right under your nose.
Opening your mouth, your tired brain couldn’t formulate words, but conjured a similar image from when you had made him tea the first time you spoke. You still regretted accidentally setting him off then, unintentionally letting your powers go.
Perhaps you were forgiven?
“Thank you,” you spoke quietly, meeting V’s eyes. You couldn’t decipher his expression, but he was watching you, and smiled lightly when you replied.
As he turned and walked back over to the sofa, your eyes landed on Jungkook, who still stood across from you. For a long moment, he held your gaze with a poker face. Then his eyes fell to the mug cradled between your hands, a frown darting across his expression.
Swallowing, you waited for whatever venomous comment he had prepared for you, to warn you away from V. Even after you had helped treat V’s wound, Jungkook had been opposed to you being near his injured brother.
He turned away without a word.
A crash echoed through the empty rooms.
Staring as the sparks jittered across the surface of the battered target, you dropped your arms to your sides. The training area was deserted aside from you, and you waited until you could no longer hear the crash faintly ricocheting from the walls.
Eyes still trained on the target, you panted, chest heaving.
Though you were training alone today, you could practically hear Jungkook telling you not to give in. Who knew all those insults would become motivational?
Whether it was motivation or the fear of falling behind, it succeeded.
Exhausted as you were from your training, you decided to make the most of your unsupervised session and try one more thing. Locking your trembling arm straight ahead, you took a breath and let your powers fill you up until that familiar blue burst from your palms.
But instead of aiming short bursts at the various different targets positioned around the space, you gritted your teeth and held it, lightning spilling in a continuous blue bolt towards the central target.
You had no idea how to do this, but it had always impressed you when Jungkook could lift things with his powers. All you had been taught to do was shoot. Still, you took a breath when you felt confident that your power was flowing strongly, focussing on the metal disc.
The way the sparks ensnared the target gave you assurance as you slowly raised your arm.
You felt a resistance you had never felt before as the electricity lifted, tugging at the target. It felt that you were connected to it somehow.
Tensing, you focussed intently, loading more power into the bolts already shooting through the air. Maintaining the motion of your arm, you gaped as you saw the circular metal raise along with the blue power dragging it.
You had done it! You were lifting it, it was moving-
Like a switch had been flipped, the flow of power cut off, the bright blue that dominated the space fading. The moment your powers retreated, you found yourself gasping, a wave of fatigue near enough sweeping you away.
Your knees hit the floor as the same time as the target. Wincing at the harsh metal clattering loudly on the floor, you screwed your eyes shut for a moment. Your chest continued to heave, and you noticed the sheen of sweat that had broken onto your forehead.
But once your breathing steadied again, you laughed.
The next moment, you let out a loud whoop, flopping flat onto the floor.
You had managed something new! Laughter continued to shake you as you caught your breath on the floor. Jungkook didn’t have to teach you everything – it seemed you could manage to strive forwards by yourself, even if you weren’t good enough in his eyes.
It took you a while to get up. Not even the thought of Jungkook’s nagging could have motivated you to do another iota of training.
About all you could manage was to drag yourself upstairs for food, but the smile never left your face.
Lunch was a simple sandwich. Already thinking forward to your session in the gym this afternoon, you couldn’t be bothered to make anything more demanding.
You still made two plates, however, leaving the other out for whenever V was hungry. Today the others had gone out, but with him still healing, he couldn’t go with them like normal.
You had heard Jin scolding him to make him stay, though; it seemed he felt well enough already to want to go out again.
This time, you didn’t particularly mind their absence. There was no sense of secrecy, no need to for you to turn on the news while you wondered what they were up to. As the soon-to-be newest addition to the team, you had been present to hear all the details.
Of course, given the way things went last time they returned from a job, there was an undeniable edge of nerves.
But it was an easy mission. That was what they had said, and what you kept reminding yourself.
They were concerned that Bolt had been showing interest in a lab on the western edge of the city, and wanted to protect it. Yoongi and Hope had been watching it for a while Jin and Namjoon did some digging around Bolt, and whatever his intentions may be. The latter seemed to have found frustratingly little, but didn’t let the mystery of Bolt stop them from acting.
The whole group was focussed on keeping the lab safe. Since the developer was one of their allies, they had all the details they needed to be one step ahead if Bolt should attack, which they highly expected.
Although you had kept your mouth shut at the meeting, not wanting to cause problems by irritating Jungkook when the team needed him, you had enjoyed the experience. For once, you didn’t feel particularly out of your depth. Having been Kuyang’s secretary for a while, you were well used to looking at plans such as the one of this lab, which you had pretty much memorised. The fighting and the powers, you were still working on. But at least you could understand the logistical side of their job.
After lunch, you lounged in the empty living space for perhaps a little too long. But with no one around to judge you, you let your tired limbs rest for a bit.
When you eventually made it off the sofa, you passed V in the hall. You noticed the small black receiver clutched in his hand; the boys had decided that keeping him in the loop while they were out on the mission would ease his nerves a bit.
“Any news?” you asked him, nodding at it.
V turned his dark eyes on you, then glanced at the receiver before he sighed.
He shook his head.
You had to admit you shared his disappointment, but you forced a smile to your face nonetheless.
“Well, no news is good news, right?”
Your smile seemed to be for nothing, as his eyes never lifted high enough to look at your face. Instead he gave a noncommittal shrug.
“I, uh, made you a sandwich,” you told him, “make sure to eat, and don’t worry too much, yeah?”
Walking down to the training rooms again, you felt the sadly familiar desire to do more creeping in. You never would have thought that after gaining the ability to shoot lightning, you could ever feel so powerless.
Nothing would happen to them.
You had seen their plan, it was so detailed.
There was no way Bolt would be able to outsmart them.
As you started training, these thoughts revolved around your mind in time with your steps on the treadmill. By the time you were using the machines, gritting your teeth as you pushed the weights with all your might, you weren’t sure if your mantras were helping.
They would come back…
Reaching the peak of a sit-up, you let out a groan.
There were six of them out there, Bolt was outnumbered…
Were you certain? Or were you repeating these thoughts just to convince yourself?
Finishing your set, you slumped back to the floor and stared up at the plain ceiling. This space was tucked in the corner of the gym, and you felt sheltered by the machines that blocked you from view, even though you were alone.
Breathing deeply, you brought a hand up to massage your brow. As you tried to ease the pressure, you closed your eyes.
In the darkness behind your eyelids, a light seemed to bloom. Blue, all too familiar, dancing over a face you had seen just once in the flesh but would never forget. A bright flash had your eyes flying open again, heart hammering as it expected the drop from who knows how many floors up-
Your heavy breathing fell alone in the silence.
Swallowing back the memories of Bolt, you tried to push back the fear that was curling tighter around your stomach at the thought of your friends out there with him.
You had just pushed yourself gently to sit when a sharp clang sounded, along with a muffled yell, making your head whip around to its source.
One positive thing was that you didn’t have to worry about the boys being out any more. But there were new concerns on your mind as you saw Jungkook storming into the gym. A muscle in his jaw popped as he ripped his jacket off forcefully, casting it to the floor as he stalked to one of the machines.
You watched him with wide eyes, stunned by his entrance. He hadn’t seen you yet.
His whole body seemed fraught with tension as he stood, back facing you, eyeing a machine. Fists clenched at his side, his shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing.
Just when you thought he was going to stand still all day, he aimed a harsh kick at the base of the machine, another clang ringing through the space.
That startled you into action, springing to your feet. While you walked between machines back to the centre of the room, he had grasped the bars and started pushing them, grunting as the weights lifted and fell, clashing against the others.
Stopping a few paces away, you stayed silent for a moment. The frustration emanating from him, the intimidating muscles revealed by his vest, all made you wary of him.
Pulling yourself together, you took a breath. Why should you let him scare you?
“Jungkook.”
He froze. His arms were together in front of him, the machine’s weights hovering as he held them there.
With a huff of air, he dropped his head between his shoulders. Slowly, he turned his head towards you slightly.
“What happened?” you asked, refusing to be deterred by his challenging sideye, “is everyone okay?”
Biting at the inside of his cheek, he turned his glare away from you, aiming it instead at the floor. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly, restrained as if he would burst if he didn’t control his tone.
“We fucking lost half the place.”
“But everyone’s back? Then it’s okay-”
Metal clanging loudly together made you jolt, unable to help yourself from taking a step back when Jungkook let the weights drop and strode across the space between you.
“We should have had the upper hand! We did everything we planned, but Bolt still…” his nostrils flared as he took a breath, “we had to blow half of it up, just so he wouldn’t get to it.”
Sighing heavily, he turned away from you, shoving a hand through his hair.
Frowning slightly, you watched the frustrated man. Of course you were glad everyone was safe, but the fact they had lost the lab felt like a blow, even to you.
“How…?” you spoke quietly, but it only seemed to rile him up.
Whirling back to face you, his eyes blazed.
“He’s too strong. We let him get too far already. If you think you’re gonna help us at all out there, you’re wrong.” He stepped slowly towards you as he spat his words, “we can’t do enough against him, you’ll only slow us down.”
He stopped, glaring down at you now you were practically nose to nose. Your own anger bubbled within you – why did he bring you into this? His lashing out at you was uncalled for.
“I’m joining you guys because Namjoon wants my help,” you shot back, “or do you not trust him? I’ll be ready, you don’t have to worry about that.”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, poisonous stare intensifying, but you refused to back away. Scowling, his mouth opened to retort-
“Hey! Y/N?”
Jungkook’s mouth snapped closed, the same moment you turned your back on him to find Jin and Yoongi standing in the doorway.
Stepping into the gym, Jin looked past you to Jungkook, fixing him with a stare.
“Time to back off, Kook.”
At first, you were pleased to have someone else see how irrational Jungkook was acting towards you. But then Jin turned to you.
“I think you ought to go upstairs.”
Giving you a tight smile, Jin moved past you towards Jungkook, leaving you stunned.
“Just let him cool off.”
Slightly jumpy, you looked around to find Yoongi right beside you. Raising an eyebrow, he waited for you to come away.
Sighing, but biting your tongue, you set off. Yoongi fell into step beside you as you left. With one last look back, you saw Jin leaning against the machine where Jungkook had now resumed his rage workout, talking too low for you to hear.
As you emerged into the main training space, Hope was just coming from the stairs. His pace was rapid, but slowed when he saw you, seeming to deflate.
“Everything alright?” he jogged up to you and took a place on your other side.
“I just don’t get what his problem is,” you confessed, irritation bleeding into your words. “He turns everything on me somehow.”
The boys either side of you shared a glance.
“He’s just frustrated, but he’ll come around. This thing with Bolt is a bit more serious than we anticipated,” Yoongi explained.
Taking a moment to process his words, you swallowed back the continuing anger you felt towards Jungkook. You knew why he was upset, it just didn’t make it any easier to take.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you cursed, shaking your head, “is everyone okay? I wasn’t even thinking about all that after Jungkook…”
“Yeah,” Hoseok nodded, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “We’ll figure it out. Just because today didn’t go so well, doesn’t mean we can’t win next time.”
“But how was your training?” Yoongi moved on, “I’m surprised you made it to the gym without Hobi to bully you-”
“Hey!” Hobi exclaimed, “Y/N’s a great student. She’s working hard. You’ll be able to join us soon at this rate.”
He directed this last at you, nudging you with his elbow. But his bright smile no longer struck the same confidence in you. Instead, you felt Jungkook’s words take root inside you.
“I just hope I can be useful…” you muttered.
“You have nothing to worry about.”
It may well have been the first time Hoseok didn’t manage to alleviate you worries, even slightly. When you got upstairs, it was to find Namjoon had disappeared to his office already, Jimin clearly faking a smile for V and near silence as Jin and Jungkook remained downstairs.
Even Hobi, trying to bring your mind away from Jungkook, had a downtrodden slope to his shoulders.
That night, you did nothing but contribute to the despondent quiet in the house.
These men had so much more experience than you did, and yet they were unable to save the lab from Bolt’s clutches. How were you going to help them?
But you knew one thing for sure: you had to.
It was with renewed determination that you headed down to train the next morning.
You arrived a little before Jungkook, depositing a towel and water bottle by the wall as he entered behind you.
“Still here?” he asked dryly, crossing the space to lean against the wall.
Straightening up, you rolled your eyes.
“What does it look like?”
“Looks like you’re naïve enough to think you’re going to be any help.”
Gritting your teeth at his retort, you restrained yourself from insulting him in return.
“Let’s just start training, shall we?” you bit out.
Clearly some of your attitude had bled through, however, because Jungkook pushed off the wall and marched towards you. His dark eyebrows drew together.
“What for?” he spat, “you can barely handle the training room, what makes you think you’ll be any good out there-”
“That’s what training is for,” you countered, unable to help your voice rising.
“I have more important things to focus on than YOU!” his voice raised in return, “you’ll never be ready.”
And with that, he shook his head, starting to walk away from you. For a second, you could only gape in outrage at his back as he stormed away. But he only made it a few paces before you recovered yourself, stepping forwards.
“I am ready!”
Your hands balled at your sides as he froze in place. You remembered the power that ran through them, your success in training yesterday. Jungkook was done underestimating you.
He spun to face you.
“Prove it.”
Not a second after his words, a slice of gold cut through the air, straight towards you.
Ducking out of the way, you whirled around again to find Jungkook advancing towards you, lopsided smirk on his face and gold light whirling in his irises. This time, you reacted when he raised an arm, blue racing to meet his gold in the air and colliding in a shower of sparks.
Feeling the thrum of electricity in your veins, you felt stronger. You stepped forwards, meeting his eyes in challenge. He thought you were too weak? That you would give up?
Jungkook threw his arm to the side, severing the beam of light that connected you, but instantly fired another bolt which you leapt aside from. The next moment, you recoiled, intercepted by a second streak of lightning cutting through your path.
You were driven back into the path of one more blast as it shot through the air, forcing you to fling yourself to the ground as sparks ripped overhead.
“Please,” Jungkook let out a scoff, “I could beat you with my hands behind my back.”
You had already jumped to your feet, lifting your palms.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Blue erupted towards him then, his own trick used against him as two beams of light penned him in, one either side.
Quirking an eyebrow, Jungkook aimed his palm to the ground, to your surprise. The next moment saw him pushing off the ground, boosted by a jet of gold as he vaulted over your attack. Reacting quickly, you shot towards him again as he was still a blur in the air.
Gold blazed to meet it, an explosion of embers as they collided. You felt Jungkook throw the attack off, sending you stumbling as your lightning collided with a resounding clash against a pile of metal targets that were stacked by the wall.
To your satisfaction, though, the clearing sparks revealed the man staggering up from the floor. It seemed you weren’t so incapable as he thought.
“Still think I’m not ready?” you called, laughter lining your voice.
Jungkook said nothing, drawing himself to his full height and looking around.
Gold light streaked towards the side of the room then, sending a shape flying towards you.
You ducked, the target clanging against the wall behind you. But more were already coming your way, Jungkook rapidly firing more gold through the air.
Undeterred, you didn’t hesitate to fire back, knocking the targets from the air with well-aimed blows of your own. The room filled with flashes of light, blue against gold, fuelled by the two of you throwing everything you had.
But your powers began to slip, reluctant to work so quickly. You could feel yourself tiring, and it was a matter of seconds before you missed, too sluggish to catch one target that shot your way.
It caught your arm, hard, pulling you off balance. You stumbled, one knee hitting the floor as you steadied yourself. Instinctively, the other arm covered your head, waiting for more blows.
But nothing came.
Panting hard, you looked around.
Jungkook stood tall opposite you, the epitome of power as strength filled his form and flowed from his fingertips. His eyes shone with an identical light. Two more targets were suspended in the air by sustained gold beams. He kept them hovering there. Taunting you.
“Like I said,” he growled, “not ready. And if I can do this, it means Bolt can.”
Face burning in humiliation, you pushed yourself to stand.
“What are you so scared of?” you spat, “if you’re so powerful, how come you’re afraid of one man?”
“Don’t you dare-” he began, but you cut him off.
“No!” you yelled over him, “you’re the weak one! You just can’t admit you need me out there because you’re scared of a little lightning.”
In the blink of an eye, the targets dropped from the air, clashing deafeningly against the ground as Jungkook chose to charge at you himself. His teeth were bared as he ran forwards, grabbing you and sending the both of you to the floor.
Jungkook was strong, to say the least. You couldn’t escape his weight that pinned you down, no matter if you thrashed.
His face was so close to you, breathing almost as heavily as you. As you met his blazing eyes, you saw the gold glow fading, darkness taking over.
Gritting your teeth, you pushed back at him, letting your power flow from your hands. Using powers had seemingly slipped his mind; he didn’t see your attack coming, and you successfully sent him reeling, your blow of lightning throwing him off you.
But he found his feet at the same time you did, and scrambled towards you again.
A fist flew towards you, and you countered it with a blast of blue.
Instead of retaliating again, he stumbled back. A smirk crept over your face. Something had got to him; you had riled him up.
“Something wrong?” you asked innocently.
Big mistake.
Maybe Jungkook hadn’t been thrown. Maybe he had just been recharging.
Because now he was advancing again, and his fists were surrounded by gold sparks, that same gold glowering from his eyes once more. You could only match his power for so long. You weren’t as fast as him, and every blow you deflected only made way for another to follow the next instant.
Stumbling backwards, away from him, the back of your leg collided with a bench, and you fell back, heart hammering in panic.
You never met the ground. A fist found your shirt and you were being slammed against the wall instead.
Feet flailing, you called on the last embers of your powers to push back, but Jungkook captured your hand with his free one. He pinned it against the wall, where your sparks danced together in an impossible wrestle.
Meanwhile, his other hand which forced you against the wall didn’t let up, digging more harshly into your throat as you faltered.
Gasping and struggling fruitlessly against him, you stared into the molten gold of his eyes as he pressed his face closer to you.
“You know nothing,” he hissed, “you’ll never be ready-”
“JUNGKOOK!”
A cacophony of voices suddenly swelled, joined by hurried footsteps.
The pressure on your throat was gone then, and you met the ground at last. But your feet couldn’t hold you up, and you crashed to the ground choking on the air that was finally forcing its way to your lungs.
Blinking, you looked up. The first thing you saw was pink, Jimin coming into focus beside you. Concern filled his eyes as your gasping continued, a hand falling onto your shoulder.
But you avoided his eyes in favour of finding what had become of Jungkook.
A few paces away, more of the boys were huddled, still jostling as Jungkook tried to escape. Hoseok was behind him, unrelenting grip on the younger’s arms stopping him from going anywhere. Even though you both knew Hope was the strongest of you all, that wasn’t stopping Jungkook from trying. Gold still bounced off the walls, blinding flashes shooting between, but missing, the members who barely seemed phased by his outbursts.
You couldn’t get a good glimpse of your rival though. He was eclipsed by Jin, who was trying to steady him by the shoulders, speaking quickly and sternly to the incensed man.
On his other side, Yoongi had a hand on his chest, pushing him back and further away from you.
Just then, another set of footsteps, not frantic like the others, made you look around. And even though his gaze travelled first to Jungkook, you couldn’t help but feel your veins freeze with dread.
Namjoon looked furious.
He marched in, V scurrying at his heels. At the sight of his leader, Jungkook seemed to finally ease up a bit, the scuffle quietening down.
A silence seemed to settle over the room, Jungkook’s last struggles dying away as Namjoon cast his eyes around everyone. A faint red haze flitted across his eyes and the lights in the room flickered perilously.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
It was the only time you had felt something close to solidarity with Jungkook. When you looked at each other, you could tell he gulped just like you.
“I thought this was going well,” he shook his head slightly. Your heart sank.
Raising his eyes to meet Jungkook’s again, he took a couple of steps towards the younger while the room held its breath. The lights turned red for a split second, then dimmed again, retreating as if they were equally afraid of the imposing leader.
“I don’t know what you were thinking. You’re supposed to be helping her, and this is how you go about that? You could have killed her! Is this your way of showing you can be trusted?!”
Namjoon never quite raised his voice enough to yell. But still you winced at the anger laced into his tone, and the arm he threw out towards you as he ranted.
Part of you stung anew after he said Jungkook could have killed you. You wanted to protest, hurt swelling within you at the insinuation that you were still too weak – but you pushed it down. The ghost of pain that lingered where Jungkook had struck you reminded you that he was right, as much as it shamed you to admit it, even to yourself.
Jungkook looked down, not able to keep eye contact with his enraged leader.
Sucking in his cheeks, Namjoon took a breath. But you certainly weren’t breathing. You could only hang on for whatever he said next, and the way he cast his eyes between the two of you didn’t instil much hope.
He fixed his eyes on you next.
“I told you I expected you to be able to trust us, including Jungkook. It’s clear you haven’t been able to do that yet. I’m sorry.”
Though he didn’t speak with as much fury, his sadness almost made you feel worse. You wished he would yell at you, give you something to push back against as Jungkook did.
But all you were left with was a punch to the gut more painful than anything the tempestuous younger boy could deliver.
His next words only made it worse.
“I’m keeping you back here until I’m sure you’re ready. I wanted you active as soon as possible, but not like this.”
Although his stern gaze lingered for a moment longer, you barely reacted. His words didn’t feel real. You could only stare blankly at him while the shock reeled through you.
When he turned away, you caught Jungkook’s eye. The satisfied glint you found there made your hands ball into fists.
“Jungkook,” Namjoon sighed now, pinching his nose, “same goes for you.”
At first, you weren’t sure you had heard him right.
Apparently, you weren’t the only one. Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror, straining against Hobi for another brief moment.
“What-?”
“I can’t have you acting like this while your head needs to be in the game, now more than ever. You’ll be staying behind until you show me you can be trusted with each other.”
Unlike with you, Namjoon fixed his dongsaeng with a hard stare, challenging him in some unspoken conversation until he seemed satisfied.
Turning to leave, Namjoon’s gaze fell on you again. His eyes softened, travelled to Jimin.
“Take her upstairs.”
With that, he stalked from the room. Light bled into the room again, but no one moved until he disappeared from the doorway, almost certainly returning to his office.
V stayed behind this time, and now moved towards you. Jimin’s hand on your arm shifted so he could help tug you up to stand. Though you may have stumbled a little, you were sure you could walk fine.
Still, you were grateful for Jimin’s hovering grip on your arm and V’s presence on your other side as they led you to the door.
Reaching the edge of the room, you glanced back at Jungkook. Your aim was to send the most venomous look you could, and it seemed his was the same. Still penned in by the others, who were corralling him away to the corner, he shot you a glare as he shrugged off Hope’s grip in an aggravated movement.
His scowl left your sight as you left the training room, but it stayed imprinted on your memory.
Thank you for reading!! I can't wait to hear what you think of the chapter!👀💜
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Pride Petty Watch
Long story short, I owe the BL gods, so I'll be watching TWO series from my Petty List during the month of June. This list includes shows I haven't watched for purely petty reasons, so I'm asking the crowd to pick the two shows I will watch from all the MAME series, some censored Chinese bromances, a few sexual tension-filled Korean bromances, and one wild card.
I'm making my first ever poll, so whichever two series get the highest numbers will be the two I watch. And for all the kind people in the crowd, this is not the time to think about me. Pick your favorite. And for all the people who I annoy on the daily with my wild ass takes that piss you off, pick TharnType. But there is a possibility of a secret thirteenth option that would hurt me much worse . . .
The petty ass reasons are below the poll.
Disclaimer: If you're going to read the petty ass reasons, I need you to understand these are PETTY ASS REASONS, so don't try to hit me with 2,000 words about why me not watching censored bromances is a problem or why me not liking your fave hurts your feelings. Nah. Pick a show!
MAME
Love By Chance
This show came out at the end of 2018, and I watched the first episode, maybe first two, and thought it was boring. Then, in 2019, I saw a GIF of the locker scene, so I recommitted. I made it past the first episode just when the PerthSaint drama started spilling out everywhere, so I chucked the deuces and haven't returned since.
TharnType
For some reason, I couldn't find the first episode when it aired. Then, I found out how the first episode ended. Then, I found out about Type's past. Then, I just kept finding out more awful stuff until eventually the MewGulf shit finally hit the fan, and I was still reeling from the PerthSaint drama (and the emerging ZeeSaint chaos). At this point, I've built this show up so much that I'm afraid to see what it is actually about.
Don't Say No
A story of another GIF of a locker room scene sucking me in! After the first two MAME pairs blew up, I believed her shows were cursed, so I opted out of watching this one even though I thought it would be the one to vibe with me the most. But the biggest reason was because the main characters came from TharnType, so I felt like I would have to watch TharnType to understand this show, which was a big hell nah.
Love in the Air
I watched this through mutuals on my dash, so I feel like I did watch it. It is also the highest rated MAME series, so I had faith in it. However, when I found out about Sky's past, TharnType's ghost popped back up, and I realized this demon of a show is gonna haunt me in every MAME series.
The Wedding Plan
Y'all hated one of the leads so much while it was airing that I now hate him, and I don't think I can let that go, so I'm coming in with pre-hate and TharnType's ghost, but on top of that, some of y'all said it was boring. But what is boring in a MAME series? Consent? Not kidnapping someone? I never got answers, so I'm very conflicted about this show.
Censored Chinese
The Untamed
It's color coded, but FIFTY FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Grey's Anatomy? The fuck! Second, once China pulled Addicted, I was holding grudges for life because it crossed from entertainment censorship into real-world oppression, so I could not bring myself to support media from a country that openly discriminates against the queers when I live in America where our highest court is just one Supreme Court Justice away from making us all live in the damn Mojo Dojo Casa House.
Word of Honor
It's color coded, but THIRTY-SIX FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Supernatural?! The fuck! Second, I don't know the difference between this and The Untamed. Both are color-coded, one of them has a lot of uncles (?), one of them has awful facial hair, and they all have pretty outfits. Every time someone makes a reference about these shows, I just nod the same way I do when people mention Star Wars because none of it makes sense.
Guardian
I spent two years believing Killer and Healer was Guardian. I haven't watched either, but I thought they were the same show. Honestly, if this show wins, I might just watch Killer and Healer because I will forget they are not the same show. Don't they both solve cases? And because it's China, past lives must be involved, no? I'm looking at their MDLs as I write this, and I'm still not convinced they are different.
Stay with Me
It's color coded, but I know how it ends, and word on the street is that IS the ending since a second season seems unlikely. China couldn't just let me be hurt over Addicted, the original. No. Gotta hurt me again with Addicted, the remake. Rude af.
The Spirealm
First off, SEVENTY-EIGHT FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Law & Order: SVU?! The fuck! I know how this ends, and it ain't happy! I don't care how people are trying to spin it, so to sit through SEVENTY-EIGHT DAMN EPISODES just for that ending already has me irate. And don't try telling me Viki combined episodes so it's only thirty-four. That's still a lot. However, everybody who has watched it says it's phenomenal, so is the pain worth it or are these people all lying so they convince themselves it was worth it?
Korean Bromance
Beyond Evil
With most Korean dramas, I feel like I missing something important. Like some part of the story does not click with me and I stay lost for the rest of the show. I suck it up for the queers, but the not-queers-but-it-is-queer shows . . . nah, and especially one about cops . . . (-_-). Also, The Worst of Evil just showed, and it was another reminder that I need these cops to quit their jobs and just screw each other. Embrace "Be Gay. Do Crime"
The Devil Judge
I know enough about Kpop to know GOT7 would not let one of its members kiss a man in this show. I looked at those GIFs of Jeff Satur and Jackson Wang on their show knowing damn well that if Wang got too close to Satur, an entire management team would have ascended from hell and kidnapped both of them, so the promo for this show was so wild because it felt queerbait-adjacent, and I was salty about it.
WILD CARD!
This option will be automatically unlocked IF this stupid little poll gets 216 votes, so I have high hopes this will not happen since I ain't that popular and I hate this wild card which is . . .
SOTUS
This show is my original TharnType. It came out in 2016. I watched it live. I watched the sequel. I remember neither. New was in it? Off was in it?! WHAT?! I have no memory of this show except Krist wiping his mouth, and I have carried that with me for eight damn years. I loved Be My Favorite, so I thought I moved past whatever strange grudge I was holding against this man who doesn't know I exist nor care, but then I saw that trailer for The Ex-Morning, and unlike Elsa, I can't let this shit go, so I'm willing to play Jumanji and go back into the jungle to finish this once and all.
So what it's gonna be, mi gente. Which demons am I facing for Pride and what shows do I get to stay petty about? Help me decide!
#Pride Petty Watch#it's time#help me decide which shows I'm watching#may the best demon win!#a promise is a promise#my blessings came quick#so I will not upset the BL Gods#I must pay them what I owe them#it is time
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Hope
Hi! So this is the first time that I've wrote somthing this length in a while so this will be a bit rusty.
This is slightly self indulgent as someone who has chronic pain, I just thought I'd write someone up with a reader who has it in mind.
Anyway reader is someone who experiences chronic pain, it's a small insight into the mind of someone who lives with it. I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possoble, but other than that I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to give feedback of any kind, I just ask that you are kind <3.
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton X Reader
Possible triggers: Dissusion of mental health problems, mentions of chronic pain and how it can affect someone's life, Mention of feeling sick / vomiting.
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The drawing room is not exactly the best place for you to be right now, you had initially thought that a spot of reading would be a sufficient distraction from the blinding pain shooting through your temple. unfortunately, the book you are reading, or trying to at least is not providing any useful distraction, with the words on the page becoming more blurred the more you try to preserver.
Huffing you close the book, trying to focus on something else to distract you from the burden you carry. The pain.
You were never a sickly child, quite the opposite, you were always able to bounce back from any aliment that affected you, that was until sometime during your early adulthood. You cannot fully remember when it happened, just that one day it started, a sharp pain like a needle had been pushed through just under your kneecap and the stubborn thing would not go away.
At first, you had thought you had just over-exerted yourself during the social season with dancing, however, when that had ended, and you found yourself with more time to rest and recover you found that this pain remained. And it had gotten worse, it slowly moved upwards towards your other joints, sending sparks between all the different offending joints.
A knock at the door breaks your train of painful thought, you slowly move towards the door, confused as you had confessed to your maid that if anyone needed or wanted you for anything to very gently turn them in another direction to not exacerbate your pain anymore with meaningless conversations.
The door slowly creeks open, your maid’s face apologetically peeking around the frame.
“Apologies, I understand you did not want to be bothered; however, you have a visitor. One who is very adamant to see you, even after I explained that you had fallen ill today…” she relays, she seems almost skittish, unlike her usual self. This visitor has put up more of a battle than others, who would see you?
Sighing you looked towards her, trying not to cringe at a sudden stinging in your temples, you can’t very well be mad at her, after all, she can’t ultimately swat away everyone that wants to see you, though you had hoped that you would’ve had more time to try and calm down this headache before seeing anyone, alas, fortune is not in your favour today.
“Please do not apologise, Ester, you tried your best,” you say sympathetically. “I do not think I would be so lucky to hide myself away for the whole day without interruptions, please do send whoever is most eager to see me in, if you would not mind.” With the housekeeper slipping back out the door you try to calm yourself, ‘breath, just breath’ you think, trying to calm yourself down, trying to calm the headache, as well as your body.
You are not given enough time, as you hear the door opening again, this time more swiftly than before, footsteps moving quickly and a huffing breath. You then realise a slight error in your wording to your maid early, while you had instructed her to tell people that you had fallen ill, you mostly assumed that she would only need to tell people already aware of your ailment, and with that understanding they would know that you were somewhat alright and not gravely ill and not someone else. Someone who is not aware of your condition, someone who is now staring at you with anxious eyes trying to determine what it is that is wrong with you.
With your body still positioned towards the door you fully take in your visitor, Mr Benedict Bridgerton. You watch as he steps into the room, the door slowly closing over, trapped.
“I was told you were ill” he starts, stepping closer towards the chair you reside in, eyes still darting over you trying to determine the cause of your ‘illness.’
“I give my apologies for being so ardent in wanting to see you, I had initially come here under different pretences, however, the way your maid described your illness I was stricken with worry.” He speaks too quickly, staring at you with a slightly overwhelming concern.
“What ails you so?” he finishes almost crouching in front of you. The pause in the room is too stifling, this question that you hoped you would never have to answer while alone. In the past, you were always quite fortunate when the question had come up, with your father or mother there to quickly move the conversation along. Never bringing the truth to light.
“A misstep walking down some stairs! The floors had just been washed and they were simply too enthralled within their novel to notice” was one such story that had to be shelved after multiple uses.
“Oh, you know they were just so concentrated with their needlework that they strained their hands; nothing to concern yourself about” another one, a slightly more believable story, and one that could be told repeatedly. However this time you were alone, there was no one to save you, no one to swiftly tell a half-truth. No, you were on your own, and with a mind-numbing headache in addition.
“Ah, yes, erm please do excuse Ester, she does tend to exaggerate a little bit with her storytelling, I have but a simple headache.” You are not exactly lying, you do have a headache, you are simply omitting that the ache is also everywhere else within you.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Benedict replies, visibly relaxing, almost bending in half with the sigh he lets out.
“I thought you to be gravely ill with how your maid detailed your condition” he continues, “That you could hardly move, and you were racked with pain” he recounts, what you can only assume to be Esther's attempt at persuasion. And while true, you had hoped she would have chosen something along the lines of having a simple cold.
“Yes, well, as you can see, I am in perfect health, you have nothing to worry about Mr Bridgerton, though your concern is duly appreciated. I do hope your time has not been wasted by travelling over here,” you respond, very much hoping that you can put this conversation to bed. You can feel the pain in your temples starting to come down towards your neck, you need to move, having been sitting in one position for too long but with Mr Bridgeton here you could not just up and move. You also had forgotten your cane this morning in your room, not thinking you would need it very much today, and you did not particularly want to be witnessed limping up and out of the room in front of a man who had no idea of your condition.
Your only plausible solution was to grin and bear it, or rather, politely smile and nod along to whatever this man was about to ask you.
“Nonsense!” he exclaims loudly in a jovial manner, making the pain shoot through you once more.
“My time is never wasted when it comes to you” he speaks softly, as if he realised that by shouting, he would be causing you pain.
“If you are in good health I was wondering if I might ask something of you?” Ah the question you have been waiting for, it could not have come quicker.
“Yes, you may” Your response could be seen as quite rushed if you were in a normal situation, however with the pressure in your temples building and the pain slowly becoming more intense, you found yourself not caring how your actions could be perceived as by others of the ton.
There is a moment of silence where neither of you say anything, staring at him expectingly, you choose to prompt him by nodding your head towards him, hoping he catches onto your hint.
“Oh Right!” he starts with a jump. “Well I came here today with a confession of sorts, I have witnessed you, wait! Ah!” he suddenly stops almost aware of how slightly strange he must sound.
“Oh goodness, well- I, god” You take some pity on him as he seems to stumble over his words, ablet not enough pity to warrant sitting patiently in an increasingly uncomfortable chair.
“Mr Bridgton, I do not mean to rush you but would you please simply ask this question” huffing slightly.
“I know this is not how I am supposed to go about this, but I cannot ignore my feelings for you any longer! Please would you do the honour of letting me court you?”
There is a pause after his confession, stunned, shocked you are not sure how to respond. You almost think it is some cruel jest that he has been set up to follow through, but as you look at him, his expression and how he holds himself you realise that he is being as truthful. You feel as if someone has thrown a bucket of cold water over you, what does this mean? This cannot be real. This man of high stature wants to court you. While not lowly in rank, you certainly are not what you would expect a Bridgerton to go for and certainly not someone as seemingly broken as yourself.
Sitting there for a few more moments you realise that he is still waiting for your response.
“I, I cannot” you start “I am very sorry, but I cannot accept this offer.” You state, dropping your focus to the floor.
“I. what?” Benedict almost laughs, stunned.
“Why can you not? Are you intended to another?”
“No, I am very much not.”
“Are you interested in someone else?” You scoff at the question.
“No, not that it matters either way” The pain starting to build up even more now that you are having to argue your case.
“I have refused your offer, Mr Bridgton, I do fear that Ester had some truth in her words and I feel a headache coming on. I think it best that you leave for the day” You aren’t lying per se, you have had a headache for the best part of the day.
“But why not? I do apologise, but I am simply confused. You are not intended to another, and you are not interested in anyone else, so why refuse my offer.” He states.
“At least agree to court me, and then you can make your decision afterwards, at least let me have a chance to show you how I care for you.”
You are starting to get frustrated, and the pain in your head has started to become unbearable, like someone smashing pots and pans together, you feel a ringing in your ears, and you almost want to throw up.
“I am not well!” you explode, your breathing is ragged as your chest moves quickly. The pain in your temples is more present than ever, cringing you move to push your forefinger and thumb to either side of your nose bridge and start to pinch, hoping that brute force would almost will the pain to subside.
‘Pathetic’ you think to yourself, ‘I can’t even argue correctly, must everything I do be muddled with pain?’ You try and calm your breathing, focusing on the feeling of your fingers on your face, the clothes you are wearing, your breathing, anything to try and calm the pain down before it loses control.
There is a strange tension between the both of you, a quiet blanket that has been placed over the room as you do not know what to say.
“I am not well sir… I have not been for quite some time” you start again, still pressing your finger and thumb into the sockets below your eyebrows.
“Ester was right. I am riddled with pain, every day. I cannot dress without the pain, eat without it, speak, walk, laugh; live without it, I am tormented by it…” You begin to feel a sharp pain behind your eyes as tears start to fall onto your cheeks. Realising that by unravelling this thread that you would not be able to stop, you cannot tangle it back up again and simply throw it into your sewing box never to be spoken about again.
“I cannot be who you want me to be, I cannot offer you anything. It hurts to live, and I cannot burden you with that, you would be throwing away your freedom if I were to agree to your request. Do you want that? To be saddled with an intended that cannot do the simplest of tasks without the burden of pain?” You seem to burst out into a frenzy of words.
Without giving him a chance to argue back you move to stand, using a hand to brace yourself on the side of the chair you are occupying, you push down to give your body the momentum to move, your elbow shaking as it strains under the surplus of weight it is not normally used to. You curse yourself for not bringing your cane with you.
You pause while trying to catch your breath, frustrated that you simply cannot run out of the room and hide after such a shocking outburst, left to just stand there trying to muster up the strength and energy to try and move towards the door. With your head tilted down you were fortunate enough that you could not see his face, which was one of pain and shock.
Starting again you move towards the door, gripping the backs of chairs and the edges of side tables, with your back turned you don’t see Benedict moving as well, like a kicked puppy wanting to be comforted he follows behind you, he does keep his distance, not wanting to upset you further than you already are.
As you place your hand on the door, dropping it down so you are grabbing the handle, you feel a presence behind you. From the corner of your vision, you see a hand place itself on the door. You slowly turn around to face him, you thank some part of him that he is not crowding you up against the door, that he has given you some space.
“Please let me go, let me go. You can be free, you can move on, let me be.” you pleaded, looking up at him, your eyes flitting over his face looking for a sign, any sign that would indicate that he headed your prayer. You slowly focus on his eyes, looking within them, your breath hitches as all you see is a kindness so gut-wrenching it makes you feel physically sick.
There is no malice, no pity, or any inclination that he will follow your word. All you see within his gaze is kindness, one of love and hope. You start to feel overwhelmed, having such a kind affectionate gaze homed in on you. You think back to all the times you caught his gaze; at balls, gatherings, when he would come to speak to you, when he came to visit today to ask to court you. You think about how there was no pity within his stare, no sympathy, no looks of “such a shame, one so young yet so ill,” none of that.
You start to think about how you have brushed him off, how you have ignored him, at times even running away from him, too wrapped up in your melancholy to even look, actually look at how he was gazing at you, too scared to even admit that someone might even look at you within out an ounce of pity.
You start to think about how you could allow this, the love and admiration of another person, how this could happen. Could this happen? Could you willingly put your anxieties aside and let someone in, could they be your rock, could they hold you when the pain becomes overwhelming, suffocating you, pulling you down into despair?
Could you let him? As this question appears within your mind you feel a spark, like flint and rock smashing together, start within you. It is almost unnerving, unnatural. You have not felt this for an extraordinarily long time, almost losing belief that you could ever feel it again.
Hope. Hope that you could be loved and cherished, that you could have someone there for your bad days, as well as your good days where you could go for a walk or a carriage ride, where you could go to socials and visit family.
This line of thought left you almost breathless, as you still stood within the drawing room of your home. Slightly pressed up against the door, with one of your hands behind your back on the handle as you were trying to escape…again.
As this chaos was happening within your head, Benedict slowly brought his hand to your cheek, hesitating as if unsure if his action would cause you more pain than comfort.
Pushing the feeling of guilt down, you take a leap of faith by slowly moving your head towards him, tilting it so your cheek rests within his palm. You flinch slightly, Benedict moving his band away from you, nervous that he might have caused you more anguish. Quickly you stop him, bringing your other hand to cage his, gently placing his hand back onto your face, cupping your cheek and jaw slightly through his hand.
“It…it did not hurt that much, I was just surprised is all” you whispered “It has been a very long time since anyone has held my face this way” You can feel your reserve beginning to crack, you pushed forward, that small spark of hope within you starting to burn brighter.
“It is quite lovely actually, I don’t have to use as much energy to hold my head up when it is being held for me” you ramble, trying to ease the tension and hopefully his nerves.
“I see” he replies slowly, looking over you to make sure that his actions are not upsetting you in any way. Slowing analysing your features, sketching your appearance in his mind, unsure if he might get an opportunity to be this close to you again.
Bringing his focus to your eyes he is startled at what he finds, hope. A small whisp of it, and while surrounded by what he can assume is anxieties and doubt, he is so certain that it is there.
“If you would let me” he continues “it would be an honour to hold your head for you if only for a moment, to provide but a small reprieve.” Realising that you are not stopping him from speaking, he continues.
“You are so extraordinarily strong, a remarkable person. Willing to take on so much and push through it all, despite the load you carry” he feels your head rest slightly more in his hand, seeing your eyes fluttering before you shut them for a moment. He is worried slightly that he might have messed up, saying something that pushed you down into the darkness rather than bringing you up into the light. However, as you open your eyes again, slowly raising your focus from his chest to his face, then to meet his gaze once more, he disregards his previous concern. He can see that spark burning ever so slightly brighter.
You gently pressed his hand between your own and your face, turning the latter into his palm so that your lips were ever so gently touching below his thumb. If he would be so bold he could move the digit with a feather-like touch across your cheek and wipe away any tear marks from earlier.
“But you do not have to carry this load alone, I am not sacrificing my freedom wanting to be with you” parroting one of your earlier statements with earnestness.
“I am not sacrificing anything, I come forward willingly, I come to you after hearing about you and your life. I come to you as a willing partner if you would have me. Allow me to carry some of your load, let me hold your head and hands for you. Allow me the honour of holding you during your dark moments as well as your light.”
“I want to be there for you, with you, I am not here out of pity, I am here out of admiration and love. I fear that if I loved you any less, I would be able to talk about it more, my heart is but a reflection of you.” He felt like he was rambling, struggling to find the words to convey his true feelings, how he was frazzled by you, in a way he had not been before.
There was a pause and he started to doubt himself, his words, and his abilities before he saw a subtle movement from the outskirts of his vision.
As you looked into his eyes you could feel your grip on the door handle slipping, becoming less tense, less firm. Overcome with emotions from Benedict’s confession your hand goes limp, falling from the handle completely.
As you stare into his eye you slowly bring now limp hand up towards his face, almost parallel to his still cupping onto your own. You move slowly, akin to a dazed animal who is wary of any sudden movements; as you reach, you settle your arm on his chest resting so that your palm now cups his jawbone.
Benedict sees the movement, your hand dropping and moving up, towards him, he feels like he might faint, being able to touch you is one thing, but you, touching him is something he did not consider. He shuts his eyes, almost squeezing them closed not wanting to frighten you with how shocked he must look.
When you finally rest your hand against his chest, he felt like his heart must have stopped beating, he froze, willing himself to take a breath, to steel himself before opening his eyes.
For when he did, he was in awe, the spark that was once so dim, nearly stamped out was burning and it was burning bright.
“Do you mean it?” you ask, voice shaking slightly.
“With my whole heart, with the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. I will be by your side till you are through with me, till I drive you mad, till we are grey and even then, I will still hold your head for you so you can rest for a while.” Benedict tries to convey every ounce of his emotions that he feels so you can be sure that you are fully aware of what he is experiencing.
“I think I would like that” your reply is rushed. Not wanting to waste a moment, not letting it run away or hide. You finally made your choice, you would let hope win, you would lose the battle but win the war and your victory prize did not seem all that bad.
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Prompt: The villian comes around the corner, sneaking into the hero's house while they're supposed to be celebrating with friends. Only to see the hero slumped against the wall, drunk.
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The villian came around the corner. Only to see the hero all alone in her room slumped against the wall with bottles surrounding her.
"Wh- what are you doing?" The villain asks.
"Huh?" The hero raises her head to look at him. "Oh... It's you" she says sadly.
"Yeah it's me so get up and fight me" he says urging her to get up.
"Nahh let's just end it here, I am tired, you win I lose, happy?"
Confusion fills up the villain's face "N-no, not happy. See? I am not happy. What do you mean, what's going on? You always fight for this place and the people of it"
The hero hums "yeah I guess but it's not like I owe it to them" a hunt of resentment seeps through her calm voice.
"Wha- but you grew up here with these people shouldn't you want to protect them?"
"I can say the same about you too. You weren't the only one they treated like an outcast because of what you could do. I was treated the same way but when you decided to show up all powerful and mighty I had them choice to either join you and prove them correct or fight you and prove them wrong. I did what I thought was the right thing..."
The villain gapes and the hero continues "everyone looovves the hero until they get all up and close with them and realize it's not all fun", she goes to grab another bottle but before she can the villain quickly snatches it
"Hey!! I need THAT. How else am I supposed to act like everything is fine if I can't let it out in the solitude of my own home and drink my problems away" the villain sets the bottle aside, not listening.
" This isn't about the town's people is it. Someone close to you? Who? Viviana? Cobey? Never liked them, always thought they were kinda a weird duo to take up as a guard" the villain said clearing some of the tissues and bottles so he could sit.
"No it wasn't them" the hero mumbled out.
"Then who? I really don't think you are close to that many people" the hero hummed softly in agreement.
"W-wait I didn't mean it as an insult I just meant that there aren't many people who you trust... wait that doesn't make it better does it?" The villian winced.
"Well if it isn't them then who-" The villain's eyes widen as the realization sets in. "No..." He whispers and the hero just nods.
"Liam? How? He is the last person I would've guessed to be the reason for all this" he gestured to the bottles and pillows.
"He doesn't know that I am like this. I acted all calm and composed in front of him." She slumps "well I hope I did because otherwise I just seem like a sad lonely idiot"
"B-but that doesn't make any sense... Yo-you guys were in love. He was the only person I couldn't even think of trying to blackmail because he was so loyal to you".
The hero let out a chuckle. "It's not his fault really... Mostly mine for putting the kingdom and the people of it before everything else".
"Of course it's not your fault I just don't understand what happened". The villain says.
"He wanted to settle down, and I couldn't do that, he wanted a family and I couldn't give it to him, he wanted me to not put the city before everything else and I once again couldn't do it." she let out a sob. "I let something that took everything from me destroy the one thing I had left"
"Oh..." Is all the villain could let out. He didn't know how to comfort anyone or if he even should comfort her.
"The worse part is that he was so nice about it too" her voice cracks.
"He said that he couldn't do it, that he couldn't live like this when I put everything else before him. But he also said that it didn't mean that he wasn't going to be there for me. He said he would still be my friend and will always fight beside me" she let out another sob. "H-he wished me luck and said that he hoped that I could learn to put myself before the city... H-he said he would be there for me but that he can't wait forever and this is something I have to learn myself" by now she was full on sobbing.
The villain didn't know what to say or do. "You know...I had a similar experience too" he says. Where did that come from? Stupid.
But now the hero was looking at him with curious eyes. Those eyes wide, and for a moment almost forgetting the tears they had just shed. He sighed, it's not like she was going to remember this anyways and it's better than listening to her sob.
"She was the most talented and beautiful woman I had very seen. She still is..."
He glanced at her only to find her staring up at him urging him to continue. He sighed.
"She was the only on who understood me, she knew what I was going through without me even telling her. She didn't have her life any better than mine but she still went around with a smile on her face that made my day. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, the reason I decided to wake up every morning...and then I ruined it. I became this. Even after everything she did for me I knew I couldn't live like that forever and I didn't want her to have to either... But she didn't agree. She believed there was a better way. But I knew that was just hope and hope is dangerous. So as much I wanted to I couldn't let myself become the hopeful boy I used to be waiting for a day where everything would be fine. So I left..."
He finished and looked at her.
"that's not a good ending" she pouted.
"He let out a sad chuckle "No...it's not, is it? But I guess we can't always have a happily ever after" He glanced at her again.
Her bright eyes, the one that shined so bright everytime she smiled.
"Do you miss her? Do you regret it? does the pain ever stop?" Her voice cracked at the last sentence.
" Yes... I miss her every day" and he did but not because he didn't get to see her but because every time he did she acted as if she didn't know him, as if everything they went through didn't matter like becoming...this, erased everything else.
"And I do question if she was right. That if I hadn't become the villain everything would have been fine but I also know that that's just wishful thinking..." He sighed.
"The pain doesn't go away...well at least for me it didn't but it gets better over time. Surround yourself with the people who love you most and soon you'll understand that that's just how somethings happen. Unlike me you didn't lose someone, maybe as a lover sure but from what you told me it seems as if you aren't losing him as a friends or someone you care about and who cares about you." He says.
"What about you? Did you lose her?" She asked, her voice slightly more sober now.
"I like to think not forever" he said as a sad smile made its way onto his face.
That was one thing he let himself hope for, the only time he let himself be a little boy again and believe that one-day everything would be okay.
The villain let out a breath getting up.
"Let's get you cleaned up first alright?" The hero nodded as the villain helped them stand up.
The moment she was on her feet she stumbles forward. The villain caught her before she could fall. "Sorry... It's hard to walk after you just drowned yourself in..."
She squinted her eyes and looked towards the bottles "whatever that is. What is that anyways?" She asked.
The villain confused looked at the bottles and his eyes widened. "What the- you were drinking straight up hard liquor, no wonder you're like this. Come on I'll carry you"
#villian#tumblr writers#tumblr writing community#writers#writing#writing inspiration#writing prompts#writers on tumblr#writing prompt#writeblr#ao3 writer#villian x hero#hero x villain#hero x supervillain#hero#superhero x villain
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I feel like there is a spectrum of engaging with a celebrity. it’s one thing to have conversations offline, another to have conversations online that can be read by everyone (not really including tumblr in this, but thinking more about twitter, TikTok, DM on instagram and her podcast) and then another using those public platforms to make your views about her choices known by pointing your conversation at her. Idk I feel comfortable in my dislike of MH and also don’t really feel like I’ve crossed a line by talking about it amongst my friends or on my blog that she doesn’t see. Maybe I’m being naive or making excuses for myself but I feel like Taylor understands there are so things that just are the reality with celebrities and there are some that are too much?
here's how i see it!
i think taylor likes being seen/understood, and she likes that her music or experiences are relatable. it all makes her feel less alone. she's an artist and that's why we create art!
but she knows she can't have this success and this freedom without the negatives. i think she's done what she can to reduce some of the negativity, like by not consuming it, but also by setting more boundaries, doing less promo, sharing less of her life, and so on. reasserting the boundaries in her music is part of that.
i'm sure she thinks some fans or detractors are "worse" than others. but ultimately, she wants ALL of her listeners and fans and detractors to hear what she's saying (that we have no right to try and control her or shame her into changing her behavior.) and she's right! but she also knows that saying it won't stop people, necessarily.
i'm sure if she did read my blog, she'd be like "bitch, you don't know me, shut up!!!" i accept this. i still feel fine about how i interact with her celebrity and whatnot.
i've personally never thought taylor should change to cater to me. and maybe that's why, even though i think she's calling me (and people like me) out in the song, i don't lose any metaphorical sleep over it. i already felt my interest in her/the fandom was healthy enough. like, for example, would i love it if she was more aligned with me politically? yes, but she's not. i accept this. would i love it if she worked with X, or did less Y? sure. but she probably never will and i accept this. does she probably wish i'd shut down my blog? maybe! i accept this too! and i'm not going to fajsdkl
idk if this explains anything. just saying things!
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My grandpa came outside into the backyard and told me that my younger cousin is going to quit his job at [insert job here], and he is going to go work at another place, so my grandpa told me that I could go work at [insert job here]. He said that I could fill out the application online, or I could tell my younger cousin that I'm going to go in person, and my younger cousin can tell his manager to look out for somebody with my name.
That kind of made me sad, because I knew he was thinking about my birth name, and it made me feel bad because my name isn't [dead name], it's Rowan.
My name is Rowan, and it has always been Rowan. My name has never once been [dead name]. Sometimes it's Jayden, but like, 99% of the time, my name is Rowan.
I don't want to get a job or get an ID because I don't want people to know or see me as my birth gender. I don't want my ID to say "female". I want it to say "male".
I cut my hair and wear baggy clothes because I thought it would dampen the female parts of my body and appearance, but somehow, to me it only emphasizes it.
I was watching a YouTube video where the YouTuber was talking about a video game character's ex-girlfriend, and it just made me super insecure because I want to have a partner, but I'm sort of incapable of having feelings for somebody in a romantic context. I want to date someone; I want to be in love with someone, but I just can't get myself to have those feelings for them.
To make matters worse, all over my YouTube short page is Brett Cooper. She is basically the female version of Ben Shapiro, and everybody in her comment section was agreeing with her about how the LGBTQIA+ community is horrible and how the parents are horrible, toxic people for letting their AMAB children wear dresses and they were being sexist to women.
Most, if not all, transgender people tend to start exploring their identity when they are children or when they hit puberty. It's chemicals inside your brain saying that you don't want to be this or that you like [this] instead of [this]. You're born this way. It's not something that you choose to be.
I'm not a boy or girl; I'm just me, and I like all genders. What's wrong with wanting to wear boys' clothes? What's wrong with wanting to go by gender-neutral terms? What's wrong with having crushes on people for their personalities and not what's inside their pants? What's wrong with any of that?
One of my biggest fears—the thing that has been eating at me for the last couple hours—is that I'm going to spend the rest of my life as a woman who is married to a man. I don't want to be seen as that—I don't want to live my life as that.
Yeah, I'm pansexual; I will literally date anyone of any gender identity, because I care more about our emotional connection, their personality, and their appearance than what genitalia they have or their gender identity, but being a woman in a heterosexual relationship is just something I don't want to be outwardly seen as.
I don't know what about being seen, as CisHet is so gross to me. I guess it's just the 'being seen as a woman' part, because I'm not a woman, but I'm also not a man. I know I keep saying this, but I'm just me. I guess I am non-binary instead of genderfluid. Since I'm not a man, a woman, or anything else really,.
I guess it's just the feeling of being masculine or feminine, and not man or woman, but again, I'm not entirely sure on that because sometimes I do feel very strongly like a man, other times I feel strongly like a woman, sometimes I feel extremely neutrally aligned, and other times I feel completely genderless. So I guess non-binary and genderfluid I could just use together, even though I only want to use one label.
If I really had to sum it up into three labels, I would say: genderfluid, aroace, and pansexual.
My mom and I have been talking about cashing my checks at the bank, and I'm just so scared to do it because I don't want to have my birth name on my account and ID and then not be able to change it in the future. I want to legally change my name, but I have a lot of commitment issues, so I don't really know if I actually want to do that or not, but I really, really like going by the name Rowan. The name just makes me feel so nice and comfortable with myself, but I'm scared to tell my mom that my real name is Rowan.
I just don't know what to do and I'm scared.
#MOGAI#Queer#LGBTQIA+#LGBTQIA#LGBTQ#LGBTQ+#LGBT#LGBT+#LGBTQQIA#2SLGBTQ+#LGBT2SQQIA#transgender#transmasculine#non binary#nonbinary#non-binary#enby#genderfluid
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im dying guys
pls just imagine that in a sentence for a sec rofl
He gazed lovingly into her big organic wheatgrass globes and caressed her plump peach cheeks with a stick-like digit.
#PLS MAKE THIS A MEME I NEED THIS THREAD WITH SENTENCE CONTINUATIONS IN MY LIFE OKAY IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK#yes I did in fact write that as bad as I possibly could on the spot#I thought to myself ‘how can I make this worse’#I hate it so much but also kinda love it for its terribleness#I’m sure we could all make it worse too#pls continue this awfulness#sentence starters#writing humor#writing#bad writing#orbs vs eyes#sentence starter meme#meme#sentence starter prompt#memes#funny memes#tumblr memes#meme humor
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my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out
and my poor heart is an open wound
A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident.
CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.
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What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it.
Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.
He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats.
Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.”
Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.
He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died.
Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream.
He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.
He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.
He has no mouth, but he must scream.
Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood.
Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off.
Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts.
Scrappy is just not enough.
He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all.
Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash.
But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane.
With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings.
Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice.
He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail.
Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.
Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it.
Being dead is agony.
Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow.
His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever.
In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be.
Being dead hurts.
#tw mild gore#cw mild blood#cw mentioned violence#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dp x dc crossover#dead on main#dp x dc au#dp x dc fanfic#cfau#cfau danny#obsessed with the fact that danny just has the WORST fucking time after jason dies and baby i can make it worse#*kills you and makes you a banshee and puts you in an irrevocable state of grief*#delicious angst. danny is having the wORSt time ever lol. lmao even#was originally meant to explore the idea that danny can survive lethal injuries as phantom. which briefly got mentioned.#but i got away from myself. leaning reaaal heavy into the fact that danny's a banshee. At 19 he's got a pretty good handle of himself#but imagine being a fresh out the gate banshee. usually they get time to themselves in the zone to cry until their heart's content.#sorry danny. you have school tomorrow and family sleeping in the bedroom next door#kinda proud of myself. you can kinda see how Rath would've occurred here.#danny is going through it rn#was gonna add a snippet about the city's thoughts on phantom but couldnt fit it in
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Me: Everything i make is garbage i shouldn't even bother
The eiden in my head:
Me: Sorry eiden you're right my efforts have value
#any time i feel down about the act of creation#actually. any time i feel this way about... saying words in public too#when i'm typing up a comment anywhere on this site and the internal narration is constantly trying to stop me#with LOUD whispers of No one cares!! or even worse... people actively do not want to know ur thoughts!!! zip them fingerlips!!!!!!#during moments of struggle like this#i summon eiden like the powerful support assist he is#into my battle against myself#hey if he can fix kuya he can definitely fix me 😂#he is a stellar therapist for the clan. so strong. how does he do it#a new coping mechanism!! next time you feel down about your work#imagine you're one of eiden's clan members#exhibiting Mental Illness#and he just gives u that empathetic loving look. with some weird combo of words that makes u feel infinitely better#love u eiden u damaged sweetheart ty for the cbt#eiden
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its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously
#I have an assignment that was due a week ago and I really really dont want to do it. I have to but i dont want to#im probably making it worse because my brain has built a wall around it so now i can’t do literally anything else until thats done. but#because I don’t want to do it I’m just kinda stuck. turns out this is what they meant when they said emotional regulation is part of#exec dysfunction.. I’ll have a thought like if I get a little bit of it done now i can get it over with. I can just submit something#and then not even 5 minutes later itll be like ugh but I have to draw all the assets out. I have to write things and make spreads ugh#and its just flopping between those two things. i hate it when ppl are like well how much time do you need to work on one thing#because BOY id love to know too. I’d love to know exactly when my brain wants to cooperate with me and work around that but I cant#even my period can’t decide when it wants to punch me in the stomach. which is kinda funny in the grand scheme of things but still#its so weird im just lying on my bed thinking abt all this like damn.. the time will pass anyways no matter what I decide to do.. damn….#if I submit that assignment now and take the L I literally won’t die. it’ll just be a deduction on an assignment nobody will ask me about#I know this but I’m still stressing myself about it so my thoughts aren’t really connecting to my body. weird#maybe its because Im having a hard time looking forward to things. theres definitely a lot I should be living for but I don’t really feel#a strong attachment to it I guess? it’s been like this for a while with holidays and meeting with friends so I just don’t#I kinda figured its because im pretty passionless and its more like passing interest. but it’s not very fun when it feels like I’m going to#be living distraction to distraction for the next 70 years or so lol#idk it kind of feels like slowly bleeding out. which is funny because I actually did experience blood loss this week#had a 30 minute nosebleed and literally could not stand. also it felt like someone was pinching the back of my brain which was interesting#yapping#does this count as vent#vent#Ive just been making an oc carrd and contemplate changing my blog header for the past 3 days honestly
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i have soooo much more i cld say abt him, and have explored more thru other doodles, but quick summary of talon's whole deal, which is subject to change still as he's only almost 2 yrs old as an oc
#oc text#obvs sparse description of the events bc i dont mean for it to be gratuitous#even if i decided to explore it further in some medium the focus wouldnt be gratuitous ykwim#not that there werent awful stuff within that but my focus with talon is also more exploration of like#even stuff that isnt a big deal (which it wasnt at first) can effect someone greatly#and then once it does get a bit worse the focus is still more on the effects of how he views himself and the aftermath#AS WELL AS LIKE. well. did i do this to myself? i went back. do i deserve this?#he's a lot like me and the reason i like the self insert dynamic is bc he thinks of cheye as Me If It Didnt All Go Horribly#bc ive not gone thru the Extreme but i have had interactions with ppl who very enthusiastically thought i was ummmm underage!!!#while they were already being creepy toward me and making me nervous abt my safety !#so this isnt ''he's umm 400 but looks 12 bc i want to do weird shit with him 😏'' dude drawing him Fed makes me so sad sometimes...#we're also weird eating buddies <3#and grief buddies <3 he actually further spawned out of my need to deal with a lot of family members passing away in such a short time#severe death phobia buddies...#i still dont know how he really feels about his Old Wrinkly Form btw all i know is he feels safe in it#as much as id love to sway toward ''he thinks he's hot like that. because he is.'' i also dont want to convey the wrong message wrt this#form being due to....disordered eating caused by Issues. ykwim#though! he can shapeshift quite well when he's fed and maybe he'd choose that form willingly if he ever got. Past everything#he does hate that he never gets to actually age...! he wishes he cld age normally like a mortal...(still scared of dying though)#but we cant knoww for certain yet ykwim. maybe he'll let me know soon.#my issue with talon other than i suck at plots is well he has too many of my issues. and. idk how to solve them.#he's growing with me.#oh and have we noticed he's mean to me when *im* being mean to me...MANY such metaphors#ok goodnite
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whatever //blasts your old man with the butch beam//
#rgg#ryu ga gotoku#ryu ga gotoku 7#yakuza like a dragon#yakuza 7#yakuza series#jo sawashiro#genderbend#snap sketches#sorry.#i laid in bed for three seconds and i dont know what happened i saw a vision and thought to myself 'how can i make my mommy issues worse'#unrelated ramble time my dad. texted me and he did the whole 'you need to eat' bit#and then i told him i was goin to my moms this weekend for a hot minute and he was all 'oh ill send you miso soup :) quick an easy :)'#like thank you...... i. LOVE. water.#i actually do like miso soup but it just seems like a funny thing to me idk LOL#immediately after that he was like 'wait ill just give you money for groceries'#which i felt bad bout since i always feel bad gettin money from my dad. not my mom tho she's a witch#see this is. why we're here tonight this ramble is NOT totally unrelated LMAO#anyway. i have a genderbent ichi doodle too but i figured one (1) instance of me being ill is enough for tonight#so with that im gonna look at the wall more and think of women BYE
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How long does it take you usually to fulfill requests? They seem fairly detailed 🤔
i'll be completely honest, i don't really know! i mean, it depends on exactly what you mean. sometimes it takes weeks for me to even get to some requests with how my inbox is (the oldest one right now is from the very beginning of december, so sorry if you've been waiting that long!!), but from sketching to the finished piece varys greatly
my estimate is anywhere between 20-30 minutes to a few hours. i think there's only been a few times where it takes me multiple days, and thats usually when i start them right before going to bed
#it also depends on which artstyle i use#because when i use the animal crossing-esque one it takes a lot less time and effort (which is why most of the time when i draw all the lib#i use that one)#the more realistically proportioned one takes longer#this is a really interesting question thank you for asking!!#ive never really thought about how long it takes me. like you'd think i can check the canvas information#but i do all my art on the same canvas#so that's not gonna work#i can tell you that my most recent canvas took 17h#and usually they take somewhere between 15-20h#so there's that#definitely an ask#every so often there will be an ask that i get and i'm immediately like 'that HAS to be drawn'#and in that case i let it skip the queue a little bit so to say#for example. when im sad i pick a random boy jerry request to make myself feel worse (joke)#WAHOO I SHOVED A BOY JERRY MENTION IN HERE MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
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also I had a breakthrough today that I had in fact overthought a Specific Problem to Death and that I had created a monster in my own mind and that’s why it felt like I was being eaten alive every time I tried to solve it.
#not to put too fine a point on it but that’s what happened with the whole is Maria going to become a nun question tbh#and I needed a counselor to say to me objectively and yet also crucially without any knowledge of me or my past:#you have overthought this and now you’re terrified of it#anyway it’s so obvious but it came home to me today. slowly.#like it was just like. Oh. You did it again#you’re terrified of this because you have thought of every possibility and every outcome and every twist and turn and shadow—-#until it has become a bloated demon in your mind that is totally separated from reality#while made up of real facts and details! and tbh I know it’s a common problem#but the anxiety chokehold I can put myself in is something that is so impressive and so disturbing#I can render myself absolutely helpless through the meanderings of my own thoughts#and what makes it worse—immeasurably worse—is that I get OUT of problems through careful thought and analysis#I’m programmed that way#so I can’t escape it by the usual means. I have to back away from the monster and see it and NAME it and then it can die away.#and only THEN can I apply my usual ways of going about things. I don’t know it just all clicked today#these past few days have just been bringing it all to a fever pitch for me#anyway I guess it’s also important to me that I still be allowed to be analytical about it!!! I have to use my brain!!!!!!!#in my desperation I have tried to shut it off to feel only with my heart. To try to catch the whisper of God’s voice in the wind#but tbh I am meant to use the gifts I have! But only in the right context#and that’s only after the demon has been killed or more accurately —deflated#my counselor has been so good about this tbh. she’s so matter of fact and blunt and salt of the earth and also she sees how my mind works#and wants me to be able to use it!!#so I’m just going to tell her that I did the bad thing with this other problem and can she help me find a way forward#ANYWAY THE MONSTERS TURNED OUT TO BE JUST TREES
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the forest looks like heaven today i woke up feeling the heaviest weight at the top of my heart
#yesterday on the study they said they were dating two others and it was going well and i cant imagine fucking you but#you have great tits. they got upset at me not inviting them to a party. my research partner told me to write a 1000 word essay on why they#should come. they spoke about how much they wanted theiir ex and they wouldnt tell me much about who theyre dating bc#they thought i still had feelings for them which. god. theyre right but the assumption is so arrogant#the streams r rly beautiful im walking to a date and shes gorgeous and some of my friends know her but i look#exactly like ive slept on my friends floor for the past few days so . aaa anyway#god after that whole call i just felt so deflated like i felt over it but now its all . back. like seeing them being happy w smn else#inflicts active misery upon me which means ii think im becoming a worse person bc of them. i called my friend and i just . idk i walked home#i kept wanting to weep but . woah the sun is so pretty#there are petals and dandelion seeds floating in the air#med school students walking to their lectures#she does biochem btw. the person im meeting now#there are two butterflies dancing together. i cant make this shit up the past few days have looked like actual heaven#ive spent them being on survival mode and not even bc of my studies like ok focus on log functions while the person kn the screen#tells u abt how if her ex were to call shed fold immediately and the new girl is a singer and its going well and maybe ill tell you#more abt it in a few months. SO YOU KNOW IT HURTS ! SO WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME YOUD MAKE OUT W ME AT THE CLUB WHY WOULD U FALL ASLEEP NEXT TO#ME WITHOUT CLOTHES ON ! WHY WOULD YOU CARESS YOUR OWN SKIN LOOKING AT ME IN THE MIRROR !!!!#anyway im like . sane.#i just . felt like it was over#i realised i kept seeing ppl who i thought were more attractive etc etc than her bc i needed to prove to myself#that im attractive enough to be liked or that i can be liked at all and a part of me wanted to prove it to them too#its just a horrible mindset to have and yh not only do they not care but they also bring out the worst in me actively like . I DONT KNOW#BUT THEN WHO ELSE KNOWS THAT THE GOLDEN HOURS IN TEHRAN ARE PINK AND LILAC WHO GOES TO TECHNO RAVES AT THE BASE OF DAMAVAND#WHO CAN PIN YOU AGAINST A WALL LIKE THEM !!!#anyway#standing up it just feels so#exhausting#like this the most exhausted ive felt from all this ever
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HELP I FOUND OLD GHOSTFLOWER FICS FROM WHEN I WAS A BABY IN THE FANDOM
GOD THIS SHIT IS ACTUALLY TERRIBLE😭
#I REFUSE TO BELIEVE ITS GHOSTFLOWER#AND I THOUGHT I ATE THOSE UNFINISHED FICS UP#its possibly the worst attempt ive seen at a ghostflower confession fic and i can say that bc i wrote it#to tell you how much of a baby i was in the fandom i didnt know about the gwen stacy canon event yet#and that makes the fic worse bc i had to think of other reasons about why she wouldnt confess her feelings#its just bad and i dont know how i allowed myself to write that#erin talks abt random stuff#ghostflower
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