#Maybe it’s growing pains and I guess that’s valid but how long do I have to have them

[kazoologist]

I actually really fucking hate how anything in my schedule not going the way I initially Intended For It To just automatically makes me a massive fucking crybaby and or a raging bitch. Like dude. The grocery store does not hate me. It sucks that my schedule requires me to get there an hour earlier no matter what but like. They didn’t do that to me. Why am I always so upset whenever I have to change plans. I change plans too! I’m a living person!!! Why am I so fucking upset about this!!!!!!

[your-ne1ghbor]

My problems with Magnifico and Amaya and how I would rewrite them (TKoRaT AU)

GOD DAMN IT NOW I WISH MAGNIFICO AND AMAYA IN MY VERSION WERE GOOD PEOPLE AHHHHHHHHH-

Ahem..sorry..what was I gonna say?

Oh yea! Feeling like a long rant again, so prepare your eyes!!!💀

Sooo, I kinda have been off putting stuff again since I had school work and a bunch of ideas like this one, so I decided to just share it so I don't loose the idea (ik I can write it down but idk I felt like sharing it). Plus the fact that I've been more chatty lately lol.

Idk how to transition to my problems with Amaya and Magnifico so here.

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Magnifico and Amaya's Character in Wish 2023

Magnifico

Magnifico in the film is...well is a pretty stand up guy! Sure, he is paranoid most of the time and is pretty stubborn, but he is very selfless and a really generous person!

You can say he is more in line with the kings of original films that deeply care for their children, such as King Sefan from Sleeping Beauty, or King Frederic from Tangled.

In this case, he deeply cares for the people of Rosas. I mean yeah, it is weird that you forget what your goal is in life, but if I had nowhere to go and no roof over my head, of course I would go to Rosas to live there safely. Heck, in perspective, you have a chance of your wish getting granted, and don't have to pay rent to live there. It is a pretty fair deal, especially for families who want their kids to grow up out of harms way. Sure, he can't grant all of the wishes, but his reasoning is pretty valid. The only line I could get from the film that would support this would be when he commented on Asha's Grandfather's Wish (which is to inspire the next generation):

"To create what? A rebellious mob perhaps? Inspire them to...to do what? Uh, destroy Rosas, maybe?"

And a lot of people can argue that Saba's wish is very simple or isn't dangerous, but here is the thing. Simple things can have dangerous concequences no matter how small or big they are. Sure, you can start out small, like inspiring people, but it will cause a domino effect that can lead to something greater. Either for the better or worse. And example would actually be Walt Disney himself! He started out small, but without him, animation would not have gotten to where it is today. With his love and passion to art and story telling and taking risks, we WOULD NOT have gotten Puss in Boots, SpiderVerse, OR EVEN ANYTHING ANIMATION WISE. Walt Disney really pioneered animation and without those baby steps, there would not be an Disney, Pixar, Dreamworks, ect. It would just be...well...live action I guess. Hate the Disney company or not, Walt helped get animation to where it is today, and it sucks that his company, even after death, wont try anymore to push the limits of animation except for companies that isn't Disney.

Plus, I don't even blame Magnifico for thinking this way! Although it is sort of annoying that his backstory was told instead of shown (not that there is nothing wrong with telling, but showing for me is a more effective way of story telling for me. You can take the little mermaid for example), I personally understood where he was coming from. In his backstory, his home was destroyed from thieves and barbarians, with his family and possibly everyone he knew being dead. Its honestly tragic, so him making a kingdom for people to not suffer that pain again is very selfless of him and just...feels good in a good way you know?

But as everything in this movie is, it takes the good things and beats it over with a 30 foot pole and leaves it to rot.

He is turned into the villain. And no, it isn't because of Asha not getting what she wanted, and no, it isn't because Amaya, his wife died (she never did btw)! OH NO IT IS MUCH WORSE.

He opens up a mAgIc bOoK oF dArK mAgIc and becomes the bad guy...

...What the fuck. Actually no, applauds to you Disney! This is such a effective way of telling a story. 10/10 forever and ever. Great job! :D

(I am being sarcastic, this is legit the worst way for a good guy becoming the villain, its so fucking stupid-)

He is just simply stripped of his good qualities and only lets his bad qualities shine through. It kind of feels like he was being held at gun point here.

"OH PLEASE BELIEVE THAT I AM ACTUALLY THE BAD GUY. OH PLEASE GOOD CIVILLAIN THEY ARE GOING TO PULL THE TRIGGER-"

Seriously, there was no other way of making him the bad guy? Like legit? Simply remove his backstory and make him evil at the begining. I guess it would be weird if he took the wishes without reasoning, but even then, why give him good qualities when he is supposed to be the bad guy? He became more of a tragic hero than a tragic "bad guy".

I will go more into my problems with him after I talk about Amaya for a bit since talking about her character is more shorter than Magnificos.

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Amaya

The best I can say for her character is that she is like Jimmy Cricket but fell in love with Pinnocio (I know that sounds weird pls spare me).

She is like the voice of reason for Magnifico, and it is best shown when Magnifico FIRST concidered on using the book for "his evil deeds". This scene specifically:

Other than that, she wasn't really a character in the film AT ALL. It sort of sucks concidering what the original concept was (WE WILL GET TO THAT) and instead degraded her character to...well...nothing.

I can't really say anything about her since she just was "I am loyal to my husband" to "actually fuck you I will believe a 17 year old instead of the man I trusted for the amount of years it took to get the kingdom to it's feet." I want to, but I can't. SHE HAS NOTHING.

I wish I can say more about her character, but it would just be me ranting about how trash her is character and was handled. Speaking of that, lets get into why I dislike how they were handled.

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Why does their character bother me so much?

Well it is sort of hard to explain, but I'll do my best.

Magnifico was supposed to be the return of the classic villains. You know, on the levels of Jafar, Ursala, Evil Queen, Malificant, ECT, he just...wasn't. Although he had a bunch of Evil Queen inspirations thrown into his character, it felt like more of refrences to a better film than being apart of his character. Plus, I feel like I sympathized with him way to much. I personally felt more emotion when he was on screen instead of the main character because I understood where he was coming from. Its honestly baffaling to me, since if he didn't have his backstory told to us, I still would not rooted against him. Even without his backstory, it just sounds like he was doing this at the bottom of his heart and empathizing with people who are doing far worse than what he is going through. Its honestly heartwarming seeing a person trying to do good in the world and provide a safe place for everyone to be free from the burden of this world. And want to know something? None of the classic villains had tragic backstories. They are evil for the sake of being evil. There probably was some with sympathetic traits, but from what I recall, there is none. So going with the sympathetic rout is not on par with classic villains.

However, there is nothing wrong with giving your villains sympathetic traits. It makes them feel more rounded as a person/character, and you can get a lot of emotion from that alone. I just think that Magnifico being the villain doesn't make sense since as I said, they made him so generous and kind in the begnining and only destroyed it since "oh wait, we need a villain, so why not make the good guy the villain" and threw in the dark magic book and called it a day. Not even that, but he is not threatening in any way. What I mean by that, is that his powers don't really get an upgrade at all. His magic just sort of turns green and thats it! I even bet that he can crush wishes even without the powers of the magic book.

Going off topic, but making plushie..COUGH... star...(plusie = wish 2023 star) less "stronger" to make the female lead stronger just makes Magnifico's reason for going after plushie's powers even more useless. Even with plushie's powers, HE IS JUST THE SAME. I guess he can now create vines? BUT IT JUST DOESNT WORK. It makes more sense for Magnifico going after plushie when it is powerful because he could see that power as a THREAT to his own powers and his kingdom.

Now for Amaya, her turning against Magnifico is just stupid. Haven't you went through a lot with him? Why the hell did you give up after "oh he can't be saved"? I feel like she could have done a "true loves kiss" sennario which breaks the spell it has on him. Not only that, she barely contributes to the plot at all. The only thing she contributes to the plot is just "getting the teens into the castle so they can free the wishes" then disappears, then reappears at the finally when Magnifico got a little too silly with his drugs-I MEAN wishes haha... Then she becomes the ruler of Rosas. It feels weird and out of place, especially concidering her character MOST LIKELY went through so much with Magnifico only to turn on him when he gets a little mad. It is so stupid. Also, if you just remove her, nothing would really change except the first scene where Magnifico has the book, only this time, no one is there to stop him. And as I said, HER CHARACTER IS NOTHING. But here is the thing...

When concidering the concept version of Amaya, she would have been the villain along side Magnifico. Not as a selfish love relationship or they are together at ones expense (gaining something from one another for only themselves) no, THEY WERE MADLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. Something to note here is that there is barely ANY villain couple or ANY VILLAINS who are like this, let alone love each other for the sake of it instead of a "selfish love relationship and then one gets redeemed " situation (im looking at the mayor of paris from miraculous ladybug). So that, THAT RIGHT THERE, would have been a brilliant idea and brings something new and fresh to the table. Not only that, it is so brilliant that it would have respected all of the male/female antagonists we had for the past 100 years with the company. It is also A RISK. Walt was all about taking risks, even when his company would have floundered at the expense of making art. Snow White for example had a lot of money put into it that if it failed, well Disney would not exist in this timeline so to speak. So taking that risk is also RESPECTING Walt's legacy in a really good way.

I personally just see this as a fun way to explore their characters, especially when you can reflect their characters off of our main characters, Asha and Star (boy), if you want to of course. I can imagine Magnifico kinda be like Gaston from beauty and the beast with some Frollo flare to it (not the lust thing tho but yk what I'm getting at) and Amaya can be like Ursala or Gothal. Plus, it works as a power balance. In the original concept, Amaya was the potion maker while Magnifico does all of the magic. Its honestly a fun way to play with power set ups. Magnifico can just be for show and Amaya can just be a drug dealer (or basically Ursala).

But NOPE. WE HAD TO SHIT ON WALTS LEGACY TO GET THOSE SHINY DOLLAR SIGNS $$$$$$$$$$$$$

Here is the thing: I can get over Star Boy not being in the film, like I get it. We gotta have that girl power in Disney movies now, and they have to be emotionless people. But a Disney power couple? WHAT THE HELL??? LEGIT THE BEST IDEA YOU HAVE EVER HAD IN 100 YEARS. AND YOU GOT RID OF IT BECAUSE WE CAN'T TAKE RISKS ANYMORE??? BUT WALT WOULD HAVE TAKEN IT. YOU WANT TO RESPECT HIS LEGACY? THEN TAKE THE RISK TO DO SO YOU SELFISH, INSUFFERABLE, PIECES OF SHI-

(This section was removed because I went a little crazy there. Sorry about that. I'm not sure how I can transition into the rewrite section, again, soooooo here:)

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How I would rewrite the characters

There is no wrong or right way of rewriting a character, especially when a lot of people interpret them in different ways, and that is completely fine!

This will also fall into somewhat Asha's character and she will be mentioned to fit what I am going for with the characters. I will also leave out what they both do to the wishes since I am making a whole reimagined scene and it is going to include what they do to the wishes there. It will leave out some stuff I had with it here, but I will do my best interpritation of the characters the best I can, even when I can't really say much about it :)

Magnifico:

🌟 For starters, right off the bat, he does not have any of that sort of backstory they gave him for the original. For what I am going for, his backstory will not fit his reasonings for what I am going for, especially for his character.

🌟 He is more on par with the original personality from the original storyboard, specifically this one:

(This also goes for Amaya too personality wise)

🌟 Something that is very different from a lot of villains is that he has sympathetic traits. Although he has more negative traits than positive, he has more of a caring side. Mainly to Amaya, but Asha as well. When Amaya found Asha at their door steps (they aren't holding me hostage as I write out this specific part guys, I swear) at first he saw her as an opportunity to boost his and his wife's popularity that would have other people come more to their kingdom (its more of like they are seeing their "generosity" side and dismiss the problems the kingdom has). But as she continued to live with her adoptive parents, Magnifico became pretty close to Asha. Its mainly because of her passion to what she strives to be, to be like him. Probably feeding into his ego, but you know, nice to know he cares.

🌟 Just because he treats Amaya and Asha well, doesn't mean that the kingdom gets that same treatment. He doesn't care about the people at all. He actually has enjoyment when he hurts or breaks people's dreams. He gets all excited about it and you guys can ask him why he finds enjoyment out of it cause idk it would be more fun that way and gives you guys the chance to interact with him :D

🌟 The wishes boost his powers temporarily. It fades away after either a few days or hours. When his powers are boosted, he has more control over the people. And, to who he consumes the wishes of, can see through their perspective for a little while. It also makes civilians more compliment with him and not question his authority. This does not work with people who have not given up their wishes though. Only to people who have already given up their wishes. He can also make people forget certain memories (that might be Amaya's thing though but I'm not too sure) and can put on much more longer "light shows" (think on the level of: Playing with the Big Boys, but more flashy and crazier). He can also manipulate his surroundings with images, but not at a physical level. (Like hallucinations so to speak)

🌟 His powers without the wishes are more of what he uses to do simple things or put on small light shows. Not as flashy than ones when he has his powers boosted, but he puts on the smaller ones to "gain more people to comply when they have to give up their wishes", one might say, inspire them to do so. He also uses it to help Asha practice with magic (She can't even do magic STFU I KNOW.) It also can be used to take desires that you have deep in your heart.

🌟 If hair jell were to exist in his time period, he would eat it with no regrets (Amaya would make it so he can eat it without getting hurt)🔥

🌟 When he consumes a stars powers, he legit goes insane and can shape shift like one, but more corrupt with no consistancy to what he turns into since he legit gone insane. With a star, a star can shapeshift to whatever it wants or to express it's emotions. With him, it is all over the place. He can't control it.

🌟 Like Frollo, he tortures anyone who is against him, and will not hesitate to take it to the extreme if needed too (or that he wants to, to please himself).

🌟 What his wife says or does, he will willingly go through with it. After all, he loves her with all his heart.

🌟 He can't let Asha out of the castle often to make sure that the people will not take advantage of her generosity (thats what he thinks though, in reality everyone is just scared of the royals.. most of them at least) or learn-

Magnifico then breaks the forth dimention and destroys my house.

Ah...right...

🌟 He is such a silly goober!!1!11!1!11!1 o(*￣▽￣*)o

(He told me to write that or else he will kill my dog and cat. HELP ME PLEASE-)

Amaya

🌟 For starters, she is much more involved in the story than she is in the original. She doesn't have a backstory like what Magnifico had in the original, nor does she need too. Not sure how they would meet at the moment, but I'd like to think that they met and then were like: love at first sight and became more silly as time went on...including their insanity <3

🌟 As I said for Magnifico, she is more on par with the concept version personality wise. But she is more of an Ursala and likes to put herself as the victim to get more people to feel bad for her (MANIPULATION AT ITS FINEST 😜)

🌟 Just like Magnifico, she has sympathetic traits. And she only has it, because of our main character Asha! She just found her one day at the castle doors. She didn't understand why, but like Magnifico, only let her stay for as long as she did to post her popularity with the commoners, and grew closer to her as she became more of a mother figure to Asha. (Ruh Ro, anyone sensing Mother Gothal vibes?) Unlike Magnifico though, she uses her sympathetic traits to get people to comply with their ways better. Her main trait she is good at looking at the person's situation and understand it well, or aka being empathetic. She uses that to her advantage when manipulating them to do whatever she pleases.

🌟 She is more of a witch than anything. I imagine her somewhat like Ursala (yes a heavy load of Ursala), Evil Queen, and Yzma (Emperor's New Groove) when in terms to what they make. She does make a lot of poisons to use if anyone is getting a little too close to the close and they gotta...TAKE THEM OUT without anyone knowing. She can also use it for like a form of medicine too.

🌟 Some potions, like turning people into animals or certain poisons, requires people's desire. More so with turning people into animals as a form of punishment. She can also use her craft at potion making to have her wield magic for a certain amount of time WHEN NEEDED. (Gee I wonder what she will use that for). It can also be used like a drug, or to get someone to comply with what they want a little better than Magnifico. She can put on pretty shows too, but more smoke themed and is better at manipulating her surroundings.

🌟 Although Amaya would teach Asha how to make potions, she worries that the people of Rosas would take advantage of her kindness and use the skills that she would teach Asha to their advantage and form a revolt to take them down. (Which really, with them ruling, who can blame them?)

🌟 I would say she is more of a planner than Magnifico. She plans ahead and makes sure everything is in line with what they want and makes plan Bs or Cs even Ds in case anything would go wrong. Asha actually gained that trait from her believe it or not!

🌟 Magnifico is more reckless than his wife. Amaya is more so less confronting and tries to keep up their image. She actually have certain gestures that Magnifico would take notice too. And since he trusts her a lot, he complies and lets Amaya take lead in certain situations.

🌟 Yes...she also finds enjoyment of seeing people getting tortured. They actually made up a game on how they would torture a certain civilian 💀

🌟 When it comes to how she treats the people of Rosas, she is as I said, less confronting and puts on more of a fake smile and gaslights everyone that their kingdom is fine or whatever (It is not gaslighting when it is telling the truth. I feel so offended right know! DUDE LADY CHILL I AM CREATING YOU RN AND YOU ARE ALREADY TRYING TO GASLIGHT ME WTF😭)

🌟 When she has a star's powers, I feel like it would let her create whatever the fuck she wants at an insanity level. Wishing stars create items that would help users on their journey, so with her, she can use it to her advantage. Also she becomes just as insane as her husband. It also gives a difference in terms to what they would do when they have a star's powers. Magnifico would be able to shapeshift at a corrupt level, and Amaya can manipulate her surroundings that would become reality so to speak at an insane level. I chose this one since it fits her not being more confrontant while Magnifico is more so on that. She be lurking in the shadows like a cat :3

🌟 How she knows so much about the people, is by her cat! I think the cat would be called Custos. Idk the name yet, might go with the concept version of the name.

🌟 I learn more about my prey before I strike at their weakest point. (Nah that's very catnap of you. Unless you want to fall asleep for 100 years, I suggest you choose your words carefully. Bruh alright lady💀) And yes she wrote that in...

🌟 She is such a silly lil guy...AMAYA STOP LET ME BE SILLY U SON OF A BI-😡

Erm anyways...(she tried to eat my dog and steal my cat. GRRRR)

I feel like it would be fun if it is just expanding their empire for their main goal or taking over the world. Kind of like this song as their modivation:

I want this to be their goal since it kind of feels like some of the old Disney Villains, for me at least :3 (And I am having WAYYYY to much fun with their characters already hehe)

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Final Thoughts

On a final note, I will mention that there is a possibility that all of this wont make it into the final version. And in all honesty, I'm actually shocked I was able to compose all of this together without mentioning what they do with the wishes, like what- 😭

I also am still debating if Amaya and Magnifico made the kingdom or it was passed down through generations. Don't know yet tbh :^

Also, Amaya was sort of difficult for me to jot down since I didn't know how to get her into the story, and I think I am slowly, but surely getting there :D

I also really tried to make it different and fresh from the other versions and I am very excited to show that "I DECIDE WHAT EVERYONE DESERVES" when it is done (it is now We decide what everyone Deserves).

You can also ask both Amaya and Magnifico questions regarding the info you know about them now and about how they feel with the other versions of them if you want to of course (and I can show off their designs HEHHEH)

And yes...I had too much fun with writing out how they would interact with the post. DW, they wont interact here in the Final Thoughts section hehe ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I might also do a post on Asha since I have been pretty quiet on her character design/rewrite and another post about Star Boy since I wanna get more in depth with the ideas of Wishing Stars in my AU.

Speaking of Au...

what to call this AU of mine hmmmmm

I'll go with The Kingdom of Roses and Thorns, or TKoRaT. Feels fitting to me, at least for what I am going for story wise and character wise. Might change it since I can't stick with one thing, but rn it rolls off the tongue nicely.

Until then, I hope you have a great day and I hope Magnifico and Amaya don't steal your dreams 💀

@oh-shtars @annymation @chillwildwave @signed-sapphire

(They are thinking of working with your versions of Magnifico and Amaya oh boy not good 💀)

[mikuni14]

Unintentional Love Story Ep 5 & 6

And again, high quality episodes, with a billion emotions, laughter and feelings. This series is a gift! ✨

TaeJoon is probably on a perpetual emotional merry-go-round, he seems to have gone through all the stages from the euphoria of having a crush to despair, drama of rejection, pouting, gloom, depression, acceptance of the situation, tentative hope, and back to euphoria of having a crush. AND I'M SITTING RIGHT THERE, WITH HIM. I felt happy, giddy, then literally had chest pains from just the fact, that TaeJoon is sad. Craaaazy. 🥳

I really like how perfectly having a crush on someone is shown in this series, even including misunderstandings. All the scenes between TaeJoon and WongYoung could take place in any scenario and in real life, they are so universal and so well done. I also really liked the struggles of people in love who are friends, both long-term and those who just met. These fears that “I may not get a lover and lose a friend if I confess” are also very valid...

What I like the most is the kind of "innocence" and "purity" of these feelings and behaviors (although I don't want to use these words to imply that other types of romance are "dirty"). The way they worry about their beloved, the way they want to take care of them, all those little gestures and words that indicate that they only want the best for the other person, and the genuinely hurt feelings when all those gestures and words are rejected. It's just... it gives me such great pleasure and pure joy to watch TaeJoon being in love. Everything he does, what he says, how he looks at WongYoung, how he tries not to be pushy, but he doesn't want (can't?) hide his feelings.. 🥺

When it comes to love, WonYoung acts as if he grew up in a hidden village somewhere in the mountains, never had any sex education, learned everything  about love while watching romantic series with his grandma and never, absolutely never heard of things like homosexuality. He’s like 👀 every time it comes up, idk, maybe it’s endearing to people, I find it annoying, he’s an educated man in his late twenties, from the city, it could be cute only in case of a high school love! It’s not even a case of having a gay panic, or discovering his sexuality, he literally acts like men loving men is news to him lmao

DongHee is just great, this actor's comedy talent is 10/10, I love him so much. I still don't feel this romance with HoTae, there is no chemistry between them as far as I’m concerned, DongHee acts like he REALLY wants nothing to do with him and HoTae acts like it's just a game to him and he’s so immature. I just don't see them being serious about each other. But that might just be me. 🤷‍♀️

Wonderful series, wonderful love story, so why the dead-fish kiss????? I'm sitting there, high on feelings, super happy, tension grows, I'm so nervous and blushing and then THIS. The mood immediately deflated. A dead-fish kiss can ruin even the best, most delicious romance for me. I just immediatelly start thinking that the actors don’t feel comfortable with each other, that they think that kissing the other man is gross. It’s 2023, IS KISSING REALLY THAT HARD???? In Our Dating Sim they somehow had no problems with it!!!! Sorry to be so angry about it, I guess I’m being just mad for nothing, because the series is so lovely, but I feel like they're bringing dead-fish kisses and even angled kisses back from the dead this year, and there's really no excuse for that. I'm starting to catch myself expecting the actors to not deliver the pshysical aspect of the romance and every good kiss is a surprise, when in fact it should be the norm. 😤 *sigh* maybe they’ll improve later, who knows...

[sarahgroom]

So I'm just going to talk. This is going to be long and depressing so just hang in tight or go elsewhere.

I don't know where to start. Uhh. I guess my relationship? Or what was my relationship. I ruined it, again, but it was a valid reason this time. Its so I can focus on my mental health because I'm doing really badly but she just doesn't seem to get it. I'm not sure how to help her see. I've just been pushing her away. I'm being so nasty to her and I wish I could say I hate it but I'm just numb. I don't feel anything over this. I don't want to make her feel bad but I can't seem to control myself and it won't stop and so I just need her to go for a while. She might be going forever soon and I'm kind of scared about that. She knows everything about me. All there is to know. She knows my insecurities and my fears and what makes me happy and my problems and how I work. Or at least I thought she knew how I worked. I'm not sure. Anyway, apart from ruining my relationship (which I believe is the best one I'll ever have. She's the most important person in my life and losing her is the upmost pain I've ever felt) I'm also ruining my parents relationship. He's not my dad. He's my stepdad. My parents divorced when I was 6. Funnily enough my little sister is 6 whilst they're divorcing. (Maybe divorcing. I haven't decided whether I believe it or not yet). But basically they're splitting up because I'm the worst daughter ever and I cause arguments and everyone hates me :) okay no this isn't entirely true but me and him argue alot and I've had depression for a while now (started when he joined the household) and its gotten worse over the years to the point I'm violently numb and I have alot of issues that I think could be fixed by me ending it. I feel bad for my mum because she loves him but they argue alot too and have agreed they make each other miserable. I don't want my sister to grow up like I did but is it better having a mostly absent father or parents who constantly argue? (He's also a narcissistic parent and is emotionally abusive. Or so I believe.) I don't know how to feel about any of this but oh well. What happens happens and I can't do anything about it.

[ringsfullofdiamond]

9/13/22

i feel like most times i journal, it’s just when i’m feeling negative or sad, and i wonder if that’s a good or bad thing. i’ll ask my therapist.

i’ve had a rough few months. i just can’t stop having my mind on 100%. i think it’s because i’m going outside of my comfort zone, and it’s quite uncomfortable and painful. i think that is really why. 

1. i’m moving out, and i’ve told mom. she’s taken it pretty ok. i also ran into aunt and uncle with justin, and that shocked me. but it turned out ok too. it’s just a lot of discomfort i guess, because of the way my family is around him. 

2. investment property. this has been draining me too. i’ve been putting a lot of pressure on myself to get into the market and buy an investment property, b/c i’ve been feeling envious of megan and also wanting to put my money into use, so she inspires me as well. i just get into this internal race with myself, and i want to slow down. 

i’ve been having anxiety, texting a crisis line for anxiety. it helps. i saw a new therapist this week, and i’m pretty hopeful with her. she told me to write down what success means to me, and i think this is pretty relevant to the things that are making me anxious.

to me, success is... being happy. not caring what others think. living my life unapologetically. minding my own business. building my wealth. being in a nurturing relationship with justin. having clear boundaries with my family while also having a loving relationship with them too. doing things because i want to do them, not because i feel like i have to. feeling confident in my relationships. in myself. not seeking external validation all the time. success is feeling inner peace with myself, and building my life to sustain that peace. which to me, is building my wealth and fostering healthy relationships with justin, my family, and friends. 

when dat asked me today if life has been okay, it kinda put me in my tracks. because i don’t really know? i feel like things are looking up for me mentally, but because it’s been rough for me lately, it doesn’t really feel that way. maybe i should write out what i’m grateful for:

1. mom took me moving out much, much better than i thought.

2. so close to being independent and living in my OWN space with justin. absolute freedom. 

3. i have a lot of money saved up, and i don’t give myself enough credit to really be proud of what i’ve been able to do for myself financially. i just compare my endpoint to megan’s and others, when really, i’ve helped with my parents’ mortgage for 3 years, saved up $65k in that amount of time, contributed to my 401ks, bought my dream car, and have a high paying job that makes me happy. i’m well ahead and on my journey, so i need to remember where i’ve started and how well i’m doing for myself. i’m proud of me. if 5th grade me were to see me now, she would be seriously taken aback. i’m attractive, well paid, in a loving relationship, and about to travel? meanwhile, 5th grade me was just this awkward, cute little kid who liked to draw. i’m doing a lot for myself.

4. fulfilling job with a supportive boss who wants the best for me and who i can really learn from

5. justin is a great partner

6. megan is my best friend who’s there for me always 

7. rani & ahran are my lovely friends who i miss hanging out with and getting good girl time in

8. i have access to free therapy through work, which i’m so lucky for

9. i’m entering a new phase in my life. i feel a bit lost and i’m really starting to confront things that i’ve hidden or tucked away, regarding my family & justin, but like veronna (therapist) said, it takes a long time to unpack and heal from those things. the way i grew up has engrained in me certain thoughts & a mindset, so it’ll take time to undo and grow from that. 

10. i’m doing the work to get better for myself. and i’m proud of me for that.

i’m going to try my best to take a breath and slow down. not overthink all at once and imagine the worst case scenarios for well... everything. my relationship with justin, my family, and my investment. take things one day at a time, and be kind to yourself. 

really, be kind to yourself.

imagine putting all of this pressure on 5th grade caroline. you have to tend to your inner child too, even though you’re doing grown up things.

everything will be okay. 

[kaihoku]

V17 - HAVING ISSUES, August, 1998

Our mind is an incredible space that occasionally needs housekeeping. Otherwise it'll become more and more cluttered and, well, things ain't gon'be pretty when it does.

~*~

Pretty often, I get letters from fans seeking advice. After reading them, it isn't difficult to see why they'd want to talk to someone about whatever issue it is they're having. But even if I were to put on my thinking cap and thought hard about how I could help, honestly, I could think of nothing. But somewhere within me, I felt that maybe that's okay. Because I didn't think the people who wrote in were really expecting me to do something about their issues anyway, and the real reason they wrote was to be able to come to a solution on their own. When someone wants to talk about whatever issues they are having with someone else, I think that most of the time, they are doing it in the hopes of getting the response they wanted all along. So what they are basically doing is seeking validation for whatever opinion or solution they've already come to.

Even for me, I realize that whenever I discuss personal issues with another person, the other person is usually someone who is already on the same page as I am to begin with. But when it comes to the matter of love, it's a little different. If I wanted somebody to understand what my feelings are, I'd seek out other guys among friends or those I'm acquainted with through work who are like me. But if it's the feelings of the other person in the relationship I'm trying to understand, I'd seek out ladies who are close to this other person and ask them instead.

When friends come to me wanting to talk about their issues, I'd try to give suggestions that come from my own perspective as much as possible. If the friend in need has reached rock bottom, I'd sink down there with them as I listened. If I didn't, there'd be no way I'd be able to empathize.

I've been having a hard time dealing with this major issue I've got for a few years now.  I guess it's gotten to a point where I was subconsiously sending SOS signals because friends who noticed would take me to the beach to surf or ask me out for a drink, and before I knew it, I was all right.  And when I realized I was out of the long, dark tunnel I was in, that's when it truly hit me how fortunate a guy I was. Not just in terms of having friends and people around me who care, but also in terms of non-tangible things like luck.

Looking back, there are many things that  I had a tough time going through but am also glad to have gone through. I'm not sure whether or not that makes me stronger as a person but I'm at least aware of what the pain I went through felt like.

The way they present themselves are sometimes different, but as a teenager, I've always been plagued by one issue after another. I suppose that's because I knew too little of the world back then and had yet to be hardened by experience and so, I was this kid who's perpetually confused and unsure of what to do. But the reality is, even as I gain experience as I grow older, new issues would just keep cropping up. I'm guessing this is how it'll always be and there's nothing I can do about it but be ready to face them as they come.

There are also times where we'd feel we've hit a wall. For example, when we develop feelings for someone else and find ourselves coming to a dead end not knowing what to do next. This is likely the time where we'd first realize the existence of the heart. The word "heart" itself isn't something we'd use or come across in our daily lives but the moment we fall in love with another person and become all sappy and romantic, we'd not only suddenly see and hear it everywhere, we'd also find ourselves using it all the time. In a way, its existence is kind of like God's, in that it's something we can neither perceive nor touch. But when we love someone, we can't help but want to get a clearer idea of what their heart feels like which I reckon maybe is why we tend to want to reach out to touch parts of them we consider an extension of it, like their hand or their hair or their body. Personally, I prefer somewhere below the neck rather than above it. And even though I'm calling whatever this thing is "heart," it doesn't actually have to be shaped like it.

You know how we describe people as having a big heart or a small one? I reckon it's true that things like the shape, hypothetical mass and content of an individual’s heart differ from person to person. Because mine somehow feels like a pebble–tiny and hard–which is why I always try to use both my head and body as much as possible to compensate instead.

The heart, I’m sure, is something we keep in a semi-translucent box that we protect with everything we’ve got, so much so that not even the great Arsene Lupin III can just easily make grabby hands at and disappear with like all the precious stones he's stolen.

-mishuku-

[ad-sanandum]

death and relief

tw; going to be a heavy topic. these words have been eating away at me for the past, i don't really know when - i guess these thoughts just slowly came to mind and it's hard to pinpoint exactly when i started feeling this way.

it. is. suffocating. i cannot breathe, i feel like i have once again, regressed to a little girl. when you had to stay at the covid isolation facility for 2 weeks, i felt this sense of... relief. for the first time in my life. not exactly happiness (that would be a stretch), but i just felt like a 100 pound weight had been lifted off my chest. i could breathe! i felt free. i could do whatever i wanted, without you watching and questioning every thing i did. and when you came back, i felt SO guilty for not feeling happy. i felt like my personal vacation had been cut short. and trust me, i felt so guilty feeling this way.

yesterday, i had a dream that you died. i cried so much. i woke up, on the verge of crying. but.. i didn't exactly feel a sense of relief when the nightmare was over. when i dreamt that my mother had died, i felt this huge and inexplicable wave of relief upon waking up. i was crying when i woke up, but i felt extremely relieved and thankful that she was still around. when i saw her in the morning, it was like looking at her with a fresh set of lens. i was so thankful and glad to see her well and living. weirdly though, when i woke up from that dream last night, i felt sad, yes, but i didn't feel the same way i did from the dream about my mother. why?

please trust me when i say that i am not proud of feeling this way. i am ashamed of feeling like this, i really am. it's something that i'll probably keep to myself for a long, long time to come. but i don't think i'm lying to myself when i say that i think i'll feel relieved when you pass on. and please don't get me wrong, i love you. i do. i have very fond and dear memories growing up with you. you love me a lot, and i do know it. honest. and i will miss you so very much when you leave. which is why i've been praying for your (and everyone else's) salvation, so that death will not be the end and that we can meet again with Jesus. even though things are strained between us now, but please know that i still love you very much. which is why it pains me so much to even think that i'll be relieved when you're gone.

but it's the truth. i think this really hit me when i watched that episode of Stranger Things when Vecna confronted Max as to how she felt relieved when Billy died. and i think that's when i was forced to confront my subconscious thoughts - and that's when they became part of my conscious thoughts (and it's hard to run away from them).

i remember there was a period of time when i felt really stifled and sick of going over to mama's place everyday to have lunch and dinner. i knew she loved me, and i loved her a lot back then too, but i just felt so suffocated and i dreaded having to go over there. even though i was a socially awkward and soft-spoken teenage girl, i still wanted my own freedom and choice to eat whatever, whenever. after a while, i gradually went over lesser and lesser, and then i stopped. sometimes i do struggle with this - should i have chosen to spend more time with her, go over more, or heck, everyday even? but honestly, looking back, if i was forced to go over everyday until she passed away, i'm afraid that i would feel more relieved than sad when she passed away.

these are heavy topics, and i wish i could talk to James, my counselor at KTPH, about this. but i've been doing really well and i haven't met him at all since the year started. he taught me to work though my emotions, and that they are completely valid. i used to have this habit of shutting off emotions that i felt were 'bad'. maybe i should listen to them this time.. i don't know. i'm just exhausted, suffocated, and i want out.

[starsvault]

Monday, 6 June 2022.

How do you live knowing that you don't matter to anyone?

Not that you expect someone would put you first in spite of everything, I just wonder how it feels like to be valid. To be accepted. To not be ridiculed, by your own mind, or by anyone else.

How people made me feel during my adolescent days have very much influenced how I treat my thoughts as I grow up. And eventually, I'm used to it. To the fact that I don't actually matter. To the fact that my thoughts aren't making sense. To the fact that everything I feel isn't right. To the fact that I, myself, am nothing. To the way I should just say yes to everything, because how I feel, what I think, none of those really matter to anyone to begin with.

But to me, I matter. If only I could just do things without having to feel anything at all. Everything in my head gives me discomfort but when I blurt them out none of them actually matters. My thoughts, my hurt, all that I went through. Not to me. Not to anyone.

All this led to the thoughts that I worth nothing. It doesn't matter that I keep suffering, as long as I please you. It doesn't matter that everything is painful as long as it satisfies you.

Are you happy with that?

Me? No, of course not, when have I ever. But it doesn't matter right? No one this ever does before so don't suddenly act like it does today after I said it out loud. But are you happy with all that I do? Does it satisfy you?

I did went through those times. I can't say it's over now, but it's very much less that it was before. But everything in my head isn't healing. It keeps beating me up over and over, recalling bad memories and same old feelings of being unwanted. "Ah, yes... All this means nothing that I never actually matter."ㅡit haunts me over and over again, everytime I try to stand up, everytime I try to give myself some credit, everything I try to save my pathetic self from falling apart.

I cut things off, I push people away, knowing too damn well that I am not worth for them in any way. I won't matter anyway, I will never be good enough for anyone at all. Not even to me. They're gonna invalidate me again of course, because not even I can validate myself. To begin with, I was never matter. That's a fact and that's how I've been feeling for the past twenty years of my life.

I don't know what's right, or what's wrong. All I know is that I'm hurt and I feel very much like shit and it's all my fault. I was never okay but I don't know in which part did I went wrong, and which part is broken. I just hate myself so much to the point that if I were someone else I would choke her to death just for existing.

Everything is just so damn painful and the only thing to stop is just to stop me, I guess. Maybe that's a good thing that I'm alive as me and not anyone elseㅡbecause if I were then maybe this self would die sooner than expected.

Why bother trying? How you feel won't make any change in the world. Why bother trying? People only care what does them good. Why bother trying, when you know that you'll never be good enough?

by ssspaced.

[letarasstuff]

Girl meets World

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and is based on a show named 'Boy meets world', tho I never watched it so I went solely with the summary from said anon. I hope you still like it :)

Summary: Spencer's daughter is not ready for her first kiss. But are her classmates fine with that?

Warnings: Mean kids, angst but fluff at the end

Wordcount: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨ ___________________________

Being on the not so popular side in school is not particularly hard, but it doesn’t exactly make things easier for (Y/N). That’s why Spencer was happy to hear from her invitation to a classmate’s birthday party.

“You call me and I’ll get you. I don’t mind if it’s in ten minutes or in two hours. Whenever you feel uncomfortable or you are done with peopling, it’s fine wanting to leave. Ok?” Her father tells her, sitting with her in the car in front of the birthday girl’s house. “Understood. Thank you, Dad. I see you no later than ten. Love you!”

Off she goes. Spencer watches (Y/N) going up the path to the front door, a bright colored bag with a gift in her hand. He considers driving up to Penelope’s apartment, which is only five minutes away, and cries with her over his daughter growing up with a tub of ice cream in both their hands. A second later the father puts his plan into motion.

Meanwhile (Y/N) is inside with a bunch of people from different classes. All those kids already make her nervous. But she is determined to make it through the night. After all, the girl doesn’t want to be seen as a baby that gets overwhelmed by a room full of human beings.

At first it isn’t that bad. (Y/N) finds a few classmates she has a class or two with and they converse. Until someone screams “Let’s play Spin-The-Bottle”. Now the eleven year old kind of feels like she is on a movie or a show. What’s next, she has to kiss the boy she has a crush on since the beginning of the school year?

Still all of the children gather around in a circle and a bottle is placed in the middle. “The rules are simple”, a kid explains, “The bottle chooses two people. They get five minutes in that closet over there.” Right, just like she predicted. (Y/N) is hesitant. They are too young to do something like that. Once again she doesn’t want to be the party pooper, so she sits down between two classmates.

Every time the bottle spins a dread weighs down in her stomach. (Y/N) is only eleven years old. Is she even ready to have her first kiss in a closet? Shouldn’t it be out of love, willently without anybody forcing two random people to such an act?

Seems like the others think these rules are fair and square. Everybody is participating with the utmost joy. Maybe it’s just her, who grew up with romantic novels written by people who not even her Grandmother witnessed alive being read to her for bed night.

Deep into calculating the probability of the bottle pointing to her, it needs a few shouts and a nudge to get (Y/N) out of her head. “Looks like it’s your turn to go into the closet”, her neighbor says to her, gesturing to the bottle, which in fact points towards her. The girl swears that the color of her cheeks is even darker than a tomato.

Shyly she gets up to the wardrobe. The remaining girls nod encouragingly while the next person is chosen by the bottle. Luckily it’s not the boy she has a crush on, this would be like in a fanfiction, too much like a cliché.

Just a few seconds later she finds herself in the closet. Is it appropriate to make a joke about coming out of the closet?

“Well, here we are”, the other boy says. (Y/N) thinks his name is Tyler. “Yeah, I guess.” She shuffles her foot and scratches her neck. “So, shouldn’t we kiss or something?”

Geez, that boy is out for action. “Uhm, what about if we do not? I’m not ready for that and no offence but I want my first kiss with somebody special and you are just a boy from my grade and there are no feelings between us and I need that special moment, because I’m a hopeless romantic.” The girl says all of this in one breath, making her speech pace compete with her father’s.

But Tyler smiles. “It’s okay. I get it, really. I won’t tell anyone. We can just sit here and talk until they knock. How does that sound?” (Y/N) smiles and nods. They sit down on some boxes and just laugh quietly about anything and everything they tell each other.

As soon as they have to come out of the closet, the other kids bombard them with questions. Tyler shuts all of them with one answer up. “A lady and gentleman are quiet and enjoy themselves.”

The rest of the evening goes relatively uneventful. There is a nice buffet and after that the kids watch a couple of movies until the first parents show up to pick up their children. Spencer is relieved to see his daughter so energetic and happy after the party.

“And then we played spin the bottle like in a teen movie. Dinner was also really nice and I think I made one or two more friends. Isn’t it amazing, Dad?” He answers her enthusiastically that he is in fact very happy for her. And Spencer is. But it kind of also implies that she grows up, a fact he doesn’t like.

The party was on a Saturday night and now it’s Monday, the first day after it. (Y/N) is ecstatic to go. In her mind her classmates finally accepted her for who she is. But as soon as she enters the school yard the kids from her grade look weirdly at her.

Immediately the girl’s mind goes into panic. Has she something on her face? Is it the way she dresses? Or is it some- The kiss. Or technically the not kiss.

“Hey Reid, I heard you are unkissed. What about I show you in the janitor’s room? Do you also want rose petals and candles laying around?” Someone starts to taunt her. The bystanding classmates begin to laugh.

(Y/N) has to listen to similar comments for the rest of the school day. A few boys from her science class make kissing noises whenever the teacher isn’t near them. Tyler once catches her eyes, mouthing an apology. But it’s not relevant to her at this point. The only thing that counts right now is getting through the last class without breaking down in front of the others. She can’t show them any more weakness.

When his daughter comes home, Spencer is already there. Hotch gave them an early off, since the last few cases were draining for all of them.

Instead of greeting him with a smile and the definition of happiness she enters the apartment with the biggest frown the father has ever seen on her face. “Hey Dad”, (Y/N) flatly says before disappearing into her room.

Confused, he assumes that she just has to do a load of homework, so he lets the girl be for the next couple hours. But as the clock is pushing near dinner time, he begins to worry.

“Sweetheart, I thought about cooking pasta for tonight. Do you wanna help me try Uncle Dave’s new recipe?” He asks at her closed door, respecting her privacy. There is no answer, just a sniffle from the other side. This alarms Spencer. “Sweetheart, may I come in?”

A few seconds pass until a faint “Yes” makes its way to his ears. Inside (Y/N) sits on her bed, her eyes are red from crying. “Oh Sweetheart, don’t be upset. Whatever it is, we can fix it. Tell me, what’s wrong?” The young doctor tries to console her. It’s always more difficult to calm your own family down than any stranger he meets on a case.

“I-it’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m upset over this.” (Y/N) frantically wipes the leftover tears away. “Hey, don’t say that. Your feelings are valid. You can be upset about anything you want, ok? If you don’t want to tell me about it, it’s fine. But I promise you that I’ll value whatever you say.”

The girl nods, finding her composure. “I- At the party we played Spin-The-Bottle and whoever was chosen had to go into the closet with the second one and kiss. I-I was in there with a boy named Tyler, b-but I told him I wasn’t ready. H-he was really sweet about it and respected my reasons. Dad, I’m not old enough and it wouldn’t be anything like I imagined my first kiss would be. But now the whole school or what feels like the whole school makes fun of me a-and I was so embarrassed.”

Spencer can feel her pain. Kids can be worse than professional torturers, he witnessed both first hand. “Oh Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’ll think of something about it. How do you feel about coming with me into the office? The others are missing you, especially Emily. She has a ton of pictures of Sergio she wants to show you. And for tonight we get your favorite take out and watch a movie of your choice, ok?”

(Y/N) smiles at the thought of the pictures she is going to see. “Yes! Can we get pizza and watch Lion King?” Even though it will be the fifth time they watch this movie this month, Spencer is happy to do anything his daughter wants. She has him wrapped around her finger.

So not long after this heartfelt conversation they sit on the sofa in the living room, crying their eyeballs out after Mufasa died. He deserved better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

Spencer Reid x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[romioneficfest]

Dreams

Title: Dreams

Prompt: Day 9 - head boy Ron/head girl Hermione, Shell Cottage

Author: 

Rating: T

Brief Summary: the line between dreams and reality can sometimes blur in brilliant ways

Any Trigger/Content warnings: brief mentions of nightmares from torture at Malfoy Manor, nightmares

“For the thousandth time, Ron, you can’t give Adam Davies detention just so he can’t play in the match Saturday.”

“Oh really?” Ron throws a challenging smirk her way as he turns around to walk backwards down the hallway that leads to their quarters and tugs at his robes. “What does this badge say?”

Hermione rolls her eyes, fighting back a grin as she retorts, “Just because you’re Head Boy does not give you carte blanche to assign detention to everyone on the Ravenclaw quidditch team.”

“Not everyone,” Ron protests, unlocking the door to their private common room with a casual flick of his wrist, neither of them breaking stride as they enter and toss their bags aside. “Just Davies.”

“No.”

“C’mon, it’s criminal for a third-year to be that good at seeker.” Ron flops onto the couch, tugging at Hermione’s hand until she’s standing between his knees.

“Oh, really?” It’s her turn to raise an eyebrow at him as her hands settle on his shoulders. “And is that the same stance that you took when Harry was winning Quidditch Cups for Gryffindor in our early years?”

Ron’s arms slide around her back and pull her closer, but she resists the impulse to entangle herself with him on the couch. “Of course not, but Gryffindor is the superior house in every way.” Hermione scoffs.

“That’s not a very diplomatic way of thinking.”

“And yet, here sit the Head Boy and Girl, both of Gryffindor. So explain that, brightest witch of our age.” He’s grinning at her now, and what’s left of her resolve is sure to crumble at any moment.

“You are absolutely insufferable,” she says, more to remind herself than to berate him. “You know that, right?”

“It’s part of my charm.” He leans up the miniscule amount required to brush his lips against her neck. “And you know you love it,” he adds, his voice low and husky against her ear. Involuntarily, a soft moan escapes Hermione as his hands find the gap between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her skirt, his fingers just brushing the edge of her knickers.

“How much time do we have before dinner?” she asks breathily, her fingers digging into the knot of his tie and pulling to loosen it.

“Enough.” The way Ron nearly growls the word at her is her undoing, and Hermione hurries to close the gap between them, crashing her lips down to his. His tie hits the floor first, but the subsequent movement to undo the buttons of his uniform shirt is halted by his hands under her skirt, his fingers moving skillfully and distractingly against her—

Hermione woke with a gasp, sitting up as she frantically tried to make sense of her surroundings in the dark. The lingering pain against her throat and the sound of the crashing waves outside quickly reminded her where they were, and more importantly, why.

“ ‘ermione?” Ron’s sleepy voice sounded from somewhere to her left. “You alright?”

“Yes,” she sighed. She could feel her cheeks reddening at the memory of what she had been dreaming about and was suddenly grateful for the darkness of the room. “Yes, I’m fine. It was—just a dream.”

The chair creaked as Ron stood, and she could see him moving towards her, his tall frame dimly illuminated by the moonlight from the room’s only window. “Nightmare?” he asked softly as he sat down at the edge of her bed and reached for her hand.

“No, actually. We were...um.” She hesitated before revealing a true, but incomplete, account of her dream. “We were Head Boy and Girl. You and I.”

Ron laughed softly, his thumb brushing gently against the back of her hand. “Well, I believe half of that.”

“It’s silly. Sorry I woke you,” she said sheepishly.

“Don’t be sorry. Honestly, just happy to hear that you were dreaming about anything besides…” He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish the sentence to make his meaning clear. She had been having nightmares about her torture since they arrived at Shell Cottage nearly a week ago now. “Well, was I a good Head Boy?” he asked teasingly.

She rolled her eyes at him as she had in her dream. “We were arguing about the validity of you giving detention to Ravenclaw’s best Quidditch player to keep him out of a match.”

“Let me guess, you weren’t in favor?” Hermione shook her head with a chuckle. “You must have really been giving me what-for, as flushed as your cheeks are,” Ron noted. Hermione reflexively pulled her hand from his to cover her face.

“Are they?” she asked, though she could feel the tell-tale heat under her palm. “Must have been madder at you than I thought.”

Ron smiled at her. “Sounds about right. Who won? The row, I mean.”

“Well, er…” Despite their growing closeness over the last week—closeness was an understatement, really; Ron had barely left her side—Hermione was hesitant to tell him what had really gotten her so worked up. After all, there had as yet been no kisses, certainly no wandering hands, and the feelings that she had long suspected, and harbored herself, were still no more than implied. But after what had happened, and what was still to come, how many chances were they really going to have? “Actually, I believe it was a tie. We got a bit...distracted.”

Ron’s eyes widened just slightly enough for her to realize that he understood what she hadn’t said. “Did we?” Hermione nodded.

“Do you think that...if there weren’t a war, that…” She trailed off and focused her eyes on the knit blanket that covered her, unable to meet his suddenly burning gaze. “Maybe this year would have been something like that?”

“I think that…” Ron scooted closer to her, and she felt her heart picking up speed. “War or no war, we could still have...something. Like that.”

Hermione nodded, and he was so close to her now that she could feel his breath against her lips. “Please,” she whispered.

Ron leaned forward to close the last of the distance between them, and his lips met hers for a long-awaited kiss. It was so gentle, compared to what they had been up to in her dream, but it still sent shivers all the way down to her toes. This, this one was perfect.

This one was real.

[helioleti]

I've been rewatching ATLA several times lately and this time I especially ended up wondering a lot about Iroh and Ozai's past and characters in general. I just can't help but think it weird that Ozai is the ultimate trashbag of a humanbeing while Iroh ended up preaching harmony and peace. It just doesn't make any sense. These guys are brothers. They were brought up by the same parents, in the same fascist imperialistic nation, they were taught the same values growing up. You're trying to tell me the difference is that Iroh was destined to be the person he eventually came to be, but Ozai was just born evil? No, I don't think so.

I have two hot takes that I'm gonna elaborate:

1. Iroh had a guidance Ozai lacked

2. Ozai was the less favored son

(Disclaimer: I haven't read the comics yet so I don't know how deep they've already gone into this subject at some point. I'm trying to interpret and analyze the stuff that I got from the animated series only. If anything I say contradicts what has already been confirmed in the comics, feel free to correct me.)

Hear me out. Iroh wasn't born a saint. Everyone is aware of this, especially Iroh himself. He laid siege to Ba Sing Se for 2 years, costing the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom thousands of lives. Everyone knew that if the Fire Nation took over the capital, it meant almost ultimate victory for the Fire Nation. He even went as far as making a offhand sadistic jokes about burning the city to the ground in that letter to Zuko and Azula.

Iroh acknowledges it himself; He was a different man.

So what changed?

Yes, his son died. It broke and shattered him from the inside, making him drop all efforts to continue fighting in the war. To continue what had been his lifelong ambition, what he believed to be his destiny. He had a literal vision about taking over Ba Sing Se when he was a child, and that had been what he'd been pursuing ever since. But the death of his son managed to crumble all of that into nothingness. How is that possible?

Don't get me wrong. I think it's completely valid. I just don't understand how Lu Ten and Iroh could've had such a loving and caring relationship in the first place, when that's clearly something unusual among the royal family. Ozai burned and banished Zuko without a second thought, not to mention all the other shit he did to him growing up. Ozai didn't give two shits about Azula either, he only ever intended to use her as his weapon. Doesn't seem too surprising, if you ask me. Azulon didn't hesitate to demand that Ozai kill his own son if he wanted the throne. That's the man that raised Ozai, so it's just logical that Ozai learned that behavior and those values from his own father.

Even 9 year old Azula thinks it laughable that Iroh would fall apart at the death of his son. She is a child and this is how she thinks. The reason Zuko doesn't think like this is because he's had the guidance of his mother, unlike Azula. This is the kind of mentality these kids grow up with. They grew up with war and so did Iroh and Ozai.

So why was Iroh's relationship with Lu Ten so different? Where did Iroh experience the kind of compassion and love he passed on to his own son, that Ozai definitely didn't? People act on how they've come to learn, so where did Iroh learn to care about his son to a point that it made him give up on his lifelong ambition?

Let's review a very crucial information we have on Iroh and Ozai as siblings: They have a huge age gap.

Frankly, I'm guessing about 10-20 years. Looks more like 20 to me, but that could also be Iroh's greater amount of endured pain and war making him look older than he actually is. But no one can deny that an age gap is definitely there. Which can also indicate they had different upbringings, despite having grown up in the same family as brothers.

What does this mean? Well, that's just me theorizing now, but I can definitely imagine that Iroh had someone, a family member maybe, there for him who wasn't around or didn't care to be when Ozai grew up. There must've been someone there who gave Iroh emotional security and guidance throughout his upbringing. Who? That's up to imagination. A friend of the family? A friendly uncle? His own mother ((or father))? (The last two things worked out for Zuko in the end, didn't they?) Otherwise I can't really explain myself why Iroh had enough values to love the way he loved Lu Ten, while Ozai clearly didn't give two fucks about his children at any point in his life.

Iroh was the firstborn son, the one who had a vision very early in his life that his destiny was to take over Ba Sing Se. Probably the one who got to have a family member care about him enough to show him how to love.

(I like to point this out a lot because I find it very interesting, and very significant. Please A:TLA give us more info on Iroh's past!!)

Which brings me to my second take: Ozai was the less favored son.

Iroh was clearly a son to be proud of. He was a master firebender, the "Dragon of the West", if you will. He apparently had a vision as a boy that he'd conquer the most "impenetrable city" in the world. He probably lived up to his parent's expectations for his whole life, especially having no sibling to be compared to for a significant part of his life. He broke through the outter wall of Ba Sing Se during his siege. Yada yada yada, you get my point. He's the best son they could've wished for.

And Ozai? As far as I know, he barely even has any military achievements. Taking over Ba Sing Se was Azula's doing. While Iroh laid siege to the capital, he was at home chilling in the palace. He's the younger brother to an established hero and was never meant to be firelord. Now, I haven't read the comics for more info on Ozai's biography, but this man barely had a chance to live up to his parent's standards with Iroh as an older brother. If my theory is correct, Ozai also didn't have any person to provide him emotional guidance throughout his life. (*cough* like Azula)

The logical outcome is: infinite jealousy.

And when Ozai suggests to Azulon that he revoke Iroh's birthright to become firelord, this is Azulon's answer:

Azulon doesn't even hesitate to call Ozai out on his bullshit. He doesn't hesitate to take offense at the suggestion of betraying Iroh, and he even seems to care about Iroh's suffering. Not to mention that Azulon is overall annoyed with Ozai's request for an audience and sends the rest of Ozai's family away as soon as he can, to get whatever it is Ozai wants over with.

I could also mention the fact that Ozai tried to impress Azulon with his daughter's skills (Azula, even named after him) and the overall strained relationship these two seem to exhibit. It's obviously very different from Azulon's relationship with Iroh, if the way he talks about said man is anything to show for.

What if Azulon treated Ozai the same way Ozai treated Zuko? (Probably without the physical abuse, but you get my point.) What if this is where Ozai learned to treat a "useless" kid like shit, maybe also in a way to cope with how he was treated himself?

Getting deeper into the fact that Ozai is rather a loser compared to Iroh, without any big military achievements and without value for anything beyond that, this also explains a lot about Ozai's constant need to establish his dominance.

First; Becoming Firelord through radical manners (you know, killing his own son or killing his own father)

Second; Publicly burning and banishing his own son whom he considers a weakling, who dared to speak up in his war room. Doing this to have everyone know that he doesn't associate himself with weakness and that he will not ever tolerate any form of disrespect.

Third; The whole Phoenix King act. No one can tell me this isn't a madman's doing. This is literally to show off that he is the most powerful person in the world.

Ozai is so obsessed with proving himself and his superiority to everyone, including himself and probably Iroh too. This makes most sense if we consider that he probably lived in his brother's shadow for his whole life, ignored by probably every guiding figure he's ever had in his life, maybe even considered a laughingstock by his own father.

Perhaps this is also the reason Ozai didn't have any problem with Iroh accompanying Zuko in banishment. His brother, the hero in whose shadow he grew up, and his son, the failure he'd wanted out of the way for a long time already. It would erase Iroh's image that made him superior to him, once and for all. For himself and the world. I believe that branding him a traitor was the biggest satisfaction Ozai had ever experienced in his life.

I absolutely despise Ozai with every fibre of my heart, but it amazes me how ATLA continues to leave so much room for interpretation and explanation for a character as despicable as him. Writing this, even had me feel sympathy for him at some point. Feel free to disagree with me or add anything, I'm eager to hear everyone's thoughts about Ozai and Iroh's backstories because I'm geniuinely very curious.

[jungc6ck]

Super (JJK x reader) Pt.1

🔥 Pairing: superhero/soulmate Jungkook x superhero/soulmate reader

💧Genre: superhero au, soulmate au, smut, angst

🔥 Rating: R (18+)

💧Summary: Jungkook was born as one of the lucky few to possess superpowers, so were you. He’s looked up to you ever since you’ve been fighting crime, so it makes perfect sense the universe would choose for you to be soulmates... unfortunately for him, you’re not even close to what everyone thinks you are. Behind that golden mask you wear is a less than golden person. Little does our clumsy and awkward hero know what you, this world, and the universe are about to put him through.

🔥Word count: 4k

💧 Warnings: cursing, violence, fighting, mention of sex and sexual acts and tiddies, future smut, future violence, future drinking problem, future mention of depression, future monsters (I’m just forewarning you that it’s going to get kind of dark)

“Hey! Pee-boy, wake up!”

Jungkook let out a little groan at the voice, letting it know he didn't appreciate the name-calling or being woken up.

“Jungkook” the voice now got growly and agitated.

Jungkook knew the voice, he just was too tired to respond.

“Get up!”

“How did you get in my room?” Jungkook muttered with his eyes still closed as he tried to roll over to escape Jimin’s nagging. His body rolled into unsupported nothingness and within a fraction of a second, his heart was racing right before his body made a collision with the cold wood floor. He knew he might as well wake up now.

Jimin cackled maniacally at the boy groaning in frustration and pain on the floor with his eyes now squinting open and looking up at his friend who sat in the chair at his desk beside the head of his bed.

“Your parents let me in.”

The only response the boy had was a sigh

“You know, because you’re twenty-three and still live with them… in their attic. To be honest it’s not even a cool lair.”

Jungkook finally sat up off of the floor and saw the neatly folded cloth Jimin had in his lap.

“Oh, this is for you. You should try it on.” He offered the fabric out to him.

Jungkook took it from him as he sat on the floor with his back against his bed and held it up the best he could to get a good look at it.

The spandex-looking material was a swirl of deep blue and silver reminding him of ocean waves at night.

“Thank you.” Jungkook gave his best friend a surprised but thankful smile before he went back to marveling at it.

“I can’t believe you made this, just for me.” He was astonished at his best friend’s talent.

“Well, you are my best friend… and a very special person. Oh! I almost forgot! The mask!”

Jimin reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a navy blue silicone rubbery object and tossed it to Jungkook. “It ties in the back with a thin string to match your hair but the inside of it is made of the gell stuff they use in push-up bras to keep them in place.”

Jimin sounded proud of himself but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh until something dawned on him.

“Oh shit, what time is it?” Jungkook asked Jimin as his body froze up and mouth dropped open.

“Almost eleven-thirty.” His friend had pulled out his phone to check before replying.

“Shit! Work!” Jungkook jumped up and threw his new suit and mask on his bed before running over to his closet across the room.

“I’ll see you later, good luck today,” Jimin announced.

Jungkook had already grabbed a jacket and jeans and headed over to his friend now by the door to give him a quick hug and thank you, but accidentally and absentmindedly added a quick kiss to the side of his head which made Jimin laugh. Jungkook was in too much of a hurry to dwell on his mistake and too silly to take it back, plus Jimin had already left the room before he could even speak again. He grabbed a backpack and threw his new suit into it along with a few other things before leaving.

“Hell,” Jungkook mumbled to himself with an exasperated sigh as his shitty car refused to start for the third time. “Come on baby, you can do it.” He tried again “do it for me” with that, the noise of the engine roared to life, however it still sounded as though its life could end at any moment. “What a good girl.” Jungkook realized as he drove off the way he had been speaking to his car. He blushed a little to himself and was glad no one overheard it. He knew sometimes he could be a little oblivious to those things with never having sex even once in his life. Once a girl did let him feel her up though at her house while under the guise of studying back when he was in school. He had no idea she didn’t really invite him over to study for a science test, he didn’t even know when she was flirting with him until she got frustrated and asked him to kiss her and take off his shirt. Jungkook had gotten a little bored with it though and nervous around her and never went back over to her house. That couldn’t have been his soulmate, but sometimes he wonders if it had been since she had been the only girl to ever like him that he knew of.

He was twenty-three, lived with his parents, never went to college, never found his soulmate like everyone else has, and made pizza for a living. It wasn’t all that bad at least he was trying and at least he had a job. He was simply making due with what he was given in life and he was doing his best and that was what mattered… well that wasn’t exactly true… until recently.

He was given so much more than any average person, he had always just been too scared to use it or even tell anyone but his family and best friend. His best friend. Jimin had known him since they were both six years old. He was the first one to know about Jungkook’s powers and help him figure out everything he could do. A lot of the time he helped drive Jungkook and make him do what he needed to do and in return, he liked to listen to Jimin and help him solve problems in his life, or hear about his day. Jungkook knew he was lucky to have him as a friend, always supportive, always creative as a fashion designer should be, Jungkook felt lucky he didn’t ditch him a long time ago. Jimin was accomplished, on top of having a good job, he had found his soulmate already, a rich modeling agent named Taehyung.

Jungkook had asked Jimin before what it was like to meet him and he replied something along the lines of “when you meet your soulmate, you just know. It hits you hard, you both know the universe has put you together. It’s not just love, it’s something so much more, something… addicting.” He had also said he had seen Taehyung before in magazines and that Taehyung had seen him on tv, but nothing hit until they met in person.

Jungkook had always wondered if he even had one if he was meant for anyone at all especially with him being so different. His parents were soulmates, so were his grandparents. Everyone had one but maybe not him. Perhaps the universe had given him powers but no one to love.

He didn’t want to think about it so he turned up the radio as he drove slightly over the speed limit into the city where traffic seemed pretty bad today.

“Fire girl, what do you think of her? Who do you think she is?” A radio talk show that he was previously ignoring made his ears perk up at her name. He had been enamored with her for years now. Everything she did, every person she saved, everyone she fought, Jungkook had known about.

“I think she’s pretty, that’s for sure. As for who she is, I guess no one would ever know in a city this big, maybe if I came across her I would know. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere.” The second man said.

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff. They wouldn’t know. Not only did she wear a mask but he knew that a person’s hair and eyes changed when they activated their powers. She most likely didn’t even have red hair or yellow eyes in her everyday life, just like his hair wasn’t blue and neither were his eyes. Jungkook was just plain Jungkook when he wasn’t using his powers. It was obvious to him that everyone didn’t know that.

“What if it’s a wig?” The first man asked the second.

“Who’s got time to put on one? Especially with that whole skin-tight outfit. Where do you think she gets dressed? How do you think she knows when and where the trouble is?”

“She could wear it under her normal clothes.”The first man decided and that struck Jungkook as a good idea. “As for how she knows about crime? Maybe she listens to a scanner on the same frequency as the police? Perhaps she even just watched the news. All I know is that our city is lucky to have her.”

“Ahh I’m not sure about that. I’ve heard people born with powers are pompous jerks who think they can get away with anything, a lot of people think that.”

Jungkook had heard that too growing up. There were people like him and fire girl all over the world, while there weren’t many, some always seemed to get into trouble. That’s what stopped Jungkook from trying to be a superhero until now. He was afraid of looking like a dick-bag, he was even afraid of becoming one. Although Jimin assured him he could never be, he was still scared of slipping up. While some people didn’t care for superheroes, some people loved them, especially children. He just didn’t want to disappoint anyone, he didn’t know if he was even good enough despite practicing in his backyard and taking taekwondo since he was a child. He wasn’t even comparable to fire girl.

As a child, he looked up to her, not just because she was pretty and cool, and could do so many things he couldn’t, not even because she had the exact opposite powers as he did. He looked up to her because she looked to be around his age, she made it all look so easy and she hadn’t been in any kind of scandal yet despite her five years as a public superhero. He thought maybe she was like him and that maybe she just wanted to do good in this world and not need the fame validation like some other heroes. Maybe she just wanted to help people like Jungkook did. He also thought that perhaps she might be grateful for some help.

This city was riddled with robberies, bad people, murderers, and just criminals in general, and even with knowing they would be stopped they all still tried for whatever reason. Jungkook also knew that the police in this town could be just as bad as the criminals and they were just as much egotistical jerks as some heroes were. Jungkook knew that just because you have power in any way didn’t mean you had to flaunt it and abuse it.

“She could be a terrible person, how would we know?”

Jungkook turned the radio off.

It was a hot summer day and working his butt off in a boiling kitchen with ovens going all day wasn’t what Jungook thought he would be doing when he was a child and imagined his future, although neither was using his superpowers and becoming a superhero. To be honest, he liked music, he liked to listen to it everywhere, at home, at work, even on his way to work and back. He had even gotten a guitar for his seventh birthday and spent years learning to play. He thought for sure he would be in some famous band by now and not just singing along to the radio while sweat-soaked his shirt in a pizza kitchen. His dreams weren’t what they were supposed to be, but he was fine with that, he was fine with thinking the universe would eventually just lead him to where he needed to be, and it was definitely about to.

There were ten minutes left of his shift, ten agonizing minutes where he was left alone to lock up the shop, finish cleaning up the place and turn the lights off. He was always left to close the shop alone, his boss trusted him to do it more so than the others, however, he still hadn’t made him a manager. The radio had been turned off and all that was left for background noise was the tv in the dining area that Jungkook let play on the news in hopes that he would see her on it as he swept the floor.

He didn’t unfortunately, but what he did see was live footage of a bank robbery that had turned into a stand-off with the police.

Jungkook froze and nearly dropped the broom in his hand as he watched the helicopter footage of the scene. The bank was close to him. He had his suit and mask in his backpack in the back, he could do this if he wanted to.

Adrenaline began to course through him at the thought. He bit his lip with his gaze on the tv as his options battled inside of him like violent crashing waves although he was calm on the outside. His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. Eight minutes now until he could leave.

In an instant, he had made a decision. He took off running through the store, clocked out, and headed into the back where his backpack was.

He stripped down in the storeroom as his pulse hammered in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he knew he had to start sometime.

He felt odd being stripped down to his underwear at work while struggling to get his limbs in the tight, stretchy fabric with his hands shaking. He had gotten one foot in a leg hole but lost his balance and fell over onto the tile trying to get the other in. He decided that maybe getting dressed while laying on the floor was his best bet.

His hands still shook as he tied the back of his mask tightly around his head. He could feel the jelly-like side conforming to the curves of his upper face and wondered if this was how a boob felt in a push-up bra as he thought about what Jimin had said earlier.

“Okay.” he let out a shaky breath as he stood up from the floor “I’m not going to die today. I won’t die. Nope, not even once. I won’t die.” he chanted to himself hoping that implanting it in his brain would help him be safer while mustering courage. He let out a deep breath before he let his power wash over his body, knowing his hair and eyes just changed to blue.

“Let’s do this!” he said to himself with sureness and courage with clenched fists.

He locked up the shop, leaving his backpack with his clothes inside, and headed to his car just outside.

He had a fist full of keys, some for the store and some for his house and car. As he put his car key in the ignition and tried to start it, all of his courage died along with the engine.

“Balls!” he shouted as he smacked the steering wheel and tried again. The car simply wouldn’t start. “After I was so nice to you this morning?! Come on! I’m trying to be a superhero here!”

He tossed all the keys into the passenger seat and let the top of his head fall back into the headrest as he looked up at the roof of the car. He debated on giving up, but he decided against it. He could feel it, this was where the universe was leading him, today was his day.

The underwhelming but soon-to-be hero decided to briskly jog to the scene of the crime while people stared at him for the way he was dressed, cursing himself the entire way for being unable to fly.

Jungkook was met with a blocked-off street with police officers and cop cars scattered all over it. Jungkook hadn’t thought about how to get through the cops and into the bank. If he wasn’t going to get shot out here by the police for trying to get into a robbery, he would probably be killed by the robbers for simply just strolling in. The odds and his luck didn’t seem to be in his favor today.

“I’m a superhero, I should be able to just go on by them.” He told himself and decided to try it.

He walked past the roadblock but didn’t make it far.

“Hey, kid! Where do you think you’re going?!” Was shouted at him making him pick up the pace until he was at a full run for the bank door.

A lot of officers were shouting at him, but it was hard for him to understand them with the pleads in his head for them to not take him out, the noisy helicopter overhead, and the loudness of his heartbeat.

He almost crawled as he entered the glass doors of the bank as silently as he could.

It looked like Jungkook’s luck was turning around because not only were the masked robbers too busy stealing and yelling at people they had lying on the ground to see him, but they had their backs all turned to him. This was perfect.

Just as he raised a hand to do something one was suddenly knocked over making the other three robbers look in that direction.

Fire girl. She had dropped from seemingly nowhere and kicked one in the face before her feet even touched the floor.

There she was, in person, in action, and not just on tv. She now stood in the same room with him with her golden mask coving half of her face, her yellow eyes,doand bright red hair. Her skin-tight suit was a mix of yellow, orange, and gold. She was so unbelievably beautiful that he felt like it was melting his brain.

Before Jungkook could go into too many starstruck thoughts over it, his body told him to take action as gunfire began.

He raised his hand yet again and let a heavy and harsh stream hit one right in the back, knocking him forward so hard that his head hit the marble floor and the gun flew from his hand.

He had never done that to a person before, but his powers had done exactly what he wanted them to, just like always. For whatever reason, Jungkook was sure they would fail when the time came.

His heart raced as all eyes were on him now and his brain panicked with “holy shit, I’ really doing this”

“Who the hell are you?!”

The words didn’t come from anyone he was expecting, not a bank teller, not a civilian, not even a robber. It was fire girl who seemed lost.

Jungkook ignored it as he saw a gun now from one of the last two bank robbers being pointed in his direction.

Time seemed to slow as his body acted for him, getting low to the ground and holding out his hand for a powerful surge of water to release. It hit the man with the gun pointed at him directly in the face so hard Jungkook had thought it had broken his neck.

From his peripherals, he could see fire girl sweeping the legs of the last man and stepping on his neck.

And then there was silence.

Both he and the second hero collected the guns before Jungkook threw one of the robbers over his shoulder, then he went for a second one which he threw over his other one. Was he showing off his strength in front of a pretty girl? Yes. But it was working. She watched frozen for a moment as he took the two limp men over to the door and laid them in front of the glass for the police to see and gestured to them that everything was okay and that they could come in.

Dragging another robber across the floor and into the pile was fire girl.

Their eyes locked for just a moment and they both paused.

Jungkook was hit like an explosion, although it felt physical, he still stood frozen with his mouth dropped open. It felt like he had been shot but it wasn’t pain he had felt in his brain and chest, but with a powerful wave of ease and belonging. Although this feeling was new to him, there was a strange sense of deja vu about it as if he had lived and felt it before. His brain was in overload and began to shut down until nothing but static was left.

“Who are you?” She asked again but it was much much quieter.

Jungkook was at a complete loss for words.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Her voice went bitter and cold as she now gave him a shitty look through with her yellow eyes drilling into him through her golden mask that covered the top half of her face.

Again, Jungkook didn’t speak.

“YOU COULD’VE DIED!! It was obvious you didn’t know what the hell you were doing!” She was now pointing her finger angrily right in his face so close he felt his eyes cross.

“You stay the hell out of it amateur! Don’t EVER get involved in something like this ever again when you have no training and no control over anything in this situation ESPECIALLY when you have no control over your powers! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! You’re an idiot and you could've made this job so much harder for me!”

She yelled at him while all that Jungkook could think about was what the hell he was feeling and going through and how beautiful and powerful she looked when she was yelling at him.

“I-I-“ Jungkook was trying to muster the brainpower to speak “but everything was okay.”

He had been so lost in her that he didn’t even see it coming when he was tackled to the ground and his arms were forcefully bent behind his back.

A police officer was sitting on his back and applying cold metal handcuffs to his wrists.

“Ow ow ouch.” He winced at the crushing weight on his back and the bending of his arms which he thought might snap like the delicate bones of spicy chicken wings. He could see the feet of the hostages beginning to file out of the building, some in tears from their traumatic experience.

“Why am I being arrested?” he asked wondering why he was being treated like a bad guy when he had just saved people and why wasn’t fire girl being arrested as well.

He was pulled to his feet by the handcuffs and patted down.

“You were unauthorized to enter this building. You interfered with law enforcement.”

Jungkook wanted to tell the cop that law enforcement wasn’t even doing anything to assist in the situation anyway, but he knew that would be a bad move and didn’t want to make the situation any worse.

“Why isn’t she being arrested then?” he nodded his head towards the other hero.

“She’s fire girl. She’s a superhero.” the officer answered simply.

“TELL THEM!” Jungook begged her in desperation.

“Tell them what?” she crossed her arms and spoke with a sour tone.

“Tell them I helped.” he urged.

“But you didn’t.”

She was lying and they both knew it, however, the cop didn’t, and began to drag Jungkook away and out the door.

In the open, people swarmed. Onlookers, reporters, ambulances, fire trucks. Everyone was watching him get arrested as if he had robbed the bank himself.

He was stuck into the back of a cop car for far too long. He even got the chance to see flame erupt from fire girl’s feet and watched as she flew away. Was she a jerk like many other superheroes? Or did she just not want to see him get hurt? Jungkook chose to believe it was the second one. After all, his soulmate couldn’t be a lying jerk-bag, could she?

All rights reserved © 2020 - 2021 Jungc6ck No editing, copying, reposting, or translating allowed.

[voldemorts-tap-shoes]

Entry #2 for @romioneficfest

Dreams

“For the thousandth time, Ron, you can’t give Adam Davies detention just so he can’t play in the match Saturday.”

“Oh really?” Ron throws a challenging smirk her way as he turns around to walk backwards down the hallway that leads to their quarters and tugs at his robes. “What does this badge say?”

Hermione rolls her eyes, fighting back a grin as she retorts, “Just because you’re Head Boy does not give you carte blanche to assign detention to everyone on the Ravenclaw quidditch team.”

“Not everyone,” Ron protests, unlocking the door to their private common room with a casual flick of his wrist, neither of them breaking stride as they enter and toss their bags aside. “Just Davies.”

“No.”

“C’mon, it’s criminal for a third-year to be that good at seeker.” Ron flops onto the couch, tugging at Hermione’s hand until she’s standing between his knees.

“Oh, really?” It’s her turn to raise an eyebrow at him as her hands settle on his shoulders. “And is that the same stance that you took when Harry was winning Quidditch Cups for Gryffindor in our early years?”

Ron’s arms slide around her back and pull her closer, but she resists the impulse to entangle herself with him on the couch. “Of course not, but Gryffindor is the superior house in every way.” Hermione scoffs.

“That’s not a very diplomatic way of thinking.”

“And yet, here sit the Head Boy and Girl, both of Gryffindor. So explain that, brightest witch of our age.” He’s grinning at her now, and what’s left of her resolve is sure to crumble at any moment.

“You are absolutely insufferable,” she says, more to remind herself than to berate him. “You know that, right?”

“It’s part of my charm.” He leans up the miniscule amount required to brush his lips against her neck. “And you know you love it,” he adds, his voice low and husky against her ear. Involuntarily, a soft moan escapes Hermione as his hands find the gap between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her skirt, his fingers just brushing the edge of her knickers.

“How much time do we have before dinner?” she asks breathily, her fingers digging into the knot of his tie and pulling to loosen it.

“Enough.” The way Ron nearly growls the word at her is her undoing, and Hermione hurries to close the gap between them, crashing her lips down to his. His tie hits the floor first, but the subsequent movement to undo the buttons of his uniform shirt is halted by his hands under her skirt, his fingers moving skillfully and distractingly against her—

Hermione woke with a gasp, sitting up as she frantically tried to make sense of her surroundings in the dark. The lingering pain against her throat and the sound of the crashing waves outside quickly reminded her where they were, and more importantly, why.

“ ‘ermione?” Ron’s sleepy voice sounded from somewhere to her left. “You alright?”

“Yes,” she sighed. She could feel her cheeks reddening at the memory of what she had been dreaming about and was suddenly grateful for the darkness of the room. “Yes, I’m fine. It was—just a dream.”

The chair creaked as Ron stood, and she could see him moving towards her, his tall frame dimly illuminated by the moonlight from the room’s only window. “Nightmare?” he asked softly as he sat down at the edge of her bed and reached for her hand.

“No, actually. We were...um.” She hesitated before revealing a true, but incomplete, account of her dream. “We were Head Boy and Girl. You and I.”

Ron laughed softly, his thumb brushing gently against the back of her hand. “Well, I believe half of that.”

“It’s silly. Sorry I woke you,” she said sheepishly.

“Don’t be sorry. Honestly, just happy to hear that you were dreaming about anything besides…” He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish the sentence to make his meaning clear. She had been having nightmares about her torture since they arrived at Shell Cottage nearly a week ago now. “Well, was I a good Head Boy?” he asked teasingly.

She rolled her eyes at him as she had in her dream. “We were arguing about the validity of you giving detention to Ravenclaw’s best Quidditch player to keep him out of a match.”

“Let me guess, you weren’t in favor?” Hermione shook her head with a chuckle. “You must have really been giving me what-for, as flushed as your cheeks are,” Ron noted. Hermione reflexively pulled her hand from his to cover her face.

“Are they?” she asked, though she could feel the tell-tale heat under her palm. “Must have been madder at you than I thought.”

Ron smiled at her. “Sounds about right. Who won? The row, I mean.”

“Well, er…” Despite their growing closeness over the last week—closeness was an understatement, really; Ron had barely left her side—Hermione was hesitant to tell him what had really gotten her so worked up. After all, there had as yet been no kisses, certainly no wandering hands, and the feelings that she had long suspected, and harbored herself, were still no more than implied. But after what had happened, and what was still to come, how many chances were they really going to have? “Actually, I believe it was a tie. We got a bit...distracted.”

Ron’s eyes widened just slightly enough for her to realize that he understood what she hadn’t said. “Did we?” Hermione nodded.

“Do you think that...if there weren’t a war, that…” She trailed off and focused her eyes on the knit blanket that covered her, unable to meet his suddenly burning gaze. “Maybe this year would have been something like that?”

“I think that…” Ron scooted closer to her, and she felt her heart picking up speed. “War or no war, we could still have...something. Like that.”

Hermione nodded, and he was so close to her now that she could feel his breath against her lips. “Please,” she whispered.

Ron leaned forward to close the last of the distance between them, and his lips met hers for a long-awaited kiss. It was so gentle, compared to what they had been up to in her dream, but it still sent shivers all the way down to her toes. This, this one was perfect.

This one was real.

[hes-writer]

Trial (4)

Summary: harry and y/n face the truth

Warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff

Word Count: 4249 words

A/N: thank you so much for supporting this series !! @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. I will do the taglist later in the day :)

EDIT: idk why the ‘read more’ is not working. I apologize for the scrolling!!

Part 4 of the Tarnish series!

___

Harry was crying.

Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.

And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely. 

Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy? 

Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would. 

But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table. 

The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.

His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?

“Harry!” 

He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally. 

The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,” 

He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.

Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath. 

“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”

“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”

“I-I was--she didn’t want me--” 

“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.

“The baby is yours, Harry,”

His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”

“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”

"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’? 

“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”

At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind

He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago. 

“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.

Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister. 

“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me? 

Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”

“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,” 

Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain. 

Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting—-Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting. 

But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)—Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily. 

Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous. 

He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.  

If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.

Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence. 

He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him. 

Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.

Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”

Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone. 

“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.

“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs. 

Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made. 

“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.

But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.

“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.

Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”

He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,”  Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”

Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.

“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.

The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet. 

Harry began to sob. 

It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’. 

Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s. 

Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot. 

When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention. 

“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them. 

“Look, you have no right coming here,”

“I know that b-but I--,”

She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”

“I had no idea--,”

“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”

Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?” 

She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”

Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”

“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body. 

With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”

Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them. 

“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,” 

And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart. 

“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”

“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”

“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.

“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”

“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.

“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”

He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”

“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”

In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”

“Are you kidding me?”

His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”

“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”

“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”

Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”

“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly. 

“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”

“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo. 

“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”

What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided. 

With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’

Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”

Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered  bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”

___

Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls

I need to tell you something

Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.

Y/N: I’m pregnant

And you’re the father

She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’. 

It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked. 

___

The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.

It wasn’t that at all. 

Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.

Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.

He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.

_____

Let me know what you thought!

———

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[whump-a-la-mode]

Gilded Cage - Part 7

I can only describe this as tooth-rotting fluff. Our whumpee deserves it!

Thank you so much to everyone for going through this story with me. I’ve had so much fun.

@worstcasescenariolullaby

CW//Hospital setting, medical talk, talk of broken bones, talk of surgery, altered states of mind, mentions of death, mentions of building collapses, conspiracy

“Are you sure about this?” Sidekick’s face twisted in a mask of concern.

“I’m sure.” Villain nodded.

“The Heroes...”

“The city won’t let this happen again. Come visit me in hospital sometime, okay? I’ll be okay.”

“Okay.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The felt piece on the bottom of the chess pawn had long since worn away, leaving a dull screeching noise in its wake as Villain moved the piece forward on the board. In expectation, they raised their head to their opponent, before gazing back down at the board. Examining the playing field. Furrowing their brows.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Their opponent, Old Friend, spoke, their tongue filled with equal parts laughter and playful teasing. “And... there goes your rook.”

“What!” Villain’s gaze darted about the board, before grumbling and removing their fallen piece, adding it to a quickly growing pile. “You’re cheating.”

“How does one cheat at chess?”

“By being better than me. There, okay, there goes your pawn.”

“And there goes your knight.”

“Asshole. Come on, you have to have a secret. You gotta tell me.”

Old Friend smiled.

“You’re so intent on taking my pieces that you don’t worry about your own. Also, I was in the chess club back in school, so...”

“Nerd.” Villain stuck out their tongue.

“Alright, candle boy.”

“Hey! I told you-”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just really funny.”

“I could disintegrate a candle-”

“I know, I know. It’s your move, dude.”

“Fine. Is turning the board to ash a valid chess move?”

“There’s enough fire damage on the pieces as it is. Candle boy.”

“At least come up with something better than that. Like... Like blowtorch. That sounds cool.”

“Blowtorch? What are you, like, seven?”

“Eh, there’s worse villain names out there.”

“You don’t have one yet, do you?”

“Nah. I’m not that breed of cocky. They just call me the arsonist, I think.”

“That’s pretty underwhelming.”

“Meh.”

Again, Villain studied the board a moment. They sent a rook forwards, knocking over a knight on the other side.

“Your move.”

Old Friend nodded, and, for a few moments, they sat like that. Accompanied by nothing but the sounds of the city and the scraping of pieces on the board.

“Did Violet ever have a name?”

It took Villain a few moments to register the question. They moved a piece before looking up.

“What, like a villain name?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think so. You could ask her.”

“Aw, man, you haven’t heard?”

Villain frowned, lips pursing together to form a thin line.

“She’s gone?”

“Bridge collapse. I was always warning her, taking roots out of the ground like that is gonna make something fall eventually. Just so happened to be right on top of her. It’s a shame, really. Gonna have to find somewhere else to get our lettuce, now.”

“Not funny.”

“I know. And... check.”

“What?”

“Checkmate.”

“Again?”

“Again.”

Villain shoved the board away from themself, sitting back and stretching their arms above their head. Old Friend swiped the remaining pieces from the board, beginning to once again set the stage for their next game.

“This time, think about the risk you might be putting your pieces in. It’s not worth it, losing a knight to take out a pawn, y’know?”

“I guess.”

“What’s got you acting so sad all of a sudden?” Old Friend looked up. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m gonna get a candle.”

“Okay. You good?”

“I just... I just need a candle.”

Villain stood, stiff legs aching with pins and needles as they moved across the small, damp-walled apartment. The kitchen, or what was little more than a countertop with a fridge and microwave, was barren, snack bowls long since left with nothing but crumbs.

They drew open the door of one of the wall-mounted cabinets, unveiling a series of shelves, stacked with white pillars of wax. Most lumpy and misshapen, the rest bent and folded in on themselves. Villain selected one, moving back to where Old Friend had just finished resetting the board. They sat in their spot, a place already well worn into the carpet.

“Do you want to play again?” Old Friend’s voice had grown quiet, concerned.

“Yeah... Just give me a second.”

“Need to let it out?”

“Yeah.”

The firebrand gripped the white-waxed candle in one hand, then the other. Feeling the film transfer from palm to palm. The flame in their stomach answered the call without hesitance. They had already felt the heat, struggling to escape into their veins.

It was slow, at first. The wax did not melt, simply molding itself, bulging and shifting as to allow Villain’s fingers to make their mark. Their eyes fixed upon the process: The control of it. The way in which the wax moved only on their call.

It helped them breathe.

“Violet...” They began, frowning again. “That’s the second bridge accident this year.”

“There’s a lot of bridges, to be fair.”

“But not a lot of collapses.”

“What are you saying?”

“It seems so much like a coincidence, but... How many have we lost, this year?”

“Violet and Argyle, uh, Aaron I think. Dana and Evelyn and-”

“And what month is it?”

“April?”

“Exactly.”

“I mean, we lose a lot, but...”

“And they’re always accidents. Car crashes. Building fires. Drownings. But they’re not accidents.”

The wax yielded with more readiness. A few droplets fell, deftly caught by Villain’s other hand.

“What do you mean, they’re not accidents? I don’t think people drown on purpose.”

“Well, yeah. But that’s not what I mean. If they were actually accidents, you would think they’d happen at random times. But-”

“It’s always when the Heroes are around. Always during battle.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t think the Heroes are doing it on purpose, though. I mean, they wouldn’t just blow up a bridge to kill one villain. The battles just get too intense, I think. I mean, how many times have you almost died in battle?”

“A lot.”

“Same here. That’s all.”

“No. No.” Villain shook their head. “I’ve almost died many times. But I haven’t died. Because I’m not stupid. And the others weren’t, either.”

“I don’t think the Heroes are killing people, Villain.”

“Then what else are they doing?”

“I don’t know, protecting the city? Whatever nonsense they say.”

“Protecting the city from us. Supposedly. But it seems like they’re a hell of a lot more focused on these big battles.”

“That’s kind of our fault, to be fair.”

“Is it? Most of our didn’t choose this life.”

“We’re still doing, I mean, crimes. Like, we’re definitely criminals.”

“Then they should be taking us to prison.”

“Isn’t that what they do?”

“When is the last time you heard of anyone going to prison?”

“I mean, uh... What about Jared?”

“You mean the one they got in a van that then mysteriously exploded?”

“Oh. Right. What about, uh, didn’t they get Kara?”

“Yeah. And then pronounced her dead at the hospital.”

“Okay. Maybe... maybe you have a point.”

Between Villain’s fingers, a single droplet of candle wax fell.

“Yeah.”

Old Friend sighed.

“Do you want to play again?”

“Mhm.”

Villain drew the heat from their palms, allowing the remnants of the candle to solidify in their hands. They placed it down, then, though droplets of white still stuck to their fingers.

“I think...” Old Friend looked down at the board, considering their first move. “I think if the Heroes ever capture you, you’ll find they’re a lot kinder than you expect.”

Villain snorted in laughter.

“If the Heroes ever capture me, there will nothing left of my body to find.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

“It’s a miracle.”

“It is. The damage they sustained... I can hardly believe that there’s enough blood left in them to keep them alive.”

“Hardly any blood. Hardly any body, either.”

“Yeah.”

“A real miracle. The guys down in Radiology, they thought we got the scans mixed up. They confused them for those of the guy in the other room. The motorcycle crash one.”

“That makes sense. To think that a human did this...”

“Not a normal human. A lot stronger than a normal human.”

“But with the same morals as a normal human.”

“You’d hope so.”

“Oh. Crap, looks like they’re waking up. Let’s give a bit more propofol... They need their rest.”

Villain’s closed eyes twitched, as though dreaming. At least, they did not think they were dreaming. It was hard to say, these days...

Had it been days? Or just a couple of hours? They tried to think, to remember, but the will to do so was deeply buried under blankets and bitter-tasting medicines. They longed to sit up, to move, to open their eyes, but those thoughts came from such a small part of their mind. The rest of them was so tired...

The numbness, now, was softer. Warmer. It was not a force of overwhelming heat, laughing at them and telling them to forget their pain, to keep moving. Instead, this time, the numbness was simply warm. Pleasantly so. Urging them to rest, to sleep, to ignore the taste of iron on their tongue that refused to go away.

Sleeping and wakefulness, to them, felt to be a sliding scale. They spent much time at the former end, in blissful unconsciousness, but had yet to find themself at the latter. They struggled for it, struggled to get close, but their anxious murmurs and twitching were always responded to with soft words and hands and more warmth in their veins.

Vilain was floating for a moment. Again, the hundredth time, they struggled to part their lips, but only managed to exert effort to no end.

“Their leg... I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Are you sure they’re strong enough for this?”

“Yeah. We can’t wait any longer. The bone will heal wrong if we wait any longer.”

“Okay.”

The numbness was stronger, that time.

“Villain? Villain?”

Their eyelids twitched, again.

“They said you’d opened your eyes, earlier...”

There was more softness, in that tone. Not the pitying notes of a doctor or nerve-wracked surgeon, but the warm coaxing of a friend.

The hand on their wrist was cold.

Their fingers twitched, then their lips. They tried to utter out a syllable, but only managed a shaky breath.

“Yeah, that’s it. Thank you. Do you remember me?”

Did they? They weren’t sure what they remembered, anymore. They remembered being here. They remembered the blankets and the half-hearted attempts by the nurses to coax them into swallowing a spoonful of jello.

“It’s Doctor. Do you remember me? Do you remember Doctor?”

“Doctor?”

The word came out more like a croak. Their eyes twitched with more furor this time, until, at long last, the world flooded into sterile existence around them. They got distracted, a moment, by the pattern of white tiles above.

“There you go!” There was genuine pride in that voice. “I knew you could do it.”

“Mmm.”

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” That cold hand moved from their wrist to their hand. Trying to hold it, to embrace their fingers. But Villain did not have the strength for such a thing. “I’m so sorry, Villain. I’m so sorry.”

“F- for what?”“

“I- I almost killed you! Had you stayed under my care... I’m sorry.”

Villain blinked a moment, trying to think.

“You...” Their throat felt so terribly raw. “You were right.”

“It wasn’t right to let Hero try to kill you.”

“No... Not that. You said, uh, about warmth. ‘Bout heat.”

There was a smile. Villain did not have to see it to know that it was there.

“You understood?”

“Yes. On th’stage.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you did good.”

“I get it, now. I think... Heat can, uh, it can destroy buildings.” Their words were awfully drawn out, hard to understand through their lengthy slurring. “But it can also... bake cookies.”

Doctor laughed, at that.

“You’re right. You’re right.”

Villain’s fingers finally agreed to move, wrapping around Doctor’s hand.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Villain.” Another sigh. This one, warm. “Have you heard, what they’re saying about you? You lost so much blood. And your organs were all over the place. It’s a miracle that you survived.”

The grasp on Villain’s hand tightened.

“They said you only lived because you wanted to. Because you really, really wanted to survive. Is that right?”

“I... I think it is. Yeah.”

“Yeah. I’ll be back, okay? Get some rest.”

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It was three weeks after, that they were allowed to have any more visitors. Three weeks of medicines and surgeries and treatments and x-rays. It all blurred in their mind, until the calendar held as little meaning to them as the results of their blood tests.

They weren’t healed. Certainly not. But wakefulness no longer felt like such a monumental effort.

The jello tasted like nothing as they placed it upon their tongue. Nothing but sugar and sweetener, desperately trying to mask the tastelessness of gelatin. By the time the door opened, which it did with such a force that Villain wondered if it had been struck with a battering ram, they were almost done with the cup of overly-sweet dessert.

They jumped, nearly dropping their plastic spoon as their gaze snapped upwards. For a split second, the figure in the doorway made their limbs begin to shake, a familiar pressure reviving on their neck. But, it only lasted a second.

Sidekick looked different. Their stature was the same, certainly, as well-muscled as ever, but it was no longer draped in any sort of uniform. Instead, a grey sweatshirt struggled to contain their form, marked with the logo of some sports team or another.

Villain took another bite of jello.

“Good news.” Sidekick’s smile had the same media allure that Hero once showed the cameras, sending a shiver down Villain’s spine. They strode nearer, confident steps striking the tile floor. Compared to them, Villain felt terribly small. “Come on, don’t you want to hear it?”

Another bite and the cup was empty. They placed it down on the small table next to their bed.

“Um... Yeah. Okay.” They could not muster up nearly enough energy to match that of their visitor.

“Okay, so, J- sorry, uh, you-know-who, they found the video. The real one. Without all the edits.”

“That’s... good.”

“Mhm. We have news stations willing to broadcast it, too. Put some doubt on the story, right?”

“Right.”

“You... Don’t seem as excited as I remember you being.”

“Sorry.” Villain’s gaze cast downwards. “I’m still just a little tired, and all.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. You got hurt pretty bad. Do you have any idea when you might be out of here?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll try to ask a nurse or something. When you’re strong enough, though, we’ve got this whole plan. You’re gonna be, like, our emissary. Between us and the villains, yeah?”

“Uh... why?”

“Well, I mean, the Heroes only really exist to stop you and the other villains. If we can just... convince them to stop doing villain stuff, then the public will start the see that the Heroes are, y’know, not all their cracked up to be.”

Villain struggled to suppress a smile. They couldn’t imagine trying to ask some of their former cohorts to all of a sudden go on the straight and narrow.

Still, even beneath the blankets and the medicine, they felt the smallest scrap of warmth return. A tiny ember, floating in their stomach.

The opportunity to turn their pain into something other than nightmares and tears in the hospital bed’s pillow.

“When I’m out of here... well, we’ll have to see, I guess.”

“That’s all we can really hope for. Now, uh, I kind of have to go. They’re about to notice I broke a window.”

“You w-”

“Sorry! Gotta go!”

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It was the smell that made Villain recognize their second visitor, more than their appearance.

They looked different. Quite different. Taller, slightly, with tight cords of muscle now curling about their neck. Nothing like the tiny twig they’d once known.

It looked like they’d finally hit their growth spurt, after all. A decade late.

The scent that they carried with them was one of freshly cut wood, the rural stench of sawdust, accompanied by the damp musk of a home long forgotten.

“Holy shit, candle boy.”

Four words. Four stupid words, uttered the moment Old Friend walked through the door.

Villain burst out laughing.

Not laughter of sorrow, or of venom. True laughter. The warmth that filled their chest this time had nothing to do with flame.

“So, am I allowed to hug you, or...”

“There’s no doctors here to tell us not to.”

“Good point.”

The warmth in Villain’s chest only increased with Old Friend’s embrace. Their friend buried their head in their shoulder. The tears wet quickly through Villain’s hospital gown.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I should have-”

“It’s in the past, now. I’m just so glad you’re alive.”

“Just to be clear... you’re not a good guy?”

“I don’t know what I am. But I’m still your friend.”

“That’s all I care about.”

The embrace broke off after over a minute, though it was still far too soon.

“We have an apartment. Me and Aggie and some others.” Old Friend stepped back. “We have a room all set up. Even found some of your old stuff. I know it’s gonna be a while, but... you’ve always got somewhere to go, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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The End

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I can’t thank you guys enough for reading through this story and experiencing it with me. This is the end of this story, but I hope to make another one soon!

There is no next part, so there are no story paths to choose from for next time. But, I still have options to pick from. I want to hear what you think Villain’s choice will be!

A) Be a hero. Go with Sidekick, and liberate the city

B) Be a friend. Return to Old Friend. Make life good again.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: INFP with social anxiety here. I have a therapist but we're focusing on some other issues right now. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had some advice for me. I know you're not a professional (you say that multiple times in your posts) and of course I'm not asking you for a fix for my social anxiety with this - I'm just asking your help to understand what part my cognition could be playing in all of this cause I'm really curious.

Basically, my problem is the time frame right BEFORE I meet someone and, sometimes, immediately after. I don't really have problems socializing in the "middle", if you get what I mean; I'm easily adaptable and once I'm relaxed, once I realize no one is there to attack me, my mind starts getting ideas and I kind of know what to say, even though I'm a bit out of practice and I still have problems convincing other people of my emotions (like, mirroring their emotions so that they know I agree with them and stuff like that; for some reason they never ---believe me when I say it with words).

When I make plans, anyway, and I still haven't met the person, I get this anxiety: like I would rather stay home than go there because it's going to be "boring" and I'm probably going to feel like an idiot or make some sort of social gaffe. I mean, I do kinda get bored after a while anyway, but I also know I tend to overestimate that level of "future boredom" to the point it hurts me to even think about showing up and forcing myself to think of stuff I can-- say.

I get anxious because I start thinking about the way people used to treat me in the past (I've always been the black sheep of my family and/or my social circles and I vividly remember some bad things they used to say to me) and I start worrying that, deep down, they still think of me like that and they're never going to forget that "preconception of my identity" and open their eyes to who I am now, or I guess to who I've always been.

I do realize it doesn't make much sense, this "who I ----really am" part - but I've always had the impression that I was a bit different than the "me" they percieved, maybe because after many, many years of being accused of "selfishness" and "inability to tune in with the emotional atmosphere" I learned that in order not to ruin the "social mood" I should've adapted myself to the group - but the problems is that I suppressed "myself" in the meantime (and with myself I mean, like, my real interests, the things I'd like to talk about for ages without-- having to be interrupted or looked down on because, quote unquote, "ok, cool, but we don't really care").

I understand now that if they don't give me hints of actually caring about the subject I should stop rambling like a fool, but this is making me feel like I have nothing "useful" to offer them and therefore bringing the anxiety I'm struggling with. It makes me scared that I'll never be able to be myself around them because of the "social rules" I want to respect to be accepted, & to make----it worse I'm out of practice like I said before and sometimes it just gets too awkward and I want to get out of there.

I bet I'm doing something wrong because friendships and relationships in general are not supposed to be "boring", am I right? And yet until I don't get distracted by the actual conversation, I feel like it's going to be really boring and uncomfortable and sometimes going through it is SO horrible... most of the time I end up making up some excuse to go home earlier and talk----my internet friends instead (thank God for the internet!!!!). Anyway, thank you if you'll answer! And have a good summer vacation c:

-----------------------

The first thing I notice is that your thought process bears a very striking resemblance to many INFJs who struggle with social anxiety due to poor Fe development (see past posts). As a general rule, if I have good reason to suspect that someone might be mistyped, I won't provide info about function development until they undergo a proper type assessment. Otherwise, they might adopt the wrong method of improvement.

You say you want to understand what part your cognition plays in the social anxiety you experience, so I will mention the aspects of your cognition that seem most significant:

1) No Chill: You overthink things to an extreme, to the point of self-sabotage, perhaps even creating a self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. when expecting the negative actually makes the negative happen). Overthinking means that you're not confronting the real obstacle getting in the way of your socializing. You're constantly trying to envision, imagine, or predict what will happen in a social interaction? WHY? What's the point of that overthinking? It's how you avoid confronting your fear head on.

2) Insecure: Your "predictions" are too often faulty because of being tainted by your underlying insecurities. You're insecure about being attacked, being accused, being misjudged, doing something wrong, being deemed of no value or unworthy of care, not being accepted or acceptable, dying of awkwardness, feeling bored, feeling uncomfortable, and on and on. You've described your thought process in detail. But nowhere do I see you confronting your insecurities, digging deeper into them, in order to understand the root of them. Insecurities are a manifestation of fear.

3) Control: Irrational anxiety is oftentimes about trying to control things that you shouldn't be trying to control or cannot have any control over - it wastes mental energy and leads to futile behavior. As long as you're trying to control social situations and their outcome, you are either trying too hard to make reality match up with your expectations or you're fumbling whenever reality unfolds outside of your expectations - you become rigid and frail. You claim to be "adaptable" but everything you say after that only proves you don't know the meaning of the word. You can't handle unpredictability, hence, the attempt to be in control by trying to "predict" everything. Do your attempts to control actually work? Do they help or hinder you? If they mostly hinder you, then isn't it time to change your strategy? Anxious people often believe that having more knowledge or control is the answer to their fear. But, in your case, the huge cost of being controlling is being incompetent. What's worse, the fear is still right there running the show.

4) Unresolved Trauma: You attribute your troubles to your past. Fair enough. Growing up in a social environment that did not respect and appreciate you is painful, even extremely traumatic for certain personality types. It also makes people too hungry for validation. It's natural that you wouldn't want to feel the pain of it again. However, if that pain remains unexamined and unresolved, you will unconsciously keep seeking to resolve it, which means re-enacting the trauma over and over again throughout life. The proof? Every time you meet someone, your first stance is defensive, because the first thing that comes into your mind is that you don't want to be attacked or invalidated. That old pain is running the whole show because you are deeply afraid of experiencing it again, yet you don't realize that YOU are the one calling it back up and rehashing it. What are you doing to resolve the pain rather than indulge the fear?

5) Self-absorbed: Social anxiety makes people too absorbed in their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and expectations. They are too preoccupied with what they want, what will happen, how they will be perceived, how they might make a mistake, how they might be attacked, etc. This means they're not truly present with people, so the relationship can't really go far. Driven by fear and insecurity, they are always behind a wall, too difficult to reach.

Even if you happen to meet the right people, do you make it easy for them to befriend you? It seems that you can't open up with ease, you can't go with the flow of the other person when they don't live up to your expectations, you can't keep your emotions in check and misjudge situations, you get bored when it's not about you, you run away instead of making things better. Looking at yourself objectively from the outside, would you want to be friends with someone like that?

If you want to have good friends, you first have to BE a good friend. You want care, love, and validation? We all do. The best way to receive it is to be the first to give it. By being more aware of other people's needs and doing more to show that you care about them, you put them in a better position to care about you and meet your needs in return. This is the difference between actively trying to "make" a friend vs passively wishing for a friend to drop into your lap.

Being a friend isn't about what "value" you have, as though you're some kind of object being appraised and sold. Being a good friend is quite a simple matter of putting out the energy to care and show that you care. When you meet someone who's moved by your care, they will care for you in return. When you meet someone who's unmoved by your care, figure out the real reason why, in order to determine whether you should keep trying or put your energy elsewhere.

You never really know who you'll hit it off with. One of my favorite experiences in life is making a friend in the unlikeliest of places. As an adult, meeting new people is a numbers game. All you can do is keep pushing yourself to meet new people. The more people you meet, the greater the odds of clicking with someone. If you're looking to meet like-minded people, go to places that are likely to have people who share your interests. If you don't hit it off with someone, simply move along. You don't have to be friends with everyone, do you?

Yet, you take every little social interaction so seriously that each step is like life or death - that's what makes socializing tiring, laborious, and unfun. Why not enter into every social interaction with an open mind and an open heart? Why not truly go with the flow, without having to undergo the repetitive ritual of predicting what will happen or fussing over what did happen?

6) Poor Emotional Intelligence: This point is the common thread that runs through the previous points, which is why I keep repeating the word "fear". You have extremely low tolerance for negative feelings and emotions, which means you really need to work on learning how to deal with your emotional life better. Any little sign that things won't turn out the way you want and you start to panic, overthink, blame, or flee. Why do you recoil from yourself and your own feelings and emotions? Why are you so easily shaken by boredom, awkwardness, invalidation, failing, other people's negativity, etc? Why do you react so badly to these things (when others just brush it off and keep going)?

7) Low Self-Awareness: It's not enough to just name the fear ("I'm afraid of____"). Does the label explain why you have this particular fear and not some other fear? It's not enough to blame the past ("It's because of ____"). Why did someone else with a similar past as yours not develop this fear? To get to the root of fear, you have to identify, in exact terms:

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

what aspect of your identity has to "die" (i.e. be let go of) in order to evaporate the fear

Until you answer the fear properly, it won't go away.