#and i feel like i should bring it up because i hate just self-diagnosing

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I am so happy you're back and seem to be doing even a little bit better! We missed you!

I wanted to send a little message, so you can ignore it if it sours your mood or you don't feel like dealing with it, feel no pressure at all! It's just this blog has been a safe space and the community has been so welcoming that I figured I could vent really quick

You know when sometimes the brain just has a really shitty day, like when you draw something and it screams at you that it's trash even though there's nothing wrong with it? I've been having a rough time with it deciding to scream that comfort characters would cheat, probably as an 'You are so unlovable not even fictional characters would be loyal' bullshit. Now, logically, I know this makes -67 sense. But, I was wondering if you could just reassure that like, Sanji, Mihawk, Buggy, Shanks, Crocodile, Blablablablabla long list of One Piece characters you write for, would not cheat? I'm sorry, this sounds lame to even write out but I'm trying to get my brain to stop thinking that asking for help is 'pathetic' because it is not and it only applies that logic to me, never to anyone else.

I dunno man. Brains and bring human ate both though af.

I missed all of you as well. Really and sincerely. I have a tendency to go radio silent when I'm going through a difficult time and I hate it immensely, but hearing that I was missed to makes me all

And yes, oh gods, I know. My brain is frequently my worst enemy. Especially when I'm not writing. My anxiety starts working overtime and my creative drive becomes dedicated to coming up with problems that could potentially happen for me to worry about even more and it's an absolute bitch; or even when I am actively creating and a little voice insists that everything I make is stupid garbage.

This is still very much and always will be a safe space. It definitely is awful to feel that unworthy of love. Full disclosure, I've mentioned in passing before that I've been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder depressive type. My main issue is auditory hallucinations that like to insist that everyone I love and care about only tolerate me out of pity and secretly would rather I not be around, which leads to me isolating myself from people. Huge part of the reason I go silent when life decides to be a bitch. I know it's just as bad feeling that way about comfort characters, if not even worse, when we're supposed to have them to help us get through that kind of bullshit.

So let me provide a little drabble for the one comfort character I’m certain wouldn’t ever allow us to continue being so silly about our worthiness of love and affection, because we’re all worthy of such a basic human need. I may do more later, but one in particular jumped at the opportunity to provide this comfort, and I fear he may counter me with his dreaded puppy-dog-eyes should I even dare attempt to wait.

Good Enough

OPLA!Sanji x AFAB!Reader

Lil drabble thingy

SFW, Hurt/Comfort

Possible TRIGGER WARNINGS for depression, insecurity, self-worth

♫♬ Moonshine ♬♫ — The Fratellis (yes I’m STILL on my Fratellis BS leave me be)

"Never knowing is the most evil feeling, when every answer here is none too appealing"

Sanji had always been a flirt. You knew that from the moment you started working on the wait staff at Baratie. Your trust issues had made it a little difficult for you to open up around the young sous chef (and occasional waiter on the frequent occasion that Zeff kicked him out of the kitchen for insubordination), but it was his outgoing nature and perseverance that had ultimately won you over. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only girl in the world when you were together, doting upon you, all but worshipping the ground you walked on.

But when he was sent out to work the dining area, it always made you nervous. His innate charm, his handsome features—he was nearly always a hit with female customers. No matter how much you told yourself that he was only doing his job, there was always a nagging feeling that maybe there was more to it than that. Watching him interact with a table of pretty young women, who by their clothing and demeanor were obviously far more affluent and sophisticated than you, left you distracted in your own work.

Seeing how they giggled at everything he said, how they fluttered their eyelashes when he brought them their drinks.

How the pretty blonde at the table leaned so close to him while he pointed to something on the menu, close enough to brush her hand across his.

You managed to spill a tray of drinks all over yourself while you were watching, leading to a scolding from the front of house manager. You saw the table of girls from the corner of your eye, giggling at your clumsiness before you were sent off to clean yourself up and change your uniform.

No matter how much you told yourself you were being silly, there was nothing you could do to shake it. The doubts, the thoughts of how easily he could find someone better than you. You had your jaw clenched the entire time you were changing your shirt in the staff restroom, tossing the soiled one aside as you leaned against the sink in front of the mirror and forced yourself to take slow, level breaths.

You were still on the clock. You couldn’t break down. You had to get changed, had to get back to work, had to pretend everything was fine, if he found out you were being so stupid about this then he would definitely drop you like a bad habit, you had to compose yourself or—

Knock knock.

Your eyes darted to the bathroom door, your breath catching in your throat at the sound of the light knock.

“J—just a minute,” you forced out, flinching at the sound of your own voice breaking a little.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, stop it stop it stop it—

A brief silence followed your answer, a silence that seemed to stretch on for miles despite lasting only a few seconds. The familiar, gentle voice that answered after a moment made your hands clench around the porcelain of the sink.

“You alright, love?” You drew in a sharp breath, swallowing, clenching your eyes shut. Of course it was Sanji. You had almost hoped that the manager had come scold you for taking too long. That would have been easier to deal with right now. Your eyes darted to the locked doorknob as it rattled a little. “I heard—”

“I’m fine,” you said immediately, the strained quality of your own words as they met your ears making your hands tighten a little more on the edge of the sink. “I—I just tripped and spilled a few drinks, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You gritted your teeth, laying your head back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course he wouldn’t let it go that easily. The doorknob rattled a little again, and you glanced at it as if it were a viper poised to strike out at you at any second.

Stupid, you’re being stupid, don’t—

“You sound—”

You reached out and turned the lock on the doorknob, and turned away from the door, crossing your arms over your half-buttoned shirt and stared down at your feet. After a long moment, you heard the door open behind you.

Evidently you didn’t look any less distressed than you felt. His quiet sigh met your ear as the door shut lightly and the lock turned. “Oh, love, it’s fine,” he said gently, his footfalls echoing quietly in the small bathroom, closing the short distance across the tile floor between the two of you. Your whole body tensed as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his forehead over the crown of your hair with a quiet chuckle. “It’s only a few drinks, it could happen to anyone.”

You shook your head, your shoulders shaking a little. Stupid, it was so stupid, but the words were already leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “Oh, yeah, anyone.” You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t. He had a way of pulling all your insecurities to the surface that no one else did. You pulled your crossed arms tighter, staring down at the white floor tiles for a moment before shutting your eyes tightly, your voice shaking a little. “Especially a dumb screw-up like me—”

“Don’t do that.” His tone came out a little sharper with this, and your breath hitched audibly in your throat this time, your shoulders hunching as you clenched your eyes shut tighter, swallowing back the lump in your throat. As if to counter your stiff posture, he pulled his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb rubbing lightly against your waist in a comforting manner. “Don’t, sweetheart. Please.”

The warmth of his embrace already had you relaxing a little. Your shoulders slumped, your body leaning back against him, but your eyes were still burning when you opened them to stare down at the toes of your shoes.

“Was it the manager?” he asked gently, shifting behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. “If he was being an ass I’ll gladly kick his ass off the docks.” Your breath left your lungs in a slow, trembling sigh as you shook your head no, your gaze drifting down to his hand at your hip, still rubbing lightly against you, your lips curling into a fleeting smile at his offer. You knew you were being stupid, but… “Then what’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice a soft, comforting murmur in your ear.

“I…” You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes as he tilted his head so his cheek lay against your shoulder. “Y—you—“

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat, drawing in a deep breath, trying and failing to steady the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind, thoughts of how maybe this was all a lie, of how you weren’t anything more than a silly little fling to him, how you weren’t good enough, how easily you could be replaced.

You bit your lip, glancing down as his hand found yours, watching his fingers lace between your own…and the breath left you in a slow, resigned sigh.

“It’s stupid,” you said quietly.

“If it’s got you this upset, then it’s anything but stupid,” he countered, and you had to purse your lips tightly to keep them from curving into a small smile as you felt his press briefly against your cheek in a soft kiss. “And if it’s something I’ve done—”

“N—no, you haven’t—” But how quickly you shook your head, how your shoulders tensed, betrayed your worries. “I…I just…” You slowly relaxed once more as he squeezed you against him, his cheek nuzzling against your shoulder, his soft blonde hair tickling against your neck. Still unable to turn your head to meet his eyes, you bit the bullet and forced yourself to voice your worries. “You have beautiful women making goo-goo eyes at you all day,” you said, keeping your voice low in an attempt to keep it steady. “I—I don’t—I’m not—” You bit your lip, your heart racing as you clenched your eyes shut, cursing yourself internally as you felt the tickle of a tear leaving your eye to trail down one of your cheeks. “Y-you could have any girl you wanted. L—like that blonde that was hanging all over you while you were showing her the menu, or—or—”

“Oh, sweetheart…” You weren’t quite able to mask the small sob that hitched in your chest as Sanji loosened his embrace—only to gently place a hand on your hip, guiding you to turn around and face him, to pull you against his chest as you tried and failed to fight back tears. He gently shushed your quiet sobs and stammered apologies as he wrapped his arms around you fully, combing his fingers through your hair as he laid his head over yours. Your eyes remained clenched shut as you fought to control your breathing , as he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead.

Sanji lowered his head and nuzzled into your hair, holding you flush against him.

“I already have the girl I want. The perfect girl.” He pressed another tender kiss to your temple, murmuring against your skin, “I have her right here in my arms. And I hope,” he said, his tone turning a little playful as he shifted to rest his forehead against yours, “that I’ll still have her tonight after dinner shift is over.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, smiling as he tilted his head to meet your gaze, puling a small smile to your lips as your cheeks grew a little warmer. “So we can cuddle up together on the balcony…watch the stars…laugh at all the drunk idiots stumbling back to their boats…”

You could practically hear him smiling as a few soft giggles escaped you, as you finally leaned fully against him and returned his embrace, your arms wrapping around his torso as you buried your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, relaxing against him. “I…I’m just…”

“I know, love.” The way he called you ‘love’ all but melted your heart now that you were calmed down, pulling a faint smile to your lips. “I know. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. And if it’s any consolation, I was in the middle of telling that self-righteous blonde bimbo how my sweet, adorable, beautiful girlfriend would wring her neck if she kept putting her hands on me—“ He chuckled as you whined in protest of his praise, tugging you closer and grinning, meeting your eyes without hesitation.

He lifted his hand to your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek, the warmth of his gaze holding yours.

“I—“

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

You both jolted in alarm, your heads turning in unison toward the sound of the pounding on the bathroom door. Before you could so much as glance at each other, a gruff voice spoke up from behind the door.

“We’re in the weeds, Eggplant!” Zeff called . “Get your scrawny ass to the kitchen! And bring your damned girlfriend, we need all the help we can get.”

A long moment of silence stretched between the two of you as you both stared at the closed bathroom door, before your gazes drifted slowly toward each other.

Before you were both giggling under your breath, as you buried your forehead against his chest, a broad smile spreading across your lips as you clung to him.

“I suppose we’ve been summoned,” said Sanji, pulling back from you only enough to gaze down at you, still smiling. “Shall we, then?”

[trashogram]

i’m gonna hop on the stolas hate train with you for a second. Do you know what i feel like he doesn’t get enough lashings for? His inability to see things from Blitzo’s point of view.

I’m sorry but despite being horrendously bad he is simultaneously one of most self absorbed characters ever. If he really loved Blitz to an up to par standard he’d be able to understand the HUGE power imbalance between them regardless of their feelings or time spent together. (might be a spoiler but i feel like you’ve seen it by now) but Blitz out burst to Stolas was super justified , i wouldn’t have done it personally, but i see where he’s coming from.

That moment itself was a rare vulnerable!blitz moment that stolas could’ve used to mend their relationship but instead he made it about Him AGAIN I CANT DO THIS😭😭😭 THEY SUCKKKK GOOD LORDD

I’m here to conduct this hate train, you’re more than welcome to come aboard.

Stolas has the characteristics of a Covert Narcissist (obviously he’s fictional, I can’t diagnose a fictional character or real person, but let’s tally it up shall we?):

Lack of Empathy — You hit that one

Sense of Entitlement — he thinks he’s entitled to Blitzø’s time and body, as well as Octavia’s unending patience and understanding when he fucks up and fucks around on her and their family)

Taking advantage of others for personal gain — the whole deal with the fuckdamn Grimoire

Hyper-focusing on fantasies of grandeur — Stolas is King Delusion thinking his obsession with Blitzø is at all equivalent to love, or even liking someone. He also deludes himself into thinking he knows his own child but he ignores her wants when she literally runs away from him on two separate occasions bc he’s not fucking listening to her.

Exhibit passive-aggressive behavior, arrogance, or subtle superiority — Ppl don’t clock this as much as they should but I’ve noticed and gagged at his belittling “pet names” for Blitzø (impish little plaything, itty bitty imp) and how when Moxxie and Millie try to speak to him, Stolas either treats them with disdain/like peasants or doesn’t even look at them when they speak! Not even bringing up how he uses his own imp staff as stress-relieving toys.

Highly sensitive to criticism — Can’t take being called out, has to cry and run away from the truth that Blitzø (and Stella and Octavia) are spitting

Victim Mentality — it’s everyone else in this damn bird’s life that’s to blame instead of himself. “I think so highly of you, I didn’t realize you thought so low of me.”

Fuck. You. Stolas.

I’m sorry this is a wild rant but to be fair it is the Stolas Hate Train (SHT, we should implement an I in there). Obviously I don’t hate his fans. Like what you like. Please. However, I may have some concerns over how young HB fans can get and how they don’t truly see how terribly this character is written because they accept the framing of Stolas as the poor victim in this situation at face value and don’t see it for what it really is, but I’m not their parents. And hopefully the younger audience will grow up and also think “ew”. At the very least.

I would like to know if the HB writers, and her majesty Vivienne Medrano, realize that they’re framing the Abuser in this situation as the victim but have dug this hole so deep that they just have to keep digging bc there’s no going back or if they genuinely think their targeted audience of adults don’t see through this or haven’t had to deal with abusive relationships themselves.

[amykiriwosdefenselawyer]

Chapter 325 thoughts (Spoilers!)

First off, Baal deserves every minute of stress from Shura. :D

This panel is interesting because Return to Origins is supposed to be a "permanent wicked phase" and Baal is already RtO. Then again, I don't feel like that description should be taken at full face value, because it's not like our RtO gang are constantly stressed out or pissed off and going on rampages, they're just evil with bad morals.

So I guess it's an evil demonic equivalent of someone like being diagnosed with depression or a personality disorder or something and it affects all facets of their life and personality, but of course they'll have times where it's triggered worse, like depressive/manic episodes or panic attacks etc.

After all, wicked phases make a demon lose all sense of inhibition and self-preservation, and Baal needs to be strategic and tactical, so he can't have that

Nice detail with Kiriwo's eyes being RtO though!

Plus the fact he really doesn't discriminate with who he likes seeing in pain 😭

Next up. Poro-chan. Poro is genderfluid because I said so, and based advice.

Next, ATORI I MISSED YOUR GRIN SO MUCH ahhhhhhhh also nice shirt and tank top (I wanna see him without the former and just the latter (time to draw that then))

Ocho is back! I used to hate him and then grow indifferent towards him but he's funny in my book now

Also what the hell is that height difference? Atori is 192cm and Kiriwo is 162cm but that does NOT look like a ruler's difference but then again this is the Netherworld and logic doesn't exist probably

I wanna climb Atori like a tree

Oh they are so silly I will cry of joy they are such lovable fools I was screaming at this scene for minutes straight and also Poro is based again

I forgot Ocho was part of that Number 2 cult, thank you Nishi

This brings me immense fucking joy to my dead ass heart 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖🥺🥺🥺🥺 Look at them, the three musketeers who dirty Baal's floor

Also did Atori retract his tail? Huh, nice

It's funny how it was fanon that Ocho and Kiriwo hated each other from the post-Harvest Festival scene but yeah turns out Kiriwo was just being a little possessive and they're all so silly

I wanna be friends with them now aaaahh maybe we'll see the other Six Fingers maybe they'll have silly little evil villain sleepover parties or something

Baal needs more mental breakdowns over Shura. He deserves it

Very good chapter, I am fed

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Having a Partner With Bipolar Disorder

A/N: I have Bipolar II, so I can only write from my own experience and what I do to cope. I wrote a Peaky Blinders request similar to this, too ages ago. Know that I'm not trying to glamorize or romanticize anything. I just have a really hard time seeing myself be in a relationship with anyone because of this disorder and I fear no one will love me or someone like me because of all this 😅 I just want this to be sweet for anyone going through the same things I do! 💜💜💜

Connor has no idea what you're talking about. You seem fine, right? It's only when you finally break down, exhausted from keeping up the facade, do you tell him that you have Bipolar Disorder. He's heard of it of course, but not in the terms you're thinking of. In jokes about his dad being "so bipolar", about the weather being "so bipolar", but not like this. He sits you down, hating that you thought you needed to hide this from him, that you were using every last bit of your energy and focus to keep yourself together. You weren't even doing a very good job, you thought, canceling your last date because you couldn't leave your house. He asks a lot of clarifying questions, needing to understand what it is, why you have it, how long you've had it. It runs in your family, and you've had it for a long time. You're managing things with medications and therapy, but it doesn't stop these episodes from happening, not completely. The next question he asks brings tears to your eyes: how can I help? No one's ever asked that. They dismiss you, saying you don't have it because you're not explaining your entire history, your every thought, to them. Or they shake their heads/roll their eyes, not wanting to hear or care about it, like you should stop talking about it. Connor wants to be there through everything, even the hard parts. He's not giving up on you or your relationship like you feared. He cares about you, every part of you, and nothing will ever change that. He assures you, nothing.

Kendall isn't sure what to say besides okay. He knows you're in therapy, that you take meds at night, but he doesn't really give it a second thought. Not until he finds you standing in the scalding shower, date night clothes on and soaking wet, does he start asking questions. You can't answer, give a coherent one at least. Your skin won't stop crawling and this is the only way to make it better. It's the only way to regulate without doing something self-destructive. You stand there for as long as you need. It's not until a few days later that you tell him you have Bipolar Disorder. Okay. That you're beginning to feel manic. Okay. That you can go through periods of mania and depression. Okay. That the hot water helps. Okay. That you're not a danger to anyone else or yourself. Okay. That you're in therapy, that you're taking your meds, that if he doesn't want to be with you anymore you'd understand. That knocks the wind out of him. What? That's not at all what he wants to do. You know that he's not understanding the full weight of your words, that he's only seen you hypo/manic, the fun, bubbly, lively you. He hasn't seen you depressed, he hasn't seen you crash like you will soon. You ask him to take a break, until you're back to stable. He asks how long that will be. You're not sure. After about a week he shows up at your doorstep, unable to be without you. You still remain careful, explaining everything to him, making sure he knows what he's getting into. You're still not convinced despite the years you've been together. Kendall isn't worried. He'll be with you through it all. Everything.

Shiv I love shiv she's so pretty knows quite a bit about it. She took a psych class in college hoping to diagnose a few family members. She understands the basics, the two ends of the spectrum, but she's never met anyone with it. At least, that she knows of. She finds out about it the first night you sleep over at her house. You think you're being quiet with the pill bottles, but she's quieter, making you jump as she appears out of nowhere. You say they're for sleep, but she knows better. You try to shrug it off like it's nothing, but she wants to talk about it. You can't meet her eyes when you explain everything. The reason she's never been to your place is because you've been depressed lately and it's a mess and it's taking everything out of you just to show up to work. She holds your hand through all this, playing with your fingers, a sign that she's worried. You think you've ruined it all. She must hate you for deceiving you like this. Instead she grabs her bag and walks you to the car. From there you go to your apartment where she starts cleaning. You're so embarrassed at the state of things, but she doesn't seem to mind. She never wants to hear your voice crack like that again, she never wants you to be so full of guilt and shame like that again. You'll figure it out together, you will, she promises you. She'll help you every step of the way.

Roman at first makes a joke about it. You knew he would. He's seen you at your lowest, he's seen your scars, he's heard all the horror stories. You're not trying to scare him away with this, you just need him to know that sometimes things can get very bad and he needs to be prepared for that if he wants to be with you. You've been together a long time before you work up the courage to tell him, though he's suspected something for a while. You couldn't get out of your bed, you weren't eating, you were sleeping and crying and shaking all day. You'd completely shut him out, not answering his calls or texts. He deserved an explanation that wasn't a half-assed apology. It all makes sense now. So, what, now I'm dating two people for the price of one? You're being vulnerable and all he has to say is that? Once he sees the look of hurt on your face, he immediately apologizes, over and over again. Of course he can make jokes about it, you'd prefer if he did instead of never bringing it up again, just not right now when you're trying to have a serious conversation. You tell him that if he wants to call it quits, he can, that you would totally understand. You know it's not easy living with you, dealing with all this, at least he has the chance to leave. That's what he calls you crazy for, for thinking he would leave you over something like this. He's seen you as your worst and he loves you more than life itself. Not despite it, not out of ignorance or because he feels like he should, he just does. Bipolar Disorder won't change that. Nothing will. You're stuck with him.

[chappellrroan]

fave Gracie Abrams songs and albums and lyrics?

her minor ep is my favourite personally because that's how i got to know her and became a fan, as for songs two people, i know it won't work, will you cry?, right now, block me out, 21, friend, i miss you i'm sorry, unlearn, brush fire, mean it, stay, mess it up, for real this time, camden are my all time fav from her released songs.

as for lyrics there are two aspects that depends on determining if i love them, for example in i know it won't work, i love how she sings "it won't work like that, huh?" but lyrically i like "i am your ghost now your house is haunted" so you can guess. anyways i will give my fav lyrics from my fav songs now <3

two people - "i loved you so hard for a time i've tried to ration it all my life, we could go yellow to black overnight i take you for granted because you're mine" (it's long but yes yes this) ALSO "cause you know everything that could kill me"

already mentioned for i know it won't work

will you cry? - "now you walk through me with my heart heavy breaking my reverie i could die early with your arms around me would it not kill to say goodbye?" AND "it's kinda funny how it goes from all to nothing you have to laugh before you start to cry"

right now - "and i ended a friendship on the day that i left and though i really meant it, it still makes me upset" (OUCH TOO REAL)

block me out - "i think i am burning alive but nobody sees the fire cause when i open my mouth i seem to be stuck in silence" AND "plus after all this time i should be a pretty crier"

21 - "i see the look in your eye and i'm biting my tongue, you'd be the love of my life when i was young" and "i get a little bit alone and sometimes i miss you again, i'll be the love of your life inside your head"

friend - "and i hate the way you love and i hate that i still care funny how you feel like we could ever talk again, how could you ever think i'd be your friend?" (applies to SO many people atp this is my lifesong)

i miss you i'm sorry - "thought you'd hate me instead you called in, said i miss you, i caught it" and the whole bridge honestly because NOTHING HAPPENED IN THE WAY I WANTED EVERY CORNER OF THIS IS HAUNTED AND I KNOW YOU SAID WE'RE NOT TALKING BUT I MISS YOU, I'M SORRY, I DON'T WANNA GO THINK I WILL MAKE IT WORSE EVERYWHERE I GO LEADS ME BACK TO US (i am very passionate about this song sorry)

unlearn - "i keep bringing all my problems to a pillow fight" and "cause if i'm gonna learn how to love you i need to unlearn how to love too need to unlearn when it feels right OH MY GOD I AM TRYING"

brush fire - "then we become a brush fire, burning all the pain HOW CAN WE SURVIVE A DESERT WITHOUT RAIN?" and "boy you know what to say before i turn away you words hit me like a hard rain in L.A"

mean it - "holding onto thin lines until we just walk between them, getting so loud i can't pretend that i dont hear them, maybe that thing you said under your breath you mean it, i know you mean it"

stay - the whole chorus honestly because COULD YOU HOLD ME WITHOUT ANY TALKING? WE COULD TRY TO GO BACK TO WHERE WE STARTED I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO STAY I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO STAY BUT IF I WOKE UP WITH YOU IN THE MORNING I'D FORGET ALL THE WAYS WE'RE BROKEN I DON'T CARE IF YOU HAVE CHANGED I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO STAY

mess it up - "heard that you're happier hope you're sleeping well knowing i'm not, i am doing too much" and "and everytime i get too close i just go mess it up" AND "i keep thinking maybe if you let me back in we can make it better breaking every habit pull myself together you can watch it happen make it happen" (the mv has very special space in my heart btw)

for real this time - "a thousand times i got up to say goodbye i could be wrong but i think i'm for real this time"

camden - "self diagnosing till i'm borderline i will do whatever helps to sleep at night" and "somebody take over drive somebody notice how i'm trying" and "all of me, a wound to close but i leave the whole thing open i just wanted you to know i was never good at coping" (one of the best bridges ever)

[irishsparkleparty]

venting about my mom under the cut because twitter got rid of circles for some reason

My sisters and I have a really complicated relationship with my mom and I just need to get some things off my chest that's not ranting to my girlfriend haha

mom is a clinically diagnosed narcissist and i'm pretty sure she's a hypochondriac. EVERY time we talk she brings up some new medical diagnosis or treatment she's trying. She'll also tell me that I might have some disorder or complication and I should get it checked out EVERY SINGLE TIME WE TALK. it makes me so paranoid about things wrong with me!!! she also overshares and tells me some really disturbing things that I should never know as her child. I don't care that I'm almost 30.

i also realized recently how parentified i was due to this. I didn't really get to enjoy my teenage years from the age of 12 because I was always looking after my siblings and cooking and cleaning because I'm the oldest.

it came to my attention recently that when my second youngest sister moved out of the house my youngest sister basically took care of herself from the age of 10. 10 YEARS OLD. and my mom wonders why she doesn't like her that much!!

something happened earlier this year that I don't want to go into detail about, but was very traumatic for me and my sisters. At the end of it one of my sisters took in our youngest to live with her (she is a minor and I live multiple states away) and is working two jobs to support her. my mom had money she promised to spend on them but only gave them a small portion and USED THE REST FOR HER OWN BILLS. my sister had to go ask our dad just to get mattresses.

because of all this bullshit going on my sisters haven't gone to visit her that much (understandably) and she's becoming attention starved. my mom does have a history of suicide attempts in the last few years. but recently she's been self-harming to get my sisters' attention and sympathy.

i don't know what to do about this but it's tearing up my sisters with guilt and I just don't know what to do.

it's so sosososo hard to discern with my mom what's genuine and what she says and does for our attention. it makes me paranoid and doubt myself and i hate having to analyze everything she does

My mom recently offered to pay for a plane ticket so I could visit everyone in the spring around my birthday. I was really grateful and excited until she said her only condition would be that I have to stay in her house the whole time. I...... don't know how to feel about this.

I love my mom. she's done many great and kind things for us. but all of this just makes it so hard and so complicated and a lot of the time i don't know how to feel about her.

I'll most likely accept her offer. I don't have money for a plane ticket any time soon and I want to see my sisters and dad.

anyway rant over lol thank you if you read *gestures* all that

[borealtwilight]

sorry i saw your tags on the picky eating posts - would you be willing to talk about ARFID? ive also got it and it fuckin SUCKS man. especially as an adult who should “just get over it”

Hey!

I will start things off by saying that I'm not officially diagnosed, as such, but the shit my brain pulls pretty much lines up with what ARFID is, so I like to say I'm self-diagnosed ( I highly doubt I am ever going to be able to obtain a professional diagnosis, and this is stuff I have put up with for as long as I can remember, so! ).

You are absolutely not alone. It sucks. It's miserable. Being able to eat safe foods is just not always feasible.

If I'm out an about, and I cannot find a Safe Food ( aka something my brain deems me able to eat ), it upsets me. It leaves me cranky, tired, hungry, and feeling like a piece of shit, because I cannot go out and just buy anything like anyone else. I need to find something that I am able to eat. Why? Who knows! I'm just saddled with a brain that's wired this way.

And I'm sick of the stigma. The bullshit. Of seeing posts on tumblr and twitter and reddit of someone asking how to deal with bringing their own food to a social event, and people mocking the original poster in the replies, calling that person a ""picky eater"".

I've been there. I've been judged by my extended family for requiring my mom to help me find food to eat if I know ahead of time that there won't be food available that I can eat. And yes, some of these adults are ""picky eaters"" themselves ( for reasons I don't know ) which makes it all the more bullshit... and hypocritical. Even if they don't say anything, I can feel their stares, and it makes me uncomfortable. I feel embarrassed and ashamed.

I just want to feel normal about it.

I hate the fact that my brain will think about me eating food that's perfectly normal and going "no actually we will throw up if we try to eat this" or "this looks bad textured, this is not going into our mouths", or declaring, during a mouthful of a safe food meal, "hey! we don't like this! we have the Urge To Throw Up if we keep eating this, so please spit out your current mouthful and get rid of the meal". It makes me feel abnormal and wrong to experience shit like this, and lack the words to be able to explain the fact that I, hands down, cannot eat what my brain refuses to let me eat, and that I cannot just "get over it".

What's so wrong about a grown-ass adult eating a meal out at a restaurant that you'd find only kids eating ( e.g. a bowl of chips ), because it's the only thing on the menu they know they are able to eat? Absolutely nothing, I say.

So screw anyone who makes you feel like a piece of shit for eating differently to everyone else. You already have to deal with your brain doing that, for crying out loud!

[wizardsinnards]

Even though I was diagnosed autistic as a child, my psychologist told me that I'm a late diagnosed autistic. This is because my parents hid it from me until I brought it up with them a few months ago, after my childhood best friend told me about it a year ago, and I'm only just beginning to consider what being autistic means to me.

Because of this, I revisited a core memory from my childhood. Something I spent years hating myself for.

The year is 2008, I'm 4 years old, it's been around a year (maybe less) since I've been diagnosed. Today, I want chocolate ice cream in a cone, like a Cornetto or something. I really wanted one. So my dad took me out to buy me one, just the two of us. He drove me around, went into the store to get me a single chocolate ice cream cone, and let me eat it in the car.

I remember he bought me about four different chocolate ice creams that I just didn't want. I don't remember if I struggled with any sort of texture or temperature sensitivities back then, I just know they upset me. When he got me what might've been a fifth one, I started having a meltdown, and the first thing I did was throw this open ice cream cone at him and I'm crying.

He doesn't get mad, he barely reacts to me at all. He just looks down at the floor. I don't remember what happens after that, if my dad ever found an ice cream cone that made me happy despite me not being able to communicate what I wanted. My memory stops there, and life goes on.

I think the first time that memory resurfaced was when I was 8. I feel like I'm a bad child. I think about when my father could only bear to look at the floor of his car. I started thinking about that look on his face. Does he think I'm a bad child? Does he think I'm a burden? Does he hate his life?

For some extra context, I was homeschooled at the time and wouldn't enter formal education for another two years. The local homeschooling community which I saw once a week was very friendly to me, as most of those kids (in my experience) were also autistic or had a learning disability. I wasn't teased or bullied, I hadn't started masking, I didn't have the struggles I have today.

But because I didn't know I was autistic, I hated myself. If I had some understanding about why I rejected five ice creams and started crying I would show myself some understanding. Instead I was asking myself how I could ever make up for my wrongdoing.

My parents have never brought the chocolate ice cream memory up with me. I've never told anyone else this, either. That's the worst thing about all this, I hated myself without anyone telling me I should. All because my parents thought they could save my self esteem.

The years went on, and the list of people my parents hid my diagnosis from grew. Churches, youth leaders, schools, principals, teachers, the parents of any friends I made. I don't know enough to say if this was a good call or not, just to say that growing up there was no one who was able to tell me that I was "unique" or whatever euphemism I assume they would use. I never had a clue of what I should've learned about myself. So I hated myself for this one memory for years.

From eight to eighteen the chocolate ice cream memory has resurfaced at least once a year, bringing shame and sorrow with it. I hope that now I can lay my misplaced guilt to rest. I don't think I can reframe the day my dad drove me around trying to find an ice cream I liked as a happy memory, I don't remember liking any of the ice cream and my dad being patient with me was just the treatment I deserved. I just want to forget it for good.

[jianghuchild]

WIP Wednesday

Funny story: if any of you have watched Guo Ba Yin (i.e. if you were in China in the 90s probably), you know it ends with the male lead being implied to have died. Here's the thing: I'm pretty sure he got diagnosed in canon with ALS? But the medication he gets is neostigmine, which is used for myasthenia gravis. Which, while a serious disorder, isn't quite a fatal.

Basically this inspired a fix-it where they discover he was misdiagnosed and he has to deal with living for longer than he thought he was going to.

The reason I'm now posting this is that 1) I don't think I'm ever gonna finish it, 2) it's quite non-existent fandomwise, so there's not much point posting on ao3, and 3) I realized that his on-screen symptoms actually do match MG, the doctors never say the words ALS, and this was an age where MG could have been terminal. So I'm not sure how much of a fix-it this would be in canon anyway.

(Btw, this is the show I made my first and only ever video edit for.)

Title: And die...? | 就死，吗？

Jia Ling bites her lip, feet tucked under herself. She’s moved back to the dorm after breaking up with Charlie, and honestly it isn’t too bad. Both Du Mei and Fang Yan have been more than supportive, and…

Right. Fang Yan. Jia Ling twists the empty vial in her manicured fingers. Her nail traces the edge of the label. After a moment, she comes to a decision. Jia Ling pushes herself off her bed and picks up the phone down the hall. She dials the number and waits for it to ring.

“Yes?”

“Du Mei. Is Fang Yan there?”

A pause. Du Mei insists she’s forgiven her, but the betrayal probably still stings. No, Jia Ling knows it does. “He’s gone to bed. Did you need something?”

“Listen, can I come over tomorrow? I need to speak. To both of you,” she adds. She’d prefer to only speak to Fang Yan—she knows how Du Mei can get worked up over these things—but the thought of seeing him alone makes Jia Ling’s skin crawl with self-loathing.

Another pause, this one less wary. “Alright. Come over at five. I’ll make dinner.”

[...]

Fang Yan dislikes himself. Not hate, he’s not so dramatic as that. (Or maybe he is, considering the charade he pulled with Jia Ling. Maybe Du Mei just brings out the drama in him.)

Anyway the point is that he used to like himself. He’s not a fool, he knows he’s good-looking, that he’s charming and can get girls to like him. But he also dislikes that about himself. That he’s caused Du Mei so much grief.

“So,” Du Mei starts, in that way she does when she doesn’t want him to know something’s bothering her, which is often these days, “Jia Ling is coming over for dinner tonight.”

Fang Yan presses his lips together and quashes a jolt of anxiety. For a second he thinks, What’s she playing at now? But immediately he feels guilty for it, and only says, “Ah.” He won’t spend his last few years fighting with the woman he loves.

[...]

Jia Ling twists her fingers while Du Mei busies herself with a platter of fruit. Fang Yan fiddles with a cigarette but doesn’t light it, elbows on his knees. Du Mei sets down the fruit with a clatter and seats herself in the cavity of Fang Yan’s side.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asks Jia Ling.

Jia Ling bites her lip. “When…” Her eyes dart up to meet Fang Yan’s, then down again. “When Fang Yan was at my place,” and here she shifts in her seat, and Fang Yan closes his arm around Du Mei’s waist, “he had an episode.” She falls silent.

“Yes,” he prompts her, “I remember. You gave me a shot.”

Jia Ling twists this way and that, opens her mouth again and again.

“Oh, bother,” she blurts. “Du Mei, see here.” She presses something into his wife’s hand. “This is what I gave him.”

Du Mei opens her palm. It’s a tiny vial, the contents empty. On the label Fang Yan barely makes out the words Xin Si Di Ming.

“I don’t know why, or what I was thinking,” Jia Ling rambles, “And I thought long and hard whether I should tell you, because I don’t want to get your hopes up, and I could be wrong, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t—”

“Jia Ling.”

Fang Yan’s heart stutters. His wife—his darling wife, who cries and never holds back—sounds close to tears. She takes two shuddering breaths against his side, and Fang Yan hates himself because he can do nothing but run his hand along her arm.

“You gave him this? You’re sure?”

“It came out of that vial exactly.”

“Why?”

Jia Ling shrugs helplessly. “It came from the hospital. By all accounts, it was misprescribed. But it worked.”

Fang Yan’s head is all mist. “What’s going on?”

“Please, Du Mei.” Jia Ling presses their hands together. “I really, really don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“I understand.” Du Mei offers a watery smile. “Thank you.”

Jia Ling nods a little uncertainly and gets up. She gives Fang Yan a complicated look—one he can’t quite decipher—and leaves, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Du Mei bursts into tears. Fang Yan scrambles, repositions them on the couch so he’s holding her fully.

“Hey, whoa, alright, hush now.” He strokes her back as she wraps herself around his waist and burrows, shaking like a leaf in his arms. “Hey now.” He softens his voice, lowers his chin to get a look at her. “What’s wrong?”

Du Mei pulls away. She sniffs violently and swipes at her face with the back of her hand, then turns to grab her jacket.

“Where are you going?” Fang Yan makes to get up, but his leg buckles beneath him. Du Mei is at his side immediately, helping him into his coat.

“We’re going to the hospital.” Fang Yan grabs her fumbling fingers. Du Mei fixes dark, watery eyes on him. “Neostigmine doesn’t work for ALS. You’ve been misdiagnosed.”

And she says it with such conviction, and suddenly Fang Yan is thinking of the day they first got married, walking into an empty classroom and the way she said, You love me and that’s enough, with the exact same certainty.

“I went to three different hospitals,” he tells her, softly, because he doesn’t want her to break. “They all said the same thing.”

“Then why did they give you neostigmine?” Her curls swing about with the force of her shaking head. “We’ll go to the hospital. If they don’t get it right, we’ll go to another one.”

“Alright.” Fang Yan stoops down and stills the hands tugging shoes onto his feet. “But let’s go tomorrow, hm? I’ll hardly die overnight.”

Du Mei glares. “Don’t you dare say that.”

[...]

The doctor rubs his face. “Curious,” he murmurs. “Yes, very curious.”

“Well, doc? Spit it out.”

“Fang Yan.”

“Come on, am I dying or not?”

“Well,” he begins, “You’re right that neostigmine isn’t usually given for ALS. Whoever wrote it for you made a mistake.” He squints at the report. “You know, medical intuition is a funny thing. The way your symptoms present themselves are almost textbook ALS. But there must have been something to make them give you neostigmine.”

Fang Yan clicks his tongue. “Come on, now. Give it to me straight.”

The doctor waffles a little more. “We’ll need to do more tests.”

[...]

A week later, the verdict comes. “Myasthenia gravis. Considering the aggressive onset of your symptoms, I’m not surprised you got misdiagnosed, even by three different hospitals.” The doctor offers Fang Yan a small smile. “It also has no cure, but unlike ALS, it’s not a death sentence.”

“A war of attrition,” Du Mei says. Her arms circle his shoulders tightly.

“Precisely.”

“So, what?” Fang Yan asks. “Ten years, eight years? Three, five?”

“No, no.” The doctor removes his tiny glasses, wipes them on the edge of his sleeve, and perches them back on his nose. “The prognosis is quite good. I would keep an eye on symptom progression”–this he addresses to Du Mei–“given the unusual onset, but otherwise you can expect to lead a more or less normal life, given proper and timely treatment.”

“A normal life…”

[benefits1986]

Unlikely Friends: Matthew, Anhedonia & Sangria

When life's highs and lows look and feel the same, what's left of you, really?

I gave Friends so many good tries from then until now; however, I'd choose Big Bang reruns as my white noise anytime. You see, the whole cast looked too polished and that their jokes maybe spot on, but I can't seem to get why they had to look too skinny and too mainstream. This was back in grade school in local TV and up until now. So, let's be clear with that.

Of course, I don't say this out loud as much especially when I have close friends who swear by this series. To each their own. Besides, one of the guys I dated has a complete Friends Lego set and bona fide fan, so, ayun na nga. Hahahahaha.

Anyway, I was moved by the last post of Matthew Perry. I liked him a lot in The Whole Nine Yards which dad and I watched in our generic VCD player several times. Good copy pa! Those good old days. I have been interacting with a good number of Gen X the past years and I must say that this bunch may be having a tougher time than Gen MZ.

As a graphic example, when my ina died, my tita who's a menopausal babe, reached out to me several times. She wanted to understand why she has been feeling unexplainably sad even when she knew that we all fought a good fight for and with my ina. She even asked, is this what depression feels like? Ang gara pala. Ito na ba talaga 'yun or baka nalulungkot lang talaga ako.

I could have dropped bombs everywhere, but, in the name of choosing to be kinder, I took several deep and deeper breaths. While I lost my mom, every experience is unique. In the same plane that our DNA are only ours (for now), death of a loved one is universal and inescapable.

I told her that depression should be clinically diagnosed but there are telltale signs. I asked her to take a break instead of indulging in her busy schedule. I requested that she may reach out to close friends who've undergone the same route for moral support. She can't explain why she knows she is okay but something is off. She has been updating me ever since but I try my best to keep a safe distance.

So, Matthew is a Gen X. Had to look it up because '69 looks like a boomer and Paperback Writer by The Beatles landed no. 1 in Billboards in that year, June 25 to be exact.

What hits home hard is his story about how phenobarbital was given to him to tame his crazy cries. My brother also took these highly addictive drugs to cure his meningitis. I never thought that my brother had a mental situation growing up. All I saw was that he's a special case and he was spoiled to death. LOL. All I felt was that he was my cross to bear and I am but a Christmas elf who slaves of my fat ass all-year round. While I totally understood that he is a special case to infinity and beyond, somehow, I care for him in a unique way. He and I may have a love-hate-hate-love-hate-hate relationship, but I'm keeping my promise mom forced me literally before she breathed her last breath. Hahahahahaha. Shemay.

This book also tackles anhedonia, my TIL. Wow. As in. It has been a term that's been in existence since 1897 from Theodule Ribot. Damn. So, this is what I may be feeling for a long time. Sakto lang lahat. Kaya lahat. Matatawid lahat. However, there are glimmers amidst the triggers.

Truth is, one of the fuck ups of the depressive state is trying not to feel too happy. There's this feeling that being too happy will just bring me back to the rabbit hole once the euphoria dies. 'Yung alam naman ng rational self ko na happiness is but a feeling pero ayoko siyang i-embrace. Sakit. 'Yung masyadong tinatalinuhan ang arguments instead of just riding the waves of emotions and waiting for the other waves to come, because they will come naman. Circle of life baga.

Coming across anhedonia at this time in my life coupled with Gabor Mate, Brene Brown and my so-called slow growth szn, may I be able to choose to be happy, instead of being too RBF. Okay. Fine. Puwede namang RBF pero may emotions na rin, kahit onti. Speaking of not feeling anything, let me share why I love unli sangria. Eto na po. Siguro eto 'yung drink na very nostalgic.

I attended a wedding way back and I had liters of sangria because ansarap. Legit. Dun ko first time sinagad 'yung aking lakas because I don't drink irresponsibly. Hindi ako ganun. But that night, solid na solid. As in nagtanggal na ako ng high heels at naka slippers na lang ako. Hahaha. Buti, mababait kasama ko. Safe space. So ayun na nga. The feeling that unli sangria gave me was to feel high and the flat line as in super sarap ng tulog ko na parang wala na ako sa earth levels is just sooooo precious. As an overthinker, wine pacifies me. Nakakalma ako, in style pa kuno. Hahahahahahah. Saka it keeps me up as well. 'Yung may kick siya talaga as in. Poetic shitballs pa because the wine glass is just too sexy for me. Ewan ko ba. Hindi siya because of soshal or mainstream kasi I like drinking sangria alone best. Nakakarami po tayo like wtf. 'Pag may kasama kasi, social thing siya. May certain social grace kahit ubusan pa rin ng lakas at budget. Plus, ang mahal ng sangria ha! E ang dali lang naman gawain nun. :p And mura pa.

A reminder lang din na don't mix anhedonia and sangria unless gusto ko ng mapunta sa beyond ng infinity real quick. Very timely ito since I'm feeling that I'm authentically healing bit by bit na after 11 years of being stuck in the rabbit hole. It's still a daily struggle na mala-EDSA meets raining in Manila vibe. It's still a constant choice na hindi birong piliin at maraming back-sliding. It's still a leap of faith. It's still growing in my defunct system that's fortified with my trusted trust issues. LOL. But, things could be better and so could be the world, or the universe, rather.

While hearing his stories, Matthew is now my official unlikely Friend. I can't help but think that he might have this planned all along. Kung baga, his death made a stronger statement in a taboo kahit pa sabihing progressive tayong lahat. Thank you, Matthew for showing us your super flawed life and demise. May it remind us that while drinking and smoking are therapeutic, they don't numb the pain. I've shared this a good number of times, but lemme share it again and again. What's wore than being numb of pain? It's still feeling the pain even when you're numbed by alcohol, drugs, sex and all forms of addiction.

Glad to know my current org has an HMO for mental health. It also makes me feel good that we have 30 wellness leaves and in my team, there's a mental health advocate who happens to be a good friend, too. :) 'Di ba? The universe is finally aligning. Kaya hirap mag-yes sa ibang invites to be honest kahit super tempting. Sana talaga magkaroon ng forever work from anywhere set up. Sana.

I have yet to finish this 5-hour audio book, but, I'd like to write this out here and now.

[shoppingshoppingshoppingshopping]

What It Wasn’t That It Isn’t - New Album!

Listen/purchase: What It Wasn't That It Isn't by Local Teen

Aye yo!

New album!

So these tunes were started late 2018 early 2019. It took maybe 6 months to shape them into what they are now. Actually, lemme go check on that. I looked at the file dates and it looks like I started shaping these in early Feb 2023 so that's about 4-5 months. I have probably 100+ songs to shape up and finish so at this rate it's going to take me 4-5 years to where I am releasing songs I wrote within the past 6 months. I am getting better at making songwriting and production choices that make the process faster but change is glacial. Like I finally figured out that I need to carve out 100-150hz for the bass to be heard on the bluetooth speaker I use to check my mixes on. Usually that means I can hear it in my airpods which are not known for decent bass. Anyway, Let's move on. I finally got diagnosed with ADHD last year so if it's obvious to you that tangents can take me away from my original point then good for you for figuring it out wayyy before I did.

ok first song:

Living in a fantasy: This one goes hand in hand with another song on the album. I won't say which but they both have the same chords. I came up with a chord structure I love and tried it maybe 8 different ways. I kept working on each version until I ended up with 2 completely different sounding songs. I didn't make a conscious choice to make them different. I just kept following what it sounded like and seeing what my subconscious wanted to add to these songs. Even now when I hear them they do not sound like to my ears at all. The lesson here (and I am saying this to myself) is that you can completely steal from someone else and still make it your own. So don’t worry that someone else will notice. It’s not a ripoff if it’s coming from your nondecision making place.

I love the drums on this. That beat comes so naturally to me that I can play it reasonably in time with very very few edits to the drums. Unlike other beats where there’s a lot of chopping up to make it sound like a decent drummer is on the track. (I’m not a good drummer but boy do I love playing drums).

I spent a lot of time shaping these words to make sense. I usually hear a line in my head then lay it down and listen back. Often my first choices are so cringe. Like “will you be cool when I put up a fight” was originally “will you be cool or put up a fight” and that sounded super rapey. Then when I switched it to the narrator's point of view that was way more interesting since it’s a dude saying it. This song also was way longer. Keith tells me my songs are often too long so I chopped it down before I even sent it to him.

Also, I fucking HATE when dogs jump on me. That had just happened twice that week when I sang the line “keep that goddamn dog away from me”. It should have been cathartic but instead it's just kind of bringing me back to that awful powerless, unsafe feeling (I’m avoiding saying “Trauma” here because I dislike the overuse of the term in pop culture but this is the term my therapist uses and I think devalues its meaning). I often explore the bad feelings I have in my music. But I’m pretty sure that doesn’t make things feel better when they come up. But it’s better in that it’s out there and I can accept who I am a little more. And that’s a big chunk of what making music brings me is closer to self acceptance. I make what I make and I need to feel happy that I can make stuff and not feel bad that I can’t make stuff that appeals to more people or meets the standards I want to hit.

At the end of the song is a clip of my baby girl that I recorded as a drop for the how neal feel podcast which I sprinkled in I think one more time on the record.

2 tengo miedo - means “I’m scared” in spanish. And I do hate when people say “I’m not going to lie”. I get that it’s supposed to sound like they are being honest but really what I hear is “I usually lie but in this rare case I will tell the truth”. Also “tengo miedo” is more fun to sing than “im scared”. It’s hard to put some english (billiards term! And a pun!) on those syllables.

This song was not intentionally meant to sound like someone else’s song but by the time I was almost done I realized I kind of came really close to a famous indie rock song. I’m not gonna say which one. You’ll have to figure it out.

My baby girl sings on this one. In the last chorus she’s layered in with me.

Keith says I did a reggie and the full effect thing with the synths at the end. I dig some of the reggie ideas, never liked the sound. I was going for that Rentals/Blue Album B-side/I just threw out the love of my dreams kind of vibe. That’s how you do synths over fuzzy gtrs. The cars did it well too. Most every punk and indie band of the late 90s early 00s did it badly.

3 I dont care what theyve got on me: I recall this song coming together really quickly. Hearing all the parts as soon as the chords came out of fingers. The drums sound a little like samples to me but I swear they’re real. I have no idea how I got that snare sound. I must have tuned it in a unique way and changed mic placement. It’s all there on the track if you solo it.

I dunno why but writing about fraud and crime comes so easily sometimes. I love love love crime movies. Probably since Goodfellas had a huge impact on me as yoot.

Big homey Dov sent a voice recording to our whatsapp group and it’s at the end of this song cuz it made me laugh and I wanted to give you lay-down-in-the-dark headphone listeners some ear candy to discover.

4: I was watching a movie depicting an extremely stressful and lonely situation and it hit me: This is what my inner childhood body feels like. Alone, lost, no one to help, no one to protect me, no one I can trust. “There’s no hope, no love, no safety, no belonging.” Those lyrics just came out. There was no need to think about it. It was all there. In the pre-chorus I am saying “Coño” which if you google will say It’s used as a vulgar term for vagina. That is not how I know it or use it (or like it). I use it in the Miami way which you say when a bad situation presents itself. Kinda like, “son of a bitch” or “ain’t that a bitch” or “damn, bro!”. When I lived in Miami it would often get shortened to just “...ño” which, to you non speakers, you say with an extra Y sound on it like in “onion” so it’s more like “conyo” with a lot of accent on the “ny” the worse the situation is like a smashed big toe or shat pants or dropping your cortado on your brand new car seat covers.

5: round 3 with beth - I’m already running out of steam here writing these liner notes but I think I recorded the guitars and they felt like something I had done before so I chopped them up and came up with a new chord structure and rhythm. I then played them back over the new idea and layered them up. I’m about 60% sure of this but don’t feel like opening up the ableton session to see what really happened cuz as the saying goes “art is a lie that tells the truth”. I heard that quote this week and I like it.

6: pay me in guitars - I usually write music before melody and lyrics. This title came to me when I had to pick a file name to save what I had recorded. It’s a good title. I am saying “crack” the way Kurt does in Lithium with that weird A sound “Crayck”. That’s a nice lil nod to my teenage man crush.

The end was so hard to mix correctly. It was initially a crazy wall of sound that to me sounded awesome. I could hear all the melodic ideas in there. But when I took a break from it and came back weeks later it was just too much noise noise noise. So I cut most of that out and played up one of the 20 guitars I layered because I came up with some jazzy chords that sounded awesome. I don’t know what they are called but I know I’ve seen them used in Radiohead guitar tabs. You basically take the high octave and flatten by a half step. They’re sad and dissonant and sound best on not super distorted guitars

7: walts got a hernia - I think I stole these chords from a song my friend keith wrote. I realized they were a staple of pop punk and don’t think I’ve ever used them before. Also, for one brief moment there’s a riff in there that might be the same as maybe one of the biggest pop punk songs of all time. I only realized this way after the fact. Funny how the songs you love sneak their bits and bobs into the songs you make. I recorded all the guitars in one go. I had the session up on my computer (I usually have a song open at all times so that when I have to work I can indulge my ADHD and hit record and see if anything comes to me).

Story: IIRC Walt came over to hang out and made me touch his gorgeous man abs to see if the weird thing he was feeling was a hernia. After he left I went to the basement studio to probably check work email and instead hit record. All these words and vocals and melodies came out with zero forethought in one straight take…. As my favorite rappers say “off the dome”. And I can hear the difference in the melody and lyrics. It’s got spaces and fills and call backs I have never used consciously before.

I tried rerecording the vocals a few times but nothing ever came close to the natural laid back delivery I had the first time. I realized that what I had was actually cool. So it stayed and I made it work with some clever edits you can’t hear.

8 yesenia - I was listening/watching so much of the bodega boys when I wrote this. I was picturing Mero’s sassy Yesenia character and my desires to court the gorgeous and stop-your-clownin’ Dominican woman I imagined.

OK I’m all out of energy. I’ve been writing for an hour straight. The rest of the songs are all stuff I wrote for the How Neal Feel podcast. Why aren’t they all on their own release? Well I spent 2 fucking weeks prepping probably 80 fucking songs on 6 different albums (where I created unique artwork for each) I wrote for podcasts/commercials/shows that happen to be 30 seconds long or less.

So why didn’t they get released?

And now we get to modern tech platforms ruining art.

First: if a track isn’t 30 seconds or longer and you can’t get paid for a stream.

Second, they will not allow an album where the average song length is less than 60 seconds. So at the end of this record it had to go. I get why they have to do that but still. Fuck them. How about instead of a blanket policy you allow some carve outs for people not trying to scam the system by uploading 30 seconds of noise with the same song titles as other artists? I mean clearly this can be fixed if humans are incharge and not algos.

They would say, “there isn’t a single streaming platform that has ever turned a profit. Do you know the cost it would take to hire and train that many people?”.

I say fair point.

But then let me counter with: that’s cuz y’all made a shitty deal with the major labels when you set such low streaming rates that now kinda fucks all artists except the top 1%.

The whole system is screwed up and I get the economic realities the companies have to deal with. Hopefully AI can help automate some of this and a feller like me who makes music every day with an addiction like dedication can make a modest living from his art one day. “From my lips to gods ears” as my dad likes to say.

I honestly dream about waking up and having a solid 6-8 hours every day to make music in between bouts of building stuff, painting stuff, playing games and what not. And enough to live near a warm ocean with waves. I think I’d really like surfing. That would be just the greatest. So share this with people that might like it. The more listeners I get the more music I can put out and maybe one day this can be my full time job.

Jah Bless.

Credits: R and E sang on stuff. Dov makes an appearance. Keith gave me feedback. Trevor too. I played, recorded, mixed and did everything else.

[dielitttt]

Astro observations pt. 4 🕷

Am I the only Capricorn mercury who loses breath while reading or talking fast or in like a fast pace?? Like when I used to do music class in elementary and middle school I used to be put to sing but I would go out of breath rlly quickly and that’s y I hated it.

Why do Sagittarius placements or fire sign placements always forget things quickly somehow? (Including me😕)

People with strong Leo placements usually have issues w their eyes a lot of times

Some people with major pisces,cancer, air sign and Aries placements tend to have adhd sometimes (don’t self diagnose yourself w this pls)

Cancers with Gemini and pisces in personal planets tend to gaslight, manipulate, and bring up things that bother ppl

I’ve dated someone that’s a cancer with a mix of air signs in their chart, and they’ve dated someone else while hitting me up saying “I wanna break up with her but I don’t wanna hurt her feelings” because he wanted to date me again??? Makes no sense at all

Idk but Earth suns, earth moon and a mix of Sagittarius placements ppl are very private and barely date anyone even if they like them, if they let u date them your probably very lucky!

Sagittarius sometimes have issues with their stomachs, for example I know many Sagittarius risings with fast metabolisms and tend to be insecure about being skinny sometimes.

People with Uranus stelliums are always labeled as “weird” or “odd” from their own family members sometimes 😕

Aquarius chirons and Liliths need hugs like actually the way they’ve been treated by their own peers or family is sad

Aries rising are always seem to be very masculine and sometimes labeled as a homosexual because of their masculinity sometimes unless they have strong feminine placements tho

I barely have any water placements and I hide my emotions easily and can numb my emotions rlly randomly. But when I’m mad that shit shows so easily in my facial expressions.

It’s so weird how astrology is so accurate..

Mercury-Saturn or Pluto-saturn aspects tend to have a rlly controlling family towards their career sometimes especially their mother

Leo moons either hate or love eating a lot of sweets

Pisces in neverland people tend to sleep to escape from their real life problems they don’t wanna deal with or just sleep as an escape to things in general

If u look more identical to your parents and have a lot of their facial features sometimes u can have their rising sign

Water moon people HATE changing their music taste sometimes

Sagittarius’s and Aquarius’s tend to love different music taste and have a very random music taste with a bunch of genres in it especially leos too

Sagittarius’s suns with water moons and Sagittarius rising probably get their music taste from TikTok or would lie abt their music taste for someone they like ☠️☠️ (don’t take tjis to offense pls)

WHY ARE SCORPIO MOONS SO OBESSED WITY CATS BRO I SWEAR THEM MFS WILL LITERALLY FOLLOW EVERY CAT THEY SPOT DAWG😭😭

Scorpio Lilith people with Capricorn placements are so funny when they try to manipulate someone sometimes like I be watching them manipulate someoen so obviously and the person they manipulate be so clueless sometimes..

Gemini mars men are the type of people who fantasize having public sex ☠️

the way my mom has gemini Venus and my dad has gemini mars+ my bestfriend has gemini mars 2 is crazy bro 😭😭

The stereotype that Aries risings have big forheads is true and not and the same time

Aries placements probably have a fear of drowning because they’ve probably drowned once. Y’all Aries placements should be careful w water sometimes.

people be surprised that earth mercurys are funny bc they always have some dry ass humor sometimes I swear 😭😭

Ik this has nothing to do with astrology but why is migos always have the best verses on the songs he features in??

[stonedorjustqueer]

One thing I hate about being diagnosed with autism at 15 was that I learnt to mask from a really young age, to the point that people are genuinely surprised when I tell them or they say I must be pretty 'high-functioning'.

Being forced to act 'normal' because no one knew about my diagnoses lead to me being unable to openly stim and express myself, even years after the diagnoses, and when I do I'm accused of acting out or faking.

It got to the point where the only time I do stim is in the midst of a meltdown or when I witness someone else stimming and I just suppress anything that won't pass as neurotypical. I just always feel numb.

I still struggle to this day to identify what I'm feeling or what I need and I always feel like I can't bring it up with anyone. My therapist tried to work with me on identifying self-talk, saying that the emotions are the easy part. I just felt like crying. It wasn't until towards the end he remembered my diagnoses then made light about how I must barely register on the spectrum to be so 'high-functioning'.

I can't even have a panic attack without my dad threatening to give me a reason for all the 'unnecessary' crying and panicking. The only person that even remotely understands is my mom but she still she's it from a conservative and neurotypical point of view, as someone who works with 'special' kids. Even she admitted that the six year old selectively mute autistic boy shes working with right now reminds her of me at that age.

The difference is no one forces him to be normal, no one forces him to 'just deal with it' when it comes to sensory issues. No one forces him to talk or to stay still or 'eat what your given or else go hungry'

No one else should have to go through that. No one deserves that. I just wish someone saw it in me sooner rather than just see me as a try-hard goody two shoes. Maybe then I'd be able to be my true autistic self and not have to hide from everyone, including me.

Just please make sure no one else has to hide like I did.

[ganymedesclock]

So I discovered the trailer for Belle (2021), and it’s making me think about what I love about Beauty and the Beast riffs, and what makes a story scratch that particular itch for me or not.

And I think a huge part of it for me is the examination of monstrosity as a social role. To just use Disney’s animated classic as my base for comparison here, Adam, The Beast, is not literally cursed with fur and fangs, claws and horns- he has those things, and may have mixed feelings about them, others certainly have bad reactions to them-

-his curse is ostracization. His curse is to not be seen as human. What actual, physical features he has are irrelevant to that. They’re just quirks he can learn to live with, or a further excuse to tell himself he deserves this isolation, this frustration, this misery.

So the breaking of the curse, to me, is not the scene where Belle sobs confirmation of what we knew well before then into his stilling chest and brings him back, minus those quirks- if anything, that his happiness comes with the loss of those things has seemed to me (and I’m not alone) as almost something of a betrayal depending on how it’s framed.

By contrast, to me, the breaking of the curse is the ballroom scene, and the moments leading up to it. Adam returns to Adam, rather than The Beast, at the point that he decides that he deserves to be treated like a human being- not as a labor of love from Belle, but from himself. Yes, it’s love with Belle that they dance together, that they have this ball scene when there’s no high society to impress, but before that point, he had to make a decision; that he can clean up and dress nice and have an evening. That he deserves to.

When we first see The Beast, he has all of the means and resources to act like a prince, to present like one. He could make himself comfortable and be surrounded by splendor, but the truest thing he suffers under is he’s ceased to see himself as worth the effort. It’s not as if he could cut the fur down and prune back his claws, file down the horns, and look the way he feels he ought to- the way he thinks he should. He’s broken every mirror in his house except for the one he hides from, and this is a gesture of absolute defeat. He knows what he looks like. He can’t pretend he doesn’t. The only way he can tolerate this is not looking at himself.

As a neurodivergent queer person, the monster in the mirror is something I have a very complicated relationship with. I have an “advantage” in some ways. My appearance is not shocking to most people. I do not benefit from an obvious mobility aid or assistive device; I speak within a range people think of is normal. I have an “unusual haircut” for a “girl” and I don’t aggressively correct people on my pronouns or presentation.

But I’ve always had this feeling, that perhaps, my fangs and fur were simply easy things to trim off, and it’s so easy to wonder, would I still be okay if they weren’t? Because really, it’s none of the granular details that make a monster. For every imagined horror creature, there’s almost certainly a real animal it resembles, and real animals are not monsters. A monster is a monster; anything else, we believe, has a place, has a home. Deserves to exist.

To be a monster is to be a thing that doesn’t fit, or, more directly, to be a monster is to be a thing that is unaccepted. Rejected for not fitting. Unworthy of love, from within, or without.

At the end of the day, I know, factually, I am not a monster. I know that I’m a real person. I know that I deserve dignity and respect and love, even if only from myself. I’m not owed another person to love me just to prove that I can be, but, also, no man is an island; as humans we seek each other one way or another, romantically or platonically. That’s a fact of anyone, not just people who struggle to see a real person when they look at their reflection.

And yet, at this same time, I can’t help but feel betrayed, left behind, when the narrative goes that if the monster does everything right its reward is to be shaped into the likeness of a Real Human Being. Because you can’t just pull a feathered skin off me and make me like I “should be”, like my various diagnoses and self-identifications all present me as an aberration from. If you showed me a me without any of those qualities, that’s honestly the thing I’m the most afraid of, a me without me. A Miss Perfect who’s a good, normative daughter, and in my insecurity I wonder if people would like her so much better than me that they wouldn’t miss if I was gone.

Which, that’s nonsense. I know a lot of people who care about me the way I am. But nobody ever said fears had to be rational.

At the end of the day, as much as I hate the idea of being a monster to others, I also relish the notion of qualities that are categorized as monsters. I love dragons. I love putting big, horrible teeth and leering eyes and wings and claws on heroic characters. Because brought into the light, qualities are just qualities. And if you bring those qualities into the favoring, soft light of stories about human connection, romances, queerplatonic bonds, friendships and found family alike, those qualities can even be charming, alluring, inspiring; a character can look like anything and we still feel a rush of reassurance that this specific character is there.

And that’s the other side of Beauty and the Beast: Adam is running away from being a monster, and Belle is trying to run away from who she is, too. Because Belle is the other side of that trap.

Let’s be honest; it isn’t just that Belle’s an outspoken woman with opinions. It’s that she’s pretty. She’s the prettiest girl in town. She’s someone people want, people have expectations for- and those expectations have little room for what she actually wants. Hell, that’s one of the major dangerous driving forces of the climax- Adam nearly gets murdered by a mob because Belle made a choice that her community really didn’t like, especially Gaston, and it’s easy to point to Adam as the wrong choice because he’s pointy.

“Beauty”, as much as “The Beast”, are dehumanizing categories that people are sorted into. The doll and the monster. One is considered beneath monstrosity; beguiling, an object of appeal and desire but not someone with opinions, oh no, and not someone able to make a choice that you disagree with. People driven to the fringes by opposing forces but regardless find each other in the place they’re trying to find room to breathe in.

And that, I think, is one way some of these riffs can, for me personally, miss the point- and that’s not a mark against them, it’s just that there’s a specific thing I see in this story, and it’s very specifically not, “to be beautiful and desirable to mass public consumption is the way to be happy; we will have a story about how to rehabilitate someone so they can be beautiful too” but rather, “what does it mean when people stop seeing you as yourself, whether the alternative is perfection or a monster? what would you do to be seen clearly?”

[bonnyskies]

deadly agenda ⇢ myg

min yoongi is a dangerous man. you’re a manipulative wife. together, you two are a deadly duo, and you both have your own agenda.

pairing — emperor!yoongi x wife!malereader ft. king-husband!taehyung

genres — angst, sexual themes, royalty!au, strangers-to-lovers!au

warnings — age-gap (reader is 20, yoongi is 28), swearing, degrading terms, mentions of death, feminization, descriptions of murder, sexual themes, infidelity, betrayal, slight voyeurism, yoongi is intimidating and reader is manipulative, basically they’re just plain evil

author’s note — i hate tumblr’s new update. i had more to write (not enough for a part two) but couldn’t because of the new 250 text box rule. but as for this story, this is probably the longest one i’ve written so far and the one i’m most proud of. anyway, hope you all enjoy and sorry for taking so long to upload this, took lots of planning and rewriting, plus i’ve been busy with school too.

word count — 7.4k

masterlist

Min Yoongi is a cautious, yet observant man.

Whoever steps foot in his palace, he makes sure to know everything about them. Who they are, they’re background, appearance, and how they approach him. Each and every thing can help him learn who he can trust, and who he cannot, who are his allies—and who are his enemies.

Yoongi stood by his palace’s entrance, accompanied with his guards and greeted his special guests, one by one as they walked up his home’s grand steps. He makes sure to take notes on each and every person’s facial expression, their appearance, chosen attire, and the certain way they walk up to him.

Anything could benefit him into knowing them. Their wealth and clan can be identified based on their specific appearance and choice of clothing. Their facial expressions help him learn what their true feelings and intentions are towards him that are hidden by their fake smiles and words. And lastly, the way they walk up to him can help him know the type of personality they have, whether that be obedient and innocent, or arrogant and untrustworthy.

The way he learns about his guests have never failed him. That was, until he met you.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t astonished when his eyes laid on you for the first time. There were many things that left him utterly speechless when meeting you. For one, when his advisor told him that his guest would be bringing his wife, he was expecting a woman—not a man.

Another thing that left Yoongi speechless was your appearance, mostly your attire. You were dressed in feminine-like clothing, silk robes that were decorated with gold jewelry instead of fine material clothing with armor plating like what many men of royalty wear. And you also didn’t hold a blade like most men do too. Instead, you held a simple wooden decorative fan.

And lastly, your eyes.

Yoongi has a remarkable judge of character. Maybe not as good when it came to you, but still adequate. On the outside, your eyes were shining with gentleness and a kind greeting. But he could tell there was something else hidden behind them—something that left him intrigued by you.

You had an agenda—plans, and Yoongi was determined to find out what they are.

The welcoming feast was extremely dull.

Yoongi absorbed gallons of wine into his system, hoping that would help numb his mind and get through the rest of the evening without having to tear somebody’s head off from their body.

And apparently you thought the same as he did. Across the table, Yoongi watched as you fanned yourself out of boredom while everyone else were socializing with one another, an unamused facial expression shown on your face. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle behind his glass when seeing one of the other wives say something to you and you flashed her a quick smile before dropping it back down into a straight line.

It seems his attention on you didn’t go unnotice because next thing he knew, your eyes were now on him. Yoongi was expecting hints of disgust or uncomfort from you, but instead he was met with sly smirk and a raised brow.

Yoongi watches intently as you leaned over and whispered into your husband’s ear. Your husband—Kim Taehyung then stood up from his seat and bowed his head, “Excuse me, your Majesty.”

Yoongi turned his head towards your husband, diverting his attention completely away from you.

“My wife is not feeling well at the moment, so with your permission, would it be alright if he can take his leave from the feast early?”

The entire dining hall fell silent, shocked expressions plastered on everyone’s faces at the table.

Nobody has ever dared to leave one of Min Yoongi’s feasts before. Who would want to, right? It’s considered a great honor for one self and their kingdom to be invited by the Emperor himself to attend one of his events.

Whispers began to spread amongst the guests.

“How shameless is Kim Taehyung’s wife?”

“Wanting to leave the Emperor’s feast early? Utterly shameless I tell you.”

“That Taehyung needs to discipline his wife.”

“Doesn’t he know how important his Majesty’s events are? And he wants to leave just because he isn’t feeling well? Unbelievable.”

“He needs to learn some manners—”

Anxiety swept across Taehyung’s face when hearing the gossips coming from the other royals, eyes wide and mouth gaped open with panic. “Forgive me, your Majesty, I never intended to—”

With just the clear of his throat, everybody fell silent once again and all eyes were now on him. Yoongi’s gaze would shift between you and your husband, curiosity filling his veins when noticing that there wasn’t any signs of illness presently visible on you. You weren’t trembling, your eyes weren’t red and skin wasn’t showing any signs of flushness. You looked fine.

That only caused more questions to form in Yoongi’s mind. Like, what do you exactly want, and what is your reason for being here? Because according to his advisor, you weren’t even part of the guest list until today. That only raised even more suspicions he had towards you.

And it’s not like he can just throw you out—actually, he can. It’s just that he doesn’t want to because now he’s curious, and he wants to see how things turn out.

“He can go,” Yoongi says a brief silence, immediately noticing the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But take him to see the physician and let him check him out,” and then it dropped.

“N-No, your Majesty,” you spoke up, lips parted. “You don’t have to do that—”

“You’re feeling unwell, right?” Yoongi then asks, smirking at the silence he got in reply. “Well, you should let my physician diagnose you then. Don’t worry though, you’re in great hands.”

One of his guards that stood by his side approached you and started to guide you to the physician’s office. And while you were leaving, Yoongi could see the glare coming from you and aimed right at him.

If you wanted to play games with him, he’ll play.

Wandering through the palace halls at night was something Yoongi usually does whenever he can’t sleep.

And apparently you had the same tendency too.

While mindlessly strolling through his palace’s hallways, Yoongi’s eyes suddenly landed on your approaching figure, the first thing catching his attention was your choice of clothing. You were dressed in golden inner robes, your sleep-wear, and the material was so thin and transparent that every feature about you was visible to him. The sight of your clear, smooth skin and every curve of your body and muscles made his mouth water. It was like you were purposely dressed like that to seduce him.

Another thing that caught his eye was the small, slightly torn grayish book that was in your grasp, which was where your complete attention was on because you still haven’t noticed his presence despite the two of you walking towards the other.

“Hello, your Highness,” you jumped out of fear, eyes wide and closing your book when your gaze landed on him. “May I ask why you are wandering around my palace this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply answered, fingers tight around the cover the book, which only made Yoongi even more curious as to what you were exactly reading. “And it seems you are having the same problem as well, am I correct?”

Yoongi only hummed in reply, taking another small step towards you until you two now stood only inchest apart, him towering over you and staring down right at you. “Is there something wrong with your chambers? I can tell my servants to move you and your husband into a more comfortable place for you—”

“No no, your Majesty,” you were quick to interject. “Everything is perfect. It’s just that I’ve always had trouble sleeping at another royal’s residence, that’s all.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but find your reason funny, because he has always had trouble sleeping when there were other people staying in his palace.

A brief silence came between you two before Yoongi spoke up once again, “I’ll be taking a quick walk around my garden, you can accompany me if you like.” He didn’t wait for your reply before leaving, but when hearing the sound of your footsteps behind him right after, a smirk grew on his lips.

“You know, you never really introduced yourself when we first met,” Yoongi then brought up while the two of you made your way to the gardens.

“Forgive me, your Majesty,” you bowed your head apologetically before replying, “My name is ___, Kim ___.”

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Kim ___,” Yoongi reached down and took your hand into his, pressing a soft, yet tender kiss on the back of your palm, smirking at the evident blush forming on your cheeks. “And I’ve got to say, you are looking quite well for someone that claimed to be feeling sick not even three hours ago,” and that is when your smile dropped.

“Must’ve been my anxiety,” you were quick to reply back, your eyes never leaving his. “After all, I am staying at the Emperor’s palace for the first time.”

Yoongi was impressed honestly, he had to admit. For everything he had to say against you, you had something say right back at him. There isn’t a lot of people who have that type of skill to think of words—believeable words right on the spot. Anybody would believe what you were saying—too bad he isn’t just anybody.

“Must be...,” Yoongi just says, eyeing you slightly. His gaze then shifted onto the book in your hand. “What are you reading there?”

“Oh this,” you held the book up, “It’s called Flowers of the Region—a guide to every type of flower that is grown and can be found in both the South and the North. It’s my favorite book.”

“Well, that’s fortunate,” Yoongi points out, “you like flowers, and we so happen to be going to my garden. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Lily of the Valley,” you answer with a smile. “Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Yoongi replied, his interest towards you growing even more. Lily of the Valley, despite the beautiful features of the white flower, it is proven to be quite deadly when digested. “They are only found on top of the Southern mountains—but lucky for you, I happen to grow them right here in my garden.”

Your smile grew even wider. “That’s great.”

The rest of the walk to the gardens was in silence with you trailing forward while Yoongi stood back. And with your eyes focused on the path in front of you, Yoongi couldn’t help but send glances at you every once in a while, his eyes burning into your back, admiring at the clear view your smooth skin through the thin, transparent material of your inner robes.

He surely needs to give whoever crafted your sleepwear a raise—and a big one too.

When the two of you finally got to the gardens, you were left instantly speechless at the sight of the many plots of different flowers, ranging from beautiful, vibrant ones that were quite common to dark, mysterious ones that you’ve never even seen before.

Yoongi couldn’t deny how adorable you looked though when seeing his garden for the first time, eyes wide, shining with admiration and your mouth gaped open.

“This is beautiful,” you gasped, leaning down and running your fingers delicately over some flowers.

“Thank you,” Yoongi stood beside you, “I make sure my gardeners take good care of this place.”

Silenced filled the atmosphere as Yoongi stood back and silently watched you admiring the many flowers. Normally he’d be annoyed for someone touching his property, but for some odd reason when it came to you he didn’t mind so much. Perhaps it’s because this might be the only way for him to get close to you and learn about your true intentions—or maybe he just really wants to fuck you.

Yoongi found himself once again staring at you, watching as you bent over to get a closer look at one of the flowers, giving him a perfect view of your ass and hips, both in which he wants to grab and caress with his large hands.

“So,” Yoongi spoke up after some silence, “how exactly did you become the new Lady Kim?”

Yoongi instantly noticed the way your body tensed from his question. “I was his Highness’s personal servant. When his wife suddenly passed away, he was a complete mess and I was the only one that stayed by his side through the entire mourning process. I was the one that comforted him whenever he was feeling down, I made sure he was taking care of himself and helped him with his royal duties.”

Yoongi then noticed your shoulder slumping. “After about a month or so, he started seeking me for a...different kind of comfort.” Sex. “Soon later he decided to make his new wife—the new Lady Kim.”

“You don’t seem so happy about the change in position,” Yoongi commented, “I’m sure this is much better than being a simple servant. You’re a royal now.”

“Oh, I am,” you quickly corrected him, “But being a man and having a feminine title can sometimes make things complicated.”

“Well then, don’t make them complicated.” Yoongi suggested, “You’re not a servant anymore, you’re a royal. They may not respect you now, but you have the power to make them do so.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” you told him sternly. “They’ll learn to respect me. Whether that be the hard way or the easy way—it’s their choice. So you better watch out, your Majesty, or something bad might happen to you,” you laughed softly.

Yoongi released a forceful chuckle, eyes briefly squinting at you suspiciously. It may have sound like a harmless joke, but to him, he could hear the small hints of truth behind them. “Oh trust me, I will. I wouldn’t want you as an enemy.”

“And you as well,” you replied, eyeing him back.

Silence came between you two again, Yoongi leaving you to inspect his garden in peace while he stood back and watched you. It wasn’t until an hour has passed you spoke up again, yawning, “we should head back to bed, your Majesty. We have that conference in the morning with the other royals and we need the energy.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi agreed, nodding and stepping aside so that you could walk ahead of him and back inside the place with him following right beside you. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, only held your head low to hide the small grin on your face as the both of you made your back to the chambers. And as you two got closer to your destination, you both were froze at the sound of moaning.

Yoongi was confused at first as who it could be, but when turning to you and seeing the hardened expression on your face, he knew.

“O-Oh, Taehyung—f-faster, please!”

Yoongi was speechless. He knew many royals took on concubines while being married, but he didn’t know someone could so shameless as to bringing them to another person’s residence alongside their spouse. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t bother, your Majesty,” you spoke calmly, eyes hard and emotionless. “I’m use to it by now and it doesn’t really bother me anymore.”

“Really, it doesn’t?”

You shook your head. “At first it did, but after sleeping with my husband so many times I have learned that the only person he cares to satisfy is himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle. What kind of husband doesn’t have the desire to satisfy is own wife? Maybe he should take you to his chambers and show you exactly what you’re missing. “Well, I-I’m still sorry for you.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, “it doesn’t matter, your Majesty. Have a good night.”

Yoongi watched as you then opened the door went inside the chamber, causing your husband and the woman to stop and look at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t mind me,” you said to them, not even bothering to glance at them, shocking Yoongi. “I’ll be on the balcony reading my book. Just let me when you two are done.”

Taehyung’s attention instantly went back to the woman that was straddling his lap when hearing your words, hands kneading her breasts and hips and started thrusting back up into her, causing moans to erupt from both of them. Yoongi didn’t why, but the sight of them made his blood boil.

Maybe he should go in there and fuck you in front of your husband? That’ll show him what he is missing out.

Yoongi continued to watch through the crack in the door as you walked past the couple and went onto the balcony. And once you were out of his sight, that’s when he finally got a clear view of the woman on your husband’s lap, and he instantly recognized her. She was one of the servants that accompanied you and Taehyung here. Yoongi distinctly remembered seeing her earlier today, serving you tea after you got back from seeing the physician.

Yoongi glared at the couple, scoffing at the sight. What did that Kim Taehyung see in that whore of a servant that you don’t have?

You are far more enticing than she is.

Taking one last glance at the shameless couple, Yoongi retreated back to his chambers. And while he did so, his mind suddenly went back to you. How did someone so...unique end up with a man like Kim Taehyung? He’s a weak person, a shame to royal blood. You deserve to be with someone with real power, someone who would never leave you unsatisfied, both physically and emotionally. Someone like me.

Yoongi could feel himself harden just from the thought of you.

Damn you for having this type of power over me, his mind cursed. Yoongi has slept with countless of other royals before, both men and women, and he has never encountered someone like you.

You are truly something else.

“Damn,” Yoongi mumbled out to nobody in particular, palming himself through his robes. “How the hell am I going to get rid of this?”

And right on queue, a young servant boy just happened to be walking right by Yoongi when the question ran through his head.

“Stop,” was all he said, making the servant boy freeze in his place.

“Y-Yes, your Majesty?”

Yoongi took slow, intimidating steps towards him until he was towering over him, using his hands to cup his chin and forcing the servant boy to meet his eyes. “How would you feel having the honor of spending the night with your Emperor?”

The servant boy couldn’t stop the small smile from forcing on his face. “I-I would love that, your Majesty.”

That was Yoongi needed to hear before leaning down capturing the servant’s boys lips with his, hands moving to his thighs and hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him into his chambers, lips never separating.

“You’re a eager one, are you?” Yoongi chuckled against the servant boy’s mouth, moving his lips down his neck and forcing a whimpering moan from him.

“I-It’s my duty to serve y-you, your Majesty.”

That brought a smile on Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi couldn’t find you anywhere the next day.

He couldn’t find at you breakfast, he couldn’t find you during the conference with the other royals and their wives, and he couldn’t find you at lunch. Now as dinner was approaching, there still wasn’t any sign of you anywhere.

But he had no problem finding your husband. Wherever he saw Taehyung, he saw that whore of a servant trailing behind him like a pet—but you no where to be seen.

Yoongi thought about approaching him to ask about your whereabouts, but he couldn’t help but think of the consequences that would happen afterwards. But that still didn’t stop him from sending glares at the younger royal and the servant every now and then, which didn’t go unnotice by either of them.

“Is there something wrong, your Majesty,” Taehyung finally asks, breaking the tensed silence between the two of them. “You’ve been staring at me all day today and haven’t said a single word.”

“Oh nothing,” Yoongi simply replies, eyes still trained on him while twirling his glass of wine. “Just wondering where your wife is at right now, since everyone else is here. Is he still not feeling well from last night?”

For a very very brief moment, Yoongi could see panic glinting in his eyes before answering, “o-oh yes, your Majesty, he told me that he’s still feeling unwell so I allowed him stay back in the room.”

Liar, was Yoongi’s first thought, eyes glaring even more at the long, black-haired royal.

Everyone at the table could feel the tension between their Emperor and the young royal, and still no one chose to speak up about it.

Yoongi had a reputation. He is the first ever Emperor to achieve the throne through combat rather than family bloodline—and he is also the youngest ruler to ever be placed higher than a simple king. But that weren’t the only things he was known for. He was also generally known for being intelligent and quite reserved, and cruel if absolutely necessary, and also able to hold a grudge. It may sound simple, but everybody knew that if their Emperor had something against you, your days were limited.

So that’s why nobody chose to speak up when seeing the menancing glares their Emperor were sending at the youngest and only surviving Kim. Because they knew if they intervened, they’d only anger him and get on his list, and that’s the exact opposite of what they want to do.

“Your Majesty,” his advisor suddenly whispered right beside him. “I think it would be a good idea to continue the meeting. Some of your guests has some things to say about the...improvements you’re doing to the North.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes scanning over Taehyung once more before turning his attention to the other royals. “Sure,” he then says, “which one of you want to speak first?”

Not even a second later, Park Jimin, ruler of the Park Kingdom stood up from his seat and spoke. “Your Majesty, my council and I believe that the border that you have placed around my region is completely unnecessary.”

“How so?” Yoongi asks, leaning back against his chair with an amused look on his face. He had to admit that he was impressed that the blonde man was the first to speak up. He may not be the youngest royal out of everyone, but he certainly is the one with the least experience when it came politics.

“For starters your border cuts right through my kingdom’s river, slicing our water supply in half,” he starts, voice slightly raising. “And the amount of wood you required for the construction of the wall resulted in about ninety percent of the forests in my region to be completely cut down, forcing most of my workers into unemployment.”

Yoongi continued to listen closely with his hands laced together and resting on top of his chest, rocking back and forth in his chair with an intent glint in his eyes.

“I also find it completely unfair how your border only crosses over my kingdom but no one else’s.” Jimin continued to rant, jamming his finger repeatedly angerly against the table while keeping his eye contact with him. “I think it’s not for protection like you have claimed many of times, but as a prison, to keep my people in check. You’re nothing but a—”

Yoongi slammed his hand heavily onto the table, instantly silencing the young royal and causing everyone to gulp nervously. He may at times find it amusing when someone fights back, but he will never allow anyone to talk down against him, not in his own residence.

“You think I built that wall as a prison?” Yoongi asks, chuckling when the blonde man didn’t reply. “Are you forgetting what happened before I built that wall? Spies from the South would come right into our territories and would gather information on us, murder our people in their sleep—that’s how your parents died, am I correct? Some spy that sneaked into their palace assassinated them when they were asleep? It would such a shame if the same thing happens to you—after I take down the wall, of course.”

Yoongi smirked when noticing the seeing Jimin’s jaw clenching and hands angrily balling into fists. “So don’t you ever accuse me again? Because everything I do is for the best of my people, not just yours. The wall is only bordering your land because your land is the only one that connects with the South.”

Jimin’s head hung low, hands unclenching and lips dropping into the frown.

“So before you come at me, you should make sure that you have all the information, do you understand me?” Jimin nodded and sat down.

Everybody tensed when Yoongi then stood up from his seat and slowly, intimidatingly made his way to Jimin’s chair. And when placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle when feeling him jump slightly underneath his touch. “Normally I’d kill anyone who spoke to me that way,” leaning down, he whispered into Jimin’s ear, sending chills along his pale skin, “but I’ll let it slide for once since you’re new to this whole thing.”

“T-Thank you, your Majesty.”

With one last pat on the shaking man’s shoulder, Yoongi pulled away, and he was standing straight again, his eyes suddenly fell on your figure who stood near the entrance of the conference hall. But you weren’t alone, no, three servants that he couldn’t recognize was with you. The four of you seemed to be in a deep conversation, and with everybody focused on him, nobody noticed you.

Yoongi’s eyes slightly squinted out of suspicion when seeing you then bow your head at the three servants, a smile on your face before each of you went your separate ways.

Yoongi is definitely going to look into that.

“Now,” returning his attention back to his guests, Yoongi leaned himself against the table, keeping close to the blonde man that was still trembling. “Does anyone else have anything to say to me?”

“N-No no, your Majesty,” Jung Hoseok, another royal spoke up, gulping anxiously as he tightened his hand around his wife’s who sat beside him. “We have no complaints whatsoever, you’re doing an amazing job—the perfect ruler.”

Kiss ass, Yoongi rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from the table. He then shifted his attention towards your husband and asks, “what about you, your Highness? Anything to say?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, your Majesty.”

“What a bunch spineless people,” Yoongi’s mind scoffed, and he couldn’t agree more.

His advisor then rose from his chair and spoke up, “okay everyone, thank you all for attending his Majesty’s annual end of conference feast this year. You may all now return to your rooms and get some rest before heading back to your own residences in the morning.”

Yoongi stayed back and bid farewell to everyone, and once everyone was gone he left the conference hall with only one thing on his mind—you. He was determined to find out what exactly were you and those three servants were discussing about. Yoongi was so rapt on you that he didn’t even hear his advisor calling out of him to come back.

He practically jogged to the chambers hall, heading straight to your room and when he got there, just as he was about barge right through the door he was then stopped by a sudden sound. Moans could be heard on the other side of the door—female moans. Yoongi’s hands were already hovering over the door handle before he opened it slightly to where there was only a crack, giving him the view of seeing your husband with same servant girl from the night before.

Yoongi watches as she claws his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he place open mouth kisses along her bare chest and thrusted deep into her, causing loud, pleasurable moans to erupt from both of their mouths.

“T-Tae,” the young servant girl gasped, hands running up and down his sweaty back and fingers digging into his marked, glistening skin. “I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he groaned back, leaning down and capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. “Together, okay...?”

Utterly shameless, Yoongi shook his head and pushed away from the door with disgust. Just as he was about to continue searching for you, he froze at the sound a voice behind him—a female voice.

“Are you looking for Lady Kim, your Majesty?”

Yoongi turned around and was greeted by one of your servants, hands laced together and hanging in front of her with a wide smile on her face. “No, I’m not,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. He expected her to just nod her head and leave, but instead she released a small chuckle and turned around, saying in a soft tone, “follow me.”

Yoongi was hesitant, eyes burning suspiciously into the servant girl’s back as she began to walk away. But he soon decided to follow her despite the constant warnings that were running through his head at the moment.

The servant’s gaze was trained on the path in front of her, not even bothering to acknowledge the glare she was receiving by platinum-haired man that was trailing right behind her.

The warnings that were consuming Yoongi’s head started to get louder as he continued to follow her deeper into his residence, parts of his home that he hasn’t even been in.

Yoongi stopped in his place when the servant led him to a room with dark, double doors. “What is this,” he asks with a cold expression, causing the young girl to chuckle and open the door without saying a word to him. He was about to question her even more but when he got to see what was behind the door, leaving him speechless.

Standing right in front him was you, along with over a dozen guards and servants that were from many different kingdoms. Some of the guards and servants were part of the Park Kingdom, some were from the Jung Kingdom, and others were from your own home.

“What’s going on here?” Yoongi asks, his eyes glancing across the many different pairs that were staring right back at him.

“They work for me,” came out of your mouth. “We are all part of movement that believes that the North needs a change in leadership—which is you. You’re the only that deserves to rule the North, not these cowards.”

Yoongi was speechless. For once in his life he didn’t know to say. For the first time he wasn’t the one that was planning in the shadows, plotting against somebody—but instead it was people who he has never even met before. “Why,” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

“Because war is coming your Majesty,” you stepped towards him to where you stood only inches away from his face, staring up to meet his eyes. “My agents told me that the South is planning an invasion into our territory, and the way the other kingdoms are ruling their land—we won’t survive this war. You are the only one that is capable of leading us to victory.”

Yoongi turned towards your followers. “Do you all agree with him?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” one of the guards spoke up. Each and every person then stepped forward and began to speak loudly on their opinions of their leaders.

“Park Jimin is too young to be King—he doesn’t know how to rule.”

“He can’t even hold a sword properly.”

“Jung Hoseok is a spineless man!”

“Damn right he is! The moment the South comes barging intl his palace, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his own skin and not his people.”

“Kim Taehyung is shameless bastard who would rather spend his time fucking his servants than leading his own Kingdom.”

Yoongi could see you snicker at that comment.

“He spends our taxes buying whores instead of using it to improve our home.”

“None of them belong on the throne!”

“They are right, your Majesty,” you stared at him with a small smirk on your lips. “Out of everyone, you’re the only that deserves to rule us. You are the one who will lead us to glory.”

Yoongi stared down at you with such desire. He may have found you attractive before, but now he couldn’t help but find you utterly irresistible. “So this isn’t just some power trip? Doing all this just to get to the top?”

Yoongi had his suspicions already about the war. He has heard from his own agents that the South were planning on some sort of invasion, but there wasn’t any evidence that confirmed that. So sadly he hasn’t been able to do any preparations—at least, none without the other royals knowledge of it.

You shook your head. “I don’t care about power, your Majesty—only survival, and you’re the best way to achieve that.”

“I see,” Yoongi reached up and stroked his chin, “how would you all do this anyway? Kill the rulers of each Kingdom can be tricky, and what about their heirs?”

“It’s quite easy,” you answered with a small grin. “They all have their jobs,” you nodded at your followers, “once they are home and unguarded, that is when they’ll strike. And as for their heirs, well, that’s not really a problem.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Jung Hoseok’s wife is unable to bare a child, and he also doesn’t have any younger siblings to take over. So once he passes, rulership of his Kingdom immediately goes over to you. Same goes for my husband and Park Jimin.”

“I see,” Yoongi hums, biting inside of his cheek. “So what’s my job then?”

You smirk. “The only thing you have to do is have your succession speech ready, your Majesty.”

“But I have another problem,” Yoongi added. “Many people already disagree with our war with the South. How will we manage to persuade them that this is necessary? It’ll be difficult since three of the four leaders of the North are dead.”

“Trust me, your Majesty,” you spoke with such clarity and a smile on your face. “Everything is planned out and you don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi didn’t replay, eyes briefly glancing at the people that surrounded him. You must’ve noticed his still cautious state because next thing he knew you were signaling everybody out, telling them to “get some rest and prepare for your departure in the morning.”

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Yoongi asks the moment you two were alone in the room. “Because there is no damn way you’re doing this just for survival. I mean,” he suddenly chuckles, “you are giving complete control of the North. What is your angle here? Are you going to kill me after all this is so that you become Emperor?” Yoongi was starting to get frustrated. He has never had trouble understanding someone before until he met you. And now because of you, his mind was a complete mess.

“That’s not my intention at all, your Majesty,” smiling up at him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, smirking at the feeling of him tensing underneath your fingertips. “All I want is for the North, my home—your home to finally come out of its shadow that it has been forced to hide in for centuries.”

“And you think I’m the one that can do that?”

“Yes,” you nod, fingers dancing across his chest. “I’ve read records of previous Emperors and you’re the only that deserves that title. Unlike the other ones, you are resilient, intelligent, ruthless if necessary, and you even fight alongside your men which no other Emperor has done before.”

As each compliment came out of your mouth, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel himself starting to get hard underneath his lower robes, and you running your hands seductively over his chest definitely wasn’t helping.

“How should I repay you for your kindness then,” Yoongi found himself melting against your touch, his hands finding their way into your waist. “Because someone like you definitely deserves an reward for their loyalty.” Yoongi then turns you around in one quick motion, causing you to gasp at the sudden action and feeling his strong chest pressed up against your back and lips brushing against your ear.

A tiny moan escaped from your lips when feeling his hard length suddenly rub against your ass, you yourself starting to get hard as well. “Should I buy you plenty of jewelry, or maybe a large palace just for you?” Yoongi then pushed you up against the wall, smirking at the small gasp that came from you. “Or perhaps,” another moan came out of your mouth when one of his hands slipped underneath your robes and caressed the soft flesh of your behind, “make you wife?”

Yoongi chuckled when feeling shiver against him. “Yeah, you would like that, huh? Being my wife, an Empress, ruling right beside me?”

“Y-Yes, your Majesty,” you stuttered out, tilting your head back from the sensation, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lean down and leaving wet, tender kisses along your neck and bare shoulder, leaving dark bruises that’ll be near impossible to cover up tomorrow morning.

“Good,” Yoongi left another mark on your skin, dragging his finger across your ass, teasing your clenching hole with his fingertip. “Then how about we—secure our deal, then? And when you nodded, that was all Yoongi needed before turning you around to face him and crashing his lips down forcefully onto yours. The kiss was rough, yet tender and filled with lust. With your hands around his neck, Yoongi’s slid down to your thighs and hoisted you up into his arms, deepening the kiss with his lips moving in perfect sync against yours.

The kiss was like a drug that neither of you couldn’t get enough of.

“Please, your Majesty,” you whimpered against his lips, which made Yoongi want you even more than he already did. “Can you please h-hurry?”

Yoongi smirked against your lips, pulling away. “Don’t worry, my love, just be patient.”

It was quite ironic though, because Yoongi was everything but patient when it came to you. He couldn’t wait any longer. Instead of carrying you all the way to his chamber, he laid you on the closest flat surface which happened to be a table and tore your robes completely off of you, leaving you bare and them in ruins.

Yoongi decided to take his sweet time with you, dragging his lips across your ankles, up your legs to your meaty thighs. He then began to leave open mouth kisses over your abdomen and up your chest, teasing your nipples with his tongue and grazing the wet muscle over your collarbone. Yoongi continued his assault on your body until he reached back up your lips, capturing them this time into a soft, passionate kiss which you gladly returned without a second thought, hands sliding up to his shoulders and helping him strip from his own robes, revealing his pale and toned body.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, eyeing his define muscles, the way his abs clenched as he climbed onto the table and hovered over you, and the way his biceps bulged as he held himself above you. “Y-Your Majesty—”

“Yoongi,” he cut you off, pulling away and moving his lips to your throat. “Call me, Yoongi, my love.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you tried out, heart warming in both of your chests once hearing his name come out of your mouth. It sounded right coming from you. “Please—”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Yoongi reassured you, moving his lips back up to yours. “I’m here, I’m here. Let me show you how it feels to be loved by a real man, yeah?”

The night was then soon filled with nothing but the sound your combined moans, skin slapping and the shared whispers of sweet words between one another.

This was the start of something new.

“T-Taehyung, faster, faster please!”

The sound of the woman’s moans and the bed’s headboard banging against the connecting wall to your room made your blood boil. Your hands clenched into fists and teeth biting angrily down onto your lips.

“Be patient, my love,” you could hear your husband say through the thin wall, making the rage that flowed through your veins grow more. “Let me cherish you, beautiful...”

“Your Highness,” the sound of a man’s voice tore you out of your thoughts, “I’ve done what you’ve asked me to do.”

“Everything’s prepared and ready?”

The guard nodded his head once you turned around, “yes, your Highness. The only people remaining in the palace are your loyal followers. Everyone else has been sent home.”

“Good,” only came out of your mouth before leaving your chambers with the guard following closely behind you. You walked over next door and didn’t bother knocking before barging right in, your husband and the girl instantly jumping to cover themselves with the thin bedsheets.

“What the fuck?!” Taehyung curses loudly, staring at you with wide eyes and wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her close. “What are you doing here? I told already you that I’m staying here tonight.”

“I know,” you replied with not even a single ounce of emotion heard in your voice.

Taehyung’s eyes then shifted towards the guard that stood beside you. “What’s going on here?”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled, and that caused fear to form in the pit of Taehyung’s gut. With just the simple nod of your head, the guard walked over to the servant girl and snatched her by her hair, tearing her away from his grasp and yanking her off the bed and onto the ground.

“Stop—” Taehyung tried to reach for her but stopped when the guard pulled out a dagger and held the sharp blade against her neck, tears shining in her eyes. He then turned towards you, eyes glistening as well, “why are you doing this?”

“Change,” was all you said before nodding your head again, giving the guard the order to slide his blade across the girl’s throat, killing her instantly and letting her limp body collapse into the ground.

“N-No no,” Taehyung didn’t hesitate this time to jump out of the bed, despite being completely nude and taking her now lifeless body into his arms, blood staining the ground and his skin, and tears spilling uncontrollably from his eyes. “She was pregnant...”

“Oh well.”

Taehyung’s head shot up from your heartless comment, his teary eyes shining with a newfound rage. Before he had the chance to say anything the guard approached him from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. He immediately began clawing at his arms, trying to gasp for air that was becoming harder and harder to obtain, eyes bright red and nearly bulging out, tears slipping from them and sliding down his cheeks.

The last thing he saw before he took his last breath and eyes slowly closed was you standing in front of him with a sinister grin on your lips.

“Your Majesty.”

Yoongi glanced up from his book to see his personal advisor standing right in front of him by his library’s entrance. He hummed in reply, signaling for the young man to continue. We’ve gotten word from Lady Kim—” Yoongi glared at him, causing his advisor to pause and correct his words, “—I mean, ____’s agents that they have completed their duties.”

“They have?” Yoongi asked with a raised brow. He knew you were more than capable of doing this, but he thought something this major would take at least a week to accomplish. He didn’t expect to hear about any success a day later.

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded. “The Jung palace is flames at this moment and there is word that Jung Hoseok himself and his wife were in their chambers when the fire happened. And as for Park Jimin, he was found murdered in his bed with a dagger in his chest. Some say it was one of his concubines that done it.”

“What about Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi found himself asking, his mind instantly thinking of you. “Was ___ successful?”

“Yes, your Majesty he was,” his advisor answered. “I was informed about Kim Taehyung’s death by ___ himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. “Good.”

“Would you like to start writing your succession speech now, your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered. “We’ll have the succession conference next week, and make sure every minor clan leader comes so that they know who is in charge now.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded his head, and before leaving he turned back and said to him in a teasing tone, “oh, and someone is here to see you.”

Yoongi was about to ask him who it was, but he stopped himself when his eyes suddenly landed on you standing in his library’s entrance, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. “H-Hey,” he stuttered out, cringing at the sound of himself. In all his years of living, nobody has ever had this type of power over him—but he wasn’t complaining either.

“Hello, your Majesty,” your reply sent tingles all over his body—and he loved it.

There was nothing but silence afterwards between you two because there wasn’t any need for words. The only thing you two needed to express the feelings you have for each other was your eyes—the passion, the lust, the want that shined in them.

This is just the beginning for you two.

would you guys like to see a drabble series of these two in the future maybe? emperor yoongi and his male wife.

TAGLIST:

@ben-c0c, @sombreboy, @theclawofsa, @joongtoons, @xavi-in-kpopland, @ephemeralkookie, @yoshiure, @illbeyournightmare, @sonderkook, @spaceisbigger, @catboygyu, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @xxminilah​

[let-me-luve-you]

Cancer Battle

Tom Holland x Sister (with the whole Holland clan)

Summary: The reader is diagnosed with cancer, but decides to keep it from her brothers. 

Warnings: angst, cancer treatment, cancer diagnosis, brothers being rude, somewhat of a fluff ending

A/N: I did research on this. I hope I did the correct research. So I apologize if I’m wrong.

MASTERLIST

This has been the toughest two months of your life. Right when you were due to go over to America with your brothers to visit Tom, you noticed swelling in your neck. So did your mum. She set you up a doctors appointment, and two days later, you found out you had Hodgkin Lymphoma.

After talking with your doctor, you found you were in the early stages. It was still treatable and your chances of beating the cancer were very high. That helped you relax a little, but you were still in shock at hearing the words, “you have cancer.”

You wanted to start treatment right away so you told your brothers to go without you. They weren’t happy with you since you wouldn’t give them the real reason as to why you were staying behind. Every Wednesday morning for the next month, you would go with your mum or dad to the doctors office to do your antibody therapy treatment. You really didn’t want to do chemo or radiation unless it got worse, so you decided this was the next best option.

After four weeks of treatment, all of your brothers came home. Tom was disappointed you didn’t come see him, but he knew you probably had a good reason. He decided to come over to your parents house to hangout with you today. Except today wasn’t a good day. You were sick due to the side effects of the treatment. To those who didn’t know about your treatment, they would just think you had the flu. So when you walked back into your room from the bathroom, you groaned when you saw Tom sitting on the end of your bed.

“Good to see you too, Y/N.” Tom said with an eye roll.

“Hi Tom. Sorry. You might want to leave, I’m sick.” You said trying to keep your distance but you were wanting to lie down so bad.

“Mum told me. Can I get you anything?” He asked sweetly.

“I’m okay for now. Dad went to the store this morning.” You replied and motioned with your finger for him to move. He understood and moved toward your door as you went to lie down. You sighed, content when your body hit the mattress.

“I’m going to go downstairs. Text me if you need anything.” You smiled at him. “Get better soon.”

The next few days, you started feeling better. This is how it was every week. Stuck in bed on Thursday and Friday. Moving around more on Saturday and fully back to your normal self on Sunday. Then you would repeat the process again.

This Wednesday though, you weren’t feeling good. It felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. You had a fever and you could tell you had lost at least twenty pounds since your diagnosis. You got up earlier than normal to talk to your mum. When you walked into the living room, you found all four brothers.

“Hey Y/N. You okay?” Sam asked.

Ignoring his question, you looked around the room. “Where’s mum and dad?”

“Dad has a meeting at ten and mum ran to the store really quick. Said she would be back soon.” Paddy said not looking up from his phone. You nodded and turned to go back to your room to lay down until you had to go to your appointment.

“It’s a good thing you're up though. I have a press tour coming up and we are going to Bali. The three of them are going and I wanted to see if you wanted to come. You didn’t get to go last time so I thought you would enjoy it.” Tom said.

“I would but uh..” You looked around trying to think of an excuse as to why you can’t go. “I’m still getting over this sickness. Wouldn’t be good for me to go.”

“Well good thing it isn’t until next month then.” Harry said with a laugh before he turned serious. “Why are you always bailing on us? You missed the last Bali trip. You skipped last minute to go to America. Now you’re trying to get out of going to Bali again. What’s up with that?”

“I just have a lot going on. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t.” You said.

“Harry has a point though Y/N. It’s like you don’t like us or something. You never go out with us when we are in town either and you won’t let us post photos of you.” Paddy said.

You stood shocked. You didn’t know how to respond, but it didn’t matter since it didn’t seem that your brothers were done.

“Can you tell us if we did something to you so we can fix it?” Tom said trying to be the nice brother like always.

“Come on mate. We didn’t do anything and she knows it. She just hates us.” Harry said with a snarl.

“Must be embarrassed by us. I don’t know why. People love us.” Paddy said. Sam agreed with Paddy and Harry. Tom just didn’t know what to do so he just stayed quiet. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but he did feel rejected by you lately.

“I love you guys and I would never be embarrassed of you. I just have a lot going on.” You said. You were getting worked up and it was making it harder to breathe. You turned and started to leave the room. “Tell mum to come to my room when she gets home.” You started to walk up the stairs and ignored the hateful comments your brothers were whispering about you.

An hour later. Your mum came into the room and saw you laying there asleep. She went to push your hair out of your face and felt how hot you were. She immediately started to panic and tried to wake you up. Thankfully you opened your eyes halfway and saw your mum.

“Mum, somethings not right. I don’t feel good.” You whispered.

“Get up honey. We are going to the doctor.” Nikki said in a rush. She went to help you stand when you fell on the ground. Nikki was worried because you couldn’t hold yourself up. “DOM!” She yelled. “DOM HURRY UP! COME HERE!”

Tom thought he heard his mum call for him and he heard the worry in her voice so he sprinted to where he heard her trying to talk to Y/N. He was shocked when he saw you on the floor.

“Tom I need your help. We have to get her to the hospital now. Help me get her to the car.” Nikki said. Tom stayed staring at your almost lifeless body “TOM!” Nikki snapped to get his attention. Tom immediately went into protective brother mode and ran to you and easily picked you up bridal style and carried you down to Nikki’s car. He laid you in the backseat and then he joined you by putting your head into his lap. Nikki ran to the driver's seat and rushed to the hospital.

“Mum, what’s wrong with her?” He asked.

“I’m not sure.” Nikki answered honestly. If it hadn't been for the swollen glands, Nikki would have thought you were healthy as a horse. Now with the treatments, it always pained her to see her only daughter struggling with the illness. Once they got to the emergency room, Nikki started telling the ER doctor everything. Tom paled when he heard the word cancer. He looked up at his mum to see if what she said was true. When the doctors took you in the back to run test, Nikki finally turned to her oldest and saw him shaking.

“Cancer?” He whispered. If Nikki hadn’t been standing so close, she wouldn’t have heard him. She gently wrapped an arm around Tom and guided him to sit in a chair. Tom stayed latched to his mum as he cried for his little sister. “Wha- how- when? When did she find out?” Tom asked many minutes later once he stopped crying.

“Before the America trip.” Nikki said. “She’s been doing treatments once a week since. The treatments make her sick. That’s why you found her like she was last Thursday.”

“I had no idea.” Tom said more to himself. “That’s why she didn’t want to go to Bali.”

“Yeah. She wants to stay home until the cancer’s gone. She has a high survival rate, Tom. She didn’t want any of you to worry. That’s why she didn’t tell you.”

As Tom went to say something a doctor interrupted. “Mrs. Holland, Y/N is in a room now. You can go sit with her while we wait for the results. Since Dr. Hammon is the one treating her, she will be here to overlook her during her stay.” Nikki nodded and grabbed Tom’s hand. They followed the doctor to Y/n's room where she looked so tiny on her bed. She had an IV in and was sleeping soundly.

“We gave her some medicine to bring her fever down. She should wake up soon.”

“Thank you doctor.” Nikki said as he walked away. She turned to Tom, “I’m going to go call your father. Sit with her please.”

“Of course.” Tom said before grabbing your hand and sitting in the chair next to your bed. Tom grabbed his phone with his other hand. He quickly added Harry, Sam, and Paddy to a group text.

T: Hospital. Room 135. Waiting on the results for Y/N. We need to talk.

H: WTF?! Is she okay? Is that where you went. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

T: Yeah. Had to help mum. Just hurry. She should have everyone here for her.

S: Called into work and got the day off. Will be there soon.

P: Harry and I are on our way too. Be there shortly.

By the time all the brothers arrived, Dom was walking into the room as well. Nikki had already spoken with Dr. Hammon and got the news of why Y/N reacted that way. Nikki decided now was the time to tell everyone the severity of it.

“Okay guys. Y/N wanted to keep this a secret, but I no longer can. She has Hodgkin Lymphoma. Her and I noticed swelling in her neck before she was going to the states so I took her to the doctor. She was diagnosed a couple days later. That’s why she didn’t go with you boys on the trip. She’s been undergoing treatment every week to help kill the cancer.” Nikki said looking at all of her sons. “I just talked with the doctor. The bad news is she doesn’t think the antibody therapy is working. She thinks it would be best to try chemotherapy next so the cancer doesn’t spread. The good news is, the cancer hasn’t spread.”

Dom visibly relaxed at hearing that news. He was thankful you were as okay as you could be. “Did she say why she reacted this way. Why did she almost pass out?” Dom asked.

“She said her body was working in overdrive to kill the cancer cells.  Her fever got too high. Now that her fever is down, she’ll be back to her old self.”

“Old self?” Tom scoffed. “Mum she’s been sick more times than she’s been feeling okay. There’s no old self in that.”

“This is her new normal for a bit. Until she defeats the cancer, this is her old self.” Nikki responded.

You groaned and tried to open your eyes. Nikki and Dom rushed to one side as Tom rushed to your other. Tom ran his hand over your head. You turned and slowly opened your eyes and met Tom’s brown ones.

“What happened? Where am I?” You asked, confused.

“Your fever got too high. Me and mum rushed you here. You’re okay now.” Tom said. You turned to see your mum next to you with your dad.

“They know sweety.” She said. You closed your eyes for a second and turned to look at Tom again.

“I’m sorry for keeping this from you.” You said.

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re okay now. And I’ll be here every step of the way to help you fight.” He kissed your forehead. The rest of your brothers came up to you.

“I’m sorry Y/N/N for saying you hated us.” Harry said.

“I’m sorry too.” Sam said.

“I’m sorry as well.” Paddy said.

“It’s okay you guys. I’m sorry for not telling you. Just didn’t want you to worry. You guys have a lot going on in your life. Didn’t need to add this to the list of things you were stressing over.”

“We will always worry about you, healthy or not. You’re my baby sister. I never want you to think you have to go through something like this alone.” Tom said.

“I’ll sit with you at treatments.” Harry said.

“I’ll hangout with you when you don’t feel well at home.” Paddy said.

“I’ll make all of your favorites and I’ll make you soup.” Sam said.

You smiled at your brothers and thanked them. You were glad you had such an amazing support group to back you in this fight.