#and they all refused to avoid going there

[curtins]

going to a cafe with the jujutsu kaisen men a/n: (based on irl experience with a wide variety of subpar men) 😭 gojo's order being my order...aurkay!

gojo — def the type to walk in and push his sunglasses down to check out the place. his order def goes something like a venti caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut, and a little caramel swirl at the top. smiles and is friendly to all the baristas, he's never rude to workers. tells the barista is gojo, with an o. whoever's unfortunate enough to be stuck next to him is doomed to hear him wax poetic about how coffee beans are the soul of the earth, and its 'really deep, you wouldn't get it lol'. if you order a black coffee, he'll ask if everything is okay at home. can't leave the cafe without ordering a $8.00 sweet treat and then wondering why all his purchases are adding up

geto — walks in as if he's a regular and tells the barista that he'll have his 'regular'. the barista has never seen him before. probably orders a flat white, double shot of espresso, no foam. he always says he doesn't have to pretend to like foam because he's chill like that. he'll ask for the wifi password, but only so he can show off how good he is at working in a cafe, but his ass is on coolmathsgames. will nod and pretend to care about whatever you're saying but he's still thinking about coolmathsgames. will also drop random metaphors like 'life is just like coffee. you either take it strong or with sugar.' you tell him to save the bad metaphors for his cult.

nanami — doesn't wander or hesitate when he enters the cafe. checks his watch every five minute. orders a black coffe, medium, and adds one packet of sugar. he's pretty good at ordering what he wants efficiently, and it leaves even the barista worried. he's here to relax so don't ask him any unnecessary question because this man needs a break. actually enjoys eavesdropping on people's conversations, and ends up tilting his angle to snoop on gossip better. avoids small talk like its another curse. you can't really make him react too much in a cafe, unless you spill coffee on his freshly pressed suit. will be passive aggressive and suggest that the cafe chooses better music. likes a good, dependable pastry. apple danishes are a favourite.

sukuna — prefers tea, without debate. but still orders relatively normal things. likes a good latte with chocolate syrup. but the king of curses kinda has to look cool, so he powers his way through a black coffee, with no sugar or milk. you swear his eyes are tearing up as he pretends to like it. after every sip of coffee, he sighs really loudly and it gets a bit annoying. even after you ask what's wrong, he says its nothing and continues to sigh loudly. nanami may be the one who eavesdrops, but sukuna is the one who interferes. will turn around in his chair to give unsolicited advice, but he genuinely thinks he's being helpful by telling schoolgirls to buy cleavers to chop their friends' hands off. is mildly offended when they move tables and give him weird looks. passes loud comments on other people and tells couples when he thinks they will breakup. attempts to connect to the wifi three times before threatening to burn the router.

toji — the barista asks if he wants a pastry with his drink and he asks 'do i look like the type of man to eat a muffin?' but if they're free, he'll take two. sits with his back to the wall like he's in a mob movie. god help anyone who sits too close to him, he really just doesn't trust anyone in his personal space. doesn't even acknowledge the existence of others until he's had at least three sips of his coffee. you could tell him his house is on fire, and he’d just mutter that he can't do anything about it now. types the wifi password on his phone with one finger like a caveman. tells parents to 'control their spawn' but entertains kids with coin tricks when no-one is looking. sometimes struggles to fit the lid on his go-to cup, and refuses to asks for help. wrestles with it for five minutes, getting increasingly annoyed before rushing out the door.

choso (this one is dedicated to pookie @creamflix) — frowns at the menu like it's written in an ancient language, like wtf is affogato. if someone behinds him coughs, he scolds them and says he's going as fast as he cans. spends 10 minutes deciding and then panics at the last second, tells the barista to give him whatever. if the barista asks any follow up questions (like milk preferences) he genuinely short circuits, "what kinds of milk are there?" he's genuinely baffled that there are options beyond 'cow.' he'll point at a pastry and ask what's in it. the barista explains and he replies with 'okay i trust you.' always ends up picking a wobbly table by accident and spends 15 minutes trying to fix it with folded napkins. if someone asks to share his table, he'll look like they just asked for his kidneys. if someone asks for his opinion on his pastry, its always a dumbass cryptic answer like 'its interesting.' uses his phone on full brightness and everyone can see him look up 'how to pronounce cafe au lait.' cleans up after himself because he's nice like that. if the staff get his order wrong, he never says anything even if it tastes like dirt.

[wildestdreamsblog]

The Story of Us: Unedited

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

A/N: This is an unedited very very very raw draft! But I wanted to share this with you before I forget the ideas and before my flight today <33 let me know what you think! ALSO I WILL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET BACK NEXT WEEK AND I WILL POST IT IN TUMBLR. okay bye ily

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. Her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in.

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

Full story (unedited) in KoFi

[winisayswhat]

Fairy Whispers

🧚‍♂️ 🧚‍♀️ soft and comforting hug from fairies 🧚‍♀️ 🧚‍♂️

Pile 1 Pile 2

PILE 1

You have so much inner power and strength within you , enough to shake up the world , but you aren't letting yourself use the power , there is a sense of denial in you , it's like you're quiet ignorant towards your own powers , there might be people under estimating you because you are refusing to utilize the power within you , be more confident , put yourself out it the world love , you are so magical and powerful , you deserve the world ,the universe , the heaven , and much more . You have so many people secretly admiring you , their heart fills up with joy when they see you or are with you , they feel seen and heard, so stop feeling lonely or like a chooped out piece, you add depth and love to people's life ,knowingly and unknowingly . You don't need anyone , people need you , you are the embodiment of supreme powers , you are not just another existing being in the jungle , the jungle belongs to you , and you're the king/queen 👑 .

You are very humble about your talent and knowledge , stop it. So many people are feeding upon your lack of showcase of talent , go out in the world and project your talents, we fairies will season it with our magical glitter ! You're so smart that we're in awe ! You're so humble my child , I wish I could give you a hug , I hope people saw the infinity magic that you embody , but hey , superheroes and fairies are just simple people with extraordinary powers and not everybody is meant to see it 😌.

Go out be adventurous , you have zest for life, go out and own it, you have such great leadership qualities that people are jealous ! You were born with it . You might sometimes feel that you get the toughest battles , but guess what , God gives his best children the toughest battles ,because God knows you're IT CHILD of the curb.

There will be turbulences and unpleasant situations in future , but don't worry me and the lord have your back ! Don't cry, dont shy , just be happy and spread joy ! And if anything does go wrong, my glitter will fix it all ♡

Follow and reblog

DM for paid readings :)

************

PILE 2

You're surrounded by loving, supportive energy, and the fairies are here to guide you! 🧚‍♀️💖 You've recently experienced heartbreak or emotional pain, but don't worry, you're stronger than you think .The fairies advise you to take a step back, assess your situation, and be patient with yourself and others . You're nearing a milestone or accomplishment, and it's essential to trust in your abilities and wisdom .It's the test of times and I bet you shall pass it . The universe is testing how strong you're, so that it could evaluate you and reward you !!

You might often feel stagnant in life and confused, too many options ? Too many thoughts ? No progress? Don't worry , this shall last for a while , it's building you for the future life . You are an empress , the more you trust and nurture yourself ,the more you'll be universe's favourite child ! Celebrate yourself daily , because you're special & shall always be💗

Stay positive and focused on your goals . You may receive an emotional or romantic invitation, or experience a strong intuitive connection with someone .Be mindful of your thoughts and emotions, and practice mental discipline to overcome anxiety and worry . Trust your inner guidance and wisdom, and take time for introspection and self-reflection . You tend to avoid it or lack discipline in your spiritual routine . Whatever you do , do it with 100% dedication .

You might feel like you're lagging compared to others and there might be lots of self doubt and uncertainty, but it only gets better and better with time !

Focus on developing your skills, paying attention to detail, and taking pride in your work .You may receive new opportunities for financial growth and abundance ,but you need to be opem for it ,stop doubting yourself and your rewards . You're on the verge of a new beginning, and the fairies encourage you to approach this journey with trust, and open heart .

Trust your intuition and inner wisdom, and listen to your inner voice . Cultivate mental clarity and focus to navigate your spiritual journey . You're a powerful, magical being, and the fairies are honored to guide you on your path!

Follow and reblog

DM for paid readings:)

[jaeyunluvbot]

i miss you, i'm sorry

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

word count 𝟅𝟈 5.3k

NOT PROOFREAD

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your apartment felt too quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy on your chest. Felix stood in the middle of the living room, his hands in his hoodie pockets, his face unreadable. It was one of the rare times you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that scared you.

“You deserve better than this,” he said, voice soft but firm, tinged with an unfamiliar edge.

“I deserve you,” you argued, your voice cracking. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you didn’t know if it was from anger or heartbreak. Maybe both.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a grimace as he avoided your eyes. “Y/N… I can’t give you what you need. I’m always gone, and when I’m here, I’m still not here. You’ve been patient, more than I deserve, but I see what it’s doing to you.”

Your chest tightened, and the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I’m not asking for anything else, Lix. I know it’s hard, but I love you, and I thought—” Your voice caught. “I thought you loved me too.”

“I do,” he said, and his voice cracked in a way that made your knees feel weak. “That’s why I’m letting you go.” You could see tears welling up in his beautiful eyes and that made you want to run to him even more, but you hold yourself back, not sure he’d even want you near him.

You watch as he grabs his backpack off the floor, sending one last look at you, sighing when you refuse to meet his eyes, “I’m doing this for you, Y/N, I love you too much to keep doing this to you.”

You finally look into his eyes and he feels his heart splinter into pieces as he sees your red-rimmed eyes, tears slowly falling down your cheeks, “if you loved me, you’d stay.”

He sighs once more and turns away from you, heading towards the door, “I hope you can move on and find someone better, I’ll send the guys to pick up the rest of my stuff later.”

You desperately want to grab him, to scream in his face that he’s hurting you more by leaving, but instead you watch him go, shoulders heaving as you struggle to breathe.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The sound of the doorbell pulled you from the haze you’d been lost in for the past week. For a moment, you debated not answering it. The idea of facing anyone felt unbearable, but the bell rang again, persistent and sharp.

With a deep breath, you wiped at your face, hoping to look somewhat composed, and opened the door.

It was Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin.

“Hey,” Chan said softly, his eyes scanning your face. His usual warmth was shadowed by hesitation, as if he didn’t know how to approach you in this state.

You tightened your grip on the door, leaning against it to steady yourself. “Hi.”

“We, uh… We’re here for Felix’s things,” Hyunjin said, his voice quieter than usual. He glanced over his shoulder, like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

You nodded, stepping back to let them in. The apartment felt too big, too empty without Felix’s presence, even though his things were still scattered around. The members hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, their movements careful, almost reverent.

“Is he okay?” you asked, breaking the silence as they started packing his things into boxes.

Chan looked at you, his expression softening. “He’s… coping, I think. This wasn’t easy for him, Y/N.”

You laughed bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right.”

Hyunjin stopped mid-step, his eyes flickering between you and Chan. Seungmin nudged him gently, silently urging him to keep packing.

“It’s not like that,” Chan said gently, setting down a stack of books. “You know how much he cares about you. He just… he really thought he was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” you echoed, your voice rising. “By leaving me? By letting you all pack up his stuff, he can’t even face me, won’t even give me a say in ending our relationship?”

Chan’s shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked as lost as you felt. “I tried to talk him out of it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “We all did. But he wouldn’t listen. He thought you deserved better.”

“Better,” you repeated, shaking your head. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “He doesn’t get to decide that for me.”

No one had an answer for that, and the silence that followed felt suffocating.

Hyunjin was the first to break it, his voice soft. “For what it’s worth, Y/N… he looked just as broken as you do right now. Maybe more.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to turn away before they could see the tears spill over. “Just… take his stuff and go.”

Chan hesitated, but eventually nodded. “We’ll be quick.”

As they carried out the boxes, you couldn’t bring yourself to watch. Instead, you stared out the window, focusing on the city skyline in the distance. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind them that you let the sobs escape, your chest heaving as you crumpled onto the couch.

Somewhere deep down, you wanted them to tell Felix how broken you seemed. Maybe then he’d realize that this “better life” he wanted for you didn’t exist without him.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Felix thought throwing himself into work would dull the ache.

Rehearsals became his only reprieve, every movement, every beat, an excuse to avoid the hollow pit in his chest. He stayed at the studio later than anyone else, perfecting choreography that didn’t need perfecting, re-recording verses that were already flawless. The other members noticed, of course they did—they weren’t blind.

“Lix,” Chan said one night, watching Felix push through yet another round of dance practice. The rest of the group had gone home hours ago, but Felix stayed, drenched in sweat, his breaths coming in short gasps as he went through the routine again.

“What?” Felix snapped, the sharpness in his tone unusual but expected.

Chan frowned but didn’t press further. He could see the exhaustion in Felix’s eyes, the weight he carried every time someone mentioned your name.

On stage, Felix was the picture of professionalism, his radiant smile masking the storm raging inside him. Fans screamed his name, but every cheer felt empty. He told himself it was for the best, that this was what you deserved—a version of him you didn’t have to suffer through.

But at night, when the noise died down and the hotel rooms felt too quiet, he’d reach for his phone out of habit. Your contact name stared back at him like a wound that refused to heal. He couldn’t delete it. He couldn’t let go, even though he already had.

Felix watched your Instagram, knowing you’d unfollowed him, but he still scrolled through your old posts, searching for pieces of the life you were living now. The last thing he wanted was to see you suffering because of him, but even the thought of you smiling without him sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

If Felix was drowning himself in work, you were drowning in everything else.

Your days blurred together—wake up, force yourself out of bed, put on a happy face for your friends. Nights were worse. They were quiet, and the emptiness left too much space for your thoughts.

You told yourself not to look. Don’t check his Instagram. Don’t search his name on Twitter. Don’t go down the rabbit hole of fancams and updates from the tour. But your resolve never lasted.

Every night, you found yourself scrolling through endless pictures and videos.

The first time you saw him on stage, glowing under the lights with that smile that had once been yours, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. You stared at the screen, taking in every detail—his expression, his energy, the way he interacted with fans. He looked happy.

But he wasn’t, was he? You knew that smile better than anyone. You could see the cracks if you looked hard enough.

“Y/N, you have to stop,” your best friend said one night, catching you mid-scroll. “This isn’t helping you.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes and setting your phone down. But it didn’t stop. It was a habit you couldn’t break, a lifeline to the person who’d once been your everything.

You replayed your last moments with him over and over, the way he avoided your gaze when he said it was over. The way his voice broke when he told you that you deserved better.

Better.

You weren’t sure what that even meant anymore. All you knew was that you felt worse every day, no matter how hard you tried to rebuild your life.

Even hanging out with friends felt hollow. You laughed, you smiled, but your heart wasn’t in it.

Because no matter how far you tried to move on, a part of you was still stuck in that apartment, watching the love of your life walk away.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

A few months later, the tour was over. Months of grueling travel, sold-out arenas, and sleepless nights had finally come to an end. For the first time in what felt like forever, the members of Stray Kids stepped into the familiar comfort of home.

But for Felix, it didn’t feel like home.

The others were buzzing with excitement, already talking about their plans—family visits, long naps, or eating meals they’d missed during the tour. Felix stayed quiet, dragging his suitcase through the apartment like a ghost.

Chan noticed, of course. He always did.

“Hey, man,” he said softly as Felix sank onto the couch, staring at his phone. “You alright?”

Felix nodded without looking up. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Chan didn’t push, but his frown lingered. Felix hadn’t been the same since the breakup, and no amount of screaming fans or bright lights had been able to fix that.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You hadn’t noticed they were back.

You’d stopped checking their social media, stopped asking mutual friends about Felix, stopped torturing yourself with glimpses of a life you were no longer part of. It had taken months, but you’d learned to keep your distance. Deleting most of your social media apps had been the first step to begin healing from your pain.

It wasn’t that you didn’t miss them. You did. The boys had been like family to you at one point. But being around them would only open wounds that had barely started to close.

When your phone buzzed that afternoon, you hesitated before picking it up.

It was a text from Hyunjin.

Hyunjin: Hey, we’re back! I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee or something? I miss talking to you.

You stared at the message, your heart twisting. You wanted to respond, to say you missed him too. But you couldn’t.

You set your phone down and ignored it.

A few hours later, another text came through.

Chan: Hey, Y/N. Just wanted to let you know we’re home. Hope you’re doing okay. Let me know if you need anything.

This one was harder to ignore. Chan had always been like an older brother to you, someone you could count on no matter what. But replying meant opening a door you’d worked so hard to close.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Jeongin. You let it go to voicemail.

“Did she reply?” Hyunjin asked, leaning against the counter as Chan checked his phone.

Chan shook his head. “No. I don’t think she will.”

Jeongin frowned, flopping onto the couch. “It’s weird, isn’t it? She used to always be around. It’s like… she’s just gone now.”

“She needs space,” Seungmin said simply, though his tone carried an unspoken sadness.

Felix sat silently in the corner, his phone clutched in his hands. He hadn’t reached out—not yet. He knew you wouldn’t respond. Why would you? He was the reason everything had fallen apart.

“She’s doing what she needs to do,” Chan said, though even he looked unsure. “We can’t blame her for that.”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I feel like we lost her too, you know? Not just Felix. All of us.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of the unspoken truth settling over them like a heavy blanket.

Felix finally looked up, his voice barely above a whisper. “She deserves to be happy. Even if it’s without us.”

No one responded, but the silence said enough.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Your friends had insisted you show up to this date, practically dragging you to the salon earlier that day. “You need this,” they said, their voices full of determination. “It’s time to move on.”

So, there you were, sitting across from a genuinely kind guy named Daniel at a fancy restaurant, your hair perfectly styled, makeup flawless, and a little black dress that had you feeling confident for the first time in months.

Daniel was sweet, polite, and easy to talk to. You learned he’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship too—his ex had left him, and while he was still nursing the sting of it, he was trying to move forward.

You bonded over heartbreak and the awkwardness of starting over. He made you laugh with his dry humor and clever commentary on the overly pretentious menu.

But as much as you liked him, something was missing. No spark. No butterflies. Just… nothing.

You were halfway through dessert, smiling politely as Daniel shared a story about his college days, when your phone buzzed on the table.

“Sorry,” you said, glancing at the screen. The number was unfamiliar, but something in your chest tightened. “I should take this.”

“Go ahead,” Daniel said, gesturing for you to answer.

You pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” a professional voice asked. “This is ASAN Medical Center. We have a patient named Lee Felix admitted earlier today. You’re listed as his emergency contact.”

Your heart dropped, the words hitting like a punch to the stomach. “What? Is he okay? What happened?”

“He’s stable, but we recommend you come in. We can explain more when you’re here.”

You nodded, even though they couldn’t see you. “I—I’ll be there.”

Hanging up, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Daniel’s concerned expression cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

You shook your head, grabbing your purse. “It’s… complicated. I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, smiling gently. “Family emergency?”

“Something like that,” you muttered, standing up. You reached for your wallet, but Daniel stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it. Just go.”

You hesitated, then gave him a small, apologetic smile. “Thank you. And… you’re a great guy, really. But I think we both know this isn’t meant to be.”

Daniel chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, I felt that too. Go take care of your person.”

The phrase hit harder than it should have, but you didn’t have time to unpack it. You thanked him again and rushed out of the restaurant, your heels clicking loudly against the polished floors.

The taxi ride to the hospital was a blur. Your mind raced with questions, fears, and the nagging ache in your chest that you hadn’t been able to shake since the breakup.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The drive felt like it had taken hours, and by the time you reached the hospital, your hands were trembling, and you weren’t sure if it was from fear, anger, or something else entirely.

The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallways buzzed faintly as you followed the nurse toward Felix’s room. The air was sterile, cold, and too quiet, amplifying the pounding of your heart in your chest.

You felt like you might be sick. Every step felt heavier than the last, memories of Felix flooding your mind. The way he’d smile at you like you were his entire world. The way he’d whispered sweet promises  in the quiet of your shared moments. And the way he’d broken your heart when he told you he wasn’t good enough.

The nurse stopped outside a door, her face kind but indifferent. “He’s in here,” she said softly before stepping away.

You stood frozen, staring at the closed door. Your breath came in shallow gasps, and your stomach twisted painfully. Why am I even here? you thought. But you knew the answer—because even after everything, you cared. You always had, and probably always would.

After a moment of gathering your courage, you pushed the door open.

The sound of the door caught their attention immediately. Chan was seated in a plastic chair near the bed, arms crossed, while Felix was propped up against the pillows, pale and tired but unmistakably himself.

Both their heads whipped toward you.

“Y/N?” Felix’s voice was weak, his eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing here?”

“The hospital called,” you explained, still standing in the doorway. “They said you were admitted, and I’m… I’m still listed as your emergency contact.”

Chan frowned, standing up. “We didn’t expect—”

You cut him off, smiling softly, but clearly a little hurt. “I just… wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

Felix looked down, guilt flashing across his face. “I—sorry. I should’ve removed your name. That was selfish of me.”

“It’s fine,” you said quickly, brushing his apology aside. “I just needed to know you were okay.”

His eyes flicked back to yours, scanning your face as if searching for something. “You look… good.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, thanks. I was kind of on a date.”

Felix froze, his expression crumbling before he masked it. “Oh. I—” He stumbled over his words, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for… interrupting your night.”

“It’s fine,” you said again, this time more curtly. “But now that I know you’re not alone, I’m probably going to go.”

You turned to leave, ignoring the tight feeling in your chest and the weight of Felix’s gaze on your back.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard someone call your name. Turning, you saw Chan jogging to catch up with you. His face was serious, his eyes tinged with urgency.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, stopping just in front of you.

“What, Chan?” you asked, your voice sharp, your emotions fraying. “What could you possibly want to say to me right now?”

He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “Please. Don’t let him go.”

You blinked, his words not registering at first. “What?”

“You heard me,” Chan said, his voice quieter now, but no less urgent. “He misses you. I know he does. He’s been miserable this whole time, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted. “Are you serious right now? He’s the one who ended things. He’s the one who said I deserved better. How can you ask me to fight for something he didn’t even want to fight for himself?”

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you. But he’s realized how wrong he was. I’m begging you, just… talk to him. Please.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I don’t know if I can. You don’t understand how much it hurt, Chan. How much he hurt me.”

“I know,” Chan said softly. “And I’m sorry. But I also know Felix, and I know he loves you. He’s just scared. And if you walk away now, I don’t think he’ll ever forgive himself—or me—for letting you go.”

You hesitated, his words gnawing at the walls you’d built around your heart.

“Just talk to him,” Chan pleaded. “If nothing else, you deserve to say what you need to say. Please.”

After a long moment, you exhaled shakily. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect anything, Chan.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said, relief washing over his face. “Thank you.”

With trembling hands and a storm of feelings swirling in your chest, you turned back toward Felix’s room, unsure if you were ready for what came next.

You stepped back into the room, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Felix looked up, his eyes widening when he saw you. He was startled, as if he hadn’t expected you to come back. Chan shot you a quick glance, then slipped out silently, leaving the two of you alone.

The door clicked shut, and the tension in the room was suffocating. You crossed your arms, standing by the door, unsure where to start.

“Why?” you finally said, your voice harsher than you intended. “Why now?”

Felix blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

You laughed bitterly, taking a few steps closer to the bed. “I mean, why are you doing this now? After months of silence, after breaking me into pieces and leaving me to pick them up on my own, why now? Why drag me back into this?”

He looked down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket draped over his lap. “I didn’t mean to drag you into anything,” he said quietly. “I didn’t even know they’d call you. But seeing you here…” He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “It just made me realize how much I miss you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You miss me? That’s rich, Felix. Where was that when I was crying myself to sleep every night? Where was that when I begged you to stay, when you left me?”

He flinched, your words hitting him like a slap. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret.

“The right thing?” you repeated, your voice rising. “The right thing would’ve been to fight for us! But instead, you gave up, Felix. You left me.”

His hands clenched the blanket, his knuckles white. “I know,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I thought I was protecting you. I thought you deserved someone who could give you more than I could.”

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me? How much it hurt to see you everywhere and know I wasn’t part of your life anymore?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I miss you, Y/N. I miss everything about you. And the thought of you with someone else…” He looked up at you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It kills me.”

Your heart clenched, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You don’t get to say that, Felix. You don’t get to come back now, when I’ve finally started to put myself back together, and tell me you miss me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice desperate. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I can’t go another day without trying. I love you, Y/N. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

You looked away, his words cutting through your defenses. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to even think about moving on?” you said, your voice trembling. “I was starting to feel okay again. And now you’re here, saying all of this, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Felix pushed himself up slightly, wincing but determined. “I know it’s unfair,” he said, his voice stronger now. “But I’m asking you to let me make it right. I can’t promise it’ll be perfect, but I swear I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. Just… please.”

Your chest heaved as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. Part of you wanted to walk out and never look back, to protect yourself from more heartbreak. But another part of you, the part that still loved him despite everything, wanted to stay.

“Do you mean it?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Do you really mean it this time?”

Felix’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “With everything I have.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged. Then, finally, you let out a shaky breath. “If we do this again,” you said, your voice firm, “you don’t get to run. No more deciding what’s best for me without talking to me first. We fight for it, no matter how hard it gets. Got it?”

A tear slipped down Felix’s cheek, but he smiled—a real, hopeful smile. “Got it.”

You sighed, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. “Okay. Let’s try again.”

Felix reached for your hand, his touch warm and familiar. And for the first time in months, you let yourself hope.

You don’t end up going home that night, falling asleep in the hard plastic hospital chair, only waking up when the nurses knocked softly on the door to let you know that Felix was free to leave.

The two of you take a cab to your place, immediately crawling into your bed together, the memories held in your apartment no longer feeling like a crushing weight over you, but a reminder that the two of you can work it out.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

masterlist.

[soov]

IF YOU ARE AN ENHABLR WRITER, PLEASE READ THIS.

tw : very brief mentions of pedophilia, grooming, homophobia and sexual harassment.

hi! i’m rei and i’ve been writing for enhypen since 2022 (this is my second account revamp), but i’ve been lurking around enhablr since 2021. i’ve noticed some misguided words, especially from new enhypen writers due to recent events, and decided to make this post, so please make sure to read thoroughly.

first of all, i want to painfully break it to the ones who started their accounts in 2024, who thought that enhablr was a safe space, and tell you that it is not one. it has NEVER been one.

now, i’m not saying that to make you disappointed and want to quit, but simply to tell you the truth behind it all. i think there was an illusion created around this community, behind the pretty themes and fluff works, that blinded the people who weren’t actively a part of enhablr, and had just joined us.

in 2021 we had blatant pedophilia with the 02z, brief moments after they debuted, when they were just 18. the community was still a bit messy since enha was a rookie group and fresh out of i-land.

in late 2021, and especially 2022, we began seeing enhablr take some form, but with it, we got a terrible like to reblog ratio and some plagiarism. late 2022 had more pedophilia again, now with sunoo, who had just turned 19, and had adults posting nsfw works for him on the day of his birthday. plagiarism began getting strength and many writers had both their works and banners / layouts copied.

in 2023, during the very start of the year, we had more pedophilia cases. this time, with writers. a grown man with an account named mintchocolatesunoox verbally harassed many minors with sexual asks and threats. we also had a 30yo writer named luna interacting constantly with minors and treating them in a way that crossed boundaries.

we had cases of homophobia with writers avoiding and blocking other lgbtqiap+ writers and reasoning it with their religion. not only that, but we also had another adult jumping into conclusions when a minor blocked them for being uncomfortable, saying the hate anons she was getting were from the minor, when it wasn’t. plagiarism got even worse at this time.

there were also more grown adults writing smut for jungwon when he turned 19, and at the end of the year, their target was ni-ki when the korean law changed the legal age from 19 to 18 years.

this year we had islamophobia, people refusing to acknowledge and share about the ongoing massacres and genocides around the world, more plagiarism, writers using AI to write their works with no shame, and minors consuming smut.

these are only some of the countless problems surrounding enhablr, not including the intern problems that weren’t outed.

many of these situations got worse as the conflicts began leaving tumblr and started going to other apps and group chats. i’m not saying the issue is on making friends and keeping contact outside tumblr (because i even encouraged it creating servers and such). the biggest problem is how so many people aren’t holding their friends and the ones who do these types of things accountable.

it’s not about doing it and apologizing, it’s about apologizing, changing, and holding yourself and others accountable. the memory of some people seems like one of a goldfish, completely ignoring the behavior of those who didn’t even apologize, and moving on.

enhablr was never safe, because we, writers, didn’t make it safe. the ones without morals are finding space to act like this because we are giving them space. if we do want to keep these people at bay and make enhablr a truly nice community we have to start really calling out and educating the ones who are doing and saying horrible things.

start by doing it privately, trying to educate them. if it doesn't work, call them out, no matter who they are. don’t condone their wrong actions and hold them accountable if they don’t post a pronouncement or change their behavior.

don’t let things slide and don’t think mutuals or friends shouldn’t be educated too. we are all still human and commit mistakes, but keeping practice of them is not and will never be normal.

so if you think something is off, say it, talk it out, post it. don’t let it keep happening. the change always starts from inside out.

[catsukkii]

okay so!

i have been craving an idea... knowing on the bars of my cage... for a katsuki × retired!pro hero... Still young, in her early twenties, who was put out of commission for an injury on the field. From there, she practically goes M.I.A and isolates herself, until Katsuki is finally able to track her down and just finds that she turned from a happy-go-lucky person to someone who is grumpy and brash, refusing help and avoiding him. essentially it's angst/comfort, which I think you could do perfectly! feel free to add any other elements

HELLLOOO BEAUTIFUL!! THIS IS A WONDERFULLL IDEA I HOPE I CAN EXECUTE IT TO YOUR LIKING! 🥹 I messed around with the request and made it so she accepts his help instead I HOPE THATS OKAY WITH YOUU !! 😭

Chasing shadows, chasing you. — katsuki bakugo

IN WHICH…as the request says, you were put out of commission for an intense injury, in a frustrated rush you run away from the place that held your dreams, to a small run down town to live in a shack in the middle of nowhere. months add up and you accept nobody will find you, just as you wanted. until a knock is at your door.

Pairing; Katsuki Bakugo x Afab!reader

Content contains; swearing, angst/comfort, fluff at the end, swearing, mentions of injury, depression implied, LOWKEY selfish reader (but not intentionally), sad sad stuff, bakugo may be a lil ooc…, not proof read so it may suck ass

Word count; somewhere over 1k 😭

A/N; THIS REQUEST WAS LOVEEELY AND IM SORRY IT KIND OF JUMPED ALL OVER THE PLACE! I HOPE YOURE HAPPY WITH THE OUTCOME MY LOVEEE!! 🫶🏻 this is going to flop awfully I feel like I could’ve done so much better OUUUCH

frustrated. that’s what you were. angry. It was ridiculous, a stupid injury and now you can never work again? stupid. It was stupid. having to give up on the dream you had just reached all for your own rookie mistake.

so you ran, you couldn’t stand being in the town where all the big-shot hero’s were, constantly staring at what you could’ve become. what was the point in staying? your dreams were shattered, crushed.

you packed your stuff, and ran from the place that once held your dreams, now a place that would haunt you.

of course, people were concerned. you were an amazing hero, and that injury was practically fatal, just to never be heard of again? the media assumed everything was under wraps for the time being, giving you space to recover. but the more months that went by the more the media pressed.

eventually, the authorities had to make a statement, you were missing completely mia. they didn’t know where you were or what happened, of course this caused an uproar among thousands.

you scoff at the tv, and the crowd going out of control. you reach for the tv remote, ready to turn it off before they spoke,

“we have a team of police and hero’s searching, don’t fret, she will be found.” you roll your eyes at this.

“dynamight will be leading the case, considering they were the closest and even he has no idea what happened.” you still your movements. katsuki? you had grown close throughout the years, but would he really go searching for you? was it just to calm civilians? was he forced into it?

thoughts running through your head, you turn the tv off and sigh, walking to your sad kitchen filled with barely enough food. you avoided grocery stores for obvious reasons. doordash bags scattered on the ground, takeout boxes covering your island, it was a mess. you had no motivation to clean, train, do anything. everything you once loved only reminded you of the incident.

you lean your elbows onto the cold island counter, burying your head in your hands with a long sigh. how could you even face katsuki after all this? what if he really did find you and show up? would he be upset at you? he had good reason but he must’ve understand where you were coming from right?

the thoughts clouded your head, you remove your head from its place in your hands, and look up at the light. a weak attempt to stop the tears that brinked your lash line.

It had been months. you had forgotten about the whole katsuki thing, surely they’d have stopped their searching by now. most of your days were filled with unnecessary naps, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, and occasionally watching some dumb show on tv. you were miserable, your once bright smile has turned into a permanent frown. your sparkling eyes, filled with hopes and dreams, we’re now dead and empty.

knock knock.

the mail, probably. you shake the chip crumbs off of you, and force yourself to spring up off the couch.

knock knock kno—

“I’m coming!” you groan, hes never been this persistent..must have a lot of houses to get to. you make your way to the door, attempting to fix your tangled hair to the best of your abilities, you open the door and immediately a man’s voice speaks.

“hello, I’m dynamight and we’ve been looki—“ he freezes, you freeze. the shell shocked expression on both of your faces, brows raised, eyes blown wide, mouth slightly parted. your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water at the sight, fuck had he really been looking all this time? and why is it just him?

“…y/n.” he speaks with the same shocked tone, almost as if he was wondering if you were real or a hallucination. all you could do was stare up at him with a blank expression on your face.

“kat..katsuki—why did—how did you even find me?” you open the door to its full capacity, backing away slightly; he takes this as a sign and steps into the entry of your sad little cottage, silence filled the house more then chatter, both of you still in disbelief.

“I searched—“ he cuts himself off with a harsh swallow. “I searched everywhere for you y/n. why—I don’t…why did you leave?” the question causes a lump to build in your throat, you didn’t know a good answer. hell, you didn’t know if there was a good answer.

silence passed for a minute as you thought, you move out of his way slightly and mumble a “come in.” he nods and steps out of the way, letting you close the door softly as his boots stomp dirt all through your house, not like it’s hurting the piles of dust that were already scattered among your floor.

he sits himself down on your small cheap couch, and crosses his ankles awkwardly, you sit down on the opposite side creating as much distance as possible, more silence looms in the air, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“I missed you.” he grumbles quietly, you bit your lip, staring at the floor avoiding his gaze. “I missed you too.” you speak softly, he nods slowly in understanding. neither of you knew where to go from here.

“so..why. why y/n? why did you leave me? everybody?” all he could muster was ‘why.’ because that was the only question on his mind for borderline a year, just as you open your mouth to speak he continues,

“I mean fuck—“ he lets out a faux laugh, trying to ignore the fact he just wanted to sob right now. “I was so worried, so goddamn worried. All I wanted was confirmation you were safe, do you know how hard it was?” you shake your head no softly, there was nothing you could say at this point.

“everybody pressing me constantly. ‘what happened to athena.’, ‘are you covering for athena?’ ‘how could you not know where she is?’” as he repeats what people were telling him, it makes you realize how selfish you were.

“katsuki i didnt—“ he cut you off quickly. “didnt what hm? y/n I searched every. fucking. day. the authorities even stopped looking for you, but I never did.” tears watered your lash line threatening to spill at any moment, why did he keep looking even when everybody else had given up on you?

“I’m sorry.” you spoke softly, a tear dripping down your eye slowly, which you quickly wipe away. he sighs and rubs a hand through his hair, silence and a few tears go by before he speaks up,

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to blow up like that. I was just worried sick y/n. I was worried something happened to you..” you nod in understandment, you would have been worried if this happened with katsuki.

“I just wasn’t thinking—“ he shushes you. “I know. I know…” even more silence passes, but a comfortable one now, the tension no longer growing in the air.

“I seriously did miss you..you were all I thought about.” you broke the silence, he let out a soft laugh, you missed his laugh.

“I missed you too…or whatever tch.” he scoffs and looks away, putting his nonchalant persona back on playfully, causing you to laugh yourself.

the rest of the night was filled with chatter, catching up on everything eachother had missed, mostly hearing about how katsuki went door to door to almost every town in Japan until he found even a trace of you. It caused your heart to swell at his thoughtfulness, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for all the trouble you put him through.

the days go by, and he makes daily visits, attempting to get your so called house back in shape, but he proposes a suggestion.

“yknow,” he starts, holding another bag of trash in his hand. “my house is pretty big, and I have a guest bedroom maybe you could— ah, I don’t know, move in? atleast for the time being.” you were caught off guard at his gesture, the wide smile you’ve gained back over the days seeing katsuki, mixing with your brows furrowed in confusion, you wait for a remark of him joking but it never comes, your face drops into a more serious expression.

“you serious?” he nods curtly, “dead serious.” your face turns into a bright smile again, and you nod slowly before exclaiming,

“yeah…yeah! yeah, what the hell? of course!?” he laughs at your enthusiasm. “alright, start packin be ready by tomorrow.”

“TOMORROW!?” you screech in shock and he gives you a confused look as if it was a casual encounter. “yeah? best of the best moving.” you jaw drops in shock before you sigh stressfully at the thought of packing in a day but…now that you think about it, it probably won’t take that long considering you only have necessities in your house, and you don’t have to move furniture so…

I guess you’re going back home.

a/n; this is so rushed and kinda jumps all over the place I’m so sorry growls

[natandacat]

Theres no words that can describe the complete alienation of having severe long covid. One infection, caused directly by political decisions to remove public measures, and i cant walk. Can't stand except on really good days which are getting rarer. Sitting is a privilege i dont always have. Cognitive work is too much of a risk to consider for the moment. I live in constant fear of going back to being utterly bed ridden in the sense that i cant even feed myself, drink water, speak, move my limbs beyong my fingers and toes. For days and days without relief.

Nothing feels real. Every gain can be lost in a literal second. And on top of this, the fear of reinfection. The very real possibility of death, given how weak a single infection has made me when I was healthy and young. The even more real possibility of a worsened state, where there are no good days. That means death, too. If i am constantly in a state where I cannot move, i am going to have to resort to euthanasia because it is not a bearable existence. I can barely tolerate it when it know it will end. Last time was 14 days and I am still so traumatized by it 2 months later nothing feels real.

And on top of that, i am being told that my life doesnt matter. Covid is not a real concern. Let it fester. Even if the stairs in my building didnt lock me in, all public spaces have become lethal to me. I cant see my friends because they cant avoid exposure when theres a wave. To love me, you must live in a horrific world where no matter how many precautions you take, no matter how much they ostracize you, you might still cause my death.

Covid is a privileged issue they say. Im not even in the room for it bc i cannot be in the room. You can move your body, youre not afraid of death, you havent lost everything that makes you *you*, but im the privileged one. I cant even emote the way i used to. If i get too excited, too happy, i cant move. I talked to countless people who cant work anymore, are losing their jobs their houses their partners their immigration permits but no. Covid doesnt matter. I dont matter. Everyone cheered when i got covid bc they got to party for new years eve. I hope it was a good party. I will never agree that it was worth my life.

For the past 2 years ive had to share classrooms with students and professors who know everything about my story, who have seen how disabled i am by long covid, who ive begged to mask. They all refuse to mask. And i have to sit there and pretend its not a cosmical level farce that theyre talking about social justice and ethics and just what good people they all are. Not to mention that most of them have revealed themselves to be zionists. I have to sit next to an iof soldier and act as if its ok that she gets to sit in this classroom, except im not even sitting in the room because cases are too high and im too weak to be there physically anyway, so im on zoom. At least i get to remove my earbuds when she speaks so i dont have to think about the atrocities she has committed.

[plutoasteroids]

What's holding you back - PAC

PILE 1 > PILE 2 > PILE 3

My readings are allegedly for entertainment purposes ONLY! Anything said in my readings does not replace the guidance of a professional counsellor, doctor, therapist, lawyer etc!

If you need professional help, please seek it a tarot reading isn't a replacement!

THIS READING MAY CONTAIN HEAVY TOPICS OF DISCUSSION!

You were born bluer than a butterfly Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen

You were born reaching for your mother's hands Victim of your father's plans to rule the world

PILE 1

You have a lot of inner strength you can bounce back from any situation PILE 1, but something ended in your life that caused you to isolate yourself and feel like the whole world is against you when in reality it's not you just told yourself that the world is coming to an end just because you went through one rough patch! You are going to need to do a deep dive into why that situation affected you so much try heal from it and find a silver lining in it all. But it won't be easy it will cause you to go through a lot emotionally but after all of that you will come back stronger and willing to face the world but first you have to face whatever problem is causing you to feel so awful, you really can't avoid your problems forever!

PILE 2

What's holding you back are the people you surround yourself with. When it comes to them it's like you are looking through rose-coloured lenses refusing to believe what's clearly in front of you. You are a good person the problem is you have severe people pleasing tendencies and these people just take and take from you and what are you left with? NOTHING AT ALL! You are advised to set firm boundaries while still maintaining your kind nature. Figure out what it is you need to do and stop to make people stop walking all over you and once you do that life is going to be so much easier for you and more opportunities will present themselves to you.

PILE 3

For you guys what's holding you back seems to be work related. You are feeling stuck and like there is no way out of the situation (you know better what the situation is) but it feels like a weight on your shoulder, the pressure of it all may be making it hard to breathe, you basically just feel stuck, and you don't know what to do about it. You need to take a step back and figure out what to do next, rationalise, plan and find something that works for you because what you are currently doing isn't making you very happy infact it will only make you more miserable as times goes on, I see some of you may develop some depression from the situation as a whole and you are advised to take charge, find the cause and solve it then things will quickly work out for you in the end!

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarch + Daughters (2)

Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.

Part 1 - Part 2

Konrad Curze

A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.

Sanguinius

This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.

Ferrus Manus

It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.

Angron

Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.

Roboute Guilliman

Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.

Mortarion

I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.

I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO

[lizzieolseniskinda]

LOGAN HOWLETT - distracted

x FEM!ADHD!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: based on this request

WORD COUNT: 2586

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: logan calls reader kid, english isn’t my first language & i TRIED to write ADHD as well as i could, i’m sorry if it’s not accurate & NOT proofread

the soft sound of grunts echoed around you as jean led the training session. you stood in the middle of the simulated battlefield, focusing on jean's voice as she guided you and the rest of the team through coordinated drills. or at least, you tried to focus.

“ready when you are,” jean said, her voice calm and confident.

it had been a solid start—dodging incoming projectiles, using your abilities with precision—but all of that derailed when you felt a faint pop. you glanced down, and there it was: a small tear at the seam of your tactical vest. barely noticeable to anyone else, but to you, it might as well have been a flashing neon sign screaming for attention.

you tugged at the edge of the rip, biting your lip as you ran through worst-case scenarios. what if it tore more? what if someone saw it and thought you were careless?

“focus!” jean’s calm yet commanding tone broke through your spiraling thoughts.

you gave her a nod, flexing your fingers. you could do this. just focus. trying to shake it off, your eyes kept darting back to the tear. every step, every move felt like it made the rip worse. you tried to keep up with the training, pretending nothing was wrong, but your mind was stuck on it, looping through the problem like a scratched record.

you glanced down at it for just a second, running your fingers over the rip. you told yourself it was fine, just a cosmetic issue, nothing that would affect the training. but your mind didn’t let it go. what if it got worse? what if it ripped open completely during a mission? what if—

jean seemed to notice.

“eyes up!” her voice snapped you out of your thoughts as a telekinetic blast whizzed past your shoulder. you jumped, barely dodging in time.

“sorry!” you blurted, forcing yourself back into the fight. she didn’t seem to notice your slip, but your movements were clumsy, your reactions delayed. you couldn’t stop sneaking glances at the tear, couldn’t stop fidgeting with it when jean wasn’t looking.

by the time jean called for a break, your fingers were already fidgeting with the tear, trying to tug it closed. you stayed behind, sitting on the edge of a bench and staring at the seam. it wasn’t the tear itself that was bothering you anymore—it was why it was bothering you. why couldn’t you just let it go? why did your mind latch onto things like this and refuse to let them go, especially when there were more important things to focus on?

you tugged at the rip absentmindedly, frustration bubbling under your skin. this was why you always messed up. why you never felt good enough, no matter how hard you tried.

you didn’t hear logan approach until his gruff voice pulled you back.

“somethin’ on your mind, kid?”

you startled, looking up to find him leaning casually against a nearby wall, arms crossed. his piercing gaze scanned your face like he was piecing together a puzzle.

“err, no,” you stammered, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “i’m fine. just tired.”

he raised a brow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push. “uh-huh.”

you turned away quickly, hoping to avoid further scrutiny. the last thing you wanted was logan—or anyone—seeing how much a stupid tear in your vest was throwing you off.

the break ended, and the rest of the training session crawled by in a blur. you managed to hold it together—barely—but your focus was nowhere near where it should’ve been. every time you moved, the tear in your vest tugged at your thoughts.

as soon as jean dismissed the group, you bolted for the elevator, clutching the offending garment close. your room was a refuge of controlled chaos—books stacked haphazardly, notebooks scattered across the desk, and little knick-knacks you’d picked up on missions or thrift stores lining the shelves.

you tossed the vest on the bed, grabbing a needle and thread from your cluttered desk drawer. fixing it was easy enough; you’d patched up gear plenty of times before. but as you threaded the needle, your gaze landed on a book sitting on the corner of your desk.

it was one you’d been meaning to finish for weeks. the cover was dog-eared, the spine well-worn, and you’d left it open to a chapter you were desperate to read. “just one page,” you told yourself, setting the needle and vest down.

one page turned into three. then ten.

the world outside melted away as you dove into the story, your thoughts consumed by the characters and their struggles. time slipped by unnoticed. the stress from training, the vest, and the upcoming mission all faded into the background.

by the time you came up for air, the sky outside your window had deepened to twilight. you blinked, disoriented, before your eyes landed on the vest still crumpled on your bed.

“crap!” you muttered, scrambling to grab it.

but before you could, your comm buzzed from the desk. scott’s voice crackled through the speaker, gruff and impatient.

“mission briefing in five. don’t be late.”

you groaned, running a hand through your hair. there was no time now to fix the tear. you pulled the vest on anyway, your stomach twisting. the rip felt bigger somehow, though you knew that was impossible.

still, the thought lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind as you headed to the briefing room.

the mission was supposed to be straightforward—recon and retrieval, in and out. no drama. you tried to reassure yourself of that as you stood in the shadows outside the dimly lit warehouse, logan and the others spread out along the perimeter. but the familiar pull of the rip in your vest was like a splinter in your mind, sharp and insistent.

“focus, y/n,” logan’s voice growled through the comms. “this ain’t a solo gig. stick to your part.”

“got it,” you replied quickly, trying to sound confident. you tightened the straps on your vest, hoping the rip wouldn’t get worse.

inside the warehouse, the air was stale and filled with the hum of machines. you moved cautiously, scanning for hostiles while sticking to the plan. you role was clear: neutralize threats while the others handled the retrieval.

but things went south fast.

one of the guards—a hulking man nearly twice your size—spotted you before you could take cover. you barely had time to react before he lunged, swinging a heavy pipe. you dodged clumsily, your mind splitting between the fight and the nagging feeling that your vest wasn’t holding up.

it didn’t.

with a sharp rip, the seam tore further, exposing part of your side. the sound hit you like a gong, drowning out the chaos around you. panic set in, fast and unrelenting.

your punches became erratic, your movements slower, as your mind fixated on the tear. he’s gonna see it. they’re all gonna see it. why didn’t you just fix it earlier?

the guard capitalized on your distraction, grabbing your vest and throwing you hard against a stack of crates. pain shot through your back, but worse than the impact was the feeling of your vest tearing almost completely away.

your breathing quickened. the mission. the others. you couldn’t let them down, but you couldn’t focus.

“y/n, what’s your status?” scotts’s voice came through the comms, sharp with concern.

“holding steady,” you lied, forcing yourself to stand. the guard charged again, and you stumbled, barely dodging his next attack.

the man lunged at you, his heavy boots thundering against the floor as he swung a crowbar toward your head. you ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow, and countered with a hard jab to his ribs. he grunted but didn’t falter.

“come on,” you muttered to yourself, circling him cautiously, your hands raised in defense.

he charged again, and this time, you sidestepped, landing a kick to the back of his knee. he stumbled, but instead of falling, he spun and slammed his forearm into your chest. the impact sent you skidding backward, your breath hitching as your shoulder hit a wall.

panic flickered in your chest, but you forced it down. the mission couldn’t fall apart now.

you darted forward, faking left before driving your knee into his stomach. he doubled over with a sharp gasp, giving you just enough time to grab the back of his head and slam it against your knee. the force sent him sprawling to the ground, motionless.

panting, you stepped back, your hands trembling slightly. he wasn’t moving. he had to be out cold.

but even as you told yourself that, your fingers drifted to your vest. the tear was bigger now, the edges fraying worse than before. it was like an itch you couldn’t ignore, and despite the danger, you dropped to a crouch and began tugging at the seam, trying to force it back together.

you didn’t notice the man’s hand twitch.

didn’t see him push himself up, his face twisted with rage, until it was too late.

just as he lunged, his fist swinging toward your head, you froze, the world narrowing to the moment—too slow to react, too late to defend yourself.

but then, a flash of red.

“get down!”

scott summers was suddenly in front of you, shoving you hard to the side just as the man’s fist sailed past where your head had been. the blow glanced off scott’s shoulder, but he didn’t so much as flinch.

“you call this holding steady?” scott snapped, positioning himself between you and the guard.

he retaliated with a precise punch to the guard jaw, followed by a sweeping kick that sent him crashing back to the ground. this time, scott didn’t leave anything to chance. his visor glowed as he fired a controlled optic blast at the ground near the man’s feet, ensuring he stayed down.

“are you serious right now?” Scott turned, his voice tight with frustration. “you were just sitting there while he got back up? what were you thinking?”

your chest tightened, shame flooding you as you scrambled to your feet. “i—i thought he was out—”

“we don’t have time for this, y/n!”

you opened your mouth to defend yourself but found you couldn’t. he wasn’t wrong.

so, you just nodded, your face burning as you trailed behind him.

the jet was quiet on the ride back to the mansion. scott sat at the front, running a hand through his hair as he summarized the mission for the team.

“intel secured, no casualties,” he said, his voice calm but edged with tension. “not bad, all things considered. good work, everyone.”

the others nodded, relieved, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join in. you sat in one of the side seats, staring blankly at the floor, your thoughts circling like a storm.

scott glanced back at you briefly, and though he didn’t say anything, the flicker of disappointment in his eyes was unmistakable.

you sank deeper into your seat, your arms folded tightly across your chest. the words no casualties echoed in your head, but they didn’t feel comforting. the mission had been successful, but all you could think about was how close you’d come to messing everything up.

the mission was successful, sure. but it didn’t feel that way. not to you. all you could think about was how close you’d come to blowing it—to getting yourself or someone else hurt because you couldn’t stay focused.

your fingers toyed with the ruined seam of your vest as the memories played on a loop. the guard’s fist, scott’s shout, the shame you felt as he pushed you out of the way.

logan sat across from you, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he watched you in silence. you could feel his gaze, but you avoided it, staring out the jet’s window instead.

when the jet touched down at the x-mansion, the others disembarked quickly, eager to shed their mission gear and move on. you lingered, pretending to fuss with your seatbelt until the hangar was nearly empty.

as you stood to leave, logan’s gruff voice stopped you in your tracks.

“hold up.”

you froze, your stomach twisting. he leaned against the side of the jet, his sharp gaze locked on you.

“what the hell’s goin’ on with you, kid?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

you shook your head, trying to brush it off. “nothing. i’m fine.”

“fine?” Logan snorted, straightening up. “that’s what you call freezin’ in the middle of a fight and damn near gettin’ yourself killed?”

“you’re off your game.”

his words hit like a punch to the gut, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. “i... i didn’t mean to. i just… i couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“thinkin’ about what?”

you hesitated, your fingers curling into fists. “the vest,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “it ripped during training, and i-” you took a breath, making sure to swallow any tear that was threatening to slip down your eyes.

“i couldn’t stop obsessing over it. i know it’s stupid, okay? but it just… it wouldn’t leave my head.”

logan sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “you think i care about some damn vest?”

“no,” you said quickly, your voice cracking. “but it’s not just the vest, logan. it’s everything. my brain just—won’t shut up sometimes. it jumps from one thing to the next, and i can’t keep up. and then i mess up, and everyone’s mad, and…” you trailed off, tears stinging your eyes as you looked away.

logan’s expression softened. he stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “y/n,” he said, his voice quieter now, “you think you’re the only one who screws up? hell, i’ve made more mistakes than i can count, and some of ’em were a hell of a lot worse than this.”

you blinked up at him, surprised by the raw honesty in his tone.

“but you’re still here,” logan continued, “still standin’. you’re not gonna get everything right all the time. no one does. the important thing is you get back up and keep goin’.”

you shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “i almost got myself killed. if scott hadn’t been there—”

“but he was,” logan interrupted, his tone firm. “that’s why we’re a team, kid. we cover for each other.”

you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat easing slightly as his words sank in.

“and next time somethin’s messin’ with your head,” he added, tapping a finger lightly against your temple, “you talk to someone about it. don’t let it eat away at you. got it?”

you nodded, a small smile breaking through despite yourself. “got it.”

“good.” logan gave your shoulder a firm squeeze before letting go. “now go get some rest. you earned it.”

as you headed toward the exit, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter. the vest was still ruined, and the mission hadn’t been perfect, but his words stayed with you. you made it through, and for now, that was enough.

the warmth in his words broke through the wall of self-doubt you’d been building. you let out a shaky breath, nodding.

“thanks,” you whispered.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, his tone lightening as logan gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “now, let’s get back. i’m starvin’, and i ain’t lettin’ you off dinner duty that easy.”

you managed a small smile, the weight on your chest lifting just a little as the jet descended toward the mansion.

[rametarin]

It's not meant to be an argument. It's a technique to harangue.

Radfems have not developed techniques to do so in social media, because a big part of the gimmick is A.) they need consequences for hitting them to be end of game for the other person (typically a man), B.) they need the ability to make accusations and then use those accusations to justify manufactured outrage, where they feign not being in control (and thus not responsible) of their actions but in fact, are in absolute control, and avoid culpability for what they say because of this alleged passion. C.) Real, audible conversations are not stenographed, while on the internet, they are. Radfems relied universally on she-said he-said and put on aires of "just standing up for women," and concatenating any conversation they have to "telling off sexism." Even when it's something the manufactured, they'll happily declare what the conversation they had to be a brave feminist standing up to a misogynist, even if it was a conversation about fish they took offense to.

Back in the day I remember, "Oh, you think it's okay to disparage a woman's opinion?" right after I disagreed on something with one. And then suddenly she manufactured a tell-off, refusing to hear continued dialogue on the subject of what we were arguing about, instead focusing on this made-up circumstance where I just disagreed with her because she was female.

And typically when that happens, the natural response of people at the time (impressionable minors taught sexism is all around them and casual misogyny is everywhere) was to dive in and give complete faith and benefit of the doubt to the woman, thus the actual conversation that happened before they started getting other peoples attention just about didn't matter.

Doing this gets harder when the minutes of the conversation are laid bare and perfect clarify is had, and you can see right where the radfem decided to invent a slight, or choose to focus on something other than the conversation at hand to something she could go on the offense with.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

A "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" Thanksgiving One-Shot Coming On 11/27/2024!

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Just A Little Something 😉

Soldier Boy POV

It was Thanksgiving, Ben's first since he came back from Russia and despite his numerous insistences that "it wasn't a big deal" you weren't listening to him.

Honestly, what was new? Ben thought to himself with a sigh.

Holidays for him were always bittersweet. When he was a child and in his teen years he spent the holidays at the elegant parties your parents threw in your family home sneaking eggnog and sips of whiskey from the flask in his coat while the two of you avoided his plastered father, and while he was with you he had a good time, but it was the quiet that came when he went home to the cold shell of his father's house that left a chill behind.

Truthfully, Ben would have just stayed at the boarding schools during the holidays if he hadn't been so eager to get back to you. He liked going to your family's parties, liked standing next to you and taking the brunt of your mother's disapproving glances. When he wasn't there he knew that she turned those looks on you and knew that she was less likely to make a comment about how you looked when he was a worthy target, and he was more than happy to take it, if it meant that he would get to see you smile and enjoy yourself.

Ben didn't care much for holidays, hadn't since his mother died, but he knew how much you loved them and he knew that you had sacrificed that love for them when you came with him to become a supe.

Your mother had banned you from your home the minute you told her that you weren't going to marry Howard and that you were going with Ben, and despite your father's insistences, your mother refused to let you return for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. Which meant that you were left with nowhere to celebrate and nowhere to go for the holidays you loved so much.

Ben did everything he could to make sure that the two of you celebrated in your own way. The early Thanksgivings were spent eating turkey sandwiches in Central Park, while Ben tried his upmost to make you smile, but the later ones were spent at the lavish parties that Legend threw. And no matter how many women tried to pull Ben away from you, he stayed beside you making sure that you were having a good time, but even at those parties you never seemed as happy as you had when you were back home in Philadelphia or when it was just the two of you.

It always made a sick feeling settle in the pit of his stomach, because it made him believe that you regretted coming with him.

But today would be different.

It would be the first Thanksgiving that Ben had spent with you since he left. You told him that Rosemary, Lou, and you always spent the holidays in the house in Maine and Ben didn’t complain. He liked the house and he liked how happy you seemed there, how you seemed to leave any anxiety you had back in the city.

And despite all the other Thanksgivings the two of you had spent at Legend's blowouts soaked with booze, Ben saw that you were genuinely excited and happy this year to celebrate, and it made him feel like he'd done something right for once.

A/N: It is a little more than just a little something, but I am so excited about this one-shot! I had this unhinged idea as soon as I started writing this series and I can't wait for y'all to see what it is.

If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know! :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@libby99hb @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@livya99 @lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline

@impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

[inspector-m3]

Priest!Johnny, Incubus!Ghost, Succubus!Reader has been mentioned in a convo of my friend and I when we were discussing Johnny's catholic upbringing. So Ghost and the reader tempting him into submission?

(I know incubus and succubus don't mean gender)

from my brief research an incubus is a male demon that fucks sleeping women and a succubus is a female demon who appears in dreams to seduce men....so there's a theme going on here lol. also a disclaimer, i know fuck all about religion, i may have gone to Catholic schools but it went in one ear and out the other so the religion part is probably really vague to avoid offending someone.

suggestive themes ahead read if you want, if not, scroll.

im imagining that ghost does all the work during the day, leaning against the poor priest who is trying to do his job, giving speeches and sermons, chest against his back as he whispers some of the filthiest things imaginable.

Johnny trying to give a speech "and then god said-"

only to hear ghosts grumble behind him

"fuck me till the sun comes up"

Johnny definitely halts and stutters, he knows he shouldn't but damn, he could feel the heat radiating from ghost behind him and that voice of his wasnt helping.

You and ghost are like a tag team, once Johnny settles in for the night ghost gives you a high five and goes to rest while you have your fun.

You switch his dreams from the usual ones of his family or pets or the occasional nonsensical dreams to ones including you, telling him to do whatever he really desires, and it almost worked if it weren't for the slip up of you mentioning ghosts name, after that he woke up and refused to go back to sleep.

You and ghost keep at it, day and night, trying to wear the stubborn priest out until one day you both appear in front of him, or rather, you on one side and ghost on the other, warm breaths against his ears as you both whisper to him and he finally cracks, it feels so good and yet he knows it's wrong, but he can't think for long when he has both you and ghost on him like animals.

i dunno how to end this one sorry, i feel like i didn't do the idea as much justice as i could've but i don't have much experience with religion or religious guilt so my apologies if this one turned out crap

[howlsofbloodhounds]

what things trigger Killer's stages???

Outside of being forced via Nightmare’s tentacles or someone physically touching his SOUL to force him into Stage 2, a few things can be discerned.

For Stage 1, it’s likely any reminders about his past.

Things related to his life as Sans, reminders of Papyrus (either remembering times he’s killed or hurt Papyrus, or remembering or being reminded of good and bad with Papyrus). Stars don’t seem enough to fully trigger him out of Stage 2 on their own, but they are enough to cause emotional flashbacks in Stage 2. Because Stars remind him of the Resets.

Ketchup, spaghetti, things like that; which is all why Killer attempts to avoid these things in Stage 2. Certain things related to Chara and his time with them as well.

Cats can be argued to be a positive trigger, although we’ve seen him in Stage 2 with kittens before.

There don’t seem to be clear triggers for Stage 2, can kinda come and go, but he seems to default into Stage 2 after being triggered into Stages 3 or 4, and when in Stage 1, it can be reasoned that

1. Attacking him verbally, emotionally, or mentally about certain things he does/did with the human or Nightmare can trigger him into Stage 2. He’d probably be triggered into Stage 2 when overwhelmed to dissociate and detach from the memories and emotions, slipping into that mindset to cope.

2. Feeling dehumanized or objectified would likely trigger Stage 2.

3. Any perceived lost of control or a sense that he’s being manipulated, tested, or used. Direct commands from figures such as Nightmare, the human, eventually Color, could possibly also do the same. He’d then try to gain a sense of control, even if it means submitting or falling into deeper apathy.

4. Likely monotony and boredom. Lack of stimuli exacerbates his emotional numbness, and in Stage 2, can likely run the risk of pushing him further into his head, making him more impulsive in an attempt to kill that boredom (potentially doing something dangerous to himself or others), and then into Stage 1–which isn’t what Nightmare wants.

5. Overwork and exhaustion, especially when he either has to or thinks he has to push by his limits. Will trigger Stage 2 to detach from and dissociate from his body and its needs in order to do what needs be done.

This possibly also applies to cases of hunger, sleep, and thirst and being unable to immediately meet his needs due to lack of resources, means, etc.: switching into Stage 2 to push past it and ignore, or to find a way to get his needs met if he’s in an environment where food has to be earned or he thinks he has to earn it.

6. Likely any situations and people that remind him as his identity as Killer, anything that reminds him of the environments he was in with Chara and Nightmare.

Which is why, in more “canon” adjacent Bad Sans AUs, none of the others are likely to see Killer in Stage 1.

Not only because of Nightmare preventing it, but also because he does not feel safe around them or trust them.

And he doesn’t believe they can or should trust him in Stage 2 (he doesn’t even trust himself), so he’d avoid them in Stage 1 and warn them to avoid him too and not trust him when he’s “like that”—as he warns his best friend, Color, about too. Believing he has to protect others from himself, while simultaneously not trusting that they won’t harm him.

For Stage 3, it’s very likely that extreme stress or threat—feeling cornered and under immense pressure—are triggers. Being or feeling overwhelmed by a threat or multiple attackers.

Prolonged neglect or abuse, such as being pushed too far without reprieve, can likely trigger Stage 3–as can unresolved internal conflict between Stages, if Killer’s soul is torn between Stages 1 and 2, could resort to Stage 3.

Some people like to think that when in Stage 3, he’s aware of the body—so if Killer keeps refusing to eat or take care of his body, or can’t for whatever reason, that he’d focus on immediate needs like food, water, shelter, survival in Stage 3. Severe injuries and sensory overload.

A big trigger for Stage 4 seems to be resisting killing in Stage 1, direct resistance and disobedience (especially a direct demand from a figure such as chara/the player), which is made worse underneath Nightmare because Nightmare does not want Killer to..well, kill anyone. People are no good to Nightmare dead, he needs their negativity. Killer struggles every day against his programming underneath Nightmare.

Any situation where Killer needs to be completely obedient is possibly enough to trigger Stage 4. Any overwhelming fear of failure.

There’s also the little HC that ties into stuff about the heart locket, but because that’s complete headcanons, I won’t mention it.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Because I am gay (see name above) all of my favs are gay but because dc are cowards and refuse to admit that yeah having a character damn near exclusively date redheaded friends and then making both his male close friends redheads is a lil suspicious

I have simply decided that Dick is openly bi and no one has realized it in the universe.(Titans -core 9- and Clark Kent excluded)

So here picture this.

They’re all at a diner/batburger/ wherever they chill as civilians. Are they doing important stuff, working on cases, shooting the shit, your choice- I’m lazy.

And it’s practically empty bc none of them have normal schedules and so yeah you can have lunch at 4:45am that’s a normal time to eat.

And some dude walks in and Dick just straight up freezes for a sec before hiding under the table. The dude orders to go and fucks off.

Dick gets back up and does a cartoonish ‘phew’ bc he’s extra

Jason: yo what the fuck was that

Dick: what the fuck was what?

Tim: that- you hiding under the table of our booth??

Dick: oh that

Steph: no shit worlds third greatest detective

Jason: yeah you saw that dude and freaked, I once saw you laugh in banes face and use his forearm as a jungle gym? What gives?

Dick: oh come on! You’ve never wanted to avoid an ex??

*cue spit take from character of your choice*

Steph: AN EX?!?

Dick:??? Yes

Tim looks like he’s seeing god himself parting the clouds, giving him a view of the sun

Jason is just giving Dick the how did I not know this what the fuck dude how could you not tell me stare

Dick looks at each of them: what did you think I only dated babs and Kori?? I have a life outside of our night job?? Right? Like I’ve dated many people who still don’t know what I do at night?

Steph: no do how could you not tell us about H.I.M

Dick: I mean he wasn’t really all that…nice by the time we hit the three month mark and we didn’t have much in common outside of a shared hobby

Tim who was a closeted bisexual for 5 years realizing his first ever idol the first ever Robin also liked boys: .... you dated him for three months?? when?

Dick: I don't know we broke up like 2 months ago

Steph: How was I not aware of this information??

Dick: im sorry would you like detailed information about my sex life??

Jason, traumatised:.... so when I was Robin, you and roy weren't wrestling in the bathrooms..

Dick:.....

Tim:.....

Steph:.....

Dick: yeah Jay no shit?!?

Tim: so you and Wally... were not playing Jenga when I visited

Dick:... you are adults yes? you realise that I as an adult was not going to tell twelve year olds that I was getting laid?

Steph: Dickie DIckie baby.... we knew you were fucking

Tim: true

Jason: unfortunately

Steph: we just didn't know you were also fucking men

Dick:....

Dick massaging his temples: okay so.... you know I have a thing for redheads and I notoriously befriend my exes.

Tim: yep

Jason: mhm

Dick: and none of you thought for a second that my two redheaded best friends who both have a type aka Dark haired and can do a backflip... and just decided we were totally Hetero besties

Steph: yeahhh I mean...

Tim weakly: you guys just seem

Jay: like friends

Dick deadpan: Lian still calls me dad sometimes and Wally and Linda keep asking me to swing or join a throuple.

steph: fully believed they were joking high key tho

Dick: okay, okay... so the way that I talk about Joey Wilson... just didn't tell you anything?

Jay: okay that one... was my bad actually y'all were hella gay

Tim: hey! that's no fairrr we werent there

Dick: you broke into my house Tim, you literally stalked me

Tim: that's not the same and you know it.

[strawberry-hachi]

Thinking about possessive Chigiri. Anyone would get scarily protective if they lost their dream. He lost his career and his passion over a simple injury. People avoided him because of how closed off he got and he refused to let others get near.

When you saw him again after his injury he didn't look at you once. Only giving you one word answers and nods. You understood how much it destroyed him but it was still hard to see the effects.

But then he started avoiding everybody. Holding himself up in his room and attempting to rot into the earth. Oftentimes his sister would end up calling you in tears because of his refusal to take care of himself.

So it's no wonder you began heading over to their house more to try and help him. It was still Chigiri. The boy that you had found yourself enamored with even before he got crazy good at football.

Albeit, it was not easy taking care of him with his mood swings and injury. Often you and him found yourselves frustrated with each other because of that lack of communication and progress. Regardless, you two worked through it because what was the point of a relationship if you couldn't help each other when you needed each other?

It was around the time he finally started healing, his stitches finally disappearing and finally going from a wheelchair to crutches did you begin seeing that change. How he would follow you everywhere if you were together, always close to you. How he would begin messaging and calling you if you disappeared on him or were talking with someone else (and while this did annoy you, you found it oddly adorable). He even began messaging you at all hours of the day even if he had nothing to say.

You weren't one to reject such affection and took it in stride but you'd be lying if you said it didn't worry you on his sudden switch up. Perhaps it's because he finally has energy to put into his relationship now but that thought only puts a pit in your stomach. Because what if he finds something else? You aren't willing to stay if you were only a replacement for something.

However what you learned right before he went off to Blue Lock was in fact the complete opposite. That only after he got injured did he realize how much he genuinely cared for you. Couldn't stop thinking about you. How he would sit with his phone in his hand wanting to call you even though he could barely move a muscle.

How more often than not he found himself dreaming of you. Wanting you. Waking up in a cold sweat upon realizing you weren't there. How as the days grew longer the more he realized that he needed you next to him always.

His injury most certainly messed him up but it also made him realize many things about himself that he wouldn't give up for the world.

---

"Where are you going?"

You glance back at him, "Groceries, remember? I'm still helping your mom and sister, idiot," You stick your tongue out at him, getting another blanket to put under his leg as he sits on the couch.

His once neutral face turns into a small frown as he sets his head down upon the couch. He sighs, briefly fluttering his eyes and you immediately can tell he's doing it on purpose. Prick.

"Do you need an ice pack?" You chuckle as he crosses his arms and blows a piece of hair out of his face.

He rolls his eyes, "I'm not a baby."

"you're kind of acting like one right now," You raise your eyebrows as he immediately turns to you.

He groans, "You've gotten so much bolder since you've had to take care of me."

You smile, "No, you just never noticed."

He opens his mouth to say something but quickly shuts it again. His brows furrow and his fists tighten.

"Sorry," you smile, "Anyways, do you want an ice pack?"

"No, I want you," He says lowly, almost coming out as a growl.

You blink, "I'm right here, aren't I?"

He extends his arms, "How much clearer do I have to get, idiot?"

You let out a little chortle as you set down the blanket, walking over to him as he quickly goes to knock you down over him.

You squeak as you fall atop of him, his arms going to wrap around you like a vice as his head goes into your neck and nuzzles.

"Are you trying to hurt your knee again," you say incredulously, "Don't knock me over like that," You laugh as you thread your fingers through his hair. It's softer than you last remember.

He hums into your neck as his hold tightens around you. You slowly relax into his hold as you realize he doesn't plan on releasing you anytime soon.

"You okay?" You ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as your breath brushes against his ear. You feel him shiver against you and it makes your heart swell.

"Yeah," he glances up at you with a heavy expression and your face flushes.

This idiot.