#lessons from business failure

[failtosucceedlife-blog]

How to Get Back Up Again: Rebuilding After Business Failure

Overcoming the Fear of Failure: Tips and Strategies ON Re-building after business failure Failure is an inevitable part of running a business. Every entrepreneur faces setbacks and challenges along the way, and it’s how they respond to these failures that truly define their success. In fact, failure can be seen as a valuable learning opportunity, providing insights into what went wrong and…

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

How Ted’s Return to 9-to-5 Made Him Happier After an Online Writing Business Failure

Discover why going back to corporate life made this person happier and wiser and the key lessons aspiring content entrepreneurs should know before attempting such business. Summary of a Case Study As a content strategist and ethnographic researcher, I conducted extensive case studies on book authors, online writers, freelancers, ghostwriters, and affiliate marketers, providing valuable insights…

[wickedzeevyln]

Stroke of Luck

There are two types of people pursuing success. One pursuing luck, the other opportunity. One is cursing the heavens for bad luck, the other thanking the above for the lessons that failure teaches. One attributes success to good luck, the other with a sense of fulfillment for whatever was won, was earned. —e.d. maramat Luck is so unreliable. Don’t count on it. Yes, it shows up when you least…

[olis-inkwell-symposium]

Developing Backstory: Bringing Characters to Life

1. Where It All Started: The Character’s Origin

Place of Birth: Where did your character first see the world? Think about the impact of this place—was it a busy city where they had to fight for attention or a quiet village where everyone knew everyone’s business? This location doesn’t just say where they’re from; it shapes how they see the world.

Family and Upbringing: What was their family like? Were their parents loving or distant? Maybe they were raised by someone other than their parents—a mentor, an older sibling, or even alone. Family (or the lack of it) is usually one of the most significant factors in shaping who someone becomes.

Society’s Expectations: What was expected of them when they were young? Possibly, they were born into wealth, with all the pressure to continue the family legacy, or maybe they were raised to be invisible in a world where survival mattered. How does this influence who they are now? Do they accept or reject those expectations?

2. Childhood Events That Left a Mark

First Taste of Conflict: Think about the first time the character realized the world wasn’t a perfect place. Maybe they witnessed violence or faced betrayal. What was that moment, and how did it stick with them? This moment usually lays the foundation for the character’s emotional landscape—fear, hope, ambition, or distrust all come from these early life lessons.

Childhood Dreams: When they were young, what did they want to be? Every child has dreams—did they want to be a knight, a scholar, or even just someone who could travel the world? Did they have to give up these dreams? How does that lost dream shape them now?

Formative Relationships: Who was their first best friend, mentor, or enemy? Childhood friendships and relationships often create deep bonds or wounds that last into adulthood. Did they have a mentor who taught them everything, only to betray them? Did they lose a childhood friend that still haunts them?

3. The Teen Years: Where They Start to Become Who They Are

Trials and Tribulations: What’s the biggest challenge they faced as they grew up? Was it losing a loved one, failing at something important, or maybe being forced into a role they didn’t want? These teenage years are where the emotional armor starts forming—how did the difficulties they faced shape them into the person they are now?

Education or Training: How did they learn what they know? Were they formally trained by an institution, learning everything by the book, or did they learn through experience, like a street-smart survivalist? What impact does their education or lack of it have on how they interact with others?

Teenage Bonds: Did they have a first love or a first major falling out with someone close to them? These experiences often create emotional scars or connections that they carry with them into adulthood. How does that past friendship or romance influence their behavior now?

4. Key Life Events: The Big Moments That Define Them

Trauma or Loss: Was there a moment that changed everything? Think about a significant loss—maybe a loved one, their home, or a sense of identity. How does this event affect their worldview? Do they build walls around themselves or dive into relationships with reckless abandon because they fear losing more?

Victory or Failure: Did they experience a moment of triumph or devastating defeat? Success and failure leave their marks. Were they celebrated as a hero once, leading them to overconfidence, or did they fail when everyone was counting on them, leading to crippling self-doubt?

Betrayal: Was there a betrayal that shaped their adult relationships? Whether it is a friend, family member, or lover, betrayal often changes how we trust others. Do they close themselves off, constantly expecting betrayal, or try to rebuild trust, afraid of being left alone again.

5. Where They Stand Now: The Present Moment

What Drives Them Today: What’s the one thing pushing them forward now? Is it revenge, the need to restore their family’s honor, or maybe even just survival? Whatever it is, this motivation should tie directly back to their experiences.

Emotional Baggage: What unresolved emotional wounds are they carrying? Everyone has scars from their past—some are visible, others not so much. How do these emotional wounds affect how they treat others, how they react to conflict, and how they move through the world.

Current Relationships: Who’s still in their life from their past, and how do they feel about it? Did they reconnect with someone they thought they’d lost, or are they haunted by unresolved issues with people from their past? Do they have any ongoing tensions or regrets tied to these people?

6. Tying Themes to Their Backstory

Cultural or Mythological Influence: How does their personal story tie into the larger world’s mythology or culture? Do they carry a family legacy, a curse, or a prophecy that hangs over them? How does this influence their interactions with others and their perception of themselves?

Recurring Symbols: Are there objects, dreams, or people that keep showing up in their life, symbolizing their journey? Perhaps a recurring nightmare haunts them, or they carry an object from their past that’s both a source of comfort and pain

7. Character Arc: The Journey from Past to Present

How Does Their Past Shape Their Growth?: Every character has emotional baggage that needs resolving. How does their backstory drive their arc? Do they need to forgive themselves, let go of the past, or accept who they’ve become to move forward?

Unanswered Questions from the Past: Are there any mysteries in their backstory they need to solve? Maybe they’re unaware of their true parentage, or maybe there’s a forgotten event from their childhood that will resurface and change everything.

[avsram]

The Truth About Failure: It’s Not the Opposite of Success

Not knowing how to become success? Feeling stuck with failures? Read the real story and Learn to success immediately using your failure.

Divine trials are reserved for those endowed with the audacity to defy them, not for those who surrender. Refrain from asking the heavens why victory eludes you while favoring others. Instead, immortalize your setbacks, sharing them as testaments of resilience. Through this, you’ll inevitably unravel the threads of triumph unique to your journey. And if perchance you don’t, your readers will…

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 2 - Spider Luck

Morning came quickly despite the shitty sleep you received that night. The constant tossing and turning, the constant fear and anxiety of getting caught or broken into, really you couldn’t catch a break. 

Despite that, you did get some sleep, even if the sum total was like three hours. Still, it’s not like the nightmares would have let you sleep regardless. All your failures would consume your thoughts and drown you, reminding you of your losses. 

Sure you moved on, but it’s not like you had forgotten. Uncle Ben’s wisdom, Aunt May’s lessons, and Peter Parker’s kindness. You vowed to honor and cherish those memories, but here you are, in another fucking world, with a high possibility of you breaking some laws just to get out.

Desperate people do crazy shit, and you aren’t that sane to begin with.

Luckily this motel has a shower and you plan to use it. Making sure to clean yourself with what you have (unfortunate) and pick up the necessities that you desperately need. 

Taking your time (since you paid for it) you get yourself ready, making sure your mask, gloves and (stolen) wallet are secured inside the hoodie’s pockets. Suite nice and tucked underneath the turtleneck and leggings. First order of business is shoes. Maybe that should have been your first mission yesterday- oops. 

You definitely should have followed the young spiderlings example and fight crime with shoes. Well if you ever meet them again, you will…

When you meet them again. You will. You have to. No matter the cost.

And then your stomach rumbled. “Great! Time for cheap food. Wonder if that knockoff Wack-Donld place is open. 

Oh that’s a nice plan. But you forgot one thing, genius. Where is it? How would you know where it is? You can’t even map it since you also don’t have a phone. 

About to unlock the door, you realized something. It already was unlocked… “Hmm…” Well, it was good that you webbed the door then.

“Fuck.” Leaving the motel keys at the front, you skedaddled your way back into the streets, looking for either a bodega or a shoe store. In order to keep yourself somewhat sane, you start softly humming music you recall Miles shared with you.

After some time of walking around aimlessly (you avoided asking others for directions, gods know gothamites unwritten rule is to mind your fucking business), you found a thrift store.

Guess what you realized while browsing for shoes. If you buy and fight crime with shoes, and (as of right now) are your only pair, you will get found out. So crocs it is!

Black ones, because white gets dirty too damn easily.

Finding your size and other clothing necessities, face-mask, a backpack and a portable sewing kit, you were good to go and all for a cheap price! God you love thrift stores. You used to go to as many and as often as you could with Peter. Ya had a bad spending habit and Peter certainly never discouraged you. He was your terrible financial buddy.

Not now! You can’t reminisce right now, not until you found a way home. Asking the cashier for directions while also subtly declining their phone number (your excuse is that your phone got stolen) you made it to a corner store. Hurray!

Making sure to stock up on snacks, since- let’s be real, this will be your food source for a while, (no income, remember, silly) you stand in line to pay before your spider sense goes off.

Behind you. There’s a man, hoodie on, looking down, covering their face, hands buried inside their pockets. You’re betting it’s either a gun or a knife. 

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot.” Oh, it’s a gun. How original.

The cashier seemed to clock in to what is occurring and subtly reaches under his counter. Not subtle enough because the man behind you yelled, pulling out his gun and pointing at the back of your head.

What the fuck spider luck.

You quickly assess your surroundings, making note that there is only one exit, two normal people not including you but including the gunman, and the room feels tight and too small to do anything.

Conclusion? You’re fucked. 

“I said don’t move, hands up! Give me the money, all of it!” From the corner of your eyes you can see just how fidgety this man was. Probably trigger happy if you do something stupid.

“He-hey man, I don’t got much in here.” The cashier had his hands in the air, trembling and freaking out. 

“I don’t care, give me the money! Yours too, bitch. Now!”

How rude. “Alright, I’m going to get my wallet. Don’t shoot.” You made slow movements of reaching into your pocket for the wallet.

“Hurry up! Both of you!” The thug yelled impatiently. You could practically feel how sweaty and anxious this guy is.

You watched the employee open up the cashier and take the money out. The assailant motioned for you to place your wallet on the counter, which you do and step to the side, getting out of his way. Just as he goes to grab the money you quickly grab the wrist with the gun and twist it, making sure he dropped it before smashing his head onto said counter, money flying everywhere. 

Both you and the cashier watched the assailant fall to the ground, nose bleeding and out cold. “Um,” The cashier looked at you, spooked. “I panicked.”

Hey look at that, no shots fired baby! Ya still got it! You are a pro-fess-io-nal~!

“Hey man, no-um no sweat. You saved me.” He replies with a tremble in his voice.

“Cool, cool, I also didn’t want to get shot. How much for my stuff?” You asked, picking up the money on the floor, handing it back while placing your snacks on the counter..

“What stuff? I see nothing. Just go. I already called the cops.” Oh, so he wasn’t reaching for a gun (corner stores usually have one under the counters) but a buzzer or something? Nice, cool, great.

“Thanks buddy!” Hey man, free food is a blessing. Picking up your wallet and bag of snacks, you step over the knocked out guy, (pick pocketing any cash he had on him,) picking up the gun with your sweater sleeve and placing it at the counter. “Here, for the cops.”

“Thanks so much, again for everything. Hey, can I get a name? For the next time you come and…buy stuff.” He shot his shot.

“I appreciate it man, but I don’t give out my name like that. You know?”

And he missed.

“Ye-yeah…” He looked like a kicked puppy.

Just as you stepped out you heard the sound of a motorcycle nearby and your senses went off again.

“Stop right there, not another step.” A third party voice joins the fray.

What the fuck, spider luck?!

Instantly you recognize the vigilante in front of you but regardless you are not taking any chances today. 

Taking a step back inside the store, making sure to close the door on the guy. “Um, hey not to alarm you or anything but there is a guy with a mask standing outside.” Bringing your hands up (again) you back away from the entrance, snack bag swinging around with your movements. 

The employee nods pulled out the pistol from the counter (what the fuck, why would you grab that with your fingers my dude?) and aimed.

Well at least he doesn’t hold grudges for being rejected.

The door swung open and there stood a masked vigilante, but a familiar bat symbol on his chest caught the employee’s attention.

“Oh thank god it’s not another one.” Putting the pistol again he sighed in relief.

“Ah!” The yellow vigilante turned his focus onto you, (who backed up so much you tripped over the k.o.ed dude, fucking embarrassing) hands still in the air and snacks littering the floor.

Some professional you are. Fuck you spider luck.

“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” God, you're embarrassed and stressed.

The vigilante ponders for a few seconds, taking in the scenario, glancing at the employee who nods and turns his attention back. “Sorry about that. Here.” He extends a hand out towards you and to not be suspicious you hesitantly take it, your body tenses on instinct, pulling away immediately.

“Thank you.” you mumbled silently cringing at your embarrassment over spilled snacks.

“What happened?” He still faced you but you knew that question was for the other party member. And even if it was for you, you’re silent.

“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” The cashier looked at his hands. “This is his.” And placed the pistol on the counter.

This looks like the perfect time to poof away so you do. Right after you pick up your snacks. Signal sees this and silently aids you. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?”

No you fucking don’t.

Holding out the bag as Signal placed the last snack in you as you shook your head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” And you walk out for the second time. You could still feel his eyes on you until the door closes.

And guess who shows up.

The men in blue.

“Hold it right there.” Bro, you just want to be left alone, is that so much to ask? This time instead of bringing your hands up (for a third time), you instead clutch your bag to your chest, mask down and point inside, making sure your voice matches your facial expression.

“In there, he stopped him there.” meek, timid, nervous.

It seems to have worked as the pair of policemen entered the store and you didn’t think twice and booked it (in a non suspicious manner- if you run, they might chase). Passing by a yellow motorcycle you take a glance back and see the vigilante stepping outside the store, looking somewhat bothered in the presence of the authorities. 

Sucks to suck, bud, you know that feeling very well, not your problem anymore.

As if feeling your eyes on him he turns his face towards you, your eyes meeting a mask. Oh fuck! You felt your hair stand up. Holding his gaze for a few seconds before turning away (any other abrupt movement would definitely make you look suspicious) you continue on your way.

Forcing yourself to not tense up and fight the urge to shiver at his cold gaze you round the corner and you feel somewhat safer again. But it’s a false sense of security, because you know you’re slowly losing your mind.

Hopefully you won’t run into him or any of the other bats.

-

Duke Thomas was patrolling his territory, the Narrows, when he got a notification.

“Signal, there’s a robbing occurring five blocks from your location. The corner store Convenience. Know it?” Oracle’s voice spoke through the comms.

“I know my way. I’m checking it out now.”

“Checking the cameras- there are only three people inside. The assailant, a civilian, and an employee.”

“Got it-”

“Oh wait. Huh, well look at that.” Disbelief could be heard through the comms.

“What is it?” Did things escalate too fast?

“The civi knocked the guy out. Basically one move.” Color Oracle impressed.

“I’m here, anything else I should know about?”

“I’m scanning what I can see of their face, but I’m coming up blank. I’ll let you know if anything.”

Duke didn’t reply, instead as he pulled up he saw someone coming out of the store. “Stop right there, not another step.”

He watched the figure (gender unidentifiable with the oversized hoodie) freeze before making eye contact with him-er his visor. Despite the hood being down, he could not see their face completely with their mask, only their eyes and hair. Just a normal civilian, who apparently knocked out a guy with a gun.

Then silence and no movement.

Until the civilian backed away, closing the store door.

Stunned for a moment, Duke could hear Oracles snort through the comms. “Think they’re scared?”

“From what, me? They took down a guy with a guy and I scared them?” 

“Careful, gun pointed straight at you inside.” warned Oracle.

He moves towards the front door, pushing it open to see the civilian from earlier backing away still, hands up before turning his attention to the employee with a gun. “Oh thank god it’s not another one.”

“Ah!” A yelp caught his attention and it seems the civi tripped on the knocked out guy he just noticed. They immediately spoke, catching his eyes,“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” 

Duke holds in a snort before glancing at the employee who nods in confirmation before he focuses on the fallen person. He calmly walks towards them, taking note of their discomfort and reaches his hand out. “Sorry about that. Here.” 

Despite his covered eyes somewhat obscuring his vision, he couldn’t will them away from this stranger’s visible face. 

Duke watched their hesitation but placed their hands in his, and he swore he felt a spark that sent shivers down his spine. How curious. He pulled them up, noting just how light they felt in his hold.

“Thank you.” Their voice was soft, but audible.

They quickly pulled their hand away, the warmth gone. His hand held its place for a couple of seconds before he let it fall to his side. “What happened?” He still faced the civilian, both unmoving. He already knew what occurred, Oracle told him everything, but he wanted to hear them talk more.

Only the employee replied. He took note of their lack of eye contact. 

“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” Duke glanced as the cashier placed the gun on the counter. He’ll leave that for the cops to pick up if they don’t get here before he leaves. “This is his.”

His attention is once again stolen as the civilian in front of him kneels to pick up their half empty bag. Standing above them, he notes the tips of their ears are red, how cute.

“You good there, romeo? You kinda have a staring problem.” Oracle’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

Duke cleared his mind (he hoped he didn’t look weird or creepy, yikes) before leaning down as well and helped pick up the tossed chip bags.

Though he did take his time, just to squeeze a bit more time with this civilian that he has yet to identify. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?” He mostly directed this question to them than the cashier behind him. He wonders if Oracle figured out this civilian's name. 

Placing the last snack inside the plastic bag he watches them straighten up before shaking their head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” His eyes couldn’t seem to leave their figure as he watched them walk out the door.

“Cops outside, Signal.” Oracle once again breaks his attention. 

“Got it.” Duke turns his attention to the guy on the floor, sitting him up as two officers enter the store. One takes the guy off his hands while the other questions the employee, taking the gun.

A slight restless feeling took over him and he made his way outside, the one carrying the passed out guy following. Duke quickly takes notice of eyes watching him and he turns to see the complete unmasked civilian from earlier. 

This time, he really felt like he had a staring problem. He drinks up their appearance like water. Their nose, lips, face shape, everything. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he really couldn’t look away this time. Everything around him suddenly felt silent. He felt his body shiver.

Such a pretty face, this civilian caught his breath regardless. He’s not one to lose himself by a pretty face but it seems this one was an exception. He felt mesmerized, entranced, and tongue-tied. Something about this person had a strong lock on him, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat excited then put off. It felt like a very tight leash, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

Three seconds. Ever since he caught their gaze, they made eye-contact (despite him wearing a mask) before she looked away and left, turning the corner. (Their features look pretty feminine so he’s going with her). 

“Anything Oracle?” He mumbled, still a bit lost.

“No dice. How strange…”

Bummer. He mounts his ride and drives off to finish the rest of his patrol. He’s tempted to drive in the direction the civilian went to, but he wills himself to not do that. God it’s like he’s down bad. Really bad.

Hopefully he gets to see you soon, it seems you’re staying in the Narrows which increases his chances to see you. As much as he curses himself internally, he hopes he can save you next time something dangerous happens again.

Something formed in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t know if it’s desire or obsession.

Regardless, he embraces this feeling whole heartedly.

Prev; Next;

I struggled really hard, like REALLY hard. Duke is new to me (i only learned of him because of the webtoon) Now I'm reading issues he has been in and I don't know his character well but there is a SEVERE lack of Duke fics and I made it everyone's problem. So now he's down bad.

Updates are random and spars, no update schedule and don't plan to make one. This is my hobby not my obligation.

[ms-demeanor]

This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?

Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.

Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.

Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.

Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.

Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.

Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.

Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.

Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.

Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)

When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)

I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.

[steddieas-shegoes]

shit talkin' up all night

for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script

rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit

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The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.

They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.

It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.

"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.

"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."

"Then I'll get another job."

"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."

"Eds, you would hate it there."

"Well, it's a paycheck."

Steve sighed and walked away.

And then it got worse.

Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.

Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.

Back to square one.

Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.

Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.

Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.

It did start to work eventually.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.

"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.

Steve would push.

Eddie would push back.

Little things turned into big things.

And then Eddie came home drunk.

He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.

The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.

Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.

The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.

"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."

Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.

"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"

Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.

The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.

"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."

"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"

Eddie was silent.

"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"

Eddie shook his head once.

"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."

"Okay."

"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."

"Robin, I-"

"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."

Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.

He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.

Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.

When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.

"Eds? What's this?"

"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."

Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.

"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."

"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?

"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."

Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.

"You did all this for me?"

"For us."

"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"

"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.

They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.

"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."

"I know. I think it'll be great."

The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.

By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.

Steve leaned in to kiss him.

Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.

And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.

When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.

Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.

"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.

"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"

"Sounds good, love. Wine?"

Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.

Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."

[tarotwithavi]

Stop making excuses

Every day, many of us dream big. We think about the things we want to achieve like getting a good job, becoming healthy, starting a business, or learning a new skill. But often, these dreams remain just that , dreams. Why? Because we make excuses. We tell ourselves, "I'm too tired," "I don't have enough time," "I'm not good enough," or "It's too hard." These excuses become walls that stop us from moving forward. But the truth is, we are capable of so much more than we think. We can do anything and everything if we stop making excuses and start believing in ourselves.

The world is full of people who faced challenges but still did amazing things. They weren’t different from us. They didn’t have extra hours in a day or superpowers. What they did have was determination. They chose to see obstacles as opportunities, not excuses. When life got tough, they didn’t give up; they pushed harder. They knew that doing their best was the only way to reach their goals.

When we make excuses, we limit ourselves. It’s like tying our own hands behind our backs. Imagine wanting to run a marathon but never training because you keep telling yourself, “I’m not a runner.” How will you ever know your true potential if you don’t try? The same applies to every area of life. Whether it's learning something new, starting a project, or making a change, the first step is to stop the excuses and start taking action.

Excuses are comforting because they keep us in our comfort zones. But remember, nothing great ever happens in the comfort zone. Growth happens when we step out of it, face our fears, and challenge ourselves. Yes, it might be scary, and yes, we might fail. But every failure is a lesson. Every setback is a chance to come back stronger.

So, next time you catch yourself making an excuse, pause and ask: “What if I tried instead?” Replace “I can’t” with “I can” and “It’s too hard” with “I’ll try my best.” You will find that your mindset changes, and with it, your actions. Instead of avoiding challenges, you’ll start seeking them. Instead of saying, “I don’t have time,” you’ll make time.

Believe in yourself and your abilities. You have the power to do anything and everything. Your only limit is the one you set for yourself. Stop making excuses and start doing your best today. The world is waiting for you to show what you can achieve. Remember, the journey to greatness begins with a single step and that step is choosing not to make excuses.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Many of Harris’s mistakes were similar to those Hillary Clinton made in 2016. Like Clinton, Harris cozied up to billionaire donors. Mark Cuban, for instance, said he was delighted that Harris was abandoning Democrats’ commitments to progressive principles and letting the business community propose the policies it wanted. Like Clinton, Harris and Tim Walz made hubristic campaign stops in solidly red states like Texas and Kentucky rather than spending the final days laser-focused on crucial battlegrounds. Like Clinton, Harris emphasized celebrity endorsements while failing to successfully court unions. (Most notably, the Teamsters declined to endorse her after she refused to pledge that she wouldn’t break a national railway strike.) Like Clinton, Harris focused too much on the danger of Donald Trump (which is very real) and not enough on the reasons why she would be good at being president herself. Most importantly, like Clinton, Harris ultimately decided upon a strategy of trying to woo moderate Republican voters away from Trump, reasoning that it didn’t matter if doing so alienated progressive voters and the Democratic base. Chuck Schumer, speaking of Hillary’s 2016 strategy, infamously promised: "For every blue-collar Democrat we lose in western Pennsylvania, we will pick up two moderate Republicans in the suburbs in Philadelphia. And you can repeat that in Ohio and Illinois and Wisconsin." In fact, they just lost the blue-collar Democrats and didn’t pick up the Republicans! In 2024, Harris, too, aggressively touted endorsements from Republicans, promised to put a Republican in her cabinet (she even cited that as the answer to what she would have done differently from Biden!), and went so far as to praise and embrace Dick and Liz Cheney! The strategy was an abject failure. Because she wanted to appease both Republicans and progressive voters, Harris had to further indulge her weakness for speaking in meaningless word salads, since taking stances that were meaningful could have alienated one of these constituencies. Trump, who is canny about portraying himself as more anti-war than Democrats, correctly pointed out that an endorsement from the hawkish Cheneys should be a badge of shame, not honor. (Specifically he said Cheney is “"the King of Endless, Nonsensical Wars, wasting Lives and Trillions of Dollars, just like Comrade Kamala Harris. I am the Peace President, and only I will stop World War III!")

[...]

The lesson to Democratic leaders in 2016 should have been that Bernie Sanders had been right, that the party had betrayed working-class voters and would be doomed if it could not effectively counter Trump’s pseudo-populist appeal with a visionary alternative. (See the excellent analysis in Thomas Frank’s Listen, Liberal.) Unfortunately, the lessons weren’t learned then, and it doesn’t seem like they’re going to be learned now, either! MSNBC anchor Joy Reid is already insisting that Kamala Harris’s campaign was “flawless” (because she got “every prominent celebrity voice”), and pundits like Jill Filipovic are saying things like, “this election was not an indictment of Kamala Harris. It was an indictment of America.” (Good luck ever winning with the slogan “You’re the problem, America!”) USAToday’s Michael Stern says that instead of talking about “where the Harris campaign went wrong” we should talk about “where the American people went wrong.” The Harris campaign itself is blaming unspecified “obstacles that were largely out of our control.” 

6 November 2024

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

A/N: And here I am, once again. With another one-shot. Well... not a one-shot. This is chapter one of a series with Logan. More on that later.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: none

Summary: After a failed mission, Logan unexpectedly brings home an injured mutant.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story includes mentions of abuse.

Words: 5300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

Logan’s mission was a failure, a trap. He was glad he got away before he could end up in a cage, locked forever. It was supposed to be easy. An in-and-out mission with a mutant child. Fuck no. He was met with a bunch of soldiers, ready to kill him. And, there was no child. He quickly learned that it was a set-up. The child that Charles had found got moved away from that facility. 

On his way back to the school, he found a place to get a drink. The moon was up in the sky, illuminating the night world. The air got colder. He still had a long road home. One little detour to a bar wouldn’t hurt anybody, right? A drink would lift his spirits.

He parked a stolen motorbike in front of a dive bar. Drink or two to get his mindset straight, and then he would head back to the school. 

The place smelled like a hellhole - urine, spilt alcohol and cigars. It was a perfect place to hide a corpse. By the smell, he wondered if there wasn’t a rotten body under the floor. He sat at the bar, ordered a beer and minded his business. He could hear everything with his enhanced hearing - even a pin drop. 

Whistles came from behind his back when he was on his second beer. That could only mean one thing - a woman entered this hellhole. Probably a hooker, he thought. 

“Hey baby, are you lost?” he heard someone’s sleazy voice. 

“Now that’s what I call entertainment for tonight!” another man shouted. Some even made howling sounds. 

Logan gently turned his head to the side, ready to see an old hag or a trashy whore. What he found was a young woman approaching the bar. She had torn old clothes on her, covered in dirt and dust. He wouldn’t stare at her if it weren’t for the bruises and scratches on her face and hands. He frowned. What the fuck happened to her? 

She took a seat two seats to his left side. The corner of his eyes captured three scumbags approaching her as if she was their prey. Logan gripped his beer bottle tighter, his knuckles becoming white. 

“Baby, let’s have some fun,” one guy touched the woman’s shoulder, making her face them. 

“Leave me alone,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. 

“Come on, sugar, don’t be a prude,” another man touched her cheeks, mapping the wounds on her face. “Somebody had their turn. Now, we want to have some fun. Huh?” 

It was Logan’s cue to step in. He was fast enough to take the man’s hand off the woman. He gripped it tightly with his, twisting it. “Leave her alone, dipshit. I’m not gonna say it twice.” 

“Get your paw off me, dude,” the man growled. He couldn’t get away from Logan’s hold. His friends got his back, ready to beat Logan’s ass. “And leave before the we will teach you a lesson.”

The woman’s breathing sped up, distressed from everything that was happening. “Stop, please,” she said to all of them. But she was cornered at the bar by one of the guys. There was nowhere to escape.

Logan smiled at the bastards. “I’d like to see you try.” 

His adamantium claws slid out and penetrated the man’s skin on his arm, almost cutting off the limb. He screamed from the pain, blood spurting everywhere. Then was kicked in the gut. 

One of the men grabbed the woman’s shoulder, pushing her to him. A knife appeared under her throat. He wanted to get away with her. “No, please,” she gasped as she felt the man’s other hand wrapped around her torso, holding her against her will. She was tired, beaten and ready to give up. 

“Shh, darlin’, it’ll be over soon. We’ll have some fun. Be a good girl and come with me.” 

Logan’s eyes found the woman visibly disgusted and afraid. As he was about to finish the second guy, the woman pushed the bastard off her. 

“No,” she screamed. And with that painful sound, some force escaped her body, knocking down everyone around her, even Logan. He flew through the bar and smashed into a wall like the rest of the people. Glasses and bottles shattered around the place. 

Logan grunted, surprised by what happened. Slowly, he got on his feet. His eyes found the woman again, standing at the same spot, alone. Her body was shaking. It seemed she was on the verge of crying. 

Grunting, he stood up and walked to her. She pressed herself against the bar. “No, please.”

“Don’t worry,” his voice was softer than before. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kid.” 

She took a step back, shaking her head. She didn’t believe a word he said. No wonder. 

Fuck this night! Then and there, he knew he had to take her with him. At least he wouldn’t come empty-handed. 

“We are the same,” he tried again, slowly reaching for her. “I can take you to a safe place. There are people like us who can help you.” 

His eyes scanned the woman’s face. He knew only two options could have happened: A) She got beaten up by her significant other. B) She escaped some sick fuckers who experimented on her. 

People around were getting on their feet, shaking off the dizziness. They were processing what happened. Some of them were able to put two and two together - mutants.

“Come before they try to kill us both,” Logan tried her again. “Take my hand. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“Fucking mutants!” someone shouted. “Kill them! Kill them both!”

This time, the woman didn’t hesitate and grabbed Logan’s hand. What choice did she have? He led her out of the bar before the first gunshots started. He got to his bike and sat on it. “Quick, hop behind me.” 

At least seven men ran out of the bar with shotguns and pistols, shooting at them. One of the bullets hit Logan’s shoulder. He snarled from the pain. He started the bike before more shots could get to him or the woman. 

When he felt her body against his back, he started the engine. “Hold me tight,” he shouted at her. 

The woman grabbed him by the waist, gripping him tightly. The gunshots weren’t stopping. A few of them swished near their heads. Her heart beat fast. She gave her life to some stranger. The last time that happened, they tortured her. 

One of her hands let go of the man’s and turned her weak body to the side. One more time, the power escaped her hand, and she protected them from the bullets that kept flying around. Again, a veil of some energy surrounded them. Under the moonlight, it seemed silvery and light blue.  Bullets got absorbed into the shield. 

It lasted only a few seconds, and then the energy disappeared. The shooting stopped. Logan got them far away from that hellhole. Now, it was just the two of them on the bike driving away. 

“You okay?” he asked, shouting through the wind. 

He then felt her other arm sneak around his waist to hold onto him. The rest of her body leaned against his back. He heard a deep exhale and a soft “yeah”. 

He couldn’t believe anything that happened today - first, a failed mission that almost got him captured. Now, a woman on his bike, whom he saved from pervs. Plot twist - she was a mutant with an ability he had never seen before. 

And he didn’t know her name. 

Logan registered that her body got heavier, and the grip on his waist loosened. “Shit,” he cursed and slowed down, bringing the vehicle to a stop. He moved fast, doing his best to capture her body before she could fall. 

“Hey,” he shook her a little as he took her into his arms. “Come on, kid, I need you to come back and look at me.”

Unknowingly, he brushed her cheek with his thick fingers. Damn, she was pretty. That’s when she opened her eyes slowly, staring into his. “I’m sorry,” was all she said. 

“That’s okay, kid. Can you hold on a little longer? We are two and a half hours away from a safe place.” 

She took a deep breath. “Please, just kill me and don’t make me suffer.” 

Logan frowned. He got an answer he wondered. Option B was the correct one. “What? No, not happening, bub. I won’t harm ya. I promise you that.”

“I’ve heard that before.” 

“I get it, kid. I get you have no reason to believe me. Just this once, trust me.” 

He helped her to her feet, holding her tight in case she’d lost balance. Her eyes found his. Tears were sparkling inside of them. “Okay,” she whispered. 

“Good girl,” he praised her gently and helped her get on the bike behind him. “If you need anything, tell me and I’ll stop. Keep your eyes open.”

I should have stolen a car, he thought. But at least they were on their way to Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. 

They entered the school’s estate. From afar, they could see the lights coming from the building. The woman exhaled, and her hands again lost their grip. This time, she fell from the bike onto the hard ground. It was so quick that he didn’t have time to notice she was slipping off him. “Shit!” Logan cursed and brought the bike to a halt, jumping off it. 

He ran to the woman, kneeling next to her. First, he checked her up, just to be sure she wasn’t dead. “Hey, hey,” he tapped her face, trying to wake her. Nothing happened. His fingers managed to find a pulse. Fortunately, it was there. “Storm! Charles!” he shouted from the top of his lungs. “Anyone!” 

Logan grabbed her body, holding her under the knees and back. He started to walk to the school. One of her arms was hanging in the air. 

The main entrance door opened. Several people ran outside. Storm was the first one out, followed by Beast and Bobby. They were all dressed in sleep outfits. Their sleep was interrupted by the unexpected turn of events. It was two in the morning. 

“Holy shit,” Bobby commented when he noticed the woman in Logan’s arms. 

“Oh my god! What happened?” Storm questioned. 

Together, they walked inside the mansion and headed to the lower grounds where they had their infirmary. It was hard to be silent. When they walked inside, Logan put the woman on an examination table. 

“Damn,” Scott commented. 

Jean was already there, prepping the tools. When she approached the woman, she gasped. “What the hell happened to her?” Storm helped as much as she could. Hank approached the table as well.

Logan was visibly pissed. His chest was heaving, and he wanted to punch a wall. “Where the fuck is Charles?” he asked loudly. “Fucking mission, fucking night!” 

“Who did this to her?” Storm asked, her hands gently brushing the woman’s bruised face. It played with colours, spreading from one side to the other. Her fingers brushed against the scratches. “What’s her name?” 

Logan huffed. “Don’t know. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity to chit-chat when scumbags were shooting at us,” he explained to them. “All I know is she’s a mutant. She protected our asses. That’s why I brought her here.” 

“Vitals are stable. There is no internal bleeding.” Jean informed them once she checked the first data that she got. “Hm,” a sound escaped her throat. “We need to scan her body to see if she has anything broken.”

“Logan had to get a child, and he comes back with a woman,” Scott commented not so silently. 

“Scott,” Ororo glared at him. “He saved her life.” 

“You’re such a dick, Summers,” Logan frowned at him. 

“It’s good you brought her here, Logan,” Hank joined the conversation. 

“She was about to become a toy for some fuckers who can’t keep their dick in their pants,” Logan said. “And then she showed me what’s in her. I’ve seen a lot of shit throughout my life. Honestly, I’ve never seen this kind of mutation.”

“What did she do?” Hank asked. Everyone wanted to know more. 

The Wolverine grunted and shook his head. “Dunno how to describe it. Some force got out of her that threw us all away from her. It was powerful, it stung like a bitch. It looked like a veil of energy. When she used it again, it absorbed all the bullets fired at us.” 

“Flyrokinesis?” Jean questioned. 

“It’s a possibility,” Hank nodded. “But I’d need to see it. Or it could be Flyrogenesis.” 

“Or both,” Jean added.

“Defensive mutations are rare,” Storm chimed in. “It’s been decades since we got any information about a mutant like this.”

“Until we know more, we can only speculate,” Hank ended the discussion. 

“Let’s give her some rest,” Jean turned to the screens. “She’ll be out for a while, and we all need to rest. We’ll know more tomorrow.” 

They left the infirmary one by one and headed back to their rooms. The last two people who remained were Storm and Logan. Both of them stayed by the unconscious woman. “I cannot believe someone did this to her,” she said. 

“I think she escaped some lab,” said Logan. “When she was conscious, she didn’t believe I wanted to take her to a safe place. She wanted me to kill her.”

“It’s a good thing you brought her here, Logan,” Storm patted his shoulder. 

Logan’s eyes kept travelling around the woman’s face, taking in her hair and their colour. “For now, we can only guess what happened. But, fuck, she looked like she escaped hell.” 

. . .

White light, so bright it hurt her eyes. It was painful to open her eyes. She slowly got used to it by rapid blinking. The white turned into silver, then steel-blue, until the first outlines appeared. Her ears registered a steady beeping sound. Where the hell was she? What happened? What was this palace? Panic started to rise inside her chest. Her body started to shiver.

There was a man who promised to take her to a safe place. How could she trust a stranger?

Fuck, it was hard to breathe. The beeping sound fastened. She ended up locked somewhere. Again. It was another lab - she was sure of it. 

A woman’s face appeared above her. She had short white hair and a smile on her face. Weird. “It’s okay, you are safe,” were the first words she heard. “Calm your breathing. You are in distress.”

“W-what-”

“You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you here,” the woman had a soothing voice. 

“W-where am I?” she whispered with fear. Her whole body was shaking. Tears threatened to escape her eyes.

“You are in a school for mutants,” she explained. 

“School?” 

“Yes, school. It is not a lab or some kind of crazy facility. We have children here who are like us, special.” 

A school for mutants, she repeated inside her head. New emotion came to her face - confusion. “I don’t understand. W-who are you?” 

“My name is Ororo Munroe,” she introduced herself. “But they also call me Storm.” 

She tilted her head to the side. “Storm?” 

“I have weather-manipulating abilities,” she said with a smile. “What’s your name?” 

 She took a deep breath. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N,” she introduced herself, eyes never leaving Ororo’s dark ones. Y/N sat up carefully. 

It had to be a lab. There were monitors and displays with data. Her eyes lowered to her hands, and she saw an IV on top of her hand. Y/N realised her hands were not tied up. Was Storm telling the truth? 

“How are you feeling, Y/N? Do you need anything?” 

“Uh,” she tried to find the right words. “I’m tired, my whole body hurts, and I am confused.” 

“Give it a moment. It will all click together. I can promise you that,” said Storm. 

The door to the infirmary opened. An older man wheeled in on a modified wheelchair. Y/N’s eyes followed his every move. He was bald but dressed in a fancy suit. He had a gentle smile on his lips. 

“Y/N,” he said her name. 

She frowned, not expecting anyone to know her. It was alarming. “How do you know my name?” 

“Y/N, this is Professor Charles Xavier. He’s like us, a mutant. He has an all-powerful brain thanks to his telepathic powers,” Storm introduced the man to her. “He’s the headmaster of the school.” 

He approached the woman, gently touching her hand. “I am so sorry for your suffering, but please know you are safe here.” 

“Don’t…” she raised her hand. “Please, don’t read my mind.” 

“I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t want to pry. It’s just that your thoughts were screaming so loud, it was impossible not to hear them,” Charles explained to her. “I will not talk about it. It is up to you to share your story.” 

Her shoulders dropped, and she relaxed. “Thank you.” 

“Now, let me tell you about this place,” he wheeled a bit farther away from her, observing the room as if he were there for the first time. “In this school, we not only teach children and help them learn their mutations, but we also accept fugitives and help them learn.” 

She tilted her head, wincing in pain. “Are you offering me a place to stay?” her voice was softer than before. 

“That is if you want to,” Charles nodded. 

It came as a shock. Tears appeared in her eyes. “I don’t have to run anymore?” she asked timidly.

“No, Y/N,” he smiled. “You are safe here, with us.” Charles wheeled back to the door, obviously pleased. “Welcome to the X-Mansion. If you need anything, come see me in my office.” And then he was gone. 

Y/N turned her head to Ororo, wiping off the tears that gathered in her eyes. It was all surreal. “I was expecting many things to happen, but not this.” And then, “Wait, but I have nothing. No money, no clothes. I can’t afford to stay here. I can’t give you anything.” 

Ororo stopped her. “Don’t worry about it. First, you need to get better. You still have bruises and wounds around your body that need to heal.”

Y/N’s hands shot up to her face, fingers grazing over scratches. Then, under her fingertips, she felt a bruise under her eye that hurt a little. Her eyes were looking for a mirror or a reflection. She needed to see the damage. Her mind wandered into her memories, looking back at what happened. For now, it was all a mush. Everything that had happened overlapped. She pressed fingers to her temple, massaging them. 

“You okay?” Ororo’s hand appeared on her shoulder. 

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, just a mild headache.” 

Half an hour later, she met more people - Dr. Jean Grey, who ran more tests on her. She X-rayed Y/N’s entire body just to be sure there was nothing broken. Later, she did a scan to see if there was any indication that would capture Y/N’s mutant power. 

When Y/N met Hank, she got scared. She never saw a mutant who looked like that - a blue ball of fur and monster claws. No, he was not a monster. He looked like a beast. “I’m sorry,” she quickly apologised. 

Hank was with Jean, looking at scans they made together. “Do you see that?” he asked, his thick blue finger pointing at the blue hue floating inside her body. “Have you seen anything like that before?” 

“No,” she said. “But it’s nothing, to be honest. It barely showed in the scan. It might not even mean anything.” 

“Or it can be everything,” Hank looked at Jean. “But I agree, so far we have nothing. She’ll be healthy in no time. But, we need to know what she can do.” 

After the tests, Ororo brought her a bathrobe and took her upstairs. It was a perfect time to walk around the mansion. All the kids were in their classes or outside, and no one was around. 

Y/N’s eyes wandered around the place. She couldn’t take in how massive the institute was. It carried the history and memories of so many people. Overall, in one word, this place was magnificent. “This is amazing,” she whispered. 

Ororo’s hands held her shoulder as they walked to the highest floor in the mansion. She opened one of the many doors. They belonged to a bedroom. “Is this yours?” Y/N asked. 

“No,” Storm closed the door. “This will be your room, Y/N. You have a bathroom here,” she pointed at the door beside the bed. “And a closet.”

“I thought that this was your room. It’s too nice.” 

Storm laughed. “I have my room on a different level. Here’s how it works: The students share bedrooms. The youngest are in groups of three to four. The older two to three. Adults like privacy, so they have a room for themselves.” 

Y/N nodded, understanding what she was saying. “Thank you.” 

After Storm gave Y/N instructions, she was left alone in the bedroom. She had to sit down on a bed to take it all in. They gave her a bed, hot water, and so much more. It seemed surreal. What if this was all a dream? She sat in silence, waiting for someone to wake her up with torture.

Five minutes passed, then ten and fifteen. Nothing happened. Maybe it was real. Y/N pinched herself, and it hurt. It is real. She went into the bathroom and took a shower. Everything was there - towels, soaps, shampoos. 

Surreal. 

Clothes were resting on her bed when she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in fluffy towels. There were jeans, socks, underwear, bras, t-shirts, sweaters, hell even shoes. There were only a few pieces from each item. Y/N pressed her fingers to her temples. She wanted to cry. How is it possible that her life turned upside down in less than a day? 

Once fully dressed, she opened the door and peeked into the hallway. No one was present. She walked outside, clean and fresh, ready to explore the place more. Her walk was careful and slow. Her fingertips touched everything she could reach - the wooden walls, the statues and the paintings. Her eyes were travelling around the place, taking it all in. 

What was fascinating was the portraits of Oscar Wilde, Jane Austen and other novelists. It brought her memories of when she would read books in her bedroom.

“You alright, kid?” 

That voice was familiar. It made Y/N turn her eyes to see a well-built man with unusual facial hair. She couldn’t deny he was handsome. She had to blink a few times. This man was the guy who got her here. As she observed him, the white tank top with a black flannel shirt over it, she tilted her head to the side. Damn.

“Yeah,” she said. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he took a few steps closer to her. 

“You are the guy who brought me here,” she pointed a finger at him but quickly retracted it. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “I remember so little from that day.” 

“Well, tough night.”

There was a flash of memory from that night. His face, looking down at her, lips moving and saying something that she couldn’t quite comprehend. “Sorry for ruining your evening.” 

He chuckled. “You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” 

She opened her mouth but then closed it. She didn’t know what to say. The man talked instead. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“Y/N,” she introduced herself.

“Logan.”

“Logan,” she whispered his name. “Nice to meet you. And thank you for saving my ass.”

He only nodded. “I should get goin’. I have a class to teach,” he said. 

She crossed her arms akimbo. “You teach? Here? In this school?” 

“What, is it that hard to believe?” he chuckled. 

“Actually, yeah. You don’t look like the guy who wants to teach kids,” she commented. “What do you teach?” 

“History and combat training.” 

Y/N opened her mouth but then made a face, perplexed. “Combat training?” Why would they teach combat training in a school? And then it hit her, to defend themselves if necessary. 

Logan walked past her, heading to the stairs. “I guess I’ll see you around.” 

She gave him a simple nod, and then he was gone. Y/N’s eyes had trouble pulling away from the spot she saw him. This Logan guy was a handsome man with a rough exterior. 

She continued walking through the long hallway until she found another set of stairs that she took to a lower level. She must have been walking like this for another thirty minutes until she came down to the entrance hallway. This place was indeed huge. 

She kept turning, trying to figure out which way to go next. A school bell started to ring. Another lesson was over. The doors opened, and kids of all ages walked out. There were so many of them. And they were all happy. They weren’t lying. This building was filled with them - from the youngest kids to teenagers. 

A paper plane flew before her eyes, steadily floating in the air. A boy used his ability to make them fly. Magical. 

Her eyes captured Storm walking with another man, chatting. It was probably another teacher. Y/N decided to wait for Storm and ask about the place some more until someone shouted: “Watch out!” 

Y/N spun on her heel. Her breath got lost when she found a fireball heading straight to her. Her hands immediately went up in the air. To protect herself, a veil of blue hue covered her whole being. It was a forcefield, and it absorbed the fireball. Y/N could feel the energy in her palms.

Why would anyone throw a fireball? That scared the shit out of her. The veil disappeared once the danger was gone, and her hands fell to her body. She took a few deep breaths. Her eyes caught a boy staring at her with big eyes. Was it him who did it? Impressive. 

“Did you see that?” 

“Who is she?” 

“What kind of power is that?” 

The students saw it all. They whispered about it while staring right at her. There were many of them looking and talking. The voices rang in her head. Just calm down, Y/N, she told herself. They are just kids. 

Storm’s eyes were wide and sparkling with excitement. She was fast enough to run to her. “Forcefield,” she exclaimed. 

Y/N twisted and turned on the spot, looking at everyone. All eyes were on her. It made her feel vulnerable. Her eyes caught Logan standing at the stairs, observing. She couldn’t read his face. 

“Everyone back to your classes,” Logan ordered the students. 

“Amazing,” Storm commented. “We were wondering what your power was.” 

Y/N’s eyes widen. She’d never heard someone say that to her. Creep! A woman’s voice screamed inside her head. Murderer! Psychotic bitch! She wrapped her hands around herself, taking a step back. It all came back again. 

“Hey, hey,” Storm put her hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to hide here. We are all the same. The students were surprised by your ability.” 

Come to my office, Y/N, she heard in her head. She spun on her heel to look around, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“I think I heard the… the Professor,” she said.

“He’s in his office. That way,” Storm turned Y/N to the right side. There was a hallway leading to a big wooden door. 

Y/N managed to catch Logan’s eyes looking at her before he left. He was something else - that’s how she could describe it. 

Hesitantly, she walked over to the door, ready to knock, when she heard the Professor telling her to come in. As said, she opened the door and walked inside. She was met with the older bald man, still wearing fancy clothes. 

“Take a seat.” 

Y/N sat on a brown leather armchair. The place smelled like wood and books. There were lots of them. The armchair was comfortable. Her back was straight, and her body was stiff, always ready to run if necessary. 

“I would like to know more about your mutation,” he wheeled closer to her. 

“What do you want to know?” 

He smiled. “Anything you’d like to share with me. I know I can look, but I don’t want to pry.” When he saw the distrustful look, he chose different words. “The more we know about your power, the better we can train you. We can give you more information about your mutation.”

“How can I know you won’t use it against me?” 

Charles nodded. “You don’t. We will need to build the trust together.” 

“Before I answer you,” she took a deep breath. There were some questions, and she needed answers. “What exactly do you do here?” 

The man sighed. “What you see is true - this is a school. There was an idea it would become a mixed school for mutants and humans. That never came to life. Now, it is a safe place for mutant kids, disapproved by the regular society. I find children around the States, and we bring them here - if they want to. Occasionally, we give adults a place to stay, like we did for you.” 

It was sincere. Charles wasn’t lying. She could feel it. “This ability showed when I was around 15. I know that it can protect me when I am in danger. I can sense the energy in my hands when I let it out. I can’t protect another person if you are wondering.”

“But…” he goaded. 

“I killed with this burst of energy. I hurt people with it. I believe you saw it, didn’t you?” 

Charles nodded. “Yes, I did. You can create a protective force field that keeps you out of danger. For example, what happened minutes ago, the fireball one of the students accidentally threw at you.”

She frowned at him, not liking what he was saying. “Then why did I kill with it?”

“There is an explanation to it. From what I saw-” 

“When I asked you not to look,” she cut his speech. 

“I apologise, Y/N. It is not my intention to hurt you or be nosy. As I already told you, your thoughts and memories were screaming, mixing inside your head. The door was open, and I only peeked in.” 

She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. “You saw it all?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “But enough to have a picture. As I said, it is your story to tell, Y/N.” 

“What you saw?” 

“The day you used your power for the first time.”

It was a moment, a three-second glimpse into her past, but she was back in her child's room, messing with her then-boyfriend. And then, they were arguing when it happened. The force that escaped her body killed the boy and destroyed half the house she once lived in. 

“If we want to know more, we must see what you can do. Flyrokinesis is the ability to create and manipulate force fields. It is mostly defensive. However, there can be some offensive moves done with it. This mutation is exceptional.” 

She cocked a brow, not sold on it. 

“We can help you learn and work with your ability. That is if you want.” 

No one is forcing you to stay, Y/N. The choice is up to you. His voice was in her head again. 

No more running, no more experiments or killing. Y/N could choose her life. Out of everything that had happened in her life, this, so far, seemed like the best thing that could have happened to her. Fucking trust issues. 

“We have everything you need and more,” Charles wasn’t using his telekinesis. “You don’t have to worry about anything.” There was a smile playing on his lips. “No more running.”

“No more running,” she repeated. 

[traumawhomst]

Vampire v Hunter Fledgling let’s goooo

Tw: Reader is fatally wounded and dies but it is not shown graphically.

Honestly it was cute in the beginning, to be singled out by a Hunter, it hadn’t happened in centuries. It was a bit of an ego boost to think his name was still being spread.

The first time he sees them he almost coos, looking at this twee Hunter, all serious in their leathers, a black mask staring at Him across the room. What really piqued his interest was the fact that they never spoke.

Their first fight was more, well, a play fight for him if he was honest. He threw insults and witticisms trying to get a reaction from the Hunter with no luck. No matter how much he mocked and belittled them, they never once spoke back. Or really make noise other than grunts or slight groans due to exertion. It was charming actually, so many Hunters had their little speeches ready, about their tragic life or to mock Him, or worse go on a tirade about ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Those ones never lasted long, too caught up in their egos to focus on the extremely hard task of actually killing a vampire.

If they’re silent well, that means business, a single minded focus that He could respect. So he lets them live after the first fight. A reward for tracking him down when so many had failed in the first place, something to soften the failure of trying to kill him. He figured he’d never see them again, and he was feeling generous.

Oh but you had to keep finding Him didn’t you? Second time you ambushed him he chalked it to dumb luck, and fought you off with him seriously pulling his punches. You were still silent and nothing he seemed to say got you to crack. The third time was just annoying, he was headed to a party hosted by a dear friend, only to find you waiting right outside for him. He didn’t kill you that time, mostly because he didn’t want to be more late because than he already was.

The fourth time you appeared he was completely done with the situation. It has been fun the first few times but it was starting to seem like you needed a harsher lesson. He was going to just break a limb or something, force you to stop for a while.

And then you winged him, the spike firmly lodged in his left arm. That’s when he was done playing. Faster than you could see he moved forward and threw you into the nearest wall.

It was pitiful, even if he didn’t have much pity at the moment, to see you on your side breathing ragged your body too hurt to even curl into yourself. He pulled out the stake complaining about his shirt and the hole left behind as he strolled up to the Hunter who was trying and failing to reach their cross-bow stake launcher, and He stepped on it, breaking it with a satisfying crunch.

The Hunters hand fell and their body stilled as he got closer.

“Honestly, if a vampire beats you three times you should learn your lesson. I was being quite generous with you, but the ‘indomitable human spirit etcetera’,” he said his tone bored, as he prodded at the Hunter’s quivering body. “That would be the shock settling in,” he said blithely, going to stand up before changing his mind. “Actually,” which was the only warning you got when he pulled off the mask and you closed your eyes waiting for the killing blow.

When you looked at Him, abject horror was not what you expected to see on his face. Had you been injured that bad? You don’t think he got your face. The Vampire’s face was glued to yours and for a moment you were unsure if the silence was worse than a quick death.

“You’re eleven!” He balked pulling back for a second. He was of course off by a decade more or less, but the thought was still mildly annoying.

“Who’s letting you do this? Where did you get your equipment? Where in gods name are your parents?”

From your limited prospective he seemed to be having a complete mental breakdown. He kept speaking in some language you didn’t recognize as he looked over your body again and again. Then his eyes seemed to get wider as he remembered that you were in fact dying at the moment. There was no hospital near enough even with his supernatural speed it wouldn’t be enough time, even if someone came at this very moment he didn’t like your odds of survival.

Part of you relaxed when he finally bit down on your wrist, some of it due to his venom, but the other smaller part who was just ready for the pain to end.

You had not expected to come to, still laying on the ground as a seeping cold numbness grew. Your body hurt but not like it had before, somehow this pain was more terrifying. You spoke for the first time, asking in a broken voice what he’d done to you.

He on the other had just seemed relieved to see you awake. “I saved you darling,” he said running a hand over your head. “You don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

How big of a lie it was.

[techtimechronicles24]

🇺🇲 Dive into the history of the Apple III (styled as apple ///), a computer that marked an ambitious step forward for Apple Inc. Released in May 1980, the Apple III was designed to be a successor to the highly successful Apple II series, aimed at the business market.

💻 The Apple III was envisioned as a business-oriented machine that would bridge the gap between personal and professional computing. Apple sought to improve upon the Apple II's capabilities, both in terms of hardware and software, while maintaining backward compatibility. Steve Jobs, who was heavily involved in its design, emphasized aesthetics and functionality. The Apple III featured a sleek design and was intended to be more robust and reliable, with enhanced performance.

⚙️ The Apple III was powered by a 2 MHz Synertek 6502A processor, an improvement over the Apple II's 1 MHz processor. It came with 128 KB of RAM, expandable to 512 KB, which was a significant upgrade at the time. The computer featured an internal 140 KB 5.25-inch floppy disk drive. An external floppy drive could also be connected for additional storage. The Apple III supported a variety of display modes, including 24 lines of 80-column text and multiple graphics modes. It ran on Apple SOS (Sophisticated Operating System), which offered advanced features such as hierarchical file system and support for multiple users.

💡 The Apple III introduced several innovations, including a built-in clock, advanced sound capabilities, and a new keyboard design. However, it also faced significant challenges: The Apple III initially suffered from severe overheating problems due to the lack of a cooling fan. This led to hardware failures, with chips often becoming dislodged from their sockets. Early units were plagued by reliability issues, which hurt the computer’s reputation in the business market.

💔 Despite its rocky start, Apple released an improved version in 1981, known as the Apple III Plus, which addressed many of the initial issues. The Apple III ultimately did not achieve the commercial success Apple had hoped for, with only about 65,000 units sold. Nevertheless, the Apple III played a crucial role in Apple's development. The lessons learned from its challenges influenced the design and engineering of future Apple products, including the highly successful Apple Macintosh.

💾 The Apple III stands as a fascinating chapter in the history of computing. While it may not have achieved the commercial triumph of its predecessor or successors, its ambition and the innovative spirit behind its design left an indelible mark on Apple’s evolution. Today, the Apple III is remembered as a symbol of both the challenges and the relentless drive for innovation that characterize Apple's journey.

[authorred]

Power Struggle | Sylus x gn!reader | Love and Deepspace | Part 1

➺ Preface: Having fallen into the hands of the leader of Onychinus himself, it's obvious he enjoys watching you squirm and try to run from him. He has the power to make you yield, to make you stay. But little does he know; you have the same power; you just don't use it nearly as often. How will he react when you grow tired of being his plaything?

➺ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS MAN CARNALLY, RELIGIOUSLY, BIOLOGICALLY, INNATELY, INHERENTLY, GENEOLOGICALLY, MENTALLY, PHYSICALLY, EMOTIONALLY, I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME I NEED HIM TO RUIN MY LIFE, MY HOUSE, MY JOB, MY POSSESSIONS, MY PUS--

I'm so sorry Zayne I love you pookie pls forgive me but FUCK!

➺ Part 2 (coming soon)

Warning(s): None

Your eye twitches when you see the familiar red gleam of Mephisto’s eyes. No matter where you go in the N109 Zone, that crow is always following you. Why Sylus feels the need to keep an eye on you 24/7, you have no idea. It’s not like you’re doing anything. Perhaps it’s a security thing. To make him feel better. Either way, you’re hyperaware of the influence he has on the entire zone. Just his name alone is enough to spark conversations—good or bad.

You walk up to Mephisto and stare at him. “Are you going to follow me everywhere I go as long as it’s in the N109 Zone?” You ask.

Mephisto caws and tilts his head, his beak clacking together. Almost as if he’s saying ‘yes’. You give him a flat look before sighing. “Guess you can’t help it. You’re stuck with Sylus too, huh?”

~ When you enter Sylus’s base (or whatever it is, you never bothered to ask) Mephisto flies through the open door and past you. You assume he’s going to find his owner. You sigh and shut the door behind you, walking deeper into the foyer. It was typical of Sylus to be rather secluded—you don’t ever recall a time where he greeted you. Not that you expect it, per se.

With Sylus doing God knows what, and you not having to do anything, you decide to entertain yourself. Trotting off, you head to Sylus’ boxing ring. The last time you went there, your ‘lesson’ with Sylus happened, and though informative (you supposed) it wasn’t anything you didn’t know. Sometimes you graced him with the ability to feed his superiority complex. You walk over to a locker and open it, grabbing some red hand wraps. Having done this so many times before, you quickly wrap the cloth around and between your knuckles and fingers. When they're secure and you get everything else ready, you step into the ring and start lightly jogging in place to get your blood up. You hop over to the punching bag and wait a moment before beginning to lay out into it.

Your punches connect cleanly, the impacts crisp and strong. The punching bag swings from where it's hung from the ceiling via chain. You can feel the burn in your muscles begin to grow after several minutes of punching, and you take intermittent breaks to work out until failure. About twenty minutes into your workout, you pause your actions when you sense an intense, heavy gaze on you.

"Well?" You call out, sliding your gaze to him. "Are you impressed?" Your tone is slightly sardonic. It's not like Sylus to just give compliments with no backhanded comment to boot.

"You applied what I taught you," he replies in his usual baritone, melodious voice. "It seems you're not the little kitty I think of you as."

You roll your eyes and take a few steps away from the punching back, turning your body to face him. Sylus is leaning on the doorway of the gym, his arms crossed. He's wearing his usual black and red shirt with black pants, and his red-tipped dress shoes. As per, he looks like a posh asshole. "Are you interested in sparring this 'little kitty', or are you busy committing crimes?"

You can see something close to amusement flash across his face at the comment. "You're worn out," he replies. "You're soaked in sweat, and your breathing is heavy. It would be unfair to spar you in this condition."

"You scared?"

A beat of silence passes.

And then, Sylus lets out a sigh--and if you listen closely, it almost sounds amused. "It seems the more you're worn out, the cockier you become." He steps closer to the ring, hands reaching for some wraps. "Very well."

You watch as he wraps his hands and steps into the ring with you. "Try to go easy on me, sweetie," he says, gazing at you.

"Yeah, 'cause you'd definitely return the favor," you mutter to yourself, getting in a relaxed stance, shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. Sylus remains in a steady stand, weight distributed evenly between his feet.

Sylus' jab is quick, and you barely manage to dodge it. Ah, shit, I forgot how good at boxing he was. Goddammit. For the first several seconds, you remain on the defense to his swift and agile hooks and jabs.

"You will never win on the defense alone," his rough, baritone voice rings out. "I thought I taught you this. Seize your opportunities!"

He sends a nasty left hook, clipping your jaw a little. If you didn't snake out of the way, that would've surely sent you to the floor. "It seems you've gotten tired, Kitten," he says, and you're not sure if he says that as a consolation or a way of mocking you.

You let out a small huff. "Just shut up and keep going."

A soft scoff leaves his lips, "As you wish, Sweetie."

You two continue to box for a few minutes, with you on the defense and him on the offense most of the time. In between each jab and hook, he makes side comments--and you're still not sure if he's mocking you, or if he's attempting to spite you into completely dominating him. Either way, he's irking you.

After a particularly hard hook to your jaw, you stumble back onto your knees, holding yourself up with your hands. You let out a soft grunt and shake your head, attempting to pull yourself together from the small impact your brain just suffered from.

"I think you've had enough," Sylus says, relaxing from his stance. "It's clear your stamina is at its limit. I would rather you not suffer lasting effects due to your stubbornness." He walks up to you and offers a hand.

Seize your opportunities. With a low grunt, you take his hand and pull yourself up a smidge before quickly pulling his unassuming form forward. With deft movements and lower-body strength you have no right of possessing, you roll onto your back and pull him with you. You raise your legs, wrapping them around his neck in a triangle choke.

Sylus grunts and grips your thigh in an attempt to pry your legs from around him, but you squeeze tightly, keeping his arm hugged against your torso. It doesn't take long for his face to turn a concerning red, and he struggles to get onto his feet for a hint of respite. His body weight presses into you the longer you hold him there, his eyes growing distant and hazy. You don't wait out the time it would take for him to pass out. You quickly release him from your legs and push him back before hopping back up to your feet.

He stays on the ground for a few seconds, taking in the needed oxygen. His complexion slowly goes back to normal as his blood flow is restored. He's silent, and for a moment you believe he's going to retaliate, but instead, a low chuckle leaves his lips. "A submission hold," he says, more to himself than anything. "It seems this kitten has sharper claws than I thought."

You squint at him. No way he was just going to take it and let it slide without retaliation. Nah, this was Sylus. He'll get his get back. You slowly stand and back up, knowing his reach was longer than yours, and his legs are even longer. If he wanted to, he could easily sweep you off your feet with a single flurry of his leg.

Slowly, Sylus stands up, brushing dust off of his shoulders and arms. "Impressive. It seems your knowledge of combat extends further than I originally thought," he praises. For some reason, you feel wary whenever he compliments you--like he's planning something.

"Yeah," you reply slowly, "I'm a 'kitten' around you because I choose to be." You watch as he turns to look at you, his ruby red eyes set ablaze with. . . arousal?

"So, it seems," he replies lowly. "Things will be getting much more interesting, Sweetie."

[sylusjinwoon]

This is such a random question but have you ever written a story where the reader goes with jinwoo to the international guild conference(I think thats what its called)

Im not asking you to write it, you’ve already written so much. Its just that you have so many works I struggle to find a specific one

Byeeeeeee! Have a good day/sweet dreams

hey sweetheart! and no, i don’t believe i wrote a story where the reader attends a conference with jinwoo. however, i can help you find a specific jinwoo story that i have personally written to suit your needs! so i have made a summary of every single jinwoo story i have written under the cut with their links ♡ !

1. { sparkle } - first jinwoo story i have ever written told in jinwoo’s POV where he realizes he’s in love with reader

2. { 3RR0R } - where the system shows jinwoo that his soulmate is not cha hae-in

3. { pillowtalk } - reader speaks to jinwoo about her love for him while he sleeps.

4. { season’s call } - reader is constantly under protection from jinwoo’s shadow soldiers.

5. { hold me like a grudge } - investigator!jinwoo protects the reader while hiding a secret from her.

6. { surround you } - jinwoo is away on a business trip, leaving reader alone as she muses on how much she misses him.

7. { like you do } - reader is a young woman living in the real world who gets the chance to live out her dreams of being with jinwoo in his world.

8. { butterfly kisses } - reader comforts jinwoo during a bad day.

9. { love letter of flowers } - florist! reader and s-rank hunter! jinwoo fall in love 💐

10. { slow dancing in the dark } - reader sees jinwoo dancing with hae-in and feels envious.

11. { boyfriend headcanons } - general fluff headcanons

12. { arise } - reader is resurrected as one of jinwoo’s shadow soldiers due to a tragic event.

13. { rose-colored boy } - jinwoo takes care of a sick and feverish reader.

14. { sands of time } - academy arc; reader can’t stand jinwoo and lowkey hates him… or does she?

15. { light in the darkness } - antares!jinwoo basks in the reader’s softness.

16. { tiptoe } - reader is kept hostage as potential leverage, but it fails when jinwoo brutally attacks her captors to teach them a lesson.

17. { snooze } - reader loves to humble jinwoo by calling him dorky nicknames.

18. { enough is enough } - reader and jinwoo get into an argument.

19. { motherland } - jinwoo comforts reader after her failures.

20. { love me for me } - reader can’t stand being second best to her sister, hae-in.

21. { follow you } - reader becomes anxious at work due to a persistent co worker who can’t leave her alone…

22. { house of gold } - jinwoo fumbles his proposal LMAO

23. { headfirst for halos } - first yandere jinwoo fic.

24. { penpal } - academy arc; jinwoo wishes to get closer to his beloved reader.

25. { proud to be yours } - jinwoo makes a huge announcement during a press conference.

26. { the dark knight } - reader is a capable hunter who can’t stand it when jinwoo purposely prevents her from attending raids.

27. { musings for yandere jinwoo } - more yandere stuff

28. { moonlight } - jinwoo becomes captivated by reader when she calls him a strangely unique nickname.

29. { anomaly } - reader gets isekai’d into the world of solo leveling.

30. { of gifts and curses } - jinwoo muses how his strength and power are for the sake of protecting his beloved…

31. { reader inserts } - reader gets emotionally scarred after reading a painful reader insert.

32. { too sweet } - jinwoo falls in love with a reader who is the embodiment of sunshine.

33. { peaches } - a love story between jinwoo and the reader whom he has always loved.

34. { the only exception } - yandere jinwoo who falls head over heels for reader at first sight, willing to do anything to keep her by his side.

35. { selfish } - jinwoo being a jealous bby 🥰

36. { belong to you } - 100% jinwoo spice / thirst post

37. { touch starved } - jinwoo tries to woo (lmao) the reader and win her heart ♡

38. { cry for me } - another thirst post based on an ask ♡

39. { lover is a day } - comfort fic for jinwoo

40. { heartbreak feels so good } - reader is embarrassed with having a one night stand with jinwoo and wishes to forget. unfortunately for her, jinwoo wants nothing more than to remember and finally claim reader as his.

41. { marked by you } - more thirst posts for jinwoo

42. { the prince and the pauper } - historical romance / fairytale au with prince jinwoo sung and a commoner reader

43. { darling } - a yandere story with a twist. yandere jinwoo and yandere hae-in are deeply in love with the reader and would kill each other just to have you all to themselves…

44. { company } - lmaoo reader keeps friendzoning jinwoo, and he hates it.

45. { autobiography } - reader is an author that wants to write jinwoo's biography; what more can i say? 🥰

46. { perfect } - 18+ only, another thirst post for jinwoo

47. { saturn } - will jinwoo learn to love the reader’s true self hidden beneath a cheerful façade?

48. { slow it down } - boy next door jinwoo! what more can i say 🤭🥰

49. { that green gentleman (things have changed) } - single dad! jinwoo x daycare worker! reader

50. { god is a woman } - 18+ thirst post / drabble

51. { the admirer } - jinwoo loves to annoy the reader to capture her attention

52. { not a want but a need } - 18+ thirst drabble

53. { marry me } - the title says it all, really 🤭

54. { your heart belongs to me } - another 18+ thirst post

55. { the haunted one } - academy arc story where reader can see jinwoo’s shadow soldiers and becomes terrified of him.

56. { me + you } - another cute academy arc story where reader is struggling with math and jinwoo tutors her

57. { of painful auras and cute boys } - university au; reader has a migraine and needs to be saved;;; but by who ;3c