#⋆ don't forget to take care of yourself

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

ephemeral

Pairing: Batfam x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k words

Summary: You were forgetting something. However the most frustrating part was you couldn't seem to remember what exactly it was that you were forgetting.

A/N: This was inspired by this post by @bonefanatic! I know that it's Yandere!Batfam in the OG post but as soon as I read it this is just what it inspired. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

You were renowned for forgetting things.

You'd always forget to bring your keys the day when your mother happened to be running late. You'd forget your pencil case on the day of exams and forget your bus pass on the rare days that your father didn't give you a ride.

On sunny days you'd forget to wear your sunscreen. On rainy days, much like today, you'd forget your umbrella. Now, when you were a young girl, running back home through the rain wouldn't matter. In fact, you had vague memories of your feet splashing through puddles, hands shielding your face from the pelting rain while you and an old lover got soaked to the bone.

You could hardly even remember those days; just the sound of splashing puddles and the deep petrichor, the cold of the rain mixed with the warmth of someone's laughter...

A coo brought you out of your thoughts and your eyes met those of bright blue. The baby strapped to your chest gave you a semblance of a toothy smile, his teeth only beginning to come out and you returned it, leaning in to rub your nose against his, revelling in the giggles it brought out.

The sweet boy, who only ever saw you, was the reason you couldn't let yourself get wet, standing in the shade of an apartment building and choosing to wait out the rain.

You gave your baby a once over, making sure that he didn't get wet in your effort to reach the building. He looked fine and his clothing wasn't wet, although he did seem a little cold. You held his tiny hands in between your palms, repeating the process with his feet until you were satisfied.

The door of the building swung open and you immediately covered Thomas' ears to protect him from the cold breeze, letting him burrow his face into your chest.

In came a man that had to be larger than anyone you had ever seen in your life. Clearly, he had been caught in the rain, his boots were soaked and so was his leather jacket. He donned a motorcycle helmet, and your stomach lurched at the thought of him driving that out in this weather. Without realizing it, your eyes glanced over his figure, wondering if he had possibly gotten hurt.

When you brought your eyes back up from his muddy boots to his face you were slightly startled. When had he taken off his helmet? His blue eyes stared back at you, shock apparent on his features before he had schooled them back to monotony.

"Are you lost? I don't think you live here." His voice was low and gravelly, but it found a familiar place in the back of your head.

You gave him a small smile, "No, I'm just trying to wait out the rain. I forgot to bring an umbrella, and I really don't want my son to get sick."

His eyes glanced down to your son and you curiously watched as something swirled in his eyes. Longing perhaps? Maybe he had some baby fever? It didn't quite seem like that though...you just couldn't put your finger on it.

"Would you like me to call you a cab?"

"I already tried. The streets here are too narrow for a cab to drive through so I'd have to walk a bit before I'd reach the road."

He nodded, taking a beat before he responded, "Wait here."

And then he took off for the stairs and even though he looked relaxed, you saw him taking multiples stairs in a single step, resisting the curious urge to tell him to be careful and not to slip because of his wet shoes.

He didn't make you wait long, reappearing in less than 5 minutes with an umbrella and something else in his hands.

"Oh, I couldn't."

"Please, I insist. I don't think the rain is going to stop anytime soon and there isn't anywhere for you to sit down," He said earnestly, placing the umbrella in your hands, "I already called a cab. It should be waiting for you at the corner."

"Thank you, young man." You watched him run his fingers through the cute little tuft of white hair bashfully before he handed you something else—a fuzzy blanket patterned with bats.

You looked curiously up at him, "For the little guy. He looks cold."

You really wanted to refuse, but Thomas' nose and ears had begun to turn red from the chill and with the blanket he'd be better protected as you walked to the cab. So, you bundled up the baby in the cozy blanket and thanked the man again who said goodbye with a melancholic smile.

While taking the cab home, your fingers traced over the embroidered monogram in the corner of the blanket that looked like it was brand new.

T.W.

***

You don't know what it was about the travelling circus that had you so enraptured. There was just something about watching the acrobats soar through the sky like birds, as though they were weightless, that made you feel equal parts worried and in awe.

It was unusual. You didn't enjoy watching gymnasts while you grew up and you had certainly never visited a circus, and yet while sitting in the seats for the performance of Haly's travelling circus for the 4th time since they had arrived at Gotham, you couldn't help but wait in anticipation for the show to begin.

Thomas was clutched to your lap, every bit as excited as you were, when a man with dark hair and blue eyes—a common feature here in Gotham, it seemed—sat next to you.

You spared him a glance, only to find him staring back at you with a small smile and a cone of roasted chestnuts in his hand. He handed you a pair of ear protectors.

"They're handing it outside the tent—wouldn't want the little guy to hurt his ears."

You thanked him with a smile, placing them over Thomas' ears and giggling when he laughed at you pointing at the man who returned his toothy grin with one of his own.

"Would you like one?" He offered, holding out the warm chestnuts for you to take and you obliged, thanking him and relishing in the taste and the immediate warmth that spread through your body.

"So, what brings you to the circus?"

Your arms tightened around Thomas, resting your cheek on the top of his head as you contemplated the answer, "I don't know. I just like the acrobats. Every time I watch them, I feel comfortable, like I've been watching them my entire life. Which is weird because I've never seen acrobats before Haly's circus came to Gotham."

You looked back at him, "What about you?"

"My mom used to be an acrobat here. After I lost her, I like to visit, so I don't forget her." He explained, eyes scrolling across the bright colours of the circus, taking everything in. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, trying to comfort him.

He looked down at Thomas, watching as the baby gave him an innocent grin that had returned with a sad smile and giving a delicate little pinch to his pudgy thigh before looking back up at you.

"I really don't want to lose my mom a second time."

***

One thing you really couldn't appreciate enough before having children was the freedom to shop for groceries all alone. Now, after having an infant, something as simple as stocking the fridge turned into a long and arduous feat.

You’d have to get Thomas dressed, make sure his nappy was changed, and time it just right—long enough since he’d eaten that you wouldn’t need to change him again, but not so long that he’d get hungry and need you to breastfeed him in the middle of the store.

Not only that, you'd also be stuck pushing a cart around with him strapped to your chest because he was still too young for the shopping cart.

And finally, the most torturous part of this whole excursion—the car loading. Most of your bags were heavy and packed full, and you couldn’t load them into the trunk with Thomas strapped to you.

So, you’d carefully place him in the car seat, turning on the engine and air conditioning to cool the car after its time baking in the parking lot. Then, you’d haul the heavy groceries into the trunk, turn off the car, take Thomas back out, return the trolley to its rightful place, and—once again—secure him in his car seat before finally heading home.

You stared at the cart full of groceries—enough to last you at least 3 weeks so you wouldn't have to make another trip for a while—trying to summon the energy to load the heavy items in the blasted vehicle.

"Mo—Ma'am?"

A young man approached you, a half-drunk coffee in his hand and your brows twitched. Just how many coffees had this boy had today? You shook your head of the thought. Why would you even care?

"Do you need some help?"

Giving him a polite smile, you shook your head, "I'm okay. Thank you, sweetie."

He gave you a sad smile, and it made you immediately want to take your words back and to give him the world instead. The feeling confused you even more. Why were you so concerned about him? And why did he look so sad after you refused his request? If anything, he should’ve been relieved that he wouldn’t have to do any work.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind." He tried again, this time placing his hand on the handle of the trolley, his hand just a hair away from yours. It was peculiar—your instinct for stranger-danger urged you to pull your hand away, and yet, you felt an equally strong urge to place your hand over his.

You smiled again, "I guess I'll take you up on your offer."

He was stronger than he looked. Despite his scrawny frame, he easily lifted your bags into the trunk, loading everything and shutting it in record time. Dusting off his hands with a proud smile, he turned to you as if expecting praise—only to deflate when he caught you watching him with a small, lingering smile.

It was as though he grew sadder with each passing second, his expression dimming as he gave you one last longing look before turning that same gaze to Thomas, "I’ll return the cart for you. Why don’t you strap him in?"

You nodded, thanking him again, "Thank you so much for your help."

Using Thomas’ little fist, you waved goodbye to the boy. He returned it with an expression far too tired for his young face. You resisted the urge to tell him to get a good night’s rest, instead watching him push the trolley away through your rearview mirror. A pang hit your chest at the sight of his slumped shoulders.

***

A figure collided with your back and you would have been knocked over if he had been any taller, however when you looked down, a young boy with dark hair and beautiful green eyes looked back up at you.

"Ummi..." He murmured, before he even had a chance to stop himself and you frowned in concern for this child who couldn't have been more than 9 years old who all of a sudden looked so small and unsure and something in your soul reached out for him.

You leaned down, well, as much as you could with a baby strapped to your chest, "Did you lose your mom, sweetheart?"

He flinched, eyes going wide and his bottom lip began to tremble in a way that made you want to hold him to your heart and soothe him, "Yes...I have lost my ummi...and I wish she'd come back....I miss her very much."

You reached out a hand before you could stop yourself, almost reaching for him to run your fingers through his hair and scratch your nails lightly against his scalp—

"Damian!"

Your hand froze an inch away as a man, slightly older than you, ran up to him. When your eyes met his, a rush of something surged through you—so intense and so sudden that there wasn’t even time for an epiphany.

All you knew was, you had met this man before.

Only, you couldn't remember when.

"I'm sorry about him. You know how kids are." The man with familiar blue eyes told you, flashing you a charming smile that had done an incredibly good job of hiding the misery underneath. And yet, you still saw past the mask. And still… you chose to look away.

You smiled up at him before glancing down at Thomas, now realizing why this curious stranger's eyes felt so familiar—your son looked up at you with almost identical ones, "I do know."

The man followed your gaze to the happy baby in your arms and you watched as the corner of his lips had dropped from the calculated smile he had worn. It was like he had frozen in time and the more you watched him, the more despondent his expression became.

His son—Damian. Why did that name sound so familiar?— looked up at him with concern, now grabbing his hand and tugging him away.

"Baba." He said softly, finally managing to knock the man out of his stupor.

"Oh," He finally spoke, looking down at his distressed son, "I'm sorry, miss. I hope my son didn't hurt you or the baby. If you need any medical bills covered, you can contact this number."

He handed you a business card and walked away before you could even argue about how absurd it was that you would ask for him to pay your medical bills over his adorable son bumping into you. It was an honest mistake!

You could only watch them walk away before your eyes looked down at the Wayne Enterprises business card.

"Bruce Wayne, CEO."

'Bruce'

You swore you had heard that name before.

And yet... you'd forgotten.

***

Forever Taglist:

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@tchatso

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[employee210]

THANK YOU to the person who donated 1,000 USD. Our minds are fucking blown. And don't forget to take care of yourself and make sure your needs are met as well. I'm tearing up at the thought of Azura getting her first place must sooner than we expected.

And I don't want to leave out all the reblogs and likes. Tumblr has been the platform that is the most receptive, with hundreds of people pouring their hearts out and giving their well-wishes. Thank you, everyone. 💙

TSP FANDOM! ARTIST NEEDS YOUR HELP!

You may recognize @missazura from her art in The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe.

She's amazingly skilled and dedicated, but she needs your help!

She needs to move into an apartment as quickly as possible. The weather in Malaysia is intense and the home she's lives in now cannot take it. Her home is damaged from termites, rot, and severe water damage.

Her computer equipment necessary to keep her job is at risk with every rain storm! She isn't paid a typical bi-weekly schedule and goes without money for weeks at a time. And even when she's paid, it's all spent on keeping the house her family lives in from going without power!!

OUR BASE GOAL IS 3,000 USD. EVERY DOLLAR COUNTS!

[divinedelusional]

how rafe would treat his gf on her period

rafe cameron x fem reader

word count: 796

warnings: menstruation, mentions of toxic relationship and period sex

a/n: yeah this is how rafe treats his girl on her period but also how he would be like in a relationship throughout the seasons? i got carried away, sorry not sorry

s1 rafe: sooo i feel like fratboy!rafe genuinely doesn't give a fuck, i don't even know if he would be capable of being in a relationship. i see him being involved with a girl but only for sex and he would only know she's on her period bc she would just text him that they can't meet today bc of it and he'd be like "uh huh cool" and would go jerk off

s2 rafe: here i think situation would be slightly different. i think our psycho bby could acc develop feelings for a girl, it would mostly be just sex but he could start falling for someone. so i think he'd fight a battle in his mind if he should come over to the girl's house and be there for her on her period or to completely neglect her. it's just he doesn't have a clue what to do and tbh he's occupied with other shit, he uses sex with her to forget. i think it's very similar to s1 rafe but with guilt and feelings creeping in (and obvious denial for this emotions)

s3 rafe: so okay we all know the shift from curtain bangs psycho rafey to buzz cut man of the house rafe who looked like he's getting his shit together. of course that means he's different when it comes to relationships. he still deals with a lot, but he finds you. and he kinda sees you as this light. a small light who he has to be very careful with so it won't go out. he is attentive to you. treats you right, but with some sort of distance and you don't blame him. he doesn't spend every day with you, he didn't even ask you to be his girlfriend yet, didn't make it official but he will and somehow you know it. when you're on your period you become quiet. you don't text him, but he finds out as he had a feeling that he should drop by your house. he finds you on your couch with a heating bag and cookies. you told him you weren't feeling well and he ordered you hot soup and made a quick run to pharmacy for some medicine. he still was clueless and thought you caught a cold. "rafe im not sick im just on my period" "oh" it's not like he avoids you, no. he visits you everday for the next four days but doesn't stay for long, always excusing himself with some meeting or business. you know he means the best for you but wish that he's going to be able to let you in soon. you're really patient with him, but start having doubts.

s4 rafe: is now fully committed to you. you talked to him how you really felt about this relationship. that you really cared and wanted to give him as much time as he needed, but also you couldn't waste it anymore waiting for him. and rafe realized that nobody else would have such patience for him. he was thinking about you a lot and he admitted to himself that you were the one. he made your relationship official and two months later you were living together. he was spoiling you, really. taking you on dates, buying you gifts and most importantly giving you his time. getting to know you, observing your daily habits, remembering stuff you said. your likes and dislikes. no wonder he became pussy whipped. and started to feel like he knows you better than yourself.

that's why when it's that time of the month you don't have to say anything. rafe knows. just by the way you whine when you wake up, he knows if you'd be able to get out of bed and get on with your day or you'd want to stay in bed cuddling, because he's your personal heater, makes back pain go away. gives you massages. cuddles with you all morning untill your stomach start to signal that it's time for some food. oh and he doesn't care about his schedule. he could clear it off, cancel the meetings, but he doesn't bother. his girl is the most important, his business associates don't even deserve a phone call on a day his girl is in pain. also he's not opposed to period sex at. all. orgasm is a great way to reduce cramps, so if that works for you and you want him to help you, he is the happiest to do so. if you're not comfortable with having sex these days he totally understands. wouldn't even thought of forcing you to do something, on your period or not. when he discovered that he has so much love in him, his only interest is to give it to you♡

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

tagging: @sugaraanddiesel @cherrylipglossss hope they'll enjoy it and @cameronsprincess bc maybe it will put a smile on her face♡

[genderqueerdykes]

is it bad that i hate when people take my posts about trans issues and make trans women the center of them. my posts always say “trans people” when i talk generally about the violence and transphobia because i mean that. all trans people, not only one kind. but every time the comments turn it into a discussion revolving around trans women.

i’m not against talking about specific demographics! but it’s very frustrating when people take trans men and non-binary people out of the picture when i intentionally included them by NOT specifying a specific gender of trans people.

it’s honestly very disappointing and disheartening that trans men aren’t included in any type of discussion when it comes to trans issues. at least not that i see, i don’t know.

additionally, when (mainly perisex cis)people claim their supposed allyship to trans people, they only talk about how they include trans women in their feminism and women’s spaces. no mention of trans men. and when we ARE talked about, it’s “i hate trans men because they’re just like cis men :)” or “no i don’t want trans men in WOMENS spaces because they’re men”.

i don’t know… maybe i’m too sensitive, but it’s something i don’t like. we should definitely bring awareness to trans women’s issues but not completely forget about the existence of trans men.

i think it's okay to feel that way. i don't care for when people do that to me, either. this discussion is long overdue and so few people want to have it, but this is an issue. yes, trans women are allowed to talk about our issues, we are. i'm not saying we should never speak. what i'm saying is we can't take posts that are made for everyone and make them about us and us alone.

we need to stop making conversations about transmasculine people about us. not all nonbinary people are transfeminine, other intersex, multigender, nonbinary, genderqueer, gendervast, gnc, etc people need a chance to speak. like i'm serious, it's okay to talk about one's own experience. but if it is explicitly to point out why people should not listen to other people when they are talking about their own issues, and that they should listen to you instead, you are controlling the narratives, and shifting the goalposts.

it's one thing to say "here's what i experience" but if someone takes your post and goes. hey actually. trans women have it the worst. they're the one leaving other people out of the picture in that situation. whenever you try to point this out on this website, people foam at the mouth to try to kill you and it's ridiculous. when, well, with so many people bringing it up:

it's an issue.

there's been a specific group of people who identify as transradfems and people who identify with their politics even if they don't know the name for it. they are pushing people to be quiet and not speak about their own experiences because somehow that silences trans women, as if we can only be about one type of queer person at once. it's gotten old. like can we seriously just have this conversation already and be done with?

i feel like i have to say the thing that most people are afraid of, because this conversation is way overdue.

can disenfranchised dysphoric trans women stop attacking men & mascs because you don't like being seen as one? can disenfranchised trans women who have been hurt by men stop attacking men who haven't hurt you?

enough. men & mascs are not your personal punching bag. manhood isn't what hurt you. being forced to be a man or masc is what hurt you. the general concept of manhood and men did not hurt you. let go. i understand it's painful to get misgendered and treated as a man for life. it sucks. you don't deserve that. no trans woman does. nobody deserves to be misgendered. you don't deserve to be dehumanized because people refuse to see you for who you are. it's okay to acknowledge that you're in pain. but you gotta let the fuck go of your irrational hatred, because it will never help you accept or love yourself

you will never experience true trans joy if you spend all of your time hating on other people. hate solves nothing. if that's the only thing you see, that's the only thing you feel. if hate has nowhere else to go, it rapidly turns inward. you will not be seen as a woman by more people if you attack men. you will not be accepted by cis radfems if you attack men and parrot their politics. this isn't helping you, or anyone else.

we need to break down these walls and talk to each other. trans women and trans men can have conversations about our experiences at the exact same time. conversations involve multiple points of input. if we're only allowing one type of person to speak and one type of person to speak only: that is a lecture. that is not a discussion. if you never listen or give other people a chance to speak, you are lecturing them.

[tarotbyjam24]

What're your gifts and abilities ?

Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated :) thankyou for stopping by <3 🌷

disclaimer : Reading may or may not resonate . Take only what resonates leave the rest .🧚🏻

pile1. Pile 2.

pile 1 : Hi pile 1 , let's see what's there for you through this reading:) you're good at thinking out of box ,you've open mindset ,ready to accept new things , you've broad horizons , you're also good at praying so like in the sense of sprituality you can get your wishes granted by doing prayers . I'm also getting hopohopono prayer . You're also good at fighting be it verbal or physical means you just have a good body built or you could have air signs dominancy in your charts even mercury too . You also have a great gift of instropection which makes you shine among others . I also feel your throat chakra could be very active too if not you should work with that chakra . You also have the ability to come out of the saddest situations . No matter how much hurt you have been you alsways come out through it breaking all the walls and face it all with great responsibility without being embarrassed about your life's situations. I also feel you have an amazing ability of leading things innately . People may also get hypnotize by you when they see you . People may also like to do what you say without questioning it . You have ability of creating a mind map for the things in your brain like those people who will think it all in their brain first from zero to end and then put it down on paper . This is giving solving a biggg equation in your mind and then just writing a single line answer . I feel people may get happy after they see you like you've this vibe to yourself that changes the air of the room you enter in . It's your aura that does it . You're also the one who don't likes to take advice from others and just do whatever their heart truly desires . You don't run from problems . You fight them with the swords in both hands . When life throw lemon at you ,you make lemonade Outta them . That's all pile 1 I hope you enjoyed the reading . Bless you 🍪 see y'a soon🖤

pick a cards

pile 2 : Hi pile 2 ,let's see what's there for you through this reading :) you have this magical ability in yourself through which you can see through dark and be the light for others . You're also kinda magic stick that helps others to find the magic within themselves. I feel you may also have good physique without working out or you may have a strong gut with fast mukbang metabolism. You're the person who likes to be in their world . If you're alone it won't bother you at all but you're most likely to create something when you're alone like you can get mind-blowing ideas when you're in your own world. You're for real super innovative. You're also definition of live more lives dance more dances . You also got thid motherly nature to you regardless of genders .you maybe the mama bear of your friend group . You're also the one who can protect everyone . You're people's rock pile 2 .You're also super passionate. You've this constant fire to move forward in life doesn't matter if people stay with you or not . You're constantly levelling up all 4 seasons but you also take care of yourself which sometimes people forget . You're someone who doesn't get swayed away . You've very strong supportive system build for yourself whether it's you alone or people around . You can also be your strongest support system. It doesn't always need to be people around us . Sometimes they're the one who breaks it . That's all pile 2 I hope you enjoyed the reading . Bless you 🍪 . See y'a soon🖤

pick a cards

can you detect the minute difference between those 2 colours of piles ?

Thankyou so much for letting me read for you .I'm very grateful that I'm able to share my abilities with you all . It's been a great experience. Reading may or may not resonate with you since it's a general reading . Please take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so . If the reading doesn't resonate there were no messages for you through this reading ! 🤍🧚🏻I'm grateful if you read the reading . Wishing you all the great week ahead 🎀 and bless you all 🫶🏻🩷

💕 love ,jam

Dividers by @aquazero

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To Those Who Wait 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, virginity loss, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are tired of being the safe one so you decide to pay for some excitement.

Characters: escort!Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett

Note: yeah, I couldn’t resist.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Tony loves himself. Take care. 💖

'Morning, sunshine.' 

The sarcasm burns into every letter. You stick your tongue out and type your reply. You lay in the dim of your drawn curtains, still half-nestled in your bed. 

'Morning, sparky.' 

Curtis' response makes you giggle. 'Sparky?' 

No emojis. He's not the type. You laze despite the minutes ticking by. Your thumbs flick over the digital keys. 

'Give it but can't take it.' 

The next bubble has you breathless; 'oh I'm more than willing to give'. Oh, okay. You don't know how to answer that. You send a wink emoticon then prompty groan at your own cluelessness. 

You lock the screen and sit up. Is this what life is? Torturous obligation and cringey efforts to be normal. You want to send a message telling Curtis it's okay if he just gives up. You're a mess.  

You drag yourself out of your room. As you try to empty the reusable filter for the coffee grounds, you spill it everwhere. You need to start emptying it after use. Another missed checkbox. 

Your phone buzzes again. Great. You're sure it's just him calling you lame. You snatch the cell and go to swipe away the message but it isn't Curtis. 

WhatsApp. 

Hm. Maybe another recruiter cold messaging? 

You tap with your thumb, resolved to finally delete the app and wipe the slate clean. You just need to forget that mistake. If you can. 

The message waiting for you doesn’t bode well. 

‘Feeling thirsty yet?’ 

You stare at it. You can’t be sure it’s Hugh. The number isn’t the same, you would recognise the last few digits at least. The coffee machine spits out the last few droplets. You turn to grab your cup, the phone buzzing in your hand. 

You read with dread, ‘ah come on, just one more go.’ 

It has to be him. Who else could it be? What else could they be referring to? 

A video pops up and plays automatically. You click it to make it bigger as you try to make out what’s going on. Your heart drops and your phone nearly does too. You stare at the recording of yourself on the bed, undressing as you huddle near the top of the hotel bed. 

A cold splash sends a chill through you. You remember him turning on the speaker. He must have connected his phone but then you didn’t see what he did with it after that. You didn’t think to pay attention to that, you were too swept up in your own catastrophe. 

‘Let’s talk.’ 

Those two words spike your panic. What did you do? You’re so stupid and yet how are you surprised? Nothing ever goes right. How dare you even try to believe things could get better? That maybe Curtis could be something more than a disappointment. 

Loser. Loser. Loser! 

You want to bang your head on the counter. You want to scream. You want to crumple into a heap in cry. 

You don’t do anything of that. You simply key into the screen; ‘why?’ 

He sends a laughing emoji. Then a real message. ‘That’s what we’re going to talk about.’ 

Your eyes glaze with tears and you shake your head. He’s taunting you. Toying with you. This is all just an ego stroke for some narcissist that gets off on himself. Why else would he do what he does? Well, who are you to judge? You paid for his services. 

‘That cafe near your office. 12:30.’ 

You toss the phone on the counter like it’s acid. What the hell? How does he know where you work? How does he know there’s a cafe there? No, no, no. How does he know anything about you? Why does he care? 

You pace around hectically. You can’t stay still. You scratch your skin as if you might peel it off. An unbearable itch burns through you. You make a noise somewhere between a sob and a wretch. 

You reel in your doom, just enough to retrieve the cell from the floor. You shakily send a thumbs up. That’s all you can manage. Not a good job, just a confirmation. You’ll be there because you have no other choice. 

⛅

Your morning is frantic. You have a thousand things to do at once. The phone calls are endless and Shania double-booked another reservation. Don’t you always get the happy job of informing the guests they have to rebook. Fun, fun, fun. 

The demanding customers are the least of your problems. Work at the Travel Agency can be downright agony but right now you prefer it to the alternative. It’s the rare instance where you curse the clock for going too fast. 

Usually, a trip down to the cafe is your relief. An indulgence on an especially stressful day. That day is more nerve-wracking than any but you don’t think a dose of caffeine would make it any better. You’re already rattling through to your bones. 

You reluctantly leave your desk. Your phone is firmly in your purse, where it’s been all day. You don’t want to look at it, even if it’s Curtis making it buzz. You just want to shut down. 

You take the stairs. You don’t want to be around other people though you realise the cafe will be busy with the lunchtime rush. You wonder if that’s deliberate. You get to the ground floor and make your way outside. 

You stop before the cafe. You peer along the tinted windows and your eyes stop on the singular familiar figure. There he is. Hugh. Somehow, he looks different than that night. How, you can’t say. He’s wearing a similar swear, a light robin’s egg blue, luxurious even. The sweater can’t be cheap given the small logo embroidered on one side of the chest. 

You enter and skip the line. You go straight to the table and stop behind the chair opposite...him. You cross your arms and glare at him. Hugh casually lifts his chin and smiles up at you. Your forehead wrinkles in disgust. 

“You look wound tight,” he sits up completely, the last consonant sharp. “Need help with that?” 

Your nostrils flare and you drag out the chair. You drop into the seat and push your elbows into the table. You lean across it and snarl, “what do you want?” 

He snorts, “I like that about. Always straight to the point... even when you have no idea what you’re doing.” 

Your cheeks tingle with heat and you look away. You push your shoulders back and shift in discomfort. Even as the bruises fade, if you think hard enough, you can feel that night still. 

“That boyfriend know about me yet?” He sips from the tall porcelain cup in front of him. You shake your head and put your eyes to the table. 

“Aw, well, I can’t blame you,” he clinks the cup down. “He wouldn’t be able to handle the competition. Would he?” 

“I have to get back to work so whatever you want, just say it.” 

He chortles again and hums, “I said I wanna talk. We’re talking. Isn’t it nice?” 

“I don’t have money if that’s what you’re getting at--” 

“Money? Hm, that’s real funny. Oh, you think... you think I’m desperate? I wanted some Balenciaga.” He flicks a finger up and down the mug handle. “Thanks for that, by the way.” 

You huff and shake your head, “and it’s better that you get off on embarrassing me? Well, I hope you’re enjoying it because you’ve done a great job.” 

You peek up at him and his grin slants. He leans an elbow on the table as he sits forward. His eyes crinkle as he considers you. 

“It’s not about money, not even about a joke,” he says. “It’s the way you squeezed me. The way you whined for me,” his voice lowers to a sultry rasp. “The way you drained me fucking dry. You know how many princesses I’ve had on my dick and they just lay there and--” He makes a motion with his hand, “dead fish.” 

You frown, “you’re gross.” 

“I’m secure in myself,” he argues. “Real rich of you to act like you didn’t like it when you came all over my fucking fingers. Didn’t even take much.” 

You rub your neck and stare out the window. Your stomach is boiling. You just want him to get his kicks and go. 

“It’s how I know you didn’t lie. About being a virgin, or whatever,” he says. “You know, you could’ve sold that yourself but I guess you were having some trouble finding a buyer--” 

“My lunch is almost over,” you grit out. “Get to it, Hugh.” 

He laughs louder than before. He scoops up his cup and drains it. “You’re so funny. Really. You make me laugh.” You glower and his smirks widens. “Alright, alright. Pretty simple, you probably already know what I want. Just one more time. I just need to feel it again. That grip--” He makes a fist and you scoff. 

“I told you I’m not interested--” 

“No? Not interested at all in your porn debut,” he taps his phone and you reach across to swat his hand back. 

“Why did you do that?” You hiss. 

“Woah, I gotta be safe. I record in case something goes wrong,” he pushes your hand away. “Lucky me, it went so fucking right. You know how many times I’ve watched it?” 

You groan and rest your head in your hands. You’re fucked. Utterly and totally. Likely literally. 

“Tonight,” he says. “Tell the goth boy you’re doing overtime.” 

You sit back and stare at him. Your chest pits and your eyes glimmer. It shouldn’t hurt so much but it does. You don’t want to lose Curtis, not yet. 

This is exactly why you didn’t want to get attached. 

☕

You don't text Curtis. You can't bring yourself to do it. You just leave him hanging. He'll probably assume your busy. You're sure he has something better to do. 

Just like most things in your life, it's over before it begins. Why did you let yourself believe it could be anything? After tonight, it definitely won't be. 

That time is different. You don't primp yourself or preen over whether you look good. Instead, you toss all those things you bought to do yourself up the first time in the trash. Everything but the condoms. 

You pace restlessly around your apartment. That's another violation. You offered another hotel. 'Your place.' The argument was short. Fuck. 

He can't come here. He can't do this. You can't do this. Not again. 

Your legs wobble and you teeter to the couch. You sit down and fold over your knees. You can feel the dull pain already. Back in that room, bawling as he pumps into you, scraping out your guts. 

You're going to be sick! 

You lurch up and run to the bathroom. You spew into the toilet and pant through the acidic saliva left in your mouth. You shut the lid and flush. 

You should leave the residue in your mouth. It might repulse Hugh enough to get rid of him. Yet if you don't rinse out the acidic flavour, you'll just hurl again. 

You brush your teeth slowly then look at yourself in the mirror. You look scared. You are but you look utterly terrified. Why is this happening to you? 

You're not stupid enough to think you're special. No, you're weak. He's a shark and he smelled blood in the water. He set you up for this. You were too nervous, too desperate, and too stupid to see through his ploy. 

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it, even as it thrums against the table noisily. If it's Curtis, you might just cry. 

The door buzzer chirps. Right. You push away from the sink and shudder.  

Your feet hit the floor clumsily and you walk as if you're wadding through thick mud. You hit the button as your stomach churns again. His voice adds to the broil of sickness. 

"Baby, I'm here." 

You press the button down without as response. You stagger away and linger by the door. You hear him coming down the hall. You open the door at the first knock. 

"Someone's eager," he snickers. 

You don't say a word. You step back. He enters and whistles. 

"Not bad. Cozy," he says. "Bouta get real cozy, huh?" 

You shut the door and lock it. He turns and examines the walls. You stare at him. 

"Jeez, baby, you got a knife or something? Looking like you're about to crack up over there," he taunts. 

That might have been a good idea if you weren't nervous of stabbing yourself in an attempt. Besides, he's a lot stronger. You remember how thick his muscle was, how easily he ignored your pleas. 

"Hospitable too," he sniffs and slips off his velvet loafers. "Whatcha got going on?" He struts further into the apartment. "Wine? Beer?" 

He goes to fridge and pops it open. You loom like a shadow against the wall as you tiptoe after him. He sucks his teeth as he examines the contents on the racks. 

"Ugh, boring," he remarks.  

"Don't drink," you croak. 

"You didn't seem to mind the wine," he shuts the fridge without his bounty. "Fuck, well, it'll be good. You'll like it better sober. Although I do prefer a sloppy fuck." 

You grimace. He makes no pretense as he continues his exploration. He strides past the living room and head through your bedroom door. 

"No cute jammies tonight, huh?" He calls through. 

You waft into the doorway like a ghost. That's what you are. You are hollowed out. You resign yourself, surrender yourself to ruin. It's all over. 

Goodbye, Curtis. 

"Looks like you don't got much in mind but don't worry, baby, I planned ahead," he faces you with a wink. "Wanna try something new?" 

No. You don’t want to do any of this. You glower. 

“Shit, baby, you keep looking at me like that and I’m going to have to wipe that look off your face... along with something else,” he grabs his crotch and growls. “Hard already, you know? Just thinking about what I’m about to do.” 

Your lip curls as disgust crawls up your back. “Just get it over with,” you murmur. 

“Trying,” his eyes flash dangerously. The retort makes you think of Curtis but he never spoke to you so harshly. 

You step out of the doorway before you can fall apart. Your breath clouds in your chest until it feels like someone’s standing on you. You let it out slowly as plays with the black cat figuring on your bookshelf. He scoffs, unimpressed. 

“So,” he faces you and tugs at the hem of his sweater, inching it up, “why are your clothes still on?” 

You glance away angrily. “Your phone goes in the drawer,” you point to the night stand. 

“Pfft, come on. I already got the good shots. What’s another dirty movie, baby? I gotta say, you look good on film--” 

“Put it in the drawer,” you insist.  

“Damn, don’t gotta be so mean, baby.” He snickers and wiggles his phone at you then puts it in the night stand. 

“I’m not your joke, so stop laughing at me.” 

“Lighten up. I’m not laughing at you, baby. I just...” He pauses as he pulls his sweater over his head. He wears a thin white tank underneath, his reddish chest hair peeking out the top. “How many women do you think hold my attention once I’ve been in ‘em? Let’s just say, we both had our first that night.” 

“Don’t try to flatter me,” you snip. 

“Girl,” he squares his shoulder and the humour flickers from his expression, “get your clothes off.” 

Your mouth twitches. You take a breath and turn away. You look down at the wrinkled blouse you wore to work. You’re sure he’s full of hot air, he’s just mocking you, especially since he’s wearing Calvin Klein and you’re in Walmart clearance. 

You unbutton it as you hear his clothing rustle softly. A shiver speckles across your back as you throw it in your hamper. Your pants go just as easily as you push down the elastic waistband. Another wave of nausea threatens but you keep it down. 

You unhook your bra as your bed squeaks. You keep your eyes down and step out of your panties. You pause as you dangle them over the basket. You blink away the heat in your eyes. Why did you run away from Curtis all those times? Why does it have to be Hugh? 

You spin and march over to him. He sits on the end of the bed, naked, knees wide. You reach for him, intent to be done with him, but he catches your hands and holds them away from him. 

“Uh uh, you really think it’s going to be that easy,” he sneers. “Oh, baby, I didn’t get any of that mouth.” 

Your lip quivers and your nose scrunches, “what?” 

“Don’t worry, it’s fun, baby. I can train you up for the sad boy,” he chuckles. 

“Shut up,” you twist away from him. “Don’t talk about him.” 

“Aw, what’sa matter? He don’t make you wet like I do, huh?” 

You stomp away and snatch the box of condoms from behind your dresser. You take one and bring it to him. He snorts. 

“You like the taste of rubber?” 

“Put it on.” 

“You think I’m dirty? You saw my test results.” 

“I don’t care,” you shove it into his chest. 

“Be a lot nicer if you tasted the real thing,” he huffs. 

You cross your arms and wait. He rolls his eyes and peels the wrapper open. He pinches the thick ring then presses the rubber to his tip. 

“Well, get on your knees. You’re the one so anxious to get this done with. Is the boy toy on his way? Scared he’ll catch—woah!”  

He lets go of himself and the condom rolls up just to his tip. He catches your hand before you can make contact with his cheek. “I told you not to talk about him.” 

“I like this zest,” He stands and raises your arms above you, “but you won’t like mine.” 

He spins you and pushes you onto the bed. You fall heavily and bounce, your teeth snapping down on your tongue. You whimper as he slides his fingers around his dick, pushing the rubber to his base. He climbs up on his knees, straddling you as he advances up your body. 

You push on his thighs as he gets higher. Once more, he has your wrists. He clasps them against the mattress, locking them above your head. You flail your legs and he laughs again. His other hand goes to his length and he strokes himself as he presses the lubed condom to your lips. 

“Open up for daddy,” he jeers and pushes until he meets your teeth. “I feel the hint of a nip and I’ll skip the kitty and go straight for the peach. Understand that, baby girl?” 

Your eyes widen as your bottom puckers. Your fear radiates from your gaze and draws another pleased hum from him. You open your mouth and close your eyes, gagging as the rubber smears lube across your tongue. 

He angles as he dips down, touching your reflex as he invades your throat. You choke and spasm under him as he wiggles his hips, testing your limits. You can’t breathe. 

He rears and you heave in before he blocks your airway again. He groans and tilts again. Thrusting in and out as you writhe. Tears crest along the brims of your eyes and your saliva smears around your mouth. Each time, he pushes a little further. 

“Fuck, baby, how is it just as good as the pussy?” He purrs as he clutches your hair, rocking over you as the smell of the condom adds to your revulsion. 

He pumps into you until you’re raw with agony. He lets go of your hands and you push on his hips, begging for him to stop. He doesn’t care. He just keeps going. He quakes and groan, grasping the blankets around your head as he fucks you your head into the bed. 

“Gahhh,” he pulls out of you so quickly you gag. 

You cover your mouth as he bounces over you. He rolls the condom off and keeps stroking himself. You’re surprised as he spurts his cum onto you, the slimy mess string over your knuckles and onto your nose and cheeks. You put your hand out to shield yourself as he grunts and sits back on his heels. 

“The hell?” You gasp. 

“I couldn’t fucking hold it, woulda split the damn thing in half,” he puffs as he cups his balls. “Speaking of splitting things in half--” 

You lift yourself on your elbows, trying to drag yourself out from under him. He snags you around your ribs and pushes you flat. “Where are you going?” 

“You just--” 

“Finished? No, that’s round one,” he snickers. “You don’t think I got a few tricks? I mean, a blue pill keeps me in business.” 

You curl your lip again and he laughs even louder. You glance up at the night table at the box of condoms. He sighs. 

“Fucking tight ass,” he hisses. “Want me to see if that’s literal?” You look at him and bare your teeth. He waves you off and climbs off you to grab the box. “Whatever. At least you had the good sense to get good ones.” 

You slowly sit up and wipe your face. He leans on one knee and slides on another condom. He quivers and exhales through his nose. He grabs your shoulder and nudges you. 

“Wouldn’t mind it from the back,” he says. 

You resist and he snarls, “relax. If I go through the back door, I might not get it out with you being so uptight.” He pinches your nipple cruelly. “Go on, show Ransom that booty.” You tilt your head curiously. Ransom? His eyes dart away, “you gonna listen to daddy or you want some spankings while I’m back there?” 

You move reluctantly. You roll over and he grabs your hips, guiding your ass higher as he jostles behind you. He drags his hands around your ass and down your thighs, then up again. He smacks you harshly so you feel the jiggle. You yelp and he guffaws. 

“Oh, fuck, should flipped you over the first time.” He gropes your ass and rubs himself against you. 

Your insides curdle. You hide in yourself. You try not to think about reality. Not about the desecration of your home, your safe space, of the place you made all your own. Nor the same being done to your body. To your relationship. 

Whatever, it was never going to last. 

He glides down between your cheeks, lingering as if considering it. You twitch and he snorts. He trails further down and presses against your cunt. He groans as he stretches you slowly. It isn’t easier. Not better. Not like they say. 

No, they say the first time is the worst. No, this is. This is torture. This is hell. 

He leans into you, grunting as you squeeze him, as your body resists his intrusion. He bends over you, his torso flush to your back, and thrusts. He impales you complete and you cry out. You push against him as your body racks in agony. 

He pumps again and you squeal louder. Fuck. Your fingers curl until your knuckles hurt. You hang your head and shudder. He rocks into you, playing with your hair as he nuzzles your nape. He puffs into your skin and it sends a roil of disgust through you. 

You sink down until your face is in the blankets. You crush your arms beneath you and drone into the bed. He hooks his arm under you to keep your ass up, rutting faster and faster. Your flesh claps like thunder, a never-ending cacophony. 

He growls and brings a hand under your chin, then his other. You wriggle as he squeezes your face and hooks his fingers in your mouth, pulling taught your lips. You arch your back and whine as he keeps his callous pace. 

You grab onto his arms as the strain in your lips feels as if it might tear. He lifts your head and you deepen the curve in your back, trying to balance him at both ends. His nose tickles the back of your ear. 

“Yeah, baby, squeeze me just like that. Ugh, that pussy knows what it wants better than you do,” he taunts. “Ugh, you latched on tight.” 

You can’t speak, you can’t shake your head, you can’t deny him in any way. 

“You feel so good,” he snarls. “The way you go me... fuck I feel it in my gut... I’m gonna...”  

He slides his hands from your mouth and wraps his arms around you instead; one at your neck, the other around your middle. He pulls you up with him and pounds relentlessly. The bed rocks furiously beneath you as your addled voice gurgles from your throat. The headboard knocks into the wall in a frenetic tempo. 

“Yeah, so good,” he rasps between deep breaths. “So good. Never... think I’d let you go, huh?” 

You hang from his embrace. Defeated. You did this to yourself. So take it. 

[itsnesss]

hello! could you write a hwang junho x reader where he finds out that they were asked to join the games? like he discovers the card and freaks out over it? 🫡

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, emotional content, themes of concern and vulnerability, soft romantic moments, mentions of risk and danger

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the television is a distant murmur as you get lost in your thoughts. The card weighs on you, but something inside you urges you to ignore the warnings. The desire to change, to escape the monotony of your life, is stronger than any doubt. The opportunity is there, within your reach, and you know you could take it. But what if something goes wrong? The doubt consumes you.

Suddenly, you hear a noise coming from the kitchen. You know it’s him, Jun-ho.

You wonder what he's doing around here, but you don't have time to think too much about it. You’ve barely noticed him until now, but there's something strange about his presence in the last few days. He watches you constantly, as if he's waiting for something to happen.

You hear his footsteps approaching, and when he enters the room, his gaze goes directly to the coffee table where, unknowingly, the card has been left visible. The tension in the air is palpable. You don’t dare move it; you don’t want him to ask, but he does.

"What is this?" he says, his voice so low you can barely hear it. His eyes fix on the card, but his hands stay at his sides, as if he’s avoiding touching it.

"Where did you get this from? Who gave it to you?" His voice hardens, but there's also a kind of desperation you hadn’t noticed before.

Your heart skips a beat. You know you’ve left it in plain sight by mistake, but you didn’t expect him to react like this. Something’s not right, and his gaze makes that clear. The way his jaw tightens and the worry in his eyes makes you hesitate for a moment. You question if you really know what you’re about to do.

"You don’t have to worry about it," you respond, trying to downplay it, but your voice trembles. You don’t even believe yourself. You’re trying to act strong, but you know deep down that something feels vulnerable.

"Yes, yes, I have to worry," he responds firmly, stepping a little closer. The anxiety in his expression is palpable, as if he’s about to explode. "This is not a game. You don’t know what’s behind that card. You’re getting into something you can’t control."

You, however, can’t let him influence you. There’s something inside you telling you that this is your chance, that you can’t let it slip away so easily. Life has been dragging you through the same routine, and this could be the change you’ve been needing. Why not try it? If you could escape all this, maybe you could finally feel free, maybe you could be something else, something different.

"I don’t understand why you care so much," you say with a forced smile, trying to brush off the situation. You don’t want him to see how affected you are by his gaze, by his concern. You need to have control, at least a little. "I’m not a child, I can take care of myself."

The silence between the two of you grows dense. He looks at you as if he’s trying to read what’s going on in your mind, but finally, he steps toward you and, with a deep sigh, takes your hands in his. His fingers, warm and firm, make you feel a small knot in your stomach. It’s strange how such a simple physical touch can make your thoughts dissolve, how suddenly you feel so vulnerable.

"I’m just asking for myself," he says softly, his voice much gentler now, but full of an emotion you can’t quite identify. His expression is laden with sincerity, something you’ve never seen from him before. "Don’t do it. Promise me. I don’t want you to go into that, I don’t want to lose you."

His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, you feel something change in the air. It’s as if, for an instant, the rest of the world disappears, and it’s just you and him, in that small bubble of silence. His plea resonates in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if you’re making the right decision. His concern is palpable, and for a moment, you question if maybe he knows something you don’t understand yet. It’s so hard to comprehend why he cares so much, why now it seems like the only right option is to follow his advice.

And the worst part is that, for the first time, you doubt your own desires.

"If you need money, I’ll help you," he adds with an unexpected softness, as if he’s willing to do anything to keep you from making that decision. As if it’s not just an attempt to stop you from entering the game, but a genuine desire to protect you, to offer you something better than that risk. "Just promise me. Please."

He says it with such tenderness that you almost crumble. His words, so sincere, pierce you like a knife, and for a moment, you forget about the card, the game, everything that had drawn you to that decision. It’s just him, his gaze, and that glimmer of hope that seems to want to reach you.

It’s strange how, in that instant, everything that had been noise and chaos in your head becomes quiet. You feel the weight of his plea in the air, the vulnerability of his confession, as if he’s offering you his trust without reservation. Why does he care so much about what you think? Why is he so desperate to save you?

You remain silent for a moment, looking into his eyes. You feel the weight of the card in your pocket, but now, in his presence, it doesn’t seem as tempting as it did before. The game, the opportunity, all seem insignificant compared to what you’re feeling now, as you look at him. It’s not just that he’s asking you to stay away from danger; it’s as if, in some way, he’s asking you to believe in him, to believe in something beyond what you want. And the worst part is that it’s becoming hard not to believe.

Without thinking, you step a little closer to him, almost as if it were a reflex, and before you can process it, he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, full of an unexpected tenderness, as if he’s putting all his hope into that gesture, as if he’s asking you to understand him without words. The kiss is short, but it speaks volumes, and when he pulls away, your hearts beat together, intertwined in a connection you didn’t expect, but somehow, you understand. He’s reached you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

"Promise me," he says softly, as if he already knows he’s gotten to your heart, as if he’s already gotten what he wanted.

You remain silent for a moment, struggling with your own thoughts. The card is still there, close to you, but now, in his presence, you can’t ignore what really matters. His concern, his sweetness, his sincerity... all of that makes you question what you once desired with such fervor.

Finally, you take a deep breath, as if letting go of everything you’ve been holding inside. You look Jun-ho in the eyes, and with a sigh, you feel the weight on your chest lighten.

"I promise," you respond finally, your voice barely audible, but full of certainty. And for the first time in a long time, you feel that the most important decision you’ve made is the right one.

[wemalyri]

could you do enhypen reaction to ur self harm ?? I loved ur last post

pairing: hyungline!enhypen × gn!reader genre: angst, hurt/comfort warnings: feeling guilty, obv self-harm, brief description of negative feelings and thoughts + personal tw for each member w/c: 640+ a/n: thank you for your request!! sorry that it took me SO long(( (it's been in my drafts since august just so yk :/)e also I did only hyung line I hope you don't mind. I tried to mention and describe different reasons and situations. some members include sad endings and feeling of hopelessness. I know that if you're deep down in this even words of your loved ones might not help. if you have this problem pls remember that you're not alone( take care of yourself properly! also sunghoon one is kinds crazy, sorry for that !!! likes and reposts are welcomed !!!

Heeseung

tw: comparison to others, jealousy, toxic perfectionism

You hadn’t seen each other for a few months. The reason of it was Heeseung’s job. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t stay with you all of the time. Three months of tour felt like eternity. However, it was finally over and now you could see each other again. Heeseung promised you to come over as soon as possible but you didn’t expect him to do it so fast. Forgetting yourself, you ran to the front door and opened it with a bright smile. Heeseung immediately hugged you, holding you tight. His hand held your head, burying your face in his chest. “Gosh I missed you so much…” He inhaled your scent with a loud sound. “You smell like home.”

You playfully giggled and pecked his lips, looking at him. He pulled away to explore your appearance with a smile, but it immediately faded as his gaze fixed on your thighs. “Y/n…” He whispered with fear, not believing his own eyes. 

Upper side of your legs were covered in scars, recent ones. You absolutely forgot to cover them, too excited to meet your boyfriend. 

Yes, Heeseung was perfect for you but that only made your self-esteem worse. You always thought he was too good for you, you never were on the same level. Heeseung wasn’t just an idol, he was a goddamn ‘ace’. Perfect at everything, you never noticed his bad habits, selfish thoughts or actions. He was like an angel fallen from heaven, someone who would never match you. This is what you thought. And when he left on tour you knew he wouldn’t be able to control or see new scars if you left them. Every time you got jealous, you would blame yourself for this feeling, making your mental statement even worse. Negative feelings were too much to handle but you were too embarrassed and ashamed to share them with Heeseung, knowing pretty well that even his sweetest words wouldn’t help you. This is how you found a way to express everything you felt, punishing yourself for not being flawless.

Your eyes looked down, searching for a reason of Heeseung’s worried expression. When you saw your scars, you felt ashamed and guilty. 

“It’s nothing.” you answered, trying to sound casual.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Heeseung’s tone of voice was serious. It felt like you had never seen him with such an expression. His eyes met yours and you could see a deep worry and hurt in them. “Why have you done that?..”

You felt guilty. You didn’t want to hurt him with your words but you didn’t want to lie to him at the same time. “I…didn’t feel well.” The reason you named sounded so stupid that a sense of shame washed over you.

Heeseung’s expression didn’t change. It seemed like your words didn’t convince him at all. “You could call me… text me… anything but not that.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You have a busy schedule, I don’t want to wear you out even more.” 

“Y/n… It wouldn’t hurt me as much as this.” You went silent for a second, biting your lip.

“I didn’t want to complain to you, okay?” It felt like you didn’t understand each other at all.

“Baby, that’s not complaining when you tell me about your feelings. That’s normal. I’m your boyfriend, you don’t trust me enough to share your thoughts?” You didn’t say anything as tears welled up in your eyes. Heeseung immediately stepped closer, pulling you to him. Your hands wrapped around his waist, holding onto him as the last hope. He pecked your head, whispering. “Tell me when you don’t feel well next time, okay?” You slightly nodded, thinking that maybe it will help you to go through this. At least, you decided to give it a try.

Jay

tw: ED, fatshaming (reader to themselves)

Jay is the best cook you've ever known and everyone always says that they're jealous of your luck. Your boyfriend cooks for you everyday, he never fails to make sure you're eating well even when he's tired. However, for you personally this obsession with good meals never was for the best. Your relationship with your body never was the simplest one and even though Jay and you dated for a while, you managed to hide it from him. However, at the last time something went wrong and your boyfriend started noticing what attitude you actually had to food.

One day you were having a meal at your apartment and of course Jay cooked. Again. Sitting next to your boyfriend, you were picking at food. 

“Is something wrong? You don't like it?” Jay asked, looking at you through his eyelashes with concern. 

“No, everything's fine. Just not hungry.” You managed to say, trying to sound casual. Jay's eyebrows frowned and he pulled chopsticks away. 

“Are you sure? You haven't been eating well lately.” This question suddenly made you annoyed. You didn't want someone to talk about your eating problems, so you tried to change the topic. 

“Just not hungry.” The same words left your mouth and it made Jay confused even more. Something definitely was wrong and he just couldn't understand what exactly. 

“Y/n, I know something is wrong. Don't try to hide it from me.” Jay's tone was serious and it only irritated you even more. 

“I said I was fine!” You striked the table, that made your sleeves of shirt roll up and show off your scars. Jay looked at your wrists and his sight immediately catched those parts of skin you were hiding from him. Fresh scars were relieved for his eyes, blooming on your hands. 

“Y/n, your hands…” Jay spoke quietly in disbelief. Your eyes immediately widened in realization. He saw them.

You rolled down your sleeves, hiding marks of the hatred to your body, eyes looking down.

“How long ago did you make it?” Jay asked seriously, clenching his fists. He didn't hear an answer from you. “Why?..” For a minute that you were staying silent, a lot of different thoughts ran through his head. Weren’t you happy with him? Was he a bad boyfriend? Why did you hide it?

“Jay, it's not your fault.” His flaw of thoughts was ruined by your quiet voice. “It's just… me.”

He absolutely didn't understand. His eyes looked into yours with desire for more explanation. He was begging you to talk about it. 

“I-I don't like myself. My body. And I feel even worse every time you try to feed me. I'm fat. I can't let myself eat that much.”

Of course, he was so stupid all of this time. You had always been eating purely. Once he even noticed you judgingly looking at yourself in the mirror. And he did nothing.

“Gosh, I'm so stupid…” Jay hid his face in his hands, rubbing the forehead, trying not to bunch his head under the table. 

“No, you're not. I never talked about it. You were just being a good caring boyfriend.” You saw how awful he felt and it made you feel guilty. 

He quickly stood up from his place and you could see his watered eyes, when he slipped his hands away from his face. He approached you, gently pulling your wrist to the side to examine you. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else? Are there any more scars?” 

“No, Jay.” You settled him down with your voice but he didn’t seem to believe you. “Really. That’s all.”

Jay slightly sighed, closing his eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry.” You stood up and placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling even more guilty. 

“You shouldn’t apologize to me. You should apologize to yourself.” Jay looked mad but this expression on his face was actually hiding his concern. He looked at you and was met with your sad puppy eyes that made him want to hug you. His hands pulled you to him and he pressed his lips to your head. 

“I know…” You mumbled into his chest. “I just can't. I don't want to.”

“Baby… do you hate yourself that much?” Jay asked looking into your eyes when he lifted your chin up. Your eyes watered, giving him a clear answer. “I'm sorry…” He whispered. “I'll make sure you'll love yourself.”

You slightly shook your head in resistance but didn't say anything, ran out of energy. Jay patted your head, kissing your forehead, and while looking into his eyes full of love you thought that maybe he will keep his words. 

Jake

tw: reader can’t express their feelings, bad experience in sharing problems

Jake always was clingy towards you but it never was the problem. His hands almost always were wrapped around you, no matter if you were in public or not, you would feel his touch on your back or shoulder.

One day you had a movie-night and Jake was clinging onto you as usual. Wrapping hands around you, laying his head on your thighs, caressing your skin, he almost touched your recent scars that were covering your shoulder. Everytime Jake moved or shivered you would slightly flinch, avoiding contact between his hands and your scars under the shirt. 

Suddenly, your boyfriend pulled away from your thighs, holding onto your shoulder and you immediately gasped. “Ouch!”

Jake looked at you with worried eyes, pulling his hand away and holding it in the air. “Sorry! Did I grip too hard?”

You sighed, looking at him. “Yeah, a bit harsh. But it's okay.” Jake's gaze switched to your shoulder, covered with a shirt. He slightly pulled your sleeve up. “I'm sorry… There might be a bruise now. Let me look.” You immediately flinched from him. He didn't have to know about your scars. 

“No, it's okay.” Jake's eyes switched to your face with worry. 

“Baby, I'll just look…” He gently placed his hand on yours and you looked away, giving up. You knew he wouldn't leave you alone. Insisting would only cause more questions. 

Jake's fingers slowly pulled your sleeve up and his eyes widened. “Baby… what is that?..” Now he could see your recent scars that were blooming on your skin. 

There wasn't a certain reason why you did that. Sometimes negative feelings were too much to cope with and you, the person who had never been learnt how to take care of yourself and let your emotions out, would express everything, hurting yourself. You knew it was wrong but the thought of sharing your feelings with someone was too strange. Of course, you had tried. But it always ended the same. People would say you complain a lot and you would shut up, regretting letting out true feelings. But this time it was Jake. Jake who was your boyfriend, Jake who would never let himself hurt you. 

Your eyes watered with a feeling of despair but you didn't dare to meet his gaze. Awkward silence took the air away, not letting to breathe. However, tension in the room suddenly disappeared with Jake's gentle voice. “Hey…” His fingers tilted your chin up. Jake’s worried eyes met watered yours. “Where are they from?..” 

He looked so genuinely concerned that you couldn’t confess you were the one who did that with yourself. You bit your bottom lip, holding tears that started welling up in your eyes. There was no response. Jake started realising what your silent answer meant and his world faded away.

“It wasn’t you, right?..” he whispered, scared of his own words “You wouldn’t do that to yourself?…” Silence was making Jake go insane and he called you by your name. 

“Y/n?..” his hands held your, slightly squeezing them “Please, say something. I won;t judge you, I swear.”

You looked in the corner of the room quietly saying only a few words “That was me.”

Jake’s jaw clenched but he managed to ask “Why?..”

“I don’t know… I wasn’t… feeling well…” your voice was slightly shaky. Jake leaned close to you, making sure you could see everything in his eyes. 

“You have me. You can always share with me, you know that, right?” 

“I don’t want to complain to you. You don’t know what you’re signing up for.” you warned him, recalling your past experiences. 

“I don’t care. I want to make sure I’m doing the best I can to make you happy.” Jake saw your slight smile and leaned even closer to peck your lips before wrapping hands around you and whispering in your ear “Can you do that for me? Next time you feel bad… Tell me, scream at me, yell at me. As much as you need until you get rid of wanting to hurt yourself.” 

You caressed his hair pulling him closer and whispering “I love you, Jake.”He smiled, replying with the same soft words “I love you too.”

Sunghoon 

tw: self-harm in details, blood, low self-esteem, anxiety, jealousy, reader has REAL mental problems… (this one is crazy fr)

You knew Sunghoon pretty well as much as the fact that he only seemed to be cold. When you first met him, you thought he hated you for something or just didn’t like you, but after a while you found out you were wrong. Because of his cold appearance it’s hard to say what he’s feeling or thinking about. Still, you’ve loved him the way he is. However, your anxiety and self-esteem suffered the most in your relationship. Not because Sunghoon was too cold, but because you were afraid of doing or saying something wrong. Mental problems and fears took control of you and sometimes it led to hurting yourself. 

Sunghoon went out with friends. You were absolutely fine with that until it started being late and stars covered the dark sky. Sunghoon didn’t answer your calls, didn’t reply to your messages and you started worrying too much. Was he with other girls? Did he lie to you about his feelings? 

Minutes with these thoughts and attempts to call him again and you already found yourself in the bathroom with a blade in your hands. Fear of losing Sunghoon and hatred to yourself led you towards irrecoverable actions.

Consumed by your feelings, you didn’t notice the sound of unlocking door and footsteps of your boyfriend. He was surprised by not seeing you greeting him in the hallway and suggested you were sleeping. As Sunghoon carefully headed towards the bathroom he stood still in the doorframe, seeing you with bloody hands sitting on the cold tile. His eyes widened in fear and he ran to you, holding your shoulders and turning you to him.

“Y/n! Are you here? Do you hear me?” he enquired with fear slightly shaking you. 

Your eyes shoot opened “Hoon? What are you doing here?” 

“What do you mean? I came home as usual. What’s happened?..” he looked over you with worried eyes “We need to take you to the hospital.” 

Sunghoon started lifting you up but you stopped him lightly tapping his shoulder. 

“No… It’s okay…” You weakly smiled, tears on your cheeks becoming dry.

“It’s not okay. Your wrists are literally bleeding…” You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm but hysterical notes in his voice were telling the opposite. Sunghoon laid you on the bed and called the ambulance with shaky hands.When the call ended the room went silent. 

“We need to stop your… blood first” He hurried to the bathroom for some bandage to negligently stop your blood. Fortunately, cuts weren’t deep.

“I thought you wouldn’t come…” you mumbled watching Sunghoon treating your wounds.

Sunghoon looked at you with confusion “Why did you do that?.. I don’t understand…” His voice was quiet, your heart breaking into million pieces. 

“I’m sorry…” you whispered reaching for his cheek. “I thought… I thought you lied to me. You weren’t answering my texts and calls…” Your thumb slowly caressed his skin, wiping away a lonely tear that escaped from his watering eyes. Sunghoon gently took another hand of yours in his, rubbing the knuckles.

“My phone was discharged…” 

Oh. That was so stupid of you. How could you overreact so much?..

“Oh… I didn’t think about that…” The room went silent again. 

“Y/n, please… I’m begging you. Never do that again. Okay?..” Sunghoon’s pleading voice broke the silence. You hesitated before slowly nodding. “I don’t want to lose you like that.”

Your eyes watered, you started realising your mistake and what you did, what could happen. “I’m sorry, Hoon… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The room was suddenly filled with a syren of the ambulance that flew from the opened window.

[strawbeaniie]

Asks for selfship / oc x canon pairs

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Don't forget to practice Reblog Karma if you can ^v^!! Whats most important is having fun with this! (c) dollywons for the dividers

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🧭- Whats a song that makes you think of your ship?

🌦️- What does your ship do during rainy days?

🥨 - Who's more likely to hog all the blankets?

🎨 - Pick a Color Palette that makes you think of your ship!

🧸- What plushies or stuffed animals would represent your ship?

👜- Pick an outfit you'd like to see your f/o in!

🤧- How does F/O take care of you/ your oc when your sick?

🍊- Choose a food that makes you think of yourself / oc and f/o!

🧣- Which person in your ship gets cold easier?

💌- Is your f/o good at flirting? Or are they easily embarrassed? Do you or your oc go out of their way to embarrass them?

💄- Choose you/ your oc's date night outfit !! bonus: include what your f/o would wear too!

🎆 - What is your ships favorite kind of date to go on? Do you go on it often or is it reserved for special occasions?

🥦- Whats a food your f/o and you or your oc absolutely dread!!

🍏- Who gets jealous more easily? What sort of stuff happens as a result?

🍃- How does your f/o calm you down when you or your oc are stressed out? Or the inverse, how do you help your f/o calm down when they're stressed out?

pr✕ship + variants dni..

[14dayswithyou]

Ren's favourite letter is "s"!

Not sure if this question was asked before, but what's Ren's favorite flower? (w/o Angel's influence)

Thank you for your hard work and don't forget to take care of yourself! 💋

⌞♥⌝ Angel's Trumpets lmao

If it's Ren specifically, he would probably say something very obvious and cliché like roses or carnations! [REDACTED] on the other hand doesn't really like flowers, so they don't have a favourite.

However!! In the past, I have mentioned a few times that sunflowers and forget-me-nots would be ideal flowers that represent Ren — and I've also said that [REDACTED] would most likely cry if Angel gifted them a lotus flower as well!

[theliteraryarchitect]

Hi, this is a really specific situation, but I'm at a loss. I had an accident that left me with lasting brain issues, and my writing has taken a hit. I went from being able to churn out a 3k word chapter in a day to needing an hour to write 50 words. I have so many ideas but can't express them, and I hate writing as a result. I know practice and just pushing through are going to be the main pieces of advice, but do you have any other suggestions or resources for someone who is having to re-learn how to be a writer?

Hey there! First off, I’m so sorry this response took me so long. Your Ask really stuck with me, and I wanted to give it the thought and care it deserves.

I can’t imagine how frustrating and heartbreaking it must be to go through such a big shift in your writing process. Losing that ease and flow—especially when you have so many ideas—is a huge adjustment. It’s a testament to your creativity and drive that you’re still thinking about how to keep writing despite the challenges.

You’re absolutely right that practice and pushing through are often the go-to advice, but I think it’s equally important to give yourself permission to grieve what’s changed. Writing can feel like such a core part of who we are, and when it’s harder than it used to be, it’s natural to feel a sense of loss.

Here are a few suggestions that might help as you navigate this:

1. Try Different Mediums: If typing feels like slogging through mud, maybe experiment with dictation software or voice-to-text tools. Speaking your ideas aloud could help you capture more words without the same strain.

2. Focus on Smaller Goals: Instead of trying to write full chapters, set tiny, manageable goals—like jotting down a single image or one sentence that excites you. Those little wins can add up and feel more achievable.

3. Explore New Ways of Outlining: If you’re struggling to get the words out, focus on the ideas instead. Create bullet points, mind maps, or even doodles to capture the essence of your story without the pressure of fully fleshed-out prose.

4. Be Kind to Yourself: This is the hardest one, but it’s so important. Writing isn’t just about the final product; it’s about the joy of creating. Even if the words come slower, every step you take is progress.

And don't forget to give yourself a ton of credit! Re-learning how to write in a way that works for you now is an incredible act of resilience. You’re still a writer, and your stories are still worth telling, even if the path looks different.

Hope this helps!

Bucket

/ / / / / / / / / / /

@theliteraryarchitect is a writing advice blog run by me, Bucket Siler, a writer and developmental editor. For more writing help, download my Free Resource Library for Fiction Writers, join my email list, or check out my book The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers.

[sikyulioness]

I don't know if you can make head canons but can you make one for Jinwoo as a yandere 🥲

✨Hope you like it✨

_______. ._______

Bound by Shadows

Jinwoo wasn’t the type to believe in fate. Destiny was just an excuse for weak men to justify their failures. He had spent years clawing his way to the top, turning his own death sentence into power, and he refused to let anything or anyone distract him from that.

And yet, the first time he saw you, something shifted.

It was supposed to be an ordinary evening. He had just finished eliminating a gate’s remaining threats, his shadows slithering back into place as he stepped into the quiet city streets. The weight of his responsibilities loomed over him, as always, yet for the first time in a long while, his mind went utterly blank.

Because there you were.

You weren’t extraordinary. There was no overwhelming presence, no aura that demanded attention. If anything, you were unassuming, lost in your own world as you walked past. But that was what made Jinwoo stop.

The world was a cruel, dangerous place, and yet you moved through it like you had never known fear. How? How had you managed to exist so quietly, so untouched by the darkness he had come to know so well?

His shadows stirred beneath him, curious, waiting.

He told himself he would forget you by the time he turned the corner.

But he didn’t.

—

At first, it was nothing. Just coincidence. He convinced himself that running into you again was a matter of probability, nothing more. Seoul wasn’t small, but it wasn’t impossible for two people to frequent the same places.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the way his eyes always found you in a crowd. The way his feet seemed to move on their own, trailing a little too close when he should have been walking the other way.

The shadows made it worse. They were drawn to you, following at a distance even when Jinwoo willed them not to. It was unnatural, the way they curled in anticipation whenever you were near, the way they whispered in his ear that you were something important.

It wasn’t until he noticed the changes that he realized just how far he had already fallen.

The obstacles in your life began disappearing before you even noticed them. A late-night stalker who had been watching you for weeks? Gone before he could take a step too close. That café you always visited, where the barista had been a little too friendly for Jinwoo’s liking? Suddenly under new management. The landlord who was thinking of raising your rent? Changed his mind overnight.

Jinwoo made sure your world remained untouched. Unbothered. Safe.

He was careful, always careful, never letting you see the way he stood just out of your line of sight. The way he listened to your voice from the shadows, memorizing your habits, your routines, the way your lips curled when you were deep in thought.

He thought it would be enough.

It wasn’t.

—

The gifts started appearing before he could stop himself.

A necklace in your favorite color, left on your doorstep with no note. A coat just thick enough to keep you warm when winter rolled in, arriving at your door as if it had been a mistaken delivery. Things you never mentioned wanting, yet somehow needed.

And when he saw you wear them—saw the way you smiled as you ran your fingers over the delicate chain, saw the way you pulled the coat tighter around yourself on cold mornings—something in him settled.

As if this was always how it was supposed to be.

—

Jinwoo never meant to frighten you.

He never thought you would notice, never thought you would realize the way the world bent around you in ways it never did before.

But then you tried to leave.

He heard it in your voice before you even made the decision, the way your words wavered as you told a friend you were thinking of moving. A fresh start, you said. A new beginning.

The shadows lashed violently beneath his feet.

No.

You didn’t need a new beginning. You didn’t need to run from something that had never been a threat.

You were his.

And nothing—not distance, not fear, not even your own resistance—would ever change that.

So when you opened your eyes one morning and found yourself somewhere unfamiliar, wrapped in warmth that was not your own, Jinwoo was already there.

Waiting. Watching.

Smiling.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice smooth, affectionate. Final.

Because now, finally, he didn’t have to watch from afar anymore.

---

The End

[leniisreallycool]

"MC, where do you keep your hand towels- What the hell?!"

You crane you neck to see which of the brothers needs your attention, but there's just a blur before you hear a worried huff in your ear and feel hands wrapped around your waist dragging you off the chair.

Spluttering in protest, you cradle the light bulb in your fist close to your chest as the demon gently sets you on the floor, well away from the chair you were using as a step stool. "Lucifer! What are you doing?"

"Keeping you from injuring yourself. What were you thinking, climbing on a chair like that? You know how fragile humans are." Lucifer gives you a disapproving frown.

You cross your arms and glare. "I'm not a child, Lucifer. I had a whole life before coming to the Devildom. Or did you forget?"

The way he huffs irritably tells you that yes, he did forget, and no, he does not like it. "Be that as it may, what do you think would happen if you lost your balance?"

"I'm not going to lose my balance. And if I did, I wouldn't die from just that." You spin on your heel and easily step back up onto the chair defiantly.

"Allow me," Lucifer begins, but you cut him off.

"Lucifer, just stop and let me take care of it."

His eyes and yours briefly glow blue as the pact magic activates.

You carefully unscrew the old lightbulb, deliberately ignoring how Lucifer's worried glare makes the hair on the back of your heck stand on end.

***

"Mammon, where did you put my keys?" you ask, arms crossed, tapping your foot impatiently. Satan and Belphie are absolutely going to bully you for acting like Lucifer, but right now you don't care.

Mammon blanches comically quickly. "Pffshh, what makes you think I took 'em? It coulda been anyone! Maybe Beel ate them!"

You don't even bother glancing over at his younger brother to know he had stopped munching his snacks to send Mammon a death glare.

"Mhmm. I totally believe that Beel ate them when it was you who was so concerned when you found out I could drive." Yeesh. Maybe you shouldn't spend so much time around Lucifer if you're picking up on so many of his mannerisms.

"I mean-" He stops at the sight of your genuine irritation. He dangles the keys from his fingers and laughs awkwardly. "Haha, how did these get here? Ha, it definitely wasn't me, I just found them here just now! No theft involved, no sir, not here, hehe."

You playfully roll you eyes at his goofy facade. "Thank you so much for your contribution."

I'm obsessed with the idea of the demon brothers getting confused or even shocked whenever MC does something that remotely reminds them that they are, indeed, a functional adult person.

It can be anything at all, solving an engineering degree algebra problem, changing a flat tire, driving a bus idk, doing taxes, building a chair...

I just know Lucifer's level of anxiety would skyrocket if he caught MC replacing a burned out bulb by themself

[moxnshxne]

You told me yesterday I'm full of surprises. So here is another!

Good morning babe and have a great start into monday please. May you check your lunchbox at your lunch break? There is a little yummy something packed in today.

I love you and eat well!

You know baby, if I hadn't received any news from you on Monday, that would be a sad surprise. But by now, I kind of expect for you to cutely appear for me and prepare me a little something.

Thank you for the lunch box as always. It's delicious and lovely as always.

[demaparbat-hp]

In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?

Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.

Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.

But she isn't alone.

And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.

When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.

Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.

[erabu-san]

Working hard !