#But yeah I was throwing up like all night

[prlssprfctn]

AU, where Bruce accidentally gets de-aged (physically and mentally), and the first person he bumps in is... Red Hood.

To Jason's defence, he didn't connect the dots at first. He was just patrolling around his usual turf, thinking of nothing in particular, when he saw a small child in a ridiculously serious suit, sulking around Crime Alley. He looks distraught, and considering that he looks rich, it is no surprise - that is not a place for him. So, he is either lost or something happened, right?

He takes the helmet off, as he usually does when he is dealing with kids (they got scared easily) and carefully approaches a brooding baby.

'Hey, shrimp. Where are your parents at?'

That said shrimp turns around, his big blue eyes looking confused and lost, and Jason thinks he looks awfully familiar.

'I am not shrimp,' he protests instantly, pouting at him. 'And they are somewhere... here. We just left the movie theatre together!'

Jason glances at the abandoned movie theatre, back at the little rich boy with a familiar frown, and it clicks. This is his fucking dad. Suddenly, a kid - but it is fucking Bruce Wayne, for sure.

'Was watching Zorro by any chance?' Jason still asks, just to be sure that he is not going insane.

Bruce - and it must be him - beams at him.

'Yes! This is a great movie, by the way.'

Oh, hell. At least, he didn't witness his parents' death just yet. Jason wasn't sure he would be able to deal with his father being so small, and mourning his mom and dad. He would probably cry himself at some point.

'Hey,' Jason calls out for him slowly, squatting down; God, who would've thought that this little shrimp would become so tall and big in the future. 'Aren't you... You must be Thomas's kid, right?'

Okay, yeah, Jason is going to lie to this kid. Because there is no way he manages just to steal Bruce as a stranger to bring him back home; it is still a kid, even if it is his father. Right?

'You know my dad?' Bruce tilts his head, little fingers tugging on the hem of his jacket; suspicious.

'You could say that,' Jason nods. 'Alfie... I mean, Alfred called me. Asked me to pick up a kid, since Thomas and Martha got an urgent call.'

Fuck his life and stupid life choices. What the hell he was even doing? He looked like a mugger; or like a psycho. But Alfred was his best bet - he could call him, after all; ask, well, support his idiotic made-up story.

'No one calls Alfred Alfie but my dad,' Bruce pouts in a very, very spoiled manner.

'Well... I do. We served together in the army,' he blurts out.

His armour, apparently, is enough a proof for the kid to nod slowly.

'Okay. But you gotta take off your strange mask first,' Bruce folds arms on his chest.

...???

Did this kid just agree for an unknown man to take him home? Like this? Who could've thought that this pouty child would become the most paranoid man alive in the future?

'Uh, why?'

'So I can remember your face and do an identikit, if you turn out to be a bad guy,' Bruce smirks stupidly. 'Duh.'

Jason is going to cry. This kid is so cute.

'Yeah, duh,' Jason huffs, but despite his better judgment takes the domino mask off as well. 'Go on, take your time. My identikit should be the prettiest, shrimp.'

Bruce... gawks at him. His eyes are comically wide now, mouth open, and then, he jumps a little closer to him - oh, God, he is jumping when excited? - putting his hellishly cold hands on Jason's cheeks.

'Woah. You look like dad.'

'Uh,' Jason nods awkwardly, and because he is an idiot, adds a joke: 'We are brothers, actually. Just don't talk much.'

...Apparently, little Bruce can't take jokes. Because he lets out an adorable gasp, and throws himself on Jason as if they knew each other for ages now.

'Uncle? That's so cool. You look like Zorro!'

Damn this little kid, and this stupid family. Damn Joe Chill and the night he killed this kid's parents. Damn it all. Bruce might be an asshole sometimes, but he was so... cute and innocent.

'Thanks, shrimp,' Jason slides a domino mask back on, picks up little Bruce with one arm, and grips a helmet with another. 'Come on, let's go home. Alfred will make your favourite tiramisu.'

'You know my favourites?!'

Jason sniffles.

'Yeah. Yeah, I do, kid.'

If he gets so emotional over this kid, he has no idea how worse Dick is going to be once he finds out.

Oh, this is going to be one hell of a night.

[isaadore]

AS SURE AS THE SKY IS BLUE LUKE HUGHES

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing luke hughes x reader

SUMMARY luke has never been more certain about anything in his life. he wants to marry you, and he wants to do it now. never mind that he’s only 21 or that everyone around him keeps asking if he’s sure. he’s sure. he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. word count 0.8k

warnings fluff, mentions of marriage

note requested 🤍

LH43 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

LUKE HAD ALWAYS been impatient when it came to things he wanted. His NHL debut? He had been counting down the days since he was a kid. Living on his own? He was practically throwing his bags into his new apartment before his mom could make him a goodbye breakfast. But this was different. This wasn’t just something he wanted. It was something he knew.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he had said one night, voice muffled against your shoulder as he lay on top of you on the couch. It was the off-season, and he had spent nearly every day like this, clinging to you like you were his lifeline, soaking up every second before he had to go back to New Jersey.

You had laughed, fingers softly threading through his hair. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He lifted his head, resting his chin on your chest so he could look at you properly. His eyes were unwavering. “I’m serious.”

Your heart had stuttered at the way he said it. Not like a question, not like a possibility. He had said it like a fact.

“Luke,” you had started. He was 21, and you were barely older. People your age didn’t just get married.

He shut you up with a kiss. “I know what you’re gonna say,” he mumbled, lips brushing against yours. “And I don’t care. I love you. I want to marry you. Why should we wait?”

You hadn’t had an answer for that. You still didn’t.

The engagement wasn’t a huge, elaborate ordeal. No viral-worthy flash mobs or expensive candlelit dinners. Just the two of you, standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment, his hands slightly clammy as he pulled out a ring and said, “Marry me?” like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And because it was Luke, and because you loved him, and because why should we wait? you had said yes.

Which led to now. Sitting in a booth at a restaurant, a dinner meant to celebrate the engagement turned into an intervention.

“You’re sure about this?” Jack asked, arms crossed over his chest. It was the third time he had asked.

“Yes.” Luke shot him a glare before looking around the table. His parents, his brothers, his teammates. All of them were looking at him like he had just announced he was dropping hockey to become a circus performer.

“It’s just…” Quinn paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “You’re young, Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “So?”

“So most people don’t get married at 21,” Jack cut in, throwing his hands up.

“Well, I’m not most people,” Luke shot back.

Beside him, you squeezed his hand under the table. You had expected this. Luke had, too. His family was supportive, but they were also realists. And realists didn’t get engaged at 21.

Ellen sighed. “Sweetheart, we’re not saying you shouldn’t marry her.” She gave you a warm, reassuring smile before turning back to her son. “We just want to make sure you’re thinking this through.”

“I have thought this through,” Luke said, exasperated. “For months.”

“Months,” Jack repeated like it was a ridiculous amount of time.

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Guys. Look at me.” He gestured to himself. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

Jack opened his mouth. “Do not answer that,” Luke warned before he could say anything.

A chuckle passed around the table, but the concern was still there, lingering in the air.

“Luke,” Jim finally spoke, calm and measured, like he was trying to keep the peace. “Marriage isn’t something you rush into.”

Luke softened, taking a breath before responding. “I know that,” he said. “But I also know that I love her. And I don’t want to wait years just because people think that’s what we’re supposed to do.”

He turned to you then, eyes searching yours, needing you to back him up.

You squeezed his hand again and smiled. “I know it seems fast. But we love each other, and we’re happy. That’s what matters, right?”

Ellen exhaled, smiling softly. “It is what matters.”

Jack still looked skeptical, but he leaned back in his seat, conceding. “Alright. Fine. But if you ever need an out, just say the word.”

Luke rolled his eyes but grinned. “Not happening.”

And just like that, the tension eased. His parents let it go, Jack stopped grilling him, and the dinner turned into what it was supposed to be: a celebration.

Later, as you walked hand in hand toward the car, Luke tugged you closer. “You still sure about this?” he teased, bumping his nose against yours.

You grinned. “As sure as the sky is blue.”

Luke beamed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I can’t wait to marry you.”

Neither could you.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ LH43 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

[inseobts]

Love is a Disease?!

luffy x fem!reader

luffy keeps dreaming about you and ask chopper to cure him...

words count: 2.7k

tags: fluffy, sfw, soft, humour

masterlist || ko-fi

Luffy jolts awake, staring at the wooden ceiling of the Sunny’s sleeping quarters. His heart is pounding, his face is warm, and his lips are still curled into a goofy grin.

It happened again.

Another dream about you.

This time, you were sitting beside him on the deck, your laughter ringing in his ears. You looked happy, so happy that he could feel it deep in his chest, like sunlight spreading through his whole body. And then, right before he woke up, you had leaned in just a little too close, your breath tickling his cheek.

Luffy groans, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow “What the hell is this?” he mutters.

It’s been happening for days. No, weeks. Every single time he sleeps, you’re there. Sometimes you’re just talking with him, sometimes you’re laughing, sometimes you’re standing too close and making him feel… weird. A good kind of weird, but also a confusing one.

He sits up abruptly, gripping his hat “This ain’t normal” he decides.

Something must be wrong with him.

Luffy storms into Chopper’s office, his arms swinging wildly “Chopper! Fix me!”

The little reindeer jumps, nearly knocking over a stack of medical books “What?! What happened? Are you sick?!”

“I think so!” Luffy exclaims, flopping onto the examination table like a dying man.

Chopper gasps, immediately switching into doctor mode “Where does it hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Are you gonna die?!” He starts pressing his hooves against Luffy’s forehead, checking for a fever.

Luffy grumbles “It’s not like that… It’s weirder.”

Chopper frowns “What do you mean ‘weirder’?”

Luffy hesitates. He doesn’t really want to explain it, saying it out loud just makes it sound dumb.

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “Luffy, I can’t treat you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

Luffy groans, throwing his arms over his face “Fine! It’s my dreams!”

Chopper blinks “Your dreams?”

“Yeah!” Luffy groans again, louder this time, like he’s in pain “Every time I sleep, I dream about Y/N!”

Chopper tilts his head “…And?”

Luffy lifts his arms just enough to peek at Chopper “What do you mean ‘and’?! That’s gotta be some kind of sickness, right?!”

Chopper strokes his chin, thinking hard “Hmmm… are they scary dreams?”

“No.”

“Are they nightmares?”

“No! They’re nice!”

Chopper blinks again “…Then what’s the problem?”

Luffy sits up, frustrated “The problem is that I keep dreaming about her! Every single time I close my eyes!” He grabs Chopper’s shoulders and shakes him “Chopper, what if I caught a disease that makes me think about her all the time?!”

Chopper wiggles out of Luffy’s grasp, landing on the floor with a small thud “I’ve never heard of that before…” He rushes over to his bookshelves and starts flipping through pages. Luffy watches him, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.

After a few minutes, Chopper sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “There’s nothing here about dreaming about someone too much.”

Luffy groans, tired “Then what do I do?!”

Chopper scratches his head “Uhh… maybe you should avoid y/n for a while? Just in case...”

Luffy gasps “In case of what? What?! That’s not a cure!”

Chopper huffs “Well, I don’t know what else to do! But if seeing her all the time in your dreams is making you feel weird, maybe staying away will help! If you don't see her maybe you won't dream abour her...”

Luffy pouts “That sounds stupid.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Luffy doesn’t.

So he groans again, dramatically flopping back onto the table “Fine… I’ll try.”

That night, as he stares at the ceiling of his hammock, he tells himself that avoiding you will be easy.

Spoiler: It won’t be.

The next morning, Luffy’s grand plan begins.

Step one: Avoid y/n.

Simple, right? He just has to stay out of your way. No sitting next to you at meals, no talking to you, and definitely no falling asleep near you. Easy...

Or so he thinks.

“Luffy! Come help me carry these crates!” your voice calls from the deck.

His whole body freezes. You’re standing there, waving him over with a bright smile. Normally, he’d rush to help, no hesitation. But today? Today, he’s a man with a mission.

“Uh… I can’t!” he blurts out, spinning on his heel.

You blink “What? Why not?”

Luffy panics. He didn’t think this far ahead. He blurts out the first excuse that pops into his head.

“Because… um… I forgot how to carry things!”

Silence.

You stare at him, eyebrows raised “…You forgot... how to carry things?...”

“Yup!” He gives you a thumbs-up and then bolts in the opposite direction before you can question him further.

You watch him go, utterly confused “What the hell was that?”

Avoiding you turns out to be way harder than Luffy thought. You’re everywhere. Laughing with Nami, training with Zoro, helping Sanji in the kitchen. No matter where he goes, there’s a chance of running into you.

And Chopper, being the loyal doctor he is, decides to follow his advice too.

Which means he’s avoiding you too.

And both of them? They are horrible at it.

Every time you walk into a room, Luffy suddenly has “something important to do” and dashes off like his life depends on it. If you try to talk to Chopper, he lets out a nervous squeak and scurries away like a scared animal.

After a few days of this, you’ve had enough.

“Usopp” you huff, plopping down beside him “Something weird is going on with Luffy and Chopper.”

Usopp looks up from the gadget he’s working on “Weird how?”

“They keep avoiding me” You frown, crossing your arms “Luffy runs away every time I talk to him, and Chopper acts like I have the plague. Did I do something?”

Usopp snorts “Nah, if you did something, Luffy would just spill it. He’s a terrible liar.”

“That’s what makes it weird!” you groan “He totally avoids talking to me. He’s never acted like this before. Same goes for Chopper...”

Then you see Chopper, Luffy and Nami going out the kitchen and you norrow your eyes pointing them to Usopp "Look, they are there chatting normally. Now call them over here"

Usopp looks at you confused but interested, "HEY LUFFY, CHOPPER, I NEED YOU OVER HERE!! LOOK AT THIS" he yells showing them the thing he was working on until now.

The two look at him and their faces turn so excited to know about Usopp's new invention. This until they see you next to Usopp, then they both look scared...

"Oh sorry, I forgot I had something very important to do!!" Luffy says with a fake smile before running away.

Chopper looks at him and starts running behind him "LUFFY WAIT FOR ME!!"

In all this Nami shrugs in confusion and walks away.

Usopp turns back to you and taps his chin “Hmm… They’re hiding totally something, but what could it be?”

Your eyes narrow “We need to find out before I get crazy”

And just like that, a plan is born.

Later that day, Usopp corners Chopper in the infirmary.

“Oi, Chopper” he says casually, leaning against the wall. “What’s up with you and Luffy?”

Chopper nearly jumps out of his fur “W-What do you mean? Nothing’s up! Nothing at all!”

Usopp smirks. Terrible liar.

“Oh, really?” he presses “Because y/n thinks you guys are acting weird. And I agree.”

Chopper sweats “I-It’s not weird! We’re just… uh… busy!”

“Busy avoiding y/n?”

The poor reindeer lets out a strangled noise “N-No! We’re just—!”

He stops himself too late.

Usopp grins like a predator catching its prey “Ah-ha! So you are avoiding her.”

Chopper claps his hooves over his mouth “I-I didn’t say that!”

“But you did.” Usopp leans in “And now I gotta know why.”

Chopper squirms “I… I promised Luffy I wouldn’t say…”

“Ohh, so it’s Luffy’s problem?” Usopp’s grin gets wider “Now I really need to know.”

Chopper shakes his head rapidly “No! I-I can’t tell you! A doctor-patient relationship is built on trust!”

Usopp sighs dramatically “That’s too bad. Guess I’ll just tell y/n that you both hate her now.”

“WHAT?! No, we don’t hate her!” Chopper wails.

“Then why are you acting like she’s a ghost haunting the ship?”

Chopper hesitates. His little hooves tremble “I-It’s because… because…”

“…Because what?”

Chopper takes a deep breath. Then, in a panicked rush, he blurts—

“Luffy keeps dreaming about Y/N and thinks it’s a disease!”

Silence.

Usopp blinks “Wait. What?”

Chopper slaps his hooves over his mouth again.

“I SAID NOTHING!”

But it’s too late. Usopp already looks like he’s won the biggest jackpot in the world.

“Oh...” Usopp grins “Ohhhhhh, this is golden.”

Chopper gulps “P-Please don’t tell Luffy I told you—”

“Don’t worry,” Usopp says, slinging an arm around Chopper “I won’t tell him.”

Chopper sighs in relief.

“I’ll just fix the problem instead.”

And that’s way worse.

Usopp wastes no time.

He finds you on the deck, casually leaning against the railing, staring at the ocean with a frustrated pout. Clearly, you’re still confused about Luffy’s behavior.

“Y/N!” Usopp calls, throwing an arm around your shoulder like he’s about to tell you the best gossip of the century “Guess what?”

You raise an eyebrow “What?”

He smirks “Luffy’s been acting weird because of you.”

Your eyes widen “Because of me?”

“Yup.” Usopp leans in dramatically “Turns out, our beloved captain has been having dreams about you. Every time he sleeps.”

You blink “What kind of dreams?”

Usopp wiggles his eyebrows “You tell me.”

You roll your eyes “If this is another one of your dumb stories—”

“It’s not a story!” Usopp says, holding up his hands “Chopper accidentally spilled everything to me. Luffy came to him all panicked, thinking he had some weird ‘dream disease’ just because he keeps dreaming about you.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing. Then, realization hits.

“…Wait.” Your heart skips a beat “You mean—?”

“Yes bestie,” Usopp confirms, nodding smugly “Our dear, dumb captain is in love.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Luffy? In love with you?

You suddenly recall every weird interaction over the past few days. The way he’s been avoiding you, the way he stumbled over his words, the way he ran away from you yesterday. It all makes sense now.

You bite your lip, trying to contain the sudden warmth rushing to your face “So what do we do about it?”

Usopp grins mischievously “Oh, I have a plan already. Thank god I’m your best friend”

Later that evening, Luffy is minding his own business, stuffing his face at the dinner table, when Usopp slides into the seat beside him.

“Oi, Luffy,” he says casually, resting his chin on his hand “You free after dinner?”

Luffy, mouth full of food, nods “Mhm. Why?”

Usopp grins “No reason. Just wanna show you something.”

Luffy shrugs, too busy enjoying Sanji’s cooking to question it.

Big mistake.

Because the second he follows Usopp outside, he realizes something is off.

“Hey, where are we going?” Luffy asks, tilting his head.

“Just trust me,” Usopp says, leading him toward the front of the ship “It’s something cool.”

Luffy doesn’t think much of it—until he turns the corner and sees you standing there, arms crossed, waiting for him.

His entire body freezes.

Usopp immediately bolts in the opposite direction.

“W-Wait—!” Luffy starts to call after him, but the sniper is already gone.

The trap has been set.

And now, he’s alone with you.

Luffy swallows hard. He should run. He should stick to his original plan of avoiding you. But his legs refuse to move.

You step closer, eyeing him suspiciously “Luffy.”

He forces a grin “H-Hey, y/n!”

“Are you avoiding me?” you ask, cutting straight to the point.

His grin falters “W-What? No! Of course not! Why would I—?”

You raise an eyebrow “Usopp told me everything.”

Luffy panics.

“W-What? Pfft! No, he didn’t! He doesn’t even know anything!” Luffy waves his arms dramatically, laughing nervously “That Usopp, always making up stories! Haha! I don’t even dream! What even is a dream? I don’t—”

“Luffy.”

He shuts up instantly.

You sigh “You know you suck at lying, just tell me the truth.”

Luffy rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze “I, uh…”

You wait.

Luffy shifts uncomfortably. His heart is pounding, and he’s sweating bullets. Lying is so hard.

“…Okay, fine,” he finally mutters “I’ve been dreaming about you.”

You blink, surprised at his sudden honesty “…Every time you sleep?”

He nods.

You step closer “And it made you think something was wrong with you?”

Another nod.

You stare at him for a moment before breaking into a soft laugh. “Luffy… that’s not a disease.”

He pouts “It’s not?”

You shake your head, smiling “No, dumbass. It just means you like me.”

Luffy blinks “Like… like like?”

You roll your eyes “Yes, Luffy. Like like.”

For a moment, he just stands there, staring at you. Processing.

Then, realization hits him like a Sea King.

“…OHHH.”

You burst out laughing.

Luffy stares at you, completely dumbfounded “Wait, wait, wait—so I’m not sick?”

“Nope.”

“I’m just—” He points at himself “—in love”

You nod.

Luffy blinks. Then, suddenly, he grins.

“Huh. That’s kinda cool.”

You snort “That’s all you have to say?”

He tilts his head “Well, yeah. I mean… I like you. And you’re right here. So that’s good, right?”

Your cheeks warm “Yeah,” you admit softly “That’s good.”

Luffy beams. Then, without warning, he grabs your hand.

“Then let’s go tell the others!” he says cheerfully, already dragging you toward the dining area.

“Wait—what?”

“I gotta tell Chopper I’m not dying!”

You groan, but you can’t help smiling as Luffy excitedly pulls you along, already shouting for the crew.

Usopp, watching from a distance, smirks.

“Mission accomplished.”

Luffy bursts into the dining area with you in tow, grinning like he just found the biggest treasure in the world.

“Oi, everyone! Guess what? I’m not dying!”

The entire crew freezes.

Zoro, who was mid-sip of his sake, lowers his cup “Huh?”

Sanji looks up from the stove, cigarette dangling from his lips “I didn’t even know you thought you were dying.”

Robin chuckles, setting down her book “I assume this has something to do with y/n?”

Chopper, who had been sitting on the table, gasps in relief “You aren’t sick?! Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried—I thought maybe I misdiagnosed a new kind of illness!”

Luffy laughs, slapping a hand on Chopper’s hat “Nope! Turns out, I just like y/n!”

Silence.

Then—

“FINALLY!”

Usopp throws his hands in the air “I swear, if I had to watch you two dance around each other for another week, I was gonna lose my mind.”

Nami sighs, shaking her head “So that’s what all the weird behavior was about.” She smirks at you. “And? How do you feel about all this?”

You clear your throat, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Your hand is still in Luffy’s, warm and firm, like he has no intention of letting go.

“I, um… I like him too, I've been obvious about it, he's the only one who was oblivous, am I wrong?” you admit.

The crew erupts.

Sanji dramatically clutches his chest “Nooooo! My sweet Y/N has been stolen by him?! Life is so cruel!”

Zoro snorts “Tch. Took you long enough, rubber idiot.”

Franky wipes a fake tear “Young love is so super!”

Brook laughs “Ah, my heart is about to explode by all this cuteness—oh wait, I don’t have a heart! Yohohoho!”

Luffy grins even wider, turning to Chopper “See? I told you it was something weird!”

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “You literally thought you had a disease.”

“Yeah! And now I don’t!” Luffy lifts your hand triumphantly “Now me and Y/N are together, so it’s all good!”

Your face heats up “I don’t remember agreeing to that part.”

Luffy tilts his head “Huh? But you like me, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then we’re together!” he declares proudly, as if that’s how relationships work.

The crew laughs, and you groan, hiding your face in your free hand “I should’ve known dating Luffy would be exactly like this.”

Luffy just beams, completely unbothered “Dating sounds fun! Let’s do that!”

And honestly? Looking at his bright, happy face, you can’t even be mad.

[rebelfell]

Sooo this started out being all cute and fluffy but veered over the edge into the flangst canyon…my bad. 💌 1.8k

Thinking about bestfriend!eddie who shows up your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.

Unintentionally, of course.

It was never something he planned to do. 

He just happened to be in CVS the night before, blazed out of his mind and wandering aimlessly while the guys argued about what snacks to get. And when he made the mistake of turning onto the designated holiday aisle, he was met with a barrage of pink and red glitter and sparkles and hearts exploding off every shelf—an absolute affrontal assault to his cynical sensibilities. 

But then he picks up this one card that catches his eye. It’s got a watercolor painting of this cute little porcupine who’s holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and there’s a speech bubble at the top that says “I Porcu-PINE for you!”

Eddie absolutely loses it.

He stands there making these stuttering giggling sounds and they’re coming out way louder than he intended, and the pimply and dead-eyed clerk behind the register leans over to give the laziest evil eye Eddie has ever seen. He does his best to stifle himself, but more little snickers still eke out as he picks up the envelope that goes with the card, and starts scanning the shelves for the Valentine’s variation of your favorite candy.

(Because it would be weird just to do the card, right? If he throws in some other stuff too, maybe it’ll be less conspicuous. Yeah? That makes sense, doesn’t it? Yeah, totally it does.)

Before he knows it, he’s collected a whole armload of crap. Two bags of the candies (they’re 2 for $5, that just makes good business sense), a little plushie with giant sparkly eyes (its stare is hypnotizing in an odd way, it kind of reminds him of you), and a small (tiny, honestly) bouquet of daisies wrapped in crinkly cellophane (he knows you like those way more than you like roses.)

He puts it all down on the counter and gets another withering glare from the cashier after he’s rung it all up. Eddie wonders if this guy is judging him; thinks he’s some lazy, loser boyfriend buying a bunch of junk gifts at the last possible minute. But Eddie doesn’t have the mental capability at the moment to explain that he’s not even buying these for a girlfriend—they’re all for his best friend, who he sometimes, occasionally, has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about, which yeah, is kind of inconvenient in a lot of ways, but it’s cool, he’s fine with that—

There’s another huff from the cashier as he repeats the total due, and Eddie realizes this guy doesn’t give a shit that Eddie might be a crappy boyfriend, he’s much more annoyed by the fact that he has yet to take out his wallet. And as he scrambles to do so, the rest of Corroded Coffin comes up to the front, still loudly arguing about the snacks they’re carrying in their hands.

They all give Eddie a funny look when they see what he’s getting, Grant being the first to bluntly ask who it’s for. They fall silent, exchanging wary glances when Eddie mumbles your name under his breath as he hands over a creased and wrinkled bill to pay at long last.

“That’s super weird, man, don’t do that,” Jeff argues immediately. “Just give it to Gareth, and he can give it to Annie instead. Problem solved.”

“Excuse me,” Gareth snaps, “but I’ve gotten my girl her gifts and they’re a hell of a lot better than this crap. Er, uhh…no offense.”

Their drummer winces, and his eyes dart guiltily between Eddie and his purchases.

“No—” Eddie’s face scrunches and he shakes his head defiantly. “They’re not, like, serious gifts. It doesn’t mean anything. And she’s dating that rich asshole, I’m sure he’s gonna bury her in expensive shit. This is barely gonna land on her radar,” he insists, now clutching his bag in his fist.

“So then why bother?” Jeff asks, widening his annoyingly perceptive eyes under arched brows. 

But Eddie doesn’t respond. He just stomps out to the parking lot and waits by the car. All the while thinking about all the things he can never quite manage to say out loud when it comes to you.

The next day, Eddie’s rethinking everything.

Sober now and staring down at the offerings piled up in the van’s passenger seat, he can’t help but think this might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. And that’s saying something.

He talks himself in and out of going through with it about twenty times just in the ten minute drive it takes him to get to your apartment. And even as he climbs the stairs and raises his hand to knock, he has yet to decide if this is a good idea or not.

He came over semi-early, figuring you’d likely be busy later getting ready for some fancy dinner at some restaurant where Eddie probably couldn’t afford to order so much as a glass of water. 

But when you open the door, he can’t help but frown at your appearance. You don’t look like you are getting ready to go out, if anything you look like you’ve retired for the evening before 5pm.

Your face is bare except for a couple spots of zit cream, and you have on an old headband pushing your hair back out of your face. You’re swathed in the kind of baggy, oversized clothes he only sees you in when you’re ass deep in a cold or some other similarly debilitating illness. 

You don’t look sick, though. Just…sad?

How can you be sad on Love’s birthday?

“Hey, uhhh,” he says, forcing a tight smile. His palms start to sweat around the plastic handles he’s clutching behind his back. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you reply.

There’s no sharpness to it, yet it still comes out kind of flat. Like you’re trying not to sound upset. But Eddie doesn’t push it as he follows you to the kitchen, sliding into his usual seat at your bar.

“What’s that?” you ask, eyes falling to the bag he plopped down on top of the counter.

“It’s stupid,” Eddie starts, “just some dumb little things I picked up.” For you, he adds in his head.

A small smile finally breaks the thin line your lips had been set in since he arrived and Eddie’s back broke out in a cold sweat under his leather jacket as he bashfully pushed the bag over to you.

He then watches, choking on his own heart, as you start pulling things out one by one.

You grin at the daisies, bringing them to your nose to sniff even though they probably smell more like weed than flowers after spending all night in the trailer. You squeal over the plushie, holding it up next to your face and squishing it. You hum excitedly at the first bag of candies, and laugh when you pull out a second one.

Then you get to the card.

Your eyes roll, but you can’t help smiling when you see Eddie’s nickname for you scrawled on the front of the envelope in his chicken scratch. And you’re still smiling as you slide your finger under the flap to tear through the bright red casing.

Then you read it, and your smile falls.

Your whole face does, in fact. It starts with a minute tremble of your chin that escalates into your brow pinching and your mouth crumpling into a frown. And you seem to clench every single muscle in your face to stop yourself from crying, but you just can’t keep it from happening.

“Hey, hey, wait, no, no, nooooo—”

Eddie doesn’t think, he doesn’t take a second to consider doing anything differently, he just jumps to his feet and comes around the counter to your side. He puts his arms around you automatically, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cling to him and try to settle yourself.

“I’m so-sorry, I’m s-so sorry, I’m sorry,” you babble, blubbering through the words.

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I swear, I just thought it was cute, I didn’t mean to—”

“It is cute,” you wail as tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s fucking adorable!”

“Okay, then what’s the problem?” Eddie chuckles, pulling back slightly and ducking his head to look you in the eye, trying to get you to smile back.

You sniffle a few more times before you manage to collect yourself and swipe your fingers under your eyes to smear the wetness of your tears across your cheeks. Eddie’s fists clench at his sides to stop them from reaching up to do it again for you when you miss a stray one.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been in such a weird funk all day since Matt, um…”

Your voice wobbled again and Eddie’s expression turned stony, scolding himself inwardly for letting even a tiny bit of excitement rise in his chest at the thought that you might have broken up.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. “I mean, did you guys…are you…”

“No, nothing like that,” you inhaled shakily. “He just…he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day. And it feels so stupid to get upset over it. Like it’s just a dumb holiday, and I don’t need, like, presents or a dinner or flowers or anything like that. I just…”

Your arms crossed, as if you were trying to hug yourself. Eddie wished he could do it for you.

“I don’t know, I thought we’d do something,” you finally add quietly.

“He’s not even coming over?” Eddie scoffs. Suddenly the outfit made more sense. “At all?”

Your eyes closed in a pained wince. “Don’t make me feel worse, please,” you beg him somberly.

“No, I—” Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you. Honest.”

His head dropped guiltily, eyes glued to his sneakers that stood out against the tile in your kitchen. He glanced one last time at all the stupid stuff he bought now strewn across your counter.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you told him firmly. “That was really sweet, Eddie. Seriously, like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Your hand reaches out for the plushie again and you cradle it in your palm as you swoop in to drop a light peck on his cheek. The warmth of it makes Eddie’s whole face hot and he feels his neck tense from how much he wishes he could turn his head to the side and allow for his lips to meet yours. 

But of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

He sure would think about it, though.

Eddie was still staring at his feet, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you for long. He glanced back up to see you pushing through all of the extraneous things you were feeling to give him a smile, small as it was. He nodded and opened his arms, welcoming you back into them.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered into your hair. Too quiet even for you to hear him.

I thought for a while about whether or not this is them, but I think this might be an entirely different set of idiots.

also is it just me or is v-day particularly oppressive this year?

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel it - Part 1

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Series Masterlist Here

Summary- You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

••••••••••••••••••••• •••••••••••••••••••••••

Part 1- The Beginning of a Game

The party at Topper’s house was in full swing. The air was thick with the scent of salt, sweat, and the faint smokiness of a bonfire burning somewhere in the distance. Music pulsed through the backyard, blending with the sound of drunken laughter and the occasional splash from someone jumping into the pool. It was one of those nights that felt endless, where the heat of the summer clung to your skin and time blurred between drinks and conversations.

And yet, despite the crowd, despite the energy, you felt frozen in place.

Your stomach twisted as your eyes locked onto the scene in front of you. Alex. With someone new.

He sat on the outdoor couch, drink in hand, his head tipped back in laughter at something the girl beside him had said. She was pretty—of course she was. Long sun-kissed legs, a perfectly put-together outfit that screamed effortless, and a confidence that made it obvious she had no doubts about where she stood with him. Unlike you. Unlike the way you had felt when you were with him—always wondering if you were reading too much into things, if his sweet words meant something more, if the way he looked at you held the same depth as the way you looked at him.

Turns out, it hadn’t.

Because when you’d finally worked up the courage to ask where you stood, to ask if he wanted more, Alex had fed you the same tired line you’d heard before: I’m not ready for a relationship.

And yet, here he was. Looking very ready.

Your grip tightened around the plastic cup in your hand, the cheap liquor inside suddenly making your stomach churn. It wasn’t that you wanted him back—you didn’t. But seeing him move on so easily, so carelessly, like what you had meant nothing… it stung. Worse than you wanted to admit.

You tore your gaze away, exhaling sharply, forcing yourself to shake it off. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to you. You were better than that.

“You look like you’re about two seconds away from throwing that drink at someone’s head.”

The familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to find Rafe Cameron standing beside you, his usual cocky smirk in place. He was nursing a beer, looking effortlessly relaxed in a white button-down left undone just enough to hint at a tan and toned chest. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times, and his blue eyes flickered with amusement as he studied you.

You rolled your eyes, attempting to play it off. “Just enjoying the party.”

“Yeah?” Rafe took a sip of his beer, raising an eyebrow. “Because you look like you’re mentally plotting someone’s downfall.”

You scoffed. “If I was, you’d be the first to know.”

“Good to know,” he mused, tilting his head as he followed your previous line of sight. It didn’t take him long to spot Alex, and when he did, something in his expression shifted—just a flicker of understanding before the smirk returned. “Ah. Got it.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “There’s nothing to get.”

“Sure.” Rafe dragged the word out, clearly not buying it.

You huffed, looking away. The last thing you wanted was to talk about Alex with Rafe Cameron, of all people. You and Rafe had always been… something between friends and playful antagonists. He was cocky, irritating, and had a habit of pushing your buttons just to see how far he could go. But he was also fun. Easy to talk to when he wanted to be. And right now, his presence was a distraction you desperately needed.

But before you could steer the conversation elsewhere, an all-too-familiar voice cut through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

“Raaaafe!”

You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

Amelia.

The girl had been attached to Rafe like a leech ever since they’d hooked up at a party months ago. And despite Rafe making it clear he wasn’t interested in anything more, Amelia refused to take the hint. She always found a way to be near him, touching his arm, laughing too loudly at his jokes, batting her lashes in a way that might have been charming if it weren’t so painfully desperate.

Sure enough, when you glanced over, Amelia was already making her way toward Rafe, her blonde curls bouncing, her expression expectant.

Rafe let out a quiet groan, running a hand over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You smirked. “Looks like she found you.”

“She always does.” He glanced at you then, something calculating flashing in his gaze. And just like that, an idea struck. A terrible, impulsive, reckless idea.

“Want some help?” you asked casually, swirling the liquid in your cup.

Rafe gave you a wary look. “Help how?”

You turned toward him fully, standing just a little closer. Close enough that if someone were looking—if Amelia were looking—it would seem like something was going on between you two.

“Play along,” you murmured just as Amelia reached you both.

You didn’t give him time to question it. Instead, you turned to face him, resting a hand on his chest like it was second nature. “Ye babe,” you said, voice just loud enough for Amelia to hear. “I definitely think we should go on that trip.”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard for only a second before he caught on. A slow smirk spread across his lips. “Sure baby,” he drawled, slipping an arm around your waist. “Just you and me.”

You barely had time to process the way his hand rested against the small of your back before Amelia’s face twisted into shock. “Wait… you two are—?”

“Together?” Rafe finished, pulling you even closer. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

You bit back a grin as Amelia’s eyes darted between the two of you, disbelief and irritation warring in her expression. It was almost too easy.

“Oh,” she said after a moment, clearly struggling to process. “I just… I didn’t realize. You never said anything.”

Rafe shrugged. “Didn’t think I needed to.”

You leaned into him slightly, playing with the fabric of his shirt. “We’ve been keeping things low-key,” you added smoothly. “But, you know, kind of hard now that everyone’s starting to notice.”

Amelia looked like she had just bitten into something sour. “Right. Well… I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, sounding almost bored now. “Anyway, we were kind of in the middle of something, so…”

Amelia hesitated, looking like she wanted to argue, but for once, she seemed to realize there was no point. With a forced smile, she nodded. “Of course. I’ll… see you later.”

The second she walked away, you exhaled, stepping back slightly. “Well. That was fun.”

Rafe chuckled, dropping his arm from your waist but not moving far. “Not bad, princess. You almost had me convinced.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny the small thrill running through you. Maybe it was just the game of it, the ease in which you’d both fallen into the act. Or maybe it was the way you had caught sight of Alex from across the party—his jaw clenched, his eyes burning into the back of Rafe’s head.

Interesting.

“Maybe we should keep this up,” you mused, glancing at Rafe. “You get Amelia off your back, and… well, let’s just say Alex didn’t look too happy just now.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering. Then, slowly, he grinned.

“Let the games begin, then.”

——————————

Let me know what you think! Are you ready for part 2?

[kamospeach]

told you i like gentle giants so you softened up .ᐟ

plot: ceo!sukuna and the woman he was forced to marry finally learning to get along.

content warning: none at all. it's not 18+ but if i make a fic it will be.

peachy's yap: i wanna make this into a fic but im not 100% sure yet, lmk ! no smut just a small fluff to test out the waters. one last one shot coming until i go on a lil break.

this wasn't what you wanted at all. ever since you were a little girl you planned to get married to a caring man. years later give birth to a love child hold he or she in your arms as you and your loving husband smiled at one another.

that dream was gone now and here you were a year after your wedding. terrified to even knock on the door of his study knowing his temper was off the wall at the moment. when you were cooped up in your hobby room you could hear him barking orders. while you sat in silence writing novel after novel he forbade you to publish.

this was your everyday, wake up alone, eat alone, write alone, shower alone, watch movies alone, and even go to sleep alone. he was in his study night and day until his hefty body slipped into your shared bed waking you at 2am. he didn't bother to apologize he just turned away going to sleep himself. and yet you found yourself wanting to be close to sukuna.

you sighed already knowing the conversation you both were bound to have today... just like every month for the last year. you were given to him for your writing and negotiating skills. his father the previous boss offered to pay your father millions to suspend the contract at your job for you to work for them. all for money. you raised your hand knocing on the wretched door.

you and sukuna moved into this house 6 months ago and it felt like you'd been locked away in a tower. although sukuna never listened to your ideas or let you have your way about anything he left the house details to you. he stood back as you worked with the sketchy architect who purposely looked down your blouse (his words).

he let you pick out the number of rooms, and bathrooms. the ceiling height, the shape of the pool, even how many patio chairs you wanted. he let you decorate the house pick the colors, even would let you throw splashes of pink and purple where ever you pleased. but you never did it, you didn't want to do it if not with sukuna.

but to sukuna none of this mattered because his work was more important. in his words he said 'i'll let you deal with less important matters. at least im positive you won't fuck that up.' did that statement hurt? hell yeah but even then you still wanted to be close to him.

"s...sukuna?" you stuttered waiting to hear his gruff voice.

"get in here." he said sternly and you pushed the heavy doors open, struggling at the weight. once you pushed in you stood by the door hands behind your back fingers laced. "sit." he said pointing to the chair in front of his desk and you scurry not wanting to anger him.

"i'm sorry i didn't come sooner i was writing and i had a idea i couldn't lose." you plead his eyes never left yours. he face expression neither annoyed nor pleased.

"why must you continue writing, when you have a duty to fulfill here." he grumbled and you looked down at your thumbs.

"sukuna you wont let me go with you to negotiate that's all m'good for." you say and he scoffs at your excuse.

"you are here to write contracts and negotiate deals you have not done any of that over the last year!" he said his voice raising, by no means were you a push over. scared of this big, brolic, hunk definitely but one thing you'll never be is a punk.

"you have yet to assign me any work. i know what you'll say 'you should come ask me if there's anything to do' but you are my boss. you instruct i follow, i refuse to do anything for you if you can not request it on your own." your reply was calm, you didn't want to anger him further.

"i don't want to overwhelm you," he sighs. his strict facade dropping as he handed you papers and you hum. looking down at the papers it was full of stats and numbers that made your head spin. "this is everyday work for me, i need your help but i must figure it out alone."

"the numbers are a bit crazy but it's not much to find a way to make a deal that'll pretty up the numbers." you tell him and he nods.

"how?" he asked and you looked up at him. this was the first time sukuna had asked for your help. you were shocked that he even let you know that he needed help.

"i mean your the statistics man. once you work out the numbers we can talk negotiating." you tell him with a smile hoping the sly compliment of him being good with numbers didn't slip past him. his red eyes looked up at you through his thick lashes. the corner of his lips tugging upwards as if he wanted to smile and couldn't.

this day was the first day you sat next to sukuna behind his desk. your knees touched and even that amount of contact was enough for you. you helped him clean up his desk and he didn't object he just said 'make sure you put them where i tell you'. and you did picking up the papers on his desk and organizing them for him. placing them in different stacks based off who and what they were from.

little did you know sukuna admired your every move. he watched how you walked around his office complaining about how dull it was. how your curls bounced with every step you took. he watched you search up paint colors and decor for his office. not once did this distract him, he either hummed in agreement or disagreement as he worked on the numbers.

even days later the connection between sukuna and you began to grow. he listened to your opinions and even stepped out of his office during the day. he came to your writing room to sit and drink coffee with you at 3am when you felt like you had a good idea. he even showed you the room you called the 'junk room' that was quite literally filled with sukuna's junk. he pulled out an electric guitar bragging about how it was signed by one of the best.

he tells you the name as you face scrunches up in confusion never hearing of this man ever. but even your disinterest in that didn't deter his sheer audacity and gall. he called you a degenerate and said you were a bug under a rock. you replied with 'more like a boulder' as you looked him up and down judgingly.

this comment made sukuna laugh, yes actually laugh. from that day you never held in a joke, letting anything on your mind loose. sometimes sukuna would look at you as if you said the stupidest shit on earth. most times he'd shake his head with an endearing smile but 2 times out of 10 he'd laugh.

day after day the more time you spent with sukuna the more you were pulled out of the depression. you watched movies of families with a smile even thinking about having a child with that demon.

in return sukuna became more comfortable approaching you. initially he was scared to anger you or say something that would hurt your feelings. heading his father's warning 'don't talk to her too much. you know how you are, you'll hurt her feelings.' so he listened avoided starting conversation, leaving the bed before you woke up and coming in after you fell asleep. ate in his office and never ever entered your writing room.

that day you came in and told him he was your boss changed his brain chemistry. his father was wrong, he wouldn't hurt your feelings because you wanted him to act like your boss. you could dish it out and take it. that day was when sukuna thought to himself 'i could really get used to this'.

that's why after a month of the two of finally getting along sukuna instructed you to meet him at the dining table. dining table was a stretch as it only had 2 chairs. as you waited for him assuming it was about work you were shocked for sukuna to slam down your houses floorplan.

"it's about time we made this house into a home don't ya think?" he asked looking at you and you smiled. and the two of you sat there all night you sipping on a shirley temple and he drank whiskey. he promised he'd make you cocktails from now on since you found out he was a bartender for all of 3 months.

you planned and brainstormed until the next morning. you were leaned on the table drool coming out of your mouth. sukuna smiled at how comfortable you had became around him. he lifted you and carried you up the stairs. that was the first day sukuna felt like he was really a husband. that day was when sukuna swore to himself that he would be a husband.

[red-phantom-0]

HELP YOURSELF

summary : in a family filled with intriguing members of their own right , duke has a particular interest in a certain vigilante in the family that everyone seems to overlook . this interest leads to the family to spiral into obsession .

When he was first introduce to the Wayne family , Duke was overwhelmed , everyone was so talented , so special and unique and came from such - complex backgrounds , it was hard to ever find something or anyone dull in the family . Duke had his highs with the family - from patrol , to movie nights every Saturday , food fights on Monday mornings because of course Jason had to rile up Damian but he had his lows - particularly the fact that he was the only sole meta in the family .

Something so minute shouldn't affect him , I mean come on isn't badass that he's in a family that can accomplish so much with sheer willpower without powers ? Though , it hurts every time he sees Conner teach Jon how to use his super strength without hurting himself in the process . He seethes in envy every time he witnesses it because he swears it ensnares him in a painful grasp - reminding him that he's the bystander in this family and that he's the only odd one out.

He shakes away the chill that runs up his spine and returns his focus back to the scene in front of him , a young woman is desperately trying to yank her purse away from some lacky burglar. ' Easy' Duke thinks to himself as he effortlessly swoops down from the rooftop he is perched on and landed on the thug . " Leave this poor woman alone " Duke commands as he pressed his legs onto the burglar's back. The burglar growls and pushes himself off the floor - practically making the woman scream . Duke immediately goes to jump away and reassess the situation when the burglar spins around inhumanely fast mid air to face the vigilante .

Bewilderment and confusion was all Duke felt but regardless he goes to land a sucker punch to the burglar's mask face when suddenly the burglar takes out a bomb from his inner pocket and throws it at the woman behind them. The woman screams as the bomb makes a beeline towards her and Duke wants to scream in frustration at how utterly stupid she's being and the fact that the burglar has outplayed him.

Suddenly , a figure clad in black with red accents jumps in front of the lady and catches the bomb effortlessly and throws it aside like it was nothing. Duke takes this time to sucker punch the burglar into the floor while he was distracted with the bomb's dentation , causing the man to groan in pain . While Duke is handcuffing the burglar , he eyes the figure in the corner of his eye handing the woman her purse before approaching him.

" Thank you ..... " Duke trails off as he watches the figure properly . He notes that they adorn a black body suit but has a red spider symbol in front near their chest . They adorn black helmet that covers the entirety of their face , only showing the user's dark brown eyes.

"Widow "the figure answers before leaping away from Duke . " Wait ! Who are you , I've never met you before !" exclaims as he extends his hand in attempt to reach out to them . " Just stay safe kid you don't know what you're doing " the figure says , directing a glare at him before they vanish.

That afternoon , Duke returns back to the mansion , he slumps against the kitchen table , the weight of patrolling all day and the situation of meeting a strange entity named ' Widow'. Alfred gently pats him on the back and serves him a plate of snadwhiches.

" I take it that today's patrol was exhausting Master Duke" , Alfred asks him as he begins to wash up wares in the kitchen. " You have no idea , met some weirdo who called me a kid like what the hell " , Duke complains as he takes a bite of the sandwich . " Weirdo ?" Alfred questions as he dries a plate. " Yeah some named Widow " Duke replies . Alfred drops the plate.

He feels every muscle on his body tense at the mention of her name , a name that may have been a bygone memory to many but not to him never him . Duke scrambles out of his chair and approaches Alfred . " Hey are you okay ?" Duke asks as he holds the elderly man by the hands. Alfred tries - he tries to talk but is too shocked to say anything - he fears this is a dream , a cruel dream that god bestowed upon him as a punishment - a reminder of his failure .

"Widow - are you sure they said Widow ?" Alfred asks the boy frantically , panic old eyes watching Duke's intently. Duke stumbles back but answers , " Yeah that's what they said why does it matter ?" . Pin drop silence fills the manor as Alfred registers Duke's words. Alfred crouches to the ground , his hands run along the jargoned edges of the broken plate - the rough feeling grounds him , reminding him that all of this is real .

" It matters because that is your sister young master " Alfred forces out. Silence consumes them again . " What ?" Duke questions as he holds onto Alfred tighter. For the five years he has lived with the Waynes - no one never mentioned a Widow or a sister not ever so why is it now that he finds out that he has a sister and one that he has not heard or known about.

Alfred can feel warm hot tears running down his worn cheeks as nostalgic memories of him making a younger you a hot chocolate in the afternoon as you sit in the same chair as Duke had , coloring whilst simply blabbering about your day. He recalls how every night , he can feel your tiny figure sneaking into his bed to hug him with your stuffed bunny You were practically his daughter .

He also remembers that you weren't particularly liked by the Wayne family , at the time only consisted of himself and Bruce - a younger much fragile Bruce that had no idea how to raise a kid - a kid that was just put into his custody because their parents got too drugged up and k*lled themselves in the living room.

The situation wasn't ideal , Bruce was immature , till learning how to navigate his own feelings , his own anger , his own loss and so were you , a small , fragile thing that didn't quite yet understand why mommy and daddy were being put in a box .

He also remembers that tragic day - the day he lost you - . It was like any ordinary day , he dropped you off at kindergarten and watched you run to your teacher , excitedly showing her a drawing you made. He watches you smile and wave him goodbye as the teacher escorts you to your classroom. Alfred does what he usually does , returns back home and begin his preparations when he receives a call from your teacher . He remembers the dread , the sheer panic , the bone chilling anxiety that consumed him when he picked up that call to hear your teacher utter the words

" two government officials barged in class around recess and they took ( name ) I'm so sorry I tried to stop them - tried to grab the tiny thing but they had her really tight and - and they left "

[bubbleggum444]

—❝𐌋ITTLE MIƧƧ AC𝚃IVIST!❞

contents damian wayne x fem!reader, new hero!reader au, fluff + angst (n comfort), 3k+ wc. synopsis he knows all too well what it is like to feel like you don't fit it.

This felt so... wrong. Everything and everyone around ___ was just so frustrating, so difficult to deal with.

She had been an activist for as long as she could remember, fighting for what she believed in. But everything changed when she became a hero.

For better or worse? She wasn’t sure. No—oh great, Starfire just burned another tree down. Just perfect. Yeah, definitely worse.

Time and time again, this path hurt. It pulled at her, tore at her, like two different people were fighting for control inside her body.

One part of her—the old her—was someone who spent hours protesting, climbing trees to protect them, boycotting inhumane brands, and helping the vulnerable.

The other—the hero—was someone who saw, day in and day out, just how much destruction heroes left behind in their wake.

She knew her thoughts must have been tiring to others. Maybe even annoying. But she didn’t care. They weren’t her, and she wasn’t them. No one had the right to tell her how to feel about this.

Still, she could only bite her tongue for so long.

During a mission, Beast Boy casually tossed a used water bottle onto the street.

She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a nag. So instead, she simply picked it up, intending to throw it in a trash can.

Then she heard Garfield chuckle.

"Are you our new teammate or the trashman, newbie?"

Ouch.

Even the other Titans fell silent at the remark.

Her fingers clenched around the plastic, her vision burning. She didn’t dare look at any of them. She was too close to breaking.

So she walked away.

She hadn’t planned to. It was an impulsive decision, but that was who she was—rash, reactive. Always ready to act against injustice, even before becoming a hero.

She kept walking until she reached a park bench and collapsed onto it. The moment she was alone, the tears came. She hated this—hated feeling weak, hated that everything was finally catching up to her. The pressure of expectations, the weight of two halves of herself pulling in opposite directions.

It felt suffocating.

Like the disappointment she had seen in her parents’ eyes when she struggled to balance school and activism. The kind of disappointment that didn’t hurt physically but cut so much deeper.

A shiver ran down her spine as something cold wrapped around her from behind.

Whack!

On instinct, she swung back, landing a solid smack on whoever had just grabbed her.

"Damian?!" Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God, I’m so—"

"No, I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his arm. "I came after you... I just didn’t know how to approach you."

Her chest tightened.

She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. Least of all Damian.

She couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that spilled over, but this time, he was ready. He pulled her into another hug, and she let herself sink into it, gripping onto him like she might fall apart otherwise.

"There’s nothing wrong with being someone who picks up trash," she mumbled, voice still thick with emotion.

"That’s a decent, respectable job."

Damian huffed a small laugh.

"That’s not funny—"

"I know."

He tilted her chin up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. His green eyes searched hers, steady and unreadable.

"I’ve noticed how much you’ve been pushing yourself, ___," he murmured.

"Stepping out of your comfort zone. Going against things you once believed in."

His hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.She held his gaze, her breath catching.

"It’s admirable," he continued, voice softer now. "And... I understand more than you think."

She swallowed hard.

She barely knew Damian. Out of all the Titans, he was the most closed off.

Yet here he was. In a park. In the middle of the night. Holding her. Comforting her.

Was it always this warm at this time of year?

Her voice wavered slightly when she spoke. "Meaning...?"

He exhaled, thumb brushing over her cheek like he was afraid she might break.

"Meaning I’ve been where you are," he admitted. "I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. To think that no matter what you do, you’ll never truly fit in."

His voice dipped lower, carrying something raw beneath it.

"And it hurt deeply. I rejected those who tried to help me because they were different, yet I embraced the pain from others simply because they were my familiars."

The air between them felt heavy—not with awkwardness, but with something deeper. It was as if their hearts had silently intertwined, speaking in a language beyond words. The weight of unspoken emotions filled the space between them, their rapid beats echoing a conversation only they could understand.

She felt it. The way her heartbeat stumbled, the way something in her chest tightened painfully.

And she could feel his too. Beating, racing—just like hers.

The silence between them was fragile, delicate, like the moment might shatter if either of them spoke.

With one arm dropping to his side, the other wraps itself around her shoulder in a gentle side hug.

"Let’s go get some dumplings," he murmured. "There’s a Chinatown nearby. The vendors stay open late."

Slowly, she let herself relax against him, nodding.

"Okay," she whispered. "Let’s get some pho."

As they walked along the cobblestone streets, ___ let out a quiet giggle.

His cheeks kind of look like dumplings…

She bit her lip to suppress her laughter, but Damian caught it anyway.

His gaze flickered toward her. "What’s so funny?"

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"Nothing," she said softly. "I’m just really excited for the food."

Damian narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. But he let it go, walking just a little closer to her as they made their way down the dimly lit street.

And for the first time in a long time, ___ felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so alone after all.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

© — ggυɱi '25

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

alsooo BB would NEVA be like this. I just needed a "bag guy" for the story :)👌🏻

[fuctacles]

If you saw the snippets where i fucked up the timeline no u didnt.

<< 16 | 0 | 18 >>

"What's his name?" Steve asks, playing with the bunny's paw. The only time he let go of him since last night was to use the bathroom.

"Frankenbunny," Eddie answers, and smiles when Steve snorts after hearing it. "My grandma made him from fabric scraps grandpa would bring from work. I've made the vest, though." He stretches and blinks his eyes open properly, in time to see Steve's impressed expression.

"Really?"

"Well, Wayne helped," he added. "It's actually made from the same jacket I turned into my vest." 

"Oh, that's so cool!" Steve turns the bunny around to take a better look at the details. The tiny vest even has frayed edges and Dio stitched on the back. "You guys match."

Eddie snorts. 

"Yeah, we're both full of stitches," he points out dryly. 

Steve hums, pressing the toy closer to his face. It's something he's done before sleep, too, but last night Eddie wrote it off as a drunken mirage.

"And both pretty handsome fellas," he says, face half-hidden behind the bunny. He opens one eye, looking from under his eyelashes shyly, trying to gauge Eddie's reaction. 

Which, Eddie would love to know and understand as well.

"Oh, I don't know," he shrugs, reaching out to poke at Frankenbunny's face. "He doesn't have the signature Munson dimples." When in doubt, joke, as the Denial Decalogue says. 

Steve hums. 

"Yeah, I guess he can't hold a candle to the real thing. Not as talkative, for one."

Eddie can't help but stare, still leaning over his friend as he processes what he's heard. 

"You like my constant yapping?" he asks in surprise. Even his uncle seems tired of it, at times. Only his players appreciate his word flow, but that's with benefit to them.

"Of course." Steve focuses his attention back on the toy. "When you talk, I don't have to, I can just listen. And that's good because I tend to say some stupid shit," he says, almost absentmindedly. "This way, I'm not the dumb one in the room for once."

The casual innocence of his voice makes the meaning of his words miss Eddie completely until the air waves hit his other ear. 

"Oh, you little..."

As Steve's cheeky smirk grows, he pounces. 

Frankenbunny falls away, the hands holding him now focused on guarding all the ticklish spots. 

"Eddie!" Steve laughs, trying to grasp his wrists and squirm away. "We need to be quiet." 

"Should have though of it before being a brat!" Eddie grins at him, doubling his efforts and moving to pin him in place. 

Steve makes a distressed sound and writhes under him, bending hard enough it dislodges Eddie off of him but also, off the bed. He falls down with a surprised squeak.

"Sorry!" Steve barely suppresses his laugh when he looks down at him. "You alright?"

"No," Eddie groans, splayed on the floor. "I got back-stabbed."

"The dramatics are intact, you'll be fine," he rolls his eyes and steps over him. Eddie makes an even more wounded sound, but Steve ignores him, choosing to look for something comfy to wear instead. He throws a tshirt that doesn't smell of barbecue at Eddie's face, mistakenly assuming that's it—they are going to leave his bedroom and start on breakfast for the others. 

Wrong.

As soon as he has a pick of clothes in his hand, and is trying to get to the bathroom, Eddie grabs his ankle. He makes an undignified yelp and lands on the other boy. Which, serves him well. 

They roll on his carpet in an impromptu wrestling match, grinning at each other and muffling their laughs, trying to get the upper hand. 

Until Steve snaps his teeth at Eddie.

They freeze, two pairs of wide eyes staring at the other in silence. 

Steve moves first, backing away and almost falling over Eddie's knees. 

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he explains quickly, scrambling to get off his friend. Eddie doesn't stop him, just stares openly at the mesmerizing specimen in front of him.

"That was so fucking hot."

"I don't know why I did—what?" Steve sits back on his haunches, eyes even wider as he stares at Eddie. At his wild hair splayed around his head, at his flushed face. The sliver of skin visible where his shirt has ridden up while they were roughhousing. 

"What?" he parrots, licking his lips nervously. 

"What did you just say?" Steve presses, voice turning desperate, pressing. But Eddie seals his mouth into a tight line. Lead by a hunch, he looks for his answer down the line of his body.

"Hey!" Eddie protests, sitting up and pulling his shirt down. But it was too late, the tent in his pants has been seen. "What the fuck, man?!" he hisses, his face red and eyes wide in panic. 

"Sorry, I—" Steve bites his lip. "But I snapped at you? That's weird, right?"

"Well, I'm apparently into weird, so..." Eddie trails off, looking away. Pointedly avoiding Steve's searching eyes. 

"You're into it?" he prods, but all Eddie can give him is a shrug. It's too fresh of a feeling to properly explain. Hell, he hasn't full came to terms with it himself yet. 

"Is it like a... a sex thing?" Steve tries again. 

"Maybe? Probably? I don't know!" Eddie snaps defensively, folding in on himself to hide his thankfully wilting erection. 

Steve's silence is terrifying, and when he looks up, he finds his eyes still studying him.

"Quit staring, man," he mumbles, squeezing his thighs together. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." Steve shakes his head. "It's fine, it happens. But just... don't move for a second."

"It happens," Eddie is muttering mockingly, when the rest of his friend's words register in his brain. "What?" But Steve is already too close, and he can't escape. Not that he wants to. "Steve," he says quietly, between a warning and a plea, when warm breath hits his neck.

Steve is sniffing him. At the crook of his neck, where undoubtedly his embarrassment has gathered in a pool of sweat.

He's terrified in a way that has nothing to do with fear. Worried what Steve might smell on him, when his surprisingly cold nose brushes his skin. 

Or maybe it's him running hot with whatever has just transpired. 

Eddie flinches at the touch and Steve moves away, his eyes big and warm with something he can't read. 

"You're fine," he says, and it sounds more like a relief of his own than reassurance for Eddie. "I'm into weird too."

Eddie looks at him quizzically, until he realizes it's not Steve's face holding his answers. He trails his gaze down, and immediately aims it back upward, over-correcting towards the heavens, where maybe he'll get some guidance.

"Shit," he croaks out from his closed up throat. Steve is way too close to him too, from his impromptu sniffing session. Eddie coughs to clear his airways. "Why did you smell me? Is it that bad?" he jokes, but has a feeling Steve won't take the out. Not with the curious way he's looking at him. 

"You smell like want," he answers with painful honesty. "Embarrassment."

Eddie blushes at that one. Well, yeah. Popping a boner in front of your, uh, something, will do that to a man.

"But also joy, affection," Steve continues. "And no fear."

"Why would I fear you? We were just playing around. It's not like you're gonna bite me," he focuses on the safest option. He's not unpacking his feelings for Steve first thing in the morning. Maybe after a coffee. 

It's Steve's turn to go beet red. 

"Sometimes I want to."

"What?" 

He shuffles back sheepishly. 

"Sometimes I see you and I really, really wanna bite you."

Eddie stares at him.

"In like, a werewolf way?" he asks dumbly, earning himself a flat look.

"I think we've established this is not how werewolves are made. I meant in, like, a playful way," he explains. "Like, I'm so excited and happy I can't hold it in anymore, way."

He wants to ask if it's a pack thing, but bites his tongue, not sure if anyone has even taught Steve pack rituals. The guy is going through pure instincts alone, and should be supported in it, so really, there's only one thing he can say.

"Well, why won't you?"

They stare at each other in stunned silence, until a clatter comes from downstairs.

"Steeeeve! The express is doing it again!"

Eddie deflates with a groan, falling back onto the carpet. What the fuck did he just say? He won't survive this crush. Steve will be no help, as he's now hovering over his body.

"We'll get back to this," he says quietly, in a promise or a warning, before clambering upright and out of the room, yelling at Robin.

"Do not press the fucking button!"

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot @dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86 @ollyxar @estrellami-1 @stevesworldxx @ajeff855 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @thelittleclare @wheneverfeasible @bumblebeecuttlefishes @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @n33dlew0rk @manliest-of-muppets @ravenfrog @dreamercec @tartarusknight  @eyehartart @ellietheasexylibrarian @im-sam-fucking-winchester

[lov3darlings]

saw that you wanted requests…. wb a little more fluffy take on figure skater reader x lando? maybe reader teaches him how to skate 😼 idk if this completely fits w the dynamic that you write them w tho, so if you don’t like this idea, feel free to ignore !

hav a great day :)

darlings thoughts

cw: fluff, fluff and lil sexual tension ig. obvi that 6 year age gap. also dw it does fit with the dynamic. they're the type of couple that ppl look and say 'omg he's really spoiled her.'

"i won't laugh," you promised kissing his cheek. you were trying to convince lando to go skating with you and somehow you ended up on his lap trying to bribe him with kisses.

while lando loved all of you, specially the figure skater you and your endless competitive drive. he was worried that he'd embarrass himself infront of you.

but he cannot possibly say no to you, even if he tried. besides, he's shown you all parts of him, even the parts of him that came with racing. it was only fair that he went skating with you.

"fine," he gives in. his face breaking into a smile when he sees your face light up. "but you can't laugh," he warns threading his fingers through your hairs. "i won't."

and that's how he ended up at think you train at an ungodly hour.

your laugh boomed through the empty rink, drowning out the symphony of your master and magarita program. "you said you wouldn't laugh," lando says. you skate effortlessly towards him.

"my bad," she extends out her palms for him to hold. "don't worry i got thi—" he almost slipped making you laugh harder. "come on," you grab his hands.

"you're so tensed, loosen up love," you say. "yeah, but what if i fall?" he glares at the frozen body of water beneath his skates. "you won't. i got you," you try to reassure him. "yeah like how you said you won't laugh," he scoffs at you. "well, not like that."

lando finally loosens up, standing more straight and holding onto you firmer. "see it's so much easier," you say as you skate backwards. but the older man is too busy admiring you.

he looks at you with awe as you crane your neck backwards to make sure you both won't run into the boards. the way the untucked hairs fall over your face. he moves his hand to tuck it behind your ears.

"wow," he mumbles under his breathe. "huh?" you look him. his loving gaze making you flustered. "focus on skating lando," you say. "how can i when i have this absolutely stunning angel teaching me," he cups your face.

everything blurs around you two. the symphony already died down for him even though the notes of the piano became intense. for him, it was just you and him. even forgetting he was on ice with sharp skates stapped to his feet.

"i love you," he leans down to kiss your forehead. "i love you too," you whisper adding a subtle dramatic flare to it that he missed. taking his hands in yours but slowly, retrieving your hands as you skate away.

lando stands in the middle of the rink, alone with no aid. he watched you skate away cheekily as the realization dawned upon him. he stood there with no aid. "sweetheart," he whined. "yeah?" you teased.

lando pouted, but his instincts was to follow you. taking wobbly strides to chase after you. you giggled at him but those giggles were cut short when you saw him fall.

"oh my god are you okay?" you kneel next to him. lando wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto him. "haha gotcha," he chuckled. "fuck off that's not fair," you rolled your eyes at him, laying down next to him on the ice.

"it's called throwing a dummy to overtake," he smirks. "but don't you think my acting was emmy worth? you were totally scared," he added. "i wasn’t," you argue.

"sure darling, whatever helps you sleep at night," he brings you closer to him. "now come on teach me how do i do that signature spin of your," he says. "yeah no, you'll risk an injury. you're not flexible enough. plus jon is gonna eat my head off if you get injured."

"makes sesne. but you, my love are very very flexible," his hands play with the hem of your sports bra. his attention finally lands on the master and magarita loop that was playing.

"you know i really love this program and the dress. we should get you more replicas of it. it's so pretty to tear it off of you," he whispers. "shut up," you hit his chest, blushing.

[redcherrystars]

Gemstones 💎

A/n: personal Sylus hedcannon: he likes to leave shinies (jewelry, shiny trinkets, etc.) around for you like an homage to his og dragon traits 😱😱

SEND REQUESTS!!

Content listing: (700ish wc) lnds Sylus x afab reader, established relationship, reader being spoiled, loads of fluff

Your boyfriend truly is a sly crow. A cheeky bastard more or less. Going into your shared master bedroom at his mansion in the N109 zone, you find yourself unpinning your hair, kicking off your heels (your core is screaming at you), and shrugging off the red satin dress Sylus had purchased for your enjoyment.

Rifling through his side of the wardrobe, a large teeshirt of his practically sings your name, nearly leaping into your hands-it even smells like him.

Throwing on your newly acquired treasure, some sleep shorts and slippers to protect your poor toes from the cold tile floors of the kitchen, you make your way downstairs for a large glass of water and a late night snack. After a (rather filling) snack of stovetop ramen, cleaning the dishes and getting that precious glass of water, you trek back to the bedroom, only to find the bathroom light on, and hot steam emitting from the shower. It seems as though Sylus snuck right by you for an evening bathing session. You can’t help but pout briefly over the lack of invitation, but the feeling quickly recedes when you notice a small velvet box on your nightstand.

Curiosity killed the cat, as they say, and it definitely gets the better of you as you pick the box up. The navy blue velvet was soft against your fingertips, and a gasp escapes your lips when you open it.

A glittering pair of ruby earrings lay nestled in blue velvet cushion, the same deep, rich coloring as your partner’s eyes. At first, you’re befuddled. Why is this here? Why would Sylus put this here? This gift was too much-you couldn’t accept it, but you didn’t know if you should mention it at all.

And you didn’t, as Sylus crawled into bed with you, clean after his shower. You fall asleep on your back, your very large boyfriend sleeping slotted between your legs, his face pressed into your belly. His hands firmly held your waist, and he inhaled into your shirt.

—————-

3 weeks later, a copious amount of jewelry and shiny trinkets made their way into your collection. A sapphire necklace, silver shirt cuffs in the shape of a dragon, diamond and ruby bracelets, shiny silver rings, rare glittery coins-the list goes on and on. Your previously empty jewelry box was now stuffed to the brim, and you didn’t miss the twinkle in Sylus’s eyes when he saw you wearing the various new pieces he’d silently selected and gifted you.

And you hadn’t said a thing. What was there to say? But you couldn’t help but want to know why. Sure, he had all the money in the world, but why?

By the end of June, your curiosity had practically eaten you from inside and out, and you had to ask him.

You find Sylus lounging on a black settee, his reading glasses low on his nose, and a glass of whiskey in his hand as he read some…naughty book of yours. That will make for a riveting conversation later.

“Hey Sy?”

“Yes Kitten?” Those gem-like eyes watch you with almost a teasing intensity.

“Do you have…a um….explanation…for…the lil’ shinies..that have been all over the house?” You tilt your head, and Sylus just grins. Cheeky bastard.

“They’re just gifts, sweetheart.”

“Yeah but…I can’t repay that. It’s too much.” Your cheeks flush, all peachy colored.

“Sweetheart, love, these are not things to pay back. Ever. I have more money than I know what to do with—more than I could spend in a hundred lifetimes. Let me spoil you with luxury.” He sat down his glass on the side table, before standing up and walking towards you. The enigmatic man gently cups your cheeks before giving you a soft kiss, his lips gently brushing against yours. It was almost teasing. Almost.

“I like seeing my girl all dressed up in nice things.” His nose brushed against your forehead, making you giggle.

“You’re too good to me.” You murmur against his chest.

“There is no such thing.” He whispers. After all, seeing his girl covered with gems makes his heart soar.

“There is no love more pure than mine.”

[aangelinakii]

THE TEDDY THAT NEEDS TWO PARENTS.

— not his partner, not his lover.

summary : you're sick of this situationship you're in with tim drake. it's time for a change, and you're going to get it. one way or another.

note : mention of sexual occurances ? but it's not explicitly said it's more of like an alluded to sexual stuffs,, and also mentions of food issues and also tim is toxic !!!!!!

requested !

he's standing here, paid with his own money, throwing rubber balls at tin cans to win you a stupid teddy bear — but it's the biggest one on the shelf, so you're not too upset.

it's just... isn't this what boyfriends do? you know, for the people they're dating?

and, whatever this was between you and tim drake, it's not dating.

he throws his final ball, with a single tower of three cans left; he started with three balls, three towers, and managed to knock the first two down. if he misses this, you'll pretend to be upset, but then give him a kiss anyway as a thanks for participating.

you can't watch. your hands come to shield your eyes from the loss he's about to suffer.

ding! ding! ding!

from beside you, tim cheers and the attendant behind the stand gives a laugh. "nice one, what can i get for you?"

tim's voice grows farther away as he moves off to get the teddy bear, and you reluctantly move your hands away. he's probably just joking around to make you think he did it.

but when your eyes land on the table, which once owned three towers, you find it mostly empty, save for the few tin cans toppled to their sides. he... he did it?

you turn, and tim's coming back, his smile wide and shiny, the white stuffed teddy the same size as the length of his torso. "did you see?" he grins, holding out the bear for you, its head bobbing to the side, looking like its being held up by the scarlet red ribbon tied there. "three towers down just like that."

a surprised laugh huffs past your lips, and you have to try to pretend you're not surprised — not when it comes to tim, you shouldn't be surprised anymore.

"yeah, you were just great!" you reply, taking the bear beneath the shoulders and holding it to your side. he is really cute... or she. you should name it, but the only name you can think of is tim, and you're not sure you want to remember your new teddy by him.

seeming to mimic your action with the teddy bear, tim loops his arm around your back, pulling you snug into his side as you step away from the stand, the man stacking the towers back up again behind you. "where to next?" tim asks, squeezing the fabric of your clothes beneath his palm lightly. "i'm kind of hungry after all that throwing."

this time a real laugh comes out. "throwing? you barely threw them hard enough to kill a fly if it went past."

cheeky smile on his face, tim removes his arm to sling around your shoulders. "well, i saw a burger truck that smelled really good when we passed earlier. you up for burgers?"

"as long as you're paying." despite what could've sounded self-depricating, your tone told tim you were joking. he still squeezes your shoulder regardless.

"don't worry, i've got you tonight," he smiles, peering down at you beneath crescented eyes that come with his grin. it doesn't seem his lips are budging any time soon. "everything on me. gotham doesn't always have the carnival."

see? in this light, the purples and reds and greens flashing from the ferris wheel you tread beneath, he could be a boyfriend. the words he chooses, sure to melt your heart, if only you weren't thinking the entire time about how he could be the one to mend it.

yet he seems to break it every time.

every time he leaves your place, after spending the night in your arms, or you in his; every time he walks past you like he hasn't seen you most at your vulnerable, whether it be tears streaming down your face or stripped to your under garments. every time you're together with other people and he refers to you as his friend.

just his friend.

not his partner, not his lover. nothing of the sort.

and then he has the nerve to take you on a date to the fair like a good boyfriend would?

when you come back to your senses, you're standing next in line at the burger van tim said he wanted food from. to be honest, your appetite disappeared long ago; you can't seem to stomach food in his presence.

but he squeezes your shoulder again and smiles down at you and you think you'll ask him just to get you some fries. if you're hungry later you'll eat when you're alone.

finally the group in front moves away, and tim steps up to the cook leaning out the window, where delicious fumes of oil-soaked meats and spices of condiments are floating through. "hey! can i get a large cheeseburger, everything inside, and a pepsi max?" tim orders, and then looks down at you, the light from inside the van casting shadows on his face that make him look almost soft. almost. "you craving much?"

it takes you a minute, your mind too focused on how the light can change the way your heart beats for him; if you can't see the entire face that keeps letting you down, it seems to not think anything's wrong. "just some fries, please."

"great," tim smiles, turning back to nod at the man, and he reels his arm back from over your shoulders to dig into his pocket for his wallet. "you find somewhere while i pay, okay? i'll come with the food."

no need to tell you twice.

when you detach yourself from him, your entire side is burning with the remnants of tim drake, his casual kindness, lingering smiles, such a great contrast to how he sounded on the phone the other night when you asked him to hang out; deep sighs, long pauses. it's like he's an entirely different person.

your thoughts keep you occupied long enough to see tim return, balancing a cardboard box of loaded fries, his wrapped burger and his cup of pepsi in his arms. you found a picnic bench nearby, and purposely sat your new teddy in the space beside you so tim would have to sit opposite you instead.

maybe if you looked at him hard enough you could hate him.

tim sits down before you none the wiser. he places the food down and pokes the box of fries over to your section of the wooden table. you probably won't end up touching them, and he'll eat them all, which is fair, considering it's his money.

he begins to eat his burger like he can't read the room; not like he ever had that skill with you anyway.

still, you find it hard to believe he works alongside batman, once acting as his main sidekick — and he still can never pick up on your frustration towards him.

or maybe it's that he just chooses not to.

"tim," you say firmly, causing him to look up from his burger, but continue chewing all the while. "can we talk?"

"yeah, anything," you just about make out through his mouthful of beef and cheese and bap bun.

"can you stop eating for this?"

his chew pauses, and you can tell in the couple seconds he looks at you that he's weighing up the situation. he resumes crunching down his mouthful and places the burger down on its wrapping, swallowing his food.

now his attention is on you — fully, for what feels like the first time in months — the words feel like they're about to disappear, like you're going to back out and leave this unspoken.

no, you have to.

you have him now, you have to.

"i... guess i just want to say i'm not really sure this is," you finally say.

tim doesn't make an effort to respond, or even seem like he understands what you mean.

"like..." oh, god, here come the stupid words. "what are we?"

that seems to do it.

his lips part like he wants to say something but stopped quickly, and he flinches like you're holding your fists up at him, ready to strike, but you haven't moved, and he doesn't speak.

does he even know?

"like, i know we're friends, but it feels like we're on a date right now," you further explain, feelings hot and heavy in your chest. "and it's not like you asked me to go on a date with you, you just said let's go to the carnival, but i feel like you're treating me... i don't know. like we're actually together."

a pause.

"and you always treat me like that, except for when we're with other people, then you don't. then you act like you don't want anything to do with me at all."

his eyes have flitted down to stare at his burger, almost like he's expecting it to grow arms and legs and come to his aid.

"so i guess i just want an explanation."

seeing this as the end of your rant, tim lets out a great sigh.

he brings his hands up from beneath the table, resting his elbows on the wood and steepling his fingers, where his chin rests on the tips. he won't look at you, but he's incredibly silent, so much so that the screams and laughs of fairgoers around you seems to grow louder in the absence of his voice.

the silence alone urges you to reach out for the still-untouched box of fries, and you pull it towards yourself, reaching in for a salty chip, eager to pass the time until he dare speaks.

you've stopped counting how many chips you've eaten when you can make out his voice over the round of screams as the rollercoaster zooms past.

"i'm sorry," is all he says, but you push the box of fries a smidgen away, an instinctive reaction to him. you deserve to unlearn that.

your stare is hot on him, and even in the lack of daylight you can tell he's squirming under the pressure.

"i shouldn't be dragging you along," he continues sheepishly, avoiding your eyes like his life depends on it. "i... i suppose it's just easier to be like this than to man up and actually ask you. and you've shown me you'll just... god, this is horrible."

"no, tell me," you answer almost immediately. "tell me so i can do better. i don't want to be stupid."

"you're not—" the ghost of a smile dances along his lips. "you're not stupid. it's my fault, not yours at all in this. i was being selfish, taking advantage of what i could get. and what i could get was you, i suppose."

even though he's being honest, which you want, you can't help but feel a twang in the pit of your stomach.

"you do like me, though, right?" you ask him before you can stop yourself. you sound like a child, but you can justify it by reminding yourself of all the mixed signals he's been giving you the past few months.

this is what causes that small smile to widen, show the truth of his feelings, heart to spill out all over the table. he gives a small nod, like he can't believe he's doing it, and gingerly places a hand on the table, palm facing up.

he takes a small breath, words uncertain as he speaks next. "i totally understand if you get up right now and choose to never see me again — like, i really, really get it — but... i don't know, i really like you, i think i just need to unlearn some things about myself. would you, i don't know, stay around and teach me better?"

now is the time his eyes finally meet yours, and he's leaning ever so slightly across the table towards you. should you do it?

"i know i was stringing you along, but i don't think i waited for a minute to actually think about what i was doing."

even though every pang of sadness and ache from the past five months is telling you not to, something stronger behind your ribs is telling you to take his hand.

and so you take it.

"this bear is gonna need two parents," you muster up the courage to say, a bashful smile shining through.

tim even grins — something you're not used to being because of you — and he stands up slightly to lean into you, his hand still gripping yours, but the other comes to place lightly on the side of your head. a soft peck lands on your crown, possibly the softest tim has ever been with you.

when he sits back down, his free hand finds his burger again. "can i eat yet?"

"yes, you can eat," you chuckle in response.

although it's clear he's trying to hide it behind his big bite of burger, tim's grinning, and his eyes fold into soft crescents. "so, does this mean i'm your boyfriend?"

"it fucking better, you dick."

the words are harsh but your tone is sweet, spoken alongside a smile that causes your cheeks to hurt.

[dixons-sunshine]

Good Girl, Officer | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nervous on his first day on the job as a cop, you opted to try and help Steve calm down and relax. However, while doing so, you ensured that you’d be in for one hell of a night when he got back from work.

Genre: Fluff, a little suggestive.

Warnings: Some sexual innuendo.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: I don’t know what this is. Honestly, this isn’t my best work, but this has been sitting in my drafts for days and I figured I might as well post it. I hope it’s still somewhat enjoyable! And if anyone wants a part two with smut, I’d be willing to try and write one.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Looking up from the cup of coffee in your hands, your eyes locked with those beautiful amber ones of your husband’s in the mirror. He was busy fiddling with the collar of his button up shirt, the jacket with the familiar “Hawkins PD” logo on it hanging open on his broad frame. It was chilly outside, the rain and wind making it necessary to wear one. His glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, his eyes nervously darting between you in the mirror and his outfit.

You placed the cup down on your nightstand and made your way over to Steve, wrapped your arms around him from behind and rested your chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do great, Stevie,” you reassured him, your tone soft and sincere.

Steve inhaled, before exhaling a shuddering breath. “I don’t know,” he began quietly. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up. Maybe even die.”

You hummed and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder. “Take a deep breath, okay?” After he followed your orders and took a few deep breaths, you continued. “You’ll be just fine, Steve. I know it. You’ve been working hard for this. Plus, if push comes to shove, you know Hopper will help you out in a heartbeat. He loves you.”

Steve managed to give you a small smile at that. “Sure. The ‘don’t fuck it up, Harrington’ and pat on the back he gave me at my graduation screams ‘I love you’.”

“It does if you’re Hopper,” you told him through a small chuckle, stepping back when he turned around to face you. Instead, you looped your arms around his neck, your husband’s hands going to rest on your hips. “But seriously. I know you’ve got this. You worked your ass off for it, and it shows. I promise you’ll be just fine. And hey, if anyone gives you trouble, I’m just a phone call away. I’ll come to your rescue.”

He chuckled at that. “My hero,” he said, before leaning in to give you a soft, tender kiss. His nose bumped against yours, and his glasses pressed against his face awkwardly, but he didn’t care. When he pulled away, he smiled at you lovingly.

You returned the smile. “So do you feel better?”

“A little bit,” he began, his thumbs tracing idle circles on your hips. “I still feel like m’gonna throw up, but at least I don’t feel like I’m gonna die.”

“That’s good,” you replied. “Well, not the throwing up part, but the not dying part is great. Who else is gonna give me such awesome back rubs if you’re gone?”

Steve laughed and rolled his eyes. “Nice.” He stepped back from your embrace and fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, his hands a little shaky and only being successfully zipped up because of your assistance. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” You glanced behind him at his car keys, before looking back at him. “Well, officer Harrington. All you need to complete this…” You pressed your hand against his chest and trailed it up and down slowly. “...very sexy look is a pair of handcuffs, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, and a gun,” he began, completely oblivious to the innuendo behind your words. “But I’ll get both of those down at the station. Hopper’s orders.”

You smiled and shook your head, stepping back from him and heading over to the nightstand to grab your coffee. “That’s not what I meant, but okay.”

Steve frowned. “What did you—” You nearly burst out laughing when a look of realization spread over his face. “Oh.”

You took a sip from your coffee and sat back down on the bed, smiling brightly. “Yeah.”

He scratched the back of his head, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You into that kinda thing? I mean, you’ve never brought it up before.”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see, huh?” You blinked up at him with a faux innocent look. “I promise I’ve been a good girl, officer.”

Steve inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game.” He opened his eyes and glanced down at his watch. “And I’ve gotta go soon.”

You hummed and got up from the bed again, placing the cup back where you found it and walked back over to Steve. You straightened out his uniform for him, before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips in greeting.

“Go,” you whispered, pecking the corner of his lips for good measure. “Go make the world a better place, officer Harrington.” You leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “We’ll test the whole handcuff thing when you get back.”

The look he sent your way as he slowly retreated backwards sent a shiver over your spine. You knew that if he didn’t have somewhere to be, the two of you wouldn’t leave the room that day. But alas, he had a job he needed to get to. You would have to wait until later that night to do anything about it.

You laughed lightly when Steve stopped and strode back over from the door to give you one final kiss, gently pushing him away when it got a little too heated for someone that needed to be out of the house in five minutes if they wanted to be on time. “Woah there, cowboy,” you halted him. “You gotta go.” Despite your words, he continued to press little kisses to your face, making you smile. “I’m serious. Go.”

Steve looked like a man in agony when he finally pulled away. “It’s your fault, you know?” he said. “You were the one that put that idea in my head. How am I supposed to focus after that?”

“With great effort,” you joked, before giving him a peck on the cheek and stepping back. “Now go. You don’t wanna be late on your first day.”

Your husband sighed deeply and nodded, adjusting his glasses on his nose. “Okay,” he began. He sent you a pointed look. “Until tonight then?”

You nodded. “Until tonight.”

Steve straightened his jacket, grabbed his keys from the dresser—keys he would have forgotten if he hadn’t decided to turn back and give you a kiss—and turned back to you. “I love you.”

You smiled at him softly. “I love you too.”

With that, Steve finally left the room. You could hear his footsteps retreating down the hall, and you sat back down on the bed. While you knew you had other things you needed to think about, there was only one thing on your mind:

You were in for one hell of a night.

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 2

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she’s pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 |

2 weeks had passed but time dragged on slow for you.

You were back at your place and back to work. Being in Caleb’s home without him there was both comforting but so very lonely.

You didn’t know if it was the depression, the loneliness, or the memory of Caleb’s small sob that you had caught that last day you were together.

But you weren’t eating, your clothes felt a little looser but you felt a little bloated in your lower stomach.

Maybe it was your period coming…

This thought stuck with you as you filled out your report. Tara stopped by your desk, eyes glittering with worry.

“Are you doing ok?”

You muster up a smile and laugh

“Yeah I’m fine, why?”

“Your face looks worn and skinny. Are you eating ok?”

“Just had a bit of a stomach bug.”

The captain was walking nearby, she stopped hearing your words and turned to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“You’re sick?”

“Uh, I think so, maybe? I’ve felt like I have been anyways.”

“Go home early today and go see your doctor. We don’t need a virus sweeping through the association and leaving us with minimal staff.”

You sighed, you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

Typing up the last words on your most recent take down of a rogue wanderer. You catch a rare glimpse of your partner Xavier.

His eyes seemed to scan you as he asked

“Are you okay?”

You throw your hands up in exasperation and stand up to leave for the day.

“Not you too! I’m fine, don’t worry.”

He kept his eyes on you as you gathered your coat and bag.

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes I’m sure Xavier, good night.”

You didn’t bother putting on your coat as you left the building. You grabbed your phone and dialed the doctor's office.

“Akso Hospital, how can I help you?”

“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment to see Doctor Zayne as soon as possible.”

“Can I have your patient number?”

As you boarded the subway to head home, you read off your number. The city started to pass you by as you waited in silence.

“Actually he has an opening tonight at 6 PM, can you make it?”

You check the time, it’s 5:15 PM. Just enough time to stop somewhere and grab a protein drink since that’s all you can stomach.

“Yes I can make it, thank you.”

“We will see you at 6 then. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

You slip your phone into your pocket and lay your head on the window. Your stomach churns, but you haven’t felt hunger since Caleb left.

All that food he had made, it was all wasted.

He had packed it up all neatly in the fridge for you but you had spent the few days left at his house over the toilet.

So it had gone into the trash, making you feel horrible. Who knows when you’d get to taste his cooking again?

Who knows what your relationship would be like when he got home?

Caleb had left you that little note saying he was sorry, it was tucked into the case of your phone.

A physical reminder for you that he had really been here.

He wouldn’t be back for 4 months though. Keeping yourself busy was the only way to avoid sinking into the deep rut you could feel coming on.

Your long sigh fogged up the glass, winter was coming.

Getting off the subway, you headed to a nearby cafe. Inside the atmosphere was warm but all your focus was on that sad beige drink in a carton inside the fridge rack.

You grabbed it and waited in line.

Spacing out at first but a familiar voice caught your attention.

“I’ll pay for her drink too.”

“Zayne?”

“Going to workout?” You glanced down at your protein drink and laughed a bit.

“No, just about all I can stomach these days.”

You followed him to the side of the counter where he grabbed his presumably sickeningly sweet treat in a box.

Zayne frowned a bit before asking

“Are you sick?”

“I think so. I actually have an appointment here with you soon at 6. My boss insisted I go check before I go back to work.”

He nodded a bit before holding the door open for you.

“I’ll walk you there then.”

Companionable silence follows you down the streets. As do all you thoughts of Caleb.

You can’t help but feel that the reason he was so scared to define your relationship is because of what the Fleet higher ups might do.

All the secrets and what they were up to. Caleb wanted to keep you out of it but he also wanted you next to him.

It was quite the conundrum, you got it.

But it wasn’t fair to either of you.

Sighing deeply, letting out a waft of visible breath in front of you.

Oh well, you’d have to wait for him to come home to even fix things.

No communication was possible between ground and deepspace.

You followed Zayne in silence up to his office. He motioned the receptionist to check you in as he watched you with worried eyes.

You were uncharacteristically quiet.

Zayne set his box down at his desk and took a seat, he motioned at the seat in front of him for you to sit.

Sitting without a word, you could tell your silence unnerved him.

But you didn’t have the energy to play polite right now.

“What are your symptoms?” He brought up your vitals while asking you specifics.

“I’ve been feeling nauseous all through the day, been a bit a dizzy but that’s probably because I haven’t been eating much. I don’t have much of an appetite and I think I’ve lost a little weight.”

“You look like you haven’t been sleeping well either.”

Averting your eyes, you deflect

“That doesn’t have to do with this.”

“Mmmm, if you insist.”

He flicks through your vitals before something catches his attention.

“Are you sexually active?”

This question startles you a bit but you answer hesitantly

“Yes… what does that have to do with anything. Wait…. are you saying?”

“Yes. I’m seeing evidence of you being pregnant. Looks like it’s 5 weeks along but we can do some more in depth scans to be sure.”

You don’t hear anything after that.

Feeling a mixture of dread, wonder, happiness, and wondering how the hell you were going to deal with this?

“Was this a wanted pregnancy?” This question snapped you out of your spiral.

“Well I didn’t even know that I was pregnant! But….. yes, I think so.” Caleb’s baby. You bring your hands to your slightly bloated abdomen.

Ah, that’s why.

You hadn’t even noticed that your period was late in all the turmoil.

“I can give you a referral to an OB if that’s what you prefer.”

“Yes thank you, I appreciate it.”

He sends you some virtual information and lets you know that you should read the e-book on what to expect.

“Thank you Zayne.”

“Right, well you should get home. The information I sent you should have some foods that may be easier to keep down. I would suggest reviewing those and actually eating something. The weight you’ve lost already isn’t great for the baby or you.”

You suddenly feel guilty, not that you knew that you were pregnant but it still made you feel bad.

“Yes thank you Zayne, good night.”

You start to head out but he calls your name out so you stop to look back at him expectantly.

He seems to swallow a bit harshly before uttering

“Congratulations”

Smiling for real for the first time in half a month, you glow at him

“Thank you!”

You head out and head home.

Caleb may be gone for now but he had left you something very precious.

You hadn’t thought that you would be pregnant in your relationship quite this soon but you did what this baby. It was Caleb’s after all.

Wait

Caleb.

He doesn’t know and you have no way of telling him. He won’t be gone for the whole pregnancy but he was going to miss a lot of the early important milestones.

You don’t even know if he wants the baby.

No no, you shake your head.

He would definitely want this baby.

Determined now, you reach your apartment and sit on your couch while sipping your sad protein drink.

Using your phone, you look at the list of foods in the information Zayne sent over.

Crackers, ginger, fruits, a lot of mild and still somewhat sad foods but it was better than a protein drink.

Quickly tabbing over to a delivery app, you load up on early pregnancy foods to be sent over that night.

Task completed, you stretch back over the couch.

What a long day.

Oh! You could write letters and send Caleb voice as well as video messages so that when he gets back he’ll have a total record of what happened.

That way he could still be a part of it in some way.

Settling down into the couch, you hold your phone up to record your face.

“Hi Caleb! Guess what!?”

Making a show out of it, you bring your face close to the camera and glare at the imaginary Caleb.

“You got me pregnant! All those times you told me you would just pull out have come back to bite you. I told you so!”

You laugh a bit before continuing

“But really, I’m excited. I miss you so much so this is like having a small piece of you with me always.”

You look down where you had been unconsciously rubbing that small bloat that really wasn’t a true bump yet.

“Oh do you want to see?”

You place the phone on the coffee table, propping it up against your fake plant.

“See! It’s not a true bump but you can feel the firmness and see my little soon to be bump.”

You run your hand over it to exaggerate it. Smiling down sadly before glancing back at the camera.

“I wish you had been here to find out with me. You would’ve probably fainted if I had taken a test to check and I showed you the positive result. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have!”

You tear up a bit at the thought of him being gone for all this.

“I wish you were here…”

You grabbed your phone and brought it back to your face again.

“But I’ll send you lots of updates! So you can see them all when you get back! I love you Caleb. Come home soon okay?”

You stop the recording, sending it to him. Knowing he wouldn’t see it for a few months. But you were just glad to make him a part of the process somehow.

All the while, unaware that Caleb may never come home to you.

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @midiplier @tabi-callico

[cloverapple]

How To Let Go

First things first; drop the idea that reading this will magically make you shift. If you’re here thinking “Oh, I’ll read this, I’ll let go, and then I’ll shift” stop! right! there! I know you want to shift, I know you want to get your desire, but you are missing the whole point of why you want to let go in the first place!

Second if all; there’s no one way to let go because there’s no one thing you’re letting go of. And that’s where most people trip up. You hear it everywhere:

”Just let go!”

“Release!”

“Detach!”

Like it’s some effortless switch you can flip on command regardless of how your unique mind works 😑

And then when you can’t, you start to feel like a failure, like you cannot accomplish this very basic thing that everyone seems to be doing so effortlessly.

Well my darling, listen to me: this is not your fault. You not being able to let go has nothing to do with how capable you are, how lucky you are, or how “primed” your mind is. None of that.

The mind fixates. That’s what it does. If shifting is a huge desire for you, you don’t just drop it overnight. If your DR is playing on a loop in your head, of course you’re going to latch onto it. If every time you go to bed, you secretly hope to wake up in your DR, your brain is still holding on. And yeah, it sucks. Because suddenly your dedication feels like a burden. You start asking “Why can’t I just let go? What’s wrong with me?”

Been there, felt that.

I’m going to tell you exactly why letting go is something anyone can do, and how you can start immediately—without the mental stress that usually comes with it.

But first, let’s clear something up: Letting go is not a quick fix for shifting. It’s not some miracle pill that guarantees success. For some people, yes, letting go is the missing piece. But for others, the real problem isn’t that they need to let go—it’s that they need trust and patience in themselves. And because they’ve been told that “letting go” is the thing to do, they beat themselves up for not being able to do it. When in reality, they were fine all along.

So first of all, figure out if letting go is what you actually need in your journey. If it's not, and you suddenly remember that you’ve found success while holding on, great! If not, let's move on.

So, what does “letting go” actually mean?

A lot of people hear it and think it means quitting, cutting shifting out of their lives, turning away from their DR, walking away completely. And yeah, that is one way to let go. But it’s not the only way. Let’s break it down the different ways there are to let go:

• Letting go of trying to shift – A.K.A what I talked about in this post. You still think of your DR, you still daydream, maybe you meditate at night with no intention to shift, you go about it like you already have it because you do. Stop it. Stop trying to shift.

• Letting go of expectation – You keep doing your methods, you stick to your routine, but you drop the pressure. No more “when will it happen?” You do it just because you enjoy it. You stop putting a deadline on shifting. You let go of when it will happen and just let it unfold.

• Letting go of your DR – You still shift, but you step back from your DR itself. Maybe you try a different DR for fun, maybe you explore WRs or fun, relaxing realities. You turn your focus elsewhere.

• Letting go of shifting itself – You stay in tune with expanding your awareness, but you do this by focusing on lucid dreaming, astral projection, or any other practice for a while. You take the pressure off shifting entirely by trying something new.

• The ‘fuck this shit’ mentality – You throw your hands up and stop giving a damn. Ironically, this one works better than you’d think.

• Letting go of perfection – You don’t need to do everything perfectly, follow every method flawlessly, or maintain some imagined “high vibrational state” 24/7. Stop striving for an ideal and just exist.

• Letting go of comparison – Stop looking at other people who claim to have shifted and measuring yourself against them. Their journey is not yours, and comparison only fuels frustration. Can you imagine driving your car, on the way to go pick up your brand new sport’s car, but you keep looking out the window because someone in the next lane is already driving a sport’s car?? YOU’RE GOING TO CRASH. EYES ON THE ROAD.

• Letting go of guilt – If you feel bad for not shifting yet, for wanting a break, or for feeling stuck, release that guilt. You don’t owe shifting anything. Shifting is you. You don’t owe yourself anything other than peace, trust and love.

• Letting go of attachment to results – Focus on the process rather than the outcome. Enjoy the journey, the experiences, and the growth that come with it. This is the thing I wish I knew at the very start of my journey, not because it would have made me shift faster, but because in hindsight, there’s so much fun in figuring out what works for you, discovering yourself, and the excitement pre-shifting to your DR.

• Letting go of fear – Fear of failure, fear of missing out, fear of doing something wrong, fear of shifting (which warrants another post in itself). Releasing fear allows for a more open, relaxed mindset.

• Letting go of overthinking and self-doubt – Stop analyzing every little thought, feeling, or experience. Your mind doesn’t need to be in constant problem-solving mode. You already know how to shift. You already have your desire/ your desire will manifest in the 3D. You are a creator. You are the god of your reality. If overthinking and stressing out solved anything, no one in the world would have problems.

• Letting go of rules – There are no strict guidelines for shifting. You don’t have to follow what someone else says. Make your own path.

But how do you actually let go?

When you let go, you do so from one of three places: peace, exhaustion, or indifference. To truly let go, you need to lean into one of these.

1. Peace – If what your mind craves is peace, you let go by accepting that your desires are either already yours or inevitably coming. You trust your ability to create and shift, so you stop chasing and start relaxing. Letting go from this state means stepping back, breathing easy, and knowing there’s nothing more you need to do—just be.

"Oh, easier said than done!" Yeah, that’s why we have the next two.

2. Exhaustion – If you’ve reached the point where you’re just tired, use it. Letting go through exhaustion means recognizing that you physically and mentally can’t keep stressing over this anymore. You’ve burned yourself out, and the only thing left to do is stop. Stop trying so hard, stop overthinking, stop forcing. Let yourself collapse into that exhaustion and let go because you have no energy left to hold on.

3. Indifference – This is the "fuck it" approach. Letting go through indifference means deciding that you simply do not care anymore—about shifting, about waiting, about the whole damn thing. Not in a bitter way, not in a frustrated way, just… whatever. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, you’ll be fine. You’ve got a life to live, and you’re not about to waste it worrying over something that isn’t here yet.

No matter which one you lean into, the result is the same: freedom. You stop gripping so tightly. You stop making shifting feel like a desperate struggle. And in that space—wherever you land—letting go happens naturally.

There’s no right or wrong way to let go

Think of it as a spectrum. You let go at your own pace, in a way that feels right for you. Because here’s the truth—holding onto your DR, staying in the cycle of frustration, it hurts. But it’s also comfortable. It’s familiar. And the mind loves familiarity.

Everyone has something different they need to let go of. For some, it’s their attachment to results. For others, it’s the pressure to be perfect. Maybe it’s the need to control the process or the fear of what happens if they succeed. Letting go isn’t a one-size-fits-all solution/It’s about recognizing what is keeping you stuck and unhappy, and making the conscious choice to release it.

So, instead of forcing yourself to drown in the ocean of your desire, because you thought throwing youself in would force yourself to know how to shift, just grab a floatie. You already know how to swim. You just have to remember, and until you do, relax and let go.

[owensbabygirl]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 °●.○•°●.. 𝐌.𝐒

warnings: smut, heavy?-plot, kissing, cursing, counter- unprotected sex, p in v, pet names (baby), marking up, tell me if there's more. dividers by @issysh3ll

english is not my first language.

the sound of the spiraling mixer kept humming in the background as you added the eggs into the batter, the thick mixture looks almost cartoon-ish to your eyes.

you couldn't sleep, no matter how much you tried to turn and find the cooler side of the pillow, your eyes won't rest, your cold, goosebumped dermis won't stop sending shivers through you, keeping you awake until the late hours of the night.

it was annoying since it wasn't the first time this happened; it's the third night in a row that you needed to take a pill to sleep, which didn't really halped either.

such as matt, but he was more used to it, it was like his little nightly routine. he was scrolling endlessly on his phone, and when that became boring- he threw himself over the couch and watched some trashy action movies from the 80s.

it wasn’t hard to hear the fake gunshots and overly dramatic grunts coming from the TV. when you turned to the other side again, the flickering light seeped through the small crack in the door.

you slid out the sheets, walking out the door to see matt sitting there, casually man-spreading on the couch. "why are you up?" he asked while you walked closer to sit next to him. "couldn't sleep," you exhaled, leaning your head on his chest, your eyes relaxing a bit from his calm breathing.

you sure 'bout that? kid u're almost droolin' over me" matt observed, wrapping his hand around your shoulder as he brought you closer to him "I know" you whined "I'm so tired but I just can't sleep".

matt stayed quiet, continued looking around the house until his eyes locked on it, the little recipe book collecting dust in the corner of the kitchen. "you hungry?" he queried, you looked up at him, where did that come from? "hungry?" you repeated questionly. "it's a yes or no question".

that wasn't wired, but the way he said it- he didn't asked, he knew what he wanted. you shifted away from his chest to sit properly. "what were you thinking 'bout?".

you didn't know how that happened, how you ended up getting ingredients out the fridge on fucking 3am to make blueberry muffins, "" matt licked his lips while looking at the blend.

"y'know, you could help making instead staring at it," you said as you took the baking pan and other ingredients out the drawer, by the time you set then all up you still heard no answer, not hearing anything actually, matt was quiet, too quiet. "matt,...matt?....matt!?"

"yeah" he muttered quietly, his mind too focused on the way the blueberries sank into the dough, not hearing that this is the third time you called for his name

"are you eve- MATT!" You groned, taking a small amount of flour in your hand and throwing it in his face, giggling softly to yourself.

"UAH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled, taking a step back as he tried to get rid of the white powder scattered all over his face.

(charli xcx sneezed on him type shit)

"Come on matt" you continued giggling. "it's not that bad." "are you fucking kidding me!? YOU GOT IT IN MY EYES!" he angered, blinking a little to see what's around him. He wanted to slid that off and laugh, but when you continued tittering and pointed out at him, he needed to give back.

He looked around, he saw the flour, but it was too boring to "revange" the same way, but then he saw the blueberries, those old, sweet, skin sticking blueberries.

Before you could even say something or hide he grabbed then in his hand and threw then all over you, the little fruits hitting your face and body, their purple-y juice splashing all over you amd made your skin be so...sticky.

You let out a gasp and looked up to meet his eyes "oh you are so dead" you smirked, amd within a second, both of you held random components and started to throw them on each other.

All of matt’s hair went shiny from oil and yours looked like it aged a few years from the flour. Since you also forgot to turn the mixer off, the batter became overloaded and chunks of dough flew out and got sticked on you two, and the walls, and the counters, and the drawers, and the floor, and everything.

Both of you quickly rushed to turn it off, your pasty skins touching which made matt let out a disgusted giggle, and when he turned the mixer off, you both just bursted out in laughter for all what just happened, standing there, gross then ever, as matt hugged your waist and you balanced yourself with a hand on his upper chest.

You took a few steps back to lean against the island counter, matt still hugging you as the laughs started to fade. It was fun, sure- but matt couldn't give up without saying the last word.

So after you thought this whole "fight" was over, you heard an egg crack, and before you coukd understand why matt smiled this wildly, you felt this disgusting, nauseating texture of the raw egg sliding down your head and back, which made you whine an "ewwwugh".

You threw your head back, trying to make it slide away faster, you didn't gave back, you knew you practically started all this so this is your payment, but whike you did so, matt just kept smiling. "who's laughing now, huh?" He teased.

Lowering your head, now level with his eyes as you sighed. "Matt, you need to learn when to shut up."

"Oh really? Look who's talking, " he remarked, moving his hands up from your waist to the back of your neck, pulling you closer with that knowing smirk.

You leaned closer too, so close that you could feel his warm breath, but not enough to close the gap between your faces. You knew this was another some kind of a game, of who is going to give in first, matt alwyes liked that shit, but you weren't to give in, not now.

Just like you knew about this game, matt knew you won't give in. So if you won't give in for a kiss, you would give in for something else.

Matt hauled down his head, letting his tongue lick the spurts of blueberry juice who sticked there from beforehand

"m-matt, what are you doing?" You probed.

this was from the kinds of things matt didn't like, or did he? He never really tried to do (so-called) wired things, but now when he did, it didn't look like he was going to stop any sooner.

He gently tilted your head, his hands holding you in a more firm grip to keep you in place. There was a moment of pause, like he wanted to sevor the intimate moment, and then, he pressed his lips harder at that spot, his teeth grazing it.

He continued to nip the poor, bitten spot. matt knew you so well, he knew how you acted even when his eyes were closed. He knew you wouldn't want to show you needs, show how much you wanted him.

You bit your lip to quiet the little mewls you wanted to let out so bad, but matt knew better, he moved one hand who held you in place and blindly searched for your lips, bringing his finger to part your lips just at the right time to hear that little whine rolling off your tongue. You tilted your head desperately to the side, exposing more of your neck for him.

"fuck I love blueberries" matt whispered to your ear, but it sounded like he more said to himself.

While you were "busy" tagging your hands in his hair and pull him closer, matts hands lowred to hold your hips, gripping them tightly. He cut the contect with your neck, moving to nip the other side of your neck as he lifted you up and set you on the surprisingly clean part of the counter, not daring to look up at your eyes.

Desperation was at the highest, hands gripping on his hair as your head was fully thrown back right now. Your legs wrapping around him- pulling him closer, needing him close as possible.

Once matt had you where he wanted, he slipped his hands under your top, his cold hands touching your now heated skin- making you hiss a little, but you couldn't give a fuck less. The top quickly found itself thrown on the floor.

Matt wasn't any less desperate- if not more. He couldn't let go of your touch, so he grabbed your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he clumsily unbuckled his belt with his other, eager to feel you.

Unbuttoning his jeans and taking them with his boxers down to his ankles. Matt kept kissing you, you parted your lips farther and drew his face nearer. your thumbs caressing his cheeks to feel the thick bristles, matt's tongue darted into your mouth as you opened your mouth further for him, his tongue immediately going to explore the inside of your mouth. He could feel his mind growing fuzzy with desire and need for you.

Now when kept his face in place and his hands were free he lifted your hip with one hand to take your pants and underwear off from one side and then from the other, throwing the clothes to wherever.

He brought one hand to stroke his aching, tip leaking cock. He wanted to tease you to make you say how much you were trobbing to feel him in you- but couldn't.

The sight of you leaning your forehead against his, dark, now doe eyes staring to his soul, was too much.

He gave no warnings- but singed when he gripped your hip tighter before you felt him inside of you, you letting out a mix of a gasp and a moan as you buried your head in his neck, your hand gripping on his shirt.

Matt's eyes widened as he first felt himself swollen deep in you, exhaling loudly as hus chest raised and falled from over pulse. It felt like something snapped inside of him and all the gentle, feather-light touches were gone.

He trusted into you, his dick being pressed from all sides just the right way. "you feel...fuck...so good" he panted, his hands moving to grip your ass, nails digging at it as his hips slapped against your own, your body bouncing as he picked up the pace.

matt smiled when he saw how quiet you were, gripping on his shoulders and biting your cheek to not let out any sound, honestly, it was amusing for him. "c'mon baby, let me hear you"

all you could let out was a little hum, you knew that your body was going betray you if you'll open your mouth. "let me hear you now or I'll stop." matt demanded, his pace slowing down each trust.

"mm...no!" you mewled "please matt, don't stop."

"why? you want this, huh? go on then baby, say how much you want it" he grunted, his slow trusts pacing up when he saw you freeing your head out his neck "please matt, please" you pined.

"yeah...yeah say m' name name like that" he teased, his hands once again sliding up to find your waist, clutching on it as he trusted into your gloppy walls, and fast, really fast, so much that you couldn't moan to the feeling of him touching a spot since he already touched another delicate one.

a following whimper rolled off your tongue, your legs around him encouraging him to get closer, you needed more. more touch, more of his dick, more.

as much as matt wanted to look up to see your desperate, eager eyes. he couldn't stop staring at your tits, how they bounced so hard theat they almost fell out your bra, like they called for his name.

his hands moved up from your waist to your torso as he lowred his head, shoving his face between them. you reached you a hand to take the bra off but matt pushed it away, he liked how they were put together, so close that matt could just feel his stubble scratching them.

"mm...fuck, so good." you moaned, his lips biting the area around your nipple, leaving a few marks in their awake.

you smiled, your fingers holding on his messed up hair as he worshipped your body, but the ego boost didn't last long when matt lifted you up and set you on your ass instead of the back of your thighs, the new angle letting him hit other cushioned spot "uh-uh fuck....oh my....shiiit" matt moaned.

"matt...f-fuck I'm so close" your eyes rolled back and mouth parted to get more air into your lungs. "me too, hold it." he urged, trusting faster if that was even possible.

"fuck please please please" you begged, even that you didn't knew why for. your moans becoming more frequently, and when matt looked down on the base of his cock he saw the knot of your stomach already started to form. "oww...god, look at that" he admired.

your nails digged to his back through his shirt, dragging them down in a hopeless try to let some of the pressure out. "matt please...aw my god!" his hips pressed against you a few more times before your body clinged to his body, your legs shaking as your release crushed out of you in tender waves.

"fuck" you mewled loudly, matt's climax not far behind. his hips shivred seconds later as he came into your flattering walls, groaning as your pussy milked him dry. your panted, your breathing coming in short pants as he held you close, letting the high wash away from him.

matt stayed still for a few moments before moving his hands to cup your face "you're good? didn't hurt or anything, right?" he asked, a little hint of worry in his eyes "no..that was...it was good." you breathed out.

"well lets get cleaned up...literally, your hair still has that egg smell on it" matt teased "well your hair is full of oil too" you teased back.

yall I wrote this when I was stoned lmao this is just too cute to keep it to myself, reblog if you liked it ig, love yall ass cheeks thx for reading♡