#you have no idea how happy i was when i saw that i am your secret santa

[justtheclippy]

I know you get a lot of asks but I’m sending this because I just saw your tags about “ruining prints” and NO! You have no idea how giddy I was when I realized you doodled that on MY PRINT! I am gonna cherish that thing forever I was so happy. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen

Are you sure? Perhaps you wear glasses and need an updated prescription? Or do you just collect eldritch abominations in your free time for fun? 🤭🤭🤭

I am genuinely so happy that you liked it, makes me feel much better about my crimes against the concept of art itself I commited with that marker.

[betweenthescarletmoon]

hello fellow mutual from tiktok!!! I am so happy to see you put your thoughts here, i feel it was much harder for us to discuss jayce over there!

I agree with everything you said. A fourth act would've worked wonders for Every Character, not just him. And it does anger me so much that Jayce wasn't seen nor Written as a profound character because of s1. I wish i could have a talk with Christopher Linke about this

The idea that people can only like characters because they're attractive to lessen the load of digesting media is imo most likely the Editing Effect of inatagram and tiktok. It pains me to say but i do wonder if arcane came out by the time we as a generation watched AMVs and 7min edits on youtube instead (or at least i did). Maybe then people would have more profound thoughts on all the characters, including Vi, Jinx, Silco, Mel. And i am glad we can discuss things more over here, but it's still not as common to discuss and analyze as it used to be either.

You've mentioned one of my biggest gripes with fandom interpretation in the cave, WHO would debate bisexuality when they have nothing left but the crumbling inner workings of their mind, building the last comfort it can?? Thank you, i really like the idea that he also found himself resenting them, that is actually a much closer observation to how he Looks at them. I truly like that transition from his tears (which represent his old, vulnerable, sweet self) to that colder bitterness that guides him for the rest of the season (until we get the ending, which from a character narrative standpoint, doesn't make sense to me tbh).

Here's the thing, I've also placed myself in the difficult position of liking those thirst edits, saving them in a folder called "thirst traps" to keep them apart from my Real Jayce Folder, laughing at some of the "why trauma jayce kinda" and the like...while also deep down just feeling so empty and sad about it but feeling like there was nothing i could do about it? I don't wanna be dramatic but it Felt isolating. And maybe it does make me a hypocrite! Conformity and yadda yadda, but i cannot imagine that Jayce was designed to not be hot. I believe that was fully intentional, but i also thought that they were prioritizing his character. When i first saw act 2, i didn't know his agency would be obliterated and his arc ripped from his hands to place it solely on Viktor's. So now it feels even worse, that That is what the writers used him for too. And people are completely fine with it! They're so happy about the soulmates.

Your observations about him not stopping and being stuck in survival mode bring me clarity fr. He's never truly been a man about rest, was he? Perhaps that was his main trauma response all along, sacrificing sleep and Academy grades to get Hextech running, almost killing himself the moment he felt he lost it. Of course he'd do that at a more extreme level, but because act 3 doesn't rest or let the story breathe, i frankly didn't interpret it as that, it just felt like he conveniently stopped being mentally ill to give a speech and fight the war 😂 if he survived, he probably wouldn't have stopped, because stopping meant that PTSD would rear its ugly head. But the tragedy of it all Was that he died. Saving the world yes, but it feels so empty and cruel that he suffered so much just to die. No real accomplishment or meaning, just him serving the narrative and saving Viktor.

PS : i adore viktor i really do but it's getting hard not to resent him bc of what the writers did to butcher him, and how they stripped jayce of everything he was outside of him. I still love him! I promise!

And mutual! If you wanna keep talking in DMs you are welcome to!!

Random Thoughts on the Arcane Fandom about Jayce

this is gonna be a mess but I have nowhere else to talk about this.

I've recently noticed how Jayce Talis has been subjected to all kinds of sexualization since the drop of Act 2 of the second season. People have mentioned many times how trauma has made him "hot". A good and well-known example of this is Danny Motta's reaction to episode 5, where he said, "Holy shit, they made Jayce hot! [...] My dude went from looking like a Muppet to the king of Rohan, and all it took was a little bit of trauma."

This isn't entirely new for him? If people didn't hate Jayce back in S1, they ogled him in the scene where he works on the Forge shirtless, which IS kinda the point because the animators are making him very obviously attractive. But most importantly, he as a character has been reduced to his sexual or romantic relationships since the beginning of time.

It seems that S2 is a response to this in a way. His arc from the ending of S1, where he took responsibility of his actions out of guilt for the child he killed, was slightly set aside for Viktor. Well, ALL of his life, dreams, decisions, everything about him was eclipsed by Viktor's shadow because of the whole "all times, all possibilities" twist. He wasn't expected to show up as a Councilor in any of the meetings, and we must assume he quits at some point, but he surely hasn't resigned from his position by the time Viktor wakes up. Apart from that much needed scene between him and Cait, and the one where he attends the memorial (and is attacked by a vengeful mother), we don't see many of his decisions or what leads him to make them, other than Viktor. This is beautiful in a way because we can SEE how it is a trauma response to losing him. He is obsessive by nature, and he clings to what keeps him and his loved ones safe excessively, but I still had to do a bit of mental gymnastics as to why he went back on the second promise: to not build Hextech weapons again. (Hint: it has to do with the fact that VI saved him with HIS weapon, but it went so fast it's hard to process in the first watch.)

Now back to the sexualization problem. Every time I look up his name and trauma, or PTSD, 95% of the results are thirst edits on Tiktok about how hot he is. No joke. One of the more serious results is my own edit. Of course, a lot of people connect with his suffering without naming it as trauma, and that is great. My concern is that there has been so much focus on Jinx's trauma, Viktor's trauma, even Silco's trauma (which are all valid and fascinating to explore), but there's less attention for other characters who clearly show how their own traumatic experiences has shaped them. Vi, Caitlyn, and Jayce are some of the clearest examples of this, and they've experienced some truly heinous things in the show. Trauma cannot be compared, ever. But why is it that Jayce, who lived through an apocalypse that HE knows HE caused, and lives in complete isolation except the "company" of metal watchers, to the point that he loses touch with reality, and is changed so irrevocably that he loses the naivety and starry-eyed optimism that has always defined him...is seen as hot? And more importantly, why is it that there is very little attention to his experiences on that cave? Every scene between him and Viktor is uploaded in 1080 HD quality, but the scenes of him alone? Fighting to survive? Showing remarkable resilience in the face of his suffering? No, that's not as fun. Not a single one of those scenes is uploaded fully, and I have checked many times. (Some people have actually skipped those scenes to focus on Timebomb. I'm...)

I went online and looked up "why do people sexualize traumatized characters" because let's face it, it's real, it's interesting, and I cannot judge or else I am a hypocrite. Bucky Barnes, Loki, Ellie Williams, Dean Winchester, Vi herself, the list goes on much longer but I can't think of others off the top of my head. We connect with their suffering, and we are pulled by their experiences.

However, Jayce is such a complicated case because he is usually thought of as the greedy himbo that fumbled two baddies, or the confused bisexual, or the guy who lost it because of a situationship (much like Vi, who DID NOT lose it because of a failed romantic endeavor bfr). And then the plot goes and tells us, "Actually, yeah, his life outside of Viktor doesn't matter, he's not even supposed to be alive, because Viktor saved him. All of time is completely inextricable from Viktor." People hate meljay because she manipulated him and "trapped" him in a relationship or something, only to celebrate it when something suspiciously similar happens with the male romantic interest? I initially thought it was beautiful too, bc Soulmates, but man. Mage!Viktor really left the man he loved to rot in complete isolation, eating raw reptiles until throwing up, losing his mind. Say what you want about the allegory for Viktor's life, at least Viktor's isolation was metaphorical up until the Glorious Evolution.

Despite us being shown this, people make thirst edits of him in his black fit, and fighting with sexual tension with Viktor. I fear...that I am the only one who finds this tragic. The man forced to create a larger than life persona to sell his work and be seen as an attractive pawn of the system, has become the attractive pawn of the narrative. Viktor's narrative.

Perhaps Viktor was forgotten by the world. But Jayce's kind heart, and brave soul, were forgotten by us.

Just some thoughts to chew about my favorite character and my wish that more people focused on his arc with me

[wlwsoccerfics]

Didn't expect that! (Arsenal WomenXCatleyReader)

Summary: you are nowhere to be found on the Arsenal training grounds. Your mom is worried. you are not the only one missing though...

Steph, your Mom walked into the changing room, looking around. "Has anyone seen y/n?" She asked.

"No, last time i saw her was at lunch!" Kyra replied. Everyone agreed that this was the last time they have seen you.

"Willa might know more." Caitlin replied.

Katie and Caitlin looked around for their daughter Willa because the two of are like best Friends. Only for them to notice that she was gone as well.

"okay this Is weird! She isn't here either!" Katie answered.

Kyra texted you & Willa.

"i texted them. Maybe they will reply." Kyra stated.

"how did we manage to lose both Arsenal Babies?" Leah asked.

"i have no idea! But drills start in 10 minutes so we better go find them!" Caitlin replied. Steph was worried right now since it was your first Training back after you were out for a week due to a concussion.

"yes let's find them. I Hope y/n is okay. What If she had a dizzy spell? Could be a late aftermath of her concussion!" Steph told the team.

"let's not think about that right now! I am sure both of them are okay!" Lia replied.

They were in the middle of forming groups and talking about which group was gonna Look in which area of the Training grounds. Before they could even start searching Reneé walked in with Y/n & Willa. Both of them were blushing like crazy and wearing the other ones Training top. Which was visible due to Willa sporting y/n's number on the from and vice versa.

"i assume you guys are looking for these two." The Arsenal Coach said y she couldn't help but smile slightly.

The Team stared at them.

"Baby McFoord is making out with my sister!" Kyra answered in shock. Everyone else was staring at the two youngest Team members. The two were 16 years old.

"y/n Lilith Catley! Where have you been? And why are you and Willa wearing eachothers clothes?" Steph wanted to know. Not that she couldn't put two and two together hut she wanted to hear it from you.

You were trying your best to avoid eye contact with everyone but especially your mom. Before you could say anything Caitlin spoke up.

"i can't believe you two are wandering off to...do whatever this Is!" She said and sighed softly.

"what even is this?" Katie wanted to know.

"we are a couple!" Willa explained.

"it's true. We have been together for six months!" You admitted.

"and your hormones are all over the place so the two of you made out at work..." Katie stated.

"i think we need to talk about boundaries with you girls!" Steph told you.

"Like no closed doors during sleepovers for example!" Caitlin answered and sighed softly.

Beth looked at the three moms.

"maybe you Guys Talk to your daughters about that after practice!" She suggested. Lia nodded her head in agreement.

"i agree with Beth. The poor girls don't need their entire business Out in the Open to the entire Team! They are allowed some privacy!" Lia answered. You and Willa both looked at them. Silently mouthing 'thank you' at the two.

"okay..let's do some drills, Girls!" Reneé said, she was still standing in the doorway. "After Training the parenting can continue!" She told the team.

Drills were a good distraction and you really enjoyed doing them. You always liked drills but especially now because you could avoid talking to your mom about all the new rules and about Willa. This was probably gonna be worse then the sex talk your Mom gave you when you were 14 years old.

A few hours later you were Home, sitting on the couch. Your mom sitting next to you. Her hand on your knee.

"y/n, i am happy that you found someone you care about so deeply, but i don't want you to sneak around with her behind my back." She told you.

Kyra walked over and sat down as well.

"we are so disappointed in you!" She told you, grinning softly. She tried to take the piss out of you and you knew it.

"funny!" You replied and jumped up from the couch wanting to jump on her.

"y/n! Kyra! Stop!" Your mom answered. You and Kyra often act like siblings. She often stayed over, like she did today.

It took a while before you continued the talk. You promised Steph not to sneak around with Willa anymore & that there would be no sleepover without supervision anymore. Which meant no closed doors. You agreed on the rules. Cause it wasn't like you had a choice.

The next day before Training was interesting. Cause you were sitting in one of the conference rooms with your Mom, Caitlin, Katie & Willa. Having the talk again.

"so we agree on the rules?" Katie asked. You looked at Willa. Biting down on your bottom lip. It wasn't like you had much of a say there.

"uh you guys don't leave us much of a choice!.it's not what we want!" Willa answered with a sigh escaping her lips.

Caitlin gave her daughter a look that was filled with surprise because Willa barely spoke up. Which sure was unexpected given that she was Katies daughter. Katie always stood up for herself and the team.

"so what do you want?" Caitlin wanted to know.

"freedom! We don't want you Guys to watch us like Hawks! It's not like we can get pregnant or anything! We are very Safe with our bodies and minds! We just want to have a normal relationship. Like Teenagers have! Our Jobs are already quite unique! So at least let us have a normal relationship. Let us be Teenagers! Let us make mistakes!" You finshed off your rant.

Your mom looked really impressed, so did Katie and Caitlin. And Willa looked really proud of you.

"fine. but please be careful! Don't do anything risky!" Caitlin replied.

"don't get arrested for example! It's what she means!" Steph said and sighed softly. "I hate seeing my Baby so grown Up! It's hard for me!" Your mom admitted.

"i will always be your Baby, Mom. No matter what!" You let her know and got up to hug her. She hugged you back. You talked a little more before getting ready for practice.

[canirove]

Canary boy | Chapter 11

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Tuesday)

Masterlist

“Happy birthday!”

“Bloody hell!” Pedri yells when he walks into the kitchen.

“Oh my God, did you see his face?” Fer laughs. 

“We all did” their dad says, also laughing.

“My sweet boy” Pedri's mum says, hugging him. “I'm sorry we scared you.”

“It's ok, don't worry. But what is that thing in your heads?”

“Birthday hats!” Fer says. “Inés’ idea.”

“What?” Pedri says, looking at me.

“I saw them yesterday while running some errands and thought it would be cute” I shrug.

“Spider-Man birthday hats?” he smirks, knowing perfectly well why I had picked them.

“Yeah” I shrug again, trying really hard to hide my smile.

“She also bought this for you” Fer says, putting an “it's my birthday” crown on his head. 

“Seriously, Inés?”

“We are a family. We all have to look ridiculous” Fer says. “Now come here. Let's take a photo with the birthday boy before we start eating, have to leave to open the bar and forget about it.”

“I am the one who won't forget about this” Pedri whispers in my ear when I move to stand next to him, his arm around my waist.

“Oh, stop complaining. You look cute.”

“No one can look cute with this in their heads, Inés.”

“You do” I smile. 

“Lovebirds, I need you to look at the camera” Fer says while setting his phone on the table, suddenly making me very aware of the fact that we are in front of their parents. “Perfect” he says before moving to where we all are standing. “Say, Pepi!”

“Pepi!” we all repeat before Fer’s phone takes a bunch of photos.

“I'm killing him” Pedri whispers again.

“Can you please stop complaining? It's your birthday… Pepi” I say with a teasing smile.

“You know, when you say it it actually sounds better” he says while squeezing my waist, the feeling sending a wave of heat through my body that should not be allowed this early in the morning.

“Ok, let's sit down. We don't want our breakfast to get cold” his mum says. “Inés, here” she says, moving a chair for me.

“Thank you” I manage to say, Pedri giving my side one last squeeze before letting go of me. For now. Because he sits (or his mum makes him sit) next to me, his hand moving under the table from time to time and resting on my thigh, sometimes just staying there and others squeezing it, making staying still almost impossible. 

“Inés, are you ok?” his mum had said after the first squeeze and my little jump, one that made me kick the table.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hit the table while crossing my legs” I had smiled, slapping Pedri's hand under the table and making him laugh.

━━━━━━��━━━━━━

“Presents time!” Fer announces once we have finished having breakfast. “Who wants to go first?”

“I will. This is from me and dad” their mum says, giving Pedri a big package.

“Thank you” he smiles while opening it. “Mum, is this…”

“It isn't my photo album, don't worry” she chuckles. “I found this one doing some cleaning a few weeks ago, turns out that I had bought the same one twice. And I thought, why don't I fill it with the same photos the other one has so Pedri can take it to Barcelona with him and check it every time he misses us?”

“Mum, I… This… You even wrote the same things under each photo!”

“My comments are the best part, they had to be there.”

“I love it, mum” Pedri says, getting up from his chair and hugging her. “I love you. And you too, dad.”

“We love you too” he smiles. 

“God, mum. Now my present and Inés’ are gonna look like shit” Fer says.

“Sorry” she shrugs.

“Ok, my turn” he says. “This isn't something as cute as mum and dad's present, but I think you will like it.”

“We'll see…” Pedri says, unwrapping the box I went to pick up yesterday. “Fer!” he gasps. “Did you… Oh my God, Fer!” 

“Were saying?” their mum chuckles while Pedri inspects the sneakers Fer has gotten him, the biggest smile ever on his face. I think I had never seen anyone smile like that because of a pair of shoes. Not even Carla, and she loves shoes. 

“Do you like them?”

“I love them. How did you manage to find them? I've been looking for them everywhere” Pedri says.

“One has his contacts” he smirks.

“I freaking love them, Fer. Thank you” Pedri says, getting up again and hugging his brother.

“Then I guess my present is the one that will look like shit” I sigh.

“Inés, you've given me the best present ever by allowing me to be here today with my family” Pedri says, taking my hand on his and giving it a squeeze.

“Yeah, well…” I say, feeling my cheeks on fire. “I still got you something” I say, giving him my present. Or presents since there were two.

“Which one do I open first?” 

“The one with the blue wrapping paper.”

“Ok” he smiles, carefully opening it to not ruin it. “No way!” he laughs.

“More Spider-Man?” Fer says. ��What do you two have going on with that? First the hats, and now… an apron?”

“I saw it yesterday and couldn't help myself.”

“I love it, Inés” Pedri laughs again. “What do you think, mum? Should I wear this at the bar?”

“Yeah… no” she says, making everyone laugh.

“I'll keep it for special occasions, then” Pedri says before opening his other present. “What… Inés.”

“Another one?” Fer asks with an even more confused look than before. 

“This is the nice apron. One you can wear when you come over to my place and cook for me, for example” I say.

“Oh, so this gift also is for you” Pedri smirks. “You want me to properly look like a chef.”

“Maybe” I shrug, my cheeks back to being on fire.

“She even got your name embroidered on it” his mum points out. 

“I love it, Inés” Pedri says. “I love both of them. I can't wait to be back in Barcelona and wear them while making you dinner after a game.”

“That sounds like a date” Fer giggles.

“Oh, shut up!” Pedri says, giving him a little push before moving to where I am. “Thank you, Inés.”

“You're welcome” I smile as I stand up and hug him. 

“Looking forward to our date” he whispers in my ear. 

“Same” I whisper back.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“But wait, if Inés is a football player… Does that make you a wag?”

“Oh my God!” one of Pedri's friends laughs.

“What? Isn't that how they call the footballers’ partners?”

“Wag stands for wives and girlfriends. Pedri is a boyfriend. So he would be a…”

“Bah” he says.

“What?”

“Boyfriends and husbands. Bah” he shrugs, making everyone laugh.

After having breakfast with his parents and Fer, we met with his childhood friends, and I honestly don't know who was more nervous about it, me or him. But we actually had nothing to worry about, because the moment he introduced us, we instantly clicked and it felt as if we had known each other for as long as he has known them. And even though we tried to explain to them many times that we weren't dating, that we were just friends, it was like talking to a wall like had happened with his family the day before.

“You don't know how many times we've teased him about you having a crush on him, Inés” one of his friends said. “All those Instagram likes? You couldn't be any louder.”

“And we knew he fancied you too” another one added. “He has always liked football, but I have never seen him so invested in it as when you play.”

“So we just knew it was bound to happen. He just had to see the light and say goodbye to Barbie nurse.”

Barbie nurse was the nickname they had for Nerea. A couple of them had met her while visiting him in Barcelona, and neither of them had liked the other.

So here we are now after an amazing meal they organized to celebrate Pedri's birthday (birthday cake with candles included), laughing and chatting while playing card games, the people at the restaurant definitely wondering when the hell we are going to leave.

“Both sound bad, but I think I'm sticking to calling you Inés’ wag” his friend says.

“Should we drink to that?” another one asks.

“I think we'll have to save that drink for my next visit” Pedri says.

“What? Why?”

“Inés and I are leaving tomorrow morning, and there is a place I haven't shown her yet.”

“A place? What place?” I ask.

“A very special one” he winks. Why does he have to do that in front of people who will notice my face turning bright red? Why? Aaahhh!

“Oh, I know where he is taking you!” one of his friends giggles. “Sunset?” she asks him.

“Sunset” he smiles.

“Urgh, you are gonna love it, Inés. You'll see.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And?”

“I love it” I smile. 

I've seen many sunsets over the years, Barcelona has some of the best. But none of them compares to this one. It is like someone has painted it, the colours being so vibrant despite being almost winter that they don't feel real. 

“I can tell” Pedri chuckles.

“What?”

“Your face, Inés. You have it written all over it.”

“That I'm loving this?” I laugh.

“Yep. Here it says I” he says, writing the letter on my cheek with his finger, my skin burning where he has touched me. “Here love” he continues, now writing the word on my forehead. “And here it” he says, moving his finger over my other cheek. “I love it.”

“Uhm.” That's the only thing I'm able to say. Uhm. 

“This has been an almost perfect birthday, you know?”

“Almost?” I manage to say, my face still trying to recover from his touch.

“Almost. Because for it to be perfect, there is one thing that needs to happen, and it can't without your permission.”

“My… what?” 

“May I kiss you, Inés?” Pedri says, moving his whole body to face me, his fingers back to caressing my cheek.

“You… I…” I'm collapsing. My brain has shut down. My body has forgotten how to move, what it has to do. 

Because Pedri has just asked me if he can kiss me. 

Oh… my God.

“That's all I need for this birthday to be perfect, Inés. To finally kiss you.”

To finally kiss you. Finally. He's said finally, which means he has wanted to kiss me before and…

“May I?” he whispers, moving closer. “I'm gonna need you to say it, Inés. A nod isn't enough” he smirks when that's the only thing I'm able to do. Just nod. Because he wants to kiss me in case you hadn't heard. Pedri wants to kiss me.

“Yes” I whisper, my voice sounding so low I can barely hear it myself.

“Louder, Inés” he says, his lips brushing against mine.

“Yes. Kiss me, Pedri” I say. How have those words left my mouth? I wish I knew. 

“My pleasure” he smiles before kissing me. 

Finally.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Wait, let me… There we go” Pedri says after closing the door of his house with his foot while I just giggle. “Where were we? Oh, yes. Kissing” he smirks before pushing me against the wardrobe and more than kissing me… devouring me.

Back at the spot where we watched the sunset it had all been soft and kind of shy kisses, but the moment we made it to his building and the doors of the lift closed, the kisses turned into fire, passion, need. And bloody hell. 

“Pedri… Pedri!” I gasp when he bites my neck. “I have training tomorrow when we make it back to Barcelona, behave yourself.”

“Sorry” he says against my skin, sending waves of heat everywhere. “But I can't help myself, Inés. I can't” he says, pushing me a bit more against the wardrobe. That wardrobe.

“Aren't you scared?”

“Scared of what? Of being caught? I already told you my parents and Fer won't be home until midnight at least, today they close late. But if you want to stop...”

“No, no. I meant if you aren't scared of what is behind me.”

“What?” he says, lifting his head from my neck to look at me. 

“The wardrobe, Pedri” I say, trying really hard to not smile… and failing.

“The… Fer?” 

“Yep.”

“I'm killing him. I swear I am.”

“Don't be mad at him” I say, moving my fingers up and down his neck. “I think it's cute.”

“Yeah, well. Cute isn't what I want you to be thinking about right now.”

“Then what do you want me to think about?”

“My lips on yours” he says before kissing me. “And my hands all over you. Touching you, caressing you… or doing this” he says before lifting me in the air.

“Pedri!” I giggle again as I wrap my legs around him.

“What? Thought I couldn't carry you because I'm on the small side?” he smirks as he walks us to his room.

“I've seen your arms. I knew you were able to do it” I smirk back.

“And this is just the beginning of all the things I can do” he says, the way he looks at me when he says it making me melt in his arms. 

Once in his room he doesn't bother to close the door. He just walks straight into his bed, letting me fall on it before taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt all in one go since they get tangled together. Though I don't mind it, because it allows me to see him properly and… Dear lord. I had not noticed he had those V shaped things on his hips that have always driven me crazy when I see them on a man and…

“Liking what you see?” he smirks before joining me in the bed.

“Very…” much. That's what I would have liked to say if he hadn't stopped me with a kiss, one that almost leaves me out of breath.

“So many clothes…” he says as he moves his hands under my jumper. “We must do something about it.”

“What… Pedri!” I laugh when he lifts me up, sitting me on his lap. 

“Arms up… Good girl” he smirks when I do as he says. “This is so nice…” he says, his finger following the shape of my bra. “Did you pick it thinking of me?”

“You wish” I reply with a teasing smile. Oh, wow. Who is this woman? Though maybe I did pack my best underwear for this trip, the one that is all lace and that according to Carla leaves no room for imagination. 

“Rude” Pedri says before pushing me down on the bed again and going back to his kisses. First it is my jaw, then my neck, one shoulder, the other… And then he starts moving down on my chest until he is kissing me between my boobs, the feeling making me gasp. But he doesn't stop there. He keeps going down, taking his time until he makes it to the hem of my jeans. “Again, Inés, too many clothes. May I?” he asks, his chin resting under my belly button.

“You may” I manage to say.

“Then bottoms up” he says, making me laugh as I lift my hips, allowing him to easily get rid of my jeans and shoes. “You are so beautiful, Inés.”

“Thank you” I whisper. He is now kneeling at the end of the bed, his eyes slowly scanning my body while I try to remember how you are supposed to breathe.

“Beautiful” he repeats, lifting one of my legs and starting to kiss my ankle, my calf, the inside of my knee. “Every inch of you is beautiful, Inés.”

And every inch of me is burning because of him. For him.

“Pedri” I gasp when he moves to my other leg and doesn't stop at my knee, as he keeps kissing my inner thigh all the way up. And when I think he is going to kiss me there… He suddenly moves and is back to devouring my mouth, now one of his hands being the one that goes down, his thumb caressing my nipple through the fabric before squeezing my boob and making me moan. And he keeps moving down, caressing my stomach while still kissing me, and then…

“Inés…”

“Yes, you can” I say, not allowing him to ask for permission. I need him to touch me there. 

“Thank you” he smirks. “But first…”

“Pedri!” I complain when he moves his hand to rest next to my head. 

“Patience, Inés. Patience” he says, kissing my nose before lifting me up again and sitting me on his lap. “I'm going back there, but first we need to get rid of this” he says, nodding towards my bra.

“Fine” I sigh. But as I move to unclasp it…

“No” he says, stopping me. “Let me do it.”

“You will do it slowly.”

“I will” he smirks.

“I don't want you to go slow.”

“Are you sure?” he says, moving his hands up my back, his fingers easily unclasping my bra before caressing my shoulder blades. “Doesn't this feel good?”

“It does, but…”

“And this?” he continues, kissing my shoulder and slowly pulling down one strap.

“That too. But Pedri…”

“Shh” he says, doing the same on the other side, my bra leaving my body as he pushes me down on the bed again. 

And the moment I touch the mattress, the gentleness is gone. 

His mouth and tongue are on one of my nipples, his fingers doing the same on the other, and I find myself moaning his name, my body arching against him. 

“Does this feel good, Inés?” he says against my skin as he moves his mouth to my other nipple.

“So good.”

“Told you moving back here would be worth it” he smirks as we lock eyes. And what does he do? He winks. He fucking dares to wink before going back to torturing me. And in response, what do I do? Grab his hair, maybe pulling a bit too hard judging by the way he grunts. But I don't let go. I keep running my hands through it, sometimes pulling a bit. Like when his hand lets go of my boob and starts moving down to where I wanted him earlier.

“Pedri” I gasp when he finally touches me.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, moving until we are face to face.

“Uhm” I nod.

“Use your words, Inés” he teases me.

“Yes. That's what I… fuck” I moan in his mouth when he kisses me again, his fingers still touching me, my hands tangled on his hair as my body stars to lose control. 

“Let me make this be even better” he whispers in my ear, his hands moving to my hips, pulling down what was left of my underwear until I am completely naked in front of him. I'm… holy shit. 

But I don't have too much time to freak out. He's back to being on top of me, to touching me like I wanted him too. Though this time he's adding something else. One of his fingers is going inside me, another following not long after.

“Pedri… Fuck, Pedri.” 

I'm close. I am so close. I can feel it in every single fiber of my body... until I can't take it anymore.

“Are you ok?” he whispers.

“Yeah” I manage to say while catching my breath. That was… Woah. And it was just his fingers. Like… Woah. 

“Do we keep going, then?” he says, brushing his nose against mine. 

“Yes.” 

“Good” he smiles before kissing me again, this time more gently, kind of allowing me to relax before the torture starts again. Though it really doesn't happen. The torture, I mean. This time he is all about caressing my skin and leaving soft kisses, about touching and feeling each other. And when he gets up from the bed to get rid of his joggers and his underwear… “You can look, Inés” he chuckles. 

“Sorry, I just…”

“Gone shy now?” he says with a teasing smile.

“Yep” I reply, my face burning as I try to focus just on his hands, on how they are looking for a condom on his bedside table. But then I start thinking about what those hands and those fingers just did to me and… Bloody hell. If I didn't look too lame by doing it, I would cover myself with the bed sheets and hide from him. 

“It's ok, don't worry” he says once he's finished and has moved back to the bed. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, Inés” he says again, kissing me one last time before his hand goes down to…

“Pedri, wait” I stop him.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I just… I…” C'mon, Inés. You know you can tell him. You know you can. “I… I've never done this and I… I…”

“Inés. Inés, look at me” he says, gently grabbing my chin and making me look him in the eyes, the thing that I was avoiding to do. I know I can trust him, that he isn't a jerk. But he also is a man and… “There is nothing to be ashamed of, Inés.”

“What?”

“It's ok if you've never had sex before. It is nothing to be ashamed of. And if you don't want to do it, if you want me to stop…”

“No!” Woah, that sounded way too eager. “No, I mean… I want to do it, Pedri. With you. I want my first time to be with you.”

“Are you sure?” he says, caressing my chin, my cheek. “I don't mind stopping now, we have all the time in the world to do it.”

“No. I want it. I do. With you.”

“Ok” he smiles. “But you have to use your words, Inés. If you don't like something, or are uncomfortable, or…”

“I will let you know.”

“Promise?”

“I promise” I nod.

“Good girl” he smirks before kissing me.

A kiss that is the opposite of that smile that is all playfulness and cheekiness. A kiss that is the softest and most caring one we have shared yet. 

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 4

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

I am now uploading this fic on AO3 for those who'd prefer to read it there. You can find it here.

TW: Mentions of Death - Jason always talks about his death

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Chapter 4

Tim thought the letters were a stupid idea.

And maybe he had a point, not that Jason asked for his opinion. It was his memorial foundation. He died for the right to set stupid parameters for his scholarships. Besides, it wasn’t like you were the only one to receive a scholarship. He picked two other students from the pool of applicants.

One wanted to be a doctor and work at the Martha and Thomas Wayne clinic in Park Row where she grew up. Another wanted to study law so they could provide pro-bono representation for people who couldn’t afford it. Three scholarships didn’t seem like nearly enough, but it was a step in the right direction. Maybe he’ll expand it to five next year. There was plenty of money in the foundation.

You were the only one he asked for letters from—not because he didn’t want to hear from the other two—he just figured you’d appreciate the parallel to your favorite novel more than they did. Irony was delicious, and it seemed more fitting for a writer.

Or at least, he thought that would be the case.

The new semester started that week, and Jason might have been excited to hear from you. Giddy was a better word, but he had a reputation to consider. He checked the PO box daily in anticipation of your first letter.

The first week passed.

Nothing.

He texted Tim. You’re sure she accepted the scholarship?

His response: Srsly? Get a life.

Rude, but whatever. Tim already confirmed you accepted—several times now. Jason even saw the finished paperwork with your signature (only because Tim wanted him off his back). Asking again wasn’t going to change his answer.

Jason shrugged off his initial disappointment. You would write to him, er, Bruce Wayne next week.

No one paid him any mind as he approached the PO box the following week. He wore street clothes, another variation of joggers and sweatshirts because it was too much effort to figure out his aesthetic as Stephanie had told him. Seriously, he had no idea what the fuck lunarcore was. Unlocking the box, a frustrated growl rumbled in his chest, earning him some startled looks from the postal workers behind the counter.

Empty.

Again.

Maybe he overestimated your appreciation for poetic irony. Or Tim had lied to him about you accepting the scholarship. He always expected Tim to get back at him for the Tower incident one day. Psychological warfare seemed more his speed.

If all of this—you, the Jason Todd Memorial foundation and scholarship—had been a cruel joke, it might be enough to break him.

He grabbed his phone to text him. Halfway through, a notification appeared at the bottom of the text box.

Tiny Tim Drake has notifications silenced.

Jason gritted his teeth and slammed the ‘notify anyway’ button before sending three more texts in quick succession—just to spite him. By the third text, he was notified that it couldn’t be delivered. Jason swore under his breath. The bastard blocked him.

He slammed the door closed, rattling the middle-aged worker who sorted mail in the corner. His fingers curled and uncurled as he breathed through the irritation welling in his chest. Irritation could quickly turn to anger and anger was… well, destructive.

At one point, anger was all he knew. It burned at the center of his chest, hot and bright. He spent so long feeding the flames, and for what? Acting on his violent urges rarely left him satisfied when the smoke cleared.

But there wasn’t always anger. Frustration, certainly. He had been frustrated with the hand he was dealt. Park Row was unkind but he managed to look past the shit and chose happiness instead. Smiling wasn’t a chore. Robin gave him magic—before it was ripped away from him.

If he chose happiness once, Jason believed he could do it again. He just wasn’t sure how.

Jason stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, other passerby parting around him like water around a boulder. These letters. They were supposed to make him happy. He needed to speak with you.

But how?

And as who?

Jason Todd was supposed to be dead—killed abroad in a terrorist attack. A tragic hero in the story Bruce fabricated to hide the truth. A ghost. Nothing more.

The nameless man you met in passing on the subway didn’t know your name, let alone where to find you.

But you knew Red Hood. He knew about the writing program, just not that it had panned out for you.

You even shared the general location of where you lived…

He shook his head to dislodge the plan slowly forming in his head. Getting involved was a bad idea. You didn’t need him meddling any more than he already had.

Jason was intelligent—certainly. One didn’t spend their life tucked between the pages of a book or working for the Batman and not learn a little common sense. He recognized all the different ways this could blow up in his face, and yet…

One last time, he promised himself as he continued toward his apartment. Once he spoke with you, he could move on with his life.

But first, he needed to change.

***

The air cooled significantly with the setting sun, enough to sting his skin as he navigated the rooftops of Park Row. For someone like Jason, who always ran a few degrees hot, it was a welcome change. His footfalls stayed surprisingly light for a man of his stature, not that anyone was around to appreciate it (nor would they have heard him coming until it was too late).

As he closed in on your complex, he counted the windows to find your apartment. His efforts were moot because, well, there you sat on your fire escape with a notebook balanced on your knees. No yellow hoodie this time.

Jason slowed his stride, assessing how best to make his presence known without startling you.

Your gaze shifted up as he reached the edge of the adjacent roof, pinpointing where he hid amid the shadows. He froze. How did you…? You squinted; another hard expression tinged with what he could only describe as morbid amusement.

“Stalking isn’t a good look for you.”

He hopped down to join her on the escape, the iron groaning under his heavy boots. “I’m just checking in to make sure you haven’t gotten into any more trouble.” Even Jason heard how lame that excuse was, especially given you hadn’t been the one to seek out trouble in the first place.

You, of course, called him on it. “Bullshit.”

“Standard protocol,” he insisted, though he sounded less certain.

“I wasn’t aware the Red Hood followed protocol. Doesn’t really seem like your style.” You tapped your pen thoughtfully on your notebook before adding, “You track down every person that you save, weeks after the incident occurred?”

“I happened to see you,” he tried again, grateful that his modulator hid the desperation in his tone, “So, I decided to see how you were doing with the…” He threw up his hands in defeat. “How are you?”

Not even the Red Hood alias saved him from his painfully awkward attempts at small talk. His fingers flexed at his side. He had a nasty habit of fidgeting under pressure, and your discerning gaze stressed him out. You already clocked him as a liar. What was stopping you from connecting the dots between this and everything else?

When you failed to respond in favor of staring at him, he asked, “Do you look at everyone like this?”

You blinked. “Like what?”

“Like the world is out to get you.”

“You saved me from getting mugged the first time we met.”

False. You were trapped with him on a subway while he rambled about books for ten minutes the first time you two crossed paths, but he caught his tongue between his teeth before he admitted it.

“I think I’m allowed to be wary of people, especially when they wear masks and track me down at my home to check in.”

A flush crept down his neck. “Noted. This is weird, isn’t it.”

“A little weird,” you agreed.

“If it counts for anything, I’m aware that I'm not very good at this,” he admitted.

Your expression softened. “Or maybe I’m being a little harsh. I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m a little overwhelmed right now.”

“Why?”

“For starters, the semester started two weeks ago?”

Jason jumped at the opportunity to talk about your classes. “Does that mean you got a scholarship?”

“That’s the other part. I did. It’s a Wayne Foundation scholarship. Real niche, I guess. It wasn’t even listed on their website when I applied. Now it is, so maybe I just missed it, but…” You sighed. “Now they expect me to write letters to Bruce Wayne every two weeks.”

“And you don’t want to?” he asked, fearing the answer.

“It’s not that,” you insisted, “I don’t mind it, I guess, but writing them seems a little old-fashioned. It would be easier to send an email instead.”

“Maybe he finds emails impersonal,” Jason muttered before he could stop himself. Emails would also require Jason to have a business email, and that was a little too corporate for his blood.

“I get it. He’s old, but I didn’t think he was that old.”

Jason flinched. People, mostly adults, called him an old soul. He used to preen under their attention, believing it was a compliment, but being called old outright—by you—didn’t feel as good.

“But there’s something romantic int the art of writing letters,” he insisted.

You shot him a dubious look—a favorite in your arsenal of guarded mistrust, it seemed. “Romantic?”

“I-I mean, not in the context of romance, but through the lens of an idealized reality. Picturesque, idyllic, pick your favorite synonym. I’ve always been partial to quixotic myself. Not enough words starting with the letter q.” More blood rushed to his face. This was going south and fast if he was talking about his favorite synonyms. He should have left well-enough alone and gotten a life as Tim suggested.

You exhaled sharply. It was almost a laugh, but not quite. “No one said he’d ever write me back. Honestly, I doubt he’ll even read my letters. Who has the time to read about what I’m learning in French?”

Jason perked up. “You’re taking French?”

“I want to read Victor Hugo in its original language.”

He curled and uncurled his fingers—excitement this time. Bruce might not care about your schooling, but he wanted to know everything. Your thoughts and opinions, which classes were your favorite, and whether you joined any extracurriculars. It allowed him to close his eyes and act like he was there too. Some might call it selfish, but he could live with that.

You sighed and uncapped your pen. “Technically, I needed to send a letter last week, but I’m not sure what to write. I want to make a good first impression, just in case he does read them. What if he decides I’m not the right fit for the scholarship and rescinds the offer?”

His heart sank. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“I want to be witty and charming, but everything sounds wrong as soon as I get it on paper.”

If that was all you were worried about, Jason felt infinitely better. He didn’t want you to pretend for his—er, for Bruce’s sake. “I think you should write what feels good to you. The foundation picked you for a reason, so I think he’d know if you’re pretending to be something you’re not.”

You eyed him curiously. “Is it standard protocol to give unsolicited advice?”

He shrugged. “I’m a man of depth and multitudes.”

You laughed at that, and his heart swelled. It was a nice laugh.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

Your eyes sparkled. “It’s everything I ever wanted and more.”

“I bet it is.” Jason curbed the whisper of jealousy that curled in his chest and focused on the good he was doing instead. You looked happy, and that was all that mattered. “I’m glad someone took a chance on you.”

Before you could respond, his comm beeped with an incoming message. He swore under his breath. “One second.” He popped onto the roof to put some distance between you and him before answering. “What?”

“Have you sufficiently wallowed in your failure?” Artemis asked coolly.

Her voice, while not unwelcome, left him a little disoriented. They hadn’t really spoken since he dipped a few weeks ago. It usually fell to him to keep the channels open, and he’d been a little distracted, so hearing from her without his reaching out first was a little unexpected.

“Maybe.”

She clicked her tongue. “We have a new bid from a new client. We await our fearless leader before we proceed, but only if he pulls his head out of his ass first.”

Jason ground his teeth. “When?”

“In a month, so wipe your tears and try not to be late. I am happy to step in as leader in your stead. Or we could call Nightwing to replace you. Or the one called Orphan? I hear the Gotham lot are interchangeable.”

It was hard not to take everything she said as a personal attack, but he was used to her blunt tone. It was her way of knocking some sense into him. He usually deserved to be bullied, and this time wasn’t any different. The Outlaws needed him. They weren’t always on a job, but this was the longest stretch of time he’d gone without reaching out since they decided to work together. Another job might be exactly what he needed to get over… whatever this was with you.

“Message received.” He chuckled a little. Loud and fucking clear. “Send me the details. I’ll be there. You still as the safehouse?”

“Yes.” The line went dead.

Artemis also wasn’t that big on goodbyes.

Jason sighed and hopped down to join you once more. You peered at him over the edge of your notebook. “Duty calls?”

“Uh, yeah, I have to—” He left it there. The less you knew about his work, the better. Some clients were more unsavory than others, and he didn’t know fuck all about this one. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your classes. Good luck with your first semester.”

You shot him a mock salute. “See you around, Hood.”

He hoped not. Seeing you again gave him the closure he needed, but indulging himself could easily turn into a slippery slope, one he wasn’t too keen to take. From here on out, it would be the letters, and that’s it.

[caesariawritesstuff]

Hello there! 👋I had this idea in my head for a while. The detective decides it's better to leave Gotham and Edward manages to convince her to stay by admitting his feelings for her. If you have the inspiration to write something like this I would be more than happy to read it���🥺🥺

Your works are all amazing and I can't wait to read more❤️❤️

Don't Leave Me

Summary: You try to leave Gotham, but Edward stops you just in time.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: Spoilers for the end of Arc I of Cat & Mouse.

A/N: My dear @vas17sblog, I have to sincerely apologize for the fact that this ask has been sitting in my inbox since July. 💀 I am literally the worst. I'd always intended to answer this since I felt it fit better after the events of Arc I, but damn, I'm so sorry this took me months to get to. Please forgive me!!!

I also had a request to use the prompt "Don't leave me. Not like this" from an anon, which I combined into this request!

It was snowing.

Soft flurries came down from the sky, threatening to coat Gotham in a blanket of white. One bag was clutched tight to your side, the strap digging into your shoulder. The bus stop around you was quiet, not a soul in sight, as cars drove past on the icy roads. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the ticket for Metropolis, gazing at it for a long moment, before stuffing it back into your pocket, the paper rough against your fingertips.

The movers were already at your apartment. You’d let them in, instructed them to pack everything into boxes, and that was that. You couldn’t bear to do it yourself. You didn’t want to see all of your things, belongings you love, stuffed away into boxes and hauled into the back of a truck. You’d already rented a place in Metropolis. Hadn’t even cared to look at anything more than a few photos online. Hadn’t cared that the rent was high. The truth was that you just wanted out of this fucking city, and you were willing to pay a high price to get out. Everywhere you looked, your memories were plagued with all that happened with Beau and the rest of the GCPD. His words remained a constant echo in your mind, gnawing at your soul, ripping it to shreds. Ripping it right from your marrow and stabbing into your very flesh. When you closed your eyes, you saw his smug face. In the dead of night, you heard his voice. Saw Archer’s dead eyes staring back at you. The brand on your skin was still healing, and you itched at the skin around it almost absent-mindedly, like a new bad habit. A habit you couldn’t shake.

This decision hadn’t come lightly. You’d spent hours thinking about what you could do, how you could just get out of Gotham and leave everything behind. The truth was that you needed a fresh start. You need something else – something but the pain and agony rippling through you. Something more than the suffering, more than the pain. You didn’t know what you were going to do, or what Metropolis had in store, but getting out of here…it was the only thing you knew what to do right now. The only thing you wanted.

Edward didn’t know. He couldn’t know. You’d written him a letter and dropped it off at the GCPD, and asked for the receptionist to deliver it to him. By the time he read and came looking for you, you would be long gone. And he couldn’t follow you out of the city, not without risking his parole. He would be made. He would be furious…but he wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t he? He knew what you’d been through, seen it with his own two eyes. He had to understand…but he didn’t have a choice. You’d made your choice.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away, squeezing your eyes shut as you shivered against the cold. Where was the damn bus? It should’ve been here by now. Should’ve—

“Detective.”

His voice.

Your eyes snapped open and you turned around in time to find Edward standing there, his eyes wide, his cheeks and nose tinged pink from the chill. Soft flurries of white fell into his hair and onto his shoulders.

“Edward…” you whispered, panic rippling through you. How did he find you?

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice rough, eyes narrowed.

“Didn’t you read my note?”

“Of course I did. Every damn word. Twice.” His lips curled back in a scowl. You recognized this look – just how mad he was.

You averted your gaze, a lump forming in your throat, as you glanced both ways down the quiet, still streets. Headlights from passing cars flashed in your eyes.

“It’s not coming,” he said. “I hacked into the bust depot station ad changed the route.”

“What?” you asked, turning back to him. “Why would you do that?”

“And why would you do this?” he demanded, yanking the note out of his pocket, shaking it in his white-knuckled grip. He took a step closer, redness crawling up his throat. “Why would you – I thought – I…” His words trailed off.

“It’s easier this way, Edward,” you said, your voice holding no warmth to it.

He scoffed. “Easier? For who? For you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re running, my dear.”

“I’m trying to get away from all of this. From Gotham. Don’t you get that?”

“Are you trying to get away from Gotham? Or from me?” he asked, raising his brows.

His words were like a slap in the face. You stepped back, blinking, your lips twisting into a scowl that matched his own…but maybe there was some truth to what he was saying. Some truth to the reality in which you were trying so hard to avoid.

“I…” the words lodged in your throat.

He took a step closer. “Don’t leave me. Not like this.”

The pain in his voice was raw and real. It was full of everything that made your heart shatter into a million pieces, breaking apart and shattering your very soul. Tears welled behind your eyes as your mouth fell agape, all words dying on your tongue.

“Edward…” you murmured. “I can’t stay here. I can’t—”

“Please,” he whispered, his hands shooting out to capture your face in his hands, his skin warm against your cheeks. Tears spilled from your eyes, and he wiped them away.

“Please don’t run away,” he said. “Not from me. Not from this damn city. Please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tilting your head slightly into his hand. You’d been so firm in your decision, so adamant about it, so desperate to get out of here and keep everything a secret from Edward – because you still couldn’t look at him. This was the first time you’d seen him in person in weeks, and this was exactly why you’d never wanted to see him in the first place – because seeing him reignited all those feelings inside of you, that aching warmth in your heart.

And now you were questioning everything all over again.

“I can’t,” you whispered, voice trembling.

“Yes, you can,” he pleaded. “You’re strong. You’re not a coward.”

“But I’m so scared,” you whispered. You were terrified of what the future held, of what was going to happen next. It clawed up your throat and made itself known, shedding your skin and burrowing its way inside.

“I know,” he said. “But don’t let your fears control you. Don’t let it consume you.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” you asked, opening your eyes again to find him staring down at you, towering over you, his body heat enveloping you.

“No,” he said. “Not as long as I have you.”

You scoffed under your breath. “I have to go, Edward.”

“No,” he said, firmer this time. “I refuse to let you run.”

You looked away, back at the quiet streets. A thousand questions raced through your mind, but you weren’t sure what to ask of him or how to make sense of this. How were you supposed to move on? To go on after everything that happened? To walk these streets and pretend that nothing happened to you?

You met his gaze, hardened, his jaw set tight. His hands still cupped your face, wiping away the tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. But the longer you stared at him, the more the heartache in your chest only grew. God – this is exactly why you’d never wanted to see him: because standing here with him reignited all of your feelings and reminded you just how much you wanted to stay with him, to stay in the city you called home.

“After everything we’ve been through…why would you do this to me?” he asked.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you said. “I just—”

“Don’t you get it, detective? How much I care about you? How much I need you in my life?” he asked. “And if you leave, I’ll…” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t get the words out.

You looked away again, words dying on your tongue. His words were a knife in your stomach, twisting and twisting, pulling your soul from your body and stomping on it.

“Detective,” he said again, pulling your eyes to him again. “If you get on that bus, you’re not just leaving Gotham. You’re leaving me. And I cannot sit here and watch you disappear from my life. I won’t let it happen.”

“Edward…”

“I won’t let you run from this. From me. From us,” he said.

Your jaw fell open slightly, your vision blurring from the tears. “But I’m so fucking scared, Edward,” you whispered.

He exhaled a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your face, as if he feared you would slip away the second he let go. His blue eyes burned holes into your own. The soft flurries increased a little, melting on yours and his warm skin.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice unsteady. “I know, because I am, too. Every single day, I wake up terrified that I’ll lose you. That you’ll decide I’m not worthy of you anymore, that one day, you’ll come to your sense and realize I’ve just been a waste of your time. That one day, you’ll wake up and realize you’re better off without me. And now…now you’re proving that fear right.”

Your throat tightened. “Edward…”

“No,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes burning with anger. “You need to listen to me. You need to get it through that thick skull of yours, through that tiny mind I love so much, that if you walk away, if you get on that bus, I swear, I’ll never be the same again.”

“Edward—”

“Listen, detective,” he said again, firmer this time. “Gotham has been nothing but a warzone for me. A place I wanted to prove myself better than the rest of the idiots he walk these streets. A place where I’ve had to run and fight and manipulate to survive. I fought for control, to conquer, to ruin. And then you…” He shook his head, scoffing. “And then you had the audacity to walk into my life. “To make me feel something for you that I’ve never felt for someone else. To make me feel things I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling. And I don’t give one damn about the rest of the city, or the GCPD, or anyone else. You are the only thing I care about.”

His voice dropped into a low whisper. “Detective, I…”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the tears continuing to fall, trembling in his arms now as he pulled you closer, his breath a soft mist against your own skin.

“I don’t know what will become of me if you leave,” he continued after a moment. “I don’t know how I’ll just go on with my sorry, miserable life. You are the only thing that makes my life bearable. The only thing that keeps my reform something I want to work for – to be better for you. If I have to beg, I will. If I have to kneel in this damn snow and swear my life to you, I’ll do it. But please, for the love of God, do not get on that bus. Stay with me. Please.”

The weight of his words crashed over you like a tidal wave. His hands trembled, his breathing grew uneven, as if every part of him clung to you. Like the moment he let go, he would shatter completely, the pieces of him broken all across the snow. His gaze was unwavering, determined, filled with that look you loved so much, his blue eyes only drawing you further and further in. Your chest tightened painfully, like someone was squeezing your heart in their fist. Your own breath hitched in your throat, more tears streaming down your cheeks, which he only wiped away without hesitation.

In the quiet, you heard the deep rumbling of a bus down the road. You finally tore your eyes from his and looked away just in time to see the bus come to a rolling stop by the sign. The doors opened, lights bright and flashing, headlights illuminating the flurries in the snow.

“Please,” Edward whispered again. “Stay. Stay with me.”

His words crackled something to life inside of you, breaking through the walls you’d formed around your fragile heart. He was laying everything out, every vulnerable piece of himself, begging you not to leave…and God, how could you walk away from this? From him?

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to stay here,” you whispered.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said without hesitation.

“You’re impossible, Edward Nigma,” you whispered. “You’re so selfish.”

“Selfish for you,” he replied, his lips curving into that smug smile you loved so much.

You shook your head, but pain rippled through you – but a sob tore from your throat, and before you could think, you threw your arms around him, burying yourself in his warmth. He clutched to you just as tightly, his arms wrapping around you, his breath in your hair, at your cheek, as he trembled against you.

“Please don’t leave,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “I don’t give a damn about this city. But you…you are the only thing that has ever felt real.”

Your fingers dug into the fabric of his coat, holding onto him like he was a life vest. The bust doors closed as it pulled away, continuing on its route. The ticket in your pocket was meaningless now. Because, deep down, you knew the truth: he had become everything to you. And even though you could leave Gotham, you could never leave him.

And maybe that was enough.

[shannonsketches]

lays on the floor do you guys ever think about how in ResF Bulma falls for Vegeta's fake-out with Freeza and both she and Yamcha are worried about Vegeta's villain fake-out strategy in Champa and Beerus' mini tournament and how it's only been a couple of years since the Buu saga and how Vegeta straight up stopped using that strategy after that tournament

[crossbackpoke-check]

Dysprosium, Mary Soon Lee

dysprosium, AN 66, is a silvery-white rare earth metal. its name is derived from the greek dysprositos, meaning “hard to get at”, owing to the difficulty in separating and isolating this rare earth element. dysprosium is used to measure neutron flux, to fuel reactors, and to activate phosphors. terfenol-d is a magnetorestrictive alloy, meaning that it changes shape when a magnetic field is applied, and is used to manufacture underwater acoustic systems.

jason “robo” robertson, dallas stars #21 for @simmyfrobby’s nhl periodic table poems <3

[rainingincale]

.

[newvision]

that’s what I’m fucking talking about

[boundlss]

"Shiroe-senpai!"

Soujiro's visage exuded bright excitement as he waved his hand, catching the eye of both players and townsfolk alike as he passed by. It wasn't often when the leader of Log Horizon (or a player of his caliber in general) sought out external assistance, let alone Soujiro's. Needless to say, he was eager to hear what Shiroe had in mind.

Could it be another raid? Some important mission? Or even just a secret mission with just a few members senpai handpicked? Uwahhh, I can't wait! I can't wait!

Once Soujiro's presence was acknowledged, the said excitement changed into calm gratefulness instead. He felt glad and relieved that someone like Shiroe started asking for help these days, rather than the old days by working by himself most of the time. Soujiro thought had the best ideas, to the point that he could be quite oblivious whether there were devious intentions behind them.

"I'm sure you either had something important to ask from me, or that you want to simply play catch up," he chuckled. "But we both know that the latter is more of a luxury these days."

Unbeknowst to Shiroe, Soujiro's admiration towards him alone would make him stop anything else he was doing, if it meant acknowledgement and praise from one of the players he respected the most. (As Nazuna would put it from time to time, like a puppy eager to please.)

( so this is an ask of all time... Hello!! Shwksns )

Ha. Unfortunately, Soujiro isn't exactly wrong about the lack of freetime they all have. As everything surrounding their circumstances comes closer to slotting perfectly into place, the gaps between "incidents" seem to shrink.

But neither of his guesses are entirely off the mark.

"Actually, you could call it a little bit of both..." Shiroe begins, a little vaguely. "That is, it's something important that I trust you with, but I wouldn't say that it won't involve any catching up..."

It's true that he probably could have asked just about anyone to join him for what he was planning to do with enough preparation beforehand. As far as operations went, this one wouldn't require a particularly large group of people, nor did Shiroe think it would require an especially particular team composition. It wasn't reported to be as difficult as an ordinary "boss fight" in terms of raw power, after all. But he stands before Souji now for a particular reason.

"For a while, I've been working with Rieze and Misa from D.D.D. to keep an eye on the waters that separate the physical locations of the Chinese server and the Japan server, since that's the shortest way for Kanami and Krusty to make their way here. Recently, Misa informed me that a Genius had been spotted who was able to completely disable an Adventurer's capability to do things like view the menu, or communicate with eachother through telepathy."

According to his meeting with the two interim leaders of the guild, the Genius hadn't been particularly strong, but things like menus and telepathy are vital to a party of adventurers, especially during sea-based battles. Cutting off access to menus was already bad for spellcasters and healers, but parties spread across multiple ships would have been essentially unable to convey anything to the members of their party on a different ship. Which was why...

"If it's a small enough party, using menus and status screens isn't strictly necessary, and we'd only have to use it with one ship if we only took a few people. But, just in case, I figured it would be best if I were fighting with people who I can trust myself to figure out. So far it's just me, Naotsugu, and Nyanta... But I wanted to ask if you and Nazuna would be willing to accompany us."

Shiroe can't help sounding sheepish, uncertain of himself. It's still just a little difficult, getting used to asking others for help, even knowing Soujiro likely would jump at the opportunity.

unprompted. / accepting.

[i-love-ptv]

Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Goin’ On ˚̣̣ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣

Pairing: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Soccer-mom!Wife!Reader

It’s not easy being a soccer-mom, especially when dads hit on you at every game as if you’re not married to Rafe.

Wc: 1,596

Fluff, Protective Rafe making an appearance, kinda pushy guy (idk what to say)

An: I’ve really wanted to write a fic based on this song, and this idea randomly popped into my head so! Am I using the names I wanna name my kids? Yes, yes I am.

Not proofread tbh

Feedback always appreciated lovelies!! xx

“I’ll be back, ‘mkay doll?”

You hum in acknowledgement, eyes peering back at the field after looking up.

Your husband, Rafe, leant down and places a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Yeahhh, Daddy’s gonna be back, baby.” Rafe coos at your two year old, who was sitting on your lap, babbling freely while peering at him with her big doe eyes.

Rafe walks off the bleachers in search of the concession stand to buy food for the three of you.

You brush your hand over your young daughter’s head, making sure her somewhat oversized hat is still covering her head entirely. Her hand wraps around your index finger.

It was oddly humid today, if you continued moving, you’d break a slight sweat. You can't even imagine what your daughter—Stacy must be feeling, running around on the large grassy field under the beaming bright sun.

You were proud of your baby girl though, nonetheless. And so was Rafe, of course.

You shout loudly when you notice the game is about to start, bellowing out a “Go Stacy!”

Stacy’s eyes easily found yours, for you and Rafe would always sit in the same spot on the bleachers.

Her eyes were slightly wide due to your shout, despite you and Rafe always cheering for her during her games.

She’s motioning for you to ‘shh’, putting her fingers to her lips before getting into her position.

“Which one’s yours?” You hear to the left of you, the unknown voice makes you tear your eyes away from the field.

You smile shortly at the unfamiliar man next to you, “Number 22.”

You can’t help but notice how he’s rather scruffy looking, an odd contrast to your upkept husband with his neatly buzzed hair.

“Mine’s number 13.” He says, flashing his teeth at you.

You gasp and shoot up a little, making you look down at your daughter on your lap. “Valerie’s yours? Oh she’s just the sweetest!”

The man chuckles, looking deeply in your eyes. This makes your eyebrows raise, slightly in confusion, but mostly in discomfort.

He hadn’t done anything out of the norm, you’d randomly talk to the other moms around too, but something about him made you uncomfortable.

“My name's Brandon, and yours?”

You introduce yourself briefly, before turning back towards the game.

His eyes dart to your left hand, looking for a ring, for any indication that you belong to someone else. He smiles sharply when he finds your fingers bare. This goes unnoticed by you.

Little does he know, you do have your ring on, just around your neck.

Your biggest fear was your youngest accidentally pulling off your ring, resulting in you losing it. Or, even worse: it pokes her eye or something of that nature.

You suppose you could be considered a ‘Helicopter-mom’ at times, simply going to the extremes to make sure your kids are happy and healthy at every point in time.

Rafe is the exact same way, maybe even a little worse. But you knew he was just protective, he loves this life that he has with you, since he had no idea the two of you would’ve been together for so long.

You had started dating Rafe when you were 18 and he was 19. It was good for the first few months, disregarding the few arguments that you had. But then, you had caught Rafe doing cocaine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to shake the look on his face from your memory.

You weren’t supposed to be at the party, you said you were busy filling out college applications.

So when he was mid-line, and he saw you standing there all dolled up, watching him with glossy eyes, he felt his heart shatter into pieces.

You weren’t supposed to find out, he wanted to keep this away from you, to keep you close to him.

He promised that he would try and stay sober for you, but eventually he’d give in every time the opportunity was in front of him. This resulted in several arguments, and surprisingly, a break up.

But things are different now. You both are in your 30’s, you got married, and of course, had two beautiful babies together.

Rafe knew he’d be crazy to fuck things up now, when he has the perfect life right in front of him.

Speaking of which; you’re really starting to wonder what the hell is taking him so long just to get some goddamn hotdogs and drinks.

You’re bouncing your knee anxiously, which makes your daughter giggle. You wish she wasn’t finding this amusing, but you know she can’t help it.

“Well who’s this cute girl, huh?” The man coos, tickling your daughter’s side.

“Her name is Noelle.” You huff, your mood quickly shifting due to this stranger touching your daughter.

He lets out another chuckle, you wish you never had to hear it again. “Sounds like you’re quoting Teenage Dirtbag to me.”

You give him a pointed look, you’re really getting sick of his pestering. “That’s where I got it from.”

Abruptly, the crowd starts cheering madly. You look around and see Stacy's team celebrating briefly; they had just scored a goal.

You cheer and clap, grabbing Noelle’s chubby hands and making her raise her arms wildly while giggling with her.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could-” Before Brandon could finish his sentence, none other than Rafe Cameron comes stomping up the bleachers, huffing and puffing angrily.

He sits down and sighs, “God, I’m sorry babe. The line was so long! I swear I’m going grey right now.”

“And I missed the goddamn play!” Rafe exclaims. He looks over at you and immediately goes quiet once he sees those wide baby eyes that look at him curiously.

“Da?” Noelle mutters, reaching her tiny hands towards Rafe’s larger ones.

“Yeah. Da’s here babygirl, do you want your food? Huh sweet girl?”

Rafe hands you your food, setting his food aside so he can put Noelle in his lap. He begins to split half his hotdog in pieces for her.

You glance to the left, you notice Brandon looking like a fish out of water.

Rafe is the CEO of one of, if not the biggest business company around. And Brandon had just borderline harassed his wife, who was holding his child.

Brandon sneers at the two of you in silence while the game continues, nearly boiling at the fact that he couldn’t have you.

Your head is laying on Rafe’s shoulders, you’re rubbing circles on Noelle’s shoulder as she settles down.

“Everything alright babe?” Rafe asks, trying to peer down at your face.

You untuck your necklace with your wedding ring from your shirt, fiddling with it. “Yeah, now that you’re here Ray.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a few seconds.

“…What does that mean?”

You hesitate to answer, but you do regardless, “Nothing! It’s just uh..That guy next to me, was kinda like hassling me I guess.”

This makes Rafe straighten his back.

“He do somethin’ to you doll?” Rafe questions in a whisper. You know you have about 30 seconds to try and calm him down before he’s banned from every soccer game left in the season.

“No, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool. I need you to calm down Ray.”

Rafe’s nose is flaring, “What about Ellie? Did he touch her?”

You feel your throat closing up, your heart is damn near pounding out of your chest.

You don’t say anything to Rafe, but that look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know.

You grab his bicep, trying to keep him grounded. Even though he’s changed, some parts of him haven’t.

Rafe speaks lowly in your ear, but not too much to frighten you in any way. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Don’t worry y’pretty little head about it.”

Rafe presses a firm kiss against your cheek, then presses a softer one to your lips.

After 30 more minutes, and 2 more goals, Stacy’s team wins.

You and Rafe cheer loudly, letting out “That’s our baby girl!”

You meet Stacy at the bottom of the bleachers, holding Noelle in your hand as the littlest claps her hands between Stacy’s face.

You’re too busy congratulating your daughter to notice Rafe pulling Brandon aside while his daughter, Valerie is off talking to her friends.

Rafe puts a firm hand on his shoulder, “Hey man.”

Brandon lets out a nervous laugh, “Hey there, Rafe Cameron, right?”

“Yeah, let’s keep this short. I better not see or hear you talking to my wife again, do you hear me? I don’t give a shit what happened.”

Rafe continues shortly, “And keep your fucking hands to yourself, if I find out you touched my either of my daughters again, I swear to God himself I’ll put you under.”

The two men are holding eye contact, one looks with confidence and borderline rage, while the other looks with fear.

Rafe walks down the bleachers, meeting you and your girls.

“You were amazing out there sweetheart!” Rafe smiles while pulling Stacy into a bear hug.

“Jesus dad, you’re crushing me!” Stacy laughs with a slight wheeze.

Rafe ruffles her hair and puts his arm around your neck.

“All good to go?”

You nod your head, and with that, the four of you begin to walk to Rafe’s parked car.

Rafe realizes that this isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on at a soccer game, or anywhere in fact. And this definitely won’t be the last.

Cause everybody’s in love with Stacy’s mom.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Getting ready for the Game.(LotteWubben-MoyXToddlerReader)

AN: i hope you love it and it's what you imagined when you requested it.

Summary: you decided to put your Finger paint to a good use & your momma isn't sure how you feel about that.

Your momma was on her Phone in the kitchen, talking to one of your aunties from Arsenal. You were a little bit bored so you decided to grab your Finger paint. Taking the Red and White ones Out of the little Box they were in. Your momma forgot to put the box away after you painted with her last night.

Your momma had a game later today so you wanted to look extra pretty & had the Idea of painting your face. Taking the red paint and opening it. Half of the paint landing on your little white dress. How unfortunate. But it gave you a brilliant idea. At least in your eyes it was.

Your put your hands in the blob of paint that had fallen onto your dress and put red hand prints all over the dress. You looked in your full length mirror and giggled. You Loved your Arsenal dress.

"Little Lion?"Lotte walked back in and saw you dancing around in the freshly new pimped dress. Your tiny hands still full of the Red Paint. "Oh lord!" She said and looked at you. Quite stressed out.

"Mommy Look! I mades my dress more pwetty!" You replied. You were almost three years old and loved to dress up. Especially in Arsenal colors. She kneeled down in front of you.

"i can see that sweet Girl!" She told you gently. "but we don't just Paint stuff without asking Mommy or another grown up. you know that right?" Lotte asked.

You looked down and started biting down on your bottom lip.

"i am so sowwy mommy!" You told her and teared up a little. "Oh little Lion it's okay! I am not mad!" She pulled you in for a hug. Not caring about the fresh paint one your dress. "And your dress is really pretty! You can wear it to the Game tonight ! If you want to! I bet the other Girls gonna love it as well!" She whispered out. Holding you close. You held onto her. Not wanting to let go of your mommy any time some. Hiding your face in her shoulder.

"you think so?" You asked, face still very well hidden.

"yes of course angel. Lets get your hands cleaned up and Mommy is gonna take a quick shower before we drive to the game?" She suggested.

"okay Mommy!" You told her. She went to the bathroom to wash your hands and then used the Hair dryer to dry the paint on your dress.

After that she had to clean up herself because her clothes were full of Red Paint from the hug she has given you earlier.

While she got ready for the game she put on Peppa Pig for you on her phone. Which was your favorite Show so you happily watched it. Being really entertained by it. Especially because you barely watched TV or anything like that. You watched like 30 minutes a week maybe.

Soon your mommy returned and you drove to the Game with your mommy.

"i am Happy Mommy!" You let her know. Lotte smiled gently.

"that's good to hear! I Always want to try my best to make sure you are happy, little Lion!" Lotte told you.

"you knows why i am so happy?" you asked your mommy. She shook her head no.

"i don't know. Want to tell me?" Your Mommy said. You giggled and kicked your feet around, sitting in your carseat.

"cause you let me wear my pretty dress!" You explained to her.

"aww. that makes me happy to hear! So looks like we are both happy!" Lotte stated. For the remaining five minutes of the Car Ride you listened to Taylor Swift with her.

A little while later you walked into the locker room with your mommy.

"Look i have mades this dress more pretty." You informed everyone.

"little lion it looks stunning!" Alessia told you and kneeled down to hug you. You ran over to her and jumped into her arms, hugging her.

"auntie lessi! thank you. it's my new Arsenal dress." You let her know.

"kiddo you always are our good luck Charm but this dress is just gonna add another spark to it!" Katie answered and smiled at you warmly.

"auntie katie, that's so nice. thanks you!" you happily say. Staying all cuddled up to Alessia.

You got many more compliments for your dress before you went to sit on the bench with Lia. Cause she wasn't playing from the beginning. With you on the bench were Caitlin & Leah among other Girls.

You talked to them about Peppa pig and your new dress some more. The First half ended with Arsenal being in lead 2-0. Your mom was on the bench with you now during the second half of the Game. Which you ended Up winning 4-0.

You really felt like their little good luck charm.

[starkwlkr]

happy life, happy wife | hugh jackman

an: “you attract what you fear” GUYS IM SO SCARED OF A 55 YEAR OLD AUSTRALIAN 😭 definitely thinking about making marvel actress!reader x hugh an actual series… i have ideas

marvel actress!reader

Deadpool & Wolverine Press tour - Hot Ones

Hugh felt like he was going to die. Each wing was getting hotter and hotter, but immediately when he heard his wife’s name he forgot all about the spice.

“Hugh, your wife is part of the Avengers, how does it feel having your wife be part of such a huge franchise? Have you two talked about a potential team up with the X-men and the Avengers?” Sean asked.

“My wife . . . Oh god, I think I’m crying-”

“I can’t tell if you’re legitimately dying or completely in love with your wife.” Ryan told Hugh.

“Wait . . I am completely in love with my wife and I would legitimately die for her.” Hugh gasped as he rearranged Ryan’s words.

“Is that in the contract she made you sign when you married her? ‘I vow to die for you’. My contract said I had to give all my money to my kids and wife.” Ryan said.

“No, she’s amazing, um, if I start talking about her I think I might go on for hours,” he laughed. “Our kids do want to see their parents fighting the bad guys together. We would love to team up, maybe it could happen.” Hugh smiled.

“The entire movie would be them making out and her beating the shit out of you. I’d pay to see that.” Ryan added.

•••

Comic Con 2024

Like RDJ, your last Marvel movie had been Avengers: Endgame. After being in ten mcu films, it was time to say goodbye to your character.

But that was in 2019.

At this years comic con, you were back. The cast of Deadpool & Wolverine had taken the stage and showed their appreciation for the fans. After their panel, it was time to announce Marvel’s upcoming projects. Kevin Feige announced the Fantastic Four, Thunderbolts, Captain America 4, and finally the new Avengers movies, which everyone was extremely excited about.

After showing the title card for the upcoming Avengers film, Kevin turned to the audience.

“Something people have been asking, as of late, is who the heck is going to direct these two movies?” The audience clapped.

From the side of the stage, you were nervous. What if the fans didn’t like the idea of you directing the next two Avengers films? Your worrying caused Hugh to come to your rescue.

“Hey, they loved you as an Avenger, they will love you even more.” Hugh kissed your forehead. “If anyone says anything about this decision, they have me to deal with.”

You laughed at his words. “I really love you so much.”

“Love you too, bub.” Hugh was about to kiss you when Ryan cut in.

“I really love us too. I convinced half of the people here that we’re a throuple.” He said in the most serious tone ever.

Kevin announced you as the director. Your doubt of the fans not liking the announcement was proven wrong when you walked the stairs to the stage and stood next to Kevin. They cheered when they saw you were back.

As you said a few words, thanking Marvel, Kevin and the fans, you were being recorded by Hugh, who was being recorded by Ryan.

“That’s my wife!” Hugh cheered from backstage, holding his phone in his hand.

“She’s Marvel Jesus now, holy shit!”

•••

WIRED autocomplete interview

“Is Hugh Jackman married?”

“Yes, to me, Y/n, probably to half the population,” Ryan answered. “He’s Australia’s biggest slut.”

“All the times, I proposed.” Hugh laughed. “But yes, I am married and I love my wife very much. She’s stuck with me forever.” He lifted his hand to show off the wedding band.

“Funny, because she texted me right now. Her and Blake are in the courthouse getting married. So Deadpool three was actually made so our wives could divorce us and marry each other.”

[fairiily]

|| why you keep waking up in your cr

i saw a girl make a tiktok about this and i thought it was a really interesting idea so i wanted to share it with you!

i think we can all agree that one of the biggest ideas on shiftblr is that all you need is intention

but i also think a lot of people can agree with me when i say: “if intention is all you need, why do i keep waking up in my cr?”

ill relate it to lucid dreaming.

most people who want to lucid dream use reality checks as a method to do so

you reality check throughout the day so your subconscious remembers while youre dreaming

maybe it doesnt work the first night you go to sleep, but you keep reality checking as part of your routine until your subconscious remembers too.

another girl related it to birth control

she used to have an alarm set everyday for 1pm to take the pill

eventually, she didnt need the alarm anymore, because her subconscious remembered that around that time of day, she needed to take her birth control pill

its the exact same way with shifting

you set intention to shift before you go to sleep, and you wake up in your cr again

“but i set intention! why am i still here?”

you begin to doubt yourself, in your abilities to shift, that maybe intention doesn’t actually work.

but it does.

sometimes it just takes a little longer for your subconscious to remember the intention you set, for the intention to stick.

many people’s shifting success stories happen when they go to sleep like any other night

they don’t intentionally do a method or set the intention of shifting, but they wake up in their dr.

how does that work?

after going to sleep and setting your intention night after night after night, your subconscious starts to do it on its own.

like reality checking during dreams, or setting an alarm to take a pill

your subconscious doesn’t have eyes, it is something that has to be trained, all it knows is what you tell it.

not everything can be mastered on the first try, you just have to keep trying.

moral of the story is:

intention is real. and its important. dont give up on yourself. keep setting intention. keep going to sleep knowing you will wake up in your dr.

one day you will.

i hope this helped or resonated with some of you, because when i heard about this idea, it gave me a lot of hope that im not doing anything wrong, my subconscious is just taking a little while to catch up.

happy shifting!

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

hii I was wondering if u could write something where daeho and reader are already in a relationship and they find eachother after the first round and maybe they are upset with eachother for going into the games.

anc if it could have a bit of fluff that would be nice!!

tyy🫶🫶🫶

At Least We Have Eachother

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- Dae-ho and you both join the squid games for the benefit of the other. Neither of you know about it, until you find each other after the first game.

Warnings- Squid Games, mentions of blood, murder, and death

A/N- Thank you guys for the overwhelming support with my Daeho fic. I am so motivated right now, it's not even funny. He is such a sweet baby, MY SHAYLAAAA

Word Count- 1,192

Your debt was not something you were proud of. To be honest, it crept up on you. It started with medical bills, then Daeho ran into some Ex-Marines, who dragged him into a bad gamble.

From there it kind of went down hill. Struggling to pay bills, borrowing more money, making the wrong people mad. In other words, the two of you were in an extremely bad position.

When a strange man with a suitcase approached you on your way home, you were hesitant. In any other situation you might have ignored him and walked away. But, you had just had another invoice from a debt collecting company. Not to mention the loan shark that came up and threatened Daeho two days prior. The eviction notice was also putting a hole on your kitchen table.

The idea of following the funny-looking card, winning a bunch of money, clearing your (and Daeho) debts. It was too good to be true, you knew that deep down. At the end of the day, you were at rock bottom. Desperate people do desperate things.

So, while slipping Daeho a simple lie about spending the night with a friend... You took off to the discrete location alone. Where you were picked up by a van. You don't remember much after that.

The regret sunk in deep when you realized what you had gotten yourself into. When you awoke seeing hundreds of people around you, all in the same position, you were noticeably scared. You barely left the bed you woke in. Only to stand with the crowd to listen to the guards and sign the needed contract. It seemed too late to back out now...

The first game was lonely, intimidating, and revealing. The only reason you weren't lying head face in the sand dead, was your fear. It struck you stone-cold still on 'red light'. The ring of your ears pressured you to move forward on 'Green light.' Due to the deadly shots to other players. It pushed you to move so you didn't suffer the same fate.

You were much too nervous to talk to anyone, you saw little point in making friends at first. That was until the realization of any team games.

After the first game was officially over and you had returned to the common room, you'd taken a moment to think. To think how it would be if you were able to walk home now. How it probably wouldn't even matter if you had died, so many people were out for your head anyways. It was all looking dark, but Daeho was your light. He was always so positive, he kept you happy. You owed it to him to keep fighting.

To keep fighting for that adorable, handsome, sweet face. That same face that was currently staring you down....

"Daeho?" You questioned, just in case your mind was playing a trick on you.

"What are you doing here!" He ran over, pulling you further behind the layered beds. His grip was tight on your arm, once the two of you stopped, he seemed to notice. At that he quickly loosened his squeeze.

"W-why are you here! I-I thought you were sleeping over at-" You cut him off, your guilty conscience taking over.

"Daeho, what are you doing here?" You rebutted, frantically pushing your hair back. He knew you were nervous.

"To settle some of our debt, but that doesn't even matter anymore. People are dying, you can't be here!" He stressed over you. He did a few takes over your form, making sure you were not hurt in any way. You thought he was finished until he slowly brought his hand up. He stuck his thumb out and seared a few drops of blood off of your cheek. You hadn't noticed them before...

An argument against him was impossible to think of, but you managed. "Well I can say the same about you! You could get killed also. Where would that leave me!" He threw his head back, pressing both hands over his face. He dragged them down, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Ohhh, this can not be happening.. I-it doesn't matter, because you're here, where you were not supposed to be!" He started to fidget with his fingers, a sign he was distressed.

"Dae...I'm also here because... I got fired yesterday..." You looked down, picking at your nails. His head snapped to look at yours. "What?"

"They were... overstaffed and, apparently a younger employee could do the same amount of work for minimum wage... So, they just got rid of me..." He looked sympathetic, but still mad.

"You should have told me. We would have figured it out. You didn't have to lie."

You thought for a second, "Its not like I wanted to lie! I was trying to help us!"

"How reckless!" He said. It was almost comical!

A laugh pushed its way out, "Oh my gosh, don't act like you aren't here too!" You started to raise your voice, frustrated.

He took a single step back, hands on his hips. "You're supposed to be the smart one! I'm fun, loving, a burst of fricken light!" He said, his words contradicting his tone, not joyfully at all.

"Whatever! What matters now is that we were stuck in a death trap! The money is not even our first problem. We might not even be alive before the day is over! Or worse, you'll be dead and I'll be left to suffer!"

He gave another sigh, stepping forward and embracing you. It was exactly what both of you needed. His arms wrapped impossibly tight around you. You could only reciprocate the squeeze. His head fell on top of yours, he nestled in.

"I don't want to argue, I just want you safe... We will be fine." He said, keeping you in his grasp.

"I know, but I just wanted to help... The man seemed so promising, that we could have a normal life again." You wanted to let your tears flow, but you couldn't risk looking weak. You had to remind yourself that there were still a couple hundred other players in the large room.

He shook his head on top of yours, "I would live in a tent as long as I was with you.... I can manage anywhere, as long as you are by my side..."

You pulled back to look at him. Your arms still wrapping around each other. "I just, I know you're not happy... I wanted to clear everything up, one day own our own house. One that we can never get evicted from." He pushed a stray hair behind your ear.

"Oh Dae, I don't care about that. I just want you." You shoved your head into his chest.

"I love you.."

"I love you too."

"What the hell are we going to do here." You questioned, peaking up from his chest slightly.

"Were going to stick together. We're going to get out of this alive." He pulled back and down to press a firm and reassuring kiss on your lips. Maybe things would be so bad after all.

Oh, how naive you both were...

A/N- Honestly, I like my first Daeho fic better. But that's probably because I am a SUCKER for emotional hurt/comfort. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed this one. Pls lmk how I can improve!!!