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#just kidding please save me from myself
paulic · 9 months
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The bug man announced a tour!!!!!!!!!!! I just hyperventilated in the shower
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phlyaros · 10 months
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im gonna be real anon I don't care about label shit ship discourse I care about if real people are getting hurt and ONE reblog from someone being jokingly aggressive on the subject isn't enough to convince me that people are getting hurt when there's more evidence to the contrary. you've put me in a shitty situation here and I don't want to engage with it. please just ask people what they actually think next time before you go throwing your assumptions at other people.
#i trust enough that most of my mutuals understand the nuance needed of media depiction of unsavory subjects.#if i'm wrong then I'm wrong. okay. thank you.#i hate the dichotomy i hate the lack of nuance in this discussion I want people to actually talk to each other#I want people to realize that you can respect people with different opinions than you if they aren't actually hurting anyone#I'm literally. someone who was alone with me a lot as a kid is in prison for CP/solicitation. I think if anyone can say that media-#depiction of fucked up shit that really happens is more nuanced than 'x is bad so it shouldnt exist'#you cant do that in real life. you cant make something not exist. just because something fictional contains it doesnt mean it condones it.#im so tired. im so tired. why wasnt this a dm. i dont really want to have this discussion publicly.#i can think things are gross but understand that there's nuance to depiction and just because I don't like it doesn't mean those people-#-don't deserve to have something that understands them.#not everyone is good at actually. being mature enough to handle that nuance. when they try. people can be wrong#and if people ARE weird I can just not engage with them. there's. I can decide for myself!#and now I'M stuck in my brain is insane and. as if! as if people always reblog things they 100% agree with!#im so tired. im so tired. im in pain and people are messaging me about a singular reblog from six months ago on someone else's blog.#i understand being cautious i really do but thats like insane behavior. why are you putting this on me. why didn't you just talk to me.#fucked up things happen and people deserve to be understood. okay. even if i don't like it. there is no right answer. there is no world-#where all pain can be avoided. saving private ryan made vet suicides skyrocket. did you know that#but it also understood those people. yknow. and there's more people living that it understood too.#there's just so much nuance that's thrown out when you cover everything you don't like with a blanket. okay#it's more complicated. it's more complicated. please.#in my mind it's far stranger to assume everyone is out there giggling and twiddling their fingers thinking about in/cest#than it is to just assume they don't until proven otherwise.#im so tired. just block me if you don't understand where I'm coming from. I don't care about ship disco/urse and i dont want to live-#constantly worried about what other people think about shit that has no right answer.#everyone is innocent until proven guilty and one reblog of a joking aggressive post isnt enough for me. sorry.#phlyaros' nonsense#euurgh.#welcome to the internet where we judge people based on one reblogged joke and nothing else even if it contradicts us#what a perfect encapsulation of what I don't like about dichotomy argument#tw suicide
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1
[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]
To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.
A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.
And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.
Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.
Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.
He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.
Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.
Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.
Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.
He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.
“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.
With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.
“You okay, kid?”
The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.
“Huh.”
The kid flinched.
“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”
Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.
“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”
“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”
Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.
“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”
“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”
“I also don’t hurt kids.”
“…”
The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.
“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”
“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.
“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”
“…”
Danny waited.
“Peters.”
“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.
“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”
“All of it.”
Peters stared.
Danny shrugged and started looting.
"Y'er so fuckin' weird."
----
See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.
Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.
Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.
Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.
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rosepascal · 3 months
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I'm a feminist obviously || Joel Miller x Reader
I'm a feminist obviously But I wouldn't really mind him savin' me And I know that I'm fine without a man But I think I would like his protection - Prison for Life (Olivia Rodrigo)
Warnings: protective!Joel, he calls you baby girl, reader gets attacked by an asshole guy. Mentions of a fight. Low key dark Joel because he ain't letting that slide. violence, blood, cursing.
a/n: I heard this on tik tok and it just SCREAMS Joel miller sooooo. A good protective Joel fic <3
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The town of Jackson wasn't exactly fond of you and Joel. Let's just say the rumors that started when you first showed up have spread amongst the town members and well, no one cares that they're just rumors.
Safe to say that when you walk through the town center that you aren't just imagining people whispering and staring you down as you walk past them. The only thing you can do is roll your eyes and keep going.
Please, like everyone in this town is free of blood on their hands.
The small general store worker refuses to meet your eyes as you pay for your groceries.
"H-Have a nice day." He says timidly as you stare at him stone faced. At this point you don't even try to change any ones mind. Still at least this kid isn't shooting you a dirty look. You nod and head out the door.
"Is that the Miller's bitch I see." Just your luck. Out of the corner of your eye you see Elijah Davis. Resident Jackson asshole.
Though most people who had a distaste for you and Joel, they stayed out of your way. Elijah was different. He was stupid. See Elijah used to be the big man in Jackson. Self proclaimed best hunter, best shooter. A real tough guy. Always led patrols and that kind of thing really got to his head.
When Joel came around well, they may not like Joel but you can't deny his skills when it comes to survival. Joel brought home the biggest catch, he shot down the most clickers. He saved the most lives and Elijah turned bitter. He just couldn't give it up
"I'm talking to you."
"Fuck off." You hiss at him. You turn so fast he flinches and it makes you smile.
"Seriously, this shit is getting old. Go cry to someone who gives a fuck." On most days he was all bark and no bite but today was different. You feel a harsh tug on your arm as you're pulled into a small side alley. He jams his forearm into your neck and pushes you against a wall.
"I'm getting real sick of you. Acting tough when all you are is Joel millers toy. Bet you keep his bed real warm." He spits angrily. The pressure on your neck gets worse as black dots swarm your vision. You drop your bag and claw his eyes as hard as you can.
"Fuck!" He screams as he lets go of you. Land on your feet but the lack of air causes you to wobble.
"Eat shit." You kick him hard in the side and he tackles you to the ground.
The left side of your face erupts in pain as he punches you hard. He doesn't let up and you do your best to defend yourself the way you learned back in the QZ.
"Hey! What the hell is going on here?" Elijah freezes as he hears the voice of Tommy Miller. Though you've got a bust lip and blood spilling from your mouth you smile.
"You're screwed now." You knee him hard right in the balls and he topples over in pain. Before Tommy could pull you off him you get in one last kick to the jaw.
"That's enough, both of you." He gently pulls you back as someone else pulls Elijah up from the ground. He's still groaning in pain and man is that music to your ears.
"What happened?" Tommy asks as you wipe the blood away from your mouth.
"He attacked me, I defended myself." Though Tommy was Joel's brother he was also Maria's husband and Maria didn't like violence inside the walls of Jackson. She meant business. She even scared Joel a little. You bend down to pick up what's left of your groceries and stuff them in your pockets.
"Look, I know how it goes, I'll pay the fine or work extra hours blah blah, See you Sunday for dinner." Your face aches as you walk.
The only thing you want now is a warm bath and a nap. You don't hear Joel as you walk inside and for once that's a good thing. Ellie appears at the back door ready to show something when her face scrunches up.
"What the fuck happened to you?"
"What?!" You hear Joel's voice come from behind her and you sigh.
"Thanks Ellie." Joel storms in the house.
His eyes frantically looking around until they land on you. Particularly on your fucked up face. His eyes turn dark as he orders Ellie to go outside. She leaves but not before mouthing Good Luck to you. He's like predator the way he walks up to you. His mouth twitching as anger swirls in his eyes.
"Who did this to you?" He gently tips your head up. It scares you how calm he is right now.
"Joel he was just being-"
"He? It was Elijah wasn't it." He growled lowly.
Sighing you know you can't hide it from him forever. He clenches his jaw and leaves to go to the medicine cabinet. With a clean rag he wipes away the dried blood and patches you up as best he can. Unfortunately most of your injuries will just have to heal on its own.
"M'gonna go take a bath." You stretch your arms out and wince slightly as you tilt your neck. Joel clocks it immediately.
"You need anything baby girl?"
"No, I'm okay." He kisses the top of your head and waits for you to go upstairs.
Once he hears the water running he grabs his rifle and leaves. It's like the townspeople can see the steam coming out of his ears. Joel's got a murderous look on his face as he storms through the town.
"Joel!" He glances to see Tommy chasing after him but he doesn't stop. He goes right to the little town hall and storms into Maria's. She looks unamused as he slams the door open.
"Where is he?!" Joel slams his hands on her desk.
"Doctors, pretty beat up and still crying about it." She doesn't even need to ask, she knows why he's here.
"I'm gonna kill em."
"No you aren't."
"If you think-"
"Joel!" Maria stands and stares him down. He's angry, seething with rage at the thought of that punk little shit laying a hand on you.
"I know you're angry, so am I. He's to blame here and he will be punished to the full extent of the law." She says calmly.
"So what? He gets thrown in jail for a couple days? Has to do extra patrols? Give up dessert?"
"I know you're angry, but don't do anything you'll regret. I can't protect you from the law forever Joel." She can't lose Joel, he's a valuable member of the community and he's family.
He clenches his fists and nods his head. Tommy appears and walks out with him. Trying to talk him out of what ever plan he's got brewing in his head. He knows that Joel won't back down that easy.
"He hurt her, I warned him that if he ever touched her he was a dead man." Joel smirks as he passes the doctors. Outside is Elijah bandages all over his face and a scared look in his eyes when he sees Joel.
Count your days motherfucker.
Joel disappears for a week. Out on a supply run alone and god did it make you nervous. He kissed you sweet before he left. Promised he'd come back. His fingers traced your face. Trying to be as gentle as he can around the sore spots.
"I love you." He mumbles quietly, "You know I'd do anything for you." You hum and kiss him again.
"I know," You can handle yourself, you've proved that time and time again you know how to protect yourself.
But with Joel you don't always have to. Knowing he'd burn down anything in his path for you means the world. Because you'd do the same.
You see Elijah once or twice in town while Joel's gone. He's on double patrol duty before his trial. Then he just, disappears. At first you don't notice it but then you hear whispers around town. A patrol went out with 4 and came back with 3.
When Joel comes back you tell him. Elijah's trial was yesterday and he never showed. They went to his room and he wasn't there. All his things were but he wasn't.
He was just, gone.
A few days later Tommy comes knocking on your door.
"Joel here?" You nod and call Joel down.
"It's been a week and no one's found Elijah. So it seems his trial is postponed indefinitely."
"Okay, thanks for coming to tell us." You squeeze Joel's hand and he just stays quiet. Tommy looks at Joel and deep down all three of you know exactly what happened with Elijah. But there's no proof and Tommy isn't going to turn over his own brother.
"Dinner next week?" You ask and he nods.
"I'm sure Maria would love to catch up." When he leaves you turn to Joel.
"Joel...If they ever found out-"
"I don't care."
"I do!" Your voice raises for a second before you stop yourself from shouting.
"Joel I won't let you jeopardize anything for me."
"Well that's too damn bad." He gets up and walks over to you. He cups your face and stares at you with an intensity you've never seen before.
"Baby girl, he hurt you." Joel would risk it all for you. Death, prison, anything. He kisses you gently as to not hurt your still healing lip.
"Nobody messes with my girl."
In a world like this you need to be able to survive, to fight and to make the hard decisions. But sometimes it's exhausting. Constantly protecting yourself wears you down. You know you can but you don't mind the idea of being protected by someone else.
You know you should hate the violence, the fierceness of his actions and words. But you don't. How could you when he's all you ever wanted.
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florencemtrash · 10 months
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Miguel O'Hara x Reader
What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?
Update: Decided to commit to writing this fic! Check the link for taglist+masterlist post
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I recently watched Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and I just... I understand why the internet has been losing their minds over Miguel O’Hara... I really do. 
And! It got me thinking about how we really know nothing about Miguel’s wife/family - at least when it comes to his film counterpart. We get a few scenes of him with his daughter and not much else. We also have no knowledge of whether or not a version of his wife and daughter exist on Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe). 
So it got me thinking of an idea for a Miguel O’Hara x Reader fanfic:
>>>
Reader is the Earth-1610 version of Miguel’s late wife and also - dun dun DUNNNNNN - Miles’s AP Art teacher. She’s his favorite teacher and he’s her all time favorite student one of her best students. On Earth-1610 Miguel O’Hara and Gabriella don’t exist and Reader has recently gotten out of a long-term relationship after being cheated on. During his multiverse travels The Spot learns just how important Reader is to Miles and Miguel and kidnaps her as part of his revenge plot. 
Imagine the chaos that would ensue once Reader finds out that a) Miles is Spiderman and b) her alternate reality husband tried to *very aggressively* stop Miles from saving his father's life.
Reader: *Holding onto Miguel for dear life as they try to outrun The Spot*
Reader: Miguel did WHAT?!
Miles: Right, Miss Y/l/n? 
Miguel: Listen kid I already apologized for that. 
Reader: *slaps Miguel on the shoulder*
Reader: What the hell is wrong with you? He’s just a teenager!
Miguel: Cariño, can we please discuss this at a later time?
Reader: …
Reader: What did you just call me?
Miguel: …
Miles: …Aren’t you his wife?
Miguel: *visibly sweating*
Reader: I’M HIS WIFE?!
This was really just a midnight thought and I'm hoping someone will expand upon the idea. If such a fanfic exists, I beg of you to tell me about it! If it doesn't... well I might just be forced to do it myself...
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flamingpudding · 6 months
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Message to the past
Was one nice family dinner in the Wayne Family really possible? Jason was starting to think it wasn't. The evening started out so well, for once he did not have any sort of beef with Bruce for the moment. He got to spend time with Alfred preparing the dinner. Neither Demon Brat nor Pretender were at each other's throats because of a case yet and there was no argument about to happen with Dickie either and he didn't feel like avoiding Bruce. Did he mention he didn't feel like leaving the Manor at the first sight of his old man?
Everything felt like it was gearing up to be a nice and well deserved family dinner with all his siblings being in one space for once.
That was until a Lazarus Green portal opened and a fucking silver green tin can smack dab hit him square in the face. Causing him to fall backwards in his chair and hitting his head painfully on the floor. Why didn't they have carpet in the dinner room again? Oh right, someone -one of his siblings- got mud all over it after patrol and Alfred decided the dinner room didn't need it anymore.
Once the first shock of what had just happened passed. They got to inspect the tin can and found a letter inside it.
Dear future Dad,
Gramps Clockwork spoilered that there is a mess up in the timeline because of the speedsters and I can fix it like this, which is why I am writing this. Please pick me up in the attached location marked on the map. My current self is in need of saving and I honestly would like to spare myself at least a little of the trauma that's about to happen.
Also please bring some explosives. You always regretted not blowing up a corupted govermental facility, so here is your chance of doing so! Be proud, though. I blew up a bunch of them in the future, with supervision, of course, from my uncles and aunts, so great grandpa wouldn't worry.
Please pick me up? Thanks if you do!
Your future adopted son.
PS: please ignore any complains my current self might have. I was in server need of a real parental figure and as you like to say as stubborn as grandpa.
PSS: also please stop antagonizing grandpa about my adoption. It's bad enough that you had to fight him over it in the first place.
PSSS: please bring great grandpa's cookies, I beg you please! I swear I will do all my schoolwork and be a straight A student if you do!
The girls of the family started to pout while the boys exchanged glances. Jason narrowed his eyes at his brothers. There was a silent argument happening and Bruce was watching them all also.
But if there was one thing Jason was sure about. It was that the tin can smacked him in the face. Which meant the letter was his and the time shenanigans arson kid with sass was going to be his kid. His brothers AND Bruce can fight him over that.
Like the kid has said in his letter.
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beanytuesday · 1 month
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GUE CHAPTER 4: LIVING DEAD
[But first: a brief message from the creator, which would have appeared BEFORE the comic, if I didn't just barely slide in under tumblrs 30 image limit]
Hello Everyone,
I was in the process of inking this comic when I suffered my debilitating hand injury, which set me back nearly a year. Even before I injured myself, I never intended for GUE 4 to take this long— and so in the interest of expediting it’s release, I took some shortcuts in the inking process through the use of generative AI.
Hah! Just kidding. But now it sounds less bad to say that I did save time by using modified pencilwork in place of inks, and the result is an end product that is decidedly a little rough.
I promise, nobody is upset about this as much as I am; I really wanted to present everyone with a perfect end product. But creative stuff like this has a half-life, and as much as I am proud of my work on GUE 4, I am ready to move on and get to work on other projects. (Maybe even… GUE 5? )
If it makes you feel better, just pretend that I’m the Thief And The Cobbler guy, and that GUE 4 is merely an unfinished masterwork pieced together after my untimely death at the hands of Disney gestapo. (Or whatever actually happened to him-- It’s funnier if I don’t look it up. Haha. Parody. Don’t sue me Disney)
And please, don’t freak out when you get to page 5. I started using a new drafting method while working on this comic, and I promise the art gets cleaner quickly. In fact, I think an adapted version of the rough inking method I used here can actually be used to in the future for faster turnaround, without sacrificing quality. Many exciting adventures await.
My deepest thanks for your support. Please enjoy GUE part 4.
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theplumsoldier · 5 months
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sore loser
summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"
pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader
warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
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You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.
Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.
It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.
You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.
Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.
"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.
"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.
The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"
"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.
Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.
"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."
Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"
His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.
With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.
Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.
There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.
You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.
"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.
"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."
Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.
The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.
Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"
The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.
"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"
"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.
"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"
You hated how he was always right.
Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.
"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.
Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."
There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.
You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.
You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.
"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."
He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."
"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."
"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."
This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.
You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"
Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.
Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.
His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.
"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"
Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.
Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.
He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.
Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.
He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.
Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.
"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.
With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.
The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.
"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"
His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."
Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"
That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.
"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.
He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.
"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.
A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.
"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”
You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.
He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.
"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"
"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"
He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.
"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"
He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.
You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.
"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.
You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.
Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.
Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.
Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.
Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.
Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.
A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."
Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.
He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.
You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.
A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.
Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.
You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.
A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.
There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.
Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.
You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.
There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.
"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."
The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.
Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.
"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.
It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.
It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.
A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.
Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.
His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.
"Fuck—"
Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.
Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.
Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.
It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.
At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.
976 notes · View notes
leviscolwill · 7 months
Text
adore
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pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader
summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]
contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?
note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶
now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...
"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."
"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."
your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.
the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.
when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.
"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.
"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.
"i'm-"
"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.
"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.
"is that your boyfriend?"
"ummm, no he's my-"
"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.
"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.
"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.
"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.
"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.
"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.
"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.
the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.
immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.
even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.
"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.
"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.
you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.
thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.
you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.
you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.
you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.
"is it gonna hurt?"
"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.
"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.
you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.
"you're so pretty..."
if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.
"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.
"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.
you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.
"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.
"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.
you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.
he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.
once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.
you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.
"no thanks, i'm not hungry."
"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.
"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.
you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.
but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.
"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.
"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.
"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.
you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.
"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."
you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.
"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?
he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?
"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?
"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?
"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.
"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.
if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.
once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.
you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.
when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.
jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.
you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.
after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.
it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.
no answer.
there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.
you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.
"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.
"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.
"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"
it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.
but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.
it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.
once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.
let's just keep doing what you did all day
i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened
probably best for us :)
1K notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 6 months
Text
Clown Reader reminiscing on days of old enjoying the wonders of trick or treating and their yans helping quench that thirst of nostalgia-
[Clown Reader passes out candy to kids during a Halloween event hosted by the studio. They smile, watching the kids trading and enjoying their treats together.]
Clown Reader: sighs I miss when I was little enough to trick or treat- It's nice to be able to buy my own now, but it's just more fun to wonder around the neighborhood and gets to see all the spooky sights. Ah, well - at least I get to dress up everyday.
Bodyguard Yan, pulling out their phone: Hey,-
Co-star Yan, pulling up with a sack of reader's favorite candies and their phone on their ear: Already ahead of you.
-
[The murder Clown gang pulls up to a person's house pushing clown reader in a wheelbarrow full of candy]
Clown Reader: Trick or Treat!
Home Owner: Aren't you a little too old for-
[The Clown Yans slowly raise their weapons - one pointing a pistol directly at the person's forehead]
Home Owner: Just take the whole bowl
Murder Clown: And your wallet
Home Owner: and my wallet....
Murder Clown: Who wants pizza?!
Clown Reader: I do!
-
[Clown Reader knocks on someones door]
Clown Reader: Trick or Treat!
[A bloody Slasher Yan opens the door and stares down at the clown. They pick up the bowl by the door and pour the entire thing in their bag, stroking their head fondly and leaving red streaks in their hair]
Clown Reader: Thank you! Love your costume - are you and the house next door matching?
Victim: please.... help...
[Slasher Yan slams the door shut]
-
[Clown Reader shows lab monster Yan pictures from Halloween as a kid]
Clown Reader: And this year my parents let me do my makeup by myself. I was a cute kid, huh - Kev?
[The lab monster holds the pictures like the precious treasures they are - mocking the scientists outside the glass room by waving them in their direction]
Yan Scientist: Why haven't we killed that thing by now... Fans would give their life savings for just one of those pictures.
Scientist Two: Weird way to describe yourself-
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gilverrwrites · 1 month
Text
Skinny Dipping
Pairing: Dean WInchester/F!Reader
Authors note: This has the been the hardest, and biggest of my re-mastered fics so far. I’m pretty sure the original was an amalgamation of imagines from supernaturalimagine and dirtysupernaturalimagines but I couldn’t even guess at which imagines exactly. This is like, my 4th public/semi-public fic in like 3 months, I’m starting to feel like this is a kink I didn’t know I had.  Also, Metallica have not cancelled anything, don’t worry. (and I don’t know jack about cars, people that do, please don’t come for me, I really did try, k, thanks, bye.) 💖
Plot: Reader is a mechanic who Dean's been checking in on, and checking out for a while now. Dean has the perfect excuse to see her after baby breaks down nearby.
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Rating: M/18+
Words: 2936
Content: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, reckless drunken/tipsy behaviour, being submerged underwater, skinny dipping, teasing, brief retraining, size-difference, dry-humping, (or I guess wet-humping), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, p in v, water sex, mild angst.
Please remember: If you never try, you’ll never know.
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You switch off the radio, listening to the purr of your car's ignition as you pull up behind a familiar black impala. It was a beauty, but it was nothing compared to your ‘70 boss. You watched as its owner climbed out of the front seat and headed towards you.
Its owner being your old friend Dean Winchester. He and his brother had saved you from a coven of witches a few years back, and ever since he’s been popping back into your life every few months. ‘Working on a case nearby’, ‘just passing through’, ‘baby needs a new compressor’. Every visit he laid the flirting on thicker. You weren’t sure if he was just joking around with you, or if he was serious, or if he saw you as a challenge. Either way you’d been making him work for it. Today it just so happened that his car had broken down a few miles out from your shop, the perfect excuse to see you on a Friday night.
You were pulled from your train of thought by a light tapping on your window. You snapped your head to the side to see Dean hovering over your door. His familiar smile set your heart racing. Okay, so maybe his seduction tactics were working, he was hot, who could blame you?
“Is there a problem, officer?” You joked, rolling down your window.
Dean rested an arm on the hood and leaned in. “No, no, just a routine check.” You knew he impersonated officers and agents all the time, but you hadn’t seen it firsthand. It was impressive how easily he slid into character.
“I am, however, gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle for a full strip search.”
Act ruined.
“At least buy me drink first.” You quipped.
“If you can help me, I’ll buy you a whole dinner.” He winked and opened the car door from the outside. You raised your brows at him but climbed out anyway before making a b-line for the impala’s engine.
“What’s wrong?” You directed your question to the car in the same tone you would address a small child or animal, gently rubbing a hand across its roof as you walked beside it. "Has someone been neglecting you?”
“Hey!” Dean barked, clearly offended. “I take better care of this baby than I do myself.”
At that you looked back over at him. He’d forgone his usual flannel today, leaving him in a pair of jeans that hugged him in all the right places and a grey t-shirt that clung tight and accentuated his broad chest. By the time your eyes reached his face, Dean was sporting a wicked grin, clearly ecstatic to have caught you checking him out. You avoid his smug gaze by popping the hood of his car to take a look at the engine.
“You weren’t kidding.” You whistled; Dean really was taking care of the thing.  The motor was almost gleaming. You felt his warm hand suddenly press against your lower back and turn to look up at him. The expression on his face could only be described as that of a proud father.
“Yeah.” He agreed before pointing to the main battery with his free hand: “This is the problem. It’s busted.”
“Ah, you’re gonna need a new one. I’m surprised you don’t keep a spare.” 
“Yeah.” To his credit, he looked pretty sheepish. “I normally do, but guess I forgot when the last one went out.”
“I don’t have one.” You said, pursing your lips to express your sympathies.
Dean didn’t respond, biting his lip while he waited for you to continue.
“But I could give you a jump start if you gotta head out soon.” You bring the hood back down and start heading to the boot of your car.
“No good,” Dean calls after you. “I’m not in a rush, but I don’t have enough gas to get me where I’m going.”
“Well… I’ve got a guy. He’s a few towns over. He’s closed at this time.” You inform as you open your boot and pull out your tow rope, flashing it to Dean with a smile. I can tow you into town for tonight, then drive you there and back in the morning.”
“I knew I could count on you!”
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An hour later, you’d slowly but surely managed to drag Dean and his baby back into town, argued with him about him staying at a motel or on your couch (you’d won), and successfully swindled him into buying you that dinner he’d promised. Dinner being take-put pizza and over-priced ice-cream. Now, the two of you were sitting in your backyard, sharing the aforementioned ice-cream and an old bottle of Jack Daniels you’d pulled from the back of your cupboards. 
“So,” Dean began, his speech slurred by the spoon hanging from his mouth. How’s the garage doin’?”
You take a sip of the JD and proceed to suck on your teeth as you consider how to respond.
“Honestly, bad. Ever since that shitty corporate place set up shop down the road, we’ve been going downhill.” You punctuate your statement with another sip from the bottle before offering it to Dean. “I’m keeping it up and running by tooth and claw, but truthfully, it’s probably only got a few months left in it.” 
He gives you a sombre smile as he exchanges the tub of ice cream for the bottle. It's a touchy subject, but you can’t help admiring the way his neck moves as he tilts his head back to drink. You avert your eyes by scooping up the last bit of cold, sugary goodness and placing the empty container on the grass beside you.
“That sucks.” He places a hand on your shoulder, attempting to offer comfort. “That really sucks. Do you have a back-up plan?”
You grab the bottle back from Dean and take another sip before answering.
“I dunno. Sometimes I think about doing what you do. Kinda.” You begin. You don’t miss the way his entire body stiffens before you clarify. “Without the monsters. Just hit the road, get drunk at every bar in the country, visit Disney, become Metallica groupie, an-”
“You know they cancelled that tour, right?” Dean butts in.
“WHAT?” You shake his hand off and stare up at him in disbelief.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. The smile on his face is anything but sympathetic.
“Bastards.” You cross your arms and pout dramatically. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but the laugh that escapes Dean's lips is magical, and you can’t help but join in. When he returns his hand to your shoulder, this time reaching for the furthest from him, thus wrapping himself around you, your skin tingles, and you let yourself fall into him.
As the two of you slowly seize your giggling, Dean checks his watch. He quirks an evocative brow at you when he speaks, “It’s getting late. Maybe we should head inside?”
You mull it over, dramatically swaying your head from side to side before you voice your decision. “Actually, I have a better idea.”
You stand up, offering your hand to Dean, who eyes you sceptically. Nevertheless, he takes the bait, placing his hand in yours and allowing you to lead him toward the footpath just outside your garden.
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“Where are you taking me?” he asks, and you can sense the caution in his voice. You assume it’s the hunter in him being paranoid, and you know for a fact that his free hand is hovering over the knife he keeps tucked into the back of his jeans at all times.
“I’m taking you here,” you answer as you pull him through the last set of trees and onto the shore of the local lake. You scan the surrounding area as you kick off your shoes. Satisfied that nobody is nearby, you start pulling off your trousers.
As you bend down to pull your socks off, you look up at Dean. He’s staring back at you intensely, mouth open, cheeks pink.
When you start pulling your top over your head you feel his fingers lightly brush against your hips. He’d stepped closer, and you’re tempted to touch him back or to reach up and kiss him. But you don’t. Instead, you throw your top over his head and sprint for the water.
“RACE YOU!” You challenge, discarding your bra and panties before you reach the water and forward dive in. Dean follows you moments later with a cannonball that splashes your face just as you’re resurfacing from your own dive.
“Fuck! That’s colder than I expected.” You yell to him.
“I’ll warm you up.” Dean replies as he swims close to you. You let his hands return to your hips, not expecting it when he dunks you back under the water.
You cough and splurge as he brings you back up. You flail your arms around until you find the top of his head, and you cling to him for dear life, but Deans is stronger, taller, and he’s found solid ground to plant his feet onto below the water. He escapes your grip and throws you under again.
“STOP. MERCY!” You yell when you come back up. This time, you use your legs for safety, wrapping them around his hips. You'd be safe if you could just get a grip on his arms. You’d been too distracted to notice his erection until you feel it poking at you. You’re about to make a comment about it, but Dean speaks first.
“You’re cute when you’re scared.” He laughs, you silence him with a swift but playful punch to the chest. In defence he grabs at your wrists, able to trap both in just one of his hands. His other hand slides up your arms, over your shoulder, your neck, until he reaches your cheek. He leisurely rubs his thumb against your wet skin.
You stay like that for a while, watching each other, before you finally ask, “Are you gonna kiss me or what?”
Without any further hesitation Dean lunges forward, forcing his lips against yours. His kiss is hard and animalistic; he skips straight past the pecking and teasing to roaming your mouth with his tongue. His fingers leave your cheek and weave into your hair, holding you against him, his stubble scratches against your skin.
In a play for dominance, you dart your own tongue out, grazing his chapped lips, but he denies you. Instead, he pulls away from your lips, refocusing his attention on nipping and kissing at your jaw, neck, and collarbone.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this.” He utters onto your skin.
“What, this exact scenario?” You joke.
“Not exactly.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and the gust of air against your skin makes you tremble.
“Then what?” You challenge. Your inability to touch him is frustrating you. In an attempt to stimulate him back, you grip your legs around him tighter, using him as leverage to grind against him. The tip of his cock doesn’t quite reach your clit, but its added pressure helps it spread your lips. “Tell me.”
He drops his hand from your head, and cups it under your asscheek. Firmly guiding you up and down, assisting you in rutting against his cock. Shakey breaths become grunts, and after a few seconds he releases your wrists so that he can grip you with both hands. Free to move, you shimmy down his body until you can feel his dick brush against your clit with each grind.
“Come on, tell me.” You plead, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, your grip tightening every time he hits your sweet spot. You know he's not shy, that he’s just getting lost in the feeling, and it pains you to say it, but eventually, you taunt. “I’m not gonna fuck you if you don’t tell me.”
He whimpers at your empty threat but finally confesses. “Just you. Your body, under me. Every night, I think about how you’d look, how you’d feel squirming, moaning my name.”
“Fuck. That’s hot.” You reply and he smiles as you plant your lips against his once again.
“Can I fuck you now?” He asks, speech slurred as he tries to speak between kisses.
“Yes.” You respond instantly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Please fuck me, Dean.”
He doesn’t hesitate. His grip on your ass is like a vice as he lifts you up slightly. You both work in sync to position yourselves just right until he lowers you onto his cock, slowly pressing into you. There’s some resistance as he stretches your walls, but the sound of his whispered praises helps you relax until he finally bottoms out, stretching you in all the right places.
“Fuck, that feels so good. You took me so well.” He affirms, and even though he’s already balls deep, you can’t help the heat that spreads across your face.
He begins lifting you again before you can respond, sliding you up and down his cock in slow, steady movements. You grip tight to his shoulders and hips with your hands and knees, using them as leverage points to help move your body up and down. Each thrush is slow and shallow, but Dean seems to be loving it; his head rolls back, and he releases breathy moans with every rock.
“Shit.” You shout, holding tighter still when Dean unexpectedly shifts below you, repositioning his legs to a sturdier position. You watch through hazy eyes as he reaches up and grips your hand, before guiding it down the tight space between your bodies. You get the message quickly, and begin rubbing your clit in lazy circles, keeping in time with the pace of Dean's cock.
The added stimulation had your toes curling in no time. When your pussy starts clenching around Dean’s cock, you see the sudden concentration in his face. His brow furrows, and he bites his lip as he focuses on riding you through your orgasm. The sight was the final push you need to take you over the edge.
“Fuck, Dean. Fuck fuck fuck, that feels good.” You cry out as you hit your climax.
“Keep saying my name, baby.” Dean begs as he continues rolling your hips together. You feel his body shake as he starts to struggle with your combined weights as he chases his own release.
You try to assist, desperately pumping yourself up and down despite the newfound sensitivity as you chant his name.
“Fuck, yes baby.” You feel the twitch of his cock inside you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he hits his orgasm, rutting his cock as deep as he can as he cums inside you. “oohhh yeah.”
You stay in position for a long time following, holding on tight to each other, listening to each other's breathing as you come back down, until Dean guides your body backwards so that you’re face to face again. “How you feelin’?”
“Good.” You reply with a smile.
“Good.” He grins at you mischievously before plunging backwards into the water, taking you with him.
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“So, was that everything you imagined it to be?”
He purses his lips in thought before teasingly responding. “Eh, it wasn’t bad.”
You both laugh as you lay your head down on Dean's bare chest; his arms envelop your body as you both blankly look up at the stars. You play with the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him when you emerged from the water and re-dressed.
“You should do it.” Dean says when you're both fully settled down.
“Do what?” You query, popping your head up to look at him, unsure what he’s talking about.
“Hit the road.” He clarifies, revisiting your earlier conversation. “I mean, life on the road isn’t easy or sustainable, trust me, I know.”
“But…” You prompt, knowing fully that he wasn’t going to stop there.
“But it could be fun for a while. If it’s what you wanna do. Hell, I’d totally be a roadie if… you know.”
“I know,” You reply. You’re smiling at him, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The reminder of your failing business stung, but you didn’t want it to spoil your night. You lean forward, caressing his cheek; his stubble feels rough against your fingers. You gently pull his face forward and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I might. I probably will. If it comes to it.”
“I can’t come with you.” He says when you lean away. You hadn’t expected him to want to come with you. Hoped, maybe? But you knew it wasn’t a possibility.
“I know.” You repeat.
He carefully reaches up to run his hand across your damp hair as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is longer, softer than any you’d shared all night. When you’re done, he lets his head fall back against the ground, and you perch yourself against his chest once more. 
“You’ll still call me though, right?”
“Always.” He replies instantly. “You’re my best girl. Well, second-best girl.”
“The car?” You ask deadpan. Of course, the car is his number one.
“Who else?” He replies shamelessly.
You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, entwined in each other’s arms, spent and damp under the stars, until eventually, you feel your lids growing heavy. You fight it for a while, willing yourself to remain awake, until eventually your tiredness wins out. You cuddle closer into the warmth of Dean's chest as you fall asleep.
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mcflymemes · 1 year
Text
DRAMATIC & PROTECTIVE RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS *  for the ones who want to keep you safe from harm
get behind me.
go inside and lock the door and don't come out until i say so.
are you all right? where are you hurt?
over my dead body.
i promised them i'd keep you safe.
i sleep better when you're next to me.
are you serious? i'm not letting you risk your life.
don't go. it's safer here.
i should have been here. this is my fault.
here. take this gun. don't pull the trigger unless it's absolutely necessary.
they told me to watch you.
i won't let anyone lay a hand on you.
stay close to me.
i'm not worth saving. please.
can you stay? just for a little while? it would help.
it's too dangerous out there.
i thought i'd lost you.
can you hear me? hello? where are you?
they're all afraid of me.
they told me you'd be trouble. clearly that was an understatement.
one of us has to make it out of here.
is that a bruise?
get back. get back right now.
did they touch you?
i already lost you once. i'm not going to lose you again.
a few more steps. we're nearly there. i've got you.
where does it hurt? let me see.
oh my god, you're covered in blood.
i love you, but you have to go.
climb on my back. i'll carry you.
i wish you'd stay.
i slept here all night. i couldn't leave you.
stay with me. i can keep you safe.
no. i've made my decision. you're staying here.
holy shit. are you okay? what the hell happened?
we have to get inside right now.
quick! hide! in here!
if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.
if they attack again, we'll be ready.
this never should have happened.
i want you to run, okay? run and don't look back.
you're all right. you're safe. it's over.
i'll feel better once you're out of this.
i don't have nightmares when you're here.
where have you been? i've been calling you all night.
your phone went straight to voicemail. what's going on?
i don't want anything to happen to you.
i can't stand the thought of losing you.
i won't let them touch you.
when we met, i promised myself i'd keep you safe.
where'd they go? i'll give them a piece of my mind.
here. squeeze my hand if it hurts.
i'll lay beside you.
no. it's non-negotiable. you're staying here.
i don't want you to die, okay?
listen to me! i know what i'm doing!
i can't lose you again!
do you hear me? i love you! i've always loved you.
i've got you. i'm right here.
can i stay? i'll take the couch.
tell them you're with me.
you can make it. i believe in you.
are you kidding me? who decided this?
here, i'll pick you up.
get back in the car. i'll handle this.
if anyone can do it, it's you.
let me carry you to safety.
i don't do well when you're away.
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Bonus DP x DC prompt “Star-crossed lovers” to this prompt where Batclan ship “Pitch Pearl”
"Give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun." -Juliet (act 3, scene 2)
Red Hood stays in Amity Park to observe the situation after the romantic conflict resolution between Fenton and Phantom.
One day from a rooftop next to the Fenton Works he sees Fenton putting toxic ectoplasm in a bottle on the table, sighing and pouring it into a glass.
The horror of plunging into the Lazarus pit flashes before Jason’s eyes. Who would be crazy enough to want to experience such a thing? And for what?
As a proud bookworm, he could not help but remember the story of Romeo and Juliet at the same moment.
"My only love sprung from my only hate, too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me that I must love my enemy." -Juliet (act 1, scene 5)
Parents who are against relationships and hate the fact that their child’s partner exists? Checked out.
Dead Romeo? Uh, yeah, definitely.
Vial of poison? Freely available in the lab.
There can be only one logical conclusion: Seeing the dead lover, Fenton thinks only about how soon to die himself.
Is Fenton ready to join his lover in the Kingdom of the Dead? He has no guarantee of returning as a ghost, so why risk it?
Jason*runs to save “Juliet”*: I defy you, stars!
~~~~
Needless to say, sleep-deprived Danny is extremely unhappy when a guy in a leather jacket breaks into his house and tries to take his lunch away. 
Both boys panick, scream and absolutely not hear each other.
Jason: Don’t do this! It’s not worth it, there must be another way! 
Danny: Give me my soup back, thief! Take the turkey, it’s going to go bad.
Jason: I am serious.“ Love moderately. Long love doth so.
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.” Leave the ectoplasm to the dead ones, boy.
Danny: What a coincidence, I’m already dead deep deep inside.
Jason: Don’t joke, you should talk to a therapist.
Danny: Great idea. Jazz, help! Human in the house! This is not a drill!
Jason:..In general, both of you should talk to the Justice League. They can protect Phantom from your parents, don’t worry. You are not alone. 
~~~~
Fenton, sitting in front of the Justice League.
Flash: So, you and Phantom, how did you decide to start dating?
Danny: Well, what can I say in defense.. "Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty." -Romeo (act 5, scene 3)
Justice League:
Danny: Just kidding. I learned a whole quote for this. Can someone be proud of me, please? 
Batman: Hmmm
Danny: Thanks. And relax, I knew him before he died. Our relationship has always been complicated but we literally can’t exist without each other. So don’t worry about our breakup, it’s unlikely.
Danny: And don’t think I’d kill myself in such a stupid way, it’s boring. You might want to be more concerned about whether or not I’m shocking myself with a Fenton portal than watching my food. My stomach is indestructible, tested by years of ecto-contaminated cooking. But I don’t want to die. All this RIP is a complete lie. Trust me.
Red Hood: You. use to eat. ectoplasm?!
Danny: Yes, it's very nutritious. But you need to develop tolerance to it, otherwise you will be able to try it only once in a lifetime.
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Note
Hi lovely Kat, congrats to 2K followers! 🥳❤️
I would like to request a post-war drabble taking place during Levi's first birthday after the Rumbling. The reader knows about her pregnancy for a couple of weeks but decides to keep it a secret until his birthday. They could have a nice celebratory dinner with the 104th kids, Gabi, Falco and Onyankopon, and the reader decides to break the big news to Levi just after they leave.
thank you rose!! i also accidentally turned this into a oneshot bc i couldn't get myself to decide how i wanted levi to react and ended up word vomiting as a result ksdjfksdjf
World's Grumpiest Dad | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot
✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff
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The lights were pretty at this time of night.
You began wheeling Levi back from the diner after waving goodbye to some of the 104th, Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. They had visited to grab dinner at a nice restaurant in celebration of Levi's birthday, much to his own disdain. Of course he was grumpy the entire night, just from the fact that he wasn't expecting to get all of this attention throughout the day. It was draining—but it was nice to see everyone in a setting that wasn't hauling ass trying to remedy all the damage from the Rumbling.
"Please tell me we're going home," he grumbled.
"Almost," you reassured. "Just going to stop at the dock first. Sunset's pretty."
Levi didn't protest against this change of plans. His evening strolls with you always played an important part in keeping him sane, especially throughout the height of the war.
You reached into your bag as you continued walking Levi forward, eventually pulling out a small box and setting it on Levi's lap.
You could physically see him hesitate, not having expected the sudden object to be handed to him out of nowhere.
"It's your birthday," you reminded, knowing that he was going to have this reluctant reaction. Levi was never a fan of gifts, but this one was important.
"It's going to clutter the house."
"You don't even know what it is yet."
He let out an exasperated sigh, slowly opening the top of the cardboard box. There wasn't any wrapping around the box and there wasn't any filling inside. It was just a plain box with a singular object resting within it: a handmade mug with one of those uneven handles that indicated that you were likely the one that made this at some shoddy pottery studio, which added to its charm.
"What's wrong with the ones we have at home?"
It's not that he didn't like it, he just didn't see the need for an extra mug in your kitchen cabinet.
You groaned as you rolled your eyes.
"Just read it, you asshole."
He pulled the mug out of the box and turned it so that he could see the text that was carefully painted onto it in your handwriting:
"World's Grumpiest Dad"
You couldn't see his face, but you were able to essentially imagine the furrowing of his eyebrows from the confusion that was no doubt running through his mind.
His body posture visibly changed once he realized—he sat a bit further back into his chair, his clenched jaw relaxed, and you even heard a small gasp escape his lips.
"...you're pregnant."
You turned his wheelchair so that he was facing the horizon and took a seat next to him on the nearby bench that you had wheeled him next to. Giving him a small smile, you nodded, eyeing him intensely for how he was going to react to the big news.
"Yeah," you whispered. "Just got confirmation a little while ago, but wanted to save it as a surprise."
You could tell that he was struggling to process. The two of you weren't particularly trying for a kid, but mutually agreed that if it happened, then it happened.
He switched his gaze from your eyes and back down to the mug to reread the text.
"...'m gonna be a dad," he mumbled, although it wasn't clear what emotion was behind it. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not, which was only adding to your nerves.
Levi looked back up at you, his eyes softening once he saw the concern in yours.
Having a kid was never really something he imagined for himself, although this was primarily because he couldn't afford the luxury of imagining the concept of the Titan-free world that you were in. It always provided him and the rest of your comrades the drive to keep fighting, but the idea of settling down in a world that was safe from man-eating Titans—a world in which you could birth and raise a child in peace—never crossed his mind for him.
"You're going to be the world's grumpiest dad," you corrected, trying to lighten the mood in an attempt to dispel your own anxiety in addition to the hesitant look he was wearing.
It worked to some extent, with his eyebrows coming together again into a frown.
"I'm not grumpy."
"Then why are you frowning?" you challenged.
"That's just my face, you brat."
He barely got to finish his sentence before you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"It's okay," you whispered with a small smile. "I like you grumpy. I'm sure our kid will like it too. It's part of your charm."
You were too close to be able to see the slight hint of color rising to his cheeks at your comment, but you could tell that it affected him as soon as he averted his gaze.
"What is it?" you asked as you tilted your head at him.
Levi immediately cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to suppress how flustered he had just gotten over your comment.
"Nothing."
He handed you the mug and began to push himself up from the wheelchair, which immediately got your attention.
"Need to stretch," he grumbled. "Been sitting in that damn thing for hours."
You watched as he walked over to the dock railings, noting that his limp wasn't as noticeable, likely because he hadn't been putting strain on his knee for the past few hours since he's been more or less just sitting throughout dinner and your stroll here. Sighing, you placed the mug back into the box and placed it securely on the bench before walking up next to him.
The wind was blowing through his dark locks, causing it to fall perfectly back onto his head due to his undercut, tempting you to run your fingers through it if you didn't already know that Levi was just going to shoo your hand away.
There was a hint of concern in his one good eye. The frown lines were present despite his expression being soft, and his lips were slightly turned downwards—not enough to be a frown, but noticeable enough that you knew what was on his mind.
"You're going to be a great dad."
Levi's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise, not expecting you to come in with the reassurance. You were right in that his unease over his own ability to be a good parent was what was bugging him, even though he knew that the anxiety was ultimately unfounded, given his interactions with the kids he had basically helped to raise to some extent—the 104th, Isabel, and even Gabi and Falco.
He placed his hand over your lower belly before looking back up into your eyes, his lip turning up subtly before whispering to you.
"I know."
#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @deepzombieyouth @lovedbylevi join my taglist! and please lmk if you wanna be taken off
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Inspired by that post about Thranduil being all defensive/protective over Gimli in Valinor:
We all know the head canon of Thorin being all "no nephew of mine even associates with an elf" BUT
Just imagine, in a world where all three Durins survived, and Tauriel saved Kili (again), and some other elf healed his and Fìli's wounds last minute.
Thorin saw both his nephews almost die before him, has LIVED through how the gold sickness twists the mind and perception of things, and after coming to terms with Bilbo's theft of the Arkenstone, he for a while questions EVERYTHING.
And yes, he totally has a dramatic phase of self pity, holing up in his rooms, drinking Elvish wine (cus thats all there is atm) and smoking Gandalf's pipeweed, and mourning how "everything i knew is a LIE" and "if elves can make such amazing wine there HAS to be some good in them" and "I almost got my boys killed I am such a failure boooohoooo", and after Bilbo kicks his ass out if depression (and a STRONG worded letter from his sister) he is like "okay FUCK y'all I have TRAUMA TM and will do WHATEVER I WANT!!"
So when Kili all shyly comes forward one day asking if Tauriel can please stay with them in the mountain because she's banished from the Woodland Realm he's all "OF COURSE she can stay, you do you my precious boy, if Thranduil is stupid enough to let such a great warrior go we'll stick it to him"
and BAM, Tauriel joins Dwalin in leading Erebor's guard, and Dwalin is torn between "excuse ME u want me to share my job with a pointy eared maiden?" And "holy hell that lass has fire can't show how impressed I am".
And Tauriel Takes No Shit even from her own boyfriend, so Kìli is forced to take his new responsibilities seriously because "I did NOT lose my home to live with a CHILD, Kili", and Fili gets dragged into the whole thing without really understanding what happened, but hey, his lil brother is happy so who cares really.
And whenever someone at council (like Dain) complains about an Elf in the mountain, Thorin goes absolutely FERAL like "are you saying I don't know what's best for this mountain I just won from A DRAGON?! are you suggesting that my perfect baby nephew has bad taste? Huh? Exactly, didn't think so!!!!" And is a protective Papa bear "listen Tauriel if someone gives you shit you SHOOT them. No, not killing them, but, you know, just maim them a little to make a point. Trust me I'm the king."
And once Kili and Tauriel have their first child Thorin constantly kidnaps the kid and has them in the forge before they can even talk because "need to keep up that good old dwarven influence".
Anyway I'll go cry myself to sleep now.
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Calling them by their name
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Pairings: Suna, Oikawa, Bokuto, Atsumu, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kenma, Kuroo X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Humor
Format: Headcanons
Warnings: Some cussing done by me, Suggestive in Iwaizumi's part
Word Count: 1.2K
A/n: It's been a while since I last wrote for Haikyuu so-
This TikTok compilation on YouTube
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↳Yamaguchi
"Yamaguchi Tadashi!"
The man looks at you frightened, like he just saw a ghost or smthn lmao, making you Almost feel bad about this prank.
"What? What happened?" "Did you eat all the Ice cream I saved for myself?"
Lmao now he's scared af.
"I-I No I didn't! I put it in the freezer like you told me too!" "Then why isn't it there? You're telling me that the freezer ate it itself?" "IDK!" "Yamaguchi Tadashi!" "BABE STOP CALLING ME BY MY FULL NAME YOU'RE SCARING ME"
Runs to the store to buy you more Ice cream, little did he know you were the one who ate it, but you were too tired to go out so you used this method to make him go out and buy some instead lol
↳Tsukishima
"Tsukishima Kei!"
You really think He's gonna fall for that? huh
HUH!
He can clearly see how you're carefully watching him to see his reaction. He knows you're up to smthn immediately.
MF ignores you until you call him by his pet name😭
"Tsukishima Kei!" "..." "Tsukishima!" "..." "...Kei?" "..." "Kei Baby?" "What is it?"
"You're no fun" "And you're so dumb" "Hey!" "What? It rhymes! Who's not fun now?"
Just don't play pranks on this guy he will make you regret🤧
↳Suna
Much to your surprise, he has TikTok. Playing pranks on this guy is never successful cuz he's 10 steps ahead of you. Always.
Like when he finds you saying & doing smthn that sounds familiar to him he's like "Oh it's that prank I saw yesterday! She thinks she can fool me? That's cute. Let me mess with her a little bit"
"Suna Rintarou!" "F/n L/n!" "Suna Rintarou this is a serious matter!" "I'm listening F/n L/n!" "Suna why are you doing this?" "I don't know what you're talking about, L/n" "RIN-"
He will be the one who wins in the end. Always.
You sometimes find it tough to hold yourself back from punching him, but you're in love with his punky ass so you have to deal with it.
↳Atsumu
Cute whiney baby T^T
IDK why I find him so adorable lmao
You don't even have to call him by his full name to upset him. Saying his first name instead of pet names is enough to damage his heart lmao
"Atsumu?"
The guy looks like he's been shot in the heart LMFAO
"Why are ya callin me Atsumu?🥺" "Um... I mean, that's your name, right?" "No! 'm not Atsumu! 'm baby! or Sweety! or Hubby! Who do ya think yer callin Atsumu?"
He won't talk to you unless you make it up to him by extra kisses & smooches cause I'm not kidding, THE GUY IS HURT.
↳Osamu
Now he's a bit different from his twin. He will get irritated at first, but as the mf he is, he is gonna make you regret.
"Miya?"
He literally stops whatever he's doing, raises his head to stare at you with a blank expression. Maybe you can sense a sharp dagger stabbing your heart lmao.
"Did ya just call me Miya?" "... I..."
Ngl he looks scary af. Though his expression is blank I AM TELLING YOU.
Goes back to his business with the blank expression meanwhile ignoring the fuck out of you for the whole night.
Will not back down unless you're on you're knees begging him to pay attention to you lol
"'Samu!" "What's that sound I'm hearing? Never mind" "SAMU PLEASE I'M REALLY SORRY-"
↳Bokuto
His reaction is the same as 'Tsumu's but a bit tenser lmao.
"Bokuto?"
His head that was on your chest suddenly raises for you to meet his puppy eyes.
"Suger Cube? Why are you calling me by my name? Did I do something?🥺🥺🥺🥺"
INSTANT REGRET LMAO
He's innocence is enough for you to feel bad and suffocate him in your arms T^T
"No Mwah* Baby Mwah* I'm sorry it was Mwah mwah* just a prank!"
Just cuddle your baby owl a bit more he deserves it T^T
↳Oikawa
This mf deserves it.
Fuck him up.
Make him cry.
Choke him. Kill him. Slap him-
Ahem. Where were we?
So yeah basically he's a jerk and he deserves all the pranks in the world lmfao
"Oi Shittykawa! Didn't I tell you to clean your room? Why is it still a mess?"
MF IS STUNNED AF LMAO
"BABE WHY DO YOU HAVE TO CALL ME THAT- sighs* Even my own S/o bullies me, what a cruel world indeed"
BITCH WHAT'S WITH THE FORMAL LANGUAGE
"Just shut up and do it already" "Babe you're so mean😪" "You deserve it YOU HANDSOME BASTARD-"
↳Iwaizumi
This guy is so good. So husband material. So hot. So much in shape. ANYWAYS-
He's surprised. Very surprised.
"Iwaizumi Hajime!"
Looks up from his phone immediately to meet your frustrated expression.
Frustrated by how hard you're trying to hold back your laugh.
"What is it honey?" "Did you forget to wash the dishes?" "No they're all done" "Then did you forget to take out the trash?" "Took it five hours ago" "Then what about... what about..."
Lmao now he gets what's going on.
A smirk appears on his face as he throws is phone on the couch and the next thing you know you're pinned to the cushions with him on top of you.
"What was that about? Are you trying to tease me or something?"
BRUH he looks so hot like this that you're literally unable to talk.
"I- W-Well... what if I am?"
Let's just say that you never dared to play pranks on him again🚶🏻‍♀️
↳Kenma
NOOOOOOOOO
Why you doing this to my cat boy lmao T^T
"Kozume?"
Pauses his game and turnes to look at you with a HUGE sulk on his face.
HE IS ANNOYED.
"Why did you-" "Kozume? Really?"
Lmao his pouty face makes you chuckle a bit
"That's your name isn't it?" "What happened to baby, sweetheart, love of my life..." "KENMA BABY I'M SORRY-"
God knows why he looks so cute when he's all sulky lmao
↳Kuroo
Lmao I can never bring myself to mess with him.
WHY IS GOJO'S VOICE PLAYING IN MY HEAD HELP-
Anyway he will get you back, and a thousand times harder.
It's like you called him by his full name once, and ever since then he keeps calling you by your last name lmao.
You come home after a long day? "Well look who it is! The one and only L/n!" "I FUCKING HATE YOU TETSURO-"
This doesn't stop when you're in public. Or in front of your parents.
When your mom's on the other line? "L/n it's your mom she wants to talk to you!"
When you're out with friends? "L/n would you be kind and pass the salt please?"
People keep asking if you got into a fight or smthn LMFAO
So yeah this will go on for a while until he gets tired of it or he hurts your feelings then he will apologize for BEING SUCH A DICK crossing the line a bit too much.
Interactions are appreciated! :)
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