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joeyfranchise · 9 months ago

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no one’s ever had me (not like you)

joe burrow x reader

description: after a tough week 5 loss in overtime, joe comes home to you angry and confused. you try to make him feel better and comfort him, letting him know you’ll always be there.

warnings: nothing too bad, but still MDNI. (makes me uncomfy.) lots of angry joe, a bit of fluff, semi-spicy kiss. mostly angst.

word count: 1.8k

note. hi hi! this is my first joe fic/blurb so i hope you guys enjoy it. sorry in advance that lowercase is my aesthetic. i used to get yelled at for it in elementary school. i love you guys. who dey!! (title & plot are lyrics from so high school, i love u mother taylor.)

pacing. you were pacing back and forth in front of the television in joe’s living room, watching the seconds tick down to end regulation time in the game. it took everything in you not to turn it off.

you watched as the minutes, seconds, milliseconds in overtime ticked by, hoping and praying your boyfriend and his team could pull out a win.

you felt your heart lurch as mcpherson went for the field goal and the ball wasn’t in the correct place. wide left. you knew it was over. you continued watching, frozen in place, as baltimore did everything they needed to do to score. they made it to field goal range, kicked, and won the game. your heart was hammering against your chest. your breath was coming out in short puffs.

after valiant efforts from joe and the rest of the team, the bengals once again took a loss at the very end of the game, something that kept happening to them this year. you knew joe would come home upset.

watching the post game interview was going to be something you dreaded today. joe took his seat and began talking to the interviewers, answering their repetitive questions and talking about what needed to be done to fix the team, what could use work next week.

you rested your head in your hands and blew out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “oh, joey…” you whispered, seeing your boyfriend’s clearly upset glare on the screen. you couldn’t wait to see him when he got home, but you were unsure of what his mood would be.

after the interview was done, you turned the television off. ‘i could start some laundry’ you thought, at least that’d keep you busy until joe’s return home.

you made your way to his bedroom, which honestly felt like your room too, and gathered all the clothes that needed to be washed before taking them to the laundry room. you tossed the laundry into the machine and then added in your favorite scent beads and detergent before turning it on and closing the lid.

‘i can tackle dishes next’ you thought, heading for the large kitchen. of course you could’ve loaded them into the dishwasher, but something needed to keep you busy and washing dishes was always strangely cathartic to you.

you popped your earbuds in and started listening to your favorite playlist before tackling the chore. once dishes were complete, you vacuumed, watered a few plants, and made yourself a snack. finally the washer beeped, so you went to switch the clothes over.

as you were switching them, joe arrived home, pulling his sleek black car into the garage before locking it up and heading into the house. listening to your music and keeping yourself busy helped lift your spirits some, which you hoped would aide you when joe finally made it back.

when he didn’t greet you upon entering the house, you knew tonight would be a tough night.

you peeked your head out of the laundry room to check for a clear coast, and it was. tiptoe-ing your way down the hall, you made your way to the kitchen where joe still was, his back facing you.

you cleared your throat softly to get his attention, but he didn’t move. you could see he was scrolling through his phone, you worried he was reading negativity that was being spewed about himself and the team.

“joey?” you called, your voice sounded smaller than you intended.

“what?” he snapped, turning to face you. you flinched at the tone of his voice, taking half a step back. internally he berated himself for scaring you, but his post-game mood was too foul to turn off now.

“i know it’s silly to ask, but are you okay?” you question, looking up at him from across the room.

he ran his hand through his short blonde hair before blowing a snarky chuckle through his nose, scoffing at you.

“am i okay?” he snarked, locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. “what a great question! you sound like the post-game interviewers!”

the bite in his tone was starting to affect you, but you didn’t want to leave him alone just yet. as much as it hurt, you knew what he needed in this moment was to let this anger out any way possible.

“talk to me about it.” you pleaded, walking toward him and placing a hand on his forearm. he rolled his eyes as a response. “c’mon joey, i know you’re mad but you can—“ you don’t get to finish your sentence before joe groans out in response, a loud “UGH!” before lobbing his water bottle at the wall. you’re shocked it doesn’t bust a hole through.

“what is there to say, hmm? what do you want me to tell you that the world doesn’t already think or know? we aren’t looking like a championship team right now. everything we’re doing is never enough for success, and here i am, 27 years old and being called washed up.” he chides, looking down at you. his voice booms across the room, making you feel only inches tall.

your expression drops, and you turn your gaze toward the wall as tears well up in your eyes. joe takes a small step toward you, his hands flexing at his sides. you can tell he wants to reach out to you, touch you, apologize to you for scaring you.

“i’m sorry.” he says softly, hanging his head. you’ll let him make the first move. he steps toward you again, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, testing the waters. when he sees that you’re still receptive to his touch, despite his atrocious attitude, he moves his hand to the back of your neck before pulling you into him for a hug. you instinctively reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you.

both of you stay like that for a few moments, just holding each other and feeling each other breathe. joe’s face is buried in your neck and your hand is scratching slow soft circles into his hair. you hear him sniffle and you pull away slightly, trying to get a view of his face. he looks up at you with red eyes, tears falling down his cheeks.

“joey, baby,” you comfort him, “it’s going to be okay. you’re going to be okay.” your heart breaks seeing him so upset.

he says nothing, but leads you out of the kitchen and to the living room so you can sit down together. he plops onto the couch and pulls you into his lap, burying his face again.

“i just feel like i’m failing them. i’m doing everything within my power, and it doesn’t seem like enough.” he rasps, muffled into your neck. you say nothing, knowing he needs to get this out. you run your hands down his biceps as a gesture for him to keep going, that you understand.

“the whole world thinks i’m a fluke. they think my play-calling is shit, they think i had one kick-ass college season and that i made it to the nfl and choked. when does it end, you know? we took our team to the superbowl and what happened? we lost. it just feels like i’m stuck in this rut and i can’t get out.”

you sit for a moment, processing what he said. his words hurt you, just as much as you know the thoughts hurt him.

“i hear you joey. i really do. but i have some things i’d like to say, if that’s okay.”

he nods, expectant eyes raking over your face. “i’d love to hear it, baby. please.”

“first of all,” you start, playing up your sass in an attempt to make him laugh, “you aren’t washed up. people who think you are most likely sit on their couches and rot all day long while you’re out here training and conditioning your body for the physicality of your job. i think you’re in your prime.” you pause, squeezing his biceps for emphasis.

“next, you can’t take all the blame. sure, you’re the leader of the team, but it doesn’t all fall on you. it’s very noble of you to do that, but you don’t have to shoulder it. you played your heart out today. you all did. i’m so proud of you.” you move your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.

“lastly, fuck what the world thinks, joe. you know how good you are. i know how good you are. your parents know, your teammates know. other players in the league know. you’re incredible. you’ve got this, and after all is said and done i will be here. win or lose, i’m here, and i’ve got you.”

his eyes soften as you finish speaking. you don’t get a verbal reply. his hands reach up to cup your face, pulling you into him for a long kiss. his lips are soft against yours and it doesn’t take long before his hands are slipping up the back of your hoodie and rubbing along the exposed skin of your back.

your hands stay on his cheeks, loving the feeling of him being so close to you, his body pressed into yours. “i. love. you. so. much.” you tell him between pecks, feeling him smile into the kiss. one of his hands returns to your face and then tangles into your hair, tilting your head slightly as his tongue drags over your bottom lip.

he slowly slips his tongue into your mouth, gliding it against yours. after a moment, you pull away for air.

“thank you for that,” he smiles, stroking his hands down your arms, “for all of it. i needed that. i love you too. and i’m sorry for scaring you with my temper.”

“it’s okay, mine can be worse.” you jest, poking him in the ribs.

he pulls you down so you’re both laying on the couch before pulling his large cable knit throw blanket over you both. “let’s put it out of our minds, get takeout, and watch a movie.” you suggest, and he smiles in agreement. the two of you get cozy and pick your movie and dinner, remaining snuggled up on the couch as you watch and eat.

“you’re right, you know.” joe finally speaks again, as the movie nears its end.

“i usually am, but enlighten me.” you laugh, slipping your hand under his shirt and resting it on his abdomen.

“you’ve always had me. every turn, every bump in the road. every time i feel like i’ve made the biggest mistake, the biggest failure of my life. you’re there. you talk me through it and you put me in my place. no one’s ever had me like you have. i love you too, by the way.”

a soft smile spreads across your face as you reach up to stroke his hair again. “ditto baby, no one’s ever had me, not like you.”

he leans down and presses another soft, sweet peck to your lips. everything was going to be okay. you always had each other.

tags: @slimshiesty if you wanna be added, or if you have requests pls send me asks or dm’s! 💗

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow angst #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader fanfic #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction

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thevoidstaredback · 2 months ago

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Part 1

Danny woke up with the sun. Vlad would still be in bed for a few hours yet, so he had more than enough time to deck out the entire house and garden, with help from the ghosts, of course.

He planned to meet the others in the back gardens with some food to make sure nothing would go wrong.

Pandora, Dora, and Dani were the first three there, waiting for him already. And, as he set out the food none of them needed but would eat anyway, Johnny and Kitty showed up. Ember, Box Lunch, Youngblood, Poindexter, and Skulker came together. Walker, Desiree, Fright Knight, The Vultures, Blob Ghosts, and Spectra showed up separately, though in near quick succession. Frostbite, Undergroth, and Ghost Writer had wanted to come along, too, but would only be able to be there for the party itself.

All week, the guests had been arriving and staying in Madison, Wisconsin. They hadn't been able to house anyone because Vlad was going to be the very last to know, so they'd used his money to rent out a hotel for the week of the gala, including another day afterwards.

"Plasmius still doesn't know, right?" Ember asked as soon as everyone had gathered.

Dani started cackling. "Nope!"

"He's suspicious, though," Vulture One said.

"We think he probably noticed the money for the hotel." Vulture Three added.

"He hasn't done anything more than passing glares, though," Danny pointed out.

"He's not said anything?"

"Nope."

"Perfect!" Spectra smiled, "How're you going to break it to him tonight?"

"Well," he started, "I was thinking I play it off as if he was the one to plan it."

"Oh?" Pandora raised her eyebrow, "That won't be easy."

"Sure it will!" Poindexter shouted, "Plasmius is so old, that his memory's going!"

Youngblood was nodding enthusiastically. "We can even have his suit set out for him and everything!"

"What have you done with the acceptance letters?" Dora wondered.

"They're hidden in my closet," Dani said.

Skulker hummed. "And I've taken care of any emails or messages sent to his phone and computer. All went straight to the kid."

Danny snickered. "This is gonna be so much fun!

"Hell yeah!" Johnny cheered.

Fright Knight cleared his throat. "Any last minute arrangements that need taken care of?"

The group paused for a minute, all of them thinking. Finally, Danny said, "Well, other than finally decorating the place, we'll need to get food- We forgot caterers!"

"I can handle that," Desiree said, "Just this once, though," She snapped her fingers and a paper contract appeared in Walker's hand. "Since you're head of security, you should probably hold onto the contracts."

Walker nodded, tucking the papers into his coat. "We'll have some of the Blob Ghosts with us at the gates. Fright will watch the front and I'll take the back. Skulker will be in the security room, and the Vultures will take the rest of the Blobs and watch the skies."

"Why're we even goin' so far f'r dese peoples' 'afety?" Box Lunch, who had only been able to speak for just over a year and was doing fantastically, asked. "They're just rich. Do dey have and re-rede- good tings 'bout 'em?"

Dora chuckled, quieting the others with a glare. "Everyone has redeeming qualities, sweetheart."

"Kitty?" Dani dragged out the word as she asked.

"Almost everyone," Dora corrected swiftly, "Besides, it'll look bad if anyone gets hurt while we're hosting them."

"Speaking of," Pandora spoke up, "Is everyone here going to be attending tonight?"

Youngblood tilted his head to the side. "What'd'ya mean?"

Spectra flipped her hair, which was straight down her back today, over her shoulder. "Only so many of us have human disguises. It's not like we blend in well with the living."

"Well, can't everyone just stay invisible the whole night?" Vulture Two suggested.

"And miss out on all the fun?" Dani almost yelled, "No way!"

Danny hummed. "Our security team has to be here, and may even need to make an appearance. At least Walker and Frighty will have to be disguised."

"Manageable," Fright Knight nodded.

"Got it," Walker agreed.

"Great. Anyone wanting to be guests will have to be disguised as well," Dora pointed out.

"Writer, Frostbite, Undergrowth, and I all have that covered," Pandora said, "Dora, Spectra, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty will all be able to pass as living."

"What about us?" Poindexter glared. He didn't want to be left out of all the fun, and was pretty sure Box Lunch and Youngblood didn't, either.

Dani leaned on his shoulder. "You three will just get to come hang out with me and Wulf in the Keep."

Youngblood's eyes had stars in them as he whipped around and stared at her. "We get to play in the keep?!"

"That'll go well," Spectra laughed.

"I'll stay with them," Dora said.

"You sure?" Danny asked.

"Of course," she nodded, "While being here would be fun, I don't think Wulf is quite ready to handle four trickster spirits."

"And you being there will somehow be better? Neither of you are protectors."

No, but I am a caretaker spirit. And, as long as they don't go anywhere near the catacombs," she shot a serious look at the four children, "I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Alright," Danny accepted, "but Jazz, Tuck, and Sam will probably be ready to help if you need it, okay?"

"Much appreciated."

"What do we still need to do?" Kitty asked.

"Skulker, Walker, Fright Knight, the Vultures, and the Blobs are all on security, so you should all probably start setting that up," Pandora said. They agreed and disappeared. "Ember will handle music, right?"

She waved her hand will a nod, "You got it. Boring, old people classics coming right up."

"Johnny, are you okay with taking over valet?"

"I get to drive other people's cars, right?"

"As long as you don't crash them," Danny added.

"Sure," he smirked, "But I can still prank them, right?"

Danny sighed, but nodded.

"Yes!"

"Kitty-"

"I'll watch over the kitchen," she said.

Pandora nodded once. "Spectra? Desiree?"

"I'll go in as an actual guest," Spectra's smile spelled mischief.

Desiree matched her with a grin of her own, "I'll go with as your date."

Again, Pandora nodded at the two. "I'll come as a guest as well with Ghost Writer, Undergrowth, and Frostbite."

"Settled?" Danny asked. After agreements, he turned to Dani and the kids. "You four want to help me finally deck this place out?" Their matching grins said everything.

With a final dismissal, the group vanished to finish their final preparations.

Part 3

#Revenge Party #part 2 #danny phantom #dcu #dc x dp #i've never written any opf these characters before #let alone to this extent #so forgive me if they aren't anywhere near canon #this is also a huge cast #not me creating lore based off of real world spirits and deities #i tend to do that #not on purpose #it just keeps happening

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cinnaleaf · 4 months ago

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In Your DMs: Left on Read - Ch 1: Never Say Never

summary: you left jude on read once—but after one reckless night, he’s making damn sure you never ignore him again 💫 | MDNI 18+

warnings: angst/tension, push/pull dynamic, alcohol consumption, party setting, language, sexual references, public argument, easter eggs from previous fics wc: ~5.9k (approx. 21 minutes) 💋: it’s only chapter 1… pray for them. song inspo: VeLDÁ x Bad Bunny ft Omar Courtz & Dei V

It had been two weeks since you hooked up with Jude in a drunken rendezvous, and while the dick was surprisingly fantastic, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to get the ick. You gave Jude your number after you left his house that afternoon in post-orgasm delusion and he’d been bombarding your phone with texts, voice messages, unscheduled facetime calls, and random tiktoks that “reminded him of you” ever since. He clearly thought your hookup was something more, which made you regret your decision to give him any attention at all. Although pretty privilege had its perks, a world class footballer being obsessed with you was not a perk you wanted to engage in – especially when it was Jude Bellingham.

You sat in the apartment you shared with Bri and Tasha, watching your other friend, Mateo, scroll through his phone while shaking his head. “Miss girl…” he drawled with an amused grin. “They have all of your tea in 4k. All of it.” Mateo handed his phone to you and you nastily glared at the screen, annoyed that you suddenly became a part of whatever the fuck this was:

SpillTheBeansUK Looks like Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago 👀. The England star was spotted leaving a Madrid club with 21 year old Y/N, an NYU Tisch film & television student from Miami who’s currently studying abroad and very much a regular in both cities’ party scenes. Her dad is none other than THE ‘Dr. Cinch’, the mastermind behind SculptHaus Miami, the go to clinic for IG baddies and A-listers looking for that perfect CINCHED look 💉 Jude’s no stranger to being deep in a girl’s likes, but he’s been extra consistent with Y/N’s lately. What’s really going on here? Because word is, she’s not exactly the type to be impressed.. especially by ballers like him. 🤨

2Fast4VAR wait she’s from miami?? bro lost before he even started. she’s built different. 😂

CertifiedMenace69 if i was jude i’d be in her dms, comments, and her email too she’s bad af

BigBootyJudeyFC he’s about to start liking those inspirational quotes on IG like “if it’s meant to be, it will be.” 💀

MissMiamiDade305 jude better watch out... does anyone remember when she had that miami promoter crying on IG live last year?? she does NOT play with these men 💀💀

gossipgorlzzz not him liking her pics and finally getting the W! stay persistent kings!!

SpillTheBeansES Si Jude cree que puede cambiarla.. le deseo suerte 🤷‍♀️ (If Jude thinks he can change her.. I wish him luck)

JudePorFavor jude’s probably in her DMs like “pls respond angel 😩” LMAO

Baddiebydesign not dr. cinch’s daughter!! she’s set for life. face card AND her dad’s the plug? i bet her friends never have to pay for fillers 😭

AnonymousInsider13 i heard she’s cool with that real madrid baloncesto guy too…santiago something. ngl that man is fine af. if she’s choosing between him and jude i see why she’s taking her sweet time

RedBlooded1892 maybe her dad can fix jude’s shoulder that’s about to fall off the hinge 😭 cinchdollsnob her dad literally invented half the faces we double tap. a baddie with real face card genetics. life ain’t fair. ChampagnePapiButBroke jude and his big bum liking all her pics is sending me. boy was lurking HARD

ChickenNCoke cinched bellibabe is kind of an iconic alias icl

mamacitasintl lmaooo if jude’s trying to lock her down..good luck. her dad probably has a vetting process more intense than real madrid’s medicals

nosygirlieFC jude defo heard about trent bagging the perfume baddie and thought he could do the same LOL

You were annoyed by the post to an extreme amount. Whoever was the administrator of this god awful account decided to treat you like you were some Z list Love Island reject instead of a girl who got dicked down ONE time in a moment of weakness and dipped.

Bri leaned over to scan the screen and let out a cackle. “ ‘Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago!’ ” she mimicked in a dramatized voice.

“Ew.” You scrunched your nose in disgust.

Tasha was deep in the comments on her own phone, scrolling at lightning speed. “No but, ‘She’s not exactly the type to be impressed… especially by ballers like him’ is so shady,” she snorted, flicking her eyes to yours. “The streets know you too well.”

Mateo looked at you with a sly grin, clasping his hands together. “Sooo...how does it feel to be a Bellingham Baddie?”

You cut your eyes at him. “Don’t fucking start.”

“It’s too late.” Bri waved her phone in the air, grinning. “Your inauguration is already underway. These people are in the comments eating it up.”

“Let me see” Mateo snatched Bri’s phone from her and started reading out loud. “ ‘She’s bad as hell, I’d be in her likes too.’ ” He smirked, flipping his wrist. “Real recognizes real.”

Tasha leaned over, giggling. “Wait, this one says ‘Jude’s in his romantic era. He’s playing the long game.’ ”

“Oh hell no. Absolutely not.” You reached for the phone but Mateo dodged you with the speed of a messy gay man who lived for drama.

“Hold on, hold on.” He scrolled further, widening his eyes before he started howling. “Ohhh girl, not this one!” he wheezed, hardly able to get his words out. “ ‘Jude’s big bum came from Dr. Cinch? Noted.’ ”

Bri and Tasha both started laughing with tears streaming down their eyes. “Not Jude having BBL allegations because they found out who your dad is!”

You ran your hands across your face, shaking your head. “I hate this app.”

Mateo was screaming along with the other two, kicking his feet out but you really didn’t find it all that funny. “No, I LOVE this app!”

After their laughter subsided, Tasha shook her head, continuing to scroll through the comments. “The way they dug up your whole life just off one club sighting is actually insane.”

“I know. They need jobs.” You groaned, leaning back against the cushions.

Mateo tilted his head while eyeing you. “Well, since you’re the new bombshell in the Bellingham Baddie villa, you may as well tell me...how was it?”

Bri and Tasha perked up immediately, turning to face you while giggling, mainly because they already knew. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you picked up your own phone. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Mateo questioned, not fully believing you because you usually gave him the full rundown in detail, but this time you were holding back. “Just fine?! Don’t tell me he’s a minute man. It’s always the hot ones.”

Bri leaned in. “Mmm, I don’t know about that. Tasha and I called and she couldn’t even talk. That man blew her back out for sure.”

“In her words exactly.. it was ‘one hundred percent worth it’ ” Tasha added. “If the dick was bad she would’ve come home the next day and roasted his ass but she didn’t. She was quiet as a mouse.”

Mateo pointed at you accusingly, narrowing his eyes while analyzing you. “And you keep dodging the conversation which means it had to be amazing.”

You rolled your eyes, fake scrolling through your phone like you always did when you couldn’t look someone in the eye. “Well I don’t know about all of that now...he’s doing too much.”

Mateo snickered. “You gave him the best pussy of his life and dipped. Of course he’s doing too much.”

You groaned again, letting your head fall back against the couch. “Can y’all shut the fuck up?”

“Absolutely not.” Mateo fired back immediately, leaning forward to read you for filth. “I know you. If it was mid, you would’ve been dragging him for filth. You’d be in this living room doing a full dissertation on why that man is a waste of height.”

Tasha nodded, scrolling with purpose. “But instead you’re holding back.”

Bri suddenly gasped, pointing a finger at you. “Ooh, she likes him.”

That was where you drew the line. The suggestion that you, of all people, would be catching feelings for a footballer, let alone Jude Bellingham sent you straight into defense mode. It wasn’t even about him specifically, but merely the principle of the matter. You didn’t date athletes. Not seriously anyway. NEVER seriously. You learned a long time ago they were all the same: entitled, egotistical, and so used to women throwing themselves at their feet just because they could handle a ball and had a few viral highlight reels. They saw women as accessories, something to show off when it suited them and discard when it didn’t. You weren’t about to be anyone’s little off-season toy passed around in a group chat the second they got bored. That was never going to be you.

But ballers weren’t completely useless though, they had their perks. Stamina? Unmatched. Strength? Ideal. But once the adrenaline wore off and post-orgasm clarity set in, the appeal disappeared right along with it. You entertained a few before just for fun, just to see if they were worth the hype, but they all had one thing in common: they started thinking they were special. Like they had you hooked. Like they were pulling the strings.

It was funny, really. Because if anything? They were always the ones falling first. Every time.

Jude was proving to be no different. The way he sauntered up to you in the club as if he knew where the night was headed, versus the way his ego deflated the minute you left his messages on read for weeks was textbook athlete behavior. And now? He was chasing you.

Mateo tapped the edge of his phone against his palm, watching you with an expression that made it very clear he was about to ask something that would grate your nerves.

“So what’s really going on with you and Jude?” He tilted his head, brows raised in intrigue. “Like.. what is he to you?”

You didn’t even look up from your phone and scrolled as you answered, “A pronoun.”

Mateo’s mouth dropped open, delighted by your messy answer. “Be so fucking for real Y/N” he said, crossing one leg over the other. “If he’s just a pronoun to you then why did you give him your number?”

Tasha didn’t even give you a chance to answer before jumping in. “That’s actually a great fucking question. Because you knew giving him your number meant this...” she gestured to the entire situation, the group chat chaos, the SpillTheBeansUK mess, “so why did you do it?”

You sighed dramatically, tilting your head back against the couch from being exhausted by all of this nonsense. “He asked for it, so I gave it.”

Bri blinked at you. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Mateo was unconvinced. “And you just gave it to him? No hesitation? No thoughts?”

“I was in a state of post-nut delusion.” You shrugged, sipping from your water bottle to avoid any further questions.

Tasha sucked her teeth. “Mmm.”

Bri was already side-eyeing you. “Mmhmm.”

Mateo tapped his phone again, unimpressed. “Lying just like the mattress he put you through, I see.”

You ignored them. There was a very brief moment where you considered not giving him your number. You could’ve just taken your Uber and dipped, pretended like it never happened, and gone back to your normal, Bellingham-free existence. But Jude gave you a cocky, half lidded smirk that made you fold immediately when he asked. You figured your brain was still stuck somewhere between your legs for wanting to hear from him again, which was exactly why you were so annoyed with yourself. Not only was he blowing up your phone, but now you were on SpillTheBeansUK. You scrolled through the endless posts dissecting your one mistake, making you feel more irritated with every new comment. There were threads analyzing your every move, posts tracking Jude’s IG likes, and an entire debate about whether or not you were “Jude’s type.”

“How do these people have so much free time? Is the unemployment rate that high?” you muttered, aggressively tapping out of Instagram. “I was in the same club as him one time, and suddenly I’m the internet’s main character of the day? I fucking hate it here.”

Bri snickered, nudging Tasha. “Not her being mad when she willingly chose to leave with him.”

You shot the nastiest glare at both of them.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Bri challenged, raising her brow.

She wasn’t wrong. You did willingly leave with him. You hated the attention and the way people were dissecting your life, but you weren’t completely mad at the way Jude was acting. Mainly because he wasn’t just moving on like it never happened and letting you fade into the background. He was still chasing you. And even if you never wanted to admit it.. you liked that.

Your phone pinged in your hand to bring you out of your thoughts, making you glance down at your notifications.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 17:43 - Did I do something?? 17:51 - Because I’m struggling to believe I had you screaming my name two weeks ago but now you’re airing me. 18:02 - Hello? 18:27 - Ok I get it. I know you don’t really do this athlete thing. 18:28 - I’m not blocked though 👀 18:42 - Let me take you out?

You rolled your eyes before switching to a different text thread.

SANTI DOMINGUEZ 🏀 🇩🇴 20:42 - Y/Nitaaa que haces esta noche? (what are you doing tonight?) 20:42 - Fiesta en La Finca at mi pana’s house for the night. Big ass infinity pool, drinks, music, todo. Pull up. 20:43 - Bring your friends too. Dime que si. (Tell me yes.)

You smiled, already typing out a response.

20:45 - A party in La Finca? Bet. 20:46 - We’re coming. You better have good drinks!

Santi hearted the message instantly.

20:47 - Siempre, preciosa. Nos vemos. (Always, gorgeous. See you soon.)

You liked Santi. He was one of the few people in Madrid who weren’t constantly on some clout chasing nonsense, which meant you actually enjoyed being around him. And even though he could be a little flirty, it wasn’t serious.

You were just about to lock your phone when another text rolled in.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 20:48 - Your dad is a plastic surgeon??

You frowned, watching as a second message came in.

— [SpillTheBeansUK post]

Oh. He really was chronically online.

“Ew,” you muttered from the ick of it all before typing out your own response.

20:48 - why the fuck are you sending me STB links like you’re a gossip girl admin? touch grass.

There was no immediate response but you knew he probably read it the second the notification popped up on his phone. He was probably typing, stopping, then typing again, trying to figure out how to keep you engaged without pushing too far. It was funny really, the difference between the two of them. Santi would text once, maybe twice most of the time and you would reply immediately with no hesitation. Meanwhile, Jude would send text after text, throw in tiktoks, voice messages and a Facetime call here and there, which made you want to take your sweet time responding.

You could already feel the looks your friends were giving you, but Mateo was the first to speak.

“So you answer Santiago immediately but Jude has to beg for a response?” He smirked, already piecing together what would likely go down tonight at the party. Tasha hummed in agreement and glanced over your shoulder at your phone. “She doesn’t even respond to us that fast but Santi texts and suddenly her fingers work?”

You locked your phone and flipped it over on the table so they wouldn’t see any other message notifications from Jude or Santi. “It’s not that deep.”

“It is that deep,” the three of them spoke in unison.

Tasha pointed at your phone and then crossed her arms. “Explain.”

You stretched your arms over your head, already starting to prepare your exit strategy. “I don’t have to explain anything.”

“Oh, but you do,” Bri countered, shifting to face you. “Because you clearly like the attention from both of them.”

You let out a sharp exhale and grabbed your phone, making your way to your bedroom. “I have to get ready for the party and I suggest y’all do the same if you’re coming.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed and stood in front of your wardrobe, biting your lip while you scanned through your options. La Finca pool parties weren’t the same as your club nights. The vibe was more laid back but the guest list was usually stacked with the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, so naturally you had to one up them and show them how a Miami girl stepped out. Just as you were grabbing a cropped halter top from the hanger, your phone vibrated against your comforter and you snatched it up immediately.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 20:58 - Touch grass with me. What’s the move tonight?

You debated telling him about the party, but you decided against it and threw your phone back on the bed with a scoff to finish getting ready. Although he was giving you the ick, something about the way he chased you fed a very specific, very vain part of you and you would be lying if you didn’t admit you weren’t the least bit curious in how far Jude was willing to take it.

Somewhere outside of your room, you could hear Bri and Tasha moving around, digging through wardrobe drawers and arguing over what top to wear. Mateo’s voice floated down the hall, loudly reminding everyone that if they didn’t hurry up, he was leaving without all of you.

An hour later, the four of you piled into a car with the windows down as the city lights of Madrid blurred past. The further you drove into La Finca, the bigger the homes became. When you finally pulled up to the house, you could hear a mix of reggaeton, afrobeats and spanish trap music playing through the air. The garden surrounding the property was already full of people with drinks in hand as they laughed and swayed to the music.

You made your way to the pool area, smelling the mixed scent of tangy smoke from hookah and rum. You adjusted your top, feeling the backless cut brush your skin in the breezy, but warm night time air as you walked on the stone pathway. Your matching mini skirt hugged your hips just right and dipped low enough to show the string of your bikini bottoms underneath. Your small entourage followed behind you, already plotting the kind of chaos they could get into tonight.

Mateo adjusted the collar of his shirt, scoping out the scene. “I’m manifesting a man with a villa tonight. Just watch.”

“Manifest being the bartender while you’re at it” Tasha muttered, eyeing the outdoor bar where bottles of Ron Barcelo, Brugal, and Larios gin were already in rotation. Someone had cracked open a case of Estrella Galicia beers, and a group near the pool was passing around cups of Kalimotxo, the unofficial drink of every wild night in Spain.

“Vamonos mamis!” Santi yelled from somewhere near the pool.

His height alone made him impossible to miss. He was a towering 6’5”, had broad shoulders with a trim waist, perfectly white teeth, dimples, deep sun kissed skin, and a freshly trimmed fade that made you tilt your head slightly to take a better look. He had that natural Dominican aura that made it impossible to tell whether he was flirting or just being nice.

“Oh, you’re outside, outside tonight!” he teased, sliding his arm around your waist for a quick hug. He glanced behind you and smiled at Bri, Tasha and Mateo. “Good to see you all. Drinks are in the kitchen. Hookah’s by the pool.”

“And you’re where?” Bri asked, arching a brow while biting the nail of her finger flirtatiously.

“Everywhere.” Santi winked, then tilted his head back toward the pool. “Come find me if you need anything.” He disappeared back into the crowd before any of you had time to respond, leaving the scent of his cologne lingering between all of you.

“Oooh he’s wearing Rêveur.” Tasha nodded in approval, taking a second glance back to get another look at him. “That man has taste.”

“But why is he so fineee?” Bri muttered under her breath.

Mateo snickered. “Because God had time when he made Dominican men that’s why.”

You hated gassing men up too much, so you gave them a blank stare, eventually walking away to make your way toward the drinks as Bad Bunny’s “VeLDÁ” played through the sound system. They followed behind and Mateo took on his duty as bartender, rummaging through bottles of Havana Club and Brugal Añejo.

“Shots or mixed drinks?” Mateo asked, double fisting bottles in his hands.

“Mixed” you answered immediately.

“Shots” Bri and Tasha dueted.

“Majority rules, sorry Y/N” Mateo mused as he reached for the shot glasses.

On the other side of the yard, Jude leaned back in an outdoor lounge chair, resting his arms lazily while his drink sat half empty on the table in front of him. He wasn’t drunk, but the warmth of Madrid, the drinks, and the atmosphere had him leaning into the mood.

“That’s her?” Cama tilted his head toward the cluster of people near the pool, smiling with curiosity.

Jude didn’t answer at first and stared at the condensation on his glass before moving his eyes back to you. He clocked you as soon as you stepped on the stone pathway, he couldn’t have missed you even if he tried. The backless halter top with the matching mini skirt, coupled with the sheen of your Dior lip oil catching in the light every time you tilted your head back to laugh, had his head spinning. Even from a distance, he could see the faint tan lines peeking from under the straps of your bikini strings underneath your outfit.

“Damn..” Kylian whistled beside him, leaning forward to take a closer look at Bri and Tasha. “Who are the girls next to her though?”

Jude glanced sideways, trying to suppress a smirk. “Focus mate.”

“I am focused,” Kylian replied with a laugh, still scanning the scene.

Cama chuckled and nudged Jude’s arm. “She looks good, bro. You bringing her home tonight or what?”

Jude tilted his head, taking another slow sip of his drink. “We’ll see. She likes to play hard to get.”

“Does she know you’re here?” Kylian asked as if he cared, when he was actually plotting on Bri and Tasha.

“Nah.”

The truth sat heavy on his chest. He hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, but then again, Madrid was a small world when it came to hanging around certain circles. It was bound to happen eventually. But seeing you laughing with your friends did something to him that he wasn’t ready to unpack.

“You should go over there” Cama suggested, nudging Jude’s arm.

“Not yet.” Jude replied, following the curve of your bare shoulders as you tipped your head back to down a shot with your friends. The twist of your face from the burn of the alcohol, along with the parting of your lips made it too easy to remember the way those same lips felt against him just two weeks ago.

—

The shot you had just taken settled warmly in your stomach while the bass from the music grew heavier. The music was loud, the air filled with scents of alcohol, sweat, and smoke but none of it could shake the buzz in your head from spotting Jude in the party crowd.

Of all the parties in Madrid, he had to be at this one.

You clutched your glass tighter, trying to resist the urge to look back at the lounge chairs near the pool. Bri crossed her arms and smirked, darting her eyes between you and Jude. “So you’re just gonna ignore him all night?”

“Ignore who?” you replied flatly, knowing damn well who she was talking about.

“Oh girl. Pack it up.” Tasha chimed in from your other side while swaying to the beat of the music. “You know exactly who.”

“No. I don’t.” you muttered, wiping off the condensation wetness from your fingertips.

“Then why are you gripping the glass like that?” Bri teased, bumping your hip with hers.

You ignored her and instead scanned the crowd for any sign of Santi. You spotted him leaning against a pillar with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing at something one of his teammates said. His crisp white shirt clung to his torso, making you gawk just a little. When he caught your gaze, he lifted his beer and gave you a blinding smile.

Tasha clocked it immediately and raised her eyebrows. “Well.. looks like you have options tonight. Bellingham or Dominguez?”

You sighed heavily, ignoring her again and headed to the pool to dip your feet in. The infinity pool stretched out in front of you as you swung your legs back and forth in the water. You should’ve felt relaxed, or maybe even carefree and tipsy, but instead you were on edge.

On the other side of things, now that you were closer, Jude watched you from the rim of his glass as he took long, slow sips. Kylian and Cama were talking next to him but their words turned into background noise while he observed the way you leaned back with your hands pressed against the pool deck stone.

“She’s going to notice you staring eventually” Kylian leaned in, sensing Jude still had you on his mind.

Jude tilted his head back to finish his drink. The thought of you being so close yet so far away made the alcohol sit heavier in his stomach. You hadn’t really been giving him much of a thought since you hooked up and that bothered him. It made him want you even more. He internally debated with himself, wondering if he should just leave you alone or speak up now that he had an opening that you absolutely couldn’t leave on read. Just as he was about to stand, Cama clapped him on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Go talk to her bro. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could throw her drink in his face..” Kylian added helpfully.

Jude snorted. “Nah. I don’t think she’s like that.”

He really didn’t know you as well as he thought he did, you were definitely ‘like that’ if the need arose.

Jude stood up with enough adrenaline and liquid courage to walk the short path to the pool’s edge where you sat. You felt his towering presence immediately as he stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, glancing toward you swishing your feet in the water.

“You ignoring my texts now?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, surprised that he had the gall to start the conversation off that way. “You’re not serious.”

A gleam of moonlight caught on his lips when he shifted closer to you with a lazy smirk plastered over his face. “I get it. You’re a busy girl. But you could’ve at least told me you would be here tonight.”

“For what? Why would I tell you?” you countered, looking up at him in annoyance. “I don’t even know you like that.” The nerve of this boy to think he deserved to know any of your moves when he wasn’t your man, or anything remotely close to it.

“You know me well enough to let me fuck..”

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “Excuse me?”

Jude tilted his head, still with a dumb smirk on his face that made you want to slap it clean off his face. His hands were still tucked in his pockets casually, like he wasn’t standing there stirring the most out of you.

“I’m just saying..” he lazily shrugged, as if that would smooth over the conversation.

“Oh, ‘you’re just saying’ ” you mocked, standing up to meet his eye, though you still ended up having to look up because he was so tall. The edge of your skirt brushed against his thigh and you were close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his thick hairline from the warm night air. Up close, Jude was hard to ignore. He got under your skin in the right way to make you give him your full attention.

Just the way he liked it.

“And this is coming from the same man blowing up my phone like I owe him something.”

Jude chuckled under his breath, his eyes moving briefly to your outfit before locking back onto your eyes. “I wouldn’t have to blow your phone up if you just responded the first time, angel.”

Angel.

That word hit you straight in your core. It was impossible not to hear his voice from that night echoing in your head.

“That’s it, angel. Keep fucking me back.”

You took a deep inhale through your nose, clenching your fists on your sides as heat flared through your chest from frustration and other things you weren’t ready to name.

“Don’t call me that” you snapped, but the hitch in your breath told a different story. A story that said you liked it, and Jude noticed. His eyes lowered to your lips briefly, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward like he knew exactly where your mind went.

“Ohhh, so you do remember” he mused, clearly enjoying himself.

“Jude, I swear-” You shoved his shoulder but he barely moved in the slightest bit. He stood his ground, leaning into your ear to speak low enough so only you could hear. “Don’t start. Unless you’re trying to start something you know I can finish for you.”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that?”

The warmth from the alcohol running through your veins made your voice louder than you intended, making you become acutely aware of the heads starting to turn your way. In between your conversation with Jude, Tasha and Bri made their way over to sit with Kylian and Cama near the lounge chairs. Bri was sitting on Kylian’s lap with her arms draped over his neck like they knew each other way longer than what had to have been no longer than 15 minutes. All four of them were watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of amusement.

“Okay, fuck this” you muttered under your breath, feeling the embarrassment creep in. Eyes on you and whispers spreading throughout the crowd was the exact type of thing you wanted to avoid. Your mind flashed to the SpillTheBeans post and the comments dissecting your entire life, snapping you right back to the cruel reality of being a newly added ‘Bellingham Baddie’, as your friends called it.

“This is exactly why I don’t fucking date athletes” you jabbed a finger at Jude’s chest for emphasis.

“Who said anything about dating?”

You laughed in disbelief and threw your hands up. The tipsiness loosened your filter in all the wrong ways. “You know what? I’m so sick of-”

“Todo bien?” (Everything okay?)

The sound of Santi’s voice made you freeze mid sentence. You turned around just enough to see him approaching with an unbothered walk, beer still in hand like he wasn’t about to walk straight into chaos. His eyes moved between you and Jude, reading the situation.

“We’re good.” you answered, holding up your hand toward Santi as if that would somehow deescalate whatever was about to go down.

“Didn’t look like it,” Santi eyed Jude in a way that was more curious than confrontational, but Jude wasn’t having it, being the crashout that he was.

“You her bodyguard or something?” Jude shot, tilting his chin as he stepped fully into Santi’s space. Santi’s smile didn’t budge but his posture shifted subtly enough to raise the tension up a couple notches. “Nah. I’m just looking out for a friend” he replied coolly, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah? Well, she doesn’t need you to–”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” you yelled loud enough to cut through the music and all the other conversations happening around the pool. Heads turned with the rise of your voice and half of the party had their eyes locked on the three of you, but you were too far gone, and too far drunk to care.

“I am so tired of you men acting like I’m some prize you get to win!” You jabbed a finger between both of them in frustration. “I don’t fucking belong to either of you! And you..” You turned to Jude with fire in your eyes. “Stop acting like I owe you something just because I let you fuck me ONE time!”

Jude’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“And you..” You whipped back to Santi, who at least had the decency to look slightly guilty. “Don’t walk up here like you’re about to save me! I don’t fucking need saving!”

The silence was deafening after the read you gave them, broken only by the distant sound of water pushing against the pool edge and gossiping chatter from the crowd.

Finally, Jude ran a hand over his curls, exhaling hard through his nose. “You done?”

“Yes, I’m done! I’m never fucking you again so get it out of your thick skulled head!” you snapped and stormed off toward the house without looking back.

Back at the lounge chairs, Kylian and Cama exchanged looks while Bri and Tasha creased in laughter.

“I don’t know whether to be scared or impressed..” Kylian shook his head in amusement.

“Definitely impressed,” Cama replied with a grin.

You stormed off down the path leading toward the house, weaving through random groups of partiers who definitely caught at least half of the argument. The adrenaline and frustration swirling around in your head had you on ten.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” you spoke to yourself, enraged. “I fucking hate ballers. Worms for brains ass motherfuckers.”

The nerve and audacity of that man to approach you like he was owed something more than the one night you already gave him pissed you off. Your chest was filled with a fury of emotions you really didn’t want to unpack, especially not in the middle of a party where half of the crowd had probably pulled out their phones to message their group chats about what they just witnessed. As soon as you reached the back door of the house, Mateo appeared beside you out of nowhere, moving swiftly to match your quick pace.

“Girl.. what was all of that?” he asked, eyes wide with equal parts concern and curiosity.

“Nothing.” you muttered with clenched teeth, but Mateo wasn’t having it.

“Nothing? That was prime telenovela content and I need details immediately. Why did-”

“I’m never fucking Jude again,” you snapped, cutting him off before he had a chance to launch his full analysis. It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. Mateo knew Jude having you this bothered by his presence meant you’d be rethinking that exact statement in approximately three to five business days. He’d seen it all before, so instead of pushing any further, he took one sip of his drink and gave a knowing look between you, Santiago, and Jude.

“Mmm… never say never.”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #jude bellingham imagine #footballer imagines #jude bellingham fanfic

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gayboygaming · 3 months ago

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"SJW" "Woke" "DEI". They just wanna say the n-word so bad

#196

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littlepadika · 1 year ago

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Good Man

warnings: no outbreak daddy Joel, ddlg, fem little 🙇‍♀️ , discussion of age play, meanie shamers, bad words

notes: based on an angsty dream i had. i needed daddy comfort 😭 idk if anyone reads daddy joel anymore but i hope you likie ❤️ 💕

"And he wanted me to call him daddy!" Your friend, Steph, shrieked causing everyone at the table to laugh. Everyone except for you who had been enjoying the story up until this point. Now you chewed your lip.

"I hate that, honestly." Your other friend, Olivia, said. "It's gross. Like... it's just gross."

You feel your face heat up. You try to think of something to say some retort.

"It's these older men who get off on it." Steph agreed. "It's like why can't they date women their own age. They're creeps"

"I don't know guys it's kind of hot." Elise, sitting to your right, leans forward and wiggles her eyebrows. You feel a bit of relief.

"Ew!" Steph laughed.

"I mean- like sexually. Not like all the time. That's too weird for me." And the relief was gone

"What do you think?" Elise turns to you.

You feel your face grow hot. Your brain already felt fuzzy from worrying about what to say. None of them knew about Joel. They knew you were with someone older but the nature of your relationship was totally private.

"I think- I think it's fine. If that's what people like and they consent to it."

"So diplomatic." Olivia snickered. "We know you like them older."

You know it was said in fun but you felt your eyes sting with frustrated tears. You honestly didn't know where all this emotion was coming from. But it was almost like a rejection of you, even if they didn't know. If you ever thought you could confide in them now you know you can't.

"I mean... they're kinda taking advantage of you. Like you have to wonder...like it's one step away from a ped-" Steph crossed her arms.

"Steph!" Elise glared at her.

"Bathroom." You stood up and bolted as fast as you could. You hated that you cried from frustration. Like the moment you need to speak up your tears get in the way. You text Joel to come pick you up.

You know they are talking about you when you get back because they immediately stop talking and plaster on cheery smiles.

"Hey! Should we get another round." You can tell Steph feels bad for her words.

"That's okay i'm going to head home."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah we got carried away-obviously you aren't- you know-"

"It's fine." You looked away "I was feeling off anyways."

Joel pulls up a few minutes later. You just want to run into his arms and cry but you know your friends are still watching you leave.

"Just drive." You mumble as soon as the door is shut.

"Have fun?" Joel asks, squeezing your leg with his free hand.

And you instantly burst into tears before you can get your seatbelt on.

"Oh dear." He pulls into a parking space at the back of the lot. "What-what?" He cups your face in his big hands. "Petal talk to me..." His big brown eyes search your face, seeing the softness in your eyes and pouty bottom lip. "Oh baby..." He helps you scoot over into his lap and you cry into his neck. In his mind he's trying to think of anything that may be causing this but he just lets you cry.

"D-daddy..." You cry.

"I'm here, petal. I gotcha." He strokes your head. Inhaling his scent and feeling his big strong arms made you even more mad at what your friends said. Joel was not a bad man. He was your daddy there was no other way to sum up what he meant to you. Safety, protection, acceptance, strength... When you quieted down he peels your face off him and wipes your tears.

"Can you talk to daddy? Hmm? Can you find that big girl voice?"

You try to speak but it just comes out like a whimper.

"Aw I know... you can do it. Let's take a deep breath all the way... yeah... let that big girl voice come back to you..." you have to take your big girl breaths a couple of time before you finally speak.

"Dey-dey said" You sniffle "daddies are bad men."

"Your friends?" Joe felt his heart sink.

"Mhm dey said you were a- a- creep. And I was gross. But you aren't daddy!" You grip his shirt fiercly "You aren't!"

"I'm sorry you had to hear that baby." His heart just aches in his chest. "Some people are too small minded to imagine anythin' different than what they have. They don't understand it, petal."

"But why?"

"It's just how they live their life. Don't know nothin' else." He knows the feeling all too well. How many times has he had to endure awkward conversations about his relationship with you. He got on daddy sites secretly and always felt wrong doing it. But something changed once he started establishing a real relationship with you. Pure love. And so much more than he thought.

"I didn't tell them daddy but i wanted to. I wanted to tell dem you were a good man."

"It's okay baby." Joel smiled.

"No, daddy!" You insisted, cupping his face and looking very serious. "You are a good man."

"Th-Thank you, petal." Joel felt himself tear up a little at your sincerity. Because some days it didn't feel like it. You only got a taste of the hate in the world you had no idea. And Joel was doing his damndest to keep it from you. "You're a good girl. Such a good girl..."

It was so easy at home to just let go and be what each other needed. But the rest of the world wasn't ready for it.

"I don wanna be secret." You confess in a small voice, tears coming back anew but this time they felt different. "I don't wanna be..." you search for the word but couldn't come up with it.

"I know... we'll find a place where we can be ourselves. I swear to you, baby." Joel promises into your hair. He promised himself he would find more members of the community so you would find friendship and acceptance. So he would, too.

"I love you daddy."

"I love you too petal. Loud and proud." He kisses you gently.

~~~~~~~

ddlg masterlist

littlespace taglist:

@lafresamilk @mamacitapascal @prettypedros, @marstheplanet @takochansugoi @oceanablue @iwishtobeastorm @dincrypt, @bac-1, @spacenerdpascal, @cranberrypills @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @djarinsimp @mylittlesenaar @bbybunbun @phnyx @xwalltoast @dreadwolfxoxo @xwalltoast @mswarriorbabe80 @bearcina @lokigirlszendaya @pedroslilbitch @star-wars-fan-2005 @din-jarhead @hillgoth @m4ngoj3lly @crabbae @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties @girlofchaos @joelsflannel @xoxabs88xox @nicolethered @sergeant-major-ghost @pretty-girl-likes-tea @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @marchai

@Teddy2510

@phillygraves

#daddy!joel #joel miller fanfiction #little!reader #joel miller x reader

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getaapologist · 5 months ago

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The Tension and the Terror................Part III

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length in a later part)

Summary: The games officially begin. Macrinus furthers his plot, and Letha gets to witness the Emperors in their element. Geta can keep a secret.

Warnings: Reference to Letha's Voyeurism if you squint, 18+ only

Word Count: 2.1k (next part should make up the difference)

Part 3 of 15

[ Part II ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: I love writing Macrinus. I just think he's fun. Even though we hate him, a lot. Geta is fun too. I hope you enjoy a bit from his perspective here. One latin phrase here, "Dei bene vertant" is close to "may the gods make (circumstances good) for you," or so I understand. I wanted something like "Good luck!" Also, I HC that Geta has a shortened version of Caracalla's name that he uses sometimes. Anyways, thanks for reading!

“Not much of a bodyguard, abandoning your post,” Macrinus chuckled, his spirits high. He sat on the edge of the bed in her cell where she still laid, tossing a pear up into the air and catching it, again and again, his jewelry clinking together as if in protest. He had brought her back last night, not uttering a word more to her about her disappearance, merely asking for the dress back before disappearing into his chambers.

“What’s got you smiling this morning?” she asked, avoiding his attempt to weasel information out of her. “The winnings?” She knew better.

“It wasn’t about the money, my dear Letha. It is about power and control.”

“So, a debt of two thousand gold denarii is not enough.”

“Not for what I hope to accomplish.”

He wasn’t pushing her on her disappearance, so maybe he didn’t know who she had been with. A relief, to be sure. Still, it would only take one conversation with the indebted senator and he’d get his answers. She couldn’t begin to predict his reaction once he knew.

“Yesterday paved the way to the hill. I received word today that I’m invited to attend the games. As an honored guest of the Emperors, no less.”

Letha wondered if she played any role in this invitation. Surely not. Part of her felt bad for keeping her interactions with Geta from him, but a larger part of her saw his manipulations and scheming and knew he’d drown her in a river if it put him even one step closer to his goals. She didn’t enjoy being someone else’s pawn, even if it got her what she wanted. Or what she thought she wanted.

“How long will I be stuck in here, at the mercy of your men?”

“Well, it would be about… ten days or so. But where I go, so does my bodyguard,” he winked. “I still have use for you, Letha.” With that, he stood. “Go and see Hyacinthia. She’ll help you get scrubbed up. I’m heading up early.”

He got up and strode out. She got to her feet and approached Viggo who waited just outside, cuffs and chains ready to be applied. Macrinus’s voice echoed down the corridor. “No chains, Viggo.”

Viggo seemed reluctant and she couldn’t exactly blame him. He had never done anything to her himself, but he had seen the aftermath of others that couldn’t keep their eyes or their hands to themselves. So he viewed her as a caged animal, as he should. It was better that they feared her a little.

“Get moving, princess,” he spat, gesturing to the baths.

The roaring of the crowd drowned out everything else. The city, its people, clamored for blood. They called for the gladiators elevated to household names through their bloody work in the arena. They were eager to witness inarguable power. They preferred to keep danger out of reach, the reality of it confined to this oval as if it were a play, instead of calling it what it truly was. Brutalism, propped up by religion. If there truly were gods, she didn’t think they’d be sitting here right now.

The tone of the crowd changed. Letha heard their footsteps before she could turn her head to lay eyes on them. The twins. The difference in height and build was staggering now that they were dressed in lighter clothing, an attempt to weather the heat that settled over the sand below.

She revisited her mantra to quell the way her blood reacted to the sight of Geta.

He is a monster.

And yet nothing he had done to her seemed to match that sentiment. Perhaps today would be different. She desperately needed the discouragement. Anything to bring her back to how she thought of him just a couple of days ago. The way she reacted at the sight of him filled her with shame. What would her brother have to say about the way her intestines coiled up at every glance, like a bundle of snakes had been sewn into her gut?

Macrinus sat beside her, stoic, his eyes scanning the other occupants of the Emperor’s box. The twins were taking their seats upon ornate chairs, wide enough for two, conversing quietly with each other, Caracalla’s excitement obvious. Geta mirrored his gleeful smile and she forced herself to look away, lest Macrinus catch her staring.

She had a job to do.

A few other senators took up seats near the back of the private box, and Thraex plopped down in a seat across the aisle from where she and Macrinus sat. Thraex clearly had seen better days. Letha supposed the reminder this morning of his existing debt to Macrinus had sat in his gut like spoiled fish, even though he readily agreed to plunge ever deeper into despair by potentially doubling his losses. She figured he thought this would be his salvation. One good win would ease all his troubles.

“Dei bene vertant, senator,” Macrinus grinned. Thraex offered a muttered returned wish with a short smile before he was saved by Caracalla turning in his seat, peering over the back of his chair to inspect the occupants of their royal box.

“Thraex, I never got to thank you for your wonderful party,” he spoke, his voice easygoing and free of hidden nuance. “Have you brought your best today?”

Thraex put on a mask of love for his Emperor, his smile reaching his eyes this time. “Of course, your majesty, and I have even brought some gifts, they await you back at the palace.”

“Gifts?! Do you hear that brother?”

At Caracalla’s summoning, Geta turned in his seat, following his brother’s gaze to Thraex, bypassing Letha entirely. She shouldn’t be surprised. She was a fool if she expected any of that night’s events to have impacted him. She was a tiny blip, an aberration. One of many, insignificant. When he could quite literally have his pick of anyone, it surely wouldn’t be her name spilling from his lips.

He looked good today. Wearing gold, still dressed in contrast to his twin. He seemed tired, not as enthralled at the idea of gifts as his brother was. “How generous of you, Thraex,” he offered, turning back around to watch as the stage below was being set for a bloody battle.

“Excuse him, Thraex, he’s lost all his manners this morning. If he loses even a moment of his beauty rest, he’s just so difficult–”

“‘Calla, please,” Geta begged, his fingers pressed to his temples.

Macrinus turned, his eyebrows lifted in slight amusement out of view of the Emperors, a look saved for only her. “Volatile, indeed,” he commented.

Before Letha could ponder further what could’ve affected him so, the crowd roared as men were let into the oval, armed with various weapons, wearing odd bits of armor, appearing as a ragtag group. “Do not forget about your task, Letha,” Macrinus warned, eyes fixed on the men below.

“Here? Now?” she inquired, glancing around at the guards stationed at the box entrance, and on the sides, blocking the Emperors’ subjects from climbing over to exact any kind of revenge.

“No. But tonight, at dinner, I need you on your best behavior.” His stare was deadly serious. No joking around. This was important to him. She couldn’t afford to mess it up.

“I understand,” she nodded, reminded of the moment he decided to include her in his plans. His warning. She’d have done anything then to be protected from the vultures that followed her around ever since being collected from the floor of her house. She’d lashed out at anyone that even looked at her, diverting her sorrow into rage towards those that took her family from her.

The general should have killed her. But he didn’t. He had paved the path to this. Macrinus saw in her a tool, to be used and discarded when it broke or his purpose was achieved. She held no illusions of how Macrinus felt towards her. It was indifference, in its purest form. The act was his smiles, his gentle touches, his teasing, almost fatherly. Whether he thought she believed it didn’t matter either.

She should assume anyone could be a threat and treat them as such, the Praetorians included. The twins may somehow still have the loyalty of the commanding officer, but that didn’t mean all of the rank and file agreed. And for some, the promise of enough coin could steer their morals any which way.

Her concerns for Geta and his sour mood melted away, and she stopped looking over to try to catch a glimpse of his face as he watched the fighting below, Caracalla cheering loudly at every drop of spilled blood on the sand until Thraex’s assembled side lay dead.

Thraex stood and left the box before anyone could speak comfortingly to him about the losses he’d suffered. They wouldn’t know the breadth of them.

Macrinus just smiled to himself, reclining in his seat, his leg brushing against Letha’s.

“How much is it up to now, Macrinus?” she asked, trying to distract herself from Geta as he rose to his feet, about to leave the box.

“By my low born math, it must be about six?” he grinned, his arm stretching along the top of their bench seat, his fingers righting the dress where it sat atop her shoulder, lingering.

“You aren’t done with him yet.”

“No, not yet. I don’t think we’ve reached the groveling stage,” he laughed.

Letha laughed with him, completely missing the way Geta’s eyes lifted at the sound, realizing for the first time that she was present.

Geta watched the way Macrinus’s jeweled fingers pulled at the fabric covering Letha’s shoulder. The closeness of the two of them sparked a flicker of jealousy in him, an emotion he wasn’t used to having to manage. If he was ever jealous, truly jealous, he could simply lay claim to whatever it was for himself. It usually paled in comparison to what he’d built up in his mind, but it never mattered. The possession of it was enough.

“Snap out of it.” Caracalla giggled at Geta’s expense before nudging his brother aside so he could climb the stairs up to the exit, eager to get his hands on Thraex’s promised gifts.

The very source of his ire and frustration had been sitting just over his shoulder. He’d been too in his own head to even realize it. Before he could stop himself, coach himself on a better approach, Geta moved, words tumbling from his lips. “Macrinus, I do hope to see you at dinner this evening. We must toast to your barbarians.”

Letha’s eyes widened slightly as she was drawn out of her laughter and up to Geta’s practiced look of interest. Not in her, but in the dinner party. He was plenty interested in her. She looked a lot like she had that night, almost fearful of him. It warmed his blood.

“I am looking forward to it, Emperor, I greatly appreciate the hospitality,” Macrinus praised, gesturing at the confines of the royal box.

Geta smiled. “I thought you would.” He looked over at her, seeing some recognition there. He had hoped Macrinus’s other lady would still be indisposed with her fictional illness. His gamble had paid off. Perhaps she hadn’t told Macrinus of their encounter. What would she have said? ‘Macrinus, I watched Geta lie with a concubine.’ Though not fully, he reminded himself. He would’ve asked more of Lyra, but then he caught Letha’s stare. As if he’d been bewitched, he sent Lyra away early. Letha’s gaze was as strong as the fabled gorgon’s.

Still, best not to give up their little secret. Anything to keep Macrinus bringing her around. “And this is?”

“Oh, yes, of course. This is Letha, your majesty,” Macrinus introduced her. She bowed to him, all mirth gone from her face.

“Ah, Letha, well, please, what’s ours is yours. Do enjoy yourselves this evening, as our esteemed guests, both of you.” Geta knew he was looking too long at her, Macrinus wasn’t a stupid man. But some part of him didn’t care to keep up appearances. She had distracted him without even being in the room. He could enjoy this.

One last lingering glance her way and he moved on, climbing the steps with renewed vigor, a smile tugging at his lips. For the first time in a long time, Geta felt a shiver travel down his spine at the thrill of pursuit. What he would do if he got his hands on her, he didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. The possession of her would be enough.

[ Part IV ]

#emperor geta x ofc #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #gladiator II x reader #I just think he's neat #Thank you for reading.

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doddsmountain · 1 year ago

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I have a head canon that Harry and Dora almost became parents more than once, that Dora miscarried late term each time, and that Harry holds it against her.

So, during the final dream you talk to Dolores Dei/Dora. Harry is an amnesiac alcoholic and a very unreliable narrator, especially when it comes to Dora and their history together.

There's a line she says during the final dream.

As we know Harry is not reliable in providing us the actual history we can hesitantly glean from this that they were at least thinking of having children.

But I notice she says 'unborn daughters' specifically. I highly doubt that the world of Elysium is great at determining fetus sex early on, so it's reasonable to assume that:

if she was pregnant and knew they were girls then she lost them later in her pregnancies; or,

she terminated the pregnancies and Harry assumed they would've been daughters.

I assume the former because, quite frankly, I can.

Now, why do I assume Harry holds it against Dora?

She's left him more than once.

I look at it as she left him after she lost the first daughter because he blamed the loss of their baby on her. Why would she go back to him? I think it's safe to say they had a pretty toxic relationship and were strongly dependent on each other to an unhealthy extent.

I love Harry. I do. And this headcanon of mine paints him in a pretty bad light. But we have to remember Harry is not a perfect man. He has done bad things and can hold some really shitty opinions.

He can be 'feminist' and still ask if women are bourgeois. (In my opinion, Harry's feminism is pretty surface level and reeks of tokenism on his behalf). He is known to have been violent. And we know he likes kids. Even if he does get annoyed with Lilienne's twins, he's still good with kids.

Harry desperately wanted to be a dad, I think. I figure that's also why he became a teacher. And Revachol is still reeling from revolution and poverty and having no autonomy, so I think it's safe to say Harry likely holds some messed up views on women, their health, and how pregnancy actually works. So I would not put it past him to hold a miscarriage against Dora.

I'm not great at putting my thoughts into words so I hope this made sense.

#tw miscarriage #miscarriage #disco elysium #disco elysium theory #disco elysium headcanon #harry du bois #dora ingerlund #pre game #tw abortion #abortion

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vomitdodger · 2 months ago

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Circling back to the DC Blackhawk crash which has been all but forgotten.

As was obviously evident at the time…there was some sort of “intention” to this crash. The story, if you believe the NYT, is that the “intention” was to ignore multiple redirections. And then blame the female DEI pilot as such.

The questions still remain as to the “why”? Why would a junior pilot (in every metric possible) not listen to her senior instructor pilot (IP)? Multiple times.

Having served with aviation…this does not happen. The IP is “god” in the cockpit. Go against this person and you just grounded yourself. The IP represents the commander on all things instructional, standardization and safety…you loose the IP, you lost the Commanders support. It just does NOT happen.

At least it used to not happen.

So she was either literally worthless, and a danger, as a pilot…so worthless and dangerous that the commander (and the entire chain of command and unit) would have KNOWN this and taken steps to mitigate her substandard performance with more graded training flights…

It’s a cover story.

Or parts of both might be true.

Granted she might have felt overly entitled as a prior Biden aide and been difficult to manage and/or the commander felt scared (from a DEI perspective) to mitigate her actions. All of this would have come out in the investigation. No word yet if it even happened.

People need to understand that army aviation is THE safest (meaning risk mitigation measures) organization I have ever run across. Safe to the point of annoyance. I seriously doubt there is a safer organization in such an extremely high risk profession. Only complete collapse and radioactive decay could have allowed this to happen as an “accident”. People knew…if she was that bad. They knew. Whether they said anything (or were actively told to shut up about it) might be another thing.

There is just ZERO chance this was a complete one time whoopsie “she choose to not listen or follow instructions”.

Granted, the army as an institution would not drag her name and reputation thru the mud in the media, but it would be investigated. And talked about. Especially given the body count and tragedy of it all. And eventually the details will get out. They always do.

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smahell · 27 days ago

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what's up with mammon?: a 'short' essay about being fundamentally black-"coded" in an otome game.

The "recent" invention of the black "thug" and "yn" is rooted in the synonymity of black-ness with criminality. Deadly force has been used on black males, regarded to as "DEI's" in the work place and considered "persons of interest" if investigations are taking place, disproportionately more likely to be arrested for a crime they didn't commit.

The portrayal of Jim Crow, for example, rooted in bias and hatred reinforced black people as lazy, uneducated and thieving, seen as "biologically flawed" intrinsically because of the color of their skin.

So what's up with Mammon?

"man, what on earth does his character have to do with all this..? bringing race of all things to a dating sim?"

"'black' history? you jiggaboo!! he speaks japanese, of course he's japanese! he's just asian with a tan!!!"

"woke!"

hold it guys, wait!! don't lynch me next!!!

Within the OBM universe, Mammon doesn't fit into how human races work; yes, he is a demon, but he doesn't have a a particular "race" or "ethnicity" in association with us. Regardless, a character can be interpreted in a million different ways. It is especially easy then, for people who originate from marginalized communities to seek kinship and proper representation from characters who might not necessarily be black, but do mimic said communities - think Darwin from the Amazing World of Gumball, or Garnet from Steven Universe.

Let's consider the idea that he is black. No, not tanned, not a gyaru, not Japanese but a real black man. If that's a terrifying move to you, well...

A point that’s intrigued me at first was the fact that his character song contains largely rap verses, as well as most other songs that he has a part in. (It's obviously not due to Koba being bad at singing, he's just doing what's asked of him) Rap is embedded in African American culture, originating from the Bronx, and it was used to address issues faced by the marginalized communities that lived the “black” experience. I don't think this is a mistake or coincidence; Mammon singing about his true emotions towards MC mirrors the love for community and the respect black rappers have for those within their community. Maybe it's a stretch, but there's more.

By design, he has darker skin than the rest of his brothers. Though it isn't the fact that he has darker skin that makes him black, but the context surrounding him; most people who come from Asian or African decent have some degree melanin. (I REPEAT. ASIAN AND BLACK PEOPLE CAN HAVE DARK SKIN.)

the way he talks, WACK. (...) me, i'm tight as fuck!!

miscellaneous gameplay screenshots from google..

I don't speak any Japanese, but have you ever noticed the AAVE in the English translation? Of course, it's meant to reflect the fact that he doesn't speak the standardized Tokyo Japanese, but it mimics the dialects and phrases of real African American communities. My research gave me this comment on Reddit.

"..Mammon goes to the sketchiest places too, and he tends to hangout wherever money can be made. He’s always hustling.."

I like the use of the word "hustle" here, because the word "hustle" used to have negative connotations, especially in regards to blackness and laziness; "hustling" even now is what many black people use as an opportunity to get by to catch up to their white counterparts. The work of hustling too, whether that was selling drugs, gambling, thieving, reminds of a particular white-haired character.. not sure though. He's probably just embodying his sin. Totally.

His sin itself of greed did remind me of this forum post of how greed is used to "contain" black people:

As a black person; I found this humorously stereotypical (I don't even own a car!!) but extremely jarring — a message like this is full of genuine contempt.

The way black people have been regarded to in such a demeaning and subhuman manner, like they can barely think for themselves was utterly disturbing. But the stereotypical nature of greed and selfishness within black communities was indeed brought up as a way of why black progress is "inhibited" -- which is why Mammon's sin of greed is arguably harmful to black communities. Black people being seen as small-mind and impulsive when coming to their finances has long been dismissed by real financial statistics; black people comparatively don't have as much disposable income anyways.

Furthermore, does nobody find it strange that the only "black" character in the HoL is the thief that everyone consistently punches down? No? Just me?

This entire essay is a stretch, but I find his treatment so odd: used as a punching bag by his other brothers, called "dumb" and "stupid" - such reasons and assumptions used to justify the enslavement and imprisonment of black people. Perhaps they subconsciously treat him differently; whenever Leviathan sends him death threats, or Lucifer hangs him upside down, it it merely just for comedic purposes, or is there an agenda being pushed here? In every single family, is there truly always a punching bag? And if so, why Mammon?

Subtle cultural hegemony which comes across within these scenes; perhaps the other brothers are (metaphorically) asserting their "white-ness¹", maintaining this dominance and power imbalance though he is the second most powerful brother.

From another perspective, it reveals this issue of accommodation. Leviathan has online lessons in order to accommodate for his insecurity and bad social skills (which intrinsically stem from his envy), and the household is always bought more food to accommodate for Beel's voracious appetite.

Mammon is yet to be accommodated for; rather consistently punished and berated for even showing his sin, even though characters such as Leviathan and Asmodeus (especially within the first season of obey me) openly express these traits to the point of almost killing MC (Leviathan, Satan). Satan throughout the story, actively suppresses his sin in order to fit in with his brothers; perhaps he has seen the reprimands that his older brother has received and taken notes.

Perhaps the most interesting point I’ve seen when discussing this is the introduction of other characters with dark skin too: what about Diavolo, Simeon or Mephisto? Are they also people of colour, and if so, if the portray of POCs has been stereotypical, why do they not exhibit the same qualities as Mammon.

For one, let's separate Simeon and Diavolo from Mephisto as they were technically created years apart. I also find it interesting that the two also share a sense of ineptitude: Simeon is seen as an "airhead" and struggles with basic technology, the writers are unable to give Diavolo a coherent personality and waiver between "daddy dom" and childish prince who is much too trusting. (Or perhaps those are just contrivances which fit my argument, don't take this too seriously)

What I see them as is model minorities. Though their dark skin puts them at a disadvantage (due to the connotations of dark skin; colourism) the way they can overcome this is the absence of their accent and any showcase of sin in general; they have assimilated to their majority “white” cast.

The "suppression" of his sin may not be in relation to his black-ness, but black people can relate to it. My older sister has had to suppress her anger towards customers in order to not be seen as the "sassy black lady" at work. I've seen my brother unable to wear his favorite hoodie because he doesn't want to be profiled as a gangster whilst he goes to school. It is strange, that Mammon of all characters is unable to seemingly "assimilate" with to his power and reputation as the second brother, but such isolating and prominent experience be a source of projection for black people.

so i asked black obey me fans - do you relate to mammon? the results (may) shock you.

' i don't personally relate to him , - anon c

' just barely , - anon j

' I don’t relate to Mammon as a character and I doubt that even as I read into later lessons that I ever will , - anon v

None of them did.

..Which is fine! Black experiences are different. Anon J later cited his 'impulsive nature' and 'being laughed at and not with' as clearer points of connection.

It's also humorous that most of the people I talked to about this never stated he was black-coded but vehemently pushed towards the fact that he was black entirely, resembling real black people they might have seen before.

' He's 1000% black I don't care what anyone says Bro is black ' - Anon M

' I knew that was NAWT a pasty white boy [with] the way he carries himself (...) [the way Mammon dresses] personally does link to [having to dress] or carry yourself in a certain way as a black person so stereotypes and caricatures won't be placed on you , - Anon C

' i say this every time.. that is a man from the bay area istg. i peep a lot of his words and while town speak has inevitably reached other people—and though this mf is originally from the celestial realm (...) [his fashion sense] screams ‘oakland nigga’. , - Anon J

' I’d say [Mammon is] black without thinking [but], I’m gonna have to go with black coded , - Anon V

So Mammon resembles real black people, but does he resemble the caricatures of them too?

' ion think he fits in sone “black caricature” category which is a good thing, [but] they could’ve did more with mammon , - Anon J

' It is incredibly obvious that he was made using harmful stereotypes (...) One of those being the entire gimmick of his character. He steals stuff constantly and is always being shunned for it. (...) the fact that he’s the only darker skinned brother and does these things just irritates me , - Anon V

Contrasting opinions, but there's a subtle consensus that not enough it being done with his character; most if not all that I talked to felt as if Mammon's identity and cultural implications could be given more depth.

' give that nigga locs , - anon j

I felt bad about interviewing so many DEI hires.. so I interviewed a white person instead.

do you think mammon is black, black-coded, or something else entirely? why/why not?

' I think Mammon is black with his (not great) use of aave (the fact solmare has been kinda weird about his skin color too doesn't help) , - Anon L

what's your opinion on black characters being represented in asian media

' I think it's important to represent black people in Asia media (the way they're portrayed now is not great.. Solmare is also guilty for calling Mammon a gorilla once) , - Anon L

is there any character that you can relate to personally within obey me?

' probably Satan.. Mainly because of cats tbh , - Anon L

..thank you, anon L.

in modern day western media, there's not much need for "black-coded" characters; many creative directors have seen how crucial awareness on representation and diversity is when considering their audience. However, in many East Asian countries, such as Japan, such representation is yet to be shown to the west due to the harsh anti-immigration and foreigner stance many in Japan have taken. Mammon's black-coded-ness is a step somewhere, but not free from being seen as a caricature. However, Mammon could be seen as a more freeing countertype of the "cold and brutish" black man, showing vulnerability and love even when masked with stubbornness and subtle humor. It isn't copy paste; Mammon is popular for a reason(s).

Mammon is not just a character, he's the culmination of a writers thoughts of black people, and ideas of what would make a good love interest for the audience of Obey Me. To respect the game and its creativity is one thing, but to acknowledge the harmful stereotypes a character can carry is another thing entirely. Mammon is obviously not a black character for the sake of being black, and that is a good (and relieving) thing in the year of our lord 2025. To embrace a character for being black is one thing, but critiquing how said blackness is expressed is the foundations of universal understanding, and the deconstruction of prejudices.

¹ - whiteness as in colorism, not people from the mountains of caucasus /ref

thank you to all anons for your help and opinions, and thank you to vee and eryn for giving my ideas to format this into the semblance of coherency, and for shedding alternative third-party perspectives on the matter.

sources that could be useful to read/helped me write this:

Kendrick Lamar - GNX

Blackness in Animation

Creating Black-Coded Characters

"Piccolo is Black, Cry About It" - The Synonymity of Black-ness with Anime

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanart #obey me mammon #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #smahell talks #this was meant to start discussion or whateva... please don't try to witch hunt or attack anyone mentioned here #whole reason i kept everyone anonymous even if they asked to be credited is because i don't want them to get attacked for harmless opinion

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drop-dead-dropout · 4 months ago

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posting a kimharry oneshot here bc i'm too lazy to format it on ao3 rn but I'll reblog with the ao3 link later if I get around to it

so basically I was thinking about how kim is very my partner coded and I had this galaxy brain idea to write a fic where kim is asexual or uhhh. would grayace be the term? sorry idk but it's based on my partner I love him <3. also blink and you'll miss it trans harry but it's important to me that you know they're t4t in this lol. cw for suggestive (non-graphic discussions of sexuality and also it takes place Directly after them fucking), 1.3k words. (please be nice to me I've never posted fic on tumblr lol)

YOU — The air in your apartment is musty with the smell of sweat and sex. Your chest heaves with slightly strangled breaths, face burning with humiliation. You've always been a little (a lot) loose-lipped during orgasm—

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Especially an orgasm like that, holy shit, Kim—

YOU — But you've never, in living memory, said anything quite as ridiculously and unashamedly needy as the complete word-vomit that just exited your mouth a few seconds ago.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Failure] — Honestly, you were a little out of it and the exact phrasing is already slipping your mind, but it was something along the lines of... What was it again?

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — Oh my fucking Dei don't stop, Kim please I need you so bad, god I'm so desperate, shit, you drive me fucking crazy, pleasepleaseplease—

SAVOIR FAIRE — Yeah, no, I'm cutting you off right there. He's already about to spontaneously combust, you don't need to embarrass him even more.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — He asked. Besides, I'm not the one who dropped the ball there.

COMPOSURE — Sorry for that, Harry.

KIM KITSURAGI — Kim's hands rest on your chest, tracing circles just below your twin scars with his nimble fingers. "Is that... Really how it feels, to you?"

EMPATHY — It's a genuine question, and he's smiling with an infectious fondness. He's not upset, just curious. Your eagerness is fascinating to him. And cute.

HALF-LIGHT — What does he mean by that, though? Are we too needy? Is it not good for him? Does he hate us and want us to die forever—

VOLITION — No. Shut up. We already agreed you're not allowed to talk when Harry's alone with Kim, don't you remember?

HALF-LIGHT — But! Danger!

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Trivial: Success] — It's Kim. There is no danger here.

YOU — At a loss for anything else to say, you just nod, a bit dumbly. "I mean... Yeah. Is it, uh, not like that for you?"

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] — You try to play the question off as a nonchalant, but you're not even close to being a good enough liar to hide the mild undercurrent of fear in your voice. Especially not from him. (Khm. Sorry again.)

KIM KITSURAGI — "No, not really. It's not you," he quickly adds, seeing the obvious and barely-held back self-loathing in your expression. "It's just the way I am, I suppose. I'm too old to question it now."

DRAMA [Heroic: Success] — He's not lying to spare your feelings, sire. This is truly just a facet of himself that's always been there.

RHETORIC [Challenging: Failure] — By the way, you distinctly recall hearing him talk about having had sex before. Quite a bit, in fact.

YOU — "But wait, I thought—"

KIM KITSURAGI — Already having anticipated this line of questioning, Kim laughs a bit under his breath. "It wasn't a lie; I never said I don't. Actually, sometimes that made it better— without all the messy urgency, I guess I seemed 'cool', to borrow your phrasing. And it's not like I didn't enjoy it, either." He shrugs. "It was just... Something to do. I never really understood the intensity."

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] — A dozen miles and many years ago, two young men make out in a musty old apartment. "How are you always so— so unaffected," one says to the other with a breathy laugh. In a few months he will repeat these words with a much uglier tone, and they will be the last ones Kim ever hears from him.

EMPATHY [Heroic: Success] — For the record, he was not, in fact, "unaffected" by that particular heartbreak. Don't ever hurt him like that.

YOU — Before you can think better of it, you find yourself saying, "Is that bad?"

KIM KITSURAGI — A twitch in the corner of his mouth interrupts his relaxed grin for a moment. You almost want to mourn the loss. "I don't know, Harry, is it? Why do you think it would be?"

PAIN THRESHOLD — You've hurt him, idiot. We just told you not to do that.

YOU — "I-I mean— it's just—" Your teeth click audibly with how quickly you shut your own mouth. You really, really don't want to fuck this up.

HALF-LIGHT — Too late.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] — HEY. Back in the corner, you.

YOU — Guys, please help me. I don't know anything about… Well, anything, really, but especially not this. How do I fix it? What do I say to make him feel better?

INLAND EMPIRE — You could start by actually answering his question, instead of rushing to apologize. Why do you think it would be bad? What about the concept is uncomfortable to you?

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] — Kim feels safe with you, in the same way that you do with him. Be honest. He knows you didn't mean anything by it— the only way you could fuck this up is by not talking to him.

YOU — After a moment of pondering, you find the right words. Or maybe not the right words, but the ones that feel the most true: "I don't know. But I know I would be unhappy, if I was... Different to how I am now."

EMPATHY — Kim's eyes flash with a bit of surprise. But good surprise, like an old friend dropping by unexpectedly. The smile returns (yay!)— smaller, but softer, and almost giddy. It's not one you see on him often, a bit too unguarded and juvenile for his tastes. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

KIM KITSURAGI — "So would I," he says simply.

DRAMA [Challenging: Success] — He means it.

YOU — "Oh." You blink two or three times. "Oh. Well that's good, then, right? That you're happy?"

PERCEPTION (HEARING) — Something about the almost childish sincerity in your voice must be funny to him, because he keeps doing that thing where he chuckles under his breath, and coughs to try to cover it.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Formidable: Failure] — He's laughing at you.

AUTHORITY [Trivial: Failure] — Exactly. He's mocking you, Harry, he thinks you're an idiot. Make him respect you—

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — He's in love, you moron.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — As if on cue (or maybe your internal dialogue is just more easily observable from the outside than you thought), Kim leans forward and kisses you. For the first time, you notice how effective he is at responding to your reactions, like he's trying to find and wring out every last happy sigh and spark of oxytocin he could possibly give you.

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] — Because he likes this. He likes pressing all your buttons and seeing what they do, which ones work the best. (Almost all of them work, when it's him. Maybe a little too well.)

ENDURANCE — Hey, don't look at me like that! It's not my fault he doesn't play fair.

SAVOIR FAIRE — Exactly. How are we supposed to be cool in front of Kim? He's like, the coolest.

KIM KITSURAGI — "I love you," Kim whispers, his lips tickling against your collarbone.

SAVOIR FAIRE — See?! He even makes THAT sound cool, a thousand times cooler than when we say it, which is, like, every five seconds!!

EMPATHY — It's true that you're usually the one to say it first. For a time, he hardly said it at all— you learned not to take it personally. You certainly have your own baggage. But lately, it's been nice to watch as he gets a bit more comfortable.

EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] — The cuddling usually seems to help, in moments like this.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Godly: Success] — After all, what is a hug but a way to hide your face?

YOU — You wind your arms tighter around him. "I love you, too, Kim." And you swear he must be able to feel the way your lungs glow.

EMPATHY — He does. Of course he does.

INLAND EMPIRE — For a moment, you think you can feel his, too.

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] — SLEEP WELL, MY DARLINGS.

#the doctor who sneak at the end... listen that line changed my life ok #i very much enjoy the script-esque format of disco elysium. sorry if i lean on it too much lol #can you tell i was curious if i could use the word “sex” as little as possible in this #alex writes sometimes #<- fic tag for if i ever do this again ig #disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #kimharry #disco elysium fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #debated color coding the skills like i usually do in my google docs but decided it would probably be obnoxious lol #asexual #<- is it okay to use that tag? I'M not asexual but the fic is about asexuality #and based on my partner irl who is asexual #. i'm probably overthinking it

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