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#Hali's Girls
sailoryooons · 8 months
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It me ranting
My job making me come in when I haven't tested negative for COVID yet and then having the nerve to repeatedly ask me if I have 'back slid' or that I 'look ill' like ... maybe .. perhaps .. it is because I'm working .. with covid .. ?
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imma-hallyucination · 3 months
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I need songs about shitty, toxic, fucked up relationships so bad.
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starrysnowdrop · 1 year
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Yume and Hali are here to wish everyone a Happy Starlight!
🎄🎅🏻❄️
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destinylordoffreaks · 7 months
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So fun fact about rerooting rainbow high dolls. Their heads are a lot thicker/harder than a regular Barbie doll head so you have to keep repeatedly, heating them before sticking the needle in or your needle will break. I have broken several rerooting needles because of this And yesterday I was in the middle of working on one of my dolls when my last one broke and shimmer locks is on vacation so I have to wait until Friday before I can order more. I have some size 3, but size 3 is just a little too big for what I’m trying to do when I really need a size 5. 
and for some reason some of the doll heads are harder to keep soft than others.  like for instance, I had some trouble with Rexis head before I figured out what I was doing then I started working on a Delilah and she has been much easier to work with. I also did a little bit of rerooting on a Simone and she wasn’t too bad however I’m currently working on Hali and River and their heads seem to be much harder and it was actually Rivers head that broke my needle  so you know it’s been interesting.
Good news is I finished all of the rerooting on Delilah and Simone so now it’s just painting and styling  
Also, my older sister has informed me that my work table full of headless dolls, and my rerooting of dolls is in fact, vaguely creepy I don’t know why she feels that way, but she thinks it’s scary. Similarly one of my other sisters has decided that dolls with no eyes in them are also terrifying, I had taken the eyes out of one because I wanted to swap the eyelashes with a different one and every time she walked by my table she literally jumped this girls in her 20s she’s not a little kid 
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jazzyj6 · 2 years
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Wall of Sapphic
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feralsweatsrat · 3 months
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Halie Ray
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kithtaehyung · 4 months
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minted (m) (teaser) | myg
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title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: okay so LISTEN!!! this is a complete surprise to everyone including me, bc this was def not on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this morally grey yoongi is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and having the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur relevant url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! note 2: this fic is not for everyone. please read the warnings! there's gonna be some darker themes than the regular kithtaehyung drop, and it's the haegeum universe so it's not a light fic. if you're down for that, lfgggg. if you're not, i will not be upset if you skip this one! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint-haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, morally grey yoongi smut warnings: to be smacked here on drop day! drop date: as soon as i’m done but we are ZOOMIN’ word count: 6k so far and projecting 12-15k✌️
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"you know.. it's a shame you touched her. because now we have nothing to discuss."
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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist
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gimmethatagustd · 4 months
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gang shit | knj
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Your daughter's classmate has a really hot dad. Apparently, you're his arch-nemesis.
○ Pairing: Dilf!Namjoon x Single Parent!Reader
○ Rating: Sfw
○ Genre: Kidfic, strangers/romantic interest, an attempt at humor
○ 1 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Single Parent)
○ Word Count: 1204
○ Warnings: Shockingly none!! aside from my terrible sense of humor, jokes about Crime!!, and also Namjoon's dimples
○ Notes: Inspired by this tweet. I hope you enjoy the first drabble of my 100 Drabble Challenge I'm doing with @sailoryooons - Please check out Hali's drabbles throughout 2024, too! Happy New Year, besties! ✨
○ Post Date: January 1, 2024
○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots
○ What was Jai listening to? GOAT - Number_i
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“I don’t make the rules to this gang shit. I just play my role.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you cock your head to the side in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Namjoon adjusts his black baseball cap. His bicep bulges out of his short sleeve when he lifts his arm. 
You’re too old to be thirsting for a man like this. In all honesty, you’ve been acting childish all day – literally. It’s the last day of school before summer break, and your daughter’s preschool teacher invited parents to an end-of-the-year celebration. Having the privilege of working a hybrid schedule means it’s relatively easy for you to swing by the school with primary-colored cupcakes in hand. They’re the disgusting ones kids love that’ll stain their fingers and mouths bright blue. Oh, to be a four-year-old. So easy to please. 
Unlike little Yuna’s father, who has a stick shoved up his ass, and for what?
“What are you even talking about?” you ask with your arms crossed against your chest. 
You’d said literally five words to the guy, intending to start a pleasant conversation while the kids ran around the playground and the other parents mingled at the picnic tables outside. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N, Brooklyn’s parent.”
Apparently, that was offensive.
Namjoon’s sharp eyes drag up and down your body, and you try not to let his heavy gaze affect you – and fail when you feel your stomach dip. 
“Brooklyn said Yuna dresses weird,” Namjoon finally says with a pout that shouldn’t look so cute on a grown-ass man. 
“Did she?” 
“Are you calling Yuna a liar?”
“No!” This man is so volatile. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. We’ve been practicing using kind words, but, well, you know how kids are…” 
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced. 
You feel antsy under his gaze, unsure what to say or do. Are you supposed to apologize? Maybe that’s the mature thing to do. You’re still new to this whole “I’m suddenly responsible for an entire human being even though I barely even know how to take care of myself” thing. It’s a little bit unbelievable, actually! 
“I’m sorry for Brooklyn’s judgmental behavior. What kind of weird-, what kind of clothes-” you stumble through what you already know is a shit apology, “Which one is Yuna?” 
“That’s her.” Namjoon nods in Yuna’s direction.
You look across the playground to the swing set, where a little girl is lying on the swing on her stomach and spinning around with her arms and legs hanging limp. She’s wearing her hair in asymmetrical pigtails, one higher on her head than the other. Her sneakers are mismatched, as are her colorful knee-high socks. Her pants are polka-dotted, her shirt striped, and she’s got a bright purple cape tied around her neck. 
“She’s adorable,” you say softly. 
“She’s weird as shit.” 
Your mouth hangs open when Namjoon shrugs. 
“What? She’s my kid; I’m allowed to say that.” 
“Fair enough,” you concede with a smile, “So, we got beef now?”
“Yup.” 
Namjoon crosses his arms against his chest to match your stance. You tell yourself it’s very inappropriate to be eyeing your new enemy’s boobs when you’re in the middle of a showdown. 
“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t think I’m down for going to war for Brooklyn. Usually, I just like to blame her bad behavior on her dad,” you say with a barking laugh. You cover your mouth with your hand when you snort. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” 
“You’re good,” Namjoon finally cracks a smile, and, wow, it’s breathtaking. His eyes crinkle at the corners, his teeth are big and bright, and he has dimples… “Yuna’s mother doesn’t let her dress how she likes, so when I have her, I let her do what she wants. Self-expression is important, y’know?” 
You nod because he’s right. Kids should be kids. 
“Plus, I like being the fun parent.” 
“Right! Who wants the parent with all the stupid rules?” You perk up, taking a step closer because now you’re partners in crime rather than enemies. Maybe. You’ll work on it. He’s too cute not to get up to some parental crime with—gang members, not rivals. 
“Not cool parents like us,” Namjoon lightly elbows you. 
“Yeah, they can’t ride with our gang.” 
Namjoon makes a face the moment the words come out of your mouth. He bites both lips, rolling them in and hollowing his cheeks, eyebrows raised. 
“What? What!” you gasp, knowing when you’re being made fun of, even if it’s in silence. 
“Don’t ever say anything like that ever again.” 
With a huff, you give him a tiny punch to the arm and tell yourself that it isn’t because you want to feel how tight his muscles are. 
“You’re the one who–” 
“HEY! NO HITTING!” 
Groaning, you throw your head back as a tiny blur of pink collides with your body. Brooklyn tugs on the hem of your shirt, repeatedly chanting, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” until you crouch to meet her at her level. Taking her little hands in yours, you hold them to your lips to give her knuckles a quick peck. 
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that to Mr. Kim,” you admit, “I should apologize, shouldn’t I?”
Brooklyn nods, and the bulbous beaded hair ties at the end of her pigtail braids swing like a deadly game of tetherball. 
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kim,” you say as you look up at Namjoon. He taps his finger against his chin in mock thought, and you can’t help but think that you’ll actually punch him if he fucks up this teaching moment by pretending not to accept your apology. 
“I forgive you,” he says with another grin that makes you feel like a silly teenager. 
“Y’know, Brooklyn, Mr. Kim told me something about you and Yuna…” Brooklyn immediately ducks her chin to her chest. No one has ever looked guiltier. “It’s not very nice to talk about how people look, love. I think you should apologize to Yuna, don’t you agree?”
It takes very little convincing for Brooklyn to run off toward the swings. She flops on her stomach in the swing beside Yuna, and then, after a bit of talking, both girls spin around. 
“If Brooklyn throws up from doing that, it’s your fault,” you mutter to Namjoon. 
“Real aggressive coming from someone who just physically attacked me.” 
“Okay, Mr. Gang Shit,” you quip back, catching Namjoon’s widening grin out of the corner of your eye. 
“Listen,” Namjoon touches your elbow, his fingers lingering just long enough for you to give him your attention. Heat spreads along your forearm and makes your fingers tingle. “I don’t really accept either of your apologies. You might need to try a little harder to get me to forgive you.”
“Oh.” You feel your stomach twist. 
“Might want to start with getting dinner with me, and then we can see where it goes?” 
Oh.
“I mean, if you think it wouldn’t hurt my street cred being seen with the likes of you, then, yeah.” 
Namjoon grabs his baseball cap bill and pulls it down until his hat covers his face. “Don’t make me rescind this offer because I’ll do it.” 
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”
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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 
All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.
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luxaofhesperides · 1 month
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I'm not sure if you're still taking Ghostlights requests, but if you are: Dick asking Duke to take Haley to the dog park for him in order to set up a meet-cute for him with the guy with the weird green rottweiler
And if you aren't, just know that you're doing great and I appreciate the hell out of you
“Oh, shoot!” 
Hearing Dick rush around as a frantic mess is not uncommon while he’s in Gotham. There’s too many people wanting to spend time with him that he ends up pulled in a bunch of different directions. Dick’s always in a rush, always busy, always making time for people because he has more love than Duke has ever seen in a person.
Dick’s also got pretty good time management skills after years of doing this. He’s only cutting out a few minutes early for their designated three hour catch-up session. 
That doesn’t mean he’s going to do it gracefully, though.
“Almost lost track of the time!” he says, moving to the couch to pick up his jacket. “Hey, Duke, can do you me a favor while I’m out?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Can you take Haley to the dog park? I usually take her twice a week around this time, but I totally forgot to include that in my calendar this week so I’ve got plans with the Titans just outside the city, and no time to take her out.”
“Yeah, man, of course I can take her to the dog park. The one attached to Robinson Park, right?”
Dick nods, shoving his shoes onto his feet. “That’s the one! Her treats are also in the bag hanging next to her leash. Oh, and she has a friend at the dog park! Don’t be scared when you see him, he’s just green.”
“Oh…kay?”
“Great, thanks! Bye, Duke, I’ll see you later!”
And with that, Dick is gone, closing the door to his safehouse as he dashes into the hall. 
Duke is left alone in Dick’s Gotham safehouse, blinking dazedly at the empty space where he once was. He’s certainly a whirlwind of activity when he realizes he’s going to be late. He’s also skilled in just saying things and leaving before any questions can be answered.
Haly jumps up onto the couch next to Duke. They share a look, then Duke shakes his head. “You have to deal with that every day, huh?”
Haly, the good girl that she is, doesn’t say anything bad against her owner and just puts a paw on Duke’s thigh, her tail wagging. 
“I hear ya, girl. Let’s go to the dog park to meet your green friend,  I guess.”
He has no idea what that means, honestly. Is Dick just talking about a dog that got its fur dyed green? Or is Haly’s friend like… a mutant dog? 
Well, he’s not going to find out by stalling. 
Duke pets Haly, then stands up and walks to the door. Her head perks up as soon as she hears the jangle of her leash being moved, and then she’s running to the door, looking up at him expectantly. Smiling, Duke slips the harness onto her, then attached it to the leash. He gives her another quick pet before shoving on his shoes and grabbing her bag of treats and waste disposal bags. 
He double checks that he has his phone, then takes hold of Dick’s spare safehouse key and steps out into the hallway with Haly. She waits patiently as he locks the door, checks that the lock holds, then runs down the hallway, ripping the leash right out of his hands.
“Haly! Wait! Stop, girl!”
She happily ignores him and goes straight for the elevator, leaving him to run after her and quickly scoop up the leash as soon as he’s close enough.
“Of course you’re a little escape artists,” he says to her, “Just like your owner.”
Haly woofs softly, then stands up and scratches at the doors of the elevator. Shaking his head, amused, Duke pushes the button to call the elevator and wonders if Dick has to deal with this every time they go to the dog park. 
On one hand, it wouldn’t surprise him since Dick is absolutely the kind of guy to give in to his dog’s every whims and spoil her rotten. On the other hand, Duke fully believes that Haly is smart enough and cute enough to misbehave only when Dick isn’t around so he never believes people when they try to tell him about all the mischief she’s caused. 
Dogs and their owners really do reflect one another. The internet was right about that.
Duke makes sure to keep a tight grip on Haly’s leash once they leave the apartment building. The streets are busy, as they tend to be on weekends, and the sight of Haly straining against her leash, ready to run, brings a smile to more than one face. 
He plots the route to the dog park in his mind, then starts up a light jog, tugging lightly on the leash to prompt Haly to follow him. 
It’s nice to run just for the sake of it. Haly makes a good running partner as well. 
How long has it been since Duke had time to relax and not be prepared for the worst? All the running he usually does these days is to catch up with criminals or run for his life. Being out during the day, moving through the city, without any lives in danger? Genuinely nice and relaxing. 
Maybe he can offer to take Haly to the dog park from now on. Join Dick whenever he goes. Create a set few hours where he doesn’t do anything but enjoy being outside in one of the few places where the smog of pollution and chemical toxins isn’t so thick in the air. 
He’ll just have to make sure Dick doesn’t agree to something else during those days. It’s still strange to think that Dick could forget to do something involving Haly when he’s such a good dog owner and a pro at juggling various responsibilities and a busy schedule. 
Well, they all have off days. This must be one of Dick’s.
The sidewalks get wider once they reach the street that leads to the park. Families fill up the space, walking with strollers in front of them or lined up at a food cart. The vivid green of spring fills the grassy fields that lead to the large patches of trees, marking the edge of Poison Ivy’s territory. Clovers decorate the ground, bees moving from flower to flower. 
There are other dogs on walks as well, making circuits around the park or running after toys. Duke spots a cat in a walking harness as well and wonders if he can convince Damian to get one for Alfred the cat. 
The dog park is on the other end of the park, as far away from Ivy’s territory as possible. The fenced off areas are separated into big dogs and small dogs, with a helpful guide as to which dogs go where posted at the entrance. 
Duke slows to a walk, breathing deeply to help settle his heart rate back down to something normal. Haly walks by his side, tail wagging, as she watches the other dogs run back and forth behind the fence. 
She’s still small, just growing out of puppy size, so Duke leads her into the small dog area, carefully making sure the gate doesn’t open enough for any quick dogs to make a break for it. He walks over to a bench and sits down before undoing the harness on her, setting her loose. 
Haly licks his hand once, then darts away, barking lightly as she joins the other dogs tumbling around each other. 
Amused, Duke leans back at watches as the other dogs sniff her, then do their funny little bowing stomps, moving back and forth before running off so she can give chase. 
He figures staying for an hour will be good enough. That should get the most of her energy out, and then they can make the long trek back to Dick’s safehouse so he can pick her up before he heads back to Bludhaven. Pulling out his phone, Duke settles in to wait, keeping half his attention on Haly just in case any of the other dogs decide to get a little too rough.
The first twenty minutes pass peacefully. Haly runs around and the owners of the other dogs give her pets when she runs up to them. One even went over to Duke to offer him a pack of fruit gummies. 
Then a loud bark fills the air and Duke jerks upright, watching with wide eyes as a colossally large dog, green and glowing and slightly transparent, comes barrelling down the street, headed right towards them. 
He doesn’t have time to yell Haly’s name before the dog is in the fence. None of the other dog owners look alarmed, though, so he watches carefully, prepared to jump up and save Haly at a moment’s notice.
“Cujo!” someone yells from down the street. A guy with dark hair comes running up and smoothly jumps over the fence. “Cujo, how many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that?”
The green dog, apparently Cujo, barks happily.
“And you’re too big for this park right now, buddy. Shrink, boy. It’s time to be small.”
And then Cujo… obeys? The dog shrinks, and instead of being the size of a bus, it’s now small enough to be carried in someone’s arms. 
Green dog is not enough warning for all of that. Dick owes him so much for this.
Actually, he’s kind of shocked that Dick never mentioned this to anyone. Surely a giant green dog would get people’s attention. Why is this the first time he’s heard about it?
“You new around here?” someone asks, and Duke turns to see the person who gave him the fruit gummies.
“Kinda? It’s my first time coming to the dog park. I’m looking after Haly, that one right over there.” He points out Haly, who is running in circles around Cujo.
“Ah, I see. Dick mentioned someone new would be coming today.”
Duke narrows his eyes. He’s starting to get the feeling that he’s been set up for something, but he’s not sure what. 
“I’ll give you the spiel we tell all newcomers, in that case,” they continue. “Cujo is a ghost dog. Poor thing died during some animal testing, far as we know. Danny looks after him, since Cujo got attached to the kid years ago before he moved to Gotham. He’s a kind one, but very nervous, and we’ve all got an agreement to keep quiet about him and Cujo round this parts. You better be holding your tongue, as well, ya hear me?”
“Sure thing,” Duke nods. “My lips are sealed.”
He’ll just ask Dick about the ghost dog situation and do his own investigation if needed. But Cujo is just a dog, and his owner is just a guy. Nothing threatening, nothing requiring a Bat’s attention.
“Good,” they nod. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” They’re gone before Duke can reply, adjusting the hat on their head as they head back to their group in the back left corner of the dog park. 
Satisfied that things are under control, Duke relaxes back into the bench, watching Haly and Cujo tumble around with the other dogs, barking happily. Haly’s still growing into her paws, so she trips and falls often, but gets up without a moments pause, ready to keep playing.
From the corner of his eyes, Duke catches sight of someone walking towards him. 
He looks over and finds Cujo’s owner—Danny, wasn’t it?—approaching. Their eyes meet, and Danny offers him a sheepish smile and a wave. His eyes are a dark blue that seem to glow with some otherworldly light, and Duke can swear he sees something shifting around him, as if the air has turned visible and twists around his body like wisps of smoke. 
“Mind if I sit with you?” Danny asks, and Duke moves to the side a bit.
“Go ahead,” he says.
“You’re Duke, right? Dick told me about you last week.”
It’s looking more and more like Dick is up to something, and Duke will need to get his revenge. “Did he? All good things, I hope.”
“Aha, yeah, all good things. Um, actually I think I should apologize? I maybe said you sounded like my type so Dick promised that he’d get you here somehow. Sorry if this is messing up your plans for the day.”
Oh. Oh! 
Well. That’s interesting. 
Duke quietly shelves his plans for revenge against Dick and takes a proper look at Danny. He’s shy, but with a bright smile, glowing eyes and strange smoke curling around him still, and messy black hair windswept from chasing after Cujo. There’s a flush in his cheeks and his long fingers fiddle with the string of his dark red hoodie. 
“Don’t worry, I didn’t have any plans today. This is way better than just sleeping all day.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Danny laughs, “There’s nothing I like more than being able to sleep all day. That would fix me for sure.”
There’s a loud bark, and Danny’s eyes snap back to Cujo, who is growing bigger. “Cujo!” Danny yells, voice sharp. “Shrink down, or we go home.”
Cujo grumbles, whines, then goes back to being little. The green dog only has a moment to look sad before Haly is tackling him, sending them back into another chase around the park. 
“Sorry about that,” Danny says, slouching against the bench. 
“It’s all good,” Duke replies. “So. I’m your type, huh?”
Danny’s cheeks turn a deep, charming red. He looks away, then nods and ducks his head down. 
“And that hasn’t changed after meeting me?”
Danny shakes his head, then peeks over at Duke, gaze slowly moving up his body until he meets Duke’s eyes. “Definitely hasn’t changed,” he says.
Now it’s Duke’s turn to feel his cheeks burn, flustered and pleasantly surprised by Danny’s boldness. It doesn’t help that Danny is cute, someone he can see himself falling for. 
“Good,” he says, then knocks his knee against Danny’s. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more. On one condition.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“Tell me what Dick told you about me. I wanna make sure he wasn’t sharing an embarrassing stories about me. If I’m gonna make a fool of myself, then I’ll do it myself with no outside help.”
Danny’s laugh is bright and warm and sends butterflies dancing in Duke’s stomach. “Fair enough!” he says. “And you know what? I’ll trade you for embarrassing stories. Trust me, I have so many. Nothing you’ve done can be worse that the dumb shit I do on a regular basis.”
“Woah, woah, woah, confident, aren’t we? Don’t say that until you’ve heard about some of the stupid situation I choose to throw myself into.”
“Please, I’m an younger brother. If anyone knows how to be stupid, it’s me.”
“I’m part of the disaster that is the Wayne family. I think that has you beat.”
“My parents are mad scientists and my dog is a ghost. Try again.” The teasing smile on Danny’s lips makes him want to be reckless, to keep pushing, to go down this path as far as he can.  Duke can’t remember the last time he clicked with someone so instantly, to be so comfortable with them so soon. 
Damn. He’s gonna have to thank Dick for this, isn’t he?
As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Duke pulls it out with an apologetic smile to Danny, who leans back a bit to give him some privacy.
The text that pops up is from Dick. It’s a photo of him and Danny from the side, heads bent close together as they talk with bright smiles. He can just make out the wild red curls of Kori’s hair. 
“I’m gonna put jello in his socks,” Duke says cheerfully, already looking around to find where Dick is hiding. 
He probably already moved locations, the ass. 
“What’s up?” 
He holds out his phone so Danny can see the screen. Danny stares at it, then looks around, then stares at the screen again. 
“...Is he watching us?”
“Yep.”
“...Should we do something about it?”
Duke shrugs. “I mean, I’m up for hunting him down and tackling him if you are.”
“I can do you one better,” Danny says with a sharp grin. He whistles, and Cujo comes running over, Haly at his heels, and he skids to a stop to sit before Danny. “Cujo. You remember Dick?” Cujo barks, as if answering. “Fetch! Go fetch Dick!”
Cujo jumps to his feet, grows from the size of a pug to a bear, and takes off for the art instillation farther into Robinson Park. Moments later, they hear a yell followed by loud laughter, and Cujo and running back, Dick hanging from his mouth, with Kori, Donna, and Roy following after him at a leisurely stroll. 
“I think we’re gonna get along great,” Duke says. “He’s gonna wish he never set us up.”
“That’s the way to do it,” Danny agrees.
“Say, wanna grab lunch together tomorrow?”
Danny blinks, then blushes again. “What, like a date?”
“Yeah, as a date. You up for it?”
“How could I say no? I was promised embarrassing stories.”
He watches as Cujo drops a rumpled looking Dick to the ground, half his shirt soaked with saliva. He dramatically mimes being shot in the heart when he sees them both looking at him, and goes limp when Kori picks him up and tries to set him on his feet. 
Then he tries to act very calm and cool as Danny leans against him. “Think he’s gonna follow up on our date?” Danny asks in a low voice.
Duke closes his eyes and tries not to despair. He didn’t even think of that. “Worse. He’s going to tell everyone else, then we’ll have every available Wayne kid stalking us on our date.”
“Guess I’ll have to rely on you to chase them off, huh?”
“Or we can sic Cujo on them again.”
“Or that,” Danny nods. “It’s always effective.”
He’s really going to have to bring his best to the date tomorrow, just to stay a step ahead of everyone else. Maybe he’ll ask Barbara for a favor and get her to lead them off? And if Bruce gets involved, then Duke is fully prepared to flashbang him, grab Danny, and run. 
It’s going to be a disaster.
It’s going to be fun.
He’s already looking forward to it, and from the mischievous smile on Danny’s face, he’s not the only one.
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robjn93 · 4 months
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janet and jack on the brink of a divorce would have paved the way for so many stories if dc werent a coward and fridged janet. them actually getting a divorce and tim now has two houses to live in, two parents to lie to. and how would janet feel about tim spending so much time with bruce, about the bruises on her son’s face? would she feel like a failure as a mother and blame the divorce for making tim feel like he needs to run away from everyone? maybe janet is the one to purchase drake manor and maybe tim spends more time at janet’s because it was closer to wayne manor but jack feels like tim loves janet more and that he’s replacing him with bruce wayne, that maybe janet moved on already and now she’s trying her luck with the bachelor living next door? and then dana like the feeling of having a stepmom that is actually nice and kind but it still feels like a betrayal to janet because ‘there’s only one woman i can love like a mother’ but also… its dana and she is great and she never tried to steal janet’s spot in tim’s heart but it still feels unfair towards janet to love dana like a mother. throw in there some backstory on janet and jack, they are canon new money so how was their life before being ‘the drakes’? or when did they have tim? like maybe they had him when they were too young and inexperienced, maybe they thought they could pull it off and protect him from the world but then the trip at haly’s, the day tim’s life had changed forever. and what about janet and jack? how did the trip to the circus change their lives? they were already shown bickering but haly’s circus must have had a weight on their relationship that couldn’t be shaken away. imagine taking your son to the circus, to try and make him happy and have a nice family hangout, and you inadvertently exposed him to death and there’s nothing you can do as you stare helplessly because you took him there. so you can only blame the other and find some comfort in being the parent that could have prevented it, but was victim of the circumstances. and who would find out about tim being robin first? how would janet react? would she have tried to talk it out with tim instead of forbidding him to be robin? would she have understood why he does what he does? janet meeting stephanie, getting to know the girl that loved her son even with a goofy mask and thighs on, how would steph feel about janet? and so much more like i need this so bad, you don’t understand
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sailoryooons · 1 year
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Bleh I received bad news today and now I'm in a funk
tw: animal death
Got the unfortunate news yesterday that the puppy I had selected from a family friend's litter passed away. This was sad and I cried a ton, but they were willing to give me the remaining sister, as I've been waiting for them to breed their frenchies for over four years. Today, I learned that the remaining puppy passed away this morning. Feeling devastated for myself because it felt like it was already my puppy (I had named her, bought stuff for her and face timed the owner almost daily for updates) and also devastated for the owner who did everything she could/everything right for them but still wasn't able to save them.
Sadly, I will not be adding a fur baby to my family like I previously shared with you guys. They were already a little over a month old so I thought it was safe to purchase things for her/share with everyone I was getting a puppy but sometimes bad things just happen and it's just not the right time!
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haggishlyhagging · 5 months
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Part of the reason that we don't tend to think of medieval women as workers is that the major expectation for them was that they would be wives and, crucially, mothers. A young woman, no matter her place in society, spent much of her time preparing for her eventual role as wife and mother in the household of her husband's family. Her parents wanted to ensure that they brought up their daughter in such a way that she would not "be a sore vexation to her bridegroom," as the Church father and theologian John of Chrysostom (347-407) put it. So when a young unmarried woman did receive, say, an education, it was largely tied to investing in her theoretical value as a bride. Well-educated women made for good wives since they could later educate their own children, as we will see. They would also be expected to run their own households, a job that involved fiscal acumen, and in the case of larger households, to manage staff. When a medieval girl was educated, it wasn't necessarily an altruistic activity to better her for her own good. It was a calculated marketing strategy and a means of marking her as an excellent potential mother.
The focus on motherhood and the getting of heirs existed for a number of reasons. As discussed in Chapter 3, for the rich, it was a way of ensuring that the property that a family had amassed would be passed down to a younger generation and their interests would be protected. Poor families needed children not necessarily to safeguard property but to have help on it. In an agricultural society, extra hands to help on the farm were in demand, especially when they didn't have to be paid wages. But regardless of whether you wanted kids to carry on your legacy or to help on the farm, you had to contend with one significant barrier: infant mortality. Children died at an incredibly high rate, not only in the medieval period but up until the twentieth century. At the very lowest, somewhere between 20 and 30 percent of all medieval children under seven died, though some put the mark as high as 50 percent. As a result, families required many more births of children than we are accustomed to in order to ensure viable heirs.
Producing all the heirs that their male relatives demanded put women's lives in real danger, but this danger was an accepted part of their position and calling as wives. The Hali Meidhad or Letter on Virginity, which was written in the English Midlands, acknowledged the pain, danger, and worry of mothers, stating that "in carrying [a child] there is heaviness and constant discomfort; in giving birth to it, the cruelest of all pains, and sometimes death; in bringing it up many weary hours. . . . By God, woman, . . . you should avoid this act above all things, for the integrity of your flesh, for the sake of your body, and for your physical health." The danger and pain—the real labor of childbirth and child rearing—were thus not lost of medieval commentators. This was the job that medieval women were expected to carry out, and it sucked.
Beyond childbirth and -rearing, the position of wife in and or itself implied work. According to Jerome, "Men marry, indeed, so as to get a manager for the house, to solace weariness, to banish solitude." The Letter on Virginity likewise directly challenges the idea that women benefit from subsuming themselves into marriage and motherhood. When a submissive would-be wife states that men's strength is needed for help with work and to secure adequate food, and that wealth is the result of marriage and several healthy children, the Letter asserts that such a picture of marriage deliberately misleads women, and that any advantages that they experience from marriage and motherhood come at too high a personal cost. Marriage, the Letter insists, is not a way of forming a team and enjoying a family but is "servitude to a man." Sugarcoat it one might, but marriage was not a romantic partnership but a contract, in which women signed themselves up for a life of grinding maternal labor as well as work alongside their husbands, for which they would not be acknowledged in historical records.
Medieval women appear as parts of households, or “wives of” named men in historical records. But wives were expected to take on the role of helpmeet and coworker alongside their husbands. Even those who heeded the warnings of the Church and turned from a life of motherhood toward God would find themselves working away inside nunneries. Similarly, single laywomen had to work to get by, and society marked out positions specifically for women who, for whatever reason, were not attached to a household. All these women are worth seeing as workers.
-Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women’s Roles in Society
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starrysnowdrop · 1 year
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So I have a huge favor to ask everyone: Does anyone know of any good sites that have compiled the Astrologian lore? I’ve been trying to research the lore behind Sharlayan Astrology, Ishgardian Astrology, the Arcana, perhaps what each card means for Divination, etc. and I’ve found very little besides just basic overviews of it all.
I’m not only trying to answer an incredible ask from @mimble-sparklepudding but also I’m writing Hali using Divination in my next fic and it would help me greatly if I get anything more in terms of what the lore actually says.
I’ve gone through the AST questline and it all still seems incredibly vague to me and I’m looking for anything more specific.
Thank you all so much in advance! 💖✨
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her-favorite · 7 months
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RETURN; J. VALESKA
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(HUSBAND)!JEROME VALESKA X F!WIFE!READER
WARNINGS: i mean it’s jerome so
WC: 3342
A/N: requested! i really hope you like it!! sorry if i got a little carried away in the beginning, i tend to start one topic and just dont stop 😭 also can we talk about how hot his hand looks in that gif omfg.
SUMMARY: You’ve spent your whole life with Jerome Valeska. When the both of you started a life of crime, he managed to fall dead in Theo Galavan’s hand. It was hard without him, but having your husband back in your arms was all that mattered.
-
It’s been over a year since Jerome died.
For over a year you’ve spent inside your house collecting, smelling, crying over his belongings that were still left with you. You both owned the house, or rather, Jerome threatened the actual owner to give it to you both, putting a gun to the man’s head. Obviously, the owner agreed, his body shaking as he watched Jerome’s wicked smile spread across his pale cheeks.
You and Jerome grew up together. It started when you had joined Haly’s Circus and you managed to catch his troublesome eye as he tended to watch you every now and then. You kept to yourself for awhile when you were younger since it was the first time traveling with the drama-filled Circus.
After a couple years at that hellhole (as Jerome liked to call it), you both grew close. You managed to bring out a side to him that he didn’t even know existed. Which brings you to the time that Jerome had been watching you from his trailer. It was around a year before you both traveled to Gotham and you grew more accustomed to the circus living.
The circus troupe had stopped somewhere that you couldn’t remember when you think about this memory, but the thought felt embedded in your mind. The exasperating ginger was sitting out in front of his parked trailer that he shared with his whore of a mother. Just a few years before, his pathetic excuse of a brother had fled, but Jerome didn’t want to think about that. He was sipping on some lemonade that he had stole from a stand further into the attraction, occasionally biting down onto the straw. His eyes followed the way you walked; your fast legs making their away across the grounds and towards someone’s trailer. You were visibly irritated by something, your body language and the stern expression on your face told him everything he needed to know.
At first, he was agitated. What were you doing going to someone else’s trailer? Why was his girl meeting up with someone else other than him? His face showed anger as he watched you from a distance. Your hand reached up and knocked repeatedly on the person’s door, managing to hurt your knuckles in the process. Once Jerome saw the man that opened the door, he felt his body erupt with rage. Your boyfriend.
Obviously, Jerome never liked the asshole. Maybe it was his clouded judgement that told him that you belonged to him and that you were only made to be with him. Or maybe it was because your boyfriend was an asshole. He never treated you with respect and he always tried to steer you away from Jerome. The ginger was more than displeased with the persistent actions of the other man. The amount of nagging and abuse he got from his mother already started the murderous thoughts that occupied his mind, and your shitty boyfriend didn’t help his tenacious thoughts.
At that point, all Jerome could hear were mumbles. He was far enough away to the point where you wouldn’t be able to see him, but close enough for him to see you. All he could make out was your backside as you faced your boyfriend’s trailer, seeming to release your pent up frustrations on the other man. It didn’t seem to be going well as your hands shoved him, the man tripping backwards slightly. Jerome immediately knew that it was your boyfriend’s fault. It always was.
An animated gasp left Jerome’s lips as he, not only saw, but heard the slap you left on the man. The loud sound of your palm smacking the guy’s face echoed in the cool air. Jerome put his fist over his mouth to muffle his laugh once he saw your boyfriend’s face. He was furious, to say the least.
Before he could get his hands on you, Jerome just couldn’t help himself. He quickly got up from his sitting position and jogged his way over to you. Upon hearing footsteps, you looked to your side to be met with your best friend. Or, rather crush. But that’s not something the ginger had to know.
“Heya, guys! What’s going on?” A smug smirk was cemented on Jerome’s face as he looked from you to your boyfriend. He had to stop the laugh that bubbled up in his throat when he saw the other man get even angrier. Jerome always knew how to push people’s buttons.
“This asshole cheated on me.” Your words were said with pure venom as you reached forward and pushed the man standing in front of you again. The glee filled expression on the taller man’s face quickly fell in response to your answer. His jaw tightened as he looked over at your boyfriend, well, ex. When the other man finally tore his eyes away from your angered ones, he saw the dangerous look inside Jerome’s. He was intimidated by the ginger. At first, it was because of how close the two of you were. That was until he heard the way he talked about certain people; the constant need to have your attention and the way he talked to himself about silent promises that he wanted to fulfill. Jerome was dangerous and the man knew that.
“What?” Was the only thing that left Jerome’s lips. He was frozen in his spot before quickly taking a step forward and wrapping his hand around the frightened man’s throat. As if on instinct, Jerome threw the man against the front of his trailer, his hand tightening around the sensitive structure. Threatening words and swears left the gingers lips, his grin widening as he saw the man cower underneath his hold. “If you ever lay a hand on her again,” He leans closer, his green eyes now filled black. His voice was coated with pure malice as he talked, “I will kill you.” Not blinking with a dead stare, Jerome uttered the final words to the man and then finally let go. Your ex fell to the ground, grasping his throat and took deep, fast breaths as he tries to regain his oxygen.
As Jerome takes a step back, away from the other man, he looks over at you. The look you had in your eye was different, something he’s never seen before. His grimace switched into a smile as he made his way over towards you.
“Y’know you’re my girl, right?” He whispers as he stands over you, his breath hot against your lips. Without speaking, you nod your head in response. “Good.” He smiles and swipes his thumb over your cheek. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead before grabbing your hand and walking away from the scene. “Let’s get some cotton candy! I’ve been cravin’ it all day!” And just like that, Jerome was back to normal.
Some people would call the both of you crazy, at least that’s the word on the street. When Jerome finally went through with his plan about killing his mother, he was sent to Arkham Asylum. To your surprise, you weren’t. No one saw you as an accomplice to the insane ginger’s actions, which made the wait for your lover to break out from the old building dreadful.
As time passed and you sat on a hill that captured the sunset beautifully, you weren’t expecting to hear ruffling in the grass behind you. Whipping your head back to see who it was, a gasp left your lips and you immediately landed on your feet.
“Knew you’d be here, doll. This was our spot, after all.” Jerome grinned his crazy smile. He laughed loudly as he felt you run into his arms, squeezing him against you tight. “Y’know, all that time in the looney bin really got me thinkin’.” He starts off. You break away from the hug and look up at him as his hands settle on your hips. “I’m not making a whole speech, y’know I’m not one for words.” He smiles and winks, before continuing. “I wanna marry ya, Y/N.” The statement caught you off guard as your eyes widen and your lips part in disbelief. “I want’cha as my wife, doll. It’s been nagging at me since I got thrown into that funny farm. And blah, blah, blah, here I am!” He throws his arms out wide, before laughing. He knew you were going to say yes, you’ve never denied him before.
Immediately accepting his proposal, you gripped him so tight in a hug that he felt all of the new things he had to adjust to with Galavan and the Maniax just lift off of his shoulders. All he needed was you. That was all that ever truly mattered to him.
Days passed by since the both of you got married (a small ceremony with a persistent Barbara Kean that wanted to officiant the wedding and random, horrified bystanders being held at gunpoint as you both stood on the both of your hill together). It was sweet and nice; something that wasn’t really common anymore. It felt good to get a break from the chaos that Theo had you both commencing around the city. At least for you, everyone knows that Jerome can’t sit still without causing a little bit of trouble.
It was finally the night of the Gala and Jerome was more than ecstatic to be a ‘magician’. He paraded around your shared bedroom, loudly practicing new tricks. The ginger searched for your approval once he finished one and grinned wide as he saw you clap for him. Maybe it was because of the lack of attention he got growing up, but Jerome loved having you praise him. It was a new feeling; it made him feel warm inside. But no one needed to know that; not even Jerome liked to admit it.
Theo had chose you to be his assistant in the show, saying that your chemistry would be good and make it more believable. You had immediately agreed, wanting to always be by your ginger’s side.
Later that night, the both of you stood behind the curtain and waited for the cue. His green eyes searched over your body several times, ogling the way you looked in the tight pink clothes. When you jokingly called him out on it, he gave you a wink and said, “Don’t worry, doll, as soon as this is over, we’ll make some magic of our own.” He cackled with volume, only quieting down when you put a hand over his mouth. The last thing either of you wanted was to be caught too soon.
Once the both of you made it on stage, the plan was going perfectly. Everything went accordingly and you and Jerome were having the time of your lives. Finally, when your disguises were off and Jerome had thrown a knife into the deputy mayor’s chest, the sound of gunshots filled the vast room and screams were heard everywhere. You could hear Jerome’s laugh clear as day as he watched everyone shriek in fear.
Eventually talking on the phone with Detective Jim Gordon, Jerome managed to get under the man’s skin. Jim’s girlfriend was laying on the wheel as you watched your husband laugh into the phone and then straighten back up.
“I think that went well.” Jerome smiles and looks back over at you. A grin graces your features as you nod, silently agreeing with him. With a quick appearance from Theo Galavan, it wasn’t a hard decision to hit him in the head with the hammer that was conveniently sitting there. As more unfolded and Jerome called out for the one and only Bruce Wayne, the air seemed to tense up. When he finally got his hands on him, he held a threatening knife to the younger kid’s throat. You knew better than to disrupt Jerome when he had his mind set on something, so you watched him and maybe if you weren’t too focused on your husband’s actions, you could’ve stopped it.
The sight of a knife stabbing into Jerome’s throat made your entire body feel like it was on ice. Goosebumps filled your skin and a scream left your throat without you realizing. He fell to the floor with Theo still sticking the blade into him as Jerome’s blood gushed out of his mouth, dribbling up near his eye. The sight still haunts you to this day.
When Galavan finally stepped away from the other man, your knees buckled and your hands clutched Jerome’s suit. You begged and pleaded with him, with anything, that he wasn’t dead; that this was just a nightmare. A really horrible nightmare.
It wasn’t.
You watched him take his last breath as his eyes focused on yours. You convinced yourself that he wanted you to be the last thing he saw before he died; and you were left hoping that thought was true. His gold band on his left ring finger seemed to shine brighter than before as it reminded you that you were now a widow. No way in hell could you ever be with someone else when you were swooned by Jerome Valeska.
“I love you.” His last words were tight and quiet and barely left his throat, but they were crystal clear in your ears. It almost felt like you were the one being stabbed as his eyes lost their light and his body relaxed against the cold stage, his warm blood still pouring from his lips. You sobbed and screamed as your hands clutched his clothes. He wasn’t dead, he was just joking, like he always does. It was a ploy to get the GCPD out of here, right? It wasn’t real, it was just Jerome playing a sick, sick joke, like always. You would’ve done anything to be correct.
Before the police could catch you, you quickly fled the scene once people started to move again. You ran as far as you could, not stopping at the constant sirens crowding the night air. You knew Jerome wouldn’t want you to stay there and be caught; he wanted to be free, that’s what he stood for.
Now, this is where you were: sitting in your once shared house, curling up on the couch while you twirled the larger ring on your right finger. You had accomplished stealing your husband’s ring before you ran that night and you haven’t took it off since, even if the ring was too big.
It felt like a never ending cycle as you twisted the ring on your finger, your eyes captivated by the golden band. It meant more to you now. It didn’t just hold memories of the two of you, but it felt like a silent promise of you never letting go of him. Not that you ever could. Jerome felt like he was stitched into your heart, never leaving unless someone reached in and tore him from you. Even then, you knew you wouldn’t be able to let him go.
Your body straightened up when you heard a noise come from the entrance of your house. Ever since you ran from the sight where your husband was killed, you were off grid to anyone else in Gotham. No one knew where you lived, especially the GCPD or the other villains that roamed around now. To others, you weren’t a threat anymore. You never realized how much you depended on the ginger until he was gone.
“Knew you’d be here. Wow, I got two for two!” A loud voice and a cackle was heard behind you as your body flinched. You felt frozen in your spot as your head whipped back and your eyes met his. His eyes. Jerome’s. “I thought you’d be happy to see me, doll. Where’s my hug and the “oh my god, J, I missed you so much!’” Jerome wraps his arms around himself in a hug and then laughs when he’s done talking. “I’m guessin’ you haven’t seen my show?” Before he could point to the tv or even finish his sentence, your body bolted up from the couch and threw yourself at him.
“You’re here,” Your voice was breathless as your words were said with disbelief. You felt the vibration against your cheek before you heard the laugh that left him. His arms wound around your shoulders tightly, sighing as he felt your touch again.
“Yeah, toots. First thing that came to the ol’ noggin’ was to see my girl.” His right hand reached up to cup the back of your head and pull gently on your hair to make you look up at him. “Still as gorgeous as the last time I saw ya." Jerome smiles. You were finally snapped out of your daze once you took a good look at his face. Staples littered his skin, red circles hovered around his eyes, his skin was stretched and tight, and his grin was even more devilish as his smile was pulled to each side, making him look more intimidating.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” His voice grew defensive as he noticed the way your eyes stuck on different parts of his skin. On the way to the both your house, Jerome would’ve rather went through death again than think of you not loving him anymore. He thought that maybe you outgrew him, that maybe he was just a terrible phase in your life and now that he was gone you could do whatever you wanted. He never really considered the word ‘insecure’ before, until he saw the way his face was restructured now. It was weird and gross it even made Jerome upset. He couldn’t bare the possibility that you could feel the same.
“Nothing.” You responded quickly. Your hands moved away from his waist and slowly slid to his neck, not wanting to touch the sensitive staples. “You just look really good for a man that just came back from the dead.” You said, a small smile curling at your lips. Jerome’s neurotic expression switched to a grin at your words, his pearly white teeth showing.
“Good answer.” He mutters before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. The hand that was in your hair tightened slightly as he deepened the kiss. It was an odd feeling; the chapped skin on his lips set a weird texture against yours and the stretched out smile made it somewhat difficult to kiss him, but you weren’t letting anything stop you from kissing your husband.
Once you broke away from the kiss, you took the opposite ring off your finger and held his left hand. His green eyes focused on yours before looking down and watching you push his wedding ring on his ring finger. “Aw, you kept it, gorgeous?” He cooed and his smile became wider as he talked. His thumb rotated the ring on his finger as he felt his body warm up at the thought of you wearing it while he was gone.
“Of course. Everything that you had I still kept.” You answer, moving your hands back on his chest. He had a police uniform on as the leather jacket hugged his arms. He always managed to look good in anything.
“Good, doll. I’m glad.” His right hand moved over to cup the side of your neck as his thumb rubbed gently against your cheekbone. His already made smile widened as his lips curled up into a grin. He leaned down and pecked your lips once, before whispering, “I told ya we would have some fun the last time I saw ya, gorgeous. And I intend to fulfill that promise.” He laughs and leans back down to kiss you with enough passion that could’ve made you melt.
Having Jerome back with you was like a fresh of cold air in a warm room. Having your husband back with you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. You knew that the both of you had so much more ahead of you guys, and you couldn’t be more excited.
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deirdre-belle · 1 year
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Itsy Bitsy - Jerome Valeska x Reader
Summary: Jerome meets Y/N in Arkham. Warnings: swearing, mentions of past violence A/N: I know it sucks but it's my first fic so bear with me.
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Jerome had only been at Arkham for a week, yet he was already tempted to commit a second murder as he noticed a migraine waiting to happen had strolled right into the cafeteria.
"Hey, Ginger." Flashing a toothy grin, Greenwood plopped down on the chair across from him, and Jerome wondered if he'd be able to rip out a couple of the cannibal's rotted teeth before any of the guards had time to stop him.
"What do you want, Greenwood?"Jerome rolled his eyes and said in a bored tone.
"You see that girl over there?" He motioned towards a girl with dishevelled hair as if she hadn't brushed it in some time, and a blanket was falling off her shoulders as she doodled furiously on a piece of paper. "I dare you to spill this one her notebook."
Greenwood smirked while sliding him a plastic cup filled halfway with what Jerome hoped was water.
"No." Jerome, with a dangerous smile, slid the cup back. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Greenwood's shenanigans.
"I'm not asking, Ginger," Greenwood smirked, shoving the cup back to Jerome.
"Not interested." Jerome roughly grabbed a hold of the cup as he got ready to shove it up Greenwood's-
"Why? Because you're weak?"
Jerome froze.
He had two options. He could go over to that girl, "accidentally" spill whatever was in the cup onto her notebook, and risk her never wanting to talk to him. Or, he could refuse and prove to Greenwood and everyone else in this hell hole that he is weak, boring, and he is already walking towards her.
"Mind if I sit down?" He huffed in a bored tone.
The girl studied him for a moment before nodding her head and watching him take the seat across from her. She quickly shut the notebook before Jerome could sneak a peak at what she was drawing.
"I saw you talking to Greenwood, so I know he probably told you to pull my hair or throw that drink in my face," She grumbled.
"How did you-"
"He always tells the new inmates to be mean to me." She leaned back in her chair, fixing her blanket so that it no longer fell off her shoulders, and glaring at him as though expecting him to deny it. Instead, he asked her why Greenwood hated her so much.
At his question, she perked up. Before, she was able to hid it well, but now he could see the insanity lingering in her eyes. And her smile- Jerome nearly feel out of seat at sight of it. It was crazy, beautiful, and made it obvious she was up to no good.
"Did you know that Greenwood is afraid of spiders?" She leaned towards him conspiringly. Jerome wasn't entirely sure where this was going but he knew he liked what he was hearing.
"I'm listening," he smirked devilishly.
"One time," She beamed, "Bitsy got lost and somehow ended up in Greenwood's cell. He thinks I put him there on purpose."
She looked around, ensuring there were no witnesses before she lifted a large hairy tarantula from her lap just enough so that only Jerome could see it. There was nothing itsy about Bitsy at all. In fact, he could see why Greenwood would be freaked out by it.
"I used to have a pet snake," She mumbled sadly, "but my parents gave him to my cousin after I got locked up."
"You would have loved the circus," Jerome said, remembering how Haly's Circus had all sorts of animals.
"Have you ever been?" Her face lit up with excitement. "I've never been to a circus but I've always wanted to be one of those circus acrobats that swing from those really high bars without a net-"
"A trapeze artist?"
"Yeah!" She exclaimed louder than necessary, earning the attention of some of the other inmates. "And the animals are really cool too, though I'm glad they aren't shown at circuses anymore."
"Not at the one I'm from," Jerome scoffed. The memory of being forced to clean out the elephant cage on a scalding summer day caused him to grit his teeth.
"You're from the circus?" She asked, obviously wanting to know more.
"My mom was a snake dancer," he plastered on a smile. "You know, the snake was actually the one that led those dumb cops to her body."
"No!'" She gasped incredulously.
"Yeah." He nodded. His mouth curved into a wicked smile as a fun idea popped into his head. "So, back to Greenwood, I think I know how to get him off our backs."
"How?"
After talking to her, Jerome sauntered back to his own table where Greenwood waited impatiently. Despite his smile, he was clearly fuming.
"I knew you were too much of a wuss to do it," He sneered, although Jerome wasn't bothered by it. It just made what he planned to do a hundred times more worth it.
"You were right," Jerome shrugged, placing the cup back in front of Greenwood.
"What'd she do? Bat her eyelashes at you till you chickened out?"
"Something like that." Jerome grinned in anticipation. Greenwood brought the cup to his lips only to let out a blood-curdling screech as he threw the cup across the room.
The girl's laugh echoed through the cafeteria, gaining everybody's attention.
"You little-" Greenwood roared, charging towards the girl who looked more elated than frightened by his outburst. He never got the chance to do anything because, as soon as the guards burst in, the whole room went into a frenzy.
Half the inmates were in a panic, due to the guards tackling Greenwood. Some were screaming, crying, running around, and a few pretended to be injured. In the middle of all the chaos, Jerome spotted Y/N on the far side of the room gently picking Bitsy up and hiding him in her blanket. Then, she approached him.
"That was amazing!" She grinned. She took her notebook out from under her blanket, placed it on the table, and flipped to the last page. Carefully, she ripped the page from the notebook and handed it to him.
On the paper was a surprisingly well-drawn portrait of himself and in the bottom corner she wrote:
To Ginger -From Y/N
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corazondebeskar-reads · 4 months
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live to rise: preview
doin' something a little different for wip wednesday...
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live to rise
gladiator!Din Djarin x f!reader
coming late January 2024
warnings: dark, captivity, forced proximity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, prisoner of war, indentured servitude, fight to the death, au where the empire wins, graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of injuries, gore, brutality, mand'alor!Din Djarin, major character deaths (not Din), many minor character deaths, tattooed!Din, bleeding heart!reader, Din has hearing loss, eventual smut
The Last of the Mandalorians have fallen; their Mand'alor captured. Stripped of his armor, his weapons, his people. Din rises to fight another day, grasping onto the hope that his son still lives.
No fighter has won their freedom from the Empire's arena before. With the help of a servant girl, can he hope to break free?
snippet below:
In the servants' barracks, which are actually barracks and not a soft word for cellblocks, the gossip has already spread. 
Some of the attendants get to watch the fights. Or, rather, they have to, bound as they are to a single combatant. The mandated proximity is unforgiving, but no one likes to watch.
After all, there’s very little difference between you and the fighters.
Instead, the attendants take on the solemn duty of letting the rest of you know how your residents fared or fell. 
“He was a berserker,” Hali says in hushed whispers. “They took all that armor off, and he just looked like a man. A pretty man, but just a man. But when it started, he moved so fast. It was over in, like, two minutes.”
“Shut up,” says Eli, your bunkmate. “He did not take down a Wookie in two minutes.”
“No, he really kriffing did,” hissed one of the new attendants whose name you hadn’t caught. “It was brutal. The whole arena went quiet. And he’s just standing there, covered in blood, looking at the crowd.”
“Okay, whose block is he in?” Eli demands. “Someone needs to spill now.”
“Mine,” you say quietly. 
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