Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻
jealousy | jude bellingham
obsessed with this concept already !!
summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it
warnings: none
word count: 738
a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3
you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.
“someone dm you.” he says.
his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.
“who?”
“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.
“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.
jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.
“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.
“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.
when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.
some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.
he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.
“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.
you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.
“sure.” you say.
he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.
when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.
“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.
“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.
“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.
“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”
“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”
jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.
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Hey, I've been thinking about James with the reader who's super tall, and she's super insecure about it.
Then one day one of James' friends mentions the reader's height, and then she feels bad
(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language)
hii, sorry i took a while with this one; thanks so much for requesting!
and no worries at all! your english is great, but it also wouldn't matter if it wasn't 🤪 even though it feels like it by now, it's not my first language either lol
but isn't it just a lovely tool for us all to fantasize together 🫶
hope you like it! wasn't sure if you wanted the comfort after the angst, so i just wrote it in
pairing: James Potter x reader
word count: 2.1k
tags: angst, fluff, established relationship, insecure fem reader, not proofread sorry
You’re going out with James and the gang, and you’re excited for a fun night out. Until the dreaded dilemma you face every time you dress up: heels or no heels? You know from past experience that all your girlfriends will be wearing them. They range from Lily’s kitten heels to Marlene’s stilettos, but it’s always a little something for the special occasions.
The problem is: you’re tall. Very tall. Taller than all your friends with their heels on. When you wear them too, you look like a giant. You’re also taller than your boyfriend, James, but it doesn’t usually look that off… if you’re not wearing heels. When you do, you tower over him.
But you like the shoes, for some occasions. You’d like to just be able to wear them without its being a big deal. You’ve tried so many times to convince yourself that it isn’t, that you should just do whatever you want and care less what people think about you, but as soon as you’re out, they stare, and you feel awful.
You have a pair you think are really pretty but have literally never worn because of the significant height boost they give. You put them on, take them off, again and again, indecisive. After about the tenth time donning them, you look in the mirror and decide to go for it. What’s the worst that could happen? Short girls probably feels self-conscious about their height too, right? Everyone has something, you encourage yourself as you step out your door.
You’re all starting the night at a nearby pub where you all meet up. When James sees you, he lights up, giving you the warmest hug. His face nuzzles easily into the crook of your neck from the height difference then he kisses you adoringly.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he grins. “You look especially beautiful tonight.” He’s always so cheesy. You always love it.
“Thanks, Jamie,” you blush back. “You too.”
“Well, I have to look nice to stand next to my girl, don’t I?” He stands tall next to you, posing, though he’s quite shorter than you. You roll your eyes smilingly at his antics and intertwine your arms. He squeezes your arm in his and leans up for a peck.
You’re all soon standing around a tall table as you catch up, having your first drinks and discussing where the night should take you. Mary brings up another nearby pub, cosier than this one, and Remus seconds the idea. Marlene boos dramatically and argues you can do that any other night. She suggests a rather rowdy club, and Sirius drumrolls the table in excitement.
“I like that idea,” he surprises no one in saying.
“I don’t know,” Mary pushes back. “Last time we were there, we got separated, and it was so crowded, it took ages for us to even find each other again.”
“Easy fix tonight,” Sirius begins, grinning mischievously. “If we get separated, we all meet back up at Y/N. She’s like a homing beacon with those heels on! We’ll be able to see her over the crowds.”
Your stomach plummets. Some of your friends are laughing, others not so much, but you, you are mortified. You feel clammy and frozen, like there’s suddenly a wide distance between you and everyone else. You want to just disappear, go home and not have to hang out with anyone ever.
Only Lily seems to notice your discomfort, impressive given you’re giving your very best efforts to hide it even though you feel absolute shit.
“He’s an idiot,” she whispers in your ear. “Don’t listen to him. You look great.”
You turn to respond but are surprised to find trying to speak raises a knot in your throat. You can’t imagine how much more embarrassing it would be if you started crying at a stupid joke, so you just given her a strained smile and look down, trying to compose yourself.
Everyone else has been caught up in the conversation moving on, so it’s a little while before James turns to you, noticing your quiet, your downward gaze.
“Y’alright, love?” he whispers, a hand coming to the small of your back.
“Fine.” You repeat the strained smile, hoping it’s getting more convincing with practice.
“Sure? You seem upset.”
“‘M fine.” You don’t sound fine. “Thanks,” you add, trying to lighten the tone.
“Alright,” he says, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “So what do you feel like doing?”
“I don’t know… Maybe something where we’re sitting?”
“Sitting?” he laughs, thinking you must be joking. When you cringe, he realizes you aren’t. “Oh, uh, why?” Then, looking like a cartoon lightbulb has just gone off above his head, he asks, “Are your shoes hurting your feet or something? I don’t understand how you lot wear those things.”
“No, I —“ you begin, but quickly realize that could be a good, believable, non-embarrassing — well, at least less embarrassing — excuse. “Um, yeah, a bit.”
“Oh, well we can find places to take breaks whenever you want. Don’t worry, I’ll go with you to sit as often as you like,” he smiles.
You just smile back, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. When he’s not looking, you crouch down a bit awkwardly to be the same height as your friends around you. You try to keep this up, but after a while, it’s hurting your back, so you fall in and out of the pose for as long as you can stand it.
The night goes on, a destination eventually decided upon, a compromise in the end. Most of your friends seem to be having a good time, but you have been quiet all night. You haven’t been able to shake the feelings of discomfort and self-consciousness that joke sparked in you. You just feel sad. Not to mention your back is killing you from constantly trying to look shorter.
“James, I think I want to go home,” you say into his ear. He turns to you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
“What? So early? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m just not feeling so well.”
“D’you feel sick? Have you had too much?” he asks, lifting his drink. You shake your head. “Your feet hurt?” he guesses again.
“A little. Look, it’s fine; it’s not a big thing, I’m just tired, okay?” You’re tense and pained and just want to get out of here. You feel the tears welling back up, and you’re keen to leave before the waterworks. You give James a quick kiss, adding “Don’t worry! Have fun! I’ll talk to you tomorrow!” in an off, fake enthusiasm then bolt to the door.
As you leave, you’re walking so quickly that you bump into some random bloke.
“Oh, shit, sorry,” he chortles then starts full out laughing with his mate next to him. You push past him.
You have no idea what he was laughing at. Maybe they had been laughing before you bumped into him. Maybe they were just completely pissed and needed no reason. But your already self-conscious brain immediately feels like they were laughing at you, at how much taller than them you were.
You can’t help it now and start softly crying as you walk a bit further down then lean against the wall. The ease on your back feels nice, but you wish you could just teleport home. You hide your face in your hands, not wanting people to see you crying.
So you don’t notice James approach you until you hear his worried, low voice.
“Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He grabs your wrists ever so gently and, holding your hands to his chest with one hand, brings the other to wipe your tears. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
You see how scared he is and know ugly scenarios are running through his mind. You want to reassure him quickly but you can’t get yourself together. The guilt of the real reason you’re so upset being stupid in comparison makes you feel even worse, and you sob as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright, love, it’s alright,” he coos, holding you close and petting your hair. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
You step back a bit, wiping your face aggressively and shaking your head at yourself.
“It’s stupid, Jamie, really I’m fine,” you muffle.
“I just want to help you be okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
You look into his beautiful eyes, the worry in them shining through. You love him. You hate worrying him. And talking to him about anything always makes you feel better.
“I’m just too tall,” you confess.
“What?” he seems genuinely lost.
“I’m too tall,” you repeat, more softly this time, looking at the floor in shame.
“Too tall? Baby, what’s brought this on?”
“It’s stupid, I know. I just, I can’t stop thinking about it since Sirius made that joke.”
“What joke?”
“‘If we get separated, just look for the giant,’” you misquote sarcastically.
“Oh, darling. All night you’ve been upset? I’m so sorry I didn’t do something. I thought you were just a bit tired or something.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” you whisper.
“You shouldn’t be,” James says, with more bite in his voice. “Really, you shouldn’t. Not at your height, not at your feelings. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” He pulls you into a warm hug as you shake your head. He just holds you a long time, till your breathing is even and slow again, then pulls back, keeping his arms around you.
“Hey,” James whispers.
“Hey,” you whisper back.
“I hate seeing you sad,” he says through a comforting smile. It manages to make you smile subtly back at him. “My gorgeous girl.” He kisses your cheek, still moist with tears. “Baby, you’re so beautiful. You don’t have to look like everyone else.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it, Y/N. I think you’re ridiculously gorgeous. Tall, sure, but you’re just too perfect to be anything else. You’re majestic.” You scoff but laugh a bit at him.
“Majestic? I’m a mess most of the time.”
“You can be a mess and still look majestic. You do it all the time,” he says playfully. “You, my love, are like a queen.” You roll your eyes, but your face has softened. “You’re my queen,” he says more sweetly and kisses you.
“Thank you, Jamie. I’m sorry I was being stupid,” you voice your dark thought.
“Sweetheart,” he chides lovingly. “That’s nothing to be sorry for. I just wish you’d told me earlier. You’re not even a little bit stupid. Only for suffering alone,” he jokes. “We all have things. I get self-conscious about not being tall enough for you to like me,” he confesses, looking nervous.
“I don’t like you, I love you.” He smiles at this.
“And I’ll never get used to my queen loving me back.” His tone is teasing again, still vulnerable but very him.
You both take a deep breath and, eyes meeting, just chuckle together for a moment. You shake off the intense emotions, the charged conversation. You sigh and hug him again, his body eager to receive you.
“What do you want to do, love?” His hand is caressing your back as he looks into your eyes. “We’ll do whatever you feel like.”
You have to take a long time to consider it. You’d been so desperate to go home just moments ago, but now you’re unsure. You feel so much lighter and take your time thinking about what would make you happy, everyone else be damned.
“I want to dance. With you. And not crouch anymore,” you laugh. “My back is fucking killing me.”
“Crouching? Y/N, if I catch you crouching, I’m going to be very upset,” he teases. “You wanna dance? Let’s go dance, baby.” You nod, smiling.
“Just help me sneak to the toilets first. I’m sure I look a mess.”
“You’re beautiful, but sounds good. Then we dance.” He kisses you. “And then, once you’ve danced all you want to dance, we’ll take you home, and I’ll give you the best massage you’ve ever gotten. Your feet and back are going to be grateful they’re sore.” You scoff lovingly and put your arm in his.
As you head back inside, you stand tall next to James, feeling like you’re floating, happy for now to be majestic mess.
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Hey my dear mutual! Another super stupid and weird request coming, so, please, feel totally free to ignore completely if you want, really. So, let's say instead of a criminal organization, the Akatsuki are actually a lab team. Which would be their roles, their work focus or their research topics? How would they behave at work with each other or, I don't know, whatever you can think of. Inspired by your agar plates post, by the way, hahahaha
Hello Sasuke, my dear. Don't call your asks weird, I love how creative they are! If anyone wants to write a fic about this please TAG me!
Big thanks to @the-real-sasuke-uchiha for requesting!
The Akatsuki in a modern research lab AU
Akatsuki Labs, Inc. No one knows what they're actually researching, and how they get their funding, however everyone hires them, they're incredibly popular with institutions and businesses alike...
Deidara is a lab rookie who is still at the beginning of his study. He went to a scientific high school and an absolute ace at chemistry. Besides studying chemistry, his other major is pyrotechnical engineering. He blows shit up on the regular and even adds copper sulphate to fires when he is the one supposed to put them out. He frequently steals minerals from the lab to use them for his pottery projects. And yes, he knows how to make meth.
Hidan is on his way to become a neurologist. He is fascinated by the way the nervous system works (especially while processing pain) and has the ego of a neurosurgeon twice his age. However he is regularly asked for a second opinion because he knows his shit. He's pretty popular with the ladies due to his confidence, however many of them are freaked out when they find out what a huge masochist he is.
I've never seen Itachi as a huge stem guy, but I've actually had a discussion about this with my dear moots @pet-plasma-bubble and @suki91 and came to the conclusion that he's either a plant biologist or studies medicine because he's one of these kids with a chronic and/or underdiagnosed illness going into medicine to make a change. Plant biologist!Itachi regularly talks to his plants when no one is looking and he gives them names as well. He doesn't really care much for the actual lab work and prefers to take care of the plants in the different lab greenhouses. Med student!Itachi is one of these anatomy girlies who draw their stuff in fancy colors and actually enjoy studying human anatomy.
Kakuzu is a senior scientist/professor who initially studied pharmacology/pharmacy to save many lives and prolong the lives of millions, but eventually got disillusioned and sold his soul to the pharma industry. He should technically be retired now, but he joined the Akatsuki labs inc to make some money on the side.
Kisame started out as a marine biologist specializing in shark research, however, seeing these beautiful, innocent creatures get bastardized by Hollywood and pollution made him apply to Akatsuki labs inc to help find solutions to the current crises caused by humanity. During his free time, he volunteers in a dolphin rehabilitation center.
Konan is the cofounder of Akatsuki labs inc, everyone respects her and even looks up to her. Once a brilliant scientist in the field of engineering, she got tired of how male dominated it was and how her male colleagues kept getting the credit for her ideas. She frequently holds lab courses for young girls interested going into the scientific field.
Nagato is the Akatsuki labs founder, and rarely seen in the lab. He has made himself a name in the field of robotics by inventing the Shurado robotics system which helps millions of automated machines run to this day. Rarely seen in the lab, he communicated with his employees via his Pain Alias Email. though to be fair, Konan writes most of these emails for him; she's the only one regularly talking to him face-to-face.
Orochimaru is a geneticist and biochemist, his focus being finding ways to avoid cellular decay, as well as the human genome and anti aging research. His parents are academics as well and he lived up to their expectations to the fullest. He has his own skincare formula which keeps him looking snatched at all times. Given the rumors about several scientific ethical code violations, everyone is kinda scared of him except for his personal lab tech, Kabuto.
Sasori is a renowed mortician who's also very interested in histology. His preparation techniques are unmatched and he even invented new preparation- and histological staining methods, which are called "Red Sand" and "Red Technique", respectively. He often gets into fights with Kakuzu about his microtome collection being unnecessarily expensive.
Tobi is the Akatsuki labs CEO cosplaying as a clueless intern that always steals from the candy bowl in the waiting room. In reality, he has a PHD in physics, his thesis being about rifts in space time and interdimensional interactions, however all of his papers are published under an alias. He has a soft spot for Deidara and refuses to fire him despite the latter's frequent "accidents".
Zetsu is a biological anthropologist fascinated by human evolution and human behavior. Some think even his colleagues are subjects of his studies. Some people say he's two-faced, but he is very chatty and inquisitive most of the time. He volunteered to have Itachi's venus fly traps in his office and can sometimes be seen feeding them dead flies or mosquitoes.
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Letting Go: Will Trent x Reader
Tagging: @kmc1989 @yezzyyae @words-and-seeds @trublu2u @@cassiopeiablog
References to Trying Series
Will visits Angie once a year, always on her birthday.
You know when it’s around that time because there’s always a subtle shift in his behaviour. He becomes more subdued, his temperament sharper. He spends his nights in the office instead of coming home, immersing himself in whatever case he can get on his hands on. His preoccupation is a coping mechanism, a way of outrunning the memories. You know this time of year takes him back to a dark place, one he’s spent years trying to claw his way out of. He doesn’t tell you about the war it wages inside him, that he despises the fact he still feels an obligation to Angie, that even from beyond the grave she still has that power over him.
During the first year of your relationship, he tries to hide it. This thing between the two of you is new and he doesn’t want you to think he’s still caught up on his dead ex, that he’s cheating on you with a dead woman. He becomes distant, cancels plans. He actively avoids you because you’re intuitive when it comes to him, he knows you’ll see right through him.
It’s the day after he visits Angie’s grave that you show up at this house with two cups of takeout coffee and breakfast pastries.
“It’s an olive branch,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for whatever I did…”
It’s that that changes everything. The fact you think that you’re the problem, that you’ve come here to try to rectify it. It’s in that instant he realises just how insidious his connection to Angie is, how it has the potential to derail the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Over breakfast he tells you everything. It comes out in stops and starts because he isn’t sure how to describe his relationship with Angie, how to tell it in a way that doesn’t fill him with shame. He’s worked so hard to move on, to get past her but once a year he finds himself drawn back in and he hates himself for it. You hold him in the aftermath, his face buried in the curve of your neck as your hand smooths over his hair.
It's another reminder of just how different you are from Angie, she would never shown him this warmth, never given him her affection. She would have hated you, how good you are, how kind you are, all the things she couldn’t be.
It’s been a couple of years since then, his life has changed. He has a wife now, a baby on the way. He almost forgets about Angie. He’s too busy decorating the nursery and overhauling the garden so his child has a place to play. It’s only in the morning when you place a bouquet of yellow roses on the kitchen table that he remembers it’s even her birthday.
As usual the gravesite is overgrown. It’s a nice plot under an oak tree, one that Will picked out himself. He was the only attendee at her funeral, the only person to put a handful of dirt on her coffin. He’s the only person in the world who ever cared about Angie, who loved her flaws and all, and it shows. He takes his time tidying it up, pulling up the weeds from around the headstone before he arranges the roses carefully within the metal vase.
“It's over Angie.” He says softly, placing his hand on the earth, his fingertips curling in the dirt. “It’s time for me to let you go.”
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