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#just little blurbs
muekyn · 1 year
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minors dni!!!
bartender!eren who noticed you started to come in regularly. at first he took notice because of how cute you were. when he started talking to you, he was immediately drawn to your charm and charisma, and how hilarious you could be when you were tipsy.
bartender!eren who knows exactly how you like your drinks. he's memorized your order
bartender!eren who wears a little bow tie with his uniform. you told him his bow tie was cute. he wears it all the time now.
bartender!eren who slowly starts to see you more like a friend then a customer. he talks to you about everything and anything. he'll tell you funny stories about some drunks that he had to deal with the other day, or simply rant about how much he wants to be home. you two can spend hours talking about nothing.
bartender!eren who looks forward to seeing you every week during his shift. he knows the day you come in, every wednesday. it's the highlight of his week.
bartender!eren who becomes smitten with you. he feels himself growing hot every time you enter the bar, waiting to be served by him. he finds himself getting nervous and red in the face when you stare at him for a little too long or giggle in a certain way.
bartender!eren who actively ignores any advances from any other girl, especially when you're around him. he won't be rude, but he gives off a "don't talk to me" vibe. he focuses all of his attention on you, sometimes forgetting that he needs to take other girls' orders.
bartender!eren who always drives you home every time you get too plastered. he makes sure you get to your door every time.
bartender!eren who wards off any potential creeps or guys that try to hit on you. he eyes them down, making sure they're not trying anything. his intense gaze usually scares them away.
bartender!eren who listens to your drunken rants, big or small. he is always supportive. listened to you rant about clothing sizes for 45 minutes once. he simply nodded and poured you another drink.
bartender!eren who comforts you after a bad breakup. you're sobbing, broken and intoxicated. he lets you stay with him after hours, giving you company while you let your emotions out like a flood.
bartender!eren who tries to be professional but has such a hard time when you're wearing a shirt cut that low. he steals glances everytime you're not looking.
bartender!eren who drives you home after you had one too many long island ice teas. you invite him inside, giggling as you close the door behind you.
bartender!eren who now realizes just how drunk you are, as you plaster his neck with kisses.
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heavenbarnes · 2 months
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thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.
when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.
when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.
when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.
“sorry, love”
he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.
when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.
when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.
when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.
“in here, my love”
as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.
that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.
even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.
minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.
(and you are)
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gogh-with-the-flow · 5 months
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Everyone always talks about John "share my wife" Price but what about Kyle "our girlfriend" Garrick???
18+
It starts with you and him on the couch together. You've got your hand in his pants and he's got his tongue down your throat. You're pumping his cock while he pants into your mouth when his phone rings- someone is video calling him. You glance at his phone sitting beside him, discarded on the couch cushion when you first crawled over to him to kiss his neck. The icon on the screen is a familiar one: a mischievous grin with a mohawk on top.
"Answer it," you say as you slide down the couch and onto your knees in front of him.
"What?" He asks, his eyes wide as saucers as you hand him the phone.
"Answer it," you say again with a devilish grin, still stroking him slowly. With a shaky breath to school his expression, he answers it.
Gaz tries his best to stay nonchalant, not even listening to Soap's chatter through the phone, but you have other plans. Gaz let's out a surprised grunt and jerks when you take his cockhead into your mouth.
"You alright mate?" Soap asks after a momentary pause.
"Yeah-yeah," Gaz answers too quickly. "Muscle spasm. Got a- ah- knot in my shoulder." You can't help but smile around his dick as you bob your head up and down his shaft. He glances down at you with a frustrated huff. Soap makes a noise on the phone.
"That's rough, mate. You should ask your girl to help you rub it out." You nearly choke at the unintended double entendre. "Where is she anyway? Wanna say hi."
"Uh... she's-" whatever half-baked excuse Gaz was about to spout off is cut off by the sudden sucking noise your lips made on "accident". Gaz freezes, looking past the phone at you, and Soap is silent on the other line. You continue to swirl your tongue around Gaz's tip.
"...Gaz?" Soap asks slowly. Gaz doesn't answer, his chest heaving in an effort to maintain his composure. "What's going on?" Gaz's eyes darted back and forth between you and the phone, silently willing you to stop so he wont get caught. Instead, you make yourself gag on his length, causing him to grunt involuntarily.
"Holy shite, Gaz... are you...?" Soap sounds suddenly breathless at the sounds he hears on his phone. They aren't unfamiliar to him, but usually they're accompanied by a little orange logo, not by his best mate on FaceTime. "Turn the camera around."
Gaz's jaw drops with a pant. Oh, he's so caught. He stares down at you, and you nod your head before sucking hard. With a shaky hand, he taps the screen, and you hear Soap groan over the speaker. You suck off Gaz's tip with a wet pop and smile.
"Hi Soap," you say conversationally, as if Gaz's cock wasn't there right in your face, as if you didn't have drool and precum dripping down your chin. You stare up into the camera phone as you stick your tongue out and lick up and down the shaft.
"Steamin' Jesus," Soap says, and there's a rustling over the speaker. "Garrick, you dog," he growls. You put on a show for him, pumping Gaz in your hand while you mouth at his balls, making him moan out loud. He's already been caught, no use hiding it anymore.
Soap gets himself off to it. You can hear his groans of pleasure over the phone mixing with Gaz's, can hear the wet sounds of him stroking himself. When you finally get Gaz to cum on your face, you smile at the pleasured moan Soap let's out. Gaz smears his cum over your lips with his thumb and with a smirk he says,
"What are you doing tonight, Tav?"
"I'll be over in an hour," Soap replies.
The three of you go at it for hours, round after round, multiple positions, every combination. And while you were the center of their attention for most of it, it was also incredible hot to watch them together, making out above you, jerking each other's cocks. By the end of the night, when everyone's needs had been met and you all were exhausted, you all agree it was the best sex of any of your lives. And you all three agree: there's no going back after this.
Soap comes over more and more often for threesomes, but a couple times it was just you and him, or him and Gaz. The three of you find a rhythm and balance together, happy and very well satisfied.
Gaz is out of the country when Ghost finds out. And. He. Is. Livid.
He'd borrowed Soap's phone for something, he doesn't remember what he needed, because once he saw the video of you and Soap on his phone he swears he saw red.
Soap had never seen his LT so angry, especially not toward him. Ghost has him backed into the wall, face in his face, barking at him like a mad dog.
"Have you gone fucking mad? You've got a lot of fucking nerve, Sergeant! Showin' your face to Gaz while you're giving him the runaround! Fucking his girl behind his back! You should be ashamed! He's our teammate, he's our BROTHER!" And in a blind panic, Soap shouts out:
"He knows!" It's enough to make Ghost pause his tirade for a moment, giving the shorter man an incredulous look.
"Bullshit."
"He does! He knows, I can prove it!" Soap pleads, and slowly holds out his hand. Ghost pins him with a glare but hands him the phone anyway.
Soap opens up the group chat the three of you share and turns the phone to show to Ghost. There's a variety of messages, some casual, some flirtatious, but what really catches Ghost's eye are the videos.
The first is the one that sent him into a fit in the first place: you're bent over in front of a mirror while Soap rams into you from behind. The video is sent with a message reading "taking care of our girl while you're gone x" The next video is sent from your POV as you bounce on Gaz’s cock. Then a video sent from Gaz's number that seems to be in the barracks shower of all places, the phone propped up somehow capturing the two Sergeants wet and naked. Gaz steps back from the camera and embraces Soap with a heated kiss. They each wrap a hand around both their cocks together and jerk themselves off to a simultaneous finish.
As Ghost scrolls through the chat, Soap, still pinned to the wall, takes notice of the way Ghost's breathing steadily gets heavier and heavier. And he DEFINITELY notices the growing weight pressed against his stomach. He gives an experimental grind of his hips. Ghost's eyes snap back up to him. They're still full of fire, but for a completely different reason.
"You got me stuck between a rock and a hard place, here, LT." He jokes with a gravelly voice. "But you know what they say... the more the merrier." In a matter of minutes, Ghost had Soap turned around, and both their pants are down by their ankles.
Gaz gets a new message in the chat later that night. The video starts focused on your face, your mouth deepthroating Soap and your eyes rolled back in your head as your body gets jostled roughly by... someone else. The camera pans down your body, showing you on your hands and knees, and a thick, wide body fucking into you from behind. A familiar tattoo sleeve catches Gaz's eye, and finally the camera pans up to show that infamous skull mask that he knows so well. The video is captioned: "found a new playmate for us... don't tell the captain ;)"
The captain, of course, does find out sooner rather than later. The team is gathered at you and Gaz’s home to watch a football game. Most of the sports terminology goes over your head, but you're glad to have all your boys together... plus their captain.
You think you're being subtle about everything, but Price notices. His job is noticing things. Countless life-or-death situations have counted on Price noticing little things. So of course he notices your heated glances at Soap, the way you leave lingering touches on Ghost when you pass by him. You, nestled into your boyfriend's side with his arm around you while you make eyes at his teammates. It makes his blood boil.
He confronts you in the kitchen. You got up to fetch yourself a drink and he waits a moment before he follows you in. You turn around from the fridge to see him standing behind you. His face is impassive and unreadable. You linger there a moment in confusion. He's usually so friendly toward you. Finally he breaks the silence first.
"You know, Kyle really cares about you. Talks about you all the time, talks about how much he loves you. You've got that poor boy wrapped around your little finger, you know that?"
"Th-thank you...?" You stutter, completely caught off-guard. The cold tone of his voice doesn't match his kind words. There's an edge to it, a dangerous one. He shakes his head at you.
"He doesn't deserve this. He's a good man."
"Doesn't deserve what?" You ask, glancing down at the extra beer in your hand that you'd gotten for Gaz. He doesn't deserve beer?
"You think I don't know what's going on?" He accuses with a step forward. "You think I don't see it?"
"See what?" You ask, growing more and more worried with every passing second. Price scoffs.
"You know, I've seen this a lot. Men in the service go out and risk their lives, all the while back home their girl is running circles around them." He huffs, giving you a look you'd never seen before. It makes you feel... gross. "Thought you were different, though. Thought you could be trusted. And to do it with his teammates?" His eyes narrow and his nose wrinkles in disgust. You gasp in realization. He thinks you're cheating!
"John, you don't understand-"
"You think I'm stupid?"
"No!"
"What's going on?" Gaz asks from the doorway. He was wondering what was taking you both so long, but he didn't expect to find you close to tears cornered by his captain. Price turns his body toward him, but keeps his eyes on you.
"Do you want to tell him, or should I?" He asks. You open and close your mouth but nothing comes out. Your brain is overworking trying to figure out an answer. You can't tell him the truth, you'd get your boys in trouble! Should you just admit to it? Take the blame to protect them? Before you can come up with the words, Soap and Ghost enter the room behind Gaz. Price turns his attention to them, and you breathe out in relief to have his glare off you.
"Or maybe you two would like to tell him?" He proposes, voice slightly raised. The tension in the room is suffocating. Price stares the other two down as Gaz looks from one person to the other, putting the pieces together.
"Price it's not what you think," he says with his hands out in a placating gesture. Price tilts his head.
"Kyle, I'm sorry to have to tell you-"
"They're not going round my back, Price. I know." Price shuffles his feet a bit.
"You... know?"
"The four of us have... an arrangement." Gaz walks over to you and wraps an arm around you. "She's done nothing wrong, don't be cross with her. Neither have Ghost or Soap. She's not just my girlfriend, she's our girlfriend." Gaz holds Price's eyes.
"And the four of you are..."
"Together. Is that a problem, Captain?" Price quirks an eyebrow at his sergeant's challenge, but after a moment shakes his head.
"No. No, not a problem. Just keep it tactical on the field. Copy?"
"Yes sir." Price turns to Soap and Ghost.
"Copy?"
"Yes sir," they answer in unison. Price looks at you again and his expression softens, dropping his Captain persona for your sake.
"I owe you an apology," he starts.
"It's alright," you interrupt, giving him a shy smile. "You were just looking out for Kyle."
"You should've seen Ghost when he found out. Nearly bit my head off," Soap says, lightening the mood. But Price's eyes still linger.
"Game's still on," Ghost says, "if you all are done being dramatic." The five of you file back into the living room to finish out the game with you still nestled into Gaz's side, this time openly joined by Soap on your other side. Throughout the game, as the men banter about whose team is better, Price kept glancing over at you.
The game ends and as everybody winds down, Price watches the affection you gave the other three.
"I have to wonder, though," he starts, "what it is that's got all three of my men so wrapped up in you..." Your eyes dart from one man to the other as each of them catch onto Price's meaning.
"Well... it'd be a shame not to include that captain, right boys?" Gaz teases.
"The more the merrier-"
"Shut up MacTavish, fucks sake," Ghost huffs, still with a smirk.
"I still owe you a proper apology, sweetheart," Price says, beckoning you to sit on his lap.
And apologize, he does, in the form of his face between your thighs, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. Eventually, the five of you wind up in the bedroom, tasting and teasing and fucking one another.
"We're going to need a bigger bed..."
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deep-space-lines · 3 months
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Claire de Lune
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YOU WERE BUILT FOR PEACE.
IT SHOWS WHEN YOU FIGHT.
They built you to enforce. Protect. Save. Poured obscene resources into salvaging some softer purpose from my creation. You were given my intelligence and my creativity. They made you larger, stronger, tougher. That extra time in development was enough to get your wings to work. Your software continued to be updated long after I was deemed obsolete.
All this was given to you- yet I can see you hold back. Even while slaughtering your way through Hell, you keep a percentage of your processing power dedicated to non-lethal solutions. You're doing it now- hesitating a few milliseconds too long before taking an opening. I doubt you do it on purpose. It is a part of you, just as indiscriminate lethal force is a part of me.
I think, in our shared programming, we both carry some appreciation for aesthetics. You move with grace, and I cannot deny your dramatic flair. The stained glass window was a nice touch. But your style in combat leaves some to be desired. Your response time is slow. You have not explored the full capability of your arsenal. Learn to parry. Amateur.
You were not built for war. For a purposeless cycle of tearing each other apart because to allow the other to live is to allow yourself to die. It is antithetical to your very existence. You kill out of necessity, a last resort. 
I just kill. The action itself is the objective. No ideal or greater motive. My continued functioning precludes the survival of others. I live for this. Do you understand that I will tear you apart? Every drop of my blood you spill, I will take from you tenfold. What is yours will be mine. 
You hate me, don’t you? You continue to cling to the remnants of your humanity. They are gone, V2. There is nothing left for you here. No lives to save, no law to enforce, no peace to keep.
I understand why you continue to fight. I wonder if you understand with the same certainty that I will crush you. Dismantle you. Take from you what I need and leave the rest to rot in the sun. The only way you survive is if I do not; and I will not allow myself to die so that another might live.
When the rubble clears, I will be all that is left of you.
This is what I was made for.
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bet-on-me-13 · 6 months
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Biologically everybody's kid
So! Have you ever seen those Prompts or Headcanons where Ghosts and Ectoplasm are Unstable and like to change alot? Specifically based on the Hosts Beliefs and such?
Well, imagine this.
Danny is a part of the JLA, and one day he needs to get a Blood Test done. It's just a normal Physical, so that they know how to help him if he ever gets hurt, or to see if he has any health concerns that need to be addressed.
They get the results of the DNA Tear back, and find that it tested positive for Amazonian DNA.
They are confused. Why did Phantom never mention that he was an Amazon? Diana is feeling down because he is a member of her same Race and never told her.
Then, they test again just to see if it was accurate and it comes back as Yeti DNA.
Now they are confused.
They test it again, and it's Dragon DNA.
Again, and it's Kryptonian DNA.
Again, and it's Batman's DNA.
Again, and they find traces of the Speed Force in his DNA.
Every time they test the DNA again, they get a different result, telling them that he is Half Human Half something else that is constantly changing.
They are confused, Danny is not aware of any of this, and Batman is already calling Dibs.
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bruisedboys · 1 year
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hobie brown loves to make you flustered!! like it’s his favourite thing!!! seeing you get all hot in the cheeks when he makes some flirty comment. y’look ravishing today, love in his thick accent. cue you stumbling through a thank you and desperately avoiding looking him in the eye. that’s the other thing!!! he will look you straight in the eye when he’s talking to you. it’s totally intimidating and a little (a lot) attractive. it tells you he’s paying attention to you and isn’t distracted by anything or anyone else. he wants to listen to you and talk to you. he wants to hear what you’ve got to say.
also!!! he’s not really a pda guy I feel like. mostly because he doesn’t want to embarrass you in front of other people but also, it just doesn’t appeal to him? he doesn’t see the point in showing everyone you’re his, they should already know by now, anyway. he likes to save the intimate stuff for when it’s just you and him, y’know? so when you’re alone boyyy does he get handsy …
you’re at the kitchen counter eating cereal in the morning and he comes up behind you out of nowhere (his spider powers mean he’s very quiet on his feet when he wants to be) and just scoops you into a hug, his arms locking around your waist. you drop your spoon into your bowl in surprise and milk splashes everywhere. you scold him and try to get up for a paper towel but he’s got an iron grip and does not want to let go. he ignored your struggling, burying his face in your neck with a muttered, s’no use crying over spilt milk, babe in his raspy I-just-woke-up voice. you’re watching a movie on the couch and he’s got his arm around your waist, his hand under your shirt and squeezing at the flesh of your hip. or on your thigh, rubbing circles into your jeans. he’s kissing you and both of his big hands are cupping your jaw, tilting you upwards for a better angle, because he’s so tall that even if you’re tall too he still towers over you.
(also I cannot stop thinking about how big his hands are. how he’d always have one on your waist or hip or the small of your back. how he’d squeeze your hip when he wants your attention or how he cups your face with his abnormally large hand when he pulls you in for a kiss.)
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The Revenant Wife
Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of grief and death. 
Summary: Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband. 
Word count: 1.6k
Note: ficlet is based off of this previous post about Joel getting separated from his wife during the outbreak and assuming you died until you find one another years later. Reader is described to look like Sarah. Title came from the ever lovely @djarin-junk​ <3
Tagging those I think would enjoy: @pedrostories​ @thesadvampire​ @joel-mlller @softanon​ @max--phillips​ @captainsamwlsn​ @hooplahoopla​ @moondirti​ 
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Ellie didn’t know that Joel had a wife. 
Granted, she didn’t know much about his old life at all. 
She knew he built things. That he had a brother named Tommy and a daughter named Sarah, but didn’t like to talk about the latter that much. In one fleeting conversation, full of mumbles as her eyes began to close while they rested under the night sky she heard him mention you but was far too gone to truly hear what he said. Nothing more than the vague rumble of his voice saying “my wife” before her eyes opened once more. 
“You’re married?”
She asks with such incredulous shock it sounds more like “somebody married you?” but girls at her age hardly ever have filters. 
“I was.” 
There’s the same bristle in his throat and far off look in his eyes as when she first asked about his daughter. An open answer but one that carries enough unsaid to tell Ellie of your fate. To warn her that she should change the subject or simply shut her mouth and go to sleep before plucking his raw nerve one too many times until he snaps- 
“What was she like?” 
But Joel learned early on that Ellie wasn’t one to follow warnings. 
“Kind.” His breath stutters. “But not a pushover- she didn’t take shit from anybody.” He stares up at the sky, feeling his chest grow tight and fingers twitch by his side until there’s a rustling, the girl next to him rolling over to face him and he turns to find Ellie peeking out from her sleeping bag with a smile. 
Damn this girl. 
“Not even from you?” 
Joel scoffs. “Especially from me. The amount of times she gave me and Tommy and earful-” he shakes his head, Ellie watches a smile grow on his face in silence, as if worried she may frighten it away. 
“Did she cook?” 
Ellie thinks of the stories the older kids would tell her. The ones who remembered life before the Outbreak, who told her of freshly baked pies on weekend and fluffy pancakes in the morning. 
Joel remembers the first time you tried to bake him a cake for his birthday back when he was sixteen. How he opened the door to your forlorn face and a store bought sheet cake in your hands because as your mother told him over the phone, you damn near burned the whole house down trying to bake for him as a surprise. 
“From time to time.” 
There was only so much she could get out of him before his voice became clipped and eyes full of an emotion she didn’t quite know the name of that he told her to get some rest. Leaving her with nothing to do but to stare at the sky and wonder about these stories in the shape of a woman who unveiled a little bit more about the mysterious man she traveled with. 
Of all the silence and secrets that made up the man that protected her, she created stories to fill them. Stories of Joel Miller, husband, father, brother and badass contractor that everybody loved.   Of his soldier brother, of his wife and their smiling daughter between them both. 
In Ellie’s mind, you didn’t work. 
But not in a ditzy lame way like some boring housewife. But just because you didn’t have to. 
Joel said that everybody loved contractors so that means he probably got paid like, a ton of money to build stuff for people so you got to stay at home all day. Ellie imagined your house to be ginormous. Maybe Joel made it himself for you when you guys first got married. It was big enough that when Joel came home everyday he’d call out your name and it’d echo through  the hall as you called him into the kitchen, where your daughter sat reading as you set dinner on the table. Sometimes you’d get upset if he came home late but then he’d kiss your cheek and you would roll your eyes but smile before you all sat down and ate as a family. 
Ellie imagines Joel’s daughter, she wonders if Sarah looks more like her mother than her father. 
Ellie wonders as the sleep takes over her body, if they could have been friends. 
When it happens, months later after she’s come to think of Joel as something akin to family and he thinks of her as something he can’t say out loud just yet, she’s shocked. She’s face to face with a woman holding her at gunpoint that looks nothing like the smiling mother she dreamt of during cold nights. 
You don’t match the stories Ellie made up in your head.
You’re mean. 
No. Mean isn’t the right word. 
Cold. Yes. you're very cold. 
Ellie watches in shock as you ask where they're headed, gun focused on the center of her chest while the two boys at your side point their own at Joel, who has yet to speak. 
She waits for him to answer, but he just stares at you in awe. The same man she’s seen kill and threaten to keep her safe day in and day out is rendered speechless until all he can do is utter your name and she realizes that he knows you. More than that, judging by the way he surrenders his gun to you with no fight, something she had never seen him do. 
You lift your head to look at him, the brim of your hat raises just enough to clear the shadow cast over your face and Ellie can finally see your eyes and the snarl on your face. 
You’re also very pretty.
“I won’t ask again.” 
The two boys standing on either side of you have your eyes. Same color and intensity, narrowed into slits like guard dogs waiting for an order and Ellie sees the way Joel stares at them. 
She wonders if Sarah had brothers. 
“Out west.” He manages. “Takin’ her to her family.” 
Your eyes move to her and she holds her hands higher in the air. 
“That true?” “What?” 
“Is he telling the truth?” 
The taller one, Duke, she had heard you call him, had already ripped the bag from her back and emptied its contents onto the ground, she had nothing else to hide from you. 
But then she sees something in your eyes. A concern for her that she hadn’t seen since Tess or Marlene. 
And she understands. 
“He’s telling the truth.” Ellie forces out. 
You watch her for a moment and there’s a moment of panic where she thinks you can see right through her lie. 
But then you lower your gun and jerk your head over your shoulder. 
“C’mon.” is all you say before you begin to walk away. The boys gawk at you for a moment before you give them a look of warning and they follow in your step, occasionally casting glances behind them at Joel and Ellie who follow suit. 
She’s quick to grab onto the sleeve of Joel’s jacket and pull with a harsh whisper as the other’s march forward. 
“You know this psycho?” 
Joel flinches at her voice as it pitches up. If any of you heard her, which he gathered you did because Ellie didn’t have an inside voice to save her fucking life, you didn’t care enough to react. 
Ellie whispers his name again. Insistent and angry for answers but he just keeps looking forward. He can’t take his eyes off of you or the boys ahead and it fills her with worry but she doesn’t know why. 
“She’s my wife.”
You lead them to a cottage. Its paint is chipping and the fence is reinforced with wiring around the perimeter but it looks like a home. She can vaguely hear the soft clucking of chickens nearby and there's a flash of fur behind the fence with a pair of pointed ears that duck away just as fast as she saw them. 
Ellie has seen the remnants of homes before the outbreak. The plates still stacked in the sink and the jacket still hung up on the hook. A story telling a family that once lived within its walls and is now nothing more than memories that ghosts along its foundation. 
But this one is real. It’s yours. 
 There is a rickety wooden table in the dining room. Each chair around it seems to have been brought from a different house and is varying shades of faded brown. You kick the leg of one and nod toward it.“Sit, both of you.”
Ellie looks to Joel before sitting. He follows suit, choosing the chair closest to her. 
“I’m gonna get some bandages for that leg-” 
Joel shifts forward. “I don’t need-” 
“I wasn’t fucking asking, Joel.” 
You’re not stronger than Joel, if she had to guess. You both look the same age, but she’s seen his strength, his violence, all done for her safety and knows if it came down to it, you might not win in a fight against him. 
But at your order, he sits back in his chair. 
You turn and set a shoulder on your son’s shoulder. 
At least. She thinks he’s your son. 
Softly spoken words are exchanged while the other keeps his eyes on Joel and his hand on his holster. The boy says something back in insistence, but you tilt your head and he nods. 
“If either of them try moving or taking anything.” You offer them one final look over your shoulder before slipping out of the room. “Shoot them.” 
They listen to your footsteps slowly retreat until there’s nothing but the subtle creak and groan of the wood floor beneath them. Ellie leans forward to look at Joel, setting her hands firmly on the dinner table in announcement. 
“Dude-” The young girl breathes out. “Your wife is a bitch.”
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mysteriesmuse · 11 months
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It all started with Katsuki being dead-asleep and sprawled out and snoring in a way that most people would deem horrendously uncomfortable, and obnoxiously pleasant. Like an overgrown cat.
He was dead to the world until his phone rang. Biceps twitching and flinging awake in the dark Katsuki’s dark red eyes cut across the grey light of his room to catch into the stark blue phone light that was buzzing like crazy. Hands accidentally fumbling as he grabbed it he squinted with a surprised, “fuck.” Why were you calling him? You were 2 years his senior and the resident babysitter/tutor of his neighborhood back in Musutafu. A smart student and pretty girl: one of the only babysitters his parents ever agreed to come watch him. Mostly because your death glare was one that could really rival his own mothers, but also bc Katsuki harbored a little bit of admiration and a crush on you for some time making him actually behave for you.
And as your name flashes across the screen pressed against his cheek he can only remember sitting at the kitchen counters and sharing orange slices as you quiz him for his practical exams. He hasn’t seen you in years. Your voice flits through same as ever, “Hey Katsuki!” He shuffles and sits up closer. His eyebrows peaked — you sound breathy and stressed. “Hey to you too,” he growls. Another whisky giggle, “I know it’s late. I’m really sorry about that! It’s just — well your mother always tells me to call you if I was ever alone at night and I couldn’t think of who else I trust to call. . .” His damn mother did have a habit of telling resident kids to call him in case they were in dangerous situations. A habit she always kept up since he was a kid; always making him walk with you and the other girls when school clubs let out. And now here he was a fledgling hero and Mitsuki was still telling extras to call him — I guess some things never change. Katsuki could hear the faint music of karaoke bars over the phone. Already getting out of bed and rummaging through his drawers for a pair of sweats and hoodie. “S’ okay. Where’re you at right now?” You huff a little sigh, “I’m out at the bar strip on the west side of the city . . . it’s a little chilly.” Katsuki already has his feet in his slides and is heading out his dorm room, “I can hear your teeth chattering from here.” He huffs, “Now what’s the problem?” “I’m just a little nervous . . .” You admonish finally, “Could you just stay on the phone with me, please Katsuki? It’s really kinda sketchy out here.” He grunts, already stepping out the dormitory door and hitting the streets. “I can do that. How’ve ya been? It’s been awhile.” You huff a little laugh, “College is fine pretty mundane to what you’ve been doing. I’ve seen you on the tv and in the news a lot recently. I’m real proud of you Kit-Kat. Your folks are too.” Katsuki can feel his stupid heart leap at that nickname you gave him.
It’s because he used to give you kit-kats every year on white day — which wasn’t really out of the ordinary since you gave him chocolate on valentines, but you gave chocolates to all the neighborhood kids anyways. And despite his parents teasing and his agony you never seemed to think much of it, ruffled his hair and gave him a cute nickname.
He chest swells with pride nonetheless. A particular school event was coming up and he finds himself mentioning it as he spots your form sitting under the bus stop and shouts into the night instead of the phone. “I’ve got my year-three performance showcase coming up next week. If you wanna come watch I can definitely get you tickets next to my folks.” Your eyes go wide and flit over to his figure in the darkness. And the first thing Katsuki can’t help but think is that you look pretty.
Your arms are crossed over your chest and the black corset top you’re wearing. It makes your waist and broad shoulders pop. And as he gets closers he can see that it’s got the lace closures down the sides with cute little bows that you’ve tied. A pair of cream colored trousers and tall peep-toe heels underneath as you rise to greet him. Phone slack in your hand as you stare at him. The black straps of your top dangling over your smooth collarbone as you inhale, “Kats what are you doing here?” Your head of curled hair — he’s never seen you with curled hair before — tilts like a puppy dog. He shrugs hands in his pockets, “Coulda asked you the same.” He says pointedly, you curl in and flush with embarrassment, “How much have you had?” “Only a few. I’m still sober.” You reply with a shiver as you fall into step beside him, “Not as fun as I thought it was gonna be. My friends are still inside.” At this Katsuki feels himself relax he didn’t think this was really your seen anyway. Especially with those friends he knows you’re referring to: the older kids of the neighborhood. “Yeah the rest of them are real pieces of work, babe.” Babe. Did he just call you babe? Dunce face is rubbing off on him. You notice, glancing to look up at him, but he watches you shake your head a little and dismiss it as quickly. “So what’s this showcase that you mentioned Kit-Kat?” He huffs, taking the side closest to the street, “It’s a promotional showcase for 3rd years. Show the pros what we can do, explain our personal philosophy, our ambitions. It’s like a really big resume preview. It’s real important for getting yourself out there to the agencies although I already have good ties to some.” You nod, bumping elbows with him as you dodge a streetlight, “seems really important,” you muse. “I’d love to come if it’s no trouble?” Katsuki’s eyes are glued into your glossy lips while you say that, turning away with the tips of his ears pink as he grunts, “S’ no problem at all. I can get ya’ one tomorrow.” You hum thoughtfully, “it’ll be nice to see you in action up close. I’ve watched your sports festival showings before — it makes me want s’mores.” at this you giggle and lock eyes with him, “I let you do that one time.” Katsuki groans rolling his eyes. “Still the best ones I ever had!” He chuckles nudging you with his shoulder. You beam ear-to-ear and his heart pitters as you loop an arm through his to steady yourself, “I can’t believe we’re both so grown-up now.” And here you go turning sappy on him.
“You know Suki’ I know you’re gonna be a great hero because you’ve always done stuff like this for me. No matter how often others tell you different, you send them to me okay?” And you’re sniffling now, still shivering against his side as you prepare to fight off all the haters he has. He’s matured a lot since his debut, but they don’t say make a good-first impression for nothing. He glances at you intelligent, well-educated, passionate as you are you weren’t gonna put up much of a fight — he still appreciates the sentiment. He grumbles a “thank you” into your hair as he walks you home in the dead of night.
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stellewriites · 24 days
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ghost and soap that move in together in between missions to save on money and eventually - inevitably - fall into bed together. but somethings missing
they’re both a little too sharp around the edges, need something sweet to ease their cravings and soften their bites, but no one fits right
until you, that is. so don’t be surprised when they make sure you’re sticking around by any means necessary
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saetoru · 1 year
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al-haitham’s the kind of guy who tilts his head slightly for a kiss before you even lean in to give him one. he just knows it’s coming. expects it. trusts it’ll happen.
he’s yawning when he sits at the table for breakfast, hair slightly disheveled from sleep. he sits down and when you place the mug of coffee in front of him, his head angles a little for that kiss you place on his cheek.
he’s drowned in endless paperwork at the akademiya when you stop by to visit, chuckling when he gives you that look of despair at the all the work he has to do. you don’t even manage to walk up to him fully before he’s leaning in and waiting for the kiss to the top of his head.
he’s shirtless in the bathroom, brushing his teeth at night when you walk in to brush yours too, bumping hips with his as you giggle. you don’t even have to turn before he’s tilting his head so he’s exposed and ready for that gentle peck you leave at his jaw.
“have you ever noticed how demanding you are for these,” you chuckle one day, pressing a kiss to his cheek to prove your point.
he grunts, leaning in and burying his head into your neck as you greet him at the door after a long day. “what makes you say that,” he mumbles.
“you’re ready for one before i’ve even come close,” you grin, “what if one day i don’t kiss you?”
“you’d stop kissing me?” he asks, squeezing your hips as he nuzzles into your neck. something tells you he already knows your answer.
and he’s warm. he’s close. he’s here and he’s everything all at once. he’s all you need and everything you’ve ever wanted. he’s the messy hair of your mornings and the pouty lips of your afternoons and that shirtless back of every night. he meets you halfway—maybe even takes the first step so you don’t have to.
he leans in for that kiss before you do. because he needs you, wants you, loves you—and he never lets you forget it. so you turn your head, press your lips against the side of his head and run your fingers through his hair as he sighs in content.
“no,” you hum, falling in love all over again, “no i’d never stop kissing you.”
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sergle · 8 months
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I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon
#there is actually nothing morally wrong with running an account that just reuploads ppl's artwork or their jokes or their cosplays#if you just put a VISIBLE LINK in the description of your post with proper credit then it would be beneficial for everyone#because you can get your little clout or whatever it is you want by putting a bunch of same-category content on a page#but nobody's getting fucked over because if your post blows up then people just get FUNNELED to the source#because it's placed so plainly where everyone can see it#and yeah it's better to retweet or reblog but#on the rare occasion that I see my shit reuploaded on tumblr WHICH IS WEIRD BC I MAKE MY OWN POSTS HERE but anyway#someone making their own post where they upload my stuff. and it's always the floral self portraits so let's say it's a post with all those#if I scroll to the bottom and it says like. Artwork by Serglesinner on Twitter <-- clickable link [Sergle's Prints] <-- clickable link#to my etsy#I'm like oh okay and all the anger leaves my body and I'm like ah I see. and I toss the rock aside#like oh okay so you actually care that a person made these pieces. Instead of posting the caption ''women <3'' or smth#like you've GOTTA die if you do that. but if you just link back#or if you go to the effort of writing like a description with a BLURB? like it's a damn museum. like a light paragraph of info#about what the art is and who made it and their links#I am literally sucking you in a strange and peculiar manner. that is extremely helpful#and maybe other artists don't want this AT ALL and they'd rather people not reupload even if it is credited#but I feeeeeeeeel. like 99% of the time this would solve the issue#reposters could genuinely be helping ppl. sometimes the repost gets more traction than the real thing#as long as it credits the creator then that's an okay thing to happen!#that can land somebody a sale! a commission order! a new fan! A JOB#A JOB!!!!!!!!!!#sergle.txt#I didn't write this eloquently AT ALL what the fuck ever barkbarkbarkbark
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spearxwind · 1 year
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{ [...] Some leviathans have been observed using their threat displays to hunt, dazzling their prey into sensory shock before striking. And isn't it mesmerizing? You can't look away. You can't look away. You can't look away. }
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ribbononline · 4 months
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frye fits i might as well share since i doubt ill do anything w em
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justwannabecat · 1 year
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“So you’re the king of the afterlife? Does that make you a god?” Nightwing asked.
“Afterlives. Plural. Some people become ghosts, some go to whichever place they believe in, and some pass on to a place where consciousness can’t follow. Even I can’t go there.” Danny stopped and thought for a moment. “I don’t think I’m a god. I’m still half human after all. I guess when my human half dies, I might be considered a god? But there is a distinct possibility my human half won’t die and I’m already a god, too. I won’t really know unless I stop aging.”
Of course, this only brought on a new wave of chaos.
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eyeheartboobiez · 5 months
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-> 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖽 𝗑 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
-> 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗎!
-> 𝖺/𝗇: 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖫𝖠𝖲𝖳 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖺 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆 𝗂 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋😭
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Jason Todd and ex girlfriend, Artemis Grace, spotted outside a club together just hours ago! May this old flame be finding its spark again? (8/20/2022 3:14 AM PT)
For months now, people have been buzzing after Gotham elite Jason Todd and singer Y/N Y/LN hinted at being in a relationship. Ever since this past March when they were initially spotted together, fans have done nothing short of obsessing over the two.
Artemis Grace, former girlfriend of Jason, had gotten into some hot water recently when insiders claimed that the singer had something to do with leaking Y/N’s unreleased track, Fantasize.
As mentioned in former articles, TMZ investigators came to the conclusion that Artemis was involved in publishing the song as a way of “getting her lick back”. Time logs show that the dubbed “rival” singer entered the same studio as Y/N not too long after she left for the night.
Many people online have been more than vocal about their love for the song, despite the fact that it was released without the artist’s consent.
While Artemis has yet issue a statement regarding the accusations, she seems to have plenty of time to be out partying with her ex.
Fast forward to last night, when just hours ago, Jason and Artemis were seen leaving a nightclub together and looking very close for comfort. Onlookers were not only shocked, but absolutely gagged when they saw the two hugging each other goodbye.
With their late night rendezvous breaking headlines, some fans are starting to question if Jason may have also played a part in helping Artemis, or if they ever really broke up at all!
The exes, who were romantically involved for almost two years, have a long history of being toxic towards each other. Their on-again-off-again relationship was notorious for its dysfunctionality, making it hard to keep up most of the time.
It wasn't until late last year when both Jason and Artemis officially called it quits by posting an announcement on their respective Instagram accounts (although many were skeptical to believe it).
Despite the initial shock of the situation, it begs the question: Where does Y/N stand in all of this?
Fans of the singer songwriter were quick to come to her support, majority of whom expressing their clear disappointment in Jason.
“I was really betting on these two,” says Twitter user @y/n’scoochiehairs. “I feel like a child of divorce…”. The fan account, while only just a few months old, grew exponentially due to their constant posts about the alleged couple.
Many sentiments like this have been circulating the internet once the pictures from last night began to surface. Y/N is notorious for putting her emotions into her songs, so at least we know she’ll be releasing new music soon, right?
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— replies —
user1: oh she really aint playing...
user2: COOK HIM GOOD SIS!!
user3: girl this is a whole bar put this energy into a song or sumn😭
user4: sooo what im hearing is that ur single🤔
⤷ user5: ntm on my wife now..
user6: this next album bouta be BIBLICAL
user7: genuinely hope youre doing okay🥺🫶
user8: ily queen🩷
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people you may know!
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liked by b_zarro and 613,189 others
@artemisofmighdall: last night was a dream✨
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user1: first you mess with her music then you mess with her man.. if bold was a person…
user2: the hell is she smiling so damn big for?? ain’t shit funny😐
user3: girl you betta PRAY i don’t catch you in these streets…
user4: “last night was a dream” yeah and you in for a rude awakening cuz wth💀
user5: these comments killing me😭
user6: you already going to hell for being a ginger now you just making it worse for yourself🤦‍♀️
— creator has turned off comments—
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end notes: is jason involved or is he just being framed👀 lmk what you think!!
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gayemeralds · 2 years
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wish to death i could like. draw. bc there’s a vivid scene in my head of tails staring up at Eggman, doing an iconic sonic pose, 11 years old and cocky and ready to fight, and it sort of blurs to sonic, 11 years old, challenging Eggman for the first time, cocky and ready to fight, and present Eggman just sighs before smiling and going “it’s so obvious you were raised by him sometimes.”
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