Alfred Gave Them The Sheets

Studying (reading) my tomes (comic books) to expand my esoteric knowledge of the universe (Batman lore) so that I can form my own ideology (put my blorbos in situations)

I’m trying to write the type of fics that make you sit wherever you are and repeatedly go “Lawd” in different tones

Never Meant

Warnings: angst, swearing

When Joseph Joestar had sent you a letter after your graduation you were beyond confused. You hadn’t heard from the old man in nearly a decade and here he was offering you a job at the Speedwagon Foundation. You had accepted, of course, grateful for such an amazing opportunity, and an excuse to see more of Dark Lady.

Several years later you had been the first on the Speedwagon team to be sent to Morioh to investigate the disappearances in the area. You had been told it was a quaint town, so you had chalked most of them up to runaways before you had even gotten there, but as soon as you had it became apparent that there were many stand users around. The whole atmosphere seemed to vibrate, making the hair on your neck stand on end.

You hadn’t been on such high alert since Egypt.

You then began your work of making the locals like you. It wasn’t really hard, just a few complements here and some extra grace there and just like that it seemed everyone liked you.

After being there only a week you received a letter from the Speedwagon Foundation, informing you that Joseph had a son in the area and that you were to keep an eye on him. Protect him. At least until Joseph could get there. It always seemed that whenever you found peace, the world threw another Joestar on your plate.

But you went, knocking on the door of the address you were given and waiting for a response. A younger woman opens the door and you explain that you’re there on Joseph’s behalf. She gives you a nasty look and tries to slam the door in your face. You jam the door with your foot and let yourself in.

She opens her mouth to scream and you give her a look that makes her rethink it immediately.

“Listen, Tomoko, I’m not Joseph’s wife, and I’m not his mistress. I’m just a friend and I don’t care if you fucked the old bastard. I’m just here to protect your boy from whatever’s going on around here, okay? I’m on your side.”

She nods and gestures to the couch, sitting beside you and calling out for, who you assume, is Joseph’s secret child.

You’re most surprised by how young he is. A teenager, definitely no older than sixteen. That meant he was born a few years before you had met Joseph. You weren’t surprised that he was still able to get around then, he was undeniably handsome, just not really your type.

Tomoko introduces you to her son, Josuke, and you nod, wordlessly getting up and pushing the left sleeve of his t-shirt up, revealing the star-shaped birthmark. You nod to yourself and shake his hand, finally introducing yourself.

Out of curiosity you bring Dark Lady forward and make her sit beside you, tail curled around her feet, her head resting on your thigh. The boy’s eyes widen and he backs away a couple steps.

“I see,” you hum, allowing your stand to return to wherever she goes when she’s not with you. You liked to think that all stands went to the same place when they weren’t aiding their masters, and that she and Star Platinum still shared space somewhere. Maybe Hierophant Green was there as well. One could only hope.

You return to your seat and explain the situation to the both of them, omitting certain parts that you would later tell Josuke in private, as not to make Tomoko think you were insane. You also informed them that the Foundation was sending you a second set of eyes to aid you on your mission, and that they would arrive in a couple days.

Josuke had suggested you go to his friends house to speak away from his mother. It was there that you had explained Dark Lady, and his own stand, who he called Crazy Diamond, to him. You had also told him that his father was coming to visit, and while he wouldn’t be forced to see him, he was more than welcome to join you in picking him up.

When the boat arrived a couple days later, Josuke had decided to join you after all, so it was there that you saw Joseph for the first time in twelve years. The first thing you noticed was how absolutely decrepit he was, so naturally you commented on it, telling him how shitty he looked, earning you a swift whack from his cane.

After your vision had stopped swimming, you looked around, knowing that your partner was going to be the one escorting Joseph. A broad white-clad chest was what was before you, so you followed the figure and were surprised to be met with a more than familiar set of teal eyes.

Of course. Joseph hadn’t known of how deeply involved you were with his grandson, and you doubted Jotaro had told him. From what you could tell, Joseph had just picked people he trusted that he knew got along.

You had heard that Polnareff was severely injured in a mission the previous year, rendering him unable to go back into the field. It wouldn’t be long before the old man died, leaving just the three of you. Just more reminders of how thinly stretched the original crusaders were now.

You decide to save the greetings you had for Jotaro for later, focusing on helping Joseph, and making sure he got an earful for cheating on Suzie, though it probably only ended up being about half an earful as deaf as he seemed to be these days.

After a long day of that bullshit, you returned to the Hotel Morioh and locked yourself in your room to ponder your mortality and insignificant place in this world. You doctor had told you it wasn’t a great thing to do, but if you pushed it away too much then it would all crash down on you and leave you unable to function for two days.

A knock at your door draws your attention and you gladly answer it. It’s Jojo. God how you’d missed him. You throw your arms around his massive torso and squeeze him. He returns the gesture, pressing you into his warm body, where you revel in his scent once again.

“Long time no see,” he mumbles when you finally part.

“No kidding,” you chuckle, gesturing for him to make himself at home as you lock the door behind him.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” he states, standing at the window, looking out at the waves crashing on the beach. “But it can’t be like last time. Not now anyways. I um, I got married a few years ago, and uh, we have a little girl. Jolyne. She’s uh, she’s six now.”

Six. He had a six year old and a wife waiting for him at home.

“Lucky man,” you murmur, a deep sinking sadness rising within you. You had been so caught up in your work you hadn’t even made an effort to settle down.

“What about you,” he questions, turning to face you.

“Oh, uh, nothing for me, really, just work. Always working.”

“I’m sorry,” Jotaro replies, coming to rest a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s fine. I'm still young. I have plenty of time to do something for myself.”

He sighs and drops his hand. “I hope so. I think my wife’s gonna leave me. I'm never home, and she doesn’t understand it’s to keep them safe. But honestly, I don’t think I’d mind. At least then I know they’d be safe, and maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad being gone if it was like that.”

Tears welled in your eyes at the idea of him being happy somewhere far away with someone else and before you can stop yourself the words fall from your mouth:

“Do you love her?”

Jotaro takes his hat off and runs his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I do now, and I don’t know if I ever did. I thought I did when I met her, but the longer I’m away, the more I think about it, I wonder if I made the right decision.”

“I don’t care if you made the right decision, I asked if you loved her.”

“Not now. Not anymore. I love Jolyne, and I always will. I’ll do anything for her, but I don’t know if I can say the same for her mother.”

You nod in understanding, rubbing his shoulders, feeling them relax slightly under your touch.

“I should have waited. You would have understood better than she does. You understand how I act. It was stupid of me, to rush in, to give up. I’ve had so many opportunities to have what I wanted but I let them slip away. Sometimes I wonder if we’re just not meant to be us.”

“Us?”

He laughs sadly. “Yeah, Us, a singular thing. Us.”

“You need to leave,” you state suddenly, grabbing his arm and leading him towards the door.

“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”

“No, Jotaro,” you shout, throwing the door open so hard the knob dents the wall despite the stopper. “That’s the fucking problem, you say everything I’ve ever wanted you to tell me at the worst possible time. You think it’s okay to just waltz into my room, after all we’ve been through, after all these years and tell me that you’ve married another woman? Do you know what it’s like to be me? How fucking alone I’ve been because you didn’t say this nine years ago?”

You lean against the wall, trying to calm your breathing so your heart rate will lower.

“Every night I dream of having what you just described to me with you. I want nothing more than to have a life with you instead of just around you.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry. I want to make this up to you somehow. Please.”

“I know how you can make this up to me. Finish this mission. Alone. If I never see another Joestar again it’ll be too soon, now get out.”

You look up for just a moment and see the pained expression on Jotaro’s face, and you look away quickly before you go crawling back to him. After he leaves you lock the door behind him and begin shoving your belongings into your suitcase, a strangled sob ripping from your throat as you strip down to your underwear and fall face first on the bed, crying into your pillow like you had after you had left him the first time. Maybe the two of you were just never meant.

Got the remake let’s fucking gooooo

i had three fic ideas.  wrote one.  i still have three fic ideas.  this is not how math is supposed to work.

Fyi guys I'll never write anything explicit for Damian Wayne bc I see him as my son that I tuck into bed and smooch on the forehead every night.

fuck sitting on leon’s face HAVE HIM SIT ON MINE!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHEN I TELL YOU TO SIT ON MY FACE LEON DONT JUST PUT 10% OF YOUR BODY WEIGHT DOWN. FUCKING SIT ON IT. SIT. LIKE A CHAIR. don’t ask if i can breathe. just. sit. down.

I try so hard to be normal about Johnny Cage but I need him to spit in my mouth so I have a reason to flip him around and **** *** ***** ***

───clark can't sleep

notes: 18+, smut, nipple sucking

clark mouths at your nipple slowly and lazily, as if he's not in a rush to do anything except this, with his breath feels warm against your skin. he hums a low, satisfied hum as you move, your fingers in his hair, and then he drags his tongue over the top once again.

“clark,” you murmur, half a warning, half a sigh.

“mm?” he doesn’t stop, just flicks his tongue again, lips closing around you with a soft, wet pull.

“this is supposed to help you sleep.”

he exhales a quiet laugh, lips grazing sensitive skin. “it is.” another slow, deliberate suck, his fingers tracing the shape of your ribs. “this is the best way, actually. scientifically proven.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s hard to sound exasperated when he licks you like that, slow and warm. “is that so?”

“mhmm.” he nuzzles against you, breath steady. “calms me down. makes me feel good.” his voice is rough, softer than the dark pressing in around you. “makes you feel good too, doesn’t it?”

you don’t answer right away, and his teeth graze lightly in response, just enough to make you jolt. “thought so,” he murmurs, before sucking again, slower, deeper.