lex

everyone's favorite fangirl! she/they 19

[dumb-blondeee]

Hello there!

My name is Lex, it’s so nice to meet you!

I’m a college student! So posting may be slow sometimes

I’ve been writing for a while but just recently started posting

Mostly posting about Challengers and Wake Up Dead Man

I take requests! Just let me know what you’d like or if you have any ideas

Fic Masterlist

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[dumb-blondeee]

Imagine being Wicks’ daughter and still spending so much time and energy pissing him off, some of the things you do accidentally become a habit Particularly, your flirting with the new, younger priest.

Jud doesn’t mind it. He’s had girls throw themselves at him countless times. He’s used to the lingering touches and fluttering of eyelashes and slightly explicit comments.

What gets him is the genuine compliments. Sure, you spend a lot of time flirting with the poor man, but he likes it, deep down. Cause you see him as a man, and not just a priest.

“What do you think?” he asked softly, showing you his craft.

The two of you were sitting outside, working quietly together. You on a watercolor painting, and Jud on a small carving. The one he handed you was of a small bird, simple, delicate, and done very well.

“It’s beautiful. You have a real talent, you know,” you say softly, genuinely meaning it.

He waves it off, trying to ignore the slight flush creeping up his cheeks as he smooths out the wood with a small piece of sandpaper. You watch him silently, taking in his care for his work.

“It’s like you were meant for this. Your patience, your appreciation for the world. It’s so admirable.”

Jud blushed much harder at that comment, turning his face from you so you couldn’t see the pink on his face.

“Ah—yeah, yeah. Thanks,” he stammered.

“Are you—are you blushing?”

“No, I don’t know— yes? Whatever—“ he waved his hand again, not letting you see.

But you were a nuisance. So you reached out to tilt his chin back towards you. His eyes refused to meet your gaze, but now you could see it in all its glory: Jud blushing.

“Awww. You’re so cute,” you tease, releasing his face.

Jud brushes a hand over his jaw before picking up the sandpaper again. His face still slightly pink. And you sit there with a smile, watching him for just a moment longer before returning to your painting.

inspired by @quietly-kept

[quietly-kept]

Jud absolutely blushes adorably much when you compliment him. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck trying (and failing) to conceal how much this got to him 🥹

[dumb-blondeee]

brb gotta write a little drabble

[heateron]

josh o'connor in la chimera (2023) dir. alice rohrwacher

[dumb-blondeee]

Imagine being Wicks’ daughter and deciding to smoke weed in your bedroom. Why not? Your dad hates it, it makes you relax a bit, and it’s summer. Isn’t that when you’re supposed to smoke? In short shorts and a big tee shirt, hair wet from a shower, the window open so the warm wind can flutter the curtains. And you, sitting on the windowsill, joint between your fingers, and blowing the smoke out.

But after you get high, you feel looser. You are much more expressive. So with the joint finished, you are lying on the floor, listening to the new CD you bought, and painting your nails.

Your door is cracked open, and Jud walks past, pausing when he hears the quiet sound. He peaks in to see you humming softly, your nails now a pattern of black and blue.

He slowly creaked open the door, being hit by the strong smell of weed and polish.

“Woah, someone was having a chill evening,” he said as he stepped inside, sitting on the floor across from you.

You hum in response, looking up at him with a dopey smile.

He chuckled at that. “I like this. You all relaxed.”

You hum again and reach out to grab his hands, examining his nails.

“You wanna do mine?” Jud asked curiously.

You didn’t respond, and just began to clip and shape his nails, before paining them black.

Jud didn’t protest, he just let you gently hold his hands, and paint them with that shiny black polish. He hadn’t let someone do his nails like this since his first girlfriend, back when he was a teenager and just started boxing. So he didn’t know why he was letting you do this now, but here you are. Thus, he stayed silent and perfectly still as you worked.

“I like how your knuckles feel,” you say after a while, voice dreamy. You’d finished painting by now, and were just tracing circles over his knuckles on his hands.

“Thank you,” Jud said quietly. What else was he supposed to say? No one had ever complimented him like that. But, you are high, so I guess that explains something.

“You’re very kind. I really appreciate it,” you say softly.

“Well, I try,” Jud chuckled.

“No, you don’t understand…” you tried to explain.

“It’s okay,” Jud said with a smile. “You don’t have to explain. Can we just sit here? Please?”

You nod slowly. “Okay.”

[dumb-blondeee]

in case anyone wants it, here is my playlist of songs that remind me of Jud.

lmk if there are any you think i should add!

[quietly-kept]

tiny deaths of a heart.

˙⋆✮ jud duplenticy x f!reader

tags: heavy yearning, angst, forbidden love, slow burn, internal conflict, religious guilt summary: Jud's greatest confession is the one he'll never speak aloud. word count: ~560 ˙⋆✮ archiveofourown

Jud had died a thousand tiny deaths since he met you.

None of them had been painful. But each one reminded him that the collar did not make him immune to longing. That beneath the practiced righteousness he wore so faithfully was still a man.

A man who longed for your effortless warmth you carried into every room without ever trying.

Who longed for your touch. For your hands tracing the ink that disappeared beneath his collar, lingering over the stories written across his skin, on the parts of him the world could see and the ones only he knew existed.

His mind wandered to places no righteous man should ever allow it to go. It painted impossible futures and stolen moments, conjuring versions of you that arrived at the most inconvenient hours, when prayer should have occupied his thoughts instead.

His body always answered before his conscience could. Heat unfurled through him like molten fire, settling low beneath his ribs, impossible to ignore and even harder to outrun. He learned to shift where he stood, to steady his breathing, to wait for the wanting to pass.

It never truly did.

So he prayed. 

And every one of them sounded more desperate than the last. Not because God had gone silent. But because Jud already knew the answer.

He was asking to be emptied of something that felt suspiciously like grace.

He caught himself searching for you without meaning to. A familiar laugh somewhere down the street. The shape of someone wearing your favorite coat. A voice that carried your cadence for half a heartbeat before revealing itself to belong to a stranger.

You had become the measure against which the ordinary world failed.

The hardest part wasn't the wanting.

It was how natural it felt.

You had never tempted him with wicked intentions or honeyed promises. You simply existed with your impossible kindness, looking at him as though the man beneath the collar deserved to be known just as much as the priest who wore it.

That was the dangerous thing.

You never asked him to choose. You only made him wonder whether he'd mistaken loneliness for devotion all these years.

Sometimes, after evening Mass, he'd remain alone in the sanctuary long after the candles had burned low. The silence should have settled him. Instead, it filled with memories.

The brush of your shoulder against his. The absentminded way your fingers lingered at the edge of his sleeve before pulling away, as though you had remembered, too late, who he was supposed to be.

The way you'd say his name.

Not Father.

Just Jud.

As if it had always belonged to both of you. As if the man had existed long before the priest. As if there was something holy in the way you spoke his name—powerful enough to bind his heart to yours without either of you meaning to. 

He would close his eyes then, pressing thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose, breathing until the ache dulled into something bearable.

It never disappeared. It merely learned better manners.

And perhaps that was the cruelest miracle of all.

Love, he was discovering, did not always arrive like a storm. Sometimes it came in silence, filling the emptiest corners of his life with your presence until the careful composure of a holy man could no longer hold.

Thanks for reading 🩶

Want more? main masterlist

tags (tell me if you wanna out or in!) @rhapsodyofdarkness @judasjud @rosetintmworld @likedovesinthewnd @ch3rrybl0ssomtree @poetrypoesblehhh @sidelit @knives-out-boy @soealt @explorerof-theunknown @post-apocalyptic-rebel-leader @strawberrymochi07 @peelfreshapple @sea-eyed-dream @roryheartz @prxncess-gestirn @doomprincesswrld @dumb-blondeee @gojodaddy1029 @deadgir1rotting @rosefiammotta

[delicqteheart]

he’s so happy to be unemployed

[dumb-blondeee]

Imagine being Wicks’ daughter and getting so close with the new priest you guys become best friends. Besties. You are besties with Father Jud Duplenticy. After flirting with him so much, you thought it would just piss off your Dad. Not make a friend.

And yet the ex boxer turned priest is actually really sweet, kind, and so easy to talk to. He genuinely trusts you. And suddenly flirting with him feels wrong, because this is not longer a tool of revenge against Dad, it’s something more.

And that’s how you find yourself in your room, crafting in your bed. You’ve taken a recent joy in journaling (and junk journaling), and that is where you find yourself right now. It’s late in the evening, but the summer air is still rather warm as the breeze blows through your open window and makes the curtains flutter.

Your door bursts open, making you drop the pen you were holding at the loud noise. As always, you expect it to be your Father, so it’s a bit shocking when Jud walks in, shutting the door politely behind him.

He kicks off his shoes before sitting on the bed beside your feet. You sit up to give him space, sitting beside him and mimicking his position.

“What’s going on?”

Jud took a short breath. “I don’t know. I’m just… I needed a safe place.”

Your heart clenches with something.

“Of course,” you say softly. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know,” Jud replied in that same tone. “Just… being here is perfect.”

You finally look at his face, seeing the bags under his eyes and the red within them.

“You’re exhausted.”

He just shrugged. “I haven’t really been sleeping.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s just so hard to recently. I guess I just… I don’t feel safe in my room.”

A small pained expression grows on your face.

“…do you wanna lie here while I write?”

He nodded, letting you fix up your bed for him. He didn’t hesitate to settle into the bed, letting out a low groan as he did.

“Woah,” you smirked softly, “you good there?”

He waved you off at that comment. “Fine. Just comfortable here.”

“It’s the same bed as yours.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You continued your writing sitting on the bed beside him. Within the next few minutes, you heard his soft snores.

“Goodnight, Jud,” you whispered softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of his hair off his forehead.

inspired by @podcast-official

[nondelphic]

"just write a little every day" ok but what if i write nothing for 3 weeks and then suddenly type like i’m being hunted by god

[the-ody-ssey]

recently I've had this unhealthy obsession with ted nivison.

and by recently i mean every single day.

by this point he's not even a hear me out, he's an EAT ME OUT™.

[ofwings]

Are you single?

do these look like the posting habits of someone experiencing romance

[zweiginator]

https://www.tumblr.com/zweiginator/820352686709997568/httpswwwtumblrcomzweiginator7579795202519531

wait i love these established relationship posts especially thinking about the honeymoon phase where you’re constantly going out on dinner dates and coming back home to endlessly fucking and spending less and less time at your apartment you might as well move in

getting wine drunk on dates and playing footsy under the table. having so much fun but you can’t wait for the check to come so you can go home because he’s been eyeing you since he picked you up. your hands on his belt the second he shuts his front door. sitting on his lap, legs lazily wrapped around his waist as you ride him and he’s hugging you so so close trying not to confess his love so soon …

[freshmoviequotes]

Wake Up Dead Man (2025)

[podcast-official]

my personal headcanon is that jud gets really sleepy when he feels safe around someone and that's why he just immediately falls asleep when blanc is in his room

[dumb-blondeee]

oh i need to write something real quick

[dumb-blondeee]

photo on pinterest

the kind of boyfriend i think about before i fall asleep

[campmiasmas]

CHALLENGERS 2024, dir. Luca Guadagnino

[dumb-blondeee]

mhm yeah that’s what i’m talking about