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delphi-shield · 4 months ago

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— 「 FAKE IT TIL YOU MAKE IT 」

fake dating/christmas party/hurt/comfort ❄️ leon secret santa ❄️ gift for @mydarlingclaudia

MERRY CHRISTMAS MISS CLAUDIA i'm your secret santa! i've wanted to write og4 leon for this blog for a while and when i got you for secret santa i was like IT'S TIME lmao. i hope you enjoy and i hope you have the best christmas!

wc: 5k

summary: leon's in a bind. he thought he would have a love life by christmas, but the holidays have rolled around and he's still single. you'll pretend to be his date for just one night, right?

content: fake dating, real dating, coworkers, christmas parties, mistletoe, lots of late night conversations, lots of self-doubt, secret loser leon, technically post-re4. divider from @/strangergraphics

Over the past year, you've discovered that Leon's really good at pitching a fit when he doesn't want to do something - or, at least, when he thinks he doesn't want to do something. He'll bitch and moan about being tired, about how he just wants to stay in and have a 'chill date' with some old movie. No amount of assuring him that he would have fun once he got there would make him stop dragging his feet. That very night, you’d been waiting for him at the door with arms crossed, already decked out in your Christmas sweater, cheap reindeer antler headband affixed to your head.

Leon lets out a quiet puff of laughter when he slouches into the room, looking considerably less festive than you. He takes in your appearance - your tacky sweater, your headband, the way you pout and tap your foot impatiently. How, exactly, was he supposed to take this seriously?

“What, no one let you play any reindeer games?” Leon quips, taking his sweet time putting his shoes on.

You roll your eyes. When you finally manage to get him out the door, he has a blast. You know it, he knows it - this part is just mandatory torture, a bonding experience he loves to put you through.

"We go, we say hello, we leave." You assure him. “We don’t have to stay long.”

Leon might buy that at this moment, but you know the second you step through the door, you won't be leaving that Christmas party until the very end. Two hours in, you would be ready to go and Leon would be having the time of his life. You would be tugging at his sleeve, checking on him:

Ready to go? No, sorry, hun. Let me finish my beer and we can go.

Like clockwork. You weren't even sure he knew that he did that.

The Christmas music on the radio doesn’t do much to assuage his mood. He’s pouting the whole drive over. As soon as he pulls up to the house, he repeats the same mantra:

"We get in, we say hello, we leave." His hand smacks against the steering wheel to emphasize each point in the plan. You already have your door open, swinging out the side and marching up the freshly shoveled sidewalk.

"The decorations are so cute," you coo, crouching down to examine a particularly adorable light up gingerbread house - and to give him time to catch up.

Leon guides you up from the ground with a hand hovering behind your back. He herds you further down the sidewalk, still eager to get this over with. By the end of the night, you would be the one begging him to leave, but for now, you let him grouchily jam the doorbell.

Warmth floods out to greet you when Claire opens the door, the scent of cider and cinnamon rushing up to usher you in. Claire coos over your outfit, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

"I should have put more effort in," she says, the pom of her Santa hat bouncing against her cheek. She's otherwise under dressed for the occasion, choosing comfort over festivity.

"What? No. Look at this place. You did all the decorations. That's way more effort," you counter, toeing off your shoes and stripping off your heavy coat.

Claire laughs. "I made my brother do most of it."

"Good to see you, too, Claire," Leon says, bristling over being ignored. She waves her hand, half hello, half dismissing him, and guides you further into the house, pointing you to the refreshments and giving a quick tour of the decorations.

Wherever Leon slinks off to, you're unconcerned. You have catching up to do just as much as he does.

Claire pops her hip up against the drink table. You twist the cap off your beer. Claire fishes one up for herself and pops the lid off against the table in one fluid motion. You huff a quick laugh - her party, her rules.

"So," Claire starts, leaning back against her elbows and surveying the crowd. She tracks your eyes for a moment, watches you watching Leon across the room. "I’ve been wondering. How did you guys actually meet?"

"What?" You laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. You take a drink, buy yourself some time to feel out Claire's intention.

"Well, obviously, the first story you told me was a crock of shit," she laughs.

You can't argue with that. The first time you had met Claire, you had been masquerading as Leon’s partner, sparing him the embarrassment of turning up to her Christmas party alone. You hadn’t exactly announced to his friends that your first time meeting them had been a lie.

"I didn't lie," you point out. "Not totally."

"A lie by omission is still a lie."

"We actually did meet at work."

Claire rolls her eyes. She won't put up with this for long. “I mean, I buy that. But he absolutely did not charm you over the comms on some classified mission.”

There’s no part of you that wants to argue in Leon’s defense. He was a nightmare to work with, knew just how to get under your skin, and you were more than happy to have Hunnigan continue to babysit him.

“If you really want to know…”

It was the Wednesday before Christmas Eve when Leon's coiffed head popped up above your cubicle. Never a good sign. Where he went, trouble (and acclaim) followed. You filled in for Hunnigan once when she was out with bronchitis, and now you can't get rid of her puppy. He keeps coming back, a particularly malignant tumor that metastasizes over the walls of your cubicle, spills onto your desk and messes with your letter trays.

“You busy?” His arm slings over the top, hand drumming against the wall of your cubicle.

Stay strong, you think. Try not to move. Play dead. Maybe he'll get bored and move on. You try to type faster and only wind up jamming the keys down harder. Leon drums his hand quicker, rhythm irregular.

“What does it look like?” You bite out.

Mission failed. You weren't trained to resist torture like he was. In fact, you specialized in answering stupid questions and pointing out the obvious. It was a key component of your job.

Leon’s job, apparently, entailed blatantly ignoring hints. He swings into your cubicle, brushes aside a stack of documents to sit on your desk. His forearms balance on his thighs, hands held together between his knees.

“I need a favor.”

It just gets worse. What kind of favor could Special Agent Kennedy possibly want from you, and why did you have a feeling that it was going to be off the books?

"If I'm doing favors, I'm staying clocked in," you drone.

"Not possible for this one," he shrugs. "Sorry. I'll make it up to you."

You roll your eyes. Silence stretches between the two of you, filled only with the intermittent clicks of your mouse as you try to track down the most up to date geospatial information for your assigned agent - you know, the one you're actually supposed to be dealing with.

Leon's both annoying and persistent. He shakes his fringe from his face, stretches out 'so...' into an elongated, cowish sound that sets your teeth on edge. You roll your hand, gesturing for him to continue.

"I need a date," he blurts out. He's smart enough to continue speaking quickly, hand already raised - palm outward, begging for peace. "Not a real date. Just for a couple of hours, for a party. We go, we say hello, we leave."

A beat. You give him time to throw in a ‘just kidding’. God knows you aren’t throwing him a life preserver. When he twiddles his thumbs, content to sink instead of bail himself out, you scoff. You don’t even look up from your computer.

"That is, by far, your worst line."

"I’m serious. Please. Just a couple of hours. That's all I'm asking. You don’t have to talk to me ever again."

Your eyes cut over to him. Not a single smug smirk in sight. You're almost surprised by the pleading hiding behind his eyes. You take it all in, try to assess him for any hint of deceit. You only find the bags under his eyes, darker than you'd seen before.

“Go alone,” you shrug.

“I can’t. I’ve been –” Leon stops. He sits up tall, peers over the top of your cubicle to see who’s around. Meerkat is a good look on him, his nose sharp in profile, brow furrowed and focused. You avert your eyes back to your computer. He lowers his voice, his eyes still flitting around for eavesdroppers. “I’ve… exaggerated the truth about my love life to a few friends. I promised I would introduce them to someone at this party.”

You note the desperation, try to stay impartial. You're good at that part, too. Trained for it. He’s in a bind of his own making. Some humility would do him good. You’d be doing him a favor by making him own up to his lie.

Your gut flips when you consider his proposal. What was this, high school? Why could he possibly need a fake date? It was so immature, you almost couldn't believe it.

Another thought burns at the back of your mind, keeps you wary. You can't help but feel used. What, he was fine pretending to take you out but couldn't conceive of actually asking you to go to his stupid party? It had to be fake, a preservation of his ego. You weren't even a part of this equation.

You should say no. You should leave him high and dry, make him look like an idiot in front of his friends - because that's what he is. An idiot. An idiot who can't get an actual date to save his life.

"Match my salary, then we'll talk."

Leon groans, head flopping back against your cabinets. He’s considering it, you can tell.

What’s the harm in it, you wonder, casting him a sidelong glance. It would be nice to have something to do on Christmas Eve.

"You owe me for this. You're gonna pick me up."

Leon's eyes light up. He hops off your desk, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. You hold up a finger to stop him before he can talk himself out of this.

"And you're gonna buy me dinner."

"There's food at the party."

"Good food?"

"If you don't like it, I'll get you something on the way home."

That's more like it. You spin back to face your computer, pulling your report back up.

"Deal. What's the dress code?"

Leon's silence speaks volumes. He's completely helpless when it comes to the details. You had figured someone with his looks had a social life that was bursting at the seams, that he was taking the fat field agent paycheck and he was hopping from party to party.

It's at his friend's house, he explains. You note the hesitation before he says 'friend'. Maybe it is all a front. Kennedy can't really go home to an empty apartment and a silent phone, can he? Everyone made him sound like such a big shot. You didn't expect the snapshots of your lives to be matching photographs, a wide shot when you held them next to each other. You try to picture his living room and all you can envision is a beige box.

You wring what little information he has out of him with a series of direct, probing questions. You're both comfortable in this routine. The quick, perfunct back and forth, an exchange not unlike one you might have over comms. He scribbles his number onto a sticky note and slides it over to you. You’ll work out the details of your story later, make it bulletproof.

The idea has been ghosting around the crevices of your mind for the entire day. You force yourself to wait a little longer before calling him, give him time to get home and get settled in. Trying to do the same is fruitless. Your appetite has mysteriously vanished, your Wednesday night show not catching your attention. You choke down half a bowl of cereal before you drum up the courage to call him.

"So, how did we meet?" You start, skipping past hello.

"Work."

"Going with the truth on that one?" You toss a piece of popcorn into your mouth, eyes fixed on your show.

"Helps to sprinkle the truth in with the lie, right?"

You can practically hear the grin on his face. You roll your eyes and bite back a sharp response. No need spoiling the mood immediately. You already agreed to do this. You won't make it harder than it needs to be.

"When did you ask me out?"

“Does that seriously matter?”

Of course it matters. Leon’s completely useless at this kind of thing, it turns out. You had expected more. He seemed the type to have experience. Maybe your own naivety had caught up to you. His confidence had you fully convinced that this would be a cake walk.

Was this seriously the guy who had single-handedly rescued the president’s daughter a few months back? Because he was floundering when you asked him if he had met your parents yet.

“Do you want me to meet them?”

“Oh my god,” you laugh, “No. They would eat you alive.”

That one stays in the story. It’s too believable not to. You bet Leon makes a real fool of himself in front of parents.

That’s where you went wrong. As soon as you started to rationalize what a relationship with him might look like, to add that touch of realism that would sell this story, you were fucked. He indulges all your questions and your musings.

Thursday night, you call him to ask what shows you watch together. He doesn’t see the point, doesn’t get that TV is such an important, ritualistic component of a relationship - or, at least, one that you want. He lets you pick, snorting in surprise when you name a dating show on VH1. You assign him homework. Watch the newest episode the Sunday before the party, and you’d fill him in on the details on the ride to the party.

Friday, you ask him what pet names he wants to use. He flounders again, acting dismissive in a way that you’ve now identified as embarrassment. You bite back the urge to tease him and offer up some suggestions instead.

“‘Babe’ is fine, I guess,” he says, “but I’m probably just going to call you by your name.”

When you hang up that night, you wonder if he meant it. Babe fits your perception of him from a week ago, but now you aren’t so sure. You turn the question over and over in your head for the next day, trying out different names in his voice. Something simple and classic, maybe. ‘Honey’, or ‘sweetie’.

The question is still turning in your mind when he calls you on Saturday. You don’t have a chance to get your question out. He blindsides you with his own.

“Have we said ‘I love you’ yet?”

Your mind races to catch up. Had he? No way. He mumbled when he got off the phone sometime, but there was no way that was an ‘I love you’. There was no way. It hadn’t even been a full week yet.

Then it clicks for you. Right. This is fake, all of it. Every phone call was for his benefit. You had initiated all of this. You should be happy that he’s finally contributing to the planning. You feel sick to your stomach instead.

“I don’t care,” you say, entirely nonchalant, none of it forced. The silence hangs over the line. You pray for Leon to let it go, to give you the grace that you haven’t given him.

He’s smooth with it - doesn’t point out the strain in your voice, blames it on a bad connection. For once, he takes the reins. No ‘I love you’ yet. He’s working up the courage, he says, and your heart clenches, breath catches, head spins.

You make an excuse to leave early. He reminds you to tune in for your show tomorrow. You hang up without saying goodbye.

He picks you up just like he promised. As much as you’d wanted to wear the silly, light-up Christmas sweater at the back of your closet, you couldn’t. You couldn’t show up as his date looking like that. No one would buy it. You already look out of place on his arm.

You’d expected the car ride to be awkward. The last time you’d seen him in person had been when you struck this whole deal. Instead of rehashing your story, though, Leon asks you question after question about the dating show you told him to watch.

To your surprise, he’d actually watched it. You go over the contestants, the washed up rock star they were all attempting to date, even recap the most notable drama. He’s hooked. The veneer of disinterest he tries to keep up is so thin it’s see through. You almost want to tell him to turn the car around so you can catch the reruns instead of suffering through this party.

You don't know what kind of party you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. Every corner of the place was saturated in Christmas, inside and out. Garlands of popcorn and dried orange slices, a tree decorated so heavily with strands of lights and garish ornaments that it's branches sagged. The warm lights bathed everything in a smooth glow. The chill that had stung your face on the walk in melted away, leaving only the pulsing afterburn across your cheeks.

Plenty of people had already arrived - thank god. If you'd had to make awkward small talk with the host until people arrived to take the heat off of you, you might have just said fuck it and marched back to the car. You keep a firm grip on Leon's arm, eyes flitting across each and every face. You didn't recognize a single one of these people.

That's precisely why Leon chose you. It makes your stomach lurch to think about. You're convenient. A face to put to a title, to apply to the vague stories that Leon has fabricated. Anyone could be on his arm right now, and it wouldn't make a difference. No one would know.

You stay glued to his side for the first hour. It works well enough, a handful of people overjoyed to meet you after all the stories that Leon’s told. You do your best to keep the sparkle in your eye, to look at him like he makes the sun shine. It’s hard when it feels like the floor could open up and swallow you at any given moment, when each affectionate touch is just a tool.

You excuse yourself for a drink. That will help your nerves. It can’t make them any worse, that’s for sure. You have a clear window, the drink table empty. In and out, then back to Leon’s side.

Fishing up a beer from the ice chest, you scavenge around for a bottle opener. Christ - all these preparations and no bottle opener? You’re tunnel-visioned into your search, don’t even notice the woman joining you at the table

“Want some help with that?” A redhead chirps, sidling up to you. She holds her hand out for your drink.

What’s the harm? You pass it over with a ‘thanks’ that quickly turns to a sharp inhale. She pops the lid off the beer with the edge of the table, tears a jagged crescent through the plastic tablecloth - cut one of Santa’s reindeer clean in two.

“My party, my rules,” she laughs. “I’m Claire. You’re with Leon, right?”

Your stomach drops. You can practically peer down at yourself, your soul leaving your body for a brief moment. Shit– Leon had warned you about her. Said she wasn't malicious, per se, but she could sniff out bullshit quicker than most. You run the facts back in your mind. If you could get past her, you'd be golden.

Claire's finger bounces between you and Leon. She leans her hip against the table, folds her arms across her chest.

“I don't get that at all,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head. “What's the story?”

Holy shit, that was quicker than you expected. Stay cool. Remember your lines.

“We actually met at work,” you start. Easy enough. It’s not even a lie. You unravel the rest of the details for her one by one, plodding through the steps of your imagined romance with deliberate care.

Claire’s eyes stayed fixed on you. She smiles and laughs where appropriate, but she tracks you with the cold eyes of a wolf on the hunt. A chill pulses down your spine. Is it really so hard to believe that you’re with Leon? Do you look so out of place?

“Good for him,” she finally says. She takes a long drink, still watching you.

“He’s great.”

“He’s okay.”

Maybe she meant it as a joke, but you have to force your laugh out from around the lump in your throat. Did she buy it? You can’t tell. She claps you on the shoulder, harder than you expected.

“It was really great to meet you,” Claire says. She slips back into the crowd with a smile, flowing naturally into a group of guests. Your eyes linger on her, but she doesn’t look back. She doesn’t slip into hushed whispers, no one turns to stare in your direction.

You wind back through the crowd, glue yourself back to Leon’s side. He lifts his arm instinctively, curls it around your hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He doesn’t even pause his conversation.

How is this the same clueless man that you had spent half a week planning out every minute detail of your imagined relationship? How can he be so relaxed and in control now?

That’s the difference between the two of you, you realize. There was planning, and there was doing. Clearly, Leon could see his commitments through. You were botching this. Everyone knew you were a fake. They had to.

“You okay?” Leon asks, head inclined closer to your ear. You swallow thickly, force a smile.

“Are you about ready to go?” You ask, keeping your voice low.

He’s not - you can tell - but he tosses his snack plate in the trash and says a round of goodbyes anyway, urging you out the door.

The car is silent. Leon flips through radio stations, never staying on one for long. Christmas music, rock ballad, regular ballad, Christmas music again - repeat. He fidgets with the vents, turns the heat up, then down, one degree at a time.

"Seriously, you good?" he asks.You keep your face turned to the window, watching the decorations roll by.

Leon glances at you - or that's what he thinks, at least. His eyes linger for too long. He corrects his course sharply, swerving away from the curb at the last possible moment.

"Yeah. Fine."

Neither of you believe that. You’ve spent the whole night lying - he knows what it looks like, and he lets you get away with it.

Leon turns the music up a tick. You spend the rest of the drive in silence. He pulls up in front of your place and cuts the engine, and that has to be the record for world’s most awkward drive.

Bundling your things in your arms, you hurry out of his car with a quick ‘thanks for inviting me’ that feels misplaced given the circumstances - but what the hell else were you going to say? You needed to sleep this whole thing off.

"Hey."

You stop in your tracks. You're almost positive you've left a drag tail in the snow, stopped so fast you nearly slipped on the sidewalk. Leon's window is rolled down, his body nearly halfway out of it.

"I appreciate what you did for me tonight," he says.

Your heart deflates, a balloon released in your chest, bouncing off your ribs and drumming against your lungs before it floats pitifully to a rest in the pit of your stomach.

"No problem," you say, shoulders back, head held high. "To be honest, I didn't think anyone would buy it."

His head tips to the side. His eyes narrow, studying you, trying to figure out your meaning.

"Why? You did great."

"I don't know. I didn't think we would look like a very believable couple."

He sticks his head back into his car, fumbles with his seatbelt overlong, and finally pops the door open. His feet find traction on the icy sidewalk much easier than yours. You chalk it up to his boots, his training, anything to keep your mind on the little details instead of the big picture.

“I thought it was pretty believable.”

Don’t read into it, you tell yourself again and again. It’s just going to hurt if you try to interpret greater meaning from that.

“Yeah? Glad I could help.” You hook your thumb over your shoulder, fishing clumsily for your keys. “Guess I’ll see you at work, then.”

Leon’s eyes cut back to your door. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, balanced perfectly on the ice. For a moment, you think you see his hand twitch towards yours. You linger, waiting for the touch of his hand around your wrist, willing the warmth that you imagine to be real.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and nods.

“Yeah. See you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Claire interjects. “He didn’t even ask you out that night? He walked you to the door and bailed?”

You shake your head. “I asked him out like a week later. We were working late on New Years. He said he knew a great spot for coffee if I wanted to go on break. I said we could only go on our day off.”

Her eyes sharpen, casting her hunt out into the crowd of party-goers. You find Leon first - hunched over a snack platter across the room, contributing minimally to conversation with some people from Claire’s work. Claire, experienced hunter that she is, tracks your sight to find her quarry.

“He is so stupid. So dumb. Look at you,” she declares, waving you up and down - presenting you. “He made you ask? Ooh, I’m gonna – Leon!”

Leon’s head pops up from the cheese tray - meerkat chic, swiveling in the direction of the woman on the hunt. Claire points to the ground in front of her sharply, doesn’t even have to bark out ‘c’mere’ before his training kicks in and he’s marching himself over.

“What’s up?” He pops a palmful of cashews into his mouth, then slides the same hand against the small of your back.

His casual attitude earns him no favors. Claire thwacks his shoulder, berates him for making you ask first. He shrinks away - play dead. You taught him that one.

“You ready to go?” You ask once Claire’s done ragdolling him and marches off to tell the others how spineless Leon is.

Leon surveys the party - that’s what you think he’s doing, at least. His gaze is focused higher, examining the doorways carefully. His eyes sharpen, lock on their target. He nods, his thumb rubbing gentle arcs against your back.

“Yeah. Let’s head out. Wait for me in the hall, okay? I’ll get our stuff.”

You follow his directions thoughtlessly, planting yourself in the hallway he had pointed to. Leon flits about, saying goodbyes as he weaves through the crowd. Your coat is slung over his arm when he winds his way back to you.

Before you can protest, tell him he forgot your bag and your scarf, he smacks a hand dramatically against his forehead. He holds up a finger - hang on, here, take this, I’ll be right back – kisses your forehead, and floats back into the crowd.

He comes out only holding your scarf. You huff. Leon’s not a forgetful man. This is clearly on purpose, for his own entertainment. He loops your scarf around your necks for you, settling it into place and tying a clumsy knot.

“Your bag. I forgot, I’m sorry.” He kisses your cheek as he turns.

There was a twinkle in his eye when he turned. You’d caught it. It wasn’t just the shine of the lights. He was up to something. You scan your surroundings, look for cameras hidden, for guests watching a little too intently. Nothing immediately jumps out at you. You glance up - and there’s the culprit. A little branch bound with twine, berries dotting the little branches, suspended over the doorway.

Schooling your face back into mild annoyance, you go so far as to tap your foot. If he wants to put on a show, so will you.

“Here you go,” he says, handing over your bag. You wait for his next move. No way this was the end of his plan - and you’re right. As soon as your bag is slung over your shoulder, he’s patting himself down. Front left, front right, back pockets at the same time, chest at the same time. “Shit. My keys. One second–”

You kiss his cheek before he can strike first.

“On the key rack,” you point out, hooking your thumb over your shoulder. “It’s bad karma to abuse the mistletoe, you know.”

Leon huffs. He spares the mistletoe above your heads a glance.

“You made that up.”

Absolutely, you did. He crosses through the doorway and snags his keys. Before you can head out the door, he dangles them over his head. You roll your eyes and kiss him square on the lips before he can justify his poor man’s mistletoe.

You’ll risk bad karma for a kiss.

#leonsecretsanta2024 #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon s. kennedy x reader #resident evil fluff #x reader #merry christmas hehe #sorry i made the banner as a joke initially and then it didnt look right without it lmaooo

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travelingthief · 1 year ago

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Dionysus Offerings/Devotional Acts

There'll be NSFW themes as he is the god of wine and ecstasy!

Offerings

Wine/Intoxication

Alcohol, specifically wine

Grapes

Wine corks

Wine glasses

Shot glasses

Goblets

Corkscrews

Sparkling cider

Grape flavored things

Cheese

Weed/hallucenigens

Nips (small alcohol bottles)

Bottle opener

Beer/soda tabs

Alcohol bottles with cool labels

Fruit/fruit seeds

Theater/Plays

Play/theater scripts

Play/movie tickets

Masks

Costumes

Nature

Pine cones

Fennel

Wildflowers

Fig/fig newtons

Ivy

Leopard/cheetah print

Honey

Bull imagery

Donkey imagery

Bones

Antlers

Dead/preserved animals

Hiking gear

Seeds

Dolphins

Depictions of big cats

Wheat

Barley

Ecstasy

Concert/festival tickets

Various drugs (use safely!)

Sex toys

Your favorite music

Misc.

Locks of hair

Shaven beard hair

Pride swag

Extravagant clothes/clothes that make you feel good

Devotional Acts

Wine/Intoxication

Drink alcohol/get drunk

Go to a wine tasting

Make wine

Eat grapes

Trip intentionally/spiritually

Learn about substance abuse/recovery

Destigamtize drug users

Learn about harm reduction

Use drugs safely

Theater

Attend a play

Write a play/film/musical

Make home videos

Write poetry

Act

Dress up

Go to the movie theater

Nature

Go to the woods

Dance/sing in the woods

Meditate in the woods

Learn wilderness safety and first aid

Learn what to do when encountering a wild animal

Go off the beaten path

Explore new areas

Pick up litter

Forage

Recycle bottles

Grow fruit

Try new fruits

Ecstasy

Attend concerts/festivals

Attend/throw parties/celebrations

Have sex

Masturbate

Have threesomes/swing/whatever you’re in to

Finally give into that one kink you’ve been repressing (you know the one)

Do drugs (responsibly)

Learn about consent/establish boundaries with partners

Death/Rebirth

Dionysus is a god of rebirth and resurrection. This association comes from his birth stories and has resulted in epithets like “twice-born.”

Learn how to preserve dead animals

Learn about different life cycles (plants, animals, etc)

Learn about your ancestry

Foreigners

Dionysus is also seen as a foreign god with unknown origins. He also traveled through and invaded India.

Learn about immigration in your area

Learn about different cultures

Try foreign foods

Learn a new language

Learn about your ancestry

Help immigrants in your area

Misc.

Grow your hair out

Manifest/Keep a manifestation journal. Sexual/creative energy is linked and can be used to manifest

Shed your old self

Self-reflection/self-exploration

Identify areas where you may overindulge (food, substances, spending, etc.)

#dionysus worship #dionysus #helpol #greek gods #paganism #hellenic polytheism #bacchus #witchblr #dionysus offerings #offerings #wine

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 8 months ago

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hey mouse, hope you're doing well. Since it's almost fall and Spooky Season I had an idea. What would a fall date with the bachelors look like?

I'm fine, thanks for asking, dear anon! ☺️

It's finally fall, and although I still have the summer heat now (damn 🥲), the autumn-themed headcanons give me comfort and realization that the colder weather will soon arrive.

Anyway, enjoy! 💕

_________________________________________

SDV bachelors and their ideas of Fall date with Farmer:

Autumn is the season for spooky films to start rolling, dedicated to the upcoming Spirits Eve, so of course Sebastian will ask Farmer out on a date to the cinema. And the cinema is also an option if Farmer doesn't like the horror genre. Autumn is also the season of frequent rains in the Valley, so one of the unusual ideas of interesting pastime of this couple will be sitting in the cave of Mines on the ground floor. Relaxing and chatting about anything, listening to the falling raindrops through the entrance... If Farmer likes to walk in the rain, then Sebby is all for it (with umbrellas of course), and they both can look for frogs in the pond before it gets too cold.

It's definitely the season of fragrant honey fungus and chanterelles in the woods, and the bushes are downright teeming with ripe blackberries, so one of Harvey's date ideas is a mushroom/berry hunt! Both a nice time in the beautiful woods, and a full basket of delicious nature gifts that are sure to brighten up a romantic dinner later. If the weather outside is too cold and unpleasant, the doctor and his partner will arrange a date at home, over a hot cup of tea/coffee, a marathon of films, the pleasant warmth of the fireplace and the sounds of rain outside the window. And cuddles, of course. Warm and cosy!

Considering how beautiful the Cindersap Forest becomes in autumn, Elliott is sure to invite his dear Farmer on one of the walks there. The trees are coloured in various shades of gold, red and orange, the crisp fallen leaves underfoot, and a pleasant companion... Ah, what a lovely date, and Farmer is also delighted! And if they are both too lazy to walk, the writer will come up with a wonderful idea for a picnic: a bottle of wine, tasty appetizers, the sounds of the forest and sunny weather, etc. Also parts of the date would be all sorts of mini-events in the Valley, like community pumpkin picking or ripe wild apples.

In addition to the Stardew Valley fair, neighbouring towns and Zuzu City have folk festivals celebrating autumn, with big tents and attractions. Shane felt that attending such a festival as a date with Farmer would be a good option. And he's right! Big tents with different kinds of beer and cider (he drinks in moderation, don't be afraid), the smell of delicious comfort food, fun contests, songs and dances. Chicken man and his partner had a blast! And after such trips, Shane can offer dates without leaving the house, as let's say joint preparation of caramel apples. Also not a bad pastime at home will be horror games, with a soft blankets and autumnal goodies.

Hiking with Sam! Oh, he's been waiting for a long time for the summer heat to end and cooler weather to arrive. Generally speaking, this date idea is appropriate in almost any season, but Sammy thinks it's much cooler amongst the autumn beauty. The lovely couple will make a bonfire in the forest or mountainous area, and while Farmer will roast marshmallows, Sam will pick up a guitar and the forest will be filled with beautiful music, creating pleasant memories. In addition to looking at the beautiful things, he and Farmer will have a photo shoot, filling their album with pictures of their autumn adventures.

It may not be easy for Alex to find his way out of the corn maze, but he and Farmer came here to have a good time, not to win. They still came out first, though, and got some nice prizes, making the date ending even better. The athlete will also invite Farmer to a haunted house at a carnival in one of the towns. And no, he wasn't the one who shrieked like a little girl when someone's hand touched his shoulder ("Come on, Farmer, don't laugh!"). Scary and creepy places, ooooh! But Farmer and Alex had a great time, so the date was a success!

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv alex #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv sam #sdv headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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hearthandheathenry · 7 months ago

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All About Mabon

Mabon is the name given to the pagan and Wiccan holiday that is celebrated on the autumn equinox. This year, it falls on September 22nd in the northern hemisphere. Although celebrations have been happening on the autumn equinox for centuries, Mabon as we know it today is a holiday coined and created around the 70s by new-age paganism and Wicca, named after the Welsh God. Although it doesn't have ancient roots, it does take inspiration from other autumn harvest festivals and participants have created beautiful ways to celebrate the neo-pagan holiday.

Just like other autumn equinox festivals, the main theme of Mabon seems to be one of transitioning seasons and giving thanks to the harvest and honoring nature. Many people consider it the pagan version of "Thanksgiving" as both holidays share many of the same symbolism and draw from seasonal items. Cornucopias play a big part in the symbolism of Mabon, representing a bountiful harvest, along with apples as well. Many people gather, feast, and spend time preparing for the long winter ahead as the days now grow shorter. Balance and scales also play a big role in celebrations due to the equinox, making it a great time to reflect on the give and take of life.

There doesn't seem to be one set way to celebrate Mabon due to its recent nature, so participants are encouraged to simply lean on the underlying themes of the holiday and celebrate in the ways that speak to them as they enjoy the universal shift in seasons.

Mabon Associations:

Colors - red, orange, brown, yellow, gold

Food - apples, squash, bread, corn, grains, root vegetables, grapes, nuts, pomegranates, wine, beer, cider, cinnamon

Animals - farm animals

Items - cornucopias, corn stalks, harvest tools, scales, acorns, autumn leaves

Crystals - amber, citrine, jasper, obsidian

Other - balance, change, thankfulness, reflection, letting go

Ways to celebrate:

have a feast

gather with loved ones and give thanks

write a list of everything you're grateful for

have a bonfire

decorate your home with Mabon and Autumn symbolism

harvest food from your garden

visit a farmers market

bake bread or pie

cook autumn themed food

write down goals for the coming season

create a Mabon altar

donate your time or money to those in need

go apple picking

cleanse and ward your home

stock up on food for winter

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 5 months ago

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Country Christmas

pairing: zach top x f! reader

The barn glowed with warm golden light, festive garlands strung along the rafters, and the hum of holiday cheer filled the space. It was Christmas Eve, and the annual town party had everyone in high spirits. Snow blanketed the world outside, but inside, it was all music, laughter, and the rich smell of cider and cinnamon.

Zach Top leaned casually against the bar, a beer in hand. His gaze wandered over the room, taking in the crowd of familiar faces until it landed on her.

She was standing by the dessert table, wearing a fitted sweater and jeans that hugged her figure just right. Her hair caught the light, gleaming with hints of warmth, and when she laughed, it was soft but captivating, like it didn’t belong to the chaos of the barn but rather to a more intimate, quieter moment.

Zach tipped his hat slightly, his lips curving into a small smile. But when her sharp gaze cut through the room and locked onto him, she didn’t react the way most women did. No flustered smile, no glance away. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, smirked, and turned back to her friend, completely unfazed.

That smirk, that little flash of defiance, hooked him instantly.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, taking a long sip of his beer.

Normally, he was quick to approach someone who caught his eye a tip of his hat, a smooth line, and he’d have them laughing in minutes. But something about her held him back. She wasn’t the type to swoon over a cowboy with a guitar. She had sharp edges, and he liked the challenge they promised.

He stayed put, stealing glances at her every chance he got, watching as she laughed, gestured animatedly, and sipped her cider. He caught himself smiling more than once, though he’d never admit it out loud.

“C’mon, cowboy,” one of his buddies teased, nudging him as they passed by. “You’ve been staring at her all night. Gonna talk to her, or are you writing a song about her in your head?”

“Maybe both,” Zach replied with a chuckle, but inside, his nerves buzzed like the first time he ever stepped on stage.

Finally, after finishing his beer and talking himself into it, he squared his shoulders, adjusted his hat, and made his way across the room. She was mid laugh again, her head tipped back slightly, when he stopped a few feet away.

“Is this where all the sass comes from?” he asked, nodding toward the cider in her hand.

She turned to him, her smirk already forming. “And here I thought you’d just keep staring all night. Took you long enough, cowboy.”

“Didn’t want to rush it,” he said smoothly, tipping his hat. “Some things are worth waiting for.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving as if she was sizing him up. “Is that one of your lyrics, or do you save the corny lines for parties?”

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

She tilted her head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm. Tempting. But if you’re going to interrupt my quest for dessert, you’d better make it worth my while.”

“Well,” he said, glancing toward the table, “how about we make a deal? You let me steal a dance later, and I’ll split the last slice of pecan pie with you.”

Her smirk deepened, her eyes sparkling. “Bold of you to assume I’d share.”

He laughed, his confidence growing. “Fair enough. But if I can’t have the pie, I’ll settle for your name.”

She held his gaze, letting the moment linger before finally saying, “Y/N.”

“Zach,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly. “And just so you know, I’ve been working up the nerve to talk to you all night.”

“Really?” she teased. “You don’t strike me as the shy type.”

“I’m not,” he admitted, a grin tugging at his lips. “But you’re not like anyone else here, and I didn’t want to mess this up.”

Her breath hitched slightly at the sincerity in his voice, but she recovered quickly. “Well, now that you’ve got my attention, what’s the plan?”

“Dance with me,” he said, offering his hand.

She hesitated for a split second before sliding her hand into his. His grip was warm and firm, and when he led her to the dance floor, the barn seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them swaying to the soft strum of a guitar.

The air between them shifted, the teasing banter giving way to something quieter, more intense. His hand rested lightly on her waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of her sweater. She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes searching his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

When he leaned in, it wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It was deliberate, like he’d been waiting for this all night. Their lips met in a slow, heated kiss, his hand sliding up to cradle her jaw as she pressed closer.

When they finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her breath warm against his. “So,” she said, her voice soft but still laced with sass, “do you kiss all the girls who insult your hat tips?”

“Only the ones who steal my pie,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers again.

She laughed, shaking her head as he pulled her closer. “You’re lucky you’re charming, Zach.”

“And you’re lucky I’m not giving up that easy,” he replied, his grin wide and unrepentant.

Christmas Eve had never felt so magical.

should i make part 2?

#zach top #country singer x reader #zach top x reader

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alex51324 · 8 months ago

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Hamburger Festival Report!

There's a pretty standard template for American town festivals: You block off a few streets (unless there's a park or something that makes sense to use instead), and rent spaces for people/organizations/businesses to set up booths. There'll be a stage or two with free entertainment--usually musicians, but there can be dance troupes, magicians, etc. in the mix. There may be some activities or contests tied into the festival theme, but the main events are a) eating, and b) wandering around looking at booths.

Sometimes this type of festival will have a carnival or midway attached to it, with rides and games, but these are not a required element of the standard American town festival. This one had a rock-climbing wall and a mechanical bull, interspersed with the typical booths, but that's it.

These festivals do not have to have a theme--where I grew up, it was just the TownName Street Fair--but a lot of them do. Food is the most common type of theme: you get Apple Festivals, Seafood Festivals, Tomato Festivals, Maple Syrup Festivals, all sorts. Something to do with local history and heritage is also common, like Old Time TownName Days. The amount of emphasis placed on the theme varies.

Since hamburgers are already a typical food to sell at festivals, they were very heavily represented at Hamburger Festival! The festival guide listed over forty different hamburger stands. I went around and took pictures of the menus for the ones that looked good, before deciding what to buy.

@griseldagimpel I think these two are probably the most innovative ones I saw!

There were some professional food trucks:

That second one had some interesting-looking options, too.

Here's another menu with some interesting options; this was one of a handful of stands offering a vegetarian burger option. (That Elvis one looks pretty innovative, too.)

There were a few stands offering the hamburger-with-a-crabcake-on-top, which sounded interesting, too.

Or if you just want a classic hamburger at a reasonable price, you could go with the stand run by the Boy Scouts:

Their burgers started at $5, and smelled pretty good!

Alcohol availability at town festivals varies regionally; in some parts of the US, it's considered inappropriate for alcohol (even beer) to be sold or consumed at events attended by families with children. Pennsylvania (where I live, and where Hamburg, PA is) used to be one of these, but our alcohol laws have been relaxing quite a bit over the last 10-15 years or so. As a result, Hamburger Festival does have beer and wine vendors.

However, they are limited to a fenced-off portion of the festival area, and if you buy a cup of beer you have to stay inside the fence to drink it. (Some of the vendors also offered discreetly-packaged bottles and cans to take home, but you are not allowed to open them on the premises.)

Of course, all of the food vendors are outside of the fence, so if you want to have a beer and a hamburger simultaneously, you have to buy the burger first, and take it into the Designated Beer Area.

This I did; I went with the Brie and Apricot Jam one, and a cranberry-ginger hard cider. (My other top choice for the burger was the Heavenly Hog one, with the apple slaw.) Both were excellent!

Band playing in the Beer Area:

They also wisely placed the Great PortaPotty Cluster adjacent to the Beer Area:

Back outside of the Sin Zone, vendors include classic fair food:

And church bake sales:

Nonfood vendors include crafters/artisans, like this metalworker:

The Starship Enterprise was like $500, so I didn't buy it.

There are also crafters selling items with, uh, lower production values, and lower price points. There were a couple of booths selling 3-D printed fidget toys. I considered this polar bear, because it almost looks like Autism Creature:

But in the end I went with something else, which I will share a little later.

They also this, a version of the betta-in-a-cup that won't make @kaxen mad:

Pictured: The only kind of fish you should keep in such a tiny container!

Also represented were various kinds of MLM schlock:

Like this CutCo Knives stand; there was also a Pampered Chef one, several of the jewelry ones, and the one that does dip mixes and stuff; it isn't Taste of Home (that's a magazine), but it's something like that.

I did buy some seasoning mixes, but I got them from this decidedly more amateurish-looking (and cheaper) place, which also sold soap.

Another performance space; this one had a bluegrass trio that was actually pretty good.

Here a child had a stand selling 3D printed gizmos:

Where I obtained this treasure:

Her mother, it developed, had been highly skeptical that anyone would want to buy these, but I assured her that it was brilliant, and my favorite purchase of the day.

I also got take-home cider, the aforementioned spices and soap, some tea, and alpaca-fiber insoles. (My feet were sore, by that point.)

Another interesting thing, which I did not take any pictures of, is the evidence of widely-varying attitudes toward the festival, by the people who actually live on the streets where it takes place. The people behind the stand where I bought my brie-and-apricot burger had festooned their knee-high garden wall with wire and signs saying DO NOT SIT ON WALL, because, I guess, that harms them in some way, if someone does that. Other residents were having porch-parties to watch the festival, or were manning coolers of sodas and bottled water, usually for a dollar apiece (with this competition, most of the official vendors were also selling water and sodas for a dollar, but I bought from one of the porches anyway).

Anyway, to sum up, it was kind of neat; I don't necessarily have a burning desire to go again (although I would like to try that burger with the apple slaw), but I'd also be willing to go again. I spent way too much money on crap, but it's no fun going to something like that and not buying stuff.

#hamburger festival

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koshkamartell · 2 years ago

Text

No One But Me

masterlist

next chapter

Almost everyone in the Jackson community were in attendance at the barn dance tonight. Children of all ages were playing and running around the town hall and the streets of Jackson, the crisp autumn air filled with their laughter and the sound of country music playing. The adults danced in pairs on the hardwood floor space of the town hall as a small group of community members with different musical instruments played country tunes. Others stood around the floor drinking cider and beer and talking about the upcoming harvest, how mild the weather had been lately, and how Jackson needed more reasons to celebrate like this more often. It was 8pm and the festive spirit of the night had just begun.

You sat at one of the round tables dotted around the town hall with a glass of punch in your hand, your eyes following the couples gliding around the dance floor. The men and women looked so cheerful as they moved in sync to the music, their actions appearing automatic and effortless, the joy in their smiles and laughs undeniably infectious to the other town folk who were watching from the sidelines. Most of them were married couples but some of them were domestic partners, ranging in age from late teenagers right up to the most senior members of the community.

The courtship and reproductive aspects of the circle of life were crucial points of interest for many people in Jackson. Despite the hardships of the reality of the end of the world, life within the walls of the Jackson commune were quite simple; everyone was assigned jobs to ensure the town functioned successfully, people dated and married and had children, and everyone had a role to fulfil regardless of their skill level. As a young woman, your own dreams and hopes for the future were quite traditional; you wanted a life partner who would compliment you perfectly, someone to have children with and grow old with. Your desires were modelled on your own parents relationship and deep down in your heart, losing them at 12 years of age left you with a fear of abandonment and the need for the security of a family of your own. The yearning for this had grown vehemently recently, perhaps punctuated by some of the milestones achieved within your friendship circle - an engagement, a wedding, a new baby.

Your smile, small and sad, curls against the lip of the glass as you take a sip of punch. You had been asked to dance a few times and you enjoyed the company of your girlfriends, but there was only one person you wanted to dance with, and he was never going to indulge you in that desire.

He wasn't at the dance tonight. He hated going to events like the barn dances. He hated socialising any more than he had to, evident in the way he carried himself during day to day life living in Jackson; stalking wordlessly to and from his patrolling shifts and eating times at the mess hall, a scowl permanently etched on his face. Joel Miller arrived in Jackson several years ago and had never made any close friends or spoke much to anyone. His brother Tommy and his daughter, Ellie, seemed to be the only people who knew Joel well. You did, too, although you knew a different Joel to the one anyone else did. And you knew Joel wouldn't be at the dance tonight, nor would he be overly happy that you were there.

Noting the time on the large clock perched on the hall wall, you finished the rest of your punch and stood up to leave the dance. It really was so much fun to chat with other towns people and so entertaining to watch the others dance, but Joel would be waiting for you. Mumbling apologies and half hearted excuses of feeling tired to your friends, you slipped out of the town hall and trekked to Joel's house under the cloak of the night sky, making sure to avoid the main street and weave through the back yards lest someone see you.

When you approached the side door of his house, your heart was thumping with anticipation in your chest, just as it always did when you met up with him in the clandestine meetings that had been happening now for the past 8 months. It was a secret and always had been. You did not want it to be, though - your feelings for him ran deep in your heart and soul, and truthfully you had been in love with him for since the first night you stumbled into his home and and allowed him to devour you. You never voiced these feelings because you knew Joel never wanted a relationship, never wanted anything official, although your affection for him was clear. Clear in the way you cuddled up to him after sex, how you baked muffins and banana bread for he and Ellie, how you buried your face in his chest after he returned from a rough patrol shift, the mesmerised, pained look in your eyes when he pounded into you.

You wore your heart on your sleeve and Joel did not acknowledge it, somehow ignoring the depth of your affection with mumbles and pats on the head and gruff cuddles. Your heart was constantly on the verge of breaking, but you couldn't help being tied to him, your body and brain both addicted to him in the alluring and unexplainable haze of chemical, animalistic attraction, the innate need to be protected and fucked and owned by an older, domineering man. If only you could've chosen one more kinder than Joel Miller.

Just a few days earlier you had made the decision that tonight would be the night you confess your feelings to him. Tonight would be when you laid all your cards on the table and ask Joel to be with you, officially. Doing your best to swallow the anxiety rising in your chest, you stood infront of his door and paused for a minute to take some deep breaths, then you rapped on his door lightly. You only waited a few moments before he cracked it open for you to slip inside. You shut the door behind you and followed him into the living room, the space dark except for the glow of dull light emanating from a lamp beside his armchair, a glass of whiskey sitting on-top of a small table beside it. You stood in the middle of the living room and waited for Joel to face you, your hands clasped infront of you shyly, secretly hoping he would compliment your dress and the flower tied in your hair.

Joel picked up his glass and took a shot of the whiskey, placed it back down and then turned to look at you. He was in his usual attire of jeans and a flannel shirt, and from the small distance between you, you could already smell the faint scent of mahogany and sandalwood mixed with his natural smell. The curls of his dark salt and pepper hair sat atop his head like a crown, the expression on his tanned face not betraying any hint of emotion, the steady gaze of dark brown eyes travelling up and down your body making you shiver.

"Hi," you smiled at him.

Joel's eyes met yours and he took a few steps forward to close the gap between you, his figure towering over you. You bit your lip as you studied his handsome face, admiring the patchy growth of his beard and the masculine square of his jaw. He really was so handsome.

"Hey, babydoll," Joel murmured in his Texan drawl, a smirk forming on his lips as his large hands reached out to grab ahold of your hips. They moved up your waist and back down again as he stared into your eyes, the spark of lust already evident in his orbs.

"I went to the dance," you said quietly, your arms moved upward to wrap around his neck.

He hummed in response and you felt his hands trail up to your breasts, the callouses on his palms rough against the lace trimming of your dress. They settled on the plush of your cleavage and began kneading there, making you moan lowly. Joel leaned down and kissed your lips softly for a moment, the taste of whiskey and an underlying sweetness meeting your tongue as his slipped into your mouth. You stood on your tiptoes and tightened your hold around his neck, encouraging the kiss to deepen. One of Joel's hands shifted around to your back and down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and pulling you closer to his body. You could feel his hardness against you.

"Joel," you gasped as you pulled away from the kiss. "I missed you."

Joel didn't respond, instead he just roughly pulled one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder, grabbing your bare breast in his big hand and groaning at the softness of your skin. His other hand kept a firm hold of your ass cheek, his grip leaving you without any strength to move.

"I...I missed you there, at the dance." You moaned as he bent down to kiss your neck, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access.

You ran your fingers through his hair and let yourself be enveloped in his arms, your body surrendering to the familiar dance of seduction that Joel would tangle you in, close to feeling totally helpless to the carnal rapture of attraction between you both. When he still remained silent, his mouth working gentle bites all over your neck, you tried to engage him again.

"Joel, I said I missed you."

"Missed you too, sugar," Joel mumbled against your throat.

He began to carefully move backwards toward the armchair, his hands still gripping your breast and ass possessively, shifting you with him. He sat down on the chair with an unceremonious thud that pulled you onto his lap to straddle him, making you squeak in surprise. Joel pushed you down to grind his erection against your crotch, his mouth still attached to your neck but now sucking on your delicate skin. You found yourself rocking against him, your fingers still tangled in his curls, now faintly aware of the wetness beginning to pool in your underwear. The skirt of your dress had bunched up to your thighs and had made it easy for Joel's hand to slip under the material and find the bare flesh of your ass. He squeezed it before giving it a firm smack.

"Joel," you whimpered. "Please stop for a moment."

He detached from your neck and leaned back in the chair so you could see the drunk look of lust hooding his brown eyes. You wanted to initiate the discussion before becoming entwined in his web, before you were too distracted by his skilled fingers and warm mouth and the deliciousness of his cock. It was so difficult to shift your focus from just how handsome he looked, but you had to do this now. You couldn't wait any longer.

You sat up straight in his lap, one leg kneeling on either side of Joel's thighs, your core nestled directly over the erection straining behind his jeans. Joel brushed your nipple gently with the pad of his thumb as he stared at you.

"What is it?" He murmured without a trace of concern in his tone.

Taking a breath, you sighed and idly toyed with the curls on the nape of his neck, working up the courage to formulate an opening dialogue.

"Okay, so...." You started softly, making a point to keep your eyes fixed on his. "Uhm, so...Cassie is getting married soon, right?"

Cassie was one of your best friends. Joel gave a small nod to indicate he was listening. His hand was still caressing your ass, the other was still cupping your breast.

"Yeah, well, I just...really I was wanting...," you stumbled over your words, the beating of your heart thudding in your ears now. "I wanted to ask you to go to the wedding with me. As my date."

You blurted out the last part and pressed your lips shut tightly, eyebrows knitting together worriedly in anticipation of his reaction. Joel rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

"I never go to those kinda things, you know that." Joel muttered, pulling his hands away from your body.

"I know, but--"

"They're your friends, not mine." He argued. "Why would I go?"

"Because the guests bring a date with them, to enjoy the occasion," you tried to speak confidently but there was a faint warble in your voice. "Like their boyfriend or girlfriend, or whatever....so I wanted to ask you."

Joel ran a hand over his beard, sighing once more. "Sugar, I hate that shit, dressin' up and bein' around a buncha people I don't give a fuck about," he grumbled.

"But they are my friends," you frowned. "And they mean so much to me. And well, I want you to meet them. I want you to come with me."

Joel looked at you and shook his head a little. Tears began to well in your eyes.

"Joel, I...I really like you," you whispered.

"I like you too, sugar," he said smoothly. His hands slid under your dress and up to the top of your thighs, his thumbs sitting at the edge of your panty line. "Like these sexy legs, your sweet little pussy."

He wasn't paying attention. He was distracting you. No, you have to do this now, no more sex, no more anything until you get it out. You retracted your arms and pushed away from him to stand up off his lap. You hurriedly fixed the strap of your dress back up over your shoulder and took a few steps back, needing distance between you in order to collect your thoughts. Joel watched you from his relaxed position on the armchair, a slight scowl etched on his face now.

"Joel," you sighed, looking at him with imploring eyes. Your fingers twisted together nervously. "I don't just like you. I...I love you. I want to be with you. For real. Like partners." You chewed your bottom lip while desperately awaiting his response.

Joel raised his eyebrows as if your confession were totally unexpected. And then, in a way that felt like a knife slicing into your heart, he slowly shook his head and exhaled a mirthless chuckle.

"Partner? Babydoll, I think you're confused about what this is."

Tears began to well in your eyes and slowly trickle down your cheeks.

"You are mine." Joel said in an eerily calm voice as he leaned forward in his chair. "Mine for me to fuck whenever I want and however I want. But I ain't ever gonna walk down the fuckin' street holdin' your hand. I ain't soft like these boys runnin' around after you and your little slut friends."

You can't help the small, pitiful sob that escapes your lips, or the tears that pour from your eyes and blur your vision. Joel stood up and stepped over to you, reaching out to seize your upper arm tightly. The sudden contact makes you gasp.

He gazed down at you with steely dark brown eyes.

"You knew the deal from the get go, baby. Always knew I ain't that type'a man. But you just kept comin' back to get fucked again and again."

"Let me go," you sobbed and tried to squirm out of Joel's bruising grip. "You're hurting me."

"Don't you like that, baby? Thought you liked it when I hurt ya," Joel snarled, momentarily squeezing your arm before releasing you with a force that makes you stumble backwards.

"Why-why do you have to be so...so mean?" You spit out, voice choked with emotion.

Joel turned back to pick up his whiskey glass and finish the remaining alcohol. You wiped away your tears with the back of your shaky hand, feeling pathetic and small as you sniffle.

"Thought you said you love me," Joel said gruffly.

He slammed the glass on the table and turned back to you, his eyes firey as they bore into you. You instantly recognised the cruel passion shining in them, a look you have seen many times, one that sends shivers up your spine with both excitement and fear, one that makes you wet yet causes a knot of apprehension in your stomach at the same time.

"I do," you replied in a small voice. You shrink back as Joel stepped closer, his hands balling into fists by his sides.

"Get on your knees," Joel said lowly.

His penetrating gaze was intimidating and the tick in his jaw told you he was holding back on unleashing the rage of emotion that swirled inside of him.

"What?" You whispered back, your mind too muddled to comprehend what exactly he was asking for.

"You heard me." Joel whispered back bitterly. "If you love me, you'll do as I say. So get on your fuckin' knees. Now."

You bowed your head and let more tears fall. You do love Joel, and while you had no idea what reaction you were expecting from him, his words were breaking your heart. You knew Joel could be harsh, seemingly heartless at times, and he could be downright sadistic during sex. But the level of Joel's ruthlessness in this moment wounded you deeply, in such a way that was profound and unprecedented in your relationship. You suddenly felt a weariness pass over you, the frustration and dejection beginning to dissolve. You loved him but you were so tired; of the aching left inside your soul after your nights together, of pretending the unrequited affection didn't sting, of allowing your body to be devoured, manipulated and abused in exchange for meagre crumbs of attention.

"No," you said, voice thick from your tears, your head still down. "I won't."

"What'd you say?" Joel grabbed your wrist and gave you a sharp tug toward him. "Fuckin' look at me when I'm talkin' to you."

You peered up at him from under your long lashes, feeling a renewed determination stir inside your chest. You lifted your chin and dated to stare back at him, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat.

"I said no, Joel."

Joel's brows furrowed at the audacity of your refusal, a flash of confusion passing over his features before being replaced with his usual scowl of displeasure. You both gazed into each other's eyes in tense silence for a few moments, as if challenging the other to initiate the next move. Joel's thick fingers remained wrapped around your wrist as you both stood still. The beat of your heart seemed distractingly loud in your ears and you hoped he couldn't hear it. You began to open your mouth but Joel cut you off.

"Go." He whispered through gritted teeth.

"What?" You asked quietly.

"Get outta here," he muttered, dropping your wrist and taking a step back from you.

He jammed his hands into his pockets and gave a minute shake of his head. You looked at him sadly, uncertain of whether to obey him or stay and try to resolve this, salvage whatever was left of the ruins between you, this absolute wreck of dysfunctional intimacy. But for the first time ever, you chose not to beseech Joel. Instead, you took a deep breath, exhaled, and turned to leave.

You didn't look back as you walked out his door and began the walk to your own house two streets away, wrapping your arms around your waist in an effort to stop yourself shivering from the panic coursing through your body. Your breaths came out ragged and unsteady as fresh tears pooled in your eyes. You promised yourself you'd never let Joel Miller hurt you again.

next chapter

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller dark #joel miller x reader #joel miller dark fic #the last of us #joelmillerdark!#dark!joelmiller

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kriimhild · 7 months ago

Note

*holds up my ID showing 28 years old*

Heyo Sun, got some apple cider whiskey and ginger beer? Been in the mood for something fall and festive.

*sets down a $60 tip for him, then also sets $60 for Moon*

Take it easy when you can, you both work so hard, you both deserve a break, you too Monty~!

*checks your ID* Justice never sleeps. But hey, thanks. Have a good night in there pipsqueak.

Well hello there! Ooooh preparing the mood for Halloween and autumn? I have the things right here! *puts orange slices on the glass ring*

Thank you for the generous tip! I'll give it to Moon or you can wait for him. He's out for one of those pools for hunting.

#askbox #dl asks

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darcylewisbingohq · 9 months ago

Text

1. driftwood | bonfire | pyromania

2. sweater weather | a dark and stormy night| 10 days of rain

3. centaur | Sleepy Hollow, NY | bakotsu

4. Halloween virgin | Halloween veteran | Queen of Halloween

5. hidden lagoon | The Pettenedda (well monster) | a bunyip in the billabong

6. dungeon | hidden away in Hydra’s sub-basement | subterranean terror

7. supernatural harbinger (Vardøger) | bilocation (doppelgänger) | the Gothic double (Jekyll v. Hyde/Banner v. Hulk)

8. the Hanging Wood | Witches Castle | the Black Forest

9. Chinese Lantern | vampire fruit | Ghost Gum

10. sheet ghost | haunt | ghost POV

11. phobia | fear made flesh | [insert your personal fear here]

12. alienation | Hill of Crosses | “Waltzing Matilda”

13. mutation | sentient Hydra experiment | interviewing a monster

14. Sasquatch | Wild Man of the Woods | Silvanus (similar to a satyr or faun)

15. tarot cards | crystal ball | ouija board

16. a sling ring | a mystery portal | Doors of Death

17. immortal enemy(ies) to lover(s) | succubus soulmate | fiends for life

18. feline | witch’s familiar | thylacine sighting

19. dragon | La Gargouille | kaiju battle

20. enthrall | ‘like a moth to a flame’ | Mothman

21. a virgin sacrifice | fresh flesh | Drop Bear

22. cider festival | beer garden | Oktoberfest

23. rum runner | mooncusser | Half Moon Bay

24. Jersey Devil | Monster of Ravenna | La Llorona

25. costume | disguised naiad | swan maidens

26. (pre)deceased | axe murder | Fall River, Mass.

27. howl | werewolf | Forest of the Wolves

28. runic carvings | curse | a cult of witches

29. Blood Moon | The Hunt | the Wild Hunt/Santa Compaña

30. catacombs | reliquary | ossuary church

31. rich people Halloween party | a Gothic masquerade | Hydra’s Halloween Ball

Alternates

Because the Darcy Lewis Bingo Mod Team are writers and artists ourselves, we understand that not all prompts are created equal and, therefore, are not necessarily inspiring to all creators. So, for 2024-25, we are including a list of 10 fun, spooky alternate prompts you’re welcome to use on any day you get stumped by the creator prompts we’ve supplied above. Each alternate prompt may only be used once, however, so use them wisely and don’t take them for granted. These are not easier prompts by any means! And don’t forget that all of your Promptober fills must incorporate our beloved Lady of the Astrophysics Lab, Dr. Darcy Lewis!

A1. a 2-sentence horror story (req.: cannot be longer than 2 sentences & must tell a complete horror story)

A2. Darcy’s First Halloween

A3. a Halloween Darcy drabble (req.: exactly 100 words)

A4. the Avengers go out on Halloween Night in New York City

A5. an onomatopoeic story or poem (req.: must include at least 13 onomatopoetic words)

A6. a Darcy retelling of the Headless Horseman (or your favorite classic spooky story)

A7. an acrostic poem about Darcy, the Avengers, and Halloween

A8. The Mummy AU

A9. an autumnal Darcy haiku

A10. record a podfic (with permission) of a friend’s spookiest Darcy fic

With our alternates, this means every player begins this round of Promptober with a whopping 103 spooky season prompts. We can’t wait to see what you make of them in the year to come. Have a spooky time creating, Darcy Friends!

Promptober 2024 is a list of 31 this-that-or-the-other prompt themes handpicked by our mod team to cross international borders for creators to choose from to create spooky, oogie, or hygge fanworks for the autumn & Halloween season (or for Scary Christmas, Valloween/St. Guillotine’s Day, Half-Halloween, Gay Halloween!, Summerween, Scary Christmas in July, or Autumn Down Under for our Aussie creators). We continue to be not your mom so we’re not here to tell you when or how long you can celebrate your Spooky Season. Here at Darcy Lewis Bingo HQ, all your spooky holiday lifestyle choices are valid. In fact…

Important Dates & Deadlines

Promptober begins on August 3rd, 2024 this round, but you know how we feel about deadlines. 🔪 So, for this round of Promptober, we’re doing away entirely with hard deadlines and we mean it! You have from August 3rd, 2024 until our next Halloween event begins, and even beyond that, if you like! Though we do strongly recommend wrapping up this challenge before the next spooky challenge begins, this event remains open basically as long as this bingo exists. No pressure to complete, ever, just inspo and encouragement. 🧡

Promptober Challenges

Promptober Mini Challenge: choose and complete fannish works for any 13 of the prompts from this list for our mini challenge. Creators may choose 13 prompts from the list of prompts—any 13 prompts at all!

Promptober Mega Challenge: choose and complete fannish works for 31 of the listed prompts for our spooky main event! Creators may choose any 31 of the total 93 prompts listed to complete this event.

For an extra personal challenge, you may limit yourself to only posting a fanwork inspired by one of the prompts listed by the number that corresponds to each day of October for every day of the month all month long, but it’s absolutely not required for completion of this event. We want you to succeed and create, and to share new Darcy works, so our goal is always to support you in your fannish creative endeavors and make that as easy as possible.

*If you post every day in October as a personal challenge, mention us @darcylewisbingohq in your tumblr posts to let us know you’ve posted a new work or update so we can reblog your daily posts in as close to real time as possible. Once we’ve left a like on your post, rest assured: that means it’s in our queue, just waiting its turn to be featured on our blog.

Promptober 2024 Guidelines

Promptober fills must prominently feature our beloved Lady of Astrophysics, Dr. Darcy Lewis!

Promptober creators have all of our 2024-2025 round to work on this event! If you want to work on it the whole year until we release the next spooky season event, we encourage you to do that. If spooky challenges are particularly your jam, we’d love to see what you do with ours when you’ve got the whole year to tackle it!

entries—Your fanwork is NOT required to use the prompt exactly as it appears on this list. Prompts need only inspire your fanwork, whether they appear word for word in it or not. However the prompt inspires you is correct, as far as we’re concerned. Subvert the prompt, reverse the prompt, marry the prompt—it’s up to you.

All forms of fannish works are accepted and encouraged for this event! Fanfic, fanart, poetry, podfics, fanvids, playlists, fiber and other crafts, fan edits, moodboards, etc.

You may start posting your Promptober fanworks as soon as they’re ready to share. No need to wait until October and no need to rush to get them all done in that month, either.

Fanwork Fill Requirements

100 words for written works or word art, with the exception of poetry with independent formatting rules (such as haikus).

1 image for artwork or handcrafts of any kind and a description for the visually impaired of the medium used and what it represents.

1 image for cosplay or character-bounding and a description for the visually impaired of cosplay or clothing and any other fashion influences incorporated into the costume or clothing (be descriptive! talk about fabrics and colors, tone and texture! describe the emotions the colors you used evoke in you as the creator!)

9 elements for moodboards (background, images, texts, ephemera) and a description for the visually impaired of the moodboard and what it represents.

6 images for social media AUs and a description for the visually impaired of the creation and what it represents.

10 songs for playlists and a text list of artists and songs to give credit to the original artists, plus a description for the visually impaired of what the playlist represents and how it relates to Darcy.

Still not sure if your creation will meet the minimum prompt fill requirements? @ a mod! we’ll create new requirements based on new types of creator fanwork submissions, as needed.

These participation requirements are identical to our annual bingo event; those guidelines are always pinned at the top of our tumblr blog where they’re easy to find; the link to those guidelines and fill requirements can also be found on Discord in our #bingo-info channel.

#darcy lewis #promptober #promptober 2024 #spooky season #writing challenge #fanwork challenge

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