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i-cant-sing · 2 years ago

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Jason with baby reader whose very affectionate with him but a total menace with everyone else?

Platonic Yandere Batfam x reader

Yesss obviously 💖💖💖 okay but like imagine something with me:

Reader being the youngest addition to the batfam, could be Bruce's bio kid or not, doesn't really matter. The only reason she even ended up at the Wayne Manor was because perhaps Gordon kinda begged Bruce to take you in because he doesn't want you to end in the horrible foster system of Gotham, just asking Bruce to look after you for a couple of months until Gordon can find a good home and adopt you himself.

Anyways, that doesn't happen because Gordon dies. So what was supposed to be a few months, ended up being an indefinite stay.

Okay usually this would be the point when their yandere tendencies start to show but let's say this time- it don't happen.

Look Bruce and the batfam are like super busy with that crime fighting life, believe it or not, vigilant-y life takes a lot of their time. When their not busy saving Gotham, they're either at home resting and recovering, or at work/school. They simply do not have time for family bonding.

Or so you thought.

You've seen the boys going to the "secret" batcave (u found out soon about their hero identities, cause you're smart like that.) and they spend a lot of time training, so they're definitely bonding. While you don't reveal that you already know about their identities and continue to play the fool, it still kinda... hurts to be surrounded by so many people who are supposed to be "family" yet don't treat you as such. Damian snaps at you anytime you ask if you could join him and the others on anything theire doing- even something as simple as just playing video games.

(And then i found out about Damian and Dick being each others fav siblings) Dick tries to be amicable but even he'd turn down hanging with you in favour of taking Damian out to the carnival, saying something along the lines of "Oh Y/n, its just- I haven't seen Damian in a looong time, and it'd be unfair to him if I brought you along because he's just been lookin forward to this outing for so long. Maybe we can do something next time?" But next time doesn't come around, with Dick always prioritising Damian over you.

You thought that Tim would be easier to spend time with, since he's home a lot more than others, but he's a workaholic to the core, and even of you did swing by with a coffee, just to check up on him, he'd plain out tell you to leave, to bother someone else because he just doesn't have the time. And yet there he was, talking for hours on the phone with Conner.

Jason was nice to you even though you initially thought he'd hate you like he hated Damian and well... his other brothers and Bruce as well. But surprisingly, you got along with him. Probably because he thought of you as this sweet kid who didn't know any better about the world, who just needs to be shielded by Gotham and more importantly- Bruce. Maybe that's why Jason talked to you- you're the only one in the house who's not a hero. Maybe that's what he needed: a healthy relationship with someone normal. And it would've been great if he actually hung around more than an hour. No, he was far too busy with ending criminals, or as he liked to tell you "my job doesn't allow me any holidays. Also, I hate Bruce and would swallow a cactus than stay in his home." But at least he brought you souvenirs from the around the world! His "job" had him travelling the world.

Perhaps the boys are just too busy, or don't like spending time with girls, so you decided to go to Bruce. But he's always busy, either with work or with Gotham, or with one of his sons. He is aware of your presence, he just doesn't exactly know what to do about it. With you not being a vigilante or exhibiting any qualities that he would deem extraordinary or impressive, he doesn't know what to do with you. Sure, he's set you an account where he's given you more than enough money to cover all your expenses and everything else, but that's all he gives. Just financing you until you're independent. He doesn't check in with you, not really interested in your average life, and he won't say it out loud but sometimes, he may have even forgotten about you. A few times, he may have taken you along with him to some galas with his sons, and when you're alone with him, you can sense that he's not... pleased? Content? Happy? Sure, he puts an arm around your shoulder and smiles for the cameras, but you can see the way his eyes wander around the room to find something more interesting, more worthy of his attention. The way he taps his fingers with unease, giving you curt replies and dismissive smiles when you tried to talk about schoo or anything, it all made you realise that you are not a child in his eyes.

You are a burden.

No. No, that couldn't possibly be the case. I mean, he took you in. Bruce wouldn't do that if he didn't care about you, right?

Still, to test that theory, you left the gala, alone and without informing anyone. Surely, he or one of the boys would notice your absence. Surely.

They didn't, even as the gala ended, they all left in their own cars, no one even thought to stop and wonder if you were riding with any of them. Hurt and depressed, you made the stupid decision of walking home in your fancy gown. Of course you'd be pulled in the alleyway and be mugged. The low lives decided that they wanted more than just your money, and when you realised their vile intentions, you began thrashing in their arms to break free, resulting in one of them punching your face repeatedly. Just when you thought all was lost, suddenly those pervs were thrown off you and were shot dead. You looked up and were surprised to find out who was your saviour-

Red Hood.

"Jason?"

"Y/n? I mean, who?" Jason was shocked to see you here, more so when you recognised it was him under the mask.

You rolled your eyes. "You can drop the act, Jay. I've known for a while." You groaned in pain as he helped you up. "Shit, you okay?" He asked, helping you walk towards a nearby bench. "Yeah. I mean I got mugged, but yeah..."

"Wait, what are you even doing out here this late?" You told him about the gala. "Soooo... why didn't you go home with them?"

You shrugged. "Just needed to confirm something."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

You remained silent, not wanting to discuss the topic further. Jason sighed before pulling out his phone. "I'm gonna call, Alfred. Have him send a car so pick you up." You grabbed his hand before he could dial.

"I cant- I don't want to go home." He raised a brow. "Why? What's wrong? Did Bruce do something? I swear to god I'll beat-" you shook your head. "No, Jay- look, I just need a break. If it's not too much to ask, can I spend the night with you? Or you can lend me some money and I'll stay at a hotel or something. Promise I'll go back home tomorrow."

Jason stared at you, trying to figure what's bothering you, but he also didn't want to push you by asking. So he nodded. "Of course, you can stay with me tonight. But only if you promise to make me your delicious chocolate chip cookies tomorrow." You smiled, nodding.

Jason took you to his apartment, cleaned up your wounds, cooked you dinner, cracked some jokes and then tucked you in bed. He actually tucked you in bed. He'd never know, but that simple gesture had you crying until you finally fell asleep.

When you returned home the next day, you weren't really surprised that no one had noticed you didn't return home last night.

No one in that house even knew how you were almost rap-

"Miss Y/n?" Alfred called from the kitchen, eyes wide as he took in your bruised face. "What happened? Are you alright?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I fell on the concrete pavement, someone pushed me accidentally-"

"Alfred?!" Bruce called from the dining room.

"You better go. And Alfred-" He stopped. "-don't mention this to him. I don't want him to worry over nothing."

Alfred nodded, leaving to serve Bruce and the boys breakfast. You don't think he'd tell Bruce and even if he did, you don't think he'd actually worry-

"Y/n?" Bruce was standing at your door, eyes narrowing at your face. "Alfred told me you fell?" He walked upto you, inspecting your face. Wait, did he actually came to check up on-

"How many times did you fell? Face first? Because that's a lot of bruises."

"It was a concrete pavement."

"We don't have concrete pavements in the house."

"I was out leaving from a cafe when I fell. Just wanted to eat some bagels." You continued to lie.

Bruce narrowed his eye at you before sighing. "Look, I don't have time for this. If you're in trouble, just tell me."

"I'm not."

"Then do you really expect me to believe that you fell? Is this a desperate cry for attention?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you really did fall in public, "multiple times" as you claim, did you at least get a cab? I don't want anyone taking pictures of you like this and make headlines tomorrow about one of the Wayne kids being abused. I won't have you tarnish the family name."

What? Did he just- did he really say that?

"No. Its not-" you were interrupted by his phone ringing, and Bruce left you to take the call.

You sat there on your bed, dumbfounded and even more heartbroken than before, mind replaying the words over and over again, trying to make sense, make EXCUSES for him, that perhaps you misunderstood him.

But you didn't.

That day, you had finally given up on the batfam. You refused to make a fool of yourself any longer by hoping that one day they'd accept you. You were and always will be an outsider to them. You won't depend on him any longer, even for your finances.

Years went by and you worked hard on yourself to get admission in a highly prestigious college with a fully funded scholarship, all while you worked to handle your expenses. When you got your admission letter, you didn't even bother telling anyone at home about it. Instead, you went out for lunch with Jason to celebrate (who had been dropping by more regularly ever since that night you were mugged), who was more than overjoyed, ruffling your hair and telling you how proud he was of "the only sibling smart enough to bust him out of jail and retirement homes." Jason truly did want this for you- to be normal and go to college like other normal people.

You moved out of the Wayne Manor quietly and moved into your college dorms in a different city, where you found an even better job on the side. The job that now helped you save up enough money to start paying Bruce back for all the years he had to spend housing, clothing and feeding you.

After a couple of months, you were able to wrote your first cheque to Bruce. And if it weren't for the large sum of money and your name attached to it, Bruce wouldn't have realised that he hadn't talked or even seen you for a while. He didn't allow himself to feel guilty for thinking that he may have forgotten about your existence for quite some time.

Picking up the phone, he called you and asked you about the cheque.

"I'm paying you back." Bruce was a little surprised to hear the monotonous tone.

"For?"

"The money you spent on me all these years?"

"Why? And how are you even paying?"

"I've got a job." What? When did this happen? "Look, I gotta go. I have class." You cut the call, and what class? As far as he remembers, Alfred had said something about attending your high-school graduation earlier this year.

Were you in college?

No, no. If you were attending college, he would know. Surely, you'd tell him. And even if you didn't or he forgot, he would remember paying for your tuition. Or maybe he already was, from the account in your name where he sent monthly payments.

Curious, he called the bank, only to be informed that you haven't used the account in years! They did inform him that you opened a separate account, and since Bruce owned the bank, they let him see the account and what you've using it for.

That's how he found out about your college.

You were just leaving your class to go home when you spotted him leaving the Dean's office. Apparently you were not the only one who spotted him, as your classmates all started talking about the famous Bruce Wayne. As Bruce's eyes met yours, you immediately turned and walked the opposite way until you had left the campus, and you went home.

You weren't surprised to see his car outside your apartment. But you were a little surprised to see him in sitting inside your apartment, sitting on the couch with an unamused expression.

"What do you want?" You asked, dropping your bag.

Bruce raised a brow at you. "What? No, hello?" He sighed. "Why did you leave the campus after seeing me?"

"I don't want to be associated with you."

His gaze turned stern. "Why? Are you embarrassed?"

No, I hate you. "No one will take me seriously if they knew I was related to you. I just want to be-"

"-independent? Is that why you sent me this cheque?" Bruce pulled out the piece of paper and dropped it on your coffee table. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you, I just wanted to pay you off."

"You don't need to. You're family."

Only on paper. You thought.

You shrugged. "Doesnt matter. I'm paying you back every cent."

Bruce stood up, walking right in front of you and it was just then that he realised how much you'd grown up. You looked nothing like the scared little kid who was always peeking from around corners. You had matured, far too much for your age. He could see the little bags under your eyes, the wrinkles on your forehead, the disdain in your eyes.

"Why are you trying to cut me out of your life?" Before you could argue, he put a hand up. "I saw the documents. You didn't list "Wayne" as a surname on your college documents. You're trying to distance yourself from the Wayne name? Are you in trouble? Have you done something... dishonourable?"

You scoffed. All these years and all he cares about is his public image.

"Dont worry, I haven't done anything to bring down your family name." You spat. "Look, just take the cheque and leave. You'll never hear from me again, either in the media or otherwise."

Bruce glared at you, clearly slighted. "You're being difficult for no reason." You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from going off on him.

He turned around to leave, not bothering to pick up the cheque.

"How'd you get inside?" You asked when he opened the door. You wanted to know, especially since you took all the right measures Jason taught you to stop anyone from breaking in.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"I bought the building."

You moved to a new place the next day, after you found out that the landlord refused to accept payments from you, since "your father owns the building. You don't need to pay rent." You wish it was easier to change schools though because apparently the everyone now knows you're Bruce Wayne's kid, which everyone figured out when someone called "Y/n WAYNE, please report to the Dean's office", who showed you that he had the college administration fix the little mess up of "forgetting to add Wayne to your name in all the documents" and then told you that he's very grateful to your father for his very generous donation to the college.

Bruce didn't bother you much after that interaction, except for monthly cheques and cash he'd send you, but you're never using cashing them. He also sends you regular invites to galas and social gatherings or even family dinner at home. You don't go to Wayne Manor anymore, not unless absolutely necessary.

Like today, when Bruce called you to come home for a "family portrait" for a magazine or something because the article is covering about all the Wayne kids.

You could already feel your throat closing up as the Manor came into view. You were greeted at the door by Alfred, the man saying he missed your presence at the manor. You just smiled and nodded.

"No luggage?" He inquired, noting that you only brought backpack.

"No. I won't be staying long."

You started making your way towards your room when you passed Damian's room.

"Y/n?" Dick called out, surprised to see you after so long. Or at all? You'd wonder.

"Hey." You said, eyes darting from him to the room where Tim and Damian were, both just as stunned to see you there.

"So, um... how are you?" Dick asked, unsure how to proceed this conversation.

"Great." You replied before turning around and walking to your room, leaving the boys befuddled.

Luckily, the photographer came soon and started with the shoot, and if it weren't for the photographer continuing to tell you to scoot closer to your brothers until Dick just pulled you and you ended up being squished in between them. Had Jason been here, things would be way more comfortable. But since he's been declared dead to the world, he can't be a part of the family portrait.

And later on, its time for dinner and reader is leaving but Bruce calls her back, telling her to at least stay for dinner if not for the night, and you tell him "I can't, exams are coming up." And he replies "really? The schedule your Dean sent me doesn't show any exams coming up." And after some back and forth, you finally sit down at the dinner table, chewing your food silently while the others talked. You were almost finished and this miserable reunion was coming to an end when one of them started to talk about something that triggered you.

It could be anything, from badmouthing Jason to even telling you to get off your high horse and stop thinking that you're better than them just because you've been living on your own and shit.

That's when you just couldn't hold back your anger and went off on them. Everything you'd experienced, all the emotional abuse and neglect you'd been subjected to from them, you told it all.

With tears in your eyes, you left the manor, only to be kidnapped by the Joker. Bruce and his sons didnt say anything to each other that night, except for replaying your words over and over again, simmering in their own guilt silently. Well, that was until-

"She wouldn't know the sacrifices we had to make to keep her blissfully unaware and ignorant of all the crime outside!" Damian yelled. "Just to keep her wrapped up in this bubble, outside of which is a world where she wouldn't ever truly survive if it wasn't for us!"

"Damian-" Dick sighed frustratedly. "-she never asked us to do this all. We chose this life, long before she came along. It's unfair."

"Unfair??? Then how could she claim she didn't feel "protected" when all we've done is slave over making this hellhole safe! How can she say that from the comfort of this home? She's nothing but ungrateful to us and to father! I'm telling you Grayson, if the tables were turned, she wouldn't ever make the sacrifices to save us!" Damian yelled before slamming the door on his way out.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he asked Tim. "Do you... think we've failed her?"

Tim was staring at the ceiling, keeping his thoughts to himself. He definitely felt guilty, he remembers the way he would dismiss you.

Tim's silence was enough answer for Dick, though the two didn't know what to do next.

Thankfully, Alfred did.

"Miss Y/n forgot her phone here last night. Should I parcel it-"

Tim was already out of his seat, grabbing it. "No, I'll take it to her." Turning around, he saw Dick also standing.

"We'll take it to her. Thanks Alfred."

10 hours later, the two brothers stood outside your apartment. They knocked, but you didn't answer.

"Maybe she's at college?" Dick wondered. "Wanna wait here or go- Tim, wait for me!" His younger brother was already down the stairs when they saw Jason outside.

"What are you two dimwits doing here?" Jason asked, actually surprised to see them there.

"Y/n forgot her phone." Tim said, pulling out your phone. "She's not home. We're going to her college."

Jason's brows furrowed. "Why? She doesn't have classes today. We were supposed to meet for breakfast."

Dick couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of your relationship with Jason. Were you always this close to him? And why Jason, he was home far less than any of them.

Jason moved past them to your apartment, a spare key in his hand. "Maybe she just doesn't want to see you two."

Again, Dick couldn't help the envy that creeped up on him at the sight of Jason using a spare key to let himself in, the feeling only intensifying when he spotted many frames with pictures of you and Jason together.

After checking the whole place, you weren't there. Now, it was time for Jason to start panicking, as he asked them what happened at the manor, and he blew up at them as well for pissing you off like that.

When they had confirmed that you weren't in college or had ever returned to the city yesterday, they all went into panic mode as they informed Bruce about you going missing.

They all rushed back to Gotham, where Bruce had already pulled up CCTV footage of the place where you were last seen, hearts dropping when they saw someone come up from behind and knock you out, before kidnapping you. But no matter how much they searched for you, how many goons they beat up, they couldn't find you.

It is during this time that their yandere tendencies start to develop.

And it wasn't until a week later when they received a hint about your whereabouts, and they finally found you, in a warehouse, chained to the ceiling, a shock collar around your neck, all bruised and beaten because come on, Joker ain't gonna go easy on you.

The torture he subjected you to, it was almost comparable to the one Jason had to suffer. You were unnervingly still, and they couldn't help but wonder whether you were... dead.

That was until the shock collar went off and you screamed as your body jolted, Joker's manically laughing in the shadows.

"She's a tough one, much better than the wannabe Robin! I've been shocking her, waterboarding her, whipping her all week but she refused to tell me your real identities! I was starting to believe her when she said she didn't know, but it's just fun seeing her writhe in pain-!"

They beat Joker up, while one of them takes the collar and chains off you. You'd passed out from pain and exhaustion, and when you woke up, you were back in your room at the manor. While you were unconscious, Jason did end up revealing about how you actually did know about them being vigilantes, further intensifying their guilt and increasing their yandere tendencies, after all they do realise how they've failed to protect you.

So the story from here progresses on to when reader is actually forced by the family to stay in the manor to heal, all while their need to protect you increases the more you refuse their help.

When your injuries have healed and you're ready to leave, but they don't let you. Bruce tries to approach you, gently telling you that you need to be at home with your family, where you're safe. He wants one more chance at righting all his wrongs, he won't shy away- he admits he's made mistakes in the past with you. You back away when he tries to come closer to you.

"You don't get to choose to make up for your mistakes when you feel guilty, not when I had to spend all those years learning to live with your horrible parenting."

Tim spoke up next, telling you to just listen to what he has to say, but you cut him off with a dismissive hand.

"This is how you used to brush me away whenever I came to you, like I was some sort of fly, always too busy, too much of a hassle to even reply to a simple hello. So, why should I give you my time of the day now?"

Dick tries the comforting approach too, surely you don't hate him as much since he wasn't even around that much in the first place to cause you any hurt, promising you that he will do better this time. But you shut him down quickly too.

"I was never a priority for you then. I used to sit on these stairs, waiting for you day and night to finally be able to spend time with you. I know better by now than to trust your false promises."

Damian had a melt down next because you insulted his favourite brother. He went off on you that you never had to suffer through the same trauma as he or any of them did. How it's unfair that you don't give them another chance, how you don't understand that the Wayne's aren't a perfect family because of all the horrible things they've had to and still do go through on a daily basis.

You stared at him for a few moments before replying.

"I was almost r*ped."

The room went deadly silent, Bruce's mouth agape, Damian's eyes widening, while Dick and Tim turned pale.

"The night we went to that gala, you guys all left without me. I was pulled in an alley, mugged and almost r*ped if it weren't for Jason." You chuckled dryly. "What's worse is that none of you even bothered to call me, or even noticed that I hadn't returned home that night. I could've been dead in a ditch and none of you would've noticed for months, if not years." You wiped the tear that escaped your eye. "None of you attended my graduation, none of you noticed I had left for college, not until I sent a cheque to Bruce. I've buried you all in my past, and if it helps you sleep at night, I have forgiven you as well but I will never forget."

You looked at Damian. "And just because you've gone through some shit Damian, doesn't mean I'm undeserving of love and respect. I've experienced traumatising incidents too but the difference between you and me is that I don't use them an excuse to be a fucking dickhead."

You heard a car honk from outside. "Jason's here to drive me home- my home."

But before you could take another step, Tim had injected you with something. You jumped back, holding the puncture wound on your neck.

"W-what did you do?!" You yelled at him, and Tim only shrugged. "What's necessary."

You heard another honk, and this time, you opened your mouth to yell for Jason, only to have a hand slap over your mouth, muffling your screams for help. It was Dick, as he quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, dragging you away from the door as Bruce ordered Tim to put the whole house on lock down mode (essentially an impenetrable fortress), while Damian went outside to release his anger on Jason, both for failing as a brother to you (not that he'd ever admit it) and for Jason being clearly your favourite.

And from here on, you're being constantly coddled by the batfam (except for Jason since he does actually want to save u from the batfam). Bruce is always the first one to greet you every morning, and if you're still asleep when he comes, he might get away with patting your hair without you flinching away. He'd greet you, tell you he's expecting you to join him downstairs for breakfast. You simply turn your back to him, pulling the covers over your head, not bothering to reply to him, hoping to catch a break in this goddamn house.

You're only able to spare yourself for a few moments before the covers are yanked off you and you're greeted by the cheery voice of Dick. "Good morning, baby bird!" He'd yell before pulling you up and of the bed by your arms, and then to his chest, spinning you around as you try to escape his crushing grip. He's not fazed at all, mostly because he views you as a tiny little feral kitten who just needs a lot of love and snuggles. He drags you down for breakfast, everyone else already seated. You're seated between Dick and Bruce so that you can't run away, and also because Bruce makes it a habit of talking to you on various topics, usually about the book he'd leave on your bed. You would talk to him at first, but after a few weeks, you got bored with the silent treatment.

If its Dick's day with you, he spends most of the time trying to do anything and everything. No activity is off the table. Baking? Hell yes, but he's the only one who laughs after he intentionally throws flour at your face and fails at starting a food fight when you just leave. You wanna play board games? He's pulled out every board game in history and he very obviously let's you win. Movie night? He's build a fort (that he claims you two built together. You didn't, you just stood there while he built it.) And has all the classic films, pulls you close so that he can nuzzle his cheek with yours (again, not fazed by you trying to scratch his face off). Sometimes, he'd even bring you to the gymnasium (because Bruce can afford to build one in his house), where he lowkey forces you to learn about gymnastics, but at least he's a good spotter, cause you never get hurt.

If its Tim's day with you, he makes you spend the whole day just... with him. Look he's sleep deprived, he's lanky, he doesn't have a lot of energy like Dick or Damian, but what he does have is... perseverance. Tim will literally handcuff you to him if it means making sure you stay by his side. If he's getting coffee, youre getting coffee with him (he makes you a cup). If he's sleeping, you're right there, either get comfy and sleep next to him, or stay up and be bored because he's dead asleep. If he's in the batcave reviewing CCTV footage, you're there with him all day and even nights. He just wants to the remorse of dismissing you before to go, almost like he's trying to make up for all the time he wasn't there when you needed him, to now being in your business every second of the day.

If its Damian's turn with you, he's... weird. He doesn't actively make you do anything with him, it's more like having you observe him. He'd have you sit on the side and watch him train for hours on the end, rudely refusing to let you go do something else, or even train with him. He's playing with Titus? You're supposed to be watching him teach Titus tricks. He's going for a walk? No, you're the one who's walking while he's running laps past you. It's like he's trying to impress you to make up for his shitty words and behaviour.

As for Bruce, he likes to spend his time with you on a schedule. Have breakfast with him, then go on a jog around the estate, then accompany him to his home office where he works while you do college work (because obv, he shifted you to online education), and he definitely annoys you by standing over you while you study, not helping you until you ask for it but also not leaving so you feel intimidated under his stare and continue to make mistakes. Then have lunch at noon, followed by him giving you a puzzle or one of those fake crime files to solve, he likes to stimulate your brain and see how it works. This activity takes time so by the time you're done, Alfred has prepared supper. You both have dinner and then you both go to the library to read, because he wants to something less stimulating to the mind as your bedtime nears. Then he tucks you in bed, sits by your side and gives you a lot of positive affirmations (which he picked up from the parenting books in his library), before kissing the top of your head and leaving.

As for Jason, since he still insists on "saving" you, he's not allowed to see you. He can try breaking in all he want, he can't outsmart the Batman.

Or can he?

I had to type this on mobile with henna on my hands.

Yall better be grateful.

#yandere batman #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne

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hotvintagepoll · 8 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Greta Garbo (Camille, Anna Karenina, Queen Christina)—Enigmatic and alluring and made me bisexual. The perfect example of the eroticism in silent films that literally transcends text. Could literally not change anything about her expression but you knew by looking at her eyes what she was thinking. She’s so gorgeous.

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Garbo:

A cold-ass Swedish WLW Sphinx. Had plans to murder Hitler that she never got around to. "She will remain always a child of vikings, moved about by a snowy dream."

First of all, she's on the money; that's how much of a treasure she is. She's beautiful in such a distinct way you need very few lines to draw her. (Drawing by Einar Nerman) She managed to be mesmerizing in both silent and sound films. She kissed a woman in Queen Christina (and probably several more in real life). She was super dry and really funny in Ninotchka. She got the hell out of Hollywood and stayed out, living for almost 50 years after her retirement.

Garbo is one of the many reasons why I'm gay. If you haven't seen Queen Christina please do, She is so gender in that film. Also her accent makes it sound like she's always talking in cursive and it's so hypnotic (or at least I think so).

She's a gay introvert, like all of us here on Tumblr.

Probably a lesbian, absolutely a mood when she retired

Mysterious and aloof, charismatic and enigmatic, with beautiful androgynous characteristics, Garbo is undoubtedly the most eccentric and unique Hollywood vintage star. Her aversion to fame and stardom makes her even more desirable to the audience, and her insane chemistry with the camera, an actress one of a kind! Her particularity and her oddity is what discerns her strongly from her hollywood co workers at the time, noone was like her and would never be like her. I think, to the utmost extent, that she deserves the title of the hottest vintage star, even though that would be an understatement of what she is!

SO gorgeous, her thick Swedish accent makes will turn your brain into pudding

Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do!

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

youtube

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

#audrey hepburn #greta garbo #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

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loveemagicpeace · 11 months ago

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🍯Astrology Notes🍯

🪴Virgo rising- are very caring people. They take great care to ensure that you have everything you need, especially for your health. They will be able to tell you a lot about various medicines.

🌱Gemini rising- funny as fuck sometimes. They are people who talk and don't stop. You can discuss all possible topics with them if you want. They have a very open mind. But when it comes to being able to do something, sometimes they are not so open to new things. Let's say one difference between them and Sagittarius is that they are not traveling types and they don't like to travel that much.

💫You will feel most comfortable talking to people with whom you have the same compatible moon and mercury in your house. for example: mercury in the 9th house and the other person has mercury in the 1st house. With this you can see what topics you can discuss with others.

🪐People who has saturn in 1st house looks better when they are skinnier. Because their bones and body structure are more beautifully emphasized. Many times they can have weight problems(they can quickly lose weight from worry).

🍀Earth signs look very down to earth even when they are joking around. Even when they make a crazy joke, they still look down to earth.

🐚Scorpios quickly stop trusting you. You just have to do one thing and they are done trusting you. When they see that you are dishonest to them in any kind of way, they will not trust you anymore. Especially when they get to know someone from the beginning and notice that they didn't tell them something or hid something from them, and as I said, it could be just one small thing like say you're going to say you're eating pizza, but in reality you're eating hamburger. It is small lie. But this is sometimes also one of the reasons why pisces and scorpio don't go so well together. Because pisces tend not to say everything while scorpios are. Many times, pisces swim off into their fantasy world and sometimes get lost in it. Scorpios are always looking for the truth in everything. I have seen successful Scorpio/Capricorn couples many times.

🍁Fire signs are actually very active people. So you have to prove them love with actions. They want to see how much you are willing to do for them and how much you are willing to risk. When you go beyond your limits and do something really crazy for them, they will really appreciate it.

💷2nd house represents your money & 8th house where you invest money. The 2nd house reflects your underlying relationship to money and patterns around money are often deeply ingrained. With the Moon in Cancer here, your emotional wellbeing rises and falls with your bank balance, both of which may be subject to flux. You can be a rags-to-riches success, but with Saturn in the 2nd you might always feel poor, the millionaire who still buys the budget range at the supermarket. The 8th house is concerned with debt and our relationship to institutions which provide loans, mortgages, and overdrafts. Capricorn on the cusp of the 8th suggests paying your dues and insisting on a proper contract, Sagittarius here you can invest a lot in travel or even illegal things.

☀️The Sun is the central flame of our vitality. Acting according to your Sun sign and engaging in activities denoted by the house it occupies are important ways to increase your energy and vigour. For instance, with Sun in the 1st, you might need time alone in order to recoup your energies - the presence of others can drain you, Or with Sun in the 6th, maybe you like to spend spare time working in the garden or catching up on DIY. The Sun in Sagittarius might mean you like to explore far afield; if in Aquarius maybe you like to holiday with a group of friends. Sun in Scorpio- working in the shadows or researching something no one knows about is best for you. Sun in 7th house you like to devote a lot of your time to your partner.

🧸Some signs are naturally more work-oriented and some more suggestive of needing a slower pace. Capricorn (or its ruler Saturn) is often highlighted in the charts of anyone with a strong work ethic - by contrast, Leo, Libra, or Pisces might engender a bit more need for time off, to play, relax, or dream. Each Zodiac sign has its ideal gap year or holiday. The fire signs might favour adventure breaks, the air signs a chance to meet new faces, the earth signs maybe an eco-trip; and the water signs a sojourn by the sea or in quiet, restful places.

🩰The IC and the 4th house describe home, both as a physical place and as an inner sense of roots, safety, and foundation. If you have Jupiter in the 4th, it might feel natural to you to travel around or you might even choose to live abroad - or with Uranus here, you may experience many changes of home(many unexpected moves). With the Sun or Moon in the 4th, you might be so strongly connected to home and homeland that uprooting yourself will not be easy - your Sun here suggests your life revolves around home in some way, the Moon that your emotional wellbeing is closely tied to it. With Pluto you can feel that your home is intense and that you are always transforming through it (but it can also leave bad memories). With Mercury can mean that you change your home a lot. With Mars you may feel that your home is often chaotic or aggressive and you are looking for a home where you can become independent. With Neptune many times your home is confusing, strange. Many times you find your ideal place somewhere by the ocean. With Venus your home is loving, genuine and you have loving parents to whom you love to return. But it can involve a lot of money or love based on it. So you can feel that your parents never really appreciated you if you didn't have money.

🧚🏼‍♀️About Aquarius: I want to say one thing about them. I would say that if they really really want they will do it. But most likely they are independent people & lost souls sometimes. I think that they are scared of attachment. So that's why they are rather alone. They are looking for someone. Who will be goofy as they are.

💌I think Valentine's Day is for Libras. Libra is a sign of love, romance,beautiful things. And if any sign is inclined to & like to celebrate this day, it's definitely the Libra. But I find it a little strange that it is in Aquarius season.

💘Cupido is definitely a Sagittarius sign. Although people don't believe that Sagittarians are so loving and romantic, but they really are. Cupido shoots into the hearts of people who are meant to be together. If you hit a sagittarius deep in the heart with your love, then you can see the true side of them. Then you can see how loving they are.

🌅The people you attract into your life are usually connected to your North Node.For ex.: North node in Virgo in your 8th house- you will mostly be attracted to people who have a virgo placements, scoprpio placements, or pisces/ taurus placements.

🌊Pluto symbolizes power in whatever house it is. The power you feel in yourself and the people around you. Strong experience of feelings. For ex.: 5th house - privacy, romance, jealousy, strong emotions, strong happiness, attitude towards the things you do, you feel strong love, devotion. Obsession with changing partners maybe or affairs idk. 6th house - obsessed with perfection, control, work, high expectations. 7th house - you attract a lot of possessive partners, obsession with your partner, but at the same time you can be afraid to get into a relationship, mistrust. 8th house rulership- curious, constant control, secrets, power over your secrets, emotional transformations, many dark things, connection with birth and death, great interest in hidden things. 10th house - people can see you as a strong opponent, driven for a career, they can see you as a person who has a lot of secrets, you can present people with challenges. Big influence.

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🩰🌙

#astrology #zodiac signs #energy #my notes #astrological houses #astrology observations #birth chart #planets #love

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kannouo · 3 months ago

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This Is Halloween!

fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers x gn!reader. summary: how each of the demon brothers celebrate halloween. warnings: slightly suggestive on some parts, but not much. A/N: nobody asked for this i just really love halloween. had a lot of fun with writing these!

LUCIFER

• Predictably, Lucifer is very vocal with his complaints about this holiday. However, no matter how much he has to say about how pointless or childish these traditions are, you will always catch him going along with it anyway.

• "I don't see the appeal of these silly decorations," he says, and then spends the evening decorating the front lawn with elaborate props. "Why should we spend so much money on sweets if we're just going to give it all away?" He asks right before buying multiple bucket-fulls of candy because he wasn't sure how quickly they'd run out. "These costumes are ridiculous," he sighs, and later you find him trying on some newly-bought fake vampire fangs.

• He would only fully dress up if there was some kind of costume party orchestrated by Diavolo or the like. And when he does, he goes all out. Did you think the Avatar of Pride was going to settle for cheap, store-bought costumes? No — he's going to make sure his look is spectacular. You aren't sure how he's so good at special effects make-up.

• Dressing as a vampire is a pretty standard and basic choice, but Lucifer really brings it to life. To be honest, he already sort of dresses like a stereotypical vampire anyway, but he goes all-out this time. A long black cloak and formal outfit with red accents, some foundation for the illusion of paler skin, and some very well-done fake blood dripping from his lips. He probably carries around a goblet full of red wine just to really sell it.

• He doesn't need to do much else. He already has the good looks, black hair and red eyes. If you find him particularly attractive in this costume, you can expect him to teasingly indulge your fantasies throughout the evening and well into the night.

• If you let him buy garden props or decorations around the house, he will somehow find the most genuinely terrifying things out there. He very much enjoys the fear his very well-placed jumpscares and strangely realistic-looking skeletons spark in you and his brothers.

• A downside is his lawn decorations absolutely scare off a good amount of trick-or-treaters. Oh well. Beel will eat all the candy he bought instead, so at least it won't go to waste.

"Where did you get such good fake blood?" You question, wiping your thumb over Lucifer's bottom lip. He smirked, and you caught a glimpse of the fangs you'd helped him put in earlier. Trapped between him and the wall at your back, you allowed yourself to lean your head back as he kissed you. Only... His lips tasted... coppery? You pulled away for breath and stared at him. "It... it is fake, right?" "...Lucifer, please tell me that's fake blood."

MAMMON

• Hell yeah, Halloween! Sexy costumes, parties, sale opportunities! Mammon loves Halloween.

• Takes a bunch of Halloween-themed modelling gigs, since the season means anything related to it will sell way better. He can even make some extra money by making crappy T-shirts and charms and selling them to people who are crazy about this time of year.

• What Mammon doesn't love about Halloween, though, are two things. Horror and witches. Specifically witch costumes, because sometimes they look too realistic to a witch he's had "dealings" with in the past and trigger his fight or flight panic response. Maybe just choose something else to dress up as when you're with Mammon.

• As for horror, Mammon will deny to the grave that he's scared of horror movies, but he is, and he hates the uptick in scary films and horror attractions. He tries to avoid going near them or talking about them in general, because if you were to ask him to watch a horror movie or to come with you to a haunted house attraction, he has to say yes. He can't have his human thinking he's scared of something so silly! So for that reason, he tries to steer clear of the subject altogether.

• Mammon doesn't need a motive to dress up. It's Halloween, of course he's going to. The costume he chooses is likely to be something related to whatever is trending that year. If a new movie just came out that's all the rage online, he'll dress as a character from it. Aside from that, I can see him doing a werewolf look. He might even wear a collar if you ask.

• Will lose all ability to speak if you show up in a costume, too. It doesn't even matter if it's actually revealing at all, no matter what he will be absolutely floored. If it is something a little riskier though, expect him to get kind of possessive and very protective. Especially in public. His brothers think this behaviour is hilarious. "LOLOLOL, MC has a guard dog!" "Shaddup!"

• Super eager to answer the door to trick-or-treaters, but there has to be a rule set in place that he isn't allowed to go out there and demand money in exchange for candy from anyone who looks old enough, otherwise he will do just that.

• Takes all the candy from those "take one!" buckets left outside of people's houses and probably gets some kind of curse put on him because of it. Mammon becomes one of Lucifer's decorations that day.

You approached a smaller house with one hand intertwined with Mammon's, and a candy bag in the other. You were already a little sceptical as there weren't any lights on, but to your delight, there was a fake cauldron set up outside the door with a sign reading "please take one!" You picked out a candy bar of your choosing, only for Mammon to grab the bag from your hands. "Wha—" To your horror, he reached his arm in and scooped out all of the candy into the bag in chunks. "Mammon!" You scolded. "Shhh!" He shoved the — now full — bag back into your arms and grabbed you. "Just go!" ...You're pretty sure you saw the light of a doorbell camera as you both ran from the scene of the crime.

LEVIATHAN

• Levi does not like Halloween.

• I mean, any other time of the year normies make fun of cosplay and refuse to participate in it! But on Halloween night, it's suddenly okay?! And he's expected to greet all these snot-nosed little kids at the door and give them treats?! Absolutely not. He holes himself up in his room until Halloween night is over and done with, but honestly, it's not much of a difference to how he usually is.

• I can see him enjoying the decorations aspect of it, though. Even if he won't willingly participate in anything else, you can expect his room to be fully decked out in Halloween props and decor. He definitely buys stickers off of Akuzon to put on the windows.

• Another aspect he does actually like is the horror marketing, specifically if it's revolved around horror games. His idea of getting into the Halloween spirit is inviting you on a horror game binge in his room, but most of the games he chooses are very obscure and disturbing. If you like stuff like that, great! If you don't... ah... I'm sure he can find one that's a little less upsetting for you.

• He's too embarrassed to wear a costume in public, but if he were to dress-up at all, it'd be in cosplay. Maybe of Ruri-chan or one of his other beloved anime characters. It isn't horror-themed at all, but whatever, it's still a costume. He'll let you see him in it if you ask nicely, but he won't be going outside his room with it on. He also didn't need to order anything, he already had all of these cosplays hidden away in his closet for... personal reasons.

• Might actually get a kick out of one other thing — pumpkin carving! He'll carve a video game character into it instead of an actually frightening or classic Halloween design, but it turns out really good anyway.

• If anyone organises an apple-bobbing contest, he absolutely dominates. You're pretty sure being able to breathe underwater is against some kind of rule because he just doesn't need to come up at all, he'll dunk his head in and not come out until he gets an apple.

• Levi is the house leaving out "take one!" buckets.

After the umpteenth time of Levi insisting that this next game will be "more up your alley," you started to lose faith. All of these Devildom horror games seemed especially gore-y and cruel in a way that would not fly if they were released in the human realm. "Maybe... this one?" Levi hovered over another horror game he already downloaded and selected it. As soon as it booted up, the background 'music' on the title screen had the most horrific and genuine terror-filled screams you'd ever heard in your life. You winced and he immediately went back to the homescreen. "...Let's just play Devilkart," he conceded. "Yeah. Let's."

SATAN

• Doesn't mind Halloween as a whole, but gets really into certain aspects of it.

• Satan is another one likely to get in the "Halloween spirit" by binging horror media for the whole month, in his case, books. Most conversations with him in the month of October will lead back to the latest horror novel he's reading and his thoughts on it. He might recommend it to you if he knows you like horror, but if you don't, he'll also go in-depth about the plot.

• He really enjoys elaborate Halloween props, but if you set up one of those jumpscare machines to pop out at him, he will destroy it on instinct. Will later deny that it scared him at all, though.

• He likes all of the human-world Halloween traditions and tries to organise them for him and his brothers to participate. Apple-bobbing, pumpkin carving, ghost stories, you name it; he'll push for everyone to take part.

• Satan would only dress up if you managed to convince him to do so or if, like Lucifer, there was some kind of event that required all attendees to be in costume. Either way, he figures out he actually enjoys it way more than he thought he would. He dresses in a stereotypical 'detective' outfit and gets really into character. He even carries around a fake pipe.

• ...Might dress up as a cat. It depends on his mood. He would much prefer to see you dressed as one, though. If you do show up dressed in some kind of 'sexy cat' costume, he will drag you away with him at the earliest convenience.

• He and Belphie put a smoke machine in Lucifer's room while he was busy decorating the lawn.

• Doesn't like handing out sweets. If he's the one answering the door, you'll have to stop him from trying to give the kids fruit instead of the candy you already bought. "These are unhealthy. We shouldn't be encouraging such young children to have bad eating habits—" "Satan, just give the kid a snickers."

"Just put them on? Please?" You pouted, holding a black cat headband in front of his face. He glanced between you and the cheap cat ears for a moment, before sighing and grabbing them off of you. You grinned as he put the headband on his head, then stared at you with raised eyebrows and an unimpressed glare. "Happy?" "Very," you nodded. Then you reached to pull out your D.D.D. "Now meow for the camera." "Don't push your luck."

ASMODEUS

• "In girl world, Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it." — Mean Girls, 2004.

• Granted, he's not a girl, and he'll dress exactly how he wants any other day of the year too. But still, Halloween is special! He has so many things to choose from. Sexy cat? Sexy nurse? Sexy cop? Sexy—

• Like Mammon, he might choose a costume based on a popular or trending movie, just with his own special Asmo-touch. He won't settle for cheap, store-bought costumes — even if he'd still look damn good in them — and probably makes his outfit himself. Try and tell me you can't see him dressing as Barbie. You can't, because he would.

• He does Halloween-themed makeup looks throughout the whole month of October. You can expect his Devilgram to be filled with pictures of cute Halloween nail designs he did, and a matching makeup look. If any sort of event happens and you're going — he'll insist on dolling you up for it himself! He's your personal makeup artist.

• Isn't a fan of horror movies, horror attraction or those creepy decorations Satan and Lucifer keep buying. He might accompany you to a haunted house though, so he can dramatically throw himself at you whenever he encounters something even mildly frightening.

• If you convince him to do pumpkin-carving (despite his insistence that it would ruin his perfectly manicured nails), he carves a some kind of cute design, like a pretty flower. He would carve his beautiful face into it, but... he isn't quite at that level of expertise.

• Asmo is very excited to hand out all the candy! All the kids that come to the door look so adorable in their little costumes! And if you think you saw him sneak a few sweets for himself when he's supposedly on a diet, no you didn't.

"Aaaah! MC, save meee!~" Asmo came running down the hall of the haunted house attraction, jumping into your arms and clinging to you for dear life. As you looked in the direction he came from to see what could have possibly startled him so badly, you saw nothing but a tiny, fake spider prop. "...Asmo, it's a plastic spider." "But it looks ickyyy!" He whined. "Can I hold onto you until we get through this hall? So you can protect me!~" "...Fine." "Oh, MC, my hero!~" He began to pepper kisses all over your face. "A—Asmo! Where do you think you're touching?!"

BEELZEBUB

• You can probably see where this is going, but yes, he will eat all of the candy you buy.

• He doesn't mean it, honestly. But it just smells so good and it's right in front of him. Pumpkin carving is also impossible with Beel for this reason. He will just eat the whole pumpkin. It's best to hide all of the sweets from him until Halloween night, but considering his excellent sense of smell, even that won't work for long if he wakes up in the middle of the night with a craving.

• He does his best to be helpful where he can, however. He's very tall, so he'll help with putting up decorations in high places. He's also capable of carrying large props to and fro with minimal effort, so Lucifer found him very useful for setting up the lawn decor.

• Beel doesn't mind dressing up if it'll make you happy. He also doesn't really care what his costume is. If you take him out to choose, he'll constantly turn the question of what he should wear back on you, because he really can't decide and honestly doesn't care that much. You could point to the most ridiculous-looking Winnie the Pooh costume and he'd shrug and say "okay."

• That being said... a bear costume would suit him pretty well. Imagine seeing an absolute beast of a man dressed as Winnie the Pooh and absolutely downing pots of honey. People are just kind of like huh... that's a really dedicated Winnie the Pooh cosplayer, I guess. Another costume I can see for him is a zombie because... "eating brains"? Idk.

• He also isn't a good choice to compete in apple-bobbing competitions for obvious reasons. If you thought Levi would dominate, wait until Beel starts consuming the entire container of water and apples. The apple-bobbing event had to be cut short.

• He doesn't mind horror movies and attractions. He won't go to them of his own accord, but if you take him along, he'll hold your hand the whole time so you don't get too scared. The only downside is that the scare actors will probably be too terrified of him and his RBF to actually jump out and scare either of you, so... it kind of just feels like a tour of some weird abandoned house.

You flinched and covered your eyes as the screen before you displayed yet another jumpscare. You couldn't help but curse Levi for recommending this movie... what is wrong with the Devildom film industry?! You heard Beel's crunching on chips cease next to you for a moment before he shuffled closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to rest against his side. "Beel?" "Shh," he lifted a few more of the chips from the bag to his mouth. "You're okay." Usually, him talking with his mouth full would diminish how he was trying to comfort you, but... you had to admit, you felt much safer snuggled against him like this. "...Thanks." You try to ignore the crumbs he's getting on you.

BELPHEGOR

• It's Halloween?... Okay? Snooore.

• He's about as apathetic as you would expect. He doesn't care what day it is, he's going back to bed. Will not assist any of his brothers in decoration, except for maybe Beel if he's feeling awake enough. But Beel doesn't usually require that much help anyway.

• Belphie isn't going to buy himself a costume. You'll have to get him one. "Belphie! I got something for you to wear!" "Yeah? What?" The look he gave you when you held up the disney princess gown suggested he didn't quite think it was as amusing as you did. Still, if it's all you got him, he probably would wear it.

• Obviously, the most fitting costume you can buy him is one of an actual sloth. Just make sure it's comfortable enough, and he'll be wearing it long after Halloween is over. Another costume he'd appreciate is a zombie similar to Beel's or a mummy, because then he can just lay down, sleep, and excuse it as the fact the thing he's dressed as is literally dead.

• Is not affected by jumpscares in the slightest. He might watch a horror movie with you, but he probably won't accompany you to any attractions unless you carry him. If you do get him there, though, he'll make fun of you for being scared and keep hiding behind corners to make you think he disappeared or went ahead without you.

• Apple-bobbing? Pumpkin carving? Costume parties? Eh... Beel, MC, can you guys handle this for him? Pretty please?

• Isn't too thrilled about answering the door, but he will do it if you pester him. He kind of just chucks a bunch of random candy into all the kids' bags and probably scares one or two of them off by making a poorly timed, slightly threatening joke. You have to remind him they're children and don't understand he's kidding.

• That doesn't mean he'll stop. He's now just scaring them on purpose because it's funny.

"Belphie, wake up!" You lightly slap the back of his head and he jolts awake, shooting you a glare. You frown right back at him. "We're going to be late to the party." "Why are we even going?" He whined, rubbing his eyes. "Because we were invited? And it'd be rude to not at least try and show up?'' "Whatever..." You hit him again as he went limp. "Stop doing that. I'm a sloth. Sloths sleep." "Get up, Belphegor! I am not carrying you all the way there!"

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #tbh the hol is already a halloween attraction but #whatever #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date

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crescencestudio · 1 month ago

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๋࣭⭑ Devlog #45 | 12.02.24 ๋࣭⭑

well, this is more like a half devlog if i'm being honest

Hi everyone! Man, it's been a while since we last talked, huh? Somehow my last devlog to you all was end of August, and now we're all the way in December. It's crazy to know I was in my cave for that long LMFALSIDJF

I don't usually do devlogs starting the last two months of the year---usually because I end up getting busy, and with it being the holidays, I just give myself the devlog off as my one little "holiday treat."

This year, it's a bit different since I haven't given you all a devlog in quite a while. I have exciting and boring news to share with you all this month! First off for exciting news, as I'm sure you've all heard....

I'M A DOCTOR!!!!!!

That's RIGHT. The step away from Alaris was everything I needed to be able to crunch my dissertation and graduate this semester. To say it was painful would be a complete understatement. For context, people usually spend about 1 year writing and defending their dissertation. Since I last spoke to you all, I ended up analyzing, writing, and defending my entire dissertation in the span of about 2-3 months. Basically every moment that I existed as a living being was spent working on my dissertation (if I wasn't working), and even a month after I defended I'm in disbelief that I was able to pull it off.

But here I stand before you all, finally free from the confines of academia after a grueling 4 years.

I have worked on Alaris the entire time I've been in PhD school, and so there's literally no one here who knows me outside of being a PhD student. So it's crazy to enter a new chapter of game dev where I no longer have to balance work, PhD school, and Alaris. And instead, I can be a normal person that just balances work and game dev.

That being said...

I know I had told you all I would be back in the Alaris grind in November since that would be around the time when my defense would be. And while I've literally tried my damnedest to get back on the game dev horse, it's been a Fckn Struggle, everyone.

I don't think I realized how hard I was working myself until this past month rolled around and I entered recovery mode. Admittedly, I actually think I was working myself harder when I was balancing Alaris with work and PhD stuff than when I was crunching a 1 year dissertation project into 2 months. And this might not be a new revelation to some people---even earlier this year, I remember getting comments of like "wow, you're working so fast/hard!" "omg how are you getting all this done?" "you need to be nicer to yourself, i don't think you realize how much work you actually do" etc. etc.

But I think because I enjoy game dev so much, I didn't see it as working myself hard. Now, though, after getting some clarity and seeing how much that was affecting my physically, I really want to make it a point to take care of myself better and not push myself too hard (life is too short and healthcare is too expensive LMALSDF).

So, while this isn't me saying Alaris is going on hiatus or anything scary like that, I do hope you all can extend a bit more of your patience and understanding at least until the end of this year for me to get back into the swing of things. I have genuinely been thinking about Alaris a lot---the script and scenes I want to write, CGs I want to draw, etc. But I just haven't had the physical energy to do it.

I'm hoping writing this devlog will help me get back into the swing of things this month. But I do want to be transparent that the holiday season tends to get busy for me, so I don't want to make promises of working on Alaris at any kind of full capacity.

Luckily, a lot of Alaris is done. If you all remember, the only route that needs to be written at this point is Aisa's. And half of the routes have been programmed! While Etza and Kuna'a's routes do need to be cleaned up and edited, a lot of the foundational work, which is most time-consuming for me is done. So I do still hope to get Alaris to you all (at least the Central routes) in early 2025!

Thank you all as always for being patient and understanding. As I get back on the Alaris horse, I also hope to get back into answering your messages <3 Hope you all are staying warm and having a restful holiday season.

#alaris #devlog

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yuujispinkhair · 1 year ago

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Champagne & Sunshine

You're on vacation with Yuuji, sipping champagne and bathing in the sun. But the drink isn't the only thing you get drunk on. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @bleach-your-panties requested the song "Champagne & Sunshine" by PLVTINUM feat. Tarro.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: 18+, alcohol, smut, dirty talk, oral, praise, creampie. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

"That champagne tastes really good. I could get drunk on this!"

You smile at Yuuji over the rim of the champagne glass you are holding while lounging on the sun terrace of your beach resort. It's your first holiday with Yuuji, and both of you wanted something fancy.

Yuuji's eyes meet yours, sparkling golden, just like the champagne in your glass. A cheeky grin lifts his lips, and you already know he will say something dirty when he leans closer to you.

"Or you could get drunk on my cock, cutie. That drink makes me horny as fuck."

You know it's not just the white wine he is sipping. Yuuji and you have been all over each other since you arrived here. Far away from all the stress of everyday life and from all the people who disturb your alone time. Here in this fancy hotel, you just have to put a "do not disturb" sign on your door, and you can fuck the whole day. A fact that you make good use of.

Even now, here on the sun terrace, you can't keep your fingers off each other. Your hand lazily traces Yuuji's defined abs while drooling over how sexy he looks with all his muscles and tan skin on display. And his large hand keeps straying to your bikini-clad ass, squeezing it and leaning closer to whisper dirty things in your ear, how he wants you bouncing on his cock while he gives you creampie after creampie.

"Let's go to our room, princess. Maybe we'll find a place where we haven't fucked yet."

You have to run a bit to keep up with Yuuji's large steps as he pulls you along in his excitement to get you alone, his large hand wrapped tightly around your smaller one, his red swim trunks already tented with his growing erection, only barely covered by the baseball cap he holds before it.

You chuckle softly as you stumble after your sexy boyfriend, already creaming up at the thought of Yuuji's gorgeous fat cock for you to play with as much as you like.

The moment you enter your hotel room, Yuuji pushes you up against the wall, moaning loudly in your mouth as his lips capture yours in a hungry kiss while he presses his tall, buff body against you, his large hands grabbing your ass and lifting you up so easily as if you weigh nothing.

But you are just as hungry for him, wrapping your legs eagerly around his hips, gasping in delight when you feel Yuuji's hot, hard cock rub against your core through the thin layers of the swimming clothes. His abs and pecs press against your skin, hot and firm, making you want him so bad that you feel dizzy.

Yuuji's kisses taste like white wine and bubblegum, just like himself, sweet but with an underlying naughtiness that drives you insane in the best way. He licks deeply into your mouth, so sweet, so sexy.

You can feel his smile against your mouth when your hands wander over his broad muscular back and down to his firm ass to grab it and squeeze it while you press your body against him, caressing his tongue with yours, rubbing your horny pussy against him as if you are in heat, letting him feel how much you already soaked your bikini panties because of him.

And he moans, his hips bucking against you, always so honest about his attraction to you.

"Fuck, cutie, I can feel how wet you are! Need to see that pretty pussy and kiss it and fuck it and make it all sticky with my cum."

God, you love how shameless he is, how he just says whatever is on his mind, no matter how dirty it is. So in love with you and so horny for you.

"Damn, Yuuji... carry me to the bed, please hurry up, baby! Need your pretty mouth and your pretty cock!"

He answers you with a low moan as he tightens his strong arms around you and carries you towards the bed while you make out with open-mouthed French kisses.

But you never make it to the bed.

Yuuji stumbles over a pair of sneakers lying in the middle of the room, making both of you tumble to the ground, landing on the plush carpet right in front of the large bed.

You scream and laugh breathlessly at getting pressed down by Yuuji's heavy body, looking up at his boyish grin and the sparkle in his golden eyes when he asks,

"You ok, cutie?"

You nod,

"Yeah... you too, baby?"

He doesn't have to answer. His large hands tearing down your bikini top to free your tits is answer enough. His lips wrap around one nipple, sucking on it, making you moan and arch your back.

More kisses land on your tits. Yuuji's hot, velvety tongue laps at your erect nipples while golden eyes look up at you, driving you crazy. When he pulls away, there's a thin thread of spit still connecting his lips and your swollen nipple.

"Fuck, princess, I can't wait anymore. Need to fuck you right here on the floor, baby."

He moans and smiles at the same time as he pushes his red swim trunks down, freeing that wonderful, fat cock, so hard for you that he's leaking pearly pre-cum all over himself.

You barely have time to salivate over the sight in front of you, Yuuji's broad figure, his buff pecs, his flexed abs, and his gorgeous fat cock, before he grabs your bikini bottoms and pulls them down.

His warm lips follow your panties on their way down, kissing down your thighs and your calves, trailing his hot tongue over your skin before he throws the panties to the side and grabs your ass, pulling you towards him with one firm move, making you moan his name at how strong he is.

You sob loudly, tugging on his soft, pink hair, when Yuuji's pretty face presses between your spread legs, kissing and licking your hot wet pussy just like he said he would.

You taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you again a moment later, deep and passionate, as he pushes his fat cock into you with one needy thrust and a loud moan.

Both of you can't hold back, unable to go slow here on the bedroom floor. It's a rough fuck, needy and dirty, both of you meeting each other's thrusts eagerly, moaning unashamedly in between hot kisses. Yuuji snaps his hips almost desperately, fucking you so good and so deep that you see stars anytime his fat cockhead rubs against your sweet spot.

Your fingers dig into the buff muscle of his broad back, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips as if needing him even closer when he is already balls-deep in you, pounding your pussy with his hard, needy thrusts. You can already feel your high approaching, getting fucked out of you by your eager, horny boyfriend, who always knows how to use his cock to make you fall apart.

"Fuck, baby! Yeah, yeah, like that, my sweet girl! Pussy getting so tight, ah ah fuck! Yeah, milk my cock, baby! Wanna give you all my cum!"

You don't know if it's his dirty talk or his fat cockhead pounding your sweet spot, but you cum so hard on Yuuji's gorgeous cock that you scream his name and shake under his muscular body, your pussy milking him so wildly that he cusses and cries out your name just as loud as you did with his.

You still pulse and clench around him as he fills you with his thick, hot cum, pumping you full of it, thread after sticky thread, giving you the creampie he promised you.

His heavy balls slap against your wet pussy, while you tug on his soft pink hair, moaning his name and thanking him for how good he fucked you.

Your lips move slower against each now, the heated kisses turning into a slow makeout session with whispered love confessions while Yuuji is still deep inside you, not caring that his cum is slowly seeping out around his fat cock, making a mess on the hotel carpet. He can clean that later.

"Hmm, that was fucking amazing, cutie. You wanna go back to the sun terrace now?"

You shake your head, tightening your legs around Yuuji's hips, trapping him right there on top of your body, biting your lip cheekily as you look up at your boyfriend.

"No, I don't want to go back yet. Let's take a shower together first, ok baby? Will you give me more, please, Yuu? I'm not drunk enough on your cock yet."

And Yuuji grins at you, pupils dilated and his strong cock already twitching again,

"Fuck... you're so damn fine, baby! Well, in that case, let me make sure you get so much of my cock you will have a hangover tomorrow."

WRITING THIS MADE ME FERAL!! Thank you so much for requesting this song!! Anytime I hear it, I think of dirty scenarios with Yuuji bae, so this was SO much fun to write!! I hope you enjoyed it too!!

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!

#yuuji x reader #yuuji x you #itadori x reader #itadori x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #itadori smut #yuuji smut #yuji x reader #yuji x you #yuji smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #yuuji x y/n #itadori x y/n #yuji x y/n

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2demondogs · 2 months ago

Note

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, eighteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #gender neutral reader #neutralreader #arthur morgan #ask #oneshot #fluff #sfw #rdr2 #reader insert #proposal fic

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junipers-archive · 2 years ago

Text

And They Were Roommates

Word Count: 1k

Includes: Fluff, fluff, some more fluff and a kiss? You confront Spencer about your relationship status after Penelope informs you of everyone's belief of you being more than roommates :)

(Prompt from this challenged by @imagining-in-the-margins)

You were at the coffee shop nearest to the apartment, desperately trying to find a pick me up. It was 6:30am...a new record for you. Seeing as your roommate and best-friend Spencer hadn't alerted you that you guys ran out of coffee at home, you were now standing in what you deem the longest line in the world you'd ever seen for coffee.

Then again it was one of the first times you'd been up this early to see people who actually got up early. It'd only been 10 minutes but you swore if you didn't get your daily caffeine boost soon you'd start to shut down.

The line was moving at snail pace so you decided to see what the problem was, only to catch a Penelope Garcia with 8 coffees in her arms, trying to balance her way out of the crowd.

Fortunately for her, Spencer had introduced you to the team a few months ago after they'd wanted to see where he lived and he was essentially peer-pressured in showing them by Derek. You'd been given a 5-minute notice at the late hour of 11pm and to this day are still making him pay on movie-nights where you got to choose the film.

You were torn between helping Penelope and staying in your spot in line, but seeing as you remembered how kind she had been and she was about to drop all that coffee, you took pity. Rushing over and calling her name,

"Penelope, you need some help there?"

"ah!-oh hi Y/n, sorry you scared me for a moment! And yes please."

You took one of the trays of coffee from her, holding her purse around your other arm. "Not that I mind helping, but why all the coffee?"

"Well" She was now wobbling over to a table that was just freed up by a couple, talking to you while placing her many belongings on it,

"Sometimes, I like to get up really early and get coffee for the team, cause you know the coffee at work sucks and I'm sure Spencer's already alerted you, but someone's been stealing the curate cups from the kitchen!"

You now placed the tray you had been carrying on the table as well,

"No...uh Spencer doesn't exactly talk about his job much, we usually just talk about other stuff"

She looked surprised at this, "Really? I thought he'd be more open about what he does with his girlfriend. But I guess thats just Spencer."

Now it was your turn to be surprised. "I-I'm sorry, did you say girlfriend?"

"Well, I mean yeah, you live together, he talks about you all the time, and when we went over you two just had so much chemistry we all just assumed-" she stopped talking as she saw the growing disbelief on your face, "I-I just- I'm sorry are you not dating?"

You were speechless. Absolutely speechless.

I mean sure you liked Spencer, he was one of your best-friends and you did live together and yea maybe you had feelings for him. But could other people see it too?

I mean, it made sense, now that you thought about it, you two were practically never seen apart, having roomate-movie-nights, going on consistent 'friend-dates', eating almost every meal together and getting each other gifts for holidays, even sometimes falling asleep in each others beds when you both got black-out drunk on occasion...

Were you dating?

Penelope had taken your silence as her cue to leave, gathering her things, but you had another idea, one that wouldn't leave you overthinking for the rest of the day.

"Wait- I- I'll help you! I mean you can't carry this all yourself!"

"Thank you" she smiled " but you're sure you don't have anywhere to be?"

"Not a place in the world." You would just call in sick today, you thought.

On the drive to the BAU as you talked to Penelope who you found was alluringly talkative, you also realized you might not even be able to get into the building. When you asked she waved her hand, shooing away your worries it seemed as she explained that as long as you weren't a spy you'd be fine for staying a couple minutes since she had clearence.

The topic of Spencer didn't come up again.

Once you got there and helped Penelope up to the office you caught sight of your roommate sitting at his desk. Excusing yourself, you began walking over, It was more decorated than you assumed, containing his adorable action figure favorites and small trinkets you'd given him over the years. And as you got closer you even found he had a picture of the two of you posing at a theme park you'd forced him to go to with you.

He saw you before you were closer, standing himself up as well.

"Y/n? What-What're you doing here?"

"Are we dating?"god you needed to get a filter, but you were really curious.

He sputtered at that, which admittedly made you smile, "I-uh-Who-did Garcia?-What?"

By pure instinct you grabbed his face so he had to look at you now, as he had a habit of looking down when nervous.

You asked him once more,

"Doctor Spencer Reid Are you dating me?"

You could feel him blush against your palms as he answered,

"Uhm...do you want me to be dating you?"

You don't know what had gotten into you that morning, but the next thing you did surprised both of you, pulling him closer as his hands circled your waist hesitantly and you kissed him.

It was soft at first, almost gentle in the way the both of you were nervous, but eventually he deepened it, grabbing one side of your face, the other circling your waist completely now as you arms came to rest around his shoulders.

When you both had to finally come up for air you breathed out your more than obvious response, "yes."

And while you both grinning like idiots at one another, Penelope was adamantly taking photos of the two of you for your wedding which she had already informed Spencer was to be on October 31 of next year.

You never even noticed you didn't get your coffee, knowing you were now with the Dr.Spencer Reid was enough of a pick-me-up to last you a lifetime.

Reblogs and Comments appreciated!!

Update: Part 2

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fancfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #please please let these tags work tumblr im begging #junipers-archive

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fatphobiabusters · 26 days ago

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I keep yo-yo dieting as early as age 12. Currently in my mid 20s. The lowest weight I even been is 180. Highest was somewhere in the 200-mid 200s.

And ughhhhh I’m so tired. I’m so tired of the anxiety about food and weight. I keep having periods where I love my body and eat anything I want, but then anytime I accidentally overeat and feel nauseous, I come crashing back down and feel so gross.

It majorly dosnt help that half of my family are fat phobic and food obsession health. Like, a family member literally said multiple times I should get a ED to help me lose weight……Since I can’t metaphorically leave my house, I’m stuck….:idk what to do? It feels like I’m trap in a never ending circle.

This isn't an easy situation, and I bet a lot of people are in this boat with you. I wish your family would listen to your feelings and treat you with compassion. Nobody, including you, should be encouraged to develop an eating disorder, let alone by a member of their own family. You deserve to live a life that doesn't involve being told to abuse your body into temporary thinness.

Fatphobic family members definitely make life as a fat person harder, and that's often elevated during the holidays. Here's some coping mechanisms you can try to help you while interacting with your family:

Find a space you can go to by yourself to cool down while dealing with fatphobic family members. Maybe that's sitting on a porch, taking a walk outside, or even hanging out in your room. Having stuff with you to help you destress while you're cooling down can also be beneficial. This could be headphones for listening to music, a sketchbook for drawing, a stim toy, etc.

If this is a temporary situation, like being at a family member's house for dinner, and you're also with somebody you trust, make a plan with that person for when family members bring up diet culture. A secret word, a tap on the shoulder, a text to their phone that let's them know you want to leave/change the conversation. Even just knowing you have somebody there with you who understands how you're feeling can be helpful.

You can try to change the subject when your family starts talking about weight. You can also do this subtly if you need to by switching to a topic somewhat related to the original conversation. For example, if somebody is talking about exercising in a diet culture manner, you could ask if they go on walks and where their favorite place to walk is. If somebody is talking about their diet recipes, start talking about a new recipe you've tried recently that your family members "have to try." If a family member says they've gained or lost weight, ask them what else has been happening in their life. And if changing the subject doesn't work, there's hopefully the options of putting on headphones or leaving the space.

Surround yourself with as much fat positivity as you can. That's easier said than done, but even a few fat positive posts may help you turn around a bad day. You could also try creating some of your own fat positive posts/works, if that sounds fun to you.

If this is possible, you can set goals for what you need to do to leave your family home and live away from your family. Mark those goals on a piece of paper so you can check them off. Every time you get closer to your goal of living away from your family, that progress will likely help you have the strength to deal with your family members for the time being. These goals can be saving a certain amount of money, finishing the next semester of school, finding a better job, etc.

These are just a few ideas off the top of my head. Any followers who also have tips, please let us know in the notes.

As for accidentally overeating and feeling nauseous, I relate to that not being a great feeling. Try to ride out that feeling of discomfort. Tell yourself that the feeling will pass whether you act on that feeling or not. As somebody who knows a lot about OCD recovery, you have to teach yourself to sit with the discomfort (or the uncertainty, in the case of OCD) and let that discomfort pass. It will take time to get better at this, but you deserve food no matter what.

-Mod Worthy

#fatphobia #internalized fatphobia #diet culture #ask #cutepastelstarsailor #Mod Worthy

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demilypyro · 1 year ago

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Okay since this doesn't seem to want to go away here's me addressing every single "allegation" that I've heard about. I hope to have at least given a good explanation where the horrible things being said about me came from, and why I consider them either just totally not true or badly misconstrued. Some of my friends have recommended I don't say anything at all, but I've always preferred openness and honesty, so I hope that's appreciated.

I understand that some people will still dislike me even though the things being said about me are not true. That's fine. I don't need everyone to like me, but it's when I'm being consistently harassed and lied about that it interferes with my mental health and ability to work. So I'm gonna try and end things with this.

"She's racist"

From what I can tell this is about one time when I said I keep my interest in anime to myself around new people. I do this because showing you're a Huge Fucking Nerd right off the bat can make a bad impression. I could have said the same thing about Star Trek or comic books, I just happened to be talking about anime in that moment. Someone seems to have misconstrued this as me finding Japanese culture something shameful and lesser than other cultures?... Which I would call a total willful misinterpretation. The rest of this seems to stem just from being Dutch, because the Netherlands is a country that has a problem with xenophobia. This is true, but uhhh I'm mixed myself so I'm pretty well aware of that, and I obviously don't support our infamous "blackface holiday." Just because I live here doesn't mean I agree with everything this country does, be that historically or in the modern day.

"She's friends with racists/misogynists/transphobes"

The only thing I can guess this is about is when I was mutuals with a user called porko-rosso at least 5 years ago and didn't really believe it when people told me they were a bigot. I haven't interacted with this user in over 4 years but people still claim we're like best friends, which was never true in the first place, we just knew a lot of the same people. Most of the resentment from the people who repeatedly spread these rumours about me seems to have started here. So for the record: no, I am not friends with any racists, misogynists or transphobes.

"She thinks she's better than other trans women because she passes better"

This is just not true. This idea seems to pop up just whenever I post about enjoying the benefits of HRT or surgery, but most recently this was misconstrued from a post where I said being trans is about being yourself as much as possible. Since this was in response to someone saying that me trying to pass is "erasing my identity", people thought I meant trying to pass is the same as being good at being trans, which was not what I meant, but some people didn't seem to want to believe me when I clarified. My apologies for the misunderstanding I guess, but that's all it was. So no, I do not hate people who don't pass as well as I do, nor do I think all trans people should be transitioning medically, and I resent the implication.

"She has a secret discord server where she makes fun of pictures of other trans women and calls them slurs"

I had absolutely no clue what this was about when I first heard it. I was sent screenshots that supposedly prove this but all they show is me being rude about someone's appearance one time in january of 2022. I actually thought these were faked because I don't remember this happening and the things said confused me, but one of my friends says she found it was in her server, where she had showed a picture of someone and asked everyone present (mostly other trans women) if they were hot. Apparently I did not think they were hot. So yes, I did insult someone's appearance back in january 2022, but it was an isolated incident. Frankly even I find my remarks in these screenshots distasteful, I don't know what I was on when I wrote that stuff. I'm sorry to that person specifically. What I said has weighed heavily on me and I apologize for it. It's not something I approve of, and don't intend to repeat that mistake. Still, to say it means I hate trans women and I love to make fun of them in my secret discord server and call them slurs is just... a super-villain level of exaggeration. I didn't even know about the word that was named as an example. It's not true.

"She's often rude"

I can't deny this one. Autism gonna autism. I've seen many therapists, doctors, experts, what have you, to try and help me with this, but it seems my particular brand of autistic in combination with the cultural differences between mine and other countries just really often ends with my foot in my mouth when I speak English. I apologize! I have never meant to personally offend anyone. It just keeps happening and I can't stop it from happening.

If after reading all this, you still consider me bad enough to hate my guts, I can't stop you, but I wanted to have at least had my say. I swear that everything in this post is the honest truth as I understand it, and that I've never acted with purposeful malicious intent.

#and yes feel free to reblog and share #demilypyro #demily pyro

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tlbodine · 2 months ago

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Tips for Talking to Conservative Friends & Family

In the wake of the election, with the holidays around the corner, some of you may be wondering how to deal with friends, family members, coworkers, etc. who voted for Trump and/or who espouse his policies.

This guide is by no means meant to be authoritative and won't work in every circumstance. I accept no responsibility for what happens if you use any scripts and it goes horribly awry. But I did want to share some of my personal experience in this vein, as someone with a great deal of conservative people in my life whom I generally love and respect and would like to maintain a civil relationship with (and, hopefully, bring them back to center if not my side). I've had decent luck with these strategies in the past.

First: Only engage if it is safe to do so.

Do not get into political discussions that might endanger your job, your living situation, your access to care, or your physical and emotional safety. However, do engage if you are able to do so safely and your doing so might help someone in a more vulnerable position. What the fuck is privilege for if not using it to protect people?

Second: Identify your goal.

Do you want to de-escalate a situation so someone can get out of immediate danger? Do you want to establish a boundary? Or do you want to actually attempt to convert someone over to your side? Each goal has different tactics. Be realistic with yourself about what you're going to accomplish. If you do not have a close relationship with the person, you are extremely unlikely to change their mind about anything, and it's frankly not worth the effort. Let someone who is close to them do that work. De-escalate, set a boundary if possible, and gtfo.

But if you do have a close relationship -- if this person generally likes and respects you -- then you might have a shot at challenging their views.

We're going to assume a scenario where you're dealing with people you know and who you can generally count on not to be immediately aggressive. Somebody else will be better-equipped to talk about strategies for dealing with protests and people on the street etc.

De-Escalation & Setting Boundaries

This is your first line of defense against family members acting shitty. If someone tries to start a debate, makes an off-color joke or comment, or is otherwise behaving inappropriately, try:

Let's not talk about this over dinner.

I don't think this is appropriate conversation right now.

That's an awful thing to say.

I don't understand that joke, can you explain why it's funny?

I'm sorry, I won't listen to any more of this (leave the room)

That's not okay.

What you want to do here is make an appeal to correct standards of behavior. You want them to feel ashamed for acting out of line. In order to make this work, it is essential that you:

Remain calm and keep an even, light-but-firm tone of voice. It needs to be clear that you're not joking around, but you also cannot sound upset. (Yes, this is really hard. I'm sorry.) Practice your very best "I'm not angry, just disappointed" tone for maximum effect. If you can manage it, eye contact and a neutral or even slightly concerned or sad expression will make it even better.

Avoid insulting or attacking them. Do not say things like, "Stop being an asshole" or "I can't believe you're acting like this" no matter how much you want to. Do not say "That's racist/sexist/ableist/homophobic." These types of replies, no matter how accurate, will make them defensive, and defensive people shut down and stop listening. If you come off as angry, that gives THEM permission to be angry right back. But if you come off as the normal one, them getting angry makes them look like a dick.

Do not laugh. Avoid the urge to chuckle nervously or joke it off. It WILL feel uncomfortable. It WILL be awkward as fuck. That's the point. They are misbehaving by violating a standard of appropriate behavior, and you are setting down a boundary. The awkwardness will fade and, frankly, they'll often start behaving better pretty much immediately.

Follow through on your consequences. If you say, "Dad, if you continue to bring up Trump, I will not call you anymore," you have to stick to it. Holding firm to your boundaries is HARD AS FUCK but if you don't do it then all you do is teach them that they can wear you down. Think of it like training a dog. Consistency is key.

You're not going to change anybody's closely-held beliefs with this strategy, but you WILL make a case for what is allowable around you. If you model this behavior, and encourage and embolden other people you know to do the same, you might be surprised. A lot of times, people's inappropriate behavior is a boundary-testing mechanism -- they tell the racist joke because they want to see if they can get away with it -- and if you shut them down, they often just...stop. Or at least retreat into their little hole to talk to fellow gremlins instead of you.

Challenging Views, Changing Minds

Okay. You actually want to engage them in conversation. You want to challenge their views and help them change their opinion. How do you do that?

Again, it's essential that you remain calm. If you can't have this discussion without getting heated, it's not the time to have the discussion. If they start to get heated, be prepared to de-escalate and walk away: "I cannot continue this conversation with you right now. Let's talk again some other time when we've cooled off."

But if you can keep calm, here is what actually works (sometimes):

Listen to them. No, really. Hear them out.

Help them feel heard by empathizing with them. Repeat back your understanding of what they said and how that must feel.

Remind them that for other people, THEY are feeling xyz emotion, too.

Ask them questions. Instead of telling them they're wrong, ask questions that will lead them to draw that conclusion themselves.

Make appeals to emotion rather than starting with facts and logic. You'll know what kind of emotion to draw on because you've been listening to them and empathizing. Hint: almost always, bigotry (at the personal level) is rooted in fear.

If this is going well, THEN you can start citing some sources, statistics, and facts.

Invite them to share THEIR sources with you.

Thank them for doing such a good job at being calm and discussing this with you, reaffirm your close relationship, and encourage them to come talk to you about this at any time. It's very possible that you are the only person they might feel safe bringing this stuff up to now and you want to keep that channel of communication open.

Very often (not always, or often), conservative-leaning individuals are people who lack the education or knowledge that left-leaning people do. They may be accustomed to being insulted, yelled at, and made to feel stupid. They are conditioned to believe that folks on the left are smug, holier-than-thou, stuck-up assholes. Whatever you can do to poke a hole in that perception will simultaneously make it easier to talk to them AND cause them to question that rhetoric the next time they encounter it.

This tactic won't always work. It probably won't work at all the first conversation. It's something you'll have to chip away at over time. But sometimes, it's worth it.

And if it's not? Well. As they say.

#talking to conservatives #surviving thanksgiving #communication tips #us politics #election 2024

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the-boy-meets-evil · 11 months ago

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today of all days | vernon

(the lull of the new year never really comes for you, which is fine. it's better to be busy. this year, you're a little too busy planning something else to worry much about valentine's day. It's never been your favorite holiday anyway. but, could your boyfriend have forgotten in entirely?)

pairing: vernon x afab!reader genre: est. relationship, non-idol!au | smut, slight angst, fluff rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~4.6k warnings: mentions of food, there's a little angst, but it's mostly miscommunication, kissing, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (don't do this without talking about it), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, i think that's it

a/n: happy valentine's day to the always wonderful, absolutely amazing @wonwussy 💕 it's been so much fun to get to write this for you. i hope you enjoy it! this is part of @svthub's cupid for you valentine's exchange organized by my bby @wongyuseokie (who is very amazing and also made the banner & divider). happy valentine's (and carat day)!

There’s usually kind of a lull at the beginning of the new year. Like everyone decides that after the holidays, you’re due for a break. People try to work on their resolutions, businesses expect to see the drop off in their sales. Everything just feels more peaceful. It’s that calm before the storm when everything picks up again.

Not for you, though. At least not this year. February brings Valentine’s Day and your boyfriend’s birthday. You don’t really care that much about the former. It’s nice to have someone to celebrate with, and you’re sure the two of you will do something, but it’s nothing crazy. As long as you have him and a quiet night in, you’re good. It’s the latter of the two things that’s keeping an otherwise peaceful time from being peaceful.

Here’s the thing. Vernon isn’t one to make a big deal of his birthday, never has been. He feels similar to the way you feel about Valentine’s Day. He likes to do something to mark the passing of time, definitely enjoys the presents, but doesn’t feel the need for it to be some huge thing. It’s a little difficult, too, because he’s got another friend with the same birthday. For the years that they’ve been friends, they’ve always tried to work it around each other. Seokmin is a year older and feels a little more strongly about birthdays as something that should be celebrated. Somehow, that led to this year. A coordinated birthday for the two of them with all their friends there to celebrate the both of them. Two different cakes, two different contributions to the menu, and twice as many people to coordinate with.

To say it’s been a bit of a headache is an understatement.

You love Vernon. He’s been your person for over two years and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. You also love to plan things for other people as a way to show them how much you care. This has just been a bigger undertaking than you imagined. Especially when you have to keep the party under wraps. Vernon knows you’re doing something with a group of friends. He thinks it’s only a small group. But, he’ll appreciate it all the same. Just like he seems to appreciate everything that you do.

“Babe,” Vernon calls from the living room. He’s in the middle of gaming with Wonwoo, connected by their headsets.

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Wonwoo says that I’m gonna get in trouble for not planning some big thing for Valentine’s,” Vernon tells you.

You can hear the protests from Vernon even through the headset, which makes you chuckle. “As long as we get to cook something together and have a night in, I’m good.”

“See?” Vernon says triumphantly. There’s a pause where Wonwoo must be asking something. “Oh, yeah, I’m definitely getting a gift.”

“What?” you ask with clear surprise. Gifts were not part of the plan for this year.

“It’s nothing big, but I’ve got the perfect idea,” Vernon says with a familiar look of mischief.

“Oh no, no you are not,” you counter. He bursts out in a cackle. “Vernon, you are not getting strawberry flavored condoms for Valentine’s Day. We don’t even use condoms.”

The laugh through Vernon’s headset is just as loud. You would probably be embarrassed if it was anyone else, but Wonwoo has been in both of your lives long enough that most barriers have been erased.

“No, don’t worry, that wasn’t actually it. I have a plan,” Vernon says and you watch him suspiciously. “Promise!”

You decide to let it lie for the time being. At least partly, because you don’t want to keep standing there while he’s playing video games. Partly because you knew it meant he would be distracted enough that you could sneak off to the bedroom to make a call about the party.

Jeonghan had not been your first choice for a party planning committee because sometimes it’s hard to get an actual thought out of him. You’re not always sure what he’s thinking. But, he’s Seokmin’s best friend and one of the best schemers you know. Thankfully, these days he really only uses his talents for good. Well, it would be thankfully if you didn’t harbor a grudge over a prank he played when you first met.

Miraculously, Jeonghan is also free and willing to do some final planning. It’s that stage where the final group of friends get clued in. Some friends, who shall remain nameless, had to find out much closer to the day. They just couldn’t be trusted to keep the secret. You’re actually impressed that you’ve managed to keep it from Vernon and Seokmin. You confirm that Vernon doesn’t know. He would have absolutely told you. Jeonghan also confirms that Seokmin doesn’t know because he can’t keep a secret either.

When you wander back out into the living room, Vernon is still very engrossed in his game. You kiss the top of his head, watch the small smile with his eyes trained on the screen, and plop down at the other end of the couch. You prop your computer on your lap and reach for your headphones when Vernon turns to you between matches.

“Wanna order in for dinner?” he asks and you smile.

“Oh from that place around the corner?” you suggest. Vernon rolls his eyes without any real annoyance. It’s your favorite place.

“Whatever you want, babe,” he says and turns back to the game.

It’s easy, not only because you like it, but also since you know what he orders there. He’s kind of a creature of habit. Maybe you are too, since you always want to order from the same place. It’ll give you a chance to watch a few things while waiting as well as giving Vernon the chance to keep playing with Wonwoo. The gaming is always seamless for them after years of working together.

When the food arrives, Vernon finishes his last game so that he can eat with you. It’s one of the things you love about him. He’s so thoughtful with things like that. When you first moved in with him, you were a little worried. You had never lived with a partner and weren’t sure how to navigate it. As it turns out, with the right person, it’s pretty easy. You leave each other to do your own things and then come together after.

“You’re sure you’re okay with a quiet Valentine’s Day?” he asks when you curl into him after dinner.

“It’s a little late if I’m not considering it’s in two days,” you say with a light laugh.

“I’m being serious,” he says.

“I’m good, Vernon. I’ve got you and we’re going to make something together,” you say.

“I promise not to burn down the kitchen,” he assures you.

“You’ve been getting a lot better,” you say. “Plus, we also have dinner this weekend for your birthday.”

“We don’t really have to do anything crazy for my birthday, you know. It’s so close to Valentine’s Day and…” Vernon trails off before you press a kiss to his lips.

“I love to celebrate your birthday. It’s another year of you and everyone should be thankful for that,” you say.

Valentine’s morning comes bright and early. Sun streams through the cracks in your shades. Not quite enough to wake you up, but enough for you to know that it’s morning. You smile and stretch out, thinking it’s probably earlier than you need to be up. As you’re considering waking Vernon up to celebrate the day when you register an emptiness.

You’re the only one in the bed.

You open your eyes and confirm what you already knew. Vernon isn’t in bed with you. The door to the bathroom is open and the light is off, so he’s not in there either. Although you prefer to lay in bed to wake up, curiosity gets the better of you and propels you out of bed to the living room. The entire apartment is quiet, still. Well, still apart from your cat that’s weaving between your legs. He doesn’t seem hungry, so you think he’s just wondering what you’re doing. It’s odd that he would have left the apartment so early in the morning.

Padding back to the bedroom, you find your phone on the nightstand, plugged in like it always is. When you unlock it, you have a myriad of messages and notifications. Conspicuously absent, though, is a message from your boyfriend. There’s nothing to tell you where he is or went or could be. Which is odd, yes, but mostly it just makes you a little irritated. Sure, you don’t ever want to make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day. It’s plenty to spend the day with someone you love that loves you back.

Vernon can be a little spacy at times. It’s not his best quality, but it’s also impossibly endearing. Maybe it’s because you know how much he’s thinking about when he’s got that look like he’s never had a thought in his life. It also makes him really chill, which matches you well. He doesn’t always have to be going or doing something. But, he’ll just as happily go out and be your shield because he’s much more of a people person than you are.

All this to say, there’s part of you that wonders if the holiday just slipped his mind. It’s not like it’s a big deal, you said as much to him. But, you still expect something. Even if it’s just to know where he is so early in the morning. You hate that you wonder if he forgot because you trust Vernon with your life. He can get distracted sometimes. One time, he got so caught up in a project that he entirely forgot dinner plans with his friends.

The mature thing to do would be to send him a text and ask where he is or even to wish him a happy Valentine’s Day. You’re not feeling especially mature, though. And you feel very justified in that annoyance because he’s the one that left early. He should be the one to let you know where he is. It should not be on you.

Trying to push the thoughts of Vernon out of your mind, you get ready for the day. Opt to leave earlier so you can buy yourself something to eat and some coffee on the way. By the time you reach work, you’re even more irritated rather than calmer. Every radio station was playing love songs that fit the genre. Every host seems to want to know what people’s plans are for the day. The coffee shop by your office was decorated in red, white, and pink hearts with all sorts of specials for the day. When you head into the office, it only gets worse. People have flowers on their desks, are exchanging happy wishes, talking about how they can’t wait to get out of work for their plans. Some people are spending it with partners, others are spending it with friends. Either way, everyone seems to have plans that are better than whatever will be waiting when you get home. Why did Vernon have to pick today of all days to be forgetful?

Your work best friend stops by your desk with the typical cup of coffee mid morning and stops in his tracks when he senses your mood.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Minho asks.

“Wow, hello to you too,” you respond when you take the coffee from him.

“You seem like you’re in a bad mood,” he says.

“Maybe I am,” you answer.

“But, it’s Valentine’s Day and you have, like, the most perfect boyfriend. What’s there to be mad about?” he asks.

“Can’t be the most perfect boyfriend if he was gone before I woke up and didn’t even text me to say anything,” you say with all the irritation you feel.

That catches Minho’s attention. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I woke up and the bed was empty. No note. No text. Just empty,” you say.

“And you haven’t heard from him?” Minho presses.

“No,” you say, only to be distracted by your phone lighting up.

“Looks like a message from him,” he observes.

You quickly glance at your phone, hating how eager you feel just to hear something from him. It’s disappointing, though.

Vernon: sorry that i wasn’t there when you woke up, i had a last minute errand Vernon: when do you think you’ll be home from work?

Instead of telling Minho what happened, you just hand your phone over to him. His grimace says all you need to know. It’s not an overreaction.

“That’s…all he’s said to you today?” he asks.

“You can scroll to see,” you say because he still has your phone.

“No thanks,” Minho says with a laugh. “I don’t wanna accidentally see something.”

“It was one time,” you say, snatching your phone back with an eye roll.

“And I’m still scarred,” he says. “What are you going to say back?”

“Nothing,” you say.

“But…” he starts.

“No, I’m not saying anything. I know I’m chill about this holiday, but to not even say anything? And what errand does he have to do at 7 in the morning?” you ask, more irritated that you had been.

“If you want to hold onto a grudge, who am I to stop you?” he asks when he stands. “Let me know if he manages to get out of the dog house.”

With that comment, he’s off to his own desk. It usually goes something like this every day anyway. Minho shows up with coffee for you, looking to see what you have to say. Even though he’s the one that has the best gossip. Sometimes, he just wants someone to share it with. It’s a nice reprieve from your irritation. One that he repeats in the afternoon, which is a break from the norm. Unfortunately, the irritation that settles in his wake is worse than before he stops by.

You consider staying at work late when the end of the day comes. It’s not like you’re in a rush to head home. There’s also a part of you that wants to punish Vernon for forgetting a holiday that you don’t even care that much about. (Okay, maybe you care, but that’s the whole point of having someone you love that also loves you to spend it with.) Staying late by yourself feels even worse when nobody else from the office is. Everyone seems to be out the door as soon as the day ends. And, despite not answering any of Vernon’s messages, you know he’s home. At least it’ll give you the chance to figure out how to approach this.

The drive home gives you a chance to run through all sorts of conversations in your head. You’re still stewing, a bit, because you’re upset at how the day went. But, you’re also preparing yourself to have a potentially difficult conversation with Vernon. Of course, he’ll be receptive to your feelings. He always is. It’s more that you’re frustrated it happened in the first place and don’t want your feelings to seem invalid.

All of that goes out the window the second you step into your apartment. The lights are low, so it takes your eyes a second to adjust. When they do, however, you see that Vernon has transformed your living room into a scene from your favorite video game. It’s like stepping into another world. Every little detail is so carefully thought out that you can’t even appreciate it all in one look. Your feet carry you forward to examine the small things. The ones that very obviously took extra effort. You’re so busy appreciating it all that you don’t even notice Vernon coming in from the kitchen.

“I know we said no presents, but I wanted to do this anyway. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, pulling you out of your head.

“How did you…” you ask, unable to even finish the question.

“I found someone who had this whole set for their ex and wanted to get rid of it. He was practically giving it away, but I had to go pick it up like 2 hours away,” he says.

You look around and can tell the level of care that went into creating this. “That’s why you were gone when I woke up?”

“Yeah, I left you notes on breakfast in the fridge and coffee in the microwave, but I guess you didn’t see those,” he says.

“I’m so sorry,” you say and don’t even realize that tears started to fall until Vernon’s pulling you into his arms.

“It’s fine, what are you sorry for?” he asks, holding you tightly.

“I spent the whole day thinking you forgot Valentine’s Day and being mad. That’s why I didn’t answer your texts,” you say.

“I just figured it was a busy day and you were excited to get home,” Vernon says.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeat.

He pulls back so that he can look down at you. Wipes the tears gently away from under your eyes. “It’s fine, babe. I’m not upset at you when I can be forgetful.”

Nobody has ever done something like this for you. You can’t imagine how long it took to transform the living room this way. There aren’t any words you can think of to express how much it all means to you, so you just press your lips against his. Throw your hands around his neck to keep him close to you. He’s surprised, at least for a second, before he pulls you in tighter against him and kisses you back. It’s not the time to talk, at least not right now. How could you have thought this man would ever forget?

“Can I show you what I was thinking about before I realized you were already gone this morning?” you ask when you break the kiss.

“Should I be concerned?” he asks.

“Just trust me,” you say and pull him into the bedroom with you.

Any hesitations that he may have had disappear when you resume kissing him. Your fingers nimbly undo his pants so that you can slide them down his legs. The clothes come flying off in a flurry from there, far quicker than usual for the two of you. There’s just an urgency given the way the day went. Neither of you seems to want to let your lips leave the other. As Vernon kisses down your neck, you take the opportunity to push him back onto the bed.

It’s the first time you take a second and you appreciate how beautiful he is laying on the bed. The lean lines of his muscle, his eyes hungry as they drink your body in, the way his cock rests heavily on his stomach. You need to do something, though. You nudge his legs apart as you settle yourself onto the bed between them.

“You don’t have to…” he starts and you’re quick to cut him off.

“I want to,” you insist.

And you do. You take his cock into your hand and lick a stripe up it. It’s not enough, though, so you spit into your hand so you can run it along his length. He shudders under your touch. Once you wrap your lips around his tip, you pull a groan out of him. For just a second, his eyes close and his head lolls back on the pillow. It’s so pretty to watch him from this angle. To know that this man, usually so relaxed and chill, is so wound up under your power. It’s not long before he’s watching you, though. Letting out a stream of praise for how good you look with his cock in your mouth. How it turns him on, how you know just how to use your tongue. You hollow out your cheeks and it’s more than he can take.

Vernon pulls you up so that he can kiss you, so hard that you lose your breath. You’re a little off balance, which makes it easier for him to flip your positions. Now he’s the one between your legs. That same fervor is back when he spreads your lips so he can lick up your entrance. He’s always been insanely good with his mouth. It’s actually unfair. When his thumb circles your clit, you see stars for a second and arch your back into his mouth. All you can do is watch as he works his tongue in and out of your cunt. The thumb on your clit is bordering on too much sensation. Makes it hard for you to watch him even though you love the sight of him between your legs.

“Fuck, Vernon, I need more,” you whine.

“I should make you draw it out,” he says, still so close to your pussy that you can feel his breath.

“Please, Vernon, please,” you beg. You know it’ll make him cave.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he answers.

He runs his fingers through your folds before sliding one into your pussy. The moment his mouth finds your clit, he inserts a second finger and pumps into you at a punishing pace. It’s everything you can do not to squirm under his efforts. As it is, the words coming out of your mouth are entirely incoherent. What you want to say is that he’s a god with both his mouth and his fingers. That he knows just how to fit you where you need him most. That nobody has ever felt as good as him.

What you manage to yell out: “Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna come.”

Vernon hums against your clit and it’s all too much. Your release is nearly instant. You don’t even notice how he guides you through your high or that he doesn’t remove his fingers until your body stops shaking. Miss the way he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing you. Not that you would mind. His lips wander down your neck to your chest, kissing all the way. He loves your breasts, loves the soft skin there. Loves to nip and watch the way you react. Most of all, he loves to leave marks there. Even if you won’t let him mark you where other people can see (at least, not often), you’ll always let him mark up your chest. He roughly sucks a mark into your sensitive skin and you squirm.

Any other time, you would let him enjoy it. Let him take his time. Not today. You need to feel him. Need to have that connection with him. He seems to realize it too.

“Roll over on your side,” he directs.

You hasten to do exactly what he asks. He slides right in behind you and you bring your leg forward a little so that it’ll be easier on him. One of his arms slides under your neck. The other lines his cock up at your entrance. He presses lightly, at least at first, giving you time before he’s fully inside you. No matter how many times you and Vernon fuck, you’ll never be fully prepared for the way he feels. It’s the most perfect type of full. Just enough of a stretch without it being overwhelming.

It’s only a second before he starts moving, with his hand on your stomach. Not too fast. Just enough to give you the relief that you need. Not enough that it’s going to push you over the edge again. You’re still sensitive, though. The connectedness of your bodies is exactly what you need. It’s intimate in all the ways that you couldn’t tell him that you needed. But, he knows. Of course, he knows. This man knows you better than anyone else, a fact clear in how he thrusts into you.

Vernon’s free hand moves from your stomach up to your breast. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and you groan out. That’s the other best part about your relationship with Vernon. There isn’t a need for constant communication during sex. He knows what you like and you know what he likes. He knows how to interrupt your moans and your pleas. Knows when to pick up the pace.

It’s entirely too soon when you feel your second orgasm coming on. “I’m close, oh my god.”

“I know, baby, just come for me,” Vernon urges as he continues to thrust hard into you.

Despite that, you try to hold out because you know that he’s not there yet, can feel it in the way he fucks into you. It’s a losing battle, though, and you end up coming even harder than the first time. Vernon fucks through your high before slowing down to give you a minute to breath. Always so considerate of what you need.

“It’s okay, keep going,” you urge.

He doesn’t have to ask if you’re sure, he can feel it in the way you clench around him. Makes him groan as he moves again. You’re still a little out of it from the two orgasms, so it doesn’t register just how sensitive you are. You tilt your head so that you can kiss him. Catch all his groans with your lips. Partly since you know how much the intimacy of it all means to him. Know that it’ll send him over the edge.

A minute later it does just that. Even though you feel spent, he manages to pull a third orgasm out of you with his own. There’s a moment when you’re both catching your breath that neither of you move or even say anything. It gives you a moment to remember just how much you love him. Vernon slides out of you carefully and you roll over so that you can face him.

“I love you,” he says with a soft smile, fingers gently moving a few strands of hair away from your face.

“I love you, too,” you say.

“Do we have to get up right now?” he asks.

You shake your head and let him pull you into his body. His arms feel strong and safe around you. Like home, which is what he’s always been for you. From entirely too early into the relationship. A feeling that’s only grown in the time you’ve been together.

“I’m sorry,” you say again.

“You don’t need to be, “ Vernon assures you. “I’m forgetful sometimes and you’ve been busy lately. I figured this was a good way to say thank you for everything you do.”

“What? The sex?” you joke.

He huffs into your hair. “I take it all back.”

You pull back to look at him. “It was perfect. Almost as perfect as you.”

A light blush creeps up. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” you whisper into his skin when you cuddle back against his chest.

“We still have to cook dinner,” he says.

“Let’s just order something. I don’t want to move from this spot right now,” you say.

“We can stay as long as you want,” he says.

Forever, you think. That’s how long you want to stay with him. It’s never felt more real than it does right now. You think, by the way he holds you, that maybe he wants to be with you forever too. It may have gotten out to a rocky start, but it ends up being the most perfect Valentine’s Day of your life.

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gyllenhaalstories · 17 days ago

Text

OH, THE MISTLETOE — JERRY BRINSON 🎄

summary: you have been invited to your friend's work party for christmas and she played santa's little helper to match you with her coworker.

warnings: i tried to keep the story accurate to its setting in the 1960s but i'm sure there are anachronisms, mention of divorce, alcohol & food, mostly fluff, smut, (pussy eating & fingering). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4070

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: in the original script, jerry works at, and i quote, 'a mid-range sporting good store' so i kept this detail rather than what was shown in the movie, it suits my man better. this is what my brain chose to write after months of not even forming a coherent sentence... so ambitious and exhausting. i lost count of how many things i googled to make sure they existed in 1960s (and how many photos of jello salads i looked at). i suggest listening to vintage oldies to enjoy this fic to the fullest. ❤️💚 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Take those cookies to the table, will you? I'll drop our coats off at the back of the store. I cleaned it well before the end of my shift yesterday, so don't worry about dust and grime. I'm not quite sure what type of dust golf clubs can leave behind anyway..." Your friend spoke, mostly to herself, as she held on to the platter of baked goods while you removed your winter coat.

After a swift exchange, you watched her head towards the back of the sporting good store while you followed the path of a few other people who brought food for the potluck.

Jerry emerged from the back store where he, too, had put away his winter clothes. He stopped by the mirrors to neatly fix his hair. He arranged his clothes too, he did not look all that bad for a man who had spent a solid hour shovelling snow off the side walk before the guests arrived.

In order to convince you to attend the Christmas party with her, your friend made you a promise. She swore she would stay with you until she found someone else you would get along with, forbidding you from looking sad and lonely all by yourself in a corner of the store until she would be ready to leave. She could be quite convincing, your friend.

But she also lived with her head up in the clouds, you doubted you would find friendship in a group of employees and their partners who decided to hang out together one last time before the Holiday break.

Jerry quickly greeted his colleague, this bubbly young lady who always had a topic to babble about. His poor attempt at small talk quickly took a turn when he felt dragged by the arm in the opposite direction of where he was headed. This colleague of his briefly explained that she had someone he absolutely needed to meet.

"This right here is none other than Jerry Brinson. He's the best vendor we've ever had at the store. But I already told you that, haven't I?"

Your eyes widened in surprise when your friend came back with a mysterious man on her arm. You fought a giggle when you noticed that this same man seized the first opportunity he saw to withdraw himself from the forced embrace. You stretched out your hand to shake his. Jerry's grip was firm, it conveyed a level of confidence that did not match the hesitant smile on his face.

"I wouldn't say that, you're good too." Jerry replied with a light shrug.

"Nonsense." Your friend brushed off his not-so heartfelt praise before she shamelessly continued her sales pitch. "Jerry could sell snow boots to a polar bear if one ever rang the bell on the counter... Oh! Speaking of which, did you read it in the papers?" Jerry and you shook your heads simultaneously. "Apparently they've spotted one of those up north, near the big river."

Again, Jerry and you seemed connected. You both shot her an incredulous look. "I don't think there are polar bears in Montana."

Jerry timidly nodded his head in agreement. If there were bears around, surely they were not white. And surely they would not walk in a random store right in the middle of Great Falls.

Your friend sighed at your ungratefulness. She tried so hard to set you up with good company and there you were, ruining her attempts. She gave you an obvious glance of encouragement, which you met with an annoyed eye roll. Right when you thought things could not get more awkward, your friend excused herself when she spotted her fiancé entering the already crowded store.

You stood alone with Jerry. The conversation immediately fell flat. You both exchanged shy and avoidant looks while everybody else mingled cheerfully. Jerry took a moment to study you, from head to toe. You would have caught his eye, even without the intervention of the self-proclaimed cupid's assistant he called his coworker. The manager's daughter, in fact. After a while, he broke the heavy silence. "I don't know who I'm waitin' to impress here." Jerry chuckled, visibly no less uncomfortable than when your friend carried the entire discussion.

"For what it's worth, there's no need to impress her. You can't out talk a chatterbox." You glanced over your shoulder, the social butterfly you called your friend now paraded her partner left and right. You turned your attention back to the man before you.

"Wasn't talking about her." Jerry replied bluntly. "But it's good to know she's always like that. Talking is great, it gets you to connect with the client. It makes it easier to sell what they want rather than what they need, but she..." He marked a pause while he racked his brain in the search of polite terms. "She's got a lot of enthusiasm."

"Spoken like a true salesman."

"What can I say? You got the employee of the month for the twenty-something time in a row standing right in front of ya."

You arched a playful brow. "Only twenty times?"

"Oh, yeah, that's when the boss started this gimmick."

Your genuine laugh made his shoulders relax. You could tell he was not one to brag, he made that clear when he did not allow your friend to stroke his ego by listing out all of his exploits.

"Wanna grab a bite?" He suggested when he noticed that several other guests already lined up by the tables.

You happily agreed. You waited in the queue, filled your plate with a few bites of the most appetizing dishes then you walked back to your initial spot. You looked over your shoulder, expecting to see Jerry following you, but he was taking his sweet time. When he finally walked back, he balanced a precarious plate of food in one hand and a beer in the other all the while he chewed on something. He looked like a chipmunk with full cheeks, you laughed at the imagery.

"You know... If I gotta sell one thing tonight, it's those cookies." He pointed at the folding tables by the wall.

On the red table cloth, no dish was left untouched. Not even the several variations of Jell-O salads that left you wondering how many of those concoctions were too many for one single party. You distinguished a familiar serving platter that looked rather empty.

"Have you tried the cookies? You gotta try them." Jerry set his beer and his plate down on the nearest surface he could find, which turned out to be a pile of shoe boxes. He reached a hand behind your back, with the intention to guide you to the array of miscellaneous meals that composed the potluck. But he quickly withdrew himself. "Wait."

You nodded. This time, you watched him make his way through the crowd as if he was playing hockey on ice. He glided expertly and he avoided the attempts at pointless chitchat from friends and colleagues.

Jerry returned with a pyramid of cookies on a paper napkin. "I could've eaten the whole platter, they're delicious."

"I know." You spoke before Jerry even had time to hand you the bigger half of the cookie he just broke in two. He looked up from the napkin, his head slightly tilted. "I baked them."

"You did?" He watched you take a bite, you did not eat with as much appetite as he did. He assumed you were already aware of your delicious talent. "Gotta have to teach me." For a second, you noticed the way his gaze appeared vacant. His mind drifted to the thought of his ex-wife, Jeannette, when she revealed she had been teaching that old Miller guy how to swim. The mere comparison between this party he shared with a lovely stranger and what happened before his divorce left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You frowned, the desire to inquire about this sudden change in his expression tickled your mind but you decided to stay quiet.

Jerry put on a small grin, picking up where he left off. "I'd like the recipe, if you don't mind sharing it. I'm sure my son would love it a lot more than the cake I baked for his birthday last year. Christ, that was a disaster." To put it briefly, he was glad he knew how to extinguish a fire.

You both chuckled, Jerry went on to explain how he swapped the sugar and salt, amongst other mistakes. You listened intently to more of his stories about his son. He loved his child dearly, that you could tell. You could also tell that your friend had lied to you. While boasting about her handsome colleague, she made a point in explaining how he seemed like a quiet man unless a conversation about sports sparked up. You witnessed the complete opposite.

Eventually, the two of you decided to sit down on one of the benches by the shoe racks. The anecdotes started to blend together, to the point that even Jerry realized that he was becoming bothersome. "You still sure I can't outdo your friend? 'Cause it feels like I've been talking your ears off."

You grabbed the last cookie he had brought out to share together. You nodded at Jerry when he insisted that you needed to let him know if he got you bored out of your mind with his stories about his wild life. In the distance, you caught a glimpse of your friend's approving smile that beamed brighter than the Christmas lights hung around the store for this special occasion.

*~*~*

"There you are."

You turned around to look at Jerry who leaned against the door frame. Above his head, you noticed that somebody had hung a garland of mistletoe.

"Thought you had sneaked out on me." Jerry's chin pointed in direction of the pile of coats. He then apologized for getting distracted by a conversation with his boss. "Wasn't far from the truth, huh?"

You shook your head and finally found your coat, you put it on. "It's getting late, better make it home before I have to walk in two feet of snow." Jerry echoed your laughter.

He nodded understandingly when you explained that your friend promised you a ride home, but in the end she insisted on staying at the party with her fiancé. Jerry expected a question that never came. "I'll drive you."

You quickly declined his offer. You did not live too far away, you did not want to bother him. Excuses.

"A pretty dress like this wasn't made for a hike in the snow." More excuses.

You tilted your head and, with a deep sigh, you accepted.

"Stubborn." You heard him whisper the word when you brushed shoulders as Jerry reached through the pile to dig up his coat. His keys fell from the pocket, so he bent down to pick them up from the floor. "Those shoes weren't made for walking outside either, darlin'."

You conceded, you would not make it the whole way back home in such an outfit.

"May I interest you in a brand new item we received? It just got invented by a smart fella from Maine. They're called ski boots. They're boots... For skiing."

"Revolutionary." You faked a dramatic gasp, successfully pulling another chuckle out of Jerry. "I'll have to visit the store again, then."

"I work five days a week, miss. I'll be happy to assist." With a wink, he offered you his arm to hold.

You glanced up at the garland of mistletoe one last time. Jerry put on his coat without bothering to zip it closed and he led the way to the exit. When the door shut behind the two of you, the infernal chattering noise finally quieted down. Jerry and you exchanged a knowing look with a mutual appreciation to for the newfound tranquility outside of the party.

*~*~*

Jerry parked in front of your apartment building. He hurried to the passenger door that he held open for you. He expected an invitation that did come this time.

You stood by the car, locking eyes with Jerry for a moment. "A handsome face like yours wasn't made to freeze out in the cold now, was it?" You smiled as you began to walk towards the door of your apartment.

The sound of Jerry's footsteps in the snow confirmed he followed you closely. You exchanged another longing look while you unlocked the front door of your apartment. You let him walk in first, he quickly untied his shoes and he placed them besides yours on the entrance mat. He helped you with your coat that he hung according to your instructions.

You noticed that Jerry was chuckling. "What is it?" You asked with a confused frown.

"It's real quiet in here." He admitted and you wholeheartedly agreed.

You brushed shoulders again as you made your way to the radio in your living room. You tuned in to your favourite radio station. It played Christmas music, the perfect ambience to calmly extend the party that started at the store. "Better?"

"Better indeed, darlin'." Jerry flashed you a smile that made you feel warm all over. Silence crept in the room, except this time it was much more comfortable than when you first met at the beginning of the party. Still, Jerry insisted on breaking it. "Smells really good in here." He could discern the scent of freshly baked goods, he assumed it was the remnants of the cookies, but there was something else to it.

"I made some mulled wine earlier, I haven't cleaned the pot yet. It's such a hassle." You shrugged before your eyes widened in surprise at your own realization. "There's some left, I could warm it up for us. How does that sound?"

Jerry's enthusiastic nod of approval brought the two of you in your small kitchen. He tried to stay out of your way, using your fridge as an arm rest while he watched you grab a ladle and two mismatched mugs.

You stirred the spiced wine slowly, waiting for it to come to temperature while Jerry entertained you with more anecdotes.

Until he switched it up with questions that encouraged you to tell your own stories too. He sipped the wine from the mug you handed him and he listened intently to every detail about your life that you shared.

You set your beverage down to finally tackle the dishes. Before your hands met with the water running from the faucet, you were gently nudged away.

"Let me help." Jerry left you no time or space to be stubborn or to turn him down, he put on the pair of rubber gloves he saw on the counter. You both laughed at the ridiculous sight while he scrubbed the pot clean.

You poured more dish soap so he could scrape off the spices that had gotten stuck. Soon enough, Jerry was done and he removed the gloves before setting the pot on top of the fridge. You placed your hand on his arm, your thumb gently caressed the soft material of his blue polo shirt. "You know you didn't have to do all that." Keeping you company, driving you home, now helping you with these trivial tasks... "I appreciate it."

He pressed his lips together, his head dipped in acknowledgement of your sentiment. Jerry's eyes flicked from yours down to your lips and back up again. "I don't usually do that."

"What, wash dishes?" You returned with a chuckle.

"No, that I do a lot of." He admitted. All these years of being a father and yet he could not comprehend how many dirty dishes one child could leave behind. He blinked away the thoughts of a sink full of plates and glasses. "I meant... Kiss." He leaned closer to you. "I don't kiss a lady on the first date."

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, your own gaze fell to his mouth. "Oh, that's too bad." His defined cupid's bow faded when he smiled at you.

"I could make an exception, y'know."

You hummed in response, locking eyes with him for a moment. You had only just met, yet it felt like you truly knew Jerry with all the talking you both did this evening. Ultimately, your friend's plan to set you up with her handsome colleague had worked. You would figure out a way to let her know at another time. You had much more pressing plans...

Jerry pressed his lips on yours. His eyes closed, his heart skipped a beat.

The kiss was tender, but it quickly lost its hesitation when you erased the remaining distance between the two of you.

He held your face in his hands to kiss you a second time.

The two of you slowly deepened the kiss, with Jerry's head tilting to the side to let your tongues dance together.

His hands fell to your shoulders and then they caressed down your body, following your curves. He guided your hands to rest on the small of his back before he placed his own on your hips.

Jerry gently pressed you against the counter. His forehead met yours while he tried to catch his breath.

Your mouth found his again and again, until he left a trail of kisses from your lips to your jawline and all the way down to your neck.

Jerry sprinkled open-mouthed kisses on your skin, as he inhaled the soft scent of your perfume. He pulled away to lock eyes with yours, searching for an ounce of hesitation or perhaps a drop of regret for the passion growing speedily between the two of you.

All he found in your beautiful eyes was a reflection of desire that shined in his own gaze. You leaned your head in his hand while he held your face again. You nodded softly.

He reached for your hand that he brought to his lips for a kiss. You watched his grin grow on his face as he leaned down. All the way down until his knees met the floor. He let out a huff of air. "I'm not as young and fresh as I used to be."

You rolled your eyes and laughed at his joke, as if he was a frail old man.

He popped the collar button of his polo open and he looked at you. The dimmed light of the kitchen made his eyes glimmer. His fingertips caressed up your legs, from your ankles to your knees. Jerry's eyebrow arched on his forehead, creating a wrinkle you so badly wanted to kiss.

You tilted your head, confused by his unspoken request.

He answered all of your questions when he started kissing his way up the inside of your thighs. His hands splayed on your skin, gently grabbing at the supple flesh.

"Wait," you caused Jerry to pull back in a quick motion. "Let me just..." You brushed all of his sudden worries away when you tried to pull your tights down. You struggled awkwardly. "Sorry."

He chuckled with you and gently pushed your hands out of the way. "Let me do it." Jerry insisted. He concluded the struggle was not worth the wait. "Do you have more than one pair?"

"Yeah, why?" You replied, stumped by his question. Then, you heard the noise of fabric ripping and your eyes widened.

"That's why." Jerry answered bluntly, tickling the now exposed skin of your thighs with his warm breath. He kissed his way to your covered core, he grunted at the sight of your red and lacy underwear. He gave you an apologetic glance before he ripped the delicate material too.

You parted your legs to give him more space.

"It feels like the mistletoe hung up at the party was a good omen, doesn't it?" He murmured. He pressed the lightest and softest kisses possible on your core while you giggled at his words. "May I?" He asked for permission another time.

"Yes please." Chills ran through you when he kept going, kissing you more and more hungrily. If what he said was true, that he did not kiss on the first date, it made this moment all the more special.

Jerry explored you gently with kisses and licks that sufficed to get you worked up.

You bucked your hips against his face, chasing more. You mewled in bliss whenever his tongue or his nose would bump against your clit.

Jerry understood that you craved more than the sweet attention he gave you, and he happily obliged. There was something about you, about the evening you unexpectedly spent together, that made his heart skip a beat. The discussions and the longing stares you shared would have made it nearly impossible to walk out of your apartment without getting a taste of you.

You gripped on the edge of the counter with your left hand, determined to stay upright although your knees were turning into jelly. Your other hand found his head and, after ruffling his hair a bit, you guided him.

Jerry moaned against you, the vibrations reverberated through your entire body. He loved the way you showed him how to make you feel good. He lapped at your essence, he tried to commit to memory the ways you liked to be pleased.

You pulled on his hair a bit, without caring much about the way your skirt swallowed him whole. You looked down to watch his legs shift as he tried to find a more stable position.

His tongue worked through your folds, circled your clit, dipped at your entrance. Jerry's hands found your thighs again so he could pull on the skin to allow him to devour you like a starved man. It had been so long, too long since he had done something of the sort. He could only wish you two would meet again. In the meantime, Jerry was desperate to make you tip over the edge.

You let out a song of moans, breathlessly chanting his name. You felt the muscles of your lower stomach tighten as the pleasure built up. You were so close...

Jerry replaced his tongue with his thumb, so he could catch his breath. The featherlight strokes on your clit made you shiver. Jerry dove back under your dress, flattening his tongue to lick over your folds and his finger too.

You let your head fall back when Jerry made you come on his tongue. Jerry's moans and yours blended into a beautiful symphony as he continued until your legs were shaking like a leaf.

He finished with a kiss on your clit, so you could feel his lips curling into a proud smile.

Both of your hands relaxed when the tidal waves of your orgasm became calm again. Rather than gripping on his hair, you ran your fingers through them. "Come here..." You said, the tone of your voice sounded shaky. Your chest heaved with each breath you took.

Jerry's head emerged from under your skirt, you chuckled at the sight. His hair looked a mess, totally dishevelled. The hair pommade he used to comb his hair over evidently could not sustain such a blissful moment.

A frown flashed on his forehead, his glistening lips formed a small pout. "What? Is everything alright?" He sounded a tad bit concerned, afraid that he did something wrong. Although, judging by the way your body reacted to him and by the moans you sung at his ear... Jerry could tell that that everything was indeed alright.

You nodded slowly while you caught your breath. "More than alright." You reached a hand to smooth his hair. Your hand caressed along his cheek until your fingertip tilted his chin up.

Jerry's gaze met yours, his hands stroked up and down your legs. You barely had time to catch a glimpse of his dimples that his head disappeared under your dress again. He left a trail of kisses on the inside of your thighs that grew gentler and gentler as he approached your core again.

"You're still trying to impress me?" You asked, before a small gasp escaped you as his mouth met your more sensitive place.

Rather than answering with words, Jerry's laughter resonated through you like the jolly music that still played on the radio. He lapped at your essence once more, inviting you to impress him with how much you could take.

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