#blurb in the morning about this

[dipperscavern]

i have such a bad headache rn & i just want robb stark to take care of me :(

[96kurtswrld]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚🦋˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡

thinking about steve and plus size reader....

thinking about how steve can't keep his hands off of you, can't stop touching you and kissing you all over, feeling your warmth and your curves beneath his lips and his hands. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy. he loves it. he loves you.

it starts as something simple really. he comes up behind you while you're working away in the kitchen. gentle hands on your hips, his face in the crook of your neck. a deep inhale as he loosens his grip on your hips and runs his hands up your sides and then down again, lowering to your waist. a low groan against your skin, a small "god. you're beautiful, honey" that vibrates down your spine. gentle nipping kisses on your neck as his other hand presses against your lower tummy, hand spread out as wide as he can get it so he can feel all of you under his palm. the hand on your waist is gripping tight. his kisses travel up from the side of your neck to your soft jawline, soft soft soft lips against the skin. "my beautiful girl" murmured against your cheek, lips pressed there next. his hands continue to roam, one hand slipping up your shirt to feel your tummy without the barrier, soft fingers tracing your stretchmarks gently. he traces each one from the bottom curve of your belly all the way up to the underside of your breast, his hand resting there for a moment. "you're all mine, hm?" he murmurs into your ear, pressing his body against your back. his body is warm against yours, but it's not helping the cold shivers that run through you as his hands touch you. "all for me" he growls, his grip tightening on you, getting a soft exhale of his name out of your mouth. his grip becomes possessive on you, his hand running back down your stomach sloooow so slow, until both of his hands can grip your plush hips, rocking you back into his body. "y'so pretty,"

[front-facing-pokemon]

[butchcarmy]

i think carmy has the potential to be a passionate listener. after all, you listen to him when he’s got a million things to say about his incredibly niche interests.

maybe you’ve gone into great detail about the stylistic choices of ur fav movie or tv show. eventually, when you end up watching it together, at one point he says smthn along the lines of “oh i see what you mean with that”. like, lets goooo!!!! ur not talking to a wall!!

i’d personally love to make him to try and play my favorite video game with me after i’ve lore dumped for hours. (i betchya he’d be awful at it). maybe he’s absorbed a bit of that info tho, and he’d point stuff out while we play.

that would make me embarrassingly giddy.

hiii i'm that guy that can go into great length about films if you get me started. or anything i'm obsessed with at the moment really. 

you don't listen to him talk about food (or in general) because you feel obligated. you do it because you love him, and he listens to you because he loves you, too. he genuinely cares about the things you care about. carmy's a sweet boy!

“If you look for it, you'll see that circles are a motif throughout the whole movie.” You're watching your favorite movie, cuddled with him on the couch. He makes an affirmative noise. “I'll tell you more when we're done watching, too.”

“I'd like that.” He looks at you expectantly, and when you give him a confused look, he says, “You can keep talking if you want, y'know.”

“I know, I just…” You shrivel into the cushions behind you. Carmy's arm that's tucked around your shoulders brings you closer to him. “I don't wanna annoy you.”

“You could never annoy me talking about the things you care about.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead, and you make a pleased noise. “I think the color stuff you were saying earlier is cool. The red and green, right? I can't stop seeing it now that you pointed it out.”

“Mm, yeah,” you say, like the fact he was actually paying attention to you doesn't make you wanna roll around with giddy. “It really tells you the whole story without saying it.”

“I have some predictions, then,” Carmy mutters, eyes focused on the tv. You could just kiss him (which you do).

[stolenslumber]

[8:30pm] (sjy)

PAIRING: sim jaeyun x gender neutral reader GENRE: established relationship, pure and simple fluff WARNINGS: kissing, suggestive content WORD COUNT: ~800

Jungwon opens the door with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, mumbling some approximation of "He's in his room" around it.

You throw him a thumbs-up and slip down the hallway to Jake's room, trying your best not to disturb any of the sleeping boys knocked out on various surfaces in the dorm. When you enter Jake's room, the air conditioning is on at full blast, making you shiver in your thin top.

The room is dark save for the glow-in-the-dark stars you had spent an afternoon sticking on the ceiling together, so it takes a second for your eyes to adjust and make out the shape of your boyfriend curled up in bed, cocooned in a black hoodie and the quilt your mom had made for him last year. Jake sleeps with one arm underneath his head, the other curved around some invisible cavity. You have to suppress the urge to coo at the sight— even in slumber, he makes space for you.

Jet lag has clearly hit him hard, and even though you had been ready to order delivery and watch a movie with him, just looking at him makes you want to sleep, too. Decision made, you waste no time in slotting yourself into the space he left for you and carefully rearranging the quilt so that it covers you both.

Jake grunts but shifts automatically to accommodate you, mumbling something incomprehensible. You pat the arm now laying over your waist soothingly, and soon his breathing evens back out, asleep once more. You're quick to follow, lulled by the rhythmic whooshing of the air conditioning and the steady pulse in his wrist against your fingertips.

When Jake wakes up some indeterminable amount of time later, the first thing he notices is the numbness of his arm, pinned underneath his head when he'd accidentally fallen asleep waiting for you to arrive. The next thing he notices is warm skin underneath his palm, from where his hand had slipped under your top while you were both asleep.

He's so, so happy to see you, though he feels bad about falling asleep before you even got here. The past few weeks have been exhausting and anxiety-ridden, and the sight of you feels like a balm to his soul.

He's smiling dopily at the back of your neck, so he doesn't notice when you wake up, and then he's startled when you twist in his hold to face him, greeting him with a slightly hoarse, "Hi, baby."

"Hey," he whispers back, leaning towards you slightly to plant a kiss on your forehead. Still half-asleep, his mouth runs sweet nonsense without really thinking about it. "I thought I dreamed of you coming in, but you're really here."

You release a laugh in the form of a puff of air and tug on the strings of his hoodie to keep him close to you. "Of course I'm really here; where else would I be?"

His response is automatic. "In my dreams, angel."

You snort and push against his chest a little. "Sick line, dude, how often does that work for you?"

He whines and brings you back even closer, nudging his nose into your neck and nipping at your pulse point, just because he likes the way it makes you gasp and squirm in his arms. "Seems to be working pretty well for me right now, don't you think?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you've got the rizz, or whatever." You try to match his playful tone, but the hitch in your breath when his mouth starts wandering across your collarbones gives you away.

He's stopped by his own yawn, though, and then he's smiling apologetically at you. "Sorry I fell asleep, by the way. You wanna watch that movie now, or— ohhhh." Interrupted by his own yawn, again.

You do coo this time, enamored by the way his eyes blink half-open and his hair falls messily across his forehead. "Nah, we can always do that another time. I know you're going to be hungry later, though, so I scheduled the delivery to come in an hour. Go back to sleep, yeah? I'll wake you when it's here."

He beams at you in delight. "You're perfect, and I love you."

"'Cause I got you pizza? You're kinda easy, you know." You pat his cheek gently, your actions contrasting your teasing words.

He giggles, and then he turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand. "Only for you."

You hum softly, reaching up to run your fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. "Love you, too. Sweet dreams, Jaeyun."

He nods against your hand and leaves one last kiss on the tip of your nose before closing his eyes. "See you there, darling."

[fin.]

[tetzoro]

happy tuesday my friendz ! 🤍💫 it’s a perfect day to be gentle and kind with yourself ! me and all of your blorbos are cheering you on hehe ꒰⸝ ྀི �� ꒳ ` ꒱⸝ෆ have a magnificent day !!

[archived-diegesis]

Flickering lights on a summer night

The smoke in your lungs and fire surrounding you is an ever persistent reminder of what you are, the only question is do you accept it ?

She remembers the feeling of a gun in her hands and laughter in her lungs. The feeling of companions and the jokes and stories shared between herself and the man that has changed her life- of a ship with the remnants of a dying world and a fight that was unwinnable but ever continuing.

Are they memories or her dying recollection? It's hard to know, hard to ask, for who could she ask ?

Dose she hunt to keep his memory alive or does she hunt to continue to fight for that's all she knows ?

This thoughts are an ever persistent reminder that deep down she has yet to find her complete answers.

Maybe one day she will

[senditcolton]

for your headcanon night: slow mornings with andrei now that he’s in recovery/rehab from knee surgery

oh you know me, i am a sucker for soft, slow mornings. and i think that we are all missing our russian prince drei.

it might have been a little selfish of you to say but you loved waking up next to Andrei every morning

of course, you hated what lead him here. hated that he had to sit out for the rest of the season and watch his team fight for the dream without him.

but every single time you woke up and saw his hair splayed out on the pillow, his long eyelashes against his cheeks, the silver of his necklace a sharp contrast to his warm morning-sun-kissed skin...

yeah, it was selfish. but damn, you couldn't deny that you missed this.

every morning started this way. but each morning was different after you woke up.

sometimes you just watch him sleep, wanting him to get as much rest as he needed after giving his all for the past six months.

sometimes you woke him up with gentle kisses around his face, watching his eyes flutter open and he smiles and kisses you back.

(sometimes those mornings get a little more steamy, making up for lost time - so to speak. but sometimes it just stays like that - lazy kisses, encased in each other's arms.)

sometimes you sneak out of bed and prepare breakfast for the two of you. you always plan it on being breakfast in bed, but sometimes Andrei wakes up while you're in the process and pulls you back into the sheets while the coffee is brewing.

but on those days when Andrei doesn't wake, you go all out, pulling out all the stops. you carry it in on a tray and place it on your bedside table before gently nudging him awake.

and you sneak back under the covers, pressed together as you share the food you've prepared, going full cheesy and feeding each other, laughing.

and you might have added a little bit of champagne into the glasses of orange juice because, why the hell not?

but whatever way the morning starts, you're happy. because you get to spend all day with your best friend. what could be more perfect than that?

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

Given the long running interactions/mutual status i've got on here with a couple comic based blogs... (Armin, Avi, i'm lookin at you and the bois~♡) part of me lowkey feels like maybe i should attempt to do some proper verse info for stuff like that-- But at the same time, i know pretty much jack about a lot of X-men/other comics based stuff lmao--

[13beachesxx]

wanna go back to 2011 when i was lusting after cillian murphy and maybe 1 or 2 minor english indie alt band singers. life was simpler then

[thatjadedhotmess]

🧍‍♀️

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol.I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

vol. II

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

vol. II

[cherrygirlfriend]

bsf!rafe waking up with morning wood

warnings: smut (mdni) maybe somnophilia if you squint i guess? morning wood, me trying something new bc i came up with this random blurb i might try out writing other blurbs like this??? so if you have any ideas or pairings you want me to write for pls lmk because as much as i love writing +2k word fics it's fun to rewind by writing shorter stuff too

wherever rafe went, you followed; and even though it annoyed some of his friends, they didn't dare to say anything about it to rafe, because the one time they did, he got so angry they thought they were getting their asses kicked.

everywhere, also happened to include his bed. it had started after you had accidentally passed out on his bed from how much you drank, and he didn't care if you were there or not, he was sleeping in his own bed. now, it had gotten to the point where you couldn't sleep without him, and vice versa.

but you weren't a couple, of course not. rafe wasn't one for relationships, and you were just his friend since childhood, and even if he fucked you into the mattress a couple of times per week, or the fact that he never allowed any other girl to be in his bed, or that he thought of you whenever he hooked up with someone, it was just friendship.

"come on, wake up pretty girl..." he mumbled into your shoulder as you started stirring awake, rafe holding up one of your thighs up slightly as his hand rubbed his hard cock against your panty-clad pussy.

"come on, rafe..." you mumbled sleepily, and the blonde pressed a small, warm kiss on your shoulder over the fabric of his t-shirt. "why'd you wake me up? can't you see that 'm tired..."

"princess.. i need you..."

"rafe, we already went three rounds yesterday..."

"please, baby..." rafe mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your neck, the action causing shivers to go down your spine, and you could feel your panties starting to get wet, sticking to your puffy folds. "i'll do anything... just need you so much right now..."

you looked at him with half-lidded eyes as he pressed lazy kisses on your neck, "anything?"

"anything for you, princess. including murder."

"will you buy me those vivienne westwood earrings i want?"

"hell, i'll get a matching necklace."

and that's how you ended up with your best friend on top of you, pounding into your already sore pussy from the night before, your face pressed against the sheet as you let out moans that got muffled by the pillow, a handful of your hair around his fist as you closed your eyes in pleasure, your fists gripping the sheets to try and anchor yourself as he spoke in a low tone with every thrust "such a good girl for me... you're mine... this pussy's all mine... no one's gonna fuck this pretty pussy like i do..."

yeah. just friendship.

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire

summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: short fics (blurbs?) characters: leona, floyd, jade, vil additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.

"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"

Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"

"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."

The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.

"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"

"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"

Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.

"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"

It's eight in the morning after another disappointing attempt at rest, and now you can't even sleep in. Damn visitors.

You throw open the front door.

"What? What could you possibly- wh- Leona?"

The housewarden smirks. He looks a little too proud of himself for this early in the morning...

"A little wolfie told me you weren't sleeping well. Lucky for you, that's my specialty. Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, letting himself in and making himself comfortable on the couch in the foyer.

He pats the spot next to him.

"Listen..." you say. "I don't know what you heard, but I'm fine."

"Don't be proud. I don't pity you, I just... owe you. Now get your butt over here, yeah?"

Leona isn't so scary when he's asleep. He's more like... the world's largest pillow. Of course, you're at risk of being smothered until you crawl into a better position, but once you're on top, he's surprisingly warm and comfortable.

You can tell you're being watched before you hear anything.

And you think you might just know wh-

"Shrimpyyy!"

For two boys so tall, the tweels are awfully quiet. Especially when it comes to "surprising" you in random places. This time: the hall.

Floyd pulls you into a bone-crushing hug while Jade watches from behind, smiling subtly.

When he finally lets you down, you're dizzy. (Though, at this point, you'll take whatever physical touch you can get).

"Shrimpyyy, why didn't you tell us you were lonely? We had to squeeze it outta Spade," Floyd pouts.

"His face makes fascinating expressions when he's afraid," Jade says, merrily.

Before you can answer, Floyd's already got you under his arm (seriously? Where do they find the strength?) and is heading straight towards the hall of mirrors.

You already know there's no getting out of this one...

Floyd is, unsurprisingly, all over, from leaning his whole body weight against you to lying across your lap, to biting your shoulder (in his sleep...?) Oh, and he drools, too.

Jade sits on your other side, one hand holding yours, the other leafing through an almanac from twenty years ago.

You're almost hesitant to admit just how nice it really is.

"And nothing else has worked?" Vil says, throwing open the door to your bedroom with no regard for a "hello" or, "how are you?"

You blink. "...Hello to you, too. May I ask what you're talking about?"

He storms inside, standing over you with his hands on his hips.

"Just that I overheard Epel Felmier asking my vice housewarden if he would be willing to satisfy your need for physical affection. You've been struggling? With sleep? And you didn't think to come to me, first?"

He almost sounds... offended that you didn't.

"...Well... I wasn't making a big deal about it,"

"So, no teas, no vitamins, no pills- nothing has helped?"

You shake your head. He sighs.

"Perhaps it is purely psychological... very well. Get up. I hope you don't toss and turn much, I'm a light sleeper,"

Vil is completely still when he sleeps. No tossing, no turning, no drooling, no snoring. He also insists on sleeping on his back, you, clinging to his side, and a single arm around you. Just as elegant as when he's awake. He'd be a true sleeping beauty if not for the mumbles of nonsense that come from him every few minutes. You swear you can make out your own name, once or twice or three times...

He is warm nonetheless, and his mumbles and idle stroking of his fingers on your waist is enough to satisfy you for a night of good sleep.

[theworldsforgottenboy]

Here’s an article I found that explains just how cuckoo (get it? Birds?) her character in the birds is for people who don’t want to go out and watch it just cause a pretty lady is in it. Tumblr loves batshit insane women, right? I watched the birds only recently but I can definitely say shes one of my favorite old movie characters, and if it wasn’t for Tippi it wouldn’t have hit as hard

Melanie Daniels, patron saint of committing to the bit, I’m in love with you

Propaganda

Tippi Hedren (The Birds)— Those eyes are so expressive and sly, and her cheekbones are fantastic! I might adore Hitchcock’s work but I will NEVER forgive him for his treatment of her and his sabotaging of her career, when she should have been one of the premier leading ladies of the decade

Shirley Jones (The Music Man, Oklahoma, Carousel)— My genuine gay awakening was when she sings about swearing off men surrounded by women in their undergarments (in the musical Oklahoma). She has a sweet, wholesome face that makes me want to live out my cottagecore dreams with her.

This is round 1 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]

Shirley Jones propaganda:

Okay, yes, I'm nominating her purely for The Music Man. She can dance, her singing is incredible, and she's my favorite fictional librarian! And she was Miss Pittsburgh in 1952, which counts for something, right?

Gorgeous and what a voice! the american Julie Andrews

Just the most wholesome woman in show bizz, was in some of the best musicals of the 50s.

Darling soprano of Golden Age movie musicals! She's charming in Oklahoma!, absolutely heartbreaking in Carousel, and such a wonderful Marion the librarian. She has such a lovely presence and a very sweet voice!

Tippi Hedren propaganda:

This beautiful lady was woman enough to ruin her career rebuffing advances by Hitchcock. Also the mother of Melanie Griffith and grandmother of Dakota Johnson.

[devil-in-hiding]

In regards to the sundress blurb for “on the run”, I could see the reader doing some task outside while all 4 boys are sitting at the window watching just straight up oogling. Little comments being shared back and forth like “I think the red dress is my favourite so far” “nah the navy one is definitely the best, maximum cleavage”

oh totally, they’re favorite pass time is ogling you as you just do simple tasks

also 100% have favorite outfits that you wear

Price is the biggest dog when it comes to your dresses, if he could just drop to his knees and press his face to your cunt, he would. It is by the will of God that this man doesn’t flip your dresses up every second of the day, just a peak of your panties gets him leaking

Gaz loves your cut off shorts, watching the way they ride up as you walk, giving him the perfect view of your ass jiggling, pulling tight any time you bend over, he knows he could tear those things off with his bare hands (would meanly give you a wedgie just to hear the punched out whine you make. he’s so pretty but so mean)

Soap is a dog for just about anything you wear, but he’s especially weak for when you “accidentally” end up in one of their shirts, it doesn’t even matter if it’s actually Soap’s. Seeing you in one of their jackets or t-shirts, smelling like them gets his blood pumping. Glued himself to you in the mornings when you’re wearing HIS shirt, trying to imprint his scent on you

Ghost is a simple man. He just wants to bunch those damn nightgowns up over your tits and leave his mark. The rare nights that you join them in their room for shitty cable, clad in only your nightgown he just about makes his palms bleed to keep himself in check. The way they hug you, the older one’s stretching taunt over your chest, giving him a glimpse of your pebbled nipples from the cold air