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femme-xx-fatale · 1 year
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Ludwig Bemelmans - "In Rain" from Madeline (1939)
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femme-xx-fatale · 1 year
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Coca-Cola Girl
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Request: Could I deviate from the kisses post just a little and request something short with “giggling/laughing kisses” please? (@sugarfreecapsicle​) 
Warning(s): Suggestive elements
Word Count: Approx. 750
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A Coca-Cola love, that’s what she is — all fizzy sweet and bubbles on his tongue. Kisses on the front step and swallowing tender sighs. Sleeps late on Saturday mornings but Bucky meets her by the dimestore, paycheque jangling in his pocket and ready to spend. A bottle between them, and a burger to share. 
His girl with her cherry dress and her movie star smile. Scarlet kisses and he calls her pretty names. Coos them into the bend of her neck, makes her shiver with his hands. 
He’ll marry her. 
When he’s good and solid. Got a lock on a steadier job, a man’s job. A husband’s job. Nice apartment, save up for a house. Give her those things she wants but doesn’t ask for, because she’s too damn sweet and the leaner years have taught them both to make do with not much. 
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femme-xx-fatale · 1 year
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i know i consented to donate my organs but by god theres nothing salvageable in my body sorry guys
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femme-xx-fatale · 2 years
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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Frank Sinatra in Young at Heart (1954) dir. Gordon Douglas
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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imagine this: a bucky barnes fic where he brings you flowers n shit but you're used to being used and treated poorly so you ask him why he's doing all that and has been for months and he's like,, because i love you..?
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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Ok girlies time for our prescription 1-2 hour walk, imagine we r all in line like Madeline
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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Tom Holland in Esquire (March 2021)
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲
bucky barnes + flowers moodboard
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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Moon and fences, summer dawn.
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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Carrie Fisher and Mark Hamill, late 70’s
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femme-xx-fatale · 3 years
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Just Hold Me For Now
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of self harm, depression, attempted suicide, poor body image, and swearing.
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: I haven't published any fanfics in literally years, but I've really been inspired to start writing again lately, so constructive criticism is welcome but please be kind!! I'm still quite rusty haha <33 Also, I would love to take writing requests :))
Also, my intention is not to romanticize depression, self harm, etc., I have genuinely tried to write this is a way that doesn't glorify any of that, but having gone through a similar experience, this was very healing to write.
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You were standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, tears dripping down your cheeks as you examined your reflection in the glass. You were wearing a pair of black, Nike shorts that stopped at your upper thighs, and an oversized, grey tee shirt that had definitely belonged to your boyfriend at one point. Your hair was thrown up into a messy bun, and your skin felt especially clean and soft, mainly due to the fact that you had just finished a long shower.
One detail about you, however, stood out from the rest. Long, deep scars covered some parts of your body, and god did you hate them. The way they looked running up your arms and thighs like steps on a ladder disgusted you, and brought old feelings of shame and regret up to the surface once again. How could anyone even love you?
The scars were old, you hadn't cut yourself for a few months now. It had been long enough, in fact, that though they had once seemed forever red and angry, they were now turning white with age. That didn't change the fact that they were horrible reminders of dark times, reminders you couldn't possibly get rid of.
As you looked at those dreadful scars, you remembered vividly the day that your boyfriend, Peter Parker, had demanded that you never hurt yourself again. You had been sitting in a bed at the hospital, with Peter crying and begging you to never hurt yourself again as he held you close to him. He had held you so tightly it seemed to you that he was afraid of you slipping away forever, even if the worst had already been avoided. The night before you had landed in the sterile hospital room, he had found you passed out in this very room, in a puddle of your own blood. The blood stains on the carpet came out, but it still hurt to look at the carpet, knowing where you were that night. Before then, he hadn't known you struggled with self-harm, and he was stunned at the news. He was terrified to loose the love of his life. He almost did, honestly. If he had taken even a few minutes longer to find you, then you would've slipped away forever. But he was really your superhero, and he saved you that night.
He had always told you that night would never leave his memory. You guessed that finding you like that, not even knowing you were unhappy, must've been horrible for him, and a pang of guilt hit you in the chest. You definitely weren't thinking about cutting again now, but the sight of the irreversible scars was depressing, and the embarrassment and shame of it all definitely wasn't going away anytime soon. Even though some of your close friends and family knew about your trip to the hospital, and must've assumed you had scars, you still always wore long sleeves and pants in front of them. Even with Tom you felt shy having him be able to see them, but you tried not to worry too much about it with him. Sometimes, you couldn't help getting eaten up with insecurity over it, though.
As you tried to calm all of the insecurities within your mind, your crying slowed, leaving you looking slightly disheveled due to your outburst of tears. You slowly felt the raised lines on your left arm, your fingertips being overly delicate, because you remembered exactly how much they used to hurt.
Suddenly, you heard the sound of your bedroom window being swung open, breaking through your thoughts, Instinctively, you reached for a hoodie that was crumpled up in the chair next to you. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough, and the person entered the room before you could hide your arms.
"Y/N?" Peter asked awkwardly, somehow sensing that this was possibly a bad time. He'd gotten into the habit of coming in through your bedroom window, as your parents didn't exactly enjoy the idea of your boyfriend spending late nights with you.
Before you could even speak, his eyes drifted towards your uncovered arms, so you crossed them awkwardly across your chest. "Shit, Peter! You scared me!" You yelled, kicking him lightly on the shin with your foot.
"I didn't mean to scare you..." he mumbled awkwardly, eyes still glued to your forearms, but eventually traveling up to your face. You knew he noticed you'd been crying. How could he not, with your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes? He hesitated for a minute before saying anything, but eventually pointed out the obvious.
"Were you crying?" He asked, and you sighed, knowing he wouldn't let you lie your way out of this one.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Peter, you'll be surprised to hear this, but actually, its none of your business," you replied sassily, catching a glimpse of your red eyes and tear stained cheeks in the mirror as you spoke.
"Drop the attitude, I'm only trying to help, Y/N," He reminded you, not unkindly, but seriously. "Let me be here for you, please baby."
"I'm just upset," you relented after a few seconds of silence, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.
"As if I hadn't guessed that," Peter replied, rolling his eyes a little. "Let me see your arms a minute." The second he said that, you crossed your arms around yourself even more tightly.
"Well, they're right here," you muttered.
"Can you cooperate and actually hold them out for me so I don't have to make you?" He asked, even though you knew full well that if your answer was 'no', he would leave it at that. Even though he didn't always act like it, he did respect you completely. Normally, you loved his persistence and sassy attitude, but today, it was much less appreciated. You hesitated a moment before finally holding them out to him. He grabbed your hands up in his bigger, stronger ones carefully, rubbing his thumbs gently over the nearest scars, close to your wrist bone.
"Y/N..." He trailed off, and you thought you caught him tearing up. "You know I love you so much, right baby?" You felt yourself tearing up again.
It didn't take long for you to end up wrapped up in his arms, your legs around his waist as he held you close to his chest.
"How can you stand me?" You whispered after a few moments of quiet that only the crickets and soft breeze outside your window interrupted. You said it so quietly, that you didn't know if Peter had even heard you.
"What do you mean, babygirl?" he asked quietly, genuinely confused. You buried your face further into the crook of his neck before responding.
"I don't know... I just... You know so many pretty girls, but here I am. My scars are so ugly, they make me so ugly," you said, fighting back sobs the loud sobs that begged to be released from your throat. Tears were flowing freely from your cheeks, though.
"What? Y/N! You're like the prettiest girl I know," he said, not quite sure exactly what to say, but knowing he loved you and thought you were absolutely beautiful. "Listen babe, I mean it. You're so pretty and your scars don't make me see you any differently!! Like you're gorgeous and beautiful and just so damn pretty babe, like I don't even know how I pulled you-" You shushed Peter, cutting him off, but now you were smiling through your tears. You were feeling much better than you had before, and thanked him.
"I love you too baby," you smiled, kissing him gently.
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