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#none of these pictures belong to me
likeafolkssong · 1 year
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I want to brainwash you into loving me forever
I want to transport you to somewhere the culture’s clever
confess my love in swooping, sloping cursive letters
paris ~ t.s.
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pianoandpolaroids · 2 years
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“…she could only bear to have soft things around her, gentle touches, dim lights, muted sounds.”
~ Christa Wolf, Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays (tr. Jan van Heurck)
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gracemeadow · 1 year
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The Inklings
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icedb1ackcoffee · 20 days
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Ecologist!Reader aesthetic | Corrupted by Design | Feyd-Rautha x Reader
You stood out compared to the Harkonnens, in more ways than just one. You wore loose clothing: rich brown pants or skirts and deep greens tied around your torso and arms, sometimes flashes of red or blue—all washed out under any sunlight. You carried with you strange jars and herbs, your dark, sunblocking glasses atop your head if not perched on your nose, your waist satchel stuffed with samples—you must have looked completely alien to their more minimalist sensibilities. “You dress oddly for someone from the Imperium,” one of your workers remarked. “Is it your goal to one day turn into a plant, and not just look like one?”
Corrupted by Design (Rated E)
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ladylingua · 11 months
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was talking with someone about themes/aesthetics and their rise in public conscious, and it made me curious about how much to generalize my own perception of them so-
do me a favor and tell me-
1) did your middle school/high school bedroom have a curated theme or aesthetic?
2) how old are you? (you can be vague and say generation if you prefer)
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sea creatures :]
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sugar-sweet-tea · 2 years
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🌹Little Tamaki mood board 🌹
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This was my first time doing this.. I hope I did it right. I actually really like the way it turned out!
If you have any requests, please let me know! :)
This was fun to do.
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spiderr-cakezzz · 1 year
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♡.°~ pinned / introduction ~°.♡ (Currently kind of a WIP).
Hello! ^^ My name's are Cupid, Spider, an Izzy, and I'm an artist & writer! <3 I plan to use this blog to share/talk abt my interests, art, and probably other stuff :]
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꒰🧁꒱ Pronouns: any/all, but my most preferred are they/he/pup/it/vwoop/doom/bun/love/♡/funfetti/🌸/xe/🍰/she.
꒰☁꒱ I'm a minor, an that's all y'all need to know. (This also means my page will be SFW.)
꒰🌸꒱ Interests: art, video games, psychology, object shows, horror/true crime/unsolved mysteries, photography, coding, physiology, marine life, mycology, cooking/baking, learning languages (mainly Spanish, and Russian atm! <3), 2000's computer virus', video essays & character analysis, and Littlest Pet Shop .
꒰🧷꒱ Fandoms atm: Epithet Erased, Purrfect Apawcalypse, Murder Drones, Minecraft, Inanimate Insanity, FNaF, The Magnus Archives, HfjOne, RotTMNT, Creepypasta, I.O.N, Lackadaisy, Sparklecare H0sp1tal (& any stories by Kittycorn), Regretevator, and more! ♡
꒰🐀꒱ DNI: Zionists, racist, NSFW, lgbtqia+phobic (includes being against xenogenders), mspec-lesbians/gays supporters (but @/misscornelius being my only exception), ableist, pedo's/MAPs or AAMs, sexist, zoo's, etc. Proshippers, victim blamers/trauma shamers, fans of that Your Boyfriend game or it's creators, supporters of endosystems & the like (basically just system fakeclaimers) .
꒰🌈꒱ Socials : Pinterest: SpiderrCakezZz_ • Twitter: Bunny_InTheVoid (with a zero instead of 'o') • Pronouns cc: Chatter_Box (with a '4' replacing the 'A', and a zero (0) replacing the 'O') .
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omgthatdress · 3 months
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The Importance of Studying Queerness in Context.
When studying queer history, one always has to keep in mind two seemingly contradictory things: firstly, that queerness and queer people have always existed, but at the same time, that queerness and queer identities have not always existed the way they exist today.
Modern queer terms and identities did not exist to queer people in the past. They would not have thought of themselves as "gay" or "trans" or even "queer." While these modern terms may seem to fit certain historic individuals, these individuals would not have thought of themselves as such, and it would not be a part of their lived experience. To apply the modern identities of queerness to history is to erase the lives and experiences of queer people in history, and care must always be taken to understand queer history within the context of its time.
When looking at queer history online, there is a *lot* of misinformation and misidentification out there simply because people are eager to apply modern queerness to history, often in places where it doesn't belong.
A lot of old photos get misidentified as gay because they show two people of the same sex showing some level of physical affection towards each other. Okay, I'll admit that the open-mouth kissing photobooth pictures are probably actually gay, but an old picture of two men or two women holding hands or with their arms around each other, or even kissing on the cheek, were common shows of platonic affection.
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I hate to break everyone's gay little hearts, but without explicit documentation saying so, assuming that these couples are all gay is putting modern queer identity in places where it simply didn't exist. The women in the final picture are sisters. The "not married" boys are bachelors interested in marrying women.
In the silent film Wings, the emotional climax of the film comes in the form of a kiss exchanged between the characters played by Jack Powell and David Armstrong. It often gets attributed as the first gay kiss in cinema history, even on the fucking YouTube clip I found:
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Except it isn't gay. The two men spend the whole film fighting over who gets to be Clara Bow's boyfriend. When Richard Arlen's character is fatally wounded, his dear friend rushes to his side and kisses him goodbye, because in the 1920s, that was considered the ultimate show of friendship. The movie ends with Jack Powell falling in love with Clara Bow.
Similarly, a kiss shared between Lillian and Dorothy Gish in the 1921 movie Orphans of the Storm often gets attributed as being queer, but it wasn't.
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They were sisters playing sisters. None of this was considered unusual.
Pooh-poohing on all of these images that so many people on the internet breathlessly and joyously laud as proud gay history isn't fun. It makes me feel like I'm fucking Ben Shapiro. But if misinformation is allowed to flourish, it allows people like Ben Shapiro to come in and make the argument that queerness is a modern invention and queer people didn't exist in the past.
Everyone loves to see queerness represented in history, but the fact is that none of the stuff in this post would have been seen as explicitly gay and thus shouldn't be called gay today. If we are to understand queer history in its fullness and richness, it is absolutely crucial that we get it right. We owe it to our queer ancestors to recognize, honor, and not embellish the actual lives they lived.
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firelilyfox · 1 month
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Deadly Eyes
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Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort
If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate
Words: 1k
_______________________________
You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 
Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 
„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 
A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 
You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 
Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 
„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 
„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 
The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 
„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 
A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 
„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 
„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 
„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 
You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 
For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 
Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 
The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 
„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 
„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 
„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 
Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 
„And you did.“ 
He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 
„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 
_____________________________________________
Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3
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flynnriderishot · 3 months
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hey there, queen! i absolutely adore your stories, and I'd be thrilled to read an angsty story featuring Chris. so, here's the deal: the reader appears to have "cheated" on Chris, but in reality, she never did. so then, the reader is hurt by Chris's lack of trust, but take a turn when Chris discovers the truth. and so he does everything in his power to make things right, and Chris goes all out to win her back. you can plan the rest of the story.
i hope this makes sense :)
scandals - c.s
a/n: tysm 😭 i’m so sorry it took so long to write. i was deadass taking my time planning this
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christopher ❤️✨
are you fucking kidding me?
we’re done
block my number
baby 🩷🩷👩‍❤️‍👨
wait wait??
christopher❤️✨
don’t act stupid
it’s all over social media
to think you’d cheat and get away with it while being a fucking influencer is insane
christopher ❤️✨ has blocked you
nicolas 🥳🥸
did you cheat on my brother?
i want to think it’s not real but that picture deadass looks like you
oh wait your hair isn’t red anymore is it?
nevermind
i’ll talk to chris
have you spoken to him?
y/n 🤍🥳
he blocked me before i could get anything in
i didn’t even know what was happening until a few minutes ago
i didn’t cheat, nick, i promise.
nicolas 🥳🥸
i believe you
matt 🫡
chris is freaking out
wtf happened??
you cheated on him?!
y/n ‼️
i didn’t cheat, matt
it’s not me, i swear on my life 🙏🏾
my hair isn’t even red anymore, hasn’t been for nearly a month
matt🫡
😐
that’s so true
my bad
i’ll talk to chris. he’s convinced it’s you
he keeps saying how you could’ve cheated a while back and finally got exposed for it
y/n‼️
that makes no sense
the only times i’m not with him, i’m with nick, there’s no time within the two months i had my hair red that i would’ve found the time to cheat on him
and even if i did, i fucking suck at lying, how the hell would i have gotten that past him ?!
matt 🫡
tried telling him that.
kid damn near slammed my finger in the door
starting to think i shouldn’t get him the love of his life back 😐
•••
it’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve spoken to or seen chris. he seemed to have been thoroughly convinced that you cheated on him.
you weren’t able to get through to him due to him blocking you. you could have tried messaging him through instagram since he hadn’t blocked on the app, but you knew the amount of dms he got a day so the chances of him even seeing your message was slim to none.
with him not blocking you on instagram came the sadness of seeing him slowing either delete or archive the pictures he had of you two on his account.
truthfully, you didn’t cheat on him and his lack of trust in you and your relationship felt like knives to the chest.
you knew how chris was, he’d eventually realize he was in the wrong and finally try to talk to you.
now, you weren’t so sure how you would feel if he did. it’s genuinely hurt you to know that one simple thing could lead to him doubting your love for him completely. you weren’t fond of being in a relationship with someone that chose to listen to strangers rather than to hear it from the source.
you just finished stress cleaning up your room, a pile of chris’ belongings off to the side in case he had one of his brothers stop by to come grab it.
just as you were about to take a break, your phone began to go off with people mentioning you on a video on tiktok.
curious, you sat in your desk chair, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched a girl, who could easily be mistaken as you, set up her camera.
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‘hi, my names jasmine- jas if we’re close.’
she chuckled, tugging her red hair behind her ear.
‘recently, there’s been a picture of me and my boyfriend going around. in the photo, we can be seen kissing, but my back is towards whoever it was that took the picture.’
she cleared her throat, adjusting her posture. the exact photo that got people confused showed up in the corner of your screen.
‘now, i don’t do social media. i’m not an influencer, but i am aware of what goes on, you know what i mean? anyway- people think that i’m the youtuber yn ln.’
she laughed in disbelief.
‘i wasn’t going to say anything because, again, i don’t do social media. but i saw the poor girl getting hate because people think she cheated on her boyfriend chris. i’m here to clear it up. that is me in the picture, not yn. here’s a side by side of the picture the stranger took, and l a picture from the same day that my boyfriend and i took.’
as she said this, a cute photo of jasmine and her boyfriend smiling at the camera appeared on the right side of the picture that got you canceled.
‘i doubt she’d see this, but if she does, i’m so sorry that i didn’t come out sooner to say anything. but last thing i want is for someone to get hated on for something they didn’t do.’
and with that, the video ended.
you couldn’t stop yourself from going to the comments to see what people thought.
sturniolosbaby i bet y’all are embarrassed 😭
nicksbabygirl you guys ruined a relationship and it wasn’t even her 💀 that’s sick @/yn.ln @/christophersturniolo
chrispepsicola oh wow @/yn.ln
mattskisses it might not have been her in the pic but she still could’ve cheated
>>> sturniolosbiggestfan don’t start 😐
letstripbaby @/yn.ln @/christophersturniolo @/nicolassturniolo @/matthew.sturniolo @/sturniolotriplets
>>> babysturn damn tag their parents while you’re at it 😭💀
ynxsturniolo @/yn.ln look at these morons
nicksgaywife chris already deleted their photos together on instagram, look wtf you guys did 😒 @/yn.ln @/christophersturniolo
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nicolas 🥳🥸
bitch
link to tiktok
chris is so upset right now
warning‼️
he’s begging matt to drop him off at yours. figured you should know before you start packing his shit
y/n 🤍🥳
too late…
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likeafolkssong · 1 year
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it’s between me
the sand and the sea
carolina ~ t.s.
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izurou · 11 months
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STOP TELEPHONING ME FT. BLUE LOCK MEN
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features: shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, mikage reo, itoshi sae, bachira meguru, and when someone calls you during sex.
contains: female reader. pro! blue lock charas. penetrative sex. oral sex. fingering. semi public for reo and bachira. a creampie from sae. brief filming in shidou’s. she and her pronouns used. you or him are on the phone in all of them so yeah !!
note: these are so long for hcs i am so sorry about that
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SHIDOU RYUSEI
one of the sweetest things about ryusei, is that his camera roll is filled to the brim with you.
countless rows of what seems like every image of you ever—screenshots of your instagram stories, all those pictures you’ve sent with the message do i look ok attached, and of course—the dozens of photos he’s snapped of you himself.
sweet indeed—although, he’s still him, and so this habit of his isn’t all innocent admiration and good intentions. he has zero hesitation when it comes to filming you during sex—it’s a nasty side effect of his little obsession and, even nastier, he prefers leaving that type of media on your phone; sweet videos of him with his cock stuffed inside you.
so when he’s doing just that—using your device to record himself fucking you from behind, and the words can i help you suddenly leave his mouth—your heart nearly stops. did he really just? with a reluctant glance over your shoulder, you find him holding your phone up to his ear, grinning. he did.
“ryusei! what the fuck? who’s—” you attempt to scold him through an aggressive whisper, but get cut off by your own gasp when he pushes down on the side of your head—forcing your cheek flat against the mattress. he rolls his hips forwards with a breathy laugh, and you can’t help but melt into the cotton sheets and moan when he does so—being effortlessly tamed by the thickness of his cock.
“oh? you sure you wanna talk to her? she’s a little busy right now,” he sneers into the receiver, grin tripling in both size and arrogance when he looks down and sees your face—scrunched up in pure ecstasy as you fist the fabric on either side of your head. yeah, busy being all fucking his.
nevertheless, he thinks it’d be rude of him to not transfer the call over—this person went through the effort of dialling your number, after all.
so he tucks your phone between his shoulder and his ear, and uses both hands to pull you upright—flush against his chest. with his left hand latching onto your throat, and his right now holding your phone a couple inches from your ear, he purrs, “it’s for you, babydoll. wanna say hi?”
there’s a beat of silence, and then you hear it, a voice seething with anger—one that belongs to none other than your ex boyfriend. shit.
you’re holding your breath now—hoping that if you can remain silent, he’ll give up on his attempt to reach you altogether. a decent plan—but not for someone who’s currently dating the world’s biggest instigator. “c’monnnn, at least tell him how good your boyfriend’s fuckin’ you.”
he hums in content as his left hand travels south—between your tits and eventually, onto your clit. he uses his middle finger to rub tight circles, and with his cock still pressing kisses to your sensitive spots, with his tongue dancing across your neck—a whine slips out from between your lips.
and your ex hangs up—spewing a few unsavoury comments about your boyfriend before doing so.
“awwww, we were just getting to the best part,” ryusei whines, but he doesn’t stay down for long. “get ready to cum for me baby, and don’t fuckin’ hold back. we’re gonna leave him a voicemail.”
MICHAEL KAISER
when it comes to you, michael is both equal parts selfish and selfless.
he’s great at sharing. everything from his clothing to his habits—routines he’s stuck with for years, changed, because he wants his luxe life to be something you can experience with him.
like tonight, for instance—where a past version of himself would have returned home from practice, and immediately gotten into a hot bath to loosen his sore muscles. present him is in fact relaxing in a hot bath after a rather shit practice, but present him also has a pretty girl to help him wind down.
and while your boyfriend has no problem sharing with you, hell would freeze over before he’d share you. you’re his, and though he seldom allows his possessive behaviour to control him—it seems to linger on his shoulders nonetheless, particularly after a bad day.
you’re doing your best to lift his spirits—bouncing on his cock, pressing needy kisses along his inked neck—when your phone starts buzzing against the tiled ledge surrounding the tub. he knows you’ve been expecting an important call, but he doesn’t want you to stop—he’s not going to let you stop. even so, he’d be a pretty bad boyfriend if he ignored the call altogether, so he’ll answer it himself—seeing as you’re preoccupied.
“hello?” his voice is smooth, nonchalant—a little too much so. you still your movements, watching expectantly as michael’s gaze shift to yours. he smiles before continuing, as if he’s softening the impending blow. “an interview? sure, let me pass you to her.”
his eyes darken ever so slightly as he holds your phone out, mouthing the words take it.
you obey your boyfriend’s command with a little too much confidence—bringing the device up to your ear and barely managing a hello of your own before michael has you cupping a hand over your mouth with a sharp thrust of his hips. he doesn’t stop there either—grabbing onto your waist tight, more or less holding you still as he begins fucking into you at a steady pace.
“uh, i-i’m,” your mind goes blank as the voice of your potential employer rings in your ears with a simple question—what does your availability look like? michael is eavesdropping of course, sucking feverishly at the delicate skin on your neck as he strains to hear the conversation.
“monday through friday my love, isn’t that right?” he purrs into your opposite ear—handing you the answer on a silver platter. he wants you to get at least one response out before he inevitably, but indirectly ends the call. maybe it’s his sour mood tainting his train of thought, but the future where you have a job—is one where you have less time for him, less time for this. he doesn’t want that. “because you’re all mine on the weekends, aren’t you? such a precious girl, letting me fuck you like this. i don’t know what i’d do without you, baby.”
the words drip from his mouth like honey, sweet and genuine. it’s times like these that prove how scary love is, because in the heat of the moment—you’re convinced that you don’t really want this job, that all you want is to be his.
the water sloshes against the walls of the bathtub as you crumble onto his shoulder with a whine—phone silent and blank as it sits uselessly in your hand. michael runs his palms up and down your back in an attempt to soothe the upset he just assisted in—cock jumping when you sit up and pout at him.
“you’ll definitely get the next one, my love. in the meantime, this can be your full time job,” he grins—smug, but not insincere in the slightest. “you’re already a perfect fit.”
MIKAGE REO
reo, prim and proper at first glance—the perfect textbook gentleman, is anything but.
he has the courteous mannerisms down to a tee, all charming smiles and soft touches as he opens the door to his luxurious car—holding out a hand to help you inside. once you’re seated, he’ll do an adorable little jog over to the driver’s side because—keeping a pretty girl waiting just isn’t right.
his chivalry ends there though, because a parking lot is the perfect place for you to suck him off, he thinks.
and oh, how absolutely perfect you are—leaned over the centre console with your tongue swirling around his tip. he can’t help but pant a little as he lets his head fall back against the seat.
but his euphoria is short lived, because the sound of your ringtone fills his vehicle almost as quickly as it kills the mood—bluetoothed and displaying a name on the dashboard’s touch screen. seishiro. reo figures he’s only calling you to ask about him, but it’s awfully late, and while he has no reason to distrust his best friend—he finds himself curious, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation.
so, he taps his finger on the little green button.
“ynnn,” nagi’s voice emanates from the speakers—syllables drawn out and on the whinier side. you peer up at reo, and he’s looking down at you, eyes heavy with anticipation as he waits for a follow up. “are you with reo?”
your boyfriend visibly relaxes upon hearing that—and with his curiosity fed, he reaches forward to hang up, but—you swat his hand away.
“no, why? what’s up?” you hold eye contact with reo as you speak—ghosting your lips over his tip before licking up his shaft and taking him back into your mouth. you’re hoping that nagi will start to ramble, because if he does—reo will have to stay quiet, or at least attempt to.
and nagi happens to want an unreleased game, one that reo could pull a few strings and get his hands on if he wanted to—all things the voice on the other end is in the midst of explaining. he’s mere background noise though, because your attention is solely on reo and his cock.
you hold him near the base, using your hand to pump whatever your mouth can’t accommodate. reo shifts in his seat—biting down on the knuckle of his index finger as he goes one on one against the urge to buck up into your face, because that’d really conjure up a sinful sound.
and reo worries he might draw blood when you hum against him—sending vibrations throughout the length of his cock, and oh fuck, he’s so close. his brows knit together as he taps frantically on the screen—ending the call. he cums seconds later, head thrown back in pleasure as he groans and gasps through his orgasm.
“c’mere,” he breathes heavily—cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips onto yours for a messy kiss. “you wanna sit on it, sweetheart? we can head to the backseat.”
ITOSHI SAE
it might not seem like it, but there’s nowhere sae would rather be on his day off than here.
sitting on a small padded bench inside the private fitting room of a store, with you straddling his lap in a little floral mini dress. he figures that if he’s going to blow this much money on so little fabric, he might as well trial the garment’s true purpose—sex whenever and wherever he wants.
and now, as he watches you grind down onto the growing bulge in his pants—dress bunched up at your waist with one of the straps slipping off your shoulder, he can definitely see himself getting his money’s worth.
he’s just getting into it—running his hands over your ass and hips, tangling his fingers around the lace of your panties—when your phone starts to ring. at first, neither of you even acknowledge the sound, but it persists with a second call, and out of his peripherals—sae sees his manager’s name sitting the top of the screen. great, so much for your alone time.
“hello?” your voice is soft, and yet it still manages to catch your boyfriend off guard. during his brief sulk, you’ve not only answered the call, but put it on speaker as well. “is everything alright?”
the words i need to talk to sae come through, and you feel the breeze from his eye roll. you run your fingers through the hair at the back of sae’s head, pulling him a little closer as you continue to move your hips. he nuzzles into your neck soon after—eyes heavy as he watches your movements in the floor to ceiling mirror directly across from him.
“sorry, no can do. you know he needs the break,” you hum into the receiver, and you swear sae’s grip on you tightens. he loves it when you defend him like this—he thinks it’s hot.
so hot—he just can’t keep it in his pants anymore. he’s unbuttoning and unzipping—pushing fabric out of the way until his cock is springing free, and finally, he’s sinking into your cunt.
a breathy fuck falls from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall—staring up at you like you’re some kind of deity, which—in this dress, just might be true. his nails carve into your hips as he drags you along his shaft, and oh—it’s so easy for him to get carried away when you’re hugging him so tight.
“he’ll call you first—first thing in the morning.” you fumble over your words a little when the head of sae’s cock presses against a sensitive spot, but you get the response you wanted nonetheless—a that’s good thank you, and the call ends there.
a reward worthy performance, he thinks.
“oh god, sae,” you whine—and he buries his face back into the crook of your neck, recognizing the familiar knot unraveling just below his waist. his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he cums hard, breathing heavy against your skin as he watches the mirror’s reflection through hooded lids—staring intently as white starts to leak out of you, and down the side of his cock.
“careful, you’re gonna ruin the dress,” he mutters—knowing full well that the sticky mess is all him. “guess i have to buy it now, huh?”
BACHIRA MEGURU
meguru’s fatal flaw is his attention span, or rather—his lack thereof.
the dinner reservation was at seven—a table for four. you, him, and two representatives from a sports brand that’s interested in sponsoring him.
it’s a few minutes past the hour, and the other duo is evidently running a little late—no big deal, but your boyfriend thinks otherwise. he’s sitting with his chin in his palm, twirling a straw around his fingers, and crumbling under the weight of his boredom. unfortunately, you don’t think this is an establishment that’d have a colouring page and some crayons for him, but not to worry—he’s just found something else to entertain himself.
“meguru, behave,” you shoot him a glance as he scoots closer—hearing him mutter a yes ma’am, but still feeling his hand beneath your skirt a few seconds later. he brushes his middle finger over the thin fabric of your panties—gently rubbing over your clit before he begins tracing what you think are hearts onto your cunt.
your gaze floods with desire—a look that meguru knows well, and loves dearly. he’s getting excited now, tail wagging with delight, because he knows that you’ll let him continue—so long as he doesn’t make it obvious to anyone in the room.
this means that, when one of the representatives suddenly starts calling you, he technically doesn’t have to behave.
“hello?” you bring your phone up to your ear, and at the same time—meguru’s hand slips past the waistband of your panties. he sighs in content—slouching back in his seat and lolling his head to the side. you’d almost think he was the one being touched. “w-what? you can’t find it?”
ah, so you’re saying they’re lost—which loosely translates to you have more time to play. good.
using his index and ring finger to spread you open—he sinks his middle into your warm cunt, curling it upwards and moving his hand side to side a bit. meanwhile, the voice on the other line is begging for directions, and you’re struggling to give them.
you lean into meguru’s side and hold his wrist—not to stop his movements, but to limit them, at least until you manage to get off the phone. but your boyfriend—sweet as pie and smart when it’s convenient for him, presses a kiss to your temple, and decides that he’ll take care of it for you.
“look for the big arena tour billboard, we’re right below that. see you soon,” he leans in and hums happily into your phone, and the rep thanks him before hanging up. with time now running out, he brings all three of his fingers up to your clit, where he rubs tight circles. “mmm, i don’t wanna stop, baby. wanna make you cum.”
“megs, that’s them!” you squeak—spotting two well dressed, important looking people scurrying past a window on the opposite side of the room. you claw at meguru’s wrist—but his fingers stay glued to your clit for as long as possible, and he ends up pulling away mere seconds before they round the corner.
he’s all innocent smiles and waves as the two approach the table—not so subtly licking up the side of his middle finger, which—wouldn’t be so awful if there were more than just drinks on your table. either way, it’s swept under the rug, and the four of you begin introducing yourselves while looking over the menu.
and your phone is on silent at this point, but it lights up with one new message from meguru.
bathroom in 5? <3 i know what i wanna eat ;)
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lxclerc · 6 months
Text
𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 — 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔
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summary... wherein old photos of you and charles resurface and goes viral, forcing you and the man whose heart you broke to cross paths once again request… no faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far
note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone
series masterlist main masterlist
current part (part one) → part two
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charleslec
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liked by username and others
charleslec fans found an old instagram account allegedly belonging to charles from (what we believe to be) ages 12 - 20. the account is filled of personal pictures consisting of his supposed ex girlfriend, y/n y/l/n with sweet captions. y/n is a well known motorsport podcaster from monaco.
view all comments…
username EXCUSE ME?
username this was not in my 2023 bingo card 😭
username you mean to tell me my girl yn dated shARL
username the way that this is probably why she’s had practically the entire grid as guests in her podcast apart from charles
username this is such an invasion of their privacy though like clearly they both didnt want this to be dug up
⤷ username i mean if they didn’t want anyone to see, they should have deleted the account or at the very least put it on private
username okay but these pictures are so 🥹
username i always thought it was weird the way charles and yn never interacted despite both being from monaco and involved the racing world
charles_lec7
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liked by lorenzotl and others
charles_lec7 Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour. il y a 16 ans, tu es venu au monde et c'est la meilleure chose qui me soit arrivée. je suis toujours là pour t'écouter parler de n'importe quoi pendant des heures en attendant le coucher du soleil, malgré la plainte d'enzo qui ne veut pas nous conduire 🤣🤣
(happy birthday, my love. 16 years ago, you came into this world and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. i’m always here to listen to you talk about whatever for hours while waiting for sunset despite enzo’s complaint against driving us.)
view all messages… July 7, 2013
yourusername Merci beaucoup, mon ange. Je suis tellement reconnaissante d'avoir passé un autre anniversaire avec toi. Je t'aime plus que les mots ❤️❤️ (thank you so much, my angel. i am so grateful to have spent another birthday with you. i love you more than words.)
⤷ charles_lec7 J'ai hâte de vous souhaiter un joyeux anniversaire 70 fois de plus. (looking forward to greeting you happy birthday 70 more times.)
⤷ username he was going to greet her 70 more happy birthdays because he thought they’d spend the rest of their life together 😭😭
⤷ username i only learned about them today but i am a child of divorce and they are my parents
jules_bianchi Joyeux anniversaire, yn!! Je suis toujours là pour veiller sur toi et Charles quand vous avez besoin de moi. (happy birthday, yn!! i’m always here looking out for you and charles whenever you need me.)
⤷ yourusername merci, jules ❤️ nous t'encourageons toujours (thank you, jules. we’re always rooting for you.)
⤷ username oh my god 🥲🥲🥲
username i ran as fast as i could as soon as i saw the posts and oh my god it’s true 😭
username they’ve 😭😭 been 😭 together 😭😭 since 😭😭 they 😭😭 were 16 😭😭
⤷ username if you scroll even further down, he first greeted her on her 13th birthday where he called her the prettiest girl 🥲
⤷ username i’m about to stab myself
username y’all ever thought that the reason why he probably wanted number 7 is because her birthday is july 7 which is 7/7
⤷ username STOP IT RN
⤷ username his username has 7 in it bc it’s her birthday 🥲
⤷ username someone fucking sedate me
charles_lec7
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liked by arthur_leclerc and others
charles_lec7 entrer en 2016 avec la même fille qu'en 2010. mon amour, je te tiendrai la main pour toujours ❤️❤️ (entering 2017 with the same girl from 2010. my love, i’ll hold your hand forever.)
view all comments… January 1, 2016
arthur_leclerc vous êtes tous les deux si ennuyeux 🙄🙄 (you’re both so annoying)
⤷ yourusername arrêtez d'être jaloux (stop being jealous)
lorenzotl Bonne année à vous deux! (happy new year to the both of you!)
⤷ yourusername je t'aime, enzo
yourusername Tu ne m'as pas demandé de sortir avec toi avant 2012 🤔🤔 (you didn’t ask me on a date till 2012 though)
⤷ charles_lec7 Je t'aime depuis bien plus longtemps que tu ne le penses (i love you far longer than you’ve known)
⤷ joris_trouche Malheureusement, je peux le confirmer en tant que personne qui a dû tout écouter. (unfortunately i can confirm this as someone who had to listen to everything)
⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️
yourusername and to many more years to come. Je t'aimerai pour le reste de ma vie (i’ll love you for the rest of my life)
⤷ charles_lec7 as long as i’m with you
username no because they legitimately seem so in love????? like from their words and not just the pictures
⤷ username there’s no way you’re going to tell me that a man who said “i’ve loved you far longer than you’ve known” and a girl who said “i’ll love you for the rest of my life” are no longer in love
username scrolling through this account is like watching their relationship unfold and mature before my eyes
username there’s no way you can tell me that two people so in love, looking forward to the future they plan to have together can just fall out of love and be complete strangers a few years later
⤷ username right!!!! because what do you mean love like this can exist and somehow just fade? what’s the point of love then??????
username the rest of us really be having an existential crisis because of a relationship that ended 6 years ago 😭
charles_lec7
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liked by yourusername and others
charles_lec7 10 years from now, i hope it’s still you by my side
view all comments… November 5, 2017
yourusername félicitations, f2 world champion 🎉🥳 (congratulations)
⤷ charles_lec7 Merci, mon amour, je t'aime tellement. (thank you, my love. i love you so much.)
⤷ yourusername 💕
⤷ username i think this is the end guys 😔
⤷ username her energy is so different here. she literally sounds more like a friend greeting a friend rather than a girlfriend of 6 years by this point
username how did we go from “looking forward to greet you 70 more times) bc they were so sure they’d grow old together to “10 years from now, i hope it’s still you by my side” where he sounds so uncertain if they’re in each other’s futures???????
⤷ username no fuck that because how the fuck did we go from “i love you more than words” and “i’ll love you for the rest of my life” to a “💕” without even an i love you too???????????
username this is his last post of her 🥲🥲🥲
⤷ username she doesn’t even follow this account anymore
⤷ username he abandoned this account after they broke up 😭😭
username no bc he’s f2 champion here and they were still together but he entered formula 1 single??? what the hell happened
yourusername
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liked by lissiemackintosh and others
yourusername in another life
view all comments…
lissiemackintosh gorgeous gorgeous girl
⤷ yourusername no you
madisonbeer 🔥🔥🔥
yourbestfriend un voyage dans le passé ? (a trip down memory lane?)
⤷ yourusername 😵😬
username no bc your love story had me tearing up and now i refresh my feed and see this?
username she wanted to remind charles what he lost 😭
username in another life!!! i would have been your girlllllll
username literally the one that got away
username i simply can’t accept that this is the end of their story like this can’t be it, right?
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taglist: @ncentic @coffeehurricanes @academia-girl00 @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody 
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rowanswriting · 2 days
Note
ROOOOWWWWWWW
REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???
Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.
Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.
I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED
- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷
Freak Like Me - E.M.
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thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽
Word count- 1.3K
Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!
-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!
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“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.
He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.
You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.
You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.
“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”
You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.
Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.
You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.
He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”
“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.
You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.
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tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles
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ravengards-rogue · 1 month
Text
i thought of you so often.
arthur morgan x reader.
✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.
✧ wc : 2.4k (???)
✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.
✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.
He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.
You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.
On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.
You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.
It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.
It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.
Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.
Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.
Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.
Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.
You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.
(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.
"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)
But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.
You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.
You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.
And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.
A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.
The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.
So you're thinking on it.
The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.
Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.
You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.
"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.
Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.
The first few pages are nothing special.
A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.
You really love this man helplessly.
You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.
It feels like ages ago now.
You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.
There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.
It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.
Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.
You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.
She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.
Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.
You can't tear your eyes away.
Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.
Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.
Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.
You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.
I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.
She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.
One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.
After Arthur had been kidnapped.
I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.
Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.
A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.
The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.
Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.
You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.
You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.
Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.
Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.
My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.
Damn that man.
When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.
Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.
In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.
"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"
You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.
Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.
"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"
You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.
"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"
His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.
"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."
You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.
"Found your journal. The one about me,"
He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.
"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"
You shake your head.
"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"
He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."
You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.
"I love you, Arthur."
"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"
"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"
"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."
"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"
Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
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