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a-b-riddle · 8 months ago

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Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #angst #angst with a happy ending #john soap mactavish

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snoopyhughes · 11 months ago

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And he feels like home (j. hughes)

Happy winter fic exchange! @one-night-story I am so thrilled to be able to have written this for you! I hope I created something that you love that you feel fully represented in and safe to read. 🩷

Demi @wyattjohnston, thank you as always for creating such a wonderful event for our community. Your hard work for these exchanges will never go unnoticed by me, I appreciate you so much.

And thank you to @thomasschabot for proofreading this for me and making sure it was accessible for all to read, I appreciate you so much my friend!

Title was taken from long story short by Taylor Swift. This is 4.7k words, gender neutral reader. It has been double checked by lovely c to ensure that it is safe for all to read <3

new neighbor

You considered yourself to be a very patient person. You were also extremely understanding. You didn't get upset or frustrated by much. You were a good person, sometimes you allowed people to get away with things for their own sake, even if it inconvenienced you in anyway. But at this point, you had had enough.

Since you moved into your apartment in August, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you had talked to your neighbors. You were in the corner apartment, the last at the end of the hall, your only neighbors being two young men who you presumed to be brothers.

You ran into them a few times in the hallway, the two of them hardly ever separated. You knew they left in the mid afternoon, usually in suits. You assumed it was for work, but you never felt inclined to ask. They usually look rushed, the older one pestering the younger one to "hurry up" as he got out the door.

It was only this week that you had learned their names. A piece of their mail had accidentally been dropped in your box. The name addressed as "Jack Hughes." You contemplated what to do with it, standing at their door with the letter in your hands for a few minutes when the door suddenly burst open, the younger brother opening the door.

"Oh! Hello," he muttered out awkwardly. Neither of you had known the other's name, but you both knew each other as neighbors. "Hi! Are you Jack?" You asked awkwardly, not holding out the card, making your question seem like a random inquiry. "No, I'm Luke, Jack is my brother. Why do you ask? Do you need something?" He asked in an almost bothered tone, as if people frequently came to him asking for unwanted favors.

"Oh! Duh. A piece of Jack's mail got put in my box by accident. I assume it's okay if I drop it with you?" You asked, making you almost instantly face palm. "Yep, that works. Anyway, I'm late to something. Thanks for dropping it off..." He mumbled off at the end, not knowing what to insert for your name. You told him your name, and that was that.

That was earlier this week. This was now Friday. Occasionally, you could tell that they had some small parties. Nothing too outlandish for an apartment building that shared thin walls, but a decent amount of people resulting in a louder volume. You were young yourself, you were never going to complain for a small amount of volume on the occasional Saturday night. This however, had been far too much.

You swear this was the 3rd night in a row of their little parties, and you had dealt with far too much. It was mid April, you were studying for a big exam you had. Part of your move in August was to signal the start of your journey to get your masters degree. You were almost done with the semester, just a few big exams in between, this being one of them. You knew that it seemed a little lame, studying for exams on a Friday night, but part of the move was moving to New Jersey where there was a school that was one of the best in the country for your intended major, not super close to home. With all of your studying and academic work, including working to pay for the apartment and schooling, you didn't have much time to socialize. You had gone to coffee with some people from your classes, but not much beyond that, not enough to warrant Friday night plans towards the end of the semester.

Slamming your textbook, you decided you had officially reached your limit. You paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm down a bit in an attempt to hopefully not absolutely lose it on your neighbor. It wasn't that late, but you had been studying all day with minimal breaks. You couldn't see the end of the studying in sight if your neighbors kept the music at the volume they had. You wondered how the people on the other side of them weren't bothered by the noise, but then again you had probably seen them even less than you had seen Jack and Luke.

You slipped your feet into the pair of shoes closest to the door, banging on the door in an attempt for them to hear it over the blaring music. You took a small step back when a man you didn't recognize answered the door. "Can I help you?" A dark haired man with an accent asked. Before you could open your mouth, a very energetic Jack came bustling towards the door. "Y/N! To what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked with a charming smile, almost causing your reserve to break down. But when your brain came back after the sound of the music blared through your ears, you remembered why you were over here.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's only 11. It's a Friday night. But based on your casual attire, I doubt that matters much to you," Jack quipped at your casual pajamas. "For your information, Jack, I'm studying for a big exam. Clearly you don't know much about that." You snapped back.

"For your information, my team just made the playoffs. We have a lot to celebrate." Jack flexed, causing his chest to puff out a bit. "I don't care which of your beer league teams made the playoffs, but I would really like to pass my first year of my masters program and not have to repeat. That is, after all, how I ended up here, as your neighbor." You were starting to lose your patience, and instead of Jack surrendering, he started laughing.

"Beer league, huh. Do you not know?" You rolled your eyes. "If this is your attempt at a 'Do you know who I am?' moment, you're failing severely. Or even better, if it's going to be a 'do you know who my father is?' Just save me the time, I have an exam to study for," you had one foot out the door when Jack grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Relax, I just figured you knew because that seems to be all anyone wants from us who lives in this building. Favors relating to our job. Luke and I play for the New Jersey Devils, the NHL team around here. It's okay that you don't know, however I hope now that you do, you'll choose us to be your favorite team." Jack smirked at you, causing you to giggle, which resulted in you immediately covering your mouth. What was happening to you? You didn't giggle over charming guys.

"Oh, did you guys win or something? Seems like an awfully long time to be celebrating one win," you quipped. "We made it into the playoffs. We are the number one seed. We've been celebrating for a few days because we have a bit of time off. I am sorry, it is probably excessive. We'll turn it down and remind the guys that we aren't the only ones who live here." Jack put his tail between his legs. You did feel a bit bad, but you were glad the noise was going to at least quiet down.

"I hope I didn't come off like a jerk, I just got flustered. I know you didn't know. I shouldn't have come over attacking." You muttered, causing Jack to smile.

"I'll accept your apology on one condition. Do you think you can find some time in your busy finals schedule to come to one of our games? I can get you more details when the playoffs schedule comes out, but I would it if you could come. I think Luke might be a little jealous that I softened you up first, but it just adds for some more bragging rights on the kid."

You couldn't believe your ears. Your cute, albeit a little clueless neighbor, was not only a professional athlete, but he was also asking you on a date if you weren't mistaken.

"Well Jack, I'd love to, but you just better hope I pass this exam." You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Good thing we're gonna turn the volume down."

2. first game

What do you wear to a hockey game that you were invited to by your neighbor who you have only talked to a few times but you think he may have been awkwardly potentially flirting with you when he invited you?

You were digging through your closet, looking for something appropriate to wear for probably one of the most awkward, unique events you have ever been to. You can't say that you had ever been to a professional hockey game. You weren't clueless to the rules and such, you just never had the opportunity to attend one in person.

Not to mention, you were going alone. You only had a few casual friends at school through this point in the year, and it didn't feel appropriate to bring any of them to this... interesting event you were going to. Plus, you were certain that you would be wrapped up in the game. You were nervous enough as is, and you can't imagine if you had to sit there and make awkward small talk with one of your classmates who might be able to say what your last name is.

Sitting in the uber on the way there made you start to question your choice of agreeing to go to the game. You had no idea how this would go other than you knew that Jack had slipped the ticket under your door earlier this morning and written on it was instructions on how to get to the gate. One thing that caused your cheeks to heat was that on the bottom of the post it note, was his phone number.

This made it feel almost official in a way, having his phone number. Before you could dwell on it too much, your uber pulled up to the door that Jack directed you to. You thanked the driver and walked in to the stadium, immediately overwhelmed by everything. For a second you considered turning around and making something up to Jack that you were sick, but when you took a second to look around, you saw so many happy people with Jack's last name plastered across their backs, number 86 standing proudly. You felt a sense of pride for Jack, though you weren't sure how to feel about that.

That sense of pride never went away once the game started. Your eyes were on Jack from the second his feet touched the ice, and the moment he sat on the bench. Your eyes followed him all the way to the bench, wishing the time he wasn't on the ice would go faster. You wondered why you had never been interested on hockey. Jack was so talented, and the game ended with him scoring a goal and getting two assists. You thought for a second that he was looking up at you when he scored, but you shook your head quickly to rid your brain of those thoughts.

As the game ended, it suddenly occurred to you that you weren't sure how this would end. You sat in your seat for a while letting the seats clear out, preparing to walk towards the gate that you entered in, opening the uber app. As soon as your phone unlocked, a message from Jack popped up on your phone.

"Meet me outside," it read. "I'd like to take you to dinner and drive you home. I'll meet you by the gate you entered in."

Your cheeks flushed at his admission, suddenly looking down at your outfit. Was this appropriate for a dinner date? You were not planning on this at all. You checked what you looked like in the front camera of your phone. Before you could decide whether or not you looked appropriate, you heard a familiar laugh. Your chest warmed at the idea that his laugh could be so familiar, so homey despite the fact that the two of you had not spent much time together.

Jack's feet sped up as he caught up to you, just excited to see you after a great win. His smile was contagious when he saw you standing there, staring at your sneakers in an attempt to not be noticed by the rest of the guys who might ask questions.

In the end, it wasn't Jack who spoke up first. It was Luke. "Y/N! I'm so glad you came! I wanted to score for you, but unfortunately this guy beat me to it," he smiled, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You tried to relax into his arms, telling yourself this was a new normal in your life. Casual banter with your neighbors who just so happen to be professional athletes making millions of dollars.

"Hey back off, I invited them. You dropped the ball. Your turn is up, by the way," Jack muttered, causing Luke to give a quizzical look. Taking advantage of Luke's moment of confusion, Jack sneaks around him and puts his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. A noise of surprise comes out of your mouth. Not discomfort, just surprise at his sudden display of physical affection. "That was awesome!" Jack yelled. "Did you have so much fun?" He asked, pulling away to see your face looking up at him.

"Well it would have been more fun if Luke scored for me but I guess I'll settle for your points," you teased. He smiled, his cheeks turning red at your teasing. "Y/N, is Jack blushing? Did you turn him into a shy mess?" Luke teased and Jack groaned, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I just want to impress you," he smiled which caused your entire body to heat up. It never occurred to you that he wanted to impress you. That you were there because he wanted you to be impressed with his game and how he played.

"Well don't worry, I was thoroughly impressed. Would you like to go to dinner now?" You asked. "Am I invited? Is this like a neighborly get together?" Luke was now teasing you both, causing both of you to get bashful. "Dude, clearly this is a date," Jack mumbled, causing your eyebrows to raise. "Clearly? Is that what we're calling it now. I mean I certainly thought it was, but you never asked me." You and Luke were truly just having fun with the teasing now.

"Jack, it's not very gentlemanly to assume it's a date. You really should ask, especially with someone like Y/N. They're a catch!" Jack was glaring daggers into Luke. "Yes, I should. Y/N, I would like tonight to be a date. Will you go out on a date with me?" Jack asked, grabbing your hand in his. You were grinning, nodding your head. "Well then, Luke I think it's past your bedtime. Why don't you go home with Holtzy and I will take Y/N out for dinner?" Luke shook his head, giggling. "Wouldn't you like that," he laughed. "Luke-" "Fine! Fine! I'm done. I'll go. Y/N, it was a pleasure to laugh with you. You kids enjoy yourself."

"I have a feeling we will."

3. first (real) date

Your dinner with Jack was perfect. You finally got the news back that you had passed the exam you were stressing about, and to celebrate, you got your favorite take out and watched Jack's game on the couch with a glass of wine. It was strange, to whole heartedly notice his absence when him and Luke were away for games. Right now, they were on a short West coast road trip, Denver, Arizona, and Seattle, and then heading back home for a few days off before a home game.

This was their last game being gone, and you found yourself waiting hopefully for Jack to come back. You had been texting a lot on the road trip, Jack even calling you once after he crawled into the empty bed next to Jesper's bed. According to Jack, his friend, teammate, and road roommate Jesper slept like the dead, even going as far as to wearing headphones when he slept, so there was no concern of the call waking him up. That didn't stop you from keeping your voice to a low volume, which Jack of course countered by yelling an obnoxious "What was that?" whenever he couldn't hear you.

After a Devils win, you crawled into bed for the night, finding yourself thinking of Jack, and how you couldn't wait to see him. You were in so deep.

------

As you cleaned up the remnants of your late afternoon lunch, a knock sounded on your door. You had a feeling you knew who it was, but you still checked the peephole to see Jack's face on the other side, nervously rocking back and forth on his feet, holding something in his hand.

Flowers.

"Hi, it's so good to see you!" You smiled, welcoming him inside. "These are for you. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate, but I wanted to ask you something, so I thought these might help. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go to dinner with me on Friday? We have a game on Thursday night, and I thought a more formal, not after a game greasy pizza joint dinner would be fun. That is, if you are interested? If not, it's okay, I was just," you finally cut him off with a hand on his arm. "Jack! I'd love to. The flowers are beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me. I would love nothing more." You smiled, causing an audible sigh to come from Jack's lips.

"Oh thank God! Sorry, I didn't want to ramble, I just really got nervous. I wanted you to say yes but I didn't want to sound weird or make you uncomfortable." He smiled. Neither of you knew what was going on. Jack was stunned that his neighbor who he had barely talked to but admired from afar had turned him into a nervous, blushing mess. You also couldn't say you were expecting to fall for your neighbor. But when he was gone, you came to that conclusion: you were absolutely falling for Jack. You were falling for him, you couldn't understand how it had happened or why, but you absolutely were.

When it came time for your date to come, you felt more nervous than you did for the game. Jack had let you know that you were going to be going to a nicer restaurant. You picked his brain a bit at what to wear. What you didn't know is that he had preplanned his outfit, mannerisms, conversations, basically his every move for the date with his mom and brothers. Well, mostly Quinn. When Luke saw how nervous he was, he was constantly teasing him. Luke loved to tease him about how you should have fallen for him instead of Jack. Of course it was all jokes, as soon as the two of you started hanging out Luke could immediately see the chemistry between the two of you. He knew that your connection was much deeper than any sort of joke he could make. He was really happy for his older brother, finally seeing him fall for a person who made him truly happy.

When you decided on an outfit that was both appropriate for the occasion and made you feel good about yourself, you started pacing by the front door of your apartment, anxiously waiting for Jack to come. It was about 10 minutes before he said he would arrive. On the other side of the wall, Jack thought about coming a few minutes early, but his mom immediately shut that down. Jack argued that he wanted to seem timely and didn't want to keep you waiting. Ellen shut him down, though.

"How long does it take you to walk 10 steps next door? You never want to rush someone getting ready, especially for a first date." Luke was cackling in the background, of course.

At 6:00 on the dot, Jack was knocking on your door. He was almost more nervous than when he came by a few days before asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him, if that was even possible. When you opened the door, Jack planted his feet in the ground, willing himself to not fall over on his ass and make a complete fool of himself.

You were absolutely stunning. You looked so amazing in Jack's eyes. He felt himself blushing as soon as you opened the door. He was thanking his lucky stars, wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to find someone as special as you.

"Y/N..." he finally breathed out, his heart racing. "What? Do I look okay?" You began to feel nervous under his intense gaze, your hands instinctively picking at your fingernails. "Okay would be an insult. You look incredible. These are for you, by the way," Jack handed you the flowers he forgot he even had. "That's so sweet! You didn't have to bring me flowers. The ones you brought me a few days ago are still going strong. They will look beautiful together, though."

You took a minute to put the flowers in a vase. Jack was watching you from afar, you felt his eyes on you, following you around your small kitchen. Truthfully, he was admiring you. He couldn't help but blush at the sight of you, putting flowers in the vase that he bought for you, getting ready for the date that he was taking you out on. He felt like he won the lottery.

When you turned around, you saw him blushingly admiring you, causing your own cheeks to heat up. "What has you so smiley?" you asked, taking a step closer to him, bravely grabbing his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his hand in an attempt to help him feel calm. Jack was certain no one had ever made him feel this nervous. Certainly not someone he was dating. "I just can't believe how beautiful you are. I feel so lucky that you are going out with me."

Both of you were nervous wrecks at this point. Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you were leaning forward, kissing him on the cheek. As soon as Jack felt your lips on his skin, he knew he had to kiss you. "Can I kiss you? Like, on the lips," he muttered, causing you to giggle. "Yes Jack, you can kiss me, like on the lips." He groaned at your teasing, but before he could throw his head back exasperatedly, you leaned forward, capturing his lips with your own.

Jack felt himself melt, holding onto your waist in an attempt to hold himself up straight. It was official. You had softened Jack into a gushy, pillowy mess. And Jack had never been so happy.

+1. as a couple

6 months later

"Jack, honey, if you keep stomping any louder, the people below us are gonna come complain," you muttered teasingly at him. "You really think they can hear you? Besides, if they came and complained, I would simply explain to them that my amazing partner, whom I care for very much, is meeting my family for the first time, and I think they would understand." He quipped back, causing you to laugh.

Jack's parents were coming in to town for the first time in the new season. Before you met Jack, you had long planned to spend the summer abroad with your closest friend. Jack was thrilled for you, but disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend time together over the summer at his summer house. He did however, jet off to meet you in Italy for a week, which was perfect. Ordinarily, you probably would have met Jack's parents already, but with the chaos of your summer, it was now the Devils home opener, and you had yet to meet your boyfriend's parents.

"If I'm so amazing, why are you so nervous for me to meet them?" Jack groaned, causing you to laugh. Teasing each other was something so common, but it was always done lovingly. It was almost a love language of sorts between the two of you.

"Babe, how many times have I talked to Quinn on FaceTime with you? And Luke is the best friend I have here in Jersey, besides you obviously, so it's just your parents. Who, by the way, we have also Facetimed with a handful of times together."

"I know, but in person it's different. They might get knocked on their ass by your good looks and charm, just like I was. And besides, if you think Luke's teasing and sarcasm is bad, just wait until you meet my dad. Where do you think he gets it from?" Jack continues to ramble. To an outsider, it might look like Jack didn't want you to meet his parents, but you both knew it was the complete opposite. The two of you hadn't been together for that long, but in a way that didn't matter. Jack was close to saying the "l word," and you probably weren't that far behind him. He wanted you to meet his parents because he wanted them to love you as much as he did. You felt the same way.

In an attempt to stop his never ending nerves, you took the few steps across the room towards him, putting your hand on his cheek and pulling him in for a soft kiss. "Jack, I am thrilled to meet your parents. If it makes you feel any better, I am a bit nervous too. I want them to like me. Although, I'm sure you've bored them to tears with stories making me seem like I'm the most amazing person on the Earth." "Because you are," Jack intervened, serious as a heart attack.

You laughed at his genuine tone, he was always buttering you up. "They'll love you, because you're amazing. Besides, Lukey and Quinn already love you. This will be easy work for you. The shock of me being in a serious relationship has already worn off. They're thrilled to meet you," you laughed at his half hearted attempt at a joke.

"Besides, I'm sure they will be so excited to meet the person who has turned you into a sap," you laughed, causing Jack's mouth to open in shock. "I am not a sap!" He tried to quip back, but you both knew he was absolutely lying. He was so soft on you, something none of his loved ones had ever seen. "Jack, yesterday you laid your nice jacket over a puddle in the nasty streets of Jersey for me to walk over because there was no way around it," you stared back at him. "That puddle was huge! Your pant legs would've been soaked, I know you would've hated that." You laughed at his kind hearted attempt at an explanation.

"You are one of a kind Jack Hughes," you started. "I truly love you." As soon as the words came out of your mouth, your hand covered it in shock. Of course you loved Jack, but you were so nervous to tell him. You had never said those words to someone romantically before, and you were both certain he would say it first, even though you hadn't talked about it before.

"You love me?" He asked, his voice quivering. "Of course I love you, did you miss the puddle story? I would be crazy not to have fallen in love with you." At this point, both of your eyes were watery, Jack's grip on your shoulders never wavering. "Oh my God, you love me. Oh my God, wait, I love you! I love you so much! I can't believe I haven't said it back yet! I love you!" Jack was over the moon, causing you to laugh wetly.

You had absolutely softened Jack to his core. But you were nothing but soft for him, the two of you a perfect match for each other. When you pulled each other in for a kiss, the love between the two of you was imminent, the nerves of the upcoming event melting away. Jack couldn't wait to introduce you to his parents as his partner whom he loved so much, and you couldn't wait to love them as much as you loved him.

#jack hughes #Jack Hughes fic #Jack Hughes imagine #Jack Hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #New Jersey devils #New Jersey devils x reader #New Jersey devils imagine #hughes brothers #jh86

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forzaferraris · 11 months ago

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UH OH ! — cl16. [ series masterlist . part ii . ]

CHAPTER ONE / gorgeous.

❛ you should take it as a compliment, that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talked. ❜

summary : usually, birthday parties are supposed to be a close friend's and family celebration, so why on earth are you being dragged along as your friend's plus one?

warnings : implied references to cheating. food mentions. vomiting mentions but not explicitly written. sexual themes, inuendos. a purposeful choice to refuse to write without capital letters. too many taylor swift references. google translated french. no use of y/n but reader is referred to as soleil by charles and that transfers on through all the fic. charles leclerc's toxic relationship. alcohol consumption, drink responsibly. suddenly charles leclerc is actually decent at flirting. inaccurate storyline of pierre's birthday. 2023's silly season just got sillier. live laugh love kika gomes. word count : 1.7k

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[ caption one: hot girls always do skincare ��🏻‍♀️ / caption two: i fear i girlbossed to close to the sun, how did i end up here ⁉️🤨 ]

THE STREETS OF PARIS , were lively enough that you could blend in seamlessly, everyone else dressed essentially to the nines in their finest attire, walking in and out of all the restaurants in the vicinity. you want to cower, wrap the shall around yourself tighter and hide away; you'd never felt more insecure and out of place in the entire month you'd been vacationing in france, until this very moment.

everyone around you exudes the amount of confidence that comes naturally to them that you wished you had, even if you felt genuinely good in the outfit Kika had practically forced you in when you'd briefly mentioned having nothing to wear to the event she'd asked you to tag along to. a part of you wants to remind yourself that you knew better than to expect things to play out differently, it wants to ridicule you for going back on your usual stance of always expecting disappointment to no longer feel disappointed.

you wave off a taxi that pulls beside you, you're already at your destination, and a fleeting wave of nausea makes you want to clench your gut, and hurl what little you'd eaten earlier throughout the day into the hedges beside you; you don't, thankfully. instead, you resort to the safety of your phone, back-and-forth bickering between your best friend and Kika to work up your nerves to get yourself inside the building.

you feel wobbly on your feet, something you will also plan to blame on Kika when you find the courage to get yourself to walk in through the door of the Laperouse, a considerably more elegant spot to eat at than you would have picked, you only dread the fear of looking over the menu and bearing witness to the prices of the food.

the ding of the bell above the door pulls your head out of your phone when you're met with the silhouette of quite possibly the most attractive man you'd ever had blessed your gaze — excluding that one time you'd run into lorenzo zurzolo on a girls trip to madrid and fumbled the whole ordeal so embarrassingly you had to block him on instagram to keep from ever seeing him.

his actions are almost more exaggerated in frustration than you'd plainly described to your friend, his hand is constantly dragging down his face when he pulls the phone away from his ear, promptly allowing you to hear the snippets of french being, basically, screamed through the phone at him. yikes. the phone call seems to drag on and the amount of time you've been staring at this man can be somewhat considered borderline stalking if he wasn't uninterested in the world outside the french screaming match on the phone.

deciding you'd done enough oogling to satiate for the brieft maladaptive day-dreaming you'll experience during mundane errands. with the very little courage you had, you wipe your hands on your dress, pitifully, and tuck your phone into the clutch before making your way inside. you're blissfully unaware of the way the man had turned towards the noise the heels of your shoes had made against the pavement, his attitude doing a complete 180 had him disregarding the remainder of the phone call before finally giving up, a defeated sigh follows the silence of the call being ended.

'i told you so. . .' your brain supplies when you feel even more out of place being inside said restaurant than how you were simply just standing outside of it, you felt both over and under-dressed watching the mass of patrons standing at the front bar along with the glimpses you could get inside the dining room from where you wait at the hostess stand.

"can i help you?" the hostess asks, words sleek with her french accent as she flicks her gaze up towards you before down at the booking book in front of her. you fiddle with your fingers, white-knuckling the black clutch, suddenly unable to find your own words. the woman rolls her eyes, and taps her perfectly manicured finger against the book and you visibly shake.

"elle est avec moi et la réservation Gasly" a voice speaks, standing behind you, close enough to be flush against you, but remaining a finger length away from you, refusing to lift your head, you don't dare look at who's just saved yourself from any more bouts of unwavering embarrassment for the night.

"profite de ta soirée" the hostess grins, it doesn't shine in her eyes and it's clearly a put-on customer service smile, forced to maintain a friendly atmosphere within the restaurant, you're allowing yourself to be lead through towards the private dining room, stepping away from the man, you mumble a simple thank you in your own butchered french pronunciation as you spot kika and find yourself attached to her hip for a majority of the night.

f1wagsgossip just posted to their story . . .

[ caption one: @yourusername spotted arriving at pierre's birthday party / caption two: @yourusername wearing the monot black maxi cutout ]

now, see if you weren't the type of person to be so easily persuaded into joining in on the drink festivities, you wouldn't have ended up with kika as one of your closest friends. you were never one to turn down alcohol, especially open bar alcohol; which is perhaps why you'd found yourself in a state of being a social butterfly, you'd floated around the room, meals long since eaten and cleared by the wait staff left people standing around and conversing.

mixtures of english, french and portuguese filling the room, bits and pieces of conversations you were picking up, but with your minimal understanding of french you found yourself avoiding anything beyond "hi how are you?" and introducing yourself, aside from that you smile and nodded before politely excusing yourself to float around once more.

"are you purposely ignoring me?" there it is, the sound that would haunt your best dreams and your worst nightmares; the shiver that runs up your spine makes you inadvertently cringe at yourself, how were you this reactive to a voice, you're going to blame the entire thing on the amount of sparkling moscato you'd been drinking by the glass.

"hm? no, no i'm not ignoring you?" you mock his accent, turning around to finally make eye contact with him, lips pursed into a line to keep yourself from giggling, the bubbles in your stomach is either your own nerves, the bubbly alcoholic beverage you'd consumed or a mixture of both — either way you feel content enough to be less than self-aware of the situation.

you can almost see the way he visibly lights up at the interaction, the way can't hold himself back from laughing at your attempt to mock his accent, the way his eyes crinkle and the laughter that follows the expression leaves you virtually speechless, you'd never been in a situation where someone, especially not a man. had ever laughed at you in a way that didn't feel the least bit mocking towards you; his laughter subsides and you feel yourself mourning the noise, head tilting to the side before he's taking a sip from his own glass.

"how do you know pierre?"

"through kika, she's the sole reason i'm here" you explain, gesturing with your hands as you talk, the conversation carries on throughout most of the night, new drinks replacing old ones all whilst the distance between the two of you closing inch by inch and shamelessly, perhaps even a little selfishly you allow it.

you allow more than just close proximity, you allow his knee to knock against your own, the hand to graze your waist as his arm moves around you to put his empty drink on the bar. you allow yourself to meet his gaze, hold it and find yourself lower and lower your own inhibitions. the good, the bad and the ugly of a man who hasn't asked for your name and whose name you hadn't bothered to ask for either.

perhaps, it's the events of the night that led you to here, in this heat of the moment pursuit of pure guiltless drunk happiness, lips against the nap of your neck in the back of a taxi, a hand dragging dangerously up your thigh, closer and closer to a spot you hadn't known longed to be touched until now. you're mutual shouts of laughter are shared through the streets of paris, leading into the hotel room you'd been staying in for the week, you're set to check out the next morning, but realistically, what's one night of parisian fun to end your trip with a bang, literally.

"soleil, fuck, the things you are doing to me right now" his voice comes out like a growl against your ear, his teeth dragging along your ear lobe and further down your neck, never biting, just allowing the feeling to pull the breathless noises out of you. your hand finds its way to nestle into his hair, grip tight and pull him away, the way he looks at you, a gaze you're all far too familiar with, lust.

god, had you wished you knew life wouldn't feel so horribly if you'd felt like this the entire time, the way the man finds himself home between your thighs, even as they clench around his head as soon as his tongue flicks against your abused and overly sensitive clit, fingers working their way in and out of your as you're pushed to complete your third orgasm — your hands griping the pillow behind your head, back arching as you moan out breathlessly, the needy coil in your stomach untangling once more as he pulls the orgasm out of you; your left breathless and shaking as your ride out the orgasm on his fingers.

his face is glistening with your juices; god if you were brave enough to take a picture you would have, he looked effortlessly pretty as he wiped his face with the back of his hand and finally pulled his fingers out of you to lick them clean.

you were royally screwed. even after you woke up in the morning, he was still asleep, but check-out was soon and there really wasn't any need to actively remain in the hotel room bed any longer, even if the man sleeping beside you was dreamy, even asleep, you knew alcohol-influenced one night stands were less than impressive to boast about the next morning. so you do the easiest thing to bypass awkward morning conversations, you leave a note with your number and leave.

yourusername just posted . . .

liked by francisca.cgomes, yourbestfriend and 489 others yourusername are you happy to have been in paris? oui! tagged francisca.cgomes

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user girl, what is that on your neck in the second pic?? ⤿ yourusername the question is are you a narc?

francisca.cgomes paris couldn't handle us for longer than a week ⤿yourusername where too next gf x

yourbestfriend i miss you come home ! ⤿yourusername i think i might find a new home ⤿yourbestfriend you're really gonna abandon our kids like that?

user since when have her an kika been friends? ⤿user since like forever, they grew up together

yoursisteruser look at you being a slut pookie, we love to see it ⤿yourusername get out of my comments blocked and reported ⤿yoursisteruser can you answer my facetime now, you got a lot of catching up to do, this is new name lore !!!

authors note : hi oh my god, so i'm absolutely nervous to actually have this be posted, it's not been beta read so i apologise in advance trying to edit this myself was the longest task i've come to find myself tethered to. i really like the plot of this story, the smut a lil dry because my smut writing is dry, we gotta work ourselves up to that, later chapters pookies, later chapters. i would have added more to the story, i'm like super inspired by this, but alas the 30 image limit said, no. so we gotta listen !

add yourself to the taglist here !

taglist : @iluminaya @greenbaby12 @therealcap @marshmummy

#𐙚 paige’s works #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 xreader #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one imagines #f1 imagines #opla sanji x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #𐙚 uhoh fic

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mmkclarkey · 2 days ago

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We have a spare room- Part 3

When all goes wrong, moving in with three guys will solve it?

It had been three months since you moved in with three random men, all of which having their own weird affect on you. Chris had quickly become the person you went to when you wanted to talk about Taylor swift or Chappell Roan or anything of the sort, he loved the fact that you didn’t judge him for his feminine side. And you loved the fact that he allowed you to rant about anything to him, always giving the best rants back.

This however meant that you had to judge him for something else, now if there’s one thing you learnt about Chris, it’s that he’ll test his luck, he had the tendency to be a dick to his friends. Arthurtv told you about that one time in school when Chris told the girl Arthur liked that they were in a gay relationship, much to the girl’s dismay.

The way to combat this you may ask? Chris does something wrong, he has to put £1 in the jar, they stole the idea, some show called new girl apparently?

Besides Chris, Arthur was the best person to go to if you wanted something interesting, he had this amazing ability to be able to make you laugh at the most random times. Like the time last week where you were all arguing over the shared bathroom, having the biggest shower you tended to argue over who was going to use it when you go out. Arthur fully started to strip off naked, making you all leave as he shouted that he’d flash you all if you didn’t let him use the shower. In the end, you George and Chris sat on the floor outside the bathroom laughing for nearly an hour.

And then there’s George. George was the classic, blast music and go to parties and drink kind of guy. Somehow you found yourself roped into going to yet another influencer party at least once a week, however, you can’t exactly say that you didn’t like it. Aswell as this, he was absolutely amazing at giving advice, about anything, you had problems with filming? George knew what to do. you had no idea what to wear? he did. It was shocking how good the man was at just daily advice, it made you really appreciate the fact that you have him as a friend now.

You had uploaded a video three days ago where you were playing a horror game on Roblox, which you didn’t see an issue with and as usual got the views you were used to. But today? Today it peaked, around 9000 more people liked it in just the one day.

Then came the comments. and that’s where you realised your mistake. At one point you scream particularly loud and George (being the only other person in the flat at the time) shouts in from his room asking if everything was okay, to which you laugh and shout through that you are making a video and you’re okay. And this would be absolutely no issue if it wasn’t for the fact that your editor left it in, and your viewers, and just people people in general, did not know that you had moved out of your old flat let alone moved in with another man.

This caused a shocking amount of people to guess that you must have broken up with your boyfriend, and got with George almost straight away, and that’s why he’s in your house, concerned whether you’re okay. It didn’t take long for George to be knocking at your door, asking if you were decent so he could come in.

“I’m decent George, come in”

“So… I saw your comments” he says while sitting down on the bed, a bit of a red look on his face, clearly just back from being outside.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise my editor left it in, i’m making a tiktok literally in a minute to tell people that we aren’t together, it just means explaining why I’m here” you say back in an apologetic tone, aware of how overwhelming the fans can be sometimes.

“It’s fine, I promise, do you think we should get us all in the vid just to prove it a bit?” he asks with a curious tone.

You make the decision to do so, making everyone group together on the sofa as you set up your phone, pressing record.

“So… hey guys, i’m making a quick short video to address some things i guess? for reference, I made a video last week that was released three days ago, and in it, George here asked me if i was okay, which is lovely, but we aren’t just friends.”

Arthur giggles and says “We’re all just friends, she just wanted to hide from you guys that she moved out of her old place”

Chris chimes in “Yeah, so if anyone, preferably three girls and a guy want to come wife up this flat feel free”

“Chris shut the fuck up” All three of you say in response, yet all laughing too.

“So yeah, I moved in with Chris, George and Arthur and I guess that’s where I am now, hope this clears things up and I love you all”

I post the video and the comments come in immediately:

this quad is literally iconic

we all know why she moved in with three guys

chris is so Schmidt coded argue with the wall

i’m so glad to see you living your best life baby omg!!

they are such iconic friends we need more videos together

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N i am so incredibly sorry, i’ve been completely procrastinating this, i hope we like it!! also can we notice the fourth wall break xx

taglist: @loveheart-123 @ooostarwarsfandom501st @rougetv @le-le-lea @onlinesuzie @44-ilton @chilwellsancho @pretendyoucantseeme @theresglittleronthefloor @raekensluver @viagracex @neivivenaj @authortelevision

#arthur frederick #george clarkey #arthur hill #italianbach #chrismd #george clarke x reader #uk youtubers

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darklyndivinely · 1 year ago

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Was chatting with a friend about why I really don't like taylor. I said that she is 100% Taylor Swift (The Brand) all the time. That she has cultivated this belief in her fanbase that those who buy all her merch and albums are the true fans. So when she releases seven different versions of the same album all her fans run to buy it. Everything about her is meticulously crafted to bring in more fans and therefore, more money. There's nothing genuine about her.

And they replied that that's fine because at least she's being honest about it. She's just making money, everyone does it, why single her out.

But the thing is, it's not just about her making money. It's about her manipulating her fans to gain more of it. It's about her charging huge amounts of money for her tour film yet not giving the option to buy it, only rent. It's about her publicly dating a misogynistic piece of shit of a man, therefore, elevating and promoting him. It's about her 138 tons of carbon emissions in the past couple of months alone. It's about the nauseating parasocial relationship that her fans have with her. It's their fucked up cult-like mentality that leads them to praise and worship the ground that she walks on while bringing down anyone else who doesn't bow and raise a temple in her name. It's about her utilising and weaponizing feminism for her own selfish personal gain. It's about her absolute inability to accept and digest criticism. It's about her being named the fucking person of the year and still talking shit about her ex while calling her pop album a "goth-punk moment of female rage."

It's about her being a fucking billionaire yet not even being half a decent person.

#anti taylor swift

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roseghoul26 · 5 months ago

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Chapter 16: ...Or Dare To Sit And Watch What We'll Become

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Torture, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, Arthur Morgan Has Tuberculosis, Angst With A Happy Ending, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: thank you for your patience! this chapter kicked my ass Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraphph @crypticlxrsh @lorenaloveslewis @tswizzleislike8foot4 @oziozzioslo @tinaaaa5747 Chapter List

The sun beat down on your body as you sat hunched over, hands digging into the dirt. Your knees ached, having spent at least the last hour in the same position, and you could feel the back of your neck begin to burn, the only part of your body not protected from the sun.

A triumphant huff of air left you when the carrot you had been pulling at finally came free, specks of dirt hitting you in the face. You didn’t pay them any mind, shaking the vegetable before adding it to the nearly full basket beside you. You weren’t sure what was with the crops this early summer, as you seemed to be harvesting more than you thought you would. Not that you were complaining; you’d make a decent amount of money from all the extras.

Sitting back on your heels, you gave your knees and back a moment of respite, wiping away the sweat on your forehead. You let your eyes wander over what had become your pride and joy over the last year: your garden. It sprawled across four large plots, all housing a variety of fruits, vegetables, and herbs, changing with the seasons. You always felt proud when you looked over all your hard work, and even now was no exception, a smile landing on your face.

The garden provided for you, and what you didn’t need you sold, earning a pretty decent amount of money from it. It wasn’t like you struggled for money, still having ties to your family’s massive amount of wealth, but you had a mere fraction, just enough to be comfortable, and you were happy like that.

Glancing at the basket beside you, you realized that it wouldn’t be able to hold any more produce. With an audible groan, you stood, your back and knees cracking loudly. It took a bit of effort, but you managed to hoist the basket into your arms, heading into the small abode.

Your new home was small, significantly smaller than the estate you grew up in, and Hans’s house. But you wouldn’t have anything else; you found that the large houses felt more like a prison. And besides, you had a bit of a connection to the small wood cabin; you did help build it, after all.

The door creaked open, heading straight to the dining room and kitchen, where you unceremoniously dumped your contents onto the counter. You needed to clean the produce, but you were going to get washed up first.

Wiping your hands on your pants, you entered the bedroom, which only stood a few feet away from the kitchen. You quickly discarded your soiled clothes, adding them to the large pile on the floor, mentally reminding yourself to do the laundry. Using the washbin, you cleaned your body, the water in the basin turning muddy and gross. Another task for you to do later.

Redressing, you were about to head back to the kitchen when something caught your eye. Sitting on the bed was a familiar leather-bound book, something that you hadn’t seen in quite some time. It was usually kept tucked away with Arthur’s stuff, and you were quite confused as to what it was doing sitting out.

Nostalgia hit you like a train, a fond yet somber look on your face as you made your way to it. The leather was soft when you picked it up, worn after spending so much time in the outlaw’s hands.

You hadn’t opened it yet, too caught in the memories that the journal resurfaced. So caught up that you didn’t hear the front door open, or someone call out your name. You didn’t hear as someone approached the bedroom, making you drop the book when they called out your name again, this time significantly closer.

Spinning around, you were met with the beautiful sight of Arthur Morgan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. An amused smile graced his lips as he walked in, meeting you halfway in an embrace. He’d been gone less than a day, yet you still missed him dearly, as you always did when he was away from you.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, darlin’,” you heard him chuckle, chin resting on top of your head after kissing it. “Thought ya heard me the first time.”

You shook your head, at least as best you could. “You’re still too sneaky for your own good, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur scoffed in mock offense, pulling back so that he could look at you. “And I apologize, Mrs. Morgan.” As he spoke, his fingers moved to the chain around your neck, where a band of gold adorned with a diamond sat on your neck. It was where it sat when you gardened, not wanting to risk it getting dirty or worse. Every other time, though, it sat on your finger, the weight comforting, something you never thought you’d say.

There was a mini-ritual you and Arthur would do when you’d have the ring around your neck. He’d take it off, before sliding the ring back onto the proper finger, just like he’d done for the first time over a year ago.

And that’s what he did, kissing the back of your hand when he was done. You laughed lightly at his antics, adoring every second of it. Every day, you fell deeper in love with him, if such a thing was even possible.

“Bounty go alright?” You asked, your eyes roaming his body for any visible wounds. You wouldn’t lie and say that you liked that Arthur continued to do bounty hunting, but you knew he needed it. As long as he stayed safe, that was all you cared about. Besides, it didn’t hurt to have a bit more money.

Arthur sighed. “As well as it could’ve. Talked my ear off durin’ the ride back. As if that would save him from the fate he brought on himself. Bastard was caught stealin’ from an orphanage. An orphanage. And I thought I’d seen low.”

“Seems like the type of person who needed to be locked up, then.”

“You can say that again,” he grumbled. “Most of ‘em will go unpunished, though.”

“But it’s a start,” you countered.

“It’s a start,” he agreed, not having let go of your hand yet. “I saw the kitchen. Productive day?”

“Very. I was thinkin’,” you began, “we could head to Saint Denis tomorrow, sell it, maybe spend the night there.” Emerald Station was only a twenty-minute ride from your house, so it wouldn’t be undoable.

“I won’t say no, but is there a reason why?”

You shrugged. “Do I’ve gotta have a reason to spend the day with you?”

“No, you don’t,” he smiled. “It’s a date, then.”

You hummed in response with a smile of your own. Your smile widened when he pulled you closer, lips planted on top of your head.

“Seems I forgot to put something away,” Arthur murmured as his eyes flicked to the journal you’d dropped onto the bed. His eyes, which were once again filled with that familiar spark of life. “I found it this mornin’. Never thought I’d see the damn thing again.”

“I didn’t look at it,” you were quick to say. You were fairly certain that he wouldn’t be upset at you looking through his journal, but old habits die hard.

“You know I don’t mind,” he sighed, making his way to the bed, you following close behind. “Ain’t anythin’ in here that you don’t probably know.” The bed creaked as he sat, adjusting until his back was against the headboard, groaning as he stretched his legs out. With the journal in one hand, he patted the space beside him. “But we can still take a look.”

You held back a question about if he was certain; he trusted you with these things. Instead, you cuddled up beside him, and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you close. What you weren’t expecting, though, was for him to just hand the journal to you. “Enjoy the writings of a madman,” you heard him joke, making you shake your head lightly, a chuckle leaving you.

“You ain’t mad, Arthur. At least not completely.”

“I’m mad for you, darlin’.”

You groaned at that, making him laugh. “You sap.” Your heart thrummed happily in your chest, and he knew it.

“Can’t help it,” he said in defense. “It’s so easy to be when it’s with you.”

Another small groan left you, this time out of a bit of embarrassment, your cheeks warm. Unable to think of anything to say in response, you chose to open up the book instead, Arthur chuckling beside you.

The first page was a ledger, with initials on the left side, and money on the right. On the other side was a map of Blackwater. You’d learned all about what happened in Blackwater, memories of when Arthur first sat by your side and showed you his journal coming back.

The next handful of pages you glanced through recounted the events that had happened before the ferry job, all of which Arthur had already told you about. Then it was on to Colter, and you saw the sketch you’d seen of John again.

You continued to flip through the pages, beautiful images of animals, plants, and people catching your eye, reading the adjacent text that was sometimes near illegible. You had to admit it was quite lovely to see the world the way Arthur sees… saw it. Familiar faces appeared on the pages, making you smile, some fondly, some sadly. Arthur would occasionally add a bit of his thoughts as you read, but he mostly kept to himself, choosing to just watch the way you reacted instead. All of these stories you’d heard already; he had nothing more to add.

It was when you got to when the gang first arrived at Rhodes that you began to see new things, but you quickly understood why Arthur never told you these stories; you already knew them. They involved you.

You had to admit that seeing a sketch of the outside Hans’ house threw you for a loop, a small gasp leaving you. It had been so long since you’d seen it, the last time being when you’d retrieved all of your belongings over a year and a half ago, a few days after Arthur left. You still remember how numb you felt, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of your days rotting, but Maggie prevented that from happening, practically dragging you down to the house. You might’ve not been grateful for her then, but you were now. She helped you not to get lost in your grief.

Just like he had promised, everything had been taken care of when you arrived. If Hans ever got a proper burial or ended up in some ditch, you’d never know. And, quite honestly, you didn’t care.

You hadn’t grabbed much, a few items of clothing, the documents from Hans’ office as well as a few books, and the lockbox beneath your bed. All the furniture remained, ready for the new family that had bought the house. They kept marveling at the low price you’d sold it to them for, unknowing of the history those walls held. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, right?

No one knew the truth about Hans, except for you, a few of your family members, Sadie, and Arthur. To the rest of the world, Hans Kerrigan was murdered by your brother in a business meeting gone bad, leaving behind his estate and wealth to his heartbroken wife, and your brother in prison for the rest of his life (it had taken some persuading, but you managed to avoid the death penalty). For about a week after that news hit the papers, you had lines of suitors asking for your hand, their eyes set on the wealth you held. You turned them all down, easily.

As for the wealth you inherited, you gave a good portion of it back to your family, before donating the rest. No person needed that much money; there were others who needed it more. You made sure it was distributed to genuine causes, orphanages, shelters, hospitals, things like that. You made sure it was anonymous as well, not doing this for gratification.

After the matter of the house was settled, you moved on to dismantling his moonshine business. It took about a month, but eventually, all of his shacks were emptied; what became of them, you had no clue. That was far out of your control now.

You’d received quite a few threats during that time, all from angry partners of Hans’, but their threats were usually empty. Usually. There were a few instances of them showing up at your family’s estate, their words filled with promises of violence and worse, but they were quickly made an example of by the outlaw beside you.

You hadn’t realized you’d gone silent, lost in your thoughts until you heard your name being uttered by said outlaw. “You alright?” He asked, and you nodded, shooting him an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, it’s just… a lot of memories comin’ back, you know?”

Arthur hummed in confirmation. “Is this too much?”

You shook your head. Even if it was distressing at times, it was good to go back over the past, as long as you didn’t get caught up in it. And you knew you wouldn’t; Arthur would make sure that. “I’m good. I promise.”

When Arthur seemed content with your response, you turned your attention back to the journal in your hands. The sketch was still startling to you, but it became less so after a few moments. The text beside it read: Robbed a homestead tonight, out by Ringneck Creek - or at least tried to until I ran into the owner. But instead of screaming, she offered me money. Didn’t stick around to see if her offer was genuine. Located as subtext at the bottom was Mr. Kerrigan?, indicating that Arthur noted to look further into Hans.

“My offer was genuine,” you commented, making Arthur scoff.

“Still don’t know why you did that.”

You shrugged. You weren’t quite sure either, but it didn’t matter.

Reading the words again, you couldn’t help but let the absurdity of the situation wash over you: the man who had broken into your house was now the love of your life, who now saw with his arm strung around your body. A soft chuckle left you, making Arthur hum inquisitively. “I just can’t believe that’s how we met,” you laughed. “Never in a million years did I imagine this,” you pointed to the text, “would lead to this,” you gestured to the way Arthur held you.

“Me neither,” he agreed. “Hellova story, though.”

That it was.

The next two pages contained a sketch of the town of Rhodes, followed by some text about the town, becoming deputies, and the blood feud between the Grays and the Braithwaites, something you’d completely forgotten about. But after that was a small excerpt about you and Hans.

Of course, the house I tried to rob last night belonged to one of the wealthiest men in Lemoyne, if not the States. It was his wife I ran into, Mrs. Kerrigan, whom I also saw in Rhodes, alongside her husband. She recognized me immediately but kept her mouth shut, thank God, or else Dutch’s plan would’ve been ruined then and there.

“Why didn’t you say anythin’?” Arthur asked, still never receiving a proper answer.

And you were going to disappoint him again, whispering, “I don’t know.” But then you added, “I think a part of me just knew.”

“That wasn’t the only time you caught me off guard that day,” he admitted, and you cocked your head, your curiosity piqued. “I wasn’t expectin’ ya to be so… tolerable to talk to, bein’ someone of your status. I also wasn’t expectin’ to enjoy your company so much… and I knew I wanted to get to know ya more.”

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint, then,” you chucked as you flipped the page, not expecting to see a sketch of you. Hans was standing beside you, but you could tell that a little more effort was put into your drawing than his. It was a small drawing, yet you could still read the discontent expression on your face, the tired look in your eyes. You were glad to say you hadn’t seen that look on you in a long time.

The next few entries about you were within a couple of pages of each other.

Sheriff Gray asked me to stop by the Kerrigan’s place, seemed real worried about their safety. Mrs. Kerrigan was outside, spent some time talking to her. She asked me to stop by every couple of days, paid, of course. I’ll see what I can do.

Stopped by the Kerrigan’s today, got paid, just like she promised. Ain’t nothing small, either. An opportunity, perhaps. She’s a strange woman, though, but she’s good. I would be a liar if I said I didn’t feel something towards her, but I can’t do anything about that.

I’m afraid I’m getting too close to Mrs. Kerrigan. She offered me dinner, and there was no way I could say no to her. No matter how many times I try not to, I end up touching her, but she doesn’t seem to be against it. She asked a lot of questions today, but I found I could tell her nothing but the truth, although I did manage not to confess everything. I’d never forgive myself if I scared her away.

Accompanying the last paragraph was a little sketch of the lighter Arthur had given you, causing your eyes to look over to the nightstand, where said gift sat. It had gotten hardly any use since you’d received it; at most, it lit a few candles. Still, you kept it close, as it was the first gift Arthur had ever given to you.

I can’t stop thinking about her.

It was the only text on the page, following a larger sketch of your face. It was a side profile, most likely captured from the day the two of you had sat side-by-side in the living room talking. How he managed to remember so much detail still astounded you; the drawing was nearly exact.

You felt as Arthur rubbed his neck, a nervous habit of his that you’d learned. When you glanced over, the red on his cheeks made it clear that he wasn’t nervous; he was embarrassed. “You regretting lettin’ me look at this?” You teased, ready to close the journal at any notice, though.

“I ain’t… but I sure as hell feel like a creep.” He gestured to the sketch of you.

That made you chuckle. In any other circumstance, it was creepy, but to you, it was simply endearing. “Only a little,” you admitted, making him groan, “but it’s sweet. And I don’t have many photos from then, so it’s nice to see what I looked like then, even if it was only a short bit ago.”

“You still look the same,” Arthur spoke slowly, confused.

And you did, physically at least. But there was a liveliness to you now, something that hadn’t existed during those two years of marriage, slowly returning when you met Arthur, and that was nearly extinguished when he left.

You still remember the day Arthur came back into your life like it was yesterday. It occurred about a month and a half after Arthur originally left, and to say you weren’t doing alright was an understatement. Yet you persevered, Arthur’s letter flashing in your mind whenever you wanted to give up.

It was another day of trying to figure out everything with Hans, while simultaneously learning from your father about how to run the tobacco farm. It was harder than you expected, but you didn’t let that stop you. You learned all about the crop until you could recite information about it in your sleep. You learned about how to manage employees, and how to provide for them as well as your family. You learned how to take care of the family’s finances, to balance the wages of those under your employment. You had to learn all that, and then you had to fix the two years of damage your brother had done.

If you thought Hans’ office was a mess, it was nothing compared to your brothers. Long days turned into long nights as you sorted through the mess of papers and books until you physically couldn’t anymore. More often than not, you fell asleep in the office, waking to your father knocking lightly on the door.

This night was no different than the others, rousing from the uncomfortable spot on the floor with a groan as your father stood in the doorway. Piles of papers sat around you, nearly getting knocked over as you stretched. But what was different this night was instead of leaving, like he normally did, your father lingered in the doorway.

“There’s someone here to see you,” was all he said.

“At this hour?” You glanced outside, expecting to see a dark night sky, but were startled when you were met with a sunrise. Early, but not too early for guests. “Who is it?” You grumbled, rubbing sleep from your eyes, before trying to make yourself presentable.

Your father’s silence did more to worry than reassure you, and so you asked again. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself,” he eventually responded, having known about your relationship with Arthur. He had to know, after all, he was the one who found you out in the courtyard, curled up in the dirt. Not for a second did you think that you were about to see Arthur again.

You hadn’t talked about Arthur since then, your father answering questions about him for you. But he was all you could think of, even when you were deep in work. Every day was extremely busy, per your intention, desperate for any reprieve from thinking about him. And you weren’t even free in your dreams, glimpses of a life you’d never have tormenting you nightly. You’d become a shell of your former self, and you were unsure if you were ever going to feel “normal” again.

Curious, and also worried, you followed your father out of the office, and down to the front entrance. As you walked, you wracked your mind over who it could be, understanding that you weren’t going to get an answer from your father. Was it a suitor? An angry partner of Hans’? They weren’t usually so mannered, choosing to stay outside of the house rather than face you themselves. For a second, you thought it might be Sadie, but that still didn’t explain why your father was acting so weird.

So imagine your shock when standing in the foyer, a little worse for wear yet alive, was Arthur. He had turned to face you upon hearing your arrival, a soft yet cautious smile on his face. Your father excused himself once realizing that the two of you needed privacy, making sure all the doors were shut and that it was just the two of you in the grand room.

Still standing at the top of the stairs that overlooked the room, you were stuck in place, unable to bring yourself to move. You weren’t sure if you wanted to run back the way you came or run down the stairs into his arms. A part of you was convinced that this was all some dream and that you’d wake in a few moments with no one beside you.

“Arthur?” You whispered, disbelieving what was in front of you. This wasn’t real, right?

If you weren’t so surprised, you would’ve expected him to make a joke at his expense. But all that left him was a quiet, “Yes.” It was as if he, too, was stunned at seeing you again, his eyes glimmering with emotion.

You still hadn’t made up your mind over what you wanted to do, but your legs decided for you, nearly stumbling over themselves as you ran down the stairs. The momentum in which you ran into him caused him to nearly fall over, but he held strong, his arms wrapping around your body and lifting you into his arms. You could feel tears streaming down your face as you buried it into the crook of his neck, your arms, and legs securing themselves around his body, barely noting that he’d gained back the weight he’d lost while he was sick. In fact, most of his strength seemed to be back, no longer struggling to hold you like he had last time, which you hadn’t noticed at the time.

“Y-You…” you tried to speak, but to no avail. You couldn’t formulate a sentence yet, and he seemed to understand.

He didn’t respond, just tightening his embrace, afraid that you would disappear from his arms. He held you for an indeterminate amount of time, until you untangled your legs from around his body, needing to see his face again.

He looked significantly better than he had, his eyes no longer bloodshot, but the bags under his eyes had yet to disappear. His skin was no longer sickly, either, with a healthy glow that came from his time out in the sun. His hair was longer, reaching his shoulders now, and still as soft as you remembered when you ran your fingers through it.

“I thought you were dead.” It tried to sound accusatory, but it came out as a soft admission instead.

“Me too. I really did.”

“Then… how?”

“I ain’t quite sure. I don’t remember much, really, I… I remember bein’ up on that mountain, with Dutch and Micah. And then I was alone, lookin’ over the sunset… and I thought that was it.” Arthur took a deep breath, noticeably clear of any rasping. “But it’s like my body refused to give up. I didn’t… couldn’t leave things the way I did. It took a hell of a lot of effort, but I made my way off that mountain. I only remember glimpses after that… but eventually, I woke up in a sanitarium. I was released a few days ago.”

So your panicked delusions were right; if you had taken him in, he would’ve gotten better. You wanted to be angry at his stubbornness, for his acceptance of his fate, but like always, you couldn’t. “But you’re okay?”

“For the most part, yes.” Upon your confused and worried expression, he explained further. “The damage it’s done to my body, that ain’t ever goin’ away. It’s just somethin’ I’ve gotta deal with now.”

“We have to deal with it,” you corrected. “Let me help you.” A pause. “Stay with me.”

Arthur had a shocked expression as if he wasn’t expecting you to be so willing to have him back. You wondered how often he played this scenario out in his head, and how many times he imagined you would tell him to leave. And maybe you should be more angry at him, to punish him for what he’d done, but you’d risk pushing him away forever. You’d gone long enough without him, though. You needed him back by your side.

“Alright,” was all Arthur said, already knowing his answer to your question. There was no hesitancy in his voice, only a deep and unwavering devotion to you. “I ain’t leavin’ you again, dalrin’.”

“Darlin’?” You heard Arthur’s voice, from the present this time, calling you once again out of your memories. “You’re worryin’ me.”

You ignored his concern, feeling almost drunk in the sheer amount of love you felt for the man as you looked at him. “I love you,” you whispered, although it wasn’t a secret.

That caught Arthur off-guard, but only for a single second, before a smile of his own grew on his face. “I love ya too.”

You’d never tire of hearing him say those words; it came so easily now.

Flipping the page, you felt him pull you the tiniest bit closer to his side, making you chuckle lightly. The next excerpt voiced his concerns about letting Dutch and Hosea work with you. In the end, nothing bad ever happened because of them, but of course, Arthur didn’t know that at the time. You could feel his anxiety radiating off his words, his already messy handwriting even more so.

The next page contained details of the deal you made with the two men and his disapproval of it, but that he couldn’t make that decision for you. You’d later find out that Hosea and Dutch did receive a significant amount of money from Hans during Bronte’s party, meaning that your deal was fulfilled.

But he also wrote: I wouldn’t trust myself to make any decision, not around her. It’s like my brain just shuts off, and I’d make a damn fool of myself. I nearly thought I did, but tonight ended better than I could’ve hoped for.

Next in the timeline of you and Arthur was the span of three and a half weeks that Hans was home, and Arthur had to keep his distance. His entires started off as small comments of complaint, a general displeasure of only being able to look at you. But as the days progressed, they became more frequent, and longer, until it was taking up the page. More and more sketches appeared, intermixed with the other entries and drawings, like you were always in the back of his mind. You were glad to know you weren’t the only one missing the other terribly during this time.

On the next page was a landscape drawing, the view you and Arthur had when he took you out on Bear for the first time. Bear, who currently sat in his stable outside, had become a loyal steed to you. Before Arthur’s return, there were many times the two of you would set out alone, just simply wandering, both missing the man beside you terribly.

She wasn’t wearing her ring. I damn near lost my mind. I know I’m thinking too much into things, but hope is a powerful thing. There are so many things I want to say to her, but I am a coward. I’m too afraid to even admit them to myself. Maybe I’ve pushed things too far. Maybe I should stop this. But I need it too much.

Then came the shootout in Rhodes, and the stretch of time after that.

Guilt eats at me every day, but I can’t see her. I shouldn’t see her. It’ll be dangerous if I do, and I’d never forgive myself if my selfishness caused her harm. This is for the best, no matter how much I wish it weren’t.

A few pages later: Of course, Javier gave her a ride. Of course, it was him. And of course, he had to let the others know about our situation. I can feel their eyes, their judgments. They don’t know how much I’m already beating myself over this.

I really shouldn’t see her. But I am a selfish man.

Damn it all.

You were going to make a comment about Javier, about how nice he had been to you, but you reconsidered. The fallout of the gang was still a fresh wound, barely having begun to heal, and you feared any comment from you might reopen it.

She loves me. Something I do not deserve, but she seemed so adamant. I do not deserve to wake up in her arms, do not deserve her kindness. If only she knew the things I’ve done. Would she still love me unconditionally still?

Even then, you knew the things Arthur had done; it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. And if you had been reading the papers, which you had, you’d’ve known of the Van Der Linde gang and their deeds, although they weren’t as bad as some of the others. In recent times, Arthur came clean, so to speak, about the blood on his hands, and the deeds he would most likely still commit. An old dog can’t learn new tricks, is what he had said.

It seemed he was wrong, though, having partially hung up the outlaw lifestyle. No longer living on the run, he now had a tangible place to call home, a place to rest without fear. He’d found some more socially acceptable jobs, although not by much, bounty hunting if the pay was decent. But it wasn’t the robbing and thieving he’d been doing for his entire life, which he thought he’d do for the rest of time.

It wasn’t until after you and Arthur got married that the law finally got off his tail, the bounty posters slowly disappearing, allowing Arthur to finally breathe. He had a fresh start, a new life ahead of him, with you by his side.

He wasn’t the only one starting fresh, though. After Arthur’s return, you stayed as head of the house for about another month, before bestowing most of the duties to your sister, Maggie. Now that Arthur was back, you weren’t content with that position anymore. Of course, you visited frequently, offering help and advice if needed, but you let most of it go. You wanted a quiet life now, and you certainly weren’t going to get it there.

It was then you bought the small cabin together, marrying shortly thereafter. It was a private ceremony, attended by your family, as well as Sadie, who seemed to be the only person from the Van Der Linde gang that was still close by. Arthur didn’t say anything, but you knew it meant a lot to him that she showed.

It was about a few weeks into your marriage that you saw first-hand the lingering effects the disease had on his body. It was like a switch had flipped, Arthur waking up one morning in agony, coughing like had when he was sick. For a while, you dreaded that it had come back, and this time it was taking it with him. But after a day or two, it passed, Arthur quickly regained his strength, and before long he was back to normal.

Those days happened occasionally, increasing in frequency during the colder months, but he bounced back each time. And even on the days he was doing good, if he overexerted himself, you’d hear that wheeze creep back into his lungs before getting shooed away by an annoyed cough from the man.

He hadn’t had an episode like that in a while, and a part of you hoped that his body was slowly recovering and that maybe one day these episodes would cease entirely.

It was so easy to feel hopeful now. Life finally felt easy, with no burden or expectations on either of you. When you thought of the future now, everything felt possible, achievable. Because of that, you felt yourself slowly begin to close the journal, making Arthur hum curiously.

“I don’t wanna think about the past anymore. Not today,” you explained, and you felt Arthur nod. You didn’t want to tell him that you were getting close to the memories that still haunted you, still plagued your dreams. You didn’t want to feel that dread again, not when you felt so hopeful, so light. And besides, everything worked out in the end. What good would it do you to think of the alternatives?

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” he sighed, the furrow in his brow deepening when he saw you were almost giddy with laughter. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“Nothin’,” you managed to say, turning your body so that you were facing him. “I’m just… so happy.”

Arthur relaxed, a light chuckle of his own leaving him. Your laughter returned when he tugged you into him, your hands planting on his chest, your legs on either side of his hips. His hands moved to now cup the sides of your face, gazing at you with pure adoration. “You make me happy, darlin’.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his words; he still rendered you speechless sometimes. Instead, you closed the distance between your lips, sighing contently at the contact. You could feel his lips curled tight into a smile, never leaving yours as he turned you over until your back rested against the bed.

Arthur pulled away then, choosing to rest his head on your chest, fingers trailing aimlessly up and down your arms before you wrapped them around him. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until then, sleepiness making you yawn. “You tired?” Arthur asked, and you nodded.

“I think I’m gonna sleep for a bit, “ you admitted. “Stay with me?”

You only meant staying in the bed with you, but there was a somber sincerity on his face as he leaned over you. “I ain’t leavin’ you. Never.”

You were so quick with pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose that he flinched, before chuckling softly. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Author's Note: this is a completely different ending than the one i had planned for this story, but i cound’t bring myself to go through with it once i saw how attached everyone got to the story. i’ll probs upload it seperaty (tumblr only) because i was ready to go full angst. and honestly, i like this ending better. arthur and reader deserve a happy ending, no matter if its “unrelalistic”.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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suzukiblu · 10 months ago

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song-exchange WIP Wednesday response for @tarheelwindrunner: I’ve told you before, but Call Me Cute and Feed Me Sugar’s version of Tim gives me ALL the Midnights and Reputation vibes, so that’s somehow both Mastermind and Look What You Made Me Fo by Taylor Swift.

Kon doesn’t text him back right away; Tim goes back to his corkboard for a little while and starts working on some more pros and cons of smartwatches. There’s a decent amount of pros, but he doesn’t necessarily want to give Kon something else he might worry about breaking, so a smartwatch might not be ideal for–

Kon called him “daddy” in all three texts he sent after he told him he’d call him “baby” if he kept it up, Tim belatedly realizes, and then stopped texting. So is he teasing him, or . . .

Well. Is Kon just teasing him, or is Kon trying to get him to follow through on the “threat” he made there? Does he actually want him to call him . . .

#tarheelwindrunner #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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folkwhore1998 · 3 months ago

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And I don't know how it gets better than this.

Let's talk about Fearless on the eras tour!

The fearless set is literally perfection and I am not even joking. I would not have changed a single song. (I maybe would have added one, but I would not have wanted any taken off of the set list)

It is so nostalgic and brings me back to my middle school years. I had this baby spinning on a CD with my corded headphones.

Opening up with Fearless as the first song is so special and I can't explain it, but I feel like it scratches my brain just right. Love Story, You Belong With Me, and Fearless are classic bops and songs you think of when you think Taylor Swift, and there is no better way to honor the era than to play the songs everyone knows and loves. Hot take: I think Forever and Always x Mr.Perfectly Fine mashup would have been so epic, or either one on its own. Despite this; I truly think that the setlist was perfect.

The Fearless era outfits are so much fun and I think they're such a good ode to her baby fearless era. But, my absolute favorite has to be...

The short gold body suit/dress. I just love it so much and it is the most fearless thing I've ever seen. It is stunnnnning.

The tiger stripe body suit/dress is a fairly new addition to the wardrobe and I love it! I would not have expected it and was very surprised when it made its debut.

Silver and gold noodle dresses are not my favorites, but I can say they are incredibly unique and I've never seen dresses like them before.

The black and gold tassels is another fun one as well and I feel she loves a good tassel moment. It's especially fun for this set because of all of the spins she does during the set.

I'm actually very surprised that fearless has so many different outfits in rotation. There are some that get worn than others, but they all get a decent amount of stage time which is why think it's the perfect number of outfits.

Another very important thing to note about the Fearless set is the bedazzled guitar. I can't even put into words how much I love it. I feel like sometimes artists can become disconnected from their roots. Granted, I am not an artist, but I am a person, and this is a common thing that happens with people. Famous or not- it doesn't matter. However, I think this just speaks to the artist Taylor is and the amount of work she puts into her craft. The attention to detail is insane and I can just tell she takes great amounts of pride in her work, no matter how long far back it goes. I wonder if re-recording her albums healed her inner child at all. I know it did for me.

It's the fact her and her family bedazzled the guitar together as well. I just love everything about it.

Favorite Fearless Eras Tour moments:

PLAY FEARLESS!!!!!!!!

youtube

I can't tell you why, but the opening just makes me incredibly emotional.

Question: Does anyone think the Fearless set should have also been a cross over with Taylor Swift/Debut in the way folklore and evermore are together? I really wish debut would have made it onto the show!

@taylornation @taylorswift

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kingofmyborrowedheart · 1 year ago

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Travis acknowledging that there are aspects of the relationship that are private and some that are more public but still being open to finding a balance between the two as it goes must be incredibly refreshing for Taylor seeings as she’s dealt with both very public and very private relationships in the recent past.

#taylor swift #like he’s aware that he’s going to get asked stuff and clearly they’ve discussed what they’re willing to share and what they’re not #like understanding that they’ll go and adjust as they feel must be nice #it seems like there’s a decent amount of balance for them and they’re happy with it which is all that matters #and I think the fact that they can choose what they want to share through the pod is helpful since it’s on their terms #just watched the new pod with my mom

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loge2718 · 4 months ago

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Guilty as Sin? 💙

Thrawn x Reader - A song fic!

Song: Guilty as Sin? - Taylor Swift

Summary: Moving to Lothal for a promising job that was given by the Empire was a bold move for you. Here in Lothal, you felt lonely. Until a certain Grand Admiral came into the picture. You wanted something more than casual. But, does he want it to?

Tags & Warnings: No smut, just mentions of sex, slight angst at the end

A/N: I didn’t specify the reader’s gender here but, since this is purely a self-indulgence fanfiction and the art that I made for is also purely self-indulging, I imagined the reader here is female.

Word count: 1.6K

Y'all... I have not written any (fan)fiction in such a long time, so, apologies in advance... I'd be posting the video and the art that I made for this fic in a different post, in case you don't like the fanfic and just would like to reblog the art you can find it here (X)

Out of all the people in this planet, out of all the people in this outer-rim, out of all the people in this galaxy. You are in a situationship with him.

That ran through your thought as he traced his finger around your upper thigh. It feels like he was writing something, that you were not so sure. Perhaps something in his language?

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind?

He is, of course, the alien that rose through the ranks of the Imperial Navy like it was nothing. The Grand Admiral. Mitth'raw'nuruodo from the Unknown Region. Or as he lay beside you, cuddling you in a desperate embrace… Just Thrawn. You wish you could stay in this moment forever, this will be the death of you.

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze Oh what a way to die

-💙💙💙-

Thrawn, the man you met in an art gallery here at Lothal. You arrived at Lothal just a few months prior, still adapting to your new job, new surroundings. Your family and friends are all the way in the mid-rim. You moved here because the Empire promised you a better paying job. However, with that decision, it left you stranded in Lothal, alone. In a way, you both are similar.

There you were sitting in front of a painting by a local artist hundreds of years ago. So focused on the painting, taking in every detail. Subconsciously, you started to zoned out with everything that was going on with your mind.

Moving away… Moving away has been difficult for you, you were born and raised in your homeplanet, you even got your full education there. The empire promised you a decent job with a good amount of money, but the catch was, the job was located in the outer-rim in a planet called Lothal. So far, the promise has been kept. Though, it did not hide the fact that you were lonely, very lonely.

"Do you like the painting?"

A smooth voice snapped you out of your trance. Yes. You did like the painting, it is relatable, you said. However, you continued, describing the one of the paintings that you were fond of from your home world. The one you often visit in the gallery, with family, friends and even ex-lovers.

"Interesting take" He said

"How about you, what do you think about it?"

And with that, one thing led to the other. First, it was just a simple introduction, Thrawn, he introduced himself and so did you. Then, the conversation went on for hours, and a couple different places… One of them was your newly owned bed. To say that he was amazing in bed was an understatement.

He understood you. He understood your body, he listened to your body. His touch felt like a warm fireplace on a cold winter night. His kiss felt like Heaven for the longing sinners. Each movement of his felt like waves crashing in the sea, bringing you closer and closer to shore.

You felt like this could be a start of something, or just a one night stand. Nevertheless, that was an experience, a really good one indeed. Even so, you didn't know who he was. He was just another man you brought home that night. That being said, Thrawn. his name still echoed in your mind on some sleepless nights.

A few days later, at the grand opening of the Empire-owned factory where you were assigned as a project manager, he was there, accompanied by the Governor of Lothal. He was in his stunning white navy uniform. Ah so he works for the Imperial Navy, you contemplated. His uniform was also complemented with gold shoulder plates and… a Grand Admiral plaque. A Grand Admiral, you thought to yourself. Unbelievable, You have managed to sleep with him. One of the strongest, most influential and most adored people in the empire.

You must be… His voice came to a blur as he greeted you and introduced himself and you . That would not be the first time. Grand Admiral, it is nice to be acquainted with you, you replied. The days went on as usual, your higher up was luckily busy that day, so you were the one who was assigned to give the Grand Admiral a tour.

You were relieved at first, thinking that he would break the facade. However, that seems to be false. His voice stayed cold to you. He was really cold to you. As if you didn’t moan his name over and over a few nights ago. His demeanor was that of a stranger, even when you two were alone touring the freshly built factory. You understand that it is protocol, but it was torture. Before you knew it he departed, you thought that would be the last time you would ever see him.

Until it was not.

Not long after you arrived home you were surprised with your doorbell ringing. Strange, you thought. You were not expecting a visitor nor are you familiar with your neighbors yet. One look at the door feed got you sprinting to your front door. There stood Thrawn. He stepped in, and without saying a word he passionately took your lips in a deep kiss.

As the both of you broke the kiss, Nice to see you again… you said with a hint of sarcasm, but alas smiling. Then, he took your lips again. After all that, he carried you to bed. Surely the second time with him would not be as mind blowing as the first? No. You were wrong. It was, as a matter of fact, better.

"Thrawn, I thought I'll never see you again, especially after today…" you said while you were laying on his chest.

He disagreed. He said he would love to continue seeing you, being with you. This arrangement was of course with an exception. Nobody else has to know that we are intimate. he emphasized. That statement was not a surprise for you. That's easy enough, a price to pay being in bed with the notable Grand Admiral. you thought.

I keep recalling things we never did

You reach for his lips in response and agreement to his words. You were right, this one night stand did turn into a friend with benefits type of situation. But did you really want that? Or did you hope for something more?

Messy top lip kiss

A month or two have passed since you two made that agreement. Other than your apartment, he had brought you to a few different places. Lothal's only 5-star hotel was one of them, the cabin he owns in the far corner of Lothal was the other and even his personal Lambda shuttle. This little meetup of yours got you excited every time you saw his flagship - the Chimaera above the capital. His ISD in the sky of Lothal meant that he would be meeting you soon.

How I long for our trysts

As it was your day off, your neighbors, the one you got close with, started to be suspicious and started to question you. Who is the Pantoran you kept seeing? She asked. Nobody, he is just a friend. You answered immediately.

A friend would not have gifted you flowers. A friend would not kiss your forehead and lips before he left. A friend would not have fucked you so perfectly, so intimately. He would not have cared for you so gently too after sex. Yes. Just a friend. You repeated, reassuring yourself. You really wanted something more, did you?

Without ever touching his skin How can I be guilty as sin?

Later on that afternoon, as the Chimaera looms over the capital. He came to visit you. This time was different, this time he brought you flowers, not just any flowers that he often gave you. These were the flowers native to your homeplanet. He explained he had some work to do there, and might as well give these flowers to you, since he knows that they are dear to you. Thank you, Thrawn. you said as tears were forming in your eyes. You quickly ran inside and put them in a vase before jumping in Thrawn’s speeder.

Then, as per usual, he took you out for dinner first, continued by walking you to his hotel suite that he rented for the night. That was before everything snowballed into the unholy amount of things you both did in that hotel room.

He sent me 'Downtown Lights' I hadn't heard it in a while

Out of all of the people in this entire universe, you are with him. Laying in bed with him, receiving tender kisses throughout your delicate body. His finger tracing every inch of your skin. Stay the night with me, Thrawn. You begged. He murmured something that wasn't basic. You did not understand him at all, but his body language said it all.

He could not stay.

He pulled you closer and murmured something else, kissed you on the forehead. Your peace was disturbed by a chime from his comm. The chime turns out to be an emergency call. Earlier to that he thought he could stay with you for at least another hour. However, that plan was cut short. He got up, tidied himself and in a blink of an eye, he is gone yet again.

Your thoughts came rushing through your head like a gust of wind, as tears started forming in your eyes. Could we ever be more than this? You sobbed softly to the empty room. From the kisses he gave you, to all the good times you both had, to flowers he gave you from your homeplanet.

Could Thrawn and you be more than this?

Am I allowed to cry?

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