#clouds-queer-blog
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[PT: bluparfum
Definition pronounced "bluh-par-fin"
Colors
Etymology
Image ID /end PT]
+. || bluparfum
Definition pronounced "bluh-par-fin"
+. || bluparfum: an aromagender connected/related to the smell of blood. this gender is sharp and metallic. it can be dangerous if mishandled (ie; the gender feels more aggressive when it's misunderstood, misgendered, etc) +.|| term & flag coined by me (@/clouds-queer-blog) on June 7th, 2021
Colors
+. || currently no color meanings
Etymology
+. || "parfum" meaning perfume or fragrant +. || "bluh" being the first sound in blood
Image ID
+. || Image ID: two flags with seven stripes, with these colors from top to bottom: dull pink, dull dark brown-red, dull grayish brown-red, dull red, dull grayish brown-red, dull dark brown-red, dull pink. the flag on the right has a vector of a blood drop. ID Over
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🦜Misty Quigley🐾
Future WIP under the cut…
Reblogging helps artists! ^^
#king's paintbrush#artists on tumblr#yellowjackets#art#sketches#rough sketch#sketch#drawing#my artwork#black artist on tumblr#queer artist#yellowjackets fanart#yellowjackets showtime#misty quigley#misty#yj#the wilderness#yellowjackets art#Misty#hand art#hand drawings#age regression blog#sapphic art#yellowjackets season 3#digital art#ibispaintx#cloud art#sky painting#ibispaintapp#made in ibis paint
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pride flags part three!! feel free to send in any requests if ive missed yours!!
#emote blog#cute emoji#cute emote#emotes#emoji#discord emote#cloud slime#discord emoji#custom emote#pride emoji#emoji blog#custom emoji#pride emotes#pride flag#lgbt pride#neutrois#queer#graygender#maverique#genderflor#genderfaun#genderfae#alexigender#cassgender#trigender#fraysexual#lithromantic#reciprosexual#androgyne#aspec
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🍮🦴🍮
🦴🌊🦴
🍮🦴🍮
Aroace stimboard!
I love the idea of aroace miu *steals headcanon*
#stim#stim blog#stimblr#stimboard#lgbt#lgbtqia#pride#pride month#queer#aroace#asexual#aromantic#orange#yellow#white#blue#kandi#fursuit paws#candle#makeup#pin#cat#drink#fursuit#bracelet#makeup art#cloud#sun#peek a boo#kandicore
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Blue Moon Ball: Outfitting
“So what the hell, a ball? A formal ball?” Hemi looked over at Liam, ears ascanse. Liam’s long, clouded tail swished playfully behind him.
“Yep~! That’s what the letter said. The Blue Moon Ball. Two weeks from now on the Wizard Island, planar registry WIS-α-1.”
The lynx groaned and stretched as he stood from his well-cushioned seat. His upper body was wholly unclothed -- indeed, only a pair of trusty cargo shorts girded his tan fur. The tufted tips of his ears tingled a little as the energy current beside this reality shifted slightly. He approached and snatched the letter from Liam’s grasp.
“To Queer Wizard Council MEMBER and Hyper-Lynx, Hemi. Hello Magical Friend~☆…” And the invitation continued. An open bar, festivities, and a formal dress code, all described in impeccable hand-written cursive.
“I see…” Hemi muttered. He regarded Liam, his closest friend -- adorned in his typical flowing skirt and well-fitted vest, tail meandering through the cool air behind him, and wondered for just a moment if he should ask the clouded leopard to take his place. Then, the pride flag mounted on the cavern wall caught his eye, and he remembered his obligations.
“What’s the matter?” Liam asked, ears lowering just slightly. “This should be a lot of fun!”
“I’ve never… been to a big formal party like this, so I… don’t really know how any of it works. I’ve also only been to Wizard Island Island for business before, it’s not really… like, I don’t know my way around there at all.”
Liam chuckled. “You’re not one to turn down an adventure, so I don’t buy that that’s the problem.”
“...There’s also the matter of the dress code.”
“Hm! I figured that was the issue. “ Liam began to pace through the workshop. Pieces of unfinished arcane devices littered the counters, glass containers housed samples from distant realities, and a few piles of boxes were still, after months, residing at the sides of the closed cavern chamber. He stopped in front of the makeshift wardrobe -- just a wooden frame around a bar with various shorts hanging, completely in the shadow of a large mechanical air purifier. “I know your outfit choices are usually pretty… spartan, but this is a big event! Dozens or more wizards will be there, and everyone will have put a lot of effort into their outfit. I don’t think just finding your least dirty pair of pants will help you here.”
“I-- hesitate to ask this, but, what alternative do you have in mind? I’m not likely to fit any of your clothes either…” It was true-- Liam was almost a full head taller than Hemi, so sharing clothes was out of the question.
“Well, then we’ll just have to go clothes shopping for you!”
“...Can’t I just, find a good cheesy wizard hat or something? Cut some ear holes, call it a day?”
Liam’s face darkened. “Well, you could do that. For a ball of wizards, you might not even stand out. But, aren’t you a member of the Queer Wizard Council? Specifically one of the ambassadors of the gay identity?”
“Oh, you’re not about to--”
“I am! Friend, there are Expectations on you, justified or not. I won’t condone you showing up with absolutely no effort in your outfit. It doesn’t have to be like what I wear, I just want you to make a good impression! These wizards are powerful allies -- don’t you want to get to know them?”
Hemi sighed and flopped back down onto the chair he was still next to. “...Fine. We’ll go clothes shopping. But you’re doing the astrogation.”
“Ehe, I knew you’d see things my way! You won’t regret this!” With that, he practically pounced over to the divining orb and began running the numbers.
Hemi had almost fallen asleep by the time that Liam returned to him with a piece of discarded scroll paper.
“Here! A full charted course.”
Hemi sat up and looked it over. It was a pretty straight shot through the phantasmal plane to reach… “Terastra… Is this just an excuse to visit your homeworld, Liam?”
“I mean… no! It’s not. It’s almost spring on my continent of origin, so the blooming festivals will be kicking off soon. They’re tied to the new moon, so I figure the motifs should line up. Plus, if we get lucky with the time alignment, the plaza might already be pretty well decorated.”
Hemi hesitated for a moment, but then stood up again. “Alright. Let’s do this. Better to leap then stay in place, right?”
Liam’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit!”
They both stepped onto the pedestal that formed the center of the entire chamber -- the place set aside for traversal work. The tips of Hemi’s ears sparked and shone with indigo and lavender, bringing a strange vertigo over both of them for just a moment. Hemi traced his claw along the lines of the pattern from the paper, then huffed and crouched.
“Three seconds!” He called out. Liam crouched down too.
Hemi bobbed his head a few times, running the final calculations in his head, and then leapt into the air and sliced outward with extended claws. The air tore open, and from the wound a prismatic light burst onto the chamber. Hemi’s momentum carried him through, and a second later Liam lowered his eyes and leapt into the rift as well.
The void between worlds was beautiful, but in a fleeting way-- when one leaves it, the structure is lost as the story of a dream upon waking. So it was that Liam had almost no memory of the traversal itself when he came to his senses on the surface of his home planet. The air was crisp and cool, but the first tinge of spring’s humidity had already snuck into it. The grass around him was damp with morning dew. He found Hemi’s paw reaching down towards him and took it with a groan as he stood unsteadily.
“Feeling alright?” Hemi asked.
“Yes, sorry.”
“Not at all! It was my bad, I took us close to a turbulent zone. That being said… where are we?”
Liam blinked a few times and found that the two of them were, in fact, not in the plaza of any city, but were in the midst of a great pine forest. The untamed ground sloped upwards towards the gathering light of morning.
“Um-- hopefully, we’re just… next to the city?”
“...What precision did you use in the astrogation?”
“Five places?”
Hemi groaned. “We could be miles away…” He started trudging through the short grass towards the local peak. “Come on, maybe there’s a view over this bluff.”
It was a deceptively long distance to the bluff -- by the time they arrived, the sky was already very nearly blue. But, when they finally reached the top, both were wordlessly taken aback.
The cliff they had arrived at was, in fact, the edge of a great ridge that nearly surrounded the landed side of the vibrant city below. The shadow of the opposing cliffs still cast darkness over the white buildings, but the miniscule impressions of hundreds of people were already milling about in the city center, were the colors of spring had been lavished upon the streets in minuscule strands. Liam’s tail and ears recovered their former, perky status immediately.
“Hmh! Not bad for five decimal places.” Hemi remarked. “I might come back here on purpose some time.”
“I’m still sorry for the trouble. It might take all morning to hike down there.”
“We’ve got two weeks, right? There’s no rush. If you mess up your skirt we’ll be in a good place to get a new one, too.”
“--Right! Okay…”
They sat for a moment to watch the sunrise finish, and then continued on their way. Thankfully, a reasonable series of switchbacks existed to allow the downward voyage to be done without any significant climbing.
“They won’t like-- recognize you here, right?” Hemi asked as they approached the base of the hills. “I know you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff…”
“No, we should be fine on that front. It was a while ago, and I looked different at the time.”
“Damn. Was hoping for some ‘divine messenger’ discounts.”
“Ha!” Liam shook his head. “We should hope they don’t have any ‘divine messenger’ flaming arrows for us. But, again, it should be fine.”
When they finally breached the city walls, both cats were somewhat exhausted, so before they reached the plaza proper, they found a tea-serving restaurant of some kind to relax at. As promised, none of the residents seemed to think the two of them were at all unusual -- the residents and tourists occupied a wide array of distinct species. Mostly canids, it seemed, but felines and the odd cervid could be sighted in the streets.
As Hemi sipped on his (quite good!) cup of green tea, Liam tilted his head, caught by a passing idea. “So, Hemi, there’s one big choice we have to make before finding you clothes.”
“And what’s that?” As Hemi asked, he already had some idea of what this ‘choice’ would be, judging from the mirthful display across Liam’s face.
“Suits or skirts?”
Hemi sighed, but had no immediate response. To tell the truth, he’d been mulling that over the entire hike so far. Suits were, of course, more traditional for masculine-appearing beings, but he was there as a representative of the Queer Wizard Council, so everything would be open to him, but if he looked bad in something, it would be worse than having shown up in just shorts and a hat, and suits and ties all seemed very restrictive compared to what he was used to… it continued spinning around from there.
“I haven’t chosen.” He answered bluntly.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure you’d cut a dashing look in either. Since you don’t have a strong preference, we’ll have to try out some of both.”
Hemi squirmed a little in his seat, then tilted his head and let his ears fall back as he noticed Liam’s general expression. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you--?”
“It’s not every day I get to see you, of all people, flustered~”
“I’m not flustered!”
“Yes you are. Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart.”
“Don’t-- call me that… Damn it. Fine, it’s just not a comfortable thing, okay? Is that such a crime? I probably’ll look stupid no matter what I choose anyway so--”
“What? Don’t say that! I wasn’t joking earlier, I really do think you can pull it off!”
Hemi’s ears were low, and his little nub of a tail was moving back and forth through the cutout of the chair. His posture made him appear to be barely half of Liam’s size, and his voice became quiet but firm. “This is an important event, Liam. I’ve never even seen this many other wizards at once before, let alone-- partied with them. What if I end up making a bad impression? All of this is alien to me, literally more so than actual, like, alien life… I’ve literally been more comfortable climbing a volcano or spelunking a thousand miles under the surface of some rock no one has laid eyes upon since creation began.”
“Those things are physically perilous. That’s completely different then this-- social peril-- you’re feeling. I’m sorry for pressuring you… I, uh, think I got a little too excited.“
Liam was quiet for a moment. “If, you want to go home, this was still a nice day out. You can even discard the invitation if you want, I’m sure they’ve got plenty of attendees.”
“...No.” Hemi’s back straightened, and he took a deep breath in. “No, I need to do this. I can’t just live underground with you alone forever-- no offense. I need to get out there, get out of my own head and be seen by… anyone else. Anything else, then just me and the one writing all this down.”
“Huh?”
Hemi finished his tea and stood up. “I’m ready.”
Liam’s eyes went wild and he quickly finished the last small amount of his own tea as well. “Then, let’s do this--!”
The plaza burst and flowed with vibrant colors and moving bodies of all descriptions. A sea of horns and ears jostled about open-air stalls with perfumes, floral headdresses, fresh-grilled fish, and, finally, a veritable feast of clothes. Gowns, cocktail dresses, suits, ties… a hundred outfits for a thousand eyes. Above it all, streams of paper-made flowers that jostled in the gentle breeze, like candle fire against the immense blue sky.
Hemi tried on a suit first. As predicted, the feeling of his long body fur being constrained by the fabric was hard to stomach, and this particular suit made his head seem disproportionately too large. He tried another -- similar results, but it was a bit looser. Most of the outfits had some sort of floral design, but a few commemorated the moon as well -- unfortunately, each suit that had appropriate theming seemed to have some issue of comfort or price that disqualified it from consideration. Minutes passed, then tens of minutes. Almost an hour. Over an hour. Even Liam had begun to wear down, and that resolve the lynx had kindled within himself could only maintain itself for so long. The crowds kept throbbing and coursing down the cobblestones all the while.
In the distance, Hemi noticed something different as the attendant (a rather friendly coyote) and Liam were helping button together the latest too-tight suit. It was a cocktail dress (of the over-one-shoulder variety), formed from a deep blue-purple that matched the night sky above his home world on a clear night. Across its chest, it displayed a beautiful full moon, and it had a few frills down the sides that would match his face’s lynx-like cheek fur. It stood against a boutique stand that seemed to have little traction.
“How does it fit?” Liam asked of the suit he was already wearing, though he was able to guess given how much Hemi had squirmed while it was being fastened, when he caught Hemi’s gaze and followed it. “Oh~! Did you find something..?”
An invisible barrier formed around Hemi’s words as he was stricken again with doubt. It would be a bold statement -- one his generally not-that-attractive physique would butcher for sure. Liam took the coyote aside and whispered something in their ears. The coyote looked across the crowd, then back to Hemi, and put their paw under their chin for a moment before nodding. Liam’s smile became a gentle smirk.
“Well, what are you waiting for? You won’t know anything until you try it on.”
The lynx looked to Liam with a frightened expression, so Liam put a hand on his still-padded shoulder. “They’re wizards, Liam. Half of them will be wearing bones or slime or something.”
Hemi swallowed and, after another second nodded. “I want to try on that dress.” The words, alien as they might have been to his tongue, brought an electric feeling to the back of his mind. The coyote dutifully helped him remove the suit, and he and Liam entered the other stall.
The dress, once donned, hung loosely around Hemi’s frame. Somehow, his exposed shoulder felt almost salacious, compared to not wearing any shirt at all, but the feeling was a good one. The fabric was smooth and breathable, so it was not unbearable on his fur. Most importantly, the inner structure of the dress emphasized his physique without being explicit-- it was just a little more sensual than normal. He turned around and around in the mirror, while Liam watched on from the side.
“So… what do you think?”
Hemi looked down at himself, then back up at the mirror. “I think I actually like it--! What do you think?”
“I think it’s gorgeous. It fits you really well! The moon might make it hard to use at other events, but that’s the only downside.”
“I’m alright with that. I’m sure if I end up wearing it often I can find some illusion to cast over the moon -- it’s basically a big white disk, right? Perfect backdrop for an insignia.”
“Right! Well-- do you want to try any of the other dresses? Since we’re on this side of the aisle…?”
“...Um. No, no I think-- I like this one. Aha--” Hemi put a hand against the back of his head and gave a soft, genuine smile. Liam quickly moved to find the cashier -- who ended up being some kind of dog with very curly white fur.
“My friend would like to buy that dress, please!”
The cashier nodded. “And why not! Oh, but the moon is out of season, isn’t it?”
“It’s fine, it’s for a different event. Actually, the moon was what drew us over here in the first place.”
“Oho!” The cashier dropped her voice. ”And, your friend is happy in… that kind of clothing? We have a suit with the same design in the back--”
Hemi approached. His large ears made it trivial to overhear the conversation from afar. He’d removed the dress and put it onto its hanger, but was still carrying it. He laid the fabric onto the purchase area. “Yes, I’d like to buy the dress. What’s your price?”
The cashier tapped her claw onto a rune engraved in her desk, and a circle of symbols appeared briefly in the air between her and the lynx. “You are a magician, yes? I will ask for a simple service -- production of some lumen oil for my silkworms to feed on. A cup should suffice as payment.”
“Lumen oil… very well. Do you have a cloche?”
The cashier directed Hemi to her alchemy room, and left him to provide his payment while she packaged the dress gently into a clear garment bag. A few minutes later, Hemi emerged with a small container of glowing golden liquid, formed from pure arcane energy. He wiped the sweat from his head -- he’d have to do a more complete grooming in a moment.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” He set the vial onto the payment section. The cashier tapped a rune, and the sign for equivalence appeared in the air. “Then the outfit is yours. I do hope you enjoy wearing it…!” The cashier announced.
Liam took the dress into his hands. “Thank you!” Hemi nodded in thanks as well, and the two left into the plaza. As midday drew closer, the crows had settled into lines near the food vendors, and it was clearly time to take their leave. Hemi knew the way home by heart, so it was a quick matter to tear open the air again and lead the duo back to their place in another reality.
“You did good today, Hemi.” Liam literally patted the lynx on the back as he groomed.
“It’s strange… I never imagined I’d choose an outfit like that, but-- it really did look alright on me?”
“My friend, I could not have envisioned a dress that would fit you and the occasion better. I know I’m biased, but it’s really nice that you’re taking these kinds of risks now. It was a nice day! When we both get a while off of work, we should go out again -- and not just because I got to watch you try on suits for over an hour this time.”
“Hmph--! I’ll bet that was a real treat…”
“Oh, it was~” Liam said in a tone that made it truly impossible to discern if he was being sincere or just trying to get a rise out of him. Hemi just chuckled and looked back over at the garment bag, now hanging in his wardrobe.
“You should come with me. To the ball.”
“Um-- I’m not a wizard, though?”
“Any good ball allows plus ones. Besides, I know you’ve got some ridiculous giant gown or other in your storage somewhere.”
“I… may, but, I don’t think I’d look-- hey, you don’t get to turn the situation around on me like that!”
Hemi’s chuckle turned into a full laugh. “Revenge really is sweet~ But, seriously, you should come.”
“I’ll think about it. Home’s been pretty busy lately. Tsunamis, droughts-- the people need a nature prophet more than ever. But-- if I’m not actively mitigating some huge catastrophe-- I’ll put on a ‘ridiculous, giant gown’ and come with you to the ball. It’s the least I could do, after today.”
“Thank you.”
“Of-- course.”
The matter decided, each cat went on to enjoy the rest of the afternoon in their own ways.
#read more for story#creative writing#wizardblr#queer wizard council#furry#wizardposting#hyperlynx rp#recommend to read on my blog view and not in the tumblr column format if you're on pc#anthro lynx#anthro clouded leopard#blue moon ball#bmb outfit#wizardblr blue moon ball#Blue Moon Ball Writing#The Blue Moon Ball#may take a few minutes to read#oc writing
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Julia’s Sunset
#ems art box#ems art#queer artist#my artwork#original art#artists on tumblr#traditional art#clouds#art#art blog#original content
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Last night I had a small dream where I was getting the mail & was warned that a huge storm was coming, so I looked up & saw the most beautiful sky I've ever seen. My skills got me kinda close to showing it? But the clouds didn't look rainy just blotchy. But maybe the pink were more clouds just really high?? I'm not a meteorologist. What I do know is there was a weird aroura-like rainbow movement up there. Pastel against the clouds.
As I was on my way inside, I took my phone to take pictures. As I did, the sky shifted into a darkness like the second image. Lightning arcing between clouds but never striking down. As soon as I went inside, I woke up.
If I had a nickel for every ominous pink meteorological occurrence I've encountered in my dreams, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
#I'm damn lucky I love drawing clouds#dream journal#dream doodle#weird dreams#corvidoodle art#small artist#art blog#queer artist#digital artist#artists on tumblr#gay artist#trans artist#nb artist#error autosaving post#gay artists#artist on tumblr#dream shit
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[PT: chaluerment
Definition chaluerment: an aromagender connected / related to the the smells of home cooking and / or baking. This gender feels warm and fuzzy and filled with love. It can be static or fluid as the scent of cooking/baking adventures change throughout the process.
Etymology combined from the French words “chaluer” meaning heat and “aliment” meaning food /end PT]
@radiomogai @the-mogai-archives
-.+ chaluerment
Definition
+. chaluerment: an aromagender connected/related to the the smells of home cooking and/or baking. This gender feels warm and fuzzy and filled with love. It can be static or fluid as the scent of cooking/baking adventures change throughout the process.
Etymology
+. combined from the French words “chaluer” meaning heat and “aliment” meaning food
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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)
When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]
These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.
More info under cut:
Edit: Important disclaimer:
These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍
Tags:
I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.
Height chart:
I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:
Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)
Notes about each agent...
Cameron:
- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices. - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too. - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.
Cloud:
- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling. - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace. - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together! - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.
Furze:
- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.
Isadore
- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao
Jackie
- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...
- Item #: SCP 7453
- Object Class: Euclid
- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.
Ramses
- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.
In-Game Quotes
The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.
In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.
Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!
#depot agents#depot agents master post#my art#submas#submas adjacent ahaha#will probably edit as time goes on but who knows really#if you spot any typos no you dont kiss kiss#cameron#cloud#furze#isadore#jackie#ramses
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Chapter Three: Queer Panic and Smutty Books
***BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER THERE IS GOING TO BE SEX,BDSM,AND OTHER GENERAL NSFW THINGS IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR A BLANK BLOG OR A BLOG WITH NO AGE PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT,IF I SEE IT, YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED! THANKS<3***
Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Steve being sad, Robin being awkward, Eddie being sexy as hell, kissing, cum eating, blow jobs, oral female receiving, major dirty talk, Dom! Eddie, masterbation, voyerism (if i've missed any lemme know), Eddie and Steve are in their early to mid 40s, reader is in her mid 20s
Summary: Eddie takes you out on a proper date, and you have some words with Steve
Authors Note: YAYYYY THE SMUT HAS COMMENCEDDDD! i'm sorry this took so long to upload, I genuinely was having major writers block writing the smut for some reason, plus I just wanted it to be perfect for you guys! Anyways ENJOY :D 8k words
**Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Four Chapter Five**
(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)
You could get lost in this man’s lips forever, constantly intertwined. He kissed you like a man starved, like his life depended on every kiss. He tasted like whiskey, you didn’t even like whiskey that much, but you couldn’t care less. You want him, you want him in such a primal way that you huff when he finally breaks off the kiss and touches his forehead to yours.
“Slow down there tiger” he breathes as his chest rises harshly up and down trying to catch his breath. You huff in protest, trying and failing to pull him back into a kiss with your arms still around his neck. But Eddie is too strong, he pulls your arms from around his neck and holds your wrists in one of his hands and holds your chin with the other.
“If we’re gonna do this I wanna do it right, kay?”, he says, nuzzling his nose against yours. You look at him confused, unsure of what he means by that, head still clouded with lust and want.
“Do it right?”, you question him. He smirks at you like you’re oblivious and missing something obvious. He runs his thumb over your lips while he explains.
“Well..If we’re going to do this...us.. together. I want to take you out on a proper date, you can pick where we go. But I want to show how you deserve to be treated. That alright with you?” he proclaims.
You bite your lip to hide the smile that was threatening to spill out and nod your head in excitement. This was really happening, with him. With Eddie fucking Munson.
“Good girl”, he coos, looking at your lips again like a lion hunting its prey. And you almost give in, and let him kiss you, touch you, fuck you. But Eddie was right, you wanted to see what it felt like to be treated like a woman, like someone desirable.
So, instead you groan and put your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. He smelled like cigarettes and leather, you breathed in deeper like a woman starved.
“You’re making it really fucking hard here mister”, you groan into his chest. His laugh vibrating his chest making you look up to see the smile on his face, eliciting a smile on your face too.
There he is.. there’s my Eddie... MY Eddie
“I didn’t know being a gentleman was considered a crime nowadays,” he taunted, his eyes twinkling under the light of the kitchen. You roll your eyes.
Oh yeah, he’s still Eddie
“No not that Eds... what you said AFTER that” you said your voice faltering at the end, your cheeks turned a light shade of pink, unable to utter the actual words “Good girl” out loud.
Eddie raises his eyebrows, clearly amused by your sudden shyness after basically eating his face off. “Oooohhh you mean when I called you a good girl?” he asks knowingly.
You look down at Eddies feet, unable to look him in the eyes, your cheeks surely bright red by this point. Eddie’s hand that’s still resting on your chin, forces you to look at him again.
“So easy to fluster, this is gonna be fuunn,” he taunts lowly, giving you a quick kiss on your lips. You whine against his lips indignantly.
The two of you spend the rest of the night entwined on the couch, alternating between kissing each other or how the two of you usually were; just laughing and talking about life.
You felt so free, like part of you that you had left in a cage long ago was starting to flap its wings. At some point the talking and kissing ceased and the both of you fell asleep entangled together on the couch. As you were falling asleep, you genuinely thought that you had never been this comfortable in your life.
You woke up in the middle of the night with a gasp, waking Eddie up too, making him fall off the bed with a thud.
“Gawd princess you gotta warn a fella, I’m not invincible like the young bucks you’ve been with before” he says sleepily, rubbing an ache out of the small of his back.
You giggle at him and look at the time on the clock, 5:04 am, you sigh in relief, still time to sneak back into Violet’s room and get some sleep before she wakes up for work.
“I can’t believe we fell asleep on the couch” you whisper, trying not to make too much noise as you get off the couch. You were young, but no one’s back feels good after sleeping on the couch.
“I was just so comfy, with you laying on me.” Eddie admits.
“Me too,” You reply sheepishly, now fully awake you remember the events that transpired not a few hours ago.
You help Eddie up off the floor, he immediately wraps his arms around you. You hum into his touch, appreciating how natural this already feels to you. He kisses the top of your head and then lifts your head up with both of his hands and kisses your lips firmly.
This time he moans into the kiss, hearing him sets your skin on fire. You squirm out of his arms to look at his face to make sure it was real, that this is really happening.
He looks back at you scanning your face for any doubt but finds none and smiles idly at you.
“I should probably go back to Violet’s room,” you voice.
He does a dramatic frown and pouting noise, before kissing you one last time.
“Just need one more for the road,” he teases, eventually releasing you.
The two of you walk up the stairs together, holding hands the entire way, parting at the top of the stairs to go your separate ways. You feel giddy, never having felt this way before.
You get one last peak at him before he goes into the master bedroom at the other end of the hallway. You touch the doorknob to Violet’s room and turn it slowly. Trying to make as little noise possible in hopes of not waking her up. You slide under the covers soundlessly. Staring up at your best friend’s ceiling.
What the fuck am I doing?
Violet turns over in her sleep and rests her arm over your chest, completely unaware of what transpired between you and her dad. You take a deep breath in, willing yourself to calm down so you can sleep.
Deciding that future you, would think more about this tomorrow, right now you just wanted to bask in the fact that Eddie Munson kissed you.. and now he wants to take you out on a date.
You wake up to the sound of Violets work alarm, you hear groaning next to you as Violet wakes up to turn the alarm off. She sits up and rubs the sleep out of her eyes.
“Good Morning babe,” she says tiredly.
You smile, she looks so much like her dad, her deep brown eyes, her infectious smile, even how her eyes look when she’s just woken up. Little things you never noticed before because you tried so hard not to think about her Eddie. But now you can’t not see it, not after last night.
“Morning,” you mutter, still waking up yourself.
You sit up in bed, you’re exhausted, between the emotional rollercoaster of a day you had yesterday and staying up late with Eddie, it feels like you’ve gotten almost no sleep.
“What’s that?” Violet asks, pointing at you.
“What’s what Vi?” you look at her curiously.
“Is-is that a hickey on your neck?” she asks a bit louder.
You cover your neck faster than a flash of lighting, you were so caught up in the moment with Eddie yesterday you weren’t even thinking about whether or not him kissing and nibbling on your neck would leave marks.
Violet moves your hand away to get a better look at your hickey, you try to fight her off, but she pins your hands with her legs, stuck in her grasp. Your decisions from last night suddenly becoming very very real and very scary. You wanted to tell Violet eventually about you and Eddie. But not right now, not before you’ve even had your first date.
“Damn... He kissed you like that and still rejected you. What a fucking prick, I was so caught up in helping you yesterday I didn’t see this last night” she says still admiring your hickey.
Relief floods your system, Violet assumes you got the hickey from Steve. Why wouldn’t she? She has no reason not to trust you, until now.
“Yeah, that’s why I was so embarrassed” you lied, you fucking hated lying to her, but you’d tell her when you were ready; And the timing just wasn’t right.
“Give me his address so I can kick his ass, better yet give me the name of the Dean so I can get him fired for using you like that,” she retorts.
“No Vi it’s really okay, I’m only going to be in his class for a couple more months and then I won’t have to see him ever again,” you reply.
Violet nods seemingly satisfied with your answer and got off you. You watch her as she gets out of bed and starts to get ready for work, quickly concealing the hickey Eddie gave to you the night before. You really do have the best friend in the entire world.
Even with everything that happened with you and Eddie, your interaction with Steve still really stung. Remembering what happened, felt like a pit was sitting in your stomach. Thinking back on it you don’t blame him for how he reacted, he’s your professor, he could lose his job if the wrong person found out about the two of you.
You do regret how you reacted to him though, you’re not usually one that is quick to anger, but you just felt so rejected by him. Maybe you would apologize to him after class, you hoped he would accept your apology.
Violet lets you borrow some of her clothes and the two of you get ready for the day in her room. You do some light make up, while Violet fixes her hair.
“Fuck where is it?” You see Violet searching around in one of her drawers looking for something.
“Do you mind running to the bathroom for me and seeing if my hairspray is in there?” she asks.
You nod and head out into the hallway, looking at the stairs that you walked up last night hand in hand with Eddie. You can’t help but smile lightly at the memory.
You walk down the hall to the bathroom and go to open the door. But as you reach for the handle it swings open. Coming face to face with a shirtless Eddie, wearing only a towel around his waist.
You lips go into an “O” shape at the sight of him, your panties practically dropping to the basement floor. He smiles widely at you, looking at Violets door and then scooping you up into a kiss. You soften into his grip, glad that he hadn’t changed his mind about the two of you since sleeping.
“Mornin’ m’lady” he smiles into your hair.
“Morning Eds” you say as you kiss him on the cheek because that’s as far as you can reach on your tippy toes. It takes every atom in your body to not jump him right there in broad daylight with Violet in the other room. He beams at the nickname, giving you another swift kiss.
“Did you find it?!” Violet yells from the other room.
Both of your eyes go wide, and Eddies hands drop to his sides at the sound of his daughter. He winks at you before leaving to go to his room. Your head now dizzy after kissing Eddie, you scramble through the bathroom drawers to find what Violet needed, and running back to her room before she went looking for you.
The rest of the morning continuing with business as usual, the three of you eat breakfast together, courtesy of Eddie. He made French toast and bacon, and he put whip cream smiley faces on all the French toast stacks.
Violet announces that she’s spending the following weekend at Quinns, because they were going to have a Lord of The Rings marathon, something they both take very seriously. Violet leaves soon after to go to work, while you and Eddie both take your time finishing your food.
“So next weekend then?” Eddie questions, with a mischievous smile.
You look up at him from your plate, “Can’t wait,” you confess.
He looks down at his food again, pushing his food around his plate with his fork like a child. His eyebrows are knit together like he’s thinking really hard.
“You alright over there old man?” you joke, nudging him with your foot under the table.
He looks up at you like you broke his concentration, “Yeah, I’m good, I just don’t want you to think that I’m trying to keep you a secret or anything, ya know? I know Violet is grown and what I do with my life isn’t really her business anymore, but I just don’t think I’m ready to tell her yet if that’s okay with you?” he explains.
You look at him kindly and nod, feeling the same way. You hoped that when the both of you did eventually tell Violet that she would at least want the both of you to be happy, even if it took her awhile to get used to it.
You finish breakfast shortly after, needing to stop at your apartment before school to grab some books. You grab all your stuff from Violet’s room, and you’re about to put your stuff in the car before he calls out to you.
“Not so fast princess” turning you around and pinning you against the inside of the front door. Cradling your face in his hands, a sensation you were now very familiar with, dipping down and kissing you fiercely.
“I could get used to this” he whispers into your neck, giving a swift peck before grabbing your bookbag and walking you out to your car. You were so shocked you didn’t know what to say, a guy had never carried anything for you before, you could get used to this too.
“Text me later k?” he asks, you had his number in your phone because technically the two of you work together, but up until this point you had been too chicken to ever text for anything other than necessary for work, and maybe a few memes you thought he’d get a kick out of.
You nod and give him one final kiss, addicted to his lips at this point, and then drive off down the road towards your apartment.
Driving away from the safety of Eddie’s house was making the anxiety in your stomach boil up into your throat. You had to see Steve today and you had to apologize. As much as you didn’t want to go to class and face him, you knew it was the right thing to do. If you wanted to keep your job and work civilly alongside him then you had to.
Before you could even think about Steve, you had a huge paper due on Queer Cinema in your Gender Studies class. Gender studies really was one of your favorite classes that was sure to put you in a good mood before you had to face the music.
Professor Buckley spent a majority of the class showing clips from iconic queer films and discussing the importance of representation in media. She was in the middle of taking about a scene she had just played and why its relevant, when a male student raises his hand.
“Plus, he’s really hot.” he said.
The entire class erupts into laughter, and one of the girls you sit behind in your sociology class chimed in.
“Not hotter than Professor Harrington though!” she giggled, a bunch of other girls and guys from the class agree along with her.
Robin rolling her eyes, “This class is supposed to give me hope for humanity, not swooning over some GUY, and dingus isn’t as hot as you all think. Plus, he’s really into TAs so you’re all out of luck” she says nonchalantly, not knowing that your Steve’s TA.
The room went silent, the only sound you’re able to hear is your heart begging to explode from your chest. The few people that you have in your sociology class look at you in horror, Robin covering her hand with her mouth realizing what she had done.
Your feet move without you thinking, standing up and grabbing your things and fleeing the room as fast as they could take you. You were utterly embarrassed with tears threatening to spill from your eyes for a third time in less than 24 hours. You don’t even know where you’re going until you do, and you’re standing outside of Steve’s classroom. You know he likes to get there early to get everything ready for your class.
You open the door and shut it, Steve jumps at the noise. Lips formed in a tight smile once he realizes that it’s you.
“So do you do this with every one of your TAs then?” you say loudly, hoping it would stop him from hearing the quiver in your voice.
He walks carefully over to you, like you’re a wounded animal ready to pounce. You can’t bare to look at his face, so you look at the floor, blinking vigorously willing the tears back into your eyes.
“What are you talking about?” he says carefully.
“I was just made a fool of in Robins class, because one of the girls thinks you’re hot and she said that you only have a thing for TAs, was all this just a fucking game to you Steve? To get me to like you and then make me feel like an idiot?” You spat at him, looking him in the eyes now so he can see the anger behind them.
Steve sighs loudly and nervously runs his fingers through his hair, his eyes look tired, like he didn’t sleep a wink the night before. “No- I, No that’s not even remotely true, Y/N you have to believe me, nothing like this has ever happened before. This is all uncharted territory for me,” he says tiredly.
“How do you expect me to believe you? After rejecting me the way you did last night, after weeks of flirting with me. You were just toying with me all along, weren’t you? I thought you were better than that!” tears now spilling over your cheeks, conceding in your fight to keep them in.
“Y/N I- Fuck I’m so sorry this is all so fucked up. I didn’t expect anything of this to happen, I shouldn’t have kissed you, I should have waited until you weren’t my student anymore, so it was less complicated. But you have to believe me when I say that my feelings for you are genuine, regardless of how messed up it is. None of this should’ve happened. Please just let me explain and it’ll all make sense,” he begs.
You take a deep breath in and wipe the tears from your eyes, “You are right about one thing Steve, this never should have happened” you seethe.
Steves eyes sadden, and he nods in defeat, knowing he’s lost the battle and you along with it.
“Go find yourself another TA to fuck with Steve because I’m done.” you growl.
You turn your heel and walk out of the room, working alongside Steve was no longer an option. If you didn’t need the credit to graduate you would’ve marched into the student center and drop his class right then and there. But your education was more important than some guy.
The rest of the day happens in a blur, unable to concentrate on any of your classes that day. Your mind constantly just floating aimlessly in the air, if someone coughed to hard in your direction you’d probably float away. Going through the motions of the day, kept you safe, steering clear of all thoughts about Steve was the best course of action for the moment.
You did feel conflicted, your feelings continuing to confuse you. Why were you so upset about this? Your thing with Eddie is so good, the best you ever had, so why are you so upset? It’s all so confusing, you’ve never liked one person as much as you like Eddie, and reluctantly Steve too. Yet it felt so right, like it was the most normal thing in the world, for the short while before the whole thing went to shit.
As much as you are furious with Steve, it also made things easier and less confusing. Now you could just focus on Eddie, and that you didn’t mind at all. You could spend every day of forever with him and it still would never be enough. That’s not to say that thoughts of Steve still didn’t pop up in your mind and dreams, he still was your teacher so you still saw him almost every day. The first few days after the initial shock of what Robin had said were awkward, both in class with Steve and Robin.
Robin was relentless with her apologies, apologizing for it every chance she got.
“I’m so sorry, sometimes I just do this thing where I start talking, and then I don’t know what I’m saying until I say it. It’s like I blackout in the middle of taking and then by the time I realize, the damage has already been done and I’ve put my whole foot in my mouth. I’m so sorry,” she rambles anxiously.
“Its fine really, water under the bridge,” you dismiss her kindly.
You really didn’t blame Robin, it’s not like she knew what was going on between you and Steve, she was just trying to make a joke, a bad joke but a joke, nonetheless.
Steve, on the other hand, went completely silent. His classes were filled with less energy than before. He seemed tired, like he stopped sleeping through the night. His skin seemed less shiny, his eyes no longer bright, and his hair always seemed slightly out of place from anxiously running his fingers through it. Steve was a mess.
You almost felt bad, yes he hurt you, but there was a part inside of you that still cared deeply for the man that you once had a connection with. He didn’t try to talk to you anymore or explain himself after the fight that the two of you had. Just radio silence.
You tried your best not to think about it too hard, plus you had an amazing distraction. It had been about a week since you and Eddie first made plans to go out on a date, with that date now fast approaching only a few days from now. And still stumped as to where your first date should be, maybe you were over thinking it, but you wanted it to be perfect. Your head was swirling with so many different ideas. You wanted to do something unique, that would show him parts of you. You weren’t always the best with your words, but if you could show him parts of yourself maybe he’d understand. You were shaken from your thoughts when your phone buzzed a few times in a row.
“hey”
“heyyy”
“I’m bored and you’re cute call me when you’re free x”
You smile widely at your phone; Eddie always knew how to make every day better. You pick up your phone and dial his number.
“Hi handsome,” you beam into your phone.
“Hey baby, how was your day?” you can hear the smile in his voice
“Eh fine, I’d rather be with you,” you confess.
You really wish you could be with Eddie, but instead you were surrounded by your textbooks swamped with the homework you had this week.
“Then come over here, Violets out, and I have the house to myself,” he asks.
“Can’t, homework,” you sigh.
“You can do your homework here, I won’t distract you. Pinky Promise! Only several thousand kisses that’s it!” he begs. You groan into the receiver, and Eddie retorts with a chuckle knowing that he’s wearing you down.
As convincing as Eddies offer was, and it was really convincing. You wanted to have a good time on your date, you needed to get all this work done to give Eddie your full attention, and not worry about school.
“I don’t trust you mister,” you joke.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t either, but you should still come over anyways,” he retorts.
You laugh at his goofy nature, and that alone almost makes you say yes.
“How bout this princess, I’ll come over there. I’ll sit and read a book or something, and be a good boy while you do your work,” he suggests.
You ponder this over in your head for a minute but who are you kidding, how could you possibly say no to him? Plus, you really only have to revise two papers, shouldn’t take too long.
“Alright alright you win, come on over stinky,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Be over soon pretty girl,” he says slyly.
How could you ever say no to Eddie fucking Munson.
You appreciate that Eddie didn’t make it too hard for you to concentrate when he finally showed up at your apartment. He did as he said he would, sitting next to you on your bed, one had rubbing circles on your back and the other holding a book that he was trying to finish.
His touch soothing you, as you rub stress out of your own temples. When you could, sneaking glances at the very beautiful man sitting right next to you. He was dressed down today, hair in a low bun, in a pair of sweatpants and an old Iron Maiden T shirt. He could wear a brown paper bag and he’d still be one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen. It made the time between today and the date that much more excruciating, Eddie had been very adamant that there would be no funny business prior to the date, which is honestly a surprising amount of self-control for him. It showed he meant business, which you respected. But it was also driving you to the brink of insanity, cursing into the abyss that the universe would give you the prettiest man in the world and not be able to jump his bones. It was a cruel world indeed.
Your insatiable urges aside you could get used to this. Him being here, even if you weren’t talking, his presence soothed and ache inside of you. You also loved that Eddie loves books almost as much as you did, you wouldn’t think by just looking at him. But he had his nose in a book quite often, whether that’s a new DnD manual, researching for a new campaign, or just reading random sci-fi books.
And that’s when it hits you, you know where the two of you are going to go for your date. You look up from your computer screen and look at Eddie. His brows lightly scrunched together, probably reading a thrilling part in his book. He looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“Take a picture it’ll last longer gorgeous. I’m trying to be good here and you’re distracting me,” he taunts, as he flips a page in his book very dramatically.
You roll your eyes at him, if he wasn’t so cute, he’d be the biggest pain in your ass.
“Alright then I guess you just won’t get to know where we go on our date then, fine by me!” you hint.
Then you’re jumped by a mass of dark brown curls and you’re tackled onto the bed.
“Tell me tell me tell me!!!!” he says in between kisses to your cheeks and neck. Giggling uncontrollably, you concede.
“Fine fine, you win! Me and you. Saturday. Coffee shop and bookstore. 12 pm don’t be late Munson.” You reveal with a light kiss to Eddies bottom lip.
Expecting Eddie to continue his shenanigans, his eyes soften a little and he dips down to give you a firm kiss on your lips.
“You’re perfect, ya know that?” he says sincerely.
You roll your eyes at him. He holds your chin in place, the way that makes your breath hitch.
“Nuh uh, don’t be mean to my girl,” he coos.
You blush and kiss him back with the same ferocity, your homework can wait. You spend the rest of the night snuggled up against Eddie while he read his book to you in between the thousands of kisses he promised.
The day the date actually came around you were a fucking mess, you woke up super early, trying to figure out the right outfit to wear. Not that you thought it would matter to Eddie all that much, but it mattered to you. You were something of a perfectionist and you wanted this date to go well.
You decide on a comfy green sweater, a pair of leggings, and black platform combat boots, and your winter jacket. It was getting colder outside, and you were not used to the Indiana winters, you swear you had never seen so much snow in your life.
You were just doing your finishing touches in the mirror when you heard a knock on the door. You can’t contain the smile that spreads across your face as you basically leap to the door in excitement. You swing the door open, and you are face to face with a excited smile that matched yours.
“Hi princess,” he greets you, giving you a light kiss on your lips.
“Hey Eddie,” you smile up at him, even in your platform boots, this man was so much taller than you. It made your heart flutter and your body tingle.
“Ready to go?” he says seductively leaving a more passionate kiss onto your lips, making your legs buckle slightly. The kiss makes you want to abandon the date all together and take him right here on your couch. The week since your first kiss had been grueling, and you wanted more than kisses.
“Yeah, let’s go,” you beam up at him leaving a kiss on his jaw. He moans and you know he’s thinking the same thing as you.
In his car the energy is electrified and nervous, Eddies knee bouncing wildly in the driver’s seat while you fiddle with your hands. Hanging out at his house or your apartment was one thing but going out in public together. On a date, completely different. You just try to remind yourself that it’s still Eddie, the same goof that he was the day before and the day before that.
You go to the local coffee shop in town, he grabs a black coffee which you make fun of him for, making the tension between the two of you, ease. And you get a chai tea, which Eddie makes fun of you for.
“You know that chai is tea in Hindi right? So, you basically just ordered “tea tea”? he snickers.
“Yeah well at least I didn’t order a steaming hot cup of bitter water old man,” you retort as you grab your drinks from the barista.
You hand him his coffee and he pulls you in to leave a kiss on your forehead. The people in front of you look at you inquisitively, and that’s when you realize that the two of you probably look a little odd. A 45ish year-old man and a 25 year-old woman together. Age was never a thing that either of you ever thought too much about in all honesty. Besides the “old man” jabs that you gave him occasionally. Regardless of the age difference between the two of you, you had so much in common that it never seemed that noticeable. You give the couple in front of you a glare and head out the door with Eddie hand in hand.
Any bookstore is the best place on earth, any book you could ever dream of stocked on the shelves, endless possibilities. Plus, the new book smell, is just addicting. Eddie watched in amusement as you picked up every other book reading the backs of them, completely immersed in your own little world. Following along behind you holding your hand or wrapping his arm around your waist, reading the backs of books that look interesting to him. That is until you get to the DnD section, and he becomes the biggest nerd you ever met and it makes you swoon even harder if possible.
After almost looking at every section in the store, the two of you stand in front of the romance section. You had decided before the date that you were going to steer clear from this section to avoid any teasing from Eddie because you basically read porn. Not just porn, porn that would make a grown man clutch his pearls.
But the spicy section had been updated since you had been there last, and you remembered that one of your favorite authors had dropped a new book. You gasp lightly and Eddie looks at you inquisitively.
You walk briskly over to the section of steamy books, searching for the book you were looking for.
“I didn’t really peg you as a girl who likes romance books, I’m intrigued,” he taunts lightly.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Munson” you say, still looking for the right book. Instead, you find another smutty book that you’ve been meaning to read, one about an older guy owning a BDSM club that a bunch of your online friends were gushing about. You pull that off the shelf and accept the fact that you’re going to have to ask an employee for help to find the book you were looking for.
“Do you mind holding this for me for a sec? I just need to ask an employee for help,” you ask.
Eddie’s eyebrow is upturned in curiosity but takes the book from your hands as you go off to look for an employee. The book was in the “New Releases” section and that’s why you couldn’t find it.
When you finally make your way back to Eddie you look at him in horror, he has the book you asked him to hold for you, open to the middle of the book, smirking like a devil in disguise. He looks up at you before you can defend yourself.
“Princess, you like this stuff? Seems a little intense for a pretty little thing like you,” he says tauntingly under his breath so none of the other patrons can hear you.
You let out an anxious squeal and try to grab the book from Eddies hands, but he’s too quick. He dangles the book easily over your head still reading from the pages.
Your heart is beating so fast threatening to drop into your stomach. What if he thought you were weird and didn’t want to be with you anymore? What if you fucked all of this up before you even started?
“Give it back Eddie I mean it,” you whine, still trying to reach the book in his hand.
“Then tell me you like this kind of stuff, and ill give you the book back right now,” he says still holding the book out of your reach. He leans in really close, his eyes dark with lust. Caging you in against a bookshelf and puts his lips up to your ear.
“Tell me, you get off on reading this stuff, tell me you read this late at night right before bed with your hand down your pants and the book is all yours,” he whispers before backing away to a normal distance, leaving the rest of the customers none the wiser.
You shiver when his breath touches your ear, you have to bite your lip as to not whine out in the middle of the bookstore. If you were needy before the date, nothing compared to how you felt right now. You were an omega about to go into heat, and the only thing that was going to put out the fire brewing in you was Eddie. Your legs threatening to give out below you, you take a deep breath to steady yourself before responding. Eddie patiently awaiting your response, taunting you with his one hand cupped behind his ear.
“I do,” you say meekly.
He gets closer to you, flaunting his size against your frame.
“You do what pretty girl, come on use your words” he coos, caressing you cheek with his thumb.
This time you let a whimper escape and a smile the size of Texas spread across Eddies face. You clear your throat and wet your lips.
“I touch myself when I read them,” you whisper loud enough for only Eddie to hear.
“Good girl baby,” he praises you, rewarding you with a kiss on your cheek.
He grabs the other book from your hands, leading the two of you to the checkout line. You felt like you were floating, you had never been this turned on in your life and Eddie barely touched you.
Then there was the dilemma, that Eddie refused to let you pay for your own books despite your countless protests. You pouted lightly next to him while he paid for your two book and one for himself.
“Don’t worry babycakes, I’ll pay for your porn” he teased with a wink as the two of you walked out of the store. He helped you into his truck, grabbing your waist tightly, making you gasp.
The car ride back to Eddie’s house was intense, both of you feeling the consequences of the little stunt Eddie pulled in the bookstore. Your chest heaving up and down heavily, Eddie holding on to your thigh with one of his hands.
“Do you trust me?” Eddie asks seriously, once the two of you get inside, he helps you shrug off your winter jacket hanging it up for you.
You nod quickly with no hesitation, only admiration in your eyes. You needed this man more than you needed air; did he really expect you to say no? And with final confirmation Eddie takes your hand and leads you up to his bedroom. Your eyes fixating slightly on Violet’s room before forcing her out of your head and focusing on the man in front of you.
He ushers you in, immediately tackling you into a heated kiss, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of his bed until you feel it with the backs of your knees. You inch yourself farther into the middle of his bed pulling him closer, looking up at him through your eyelashes, Eddies eyes are dark looking at you like he’s the hunter and you are his prey. Eddie follows suit incasing your body with his, enveloping your lips again.
But with more urgency, like the first time you kissed in the kitchen. You open yourself up guiding his body between your legs. He thanks you by grinding his bulge against your sweet spot making you gasp. Eddie takes that as an open invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your lips clash together feverously, a mix of lips, tongue, and teeth. You pull back taking his bottom lip in between your teeth. Biting hard enough to elicit a hiss from his mouth.
“Fuckkk,” he groans loudly.
Changing pace, he dips down and starts sucking on your pulse point, sending shivers down your body. Your hips moving on their own rolling into his, the friction making you both moan. You could feel him leaving little bruises all over your neck, your mind too empty to care, having only one thing on your mind now. Him.
You become very aware that Eddie was wearing entirely too much clothing, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, he takes the hint and lifts up to exposed to pale ink decorated skin under his T-shirt. You were in awe of him, grabbing and kissing anywhere and everywhere, wanting to taste every single part of him. His arms were almost completely covered in ink, and most of his chest was covered too. You made a mental note to spend an entire day kissing every single tattoo on his body, but that day was not today.
Eddie wanting the same from you, he starts to pull up the bottom of your shirt, looking into your eyes for the okay. Seeing no protest, he takes it the rest of the way off. If his eyes could bulge out of his head, they probably would have with how wide his eyes got.
“Jesus Christ” he groans as he re-attaches his lips to yours, only to pull apart slowly making his way down your chest, leaving bruising kisses along your collar bone and the swell of your breasts that were peaking out from your bra. Getting impatient he peels the cups of your bra down to expose your nipples to him and incasing one in his mouth. Swirling the bud with his tongue, groaning into your chest. Each pinch and lick sending shock waves through your body.
Eddie stops what he’s doing and looks up at you, “Show me baby,” Eddie says while leaving little kisses down your stomach. You look at him slightly confused, unsure what he means. A small smirk falls on his lips as he uses his hands to reach up and take your left breast in his hand. Your nipple brushing up against his fingers. Enticing a hissing noise from you.
“Show me how you touch yourself when you’re reading your books, show me how you like it.” he says leaving more kisses on your breasts as his fingers continue to play with your nipple.
Getting impatient, Eddie grabs the hem of your leggings and panties, pulling them up and off your body. Pushing your knees apart exposing your dripping center to him, guiding your hand to your slit.
Then his touch is gone, you look to see his figure rummaging next to the bed in the bag from the bookstore. He pulls out the book he was reading and taunting you with. Flipping open to a page that seemed to peak the older man’s interest, pushing it into your hand.
It was your turn to become speechless, looking down at the words on the page he picked out for you. Your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. His eyes dark but still warm and encouraging, still your Eddie. You bite your lip and nod back at him.
You look back to the words on the page, moving your hand slowly up and down your slit. Gathering the wetness from your center and swirling it around your aching bud. You see Eddie in the corner of your eye, palming himself through his pants, watching intently where your hand and legs meet.
Breathy moans spilling from your mouth while you touch yourself, your mind clouding in pleasure. If you weren’t so turned on, the wet sounds that echoed around the room would have embarrassed you.
“So fuckin naughty, you look so good touching your pretty little cunt like that,” he says breathily, pupils blown.
His words only edging you on, you moan loudly as you sink a finger inside your entrance, making your back lift off the bed in ecstasy, book completely discarded. You feel Eddie remove your hand from your core, you whine in protest. Enveloping you hand in his mouth, lapping at your juices, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“Spit,” he commands, holding his hand out in front of your mouth. You gather the saliva in your mouth and spit it into his hand.
“Good girl” he praises, rubbing your spit onto your slit, making you gasp loudly. His fingers quickly replaced by his wanting tongue, teasing your entrance, and nudging his perfect nose against your clit.
“OH FUCK EDDIE!” you cry out.
Your words encouraging him to buckle down, swirling and flicking his tongue on your clit making you see stars. You buck your hips up to meet his tongue, chasing your release.
“Shit, you taste so good baby, could drown in this fucking pussy,” he babbles, re-attaching his lips to your bundle of nerves.
You can feel yourself getting close already, your entrance pulsing in anticipation. You grab a fist full of his curls in desperation. Eliciting a deep groan from him that vibrates through you.
“S-so good, so fucking good Eds, holy shit” you say with another roll of your hips. Then without warning Eddie sticks one of his fingers inside of you, finding a spot inside that you could never reach yourself.
“Fuck Eddie I-im gonna” you breathe.
“Come on sweet thing, cum for me” he purrs into your core. Keeping his pace with his tongue on your clit, adding another finger inside you. The feeling of fullness finally sending you over the edge.
You throw your head back in a silent scream, the coil inside you finally snapping sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Eddie leaving sloppy kisses on your inner thighs brings you back into your body.
“Still with me princess? You did so good f’me,” he murmurs into your skin.
You look at him hazily, he looked so pretty between your thighs. His strong arms incasing each thigh, his lips and chin glistening with your release. You reach for him, wanting to feel his lips on yours once again. He obliges you, tasting the remnants of your release on his slips, sighing against his mouth contently.
You roll him over so he’s on his back, leaving kisses against his stomach down to his clothed cock, making him buck up into you. You strip him quickly from his pants and boxers, impatient, you want to make him feel as good as he made you.
His cock is bigger than you expected, not too thick but long, a little patch of curly dark brown hair at the base. You situate yourself between his legs and look up at him through your eyes.
Eddie was trying to be patient, but you could see the desperation in his eyes. You start swirling your tongue around the tip, collecting his precum in your mouth. You groan deeply at the slightly salty taste, encasing the rest of your mouth around the tip. You hear Eddie curse under his breath, his hands cup the hair falling around your face so he can see you better.
You take this opportunity to lock eyes with him, gathering all the saliva in your mouth and spitting sloppily onto his cock, working it from the tip to the shaft.
“Jesus, fuck! Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he babbled. His words making you clench around nothing, Eddie was more vocal than any other partner you’d ever been with but you liked knowing that you were making him feel good.
You go back to working your mouth down on his cock, forcing it lower and lower until the hairs at the base of his shaft were tickling your nose and lips. You gag slightly around his cock, throat constricting around the tip, making him thrust farther down your throat.
“Shit, fuck I’m sorry baby, you just look so fucking good with your mouth full of my cock, couldn’t help myself,” he sputters. You hum as you remove his cock from your mouth leaving opened mouth kisses all the way down the shaft and onto his balls. You hear his breath hitch when you reach his balls. You spend time down there licking and sucking.
Taking your time lightly sucking each ball into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them. Truth be told you loved sucking and licking balls and you could tell Eddie did too by his reaction.
“Fuck, Fuck yes, you like that? You like sucking my balls? Good fucking girl, such a good fucking girl, shit” he cries out, tightening the grip he has on your hair. The new hold he had on your hair leaving a delightful sting on your scalp and that made your eyes roll back. You pull of his shaft with a pop , sloppily licking up and down his member.
“Fuck my face Eddie, please, fill my throat” you plead with your mouth still full of his length
“Don’t have to fuckin ask me twice sweetheart,” he says grabbing another fist full of your hair. You give up control and let him lower your head back down on his cock. His pace starts out slow at first seeing what you can handle. You can take most of his cock, and the rest that you can take you use your hand to stroke it, making sure every part of him feels good. He continues to shower you with praises, all of it becoming to much, you start to feel your own wetness start to drip down your thighs.
You can feel his cock twitching in your mouth has his pace picks up, slamming his cock in your mouth with reckless abandon. Making you gag every time his tip hit the back of your throat, Eddie swearing obscenities left and right.
His pace getting sloppy as he comes closer to cumming, and with one final thrust into your mouth he releases his load down your throat. You both moan in unison at the act. Smooshing your face down into the curls at the base for good measure before pushing off to straddle his waist.
Opening up your mouth to show him his cum gathered inside your mouth, Eddies eyes rolling back farther than you thought humanly possible. Looking back at you with hungry eyes, he holds your face with his one hand, cupping your cheeks. And with his other hand dipping two of his fingers into your mouth, fucking his cum farther down your throat.
“Swallow for me pretty girl,” he commands, your body tingling to obey his every thought, his eyes watching you like a hawk.
You swallow the rest of his cum left on your tongue, and stick your tongue out to show him the job done.
“Good girl, such a good girl,” he praises again, kissing you fiercely on the lips. Then you collapse onto the bed next him contently.
He grabs hold of your waist forcing you to cuddle close, he leaves kisses in your hair and your run circles across his chest with your fingers. Your mind completely empty of everything that wasn’t Eddie Munson.
That was until your phone went off, buzzing next to the bed. You ignore it, deciding that whatever it was, could wait. That was until it buzzed again, and again, and again. Finally you climb over Eddie and reach for your phone, seeing a couple missed calls from Violet.
You call her back without even thinking, there’s no way she could know that you were naked in her dads bed, no way.
“Hey Vi, you okay?” you say sleepily, worn out from your previous activities.
“They’re cheating me, they’re fucking cheating on me, I can’t fucking believe it!” Violet wails into the phone.
“Woah woah, slow down and start from the beginning babe what’s going on?” you say, concern in your voice. Eddie now sitting up wanting to know what was happening.
Violet goes onto explain that her and Quinn have each other’s phone passwords, and that she went to go look up something on his phone, and they had changed their phone password and had a text message from an unsaved number on their phone.
“Fuck,” you mutter into the phone.
“I need you to come over, I need you right now, i'm on my way back from Quinn's house now,” she pleads with you.
“I’ll be there as soon I can babe, don’t worry we will figure this out” you reassure her, feeling guilty for lying to her again.
You hang up the phone and look at Eddie, you fill him in on whats going on. Eddie wanting to go over to Quinn's house right now and give them a piece of his mind, but you talk him out of it until you know exactly what’s going on.
“Sorry we gotta cut this short,” you chuckle, leaning back into Eddies exposed chest.
“S’alright, I’d rather know that Vi’s okay. You’re a good friend Y/N, Vi and I are so lucky to have you." You blush at his words, he leans down and leaves kisses along your hair line and neck.
The two of you dress, you cover up your very obvious hickeys from Eddie, and part your separate ways. Just in time for the two of you to share one final kiss in the living room before the door opens.
Tag List! **If you want to be added to the tag list just lemme know, just need to be 18+**
@chaoticmunsons @sweetblinginrose @tlclick73 @paleidiot @frogtape @too-efn-old-to-be-here @peaches-roses-sins @micheledawn1975 @untitled74745 @hellv1ra @cozyquinn
#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steddie x reader#steddie#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader x eddie munson#older! steve harrington#older steve harrington#older eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington x reader#older!eddie munson
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Leather and Lace - Chapter 20: All The Little Things
Summary: Arthur takes note of all the little things you do for him and tries to decide if he’s ready to take your relationship to the next level.
Warning: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW - This one is a bit longer than I planned, sorry!
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*This beautiful images comes from the always stunning @foundynnel
*Beta-read by the wonderfully supportive @readingcoco (Thank you for herding in my thoughts, my friend!)
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*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people.
It’s been a few weeks since you and Arthur proclaimed your affections for each other and you have quickly settled into a comfortable routine. With Arthur being a senior member of the gang, and with you as his woman, you feel that you need to step up and contribute more to the Van Der Linde Gang. And Dutch and Ms. Grimshaw couldn’t be more thrilled.
The gang must always come first - that is what Arthur has instilled in you and it’s what you have come to adopt as your own adage too. You feel that same sense of belonging and responsibility for these people and finally begin to truly understand Arthur’s unrelenting loyalty to them. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and as long as the gang does well, the people within it will prosper.
You are quickly becoming more embedded into this rag-tag group than you had ever thought you would. It’s not just a group of random individuals or a place for you to hide for safety, they are your family now, just as they are Arthur’s. These are the people who comfort you when you need it, and protect you as one of their own. They laugh with you; they yell and stomp angrily with you. You affectionately think of them and pick-up little gifts that will make their day, and you are rewarded with their love and appreciation in return. This is what Arthur is devoutly devoted to, this sense of belonging. For this is much more than a gang of lawbreakers. These people chose each other, which is a bond tighter than most blood relatives.
The sun is just climbing into its zenith in the autumn sky, desperately trying to break its radiant beams through the gray, overcast clouds to shine down upon the earth below. You and Tilly rumble into camp on a wagon, having just come back from town with a load full of supplies. Mr. Pearson greets you as the old wooden vehicle creaks to a halt. He waddles over and peers his chubby face over the side. The cook is thrilled, seeing an extra crate of potatoes, two more tins of lard and a sack of grain more than he expected you to return with.
“I guess battin’ those eyelashes of yours at the store owner goes a lot further than I thought,” the portly man teases you as he grabs some of the items from the back of the wagon.
You beam back at him with a smile of pride as you hike up your skirt into your hand and climb down from the wagon seat. “What is it they say? ‘Catch more flies with honey than vinegar?’”, you hum.
“Well, don’t be surprised if I start sending you out more often, then. We’ll probably get further along with your pretty face than mine.” Pearson’s round figure vibrates slightly with the laughter of his own joke.
“Just let me know what you need, I’ll be happy to help.” Suddenly you halt dead in your tracks, realizing that you’ve just repeated one of Arthur’s sayings. Tilly is right: you and Arthur are already starting to act like an old married couple. The phrase causes you to shake your head before moving back to the wagon to grab more of the items to unpack.
You pick up one of the smaller boxes and turn to head over to the tables where the men lazily sit about, discussing random topics and enjoying a brief moment of peace and quiet. Arthur and Hosea sit, each relaxing with a cigarette in hand, listening to Dutch carry on about something that he's read recently. He’s been obsessed with “An American Eden” by Evelyn Miller lately and takes it upon himself to “preach its teachings”, as it were, to whomever is within the sound of his voice to hear it. The small group of men currently around him are not what you’d call “high-brow” and his philosophy lessons tends to fall on deaf ears sometimes.
“Hello, boys!” you sing as you saunter over, being met with a collection of head-nods and grins of acknowledgement.
As you grab their attention, you proceed to hand-out a few thoughtful extras that you pilfered in town. You toss a package of new guitar strings to Javier who snatches them out of the air with one of his nimble hands.
“Gracias, mi amor!” he beams happily as he examines the small bundle in his hands. “Where did you come across these?”
“Don’t you worry about it. I have my ways,” you smirk with an accompanying wink.
You reach over to hand a new book to Hosea with a smile, and offer a premium cigar to Dutch, who gratefully accepts your gift with appreciative eyes. Placing the empty box on the table, you look over at Arthur. “Oh, and by the way, Arthur, I think I saw that jack-rabbit you’re chasing in town today.”
Arthur’s head perks up right away. “The Petersen bounty?”
“Yeah. He was over by the brothel. By the looks of it, he’ll be holed up there for a while,” you say nonchalantly as you pull an apple out of your skirt pocket and rub its red skin against your sleeve before biting into the crisp, juicy fruit.
“Well shit, why are you just telling me this now?” Arthur huffs impatiently as he quickly gets up and starts moving towards the horses.
“Like I said, he’s in no hurry.” You shrug. “Do I get a finder’s fee for my part?” you call after him with a grin as you watch him pull Buck from the hitching posts.
Arthur just waves you off as he slides his dusty boot into the stirrup and hastily slings up into Buck’s saddle, taking off for town.
—---------------------------------------------------
The flames of the evening’s campfire pop and crackle softly as they roll and crawl over the slightly damp wood. The aroma of heady oak permeates the air and the smoky plumes rise and dance up towards the night sky. You and Arthur sit alone on the ground by the fire, leaning back against a log with a blanket wrapped over your legs. The night is quiet as the stars sparkle overhead. Most people are playing cards at one of the tables, or have drifted off to their tents for the evening.
The fire offers its warmth and golden glow, creating a soft ambiance. Arthur pulls you in for a gentle, absentminded kiss, and you find yourselves wholly content with each other, forgetting that the rest of the world exists as lovers often do. Your lips run languidly, with no urgency or demand as if working of their own accord. You start to gently rake your fingers across Arthur’s chest, slowly flexing to curl around the worn fabric of his faded brown shirt and occasionally reaching up to caress along his neck and chin. The feeling of his skin radiates through your fingertips and down into the palm of your soft hand. Eyes rolling shut, you smile into his mouth in blissful happiness as his arms lovingly and protectively envelop you.
Arthur’s strong hand sits on your hip, lightly grasping at the supple flesh hidden under the fabric of your skirt. He loves the feeling of your skin on his, it doesn’t matter what the scenario is. Whether it’s his fingers grazing yours when he hands you a cup of fresh-brewed coffee, or when his hips are pounding into yours in the throws of passion, or even just as it is now when the softest of kisses land upon his chapped lips: the feeling of you against him is like electricity pulsing throughout his entire body, bringing him to life, just like that weird story by Mary Shelley that you read to him.
It’s a rare thing for the two of you to be left alone in camp like this. Usually you have to hide away if you want any sort of privacy. But truth be told, the rest of the gang is respectfully giving the two of you some space. It’s nice not having a bitter and angry Arthur around all of the time. Ever since you publicly claimed him in the middle of camp as yours, he hasn’t been as snarky or barking at people like he usually does. And of course, people will do anything for you. The demands of daytime chores and responsibilities are one thing, but the calm evenings are left for you two. Sure, not every night is as peaceful as this, so you revel in the rare moment of solitude when the two of you can get it.
Arthur’s lips eventually part from yours to leave a trail of delicate kisses under your jaw and down your neck, hitting that favorite spot of his. The place behind your ear is where the softest skin he has found on your body is hidden. That spot always tastes so heavenly to him and draws that little breathless noise from you that drives him wild.
Arthur’s nose buries into your hair, picking up the floral notes of the soap you use to wash it with. You giggle and nuzzle him as your hands come up to cradle his head, your fingers entwined into the locks of his hair, hugging him to you as your nose wrinkles in merriment when his beard stubble delightfully tickles your sensitive skin.
And suddenly, as you roll your body closer into his, before you can even think twice about it, the words just float from your lips like a dandelion seed being carried on a summer breeze.
“I love you, Arthur.” Your voice is a breathless sigh of utter contentment, a melody singing through the air.
You haven’t seen his face yet, but feel his movements halt as his whole body goes rigid against you. Arthur slowly pulls his face from your neck and looks at you, speechless, with shocked and confused eyes, face flushed a shade of scarlet to rival the fire in front of you.
But you quickly place your fingers over his lips as if to hush any sort of protest he may have. “Now before you go crazy, Arthur, you don’t have to say it back. I simply said it because I wanted to, because it felt right just now.” You give him a soft and reassuring smile, amused by his reaction as he continues to stare at you, blinking quietly. You can tell he wants to say something in return, but can’t find the words as his mouth begins to work, but no sound comes out.
“It’s okay, Arthur,” you giggle. “Really. I didn’t tell you that to hear it back. I just wanted to make sure you know it. And you can say it if, and when, you’re ready.”
You pause to give him a moment to answer, to make sure he understands that you have no demand of him, but you can see that he is still troubled and finding it hard to articulate what he needs to say. You honestly do not need him to say it back to you. How he treats you is how he feels about you, regardless of words stated or not. Words are used to manipulate people. His actions show you everything you need to know. So thankfully, you put him out of his misery by leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth as he continues to look at you dumbstruck.
“Don’t get too worked up over it, Arthur.” You pat his cheek affectionately as a look of empathy sits upon your face. “I don’t need you having a heart attack over it. Like I said, you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know where my heart lies.”
Arthur’s forehead creases as he watches you stand up, brushing the dried leaves out of your skirt before reaching down for your blanket. You bend over to catch his scarred chin in your fingertips. “Goodnight, Arthur,” you whisper and kiss him again. You give him an impish little grin before heading over to your tent for the night.
You leave Arthur still sitting speechless on the ground, a troubled look settled upon his handsome face as he watches your lovely form fade into the darkness of night before disappearing from view altogether as you close your tent.
—-----------------------------------------------------
In the days that follow, Dutch announces that he is going to move the camp again. You are all sitting around the fire when he proceeds with an impassioned speech about moving south just outside of a town called Blackwater.
You watch Dutch as he presents himself to the group, noting how he carries himself in front of others. He is charismatic and passionate, a natural-born leader. Since you have known the dark-haired devil, he has always had a dramatic and commanding presence, drawing his people to him with his idealism and wit.
You find it amusing how Dutch’s boldness and optimism is a perfect compliment to Hosea’s skeptical wisdom. The two of them together make quite the dynamic duo, two sides of the same coin. Sometimes you wonder at the true nature of their relationship. Are they “brothers”, just as Arthur and John are, or is there more there, smoldering under the surface like hot coals left after a raging fire has burned down? Both men had their lady-loves in their lives, and both were left devastated when these sparks of light were extinguished in their otherwise dark lives. But you can’t help but wonder if there was ever more to Dutch and Hosea’s relationship than meets the eye. The “curious couple and their unruly sons.” The very idea of it makes you regard them with a softer spot in your heart.
The gang is preparing to go to work and the new location has some hot tips emanating from it. The camp is abuzz with packing and planning with everyone sprinting about and working on their assigned tasks. Arthur and Hosea are discussing a real estate tip around West Elizabeth, while Micah and Dutch have their own plan…something about a ferry boat.
Arthur and Hosea wander to sit at one of the campfires, away from distractions, and are busy discussing their tip and planning for the new move when Hosea casually asks Arthur about you.
“So…how’s things going with (Y/N)?” He gives Arthur a sly smile with that twinkle in his eye. Hosea has been silently observing the budding courtship from the beginning, carefully watching for any signs of discord that would need to be nipped in the bud before trouble brews.
A slight pink dusts Arthur’s face at the older man’s inquiry, visible even under his week-old beard. A sheepish little grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as he purses his lips in thought.
“Have you ever wanted to listen to every word someone says, even about the smallest thing in the world just so you can see their face light up and hear their voice?”
Hosea gives a light-hearted chuckle as he brings his cigarette to his wrinkled lips. “Yeah, that girl broke down those walls of yours without you even noticing she was doin’ it, didn’t she?”
But the smile slowly drips from Arthur’s face as a dark cloud settles over his features. A deep and sad sigh pushes its way from his broad chest under his worn beige jacket. His eyes relax their focus and stray to look out over the camp as he absentmindedly chews on his bottom lip. Hosea notices the change in mood and immediately fears the worst.
“Ah, shit, what did you do?” accuses the old man in disappointment.
“Nothing!” Arthur counters defensively as his face snaps back to Hosea’s attention. But he is met with the clever fox’s skeptical scowl. Arthur hesitates to share what’s on his mind, afraid that once he verbalizes the phrase again, it will become all too real.
“She…she told me that she loves me,” Arthur admits quietly, before letting his gaze float to the worn leather of his boots, his toe poking at the grass.
Like a switch has been pulled, Hosea’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Well, that’s great news, my boy!” He claps Arthur on the shoulder in congratulations. “Although I could’ve told you that after the first week she was here with us.” But when Arthur doesn't return his friend’s enthusiasm, Hosea’s smile quickly turns down again in confusion, eying him up cautiously. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know.”
“What, are you tellin’ me that you don’t love her?” Hosea asks incredulously, his face drawing up in disbelief.
“No, I wasn’t sayin’ that at all,” pouts Arthur. “‘Cause I do,” he says with a slight, yet definitive nod. The man fidgets slightly, his hands suddenly sweaty and shaky as he finally admits outloud what he’s known internally for awhile. A short, yet sharp exhale escapes him, as the statement is now out there, exposing his fragile heart for the first time in a long while.
“Well, then I fail to see the problem,” presses Hosea with a flippant wave of his hand in exasperation.
Arthur fidgets with the cigarette in his fingers, slowly rolling it between his thumb and index finger. “What if she realizes that she doesn’t? Love me, I mean?” He catches Hosea’s eye. “What if she wakes up one mornin’ and decides she don’t want me no more?” He turns his gaze outward, focusing on nothing again. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Arthur cringes when he hears his own voice whining about being loved, bitching about the same thing he said to Marston a few weeks ago. Yes, it’s sooo horrible to have a wonderful woman love me. He thinks sarcastically. God, I’m pathetic.
“I suppose I see your point.” Hosea nods his head in understanding, as Arthur’s worry becomes all too clear. “So what if she does one day? Hmm?” The old man waves his hand dismissively in the air. “But, what if it turns out that (Y/N) wants to be with you forever?” Hosea squints at Arthur. “Don't you think she’s worth the gamble?”
Arthur turns his pained eyes back to his old friend. “I can’t go through that again, Hosea. I just…I can’t do it.” He leans out on his elbows onto his thighs, head swimming with ever-present self-doubt, coupled with the desperate yearning for the love and acceptance he’s craved since he was a child.
“Arthur, if (Y/N) tells you she loves you, you better believe her.” Hosea points his weathered, crooked finger at Arthur, poking him in the chest. “Don’t be afraid to start over. You may like your new story better this time around. (Y/N) ain’t like that other one,” he grumbles, his jaw clenching slightly without even needing to mention Mary by name.
“No, I suppose you’re right. She surely ain’t.” Arthur sits quietly for a moment, mulling over Hosea’s words. Hosea always has a way of getting him to see reason, always had since Arthur was a kid. Hosea could quiet his mind with just the simplest words. Arthur takes another deep drag of his cigarette before that roguish little grin pops up again. “You know…if I somehow manage not to screw this up, Hosea…I’m gonna marry her.”
The admission makes the old man’s heart almost burst with happiness as he huffs out a laugh and pats Arthur’s shoulder again in approval. “God willing, I’ll live long enough to see that.”
The two men share a soft chuckle between them. They have been through so much together to get to this point in their lives and the idea of hope and love in the future gives them a feeling of contentment that is rare for their kind of life.
Arthur wants you, of that, there is no doubt. After Mary and Eliza, ‘love’ was just a word to Arthur, some meaningless string of letters that he’d hear from Mary-Beth as she read her silly stories. Four little characters that created an empty and almost cold feeling for him. L.O.V.E
But now, the word has taken a whole new form in you. You are his definition of desire. Arthur never knew how engulfing the flames of love could be until now, until you uttered those three simple little words to him. You are the only thing that could have brought him back to life with your hands, your lips, your soul. Arthur would journey to the ends of the earth to keep you in his life. He misses you from the moment you separate. All he knows is that nothing else makes as much sense to him as loving you. This is what it feels like to fall and not know, or care, where you land.
You have no idea the depth of how you affect Arthur, how you calm the chaos in his head and still the tornado of thoughts that threaten his sanity. When he holds you in his arms, you become the eye of his storm, the center that is safe while the gale rages wildly around him.
When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to each other. The very presence that is felt through a hand held close, a voice heard drifting into one’s ear, or even that slightest smile that you know is only for you. Souls do not have clocks or calendars; they do not function with the idea of time or distance. Devoted souls only know it feels right once they have found each other. Like a magnet to steel, beloved hearts will always be drawn to each other with that force of nature that is undeniable.
—----------------------------------------------------------------
“Uh oh”, whispers Abigail. Her brunette head pops up as she watches with trepidation from where you both pack supplies into one of the wagons.
You lift your head to follow her sightline and see Micah and Arthur arguing again. The two of them have been at it for the last few days as the plans to move out of the area are beginning to be set into motion. You wonder how Dutch could put his trust in two men who are so drastically different. It follows suit that Micah will run his mouth with Arthur getting a few verbal, sarcastic jabs in here and there. But it usually ends with Arthur simply towering over the much smaller man until he shrinks down into submission in fear of an iron fist landing into that filthy mouth of his.
This latest fight seems to be in regards to the competing jobs which have been planned for once you all move down towards Blackwater. Arthur wants nothing to do with this ferry job that Micah is pushing, citing it to be reckless and overreaching. The gang has been in the law’s cross-hairs for some time now and he and Hosea both think sticking to smaller, more reliable jobs is best right now. But Micah has been pitching a more grandiose scheme, arguing that the gang needs to strike bold and quick, garnering as much money as you can so you can start to move away from the civilization that is slowly strangling the gang. Unfortunately for Arthur, Micah seems to be like an earworm, burrowing into Dutch’s brain and playing on his already inflated ego.
You and Abigail observe with baited breath to see how far this current argument will go. But it appears Micah is not backing down this time, continuing to push Arthur to the limits of his patience. Suddenly, in a bold move of newfound courage, Micah steps up right in Arthur’s face, almost nose to nose. The cool autumn air is sucked sharply into your lungs as you gasp and your whole body freezes in apprehension, adrenaline like a knife suddenly thrown into your belly.
“(Y/N)…” Abigail warns, placing her hand on your forearm. But you are already ahead of her, quick to stride over to the feuding men. As you get closer, a small group begins to gather as the yelling continues to escalate.
“I’d take a step back and reconsider myself if I were you, Micah,” John smirks with a half-hearted warning from where he sits off to the side, sharpening his knife. John knows full-well that it is only a matter of time before this gets physical, as Arthur has little patience. He has seen Arthur pummel men into a pulp for less offensive actions. But truth be told, John would love to see Micah get his ass beat by Arthur. Hell, he’d even consider paying for it.
Arthur isn’t saying much but you can tell by the heaving of his chest and the scowl etched into his face that he’s a bomb seconds away from exploding. His broad shoulders set hard as stone as Arthur stands even straighter, towering over Micah. His large hands slowly curl into themselves, fists clenched tight like boulders at the end of his pulsing forearms.
Carefully, you approach the two men from the side, watching them closely and trying to gauge how much time you have before Arthur’s fuse burns to the end of the powder-keg. The tension in the air builds uncomfortably, causing a knot to settle in your stomach.
“Arthur?'' You call his name softly, trying not to startle him. You tilt your head to look up into his face, trying to catch his attention, but Arthur’s icy stare is trained only on Micah. But then you notice that Micah’s hand is hovering at his side, fingers flexing over his gun in its holster.
This has now elevated to a precarious situation that needs to be diffused quickly and delicately. You don’t understand why no one else is stepping in to break this up, but assume it’s probably to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Out of everyone in the gang, these are probably the two men that you absolutely would not want to tangle with.
Dutch, conveniently, is not around for this show, which may be why Micah is suddenly so bold to openly challenge Arthur like this. While he likes showing off for Dutch, Micah knows he can push the envelope when the leader of the gang is not around, as if trying to insert himself into that coveted role. Over Arthur’s dead body, that is.
When Arthur still doesn’t answer you, you inch even closer. Carefully, your arm lifts and moves fluidly across Arthur’s chest to lay your hand against his cheek. You calmly say his name again, “Arthur.”
The simple act cuts to the outlaw instantly as he blinks out of his angry trance and turns to look at you, confused as if he hadn’t even noticed you were standing there.
Once you catch his attention, you offer Arthur the softest of smiles, your eyes bright and sparkling, distracting him from the weasel that is his ire at the moment.
“Come with me, please.” Your request is quiet yet authoritative.
“What for?!” he snaps, the fury radiating off of him as you can feel how his whole body is flexed and rigid.
A slow and deep exhale emanates from you as you intensely hold his gaze. “Would you rather go for a walk with me..alone…by the river where it’s peaceful and quiet? Or sit here and argue with Micah Bell?”
You can see Arthur’s mind trying to process your words, his anger and frustration wrestling with your simple logic.
“Fine,” he barks, not really directing his venom at you.
Arthur reluctantly lets you snake your arm around his and turn him away from Micah. It’s like trying to pull a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. But Micah will not be dismissed so easily. His eyes narrow as he stares you down, just as you begin to maneuver Arthur away.
“Oh sure, run and hide behind a skirt!" Micah teases. “Pretty damn sad, Morgan!”
“Shut your damn mouth, Micah, or I will shut it for you. Permanently!” Arthur’s voice booms through the camp as his finger points in Micah’s direction to accent his point. Arthur’s eyes lock coldly with Micah’s as he cranes his neck to shoot Micah one last heated glare before he continues to walk away with you.
“Come on, you,” you delicately chide Arthur, your arm and hands tightening around his bicep just a bit more, eager to get the two of them separated as fast as you can.
Behind you, Micah stands pouting as the two of you walk away. A pain clicks in his chest as he watches how you handle Arthur. He sucks his lip between his jagged teeth, jaw clamping down on the tender skin. He’s irritated to no end with Arthur, but even more so, with your infatuation with the man. A pang of jealousy cuts deep into Micah as his fists clench open and closed as they still hover over his holster at his side.
“Micah’s got a point. Looks like Arthur’s gone soft on us,” Bill snarks as he stands with his thumbs hanging on his gunbelt.
“I’d like to see you tell him that to his face, Bill,” John quips.
“Mock all you want, gentlemen,” adds Javier, waving his hand towards Micah and Bill. “But the fact of the matter is, that man is taking that woman to bed tonight.” And he points in your direction. “You two have fun all by yourselves in your tents later.”
“Shut up, Javier,” mumbles Bill. But Micah only stands in angry silence before spinning on his heels and heading off in a huff to get a whiskey bottle from one of the supply wagons to sulk.
The wind kicks up a bit, biting at your cheeks as you walk down the path out of the camp. Arthur is heatedly silent as you walk. It is little wonder to you why so many find him so intimidating and fearsome.
Passing by the hitching posts, your gray Gypsy gets antsy, whinnying and stomping the ground in a tantrum at the possibility of being left behind. “Ugh, are you acting ornery today, too?” you huff as if scolding a child. “Alright, come on. You can come along, too.” You quickly grab Blue to follow, as he’s been pent up quite a bit lately and is itching to move about.
You lead Arthur, with your horse in tow, as the path takes you down to the river’s edge. The soft lapping of the water against the sandy edge of the bank offers a calm and welcomed change of scenery. And it is here that you turn Arthur loose, letting him vent loudly, while you simply agree with everything he says, replying occasionally with “I know” and “I get it”.
“Goddamn fool! Don’t know his ass from a hole in the ground!” shouts Arthur, waving his arms around.
“I know,” you reply calmly as you rub your hand along Blue’s nose and face. The horse nickers softly and nudges into you, like a cat purring in your hands as you watch Arthur pace back and forth in frustration like a wild animal in a cage.
“And Dutch is gonna go along with it?! Just like that?” He flashes his intense blue eyes at you.
“I know, it’s crazy,” you shake your head at him.
“Are they even thinkin’ ‘bout the rest o’ us?”
You just shrug. “I don’t get it, either,” you say calmly.
Arthur momentarily stops in his ranting and looks at you, finally taking a moment to breathe. Why you are not as heated as he is is beyond him. “Is that all you’re gonna say?”
“Well, I figured I’d let you carry-on and wear yourself out and when it’s my turn to yell, you just point and then I’ll go.” You cross your arms over your chest and give him a little smirk.
But Arthur’s face holds anything but amusement, as he firmly plants his hands on his hips in frustration. “I ain't in the mood for jokes, (Y/N),” he grits out slowly.
A grin creeps its way across your face. “I bet I could get you to laugh.”
“I doubt it,” he grumbles with a slight eye roll.
Squinting slightly in challenge with a teasing look, you walk over to him, placing your hands on his ribs before letting them slowly drift down to his waist. He raises an eyebrow at you but is quickly disappointed when your hands divert from his waistline to reach into his satchel and dig around until you pull out his leather gloves. Confused, Arthur’s eyes follow you as you saunter over to Blue and step up towards his great head, stopping to place each glove over one of the horse’s ears. As your horse twitches his ears, the gloves appear to be hands waving back and forth at you.
“Huh…Huh?” You point at Blue, a huge grin erupting over your face, clearly pleased with yourself and your childish little distraction.
Arthur just stares at you blankly, totally taken aback at your adolescent behavior. “You’re ridiculous,” he snorts with an eye roll to the heavens.
“Oh, come on, that’s funny and you know it!” you snicker, hugging Blue’s neck affectionately.
Arthur rolls his eyes skyward once more, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head at your nonsense as he finally ambles over to you. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he huffs.
Knowing he’s been beaten, Arthur sighs with resignation, wrapping you up against his barrel chest and bear-hugging you tightly. Your glittering laugh gets muffled by his chest as your arms hook under his to return his embrace. Arthur pulls back for a moment, collecting your happy little face into his giant hands, and looks down at you. But all he can do is shake his head once more before hugging you again, placing his chin atop of your head.
Amazingly, you were right: he has forgotten all about Micah Bell.
Later, after you’ve gotten Arthur to calm down enough to safely be around other people again, the two of you are tucked away in his tent. He sits on the cot, scribbling something in his journal, as you stand in front of his shaving mirror, unpinning your hair and getting ready to retire for the evening.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I found something for you!” Your face lights up with excitement as you spin around back to his table and pick up one of the items sitting there. You eagerly shove a small aluminum tin into his face, hardly able to contain yourself. Arthur peers inside, curious what it is that has you so worked up.
“Cherries?” he questions, surprised to see the little jeweled fruit inside.
“Yeah! I found a cherry tree that the birds hadn’t gotten into yet, so I picked some for you. I remember you telling me that your mother used to make cherry cobbler for you as a kid. So I was going to try and make you some.” You look down at the tin of deep red fruit, shaking it a bit and watching them roll about. “I’ll have to mix these with some that we’ve jarred up, so it probably won’t be as good as hers,” you admit, mouth twisting a bit in disappointment, “but we’ll see.” You look back at him with a simple smile and shrug before turning to set the tin back down on the table.
Arthur stares at you, thinking back to the other night at the fire when you whispered those lovely little words to him. His mind rolls over how you treat him, how you care for him, how you’ve made him your focus like no one ever has before.
“Hey, you”, he mutters softly.
You lift your face back to him, eyebrows arched awaiting him to continue. “Hmm?”
The outlaw reaches out with his calloused hand and gently wraps it around your bicep, pulling you over to him. You stand between Arthur’s knees as he holds your hips and stares up at your angelic face. You lean over and kiss his forehead, his eyes fluttering closed as you run your fingers through his hair. After a moment, his eyes slowly open again, drinking you in. And Arthur realizes as he stares into your beautiful eyes that he has fallen in love with all of the millions of simple little things that you do, things that you do all of the time, and don’t even realize you’re doing them.
“I love you, (Y/N).”
You smile brightly down at him as his gravelly voice utters those amazing words so softly from his lips. You observe the seriousness in his face, so earnest in his declaration, as if he is trying to convince you of it. Arthur waits for your reply, hoping he hasn’t taken too long to tell you, fearing you’ve had second thoughts.
After a brief moment you lean forward and kiss the tip of his nose. “I know,” you whisper, raising an eyebrow with that smart look you get.
“I mean it”, he insists. “I never wanted more ‘til I had you. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” His hands grasp a bit tighter as if he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him. “I suppose I was just too afraid to let myself go there again.”
“It’s not love that you’re afraid of, Arthur. It’s that the next person that you love will be like the person who left you broken.” You cup your hands around his face, your thumbs drawing against the weathered skin of his cheeks. “I promise, I won’t do that to you.”
Arthur’s eyebrows crease even further, that shadow of worry cascading over his face again. “(Y/N), I can’t give you the life you want, the life that you deserve.”
“Are we doing this again?” you ask with a tinge of admonishment. “Arthur, I don't want someone who will promise me the world. I want someone who will hold me when I need it; who will bring me coffee in the morning; who will pull the blanket over me on cold nights when I’m sleeping. I want someone who will love me the same as I love them: madly, uncontrollably, inconveniently, and, yeah, maybe even foolishly.” A bright smile illuminates your face. “And I think you’re just the fool I’ve been waiting for.”
This makes a small chuckle break from his stern face as he shakes his head.
You pull his stubbled face in closer to yours. “I don’t care how complicated this gets, Arthur. I still want you.”
He lifts his hands from your hips and wraps them around your wrists as you continue to hold his face. “Maybe I’m afraid because you mean more to me than anyone ever has. I don’t want to mess that up.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you won’t mess it up, Arthur.”
You watch the idea of it settle over Arthur, wrapping him up like a warm blanket and just as comforting as one, too. The tension in his shoulders ebbs away and his eyes soften and twinkle, making them rival the bluest ocean.
He smiles up at you again. “Say it.”
“What?”
“Say it again for me, would ya? Say you love me.” Arthur beams up at you as he wraps his arms completely around your hips, pulling you in and holding you tightly.
“I love you, Arthur Morgan. More than you can ever know or even comprehend.” You lean your face in close again, hovering sweetly over his. “We can do this, Arthur. I promise.”
“Yeah, we can.”
—--------------------
The next day, Arthur, Charles and Javier have gone into town to get more supplies and stop for a round of poker and a quick drink. A quick drink soon turns into many. And many drinks turns into an argument with the locals. One that ends with the boys coming home victorious, but pretty banged up. Even as drunk as they were, the Van Der Linde gang is not a group of men to be messed with.
Charles and Javier come back with mostly superficial wounds, black eyes and bruised ribs. Arthur, of course, always seems to carry the brunt of the trauma in these situations. If he’s not taking on the largest brawler, he’s dealing with more than one man at a time. Either way, Arthur is always the one to come home more torn up than the others.
But thankfully, you now have Arthur safely in your med tent, stitching up a shallow knife laceration in his side as he sits quiet and guilty. Arthur sheepishly avoids your eyes, as you are unusually silent about the situation, a clear indication that you are not happy about it. You tug on the thread of his stitches a little too aggressively as short huffs emanate from your nose in frustration.
“What if you get tired of this?” Arthur grumbles as he watches how you carefully pull the thread through his red and inflamed skin, wincing slightly as the needle pushes into his flesh over and over again.
“Of what? Patching holes in you that you get from being reckless and stupid? Or seeing you without your shirt on? Because those are two totally different things,” you quip as your eyes briefly dart up to meet his before going back to your handiwork.
“You know what I mean.”
“Well, I do hate seeing you all busted up and bleeding,” you frown. Your delicate fingers dance across the damaged skin, deftly folding the thread around your fingertips with expert precision.
“It ain’t so bad. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guy’s knuckles,” Arthur jokes.
“Funny,” you deadpan.
“You ain’t the only one who’s funny, you know.” He pokes his long finger into your ribs in jest, making you squirm as you try to keep your hands steady.
“Point taken.” You continue to fuss, cleaning his wound and scrutinizing the stitchwork. “I will always take care of you, Arthur. I promise.”
“And I will always be reckless and stupid,” he snickers.
An exasperated sigh escapes you. “That wasn’t the point.”
“Nope, can’t go back on your promise now,” he gloats.
—--------------------------------
You wake in the middle of the night in your tent, cold and lonely. Arthur was still out of camp when you went to bed tonight, but you miss him terribly. Sometimes when you are separated, you get this overwhelming feeling of emptiness without him. Maybe it is the ever-impending threat of danger that you live in. Or maybe it is that you just love him so much that it hurts to be apart.
Still half asleep, you meander out of your tent and quietly pad over to Arthur’s, hoping to find him there. When you get to his tent and pull back the opening, you find him asleep on his cot. He still has his boots on, too, which means he came home and just plopped down and passed out. (Usually he will stop by your tent upon returning to camp, but you figure he was either too tired or didn’t want to disturb you.)
You smile with a great sense of relief and slip inside the tent, affixing the tent door down behind you again in privacy. You tiptoe over to the cot and carefully crawl onto the bedding. You snuggle-up next to Arthur’s side, lifting his arm and wrapping it around yourself as you rest your head on his chest. Once settled, you breathe out a sigh of contentment, nuzzling your face into his chest and eager to feel the warmth that radiates off of him. Within moments, you are back asleep, tucked safely under Arthur’s arm.
But while you fall back to sleep, Arthur is awake for the next hour that follows. He stirs at the feeling of your delicate hand around his wrist when you settle in next to him, but he has a hard time going back to sleep now. As you lay there together, Arthur listens to your peaceful breathing and inhales your flowery scent. He relishes the feeling of your weight on his chest and your feline-like body up against him. As he lays in the soothing darkness, his gaze lands on your gently sleeping form laying upon him. He observes how your chest steadily rises and falls with each delicate breath. He notices how you have carefully entwined your leg around his own, and your fingers gracefully splay across his beating heart. Arthur realizes that he has in his grasp what he’s always wanted: someone to come home to, someone waiting for just him. And he doesn’t want to miss a single moment that he gets to hold you like this.
When Arthur eventually shifts his weight, it causes you to stir from your comforted slumber. A large and deep yawn escapes you as you roll your eyes up to meet his blue orbs gazing down at you. A sleepy grin blooms across your face when you see that he is awake.
Arthur softly runs the back of his dirt-stained knuckles against your cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, it’s alright. I should probably be getting up anyway.” You sigh with a slight pang of disappointment as you roll yourself up and stand off the cot.
“Aw c’mon, stay with me,” Arthur whines, catching your hand and holding it tightly.
“All night?”
“Yeah, all night,” he insists. “It ain’t like people don’t know what we’re up to in here. And either way, it’s none of their business anyway.” He rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he continues to hold yours, playing with your fingers and drawing his thumb over the back of your hand.
“Do you really want to roll over and wake up with my face smashed into yours?” you tease.
“More than anything.” Arthur tugs you back down to him and kisses the corner of your eye, making you giggle. ”I’ll make it worth your while,” he utters out in a sultry tone, causing your knees to go weak. Your only response is a flutter of your eyelashes and a deep kiss to his pillowy lips as you climb back onto his cot.
Arthur shifts his body and wraps his muscled arm around you to usher you back down, pinning you under him. A quiet hum escapes into the quiet, still air as he quickly deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing past your sweet lips. You hungrily reciprocate his affection, your hand gliding from his cheek to the back of his head as your fingers card through his hair. The feeling of your fingernails gently scraping along his scalp sends shivers throughout his whole tired body. Slowly, your knee bends, rubbing your leg against his much larger frame, indicating that you want more.
Arthur’s hand roams freely and greedily over your sumptuous body as his palm firmly clamps over your breast, massaging the tender flesh before his mouth encompasses it over the thin cotton of your nightgown. Your chin floats back at the feeling of him touching you, your mind already lost in an incoherent fog. He works his way from your breast to your sternum, and proceeds to leave a trail of kisses and caresses down your figure. And as things go, your heat begins to tingle and ache with dire need. The anticipation is wreaking havoc with you, drawing soft whines and moans from your throat.
The delicious sounds emanating from you set Arthur ablaze inside. He quickly sits up onto his knees as he begins to impatiently pull at your nightgown. But instead of just pushing it up, he yanks the obstructing article up and over your head. With the top half of your body exposed, Arthur makes quick work of your bloomers, folding your legs up in front of him so he can work the fabric down your lovely calves and over your feet.
You are now completely bare to him, your large, shining eyes staring up at him as he looms over you like a predator. Arthur’s own eyes are filled with a divine mixture of love and lust, just for you. Your arms stretch out to him as a silent plea for him to continue. With a smirk, Arthur is quick to pull his shirt over his head and undo the buttons of his trousers and union suit underneath. You reach up and clumsily tug at the sleeves of his undergarment, exposing his chest to the cold night air. He has no time to strip himself down completely, as once his hard cock springs free from its confines, it is very clear he is ready to get things moving along.
Arthur covers your body with his own once more, slowly rocking back and forth with a hypnotic motion. Your leg snakes around his backside in response, your heel digging into his thigh. Hot, steamy breaths cover each other’s faces from the barrage of wet heated kisses as the intimacy quickly escalates. Arthur’s hand drifts down between your two bodies to seek out your tender folds. A sharp moan jumps from your lips as the pads of his fingers sublimely rake across the delicate skin between your legs and your pelvis jerks up to grind against his palm.
“Christ Almighty,” Arthur pants with his lips crushed against your temple.
“I know”, you sigh in agreement.
A deep and guttural groan erupts from his chest, filled with want and desire for you. Feeling how your slick coats his fingers already, Arthur reluctantly withdraws his fingers to give himself a few quick pumps of his cock, using your wetness to lubricate himself. He rolls his hips to align his large body at your entrance, looking down at where your hips conjoin. Your hands find their way under his arms and grasp tightly to the flesh of his back, urging him to move forward and to do it quickly. Arthur’s chin lifts to meet your gaze, finding your mouth gaped and eyes heavy-lidded with wondrous longing as his name falls as a whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.
He hastily pushes himself into you, his usual slow and careful pace forgotten about. The feeling of his thick cock being roughly shoved into you makes you cry out, but you are quickly muffled with his scorching mouth over top of yours. Arthur is quick to start a fast pace, as his hips snap sharply into yours, rutting deeply into your core. The velvety walls of your cunt flutter tightly around him when you feel his length twitching inside you. The grinding is euphoric, sending waves of pleasure shooting throughout your bodies. The way the two of you sync up in the throws of passion is glorious, transcending any pleasure either of you have ever known.
Arthur proceeds to sit back up onto his knees so he can fully take in the vision of you, your body shuddering beneath him from his force. The cot creaks beneath you as the very strength of its joints is being tested. He wraps his hands around your soft thighs for leverage as he observes how his cock glides in and out of you. Your back lifts off of the cot, arching to angle your pelvis towards him, eager for him to fill you even more, if that is even possible. Your hands seek out his thick wrists, slightly pulling yourself towards him to match his motion. When your head drops back against the canvas of the cot again, Arthur immediately falls forward to suck on your exposed jugular, leaving slight bite marks that pinch your overly sensitive skin.
“You are so fucking amazing,” he garbles into your skin. “I don’t ever want to leave this tent.”
His burly body covers yours once again, encasing you under his muscled limbs as his arm snakes around your head, his face tucked tightly into your neck.
“Then we won’t,” you whisper. You turn your face towards his, your bottom teeth dragging across the plump skin of his earlobe, your panting hissing in his ear as he continues to rock into you. You can taste the saltiness of his skin and the faint notes of earthy musk from being out all day in the elements as your tongue flicks at the bare skin of his shoulder as you attempt to muffle your moans into the muscle there. Your whole naked body feels as if it’s on fire with every inch of it touching him right now. The sound of your beloved outlaw grunting lustfully into your ear erases any and all other outside distractions or thoughts. And as his torso lurches back and forth over you, you feel that oh-so lovely lightning barrling its way towards your climax.
“Whatever you do, don’t stop now,” you whine. Your arms encircle Arthur even tighter as you await that rapturous feeling that you know is coming.
As usual, your whole body clamps down around him when your climax hits. Your wanton squeaks and moans are a bewitching melody in Arthur’s mind. The already-tight walls of your cunt restrict around his hefty cock, drawing out a brief whimper from him, pushing him to his own orgasm as he pulls himself out of you and rubs himself against your stomach in search of that friction needed to finish.
Arthur instinctively clutches you to himself when he climaxes with an almost bone-crushing pressure. You tremble slightly, more from the overstimulation than from the damp night air encompassing you. You curl up into him, clinging desperately to his frame. Your fingertips dig into the valley of his spine, the soft chestnut colored hair that decorates his back sticking to his skin with a thin layer of sweat. The two of you have been together quite a few times by now, but every damn time it is exquisite, just as if it was the first time all over again.
The feeling of Arthur’s chest rapidly rising and falling beneath your arms mesmerizes you as you feel the very life of him coursing through your hands while you lay there wrapped up in each other. You can feel his heartbeat against your cheek as you nestle your face into that coveted space where his massive shoulder and neck meet. The weight of Arthur on top of you is so comforting. Where some may consider Arthur’s sheer bulk smothering, you find it calming. You wonder how he could ever think you are not safe when you’re with him, as that is always where you feel the most secure.
Your hips are always a bit sore after making love to Arthur, not used to opening up so wide to accommodate such a large man, but you snicker as you tell yourself that you’ll just have to do it more often to get used to it. The more you are together, the more comfortable and relaxed you become, giving in to the sweet intoxicating feeling of the other. The societal shame and guilt that often gets attributed to the act of sex have long been discarded. You two are no longer self conscious about being too loud, and are no longer hiding your bodies from each other in fear of rejection. Playful giggles of excitement, needy and eager hands, and exploratory kisses are the norm for you two now.
Both fully expended and exhausted, Arthur hands you one of his towels to clean your stomach of his pearly spend that scatters across your skin. Once you toss the soiled linen to the side, Arthur shifts his body lower so he can lay his head onto your chest and pulls his blanket up and over the two of you. Your lips lay against the crown of his head as you play with the thick waves of hair while your fingertips drag along his forearm that tightly holds you to him. And within moments, you are both fast asleep again.
—---------------------------------------------
After breakfast, you finish washing up the last of the dirty dishes, drying your hands on your short apron as you head over to the horses to give them the vegetable scraps. Arthur is already over there, throwing down some grain and fresh water for the lot. He catches your eye as you approach, giving you a smile and nod as you return his gaze with a blushing grin, the memory of last night still fresh in your mind as well as between your thighs.
Arthur watches you as you toss the greens into the horses’ buckets, laughing lightly as they push each other to get to you. “Alright, piglets, hold on. There’s enough to go around.” You lovingly pat Taimia on the neck, as she is the best behaved out of all of these “spoiled children”. Arthur draws on the cigarette that hangs from his mouth, his eyes hovering over you. He squints slightly as he fidgets with the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, his thoughts kicking around in his head since last night.
“Hey, so I’ve been doin’ some thinkin’...” he starts nervously, his voice hesitant as he tosses the butt into the grass.
You look over your shoulder back to Arthur as you try to keep Blue from nipping at your pockets, looking for treats. “Yeah?”
“When we setup the new camp in a few days, what if you put your things in my tent?” He averts his gaze from yours for a second, unsure of how you will react to his suggestion.
But you simply give him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
Arthur takes a tentative breath before he elaborates. “You know, move your things over and, um…stay there.”
It takes a moment to register, but the idea of it causes a huge smile to slowly spread across your face from ear to ear. “Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to share your tent with you?” Your cheeks flush like a brilliant rose and you nibble your bottom lip with excitement.
Arthur reciprocates with a big grin of his own. “I kinda like the idea of waking up next to you every mornin’.” He swaggers over closer to you. “Although you do snore, though.”
“I do not!” you exclaim in playful offense, your hands planting onto your hips.
“Yeah, you do. It’s cute, though,” he snickers. “Like a cat meowing.” He proceeds to imitate a snore/meow sound as he pulls you to him by your waist.
You slap his arm as you playfully scowl at him. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” Arthur arches an eyebrow at you as he ducks his head to kiss under your jawline.
“Yeah, I guess so,” smirking as you roll your eyes. “I'm kind of already invested in you and all.”
“It kinda works out nice that way. You’re mine and I’m yours.”
Your effervescent giggle makes Arthur’s heart melt. “I’ll take that deal.”
Arthur cups his hand around your cheek, his thumb pushing your chin up so he can look into your glittering eyes. “I’ll ride with you through all the bullshit, Y/N, just as long as you don’t bullshit me. Fair?”
Your delicate hands run up his chest and push over his strong shoulders where your fingers lace together behind his neck. “I can only make you two promises, Arthur: That I will never hurt you in the way that I, myself, have been hurt, and that I will love you in the ways that you, yourself, have never been loved.”
You stare into those sapphire eyes of his, trying not to get distracted by the full-range of emotions he has dammed up behind them, emotions that you have only just begun to unleash. “I don't want to just be with you, Arthur. I want to live and love with you. I want to experience every single thing, stupid or great, that our time on this Earth is willing to give us together.”
A deep and relaxing breath is pulled into Arthur’s lungs and released, taking with it any of the anxiety and doubt that he’s been fostering over this new thing, this new beginning that you have gifted him and that he cannot wait to start.
“Just be with me now and we’ll figure out the details later, I suppose,” he hums. He leans down to catch the rose petals of your lips into a delicate kiss. Your eyes float close and you smile into his mouth. The kiss is not too short, nor too long, but just perfect, as it carries all of the affection you both hold within it.
Arthur pulls back from you, and cradles your face in both of his large hands, staring down at your happy, sparkling expression.
“In my life full of wrongs, Y/N, you’re the thing that’s right in it. And I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”
#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan x f!reader#arthur morgan rdr2#arthur morgan x reader smut
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Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!
Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?
Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!
Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!
💫
hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!
i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!
finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)
note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!
all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.
hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):
@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!
@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate
@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.
@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.
@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!
@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!
@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)
@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible
@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices
@dollobotomy
general kinky content:
@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.
@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!
@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)
@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!
@femmelovefemme can step on me :)
@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!
@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol
@transpidered is forever an icon!
@subspaceemo
@writefinch for great stories and text posts
edging and denial, specifically:
@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)
@droolkink is my inspiration!
@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)
@puppycvnt is a 10/10!
@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!
@strawbrrysub
@blyssful-abyss
@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3
non-detrans genderplay:
@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!
@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!
@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.
@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol
@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)
@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post
@superiorineveryway
weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):
@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!
@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol
@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)
@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol
piss/omo:
@latenightomo
@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!
@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!
@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!
monsterfucking/terato:
@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!
@eggedbellies as well!
@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!
@steamandcream
@of-mutts-and-men
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“As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face…”
“Save your tears, it'll be okay. All I know is you're here with me…” (“Here with me” by D4vd)
Suffering from ME/CFS makes me feel like my whole world is falling apart in front of my eyes. Since I’ve already lost so much joy and so many abilities due to this devastating disease, my continuing loss seems to increase even further.
As some of you might know, do I love to write my own stories about Severus and Julia just as much as I enjoy using my tumblr blog as some kind of journal, whenever I’ve commissioned another artwork. It’s my way of rolling out a red carpet for the artists of Snapedom…it’s my way of honouring them for their talent in their profession. Commissioning those amazing people and letting them make my ideas and fantasies come to life, is my very own manner of coping with my physical and emotional pain.
And now, this coping mechanism seems to crumble into pieces as well as everything else, that I’ve already lost! It hurts me to admit, that my brain fog takes advantage of my capability to create vivid images with my words. My thoughts are getting blurry and chaotic. I’m struggling to find the right words to express my emotions (it’s even worse in my native language German than in English!!)…and this scares me to hell!
My mind was the only place, where I could find some shelter from my infuriating and terrifying reality of losing myself to ME/CFS. What if I forfeit my only - just barely existing- talent now?? How should I flee this nightmare of existence if writing wouldn’t be an option anymore?! How should I express my gratitude towards all those marvellous artists of Snapedom, who are all weaving my emotional comfort blanket with each piece of their art?!?
I don’t want to give up on my writing…and I won’t…even though my pride would probably fade away with each badly written chapter of my fictions…and with each unworthy post on my blog. I must admit, that I’m already acknowledging the loss of quality. 🥺
I found an inspiring poem about the importance of staying resilient, no matter how difficult the hardships of life might become, and I want to share it with you:
"KEEP GOING" (Better known as "DON'T QUIT") by Edgar A. Guest
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and debts are high, And you want to smile but have to sigh.
When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest, if you must, but DON'T YOU QUIT!
Life is queer with its twists and turns, As everyone of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won if he'd stuck it out, Don't give up though the pace seems slow, You might succeed with another blow.
Often the struggler has given up, When he might captured the victor's cup.
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down, How close he was to the golden crown,
Success is failure turned inside out, The silver tint on clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It may be near when it seems afar,
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit, It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.
My dear @mmad-lover, I can’t stress enough how grateful I am for your dedication to this stunning piece of art and believe me, it was worth every single second of waiting! Paula, I was incredibly touched to hear, that my request seemed to be something special, something personal to you. I can assure you, that, indeed, all of my ideas have a profound meaning to me and I’m glad that you’re such an empathetic person, who sensed that particular importance of your art to me. Your devotion to this drawing is palpable in every single detail, every line of your brushes. You created exactly the mood, that I wished for Severus and Julia. It doesn’t matter that the world is burning to the ground around them, they will always have each other’s backs! Just like I’m relying on Severus for more than 21 years now. Thank you for everything, you precious soul! I’m glad that I met you and I hope, we’ll stay in touch. 🥹
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
#Severus x Julia#Sevy x Jules#severus x oc#fuck me/cfs#commissioning artwork is my goddamn coping mechanism#this is my red carpet for all the artists of snape fandom#writing is my coping mechanism#severus snape#i love severus#i love snape#snape#snape love#snape content#pro snape#i would protect him with my life#pro severus snape#snart#severus fanart#severus snape fan art#severus snape art#snape art#mecfs#disability
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Welcome to the Inclusive Pedro & Oscar Library!
ID also in alt txt.
[ID: The banner for our blog! On top of a peach pink cloud background with sparkling stars are two rows of six circles, filled with characters played by actor Pedro Pascal. In the top row from left-to-right, are characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian, Javier Peña, Javier Gutierrez, Oberyn Martell. In the fifth circle there is cursive text reading: “The Inclusive Pedro Library.” In the sixth and last circle of the row there is a photo of Joel Miller. In the bottom row from left-to-right, are characters: Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey, Dieter Bravo, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Pero Tovar, and Frankie Morales. In the bottom right corner there is text reading: “Tumblr: @inclusivepedrolibrary.” End ID]
~
We recognized a need for an inclusive space for Pedro and Oscar fans on Tumblr, so we decided to start a curated list of fanfics and fan art.
We carefully screen all reader-insert fic recs to avoid white-coded language (such as flushing/blushing, red marks on skin, white-coded hair, etc).
We also want to build a library of POC and other underrepresented authors and artists, and curate fics and fan art featuring Pedro characters with queer and/or POC OCs. (We do not read or reblog RPF, we only accept fics about fictional characters.)
This blog is for 18+ friends only. Minors DNI. Thank you.
Please read the submissions guidelines before sending anything in!
~
Fic Recs * Fan Art Recs
POC Writers/Artists * Queer Writers/Artists * Over 30 Writers/Artists * Those who write/draw Plus Size * Disabled Writers/Artists
Tag Navigation
Inclusivity Resources
Meet the Mods
Note- Everything without a link is coming soon! Thanks for your patience as we get things up and running!
#inclusive pedro oscar library#pedro pascal character x you#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#inclusive pedro pascal fanfiction#inclusive pedro pascal character x you#race neutral fanfic#race neutral reader insert#POC friendly fanfic#POC friendly fics#Inclusive Pedro pascal fanfic#oscar isaac characters#oscar isaac character fanfiction#inclusive oscar isaac character x you
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[PT: pluvialgender
Definition pluvialgender: an aromagender connected / related to the smell of rain. can be used at anytime, but is felt strongest during or after is has rained
Originally coined by me on April 1st on Instagram account @/ dreamygenders
Colors the colors were picked from various rainy aesthetic photos and was based off the preexisting aromagender flag the colors, as of now, do not have any set meanings
Etymology “pluvial” meaning a relation or characterization of rainfall /end PT]
@radiomogai @the-mogai-archives
-.+ pluvialgender
Definition
+. || pluvialgender: an aromagender connected/related to the smell of rain. can be used at anytime, but is felt strongest during or after is has rained
+. || Originally coined by me on April 1st on Instagram account @/ dreamygenders
Colors
+. || the colors were picked from various rainy aesthetic photos and was based off the preexisting aromagender flag
+. || the colors, as of now, do not have any set meanings
Etymology
+. || “pluvial” meaning a relation or characterization of rainfall
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hi i just wanted to say, thank you very much for all of your posts and perspectives on the church hurt tags, it's very validating. the religious people around me are always pushing me to physically go to church and I've always been reluctant to despite feeling like im much closer to my faith and God as my best friend lately (all thanks to the numerous queer affirming religious blogs on tumblr btw!) and it's because of all the disagreement i have with the church and what they teach here (i live in a conservatively religious country where even supporting the queer community is frowned upon)
it makes me feel incredibly guilty that i don't feel the desire to go. not to mention, another reason is i work 6 days a week and also an introvert with not that many spoons and so i dont quite have the energy to go because sunday is the only day i get to recharge. but everytime i think about these reasons, i feel guilty as if im making excuses and that im just lazy, I can't never tell which is the truth and that only adds to my guilt.
everytime someone tells me to go to church, i long to find one where i am accepted for who i am, a place where i dont have to be afraid to be myself, a place that doesn't teach outdated beliefs that doesn't resonate with me. i long to feel the desire to go and to sing worship.
and at the same time, for me, worship and my faith lies in the small things that i do everyday, like looking at the sky and admiring the clouds, sending a quick prayer of thanks when the light turns back on after a blackout, enjoying the food that God has given me, listening to music on my way home to work, scrolling through affirming blogs and crying at the amount of compassion shown to me. but it feels like everyone says that's not enough, that we need to diligently attend church to truly be a christian but i just.. cant? which is shameful for me to admit.
im sorry this got long and became a sad rant but just, thank you for having that tag i really appreciate it, I've always been afraid to verbalize all of this thought because im afraid of being judged and being told the opposite but your posts have all been very helpful
Hey anon, I'm sorry the people around you are pressuring you to go to church, rather than doing any work to make the churches around you somewhere you could actually find spiritual flourishing. You deserve spaces where you can worship in community, but when those spaces don't exist, that is never your fault.
We can honor the sabbath in myriad ways: God's instruction to the first of humanity was not "go to church" but simply "rest," one day a week. If church is not a place you can rest in God's love, seek that rest elsewhere.
I pray that guilt will release its hold on you, that you can continue to find God in the small things, and comfort in knowing that the Divine Spirit blows wherever She will — outside church walls as much as inside them.
And I pray that you will find community that supports and celebrates you exactly as you are, whether it's among Christians or elsewhere, in person or online. We are communal creatures, created for relationship. Again, it is not your fault when others fail to extend a fully loving and reciprocal relationship to you; it is just my prayer that God will guide you towards those who can be that for you, and you for them. In the meantime, God Themself is as you say your best friend, holding you close through all things. <3
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