#le sigh 😔

[shatlass]

it’s too early in the day for this

[willosword]

im………,,,, your living…..,, legacy,,,,

[soulmatescoexist]

to have someone draws on your skin with a temporary tattoo marker is such a romantic and intimate thing to do

[galvanizedfriend]

WIP Wednesday

Posting something for WIP Weds in the hopes to get back on my writing horse. It's been tough lately, friends. This is another snippet of Speed Dating. Not directly after this, but some time later.

Anyway, hopes and prayers for me, my dudes. 😔 I need to write again. Also, about this snippet: jealous!klaroline is my not-so-secret guilty pleasure, I shall not apologize.

Conversation began to flow more freely. Rebekah and Elijah started poking at Camille as though she were a creature from a different planet, both evidently curious about Niklaus' girlfriend. Rebekah knew of her, but they were yet to meet. Cami is graceful and smart and lovely in ways she’d never been before, not to Caroline, and they all seem fascinated. Fits right in with Klaus’ family. Fits right in next to Klaus, with a hand around his elbow.

It makes Caroline sick to her stomach. She hates it. More than she hates Dr. Saltzman’s lectures, more than she hates last week’s tofu, more than she hates getting puked on by drunkards during her shifts. She hates it with every fiber of her being, so freaking much she can almost feel the revulsion singing her bones.

Above anything else, she hates how it makes her feel found out, exposed, rubbing the truth of her feelings in her face until she can no longer deny it: Caroline is infected with jealousy.

Up until that moment, she had felt it in short bursts - acute, but fleeting. It was manageable. Debatable, even. But tonight, has completely destroyed all of her defenses. The harsh, cold truth of it crashed down upon her like a giant wave. Every time Klaus even so much as looks at Camille, speaks to her, whenever his hand accidentally brushes up against hers because she’s sitting way too freaking close to him, Caroline feels an irrational spike of murderous anger, followed by an insane and uncontrollable need to throw something heavy across the room. 

She wants to scream.

Something nasty balls in her throat and makes it impossible for her to continue to socialize. The forged indifference she’s worn all night is about to crack. She is locked in battle for her dignity and being positively massacred.  

She needs a drink. Six drinks. Maybe more. Fast. Anything to dull out the brash reaction threatening to come out.

Before anyone can point out that she could just order directly from their booth, she excuses herself and slips out. Funny how she seems to be the only one to notice how utterly unbreathable the air is.

Away from prying eyes, she abandons the cocktails in favor of something more effectively numbing. She downs a shot of whiskey all at once, and then asks for another. When she signals for a third one, the bartender gives her a look. The lonely girl getting hammered at the bar is looking for trouble look.

"I just had dinner with my roommate, whom I may or may not have feelings for, and his siblings, while they get introduced to his girlfriend, ok? I'm having a really bad night, so I'd appreciate it if you could just pour me a shot and kept the judgment to yourself."

The guy shrugs. "Suit yourself."

"Thank you."

The alcohol is meant to melt down the anxious knots in her stomach, dial down her spiking nerves back to acceptable levels, but the first immediate effect is a different one. The prickly discomfort morphs into a kind of ache, dull but heavier. This sudden uncontrollable need to be the object of Klaus' attention, the reason behind his smiles, the theme of all his stories, gains sharper, clearer contours.

The extreme anxiety she's experiencing, she concludes, is illumination. The kind that comes with a heavy object falling on your head and cracking your skull wide open. This visceral reaction is the answer to all the questions she's been mulling over incessantly for months now. Suddenly, Caroline no longer feels crazy; she feels heartbroken.

[yuzuyokoi]

i missed the 11 year anniversary of george blagden’s ? how shameful

[seoulmatez]

suo hayato’s hands are for more than just fighting, they’re perfect for holding too! put your palm to his palm and he’ll let you compare the size of your hands before intertwining your fingers together. he’ll take your hand in his and run his thumb across the knuckles before bringing it up to his lips to leave a soft kiss on the back. when you’re holding hands on the street, you’ll always feel the occasional comforting squeeze and every now and then. sometimes he’ll tug you closer — he says it’s to keep you away from the road but you both know it’s because he likes to have you near

[purple-the-turtle]

im being bullied and harassed

[decimateddreams]

watching les mis Again. whoops

[allhailbrokeloose]

[sadiecoocoo]

Spooky season is great and all, but there’s also the horrors (the PSAT)

[villaincock]

i luv enstars too but cmon

paralive music >>>>> enstars music

[fudanshifoucault]

mettaton, kieran valentine, and the disastrous effects they had on my gender identity

[extremelybabygirl]

i wanna do cringy couple shits like wearing couple shirts and hold hands and be clingy and shit 😩

[bootyfullsoull]

A great friend of mine reminds me of L-Boy and fuck I wish we were still in communication

[galvanizedfriend]

Hi Yokan. I’m a silent fan of your works and haven’t had the courage to express my love for your works but I’m so excited for the wolf season 4. How’s writing going? Also, I am holding you to klaus proposing to Caroline! hope your well. 💗

Hi, nonnie! ✨ Thank you, that is so lovely of you 🥹

Writing had been... Something. 🥲 I have been thinking about the chapter every day and have sat in front of my computer and contemplated my blank document several times but I still haven't managed to get an actual start on it. There's a spark there missing, I don't know what the problem is. 😔 I *want* to write, I just don't know how to get it going. SIGH

On the plus side, I think I have the entire thing all mapped out, from start to finish, so as soon as inspiration strikes... 🥲

But thank you v much for your message, nonnie ❤️ It's always nice to know that there are folks out there waiting for an update. Have a lovely week!

[twola]

Okay, I was ABSOLUTELY obsessed with In The French Way II. It's too hot I need another Arthur anal fic😔✌ PLEASE I love the way you write ❤

In the French Way III

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

�� Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Previous

cw: in the natural progression of things - anal sex, cowboy receiving.

“Ma Cherie - now that you have given him a taste, you must- you must give him more.”

The Frenchman’s hand clasps your shoulder as he pulls you closer to the alley. You have no idea why now of all times was the time to discuss your sexual proclivities. Now, when Arthur was currently beating a man a few feet away who had threatened Châtenay’s life for sleeping with his wife, or mother…or both?

“Not now-” You whisper harshly, as the conversation is interspersed with the sound of Arthur’s fist connecting with the man’s face. 

“Non- if not now, when? I will tell you - there is no more beautiful pleasure than -mph- getting fucked. In that, I am jealous of le beau sexe.” Châtenay swirls a finger around the edge of his mustache as he swings the leather bag from over his shoulder to the ground. He roots around in the bag, muttering choice words in French before finding what he was looking for.

“Ah-ha, here we are.”

He shoves a small box into your hand with a wink. You open the box, finding a neatly wrapped piece of wood, smooth and polished to perfection. It’s strange, this cylinder of smooth lacquered wood, tipped with a gentle curve…almost… phallic?

Oh Jesus Christ.

You snap the box shut again as your eyes widen. 

“What in God’s name-”

Châtenay shakes his head. “Non, non, mon ami. You have seen the joy you have already brought your lover. This will heighten it still.”

“Charles-!” Arthur barks from the alley, having dispatched the most recent of the man’s attackers, “Think you should be gettin’ lost for a bit.” The cowboy wipes blood from his knuckles as he rejoins the two of you.

“Ah! That I shall do. Au revoir!” Charles grasps your shoulders and gives you a kiss on each cheek, and moving faster than even Arthur could comprehend, he does the same to the gunslinger before exaggeratingly bowing, before ducking out of sight.

Arthur frowns and wipes his beard, “There is somethin’ wrong with that man.”

You nod, shoving the small box into your satchel. Arthur snickers, and grabs your hand, “C’mon, I don’t feel like riding all the way back to Shady Belle t’night.”

-

“Woman, I know you got somethin’ on your mind.”

You frown, knowing you can’t hide anything from him. In this fancy hotel room, you have kicked off your boots and he’s unwound the gunbelt from his hips.

Arthur looks you up and down, raising an eyebrow. “So?”

You sigh, and pull the box that Charles gave you from your satchel before you toss the bag to the floor amongst the other things. Placing the box atop the bedspread, you take the lid off of it to show its contents.

Silence.

“Is that supposed to be a cock?” Arthur asks after a moment.

You also look down at the box, unwilling to meet his astonished gaze, burning fiercely red. 

“I…uhm, ah… it’s a-another French thing…” you stutter, unable to look at him.

Your chin is pulled up by his pointer finger, and you finally find his eyes, those blue pools that show such depth.

“I trust you.”

“Arthur-”

“I- I just- ” You stumble over your words as you turn and take the wood in your hand, heavy, solid. You wrap your fingers around it and all you can think about is how warm Arthur’s cock is when you have it in your hand.

“If it’s somethin’ I end up hatin’, we stop.”

What utter trust this man has in you. You’re unsure of how on God’s green earth that you managed to find someone like him. “You sure you want to be…fucked?”

Arthur sheepishly scratches the back of his head, “I… mean… if it’s you doin’ it.”

“I…” You grip the cock again, staring down at it.

The rustling of fabric garners your attention and you look up. Arthur has completely unbuttoned his shirt and has one arm pulled out of its sleeve. His suspenders dangle against his thighs.

“Well?” 

And in that moment, you remember the last time you had broached this idea with him. You remember his stained cheeks and blown pupils, his heavy panting and the moans… you remember the hot splash of his spend on your belly as he came - all from pressing your finger inside him.

For the first time all night, you smile back, and toss the cock to the bed as you start to undress yourself. Clothes end in a pile on the floor. Arthur grabs the balm he used last time from his satchel and hands it to you before laying down on the bed.

“Warm you up like last time?” You smile as you place the tin on the bedside table along with the wooden cock, climbing into bed and into your lover’s embrace.

He nods, pressing his lips to yours as he guides your hand to his hip. As your tongues press against one another, your hand slides across his hip, gently caressing before dipping down to press against his puckered opening. You gently slide your pointer finger inside that ring of muscle and he shivers, moaning into your mouth. Unwilling to have it over so soon, you do not press further inside to hunt for the spot that drove him wild before, but instead swirl your finger around to prepare him for something more. After a few moments of him groaning and you feeling him harden against your hip, you draw back and turn around, reaching for the balm and the wooden cock.

You open the tin and swipe your fingers to collect the balm, then slather it all over the head of the cock and down the shaft, glancing backward as you notice Arthur turning to lay on his stomach. 

You turn to sit next to him, holding the cock in one hand and the other gently caressing his lower back, “You sure you’re ready?”

“Woman, do it now or don’t-”

He shuts up completely as you press the cock against his ass. The tip breaches him and he hisses as the curve of the wood pushes past the ring of muscle. You press it inward slowly, letting a breath out of your own.

“You alright’?” You whisper, your other hand rubbing gently across his hip bone.

He nods into the pillow, and you see his fingers tighten on the fabric of the bed as you push the cock in another inch. Arthur is beautiful there, sprawled on the bed. Breath heaving, his large, muscled body completely under your spell. Under your control. He gave this of himself, something that men never do.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly again, the wooden cock halfway buried in him. He nods into the pillow, seemingly unable to speak, but raises his hips toward you the smallest bit in silent assent.

Around that curve of his hip, the smallest visage of his cock is visible to you, blood swollen and hard against the bed. Your concern is assuaged - certainly, if he wasn’t enjoying it, his cock wouldn’t be so damn hard.

Your other hand runs gently up his back to his shoulder, squeezing as you lean up on your knees next to him. Ever so slowly, gently, you press the cock down into him. Arthur groans, muffled by the pillow as the sheets are crumpled beneath his grip.

Finally, the flared base rests snug against his ass. you gaze upon him, breath heaving, and he starts to rut his hips against the mattress, trying to find some relief for his cock. The sight has your cunt wet as you sit on the bed next to him. Arthur raises his head to look up at you, breathing heavily through his nose. A fierce blush dances over his cheeks as he grunts, pushing himself up to his hands and knees.

“Get o’er here.”

He grabs and forces you underneath him and pulls your legs apart with a fervor like a wild animal. In the flash of movement, you are instantly reminded of the strength held within his body - there was no escaping his grasp - no fighting against any way he were to manipulate you.

“Fuck- next time ‘m gonna stick this in you - make you feel how good it is -” he growls as he roughly pumps his cock, panting as he lines himself up with you and pushes inside with little warning.

Your arousal eases the way, but your lover is well-endowed, and you gasp at the stretch of him as he buries those hot inches of flesh inside you. A broken wail claws its way from your throat when his hips find yours, buried as deep as he can go.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Havin’ this in you along with my cock, filling you up both ways at once?”

You moan your response as he thrusts down into you hard, digging your nails into his back. Your ankles cross over his lower back as he pummels you into the bed, red-faced and positively feral.

At a thrust that moves your whole body, your heel slips downward and bumps against the base of the wooden cock, and Arthur immediately jolts, grunting loudly as he shoves his head into the pillow.

“You -hah- like that?” You pant into his ear and he groans needily in response.

Snaking your hand underneath his arm, you’re just able to reach the base and grasp it, pulling the cock out a few inches before pushing it back in.

Arthur nearly collapses on you, barely able to keep himself from crushing you as he shoves his cock as deep as it can go into your cunt, shuddering as you repeat your motion.

“Fuck, fuck - oh - ngh - Jesus…” His teeth worry your ear when you pick up the pace, pushing and pulling the wooden cock in his ass.

“You gonna come for me?” You pant back at him and he raises himself unsteadily to his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, yeah - ‘m gonna come -” he rumbles, his pupils blown and skin flushed red, “g-onna gonna -ngh-”

You lean up and kiss him hard as you shove the cock into his ass to the base and he yelps into your mouth and mashes his hips into yours as he comes. Hot spend fills your cunt as you mewl to the sensation, throwing you over the edge as Arthur bucks again, making a pitiful sound you thought nigh impossible from the fearsome outlaw.

It's several moments, Arthur panting, shaking over you, before he’s able to regain control of his senses. He rolls off of you onto his side, one hand reaching behind himself to slowly pull the cock from his body. He squeezes his eyes shut and hisses as it slowly leaves him, biting his lower lip against the feeling of his hole having been stretched out. He tosses the lacquered wood into the pile of clothes on the floor, it lands with a loud clunk.

You gawk, astonished at him as you feel his warm spend drip from your cunt. Squeezing your legs together to stymie the flow, you wait for him to right himself, laying on his hip opposite you in the bed.

He finally opens his eyes to find you looking concerned, upset even.

“What - what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Are you alright?”

“Am I… darlin’-” he chuckles, reaching toward you and easily pulling your body into his embrace, “I’m more than alright.” He laughs, kissing your forehead as you loose a bated breath.

“That another French thing Châtenay tell you about?”

You look up at him in surprise, “What, how -”

“You think he hasn’t told me of a few crazy things either? Keeps sayin’ that the best thin’ for you is takin’ two fellers at once.”

You redden, burying yourself into Arthur’s chest to avoid making eye contact. You feel, along with hear the chuckle emanate out from his ribcage as he tightens his grip around you.

“I’m a possessive sonofabitch. You ain’t ever takin any feller but me-”

He squeezes your ass covetously.

“But think we just found a way to remedy that.”