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sunrizef1 · 24 days

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Baby baby

Pairing: dad!kylian mbappe x leclerc!mom!reader

Warnings: none

Authors note: just did instagram posts in this one

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ynmbappe

liked by kylianmbappe charles_leclerc and 608,998 others

ynmbappe parents night out

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user1 they’re so adorable

user2 where’s the baby?

user3 ik having a single date without their kid hit different

user4 no baby leclerc?

charles_leclerc yes and I’m such a great babysitter, you’re welcome

ynmbappe thank you cha

charles_leclerc 🤗

user5 have they revealed the kids name yet?

user6 no they’ve just been calling him baby mbappe

user7 kylian genuinely looks crazy in the last picture

ynmbappe and that’s after I had to put a bunch of filters on it so he looked even less crazy

arthur_leclerc gross, keep it off the tl

ynmbappe get out of my comments

ynmbappe or your baby-sitting privileges are revoked

arthur_leclerc I take it back 🙏

user8 the future of Real Madrid right there

kylianmbappe mon fille ❤️

ynmbappe mon mari ❤️

user9 they’re so in love it’s so cute

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ynmbappe

liked by arthurleclerc leomessi and 783,008 others

ynmbappe j’adore paris 💙🤍❤️

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user10 i love them

user11 kylian with baby mbappe was so cute

user12 the outfit is giving

kylianmbappe je t’aime ❤️

liked by ynmbappe

user13 I don’t even like psg but I’ll cheer for them just because of y/n

user14 never thought being a Ferrari fan would get me to cheer for psg but here we are

arthur_leclerc baby leclerc

ynmbappe baby mbappe

arthur_leclerc keep telling yourself that

ynmbappe that is my child

arthur_leclerc and?

user15 the baby nickname beef is genuinely so funny

charles_leclerc baby leclerc ❤️

ynmbappe oh my god not you too

user16 it’s so cute how kylian and the leclercs comment on all of her posts

user17 kylian hat-trick incoming

user18 when kylian walked out with baby mbappe ❤️❤️❤️

user19 baby mbappe 🥰

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ynmbappe

liked by kylianmbappe landonorris and 860,998 others

ynmbappe a much needed vacation

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user20 oh she’s so fine

user22 the superior leclerc sibling

lorenzotl where yo clothes at

ynmbappe leave

lorenzotl 🙏

user23 Lorenzo 😭

kylianmbappe ❤️❤️❤️

ynmbappe ❤️❤️❤️

user24 kylian with baby mbappe is adorable

user25 where’s the Charles comment

charles_leclerc vacation from what? Being a wag?

ynmbappe a vacation from your annoying ass

arthur_leclerc ooooooh she got you

ynmbappe ur also very annoying

arthur_leclerc ☹️

user26 ooh the girls are fighting in the comments

user27 where’d they go?

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ynmbappe

liked by paulpogba pierregasly and 605,008 others

ynmbappe viva la France

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user28 prepared for a Charles breakdown

charles_leclerc NO

charles_leclerc I spend so much time telling everyone we are not French and I did not waste all my breath just for you to turn around and embrace the French nationality

charles_leclerc I will not have this

charles_leclerc viva la MONACO***

charles_leclerc 🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨

user29 Charles oh my god 😭

user30 she didn’t even say anything about being French 😭😭😭

arthur_leclerc yasss we love the French

liked by ynmbappe

user31 Arthur 😭

user32 the difference between Arthur and Charles I’m screaming

lorenzotl you went to a national match and did not invite me?

ynmbappe don’t you have a job

lorenzotl 🤷‍♂️

user33 Lorenzo choosing not to engage in the nationality conversation

user34 where’s kylian

kylianmbappe mes filles francaise ❤️

charles_leclerc WRONG

ynmbappe leave my husband alone you loser

kylianmbappe it’s okay ange, at least I win things

charles_leclerc I don’t like you

kylianmbappe 🤗

user35 the Charles kylian beef is my favorite thing

user36 I love kylian antagonizing Charles

user37 no one’s talking about how pretty she is

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ynmbappe

liked by charles_leclerc kylianmbappe and 1,008,997 others

ynmbappe uncle Cha is coming for dadas job

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user38 prepared for more kylian Charles beef

user39 I just want to see a Charles vs kylian football match please

user40 Charles with baby mbappe 🥰

charles_leclerc “dada” what are you doing

ynmbappe that baby can’t talk yet tf do you want me to say

arthur_leclerc you just referred to your husband as “dada”

ynmbappe I obviously didn’t call him that myself you idiot

ynmbappe I was saying it as if I was talking to a literal baby

ynmbappe I’m pretty good at it since I get a lot of practice while trying to talk to you

arthur_leclerc woah now

user41 Charles immediately starting a fight because of the French post

user42 y/n’s responses 😭

user43 😍😍😍

kylianmbappe I might have some competition 😅

ynmbappe he can barely walk straight, trust me, you’re cool

charles_leclerc what the hell

ynmbappe don’t curse on my post, there’s children here

charles_leclerc you curse at me in your comments all the time???!!! The only child here is a baby who can’t even read btw

ynmbappe don’t talk about Arthur like that

arthur_leclerc again, what the hell

user44 the beef is insane in this comment section

kylianmbappe I guess he is not that bad

charles_leclerc thanks man

kylianmbappe👍

charles_leclerc still like your kid more than you

kylianmbappe 🤷‍♂️

kylianmbappe love you mon amour ❤️

ynmbappe love you too ky ❤️

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Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smau #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian mbappe x fem!reader #kylian mbappe x leclerc!reader #Charles Leclerc x sister!reader #leclerc!reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 x you

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {7}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: A short skip over the winter break and into 2024 season.. Warnings: 18+ only, fluffies WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight

Christmas Eve 2023 - French Alps The air was still when you woke to a fresh dumping of snow on the mountain. The window provided a picture of tranquillity and the embers in the fire gave a peaceful glow to the dark wood walls. Charles had disappeared at dawn for a morning ski with Arthur and you squinted against the white glare to try and find them on the mountainside.

You probably could have gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for the door crashing open and the sudden weight of a child on your legs. Penelope crawled up to the headboard with a squeal and jumped into your arms as Max just reached the bedroom door.

“P, watch out for auntie’s tummy,” Max reminded. She now had to watch out for yours and Aunt Vicky’s tummy, since your sister had announced her pregnancy a few weeks ago. “Sorry, she slept the whole flight so she’s full of energy. I tried to get her to play with Luka but she wanted you.”

“That’s okay,” you said as she burrowed under the blankets and put her cold feet on Lando’s back. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

Penelope nodded eagerly while Lando slowly woke and you were grateful he was wearing a hideous pair of santa-themed pyjama pants. With even more children around for Christmas this year, everyone had taken to wearing pyjamas. It was good for moments like these, but bad for quick access when you were spooning in the night.

“Papa let me open some presents early!”

Max disappeared out of the room with a wave, heading back to his suite with Kelly down the hall. The small mountain retreat had been completely rented out for another combined family holiday and at the rate the Norris’, Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s were procreating, an entire resort would be needed to host you all next year. Your bet was on Max and Lorenzo becoming fathers next.

“How exciting! And what did you get?”

Penelope held out her arm to show a mermaid inspired charm bracelet. “That’s beautiful!”

“It’s got Ariel!” she exclaimed, pointing to a red haired mermaid as she bounced excitedly.

“Is that an earthquake?” Lando asked as he scooped the little girl up into a hug. “No, it’s little P. Why are you waking your favourite uncle up so early?”

“You’re not my favourite,” she said with a fit of giggles.

Lando hung his head and shook it with fake sadness. “Kids are brutal.”

“Kids are honest,” you corrected before kissing his pout away.

“Gross,” P said as she screwed up her face and started to climb off the bed to find ‘Maxie’. She did a sudden u-turn and scrambled across the bed to gently touch your stomach before leaning closer and whispering, “Bye-bye, baby. Love you.”

She was gone again, this time the door swinging shut as she left with no farewell for you or Lando. He let out a little chuckle as he pushed you back into the pillows and drifted down the bed, taking the blankets with him.

“Hello, baby,” he murmured softly to the bump. At just more than half way along your bump could no longer be mistaken for overindulgence or bloating. “You are looking lovely and round this morning.”

“Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a lady,” you chuckled as you combed your fingers through his hair.

“Shh, I’m having a conversation with my daughter, no eavesdropping,” he warned with a smirk before brushing your shirt up and pressing a kiss to your skin before continuing his conversation. The moustache and shaped beard he was slowly but surely growing thicker tickled with each whispered word, the movement of his lips dragging the coarse hairs over your sensitive skin until goosebumps prickled.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he said with a smile as the door creaked open and Charles walked in with wind-kissed cheeks. “I just want to hurry up and hold you.”

“Patience, mon cher,” Charles said with a grin, depositing the second layer of cashmere he had worn under his ski jacket on the coat hook. “It’s only four more months.”

Lando groaned at the reminder before shifting on the bed to make space for Charles.

“Anything you want to add this morning?” you asked.

You reached for the hem of the shirt, ready to pull it down if it was a no when a knock had you freeze. No, it wasn’t a knock. The thud hadn’t come from outside, but inside. You dropped the shirt and stared at the jut of your hip, right where the skin went soft as it stretched up to your ribs. That soft tissue bulged ever so slightly as you felt the strange sensation of pressure and it drew a gasp that shocked your boyfriends.

“What? What is it?” Lando asked, his voice thick with concern.

“Give me your hand,” you ordered, already reaching for one of each as you placed them on the spot. “Shhh, just shhh.”

You felt it again and Charles exhaled a shaky breath that ended in a joyous laugh before grabbing Lando’s hand and shifting it slightly.

“Wha-”

“Shh,” you urged as Charles pressed a finger to his lips. The silence grew and everyone held their breath, waiting.

The air wooshed from Lando with an exclamation, “No fucking way!” His eyes grew wide and he stared at his palm as if the imprint of his daughter’s foot was permanently held on his skin. “Holy shit! She…she…kicked.”

Charles wrapped an arm around Lando as their shimmering eyes met yours. Pure happiness saturated the room, spilling out into the hall as the door opened and Oliver appeared a little worried. “Everything okay? I thought I heard Lando screeching.”

“Everything’s perfect,” Lando grinned, ignoring the joke he had heard since hitting puberty.

“She just started kicking,” Charles explained with an equally bright grin, while you danced your fingers along your side, trying to tickle her foot.

“Core memory unlocked, huh?” Oliver laughed at his brother’s eagerness, remembering the first kicks with his own daughters. “Breakfast is ready when you are.”

“Thanks, we’ll be there soon,” Charles said as Oliver closed the door again.

“Do we have to?” Lando asked as he curled back down and stared at your stomach intently. “I could watch this all day.”

“You can stay but I am hungry, and she is now shy,” you teased as you pulled your shirt back into place and climbed out of bed. With a groan he followed you to the walk-in wardrobe, just like you knew he would.

“Is the powder good?” Lando asked Charles while they changed into some casual day clothes perfect for the warm interior of the retreat.

“It’s perfect,” Charles all but moaned, it was hard to believe they were talking about snow but both of them loved to ski. “Arthur wants to head back out after lunch.”

Lando looked at you and you waved a hand. “Sheesh, babe, I’m not your keeper. You can go if you want.”

Lando hated being away the most, not that Charles enjoyed it, but there wasn’t the same level of separation anxiety that Lando had. “I don’t want to leave you here on your own.”

“On my own?” you laughed and slipped your feet into some simple flats before heading to the door. As soon as it opened the cacophony of everyone congregating in the great room down the hall spilled into your room. “I couldn’t be on my own if I tried.”

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxvertappen1, maxfewtrell and 1,382,589 others yourusername This kid scored the gene pool the lottery. Merry Christmas from my family to yours.

Round One - Bahrain 2024 Fuel fumes drifted up from the pitlane to the balcony you stood upon as the start of the season's first race grew closer. It was strange to look down the entire length of billboards and see no new faces among the driver line up. Fernando still filled the garage beside Lance, but you held no resentment for your replacement. He was making the most out of an opportunity and it almost gave you hope that even after leaving Formula 1, maybe - just maybe - there was a way to get back in.

Next year would be interesting with so many contracts up for renewal. It was a chance to see new faces on the grid, or perhaps some old faces returning if rumours were to be believed. You wouldn’t mind seeing Sebastian make a return. For the moment, everyone was still too busy talking about Lewis and his move to Ferrari to give much thought to the other shocks that might come with the disruption. The open seat at Mercedes was going to be sought after by every driver stuck in a midfield car.

“You look deep in thought.”

You broke away from staring at the starting lights to accept a cup of herbal tea from your mother. “Just thinking about how the grid will look next year.”

“Gotta get through this one first,” she reminded. “Speaking of…it’s going to be hard having a newborn at home with those two away so much.”

“I know,” you sighed, resting your arms on the balcony rail as you blew the steam from the mug. The wall calendar at home was already marked with the first half of the season, all the nights Lando and Charles would be away circled in red ink. It had been collectively agreed that flying with a newborn wasn’t a great idea so you would only attend the races you could drive to until she was at least three months old. “This year’s calendar is fucking intense.”

“I want you to know you can call me day or night, sweetie, and I’ll be on the next plane.” She reached for your chin and turned you to face her as your throat clogged with emotion. “I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to do on your own, you saw it firsthand.”

“You’ve got your own life, I don’t want you to drop it all for me.”

She laughed softly and wrapped you in a careful hug. “You’re my daughter, you are my life, my granddaughter is too.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled and wiped your eyes, seeing the cameras in the pitlane pointed your way. “Gah, you made me cry. Now I’ll be on fucking Drive to Survive. I can already see the subtitles ‘Y/N crying as the season starts without her’. Wankers.”

Your mother narrowed her eyes at the camera and flipped them off, making you choke on a laugh. “So much maturity for a grandmother.”

“Yeah well I have been wanting to do that for a while, and I figure I can’t get you fired since you’re unemployed.”

You shared a grin and thought maybe you had more in common than you realised. You thought your fight came from Jos but now you saw a flash of it in her protectiveness and your chest warmed.

“I’m not unemployed, I’m a Lady of Leisure.” You laughed at the roll of her eyes before adding. “I might even get a Birkin for a push present to complete the initiation.”

“What the hell is a push present?”

“It’s a present a new mother gets for destroying her vagina pushing a baby out.”

It was her turn to choke on a laugh. “That’s a thing?”

“Apparently so.”

“Does the baby not count as a gift?”

“Hmm, maybe you should go ask them?” you said as you jutted your head to the plethora of influencers walking around the grid taking selfies with everyone. She wrinkled her nose at the idea, quite content to stay out of the fray like you.

“No, thank you. Oh, there they are.”

You scanned the crowd and saw Max, Charles, and Lando walking out to the grid together, their heads huddled close as they tried to hear each other over the crowd. They made a beeline to the strips of red carpet and Max stood between the other two as they took their places for the national anthem.

“Looks like the podium lineup to me,” your mother whispered.

You chewed your lip and hoped the data from testing was as promising as it looked for McLaren and Ferrari. But you could never tell quite how much of it was real with the strategies and sandbagging. “I hope so, my boy’s need a good start this year.”

Click here for the next part.

#lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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twogyuu · 2 months

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[1152]

pairing: vernon x fem!reader

synopsis: fluff/comfort, mild crack, established relationship (just like magic couple)

warnings: profanity

wc: idc - i don't wanna count today

a/n: for my sad bitches <3 im a sucker for back hugs shut up wbk. inspired by ten lee's 'lie with you.'

. . . .

"Why do you do it?" you ask.

"Do what?" Vernon asks in return. He removes one side of his over ear headphones.

You lean back into his chest, letting out a heavy sigh as you tilt your head up towards the deep purple, midnight sky. You feel him adjust his arms better around your shoulder and as if it is so natural, you reach up and cling onto his forearms, giving him a comforting squeeze.

"Your headphones," you look up at him, reaching up at tapping one ear. His lips spread in a sheepish smile. "You almost always have them on - even here, when things are quiet and I thought you'd like to enjoy the sounds of nature."

Vernon raises his brows curiously. "I wouldn't call a hill in the distance where you can still hear city traffic, 'nature.'"

You elbow him playfully. "You know what I mean."

"Well," Vernon leans forward and nuzzles his chin into the crook of your neck, "Sometimes, the world is just . . . too loud. Too many opinions, too many videos, too many sounds." He releases his arms from you and reaches up to remove his headphones. He takes you by surprise, adjusting them over your ear - a soft tune is playing, accompanied by a breathy, soothing voice. "And though trying to understand other perspectives is important, sometimes, it's overwhelming. Music blocks out that noise, let's me just be and centers myself."

"Grounds you like a rock," you hum, your body starting to sway to the beat.

Vernon hums, wrapping his arms around your waist now, swaying with you. "Something like that."

And because it seems like he needed it, that's exactly what you did - just let him be, soaking in the small moment, the chaos, the calm, the distance, the closeness. After all, the two of you were just two specks in an infinite amount of time and millions of the world - why not enjoy it?

Seven songs pass, now on James Arthur's 'Falling Like the Stars' (which you don't remember was a song you added on your suggestion or he found it voluntarily), you turn back around, tugging the headphones off your head and placing it over his ears again. Your hands don't quite leave the sides of his face.

Vernon looks at you dubiously, though he's suppressing a growing grin.

"Your turn," you say.

He reaches for one hand, letting it slip and press it closer to his cheek. "Next time, we need to bring earbuds - so we can both listen."

"Gross - and pretend like we're in some teen romcom running away from high school?" you fib, though it has your heart buzzing.

"I'll clean them," Vernon states matter-of-factly.

"Oh," you chortle, "That's not what I meant."

Vernon leans in and gives you a chaste kiss. it's fleeting as he's quick to pull back. He's not usually one for PDA (not that you were in public, but physical affection in general) - though you've been dating for quite some time, it still makes you flustered.

"I'm aware," Vernon chuckles as you turn back around hastily in embarrassment. "You say it's gross, but I know you love it."

"Maybe," you fib.

"Like you didn't daydream about being in some college friends-to-lovers with drive-in movies and late-night fast food diners," Vernon calls you out. He's well-aware of your obsession with 80's teen romcoms and infatuation with the seemingly dull but bright scenes.

"Stop exposing me like that!" you shrink forward, threatening to break his linked fingers to escape free.

"There's nobody here, but us," he states the obvious, pulling you closer anyway - not like you were trying that hard to run away.

"Still."

"It's okay if you love it, you know?"

You throw him a playful scowl over your shoulder.

"Let me make your dreams come true - 3AM dinner at Dino's Diner? I'll feed you fries," Vernon offers.

You fully spin around now, pushing him away by his chest. "Yes to dinner at Dino's Diner to live out my dreams - I'll feed myself the fries."

Vernon clicks his tongue against his teeth. "Fine - suit yourself."

You chortle, jumping off the hood of the car and holding a hand out to him. He's quick to follow, but rather than linking hands, he high-fives you instead.

"Hey!"

"You said stuff like this is gross," he calls as he starts opening the door on the driver side.

You both climb into the car and click on your seatbelts.

"But . . ." you squirm uncomfortably, "Not with you."

There's a shit-eating grin on his lips now as he turns the key and engine roars. Finally, he looks over to meet your eyes, his glowing bronze underneath the city lights from the distance. Vernon extends his hand, opening it up for you to take it.

"Thank you," you quip.

"No more lying," he warns as he backs up.

"Fine - b-but, you already know I like you," you stammer.

"Like?"

You groan. "Love."

"Doesn't hurt to say it aloud sometimes."

"Touche."

"I love you."

"Vernon!"

#vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff

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softrozene · 1 year

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Reacting to Dutch Wanting a Night with Their Girl

Anonymous requested: Okay, so, I’ve had this in my head for a while. Dutch is a gross old guy who likes pretty young ladies, right? Well, Arthur/John/Javier has this real cute and super affectionate little thing on his arm. What? They’re married/engaged/dating? No, it’s fine. He taught that boy how to read! Giving up his girl for a night isn’t that big of a deal, he’s sure asking them in the middle of camp will go well.

rdr2 masterlist

ALJSFDASKL This is so long omg. Let me know if you wanted something specific or anything- Wasn’t too sure if it was a request but I had to give my input. This is how I thought they would react and lmao this was super fun.

Originally published on January 5, 2021

Arthur, Javier, John x Female Reader

Warnings: Dutch is super gross in this - We don’t stan, we do stan the three who stick up for their girl, Dutch is vulgar - I really did Dutch dirty in this but it was bound to happen eventually.

Words: ~900

Okay, one thing they all share in common is if it were you saying that Dutch said something to you, they would all be hesitant. Like “Nah, he didn’t mean it that way” or “Are you sure he said that?” or “I’ll go talk to him”- Then they end up doubting you as Dutch lies his way out of it (Yes, they would sadly be the dudes that apologizes for their friend’s behavior too)

They are hesitant only because Dutch did offer them a chance as part of the family in the gang- He did give them a decent chance at life and as anon said- Taught them to read and write. They see him as someone they owe a great lot to- so if you suddenly talk bad about him, they will want to defend him, or he will point the blame at you

In other words, their loyalty to Dutch will for sure make them not believe you at first

However- If they witness it that is an entirely different story:

Charles wasn’t asked for, but I will say since he is not that close with Dutch other than respecting him for being treated well in the gang, he will straight-up knock out Dutch the second he hears anything vulgar- Or whether you inform him. You matter more than the gang and he will defend you

Arthur Morgan-

You have been skittish lately. That does not sit well with Arthur since you are only skittish with Dutch around- He thinks it is just because you are shy and nothing else until-

Dutch- Sweet, old, crazy Dutch comes up to the both of you, more so looking at Arthur in an expecting way and asks for a night with you- With others as witnesses nonetheless?

All of you would be stunned-

Dutch has a fucking serious tone- Arthur will be frozen then just stare at him for the longest time

“Dutch- You drunk?”

“What? Son, I would never- I was simply asking a hypothetical ‘what if’ question since you have such a divine being hanging on your arm all the time. You can’t deny the chemistry we have when we look- Hey now, don’t give me that look, Son. You know I would only ask if it would benefit you-“

He would keep saying creepy things along those lines and Arthur just snaps

Either by straight-up punching him in the face- Tackling him- Anything, no one can pry him off of Dutch until he good and satisfied that this once honorable man he looked up to will never gaze upon you again in that creepy face

He loses all respect for Dutch and Dutch’s confidence with how he thought he could get Arthur’s girl for a night

Everyone is wary and on edge, but it is for the better

Molly probably opens up her eyes

John Marston-

Dutch does not even have to say anything- John notices the looks he has been giving you and he does not like it one bit

Dutch would not go to him first- Instead, John would confront him in the middle of the camp and be like “You serious right now Dutch? Eyeing my woman when I am right here, and Molly is over there?”

Dutch will respond: “I ain’t touching- I am just looking.” Or “Can you blame me? Look at her.”

“That is low- Even for you Dutch”

If Dutch even tries to defend himself, be fancy with his words, or place the blame on you- You can bet John will not hold back- The boys will have to pry him off Dutch (after letting John get a few hits in because Dutch ain’t as sly as he thinks he is)

This really is one of the worse things John has seen and he won’t stand with it (depending on how much he cares about you tbh) Like if he sees you as his wife you bet, he is ready to ditch the gang again but with you this time

We’re pretending Abigail and Jack are in a healthy place- Not this universe lamflasd

Javier Escuella-

I really hate to say this guys but the way Javier reacts depends on what chapter you are in- In the gang.

Before Chapter 5+6 he would react on your behalf-

“Dutch- Did you really ask if you can borrow mi amor?”

He is pissed- He is beyond livid, he will try to be calm and collected but that will not last long and he will act on your behalf demanding Dutch respects you

If this happens after 5 and during 6- He will really think about it

He already betrayed Arthur and John, the gang is falling apart, all he has is Dutch and you- So he will really consider it (but I doubt he would let Dutch go through with it)

After Chapter 6 though- He will not hesitate to cut a bitch Dutch

He realized that he really lost the family that had his back, and it is all because of Micah and Dutch so if Dutch has the gall to ask him after everything you all went through- It is on- He will fight for your honor and he will apologize constantly afterward for helping to ruin the family you both loved and shared

#softrozene writes #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #javier escuella x reader #female reader #rdr2 character reactions

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thisisjustmefangirling · 23 days

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Merlin rewatch : 2x09 "The lady of the lake"

Freya must have been so cold wearing these rags…

Gaius, your acceptance/resignation towards people being sold for a price if they have magic freaks me out.

As if Merlin was going to let a defenseless looking girl stay in that cage… Especially someone with magic. He feels empathy for them.

Is that the first time we're seeing the Rising sun tavern ?

Oh Merlin is using so many spells in a few minutes, I'm loving it…

"Here, I thought you might be cold."

"I just saw you and… It could have been me, in that cage".

WHY is Merlin not stealing from the kitchens instead of bringing Arthur a rotten apple and a stale piece of bread ? The NERVE ?! I wouldn't have given this to anyone, even less my BOSS, a PRINCE.

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Arthur's indignation : "I am fighting fit!"

I think this is where we're getting started with the fatphobic jokes…

Arthur has scratches/scars on his chest ? Where did he get that ?

Merlin giving Arthur "Sire" because he knows he fucked up…

Oh Freya was a druid ?

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Merlin !!!! How did you not realise that that bathwater was BOILING and could COOK ARTHUR TO DEATH ?

"You need to warn them, Sire. The girl is dangerous. My informer told me she was cursed."

"How so ?"

"He didn't know. But he said even the druids were frightened of her. They cast her out of their camp."

So Freya is an outcast. Just like Merlin, in some way. Merlin is so powerful it'd be easy to be afraid of him once he's mature enough. He's not part of the druids. Neither is Freya.

Add butter to that bread and cheese and you get un jambon-beurre haha.

"Believe me, it's fit for a prince" hahaha no shit Merlin !

"He knows but I'm not sure he understands". => Merlin about Gaius knowing about Merlin's magic.

"Magic is not a curse. It can be a gift!" Oh baby in 1x01 you feared you were a monster ?

Merlin is lying to Gaius' face and his very inquisitive eyes…

Merlin stealing Arthur's food is supposed to be a joke, okay, but I'm not sure I like it now. Arthur is being deprived of a good breakfast and lunch. He'll be cranky come evening. Give him food.

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"Merlin is my servant, he has my absolute trust. If you have a problem with him, you come to me. Do you understand ?"

This line is doing things to my heart, oh la la…

The fact that Arthur doesn't question Merlin AT ALL about his strange behaviour, they just bicker about the stolen sausages and Arthur's weight and then Merlin just… leaves. And goes straight to see Freya.

"I scare most people away" Freya you deserve better…

"You can't always trust people."

"I know. That's why I left home."

Merlin :/ Babe <3

Let it be remembered that Merlin can make flowers appear, but not food.

"With you, I can just be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. I don't have to worry."

"Being different is nothing to be scared of".

AND THAT SINGLE TEAR ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEK !

Awww Merlin behaving like a lovesick puppy <3

This is the first time Merlin even THINKS about leaving Camelot. He's known Freya for two days. He's just really desperate to be known for who he really is, and to be free…

Moths and woodworms : the "reasons" why Merlin is snooping into closets and bedside tables he should not be touching at all.

"Running an errand for Gaius" : excuse number 1 for weird shit and secret missions Merlin is doing.

Arthur not giving a fuck about Merlin possibly crossdressing for fun in his spare time : "As long as you do a decent day's work, Merlin, that's all I care about. […] What a man does in his spare time is completely up to him". And then the compliment : "colour suits you Merlin".

This is day three now.

"We can leave tonight, as soon as it gets dark, and we can be together".

Horses, blankets and food and they won't need more. A second kiss, and goodbye. Freya doesn't have the heart to tell him.

"There was a time when you thought twice about lying to me".

Yet Merlin said "Of course not!" which such an air of sincerity… Oh yeah, he's turning into a really good liar…

Mais Gaius t'es tellement une grosse balance, t'es là à lécher les pompes d'UTHER au lieu de régler le problème avec Merlin !

"You can never understand. Do you know how it feels to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are ?"

"Freya is very different from you. She's dangerous."

Oh I didn't remember Arthur saw her in her human form ! Lol he's just there blinking as she's turning into a bastet…

I can't freaking believe Arthur's guards and knights are running away while Arthur is trying to fight the bastet !

MERLIN ! You almost crushed Arthur to death !

He's petting her head ???

OH is Freya a rape survivor, forced to kill people by the mother of her rapist ? That's so fucked up…

"Please go."

"No. I'm not leaving you here".

The PARALLELS with Arthur's dying moments !

"One day, Merlin, I will repay you. I promise". Okay but do we actually see that happen in the next seasons ? I don't remember her.

What I do remember from years ago is directors saying that Colin held that level of intensity and sadness for hours in the rain for those lake scenes.

It's the first time he has to light a funeral pyre for a friend and it sadly won't be the last…

That last scene with Arthur always gets to me. Arthur might be oblivious to a lot of things but he pays attention to Merlin more than Merlin might think, I'd say.

"Something's been upsetting you, hasn't it ?"

Arthur has seen Merlin doing the weirdest things in the past four days or so : stealing his food, calling him fat, giving him stale food to eat, stealing a dress, being accused of hiding a druid… And he doesn't accuse Merlin of anything himself. He thinks "Oh, Merlin has been upset. I must find out why. Maybe it's because of me." and then he sort of apologises and when words fail him, he uses action to make Merlin smile again. Because seeing Merlin smile, as we'll learn in the next seasons ("I haven't seen you smile in the past three days") is important to Arthur. Because he cares. Another thing that gets to me is that when Merlin is sitting upset doing his chores, Arthur usually comes to sit next to him, at his eye level, or even UNDER his eye level sometimes. Yet, a Prince should never be sitting at a lower level than a servant or any lesser noble. He gives himself the look of a listener, and he's bad with words and feelings (because of his father's shitty education) but he TRIES.

Last episode was Arthur centric, with Arthur showing his most intimate thoughts and feelings to/in front of Merlin : his grief and guilt about his mother's death, his rage at the idea that his father was responsible for her death, that he was a hypocrite and a liar... This episode was Merlin centric. I wonder what next episode will be like.

This episode was really good at exploring Merlin's feelings about his magic, his identity as a warlock, his sense of loneliness at the heart of Camelot. Gaius cares about him but is still loyal to Uther, and Merlin is not sure Gaius really understands him and what it's like to be a warlock. Arthur... Merlin cares about Arthur and Arthur cares about him, but Merlin knows that he could end up in a cage just like Freya. And I think a part of him might resent Arthur for it. Or at least, at the end of the episode, he's tired of his chores... But no wonder. Your crush is killed by your soulmate, and you still have to show up at work the next day and shine his boots ?

#bbc merlin #merlin rewatch #the lady of the lake #freya #Youtube

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live-laugh-lenney · 1 month

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Hi just got into reading your writing, I adore it ❤️❤️

Was just wondering if you could write about George while during labour and after cuddling with a cute baby. I feel like he would be so cute and helpful 😂😂

thank you for coming by my blog and checking out my stuff, that means a whole lot to me! if you wanna check out the previous girl-dad!george blurb then you can read it here. xx

nearing the last few weeks of her pregnancy, all yn wants to do is stay at home.

as much as george tries to coax her out for some fresh air, just for a walk around the park down the road or sitting in the background of on one of chris' football shoots so she could get some social activity in as well as some time outside, she denies every invite that comes her way. she just doesn't feel up to it.

and george understands.

"i'm fat, i waddle instead of walk, i look gross and i haven't showered for about four days because i'm tired lugging this around," she points to the bump that protrudes from over the waistband of her tracksuit trousers and stretching the material of one of george's old t-shirts, "i just don't want to go anywhere, george."

"you're not fat," he tuts and runs the stretch of his palm across the curvature of her front, feeling the active kicks from his little girl as she moves around and gets comfortable from the previous jostling motions of yn waddling her way towards him, "you are pregnant. not fat."

"i've gained so many pounds," yn huffs her fringe from her face and he rolls his eyes, "don't roll your eyes with attitude, clarkey."

"not done with attitude," he retorts and presses a kiss to her lips, "you're just being silly, okay? the midwife told you in your last visit to her that you'd probably gain a little weight from your body changing."

she frowns and he cups her face in his hands.

"besides, all that added weight is just proof out little girl is growing healthily."

she drops her forehead to his chest, a slight stretch from her neck because of the bump restricting her from getting any closer, and she groans lowly.

"will you be okay for a few hours? i can get someone to come and sit with you for an hour or so?"

"i'll be fine," yn grumbles, lifting her head up to look at him and he has a soft and gentle look in his eyes, one that seemed to be debating on whether he should leave for chris' video shoot or stay and explain that he needed to be home with her, "don't even think about cancelling, george. i'll be fine. if anything goes wrong, i'm sure arthur can come down from upstairs."

"hill or television?"

"oh, definitely hill. i think mister frederick would pass out if he had to do anything remotely related to me being in labour."

george snorts and retrieves his hands from her, passing her by as he walks towards the door to her flat and grabs his boots for the 3g pitch chris had booked, slipping his feet into his trainers, before grabbing his hoodie from the back of her door.

"you call me if anything happens."

"george, we have three weeks."

"baby's can come early," he warns her and she rolls her eyes, "less with the attitude, missy."

"go on, go. you'll be late otherwise," yn smiles softly, "tell chris i say hi and that the baby told me that she can't wait to puke on him when she's finally here."

and, of course, everything is fine and dandy in the first few hours without george.

she made herself a sandwich then followed it with a bowl of cereal because she was craving something a little chocolatey, watching all of the youtube videos that she needed to catch up and scrolling her social media, replying to sweet messages on her twitter and doing a small q and a on her instagram for people to involve themselves in.

until she felt an ache roll across her belly.

an ache that was nothing like the braxton hicks she'd experienced just a short week ago when she'd panicked about going into labour. the midwife explaining it was just her body getting ready for when it was time to pop their little girl out, that it was nothing to worry about and that she wasn't in active labour and just needed to rest and enjoy the last few weeks as a family of two.

an ache that did worry her because it was harsh. enough to make her hunch over. enough to make her eyes water. enough to have her heart racing in her chest.

"you just had to do it without daddy here, huh? did you not hear our conversation earlier?"

she didn't want to interrupt george and she told herself that she had enough willpower to cope for the first hour, by herself, and she didn't want to call chris when he was in the middle of his shoot to tell him she needed her boyfriend when her labour was only at the first stage.

she reaches for her phone and tries to call arthur hill, except it goes to his voicemail twice. to which she left a rather agitated message in relation to how she was going to make him do all the nappy changes and have him on babysitting duty when her little one had arrived.

"yn?"

"arthur," she says, "hello."

"hi?"

"don't be so surprised i'm calling you, idiot. we're friends," she rolls her eyes to herself and her words come out as a low grumble and he huffs out a gentle laugh, "i just need your help."

"i'm in the middle of editing a new reacts video, can it wait till-"

"i think i'm in labour and i just need someone to come and sit with me for a little while. just in case," she grumbles out, looking at the clock as she kept a close eye on the minutes ticking by, "just until george comes home from his shoot with chris in a couple of hours."

"oh, shit."

"please don't panic," she begs him softly, hearing the instant shock and worry in his voice, "i'm fine. nothing is really progressing and i've only had two contractions in the last fifteen or so minutes. but-"

"no, no. it's fine. give me five minutes and i'll be down, okay? do you need me to bring you anything? does george have anything that you'll need?"

yn shakes her head, "no, no. just, yourself. please. george has a spare key in your flat, by the front door, you can use that."

"okay, i'll be there soon. just sit tight."

and when george gets home a short hour and a half after her first contraction, he's greeted with the sight of yn swaying her hips on her yoga ball in front of arthur who was sat on the sofa, her hands in his as she squeezed them gently, lips pursed as she took deep breaths in and out.

and, at first, he's confused.

until it really dawns on him and he's drops his stuff instantly. feet on their way to her before he could toe his trainers off and usually, yn would complain about the smell of his sweaty clothes after his arrival home after anything activity-related except today, she had bigger things to worry about.

"jesus christ, you didn't think to call me?"

"i didn't want to interrupt your shoot. plus, it's not too bad," yn smiles softly, her cheeks red and her forehead shiny with a thin layer of sweat building up on her skin, "arthur's been a great help. he should take up midwifery."

"no," arthur blurts out suddenly and she giggles lightly, "i don't have the stomach for it."

"okay, maybe a doula then," yn suggests, "your voice is very calming and soothing to listen to. i made him recite animal facts to distract him and myself."

she looks at george and his eyes are full of concern.

"george, i'm okay."

"she's a trooper," arthur lets george take her hands, replacing his spot in front of yn and he stands to his feet, wiping his hands on his t-shirt as they were warm and a little sticky, "do you need me or shall i leave you both to it?"

"i think we've got it," george look at him and smiles, "thanks, mate. i'll keep you updated on everything. hopefully we have a baby next time we see you."

arthur grins and bends over and presses a soft kiss to yn's forehead, squeezing her shoulder before he bids his farewell to the two of them, closing the front door behind him as he exits the flat. leaving yn and george in their own bubble, allowing them the privacy to endure the next step of their parenting journey together, the quiet feel to the room almost comforting for her as his thumb rubs over her knuckles reassuringly.

he calls the hospital, speaks to her midwife, lets yn inform of her of everything and they're told to come in because yn was definitely about to have a baby. no fake contractions this time around.

it was the real thing.

and she was terrified.

"i don't wanna go," she whispers tearfully and her feet come to halt at the front door, dropping his hand as he takes one step more and he turns to look at her, "george, i don't want to go."

"no, no. hey," he hoists the strap of the baby bag over his shoulder, her head dropping down to her chest as she hid the tears that were beginning to well and spill over her eyelids, "i know you're scared. hell, i'm scared, too. so scared. but we've got this, yeah? you've got this."

she shakes her head.

"yes, you have. you're the strongest woman i know, okay? you've been amazing through the last nine months, you've battled all you can battle, now it's time for the final step," he grins widely and she looks up at him, his palms cupping her face, "we're about to have a baby, yeah? the last nine months of growing our little bub is coming to an end."

"i can't do it," she whimpers and her bottom lip wobbles, "george, i can't."

and she bursts into tears. her cries echoing around the hallway, down the corridor of the floor of her flat, and his heart breaks at all of the emotions coming from within her. her cheeks wet. her eyes red. and he scoops her into a hug, hiding her face in his shoulder, cupping the back of her head with his hand.

"i'm with you every step of the way," he whispers, "right there, next to you, holding your hand. i'm not going anywhere."

she gulps back a thick sob, her tears dampening the shirt on his body and her knees are shaking, gently swaying as she felt a contraction start its painful ache across her stomach muscles, a heavy groan in the air that he could feel the pain radiate from.

when they get to the hospital and once she's given a room, with a pool in the corner in case she wanted it and a birthing ball beside her beside in case she found comfort on that, changing into a gown so she was a little more comfortable. the smell making her feel a little more at ease knowing she was somewhere where she could birth her baby safely. the gentle pastel colours of the walls around her making her feel less stressed and panicky and a lot more mellow and calmer.

and george stuck to his word.

he never left her side. he never tore his attention from her. he never left the room. he stayed planted to the seat beside the bed. only getting up to use the en-suite loo that came with the room and when she was after a nurse to ask a question about something she was a little scared and nervous about.

"think we should tell the guys?"

"i think arthur would have mentioned something," yn smiles, "i'm very surprised they're not in the waiting room."

"do you want them here?"

yn shakes her head, "as much as i'd love to see them, i just want you here."

he smiles and kisses her forehead.

"you're doing so well, okay? i wish i could do more for you than just hold your hand or rub your back," he frowns, "i just hate seeing you in so much pain."

"it's all worth it though, right? we get a baby at the end of this," she's softly spoken, having only just had an epidural to ease the pain she was feeling and to help her cope with the aches of her contractions, "me and you, can you believe that? not once did i ever picture us in this position when i saw you on tiktok all those years ago."

he snorts out a laugh and blushes softly.

"i'm so glad i commented on that one video you stitched onto mine," he reminds her, "don't think i'd be as happy with life than as i am now. never did i think i'd be a dad, though."

"you're going to be such a good dad," she says, "such a dilf."

yeah... so... i definitely love this girl-dad!george au that had risen up on this blog. i have a few messages in response to it so i'm going to work on them. i just love the idea of all of the boys being girl-dad's. :'))) please tell me i am not alone! anyway! thank you for requesting this. my inbox is always open for george and arthurtv chats on here. xx

#george clarkey #george clarkey imagines #george clarkey fics #george clarkey headcannons #george clarkey blurbs #george clarke #george clarke imagines #george clarke fics #george clarke headcannons #george clarke blurbs

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brothermoth · 3 months

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Rdr2 and period accuracy I guess

Bonus points to whoever was in charge of historical details in rdr2 because the amount of spot on, God awful hair and beard styles makes me so happy. 1800-1900 were some of the worst years for decent haircuts. Clothes? Great, wonderful. BUT MUTTON CHOPS??? That stupid middle part slicked-back hair for men? Crimes. War crimes.

Look at this shit. You see this??? Some of these fellas have attractive faces but then they ruined it by doing THAT. Civil war era and regency period are my absolute least favorite times for men. How do you let that hair rope stay on your face?? Half of them look like they're wearing toupees or desperately combing the last bits of balding hair (some of them are, to be fair). Half the NPCs in red dead are utterly unfuckable and I love it. It's really cool when media lets people be ugly and grimy. A lot of the people Arthur comes across are poor, working class people who were often a little gross, especially men living on horseback doing a lot of manual labor. The women wear makeup, but they're not overly polished Hollywood esque pantomimes of historical women. They're allowed to be a little nasty too. Karen absolutely has the pussy equivalent of the Chernobyl elephant's foot and I love that for her! Sometimes media overdoes the unclean factor and makes it like...a metaphor in and of itself for low morals (Pirates of the Caribbean I love you but yeah). Your main characters are shiny and clean where villains are dirty and "unclean".

This is not to say poverty=dirt. At the time though, extreme poverty in cities and places with no natural water sources did equal a bit of funk. They just couldn't afford to pay for baths. Those who cared used perfumes, sponge baths when available. They kept their undergarments regularly washed if they could. The thing is, just like today, some people just didn't care. They lived in the woods and said "fuck it" and didn't bother. Rdr2 says "yeah ain't nobody is washing their ass ♥️" and let that apply to our protagonists too! No matter how much you bathe Arthur that man wears boots with no socks and it's so bad even Sean comments on the man's feet. I can't even wear Crocs without socks because that shit is a biohazard. Imagine BOOTS.

I don't know where I was going with this, but the overall gist is that we should strive for accuracy and a fair portrayal of human bodies as things that do in fact produce ick. And that's okay! You can be hot and also have lack of access to modern hygiene. Unless you have mutton chops, I guess.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #History #Historical rant from an anthropology nerd #arthur morgan #Karen Jones #red dead redemption

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 1 year

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Jealous Reactions

Okay, so, I'm gonna try to pop out some requests that I've been far too busy to actually write, and I hope I get all of them!

If you sent me a request and after I post a bunch of these (Don't worry I'll make a seperate post when I believe I've gotten all of them) and you don't see yours PLEASE let me know and I will make sure I write it up for you, It's hard to keep track of things sometimes!

So, with that being said over the next few days I should be putting out quite a few of these!

ANYWAY- This was requested by @untitled53171

But, I'm also going to @mrsarthurmorgan7 because you've been wanting more Chubby Arthur and this is more chubby Arthur!

No worries I'll always write for chubby Arthur, he is after all my favorite chubby guy.

So, let's get on with the show!

(My photo below, feel free to use if you'd like! Just make sure I'm credited!)

WARNINGS: Fluff, Arthur being jealous and chubby, Maybe curse words, Chubby reader

Tags: @kieropal @cantchoosejust1 @photo1030 @pcotarelo @6kaja9

Arthur couldn't help but get angry as he watched you in the Saloon.

The two of you were here to celebrate a job done well, yet here he was being sour, watching with a frown on his face, as you interacted with patrons throughout the bar, and with some of the gang members who'd come with the two of you.

He felt a tinge of hot lightning strike through his body every time you pushed past someone and gently placed your hands on their chests to pass around them.

Each time you laughed at someone's joke and it wasn't his he seemed to see red.

The two of you weren't technically an item, no, but everyone in camp could see just how much he liked you, everyone, it seemed like you were the only one who couldn't.

Or, maybe you could and you liked to torture him.

Arthur quelled a growl that seemed to crawl up his throat and gripped the beer bottle that he'd sat down on his table.

If he wasn't careful he'd break it, he knew that, but he had to grab something, anything to try and focus his frustration to something else.

Was this....

He couldn't be, not him....

He wasn't....Jealous, was he?

Quietly he let out a breath and looked down at himself.

He felt like he'd let himself go over the past year or so, he'd gained weight, his stomach hung over his belt, he'd gotten a double chin that he couldn't bare to look at so he kept his beard just slightly long enough to cover it.

His arms were huge, he knew that, and he also knew a lot of it was muscle but at the same time he couldn't help but look at the fat that hung off of them.

His thighs and legs were massive, he'd had to go up two pants sizes and change his belt out for a bigger one.

No wonder you weren't paying attention to him.

He was nothing but a fat piece of shit, a murderer and an outlaw who wasn't attractive and wasn't fit.

Maybe if he'd lost a couple of pounds, you'd be more inclined to look his way.

He huffed and clenched the bottle again before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.

Maybe he could drink the jealousy away, though if he got drunk nothing good would come of that.

He watched as you walked up to Bill who leaned against the bar, he couldn't help but watch your figure, the way your stomach pudged out further than the rest of you, it always looked so soft, so squeezable, he found his eyes wondering down towards your thighs, the way they curved outwards, and he always felt as though he wanted to pull you close with his hands rested against them.

Every part of you made you seem irresistible to him. You had a rounder face, with chubby little cheeks, and the extra weight you had wasn't gross like the extra weight he had.

On you it looked natural and right, it added an approachability to you that he loved so dearly, it made you so attractive to him, and he loved every inch of you, every inch.

There was no way that you'd be with him, he'll he was bigger than Bill, and you were talking to him, so why on earth would you talk to Arthur instead?

His jaw clenched and he looked at the table, looking at the scratches that had been carved into the wood.

Some initials left by previous patrons, some knife marks left by someone playing five finger fillet.

Still not enough to distract him, that's for sure.

He looked up, only to be taken aback as you stood right in front of him.

He nearly fell off his chair, his feet hitting the ground from where they'd been propped against the table.

"Jesus Y/N, why don't you announce yourself next time?"

"Well, maybe you should pay attention next time." You chuckle and take a seat across from him, watching his eyebrows furrow, and his eyes darken as he watches you sit.

"What the hell you want?"

"What's with the attitude Arthur, I'm here to celebrate with you! We did it! The score was a good one, we got a decent take from it, everyone else is drinking and dancing, so why aren't you? You're usually the life of the party when alcohol is involved." You place a hand against the table leaning towards him.

"I ain't got nothin' to celebrate." He mutters under his breath. "It was a job, it was done, we got the money. That's it."

"We always celebrate a job done well, we did it a few weeks ago, and you were nothing but smiles then, so what changed?"

He clenched his jaw and then took another swig from the bottle that had become nearly glued to his hand with how hard he was clenching it.

"Nothin' changed."

"Arthur, you can't lie to me, it's plain on your face just how angry you are."

"I ain't...angry." He huffs and looks down, swallowing quietly.

"Okay, then what's that look on your face for?" You grin and flick his nose, watching as he tracks your finger and flinches slightly at your flick.

"I..." He swallows for a moment and looks away. "I don't like how you're touchin' everyone."

"What?"

"Movin' past 'em, and...puttin'...your hands on their chests, I...I don't like it, and talkin' to Bill, laughin' at everyone's jokes....it....it ain't me." He manages to choke out what he's thinking.

You're stunned shocked for a moment and then you hear yourself start snorting, and before you know it you're unable to stop yourself from laughing.

Arthur looks at you with a stern look, yet his cheeks are turning crimson, and you try your best to stop laughing for his expense, but it takes a while for you to properly stop them.

You swallow, trying to push the chortles back down your throat, and look him in the eyes.

"Are you....Jealous, of these guys Arthur?"

He takes a deep breath and looks down before nodding quietly.

You're torn for a moment between laughing and comforting him, and in the end you decide on the latter, placing your hand gently against his shoulder.

He looks at you, and he's not near crying, but there's a look in his eyes that certainly breaks your heart.

"I jus'....I wish...I wish you'd look at me that way...I..." He looks around, hoping that no one was near enough to hear the next words that came out of his mouth. "I want...I want you to hold me that way, put your hands on me like that....I...I know, that's stupid...for me to feel-"

"Arthur, you have nothing to be jealous about."

You cut him off and then stand, moving your seat closer to him, facing it towards him.

Quietly you bring your hand over his and hold it there, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, at all. You realize that I'm sweet on you, don't you?"

He looks up at you with a sharp jerk of his neck, his eyes widening as the words fall out of your mouth.

"I've been sweet on you for god knows how long." You sigh. "I just couldn't convince myself to tell you, I couldn't see you feeling the same, but...you being jealous...I mean...you must be sweet on me too, right?"

"I am...Have been, for a while, like you."

You nod and quietly look around before looking him in the eye.

"You have NOTHING to be jealous of, nothing, I was just pushing around them, talking, the only person I want to be close to is you, only you."

"I...Y/N, I don't know what to say...I suppose I was bein' foolish."

"Why don't you just talk to me about it next time cowboy?"

He nods quietly, and his face stays crimson, embarrassed at his behavior.

Gently you cup his face and pull him close, placing your lips against his gently, feeling a warmth spread through you as the two of you smile against each others lips.

That jealousy is quick to melt away.

#arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #chubby arthur #chubby reader #red ded redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 drabble #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 community

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

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Mine

Summary: When she took a job at the night club, all the second Shelby sister wanted was to be in control of her own life. Unfortunately, her brothers don’t approve

(gif by @tatianapetrovna)

A/N: Okay so this one took me ages, because I spend way too much time researching the history of dance, of prejudice and even old maps and descriptions of 1920’s Birmingham XD All because anon requested: Thura, you wonderful wonderful person. I’ve been saving this request and waiting for your requests to reopen for your talents. Could I please request a Shelby sister where she loves dancing and becomes an exotic dancer at a club, and of course her brothers are horrified when they find out but she manages to convince them that it’s all for her own empowerment Historically, I hope this is all correct, but I put my best woman onto the research as well as I did my own research. There’s no such thing as an exotic dancer yet at that time, or at least the term doesn’t exist, but things like ‘dancing girls’ or ‘the variety’ obviously do exist. These forms of variety were more entertainment for the upper class btw, because they didn’t have to bother with mores as much. You did have different kinds of ‘music hall’ entertainment, a little similar, which was more the working-class entertainment. This wasn’t prostitution, but there were a lot of grey areas. Either way, all women up on the stage, whether they performed half-naked or not, were suspected and accused of prostitution. Legally, the Criminal Law Amendment of 1885, the law that also made ‘gross indecency’ between men punishable, also dealt with sex trafficking and blurred the lines between acting and prostitution even more.

Shelby sis a few years younger than Ada in this, 18, older than Finn, and this takes place around season two. Hope you like this! Words: 3411 ***

Ada’s London home still looked like a vardo, you thought, as you sat on the brightly coloured sofa in het front room. Sure, it was big and fancy, provided to her by Tommy, but half the rooms weren’t being used. The maids’ rooms in the back of the house were simply gathering dust, because Ada couldn’t bear it on her political conscience. And the furniture, well, it wasn’t very different from their interior at Watery Lane: a strange mixture of old items and always a little too colourful and crowded to be properly respectable.

“What?” your sister demanded, reading the deep thoughts on your face. “I like your home,” youquickly said. “Liar,” Ada threw back, “What’s brought you here, then?” You got straight to the point, “I’m sick of Tommy looming over me like I’m still a child. And it’s not just him. John feels he can interfere in whatever I’m doing as well, keeps banging on about me getting married. Even Arthur keeps taps on where I’m going and where I’ve been. I feel like a fucking prisoner in my own house.” “Ah,” Ada said sarcastically, “Welcome to the life of a Shelby woman. Must’ve been nice, being their little princess, but now it’s time to grow up.” “And that’s what I fucking want! I want to be able to make my own way.” “Well, you can’t sweetheart, not while they’re around. Remember I moved to London to get away from them? And here I am: sitting in Tommy Shelby’s fucking house,” she sipped her drink a little too aggressively. You downed yours and sighed, “You got married, Ada. I have no fucking intention of doing that.” “Oh? Why not?” “No one’s good enough.” Ada laughed, “Bravo.” The two of you sat in silence for a while. In many ways, you were very similar. Two sisters, quite close in age, who were Shelby’s without a doubt, but sick of the business. Ada coped with all of it by distancing herself, through sarcasm and aloofness. You had tried to do the same and cursed your Shelby name in silence, but your brothers wouldn’t let you. They were always so protectiveand it irritated you to no end. Even when you decided to buy a dress for yourself, one that you had picked out, it was theirmoney you were spending. “I want out, Ada.” “So get out.” *** Being a woman in the 20’s wasn’t easy. You’d heard talk of women being more liberated now, of fighting for their rights and being able to control their own lives. This may have been the case for rich upper-class women or those without brothers, being able to march in protests, but not when you were a Shelby from Small Heath. As you walked through muddy streets, you saw all those women selling their bodies and you wondered: were they free? Did they choose? Probably not. Not here. At night, you loved to dance. Often, you walked for over an hour to get to a pub or club where your brothers wouldn’t find you. The Shelby name did help you there, it meant they served drinks to a woman alone, but it wasn’t so much about drinking alone. What mattered to you was the feeling of freedom, of going out and a party never seeming to end. Of dancing, dancing and dancing, and no one telling you to stop. And so you walked until you ended up at the club where you wanted to be. Being blessed with the Shelby good looks wasn’t a bad thing either. Outside, you saw the rich and fancy young men lining up. They didn’t have to worry about their reputation, they didn’t even have to worry about getting arrested, because if they were, the judge would simply let them get off with a simple fine, which they would be able to pay easily. “Alright, fella’s!” you called out cheerfully, turning on your best smile. At once, you noticed them checking you out. You made sure you’d put on your best dress and just as easy as that, you were on the arm of one of them, and he happily paid your fee for you to get inside. “Dance with me, sweetheart,” he breathed into your ear, already drunk by the smell of things. Intoxicated by the music and atmosphere, you danced and forgot all about being a Shelby. Drinks were offered to you left and right, so you eventually had to excuse yourself to visit the powder room. Another girl eyed you as you were fixing your lipstick. She asked, a smile playing around her lips, “First time out in ages, love?” “Nah,” you replied, “But it feels like that sometimes. Finally, free again.” The girl laughed and you noticed how absolutely gorgeous she was, pearly white teeth blinking against dark brown skin and a skirt that seemed to sway even when she didn’t move. Immediately, you were envious of her and all that she represented. She said, “You work at the Alex?” The Alexandra Theatre offered many variety acts and you knew your brothers went there on occasion. What really went on in there, you couldn’t be sure, but you were certain they’d never want you to come along. “No,” you sighed, “My brothers would kill me.” “Luckily I don’t have to worry about mine anymore,” the girl replied airily, “All of us girls, we got ourselves a lodging together. The people don’t approve, but we’re free to do as we please.” “I want that,” you said, without even realising you’d spoken out loud.

“Well, you can, sweetheart,” she turned to you, “If you really want it.” “How?” “I know a man who can get you a job at the Hippodrome. I mean, I’ve seen you; you’re good with people and you know how to dance. And if you ever need a place to stay, if your brothers kick you out, you’re always welcome to stay with us.” Everything she said made you feel so excited, but also scared. And then you asked doubtfully, “Why would you help me?” “Oh, I was once a lot like you. You want to get out, right? You want to make your own money and have your own life. Fuck what people will think of you, they’ll judge you no matter what, at least you can decide on this. You decide to dance and who to make eye contact with and who can touch you and most of all, who fuckingcan’t. Men no longer control your body, only you. That’s what you want, isn’t it, sweetheart?” And that was exactly what you wanted. ***

Weeks had gone by and you were managing your double life quite well. Your brothers were busy with doing whatever it was they were doing and Ada kept her mouth shut. She was too busy trying to not be a Shelby anyway. At the club, you’d met the most amazing girls and had finally found likeminded souls. It was as if they belonged to a different era. The idea of girls having so much freedom to work, earn their own money and just have a good time in the process had been mind-blowing to you, but so, so liberating.

At first, you’d only been a background dancer for the different variety acts, but eventually you’d moved up to doing your own acts as well. Your fan-dance was particularly popular amongst the rich student boys. And, truth be told, you loved the attention. You loved being up on the stage, dancing away and being no longer made to cover up. Of course, many wanted more of you than just to watch you, but you still managed to turn them away with just a cheeky laugh or a decisive ‘no’. This was the life for you, you were certain.

Aunt Polly, however, did have her suspicions and one night she straight up told you, “Are you safe, working down at that club?” You’d tried to deny it at first, but there was no point: Polly had seen you exit the club and you quickly realized she knew everything going on in Birmingham. “Take this,” she’d told you and handed you a small revolver, “It’ll fit down your dress.” You’d protested a little, but knew she was right: better safe than sorry. Still, you didn’t plan on living like this forever. Freedom was limited if it meant you had to sneak about in the evenings and lie to everyone you loved. The girl you’d met at the club kept on offering you a room though and you thought seriously about taking her up on her offer. This, however, would force your hand: you’d have to tell your brothers about your work. *** It was a few days after your brothers had had their holiday in London. You’d come home from work late at night and Tommy was sitting there, waiting for you in the kitchen. “And where have you been?” he demanded, darkly. “Out.” He nodded slowly, but kept looking at you, “I have contacts inside the factories, Y/N. They tell me you no longer work there.” Obviously, you’d given up your job at the BSA, because why would you do both? “You always told me there was no need for me to work,” you threw back, “You always said that you’d take care of me.” “I did. But you never wanted that, did you? You wanted to be your own fucking woman.” Head held high, you asked, “What’s wrong with that?” “Nothing,” Tommy shrugged, “If you don’t mind people talking.” “Fuck people.” “Where did you get the coat, Y/N?” he fired next. “I bought it.” But you realised your mistake at once. Tommy smiled coldly, “With what money? There was nothing taken from the safe.” You started fidgeting a little and turned on your heels, planning to make a quick getaway. Your brother continued, “See, me and John and Arthur went to London today. Business. And we went down to the Eden Club, you might have heard of it? And the things I saw there, Y/N… The music and the booze and all those fucking half-naked girls, men fucking them right there in their seats. Nothing but fucking maniacs out there…”

“Get to the point, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes went dark again and he pointed at you, “They might as well be fucking you.” “I’m not fucking anyone!” you protested. But he slammed a hand down on the table, “I know you’re working at once of those clubs, Y/N, and you tried to keep it a secret, but guess what? Nothing happens in this city without my consent. And you’re not having it.” The same fury you saw in him was rising up in you as well, “You don’t control me, Tommy.” “I do. And you will do as I say.” He whispered venom, “I will discuss this with your brothers, but I can tell you right now, they feel the same. So here it is: you’ll stop working there right fucking now.” “No!” you shouted out, “I fucking won’t!” “I will not have a fucking whorefor a sister!”

That hurt, so you turned around and left. Behind you, you heard Tommy shouting, “You’ll stop, you hear me?” *** But you didn’t stop. You just told the other girls you were sick and had to take off work for a few days. The boss wouldn’t put up with it for much longer though. For another week you kept pretending you had errands to run or friends to meet at night, but your brothers would no longer let you out of their sight. Surprisingly enough, none of them approved. One night, you’d had enough and the warning had come that if you didn’t dance tonight, your job would go to another. So, putting on your best dress, you were planning to leave the house and no one was going to stop you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Arthur growled from the betting shop. You hadn’t even noticed his presence. “Out.” “Tommy’s told us…” he started. “Yes, I know what he’s told you, alright?” you said without patience, “He told you your sister is a whore who fucks rich men for money, right?” Arthur looked down, but repeated, “You’re not going nowhere.” “Watch me,” you hissed and made your way to the door, but Arthur grabbed your arm before you could leave. At once, you spun around and slapped him, shouting, “Get the fuck off me!” But your brother was the stronger one, raising his voice to drown yours out, trying to calm you down, but to no avail. That’s when John came running, bellowing, “What the fuck is going on here?” “She defied Tommy’s orders, John,” Arthur explained, “She’s still working at that club.” “Fucking orders,really?” you breathed. John sighed, and for a moment you thought he’d side with you, but then he said, “I’ll go and get Tommy.”

“I’m going to be late,” you tried desperately to sound casual, as all three brothers now gathered around you. Tommy smoked emotionless, “And maybe then they’ll fire you instead of you leaving like I fucking told you to.” Roughly, you pulled back your arm from Arthur’s grip, “ And I fucking told you, Thomas, I’m keeping this job. Now, if you don’t want me living here anymore because I’m such a fucking embarrassment to the good Shelby name, I’ll move out!” “Move out to where?” he scoffed. “A friend has a place where I can stay.” “Fine,” he raised his eyebrows, “Go and fucking live with her.” “Thomas,” your aunt had now also joined the party, “Let’s talk about this first.” “There’s nothing to talk about, Aunt Pol,” Arthur said, “It’s all in hand.” “I can see that,” she replied sarcastically, “I’m guessing this is about Y/N’s new job?” John looked at Polly, “You knew about this?” “Of course, I do. Nothing goes on in this house without me knowing about it.” John turned back to you, “Why the fuck would you think you can do that job without any danger?” “Because I have a gun!” Smiling, you held up the weapon that you’d just produced from your garter. “Pol, I decided,” Tommy continued, “She’s not doing it.” “Why!” you called out, exasperated, “Why are you all so against it? I mean, it’s not fucking morals that’s the problem, is it? We’re the Shelby’s! And people already think we’re scum, so who the fuck cares!” “It’s not safe,” John replied at once. And you actually believed his main worry was for your safety. After all, he’d been the one who had wanted to marry Lizzie Stark. The others had all laughed at him. Hell, even you had. And in that very moment, your view of him and that entire situation, which had seemed so funny back then, changed. “It’s not… right,” Arthur protested. You rolled your eyes at that, “You, all of you, all the time, pay for sex. Don’t fucking tell me it’s not right.” “So, that’s what you do, eh?” Tommy asked, “You sell sex.” “No!” “And you somehow think we’d be alright with that,” he continued, voice softening a little bit, “It’s not alright, Y/N.” Polly looked from him to you, and said, “She doesn’t, Tommy. She’s a dancer.” “What’s the fucking difference?” he laughed. “This is the last time I’m going to say this:” you sighed, “I do not fuck men for money!” Three pairs of eyes looked sceptically back at you. “I’m a dancer, like Aunt Polly said. I do the variety on most nights, when they do they sketches about the politicians? I’m a background dancer.” You paused for a moment, “And recently I’ve also been asked to do some solo performances. It’s just me dancing on stage, yes I’m not covered from head to toe, but I’m up on stage. No one can touch me. My body is there to look at, nothing else.” “Your body is there to look at,” Tommy shook his head, cynical smirk playing about his lips. “Yes,” you hissed, “Because whether you like it or not, my body is mine. I fucking decide what I do with it and you know what? I’m fucking beautiful and everyone over there thinks so. And I’m good at dancing, Tommy, I’m actually really fucking good at it. But I dance, because I decide. I can flaunt all of it, because it’s mine.” Arthur still had a very dark expression, “What about after the show. Me and John, we’ve been to the Alex, so we know what the girls do…” “They walk around, chat up the men and sip their drinks while sitting on their laps,” you filled in the blanks, “I know.” “Oh, they do a lot more than that,” John smirked, but he quickly looked down to hide it. “But I don’t.” “Why would you even want to do this?” John looked up, “Why this of all the things you can do?” “Why not?” you threw back, “I’m good at it, I’m making my own money, and for the first time I don’t feel ashamed or scared for being a woman.” Tommy shook his head again, “You’re being exploited, Y/N.” “That’s rich coming from you,” Aunt Polly laughed, “So it’s alright if you go to them, alright for you to exploit them, but not when your sister dances out of her own free will?” “Do we have a man inside?” John asked Tommy, “Like the doorman?” And when tommy nodded, he said, “I’ll talk to him and make sure he looks out for Y/N.” “You’re bloody agreeing to this?!” Arthur shouted. John only shrugged in reply, but when you shared a look with him, you knew he understood.

Arthur opened his mouth again, but you quickly cut him off, “It’s feminism, Arthur, and you wouldn’t understand.” “What the fuck is feminism?” “Exactly.” Now the only one left to deal with was Tommy and he was obviously the most adamant one. Stubborn and angry, he stood there, cigarette against his lips. But he wasn’t the only Shelby who wouldn’t budge when pushed; you could be just as stubborn as he was. “If you hate men looking at me or the idea of them paying for my body, maybe you should reconsider using women like that yourself, Tommy,” you fired. He locked eyes with you, which made you more nervous than anything he could’ve said. Then ground out, “That’s the thing, Y/N, I know men.” “Oh, so do I, Tommy. Better than you do, I’m sure, especially now that I’ve worked this job.” He rolled his eyes. “Listen to me,” you urged, “Because I know you can understand. It’s all just a game, everything I do is a game. I do what I’m good at and I show them what they can’t have, and they fucking pay for it. They pay for what they can’t have, and even you have to be impressed by that. I know how they think, these rich boys at the Hippodrome, and when they think I like them or just talk to them for a second, they’ll give me everything I want. The rich toffs in control? I can play them all. I’m in control, Tommy. I am. They think the girls are easy? Theyare. They don’t buy me and I don’t sell sex. I own them.” A glimpse of something like recognition passed over Tommy’s face and you knew what you said made sense to him. Because in many ways, you weren’t as different. “You think I’m a whore?” you asked, “You really think so?” He looked down and thought about it. Then he said, “Everyone’s a whore. We just sell different parts of ourselves.” “Exactly.” And that’s when you knew he did understand. “Let her go,” Polly said softly after a while. “Fine, you can go,” your brother finally agreed, “But you come to me if there’s any trouble.” With a smile, you nodded. “Also, don’t expect to see us in there,” Arthur grumbled, sounding a little sad that he could no longer come to the club now that his baby sister was working there. Absolutely excited, you sprinted out the door, because you really were running late now. But after about a minute, you came back running inside again. “Now what?” John asked. “I forgot my feathers!” you called out, while thumping up the stairs. “Fucking feathers,” Tommy sighed. And with your most charming smile, you came hurrying back down again, “For my fan-dance!” But none of the brothers really wanted to know. *** Masterlist

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sapphosclown · 11 months

Text

It’s How Guys Talk

Cynthia is a virgin and a lesbian and lives in the 1950s. For better or worse, she decides Gil is her best bet for advice.

aka cynthia goes to big brother gil for a sex talk

This is not smut, they are simply talking about their feelings. Also Cynthia and Lydia are out to their inner circles.

———

Things were going good. Too good. Good enough that Cynthia was starting to understand that feeling Jane had talked about, waiting for a bomb to drop.

It’s been easier than she imagined, being with Lydia. During rehearsals they’d find ways to hold hands without making a scene about it, Floyd and Arthur would help hide it as well. Not that they thought the rest of the thespians would care, but they were afraid of chatter.

They’d go to the drive in, they’d meet up on the concessions roof and “watch” the movie from there. It’s surprisingly easy access and also weirdly private. They’d hangout on weekends. Sometimes weeknights when Cynthia’s dad gets stuck at the shop and Lydia’s parents think they have homework or rehearsing to do.

Getting alone time, weirdly, was not the problem.

It was easy being around Lydia. She laughed at her jokes, when she didn’t laugh she’s roll her eyes and Cynthia would bug her until she finally gave in and laughed at the dumb joke. Lydia would help Cynthia with her english homework, Cynthia would run lines with Lydia.

They would tell stories, secrets. Tell each other about their pasts. One night at the drive in, the movie playing was one Cynthia’s mom had liked. Lydia saw she had been acting weird about it, and to both their surprise Cynthia had opened up about it. Cynthia really hates vulnerability, but with Lydia, it wasn’t so scary.

So simply being with each other, also not the problem.

Eventually, all that other stuff ends up the same way. If Lydia is doing her homework, she’s not giving Cynthia attention. So, Cynthia will, very maturely, steal something from Lydia. Which, she will not return until she receives a kiss. And who’s Lydia to say no, she needs her pencils after all.

Rehearsing is always easier when fully committed as they both know, so they’re sure not to skip over any kisses. And sometimes they forget to go back to the play. Most of the time.

Cynthia could kiss Lydia forever, whenever. She’s got her trapped under a spell and she doesn’t even care. She’s a lovesick puppy and that’s fine by her.

So kissing, in itself, is not the problem.

No, the problem is that kissing is so good, and it has recently become… intense. Their contact becoming closer, their hands wandering further, and their layers getting less and less. And it’s all so good.

But Cynthia always stops.

She doesn’t want to. She really, really doesn’t want to. But eventually the intensity becomes overwhelming and she just, full stops. She gets lost after some point and doesn’t want to mess anything up. So Lydia goes home, and Cynthia lays in her bed kicking herself.

Lydia is always nice about it, but Cynthia can’t help but feel like she’s disappointing her. If she’s honest, she’s disappointing herself.

She doesn’t want to mess it up. It’s not like they give much sex ed about straight relationships, and there’s definitely nothing to help out a gay virgin. At least straight people have something to work with to figure it all out. For her, it felt hopeless.

But she had to do something, she was starting to go a little crazy. So, she called the only person she could think of.

***

“I want to have sex.”

“Jesus, Cynthia, my ears.” Gil cringed from behind the wheel of his car. Cynthia had called him up out of nowhere and said it was urgent. So, he got there as quick as he could. However, those were not the first words he wanted to hear when she hopped into the passenger seat.

“No, Gil, seriously, I need your help.”

“I’m not having sex with you Cynthia.”

“Ew, gross! Not with you, dumbass.” Cynthia hit him in the arm. “With Lydia. Obviously.”

“Okay? Then do it I don’t know what you want from me.” Gil held his arm where she had punched him and he watched her expression soften.

“It’s not that easy.” She said as she sat back in the seat and crossed her arms.

“What do you mean?” He shifted to face her more. She just looked out the windows for a second.

“You know what, this was stupid. I’m sorry—” She opened the door and started to leave but Gil pulled her back inside.

“Hey, kid, look I’m sorry, ok? What’s up, you can talk to me.”

Cynthia looked at him and sighed. She could tell her face was starting to get red but she hoped he would assume it’s from the heat.

“Things with Lydia have been good, great even. It’s just… Things have been starting to feel more… Intense. And it’s a good intense, don’t get me wrong,” They both chuckled. “But I feel like we’re wanting to go further but I just don’t know… how.”

Gil was looking at her and any awkwardness he was feeling he was hiding very well, which Cynthia appreciated because she knew she was not doing so herself.

“Cynth, I wanna help you, I do, but it’s different for you.”

“I know!” She covered her face with her hands. “I know that. And I know I tease but you know more about handling women than I do. You’re my best bet right now.”

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought it over. “Okay. How far have you gotten.”

Cynthia glanced at him and then shy’d back to the window. “Second.” She said, trying to suppress a smile. Gil chuckled and ruffled her hair.

“Not bad kid, not bad.”

She shooed him off of her and started fixing her bangs. “Yeah yeah, but what do we do after?”

“Well, you’ve got to keep it casual. You can’t put too much expectation into it or else it’s gonna fall flat. And you’ve got to make sure she’s okay with everything going forward. Hey,” He looked Cynthia in the eyes. “I’m serious about that. You make sure you’re both comfortable and if not you stop. You understand?” He pointed at her, she nodded. “Out loud.”

“I understand.”

“Okay. From there, you might not like this answer but, you’ve really just got to feel it out.” Cynthia groaned. “I know, but your body will know what it wants, and if you’re talking to each other, you’ll know what she wants.”

Cynthia sat with that idea for a minute. She knew she wanted more. She could imagine what that might entail, but there were so many what if’s, so many unknowns. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to risk it.

“What if I do it wrong.” She says quietly.

“I’m not gonna lie to you kid, you might.” He sighs. “You’ll probably be a little nervous, it will more likely than not be awkward,”

“You’re not building my confidence.”

“But. You guys have been together for long enough now, all of that is part of the magic. You mess up and then you guys laugh it off and try again. And, you can change your mind and stop at any point. It feels like a big deal, and I’m not saying it’s not, but don’t stress about it.”

Cynthia breathed out a laugh. “Thanks Gilliam.” She punched him in the arm again, playful this time.

“Don’t sweat it. It’s what guys do.”

She smiled at that. “Any other tips and tricks?”

Gil pondered for a moment. “A little teasing never hurts.” He says looking out at the road, a smirk forming. Cynthia nodded, trying to hide the awkwardness she’s feeling. He continued, “And you know… foreplay is—“

“Ew, gross, never mind don’t tell me I don’t wanna know.” She shut down and refused to look at him.

“I would say use protection but I don’t really know how you’d,”

“Ugh, Gil I said gross.” Cynthia shuddered as she opened the car door and got out.

“You’re welcome!” Gil shouted as she left, chuckling to himself.

***

Cynthia’s dad is working late. She knows he won’t be home for a while. So, she invites Lydia over. Currently, they’re both in her room. This is cool. Cool cool cool.

“So, what are your plans for the—“ Lydia starts but is quickly cut off my Cynthia practically pouncing on her and starting a passionate kiss. They eventually break apart and Lydia mutters quickly, “I can get on board with this.” They both chuckle and return back to each other.

It was heated and a little sloppy and desperate and fun, god was it fun. Cynthia could feel all her thoughts and anxieties welling in her head but she suppressed them as far as she could and just kept kissing and kissing and kissing.

She eventually found the courage to move her kisses from Lydia’s lips down to her jaw, then her neck, then her collarbone.

“Cynthia?” She heard Lydia’s voice but it sounded far away. “Hey, Cynth,” She felt Lydia’s hands gently pulling her face back to eye level.

“Why’d you stop? Did I do something wrong?” Cynthia asked.

“No, no not at all you were… It was very nice.” She giggled. “I just, wanted to check on you.” She said it calmly. A glint in her eye telling Cynthia she knows something.

“Yeah, no yeah I’m good I’m ready to go if you are.” She leaned in for another kiss but Lydia pulled back.

“Cyn.” She stroked her cheekbone with her thumb. “Talk to me.”

Cynthia looked at her girlfriend and sighed as she rolled off to the side of her and sat criss-crossed on her bed.

“Things have been going so good. I really really like being with you in ways I can’t even explain with words. And I really like kissing you. Like, so much.” Lydia smiled at that. “I just, when things start to get heated… I don’t know I panic. It’s not that I don’t want to do other things with you obviously, it’s just… scary.” Cynthia’s voice was small, she kept her gaze focused on the piece of her comforter she was picking at.

She watched as Lydia’s hand took her fidgety one and looked up to meet her eyes. “It’s scary for me too.” She said.

“It is?” Cynthia breathed.

“Yes! It’s scary to be intimate like that, and I’ve never done it before with anyone, so I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

“Oh my god.” Cynthia let out a sigh and rested her head on Lydia’s shoulder as the other girl laughed. “I was so worried I’d mess something up and you’d think I was terrible at sex and break up with me.”

“I would never.” Lydia chuckled. Cynthia giggled along side her.

They sat like that for a moment. Letting the comfortable silence wash over them as Cynthia embraced the comfort of the crook of Lydia’s neck. It was nice. She liked this.

“Hey,” Lydia broke their silence and turned her head to Cynthia, using her finger to gently guide her face up from her shoulder. “Let’s take it slow, alright? We’re not in a rush. Whatever happens, happens. Okay?”

Cynthia nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

They both smiled into another kiss. This one soft and tender. A signature to the deal they’ve just made. Sweet.

Lydia pulled away first, leaving Cynthia chasing after her. “Why don’t we watch TV.” Lydia whispered, scanning Cynthia’s face before getting up from the bed and heading to the living room. Cynthia watched in awe after her girlfriend as she walked away. Turns out Gil was right, a little teasing didn’t hurt.

———

a/n: Gil and Cynthia friendship is actually so important to me they are so siblings. Our sweet thesbians don’t know a thing about sex but I’m sure they figure it out one day, not today though. They do make out practically the entire time they’re watching tv though. Cynthia does stop to sing along to the Ipana commercial and Lydia calls her dumb but let’s her finish.

ps if you read all the way through this you should check out this edit i made of them bc i really like it and would like if it got some more love that’s all thank you for reading <3

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galos-writing · 7 months

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hey, y'all, uh sorry for my absence but i was so damn busy with uni im sorry T_T i had completed a request i received a long time ago but i accidentally deleted the message, fortunately i copied n pasted the request above the ff itself, so for whoever asked it to me, im so sorryyy and i hope the ff arrives to you Q-Q enjoyyy

Request: Hi! May I ask for Arthur Fleck x gn (*gender neutral) reader where the reader has green eyes and how would he react? Thank you!

You were standing right in front of a vast apartment block completely dumbfounded, you couldn’t believe such a majestic building could erect in a trashcan of a city like Gotham. Indeed, the poor lifestyle was mirrored by the appearance of what would become your new home: broken windows, a neglected shared yard full of trash bags, roaches and sewer rats, and the paint outside grayed or even consumed in some spots.

You made a face at the view, but it was all you could afford at the moment: you would have surely moved as soon as you would have found a job with a good salary. However, the luggage you were holding reminded you that you weren’t living somewhere better than this. You could almost dare to say your new home would be a mansion if compared to your parents’ house; even the rudest flatmate would be nicer than the ones who were supposed to love and support you no matter what, but that instead kicked you out, not even letting you collect all of your stuff. ‘Just your clothes’, they said, ‘and then get the fuck out.’.

Their words were carved in your memory and will probably be forever, you took a deep breath to hold back tears.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the taxi driver behind you, until he honked, startling you. You turned to him, he was visibly pissed, angrily smoking his cigarette butt and then throwing it at your feet, not even putting it out.

“Ya deaf, pal?! I fuckin’ said it’s 50 bucks! Ya gon’ pay me or not?”, he shouted at you, sticking his hand full of rings out towards you, expecting his money on his callous palm. You turned pale at how angry he was and quickly pulled out your wallet to give him his money.

Your anxiety turned into full panic when you saw your wallet was completely empty. Fuck. You were sure your brat of a little brother stole all your money, oh how you wish you were still at your home to strangle him.

“So?”, the taxi driver insisted, pressing on the accelerator to increase the price according to the taximeter. His judgmental beady eyes were scanning you while you started emptying your backpack, in a desperate attempt of finding a single cent in the bottom of it. Nothing, just old stuff, some comic book and clothes. You let out a defeated sigh that made him visibly angrier, and your lips quivered as you opened your mouth to speak the only words he was hoping not to hear.

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t…”

You got cut by a bony and shaky hand extending next to you, handing some banknotes at the taxi driver, who smirked and snatched them from it.

“H…Here…”, a thin male voice shyly stuttered before the money had been literally ripped off his hand. The driver filled his thumb with his gross saliva to start counting the bills, and when he was over he just left in a hurry, not saying a word.

You were at a loss for words due to everything that happened so quickly, but you managed to snap out of your trance and looked at the guy who just saved you from an unpleasant situation.

You were stunned when you saw the appearance of your saviour: a short and slender man who was still standing next to you, his arm was still extended and his eyes were wide open, staring off into space. He seemed to be in his mid-forties but you weren’t sure.

He flinched when you touched his shoulder, and slowly turned his head towards you. His eyes looked so sweet, but they were now so wide, still in shock at what just happened.

“Hey…”, you softly called him, trying to calm him down by awkwardly stroking his shoulder. “A-Are you okay? I’m so sorry you had to get through this, really… I’m willing to give you back your money, for sure, sir.”, you kept telling him, your tone was soft to sooth him, and you sketched an embarrassed smile when he looked at you. He first babbled some letters, as if he was starting the engine of his brain to reconnect and formulate a correct sentence, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His gaze soon flustered you, making you look away.

“Well, then… It's been a true pleasure to meet you. Thank you again, sir.”, you politely saluted, grabbing your bags and walking to the entrance of the condo where the landlord was waiting for you.

As weeks passed by, some threatening letters from your father didn’t manage to break the new cocoon of comfort you built up all for yourself. You were so proud of your job of house decorating that you couldn’t resist but invite some friends over. What an idiot you felt by seeing your fridge was empty, how were you supposed to have guests over with no food in the house?

You found yourself forced to go emergency grocery shopping the day before their arrival. As you were walking to the grocery store, you had the crippling feeling of being observed, but the thing didn’t scare you too much: lots of people in Gotham were weirdos, or just envious bored fellas who enjoyed watching others to judge them without a reason. When you arrived at the cashier to pay for your stuff, your eyes met a familiar face: the nice nervous man who paid for your taxi! You instinctively smiled and poked his shoulder to catch his attention. When he turned around towards you, his cheeks turned a deep red as you joyfully waved at him.

“We haven’t talked much since you helped me that day, huh?”, you giggled, holding your bag of groceries as you were walking out of the store, followed by Arthur. He didn’t respond, he was too flustered to speak. You turned to him, tilting your head, your face showed concern. For a moment, you decided to ignore your worry and resumed smiling, extending your hand at him.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way. (Y/N) (L/N). We didn’t manage to introduce each other. It’s a pleasure to know you. We do live in the same condo, right?”, you happily asked, patiently waiting for the man to shake your hand. But he didn’t.

“I-I’m Arthur, Arthur Fleck… nice to know you too…”, he shyly murmured after a few seconds, trying to avoid eye contact. You worriedly looked at him again.

“Hey… are you okay? Did… did I say something that offended you?”, you asked, trying to approach him, but he stepped back.

“I have something to confess to you. I, uhm… I followed you… like, stalked you for a while. It’s better you immediately know, I don’t want you to find it out by yourself and get even more scared…”, he admitted, making your face turn pale; that explained your feeling of being observed all the time.

“... why?”, you just asked, feeling numb. You were confused, that man seemed so kind, silent and polite during condo reunions, you couldn’t believe someone like him could do something like that. But you appreciated his honesty, despite the fact you were definitely creeped out by him.

“I… just wanted to make sure you were real. And, y’know, not just some… some kind of delusion.”, he bluntly answered, as his face turned even redder. “It’s just that…”, he kept saying, “ … you quite… caught my attention, not gonna lie. You feel like a fresh breeze in this trash-stuffed pit.”.

His words hit you like a hammer, those were the first kind words someone outside your friends group had told you in weeks. Your eyes filled in tears, but you firstly refused to let them out, giggling.

“I… I don’t know what to say… Just… Thank you so much, Arthur. I’m glad you’re my neighbor. You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met in a long time.”, you told him, touching his shoulder. Your words made him blush even more, but this time a relaxed and genuinely joyful smile appeared on his thin and scarred lips.

“Why did you come to live here, though…? You’re so pure and joyful, your kindness doesn’t belong here…”, he asked, blushing a bit. His question upset you more than you wanted to admit.

“... my parents kicked me out because I refused to work for their shitty business. I wanted to escape that narcissistic and toxic environment to start all over again. And for now living here is all I can afford.”, you gloomingly explained.

He got silent, nodding a bit. His silence made your anxiety grow more than when you announced to your father you had no intention to work for his company.

Arthur noticed you were observing him, and stopped nodding. “ …what?”, he asked.

“What?? Aren’t you gonna say nothing?!”, you asked back, in full panic.

“What do you expect me to say? (Y/N), if there’s something I learned by living in this world is that insecure people will insult everything outside their range of comprehension. But believe me, it’s not worth your tears until you’re happy. That’s life.”, he just said, taken by a moment of confidence, he felt oddly comfortable by speaking so openly to you, for once he didn’t feel unfitting or out of line, he felt heard and he knew his words could be helpful to someone he cared for that was struggling.

“And, in all honesty, I wouldn’t be taken by surprise by your family situation, yet… by, uh…”, he kept going, struggling a bit to say what he was thinking of, but just by looking at you, he suddenly found the courage. He was feeling good by spilling all that out right now, and wanted that wellness to keep going.

“Yet by the fact yours are the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen.”, he suddenly blurted out, making you heavily blush. You looked at him, you could see his wave of confidence disappear to make him blush as well, so much he had to pull on the collar of his shirt.

After some awkward second of silence, you smiled. “Do you mind if we… get back home together?”, you asked. Your proposition took him by surprise this time, making him slowly nod. The two of you walked back to the condo, in complete silence, drowning in fluster, but so happy you had met each other at that moment.

Tags: @darknessisafriend @werewolf-and-go-wild @indieblair @pursuit-of-comedy @ajokeformur-ray @fly-like-a-phoenix @five-miles-over @hebimoonlightwrites @jokerflecker @callmejokerr

#joaquinphoenix #joaquin phoenix #jp #imagine #scenario #joker x reader #joker x you #joker 2019 #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x you

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theherdofturtles · 28 days

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Hi @hwsevents I'm late I learned about mythtalia march today weee but ah well I merged Tannhäuser and Hetalia. Hopefully the Pope's staff blooms flowers and I get forgiven unlike Tannhäuser.

For slight background, Tannhäuser is an old Germanic myth about Venusberg. In the mythology, all the old pagan gods have retreated into a subterranean world when Christianity overpowered and replaced them. A man, referred to as Tannhäuser, is tasked with guarding the entrance to the subterranean world to ensure the pagan gods do not return to the land. In some versions of the legend, Tannhäuser fails his task and is seduced by the goddess Venus and pulled into the subterranean world (sometimes his memories are fogged and he forgets the world above, less commonly this doesn't happen and he's just fully okay with going to Venusberg). One day, Tannhäuser successfully makes an escape and goes to Rome to ask the pope for forgiveness which in any version never goes well.

Anyway, here's my poke of fun at the beginning of Wagner's version of Tannhäuser:

The mist sunk into the ground around the quiet grotto… all was peaceful. If you considered bathing naiads, sirens flopping around on the grotto edges, a group of dancing nymphs and centaurs very peaceful. Honestly Arthur didn't know why or how he'd fallen asleep in this person's lap. Especially with this whole chaos around him.

Then, suddenly, Arthur snapped upward. You know he'd just had the most awful dream where he was… somewhere… a whole lot different than this place. Yeah. This place made him feel super misplaced. He couldn't quite recall why the dream made him so sad but it made his whole being shudder and he thanked the Lord that the dream was over.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Arthur jumped. "Wha-"

The hand pulled him backwards, back into their lap, and then he heard the person speak… "Tell me, beloved, what's wrong?"

Oh… Francis? What the hell was Francis doing here— oh! Yes, he recalled. Francis was the… uh… god of love? Yeah, something like that. Arthur nodded to himself in confirmation. It made sense that Francis was Venus.

"I had this terrible dream," he said.

"Tell me about it?"

"Sure. I remembered the sound of church bells… voices, of people I think I once loved. Uh… how long have I been here?"

Francis suddenly looked nervous. "Don't worry about that."

"No, I could swear I'm not supposed to be here. It's a feeling that goes three meta layers deep. What happened? Wait a second… AHA!"

Arthur whirled around and cracked Francis's nose with his fist.

The satisfying way Francis’s eyes widened a half-second before contact, and the pop of his fist against his face, it was the most cathartic thing on earth.

Arthur shook his hand off as if to shake Francis's icky contact from it.

Francis flinched backwards from shock while clutching his nose. "My love," Francis whined, "what was that for!"

"Somehow I forgot you were a bitch."

Francis's affronted expression said he’d never expected Arthur to disrespect him despite all past history and experience Francis should have down by now. Wait… what past history? Arthur was just supposed to be the guard of Venusberg, he'd never had a past history with the god of love.

"How dare you!" Francis gasped, "how dare you insult all the sweet wonder my love devises for you! I made you immortal like me! In the mortal realm everything sucked for you, but here you can delight in my pleasure forever~"

"Gross…" Arthur scrunched up his nose.

"So just forget everything again about the world above the subterranean realm which the old gods have been banished too according to germanic folk mythology, my love, and sing about how beautiful and great and perfect I am," Francis wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'd rather marry a pig. By the way, wasn't I supposed to be guarding the entrance of this place to make sure you didn't escape?"

"Well, yes, but don't you recall in WWV: 70, Overture, when you're off-stage, the music is supposed to recall the Tannhauser folk ballad to the audience's mind so they'll know that I seduced you by the time the Opera has begun?"

Suddenly Arthur remembered who he was and why he felt so misplaced.

"Damnit. I'm stuck in a Wagner opera with you of all people. Does that mean Italy is the pope?"

#mythtalia march #aph england #richard wagner #tannhäuser #aph france #fruk #?#crack fic #germanic mythology #germanic paganism

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spocks-evil-godmother · 1 year

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Rest in peace to me because I am vague blogging so forgive me everyone but sometimes I am so very obsessed with people's opinions about why Elementary is Bad in the year of our lord 2023.

The argument was that Elementary was bad as an adaptation for making it a procedural crime drama and for making Sherlock an addict, both of which "miss the point" of the ACD canon. (This person was very obviously a big Johnlock person as well which wouldn't matter except for the particular hill they decided to defend.) I can't disagree that procedural crime dramas are a function of modernity, and are certainly not the "point" of the Holmes canon. If you dislike procedurals on principle then I think that's that and there you have it—but considering that procedurals are a very common way to do mystery-writing now, and considering that to my knowledge there has never been a Holmes & Watson procedural before, I do think that it makes sense for a modern adaptation. Modern Holmes, modern storytelling convention, matchy matchy. But no, not the point and perhaps a valid complaint.

But disliking Sherlock as an addict is a VERY FUNNY ISSUE TO TAKE WHEN YOU ARE PUTTING BBC SHERLOCK ON A PEDESTAL. My number one complaint about season four of Sherlock (and I am being dead serious) was the relationship they presented between John, Sherlock, and drug use. Because the "point," I think, was that Sherlock Holmes is willing to escalate conflict, lie to his partner, and put his own life in jeopardy for the sake of the mystery, damn the consequences (and, for that matter, he trusts that his partner will accept being abused and still help him no matter what). And I get that ACD!Holmes would do anything for the mystery and he didn't always treat Watson well in the canon but I think if the "point" were that these two characters are locked in an immutably abusive and codependent relationship then these characters would not having the staying power that they do. I won't say that the episode was bad writing per se, but I felt like that was the nail in the coffin for BBC Sherlock as an adaptation for me. It was like, yes sir, we've always given Sherlock drugs to use recreationally as in canon, and when he starts to use them in unhealthy ways and they negatively impact his relationships, it doesn't need to be addressed to the audience as an issue because actually Sherlock Holmes is Too Smart to have a drug problem, he was tricking you the whole time, and you were stupid for worrying.

Which like. Okay. I don't think that's the point, and if it is, I don't want it. No thanks.

Compare with Elementary. And not saying it's perfect. Not saying anyone has to like it. But we are thinking about Sherlock Holmes in a modern setting. And the fact of the matter is, when ACD wrote Sherlock Holmes, we did not have the same amount of information on substance use or addiction that we do today. This isn't to say that people can't use substances recreationally and safely, whether they live in the late 1800s or in the modern era. But in ACD's time, the common understanding of chemical dependence was often attributed to moral failing rather than any other contributing factor. There was no such thing as chemical dependence. There were people strong enough to make good choices and people who weren't. And that's not to say they didn't notice, say, genetic predispositions. That tied into much of eugenicist thought at the time. "Ah, yes, the way to fix society is to get rid of those gross people who keep generating morally weak children. Then society will be great!" The way people thought about drug use had very little to do with medicine and a lot to do with self-reinforcing prejudices against class or race. The Sherlock Holmes written by Arthur Conan Doyle did not have an addiction, not because he was just amazing at maintaining a healthy and recreational relationship with his substances, but because deep down he's Too Good For That. Back then Good People didn't have addictions. He had vices, perhaps, or indulgences, or experiments. But Holmes couldn't have a problem with substance use because he was above having a problem with substance use.

So we are left with Holmes in the modern era. Like before, Holmes uses drugs recreationally. He enjoys them. They, as before, help him think and help him stay close to the mysteries he solves. But something else has changed. Now we know that there is no such thing as being Too Smart or Too Good to have an addiction. And so our modern Holmes has to contend with the fact that yes, he's not Too Smart to develop a dependency, he's not Too Smart to relapse, and he is not Too Smart to suffer the same kind of struggle that so many ordinary people have also suffered. It's very humbling. It is indeed painful for him to accept Joan as a sober companion in his life. It's something impossible to escape. And it is really, really fruitful as a character trait. The conversation he has with Joan in the season 3 episode "The Eternity Injection" still sticks with me:

Sherlock: If you must know, Watson, I've been feeling a little bit down of late. It's the process of maintaining my sobriety. It's repetitive. And it's relentless. And above all, it's tedious. When I left rehab, I... I accepted your influence, I committed to my recovery. And now, two years in, I find myself asking, "'is this it?"' My sobriety is simply a grind. It's just this leaky faucet that requires constant maintenance, and in return offers only not to drip.

Joan: You have your work, you have me. You're alive.

Sherlock: I've told myself that many times. So many times, it has become unmoored from all meaning. Odd. I used to imagine that a relapse would be the climax to some grand drama. Now I think that if I were to use drugs again, it would in fact be an anticlimax. It would be a surrender to the incessant drip, drip, drip of existence.

I love this scene. I love this conversation. And I love it as an adaptation because this is not a conclusion or moral that Arthur Conan Doyle could have written in his own time. This scene captures some of the knowledge we have now, and likely some of the hurts and harms of our era as well. However, it says something about these two famous characters: that Sherlock, whose mind aches for mysteries, is equally if not more challenged by the practical matter of living his life, and that Joan is with him in it. It's not dramatic. It's just a conversation in their living room.

I think that's sufficient.

Sherlock is a detective and an addict in Elementary. His addiction changes the way he thinks and acts forever. And in some regards, that makes him worse. And in other regards, that makes him the best he's ever been. No, Arthur Conan Doyle did not write a story about an addict. Elementary did. And the point is that he solved mysteries and helped people, the point was that he was an incredible detective, and the point was that he was human, only human.

rrrrrrr don't say weird things about my show kthxbai

#elementary #vent #tw substance abuse #substance abuse mention #tw eugenics #tw substance use #substance use #long post #mitch pitch #it is also perhaps relevant and something many people may not realize #but elementary also suggests that sherlock holmes is an addict specifically BECAUSE he lives in the 21st century #holmes speculates to himself that had he lived in the 1800s he may not have become an addict #which i have always found interesting

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