readingcoco

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brothers :(

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characters cleaning blood off their partner's face is just PEAK romance actually. bonus points if it's someone else's blood

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I feel like a child on Christmas Eve waiting for the final chapter of Redbird to be released. I already know I'm going to be inconsolable once I read it because I'm already crying looking at these beautiful sketches. Please please please if you haven't read it yet, treat yourself to one of the most romantic, heart wrenching and masterfully written fics in the fandom (and beyond). And get prepared for me to gush about it non stop once it's out! I'm vibrating with excitement!

🌵

trinkets and journal scraps from redbird and acts. side effects of writer's block

credit to @shootybangbang for the idea and for the sketch of the buttons from acts 🥹i love them and their delicate highlights thank you

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Laura Knight - Make-up (Dressing Room), 1959

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Dame Laura Knight (1877-1970), Marsh Mallows, oil on canvas

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Laura Knight

Seemingly-effortless pencil sketch of her bare-footed Cornwall neighbour & friend Ella Naper, eating an apple as she looks back at us from her perch on a tree in a local orchard (1916).

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Orthur 👁️👁️

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Penguin Classics was so insane for this cover. Didn't know they had it in them

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the insane fact is johns taller than arthur

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local woman 5 min away from nervous breakdown

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💔

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playing a game as the main character that you are also attracted to is kind of funny when you think about it.

I love him. I AM him. I see the world through his eyes but also through the perception I have of his character. I like to watch him ride horses and lean on the bar in a saloon. I let my own moral compass decide his actions.

something something self love through the lens of a fictional person. idk if my thoughts on this are fully coherent yet, but I think I'm onto something.

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Arthur x Charles x Reader. Yes please! Very excited to see where you take this! I'm already hot under the collar 🫦

WIP Thursday

Tagged a long time ago by the lovelies @thesingularityseries @nightbloodbix @theelderhazelnut @cloudofbutterflies92 @voidika 🤩 and more recently by my dears @aceghosts and @simplegenius042 😘

I share with you the first paragraphs of The song of the Wolf, a gift that I'm finishing for @strafethesesinners following her request. I'm three quarters of the way through this story, with over 6000 words already on the counter. I sincerely hope you like it.

If you are interested in reading the full story, please let me know 😊 I specify that this story will be about a relationship between a woman and two men, including a homosexual relationship. And I also specify that due to smut which will be very present, this story will be prohibited for minors 🔞

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The Grizzlies East was one of the most magnificent areas Eleanor had seen since she first set foot on American soil a few months ago. An immense wild and remote territory made up of immense mountains with pearl gray rocks, steep passes difficult to cross and vast forests preserved from the mark of Man. Only a few trappers dreaming of a bygone era had settled here, in old log cabins. The Dakota River had its source here and its pure water, from the eternal snows, meandered through the Heartlands to Flat Iron Lake, beyond the horizon, sculpting the landscape with its impetuous current. In the distance, if the weather was clear, you could see the immense snow-capped peaks of the Grizzlies West.

Arriving here to follow Arthur and Charles hunting, Eleanor could say she had fallen in love with this place. And she was happy to be able to spend a few days here, far from the camp and its incessant buzz. Here, Arthur, Charles and her could be themselves, live their relationship without fear of being surprised by anyone, or of being judged for their threesome love. All people would see would be a woman with two men. A whore indulging in vice. And even worse, two men together, in a puritanical society totally rejecting the fact that two people of the same sex can love each other. If they were caught, if they were denounced, Arthur and Charles would be dragged through the mud before being hanged from a tree. And their corpses would be thrown to the dogs.

The thought always made Eleanor's stomach turn. She was ready to live their love in secret until the end of her days if necessary, if it allowed her to protect the two men she loved. Nothing was more important than them to her.

"Don't forget to use the wind as an ally. This is that will carry your arrow," Charles whispered in her ear, while Eleanor raised the bow to take aim at the doe which was several dozen meters from them.

Charles stood behind her and guided her into the correct position. Eleanor's skin shivered and she relished the feeling of his large hands covering hers as he adjusted the aiming angle. She loved his hands. Big, rough, firm, shy, affectionate… There were so many words racing through her mind to describe them. Dangerous, tender, gentle... It was impossible to sum up Charles and his hands in a single word.

Suddenly feeling licentious about their equivocal position, her buttocks gently came to meet his hips, fitting perfectly against his body, shaped by their many embraces. She felt Charles' lips stretch into a smile against her ear.

"What are you doing ?"

"Nothing," she replied with feigned innocence.

"You changed your position. You bent slightly. Straighten up."

Eleanor obeyed, but before standing up straight, she took care to undulate her buttocks against Charles's budding erection. His body tensed and Eleanor heard him take a deep breath against her ear. It was so easy to arouse his desire that she made a game of it every time they had the chance to be alone. Sometimes he would get overwhelmed and be so helpless to fight that they would make love on the ground or against a tree, tangled in their clothes.

"We're here to hunt. Mr Pearson is counting on us."

"But that's what I do."

She neglected to specify that she was hunting an animal more imposing than the deer. Charles tilted his head slightly to look at her, an eyebrow raised in a skeptical expression.

"Did you at least remember what I told you ?"

Eleanor glanced at him, the corner of her mouth turned up in a mischievous pout.

"A woman can do two things at the same time, Mr Smith."

Charles' hands slipped from hers to rest on her hips, which he brought a little closer to his own to make her fully feel the strength of his desire.

"If we weren't hunting," he began in a hoarse and tense voice.

"But we're hunting," Eleanor quickly interrupted, giving him a brief look before returning her attention to the doe in front of them.

"I thought you could do two things at the same time."

"I thought I had to stay still to be able to shoot a bow," she replied, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

Charles let out a deep sigh of frustration. His erection was now hard against her buttocks. Eleanor felt his fingers gently scratching the fabric of her skirt, as if he were hesitant to lift it up to lose himself in her moist heat. Then finally he gave up, certainly caught up in the fact that they had promised Mr Pearson to bring back some catches to feed the camp.

"Get back into position. Draw your bow. And don’t forget : a clean and precise shot."

Eleanor obeyed him, but kept her desire to heighten Charles's senses in the back of her mind. He wouldn't escape her. Just like the doe in front of them.

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @la-grosse-patate @photo1030 @readingcoco @g0dspeeed @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano @alexxmason @trench-rot @omen-speaker @simonxriley @marivenah @redwritr @zanazirafanfic @thewanderer-000 @titiagls @lambda-serpentis @grimmylover7 @shallow-gravy @onehornedbeast @chloekistune @wrathfulrook @skoll-sun-eater @mutantthedark @alypink @purplehairsecretlair @megraen @sergeiravenov @carlosoliveiraa @12timetraveler and you if you want to share something 🤗

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Yarrow and Feverfew

Art trade with the incredible @liscepu, I'm so grateful for the chance! Thank you for fueling my love for the game again <3

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Sawmill by a Waterfall Themistolles von Eckenbrecher - 1886

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Madame Roger-Joudain, 1883. John Singer Sargent. Pencil and watercolor on paper.

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Top 5 John Singer Sargent sketches?

GOD YES.