#I think that’s the tag if not then oops

[critterishere]

shout out to that au in my head where these two experience manmade horrors beyond their comprehension together 🗣

original image down here🏃

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

Hello!!! Thanks so much for the tags @bonheur-cafe & @heartstringsduet 💕

Sharing a bit more from the This Infinite Love continuation ❤️ Jacuzzi addition 🤭

Laughter bubbles in his chest at the unhinged noise TK makes when he [censored for explicit sexual content], just the way he likes. It was one of the first things he learned about his future husband, on a late humid night in a dusty alley back behind a funky old honky tonk.

“I want you inside me later,” Carlos whispers.

“Well, if you want that you’re gonna have to stop touching… oh! Touching me like this,” TK whines, voice hitching at the end of his sentence when Carlos’s thumb flicks over the tip of his [🍆].

“You want me to stop?” Carlos teases.

“N-no I just,” he groans. “You’re too fucking good at that. You make me feel too good.”

“I make you feel too good?” Carlos huffs a low laugh. “Well, sorry about that. I know we’re in our thirties now, babe, but I think you’ve got more than one round in you tonight.”

“Depends on how much salmon I eat,” TK responds flatly.

“I’ll order you a whole platter,” he purrs. He nips at TK’s ear and speeds up the movement of his hand, laughing when TK kicks his foot in pleasure and causes water to splash up over the side of the tub. “Oops.”

Tagging @carlos-in-glasses @henrygrass @annoyingcloudearthquake @hereghostslive @laelipoo @whatsintheboxmh @carlossreaders @paperstorm @futures-tense @chicgeekgirl89 @ladytessa74 @everlastingday @thisbuildinghasfeelings @iboatedhere @alrightbuckaroo @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter @literateowl @nisbanisba @orchidscript @the-126-family @firstprince-history-huh @eclectic-sassycoweyes @emsprovisions @captain-gillian @welcometololaland @basilsunrise @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @sapphic--kiwi @herefortarlos @filet-o-feelings @tinyluminaryzombie @kiwichaeng @guardian-angle22 @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @never-blooms @decafdino @certifiedflower @irispurpurea @futures-tense and OPEN TAG 🏷️

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: Arcane

Pairings: Jayce/Viktor

Tags: mpreg, mention of post-birth pain

I now have two prompt fills that are in progress but not finished (oops). So instead take a “this popped into my head basically fully formed so I had to write it” things – Mel visiting at the hospital after Jayce and Viktor have their first child.

This is a bit more based on modern medical conventions than what I think Arcane would truly be like but, again, not really a thought out thing just words that flowed too easily. Thus it’s really abrupt ending as well. Easy flow stopped then.

---------------

There’s a knock at the door of the hospital room and Viktor is a little surprised to see Councillor Medarda instead of another doctor come to have a final prod at him before they send him home.

“I thought I would come visit. If you feel up to it that is,” she says. Only coming in when he gestures that she can. A wrapped box carried in her hands like an offering. “Where’s Jayce?”

“Currently trying to bully the doctors into prescribing stronger painkillers to go home with.” Mel’s face twists in question at Viktor’s explanation. “We are, ah, not well designed for childbirth.”

“My mother gave birth to me on a battlefield,” Mel says. Quietly enough that Viktor does not know if he was actually aimed at him or not.

“I suppose we are not all your mother then.” The boredom of bedrest the closest to a battle Viktor fought in his pregnancy.

“No, of course,” Mel says with a small shake of her head. She takes the seat next to the bed with her usual grace. The box settled neatly in her lap. Viktor sure he looks a mess next to her, the bags under his eyes deep from sleep constantly disturbed by doctors or his and Jayce’s son and the hospital gown rumpled and baggy on him.

“I would offer you something to eat but I would not recommend the food here,” Viktor says more out of politeness than actually caring about being a good host.

“I will take your word at it,” Mel says, looking around the room at all the flowers and gifts that they had taken to piling along the walls to deal with once they get home and figure out a routine with a newborn. “Have you had many visitors?”

“No.” Ximena had visited a few times, bringing things from their apartment so Jayce wouldn’t have to leave to get them. Sky as well, with updates on their ongoing experiments and things for the both of them so they can continue working as best they can from a hospital room. Councillor Kiramman and her daughter had visited once, Caitlyn looking terrified when she was offered the baby to hold. That was it. “People keep sending Jayce gifts.”

“I’m sure they are for you as well,” Mel says as she looks over them.

“Yes. That is why they all have only his name on them.” Viktor had never been naïve about how people saw him, or rather didn’t see him, next to Jayce. But he will admit to some annoying in the situation on account of how he was the one bedbound from having their child yet Jayce the one getting all the gifts.

Mel’s lips purse.

“Well, I suppose this one can be for you then,” she says, handing the neatly wrapped box onto his lap.

“What?”

“That is what the rule is, isn’t it ­­– I bring you a present and you let me see the baby?” Mel asks, her tone light. “Only if you are comfortable with it of course.”

“I- ah- yes. I am. Just-“ Naph is in the bassinette at the other side of the room and getting out of bed still rather painful and difficult to do. Not something he wants to attempt with an audience.

Jayce thankfully returns before Viktor has to decide with Mel getting Naph herself.

“Jayce,” Viktor says before his partner can get too into detail about how the doctor was going to write a script for some decent pain relief. A nod to Mel thankfully distracting him from that train of thought. “Can you bring Naph over.”

“Of course.”

“I see he’s taking good care of you,” Mel says as Jayce goes to get their son and bring him over.

“I cannot complain.” Viktor is sure the doctors would be glad to see them off if only so Jayce could not continue looming over their shoulders as if double-checking their work whenever they are tending to either Viktor or Naph.

Mel gives him a humoured smile at it.

“Mel would like to hold him,” Viktor says when Jayce goes to hand Naph to him.

“Oh. Right.” Jayce easily switches to hand Mel the swaddle that is their son instead. “Make sure to support his head.”

“Already an over-protective father,” Mel jokes but her hands are careful when accepting their child. Her expression soft when she looks down at him. “Definitively one of the cuter babies I’ve been handed.”

Jayce beams at the praise for their son as false as it probably is. Slipping into the other chair by the bed and reaching to take Viktor’s hand.

“He looks just like Viktor doesn’t he?”

“I can see the resemblance,” Mel says with a quick glance up at Viktor. It is apparently enough for her to remember the gift. “Open it. Please.”

Viktor pulls his hand away from Jayce’s to undo the wrappings, revealing a wooden box with holes of various shapes and blocks matching to them as well as a small plastic hammer.

“I thought if he is anything like his parents he’ll want to find ways to fill any gap he finds. And the hammer reminded me of Jayce.”

“Thank you.” It is nice to receive something that wasn’t just the first cute thing the person had seen. Or flowers.

[eastwindmlk]

hi! here for the writing prompts thing: 7 or 18 for jily

Thank you so much! This really, really sparked something it seemed! This also did not go as expected. So, prepare for some hurt/comfort and angst! (I might need to apologize for this one!

To top it all off, I combined your ask with a lovely anon that also had 18 and added 19 from the list!

Buckle up! 1.6k under the cut or read on AO3! And @jilymicro-oops tag!

The sitting room was cold and dark—the candle having flickered out long enough ago that the scent of wax and wick no longer lingered in the air—when Lily jolted awake. She wasn’t even supposed to sleep, she was supposed to wait up. That is why she’d angled the chair towards the door, why she’d foregone a blanket and why there was a cup of, now, stale coffee beside the left leg of her resting place. Evidently, something had still compelled her to sleep. 

It had been the sound of the door, not the front door with its sharp slam and rattling chains, but the bathroom door at the far end of their small kitchen with the telltale rattling of the dish rack. He must have come in and saw her slumped in her chair. Lily wasn’t sure why James wouldn’t just come and wake her. 

That was until she heard him through the thin walls, the sound was unmistakable and worrisome. His retching made her stomach turn in a way Lily wasn’t used to. She had always had a strong stomach, the one friend that could stay behind without joining in. Now? She wasn’t too sure. She would blame everything else that was now there. The dread, the overwhelming and crushing fear of losing even more people she cared about, guilt for the ones she should have been able to save. 

Lily willed her stiff limbs to move, to carry her closer. Her hand rubbed at her painful wrist, sour and sore from having held up hear head this entire time. “James?” she called once she stepped into their kitchen, the cold floor leeching what little warmed she’d had in her body, making Lily shiver. 

“Are you alright, love?” she asked through a tight jaw, her muscles locking up while she dragged her feet along the chilled, linoleum. From here she could hear something else, not just the loud sickness but also something softer, something more broken. 

The sound of James quietly sobbing carried Lily’s feet forward, her head reeling while she contemplated the why. Who did they lose? Who was hurt, disfigured, driven closer to madness this time? Was it someone they knew well? She couldn’t bare to bring herself to name them. 

“James?” she asked again, an edge of desperation in her voice as her fist connected to the cheap plywood door of their bathroom. Just as she was about to plea for entry, the door creaked on its hinges and the light from the moon behind her cast a long shadow into the small, tiled room. 

There, in the middle of the room, she could see the hunched figure of her fiancé, hunched over the porcelain bowl. His knuckles white while he gripped the rim. There couldn’t be much left in his stomach; He didn’t like to eat before a mission. 

Lily did not want to think too much about how he was likely expelling nothing but water and bile, the bitter, biting of the acid. She could feel an echo of it in her own mouth when she crouched down next to James. Her hand nearly withdrew when she felt him shake under her touch. Not violent and jerky, more like a constant hum under her fingertips. 

“I’m here,” she assured James in a hoarse voice, her throat still dry from sleep. “I’m here,” she croaked out once more after a thick swallow. “You are safe, you are home, and I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised, her heart clenching painfully when a sob wrecked through him violently. 

There was one motion that shattered her, subtle at first and then when she noticed it she froze; James was moving away from her. His body strained and twisted to recoil from her touch. The sight of his bloodshot eyes behind a cracked lens, desperate and begging send Lily tumbling back to sit on the floor. 

“Don’t,” James cautioned when she tried one more time to reach for him. His words turned her arm to lead, and Lily dropped it limply in her lap. “You should go.” 

It took her a moment to collected herself, to recover from the shock that had been James’ rejection, before she pushed herself back into motion. “I’m not going anywhere, James,” Lily told him stubbornly and watched how he sat down, wiping his mouth on a slightly singed sleeve. 

His legs crossed under him, James sat there and attempted to drag in deep breaths, his entire being seeming to stutter and protest the idea. A choked wail echoed along the surrounding tiles when Lily lunged forward, her arms wrapping around him. “I’m not going anywhere,” she repeated quietly as she cradled him in her arms.

He did not try to struggle this time, he sagged, limply into her embrace and allowed her to pad him down; Search him for injuries which she did not find. “Lily,” James croaked out after a while, after his breaths had steadied and the sobs subsided. “You shouldn’t.” 

“Nonsense,” Lily bit ack immediately and her tone was a little harsher than she would have liked, but her last nerve had frayed several minutes ago. She was upset, distraught, panicked and impatient. “Of course I should be here, don’t be barmy,” she said with a tempered one. 

James pulled away from her embrace just enough to look at her, his eyes bloodshot and empty; Haunted by whatever he had seen tonight. “You won’t say that after you heard what I’ve done,” he argued back in a raspy voice, his face paling at the thought of confessing to her. “You won’t look at me the same way, you might not even love me any more.” 

The words came as a shock to Lily’s system, if her mind had been reeling before, it was in complete free fall now. "I don’t think I could stop loving you," she assured him and she meant it, every word. That did not stop the speed with which her heart attempted to break through her ribs. It did not keep the question from clawing its way up her throat, even if she really dd not want to know. 

“Don’t say that, not when you don’t know what I’ve done,” James said, now it was his turn to be hard-headed. “Lily I-” The words strangled him and nothing more came out. She watched as his features contorted in this mental agony. “I- Someone died,” he confessed. “And it was my fault.” 

And just like that the free fall jerked in a different direction. Who had been with James on his mission? Which one of their friends and colleagues had they lost? She was afraid to ask, she was afraid to admit that her mind went down a list and the further she got, the more relieved she was. The less it would hurt when his guilt would allow him to say the name.

“I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t- It was just… Just a stunner, how could I have known that- that he’d fall off the roof?” James said in a strained voice, his words were like a slowing charm and she stopped going down the list when she realized it. Her hand pushed his hair back from his forehead, to better look him in the eye. 

“Oh, James…” she sighed in relief, a small smile spread across her lips. “I could never love you less for that.” 

“But I killed someone, they’re dead because of me.” 

“And you are here because of it.” 

“I’m no better than them,” he said, his eyes dropped from her face as he confessed this and no coaxing Lily did he did not meet her eye.

Lily drew a deep breath, trying to be understanding when all she wanted to say was: ‘Good riddance.’ She’d seen too many funerals, raised too many wands to mourn the death of someone whose made their choice. “James, you didn’t go there to kill someone. You didn’t even cast that spell with the intention to. You are not the same as them.” 

She had to bite her tongue when James scoffed at that, clearly not believing a word she’d said. “What does it matter? I cannot do the greater good hippogryff shite. It doesn’t work, it doesn’t make sense,” he grits and Lily watched him bite down on his lip so hard she was surprised the skin didn’t break. “It doesn’t change the fact that I am a murder.” 

Lily wanted to do nothing but argue with him, tell James how wrong he was, but she knew it wouldn’t do anything. They would bud heads and both of them would end up hurt and upset. If only she could just smack some sense into him, if only she could make him see. 

If only James was not one of the few people on this planet with a head as hard as hers. It would be like quicksand, the more she fought, the further away he would slip. 

“James, this might make me a terrible person, but I don’t care. All I care about is that you are here and you will never not be perfect to me,” she said firmly, her lips pressing firm kisses to wherever she could reach; His hair, his forehead, his temple, the rims of his glasses. “I don’t ever get enough of you. Frankly, I am obsessed with you. Not in a creepy way. You are my everything.” 

There was a long silence as she just held him, rocking back and forth in a soothing motion ad hoped that it would bring James back to his senses. Back from the near hysterics he’d been in before. 

So, it was a good sign when his voice, however small, spoke up. “So, you’re obsessed with me?” The semblance of humour that permeated his words made her heart feel lighter.

[really-fanny-longbottom]

@shadowsingercassia, thank you so much for the tag. i loved doing this! 🫶🏻

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

none, actually! i don't have an account on ao3 and i think the website it's complicated for me.

2. How many fics have you completed this year?

15! which is literally all my fics since i only started posting since may.

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start did year?

honestly, i don't even know. ongoing, i think it's about two or maybe three. on progress? that's the million dollar question, i have this problem where i start writing new things before even finishing the others that i already started. i have too many (5x) fics on my drafts.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

without a doubt, never yours and only in my dreams. these fics are sooo different from each other, but i absolutely loved the process of writing them, i think it was when i felt the most motived.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

i will have to say, tears in pages. it was the most challenging fic i ever wrote and it's different from the others. it was also the one where i had to force myself to stop, otherwise it would be a book and not a fic.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

only in my dreams!!! in both ways, actually. when i started writing it that was not the original plot, the ideas just came to me while i was writing and the development that came after too. also, when i posted, i was shocked to see how many people liked it and requested for a part two. it was one of the best moments i had here.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

yessss! tears in pages and echoes of the past, i loved writing them because of how different they are from all of my other works and it made me a little upset when i saw they didn't get the same attention as the others, especially tears in pages, i really loved that one.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

most of my time here is spend on fics, so, i don't really know many artists but i love @cafekitsune dividers. they're so good that i use them all for my fics and page. they're really amazing.

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@daycourtofficial was the first page i found here. i literally read all her fics in one night. they're so good, the plot, the writing, truly amazing. before i start writing, i asked for some advices (anonymously at the time because i was too shy) and they helped me so much and gave the courage to post and it's one of the best decisions i ever made. so, thank you 🫶🏻.

@azsazz was the second page i found and i also read all of the fics in a space of hours. the amount of spam i must have given, my god. i loved the creativity and how she managed to explore so different ideas and worlds. i was so captivated by the majority of them, so good.

i'm always looking out for your new fics, and both of your pages are some of the ones i always come back to read and reread. 🥰

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@itsswritten, absolutely amazing, i love all the fics, especially the wings universe. it's so magical.

@writingcroissant, i could read those fics over and over and over again, completely amazing.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did i start?

i have not.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

that i found my courage to post and share my ideas and writing. i was so nervous at the begin and now it's one of my favorites things to do. i just wish i had started sooner.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

that it can be a safe space, we can do it just for fun and enjoy it. we can share our own art and support the art of others as well.

14. What is your advice?

believe in yourself - it's the best advice i've been given.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

try to finish those fics i've already started without starting new ones (oops) and try to get them out of my drafts. also, improving my writing, i feel like it already had some improving but it's not quite where i want it yet.

no pressure tags: @daycourtofficial @azsazz @itsswritten and anyone else who wants to do this!

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you so much @velarisdusk for the tag! 🫶🏻

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

I don't have anything published on AO3 simply because I still don't know how to use it even though I do have an account. But here on tumblr, it's 92.878

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

49! I've never counted them before and never realized just how many they were omg

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Ongoing only Bound By Secrets. In progress apparently 10? I thought I had 3 WIPs. I completely forgot about the other 7 lol

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

UGH how do I choose one? A Helping Hand has a special place in my heart because it's the first fic I wrote and posted. Night and Days is one of my favorites because I love the banter between Azriel and reader, and I also have to mention Say My Name because omg I loved writing that one and I know I might be biased but I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I'd say the first few things I wrote rather than one in particular for the simple reason that in Italian I tend to write very long sentences because it's normal, but in English sentences are usually shorter so it took a bit to get into that mindset. As for experimental, I'm trying to write a fic from two povs at the same time, sort of like an omniscient narrator. We'll see how it turns out.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

Many fics surprise me while writing because I don't plan them out that much other than a few things I want to happen and then I see where the story leads me. As for reception, Bound by Secrets. I didn't expect so many people asking for a part 2! (I'll write it, I promise)

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

The Path To Healing and on a happier (and smutty) note Alcohol and Giggles. I cried writing the first one and laughed writing the second one.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I love every single fanart by madschofield and elizianna.the.one!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@writingcroissant was the first author I found on here, the literal reason I created an account was to read her fics, and @illyrianbitch was the second. I love everything they write and it made me want to write again.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@shedoessoshedoes and @duskandcobalt! I'm going to read all of your fics so don't be surprised if you see me in your notifications for the next few weeks 🥰

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start

Nope, no collaborations.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Kinktober! I decided to do it two weeks before it started and didn't think I'd be able to write all 31 one fics but I did it!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

When I started posting, I kept opening tumblr every five minutes to see if there were any new notes/comments/etc. Now I don't do that anymore. I still care about people enjoying my content of course and any kind of feedback is always super appreciated, but I don't need to continuously check to know that my writing is valid and good even if I get only a few likes.

14. What is your advice?

I'm the wrong person to ask this to, but I guess write what you like and what you want to read. I know it's basic, but never before I realized just how true it is. Feedback and appreciation for your work is awesome, but you have to be the first one to like it or it's probably going to turn out bland if you push yourself to write something you don't like or are not interested in.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish working on all those WIPs apparently lol. And I have an idea for a series that I want to work on as well.

No pressure of course, but if you'd like to @azrielslittleslut @anarchiii @shedoessoshedoes or anyone else who wants to do it!

[mountain-dew-tickledpink]

a tiny punk Jeremy for @rebuke-me because it’s late at night and I’m BORED might’ve made him look too silly

[mellozheist]

The Red means I love you // Tragedy of 3rd life Animation

Watch The animation on Youtube >:D

@inthelittlewood 

[bloominglegumes]

another abandoned wip/sketch dump

[potato-lord-but-not]

Arthur being a menace and also my fav side characters evveerrrrr Noel hiiii

[sillybeanies]

beanie baby angel bear pngs :3 (star & halo ii)

[macbethz]

He wonders what age he’s finally reached. The Time War used years as ammunition; at the Battle of Rodan’s Wedding alone, he’d aged to five million and then regressed to a mewling babe, merely from shrapnel. Now, the ache in his bones feels… one thousand years old? Well. Call it nine hundred. Sounds better.

In the same way RTD's 'Doctor Who and the Time War,' where the above quote is from, is a page from a novel that doesn't exist, this is a splash page from a comic that doesn't exist. Time War PTSD, much like the war itself, is multidimensional.

Now available as a print by popular demand!

[kurikorso]

in my moomins era once again. i've been amused lately at the idea of The Joxter carrying baby Snufkin around in his mouth

[1am-s0-veryt1red]

"bkg should be higher than 15" bkg debuted at no. 4 and dropped to 15 because he can't stop yelling at people HAUSHDHS

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

I feel like something that should have been explored more in Arcane is that despite the dangers and pretty much horrific conditions, Zaun children seemingly grow up a lot more caring and have a larger understanding of family in comparison to Piltover children. And if such a reflection of the real world in a sense.

The kids of Zaun seemingly grow up with a lot more adult support. Ekko is easily welcomed under Benzo’s wings. Vander adopts 4 kids (two of which we learn he knew of before their parents death, two of which we can’t be sure of). Silco, despite all what happened, and his ulterior motives, shows no problem adopting Powder/Jinx. In the alternate universe it seems as though he’s still played a part in the kids lives. Jinx adopts Isha easily and Sevika cares for her as well. Hell, even Mr. War Crimes Against Humanity does well with little Viktor (until ya know, the animal abuse).

Hell, up until Vander dies (the first time) there seems to be a large understanding of if there’s an orphan or a kid in need of guidance, take them in! (And certainly don’t inform them of your plans to turn a giant pink salamander into drugs and be confused when a nine year old doesn’t understand). If a kid wants to be your apprentice, let them! For the most part, until things all went wrong in the end of act 1 of season 1, the worst parts of Zaun seem pretty typical for any city in poverty.

Match that with what we see with how Caitlyn and Jayce grow up. Caitlyn is given adult support, yes, and it’s clearly a good adult mentor, but it’s not entirely by her choice. It’s been chosen for her. She’s safe, but there’s a lack of freedom of choice. Meanwhile, when Jayce gets older, and that same accident in Act 1 happens, the family that supported him and his mom turns their backs. His own mom doesn’t support him either, because she’s afraid of what he’s talking about, but also because he’s damming them to being outcasts.

Conversely, Vander is more than willing to take the fall for what Claggor, Milo, Vi and Powder did. He’s willing to go to prison for a long time, in order for them to have a better future. Despite Vi’s best efforts, he’s not going to listen to her (she is just a kid) and he’s not letting his family go down and get hurt.

Meanwhile, a man who grew up in this mentality, where there’s a wide sense of family support from people who aren’t your biological family, is the one to go to Jayce, a stranger, and tells him he believes in him. It’s why it’s such a shock to Jayce; his own family and family friends denied him. They didn’t support him.

I think that’s what makes all the difference. Piltover and Zaun have wildly different understandings of family and forgiveness. For Piltover, it shuns and damns the lives of those who upset the balance. For Zaun, it provides safety and never ending understanding.

Just. I’m thinking.

[zae-heeyyy]

Boisterous

Summary: Arthur takes you to The Loft. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 2,095 Warnings: 18+ MDNI Tags: rough sex, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, biting

a/n: I somehow ended up spending literal hours trying to perfect this drawing. I traced a lot and freehanded a lot too, but overall, I'm happy with the final product. TYSM for taking the time to read, like, reply, and reblog; I appreciate every interaction!

Boisterous: behavior that is loud, energetic, and often unruly. It describes a person or situation that is full of noisy enthusiasm.

When Arthur found "The Loft" two nights ago, he was grateful to sleep in a bed surrounded by four sturdy walls. The accommodation would've been perfect, but you were missing from it all. Lewd images of your past escapades together infiltrated his mind as he tried to sleep, and he made his best efforts to push them aside. Your pretty face lit up his brain, and he wrapped his hand around his cock, trying his best to imitate the ecstasy only you could make him feel. No grip was as delectable as yours, though, and despite a quick release, he was more pent-up than ever. He needed you there with him and planned to sweep you up and bring you back as soon as the sun rose.

The cowboy's sonorous voice roused you from your dreams about him, the early morning sun casting a golden glow on his face as he leaned over you. His beard had grown since the few days you'd last seen him.

"Get dressed. M'taking you somewhere."

Without a second thought, you joined him on the back of his horse within the hour. Arthur spared the details of this urgent impromptu trip, keeping you in suspense for the duration of the ride.

In a few hours, you'd passed through Valentine, went by Fort Wallace, and climbed up into the mountains of the Grizzlies East. As you rode on, the clouds grew thick and gray, and the smell of petrichor filled your nostrils. Arthur caressed a hand you had wrapped around his waist, reassuring you.

"Almost there."

But you weren't close enough; the atmosphere released a torrential downpour in the last fifteen minutes of your journey, leaving you drenched. A little after noon, you reached a towering outpost that Arthur coined, The Loft. Arthur ushered you inside, futilely shielding you from the rain and promising the heat of a fireplace as he closed the door behind you.

While you stood, rubbing your arms for warmth, Arthur checked for signs of other people, climbing a ladder and peaking over the top for a second before sliding down.

You two were all alone, finally.

When he got a good look at you, he realized just how soaked you were, the layers of your clothes sticking to you and showing every curve of your body. Arthur swallowed, mouth salivating from the view of your hard nipples peeking through your blouse.

All the blood left his head and traveled south, damn near making him dizzy. Maybe he should've been embarrassed, but he was just a man, and you were the most alluring thing ever.

Two large steps were all it took to get to you. One hand found the back of your head, and the other rested on your hip as he drew your lips to his, practically swallowing you in a scalding kiss.

You could feel the groan rumbling in his chest, and you giggled against his lips. The noise crescendoed as his lips separated from yours to find your jaw and neck. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, inhaling your scent while the hand on the back of your head traveled to the small of your back.

"Mmm," he hummed, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. "I missed y'so much."

And he had you all alone, truly alone, for the first time in your relationship. He'd been waiting to make love to you the way he really wanted. Your previous rendezvous were hushed, whispered, and sneaky, your moans muffled by Arthur's lips or hand. Even when he whisked you away to a hotel, he was keenly aware of everybody else around who could hear the two of you. Turning you into a whimpering mess filled him with fervent pride, but he wanted those parts of you, especially the sounds you made, all to himself.

The thought of finally hearing all those pretty little noises at full volume was enough to rile him up, and his hand groped your breast, kneading with a force he hadn't used on you before. You shivered against him; some of it was from your arousal, but the other part was the cold.

"The fire, Arthur," you said, shoving him off playfully. Grunting, he tore away from you, grateful for a log near the stove.

While his back was turned, you peeled the wet clothes off your body and dropped your blouse on the floor. Arthur spun back around right as you stepped out of your skirt, leaving you clad in your bloomers and nothing else. His breath hitched in his throat as if it were the first time your body had been bestowed upon him.

"Straight outta my dreams," he declared, his blue eyes shining with pure avidity. And just like that, Arthur strode across the room, dragging a chair with him and putting it against the door nob, just in case. You were back in his arms in an instant, his kisses emphasized with unadulterated sounds of pleasure. A rough hand slid into the waistband of your bloomers and grabbed a fistful of your ass, squeezing, letting go, and repeating.

You sigh breathlessly as he feels you up, leaning into his touch. Then without warning, he tastes you hungrily, tongue fucking your mouth.

His chest vibrates with titillation again, and you're hoisted up into his arms just a beat later, his hands cupping your rear. You squeal, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding on tight as he carries you across the room and dumps you on blue cotton blankets. Breathing heavily, you watch under eyes saturated with desire as he promptly removes his own damp clothes.

You were just as taken aback by his body as he was with yours. Brown curls adorned his chest and stomach and gathered in a carnal wreath around his manhood. Touching him was like running your hands over a textured map: his scars, old and new, like rivers and valleys, while his muscles, firm and hot, were mountains and volcanoes. You could spend eternity exploring that map. Arthur would never get used to you ogling him in such a way, but now your hungry eyes lured him to you.

He climbed on top of you, pinning you under his weight. Usually, he'd ask if you were okay, but you answered the question before he'd even asked by tangling your legs around his waist and crossing your ankles to bring him closer.

His hard-on brushed against your leg, making him shudder. You helped him remove the last garment of clothes between the two of you, lifting your hips to help him pull the bloomers down your legs and off your feet.

Arthur normally took his time meticulously exploring you, leaving kisses in his wake, but damn it, the thought of the sweet grip of your pussy had been on his mind for days, and he needed it now.

His forehead leaned against yours, and he clutched your jaw, holding your face still to gawk at it. If someone saw him this way, they'd think he'd just completed a full sprint, every exhale coming out in a loud pant. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, turning him animalistic. He couldn't wait any longer.

The gunslinger dipped his head to look between you, a guttural utterance escaping him as you spread your legs, exposing your needy cunt. He held his cock, nearly discolored from being so hard, and rubbed it up and down your center, coating himself in your juices.

"Need you, woman," he bellows. The bass in his voice sends goosebumps spreading down your arms, and you nod, mouth agape, eyes staring into his. His jaw also hinges as he watches himself disappear inside you. Once wholly sheathed, he moans long and loud, a stark contrast to his regular subduedness.

You'd never seen him like this, so desperate and uninhibited. Your body responds to the unexpected but welcomed change, your pussy clenching around him, making both of you jolt. Holding himself up on his forearms, he rocks his hips into you at a steady pace, leaning down to kiss your neck.

Shy and coy Arthur had left the building, replaced by wolfish Arthur, willing to howl and snarl for what he wanted. And in the moment, he wanted to brand you with his mouth. Bruising you was defacing a masterpiece, but it was a crime he was happy to commit. He was an outlaw, after all. He nipped at your neck with his teeth, leaving a mark before moving on to another spot to do the same.

You cried out, the first orgasm of the night building within you. He knew your body well and adjusted to give you what you needed, straightening his back, digging his thumbs into your ribs, and pistoning in and out, his hand going to rub your clit. Head tipped back, he moaned, no, roared, with every thrust.

You knew this was rare: Arthur Morgan losing complete control of himself. He was lost in you, lost in your wetness, lost in your tightness, and lost in those sounds. His head snapped down, and he stared right through you, eyes wild.

"Let me hear you," he demanded, slowing his strokes to get your attention. Head spinning, you gasped, too cock drunk to pay attention to what he was saying.

Grumbling, he pulled out of you to switch positions, now standing on the side of the bed. He guided you back to him, aligning your backside with his crotch. He hugged you to his chest, your back pressed into him. Your hands instantly went to his forearm, holding onto him as he practically held you in the air.

"I said let me hear you," he growled in your ear, accenting each word of his demand with an electrifying pulse of his hips. You arched your back into him, his name coming off your lips like thunder.

"That's it, darlin’."

Perverse sounds of wet skin slapping together and boisterous cries filled the cabin.

You were starting to see stars, your vision blurring as you focused on the pressure building in your insides, wanting so desperately for it to boil over. Your toes dug into the buckskin rug at your feet, trying to keep the rest of your body upright.

Arthur was a machine, pounding into you with the goal of bringing both of you to the edge. He didn't relent—didn't show any mercy for the mess you'd become under him. It was overstimulating in the best way possible.

You just needed a second, just one, to get your barrings. Attempting to scoot forward for that break was futile. Arthur moved with you, his length plunging deeper than ever.

"C'mere," he growled as his cock grazed against that sweet spot in the depths of your core, making you holler out and lose the little balance you had left. It didn't matter, though; he held you taught against him, pinning your body between him and the bed. Keeping one arm wrapped around you, the other touched you right where you craved.

"Now," he groaned into your ear, fingers circling your clit antagonizingly slow. A chuckle exited him as you melted to his touch. "Want you to come undone right here. Can you do that for me?"

Droplets of sweat fell from his head onto your back, and you moaned out, "Y-yes, Arthur."

You didn't take long then; a wave of warmth crashed over you as your velvet walls contracted around him, making the man curse into the now-hot cabin air. His hips kept their steady rhythm as you came, Arthur chasing his own climax now.

"Good girl, good girl, good girl," He moaned with every thrust as you clenched around him. He folded himself in half, once again putting his full weight on you, his heart pounding against your back like a drum. More erratic now, his rhythm lost its steady cadence as his balls tightened, his orgasm coursing through his veins.

He pulled out of you, one hand still gripping your side as the other one pumped furiously at his cock. Moaning, whimpering, and whining, Arthur threw his head back as hot spurts of his lust splattered across your back.

Hand falling from your hip, his breath slowed as clarity flowed back into his eyes. Using his discarded bandana, he wiped his sins away from your back before gently rolling you over. He scratched the back of his neck, a sly grin making home on his face as he watched you splayed out and spent. Arthur had gotten everything he'd ever wanted: a bed, four walls, and you.

[homocrafting]

Tuff Guys try SO hard to be all "we're not a team" and "we'll be together when it's convenient" and "it's really everyone by themselves" but then they'll have a collective mace that goes around, and they'll help each other get kills even when it's hopeless, and they turned all their attention into helping each other when one of them went under green, and they still have team meetings every start of session, and they still decided to pool their resources, and they still have a collective calling card, and in the beginning of session 7 Bdubs still says, "I know what I want, Tango knows what he wants, now what do you want?" and it's framed as a question about kills but it's not, not really, and Etho still doesn't really answer.

They say they're not a team, but they still call Etho a traitor as though you can betray something that apparently doesn't exist. They say they don't care, but Tango still tells Ren "Not gonna lie, I was going to get kinda sad that Bdubs was trying to kill me, but it's just you." (paraphrased, but still). There's that part when Tango and Bdubs are talking and they both come to the conclusion Tango can't trust him, and the thing is, Bdubs could have lied. He could have said sure you can, but he knows Tango knows because they know each other enough, because they've been a team enough times, because they are a team and that's what he'd've done.

Tuff Guys went into the alliance fully vocal about how it wouldn't work. This never leads good places for them. They're doing it anyway. They'll never admit it, not directly, not loud and clear, because it's hurt them enough times as is, but they still live next to each other and they still coordinated team attacks in session 7 and they still haven't committed to real distrust among them

All this to say that denial is a river and egypt and by god they are DIVING