#i dont use the kind with actual tobacco though ive never even tried it and never will

[archaeolitikum]

i need to stop thinking using snus after 2 beers is a fun and good idea it sucks so much <3

[ladyboltontoyou]

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter

Ask: Ok well I was wondering if you could write an Arthur Morgan x Reader where the reader is the daughter of a rich farm owning family and Arthur rides up to the farm/ranch one day to scope the place out and see if they're easy to rob but somehow ends up with heart eyes for the reader and starts sneaking around to see her. Doesn't have to be smut, but that would be awesome. Thank you!

Warnings: Probably cursing. A bit of an age gap since Arthur is, you know, like 30 something, and the reader is still living with her parents.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader 

A/N: So this turned out longer than I had originally planned oops. ALso apparently freezers were invented around the 1830′s so don’t come at me for having ice cubes in Arthurs drink ok. I really hope this is what you imagined and it doesn’t seem rushed, even though I spent like 4 hours on it. Hope it’s not too short or too long. OKAY I’M DONE RAMBLING YOU CAN READ NOW.

The last thing you expected to see on a Friday afternoon was a stranger on a white horse riding up your dirt road. You had been reading a book on your upstairs balcony when you saw him, at first just a small white speck a ways away. But when that white speck started making noise you looked up and saw it was a man on a horse, a visitor. You rarely got visitors here that weren’t two men on a wagon full of supplies. 

You set your book down on the table and leaned forward to get a better look as he neared the front of your house. He looked handsome enough, even though you were on the second story balcony and he was on the ground below. From what you could see he was a rugged man about thirty or so, not the kind of men your parents usually dealt with. Your curiosity got the best of you and you walked back inside and downstairs where you saw your father opening the front doors. One of his work friends stood beside him in case things were to go south, his hand sitting comfortably on his pistol as a gentle warning to the stranger that stood on your porch.

“Sorry to bother you folks, I was looking for the Braithwaite manor and it looks like I got myself lost. Do you know whereabouts that is?” His voice sounded so friendly and warm, you would never expect that he was there to see if you would be easy to ransack. You watched the conversation go down from the bottom step of the staircase and tried not to look too obvious. 

Your father was totally oblivious and way too trusting. “No worries friend, these back roads are tricky. Fancy a drink? You look like you’ve been riding all day. Come inside and I’ll have my wife draw you up some directions.”

The man looked hesitant but eventually shrugged. “You’re too kind. I’d really appreciate it.” 

You took the chance to walk into the tea room since you knew they’d come inside any minute, and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Plus, you wanted to be nosey, it wasn’t often attractive strangers came by. You sat down at the table and picked up the book from the table, something you had already read before, and tried your best to look as if you had been doing it for some time already.

“Who’s that man outside?” Your mother had snuck up behind you and scared the daylights out of you when she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I don’t know.” You said after you recovered from the scare. “But he sure is good looking.” 

She peaked at the front door and nodded in approval at your taste. “You’re not wrong about that.” Thank god it was your mother and not your grandmother, she would have chided you for hours about being indecent. 

Finally, they came in and the man took off his hat, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the change of light. He looked even better looking close up. His facial hair was trimmed neatly but looked like it had grown in a little, the hair on his head the same. His face was partially spotted from the dust in the air from horse hooves but he didn’t look truly dirty, nothing compared to your farmboys.

 He looked around and seemed impressed with the place, his eyes looking into every room he could see from his spot. When he looked into the room your father began walking into, the tea room, he only spared you a short glance. 

Alright, well, you weren’t used to that. Most men who saw you immediately started complimenting your parents on how gorgeous you were, praising you and never failing to remark some version of ‘You’ll make a wonderful wife/Someone a very happy husband/Beautiful children’. But he didn’t say a thing.

“Darling, would you be so kind as to draw some directions from here to Braithwaite manor? Our friend  here has gotten lost.” Your father asked your mother who smiled and obliged, heading upstairs to get some paper. “Oh! I didn’t even see you there!” He said when he noticed you sitting on the couch. “Could you bring our guest some tea?”

The stranger looked at you and looked like he was about to decline and tell you not to worry yourself but you were already standing up. “Sure thing daddy, need anything else?” You asked sweetly with a smile. 

Your father looked to the man who just shook his head and tried to say ‘I’m fine’ and ‘No thank you’ at the same time. “No, I’m, thank you,” He jumbled over his words and looked visibly embarrassed. “I’m alright.”

You smiled widely, amused by that. He looked away and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Your father paid no mind and led him to the couch, talking about how harsh the month had been with no rain at all. 

When you got back from the kitchen with a glass of tea he looked up and accepted the glass from you happily, muttering a ‘thanks’ before he almost chugged the entire thing, even chewing on some of the ice. Your mother came down the stairs with a piece of paper in hand and one of your nice fountain pens in the other. 

“You’ll have to excuse my writing, I’m not the best artist.” She joked and sat on the single chair across from the couch. “You should have told our artist here to do it instead, she could draw him the best map he’d ever laid his eyes on.” She joked and you tried not to let them see how bashful she made you. She always bragged about you and anything you did, you could draw something purposefully awful and she would still treat it like a priceless painting.

“Oh it’s alright, I’m sure I’ll manage.” He chuckled, taking more ice into his mouth. 

You sat down on the other side of the couch and watched the man from the corner of your eye. He looked around the house while his jaw moved to chew the ice as if he was taking note of every single window and door. “Say, you folks-”

Your mother sighed in frustration, putting two fingers on her forehead in exasperation. “I’m sorry, I can barely draw a line. Darling, could you please?” She slid the paper across the table and gave you a sweet look.

“I’ll try.” You laughed and leaned down, taking the pen from her.

“What were you saying?” Your father asked from his seat and the man looked confused before he remembered.

“I was just going to ask if you knew of some good people to hire for security. Assuming those men at the end of the road are what I’m thinkin’ they are.”

“Yes, they work for a man named Michael, he hires men that used to be in the war and sells their services to those who can afford it.” Your father said proudly. Arthur just nodded.

“Here’s the house.” You said to the man as you drew a small house next to the scribbles your mother had done. He scooted closer to you carefully and watched as you drew. “And here’s the road. The corn fields are on the right, the tobacco on the left.” You kept talking as you drew and tried to focus on moving the pen instead of how close he was to you. His body heat radiated off of him and grazed your bare arm and neck, you could hear him breathing slowly. He smelt like smoke and day-old cologne mixed with the leather from his coat. 

As you gave him directions he would never need Arthur felt morality tug at his heartstrings. You were such good people, welcoming him into your home and showing such hospitality. He would have to tell Dutch there was no way, there were too many workers and guards, he would make something up. He came expecting a snooty rich family but was caught off guard by good people. You all had the generosity, kindness, and respect of poor folk.

When you finished you slid the map over on the table. “Let it sit for a minute before you touch it, the ink’s still wet.” You warned and put the cap back on the pen. “Especially here.” You laughed softly and pointed at the words of his destination where you had spelled it wrong the first time and scratched it out.

He nodded and muttered an ‘alright’, looking at you from a side glance. Your father talked for a while about the people who lived in the manor, not being shy about his opinion. Arthur couldn’t have agreed more but he kept up his facade and played dumb. 

“It’s dry now.” You said and Arthur looked away from your father. You were looking at the paper so he took the chance to actually look at you, unintentionally admiring you. Normally he was good about keeping his eyes where they belonged. If there was anyone who respected women it was Arthur, but it was hard not to appreciate your beauty. He figured your sweetness was the only reason he stared. It had been a while since he saw a sweet girl who wasn’t trying to pickpocket him or get him to spend a fortune in the saloon. 

“Thank you.” He picked up the paper and admired your work. One of the few things he could really appreciate was art. You drew so effortlessly, the small roads and hills looked like the maps he’d seen the professionals sell. “Well, I reckon I better be on my way, I’ve taken up too much of your time.” 

“Not at all.” Your father stood up and so did the stranger. They shook hands as he thanked your father who shook him off and pat his back a few times. “You sure there’s nothing else we could do for you?”

“You’ve done more than enough.” He promised and looked back to you and your mother, the paper held gently in his hands. “Thank you both for your hospitality. And for the map.” He held up the paper and you smiled, causing him to unknowingly do the same. 

When he started walking out the door with your father you ran upstairs and almost fell off your balcony to watch him ride off. The hot wind hit your face when you reached the banister, just in time to watch him ride off. He put his hat back on and took one last look behind him, not failing to notice the beautiful young girl watching him leave.

***

The frogs and crickets sang while the fireflies lit the black air with soft pulsating gold. You were on your banister half reading a book and half watching the farmboys work in the fields below, their lanterns bobbing gently through the rows of plants, stopping occasionally to pull up weeds or a dead plant. 

It was hard to read. It was stupid to even try. But there was nothing else to do to take your mind off of your thoughts, even though reading wasn’t doing a good job at that. At least it was something.

A dog barking in the distance made you set your book down. It was the dogs they kept up at the end of the road to warn when someone was coming. You waited a minute to see if they would calm down but they didn’t. You heard your father yell downstairs to the men at the end of the road, and they responded with something about deer in the woods. 

You believed it for a moment until you heard rattling from the other side of your balcony. The first thing that came to mind was some kind of greasy gunslinging bastard but before you could start screaming two arms hooked over the side of the ledge, covered by that same damn leather jacket you had been so close to earlier. 

It shouldn’t have made you feel any better considering his original intentions were to rob your family for everything they had. But for some reason you had a feeling he wasn’t a threat to you. That made you incredibly stupid and naive but thankfully, for once, you were right in this situation. 

When he finally pulled himself over he looked surprised to see you standing there watching him. “Now, before you start screaming,” He said as he reached up to grab the lantern that hung above him. “I’m not here to hurt you or anything like that.” He blew out the small flame and the two of you were suddenly surrounded by darkness. 

“Then why are you here?” You asked cautiously. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him again, but the last thing you expected was this. If anyone saw him your father's politeness would be out the window as well as Arthur.

He sighed as if he didn’t know why himself. “You been on my mind girl, and I don’t know why. I don’t know why my dumbass thought it would be a good idea to risk not only my ass but yours, just to come back up here and ask for your name.”

You covered your mouth to stifle that bubbled in your throat. “Truly? That’s why?”

Arthur laughed softly, shaking his head when he realized how ridiculous it was. “I suppose so. And I wanted to ask for another one of those hundred-dollar drawings you make.” 

You laughed again and put your fingers on the bottom lip you held between your teeth. “Oh yeah? Was my map that good?”

He grinned and looked down at his boots, kicking them against the floor to kick some pebbles loose from the bottoms. He couldn’t believe how young he felt then, like he was only sixteen again flirting around with the farmer's daughter. The only thing different from that was he was much, much, much older. If the other men in the gang saw him they’d make fun of him till the day he died for sneaking around for a girl. 

“Well, okay, I guess I can make you something.” You smiled while biting your lip. He put on a show of acting grateful, clasping his hands together and placing them in front of his forehead. When you recovered from quiet laughter you went into your room to get some paper and a pencil. You made sure both your doors were locked before you went back onto your dark balcony. You stopped in the open doorway, noticing how little you could see. There was no way you could draw anything out there unless a lantern was lit, but that would be too bright and anyone nearby would be able to see the two of you. “I can’t see out here, maybe we should go in my room.” 

He was reluctant for a minute, considering how fast he’d be able to run and jump out the balcony if need be. “Yeah, sure.” He sighed and walked towards the doors. The spurs on his boots lightly jingled and you could hear fabric moving against fabric as he moved past you into your dimly lit room. “Been a while since I’ve been in a room this nice.” He admitted as he looked around your room. 

“You live in a barn then?” You teased and sat down at the table near the windows. “Oh, I never told you my name. It’s (Y/N).” 

Arthur leaned against the wall near you and crossed his ankles, nodding as he thought over your name. “(Y/N). Never met anyone with that name before.”

You smiled proudly, twirling the pencil in your fingers. “And yours?”

He paused, considering while he looked out the window. “Arthur.” He said finally and looked back to you. 

“Arthur.” You mused before remembering what you were supposed to be doing. “Ah, sorry, what did you say you want me to draw you?”

He snorted and crossed his arms. “I didn’t give that any thought, do anything you’d like.” 

You bit your lip and looked him up and down. “Okay. It might take me a little while though.” He wanted to say ‘good’, but held his tongue and settled for a ‘That’s okay’.

After about an hour of talking, constant talking, you were finally finished. “If I had longer I could have done better, but, here.” You slid the paper across the table to him. After a while, he got tired and had sat down across from you.

He took the paper in his hands and squinted before his eyes widened. “Christ, girl.” He breathed and looked over the lines and shading. “You’re better than me.”

“You draw too?” You asked with sudden interest but he didn’t respond, he was too caught up in the paper in front of him. 

“I can’t believe this. Did you take a picture of me when I wasn’t looking?” He shook his head and scratched his chin as he continued admiring it. 

You blushed and ran a hand through your hair, he made you into a flustered mess with those praises. They were different when they were coming from someone who wasn’t kin. “Thank you.” It was all you could say. You didn’t expect him to like it that much, it was a hurried sketch of him leaning against your wall, but as much as you liked to pretend your art wasn’t that good there was no denying that this was an exceptionally realistic drawing. You were almost sad to see it go.

Arthur shook his head and looked up from the paper, looking at you completely different. Like how your father looked at your mother the first time he saw her shoot a gun. Newfound respect and admiration glinted in those pretty blue eyes of his, all directed to you. He was going to say something else but the sounds of heels coming up the stairway stopped him. 

“(Y/N)! I just found a letter from June, it came yesterday but-” She grabbed your doorknob and tried to open it, only succeeding in causing the door to shake slightly. Arthur looked at you with wide eyes as she called out your name a second time. 

“Go, hurry!” You whispered and he sat up as quickly and quietly as he could, tiptoeing to the open doors. “One second, I’m changing into my nightdress!” You called back to her as you rushed the grown man out of your room.

He paused in the same spot he had climbed up, one hand on the jasmine covered lattice he had used as a ladder. “Could I come see you again?” He asked boldly, the paper in his hand slightly moving from the breeze. 

You laughed in disbelief. “There’s no way I could say no to that. You better.”

Arthur smiled then, the widest and cheesiest smile he had worn in a while. If it wasn’t for the lantern sitting inside your room next to the window he stood near, you wouldn’t have seen it. You wanted to say more, but he swung his legs over the edge and left you to explain to your mother why you spent so long doing something so simple.

[basically-an-artist]

Part one of my #nanowrimo entry... Feedback welcome

I had to give myself a second to process what i thought i was seeing. Lamont, my brother, in my living room. His hair had grown alot longer since the last time id seen him. Though, i could tell by the way hed tied his locs that it was him. Messy but functional, and somehow always stylish. For him, though, as with everything, it came naturally.

  He looked magical, bathed in the blue light of the tv; as if there was such a look. He scanned one of the posters on the wall, apparently facinated with world war z.  I wondered how he was able to see them at all with only the pale light from the tvs reflection to distinguish them. In his black trench coat and kangol cap he was out of place amongst the empty beer cans, macbooks, assorted drug paraphernalia, and Harry Potter dvd box set scattered over the floor. It didnt help that he was drenched and dripping water over everything. A puddle collected slowly on the rug beneath him. It wasnt raining outside, though, so i could only guess how he'd been so thouroughly soaked.

Either way, he left a puddle under him as he stood, and by the size of it hed been here a while.

"You arent going to say hello to your brother?"

He didnt even turn around to speak, he kept looking at the pictures and posters lining the walls. I jumped slightly at the sound of him. I hadnt realized hed seen or even heard me;i couldnt even hear my own steps as i walked down the hall. It was a few seconds before i answered, roiling over his last visit before i said anything.

How did he get in? Were on the third floor.

"What are you even doing here dude, i told you i didnt want to see you." My voice fell off at the end. Im sure it gave away at least a peice of my inner monolouge.

Id actually kind of wished hed just show up like this, as he tended to do when he was unwelcomed. I hoped the prompt would give him a reason to apologize for our last meeting, or at least offer an explanation.

He completely ignored what id said.

"You know ive actually seen one of these before," he paused as he pointed at the tv, "What did they call them in the books... dementors?" He shuddered slightly before shaking his head. Now he spoke in a hush, like he was talking to himself, "Those things are not done justice by the movies." He looked away now, another shudder shaking his coattails. Water droplets flying.

"Why are you here? How did you get in?" Silence.

The questions hung in the air. My heartbeat rang in my ears for every second that passed

More silence.

The whole room seemed to breathe with my brother as he sighed. He finally turned to look at me and i froze. Half of me wanted to run to him, but the other half was screaming to jump out the window.

Has face bore the scar of a grotesque burn. As if hed peeked into the nozzle of a flamethrower as it turned on.

his eye underneath the scar looked normal enough. It didnt look misshapen or damaged in any way. But he no longer had an eyelid, top or bottom. His right eye almost cartoonish, exposed, and surrounded by the muddied burgundy of the charred skin in the pale blue light. He kept a straight face as he looked at me, but his eye gave his gaze a manic intensity.i had to stop myself from looking away.

I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible, failing apparantly as he chuckled at me in that way he did. The crooked grin on his face saying more than he'd said in any conversation between us. That smile always held secrets.

"I came back to give you something," he began," a souvenir from my travels." He went back to looking at the posters. Staring at them as if taking in some hidden meaning from their images. He did always seem to see some unseen message in everything. You can always learn more the second time around.

"Where have you been?" My voice gave way again. Again i was just the little brother of the infinitely talented Lamont Caldwell. asking questions i couldnt understand the answers to; trying to follow him on his oh-so mysterious adventures. Hed only been in front of me two minutes and hed sent me back 20 years. Again i was a scared and confused 4 year old.

"Dont worry about it. Everything will make sense soon. I told you a long time ago that i had to leave to really discover what it was i was meant to do. There was a purpose for me outside of what our parents had told us for so long." He crossed the room silently towards me, darkening the the floor in wet muddy footprints along the way. He kept eye contact the whole way, that orb of an eye boring into me."Theres a reason for all of this Marion, and i think ive finally found out what it is."

That eye paralyzed me. I was only aware of it because every muscle in my body wanted to back away, to run to my room and lock the door. It felt like minutes passed between each of his steps, like a dream carrying him to me in slow motion.

Stop stop stopstopstop.

He was inches from me now. Eyes still excavating my soul. As i looked into his, though, i could only see the boundlessness of his darkness. He was still an enigma to me; a shadows shadow. Of all the people id known in my life my brother had known me the best, and yet id never felt as if i truly understood him. Now, though, i felt as if i knew what he was thinking. If only for these few seconds.

Slowly, as if his body questioned his own actions, he wrapped his arms around me. His embrace reminded me of dads hugs. He was strong, but gentle. An embrace filled with the love of a long overdue apology. At least thats how i took it.

I accepted it and hugged him back. We stood that way for ten long heartbeats, the seconds passing lazily. I heard a sniffle and questioned for a second if it was him or me that had started crying, but couldnt turn over the thought before he said so low i almost questioned if hed spoken.

" Dont let our secrets burn you."

I felt my face contort in confusion before he ended the embrace. As i opened my mouth to speak the door to a room behind me opened, the noise startling me as it broke the tense silence.

I jumped and turned to see my roommate billie exiting her room in her hot pink bathrobe. Hair tousled, expression caught between annoyance and confusion. Shed just woken from a satifyingly deep sleep.

" dude. Have you seriously been out here watching harry potter this whole time? I know we said wed watch them all straight through but you had to realize that was a suicide run. Go the fuck to sleep. We both have work tomorrow." She shuffled past me to the kitchen turning on the light and then the faucet.

As she filled a cup with water i scanned the room for my brother. He was gone. His absence left a hole in the room, a void of energy where he should have been, but that could have been me projecting.

Of course.

Just like him to come raising a million questions and leave answering none of them.

How the hell did he get in?

I shook the thought out of my head, only then remembering what id come to the livingroom for in the first place. I began to pick up the room, the aftermath of an attempt at a pre-thanksgiving break movie marathon. It was supposed to be an all nighter. Unfortunately, the mixture of wine intoxication and primo bud had most of the participants passing out in their seats before the third movie started.

I picked up the candy wrappers and swept the loose tobacco into the trash. Only seeing the, clearly out of place, bound leather book when i cleared the pizza boxes from the table. This must have been that souvenir he was talking about.

It was dark brown, almost black, and encircled in thick metal bindings. An archaic iron-looking latch and lock protruded from the front. I wasnt sure how he expected me to open this book or if he expected me to.

I turned it over inspecting it more closely. Even in the dim light i could see the textblock was lined in silver. It glow eerily and reminded me somewhat of a bible.

On the back was a post it note:

Hold on to this. See you soon. -L

I rolled my eyes and tucked the book under my left arm. Its not like i hadnt seen my brother in almost 2 years, at least he gave me a completely useless gift too.

Billie crossed back into her den warning me to not make any loud noises on pain of death, which i obliged. I quickly finished straightening the room and headed back down the hall to my own bed. I tossed the book onto my dresser and collapsed under the weight of the night onto my pillow, not even bothering to cover myself with the comforter. The questions still swirling around my head settled in my skull as sleep took me.

As i drifted into the land of dreams a single thought peeked back through the veil before being silenced by the void of unconciousness.

How the hell did he get in?