#this one was really fun!! kind of came at me spur of the moment

[tunastime]

Hey if your still doing the comfort fic thing can you do collection of hoodies with Ranchers? (You don't have to)

HI!! Took me a little to get to this one! Kind of based on the prompt rather than directly verbatim, but I hope you enjoy!

the collection of stolen hoodies (758 words) (x)

The slightly sticky, summer breeze blows warm across the rolling hills of the server. Despite the humidity, the wind offers a much needed reprieve from the still, stagnant air of the mines, and, shaking the water out of his hair still, is managing to dry Tango off as well. He easily rinsed a majority of the soot and grime from his hair and along his exposed arms, scrubbed black soot from his cheeks. Now, stripped down to his cargo pants and socks, Tango lies in the grass, his and Jimmy’s laundry out to dry. He’s spent a large portion of the afternoon clipping it carefully to the hastily constructed clothesline. It waved in the breeze, casting a shadow across his vision every now and again.

Despite this, Tango lies comfortably in the midday light, eyes shut. At some point he turns to dry his back, feeling the heat along his spine and the base of his tail. The grass is soft here, clover and fescue and dotted wildflowers over the hill, stretching further than what Tango can see with part of his face crushed into the soft earth. He lets his eyes shut for a moment, letting the wind and sun dry him off the best it can.

After a moment, Tango stretches, feeling his muscles pull as he twists his neck and pillows his arms under his head. If he’s going to get anything done today besides napping in the sun, much to his rancher’s chagrin, he should probably collect their laundry and give it a good shake before bringing it inside.

Peeling himself from the grass, Tango stands slowly. He stretches his arms above his head, twists back and forth to relieve some of the tension in his back. Scratching dully at his hair, strands still wet between his fingers, he wanders over to the clothesline, still padding barefoot through the soft grass and stepping stones. Most of the clothes are thoroughly dry as Tango begins to tug them from the line, but, notably, his sweater is damp at the fringes and the sleeves where chunks of shade block it from the midday sun. The humidity’s certainly to blame too, making the air ever so slightly damp as it blows through.

Tango frowns. On the line is Jimmy’s overshirt. It’s dry at every edge, and aside from being stiff from its line dry, it’s in perfectly good condition, and much too large for Tango to worry about stretching it out. Tango runs a thumb over the seam at the bottom, worrying the hem between his fingers. A good shake would get the stiffness out. Surely Jimmy wouldn’t mind if it went missing for a part of the afternoon at the behest of Tango’s decency, right? 

Plucking it carefully from the line, Tango tugs the shirt around him. It keeps some of the wind off his back and the sun even moreso, despite the fact that he’s more littered with freckles than he’d ever though he would be in his life. It also smells, still, a little like wheat and grass and smoke, and Tango sighs against the shoulder he’s brought up to sniff and closes his eyes. 

He’s addled for a moment with the idea of Jimmy trying to fit into his sweater in retaliation, and blinks his eyes open. The image of him trying to weasel his big arms in and stretching the fabric out. Tango was by no means tiny, but Jimmy was. Broad. For lack of a better term. Fitting into Tango’s clothes would be a feat deserving of an award. Tango snorts, rolling his shoulders. Maybe one day he could make them a sweater that fit both of them. Which really meant it would fit Jimmy first and Tango by extension—but regardless. It could be theirs. He could make a whole collection of them. Then they could really be set, and Tango could live out his life stealing clothes from Jimmy whenever he wanted to. Yeah. That sounded like a good plan.

A cheesy one, but one he was letting himself have, because, hey, he was feeling sentimental, and Jimmy had finally come to visit, and he was allowed to be happy to see him again, just as he did anyone else. Sighing to himself, Tango folds the rest of the clothes over one arm. Satisfied with the state of their dryness, he takes them, and himself, inside. He should at least give them a good shake and a nice fold before he started thinking about making any new clothes.

[red-doll-face]

Heeyyy! Soooo I have a fun request idea that I totally came up with on my own with no help from anybody else, from my own mind and not some super creative person that answered my question about Arthur proposing to reader 🤣 it goes something like this:

-takes three months to work up the nerve and like another one to pick out one ring.

-chickens out at least two times bc the moment isn't right

-asks Hosea for advice 19 times (Hosea is tired)

-he's the trope where reader starts crying and he's like ohh goddd i fucked up of course you don't wanna marry my ass

-the way he would ride around for a week looking for the perfect spot to do it

-marks it on his map with a heart

-the essays he would write in his journal about this situation

-he's so cute i love him pls marry me Arthur Morgan

-awww once you say yes??

Hehehehe no pressure though!!!!! I just looooovvvveeeee this idea so much!

Yes !!! Yes of course I’ll write this!!! ❤️❤️💕💕🥰🥰😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩As always it ended up running really long even though I didn’t even really flesh out a back story. 🥲 I’m glad you enjoyed my response ☺️☺️ I definitely had high honor Arthur Morgan in mind for this when I read it, I hope it’s ok and that you like it!!! I was so happy to see you in my inbox !!! @zae-heeyyy 💓💓💓💓💓 writing this was so cathartic and I loved the rdr1 setting so much so that I made this pre black water heist or whatever 😭🫶 from Arthur’s pov hope you like the characterization 🥹

Tags: established relationship, marriage proposals?? Arthur being a major weenie. Like huge weenie. He is soooo sooo sweet it’s almost like too much and I love love love sweet Arthur so very fluffy!!!! Pre black water !! Dutch being a jerk 😒 but cute dad Hosea moments ☺️

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur knows he’s made up his mind when he’s in the tailor’s shop in Blackwater, looking like a lowdown cattle rustler among all of the fancy fabrics on the wall. He and his spurs, his boots scuffed to hell and a leather satchel slung over his chest. He’s out of place and he knows it. But he’s here to buy a new shirt.

Yesterday, he had nearly driven himself insane looking for a shirt of his that wasn’t ruined, ripped and mended, dirty, stained irreparably. None of them were good enough for what he wanted, something nice to get down on one knee and ask his girl to marry him. And so he kissed you goodbye and rode into town in search of something better. He makes an effort at pretending to be interested in any of the fancy stuff, silk and linen suits that he sure will never be fitted for him. He clears his throat as the attendant drags his eyes away from the sunday paper.

A tight lipped smile consumes the man's face. Arthur already can sense the assumptions he’s getting but he pays little mind to it. He’s getting this shirt and that's that.

“How can I help you, sir?” Obnoxious and nasally, the thin and short man's voice already gives away his air of superiority. Arthur's eyes narrow but he isn’t too irritated yet.

“Here to get a shirt.” His words are simple. The attendant raises a brow.

“Just a shirt, not… pants or shoes?” the attendant lowers the paper to scan over the rest of Arthur’s clothes. Arthur can hardly ignore the burn of insecurity.

He gives a look that conveys how quickly he is losing his patience. “Excuse me?” He can only tell his posture changed when he observes the man's attitude change, clinging to the counter between them like it would make any difference.

“No, well sir, perhaps I’ve overstepped, I apologize. What kind of-of shirts were you thinking?”

“Listen, I ain’t here to cause no trouble, just show me what you’ve got,” The attendant hurries to show him some options, tries to sell him a vest but that isn’t happening with his budget.

In the end, he picks a blue french dress shirt. Costs a real pretty penny but he wants it to be special. Because you’re special. He stuffs it away in a saddlebag after thanking the attendant, who no doubt heaves a sigh of relief after he leaves.

-

He’s been collecting rings. In a special bag is a collection. A few plain gold bands, some with stones set in them. They’re pretty blue and red gems, some have filigree detailing. But he still can’t find the right one.

Worse then, is that they’re rings of all different sizes which he gets from his more sordid activities. Debt collecting or train robberies. It’s all stolen goods. It feels wrong to give you something like that but when he told Dutch his intentions, he clapped him on the back and told him to look in the collection box for more rings. He nodded then but it was half hearted. Somehow that was more souring. Did he really want to give you something he took from someone else? That someone else bought for their loved one with the express purpose of giving them something to symbolize how they loved each other? His own thoughts swirl circles in his head, why he had these scruples about it, he didn’t know.

It’s riding with Hosea that he asks for advice. They’ve been working on a job in Tumbleweed, trying to con some poor fool into giving money he shouldn’t by pretending to sell land deeds. They ride all the way from the yellow grasses of Hennigan’s Stead and it’s been mostly quiet over the stretch of passing though Armadillo. Arthur decides to speak up after they pass through town. The sun is beginning to dip a bit lower in the sky but they’ll be in Tumbleweed before then.

“I been-”

“This about you n’ the girl?” Hosea already has a knowing smile and Arthur rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should do it! You two would make quite the couple, she’s a sweetheart, that girl,”

“Yeah, she-she’s… I’ve been lookin’ at rings to give ‘er,” He grips the reins before going lax, riding easily along the path. Hosea murmurs, letting Arthur continue. He guides Boadicea down the dusty road. “I don’t think I wanna give her something I got robbin’, don’t seem right,”

“Then get her something new, I don’t think she’ll mind at all. But you do what you think you should. You could probably fence all the other rings you thought about and get her something quite nice with the cash,”

“Yeah, I could do that,” why hadn't he thought of that?

“That’s a wonderful thing, getting married. Don’t be afraid to, y’know, go through with it. If you’re thinkin’ about it. Maybe, once Dutch and I find the perfect spot for the gang to settle down, we’ll build you two your own little thing on the land,”

“You that confident she’ll say yes?” Arthur has an awkward and disbelieving laugh but Hosea keeps his earnest smile.

“Why wouldn’t she? Arthur, somehow, she has gone for a man like you, you should be over the moon, you should be whistling tunes everywhere you go,”

“Like me? What's that supposed to mean?” He knows what he means. A man like him had very little to offer you, a young woman who could easily charm some other well established man into giving you a home. Leagues away from his cot and the weathered canvas he put up to give you some small amount of privacy.

“You remember what happened with that Mary woman. This time, things oughta turn out better. This one’s got no old man to chase you around with a shotgun,” Hosea figures himself very funny and laughs, ending it with a shallow cough. Arthur furrows his brows.

Of course he reminded him of his disaster with Mary. He could never escape that woman, even when he severed ties with her. But how he had wanted to, especially with you. Yes, it was true, he had loved Mary. But now he loves you. He needs you. His idea of the rest of his life always includes you, laying in bed with him, gently stroking his chest, leaving him love notes in his satchel, telling him what happened in the camp while he was gone. He always listens, always wakes up smiling with you tucked under his arm.

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

“Good, because you’ll forget about her soon enough. Month from now, I suppose. Where are you going to tell her?”

“Where? I didn’t think we was gonna go nowhere, just tell her when I was ready to…” he hadn’t even imagined a place when he first set out to do this.

“So you wanna propose; with Uncle standing behind her, drunk off his ass in just his soiled union suit?”

“I-”

“Take her somewhere special, somewhere to make her feel special! Women like to feel special, Arthur, you know that,”

“I do?” He says, with a sarcastic edge to his voice, though he tries on his attempt at sounding uninvested.

“You should. I didn’t do that enough. I should have before, well…” Arthur nods, bowing his head a little as if in remembrance. He hopes to always have you by his side. Otherwise he would be much like Hosea: carrying a torch for a woman who passed through his life too quickly.

-

He starts his journey looking for something special. Special like you are. Keeps his eye out, marking potential things in his map, and makes a list in his journal. Aurora Basin maybe, a pretty lake deep in the forest but getting attacked by bears doesn’t sound romantic in any way. There are some sweeping vistas overlooking the San Luis River in Rio Bravo. He isn’t quite sure about anything though, thinking it over deeply. He just wants things to be perfect.

He’s still thinking about it when he comes back to camp, close to Lake Don Julio, sighing. Thinking much too hard obviously, he doesn’t notice that you’re sitting on his bed, biting your nail nervously until you see him first. You look worried, happy to see him but worried. You stand, hugging your arms around yourself and then placing them on your hips to make you seem more upset but you just drop them when he’s close enough.

“Hey, darlin’,” He utters, opening his arms to give you a hug but you just look up at him. He drops them, mentally kicking himself before taking his hat off and sitting down on his bed.

“Arthur, you’ve been gone three days,”

“I know,” you’re disappointed in his answer. You take a breath and a pause, looking off to the right. He stares down at his scuffed and weather worn boots. He hates to disappoint you, hates when you’re upset. It takes a lot to get you there, too. You’re a forgiving soul when he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He looks away, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have chewed those leather boots up to bits.

“You know. I asked everyone where you were and they didn’t know,”

“Honey, I ain’t gonna leave you, I’m not-”

“You leave other men out of this, Arthur,” you already predicted he’d bring another man’s failings to make up for his own. Maybe bringing up John’s shortcomings while you’re upset is a little below the belt but it worked better in his head. He puffs some air out in a laugh. God, he just can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Is something funny? Is how much-how much I worry funny to you?” You look like you’re gonna cry, squeezing your arms tight around yourself. Your eyes flick around, thinking of all the people watching, never any goddamn privacy in this place. You start to back up, looking for a place to hide your tears.

“No, no, I- I’m sorry, don’t go walkin’ away,” You let him pull you back. Let him tug you into his lap. You sniff and tuck into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says at least 5 more times. His hands pet down your hair, holding you. He hadn’t wanted to come back to such a harrowing fear in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you walking off without him. He thinks himself lucky that you haven’t had enough of him and decided to leave already.

Arthur pulls you in real tight, doesn’t let up til’ you start to calm down a little. “Shouldn’t cry for me, sweet girl, bastard like me ain’t worth them tears,” he wipes a few away. Seeing you like this could make him cry if he thought about it too much, how he had let you down. His nerves almost make him tremble, the slightest shake in his fingers when he brushes them under your eyes, shiny with tears. If anyone else made you cry, he’d knock their teeth out. But what is he supposed to do when it’s him? Sickness roils around his abdomen.

“Where were you, anyway?” You shake your head at his words. “Mac and Davey said…” he perks up at that. Those boys are a terror. His face screws up in an anticipated anger. He’d be angrier with them, they’re the ones who need to see it, not you.

“What’d they say?”

“No, they were just messing with me. I don’t think it’s true,” You look away. But he knows exactly how nasty those boys can be. He gives you a look and you give him a defeated one in return. An embarrassment leaks into your words. You can’t meet his eyes, twiddling your fingers.

“They said you were at the saloon in town. They said things that aren’t true and I know it but it isn’t nice to leave me here with nothing to say about it,”

“I know, darlin’, next time, you’ll be the first to know where I’m goin’,” You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he pats your back, grabs your thigh so he can pull you to sit across his lap fully.

“Are you gonna answer my question or should I take their word?” you tease and he reassures you about those boys. They’ll be hearing from him soon enough.

“I’m gonna have a word with them, don’t worry about it,” he scratches his beard. How is he supposed to say that he went riding around looking for a place to take you so he can ask you to take his sorry hand in marriage? He had already disappointed you and saying it’s a secret is a laughable idea.

“Well, I was out, uhh- huntin’?” You frown and lean away.

“Arthur, you’re an awful hunter and an awful liar,” you look really hurt. You almost stand but he pulls you back. He needs something to tell you and fast.

“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ real special to give you. It’s supposed to be a surprise…but well, I can’t keep no secrets from you, sweetheart,” You fuss a little, a wariness in your posture. You study his expression. It isn’t a complete lie, makes it a bit easier to pull off. He really does have a surprise for you. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch up when yours do to, a small smile shining through the clouds of your emotional turmoil.

“What surprise?”

“I didn’t find it, guess a surprise, it’s gonna have to stay,” You pout and wiggle, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Ok, but once you find it, you better take me to see it right away,” You kiss him, soft and sweet, holding his prickly jaw in one hand. He can feel how your pout gives way to a smile. The feeling of your soft lips on his is one of those things he’ll never get sick of, never get over.

“I will, promise,”

-

He’s found the perfect ring, really, by chance. It’s a little thing but it’s the right color, goes well with you. The rock on it isn’t very big but he saw it in a window while in town. Some big fancy jewelry store, showing off all the finer things that he never paid any mind to. Unless it was to steal it of course. But he had bought it. With money that may have been also robbed but it was from hitting a Del Lobo stash. A good deed, probably in a backwards sense.

The girls had ‘oohed’ at it, Mary-Beth had an excited tiny clap and Tilly rejoiced. Jenny nodded with a small smile.

“We’re happy for you Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur Morgan, gettin’ married…” Tilly giggles, putting her hands to her cheeks and clasping her hands in front of the skirt of her yellow dress.

Karen laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day,”

“Don’t listen to her, I mean we was hoping when we saw you two huddled up all the time,” Mary-Beth takes the ring from him, holding it closer, so that Jenny and Tilly can get a closer look.

“Hey, be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to sound too desperate. He scratches his neck instead of snatching it back like his instinct wants him to. Evening is coming soon, purple dusk and soft coyote yipping and howling far in the distance marks the sun's descent. Meaning you’re probably finishing up whatever it is you’re doing. He hopes you don’t come around the corner at an inopportune time. Arthur turns his head this way and that.

“Where’d you get it? Looks new, ain’t scuffed to high heaven like everything else around here,” Jenny points out and the girls nod.

“Bought it in town,” playing it off doesn’t work so well.

They ‘ooh’ some more. “Fancy. Only the best for Arthur’s sweetheart,” Karen coos teasingly.

“Gimme that,” grumbling, he takes the ring back, bowing his head so they can’t see the embarrassment plain on his face. He meanders off after asking how things have been. Of course, they only give him updates about you, Karen jokes that that’s all he wants to hear about anyway. He scoffs and wishes them a good evening.

But the perfect spot is yet to be discovered. Evades him like just about nothing else. He almost gives up on the idea. He’s been taking you out, trying to get you in the almost perfect moments. Taking you out on the town in Blackwater was a good time, he bought you dinner and took you on a stroll down the cobbled streets, watching your face light up when you saw something pretty in a window, clutching his hand and pulling him in more. He almost proposed on the veranda at the Blackwater saloon. Only for a fight to break out at the poker table to interrupt.

Then he took you out to see the poppy fields in Great Plains. But he had let his anxiousness and his nerves overtake him. He had tucked the ring away. You had looked so beautiful standing among the flowers, it was perfect but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he wrote in his journal about his own cowardice. Wrote about if he should lock you to him for the rest of your life. If he’d end up leaving you a widow. Or if you were to be taken from him like Annabelle and Bessie. Leaving behind lonely men who longed for a woman gone from this world. Then he scribbled pictures of you, trying to draw the motion in your hair and in your dress and the beaming most enchanting smile he had ever seen.

Boadicea munched on the long wheat grass, waving in the wind while he kept a watchful eye on you, picking flowers in your pretty dress fluttering against the bright blue of the sky. You have a bunch of candy orange poppy flowers held together by your palms, a bright smile on your face. You walk to where he sits, leaning against the tree, next to a small broken down stone fence. Your smile falters when you see his pensive expression. You come close enough to touch. You dangle one flower above him before you tuck it into the frayed ropes banded around the crown of his hat. He lowers his head while you fuss. Smiling like a fool. You smile again too, sitting beside him. You both listen to the sound of the quiet plains, breeze in the branches above him. The shade is cool, light filters beautifully over your features, speckled like the back of a doe.

“Something has been going on with you, Arthur,” you state as pure fact, knowing him all too well. You had only really known each other a year and have only been together as a couple for six months but you knew him better than anyone else. You had let him be himself, let him just…be. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand him.

“I’ve just been… thinkin’ bout some things,”

“Really? I thought you said you weren’t very good at that,” you smile a little, nudging his shoulder. Hoping to lift his spirits with his similar brand of humor but when he hardly huffs a laugh, you frown. “Is it about you and me?”

“Yeah, in a way,” he says, unable to hide anything from you. Why should he bother? Saying no would make you more suspicious. Arthur closes his eyes and can feel the panic rising in you. He could have been better about saying it but he’s quick to deflect it away from his secret. “You happy with me?” low and grumbled, the severity makes his tone go way down.

“I don’t understand. Do I not seem happy? Arthur, I’ve never…I’ve never been happier than I am with you. You’re the kind of man any girl would be lucky to have,” You smile, leaning to face him. Softening up, your eyes track over his face.

He wanted to ask you right then and there. Tell you just how much you complete him. How lucky he was to have you, how there never was a happier time in his life. He doesn’t believe in that sentiment you have, he had failed the women in his life. But he had wanted to make a vow, to never leave you alone. It’s his own nerves that wrap tight around his hands, don’t let him reach in his satchel for the little treasure that will be your wedding ring.

“No, I just know I been gone, I don’t wanna ignore you. I just been busy,”

“You have things to do,” You sigh heavily. “I wish the other men would be as helpful as you. Sometimes, I watch Sean, Uncle, and Bill lay around all day while you’re out working. It doesn’t seem fair,” Your brows pinch in a small dissatisfaction with the idea. He smirks.

“I don’t know how much I trust Sean to get things done right. We’d probably eat nothin’ but leaded rabbit meat and whiskey if we left it up to that boy,” You giggle and nod. Happy to see him back in his joking mood.

“Arthur… You know I love you, don’t you?” God, those words make him shiver. Make his heart rattle in his chest. Could swear his insides turn about 3 times. So sweet, you look at him, hands on his thighs, leaning into his side. He opens his arm for you to tuck into, grabbing your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, I do. Love you more,” he can feel heat flush up his neck and cheeks but he doesn’t care if he looks like a lovesick idiot. Your joy is worth it. The wind blows your hair over your shoulder, you let him sweep it back some more. Your pretty laugh when he bows over to lay you down on the grass makes him chuckle.

-

He’s finally found it. Montana Ford. A shallow spot in the river he discovered, looking for a short cut trying to cross from New Austin into West Elizabeth. He hated riding through the Del Lobo populated Thieves Landing, especially after they were catching on that it was Dutch and his boys robbed their stash two weeks ago. He sighed and then he veered off the road, looking for somewhere to cross. And the shaded river was perfect.

He stays there a moment, looking at the pretty grass growing alongside the water, the light glittering over the surface. The sound of the river rushing by fills his head pleasantly. You’d love it, you’d toss your boots aside and wade into the river, lifting your skirts high enough to hopefully not get wet. But you’d be wet anyway. He’d do it too, you made him feel like he was twenty despite his thirty some years on this earth.

He decides to sit and sketch it and write about you. Just how excited he was at how everything was coming together. He feels like a kid, sappy but too devoted to care very much at the small heart he puts on his map. He’s almost embarrassed of himself. Even with no one to see. He folds his map up and stuffs his journal away, whistling his horse over. With a soft word or two, he mounts up and continues on to his destination.

-

It's been three days since he found the spot he would take you to and he’s had a ring in his satchel that glares up at him every time he opens it to pull out a cigarette. Of course, just as everything comes together, Dutch insists he go scouting for some new venture, looking to follow a treasure hunter so they could rob him. It ends up being a whole lot of nothing from a bad tip but Dutch has a ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ speech to try and lick his own wounds at Arthur’s expense. Arthur rolls his eyes. Feels his hands knot into fists.

“Maybe next time, it’ll be you runnin’ all over New Austin on some wild goose chase! And I’ll give you this bullshit. Wouldn’t that be just fine, wasting your goddamn time-”

“Arthur, calm down! I don’t have time for your complaining. Where is that girl of yours? Why don’t you blow some of that steam off with her? It’s obvious to me-”

“Dutch…stop pushing the boy,” Hosea remarks from where he’s reading a book nearby. Arthur postures to continue arguing and Dutch shoots a glare before waving him off. He looks to Hosea and backs away, huffing. But before he can go for a smoke to hopefully calm himself down so he could be with you, Hosea calls him over.

“So… have you popped the question?”

“No, I ain’t got time most days,” He sighs in defeat, dropping his weight on the seat next to him, resting on his knees, leaned over. He takes his hat off to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He hadn’t seen you in another two days on account of this stupid ploy to rob a treasure hunter who didn’t know left from right and east from west. What an idiot. But not nearly as foolish as he.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Dutch to leave you out of these plots of his. I’ll even tell Miss Grimshaw that she’ll be gone. Take her and ride away for a couple of days. I hope to see a ring on her finger when you get back. In fact, I’ll be expecting it!” Hosea has a smile on his face, the excitement is genuine. Arthur nods.

“And what if she says no?”

“Well you keep at it. Perhaps a little persistence is all you need but why do you insist on imagining the worst?” It’s as if after asking, he considers why Arthur might not want to change things irreparably, might have already put his heart on the line and had it thrown away before.

“Arthur, the sting of rejection must be pretty…pretty lamentable. But you wouldn’t be trying this hard if you really thought you didn’t have a good chance,” Hosea sets his book down. “Go get some rest… leave first thing in the morning,” Hosea pats Arthur lightly on his shoulder. Arthur looks up as Hosea wanders in the direction of his tent.

His heart does yearn to see you at his side, wearing his ring on your finger. To hear you referred to as Mrs. Morgan. But all he can see is an incredulous look on your face. ‘Marry? Me? Arthur, you must be joking,’ you laugh and laugh. You’d never be so cruel but whatever part of him hates his own guts imagines the scenarios with great fervor. The anger from the rest of his day and the anger at himself grit against each other. He growls low before marching off to his tent.

You’re already inside, looking very lovely, one of his mended shirts serving as something of a robe to wear over your underthings. You look up and smile. He could forget the whole world just by looking at you. You hum, scooting over in bed.

“Arthur…” the way you call his name, you hardly need to give him any pet names, just Arthur will do.

“Come out with me tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” He states. More like a command, the residual anger drips off his words. You look at him strangely.

“Alright but I’d like to know what all of this is about first,” You set whatever you were working on, perhaps brushing your hair as you set a horsehair brush aside. You give him a concerned look.

“Found that surprise,” he grumbles, sitting down and tugging his boots off. “Hope you’ll like it but…” he stops to tug his gun belt off, his suspenders too. Arthur rests his hat gently on the side table. “Can’t be too sure til I show it to ya,��� You smile softly.

“I think if you think I like it, I’ll love it,” God, he hopes so. Anticipation bounces around in his head and in his lungs. He’s practically short of breath. How he’s going to sleep, he has no idea.

“Yeah?” you hum in agreement. Looking sleepy, he’s endeared by how your eyes blink slowly, how you wiggle onto his chest the second he lays down. Your hands rub down his chest and belly. You’re asleep in a matter of minutes. He almost wishes he had you for company still but he’d never wake you for something so selfish. Instead, he pets down your hair and listens to your breathing, the natural hush that covers the camp once it’s too late for much of anything but small chatter.

-

Like clockwork, he wakes early. He can’t remember falling asleep but you're softly murmuring, you won’t wake unless he expressly wakes you. He gives himself time to put on that shirt he bought and rub his hand over his face at how nervous and silly he feels buttoning it up. He pulls a jacket over it to hopefully hide how ridiculous he looks. The morning is a pale blue when he steps out, thinking to bring you coffee to wake you.

You dress, half asleep, when he comes back to you, humming into the cup he brought you. You wear something nice but not overstated. You put kisses on him to wish him a good morning after you’ve decided you’re cleaned up enough.

He helps you up on his horse, Boadicea already very used to you. The ride isn’t too bad and you certainly make it better, he’s quiet with nerves, responding as much as he can without getting lost in his thoughts. The sun has climbed up and blazed down on you for a while by the time you get there. But your face when you see his surprise is too precious, eager to slip off the back of his horse.

“Arthur, it’s so beautiful!” The summer sun is high in the sky, perfect for your plans as you tug your boots off. He ambles after you, hitching his horse to a tree. You’re already sighing and knee deep in the center of the river. Your stockings lay haphazardly tossed over your boots. You’re some fabled creature, come from somewhere else. He could see it. No woman shined like you did, at least not how he saw things.

Just like he imagined, he rolls his pants up and tosses his boots aside, the spurs jingle when they hit the ground. The light catches the river’s surface, shades of yellow and green, the earth's gentle brown. You’re excited to see him join you, taking his hand that he holds out to you, pressed to his belly and chest, just where you belong.

“You like it, sweetheart?” He mumbles, really fishing for compliments. He knows you do but he’d love to hear you say it.

“I love it, Arthur, how could you say I wouldn’t? Sometimes, you’re a silly man,” you laugh, sway with him in the river. Birds sing, the water is cool, it’s perfect. He pulls you up to a shallower part of the ford, the sun forms a halo around you, reminds him you’re pure heaven and he couldn’t let you go.

“I have something else for you,” his voice is shaky instead of the easy confidence he likes to portray himself as. You look up excitedly but the dazzling smile slips off your face, you're shocked as he pulls a ring from his satchel and kneels down in the river.

“I-uhhh…I-“ he had really planned all of this and didn’t think of a single word to say. He can't bear to look up, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. “I haven’t loved…anyone like I love you,” the ring looks tiny and pathetic in his fingers. They’re also calloused to hell but he continues anyway. “There ain’t anyone else for me in this world but you. I just wish I was a better man, you deserve more than I can give but… if you would have me,” he looks up and your hands cover your mouth and tears leak over your fingers.

He really had ruined everything, hadn’t he? How was he supposed to go on living with you? What would he tell Hosea? His face falls and his heart cracks but he’d be glad to take you back home and disappear for a few days.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, don’t know what I thought,”

“Arthur, just please…” you hold out your left hand. You wipe your tears, trying to compose yourself and when he sees your smile, your hand over your right cheek, he lets himself ease. “Nothing would make me happier than to be- to be your wife, Arthur, you are…you’re the best man I know,” you wiggle your fingers excitedly and he slips the ring over your ring finger. He stays stunned, kneeled in the water, his pants soaking it all up but he couldn’t care less.

The ring looks so perfect on you. He holds your hand, kissing it like a knight of old, looking at him down on his knee, still crying but that brightness in your eyes is all he needs. Your giggle makes him smile at you too. And you drop to embrace him, tucking into his chest, arms around his neck. You murmur his name, rub his back. Tangle your fingers in his hair. He settles with you, surrounded by your unmistakable presence, basking in it. Holds you tighter, trying to not squeeze the air out of you. He breathes you in, holding you through your overwhelmed clinging, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

You pull back a little, enough to kiss him, his relief is groaned into your mouth. He loses track of himself and slips, sitting in a river with you in his arms, giggling more into his kiss.

You sit with him on the banks, trying to dry out after he tipped over. So much for his fancy shirt. He thinks the both of you will look half drowned by the time he brings you back to camp but he isn’t sure he wants to go back. Just you and him for a few days sounds rather enticing. You keep looking at your ring, leaned into his shoulder. A pleased little smile blooms over your face. How can he not smile at how beautiful you look, hair wet at the ends, warm light casting its glow over you.

You look up at him, with a look that says you’re gonna cry again but you just give him a teary smile.

“I’m a lucky bastard, get to call you mine,” You wrap one tiny hand over his neck when you kiss him slow and deep, letting him consume the very air in your lungs, grip over your body to feel it. You moan just softly enough to pull on his need for you. But you part ways for you to continue.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” you give him a sad frown. As if upset that he would think such a thing of you. You brush your fingers against his skin. He looks away.

“You wouldn’t have been the first,” you sigh.

“Who could say no to Arthur Morgan?” You ask no one in particular but he huffs a small laugh.

“Many people,” a joking tone tinges his words. But then he dips towards the sentimental. “Don’t even remember, really, all I think about is you, darlin’…” You laugh before coming closer, unable and unwilling to part from him. He knows he’s a hundred and one percent sap but he lets himself melt in your presence.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” you wiggle your left hand in his face. He chuckles a little at your cute little fingers. “I’m glad…it means I get you all to myself,” The joy is boundless in his chest, he could light the night like a lightning bug with the flame in his heart.

“Arthur, I… I… sometimes I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you,” you lean onto him. He shakes his head with what he’s sure looks like a stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t sure this would be in the cards for him but here he is, with you.

“Every part of me loves you, honey,” is all he has to say, paling in comparison to the pure power of your own words over him. They tumble clumsily from his mouth but you pull him down for kisses anyway. Your teasing ‘do you?’ has him nodding between your giggles and wet kisses.

-

Thank you so much for leaving me this request, I loved writing it!! It was so much fun and I really had fun including some parts of rdr1 map that were really special to me and brought me back to when I was a kid playing that game 🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️ any feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading 🥰🫶

[roesworks]

to be treated right.

osamu dazai x female reader

summary : hes going to finish what your boyfriend couldn’t

warnings : nsfw, implied cheating (but they’re doing it safely don’t worry), oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, dazai is slightly out of character kind of?

+ aftercare because yes

word count : i’ll count tomorrow

your boyfriend was an absolute greedy bastard.

sex wasn’t fun anymore, your boyfriend ruined it for you. he seemed to always do it for his own personal gain rather than pleasuring you, and that pissed you off more than anything. what the hell did you do to deserve this?

well, the answer to that was nothing, because you weren’t doing anything wrong. your boyfriend was the equivalent of a hookup; he always got to finish, yet you were left there, naked, uncomfortable… you were so tired of it.

not to mention, your boyfriend had a shitty personality as well. how did you fall in love with him in the first place? you really had no idea. you didn’t like him anymore. hell, you pretty much despised him, not just for the sex aspect, but for the fact that he was just a dick.

you found yourself sitting on your bed again, post sex, wet but unable to come. as your boyfriend left your shared apartment to go out with a few friends, you began to sob hysterically, reaching for your phone out of desperation. you needed someone to help you out more than anything, but who were you going to call?

well, there was a man at the establishment you worked at who was absolutely head over heels for you. he knew you had a boyfriend, and he knew that your boyfriend was a terrible person, (he often questioned why a sweet, pretty girl like you was dating an awful, awful man like him) especially since you often came to him about your problems with him. maybe this was the perfect time to give him what he wanted.

osamu dazai was at work when he got your phone call. he smirked, lifting it to his ear.

“good evening, ‘bella-” he frowned as you cried to him over the phone. how shitty of a person can one be to constantly leave your girlfriend alone and uncomfortable?

“please, osamu, i need you so badly right now. it hurts so much, please.”

who was he to deny?

“i’ll be there, ‘bella.” and he hung up the phone. what seemed like less than five minutes later, there was a knock on your door, and footsteps walking towards your bedroom. when he opened the door, there you were: naked, crying, and uncomfortable.

“please, osamu, please,” you mumbled under your breath. his heart crushed at each and every sob that uttered through your poor, pouty lips. osamu leaned in to kiss you, tugging at your hair slightly as he pushed your naked body backwards onto the bed. you tug at his shirt, slipping it over his head, exposing his chest, stomach, and bandaged arms.

his lips went south, to your neck, your breasts, and finally in between your legs. he paused, looking up at you. “and you’re absolutely sure you want me to do this?” he asked. sure, he was absolutely thrilled to be here with you right now, but this could also be a spur of the moment decision on your part. though, you nodded ferociously in response.

“use your words, ‘bella.”

“yes, please i want you to do this, more than anything.” that was all osamu needed to hear. he began to press light kisses inside your thighs, tongue trailing around the inside of your cunt. you whimper at the touch. your boyfriend was no where near as good as he was.

osamu opened your legs wider, sticking two fingers inside of you while he simultaneously ate you out like a hungry dog. you gripped at his hair, the sensation flowing throughout your body. your legs were shaking, tears brimmed your eyes, god it felt so good to be treated right.

“mm osamu, please,” you repeated over and over again, his tongue going faster and faster, “please let me… osamu.”

boy, did he love when you screamed his name.

“yes, ‘bella, come.” legs shaking, you released into his mouth. he took as much as he could, swallowing it, and looking at you with lustful eyes. he crawled back on top of you, his lips pressing to your neck, leaving small lovebites in its wake. “if that bastard won’t mark you up, then i will,” he hushed with certainty against your neck. you weren’t opposed to it at all. frankly, you planned on ending it with him, anyway.

you felt your arms reach for his belt, loosening it and removing it from the loops of his pants. you slid his pants down and threw it on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. osamu was left in his underwear that had already formed a tent, and you could feel it against your thigh.

“mm osamu i need it. please.”

he chuckled lightly, bringing his lips to yours. “so needy f’me aren’t you, ‘bella? tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you.” you groaned lightly at his teasing.

“i need your cock, osamu, so badly. i want it more than anything!”

“more than anything, huh?” you agreed with more pleas, tugging at his underwear. he smirked and took them off in response, releasing his cock that flung against his stomach. you grabbed a condom from inside your nightstand, opening it and giving it to him. he rolled it onto his member, and laid back on top of you.

he grabbed your hands and held them above your head as he directed his cock towards your entrance. with no hesitation, he went inside of you. you whined with each thrust. “you feel… fuck… so good, ‘bella,” he said lightly, “you’re doing so well.” you loved his praise so unbelievably much, and each time he called you by that silly pet name, you melted. compared to your boyfriend, osamu was rather loud. you didn’t mind it at all; you preferred it, actually. at least then you didn’t have to question yourself if he was enjoying himself or not.

you continued to moan as he thrusted in and out of you. arms still above your head, he began nipping at your neck again. “i’m close, ‘bella,” he muttered. you whimpered his name in response. “i’m gonna… fuck.” but he didn’t stop. he wanted you to be first. after all, he was here for you.

“me… too…” you stammered out. you clenched your hands into fists, letting out another loud moan. “osamu…” and you felt yourself release. in turn, osamu did as well, stopping suddenly as you finished together. he released your wrists from his grip, and you cupped his cheeks, leaning in to kiss him again. you were so unbelievably grateful for him.

“let me clean you up, bella,” osamu climbed off of your bed and walked to your bathroom to start a bath. approaching you, he picked you up with strong arms and brought you to the bathtub, laying you down.

the water burned against your skin. not in the bad way, but rather a comforting way; a scalding hot bath was exactly what you needed.

“can you join me?” you asked, voice low and hoarse. he smiled and nodded, joining you in the bathtub. you leaned your head against his chest, sighing.

“i’m so grateful for you, you know,” you said softly. “you’re too nice. you didn’t have to come all this way.”

osamu hummed in response. “mm, i had to though. i can’t leave you at home by yourself in this state. it’s not very healthy, if you ask me. i’m doing your shitty boyfriend a favor.”

“i don’t want to be with him anymore.” your eyes began to well with tears. you’ve been with him for over three years. three long years of mistreatment, not just sexually, but emotionally as well. how could you have been so blind? why didn’t you end it with him sooner?

osamu sighed. he grabbed a bottle of shampoo, squirted some on his hands, and began to massage his fingers through your scalp. you sunk into his touch. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, ‘bella. no one’s forcing you to anything. if he’s mistreating you, then don’t bother sticking around. i don’t blame you at all for wanting to leave.”

“i don’t have anywhere to go.”

“you could stay with me-”

“-no i couldn’t possibly put you through all of that trouble.”

you felt him chuckle. “what trouble? all i’m offering is that you stay with me. where’s the harm in that?”

“i just… feel bad, is all.”

“well, don’t feel bad. i won’t let you. although, if you end up feeling so horrible about it, then we can commit a double suicide together. then we’ll both be happy.”

you laughed lightly. “of course, because your motivation in life is finding a beautiful woman to commit suicide with. don’t you have any other morals?”

“mm, morals are more kunikida’s thing.” he grabbed a cup and filled it with the bath water. “close your eyes.” you obeyed, and he dumped the water on your head, white specks of soap dripping down your hair.

“well, you seem to know what you’re doing.”

“and you seem surprised.”

“i didn’t say i wasn’t. i am surprised.”

he grabbed the bottle of conditioner and repeated the process. “i have decently long hair myself, you know. i can take care of hair. i’m not an animal.”

“mm, i guess.”

“hey, if i was an animal, you would still be crying on your bed right now.” you stayed silent as his fingers brushed through your hair, evenly distributing the conditioner. you knew he was joking, but the hard reality of it stung you.

“fine. point taken.” he smiled contently, ridding your hair of knots. “you’re too kind. why can’t he be like you?”

“well, not everyone can be like me, ‘bella. it’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” you chuckled.

“very.” he gestured you to close your eyes, and you did, feeling water pour down your skin again. you stayed in the bath together in comforting silence. sensing that you enjoyed the feeling, he massaged your scalp every so often.

not everyone can be like osamu dazai, sure, but you were so grateful that someone like him existed. compared to your boyfriend, osamu was the nicest person in the world, and even that at times was a stretch.

did you feel guilty for cheating on your boyfriend? well, yeah. you may have cheated, but you’re still a sensible human being. though, did he have it coming? yeah. he did. three long excruciating years of dealing with nothing but heartbreak could do something to a person. with the way he treated you, you wouldn’t be shocked if he cheated on you once or twice. you didn’t really mind, or even care anymore. the only person on your mind was osamu and his kindness.

exiting the bathtub, you wrapped yourself in a towel and threw yourself back on the bed. osamu followed behind, grabbing his clothing and putting it back on his body.

“i should probably get going… i don’t exactly want your boyfriend to see me right now.” you felt yourself wanting to cry. you didn’t want him to leave.

“okay.” you bit back your tears.

he walked up to you, dragging you to a sitting position, and hugged you. “if you wind up ending things with him, let me know, okay?” you nodded. “i won’t let you live on the streets, you hear?” you smiled, laughing lightly.

“okay, i’ll hold you to that, then.”

“good.” he picked up his jacket. “take care.”

you leaned back on your bed, feeling more content than you have in months. maybe breaking up with your boyfriend won’t be so bad. after all, you do have a backup option - an option a hundred times more appealing than your current situation.

[romanticintheory]

he’s drunk and confessing his love to you, but you’re not taking any of his shit.

kyle “gaz” garrick x reader

hurt/comfort, drinking, gn!reader written by an nb, hella inaccurate depiction of a drunk person

a/n: this is my first time writing for cod so please be kind </3 if you have any critiques just let me know (gently, preferably)

word count: 1.3k

--

“I’m in love with you.”

You were so focused on navigating him back to his room that you had almost missed his confession. About half an hour ago, Kyle had asked you to pick him up from the pub after he went out drinking with his friends. You asked why he didn’t want to take a cab and he so charmingly responded with, “Well, I wanted to see your pretty face, love.”

Now, he was leaning most of his weight on your shoulder as you tried your damned hardest to not let him run into any walls or hit his hips on any counters or tables. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and kicked his door open, helping Kyle settle down on his bed. 

“Is that so?” You countered jokingly, shaky hands helping peel off his coat. Maybe, just maybe, this was the setup to a terrible joke.

“Yeah,” he answered, looking up at you with a dreamy smile after placing his coat next to his nightstand. Slowly, the drunken soldier watched as the amused look in your eyes morphed into something hardened.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you, brows furrowing as you wordlessly crouched down to help him take off his shoes.

“Kyle, you’re drunk,” you reasoned, untying his laces and carefully slipping off his boots. “I told you not to have too many drinks and now listen to all the nonsense you’re saying.”

“You think I’m lying?” 

“I know you are.”

The more the topic lasted, so did your frustration. You had spent years of your life pining after Kyle Garrick. He was kind, always helped you out when he was able, always made time for you, always came to visit when he came back from missions, and never let you feel like you were less than nothing when he was around. He was perfect, and that was the exact problem. There was no world in which Kyle Garrick would fall for you.

“Why would you say that?” 

You could feel your heart constrict in your chest. It was almost as if he were making fun of you at this point, though you knew he would never be so cruel. Setting his boots to the side, you stood up from your spot in front of him and turned to leave. “Good night, Kyle.”

In an instant, he stood up to match you. “(Y/n), wait,” he said hurriedly, clumsily following you as you made a beeline for his front door, after you like a lost puppy following its owner.

Despite his intoxication, he was able to catch up to your brisk pace with an almost concerning ease and grasp your hand gently. You turned to look at him, his face now etched with concern. He felt like he sobered up instantly.

“It’s almost four in the morning. You should go to bed,” you reasoned with him, trying to find any way to avoid confronting his confession—if it even really was one.

“You know I wouldn’t joke with you about this, right? ‘S that what you think this is? That I’d do something like that to you?” He kept digging for an answer, pulling your wrist so that your whole body faced him. In the back of your mind, you become extremely conscious of the fact that his front door is only three feet away from you.

Kyle seemed to notice, too, because he took the opportunity to take your other wrist and slide both his hands up your arms to take a firm grasp at your shoulders. 

“No. That’s not what I think, I just—” you paused and exhaled through your nose, wishing he’d just let you go, but you know him. If he’s concerned about you, he won’t let you leave until he’s sure it’ll be okay. “Like I said, you’re drunk and you’re thinking things are true when they’re not. Now, will you please let me go home so both of us can get some rest?”

He laughs softly. Not in a mocking manner, but in a sad, empathetic way. 

“This isn’t some spur-of-the-moment revelation.” His hands come away from your shoulders and find themselves cupping your face. “Why do you think I want to be around you all the time?”

“Are friends not supposed to want to be around each other?”

He scoffs at the counter, a small smile creeping up on his face. 

“Fine. Why do you think I only look at you whenever you enter the room? Why do you think I’ve never once liked any of your past partners? Why, in all the time we’ve known each other, do you think I’ve never had a partner, myself? Ask Price. Actually, ask anyone who knows me. You are the only thing on my mind. It’s always you, and I thought I could stay in denial for a little while longer, but I can’t.” 

He takes a shaky breath and strokes your cheek gently with his right thumb.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, but don’t tell me I’m not in love with you when you are the only one I’d watch the world burn for.”

You would have been melted into a puddle at this point if you weren't offended at the insinuation that you didn’t return his feelings. Still, you were convinced none of it mattered.

“Kyle,” you say gently, raising your hands to rest on his. “You could do so much better. You and I both know that.”

“Don’t say that.” 

“It’s true. Letting you… love me would probably be one of the most selfish things I could do. I can’t let you do that,” you whispered, trying to pry his hands away from you. They wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll love you anyway.”

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“See? You’re proving my point.”

“And if I tell you I’m in love with you in the morning?”

“It won’t matter.”

“Tell me you don’t want me. Look at me in my eyes and say you aren’t in love with me, and I’ll leave you alone. Tell me you’d be unhappy being with me, or something about what you actually want because I know you’re too kind to take what you want from others. You take care of people. Even just now, you agreed to take me home even though you knew I could take cab. Every time I have to cancel plans, you just smile and say it's alright like it’s not disrespectful to y—”

“It’s not like you can control when you have to go to work,” you reminded him.

“That. That sweetness only you bring is exactly what I mean. It’s one of the things I love about you most and I wish you could see it in yourself like I see you. You’re always the one taking care of me. Let me take care of you, this time. Please.”

It wasn’t until his small please that you realized tears were starting to form in the corners of your eyes. At first, you tried to speak but you mouth wouldn’t open. The overwhelming feeling of his hands caressing your face and his pleading words swirling around in your head was sending you into a state of panic.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down, you said, “In the morning. When you’re sober.”

Kyle’s face lit up instantly, and the small smile lingering on his lips only grew. Finally taking his hands off your face, he slid his palms into yours and gently kissed your knuckles.

“When I’m sober,” he agreed.

“Goodnight, Kyle,” you sighed, secretly savoring the interaction.

“Goodnight, love.”

The sound of Kyle calling your cell phone was what happened to wake you up that next morning.

--

it's 3:30 am and i don't have the energy to proofread this, sorry </3 anyway, I was inspired to write this by @/groguspicklejar who indirectly introduced me to cod with her fanfics. i am now extremely down bad for these boys :') if you liked this you should send her love because she slays!! ok goodnight im so tired <3 i love u

[fandomnerd9602]

Date Night

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

You and your doe mate, Wanda Maximoff, were really becoming quite the famous pair due to Tony’s recent success on the press circuit. He made you and Wanda the face of the sanctuary and its charity work.

And with it came an increase in people wanting your attention. Wanda had noticed several new volunteers at the sanctuary that seemed to take a vested interest in you.

It broke Wanda’s heart a little and infuriated her even more so. You couldn’t help but notice all the little things that were going on in your doe’s mind.

You reminded the volunteers that were attempting to flirt with you that you were Wanda’s and only hers. This appeared to break a couple hearts but you didn’t care. You were the exclusive property of one special doe. And you had an idea.

You approached her office and opened the door.

“Detka?” She asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you away for the rest of the day”

“What?” She began to giggle.

“I’m treating you to a date night. you, me, a night on the town

Your doe couldn’t help but blush, “detka you don’t have to. I know that you’re all mine as I am all yours.”

You walk over and kneel before her, coming eye to eye with her as she relaxes in her chair. Your hand snakes around her waist. Wanda gasps as you pull her into a fiery kiss.

Your doe wraps her arms around your neck and kisses you back. This animalistic side of you made her heart beat practically out of her chest. She giggles as you pull away.

“I’ll grab my purse” your doe shutters a little, her tail wiggles a little. The two of you shared a smile and walked out into the hallway together.

Wanda couldn’t contain her joy, she launched herself at you she kissed you yet again, this time with enough force to make your knees give way. The two of you tumbled and fell against the hallway wall. Your hand found a door handle, practically prying it open as the two of you kissed and caressed.

“Baby?” She mumbled against your lips, “this is the supply closet”. Your perfect doe let out a nervous yet excited laugh.

“Good. No one comes in here usually” you smirked before kissing her again. Wanda’s antlers knocked over a couple boxes of staples and paper clips.

You were lost in this moment together. Wanda gently held your face in her hands, relishing every little kiss, every little nip.

And then, as if on instinct, her hips bucked forward into yours. A moan escapes your lips, Wanda froze and looked at you worried.

“I’m so sorry!” She whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, detka”

“Hurt me? No you didn’t” you explain, trying to contain a laugh, “that was a good sound”

“Good.” She giggles, “good.”

She continued her onslaught of kisses, wrapping one of her legs around your waist, pulling you as close as she could. You were all hers.

And then the door opened and there stood your shared wolf pal Natasha. She tried to keep a straight face but her laughter was practically bursting thru.

“Excuse me lovebirds, can I get a box of staples?”

Wanda composes herself, untangling her limbs from you and hands Natasha a box of staples. Natasha just smirks and closes the door.

“So…” Wanda bites her lip, “date night?”

For the first stop on your date night, you whisked Wanda off to the local bowling alley. She had never gone and it seemed like a fun idea.

You had to put up the guardrails on your lane. Not for Wanda, but for you.

The look on Wanda’s face and how her entire face appeared to radiate hot as she knocked over two pins.

“I did it!!!” She giggles and cheers, hugging you tightly. Her tail wiggles with delight.

“First one to ten. Loser buys pretzels” she makes a wager with you.

Either ways you’d have to pay, you were the only one who brought a wallet.

The next stop on your date night was a local event that was running that evening. Kind of a spur of the moment thing but Wanda really wanted to try out this thing she called-

“Disk-O? What’s that, detka?” She looked at you confused.

“Disco. It’s a dance hall.”

“Dance? I’d love to! Come on!” She yanked you right into the halls of the disco event.

Both you and Wanda were not professional dancers but you had a blast. Teaching Wanda how to dance to Stayin’ Alive by the BeeGees will be the memory that always brings a smile to your face.

Wanda found herself grinding against you, her tail ended up brushing between your legs. She was a blushing mess, luckily her embarrassment was hidden under the darkened dance hall and loud groovy music.

“S-sorry” she whispered.

You hugged her right from behind, kissing her ear and rubbing her antlers with one hand and gently caressing her thighs with the other.

“Don’t be” you whispered right back.

Wanda couldn’t help but grin, her tail wiggles a little bit more.

You guide your doe back into your home. She giggles happily as the two of you find yourselves landing on your couch. She just nuzzles into your arms.

“Today has been amazing,” she whispers, “thank you detka”

“Thank you for just being you” you kiss the top of her antlers.

You woke up the next day with the love of your life still sleeping in your arms. Her little antlers were at just the right angle to where all of her was nestled safely in your arms without them poking you. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Best date night ever” she mumbled against your chest. She rubs your chest a little lazily. Every little touch from her feels like heaven.

“How about we have a date day?” You respond.

Your mate immediately jumps up, gasping happily. “We can have a date day?!”

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @mathxa @russianredassassin @revanshand @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @henkermen @idkwhatever580

[smolsleepyfox]

Okay so, I attended a VERY local event where Falk was a speaker. By very local I mean there were maybe 20 people in a refurbished bar and he hung out with us after the Q&A.

Things that he mentioned in no particular order:

- PW didn't have a crew on tour until around 2008 and it didn't include a sound tech, that came way later

- they used a refurbished truck they bought in ye olden days and one time Matthew said he smelled fire. They told him it was his croissant. It was not his croissant.

- Falk is the organizer and logistics guy for the tour because (my interpretation) he can't stand not knowing if everything is going okay. Including checking the weather constantly during festival season

- he's also super nervous about his keyboards not arriving when they take a flight. Apparently they have been hidden to prank him before.

- the band knows exactly how to push each other's buttons by now and it is being used lmao

- his favorite video shoot was We don't wanna be no saints because his slimy (his words) character was really fun to play and it was a great location

- the tennis video was just a spur of the moment thing. The biggest issue was actually getting a tennis ball because the location is in the middle of nowhere. Roel had to drive to several stores.

- Yes the staff broke, but they fixed it again lmao.

- Falk has murdered at least four harmoniums by now. Most of them were from eBay. One instrument he actually refurbished himself, he showed us photos it was great.

- Also, the guitars in the Sinners of the Seven Seas video were the original stage guitars. They had to have their entire wiring redone after.

- the water corpse pose in Sinners was something he made up because standing in the water, his legs couldn't move the way he wanted them to for his usual poses. Apparently the entire shoot was very physically demanding.

- rain scenes are fine but My Will Be Done was hard because they used water AND wind, and looking chill while being pelted in the face with artificial rain is rough. Also, there were just literally people standing on the sides throwing leaves into the wind for the scene, which is hilarious to me.

- Falk was HORRIBLY seasick during the filming of Sinners. The ship apparently didn't actually move much but the difference in motion patterns to modern ships and the slanted deck was not fun. He was however very appreciative of the ship itself and the crew that worked it.

- Falk forgot the name of Demons are a girl's best friend during the interview lmao

- when i said i liked his tattoos he got excited to show them and seemed almost annoyed that he started so late in life. He's planning a full sleeve apparently (good for him!)

- I was a bit surprised but even when speaking to people who did use heavy dialect, Falk didn't switch from standard German. Some phrases still slipped out certainly and some pronunciation struggles (ch pronounced as sch are an easy tell) but otherwise nope, nothing. I've heard Attila speak more dialect in BtS videos.

- Falk for his perspective on fandom especially in contrast with Ghost and Sleep Token (I answered an ask about that recently) since I was curious if he had an idea why three bands with similar themes have such a different type of fandom around it. His best guess was that Powerwolf are kind of approachable (case in point that I'm writing this) whereas Sleep Token and Tobias from Ghost are more at a distance.

And lastly, not only did I get a picture, I got the title page of my thesis signed (in green marker because I didn't find anything else at my brother's house). And Falk got a copy of my thesis, since he seemed genuinely happy to read it. I really do hope he likes it!

Overall he was an incredibly down to earth, funny, and kind person even four beers in and very very tired. He said bye to us with a hug as well 🥺

[zeropro]

What are your thoughts on transformers prime and transformers one?

TL:DR I liked both! TFP was my first Transformers show that I watched all the way through and TF1 was a lot of fun! Opinions on Starscream under the break pfpfpfpfpfpf

Prime was literally my first Transformers experience (Okay that's not true, I did see the first Bay movie when it came out but lets not talk about that). It's really good! My favorite character was Ratchet, I loved that he's just a tired, grumpy, racist old man and he's a doctor. Knock Out was the best thing to come out of TFP and he really should be in more stuff. Really would have loved a fourth season but it wouldn't have been the same without the children around. I liked what we got!

Prime has an excellent Starscream, Steve Blume does an amazing performance with both his deep conniving gravel and his high pitched terrified sputtering. So much character in his animation too, especially in later seasons, and an incredibly compelling character arc. Prime Starscream is not a good person, but I would burn the world for him, and I like the small moments in the show that hint at something in his character that could be turned to good, but circumstance always works against him in that regard. He's just so pathetic, but also competent and dangerous, all the best qualities of a Starscream and a very unique design!

Transformers One was quite good, I was worried because of the trailers but I was surprised by how well executed it all was. None of the characters were annoying, and making Optimus Prime originally one of the oppressed class alongside Megatron was a good move. The scene where Orion gives Dee the sticker is so cute, I simply cannot. The ending felt a bit rushed but what can you do, it wasnt so bad that it's a problem for me.

I would have loved just a little more Starscream in the movie! Like, I knew he wasn't really gonna be in the movie much so i was prepared for it to be little more than a glorified cameo, but I loved a lot of what we did get and I feel like it was missing just a little bit more! Like, the whole High Guard turned rogue backstory he has is great, implies some honor to his character since he didnt keep serving Sentinal when the guy turned Cybertron over to the Quintissance. I think it's hilarious that Starscream is so much older than Megatron. Like, they gave us a lot of food to make headcanons out of, but then the rushed ending kind of left me with no real reason given for him and the rest of the High Guard to go with Megatron without a fight. Like, I think the reason given was that, because Megatron beat him up that one time, and then killed Sentinal, and since the High Guard became a might makes right society and hates Sentinal, I guess thats why they are loyal to him now. And I guess the one line where Starscream is like "all hail megatron" is supposed to indicate he's 100% behind Megatron now and not just a spur of the moment thing. And I guess them following his command to destroy the city is why theyre being banished. But like...idk, every other plot point was well established and properly played out, and the whole decepticons thing just didnt really feel like enough, and i kind of feel like it should have been more clearly communicated considering its an entire one side of a two sided war? I feel like we werent shown the high guard doing anything egregiously bad besides attacking people because megatron told them to.

Like, there's nothing in the movie to suggest that Starscream and the High Guard arent still loyal to the Primes. So when Orion comes back as a prime, like a proper prime, with the matrix and everything, which everyone knows will make the energon flow again, I'm surprised Starscream didnt at least try to make excuses or worm his way into avoiding banishment? My headcanon is he wanted to kill Sentinal as bad as Megatron and so when Megatron finally does what he failed to do for 50 cycles, he's like aite im ride or die for this guy. Maybe 50 cycles of living in the wilderness doing nothing but scout and pit fight all day changes a guy and they dont wanna live in a society anymore. Why dont they accept Optimus as the new prime? They helped him and Elita save their friends, and unlike Sentinal Optimus has the actual Matrix this time. Idk mang. Woulda liked a bit more.

Transformers One, not my favorite design for Starscream. The head vents going wide at the bottom look weird to me, and his legs are so long and flat.

Thems my opinions!

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Backstage Story Translation - Tsumugi Tsukioka SSR - Treasure Hunt: TSUMUGI - Part 1

tysm to fuyugumiyuri on twitter for providing a video of the story!

also proofread by myuntachis!

Tsumugi: This tea smells really nice.

Homare: Does it not? I have been quite fond of it as of late.

Tsumugi: It’s been quite cold today, so this tea you brewed warms me right up.

[Door opening]

Kumon: We’re baaack~!

Kazunari: Brrr~ Talk about cold~!

Misumi: Let’s take a bath and warm uuup.

Tsumugi: Oh, is the Summer Troupe back?

[Door opening]

Izumi: I’m home~ Oh, are you having a tea party?

Homare: Hello, a welcome back to you as well, Director-kun.

Tsumugi: Welcome back. It must’ve been cold outside. Fufu, the tip of your nose is a little red.

Homare: Wait right there, Director-kun. I shall brew some tea for you posthaste.

Director: Thank you! It really was bone-chillingly cold outside, so I appreciate it.

Tsumugi: The Summer Troupe just came back as well. Were you with them, Director?

Izumi: Yes. They wanted to go to the beach to play while we were out, actually.

Izumi: As we kept talking, we decided to go to the beach in the middle of winter… It was a spur of the moment decision, basically.

Homare: Dear me, a day like today is no time to go to the beach…

Tsumugi: …  I don’t think we’re ones to talk.

Homare: … Quite true.

Homare: Come now, Director-kun. Drink this and let it warm your body.

Izumi: Thank you. … It’s delicious. I feel warmer already.

Tsumugi: Winter is approaching, so we have to start getting ready for it.

Izumi: … Oh.

Homare: Hm? Whatever is the matter?

Izumi: No…. I don’t think now is the time for this.

Izumi: I was just thinking that Tsumugi-san should be starting his treasure hunt project soon.

Tsumugi: Ah, yes. It is a birthday project, after all.

Homare: This project is inspired by the fact that the outfits for the birthday bromides have a beautiful sparkle, reminiscent of treasures, yes?

Izumi: Exactly. Each person uses the hint they’re given to find their gift and the gifter.

Tsumugi: And we’re supposed to record ourselves during our search, right?

Izumi: Yes. But those are commemorative videos for your families, so they’re more like home videos.

Tsumugi: I see. Fufu, it seems like lots of fun. I’m getting kind of excited.

-

Izumi: So, Tsumugi-san. Here’s the camera and your hint.

Tsumugi: Thank you very much. I’m a little worried about handling the camera but… I’ll do my best!

Tsumugi: What’s written in this hint is… “Cross my heart, hope to die, if I break my promise, I’ll…?”

Tsumugi: Oh, I see. Fufu, this hint means… he’s waiting at that place.

Izumi: Looks like you’ve thought of something. Off you go then, be careful!

Tsumugi: I will, see you.

-

[Door opening]

Staff: Welcome.

Chikage: … Good work.

Tsumugi: It was you after all, Chikage-san.

Chikage: Yeah. I recently found out they also serve lunch here. … Here’s the menu. 

Tsumugi: Wow, the lunch menu looks delicious too. I don’t know what to get.

Chikage: I wasn’t so sure you’d remember that hint.

Tsumugi: Ahaha… I was pretty drunk back then.

Tsumugi: But I wasn’t drunk to the point where I wouldn’t remember what happened.

Chikage: If memory serves, it was just after the Nihil performance had ended.

Tsumugi: Yes. It didn’t happen that long ago, but it feels sort of nostalgic.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

[clonerightsagenda]

Ok this might actually be my meanest (?) w359 opinion so I'm not tagging it but I'm bored and was spurred by posts I saw from another fandom to consider relationship analysis and shipping trends so

The way the fandom approaches the Jacobi/Eiffel ship is kind of fascinating to me. Sure on the surface it is a classic two men standing next to each other manifestation, particularly as they are the last two men with a pulse, but there are Layers. I've lost count of how many people I've seen insisting on the fascinating and undeniable canon dynamic these characters have when imo each of them has more interesting interactions with literally every other character. And listen, while I'm not a shipper by trade, I find relationship analysis fun! Especially if you can map everything out tidily and then go 'yikes'. I used to write posts like that all the time for kicks. In the spirit of good will I dedicated an entire relisten to trying to see where people were coming from. I really tried! Maybe I just didn't care enough about the men. Maybe I was insufficiently equipped with shipping goggles. Surely there had to be something here for so many people to insist on it.

Not really. I came up empty.

(Sidenote, one moment I see people comment on is Jacobi asking for both Maxwell and Eiffel to promise they'll reconnect with him in "Time to Kill". However, there are three people in the capsule besides himself - Lovelace, Maxwell, and Eiffel - and Lovelace was the first one to say "I promise". Jacobi isn't singling Eiffel out. He's getting a promise from everyone.)

But here's what fascinates me and what elevates this from just another garden variety 'we gotta smash the guys together'. This lack of a fleshed out dynamic is arguably an asset. At the end of the show, Eiffel (or, rather, Doug, as I tend to distinguish the two) has had his memories erased. Most of the crew are expecting things from him and likely putting a lot of pressure on him to be a certain way. It must be incredibly stressful knowing people look at you and wish you were someone else, expect you to behave a way you can't and maybe don't want to anymore.

Not Jacobi though. He doesn't give a shit. And that might make him more appealing to Doug. Finally someone who doesn't have expectations of who he ought to be, and whose bland disinterest might be preferable to tearful disappointment. Would Jacobi want the amnesiac hovering around him for a break from the sad facial expressions and probing questions? Probably not. But this is the take on a connection between them that's most believable to me, and it's intriguing that most people seem to pass it up in favor of insisting there's a pre-existing dynamic that I just can't find.

Of course, perhaps the real reason most people don't want to dwell on postcanon Doug gravitating toward people who don't miss him is because they do not want to embrace the best postcanon headcanon dear to my heart, Doug and Miranda being weird friends.

[sc4rrc]

Heyy pookie <3

could you maybe write a 2012 Mikey x artist reader headcanons 🫣🩷

"A little bit of colour here."

════════════════════

════════════════════ - 2012!Mikey x artist!reader - Head cannons - "A little bit of colour here." - Fluff - Warnings: None

A/N: I think I may be ticking off two things with this one, idk. The results of the pole had Mikey as most rated and then this came up, which was such a nice coincidence. I might do a second Mikey one shot/head cannon to match the pole again if I feel like it, but for now I will be marking both this and the pole as complete so I can focus on a more special request an anon had for me. ════════════════════

Mikey has always been full of energy and imagination, so it’s no surprise that art became such a big part of his life. At first, it was just something he loved doing for fun, but now it feels more like a part of who he is—how he expresses himself and even how he deals with things. Still, he never treats it like work. For Mikey, art is all about fun and freedom.

Give him anything to draw or paint with—a pencil, spray can, or even chalk—and he’ll turn it into something incredible. His ideas are out-of-the-box and unique, and it’s easy to see how much joy he gets from creating. If he finds out that you also see the world in a different way, even just a little like him, he’ll be thrilled. It’s not just about having fun together; it’s about sharing something really special.

He’d definitely ask you to pose for one of his pieces at some point. But let’s be honest—he definitely probably finished the artwork early and just wanted an excuse to sit and watch you. He’d happily admit it too, flashing you that proud grin like he’s just done the smartest thing ever.

When it comes to modern art, Mikey can be a little baffled. He tries, but some pieces leave him scratching his head. “Wait, so I’m supposed to feel shy because this pink triangle exists? Dude, it’s just a triangle.” He’s got plenty of jokes about it, but he secretly enjoys the challenge of trying to figure out what it all means—especially if it’s something you can talk about together.

Movie nights are a guaranteed source of inspiration for him. As soon as you mention a favourite character, he’s planning to draw them for you. It’s his little way of making you smile, and he’ll keep it up like clockwork—handing you a new drawing every week to remind you he’s thinking of you.

One of his favourite ways to hang out with you is working on art projects together. Whether it’s painting, doodling, or crafting paper flowers, he loves being right there beside you, cracking jokes and guiding your hand if you’re feeling stuck. For Mikey, it’s not just about making something cool—it’s about sharing those little moments and having fun while you do it.

What he loves most is that you share his passion for art. You don’t have to be experts or love every style, but the fact that you get it—at least the kinds of art you enjoy together—means the world to him. Those shared favourites? They’re what he treasures the most.

Mikey is the type to find inspiration anywhere. Whether you’re waiting for pizza, sitting in a park, or just hanging out, he’ll grab whatever’s nearby (a napkin, a notebook, anything!) and start sketching. He loves showing you his spur-of-the-moment creations and getting your thoughts on them.

He’d totally challenge you to silly art contests, like “Who can make the funniest doodle” or “Who can draw a pizza slice faster.” He almost always declares himself the winner, even if your drawing is better. “What? I had to handicap myself because I’m too good!” Cue the exaggerated victory pose.

Mikey is obsessed with graffiti and street art, always pointing out cool designs when you’re out together. He might even suggest you two try making a mural someday, just for fun—something colourful and meaningful that shows off your combined creativity.

Mikey is all about turning his art into little surprises for you. Whether it’s a mini painting, a personalized card, or a keychain he decorated himself, his gifts always feel thoughtful and one-of-a-kind.

════════════════════ A/N: I hope this makes up for the lack of activity I had this week. On the brighter side though, I only have 3 more days of exams next week and then I am pretty much free to write as I please! So, if there are any other requests people would like, I would be more than happy to have them in my inbox for when I can write freely again. - I do NOT give permission for any of my work to be republished on any other sites, or even here. Not Ao3, not Wattpad, nowhere. This is simply for entertainment purposes and I would appreciate respecting this.

[tiedyeflannels]

Adventure of a Lifetime

Kim Taehyung x reader

Chapter 12 | Masterlist

A/N: Get your dancing shoes on 'cuz we're learning some choreo!! Anyway, enjoy!

“They're the one you’ve been talking about in the group-” one started before another member slapped a hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

“Jungkook, you can’t just blurt that out,” he quietly scolded the youngest member.

I chuckled at the interaction then looked over at Tae, who was awkwardly scratching his neck with a smile.

“Anyway… Y/n, this is everyone,” he announced, motioning to the others.

I smiled as Tae suggested that everyone introduce themselves individually so I would “know who’s who”. They all agreed and Jimin was the first one to come up to me and give me a side hug, which I happily returned.

“It’s great to see you again!”

“You too!”

“Tae hasn’t given you too much trouble, has he,” he teased, making Tae start pouting.

I laughed, “No, but I’ll let you know when he does.”

Tae all but pushed Jimin away from me as J-hope came up and shook my hand. The others quickly followed suit as Namjoon, Jungkook and Jin- the one that scolded the youngest- introduced themselves. The last one, Yoongi, stayed in his spot, but politely nodded his head. 

I mirrored the action and thanked them for letting me come to their practice before J-hope spoke up.

“We’re going to start with some stretches if you’d like to join us. We all can chat so we can get to know you a bit more,” he suggested.

I agreed and followed them to the middle of the room, facing the mirrors.

We collectively sat down as we started some on-the-floor stretches. Bending to the side and stretching my arm to my foot in order to mirror what they were doing, I winced at the pain as I stretched the muscles in my leg.

“So Y/n, we heard that you’re visiting with Taehyung’s brother and your sister. How are you liking it so far,” Namjoon asked, making me look at him through the mirror, nose still scrunched at the slight pain.

“It’s been really fun,” I smiled before Tae butted in.

“Yeah, Y/n's planning to stay here forever.”

I laughed and switched the leg I was currently stretching.

“It was a momentary lapse in judgment! That beach was too beautiful at sunset. How could you not want to stay there forever,” I happily sighed, thinking about that view.

“Oh, so you guys did go to Gwangalli in the end,” Jimin asked and we both nodded.

We switched to stretching our arms over our heads before Jungkook spoke up. “Wait, you guys were in Busan?”

He turned to Tae with puppy dog eyes. “Aw Hyung, you should've told me. We could’ve met up,” he whined and I smiled when he pouted, thinking about how cute he looked.

Tae waved him off with a smile, "It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Jeong-Gyu wanted us to go. Plus I didn't know that Jimin was there, we just met him by accident." Jimin shrugged and nodded as we all stood up to do more warm-ups. 

Tae promised that he would visit him next time they had a break as we continued talking. It was a lot of fun seeing the group’s dynamic in the purest form.

They talked, teased, joked and laughed with each other throughout the warm-up. They asked me some questions which I was always happy to answer as I told them about what we were doing here all the way to what I was studying in college.

Soon enough, they all had to start practicing so once warm-ups were over, I walked over and took a seat by the wall where all of their bags were.

I sat there bouncing between looking through my phone and quietly watching them learn new choreography or solidifying the moves they already learned. 

It was entertaining to watch the process that went into those award-winning dances, though I would be lying if I said that J-hope’s judging gaze didn’t send a shiver down my spine.

By the 2-hour mark, I had gotten down some of the moves for “Black Swan” and would find myself dancing along to the parts that I had picked up.

They all sat down, out of breath after their run-through. Tae looked around the room before his eyes settled on me.

"What do you think," he asked as he threw a tired smile over to me. I hummed in thought.

"I think that I would not be able to do this for a career," I chuckled.

"What? Being an idol," Jimin queried.

I nodded, "I'm not much of a dancer and these steps look a little complicated…"

Jin laughed at my statement, finding it amusing, "We've had years of training, but trust us when we say that Hobi had to teach us from scratch."

Jungkook popped his head up and looked at me with sparkling eyes, "Do you want to learn some choreo?"

My eyes widened as a mischievous smile spread across his face and got up to walk over to me. I violently shook my head as he got closer.

“No, no, Tae,” I exclaimed as he grabbed my hands and tugged me up to my feet.

He circled around me and started pushing me in the direction of the others.

I tried “digging” my feet into the floor to slow him down, but he kept pushing, “Dude, I’m not a good dancer, trust me!”

He stopped when we made it to the group and turned me to face J-hope, “We all start somewhere and luckily, you’ve got the best dance teacher in the industry!” 

The man in question gave me a lovely smile, “I promise I won’t be too hard on you.”

“Yeah. He really only looks intimidating with us, but he’s an absolute sweetheart with others,” Namjoon chimed in.

I sighed and nodded, “Alright, I’ll give it a try.”

Chapter 13

Taglist:

@maple-leaves-in-the-wind | @eli-xar | @amaroho

[brokens-writingblog]

BASIL’S POEMS - SAGE AU

“Dream Boy”

Fourth try

Where am i? 

Running on low fuel

That’s so not cool

Poems running endlessly through my mind, but

Why aren’t there any of the same kind?

Speaking in rhymes is tiring

Like cannons in war, endlessly firing

Against the opposing team

Who, unfortunately, looks like a dream

Dream Boy, my friend

You’re so beautiful, and now the war can end

Because we’re fighting over pure void-space

But you tell me “It’s time to begin a never-ending chase”

Why is this, Dream Boy? Can we not silently coexist as one being?

Why do you wish to run? I am of no harm to your precious self, seeing

As I may be in love

With someone, someone from far above

You’re like some deity, descended from heaven  

But now it’s been four years, maybe seven

Since you started the Chase.

“Back Together Again; A Plea from the Chaser” 

Fifth time.

I found the chime

It holds power 

I control the endless showers

What a worthless fate

In my dreams, i lie in wait

When will Dream Boy be back again? 

It’s been four years, or maybe ten

Dream Boy flickers through time but I cannot catch him.

It’s exhausting, following mere echoes

Of his voice which I have grown tired of tracking

Dream Boy, if you’re listening

I want to stop suffering.

I don’t need to chase you any longer

Dream Boy, it’s not worth this pain and hunger

I need you back here, home, with me

Underneath the same old sunset willow tree.

Home is too far, because of your relentless urge to run

You’re really no fun

Not anymore. Let’s get back together again, Dream Boy.

“Salvation”

You finally came back, Dream Boy. 

All these years haven’t changed you one bit

You stopped running

“Running? I wasn’t running, Plant Boy, I was waiting for you.”

Seems like a silly lie, a joke

In the spur of the moment

But

“I will never run from you. We’re forever now”

I believe you when you say it

I love you, Dream Boy

My Salvation comes with a diamond

Embedded in a ring. 

“Light”

Light, shining.

Far away

Too far, I still cannot tell 

Yell, yell

I still cannot hear you

“I need you”

I can’t need you

“I love you”

I can’t love you

Sorry

My light has faded

“I see you”

I can’t see you

Sorry, my light has faded. 

“Spiders” 

I saw it in the room. 

You heard me scream. 

You ran, because

You always come running

When I scream.

But you saw it too

“I can’t help, i’m sorry”

You dirty liar.

You’re not nearly as scared

As me.

You’re only scared when you see it

The thing, HER,

In the mirror.

Mari. 

Home, again

But perhaps not in the way either of us expected. 

Sorry she scared you.

Sorry for what I did

I didn’t want you to get hurt.

I promise.

“Many Safe Returns” 

I was only walking down the stairs.

I heard Her

I don’t know where She came from.

But I turned around

Quick as a whip and I saw Her.

Behind me. 

Not the way I normally would.

Not nightmarish. Not horrible. Or terrifying.

Just… Her. 

It was late at night.

I assumed it must be a hallucination.

So I wished Her many safe returns.

“When Reality is Faced, Dreams are Left in Shadow”

Really, I should have figured it out

From the bites all over her skin.

I should have figured it out from the fact that she looked like

A normal human being. 

I didn’t. 

It must be overwhelming, 

And you must be mad that I didn’t acknowledge

The fact she was alright

After all these years. 

Maybe I made the mistake of ignoring her when she asked

“What’s going on? Why do you look so strange?”

But I didn’t. That’s fine.

She’s fine now. 

Don’t take my ignorance as a sign I didn’t miss her as much as you did.

I missed her too.

She’s finally home.

Maybe now, the dreams i’ve left in shadow

Can finally be faced with the light of reality.

“My Sincerest Apologies, Dream Boy”

Sorry, Dream Boy.

I really let my temper get the best of me again,

Didn’t I…

I didn’t mean to hurt you.

“I accept your apology”

Can you please say it with more truth?

“I accept your apology”

Fine. I can apologize and make you really understand

How sorry I am.

“My sincerest apologies, Dream Boy, my one and only, for getting a bit too mad at you for something silly you said.”

Do you understand now? 

“Failures and Fallen Angels”

I asked what you would think of me

If I were a failure at everything.

“How could you be? What an irrational thought.”

I asked you what you thought I really was, in terms of people.

“You, my love, are a fallen Angel.”

I asked what you meant by that.

“Your beauty is only equivalent to a heavenly being. But you’re here on Earth.”

You’ve confused me.

“In the most literal sense possible, you’re a fallen Angel, and you’re MY fallen Angel.”

I still think I'm a failure, but everyone has their opinions.

“Piano Music”

Since the day she’s returned

She’s done nothing but sit at her piano and play.

I can hear her sometimes during the day

And sometimes at night, too. 

It’s beautiful, like it always was.

It does sound slightly better, though, and I’m left to wonder

If she did nothing but practice up there in Heaven. 

I don’t ask.

I just enjoy her presence 

And her wonderful piano music. 

“From the Inside”

Sometimes I stare at her

With all those awful bites

And genuinely,

I feel horrible for the choice I made

All those years ago. 

I see her, smiling at me

Because she doesn’t know what happened

And it feels like that smile

Is tearing me apart from the inside. 

“Lovesick 80,000 Light Years”

It’s the sillest show I've ever seen.

I mean, like, seriously

Who names their daughter Sweetheart?

Sure, the story itself has truly no meaning to me

But the soundtrack?

Hell yeah

That’s a good soundtrack.

“World’s End Valentine”

Sky falling

World spinning

But, alas, it’s February 14th. 

You, my friend, are most literally

My World’s End Valentine

“Poems in the Fog”

We’re sitting at

A Place by A Lake

As mist and clouds float about

I pull out my notebook

And write

Poems in the Fog

“Trouble NEVER/ALWAYS”

She’s becoming restless 

She wants the old ‘us’ back. 

I don’t think we can ever go back.

Back then, there was never trouble

But now?

There’s always too much. 

“Lost Library” 

Overdue memories

Half of the books seem mildly familiar 

Like something that’s happened to me before

This one, though, is still being written

The character is lost in his memories.

Trapped inside the lost library, send help.

“Those Who Forget History” 

I’d forgotten how nice it was

To have her around. 

Now she’s back, and

The sun shines brighter

Now that she’s here. 

Those who forget history

Often remember when the present comes to light.

“CHAOS ASSEMBLY”

Her piano is out of tune tonight. 

I’ve been lying in bed, while you’ve been

Sleeping peacefully.

I think maybe the tuning strings are broken.

Either way, it doesn’t sound right.

The tune is all wrong. 

I can hear her frustration every time

The note breaks.

When she plays faster, all I can think of

Is that it’s just

A chaos assembly.

“I Definitely Promised You a Rose Garden”

You and I were sitting together in the garden.

She’s playing Duet. 

“Why are there so many roses here?”

“For you.”

“Why?”

“Because I definitely promised you a rose garden.”

[avemusica]

all of them. daiya. please

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

im literally so bad with voices its insane . i love you but why would you do this to me MORE UNDER CUT

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

KURUMI + RIKU !!! rumi especially . they were all sent 2 the same prestigious art school on account of all being from relatively affluent families & have been inseparable ever since . w rumi specifically they have Always been on the same wavelength since their eyes met theyre like each others emotional support creature

3) What song describes your OC?

ive yet to find one accurately descriptive of him in his entirety but his solo is salvador by nilfruits which sums up his thoughts on art pretty succinctly !!

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

RUMIS SOLO i told you this i think its dedicated to them,,, also fireflies never came . YAYYY harumakigohan

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

I KEEPTRYING SO HARD TO MAKE OCXCANON WITH THEM IT NEVER PANS OUT HEAD IN HANDS

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

i think he & kaito would be warlock and wizard respectively,,, + either tiefling or earth elemental would be super fun

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

well obviously The Art Thing but other than that urban exploration 👍

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

RATHER POORLY . BECAUSE OF THE ABOVE . ADRENALINE JUNKIE-ISMS AND THE LIKE . 4 stuff like contagious diseases hes actually surprisingly cautious but physicall injuries nahhhhhhh

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

How Do You Fucking Think Annie Bongwater . no one ever asks how was the self destructive spiral was it fun did you have fun

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

i really didnt want a three person group so i went You know what this needs . Siblings who suck . (in all seriousness kaito was supposed to represent classic, traditional ideals of art that supposedly priorities technical ability while daiya was supposed to represent bold conceptual ideas of modern art with seemingly no regard for its basic foundations, and their conflict is meant to be about how no matter how hard you try you fundamentally cant divorce one from the other)

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

GEE I WONDER . I WONDER WHOS DAIYAS BEST OC FRIEND LETS REALLY PUT OUR HEADS TOGETHER HERE (hanabi confectiheartdare Your dorter)

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

no unless i decide to make ibuki and kaito friends in which case Yes

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

SEE ABOVE ?

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

THAT IS KIND OF HARD TO SAY . from viennrose specifically bc his addition was Very spur of the moment within canon . from art literally never thats in his blood babey

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

pretty nice ! one of the best of viennrose actually . their mother is incredibly sweet but has grown more distant and frail since they lost their father, so they make a joint effort to take care of her as much as she does for them

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

he/it ! mostly goes for he but likes switching it up

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

poly bi + giving varies but recieving just sort of likes reassurance that hes not going to be left behind

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

he does not ! metal pipe

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

FIGHT he never backs away even if its to his own detriment + kind of both ?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

already answered this yes absolutely 👍 he is stealing your possessions

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

YES ABSOLUTELY he loves singing he loves doing random little dances he loves creation he loves life !!!!!!!!

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

fuck i dont have one for him actually

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

beetlw,,,,,,,,

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

art kids . this is him normal

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

[grayintogreen]

Okay I've never done this for LitMoR because there's three times as many OCs and I always feel weird talking about "voice claims"" in a fandom that doesn't... do that. Or really have a huge OC culture in general, but since Hellaverse does and I HAVE seen people going "if my OC was real, they would be played by x" before, I wanted to provide the list and some references so you can hear them as I hear them.

This list is painfully biblically accurate to the casting pool Vivzie uses (either Broadway actors or voice actors who have done musicals), barring a couple exceptions. It also contains the Canon OC's, because lbr my interpretations of Eve, Crymini, Lilith, Baxter, and Arackniss are not going to be canon and I'm okay with that. Roseverse is an AU.

ANYWAY. BENEATH THE CUT ARE A BUNCH OF YOUTUBE CLIPS + long-winded explanations. ENJOY. I’ll have to do another one because there’s a ten video limit and I had more characters to cover plus there’s characters who haven’t been introduced yet.

EDEN ESPIONSA AS EVE

Listen I will fully admit this decision was spurred on by "Nothing Left to Lose" but Eden Espinosa is hella good at playing resentful second fiddle bad girlies, given her entire career feels like it comes down to "Idina Menzel but affordable" (don't listen baby girl you're amazing).

ELIZABETH MITCHELL AS LILITH (SINGING VOICE: LADY GAGA)

I've gone over this one before, but I stand by it. I know Vivzie's hc voice for Lilith for real is Lady Gaga, but it wasn't vibing with how I've been writing her, so Lady Gaga plays her when she's singing (specifically the very raw, less sylized way she sings ASiB) and Liz plays her every other time. Watch that Blonde4Blonde love scene and tell me that isn't Lucillith reunion coded.

CHRISTOPHER FITZGERALD AS BAXTER

Now if Baxter appears in canon as more than a cameo, I would want him to be played by an actual trans actor because WE CANNOT IGNORE THE FACT THAT ONLY FEMALE ANGLERFISH HAVE LURES (and Viv denotes trans characters in imps by their horns so we know she's done this kind of thing to cue the audience in), but since this is just for fun and for me to have something to refer back to when I'm writing for vocal consistency, I gotta go with this nerd.

Note: I did NOT realize he played Kimiko Glenn's love interest in Waitress until I was looking up a video.

BARRETT WILBERT WEED AS CRYMINI

This one is actually at least marginally possible because BWW already voices Octavia. Part of the reason why she and Stolas have that cute little moment in Chapter Five of OWDLIF is because she shares a VA with his daughter and it was a dumb little moment for me, personally. (The clip in there with the live version of Dead Girl Walking where she sounds a little drunk and she's reading the lyrics off her phone is the exact energy for Crymini.)

Also “Fight For Me” from the Heathers musical is the Crinomini theme.

BRENNAN LEE MULLIGAN AS ARACKNISS

Here's one of our exceptions! This came out of nowhere because at first I was using Jeremy Jordan in Newsies as the basis for his voice, but it VERY QUICKLY- like while writing the first chapter- morphed into Sean, so that's what I'm stuck with. Also I'm sorry it's so long, but trust me it's worth it. Brennan is an improv god.

LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA AS CHANCE

YEAH YEAH I KNOW. YOU LOVE CHANCE ANYWAY. I will say that Roseverse Chance is specifically closer to In the Heights!LMM, whereas LitMoR Chance is very specifically Lee Scoresby. Ergo In the Heights.

ERIKA ISHII AS DIANA

The third exception. Though Erika has been doing voice work and has been in a musical game, even if they didn't sing in it, so who knows.

Also this video clip is so Dianacore. The whole thing.

KHARY PEYTON AS AAMON

This is like the main reason I posted this, because I need everyone to be aware of just how hot Aamon sounds despite him being a giant toolbox.

REBECCA FERGUSON AS ROO

Listen. LISTEN. She can sing. She's got a sexy voice. She's NOT LIKELY TO EVER BE CAST, but Rose the Hat is like 85% of my entire aesthetic for her. Her secondary aesthetic is Kate Shindle as the Mad Hatter in the Wonderland musical who is slightly more castable.

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

When I pick up the phone and actress Rebecca Ferguson greets me with a cheery “hello,” she sounds completely at ease. She doesn’t sound at all like a woman who’s been flying across the world to promote her new blockbuster film, Dune: Part Two, all the while spending six days a week shooting the second season of her critically-acclaimed Apple TV+ dystopian drama, Silo. Of course, I realize not too long into our conversation that this is in part because Ferguson is quite amiable. I also learn that there's also a small part of her that chooses to embrace the chaos.

While discussing her look for the final Dune: Part Two premiere in New York, she recounts the story of when she arrived in the Big Apple, much of the outfit was thrown together last minute. While talking about her hair (courtesy of hairstylist Blake Eric) Ferguson says, “We were running late, so he was running after me with the scissors whilst clapping and chopping into it. I love all of the chaos.”

It’s hard to imagine this comically haphazard image when you take a look at the killer result. For the red carpet, Ferguson and her stylist, Tom Eerebout, chose a gothic ensemble from Olivier Theyskens that featured a black bodysuit layered under a sheer cape gown with alternating panels of frilly lace and fishnets. Ferguson accessorized with a pair of glossy black thigh-high boots and stacks of dog chains, which her husband, Rory St. Clair Gainer, actually picked up at a local pet store. Meanwhile, her ombré locks, which extended all the way to her hips, added a dramatic final touch, as did her bright red lip and dark eye makeup. The ensemble screamed ’80s dark glamour, and Ferguson herself jokingly referred to it as “Madonna on crack.”

The Dune star was full of jokes during our chat, which helped paint a clearer picture as to how such a playful look came together. “I'm more Gothic. I'm edgy. I'm Scandi,” she says. “I'm not fluffy and, you know, bride-like. That’s just not me.”

The Dune: Part Two press tour has been full of bold showings, from Zendaya’s Stéphane Rolland dress with the pointed-pronged cutout to Florence Pugh’s side boob moment in her backless Valentino gown. However, none of the looks have been quite like this, and you can sense how free Ferguson felt in the ensemble.

“I think for me it was quite nice at the end here to be able to just break loose and think, No, f*ck it,” Ferguson says. “I'm going to go completely rogue and communicate something completely different. You know, [having the] freedom and the platform to do so.”

The stars of Dune: Part Two have certainly been breaking free with their red carpet choices, and it’s been a sight to behold. Ferguson notes that she’s surrounded by fashion showstoppers who shine just as bright even when they’re on their own. “You know, [you] can take everyone individually out, and they would [still] absolutely rocket,” she says.

But Ferguson, who plays Lady Jessica in the Dune series, certainly stands out on her own as well—and the New York premiere look was one of her most personal outfits yet. It’s clear that spur of the moment decisions can sometimes turn out for the best. “We literally just have fun, and sometimes you mess it up,” she tells me. “You know, everything isn't perfect.”

When I tell her that I did in fact love the look, she says that she's happy to hear it. But she adds, “It doesn't really matter as well because some people will like it. Some people won't like it. Some people will think it looks absolutely crazy and masquerades...but that's what's fun. The times that I kind of didn't really see myself because I was a little bit of a beige hideaway. That's not interesting. We're selling a movie...We're making fun for people to talk about and gossip about and hate and love. And, you know, that's what fashion is.”

[honeyandthunderstorms]

hi tea!!

7, 12, 16, 21 and 26 for the fic writing ask for hmm diwgue ;)

mwah <3

hiii sam <333

7. What inspired the idea for the plot?

so obviously, Bridgerton. I was finally sitting down and watching it from the beginning since the third season came out. I ended up getting a little bit more inspired from the first book as well. The scene where Daphne and The Duke get caught kissing by her brother is actually a wee bit different in the book and a little more risqué (I have pics of the scene from the book if no one knows what I'm talking about), so the more recent chapter was always what I had originally planned. I wanted a slow burn, enemies to lovers, slight arranged marriage, regency era, and totally and completely obsessed with each other fic and that is what I've written 🙂‍↕️ I figured others would also want what I want so I decided to give me and the people what they wanted

12. Was there a scene you wished you could have included? Why didn't it fit in?

I really wish I could've gone more into detail with Max buying the bracelet for Charles! It's kind of a missing scene at this point. Max has acknowledged what he felt when he saw the bracelet and why he bought it, but I would've really liked to write that scene out of him going and getting the bracelet. at the time of writing, I wasn't thinking of including a Max pov in the fic at all, but then I did. maybe one of these days I'll write that scene as a one-shot and post it :3

16. What was the easiest scene to write?

the smut scene 🧍🏼‍♀️ if you all haven't realized now, that is what I specialize in and I've been waiting to write it. fun fact: that was the first scene I wrote in the last chapter. I had to write around it after that 😭

21. What is something you didn't expect people to notice or gravitate towards in this fic?

Madam Clara, the moditse. I'm so serious here because people loved her. I got a lot of comments asking to see more of her. she is a feisty beta and I adore her, but I really expected people to gloss over her tbh

26. Wild Card! Ill tell you a fun fact about this fic!

fun fact: none of this fic was very planned out and it is all vibes and whatever I can think of next :) I just knew how I wanted certain aspects to go, but everything is very much just spur of the moment. no outline to guide me, just my heart 🫡

behind-the-scenes fic questions