#morgan shares small joys

[self-made-cages]

Small joys:

Got to get a fair bit of play in at tennis tonight and I got partnered with one of the best in our class

Got a work project done in record time with minimal angst

Booked my flight home for 4th of July

Wore a new sporty top

Listening to Taylor on full shuffle for the first time since TTPD and loving all the whiplash fun

#morgan shares small joys

[updownlately]

i like shiny things (but i'd marry you with paper rings)

randomly thinking about esme morgan and how she made bracelets for the engwnt during their down time and just picturing a reader x alessia where r does origami when they're anxious or in between games. idk if anyone's written this idea before so mb if it's repetitive (i feel like i read an origami-reader fic before but i believe it was with jessie fleming x r) not a fic, not a blurb, just an idea/storyline :) fun fact: an instagram reel prompted this 😅 | alessia russo x reader

~~~

like imagine the first time alessia walks into your shared hotel room to see a handful of paper cranes of different colours laid across the bed, your tongue poking out slightly, eyebrows furrowed as you had a website open on your phone showing you how to make a dragon.

and you're so concentrated you don't hear alessia come in, you just fiddle with the paper and let out a huff when you realize you have to unwind the folds you just did.

it's only when she clears her throat at you, still standing near the door that you snap out of what you're doing, eyes going wide, the dinosaur that looks more like a worm flying out of your hands.

and you'd look at her with an embarrassed look, quickly gathering the seven or so different paper cranes, bringing them towards your lap in a futile attempt to hide em, as alessia would watch you with a fond smile on her face.

or can we talk about how she'd quietly get you more origami paper the next time she goes out with the girls to explore the city, shyly coming back with a fresh pack of origami sheets, this time in pastel colours, shades you absolutely adored.

the way she'd enter the room anxiously, thumb playing with the ring on her finger as she'd hide the package behind her with her other hand, shoulder's curled in, skittish smile on her face.

how you'd wave her in, a huge smile on her face, not suspecting a thing as you chatted with your mother on the phone.

she'd maybe sit on the edge of the bed, a few feet away from you, the papers still hidden as you'd talk animatedly on the phone for a couple more minutes.

it's during that time that alessia would cast her gaze across the room, taking in how many different little paper creations, varying from flowers to cranes to butterflies to shapes like stars and hearts littered the room, smiling tenderly to herself.

and when you'd finish up the call, looking over at the blonde with a large grin on your face you'd already be excited by her mere presence, your golden retriever personality making itself known.

that grin would only grow wider as she would shuffle closer to you, the origami sheets still miraculously hidden (not hard to do really since all your focus was on alessia, your eyes nearly in the shape of a heart) and she'd give you a gentle kiss on your forehead and then lips, before pulling back shyly, the words quiet as they left her.

'i got you a little something...'

you'd tilt your head in question, a singular eyebrow raising as you'd finally notice how her other arm was somewhat awkwardly positioned behind her.

and you'd kind of tense up into a sitting position, concerned at what it could be.

'relax, it's nothing crazy, just a small little item i've been meaning to grab for you'

the words would be gentle, with a slight teasing lilt.

and she'd carefully present you the origami sheets, placing them on the sheet between you two, biting her lip nervously as she'd wait for a reaction.

your eyebrows would scrunch up immediately, hands reaching out to grab the plastic package, examining it as your jaw would drop in a pleasant mix of shock and joy.

and the way your eyes would widen as you'd read the text on around the item, the words 'origami paper' written clear as day, your heart feeling so full, warmth coursing through your veins as you'd realize that alessia had noticed your stack was running out, even going as far as to get them in colours you loved.

the papers would gently be thrown to the side as everything would click, you launching yourself at the blonde, arms coming to immediately wrap around her shoulders and neck as you'd bury your face in her neck.

your excited 'thank you' would be muffled with how tightly you were hugging her, your grin from earlier returning, only now it was nearly twice the size.

the blonde would chuckle gently at your delighted state, hugging you back with just as much enthusiasm, placing a gentle kiss to your temple just before you'd pull back, nearly shaking with elation.

placing a few loving kisses onto her lips you'd mumble another thank you in between them, pulling away once your couldn't contain your excitement.

and you'd rip into the new packaging, old papers be damned because your girlfriend got you these and they were immediately, undoubtedly the better papers now.

and eventually, as it would become time to check out of the hotel a few days later, alessia would find herself once again standing in the middle of the room, this time the whole room nearly taken over by butterflies, dragons (which you now finally mastered), toads, cranes, rabbits, stars, hearts, chains, and like twenty other things, some in various colours of the rainbow, and more than half of them made of the pastel origami sheets. (it was clear to see you had a favourite, evident by the way nearly half the pastel paper had already been used).

and then can we talk about how maybe you both would be coming back from a really tiring game, the whole engwnt sat on the bus, the two of you choosing to sit closer to the middle-front-ish area, alessia knowing you preferred the peace and quiet as you'd fold paper and calm down from the exhilarating events of the game.

so you'd sit there, a pair of wired earbuds shared between you two as the paper pad would be precariously balancing on your thighs, rattling with every bump and uneven surface of the road.

alessia would be sat beside you, watching you with a lovestruck face as you'd continue to do fold after fold, making something new this time, what it was, alessia didn't know, you wanting to surprise her.

what she did notice however was that you had two pieces of paper out, one that was her favourite colour, and one that was your favourite colour- surely that couldn't be a coincidence, right?

and as teammates saw you back at your usual task, very much accustomed to your tendency to relax by creating little items, they let you be, a few gently requesting you for a rabbit or dragon (stanway nearly begging you to make her dinosaur, pestering you until you had finally agreed with a quiet 'later' with a fond eye roll).

you'd been very much focused since though, head nodding along to the music, the familiar 'furrowed eyebrows' look on your face, tip of your tongue peeking out as you did meticulous fold after fold, tilting your body ever so slightly so alessia couldn't make out exactly what you were creating.

it was only when you were done, two small heart rings resting in the palm of your hand, one each in your and alessia's favourite colour, did you turn around, a bashful smile on your face as you hid the two papers in a loosely closed fist.

quickly scanning to make sure no one was watching, your fear of being teased for your sappiness emerging, your leg shook with nervous energy as you realized the coast was clear.

'i made you- us- i made us paper rings in our favourite colours.'

the words would come out slightly rushed, a soft blush coming to coat your cheeks as alessia's eyes widened in joyful shock,

'i'll get you a proper one eventually, this is just a promise of that in the meantime...'

and alessia would shrug at your words, a lovesick smile crossing her face as she'd examine the heart-shaped ring intently, absolutely adoring the way it rested on her hand, loving it more than any other jewellery she owned simply because it was made by you.

and placing the ring-clad hand up to rest on your cheek, the blonde would nudge you to look at her, bringing your faces close as she'd place a gentle but loving kiss on your lips, pulling back only a few centimetres as sky blue eyes would meet yours, her next words a whispered secret between you, eliciting twin smiles, lovestruck looks crossing both of your faces.

'as long as it's you i'm marrying, i'd happily do it with paper rings.'

#not proofread #ilst #fluff #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso community #my writing #storylines

[thedancingcostumeyoungadult]

Everything and more - S.R.

I said that this might take a while then I wrote it in a day oops.

Word count ~1200

Pairing: Spencer Reid/fem!pregnant!Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

A small collection of moments with Spencer as you prepare for your daughter's arrival, a continuation of Unimpressed. There's a part 3 here

The soft rumble of Spencer’s voice wakes you, your eyes blinking open in the dark as you lie on your side. In your sleepy haze you assume that he got a call, but as you wake up a little, you realize he isn’t on the phone. Without moving, you peer through the darkness at your husband, joy and love rising in your chest as you realize what he’s doing.

He lies beside you, curled up with his face pressed close to your belly. His fingers trace light circles on the skin just below your navel as he whispers to the bump, some passage from a book you’ve never read. Your belly jumps as the baby shifts, a foot or a fist poking out.

“Shh,” you can hear the smile in his voice even though you can’t see it, “you’re gonna wake your mom.” His palm rests flat on your side, his thumb brushing side to side over the skin where the baby had moved and he leans closer.

His lips brush your skin and you fight not to let the touch tickle, you don’t want to disturb the moment even as his touch sends warmth sparking through your body..

He continues, “She’s doing such a good job making you, little one. And you’re doing such a good job growing.” You smile to yourself, once again reminded, like you are every day, why there is no one you would rather be your baby’s father. Spencer’s lips leave your skin and his whispering resumes, no longer from a book, but something you recognize.

“She walks in beauty, like the night,

Of countless climes and starry skies;

All that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow’d to that tender light

Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.” As you realize his choice of authors, you can’t help but snort softly.

“You’re reciting Byron to our daughter? Byron?” He jumps at your voice, his surprised eyes finding yours in the darkness before a wide smile splits his face.

“I happen to like that poem, thank you.” He murmurs with faux indignation as he scoots up to be level with you, his hand still resting on your belly. You quirk an eyebrow at him, a matching grin spreading across your face as he catches your lips softly with his own.

“How long have you been awake?” He pulls away slightly, smoothing your hair back.

“I couldn’t sleep.” His admission tugs on your heartstrings, but another sensation overtakes it.

“Well how about a late-night drive?” Spencer catches on right away, chuckling and shaking his head.

“Somewhere with a drive through?” He asks, tapping your nose lightly. You nod and laugh with him, patting his face affectionately.

“Yep, now help me up, pretty boy.”

~

"I just don't know what to do, she’s always so uncomfortable and there's nothing I can do to help." Reid whines, slumping defeatedly into his desk chair and throwing his hands up. Morgan chuckles as he leans against the desk.

“Yeah, the last couple of weeks are rough. But it sounds like you’re doing everything right, pretty boy.” JJ appears at his shoulder, a few case files tucked under her arm.

“Hey Spence.” Her gaze flickers over his slumped form and tired eyes and she raises her eyebrows, sharing a knowing look with Morgan. “How’s she doing?” Spencer swipes his hand down his face.

“She’s resting as much as she can, but the baby’s putting pressure on her spine.” His brows furrow. “I just wish I could help somehow.”

A lightbulb goes off in Morgan’s head.

“Wait, JJ there was that one thing you told me about when Savannah was pregnant that helped her.” JJ lights up in response, snapping her fingers.

“Of course! Good thinking Morgan.” Spencer shoots forward in his chair, practically hanging off their words.

“What? What is it?” His gaze flicks between the two of them desperately as JJ sets the files on his desk so her hands are free.

“Okay, so what you do is you stand behind her and you put your hands under her belly like this.” She demonstrates, cupping her hands in front of her, “And you just lift up a little and hold it for her. It’ll take the weight off her body. The first time Will did it for me I almost cried.” Spencer looks between them, aghast, his jaw hanging slack.

“That’s not in any of the books! How-how didn’t I know that?” He sputters indignantly. Morgan laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Relax, pretty boy, you know now.”

~

You are standing in the living room when you hear the door and only a few moments later Spencer sidles up behind you, his hands snaking around your waist and drawing you close. You let your head fall back against his shoulder with a soft sigh, the warmth and support of his chest easing some of the ache in your back.

"Hi." You breathe, turning your head to the side so you can nuzzle against his neck.

"Hey beautiful." He presses a kiss to your temple, "How are you feeling?" You twist, pouting up at him.

"My back hurts, she's heavy." You complain and his heart twists in sympathy. His hands rub soothing circles on your belly, the warmth of his hands going straight through the thin material of your tank top as he fits himself even closer against your back. You sigh again, your hands coming up to cover his.

"Can I try something? I think it'll help." He murmurs, brushing his nose against your ear.

"God, please, anything." You beg, shifting your weight in an effort to ease the discomfort in your back and hips. Spencer soothes you, tucking his face against your neck as his hands slide downwards. He wraps his arms tighter around you, his hands cradling the underside of your belly. When he’s satisfied that his hands are properly placed, he lifts gently, taking the weight of the baby off of your body. Your head falls back against his shoulder as a moan fall from your lips. Relief floods your body as your spine sits comfortably for the first time in months, the deep ache in your lower back easing.

Spencer can’t help but smile against your neck as you melt against him, realizing that he is technically holding his daughter for the first time.

“Oh, Spencer Reid, you are a god among men.” He kisses your shoulder with a chuckle.

“No I’m not. You, however,” another kiss, “are divine.” It's your turn to laugh.

“You flatter me.” Lifting his head from your shoulder, he noses against your cheek, his forehead pressing against the side of your face.

“You deserve it.” You don’t answer, you just let him hold you in warm silence. Spencer breaths you in, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He still sometimes has trouble believing that this is real, that you are real. There have been times that he thought he would live the rest of his life and never feel this kind of peace, never love and be loved like this. But here he is, holding his wife and his unborn daughter, in the home they’d made together. And it was everything he’d ever dreamed of. Everything and more.

*just some extra soft Spencer bc he deserves is and frankly so do we*

*please like and reblog!*

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #jeanie writes #spencer reid fanfic #cw pregnancy

[south-of-heaven]

Rhea Ripley x reader x Liv Morgan taking a bunch of abandoned kittens home?

Kittens || Rhea Ripley x Reader x Liv Morgan

Summary: When you and your girlfriends find a bunch of abandoned kittens by the side of the road you can't just leave them there.

A/N: I did in fact pick names of animals Liv and Rhea have/has had.

The engine's hum faded as you pulled over to the side of the road, your eyes catching the faint movement near the curb. Illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, a small cluster of kittens huddled together, abandoned and vulnerable.

You and your girlfriends, Rhea and Liv, shared a weakness for animals that was impossible to ignore. The mere sight of those tiny furballs stirred something in your collective hearts, compelling you to stop and investigate.

Liv, always the first to jump into action, exclaimed, "Oh, my gosh! Look at them!" Her eyes widened with a mix of excitement and concern.

Rhea, with her tough exterior, cracked a small smile, unable to resist the appeal of the little felines. "We can't just leave them here."

With a unanimous decision, the three of you stepped out of the car, drawn to the soft mewing of the kittens. They were barely a few weeks old, their eyes still sealed shut, shivering in the chilly night air.

Liv crouched down, gently picking up one of the kittens. "We're taking them home, right?" she declared, her tone leaving no room for debate.

You nodded, already envisioning a cozy corner of your shared home filled with blankets and a makeshift bed for the newfound furry companions.

Rhea, usually the voice of reason, was surprisingly on board. "Yeah, we're taking them home."

In a makeshift rescue operation, you used a cardboard box from your trunk to carefully gather the kittens. Liv cradled one in her arms while Rhea secured the rest. The car ride home was filled with cooing and laughter as the kittens explored their temporary cardboard abode.

Once home, you transformed a quiet corner of your living room into a kitten haven. Soft blankets, a small box for shelter, and bowls of warm milk were arranged with love. Liv couldn't resist naming each one, and soon enough, you had a litter of new family members — Rumble, Mazikeen, Mania, and Ryuk.

As you and your girlfriends watched over the kittens, feeding them and marveling at their playful antics, a shared warmth settled in the room. It was more than just the joy of saving these little lives; it was the realization that your love for each other extended to the creatures you welcomed into your home.

Rhea, usually the stoic one, found herself laughing as one of the kittens clumsily batted at a toy. Liv, with her vibrant energy, was enchanted by their antics. And you, caught in the middle of this adorable chaos, couldn't have asked for a more perfect night.

In that unexpected moment on the side of the road, you didn't just find kittens; you found a shared commitment to compassion and care, a testament to the strength of your bond with Rhea and Liv. The kittens, now part of your little family, purred contentedly, blissfully unaware of the love they had stumbled upon that fateful night.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #rhea x reader #rhea ripley x liv morgan #liv morgan x reader #liv morgan #liv morgan x reader x rhea ripley #liv 4 brutality #l4b

[misspearly1]

The One and Only Gal

Part One of this story is from my kinktober (day two: thigh riding)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x You (F!Reader)

WC: 5.3k

Summary: After a passionate moment shared between you and Arthur in the woods, you head back to camp together and the painful situation with Jenny still remains. She stole the job you put together and claimed it as her own. What else will she try to steal from you?

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI Please! Jealousy & Drama from Jenny. Frustration & Anger from Reader and Arthur. Angst - with happy ending ofc. Smut. Mentions of Thigh Riding and Male Masturbation (from the 1st chapter). Fingering. Thigh Job (non penetrative sex). Oral (F receiving). Overstimulation. Praise Kink. Use of 'Good Girl'. Lots of fluff. If I have missed anything in the warnings, please let me know and I will add it in.

AN: Oh, I've been needing to visit my kinktober and write a whole lot of part 2's for some of the stories I wrote. Since I have a oneshot for Arthur in the works right now, I took a break from that story and started writing this one. I hope you enjoy, my loves!

Deep panting breaths could be heard echoing throughout the woods from you and Arthur, the sound of you both so exhausted and completely spent after multiple rounds of self-pleasure. He still had his hand wrapped around his length as your grinding movements over his thigh gradually came to a stop. The mess you left between your legs and the mess he had made all over his stomach and the inside fabric of his jeans was a testament to your mutual sense of satisfaction. 

You’re tired – both of you are, and pleasure still courses through your burning sex with overstimulation despite not even feeling the man inside of you yet. That’s a whole different form of pleasure to feel some other day, but right now, you need rest and so does he. You’ve been out here for a while now and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes looking for you both, the sight of you sitting on Arthur’s lap with a blissed out expression not something you want people to see. It’s a private moment only for you and him to share. 

The idea of riding his thigh never occurred to you before. You’ve only ever dreamed of him taking care of you in other ways; such as using his fingers, mouth or cock. Would you do it again though? Yes. Yes you would. It's an intimate experience you’d love to try out again in the future with Arthur, but this is the first time you’ve ever been intimate with him. You don’t know what this means or how it changes things between you and the man, and before you go any further with him, you want to know where he stands. 

“Arthur,” you call his name in a whisper, your voice sounding small and timid with a fear of rejection. “I really liked what we’ve just done together, but is that all it will be between us?” You ask, noticing the slight disappointment in his eyes as he furrows his brows, indicating that he’s not understood your question quite as you intended. You reiterate: “I want this to be more. I really like you and I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”

Instantly, his shoulders relax with a sigh of relief slipping past his lips, “Me too,” he breathes, “I want more more too, sweetheart. I’ve liked you for a long time now,” he smiles deeply, the crows feet around his beautiful eyes displaying the joy he felt when hearing you say those words. 

Both of you felt that weight disappear from your shoulders. There was no more uncertainty. You had a strong feeling that he was attracted to you, but you never could be too sure and didn’t want to wrongfully assume. But now that you know for certain, you lean in the plant a kiss on the man's lips — the first kiss. 

Moaning together as one, you feel his tongue slide along your bottom lip requesting entry and respond by deepening the kiss. You tilt your head to the side, your fingers slipping through his slightly dishevelled hair and feel that his skin hot to the touch. The man holds you tightly, his hands finding purchase on the globes of your ass with a groping squeeze that just draws out the most prettiest sounds you could make. It was music to Arthur’s ears. You’ve whined and whimpered for him plenty in the last thirty minutes, yet he’s feeling eager to hear more; to hear just how loud you can moan his name. 

Suddenly pulling away at the sound of a branch snapping, you turn your head toward the treeline and immediately relax when seeing it was just a fox. You shake your head at yourself, giggling as you turn back to face Arthur. “Sorry. I don’t want anyone from camp seeing me like this, or… you know,” you look down to his crotch, emphasizing  that he’s still very much exposed and covered in creamy white ropes of his spend. “We should clean up and head back before they send someone out looking for us.” You suggest, to which he agrees, but gently holds the back of your head to lean in and plant a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips. 

When he pulled back, he looked at you with so much affection in his eyes that he almost looked drunk. It’s as if you were intoxicating, and the fact you made the man feel so satisfied without even touching him brought you great pride. He reached into his satchel and retrieved a couple rags, using the items to clean himself off as much as he could, although it couldn’t quite get rid of the wet patch you left on his thigh, or the damp spot he left inside of his jeans either. 

You rolled your lips together to hide the amusement on your face. It’s funny watching Arthur try to clean himself of the mess he made and it wasn’t doing a damn bit of good. “You really need a change of clothes,” you let out a giggle, and the man agrees as he laughs with you. “I know. This isn’t working as well as I hoped,” he says, then turns his head away to save your ears the discomfort as he whistles for his horse before turning back to face you again. “I keep a couple spare sets of clothes on Bo. I’ll get changed then we’ll head back.” 

“O-Ok,” you stutter hesitantly, not particularly loving the idea of heading back to camp so soon. Your night had begun with betrayal because of Jenny and what she did, and even though you feel much better than what you did earlier, it still doesn’t change the fact that she stole the job you put together. It still hurts that she did this to you. 

Arthur noticed the slight change in your demeanour, but didn’t have the chance to question it as Boadicea came galloping out the treeline, tearing his attention away momentarily. You rise to your feet and move toward her, stroking her mane as he rose to his feet too and moved toward his saddle bags. After taking out a fresh set of clothes, he starts undressing, and you look him up and down with praise in your eyes. 

You adore the way Arthur looks, fully clothed or completely in the nude, but this is the first time that you’ve seen him fully nude and his body is most tempting to gaze upon. He watches you watching him, a bashful smile on his lips as his cheeks begin to burn with flattery. Putting his jeans on first and concealing his most private area, you jokingly pout from the loss, already missing the sight of his dick laying heavy and semi-hard against his thigh. He laughs at you, his voice deepened with affection.  

Putting his arms through the holes of his shirt however, you shook your head and reached your hand out to stop him. “No – wait. May I?” You ask, offering your assistance with the buttons. He doesn’t deny your request and takes your hand to swiftly pull you into his embrace. “Sure, darlin’,” he replies with a thick drawl, “Go ahead.” 

Your body pressed against his bare chest was stirring something fierce in your nether regions. He’s a big guy, muscular and cushiony, thus making you feel intimidatingly small. You grin under his wanton gaze, then begin buttoning his shirt from the bottom upwards, your knuckles grazing against his skin with a featherlight touch. It made him shudder and close his eyes, a heavy exhale escaping his lips as he fully relaxed his shoulders. 

You’ve reduced the man to something pliable like soft putty in your hands, the expression on his face speaking of nothing but satisfaction and contentment. Once you had finished buttoning his shirt, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at you again, his hand sliding up your spine to hold the back of your neck. He held you in place as he leaned in to kiss you, slowly this time, his lips moving in tandem with yours passionately. 

It took a while for you and Arthur to finally make your way back to camp. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, nor could you keep your hands off him, but once you emerged from the treeline and approached the gang huddling around something, reality quickly settled in and all of those bothersome emotions came racing back. Jenny was still receiving praise for the job she stole from you. Everyone was talking to her about it. You could even hear the girls complimenting her now, and the sound of Karen applauding her efforts made your blood boil. 

Arthur noticed for a second time that something changed in your demeanour, and now that he didn’t have any distractions this time, he pulled you close and asked point blank: “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’re squeezing my hand.” 

“I am?” You turn to face him, then let go of his hand and quietly apologize for squeezing him. You didn’t even realize that you were, but you tried to hide the furious look in your eyes. You’re not really a hot-headed person. Whenever you get so angry like this, you put distance between you and the issue before returning with a calm mind, but nothing about Jenny and the gang commending her was making you feel better. “I um. I don’t really want to get into it, Arthur. It’s stupid and not worth the hassle anyways,” you reply, your eyes downcast. 

“Hey,” he whispers, placing his finger under your chin to lift your head and look at him, “It is worth the hassle and it’s not stupid, sweetheart. I won’t push, but you know you can talk to me, right?” You hold his line of sight, your eyes darting between his with the temptation to tell him everything about Jenny. What could he do about it anyway? Would anyone believe you? And what if it just creates a bigger problem? You don’t want to be the cause for creating problems. You’d much prefer to just let it go, even though you’ve done nothing wrong. 

“I know,” you nod to the man, choosing to not say anything about it instead. “Thank you, Arthur. I promise to not let it bother me too mu-” you’re cut off with impeccable timing as the sound of Jenny’s voice shrieks behind you. “Oh, Arthur! There you are!” She says, and you move to stand at his side as she approaches you both with speed. “I was wondering where you went. Come on, we have lots to discuss about robbing the saloon tomorrow,” she glances at you briefly before her eyes focused on the proximity between you and Arthur, “Y/N, you don't mind, right? We need to go over the details. Hosea, Arthur and me. Just the three of us,” she grins, and it pisses you off, but you bite your tongue and agree wordlessly with a nod. 

Arthur turns to you now, smiling obliviously, “I shouldn’t be too long. Wait for me in my tent, sweetheart. I ain't finished with ya yet," he winks.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon,” you force a smile before turning away and walking briskly across camp. He was completely unaware of Jenny’s actions just now. That shit eating grin on her face is what annoys you so much. You didn’t think there was any spite behind her reasons to steal your job. You don’t even know for sure why she stole it, but you thought there had to be a good reason at least, and now you think she’s just doing it to be malicious and nasty. 

Or perhaps it’s because she wants Arthur. You saw the way she looked at how close you stood next to him. You noticed the way it depleted her smile for a moment, and just out of curiosity, you looked over your shoulder to find the woman doing the exact same thing. She walked alongside the man, her lip curled with disdain as she looked at you with loathing eyes. You held her eye contact and didn’t back down, not until she broke first. It was a small victory, but you didn’t feel any better about this whole situation and the way she switched up her persona with a beaming smile as she spoke to Arthur and Hosea only confirmed your suspicions. She wants the man you wanted — the man you now have. 

You made it to Arthur’s tent and sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for him. He didn’t take long. No less than ten minutes later, he returned to you, but he came back with a mean look on his face. You couldn’t describe it exactly, but he looked as if he’d just been told something quite upsetting. You immediately rose to your feet and tried to calm him down, but he held his hand out to stop you. “This job with the saloon tomorrow. Was this your idea or Jenny’s? Don’t lie to me,” he said with vexation in his tone. 

You immediately became silent, a gloomy look washing over your face that ultimately answered the man's question. He turned away from you, palming the scruff of his neck as he tried to calm himself down before turning back to you again. “Is this what’s been botherin’ ya? Did she steal that idea from you, or did you give her this job?” He asks, and you shake your head, your brows knitting together tightly with confusion as to what’s got him so worked up in the space of ten minutes. 

“No. She stole it from me. I told her about it in confidence,” your lip trembles as you hold back the urge to cry. You’ve never seen Arthur so angry like this before – well, not in your presence at least. It was alarming and scary. You’re not scared of him, or worried for your safety. You’re worried for whoever he is angry with.

“God. I am so sorry, girl,” he apologizes, even though he didn’t need to. He had nothing to be sorry for as he’s done nothing wrong to you, but the man simply couldn’t stand the look on your face and felt the need to apologize regardless. You tried to fight the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes, too many emotions all at once proving to be too much for you to handle. He strode towards you, taking you in a warm hug and wrapped his arms around your back tightly. “I’m really sorry for raising my voice like that. I wasn’t mad with you, I promise,” he swears, rubbing his hands up and down your back reassuringly. “I'm mad at Jenny. She just tried to kiss me.” 

“Oh my God - Really?” You pull your head back to look into his eyes, your brows still furrowed together with confusion as to what the hell happened since he left you earlier. “What happened?” You ask, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, laughing humorlessly. “You weren’t there. That’s what happened,” he shakes his head, “I know she wouldn’t have tried that shit if you were there, but I should’a seen this coming… Fuck. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” 

“It’s not your fault, Arthur,” you reply in a reassuring tone. He moves towards the opening of his tent and closes it, sealing you both with some much needed privacy before moving toward the bed with you to sit down. He held your hands and you could sense his worry in the way he was holding onto you. 

“Jenny mentioned something about my journal, something I’ve only ever told you before,” you gasp with that, knowing exactly what he’s referring to as you shared a piece of information with her. It’s not some big secret. It’s just a job that he and Hosea did a while back. He continues to explain. “I knew something wasn’t right the moment she started talking about that job. She noticed that I was onto her, and when I began questioning how she found this saloon job for tomorrow, she tried to kiss me.” 

“That doesn’t really surprise me. I had a feeling she wanted you,” you admit, to which he responds with certainty in his tone, “Yeah well, she can’t have me. I’m already spoken for,” he looks directly into your eyes with that statement, smiling, “Will you stay the night with me, sweetheart? I really don’t want ya going out there to face whatever she has to say about me rejecting her. We can deal with it tomorrow if ya want.”

“Honestly, I really like the sound of that,” you nod to the man, then lean into his side and rest your head against his shoulder. “I’ll stay with you, Arthur. I’d prefer that anyway. It’s too cold in my tent some nights.” 

“It’s ‘cause you don’t have me there to keep ya warm, girl,” he chuckles, and you agree with him silently. You wouldn’t be so cold during the night sometimes if you had him laying with you. Even now as you lean into his side, you can feel the heat emanating from him and it makes you feel so cozy that you could fall asleep right here, right now.

When you begin to yawn though, and cause him to yawn too, he leans down to remove his shoes, and afterwards, he moves on to removing your shoes too, the gentle touch of his hands causing your skin to pimple with goosebumps. Once your shoes were off, he began dragging the pad of his fingers across your ankle, smiling mischievously. 

“S-Stop,” you stutter between laughter, “I’m t-ticklish there. Arthur, stop… It tickles,” you giggle uncontrollably, the sound so sweet and euphonious to his ears that he didn’t want to stop just so he could keep hearing you laugh like this. It warmed his hear to hear you happy again.

Showing you some mercy and easing up on the tickling, he stood to his feet and began taking off his clothes, getting himself ready for bed. “I hope you don’t mind, but I like to cuddle,” he says. 

“Not at all. I like to cuddle too,” you begin removing your clothes as well, but remember that your undergarments are still damp from what you and Arthur did earlier. “Um, Arthur?” You look at him with a bashful expression, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “I can’t wear this for bed. They’re uh… They’re still wet. Do you want me to go get another pair of bed clothes?”

“Nah, darlin’,” he shook his head softly, his eyes glossed over with desire, “I can give you one of my shirt’s if ya want? Or you can sleep without any clothes. Whatever you're most comfortable with, I don’t mind either way.”

Instead of answering him with words, you started pulling down the straps on your shoulders and let your undergarment fall to the floor, completely exposing yourself for the man's eyes to admire. He gulped audibly when dropping his gaze to your chest. You watched him bring his hand around to palm his crotch, no doubt feeling the blood rushing to his member. 

“Would yer mind if I remove my clothes too?” He asks sweetly, standing with nothing but his leotard on. You shake your head and let him know that you’d actually prefer him to remove his clothes, opting to sleep together nude instead.

Once he had fully undressed, he pulled the covers back on his bed and climbed in first, making sure there was ample room for you to lay down and get comfy. The moment you felt the warmth of his chest pressed against your back however, you let out a deep hum of satisfaction and scooted back to be even closer to him.

“Is this ok?” He asks another question before going any further, his hand resting on your hip with the desire to wrap around your front. You don’t even answer the man. You just grab his hand and pull it around your stomach, a smile splayed across your face. 

Arthur carefully leans over you and blows out the candle beside his bed, casting his entire tent in complete darkness before settling back into his position. Only this time, he nestled his chin into your neck and pulled the blankets up to keep you both wrapped up securely. The heat was already working its magic with helping you unwind and become sleepy. You held his hand and rubbed his knuckles with your thumb until you eventually slipped into a comfortable deep state of slumber. 

Sometime later, you awoke first at the sound of Arthur snoring softly in your ear, the sound was hushed and calm, as if he were trying to be quiet even in his sleep. You could feel your body sticking to his because of how hot it was under the blankets. And, your forehead was damp with sweat and so was his hand over your stomach.

“Arthur,” you call his name, your voice barely above a whisper as it was still dark outside. He stopped snoring and hummed reply, not fully awake but conscious. “I’m too hot,” you say whilst pulling the blankets down a little to feel the cool night-time breeze on your skin. It was an instant relief and you closed your eyes again, falling asleep within seconds. 

In the morning when you awoke again, the blankets were placed back over you and Arthur still had his chest pressed to your back. He wasn’t snoring anymore though, and you could feel his fingers rubbing your knuckles now. He’s awake, but rather than letting him know that you’re awake too, you subtly pushed your ass into him, enjoying the little grunt slipping past his lips.

He smiled against your neck, responding to your actions just now by rolling his hips forward. You could feel his cock pressing into your lower back. It was painfully hard, making your legs squeeze together with a palpable pulse in your nether regions. 

“Are you awake, sweetheart?” He mumbles, and you reply with a barely noticeable nod, your lips slowly turning upwards as he lowers his hand to your sex. Your mouth falls open with a soft gasp when the pad of his finger finds your clit and begins rubbing it in a circular motion.

You drop your hand to hold his, urging him without a need for words that you want more, and he grants you wish eagerly. Now, he uses two fingers to slide through your folds, using your slick as a natural lube to breach your entrance. “Ohh,” you moan into the pillow, the cushion doing very little to keep you quiet. 

“There you go. Let it all out, darlin’,” he praises you, growling into your ear, “Atta girl-” you rut back and forth, fucking his hand, “-Keeping going, just like that.” Your breathing begins to pant as he penetrates his fingers deeper, curling them into a come hither motion to caress that sweet spot inside.

You whine for him, the sound like a reward as he starts groaning in your ear, his cock rubbing against your back to get himself off. “Arthur wait-” you squeeze his hand, shaking your head, “-Use your cock instead. I want to feel you rub yourself between my legs like that.” 

Carefully, he removes his fingers from your cunt and you moan from the loss. He slips his hand between your bodies and lifts your thigh to notch the head of his between your folds. “Like this?” He asks while rolling his hips forward then backward, the tip of him stimulating your clit blissfully.

“Yes – yes,” you breath heavily, your skin burning with lust, “God yes… keep doing that,” you beg and he lowers your thigh to hold onto your hip for leverage. You arch your back, the angle giving him plenty of room to glide through your folds as your desire soaked his cock and your thighs. He buries his face into your neck and groans deeply, his voice shrouded in pleasure.

Keeping his thrusts gentle but quick, you feel your orgasm approaching and warn him. “I’m gonna cum,” you say, and he wraps his arm around your stomach, pinning your body to his as he grunts. “Me too, sweetheart.” 

Kissing your neck as he breathing begins to stutter and choke, you listen to all those sexy noises he made and slipped over the edge together, reveling in the plentiful creamy warm ropes of his spend coating your pussy. You feel his cock twitching as he thrusts a couple more times, as if releasing every drop he could possibly give before finally relaxing behind you, though his breathing was still heavy as he gradually came down from his high. “Fuck. I’ve never done that before,” he murmurs, his voice laden with exhaustion. 

“Me neither,” you laugh, “I just thought it would feel better for you than rubbing yourself against my back.” 

“Oh, it did feel better,” he chuckles breathily. You lay together in silence for a few minutes, relishing in the post-coital bliss of your love making. It’s yet another act of pleasure you’ve both enjoyed without penetrative sex. You know when the time comes to feel him inside of you it’s going to be out of this world, but up until yesterday, you’ve never been intimate with Arthur. Suppose you’re just easing yourselves into the pleasure, not jumping right into it with sex first. You like this approach. It helps getting to know his body and what he likes. 

Leaning over your body carefully and retrieving yet another rag from his satchel, he wets the fabric with some water from his canteen and cleans off the mess between your legs, the action making you whimper when he touches your sensitive area.

“Lay on your back for me, kitten,” he requests, and you oblige, laying on your back for him as he moves down your body, situating his face between your thighs. “Think you got another orgasm left in ya?” He asks, his eyes darting at your clit, “Mmm. I want a taste of this pretty cunt of yours.” 

“Maybe,” you answer honestly whilst spreading your legs for him, “I’m still feeling sensitive, but as long as you take it slow, I should be okay, hon,” he smiles with the term of endearment, his cheeks blossoming a rosy pink in colour. “Of course, kitten,” he whispers reassuringly, a promise in his tone to take things slow.

He leans in and plants a kiss on your inner thigh first, his beard and moustache working wonderfully to tickle your skin in the best way. You shudder beneath him and feel his lips dragging up your leg, nearing your burning heat.

“Oh, look at you,” he growls mockingly, “Clenching around nothing, girl. Mhmm…and that ass looks so tight,” he touches you there, touches you where no one has ever touched you before — not even yourself. Your body jerks away from him naturally as you shake your head, and he reassures, “Don’t worry, darlin’. Only when you’re ready.” 

“But what if I’m never ready, Arthur?” You let out a nervous laugh, to which he leans in to kiss your inner thigh again, mumbling against your skin. “Then it’s ok, sweetheart. You don’t gotta do anything outside of your comfort zone with me.” You look down at your body, gazing into his eyes with a warm appreciative smile on your lips. You appreciate that he isn’t like other guys who would try to persuade you to try anal, even though you never once thought he would be persuasive like that anyways, but you appreciate it nonetheless. He sees and feels your hesitancy, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re not so keen on the idea. 

“Can I…” he trails off in a daze, looking at your pussy before looking back into your eyes, “Can I kiss your pussy, sweetheart?” He asks, and you love that he’s asking your permission beforehand. You nod feverishly, watching him with focus as he leans in to press his lips against your clit, the sensation making your eyes close instantly with a whimpering moan slipping past your lips, the sound giving him a boost of confidence to continue. You feel his tongue slipping between your folds, circling your clit a few times before finding the right rhythm that gives you the most pleasure – left and right rapidly. 

Oh, the noises he made were sinful and impure, grunting and groaning into your cunt like a man starved as he slurped on your desire. You started to moan and didn’t stop, your pitch gradually getting so high that you had to bite the back of your hand and silence yourself. That only fuelled Arthur’s playfully sadistic nature. He wanted to make you scream and cry his name to the high heavens above, for the whole camp to hear you being pleasured like no one else has ever pleasured you before. He held the back of your thighs and lifted them up in the air, the angle giving him more room to suck on your clit now and ease two fingers deep inside of you, massaging your g-spot. 

“Arthur!” You sob. Gripping his hair by the handfuls, he groans with you, the vibrations of his voice blissful and electrifying. Your thighs begin to shake violently, your toes curling as you see stars. It all happened so fast, yet your orgasm was prolonged as he didn’t stop licking and sucking on your bruised clit until it became too much for you to bear, the lower half of your body jolting away from him with overstimulation. He eased up and moved his head away, teasing you with chaste kisses on your swollen nub and watching the way you spasm with aftershocks of pleasure.

“Feel good, kitten?” He asks upon noticing the tears falling from the corners of your eyes. You nod to him and mewl pathetically, looking at him with a blissed out expression on your face. “Yes baby,” you say between panting breaths, “Y-yes… It f-feels so g-good.” 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises with a devilish smirk on his lips, “Think you can give me another one, beautiful?” 

“Arthur,” you bark out a laugh, shaking your head at him. He laughs with you and plants one last kiss on your cunt before moving up your body. If you could handle another round or more, he’d happily spend hours between your legs but you’re completely spent and the cramp in your lower abdomen needed time to ease off.

He rested his weight on you evenly, his forearms placed in the mattress at either side of your head as he leans in and closes the gap. You sample a taste of your own desire on his tongue, moaning together in unison as his cock presses against you before he pulls back to ask: “You wanna head out today? I’ll take you somewhere nice. Just the two of us.” 

“I would love that, but what about the saloon job?” You ask, hating that a beautiful moment between you and the man is ruined with the remembrance of what happened last night with Jenny. You didn’t want to let her ruin your mood and tried to stay positive, and what Arthur told you next made you feel ten times better.

“I’m not doing it without you, and since Jenny wouldn’t step back to let you come along when I asked her, I told Charles to take my place,” he said, and you stared into his eyes with a lot of love and appreciation. It meant a lot that he would pass up the opportunity to do something he really enjoys with Hosea. It meant a lot that he would do that for you. 

Once you both had eventually peeled yourself away from each other, got cleaned up and dressed, you exited your tent and made your way to the horses, hearing your names in the whispers. You and Arthur were the talk of camp. People seemed to be excited that you two were finally together, and in the middle of it all, stood Jenny with a regretful look on her face not only fucking up one friendship, but with two.

Maybe one day with some time and patience, you and Arthur will forgive her. After all, he is an exceptionally handsome man and you can’t really blame any woman for finding him so damn attractive. 

However, there’s no doubt in your mind that you are his one and only gal.

Tagging

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#Arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fluff #pearlyfics #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #enjoyreaders

[reveseke]

Unreasonable for the time

–Criminal minds; BAU x unsub! male! reader – Requested(link) by @jaythes1mp, also tagging @lovelybeardedsuit – not the proudest moments for me with writing, i'm painfully aware it's not excalty what you requested but loosely around it if i can say so? went in for romantic feelings and came back by admiration and appreciation pipe(?). also apologies it's taken me quite the while to write. - warnings; uhh smallish nitpick at grotesque description maybe? human taxitermy + (aspiring/well known) artist/taxitermist reader. evidence withholding is mainly used as a tactic of sabotaging. The reader has burns on his hands for some reason. nothing really, lemme know if i missed something. – oh, also since i don't write for Rossi or the women of the BAU team romantically you have to suffer with mainly Reid, Morgan, and Hotch being unreasonable. there's no real ending here either, i wrote it in one sitting brain on speed dial bc i got fed up with drafts. i'll see myself out now. – WC; 1,255 k

the case was supposed to be an average one, but that hope turned to ash as the team had a look at the case file. There had been a surge in numbers when it came to cold cases dropping like flies every now and then over the past few months. two to three new victims, unable to be connected due to them being in different states over the lines. the team wasn't sure what to make out of the situation as they tried to gather everything they needed.

Sweet talking one up, a well dressed man greeted the woman with an open smile as he led her to the shop. tallying up how many he had already collected and how the cat she had brought would be a fine one to mount.

the victims were often found frozen in one place, not literally just mounted and taxitermed. their limbs were broken in several places, often they had a crown made of bones adorned upon their heads-later on those bones weren't theirs but a combination of every victim–as the victims were often laid naked or with a small coverage upon their bodies. Reid had pointed out that they all shared the crown, and often were gutted inside out with their organs removed and replaced by ones made out of clay or glass.

Penelope on the other hand had analyzed the often seen carved or burned into the skin of the victim a signature of an artist. she had spoken about how familiar it looked to her, but she just couldn't find anything with it. maybe the tech could have seen it coming if she had looked to her left in the office she was so often occupied in and decorated with silly things she found joy and comfort in.

that one particular small glass item, even if it seemed so meaningless always carried R/n passion in it as he continued on working with what he had been given. He had to show them, the corruption of the world nobody seemed to understand that wiped the earth off its goodness.

looking at the crime photos and notes that had been sent over and already thought about by the various police who worked on them. the team couldn't help but to wonder whether it was all or if there was more they never found. Hotch spoke along JJ and Prentiss with the victim's families mosty, as Garcia went down the histories and records of the wretched beings along.

Derek had gone to the mortuary, the tech had called them up with a finding from inside the victim's throat and stomach. it was ultimately the only organ that had been left untouched, the stomach of the victim that had been filled to the bring with papers. written and forced down his throat the crimes he had committed with the same symbol that finally started to click as the others saw it.

And Reid had been sent off to the most recent crime scene. to see what would have made the placement of the police significant to the crime. they had seen a pattern in how the unsub placed his work. often it was around the places that matched up with the most vicious parts of their histories. sometimes the vicious part was all about things they did that the public never knew about.

Watching the press conference in his shop, writing down the phone number that had been laid out for anyone to call if they needed to report something suspicious. oh, how he loathed them for overseeing it and doing so little, trying to bury him down so the world never never saw his work. that work R/n bled for, burns adorning his own hands as he scoffed wiping sweat from his brow.

he still couldn't understand why they wished to silence him. ripping the flesh that he had to mount by his own hands and with the assistance of scissors as he opened the chest of the victim in his hands. with glue and wire he rewired the rib cage's bones and broke down the cartilage that held it together on the front of it.

it felt like they were missing something obvious, looking through the files and the reports Reid had asked Garcia to look into the pasts of the victims.

he was a whore, merely someone who slept his way to his position but even R/n had to admit he was a handsome one. he wasn't a model for no reason, but his upbringing while not entirely his own fault didn't slip past him. he didn't care, she had to bleed for her crimes. and hey, they don't speak of true beauty without the pain of it.

it felt surreal to hear the man's voice in the playback video of the stream that he did. Hotch looked forward as he discussed it with Rossi and Garcia. asking the tech to send the video to his tablet so he could show it to the others, as it showcased how the young man was quite literally speaking of his newest victim as an upcoming collab. As Garcia had worried her mind around the signature she did end up recognising as one of the uprising artists' signatures.

it came as a shock to her to learn that he was quite literal with what he meant with his art, he wasn't just showcasing an opinion anymore, it was a question of morals. and neither were the others ready to admit to it, none of them had properly met the man but the way he had made a name for himself really screamed that of innocence, they always felt like something was missing. endangering the case, multiple people had been withholding information due to finding it difficult to actually think such a sweet person would be behind this.

Morgan never told them about all the papers that had text in them that the techs found in the stomach of the multiple victims. how if composed right did end up with a message that sounded that of utter nonsense. in truth it did showcase lots of how his own mind worked and how he had been struggling with it. he intended to turn his pain into art, literally by showcasing what happens to those who lie within this life.

Reid had withheld the history connection between the victims and him, how they had all either known each other or ran into each other at some point in life. he had told Garcia that he would tell the others about it. he never did.

one may call him an utter madman at this point, he was getting sloppier with what he was doing in the first case with the victims. many who viewed his art either were creeped out about the surrealism of it, or either seemed to understand that the man was merely showcasing his emotion fueled art. one finds something as that undescribeable, and others as the most touching thing ever.

yet to all even through his faults none of them found him to be possibly guilty of what had happened. It was unreasonable Prentiss had argued with Hotch about it, before for their unresponsiveness and denying the artist of being the unsub.

none of them really felt ashamed of it, but it did make a surprise for each of the three men that they held the same opinion of the young man.

#male reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds bau #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x male reader #aaron hotchner x male reader #derek morgan x male reader #x male reader #masc reader #spencer reid imagine #derek morgan imagine #bau team #bau imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #dr spencer reid #jennifer jareau #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jj jareau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia

[fernthewhimsical]

Hopepunk Primer pt. 3

How to practice Hopepunk

Find joy in the small things. The flowers growing through concrete, the way the sunlight hits the grass. There is beauty and joy in the small things, but it takes a bit of training to find them. Mindfulness or a gratitude journal (or even a Tumblr sideblog) helps with this training. Hope can be learned, I promise.

Be a pebble. [8] Imagine a tall glass that is half-full with water. Imagine you are a crow. You try to drink the water but you can't reach, the glass is too deep. So you take a pebble and throw it in. The water level rises slightly. Other crows come in with pebbles, and with each pebble the water level rises until finally you all can drink from the glass. There is a lot of focus nowadays in activism circles to be aware of every horrible thing that is going on in the world and to work on each and every one of them. The tough reality is: we can't. We're only human and right now we are all very prone to burn-out. We can't bring change if we are burnt out or have compassion fatigue. So be a pebble. Stay small, perhaps even stay local. If everyone focuses on one thing and focuses their efforts and energy there, we will make it. We'll make the water rise so everyone can drink. Be a pebble.

Stop doom scrolling. It's ineffective and only serves to make us feel more hopeless and demoralized.

Be responsible for your own internet experience. This is related to doom scrolling. Unfollow people who make you feel hopeless and like the fight is useless. Block trolls and don't engage them. Find people who make you feel inspired, invigorated, hopeful. Blacklist tags, block, delete.

Look into hopepunk media. Be inspired by the stories told. Some examples are movires: Lord of the Rings, Mad Max: Fury Road, Pacific Rim. Series: Sense8, the Good Place, Star Trek. Books: Binti by Nnedi Okorafor, A conspiracy of truths by Alexandra Rowland, the Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin. Music: Torches by X Ambassadors, This Yeah by the Mountain Goats, Be More Kind by Frank Turner.

Build/Find your Community. Share what you have, ask for what you need. We're in this together. If you grow your own fruits and vegetables share them with friends and neighbours. Exchange favours like doing a grocery run or offering to watch the kids for a night. Make a tiny library or give & take cabinet. Share skills and resources. This can be done both online and in person, but making a difference locally is easier with boots on the ground, so to speak.

Create. Live authentically. Do things just to do the thing. So much needs to be "content", these days. So much needs to be a "side hustle" or "monetized". Resist. Create because it makes you feel good. Because you want to. Create bad art, sing off key, swing your arms wildly and call it dancing, write edgy poetry, create Mary Sue self-inserts. Live.

Resist capitalism. Reuse, recycle, repair, thrift, make, trade, etc.

Vote. If you really want to make a difference get out there and vote. Especially in the US they do not want you so rebel and vote. Not just for the president. Voting locally for your representatives will have more of an influence.

Unionize. Alone you beg, together you negotiate. Only together can we make change

Spread hope. Do random acts of kindness, compliment people, share positive things that happened, spread love and joy where you go.

[8] Be a pebble

Further reading:

Alexandra Rowland's Hopepunk Manifesto What is Hopepunk by Vox.com Hopepunk-Humanity blog on Tumblr Hopepunk: A Genre, Philosophy and Movement by Lexi Drumonde (Video) Intro to Hopepunk by Morgan Hazelwood (Video)

Part 1: Intro and history Part 2: Philosophy of Hopepunk Part 3: How to practice hopepunk and further reading Part 4: Extra! Hopepunk and magic

#witchblr #hope #hopepunk #mine #personal #divider by saradika

[hotchnerobsessed]

Hey, hope you're doing good today 🤠 Congratulations on 1k 🙌🏾 For your celebration, can i get "I swear it was an accident" 🍎💗🥰🤕🚔 please 🥺

Thank you so much 🥰🥰 I'm doing wonderful, and I hope you are too! Thank you for sending in a request!

Warnings: comfort, clumsy reader, description of injury, small mention of blood

Be A Part Of The Celebration / Celebration Masterlist

**********

It was too late to do anything to stop it from happening, as you felt your knee give out from underneath you. One wrong step on the uneven, rotting wood had sent you stumbling down the last couple stairs into the dark, damp basement. With a rolled ankle, and what was surely a sprained wrist from when you'd attempted to brace yourself from the fall, you rolled onto your back and laughed softly, "watch your step.." a soft groan accentuating your words.

With much firmer footing than you'd just displayed, Hotch made his way past the spot you'd just fallen victim to, and was by your side in no time. "Are you alright?"

Lifting your hand, you took stock of the blood running down your palm from where you'd evidently cut your hand on a sharp rock, or, no, even worse as it would appear, a piece of glass. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine."

Your attempt at brushing off his concern didn't go as planned. With his brows drawn together, Hotch grasped your wrist and examined the gash on your hand. "We need to get this cleaned up." Before you could disagree, he was speaking into his earpiece, "Morgan, I need you and Prentiss down here to finish clearing the basement, we've got a minor injury to attend to."

You rolled your eyes, responding playfully, "I'm fine Hotch, just give me your tie, I'll wrap it up, and we'll be good to go." He raised an eyebrow at you, your joke clearly not sticking the landing, much like yourself moments earlier. "Oh come on," you teased, "it's a minor injury, you said it yourself."

Without a word, he stood up and reached his hand out to you. Sighing, you placed your non-injured hand in his, and allowed him to help you up. Taking a step, you felt the sharp pain from where your ankle had rolled, but you did your best to play it off, "you see?" you took another step, unable to hide the slight limp, "good as new."

Wrapping his arm under yours and around your back, he gave you all the support you needed to walk comfortably up the stairs, that scowl still on his face. Passing the other agents on the way out, he warned, "the stairs are rotten, watch your footing," before leading you to the SUV. Opening the back hatch, he assisted you in sitting on the tailgate as he unzipped the First Aid kit strapped to the inside of the vehicle. "You need to be more careful." His voice was soft, but stern as he grasped your wrist in his hand once more, turning it over and wiping the dirt and streaks of red from your skin.

"I swear it was an accident," you admitted, before sharing a running joke amongst your family at your clumsiness, "my mother always told me there's a reason my middle name isn't Grace." He glanced up at you momentarily, and you could have sworn you saw a twinkle in his eye, like he wanted to laugh at your playful remark, but he was too concerned with making sure you were okay. That only spurred you on, wanting nothing more than to bring that warmth, that joy, that beautiful smile of his, out.

You couldn't help but notice how gentle he was being, and your mind immediately flashed to images of him with his son. "I bet you've had to patch up quite a few soccer injuries, haven't you?"

That did the trick. Even the slightest mention of Jack had Aaron's softer side shining through. With a tiny smirk, he glanced up at you once more, as he gently wrapped the gauze around your hand, "more than I can count." His smirk grew ever so slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as you smiled right back at him.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer ; @red-red-rogue ; @chibsytelford ; @hannahufflepuff ; @mrs-ssa-hotch ; @ivyflowers13 ; @rousethemouse ; @emobabeyy ; @yourdryadwife

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[eaaaazygurl]

Violet Flowers

Pairing - Arthur Morgan x F!reader

Summary - You find John Marston staring at you longer than you'd come to appreciate. As you confront your friend, he can't help but let it slip that Arthur has a big surprise for you.

Wordcount - 7000+ (a long read! May need some time to finish.)

Notes - Slightly modified Canon: Sean was taken by O'driscolls instead of Bounty Hunters, the events of RDR2 take place over the course of years in the three states rather than just one year (because only playing as Arthur for 1 year in game time is CRIMINAL and this is an established long term relationship!) Fluffy Morgan obviously, Dutch being a dick without actually making an appearance, John being a supportive best friend and brother.

PS: My apologies if I have irritated anyone. I've reposted in hopes that the read more works. I didn't realise you actually had to add a read more! So thank you to the person who kindly pointed out that adding one would be a good move ^^

Marston was staring at you again.

The scarred Outlaw stood at the steaming stewpot, sharp eyes stuck to you, unaware that you had obviously taken note.

It was just past 7pm, you had been taking in the thick, pungent aroma of the Bayou Nwa swamps that surrounded the Van Der Linde's new camp; Shady Belle, a quaint rundown plantation house that had been without repair or proper inhabitants for what looked like a decade now. Whilst somewhat unpleasant, you had been here in the stagnant water and shit-filled silt before when you were once just a small posse of seven men and women, all of them friends and family, off to explore the supposed wonders of Saint Denis just beyond the border of the Bayou - or rather - you had gone to scope any easy pickings and see the potentiality of robbing the city's main bank before heading back to your camp in the Heartlands of New Hanover. So yes - you were already accustomed to the smell of rotten corpses and Alligator excrement by now.

You sat idle upon the rotting wooden bench just beside the plantations main doors where you and Sadie had shared a good laugh on the situation of things; Little Jack had returned, saved by the men of the gang. You had never seen Abigail beam a smile so bright as she charged through the commotion to lock her young son into a death grip of a hug, tears of joy streaming down her rosy cheeks as she cried out many thank-you's to the boys. There had been a party that night, one that descended into an entire gang sing-along whilst Javier struck the cords of his trusty guitar. John and Abigail had retreated just after one song, wanting to make Jack comfortable in their new camp, and you had scouted around the group to find your partner: Arthur Morgan.

Your relationship had blossomed the day he returned back to Clemens Point, black and blue and horrifically injured by Colm O'driscoll and his boys. Your extensive knowledge on tending to injuries had come in useful that night and you were able to clean the awful gun wound to Arthur's shoulder whilst effectively voiding any fever or infection. Your feelings towards the Outlaw had been apparent for months; having been good friends for just over a year beforehand, running the O'driscoll Boys from the Heartlands so that your posse and Arthur's gang might be a little safer. Clearly you had pissed them off one too many times, and you spent the next few weeks blaming yourself for Arthur's kidnapp. During those weeks of you aiding Arthur; washing him, tending to his beard and hair and making sure he was well fed and hydrated, you had both admitted to eachother your true feelings. The entirety of the Van Der Linde gang had caught on many months prior but you both had been blissfully unaware until then.

It had been - and still was - a beautiful, fruitful relationship. You were both extremely gentle with eachother, attempting to outmatch the other with gifts, words or physical affection. But, you were also an unstoppable duo when it came to getting jobs done. Wherever your names were known, people knew not to piss the both of you off when you came into town, lest they want a bloodbath.

A deep sigh of relaxation escaped your lungs as you sloped down on the bench in deep thought as you remembered back on the events prior to Shady Belle, ignoring the seats complaints as the beams of wood creeked under your weight. Sadie had left a little while earlier for a small scouting mission around the Bayou alongside Lenny, voicing her goodbyes with a 'See ya later.' Kieran passed on by with a little wave and small nervous smile, prompting you with a cheerful "Afternoon, Duffy."

Your eyes met the little pot of stew just ahead once again, investigating who had gathered round to take a bowl before you decided to go in and offer yourself some of the contents: Tilly, Jack and John were huddled around the pot, Jack attempting to take himself out a ladle of the sloppy liquid.

You eyed John once more out of instinct, feeling his eyes burning into you yet again. You were confused, feeling irritation begin to bubble in the pit of your stomach. Marston knew your relationship with Arthur and he knew what consequences he would be facing if he attempted anything - even now he would be getting a rather hard clip around the back of the head for staring as much as he was. Besides, he had Abigail and they seemed happy! Happier - at least, and yet, he still hadn't taken his eyes off of you. That's when you decided to act, pulling yourself up with a stretch and then sauntered over towards the pot with a lick of your lips, your stomach aching. You were hungry, afterall.

"Wolfbite." You addressed John as such, a silly little nickname Arthur had given him when you had both found John drunk as a fool and harassing the general store clerk inside of Rhodes. You had to drag him out of the shop by his arms, and as you recall Arthur had berated him for such actions; "God dammit Wolfbite, you go five minutes in the town and yer already tryin' to get us shot at!"

John shot you a displeased glare at the comment, but he knew ultimately it was just a fun little nickname - nothing as irritating and uncomfortable as Micah's retorts. Besides, you were one of John's closest friends within the gang, irritating eachother for the fun of it was just in both of your nature: "Y/n." He addressed you back, watching as Jack struggled aimlessly with the ladle.

You watched intently as John eventually came to his son's aid, gripping the handle against Jack's little hand, "Here, this is how you do it," He pulled the ladle down so that the bowl of the object took a big dip into the stew. Jack studied the way his father brought the ladle up some and then spilled the contents into the silver bowl; "Now you try, without my help."

Jack pursed his lips, focusing hard as he preformed a very similar action to his father, taking a dip and then pouring the liquid into his bowl, "I did it!"

"You sure did, Jack." John praised the boy with a ruffle to his brown hair, then began nudging him away, "Now go on, back to your mother before you drop your hard work all over the floor."

"Thanks, Pa." Jack had turned to reply, and although you spotted a brief flinch from the man, he relaxed rather quickly and replied with a, "You're welcome, son."

Jack soon made his way back, leaving you and John alone at the pot. You bent down to take your own bowl, draining some stew into it, "I'm proud of you, ya know."

"Why?" John took a small step back to allow you some room.

You drew back after filling your own dish, glancing up at John with a smirk, "Just you and Jack. You've really changed your way with him since Horseshoe."

John awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he too bent down to collect a bowl, "You weren't even with us at Horseshoe Overlook?"

"No," You took a spoon of soup, "but Arthur tells me a lot. Said he didn't understand why you shyed away from your own son for so long, how you and Abigail were fightin' all the time." As you blew on the hot contents within the dip of your spoon, you watched curiously as John let out a deep sigh, waving his empty bowl around as he groaned, "Of course Arthur tells you everything. What else has the old man rambled on about?"

You gave John a soft laugh and shrugged, taking a mouthful and swallowing, "Nothin' much. Just how you bellyache all the time, especially since you became a wolf's chew-toy. But between you and me? Sean had the biggest mouth," as you mentioned Sean's name, you frowned deeply.

The events over the course of the past few weeks were awfully troubling and your escape from Clemens Point had forced you all to leave Sean behind. The Greys had put a bullet through his head - he hadn't even been on the defensive from what Arthur told you.

You could see the pain in your lover's eyes as he explained the situation, how Sean had been dishonorably shot, Bill too although he had survived. How the boys almost wiped out the entire Grey family and dealt with the drunken Sheriff. The locals might have said that ridding the town of those two parasitic families was a blessing, but all blessings come with their consequences, and poor young Sean had been the unknowing sacrifice. He was your friend long before you knew of the Van Der Linde gang and Arthur. You recalled many a night of drunken laughter with Sean and your posse. He had even been the one to properly introduce you and Arthur, pushing the Cowboy to help you out when Arthur had freed you after the raid on the O'driscolls to save Sean himself. Now, Sean was gone, and even if the Irishman could be a little gutter-brained and irritating at times, you all missed him dearly.

"I do miss that kid, even if he was a little shit at times. He was an annoying little brother in a way." John was now filling his bowl though a little sluggishly as he shook his head at the reminder of Sean Macguire.

"Arthur said the same." You reply, taking another mouthful and briefly looking towards the sky as if in search of something. You then clear your throat to remind John of your previous talk before the sore subject of Sean came up, "Anyway... about Arthur."

"What about Arthur?"

You hush John with a sigh, leaning more on one foot than the other as you squint slightly to capture the man's attention, "He worries about you John. He just wants you to bond with Jack, to have what he didn't because of..." your voice trailed off, but John carried the conversation onward: "Issac and Eliza... yeah, I know." He took a small stroll over towards where a small campfire had been smouldering, setting himself down onto one of the wooden crates whilst you took your place at a fallen log.

John continued, "I've got something that he had and cherished, and that was taken away from him. I was throwin' that all away whilst he was suffering his losses. I'm a damn fool."

"I don't think you are." You chimed in quickly. You'd had a conversation of some sort similar to the one you were having with John now, remembering how Arthur understood his little brother's worries but wished he'd come and confided in him before running off for god knows how long. What you said next was almost a direct repeat of what Arthur had said to you: "I think you're misguided yes, but not a fool. Besides, you're making an effort now. That's more than enough, and Arthur seems to think so too."

John glanced up at you from his stew with a small startle, "He does?"

A soft laugh escaped your throat as you finished your meal, throwing down the bowl to rest your arms against your knees, "He's happy for ya John. All he wished for was that you and the boy got along. Seems like that wish is coming true."

John shared the smile with you, appreciating your little talk. You gave it a few seconds before prodding John with the question you had originally planned on asking him: "So, there's another thing I was gonna ask you,"

John placed his bowl below his feet in a patch of sodden boggy grass, "What's that?"

What you said next had John freeze, tighten his lips and sit up straight.

"Why were you staring at me? Wasn't hard to realise concidering I had full view of the camp from the plantation house." You leant forward slightly, a brow raising as you smirked, "Y'do realise if Arthur found out he'd have your head?"

There was a brief silence, and then John answered with a short and stubborn, "Wasn't nothing like that and you know it. You got Arthur and I got Abigail. B'sides you're my best friend who would I-"

"Easy there John you might end up losin' your voice at this rate! I'm just jokin' with ya," You shook your head, amused when John slowly forced his jaw to shut, eyes narrowed and mouth pouting as though he had been a child scolded by their mother, "I was just lost in my own head okay?" He managed to speak out bluntly.

You clearly weren't satisfied with his answer and at the right time, too. Thundering hooves alerted you to someone's return. As you and John both glanced over towards the hitching posts, you spotted Arthur skidding to a stop upon his white Arabian mount, gracefully slipping from her side to give her a gentle brush and feed before hitching her up.

You slowly twisted your gaze back round to John, a smug look crossing your face, "Great timing on Arthur's behalf. Sure you don't want me to call him over?"

"No!" John had snapped back, not out of anger, but anxious fear, and not the terrified fear but one that he usually felt when Arthur was mad with him, like a scolded child, "No- please don't. Arthur WILL have my head if I tell you."

"Tell me? Tell me what?" That statement had confused you, and clearly it hadn't meant to slip because John was now writhing awkwardly on his perch, cursing under his breath. You wanted to pry further, now completely invested in knowing what it was John was trying to hide, "Marston, are you and Arthur upto something? Come on tell me, I won't say a word. Promise."

John tried to throw his mind onto something else but to no avail. He tried averting his gaze but it was too much. His eye briefly caught Arthur, still tending to his horse. The pressure began to mount. Your eyes were staring with an intensity that almost burnt: "A robbery? Some sort of big job? Please tell me, pleassseee?!"

"Okay fine! I can't tell you everything, that would ruin it but-" He ducked a little and brought himself forward so his voice could be lowered, quickly checking on Arthur to make sure he wasn't striding over. Your confused expression only deepened as John shuffled closer and quietly spoke, "Arthur's got a surprise for you, but I can't say anything else." You guessed that, so you frowned, displeased. John then hissed a whisper, eyes wide with warning, "It would really ruin it- and don't say anything! If he finds out you even have the smallest idea he'll throw me into the swamp!"

You knew the threat of Arthur launching John into the water was one that made his body shudder. It was common knowledge within the camp that John Marston could not swim, and a common joke shared amount the many to tease him with. Even Jack took a few digs from time to time, leaving John to snap back a "Don't you start imitating your Uncle now!"

And so, you agreed, placing a hand onto John's shoulder in reassurance, "Okay, I won't say a word. Promise."

"Say a word about what?" Arthur had somehow managed to come up behind you and John without a sound, a brow raised with a dark shadow falling over his eyes from the brim of his hat. He rested his large hands upon your small shoulders, leaning down so that his mouth came to your ear, "Is Marston botherin' you darlin'?"

"Oh no not at all!" You gave Arthur a soft smile, pressing your cheek against his own, his short beard tickling the soft velvet of your skin.

John sat upright and smiled awkwardly, holding his hands upwards in a gesture, "We were just talkin'."

"Yeah I guessed that, but about what?" As Arthur spoke, the beard tickled earning a little giggle that made the Outlaw internally melt.

"About little Jack. John's been teaching him how to pour his own dinner. He's even gonna take him fishing soon." You gave John a look as if to say 'go along with it.' Whilst not entirely a lie, John had just showed Jack how to handle a ladle, the fishing part was false.

Arthur's interests had peaked at the mention of fishing. John hated the water, so this was a first, "You? And water? Fishin'? Well I never thought I'd see the day! You really are trying to bond with that kid,"

John gave Arthur a slow nod. He was anxious and he knew exactly where this was going. He couldn't escape this now...

"Looks like you an' me are goin' fishin' then, Marston! Not now, obviously. But soon. Proud of ya, brother." As Arthur gave John a gleaming smile, he cleared his throat, gently cocking his head a few times to encourage Marston away. Almost instantly he clocked on, grabing his bowl and yours too, "Well I'm off. I'll get these cleaned for you Y/n, no need to thank me. See you soon." John threw his hand to the side in a 'goodbye,' scurrying off into the crowd.

"Hey there, sweetheart." Arthur, now finally alone with you, sat to your side and gently nestled you into his side, placing his chin against the top of your head, "You okay?"

"Better now you're here," You enjoyed the warmth Arthur's broad chest brought you, inhaling the scents of tobacco and various herbs, mint being one such iconic scent. It wasn't often you and Arthur could settle against eachother without the threat of danger lurking nearby. Usually Arthur would be hurled into one of Dutch's crazy plans, hunting for the gang or out on scouting missions. You often joined him on them, but Dutch had been strict on making sure you two were in for the job rather than the time spent together. You weren't one of Miss Grimshaw's slaves luckily, Dutch and Hozier saw your great potential and wanted to put that to good use.

Now you could just relax, taking in the gentle chatter of the camp and quiet cooing of an owl overhead. Distant gurgles of Alligators could be heard some ways off. Your ear then met the gentle thudding of Arthur's heartbeat. Bliss could not come in many forms but this just had to be one of them. Usually Arthur wouldn't be so forward and open with his emotions in front of prying eyes, he tended to keep that confined to less crowded areas but tonight was different, Arthur simply didn't care for what others thought. He was still the same tough man that could load two hay stacks onto his shoulders and walk a mile without a bother as much as he was the gentle, kind and sweet man that had won you over.

Eventually Arthur pulled back from you, eyes gleaming and face a slight dash of red. You'd noticed it in the orange glow upon his face - his eyes had brightened and cheeks darkened slightly, giving away his blush. His hand found the rim of your jawline and gently nudged your head upwards to meet his gaze, "I got somethin' for yer."

"Oh?" Intrigue had your eyes widen as you sat up a little more, shoulders lax and smile cheerful. You never got used to the little gifts Arthur would bring back for you, and so you were excited to see whatever it was next. A new gun, perhaps? Maybe even a fine bit of jewellery he'd managed to pickpocket. Whatever it was, you were curious. Arthur took your hand and stood, you following suit close after. He was walking you past the plantation house towards the overgrown garden that bordered the swamp. In the near distance your eyes could pick up the glow of amber and a structure you'd never seen before. It was something like a bandstand but smaller, a wooden gazebo, creeping vines completely overtaking it's structure with little white flowers growing from each stem. From what you could gather at a glance, the shrubbery had been cut back extensively and the vines looping the wood prunes and trimmed to give it a much neater appearance. The murk had been swept away and cleaned to the best of it's ability.

You were now inches away from the structure. Awe overtook you as Arthur gently ushered you onto the steps, your eyes meeting a number of half melted candles, their flames dancing in the soft breeze. Little purple flowers were scattered across it's interior - the same flowers from Big Valley, yours and Arthur's favourite spot. There were also yarrow petals from what could have been Clemens Point, and tiny yellow orchids from up in West Elizabeth. Slowly, you began to make a connection: these flowers were from key areas you had been in during yours and Arthur's time together. The yellow orchids reminded you of the day Arthur had freed you from the O'driscolls, the yarrow a flower you had used to heal Arthur's injuries from his own kidnapp and the purple flowers in Big Valley, the place where you had both realised your feelings.

"It's beautiful Arthur..." those words escaped your gaping mouth, Arthur watching you with a wide smile as you examined the decor with sparkling eyes; "I'm glad you think so, darlin'."

"You didn't have to go through all of this effort for me... it must've taken you days to get to all of these flowers." Curiosity began to ebb once more. Your gifts had often been small and sweet, picked up by chance on the cowboys adventures across the states. Only this time... these flowers hadn't been picked by chance.

Arthur simply replied with a small nod, "It did. Three days, in fact. That's why me and John were gone three days but uh- don't tell Dutch." He cleared his throat and lowered his tone, smirking, "He jus' thinks we went out on some robbin's across the states."

"Got ya, I won't say a word." You gave Arthur a small gesture that imitated locking your mouth and throwing the key before you returned to studying the flowers and candles, "You really outdid yourself this time. How am I going to get you a better gift now?"

"There ain't no need darlin' this ain't a competition." Arthur chuckled sweetly as drew his fingers through your soft hair, gently removing some of the debris that had accumulated where you could not see - bits of grass and sticks from what he could only assume was haybales for the horses. You'd been busy.

"Still doesn't seem fair to not get you anything in return though..." You whimpered quietly. Arthur brought his hands to your face, his right hand palming your soft cheek whilst brushing his thumb across the velvety skin whilst his left thumb gently trailed across your bottom lip. Your eyes met his brilliant pools of ocean, dilating as you gave his thumb a gentle kiss. Your eyes then danced around the gazebo, attempting to take in every fine little detail. It certainly must have taken days to get this place into shape, for again you'd never noticed it before. You wondered how Arthur had found it, let alone cleared it without you noticing. You were now completely turned from Arthur who had stepped back to give you some room, your back facing him as you studied the interior some more, "Honestly Arthur how on earth did you manage to fix this thing up without me realisin' you was upto something?" The Outlaw remained silent, a little out of character to not respond to you with something sweet or sarcastic, "Oh, I get it. I ain't allowed to know. It's a secret then?"

By the time you'd finished speaking, the wooden floorboards of the gazebo creaked, and you felt a sudden change in pressure. It as if by instinct that your body decided to turn in a slow fashion. Arthur was no longer stood, but crouched. He was bent down. On one knee. His eyes wide and full of anxiety as he pulled a hand out to hold just underneath you.

"Y/n." He began, a slight stutter forming as he spoke, "The day I met you was the day I felt my world change. Ain't nobody else that has ever made me feel this way."

Your eyes were wide, bright. You stood there, your head cocked downwards meeting Arthur's gaze. From the corner of your eye you could see a brief movement within the treeline and recognised the frilly dress of Mary-Beth and the hat of Sadie. Had the gang been watching you and Arthur all this time?

"We've been on our fair share of dangerous missions, had a lot of close calls... so I guess what I'm tryin' to say is-" Arthur's throat convulsed as he took in a deep breath, taking your hand in a vice-like grip. You could feel the heat radiating from them despite being gloved - an obvious sign that his palms were sodden with anxious sweat.

"Will you take my hand in marriage?"

The world became silent, still. It was as though time itself had stopped, because you swore you couldn't feel your heartbeat anymore. Even the gentle noises the Bayou made were all but noisy. It was dead quiet.

You felt an excitement build in your stomach and a deep blush fill your cheeks. Your eyes were in a state of shock, glittering in the moonlight overhead and the flickering of candle fire below. Arthur Morgan was asking for your hand. You! You'd never even imagined a man as handsome and kind-hearted as Mr Morgan would want you in such a way, and now you were on the precipice of becoming Y/n Morgan. You wanted this so bad, but the anticipation of your longer than comfortable silence had Arthur squirming, his grip on your hand loosening. Before he could pull away in shameful defeat however, you tightened your own hand and yanked the Outlaw up, letting out an excited "Yes!"

A perfectly wide smile overpowered Arthur's emotions as he beamed happily at your response, taking you into his arms and spun with you, the most brightest and extatic laugh erupting from his chest as he brought you back down into a loving embrace.

An eruption of cheering and applause had the both of you startle before Arthur could shower you with tender kisses. He let out an irritated "Christ sake!", his eyes narrowing at the crowd. Once he recovered from the startle Arthur brought you into a tight embrace once more sighing softly against your hair, "Of course Hozier told the entire gang..."

Your eye caught Hozier skipping down from the Plantation house like a youthful young man once more, his face glowing with pride and happiness as he began to stride a little quicker over to you both with open arms, "Congratulations my boy! Oh look at you both!"

"Hozier," Arthur tipped his hat, one arm coiled around your waist, "Thank you for uh... helping me set this all up."

Hozier had been Arthur's fatherly figure alongside Dutch since adopting him into the gang all those years ago. Unlike Van Der Linde, Hozier had more of a nurturing approach, teaching Arthur how to read and write and hunt. Many of the things Arthur could do was all taught by Hozier, even horse riding, whilst Dutch was more or less the one to teach Arthur the ways of the Gunslinger, how to pickpocket and rob and strengthen himself up. With Hozier, there could have been no better man to help him organise this. That's how you hadn't noticed the Gazebo preparation. If Hozier wasn't distracting you with stories and tales, Arthur was at your side.

"Oh my pleasure Arthur, I did the same with Bessie. Only it wasn't in a swamp... or under a rotten gazebo- but you get the point." Hozier flailed his hands in the air before placing them upon Arthur's shoulder, "I am so proud of you. Both of you."

Hozier hadn't only taught Arthur. When the man had taken his hiatus with the gang alongside Bessie, they had found themselves within these here states, mainly New Hanover and Ambarino. He had actually stumbled upon you and your twin brother, Archer, along with a few members of your posse. You must've only been about seventeen at the time, maybe a little older, but you could hardly read or lift a bow. You had been the daughter of a rancher family, made an orphan when the O'driscolls had burnt down your home and everything you knew over an 'unpaid debt.' Even Hozier had been rather surprised and concerned that they had made it this far East, but alas, it had only been a small portion of the gang and the O'driscolls were plentiful. Colm had still been back where Van Der Linde's gang settled, butting heads with Dutch in a rivalry that felt as old as time itself.

You had spent many months alongside Bessie and Hozier. He had taught you how to hunt and fight as well as handle yourself with a gun and Bessie taught you how to cook - properly. It wasn't until Bessie had become gravely sick that Hozier left you and your posse. He had originally planned to take her to a doctor and return, but a man whose heart had truly belonged with his gang? You understood. Hozier had returned to Dutch and it wasn't until spotting him in the streets of Valentine that you reunited.

"Thank you Hozier, truly." With your face pressed against Arthur's chest, you sighed deeply, a smile overtaking your features. Arthur somehow managed to bring you closer, "So where's Dutch?"

"Upstairs I'd presume. He knew this was going to happen, but you know what he's like when he's in a mood." Clearly that was a dig. Hozier narrowed his eyes towards the plantation house, a scowl forming. He and Dutch had been neck a neck recently, you even recalled Hozier accusing Dutch of being way over his head, cocky and arrogant. You had to agree, Dutch had been running loops around you all recently, getting you into more trouble than it was worth. He'd even ignored Hozier's warnings of Colm's fake parley which had ultimately gotten Arthur into a life threatening situation those few months back at Clemens Point.

Arthur frowned. He had expected Dutch to at least make an appearance and congratulate you both, but he hadn't. Clearly it had gotten under his skin, so you brought Arthur's hand up, removing a glove to plant a gentle kiss against the back of his hand, "I'm sure he'll come down eventually. If not, talk to him tomorrow."

Hozier bowed his head in agreement, "Yes, let him have his moment. Besides, we've got a wedding to plan and little time to do it!" With that, Hozier scurried away, his face bright with excitement. You turned your attention to Arthur who glanced back down at you, a soft smile forming, "I'm sorry I couldn't get you an engagement ring. Figured if we're always on the brink of death then why not get wed in say... a couple of days?"

While many woman would startle at the sound of a wedding so soon, you understood the risks of an Outlaw's life. You had lived it for many years afterall, and you wanted nothing more than to take Arthur's name and call him your husband. Besides, the camp's spirits were already at it's peak with Jack's return. The Pinkertons wouldn't find you for the next few weeks, at least. There was no better time, and so, you agreed with a nod, looping your fingers around your soon-to-be husbands, "I'd want nothing more."

A couple of days had passed since Arthur's proposal. Whoever had remained awake that night congratulated you with excitement and chatter, and the next morning wasn't any different. The girls were all around you within an instant, prodding and poking you with ideas and questions alike; what dress did you want? What food? Did you want any decorations? To each of those you politely declined, knowing the gang's funds were needed for food, medicine and ammunition. Nevertheless, they all still were successful in making some arrangements.

Arthur on the otherhand found himself in conversation with Javier, Charles, Lenny and John that following morning. Bill had no desire to talk about love, but despite that, he was happy to be given an excuse to drink on the eventual day of the wedding, and Arthur knew deep down Bill was happy for him. Dutch hadn't been seen since the proposal, off gallivanting around Saint Denis with who Arthur assumed would be Micah. Hozier was more than displeased with that man's behaviour as of late, especially not showing for a majority of their adopted sons proposal and planning. Kieran in Dutch's absence had offered to make trips around the city to gather goods to which Arthur gratefully agreed, it would be the first time Kieran could leave the camp grounds without Dutch tethering him down with an iron fist. You could tell by the twinkle in Kieran's eye that he was most excited to be able to actually escape the confines of the gang.

Midday soon rolled around. Arthur was at your side, messing with your velvety hair as you both took refuge in your shared room from prying eyes and endless questions, "It ain't gonna be a big fancy weddin', gonna have to have it here cause of the Pinkertons. We ain't got the money for anything much either-"

"Arthur." You paused him in his tracks, smiling up at him innocently, "I don't care about all of that. All I care about is being able to call you my husband. Nothing more, nothing less."

The idea of calling Arthur your husband tickled you. Two of the West's greatest Gunslingers unified in marriage - a danger to truly behold. Nevertheless, you were overjoyed to take Arthur's last name. Y/n Morgan. It had a nice ring to it.

"So, who's gonna be your best man?" You quizzed Arthur curiously, slowly laying downward to rest your head against the Cowboy's lap to which he began carding his fingers through your hair.

Arthur paused for a second, humming to himself. There was a slight nervous energy and you could see his jaw muscles working themselves, "Guess I'm stuck between John and Lenny..."

"Oh?"

"Lenny's a brilliant man and a great friend. The youngen' definitely has life to him, got me out of a few binds now. Dare I say he's probably one of the members I'm closest to- aside John." Arthur dug fingers into his stubble and scratched, indicating that he was deep in thought. It was one of the many small things he did that you took notice of with a sweet smile.

"Marston and me? We're practically brothers. I've known him fifteen years. Sure, he ran from us for a time but he's proven his loyalty. Ah- I don't know..."

"Well," you squinted slightly to get a rough idea of what you were going with, "Why don't you make one of them the ring bearer and the other your best man?"

Arthur's brow rose slightly, jaw parting in a little gasp of triumph before he turned his gaze to you with a wide grin, "You little genius!"

"Eh what can I say? I'm good with organisin'." Your shrug was half arsed with a smug smile plastered across your face. Quickly you were hoisted from Arthur's legs and your head embraced by his giant hands only for him to bring you upward, planting a heavy kiss against the tip of your nose. Arthur was obviously excited, it had you fluster and giggle sheepishly. After all this time with you swooning over eachother Arthur still found ways to make you shy and giddy.

"Well then Cowboy, if the weddin' is tomorrow you'd best get your arse off the bed and go organise your new ring bearer and best man!" Your eyes shifted to the sky outside, noting that midday had well and truly passed. There was still a lot to do and time was seeping through the cracks faster than you liked. Arthur took note of your suggestion with a low hum in agreement and a nod, gently shifting you aside. He scooted towards the door, paused, galloped back to place a soft kiss against your lips and was off once more, only this time he'd actually left. You could've sworn you heard a hushed giggle of excitement echoing down the hallway as he scampered down the stairs of the plantation house.

Rolling your eyes with amusement you hoisted yourself up and shifted yourself towards the outside balcony just ahead of you. You had already ran your plans by Miss Grimshaw and the girls, so you didn't need to go and make any last minute changes or decisions. You'd been up most nights to arrange that, so fatigue gripped you like the talons of an Eagle. You'd rather spend the rest of the day resting up for tomorrow.

Leaning your arms heavily against the banister of the balcony, a fresh cigarette finding your lips, you scanned the clearing below. You spotted Arthur over towards Pearson's stew pot exchanging happy conversation with Marston and Lenny. Grimshaw was pacing the entire camp with a keen eye, making sure the girls were hard at work on whatever it was they were tasked with; sewing clothes, fixing up the camp and discarding debris - you name it.

Javier, Bill and Swanson were exchanging sharp glares, their hands gripping firmly onto cards that they had tucked against their chest around an old wooden table. Whatever sort of card game they were playing - it was serious. You caught a glimpse of Kieran running his hand slowly through the mane of his own mount and surprisingly exchanging words with Sadie, the both of them smiling and giggling with eachother. Who'd have thought... Mrs Adler making amends with an ex-O'driscoll? Kieran was a fine soul, an anxious mess and hardly an O'driscoll at all. The poor kid couldn't even lift a gun without chewing five layers of skin from his lips. Nevertheless, you were happy the two were exchanging words without Sadie threatening to remove his jugular.

You struck the matchstick, carefully lit your fag and took a long drag, allowing the smoke to escape through your nostrils as you took a deep sigh outwards.

"Hey." The voice behind you had you almost drop your freshly lit cigarette from your lips, though the paper had luckily stuck to the bottom of your lip, flopping around before you nestled it back into the left hand corner of your mouth. Spinning, you came to face the man who had almost ruined your moment of tranquility: John Marston. He had left Arthur and Lenny's side some time ago whilst you studied the rest of the camp, and now Arthur was sat beside Hozier under the canopy of one of the tents, his arms flinging to and fro in some mad explanation of god knows what.

You turned your attention back to John, patting the wooden rail beside you, inviting him to take a spot beside you, "almost made me drop my cigarette," You gave John a narrowed glare, watching as his expression went from relaxed to anxious within a matter of seconds as he met your gaze, "Oh- sorry y/n I didn't mean to scare ya-"

"Oh shut up ya big wuss I'm only jokin'!" You gave Marston a gentle shove against the shoulder, earning an amused smirk from one of your best friends within the camp. Aside from Arthur, John had always been there for you. He saw the chemistry between the both of you before anyone else, noticed the way you both gazed at eachother and even teased Arthur a great deal around camp before you'd even been invited into the gang. You couldn't even count the amount of times John had saved your arse on missions, and whenever a robbery had came up, it was always you, John and Arthur to take the call of the wild. You as a trio were truly a force to be reckoned with.

"Thanks for not gettin' me in shit today. I'm really happy for you both y'know," John had whipped out a cigarette of his own, now giving you a hearty shove whilst tweaking his eyebrows, "Jokes on you, I've got premium cigarettes! Not those flimsy shit sticks you got hanging out that gobby mouth of yours, half-eye."

"Uhm!" Letting out a playful snigger you crossed your arms and removed the now stumpy butt from your mouth, pinging it from the balcony with an agile flick of your fingers, "I'll have you know I still have both my eyes, Marston." You made emphasise on 'Marston', earning a soft chuckle in response as he rest his arms against the beam of the balcony, eyes tracing the camp to find Arthur now red faced and scoffing at a very pleased looking Hozier whome fiddled with Arthur's ring finger, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth in concentration. Your eyes too caught the scene, smiling softly at the sight before you, "Hey, does this mean I get to call you brother now too?"

John tipped his head, his bottom lip pronounced a little more in thought as he spat his own cigarette butt from his mouth and turned to face you, "Y'know what, I think it does."

"Well then, I'm gaining a pretty cool brother tomorrow too," You shot John a little smile, watching with a smirk of amusement as John blinked, stood and began to imitate himself throwing up. He then snorted a laugh, opening his arms and beckoned you in for a friendly embrace, "All things considered though Y/n, that man down there?" His thumb pointed down towards a now very chipper Arthur listening to Hozier's rambling. You gazed down with a soft smile and returned your attention to John, taking a step back with hands against hips leaning heavily to one side as John continued, "He loves you. Loves you one hell of a lot... don't think I've ever seen him this happy before."

"Well it's a good thing I love him one hell of a lot too then ain't it?" A buzzing sensation passed through your spine as you sagged yourself halfway over the banister, sighing happily as you watched Arthur and Hozier, a rosy blush filling your cheeks.

John slowly nodded, "Yeah, it is good. Everythin's good... well, Arthur made me his best man and Lenny the ring bearer so I guess I'll be off. Got plannin' to do."

As John went to leave, you turned your attention to him, calling for him to stop before he disappeared. John peered round the corner of the balcony doors at you, a questioning gaze.

You simply smiled, a genuine smile of happiness and thanks as you softly sighed, "Thanks for keepin' me company. You know you mean a lot to us both, right?"

John huffed a sigh, a wide smile in response, "Yeah, I know. You know where to find me if you two need a helpin' hand." And then he slipped away, presumably in search of his own little family.

Taking in a deep breath whilst steadying yourself on the rails with your hands, taking in the rather relaxed atmosphere, you dipped your head in comfort, a gentle smile dawning your features. All was well, all was pleasant... the sound of chittering Sparrows and the low rumble of Alligators brought a rather fair harmony to the Bayou, you'd all by now gotten acquainted with the smell of rotten bog water, and for what it was worth, everything felt perfecrly balanced for once in such a long time.

Arthur turned his attention up towards you, watching on as the golden rays of sunlight glowed against your soft features, awestruck and beaming a lovestruck smile as the wind caught your hair ever so gently.

Nothing could encompass this feeling - such a rarity that you longed to last forever.

Pure bliss.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2

[self-made-cages]

Small joys:

1. Stayed after tennis to play extra with one of the girls

2. Was spontaneously free at work at the same time as one of my friends and got to hang for a minute

3. Got my favorite booth on the open terrace workspace

4. Blasting TTPD out of car speakers

5. Super tasty oatmeal as after work snack

#morgan shares small joys

[winterandwords]

📝 Contextual use of physical description and how it informs a character's identity

THIS IS NOT WRITING ADVICE! At its core, I guess it's about showing-not-telling, but I'm not into issuing instructions. There are no rules here.

It's an approach I take in my own writing that I've thought a lot about, refined over years, and am sharing because it might be useful or relevant to other people. I am in no way saying this is the only way or the best way or the way that will suit your story or your characters. It's the way that suits my stories and my characters. OK? OK.

I use physical descriptions very sparingly and rarely outright state someone's height, build, hair colour, or eye colour. When those traits are mentioned, it's usually from another character's perspective - what would they notice and why? I tend to refer to physical traits only when they inform a character's personality and experience in relation to the story.

This is partly because I love the idea of readers imagining my characters how they see them. Do I have a clear image in my head of every character I write? Yes. Do you have to have the same image in your head? No. It's also just a matter of preference. I don't particularly connect with straight-up physical descriptions of characters in stories. They're not bad or wrong. They're just not really something that clicks in my head as significant when presented as a list of details.

Example: Noah from November Breaks and Spin Cylinder

So what does he look like?

Noah is in his mid-forties at the beginning of November Breaks and getting closer to fifty in Spin Cylinder. He's 6ft 4 with a muscular build and broad shoulders. He has greying dark hair that's short in the flashback parts of November Breaks and longer in the later parts. He grows a beard before the present-day section of November Breaks. His eyes are dark blue. He's conventionally very attractive. Does he look like a big, built Jeffrey Dean Morgan in my head? Yes. Does he have to look like that in anyone else's head? No.

(Did I choose his height because that's my spouse's height and it's really handy to have a living human reference for height, build and physical strength so I can ask someone things like "Could you lift that?" etc? Also yes. Welcome to why that specific height and build shows up in my MCs more than once)

At no point do I outright state any of those descriptive traits (apart from his eye colour, but we'll get there in a minute). So how do I show them?

People get out of Noah's way in the street. He's accustomed to it but feels not-so-great about it sometimes, suggesting that it relates to a consistent aspect of his appearance.

He feels uncomfortable in small spaces, for example, not feeling like he fits right at tables in cafes (borrowed from my spouse's experiences and something I would never have thought about on my own because I'm 5ft 2)

He can physically overpower other adult men easily and doesn't feel intimidated or threatened by objectively threatening people or situations, even when there are weapons involved.

He can move corpses around without much effort.

Brett's first impression of him is He could really hurt me (desirable) with the observation that he looks like "someone who could throw a heavy punch" and has "shoulders that could hold up the world" and "arms that could crush the breath from my lungs and stop my mind from racing" (Brett is a very poetic masochist)

Brett also mentions "Silver like the strands interrupting the dark of your hair" when he's remembering a grounding exercise that involves counting things of a chosen colour.

Perry flirts shamelessly with him, refers to "Those big blue eyes" and asks if he used to model with "You look like an advert for everything you’re wearing" (Perry is a delightful twinky surfer who is one of the lighter elements of the books and a joy to write)

Noah is neither surprised nor flattered that someone assumes he might have been a model when he was younger, showing that he's accustomed to moving through the world as A Handsome Man rather than being perceived that way by one person who happens to find him attractive.

Growing his hair and beard is part of an attempt to distance himself from Clichéd Contract Killer Aesthetic. These traits are first referenced by Max, who has known him for years, as recent changes at the beginning of November Breaks, and Noah talks about them as aspects of his appearance that he struggles to reach decisions about or make peace with.

His mid-life crisis is also referenced at the very beginning of November Breaks, giving a suggestion of his age.

He goes to the gym. It's about routine and control, not about looking a certain way, but it still indicates what his physical build is likely to be especially when combined with Brett's descriptions of him.

Another layer of connection between his appearance and personality is that he never once describes himself as being good-looking, fit, strong etc or shows that he values those traits. Why does this matter?

Trope subversion, my beloved! Noah could easily be perceived as an aggressively no-homo big macho meathead tough guy based on his appearance and his job, but he isn't. At all. He is, in fact, 100% pro-homo, charming and polite, and has extremely refined tastes, valuing luxury not for status but for quality.

His observations of other people rarely relate to specific physical traits. Rather, he compulsively notices how people behave and how they connect with their environment and the people in it. How everyone else looks is mostly irrelevant to him. How he looks is mostly irrelevant to him too.

This isn't as much to demonstrate depth (this isn't a "not like other men" situation, I promise) as it is to show the privilege inherent in not having to care about his own looks because he's always been perceived as attractive. This exists in contrast to Brett, who is fully aware of the power of his appearance and knowingly uses it to his advantage at every available opportunity.

If you want to see any of this in action, November Breaks lives on Tumblr at @novemberbreaksbywintersimpson. Spin Cylinder's WIP info is here (correct as of August 2023) and snippets can be found in my #spin cylinder tag.

That's it for now!

I have lots of topics like this that I could happily ramble about if anyone's interested. I really don't want to come across like I'm telling other people how to write or suggesting that I know better than anyone else - I'm not and I don't. I'm just an obsessive weirdo who thinks a lot about everything.

Let me know if you'd be interested in similar posts in future about other aspects of how I build characters and stories 💜

#the shit in my head #writeblr #writing process #character creation #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #writing community #november breaks #spin cylinder

[judgementdaysunshine]

Hi babes!!! I have another Liv request for you. You have free reign to go crazy.

Yaaa

Pocket of sunshine

Pairing: Liv Morgan x Fem reader

Description: You find out how much joy you bring to liv's life

You smile sharing a hug with your best friend Rhea and it only grows seeing your girlfriend taking a sip of a drink down the hall. You giggle walking to her and as she pulls you in her arms flipping off rhea when you see her record the two of you holding each other, you stand ringside and cheer watching them in their tag team match that night against Bayley and Sasha Banks feeling joy at the two winning jumping joyfully as you follow the duo backstage after shaking hands with sasha and bayley, you giggle when you jump in the duo's arms making them smile sweetly before the three of you celebrate with drinks and dinner, you and liv walk hand in hand backstage to her and rhea's locker room enjoying the alone time while waiting for rhea so you could train for your upcoming matches. You turn your head seeing her smile big and giggle sweetly at the small dance you did while eating a little bubblegum since it was one of your few cheat days and you would burn it off in a few hours with the girls, "What?' she shakes her head leaving you slightly confused as rhea arrives and after some talking the three of you head to the gym and train occasionally noticing the smiles and stares from liv until that next night on raw where rhea talks to you while liv gets ready in the other room for her match against Charlotte Flair "You make her feel happy" you feel a bit confused at the statement knowing how much she cared about you since the two of you had been together for eight months now "I know she cares about me and that but what are you meaning exactly?" she chuckles before grabbing a bite of her leftovers as she stands up from the chair across from you "She's so in love with you that you make her happy in a really big way she has never felt before or even known existed" you stare in disbelief as she walks out of the room. Liv walks out a little bit later walking to the ramp together sharing one last hug and quick kiss before she walks down to the ring watching her match backstage looking around before you squeal in pure joy lightly jumping up and down sitting down and cheering for liv running out of the room after she won lifting her in your arms and kissing her before she could even say anything or react leaving her stunned and blushing bright red and rhea laughing next to the two of you "You told her didn't you?" liv punches rhea in her arm jokingly before wrapping her arms around you "Your my pocket of sunshine baby" you smile sweetly as the the three of you celebrate yet another win and feeling on cloud nine of knowing just how much you really meant to the woman you are in love with.

#liv morgan x reader #wwe #wwe x reader #liv morgan

[south-of-heaven]

Liv Morgan x Fem!Reader at christmas time?

Christmas extravaganza || Liv Morgan x Reader

Summary: Liv always goes all out for Christmas.

Christmas in the Morgan household was an extravaganza of lights, tinsel, and holiday cheer. Liv, with her infectious enthusiasm, turned the entire place into a festive wonderland every December. This year, however, there was an added layer of excitement because she had you to share the holiday magic with.

The first sign of Liv's Christmas spirit was the moment you stepped into the house. Twinkling lights adorned every conceivable surface, and the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air. Liv, wearing a Santa hat, practically bounced towards you.

"Welcome to Christmas central!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy.

She led you through the holiday haven she had created. The tree, standing tall and adorned with an eclectic mix of ornaments, dominated the living room. A cozy fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a warm glow across the room.

Liv had organized a Christmas movie marathon for the evening. Blankets and pillows were strategically placed on the couch, and a table held an array of snacks. As you settled in, she handed you a mug of hot cocoa topped with marshmallows.

"This is my favorite part," she confessed, her eyes fixed on the screen where a classic Christmas movie was about to start.

The evening unfolded in a symphony of laughter, warmth, and shared glances. Liv couldn't contain her excitement as she handed you a small, expertly wrapped present. "Open it, open it!" she urged.

Inside, you found a personalized ornament. Liv's eyes gleamed as you admired it. "I thought it'd be a nice addition to our tree. Something to remember this Christmas by."

As the night wore on, Liv convinced you to join her in a spirited round of Christmas karaoke. It didn't matter that neither of you were particularly musically gifted; the joyous atmosphere drowned out any off-key notes.

When it was time for bed, Liv led you to a room filled with even more Christmas decorations. The bed was adorned with festive sheets, and mistletoe hung from the ceiling.

"Christmas isn't just a day; it's a whole season," Liv whispered, her arms wrapping around you. "And I'm so glad I get to share it with you."

The magic of Liv's Christmas extravaganza lingered in the air, creating memories that would be cherished long after the holiday season had passed.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #liv morgan x reader #liv morgan #gionna daddio

[themetabridge]

I've always had a deep respect for those who find solace and a path toward compassion in their faith. In contrast, some use their faith as a bludgeon. A justification to isolate. To judge. To dominate and control.

I think most fundamentalists fall into this latter camp.

For those who don't know Paul and Morgan are Christian influencers. Morgan, at one point tried to a have a career in music. She struggled with depression and anxiety and claims she found Christ and serenity through her husband Paul. They now openly reject mainstream entertainment and the licentious ways of Hollywood and the music industry; maybe, as Harvey Weinstein and the string of sex scandals have shown us, not without some merit. Although personally, I do not believe that the cure for excess is deprivation.

In this video they address and have a dialog with more fundamentalists Christians about a very important topic:

IS TAYLOR SWIFT A WITCH?

Like a lot of their content, this premise is laughable.

Or would be if it hadn't taken hold so deeply among a small, powerful and increasingly aggressive minority of fundamentalist believers. Ignorance can be a weapon.

Paul and Morgan come down on the more progressive side of fundamentalistism "Taylor Swift is filled with evil, but not a witch that's ridiculous. And you can curse sometimes". The opposing view is much more hard line.

What struck me about this video is how much it reminded me, not of my own days at church but of similar debates I've had around the Dungeons and Dragons table. Arguing about the intentions and mental state of mindflayers, dragons or other mystical creatures of lore. Why? Because both are fundamentally exercises in imagination.

If the relationship these people have with God was genuine, or if the God they all claim to believe in was real wouldn't this debate be unnecessary? Wouldn't it be impossible? If the divine experience was truly a universal one, there would not be such a subjective fracturing of its experience. The divine and omnipotent would be felt universally, like fear or love or the taste of mint peppermint patties.

Instead it is divided into religions, which are divided into sects, which are divided into sub sects which are divided into petty informal fractional conflict like what we see here.

People can like or dislike the taste of mint peppermint patties. But all of us, when we taste one can identify it from some other flavor. In contrast the abstractions and stories we tell ourselves are infinitely fungible, perfectly subjective and completely at the mercy of our hidden psychology.

What I see when I watch these discussions between opposing camps of fundamentalism is not an uncovering of some obscured objective truth, but a conflict during a session of shared story telling. The same way I and my dorky friends might have a disagreement about whether a mindflayer should be susceptible to a charisma check, here is a group of people arguing about the rules of a game they all play in their heads.

This is not an inherently bad thing. The activity is social. It builds cohesion. It is necessary even. The conflict can sometimes be a happy one, filled with levity and the joy of that comes from elaborating on a shared frame of reference. Flirting is this kind of game. So is friendship. It's good for the soul.

The problem arises from the coercion. They are calling this woman a witch. This is a silly thing that can become dangerous quickly. A handsome YouTube couple discussing if someone is or isn't evil and or a witch doesn't pose a direct threat to anyone. But what if this shared story becomes widely accepted? Taken as truth and played for more than a joke? What if it is given some kind of actionable power?

We have the answer. It ends in the murder of women, the wretched and the socially isolated. We've seen it play out in cultural and historical context after cultural and historical context.

And there is nothing funny about a silly story told as the truth when someone's life is on the line.

#ex fundamentalist #athiesm #faith #christianity #fundie snark #ex fundie #ex orthodox #long reads #short reads #witch #taylor swift #taylornation

[tblsomedoodles]

Plz tell me about George. I don't think we ever had an explanation for George

I have talked about him before, but it's been a while and i'm always down to talk about George! : ) He's had a few different versions (and his own au that i did nothing with. It is one of the early stops in Donnieverse though, so there's that.) but the i settled on now is done in such a way that

But George is my IRL turtle if he got mutated in Rise. IRL George is an Eastern Painted Turtle that my family has had for...21 years i believe. (i was little when we got him so i'm not entirely sure the age.)

(i know i've shared this photo before, but he's hard to photograph and this is the best one i've ever gotten.)

Character George is a 21 year old (or he is post krang) Mutated Eastern Painted Turtle that Draxum accidentally mutated six years before the cannon boys were created. He works in the Hidden City as a mechanic (and general handy-turtle when no one has a car for him to fix.)

He's Morgan's neighbor and tends to keep an eye out for them since Morgan doesn't exactly have anyone else. I think Morgan might have a summer job running customer service at his shop since communicating with clients is often hard for him since the only speach he's capable of is turtle noises like chirps and hisses. (he knows sign language but doesn't use it much since his version is altered and there's not a lot of clients that can understand it. If he has to communicate himself, he usually just writes it down quickly in a small pocket notebook.)

He is very protective of those he sees as family or friends, though he doesn't really have many. (morgan is counted as one of those. the cannon boys would be too if he ever gets the chance to meet them.)

He also loves cars. just absolutely adores them. He loves working on and fixing them up. As a result, he's almost always covered in oil or grease of some sort.

I wrote up a bit more on his backstory too, but it's long so i'm putting it under a break for those that want to keep reading.

Draxum had acquired a baby painted turtle from a human to study to figure out if turtles would be a good mutation base. He left bitty, unmutated George alone on a table that had like a petri dish of unfinished mutagen, and George got into it before Draxum could turn back around.

Because the mutagen was incomplete, his mutation isn't the same as the boys, and is a little more turtle like than they are. The main obvious differences being that he, like unmutated turtles, has no voicebox, and he has a tail.

Draxum never quite realized he had human-like intelegence. He knew he was smarter than an average turtle but baby George was pretty scared of him and, as a result, never did anything around Draxum that could have clued him in on how smart his accidental creation was. (i don't think baby george intentionally hid his intelegence, he was just too scared to act on what he understood if Drax was around.) Draxum did spend time trying to fix the missing voicebox 'issue' but was never able to. It left some surgical scars around his neck that present day George keeps covered.

He escaped Draxum's lab the day Lou blew it up (In his specific au, he escaped with baby Raph and baby Donnie, but otherwise he escapes alone) and ends up loose in the hidden city.

After a bit an old Mechanic yokai finds and helps him, eventually taking him in and teaching him how to fix cars. I think the yokai gifted him the garage/shop of his, either when he retired and went to live in hidden city Florida, or died of old age. Either way he ends up with the garage/shop that is his pride and joy. He loves that shop.

Anyways, that's about it! That's my George! He can now be found floating around the Hidden City in all my aus b/c I can put him there! Idk if he ever meets the cannon boys in any of them (maybe Seer Twins b/c of Donnie Friend-adopting Morgan) but he's there. : )

Thank you!

#asks #tmnt #rottmnt #my turtle george

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Demigod From Asgard - Steve Rogers x Reader (Part 78)

Summary: Steve find a project to keep himself occupied

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Angst! Language! Fluff!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 78: Finding Scout

1 year since the snap

The last couple of weeks had been difficult for Steve. First, it had been JJ’s second birthday. A day that should have been full of joy, and Steve tried his hardest to make the day perfect for him. But he just felt sad and guilty that you weren’t there to celebrate it.

Steve had also been dreading today. The one-year Anniversary of the snap. Around the world, memorials were taking place to remember the fallen. Large bronze plaques being revealed around the world, the names of the fallen etched into the metal.

The atmosphere was sombre as Steve got himself and JJ ready for the day. Steve wearing his black funeral suit, JJ wearing a black polo shirt and trousers.

The compound was busy for the first time in years. All of the allies of the Avengers that remained all gathering to honour their fallen comrades. Once everyone had arrived Steve picked JJ up and made his way out.

“Mama!” JJ shouts as Steve lifted him up, pointing over to his teddy in the crib.

“Hm?” Steve hummed glancing over to where JJ was pointing “oh, yeah of course" he sighs walking over and picking up his teddy and passing it to JJ, who smiles brightly hugging the teddy tightly.

Steve headed outside to meet up with everyone. He takes a deep breath as he looks around at everyone who turned up. In one sense he was surprised by the vast number of people there, but he also knew that there should be more.

“Hey, Steve you alright?” A tired-looking Tony says slapping Steve on the shoulder.

“No, but that’s to be expected” Steve shrugs honestly “how are you? Morgan keeping you up?” Steve asks nodding over to Pepper who held the 3-month-old Morgan.

“Is it that obvious?” Tony chuckles weakly.

“Colic?” Steve asks knowingly.

“Yup, it is a son of a- gun?” Tony says censoring himself when JJ giggles in Steve’s arms.

“It gets easier I promise” Steve reassures him chuckling gently.

“How about you? The terrible two’s starting yet?” Tony asks tickling JJ’s stomach.

“a bit, but I’m sure it won’t be long, he’s already becoming a bit more stubborn,” Steve says making Tony laugh.

“Well considering who his parents are I’m not surprised” Tony smirks giving Steve a knowing look.

“Hey, they’re ready now,” Pepper says walking over to the two of them.

Steve and Tony share a look, nodding as Steve took a deep breath preparing himself. The three of them slowly walk over to the memorial.

Throughout the service, Steve remained silent. His sights set firmly on the patch of grass in front of him. Unable to bring himself to look at the memorial not wanting to see your name etched so permanently into the metal.

He hadn’t even realised that the service had ended until someone put their hand on his arm. He turned to see Okoye standing there with a sympathetic smile on her face.

“He’s gotten so big Captain Rogers,” she says nodding to JJ.

“Yeah, heavy too” Steve chuckles weakly as he readjusted JJ in his arms “and call me Steve please”

A small smile appears on her lips as she nods “of course, I won’t keep you long, I just wanted to give you this” she says passing him an envelope.

Steve frowns as he looks down at the envelope “what is it?” He asks.

“A favour fulfilled by T’Challa, it got a little lost in the chaos but we’ve secured it for you” Okoye explains making Steve even more confused.

He tried to work out what it could be, he’d asked T’Challa for so many favours he was struggling to single out just one.

He quickly opens up the envelope, his lips parting in surprise when he reads its contents. He nods swallowing the lump in his throat bringing his emotions back under control.

“Thank you Okoye,” Steve says clearing his throat.

“It’s our pleasure Steve, the kingdom of Wakanda wishes you well” Okoye nods before turning and walking away.

Steve nods looking down at the sheet of paper in his hands, taking a deep and shaky breath. He then glanced around spotting Nat standing a small distance away subtly watching him.

“Hey JJ, how do you feel about hanging out with Auntie Nat for a bit?” Steve asks looking down at JJ.

“NatNat!!” JJ exclaims excitedly, nodding his head.

“C'mon then” Steve smiled gently as he begins to walk towards Nat who closed the distance.

“You okay?” Nat asks him, giving JJ a warm smile.

“Yeah, do you mind watching him for a couple of hours, I need to sort a couple of things out,” Steve asks her, earning an arched brow in response.

“Okay, but are you sure you’re okay?” Nat asks as she takes JJ from him.

“Yeah I am, I promise, just need to check this out” Steve promises holding up the envelope.

“Good but call me if you need me okay,” Nat tells him firmly.

“I will I promise, thank you Nat” Steve smiles before looking at JJ “I’ll be back later bean, be good for Auntie Nat” he smiles kissing the top of JJ’s head.

“Say bye-bye JJ” Nat encourages lifting JJ’s hand and getting him to wave.

“Ba-Ba” JJ giggles doing his best to copy Nat.

“Bye-bye JJ” Steve chuckles, giving him a small wave before heading off towards the garage.

Climbing into his car, Steve placed the envelope down on the passenger seat. Letting out a deep sigh as he started the car and began the drive back towards the city, back towards the area he grew up in. Brooklyn.

It didn’t take him long to find the place he was after. He had already visited it a couple of times before, but that was years ago now back before the accords. Turning off the engine he grabbed the envelope and climbed out of the car.

He stood at the bottom of the path, eyes studying the beaten-up suburban house in front of him. It looked a lot worse than it did the last time he saw it. Like it too had been through a rough few years. Opening up the envelope he pulled out the deed Okoye had given him, this was his home now.

He remembered when he found it, advertised in the newspaper back at the start of 2016. Something about it stood out to him, so he decided to check it out. From the moment he first saw it, he knew this was going to be the house you and he would grow old in and raise a family in. It was perfect, it had 5 bedrooms, a large spacious lounge and kitchen, and a large garden perfect for kids to play in. He planned to purchase it, fix it up and surprise you with it. But the accords got in the way so he never got the chance.

The day he’d asked T’Challa to help him secure it for him was a distant memory. Of a time when he felt more optimistic about their time on the run, a time before JJ. He had completely forgotten about it as his life changed around him.

He tipped out the envelope the keys to the house falling into the palm of his hand. Taking a deep breath he made his way up the overgrown path and onto the front porch. He unlocked the door, pushing it open with a loud creak.

Stepping inside he looked around at the house, seeing the damage. But despite all of that he still sees it as the house for his family. He could picture JJ running down the stairs, through the kitchen and into the backyard. What stood out the most though was the fact he couldn’t picture you. And while he was sad that he couldn’t, he also saw it as a step to moving on, something you’d want him to do.

It was definitely a fixer-upper and a much bigger task than it was before. But Dr Raynor had told him to try and find something to direct his energy towards so maybe this was it. He’d fix up the house and it would be where he’d raise JJ, away from the life of being an Avenger.

Feeling a surge of purpose, Steve wanted to get started on this project almost immediately. He looked around the house finding all the areas that needed fixing first, as he moved around the house he found an old broom. He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he began sweeping, large piles of dust and leaves soon collecting around the house ready to be thrown away. Not that he had a bin bag to put them into though.

“Knock knock!” Steve heard someone call out through the house.

Frowning he made his way out of the kitchen towards the voice, spotting a short and stocky black woman standing in his front entrance. When she sees him she gives him a small smile, raising her hand in greeting.

“Hi sorry to barge in but I saw you arrive and I’ve been wondering whose house this has been for years now” she explains gesturing around the house “I’m Roberta by the way, I live next door” she smiles holding out her hand.

“Steve, you lived in this area long?” Steve asks shaking her hand.

“Only six months now, my house used to be my sister’s, I used to live in Florida but…” Roberta explains before trailing off at the end, a small awkward smile on her face.

“I’m sorry” Steve mutters looking down in shame.

“I’m guessing you’ve said that a lot the past year” Roberta comments making Steve glance back up “and I’m sure there’s been plenty of people that’s told you to stop” she adds knowingly.

Steve lets out a small huff of a laugh nodding his head “my therapist mostly” he confirms.

“well you should listen to them because we all lost someone, I’m sorry about your wife,” Roberta says stepping forward and putting a comforting hand on his arm.

“Thank you,” Steve says clearing his throat “did you lose anyone, besides your sister?” Steve asks after a moment.

“My neighbour and his niece down in Florida, you know you remind me of him, the weight of the world on your shoulders” Roberta sighs sadly as she looks up at Steve “you even kinda look like him, but he had dark brown hair and a beard, and a terrible taste in shirts” Roberta snorts shaking her head.

“well my dress sense was pretty bad when I first came out of the ice so we probably would have gotten along” Steve chuckles shrugging his shoulders and making Roberta smile.

“so you fixing this place up?” Roberta asks glancing around at the house.

“That’s the plan, hopefully, I can get enough of it done to move in with my son maybe in the next few months” Steve shrugs looking around.

“Have you done this sort of thing before?” Roberta asks raising a brow.

Steve shrugs tilting his head from side to side “no, but it can’t be that hard?” he says making Roberta laugh.

“It’s surprisingly hard if you don’t know what you’re doing,” Roberta says making Steve’s shoulders drop slightly “but it’s fine, my neighbour taught me a good deal about DIY so I can help” Roberta offers.

Steve smiles nodding his head in agreement “yeah that sounds great thank you so much”

“I look forward to working with you Rogers, and to meeting mini Rogers” she grins making Steve laugh as he shook her hand again.

With the help of Roberta within two months Steve had been able to get the house to a point where it was structurally sound once more. Doors and windows had been replaced, holes in the walls filled in, and flooring replaced. Steve’s next job was to go into the crawl space under the house to check the pipes and find which ones needed replacing.

As he pulled off the access cover and began to crawl in he began to curse, wishing he’d asked Nat to help out because it was far too tight in here. Bordering on claustrophobic, Steve was seriously concerned that he might actually get stuck.

He was about halfway in when he froze at the sound of growling. He glanced around in the direction it was coming in to see something hiding in the darkness. He slowly reached into his back pocket to pull out his flashlight, contemplating for a moment whether shining a bright light at it, whatever it was, was a good idea or not. He was fairly certain it couldn’t be anything too dangerous but it definitely sounded like it could claw his face off. His escape route was also compromised.

Curiosity got the better of him and he turned on his torch and shined it over at the creature in the corner. He let out a deep breath when he saw it was just a tiny little puppy cowering in fear. It looked so tiny, covered in mud and dirt. It probably hadn’t eaten in days.

“hey it's okay, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Steve says calmly but the puppy just barks and whines shuffling further away from Steve.

Steve sighed deciding to call for reinforcements. He crawled back out of the crawl space sitting back on his ankles as he grabbed his phone and dialled Roberta.

“Hey, Steve, you okay? You haven’t got a massive splinter again have you?” Roberta asks making Steve roll his eyes.

“No, but I do need your help, are you home right now?” Steve asks her glancing over at her house.

“yeah I am, where are you?” Roberta asks, Steve seeing her walk past her kitchen window.

“outside, look out your window,” Steve tells her, watching as she turns to look at him, Steve waving he she spotted him.

“Can you bring me some old towels and some chunks of meat or sausages or something,” Steve asks her, seeing her look over at him in confusion.

“uh yeah, sure I’ll see what I’ve got” She murmurs before hanging up.

Sliding his phone back into his pocket Steve looked back down at the crawl space to see the puppy had moved a little closer but not enough for Steve to grab it. He sits back up when he hears footsteps approaching.

“I didn’t have any sausages but I have beef jerky?” Roberta offers passing Steve the pack “are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?”

“a rescue mission” Steve states simply, gesturing for her to take a look.

Roberta frowns before getting down on her knees and looking into the crawl space, coos and awws escaping her mouth when she saw the puppy.

“Don’t worry pup, we’ll get you out,” she tells the puppy before sitting up “this might take a while” she warns Steve.

“that’s fine, I have time” he smiles breaking off a piece of jerky and tossing it towards the puppy.

Steve watches as the puppy hesitantly creeps forward, sniffing the piece of jerky on the floor before quickly eating it. Steve smiles as he continues to throw pieces of jerky in, slowly encouraging the puppy towards him. Once the puppy was close enough Steve just held out the jerky. The puppy eyed him cautiously, carefully sniffing the piece of meat in Steve’s hand before gently taking it from his hand.

Soon enough the puppy was out in the open allowing Steve to get a good look at it. He still wasn’t certain what breed of dog it was since it was covered in so much dirt, its fur all matted and gross. Thankfully the puppy was getting comfortable enough to let Steve gently stroke it.

“That’s it, good job, who’s a good boy” Steve smiled as he stroked the puppy’s head, its tail wagging at the praise.

“can you pass me the towel?” Steve whispers to Roberta, who quickly passes him the towel.

Steve lays the towel over his crossed legs, gently encouraging the pup into his lap with some more food. Once the pup was happily sat in his lap he wrapped it up in the towel, the pup whining slightly but soon relaxing as Steve picked it up and held it close.

“let's get this little guy to the vets,” Steve says, Roberta nodding in agreement.

Thankfully the local vets weren’t too busy and were able to see Steve and the puppy immediately. Once the pup was on the examination table Steve went to take a step back to allow the vet to work but the puppy whined so much that Steve had to stay close enough to reassure it.

“Okay so this guy isn’t in too bad of shape, a bit underweight and malnourished, he has got fleas but we can give you some treatment for that, I’d say he’s about 3 months old,” The vet says once he was finished.

“Good, so what are the next steps?” Steve asks crossing his arms.

“well we will clean him up and get rid of some of this matted fur, but from there it gets a little complicated” the vet sighs “rescue centres across the country are overrun at the moment and while this little guy will probably have no issue getting adopted they are struggling to take any new ones on”

Steve nods breathing out a deep sigh as he ran his hand over the puppy’s head. Between renovations on the house and looking after JJ, Steve wasn’t sure he had the space in his life for a puppy right now.

“My suggestion is that you look after this little guy in the meantime and once he’s back to full health you put him up for adoption privately” The vet suggests, Steve nodding his head gently.

“yeah that’s probably the best option, thank you for all the help” Steve sighs shaking the vet's hand.

“not a problem, follow me and we’ll get this little guy cleared up,” Vet says gesturing for Steve to follow him.

Steve spent the next half an hour with one of the nurses helping them clean up the puppy who would only whine if Steve left it alone. Soon enough all the dirt was gone, the matted fur brushed out, and flee treatment administered revealing a tiny ball of golden fluff.

“oh aren’t you the cutest golden retriever pup!” the nurse coos as they dry the puppy off.

Once they were done the vets then gave Steve the essentials he needed, a dog bed, lead and collar, food and a couple of bowls.

“thank you for all the help” Steve nods as he gets ready to take the puppy home.

“it's nothing, and just pop back in when you want to register him” the nurse smiles.

Steve shakes his head “oh no I’m not planning on keeping him permanently” he tells her.

The nurse lets out a small huff of a laugh “sure, I’ll see you soon Mr Rogers” she nods knowingly.

“you are so gonna end up adopting him officially” Roberta smirks as they head back out to the car.

“no I’m not I’m too busy with the house and an actual toddler to raise a puppy” Steve sighs as he climbs back in the car, the puppy curling up in his lap making Steve smile warmly down at it.

He did wish he could adopt this little guy and if his life was a little simpler then he would. He did already love the little guy though, which was a major problem.

When he got back to the compound that evening he found Nat and JJ in the common room playing with some of JJ’s toys. Nat glanced up when Steve walked in, her brows furrowing when she saw the puppy in his arms.

“you didn’t say you were getting a dog” She comments as he walked over.

“It wasn’t planned, found him under the house, I’m just looking after him until I find him a permanent place to live” Steve explains as he sits down, Nat giving him the same knowing look that both Roberta and the nurse gave him.

“You’re a terrible liar Steve” Nat smirks making Steve chuckle and shake his head.

“I don’t know Nat, it just seems like a big thing to take on right now” Steve sighs as looks down at the puppy in his arms.

“it is but you can do it, you can put the house off for a little bit and just focus on these two” Nat says nodding to JJ “I can see how happy the little guy makes you already, I think it might be good for you Steve”

Steve sighs nodding his head “yeah, maybe you’re right” he concedes.

“of course I’m right! So what are you gonna name him? Buddy?” Nat smiles stroking the puppy behind the ear.

Steve purses his lips in thought, his mind going back to the conversation he had with you in Berlin. He lets out a small chuckle glancing up at the sky, maybe this puppy was a gift from you, it was the specific breed Steve had asked for after all. Therefore it felt right that Steve named it in your honour.

“no, I think he should be called Scout” Steve smiles, picking the name you suggested all those years ago.

“Scout I like it” Nat nods in agreement “hey JJ, c’mere,” she says getting JJ to toddle over to them.

His eyes widen when he sees the puppy in Steve’s lap quickly dashing forward towards the puppy, Steve puts his hand out to calm him.

“whoa slow down bean, we need to be calm around him okay?” Steve says reaching out to manoeuvre JJ so he was sitting on the floor next to Steve, JJ nodding his head.

“JJ, this is Scout, he’s gonna be staying with us” Steve explains lifting Scout up so JJ could get a better look.

“out” JJ manages to say, pointing to Scout.

“yeah that’s right, now he’s really small like you so we have to be gentle with him,” Steve says setting Scout back in his lap before taking JJ’s hand and helping him gently stoke Scout’s fur.

JJ giggles bouncing excitedly at the sensation making a wide smile break out on Steve’s face. Steve decided at that moment that adopting Scout was one of the best decisions he’s ever made.

6 months since Steve first started working on the house and it was finally the day that he was officially moving in. The house wasn’t finished at all. But with the help of Roberta Steve had managed to get it to a point where they could move in and live there while Steve worked on finishing the rest of the house.

He was standing in his room packing up the last of his clothes when he heard a small sniffle behind him. He frowned turning around, he glanced over at the crib to see JJ still fast asleep, Scout also asleep in his bed at the foot of Steve’s bed. It was only when he glanced over at the door that he saw Nat standing there hugging herself tightly tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asks quietly as he put down the sweater he was holding and makes his way over.

“you’re really leaving?” she mutters her voice breaking.

Steve sighs sadly nodding his head, watching as she bit her lips turning her head away as she tried and failed to stop herself from crying.

“hey c’mere,” Steve sighs pulling her into a tight hug.

“I know when you told me 6 months ago that it was gonna be happening, but I just- I didn’t expect for the day to actually come and for you three to leave, it's gonna be so quiet here” Nat sighs wiping away her tears.

“I know and I’m sorry but you’ll have Bruce here, and you can always come to stay with us if you miss us, you might need to give me some warning because the guest rooms are all bare at the moment,” Steve says earning a weak chuckle from Nat.

“do you really have to go?” she asks.

“yeah, I can’t stay here Nat, there are too many memories and ghosts, going to therapy helped but I can’t move on fully if I’m constantly seeing her” Steve sighs shaking his head.

“I promised Y/N that we’d raise our kids somewhere away from the Avengers, give them a normal life, I need to keep that promise” he finishes.

Nat nods her head sniffling back her tears “I know, I understand, I really do, I just will really miss you guys”

“and we’ll miss you too, but like I said you can visit whenever you want, don’t even need to call ahead just turn up and we’ll be happy to have you” Steve smiles rubbing her arms as he looked down at her.

“Thanks Steve, just don’t burn the house down the first time you cook okay?” Nat jokes weakly making Steve chuckle.

“I won’t, I promise” Steve smiles, relieved to see a smile slowly working its way onto Nat’s face.

“But look we don’t have to go over tonight so why don’t I drop this last lot off and then tonight we can all hang out, order in some pizza and watch a movie together, I promise I won’t let JJ pick the movie” Steve smirks making Nat laugh nodding her head.

“yeah sounds good, thank you so much Steve” Nat smiles hugging Steve again.

Steve quickly finished up packing up the last of his stuff, JJ waking up just in time for Steve to leave him and Scout with Nat and Bruce before heading over to Brooklyn. After he dropped the last of the stuff off, he made the journey back to the compound. Grabbing some pizza on his way.

“I thought I’d help sweeten the deal” Steve smirks leaning over the back of the couch and holding the pizza boxes out in front of Nat.

“I don’t accept bribes” Nat smirks as she takes the boxes from him “is this one JJ’s?” she asks pointing to the smallest box.

“yeah, got all his veggies organised into a smiley face” Steve grins making Nat snort with laughter.

“I’ll go let Bruce know I’m back while you pick a movie, and nothing gory alright,” Steve says standing back up, pointing at Nat in mock warning.

“yes sir,” Nat smirks saluting him.

Steve laughed heading off to the labs to get Bruce, finding him sat at his computer tiredly.

“hey food’s here,” Steve says grabbing Bruce’s attention.

“Hm? Oh yeah sure, I’ll be right there” Bruce nods barely looking up from his computer.

“nope, c’mon it’s my last night here so we’re all having fun,” Steve says walking over and pulling Bruce’s chair away from the desk.

“And I need to know you’ll be looking out for Nat once I’m gone” Steve sighs putting his hands down on his hips.

Bruce sighs nodding his head as he turned around to face Steve “I will I promise” he promises as he stands up.

“Thanks Banner, maybe you two will be able to pick up where you guys left off,” Steve says shrugging his shoulders but Bruce shakes his head.

“I think that ship might have sailed” Bruce sighs taking off his glasses and slipping them into his shirt pocket.

“then maybe it's time you get a dingy and sail after it” Steve smirks putting his hand on Bruce’s shoulder making Bruce chuckle weakly.

“c’mon let's not keep Nat and JJ waiting” Steve smiles wrapping his arm around Bruce’s shoulders and leading him out of the labs.

Once in the common room, they all got comfortable, Steve sat on the floor with JJ on his lap while he helped him eat his pizza. While also simultaneously stopping JJ from giving too much food to Scout who was sitting by Steve’s feet patiently waiting for any scraps. Steve eventually caves and tosses him a couple of pieces of chicken off his own pizza.

As the movie played Steve smiled as JJ squealed with laughter whenever Shrek appeared on the screen. Steve spent a large majority of the movie glancing around the room, smiling when he saw Nat and Bruce smiling and completely relaxed. He knew that so many of the team were missing but it felt normal, just like their old movie nights.

He wasn’t sure why but he then glanced over his shoulder to the spot on the couch behind him. Taking a deep breath when he saw it was no longer empty, now being occupied by you. he watched as you smiled and laughed at the movie, you then looked down at him and smiled warmly at him a proud look on your face. Steve smiled gently back at you before looking away, back towards JJ pressing a gentle kiss to the top of the toddler's head.

Steve was starting to think moving out of the compound was a really bad idea. He didn’t realise how much help he’d been getting until he had to do everything all on his own. It had only been two weeks and he was starting to lose the plot. He had barely stopped, he was constantly cleaning or doing something with JJ or telling him not to pull Scout’s tail when they played.

Steve collapsed down on the couch with a heavy sigh, he wanted to curl up and nap like JJ was but there was a massive pile of laundry that he needed to sort. Groaning to himself he sat back up and began working through the pile, sorting out what needed ironing and what he could just fold. He then started pairing up all the socks cursing when he discovered there were barely any matching pairs, a mystery he couldn’t work out because he knows all his socks went in the machine perfectly fine.

He was about halfway through the pile when he frowned. It was quiet. It was never quiet. Quiet meant something was wrong. Glancing around he tried to spot Scout but couldn’t see him anywhere.

Steve quickly jumped up from the couch and started searching the house. Praying that he would find the pup before he got into too much trouble, or ate another pair of Steve’s trainers.

Of course, Scout was in the last place Steve checked, his ensuite. He nearly didn’t check it but then he heard rustling behind the door. Pushing open the door his eyes widened at the mess Scout had made. Toilet paper all over the floor ripped to shreds. Scout rolling around on the floor with toilet paper covering him.

“Scout! No! bad dog!” Steve scolded making Scout stop suddenly, standing up and looking like a mummified dog, in any other circumstance Steve would have found that hilarious but right now he was not impressed.

It only got worse when Steve stepped inside the bathroom, his foot instantly landing in a puddle which was disturbingly warm. Steve instantly recoiled peeling his soaked sock off his foot before chucking it in the bath.

“That better be the only present you left under all this toilet roll” Steve grimaces as he steps around the puddle reaching down to lift scout up.

He carries him through the house and back down the stairs, moving his head out of the way as Scout tried to lick his face.

“too late for apologies buddy,” Steve says as he opens up the back door, putting Scout down on the grass.

“This is where you pee and poop,” Steve says gesturing to the garden “that is where I pee and poop” Steve continues pointing back at the house.

“me” Steve reiterates “you,” he says pointing at the grass.

Scout however just sits in front of Steve tilting his head in confusion as he watches Steve.

“right are you gonna go or not?” Steve sighs putting his hands on his hips, but Scout makes no movement to do anything.

“right come on inside,” Steve says beckoning Scout back inside.

Steve makes his way back up the stairs, scout at his heels the entire way. Steve grabbed some cleaning supplies on his way before he makes a start clearing up Scout’s mess. As he worked Scout sat at the bathroom door watching him work, wagging his tail when Steve discovered it wasn’t just a puddle Scout had left him.

The evening Steve wasn’t sure why he thought he’d be able to cook a proper meal for him and JJ. Because of course it went horribly wrong, Scout barking, JJ screaming and crying as the fire alarm wailed, Steve opening up every window and waving a tea towel by the fire alarm to waft away the smoke cursing at his bad luck.

“Need a hand?” Roberta called out as she came in from the backdoor.

“yeah if you could calm JJ” Steve called back as he continued to waft the smoke away.

Finally, the smoke cleared and the alarm stopped, JJ’s crying reduced to small sniffles and Scout stopped barking. Steve sighed in defeat as he dumped the meal he was trying to make and subsequently cremated in the trash, slumping against the counter and rubbing his forehead tiredly.

“What happened?” Roberta asks him as she rubs JJ’s back soothingly.

“I was just trying to cook a proper meal for JJ, not something that you just heat from frozen, why I thought I could cook I don’t know” Steve sighed as he moved to sit down at the kitchen table.

“you can’t cook?” Roberta asks surprised.

Steve shook his head “no Y/N did all the cooking, I did the driving since she couldn’t drive, Nat did all the cooking while we were at the compound” he explained with a sigh.

“I don’t even know what went wrong I followed the recipe exactly” he scoffs shaking his head.

“Sometimes that’s the issue,” Roberta tells him making him huff in annoyance.

“so I’m destined to raise my son on microwave and frozen food?” he scoffs looking over at JJ who was curled up in Roberta’s arms sucking his thumb.

“no you’re not, look nobody is an expert at cooking off the bat, you learn as you go, work out all the kinks and nuances with your oven, and follow your instincts” Roberta reassures him.

“Look I’ll help, I’ve got some easy recipes that I can teach you that will work you in and then you can build on them, and I made some lasagne tonight so I’ll bring that over for us all to eat” she offers.

“thank you Roberta I can’t thank you enough” Steve sighs gratefully.

“It's nothing now you two have a little cuddle while I go grab it” Roberta smiles standing up and passing JJ over to Steve.

Steve smiled thankfully, wrapping his arms around JJ and letting him curl up in his arms. His tiny fist gripping onto Steve’s shirt tightly.

“I’m sorry bean, I didn’t mean to scare you” Steve apologises running his hand over JJ’s scruffy blond hair.

“you okay now? do you want scout?” Steve asks him wiping away the remaining tears on JJ’s cheeks.

“out” JJ sniffles, making Steve smile slightly.

“Scout, c’mere boy!” Steve whistles, the pup quickly trotting over to Steve who pats the space on his lap.

Scout jumps up onto Steve’s lap, Steve’s arms wrapped around both JJ and Scout to ensure neither of them fell. Once he was settled Scout turned to JJ and started licking his face, cleaning up all the tears and making JJ giggle. A smile appeared on Steve’s face as his son laughed and stroked Scout's soft fur.

Soon Roberta returned and started plating up the lasagne for the three of them, a nice small portion for JJ already cut up so he just had to feed himself with a spoon. As they ate Steve smiled gently as he watch JJ get more of his food around his mouth than in it.

“Someone is gonna need a bath after dinner” Roberta chuckles, Steve nodding his head in agreement.

“yeah, hopefully the excitement of this evening will mean I can get him to bed early and get on with everything else I need to do” Steve sighs as he pushes his food around his plate.

“there’s a pile of laundry the size of mount Everest in the living room that I had to abandon after someone left me a present in my bathroom” Steve continues glancing down at Scout who looked back up at Steve with a small whimper “yeah I’m still not happy about that pal”

“if you ever need help Steve don’t hesitate to ask, I know how hard it is being a single parent,” Roberta tells him gently.

Steve takes a deep breath before letting out a long sigh and nodding his head “yeah it is, I just didn’t realise how hard it would be, I had it so easy before and now it’s just me” Steve says leaning back in his chair.

“it’ll get easier don’t worry, you’ve only been living here a couple of weeks so give yourself some time to adjust okay, and you know you can drop JJ off at daycare for the afternoon to give you some time to do everything you need to do, work on the house” Roberta offers but Steve sighs shaking his head.

“I don’t know, I’d feel bad leaving him somewhere when I’m at home” Steve sighs looking over at JJ.

“Okay then I can look after him some afternoons or maybe he can go see Morgan, there’s options Steve you don’t have to work yourself to the bone,” Roberta tells him.

“would you be okay with that? Having him some afternoons?” Steve asks hesitantly.

“of course, I love the kid” Roberta smiles.

“Thank you that would really help, give me time to work and also know he’s just next door if there’s a problem” Steve smiles nodding his head gratefully.

“It's not a problem and if there’s anything else you need help with then just let me know,” Roberta tells him.

“you wouldn’t have a tip to stop socks disappearing would you? I’ve never had the problem before but now I keep losing them and I don’t have a single matching pair” Steve asks making Roberta laugh.

“they’ll be in the house somewhere, just keep the odd ones in a box or something and whenever you do a load of washing check to see if any of the matching pairs are there” Roberta laughs.

That evening once JJ was in bed, Steve finished sorting through all the laundry ready to start ironing tomorrow and he made his way up to bed, Scout at his heels. As soon as the bedroom door opens Steve expected Scout to run to the bathroom in the hunt for toilet roll but instead he scampers underneath Steve’s bed.

“hey what you doing under there?” Steve asks getting down on all fours to peek under the bed.

As he does so he spots Scout with one of his socks in his mouth, surrounded by a pile of socks.

“Well, that explains where they all went” Steve mutters in disbelief.

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