#feedback is welcome as always!
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I'll Keep You Warm
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader
Summary: Arthur comes to your rescue after you get stranded in a thunderstorm in the Heartlands. As he looks after you, he risks exposing your secret relationship, leading him to a breakthrough.
Word Count: 6.9k
A/N: Did not expect it to be so long! So I divided it in 3 parts. Skip to part 3 for the fluff!
Warnings: 18+. NSFW. Mild hypothermia. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Fluff. Secret relationship. A very fluffy happy ending. Arthur Morgan is a human furnace.
AO3 Link
A/N: Set in Chapter 2 at Horseshoe Overlook.
Chapter 1: Into the Storm
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The sun is setting and you still aren't back. Even worse, the thunderstorm is not letting down, becoming stronger with each passing minute. Arthur grows sicker with worry at the sound of every thunder in the distance. You should've been back by now.
You went to Emerald Station to retrieve a package sent to you by your uncle in California, leaving after breakfast, hoping to be back for the afternoon so you could still return to your chore duties at camp. You had begged Miss Grimshaw to let you go and somehow she agreed. You'd been to the area before and were certain the journey would be easy, even with your new mare, Rosemary. It was a seemingly sunny day, perfect for a ride out east.
It started to rain just before you got there and you didn't worry much about it, but by the time you left it was pouring and you still had to cross most of the Heartlands back to camp.
Arthur had left very early in the morning for Valentine and by that time you were still fast asleep. He had passed by your tent before leaving, hoping to get a kiss goodbye. As he peeked inside you were still dreaming, a little smile decorating your face. He'd be a fool to wake you up so he headed north, leaving content with the image of you dreaming peacefully. What he didn't know is that you had been dreaming of him.
He got back to camp in the middle of the afternoon, drenched from head to toe as the storm had caught him a few miles back. Everyone was sheltered in their tents and he headed to his to change his clothes, thinking he could see you after. Maybe keep you company through the rainy night. But when he opened the flaps of your tent you weren't there. Curious, but not worried, he went to Miss Grimshaw's tent to ask about you and make sure you had safely returned.
Miss Grimshaw is one of two people who knows the two of you were involved, catching you late one night on the outskirts of camp, where Arthur would take you to have some alone time in private. Arthur had been pushing you into a tree, all hot and bothered, both your lips intertwined, when she walked in and saw you, your hands on his shoulders, his hands on your ass. No words were exchanged but you saw her look at you in astonishment and leave. You felt mortified and sick to your stomach. Arthur started laughing, looking down at you, pecking your face.
"Don't worry, darlin', it's alright" he said in between chuckles, noticing the worry on your face.
"You say that because you don't have to work with her!" you replied, worried she'd punish you with extra work, or worse, by telling everybody else in camp. You had promised each other you'd keep the relationship a secret until you were comfortable enough to take the next step. Luckily for you, it seems she hasn't told anyone. Yet.
The only other person who knows about you two is Hosea, the only person in camp Arthur had trusted to tell. Of course, he didn't have much of a choice when Hosea asked Arthur one day why his eyes followed your every move with such undeniable affection. This embarrassed Arthur because he thought he was being discreet. But Hosea just knew him too well. He could tell when Arthur was smitten.
With dry clothes on his back, Arthur finally reaches Miss Grimshaw's tent and inquires. "Miss Grimshaw, where's Miss Y/N?"
"She's not back yet, I'm afraid. She told me she'd be back by now." Arthur's heart sinks, his worry coloring his face. "I'm sure she's fine, Arthur, don't worry", she says, trying to ease the troubled lover in front of her.
Arthur heads to his tent, opening the flaps so he can see you and your mare arriving, hoping that you are not far off. But he grows more distraught as time goes by and, when he sees the sunset approaching he decides he can no longer wait. He warns Miss Grimshaw he is going out to look for you and gets on his horse. He starts galloping furiously, fearing for the worst, hoping for the best.
He knows exactly which road you'd take to get back because he'd shown it to you a few weeks ago, on your way to one of your secret rendezvous. He's sure you would not stray from the path, knowing your fear of getting lost in the wilderness. You'd only venture into it with him by your side, needing him there to protect you.
The further he gallops the worst the storm gets and it doesn't take long for Arthur to get drenched again. The night is creeping in and with it comes an unrelenting wind. He despairs at the thought of you out in this cold storm that shows no signs of easing. He stops every mile or so to shout your name into the wind, hoping you hear him and he finds you. His voice grows louder each time, the desperation fueling him.
It's been hours since you left Emerald Station and since then you've been under the storm, getting colder as it rages. You kept thinking you could get back to camp so you pushed your horse through it, hoping the storm would ease on the way. Before reaching Twin Stack Pass, the downpour turned into a thunderstorm, the lightning growling around you. After the loudest one, your mare, already spooked, dropped you down on the ground before you had time to react. You watched as Rosemary galloped out of view and you realized you were stranded, your back aching from the fall. You didn't want to stray from the road, hoping that someone would ride by and take you someplace sheltered. You rested your back against a large rock nearby where you could flag down any riders and waited. You watched the sky as it grew darker, feeling your clothes getting heavier. You soon began to shiver, feeling your entire body grow cold and numb.
You started thinking of the times Arthur had taken you someplace out west or east, where you'd set up camp in a remote place, far from anyone alive. You would help Arthur gather some wood and light a fire, big enough to last through the night, burning bright enough that you could see each other's freckles and scars, your eyes gleaming like fireflies. He'd take you in his arms and you would let him, your moans echoing in the night, rivaled only by the sound of wolves up in the mountains.
You're thinking of Arthur and his warm touch on those campfire nights when echoes of his voice reach your ears. At first, you think it's another memory but you begin to realize his voice is real, jolting you to get up. You try to place where the voice is coming from, stumbling to the road so he can see you.
"Arthur!", you scream louder than you expect in your weariness, your voice weak from the cold. He turns to see you standing up ahead by the road. He rides to where you were, knots in his stomach from looking at you. Even though it's already nighttime, he can see your clothes are completely drenched and your skin is sickly pale by the light of his lantern. He dismounts and you lock eyes, relieved to see each other. As he touches your face and arms, he feels your chilled skin.
"It's ok, darlin', I'm here. I've found ya" he says. He kisses you on your blue lips, the coldest thing he's ever felt. He leans into your ear. "I'll keep ya warm now, ya hear?"
You're relieved that he is holding you now otherwise you might have collapsed to the ground. You've become so numb you can barely feel the rain falling. But the moment that man lays his hands on you you feel a shiver down your spine, stronger than any thunder in the sky. You could swear his kiss could have brought you back to life if he had found you dead.
"Rosemary she- she got scared" you whimper back, trying to explain what happened. He can see tears falling down your cheeks despite the rain.
"It's alright, I came to get ya. You're safe now, I promise" he vows, kissing your cheeks where the tears fall.
Overwhelmed with worry, he begins to prepare you for the journey back to camp, making sure you are as dry as possible. He takes off your coat, it is so damp with rain it no longer does you any favors. He sees your blouse is just as bad. "I think it's best if we take this off, ok?"
You nod in approval and he undresses you until you're in your chemise. He quickly takes off his coat and puts it on you, placing the sleeves around your arms, one at a time, closing the buttons as fast as he can. His coat, despite being wet, has a drier lining and his body heat lingers inside, feeling as warm as his touch. He places you on the saddle sideways and he seats behind you, getting ready to ride again. His body heat irradiates around you. You finally feel some relief.
You wrap your arms around his torso and he motions his hips forward so he can be closer to you, holding you in a tender embrace. Your hands touch his back and your head is on the crook of his neck, his jaw shielding your face from the rain. He untucks his shirt from his pants and guides your hands under it so you can warm them against his skin. Your touch makes him shiver. He reaches for his bedroll in the back of his horse, unfurls it over your shoulders, and adjusts it as best as he can to cover you. "You hold tight now, darlin'. We'll be there soon."
The horse takes off at breakneck speed as Arthur directs him back to camp, trying to lead you as far away as possible from the storm still raging around you. Your head sways with every gallop against his chest and neck and you can feel his warm skin against your cheek, his beard chaffing your wet hair. After a while, Arthur's body heat starts to make you feel warmer, the cowboy keeping his promise.
Despite your weariness, you lift your head to look into his eyes, seeking comfort in them, finding just that. You mean to thank him for saving you but somehow you're not able to speak and he tells you "Just rest now darlin', don't worry." You lay your head against his chest again and he rubs a hand on your back, soothing you as best as he can. After some time, the pace of the gallops starts making you sleepy and you dose off to the sound of Arthur's loud and frantic breathing, leaving the storm behind.
Chapter 2: Storm Behind
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You're not sure how long you're out until Arthur speaks to you again. "Y/N, sweetheart, ya need to wake up. We're here." You open your eyes and see that the rain has stopped and the horse has slowed. Arthur kisses you on your forehead to wake you up.
Before you come to a halt, Arthur beckons for Miss Grimshaw. "Miss Grimshaw! We need your help over here!"
She must not have been far as she is quick to answer. "What's the matter? What happened?"
"Miss Y/N here got caught in the storm. She needs to be warmed up."
"Of course. I'll draw her a warm bath. I'll heat the water right away. Girls, help Y/N get changed!"
You lift your head and stare at Arthur for a moment while he still holds you. At that moment all you want to do is kiss him, his piercing eyes watching you as you slightly shiver. He lets go of you slowly and removes the bedroll from your back, helping you down from the horse, making sure you don't stumble. Before you have a chance to say anything, Karen, Tilly, and Mary-Beth are leading you to your tent. You glance over your shoulder to look at Arthur who is still looking at you, swallowing hard as you fade out of sight.
The girls close your tent and help you undress, removing Arthur's wet coat off of you, your body still quivering. They remove all your other clothes, dry you with a towel and give you a soft nightgown with long sleeves and then wrap you up in the biggest quilt they can find. They help you walk to the camp's fire, sitting you in a chair in front of it, hoping it keeps you warm while the bath water heats up. Some members of the gang are chatting around the fire when you arrive, but the conversation goes silent when you seat down. Seeing you shake from the cold, they think it's best not to disturb you.
"Nice weather today, eh, fellas?" you joke, as you hold out your hands and feet closer to the fire. Mary-Beth hands you a warm cup of coffee that you start to sip when you hear loud footsteps and a deep voice.
"Miss Y/N can have my tent for the night, Miss Grimshaw. She'll be more comfortable there." You look up to see Arthur in a dry set of clothes, wearing that blue shirt you like so much.
"Very well." Miss Grimshaw removes the pot of hot water from the fire and sets out to draw your bath. Arthur sits down next to you, worry in his eyes.
"You ok, Miss Y/N?" Your name is said almost in a whisper.
"I will be after a warm bath," you say, voice still a little shaky. You break away from his gaze, fearing that other people around the fire might see you're sweet on each other. But you feel Arthur's eyes linger on you.
It isn't long before the girls help you to the tent where the bathtub is and they help you into it. At first, the warm water feels too hot, but after a moment the feeling subsides and you're no longer uncomfortable. You rest your head against the edge of the tub and notice how tired you are, you could sleep for a whole day.
Miss Grimshaw tells the girls it's late and they should get to bed since they have chores early in the morning. They all wish you well and leave and the tent goes quiet.
"You're lucky Mr. Morgan found you in time, Miss Y/N, or you may not have lived to tell the tale."
"I know, Miss Grimshaw." You're noticing how the water is warming you up when you hear Arthur's voice outside the tent.
"May I come in, Miss Grimshaw?"
She hesitates for a second. "I guess you can, Mr. Morgan, yes." Arthur walks in and sees you in the tub, lying naked, and he's quick to turn away, aware that the two of you are not alone.
"You should stay in that tub as long as the water remains hot, Miss Y/N. And make sure you sleep all bundled up. Let me know if I can do anything else."
"Thank you, Miss Grimshaw," replies Arthur.
"Good night, Mr. Morgan. Miss Y/N." She heads out of the tent before you can thank her too.
Arthur looks at you and sighs loudly, reaching out to grab your hand, noticing it's not as cold as it was before.
"Will you keep me company?" you ask, wanting nothing more.
"Of course, darlin'." He grabs a nearby chair and sits by your side, still holding your hand, keeping it warm.
You look into his eyes and finally say "Thank you for saving me."
"Anytime, precious." He kisses you on your temple and you melt. He sees your lips, now slightly turning pink, no longer the blue color they were when he kissed you a few hours before. He doesn't resist them and he places his lips on yours, the hairs on your neck standing up like they have done so many times with him. You'd put good money on betting that Arthur Morgan is the best damn kisser west of Saint Denis.
He seats looking at you while you soak in your bath and you rub a sponge up and down your body so you can get the circulation flowing, your body waking up as you get warmer. His eyes follow your fingers, sometimes stopping to look at your face. You hand him the sponge after a while. "Can you get my back for me?" and he abides, soaking your skin as soft as he can, trying to make it enjoyable.
After doing your shoulders, he moves onto your chest but he drops the sponge, caressing you with his hands instead. He starts massaging your breasts slowly with his warm fingers before he's met with a hushed "Arthur Morgan!" from you. He doesn't stop and when he grazes a nipple you react loudly with a moan that surprises both him and you.
"Shh, try not to wake everyone, will ya?" He gives you a devious chuckle. He keeps caressing your body for a while longer, his fingers warming you up where they land. You plead with him not to touch the soles of your feet, knowing how ticklish you are, but he just goes ahead and does it anyway. It makes you recoil in laughter and you splash some water at him in response, your favorite blue shirt now wet. Delighted by the moment, Arthur heads back to your side and kisses you again.
"The water's cold now," you say and he helps you out of the tub. He hands you a towel to dry yourself but you give into the urge to wrap your whole body around him, getting him even wetter. "Sorry."
He laughs a little at the ploy. "That's alright. Might just need to change clothes for the third time today." You let go of his embrace and he finishes drying you up with the towel, reaching in places so you don't have to move too much. He finishes with a chaste kiss on the last spot he dries, your collarbone. "We should get ya to the tent to get some rest."
You notice your weariness has grown despite Arthur taking your mind off of it. He helps you dress the nightgown, wraps you in the quilt, and sticks his head out of the tent, making sure no one sees him leave with you. You reach his tent and he closes the flaps behind him.
"How ya feeling? Any better?" He heads towards you, concern in his eyes.
"Yeah, much better. Thank you. A little tired", you lied.
"Ok, let's get ya down." He helps you lie down on his cot, then reaches for another winter quilt in his wagon and places it around you. "You need anything else, darlin'?"
"Just you."
He starts removing his wet clothes and notices his union suit is soaked from your earlier embrace. It's not long before he stands naked beside you. The sight makes you burn with desire and you get up before he reaches for new clothes. You're quick to undress before he even asks what you're doing. You only have one request.
"Hold me, won't you?"
He takes you up at your words and embraces you tenderly. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He reaches down and looks at your face. "I said I'd keep ya warm, didn't I?"
You hold each other naked for a moment, having dreamed of this moment in days past. You haven't been intimate like this for a while, with Arthur unable to get you out of camp. After the terrible night you've had, it seems like a salve on your souls. He brushes his fingers down your back and you hold him by his shoulders, drowning in his manliness. It almost feels like you're dancing.
When your eyes meet, you kiss once again. "I swear you're the best damn kisser west of Saint Denis," you confess out loud and he laughs, surprised by your compliment. He caresses your cheeks after a smile forms on you, relieved you're feeling well enough to tease him. The heat of his body and the smile on his face warm both your body and soul.
"We should lay down," he says to your relief as you feel your legs tremble from fatigue. He leads you to the cot and lays you down before he arranges both quilts, joining you after. He tries to pull you on top of him as much as he can so his skin can still warm every inch of you, your head placed on his chest while you brush his beard with your fingers. He looks down at the top of your head and kisses your hair gently. You think it's stupid he's kissing your hair and not your lips, so you lunge upwards and correct him. His fingers reach the side of your thighs and they caress you as your hands settle on his arms. The tender touching continues for a while but it soon fades as you become sleepy and your eyelids start to close. Seeing this, he pulls up the quilts to your shoulders, wrapping his arms around you underneath them. He was so busy caressing you that he failed to notice how warm you are starting to feel.
"I love you," you manage to let out before the warmth of Arthur Morgan cradles you to the sweet relief of slumber.
"I love you too, darlin'." He sees you drift off and closes his eyes, content with the weight of the one he loves on top of him, safe from any thunderstorm. Tonight it's him that dreams of you.
Chapter 3: A Secret No More
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Arthur wakes up at first light like always and sees you have drifted, your head on the pillow instead of him, which makes him a little sad. He softly touches your forehead and notices your temperature is back to normal, your lips a scarlet shade again. He sighs of relief.
Since he is free to move without waking you it gives him the chance to get up and get some coffee before anybody in camp sees he has slept in his tent with you. He tries to sneak to the percolator and get back as quickly as possible, but he gives up when he sees Hosea has already spotted him on his way over. Both men exchange their good mornings and Arthur pours himself a cup.
"So, how is she?" inquires Hosea. Arthur guesses he knows you have spent the night together but no longer feels the need to keep secrets from him.
"She's doing much better." He takes a sip.
"Quite the scare you had there, I reckon."
"Yeah, sure did. But she's stronger than she looks."
"I'm sure she has an excellent caregiver," quips Hosea.
Arthur lets out a soft smile. He takes a few more sips before he decides to head back.
"Don't forget to take a cup for the missus," says Hosea as he reaches out to give Arthur his mug. He pours two cups of coffee, nods to Hosea in thanks, and goes back to his tent, anxious to set eyes on you again.
When he finally does, the sight of you makes the coffee in him stir. You look so beautiful and peaceful on his cot he's completely enthralled. He seats on the chair in front of you and gazes at you, forgetting his coffee, floored by seeing you sleep in his own tent.
He remembers how just the morning before he had woken up all alone, your body laying on another tent on the other side of camp. Since your relationship began, you have never spent the night over for fear that someone would catch you leaving his tent in the morning. When you did come over, you'd make sure you never fell asleep and always sneaked back in the middle of the night, your shoes in your hand and his saliva on your lips.
Arthur would complain about you leaving him every time but you were always quick to remind him. "We promised nobody else should find out." Arthur was never one to break promises, especially to you. But leaving his arms in the middle of the night was about the cruelest thing you ever did to him. As much as you wanted to give in to him, you never did, your mind plagued by the image of Miss Grimshaw's eyes watching you.
But things are different this morning. For the first time, Arthur watches you in his tent in a whole new morning light and it dawns on him how much he wants to see this at every sunrise.
He realizes that hiding your relationship from the rest of the camp is idiotic, he doesn't care if people know about you two anymore. He is ready to face the stares and ridicule, the jokes from Sean, the sneers from Micah. He thinks that will be a fair price to pay for the privilege of having you sleep by his side.
You had said your I love yous last night and he is confident that if he proposes this to you, you will accept. He begins to squirm in his seat in anticipation, hoping you wake up soon. As if by telepathy, or the noise of his chair, you do.
You open your eyes to see a dashing cowboy sitting in a chair, his face serious in thought. For a second you think something's happened and he's about to tell you bad news.
"Hey, sweetheart. How are ya?" He leans over to kiss you and his lips land on your nose and then your temple.
"Better, I think." You wiggle your toes and touch your belly. You feel normal.
He grabs your hands from under the quilts and kisses them, front and back. "You feel a whole lot better too."
He suddenly looks back at you with that same pensive stare. "What's wrong?" you say quickly as he starts to frighten you.
"Nothing. Everything's fine. Been thinking about you is all."
It's a little too early for subtlety so you blurt out "What about?"
"Well..." he pauses, unsure of how to put it. He sits on the chair again and looks at his hands. You sit upright so you can face him. "I don't want to keep you a secret no more."
Your heart leaps out of your chest. This is the sexiest thing you've ever heard. "You mean it?"
"Yeah, darlin'. I think we should give that up." He lingers on his hands, almost afraid of your reaction. When he looks up he's surprised by a ravenous kiss from you. Without parting from his lips, you wrap your arms around him and seat on one of his knees. As he realizes what your answer is, he kisses you back with even more vigor.
When you disconnect, you see his eyes sparkle as the first rays of sunshine sneak into the tent. "Is that what you want too?" He'd like verbal confirmation, if you please.
You nod, heart leaping. "Yes! You sweet man!" You both look at each other smiling as he holds you in his arms, realizing you've wanted nothing else but this. You linger for a while as the silent vow you take makes its way from your head into your heart.
"So how are we supposed to tell everyone?" you ponder all of the sudden. "If we're not a secret, how do we tell people we're together?"
"I dunno." He hasn't thought things this far.
"It's not like we can advertise it in the papers!" you joke. "Maybe we tell Karen and let her run her mouth? Or Sean? Both?"
Then Arthur gets a glint in his eye. "Get dressed, will ya?"
Without questioning him, you head to your tent and dress the first thing you can find. It's that skirt and blouse combo Arthur likes so much. You're dressed before he even reaches your tent.
"You trust me?" he asks and your heart races, unaware of his intent. You give him the biggest smile as a yes and he locks your fingers with his. He starts dragging you through camp so fast you can barely keep up. He comes to a sudden stop and you bump into him.
"Sit with me," he says. You both sit down on the same log by the campfire, you're the only ones there. You sit facing each other, gazing at each other's eyes and holding each other's hands. You stay like this for either 30 seconds or 30 minutes before you speak.
"So, is this your plan?" you say smiling stupidly.
"Yeah. I guess so." He smiles stupidly too.
Now you're two stupid fools in love sitting at a campfire holding hands.
You hold your positions while everybody else in camp gets up and prepares for the day. People come and go all around you, some sit down by the fire while they have breakfast. You and Arthur keep holding hands for the entire time, unfazed by the staring, hoping the plan works.
At some point you hear Karen behind you: "Well, what have we here, then?"
___
As much as he is enjoying the plan, and he is enjoying it, Arthur eventually gets up to get you a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. "Eat up. You've got to keep your strength up."
You're thinking it's gonna be a delightful day of him pampering you so it pains you to hear him say he has to ride out to Valentine for the day with John and Charles. Something about some plan, surely one not nearly as brilliant as the one you just pulled.
You remain by the campfire as he gives you his goodbye. "Now you take care of yourself today, ya hear?" He kisses you full on the lips and lingers on them, unperturbed by the onlookers.
Now you're no longer his secret, you're his confession.
Miss Grimshaw relieves you of your chores for the day so you don't strain yourself, her reason being you're still recovering from last night. You're somewhat certain it's because Arthur would give her hell if she didn't let you rest.
Throughout the day, you mostly read and sit around the fire, keeping warm, trying to ignore everyone as they beckon for your attention so they can pry about you and Arthur. You try to play dumb as you reply with "I can't hear you. The storm left me deaf!"
The only person that you talk to is Hosea who approaches you with a book in hand. "Mind if I keep you company, Miss Y/N?"
"Of course not." You'd never deny the man anything, not even your last quarter. You discuss your reading material and exchange book recommendations, you're always excited by his suggestions. After that you read in silence as you've often done in the past.
When he interrupts the silence, he does so in a stern tone. "I'm sorry, my dear. But I've gotta ask this." You bookmark your book and close it. He looks at you in the most serious manner you've ever seen in him. "What are your intentions with Arthur?"
You feel a cold shiver run through you, colder than anything you felt last night. Of all the questions you expected today about your relationship with Arthur, this was not one of them, especially from him. As you try to summon an answer, you feel your mouth go dry.
"I- I- We- Well," You can't think of words. "We- we mean a lot to each other and-"
Hosea interrupts you with the biggest laugh you've ever heard. The camp goes quiet as people stop to hear the racket and your cheeks blush as you realize what this means. "I'm just teasing you, Miss Y/N!" He struggles to catch his breath. "Please forgive me, my dear. Just couldn't resist."
If this was anyone else you would've kicked them by now. But after a bit you start to think it's pretty funny, you probably would have done the same thing.
When he's calm, he reaches out to touch your shoulder. "I sincerely hope it all turns out well, my dear. I wish you the best." He gets up and motions to leave before he stops. "If you care for him as much as he cares for you, I don't think it can ever go wrong. Just be gentle now." He winks you a goodbye.
His words of encouragement leave you thinking about the commitment you made that morning and the man that dared make it with you.
___
It's the middle of the afternoon when you wake up very disoriented from a long nap. You struggle to open your eyes when you see the canvas of a tent that is not yours. It's the picture of Copper to your right that tells you where you are and when you see it you begin to panic.
In your confused state, you bolt upright to put on your boots as fast as possible before anyone can catch you in Arthur's tent. You're already planning an escape route when it finally hits you that you and Arthur are no longer a secret item, the memory of that morning coming back to you. You feel embarrassed with yourself and you slump back into the cot as you call yourself an idiot. As you lay on his pillow, you smell Arthur's scent and you grab it, holding it in your arms as you think of him.
After a moment you sit up again to put on the remaining boot and you spruce up the place a little, removing any signs of your nap. You think it'll be lovely to decorate the tent with some nice flowers so you head out to search for them. It's unfortunate someone catches you on your way out.
"Moving in already, I see." Dutch speaks from the inside of his tent.
"No, just returning something that isn't mine," you try to lie.
"For now."
As you make your way through camp, you hear a horse approaching and for a second you leap at the thought that it's Arthur's. You're completely astonished when you see it's none other than your mare, Rosemary. You almost run to greet her as she approaches her usual hitching post. She strolls in casually, as if she's pretending last night didn't happen.
"Rosemary!" you yell out as she ignores you, reaching for some hay on the ground. "Where have you been, girl?" You can't help but shower her with affection when you reach her. Her black mane and tail are disheveled due to last night's storm, but she seems fine. Her pearly white coat is shiny from the rain. Somehow the saddle is still in place and your bags are still attached. You reach for some carrots and feed them to her as she willingly takes them.
"This your horse, Miss Y/N?" Javier approaches you as he dismounts from his horse, Boaz.
"Yes. I don't know how, but she found her way back to camp! Isn't that some miracle?" You start to brush her as she reaches for more hay.
"She's a fine horse." He pats her gently on her back. "A new boyfriend and a miracle horse. Some people have all the luck!"
You can't help but smile a little at his remark. You're just too happy to have Rosemary back.
You're almost done grooming her when you remember to check your uncle's package that you went pick up at Emerald Station. Luckily for you, the package is small enough to fit in the saddle bag and you find it still wrapped, unharmed by the storm. You wonder what could be so small. "Thank you for getting this to me, girl." You feed another carrot to Rosemary for a job well done.
You unravel the brown wrapping paper to find a small wooden fancy box and a note:
For my favorite niece as she embarks on a new beginning in New Hanover.
May you hang your hat where your heart desires and may you be the happiest there.
I wish you the best.
All my love,
Your Uncle Frederic
You hold the note to your chest for a brief moment as you remember your uncle with the utmost affection. You gently open the box to reveal the most beautiful hatpin you've ever seen.
You smile as the tiny white crystals on its pinhead glisten with the afternoon sun. A small breeze tickles the hairs on your neck. Rosemary neighs for another treat.
____
It's already nighttime when Arthur finally arrives with John and Charles. You head to greet him when you hear John argue with him.
"There's no sense in wasting our time, Arthur! Let's do it quick and get it over with!" You can see they're both flushed by the argument. You used to get that same color when you had a spat with your older sister back in the day.
"I seem to recall that the last time you tried to do something quick, some wolves carved their names on ya." Arthur quiets down the moment he sees you and lets a wide smile escape his lips. You do the same.
John tries to keep the quarrel going but he's met with silence. You hang back a bit before you approach them, letting them dismount and head to camp before you and Arthur can be alone.
"Good luck with this dingbat, Y/N. I don't know what you see in such an ass!" John utters his insults loudly as he walks by you to make sure Arthur hears them. But as far as you're concerned, Arthur's ass is no insult at all.
"Evening." Charles greets you solemnly, clearly exhausted from having to ride alongside the other two.
You look back at Arthur and see his smile hasn't waned from his face. Neither has yours.
He approaches you and before you know it he gives you the most passionate kiss, nearly pinning you down to the ground as he bends you backward. You try to get him to back off as you begin to gasp for air. He eventually subsides.
"What was it that you said? 'Best kisser west of Saint Denis', was it?" he reminds you as you try to catch your breath.
"You saw who came back?" you nod over to Rosemary by the stabled horses.
"Would you look at that! I told ya she's a keeper." He looks down at you again. "Who wouldn't want to come back to ya?"
He looks like he's gonna kiss you again but he suddenly motions his index finger over his lips. And then you hear it. Sean and Karen are approaching you, clearly having something to drink. What's worse is they're talking about you.
"They make a great couple!" Karen blurts it out like she means it.
"I'm just glad the Englishman is finally getting laid! Maybe now he can stop being such a bastard!" Sean is tipsier than her.
Arthur does not wait to hear the rest of the conversation. "Let's get outta here." He leads you to his tent as he grabs your hand. This time he's not hiding you, but shielding you from the horrors of camp. You're especially thankful tonight.
____
When you finally sit down at his cot, he leans back and lets you cuddle around him. He smells the flowers you picked that afternoon before putting them back on the vase.
"So, how did the fellas take the news?" you ask him, inquiring about the execution of your morning plan.
"Well... It turns out... They already knew about us." He sighs.
"Yeah, well, so did the girls it seems."
"Guess we didn't do much of a job hiding it." He chuckles repeatedly.
"I guess not." You mimic him.
You look at each other and before you know it you are both laughing uncontrollably.
"I guess we just love each other too much to hide it." You suggest.
"I guess so." He nods in agreement.
"I haven't shown you what my uncle sent me!" You fiddle with your skirt as you try to find the pocket that holds the box with the hatpin. You open it and show it to Arthur.
"That's beautiful, Y/N!"
You touch the hatpin with your fingertips but don't remove it from the box, scared you'll break it. "My uncle has great taste. Just like mamma." Arthur squeezes your shoulder at the mention of your mother, knowing how much you miss her.
You sit up and place some of your belongings on Arthur's side table. "You think I can leave my things here? I don't want to go back tonight."
"Sure." It takes a moment for him to understand your words. "You ain't going back to your tent then?"
"Not tonight, no." You look forward to waking up and seeing the unfamiliar canvas of his tent again.
"You won't sneak out in the middle of the night either?" he asks with puppy eyes.
"No, not anymore." You lean in for a small kiss. "It's my turn to keep you warm." He reaches for another and holds his position.
You remove Arthur's hat as it gets in the way and you place it on the side table, next to your hatpin and your Uncle's note.
May you hang your hat where your heart desires and may you be the happiest there.
_____________
A/N: So I looked into treatments of hypothermia and turns out you are NOT supposed to take a hot bath after!! It's a big no no! You are suppose to let the person warm up gradually by removing all the wet clothes and using warm towels. But! This is a work of fiction and so I left it in. Getting Arthur wet was too good to leave out.
Skin to skin contact is an acceptable form of treatment though! So getting naked together is very much encouraged!! ;)
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x you#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 fanfiction#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#feedback is welcome as always!
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Okay so more Ghoap x F!Reader. Just a blurb. Also, these will definitely be in whatever order inspiration strikes me first.
You're covered in sweat, tendrils of hair sticking to your face and you swear you swear you can still feel your left side despite the epidural. You've been at this for what feels like days despite it being less than 10 hours.
This wasn't how you imagined the birth of your baby. One partner whose remains had drifted over that beautiful cliffside and the other god knows where who chose to walk away from you. Still, you are grateful for the man holding your hand beside you now.
John Price never imagined he'd be in this situation. Your hand gripping his (quite painfully god your grip is strong), and him wiping away your sweat and tears. He knows he isn't the man who should be here and he knows that he shouldn't have sent Simon to chase a lead so close to your due date even though the man doesn't even know you're pregnant at all.
He watches you flush, tears leaking from your eyes through another round of pushing, and thinks he is quite possibly the biggest bastard on earth for keeping this secret for you.
You're exhausted. Worn out. Dead beat tired. The doctor between your legs encourages you. Only a few more pushes she says and you're almost there. You sob, heaving breaths as more tears stream down your face. Squeezing Price's hand you start to push again, praying that this is the end.
The relief of hearing your baby cry for the first time is overshadowed by the blood rushing through your ears and the wooziness you feel. You can't make out what the doctors are saying.
"What...what are they saying," you slur, tongue feeling heavier than lead in your mouth as you roll your head over to look at Price. "Where's my baby, why can't I see my baby?"
Price tries to reassure you but the room is erupting into chaos around him. The monitors attached to you start to wail.
"BP is dropping."
"She's hemorrhaging."
"We need an OR stat. Page them and tell them we are on the way."
"Sir, we need to move her please go to the waiting room."
The last thing you feel is Price's hand leaving yours before you slip under into a cool abyss.
@thefictionalgemini @ghostslittlegf @oniiloma @astro-ghoul99
#I still dont know what to name this series#no beta we die like men#im sorry if this is bad#im a first time writer#ghoap x reader#ghost x soap x reader#ghost x reader x soap#captain john price is a gift and will support his team always#ghoap x female reader#ghoap x you#constructive feedback is totally welcome#my stuff
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how come no one ever talks about riding vernon's face. i haven't seen anyone write this before please i need it so bad. like think about it!!
he's got such broad, strong shoulders, and i feel like he really is the type to love eating you out. so when it gets steamy on his couch one day, and you feel like trying something new with him, you sit on his face (sorry for being so direct). he's matching your rhythm with his tongue, breath hot and warm, hands groping your ass and helping keep you in place. your pussy is sopping wet for him, and his nose rubs against your clit when you grind on him. he starts with kitten licks, and when you moan for more, rocking your hips against his tongue, he's humming against your folds at the movement and he gives in. he suckles your sensitive area, and you can barely keep it together. running your hands through his hair, guiding him (“right there, just like that sol, fuck—”) because neither of you are particularly used to this new position, but his tongue is still magic and he loves the taste of you. maybe he looks up at your figure, tits bouncing as you move, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, hands pulling at his hair, small gasps leaving your mouth, and he moans against you, sending you over the edge. you cum all over his face. he makes sure to clean up everything he can along your thighs and his mouth. he looks so pretty when he does.
just some thoughts i wanted to let out. happy friday everyone :)
#sigh…..#i think about him all the time….#him being into eating you out is also always on my mind….#chwe vernon#vernon smut#b*#sorry btw! if this is bad. it’s my first time trying this out.#feedback is always welcome and appreciated 🫡#seventeen smut
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Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 14)
Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
- - - - - - - - - -
I stare at my deskmate's hand, dumbfounded. What is he expecting me to do, exactly?
"Well, come on!" Derrick says with a smile. "What are you waiting for?"
"Well, I, um..." I cock my head to the side, as if that would help me have a better understanding of the sight in front of me. "I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do."
"What do you mean?" My deskmate chuckles. "Haven't you ever walked onto someone's hand before?"
I slowly lift my head to peek up at my deskmate, and rub my arm as I shift my gaze back to the balcony floor. He really expects me to have done this?
Derrick frowns. "You haven't, have you?"
I shake my head. "No, I haven't. In fact... you're the only perthean who's ever held me before."
Derrick slowly retracts his hand from the balcony, his brows shifting upward. He blinks.
"What?" I ask.
"I... I don't know, it's just..." my deskmate says, looking down as he twiddles his thumbs. "I'm honored that you'd let me be the first perthean to hold you."
"It's not like I really had a choice, being forced to come to this school and all," I sigh. "You just happened to be the first that I couldn't avoid."
"You were forced to come to this school?" Derrick asks, his eyes widening.
"Yeah," I say with a shrug as Dad's lies about the move come to mind. "It's a long story."
"Well, whether you were forced to interact with me or not," Derrick says, tucking his arms by his sides and clenching his fists excitedly, "I'll do my best to live up to the honor of being the first perthean to hold you!"
I let out a nervous laugh. I didn't realize he'd be so excited to find this out.
"But anyway, once again returning to the matter at hand—my hand, that is," Derrick says.
My heart rate picks up again as Derrick moves his hand back towards the balcony. I don't stumble backwards this time, but I'm surprised that my insides are still churning at the sight of his nearing hand—especially since I was expecting it to approach.
The enormous leathery surface settles down before me, with each of its attached digits curling inward ever so slightly. I approach my deskmate's hand cautiously, as if it were a venus flytrap ready to snatch me up at a moment's notice.
"Now, you said you weren't sure what you were supposed to do?" Derrick asks.
I raise my foot and dangle it over my deskmate's hand, only to nearly lose my balance and stumble back onto the balcony. Do I really not know how to do this?
"I haven't the slightest clue. And besides, isn't this..." I sigh, biting down on my lip and rubbing the back of my neck. "You know, a little too casual?"
"Too casual?" Derrick blinks a few times and raises an eyebrow. "Kaylin, we are friends, right?"
"Of course!" I blurt out, quickly waving my hands. "I didn't mean to say we weren't! It's just that we've only used a formal form of handling etiquette up until this point, and... well..."
"Yes? What is it?"
"I... well... I don't really know how you expect me to get onto your hand. I guess that makes me pretty stupid, huh?" I say, hanging my head.
"You're not stupid. You just need a little guidance, that's all," Derrick says with a smile. "Now, there's something I want you to know. Because we're friends, I don't care how it is you manage to get onto my hand. You can run, crawl, jump, or fall into my hand and I wouldn't mind it in the slightest."
I look up at my deskmate, astounded. I thought any perthean would be particular about how a human gets onto their hand. He really doesn't care how I approach this?
"Generally speaking, though," Derrick says, "when a perthean offers you their hand this way, you're expected to respond like this."
Derrick lifts his other hand and moves it towards me, causing my muscles to immediately tense up. What's he doing now?! Is he going to grab me?!
I quickly back away from his hands until I'm flat against the wall. My heart, beating faster and faster, sinks deep in my chest. As my knees buckle beneath me, I find myself slumping against the wall, it being the only thing left holding me up. Derrick's eyes widen, and he immediately retracts both of his hands.
"Hey," he whispers. "Kaylin, are you—"
I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the balcony floor. I hide my head behind my knees and wrap my arms around my legs. I shut my eyes tightly as they begin to tingle and glaze over, but hot tears manage to leak from them anyway.
"I can't do this, Derrick!" I sniffle. "I can't keep myself from fearing for my life whenever you reach for me! All I think about is...! Is...!"
With my head buried into my knees, my vision is completely black. My mind's eye, however, is painting pictures of the man from my nightmares. A tall, slim figure with a bit of a tan. Slightly muscular. Clean shaven with a small scar on his left cheek. He has dark brown hair and narrowed brown eyes. He wears a white t-shirt with a few dirt stains, and wrapping around his dark blue jeans at the hips is a black belt with a silver chain. Beneath him is a pair of dirty, beaten up white sneakers.
He seemed so unassuming when I first peered at him from the corner of that alleyway. I was so naive! I had no idea what he—no, what pertheans were capable of until—
"Kaylin," Derrick whispers. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I know you're not ready to tell me what started your fear, and I want you to know that's okay with me."
I sniffle again, and with shaking hands, I wipe the tears from my eyes before reluctantly looking up at my deskmate. His blue eyes are soft with compassion, and his brows are upturned in sympathy.
"Since you were forced to come to this school, you didn't get to choose whether or not you wanted to trust me. So now, I want to ask you..." his voice trails off, and he shifts his gaze to the ground. He takes a deep breath in and out before looking back at me. "Will you make the choice now?"
My lip trembles as I sit up in my spot against the wall. "Make... the choice?" I manage, my voice cracking.
Derrick keeps his eyes fixated on me and slowly lifts his left hand towards me. His index finger is bent to the side, as if to initiate balcony etiquette. His hand passes the balcony railing, but doesn't come any closer to me. I stare at it, confused. What's he getting at?
"Kaylin, will you make the choice to trust me?"
My heart rocks against my chest and my legs begin to go numb. "How can I do that when I'm filled with so much fear?" I ask.
"Trust is an action. It's not something you feel, but rather something you choose to do in spite of your feelings." Derrick smiles softly, tilting his head to the side. "Will you trust me?"
I blink, slowly rising to my feet with trembling legs. The breeze picks up, blowing through my hair and giving me goose bumps from the chill. I hug myself tightly, partly because of the cold and partly because of the burning anxiety deep in my core. My pulse quickens, warning me to stay away from this perthean lest I get hurt—yet I find myself, for whatever reason, approaching the hand in front of me.
Derrick remains silent. I look back up at him, his smile still stretched from ear to ear. All at once, his eyes narrow, turning brown, and a scar appears over his left cheek. I slam my eyes shut, quickly sucking in a breath and blowing it out, before opening one eye to peek up at my deskmate. His blue eyes have returned to normal, and there's no scar on his cheek. I look back at his hand, cautiously tiptoeing towards it as my insides convulse and the world around me begins to spin.
Once I'm close enough, I reach a hand out towards my deskmate's index finger, only to pull it back towards myself out of uncertainty. Can I really do this? Can I really trust a perthean?
I place one hand on my deskmate's finger, and then another. I stand in place, breathless and at a loss for words. It takes all the strength I have left to look Derrick in the eyes.
"I will," I manage to say at last.
My deskmate sighs joyfully, and his eyes soften as if smiling themselves.
"Okay," he whispers.
Seeing the glee on Derrick's face gives me the courage to smile back at him. Now that I've made the choice to trust him, I can't help but wonder what comes next.
"Do you want to try walking onto my hand again?" he asks.
I recall the moment Derrick's hand approached me without warning, shivers running down my spine.
"Don't worry," he says. "I'll alert you before I reach for you from now on."
I nod, and Derrick lays his hand down palm side up on the balcony. I bite the inside of my cheek as my legs squirm beneath me, begging me to run away. I made the choice to trust Derrick, I'm not running away!
"Now, I was going to show you how humans are generally expected to react in response to an open palm. May I see your hand?" Derrick asks.
My heart skips a beat. What does he want my hand for? Still shaking where I stand, I gulp, and reluctantly offer up my right hand. I become lightheaded when Derrick takes my hand in between his fingertips. Closing my eyes, I attempt to steady my breathing. I've made my decision. I'm going to trust my deskmate.
Derrick leads me toward his open palm with a gentle tug, and places my hand on his thumb.
"There," he says, letting go of me. "Use my thumb as a support to get onto my hand."
My eyes widen as I gaze at the intricacies of his thumbprint—each curve and crevice forming a uniquely detailed pattern. I spread out my fingers. My hand doesn't even cover a fraction of the print, it's so... little. I stand there in awe, completely mesmerized by the sight in front of me as my cheeks become warmer and warmer.
"Is something wrong?" Derrick asks.
"N-no! Nothing's wrong!" I sputter, embarrassed that I'd been staring at my deskmate's thumbprint for so long.
I press down on Derrick's thumb with nearly all of my strength. It doesn't move an inch. I look toward the palm of his hand, and, using his thumb for support, I manage to lift one leg and plant it on the fleshy surface in front of me. I push off from Derrick's thumb and leap forward into his hand, only to trip on the squishy surface beneath my feet and fall flat on my face!
Derrick gasps. "Are you okay?"
I push against the skin beneath me and manage to get up onto my knees. I nod, my face completely red.
"We'll work on this," my deskmate says, lifting his hand from the balcony and closer to his chest.
"So, um..." I start, my gaze fixed on the palm I'm in. I'm interrupted, however, by a large finger lifting my head until my eyes meet Derrick's.
"Lesson two," Derrick says, "you should always try to look a perthean in the eyes when you speak to them. This makes it easier for us to hear you and perceive your emotions."
"O-oh, okay," I murmur, shivering.
Derrick smiles. "Now, what were you going to say?"
"Oh, I was just about to ask what happens now."
Derrick gazes off into the distance, his brows furrowed in thought. Did he not think he'd get this far?
"I was thinking we could just sit and talk for a while," he says, looking back at me.
"Talk?" I ask. "About what?"
"Anything," Derrick says, moving beside the balcony.
I sway from side to side in my deskmate's hand as he walks. I've gotten more accustomed to this with each passing school day, so I don't have to steady myself as much anymore. But when Derrick lowers himself to sit on the ground, I let out a yelp as the quick motion catches me completely off guard! My insides flip upside down, and I try my hardest to keep from losing my lunch.
"Sorry! Was that too quick?" Derrick asks.
"A little," I squeak, wondering what I've really gotten myself into by agreeing to meet back here with this guy.
"Sorry. I'll try to be more gentle," he says. "So... what do you want to talk about?"
"You're the one who wanted to meet back here in the first place. Shouldn't you be coming up with the ideas?" I ask.
I pick at my nails, keeping my gaze away from Derrick's. Once again, a large finger lifts my head until my eyes are locked with my deskmate's. I can't help but shudder as we glance at each other. Will I ever get used to the weight of his stare?
Derrick smiles reassuringly. "Alright," he says. "Let's talk about you."
My heart skips a beat as blood rushes to my cheeks. "What?! Why me?!" I ask.
"Hey, you said I should be the one coming up with the ideas!" Derrick laughs. "And besides... ever since we became deskmates, I've been curious to learn more about you."
I cross my arms and hang my head low to hide that I'm now blushing even harder. I've always hated talking about myself, it's so embarrassing! I'm not even that interesting!
"Come on," Derrick says, lifting me up to be eye level with him. "Can't you at least tell me a little bit about yourself?"
"I-I—" I stutter, trying to come up with any way to get myself out of this, only to sigh in defeat. "Okay."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Once Derrick and I got to talking, the time flew by. I told him a bit about the move, and he was surprised to hear that Dad and I traveled nearly 900 roams from Maedri to Chancelor. That's about 15,000 miles, which would feel like around 18,000 roams for a perthean. He asked why we would move that far, and I filled him in on how Dad really wanted me to go to his old high school. Thinking through it all again, it really doesn't make much sense. But, then again, neither does my dad.
Derrick told me a little bit about himself, too. He told me he lives with both of his parents, and that he has an identical twin brother who is away for university on Erimathea. I asked why they weren't in the same stage for school if they were the same age, and he mentioned something about his brother being able to graduate early. He seemed a bit uncomfortable with the topic, though, so I didn't push it much.
Before we knew it, we'd been talking behind the school for well over an hour. The funny thing is, the longer I spent in Derrick's hands, the easier it became to talk to him. I found myself trembling less and less over time, and I was able to maintain eye contact for most of our conversation.
"With exposure and with time," I recall Dad saying, "things can get better."
I shake the memory away. Sure, this meet up with Derrick is helping, but it wasn't Dad's idea!
"Uh-oh," Derrick says, glancing at his phone. "It's nearly 5 o'clock."
I let out a gasp as my eyes widen with realization. Dad's going to be expecting me home any minute now! I don't want him wondering where I've been! How in the world would I explain Derrick trying to help me with my fear? I can already see the smile on Dad's face. I can already hear him telling me how he knew sending me to this school would be a good decision. I can't just let him win, can I?
"Do you have somewhere to be?" Derrick asks.
"I... well," I stammer, not sure how to explain my situation. "My dad's going to be expecting me any minute now, and it usually takes me over an hour to walk home from here!"
"Really? Do you live far from here?"
"I think it's a bit far from here," I say, trying to mentally calculate the distance based on how long my walk home usually is. "I live at the human apartment building on Seren Avenue."
Derrick blinks. "Are you serious?"
"W-what?" I ask, a shudder running down my spine.
"That's right around the corner from here! That's not far at all," Derrick chuckles.
"Well, for you it might not be, but—!"
"I know, I know," Derrick says. "It's twenty times the distance for you."
I rub my arm. "I just don't know how I'm going to explain this to my dad," I mutter. "If he finds out we met up because of my fear, or that we hung out at all... I feel like he's going to hold that over my head."
My deskmate hums, leaning back against the wall. "I might have an idea," he says with a smile, lifting me to his eyes.
"Y-you do?" I stutter, still not used to when he holds me close to his face like this.
"Are you ready for your next assignment?" he asks.
"That depends," I say, scooting back a little in his palm. "what is it?"
"Will you let me walk you home?" He asks. "In favor of taking another step towards overcoming your fear?"
"I-I don't know..."
"Come on! What do you have to lose?"
I look into my deskmate's round blue eyes. I can't tell if he's encouraging me or pleading with me at this point, but does my answer even matter? He already knows where I live, so he can take me home whether I want him to or not. I guess it's good that he's asking, but... is this really a good idea? What will people think of a boy walking a girl home? What if the perthean lobby receptionist at the apartment sees us and tries to strike up another conversation? What if she tells Dad a perthean boy walked his daughter home? What will Dad think of Derrick walking me home? Ugh, he'd probably be ecstatic to see me getting along with my deskmate...
I take a deep breath and let it out. "Okay," I say. What could really go wrong?
"Alright!" Derrick says cheerfully, leaning forward to stand up.
"P-please be careful!" I plead in fear of being knocked about.
"I will," he says, being surprisingly gentle as he rises to his feet. "Now, Seren... Seren... that would be this way."
I sway around in my deskmate's hand with each step he takes. I keep my head down to prevent myself from getting nauseous, but I can tell when Derrick rounds a few corners and ends up on the sidewalk beyond the school grounds.
"We're almost there," he says.
"What? We just left!"
"It's that white building, right? About three blocks down?" Derrick asks, pointing to a small building far off in the distance.
I remember seeing pictures of the outside of the apartment online, and I guess it sort of looks like the building my deskmate is pointing to, but I can't really tell from this distance.
"Even if that's the right place, it's still going to take you at least a half hour to get there from here," I assert.
"Watch me," Derrick says.
"You're not going to try running it, are you?!" I exclaim, a sudden panic taking over.
"What? No, of course not! I'm going to take it nice and steady. Just don't be surprised when we get there in about..." my deskmate says, squinting at the white building in the distance. "Five minutes."
"Ha! Right!" I roll my eyes at his ridiculous estimate. There's no way what would take me an hour and a half is going to take him any less than thirty minutes.
As Derrick begins to walk again, I peek up from his hand every once in a while to see how far we are from our destination. To my surprise, we're approaching it much faster than I first anticipated.
I keep to myself for the most part, until something strange lands in Derrick's palm. I blink a few times, uncertain of what it is I'm seeing. It's long, a bit rounded, and a lovely shade of light pink. I reach out and poke it first, to make sure it's not some kind of bug. When it doesn't fly away, I lean over and take it in my hands. It's soft to the touch, though a bit wrinkly. It almost feels like some kind of plant.
"Hey," I say, my focus shifting back to my deskmate. "Do you know what this is?"
Derrick stops for a moment and looks down at the pink object in my hands. He tilts his head to the side, inquisitively.
"I think it's a petal," he says.
"A petal? From what?" I ask, excitedly scanning the ground beneath me for any flowers. To my disappointment, I don't see any.
"From that tree," my deskmate answers, pointing above and behind me to a massive heap of pink blossoms swinging in the wind, connected together by dark, twisting branches to a thick trunk.
My eyes immediately widen when it comes into view. The big blossoms float about in the sky high above us, and little petals rain down all around like snowflakes. This is a sight I've only ever dreamt about or seen in movies before. I never thought I'd get to see something like this for myself! The sky lights in Maedri's undercity always depicted cherry blossoms around spring every year, and I thought that was a sight to behold! But now I'm seeing the real thing? Am I really awake right now?
As Derrick begins to walk again, I try peeking around him to continue looking at the tree. Given his size, however, this proves fruitless. I slump in his palm, saddened that I only got a few moments with such a beautiful part of nature.
Derrick stops again, looking down at my slouching figure. He backs up a bit, and, reaching up to the tree, tears off a tiny section of a branch covered in flowers. He examines it between his fingertips for a moment, and then hands it to me.
My cheeks redden, and I can't help but let a smile creep across my face. Although I quiver at the sight of Derrick's nearing hand, I take the branch.
"For me?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Mhm," Derrick hums. "A souvenir."
My breathing picks up speed with my heart rate. "Th-thanks," I manage.
Now I really can't let Dad find out about all this. What would he think of a boy giving me flowers?! I'd throw them right out if not for how mesmerized I still am by the sight of that tree.
After a few more moments of walking, Derrick stops again.
"The Apartments at Seren," he says.
I look up from the flowers in my lap. "No way!" I exclaim, dumbfounded.
"Well," Derrick says, pointing, "that's what it says on the sign."
Sure enough, the sign reads the name of my apartment building. Derrick reaches for the door to enter the perthean lobby.
"Wait!" I shout, only to bite my lip at the realization that I was a little too loud. "Um... is it okay if you just drop me off outside? There's an undercity entrance on the side of the building."
"Wouldn't it be faster to just drop you off inside?" Derrick asks.
"Well, it's just that... my dad likes to talk to the receptionist in there, and I don't know how he'd react if he saw a guy walking me home. And giving me flowers."
"Oh! Don't worry, I understand," he says. "I'll just set you down right here, then."
Derrick gently lowers himself to the ground, and places the hand I'm in down on the sidewalk. I rise from my place in his palm, wobbling a little at first as I struggle to stand. Bookbag and blossoms secured, I carefully inch toward the edge of my deskmate's hand, one step at a time, and then leap off onto the sidewalk.
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Derrick asks.
"On Firsday," I say.
"Oh, right," he says. "I'll see you on Firsday."
"Alright. Bye!" I say, sheepishly waving as I make my way toward the undercity entrance on the side of the apartment building.
As I'm walking, I have a sudden realization— I completely forgot to thank Derrick! I turn around, only to see him walking away from the apartment building.
"Hey!" I yell, but Derrick doesn't seem to hear me.
I huff. I don't want to seem rude! I run after Derrick, as fast as I can, until I'm right beside him on the ground.
"Hey! Derrick! Wait!" I shout, hoping he'll hear me.
"Huh?" Derrick looks down.
The glass that veiled my fear for only a moment shatters as I stand face to face with a tall, tall perthean. From the ground. My eyes widen. My insides contort into a knot, and the world begins to spin around me. My heart slams against my ribcage and my legs tremble beneath me, again begging me to run away. Just what do I think I'm doing?
"Kaylin? Is everything okay?" Derrick asks.
"I-I— I w... I wanted..." I stutter and stutter, fumbling over every word as I rack my brain for whatever it was I wanted to say.
Derrick must realize I'm struggling, so he kneels down closer to the ground. "Yes?" He asks.
"I-I... I wanted t-to... I wanted to thank you!" I say, crossing my arm over my chest and leaning forward. "For helping me, and walking me home."
"Oh!" Derrick smiles. "Don't mention it."
"O-okay! S-see you on Firsday," I stammer, all at once giving in to my quaking legs' pleas and running as fast as I can away from Derrick and toward the undercity entrance without looking back.
This fear just isn't going to quit, is it?
#too small to be afraid#tstba#perthea#giant/tiny#g/t#g/t writing#sorry this took so long aaaaaaa;;;#something recently blew a hole in my confidence in my writing abilities#so I'm not really confident about this chapter ahaa;;#I'm probably going to rewrite this chapter at some point to make it feel less like they're just standing around not doing anything#because that's kind of the overall vibe I still get :/#also Kaylin's fear feels repetitive in this chapter for some reason and dijashdiksadhfasd maybe I shouldn't post this yet#BUT IT'S BEEN SO LONG URGHHH#anyway#I hope you enjoy#feedback of any kind is always welcome as well since it helps me improve :3
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dear chase- oh shit, there's stickers
#i have covid and i'm procrastinating uni work so have this!#i started it yesterday and i'm kinda proud of it!#don't look at mac for too long#his legs are so skinny but i noticed it too late to fix it so just close your eyes#art feedback appreciated and welcome!#iasip#iasip fanart#it's always sunny in philadephia#sunnyblr#the world series defense#mac mcdonald#dee reynolds#dennis reynolds#charlie kelly#godduh art#godduh speaks
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Creator Community Good Faith Practices
Here at the Creator’s Cave, our mission is to create a ‘safe space’ for people to learn how to create new content and mods for The Sims 3, and share their knowledge of how to create new content and mods for the Sims 3.
Frequently, new custom content (CC) is generated by making edits to existing CC. As part of the above mission, we feel it is required of us to encourage ‘Good Faith’ practices, and to discourage ‘Bad Faith’ practices when utilizing content from other creators in your CC or mods.
We've made a list of ‘Good Faith’ and ‘Bad Faith’, and ‘Grey Area’ practices to serve as guidelines for both existing and aspiring creators.
We asked those in the discord to help distill and tweak it, and will continue to make alterations based on feedback from the creator community. These guidelines are primarily enforced by the community itself, and other creators may decline to provide assistance to someone who is using ‘Bad Faith’ practices.
Here’s a link to the doc for any interested: TS3 Creator Good Faith Practices
#ts3 creators cave#creator community best practices#how to get along with your fellow modders#feedback is always welcome#if anyone wants to translate this into another language please feel free#I also don't mind if people copy/paste portions of it for use in other communities
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Bouquet Full of Loathing [ Elucien ]
Inspired by: this and the Flower Shop Modern AU - Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?” | Originally posted on my previous blog on 10.01.2017.
Pairing: Lucien x Elain
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Rating: SFW
Recommended listen: McFly - Love is Easy
Author’s note: This was my first ever acotar fic and will always hold a special place in my heart!
*slam*
“How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you to someone in flower?”
Lucien was furious. He was fuming. He was positive that if was possible, he’d actually be on fire. It was too fucken early for him to be going back and forth with his coworker but that bitch loved to undermine him and continuously make his life hell at work.
Due to his outburst after their latest argument, his manager, who also happened to be that demon’s manager, was forcing him to make amends by buying her a nice bouquet of flowers to say he was sorry. Which he wasn’t. Not even in the slightest. But oh, she was going to get that bouquet of flowers.
The Fawn’s Greenhouse was only a few blocks away and taking a walk gave him a way to release some of his anger. But what he didn’t expect was to find a beautiful young woman behind the counter, staring at him like he was crazy. Then again, who walks into a flower shop and demands those kinds of flowers?
His eyes went to the nametag on the front of her dress and he felt his face go red.
Elain. Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl.
Elain, on the other hand, was slightly taken aback.
She loved her flowers. She loved any flowers.
She loved growing things in her garden and every single part of the process mattered to her; planting the seeds, watering them, monitoring their growth, and finally when they blossomed. Her flowers were her babies.
When Feyre and Nesta offered to pitch in and help her open her own flower shop, she was over the moon. Her own savings had fallen a little short and she was thrilled to have the support from her sisters. The Fawn’s Greenhouse was only a few blocks away from where Nesta worked as an editor at a literary agency and a few extra blocks from where Feyre taught Art at the local community college.
It was a great way for the three of them to meet for lunch or dinner quite often, as they would be tonight.
But to Elain, flowers meant many good things: happiness, gratefulness, new beginnings, apologies, and forgiveness. So when this strange angry red-headed man stormed into her shop and slammed money on the counter, growling at her, she was very taken aback at his request.
Elain finally blinked rapidly then chuckled. “Well, hello.” she said and leaned against the counter. “There are a few different ways to do that, Mr…?”
All the anger that Lucien had walked in with completely vanished and was replaced with awe as he took in her features. Gods, she was gorgeous.
Elain tilted her head to the side and Lucien almost combusted as she gave him an encouraging smile and he cleared his throat.
“Lucien.” he mumbled, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, the color on his cheeks matching his hair. “My name is Lucien.”
“Welcome to my flower shop, Mr. Lucien.” she replied automatically and gave him an even wider smile. “I see someone’s ruffled your feathers this morning.”
Lucien snorted, causing Elain to giggle. “Ruffled my feathers. More like plucked all my feathers to death that psychotic bit —” he cut himself off as Elain gave him an amused look. “I’m sorry. Let me start over.”
Elain watched, trying to hold back a laugh as Lucien took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He smiled at her and she smiled back.
“Hello.”
“Yes, hello.”
“You have a very lovely flower shop.”
“Thank you! I’ve worked very hard on it.”
“You are also very lovely as well.”
“You aren’t so bad yourself.”
“You could tell me I looked like a piece of filth and I would honestly take it as the highest of compliments.”
Elain burst out laughing at that and Lucien grinned. Score for him.
“Well, that wouldn’t be very nice to say to anyone.” Elain replied, shaking her head with another chuckle. “Besides, it wouldn’t be true. You’re quite lovely yourself.”
Lucien leaned against the counter, the gap between them growing smaller. “I have never felt so lovely in my entire life.” he said, and with an exaggerated flick of his wrist, tossed his hair over his shoulder.
Elain laughed again and Lucien realized he’d only been in the shop for five minutes but he’d sell his soul to hear that sound over and over again.
“You have quite the humor, Mr. Lucien.”
“Lucien. Just...Lucien.” he corrected her gently with a smile. “Mister sounds too formal and I’d prefer to be on casual terms with the person that’s going to give me my special request flowers.”
“Your ‘fuck you’ flowers?” she asked with a grin and he had the audacity to give a nonchalant shrug.
“The person deserves them, I can assure you.” he replied and sighed. “It’s my coworker. She makes my life a living hell at work. We had a fight and my manager is forcing me to get flowers as an apology. This is me trying to be nice.”
“By sending her ‘fuck you’ flowers?” Elain asked again, her lips twitching. She wondered about this so called ‘horrible coworker’.
“Keyword here, is trying.” he said with a grin and Elain laughed. “Not all of us can be as nice as you, Elain.”
Elain’s cheeks flushed. She liked the way he said her name a lot more than she’d care to admit.
“And how do you know I’m nice?” she countered, leaning off the counter and crossing her arms across her chest with a smile. “You’ve only just met me.”
“Your name is Elain, you’re beautiful, and you own a flower shop. You could literally stab a man in front of me and I would just say he had it coming.” Lucien promptly replied. He sounded insane, he was well aware, but instinct told him he wasn’t wrong. “Also, you smell really nice.”
Elain rolled her eyes and wanted to curse herself for the blush on her cheeks and the smile that was way too wide. “Are you always this shameless of a flirt, Lucien?”
He straightened up as Elain pulled out a book from under the counter and placed it in front of him, flipping through the pages. “Only with pretty girls who own flowershops named Elain.” he said and gave her a charming smile when she paused her flipping to look at him.
She shook her head and chuckled lightly. He was shameless. Very handsome but oh so shameless. “So,” she started, going back to flipping through her flower book for the right ones to fit his order, pointing as she explained. “We have a few options for your amusing choice in the bouquet. There are Geraniums — Horseshoe Geranium which specifically means stupidity and Foxglove flowers which can mean insincerity. There’s also Meadowsweet flowers which mean uselessness, Yellow Carnations that indicate you’re disappointed in a person and last but not least, Orange Lilies which symbolize hatred.”
Elain finally looked up at Lucien, whose grin had gotten wider and wider with each flower that she rattled off and she laughed at his expression. “I take it all these options sound good?” she questioned with a raised brow.
Lucien’s grin was wicked. “Oh, these sound fantastic. Can I have a mix of them all in a bouquet? Please?”
Elain rolled her eyes and chuckled. “As you wish, good sir.” she said then pursed her lips as she started writing down his order. “Is there a note you’d like me to add with the bouquet?”
His eyes lingered on her pursed lips long enough that Elain had to look up confused at his silence and a blush crept on both their faces.
“Sorry.” he said with a sheepish grin and Elain bit her lip, holding back a smile as she continued filling out the order. A moment passed in silence before she responded.
“I don’t mind.” she said softly.
“Good. Because there’s a lot to admire.” Lucien responded, leaning back on the counter, closer to her.
“I’m sure getting spoiled with compliments today.” she said, giving him a playful smile and he grinned in return.
“They’re all well-deserved compliments. I meant them all.”
“Oh, I know. It’s why I haven’t kicked you out yet.” she said as she moved around her counter, grabbing a note card for him to write on and a pen as he laughed. “For your note. The bouquet shouldn’t take too long...I’m caught up on all my early orders. Would you like to wait or should I have them delivered?”
She tilted her head, waiting for his answer and the smile she gave him told him their thoughts were on the same wavelength.
She wanted him to wait.
And wait he would. He’d wait an eternity for those fucken flowers as long as she kept talking to him. Lucien had shamelessly told her this, realizing too late that he was babbling his thoughts aloud.
Elain’s laughter was enough to ease his embarrassment and the two continued chatting as she moved about, putting the bouquet together. Lucien watched her, appreciating the way she moved and talked and the way she laughed at his jokes. Elain’s cheeks were stained red as they talked, trying to contain how much she was enjoying the attention he was giving her, and how invested he was in everything she was saying and doing. Their conversation was comfortable and flowed so naturally that both of them were slightly disappointed in how quickly she finished.
Giving him a shy smile, she gently placed the finished bouquet in all it’s glory in front of him. “Here it is!” she said cheerfully. “Your requested bouquet. Beautiful and full of loathing.”
Lucien grinned, eyeing her work approvingly. “It looks stunning.” he replied and Elain smiled widely, pleased. “Just like the lovely lady who put it together.”
Elain giggled as he reached out, taking her hand and kissed it. “You’re too much.” she mumbled and Lucien chuckled.
“I can’t help it. Something about you…” he said quietly and the two locked eyes.
“Something about you too.” she agreed and Lucien smiled. He paid her and balanced the bouquet in his hands. His eyes flickered between the bouquet and the beautiful girl who had made it and he quickly licked his lips.
“Would...would you like to go out to dinner sometime?” he asked and relief filled his whole body as she beamed at him.
“I would love to.”
“Great! Friday night?”
“I’ll be ready at 6:30.”
“Perfect.”
Elain smiled at him then grabbed one of her notecards and quickly jot down her number. “I expect more shameless flirting till then.” she said softly, curling a strand of hair behind her ear.
“And I will be more than happy to oblige.” He replied, giving her a wink and Elain giggled.
“I’ll see you Friday then.”
“I’ll be flirting with you sooner than that though.” he replied and she winked at him in return, a blush erupting on both their cheeks.
“I look forward to it.”
“Gods, you’re so fucken cute.” Lucien mumbled and Elain laughed, dipping her head shyly. “I have to leave before this kills me.”
She covered her burning face, grinning widely as she then waved him off. “Go back to work before you get fired.”
“Worth it.” he said, using his free hand to make a finger gun and she snorted softly as he waved then finally left the shop.
Elain bit her lip, smiling to herself. In one way or another, her flowers were always bringing her joy.
~
Elain rushed into the restaurant where she had agreed to meet her sisters earlier that day. She was very excited to tell them about her encounter with Lucien. He had kept his word about the shameless flirting and had her phone buzzing all day; she still couldn’t believe how it happened.
Her pace slowed down when she saw Feyre and Nesta, both seated at their usual table, secluded in a quiet corner of their favorite place. It wasn’t until she was close enough to hear their conversation that she froze completely. On the chair next to Nesta was her sister's bag and a bouquet of flowers that was strangely familiar.
Too familiar.
“And then this asshole hands it to me with a note that says ‘I’m sorry’ in quotation marks like the sarcastic little shit he is.” Nesta snarled and Feyre started laughing. “And then adds that I should look up the meaning of each flower to really appreciate his apology. I’m going to ask Elain what they mean.”
“You are really mean to him, Nes. I’m sure he’s not as horrible as you make him sound.”
“He’s a piece of shit. It brings me joy to make him miserable.” Nesta said with a snort and then noticed Elain. “Elain! You’re finally here. Come on, we’re starving.”
Elain approached the table and sat down slowly, smiling nervously. Oh boy.
“...Nice flowers, Nesta.”
“Thanks.” Nesta replied with a wave of her hand and then picked them up to show Elain. “I got them from a shithead at work as an apology. What do the flowers mean?”
Elain groaned internally. It was indeed her own bouquet full of loathing. She bit her lip. “The guy who gave them to you...his name is Lucien, right?”
Nesta froze and Feyre looked at her curiously. “Yes.” she hissed. Quickly grabbing the note card again, Nesta looked it over. “How did I not notice that he got them from your shop!? That bastard! Did he bother you?!”
“No! He was very sweet.” Elain replied quickly, blushing. “Actually...he asked me out on a date and I said yes. We’ve been texting all day.”
Silence fell on the table before Feyre burst out laughing and Nesta snarled, “What?!”
“It’s later this week. I’m...looking forward to it.”
“Like hell you’re going!” Nesta hissed. “With that idiot! That good for nothing garbage can —”
Elain cut her off with a look. “Nesta.”
Feyre’s laughter had finally subsided and she wiped at her eyes. “Nes...you should be excited for her. She likes him!”
Elain narrowed her eyes at Nesta’s face that was filled with rage, daring her to argue. Feyre looked between the two, her lips twitching.
“So what’s he actually like, then?” Feyre quickly asked. “We know Nesta hates him and makes his life living hell at work.”
Elain gave Nesta one more look before her eyes flickered to Feyre’s face and she gave her a small smile. “He’s actually really nice and funny. I —”
“He has a glass eye and a scar across his face!” Nesta’s growl interrupting her.
“So?!” Elain automatically replied, pouting. “He got it in an accident! It makes him a strong person!”
“He has a glass eye!”
“It makes no difference to me! I like his personality!”
“He’s an asshole, Elain!”
“You think Cassian’s an asshole too and you’re living with him!” Elain hissed back. “Your judgement isn’t exactly perfect!”
“Well, she gets dicked down by Cassian so I mean…” Feyre interjected with a shrug and Nesta glared at her, her cheeks burning.
“That is irrelevant.”
“Is it, Nes? Is it really?” Feyre asked with a raised brow.
The table fell silent again as Nesta and Elain glared at each other and Feyre tried her best not to laugh. It was only when her phone beeped that Elain torn her eyes away from the vicious staring contest with her sister.
Text from: Lucien
How’s dinner going with your sisters? Hopefully, I’m not interrupting anything.
Elain’s eyes looked back up at her sisters and her blush gave away who she was talking to, causing Nesta to glare even harder and Feyre to grin widely.
Text from: Elain
No, not at all! I was just telling them about you…funny enough, one of my sisters knows you.
Text from: Lucien
Really? What a small world! Which sister is that?
Elain hesitated before she sent the next message.
Text from: Elain
The coworker you bought the bouquet full of loathing for. She goes by the name Nesta…though you might refer to her very differently.
Elain bit her lip, frowning after she sent the message. She flipped her phone over and then looked at her sisters.
“Now he knows we’re sisters.” Elain grumbled as Feyre rattled off their usual orders to the waiter.
“Good. If he’s smart, he’ll back off.” Nesta growled and Feyre shoved her gently.
“You back off. Let her live.”
“I don’t like him.”
“There’s a surprise.”
Elain’s reply didn’t make it to her mouth when her phone started ringing. Flipping it over, she blinked in surprise at Lucien’s name popping up. She immediately picked up.
“Hello?”
“I’m so sorry for interrupting you at dinner but I realize how awkward this position is for you right now.” he said, hoping he sounded as apologetic as he felt.
Elain chuckled, a small smile on her face. “Are you calling to tell me our date is canceled now?”
“No.” he replied and Elain’s smile grew wider at how horrified he sounded at the idea. He cleared his throat. “I actually wanted to apologize for saying those things about your sister earlier and I promise that I’ll behave and keep work and personal life separate so that you don’t have to feel weird because your sister and I hate each other. Professionally speaking.”
Elain laughed softly. “Just professionally?”
“...Please don’t make this more difficult for me.” he whined softly on the phone. “It’s bad enough I bought her a bouquet full of loathing from her own sister’s shop.”
“Plot twist, isn’t it?”
It was Lucien’s turn to laugh. “Yes, it is. Does she know what the flowers mean?”
Elain grinned. “Not yet.”
“Let’s keep it that way, please.”
“Fair enough.”
“Really, Elain? You’re letting that walking pile of trash interrupt our dinner like this?” Nesta said, making sure she was loud enough to be heard on the other end of the line.
Elain gave Nesta a reproachful look as Feyre shoved her again. “Behave.”
“Fine...but let me talk to him. He is my coworker after all.” Nesta said, her tone calm. She held out her hand.
Elain looked at her suspiciously but Nesta just wiggled her fingers. Her mouth went into a thin and she sighed. “Lucien, Nesta wants to talk to you.”
“More plot twists.” he said, chuckling.
“You don’t have to.” Elain automatically said but both Lucien and Nesta responded at the same time.
“Yes, he does.
“Yes, I do.”
Elain groaned and then held the phone to her chest. “Nesta...please be polite.”
“No guarantees.”
Squinting at her older sister, she finally handed her the phone with a sigh, pressing on the speaker so they could all hear.
“Hello cockroach.” Nesta greeted him and Elain facepalmed as Feyre snorted.
“Hello demon.”
“Of all the people you decided to hit on, you had to choose my sister?”
“I respectfully asked her out on a date. She’s a grown woman. I don’t really think it’s your business.”
“It isn’t.” Elain added and Nesta squinted at her.
“I’m going to be watching your every move and I swear to god if you so much as lay a finger on my sister, I will crush you with my bare hands.” Nesta threatened in one breath. “That is a promise you filthy little vermin —”
Elain snatched the phone from her hand as Feyre cut her off. “Nesta!”
“Jesus christ, Nesta. I’m not going to hurt Elain!” Lucien hissed on the phone.
“What if I want him to touch me?” Elain snapped, knowing it would silence both her sisters and Lucien. “Hm? What if I — what’s the phrase you used about Cassian and Nesta, Feyre? What if I want to get dicked down by Lucien? Would that be such a big deal?”
Lucien made a sound on the phone that sounded like he was choking as Nesta gasped loudly.
“Elain!”
Taking her phone off speaker, she put it back to her ear and spoke softly, “Lucien, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”
“Yup. Sounds good.” he responded, truly sounding like the air was being choked out of him and Elain's face turned red.
Closing the call, she eyed her sister and held up a hand as Nesta was ready to launch into a speech. “Listen. I know you’re my older sister and you worry about me because I love flowers and seem like a giant idiot who gets easily fooled —”
“That’s never how I think of you, Elain — “ Nesta quickly interjected, her face falling.
“And I know you’re worried about me because the breakup with Graysen was really bad and I was very hurt,” Elain continued, halting Nesta again as her voice shook. “But I am okay. I am fine. And I’m ready to try something new. So please….please be nice to Lucien. I want to see where this goes.”
Nesta fell silent and Feyre gently leaned over to pat Elain’s hand with a small smile.
“We know, Elain. We love you and support you in whatever decision you want to make.” Feyre said softly. “I look forward to getting to know him.”
“...I’m sorry.” Nesta added and reached out to place her hand on Elain’s other hand. “I’ll behave...Try to be nicer to him.”
“Thank you.” Elain said, a relieved smile on her face until Nesta clenched her hand tightly with death in her eyes.
“But if I ever heard the term dicked down and Lucien in the same sentence again, I will kill someone.”
Silence fell on the table once more as Elain closed her eyes, internally groaning at how she was going to have to address that with Lucien when she got home.
It wasn’t until the waiter served their dinner and walked away that Feyre finally broke the silence.
“But what if she does want to get dicked down by Lucien? Elain sounded very enthusiastic.”
“Feyre!” Nesta hissed as the youngest sister broke down in giggles.
Elain groaned audibly now, her face in her hands knowing Feyre was never going to let this go.
“I’m just saying, go Elain, if she does. Nesta said he was a redhead, do you think the carpet matches the drapes?”
“Feyre — I swear to all the Gods I will stab you with this fork if you don’t stop.”
“Elain, you’ll be sure to share details, right? I want Nesta to know every detail of when you and Lucien finally get down to business.”
“Feyre —”
“Ohhhh what if Elain visits him at work and you walk in on her getting dicked down by Lucien in his office? On his desk?”
Feyre squeaked as Nesta assaulted her in some form or another. Elain had given up, sighing deeply, her face burning.
Who knew a bouquet of flowers would cause so much trouble?
#elucien#elucien fanfic#elucien fanfiction#elain archeron#lucien vanserra#gfics#acotar fanfiction#acotar#Going to slowly start posting them without bombarding the tag lol#feedback is always welcome :)#fic: bouquet full of loathing#bouquet full of feelings series
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Reposting Elmwood on AO3 with some edits. Hopefully it's better =D.
I will try to post once a week, but I am a HUGE procrastinator!
This is, of course, YOORAN! Fantasy with elves, a lich, magic, and D&D flavor!
Oof, I need to redraw these, LOL!
#Mystic Messenger#Yooran#Yoosung Kim#Saeran Choi#SaeranXYoosung#Saeyoung Choi#Jumin Han#Jaehee Kang#Zen#JaeheeXZen#V#Rika#Vanderwood#Fantasy#D&D quest LOL#I hope new and old fans will enjoy this#Feedback is always welcome#And so is interaction!!
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So… don’t be mad. But I’ve just whipped up a full outline for a short From the Fog fic between Herobrine and my sona (with big inspo from the Minecraft world I’m currently playing in with him!). It’s only 11 chapters long, and I plan on working on it between drafting The Dez Illusion. God, it’ll feel so nice to get another fic out after so long.
I feel slightly guilty that it isn’t related to TES or my other Minecraft fic series, but man something about this mod just captured my heart. I was super into Minecraft and ESPECIALLY Herobrine back in the day, and this mod does such a good job portraying him. I’m fully committed.
I’ll be sure to add little refs for how my strange sona appears, and probably a little map too to keep things cohesive! I’ll also be posting on AO3 while promoting little snippets here. Still not 100% on a title name, but I’lll prob just keep it simple.
All that said: keep an eye out for the fic, if you’re interested!
#writing woes#from the fog#Minecraft#mineblr#text post#from the flames#<- current title choice … feedback always welcome lol#also this fic will prob count as like. platonic romance? deeper than a bromance but no actual romance yk#keep it nice
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let me shake your hand, my friend
a johnarthur malevolent playlist
#IM. very proud of this playlist#feedback is always welcome and appreciated !!!#pls let me know if u like it or if u have any recommendations or. u know! I love to hear commentary#ENJOY <3#malevolent#malevolent podcast#john doe#arthur lester#arthur malevolent#john malevolent#the king in yellow#privateeyes#johnarthur#Spotify
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youtube
a week of 'boys don't cry' stuck in my head and good omens brainrot turned into this - enjoy >:)
#good omens#good omens edit#crowley#anthony j crowley#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#david tennant#boys don't cry#the cure#good omens tv#robin edits B)#my edit#feedback welcome as always :D#Youtube
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youtube
Oh hey! It's another video! This one is my file called The Space Between - it's mostly just an induction that focuses on blankness and emptiness. No suggestions other than feeling good when it's done.
You can find the original post when I released it here! (A *lot* of y'all weren't on here when I put this one out!)
#hypnosis#noises from my mouth#Tennfan classic#that's what we'll call my pre-mic era anyway#feedback is always welcome#Youtube
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Opened a Ko-fi and I’m now taking commissions! Check it outttt
#commissions#really nervous about this ngl#feedback is always welcome#like are the options good? the prices?#it's been forever since i've tried this
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I've started a couple of polls regarding future fics. I have specified in each post that if you would like to give me in depth opinions and comments, my ask box is open (and anons are on) and so are my private messages. I am always willing to listen to your ideas, comments, feedback and opinions. :)
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Tell me what you want me to say
#trigun#trigun stampede#I TRIED SOMETHING OK#i think it works but feedback is always welcome#THIS IS THAT ONE FANARTS FAULT IT JUST STAYED WITH ME#Youtube
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Bit of a different kind of issue this time. After the strong upset from the last issue, we're shaking up the format and follow Ash instead of River as we arrive at the halfway point of the entire story. (It also includes a new character sketch!)
It's the last issue I'll likely be posting for a while. I actually have issues 16-18 written now, but I want to sit on them and get more written before I resume regular posting. I aim to get one new issue written per month from here on out, so hopefully I will be able to return with a one-a-month posting schedule in a matter of weeks.
Please let me know what you think! Of this unique issue, and of the first half of the story as a whole. Is there anything you wish there had been more or less of? Is there anything in particular you're hoping for or expecting in the second half of the story? I'd love to know!
(First Issue, Previous Issue, Next Issue)
#River & Ash#comic script#comic writing#supernatural romance#slow burn#having a cool-off sorry#original fiction#demon character#feedback always welcome
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