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schtroumpf-a-lunettes · 6 months

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@schtroumpfalunettes was there something specific that prompted you to make this?? XD I got notified/tagged in the post haha.

Like did someone mix us up again or something? :P the irony that I had this username first LOL

"Usually make sense" shdsjhdshjsdh

More discussion under readmore; I decided to make this post a jumping-off point to talk about a few things. XD (It got long. as usual :P)

RE: some of the stuff here, something interesting that I find worthwhile to bring up - and which I've been thinking about - is...

Okay, so for example, there was this one post by someone from a while back where he kinda said something like "what I don't think a lot of people realise about fandom is that you can just have fun with it and do whatever you want, there are no rules, you don't have to stick to what's 'canon' or whatever" (this is all paraphrased from memory) and I found it really fascinating because like, yes, absolutely anyone can, and is free to do that if they want to! At the end of the day, fandom is about having fun, being a Fan, enjoying yourself, etc etc

but what I found specifically intriguing about the phrasing is that it seemed to imply that everyone would want to do this, if only they knew they had "permission" to do it (and I could be entirely wrong on that front, but that was my personal takeaway/impression regarding that post's underlying implications). And as someone who is, as this chart itself states, is "known for actually sticking to canon facts", I could only read that post in bewilderment thinking "well, yes, I am fully aware I have the freedom to do that if I want to... it's just not really what I'm here for. It's not what I want for me and my personal fandom experience; it's not particularly fun for me in the same way that focusing on what is and isn't "canon" is fun for me. Pedantry about canon is my area of fun (lol)."

It comes back to that whole thing about curative vs transformative fandom - both types are completely valid ways of engagement; the point is to have fun, and different things/types of focus is gonna be fun for different people; me trending towards curative fandom doesn't make other people's transformative fandom any less valid and worthwhile, and so on and so forth. (And like, I do engage in transformative fandom too, of course. I write fics, sometimes I do play around with the more transformative side of things, etc etc, it all depends on what's fun at a given time in a given fandom space, and so on and so forth, haha).

The way that my own focus might differ from other people has caused me to run into difficulty sometimes - especially when I find it hard to distinguish what type of fandom a person is engaging in (transformative or curative), or rather, what they are asserting - ("this is my personal 'twist' on canon" vs "I am making an objective assertion about the nature of canon itself".)

Of course, different competing interpretations of canon can and do exist, that can honestly be half the fun of it. Discussion, analysis, debate, these things can be very fun and interesting for me. It can just be really tough for me sometimes when someone goes "X about canon is the case" and I can't tell if they're saying "this is an Objective Assertion about canon which can therefore be debated back and forth, with different viewpoints that are able to be brought up and exchanged" or "I know this isn't canon, but I'm simply choosing to put my own personal spin on what's there."

Because I'm always down to discuss and debate about canon (like, it's fun and interesting for me! And you can learn new things or new perspectives by such forms of engagement) but I also don't want to come across as like, rude, or ruin other people's fun, because that's not my intent (fun is the point of fandom after all; it's a hobby). So like, I'm not going to go around shooting down anyone's harmless transformative fandom or whatever because that would be completely inappropriate; they're operating in a different sphere in their fandom approach.

I think the trouble comes in where an "objective" assertion does seem to be taking place, and I get confused, because it can still be pretty ambiguous for me, so it's like, am I even "allowed" to point out that this "doesn't seem to be true, per the rules of Canon" (i.e. a curative-fandom based discussion back and forth, where both parties can consider perspectives they may not have been aware of before, purely based off the rules of what we can see in canon), or are people just going to get hurt/offended/insulted if I try to do that?? (i.e. do they already Know it isn't canon?? do they not care either way, because they're engaging in transformative stuff??)

The way I see curative fandom is that it's entirely based on one's ability to argue their case using canon facts and context and what have you - it's about the persuasive nature of one's argument. But at the end of the day, nobody is an "authority" because it runs off the principle that canon is the only authority, and (if you're in curative fandom space) it's all about how closely you can adhere/align to the authority of the source text. Nobody has a monopoly over, or the ability to dictate, what canon is or should be - that's the beauty of it. Canon still remains independent, standing separate all on its own, regardless of how individuals interpret or perceive it.

Transformative fandom, in turn, can be rather possessive - which, again, can be fine, fandom is about fun, people are having fun, etc etc. But here's where my confusion re-enters the stage - I totally get the possessive side of things but sometimes the "grey area" seems to enter into the scene once more - and I can't tell if someone is engaging in transformative fandom in a lighthearted possessive way, OR if they really are making an assertion of authority (which, by definition, would be an act of invalidation of others, which one would think would kind of go against the spirit of fandom being a place for everyone to have fun and enjoy themselves).

I guess personally I can be rather "sensitive" to assertions of authority (or seeming assertions of objectivity that seems to contradict canon) if they appear to be serious, made in the realm of Curative Fandom, and wielded in a manner that would invalidate others, as opposed to something lighthearted and free-to-debate (because again, debate is fun for me).

And I guess that's not really "normal" of me(?), just like this lengthy reply of my thoughts likely isn't very "normal" by neurotypical standards hahaha, but this is just some stuff I've been mulling over and I wanted to put it out there - I have identified these areas that I can struggle over the ambiguity of sometimes, and I guess I saw this as an opportunity to try and write down my thoughts. And I honestly and earnestly trust that you would understand the seeming lack of neurotypical-ness of it all, too. Because, obsessive little fan that I am, I am very passionate and invested when it comes to this stuff. I am passionate and invested when it comes to canon.

One result of my approach to fandom that I've found in turn is that I can really tend to seem/be rather contrarian - that's because I like to examine new angles of things, so if something becomes really prominent/accepted in fanon, I'm often not really invested in upholding it - I love to ask "and what other possibilities are there?" because Canon, to me, is a fountain of possibilities, of sorts. I like to have fun exploring, because to settle on only one thing can feel unnecessarily limiting, but refusing to go along with a consensus may be liable to just get me interpreted as a fun-killer (and I've tried going along with (lighthearted) consensus before - and I regret it. Not only because it didn't align with my own prior perspective, but I found that by upholding a consensus, it seemed to render invisible other people's viewpoints, and I ultimately didn't want to contribute to that).

I can come across a bit forceful sometimes, and when that happens I find it's because I don't necessarily feel like my perspective is being adequately considered or understood. Plenty of this is On Me, it's just good for me to be aware of and be able to navigate this stuff, I guess. Fandom should be a playground that everyone can take part in.

Part of this was prompted by the "canon doesn't DISPROVE this" point on your chart(?) thing, because I think stuff that can fall under that category is a very wide spectrum, and thus can contribute to a lot of the confusion and sense of ambiguity I've discussed here. i.e. I don't necessarily know what you mean by that, hahaha. Is it about transformative fandom? Curative fandom? Both? Could be anything and everything in-between - and maybe that ambiguity is openly embraced/accepted and intentional on your end, and I'm just someone with an excessive need for clarity (just part of who I am, aha).

Anyway, I know we've touched on some of this stuff before in our previous interactions too. But yeah, I really do see a huge difference between "I am making an authoritative and objective claim" and "I know this is not canon, but I am engaging in transformative fandom" etc etc, and sometimes I cannot tell which of those is the underlying implication, and that can really hinder my understanding and communication. (Those two types itself is an oversimplification, as there can be soo many different shades - you can see that in, say, those tumblr posts of "different types of headcanon" and it lists like 5+ different types and whatnot.)

Sooorry for long post <3. I hope you don't mind! I'm just so rambly, you know, with that urge to elaborate, etc etc!

#long post

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

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thinking about luke who’s always found home within the people around him, and how even when he was on good terms with his parents home was never a place it was wherever his family was.

thinking about julie who’s always thought of home as a place, and it’s where she grew up and where her mum taught her to play piano, and carlos lost a tooth on the porch and where her dad would spin them around the kitchen to the radio.

and how after rose died home suddenly didn’t feel quite to comforting anymore, because something was missing. and then she met luke and the boys and how luke shows her that home doesn’t have to be a place, it can be people and it doesn’t have to just be one person, it can be multiple. and she’s ready to make a home with him.

#is there any real correlation between these paragraphs? not really but!!!! i've been thinking about the characters and homes #and how they've all got different views on it? because they've all had such drastically different home lives. and how all the boys probably #watch julie with ray and carlos and how she is at home and sort of realise 'oh. thats what we were supposed to get' but not in an envious #or a jealous way? because the boys don't really do jealous over someone having a better home life/relationship with their parents. they just #feel a little let down. but anyway just. julie and luke talking about home and how he misses his home in a way #but he misses his parents more? and julie thinks she gets it. but she doesn't at first because to julie home has always been a place #and then it's not until much later when she's having A Bad Day and missing her mum a lot that she /gets it/. because her home is still home #but it's not really Home anymore because her mum will never walk through the front door again. she'll never sing in the kitchen. never smile #at one of her dads dumb jokes again. but it's not a bad thing that home isn't Home like it was #that's what she learns from luke. that a home can be anywhere but it's the people that give it a capital H #(i am reading these tags back and i realise i've jumped around a lot in my thoughts and missed some out but can i be bothered to fix #that right niw? no no i can't 😌) anyway just. them all having different definitions of the word home and julie realising maybe she can be #at home wherever luke is. and luke already knowing that his home is wherever julie is #(this is all because i cba to finish the thing ive started writing about luke and home ghfjd)

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stanathanxoox · 4 years

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Kicked Out Part 4

gif is mine

@rexburn12@rexburn12 said:

Hi, when you have the time can you make a part 4 of Kicked Out where Male Reader gets to the Cullens He sees the Amazons and Tanya Imprints on them making him their mate the pack doesn't like it and want him out of the pack reader doesn't give a sh*t, and leaves the pack. The Amazon's are shocked to find their fourth mate because they felt something missing in their mating bond. The Pack tries to attack readers mate's but roars at them his eyes glowing red making them scared, and whimper.

As you hung around the Cullen residence after witnessing the truth of what Renesmee is, you were walking the barrier with Jacob and Seth, two of your closest friends when you come face to face with the Amazon coven and Tanya one of the Denali covens, as you run your gaze over the four women, something inside you shifts and you begin to whimper as Jacob looks towards you and gasps

“Have you just imprinted?” he whispers and you look over at him, and nod

“On who?” he asks and you look back at the four-woman, at Tanya, Kachiri, Zafrina and Senna and your heart bursts with happiness as your eyes rake over each of the beautiful women in front of you.

“All four of them” you whisper and Jacob and Seth's jaws drop

“But how is that possible? We're only supposed to be imprint on one mate right?” Seth asks and Jacob shrugs

“That's the theory yes, but we've never really explored this kind of thing in more detail before” Jacob says and you sigh

“What do I do?” you ask looking towards Jacob for help and he reaches out placing his hand on your shoulder

“You tell them the truth” he says and you sigh

“I've never done anything like this before” you say and Jacob sighs,

“It's okay to feel anxious Y/N, it's a lot to take in. Besides, you don't have to tell them right away” he says and you nod. Turning back to the women one last time you sigh and say

“I should probably head back to the reserve”, you say and he nods

“Okay, I guess I'll be seeing you later then”.

Arriving back on the reserve you call for an immediate meeting with the pack, making your way to the clearing in your human form before they get a chance to read your mind you take a calming breath before transforming into your wolf form. There's a lot of things on your mind so when the other wolves all join you in the clearing you can't help but hear the few growls of disbelief when you tell them that they are to be protecting Renesmee when the Volturi come, even more gasps and growls come when the older members of the pack learn that you have imprinted, on not one but four vampires, when they begin threatening their lives you force them back and threaten your own pack. Things get heated before you realise your probably better off by yourself, without any hesitation you turn over the title of leader to the pack, telling them how disappointed in them you are.

Making your way back towards the Cullen residence you find Jacob and Seth waiting for you.

“How'd things go with the pack?” Seth asks and you look at the young man, a growl leaving your throat before you tell them what had happened when you left the pack

“It was horrible, they were nasty from the moment I called them to meet from the time I told them I was leaving the pack” you say and Seth's jaw drops

“Wait, so you left the pack?” he asks and you nod

“They were threatening Tanya, Kachiri, Zafrina and Senna, I couldn't stand for that so when I told them that they were not impressed, so I snapped and told them I was leaving the pack, honestly, I have no regrets” you admit and the two of them look at you before Seth nudges your shoulder with a gentle push

“So are you going to talk to the ladies?” he asks, a teasing glint in his eyes

“Maybe, I don't know” you say, sheepishly, hands in your pockets. Like you had said before, you hadn't very much experience with relationships or even been around many people who had been imprinted on, it was all new territory to you, but when Jacob nudged you over to the four-woman who seemed to be in deep conversation even now, accompanying you to help you discuss the situation you couldn't help but feel grateful towards your close friend.

“Uh hi, ladies,” you said, nervously changing your weight from one foot to the other, all four of them turned their gazes to you and Jacob and when they gave you a small smile, your heart jumped and did flutters of joy.

“What can we do for you? Jacob? Y/N?” Tanya asked as the three Amazonians watched you curiously. You look towards Jacob, pleading with him to help you and he sighs

“How much do you guys know about wolves and our ability to imprint?” Jacob asks and whilst Kachiri and Tanya look between you and Jacob with a little bit of understanding and curiosity, Senna and Zafrina look incredibly confused.

“What is imprinting?” Senna asks, her deep voice sending jolts through your body, she truly was a beauty, her brown skin and brown eyes pulling you in and calling your name.

“It's an involuntary mechanism that helps our pack find our soulmates, we don't have a choice as to who we imprint on and a lot of the time it happens completely out of the blue when we lay eyes on a person” Jacob pauses before his gaze flickers between you and the four-woman in front of you “or in Y/N's case between himself and the four of you” the four woman's jaws drop upon hearing this and you shrink backwards but manage to muster up the courage to say

“It really wasn't intentional. I had no choice, and as far as we know its never happened between so many people before. Whatever happens between us, doesn't have to be romantic it can just be platonic, it just means that I am unconditionally bound to the four of you for the rest of my life” you say and they all look at you as they take that news in, Senna who had been standing at the back of the group takes a step towards you, hesitantly

“Well I for one would be honoured to accept whatever this is, I guess we'll find out what the true meaning of imprinting is when the time comes” you smile at her and she beams, her brown eyes meeting your own, before Zafrina and Kachiri take a step forward to stand next to their sister

“We will accept this, we've always wanted a fourth member of our coven” Zafrina says and your jaw drops

“You mean? You'll let me come back to the amazon with you?” you ask and they nod

“If that is what you need, Y/N, then we do not see why not” Kachiri says, shaking your hand and you feel a small jolt go through your skin at the contact. You look towards Tanya, who has remained silent for the whole conversation and when her amber eyes meet your she takes a deep breath

“Edward told me that something like this was going to happen, Alice apparently had seen something like this happening. I can't say it was exactly what I wanted but I am curious, I will give it a try” she says and you nod, giving her a small smile. Jacob clears his throat awkwardly before he gives your shoulder a gentle pat

“Well I guess I will leave you to get to know these beautiful woman” you look to him and smile before thanking him.

For the next couple of days you get to know each one of the four women, your connection with Senna being the strongest, more romantic of the four women, however you didn't hesitate to show that kind of affection to the others when they showed it to you. You were loving the feeling of knowing that no matter what happened in your life, you would always have these amazing four women by your side through it all.

Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi, @jimmybpride, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy, @nikkiwierden, @samchelforever007, @kirkspockbones, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love, @haliannej-deactivated20191209, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake, @mizzezm, @genius2050, @twilight-twihard, @cullencoven2019, @captainxmikaelson, @luciferxchloeislove, @drethanramsey-ismybabe, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine, @loverofoneshots

Tag List for Twilight: @jasper-babyxx, @drcarlislecullenissexy

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight fic #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #twilight reader insert #twilight renaissance #wolf pack #wolf pack imagine #wolf pack x reader

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years

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A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 14)

Leisure Time

Some leisure time with Arthur <3

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

I'd grown used to waking up early, before anyone else, and putting on a pot of coffee. It'd quickly become my routine, so when I approached the fire to see that it was already lit and there was already a pot of coffee waiting for me, it surprised me. I poured myself a cup and looked around the camp, expecting Pearson to be around. He was, but he was still sleeping; that's when I noticed that Arthur's bed was empty. Immediately I felt the usual pang of adrenaline spreading from my stomach at the prospect of him being around; it was becoming more familiar, more pleasant. Excitement rather than nerves.

I wandered the camp looking for him, finally finding him behind Pearson's wagon with a bucket of water and a wet cloth. I jumped when I realised that he was shirtless, just as he looked up and noticed me.

"Oh! I'm sorry," I mumbled, turning to head off.

"No, it's alright. How you doing this morning?" He asked. I stopped, my back still to him, taking a second to breathe before turning around.

"Not too bad. Yourself?" I asked. He was washing himself, wiping the cloth up and down his chest and under his arms. The top of his union suit was hanging down over his jeans, his upper body totally bare. His torso was gently toned under a fine layer of soft cushion, he was brawny and undeniably masculine with a generous smattering of chest hair. I tried so very hard not to stare.

The side of Arthur's mouth turned up when he caught my expression; he must've known how he made me feel.

"Not too bad," he echoed me, wringing out his washcloth before wiping it around his neck. "Did Micah give you any more trouble yesterday?"

"Oh, no. He left me alone after you left," I told him, dawdling over to the wagon and leaning up against it, putting me a little closer to him. I sipped my coffee.

"Well, you know where I am if he ever does," he said, then scrubbed at his face. I admired his toned arms as they moved, shining a little with water. I averted my gaze before he pulled the cloth away from his face, staring off towards a group of chickens nearby.

"Thank you, but I should be fine," I assured him and he chuckled.

"I don't doubt that."

"I heard the robbery went okay, a lot of lawmen but a decent take," I said, watching him nod his head slowly.

"Yeah, it went alright. Sounds funny, hearing you talk like that."

"What, about robberies?" I asked, the corner of my mouth lifting in amusement.

"You don't look like– I don't think it suits you, much," he told me, and I wasn't sure how to respond.

"What does suit me?"

"I haven't figured it out yet," he shrugged.

I looked at him for a while before averting my eyes, pursing my lips in thought. I really didn't know what to make of the conversation. In the end I simply changed the subject.

"I spoke to Abigail yesterday," I told him, looking back to see him pick up a towel and start drying off. "She don't hate me, like I thought she did."

"I didn't think she would, I told you you worry too much. Still, must be a weight off your shoulders," he said.

"Absolutely," I laughed. He put the towel aside, leaning up against the side of the wagon and facing me, making no move to redress. "She'd heard what Karen said and she seemed to take no notice."

"What, about you and Marston?" He smirked, forever seeming amused by the concept. I nodded my head. "Abigail has her head screwed on, she can sniff out a bunch of bull with the best of 'em."

"She's certainly observant," I laughed, shaking my head and chewing the inside of my cheek.

"You told me you didn't like how you were coming across; seems you were wrong about that. Folk'll see your intentions, you ain't here to cause trouble. So, I guess now you ain't got nothing to worry about, you won't be so eager to get away from us?" He joked.

"You know? You're right about that," I admitted, and Arthur's brows raised, amusement draining from his face being replaced with uncertainty.

"I'm sorry?"

"Truth be told, I did some thinking yesterday about what I wanna do. I realised maybe I don't wanna run off as much as I thought I did," I sighed, chewing on my lip.

"You can't be serious?" Arthur let out a breath that was halfway between a laugh and a sound of disbelief. I frowned and straightened up, facing him head on.

"What do you mean? You were the one asking me the other day if I really wanted to leave, sounded a bit like you thought I'd be better off staying. What's changed?" I asked and Arthur paused for a while, keeping his eyes on mine. I kept Abigail's words in mind and forced myself to hold eye contact.

"That was before the Pinkertons showed up," he finally said.

"And? You said you all had each others' backs, looked out for each other. Maybe I… maybe I wanna be a part of all that," I told him and creases formed between his brows.

"You've certainly changed your tune, little miss lone wolf," he snorted.

"I realised something," I said, gaining an expectant look from him. "People, they– when they're in a situation they can't exactly change they have ways of making themselves feel better. They tell themselves all sorts of lies to change their outlook, to protect themselves," I looked down at the ground.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I convinced myself I liked being alone, that it was the only way for me, cause it was easier than dealing with the fact that I was lonely and scared about what the future might hold for me; no friends, no nothing," I told him, despite everything in my head screaming at me not to. Once this was said there was no going back.

Arthur was quiet for a long time and I looked up at him to see his reaction. He looked thoughtful, his face soft and considerate.

"But the more time I've spent here the more I realise, being alone is nice and all but it ain't something I want permanently. The way I've been living this past year, I've just been surviving, scraping through, I don't think I've spent five minutes not being tense. Here, I've been sleeping through the night, not waking up every time I hear a damn rustle in the trees. I've… I've smiled."

"I thought you were happy on your own," he said.

"So did I. Not as happy, it turns out, as I am actually interacting with human beings on a regular basis," I laughed. "Feeling like I'm part of something, like I can contribute, be useful. That's better than just surviving. I wanna help you folk, you're good people," I reached out and touched his arm, forgetting for a moment his lack of a shirt and flushing when my hand met bare skin.

I pulled my hand away and cleared my throat, Arthur seemed to read my mind and shimmied his arms back into his union suit, buttoning it up as he spoke.

"I don't know about that. I can see what you're saying, and part of me wants to tell you to stick around for those reasons exactly. But we've got the law after us, I don't want you getting wrapped up in and punished for something you weren't even involved in, just by way of association with us," he told me, his voice lowering and turning smoother, deeper. Very pleasant on the ears indeed.

"That don't put me off, much," I shrugged. "After all, what's my alternative? I wave goodbye and go back to what; my tent? Going days on end without saying a word 'cause there's no one around to hear it? That might've worked for me before but it ain't now, no thanks," I shook my head. "I don't have many options, Arthur. And I like it here."

"You're a woman, you've always got options," Arthur said, and when I cocked a brow at him, he explained. "You could ride up to Valentine right now and find a feller who'd make an honest woman out of you, put a roof over your head, build a life with you. One that don't involve robbing."

"You think? A woman with no money, no reputation at all, let alone a good one. No family. I don't know, Arthur, I ain't all that much of an eligible bachelorette."

"Lot'a folk round here don't care about that. I know if I was leading a normal life and I was lookin' for a woman, I'd– well, I ain't gonna finish that, save you the embarrassment," Arthur muttered, averting his eyes with an awkward chuckle. I felt warm with his words, a special seed of something planting itself in the pit of my stomach that made me want to stick around even more. "My point is, you have other options."

I shook my head. "Whatever your point is, I don't much like the sound of having my whole future resting on the shoulders of some hypothetical man."

Arthur's brows raised, an enlightened look appearing on his face. After a moment he wagged his finger at me, "you know what? Forget all that."

"Huh?"

"I'm speaking from where the sun don't shine," he started, chuckling. "You, m'lady, are stubborn. You're stubborn, real independent, and eventually you'll make your mind up."

"I already have."

"I tell you what, this ain't my decision to make; I'm leaving the door open for you, but I ain't pushing you through it. You wanna stay? I'm sure Dutch'd be real happy about that,” he said, his voice lifting again, turning breezy.

"And what about you? Would you be happy if I were to stay? You seem just as indecisive as me when it comes to whether I should be staying or leaving."

"Miss, it don't matter what I think," he tilted his head at me and sighed. "You're gonna do exactly what you want, regardless."

"Would you be happy if I stayed?" I repeated, putting my coffee down on the table by Arthur's bucket of water.

Arthur stared at me in consideration, searching my eyes. I refused to look away despite my heart pounding in my chest, trying to escape up my throat it seemed. Eventually he let out a quiet breath, licking his lips and looking at something off in the distance behind me.

"I enjoy knowing you, ma'am. If you leaving meant I'd never see you again then sure, you staying would be preferable."

A smirk spread across my face before I could stop it and Arthur mirrored it, though there was an edge of questioning behind his.

"That's a lot of words, Arthur. Are you saying you like me?" I asked, allowing my tone to dip into something mischievous. Why not have a little fun?

"I like hearing what you've got to say, you've got an interesting way of thinking about things. You make for pleasant company. Yes, I like you," he said slowly, a slight playful edge to his words. His smirk wasn't going anywhere.

"Well, I'm glad," I simply said and he shook his head and laughed.

"Is this one of your 'caring too much about what other people think of you' things? Cause I thought we got over that, with Abigail," he said. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Not this time. I was just checking since I'm fond of you, too," I dared to say.

Arthur kept his eyes on me for a little while and I was certain I was going to have to lay down to recover from the way my heart had been pounding for so long. He cleared his throat and seemed to force himself to stop smiling, pouting his lips into this badly rendered serious face.

"Ma'am, if you're staying I'll treat you no different to any of the others. I welcome you with open arms, just as long as you keep pulling your weight, which I know you will," he said, turning and picking up the bucket, carrying it off towards the treeline. My legs carried me after him.

"Speaking of, you got anything on that I can help you with?" I asked. Arthur tossed the water out into the foliage then turned to me.

"You really have changed your tune, first time we rode out hunting together you couldn't seem to get away quick enough."

"Well, you know, that was back when I was still being all reclusive," I said, making Arthur chuckle.

"I ain't got nothing on till later; I'm meeting John in Valentine. I have a few hours before that, how's about we take a ride together? Staying out of trouble this time."

"Just take a ride? For leisure?”

"Yeah, for leisure. Or if you'd prefer, we'll say we're going out looking for… berries. Herbs. Gathering stuff. Whatever we call it, I could use some time away from here," he told me, placing his bucket down and waiting for my response.

"I'd like that. While we're out I'll keep my eye out for some oleander; Charles asked if I could get him some."

"You ain't gonna find much oleander around here, we'd have to ride out towards Lemoyne for that, prob'ly," he pointed out.

"Well, how long do you have before you're meeting John?"

Arthur pursed his lips. "We'll head in that direction and see how far we get, no promises. Finish your coffee and I'll go put a shirt on," Arthur touched my arm gently as he passed me on the way to his tent, and I watched him go as I picked up my coffee. It was on the verge of going cold, so I downed it in one.

Arthur and I set off once again before anyone else had woken up, anyone would think we were keeping secrets. It was another hot day and Arthur had handed me his spare hat again; commenting for a second time that it suited me. The hat itself was a little big on me but it fit me enough to stay on while riding, it had a wide, dark leather brim and a decorative purple band, studded with metal buttons all the way around. I hadn't seen myself in it, but I trusted Arthur's judgement in that I didn't look silly.

We didn't speak for quite some time, but it didn't feel awkward or strange. Our horses trotted side by side and the two of us took in the peace of the early morning, enjoying the picturesque views of the heartlands. I was content to ride in silence, assuming that Arthur was as lost in his head as I was, but he surprised me by being the one to speak first.

"Where'd you live, if you don't mind me asking? Before you started moving around?" He asked.

"Oh, in Lemoyne, actually. A bit outside of Saint Denis. You ever been to Saint Denis, Arthur?"

"Me? Nah, it's a big city. I don't much like those," he admitted. I looked over at him and he continued. "Far too much civilisation, I prefer it out west."

"I've never really been out west. Blackwater is the furthest I've been but I've never explored any of New Austin. Seemed a little like suicide, going on my own with just my tent, I've heard stories of cholera outbreaks and all sorts," I said. Arthur hummed in consideration.

"You were probably wise, staying away," he nodded in agreement. "So you're a city dweller, first and foremost?" He asked, his tone just a little bit teasing.

"I wouldn't go that far. Like I said, we lived outside of the city, but I did go in occasionally. It's busy there, and noisy. I much prefer these quieter parts, I've been staying in the heartlands mostly since then. Swamps ain't all that nice to camp in, with all the gators and such," I chuckled. "Plus there's some strange folk around there, it's much safer here."

"You'll find strange folk everywhere," Arthur pointed out and by his tone I imagined he'd had more than a few run-ins. He laughed as though something just occurred to him. "And a guess to a lot of people, we could be the strange folk."

"Yes, I suppose so," I agreed.

We fell quiet again, and the open space around us felt far too tempting. I was the next to break the silence.

"Can we go fast?" I asked, and Arthur sputtered out a surprised laugh.

"I thought I was out fishing with Jack again. You turn into a big kid when you're put behind the reins, huh?"

"May we gallop, sir?" I rephrased, putting on a more refined manner of speaking. Arthur smirked at me without saying anything, then called to his horse, using his spurs to speed him up. He bolted ahead of me and I giggled as I sped up after him.

Riding fast was one of my favourite feelings in the world. It was always so exhilarating, feeling the air blasting at your body, feeling the power behind your horse, covering so much ground and feeling completely free. I loved it.

I soon caught Arthur up and rode alongside him. The rhythmic pounding of hooves on the ground below and the whistle of wind past my ears provided a satisfying soundtrack; though I did have to catch Arthur's hat from flying off my head a number of times. It was fun, it made my heart pump as quick as a well timed smile from Arthur tended to, and I laughed aloud as we crossed the earth at impressive speeds.

We rode like that for a while, slowing up to give the horses a break by the time we reached Dewberry Creek.

"That enough excitement for you?" He asked me as we settled into a relaxed canter.

"For now," I grinned.

"How's that saddle suiting you?" He asked and I glanced down at it.

"It's great! Thank you for letting me use it," I said.

"It's yours now, I don't need it."

"Hey, can you catch?" I asked, reaching into the pocket of my jeans and retrieving a watch.

"From the back of a horse?" Arthur looked over at me with a cocked brow. I drew my arm back as if I was about to toss it to him. ”No, I probably can't!" He quickly said and I laughed; I was never actually going to throw it.

Our horses slowed even more and I steered Rayna closer to him, and handed Arthur the pocket watch.

"It's one of the ones we got from the Schwartz' place. I snagged it from the pile for you," I told him. He opened it up and inspected it. It was a fancy looking watch; not that I knew much about them. I just thought it was nice and I had wanted to give something to Arthur as a token of gratitude.

"Aw, well this is very nice. Thank you, ma'am," he said, his words mumbled just a little like he wasn't sure how to act.

"A little trade for the saddle, I suppose," I said. Arthur laughed.

"My old saddle that I was thinking of tossing?"

"Yeah well, that's a stolen watch, so I guess it's the thought that counts for the both of us," I said and Arthur seemed to agree.

"You know this thing is engraved?"

"Is it, where?”

"On the inside of the case, it says; so you will always hold me close," he read out. My face flushed, I hadn't noticed at all and I might've thought twice about giving it to him if I'd have known. No doubt he thought there was something behind it, a not so subtle hint. "Reckon it's from his wife?" He asked, and I was relieved that he seemed so unbothered by it.

After a moment to gather myself I said; "Either her or his last servant girl," and Arthur laughed aloud, clicking the watch closed and slipping it into his satchel. "Struck me as the type to always have a bit on the side."

"You know, it's a shame I couldn't come along with you to do that job," he said, surprising me.

"You'd've wanted to?"

"Yeah. Especially if I knew Micah was gonna go with you instead," he sighed.

"You really ain't fond of him, are you?" I observed and he gave me an obvious look. "Well, I thought he was a bit of a creep. He was great at his job but he sure weren't comfortable to be alone with."

"No surprises there. I reckon he'll try something with you, given half a chance. He's bothered all the girls, Abigail'll tell you; but you're the shiny new toy. Dutch knows what he's like, I'm not sure why he'd send him off with you.”

"I needed someone to do the job with and he was available," I shrugged.

"I suppose. Just you be careful with him."

”I will be. I've dealt with fellers like him before, in saloons all over these parts," I said, then glanced past him at the view behind him. "Wow, look at that. This country really is beautiful, ain't it?"

Both of us stopped on the trail for a moment, looking out across Scarlett Meadows. We were by an expanse of rolling hills filled with wildflowers, lush trees and wildlife. Deer were wandering in small clusters and the sound of birdsong surrounded us. It was moments like this that made me really appreciate how lucky I was to still be alive.

Arthur pulled a journal out of his satchel and flipped it open. Without saying a word he started sketching in it, putting down what he saw in front of him on paper. I was impressed by how his eyes stayed mostly on the scenery, only dipping down occasionally to check on where his pencil was going; it occurred to me he must draw a lot to be so confident with his marks.

"I won't be a minute," he murmured as he worked. I leaned forward, resting on the horn of my saddle as I waited for him.

Truth be told we could stay there all day, I was more than happy admiring the way he worked. The way his large hand gripped the pencil with surprising sensitivity, his wrist moving in jerky motions as he blocked in areas of light and dark, the way he was completely absorbed in what he was doing to the point where I wouldn't dream of speaking to him at the risk of distracting him. I was thoroughly rapt by him in that moment, and the realisation that my little crush on him was only growing more intense came knocking. My instinct was to look away from him at that, but I didn't.

By the time he was done the side of his hand was muckied with graphite from where he'd moved it across the paper, but he didn't seem to notice or mind as he lifted his journal, having a proper look at what he'd produced. He was good, the drawing he'd made stretched over two pages and it was lovely, and he'd done it so quickly. He flipped the page and wrote something down briefly, before closing up his journal and putting it away. With that, he picked up his reins and carried on.

He just wasn't going to say something about that?

"You draw?" I said, stating the obvious. "From what I saw that was really good, Arthur."

"I like to keep a record of the things I see," he told me. "I wouldn't know if they really are any good, but I draw them for myself so I suppose it don't really matter."

"Well, I thought it was good," I shrugged. "Not that my opinion matters."

"Thanks," he said, looking over at me. He looked like he was waiting for something, I just looked back at him blankly until he chuckled. "I reckon you're one of the first people who ain't asked to look."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want me to ask?" Oops, was that incredibly rude of me?

"No," he shook his head. "I'm pleasantly surprised, is all."

"Oh, good. Well, I didn't ask because I know those things are sometimes personal, and in your case it clearly is. I used to draw, but I couldn't get two lines sketched before someone was looking over my shoulder. It embarrassed me, to be honest, so I haven't done it in a while."

"You should start again. What did you like to draw?"

"Would it sound terribly conceited if I said I drew myself a lot? I used to sit in front of the mirror in my mother's room and sketch myself. I liked drawing faces but my family didn't like it when I tried to draw them, told me to stop staring. So I just used myself as a model," I chuckled.

"You wanna draw something now?" He offered.

"Right now?"

"Sure. I'll give you some paper, let you borrow my pencil. You can even draw me, if you like drawing faces. I don't mind, it'll give me an excuse to sit still for a while and do nothing," he laughed.

"Oh, that's a lot of pressure, it'll be bad. I haven't picked up a pencil in ages."

"You don't have to show me," he reassured me. He said it so softly and with such understanding that I felt touched by it. I paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Then, yes please. I'd enjoy that."

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #atink #reader insert

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richietozierluv · 6 years

Text

he first knew - (bill denbrough)

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Summary: As the unmentioned leader of the Loser’s Club, they look to him for support, for someone to tell them what to do and that it’s going to be okay. Until now, no one made the effort to tell him that he’s going to be okay, and because of you, maybe he will start to believe these things himself.

Author’s Note: I swear it’s not as angsty as it sounds, I always write at like 1am so maybe it’s reflecting into my writing whoops

Word Count: 1,505

Warnings: Swearing and ?Wasps?

“We gotta be c-c-careful, I don’t want to leave a muh-muh-mess. My dad will be –“

He spat out a number of ‘p’s, and finally managed to say ‘pissed off’. You, Bill, and Eddie were taking advantage of Bill’s empty house, by playing, what was supposed to be, a friendly game of Monopoly.

“It’s not my fault that she’s clearly fucking cheating!” Eddie pointed at you accusingly. Sure, he was your best friend, but he was a pain in the ass. Oh my god he was such a pain in the ass.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” you retorted.

“Ha, ha. Do you even realise how many germs there are in your mouth? You’d be literally sucking someone to death.”

“Eds,” he threw a dice at you, “you are a germ.”

Bill watched this catfight play out as he cleaned up the remains of the game pieces, and put the game back under the TV cabinet. It ended with a poor “your mom” joke on Eddie’s side, and a middle finger on yours. After he had slammed the door and left, you turned to Bill.

“Sorry Big Bill, I thought he’d finally learnt how to not suck at playing games.”

You plopped down on the couch, and flicked through the pile of movies Bill had selected for your weekly movie night.

“I guess it’s only e-ever a matter of time until h-he throws a tantrum. We can’t expect too much from the kid.” He sat down next to you, and almost punched you in the cheek in order to grab ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ from your hands. “You think you’re up for it this time?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me? Not only am I up for it, but I will love watching you st-st-stutter in fear,” you both smiled at each other, only noticing how close your faces were when the front door started to unlock. Instinctively, you both jumped back.

You both said goodnight to Bill’s parents, who had walked upstairs almost as soon as they were inside.

His parents loved you, or at least that’s what Bill thought, but it was hard to make a judgement when they didn’t speak to their son all that much, let alone you. The first time you met them, his mother had offered a reluctant, “Hello, nice to meet you, Y/n,” and you worried yourself thinking you had made a bad first impression. But when you turned around to see Bill’s expression of absolute overjoy, you felt reassured; although a little sad that such a small gesture could make him so happy.

After discovering that you were in fact, not up for it, and could only watch the movie through the fingers over your eyes, and with the help of Bill’s arms around you, the both of you had fallen asleep on the couch.

Unsurprisingly, his parents didn’t even notice.

A few weeks before, Beverly, Ben, Stan, Eddie, and you, listened intently to Richie’s take on what happened to him and Bill at the infamous house on Neibolt Street.

“I swear to god, IT almost had me by the balls. If it weren’t for Bill and his gun, I would no longer be a man.”

“I-I don’t know w-what a duh-duh-dead thing smells like, but now- now I th-think I do,” Beverly’s hand went to her mouth, “it smells- it smells like shit.” Any other time they would laugh, and Richie would congratulate Bill on telling a ‘ripper of a joke’. But all he got in response was a look from you, a look that knew too well, he supposed.

“And the worst thing is, it didn’t even look like a real werewolf. It looked like something from a movie, I saw the zipper on its back.” Richie fumbled with a loose thread at the edge of his Hawaiian shirt, not knowing exactly what else to say. To be honest, he was expecting more of a reaction than just the sound of Eddie pumping his asthma puffer. The only weird thing about that, was that he did it only the once, almost as if he was contemplating letting his head get cloudy enough to knock him out. Over the next few hours or so, the barrens became a confessional. Everyone started to share their own encounters with IT; Beverly and her bathroom sink, Eddie’s leper lover at the aforementioned house, and your encounter with the giant wasp nest in your bedroom.

At 7pm, although undiscussed, the group split into pairs so that they’d make it home in time for dinner. You left Eddie with Richie and Ben when you realised Bill was walking alone.

“So I guess you won’t be seeing Attack of the Werewolf 2 anytime soon?” you nudged him playfully, and he smiled sadly back.

“I-It’s too bad you’re sc-scared of was-was-“

You let him stutter for a few moments before saying, “You aren’t allowed to make fun of what I’m scared of. We signed a disclosure agreement.”

“S-sorry… Do you w-want to know where was-wasps come from?”

“Bill-“

“St-stingapore.”

You threatened to push Bill onto the road, even though there were no cars at this time of night in Derry, but gave in to laughter when he smiled at you wildly. Partly because the joke wasn’t half bad, and partly because you felt like there were butterflies- no, wasps- in your chest at the mere sound of his voice. You didn’t care that it cracked and stuttered, you would do or say anything to hear it.

Bill invited you in, as his parents would be home late, and went to the kitchen to grab you both a can of soda. He tripped over his own feet, and let the cans roll out of his hands, when he heard you playing a familiar tune on the piano in the back room. The light that filtered in through the hallway draped itself over you, enabling you to see the piano keys in the dark. You fumbled, hit all the wrong notes, but it still sounded okay.

“How-how do you know that song?”

You jumped when Bill had sat down next to you.

“My dad- he had this crappy little keyboard, but he’d always play this song to me when I was little and I couldn’t sleep.” You were all too aware of Bill shaking, and laced your fingers with his so that he would stop.

“Can you teach me- a- a little bit?” he was whispering, but it sounded loud, and you could hear him trying not to cry.

“Okay, put your right hand here,” you shifted it with your own, “and your left hand,” you untangled your fingers and positioned it in front of him. “It can be a bit tricky at first,” you smiled, forgetting he couldn’t see you. You moved his fingers to the right keys so that it sounded like it should be a song but wasn’t quite, and before Bill could tell you that his mother used to play this song to Georgie, you asked him, “Bill, I know you’re not, but- are you okay?”

He wasn’t shaking anymore, but full on hiccupping with sobs. You held him tightly, brushing your hand gently through his hair.

Bill’s crush on you started out as puppy love. After picking up the dinted cans of soda, and getting a new pair from the fridge, he plopped down on the couch next to you, as if he had done it hundreds of times before, even though this had been your first time at his house without the others. He passed you a Coca Cola, felt his heart jump when you smiled a thank you, and stuttered, “Do- do you wuh-wuh-want to watch a movie?”

Throughout the film, he stared at you, noticing as if for the very first time, how beautiful you looked, even with the only light coming from the television screen.

You first kissed him when you let him beat you at a game of Scrabble, because you just couldn’t resist how happy he looked, and wanted to live in that moment forever. It was messy, you had grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, and pulled him over the game board. When you pulled back, you didn’t even for a moment think he wouldn’t want to kiss you, but you wanted a good look at his face; eyes closed, mouth still puckered, and his cheeks as red as yours. He knocked over the rest of the Scrabble letters almost like a little kid, or Eddie, who was losing at a game, to collide his lips with yours once again.

He first knew he loved you when he woke up in the middle of the night, after watching ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’, and felt entirely too warm with you sleeping right next to him on the couch. But instead of waking you up, he pulled you closer and tighter, never wanting to feel cold again.

AN: i am finally getting out of my writer’s block but it’s probably not healthy sitting in the dark on my laptop at 2am writing and writing and oh god. anyways hopefully this is okay! I've never really read any bill stuff myself, but i do love him a lot and just wanted to care for him because WHO ELSE WILL??????

tagged: @riverdalerebel

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough x reader #it cast #it cast imagine #it movie #jaeden lieberher #jaeden lieberher imagine #jaeden lieberher x reader #richietozierluv

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