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hllywdwhre · 3 days

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My Darling Boy

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Irish!fem!reader

Summary: Tommy’s late night leads to you comforting him and a recount of the first time you realized you loved him.

Warnings: Panic attacks, reader faces anti-Irish sentiment from a stranger, Tommy says some questionable things about the Irish but nothing too bad💀, violence, bar fight. Let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 2.8K

Notes: This was 100% inspired by @red-write-hand ‘s Tommy bot. My god do I love that thing and fluff it gives me. I tried keeping this as reader friendly as possible, but some details had to be added to fit the plot, such as reader being Irish.

Edit: This has not been proofread and YIKES. Sorry for all the errors😭

Flashbacks are italicized!

You stared at the clock on your wall that read 2:07 AM. Tommy was supposed to be in bed three hours ago. It was your agreement. He could work as late as he wanted as long as he ate all three meals with you and came to bed at 11. The resolve had come almost a year ago when you’d finally told him you, his wife, felt like second place to his work.

But here it was. 2AM, your bed felt cold without him there, and this was the third time this week that he hadn’t come to bed on time.

You tried not to argue with him. He had enough stress with work and you didn’t want to be a source of more stress, but you had his same quick temper and you couldn’t deny that you were more than irritated that he was seemingly back to his old ways of ignoring your agreement.

You made your way down the hall and to his office, leaning against the door frame.

Tommy spoke before you could, “I know what you’re about to say.”

The exhaustion in his voice and the way he looked… defeated immediately caused a change of heart in you, though.

“My darling boy,” you said in a soft voice, making sure to use the pet name you had for him to try and avoid him thinking you were there for an argument.

“Don’t ‘my darling boy’ me,” he replied immediately with a bite in his tone, “Not when you’re here to start an argument with me. What time is it?”

You’d known Tommy since he came back from The Great War. You knew more than well enough by now to not take his words to heart when he was like this. He was taking his anger out on you, whether you deserved it or not.

You had blinded men and taken their tongues using the bladed Peaky Blinders cap for speaking to you the way Tommy was speaking to you, but Tommy was your soft spot. Somehow, you always remained calm when it came to Tommy.

You made your way over to his desk and picked up the empty whiskey glass that was next to a stack of papers that littered his desk.

“It’s 2 in the morning, my love,” you replied in a calm voice. You walked over to the fireplace where his bottle of whiskey sat and refilled the glass then placed it on the desk again.

He picked it up as soon as you set it down and took a long drink from it.

“I have work, you know that. The business doesn’t run itself.” He took another swallow of the liquid and you could see the way his breathing had picked up slightly.

It started to make sense in that moment. You knew Tommy as well as he knew you and as well as you knew yourself. You knew the signs of one of his panic attacks beginning and stepped between him and his desk.

“I know that. I’m not mad at you, darling,” you replied after a moment. You made sure to keep your voice the steady and calm tone you knew he needed at the moment as you spoke. “Can you look at me?”

Tommy took a deep breath before looking up at you and you could see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with the way his eyes seemed unable to focus on you. You lifted your hand to his cheek and gently ran your thumb across it in a slow motion.

“What’s your full name?” You asked him. The questions you would ask him changed from time-to-time so he wouldn’t get too used to them. They were simple questions, enough to distract him and get him to focus on you, but not enough to send him into a further panic.

“Thomas Michael Shelby, why?” He raised the glass to his lips again, but his breathing only picked up more.

You took the glass from his hand and set it on the desk behind you then placed his hand on your chest, right where you knew he would be able to feel your heartbeat.

“Focus on my breathing and my voice. What’s John’s wife’s name?” You asked him next.

You watched as he closed his eyes and did as you said, trying to match his breathing to yours as you began taking slower and deeper breaths.

“Esme,” he answered after a moment.

“When’s our wedding anniversary?” You asked next.

”The 17th of August.”

You knew it was silly, but you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks at how quickly and easily he answered that question. It was the little things like that which reminded you that you were still his number one priority.

“Can you look at me again?” You asked him once you noticed his breathing had calmed down.

Tommy looked to you, his blue eyes immediately finding your eyes and locking onto them. The corner of his mouth tilted into a small smirk and you returned it with a small smile of your own.

“I love you,” you told him as you crawled into his lap and pulled him into a hug, trying to help ground him more.

He immediately returned your hug and buried his head into your neck. Your hands instinctively rose to the back of his head and gently ran your nails across the shaved part of it.

“I love you, too. Even when I’m a mess,” he replied quietly.

“You’re not a mess,” you argued immediately, “you’re my amazing husband, an amazing business leader, an amazing member of parliament, and the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

A sigh left his lips after a long moment and his head remained buried in your neck. His breathing was no longer panicked and he had relaxed into your hold completely.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered into your neck.

“Funny,” you said with a chuckle, “I think the same thing of me.” You moved your head enough so you could kiss his temple. “Love you with all my heart, Thomas Shelby. You’re my darling boy.”

As soon as the pet name left your lips, he was chuckling into your neck. It was one anyone else would be maimed for calling him, but somehow you saying it had won him over.

“Love you, too,” he murmured in response.

After a couple long minutes of the two of you curled into each other, and once you were sure he wouldn’t panic speaking of it, you asked him,

“What led to it?”

He immediately knew what you were asking and shook his head in your neck,

“Nothing,” he replied in a defeated voice.

You pulled back enough to cause him to raise his head and she the quirked brow you were giving him,

“Thomas Shelby, what do you tell me every time I try to say the same thing?”

Any time you tried to belittle your problems, Tommy was the one who was telling you that if it was causing you troubles, then it wasn’t nothing and it was worth talking about.

He grumbled something under his breath about using his own words against him and then finally answered.

“The bloody Irish,” he said loud enough for you to hear.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your lips. You knew Tommy knew better than to think she was laughing at him or her problems; you were simply laughing at the irony of it all.

“What have my people done now?” You asked, purposefully making your accent come out as thick as possible to pick on him.

“Made an illegal shipment without our say so,” Tommy replied and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Well… we’ve never liked to obey the English. I think my ancestors are rolling in their graves at how soft I am with you,” you teased, hoping to get at least a chuckle out of him.

It worked and you could feel the way his body shook the slightest bit as the small laugh left him,

“You’re not soft, darling, you’re just civilized,” he teased in return.

You pulled away with a look of mock offense on your face,

“Hey, now! My people are very civilized, we just know how to have fun,” you told him.

You know Tommy held no actual disdain towards you or your Irish blood. He himself was part Irish. He only spoke this way around you to get under your skin and pick on you.

“If you call bar fights being civilized then sure, darling.” The smirk on his face told you he was still only teasing you.

You scrunched up your nose as you looked at him,

“Maybe not your strongest point, love. I’ve come home with a black eye from an English bar fight where, for once, I was genuinely an innocent bystander and I had to keep you from going after half of Small Heath,” you pointed out.

Tommy’s face immediately darkened at the memory of that night and he tried to stutter out some defense of how it was different, but you shook your head no.

“You know that was the night I realized I loved you?” You told him as your own version of the memories flitted through your mind and you tried to distract him from the darker thoughts of his mind.

Your words seemed to catch him off guard and he looked up at you with surprise written on his features.

“Really?” He asked, unsure how else to reply.

You nodded in response and you felt another deep blush creep onto your cheeks. One thing you and Tommy had in common was that vulnerability didn’t come natural to you.

“Would you care to know how I remember that night?” You asked to which he nodded. “It was after a day of shopping with Ada and Esme. You and I had been together for three months at that point, and Ada and Esme were sure we were going to end up getting married, so they wanted to make sure I knew I was part of the family.”

You knew he knew all of this, but you wanted to tell him the whole story of how you had come to the realization and what had happened leading up to the fight.

”After we were done shopping, Esme had John meet us up at The Garrison so we could all have a drink.”

The three of you stumbled through the doors of the pub, giggling over something Ada had said.

John motioned the three of you over to the table he was sitting at, already having ordered a round of drinks for you. It was the first time you had sat outside of the private room the Shelbys had, and the last.

In the middle of the three of you telling John about the new dress Ada had bought, someone who’d had one too many drinks came stumbling over.

“I don’t get you Shelbys. You serve your country in the war then associate with some Irish scum,” he spat out, motioning from John to you.

You had met the other Shelbys while Arthur, Tommy, and John were in France. Polly had needed a bookkeeper for the betting shop and had taken you, even vouching for you when they had returned. After a year of working with them, one incident where you had been used as bait that had gone too far, and you’d been forced to defend yourself, Tommy had decided to make you an official Peaky Blinder. You may not wear your Peaky cap, but the bladed item was also on you. Offers had been made to hide blades in other women’s items of clothing, but you had denied. You had learned how to hide the cap among scarves, shawls, or in your bags and you wanted the official Peaky Blinders symbol.

John had immediately jumped to your defense that night in The Garrison.

“She’s a damn Peaky Blinder and has been for years! She can be trusted as well as any Englishman or woman.” He had defended, standing up to meet the man eye-to-eye as a warning to leave.

“Do you know who you’re talking about?” Ada said next, standing up also, “Irish or not, she’s Tommy’s girl and a Blinder.”

“I don’t give a shit if she’s Tommy’s current whore or not. She’s Irish scum and I don’t want to be in a pub with the likes of her,” the man spat back at Ada.

Esme and you both stood up at this and the rest of the pub had silenced as they watched the scene unfold. Seemingly out of thin air, a couple other Blinders that were present came to stand beside John as he told the man to leave the pub while he could still see the door.

Next thing you knew, Esme had pulled you harshly out of the way as a glass shattered against the wall behind you.

Chaos broke out immediately. Despite you trying to fight against them, a couple patrons or other members of the Peaky Blinders (you weren’t sure which) had tried to drag you, Ada, and Esme back to the office. During the mix, a blow landed on your cheek and you quickly swung back.

The fight seemed to halt immediately after. Even if the guy was brave enough to harass you for being Irish, throw a glass at your head, and fight John over everything, everyone else seemed to realize the grave mistake that had been made in that moment.

No one touched Thomas Shelby’s woman, and there she was with a bruise already evident on her cheek.

John grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck like he was nothing more than a rabid dog, called for you to follow him, and called for Esme and Ada to be walked back to the betting shop and for all the members of the Peaky Blinders present to go there, also.

You walked with John to the canal and were told by John that you ‘could do the honors of killing the bastard’ yourself.

After the deed was done, the two of you had walked back to the betting shop and arrived at the same time as Tommy.

You remembered the worry on his face as he looked for you, the anger that took over when he spotted the black eye, him screaming at everyone to give him an answer as to what had happened and who had harmed you, and the way he had pulled you into his arms in a hug that nearly crushed you.

You remembered the feeling of safety that washed over you once you were in his arms, the feeling of home, and the way you were able to ignore the chaos around you as others explained what exactly had happened that night.

You remembered the way he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you until he had personally looked you over for any injuries.

You remembered the look he had when you told him you’d killed the man. The disappointment over not being the one to do it himself, but the pride in you standing up for yourself.

“I remember being absolutely terrified when it finally clicked in my head what I was feeling. I have never feared you, but I was terrified of ever getting my heart broken again. I knew Esme and Ada had said they were sure we would be married, but my own insecurities came into play, and I was terrified you’d realize how much of a mess I could be and you’d leave me,” you told him, leaned in and kissing him softly for a moment before continuing on, “You never left me. Even when we’ve fought, you never let me feel like you were going to leave me. I learned that no matter what happened, you’d move the earth, heavens, and hells to make sure you always came back to me.”

Tommy remained silent as you finished your story. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but it seemed you had actually managed to make the man speechless.

“I love you, Thomas Michael Shelby,” you muttered as you leaned in to kiss him again, “I meant it the first time I said those words, when I accepted your proposal, when we said them at the altar, when I say them now, and every time in between. You’re my darling boy through it all.”

His hand came up to cup your face and he rested his forehead against yours, “I’ve meant them all, too. You’re mine until the end of time.”

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby x you #Thomas Shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby #Peaky blinders #Cillian Murphy

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weebsinstash · 10 months

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consider; multiverse shenanigans with a spider!reader where they make some offhand comment about how their heat/rut is coming up soon and they'll need some volunteers to cover patrols while they're down and half the society is like 'o damn that sucks, yeah i can swing a tuesday' and the other half is like 'your WHAT is coming up???'

and it turns out that a decent chunk of the multiverse has no idea what a/b/o orientations even are and it somehow just got totally lost in translation until that very second that this was a thing. what do you mean omega???? what the fuck do you mean you just thought i was a really boring smelling beta?????????? y'all motherfuckers are SNIFFING PEOPLE?!?!?!?!

now consider a miguel that is not from an a/b/o verse hearing about this and doing a little research to figure out exactly what a heat/rut is and just getting sucked down a rabbit hole and going feral for the idea that you're going to be in a highly suggestible and vulnerable state for nearly a WEEK and he's going to miss it!!! he didn't get invited!!!! what the fuck!!! the man spends a solid 48 hrs immersed in really bad multiversal porn and comes out the other end hungover and weeping that he nearly missed out on this

so he takes it upon himself to do a little rearranging, some scheduling, some scheming, and lo and behold you find yourself stuck in this crappy half-built nest in nueva york with miguel, who has no real idea how he's supposed to actually perform for you while ur like this and is just making it up as he goes- and totally ignoring the cultural and consent issues he's digging up doing this bc its biology right? so its fine? people in ur universe do this all the time, he has no idea why ur complaining just let him help u out jeez-

Some rando Spiderperson intending to be transphobic: --and they want us to accept everyone as whatever they say they wanna be now, as if men can get pregnant!

Reader, without skipping a beat: what the actual fuck are you talking about, my father carried me and my siblings for 6 months

Miguel is just starting to know you and is actively trying to learn more about you and one day you just, I dunno, you two do a mission together and he gives you praise and you just look at him with a big smile 😊 and your ass straight up PURRS for a few moments and he's just like 🥺❤️ gatito... ❤️

The man sees you talking to Jess and Peter B one day and O'Hara is watching from a distance because he's, awkward and not sure how to approach you, and suddenly his super hearing can pick up someone in the room talking idly about you, or even explaining ABO stuff to another person. "Yeah, see em over there, holding Peter Bs kid? Those Omega always have nurturing instincts. It's cause they're wired to spit out tons of babies. They're the breeders. They even have natutal pheromones to calm down their mates and friends and children" and suddenly Miguel's ears are burning "youre tellin me my darling might wants lots of little babies running around? Fantastic."

Mexican/Irish and also Catholic Miguel who wants one of those STUPID HUGE families where people have at least 6 kids and it's like "oh a typical Omega pregnancy usually has at least two or three babies in one go and theyre shorter than normal human pregnancies huh? Interesting :)"

Some members of the Spider Society are like "why is Miguel kind of lowkey being a dick to me all the time now" oh well its very simple you see, Miguel read your file and found out you're an Alpha and you share this weird connection and also natural biological attraction to HIS lil honeybee and He Hates You Now. Fuck off out his house and don't let him see you talking to his baby or else

He gets really close to you one day, I mean like physically, or hey maybe emotionally too, and he's hugging you and he gets a whiff of your scent and it's something he can't even describe, something that has a carnal biological effect on his where he just wants to keep holding you and hearing your voice like a drug, like it's oxytocin on crack, and suddenly in true scientist fashion he's researching you, your universe, its history, its medicine, its culture.

Can't help but imagine a Miguel who goes full yandere and gives no fucks about doing what he wants for darling and splices his DNA with Alpha DNA so he can officially claim you as a mate, scenting, knotting, and everything. Lyla gives you instructions to meet him in a specific place and it turns out he's been experimenting on himself and he's deep in a rut and suddenly your knees are getting pushed into your chest and you're getting passionately knotted and filled up by a grunting growling purring Miguel who's leaving love bites and kisses all over your skin, just, his size alone would make him hard to get away from, you don't even need to add Alpha instincts and being able to track your pheromones on top of that 😳

Miguel "just let me 'help you as a friend'" O'Hara who tracked when your next heat was going to kick in and maybe even drugged you so it comes at a specific time and he makes it where the two of you are together or even trapped or something when it happens and, here he is, "oh just let me help you, isn't it hurting" but like. We all know it's because he wants to. Like could you even imagine he's, you know, using his fingers and he goes to remove his pants or free himself or whatever and you're just like "no I'll get pregnant" and he just kind of has a Microsoft error window in his brain because it's like. Oh you'll get almost DEFINITELY pregnant? Guaranteed? You're trying to tell the man you dont want to and instead at least internally he's like "promise? 👉👈"

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere stuff #sinprompts #miguel o'hara x reader

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the---hermit · 3 months

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17|01|2024

Today my philosophy studying continues, my goal of catching up with the recorded lectures I missed is all done, except for one additional lecture that the professor has uploaded for us online. Tomorrow I should get that done and also start to read the last book I have to study for this exam. I did struggle to focus especially in a couple of sections of these lectures, but I am happy about everything I have done.

calm hobbit winter activities and productivity:

read first thing in the morning

answered to a lot of texts ugh

finished the recorded lecture I started working on yesterday

worked on the second to last recorded lecture

planned my study tasks for tomorrow

daily Irish practice on duolingo and continued working on my notebook of key phrases and terms

continued my tma relistening (because I realized that tomorrow the magnus protocol is dropping and I haven't finished my relistening, I surely won't be done by tomorrow, but I am trying my best)

📖: A Day Of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon

🎵: Honor And Vengence by Shawn James (yes i am putting the whole album here, because somehow i missed this came out and now i am obsessed, it's so good, the music, the storytelling, his voice ajdfoiaw go listen to this, i will not shut up about it for months)

#studyblr #studyinspo #uniblr #university #journal #journaling #studying #productivity #calm hobbit winter #notebook #study space #knife gang #mine #the---hermit

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satureja13 · 24 days

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(There is a Poll below) Vlad is still playtesting. And while he took a walk through the village and admired Tiny Can's work, it slowly went dark, the stands closed and the folks went to the Lion's Pride Inn.

He heard the music from the inside. 'The Dublin Pub Crawl' by The Irish Rovers was playing.

'We all went in to Kitty McGee's for we're a jolly crew We all went in to Kitty McGee's to have a drink or two Kitty McGee's, in Dublin town upon the crawl A hell of a time was had by all, down where the beer and whiskey flew'

He had nowhere to go and so he went in. Maybe someone takes pity on him and gives him some food? He already felt a bit weak on his legs. And his job at the sculptor only started early next morning... There are so many known faces here! Ms. Coombes, their former teacher, Travis (Jeb and Ji Ho's Roadie) and Uncle Stefan, who raised Jack. But they are just NPCs Tiny Can created and none of them recognized him.

As soon as Gia, the bartender, saw Vlad, she stopped him. Gia: "I'm sorry. You can't enter as long as your status is unclear. Go to the castle after you got paid tomorrow and ask for an audience to talk to the Queen about your status. You can sleep in the shack behind the Inn and I'll care for your horse after my shift. But that's all I can do for you."

And so Vlad went over to the shack...still hungry. Let's hope Diablo finds a better place for the night. At least he can eat some grass and would't have to go to sleep hungry. And then this cute - but somehow really delicious looking bunny approached Vlad... should he...? It's just a game. But the thought of eating a bunny makes him uncomfortable. He does eat meat, but killing the animal himself is a whole different thing. But he's so hungry. And he'll have to survive the night and the next day working before he gets paid...

Vlad tried to escape this situation by going to (try to) sleep. But when he stood up and stepped inside the shack, he saw stars and almost fell unconscious. He has no choice...

In the meantime, Gia was caring for Diablo. The way she looks at him. Is she having the same thoughts about Diablo as Vlad has about the bunny? Ö.ö'

Phew. She finally leaves the stable. But Diablo decides it's better to stay awake and alert. No one will eat him. No matter how 'useless' they think he is!

Gia: "You weren't about to eat that bunny, were you?" Vlad: "Uhm..."

Gia: "You really must be very hungry then." And she gave him a plasma fruit! A HFN for Vlad and the bunny ^^'

This will help him (and the bunny) to survive the night and the next day. After he had the plasma fruit (that really tasted like a real one outside of the game), he lay on the straw in the shack and pondered about his ingame experiences so far. Even though many events here were upsetting and annoying, they still were managable and there had been no moment where he wanted to scream 'OUT!'. So Tiny Can improved a lot. And of course the Therapy Game will be annoying and hard. They all know that. Therapy is no rose garden after all and as far as he can speak for the others, they are determined to change their lives for the better and are willing to work hard for it. And he will help them by testing this game and make sure it's safe for them. He decided to playtest also the following day and then report back to Saiwa. And then he fell asleep under the stars that shone through the missing shingles of the shack and the bunny watched over his sleep...

TMI: Even though Vlad got killed by the Killer Bunny once, he isn't resentful. Vlad's sweet memories with Bunnies: on their trip to Henford and at Beltane.

The situation with hungry Vlad and the bunny reminds me of some quests in games that gave me a hard time. There was one in World of Warcraft where I had to use torture on a prisioner to get information. It's many years ago. I did it but I still feel uncomfortable about this. Killing when I get attacked ingame is ok for me, but this - I don't know. I play computer games for over 40 years now and I am still not dulled ^^' Do other players even have such thoughts? Let's find out:

You are also very welcome to leave a comment with your thoughts.

This is a very enthralling topic for me these days while we explore the Therapy Game and there will be more situations like this. I'm so curious how the Boys will deal with them. It's also very different from other games because the Boys act as themselves and it really feels like they are a part of their ingame surroundings.

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

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spnfanficpond · 2 months

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Weekly Pond Newsletter

It's Daylight Saving Time again in the US! (It's coming for the rest of you soon enough.) Yes, it's that time of year when we lose an hour and all get cranky and have more heart attacks and car accidents. I wonder if we could Tulpa DST away, somehow? Like, if we all just thought about it hard enough all at the same time.... Of course, arranging the "at the same time" part of that would be a nightmare because of, you know, DST and time zones and such.

Old Business:

Poll results - Last week, we asked you all if you would be interested in learning about typesetting or fanbinding, and the answer was an overwhelming YES! We will keep this in mind and work on making this happen!

Monthly Prompt - The monthly prompt post went up and it's all about Sky and Water! Tag us in anything this inspires you to create so we can signal boost it!

Angel Fish Awards - The post for February went up, and the winner of the raffle was @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes!

SPN Rewatch: Fanfic Edition - We had another great chat, this time about the last two episodes in season 1! Check out the Archive masterlist for links to the docs for each episode to read all about it. Remember, if these ideas inspire you to write anything, let us know so we can signal boost it!

#TweetFicTues - Last week's prompts were:

New Business:

Steve Carlson Stageit today - Later today, Steve Carlson will be doing an online concert on Stageit! Click here for more info and to get tickets!

Conventions - AHBL is happening right now in Melbourne, and Creation Burbank is next weekend! So much new content from our cast! If you're attending a con and want to meet up with other Pondies, we have channels in our Discord server for that. Check them out!

Fishing For Treasures - Next weekend is FFT weekend here at the Pond, and the theme for March is CROSSOVER FICS! Drop your links in either the FFT channel in the Discord server or our inbox here by Friday, Midnight, EDT!

Manta Ray chat - Admin Michelle will be spending some time in the Discord server next weekend. Keep an eye out for announcements with the day and time!

St Patrick's Day is next weekend! Give us your favorite leprechaun or otherwise Irish-related fics in the replies and reblogs so we all can celebrate!

POLL - Since so many folks are interested in typesetting and/or fanbinding, and these seem like topics that would require video, would you all be okay with Zoom as a platform for these tutorials?

(Divider by @glygriffe!)

That's all for this week! To see all Pond events, and also other SPN-related things like conventions and online concerts, check out our Google calendar! Click here for a static view in Eastern US/Canada time (desktop only, no mobile app access, sadly), and click here to add our calendar to your own Google calendar! We try to keep it as up-to-date as possible. If there's something you want to see on the calendar that's not there (maybe a convention we missed, cast birthdays, or something similar), send us an ASK and let us know!

Hope you have a great week! - From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester and @heavenssexiestangel!

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inconspicious-random-thoughts · 2 months

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During Vaggie and Charlie's visit to Heaven, I don't think there was anything indicating that the city had a beach or anything like an ocean like where we saw Lilith at the end of S1. Granted, we didn't explore ALL of Heaven, obviously, but it still makes me wonder. Is Lilith really staying in Heaven? I wonder if maybe she's actually being housed on Earth, or specifically in Eden, Adam's former domain on Earth. 'Cuz Lute didn't say that Lilith was staying in Heaven as part of her deal with Adam. What do you think?

I love being asked about things Hazbin related. Thank you! Sorry it took a week for me to answer, I been legit sick for a a solid month now from a cold. The lingering coughing hasn't been dreadful but the pure exhaustion I feel (While working too) just left me completely drained. I wanted to answer you while Im feeling at least moderately alive.

Before the question I didn't really put too much thought about Lilith location. I took it as point blank, Lute approached Lilith is lounging in Heaven.

I do like the idea of it being Eden but I am force to lean on the end scene is Heaven for a number of reasons.

From the same universe, Helluvah Boss, it basically a big no-no to go on Earth. On certain beings are allowed (or meant to, it get bypassed) to travel on Earth. I sincerely doubt an exterminator Angel or ANY sinner would be able to free move between realms to Earth. Sinners, had their chance on Earth, there's no return. Exterminators have a very specific purpose, so I doubt they would be granted any access as well.

If we look pass that however, and Eden has some cloaking and impassable shield surrounded it in a way to preserve it from further intreation of humans, similar but not really to a pocket dimension .....maaaaybe. Maybe Lilith gets a pass as she was created and made to be there. I can low key seeing being a gilded cage to keep her in resulting in a deal that was made.

But I'm incline its an unexplored off screen Heaven the viewer didn't get to see. Heaven is meant to cater eternal happiness reward for the pure souls. Some souls really love the beach so there's got to be some beaches for those souls to find eternal peace in.

-I personally dislike the beach unless its at night. My Irish heritage fair skin cant handle the direct sunlight with no natural shade to retreat in.

The main evidence its Heaven in my opinion is the skyline. It's the same we see when meeting St. Peter. The same pastel coloring and mainly the beams of arching light that look structural-?

Granted, if the 'structural' beams of light are a way to cloak from human eyes or just Heavenly dimension, it isn't a stretch that they may surround Eden too. I really like the Eden idea....its like full circle thing, Everything started in Eden so it be fun that it gets more involvement. I don't think that's the case, but I hope it is despite that.

Now, the question is, was it Lilith that Lute was truly speaking to. That lies the question. I keep flip flopping if its Eve or if it is in fact Lilith. It isn't too far fetched that Eve would be near idental, taking over Lilith role as Adam wife. Eve would be very motivated to make a deal to be heaven when being tricked into performing the first sin, making her a sinner. Eve actually playing the role as Adam wife, I can see Adam took pity on her and plead her case. Or even hide her himself in what you you guess, Eden. It would be perfect. As Lute put it, "Adam dead, your deal is done." Which can be taken in multiple ways including that Lilith had a deal wanting Adam dead. But to fit in this scenario, it was Adams deal with her. Not Heavens. 'Lilith' didn't really react to Lute as she spoke, sitting still and listening. We we saw her face she was rather impassive. She only shown reaction-displeasure when Lute said the name Lilith. The way Lute said Lilith seemed a little too empshised. Which may be for the audience if they somehow missed all the Lilith portrayed to realized the new character is. OR its Lute putting emphasis to alert Eve on the upcoming role she needs to play to continue her deal with Lute.

I'm still undecided if its Lilith or Eve. The necklace in the end threw me off. I didn't know why by I way hyper focused on it on my first watch from some reason. I guess my subconscious realized Lilith is always shown to wear pearls (I need to rewatch it to see all the portraits have the pearls or the black diamond necklace. It seem the show purposely wouldn't let us see her hands to determine if there was a wedding ring or not.

The whole ending scene really threw things in the air.

I find Eve lack involvement in the universe so far very suspicious. I think she will be a very key figure coming up. I also think Adam will be revive as a sinner and still play a major role.

The whole lack of Lilith and Eve (and Roo which I believe is the big bad and Alastor contractor)whereabouts is suspicious and its going to hit us hard. Adam is involved in it. I fairly certain he the one that proposed the idea of exterminations. Like, why was Heaven so concern about an uprising? WHO brought that idea to their heads?Seriously, that been bothering me ALOT. I'm positive the first man was manipulated to mull on that idea and nudge to bring that proposal to Sera after something happening in Hell that was orchestrated to make it look like unrest and uprising in Heaven eyes.

The same group of people (Eve, Adam, Lilith, Alastor {Lucifer and Charlie, Heaven involved being puppeted}) is basically trying to puppeteer each other trying to pull the strings, as much as they try gain control, but in reality they are just playing right into Roo plan.

I am so rambling, because that's what I do. I need to rewatch the series to confirm some of these thoughts with clues. I'm sure there many plot holes what I rambled so far. I'm usually multitasking when I rewatch so I forget to look for my little clues.

If the ending scene is in fact Lilith, I am certain she didn't leave to willingly but is some type of hostage to an agreement. I think Lucifer knows whats up too. (His wife in Heaven! Ha!) He seem way to tentative and hesitant speaking to Charlie on the phone about meeting up with Heaven while looking at the family portrait. As in, He was backed into a corner and basically had to agree with Heaven in a newer deal that they kept Lilith hostage (but she be taken care of, promise! where Heaven!) but Charlie can remain with him. He to nervous to have another meeting that involved his daughter who kept in the dark about the deal that caused Lilith absence.

Never once we hear that Lilith is "Missing, gone, divorced" Especially from Lucifer. Just that Heaven took everything from him and Charlie all he had left.

Side note, I love how everything Lucifer said in episode 5 came true. He was right about Heaven not listening. In a smaller easier to miss part. In "More than Anything." he sange "In the end, I won't lose it all again, you are the only thing worth fighting for." He kept that promise by showing up to save Charlie in battle and fighting for her.

The only time Lilith absence is Charlie saying "She off doing something important I'm sure." (Fulfilling a corherced bargain to insure Charlie safety perhaps?)

She did mention that her dad and mom split. But that can be her assumption or something Lucifer said to explain things easier to a much younger Charlie and he already blamed himself for failing Lilith and having her absent in their lives. Or maybe Lucifer said and meant it literally"Your mother is separated from us." but young Charlie just took "separated" as in Lilith marriage with Lucifer. And Lucifer just rolled with it. But Lucifer still clearly love Lilith with still having that ring on his finger and I think Lilith is still in love with Lucifer. They are just literally separated by realms not in marriage.

I think I rambled way more then what you asked for. Ha! apologies I hope its somewhat coherent and not jumbled like they are in my brain and was at least found interesting.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin theory #hazbin thoughts #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin eden #hazbin eve #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin lilith #lilith morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin first humans #hazbin heaven

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nicomundthered · 1 year

Text

To Be Hunted

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

warnings: angst with happy ending, animal death briefly mentioned.

summary: from the prompt- Arthur teaching the reader (his girlfriend) to hunt.

word count: 5,217

a/n: repost from ao3.

Masterlist

It was late July, and hot as the fire Uncle just crudely pissed beside. Everyone sat miserably waiting for the scouting party to return. Dutch decided it was best to move camps, needing to be closer to some sort of wealth, so the ‘men of the camp’ were out searching for greener pastures. Or really just some place the gang had yet to tap dry.

You had been riding with said gang for the past eight months.

After your life didn’t quite end up as you planned, you kinda stuck with the mindset of: this world is rough so you gotta be tough.

Which really had already built you up too much. In truth you were found walking aimlessly in the Heartlands, after your horse had collapsed, dead.

If it hadn't been for Arthur being kind enough to take you to the gang, who knows where you’d be by now.

The fact was nobody gave damn about you, until he found you.

And you’ve enjoyed your stay for the most part. You had food, a place to sleep, and probably the most beneficial you had constant protection. However, you didn’t want to sound ungrateful or spoiled or anything, but Dutch was very protective of the ladies, and did not want them involved with much of anything. A little pickpocketing here, a little playing a damsel in distress there. But that was really it.

As a general rule he wanted all of you doing the domestic work, while the men got their hands dirty.

He meant it nobly you supposed, but for a woman like yourself, it didn’t sit right. You missed doing things, and going places. Even if it were risky or out of your comfort zone. You just felt like you could do, and perhaps be more.

That was all until you started going steady with Arthur. Then little, by little, you had picked up more responsibilities. Small, unimportant things if you looked at the big picture, but better than cleaning Bill’s soiled union suit.

You mainly helped steal livestock. Always late into the night, and always with Arthur by your side. And on the very rarest of occasions you’ve helped with some homestead robberies. They were a little more intense, and you could tell that they made Arthur a nervous wreck.

He had given you one of his revolvers and had shown you all the basics, but you still weren't great. If practice makes perfect, then how the hell were supposed to learn?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard horses and laid your eyes on Arthur leading the group. His freshly cleaned blue shirt was brown with mud and his coat was missing.

They hitched their horses, all looking very irritated, and seemed to be avoiding Arthur’s gaze.

“What the hell happened?” You called out while making your way to them, eyes worriedly searching Arthur for injuries.

“Damn O’driscoll’s.” Arthur stormed past you infuriated. He made his way to his tent and threw his hat onto his bed. Then he kicked the side of his trunk while muttering all kinds of things, then sat down with his hands in his hair, and his elbows resting on his legs.

You were frozen to the spot, not sure what you should or shouldn't do. This was, for sure, uncharted territory. Arthur didn't lose his cool.

Hosea walked up and stood beside you. “We were ambushed. Those damn Irish bastards somehow knew...If it hadn’t been for his quick thinkin’ I reckon we’d all be dead right about now.” He gently patted your shoulder and left you alone.

Your relationship was still pretty new. You’ve known that you’ve liked him since meeting him but it didn’t get serious until a few weeks ago.

And boy did it get serious, fast.

At first he seemed reluctant. He liked you, but you had to keep convincing him that you wanted the relationship. And then, after some questioning, and maybe even an ultimatum, he had told you about Mary and the damage that she’d done...and then, then he told you about Isaac.

You're not saying that you fully understood. You couldn’t, you had never had nor lost a child. But it helped you recognize and understand certain behaviors and tendencies of his. When he’d pull away from you, or why it took him so long to kiss you. Or, sometimes why he needed space. He was, at times, the most self loathing person that you'd ever met. It didn't necessarily hurt your relationship but it did make it, at times very challenging.

It happened the first time, a couple of days after he told you about his son. In a way, the confession freed him. He touched you more, albeit in private, but that was fine by you.

Then he asked if you wanted to take a trip to Strawberry.

You were excited, not having left camp in what felt like months. He bought you dinner, and offered to buy you a new outfit, but you declined. You hoped to soon earn your own money and buy your own clothes. He worked too hard for the gang to waste his money on a dress, when people in the camp were hungry.

He was anxious about something, and you weren't sure what it was until he nervously rubbed the back of his neck and stated that it was getting late, and that he could buy a room if you wanted.

You blushed and nodded ‘yes’ that you wanted to stay. He moved so quickly to pay that he almost tripped over his chair.

He grabbed your hand, his palm was uncharacteristically sweaty, and the other couldn’t stop fidgeting with his collar. As he led you up the stairs into the small yet cozy room.

It was your first time sharing a bed and you were worried it would be awkward. Especially because of how different he was acting.

You both stripped down to your underclothes. He complimented you and told you how beautiful you were. You both got under the covers, you were too worried that you were somehow pressuring him into this.

But in reality he was just waiting for you to make the next move.

The room was cold and Arthur was warm, and before either of you knew it you were snuggled closely, drifting off to sleep.

You woke to the sun creeping in from around the dark drapes. Disoriented at first until you felt his strong arms holding you firm against his body. You turned slightly, just enough to look at his face.

He looked so peaceful, something you weren't used to seeing. Dutch was gonna work him to death. And that was the thought that urged you forward. You softly kissed his brow, and then placed one on either side of his slightly parted mouth.

His eyes opened slowly and when they locked with yours, he could no longer hold himself back. His mouth explored, and his full concentration was solely on you.

The only way to describe that morning was, you, for the first time in your life felt complete.

Ever since your trip to Strawberry your relationship was different. He had developed an appetite that only you could satisfy. He still wasn't keen on public affection, he just wasn't comfortable with all the wondering eyes.

So you were the one that insisted on letting the camp know he was yours. It made you proud, and you knew that deep down Arthur was thankful for your boldness. So you’d grab his hand or reach up to kiss him anytime you felt that he needed it, or whenever you did, it didn't matter who it was in front of.

Though, you were still not sharing a tent. You wanted to, but didn’t want to push him into anything he wasn’t ready for.

That was the imbalance of your relationship. He sometimes wouldn’t talk, and sometimes neither would you.

As you watched him sitting on his cot, you realized that for as long as you've known him, you couldn’t recall ever seeing him like this. You didn’t know what he needed, and you didn’t want to make the wrong move. He truly was fragile. More so than anyone knew, anyone but you.

You slowly walked over to him, his head still hung low. “Arthur, you ok?”

He looked up hesitantly, the untrained eye wouldn't have noticed, but you saw the extra moisture in his eyes.

He plastered on a fake half smile and said “Would you want to go hunting with me tomorrow?”

You were taken aback and felt your eyebrows pinch together. “Arthur?...”

You gasped as he suddenly reached forward and grabbed both of your hands. “I just really think we should go hunting.”

“O..ok. Whatever you want to do tomorrow sounds good to me.” You tried to smile, but you felt it fall flat. Something wasn't right, and you were more than worried about him.

He stood abruptly “Good, we’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He kissed you on the top of your head and pulled you into a fierce hug that almost winded you. Then as quick as it happened, he let go, and walked across the camp to Charles.

You couldn’t sleep. Anxiety found its place in your chest, your breath was short, and your heartbeat felt a few beats quicker.

The hours ticked by slowly until the moon disappeared and the sun lit the sky a soft pink.

You sensed his presence and heard his footsteps, before you heard him gently calling your name. You turned over slowly pretending you had just had a good night's sleep.

He looked fully prepared for the day. Hat and coat were already on, and you looked over to your horses only to see that they both were saddled and ready.

“You about ready to go?”

You stood slowly, feeling probably how you looked, tired. When you studied his features from under the brim of his hat, you noticed that he didn’t look much better.

“Let me change and eat something.”

“Here.” He passed you a can of biscuits.

You looked at him a little angry at his impatience.

“Stew ain’t done yet, and I want to get out of here before Miss Grimshaw gets mad at me for takin’ ya.”

You nodded accepting both the biscuits and the explanation.

You wore your favorite outfit. It was a black buttoned up top with dark jeans that you liked to tuck into your black boots. It matched perfectly with your black hat that had a green ribbon around the base. You liked to call it your ‘outlaw’ uniform, because you always wore it when you were ‘outlawing’ (plus it made you feel badass), but Arthur hated that.

He hated what he felt that he made you into one. He hadn’t though, you would have become one, one way or another, either that or died. It was truly inevitable.

When you met him at your horses, he looked you up and down, a not so subtle frown on his face. He had grown to hate the outfit. It wasn’t that you didn't look great, it was the implications of it.

“I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to ruin any of my other clothes.”

He exhaled out of his nose and moved his horse forward, not even waiting for you to mount.

You stroked your horse lovingly, stuck one foot into the stirrups and then swung the other leg over until you were sitting high on his back.

You didn’t rush to catch up to Arthur. If he wanted to ride with you he’d have to slow down to your pace. You were gonna savor every second away from those annoying people you called your family. You weren't going to let his strange mood ruin your fun.

After a few minutes he seemed annoyed that you weren't beside him, so he turned around making a big circle and until you were riding alongside him.

It was then you noticed that he had two bows and what seemed like an excessive amount of arrows. You felt a thrill, more than a little excited to learn something new.

He led you to a spot not too far away from camp, maybe forty five minutes. And if you considered your slow pace, not far at all.

He offered to help you off of your horse, the first sign of your Arthur that you've seen in what felt like a long time. You accepted his hand as he helped you down.

He smiled at you as his hands naturally found your hips. He looked like he wanted to say something but instead he reached behind him and handed you the bow. “Charles made this for ya.”

“For me?” You looked at the dark wood with little vine-like carvings. “Wow, it's so beautiful.”

He swallowed thickly, and his eyes wandered not being able to look at you for too long. “You can thank him when we get back”.

“Oh I definitely will. I’ve always wanted my own bow.”

He looked back to you, the same strange expression on his handsome face.

“We’ll follow the sun a bit.” He pulled out his binoculars and looked ahead. “There’s always deer around these parts.”

“Should I be taking notes?” You were trying to poke fun to lighten the dark mood, but either he didn’t hear the humor in your voice, or maybe he didn't think it was funny.

“Nah, you've got a good memory.”

He then taught you how to hide your horses, but to never hitch them. That way they'd be able to come when you whistled. Which was very important when you had a large animal carcass.

Then he led you, on foot, through some trees, until you came upon an area of dense brush. He crouched and you copied him.

“Alright. Now I’m gonna teach you about tracking.”

You nodded like the diligent student you were. You liked ‘instructor’ Arthur. He was demanding and intense. It turned you on…

“You even listenin’ to me?”

You blushed and ducked your head. “Of course I am.”

“Then what did I just finish sayin’?” He stood, cocked his hips to the side, and then placed both hands on his gun belt.

You stood and tilted your head in an attempt of defiance.. “You were talkin’ about tracking.”

“What about it?”

After your long pause, he grew slightly frustrated. He took off his hat and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his face and back of his neck. Then he messed with the fold of his hat before placing it back on his head.

He did the action to calm himself down. You suspected that it stopped him from fussing at you.

“Look, if you ain’t gonna take this seriously…”

“I want to learn.”

“Ok then.” He went on to explain how to track, and all the things you could find that animals left behind. Fur, droppings, and all kinds of fun stuff like that.

After tracking for a few minutes, he found a trail. He expertly followed it, speaking lowly, but still giving you plenty of pointers along the way.

Then he looked back at you and brought one finger to his lips. You quietly caught up. There were five deer, spread far enough apart to see individually, peacefully grazing on grass.

He whispered so softly you could barely hear him. He explained how to pick the right one to kill. You wanted to make sure it wasn’t sick, or had a fawn nearby.

He grabbed his bow, briefly showing you how to hold it, grabbed an arrow, and stood. Then he pulled the arrow back with his strong arm, gave a quick whistle, and when the deer looked up he let go. Killing the animal instantly.

The whole process was a bit sad to you. But the way that Arthur handled it, was the most humane way to do it. You needed to eat, the deer was food, and Arthur didn’t let it suffer.

You had never killed anything so seeing the animal laying there was a different experience. You ate animal every time you ate stew, and to eat stew someone had to do the exact thing you had just witnessed.

It was something that you’d get better at, you’d already felt less squeamish the more you looked at the dead animal.

“If we come across some more before it gets too late, I’ll teach you how to skin it, and the cleanest way to get its meat.”

Before you could protest the morbid idea, not quite trusting your adjusting stomach to go that far, he whistled loudly and after a few seconds you heard his horse galloping.

He took the arrow out, wiped the blood off, and placed the deer on the back of his horse. You went ahead and whistled for your horse as well, for some reason you wanted them to stay together. Then you both lead them to a secluded area, so you could continue your hunt.

“Ok, this next one is all you.” He gestured for you to take the lead.

You gulped. You had paid attention, you truly did. But having to remember things on the spot made you slightly nervous. That and the fact that Arthur wasn't himself. He was more intimidating and serious and that made you more than a little anxious. You didn't want to disappoint him.

At first you were doing great. After a few minutes of looking for droppings, you had found some, and that made the trail pretty clear. So you followed and followed, until you lost it completely.

He was positive and encouraged you. Afterall, this was your first time doing so. Frankly, he just seemed happy that you’d remembered some of his lessons.

Then a couple of hours later, you had lost count on how many animal turds you had inspected, you had finally found a small herd.

You smiled back at him, and as he caught up looking at what you'd found, he briefly let a smile escape through whatever was going through his head.

“Now what?” You stood close to him and whispered.

He nodded to your bow, which you pulled out, and went a step ahead and retrieved an arrow as well.

He stood behind you, so close that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. He gently placed your arms where they needed to go pressed his body firmly against yours, pulling the bow back.

You held your breath as you felt his strong arms guide you, and when you felt his warm-calloused hands grip your hand and then your hip, you couldn’t help it, a little moan escaped as you looked up at him.

Unfortunately for you, this was at the same time he chose to release your arrow. It flew and fell a good ways away from the deer, causing the herd to disperse.

“Goddamnit!” He yelled.

You jumped at the unexpected outburst.

“Why can’t you just pay attention!?” He threw your bow down and started walking the opposite way, back towards the horses.

You stood frozen for a moment, and tried to understand what had just happened. Then when you were over the initial shock you picked up your bow and followed.

When you caught up you walked backwards so that you were facing him. “What the hell was that Arthur?” You were angry and your voice let it show.

His brows were pinched tightly and the brim of his hat was pushed down lower than usual.

He ignored you, and continued walking with long strides.

“Hey.” He didn’t stop.

“Hey!” You stopped in front of him, causing him to run into you before he looked up and stopped.

“What?” He had the nerve to grumble at you.

You took a deep breath and calmed down before speaking. “Look, I don’t know what's going on with you…”

“It’s nothin’.” He cut you off sharply.

“Well it's obviously something.” You took off your hat so he could see your expressions more clearly. “I know that I ain’t a natural or nothin’ but you don’t have to treat me like an idiot. This was my first time, and you know that.”

“You were distracted. You weren’t even paying any attention.” His voice was harsh and absolute. His eyes avoided yours.

“Yeah that's cause this guy who i've been courting had his big strong arms on me.” You said in a southerbell voice, while fanning yourself with your hat dramatically. You regretted it immediately when he didn't even smirk.

“Look I’m not going to apologize that I'm attracted to you.” You took a step forward getting just in his space. “And when you put your hands on me, I think of all the things those hands have done and can do.”

“A lot of killing.” He murmured

“Yeah...that’s true. But that ain’t quite what I was thinkin’.” You stood on your toes and kissed him.

It was the first time he hadn’t eagerly responded to one of your kisses, and an icey fear shot through your veins.

You took a giant step back. It all made sense now. “Are you trying to break up with me?” Your voice sounded dead to your own ears.

That got his attention. His whole face crumbled, and your Arthur came back. He took off his hat so that you could see him as he could you. “God no. How could you even ask that?”

“Well you seemed to be pretty annoyed with me.”

“I...I ain’t annoyed.” He sighed and shook his head.

You placed your hands on your hips, and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m really not.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“It’s not an easy thing for me to explain.”

Your face cooled down and your hands dropped by your side. “It’s ok we got time.” You looked up at him pleadingly. “Talk to me, please.”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head. He knew that he had to come clean, but he wasn’t sure he could do it. He looked around for a comfortable spot. “Fine. Let's go sit under that tree.”

He walked you over to a smooth boulder, under a big tree. You sat down side by side, thighs barely touching.

He placed his hands in his lap, as his fingers played with a tear in his pants.

You wanted him to speak first, no you needed him to speak first. Even though he said he wasn't ending things with you, it still felt like it. So you waited and waited, until he finally cleared his throat a few times and started to speak.

“Yesterday, when we was out lookin’ for a new camp.” He paused and worked his jaw a few times. “Everything was fine one minute. Bill was saying all these ignorant things and Hosea was schoolin’ him…” His eyes squinted at the memory. “And then out of nowhere, we were surrounded by O’driscoll’s.”

You laid your hand on his thigh, and without a second thought he grabbed a hold of it tightly. You felt a little less scared at the reassurance. His hand in your hand made the world feel right again.

“Dutch froze. He looked so shocked and angry. Like he couldn’t believe this was happenin’ to him.” His gaze was on the horizon, it looked as though he was reliving every detail.

“And then what happened?” You asked as your thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hand.

“He, he pulled out his guns and just started shootin’ em’.”

Your eyes widened. “Without trying to talk to them first?”

He shook his head. “He didn’t even try.”

“That doesn't sound like Dutch.”

“No it doesn't.” He sighed heavily. “Everyone but Dutch ran for cover. He just stood there in the middle of the field. Guns blazing. He looked insane, I don’t think he even blinked. I told everyone to cover him, while Charles and I went around them and flanked the bastards.”

“I’m glad at least you had a plan.” You said proudly. You knew that it wasn't important to him, but you always felt that he would make a good leader. He had something most leaders didn't, he actually cared about people.

He gave a humorless chuckle. “I suppose.”

“Why did you show up so dirty?”

“I came up on a group of them. I started shooting and then this sonofabitch tackled me from behind. We fell off of a small cliff and landed in mud.”

You panicked slightly. “You said you were ok.”

He turned, his piercing eyes stared straight into yours. “I’m fine...I know that we only fell for a few seconds but, but for the first time in my life...I was scared I was gonna die.”

“Cause he…”

“Cause I was afraid I couldn’t get back to you.” His eyes welled with tears and he quickly looked away in frustration. “Damnit, I’ve just never felt this way before, and I don't really know what i'm saying or how to say it.”

You sat quietly trying to take the confession in. Did you make him weak?

“...and if all of us would have died. What would have happened to y'all back at camp?”

“We would have figured something out.”

“None of you can even hunt.”

Then all the pieces fell into place, and the picture was clear. “Arthur I’m a grown woman..”

“And you're mine to look out for.” He squinted like he didn’t like how that sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No you are right. I am yours. Always. But you don't have to always look out for me.”

“I do though.” He turned fully towards you taking both your hands, reminding you of yesterday. “Look if I die out there, doing god knows what.”

You violently shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes.

“It, it could happen. And we both need to face them facts. If I were to not come back...I, I can’t die thinkin’ that you was left alone, not knowing how to defend yourself, or how to find food.” He leaned into your palm as you wiped a tear. “I ain’t strong enough for that. It scares the living shit out of me.”

He returned the favor and wiped some of your falling tears. “Don’t worry about me like that. I’d figure it out, you know I would.”

“I can’t help it. Leaving you would be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, and knowing that I made you an outlaw. Knowin’ that you couldn’t find honest work, or an honest husband because of me...”

“It ain’t your fault. You saved me.”

He pulled you to him. Unable to continue. He just wanted to forget everything.

The hug was fierce and you held on for dear life, and you heard him whisper, mostly to himself “and you saved me.” He was anchoring you at this very moment, without it you don’t think you would have been strong enough to stay upright.

“And I couldn’t help but think that I never would have gotten the chance.”

“What chance?”

He pulled back so he could look at you. “To tell ya how much you mean to me.”

You smiled. “I would have known.”

“I love you.”

You smiled wide. Your whole body felt warm and your heartbeat quickened. “I love you too Arthur. So very much.”

He kissed you. It wasn’t gentle but it also wasn’t rough. A perfect balance.

He kissed you until you felt his ridgid shoulders soften, and all the stress of yesterday disappear.

He looked in your eyes and spoke softly. “I’m so lucky.”

“Make me a promise then, please.”

“Anything.” He responded resolutely.

“If you ever have something like that going on in your mind you talk to me. Ok?”

His eyes hardened a little.

“I’ve spent the last twenty four hours worried about you. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn't eat. I even left the biscuits you gave me back at camp. And if you would have just told me how serious this was to you I would have been a better student.”

He smiled. “You were a fine student. I was just a little impatient is all.”

“No I most certainly wasn't. I was far too distracted by the teacher. Even if he was a little impatient.” You winked playfully.

He smirked.

You turned serious again. “Promise me. Please?”

“Alright I promise. But you have to know by now I ain’t an easy man to live with. Sometimes I bottle up and I’m not exactly sure why. And I'm definitely not used to being loved...It feels amazin’ don't get me wrong, I just ain’t used to.”

“Then I guess I got to work on you then.”

Grinning at your playful tone, he started kissing you again.

It was much, much later before you both returned to camp. The sky was purple and stars were becoming visible. The campfire was blazing, and, thankfully, the night air was much cooler.

You brought back two deer carcasses. Mr. Pearson was very happy and began prepping them right away.

After dropping off the deer, Arthur grabbed a beer, while you walked over to your bedroll. You packed all of your stuff and just as you stood, Karen walked up with a knowing look about her.

“And where do you think you're going?”

You stood proudly. “Arthur and I are sharing a cot.”

“About damn time.” She laughed while sashaying away, looking for trouble.

On your way to his wagon you passed by Charles, who was carrying a load of firewood.

“Oh Charles, thank you so much for the bow. It is the most beautiful one i've ever seen.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. Arthur made me build it so fast I was worried I wouldn’t have time to add the details.”

“It’s perfect, honest. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome. Anytime you need something like that let me know. All I ask is to give me some time in advance.”

You chuckled. “Ok no problem.”

You made your way over to his wagon and paused while looking at all of his stuff. It wasn’t the first time you studied his pictures, but it was the first time you noticed Mary's was missing.

At the start of a vulgar campfire song you looked over to your strange family. Arthur was probably on his second beer by now, and judging by the way he was enjoying himself it would be far from his last.

You sat a few of your beloved trinkets down on the table next to his flower in a jar. Set a picture of your parents next to the one of his mother, and placed your bow next to his in the corner. Then you shoved the rest of your things, and your clothes under his cot. You’d have to get some storage of your own soon.

You stood back admiring your work. Everything of yours looked somehow better mingled with his.

Satisfied with how everything looked, you made your way over to the campfire. He saved you a seat, greeted you with a big slightly drunken smile, and offered you a fresh beer.

After a few bars and a few beers, you found yourself happily singing along.

----------

#arthur morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #my fics

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godeaterazathoth · 10 months

Text

Issues I have with ikevamp

That I’m venting here because they won’t leave my skull

*Content warning, we’re talking about men in the past, they did some bad stuff*

Part 1, historical inaccuracies

I’m I history nut so this really gets to me, since I know the deep details of these peoples lives.

The timeline, ok so the game takes place in 18th France, correct me if I’m wrong but I think it is in the second empire (1852-1870) considered there is a noble class, yet you can clearly see the Eiffel Tower which was completed in 1889, there is no mention of the 1889 exposition, so it must be after the tower had become permanent, by then the 3rd republic was around, if we are in the republic the Count wouldn’t be called that by the npcs at all the parties he goes to, no matter which we’re in, NOBODY mentions Napoleon III at, NOT EVAN HIS UNCLE (WHOSE SOMEHOW BECAME CASS CONSCIOUS!)

How does the time travel work, example, Dazai died in 1948, his plan was seemingly to wait until he’s born in 1909 then kill himself as a baby, but then he decides to use the magic door, what are the consequences of 2 Dazais existing at once or him erasing himself from history, he’s a pretty important literary figure, does someone else replace him or does the space time continuum collapse?? Is the future Vlad sees set in stone or can it be changed, just copy someone else’s time travel bit!!!

So straight up these guys aren’t who they say they are, we’ll go through 1 by 1

Napoleon- doesn’t mention he left the love of his life to marry a girl 20 years his junior (like think how interesting it would be if he’s conflicted about love cuz he had to give it up for political reasons) -that scene where MC talks about all the ‘good’ that he did in Europe, like committing war crimes against the Spanish and Portuguese and Eastern Europeans, being a coloniser, killing the slaves he freed when they asked for more rights, killing thousands of men in a meaningless war (ligit H*tler vibes)

Arthur- goofy irl, literally believed in fairies, had 5 children and married twice but he never mentions any of this, he cheated on his first wife while she was dying of TB, he was a liberal unionist (tldr didn’t like Irish people) he was anti-immigration, might have committed fraud. We’ll get to the other issues I have with him.

Leonardo- fruity as hell, vegetarian

Mozart- they got his character completely wrong, the guy was a complete man child, vain, broke, by the end of his life his career fell off (Beethoven better composer), in love with his cousin 🤢, had a s*at fetish 🤢🤢🤢. The hole Salieri thing didn’t happen.

Vincent- they made him too mentally stable, I’m all for him being meek, but the guy had serious issues that they ignore, he ate paint thinner, was rejected by his both crushes, WHY DOES HE HAVE BOTH EARS, DID IT GROW BACK, THEY SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM WITH ONLY ONE, also he should be ginger smh. Oh yeah and they never mentioned the s*ecide attempt.

Theo- doesn’t mention his wife, or son, WHO HE NAMED AFTER VINCENT, his wife is the person responsible for Vincent’s work not being completely forgotten, was way nicer irl.

Issac- tbh hotter irl, low key ace, maybe a fruit, kinda mean, the only thing they got right was the major virgin vibes.

Jean- WHY MAN!??!! Even if the didn’t want a lesbian route, they could have gone with any other guy from the 100 years war, Edward black prince, idk WHY GENDER BEND ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT WOMEN IN HISTORY, I’m fine with the delusional trans dude lie, but they say that he was a guy all along, THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT OF HIM BEING BURNT AT THE STAKE IF HE WASN’T CROSS DRESSING???!!! was he double cross dressing??? This is the worst of them all, give me the girl boss we deserve (revers fate)

Dazai- not depressed enough imo, he was a leftist, again missing wife, their were two su*ecide attempts, guy lived through fire bombing, had a few children that he is fine to erase from existence.

Shakespeare- probably a fruit, again never mentioned his wife and kids, btw the way he talks is annoying, some people don’t think he’s real.

Faust- NOT A REAL PERSON.

Sanson- too young, this guys is 67, really liked the guillotine, just saw execution as his job didn’t really care, had a wife and kids.

Vlad- Ok is he supposed to be Vlad THE impaler? Cuz he’s not evil enough, or is he a Dracula reference, cuz he can’t dance that dance either, why did they call him Vlad if he isn’t a blood thirsty war criminal.

Count- not enough history to work with.

Part 2, problematic moments

So I ha have seen some posts on the low key misogynistic way the MC is written and treated and there are a lot of issues wit white washing history so another trigger warning ⚠️

Misogyny- the MC of this game is not the best, I know she’s a self insert but she has no backbone at all. She lacks agency I’m most of the routes, like the MC getting kidnapped is a troupe in all these games, but Emma can escape on her own, Kate has ⚽️, even Alice had more depth to her, seems the only thing MC can do is cry and wait to be saved, I swear she gets kidnapped once in every route, I think they could have given her more character to work with. Another thing, but Jean being a man is bad, really bad, she’s a feminist icon but they made her a man, it’s sought of saying that women aren’t capable of this so she had to have actually been a man.

Handling of SA, important one here, I’m ok with the flirty guy, but I really hate Arthur, he doesn’t just flirt with her in chapter 1 he assaults her and acts like he did her a service, and she just forgives him!?! I’m fine with a guy that sleeps around, I like Jin and Nokto fine, but the way Arthur talks about women, always calling them Birds (if they were going for English slang it doesn’t work cuz he doesn’t have a cockney accent) or worse Skirts, it’s dehumanising, and shows that to him women are vehicles for sexual pleasure and aren’t on an equal level of understanding. There are smaller parts to, Leo kisses her without consent, the Count hides the truth from her, idk but Theo calling her a ‘hound’ sounds like he’s calling her something else…

Minor points on classism, I’m not expecting the communist manifesto, but all these games aren’t very good at dealing with class deviation. In Vlad’s route, the orphan boy thinks he can impress the rich girl, this is the 19th century, capitalism is on the rise, but there’s no comment about how it’s impossible. The little school Napoleons runs is strange, considering he was in a position where benefited from poor people existing and staying poor, ( side note, he’s teaching them swordsmanship when ww1 is right around the corner, just saying they won’t need it in the military) called MC out as a social climber, these games sought of depict the past through rosé tinted glasses, there’s only passing reference to how fucked people were in the past, Also all the historical inaccuracies above tie to this.

Anyway love to hear some other opinions, (I started playing this game before my transition and have always thought it it was wired, it’s my personal least favourite just cuz I couldn’t really get into any of the guys, my OC ended up as a Carmilla reference so….)

I have seen a post talking about some of the issues before so that’s what got me to write this out, if you disagree or want to add anything I’m all ears 👂

Thanks for reading 💗💖💖💕💓💝💗🥰🥰🥰❤️✨✨✨✨❤️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikepri #ikevil #ikerev #ikemen series

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kuekyuuq · 2 years

Text

Things the SG/SC fandom agrees on for fanfics...

...although they are not canon established / were only mentioned once / go against canon, but because canon screwed things up we chose to ignore it 🤷

Jess, the assistant (is awesome) [not to be confused with traitorous Alana from 02x15!]

Lena loves kale as much as Kara loves potstickers

Kara is on a mission to fatten Lena up

Kara can't cook

(C'mon, that was one time! Her pancakes turned out alright!)

Lena is Irish 🍀

Lena is a witch / has magic powers (is on this list due to the many fics that included this long before season six! May have been due to Katie's role as Morgana on Merlin, tho.)

"Lee" and "Kar" (...why though _X_ ?😢 )

Lena calling Kara "darling" (which stems from Katie calling all her friends all sorts of endearing terms)

Kara DOES use her superpowers in her day-to-day life (and constantly - great applications have been come up with!)

Where Kara hid her boots before she got the nanotech-supersuit will always be treated as a mystery.

Lena’s childhood teddy bear Miss Pizzly (somehow) returns

Kara memorized Lena's heartbeat (and can tune in on it from great distances) like or even better than Alex’ / within them meeting once 🧏💓

If Kara and Lena have a child / children, there's a 85% chance, they will name them something starting with an L or something that can be abbreviated to start with an L (even if Lena might wanna break with traditions from a family she tries to distance herself from? Lena had a daughter named Lori in the New Earth comics, but really anything with an L seems to be fair game - Why not Irish names?)

Pancakes make the best breakfast (counts for any ship, apparently)

Kara is a morning person 🌞, Lena... is not 😫☕☕☕

Lena does (initially) not want children / is afraid to be a good mother

Alex (and Maggie) bet on anything and everything 💵

Alex gets / acts traumatized / scarred for life by any and all mentions of Kara's sex-life

Agent Susan Vasquez is gay 🌈

(I am 90% sure the caption is not canon, but... if the shoe fits...)

Nia is totally chill in (steamy) Supercorp situations (leaning back and eating popcorn) and totally ships them 🍿

Lena's (loyal) driver, Frank

This list does not claim to be complete nor exclusive. Feel free to add and expand if something else caught your attention.

Fandom is fun 😊

#supercorp #fandom #fanfics #supergirl #Kue doing Kue-things #fandom fun #none of the pics or gifs are mine #kudos to all authors #fixing canon #list #fun

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 1 year

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Villainous Nick was very good 😊 I wonder how Matt would be in that situation? 🤔

Thank you, darling 🥰. Ugh, yes 😮‍💨

Tag: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @letsgivethisonemoreshot @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @tahiri-veyla

The soft moaning and panting were a clear sign of what was happening in that parking lot, behind the black SUV. But see, you didn’t mean for this to happen, the only reason you got inside his car was because you wanted to avoid causing a scene in front of your coworkers, again. Matt and his god complex didn’t allow him to have the merest hint of embarrassment, he was solely proud of everything he did, no matter how problematic it was.

He had trapped you in a corner of the arena hallway, pledging he just “wanted to talk”. You debated not going, knowing how artful he could be, but deep down you felt like you somehow needed this closure. You owe it to your heart and mind, and to have some peace of mind you decided to set the record straight.

After a few failed attempts at getting you back with his soft, pleading, warm chocolate eyes, pouts, and endless promises of being a different person, Matt decided to use the one thing he knew was impossible for you to resist: your sexual chemistry.

“Your body doesn’t lie, dovey. I can hear it calling for me, begging to feel me again. And I know you can hear it too” Matt’s hands traveled down your sides, gripping your waist and full hips as his body pinned you against the backdoor of his rental car.

You felt his erection pressing below your navel, and the slightest sign of a reaction caused Matt to internally smirk to himself before he brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek.

“Don’t you miss me? ‘Cause I sure as hell miss you every day. Here, feel it” Matt took your hand and placed it on top of his hard-on through the jeans. “This is how much I miss you, this is what I go through every time I think of you”.

You turned your face to the left side, fixing your gaze on the backdoor of the arena that led to the parking lot in an attempt to focus on anything but Matt or his touch. Your hand lingered on top of his clothed cock, a natural response that your body seemed to forget should not be so natural now that you had broken up.

Matt briefly watched your internal debate, and before you could act against him, he let his nose reach your hair and took a deep breath in, inhaling the delicate scent of grape bubblegum that always seemed to stain his pillowcase.

“Shit, you always smell so good. Is a freaking dream” Matt let his nose wander further down to your jaw, he softly bit the smooth flesh causing goosebumps to rise all over your arms before his nose found your exposed neck. He pressed himself closer to you, causing your hand to instantly close around his erection.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy” Matt groaned as his hand slid underneath your shirt, taking a handful of your right breast. “My sweet and lovely dove. All beautiful, perfect, and mine” He pulled back to look into your eyes, and the need and lust written all over the brown orbs made you sigh “Matt, please”

“You’re mine, aren’t you, dovey? You’re gonna forget all about that breakup, right? You still want me, still love me, still need me, no? Tell me you need me” His teeth tugged on your bottom lip until the flesh slowly slid from his grip “Tell me you want me”.

Your breathing became heavier with every touch “Matt, knock it off”. You tried to push him away, tried to put some distance between you, but as always, your body betrayed you.

It had a will of its own, desires that you somehow were unable to fulfill, needs that were impossible for you to kill. It was something about his grip, his energy, his scent that made your body euphoric. Details you couldn’t depict faithfully enough to deceive your body’s satisfaction. It was in the intricacies that only Matt possessed, you couldn’t mimic the soft tickling of his hair on your skin or his warm breath on your ear shell, nor the roughness of his palm when it rested against your hidden pearl or the sharpness of his teeth dragging across your skin. The devil is in the details, they say. To you, it sounds more like the devil lives within Matt Jackson.

“Why do you keep denying it, dovey? Is it because of Kenny?” Matt chuckled “We both know he can’t give you what I can. Kenny’s my best friend but let’s face it, he’s weak. He’s a weak man, too soft, too devoted, too in love with you to know what you need. But I do! I know that you don’t need a man that crawls back to you crying stupid apologies every time he fucks it up. No, no, no, you need a man who will hate-fuck you every time you argue” Matt’s hand pushed your back against the black SUV. The air was pushed out of your lungs with the impact and before you could say anything, Matt’s hands pushed the yoga pants down your legs before spitting on his fingers.

His digits spread your folds and expertly found your entrance “You need a man who can put you in your place. And what place is that, dovey? Oh yes, on your knees, with a cock buried deep in your throat” Matt’s fingers moved at a frantic pace, eliciting the most sinful sounds your body could vocalize.

“You like this kind of shit, don’t you, dove? Getting fingered in the parking lot of an arena at a random city, being used and fucked so good like the useless slut that you are” Matt’s tongue licked your cheek like a wild cat, playing and reveling in the taste of its prey before finally killing it.

“Matt, this is wrong” You whined loudly, legs instantly closing and clasping his hand between your thighs in an attempt to stop your rising orgasm.

Matt chuckled against your lips as his hands began to push his hard cock out of his navy blue joggers “And that’s why it feels so good, dovey. That’s why you’re gonna be soaking my cock in a few seconds. Because it feels so fucking good and we can’t stop, can we?”

#matt jackson imagine #matt jackson x reader #matt jackson smut #matt jackson fanfiction #matt jackson #young bucks imagine #the young bucks #young bucks #masochist writes

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xxreader-writerxx · 1 year

Text

Perfect

A/N: Alright I've come out of my hidey hole. I know you missed me ;) Anyways enjoy my perfect flowers.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader (not yet dating)

Warnings: Nothing really. Just pure fluff.

Summary: Remus wants to preparefor your birthday but struggles to be perfect.

Word Count: 1.5k

It was a bright, sunny day as I walked across the courtyard. I giggle as a rogue pygmy-puff dashes across my feet. The fluffy hair tickling my ankles above my black shoes. I tuck my books into my bag because all my classes are done for the day. Scanning the yard for my favorite boys and snicker at the sight. Sirius tries to flirt with some Gryffindors and James ruins it by magically mocking him. I walk over and Peter pulls me into a hug.

“Finally someone to help me with these idiots.” He jokes into my ear quietly. I cover my smile and lightly hit his chest. My face morphs into a slight frown when I realize Remus isn’t with the boys. “And when I finally made the shot I could feel the rush- Yes darling?” Sirius asks when he feels the tap on his shoulder. “Where’s Rem?” I asked him since they were together last. “Oh last I remember he was skipping off to our dorm. Saying he had something to do.” He tells me and I kiss his cheek. “Thank you pads.”

I giggle as he starts to rush an explanation to the Gryffindors in front of him, blushing furiously. I make my way inside. I smell what the elves are making for dinner waft through the hallways as I pass the painting to the kitchen. There are traces of mushrooms, steak, and bread in the air that could make any stomach growl. The best part of Hogwarts is that even the non-magical things that even muggles could do become magical just by default.

Fingers dragging along the cool stone walls, the bumps of the pillars halting them from time to time. The castle is warm but somehow the walls themselves have a type of independence, choosing to have a cool temperature that could save you from the day’s heat. The wallpaper of the walls goes all the way to the ceiling, delicate designs most likely made by fairies. The hallway is full of quiet chattering, footsteps, and laughter. Some students having clubs rush past to make it on time, others not having a care in the world letting time fly during the free time they have.

The fat lady comes into view, singing her famous “operatic” melody that might not break glass but certainly can burst an eardrum. Her pink dress ruffled looking like she’s been running around, most likely searching for an unwilling audience. “Password?” Her cultured voice sings and I nod. I tell her the password and the painting opens to show the common room.

The common room always smells of firewood and old books. A fire is crackling underneath a painting of an old man. I was half expecting to see messy brown curls tucked into the red sofa but it was completely empty besides a cozy blanket and pillows. Huffing, I look at the staircase that leads to the boy’s dorms and begin my journey. Posters scattering every other door, some muggle sports and some wizarding. The seeker of the Irish team winked at me as I passed by, making me a bit shy. He was always a flirt, making the boys I often have by my side huff about how he wasn’t all that charming.

Finally making it to the door I was looking for I raise my fist to knock but pause at the sounds inside. There’s crashing and rummaging like someone was looting around. Folding my hand around my wand I whisper “Alohomora,” there's a click signifying the lock opening and I turn the door knob. Opening the door quietly, hoping to not let any possible intruder know someone was entering. Instead of a burglar all I see is a cluttered room with a messy Remus in the middle of all the clutter. “Where is that damned thing?” He mutters to himself as he throws a shirt behind him, unknowingly landing on me.

I begin to pick up around the room, folding jerseys, putting trinkets back into their designated shelves, and other things as I slowly walk up to him. I place the folded clothes on Jame’s bed and place my hands softly on his shoulders and go on my tippy toes. “What are you looking for Remus?” I softly question and his shoulders relax for a second before they stiffen.

He flips around and I nearly fall if it wasn’t for him being there. He holds my wrists softly looking down at me. “What are you doing here?” He questions and I bite my lip. It does seem a bit strange that I welcomed myself into his dorm room unannounced. It’s normal for me when all the boys are in here but never when only one is inside. My face heats and I place my heels back on the ground. “Oh um- I’m sorry. I just- and you were-” I stutter and he smirks at me. “I’m not upset darling, I just wish it wasn’t a whole mess for you.” he tells me.

He looks behind him, still not breaking contact, using one of his hands to shuffle the mess on the table. He finally finds what he was looking for and takes his wand. “Scourgify.” He casts with a whip of his wand. The room around us starts to put itself away, as if an invisible maid or butler was making their rounds. He walks with me over to his side of the room and I notice that his foot is kicking a box under his bed. I quirk my brow and lean down grabbing the package.

“No don’t-” He sighs, pinching his brow “...do that.” Looking at the package I smile. “Oh Remmy…” I gasp, placing my hand at my chest. “I- I was trying to wrap it for your birthday but… but-” He groans, flopping on his bed. “No one ever taught me how to wrap presents.” He whispers under his hands. My fingers trace the broken parcel around the present. There’s strips of tape trying to hold it together and the brown parcel is crumbled with a string holding it in place. “Oh Remus, how did you know?” I ask, feeling tears prick at my lashes. “Well I overheard you saying that you didn’t care much for your birthday and I- I couldn’t bear the thought. I also noticed whenever we were heading to the Broomstick how you eyed this. I scrounged some money together and bought it.” He blurts out and I climb next to him on the bed.

Lightly peeling his hands from his face, I smile at him softly. “Why are you so stressed? I love it, Remmy…” I tell him and his face stays solemn. “I wanted to make sure it was perfect, now I spoiled it and it’s all messy…” He frowns and I lay my hand on his chest, tracing small pictures across it. “Remus, it’s already perfect because you made it. You could’ve gotten me a stink bomb and I would’ve loved it.” I tell him and he holds my hand, squeezing it. “But it’s not. It’s all torn and I can’t find another roll of parcel.” He complains and I giggle. I raise my wand and wink. “Acio roll of parcel.” I smirk and he groans slightly laughing. “I didn’t think of that.” He mumbles and I reach out for the parcel floating towards us.

I pull him to sit on the ground with me. I reach for a box similar in size and he raises an eyebrow. “What’s this?” He asks and I shrug. “I’ll teach you.” I whisper and he wipes under his eyes though they are mostly dry. “Ok…” He whispers back and we get started.

“So, I fold it like this… And how do I tape it without it unfolding?” He asks, holding down the triangle he just made. “Well you are a beginner and that is a high level move…” I joke and he rolls his eyes. “Here I’ll help you this time.” I say and quickly jut my hand out to take his place. My fingers graze the back of his hand and I jerk it back for a second. My face heats up in an instant and I place my hand back. “Ok…” He says, looking up at me. His nose nearly meets mine and we lock eyes. “You- You can tape it now.” I mutter, his hand unmoving. He makes a small noise agreeing but still doesn’t move his hand. “Your eyes always take my breath away…” He mutters under his breath and I gulp. So quickly I question if it even happened his chin moves closer, lips almost touching but never making contact.

He moves away and grabs the tape and I stay there amazed. I snap too once he finally tapes the last part and he laughs. “I did it!” He tells me and I nod happily. “I have no idea why you were so worried. I never took you as a perfectionist.” I say and he sighs. “Because it’s for you. I always thought you were the most perfect person I’ve ever met and wanted you to know that…” He admits and I smile. “Remmy…” I sigh, I lean closer only to be interrupted by Sirius barreling into the room. “You completely ruined my chances, you asshole!” He yells and I laugh, hiding behind Remus to dodge the pillows being hurled.

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strawbs-screaming · 7 months

Text

☆ how the boxers act when drunk ☆

Moe posts without an ask?? How scandalous!!!

Glass Joe

- lightweight, cant walk properly and ends up falling to the floor on his face multiple times

- will not shut up, gets really talkative, only in french sadly

- insists on walking himself home like he can stand on his 2 feet without fighting for his life

- his english gets 100 times worse than usual

- needs to get carried or get thrown in a uber, even then, he'll usually pass out on his doorstep or at the foot of his bed

Von Kaiser

- ever watched a german grandpa transform into a philosopher? Youre about to witness it now,want to wonder "what the fuck is a potato anyway?"

- asks stuff that really makes you think, not anything meaningful but its still gonna make you think

- halfway through his ramblings he just starts dancing

- can actually walk properly, just not to the right direction

- will tell you stories and switch languages halfway through

Disco Kid

- runs away when drunk for no apparent reason or for something he completely made up on the spot, Disco what do you mean you forgot your dog in Oklahoma?? You dont even have a dog

- dances a whole lot more, except hes more likely to fall down a flight of stairs

- even happier, unlike Kaiser he can actually say meaningful stuff without changing dialects halfway through

- picks up people randomly for no reason and spins them around

King Hippo

- hes just.. gone

- passes out the second alcohol hits him

- out cold, this is why he avoids drinking

Piston Hondo

- why is he so sad?? hes just crying please take him home

- will cry over anything, including the fact that hes drunk, poor man crying over thinking hes gonna lose face when drunk

- will cry onto & into anything, bartenders arms? yeah why not, the floor? Yeah why not, will cry you a river

- so worried about losing face hes crying WHILE drunk about losing face

Bear Hugger

- jollier than santa, complete opposite of hondo

- will sing sea shanties, give out free hugs and just be happy

- aware of the fact hes drunk and using it to his advantage to say random stuff

- "i might like raw fish but i also like raw meat"

- "what."

- suprisingly good at walking, also in the right direction i might add

- more likely to laugh at thin air than usual

Great Tiger

- pure chaos, teleporting around to not fall to the floor, only to end up flopping onto another floor

- his clones turn into nightmare fuel, some missing parts of their body, some missing their face, literal body horror

- his magic just degrades into a worse version of itself

- keeps scaring people for no apparent reason

- floats around randomly when bored

Don Flamenco

- flirtier, messier & sadder

- his pick up lines sound like hes having a stroke

- if he gets rejected while drunk he'll just cry

- "hey babygirl.. Are you a 100 bucks?... Because i wanna have you"

- "no thank you"

- "EIGJJHHHSHSHHSHWAHHHHHH"

- holding onto his drinks like someones gonna take it from him, which is most likely true because he needs to be stopped

Aran Ryan

- worse than his usual self, cartwheels around, smacks people for no reason, climbs on top of things and falls then runs away

- you think Disco being a runner was bad?? hes 100 times worse, he just runs without saying anything, hes a fast runner too so hes worse

- somehow speaks irish better when hes drunk, sadly no one can understand him because no one around him knows irish

- fights people for no reason, usually ending in him needing to be held, which ends in him falling asleep

Soda Popinski

- hes just a big ball of anxiety since he was a former alcoholic

- Really worried hes gonna do something dumb so he just curls up into a ball and lays on the ground

- will go home as soon as hes drunk, poor man :(

- if he cant go home he'll try to sober up, much to his failure

- holding back tears

Bald Bull

- wayy more affectionate than usual, giddy and a bit more touchy, hes a sweetheart when drunk and due to this, some people have considered keeping him drunk to avoid his anger, this obviously wouldnt work because liver failure is not fun

- unable to get pissed off when drunk, hes just incapable of anger

- will give out hugs

- also bit of a lightweight, flailing around, trying not to fall, only to fall on his ass

- gets very giggly and laughs a whole lot

- after a few minutes, hes barely able to move and ends up needing to be carried home, even then he doesnt shut up

Super Macho Man

- still a douchebag, but a bit kinder

- very aware of the fact hes drunk, so he finishes every kind sentence with "im drunk so dont expect anything like this when im sober"

- passes out then wakes up again like a windows computer

Mr Sandman

- you cant really tell whenever hes drunk or not, the only difference is him smiling a lot more

- not really aware of the fact hes drunk, Just counts himself as tipsy

- the only person you could trust to drive drunk, except you shouldnt because drunk driving is bad

- randomly falls asleep

#punch out #headcanon #punch out wii #punch out headcanons #don flamenco #bald bull #piston hondo #glass joe #aran ryan #great tiger #king hippo #disco kid #wowzers moe is posting something?? without an ask?? How scandalous of him!!!

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kiseiakhun · 14 days

Note

"dating your enemy's sibling" with DickKyle

Thank u for this 100% organic prompt that I definitely did not ask you to send

Kyle had exchanged maybe two entire words with Dick Grayson in his life. Which is strange, considering their mutual circle of acquaintances, but somehow they always end up just missing each other. Still, their overlapping friends means that Kyle knows more about Dick than is perhaps warranted for two people who mostly nod at each other from across the room.

If someone were to ask Kyle to explain his thought process, it would go something like this: first, Dick is Wally's best friend, and Kyle and Wally may be friends but Wally is also the second most annoying person Kyle knows, superseded only by his cousin. Thus, annoying Wally back is morally, spiritually, and ethically correct, and Wally would be so peeved if Kyle were to sleep with his best friend, specifically to annoy him.

Second, and most importantly, Dick Grayson is Jason Todd's brother. And just, fuck that guy. Fuck that guy in general.

Which is why, when Kyle sees Dick at Donna's birthday party, he hooks a finger in the collar of his shirt, ostensibly to catch his attention. "Hey," Kyle shouts over the loud music of the club, "shots?"

"What?" Dick yells back.

Kyle tugs him closer, raises his free hand to his mouth and mimes throwing back a shooter. He glances back at the bar, giving Dick a questioning look, and Dick nods, following him through the crowd of writhing dancers.

They stumble to the bar with all the grace of a newborn colt. At least, Kyle does. Dick still looks annoyingly put together, even though Kyle knows he was pre-gaming with the rest of them. When Kyle almost runs into another person, Dick grabs his arm.

"Easy," he says, his voice right next to Kyle's ear. His hand is cool on Kyle's overheated skin, squeezing once before dropping to Kyle's waist.

"I can walk," Kyle complains half heartedly.

"I know," Dick says, his lips almost brushing Kyle's ear with how close he has to lean to be heard over the background noise. "Let's get you your shots." He guides Kyle over to the bar, expertly maneuvering through the crowd of clustered people. "What do you want to drink?"

He's still holding Kyle up like Kyle might collapse any second now, and Kyle doesn't know if he feels patronized or if he's glad for the support. "Um," he says, sluggish brain trying to work through the question, "tequila?"

Dick wrinkles his nose. "Gross."

"What do you mean, gross?" Kyle bumps his shoulder. "Tequila's a classic."

"Don't you want something a little more exciting?" Dick roots around his pockets, pulling out a black card. "I mean, you're an artist, right? Be a little more creative."

Kyle was about to offer to pay, even though Dick is already paying for this whole thing so really, it's a moot point, and Kyle doesn't even know if he brought enough change, but still, it's the done thing to do. Instead, he frowns. "Huh. You're a lot meaner than I thought."

"I heard you liked that," Dick says, drawing the bartender over with a flashy smile.

"Who-" Kyle starts, and then shuts his mouth. "That's a low blow."

"You still want tequila?" Dick asks.

"Get whatever you want." Kyle rolls his eyes, leaning his cheek against the expensive-feeling fabric of Dick's shirt. "Show me how creative you are."

"Hm," Dick says, "alright," and leans over the counter. "Two Irish flags."

"Oh, you're funny," Kyle says, "you're real funny."

"Yup," Dick says cheerfully, with no hint of irony, and holds up the triple layered drink. "Cheers."

They drink the Irish flags. And then a melon ball, tie me to the bedpost, slippery nipple, and, finally, cum in a hot tub.

"I'm not drinking that," Kyle says, eyeing the thick white liquor with no small amount of distrust. His face is burning either from the alcohol or from all the suggestive names.

"It's just Malibu." Dick clinks their glasses together. The corner of his lip is curled up in amusement.

"I'm serious," Kyle insists. "I'll throw up on your shoes."

"Are you going to waste perfectly good liquor? And after I already paid for it, too." Dick picks up a shot glass and looks pointedly at Kyle. "You know they upcharge them here."

"You're rich." Kyle scowls. "That's probably like five cents to you."

"Hm," Dick says, and leans closer to Kyle. He cradles the back of Kyle's head, his fingers sliding into Kyle's hair.

"Um," Kyle says, watching Dick lift the glass. A bit of the white liquor splashes out, dripping between his fingers, and Kyle watches it slide between the grooves of his skin as the cold rim of the shot glass bumps against Kyle's lip, thick cream and sweet, cloying coconut.

"Don't make a mess," Dick tells him, and slowly tips the glass back. And for some reason, Kyle opens his mouth. He opens his mouth and lets the sweet cream drip down his tongue in a thick velvet river, milk and rum and coconut. It's too sweet, pooling at the back of his throat in a thick heavy slog of pure syrup.

The last of the drink empties from the glass, leaving a creamy film. Dick sets it back down on the counter without looking, and Kyle snaps his mouth shut. Dick reaches up again, brushing his thumb through the sticky sugar on Kyle's lips. It comes away white, and he hums, sticking it in his own mouth.

"Do I have to tell you to swallow, too?" He asks, sounding amused, and Kyle feels his face blaze red, throat working as he forces himself to swallow it all at once.

"You," Kyle says, "have shit taste in drinks, and the weirdest way of flirting."

"Is that what we're doing?" Dick asks, and he has the gall to look innocent. "Flirting?"

"You're not cute," Kyle tells him, "and also, I'm going to the smoke pit, because-"

"Seriously, guys?" Wally's loud voice rises above the din of the crowd. They turn to see Wally gawping at them and Donna, draped against his shoulder, looking delighted.

"What are you - you-" Wally rounds on Kyle. "I didn't even do anything to you!"

"Newsflash, West," Kyle pushes away from Dick to face him, "not everything in my life revolves around you."

"You don't even know Dick!" Wally flails his arms in his best approximation of if his arms were suddenly and tragically replaced by those spring loaded jack in the box clown toys.

And really, that opening is too good to pass up. Kyle grins. He leans over, wraps his arm around Dick's waist, and turns, almost nuzzling into his neck. "Oh, Dick and I were getting to know each other quite well," he says, "weren't we?"

For the first time ever since Kyle had met Wally, a miracle happens. Wally falls silent and just stares in abject horror.

Dick laughs quietly into Kyle's hair. He tips his head down and asks, "but really, what did Wally do this time?"

"Nothing," Kyle whispers back. "Actually, I was thinking of how much Jason would hate it if we hooked up."

"Huh," Dick says, and then he reaches into his pocket and hands Donna his card. "Happy birthday, Donna. Sorry I'm going to miss it."

"Don't forget to use protection!" Donna calls after them as Dick drags Kyle away, not sounding the least bit mad. "You two both owe me dinner. I want every detail."

(Donna does eventually get her dinner. With them both. At the same time. Dick and Kyle both vow to never blow her off again.)

#writes #i meant to keep this short but I'm stuck on a plane with nothing to do. so.#dick Grayson #Kyle Rayner #dickkyle #yes those are all real drinks. my search history looks atrocious

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strawwritesfic · 1 year

Text

Oliver Wood x Reader: Happiness

Summary: Oliver is a lot of things, but unromantic isn't one of them.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (Quidditch World Cup; Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire; established Oliver/Reader; marriage proposal; engagement; Ravenclaw!Reader; Chaser!Reader; mild language)

Challenge: “115 Words” by BonitaWolfSpirit on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Happiness

How quickly a years’ worth of planning could come to a close. Every knut saved from your first job, every second of time off scraped, every moment of extra work suffered—all over in less than an hour. As you stepped out of the enormous quidditch arena and into the surrounding forest, you couldn’t help but feel the sinking sensation of disappointment in your stomach.

“They couldn’t have kept it going for ten more minutes? Seriously?” you wondered aloud.

“That. Was. Amazing!”

The sole voice loud enough to be heard above the throng of World Cup attendees around you belonged, of course, to Oliver Wood. Your longtime boyfriend strode behind you by several feet. When you turned to confirm this, you saw him in the midst of your mutual Hogwarts friends. He somehow managed to stand out from the crowd even decked out head to toe in his team’s colors like everyone else.

You slowed to allow the rest of the group to catch up with you. “Amazing? Are you kidding? I gave up a new Cleansweep for this.”

“For a spectacle like that, I’d give up a Firebolt! Well, maybe not a Firebolt,” Oliver amended, “but practically any other broom!”

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to charge us this much for seats and then make us show up so early, they could at least try to keep things going for an hour.”

“How can you say that? What Krum did—and the Irish chasers! I’ve never seen flying done like that!”

“It was too flashy. No one can appreciate the moves on brooms like that. Not unless you can afford to shell out for omnioculars, at any rate.”

“So what? You want them to play without any speed or skill? That would be boring!”

“I’d prefer some boredom to having my vacation cut so short,” you grumped.

A chorus of laughter reminded you that you and Oliver were not alone. The closer you got to camp, the thinner the horde grew, but you still had your three friends to contend with. Penelope Clearwater, your best friend from school, exchanged knowing looks with Oliver’s two Gryffindor buddies, Clyde Harpis and Ackley Soots.

“Here comes another one of [Name] and Oliver’s famous debates,” she said.

“Shouting match, more like,” said Ackley, shoving his glasses up nose.

“Can’t you two just enjoy the moment?” asked Clyde.

“We are!” you and Oliver snapped in unison.

The three of them groaned and shook their heads, though they smiled as they did so. Oliver and you were famously mismatched as a couple: a Gryffindor keeper and a Ravenclaw chaser; a passionate jock and a meticulous student; heck, you two hadn’t even gone to the World Cup supporting the same team! Three years of your dating left your friends used to you and Oliver quarreling every chance you got—especially when it came to about the only thing you shared: your love of quidditch.

“Sure, guys.” Penelope rolled her eyes. “Can you both continue 'enjoying' the moment back at camp? I’ve got some gold coming to me, you know.”

“We don’t want to miss the festivities,” Clyde said.

“And I brought plenty of firewhisky for those festivities,” Ackley added.

“A drink sounds like just what the healer ordered,” you said. Well, at least it might take the sting out of the depressingly short quidditch match, you figured.

Penelope, Clyde, and Ackley continued on their way down the dirt path that darkened steadily the farther you drew from the glowing pitch. They chatted merrily about another one of Penelope’s winning bets and what she planned to do with the money this time. You took one step after them, but found any further progress impeded by a strong hand on your shoulder.

“Oliver, let g—what’s the matter with you?” you asked upon twisting far enough to see his unusually pale face through the shadows of the trees.

He hastily rearranged his expression and released you. “Nothing!”

“Suit yourself. Can we get going, then? I wouldn’t want Ackley to drink all the whisky before we get there.”

“He won’t. Look, I want to show you something.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“It won’t take long. Promise.”

A glance over your shoulder proved that your friends had already disappeared from your field of vision. Most of the people still sitting above you during the game had parted to walk around you and Oliver on their way to the tent fields. Only stragglers (and those having already dipped into the celebratory drinks) remained.

“Sure,” you said, albeit slowly.

Oliver nodded, then stepped off the dirt path, walking right into the trees. If this strange behavior wasn’t proof enough that something was wrong with your boyfriend, you didn’t know what was. Only minutes before, he’d been walking on air!

As you trailed behind him, the noises in the forest shifted. The chatter faded. Chirping crickets and hooting owls replaced it. The quiet lasted mere seconds. A single echoing crack shattered the silence, followed by cheering and singing. Magical fireworks exploded overhead from every direction except that of the Bulgarian camp. Even the Irish mascots got in on the racket, soaring this way and that across the starry sky and scattering fake galleons everywhere they flew.

But still Oliver did not cease his wordless march. True to his word, he didn’t keep you long, but every second of the tense walk drove your anxiety up another notch. Why didn’t he want to get back to camp to join in the revelry? You’d have thought he would have lived for that after seeing what he believed to be a truly amazing game.

“Okay, Oliver,” you called as he stopped in the center of a perfectly round clearing. “It wasn’t really a bad game. I’m just being whiny. You win.”

“Huh?”

He stared at you as though he’d completely forgotten that he had asked you to follow him to begin with. Needless to say, this comforted you not one bit. You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked over to him.

“What’s going on? Are you really that upset that we disagree about the length of the match?”

Now Oliver just looked confused. “Of course not. Why would I care about something like that?”

“Then why are you being so weird?”

There it was: another flicker of nerves utterly foreign to your typically brash and confident boyfriend. In all your years of knowing him, he had only looked this pasty and weak a handful of times, most notably when McGonagall had canceled the Interhouse Cup due to a string of nasty petrifications.

“Oliver, are you sick?” you asked.

“No.”

“Are you upset about the game?”

“No.”

You stomped your foot. “Then why have you dragged me all the way out here when we could be back at the tent with our friends?”

“I’m working up to it!”

“Working up to what?”

He took a deep breath. You held yours, waiting on his answer. But rather than open his mouth and reply verbally, Oliver did something whole unexpected: He got down on one knee.

You made a small, startled noise in the back of your throat.

For a second or two, Oliver stared at the grass beneath him. Maybe you had been mistaken. Maybe he really was sick. Your mouth opened to urge him to come with you to find a mediwizard just as his head snapped up. There in his eyes burned a fire you had once and only once before—and on the night of his final match as Gryffindor quidditch captain before you both left Hogwarts for good at that.

“[Name]!”

You made the same small noise as before.

“Will you marry me?”

So distracted by his eyes had you been that only at that moment did you spot the little velvet box laying open in his hand. Something inside that box sparkled.

You squeaked a third time.

Oliver blanched. Never had you seen him look more panicked. He fumbled as he gazed up at you, and the box fell to the forest floor. But you couldn’t attempt to soothe him. You had no words of your own. Even if you had, he didn’t give you the time to scramble for them before he launched into a rushed speech:

“It’s just—well—dammit! Penelope said I would need to—but I didn’t listen. I don’t have anything planned! Uh, um, I—what should I—I love you, [Name]! I love you a lot! Every day we spend together is like a day spent flying at the pitch. When I win an argument with you, I feel like I’ve scored the deciding point in a match. I never, ever, ever want to give that up. So for the love of God, please, won’t you just say something?”

You couldn’t help letting him go on like that. For one thing, the longer Oliver rambled, the more time he allowed your brain to catch up with your mouth. For another, well, when else would you get the chance to hear your quidditch-obsessed boyfriend compare you to his beloved game? But the look on his face as he stared up at you through the dark, shoulders heaving from the passion of his plea, forced you to take pity on him at last.

Without warning, you pounced on him. Oliver wasn’t expecting that. Your sudden attack sent him flying backwards—not that you minded finding yourself half on the ground, half on top of your startled boyfriend. Doing so gave you the opportunity to grab his head between your palms, pull his face up to yours, and kiss him eagerly (and repeatedly) on the mouth.

“[Name]! [Name]! Ack! [Name]! What are you doing?” he demanded in between smooches.

The only reason you released him was to give him an answer. Breathing heavily, you snatched the ring box up from where it had fallen in some dirt. You pulled the ring free, then shoved it onto your waiting finger and pulled Oliver in for another kiss. A sudden noise from the general vicinity of your hand turned out to be the ring itself—designed like a snitch with the diamond its center—fluttering once around your heads before settling back in its place.

Clearly, this was still not apparent enough a reply for Oliver. He gaped at you like a plimpy with its legs freshly tied in knots.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Oliver,” you said.

The only made him set his jaw. “Then why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I was in shock!”

“What’s there to be shocked about? We’ve only been discussing getting married for a year.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know you’d pop the question during the Qudditch World Cup! I thought you might have other priorities.”

“Even after I spent four hours alone with your dad the day I came to pick you up?”

“Is that what you two were doing in his office? I just thought he’d cornered you to tell you all about the wonders of muggle soccer.”

Oliver grimaced. “There was quite a bit of that, too. How anyone can find a sport where the balls don’t try to kill you entertaining, I have no idea.” He shifted underneath you enough that he could sit up and take your hands in his. “I wanted to get his blessing before we left so I could surprise you after the match. Even though I love Quidditch more than anything else in the world, you’re important to me, too.”

“At a distant second, I’m sure,” you teased. But it was enough to know that Oliver, on what was surely the most exciting night of his life so far, had thought also of you, your relationship, and your future together. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders in a quick hug, pressing another kiss to the skin just beneath his ear. “Now that that’s out of the way, can we please get back to the tents before all the fun is over?”

“And Penelope says I’m the one who isn’t romantic.”

“I’m romantic. I’m just also practical. You know how Ackley gets about the firewhisky.”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver stood. He offered you a hand to help pull you up as well. “I suppose we should be headed back anyway. That lot should have the engagement party set up by now.”

“You had them set up an engagement party?” you squealed as you and Oliver walked back under the trees.

Oliver shot you a look. “You didn’t think Ackley brought the liquor just for after the game, did you?”

“For a lame game like that, I’m glad he didn’t.”

“It was not a bad game.”

“Sure. As long as you think seekers are the most interesting part of a match.”

“It didn’t even come down to Krum!”

“That’s the only reason you thought it was a good game, and you know it.”

“Name another reason to keep talking about it.”

“I can’t, which is why you did me a favor by proposing to me tonight so I have something positive to say about the evening.”

“You could at least bring up the amazing keeping.”

“What amazing keeping? I didn’t see any amazing keeping. Completely standard keeping on display tonight, if you ask me.”

Arguing all the way, you and he made your slow way back to camp and the little party set up by your friends. Your disappointment over the short match vanished more with each burst of light coming from the nearing fireworks. Now you felt only the sweet burn of happiness—though you had no intention of admitting that to Oliver. There were years ahead of you to quarrel about the finer points of quidditch—years and years and years and years, you hoped. But no game would ever stand up to your first World Cup and the beautiful proposal you received right after.

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insret #second person pov #harry potter #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter reader insert #oliver wood reader insert

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