#saint is actually around their size as well

[focshi]

GDFHDHDHFKDKDBDHDJSHSHSJS THEY'RE SO TINY I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!1!1!1!1!1!1!

The fact they are the size of her pups but are full grown because they are just a smaller breed of scug is very funny to me, like she's just like "oh these poor sick babies"

Local woman meets short people for the first time.

short scugs? all I see are pups...

#saint is actually around their size as well #but they smell old #my art #art #artists on tumblr #ask #digital art #rain world #rain world artificer #rain world survivor #rain world monk #rain world rivulet #rain world spearmaster #arti adoption au

[monstersighing]

Frankenstein monster x Fem!reader

Uhhh, this is actually kinda sweet, but also horny.

NSFW, 18+, Minor Do Not Interact

Frankenstein's Monster/Creature x Fem Reader

Title: Home

Content: penetrative sex, masturbation.

+++

You find him in the forest. A man, but strange. He’s tall and broad. Covered with scars and stitches on the parts of him you can see under his dirty hooded cape. There are birds surrounding him that he is feeding with a piece of hardened bread, so he doesn’t notice you at first. When he does, he flinches and pulls his hood down.

He is huge and tall and hooded, but you are not afraid.

You coax him towards you with soft words. Promises of food and shelter. And he follows you home.

+++

He is gentle despite his size and hardly speaks.

When you ask his name, he doesn’t reply, so you call him Francis, after a statue of the saint you once saw with birds on his shoulders and little creatures at his feet.

Francis pulls pails of water from the well and chops firewood with an energy and strength that makes something turn over in your stomach. Sometimes, you see him looking at you from under his hood. His eyes are two different colours, and both are beautiful.

When you tell him that, Francis shakes his head, unbelieving, but you think you see a smile.

The next day, he leaves his hood down.

+++

One night, sat together in the glow of the fire, you ask Francis where he came from, where he was born.

“I was not born. My father, he made me. Out of many men.”

He looks at you then, as if waiting for your disgust and rejection.

“So, you are a miracle of science, then. How wonderful,” you reply.

The surprise on his face makes it light up. You think you would give him a thousand compliments if he would just look like that more often.

+++

It has been a long dirty day of planting in the fields, so you boil pans of water over the fire, empty them in the tub and sink into the water.

You can hear the rhythmic sound of wood being chopped. You think of Francis’s grating rusty voice, his muscular shoulders. You imagine what those shoulders would feel like under your hands. What your legs would feel like wrapped around his waist.

You are rubbing yourself dry when the door creaks. You turn automatically, and see Francis at the door, hand clenched on the handle.

You don’t cover yourself, just let him gaze at your nakedness.

You hear the crumple of metal as the door handle cracks in Francis’s hand and he bolts.

You dress quickly and run outside, wet hair running rivulets down the back of your neck.

You find Francis in the barn, on his knees. His eyes are closed, and he is biting down on one hand as he fucks his straining cock into the fist of the other. You watch: the heaviness of his cock, his clenched eyelids, the desperate twitches of his hips. He comes quickly, and cum spurts and dribbles over his hand. When he removes the other from his mouth, you see the marks of teeth there.

You must make a noise because Francis opens his eyes then and sees you.

His reaction is instantaneous, a pulling up of trousers as he leaps to his feet and pushes past you and out of the barn door.

You shout after him as he runs towards the forest, but he does not stop or turn to look at you.

+++

Francis does not come back that evening.

In the morning you go looking for him.

He’s in the clearing in the forest where you first saw him.

“Come home,” you say. “Come home with me.” You do not know how to tell him, and you do not know how to ask, so you rise on your toes, and pull him down by his cloak so you can kiss him.

Frencis’s kiss is uncertain, but when you coax your tongue into his mouth you can taste the berries that he must have eaten.

It starts to rain, and you grab his hand to run through the forest and across the fields back home.

Once inside your home, you notice that his cape has kept him dry, but your clothes are soaked. Your nipples are cold and hard.

You strip to nakedness under Francis’s gaze and place his mismatched hands - one broader, with callouses, the other with long fingers - on your breasts.  He kneads at them roughly, and you watch him spread his legs to accommodate his filling cock.

You splay your legs and show him how to finger your already leaking cunt. His eyes flick from your wetness to your face, his two different coloured eyes hungry.

“The bed,” you say.

He ignores you and pushes you down to the floor.

He’s still clothed and your legs are spread wide. He looks like he wants to devour you. He pushes his trousers down and pulls off his shirt with a rip of seams. There’s a neatly stitched incision on his chest, in the shape of a Y.

Then he lines up his cock with your cunt and pushes deep inside you with a grunt. You cry out at the feeling of fullness and he begins to thrust into you, each ferocious push feeling deeper than the last.

Your legs lock as far as you can over his back, holding him deep and your hands roam his skin, touching the rough stitches that joint his arms to his shoulders. Proof that this man was made of many men. Now just one, who wants you, desperately. Who is showing you with each jolting push of his cock inside you.

His thrusts ruck up the rug beneath you, and you brace your arms against the floor. The resistance pushes him deeper into you. He comes with a howl: satisfied, animalistic. You feel his come, warm and sticky, flood into you.

He rears back then, and with his cock still seated inside you, Francis presses a finger around the stretched rim of your cunt and then inside, crooking up, hard. The impossible stretch makes your walls flutter, your thighs clench and your back arch with your orgasm.

Francis watches as his cock softens, and then slips out of your cunt, come leaking from your entrance. You sigh at the absence until he splays over you, a heavy comforting weight, and you sleep.

#monster smut #monster fucker #monster x reader #monsterfucking #monster x human #monster lover #monstersighing #answered requests #nsft text #Monsterfucker

[johnpriceslamb]

Hi! I love your how you write and I wanted to ask if you could do Javier Escuella x middle class reader? Something like Arthur and Mary case…

Thank you <33

𝓴𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 ,

❥ You’ve sent a letter to Javier asking for ‘help’. Just a day later he shows up at your front door.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ꒰ female ! reader . hyper-feminine ! reader . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . VERY SUGGESTIVE . No actual NSFW . 1k wrd count. ꒱

❥ Javier Escuella x fem! reader. (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ?)

“You came.”

The air around is hot. Hot enough to be able to dry the wet laundry which clings on the thin clothesline with a peg. The sun showed no mercy among the people in New Hanover, and it blazes through like a forest-fire. There’s no fire, but you could practically feel the radiating heat from it.

“I did.”

Was Javier a fool to travel all the way from Valentines to Saint Denis in the blazing hot? Perhaps.

For you- was it worth it? Absolutely.

You’re still as pretty as ever despite the arid drought. He wonders how you manage to stay tall and well through this.

He wonders if the tint on your cheeks was from the heat or from seeing him. He hopes it was the latter.

Slowly does he creep forward. Your eyes almost shines and glimmer as he approaches, you feel that giddy part of you rising in your stomach as you watch him carefully.

“Needed help with the.. plumbing, you said?” He has that same charming grin he’s always had when you two first met. It’s always allured you, every time. His hand reaches to his pocket unconsciously, fiddling with the letter which was stuffed messily into the small compartment.

“Uhuh,” You smile, feigning innocence as you tinkered those dewy lashes of yours up at him. Oh, dear.

“Mhm.” He rests his weight by leaning on the door-frame, crossing his arms as he looks down at your demure figure. Gosh did he just want to take you right there, right then.

“Why don’t you, mm.. Show me where the problem is? I’m sure I can fix it.” He suggests with that lustrous smirk of his.

“Right, then. Please follow me.” You smile prettily, plump lips purposefully jutting out just a little bit to get that same effect he had with his smirks and grins.

As you lead him to the bathroom, you don’t notice the hungry stare which was coming from him. Half-lidded eyes size you up and down multiple times as he takes in that corset of yours which defined your waist oh-so prettily. That soft, dainty colours of multiple cream coloured pearls which were connected on a thin string which clasped around your neck, a beauty to behold.

You were nothing like him. Dainty, pure, cladded with luxury only daddy could afford.

As soon as you closed the door to the bathroom, your back was forcefully met with the wooden panels which encased the whole room. A soft gasp escapes your lips, which lead to a string of multiple curse words muttered in a language you weren’t familiar with.

“Dios mios,” He lets out a low growl, mouth near your ear as his hot breath hits your sensitive skin, “Me vuelves loco, ¿lo sabías?” He slams his lips on yours, a knee positioned right between your legs to help stabilise yourself. Your little ballerina flats hover over the ground from his management.

“Making me travel so far to help you with something which never even needed mending in the first place.” He kisses your neck multiple times, “Cheeky girl.”

You needily press your lips against his, leaning into his warm touch. Finally, finally. After so long.

“Missed you,” You babble with a soft whimper, the feeling of his teeth teasingly sinking down just a bit, “Missed you so— Oh..”

You let out the most softest whines as he gently sucks your skin, “J—Javier— Hnn.. Daddy’s right next door..”

“I’ll be quiet, mi amor.” He murmurs, pressing another soft kiss on your neck, “You don’t know the effect you have on me.”

A hand slowly travels down, another coming to cup you from behind. “For now, let me enjoy what i’ve missed.”

#javier escuella x reader #javier escuella #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x reader #red dead fandom #rdr2 x you #javier #javier escuella x you #javier escuella x fem reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #fem! reader #afab! reader #javier escuella x fem you #rdr2 x fem reader #rdr x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x fem! you #arthur morgan x fem! reader

[hayisins]

arataki itto x begging !! ♡ "ugh . . . baby, please, i can't . ."

this prompt comes from this post !! so all credit to the idea goes to them ♡

contains : begging, animalistic sex teehee, overstimulation, size kink if you squint, creampies, afab!reader, service top!itto ♡

sometimes, having a boyfriend like itto has more than one perk. many actually. this man is an absolute saint. he loves hard and proves it through his copious amounts of love for the people in his life through different acts of service. being his partner was absolutely no exclusion from this. itto loved and cherished you deeply, everyone around you two knew it.

whether it was the large amount of lovebites on you at all times or even the way itto always had a protective arm around you in public, everyone was aware of the oni's love and passion for you. his smile when you'd walk into the room was brighter than a thousand suns and the way he talked about you was enough to make a married man feel single and lonely. you truly are the pride of itto's existence.

this being said, the man is rather addicted to you. itto will almost immediately do anything you ask him to without complaint . . so when you have him tied to a chair in your residence, sitting right on his lap where he cant touch or hold you. why it drives him crazy. it makes him almost feral . . but that's exactly what you want. he's grunting trying so hard to fight against the restraints you have on him but its all in vain.

"come on sunshine . . . this is so cruel !!"

he whines it like a child, a pout showing up on his perfect face in protest but you're not listening. you only roll your hips as to tease him even more, giggling to yourself at how pitiful all of this is. an oni, someone double your size, being tied down and pathetically begging to be released. all of this went to your head as you continued your motions. poor ittos cock was hard and threatening to burst out of its confinements.

"at least use your hand !! c'mon . . pleaseplease -"

you immediately cut him off with a kiss, making the oni whine into your mouth. all his sounds being beautifully swallowed up by you. he melts into this, trying to lean up to chase the softness of your skin as its the only part of you he's allowed to touch in this moment. you can feel a shift in him, something rather territorial as his breathing starts to get heavier and heavier. itto is reaching breaking point.

he lunges froward, the rope around his biceps snapping in a fury as now you're being pinned against the wooden floor. his breathing . . god is glorious. he's borderline panting in your ear, grunting and groaning as he fists a hand into his pants to free himself. there's no running from this. however, you believe that to be the case . . when all of a sudden his face softens once more. gentle kisses being placed against your exposed skin.

"that was torture . . please - let me take care of you. i'll do anything you ask just please let me touch you."

with the puppy dog eyes he's currently giving you, how could you refuse? with a small smile you nod and slowly sit up. you command him to remove your clothing as well as his own, the oni taking little to no time to do such actions. that's when the reality of the situation hit you. even though he was untied, you were still in control. he gave you the submission you wanted out of him without needing to be confined. itto was truly whipped for you.

your next command to him is something he'd more than happy to comply with. taking his length into his hands again itto now finds himself slowly pushing into the tight warmth of your walls, a loud satisfied noise leaving his mouth in pure bliss of such a feeling. truthfully, it has you biting your lip too. itto's extremely large and the bulging skin on your tummy proved this as he made his way fully inside of you.

he pounds into you with great force, a wave of moans and loud animalistic sounds following in his path. your vision blurs and you almost cant see straight. you want to cry out for a moment, to beg him to slow his pace but you knew that you truly didn't want him to. you wanted to be treated like this. this marks your first orgasm of the night. it has you shaking, spasming, and tugging at itto's hair. itto watches you like you're a movie. he stares, studying every single little reaction you make to the pleasure he gives you.

this is what makes him finish. he makes sure to pull your hips right down to his thighs, wanting to be fully inside of you while he cums. during his entire orgasm he's a mess of words,

"ohh fuck - you look so pretty - shit - archons i need to -"

is all he's able to get out before he's pounding into you again, both of you borderline screaming from such overstimulation so quickly after orgasm. this time its his turn to ignore you as you cry and beg for mercy, for him to let you take a moment to rest. he can't be bothered to comply this time, especially when you feel as good as you do. however he doesn't get far before he's whimpering again. itto pushes you into a mating press knowing just how good it feels for you. he howls in delight at such a nice feeling.

"ugh . . . baby, please, i can't . ."

the rest of his words fail him as he wails from the overstimulation. he finishes again, muttering copious amounts of things while he does - ranging from praises to degrading thoughts. it doesn't matter to him, nothing does but this - but you.

"you . . are like the biggest onikabuto you can find . . WAIT !! not like that - i mean like !! you . . are really rare . . and so so soooo pretty . . please, just a few more?"

those begging eyes never fail to work . . do they?

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #arataki itto #arataki smut #arataki x reader #itto x reader #itto smut #genshin itto #genshin #smut #gi smut

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

Can you please write a Kaz Brekker x reader fanfic where the reader mentions something they love or like to Jesper when they are talking and Kaz overhears and then starts buying her it like everday and like leaves it on the readers nightstand, but the reader doesn’t know who’s been leaving it until like someone else finds out and tells the reader? Please.

THIS IS SO CUTE

Caffeine

(Kaz x reader)

"Coffee? You drink coffee everyday?" Jesper asked. "Well something's got to keep me going." You said with a shrug. Kaz who was seated across from you at another table had a newspaper up, drinking his usual tea as he looked for a lead on a job. What you didn't realize was that Kaz had heard you.

He loved you so much but hadn't said anything. After all, who would return the sentiment to a man who was repulsed by being touched. He showed it in small gestures. Always giving you a free meal at the club, ensuring your safety on the streets, giving you your own room at the Slat, paying for your weapon repairs when you needed them. Inej and Jesper knew the real reason. They both knew Kaz loved you but wouldn't admit it. "She's an investment, nothing more." He told them. Investment. Right. That's all you were to him.

Kaz got up from his seat, you looking over. "Going back to the Slat?" You asked. He gave a silent nod. "I'll go with you, I'm pretty tired." You said getting up. "Probably a caffeine crash." Jesper said. "Oh shove off you." You said with an eyeroll. Kaz walked the lit streets of Ketterdam with you next to him.

There was a part of him that wanted so badly to know what it'd be like to actually love you. "Stop" he'd tell himself. "That is vulnerability. That is a weakness."

"Something on your mind Kaz?" You asked. "Mm? No. Nothing, why?" He asked. "You're just quietly staring at me pretty hard there. So." You said with a shrug, putting your arms around yourself to keep from getting cold. "You're cold." He realized. "Well sort of. It's not that big of a-" Kaz took his coat off, handing it to you. "Deal..." you finished, looking at the man with slight surprise. "Thank you." You said, taking the coat.

You could never get a full read on Kaz. Sometimes you thought he was a decent man, someone who'd never turn his back on you. Other times you agreed with Nina's mindset of him being slappable. It didn't help that he was gorgeous. Sometimes you had this urge to just run your fingers through his hair. You knew he hated touch though so you kept your hands to yourself.

His coat was too big for you of course, going slightly over your hands. "I have a new weapon." You declared, waving the loose sleeve at him. His heart exploded in his chest, him quickly looking away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. "I didn't think your arms were this long. Hmm." You said, stretching out your arms to see the size difference of the sleeves. He found you to be so adorable. It was frustrating. Is this how everyone saw Wylan?

When you reached the Slat, you gave him back his jacket. "Thanks for keeping me warm." You told him. He just nodded in response and you went to bed.

The next morning you woke up to a warm aroma. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw a coffee on your nightstand. You leaned up confused. Did you buy coffee last night and not remember? No, that wasn't possible. It was warm, it'd be cold if it was from last night.

You drank it, tasting a faint hazelnut. It was a pleasant feeling, waking you up enough to go downstairs where Jesper was sitting with Inej. "Thanks for the coffee." You said sitting next to Jesper. He rose a brow. "I didn't get you coffee." He said. You blinked. "Inej?" You asked. "No." She said. "Wylan?" You asked the boy coming downstairs. "What?" He asked. "Did you give me coffee?" You asked. "No? I'm not big on coffee." He shrugged. "Who the hell made me coffee?" You asked as Kaz walked past them. "Kaz, did you make me coffee?" You asked. "Yeah, right. Kaz make you coffee. Mark that up there with the saints themselves paying us a visit." Jesper said. Kaz ignored the group, walking out the door. Inej looked at you and then the door. She knew.

She had her sneaking suspicions about his intentions towards you for a while, but it seemed the coffee was the final nail in the coffin. Kaz was in love with you, he just wasn't saying anything. Knowing how stubborn the ass could be, there was a chance he'd never say anything.

The following mornings were the same. You'd wake up to coffee on your nightstand. It was a nice ritual but you were confused on who was leaving it for you. So you decided to sleep light. It was around eight when your door opened, you pretending to still sleep. You heard the person set down the cup and you looked over to see the last person you'd expect. "Kaz?" You asked making him jump.

"You're the one leaving me coffee?" You asked. "Uh... No?" He lied. He was the worst liar when it came to you. You leaned up looking at him. "Yes. I am." He said. "But... why?" You asked. "It makes you happy." He muttered. Your heart melted at those words. Something so trivial to you yet it clearly was a bigger deal to him. Your happiness was something he'd actively go out of his way for. And that made you want to kiss him.

"Kaz that's so-" "Ridiculous, I know-" "Sweet. I was going to say sweet." You corrected. He put a hand on the back of his neck, looking away nervously. "Have you always done things like this?" You asked. "No." He lied again. You looked at him with a squint, implying you knew more. "Yes. Yes I have." He sighed. "Kaz, why haven't you said anything?" You asked. "Because why would you care?" He asked. "Well if someone is doing things for them I should thank them. It's just polite." You said sarcastically. He sighed. "Kaz..." you said getting up.

He moved back. "Kaz, I care about you. I just... I need to know that-" "Why?" He asked. "What?" "I am a rude, selfish man who is known literally as the 'Bastard of the Barrel'. So why do you care about me?" He asked. Your gaze softened. "You keep me safe" You said moving closer. Kaz moved back again. "You make sure that I'm not starving" you stepped closer and Kaz gripped the dresser behind him. "You made me coffee every morning because you knew I liked it" you said looking in his eyes.

"Kaz, you keep me alive. You make sure I have what I need. I went from being alone to having a home. You have... you have become my home." You said softly. Kaz looked in your eyes. "If you'll let me... I will be yours." If he let himself fall for you, it'd be a great risk. You were a weakness. You were his weakness. He was shaking from how close you were to him. He hated touch and yet somehow you made him want to touch you.

You backed up. "Just think about it. Okay?" You said. He swallowed hard as you approached your bedroom door.

His hand clasped around your wrist, catching you off guard. You had never touched him before, you knew he hated to be touched. Not only was he touching you, he was touching you with his bare hands. You turned to face him, staring at him.

Why wasn't he feeling that nausea that always came with touching someone? He hated touch so much, he hated that feeling and yet... He didn't feel nauseous. He didn't feel upset or anxious. He looked in your eyes, you not daring to utter a word while in his grasp. He couldn't stop staring into your eyes. He saw so much in them. He saw stars in them, he saw a fire thar burned bright... he saw a bit of himself in them.

His other hand found its way to your cheek, you instinctively leaning into his touch. Oh how he nearly fell apart at that. He had debated for months on simply telling you that he had feelings for you. He technically hadn't said anything but his actions, especially at this moment were screaming his intentions. You couldn't resist that. Like gold being waved in front of a thief you wanted nothing more than for Kaz to just kiss you. You wanted to know the thoughts in his mind.

He didn't kiss you. Not right away at least. He rested his forehead on yours, the hand on your wrist sliding into your hand. You looked at him as he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "I have spent most of my life just... surviving. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely a human. But... there is something that reminds me that I am alive." He said softly. You wanted to ask but you couldn't form words when Kaz was this close to you. "You make me feel more human than anything else... And I am grateful for that." He said softly. You smiled slightly, holding his hand on your cheek. "I love you Kaz Brekker. Heart and soul. Body and mind." You said to him.

He smiled. He actually smiled. Something that very rarely came from him appeared in front of you. And you caused such a beautiful thing to occur. He kissed you, finally breaking a dam that had been nearly bursting for almost a year now. You smiled against his lips, looking in his eyes. "What?" Kaz asked quietly.

"I love seeing you happy." You said softly. He kissed you again with that same sweet smile. "I love you Y/n." He said softly. "And I love you Kaz." You said softly. He loved seeing those eyes looking at him. Your gaze was something that made him feel powerful and he had it now.

"If I known you'd be this grateful for coffee, I would've bought you a damn coffeehouse." He said making you laugh.

#kaz x y/n #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz x reader #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker #grishaverse #six of crows

[sea-owl]

@animelover4157

Here's their prompt!

I have always had an idea where Colin’s biggest threat for grabbing Penelope’s attention isn’t a suitor or Eloise.

No no no.

Colin’s biggest threat and nuisance is that he consistently have to fight a big ass dog (like a mastiff, cane corso, Saint Bernard, etc) that Penelope somehow convinced her mom to keep while in the countryside and is the very definition of a Velcro dog. It growls at any potential suitor that shows an interest in Penelope (it’s the reason why She doesn’t have suitors but Penelope is not aware of that).

For Colin, it does something worse. In the rare chance, that it is not next to Penelope, it will purposely move itself right next to/on top of Penelope so Colin cannot sit anywhere near her while it stares him down. This causes to Colin and the dog to race and wrestle one another to get to Penelope’s side with Colin losing 80% of the time and him glaring it down. Penelope thinks that they are playing and are getting along but is completely oblivious of the actual situation.

Tiny woman with a big ass dog. Classic.

Here's what I'm thinking.

So the Featheringtons were out in Ireland to visit Portia's brother, Mr. Finn Carroll, and his family. During their family visit one of the cousins introduced Penelope to the puppies their dog recently had. One of those puppies became attached to Penelope.

"Aw Portia look at that Penelope made a friend!" Finn said as he slid up next to his big sister.

"No," Portia immediately said.

Finn fully looked at Portia. "No?"

"No," Portia repeated. "Finn, I do not need a dog in my house."

"Oh, come on, Porshie!" Finn said, pulling out his puppy eyes and the childhood nickname. Tricks with a proven track record for him on getting what he wanted from his sister. "Let my niece have a puppy! You're already taking away her title as baby of the family!"

Portia sighed, rubbing her pregnant belly. "Finn, I am not dumb. We were both raised with an Irish Wolfhound. That dog will most likely get bigger than Penelope, and they're made for hunting large prey!"

"Yes, but you also know they make great companions!" Finn argued. "And doesn't Penelope need a friend?"

Portia will later blame her pregnancy brain, but when the Featheringtons went home, they brought a new puppy named Artemis with them.

Well, much like the goddess she was named after Artemis was a girl's dog and hated most men. She tolerated a few like the male staff, and she tolerated Lord Featherington on a good day. But most of the time, she stayed by Penelope's side.

"It is like she is sewn to your side," Felicity commented once as Artemis laid across both her and Penelope's laps.

Penelope laughs. "She just loves me."

Artemis barked in agreement.

At her full-grown height, Artemis was about the size of a small pony and was taller than any lord Penelope had ever seen if she stood on her hind legs. Artemis faithfully sticks by Penelope's side despite Portia's groans of dog hair in Penelope's dresses. Penelope only giggles when Artemis's response is to fully lay on her.

Artemis loves her life with Penelope and would only really change one thing. One tiny annoyance in her life.

That damn Colin Bridgerton. He's trying to take Penelope away from her! And he doesn't leave when she growls at him like the other men! He even growled back at her once!

The fool tries to race her too on the rare times she is not in her rightful place by Penelope's side. Why the fool thinks he'll win against her, she'll never know.

Today just so happened to be one of those days. Artemis was out in the park with her family. She was playing with Felicity and Penelope. The two girls throwing a ball attached to a string and having Artemis chase after it.

Artemis sniffed the air and stopped. She smelled Bridgertons. Looking around she spotted the family. Now the Bridgertons themselves weren't a bad thing, a few in particular she could do without and one wished was never around.

Well, it looks like today won't be the day Artemis's wish comes true. Just as she spots Colin Bridgerton he spots her as well. They stare at each other for a moment before both take off towards Penelope.

Artemis stared smugly at the Bridgerton as she once again claimed her prize of being next to her favorite human. Her head resting in Penelope's lap as Penelope pets her.

"One of these days Artemis I'm gonna beat you," Colin swore.

Penelope giggled. "It's so nice for you to play with Artemis Colin. I'm sure she loves racing with you."

Artemis turned her stare onto Penelope, headbutting her in the red head's torso. Playing? Absolutely not Penelope. Can't you see he's trying to steal you?

"You are coming to my family's country party? Colin asked Penelope.

Artemis stares back at Colin. Why hasn't he left yet? He's lost the race.

"Yes," Penelope replied.

Artemis huffed, leaning herself fully on Penelope. Going to Aubrey Hall meant a long carriage ride, AND Colin being around every waking moment. He was worse in the countryside where he had Penelope and Artemis trapped in his family home. Well at least Penelope won't be going to that bad smelling place she goes to ever few nights. Artemis hates when Penelope comes home smelling like that. To the point she almost considered getting Colin to go look for Penelope one night when the rest of the family. If only Penelope didn't lave her in charge of Felicity.

On the trip to Aubrey Hall, Artemis lay on the floor of the carriage by her family's feet. The rock of the carriage lulling her to sleep. At least with this trip, Artemis will have more space to run around temporarily before returning to London for another few months.

Another family was arriving as Artemis' own family were getting out of the carriage.

"Oh Portia!" The mother of the other family greeted Portia.

"Hello Mary," Portia said.

The older women started talking, meanwhile Penelope struck up a conversation with the older daughter.

"How are your first impressions of Aubrey Hall Kate?" Penelope asked.

Oh Artemis has heard of Kate. She likes Kate for how frustrated she makes Anthony. It's funny to watch when Artemis is visiting the Bridgertons with Penelope.

"H-hello."

Artemis looked around before feeling the wet nose of another dog boop against her leg.

Looking down, Artemis saw the smallest dog in her life. Was it a dog? It smelled like one, but how is a dog this small?

The smaller dog stared at Artemis. "I'm Newton! Newton Sharma!"

Oh this is Kate's dog.

"Artemis Featherington," Artemis said. Bowing her head a little so she wasn't towering over the smaller dog.

Newton began to tap his two front feet. Was he nervous? Artemis laid down to be at a more even eye level with him. "Perhaps this will be better to talk?"

Newton lets out a little yelp, one of excitement and moves closer. "Yes! Have you been here before?"

Artemis nods. "Many times. How are you dealing with your interloping Bridgerton?"

"You mean the Viscount?" Newton asked. Newton moved his head a little. "Well, I did knock him into the Thames the other day."

Artemis barked out a laugh. "I'll have to remember that the next time Colin races me near it."

Newton's feet did a few quick taps. Did he have to go? Artemis wondered if she should ask him if he needs privacy.

Before she could Artemis caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.

Artemis let out a whine. Oh great Colin has made his appearance and he has that mischief making smirk of his directed at her.

#newton likes his girls tall #im sorry i couldn't help myself #bridgerton #polin #artemis the irish wolfhound #newton x artemis #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #artemis x newton

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I would love to see bruce being beaten by his wife actually. also, i have a thing for hands with wraps all bloody and carefully taking the reader face for a kiss on the forehead

"Don't do that," Bruce corrected, readjusting your fist. "You have a lot of tiny bones in your hands. They break easily. Do it this way."

"I- but how do I- I mean almost anyone is going to be bigger than I am and stronger."

"Right," he acknowledged, "But I don't need you to be able to fight an army. I just need you to be able to stall for time... Or better still get loose and get away. As far as that goes, your size is an advantage."

You nod, still looking apprehensive and Bruce tried to remember things Alfred had taught him all those years ago. The way Alfred had taught him to make it stick in his head.

For all that Bruce had called you useless to your father, he knew that wasn't true. You were an apt student and diligent as a little girl and now as a grown woman, it persisted. Observant. It was just that you needed to sit with things for a while. To have time to wrap your mind around it.

He corrected you gently when you needed it but it was satisfying that he needed to do it more than once. Or perhaps twice. It was harder, it seemed, for him to remember not to raise his voice at you than it was to teach you how to throw a decent punch.

At the end, when you were clearly getting tired. He took you to sit down, putting you on the mats and carefully unwrapping your hands. "You did pretty well," he said, inspecting your hands for injuries- worried that if you couldn't paint it would get dangerous for you.

"Thank you," you murmur.

"One step at a time," Bruce said, remembering what Alfred had told him when he got discouraged when he couldn't immediately fight like Jackie Chan. "You did better than I did my first day-"

When you look up at him, slightly incredulous, Bruce smiled, "Seriously. I was 9 but... Alfred had to have the patience of a saint."

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #arranged!verse2.0

[butmakeitgayblog]

How is my favorite ball of floof, Sal?

I was just writing him today while waiting in the doctor's office 👀 he's good, he's good. Living his best life. Meeting one of his soon to be bestest friends ever

//////////////

The door swung up open before she could even finish her third knock. 

Clarke felt all the air escape right out of her lungs.

Because framed in the picturesque doorway was - possibly, potentially, easily debatable once her brain would start working again - one of the most beautiful women Clarke had ever seen in her thirty nine years of life. 

Just… not the one she'd expected. 

“Can I help you?”

Clarke blinked back at the rounded, deep amber eyes that stared at her in gentle questioning. Blinked at the sight of a messy curled bob of black hair that fell carelessly across the elegant line of petite shoulders. Dark brown skin looked almost velvety in the shadowed threshold between inside and out, and Clarke physically swayed foward on her toes just to catch a stronger whiff of her floral perfume. 

Mentally rolling her tongue back up into her skull, Clarke recovered enough to lean a sharp hook at the waist toward the left, just far enough to take another glance at the house number tacked on the side. 

‘Hm… Yep, I can still read…’

“I uh...” Clarke managed to right herself and actually stammer out loud when whatever celestial being she was gawking at only continued to look at her with serene patience, “Does, uh… Does Lexa live here?”

“Yes?”

Clarke frowned when nothing else came. “O-kay… Is she… Is she here right now?”

“Well I certainly hope so. Otherwise I'm breaking and entering.” White teeth shined in a perfectly aligned row when this riddle-baring goddess's lips bent into a teasing smile. But rather than feeling like the punchline of some joke she was being left out of, the effect of this sweet angel faced woman's charm only made Clarke smile in return. 

Before she could reconfigure the slog of words bumping around in her brain, a clatter of lazy tip-tap tip-taps grew loud enough to jerk Clarke's attention toward a rather large and decidedly hairy nose wedging its way into the exchange. A nose became a muzzle, became a panting white, black, and brown face. One with droopy eyes and even droopier jowls that nudged the door-guardian out of its way.

“Dude, c'mon.” Those ridiculously white teeth flashed in another soul brightening smile as the woman pushed herself away from where she'd been hip-checked into the door, and gave the beast-sized brute of a Saint Bernard a few scratches on the head. “Manners, my guy. What would your mother say about this kind of violence?”

Doleful eyes slid shut in a look of ecstasy at the rake of fingernails through his coat of cowlick laden fur.

A distant echo of muddled footsteps had the beautiful stranger turning, craning around to look behind her into the shadows of the house, which seemed entirely like an open invitation for Clarke to lift up on her toes and chance a peek into the darkeness beyond as well. Nothing gave itself away even as the padding of steps drew closer. Clarke rocked back onto the flat of her feet just before the door widened enough for another face to fit into the bizarre tableau, though it was the one single face that helped Clarke stop feeling like she needed to have an evaluation done of her own sanity. 

“What is the hold up out here— Clarke,” Lexa breathed as a smile lit up her blessedly familiar face. Glasses propped on top of her head and normal school attire button down exchanged for a tight knit Henley, the sudden vision of this entirely different version of Lexa added itself to Clarke's mental catalog of the woman. Lexa slipped past the mountain of a dog, giving it an absent command of ‘Back it up, big man,’ along with a snap and a point at the floor beside her that seemed sufficient enough to have him reversing several feet out of her way. She elbowed past the woman in the doorway to beckon Clarke inward with a wave of her hand. “Sorry, I didn't know it was you. Come in. You're early.”

“Uh, yeah. I hope that's not a problem.” Clarke floundered as she stepped in at the urging, eyes darting between Lexa and the dog who'd sat itself in a flop of limbs at her side, and the stranger now silently watching it all. 

“Not even a little.” The easy cadence of Lexa's words only helped to ease a fraction of Clarke's nerves. “You just said you couldn't make it for another couple hours.” 

Clarke tugged upward at the collar of her sweater that suddenly felt a touch too revealing. “I dropped Madi off with her dad a little early. Much to her numerous complaints.”

The soft tilt of Lexa's lips dipped into a frown. “Everything okay?”

“Of course. Just, getting her to understand that I actually had plans was met with great disdain. It's a theme we've developed, she and I. Ever since she's gotten her license, she doesn't seem to understand the concept that my car is not somehow now her car.”

Lexa's face relaxed into a kind of relieved understanding. “Ah, I see. A driving teenager. I don't envy you.”

“We're braver than the marines,” Clarke said amidst a roll of her eyes. 

In the quiet and fondness of Lexa's smile, Clarke let herself uncoil another fraction of an inch. She returned the soft sweetness of that green-eyed gaze with a herculean effort to not be the first to reach out. She'd pictured this moment more than a few times on the drive over - a few hundred more the previous evening, if she were being honest - but where'd she'd fantasized about just grabbing the woman and kissing her very pretty face off, possibly backing her into a hazy and ill-defined wall to have her way with her the second she would walk in, Clarke found herself rather perplexingly stuck to the spot. Unmoving in the relief of being in Lexa's space again. Unrushed and content to keep sharing smiles like a couple of idiots.

It was only an inelegant ruffle of fur and flapping jowls that broke the moment, followed immediately by a rather wet sounding sneeze prompting Clarke to finally drag her gaze away.

“You have a dog.”

Lexa glanced down at the mountain of black and tan fur at her side and back up. “I told you that I have a dog.”

“Uh, no,” Clarke laughed at that wild understatement and gestured to the device in her hand as though proof enough. “You text me an hour ago, ‘You're not allergic to dogs, right?’ And when I said no, you marked it with a thumbs up.”

Lexa seemed to pause in thought as her teeth worried at the plumped corner of her bottom lip. “... I did do that.”

“You did.”

“Okay, I think I might see where the breakdown in communication happened.”

“Solid work, Professor,” said a voice that drifted from over Lexa's shoulder.

“Your input isn't appreciated,” Lexa said to the startlingly still present but unidentified goddess hovering near the door. Forcing down a rather painful looking swallow as she nudged the glasses more securely up the slope of her nose, Lexa buried the obvious lede in the room and instead gestured to the hulking pile of dog sitting patiently where Lexa had left him. “Right, so I suppose introductions are in order then. Sal. This is Clarke. Clarke, this is my dog Sal. Sal, say hello.”

As if on cue, a giant paw went up in a clumsy mimic of a wave.

Clarke let out a surprised chuckle at the display, waving back on instinct before realizing that she was, in fact, waving at a dog. She let her hand drop. Idiot. “Hey, Sal. He's a… big guy, huh?”

“I'm convinced he's part moose,” Lexa sighed with an affectionate ruffle of Sal's ear. “In my defense, he was not this imposing when I got him.”

////////////

#anon #prof/stu au #teach me #lil sneaky sneak nothing special just a lil big guy Sal

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Cardinal Sins and Other Desires

Okay, I know I have other requests that were submitted first, but I this weekend is a writing weekend because I need to decompress my mind and I wanna do something fun

But this one was requested by @cantchoosejust1 who offered a very interesting idea of Arthur and reader having to disguise themselves as a priest and a nun....and have some...interesting times. 

I-

The idea is so juicy I had no choice but to do it. 

This is my take on it but of course @cantchoosejust1​ if it doesn’t match your expectations I’d love to take another stab at it!

It’s also probably gonna be a bit of a longer read, so strap in!

So

With that being said 

Warnings!: NSFW, Uhhh religious type things but it’s sexy so like....if that offends you don’t read, arthur being delicious, female reader 

Tags!: @mrsarthurmorgan7 @kieropal @photo1030 @pcotarelo @6kaja9

Alright, that being said, everyone, hold onto your butts, let’s get this horny train rolling!

“Dutch, this has got to be your dumbest idea yet.” 

Arthur scoffs as he looks down at the ridiculous looking outfit that Hosea and Dutch have managed to just barely squeeze him into, his arms raised out to his sides. 

A set of Priest’s robes that match the Nun outfit you’re wearing, and you can’t help but agree with him, you feel absolutely idiotic wearing the long black robe with it’s white accents and hood. 

The black robe Arthur dons is plain, matching black buttons, and something similar to a miniature poncho rests against his shoulders, that signature white collar sits around his neck, but if it’d been a single size smaller he’d be choking. 

“I have to agree.” You sigh and look down at yourself, and at the rosary beads that Hosea had placed in your hand. “This is a stupid idea. The two of us couldn’t pass off as religious figures, are you kidding me? I couldn’t quote a single thing from the Bible.” 

Arthur snorts in agreement and puts his arms down to his sides, looking up at his two father figures with a grimace on his face. 

It was early evening, and Shady Belle seems far more inviting than going out into Saint Denis, into a Church of all places too. 

“The two of you need to look on the logical side of this!” Dutch crosses his arms and stares at the two of you, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. “That Church has money in it, I know it does. We got a decent tip on it, and this is the best way to get in there and get it without causing a huge scene.”

“Why us though?” You can’t help but let the question slip out of your mouth.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like working with Arthur, quite the opposite actually. Arthur was fantastic to work with, he got the job done right, and he got it done quick, usually, if he could. He was precise, and he was good at what he did. 

The only problem between the two of you working is that you were often distracted watching him work. It was obnoxiously attractive to watch him reload his gun in the middle of a gun fight, his back against his wall and the calmest look on his face, sometimes annoyance, but never fear. It was one of the best things about him.

That was about the only thing that ever-caused problems working with him.

That and the fact that the two of you tended to get along a little too well if you’re left alone for too long. 

In both of your defenses the two of you have been together for nearly two years now, so it was only natural that it happened. 

But, your question, it was more directed at why the two of you for THIS specific job.

If anyone was suited for this kind of job it was Mary-Beth, Karen, maybe even Hosea himself, but Arthur? You? 

Arthur wasn’t exactly known for his play acting, or for his subtly.

“Because, the two of you are the best we have, you’ll get the job done, and the two of you are the only ones without jobs set up right now.” Hosea chimes in and quietly he walks towards Arthur, adjusting a part of his costume. “You’ll know what to do.” 

“Arthur’s not exactly...” You swallow, trying to think of a nice way to say what you needed to. “He’s not really the stealthy type.” You finish.

“That’s why you’re going with him.” Hosea huffs. “We were told that there’s a stash of money in the basement of the church, as long as you and him can get there and get it that’s all that matters, if he goes to step out of line then you can step in and steer the situation right.” 

“Don’t I get a say in all this?” 

“No Arthur, you don’t.” 

“So why not just send me in by myself?” You furrow your brow and cross your own arms now. 

“Because you can’t pass as ‘Father Morgan’.” Dutch snorts. 

“Ugh....’Father Morgan’.” Arthur shakes his head and looks towards the road leading out of camp, his horse and yours stand next to each other, grazing at the grass nearby. 

“Come on you two! It’ll be fun, go out for drinks afterwards! Our treat!” Dutch moves closer to the younger man and claps his shoulder with a hand, shaking Arthur slightly with a huge smile on his face. “It’s just one job, I promise, no more outfits for you for a while after this one Arthur.” 

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes, but swallows and nods before taking a step towards the horses. 

“C’mon Darlin’ let’s get this done with.” 

You roll your eyes as well but follow behind offering a bit of a timid wave to the two older outlaws, moving quickly to keep up with Arthur, who even in his new outfit seems to move much faster than you could. 

“This is ridiculous,” Arthur looks over his shoulder at you as the two of you reach your horses. “Look at this, look at me, I look stupid.”

You chuckle and smack his shoulder with the back of your hand as you mount up.

“You aren’t the only one Arthur, I look stupid in this get up too.” 

“Not as stupid as me, I’m surprised this damn thing hasn’t ripped yet,” He sighs and mounts his own horse, struggling slightly with the tightness around his arms. “They couldn’t find anything bigger than this?” 

“Apparently not,” You nod towards the road leading out. “Let’s get going cowboy, the sooner we get this done the sooner we can get out of these things.” 

“You’re right, I know.” 

He offers another sigh, but then turns to lead the two of you out of camp, setting off at a decent pace.

............

You lean your head against the side of Arthur’s bicep as the two of you lean around a wall, staring at the Church placed in a rather unfortunate location for the two of you.

It’s situated in nearly the center of attention, it’s not in an area that’s exactly easy for the two of you to sneak into it, the only way to go about it was to walk in with confidence that your disguises would work. ‘Stealth’ in the traditional sense wasn’t an option for the two of you two.

“Alright, so...” Arthur adjusts himself, standing a little straighter. “I guess we just walk in?” 

“I guess, try to seem Pious, straighten your back, look confident for once Arthur.” 

“Hey, I’m confident-” 

“Yeah when you’re drunk and when you’re robbing, just....Imagine you’re....”

You stop and huff, turning to face him as he stands against the wall of the building the two of you have hidden yourselves behind. 

“Play Dutch.” You finish.

“Play Dutch?” 

“You know, be....fuck Arthur just be obnoxious. Everything you do, pretend it was planned out, if you’re confident about it they won’t question a single thing.” 

“You think Dutch is obnoxious?” Arthur makes a sound that borders between a snort and a full laugh as he looks at you.

“Of course I do, but that’s not important right now.” You look back towards the church. “Just...Like I said be confident.” You reach up and gently move a lock of his hair behind his ear, it’s not too long, not enough seem out of place, but he definitely should have gotten it trimmed. 

“I know, it’s a mess.” He huffs and reaches up, covering your hand with his own. “Didn’t get the chance to stop and cut it with everythin’ goin’ on in camp. It’s gettin’ too long.” 

“Just keep it out of your face, you did good with your stubble, looks clean.” 

“Good, now, gimme a kiss before we do this.” 

You can’t help but smile at him, and offer him a quick kiss, which he makes longer as one of his hands grips your waist tightly when your lips make contact with his. 

He has a habit of deepening those kisses that you mean to be quick pecks, little messages of love that turn into something far more...promiscuous. 

You finally manage to pry yourself away from him, suppressing a laugh. 

“Arthur, come on, we’re gonna get caught, now go, I’ll follow.” 

“Alright, alright-” He starts to move away from you, but you grab his robe sleeve quickly.

“Sorry, don’t forget this.” 

You thrust a bible into his hand, and then give him a slight push. 

“Confidence Arthur!” 

“Alright, I got it, I got it, jus’ come on, you gotta come with me anyhow.” 

You wipe your hands on the front of your robes, feeling the palms of your hands get sweaty.

You stand a little straighter and follow after him as the two of you walk towards the church, trying to control the sudden set of nerves that have overcome your body. 

It’s late, the sun had set on the way into Saint Denis, in theory there shouldn’t be anyone in the church, or at least there shouldn’t be too many people in there. 

It was the middle of the week, there wasn’t a Sunday Service. 

Hopefully things would be easy for the two of you, as long as you could keep the charade up.

Nearing the church you could see two nuns talking to one another outside the front door, arms held in front of themselves, one hand over the other, and you quickly mimic the posture as the two of you continue. 

Luckily as you pass the two of them they do nothing but nod and smile at the two of you, which each of you return. 

As you pass through the doors you lean a little closer to Arthur, keeping your voice quiet.

“You’re doing great Arthur.” 

“I ain’t done anythin’ yet, that’s why.” 

You shake your head and swallow back the remark you want to say as you look down at the rosary in your hand. 

“Just look around, where’s the stairs to the basement in this place?”

“Don’t know, I ain’t ever been in here, I avoid the city and most religious places like the plague,” he whispers. “I’m surprised I ain’t burned up in flames yet.” 

You elbow him as subtly as you can.

“Shut up, if anything the both of us would be in flames by now if that myth was true.”

“Mhm...Awful crime, that premarital sex.”

“Arthur, I think it’s several other crimes that would cause us problems before that one.” 

“I guess you’re right, probably all the murder and robbin’.” 

“You think?” 

He offers a quiet chuckle, one of your favorite sounds, low and breathy, short and sweet. It’s cut off quickly as he looks to the left, seeing a door off to the side of the main room, away from the pews and podium.

“You think that leads down?”

“Don’t know, we’ll have to take a look.” You sigh and look around the room, it seems completely empty, at least from what you can see. “Let’s be quick about it.” 

“Right.” 

He leads you off towards the door, and as you reach it he opens it up, only to reveal a small closet that’s nearly empty, despite a broom in the corner and a few extra bibles on the top shelf.

“Damn, not it... We should look-” 

“Get in the closet!” 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” 

Your body is sparking with a sudden rush of anxiety, a sound from your right had sent it through you within a matter of seconds. Voices, is what it sounded like to you, quiet, but there.

“Just get in!” You shove him into the closet and follow after, closing the door in front of you.

The two of you are shrouded in darkness easily, and your body brushes against him, your back to his chest, and you listen as he grunts after hitting his head on the shelf.

“Jesus Y/N, the hell are you doin’?” He’s whispering, but there’s a familiar anger in his voice, well, perhaps its more annoyance.

“I’m sorry I panicked! I heard voices over by the pews...” 

“Well we’re dressed like this for a reason-” 

“We can’t get out of here now, they’ll wonder why we were crammed in here together.” 

“What, you’re sayin’ Priests don’t get freaky now and then?” 

“Arthur you know they don’t.” 

“It was sarcasm darlin’.” 

You take a shaky breath and Arthur’s arm snakes around your waist and he pulls you flush against his body.

“It’s alright Darlin’, we’re fine. What’s goin’ on with you tonight?” 

“I don’t know...something about a church, I feel like getting caught here is worse than getting caught in a bank.” You mumble.

“What, all that higher power nonsense?” 

“I don’t know, society does not take likely to thieves of the church.” 

“Darlin’ society don’t take a likin’ to any thieves I’m afraid.” 

You chuckle quietly and lean against him.

“You always know what to say, you know that?” 

“Mhm...I try...Now...you think you can take a peek out there, see if they’re gone?” 

You take a breath and do as he suggests, opening the door quietly and slowly, peeking your head out just barely. 

You listen, hardly moving, hardly breathing, until you realize you no longer hear anyone speaking.

“I think we’re good.” 

You step out of the closet and Arthur follows suit, and that’s when you see another door.

It’s straight across from the one that you just exited, and without another word to Arthur you head towards it, and pull it open, a feeling of relief flooding over you as you see stairs heading downwards.

“Good Girl...” Arthur’s voice is nearly a growl in your ear as he leans over your shoulder, he knows how that gets to you, he does, but in this instance you’re fairly certain he’s done it unintentionally.

He’s got a habit of making things attractive when he doesn’t mean to.

“Thanks Father.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Would you prefer Daddy?” 

“Not unless you wanna cause more problems for yourself Darlin’.” 

You chuckle and begin to head down the stairs, Arthur following you and closing the door quietly behind him.

The basement is dark, and almost damp feeling, you can’t see a damn thing and Arthur doesn’t have his trusty lantern with him.

“Well now what?” 

Arthur’s breath comes out warm against your shoulder and an arm wraps around your waist. 

“I don’t know, let me think.” He mutters. “I got my matches in my pocket.” 

“Your robes have pockets?”

“Course, yours don’t?” 

“No, it’s a fucking dress, so is yours I didn’t figure you’d have pockets.” 

“Please don’t refer to it as a dress, you’re ruinin’ my masculine reputation.” 

You roll your eyes but your hand finds its way to his thighs, patting along the robe in an attempt to find said matches

Of course he has matches on him, he can’t go more than an hour or two without a smoke. 

“Mhmm...careful, you’re gonna hit somethin’ else while you’re down there.” 

“Why the hell are you so horny right now, I’m not even wearing anything revealing-”

“Maybe I’ve been possessed, need some holy water...” 

“Arthur please, can we find the money?” 

“I’m sure we can, but I’m sure I’d be a lot more focused after...”

“Are you serious right now?” 

“Yeah, serious as a heart attack Sugar. Somethin’ about this place...somethin’ about that....the...shit...the idea of somethin’ like that in a place like this, a church...” He lowers his voice. “In public.....it’s doin’ somethin’ to me.” 

You know he means it, you can feel his hardness against your rear, you’ve been able to feel it since the closet, you just refused to say anything.

The basement seemed like the safest place, if you were going to do this.

Not only that but Arthur wasn’t the only one who had this sort of feeling.

The idea of being caught...It was exhilarating, and the idea of being dressed as a nun, yet committing such lewd acts...

You swallow, and grip the rosary in your fist fairly tightly.

“Possessed by the devil, not a demon.” You mutter.

“Maybe you should exorcise me....you are a nun after all.” 

You turn, and your eyes are finally adjusting to the darkness, you can see the look on Arthur’s face, the haze of red beginning to cover his cheeks.

“Maybe we need to fuck it out of you.” 

“Seems like it’s what he wants...” Arthur murmurs and his hands reach for your waist, and that’s when you catch him.

The rosary slips around his wrists easily, it’s a long beaded string with a cross on the end, longer than it needs to be, but long enough it works perfectly.

You know he can break out of this makeshift bondage easily, but he won’t, at least not on purpose.

He watches, his eyes hungry as you wrap the rosary around his wrists as many times as you can. 

“That’s new.” He snorts. 

“Maybe that demon will be more willing to leave with a cross on him...”

You have no idea what’s convinced you to slip fully into this sort of romanticized sort of scenario. You know he isn’t possessed, you don’t even believe in that kind of stuff, but....the idea that the only way to expel that ‘demon’ is to fuck it out of him...

It’s doing something to you. 

Luckily Arthur can catch on easily, and he follows your lead.

“Well, what the hell are you waitin’ for, you gonna fuck this demon, or are you gonna leave me tied?” 

Quietly, you step forwards, and unbutton the lower buttons of his robe, following after that his union suit which even in the dark you can see the outline of his dick pressed against his thigh.

His cock springs out the moment you get it unbuttoned, and without much of a thought you lick the tip of it, listening as Arthur sucks in through his teeth.

From there you move to the base of him, and lick along his shaft, moving towards the tip before taking him into your mouth fully, and that lovely voice of his comes tumbling out of his mouth in a groan.

He rests his tied hands against the back of your head, gently pushing his wrists against it in an attempt to partially guide you, gripping, or at least attempting to grip, at the hood of your robe.

“Fuck....I didn’t....shit I didn’t realize I was that...sensitive...right now.” He breathes out.

You hum against his skin as you bob your head, and again he lets a groan out.

You don’t do this long, and his dick comes out of your mouth with a satisfying pop.

“Nah, that....that ain’t fair-” 

“I said we’re gonna fuck it out of you Arthur, me sucking you off isn’t exactly a fucking.” 

He’s silent at your remark and watches in the dim light as you shuffle and manage to get your undergarments off.

He watches as you kick them to the side and then motion for him to near you.

He follows orders, the opposite of his usual dominating demeanor, but that’s going to change soon.

You simply turn around and face the wall nearest to you, placing your hands against it, and then arching your back out towards him.

“Oh....shit.” 

Arthur swallows, and it’s only a moment before his mind seems to be taken over.

His hands are still tied, but thanks to your earlier endeavor his dick is exposed, and all you have to do is pull up your skirt.

His arms come over your neck, his hands still confined, now settled against your collar bone as he manages to get his cock lined up with your slick.

He pushes into you roughly, enough to make you cry out, and from there he’s unable to move slowly.

His hips snap against yours, deeply, roughly, needily.

“Jesus Christ...” He huffs.

“He ain’t doing...much to help...you right now.” You manage to get out as your cheek rests against the wall, your body moving in tandem with Arthur’s, back and forth, your breasts grazing the wall.

“No...he ain’t....fuck....you sure you ain’t the devil?” 

You twitch your hips, moving against Arthur in an attempt to get a deeper angle.

“Maybe...” Your face is hot, your neck too.

You listen to the sounds he makes, each little grunt or groan pushing you forwards.

“This ain’t very....fuck....this ain’t very holy of you.” 

“Sometimes....you need different....solutions..” 

There’s a noise the sounds from upstairs, and suddenly Arthur’s hands are pressed against your mouth as he continues to rut into you. 

“Shhh....quiet Sugar...you don’t want us to be caught do you?” He whispers.

His thrusts get harder, and you bite down on his hand, the area you can get to, you think it’s the side of his thumb, doing your best not to hurt him, but it’s the only thing you can do to stop the moan building in your throat.

You love it when he’s rough with you, and this position, these clothes, getting caught now would only make things hotter.

You know exactly how Arthur would react, and a part of you hopes that someone will, but you know it’s for the best if they don’t.

“Fuck....’demons’....jesus...fuck...” Arthur’s attempt at another suave sentence fails as his hips smack yours again and again.

You lick his hand, leaving hot breath against his skin, and listen to him do his best to suppress a sound that rises to his throat.

“You tryna get us caught? For a Nun...you’re kinda....a slut...” He huffs out. 

“Yours Father Morgan...” The words are uttered against the side of his hand in a whisper, but he hears it and he swallows, trying again to keep his voice from raising.

“Please....Harder...” 

“Christ Woman, maybe you are possessed.” 

“Harder...” You plea again, pushing your hips back against his, roughly hoping he takes the hint, which you’re lucky and he does.

“You know....I...fuck...I could finish you...if I had my hands....” 

You offer a grunt in response and watch as he pulls his wrists apart and the beads scatter around the room, pinging against the floor in every direction.

His hands fly to their places almost like it’s instinct.

One against your throat and the other to your clit.

He circles it, matching up his speed with the thrusts against your ass.

“You thought you could keep me like that, but sorry Darlin’...I just couldn’t do it any longer.” 

His voice is breathy, and he leans forwards, kissing your neck, listening to the sounds that escape your mouth,.

He only stops when the sound of the basement door comes. 

He’s quick to move, his cock still buried inside you as he pulls you around the side of a wall.

No one would see you there, not unless they walked around.

He places a palm against your mouth and he leans his back against the wall, only to thrust upwards into you, slowly, making sure his body and yours wouldn’t make a sound.

“Someone down here? The church is closed for the night I’m afraid!” 

Arthur moves slowly, his hips still gently rocking against yours, it’s nearly torture, and you want to beg him to move faster, but to quell it you bite his palm, just as you’d done earlier.

“Hello? Anyone?” 

His dick pulls out gently, and he has to do his best to keep a groan in his throat.

“Must be hearing things.” 

The two of you listen as the person heads back up the stairs and the door closes.

You let out a deep breath and as soon as you do Arthur’s pace picks up.

He’s fast, thrusting into you with a speed that seems like he’ll die without feeling you clench against him.

His hand comes back to your neck and the other back to your clit.

He’s persistent, and after a moment you know why.

His hips begin to get erratic, the rhythm and speed are off, and his breathing against your neck gets hotter, they turn from deep breaths into panting.

“Sugar....you nearly there? Princess...I’m....soon.” 

You can’t do anything but nod, leaning your head against his shoulder as he keeps you moving.

The hand around your throat moves to cup your breast, squeezing it through the cloth.

“Love the way these bounce...” He mutters. “Even clothed it’s a sight...” 

“Arthur,” You close your eyes, your arm moving to come around his neck, the other slapped against the wall.

“Mhm....you’re almost there, I can hear it in your....fuck...in your voice.” 

It’s a few more of these hard fast thrusts and then suddenly there’s a warmth that fills you and you yourself come apart as Arthur’s fingers continue to circle your clit.

Arthur groans in your ear and puts his forehead against your shoulder, breathing deeply, trying to catch his breath.

You’re silent for a moment.

“You broke my rosary.” 

“Oh, like you were ever gonna use it after this.” 

“Maybe on you, back, back I say, may the power of Christ compel you-”

“Oh, you need more than Christ to compel me Darlin’.” 

You chuckle and the two of you manage to get untangled, not before Arthur whispers in your ear about the mess he’s made.

“Gonna have me all over you, hidin’ under that outfit of yours....you ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary are you...”

“Shut up Arthur, the ‘demon’ is supposed to be gone, let’s find that damn money and get out of here, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me when we get back to camp.”

“Good, not like you were gonna stop me anyhow.” 

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 drabble #arthur morgan smut

[teecupangel]

Did tumblr eat my ask? Or is it just taking awhile? I’ll ask again just in case , and u can ignore it if it wasn’t. Time travel Des gets turned into an animal au, but this time he’s a slugcat from rain world, they’re cute, generally good at parkour, and can have different abilities (artificer can make explosives, spearmaster can make spears from its tail,etc.) so Des could have one of the canon abilities, or he could have a unique one. (Or one from a mod lol)

Noooo, your ask wasn’t eaten by Tumblr nor did I ignore it. I’m still answering asks and reblogs from July 26 (which has your ask as well and that was why I was able to answer this now) TTATT

I’m sorry for the delay. TTATT

Anyway, on to the ask.

For those unfamiliar, the Slugcats are the playable characters in the game Rain World.

And look at how adorable they are:

Honestly, I was debating on just keeping him purely Survivor because Survivor is white.

But let’s shake it up a bit.

Desmond’s slugcat ‘type’ changes depending on various conditions:

He’s primarily the white Survivor (base stats) when he’s alone or doing his own thing. This is how his ancestors first saw Desmond and how he’s usually described later in history as a symbol of the Brotherhood.

He turns gold (yeah, not yellow) as the Monk when he’s safe with one of his ancestors, usually curled around the neck and hidden by both the hood and the robes itself. He’s quite warm in this state and tends to purr a lot. He tends to not be that combat-oriented in this state.

He turns red as the Hunter when he’s… well… hunting mostly. Looking for and stalking preys would usually turn him red. Ratonhnhaké:ton is the ancestor who sees this a lot.

He turns into the plump Gourmand when he has eaten quite a lot. This happens a lot with the Auditores because they just love to feed him. He’s slower but he can use his larger body to slam against things and other people. More often than not, he just rolls into a ball and tries for strikes.

Artificer (magenta?) and Spearmaster (purple) are the states that usually appears before Altaïr.

Spearmaster appears when Altaïr has no more throwing knives and he would use the spear that appears on Desmond’s tail instead. Because of this Altaïr actually changed to Desmond’s spears instead (since they’re about the same size of his throwing knife) and Desmond usually helps and flicking his tail turns the spear into a projectile weapon whenever they’re forced into open combat.

Artificer first appeared when Altaïr started working on the hidden gun and his explosive capabilities are usually used for control demolitions. Artificer is more or less just studied when he was with Altaïr. It’s Ezio who turns Desmond into a walking timebomb of distraction and demolition. The requirement to making Desmond an artificer seems to be that he had to smell gunpowder. He turns into an Artificer once he sneezes.

Rivulet (water) is the easiest state to change to. Get Desmond wet and he’d turn into a Rivulet. As long as he’s wet, he’ll stay a Rivulet but… once he’s dry, he’ll return to being a Survivor unless there’s another state requirement being fulfilled (like being wrapped in a warm blanket to dry off while in his ancestor’s arms would turn him into a Monk instead).

Saint’s (green) requirement is a bit of a mystery though but the most possible explanation is that Desmond turns into a saint when he needs to freerun and thinks he needs to use the Saint’s long tongue to grapple and swing from ceilings, walls, tree branches, etc. Saint’s the most frail of his states and Desmond tries to change his states as soon as possible whenever he turns green.

… I feel like whenever one of his ancestors die, Desmond gets a slugpup (maybe it just… splits from him? Or it slithers out of the ancestor’s body?) and follows Desmond around. The slugpup doesn’t shift states but usually tries to help Desmond whenever it can. Desmond’s pretty sure they’re reincarnated slugpup of his ancestors… or maybe he just wants to believe that. Slugpups are very affectionate towards Desmond and Desmond treats them more like his kids than minions.

Desmond names his Slugpups on the ancestor they ‘come from’. Slugpup!Altaïr has the Dominance trait which means he will pick up things he thinks he can use and use them. This is usually not weapon and more like utility items like smoke bombs and even just food he would give to Desmond once he starts to feel sluggish. He also likes to stay with the other slugpups and Desmond isn’t sure if he’s acting as their leader or their big brother… maybe both? Slugpup!Ezio is more on the Energy side and he tends to grab shiny things that are usually expensive af. Slugpup!Ratonhnhaké:ton is an Aggression type and prefers to have a weapon. Mostly, he would have a spear or one of the Assassins’ throwing knives.

#desmond as a slugcat #the slugpups can be desmond’s actual ‘children’ #or reincarnated slugpups of his ancestors #your call #desmond is turned into an animal subgenre #desmond is turned into a creature subgenre #to anyone who has sent me asks that i haven’t answered yet #i promise i haven’t ignored them #i’m just a month behind in the asks TTATT #i’m answering asks in a fifo basis #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot #desmond gives birth to his ancestors

[hometoursandotherstuff]

1965 Traditional home in Ladue, Missouri has 6bds, 10.5ba, plus some very unique and unusual decor. $4M + $146mo. HOA fee

This is the entrance hall and it looks a bit empty. I think that it could look more dramatic.

Stepdown sunken living room has large swirling columns on the fireplace wall.

I would like the silver ceiling better if they'd used something other than reproduction Victorian tin ceiling tiles. Note that there is a double dining room table, so there's plenty of room in here.

That was the formal dining room, this is the informal one.

The black & white kitchen looks a bit cold.

In addition to the 2 dining rooms, there's also this everyday dining room.

This dining room opens to the family room.

The principal bedroom is open to other rooms, plus a roof top deck.

It's open to this sitting room/home office/kitchenette. Those lights are unusual.

The en-suite bath has a glass enclosure around the tub to keep in the moisture from the shower. I've never seen anything like this. I would rather have a separate shower.

Look at the large closet.

There's also an office.

This is sort of a connecting room, but it's still a sitting room with a little kitchenette.

And, that room leads into this one, which also has a desk. How many sitting rooms does one house need?

Well, it clearly needs more, b/c here's another one.

And, those rooms lead into this one that has a floor actually made of geodes.

And, guess what is also in this sitting room? Another dining room.

Looks like a music room.

The wine cellar. I wonder if those sarcophagi are built-ins.

There's a large game room.

Here's another full-size kitchen.

And, it opens to the pool.

The pool is completely enclosed.

Behind the fountain is a large 2 story guest house.

It's quite an impressive home in itself.

I've never seen a home gym with a double door refridgerator.

But, before we leave, let's visit the last dining room.

The sprawling estate is on 3 acres of land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/9801-Log-Cabin-Ct-Saint-Louis-MO-63124/2773976_zpid/

#traditional style estate #houses #house tours #home tour

[bimrsadler]

could you do an f!reader who is wealthy and actually decides to become patron to the gang, letting them stay at their manor on the outskirts of Saint Denis? she asks for a personal guard in turn, which she asks High Honor Arthur to fill the role of. She's tiny, petite even (like 4'9"-ish) and very femme but with a sharp, elegant tongue.

she likes to hang out with Arthur and show him the wealthy side of life while he shows her the lifestyle of being out in the country. All the tensions and staring of a rich, unmarried lady out with a rugged outlaw of man? Perfect bait. 👀

Fluffy or NSFW or just sexual tension is okay! Feel free to go all kinds of ways with this if you do take the rq, ty!! Love your work!!

Fortune Favors the Bold

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word count: 4,600

Warnings/tags: nsft, use of guns/light violence, high honor Arthur, fluff, mutual pining, unprotected piv, dirty talk, size difference, use of pet names

Notes: you gave me a lot to work with anon so I decided to just have fun and make this a longer one, sorry it took a bit but I hope it’s what you were looking for!

Walking around Saint Denis it was hard not to feel eyes on you wherever you went, you were an odd couple after all.

Couple. It wasn’t a word you ever thought you’d use to describe you and Arthur Morgan. Truthfully you weren’t an actual couple; not in the literal sense anyway, but you did enjoy a partnership of sorts and it felt comfortable enough to call him your friend.

As you explored the streets together your differences could not be any clearer, the sun glinted off the gold around your neck while the only gleam on Arthur was off the cold steel of his revolver.

An air of grace and elegance followed you wherever you went, wealth represented in your high end dresses.

The man at your side the complete opposite.

An air of intimidation and ruggedness followed Arthur, worn clothing indicative of his rough lifestyle.

And of everything about him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to, it was the fact that he towered over you that was most alluring.

Being of high status and short stature — you were an easy target. Meeting the Van der Linde gang for the first time was nerve wracking to say the least, knowing that if they wanted to harm you they could in no time.

But the man who introduced himself as Arthur Callahan with the badge on his vest was clearly not a real deputy, and knowing of the Grays and Braithwaites; you weren’t particularly upset at their scheming.

Before Arthur and Dutch could warn you not to tell anyone — you proposed working together instead.

While they were no doubt dangerous criminals, they were more understanding than you expected and most of the gang fun to be around. Leery of you at first, they knew it was advantageous to have someone of your status on their side, and found there was more to you than how you presented on the outside.

While your family was away, you offered the manor as a safe-house for the gang and they gave you Arthur in return. It would take a lot of bold stupidity to make an attempt on you when a man like him was by your side.

It wasn’t unusual to get curious men asking what a woman like you was doing with a man like Arthur, to which you would warn them to mind their own business. And if they were more brash than curious? Well it didn’t take long for them to learn their mistake when Arthur came over.

Not everyone looked at Arthur like he didn’t belong though. Outlaw or not, he was arrestingly attractive; pulling in wandering eyes from the upper and lower class alike.

People always seemed pleasantly surprised at how well mannered he was as well, greeting passerby’s with a hat tip and a “ma’am,” listening to strangers stories and stopping to pet street dogs. Really since you’d met — he was primarily only a threat to those who were a threat to you.

The two of you grew curious about each other, with your lifestyles and upbringings being so different. Everything about the gang was exciting to you and you cautiously wanted to explore it. Arthur had a harder time admitting he was interested in what your side of life had to offer and felt uncomfortable with how foreign it felt.

But you caught him eyeing the beautiful things in your home, letting his fingertips glide along the piano keys, smirking at the expensive weapons mounted and fine whiskies.

It was the art that he took a particular interest in however. He was shy about it at first, gazing at the framed paintings on the walls wanting to know more about them but too nervous to inquire.

So you would stand beside him and tell him the history of it, of the artist, as he stood scratching his beard intently listening.

“Hmm,” he’d mumble dryly — trying to downplay his curiosity but giving himself away by quickly pointing to the one beside it, “and how ’bout this one?”

Arthur never felt fully comfortable in fancier settings but you loved bringing him to dinners and plays with you. When he lost himself in the dishes and dramas meant for the higher class, he fully enjoyed himself.

You never felt at ease in those situations either though, always needing to show a performative smile and appear proper was exhausting. So after the parties you would surprise Arthur by asking him to take you to a saloon or maybe just a stroll in the woods, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Arthur was hesitant when you asked to take trips with him however; worried you didn’t understand what you were getting into.

“No offense Miss but I don’t think ya know what yer askin’.”

“I may be rich but I’m not dumb — Mister.” You said with a sarcastic hiss. “I’d like to learn.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and agreed reluctantly, clearly assuming you would just be deadweight.

But you were a quick learner, and you enjoyed it.

It was exhilarating learning to shoot and skin, and much to Arthur’s surprise you had no qualms about looting with him or being the lookout on a job.

Your favorite nights however were the ones under the stars and beside the crackling fire. You would take the sounds of the slow moving river and rustling pines over the ramblings of relatives whose only talking points were property prices and fine China, any day.

A truth you were anxiously coming to terms with was the fact that you also loved all of this because of Arthur. You could spend hours listening to the husky timbre of his voice excitedly tell you the stories that only a Hell-raising outlaw could.

And yet he was just as enrapturing while sketching quietly or baby-talking his horse as he brushed and fed it.

This evening in Saint Denis was the culmination of all of those nights of curiosity and company.

You had woken up early that morning, Arthur journaling on the couch as you approached him.

“I have an idea cowboy.”

He closed his journal and raised an eyebrow.

“You guys still need money right? Well you and I could make a killing in Saint Denis…”

Arthur sighed and closed his journal, “meanin’?”

“Without you on my arm I’m an easy target in the wrong part of town. You could hang back and I could just draw them out,” you raised your eyebrows excitedly.

Arthur stood up waving his arms in the air, “absolutely not. You crazy woman?!”

“First of all, we would make a good team. Second, do not call me ‘woman’.”

Arthur seemed to take your scolding to heart, shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry…”

Walking over to you with a softer tone he continued, “just wouldn’t forgive myself if somethin’ happened to ya. I know yer capable but…these things can be unpredictable.”

“Maybe so, but I trust you. Now c’mon Arthur, live a little,” you teased with a wink.

That was all it took, though he continued complaining about going against his better judgment.

Dolling yourself up in your finest that evening, you stood in front of the mirror — scared and excited.

Arthur came in slowly after a delicate knock. In the reflection you caught him pausing at the sight of you, eyes roaming and expression softening.

“You uh…ya ready?”

“Almost, I just…can’t get this necklace to clasp,” you laughed nervously.

“Oh uh…well lemme help then…”

Arthur’s boots were heavy on the floor but his approach was slow and considerate. Handing him the necklace, he draped it around your front, cold metal brushing against you.

The combination of his warm and broad chest hovering against your back with his calloused fingertips ghosting along the skin of your neck, brought forth goosebumps you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Watching in the reflection, a slight tremble kept him from joining the two sides of the necklace. “Damn fingers are too big,” he chuckled bashfully.

“It’s okay,” you spoke quietly with a reassuring smile.

Finally it clasped together, the emerald jewel coming to a rest at the swell of your cleavage. Before Arthur stepped back, his knuckles lingered on the nape of your neck as he dragged a fingertip along the golden filigree.

“So…would you steal this from me Arthur?”

“Well, you’d definitely catch my attention,” he said warmly before stepping back.

Trying not to read into Arthur’s response, you absentmindedly adjusted in front of the mirror. “Haven’t worn this dress yet, wasn’t sure if I liked it…”

“Why? Y’look beautiful,” Arthur stated.

You felt a flutter spread in your chest and stomach while watching him fumble with his gunbelt in the mirror.

“I uh,” he cleared his throat and motioned toward the door, “we should get goin’.”

All eyes were on you as your large bodyguard walked protectively by your side. You meandered through the city waiting for nightfall, listening to the street performers and perusing the shop windows.

As the sun dipped below the horizon you and Arthur made your way behind the saloon.

“Now you catch someone’s eye ‘n bring ‘em out here,” Arthur pointed to the dark of the alleyway, “I’ll be right down there.”

Clasping your shoulder with his bear paw of a hand he implored, “please be careful.”

“Always am Mr. Morgan,” you winked with a confident smile though your heart was racing.

You watched as he concealed the lower half of his face with a black bandana, leaving only his eyes to be seen under the wide brim of his hat.

Only in the faint light of the streetlamp did you realize that Arthur’s eyes were the same shade as the jewel around your neck. Your heart was pounding for more reasons than one.

The night wore on with the usual bothering from drunk and foolish men — mostly harmless, buying you drinks (that you only pretended to sip) and asking why you were alone.

You fiddled with your necklace and purse, making sure to draw any attention from types you wouldn’t want noticing.

And it did. A dirty and angry looking man in the corner caught your eye. He wasn’t drunk and he had been watching you closely for most of the night.

As the music and clamoring picked up in pace and volume you headed toward the swinging doors in the back; sure enough he followed in your peripheral.

Each second as you made your way into the alley became more and more urgent, heart pounding and sweat dripping while you kept your hand close to your purse — should you need to use the knife Arthur gifted you.

The man closed in quickly, not touching you yet but attempting to intimidate with his presence. “Better stop right there girl…”

Turning around slowly you looked at your mark. He was big — but not as big as Arthur.

“Ain’t anyone teach you not to be alone in places like this?” He sneered with an air of superiority.

You watched Arthur’s bulky frame come into view from behind the shadows, “who says I’m alone?”

The gun in Arthur’s hand pressed to the man’s temple, “ain’t anyone ever teach you to be a gentleman?”

Arthur chuckled darkly, “now…I’m gonna hand that gun in yer holster to the fine lady,” he pressed the revolver harder into the man’s head, making him flinch. “— an’ if ya try anything I’ll blow yer goddamn head off.”

Arthur’s voice was deep and dark and almost made you feel bad for the man, but mostly it stirred something within you.

After the gun was given to you, Arthur began rummaging through the pockets to find money and trinkets.

You knew what the two of you were doing wasn’t right either and Arthur was a bad man, but he was good to you and there was goodness inside of him.

And at that moment? Electricity surged through every inch of your body with exhilaration and you had trouble finding sympathy for a man who would corner a woman by herself.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The reality of the situation hit hard as a police officer stopped at the end of the alleyway — clearly seeing that it was Arthur robbing the man.

“Oh thank God you’re here officer!” You threw a shaking hand up to play the victim, “please help us!”

You felt terrible for the brief panic in Arthur’s darting eyes as he seemed unsure if you were betraying him.

It didn’t last though. Using your other hand you quickly pointed the gun you kept hidden from view and fired above the officers head.

Arthur understanding that it was a way to buy time, hit the man with the butt of his gun in an attempt to knock him out.

Swiftly grabbing your wrist he pulled you through the saloon, the drunk and confused patrons slowing down the cop in pursuit.

“The hell was that?!” Arthur demanded under his breath.

“Me trying to save our skins — you’re welcome!”

“I’ll thank ya if we make it outta here alive,” Arthur taunted as he found the closest horse to steal. He pulled you with no effort at all, your feet leaving the ground in the blink of an eye.

You wrapped an arm around Arthur’s tight core and pointed the gun behind you with the other, the galloping horse keeping you from a steady aim.

“Arthur where are we going?!”

“Jus’ hold on I’ll figure it out!”

Approaching a bridge you noticed that the view was partly obscured by willow trees, making it a good time as any to throw off the lawman.

Aiming to the best of your ability you shot behind you again, hoping to stall and not harm him. At that moment Arthur took a hard right into the grass and through the trees.

A proper lady’s place was not on the back of a horse with a wanted man, nor was it in a seedy alleyway with bad intentions. But there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

Nestling the gun in the saddlebag, you clung tightly to Arthur’s midsection and buried your face between his shoulder blades.

He was warm and strong and the wind in your hair cooler now, every sense heightened from the rush surging through you.

Slowing to a trot Arthur pulled to a grassy clearing and stopped. “Think we made it…”

He dismounted and grabbed you by the waist to help you do the same, bodies flush as your feet hit the ground.

“Wasn’t exactly a perfect heist but…you handled yerself well sweetheart.”

Arthur’s arms still hovered around you loosely as he spoke beneath his bandanna. His eyes searched yours as you brought your fingertips to his face.

Slowly, you removed what kept his lips from you and ran your thumb along his stubbled cheek. You admired the chestnut locks that fell carelessly along his brow and the way his broad chest heaved at your touch. All you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop kissing him.

“I feel like I could do anything right now Arthur…”

A smirk formed at the corner of his lips with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. Standing on your tiptoes your brought his face to yours for a slow, delicate kiss.

Though he looked dumbstruck and returned the gesture, he pulled back for a moment. “I want this but…I’m no good for ya girl. I’m only good at fightin’ and robbin’…you know that.”

“Bullshit Arthur.” The look on his face was priceless, seemingly more shocked to hear you swear despite just seeing you shoot at the law.

“Bullshit. You have goodness in you too and I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.” Arthur watched you in disbelief.

“You’re good at protecting me and the way you touch me is kind and it makes me feel safe. I want you to keep touching me like that Arthur…”

A flicker of pride flashed on his face. The only time you could tell Arthur felt good about himself was when he helped others and he especially took a shine to helping you. Being a protector let him realize he was capable of being good at more than just robbing and fighting.

“Fair enough,” he said bringing you back in his embrace. “But I need to hear ya say it.”

“I want this Arthur, you have no idea,” your words were breathy and impatient.

His grip on you was tender but somehow still powerful despite not using any of his real strength. You felt positively tiny in his arms.

His mouth opened more for you, allowing curious flicks of your tongue on his; light whimpers combining. Hands began moving more hungrily — yours down his chest and his up your thigh.

Months prior you might have felt shame at the ache between your legs and the desire urging your hips forward; but now all you cared about was Arthur dousing that fire.

“Sweetheart it shouldn’t be like this…”

Your heart dropped, unsure of where he was going with that statement. “Wh— what do you mean?”

“Well I—look…” Arthur stuttered, trying to find the right words with a reddening face. “You deserve better’n layin’ in some grass in the woods like this.”

He paused to think and fiddle with his suspenders before continuing, “least lemme take ya back to the manor. Wanna make it, y’know…proper.”

You considered telling Arthur that you wanted it here, still riding the high of the night; being outside after barely escaping would only add to the thrill.

But Arthur didn’t want that. He wanted to treat you special and give you comfort and patience. He didn’t need to be the rugged outlaw anymore that night, he just needed to be your suitor.

You already got to play cops and robbers, maybe it was his turn to play the gentleman.

Sighing with relief you took Arthur’s hand, “well just so you know, here would be just fine with me.” Planting a reassuring kiss on his cheek you headed toward the horse, “but you can take me home.”

Arthur took a longer, more secluded route through the woods in case someone was still looking for you.

It wasn’t easy being patient, the tension palpable and the anticipation exquisite.

As you lurched forward with the horses gait you replayed the kiss and wandering hands in your mind.

You couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt, to feel the curve of his muscle, to make him whine with the touch of your fingertips, and God you couldn’t wait to feel his on you.

You wanted him to squeeze you and mark you in every intimate place that was usually kept hidden. To thrust and curl and fill all of you.

Positioning yourself higher on the saddle you let your hands roam along his waistline and kissed the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

Arthur leaned his head, allowing you to kiss and nip at more of his sensitive skin. He responded with his rough hand grasping your calf. Ever so slowly it pushed up your dress and glided along your thigh.

Your hips instinctively rolled forward to the small of his back, Arthur kneading the fat of your thigh as your wetness grew.

It really wasn’t easy being patient.

You keened, “how much longer baby?”

“Jesus,” Arthur sighed while rolling his own hips at the air. “Gonna be there soon.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me Arthur…”

“’M’gonna take off that dress you look so goddamn gorgeous in and feel how soft y’are.”

“Gonna feel how soft I am everywhere?” You teased with a light bite to his ear.

Arthur grunted a yes, “gonna part them pretty legs and make ya feel good darlin’. You gonna be good’n wet for me?”

“Oh you could sink into me right this second Arthur.”

“My God girl,” Arthur said taken aback. “Never thought I’d hear ya talkin’ like that…”

“I’m full of surprises.” You snaked your hand down to his lap, lightly ghosting over his straining manhood. “And I see you’re ready for me.”

Arthur shuddered with a groan, “painfully so.”

Laughing together you continued teasing touches and lustful whispers until the manor came into view.

Arthur sent the horse off and though it was late, the two of you snuck in should any of the gang still be up.

As the doors of the bedroom closed behind you, Arthur lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you to a wall your kisses were passionate and rutting slow.

Carrying you over to the bed, Arthur sat you at the edge and positioned himself behind.

Though they trembled slightly with nerves, he moved with unhurried and adept hands; carefully untying and undoing each bit of your dress and corset.

Despite the prior buildup and desperation, Arthur worked with incredible consideration and care — making sure not to harm your dress and kissing and caressing all newly exposed skin.

As the last of the confines on your upper body fell down your shoulders, Arthur massaged a breast in each hand from behind, kissing your neck and whispering praises in your ears.

Moving to the floor he knelt in front of you, slowly rolling your stockings off each leg and kissing down your inner thighs as he did.

Bare before him you felt vulnerable and exposed in a way you never had been. But Arthur wasn’t like anyone else you’d been with.

Standing up he took you in with an awestruck smile, “how the hell did I get so lucky?”

Moving to unbutton his shirt you mused, “I could ask you the same question.”

Giving him the same affection and attention, your lips and hands explored with purpose — making sure he understood you loved his scars and the hair that dusted his chest and trailed down his abdomen.

You watched as he stepped out of his pants, eager to take his throbbing length in your hand. But before you could, Arthur gently layed you down, moving the pillow under your head as he did.

Running his hand through your hair he gazed sweetly, “feelin’ okay beautiful?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling him down. Settling beside you his hand dipped down to your heat, sliding along your wet folds before pushing a finger in.

A drawn out whine escaped from your lungs, finally getting the touch you needed.

Arthur let out an amused chuckle before bringing his mouth to your breast, twirling his tongue along the stiff peak and sucking it in his mouth. All while working your inner walls.

“Arthur,” you mewled, suddenly overwhelmed at all of the wonderful sensation.

“S’okay sweet girl,” sitting up slightly Arthur used his free hand to move one of yours to your mound. “Show me how ya touch yerself.”

You rubbed circles on your swollen nub, slick with the arousal from Arthur’s pleasuring. Even just the featherlight touch was enough to push you closer as you clenched around his large digits.

Arthur observed you with lust blown eyes, “that’s right sweetheart, let’s getcha there.” His breath was hot against your neck as he cooed in your ear, “be a good girl for me…”

That was all it took for your gut to tighten as Arthur made his way back down to your breast, eagerly sucking between praises while you came around his fingers.

He didn’t remove himself from you until the last of the quivers left your legs and your panting settled. “That’s my girl…”

Gathering your senses and coming back to reality, you gently urged Arthur onto his back and moved to get on top. Straddling his much wider lap was almost a strain.

But the feeling of the underside of his cock as your wet folds glided over the twitching hardness, quickly made any strain forgotten.

Arthur’s hands grasped your hips as you sunk onto him, taking him into your core with needy moans.

He let out a shaky exhale and a whisper of your name while stilling your hips from moving, “jus’…stay like this for a second.”

Reaching up to run his thumb over your lip he smiled warmly, “this has to be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.”

“Quite the smooth talker there Mr. Morgan.”

He laughed sweetly in response, “nah I ain’t smooth. Jus’ sayin’ what’s true.”

“Well either way,” you writhed slightly, “I think I can get you a little closer to heaven tonight…”

Placing your hands on Arthur’s sturdy chest you began bouncing on his cock, watching as he became a beautiful, whimpering mess beneath you.

There was a pride and thrill in making a tough, some would say brutish man like Arthur melt for you.

“C’mere princess,” Arthur pulled you down flush to him, your breasts pressed tightly to his upper chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

Kissing you with fervor he bucked up into your heat, his much bigger frame completely enveloping you.

“How’s this darlin’?”

“So—fuck, so good.”

“Love hearin’ you swear fer me…”

“Maybe,” you choked out between thrusts, “you should fuck me harder then.”

A primal groan expelled hot breath against your ear as Arthur picked up pace, his hand palming the swell of your ass as it shook with impact.

His substantial hand moved to cover the back of your head, lightly pulling your hair. “You take me so well sweetheart — God, so warm ’n tight.”

Every pump of Arthur’s cock hit a spot that had scarcely been stimulated before, slick dripping down your thighs as he did.

Arthur placed his fingers around your soaked opening, feeling as he pistoned in and out. “We’re makin’ a mess outta these expensive sheets.”

He tenderly placed his hand on your jaw to move your face towards his, “but you like that…dont’cha?”

His gravelly drawl was sex and sin.

Taking his thumb into your mouth you simply moaned a response as your pussy clenched around him.

“Yeah you do…good girl…”

Talking himself into a frenzy, taut muscle twitched and stiffened as he grew closer, legs kicking slightly with shallow breaths.

“Christ m’close,” Arthur choked out as his grip on you trembled.

Swiftly sitting up you hopped off and pumped his pulsing cock as he swore and gasped and gathered the sheets in his tight fists.

“That’s it handsome,” you stroked his flexing thigh while hot spend dripped down your knuckles and shot onto his tight stomach.

Arthur made a good call coming back to the manor; the comfort of the soft linens and silks certainly felt heavenly to your spent bodies.

The sight of him nude and blissful in your bed was something you’d carry with you as well, and you hoped he enjoyed the rare indulgence of comfort.

Propping himself on his elbow, Arthur eyed you with admiration. “Hell of a night.”

“Oh? That’s not just a regular night for you?” You joked with a light giggle.

“Robbin’ an idiot in an alleyway? Sometimes,” he shrugged playfully. “But this?” He leaned down to press his lips tightly to yours. “This ain’t.”

“Ya know darlin’, you ain’t gonna be able to show yer face around them lawmen again,” he realized with a laugh.

“To be honest, I think I’m growing weary of Saint Denis. Was actually hoping I might explore a little more of the world,” you paused to look at Arthur with a coy smile, “ya know?”

“Hmm, I might be able to help ya with that.”

Whether you really could leave and whether Arthur would trust your judgment in making that choice remained to be seen.

But he was happy in that moment and so were you. The two of you together was a paradox, and despite this — or maybe because of, it worked.

All that mattered was Arthur’s strong presence above you as he played with your necklace; the only thing left on your body.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #nsft #fluff #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Fossil Novembirb 6: Tropical Denmark

Septencoracias by @quetzalpali-art

We have a whole host of early Eocene ecosystems filled to the brim with birds - such a reversal from the Cretaceous and the Paleocene! - that we had to keep highlighting these ecosystems. So, next on our list is the Fur Formation of Denmark - another very early Eocene ecosystem, right after the PETM, that shows how Neoavians diversified so rapidly in the wake of the K-Pg extinction.

Associated with volcanoes, this ecosystem was periodically buried in ash, leading to the exceptional preservation of its fossils. It was a tropical forest, like most of the world at that time, near the coast; allowing the fossils to preserve a variety of marine as well as arboreal species. So, good news for us bird lovers!

In fact, there are so many different birds in this ecosystem, I can't possibly list or talk about them all. So, I'm just going to have to do my best to summarize!

Eocypselus by @saint-nevermore

This formation shows the oldest known members of many bird groups still found today, which is an important piece of the puzzle of Neoavian evolution. The earliest Rollers, Trogons, Swifts, and Ibises are all known from this ecosystem - as well as a wide variety of other birds that have older representatives, such as the Lithornithids.

In fact, for all the absence of Palaeognaths in the Cretaceous and earliest Paleocene, around the PETM the Lithornithids really took off - pun intended! They were found all over North America and Europe, which may have given them a prime position from which to radiate to the rest of the world... and evolve into the Palaeognaths we have today? Maybe. More work on that question is, of course, necessary.

Other interesting birds include Morsoravis, the early Parrot-Passerine relative with flexibly zygodactyl feet and kinetic skulls, allowing them to manipulate food and climb around on trees - common in its ecosystem. What's wild is this was very similar to the foot of living mousebirds - which are nowhere closely related to Parrots or Passerines - showcasing this as a case of convergent evolution in avian feet! That happens a lot, actually...

Rhynchaeites by Diego Ortega

Septencoracias was another fantastic bird of this ecosystem, being the oldest known roller. Previously, it was thought that rollers only appeared in the Miocene, so this pushes back their origin by tens of millions of years and also indicates that modern-type rollers appeared very early on in avian evolution. Furthermore, Septencoracias was found with fish in its gut, indicating that rollers at the time had a wide variety of food sources!

Eocypselus was another fascinating fossil of an early swift-hummingbird, ie, a relative of both groups but not more closely related to either. This showcases that these birds evolved their small size first, before specializing into the niches they hold today. It was black in color, and was probably an insectivore, like its living relatives!

The first ibises showed the long beak distinctive of the group, as seen in Rhynchaeites/Mopsitta, and had long legs for wading just like in living members. And relatives of modern rails, Messelornithids in the form of Pellornis, were wading along the shoreline right with them.

Eoglaucidium (a Sandcoleid), photograph by Ghedoghedo

In fact, one thing that's becoming clear about birds is that they tend to repeat the same ideas - locked in to certain developmental constraints, such as not re-evolving arms, they try out different ecologies that work well and continuously convergently evolve those adaptations over and over again. Wading, flexible feet, climbing and perching, the list goes on!

We'll see that continue throughout this series, but of course, unique adaptations will continue to come up in spades! These are birds we're talking about here.

Sources:

Mayr, G. M., A. C. Kitchener. 2023. A new fossil from the London Clay documents the convergent origin of a “mousebird-like” tarsometatarsus in an early Eocene near-passerine bird. Acta Palaeontologica Polonica 68 (1): 1-11.

Mayr, 2022. Paleogene Fossil Birds, 2nd Edition. Springer Cham.

Mayr, 2017. Avian Evolution: The Fossil Record of Birds and its Paleobiological Significance (TOPA Topics in Paleobiology). Wiley Blackwell.

#Fossil Novembirb #Novembirb #Dinovember #Dinosaurs #Birds

[elvisabutler]

need a hand

summary: lazy mornings are few and far between with you and your boyfriend and they're supposed to be about the two of you. this particular one has been interrupted enough by his work that you take matters into your own hands- by using his. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m. pairing: austin butler x plus sized female reader word count: 1266 warnings: somewhat public sex ( someone is on the other end of a phone call ). fingering. implied/fade to black p in v sex. waxing poetic about austin's hands. author's note: this is the double dip for day thirty one: hand kink with austin butler. so after i had decided to go the professor route with day 31 i got an ask from an anon asking for hand kink for kinktober, now it was after i had already started, about midway through october but i was like you know what anon, you've given me a prompt and shit why not. hope you're still around anon and you like this. as for everyone else, hope you enjoy too and lord have mercy, i really only have one more double dip and we're done with kinktober. in december. gold star all of us. also saints preserve me if there's any typos. pretty sure i caught them all but who even knows.

The thing you first noticed about Austin, beyond his blue eyes that you could drown in and his height and how he looked like every lanky tall boy you had ever fallen for in your life, was his hands. It makes sense that he has large hands because he's a rather large person, a rather tall person. So you should be used to it by now except you're not- you're pretty sure you're never going to get over how his hand actually spans a good portion of your entire ass cheek and each hand can hold a breast with an ease that not many men- or women- in your life had managed. You're pretty sure you're never going to get over how his hand could grab under your chin and force you to look up at him even when you're being bashful under his compliments of how you look like a goddess in your jumpsuit or in your dress or on one particularly memorable occasion, your pjs-a shirt that was far too oversized for him but he wore anyway just to get you to be able to say that you stole his shirt for your pjs.

The point is Austin's hands are a thing you mildly fixate on sometimes and in particular when he has rings on his fingers it makes it worse. You don't act instead choosing to spend your time saving the world one case at a time- or so you tell yourself- practicing law. It takes your mind off of the long stretches of time you don't have your boyfriend with you and- well you like to think even with him as your boyfriend and perhaps your future husband no one will mind when you go into politics with him by your side. Changing the world can only happen so much when you're on the outside, sometimes you have to get in the midst of things. He's finally home for a fair chunk of time despite him gearing up to fully hit the award season press junket. Bikeriders has wrapped and you for once have an entirely free weekend. He still has to do a virtual interview or two but it's fine.

At least you thought it was until one interview dragged into another and suddenly Austin is answering the phone yet again and you find yourself watching him. It's supposed to be a lazy morning so you're wearing the oversized shirt and nothing on underneath it as far as underwear goes. You watch as his hands gesticulate with the occasional glint of a ring you gave him on his left ring finger. God, his hands shouldn't do as much for you as they do and yet you find your legs falling open just a smidge as he continues to talk. Lazy mornings are meant for you and him to reconnect both emotionally and physically. Emotionally you were fine but physically in this moment you found that you were lacking, you could just start to touch yourself with your own hand but that felt so silly considering you were right next to your boyfriend who conveniently has one of his hands near your thigh. Your eyes focus on his face as you subtly grab his hand and move it up your thigh until you can feel his fingers start to press ever so gently against your cunt. He stutters for a moment before looking at you and down at his hand in confusion.

"Keep going." You mouth before you fully have his fingers inside of you. A sigh leaves your mouth at the sensation and you can see Austin biting his lip as he listens to whatever question the interviewer hsas on the other end of the line. You're wetter than you have any right to be with no real preparation but you'd like to blame that on being as attracted as you are to Austin that even the simple act of being near him like you are today that has you aroused. It's hard to figure out how to move Austin's hand in the way you would normally want it to be moving when he's doing it but you make it work. He gets the clue that you need some help and looks questioningly at you as if to ask if he can move his fingers only to have you nod.

His fingers curl and shift, brushing against your g-spot as you feel his thumb press against your clit, forcing a hiss out of you. He continues to talk to the interviewer as if nothing is happening though you can see his cock pressing against his boxers, a small wet spot forming on the fabric the longer the interview goes on and the longer his hand moves within you. Normally when Austin fingers you it's a bit of a quick affair, a means to an ends as far as foreplay goes but this- no this is you and him trying to get you off while he's preoccupied. You bite your lips trying to swallow your groans and moans as your toes curl. Austin's eyes narrow just a hair at one particularly loud noise that escapes your lips that has him apologizing to the person on the other end.

"Quiet." He mouths before his fingers continue their onslaught in your cunt. He puts the phone against his shoulder and leans his head onto it to keep it in place before he has the genius thought to put his fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. It has the opposite effect though, as you groan around his fingers, your tongue swirling around the digits in a way that's reminiscent of how you suck his cock. You swear you hear the interviewer- or maybe it's Austin- apologize but your heartbeat is too busy rushing through your ears for you to register it fully. Instead, your body focuses on the feel of his calloused fingers against your clit, as he had abandoned just using his thumb to do it. The rubbing motion would be enough- feels like it's going to be enough before he practically yanks his fingers out of your mouth and grabs one of your breasts and just pinches the nipple at the same time as he rubs just so against your clit. Your teeth dig into your lower lip so hard you swear it's about to bleed with the force as you cum, your orgasm cascading over you as you shiver just a bit from the sheer force of it. At some point your eyes had shut and you open them to see Austin's chest rising and falling quicker than it had been. You see his cock peeking out from his boxers just a hair and you see his hands holding the phone.

"I hope to talk to you again soon as well! Call me later if you had any follow ups, I know that isn't protocol but you seem nice. Bye and thank you!" He finishes off the conversation with a flourish of the hand that had previously been on your breast before he looks at you, tossing the phone on his nightstand. The look he has reminds you of a predator seeking his prey, you should be scared but you're not, instead choosing to smirk.

"Ready for more, Mr. Butler?" You ask, moving to pull off your shirt before he stops you and pulls you closer to him allowing himself to squeeze your hip as his fingers dig into the ample flesh.

His lips catch yours in a bruising kiss before he answers. "My hands were just getting started, babe."

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler smut #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader smut #austin butler x plus size reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #ally's kinktober 2022 #kinktober 2022 #ally writes

[this-ag-doll-is-a-butch]

Clara Montoya: Autistic???

I've been getting back into AG for almost a year now. Josefina has always, always been my fave, since we were both nine years old.

I've been thinking about how I want her to have a counterpart in her time and location to actually interact with in period-appropriate ways. She never received a Best Friend doll, though :(

But really, her whole story is centered around her family anyway, and I've seen people talk about how 2005 GOTY Marisol Luna has been used to create Clara dolls. And yep, the resemblance is real.

So I have plans to get a Marisol and make her Clara. Although they may take a some months to come to fruition, considering all my other doll and fandom and plushie collection goals and IRL expenses 😔

But it's free to think about Clara's character and plan for what I want her collection to encompas.

The thing that strikes me most, looking at her now with the adult knowledge of being autistic myself- she REALLY seems like a character that one can headcanon as autistic with ease.

She's logical and practical and literal to a fault. She hates change and getting dirty and wants to keep everything organized. Sewing and embroidery are her special interests! She bonds with Tía Dolores through those interests! She clashes hard with Francisca, who just does not want to make the effort to understand her.

She has strong attachment to objects, to the extent that it becomes a huge part of the plot in "Josefina's Surprise." (The altar cloth, Niña.)

Niña is her comfort object, for fuck's sake!!!!! She manages to relinquish primary custody of Niña to Josefina, but ONLY after Tía Dolores managed to give her a new comfort object (Mamá's silver thimble.)

I mean, I think I need to closely reread all Josefina's series and acquire all short stories and the mysteries. What else is going on with dear Clara and her autism? Does she have sensory issues???

It goes without saying that Clara was never deliberately written as autistic, and of course in 1824 New Mexico, a word didn't exist for autism. But we autistics have always existed.

In terms of a potential collection- obviously Josefina's nightgown straight-up seems to be Clara's camisa and IDK how to feel about that. How can Josefina not have her nightgown??? 😭

One potential solution I've been thinking about is a similar nightgown for her but with a different neck ribbon. I can't sew, but it seems Etsy seller Magnoliawillows makes a similar nightgown with a blue ribbon which could be Josefina's new nightgown.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1325115163/josefina-montoya-style-night-shift

Also, I know her BeForever nightgown exists too. But I'm not as emotionally bonded to it, since it came after "my time" lmao. Maybe it would be nice if Clara and Josefina had summer and winter nightgowns 🤔

And I could get Josefina's BeForever bed for Clara! That's another reason why I want a Clara- to have a way to use more of Josefina's collection as I acquire it, especially the BeForever items.

And if AG could just get off their asses and GIVE JOSEFINA LITERALLY ANY COLLECTION AT ALL AGAIN, it would be great to buy whatever is (re-)released new and use it mostly for Clara, because that way I could have the beloved Pleasant Company versions of my memory yet also support Josefina's collection today.

Meet Accessories/Outfit ideas- Josefina's PC red-ribbon nightgown as camisa, different rebozo, moccasins, extra pair of Josefina bloomers, indigo skirt (although it would be interesting to try and see if someone sells/would make a skirt closer to book illustrations... however, 1820s New Mexican sisters, even in a well-to-do family like Josefina's, definitely shared clothes. So it would make sense from that perspective).

She'd need a doll-size pair of scissors, which Tía Dolores gave her, of course. And I'd want her to have some kind of necklace, because all AG historicals did/do. I'd need to know more about necklaces from then, though... perhaps some kind of mílagro, or Saint Clara symbol/medal? I'd want her to have a little sewing & embroidery kit to hang on her belt, too.

One thing that would take a lot more work, yet would make an amazing story, would be to somehow find another little doll's-doll like Niña. I have a whole story idea where some kind of secret room somehow gets found (maybe at Abuelito and Abuelita's house in Santa Fe) and a long-forgotten doll from Mamá and Tía Dolores' childhood gets given to Clara 🥺

Another idea would be to assemble stuff to create a little shrine for Clara and Josefina to pray at (yes I got the idea from the Mini World image). Especially because it would have Mamá's colcha-embroidered altar cloth! And just in general, part of why I connected with Josefina so much growing up was that her family is Catholic, just like mine.

These days, obviously, I'm a grown up monbinary gay ex-TradCath (similar to ExVangelical) with religious trauma, but maybe making a doll Catholic shrine would be a way to deal with that in a more healthy manner...

Anyway I would love to talk about Clara and Josefina!!!! Josefina-lovers please interact!!!!

#josefina montoya #clara montoya #american girl #agblr #autistic headcanon #best friend dolls #doll ideas #montoya family #religion cw #religious trauma mention

[renxmaiden]

Many reasons why I love Ren x Jeanne

I am a huge huge HUGE sucker for the ship trope being the "Brooding boy x Gentle girl" trope. Ships that has this trope instantly lands the OTP spot for me. Ren is a brooding boy, Jeanne is a gentle girl.

They also fall under the ship trope "Opposites attract" as they have personalities that are opposite of each other

Even if Jeanne never knew anything about Ren, I loved that she's willing to save a stranger's life. She even saved and revived him 2 times

Appearance wises, they look good together as a couple; Younger RenMei is cute. Blank period and Adult RenMei on the other hand, they look cute, beautiful and hot together as a couple.

They have chemistry (See Tao Men)

It's fascinating and interesting to me that they both share similar backgrounds with one another and where they are coming from is tragic. They both were raised and groomed into becoming child murderers. Despite that they both had a very rough start from the beginning, later throughout the series, they later changed and fully regret their actions for the horrific crimes they've committed in the past and later atoned for their sins in the series. After the Shaman Fight ended where everyone went on their separate ways to prove Hao was wrong about humanity, Ren and Jeanne strived to make the world a better place in their own ways, Ren aiming to be a CEO leader of his own company (Leidi) and Jeanne running a charity organization (X-Charity). They both have the same goals in the blank period era and that is world peace (And it's one of the reasons on why I think they've got together because they actually have a lot of things in common with each other, which also made me think at some point they've bonded over those too in the blank period era)

They have a very cute height difference when they are older; Ren is incredibly very tall then Jeanne. It's also been stated in a SK character interview that Ren would like a girl that isn't very annoying and if she was smaller then him. Jeanne matches this description perfectly well

Their size difference is cute

I adore fictional age gap ships and RenMei happens to fall into this category. I know age gap shipping may not be everyone's cup of tea but to me, it's my own favorite cup of tea and I am not ashamed of loving fictional age gap ships.

The fact that Ren was the first person to confess his feelings to Jeanne in that one picture from the remix track where they were at Mont Saint Michel. Also the title of this "video" was "[Love Confession] How Ren and Maiden's romance started"

The fact that Ren went out his way to introduce Jeanne to his family that he is getting married to her.

The fact that they had premarital sex

How soft and loving Ren has became, both as a husband and father all because of Jeanne who has changed him in the Blank Period era.

The way they make eye contact with each other

How communicative they are with each other as seen in their older versions

The fact that after losing his wife, Ren was so devastated to the point he even deep down he wants to commit suicide just so he can be by Jeanne's side. Jeanne meant SO much to him

How Ren is very touchy around Jeanne and expresses his love around Jeanne by touching her affectionately (Her hands, shoulders and hips)

How they would call each other by their names (Ren calls Jeanne "Jannu" and Jeanne calls Ren "Ren". Basically calling by their first names lol)

How they've raised their son well; Men was taught to never go with strangers. Ren and Jeanne also do not want their son to fall into the same footsteps as they were when they were kids and to prevent Men from doing so, they all got together one day to make a promise to "never kill anyone".

Ren keeps family photos in frames in his office. Ren and Jeanne have a lot of photos together, even albums (their wedding album) and family photos as this was seen in their house as well.

How Ren and Jeanne's hair length swapped; In the beginning of the series, Ren starts off with having short hair, Jeanne having long hair. In their Adult versions, Ren now has longer hair, Jeanne on the other hand has short hair.

How Jeanne would always make desserts for the family and Ren and Men enjoys them.

They are a POC couple, Ren is Chinese while Jeanne is France

Nearly 15 years later, Ren and Jeanne's love story STILL remains to be a mystery and I love to fantasize and theorize/headcanon on the many ways on how they got together. It's incredibly super fun to think about it!

#txt #txt post #renmei #ren x jeanne #if i remembered any more reasons i'll update this post lol #i also meant to post this during renmei positivity week just to fangirl and hype up the event more but i got too busy drawing #so now here it is im posting it