#The Fuckin' Brawl For All

[headlamprey]

Was scheming on how to start/get into a bar fight since i never been in one and my friend was like. YOU DUMPED YOUR DRINK ON A GIRLS HEAD THEN PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE. WE HAD TO DRAG YOU AWAY. YOU THREW A FOOD PLATTER AT A WALL. well that shit wasn't A BAR FIGHT OK it doesn't count at all

#listen she fuckin deserved it #but it isnt a FIGHT if all that happened ks my friends dragged me away #i want like movie scene fight where someone hits someone else by accident during a fight and its an entire brawl

[deputy-buck]

I'm goin to say it once and only once.

If your job is to be a people person, (i.e. interviewer, journalist, commentator, analyst ect.) the Bare Minimum you should be doin is pronouncing names correctly. Your job is to know people; talk to them, talk about them- often times both! Puttin in that miniscule amount of effort to say someone's name correctly should be the standard.

#this is specifically about Brett Okamoto in his most recent interview w/ Islam #right when he introduces Islam and fucks up his last name you can see Islam's face fall a little #bc he has to deal with this all the fuckin time from well-known interviewers like that fucknut #this isnt abt the general fans. but the people whose JOB it is to know people. #buck brawls

[inanotherworldarling]

You thirst for Ansem, but not Old Nort? Isn’t Ansem just old nort in a young persons body?

Yeah. See one of them is 7 foot tall and classically handsome with flowing silver locks in a heaving neckline. The other is ol veiny head.

#idk i think i was predestined to like Ansem bc as soon as he spoke in kh I somehow knew he was voiced by Billy Zane #Like i messaged ny homie like 'is this dude billy zane from titanic???' and my homie was like what are you on about #but i think he googled for me bc i was brawling ansem bc <3 kh1 <3 I also remember homie bein like GET THE OBLIVION KEY and ive gone #Way off topic i just remember that bc it was funny to me like ive just thought riku and seen the princesses captured #and my brains like Omg Evil Guy From Titanic?????? like #for Context I have watched the dude in nothing else i know of and i saw titanic once #when i was 13 and i was home alone at night and i was sittin on the floor in a blanket CRYING and then my brother and his drunk friends #came home and were like 👁👁 why you in a blanket on the floor crying? and i was like GET OUTTA HERE jacks fuckin DEAD #Anyone so all these giant tags to say the fact i immediately clocked his voice means ibwas paying attention to the dude #And why? becuase Ansem is PRETTY #Xeha has a nice voice too tho rip mr Nimoy i loved you in fringe #where you were also an evil scientist who wanted to destroy the universes #suffice to say i called young Xehanort a hot twink to my homie when he pulled up in like... idk DDD #its just lil bald hunched veiny head #Also im not bald-ist I love a bald dude so 😤 #Ask

[hexados-on-a-string]

im too lazy to watch through the entirety of new vestroia but is there any scenes of gus and helios or vulcan and helios interacting? bc id like to think that they're friends :)

#u know that gus had to hear like a billion hours long rants when spectra got ahold of drago #helios: what can drago do that i cant #vulcan: not need mechanical enhancements to be strong #helios: next time spectra and gus brawl im going to obliterate you #i think helios and vulcan argue but they're actually pretty good friends in the end. idk tho. i just like nice things #also helios may be an awful little bastard of a lizard but i would like him to have more friends #all he has is spectra and his rivalry w drago #again. get this bastard lizard some friends. he might chill out a little. or not. probably not. helios is funny to me tho. #did u guys know that helios and lync have the same va? the more u know. #fun fact i have a REALLY fuckin long ramble abt spectra and gus' redemption arcs in my drafts #id upload it but its far too long and idk how to use the read more thing on mobile #i can be convinced to upload it if anyone asks tho wink wink nudge nudge #i do have favourite characters how can u tell #anyways im done now bye byeeeeeee

[karmaphone]

losing it 🫠

#my good fucking dude you don't even pay for this apartment anymore why the fuck are you doing things like #locking my dog in here with me without asking because 'oh no a neighbors phone died' #and then fucking opening the door on me in my underwear when he left #like bruh none of that is o fucking kay #you couldn't have? stood OUTSIDE the apartment with him while he used your phone? #you don't have the goddamn right to invite someone in here like that when you have people and animals living here illegally #what the absolute fuck is wrong with you #I can't put angry away because angry's the one who woke up and I don't want him doing something we regret #my head hurts so fucking bad AND NOT JUST FROM MY DOG SCREAMING :))))))))) #fuckin all-out brawl in here not to go scream at that idiot of a woman

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Hiding the rest of this HUGE comic behind a readmore for ur sanity

Hes got the keenest eye for these things!

Now that this is hiding behind a readmore i can justify writing an essay in here. Nothing big tho i am just very chatty :)!

Postgame where Peppino still gets visits every now and again from the bosses of the tower. I already drew one for the noise (lmao) but i wanted to draw each of the main four interacting with him in some way.

Pepperman is a refined and well renowned artist. His art is highly sought after and his advice is not taken lightly. He has many MANY fortunes to pull from to make his visions a reality and to influence anyone to do anything. Except for Peppino.

From the very first fight, Pepperman is immediately, overwhelmingly obsessed with this stout little brawler. He is much much more than what meets the eyes. He is initially extremely offput and annoyed that a human so boldly decided to waltz into his domain, and he expects to be able to steamroll and bully this…beast…out of his place of work. He is refined when he wants to be, but he is quick to use his brute strength to get what he wants if only bc he knows he can do it

And so when he decides to fully charge and thrash this little trembling human, expecting him to skitter away the second he gets struck, he is completely unprepared for when he gets launched to the other end of this room. The human looks so incredibly PISSED, like a bull seeing red, and suddenly this little altercation suddenly became a real actual ‘knock your teeth out’ brawl. This human is only like half his height, but his punches and bashes fucking knock the wind out of him.

And like ! To add insult to injury!!! After he wins the fight! He visibly deflates, the adrenaline seemingly wearing off. Hes just this trembling fuckin whelp again !!! Whimpering as he fucking runs back out through the portal to do god knows what. And Pepperman could not be any more fucking intrigued. Like this no name came in, whooped his fuckin ass, and went about his day. Its unreal

While Peppino is running around climbing the tower, Pepperman is in his room losing his mind. Hes obsessed. No one has challenged him in this way. No one has fought him and WON. He is ALWAYS able to bully people into submission either through brute force or with money, and he got his ass handed to him !! He needs to know more. Its quite literally consuming him.

Cut to the final fight, set up for a rematch; and he knows he is going to get steamrolled again but it is SO exhilarating to get another chance to see this humans form up close again. This time he can try to commit everything to memory. Its all such a blur though, and in a quarter of the time it took to end their first fight, its over. He gets to watch the human fight the gunslinger with his bare hands, no gun necessary, and he doesnt even bat an eye at what looks to be a clone of himself. He is a force of nature tearing through every single defense, and when Pepperman watches the actual final fight with the bizarre little pizza man, its like hes caught in a movie. The rain, the storm, the atmosphere. He wishes he could burn the entire scene into his mind.

So when everything returns to normal, he takes the time to travel for days to come and find this little human named Peppino. The memory is still strong and vivid but eventually, details will start to slip his mind. He needs to find this human, convince him to sit and do some still life sessions with him to help cement the humans appearance in his head. He hasnt had to resort to…asking for permission for anything in a loooong time…he bullies people into doing what he wants but Peppino is not your average person, and if he wants something from this man, he’ll have to meet him at his level.

He...can make an exception for Peppino...he supposes.

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #peppino #pepperman #i love love love how this little comic turned out #esp with how peppino came out in so many panels #esp the one w pepperman holding peppino close: that one is the best i think #anyway #yeah #heehee #this is not intended to be shippy but do as u please #pepperman is just an artist that appreciates beautiful BEAUTIFUL forms #and people who defy him #and he has No filter #peppino is like oh my god #hes eccentric…the worst kind of person…. #but like #no one has tried to fight him since the tower collapsed #and everyone seems peaceful enough now #so if this weirdo thinks hes ‘beautiful’ and ‘exquisite’ and ONLY wants to spend some time to draw him #well thats better than fighting again; hell take it #also #heehee yes; peppino is using a walkman #hes been holding onto that shit for decades its his ol reliable

[evilminji]

*evil grin of The Ponderings™*

You know who DEFINITELY would have Unfinished Business?

Heroes. Professional "If I could just MOVE, just fight a BIT LONGER, save ONE MORE PERSON" Heroes. It's the ultimate and unending Unfinished Business. To protect people. Not just their friends, their co-workers, but the innocent people around them.

That kid, stuck crying in the rubble.

That business man, screaming in pain, caught in the cross fire.

The People NEED them. They SWORE. Their very SOULS burn with the NEED to help. But... the flesh gave out. Injuries. Age. Quirk overuse. They knew... they KNEW, this was not a safe line of work... but... but! Please! Just one more person! Why can't they just make their breaking, dying, bodies MOVE!

Of course they refuse to move on.

They are needed HERE.

Yet? Their hands pass through. Their voices do not reach. A hell of their own, unknown, making. They can't let go, but they can't HELP either. There isn't enough Ectoplasm here. The walls of their reality overly patched up, since that unfortunate leak a few centuries back.

After all, the Zone had dumped near lethal quantities of unfiltered Ecto into the atmosphere. They're STILL dealing with the mutations and fall out, aren't they? At least, they are according to the Zone. (Wtf is a "Quirk"?) And, yeah, someone should PROBABLY do an assessment on the ecological recovery of the Reality. But like?

Do you have any idea how few people have an Obsession for stuff like that? Wait your turn! The list is long and you're not fuckin special, okay? The agents are BUSY.

Now, you might wonder? Wait. If they aren't moving on. Are DEFINITELY Ghosts. Starving as they are. Refusing to die as they may be. Wouldn't... Wouldn't that leave the whole ass area around their Reality an ecological dead zone? If it got over patched and no Ghosts LEFT, thus noticed, and started to try and work on it from the outside? Assuming the COULD?

Yeah. Yeah it would be!

It's called the "New Wastes"!

There used to be some cool Lairs around there. But there was a turf dispute. Someone DID something. Punched a HOLE. And everyone re-died. It was fixed but never quite re-healed. Portals... don't show up there? For some reason? Meh. Wanna brawl?

No. Danny's curious. He wants ANSWERS.

It's his fatal flaw.

Well... that and his inability to keep his mouth shut. But he likes to think he's funny. So... off he goes! And MAN! Does it feel funky out there! Weird textures. Mmmm, Don't Like THAT ™. It's probably a King thing? The Zone here... FEELS wrong.

Not... the way it's SUPPOSED to be shaped, if that makes sense?

And? It feels... if you sorta squint? Like... a LOT of people AREN'T where they should be. But aren't gonna leave until they're READY. Ooof. Great. Someone messed up again. Why does he KEEP FINDING bits and pockets that need straightening out? Unruffling? It's like he has to keep smooth out this giant peice of fabric with all these stains on it. Clean the messes on it.

He feels more like a maid then a King.

Maybe he is?

Pretty sure he's more of a nanny, since the Zone is more of a whiny yet excitable toddler then anything else. Alright, let him in. And fix... whatever THAT is.

So he steps into the Reality and? Huh. Japan. Neat. He always meant to go, never got around to it. Why is that man an otter?

.......oooohohooo, this place was HELLA fucked up by Ectoplasm, wasn't it? This is multi generational exposure. It's in the air. The water, ground, buildings. But stale to the point of stagnation. That can't be healthy. At least a few people he sees have developed ecto-resistance, thank the Ancients.

Danny discovers there are? "Superheroes"? Or just... heroes, apparently. They sell shampoo lines and athletic gear. Villians are petty criminals and psychopaths. All lumped together. He gets fuckin CHASED by the COPS and half the cities spandex patrol, called a "villian" (you know, like the purse snatchers and the DUDE WHO TRIED TO OPEN FIRE ON A CROWD) for flying around trying to assess the situation. Not speaking Japanese fast enough.

Soooorry! He TRIED to answer your confusing barked demands! This isn't his native language! He's translating through Ghost Speech! He knows it sounds unsettling to the living! It's the best he's GOT, man! (Asshole)

He escapes, obviously, because he's not 14 anymore. And honestly? He could top 200mph or so AT 14. He's only gotten faster. Intangible flight means no wind drag, motherfuckers~! OR need to dodge buildings! HA. Try to follow him through THE GROUND!

A few Blob sucked (to remove the ectoplasm) bits of treasure later? And he leaves a pawn shop with local currency. Thank YOU shady pawn shop! Ask him no questions, he'll tell you not lies. Enjoy Pariah's gold.

He does tourist things. Buy foods he's never tried, wanders around. Sees what's needed. Noticed a lot of people struggle with some aspect of the ecto-mutations brought on by the extreme Limnality. Need accessibility aids.

.....well, he IS a Fenton. His parents would disown him on the SPOT if he left with out at least TRYING to help. So he tracks down one the local ghosts. He'll need a guide or two.

He? VASTLY underestimates how desperate a sea of Obsession Starved Hero and Vigilante Ghosts will act, the INSTANT, they realize not only someone can see them... but it's? Their "Boss"? They aren't sure HOW they know that. But they DO. It's THE Boss. Here to help them! Asking for HELP ™ from THEM!

Yes

YES THEY CAN DO THAT

He gets swarmed. Hundreds of ghosts fighting over each other. Shouting. Turning on each other like rabid animals. All worn down and ragged by their Obssesion starvation. He's forced to shout over them.

And? Holy shit, these are only the ones from THIS CITY, too.

Thank Zone, again, he's no longer 14. That he has friends who are Rulers ™ that taught him HOW to Rule. To delegate. Pretend he TOTALLY knows what he's doing. That every action is on purpose.

It takes less then two hours, with all the experienced Unground Heros help, to make himself a Real Boy and buy a building. Put himself into the correct databases. He officially has licenses for things he's never studied. Is a tax paying citizen. Even belongs to several local clubs.

Over the next few days? He sets up his new... oi! Quickdraw! What're they called again? Right. "Lifestyle Support Company" which? Is a dumb name. But, Fenton Works is Fenton Works. Somehow he always kinda knew he'd be inherenting. It's in a cruddy part of town and the prices are cheap as he can safely get um.

He already had two customers, even though half the building isn't even fully set up. Which? I mean... he gets it. Poor guy. Knives for hands. Sharp ones too. The other guy's Obsession made him emotionally react to colors and like three different ones were ruining his life. So, hand Prosthetics controllable by knives and color filtering wrap around glasses.

Took him a lunch break or two.

Changed THEIR lives.

Suddenly his shop is packed. Schedule screaming for relief. And the ghosts? Getting more tangible by the day. See, his work shop? Ecto proofed. Let's him relax. But it ALSO let's him radiate fresh, clean, Ecto out into the air. And as King? With a direct line to The Zone? He puts out a lot.

There start to become Sightings.

People who SWEAR they saw long dead Heros out of the corner of their eyes. Dead vigilantes. That was who through that bottle. Who tripped that thug at just the right moment. Who unlocked the door. The SWEAR. They aren't crazy!

And... at first? Brushed off. Stress does a lot of crazy thing to a person, ma'am. But? How do you brush off, making eye contact with your dead best friend? Your old mentor on the other roof? That vigilante, who you WATCHED bleed out? Can you brush them off... when a vigilante from the dawn of quirks, punches some two bit villian on live television? Calls the Heros on the scene gloryhounds? Goverment dogs?

Runs from the cops and vanishes into thin air?

When this shit KEEPS HAPPENING?

Is spreading?

Are... are you supposed to arrest them for illegal vigilantism? How? They're THE proto-Heros! You don't want your name tied to that! The HPSC is furious. The goverment is uneasy. There are like... 6 dudes and a lady, openly stalking some kid in UA. Trying to mentor him. He looks moments away from a nervous breakdown.

Us too, kid. Us too.

All? While Danny? Is just sitting in his lil shop. Tinkering. Not HIS problem. Gotta let the ghosts here get it out of their system. Get their Obsession's full. Then it's all aboard the Zone Train. He's just here to make sure no one does anything "Too Crazy".

What's HIS definition of "too crazy"?

Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy~☆

@hdgnj @lolottes @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn

#dp x bnha #minji's writing #just here for moral support au #ghostly Heroics au

[katiapostsss]

✧˚ · . "I THOUGHT YOU KNEW!" — . .

˗ˏˋ 📄 ´ˎ˗

teaser:

"just because you

kiss someone, doesn't mean you're

dating!"

ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ : sam monroe x gn!reader

warnings! :

blood ,, a fight ,, yelling ,, swearing.

SUMMARY: sam monroe has never been good at communication. as his best friend, you know that. but, in the aftermath of a fight, erupted in your name, you realize just how bad it truly is.

〰️

this fic was inspired by @agirlsguidetolove !!

the bell was not what dismissed your english class now, but voices erupting, shoes scuffing, and one word. fight. over and over, screamed, again and again.

the whole of the room went silent, perking and straining their ears. "a fight?"

glances were exchanged, a whisper, and then, before ms. madden could protest, the sound of chairs being pushed back and running steps, though, she protested as everyone left, arms outstretched, trying to stop the madness. "now— class, sit down! this is a problem to be dealt with by the teachers!" of course, no one listened.

"oooo, there's a fight!" someone whooped as they wooshed out the door and into the corridor.

you yourself straightened, locking eyes with a hallway acquaintance and abandoning the idea of staying inside all together. you got up, slipping out after your classmates and half-jogging down to the scene. "he's getting his ass beat!" came a cry, then, "damn, clifford! that's all you got?"

a clump of people, surrounding whatever gruesome brawl inside, which was what you just assumed was said fight, appeared around the bend. you craned your neck as you came closer in proximity, trying to see over heads and out-stretched phones, but failing quite miserably. when you stood at the perimeter of the hubbub, you gave up looking over the crowd and instead looked in, for light glinting off piercings and jet-black hair, fiery, blue eyes dimmed by the messy makeup bordering them. and found nothing. sam monroe, your best friend since 1st year, had third lunch after you, so this would be his break period. he had to be somewhere...

it was when you heard his voice that you realized exactly where he was. "wanna fuckin' talk now, pussy?!" and it was unmistakable, that voice. suddenly, the fight became all too interesting, and you began pushing against the sea of students and struggling teachers to get to the middle of it. your heart was in your stomach. he had done it, hadn't he?

"fuck," you uttered, getting shoved and trampled all the way there. and surely, when you seized the opportunity and made it to the center, there sam was, a burst lip, blood dribbling from his nose. he was straddling charlie clifford, some kid in your spanish class, punching the poor guy straight into the ground over and over again. in horror, your eyes widened, a hand covering your mouth, before you had the good sense to enter in and grab his shoulder, pulling him off. "get the fuck off him! sam! what the fuck is wrong with you! oh my fucking—"

sam had never done anything like this before. it was so strange, interfering a fight that he was in. he was known for being quiet—at least on the outside—void of emotion. this was completely unorthodox. it took three pulls until he gave in and let you drag him up, wiping the blood from his nose with his forearm and staring menacingly at the boy on the ground, who was writhing and crying in pain, his face mangled to the point of being unrecognizable. a few disprovals from the crowd.

"someone's girlfriend is here to save monroe!" someone yelled. "save?!" in return.

"bitch," sam snarled, spitting blood onto the ground by charlie's shoes. you watched the kid in shock, who sobbed and sobbed, barely registering the teacher that came in and bent down next to him, prodding at his face, or how he straightened and looked to the crowd.

"everyone! back to your classes!" he yelled, but the students were already departing, understanding the fun was over. the few that stayed grumbled with their friends.

"and you!" the teacher turned to sam. "principal's, now!" the words were twisted together. feeling horrible, you didn't bother looking over at your best friend, who was staring at you, hesitating to leave, instead, bending beside charlie and helping him sit up.

"are you okay?" you uttered, trying to wipe off some of the blood on his face. he moaned in pain in response. looking up at the teacher, who was speaking into a walky talky, you offered to help. "i can bring him to the nurse's?"

"yes, please do." he nodded, the device beeping in his hand.

you spent the rest of the day by clifford's side, apologizing hastily on your best friend's behalf.

---

"what the fuck was that, sam?" there was no word to describe how you felt in that moment. angry? no. not angry, it seemed too harsh a feeling, while, in contrast, confused seemed too light. both, maybe, for what he had done to clifford.

sam laid atop his blankets, one foot dangling off his bed and the other propped up into a bent position. he, to your knowledge, and to the knowledge and gossip of others, had been given a two-day suspension, effective immediately, and went home, busted lip, bruised cheek and all. you threw the frozen pack of peas you spent a good three minutes looking for—the best you could do—at his chest and stared incredulously at him, who, after a moment, took the bag and put it to his cheek.

"what, never seen a fight before?" he grumbled in annoyance, hauling himself up and dangling both feet off the bed. you pursed your lips, entering his room and stopping before him.

"not with you in it." which was completely true. you sharply lifted his chin up to face you, making him drop the peas into his lap. a scowl painted your lips in response to his injuries. "and here i was, thinking you were more mature in that field." the first aid kit plopped onto his bed and from it, you took some bandages, and rubbing alcohol.

"and here i was, thinking you always let me explain before you accused me of shit."

"accused?" you spit, "i'm pretty sure everyone saw that fight, sam. how is stating facts accusing?" you straightened and opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol, emptying some of the liquid onto a cotton pad.

"you don't even know why we fought," he said, closing his eyes and leaning back until his head hit the wall. you rolled your eyes.

"stop that." he didn't move. tutting, you climbed over him until you straddled his hips, giving you access to his face. you didn't bother warning him of any pain before you hastily cleansed the dried blood from his cracked lip and nose, and the only sign that he actually was in pain, was the slight furrow of his brow. he opened his eyes and watched your face as you worked. "you're right. i don't know why you did it, but i frankly, don't care. clifford did not deserve what you gave him. you should've just kept quiet."

his face twisted in anger, and he turned his head to the side to keep you from reach, slightly pushing you off of him. "right. kept quiet. as if you fucking know what he even said." you scowled. "i mean— why are you even taking his side?! i thought we both, mutually hated him!" sam, all of a sudden, looked like he could punch clifford into the ground all over again. "like— we used to talk shit about him together. switching up now is crazy."

you set the pad and liquid aside, and came to stand, keeping by the bed. "sure, i hate him, but not enough to wish that shit you put him through upon him! and for the record, this is completely normal of me, after what you did. the only one who's switching up here is you!"

"well i'm sorry i have real, human emotions." he glared daggers at your face.

"real, human emotions you should've kept to yourself!"

sam laughed as if unbelieving of your words, looking off to the side like some sort of audience would agree with him on this. "well what the hell was i supposed to do, y/n?! just sit there and listen to him talk shit about you without batting an eye?!"

"oh so that's why," you laughed bitterly. "how mature, sam. since when have you ever cared who talks shit about me, anyways! you certainly never cared before."

he sat up, shaking his head and pushing off the mattress, suddenly pacing. you turned toward him, watching him go.

"since when have i cared," he repeated to himself with a scoff, brows furrowed. "i've always cared, y/n!"

"never enough to beat the poor guy so—"

"stop it with that name. that poor guy deserved what he fucking got."

"no! he didn't, sam! how insensitive can you be?!" your arms extended at your sides, your face falling deeper into that of disbelief. "i mean— it's just shit-talking! why does that even fucking matter, especially coming from clifford—"

"oh, i don't know," he said sarcastically, pausing and whirling on you. "maybe because it was you he was shit-talking! i mean, what do you expect me to do in that situation? agree with him?! tell him i totally think my girlfriend is a bitchy slut too?!"

your heart stopped. the whole world stopped.

you immediately went quiet, eyes going wider than they were before, face freezing in confusion, surprise, a mix. sam seemed to sense the shift, his body relaxing from its tensed state slightly, though his cold eyes did not thaw one bit. "what."

you tried searching for words, but came up with none, questioning if you had just imagined the word that came out of his mouth, if it was just a trick of the following and previous syllables. "gir— girlfriend? i— what? since— since when did we start.. dating?" you stuttered out, breath labored and heart thudding. you felt every cell in your body thrum to life with feeling. sam looked dumbfounded.

"since we kissed," he deadpanned, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "you... didn't know?"

quiet. sam had kissed you drunkenly, on the way home from a party you had dragged him to just last week. as you both were heavily intoxicated, you thought it meant nothing. that it was a mistake. i mean, you barely even remembered what happened! now, though... "of course i didn't know..! just because you.." a swallow, "kiss... someone, doesn't mean you're dating, sam."

he closed his mouth, and you saw his adam's apple bob. "i— i thought you knew.." he near-whispered, his face doused in embarrassment and redness. you were aware of sam's lack of communication, but you never thought it was this bad.

"yea, that's.. obvious." you looked down awkwardly. "but— i didn't... i..." more quiet. you awkwardly met his eyes. "and that's why you..."

"i'm sorry," he said instead of answering your question. "i know i shouldn't have gotten angry— or.. i should've told you.. or asked you if you... wanted to.. date me. i just thought.."

a nervous and slightly relieved smile pulled at your lips, easing some of the tension in the room. "it's alright," you spoke, shifting awkwardly on your feet. "and i'm sorry too. for not letting you explain yourself. for jumping to conclusions. just— try not to get yourself suspended next time." the joke also eased that tension, eliciting a slight laugh from him.

"i'll try. i just.. couldn't..." you nodded so he didn't have to finish the sentence, eyes straying to the ground. there was still some distance between you. your legs itched to close it. maybe too soon. "if.. if i..." sam started. you looked up at him. "if i asked now, would you.. date me? still? is it.. too.."

"are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" you quipped delicately, finally drawing nearer. his body tensed the closer you got.

"only counts if you say yes." he shrugged, and you smiled, finally standing before him.

"then, yes. thanks for asking. this time." you had charlie clifford to thank for the rest of the night spent with sam, no matter how much you cursed him throughout it.

.

kinda hate this but i needed to write something for sam so 😞😞

this fic was inspired by @agirlsguidetolove !!!

#katiapostsss #katiawrites #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #anakin x you #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x reader #hayden #hayden christensen #hayden.txt #star wars anakin #star wars #life as a house #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker masterlist #anakin smut #sw anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin and padme #anakin skywalker

[theoddcatlady]

The Worst Wedding I've Ever Photographed

I’ve been a wedding photographer for nearly ten years and I thought I’d seen it all. Trashy, beautiful, tragic, hilarious, or just bizarre. I have stories. I have the typical groom getting caught getting it on with the maid of honor, family getting into brawls, brides OD-ing in the bathroom, gay couples having no one attend their wedding (or worse, the one uninivited homophobic relative crashing to just be a dick) stories. But we aren’t here for the typical stories. If we were, we’d be here all day. We’re here for the wedding from last October.

Fall weddings are probably my favorite, if I ever get married I’ll probably get hitched in the fall. It was the parents of the bride who came to me, asking for my services for a wedding in two weeks. Their original photographer apparently up and quit on them and they were desperate to have their darling daughter’s wedding immortalized in picture format.

Luckily for them, I had a clear schedule. I did charge them quite a bit extra for the suddenness of it all, but judging by the father’s Rolex it wasn’t that big a deal. One thing I’m good at guessing is a family’s wealth status. And once again I was on point- the Seawrights were rolling in dough.

Not that I really liked them though. I’m not required to like all my clients, although it does make things a bit more relaxing. Harold Seawright absolutely leered at my chest whenever he thought I wasn’t looking and Carol was clearly the trophy wife that was over the hill. I’ve never seen a human being that genuinely looked more like plastic than her. Nothing wrong with plastic surgery or Botox, but there’s gotta be a cut off at some point.

I think I should’ve been more off put by the parents coming to me rather than the bride, but I just figured said bride was busy with other wedding planning shit and didn’t think too hard on it.

Day came and uh… oh boy I realized I was getting into something I didn’t want to be a part of right away.

First time I saw the bride, Tanya, I had a brief moment of ‘I don’t know how old this girl is’. She could’ve been sixteen, she could’ve been just eighteen. Definitely not over twenty though. I’ve seen young marriages when it’s a shotgun affair, but then I met the groom. Marcel Wingate. Who was definitely no younger than thirty. And Marcel was just… something felt off. The man was a giant for one, he towered over me let alone Tanya. With his long, pale face and sunken eyes he could’ve been fuckin’ Lurch from the Addams Family.

When he shook my hand and introduced himself, I barely repressed a shiver. But years of practice helped me to smile and act like there wasn’t something slimy about all of this.

Tanya never said a word when she was made over for her big day. Only Carol did, chirping and twittering about ‘how about you make her hair a little bigger’ or ‘make her eyes pop, she has such pretty eyelashes’. Luckily Carol had to go have a smoke every fifteen minutes so the make up and hair people could have a moment to actually work. By the time it was all over, Tanya looked perfect. Her dress was basically a white ballgown, a tiara was placed in her strawberry blonde hair, cheeks blushing a perfect pink. But unlike most brides, she still hadn’t said a word and those weren’t sure as hell tears of joy she was holding back.

I’m sure you’ve heard about the ‘first look’ photo fad. I find it great to get that perfect expression a groom makes when he sees the bride in her dress for the first time. It’s usually quite cute. This was the first time I’ve shot a first look photo where I truly believe it was the first time the bride and groom have actually looked at each other.

Marcel did seem to have his breath taken away by his lovely bride, but her expression was less than thrilled as he took her hand and give it a tight squeeze. My stomached turned when he leaned in for a kiss on the cheek and she quite obviously flinched.

It’s time I put a pin on the myth that arranged marriages only happen in foreign countries, and only people from certain cultures take part in it. They happen all the time in the US, and more often than not it’s an old man who wants a ‘virgin’ bride, and by virgin I mean ‘still in fucking highschool’. This wouldn’t even be the first one I was hired to photograph.

I managed to catch Tanya alone in the room she got ready in, sitting next to the open window and twirling an unlit cigarette between her fingers. “Need a light?” I offered as I came in.

“No thanks. I don’t smoke, but they say it makes you feel better, right?” She said, looking up at me with those doll like blue eyes.

“It also gives you lung and throat cancer.” I took the cigarette from her and lit it up for myself. “But I’m a bad example, so do as I say, not as I do.”

Now that got a smile out of her, even if it only lasted a second. “How often do you smoke?” She asked.

“Depends on the day. Usually I have two or three. Bad day I can have a few more.” I lowered the cigarette and looked down at her. “How old are you, Tanya?”

“Nineteen. Twenty in a few weeks. I have a bit of a baby face.” She poked one of her cheeks. “Why do you care?”

I glanced at the door to make sure Carol wasn’t going to barge in. “Tanya, are you not okay with this? The wedding?” I asked quietly.

Tanya’s eyes widened. “Damn, you’re good,” She also glanced at the door, “… Harold, my stepdad, arranged all of this. If he had it his way it would’ve happened when I was fifteen, but Marcel kept delaying. Business, apparently. He tried to delay another year but my dad implied he had other offers.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “If I said no, Harold would kick me out and cut me off, frozen my bank account. I’d have nothing and no one, and… I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out one of my business cards. “Flip the card over, it has a number for a woman’s shelter- they specialize in helping women escape from dangerous home situations. Hides them, helps them get started in a new city if need be. Below that is my personal home number, if you just need to talk, okay?”

Tanya took the card and clung onto it tightly before tucking it into her bra. “You might be the nicest person I’ve ever met,” She murmured.

I gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I try,” I said before extinguishing the cigarette on the windowsill. “If you need to escape any time tonight, just ask me to help you go to the bathroom. We can pull a whole runaway bride,” I joked.

That got another laugh out of her, just in time for her mom to pop into the room. “Well, what’s taking so long? Hurry up, the wedding’s going to be starting in fifteen minutes, and I don’t want you to cry and make your face all blotchy and ugly!” She whined.

Tanya’s brief joy faded and she gave me one more sad look before following her mother out.

The ceremony would’ve been so much more beautiful if I didn’t know the dirty little secret behind it all. Tanya didn’t smile once. I don’t think even one of those bridesmaids was an actual friend of hers, or at least not a sincere one. When the priest said ‘you may kiss the bride’, Tanya let one tear slip down her cheek when Marcel leaned down to kiss her.

I was seriously considering calling the cops, but what could they do? Tanya would likely cave and say nothing was wrong, and since she wasn’t a minor they couldn’t label Marcel a pedo and her stepfather a child seller. It still didn’t make the situation any less shitty. All I could do was snap pictures of the worst day of Tanya’s life.

At the reception I was constantly being nagged by Carol about what pictures to take to the point where I wanted to rip her hair out, but I did notice something different about the first dance between the couple.

Tanya at first was stiff as a board, reluctant to even touch Marcel, but he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Her entire demeanor changed in a blink of an eye to one of surprise and I managed to read her lips- ‘really?’ Marcel nodded and I managed to catch a picture of the first smile Tanya had since she said ‘I do’. By the end of the dance, she was actually starting to get into it, resting her head on his chest as they swayed to ‘A Thousand Years’.

It was a complete 180 change, Tanya was now one of the happiest, and dare I say it flirtiest brides I’ve ever seen. She even leaned up to kiss him on the cheek as they sat down, something that took even Marcel by surprise judging by how he blushed.

I genuinely started to wonder if Marcel slipped something in her drink to get her acting so happy when Carol started to nag me again about where her husband was. She was the kind of mother who forgot this was her child’s wedding instead of her own and she wanted pictures of her and ‘Haaarold’. In order to get the fuck away from her I told her I’d go find him. He’d been hitting the open bar a little hard that night, I assumed he was in the bathroom either throwing up or cheating on his wife. It could’ve gone either way at that point.

When I approached the men’s room, I heard something that sounded like gargling or swallowing. Ew, I know, but I kinda hoped to ruin this nasty bitch’s day if her husband really was cheating so I opened the bathroom door with my camera at the ready.

I made eye contact with Harold.

Or rather, I made eye contact with Harold’s head.

It was sitting in the sink, expression twisted in abject horror. The room was soaked in blood, body parts strewn around the floor. Meanwhile, Marcel had stripped out of his tuxedo and was currently swallowing Harold’s arm. Whole.

Now I was wondering if I’d had something slipped into my champagne. Humans can’t just unhinge their jaw like that, each gulp taking Marcel’s arm deeper down his throat. I saw the tips of Harold’s fingers disappear with a small wave of goodbye… and then I dropped my camera.

Yes, I heard something break, no I didn’t care. I just saw the groom eat the goddamn father of the bride. Marcel’s head shot up and his eyes, before now they were a dull, watery gray but now they were mottled brown and red with slitted pupils. I felt frozen when those eyes looked at me.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, one moment.”

Marcel turned to the sink that was free of a man’s head and vomited, I heard several things clatter on the porcelain before he fetched them out and washed them off. With an embarrassed clearing of his throat, he walked up to me and pulled me into the bathroom.

I thought I was dead, but instead Marcel placed several diamonds in my palm. “For the camera, I didn’t mean to startle you,” He said.

“Uh huh,” I managed to get out as I stared at the literal handful of diamonds. This would pay for more than the camera. “… Why did you-”

“Devour Harold? Oh, I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Marcel chuckled as he grabbed some paper towels to wipe off his chin, like that would take away from the fact he was still naked and bloody in front of me. “A terrible person actually tastes quite divine. You would taste absolutely terrible. It’d be like swallowing nails. Meanwhile, a man who offers his own daughter as a sacrificial lamb to something he knows eats humans, he tastes like the richest cut of steak, cooked medium rare and seasoned to perfection.”

Jesus Christ, this twisted situation had taken on a whole new level of fucked up. “Wait, he seriously-”

“Oh, absolutely,” Marcel snorted, “And he’d do it again. All for what happens when my stomach processes human bone.”

I clutched the diamonds. “… You’re not going to hurt Tanya?” I asked.

Marcel shook his head vigorously. “God, no! I kept delaying the wedding in hopes that she’d manage to find a way out, but I think Harold was getting bored with my cold feet. There would be plenty of other people willing to pay for her, even if my payment would be easily thrice what others would offer.”

God, I was starting to feel a little dizzy. Here I was, talking to a human eating groom. I glanced out the door and a horrible idea entered my brain. One that would surely earn Marcel’s good favor and help out Tanya. “… So if I told Carol she could find her husband in the men’s room?” I asked.

Marcel seemed puzzled for a second but caught on quickly. With a nod, he picked up the head and tossed it into one of the stalls. I heard it splash in one of the toilets and I almost started giggling, I was nearing hysteria. “Go right ahead. I’ll be waiting,” He said as he kicked more limbs out of sight.

I almost left when I had to ask one more question.

“What the hell are you?”

Marcel cocked his head to the side before he changed, just for a second. One moment he was a blood soaked man, absolutely horrifying but normal, the next he was a snake… sort of. His body was gone, replaced by the body of an anaconda, but his head was still the same, minus the flick of a slim, forked tongue from his mouth. Then he was back to ‘normal’. He responded with a shrug.

“Funnily enough, I was hoping you’d tell me. I don’t have a clue.”

I left the bathroom and bumped into Carol almost immediately in the hallway. “Well, where is he?” She snapped.

I just pointed a thumb towards the bathroom. “Think he’s not feeling so well,” I said before I was nearly bowled over by the grumpy bitch.

I watched long enough for her to open the door and for a scaled tail to shoot out, snag her around the arm, and drag her into the bathroom before I headed back to the wedding.

The problem seemed to solve itself that night. Marcel came back, the men’s room locked after apparently someone got quite sick in there. Tanya no longer had to behave a certain way to please her mom and I think she had a good night. I used my back up camera to make sure to get all the pictures of her smiling. Carol and Harold vanished into thin air, never to be seen or heard from again. And those diamonds paid for quite the nice new camera.

Like I said, it’s been a year. I sure as hell haven’t forgotten that wedding, but what prompted me to share it was that I got a friend request from Tanya on Facebook. I normally don’t accept friend requests from previous clients, but this one time I chose to make an exception. She does look so much better, she’s going to college, she now sculpts and paints, she regularly volunteers at the woman’s shelter I directed her to when we first me, and every Friday night is group date night at the local arcade with some of Marcel’s friends that now appear to be her friends as well. Apparently Marcel is quite the Dance Dance Revolution master, but is terrible at shooting games.

Her most recent picture was her and Marcel, smiling. And she was holding up an ultrasound picture.

#my stories

[weebsinstash]

*strums guitar* you know who would be a total piece of shit, to be stuck up in Heaven fuckin FOREVER with

This douchebag! Gotta get some Adam content out before the finale drops and then I'm sure I'll be back for more then too!

I was listening to "You Didn't Know" again and I HATE this man, and because I hate him and he's an asshole, I can then see his wretched character doing shitty and debauched things

Which then means he's conceptually fuckable and we must discuss

I was sitting and thinking about. Ok in the most dramatic fucking way possible can you imagine being in the courtroom with Charlie as a Sinner Representative because you're dope like that, and Adam just starts fucking beefing with you on sight and you give it right back to him because HOMIE BASICALLY INVENTED MISOGYNY, you're standing in HEAVEN while an ANGEL looks you dead in the eye and calls you a CUNT like I wouldn't fucking tolerate it I'd be screaming at him like a feral beast, "why don't you look at your FEMALE BOSS and say that again, you dickless loser?!"

But can you imagine just having this insane BEEF, you guys are having MUSICAL DIAGETIC SINGING BEEF, and then, like. Either there in court or later on in the plot, hey, everything is good now, Sinners/you can ascend or we can go from heaven and hell and visit our families and everything is good now, yaaay! Or your name was mispelled on a form and it's like oh shit you were supposed to be in Heaven all along our bad and ONLY you are cool to "go upstairs"

And you can't even be happy about it because it's literally "oh cool I DO belong in Heaven!">wait but my friends are in Hell > oh fuck THAT ANGEL THAT HATES ME IS HERE, and sure enough he's standing there at the pearly gates to personally welcome you into Heaven, grinning like the cat that ate the canary, making it EXTREMELY CLEAR that he's basically gonna be stalking you because he wants to personally witness you fuck up and get sent back to Hell where he can kill you himself

Homie is back at base posting photos of you all over the walls like an insane person, "look at this tricky fucking bitch, fucking scheming, fucking planning something, fucking bitch" and even Lute is standing there, ".... that's a photo of them eating a sandwich, sir" and she's like TRYING to see where he's coming from but these are photos of you like SLEEPING and the suspicion that you might act out becomes an excuse to stalk you as he gets progressively more unhinged and perverted and frustrated (in more ways than one)

Let's also just discuss some baseline ideas! Abso fucking lutely do I see him as some, frat boy piece of shit who is always at least vaguely hostile to women so we're discussing female Reader specific ideas. Like imagine he's trying to actually be friendly and be cool with you or maybe you guys even hang out on good terms or whatever, maybe you both play guitar and he likes how you can shred it, and, he's the kinda guy to invite you to hang out and not specify other people are gonna be there so you get there and he's with his buddies and they're all talking about, gross shit like the size of the tits on the girl they last fucked, "oh hey did you sleep with Stacey" "fuck yeah I slept with Stacey you know that slut takes anyone", like, Adam deadass expects you to stand next to him with your red solo cup as they all talk about "the massive cow tits on that bitch" and if you even mildly imply this isn't entertaining "you're just bein a prude babe!"

Like Adam has no self awareness, he'll be saying horrid shit about women and then one of his buddies makes the most MILD of comments about you, "yeah your friend is kinda fuckable" and Adam is like in a RAGE, "hey man, that's not fucking cool! Let's go, outside NOW, fuckin step up, bro!" and he's brawling dudes for shit he's said about their conquests PLENTY of times

Just picturing the idea of like idk Saint Peter or even Emily flying around and they see you sitting on a bench outside far far away from where other people are and they fly down to greet you with the biggest smile, "hiya, how are you?" and you um look at them with such a genuinely dead, depressed, empty expression that they like cannot even fathom it. You're??? Unhappy??? In HEAVEN??? they cannot even comprehend it.

The real kicker is if you started to CRY and look this angel or seraph directly in the eyes as you ask, "can i... go back to Hell? I'm allowed to leave, right?" and THAT'S what raises massive red flags and sends that angel straight to their fucking boss. Sera would be over here, "oh she's having problems with Adam oh that's unfortunate but they'll sort them out -- WAIT WHAT DO YOU M E A N SHE WANTS TO LEAVE????" And,, oh, NOW they suddenly care about how happy you are, NOW they're suddenly willing to help maybe mildly keep Adam away from you. Because why? Because now you're potentially going to damage Heaven's perfect track record, and, geez they can't have you running around DEPRESSED, with your face looking all... ICKY and SAD! What if you made the other darlin-- I mean other residents of heaven sad and they maybe wanted to leave their precious angel protectors too? Huh? Ever think of that?

I love how I was sitting over here "what if like the entire Spider Society was yandere for the Reader" and ever since then my brain is like a puppy chasing treats, "what if I made this entire community mentally unhinged"

Also. Carmilla Carmine and her family + Zestial protecting Reader from Adam or any other angels because 👏 we can have as many mommies or daddies or fake family members as we want down here and that's the facts on that 👏

#hh #yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #sinprompts

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 12

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, tension??, angstangstangst

₊˚✩⊹

Four was worried. It’s been almost 5 days since the brawl at the Yiga clan hideout and you’ve barely spoken to anyone. At first, he brushed it off as being an aftershock, after all you were unconscious for the first 24-hours after the incident. But almost a week of not being your usual self? He was getting very worried.

You barely ate, picking at your food most of the time. Wild’s attempts at making your favorites didn’t help much either. You tossed and turned most nights, ending up sitting on your bedroll from the latest hours of the night, into the first rays of a new day. Your eyes were so so dull, you looked like a husk of yourself, as if someone tried to make a replica of you. As if someone could ever compare or replace you.

Four watched as you made your way over to him, sitting between him and Wind.

“If one of you asks me if I’m alright I’m going to kick your kneecaps in.”

“Got it.” Wind replies.

Four sighs, focusing back onto sharpening his blade. It was a small knife, the blade itself shorter than his forearm. It was his go-to when it came to small daggers, so he sharpened it every few days or so to keep it in pristine capability.

“Had enough of Cap and the Old man, huh?” Four mumbles, trying to look preoccupied. 

“Just tired of the contant looming over my shoulder and treating me like a damn vase.”

He nods. 

Wind groans lightly, “Ugh, tell me about it. They can’t see past me being a 12-year old, regardless if I fuckin’ killed Ganon or not.” He pulls out a small flask from his bag, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Since when do you drink?”

“Since when do you care?”

You back off, clearly it's a touchy subject.

“Sorry, Y/n.”

“All good.”

The night continues, Wind eventually setting up his bedroll to go to sleep. He shuffles up to Sky, who was out about half an hour ago, already somehow in deep sleep. The group relocated to a stable on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, the plan of going to the Arbiter’s Grounds being delayed, yet again.

You sigh, “I don’t know what to do anymore, Four. I’m just so… lost.”

He puts his dagger down, sheathing it. He looks at you, your face illuminated by the low light produced by the embers.

“Is this about your journey?”

You nodded. You could feel the tears already starting to leak from your eyes.

“Is it ok if I touch you, Y/n?”

You nod again, hiccuping lightly.

He scoots right next to you, putting your arm around your form and rubbing your arm slowly. Placing his chin on your head, he lets you cuddle up to him, crying softly into his chest. He combed his fingers through your hair, placing a light kiss on your head.

“I’m right here, Y/n. I’m here. Shhh.” he cradles you, holding you slightly tighter whenever a particularly louder wave of cries comes out of you. Legend was still awake, as it was his turn for watch, a solemn look on his face while he looked at you.

“E-Everything’s changing and I-I’m being left in the dark-” you hiccup, sobbing harder into Four’s chest. Four’s hold tightens on you again.

“What do you mean, Y/n?”

You gasp, “I could’ve-”

You breathe in again, “Everyone is acting different towards me and I know its all m-my fault because I don’t know what I fucking want.”

“I don’t think anyone knows what they want, baby.”

“I thought I did. I wanted to go home but after some stuff that’s happened recently… I don’t know. Is that selfish of me?”

Four shakes his head, “Of course not. Changing your mind in the process is natural.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m splitting myself into two versions of myself? One that’s in Hyrule and one that’s in my era.”

Four sighs dejectedly, placing another kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know, Y/n. I don’t know.”

~

A new dawn breaks over the horizon, shining onto the dew settled over Hyrule Field, the light fog dissipating. You fluttered your eyes open, your body scrunched up between Twilight and Hyrule, who were still in deep sleep. Feeling antsy, you climb over them and make your way to Wild, who was already awake, prepping breakfast.

He looked tired. You both were.

“Hey.” you rasped, your voice still hoarse from the crying of the evening before.

He looks at you, and gives you a small, tightlipped smile. He was swiping through his slate, gathering ingredients for breakfast. You placed your hand over his, causing him to halt in his actions. You both don’t move for a minute.

He slumps forward, face in his hands. Shakily, he says, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. If I didn’t leave you alone this could’ve all been prevented.”

You shake your head, “None of us knew, Wild. Riju didn’t know, Time didn’t. It’s not your fault, it was an accident.”

You bring him to lean against you, the slate being long forgotten about on the ground.

“I shouldn’t have wandered off, you literally told me not too. I’m partially at fault too.”

You chuckle, “And look where my stubborn self got me.” That seemed to make Wild crack a smile, making the tinge in your heart diminish. 

“You do have a hard time listening.” he said, you just give him a playful nudge.

“Har har, speak for yourself blondie.”

You both sit in comfortable silence, Wild going back to picking out ingredients on his slate. A thought pops into your head, “Wild, can I take a look at the mirror shard again? I wanna compare some of the hieroglyphics to the book Shad gave me.”

He tenses up slightly, but it quickly goes away, pulling out the shard from the slate. He carefully places the shard on your legs, making sure the sharp edge doesn’t cut your leg. Pulling out the Encyclopedia, you turn to the chapter about the Twili tribe.

You run your fingers along the markings on the mirror, lightly engraved into the mirror. Unsurprisingly, there were no visual differences from the shard in your lap and the mirror on the page, meaning this wasn’t just a replica but the real thing. Before you could continue reading, Twilight walks up behind you two, making you close the book and put the mirror away. You could read at a later time.

“Hey pup, Y/n.” Twilight mutters, voice raspy with sleep. Curse his bedroom voice making you weak.

You just waved, not trusting your voice at the moment. He sits next to you, you now sitting between him and Wild. You can feel his eyes on you, you glance at him asking “What?”

He still gazes at you, flickering his eyesight to Wild, then back to you.

“Oh, nothin’. You two just seem cozy.”

Wild snaps his head at his mentor, “Shut up, Twi. Don’t think I don’t notice you making goo-goo eyes over there.”

“Right. Speak for ya self, pup.” he remarked, snorting at Wild’s fumbling. You smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

A moment of silence passes, just the sound of the breeze blowing past your ears, causing stray hairs to stream over your face. The clouds seemed gray today, but not like an imposing storm was about to break, no, more peaceful. Serene.

“What are you guys going to do once this is all done and over with?” you ask, not really knowing where the question came from.

“Jeez I don’t know, probably go home and help around Hateno and the princess. I know she’s building a school for the village.” Wild says, looking out onto the terrain.

Twilight ponders for a moment. He didn’t really think about what he was going to do once this was over and once… you left. He never really thought you’d leave, especially now that it feels so soon and abrupt, he’s dreading his future.

“Don’t know, to be honest. Go back to Ordon, help Rusl and with the farm. Make sure the kingdom ain’t in shambles.” he lied. That was the last thing he wanted to do after all of this. He didn’t want to return after knowing what it's like not being alone anymore. He was left behind once, he didn’t want it again.

“You’re a terrible liar, Twi.”

“What? No I’m not-”

“Your ears twitch when you lie.”

“It’s true.” Wild muttered, resulting in a slap up the back of his head from Twi.

Twilight sighed. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned to you “Truth is… I didn’t think this would end. Don’t get me wrong, I love home and bein’ with everyone it’s just… after I’ve found people who know what it’s like to carry this burden, I don’t think I want anything else.”

You hated this feeling of guilt you were starting to feel about going home. You didn’t belong here, you weren’t meant to be here, unlike them. You needed to go home, forget everything, or at least regard it as a really good dream. 

But it’s not that simple, is it?

“I don’t want to leave you guys. I really don’t. I’ve become so attached to this life and all of you and I feel… heartbroken.” you sighed, laying on your back, blades of grass digging slightly into your exposed skin. 

“I mean… you don’t have to. I may be wrong saying that, but Hylia isn’t necessarily pulling you into a portal to go home.” Wild offers, choosing his words carefully.

You groan in frustration, “I know, I know. But its so much more difficult. Like, yeah I won’t have to deal with stupid shit like college classes or working my entire life for a mediocre job, but… my brother and my aunt are home and they need help. I have a few friends that are probably wondering where I’ve been and if I’m ok. I don’t want them to worry for me and my life, knowing that makes me feel so much worse, y’know?”

Both men nodded, relating to your thoughts on some level. Their adventures weren’t by choice and pulled them away from their friends and family without a warning. A burden that can’t be undone or altered.

“Either way, you didn’t have much of a choice. You were sucked in the portal as well, a quest destined for you, as well.” Hyrule spoke, quietly padding up to you three.

You snort, “Have you been listening this entrie time, Rulie?” 

“Eh, bits n’ pieces. The others are waking up anyways.”

You sit back up and decided to be productive for another 20-30 minutes, as Wild was just barely starting to cook breakfast. From what you could tell, it looked to be a sweeter meal this morning.

You looked back at the book, reading through the script. You were sitting against Twilight, a nice support for your back. You tried to not pay attention to his warm breath on your neck or the feeling of his eyes on you, but that was easier said than done. 

You zoned out everyone’s chatter, finally focusing on the task at hand. You took the mirror back out again and tore a spare piece of paper from an old journal a merchant gave you, using an old piece of charcoal to transfer the engravings of the mirror onto the paper so you could compare with less physical effort and so Wild could keep the shard in his Slate whenever you needed to reference the imagery again. The hieroglyphics transferred seamlessly, the paper seemingly identical to the mirror.

Looking back to the book, you filled in the missing shards and any images/lettering that faded or was carved off for reasons unknown. You then pulled away, looking at your work. Not too shabby.

But you noticed something peculiar. The mirror in the book had straight lines that overlapped the ornate designs, almost as if someone carved them in years after its initial creation. It wasn’t messy by any means, though it seemed that it wasn’t the initial design of the mirror. 

What if…?

“Four, I need a small blade really quick.” you said, not taking your eyes off of your drawing.

He was about to say something, but Legend beat him to it, handing you a small blade just slightly longer than your palm. Muttering a ‘thanks’, you start cutting the paper along the lines that you copied, making sure to keep your hand steady. Once you finished, you handed the blade back to Legend, then focused back onto the scraps of paper in front of you.

You started rearranging the pieces, aligning each piece with the associated shape or side. The pieces started forming a familiar shape, but something was different. Something you should’ve seen before. Something everyone should’ve seen.

“What is it, Y/n?”

You look up at Twilight.

“It’s not a triforce, Link. It’s a tetraforce.”

₊˚✩⊹

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe au #final promise au

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC Prompt: IT'S LIKE YOU DON'T LISTEN

(Inspired by the song: Don't Listen (Amanda The Adventurer Fan song)

So, we've all see Danny interacting with the Joker in fanfics (I love them so fuckin' much). He's just an absolute menace but I think we're missing on other interactions with the DC villains. (I've explored some of these in my fics but ignore that I just love this idea so much I use it a lot)

Scarecrows whole thing is making people see their biggest fear which as far as we know Danny's biggest fear is hurting those he cared about. Literally he's faced his biggest fear and because his powers prevent him from being affected by drugs he's going to really piss Scarecrow off. No matter what mixture, how dangerous, how deadly he makes it he can't get it to work on Danny and it's driving him crazy.

Killer Croc is a whole threat, but this 5'5" teen who hasn't slept in four days and just poured five-hour energy and monster into his coffee is ready to brawl and can catch his fist with a single hand all while cracking jokes or complaining about how he was hoping to take a nap. It's not just Croc either, Bane is having the same issue with the white haired kid who just showed up out of the blue one day and it's pissing them both off.

Penguin and Cat Woman will steal something just to get home and realize the damn thing is gone! But who the hell could have stolen it from them? AND HOW THE HELL IS IT BACK FROM WHERE THEY STOLE IT FROM?! It's becoming more and more difficult to be a hard working thief these days.

But then there's the Riddler. He sets up puzzle after puzzle, countless traps, countless counter traps. He's planned them out and made sure that there's no way he can lose. At least that's what he thinks until Phantom shows up and suddenly just deactivates all his shit without bothering with his riddles. Then the one time he gets him to actually do a riddle he doesn't seem to care that his life is in danger! Or that other lives are in danger - turns out a duplicate saved the hostages and he was literally just messing with the Riddler who just got a bit too invested in the fact that he finally caught Phantom.

Villains are getting more and more frustrated and they're starting to get desperate.

#dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #my prompts #sorry if this doesn't make much sense #still sick #I'm sure having a super low tempature isn't bad tho #nothing hot cocoa and cuddles can't fix right?

[atarathegreat]

Draken. Petty. Hair. DO IT.

Suck toes.

Ken Ryuguji x reader

What happens when gang member has a bad week and wakes up in a sour mood...alone?

Each day was as shitty as the last. If it wasn't the little annoyance of Mikey falling asleep after eating or making Kenny carry him around it was another gang trying to get on Toman turf or some brats picking a fight with him. Kenny felt like he couldn't catch a break, and just then was no different.

"Get lost, punk. I'm not in the mood today!" Draken growled, Mikey asleep on his back as he walked. It was just the perfect moment for the first year to get his ass beat. God, if Kenny could just put Mikey on the sidewalk and leave this whole mess to the unconscious boy. Though, he'd never leave his friend to handle his problems, even if Mikey could handle it. "Oh, is the big bad Draken afraid to fight a kid?" The little shit cackled. Cackled!

Kenny carefully put Mikey on the nearby bench, more pissed than he had been that whole week. "Your fuckin' funeral, brat."

He knew he was an amazing fighter, so he wasn't worried about him. Draken was, however, worried about how hard he was going to hit the boy. He went for a decent hit, sending the kid back a little bit and turning to grab Mikey. There was no need to double check the kid, it was obvious that he was out cold. "You owe me, Mikey." Kenny grumbled. Already that day had been filled with more fights than he liked.

And it didn't get any better when they got to the gang meeting. Peh-Yan was in a mood, meaning Pah-Chin was in a mood and they were picking fights with people left and right. As vice commander Draken had to deal with that. Nahoya was getting fired up because of Pah and Peh. As vice commander he had to handle it. Someone started an all out brawl in the middle of the crowd, and when Kenny went to break it up with the captains his head jerked back from a hit to the nose. It pissed him off to the point he had to leave the meeting.

Why were people all over him? Couldn't he catch a damn break? Didn't he earn some peace and quiet? It was stupid and Kenny was tired of being the person everyone ran after. It almost made him wish he'd dropped the gang shit when he was younger, and it wasn't any better when he returned home.

"Where have you been, Ken?" One of the ladies was already standing at the check in desk of the brothel, "It's late, you know?"

"Tch, get off my ass, okay? M'not in the mood." Draken walked past her. She grabbed hold of his shirt collar, tutting as she pulled him back, "C'mon now, young man, don't talk to me like that. I helped raise your ungrateful ass that I'm on."

He'd had enough, snapping at her for the first time, "Then maybe you shouldn't have! Ever think about that? Or are you too busy thinking about yelling at me when I come home?"

They both paused, Kenny staring angrily at her. He wasn't mad at anyone but himself in that moment, and stormed back past her and to the elevator.

It wasn't her fault he was having a bad week, and she was just being worried about where he'd been running off to so late. He sighed, knowing he'd get that later. She had been the one to primarily raise him, cared for him despite not being obligated to. She'd taught him to walk and talk, helped him learn to shave his face without really knowing how to herself. Kenny slammed a palm into his head as he thought about everything she'd done for him, but it didn't matter. He'd already snapped at her and couldn't bring himself to so much as text her.

There was only one place he could go anymore that wasn't going to make him feel guilty or pissed off, unless she'd had a shit day as well. It was worth it to at least see, and if he left quickly even more pissed off, then whatever.

But, heaven and earth, if he didn't feel a little bit of the weight fall from his shoulders when she answered the door. Her startled smile was still brighter than anything he'd faced his whole life, "Ken-Chin? Is everything okay?" All he had to do was shake his head and fall into a hug. She chuckled, her smaller body supporting the weight of the world that rested on Kenny.

"I can't do it, this week has sucked ass and I can't handle this shit." Kenny followed her inside like a lost and beaten dog. She sauntered around the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of something Kenny couldn't see and a wash cloth. "What happened to your nose, Kenny?" Y/n took her place between his legs, reaching out to gently clean the dried blood from his nose and lip.

"Got punched while I was at the meeting. Left early." Kenny mumbled as he leaned into her, his knees squeezing her middle to trap her next to him, "Weeks been shit, m'done doing it."

She sighed and the sound was enough to make Ken wish he hadn't brought his issues to her door, "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nah, just the normal shit being excessive." He wiped his face to get the peroxide off, smiling at Y/n, "Doing better now, I think."

It was her, everyone knew it was her that kept Kenny chilled out on his bad days. To Mikey it was more than obvious that Kenny sought out her presence when things got tough, often bringing her to meetings and glancing at her just to see her smile. She often lightened the mood, along with Emma who was just as giggly.

Kenny had met Y/n on a day that he needed it the most. He was about to get jumped by a ton of punks, and though he could've handled all of them, he was relieved when he didn't have to. She stomped up from behind him, loud and angry and pointing in everyone's faces, "Who do you think you are, ganging up on someone? I'm ashamed that you all go to this school! Go on!" And her spunky little self seemed to not mind that Kenny was clearly a delinquent, even smiled at him and commented on his tattoo.

The same tattoo she was tracing with her fingertip, talking about her day as Draken zoned back in, "And the math class was so hot I had to take my jacket off and-Kenny?" She'd only just noticed the way his hands were shaking, holding tightly to the bottom of her shirt, "M'fine, sweetheart. Keep talking."

"Well, I had to take my jacket off and, of course, my pen had to have busted in my skirt pocket and stained up my shirt. I've still got a black splotch stained onto my side!" She wound her finger around the dragons tail, making Kenny shiver and rest his head on her shoulder, "So a lot of the girls were laughing about that, rude tramps. But, I knew that I could change in the nurses office so it was an easy fix."

Listening to her problems made him feel better. Seeing how silly she acted over a busted pen, somehow made him feel happy he didn't have such trivial angers.

"What about you, Ken-Chin?" She asked, taking out his braid. He shrugged, "The usual. Little brats want to fight, Mikey is lazy, and the gang is wild. It's just a bit much right now."

"Maybe you should get some rest? You know Mom and Dad don't mind you staying here, we can share my bed, too." Y/n parted his hair down the middle, tugging lightly as she played with it, "You'll wake up and feel ten thousand times better!"

And he wouldn't deny it, either. Instead of grumbling, as he wanted to, he got up and stretched. Never did it cease to amaze him how he towered over her, and he saw it every time she had to crane her neck to look at him. And still Kenny trudged down the hall behind Y/n, yawning and ready to just relax. She tossed the blanket out and laid it over the bed, waving for Kenny to get comfortable. He wasn't about to waste his time asking silly questions of "Are you sure?" He knew she was serious and she'd kick his ass if he didn't get sleep.

But he was going to kick her ass when he woke up alone, to laughter in her living room. Kenny stayed silent as he stood in the hallway, watching as she brushed Mikey's hair, talking about how Kenny had showed up that night. Mikey thanked her as she put his hair up, only the top just how he liked it, and she smiled at him.

There was a quick shot that went through his chest, it was bothersome. Why was Mikey being so close to her? Why was she just smiling at him and laughing as though Kenny, as far as she knew, wasn't still laying in her bed. He could see his hair tie on her wrist and walked up behind them, "Move, Mikey." He didn't hesitate to pick up his best friend and toss him to the other seat, sitting on the floor in front of Y/n. She giggled, resting her legs over his shoulders and moving to softly brush his hair. There were a few knots, but not too many, and she was careful to not tug on them.

"A braid, as usual?" She leaned over and tapped his chest with the brush. He nodded, "Would ya'?"

Kenny didn't mind the slight tugging that pulled his head backward, he was just thankful that her attention was on him and not someone else.

#anime #manga #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #Draken #draken x reader #ken ryuguji #ken ryuguji x reader #kenny #kenny x reader #x reader #x female reader #x you #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.1 - Ryan x Dutton!reader

Um so I watched all of Yellowstone last week and as a result, my multi-year writer's block was broken by a need to see more of Ryan because I am obsessed with Ian Bohen. Idk how many parts this will have or how often it will get updated as I'm in the last few months of uni but I hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!Reader (Kayce's twin sister)

WC: 1053

Next part

Disclaimer: Beyond watching Yellowstone I have zero/little knowledge of Western riding and the ranching lifestyle but I do know horses so that has certainly influenced this! I'm also English so writing dialogue correctly for them is not my strong point! If you find any issues please let me know!

---

The sun was just beginning to dip below the mountains and the cold was starting to set in when she joined him on the fence.  Neither of them spoke for a while, just looking out at the vastness in front of them, all that was theirs but came with so many conditions.  

Eventually she broke the silence, “so you told him?  How’d he take that one?”

Wordlessly he opened his shirt where the ‘Y’ was just starting to scab over, still red and angry.

“Motherfucker,” she swore, “this ain’t fair Kayce.  He doesn’t just get to do this.”

He shook his head, “dad does whatever he wants and there ain’t no consequences for him.  That’s why I gotta do this.”

“Shit man.  What’s Monica gonna do?  Besides worrying about you getting your ass shot in the desert miles from civilisation?”

Kayce chuckled, “beats getting my ass shot in the middle of Montana miles from civilisation.  She’ll be okay, her family will help and she’ll be a teacher.  Just like she planned.  It’s you I’m worried about here with dad and no one else to speak sense to.  ‘Cept Lee”

“Well I’m leaving, dad be damned.  I’m not gonna be a pawn in his power trip.  Gonna go see this godforsaken country and win it all so that when I come back he can’t question whether it’s where I wanna be,” she declared.

Her brother rolled his eyes, “you ain’t talking about the same him now.”

“I don’t know what your talking about,” she denied, staring out at the darkened mountains.

Kayce shoved her shoulder, “you can’t bullshit to me y/n.  That’s the one problem with being twins, ain’t no way to lie to me.”

“I’m just a kid to him, he ain’t ever gonna see me any other way if I stay here,” she admitted, “hell if I stay here no one will ever see me as anything more than his kid.  ‘S why we both gotta do this Kayce.”

He nodded, “no way to stand in the sun in this state, always gonna be a shadow.”

“When I come back I’ll be able to stand in sunlight so bright I’ll have a fucking halo.”

-/-/-

2 years later…

 Montana has its charms all year round, but fall has a particular appeal.  The leaves had started to turn, there was a chill in the air that only seemed to get  stronger and there was still a frost on the grass that the sun hadn’t hit.  

With the sun keeping the cold from their bones, the Yellowstone ranch hands were occupying themselves keeping their roping skills fresh.  Rip observed from the sidelines as the new hand struggled to keep up with Ryan who turned to lecture the kid about keeping his eye on the steer.  

Lloyd rolled his eyes when he missed the horns again, “you gotta try harder than that if you wanna be a wrangler!”

“He keeps pulling the damn steer too early,” the hand argued back.

Ryan glared at him, “don’t fuckin’ blame me for your bad skills.”

Before they could descend into an all out brawl, the group were distracted by the sound and sight of truck coming down the road.  They watched it pull up in front of the barn, trailer in tow.  A rare silence occupied them as they watched a young woman step out, adjust her hat then stare out across the ranch in front of her.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lloyd muttered, “she’s back.  You fuckin’ know about this?”

Rip said nothing, but his face gave the answer.  The other hands who recognised her muttered between themselves about what she was doing back after so long.

The new hand leaned over towards Ryan, “who the fuck is that and why does everybody care?”

“That is y/n Dutton,” he answered without taking his eyes off of her.

“I didn’t know John had another daughter,” he responded.

Ryan shook his head, “hell kid you gotta lot to learn about this place.”

“She’s fuckin’ hot mind,” the hand murmered.

The older hand spat out his words, “you keep words like that off your tongue if you want to keep it.”

Lee stepped out of the barn and stepped around the truck to greet her, “the prodigal daughter returns.”

“I don’t see Beth anywhere,” she laughed bitterly, “but it’s good to see you Lee.”

He hugged her, “I’m glad you’re back.  Been a long time coming.”

“I came back for me, not for him remember that,” she turned towards the corral, “think I’ve given them enough of a show to explain it so they can pick their jaws up off the floor?”

He gestured for her to follow him towards where the ranch hands were all still quietly watching.  She strode over to the group, smiling at Rip who nodded back at her.

“Where’s that mare of yours?” He asked.

Y/n shrugged, “a champion barrel horse would be wasted on this ranch.  Sold her for more money than I’m ever gonna earn in the rest of my lifetime.”

“You ain’t rodeoing anymore?” Lloyd questioned.

“I did what I set out to do when I went on the circuit.  Saw this godforsaken country and won it all.  It’d get boring to win it over again,” she moved her gaze towards where Ryan was watching her, “ain’t no one gonna question where I wanna be now.”

Rip nodded, “afraid we ain’t got a horse to spare for you y/n.”

“I got that covered Rip.  Got one coming up tomorrow from a ranch in Wyoming.  Some fuckin’ old school boys who don’t know how to be nice to a horse they didn’t ruin,” she explained, “man’s wife broke it and now she’s dead ain’t no one gonna ride him gentle.  Figured he might stand a chance with me.”

Lloyd chuckled, “always were a soft hand.  Figured that’s how you won it all.”

“Guess that question that remains is, do you have a place for me?  Not in the house but here,” she clarified.

Lee looked at Rip then back at his sister, “I reckon so.  You gonna stay in the bunkhouse?”

“Oh fuck no,” y/n laughed, “I didn’t drag that thing all the way from Texas to sleep with these fuckheads.  It’s looked after me in worse places.  Think it’ll do just fine here.”

#ryan yellowstone #ryan yellowstone x reader #yellowstone #yellowstone tv #yellowstone imagine #dutton ranch #dutton!reader #ian bohen

[gallusrostromegalus]

Bleach is full of characters who cannot fucking stand people they ostensibly work alongside. In AEIWAM, who holds the deepest, most caustic grudge(s) in Hueco Mundo and/or Soul Society?

BOY FUCKIN' HOWDY there are some deeply caustic and fucked up relationships and I dumped battery acid on the existing ones, then made up more for AEIWAM. Pick Who you want to hear about first:

Yamamoto and his Ex-Wife (OC).

Yamamoto and every single major and minor noble house, the Shiba clan, the Urahara clan, the central 46, the Punishment squad, Every Single Provincial Governor, and One Monkey Specifically.

Mayuri in General but things are particularly fucked between him and Nemu, Jizo (his zanpaktou), Captain Unohana, Kon, Kisuke Urahara, and The Actual King Of Hell.

The mans done fuckt up.

Gin is another strong contender for Worst Coworker Of All Time, esp in regards to Matsumoto and Kira, but definitely his most bizarre relationships are with Aizen and Urahara.

Speaking of Urahara, the man is a magnet for Drama, and is currently on the Shit List of... yeah, it's actually shorter to list the people Kisuke has NOT seriously pissed off at this point.

As in, among his theoretical immediate coworkers, the only people without a *specific* axe to grind with him are Matsumoto and Zaraki, and that is soley because they have not had the opportunity to work with him directly.

Yet.

If you asked Urahara to name his greatest nemesis though, he'd probably pick Don Kanonji.

In a dark horse of Drama, Retsu Unohana has recently made a discovery that's put her already-kinda-tense relationship with her medical mentor Tenjiro Kirinji in an awful new light and that is brewing into a nasty fucking brawl.

And she's only Kirinji's Second biggest Hater :)

None of the Arrancar really get along with each other, mostly because carnivores tend to be solitary and need a lot of personal space but fucking nobody likes Nnoitra.

Aizen, who hired Nnoitra, does not like Nnoitra.

You'd think his biggest hater among the arrancar would be Harribel on account of the Misogyny, but it's actually Aaroniero and Arruruerie.

...because they're not quite what they appear to be :)

Beyond the arrancar, Zaraki Kenpachi has beef with nnoitra that transcends lifetimes

Ironically, self-described self-centered asshole Grimmjow is the most social of the Arrancar, with his gang of Adjuchas followers and his extremely one-sided homoerotic rivalry with Ulquiorra and heck, he even has borderline-normal conversations with Coyote Starrk, when Coyote is awake.

Zommari and Sayzel would each beat him to death with a chiar if give half a chance, and for the same reason: Cat Hair.

Later in the Series, Grimmjow manages to move himself to the top of Yoruichi Shihon's "To Kill" list by attending the Seireitei Flower Festival.

Barragan is generally not well-liked but his most utterly seething hatred is reserved for a Roadrunner.

Speaking of Hollow-adjacent Persons, the Visoreds get along pretty well with each other, and of them Kensei and Mashiro are probably the closest, but there is Just One Thing you cannot mention around them because it will stir up a century-old and extremely bloody argument.

I'm still forming up what's going on with Yhwach and the Sternritter but DEAR GOD there is so much fucked up shit in there. Like. It's a cult there was no way this was coming out well but HOO BOY.

Lillie barro's #1 Nemesis in the Court Guards is Yachiru Kusajishi tho. She thinks he's mildly funny.

Lots of people die but the worst death so far is probably PePe Waccabrada at the hands of Retsu Unohana. He has it coming though.

Unless you count what happens to Giselle but the issue there is really that she does not die.

Definitely the most fucked up Quincy is Kanae Ishida, whose rage not even death can stop.

And of course,

Ichigo and Isshin Kurosaki

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #bleach fanfic

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

A Bad Day Turned Good

Okay! This one was a request from @kieropal​, and, as most of my works go, this is right off the top of my head, so I hope it lives up to expectation! 

The ask was for a grumpy Arthur, and the reader helping him calm down, as to how, you ask, you shall see....

Female reader!

18+ ONLY

Arthur Morgan’s day had been terrible from the moment he woke up. 

First of all, his cot had been empty, you weren’t in it, which had made him upset to begin with. Dramatic? Maybe a little, but that had been the least irritating thing that had happened all day. 

He already had a job settled up to do, and then it was pushed back because someone else wanted to push one of their jobs onto him. 

So, he knew he was going to be tired, hell, he planned on being tired. 

Well.

Going on that bank job that Bill had ended up pushing onto him ended up with him being bucked forwards off his horse onto the hard ground, his face was bruising and he’d ruined a pair of his favorite pants. 

He’d gotten mud in his mouth, and his lip broke open. 

Then, after that, he went on the job he’d originally planned on doing, only to find out that the information he’d been given had been shit. A coach he’d been hoping to rob ended up having next to nothing in it. A couple dollars at best. 

So, to make up for that, he’d spent much of his day scouting out more jobs. He couldn’t return to camp with just five dollars to show for his days effort. 

He’d traveled across what felt like the entire country. 

He’d tried hunting, hoping to maybe sell some of the skins and bring meat back to camp, only to scare off every single animal he attempted to hunt. 

He followed one of the maps he’d found, and it only lead to a different map, and he knew he didn’t have enough time to start a whole hunt, so that had been given up.

Then, as he’d finally decided that today had just been a bust, and that he was simply going to get a drink and head home, some dumbass at the bar had decided to throw a punch and he’d been thrown into a bar brawl with no choice but to fight back. 

You hadn’t known any of this until he’d shown up at camp, covered in bruises and blood, his jeans torn at the knees and his jaw clenched so hard that you were afraid there was a chance he’d crack a tooth.

He’d beelined straight for you, ignoring the others as they tried to say hello. 

The moment he’d reached you he gripped your forearm and started to drag you to his tent. 

You’d nearly yelled out at him, his grip was so firm on your arm you were almost afraid he’d bruise you, but you could clearly see something was wrong with him.

As soon as you’d stepped into his tent, he pulled the tent flaps down and turned to you a scowl on his face.

“Arthur I’m sorry I-”

“Look at me,” He cut you off, gesturing to his body. “Look at this bullshit, you see this? All the shit I went through today?” 

“Arthur I-” 

“I just wanted to do one simple job, just one, and that was a fuckin’ bust,” He snorted and started to pace back and forth. “Bill’s job was successful at the cost of my pants, some jackass wanted to fight in the saloon when I just wanted one single fuckin’ drink.” 

“I had to run around half the goddamn fuckin’ country, tryna rustle up at least one fuckin’ job that would actually mean somethin’ so I had more than a couple quarters in my satchel for camp.” 

He snorted and smacked his thigh.

“Animals fuckin’ ran at the sight of me, so I couldn’t even bring food home.”

He took a deep breath. 

“Y/n. I’m fuckin’ tired.” He looked at you, and you felt nothing but pity for your outlaw, the bruises on his face, the tired bags under his eyes, and the look in his eyes. 

“Oh, Arthur.” You opened your arms and stepped forwards, and waited as Arthur looked at you, clenched his jaw, and then caved.

He stepped forwards and let you wrap your arms around him, and leaned his chin against your shoulder, you could feel his breath against your neck.

“Here, go sit.” You stepped back and gestured towards the cot, walking with Arthur as you made him take a seat. 

He sat in front of you now, looking up at you with that same tired expression. He seemed almost completely drained now of all the fury he’d seemed to have.

“’M sorry for yellin’.” Arthur mumbled. “I didn’t mean it.” 

“Arthur,” You coo. “You didn’t yell, I’m okay. Let me take care of you okay? Clean up these cuts and bruises, okay?” 

He nodded quietly and then watched you as you went to the end of the cot and started digging for the supplies you needed in the chest there. 

You were able to find what you needed easily, and returned to your lover with a smile on your face. 

“Why don’t you tell me something good that happened?” You asked, taking his face in your hands.

He seemed to melt in your touch, as he always did, closing his eyes and leaning his head to the right, directly into your palm, offering a small kiss in the middle of it.

“Nothin’.” He muttered. “All of it was horrible.” 

You rub a gentle circle around his cheek, feeling the stubble under your thumb and smile again, even though he kept his eyes closed. 

“Come on, I’m sure you had at least one thing good happen.” You chuckle, and quietly begin to patch him up, placing small bandages over the cuts littered on his face. 

“You, I got you, always got you.” He sighed. “Too damn good for me, always have been.” 

You scowl now, and gently tilt his head towards you, making him actually face him.

“Open your eyes.” You mumble. 

He listens, and you stare him directly in the eyes.

“Don’t say that. What have I told you about that? You’re much better than you give yourself credit for.” 

“I’m sorry Darlin’.” He closed his eyes again and leaned into your hand once more. “I just...I feel...I feel like I didn’t do shit today, nothin’ helpful at least.” 

Maybe there’s something I can do to cheer him up a little....

You lean in, and place a kiss on his lips, which at first he doesn’t react, but after only a few seconds he kissed you back, a little bit of his energy seemingly returning. 

It wasn’t long before his hands made their way to your hips, and then to your ass.

You let your hand wander over his chest, almost with a featherlight touch, putting your hand under the collar of his shirt. 

You manage to push him back a little further onto the cot, placing a knee up on it, nearly straddling him. 

Your other hand traversed lower, grazing over his thigh, and you listened to the groan Arthur offered which you easily muffled. 

Arthur tried his best to pull you further into his lap, but you resisted, and pulled away from his lips, leaving another disappointed look on his face.

“C’mon now, that ain’t fair gorgeous-”

“Let me take care of you Arthur.” 

“Huh?” 

“Let me take care of you, alright? Don’t worry about me, let me do all the work.” 

“No, that ain’t fair-”

“It’s more than fair,” You state and lean a little further over him, your hand slowly gliding ever so closer towards the center of his tightening jeans. “You take care of me all the time, you take care of the camp like the strong, handsome man you are, and now today you’ve had a bad day. I want to make you feel good Big Boy.” 

He swallows and looks at you, and for a moment you think he’s going to fight you again, but he nods silently instead, his face going red, and his ears following suit. 

A smile creeps along your face and you lean in to kiss him again, taking the lead, slipping your tongue in his mouth, tasting the small bit of whisky left there from his earlier endeavors. 

Again, Arthur’s hands find your thighs, and you do your best to keep quiet. 

Your hand finally finds his arousal, palming it through his jeans, and another groan escapes his mouth, and you feel a familiar heat begin to pool at your stomach. 

“Princess....” He mumbles against your lips. “Please, don’t tease me-” 

You smirk, and decide, for that, you will. 

You settle yourself down on his thigh, and begin to kiss his neck, sucking and biting at the places you knew were the most sensitive to him. 

While still managing to palm him you begin to rock gently against his thigh, giving yourself just a little bit of pleasure from the friction of your own clothes as well as his jeans.

“Darlin’...please...” He’s nearly begging, tired from the day already, but the fury he’d felt earlier is no where in sight, and for that you’re proud of yourself. 

“Arthur,” You move your head to his ear, keeping your voice low. “Let me show you just how excited you get me, and you aren’t even doing anything.” 

You reach for his wrist, taking it gently and guiding him to your jeans, you’d unbuttoned them earlier, when you weren’t sure, but you figured it wasn’t exactly important when it had happened. 

Arthur takes the hint and places his hand down the front of your jeans, and swallows as he reaches your heat.

“Jesus...” He looks at you, a look of almost disbelief on his face. “I ain’t...Sweetheart-”

You take his wrist and pull it away from you as he starts to move his fingers, and he gives a confused look.

“I said let me take care of you, I can worry about myself later,” you mutter. Gently you guide his hand to your mouth and lick your arousal from his fingers. 

“Christ...” His voice is breathy and he leans his head back against the wagon behind him.

You’ve decided he’s had enough teasing, and you remove yourself from his thigh, which in return he gives almost a whimper. 

“Don’t go-” 

“Spread your legs Arthur.” 

He furrows his brow but watches as you kneel before him, placing your hands on his knees and pushing his legs apart. 

You glide your hands up, going slowly over his thighs, watching the recognition in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, you ain’t gotta-” 

You unbutton his jeans, and watch as his cock springs forward, the tip red and alreadly leaking precum. 

“Arthur, look at this,” You mumble and gently run your thumb over the tip, listening to the almost whine that comes from him. “I really haven’t done much.” 

He’s silent as he watches you, disheveled, his chest red and so are his cheeks.

“I always forget how big you are.” You mumble. “I doubt I can fit the whole thing in my mouth.”

“Jesus...” He leans his head back again and just as he does you lick from the base to the tip of him, and listen as he inhales sharply, trying not to make a sound. 

“Why don’t you make some sound for me,” You look up at him, feigning innocence. “Can you do that for me? Can you be a Good Boy?”

“Yes Ma’am.” 

You look him in the eye as he leans back forwards, and put him in your mouth, licking the tip, tasting him.

You do your best to take all of him, but what you can’t fit you use your hands for. 

You even gently caress his balls, which really makes him moan, a prettier sound you’ve never heard. 

You’ve never been particularly good at this, at least you didn’t think so, but you did your best, moving your head back and forth, using your tongue to the best of your ability. 

Arthur’s sounds make you believe that maybe you’re a bit better at this than you thought.

His hand manages to find it’s way to the back of your head, entangling in your hair, and before you know it he’s guiding you, pushing and pulling where he needed, groaning throughout with each hum you give him.

His hips buck forwards and for a moment he apologizes but it’s lost soon after as you continue without stopping.

“Fu...fuck...sorr...sorry..” 

The bucks only begin to get more frequent, his apology forgotten.

One of his hands grips your hair, the other the cot beneath him, his knuckles going white.

He looks down at you, and in his eyes you’re the most beautiful thing, your eyes streaming tears down your face and the corners of your mouth trailing spit down your chin.

Looking at you almost finishes him off, but he quells it, if only just for a moment, he wants this to last. 

Then, suddenly with one specific flick of your tongue he loses it. 

His bucking only gets faster and more erratic, you feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat, and you gag, but you do your best to ignore it, and then finally.

You feel the warm feeling of his seed hit the back of your throat, and you swallow until he’s finished. 

His cock comes out of your mouth with a pop, a string of saliva connecting you to it, and you wipe your mouth with your forearm, looking up at Arthur.

“Jesus Christ woman...” “Can you name one good thing now?”

“Fuck yeah I can...” 

Please, I hope this is good, I’m literally so bad at writing smut tf, anyway, let me know! I hope this matches up to your expectations >:)

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