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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 18

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: We stan ✨women in science✨. Bruce uwu. Twitter social media AU nobody asked for. Stephen and Tony are dicks and I'm not talking about their anatomy. Setting up mood for Bruce smut, ngl. PTSD makes things spicy. I'm depressed so please be kind ✌🏻💀🙃

"I really do wonder how can you two fit those egos of yours in your pants," I kept my tone forcefully casual, cheerful even. "Why don't you just fuck already?"

I was met with stunned silence. Suddenly, the room seemed far too large and the people in much too quiet, staring at me with various expressions of horror obvious in their faces. As the strange friendship began developing between me and the team, my "outbursts" - how Steve liked to call them - lessened considerably. I had no need to provoke them into giving me attention, just striking up a casual chat was enough. The Avengers were great conversationalists, to my surprise.

Tony and Stephen, when paired, were the exception. I could count on one hand the amount of times they successfully came to a conclusion without fighting like cats and dogs. It was like each man had made it a personal mission to verbally top the other, more often than not resulting in a thirty-minute shitshow ending with one storming off in a dramatic flourish. It was mind-boggling how two supremely intelligent men could not find a way to communicate efficiently without infuriating the rest of the team.

Plus me. One way or another, I was almost always around. In the beginning, it was hilarious to see the free circus but it got old really quickly when they couldn't decide on dinner or a movie, leaving the rest of us starving and bored. Or the great Cloak debate - that one lasted days and the fussy thing was so upset, it point blank refused to part from Peter for a substantial amount of time. It's pretty fucking creepy that a semi-sentient, ancient piece of outerwear watches you when you sleep - just sayin'. I personally interjected with my own snark and sass whenever Tony and Stephen got too heated, successfully drawing the attention to myself. The fight broke up and I had amazing sex with Tony later, it was a win-win scenario.

Yet, Tony and Stephen didn't stop. To me, their way of "talking" (and I use that term loosely) looked a lot like unresolved sexual tension. Stephen frequently used his greater height to tower over Tony in a childish attempt to establish dominance; the engineer was no rookie and responded with extravagant peacocking such as "subtly" tapping the bracelet that hosted his nanotech suit or parading at dinner in a $30,000 custom made designer outfit. Because Tony could.

I was pleasantly surprised when Natasha started laughing at my remark. Full-blown, belly laugh. Those were rare, coming from the Widow, her usual mirth was quiet, sophisticated, just like her. Deadly (adorable). Bucky followed suit, snorting together with Clint and Loki.

Steve looked none too pleased with me. But then again, was he ever? "Doll, don't be rude."

"Brat," Bruce said at the same time, palming his face.

"People always call me a brat. And guess what, Steve?" I popped my hip, twirling a cotton candy pink coloured Dum-Dum between my fingers. "What can you do about it? Nothing," I shrugged, leaning my head against Bruce's shoulder affectionately.

Steve just shook his head in disappointment. "Can we get back on topic? Please?"

"Captain, I think that Stark..." Strange began talking with Tony dramatically groaning in the background and I instantly tuned out the useless babble. Steve should've been smarter and revoked speaking rights from Tony and Stephen. Or asked Loki to magically render them both mute for ten minutes.

"You're not wrong," Bruce quietly whispered next to my ear. "Ten bucks says Wanda meddles and those two finally work out their frustrations," The scientist hid a grin against my head. I felt the amused, giddy energy radiating off him like a plasma beam.

"I don't even have to bet," I rolled my eyes. "If she doesn't do it, I will."

Both Tony and Stephen were throwing me equally infuriated glances. One promised me a good, hard fucking and the other saw me a short, poisonous lecture on appropriate behaviour in the nearest future - you can guess which is which. If I had it my way, I'd skip the lecture and go straight to a hot, filthy threesome with two men twice my age. I wasn't blind, Strange was hot as hell and could be decent and even nice once in a blue moon.

He could, but he wouldn't be. I wanted that raw, unadulterated lust, tension so concentrated it walked the razor's edge between violent craving and repulsion. Ever since the incident with Clint, I had this ugly mess inside of me, like a live wire about to snap. My brain was constantly racing, darting between how utterly useless I am in a group of supers and embracing my normal-ness, amplifying it by hosting game nights and spending time trying to convince people to start a dungeons and dragons campaign. Or something.

My sleep was like Swiss cheese, riddled with holes where I stayed awake for one or two hours at a time in the middle of the night after waking up sweaty, with my heart hammering out of my chest. Sometimes I dreamt of Clint's lifeless, sickly white body, sometimes the whole room flooded with blood and I couldn't stop it no matter what, there was so much of it, I drowned in it, I startled up with the taste of it in my mouth. Rarely, the worst of it came - the one where Clint was alive as millions of millions of little fluorescent, poisonous jellyfish burst out of him and he screamed and screamed and screamed...

I had PTSD. Yay, me. As if my uselessness wasn't enough of a burden, my brain decided for me that it wasn't good enough that I saved Clint and now it was punishing me for being close to a group of people who routinely saved the WORLD.

I contemplated my usual habits - going to a party, getting trashed and dancing until my legs were numb. I just wanted to shut my brain off for a moment, give it a hard reset so-to-say, but with Tony on my back like a jet-pack, I didn't doubt he'd show up to the place and drag me out of there even if I was kicking and screaming. And he was a Stark, a billionaire, so visiting my dad in Cali wouldn't be possible on my own. Tony would gas up the jet and the rest of the team would find and excuse to tag along, too. As much as I loved being the baby menace who could get away with anything, I hated the way they all herded me, like I was an actual child. I couldn't get away from myself, not even for a moment.

I had the backup-backup plan and I was going to have to execute it. Desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't doubt y'all enjoy listening to Tony and Steph flirt," The nickname escaped unmoderated from my lips before I could catch myself. "But what are we doing for Halloween? I need to know if I gotta get a costume," Bruce chuckled next to me and wrapped an arm around me, happy for the distraction. Unlike me, the scientist was obligated to listen and participate in the avengers-themed discussion. Which was difficult because the engineer and the sorcerer constantly bickered, inadvertently taking over the talk.

"Halloween?" Steve groaned.

"We should do something," Bucky side-eyed his boyfriend. "For the children." Something told me he wasn't thinking of the children, at all. The man was positively leering, probably thinking about what kind of a tight suit he could convince Steve to squeeze into.

"A party!" Tony immediately exclaimed, interrupting Stephen mid-setence.

"Tony, no," Steve stated firmly.

"Tony, YES!" Clint perked up. "A snack bar. A bar-bar."

"I will not be helping you all if you get alcohol poisoning," Stephen crossed his arms.

"So it's a party," I stated firmly, throwing a contemplating look at Wanda and Pietro. The twins looked unsure but excited. I knew I could count on fellow young people to support my decision to have fun, dance a little, drink a little. Let loose. To nail my point, I turned to Bruce with a mischievous smirk. "Fifty bucks says Stephen is too stuck up to show up in costume."

"Beg pardon?!" The sorcerer exclaimed. His eyebrows threatened to meet his hairline.

"I think you give him too little credit, Princess," Bruce winked at me and we solemnly shook hands. It was great having a fellow partner in mischief. Loki's approving smirk just sealed the deal for me.

"It's not my fault you sometimes act like you have a stick up your butt," I gave in the way of explanation, shrugging my shoulders innocently in Stephen's direction. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"I don't dare to imagine what's been up yours," The sorcerer retorted dryly, in an uncharacteristically childish fashion, arms still crossed. It almost looked like he was pouting.

"Tony," I simply said, leering salaciously at the man.

"Ooh, kinky," Clint reached over and we promptly high-fived each other in the wake of multiple embarrassed groans emanating around the room. "Strange, you're a boring old man, get over it."

"And you regularly end up in dumpsters, Barton," Strange retorted quickly. "Not my idea of fun."

"You wouldn't know fun if it hit you in the face!" Tony grinned triumphantly, confident in his superiority over Strange. Look at that, the team was doing the work for me and I didn't even have to try.

"I'll show you fun," Stephen retorted darkly. It was obvious the man was planning something.

"Ok, boomer," I raised my eyebrows in muted satisfaction before turning around and grabbing Bruce to drag along with me. "I'm confiscating your best scientist to amuse myself. I am bored. We will go and do actual science whilst y'all argue. Bye."

My patience had run out. We were examining the parasites we found in the murder-anthropods-from-space, codename MAFS, courtesy of yours truly, and their amazing properties to penetrate cell membranes and feed on metals in organic life forms. Without Bruce's help I understood maybe half of it but he had the patience of a saint and dutifully and understandably explained to me the finer points of studying aliens. Signing half a dozen NDAs was never more worth it.

Steve's sigh consisted of 99% suffering and 2% disappointment. Natasha face-palmed silently in the corner, clutching a mug of coffee, a poster child for existential dread.

"Wait for me," Tony whined, going for the door and promptly being stopped by Steve pointing out the team needing his input on one mission or another. The engineer sighed. "Baby girl, don't let the green mean to start any experiments without me." Tony instructed, pointing an accusatory finger in our direction.

I clutched at Bruce dramatically, feigning hurt feelings and was rewarded with a swift motion of his arms. I shrieked delightfully at being thrown over the scientist's shoulder as he hastened his pace towards the elevator, hightailing it out of there. "I'd never snitch on science daddy," I wiggled my eyebrows in Tony's direction, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Bruce's pants, dangling over his shoulder like a happy sack of potatoes.

The lab smelled strongly of alcohol and bitter chemicals, the solution that Bruce developed to ensure the optimal state of the alien pathogens. The man's genius never ceased to amaze me: Bruce came up with the needed formula in the span of a few hours while running low on sleep, post a Hulk-out session.

We put on our protective gear - "science onesies" I called them - along with a respirator and goggles and set to the segregated part of the lab where the specimens were kept under a blue light. The glass wall between Bruce's and Tony's lab was dimmed; I reflected in it, looking positively futuristic in my double-stacked white platformed boots and white hazmat suit.

"Wait," I motioned to Bruce to come over.

"Oh, right, our music," He was already half-way to being in total Science Mode. "Friday, please put on the "Get Schwifty" playlist, 60% volume."

The playlist that me and Bruce came up with for our lab sessions. The man was such an adorable dork. Thirty percent my music, thirty percent of his indie rock shit and forty percent 00's bops. In other words, utter perfection.

I finally managed to fish out my phone from my pants. "No, let's take a selfie," I struck an impressive pose and pointed the camera as Avril Lavigne sung the first verse to Sk8r Boi.

Bruce laughed but abided by the request, giving me bunny ears in the photo, tapping the fingers of his other hand on my waist to the rhythm of the song.

"He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy!" I sang along, switching my Instagram to stories and posting the short clip of us just vibing with the caption #sciencetime, Bruce laughing openly behind his respirator. I looked cute and silly in my outfit.

"Send the video to me, I'll post it on my Twitter," Bruce requested. I indulged him then put my phone away, ready to conquer the world of microbiology. Or die trying. Science was calling...

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

#stephen strange x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #tony stark x y/n #stephen strange x you #bruce banner x you #tony stark x you #stephen strange x reader #bruce banner x reader #tony stark x reader #party favours #bun writes #avengers social media au

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kozutenshi · 3 years

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"Hand me the coconut pieces love." His hand reached out in front of you as you followed Osamu. You watched him learn the Filipino delicacy carefully, the recipe flashed on his phone screen.

He felt your arms circle around him and he laughed, turning around to look at you. "I can't cook if you're latched on me like this bub." Your reply was muffled as you buried yourself in him. "Why not?" His scent filled your nose, his heartbeat pacing rapidly in his chest.

"The cook needs a helper too, you know? You also have to prepare the ingredients."

"You can do it though."

"It's different when you're the one doing it."

"It makes me happy seeing you with me here in my happy place." His cheeky smile warmed you up as he let you go. He taps your cheek with his finger, muttering an almost inaudible "cute" before turning back to his work to hide his red face. You smiled, pleased with what he said, and resumed your own task.

"I'll stay here as long as you want me to, then."

He froze at your statement, growing even more flustered.

"As long as i want to?"

"Yep! as long as you want me here with you, i'll be here!"

He was probably overreacting but his heart seized, the tears welling up in his eyes as he smiles and continues his work.

TUPIG

— A delicacy commonly cooked in banana leaves though it differs per town.

— A treat served to friends, relatives and Christmas carolers to wish them well in the coming New Year and give their thanks.

— Traditionally popular around Christmas but can be served as snacks in a normal day. It can even be bought on food stalls at the side of the road.

— A pastry from diket(a soft & oily variety of rice used for native sweets) cooked in coconut milk, molasses and sesame seeds. They also sometimes put in actual pieces of coconut.

He reeked badly of alcohol.

Atsumu scrunched his nose on the smell, supporting his twin as he stumbled into their shared apartment. Osamu had never been this wasted, at least as of he knew. He considered calling for Kita or Suna, but they might as well be sleeping.

He was sloppy in cleaning up Osamu's mess, but at least his twin was better. He groaned in his sleep before softly snoring, making Atsumu regret that he placed his twin in his bed. His eyes stung from being woken up early, 5:34 am to be exact, with a phone call.

Not really knowing what to do now, he thought of you and what happened the past month.

It started with a simple "misunderstanding" that had been resolved probably way too quickly. Interning in a diner for his course, Atsumu thought that it would be nice to drop by with you one night, but arrived at the wrong time. Osamu, covered in a light sheen of sweat, had his hair messed up, a girl on top of him as he tried to push her off. It was obvious, and you knew that, but the image was burned in your mind.

Next were the nightmares. It wasn't too bad, but the image of him with another company pushed your buttons. It wasn't Osamu's fault. It was no one's fault. But your trust to other people had been lessened, and Atsumu found himself accompanying you every night at the diner. It benefitted him, as he learned more about you, and your relationship with Osamu, but he found his twin in a leash.

Osamu was being choked.

Atsumu had seen it, but as he found himself stopping the two of you from fighting, he knew he made a mistake of not doing anything beforehand.

Maybe getting a little booze really hits different sometimes.

He found you leaving the apartment immediately that night, tears overflowing just like Osamu, and it was too late.

He hadn't seen you ever since, and Osamu had finished his internship with an empty space in his heart.

Maybe it would be so much easier if you were here.

Atsumu was no fool. He knew that his twin loved you enough to give everything he had for you. His finger found himself tapping your number in his screen, the call button open for him to press, until he found himself looking at another face.

"'Samu! Don't scare me like that!"

"You're terrified of my face?"

"Yes!"

"... We share the same face."

"Well not now! You look so dead."

He sighed as he tried to push Osamu to his own room but his twin didn't budge. Instead, his gray-haired twin looks away and tugged his wrist to catch his attention. "'Tsumu, am i going to lose her?"

He felt himself break. How was he supposed to know? It was your relationship. He was just an onlooker. He ruffled his twin's hair, gazing at him sadly. "How am I supposed to know? I'm the idiot here." It made his twin chuckle and lean on his shoulder. "Damn right."

"You're supposed to say I'm not, stupid."

"Oh.. but I don't want to lie."

"On second thought, I hate you."

A few minutes later, Osamu had gone to sleep and Atsumu dialed your number.

The call was unexpected, making you even more nervous as you arrived at a familiar doorstep hours later. Has anything changed since you last came here? Shame flooded you, and you found yourself teary-eyed as you knocked on their door.

"Good morning 'Tsumu."

His smile and embrace was warm as he welcomed you into their flat. "Good morning n/n!" His face fell as he detached himself from you with a pout when you didn't respond to his hug. "Damn, don't act so cold around me please. I ain't yer ex here." You chuckled at his pettiness. "I'm just not sure how to act." Nodding, he muttered a small "understandable." before putting his essentials in his bag.

Looking around, the place looks tidied up but there was something missing. Despite the enchanting feel of the kitchen with the sun shining brightly through the window, it felt empty.

"He hasn't used the kitchen for a month, if you're wondering." You gulped down the guilt as you looked over to the sound of Atsumu's keys. "I'm heading out for practice. Thank you for this, n/n." You nodded and got to cooking, carefully handling everything to not create unnecessary noise.

He groggily made his way to the smell of food, wondering if Atsumu finally decided to learn how to cook properly.

Only to find you, sleeping peacefully, your head on the kitchen counter.

With all his remaining strength, he tried to lift you, only for you to wake up. "You're awake." He looks down at you in his arms before looking away. You rubbed your eyes as you easily moved out of his reach, the disappearance of your comforting warmth making him deflate. The sound of utensils and the soup being poured filled the tense atmosphere of the kitchen, none of you knowing what to say.

"Why—"

The two of you locked eyes briefly before you placed the soup and decided to distract yourself through looking down and fidgeting with your fingers. He notes the gesture mentally, before he sighed. "You go first."

"Why are you sick?"

"I went drinking with some classmates. Why are you here?"

"Atsumu had to go out and he called me here. Why did you go home so late?"

"Well, if I'm honest, I don't remember. I just know I blacked out and then the place was closing so.. I think you get it. Why are you asking?"

"Just.. curious."

Just like that, the atmosphere went back to being awkward as he silently sipped some of the soup. He had a satisfied look on his face, making your face warm. "I- Is the soup good?" He smiled at you and nodded, the shine in his eyes evident. "Better than before." You both froze at his comment as he turned away. "Sorry that wasn't.." He knew he couldn't take back the words. He found his eyes straying back to your hand slowly, hesitantly, reaching for his. He mindlessly took it under his palm, his heat slightly stinging your hands. "You're still too warm."

"Maybe I need a little bit more TLC."

"Yeah. Maybe-"

Your heartbeat pounded loudly as you realized what he was talking about but he was already laughing at your slip. "You really fell for it." Out of embarrassment, you withdrew your hand from his, fidgeting. "It's not funny." Your angry pout only made him laugh even more, tapping your cheek before wheezing a small "cute" in between his laughter.

Somehow it felt familiar as you also started smiling at the sight. It made him stop, drawing near your face. "I finally made you smile." Your face warmed even more as he pecked your lips. "Oh wait. I'm sick. Sorry."

You still haven't processed what he did when he stood up and carried his bowl to the sink, the said ill person about to wash it.

"Wait. I'll do it."

"Nah. I can do it."

"I know but.. I want to make it up to you."

He froze at your statement before chuckling. "What do you mean?"

"I messed up on our last fight. And I didn't notice it. So I wanna make it up to you."

"Isn't it.. Isn't it both our fault?"

"... I mean.. but.."

"Exactly. You cooked today so I'm cleaning the dishes."

He proceeded into cleaning them, humming under his breath. You only looked at his broad back, the muscles slightly moving under his shirt and the apron is tied loosely around his waist.

Like the other times the two of you shared the kitchen, your safe space.

Before you know it, your hands were around him, making him freeze like a statue. "I'm sorry." And though what you did was probably one of the most toxic things you can do, you found yourself being pressed close to his chest as he faced you, a fond smile on his face. "I'm sorry too, love."

"Let's cook tupig together when I'm not sick anymore, yeah?"

You squeezed him as you nodded, making him laugh at the gesture but returning it.

FARERS: @akasuns @doodleniella @kenmakodzu @lyzzklm @mfcassandra @oikaw-ugh @seijohlogy @thesecondapplepienation

happy new year to all of you reading this kith xx

#osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #miya osamu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya twins #haikyuu osamu miya #haikyuu osamu #osamu x reader #osamu imagine #osamu headcanons #osamu hcs #⎙—files!

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cats-art-and-dinosaurs · 3 years

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Hello @annwritesallday I was your secret cupid for @rdr-secret-cupid :)

I apologise for the delay, my health kinda let me down and thus, I lost a lot of time.

I'm also more used to drawing, but your requests leaned more towards writing soooo... a chance to try something new, I guess? :)

English also isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes!

Characters: Charles Smith, Arthur Morgan

Themes: Friendship, Emotional Comfort I guess?

Warnings: Hints at animal cruelty, emotional abuse and not so healthy drinking behavior

Summary: Arthur drinks a bit too much and tells Charles about his feelings (friendship)

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The sun had set hours ago at Clemens Point and by now, the lake was full of stars. It was a warm night, and in Charles opinion much more pleasent than the suffocating humid heat that lay over them during the days in this area.

He let out a sigh of relief as he sat down near the shore of the lake at the edge of camp. Drunken laughter and cheerful voices swept over to him, but they were dulled by the calm water in front of him.

Hosea had pulled of some kind of small scam today and had returned to camp with a crate of beer and a big smile on his face. One thing led to another and soon the overall interest in work and chores around camp had significantly lessened and rather turned towards storytelling, joking and singing.

And so, not much work got done that day, and though Charles did take over some of the other's chores, there was still plenty to do. But that had to wait until tomorrow. It had been a long day and he was glad to finally have a quiet moment for himself.

He had considered joining Kieran at the scout fire, but the latter had also been doing more work around camp today than usual and not being the most outgoing person, he was probably grateful to have some time alone.

And so Charles had found himself this little spot at the shore, but after a few minutes, he heard footsteps approaching him.

The person stumbled a few times, clearly having had a bit too much whiskey, but Charles still recognized the man without having to turn around.

"Arthur."

"Hello Charles", Arthur greeted him and giggled as he struggled to keep his balance while trying to sit down next to him.

Arthur hadn't been around camp for the past few days and had just come back this afternoon, a frown on his face and a distant look in his eyes. Something had definetly been on his mind and Charles wondered if Arthur had tried to wash it away with the alcohol. He hoped he was wrong.

His thoughts were interupted by Arthur's slighty slurred voice.

"Really nice. The lake, it's... is really nice. It's... so much calm water. I like it. I feel..."

There was a shift in his voice and he paused.

Charles turned his head to look at Arthur, trying to figure out what was bothering him. But Arthur didn't even seem to know himself as he gestured with his hands, triyng to find the right words, which appearently was made more difficult by the alcohol in his veins.

"I... I just... feel awful."

It was a miserabel sight, really. Usually Arthur was well aware of the intimidating effect his size and appearance could have on others. He didn't even have to do much, just stand tall, maybe cross his arms and put on a mean face.

But the man who now sat next to Charles on the dirty ground was nothing like that. He was slumped over, suddenly appearing much smaller than he actually was, not even trying to hide the emotions displayed on his face.

"Why? Arthur, did something happen?"

"Well, yeah... I think, I... There was this man and his - his horse... he said it died and he asked me to give him a ride."

Arthur paused for a moment, letting out a defeated sigh, "I wanted to help him but it was a stupid... stupid trap an' he'd killed the horse himself to make it look real and... and I jus' wanted to help."

He stopped once again, but this time, a small sob escaped Arthur. And Charles was glad the other man had to pause, as he himself also needed a moment to let it sink in.

It seemed so small and insignificant compared to other acts of violence he had witnessed over the years, and maybe that was why it wasn't easy to understand. Killing a horse so you had the element of surprise while attempting to rob someone, not even knowing if they had any money at all? It didn't make sense.

Next to him, Arthur was failing to keep his tears in check, so Charles carefully put his hand on his shoulder.

Arthur's body tensed up for a moment and Charles felt a wave of disappointment rush through him, afraid that now Arthur would turn away and never open up to him ever again.

But after a few seconds, Arthur relaxed and continued to talk, "I thought I knew what I was doing. Jus' wanted to do something right, as in... do the right thing. And I don't know why it's so... so hard for me."

No matter how tough and dense Arthur sometimes acted, Charles knew there was more to him. He wasn't quite sure yet what exactly, but people were complicated after all. However, some seemed to be more complicated than others. And seeing Arthur so hurt and confused? Somehow, it confused Charles too.

Arthur sniffed and finally turned his gaze to the younger outlaw, "It's so easy for you and I just... don't even understand what's right and what's wrong. Always have to think about it. I think I'm jealous... because you just... you just do what's right without wondering what the right thing is. And I don't even know what's right. I don't even know why I don't know. No idea what I'm doing. I just - "

"Arthur, stop that."

"What?"

"Talking like that. It's nonsense."

While Arthur had been rambling on, Charles had recognized one of the emotions that was growing stronger within him right now. With every single word Arthur got out with shaky breaths, his anger grew. It wasn't directed at Arthur, but rather at the situation. And he had to do something about it.

Arthur didn't try to back away, his eyes were fixed on his face, probably stunned by his sudden change of tone.

With his hand still firmly on Arthur's shoulder, Charles continued, "I don't know where you're getting these ideas from, but it's not true."

"I..."

"Arthur, I know you've probably had one or two beer too many. But don't think I didn't notice that you're always putting yourself down, wether you're sober or not."

Arthur blinked a few times, looking almost offended, "I'm not drunk, just..."

"Just a little bit drunk, I know", a small smile escaped him at Arthur's blatant lie and his tone softened, "Can you just... listen to me for a moment?"

Arthur still looked somewhat unsure, but still gave him an hesitant nod.

"I don't always know what's right. And if there's someone who claims they always do, they're lying. And whoever put those ideas in your head is also a liar."

There was a flash of realization in the teary eyes of the older outlaw and he slowly turned his head away. Someone had obviously come to Arthur's mind.

Charles had a feeling who it was and maybe Arthur was even thinking of more than one person.

But whatever the case was, given Arthur's reaction, Charles had definetly hit a nerve.

Now that he had, Charles almost felt a bit guilty. Almost.

He pushed those feelings away and instead focused on Arthur again, gesturing towards the camp behind them with his free hand, "Look, all those people... The girls all had their share of... bad experiences, and they trust you. They're not naïve."

"I would never-"

"No, of course not, because you know it's wrong and given your reaction, you never even thought of it in the first place."

Arthur shook his head, a grossed out expression all over his face.

"I've seen the way you laugh together. They care about you", Charles paused at the disbelieving look Arthur gave him and rolled his eyes in response, "Don't look at me like that, they DO. You're like... this grumpy, big brother. If you don't belive me, I'll go and get them to come over so they can tell you yourself. You want me to do that?"

It was an attempt at humor, but it completly went over Arthur's head, "No, I don't want them to see me like... well..."

He tried to wipe the tears from his face, but his red eyes and nose were not easy to miss, even though the only source of light were the fires and lanterns from the nearby camp and the moon in the night sky above them.

Charles moved his hand from Arthur's shoulder to his back, carefully patting him as the other man continued to rub at his face, "It's okay Arthur. It's alright. Nothing wrong with having emotions."

He could have sworn to have heard a soft laugh from Arthur at that, and as he looked a bit closer, there actually seemed to be a genuine smile on his face.

"I mean it. There are people who go through life and don't seem to think about how what they're doing affects others at all. Like that guy who killed his horse. And even if they do, I doubt they care to much. But you obviously do care. That's a good thing."

"But?"

"But please... stop comparing yourself to me as if I'd know everything and never make mistakes. You have to think and decide for yourself."

"Hosea told me the same", there was a smile in Arthu's voice now and this time, it was mirrored by his face. Charles returned the smile, but raised his eyebrows in a manner of faked disbelief.

Arthur laughed at that and raised his finger in a scolding gesture, "Oh don't you look at me that. I'm afraid I'm not drunk enough to forget about this conversation once I'm sober again... I'm sorry, I... I guess the drink loosened the tongue... damn..."

"Well, I sure am glad it did. Someone had to... well, at least try to talk some sense into you."

But Arthur didn't respond to the teasing this time, and instead seemed to struggle to find the right words once again.

"I'm...", Arthur paused, then laid his hand on Charle's shoulder the same way the younger outlaw had done before, "Thank you. For... this, for beeing honest and... listening and... For beeing my friend."

Charles nodded, glad that he appearently had gotten through some of the self-doubt that occupied Arthur's mind.

"Charles, if... if there's ever something you'd like to talk about... I care about you, too. And if you need to talk, I'll be there too, okay?"

"I know."

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