#they deserve more attention as well as silly little butcher guy

[carnivill]

ARMOR POWER!!!

#fullmetal alchemist #fma #alphonse elric #barry the chopper #slicer brothers #man i really need to draw more slicer bros in the future #they deserve more attention as well as silly little butcher guy

[mrs-cavill-wife]

Safe And Happy (One Shot)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader (Barbara)

Warning: Language. Fluff. Minor Injury. Zombie Apocalypse. Gun shot. Persecution. Please, say if I miss something.

Author's Note: My second fanfic, YAY! Henry is not a celebrity in this fanfic. Duh! It's a zombie apocalypse so it's kinda obvious but I wanted to say it anyway. Hope you guys enjoy it and reblog if you do. I'm all ears to feedback!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Summary: The world is a dangerous place now, but in the arms of the man she loves, she always finds security.

Barbara's P.O.V

Shit. I miss when the world used to be good. It was never perfect but no doubt it were way better than now.

An zombie apocalypse, who could have imagined that this could actually happen? Who knew that one day I would be armed, with a "beautiful" wound on my leg, hiding in an abandoned store, running away from a horde of about fifty zombies, crazy and thirsty for some human flesh.

I got hurt entering here, there was a piece of wood that grazed my leg, but luckily I had some bandage on the bag, I tied it to my leg to stop the blood. I looked at my leg and sighed, frustrated with myself.

"What the fuck dressing did you do, huh? My man is going to be pissed"

I live with my boyfriend, well husband, wasn't exactly official but we are together, he's amazing with dressings, but of course, I never pay attention when he tried to explain it to me. I'm hiding, trying to calm my breathing and think of a new plan, I don't know if I'll be able to run with my leg like that, but I think partially, it's really my fault. I'm often on those situations, I have my skills but I might not be the best, I still remember when I meet my boyfriend, on this type of shit cliche situation, today I don't complain for being dumb back there..

We met a year ago, I was running away.. again. I remember going into a dead end street, my gun had only two bullets left, I managed to kill some of those brain eaters, but I had about ten still behind me. I was already out of breath and couldn't think of anything else.

It was all very fast, suddenly my hero appeared, super skilled, I can't say where he came from but he managed to cut the heads of some of them, cut one in half, he stopped in front of me and fired with a super powerful machine gun, spilling a little blood and a disgusting substance on both of us.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

He spoke to me after all those butchers fell dead. I was in shock but in seconds, I regained consciousness and was able to notice the man in front of me.

Broad back, fair skin, incredibly neat curly hair, a sharp jawline that could cut my soul, kissable lips.. a beautiful ax, a weapons in the waistband and at least two powerful shotguns in the back. The sun was setting and the light reflected in his eyes. The brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. There was a small brown part in one of them, I had heard about cases of heterochromia, but it was the first time that I saw it right in front of me.

"Your eyes are so beautiful.."

He laughed softly and a little shy. The sweetest laugh I've heard. Oh God, he's so wonderful, I think I died and went to heaven and that angel came to receive me. Maybe I'm not too unlucky after all.. wait, what did I just said? Oh fuck, what a good way of cause a first impression. First you almost die then act like a dumb ass needy teen. I rolled my eyes realizing what I done and he touched my arm.

"Thank you, you're beautiful too.. but are you hurt? What are you doing all by yourself?"

I nodded looking down and blushing red like a tomato.

"Huh I'm fine. I was searching for a place to stay. I heard on radio there was a small group of survivors around here. I'm always alone, so I decided to look for it but I obviously didn't payed attention on the munition I had before risking my butt."

He giggled and soft touched my cheek, wiping away some of the dirty. Gosh, I'm not going to handle and he's not making it easy..

"So it's your lucky day, pretty girl. I am from that group of survivors. They always told me to go round and look for possible new survivors."

I looked at him frowning.

"Now it's my time to ask. All by yourself? Why?"

And he smirked, looking like a made a silly question. Your hot bastard.

"I'm a prepared person. Not bragging but I always check my munition"

Touchee. I crossed my arms looking at him, trying to keep my posture but I was really melting inside.

We heard a loud noise, making us concerned. He grabbed my hand and started walking.

"It doesn't seem far, we must walk. Let's go"

"Where are you taking me? I.. I don't even know your name?"

I stopped moving and he stopped looking a little mad then he sighed.

"I will take you to our shelter. I saved you, you can trust me. We both need a bath and some rest.. and I'm Henry."

He said smiling and I nodded starting to walk by his side.

That day, he took me to the survivors. There were at least four people, some couples and children, all of whom welcomed me very well. But despite that, I thought about leaving the next day, I was always alone and until then, it was how I wanted to be and I would be like this today, if Henry hadn't insisted that I stay. I said I would stay for some days but during that, he convinced me to stay for more weeks and when I realized, we were closer than ever. Actually, those days made me found love. One of the guys of the shelter was a priest before the world was destroyed, Henry and I decided to get married and so it happened. Simple but a beautiful ceremony.

After a few years, we both decided to leave, maybe it was not a smart idea in the current situation, but we were certain of it, so we did. It was difficult, at first from hiding to hiding, sleeping on uncomfortable places, sometimes without enough food for both, we almost died a few times but together, yes, we were unbeatable. But finally, we got a place, safe enough to call home.

Henry's P.O.V

One hour left. I trust her, she's a little clumsy but my girl knows what to do, I taught her some tricks when we met but still, my heart is desperate. Today I received a radio message, it was Stuart, a partner, we have known each other since I was part of a group of survivors, he provided us with food, ammunition and weapons from time to time, even now that I am no longer part of the group, he's a great friend. I always went to get it, alone, I didn't want to risk seeing my Barbara hurt. But today, Stuart said he couldn't come, because of some injuries, so I would have to go, but Barbara decided that her chance to do it this time.

"Barbara.. baby, you don't have to.."

I remember I said trying don't sound like I was doubting her capacities.

"Well on my mind, I do need. You always do that, I feel useless, I'm no princess in danger, i can do that"

I got closer touching her back while she packed her bag with "travel" supplies. She looked at me, touched my face and smiled. I love this smile.

"I'll be alright, I know that area is dangerous but you know I know the way and I had a good survivor teacher"

She said and wrapped her arms around my neck and I hugged her feeling defeated. She never had to say much to convince me of anything. I know she was feeling bad about me doing the hard work and I think she deserves a chance. I need to show I really trust her.

"I will be counting the seconds.."

I sighed and she smiled widely packing my lips many times. She grabbed her bag, her gun and went through the door but before leaving she looked at me one last time.

"I love you"

We both said at same time, making our hearts beat at same rhythm.

She gonna be alright, I know.. at least I hope.

Barbara's P.O.V

I heard a small noise that made me wake up. I dozed off for a while when I expected the horde to calm down and preferably leave. I got up and checked outside by one of the windows. Empty. Thank God. My leg didn't hurt so much anymore, but the fact that the street was clean was a relief to m. I wouldn't have to run, just be careful.

I opened my bag and ate a chocolate bar. Stuart wasn't lying when he said that had good things this time, I got things I hadn't ete in years. I left the store quickly after eating and started walking my way back home.

I was almost closer, I smiled seeing my home. Finally, safe house. when I got on the home's street, had three zombies, between me and my house. Great.

I tried to carefully pass behind them, I was almost there, but again, I didn't pay enough attention, I tripped over something and fell to the floor, over my injured leg, I couldn't contain the scream. They heard and were already walking towards me. F U C K M E.

I looked at my house. It's not so far, I can do it. I ran, fast as I could, my leg was hurting a lot, the bandage already red with my blood but I did it. I could climb the special secret passage through the wall and done. I layed in the grass for a second trying to recover my breath, closing my eyes, finally feeling safe then something fell on top of me. I got scared until I could open my eyes. A beast. A fluffy beast.

"Hey Kal, you scared me baby"

I hugged the big black and white American Akita. It's mine and Henry's dog, our loyal companion, our dog son. We found him on our away to find a new safe place, he were a little injured on the front paws. Of course we felt in love with him and took care of him, we had to keep him and we did.

I petted him a little more before getting up.

"Alright, mommy needs a good break now. Promise to play later. Where's daddy? He had a heart attack?"

Oh he will when see my situation. I walked to inside our house and pulled the food supplies on the kitchen. I was focused until I hear the shower on bathroom upstairs. I smiled.

"What a good way of relax, huh?"

I walked upstairs, taking off my clothes though the way. When I opened the bathrooms door, I was fully naked. Oh that vision. My man, all naked.. that furry defined abs, those strong muscles.. that round booty.. and that big veiny dick, shit, even soft he's huge.. I'm so freaking lucky.

I licked my lips and tried to close the door softly but i ended up making noises.

"Thought I had told you need to be stealthy"

When I turned around, he was looking at me, with those gorgeous eyes that left me speachless since first time. Then he's face changed to worried and I realized he were looking at my wounded leg.

"Barbara, what the fuck just happened?"

I rolled my eyes then got into the shower with him. Before he could say something, I kissed him softly. He kissed me back of some type of way that I could feel how worried he were. Was a intense kiss, our tongues battling against each other, oxygen wasn't this necessary for us at this point. He quickly grabbed me tight and gave me a little boost then I had my legs wrapped around his waist. We ended our kisses with soft pecks and smiles. I looked at him. He had one hand around my back and another softly rubbing closer my wound.

"Hey are you alright, princess?"

I smiled way more with his soft voice and nodded.

"Yes, now I'm safe and happy"

#henry cavill one shot #henrycavill rp #henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you

[yeet-or-be-hawed]

“Lost and Found” Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fluff

This was another request for @shewalksinanotherworld! Thank you guys for being so patient with me, I’ve had major writer’s block the last few days but now I’m back full swing! 

After getting separated from the gang, the reader has to learn to fend for themselves and survive on their own. Arthur thought you had died in a shootout, so boy was he in for a surprise when he sees a familiar horse in Rhodes!

You cursed the sun as you rode into Rhodes, the air was dry and hot and the dust caked your lungs. You were used to living it rough, but you were used to living it rough with others. Since you got separated from your gang, it’s been nothing but hardships one after the other. You tried so hard not to blame the others. You tried not to let it harden your heart. You tried to tell yourself there was a good reason they didn’t come back for you, or even attempt to send you a letter. Unfortunately you could only try for so long and being left alone with your own thoughts only made it easier for you to abandon hope and replace with with anger. How dare they just leave you behind like that? How dare they never even try to let you know their location? Something always nagged at you in the back of your head, told you you weren’t special and no one cared. It’s why your mama and daddy left you in the streets to starve. It’s why the orphanage was more than willing to throw you out on the streets when they became too overpopulated. And it’s why the people you came to call family picked up and left you without a trace. It didn’t bother you though, you told yourself. You came to terms with the fact you would be alone forever long ago. 

You dismounted your horse in front of the butcher. 

“Ah, hello young lady. You must be new to these parts, I ain’t seen you before!”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I been sellin’ to you the last three months, Eddie.”

the man became flustered and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.” You said flatly as you u loaded your hunt onto the butcher’s table.

An awkward silence fell between you as he handed you your cash. After you collected, you headed over to the saloon. It didn’t take you long to spend the money you had just received on whiskey and fried catfish.

“...suspicious lookin’ group down by the lake.”

“Saw one of em ridin’ through town yesterday, looked like a mean son of a bitch. Best leave em be till they move on.” 

The conversation faded out as the two men left the saloon. You made a mental note to keep your eyes peeled, just in case they were bounty hunters. There seemed to be more and more damned flesh hunters every year. You waved to the bartender, “One more down here good sir.”

“Comin’ right up!”

He placed the shot in front of you and you knocked it back easily. “You reckon that group them men was talkin’ bout were bounty hunters?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow at you suspiciously. “Nah, I don’t reckon so. The men and some of the women like to come into town every now and again. One of ‘em actually asked me about bounty hunters the first time he came in though. Seem like a nice crowd, said the factory they all worked for up North shut down. ”

You nodded. “Thanks.” You placed a tip on the table and turned out the door. As you headed towards the sheriff’s office, you lowered your hat over your face and pulled your hair out of its normal braid. “Afternoon.” You said plainly to the man sitting in behind the desk. 

“Mornin’.” The man slurred. You rolled your eyes, this sheriff was no more a threat than the hound dog sniffing around the saloon.

Your eyes studied the board of bounty posters. Your own was there and you grabbed it quickly. You’d have to remember to burn it later. When you removed it, something grabbed your eye. There were layers of bounty posters on the cork board, and sticking out two layers behind you could see AR for the first name and M for the last name. 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” You whispered as you pulled out the wanted poster. There he was, a ghost from your past. “WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE. ARTHUR MORGAN, LAST SEEN IN VALENTINE. ASSOCIATES ALSO WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: DUTCH VAN DER LINDE, HOSEA MATTHEWS, JOHN MARSTON, MICAH BELL. ANY ACCOMPANYING PERSONS WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR AIDING AND ABETTING.”

He looked handsome as ever, even in some shitty drawing. Your first thought was, Arthur could’ve drawn himself so much better. Your second thought was, burn in hell, Morgan. You crumpled up the wanted poster in your hand and stuffed it in your bag. You had half a mind to leave it up, fuck all of them, they could rot for all you cared. They left you, he left you. 

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Arthur’s betrayal (or what you considered betrayal) cut you deeper than any of the rest. He was your closest friend in the Van Der Linde Gang, and even though you would never say it, you were hoping to make things more intimate between you two, and sometimes you felt like Arthur wanted the same. But that was a long time ago, before they up and left you in Blackwater. No food, no shelter, they even took your tent. All you had was the clothes on your body and the supplies you had on your horse. Arthur never once sent you a letter; you went to the post office every day, sometimes multiple times a day, hoping for a letter from Tacitus Killgore but it never came. You kept your old alias at the post just in case. That was what burned you the deepest. There were so many opportunities to reach out, and none of them did, not even Arthur. 

You decided you would burn his bounty poster along with yours. If any of the others had bounty posters, they could deal with it on their own. Maybe one day Arthur will know your pain of having hisfamily uprooted and left on his own without a trace. You decided that would be a worse fate than being found by bountymen.

You felt tired as you mounted your horse, as if your body was being dragged down by weights. You sighed heavily and gave him a pat. “Come on boy, lets get back home.” With a dig of spurs, the horse sped down the trail. 

Arthur cackled as Sadie read off Pearon’s letter in her best impersonation of him as they pulled off the slim trail from Clemen’s Point onto the main road leading into Rhodes. As he pulled out, a horse flew by them like a bullet. Long hair trailed behind the rider’s head and time stood still. He was almost certain that was who he thought it was, but that was impossible. Dutch said she died in the shootout at Blackwater. His eyes followed horse until it disappeared. All in all no more than ten seconds had passed but to Arthur it seemed like he watched that horse for hours. 

“Well, come on then let’s go!” Sadie said impatiently. 

Arthur sighed and gave the reins a pull. He was in a daze of his own thoughts the rest of the day and for the first time in months, your ghost returned to him in his dreams that night.

Arthur brought the brim of his hat farther over his eyes as he walked down the steps of the gun shop. He could tolerate most anything, but this dry dusty air was getting real old real quick. He gave his horse a good pat and a carrot, she deserved it. The horses around camp deserved more praise than what they got, or atleast Arthur seemed to think so. It must be just as hard on them all this moving as it is for everyone else. “Yer a good ol girl.” He cooed softly. He mounted effortlessly and took a slow pace down the main street of Rhodes. He wanted to whip the reins and tear through the middle of the street like a hell on a horse, but as a badged deputy, he had to maintain a low profile. Hosea and Dutch thought it was silly how serious he took it, he figured he was just doing his best to keep cover.

The horse caught his attention, an Appaloosa with a Leopard coat. It was so dirty, he could hardly distinguish the spots from the mud. Your hair was the next thing he saw. Big and poofy, no doubt from the humidity. When you turned, his heart stopped. “It’s you.” He said breathlessly.

You didn’t even hear anyone approach. When you turned to mount your horse, there he was. He was standing so the afternoon sun sent sunbeams dancing around him making him look like a blessing, but it felt like a curse. He looked too well, a new olive colored vest with golden accents hugged his chest and a crisp white shirt, so new it hadn’t developed sweat stains. His sleeves were rolled up as usual, you remembered him mentioning he hated how restricting full sleeves felt. You remembered secretly admiring the muscular arms he would leave exposed. He seemed a little beefier than you remembered and his beard was longer. You hated him for looking so good.

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” He said softly before pulling himself off his horse. He approached with a big grin, that bastard. He was met with a swift slap to the face.

The shock from your slap rippled throughout his entire body. Of all the reactions, this was the last one he expected. He rubbed the spot where you hit him. “What the hell was that for?” He hissed.

“That was for leaving me!” You half yelled. A couple people were already staring but you didn’t care. “I go hunting for a day and I come back to nothing. No letter, no explanation, no tent! You took my tent for Christ’s sake! I gave my all to you, to everyone and that’s how I’m repaid. Left for dead with nothing but the clothes on my back.” Arthur blinked. You were seething with anger, but your eyes were welling with tears. “You left me behind.” Your voice was suddenly soft and you looked at the ground. Arthur saw the tears fall into the dust. “You left me to die and didn’t even care.”

Arthur stammered, he had no idea what to say. “Dutch said-“

“What did Dutch say? I’m sure it sounded very heroic and made the decision very easy.”

“Dutch said you were dead!” Arthur finally snapped. “He told me you died in that shootout. I grieved over you, I cried for you.” His voice shook with emotion. He grabbed your wrist tight and when you looked him in the eyes, the raw intensity behind them scared you. “Had I thought there would’ve been the slimmest chance you were still alive, I would’ve fought to my last breath to find you.”

Arthur said more than he meant to say in a rush of overwhelming emotions and it took him aback when you looked at him with confusion. “What shootout?”

“Scuse me?”

“What shootout? Why did Dutch say I died?” You looked him dead in the eye and a pit formed in his stomach.

“I...I don’t know.” His grip around your wrists loosened as his eyes darted to and from your face. “Me and Hosea was plannin’ a job, but Micah and Dutch swore by this ferry job they was stakin’ out. I wasn’t with them, but somethin’ went south and the law showed up quick. We had to move out so fast we left everything expect the caravans and the horses. All that money, all my things, and I ain’t sure we can ever get back.”

You sighed. “I understand, that’s a lot to go through, but you didn’t think to try to reach out to me, even once? I been at the post office damn near every day waiting for something, anything from you!”

Arthur gave you a thin glare, “well I don’t remember gettin’ a letter from you, what’s yer excuse?”

You sputtered, it honestly hadn’t occurred to you. “I...well I was- you always tell us to be so careful! How was I supposed to know if Tacitus Killgore was still safe?”

He crossed his arms, he knew you well enough to know when you had been had. “And how was I supposed to know Marisol Fletcher was still safe?”

You huffed in frustration and refused to look him in the eye. “Yeah well, fair enough. That still don’t change the question: why did Dutch say I died in a gun fight I wasn’t even involved in?”

Arthur went quiet. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding. Dutch would never leave a gang member behind if he could help it. And what was the point in lying? To keep Arthur from returning to Blackwater for you? There had to be some reason for lying.

You took Arthur’s silence as an answer. It was apparent to you that even though you were alive, Dutch made it clear you weren’t apart of the gang any more. You cleared your throat and grabbed your horse’s reins. “It’s gettin’ late, I need to get back to camp.”

Arthur straightened up and whistled for his horse, she had a bad habit of wandering away. “C’mon, you can follow me. We ain’t too far from here.”

You shook your head as you mounted. “I mean my camp. I ain’t goin’ back, Arthur. I am very... happy to know you’re alive and okay, but Dutch has made up his mind. I’m dead to the gang now, I’m on my own.”

“That’s not-“

“But it is.” You looked over the horizon. “Come with me.”

“What?”

You were certain he heard you. You sighed, “never mind. That was a silly request, you’re as loyal as they come Arthur Morgan. Write me when you can, and I’ll always respond. Until then, Mr. Morgan.” With a snap of the reins, heavy hooves sent up a cloud of dust.

Arthur couldn’t decide if he was relieved or frightened by the sight of you today. His thoughts were in a whirlwind as he rode back to camp. Nothing about this made sense, nothing at all.

“Who’s there?” Bill called.

“Arthur, dumbass.” He rolled his eyes, who the hell else would it be? He didn’t even hitch his Arabian before jumping off and making a beeline for Dutch’s tent.

Dutch was sat on a crate just outside his tent puffing a cigar. He lifted a brow in Arthur’s direction as he approached. Dutch let out a thick puff of smoke and smiled, “Good afternoon, Arthur.”

Arthur tipped his hat, “Dutch.” He took a seat beside the older man and cleared his throat. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Ditched eyed Arthur uneasily, “sure son, what’s on your mind.”

“You remember the shootout in Blackwater?”

“Course I do.”

“Who all died? In the shootout I mean.”

“Ahhh...let’s see.” Dutch sat back and tilted his head up, Arthur thought he looked a bit theatrical. “Ol Davey was shot, but he died up in the mountains. Jenny got caught in the fire, the Calander boys, and Y/N was there too.”

“I thought she went out huntin’ that day.”

Dutch cleared his throat. “She did, she did. Returned in the middle of the chaos, her and that pretty horse a hers got shot I believe.”

There was a false note in his voice it was very faint, so faint had Arthur not been face to face with you just a coupla hours ago, he may not have caught it. His eyes slowly came up and met Dutch’s. “That’s strange.” He said slowly. “Because I just ran into her in Rhodes.”

Dutch’s cigar nearly fell out of his mouth as he stuttered and stumbled on his words. “That- I-.... are ya sure it was her?” His voice was steady, but Arthur could see the quick flare of panic in Dutch’s eye.

He crossed his arms and nodded. “Sure as the sun is high. Stopped and talked to her. She seemed quite upset we left her behind.” He laughed nervously and rubbed his cheek. “My cheek still stings from where she slapped me.” He paused and his tone was serious. “Did you see her and her horse get shot?”

Arthur could see the cogs moving in Dutch’s head. “No, I... I didn’t.”

“Then why? Why leave her there? Damn it Dutch we took everything she had with us! She coulda died!”

“What’s important is she’s alive now!” Dutch said hastily. “Did she have the money from Blackwater?”

“No. She said all she had was the clothes on her back and the supplies on her horse.”

Dutch’s eyes went dark as he stared off in space. “We don’t know that.” He said slowly then rose to his feet. “She coulda snuck back and stole everything we had waiting for us. Does she know where we are now?”

The look in Dutch’s eye was fierce, Arthur averted his gaze. “No, I offered to bring her back but she wouldn’t come.”

“Good.” Dutch nodded and paced. “We don’t need her comin’ back here and stealin’ the rest of what we got.”

“Come on Dutch, she ain’t like that. We both known her for years before we got separated, surely you got a little more faith in us than that.”

Dutch shook his head in frustration. “Now why else would she follow us here? Arthur my boy don’t you see? She’s greedy, she wants to take everything from us.” He turned toward Arthur and his eyes focused. “No contact with her, you hear me? Not even through the mail, you can’t trust the mail service any more.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Dutch, I think yer gettin’ paranoid in your old age. Why don’t we just meet up and-“

“No!” Dutch bellowed. “I said no contact. No letters, and certainly no meeting up and that is final.” He sighed and softened his voice as he put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I know I’m being harsh, but I just want what’s best for us, for everybody. I know you miss her, but we can’t trust her anymore. Take comfort in knowing she’s alive. It’s more than what most of us have gotten from this life.”

Arthur watched Dutch’s back as he walked away. Was Dutch descending into a new madness or was Arthur following so blindly that he hadn’t noticed until now? He did not know.

-

Arthur groaned in frustration as he ripped the page from his journal and balled it up. Identical wads of paper littered the booth he sat in at the saloon. Writing was always something that came easily to him, until now.

Y/N,

I spoke to Dutch and

Rip! Crinkle crinkle. Let’s not start with that.

Dearest Y/N,

Rip! Dearest? Arthur flushed. Maybe too much. Crinkle crinkle.

Y/N,

He paused and sighed, he knew what he had to say but putting it into words was proving easier said than done. This is the last shot, after spending an hour writing unfinished letters, this is the last one just say what you have to say. He laid the pencil back to paper and stopped thinking.

I’ve missed your company terribly, so I am quite happy to be writing you this letter. Mary-Beth told me to tell you hello and send you her warmest regards. She cried when I told her you were alive, by the way. Don’t you know it’s rude to make women cry? I guess I can’t say too much, I’m not much of a gentleman myself. We didn’t get a chance to catch up when we spoke, I am curious as to where you have traveled and how you’ve kept yourself. I hope you faired better than us. After the whole Blackwater mess, we retreated up North and stayed in an abandoned mining town called Colter. We about starved to death waiting on the thaw, Davey did die, but from a bullet wound. Ol’ John Marston got attacked by wolves, he’s okay unfortunately just a bit uglier. A lotta bit uglier. Once the thaw came, we hit a train owned by Leviticus Cornwall. We didn’t know who the hell he was at the time, and what a mistake it was. Apparently he’s some big oil tycoon, he’s hired the Pinkerton Protection Agency just for us, ain’t we special? So between Pinkerton’s, bounty hunters, lawmen, and O’Driscolls, we’ve managed to find ourselves farther east than I’m comfortable with. In my opinion, we’re too close to civilization and people. Hosea agrees, he thinks if we keep up in this direction we’re gonna end up right in the jaws of their trap and I couldn’t agree more. Dutch is... well, Dutch is Dutch. He swears he’s got a plan to get us outta here, but instead of the West, he wants to go to the Philippines. Or was it Tahiti? Or maybe the Philippines are in Tahiti? To be honest, Dutch isn’t making a lot of sense these days. The day I saw you in town I confronted him about Blackwater. Dutch is a lot of things and a liar isn’t one of them, but I swear I could see his brain ticking like he was searching for answers he didn’t know. Things are changing, Y/N and things aren’t as simple as they used to be. Remember out in Nevada, it seems like we were just kids then. The group was so small, we were all so young. We were the best team for scams, weren’t we? Even managed to impress Hosea. It isn’t like that no more, I’m sure you’ve noticed. I know you said you aren’t coming back to the gang and I understand, but I hope you would be willing to spend some time with an old friend. If you’re still around Rhodes, you should meet me at the saloon sometime for a drink. I look forward to your letter and hope to see you again soon, I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

Yours, Arthur

Arthur cringed at the last line, it didn’t sound as foolish in his head as it read on paper. He debated crinkling it in a ball and restarting but that was a page and a half worth of writing! He sighed heavily and carefully ripped the pages from his journal and folded them neatly. He would need a new alias, one no one else in camp would know. After a moment of thought, he signed the envelope as Morgan Callahan.

-

The morning fog rolled over the lake and refracted the morning sunlight over the waves of the shore. The morning air was thick and soupy, you could already feel your hair sticking to the back of your neck. You wiped your brow as you put on your boots and began the day. This wouldn’t be such a terrible place to stay if it wasn’t so damn humid all the time. Iron Flat Lake was teeming with life, both underwater and around its shores. The woods surrounding the lake were flourishing with wildlife. In the three months you had been staying here, you were able to gain a few pounds and keep a low profile. You kept your head low after Blackwater, being part of a gang was the biggest advantage to evading the law and without it you were left vulnerable; you adapted in response. You were an outlaw turned outdoorsman, you traded in your repeater for a bow and replaced blood lust with the thrill of the hunt.

After pulling on your day clothes and your boots, you began your daily routine. First, you check your nets that you had set the night before. You frowned down at the single bass flopping in the tangle of nets. Usually the yield was higher, but one fish is enough for breakfast so it was all you needed. After breakfast, it’s time to kill the fire and take down the tent. Your spot was safe, but paranoia isn’t always a bad thing when you’re on the run, never such thing as too safe. The next step of the day is one that you almost cut out completely- checking the mail. The mid morning sun was warming the thick air as you came into Rhodes.

“Got anything for Marisol Fletcher?”

“Yes actually,” you looked up in surprise, you hadn’t had anything in weeks. You had to close your slack jaw when the postman turned back to you and handed you an envelope. “Here you are.”

You gave him a bright smile and a nod. “Thank you very much!”

You sat at the bench in the shade as you inspected the parcel. You didn’t recognize the name, Morgan Callahan? But you recognized the handwriting immediately. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your face as you read over Arthur’s beautiful handwriting. You forgot how eloquently he wrote, you could almost hear his voice reading you the words. The pages had a slight leather scent, they must’ve came from his journal. A memory of him sitting against his caravan lost in his drawings came into your mind. As you finished the letter, you reread the last sentence over and over. I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

How just like Arthur, it brought back so many confusing memories. Late night conversations where you could swear you saw his eyes linger on your lips, small moments in saloons after he’s had too many drinks and he’d get a little handsy but never in a disrespectful manor. But with all these little things came awkward next mornings where he wouldn’t look at you, claim to drink too much to remember what had happened the night before, and don’t even get started with the whole Mary situation. This man confuses you to no end with his wishy washy behavior. You sighed, was he wishy washy or were you just desperate to read into things? Maybe you just imagined his eyes lingering on your lips, maybe you took his touches too seriously. Maybe you wanted more from your relationship with him than he wanted. There was no maybe on that one, but you shook your head to yourself. You saw how Arthur loves a woman first hand, you were there every step of the way from the time he first met Mary until she rejected his proposal. That was the one night you had seen Arthur cry, and it was the most heartbreaking thing you’d ever seen in your life. So yes, you knew how Arthur loved and no, it was not intended for you.

You pushed yourself off the bench and into the crowded saloon. Your eyes searched for Arthur, but he wasn’t there. You were a little relieved, after so long you had forgotten how to hide how flustered he made you. You pulled the stolen stationary paper from your satchel and began to write.

Dear Arthur,

I have missed you also, as well as everyone else in the gang. Tell Mary-Beth I was elated to hear from her and hope all is well for her. Honestly Arthur, who hasn’t heard of Leviticus Cornwall these days? That surely was a mistake. I stayed in Blackwater for a couple of weeks in case you all came back but not only did you have wanted posters everywhere, the place was also crawling with bounty hunters. I heard some of them got Sean, I tried tracking him down but the trail went cold after a few days. After that, I was everywhere and nowhere. I survived off the land, really survived. I thought what we was doing as a gang was surviving but boy was I wrong. Having a group that size is a privilege you don’t know you have until it’s gone. With more and more bounty hunters popping up, I had to lay low. You’d be proud, Arthur I haven’t committed a crime worse than pickpocketing since we were separated. I’ve mostly just made money by hunting and fishing, I’ll pick up odd jobs where I can. For the most part it’s just been me and Ol’ Cow. He’s still fit as a fiddle, still wouldn’t trade him in for the world. Tell Marston I’m sorry to hear about his unfortunate face, maybe it will humble him up a bit. As far as Dutch goes, well maybe I shouldn’t go there as to keep conversation friendly. Don’t trust him Arthur, that man is a snake. I know he and Hosea raised you, raised us, but people change and not always for the best. Keep that in mind in your travels, and get the hell out of there the moment you notice anything fishy. You’re right, the world has changed and it isn’t so simple anymore. Civilization isn’t the cause of corruption, it’s the spawn of it. At the end of the day, there’s only one cause of corruption and that’s people. As for me, I’m currently camping out on Iron Bed Lake so I’m not far from Rhodes at all. I usually stop in the saloon in the evenings for a drink and some supper, that would be the easiest time to catch me. Maybe I’ll show you where camp is, your company is welcome anytime. I look forward to your company as always.

Yours, Y/N

You frowned at the ‘yours’. You always just signed, but it felt natural to mirror Arthur’s closing. As you folded the letter, you wondered when you would get to see him again. You pushed down the blossoming hope that it would be soon.

-

Arthur read the parcel just outside the post office, he told himself he didn’t want to risk getting caught but that didn’t explain the excitement he felt as he tore open the envelope. His heart felt heavy as he read your letter, you had lived so hard on your own and he had no idea you were even out there. It was hard for him to remember what it was like to be on his own before he met Dutch and Hosea. It had been so long, he honestly couldn’t recall. But, to live roughly you looked good, he thought. He smiled at the pages, he had forgotten the silly name you gave to your horse. It brought back the memory of the day you bought him from the stables. He spent two days trying to give you better names, what kind of name is Cow for a horse? He would ask. You would shrug as you patted his pink nose and say that it was a good name for a good horse and that was that. If anyone was more stubborn than him, it was you. He looked up at the sky as he finished the letter, the sun was already behind the trees. Perfect timing, he thought to himself as he whistled for his horse. The saloon wasn’t far at all, but Arthur wasn’t a patient man.

When he entered the saloon, his eyes darted across every face until they landed on a familiar black hat at the bar. He straightened himself and tugged at his vest self consciously, he wished he would’ve taken a bath first. He cleared his throat. “Ma’am.”

When you turned, Arthur was able to get a good look at you. Even through the humidity, your hair was still shiny and vibrant, the color hadn’t dulled a day since Blackwater. You had had a bath recently, your skin was clean and he could clearly see the freckles that dotted your cheeks. The sun had spotted new freckles since he had last seen you, now sitting around your lips and chin. Your sleeves were rolled up to reveal arms that were much more muscular than they were before. Even through the thin material of your shirt he could see the muscles in your back and shoulders. He tried to recall a more beautiful sight and was lost for words. When your lips curled into a smile, he felt a familiar heat in his cheeks. “Hello Arthur, have a seat.”

He nodded and obliged. Why was he so damn nervous all of a sudden? He started to speak and his mouth was terribly dry. He cleared his throat and waved over the bar tender. “So,” he stared at the ground as he spoke. “What kinda work you been doin’ in a run down town like this?”

You took a sip of your beer. “Mostly just handy work. Helped a feller patch his roof this mornin’.”

He smiled and his eyes flickered back to your muscular shoulders. “Well, ain’t you just a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, gotta do whatcha can to survive.” You smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Plus, I kinda like helpin’ people now.”

Arthur raised a brow towards you, “so you went from robbin’ and killin’ folks go helpin’ em around the house, huh?” He laughed. “Good on ya, ya got out.”

“Huh?”

He looked at you. “Ya got out, out of the outlaw game. Look at you now, a regular citizen.”

You frowned into your mug. “It weren’t my choice.”

“I’m sorry that wasn’t-“ he stuttered.

You sighed and gave him a smile. To him it looked terribly sad. “It’s okay, really. I know it ain’t your fault. I do miss it, more often than I don’t.”

“Why?”

“I guess I just miss havin’ a family. And people who care.”

“You can have a family outside the gang, ya know.” The bartender sat a beer in front of Arthur and he took a swig. “Hosea tried it for a few years.”

You barked a short laugh. “And who would have me? Look at me, I’m a beat up, rough nobody. Ain’t no man gonna want me.”

Arthur’s heart lurched, he fought the urge to put his hand on yours. Is this what he sounded like when he put himself down? It all sounded so ridiculous to him. “You don’t know that.” He said softly.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he looked at you. Your eyes were far away and a small smile was on your face. “I do, but thank you anyways.”

As evening shifted into night, one beer turned to two, which turned to five. The saloon was in full swing, every booth full of patrons and the saloon girls were fliting around like fireflies in July. A jolly tune was coming from the piano and the chaotic noise of drunk men but all you could hear was Arthur’s bubbling laughter. His cheeks were a bright red from the booze and he wore a lazy smile. He said something, but it was so slurred together in an incoherent mumble.

“What’d you say?”

He leaned in close to your ear and you felt his beard hair prickle against your skin. “I said, let’s get outta here.” His Breath was hot and you were glad he didn’t feel you tremble. You nodded and he took your hand and led you out into the street. The saloon was the only building with lights still on and the chaotic noise was muffled in the night. The crickets chirped as the two of you stumbled down Main Street.

Arthur still had your hand in his big palm, half dragging you along as you sang obnoxiously into the night. Arthur was carefully paying attention to the ground under him, but you were not. You stumbled over a rock and began to fall forward, but you were caught by two heavy hands on your waist. “Careful.” He laughed.

You giggled drunkenly and when you lifted your head to look at him, his face was inches from yours. Even with your vision spinning, you could Arthur’s eyes on your lips, when he met your eyes, there was something behind them you had never seen. After a moment, he cleared his throat and helped you to your feet. His hand lingered on your waist and you leaned into his shoulder as you smiled up to him, “thanks Artie.”

Arthur spurted and laughed heartily. “Artie?” He wipes a tear from his eye and laughed again. “Is that what yer callin’ me now?”

You laughed with him, the movement caused the two of you to sway. “Naw, I just thought it was cute.” Your finger came up and bopped him on the nose.

“You’re cute.” Arthur blurted. As soon as it left his lips he could’ve smacked himself. What a fool he was.

You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, “not as cute as you.”

Arthur’s vision was blurry but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. He swallowed hard, this was too much. He cleared his throat. “Where’s your camp?” He looked around and almost lost his balance. “Wheres the horses?” He slurred.

You laughed and slumped against a near by bench. “Who knows?” You fell into a fit of drunken giddy giggles.

Arthur plopped down beside you and slunk an arm around your shoulders. He smiled to himself as you curled up against his chest. “I’ve missed you.” You mumbled.

Arthur couldn’t tell if the heat in his cheeks was from the booze anymore. “I...I missed you too.”

When you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, he swore he could see whole worlds reflecting back at him. “Wanna know a secret?” You whispered.

He gulped. “Sure.”

With the most straight face you could manage you said, “I’m going to throw up.”

And with the most grace and poise Arthur has ever seen in a drunk person, you stood up, turned away from him, and vomited. He rolled his eyes and stood shakily. He put a hand on your back-for your support and his- and pulled your hair back with the other. “S’okay,” he whispered. “I gotcha.”

You cleared your throat and wiped your mouth as you turned to Arthur. “I think” you slurred. “It’s time for night night.”

Arthur laughed and whistled for his horse. She must not have been far, she came around the corner immediately. Arthur used her as support as he helped you up and then pulled himself up clumsily. He almost pulled you down as he mounted and the two of you fell into another laughing fit after you helped him up. “Okay okay,” He said as he tried to contain his laughter. “Where you stayin’ at?”

You leaned back against him and pointed lazily. “Jus’ go that way for a minute, I’ll tell ya where to go.”

With your best attempts of directions, the two of you finally made it back to camp and there your loyal steed was, waiting at camp without you. “Son of a bitch.” You muttered. “I’m too drunk to set up a tent.”

Arthur pulled his bedroll from his horse. “Sky’s clear, it shouldn’t rain tonight. We should be fine sleepin’ under the stars.”

You hadn’t even unpacked your bedroll before tumbling to the ground and resting against an old log.

Arthur laughed, “you sure you don’t want somethin’ more comfortable than the ground?”

You didn’t hear him, you were out.

-

When you woke up the next morning, your head felt like it had been smashed against a rock. You groaned as you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“Mornin’.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin and let out a small scream as you opened your eyes. When they focused on Arthur you groaned. “Jesus Arthur, you about gave me a heart attack. Ain’t used to havin’ other people around.”

He handed you a cup of coffee as you stretched. “Sorry bout that, didn’t want to wake ya.”

You scratched your head and closed your eyes as you sipped from your coffee. “Ugh, I feel like hell.”

Arthur chuckled. “Drink up, that should help. You should probably eat something too.”

You nodded and groaned in agreement as you stood up. “Christ,” You said as you walked over to check the nets. “How much did we drink last night? I lost count.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t count.”

As you pulled the net in, your arms ached in disagreement. Arthur stood up quickly, “need some help?”

You let go with one hand to do a shooing motion and went back to pulling it in. “I got it.”

The net was much more successful this morning, yielding three smallmouth bass and two largemouth bass. You smiled triumphantly. “Did someone say breakfast?”

You ate together in silence, Arthur contemplated bringing you back to camp, how mad could Dutch really get? You had something different on your mind. Through your hungover haze, little flashes were coming back. Arthur holding your hand, the way his lips brushed your ear, the way his beard felt against your skin, his arm around your waist. His presence was unearthing so many buried emotions it was starting to get overwhelming. He was the first to speak. “Do you plan on doin’ this forever?”

“Doin’ what?” You turned to look at him and he was staring at the ground.

He turned to you. “Doin’ this, livin’ on your own. Are you not lonely?”

You frowned. “Course I get lonely, but where else am I gonna go?”

“Come with me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He stood. “Come back to camp, come back to the gang! We all miss you like crazy, and Dutch, well Dutch can deal with it.” He took your hands in his and pulled you up from the ground so quickly you almost lost your balance. His gaze was so intense on you you had to look away.

“Arthur, Dutch ain’t gonna just let me waltz back in. And like I said, I don’t trust that man. I can’t trust him farther than I can throw him and as much as I-“ you caught yourself as sighed. “As much as I...care about you-about all of you, I can’t trust that man with my safety and well-being.”

“Trust me then.” You looked up at him and he caught your cheek in his hand. “Trust me with your safety and your well-being. Let me take care of you.”

Your chest seized and it was hard to breathe. “Arthur I...”

He suddenly looked sad and pulled away. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“

You cut him off as he began to turn away by grabbing his face and pulling it down to yours. Your lips were on his and before he could react, they were gone. You couldn’t look up at his face, you couldn’t handle the rejection. “Arthur, I care about you entirely too much for my own good. I need to go.”

Arthur was frozen in shock, he could still feel the ghost of your lips on his. As you turned to your horse, he felt the panic slip in, he lost you once and he didn’t want to lose you again. He caught your wrist and when you turned to look at him he looked desperate, afraid, and devistatingly handsome. “Don’t go. Don’t make me go without you again, I ain’t strong enough. You don’t gotta come back with me, just stay with me.”

“I...oh Arthur, you know I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He wrapped his big arms around your waist and it sent butterflies to your stomach. You wrapped your arms around him and sighed. “What are ya gonna tell Dutch?”

He buried his face into your neck and you felt him inhale. “I ain’t gotta tell him a thing.”

You rolled your eyes and relaxed in his embrace. “You silly, silly man.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur x reader #van der linde gang #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic #request #fluff

[jaybeartodd]

Colleagues Pt. 3/17 — Jason Todd x fem. reader

Y/N is struggling with this newly found information but decides to push it aside while things are going well. And maybe this Jason character isn’t as awful as he initially seemed...

Sorry this is so long! I was planning on making this two parts but I forgot to stop typing. Whoops. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and thank you for the amazing feedback! You guys have been fantastic!

Warnings: swearing and mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 1974

Tagging: @sarcasmismyfirstlove 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

It is sheer will and your hand supporting your chin that is at least keeping up the appearance of vitality as your professor lectures at the head of the classroom. After a quick digestion of the information discovered last night, you managed to hammer out a killer essay and get a whole 3 hours of sleep before having to wake up for your morning class. 

You are trying to focus on what the professor is saying by watching their mouth but all you can hear is the conversation between you and Nick.

It was after a long shift at your old job that you came home to Nick using the kitchen for actual cooking purposes. Throwing your bag down you eyed him wearily as he gave you happy smile from behind a steaming stove.

"Hey sis! I got us a real meal; steak and mashed potatoes.” 

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of his appearance. He has his long purple hair tied up in a bun and your Batman apron tied around his body. 

“What did I tell you about buying that disgusting meat at the butcher down the road?” you ask leaning over the sizzling pan cautiously expecting the worst. 

“No sis. This is real steak from a real store,” his dimples flash seemingly innocent and the steak does look halfway decent. If you even liked steak.

“Nick,” you sigh grabbing at a headache forming from the thought of him getting into your cash again.  

“No, Y/N, look I swear it was all my own money. I didn't take a cent from your jar in the dresser. Cross my heart,” he gestures to his heart. Mental note; move jar. 

You let out a breath and look into his brown eyes full of pride. You see the little brother who would do this silly promise ritual years ago when hiding in your self-made fortresses. Before he lost his way. 

Finally giving in, you cross your heart in sync with him and he laughs kissing you on the cheek. After finishing up the cooking, you manage to have a decent dinner with him even if you push around the steak so he won't notice you not eating it. 

It is one of the best moments you have had with Nick since you had to move in with him after several of his stints in jail. But you can't help the question burning in the back of your head. 

“Where'd you get the money, Nickie?” you ask somberly. Instead of the guilt you are expecting you see his face beam.

“I got a job,” your eyes widen at this. The boy who hasn't held a job in years can suddenly afford steak with work he has never even mentioned applying for. 

“No really! I got a delivery job! It is with a Mr. Sionis and it makes enough money that you can stop worrying about me and start focusing on paying your school and I can finally start supporting Trey.”

You can't help but absorb the pure joy emanating from him. You hug him and enjoy the moment even though you know he could make all the money in the world but the mother of his child would never let him have anymore than the every other weekends he is getting. Not that you can blame her. She has a big house, nice husband and great career. Trey is a cute kid and deserves the best life possible, Even though you miss him dearly and you know it crushes Nick. 

This memory still rings fresh in your head as one of the better ones even though Nick went straight back to his binging within one week of work leaving you to pick up the essentials. At least he has somehow held the job and pays for his own alcohol now. You aren't blind to the effect the job has had on your brother and now your curiosity grows knowing who his boss is and even more now that Mr. Wayne seems interested in the guy despite him supposedly being in Arkham. 

You show up to your desk that night to find an invitation laying on it. Looking around you don't see anything out of the ordinary. Although, did you expect to see someone gazing above their respective cubicle laughing at a rather lame prank?

The Wayne logo is painted across the front of it and you open it to see an elegant flourish of details of a ball. It seems you are cordially invited to the annual Wayne Enterprise Ball. You can't help but feel a grin spread across your face. How very posh. You chuckle to yourself but you know you are excited at the chance of attending the most prized Gotham event.

You probably will not be the most lavish of the attendees considering your limited store options that pair nicely with your limited cash flow but hell you will feel damn beautiful. You clutch the invitation close to you before putting it into your bag unaware of the amused pair of eyes watching your reaction. 

“Jason, your attention would be appreciated.”

Jason sighs and pushes himself off the window he was observing you from. 

“Yeah yeah Bruce. You've got the fullest of my attention.”

The next two weeks go by fairly quickly, You managed to make it to break from school with only a couple of sleepless nights preparing for midterms. Nick hasn't had another binge since the night you found out the interesting tidbit about his new job. Troy had a great visit where we attempted to bake ending in a floury mess. All of this, plus your growing excitement for the ball tonight, has caused you to push the Sionis incident from your head for now. You really didn’t want to rock the boat while it was wading steadily for once.

Your rose red dress from a nearby thrift store illuminates your carefully illustrated makeup and your y/h/c piled on top of your head once you are ready to head to the ball. You lock the door behind you and can’t help but feel giddy.

Not only are you being handed the perfect opportunity to make fun of ridiculous people in one setting but you are being handed the perfect opportunity of meeting local newspaper hotshots who could be your road into journalism. 

Your heels from a lifetime ago that you dug from deep depths of your closet may look great but are not the ideal footwear for a hike to Wayne Manor so you made sure to save up for a taxi. Not your atypical classy but better than appearing with bloody feet and being mugged 67 times on the way there. 

The Wayne Manor is hard to miss even as you are a mile away. You find yourself dazzled by the vastness only seen previously by you on TV. Your taxi driver drops you off at an appropriate amount of distance so that you can walk.

You pass what you assume to be millions of dollars of jewelry and satins as you make your way towards the mansion. An older gentleman with a gentle face is checking invitations at the door. 

You hand him yours hoping not to seem too eager. He gives you a warm smile as you thank him. 

“Have a fantastic night Ms. Y/L/N.” his accented voice reads your name off the invitation. 

The inside continues to astonish you as you take in the riches you thought only existed in movies. You can't help but gawk at the amount of stairs. Why do rich people need so many stairs?

After grabbing a drink, you go in search of familiar faces. You greet a few of your coworkers but then your eye catches an editor for a major newspaper in Gotham. You wander over to the assorted foods and pretend to be interested in them when in actuality you are plotting the best way to introduce yourself. 

“You're staring,” a voice makes you jump and drop your plate you had began filling up.

Oh there's only one person that could be.

You turn around to find a smirking Jason Todd. He cleans up nice, you mentally note. He has a crisp, obviously expensive black suit on and his hair is semi tamed back with some gel. 

“Is this some weird hobby you have? Scaring the crap out of people so that they drop absolutely everything in their hands,” you bend down to grab the food but he holds out a hand and swiftly crouches and sweeps the crackers back onto the plate. He grins and offers the plate back but your only answer in return is a look of annoyance.

He shrugs and puts the plate back on the table. 

“So why are you staring at Mr. Prie?” he asks and you cross your arms.

“I'm not.” he hitches an eyebrow at this obvious lie,

“Yeah ok well since you aren't you probably don't want me to introduce you to him,” he challenges you with an amused look and his hands casually shoved into his pockets,

You contemplate your options. Ignoring Jason and hopefully keeping the clumsy at a normal rate. Or meeting the man that could possibly give you the job of your dreams.

“Fine, yes I would love to meet him. Could you please introduce me?” you grumble and this seems to feed the smirk.

“On one condition,” he says. 

“Listen pal I am not being blackmailed into a date-” 

“One dance. That's all I ask. One dance,”

You stare at him calculatingly.

“Is this how you usually get girls?”

“I usually don't work so hard,” you blush at this which amuses him.

“Fine, you weirdo. I will dance with you but first introduce me,” you give in.

He offers his arm with a boyish grin. You roll your eyes and stroll past him towards Mr. Prie. 

Jason does an impressive job of introducing you as a highly-valued employee and even compliments your character. Damn, this man can charm the pants off of anyone. Mr. Prie ends up offering you a personal tour of the paper, making you even more successful than you thought you'd be.

You manage to keep your calm professional look as you shake his hand but when you are out of earshot you punch Jason in the arm in excitement.

“A personal tour!” you rub your hand after punching a surprisingly thick mass of muscle.

Jason’s grin matches yours as you look up at him absolutely beaming.

“Thank you so much for your help,” you say genuinely. 

“Hey don't use your words to thank me,” you look at him questioningly as he does an obnoxious spin and offers his hand out to you, “Use dance.”

You chuckle at his dramatic voice.

“Yeah about that, I can't dance,” all of a sudden you are pulled into the dancefloor and you collide into Jason's firm chest.

“Nonsense,” he says and you shake your head.

He looks at you sympathetically, “Here just follow my lead.” His hand wraps around your waist drawing the breath from you while his other hand clasps yours. 

Placing your free hand on his shoulder, your feet follow his and after a few toe-steppings, you find yourselves falling into a natural movement. 

“I am really sorry I was so rude to you the first time we met. I'm not usually like that I promise,” you say breaking the silence.

His eyes twinkle bemused. 

“I think I am the one who should be apologizing. I was being a jackals.” he admits.

You nod your head. “Yeah, you're right. Forget what I said.”

He laughs a hearty sound and you can't help but enjoy the vibrations it sends through his chest. 

The night is turning out way better than you expected. But it can only last but so long.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #fanfic #batman #batman imagine

[animalsoffarmsanctuary]

A Week at Farm Sanctuary: Winding Down the Summer Days With Rescued Farm Animal Friends

Students across the country are heading back to school, and here at Farm Sanctuary’s New York Shelter, we’re feeling the early traces of fall arriving just around the bend! For our “humanimal” friends, this time of year can be one of new beginnings — a chance to recommit to aligning our actions with our values and making choices we can feel good about. Of course, our rescued residents also make the most of the new beginnings that your support makes possible!

Change is brewing at Farm Sanctuary’s New York Shelter!

New “Kids” on the Block

This week brought big changes for two of our residents in particular: Darius and Halbert goats! As you may recall, we rescued these boys last year from a so-called “humane” farm-to-table operation in Cattaraugus County, NY. But there was nothing humane about the circumstances from whence they came: The boys were emaciated, riddled with parasites, and too frightened to even venture outdoors. After receiving care and kindness at Farm Sanctuary, however, they began to heal and learn to love again.

Sweet Darius. These affectionate boys want nothing more than to love and be loved. They playfully wag their tails and lick our faces, just like dogs!

Darius and Halbert were doing so well that we decided to place them in a loving home through our Farm Animal Adoption Network! We are so grateful for the compassionate families who open their homes and hearts to rescued farm animals — helping us to rescue and rehabilitate even more individuals in need.

Sometimes, though, circumstances happen that are beyond our control. A few months ago, Darius injured his leg, and his adoptive family contacted us to connect him with the very best care available. We brought Darius to the Nemo Farm Animal Hospital at Cornell University (along with his best friend Halbert for company, of course!), and he convalesced with his buddy at our onsite Melrose Small Animal Hospital. Thankfully, Darius has healed nicely — and with his adopter’s blessing, Darius and Halbert will stay at Farm Sanctuary in order to give Darius easy access to any follow-up care that he needs.

This week, Darius was doing so well that we moved the boys from the hospital to a pasture of their very own! In their new spot, they spend their days climbing, running, and grazing — free to just be themselves.

Halbert leads the way on their exciting new adventure!

Best friends forever.

Darius and Halbert savor a taste of Farm Sanctuary life!

Hello, Darius!

Welcome home, boys! We love sharing our lives with you.

Visiting With the Main Flock

From the new “kids” to our more seasoned residents, everyone at Farm Sanctuary has a place!

Cynthia goat comes to say hello! Rescued from a backyard butcher in New York’s Hudson Valley, this sweet, sassy girl has unfortunately seen her share of troubles. But these days, she teaches us how beautiful our lives can be when we put compassion first.

For a while, Cynthia’s shyer friend Panza (who came to us from the same rescue) preferred goats over humans, though she is beginning to solicit attention from her “humanimal” friends as well! 

Three cheers for the leader of the herd, Skye goat! Skye keeps all of the “kids” in check.

Here comes his friend Adriano, benevolent leader of the sheep! These boys make sure everyone gets along as they enjoy all that Farm Sanctuary life has to offer.

Looks like not-so-little Erin is following in Adriano’s footsteps! This sweet, curious boy is growing up so much each day — and we’re delighted to watch him come into his own as the incredible being he is.

Of course, he still spends plenty of time with his mom, Julie, as they navigate their happy new lives together. Farm Sanctuary life is a family affair — and along with Florence, left (Adriano’s mom!), and Lloyd, right, each individual is part of a loving family that supports them all as integral members of this compassionate community.

William, David, Francis, and Bob Barker flock together on pasture! These guys came to Farm Sanctuary at different times, under different circumstances — and yet here, they each have something unique to offer and are valued as they are. Their friendship inspires us to find and celebrate common ground with each other, no matter where our paths may lead.

Newcomer Nate also feels right at home! He and his twin brother Bob came to Farm Sanctuary as lambs, and have recently returned to our New York Shelter. Here, these goofy, gregarious boys have been making friends as they celebrate the beautiful support system that helps us all thrive.

Ash is also maturing into an incredible young lad! Rescued from neglect last year, this sweet boy has come a long way from the terrified individual we met back then. He is brave and independent, but also very affectionate, loving nothing more than lavishing attention from his human admirers! 

Ash snuggles with a young human friend on a recent sanctuary tour.

Ash's mom Connie helped her son learn to love and trust after she, too, felt comfortable enough to do the same.

Connie stands proudly in front of her home.

Pasture time is a lot like recess! Some, like Sookie and Gabby, like to run, play, and explore to their heart’s content.

Others, like Madeline, enjoy a more peaceful stroll.

And still others, like Daniel, prefer their quiet time to simply reflect and savor the beauty all around us.

Amy relaxes with friends.

Meanwhile, friendly Francis invites us to join in the fun.

And young Scott comes over to see what all the excitement is about!

Pamela stands tall and proud! Here, we celebrate individuals like her as they are, and are thankful that they feel comfortable enough to live life on their own terms.

Kaley gazes peacefully out toward the horizon.

Born at Farm Sanctuary, sweet Vera Jo has always known the love and kindness that she deserves.

Dore was also born here, though she’s still not a big fan of the “humanimal” after all these years. That’s okay, though — we’re thrilled that here, each resident is free to make his or her own choices.

Audrey is another of our shyer residents — but safe among her flockmates, she finds the security to be herself.

Go Max enjoys a stroll on pasture.

Joel shows off his handsome profile.

Safe at Farm Sanctuary, animals like Anne are free to shine.

Welcoming Our Visitors! 

With just one week until September, we’ll soon scale down our New York Shelter’s tour schedule to just Saturdays and Sundays each week through the end of October. During our last week of a full Wednesday-through-Sunday schedule this year, we celebrated the joy that comes with introducing our amazing rescued residents to new (and returning) human friends!

Jack sheep meets a new friend.

Tour Guide Chelsea Jamieson introduces guests to Zuzu goat.

Meanwhile, a young guest snuggles with Zuzu’s roommate Tatiana.

Za seems a little startled to have company during mealtime!

Min and Goodwin are also “too cool for school,” preferring to play amongst themselves.

You’ve “goat” to love these boys! Benedict and Chucky are also fan favorites, both on tours and through our explore.org livestream cameras.

“My daily joy is to scroll back and watch the workers ... feed the chickens/turkeys and get Benedict and Chucky ready for the day,” says explore.org user Loyce Baldridge. “Today was especially uplifting to watch Benny joyfully running to catch up with Chucky and getting to the grass. Also, getting a little 'extra' love from his Angel caregiver sending him on his way! MADE MY DAY! I too am in a wheelchair!” Thank you so much for your sweet comment, Loyce!

From his home at Farm Sanctuary to our viewers at home, Chucky is “heading” your way! This sweet boy rubs his head on the turkey barn camera, as if saying hello to his virtual buddies!

A young friend meets Merlin steer.

This gentle giant is a friend to all, demonstrating that farm animals just like him are each someone, not something.

Merlin is a great example for calves like Stanton! Along with his adoptive moms Jackie and Nancy, Stanton loves living in our special-needs herd and learning how to be a calf.

Stanton grazes with moms Nancy (left) and Jackie (center).

Stanton frolics through the pasture, kicking up his heels with delight!

Like most little boys, he can be a little bit silly!

Stanton loves a good chin scratch!

But don’t let that cute face fool you — Stanton gives us the “stink eye” as he gets ready to challenge us!

For more Farm Sanctuary updates, be sure to follow us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube. You can also tune in live on Explore.org to see what some of our rescued cattle, pig, sheep, goat, turkey, chicken, and alpaca residents are up to in real time! Want to meet our incredible residents in person? Learn how to visit here. Want to help? Your support makes our rescue, education, and advocacy efforts possible. You can also help by sharing our residents’ stories to spread the word that farm animals like them are each someone, not something. A compassionate world begins with you!

Special thanks to photo intern Christa for some of the beautiful photos you see today! Learn more about our internship program here.

#animals #animal rescue #animal photography #farm animals #animal rights #new york shelter #week in review

[ragsandmuffins]

What on Earth Is Going – A Beginning | The 12 Tales of Christmas – Day 12

Okay, this story – or rather this beginning is important to me. That’s why I saved it for the last day of The 12 Tales of Christmas. It’s a story I call What on Earth Is Going (there’s a reason that’s hard to put into words, so I’m not going to attempt it right now). I started planning it in early 2015. But I never got far. The basic synopsis is: The world is ending. People know. People react in different ways. The story is told from different points of view. The main story, the one that gets the most attention is that of two teenagers called Mick and F. Theirs is the only story of which I’ve actually written more than half a page. And still, it’s not much.

The reason I’m uploading this here is selfish: It’s mostly a reminder to myself that I should continue this story. I don’t know if it’ll ever grow into something acceptable, but this post is my reminder to at least give it a try. So here’s the first (and only completed) chapter of Mick and F’s story:

At least this will be the end of all airports. No more of that sitting around slumped like puppets on hard chairs, staring into the emptiness of unpleasantly bright rooms that manage to be sterile and insanitary at the same time. No more people rushing about, buying stupid crap they don’t need, because they suffer from the immense misconception that “duty free” is synonymous to “bargain.” It isn’t. And no more of that sickening, droning “This is the last call for passenger Who-the-Hell-Cares flying to Stop-It-Please, proceed to gate Fuck-This-Shit.”

The letters change. 17:40 London, LGW: DELAYED. Well of course it is! How could it possibly not be? As if I didn’t want to be home. As if I didn’t deserve to be at home! As if I hadn’t been through enough in this bleeding shit hole they dare to call a country! The letters on the destination board grow blurry. Tears welling up. Stop it. What was it? Pinch your nose and look at the ceiling? Whatever. Get a grip of yourself and then get coffee. My head’s throbbing and I have this funny taste on my tongue. I should probably eat something. With determination, I cross the hall to the nearest coffee shop selling your typical overpriced airport coffee. I couldn’t care less. I have more money than I can spend in a lifetime. I buy a cup of coffee and a greasy looking croissant and sit down at a small metal table. Then, of course, I remember that I am a coeliac and really shouldn’t eat that croissant and after one sip I realise that this coffee is just plain nasty. I want to drop both things into the nearest bin but that would be stupid. People might see. Not that I really care about that sort of thing anymore – but still… It’s just not really like me to leave food uneaten. The croissant will have to go, no doubt. I could literally die of that shit. Well no, not literally, unless I crap myself to death. But I suppose I can force the coffee down my throat somehow. So I take another sip and burn my tongue, thereby giving myself an excuse to place it on the table, look at my boarding pass, then my watch and get up in a hurry that I am not actually in. I leave the coffee and throw the croissant into the bin with the smallest possible range of motion so as not to attract attention. I want to be sick. Again.

Letters change. 17:40 London, LGW: GO TO GATE. There we go! Wasn’t so hard now, was it? I shuffle along the brightly lit corridors, walking behind the signs that say: GATE 18. The security check queue is surprisingly short. Of course, travelling in this direction is far less interesting than the other one, these days. But I have to go. I can’t stay where they didn’t stay. I feel the tears and possibly vomit trying to fight their way out of me again and stare blankly at the ponytail in front of me. I make an attempt to count each of the dark hairs, but it’s impossible. I need something possible. Okay. Some observations: dark hair, tied in ponytail, dark blue T-shirt, jeans, yellow hoodie slung over arm, red rucksack, no brand visible. There’s a print on her shirt: a flower pot and the words Oh no, not again. I wonder about the T-shirt for a while and even consider googling the words flower oh no not again, but then I realise how utterly silly that would be. I stare at the picture some more, but then lose interest in the girl (the posture somehow tells me it’s a girl, not a woman – too much slouching for a grown-up, or something) as the queue moves on sluggishly.

My turn now. I place my rucksack and jacket on the conveyor; belt, shoes: off; liquids, laptop, phone: separate. I still set off the alarm. Again. Why does that keep happening to me? The chubby security guy sports a bristly moustache and uneven sideburns. He asks something. “What?” I reply.

He switches to English. “Arms out please.” His accent is outrageous! How can that man mispronounce every single syllable of a three-word sentence?! And they allow him of all people to work at an airport. Where there are people who speak civilised languages like the one he’s butchering right now.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Look, is this really necessary?”

He looks at me with the uncomprehending gaze of a cow. “Sorry, I need to check you for weapons and other dangerous objects.” Wow, he’s probably learned this sentence by heart. Well done! It’s a stupid sentence, though.

“Yes, because God forbid I should kill anyone. Because that would make such a difference, right?” Seriously, why the hell are they even still doing this security bullshit? Sideburn Cow doesn’t seem to catch my sarcasm, or my comment. I think I’ve mentioned how well he speaks “English.” And he probably doesn’t know his arse from his armpit anyway. But he does manage to pat down all of my body parts individually and with great patience. He doesn’t find anything, though. Mick Young remains a free man, teenager, adolescent, legal adult, whatever. Right. Passport: check. Boarding pass: check. Wallet: check. Trail mix to manual.

After a few more minutes that feel like centuries – the dark ages, to be precise – I’m on the plane to my doom. I look out the window. The weather is ghastly. Drizzly and grey and wet and chilly and just generally… ghastly. I didn’t think to bring a book. I don’t feel like listening to music. All I do is feel sick and… I need a distraction. I toy with the thought of taking the safety instructions card from the seat in front of me and read it. But I’m nowhere near desperate enough for that. I’ve flown before. They keep saying that aeroplanes may differ, but they don’t, and I hate all of them equally. I know the procedures. Also, I couldn’t give a flying fuck about safety on board. For a while I manage to amuse myself with the thought of flying fucks. Because soon enough, I’ll be up in the air and every fuck given at an altitude of I-Haven’t-The-Faintest must consequently be a flying one. Just as this train of thought is starting to lose its appeal and the gloom is creeping back into my mind, I hear a voice. She’s saying something in that unintelligible gibberish they call a language here. I turn my head. “I beg your pardon, hwhat did you say?” I say in my best Stephen Fry imitation – which is pretty bad.

She repeats herself in English: “You’re in my seat.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

I check my boarding pass. “Sorry, but I’m really not!”

“Oh.” For some reason she looks devastated. I recognise her now. She’s the girl queueing in front of me at the security check. She didn’t get a pat down courtesy of the Sideburn-Cow, though. The front of her shirt has a cartoon whale on it and some letters that are too small to read without looking like a perv.

“I specifically asked for a window seat,” she mumbles.

“Well, you can have mine then,” I reply.

What did I just say? No, of course she can’t have it! I really, really want the window seat. I need the window seat! But she’s looking at me with such a sweet look of surprise on her face. “Really?”

Ah well, gentleman, knight in shining armour, and so on. “Why, yes of course.”

I get up and wriggle my way past the other seat. Gosh, when did I get so fat? Then again, this is an aeroplane. They’re built to make people feel horrible about themselves and the world. An abomination of human endeavour. She gives me a grateful smile and squeezes past me, stuffs her red rucksack under the seat and sits down. I sit down, too. Not at the window anymore. I. Am. An. Idiot. What was I thinking? Chivalry is dead or soon will be, and I certainly shouldn’t have to bother about it. And what am I going to do during the flight? Quietly throw up into the cute little throwing up bag? Or I suppose I could talk to her. But she might think I’m flirting… Hell, what does is matter? I mean, even if I was flirting, there might be one and a half hours of awkwardness and then I’ll never have to see her again.

Read the rest of the chapter here...