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#anyway i hope you enjoy this i hope you find it as funny as i do MWAH

kamii-2 · 8 hours

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i accidentally posted it but i screenshotted it before i deleted it 😭😭 anyway it’s gonna be short and to the point bc i don’t know much about her still but im trying my best to find things about her 🫡

warning(s): cussing, smut

genre: smut

pairing(s): azzi fudd x fem!reader

not proofread ☹️

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“fuck!” you moaned as azzi stuck her tongue in you, you didn’t expect it. azzi was on her knees on the floor and you were on the bed propping yourself up on the bed with your elbows. she removed her tongue and added her fingers and licked and sucked on your clit, making you approach your orgasm faster than expected.

azzi was going faster the more you moaned, you tried to hold it in as long as possible but the ways he was fucking you nothing was staying in. “oh god, azzi, i’m cumming.” you told her in between moans, “go ahead.” she said in between your legs.

she helped you ride out your orgasm and got up off her knees after. you laid there trying to catch your breath, you looked up when you heard the sound of the strap being put on. when you looked up you seen azzi buckling the strap on, she looked fine as hell. her hair in a low bun, sports bra, and a pair of lacy black panties.

she was walking up to you with the strap on and you continued to admire her. “you’re so beautiful.” you told her while using your elbows to prop yourself up and admire her, she smiled at you and gave you a kiss, “thank you, you look beautiful too.”

she put her hands on your hips and lined herself up with your entrance, she squeezed your hips to let you know she was entering you. even thought she told you she was going to enter you didn’t expect for it to be so hard. you moaned in pleasure and a little bit of pain. she continued the harshness but added more speed every few seconds, you were a moaning mess and just a mess in general. you had tears in your eyes and some down your face and you started to sweat a little.

“oh, fuck.. azzi, i can’t take it anymore.” you told her, your voice a bit broken and gone. “yes you can, you’ve taken harsher.” she said sort of panting, you moaned instead of replying to her. “i need to cum, b-badly.” you told her while moaning uncontrollably. “hold it for a little longer.” she said. she thought it would be funny to press under your stomach above your pussy and you couldn’t hold it anymore, you cummed all over the strap. “why would you do that.” you while out of breath and smiling. “because i want to.” she smiled back, giving you a kiss.

==================================

sorry it’s so short and took so long to get out. anyway i hope you enjoyed, have good day/night, love you 💋💋

#uconn wbb #uconn huskies #azzi fudd x reader #azzi fudd

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frankenjoly · 2 days

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so many fun prompts!! hope you dont mind im just throwing a bunch at you skdjdj

- "I hate you." "Aw, that's sweet. You can't even lie to my face." + chuuran

- "Are you really that pissed off? It's just a little love bite." "I have stitches." + dazai and any other person

- Put a flower in the other’s hair. + siglai

- "You're my priority." + kunikida and any other person

up to you what you wanna do! no pressure 🫶

i love these all of these!!! and here we go, part 2093485 of me not having patience to wait to have all to post and splitting instead (and i chose kunichuuzai for the 2nd bcs: it seemed funny lkajsdlfkj)

chuuran + “i hate you” “aw, that’s sweet. you can’t even lie to my face.”

“I hate you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. You can’t even lie to my face.”

“You--” Chûya, instead of trying to come up with something else, simply sighed in defeat. Trying to deflect or convince someone as smart and shameless as Edogawa Ranpo was a lost cause. “Is it lyin’ when you’re already aware it’s not true? And I don’t really count on you bein’ fooled anyway?”

“Mhm. What would you call that, then?” Was Ranpo’s amused answer.

“An exaggeration? ‘Cause I’m indeed a lil pissed, y’know.”

“As if you could stay mad at me anyway.” No, Ranpo wasn’t stopping. “You or a ton of people, by that matter. This face does wonders, you can’t deny that.” Exactly, Chûya couldn’t, and so he resorted to simply sighing again.

“Man, you’ve already won. Are you also gonna still kick me while I’m in the metaphorical ground? C’mon.”

kunichuuzai + “are you really that pissed off? it’s just a little love bite.” “i have stitches.”

“Are you really that pissed off? It’s just a little love bite.” Dazai said, smug as one could be.

“... I have stitches.” Kunikida instantly answered, arms crossed and frowning deeply, then let out a deep sigh. “And if Chûya hadn’t been able to sew the wound, I’d have needed to go see Yosano-sensei and–” He turned to Chûya for a second. “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem, babe.”

“See? You could enjoy both the bite and having Chûya’s hands all over your thigh when patching you up, I’d call that a double win.”

“It’s not a full win ‘cause Yosano-sensei is gonna find out when you tell her, then you two are gonna laugh our asses off at my expense.” Kunikida sighed again. “And that’s the best case scenario, the worst is her insisting on treating me anyway.”

“Y’know, Kunikida-kun… you didn’t deny having enjoyed… not at all…” Right after saying, or rather sing-songing that, a gigantic smile appeared on Dazai’s face. Or it would be more accurate to say his initial smug expression had only gotten worse. To Chûya’s credit, at least he was trying to hide his own amusement in order to not encourage Dazai further, but still.

“Alright, it wasn’t that bad. Happy now?”

“Very.” And yes, it was quite endearing, seeing him so satisfied. Even if Kunikida wasn’t going to admit it in that particular case.

(Also on ao3.)

#chuuran #kunichuuzai #kunikida doppo #nakahara chūya #dazai osamu #edogawa ranpo #bsd kunikida #bsd chuya #bsd dazai #bsd ranpo #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #my stuff #clau stuff #ficlet #tyyy lena <3

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spearxwind · 7 months

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✦ Tfw your killer AI gets himself stuck in fucking orbit, somehow still manages to be a nuisance ✦

I've had this idea in mind for a few years and finally drew it, but since I've missed doing actual comic pages and I really wanted to start messing with more creative paneling I thought I'd use it as an excuse to experiment instead of just doing a little strip like usual >:] so enjoy this shitpost in 4k ultra HD edition

#windyart #comic #the hollowridge disaster #knife #adriel #TEEHEE.... DOING LEGIT COMIC PAGES LETS GOOOOO #im actually so fucking proud of this my dudes like for fucking real !! hello!!!! i drew this with my own two hands!!!#and i didnt use my usual workflow I just made some shit up!! :D feels good!!!!!#if i ever did a legit HR comic it would probably look rly similar to this i think. i love the aesthetic very much #im probably gonna try and do my comique shitposts this way for a while bc i wanna practice paneling and such. its more of a time investment #but also its an investment nontheless!!#anyway i hope you enjoy this i hope you find it as funny as i do MWAH

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royalarchivist · 6 months

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Quackity: Oh, it's gonna be so cool to see how this develops. I'm excited, I'm gonna try my best. I'm not the greatest at Minecraft whatsoever, I did nerf Green Team a little bit by accident on the second day. My bad! But, you know, I'm so ready to just grind out and see what we can do, and I just–

I wish everyone saw it with the same amount of, like, kind of enthusiasm. I think all of this and all the development and all the potential arcs, that's going to fcking allow for something absolutely incredible.

And if anyone ends up clipping any of this, something I do want to say is I implore people to view everything with a lot of enthusiasm. No stress, no anxiety, just a lot of enthusiasm. Because, again, this is going to allow for a lot of cool things in the server. Not just now, but in the future, too.

#Quackity #OiBagi #QSMP #QSMP Purgatory #Purgatory #Green Team #Bagi #Alright last one for tonight I got things to do #But Quackity did say ''if anyone clips any of this'' so I wanted to make sure I shared that final message he gave everyone #Because I agree!#I know fandoms can be toxic and people can have POV brainrot #But I hope everyone is still able to remember the reasons why they love QSMP so much #and I hope they're still able to find enjoyment -- if not with the event itself then with your streamers #I personally wasn't a fan of the Debate part of the Election Arc #But I still enjoyed myself because the people I watched made it funny or they poked fun at it or they avoided it completely #Don't be afraid to block people or mute / block tags or anything #And for the love of god stop using Twitter if you can #I've significantly reduced my usage (even though I love seeing fanart -- though many fanartists are moving to Tumblr; which is nice)#I primarily use it to keep up with the update accounts and see what the CCs are up to #But anyways. Take care of yourselves guys. The toxic people can be loud but they are just a very vocal (very annoying) minority #Love and enthusiasm is always the majority. After all; that's why we're here in the first place!

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completemessash · 1 year

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Make you feel better (a.i.)

notes: this is my first post, yayyyy. feedback, reblogs and comment are greatly appreciated! also follow me for more and requests are open! ❤️

Warnings: boyfriend Ashton, established relationship, blowjob, swallowing, hair pulling, dirty talk, Ashton x reader

×××

Ashton's eyes were half closed as he stared at the ceiling. He had been working on new songs the past days, almost non stop and he was visibly exhausted.

You had offered him his favourite drink, to watch his favourite show with him and asked what he wanted to eat.

He had only replied with a shake of his head or a grunting sound that said no.

But you wanted to make him feel good, he deserved to feel better, he deserved everything.

"Ash?", you tried again, reaching out to brush your knuckles over his thigh.

His eyes slipped closed but he once again didn't say anything.

"Let me make you feel better", you whispered and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

Finally, his tired eyes met yours. "You don't have to do anything, baby. I'm just being a little dramatic."

You shook your head no immediately.

"You worked all week, babe"

"S just music"

"Which doesn't mean it can't be exhausting"

He bit his lip at that. He knew you were right but often he felt like he shouldn't complain about hos job when you worked a hard 9 to 5 job and he got to tour the world and write music.

"Okay?", you asked for reassurance and he smiled. He tried to hold it back by biting his lip once more but he couldn't hide his excitement from you.

"A little something would be nice, I can't deny that", he said coyly.

That was all you needed to slip off the couch and between his already willingly spread thighs.

Your nimble fingers opened his fly, tugging of his pants with your help and letting his underwear follow. He was only half hard but that would be changed soon.

"Babe", he murmured when you didn't start with what you both knew he wanted and instead kissed his hips, slightly biting the soft skin and occasionally 'accidentally' letting his cock brush your jaw or cheek.

His soft curved lips escaped a small gasp when you finally took his tip into your mouth. You made sure to keep your teeth hidden and your tongue dipping into his slit, while your left hand stroked his cock to full hardness.

"Y/N", he moaned your name when you leaned down further and took him into your mouth as far as you could. A pinch to his thigh indicated what you wanted him to do: use you.

"Fuck, fuck", he groaned when his hands grabbed onto your hair and pushed you down until your nose was just barely touching his pelvis. You were choking and struggling to keep breathing but it was okay. He needed this and you wanted to give him everything he wanted even if it meant you were going to die from it. Of course you weren't gonna die and he wouldn't let that happen but you knew that you would do it for him. And he would do the same for you.

An almost high pitched moan pulled you from your thoughts and brought you back to reality. Ashton was thrusting his hips up from the couch, fucking your mouth slowly with his hands still gripping your hair. But you wanted him to moan louder than those small sounds and his hands to be restlessly pulling while his hips stuttered.

So you increased your pace and soon he was following your wish.

"Y/N, fuck", he groaned as his hips gained speed and you felt tears brim your eyes, "You suck my dick so fucking good - love - love when you're such a g - good girl for me"

You let out an appreciative moan that made Ashton throw his head back on the couch, hips thrusting up even more and you had to sig your nails into his thighs to stop the urge to pull off. He was so far down your throat, you couldn't even imagine how sinful the outline of his big hard cock in your cheeks must have looked.

"I'm about to-", he warned you in case you wanted to pull of but you just moaned again and bobbed your head against his thrusts. He noticed the way you couldn't help but spread your own thighs, rolling your hips towards the floor to have it rub over your center but he didn't comment on it. You both knew he was going to do that later and you were already excited for the taunting way he would speak about you having to get yourself off because sucking him off made you so wet.

For now, you were both concentrated on Ashton's hard cock that was starting to twitch lightly in your mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, ah", he moaned louder than before and the same moment he pulled your hair so hard it stung just a little more than you were comfortable with, he cock was spurting into your mouth.

Hot cum was hitting the back of your throat and through watery eyes you watched his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth hang wide open. He was so hot when he was like this and even though you were well aware that you weren't the first one to see him like this, he had promised you often enough that he wanted you to be the last. He was made for you and he wanted you to keep him.

"Show me", his voice was raspy when he asked you, his softening dick resting on his hip.

You obeyed him, all to eager to be that good girl he had called you, and opened your mouth for him.

His fingers danced over your jaw as he hummed like he was considering whether he liked you showing him his cum that was slowly starting tö drip out one of the corners of your mouth so he had to push it back in with his fingers.

He loved it, you both knew that, it made him feel like you belonged to him.

"Good girl, baby", he finally approved and you smiled, then swallowed the sticky mess. For some reason you always loved the taste of it even though to most people cum was disgusting. Maybe it was just him and his tasted good. Too bad that no one else would ever taste it, you thought cockily.

"How do you feel?", you asked when you got off your knees, helping him back into his pants and cuddling into his side. Partly to make sure he wasn't going to get up and go right back to recording music.

"Good", he smiled and pressed a kiss to your swollen lips, "but shouldn't I be asking you that?"

You shrugged. "This was about you, Ash, just for you. Just wanted to make you feel better"

"I'm always better when you're with me"

He laughed when you called him a sap and hit his chest.

Later on, when he asked to repay the favor and you said he didn't have to but he was insisting because getting you off gave him just as much pleasure as you getting him off, you weren't calling him that anymore.

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theshadowrealmitself · 1 year

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Thinking about: two characters getting sent to an alternate dimension right after their selves in that dimension (who are much older than they are) are killed, so everyone thinks that instead of dying, the event somehow regressed them into their younger selves

Due to how terrifying everyone comes across to them in the new universe, they just go along with it, hoping no one knew their other selves well enough to know that these new people are actually new people and not just younger versions of the people they know

Turns out, in this universe, they’re mortal enemies

In the middle of a space war

This is nowhere close to how their original universe was.

#convoluted setup because I wanna think about that specific angst and drama in SU #where everyone thinks of St*ven as Ros*/P*nk Diamond #but he’s his own separate person #and I also wanted to think more about the rebellion part of the whole thing #since even tho they’re still there everything’s more like post-rebellion #if that makes sense?#anyways this is the plot I think about to get to what I want #it’s two of them because that’s funny to me #imagine you’re suddenly mortal enemies in a space war with like. your study partner from college or smth #imagine finding out you’re now like. an evil fucking overlord in a new reality when you were just trying to like. ask your crush out #and now your crush is like the leader of the rebellion out to overthrow ‘your’ operation #it’s just funny to me #I change the characters and what their actual backstory is around a lot #but what’s written in the post is like the barebones I keep to #no fandom #hope y’all enjoy these thoughts too

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nickyroethemarinebiologist · 7 months

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More cowboy content INCOMING!! I which Amos is finally introduced and Jensen has the worst day of his life. Bon appetit

* * *

Chapter Two, "Above Snakes"

Or, Edward Jensen's No Good Very Bad Day

The next morning Jensen woke when he was gripped by a particularly frigid bout of shivering, which both startled him awake and sent him near toppling from his bed. He did not remember falling asleep in his clothes, but frowned at their crumpled state and his trembling arms. He had to peel his waistcoat from his shirt, and dropped them both on the floor while he went in search for something fresh, and then he found himself at once hungry, having missed both his dinner and supper the evening before.

Fortunately, it was not very early, and he had slept well enough, so he was able to haul himself downstairs, not before finding his slippers tucked underneath the wardrobe in the corner of his bedroom. He paused at the last step, and found himself held at the door; there was mud across the floorboards and trailed onto the stairwell. He closed his eyes, and then opened them instead on the doorway that led from the hallway into the kitchen, making a point to skirt around the door, where he remembered cowering in the dark the night before.

The kitchen was cold, which only served to make his persistent shivers all the more unpleasant; Jensen frowned and held his arms tightly around himself, feeling rather odd but hoping that it would begin to warm him, if only by a little. He found a stack of hard biscuits in one cupboard, and half a loaf of sourdough left on the side, both of which he rather thought were stale.

He stood at the counter, having sliced himself a piece of the sourdough and then stared disapprovingly at how roughly it had been cut. But he only reached for it, before he froze in alarm: he had not cleaned his hands since he had woke, and there were two flecks of red dried onto his skin, between the first finger and the thumb, thinned in the rain but still quite clearly blood. Jensen thought of McKinley's head wide open on the tablecloth, and then leant over the sink and abruptly threw up.

He washed his hands immediately after he had washed his face, and then he washed them twice more to be sure. His skin hurt from scrubbing at it for so long, and his palms felt painfully raw, so he wrapped them in a thin cloth and hid them in his pockets; he had no desire to look at them again, at risk of being reminded of poor McKinley's fate.

This unpleasant task completed, he turned back to his simple breakfast; he had forgotten about it entirely, and it was beginning to look quite unpleasantly soft. But he could not entirely forget the sour taste in his mouth, and coupled with the awful recollection of the night before, he was quite sure he had lost his appetite.

Instead he climbed the stairs and once again found himself in his bedroom, standing with little recollection of why he was there at all. His stockings were discarded in a pile, and there was a dried silhouette of mud encrusted into the floorboards underneath. Jensen grimaced, and pushed them to the side with one foot, feeling worse still. He supposed he would have to file some sort of report, which he found rather unpleasant on its own; he was not entirely sure he had not dreamt the whole thing. But what he dreaded most, was the idea of old McKinley, the poor fellow, festering in his own dining room; Jensen could only imagine the smell. The walk over town would at the very least offer some form of distraction; for his mind would still wander back into gloomy paths, and he had to force his attention to the task at hand.

He could not find his usual shoes; they were still set neatly on McKinley's doorstep, to his great displeasure, but there was a pair in his wardrobe, though buttoned rather than laced, and a pair of boots he had worn only once. He chose the buttoned pair, and a fresh coat to go with his waistcoat, which had been stuffed quite ungraciously behind his other clothes, and he could not remember why, until he felt the fabric itch uncomfortably at his arms through the shirt sleeves.

He left the house quickly afterwards, having packed himself a small bag to take along with him, and set immediately for the sheriff's office; the little building tucked into a far corner of town, largely falling into disrepair, but kept standing by the work of the sheriff himself. By some fortune, the weather had turned, and the mud on the roads had for the most part dried over or fallen into dust; a welcome change from the evening before. But there was an odd sort of air to the town, which Jensen had not noticed when he left his house but now could not seem to ignore: there were very little of the townsfolk about, and the few he recognised seemed to refuse him entirely when he smiled and offered them a friendly wave.

It was peculiar, at the very least, and disheartening at the worst; Jensen could not think what must have caused their wretched mood, but he resolved not to dwell on it, though his discomfort only worsened as he walked. Each building seemed emptier than the last, shut-up windows and curtains pulled tight across the slats, and Jensen found himself wholly disturbed; it was very peculiar, indeed.

He had not long turned the corner from his house when there was a murmur from one of the buildings across from him, spoken as if whispered though more than loud enough to catch his attention. Jensen turned in alarm, and found a face he recognised: Robert Carver, a man much older than Jensen himself, in both wits and looks. Jensen knew his wife far better than he knew the man himself, but he remembered that he ran the carpenter's near the very centre of town, and that he had borrowed the man's tools when he had decided to take up woodworking on a whim, though could not remember if he had ever handed them back.

"Ah, Mr. Carver!" Jensen said cheerily, with a wave.

Carver did not immediately respond; he looked at Jensen with a narrow-eyed expression. It was a stark change from the friendly greetings that Jensen was accustomed to, though even then they had been rather short at the very best of times, and he found himself for a moment at a loss for words. He could see no reason that the man might find him so disagreeable; he had done nothing of worth the day before until his visit to McKinley, and had presently only been awake for less than a mere few hours. And he could not remember ever having a disagreement with Carver, so he was quite ready to mark the man's behaviour down to pure disrespect. Still, Jensen did not want his image tainted in the eyes of the townsfolk he so valued, and said only; "You look as if you've had a bad morning, Mr. Carver!"

This time Carver only grunted disagreeably, at which Jensen frowned.

"Is it the rats?" He tried again, having to force himself to speak brightly, "I have heard there may be an infestation—"

"You can stick your fuckin' rats up your arse, mate," Carver said abruptly. Jensen stared at him, quite taken aback.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Said you can shove those rats up your arse!" Said another woman, quite loudly, from the house across from Carver's. Jensen did not know her as well, but he remembered her name well enough, and turned to her in alarm.

"I heard what he said, Mary," He said slowly, feeling quite affronted. "I only did not understand, Mr. Carver—"

"You ugly coward! Have you no decency?" Mary shouted again, though it was more accusation than question. She did not stop, though people were beginning to look curiously out of their houses at the sound of her voice. "Filthy murderer!" She leant over the wooden railing of her porch, looking wholly wild with rage.

Jensen felt his mouth open in shock. "That's hardly decent, Mary!" He said, trying to back out of the troubled exchange, feeling rather upset now.

Mary did not listen to his pleas, or if she did, it only served to make her more angry; she shook her fist at him, much to his horror, and chanted, 'Murderer! Filthy murderer!' until her voice began to go hoarse, and then still more. Those watching from outside their houses took up the chant, which only served to bring more faces to their doors, confused as much as hateful. Jensen stood in the middle of the street, clutching his bag close and feeling his hands start to sweat; he wiped them on his coat and kept them closed at his sides. He thought perhaps he should run, but he could not think quite clearly in the moment, and only tried to calm the chants in desperate pleas, forcing himself to speak steadily.

Still, they did not let up, with half the street now screaming ugly words, and more still watching from their windows or behind the cracks in their half-shut curtains. He searched for support, but could find no face with a sympathetic expression, save for the children hiding behind their mothers, who looked mostly terrified.

Jensen was beginning to feel panicked. "I really don't know what you mean, Mary!" He said loudly, looking nervously at the gathering crowd. "I think perhaps you have the wrong man. Mr. Carver?"

The man had been watching in silence, Jensen called out to him in hopes of support, or at the very least an explanation. Carver turned his eyes on him, wearing an expression of open disgust, and he already began to regret calling on him at all.

"Shot McKinley in the head, y'did. They found your shoes at his door," Carver said. He did not look at all pleased to be of any help, more than anything, he only looked amused by Mary's screaming and the accusations now rising from the crowd. Jensen looked at the man in horror, and for an awfully long moment he remembered the man with monstrous eyes, standing near-silently in the middle of McKinley's dining room. His hand itched, and then it was like he could feel the blood he had washed away, as though it was under his skin, and his hand began to tremble.

"That— I had nothing to do with that," He turned on the crowed, feeling his face twist into a desperate expression. "I had nothing to do with that!"

He did not think himself a liar — he knew McKinley's fate had been nothing to do with him, and his gut felt as if it had turned in on itself when he remembered the man. To think himself a murderer in the eyes of the folk he thought he knew, it was all too much.

"Coward!" Mary screamed again — she looked to be enjoying this as much as Carver, perhaps more. Jensen protested, shaking his head in fearful desperation, but something in her words had set the crowd off, and they came surging forward, first in small amounts and then all at once, excited by the noise like a great pack of rats under the floorboards, only rats might at least have felt some remorse.

Jensen went momentarily breathless with fear, while faces grew and fingers pointed, and then he hugged his bag close to himself and fled, again, into the streets.

The crowd did not follow all at once, but Mary in particular laughed and jeered as he ran past, and a few at the very front of the crowd took off after him, though seemed to treat it as though catching a pest more than a real manhunt, laughing and raising their fists as if to strike him, and throwing around accusations that quickly turned into mean-spirited insults.

Jensen waved a wagon down, in the hopes of making an escape; he had never been one for running, and he was beginning to feel like he might collapse if he did not stop, though he had not been running for long. By some strike of luck, the wagonman caught his frantic waving, and pulled the horses to a stop. Jensen practically leapt through the doorway, nearly tripping over the step and falling flat onto his face. He felt hands grab at his coat and bags, and blindly struck at the air, pulling himself away, and hiding out of reach at the furthest corner of the wagon, pressed right against the back wall.

The door had not quite shut properly, and he was half convinced his pursuers had not given up the chase yet; he expected them at any moment to come piling into the cabin and bundle him out with them, and he could only imagine what might become of him then. He struck the roof of the wagon twice with his fist, and yelled rather impolitely for the man at front to set off, something which he might have regretted if he was in any less of a panic.

At once they set off, at a speed that felt infuriatingly slow, and Jensen allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. He slid away from the wall and into a more comfortable spot on the seat, where he hugged his bag to his chest and groaned, very loudly, though buried his face in the fabric to muffle it somewhat.

He supposed he could not return home, though he felt suddenly saddened at the notion, so he called for the wagon driver to hold and had an anxious consultation with him at the side of some empty road, where the man, though he looked rather concerned, suggested that they might stop at the next town over, which was no less than a day from there, by his estimate.

Jensen settled into the wagon again and tried to quell the mounting worry that stubbornly would not leave his mind. He distracted himself best he could by watching the ground beneath the wheels move from roads to dirt paths, and wrapped his coat around himself as a sort of blanket in the hopes that he should at least be able to rest his eyes, for he was sure that he would not be able to sleep, perhaps not for days afterwards, or never again.

He hoped only that he had enough in his pockets to pay for the journey, and allowed himself to adjust to the jolting rhythm of the wheels over the dirt.

* * *

The sky over town was full of low-hanging clouds, slowly gathering, and warning of a storm that was yet to come. It had not long passed mid-noon, but already it looked more like the beginning of evening, darkening into something like dusk while the townsfolk packed themselves back into their homes and pulled the curtains shut, the pale warmth of lamplight still finding ways to push through the slats of their windowpanes. Amos had not followed their example; he had little desire to retreat back into his own home. Instead, he had turned to the bar for supper, and sat alone at a small table by the side of the window, watching with little interest as the first rain began to fall.

He called for a simple dinner of beef alongside a plate of beans, both of which turned out to be dreadfully unappealing, and he could not quite bring himself to eat. He sat back in his chair, picking at splinters of wood that had frayed along the edge of his table, and feeling as though he had largely given up on the world, let alone his dinner, which was now beginning to turn unpleasantly soft.

There was not much else he could think to do, if he could not force himself home nor manage even a mouthful of his food. He took his fork in one hand, while the other rested on his lap, and resolved himself to pushing his meal loosely around on the plate, so at the very least it would look as if he had tried it when his plate was finally taken away.

It was not much longer after, though it felt as if it must have been hours, that Amos began to feel as if he'd fall asleep right there on the table, resting his head on one hand, out of boredom as much as weariness. He pressed his hands against his eyes, and let them rest there, though did not shut his eyes and only stared absent-mindedly at the dim cover of his hands, which did a poor job at blocking out the lamplight.

The table shifted, and Amos looked up at the man now sitting across from him, apparently having brought himself, uninvited, to the table, much to Amos' poorly hidden frustration. The man wore dark clothes, which matched his dark hair, and had unceremoniously dropped his hat onto the table, where it now lay uncomfortably close to Amos' own space.

"You eating?" He said, and Amos did not take it as a question. He shrugged, and gave the man some indistinctive response, which turned out to be more of a mutter, for he had not spoken to anyone for quite a long while, and his voice had grown unaccustomed to the use. He cleared his throat and pushed his plate to the middle of the table, looking at his own hands rather than the man across from him. It was ill-mannered, as he often was, but it seemed to serve as enough of an answer.

"Frank Amos," He said, looking very closely at Amos' face, much to his discomfort. "That you?"

Amos did not respond immediately; he suddenly felt he would much rather be anywhere but here. He suppressed a sigh, and turned to level his gaze with the man across from him, looking at his face rather than his eyes. "What do you want?" He said, as civilly as he could manage, which is to say not very.

"Got a job for you," The man leant forward on the table, as though sharing a dark secret — which, by the circumstances, would not be so unlikely. "Good one, think you'll like it. There's been a murder,"

Amos struggled to look past his immediate irritation at the man's assumption, but said nothing of it. "And you want me to find your suspect." He said instead, an assumption of his own rather than a question.

The man nodded and leaned back in his chair, looking quite proud of himself. He smiled, though it did not look at all genuine, and Amos immediately did not like the look of his face; the expression seemed as if it could only be at the expense of some other poor fellow, though there was no one else there but him.

"Y'think I want him taken out for supper?" He said, quite nastily. "Nothin' else you do. Don't look so sad about it," He added afterwards, which Amos found puzzling, before he found his expression had been set in a deep frown; he forced his face to relax, which only served to make his jaw ache strangely, and he could not quite get rid of the discontented crease in his brow.

He had no particular desire to take the man up on his offer, but he thought of disagreeing, and found he could not think of any sensible alternative. So instead he only sat in silence for a long moment, considering his options, of which there were very little, and trying to ignore his mounting discomfort when the man only kept studying his face; he found it rather unsettling, nothing good could come of it.

Finally he sat back in his own chair and issued a long, suffering sigh, but gave a resigned nod and said only, "Who is it?"

"A man, by the name of Edward Jensen, so I have heard," The man said, looking horridly proud. "Killed some poor man in his own home, shot him right in the head. Three times," He added, with an odd amount of excitement. "And he went off running, the coward."

Amos noted the venom in the way he spat out the last word with mild interest, but kept quiet. He had already now begun to resign himself to his role, yet again, though was beginning to feel quite sick of it, and himself, before he had even set off. Though he was much sicker of the way the man sitting across from him looked so proud at each of his own words, and of the ugly way he smiled, though that may just have been his face. Amos allowed himself a hidden smile.

"Reward's a thousand. Five hundred now, the rest'll come when you bring me his head," Said the man, with a cruel laugh. Amos would very much have liked to shut him up himself, but he stayed resolutely still. The man reached across the table with one hand, open as if in invitation, but it was clear he had no intention of being refused. "We got a deal?"

"Yep." Amos said, without much enthusiasm, and grimaced when he was eventually forced to shake the man's hand. He had a particularly uncomfortable grip, and Amos pulled away as quickly as he could manage, unceremoniously wiping his hand on his waistcoat immediately afterwards. The man seemed satisfied enough, though he looked at Amos with an odd sort of quality in his expression, as though he had secured himself a sort of prize. He left shortly after, leaving the money on the table, not before giving Amos a terribly insincere string of 'goodbye' and 'good luck', and patting him quite harshly on the shoulder as he left.

Amos was then alone, though he felt no better for it; he allowed his head to drop into his hands, and gave a rather long-suffering sigh.

"Fuckin'...twat," He muttered, but his heart was not in it, and although he wanted nothing to do with the man or the killer so apparently precious to him, he had already begun to plan his journey — first to the next town over, then to wherever the rumours would take him. If he did not leave now, he might never make the trip at all, and all the alternatives he could find were unpleasant, even more so now with that rat of a man inevitably waiting and watching for his every move.

So he let himself sit for a brief moment longer, and then snatched the coins up from the table and turned for the door, leaving his cold plate for some other poor sod to clean away.

First / Previous / Next

#hoping you can see the izzy hands influence in that last amos bit #that wasnt entirely on purpose but i find it funny #thinking about izzy a lot = accidentally throwing his mannerisms into my writing. apparently #anyways #im enjoying putting jensen in Situations #you get me #how did i tag that last chapter again #oc tag #oc: jensen #oc: amos #cowboy oc #yipppeeee #< me every time i get to post something about anything #ket writes

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feelo-fick · 6 months

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I haven’t watched either of the shows however I am lowkey invested in that forbiddenwish ship thingy you keep reblogging stuff for (I am in fact, also only seeing it because you’re reblogging it. Thanks for that, though that was likely not your intention, lol) aghgdfh they seem great

HAHAHA OH MY GOD IVE BEEN SPREADING PROPOGANDA LETS GO!!!

would it make you feel better if i let you know i havent watched a SINGLE episode of either of the shows as well

I DONT GO HERE. I DONT GO TO ADVENTURETIME SCHOOL IM NOT FAMILIAR WITH MOST OF THE LORE. IM NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. AND YET..............

IM SO GLAD I COULD DRAG YOU INTO THIS THING THAT IVE BEEN DRAGGED INTO BY SOMEONE ELSE. the domino effect continues.......

#im so happy to be the one who spreads the prohibited wish infection #i also find it funny how you said forbidden JABSJAHSA #anyways pleasure doing business with you anon i hope you enjoy it because this phase may or may not last a w h i l e

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gxlden-angels · 1 year

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the only person who was actually right about the world and human nature was Max striner everyone else is a fucking moron

Striner? I hardly know 'er!

Anyways, I'm not a philosophy expert. I'm just some guy. I like the egoist belief that there isn't a universal moral truth. I like the absurdist belief that, because nothing matters, we should be radically sincere. I like the christian belief in a place without suffering after this life. I like the Universal Random Number Generator idea my therapist and I talk about

All of them have their flaws though. Egoism gets used to condemn social movements and civil rights advocacy. Absurdism and the RNG can create a sense of existential dread and a loss of motivation. Christianity encourages the loss of identity and free will

I'm just some psych student with a weird ass therapist that understands my weird ass brain. He encouraged me to look into absurdism since I took a class on absurdist literature my freshman year of college and he said I might enjoy looking into the actual philosophy. And I do! At least a lot of it! I like the idea of a chaotic universe and us humans trying our best to control it. I like the idea of letting that go and living authentically instead of with a direct purpose. There's chaos and mayhem and entropy and I'm just here to react to it. And I can react in ways that makes others happier if I wanted just because I can

Egoism/egotism feels too disconnected from the human need to connect to me. It traps me into that feeling that doing something good for someone is selfish if you're doing it to feel good. I'm actively working to get out of that spiral Christianity put me in now

I don't know, though, anon. I'm just some college student with an ex-christian tumblr blog and a lot of trauma. I like to believe there's some Universe-sized Abstract Computer with a random number generator that causes the chaos we call home. I skim wiki pages and reddit posts and decided if I want to engage any further/look for textbooks. I could possibly be looking at the wrong page about the wrong philosophy. I'm honestly just on this earthly plane for the bit

#if y'all are into philosophy I encourage y'all to look into it still just because it's interesting #As I understand it egoism/egotism is the belief that you only control one's own actions and awareness #and that all actions done by one's self is meant to benefit their own well-being #For me it sends me into a guilt spiral of worrying I'm not a good person because I feel good making others happy #because that would be selfish and that would make me bad actually #all of which I know if black and white thinking and we're all a little selfish sometimes. it's good for us #Im just not at a place where I can really dive into that #Im a fan of absurdism because of my commitment to the bit #It's essentially the idea that the universe is chaotic and life doesn't matter/there's no purpose to life #And you can respond by finding a higher power/religion/purpose. endgame. or live life pushing against the chaos #Modern absurdism gives further options but I haven't quite learned enough to fully explain them yet #And given the nature of my blog I obviously didn't like religion nor am I secretly a ghost #So I like the idea of having no actual purpose I have to follow (like being christ like)#but this belief is also not for everyone. it's known to cause existential dread and crises #I loved absurdist literature though. My favorite is Beckett's plays they're so fuckin funny in a dark way #I love finding humor and committing to the bit in times of stress. That's essentially what this blog is lol #also there's 750 of y'all now that's fucking wild #anyways I hope y'all enjoyed my ramblings about philosophy since it's been a bit of a growing hyperfixation lol #don't take this as a conversion attempt I actively am saying don't look into these things unless you enjoy philosophy #If y'all really like my absurdism rambles tho I'll write more about it but only if y'all ask. i'm not tryna influence y'all lol #ex christian #religious trauma #ask tag

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ieatsmallorphansnamedtom · 1 year

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Preference: technically none but game wise I much prefer the dudes in this game they are just silly little guys- but I love the girls too don’t get me wrong

I am a huge theater kid who loves tragedies and dramas not a huge musical theater kid but I DEFINITELY know some broadway soundtracks

I listen to music religiously and cry when I eat good food because it makes me feel happy to eat good food

I like living in the middle of no where because it’s dark and quiet at night but I do enjoy seeing the city for fun little things- like a mall or a bookstore :)

I am a recovering emo /j

And I play video games like I will die if I stop

Hiya! Thanks for your patience in waiting for this to come out. I'm trying to ease myself back into writing so I thought this would be fun. :)

Anyways, I match you with...

Elliott!

I think the elephant in the room here is the mention of your appreciation of theatre. Elliott right with you there in that boat. He's a lover of all forms of storytelling, and with that all genres, so he could definitely get behind your love of tragedy. You two will cry over a good film, too.

Elliott's also a musician, so the whole appreciation of good music is right up his alley. While he prefers a more classical approach to the funky sound waves, he'll come to appreciate your taste in music, too (just please give him some time if it's something like metal. He won't hate on it it's just wayy out of his range /lh).

Oh, and he's a total snob for food, so expect to only get the Good Shit.

Again, he can relate to the likes of living in a remote(-ish) area. It's only him and Will-ol'-Willy that reside on the beach, and let's be honest if the game maps actually lined up there would be a much bigger difference in distance from beach to town (even more so in my HCs).

You mentioned leaving your home to go to a bookstore, which is another big-ticket Elliott item. You two will head out and just browse around the books for a while. He'll pick out his favourites from the shelf (the same ones he gets every time) and show them off to you. You'll end up taking a whole stack home so he can research for his next up-coming novel.

He's also a fan of the mall, believe it or not. He's got quite the eye for fashion (at least in his genre) and always knows the best stores to go to. Him and Haley have bonded over that, and sometimes if you're friends with them her and Emily will come along!

Video games aren't really his forte, but he's willing to try them out. Maybe enlist Sebastian or Abigail to help you out. They'll be willing to do it, just as long as you can keep Elliott from going on one of his rambles (and maybe spare them a cool thing or two).

As someone who knows near-nothing about emos, on the chance you were one (just taking into consideration the '/j'), he probably finds it a little weird. Still, Elliott's Elliott, and it's one of his goals to come to appreciate all things in life - even the things he doesn't know as well. Probably goes on a tangent about your 'recovery' if you phrase is like that. Lol.

#ieatsmallorphansnamedtom #sdv matchmaking #swearing tw #food tw #i really don't have a good grasp on what emo is #nor the /j tone tag #im /nm /lh /pos /gen about that btw #I find it funny I don't know what it is #ANYways hope you enjoyed!#I'm going to close up matchups after I post this but I do want to say (and I'll say it in the post):#If there's someone you don't want a matchup with (for whatever reason) let me know #if you've already submitted a matchup dw yours will be fine

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hoxooster · 2 years

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sorry if this is weird or anything but finding out that you're a trans man made me immediately feel so much safer in the payday community. it's probably because i'm transmasc as well so i automatically feel safer around other trans people than cis people, but also FPS games have a reputation for having a lot of bigoted assholes in their fanbase so i was worried it'd be the same with pd but not really!! and it makes me so pleased. look at us! one of our biggest bloggers is a trans guy! ain't that nice. anyways just. thank you for being so pleasant especially to newbies. it's really appreciated. have a good day/night/whateverthefuck

No, no! It isn't weird! My ma's a teacher at a Middle/High School and she's had students over the years who became more comfortable in her class once they found out that I'm trans. I've even had private conversations with them to help them through their issues, when they ask for my input. It's a comfort to know that somewhere is a safe space, because someone else is open about being in the LGBTQIA+ community and is accepted. Especially when it's in the video game sphere.

'Cause I've been there. I've had instances where I was accused of being a 12-14 year old boy (I prefer these by a loooooooong mile). Other times when people thought that I was a girl, got creepy, and went, "Where do you live?" (I shudder to think if I'll ever encounter someone who has a trans-fetish. I've seen 'em on Tumbles over the years, and I really don't want that energy pointed at me when I'm trying to game. Or at all.) And even worse times when I've had revulsion directed my way. It hurts less when people kick me from a lobby or leave mine over it, 'cause at least I don't have to listen to their remarks. I get enough bullshit and ostracization from my own family--I don't need more from randos.

However, all of that being said, most people tend not to care and are pretty chill. Hell, I met my best friend through PD:TH, and he was 1,000% unfazed by my being trans. I still have that conversation saved, because I had honestly never experienced such kindness to me coming out to someone before. I have since then, but he was the first. And to think that it all stemmed from my great aunt rudely outing me to him, 'cause she hates me now for being trans, despite us being very close when I was a kid.

You win some and you lose some, I guess. Not much of a loss considering all that I've gained, though.

So, yes. I'm nice to everyone, 'cause ffffffffuuuuuuuuuck, have I been there, dude. I've gotten shit over my playstyle, my builds, my choice in masks and guns and heisters and difficulties and friends, and even for just existing. And after all that bullshit and pain and annoyance, I decided, "Ya know what? Someone's gotta say 'no' and bring some fuckin' joy to people's lives. I'm here, so I'll do it." 'Cause bein' nice takes just as much time and energy as it does to be an asshole, and I'd rather be nice. I may not have had good vibes directed at me in the past, but by golly am I gonna make sure that you guys get some here.

I'm glad that you're part of the Crew, mate. Stay safe, have fun, and keep those helmets flying!

#ask hoxooster a question #long post warning #personal stories #The funny thing about Jenice trying to out me is that Wolfee couldn't really understand her.#He thought that my name was 'Walter' at first which is funny 'cause that's one of my nicknames.#There's a CSI: Las Vegas episode that deals with trans people so that's where I got the nickname.#*Waves a hand around.* Anyway yeah. Peeps can be dicks in team games.#But don't let that stop you from having fun.#'Cause you never know. You might meet some of the coolest people you never would have otherwise.#It's just like everything else. Gotta put yourself out there to find good returns.#And this is a safe space 'cause we work together to MAKE it so. :3 #So I hope that you enjoy your time here!

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