#john is very kind

[fictionallymeg]

john marston; stitch me up, buttercup

a/n; mfw i go into a coma after every post, anyways this has been collecting dust for ages and i don't know why i didn't post it? figs def helped me write it tho. props. I FORGOT TO MENTION ty for also being an awesome photographer @thisfanisgonesorry hugs!!

cw; john takes care of you after a cougar attack, he's a bit of a grumpy pants. fluff.

wc; 1730

You rested your head on Arthur’s back as your arms stayed wrapped tight around his waist, trying to not wince or groan as he rode you into camp, Charles close behind. Blood was coating your entire lower half, a good portion of your pant legs being ripped away from your body. Camp was getting closer, you could tell, the familiar scenery that surrounded your temporary home becoming visible to you.

Shifting slightly, you lifted your head off of Arthur, who had been silent the entire ride back besides the occasional panic, bickering, and checking if you were alright. You groaned at the movement.

“We nearly there?” You mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear you. The sunlight peeked through the trees, almost blinding you entirely.

Arthur exhaled. “Almost, you alright?”

“I think so.” He nodded, Charles coming closer to the two of you to speak.

His smile was sincere, trying to cover the obvious concern on his face. “How’re you feeling, y/n?”

“Like hell, but I’ll be ‘right.”

“John won’t like hearing about this,” he said, raising his brows and looking over to Arthur.

In response, Arthur chuckled, the vibrations sending shivers as you rested your head on his back once again. “He ain’t gotta find out.”

Raising a brow, you took a mental note of the severe pain you were in, extremely doubting Arthur’s words. “Not find out that I’m covered in blood? Really? Camp ain’t blind.”

He nodded, fully aware, though he didn’t say anything. Probably exchanged a glance or two with Charles.

You closed your eyes, the ambience of camp coming into earshot. Probably the usual bickering and people crowding around the campfire, like usual. Made you wonder how they’d feel when they saw you. “I don’t want no trouble,” you said. “Just wanna get some rest.”

Arthur mumbled something in agreement, as Charles moved in front, probably to shield whoever was around. You lifted your head, acknowledging your surroundings. Everyone was either at the campfire, playing poker, or doing chores. It was then that you noticed John tending to the horses, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide your quite obvious injury.

It seemed neither Charles or Arthur could, either. The minute they both went to go hitch their horses, he immediately noticed, stopping the two of them, which included you on the back, dead in their tracks. Whether he noticed the blood or you first, who knows, but he didn’t look pleased. The hay bale he was holding hit the ground with a ‘thump’ as he dropped it, storming over. Tears began to form in your waterline as you turned your head away, knowing you wouldn’t be able to bear his reaction.

Charles tried to make conversation with him, meanwhile you sobbed quietly as Arthur poorly tried to comfort you. “Shh, we can’t have him knowin’ ‘bout this.” He knew there wasn’t a lot he could do, but he was trying his damn best.

Eventually, he sighed, as John approached the two of you. You turned your head back to face him, the tears streaming down your face as you were drenched in your own blood. He looked pained to see you.

“Y/n? Who did this?” he snapped, his raspy voice making it all the more intimidating, as he stared holes through his metaphorical brother.

“We went on a hunt, as you know, and, well.. it didn’t go all too well.” He wasn’t wrong. There was a cougar worth good quality that the three of you were set on killing before anyone else could. You each split up your own ways, your dumbass going the way towards the predator. Before you could even defend yourself, it attacked you, leaving you practically near death as the two men tried to shoot it, but it simply left. “Cougar, it was. The one we wanted.”

John immediately reached for you, helping you to dismount Arthur’s horse, as he wrapped his arm around you, supporting your weight because he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to walk anywhere alone. “Did you kill it?” he asked, glancing around to notice no one else was nearby, taking a few steps away as he glanced at you, frowning.

“Well.. No.”

His eyes widened as his brows raised, looking absolutely gobsmacked. “You’re fucking kidding me? Y/n nearly DIED and you didn’t KILL THE FUCKING THING?!”

“John-”

“No, no! That’s the most bullshit I ever heard outta you!” he said, raising his voice and throwing his free hand up. “Someone nearly got killed, and you’re just gonna let the fucker live? You’re outta your GODDAMN MIND!” 

Hearing the commotion, some of the camp rushed over, including Dutch. “What the hell’s going on?” 

“Three of ‘em went hunting’, not only did Y/n nearly get killed but they didn’t even kill anything! Dumb bastards can nearly get a girl killed but not bring any game!” John yelled, the music from Dutch’s monograph in the faint background.

“Sort it out, will you? I shouldn’t have to parent grown men,” Dutch plainly said, not paying you any mind, and walked off, the rest of camp lingering to see what happens next. Hosea walked after him, most likely to have a talk about the interaction that just happened.

Now that he was gone, John took the opportunity to get closer to Arthur’s face, speaking in a hushed tone. “I don’t care if you nearly die doin’ it, but you’re both goin’ back out there and you’re not coming back till it’s fuckin’ dead.” To which he simply nodded, said something to Charles about ‘leaving these two be,’ and they both turned, riding out of camp and back into the wilderness they just returned from. You could hear Charles mock Arthur, saying ‘John ain’t gotta find out,’ as they did so.

He turned you towards his tent, slowly walking the two of you there, enjoying the silence, but most of all, your presence. Whether he’d like to admit it or not, he knows you could’ve died out there, and he’s grateful to have you. When people would approach, asking what was wrong, he’d hush them and say he had it covered. As the two of you approached his tent, he opened it, sitting you down on his cot, taking the moment to really take in your state.

“John, he was hurt too. You didn’t have to do that,” you said, weakly putting a hand out to grab his wrist.

He took note, sitting down on the bed next to you, staring into your eyes as he wiped the tears and blood off of your face. “He’ll manage, love. I’m worried about you. I mean, look ‘atchu. Still pretty, of course, but beyond fucked up.” Reaching to grab a box, he gave you a peck on the lips, opening it and grabbing out a few items, setting them down on his lap. “I’m gonna have to stitch you up, that alright?” You nodded, as he grabbed a cloth, dunking it in a bucket of water, as he cleaned the blood off of you in a nearly tender way. “You’re gonna be alright, I promise.” John’s voice that was yelling a few minutes ago had quietened down to soothe you, occasionally kissing you.

Afterwards, he picked up a different rag, dousing it in whiskey before using it to disinfect your wound. When you’d clench your teeth, or ball your hand into a fist, he’d notice, mumbling quiet words of praise

You smiled softly, looking down at the deep wounds. “You don’t have to do this, y’know.”

“‘Course I do,” he grinned, in an almost joking way, as he reached for a needle and a thin string. “Had to do this to myself, you’re lucky I’m a professional now.”

“You should be a doctor.”

“Hell no,” John responded, laughing for a moment, starting to stitch your wounds up. Occasionally, you’d make a squeamish face or grit your teeth together, to which he spoke in an attempt to comfort but also lighten the mood. “Got mauled by wolves ages ago. Hurts like a bitch, don’t it?” “You don’t say,” you commented in response. You remembered hearing briefly about this, but most of the camp agreed to not bring it up. He chuckled quietly, but didn’t comment.

John’s dark eyes softened as he continued to take care of you, humming to himself as he cleaned your wounds and stitched them. The warm lighting from the lantern shining on him in just the right way, and when he finally finished, he sighed.

“How’s that?” he smiled, putting everything back in the box and setting it aside once again.

“Still feel like hell, but better.”

He nodded, muttering a ‘good, good’ as he got up, grabbing a pair of his pants from his wardrobe, setting them down on the bed. “Wear those instead.”

Instead of trying to argue, you did just that, casually changing in front of your lover, even though he promised to not look, standing in a corner with his back to you. When you gave him the clear, he got back on the cot, laying down and tapping next to him. “You should rest.”

“In your tent?”

“Yes, in my tent. I don’t bite.”

“Bet those wolves did.”

He seemed taken aback by your joke, but laughed anyway. “I’m being serious. You need sleep.” You gave in at the promising offer of cuddling up next to John, as you laid in his arms, his hands running through your hair. 

“John?”

“Hm?” he said, looking down at you.

“Know I’ve said it a hundred times, but you didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

In the moment, he brought a finger to your lips. “Shh, let me feel proud, buttercup.” To which you nodded, and the two of you cuddled in peace.

Suddenly, he spoke up, breaking the silence.“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

“Really?” You whispered, looking up at him, as he looked head over heels for you.

“Yeah. Even when you’re all bloodied up, ya still look perfect.” He mumbled, pausing briefly, before continuing his love drunken ramble. “Just glad to have you, that’s all. Happy nothing worse happened.” You snuggled into his touch at his sweet words, as you dozed off in his arms, knowing that even if you didn’t get the cougar, you instead had John Marston all to yourself.

[pondanimal]

marq's tips for capturing beetles

these were made bc a friend or two mentioned they were struggling to get their faces distinct and so i offered my #thoughts

you arent a better or worse artist for doing any of this, but if you find any of my observations helpful then yay! that's all

[pricetagged]

I feel like the 141 pitch in and hire a maid service for their Captain as a Valentine's treat.

He gets home. He knows someone is already here, but when he sees you, he rolls with it.

Hair pinned back, apron pressed neatly and tied in a bow. Slight damp patch from where you'd been leaning over the sink. Tells you to stop fussing with the dishes, that's what the dishwasher's for.

He's tracked mud into the hallway, boots are scuffed and dirty. You'd be better off greeting him properly (happy, kneeling) with the scrubbing brushes and boot polish.

(Someone better tell him you were just hired for the day. He's already clearing out space in the wardrobe and googling joint bank accounts).

[mumblesplash]

actually now that i think about it malevolent might have one of if not my favorite execution ever of the ‘two characters have to share one body’ premise. like in theory i’m a huge fan of that trope but in practice very few stories do it in a way i find interesting

[spider-mask09]

i love it when actors/creators/directors etc are too aware of ther fanbase. It’s so jarring and funny like NOO WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT. Joseph DeLage referencing jaylex shippers in the marble hornets commentary extras, Lee Majdoub being a ride or die stobotnik shipper and calling it ‘toxic yaoi/old man yaoi’, Evan Jennings calling Habit fans ‘monsterfuckers’, John Cena reposting Vigilmaker art, WHO TAUGHT YOU GUYS THIS???

[buildoblivion]

i think the reason why thunderbolts works so well is that the team is like 80% legacy heroes/ knock off avengers but they’re all old enough to remember when princess diana died

[windybluebelles]

Bernard Dowd is approximately 15 years old, has just had his allowance cut off, was fired from his job, and is 99% sure that both his best friends are somehow involved in the mob.

(I mean he wasn’t entirely wrong on either front but hey ho, no use dwelling on it)

All this means is that he has no money and no good way to spend his free time as Tim and Darla are always “Busy”

So when he hears of an up and coming crime lord just desperate for new recruits, he jumps on it!

(Guys I swear he’s a good person most of the time, he’s also a teenager who is rude or die and if his besties are involved in the mob who’s to say he shouldn’t be?)

Jason Todd (who was really only mildly desperate for new recruits, thank you very much) takes one look at clearly a child Bernard and immediately turns him down.

Bernard does what everyone else in his generation did and just ignores him and starts following him around everywhere.

Hey! Atleast he doesn’t have a camera and isn’t in a cape!

Jason falls victim to the same thing that Bruce did and realises that Bernard will continue doing what he wants and the only thing he can do is either help him or break his legs. Unfortunately he has a policy against hurting kids, even bitchy annoying ones with stupid sunglasses.

Several years go by,

He no longer has those friends, he doesn’t speak with his parents, and he’s about to enter college. He really doesn’t have time to be one of Hood’s merry men anymore.

He quits the life of crime, accepts his last pay check, and gets given a personal number from his boss.

(Of course they aren’t friends, don’t be silly! Jason is glad to see the stupid kid gone, gone off to civilian life where he’ll never see him again!…)

Bernard starts college, a dual major in Medicine and Cookery cause he hates himself, and almost immediately joins a cult!

…Should he have stayed with the Crime Lord?

Probably! ANYWAY-

Another year or so passes, he leaves the cult, starts dating Timothy Drake-Wayne, eventually finds out his boyfriend is Robin, yadayadayada boringggg

Bernard is at Wayne Manor one day when he hears a voice he never thought he’d hear again.

And then it’s like that spider man meme idk, I can’t write guys I’m so sorry

[cassiasims]

i think a lot about john and ian and their strange, implicit estrangement. it is never explicitly addressed but it is there. blunt going out of his way to say that ian was a good agent but john was a better one. alex always being compared to john despite ian being the man who raised him. ian never telling alex anything about his parents. john never sparing a thought for ian in the snakehead coda. ash being chosen to be the best man at john's wedding and alex's godfather instead of ian. ian being recruited to mi6 straight out of university while john went military and none of it mattering in the end because it was still john who was chosen for the scorpia mission, john who died the hero, john who got blown up and martyred while ian's own death barely registered. you're twentysomething years old and your older brother has just been murdered after being better than you at the one thing you are defined by and you will spend fourteen years raising his son, and none of it will matter. here's a question: why does ian hate being called 'uncle' so much? here's another: can you still be an uncle without a brother?

[persnickety-doodles]

OC Doodles ☺️☺️

While plotting this story, I have to constantly remind myself they can’t really take the train because 1) Mr. Stamford was the son of a railroad mogul, 2) Anne is also Marked (more on that later), and 3) her face is plastered at nearly every train station/major town from SF to the Mississippi River.

[wreathedwith]

From Japan Through John Lennon's Eyes: A Personal Sketchbook

[neostellarjpg]

Omg I love your art, you’re so talented!! I humbly request a drawing of Vriska! and/or John :)

been thinkin about her 2day #vriskapilled

[not-equippedforthis]

also a massive fan of fawx & stallion making watson loveable and equally Bitchy. very underrated aspect of canon i believe. let john watson say fuck

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

The Terror x Maya Angelou

Created for @theterrorbingo prompt: "Wherever thou goest."

[return-of-the-vegetable]

i can't fit all the love i have for you guys into a neat little box, sorry. the wind carries my grief out of your coffins and into my every day life.

[noodles-and-tea]

you single-handedly got me into sherlock holmes lmao- ive been tryin to find new stuff to watch so i just turn on whatever you post about lol

In my defence, he’s just like me fr

[kaiserouo]

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