#peaches duffy

[raysanthology]

Bowie Dove

Gonna start this off by posting a fan favorite for the first OC introduction - my beloved Bowie Dove most commonly known as Bobo. She actually started off as a random sim (hence Bobo, it was literally the first thing that popped into my head in that moment) that I created to fuck around with custom content/mods in my game. But I got so emotionally attached to her and ended up giving her substantial lore and such.

Bobo's just a girl from the Midwest with a drug addiction problem. Her and her brother's (Beau) parents were also addicts, so their grandparents uproot them from their toxic household to try and give them a better life. Their parents being in and out of jail, there was nobody to really take care of Bobo and Beau. Around their late teen/early adulthood years, their grandparents pass away, leaving the house to their grandchildren. Beau and Bobo, along with their friend Peaches, have always been the sort of odd ones out with their poor finances and upbringing. Beau turns to selling drugs from a semi-young age to help bring in finances for their grandparents; the 'friends' Beau has around him also just aren't the best people. As Beau gets older, he just sort of hops from job to job to make money (as well as Bobo) but evidently, getting out of selling drugs isn't easy, and makes a hell of a lot more than minimum wage.

Bobo's morbid curiosity and just bad circumstances overall give her that push to get into drugs. Initially, it's just things like cigarettes and weed, but eventually she starts to turn to harder drugs as a way to cope and interact with others. Peaches starts to get into these things as well. Bobo also starts sleeping around with people more often. In general, her life goes fairly downhill and she starts making a lot of bad decisions.

In short, eventually Beau goes to jail for selling drugs. Getting into this sort of trouble gives him a sort of wake up call, as well as he starts to notice how bad Bobo is getting. Because of their alternate sides of the issue, this causes a bit of a rift/struggle between the two for a while. At some point, Bobo becomes pregnant, and this is when she really realizes how fucked she is and that she needs to clean her life up for good this time.

The timeline of events isn't super clear and things still need to be fledged out, but eventually Beau and Bobo work on repairing their relationship, Peaches and Bobo prepare to help raise Bobo's kid together, and some other friends (who will later be introduced) make their way into the Dove siblings' lives.

Bobo and Peaches have been friends since childhood, in which their friendship eventually blossoms into a committed romance. Not before struggling through their many hardships first.

But that's about it for Bobo lore - I will link her Spotify playlist and Pinterest board and add in some pictures of her I've drawn. Feel free to ask questions or anything!

And on all future posts, I will tag the OCs that that post relates to, so that it will be easier to find information about them :)

[funtimespringscare101]

FINISHED! Here is my Take on the "Eight Horrorbrews to Draw" Challenge! This took longer than I thought but the end result was worth it!

FireStar Peach and the "Fire and Lead" Duo belong to: Me Damsel belongs to: DUFFY/Heyimduffy on Twitter and YouTube CASTLE belongs to: @bluefever MX belongs to: RazzDazzleDoo 2015MARIO Belongs to: Jack Gore/ HogSweeped on Twitter Mr L belongs to: Mr. Pixel Productions on YouTube and Twitter The Baker belongs to: Scrubb (original concept) and finished by NeigePastel GB (The Golden Boy) belongs to: Marco Antonio Original Template:

[heleniad]

She was born from an egg, a daughter of the gods, divinely fair, a pearl, drop-dead gorgeous, beautiful, a peach, a child of grace, a stunner, in her face the starlike sorrows of immortal eyes. Who looked there, loved.

She won the heart of every man she saw. They stood in line, sighed, knelt, beseeched Be Mine. She married one, but every other mother’s son swore to be true to her till death, enchanted by the perfume of her breath, her skin’s celebrity.

So when she took a lover, fled, was nowhere to be seen, her side of the bed unslept in, cold, the small coin of her wedding ring left on the bedside table like a tip, the wardrobe empty of the drama of her clothes, it was War.

A thousand ships — on every one a thousand men, each heaving at an oar, each with her face before his stinging eyes, her name tattooed upon the muscle of his arm, a handkerchief she’d dropped once for his lucky charm, each seeing her as a local girl made good, the girl next door, a princess with the common touch, queen of his heart, pin-up, superstar, the heads of every coin he’d tossed, the smile on every note he’d bet at cards — bragged and shoved across a thousand miles of sea.

Meanwhile, lovely she lay high up in a foreign castle’s walls, clasped in a hero’s brawn, loved and loved and loved again, her cries like the bird of calamity’s, drifting down to the boys at the gates who marched now to the syllables of her name.

Beauty is fame. Some said she turned into a cloud and floated home, falling there like rain, or tears, upon her husband’s face. Some said her lover woke to find her gone, his sword and clothes gone too, before they sliced a last grin in his throat.

Some swore they saw her smuggled on a boat dressed as a boy, rowed to a ship which slid away at dusk, beckoned by the finger of the moon. Some vowed that they were in the crowd that saw her hung, stared up at her body as it swung there on the creaking rope, and noticed how the black silk of her dress clung to her form, a stylish shroud.

Her maid, who loved her most, refused to say one word to anyone at any time or place, would not describe one aspect of her face or tell one anecdote about her life and loves.

But lived alone and kept a little bird inside a cage.

— CAROL ANN DUFFY

[hsboo03]

Based on Eddbedandeddy's story "Fast Times at Peach Creek High".

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46515541/chapters/117128146

Chapter 1/6 (AO3) I made this little drawing, I was aware of the whole series and I liked how Edd and Eddy's relationship was going after Ed's separation, the conflicts, the doubts and how every little decision It has a reason to be. Thanks for keeping the EENE fandom active and for such a wonderful story. 🍓🌸

So, as it were, Ed had been the only thing keeping them friends. As in, just friends, mind you- Eddy would be his best friend until he was decomposing in the ground and nourishing the worms, three amigos or not. But they found themselves filling the quiet left by Ed’s absence with a series of sloppy make-out sessions- starting with one that Eddy himself had initiated during their late-night viewing of a Dario Argento film.

At one point Double Dee said aloud that he found the story to be unengaging."Intriguing as you find the soundtrack, I fail to see what distinguishes this film from Ed's B-movies."He grabbed the remote- Eddy tried to wrestle it back from him. “Give it back! You have no taste!”

[terfywho]

From Mrs Tiresias

by Carol Ann Duffy

*

All I know is this:

he went out for his walk a man

and came home female.

Out the back gate with his stick,

the dog;

wearing his gardening kecks,

an open-necked shirt,

and a jacket in Harris tweed I'd patched at the elbows myself.

Whistling.

He liked to hear

the first cuckoo of spring

then write to The Times.

I'd usually heard it

days before him

but I never let on.

I'd heard one that morning

while he was asleep;

just as I heard,

at about 6 p.m.,

a faint sneer of thunder up in the woods

and felt

a sudden heat

at the back of my knees.

He was late getting back.

I was brushing my hair at the mirror

and running a bath

when a face

swam into view

next to my own.

The eyes were the same.

But in the shocking V of the shirt were breasts.

When he uttered my name in his woman's voice I passed out

*

Life has to go on.

I put it about that he was a twin

and this was his sister

come down to live

while he himself

was working abroad.

And at first I tried to be kind;

blow-drying his hair till he learnt to do it himself,

lending him clothes till he started to shop for his own,

sisterly, holding his soft new shape in my arms all night.

Then he started his period.

One week in bed.

Two doctors in.

Three painkillers four times a day.

And later

a letter

to the powers that be

demanding full-paid menstrual leave twelve weeks per year.

I see him still,

his selfish pale face peering at the moon

through the bathroom window.

The curse, he said, the curse.

Don't kiss me in public,

he snapped the next day,

I don't want folk getting the wrong idea.

It got worse.

After the split I would glimpse him

out and about,

entering glitzy restaurants

on the arms of powerful men -

though I knew for sure

there'd be nothing of that

going on

if he had his way -

or on TV

telling the women out there

how, as a woman himself,

he knew how we felt.

His flirt's smile.

The one thing he never got right

was the voice.

A cling peach slithering out from its tin.

I gritted my teeth.

And this is my lover, I said,

the one time we met

at a glittering ball

under the lights,

among tinkling glass,

and watched the way he stared

at her violet eyes,

at the blaze of her skin,

at the slow caress of her hand on the back of my neck;

and saw him picture

her bite,

her bite at the fruit of my lips,

and hear

my red wet cry in the night

as she shook his hand

saying How do you do:

and I noticed then his hands, her hands,

the clash of their sparkling rings and their painted nails.

*

@rad-by-nature @drowsy-hopes-and-dreams thanks guys for encouraging this!

[honestlydarkprincess]

for your ask game: 1, 17, and 30 😌💞

(also you better not fall asleep in your chair again or i’m gonna be mad, love youuuu 🥰)

JACE MY LOVE!!! There is a VERY good chance I'm going to fall asleep in my chair again 😭 you'll probably get a drunk voice note about it hehehe, don't be mad you love me too much 🥰 love you!

1. have you ever wished on a shooting star?

yes i have! i can't remember what for but i love wishing on shooting stars, wish chips, at 11:11, etc. like I don't know if I really believe it's gonna make it happen but i think it's cute

17. favourite song?

OOOOOOOO very difficult question, i'm definitely like, a mood listener? when it comes to music so even tho i love a song or an artist it's not always the vibe i'm going for, so picking a favourite is so hard!!

let me just give you 3 songs i'm obsessed with right now:

howling - noah kahan

forever drunk - peach prc

solas - james duffy (i'm relearning piano because i WILL force myself to learn this song)

30. ask anything you want!!

what would you like to ask me my love? 🥰

random asks!

[brn1029]

Time for your Rock Report

HALO Films has announced a biopic based on the life of the iconic late AC/DC frontman Bon Scott. Production of the movie, called The Kid From Harvest Road, is expected to begin in early 2025. The project aims to capture the essence of Scott's early life in Fremantle in a fictionalized narrative set in the 1960s, according to the Australian producers. "Through careful storytelling and attention to detail, The Kid From Harvest Road can offer viewers a reimagined glimpse into the life of a young Bon Scott, while also capturing the spirit of the times in which he lived. It's an approach that allows for creative interpretation while still honouring the essence of Scott's journey," HALO Films announced on its website. Young Australian actor Lee Tiger Halley will play the role of Scott. The biopic's script is co-written by Stephen Belowsky and director David Vincent Smith. Tim Duffy is the producer. Ian Hale and Nicko Mezzino will executive produce for HALO Films and Protocol Pictures, respectively. The producers urged "anyone to share their stories of the time and help develop the rich tapestry in this love letter to Fremantle."

Bruce Springsteen and Noah Kahan are set to headline the upcoming Sea.Hear.Now festival, scheduled to take place in Asbury Park, New Jersey, on September 14 and 15. Kahan is set to headline on Saturday (September 14), with the Black Crowes, 311, the Revivalists, the Hives, Grace Potter, Sierra Ferrell, Peaches, Guster, Ziggy Alberts, and Robert Randolph Band also on the lineup. Springsteen and the E Street band will headline on Sunday (September 15). The Gaslight Anthem, Trey Anastasio Band, Norah Jones, Kook & the Gang, Action Bronson, Gorgol Bordello, Larkin Poe, and Joy Oladokun will also perform that day. The two-day event will feature more than 25 artists across three stages, art installations, and a professional surf contest.

Weezer, the Killers, Foo Fighters, Sheryl Crow, Greta Van Fleet, and the Breeders performed at the festival last year.

[mayolfederico]

Carol Ann Duffy - Beautiful/Bellissima

Carol Ann Duffy Da  Feminine Gospels (2002) BEAUTIFUL She was born from an egg, a daughter of the gods, divinely fair, a pearl, drop-dead gorgeous, beautiful, a peach, child of grace, a stunner, in her face the starlike sorrows of immortal eyes. Who looked there, loved. She won the heart of every man she saw. They stood in line, sighed, knelt, beseeched Be Mine. She married one,but every…

[taste-in-music]

Into The Unknown - The Blasting Company / Anyone Else But You - The Moldy Peaches / we fell in love in october - girl in red / So Long - Maya Hawke / Canyon Moon - Harry Styles / Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart - Mitski / Syrup & Honey - Duffy / Pale September - Fiona Apple / Winnebago - Samia / invisible string - Taylor Swift / Man of Weakness (Acoustic) - Your Smith / Sarah - Alex G / Holocene - Bon Iver / Death with Dignity - Sufjan Stevens / Let’s Fall in Love for the Night (1964) - FINNEAS / Smoke Signals - Phoebe Bridgers / How to disappear - Lana Del Rey / and many more...

autumn frolic

[nellygwyn]

The King didn't sign but a scribe with a fair hand wrote it all down and the King thought the men in the meadow dogs for taking the shine off the crown; afterwards fumed, fitted, foamed at the mouth. Those from the North rode north, not believing a word they'd heard from the weasel King who'd tax the fart from your arse, razored their falchions.

Nice meadow, Runnymede; where an English oak made a mirror of shade, next to the Thames, where a knight could kick off his boots to paddle in clover. A horse lifting its tail to crap. A bishop pissing into the river. The King like a chesspiece, wooden, white. A pawn of a page from the distant castle. Widows and nuns took up their threads, wove the scene into tapestry - but not those mongrels rutting under the tree.

Green and gold for the smock of the pretty page; rust for his hair. His face pink as the peach he passed to the King on a pewter plate - his life nothing to no one, then, or now, except he was there, like the swans, the dragonflies, the wasp circling the sucked, chucked pit of a drupe. Weft and warp - for here comes the bit where the boss baron stands to intone the grave nuances of the grievances.... 'Quod Anglicana ecclesia libera sit'

Now, I was a luckless loutess of a troubadour, offstage, as it were, mending my lute on the riverbank - I kenned not then that my posthumous fame would rest in 'Anonymous' - and I earwigged in as those wadded counts laid it down to the King. 'And another thing... 'And another thing....' The field had filled with tents, servants, banners, mounts, and, being the girl of a villein who'd died unfree, I reckoned this business had nowt to do with me.

'Earls and Barons are not to be amerced save by their peers'....though I tuned my ears at 'Una mensura vini through all our Kingdom' 'And one measure of ale.' I'd been on the road for a year and a bard likes to guarantee the size of her beer. But when I heard 'To no one will we sell, to no one will we deny or delay, right or justice' I thought Too Bloody Right. I strummed in key. The words sharpened the air, like liberty.

'Anonymous' by Carol Ann Duffy (from her collection of poems 'Sincerity')

This poem is about the signing of the Magna Carta by King John of England on the 15th June 1215 at Runnymede water meadow, told from the perspective of a lowly female troubadour.

[funtimespringscare101]

Found this MX HorrorBrew character called Damsel on YouTube recently and she has been in my mind ever since, so I drew her interacting with FireStar because Princess Peach/Toadstool creepypastas unite to kick ass.

FireStar Peach belongs to: Me

Damsel belongs to: DUFFY on YouTube/heyimduffy on Twitter. If you want to know more about her, lucky you! DUFFY made a video about her!

Conversation transcript: FireStar: Ok, How bad do you want me to fireball the giant prick? Damsel: Very, but I wouldn’t because he might throw a goddamn tantrum again. FireStar: Honey, I deal with Ultra M everyday, MX is just the guy who owes his soul to him. Damsel, switching to her actual British accent: Can you at least help Lucas first, the poor lad? FireStar: On it.

[levithestripper]

Modern AU! VDL Gang Headcanons

✩ Masterlist! ✩

✩ Warnings: None! ✩

✩ Included characters are: Arthur Morgan, Bill Williamson, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, John Marston, Kieran Duffy, Lenny Summers, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Micah Bell, Sean MacGuire ✩

✩ Taglist: @reddeadrevolutionn, @leech-in-a-peach, @floup-doodles, @mesangelique, @the-1-sin-bin ✩

✩ If you want to be added to a taglist, fill this out! ✩

✩ Length: 1.4k || Read on Ao3 ✩

✩ A/N: me, posting rdr2 content two days in a row? what is this, march again? since i combined day 8 + 9, i wrote some headcanons instead for a change of pace! ✩

If Arthur had access to today’s music and entertainment, he’d unironically really enjoy traditionally ‘girly’ pop music. No, he doesn’t give a shit what anyone has to say about his music taste. He enjoys what he enjoys, and he’s not ashamed about it.

He absolutely loves old TV shows. Every day like clockwork, he sits in front of the TV at 5:00 to watch Adam-12 and watches until M*A*S*H is over at 8 pm. He skips Happy Days, though. He thinks that show sucks ass. Sometimes Hosea joins him too. Just two old men, watching old man shows.

Continuing on the train of Old Man Things™ Arthur does, he falls asleep slouched over on the couch. A book still open in his hands, the TV still on, and Arthur’s out fucking cold.

He has a Doberman that he adopted from the local animal shelter. Every morning, Arthur takes him out for a walk before work, a walk when he gets home and one late at night before bed.

Arthur spends more time at Dutch and Hosea’s house than he does at his own apartment. He can’t help it; he misses them too much if he’s away for too long. ‘Specially Hosea. Whenever he comes home, Hosea just wraps him up in a warm hug that makes Arthur melt. It’s not every day Arthur gets a hug from the one and only Hosea Matthews.

Okay, I’ll be honest with ya’. The first thing that came to my mind when thinking of modern Bill; was him moonlighting as a Drag Queen. I’m just gonna leave that there lmao.

But anyways, Bill would definitely be really into fantasy shows and other nerd shit like that. It was Kieran that got him into it, too. Bill, being the gay disaster that he is, immediately accepted Kieran’s invitation to join him at a D&D campaign he was hosting. It only hit Bill after the fact that he had absolutely no idea how to play D&D. Like at all. He was too caught up in staring at Kieran’s cute, blushy face for anything Kieran said to process. Let’s just say that watching Bill flounder as he tried to keep up with the campaign made Kieran fall for him even harder.

Charles takes pottery classes at a local art studio in town. It’s mostly filled with single moms taking their kids to dance classes or the other art classes the studio offered. Charles could feel the stares the women gave him while he worked the clay on his pottery wheel. His hair is always pulled back and tied up into a sloppy bun or a half-assed ponytail. He used to keep it down, but clay got stuck in the ends, and it was almost impossible to get out. Charles ended up having to cut an inch or two of hair off after his first class.

When he’s not making art, you’ll usually find him playing video games or volunteering somewhere. Usually, it’s either the shelter or the zoo. Charles genuinely enjoys handing out with all the different kinds of animals there; they all seem to really like him.

Javier owns his own boutique that bordered the town square. It wasn’t the biggest store, but he had everything you could ever want and more in stock. He loves working around Halloween since that’s when all of the little kids came in to look around for costumes. All of the kids are so nice, and if they need it, he’ll help them pick out the perfect outfit. Seeing the smiles his clothes brought to other people is what makes running his own business worth it.

On his days off, Javier’ll be drawing new clothing designs in his sketchbook, or he’ll be taking a nap on the couch. After Lenny’s done with his own shift at the boutique, he’ll sometimes stay over at Javier’s and makes dinner for them both.

Poor Johnny Marston is a college dropout. He originally went just ‘cause Arthur went, and he wanted to be just like his big brother, but when he got there it was nothing like he imagined it be. John was ashamed of himself at first, refusing to tell Hosea or Dutch about what he did. They both were paying so much to send him there! John wouldn’t be able to handle Hosea being disappointed in him. Dutch, he could deal with, but making Hosea upset with him is something John would never do.

When John did end up telling them, neither Dutch nor Hosea was disappointed. They didn’t even seem upset, surprisingly enough. They both pulled John into a big group hug; even Arthur joined in this time. John and Hosea were the shortest out of the four, so they were snuggled in the middle while Dutch and Arthur held everyone close between them.

Even though Arthur teases the hell out of him and vise versa, every once in a while, he has to tell John just how much he loves him. John really couldn’t ask for a better brother.

Kieran is a textbook gay kid. He’s only ever had two jobs, one at a bakery; and the other at a florist’s shop. Funny enough, he met Bill during a shift at the bakery he worked at. Kieran was in the middle of frosting cupcakes when Bill rushed inside, clearly late for something important. The sudden entrance caused Kieran to yelp and mess up the cupcake he was working on, smudging the once perfect frosting. It was obvious how bad poor Bill felt when he saw the damage he caused, so he bought a dozen donuts instead of only one like he had planned on.

It almost became a tradition after that. Bill always seemed to be late for work or some prior arrangement, and Kieran always had a box chock-full of the man’s favorite donuts ready for him. Neither of them was confident enough to grow balls and ask the other out, but when someone asked them how long they’d been dating, they both realized how much the other was just as emotionally constipated. Like a ‘holy fuck, you’re gay too??!!?’ moment, combined with an ‘I want to kiss the hell out of your pretty face’ moment if that makes sense.

Lenny works at Javier’s boutique full time while attending the local college, studying to become an english teacher. It was the best of both worlds, he gets to hang out with his best friend all day, and he gets paid enough to live comfortably while putting himself through school.

I’m sorry, but I can’t not see Lenny being this universe’s version of lil nas x. Maybe not as famous as lil nas, but he definitely still has his style and makes/enjoys that genre of music. And you can’t forget the gay part. (arguably the best part, but I digress).

If you think Mary-Beth works anywhere but a library/bookstore, you’re wrong. Incredibly wrong. She lives there. You have to convince her not to spend her entire paycheck at the second-hand shop the library has on weekends. Seriously, it’s almost impossible to keep her from thrift shops and other flea market like events. If she’s not buying hundreds of knickknacks, she’s baking. I’m tellin’ you; she’s the perfect package!! I’m this close to marrying her on the spot. Mary-Beth’s food is to die for, regardless of what it is. Brownies, cookies, cake? Divine. Omelets, french toast, steak, BBQ ribs? Heavenly. I swear, I’m gonna marry her, so help me god-

In general, Mary-Beth is just the sweetest person alive. She doesn’t care who you are to her; if you’re her friend, you’re getting hugs and kisses and are taking midday naps together. And don’t you dare assume that she always wants to be the little spoon! She likes to hold you close just as much as she likes being the one held.

Micah likes to pretend he’s a bad boy greaser from the ’50s, wearing a leather jacket and riding a showy motorcycle. Don’t get me wrong, he looks hot as fuck dressed like that, but he thinks he’s intimidating, and it’s hilarious to watch.

Good ‘ole Sean MacGuire is a bass guitarist/drummer for a band he joined in high school. They’re still a garage band, not yet making it big, but he’s confident that he’ll be rocking out on a big stage in front of millions of people one day. Sean wears one of those thick cloth headbands that people will wear when working out when he performs. Why? ‘Cause Sean thinks it makes him look hot, and it really did do a good job at keeping the sweat out of his eyes. It’s almost concerning how much he sweats, though, like really. After a couple of hours of practice, Sean looks like he took a bath in his clothes. He’s like a walking shower with an Irish accent haunting it.

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Rose Coloured Glasses - Part 6

A/N: Some Defending Jacob Spoilers ahead! 💕 (Taglist is open).

It had been a month or so since the Vermont trip and Andy never brought up what happened (or hadn't happened) between us which I was grateful for!

We were actually getting along really well now, so i put it behind us and chalked it up to him being a bad drunk! If he didn't remember what he had said.... it was best to leave it that way. Work had been busy keeping everyone occupied and in my free time.... well Frank took up all my free time.

"Hey, i was thinking we could go out tonight, a couple friends of mine are getting together" Frank said Early Friday morning as we both stood in my bathroom brushing our teeth.

"You want me to meet your friends?"

"Yeah why wouldn't i?" he scoffed spitting toothpaste into the sink before rinsing.

"I don't know, i just thought you were all about the sex. Keeping it casual, having fun" i shrugged taking my turn to spit and rinse my mouth.

"This still seem casual to you? I don't think I've ever spent this much time with the same woman..... its like i'm hooked on you sweetheart" he mumbled as he pulled me into his arms burying his face in my neck "Your like a drug" he traced kisses up my neck, my phone started ringing from the bedroom, the ringtone for Andy causing Frank to groan.

"Does he know when i'm trying to get you into bed?" He moaned as i turned to go and answer the phone, Andy never called this early so it must be important.

"Hey Andy" i said sitting on the edge of the bed holding my phone against my shoulder as i pulled on a shirt and started with the buttons.

"Morning, sorry to call so early"

"Thats fine i was just getting ready to leave"

"Im on my way to you, court got moved up on that Malloy case"

"The class A possession?"

"Thats the one, you've got the case files right?"

"Yeah i had everything ready to go"

"I'll be with you in 5".

He hung up and i started rushing around grabbing my bag and slipping on my heals.

"Frank i gotta go! Court got moved up and Andy's on his way" i called looking out the window seeing the black Audi come to a stop outside "Shit! His here i gotta go!" I rushed towards the front door and Frank caught me on the way out giving me a quick kiss and then i was out the door rushing over to Andy's car, as soon as i was in the car the car was moving.

"I can't believe this shit!" Andy moaned speeding along the road "they must have a bigger case coming in later"

"It'll be fine, you've got this".

Just as i thought Andy had it in the bag, he was in there 10 minutes tops. We walked outside the court house to Bobbys coffee cart, a regular stop off while we were here.

"All right, you're due back in for a session in 15 minutes. Then meeting with Lynn, her office. I think she wants an update on the Willis case" i read off to Andy as we waited for our drinks and he looked over items on the cart listening to what i was saying.

"Oh, that makes two of us. Bobby you guys outta Peach?"

"Could be, let me check the back" Bobby replied handing us our coffee's.

"Thanks. How's the hip?"

"Oh you know, worse than yesterday, better than tomorrow" Bobby replied before moving round the back of the cart. I couldn't help but laugh a little at the older man before picking up where i left off "you wanted a conference with Judge French in Chambers. His clerk says he has a 2:30, if you want that" i finished saying just as his phone started ringing in his pocket. Andy held the paper cup in between his teeth as he fished his phoned out, i quickly reached out to take it from him before he spilt it.

"Thank you" he smiled before answering the call "hey".

I watched as Andy listened to call, he closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head.

"Oh jesus, okay. Where?.... okay, yeah. I'll meet you over there". He hung up slipping the phone back in his pocket.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"You're a lucky man Mr B, only got one left" Bobby came back out handing Andy his Peach yoghurt.

"Thanks"

"What is it?" I asked again seeing the look on Andy's face.

"We gotta clear the rest of my day...." he reached over taking his coffee back "i'll tell you about it in the car" he said walking towards the carpark at a pace i struggled to keep up with.

"Andy? Whats going on?" I asked once we were both in the car.

"That was Detective Duffy on the phone"

"Okay...."

"They found a body in the woods this morning, 14 year old boy".

"Oh my god.... thats awful...."

"I need to get over there"

"Sure, you should go straight there.... i'll grab a taxi back to the office and clear your day"

"I can drop you at the office before i go"

"No you should get over there, i'll be fine. Call me later?"

"Okay"

"Don't worry, i'll take care of everything else, you go"

"Thank you Y/N, your the best".

Once i was back at the office i cancelled all Andy's appointments and meetings, rescheduling what i could. Then spent the rest of the afternoon just answering calls and taking messages. Around 4pm the calls finally stopped and i spent the rest of the afternoon sitting around waiting to hear from Andy.

Frank: Hey, u still okay for drinks tonight?

Y/N: Hey, i think i'm gonna have to reschedule Frank. Today has been awful... i'm not really feeling up to drinks.

Frank: oh... really? Maybe it will cheer u up?

Y/N: Not likely lol you can still go though right? Go enjoy yourself. Think i'm just going to head home once i'm done here.

Frank: ur working late, everything okay?

Y/N: Not really. Like i said its been a day of it.

Just as i sent the last message to Frank my phone started ringing and Andy's name flashed up.

"Hey, how you doing?" I answered quickly tapping my pen nervously on the desk, Andy sighed quietly but i still heard.

"Hey, i'm ok.... just been a tough day. The kid, Benjamin Rifkin, he was Jacobs year at Archer. He was found stabbed three times in the chest...."

"Jesus....Who could do that to a kid??"

"I have no idea, but we'll find them don't worry. We found a partial print, but no matches so far."

"You sound exhausted Andy"

"Yeah"

"You should go home and get some sleep, do you need me to do anything else before i leave the office?"

"Wait your still there??"

"Yeah i had stuff to do and i wanted to make sure you didn't need anything else"

"Im on my way up there now, just getting in the elevator so i might loose you..."

As if on cue the call disconnected.

A couple minutes later Andy walked in and dropped into the chair across from me, he leant back in the chair rubbing his hands over his face.

"Can i get you a coffee or something?"

"That would be great actually" he said with a smile shrugging his jacket off and rolling up his sleeves.

"Today has been awful"

"I bet, did you have to talk to the parents?"

"Yeah i just came from seeing the Rifkin's.... god" he shook his head.

"That bad huh?" I said standing in front of him and putting the coffee on the desk.

"Worse" he looked up at me with tears in his eyes, i could tell he was trying so hard to keep it together but it was getting to him. I stepped forward wrapping my arms around his shoulders, his arms automatically wrapping around my waist and holding me tight, his head resting just above my stomach. If anyone would have walked in it would have looked so bad.

"Now I've gotta go home and talk to Jake, probably get 20 questions from Laurie....."

Shit! His wife!

"You should go home Andy" i said trying to step away from him but he held on tight.

"Just.... give me 5 minutes"

"5 minutes" i agreed running my fingers through the short hair on the back of neck.

"This is the best i've felt all day" he mumbled "i always have to be the strong one you know....."

"You don't have to with me, you ever need someone to talk to i'm here".

"Thank you Y/N".

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit

Rose Coloured Glasses taglist: @readermia @princess-evans-addict @jennmurawski13 @matsumama @ex-bloodjunkie @kaithezaftig

[bduffyzanetti]

mine just happens to be you           a playlist for the Duffy-Zanettis

can u b my home? - fake dad / lucky - jason mraz and colbie caillat / banana pancakes - jack johnson / you and I - ingrid michaelson / the gambler - fun. / honeybee - the head and the heart / dog days are over - florence + the machine / put your records on - corinne bailey rae / the way I am - ingrid michaelson / come on get higher - matt nathanson / all for you - sister hazel / home - edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros / such great heights - the postal service / gotta have you - the weepies / anyone else but you - the moldy peaches

[victoodles]

Exhibitionist (Low Honor Arthur x Female Reader)

Back again and nastier than ever. Hope y’all enjoy! Find it here on AO3

Warnings: Rated N for Nasty (smut smut smut!)

Kieran Duffy had finally started acclimating into the Van der Linde’s dynamic. More comfortably than he expected thanks to you. Your hospitality paired alongside your boundless compassion had been nothing short of a saving grace to him since he became a “honorary guest” within the confines of the camp.

The gang held nothing but contempt for him, seeming to take pleasure in taunting him relentlessly as a former O’Driscoll. And for the more aggressive members, roughing him up without any fear of repercussions.

Not you. No, despite your secure place within this self-proclaimed family you had shown him nothing but kindness.

While bound to a post at the gang’s camp in Horseshoe Overlook, not even trusted enough to relieve himself in the woods, you would sneak out to him. Just before daybreak while the rest of the camp slept, bringing him cups of water and small pieces of stale bread. You'd apologize profusely that you couldn’t acquire something more substantial to help him regain his strength.

Kieran could never muster up the courage (nor the energy) to tell you that your goodwill alone was more than enough to reinvigorate him. Speaking to women was never his strong suit. More often than not he found himself red in the face, unable to meet your tender gaze.

After each of these encounters he could’ve sworn he saw Arthur Morgan pulling you away to his tent. He always looked rather cross with you, whispering what Kieran assumed were reprimands in your ear.

Arthur was Dutch’s primary enforcer - a brute of a man to say the least. If he knew what you were up to in the wee hours of the morning, he didn’t voice his displeasure. To his leader or any other gang member for that matter. Kieran had hoped you weren’t finding yourself at the opposing end of Arthur’s rage because of him.

If you were, Kieran truly was a pity of a man because he could do nothing to defend your honor.

Now the gang was residing comfortably by the lake side of Clemen’s Point, and Kieran had been granted the simple liberties of unrestricted movement around camp. While the mistreatment from the others didn’t subside, being able to sit next to you on his own accord was enough to make up for the incessant ridicule.

On his luckiest days, he would see you sitting by the shoreline with your toes teasing the edge of the gentle waves. Your hair always in a loose braid and gentle gusts of wind would blow stray tendrils in a way that framed your face so perfectly. A faint smile adorned your lips as you idly thumbed through an unknown book, seemingly without a care in the world. Your life was surrounded by bloodshed, yet your exterior gave no hint to the world you truly resided in.

Kieran had never seen a sight more brilliant. He didn't dare to interrupt you though; he would just soil the tranquility of the moment being the bumbling fool that he was. He was more than content just to be a silent onlooker.

Much to his credit he had tried to express his feelings, albeit it not with words. Kieran could never find the courage to verbally affirm how he felt towards you.

When he was finally allowed to leave camp without supervision, Kieran had gone directly to the general store in Rhodes. He bought a fine, silk ribbon for you, already imaging the fabric dancing in the breeze, complimenting your beautiful locks.

He could barely keep his composure as he gifted it to you, pathetically stuttering through an explanation of how he thought the color would suit your complexion.

You had laughed so sweetly in response; Kieran could only compare it to the tinkling of bells. And in return you had earnestly thanked him for thinking of you. His mouth hung open in response, looking like the human embodiment of a fish out of water.

Sentences, words, language. It had all eluded him.

It was all so simple in theory-just tell you that he was sweet on you and take it from there. As enchanting as you were, something else caught his attention however.

Only a few feet away, he could make out Arthur’s form as he intently watched the two of you. Every muscle in Kieran’s body went rigid as he saw the ferocity in Arthur’s eyes. One wrong move and the wolf would pounce, tearing his throat clean out.

Kieran was well aware that Arthur trusted him as far as he could toss him, but did he really expect any harm to befall you by simply talking to him?

It not only amplified his apprehension towards the man, it also struck him as rather peculiar. Arthur did seem to keep a closer eye on you in contrast to any of the other women. But it never seemed driven by any sense of affection. Maybe he was just imagining things but it almost seemed carnal in nature.

Kieran decided to stop humoring the thought and diverted his attention back to caring for your horse. The fondness you had for your spotted Appaloosa, Moonstone, was unparalleled. He remembered fondly when he first properly groomed her and the only way you found you could express your gratitude was with a heartfelt embrace.

His heart nearly ceased beating. And what a way to die, in the arms of an angel.

With deft fingers, he braided the mare’s mane just the way you liked it. As an added surprise he wove some wildflowers into it. White daisies aptly looking like stars against her stark black hair.

He vividly pictured the smile you would give him in return. Your happiness palpable, sweet as honey. Maybe, just maybe, you would reward him with a kiss on the cheek.

Wishful thinking, but a man could dream.

Speaking of, he was wondering where you had run off to. He hadn’t seen you since breakfast which struck him as odd. Your bow was still in your tent so you hadn’t gone hunting with Charles, and he couldn’t find you at your usual spot by the lake.

Strange, perhaps you had gone into town with one of the other girls?

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard soft, almost muffled, gasps coming from the woods just beyond the outskirts of the camp. Stranger and stranger. Had Jack wandered too far from his mother’s side, tripping as he chased squirrels in the forest? It wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

Or worse, had someone discovered their little hideaway and was attempting to kidnap one of the notorious Van der Linde’s? Bounty hunters had become a persistent problem since the gang’s shootout fiasco back in Valentine with Leviticus Cornwall.

Mustering up what little bravery he had, Kieran decided to investigate in an attempt to discover the origin of these sounds. He was a Van der Linde now, and even though that meant very little to most of the gang, he would still do what he could to protect all of them.

Trepidatiously, Kieran advanced towards the tree line, careful to avoid any stray branches that would alert this potential intruder. As he continued on, the noises had escalated into airy moans and staccatoed breaths. Dread surged through him, blood running cold at the sheer implication that a bounty hunter could be having his way with one of the girls.

He prayed to God above that wasn’t the case, that his fear was misplaced. But doubt weighed heavy on him that a pair of lovers would find themselves all the way out here for a lascivious romp.

Kieran took shelter behind a tree as he mentally prepared himself for what was waiting just beyond. It had slipped his mind to bring a gun along with him - not that any of the men would even lend him one to begin with. He had only his fists to rely on (and that wasn’t very reassuring to say the least).

But once he heard another whimper resonate from the clearing, there was no time to turn and run. With one final deep breath, he turned to peer from his cover to see what he was actually up against. He soon found his heart lurching up into his throat.

No one was being taken advantage of, that was explicitly clear.

There you were on your back - hair wild and loose splayed out behind you in the grass. Your skirt had been hiked up, fabric pooling around your waist with your drawers discarded and leaving you bare. A deep crimson flush warmed your cheeks as a painfully familiar name fell from your lips.

“Arthur,” you mewled, your legs resting on Arthur’s broad shoulders. Your rear was slightly elevated and supported by his free arm, with his tongue deep in your cunt. He smirked against you, giving you a few more languid licks before pulling away from you with your slick glistening on his lips.

“Sweet as a peach, and all for me,” his voice was rough with unadulterated lust as he looked down at you in your pleasure-filled haze. It gave Arthur immense gratification to know he was the only one who could do this to you. And he was going to be the only one who ever would.  

Kieran knew he shouldn’t be watching, it was countless forms of wrong. But he was too riddled with shock to even move an inch.

The woman he had been pining over all this time was Arthur Morgan’s.

The intensity of Arthur’s lingering gazes. Foreboding glares he would send Kieran’s way when he dared to speak to you a moment too long - it all clicked into place. He originally believed that the outlaw was just doing his job to protect you from the “big, bad O’Driscoll”.  When in actuality, it had run much deeper than just that.

Arthur didn’t want him encroaching on his territory - on his woman.

As Arthur began to resume his place between your legs once more, Kieran caught his attention. Unbeknownst to you however, remaining in ignorant bliss beneath Arthur.

Fear wracked through Kieran, now having been discovered. But if he was furious, Arthur’s eyes gave no indication. Kieran waited for him to rush over and beat him within an inch of his life. You would likely never speak to him again for peeping during their heated moment of congress.

Unexpectedly, Arthur just devilishly smirked at him before delving his tongue back inside of you earning him another rapturous moan. Arthur would teach this lovesick idiot who you belonged to - show him what he could never attain.

Arthur wasted no time teasing you with his ministrations, quickly dragging the flat of his tongue up and down your slit. You found yourself getting wetter and wetter as he continued his relentless, rapid cadence (much to his delight).

His tongue plunged deeply inside of you, reveling in the way your muscles lightly clenched around him. He thrust the tip of it in and out of your soft warmth and you keened. Your fingers found their way to his hair once he started feverishly sucking on your clit, occasionally flicking it with his tongue.    

Kieran was in disbelief-he couldn’t believe such wanton cries were coming from you of all people. He had heard men with working women occasionally in hotels, but never had he heard such raw, undiluted desire like this before in his life.

Again Arthur broke away from you, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, tracing feather-light circles around your entrance while his thumb hovered just tortuously above your clit.

“Look at you darlin’, such a pretty girl,” he whispered huskily, letting his fingertips slip into you ever so slightly. He looked back to Kieran before adding, “My girl.” A sentiment that was more so a statement of fact, laced with a silent threat that he should never dare forget.

“Y-yours,” you panted, breasts heaving as he began applying pressure with the pad of his thumb to your clit. He hummed in response, clearly pleased with your answer. And he rewarded you accordingly, sinking his fingers into you up to the knuckle.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he pulled out of you for a moment before slamming back in, “mine.” He continued this unabated rhythm, his arm around you keeping your wriggling hips still in his firm grasp.

“Whose,” thrust, “are," thrust, “you?”

You desperately tried to suppress your cries being so close to the camp, but to no avail.

“Yours!”

The pressure in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of heat throughout your body, was becoming unbearable. You wanted to beg Arthur for your release, but in your current state you knew your wishes would just come out as an incoherent mess. Besides, he always gave you what you wanted. One way or another.

Arthur hummed in satisfaction, withdrawing his fingers from you once more despite your discordant protests. “Good girl,” he praised lowly, a shiver making its way up your spine at his approval. A man of little patience, Arthur was ravenous and could only be satiated by your delectable essence.

He didn’t think himself an accomplished man, but the way he could make a delicate woman like you sing with his touch alone, he considered himself up there with those great composers that Dutch fancied listening to.

With haste, Arthur sank three digits back into you and began a once again unabated pace with his tongue finding a familiar place on the tender nub at the apex of your womanhood. He lapped at it greedily, moving his head left and right in perfect tandem with the movement of his fingers.

The sensations were like pure Hellfire surging through your veins. And if Arthur was the devil incarnate, you would gladly let him envelop you in his flames time and time again.      

Arthur could sense you were on that beautiful precipice, so close to spectacularly breaking. Your toes curled on his shoulders and hands clutched the ground below with white knuckles. He glanced up once more, and fueled by a twisted sense of pride, was delighted to see Kieran had not left with his tail between his legs.

Shamelessly, Arthur shot him a wink. Assuring when you came, the name that fell from your lips would remind that fool that you would never utter anything so fine in his direction. Arthur was not left disappointed.

You finished with a silent scream, hoarsely chanting his name repeatedly like a passionate mantra as he eagerly drank up your climax.

Kieran had seen nothing Arthur didn’t want him to, and with shame heavily apparent on his face and a throbbing problem within his jeans, he scurried away like the coward he always knew he was.  

~

A handful of days had come and gone since Kieran had stumbled upon you and Arthur during your moment of...intimacy.

Kieran had become dramatically more skittish since then - especially around you. The rest of the gang paid him little mind despite this. He couldn’t look you in the eye without recalling you in such an indecent state: smooth legs exposed, your sensual cries during your throws of passion, the way you looked when you ca-

“Kieran?” Your melodic voice had broken him out of his exceedingly inappropriate trance - about you no less!

His ears turned beet red, threatening to bloom into a deplorable flush on his cheeks. You cocked your head to the side, seemingly puzzled, as you waited for him to compose himself.

“M-Miss?” He blubbered, attempting to cover his embarrassment with his hand.

“I was just checking to see if you were alright. You’ve been a little...off recently.” Bless your heart and endless supply of empathy for those around you. “Are you sick,” you asked in earnest, reaching out to determine if he perhaps had a fever.

Kieran stumbled away from your touch leaving you shocked, oblivious to what prompted such a dramatic reaction.

“I’m f-fine Miss, don’t you w-worry none about me,” he floundered through his excuse. He became even more short of breath as Arthur came up behind you, placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

As if expecting him, you looked back and gifted him a small smile, expression softening in his presence. He nodded his greeting to you in kind.

“Mr. Morgan! Are we still on for our hunting trip? I’ve been hearing rumors of a pure-white fox just shy of Rhodes and they sound promising,” you explained enthusiastically and Arthur gave a low chuckle in response.    

“Course’. Why don’t you go get your things, I’ll be right with ya.” With that, you headed back towards your tent. Not before giving Kieran a farewell wave, leaving the two men alone with one another.

Arthur stared him down, his expression passive as Kieran all but trembled in his boots unsure of what was to come. A wolfish grin played on his lips and a laugh rumbled in his chest like thunder, further unnerving Kieran.

Arthur broke the tense silence first.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, O’Driscoll,” he stated bluntly, reveling in Kieran’s extreme anxiety. Flabbergasted with a nervous sweat forming at his brow, Kieran was completely at a loss for words.

Arthur sneered and began making his way past him, stopping at his side only to discreetly whisper something in his ear.

“If I so much as suspect you thinking ‘impure’ thoughts about my woman, I’ll personally see you gelded.”

[lesbian-books]

Lesbian Authors

A.J. Adaire  Pat Adams-Wright  Dorothy Allison  S.W. Anderson  Elizabeth Andre  Mavis Applewater  Ann Aptaker  J.A. Armstrong  Michelle Arnold  Clare Ashton  K. Aten  Victoria Avilan  Darla Baker  Roslyn Bane  Ann Bannon  Solia Panche Bealti  Alison Bechdel  Georgia Beers  Sharon Marie Bence  Bridget Birdsall  Harper Bliss  Andrea Bramhall  Jaye Robin Brown  Anna Burke  Amalie Cantor  Brandee Carbo  Suzie Carr  Dawn Carter  C.L. Cattano  Becky Chambers  Kate Charlton  Sharon Cho  Barbara L. Clanton  Hannah Abigail Clarke  Shelby Cochran  Helen Corcoran  Jeanne Córdova  Audrey Coulthurst  Delores Cremm  Maggie Dane  Emily M. Danforth  Sandra de Helen  Barbara Dennis  Nicole Dennis-Benn Stefani Deoul  K.E. DePalmenary  T.L. Dickerson  Jennifer Diemer  Sarah Diemer * Jane DiLucchio  J.M. Dragon  Moondancer Drake  K.B. Draper  Cassandra Duffy  A.L. Duncan  Nann Dunne  Sarah Ettritch  Lillian Faderman  Sara Farizan  Leslie Feinberg  Anna Ferrara  Fannie Flagg  Jane Fletcher  Laura Foley  Katherine V. Forrest  Diane Fortier  Giselle Fox  Anna Furtado  Elisa M. Galbreath  Lynn Galli  S.L. Gape  Nancy Garden  Lyn Gardner  S. Anne Gardner  Pauline George  Ana B. Good  Parker Gordon  Erin Gough  Kimberly Cooper Griffin  Nicola Griffith  Agnes H. Hagadus  Anne Hagan  Radclyffe Hall  S.M. Harding  Ellen Hart  Nancy Ann Healy  Fran Heckrotte  Natasja Hellenthal  Dotti Henderson  Claire Highton-Stevenson  Gerri Hill  E.M. Hodge  Dayna Ingram  Isabella  Jae  Adiba Jaigirdar  Jo Jennings  Heather Rose Jones  E.A. Kafkalas  Karin Kallmaker  Riley LaShea  Stacey-Leanne  Lez Lee  Malinda Lo  Ann-Marie MacDonald  Renee MacKenzie  Prudence MacLeod  Lise MacTague  Lucy J. Madison  Rachel Maldonado  Siera Maley  Laurie J. Marks  Julie Maroh  Michelle Marra  Paula Martinac  Arkady Martine  Q.C. Masters  Andi Marquette  Pamela Mauldin  Robbi McCoy  M.K. McGowan  Gill McKnight  Ann McMan  Heather McVea  Mary Meriam  Ronni Meyrick  Martha Miller  Rogena Mitchell-Jones  K.A. Moll  Sallyanne Monti  Annette Mori  Bonnie J. Morris  Jaycie Morrison  Niamh Murphy  Charlene Neil  Natasha Ngan  Nik Nicholson  Baren Nix  Ocean  Paula Offutt Chinelo Okparanta  Chris Parsons  Angela Peach  Julie Anne Peters  B.J. Phillips  Ashley Quinn  Radclyffe  Cheryl Rainfield  Adan Ramie  Nina Revoyr  Rhavensfyre  Julia Diana Robertson  Nita Round  Morgan Routh  Joanna Russ  Laurie Salzler  Shamim Sarif  Lacey Schmidt  Sarah Schulman  Tina Sears  Cass Sellars  Merry Shannon  Fiona Shaw ** Kaden Shay  Djuna Shellam  Jen Silver  Jennis Slaughter  Adrian J. Smith  E.H. Smith  Vanessa Snyder  Alison R. Solomon  Raven J. Spencer  Ali Spooner  Rose Stone  Carren Strock  Rebecca Sullivan  Leandra Summers  Mariko Tamaki  Michelle L. Teichman  Keira Michelle Telford  Rae Theodore  M.E. Tudor  Vanda  Elle Vaughn  Missouri Vaun  Anastasia Vitsky  Tillie Walden  Sarah Waters  HollyAnne Weaver  Laney Webber  Louise Welsh  Caren J. Werlinger  K.D. Williamson  B.L. Wilson  Catherine M. Wilson  Barbara Winkes  Lee Winter  Jeanette Winterson  Chris Anne Wolfe  T.J. Wolfe  Jacqueline Woodson  Fiona Zedde  Kristen Zimmer 

* Also writes under the pen names Elora Bishop and Bridget Essex

** Not to be confused with the Irish actress of the same name

This list is subject to changes. Compiling a list of lesbian authors is a challenge because not all authors are out and my sources of information are limited. I had to rely on finding author bios, interviews, tweets, etc. in which an author mentions her sexual orientation. I also got many of these names from the Lesbian Authors Guild.