Dean Ambrose - Because Of You

Dean Ambrose - Prompt #82: “My back’s a bit sore from when you stabbed me with your knife.”

- Warnings - Angst, Fluff, Swearing, Mentions of cheating.

Word Count - 1,639 words.

Requested by: Anon.

Originally posted by leakees


3 years is how long’d you’d been together now; you and Dean. It felt as though it was just a dream, a perfect miracle that almost made life seem to have meaning again. He saved you after your previous relationship gone wrong.

You knew him like he was just another part of you. Far too well to put it in simpler terms. Maybe that’s why you felt so safe and comforted around him or perhaps it was just the way he looked at you, whether it be after a long road trip being reunited or just as he watched you fall asleep. You could never get over those eyes. The exact piercing blue orbs that blindsided you causing you to fall in love with this guy the very moment you stepped foot in the doors of the WWE.

It was a rare occasion for your boyfriend to be injured- even if he was nobody would even know. He supposedly ‘didn’t care’ and ‘didn’t want it the phase him or throw him off his a-game’. That’s what was ever so slightly strange… getting a call Tuesday night from Dean informing you he was going to have to stay home for a month due to an injury. He never took time off; not for anything. And the phone call… well he sounded surprisingly calm, polar-opposite to your expectations. 

A mere few months ago, Dean and yourself were drafted to separate brands; him going to Smackdown and you being sent to Raw. Being split up inevitably would take an effect on your relationship but you were determined to maintain the close-knit bond you had made over the years. This made reunions at joint pay-per-views that tiny bit more special. With Dean’s injury as well as the WWE’s European tour directly after the Royal Rumble meant you weren’t going to end up seeing each other for at least 3 weeks. It would be an understatement to say you were totally devastated by this sudden realisation; it would be wrong to say that your heart didn’t feel a million miles away at this point.

~ European Tour ~ 

The final live show in Germany was finally over meaning just 48 hours left until your knees tremble and your heart feels whole again. 48 hours until you next see your boyfriend.

It was late; about a quarter to 11. Little noise was to be heard as you exited the what was a couple of hours ago a thunderstorm of thousands of voices all talking at once. The sky was dark- crammed with billions of stars, the moon the biggest you’d seen in a long while. It was almost as if it grew simultaneously with your heart. Your cab pulled up and you hastily entered. You were supposed to car-share to the hotel and leave tomorrow- Guess that plan didn’t work out. You made the decision to completely scrap that and get the first flight possible, getting back early the following morning to surprise Dean. Effectively the best decision you had made in your life.

~ The Following Morning ~

Stepping foot off the plane your mood was instantly sky rocketed just being in the presence of your home state- I mean even if you didn’t look half your best and even if that strong scent of sweat was still lingering from the person you had not long ago sat next to. Oh, the joys of standard class airplanes. You took a step out the airport into a warmer, more desirable temperature, one that was an utter contrast to the crisp winds of Europe. Luckily, the cab ride was short considering you lived not too far away. By this moment the suspense was slowly killing you; you were just dying to see him, to kiss his face, to have him hold you once again after a month.

Standing outside to door to your apartment you focused solely on the thoughts running through your head before practically leaping through the door. You were faced with your living room, your quaint kitchen in the background; empty. He must be in the bedroom. It is early and all so that’s your best guess. You swiftly rested all your luggage at the door, anticipation rushing over you as you took a stroll towards your bedroom. Your hands were shaking, you wouldn’t say it was from nerves, more so because you’re overly excited. You slowly pressed against the door entering with stealth; the last thing you wanted to do was wake Dean. There you saw him; just how you remember him looking… just not with the girl laying stomach down, tight dress on the bed next to him.

“Y/N, I thought you weren’t back until tomorrow,” Dean exclaimed, clearly in a state of shock. “I-i” His words started to become slurred so you instantly cut him off.

“You know what Dean, save your words for someone who cares. I wanted to surprise you but looks like you surprised me.” Your vision began to become blurred. Did your eyes deceive you? This isn’t the man you fell in love with. His mouth wouldn’t stop just opening and then closing, desperately seeking the words to get himself out of this mess. He couldn’t. “You know what, we’re done Dean, done.” You pretty much screamed at him, slamming the door behind you to walk away, your luggage being taken with you.

~ Wrestlemania ~

A little over a month later and it was Wrestlemania- The most prestigious night in sports entertainment. The night where both rosters merge to fight for every title in the company. In fact, you had a match tonight, a 6-pack challenge for the Raw Women’s title. Everyone was pumped… but not you. After your last encounter with Dean, you distanced yourself from pretty much everyone, your friends, even your family. You weren’t the same person you used to be. The match was brief lasting a matter of minutes- well your match was short due to you eliminating yourself through disqualification snapping a chair against the backs of everyone in that ring. Much like Seth did to Dean, much like you wanted to do to him.

People made the effort to talk to you but you made no acknowledgment of them, sitting solemnly on a crate in the corridor, head in hands. That’s when a far too familiar muscular build shadowed over your body. “Y/N…” He mumbled softly but you didn’t shift. He continued to question you asking whether ‘you were okay’. Of course you weren’t, it was a stupid question. You just didn’t answer, you lifted your head to be faced with him but absolutely no words left your mouth. “Y/N just talk to me for fuck sake.” He tone became more raspy.

Only being in the presence of him was enough to let your emotions take over. You refused to cry… it would show your weakness in front of him. Ever since that night you tried to fake a smile, you tried to forget, you tried to just move on. But you couldn’t. You were tired of running, from everything. “Ouch.” You finally spoke, you could see the relief on his face even if he was slightly confused at your remark.

His instant reaction was to worry. “Are you alright? Did you get hurt in your match.”

“No Dean, my back’s a bit sore from when you stabbed me with your knife, that’s all.” You snapped at him, it was almost an instant reflex. “I got hurt a while ago Dean, by you.”

“We need to talk about that.” His tone lowered in utter grief. He wanted you to listen but you refused. “Please just hear me out. Please.” He begged you slapping his hand onto your leg before you just shoved it away before shouting, “I shouldn’t have to listen, there’s nothing more to it.”

His features lowered and a clear lump protruded from his throat. “The is more to it. I never cheated on you Y/N. I wouldn’t do that. I was injured so I decided to take things upon myself while I had the chance. I was going to propose to you… The girl, she was a party planner. We were going to surprise you, have a celebration with everyone there. I know why you thought the worst but I tried to talk to you, you wouldn’t pick up. I didn’t even know where you were. I’m sorry.” He choked on his words, you’d never seen him like this.

You’d never felt so stupid. It all made sense now, why he’d been distant, why’d he’d been so nervous. The words coming directly from his mouth hit you like a truck, a mixture of emotions all surging through your mind at once. Why did you ever doubt this guy? Being in a state of shock meant no words could escape your mouth. Your mind was so screwed, you just slapped him… but as his head turned away upon impact you twisted his chin back to you, placing a strong kiss on his lips. God, did that feel great. One singular tear streamed down your cheek only to be wiped clear by his thumb. “I’m sorry Dean. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” You wept whilst being dragged into a tight embrace.”I never meant to accuse you. I was wrong.”

His lips firmly pressed against your forehead. He used to do that all the time. It felt like you had him back, the man you fell in love with, the relationship that completed your world. “Ssh, it’s okay now. What do you say about marriage then? Marry me Y/N.” That was enough to drive your emotions over the edge, a waterfall of tears now ran off your chin and you frantically nodded in agreement. This man was now to be your husband and never again will you doubt him.

Tag List - @m-a-t-91

Feels for this one! Anyways this was a fun one to write so I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I liked writing it! Also thank you for requesting Anon! xo ~ Nikkii.

I NEED your old OCs

They were cringey. They were strange. They were badass.

I am currently working on a game with a small group of people. A 2D Sidescrolling Hack'n'Slash focussed around individuals, you don’t generally see every single day. That being said, the main focus is NOT on everybody just straightout slashing through enemies. Some of the characters don’t have any special powers or even a weapon.

In order to create an interesting micture in the cast and a huge amount of diversity, I am hereby asking EVERYBODY here to throw their older designed characters at me. Yes, I mean the ones you barely look at, those who you might consider cringey or clichee. Go for it. Tell me about them, throw art of them at me, make me laugh and smile, give me YOUR ideas for a game that is just starting earliest development.

If you don’t want to submit anything (and even if you do), PLEASE reblog this post and share it around. Make it be known among your friends and other people!


Tom Cavanagh is proof that its the personality that makes a man attractive to me. There is no doubt that he is an attractive man and I can appreacite his looks no matter who he is playing but there is def something more sexh about Harry wells compared to Eobard and HR!

Eobard was a great character that though being a villain it was hard to always reconcile that with the man we saw most of the time. He was handsome and brilliant, supportive and hard working and manipulative and cunning. It was a brilliant portrayle of a brilliant character and by the end of series 1 I was def a  micture of emanoured, hurt and angry at Eobard.

Then came series 2 and we meet Harry wells and somehow a man with the same face was a lot more attractive and sexy then before. I loved him being flawed and relatable, I love his passion and drive as a father. He was an angry cat full of conflict but also a good person trying to be a good dad in an impossible situation. He cold be cold and sacastic but also so smart and funny. Also I think scientist are sexy. With his dynamic with Cisco I only loved him more as he learned to love the team more. Harry wells is just so attractive to me and I totally fell in love with him.

Then was series 3 and HR who its taken me a little while to like becuase he’s not Harry. HR is handsome and very funny, he is quirky and thinks outside the box. Its not scientist smart. He clealy has some past that he’s trying to escape from that he hides with humour. While he’s good looking he’s just not as sexy as Harry. I like the character but I don’t love him or more acuratly I’m not in love with him.

(not so) Clever names for omo fandoms I’ve made:

  • Omo no Exorcist (or Gold Exorcist)
  • Harry Potty
  • Omo High School Hold Club (Title song: ‘Piss Piss fall in Love’)
  • Desp Note
  • Aim on Titan 
  • Pee! Iwatobi Swim Club/Eternal Summer (ED song: Splash pee)
  • Bathroom to the Future
  • Legend of Helda
  • Fairly Omo Parents
  • Somoic
  • Game of Groans (not really omo specific)
  • Pisstic Messenger
  • Captain Omorica
  • Fairy Tinkler
  • Gold Buttler 
  • Steven Urineverse
  • Rick OMorty
  • My Piddle Pony
  • Dynasty Whiners
  • Voltron Legendary Bladders
  • Micturing Ladybug
  • PiddlePuff Girls
  • Full Bladder Alchemist
  • Pissing Stalking
  • Omo-Punch Man
  • Nomogami
  • Stream Daddy 
  • Propissor Layton
  • Katpiss Everpee (she is her own fandom)
  • Urine Lie in April
  • Vomoloid
  • Xiagroin Showdown (again, not omo specific)
  • Sword Art Omoline
  • Psycho Piss
  • Omo no Seraph
  • Watomote
  • Omo-rashi no Naku Komo Ni
  • Jomo’s Bizzare Pissvendtures
  • Peenix Wright
  • Gold is the New Black
  • Out-house of Cards
  • The GoodWhine (so what if it is a courtroom drama? Will Gardner did say he had an uncontrollable bladder syndrome in season 2…)

If these have been made before, I’m sorry lol. I would have included ‘omo on ice’ but I didn’t create that.

I’m gonna keep reblogging this with any new ideas!

In the film, Pierre – a middle-class French man – is patronised, sexually harassed and belittled by women. However, this is familiar to the point of potentially being quite cliched. On its own, it is unlikely that such material would have made the film go viral, and result in being acclaimed as “Swiftian”. But the emotional core of the film. The essence of the film, what makes it really compelling viewing, is its class bigotry, racism and – ironically – palpable misogyny. […]
The first gripping moment is the exchange between Pierre and a Muslim male babysitter, the latter wearing a balaclava clearly intended to resemble a hijab. The white, middle-class Pierre tries to rescue him with an intervention. “Don’t you feel more and more trapped? First you shaved your moustache, then your whiskers … I’m afraid you look more and more like a child … You don’t belong to anyone you understand?”

The actor playing the Muslim man hams up expressions of idiocy, quiet deference and submission. He smiles politely, anxiously, and grimaces. “It is the law, you know. So God is protecting me …” He is what the hard right’s Islamophobic smears say Muslim women are: children, without agency, needing to be saved. In the logic of the video, this is evidence of the downtrodden stupidity of the Muslim man; not of the racial condescension of his supposed saviour. Pierre says “You are a man”; but what he actually communicates is “You are a child”. This is the film’s literal translation of Islamophobic misogyny.

However, the crux of the film, its most horrifyingly instructive moment, is the scene in which Pierre is sexually assaulted by a street gang. One of them is called “Samia” and it seems clear the film-maker is nudging us to think of them as north African. The young women are represented as every bit the feral youths, the sneering, snarling, micturating, violent racaille that Nicolas Sarkozy once referred to in the context of the banlieue riots.


The decision to frame the issue of sexual assault in terms of street gangs is telling, as is the fact that most of those who harass and attack Pierre, such as the bellowing homeless woman, are of a lower social class. In the real world, the great majority of sexual assaults, including the most serious, are carried out by a partner, an ex-partner, a family member, or someone else known to the victim. Approximately 10% of serious sexual assaults are carried out by strangers. It is not a stretch to say that in France the proportion of sexual assaults involving random north African street gangs would be puny.

Yet the film has chosen to set up a scenario in which a middle-class, “good” French person is assaulted, and let down by the police, who in so doing let the racaille get away with it. The wife, letting down her husband, risks turning him into the worst possible thing, a balaclava-wearing Muslim simpleton. This is the clincher, as far as the film is concerned: civilised France risks being Islamicised if it does not embrace the kind of curiously misogynistic feminism of Pourriat’s film.


Richard Seymour, Feminism can save France from Islam: that’s the real message of Majorité Opprimée

So this French short film “Majorité Opprimée” (Oppressed Majority) has gone viral on the internet and I’m a bit surprised not many people seem to mind the Islamophobic, racist and paternalistic undertones that cover much of the movie. It was sheer mainstream French feminism, that is to say a white and bourgeois brand of feminism, which participated a lot in building up the overly-present Islamophobia in France and finds no issue with supporting most of the racist and islamophobic policies from the government. This video is just one among many French narratives purposefully depicting the Maghrebi/North African man as inherently vulgar, violent and sexist and stripping Muslim women of any of their agency. 


hi ok so i was @genderfluid-elvendork‘s hogwartssecretsanta secret santa and so i tried making an aesthetic thing of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin! I also made like i guess a micture of both of them but i couldn’t figure out how to like add it to this thing without it looking weird so i posted it and yup. I tried to write something but argh i had terrible writers block and now have about 50 new drafts lol. Sorry that its so late (christmas was kinda frantic for my family this year) and i hope you had a great christmas!

Apps: is there nothing they can’t help you do drunkenly?

5 Products Made to Save You From Your Own Drunken Stupidity

#5. Free Pee Finds You a Place to Pee (That Isn’t the Side of a Building)
Despite sounding like the sketchiest Craigslist ad ever, this helpful app is designed to direct your ass (or penis, as the case may be) to actual, human bathrooms where you can lawfully micturate. The app even has user ratings, so you’ll know if you’re going to be walking into a vomit-soaked hole in the wall with nothing more than a horse trough to piss in. You can also add places yourself, so if you’ve been looking for a way to invite dozens of urine-filled strangers to your home, here’s your chance. It’s like Yelp, Google Maps, and OKCupid rolled into one!

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