#Too Big For His Britches
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Too Big For His Britches
I've been teasing @pinkducttape a little too much lately. As a self-imposed punishment (the joy of being a switch is that I get to be my own Dom) I wrote this horrible story staring myself, my imaginary Mommy, @pinkducttape, and their awesome Daddy, Midnight. Enjoy my attonement, I guess?
Today, I was feeling BIG! Mommy, my wife, had been so proud of me using the potty and staying accident free for the last week that she decided it was finally time for me to graduate from pull-ups to big kid undies!
Should have I felt embarrassed that, as a 32-year-old man, being allowed to wear a pair of Spider-Man underwear by my wife felt like a massive victory? Probably.
Did I? No.
The feeling of the soft cotton underwear under the jean shorts Mommy had dressed me in was far superior to the warm, bulky feel of the training pants and diapers I was now, much to used to. How could I not feel happy with my new found freedom?
Adding to my excitement was that today, the day I had graduated from 'Little' to 'Middle,' Mommy was taking me on a playdate! I was going to get to go hang out with Sunset, one of my best friends, while Mommy hung out with their Daddy, Midnight. I just knew that Little Sunsie was going to still be waddling around in diapers, while I would get to show off just how much of a big kid I was to them. It was going to be great!
It didn't take long for us to get to the secluded park where Mommy always took me for my playdates. I sat in the backseat, idly sucking my thumb while I thought about how I was going to tease my friend for still being a stinky little, while I, on the other hand, was a much more mature big kid. My wandering thoughts were interrupted by Mommy's voice.
"Baby Bean, are you drinking your water like you're supposed to be? It's going to be hot out there, and I don't want you getting dehydrated!"
I groaned as I popped my thumb out of my mouth and reached for my Bluey-themed water bottle in the cup holder. Didn't Mommy know I was a big kid? She's the one who held out my big kid undies for me to step into this morning for goose's sake! I didn't need to be reminded to drink water like some silly little baby. But, talking back wasn't worth the fight, not on a day like today. Plus, Mommy was right, as usual. It was really hot outside, and I was feeling thirsty just sitting in the car. There wasn't any harm in doing what she asked, just this one time. Having made up my mind, I replaced my thumb with the nipple of my water bottle and sucked down its contents as we drew closer to the park.
As usual, when we got to our destination, there was only one other car in the parking lot. Mommy and I both recognized it immediately. The pink and rainbow duct tape decorating it was a dead giveaway.
"Look, Baby Bean! Sunsie and Midnight are already here," Mommy said as she parked the car next to our friends' vehicle. She then turned back to me, staring at me sternly, "Now, I know you've earned the right to be a big boy today, but that does not mean you get to be rude. Make sure to be nice to Sunsie. They can't help being an adorable little pamper packer. Also, do not forget to come and tell me when you need me to take you to the potty. Got it?"
I nodded my head up and down in affirmation, happy that my Bluey water bottle hid the blush forming on my cheeks from the mention of asking Mommy to take me to the potty. And, when I nodded my head, agreeing to be nice to Sunset and ask to use the potty, I really meant it. Just because I was planning on teasing Baby Sunsie just a little, didn't mean I wasn't going to be nice to them!
I waited patiently as Mommy walked around the back of the car, opened the door and unbuckled my seat belt. Immediately, I sprinted past Mommy towards the mostly abandoned playground where I knew Sunset would be playing.
"Suuuuunnnnnssssssiiiiiiieeeeeee! We're here!" I yelled exhuberantly as I spotted my friend, sitting in the sandbox in a pastel yellow t-shirt and a pair of jean shortalls that did little to hide the thick diaper bulging at their waist. I was so excited, I didn't notice the pressure building in my bladder as I greeted my friend with a big, uncoordinated hug.
Midnight watched, smiling from their perch on a nearby park bench as I tackled Sunset into the sand in my excitement. From a distance behind me, I could hear my Mommy yelling out with an exasperated tone.
"Maddie! Careful! Don't hurt poor, little Sunsie!" She yelled breathlessly as she ran up behind me.
Sunset, for their part, was overjoyed to see me. They giggled as I wrapped my arms around them and accidentally knocked them over.
Midnight, with a better vantage of what was going on, immediately replied to my Mommy, "Oh, don't worry! It's just kids being kids! Now, get over here! We've got some catching up to do!"
The adults faded out of my awareness as Sunset and I righted ourselves, giggling in the sandbox. Sunset had clearly come prepared to play with all of their toys. Trucks, blocks, dolls, dinosaurs, and tractors were strewn about the sandy landscape my friend had constructed.
"Sunset, Sunset! Guess what?!" I asked, my excitement overflowing.
Sunset rolled their eyes at my bubbliness, but grinned good-naturedly at my excitement. "What 'Baby Bean?'" they asked, teasing me with my Mommy's nickname for me.
"That's just it!" I responded, ignoring the barb, "I'm not a baby anymore! Look! Mommy's letting me wear undies!"
I pulled down the elastic waist band of my jean shorts revealing the front of the cotton Spider-Man underwear I was wearing. Sunset's eyes grew wide. A grin spread across my face as I saw the hints of both jealousy and admiration I was hoping see in my friend's demeanor.
"That's right," I said, letting the elastic waistband of my shorts snap back into place, "no more diapers, or pull-ups, or training potties! I'm a real big boy now! I bet your Daddy will even let me babysit your stinky bottom soon!" I stuck my tongue out to emphasize my point.
As I spoke, I started to squirm uncomfortably. I felt a mounting pressure in my bladder, but it wasn't anything urgent enough to deal with yet. I couldn't leave to go potty now, just as I was starting to rub my new status in my friend's face.
"Yep, I bet it'll only be a couple weeks before I'm holding your leash, droppin' you off at daycare, before I get to go back to my REAL job!" I continued to tease Sunset. I couldn't tell if their face was getting red out of embarrassment or anger, but, frankly, high on my own increased status, I didn't care.
"Stop it, Maddie! It's cool you get to wear undies and all, but you're still just a baby like me! Nobody's gonna let you be a babysitter! You're not 'sponsible enough!" Sunset spat out unconvincingly, a hint of concern that their friend of once equal status could turn into yet another caregiver.
"Oh, Sunsie," I said, trying my best to imitate the condescending tone my Mommy used with me when I got high and mighty, "I'm not a baby like you though! Look at me, sitting in my big kid underwear. And look at you, I bet your diapers so soggy you're about to leak."
I extended one hand over to Subset's diapered crotch and squeezed it for emphasis. Too my utter delight, it was thoroughly soaked. Sunset, suddenly aware of the disastrous state of their diaper, turned bright red at my touch and tried to back away but only succeeded at falling on their back in the sand again.
"Aw! Did Little Sunsie fall down and go boom? Does the little baby in their soggy diaper not like being checked? Is it cause you want to keep playing in it like an icky little toddler? Is that why you don't wanna potty train and be a big kid like me?" I hovered over Sunset as I teased them, loving every second of watching their skin turn as red as a tomato out of fear, rage, and shame.
As I teased, Sunset couldn't even get a word out from where they lay in the sandbox. "I… No… Not… Baby… Gah… Big Kid… Diap…." Sunset's sputtering then suddenly stopped, and a big grin spread across their face. Unfortunately, I didn't notice it.
"Aw, is the little baby too little to talk! That's ok! Maybe I can go get your paci from your Daddy. Babies who waddle around in soggy pants like you shouldn't be talking like a big kid like me anyway!"
I couldn't stop. I was channeling all of the repressed anger and shame I had bottled up over the last few years as Mommy's perfect little pamper-packing, stuffy-humper. I was ready to throw every insult and taunt I had ever heard at Sunset, my friend, just so I could feel bigger and more powerful than someone else. I was becoming a monster in superhero underoos.
Luckily for me and my friendship with Sunsie, my reign of terror was cut short. From behind me, a familiar voice spoke.
"Beanie Baby! I did not just catch you bullying sweet little Sunsie. Come with me!"
As Mommy grabbed me by the ear, yanking me away, Sunset started laughing maniacally as they laid in the sand, excited to watch Mommy deliver whatever diabolical punishment I had earned.
I whined as Mommy dragged me across the park by my ear. "Owie! Mommy! This hurts! I didn't do nothing! I just said the truth."
"Madison James! I don't want to hear it. I heard what you were telling poor Baby Sunsie over there, and it was not acceptable!" Mommy lectured as she pulled me.
My bladder was starting to ache. The nervousness and fear of my punishment only adding to my desperation. I decided to change tack.
"Mommy! I hafta go potty!" I wailed, hoping my growing desperation to pee could distract my wife from my punishment.
It didn't.
"Well, if you're as big a kid as you were telling Sunset over there, you should have no problem holding it while you're being punished."
A new panic struck me as I suddenly realized that I might not be able to do that. I didn't want to go back to pull-ups, let alone diapers like Sunset because I had an accident while in time out!
I struggled uselessly against the grip Mommy had on my ear as she dragged me to the tree nearest to the playground.
"Nose to the tree. Now!" Mommy said as we reached our destination.
Rubbing my sore ear, I did as I was told, feeling the rough bark scrape against the tip of my nose.
"You have more than earned yourself a time out little one! Bullying poor Sunsie! In front of their Daddy! Do you know how embarrassed I am of you, Little Man? Do you know how bad you made me look as a Mommy and a wife?"
A tear rolled down my cheek as my wife explained how my actions made her feel. How could I have been so careless and thoughtless to not think about how my actions reflected on her? Midnight was one of her best friends, and I had embarrassed her in front of them. Maybe I was nothing more than the thoughtless child she thought of me as.
Mommy saw my tears and, instead of comforting me, leaned into my suffering.
"That's right baby, you embarrassed Mommy. You made Mommy look bad. You made Mommy look like she can't control you. I want you to think about that while you stand here for the next, oh, let's say, 30 minutes."
"30 minutes…" I tried to protest, but before I could say more, a pacifier was shoved in my mouth.
"No talking during time out. That stays in. And yes, 30 minutes," Mommy said sternly.
I grumbled behind my pacifier as I silently calculated whether I could actually keep from wetting myself for that long. Before I could come up with a plan to both stay put and dry, my thoughts were interrupted by the familiar feeling of my shorts being pulled down to my ankles.
"Oh, and since you were so proud of these undies, mister," my wife said from behind me, "I think it's only fair you get to show them off for your whole time out."
I was glad my face was towards the tree as a deep red blush bloomed across my cheeks. I could perfectly picture my cotton clad ass on display, the red, white, and blue picture of a web that made the undies look so cool and big kid in the store, making me look so childish while standing in time out.
Making matters worse, only moments after my undies were put on display, I heard Midnight's soft giggle behind me.
"Aw! Aren't those precious?" They said condescendingly.
I fresh wave of embarrassment passed through me at those words. However, I closed my eyes, bit down hard on my paci, and settled in to survive the next 30 minutes as best I could. The pressure from my bladder was only getting stronger, but I was determined to keep my underwear dry. I was a big boy, after all, really, nearly an adult again.
After 15 minutes, my determination not to wet myself had waned drastically. With my nose still pressed to the trunk of the tree, I shifted my weight from leg to leg, only able to do a pathetic little potty shuffle rather than a full on potty dance with my shorts still wrapped around my ankles.
The sound of a crinkling diaper announced Sunset's approach. Unable to turn to look at them, I could only imagine the satisfied smirk that I was sure was plastered to their face.
"Oh no! Does the BIG boy need to go potty? You better show the poor, little baby how to keep your undies dry! You wouldn't wanna have an accident in front a little kid like me!" Sunset taunted as they toddled closer to me.
I groaned behind my pacifier, not willing to risk the consequences of talking during time out. However, although I desperately wanted to yell at my friend to go away, I knew I deserved every insult they flung at me.
It only took moments for my friend's face to appear in the corner of my vision.
"Oh no, can Big Bad Maddie not talk right now because he's sucking on his paci? I thought paci's were for babies, not big kids?"
I groaned again, the sound muffled by the shield of the pacifier as I shuffled from foot to foot in discomfort again. The pressure in my bladder was so bad I could barely focus on Sunset's words.
"Oh no! You aren't doing a potty dance, are you Baby Bean? I bet you wish you were wearing a diaper right now! You could just let go," Sunset said before there expression changed as an idea hit them, "I mean, I gotta go potty too, and I can just go right now! Listen!"
With that, Sunset smiled, scrunched up their face and let loose. The sound of soft hissing as their urine hit their diaper filled my ears. The sound was too much. I couldn't hold it anymore. Tears started to well in my eyes as I felt a warm wet stream of pee release into my once pristine Spider-Man undies, only to immediately become warm, disgusting rivers of urine, running down my thighs.
As I felt my pee run down my legs into my shoes, I also could feel my chances of becoming a big kid again drift away too. I began to bawl behind my pacifier, not just because I was ashamed of my accident, but also because I was upset at myself for the bratty behavior that got me here.
"Oh, Baby Bean! Did you piddle in your cute Lil' Spider-Man undies? Spider-Man looks sad! He's not Aquaman. He doesn't like getting all wet," Sunset teased. Their words stung more because I knew they were in a soggy situation of their own that was somehow more babyish, but also less embarrassing. "Daddy! Maddie's Mommy! Maddie has an accident!"
My fear overwhelmed my sorrow as I heard Mommy and Midnight walk up behind me.
"What was that sweet, little Sunsie?" Mommy asked my friend turned temporary nemesis.
"Baby Bean wet his undies! Go look!" Sunset responded with more excitement than I really thought was necessary.
A soft, familiar hand grabbed my shoulder, gently inviting me to turn around. I didn't want to. Maybe, if I just stayed here for a while, my undies would dry and no one would be the wiser. It was hot out, after all.
Mommy wasn't going to let me live out my delusion though. "Turn around sweetie, let's see the damage."
Her instruction and a more forceful pull got me to turn around. A dark stain covered the entire front of my underwear. The streams of urine running down my leg were far too obvious. And, even the shorts and socks at my ankles were stained from my shameful accident. I wanted to cry as Mommy forced me to hold me arms up, beant over, and tugged disappointedly on my soaked Spider-Man undies as she inspected them.
"Beanie Baby, you destroyed these poor undies! And your shorts, socks, and shoes? I thought you were a big boy?" My wife chastised me as she pulled and picked at my soaked clothing. "You were doing so good I didn't even bring a change!"
I looked up to see Midnight given Sunset a similar inspection, albeit with much less disappointment in their demeanor.
"Looks like Little Mads isn't the only super soaker here, Sunsie's diaper is pretty wet too," Midnight said as they completed their inspection, "Did you say you didn't bring a change? I've got plenty of extra diapers in my bag and maybe some spare tights. Why don't we change these little stinkers together?"
"Midnight, you are a lifesaver! Are you sure you can spare a diaper? I know how many Sunsie goes through!" Mommy responded, causing Sunset to blush for once.
"I sure do! Sunsie can be quite the pamper packer sometimes, but if my Little Sunset needs to sit in their mess for a bit, they'll survive," Midnight answered.
As Mommy and Midnight talked about diapering me with Sunset, my outrage started to grow. I just had one accident! And I warned Mommy that I needed to go! She was the one that made me stand with my nose to the tree! I shouldn't be put back in diapers! Maybe a pull-up or training pants, but a diaper was too far. I opened my mouth to tell Mommy as much.
"Mommy, this…" That was as far as I made it before my wife shot a hostile glare towards me.
"No! I will not hear a word out of you, Madison James. I trusted you to be big. I trusted you to be kind. I trusted you to keep your pants dry. Obviously, I cannot trust you. You will be going back to diapers. I will not tolerate any grief. Otherwise, I will throw you over my lap and show you just how little you are, understood?"
My stomach dropped to my toes. I hadn't been lectured like that for years. Not stupid enough to risk my Mommy's wraith, I nodded my head and responded, "Yeth, Mama." I kept suckling the pacifier, now happy it was in my mouth for the comfort it provided.
Mommy helped me take off my wet clothes before taking my hand at the same time that Midnight took Sunset's. We were both led back to the bench where our two caregivers had been chatting earlier. Sunset waddled in their soggy diaper as I walked normally, save for being completely naked below the waist. Once at the bench, Midnight quickly pulled out a large blanket laid it on the grass.
"Alright little ones, lie down," Mommy said, directing Sunset and I to lay down next to each other to be changed like the small children we were being treated as, something we'd done together hundreds of times before.
We both quickly complied with my wife's gentle command as Midnight dug through their diaper bag, getting out changing supplies for two infantilized adults.
"Um, Maddie's Mommy?" Sunset asked as we waited on our backs.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Mommy answered.
"Do you think I could get your phone and watch a show while I got changed? I've been good and haven't had any screen time all day!" Sunset begged.
From across the nearby bench, Midnight called out, "Don't give it to them! It's my fault, really, but we're really trying to break little Sunsie's screen addiction."
Sunset pouted as Mommy smiled down at them. It didn't take long for Midnight to join us with two diapers in hand.
"Let's get these babies back to clean and dry!" Midnight announced as they knelt down and began unsnapping the buttons of Sunset's shortalls.
With expert hands, Mommy and Midnight changed me and Sunset. Where normally, Sunset and I would joke and giggle as we got changed together, today, with my fall from grace, I couldn't bring myself to even make eye contact with my friend as my wife wiped my butt and other delicate bits.
Mommy and Midnight had us both changed and back up quickly. Once I was standing in nothing but a T-shirt and a diaper in the grass, Mommy pulled me to the side.
"Maddie, your behavior today has been unacceptable. Clearly, you are not ready for the level of responsibility that I thought you were. Thinking you were was my fault. So, now, until you prove me otherwise, I am demoting you back to diapers, but know that that is based on my mistake, not yours," Mommy began.
"That said," Mommy continued, "You messed up too. I warned you to be nice. I warned you to keep your pants dry. You didn't. Sunset is your friend, and you bullied them. That is not okay."
"I am not going to make you finish your time out. I don't think you would learn anything from it," Mommy lectured, "But I do need you to do one more thing before you can go back to playing. I need you to apologize to Midnight for bullying her precious little one, and I need you to apologize to Sunset for being a bad friend. Can you do that for me?"
Looking down past the bulging diaper around my waist to my bare feet, I let myself feel shame for my behavior yet again. "Yeth, Mommy," I answered, the pacifier still stuck between my lips.
With that, I waddled off to do as Mommy asked. The bulk of the diaper between my legs felt both foreign after the months of training pants and underwear, but, at the same time, frustratingly familiar.
I approached Midnight first, feeling my apology to them would be easier. I popped my pacifier out of my mouth so my apology would sound more sincere.
"Um, Sunset's Daddy? I, um, am sorry for bullying Sunsie," I said timidly.
Midnight looked at me with gentle, but stern eyes.
"Thank you for apologizing, buddy, but it's not me who you need to apologize to, is it?"
I shook my head up and down. "No, it's not."
"Who should you apologize to, baby?" Midnight asked.
"Sunset," I responded meekly, avoid eye contact with my friend's daddy.
"Yes, Little One," they said softly, "But who else?"
I looked up at Midnight, confused. Who else was there to apologize to?
Midnight smiled knowingly, then looked pointedly over my shoulder. I turned and saw Mommy picking up our make-shift changing station.
"Was how you acted nice to your Mommy?" Midnight asked.
I looked down at my feet in shame again. "No, it wasn't. I probably owe her an apology too, huh?" I answered.
"What a smart boy! Maybe you'll get another chance at undies again, yet? I don't know if I can say the same about my Sunsie," Midnight said, turning to look at Sunset for the first time since we began talking and catching them digging through their diaper bag. "Hey! Get out of there! Go play! I didn't pack your tabbie and Daddy's phone is in my pocket! No screen time!"
As Sunset ran off chastened, I followed, wanting to apologize to my friend both because I was ordered to and because it was the right thing to do.
"Sunsie," I said as we reached to sandbox again, "I'm sorry I was mean to you. Can we still be friends?"
Sunset turned to me with their trademark bright and friendly smile. "Thanks for saying sorry, Mads! And, of course we're still friends! Who else is going to put up with my smelly butt and listen to me complain about being put in my crib early?"
Sunset followed up their statement with a big, warm hug.
"Now, let's play!" Sunset said.
I had to disappoint Sunset one more time today, though. "Sorry, Sunsie, I'll come play in a sec. I gotta go say sorry to Mommy first."
With that I turned and toddled back to Mommy, who was now sitting on the bench with Midnight again. Midnight smiled at me reassuringly as I approached, obvious remorse in my body language.
"Mommy?" I asked tentatively.
"Yes, Beanie Baby?" She responded, a note of frustration still lingering in her tone.
"I, uh, wanted to say, well," I took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I was naughty and embarrassed you. I shouldn't have." Tears started to flow as I remembered Mommy's angry lecture at the tree. "I'll never do it again! Please, just don't hate me!"
Mommy's body language and tone softened immediately as I broke down during my apology. She stood up from the bench and wrapped me in a comforting hug.
"Oh, Baby Bean, I could never hate you! Mommy was just frustrated. Everyone is naughty sometimes! You just got a little too big for your britches!"
I nuzzled into Mommy as she hugged and reassured me. She was right. I had gotten too big for my britches. But, a nagging feeling told me that Mommy was going to keep me nice and little from now on, so that being 'too big' would never be an issue again.
#ab/dl kink#ab/dl stories#ab/dl story time#ab/dl diaper#ab/dl couple#ab/dl mommy#ab/dl daddy#cg/l little#cg/l kink#Cg/l#AB/DL#ab/dl boy#md/lb kink#md/lb relationship#Too Big For His Britches
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#gif#ai#witch season#witchcore#witch#what for#chilling#vibing#country horror#countryside#country road#peasant#bless your heart#livin' in high cotton#too big for his britches#country express#folk horror
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Fierce and cute, that’s our Jojo-kun ♥️🐇⚔️🇯🇵
#miyamoto usagi#usagi yojimbo#proud papa#miyamoto jotaro#stan sakai#katsuichi#too big for his britches🤣#my childhood
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Y'know I've seen people say Sean's zany overconfidence is "unrealistic" but considering how much of a badass his father was I think it makes perfect sense
#imagine your dad was a famous fenian raider#who kicked ass in canada came back to ireland to become a politician and raise a son ALL WHILE BEING A WANTED MAN#darragh was such a cool guy they had to wait til he was asleep to get the bullet in his head#sean macguire#darragh macguire#i imagine sean bragging at camp about his da and how much he did for the movement#he was a cool guy c:#sean being too big for his britches IS very funny tho#i hope non-us-southerners understand that phrase lmao#and its not taken in a different context xD
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i'm living for you reblogging shithead conservative campaign pictures and telling them their staging sucks btw
to be clear most of their sins were by no means like, dealbreakers, more mid-high level critique than basic fuckups, and a bunch of ppl in my industry would be like "who cares get it done" etc, but then, that's why i'm so darn good at what i do isn't it
#local man too big for his britches tbqh#but i do in fact deserve to be cocky#i'll inevitably do big work eventually#just kinda gotta continue to be too good at my job lol
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usually the day after I post a selfie I'm contemplating deleting it and trying to return to my faceless internet existence
not today tho. I looked hot as fuck and everyone should know about it
#k's life updates#is this what self confidence is?#my ego is way too big for its britches right now#cryptid also looked very good#but he doesnt like his face on the internet so only I get to know the full extent of that ^.^
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out of context majoras mask art wip that won’t get done anytime soon (i shouldn’t have started it but it’s there now)
#too big for his britches but in the metaphorical emotional and angsty sense#my post#link#majoras mask#art#my art#emo weirdkid link makes a brief return say hello and goodbye for a bit agsjskdhsk#*emo and GOTH mostly
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Daredevil's Deborah Ann Woll Shares Her Favorite Charlie Cox Memory
Netflix's Daredevil star Deborah Ann Woll reflects on when she and Charlie Cox read the scene where Matt Murdock reveals his alter ego to Karen Page.
By André Joseph Nov 16, 2022 (X)
Speaking about her time on the Marvel Netflix series during her appearance on the Inside of You with Michael Rosenbaum podcast, the actor best known as paralegal Karen Page spoke fondly about working with Cox as Matt Murdock. But it was the third and final season of the series that stood out most for her because of the emotional turn in Murdock and Page's relationship.
"Every scene with him was a joy, but the beginning of Season 3, we were going to do a flashback to the scene that just followed his reveal that 'I am Daredevil' to Karen, and he and I had already had a lot of conversations about what had happened between then and the next time they met," Woll said.
She continued, "So, when Erik Olsen, our showrunner on Season 3, came in and said that he wanted to revisit that moment, he worked very closely with us, and wanted to know what had we imagined. He wrote a pass, and sent it to Charlie and I, and Charlie and I read through it and discussed it and sent back some thoughts, and there were rewrites. There was this really lovely, collaborative back-and-forth, and when we finally got there that day to shoot it, it just was another one of those moments with him where I was like, 'I'm just so grateful this is you, and not some a—hole who's too big for his britches.’“
#‘’not some a—hole who's too big for his britches’’ 😂#well yes that's one way to describe Charlie lol <3#deborah ann woll#charlie cox#matt murdock#karen page#daredevil#article#quotes
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Moominpappa's contempt for the Joxter is so palpable in Memoirs. Man gets so offended over the Joxter just speaking frankly and I find their dynamic hilarious.
#Joxter is there to humble his friend who can be a little too big for his britches#this is all coming from Joxter calling MP white and the man gets so offended#word bubbles
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[ah man. Kinda wanna bring my Brutal Medic back for the sake of him just screwing with everyone without consequences to him. Except for when his wives find out]
#he was originally a fandom less OC but he enjoys playing doctor and fucking with people#also may or may not be the embodiment of Pestilence#only because the original pestilence got too big for his britches and was fired
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“i don’t wanna toot my own horn or anything, but i think i’m basically the lord of all time, space, and dimension now.” ( lol from haze <3 the boy's too big for his britches )
"Lord of all time, space and dimension?" Zora glanced at him, both impressed and .. astonished about what that all could imply. Then again, given the nature of his work and where it goes- they know entirely too well what he may be referring to.
"That's a bold statement to make there, love. But.. it is fascinating. I'm sure there's so many layers to what you've been doing that could get you.. in such a place. Hm. Tell me more. "
Unfortunately for everyone, Z might be more into that concept than one would have readily expected.
"Is this the result of successful experiments... or, you can't say things like this so casually without the details. Or the awareness of how tenuous such ..influence may be. "
#asks#ic#unoinou#[he's too big for his britches and z is like.. hm#potential for something to go left as things often do]#[but still... heyyy]
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hello, im also trying to get back into the writeblr thing lol so far the tags have been a great place to find new blogs, so i'll throw mine in too!
writers, listen up...
i've fallen out of touch with the writeblr community a lot in the past few years, and i want to rectify that. the community aspect was what made me fall in love with tumblr, and what improved my writing for the better.
the golden days of my writing were when i was highly active and engaged in this wonderful community, but life and work and the horrors of self publishing have overtaken my energy in the past year. however, i have been really struggling with original writing, and i want to get back into the community here.
that said...
you write fantasy with queer characters
are an indie author
post frequently about your wips (taglists are a bonus!)
are queer
are a very active and friendly writer
if any of these apply
please, please reblog and tell me about your wip. gush over it. infodump. characters and ships and worldbuilding and plot, i want it all! this is your invitation to be as selfishly indulgent as possible. let's make some new friends and restore some community!!
boosts appreciated!
#reblog#im cain i write sci-fi and fantasy mostly#along with some things that toe the line between horror and dark fantasy#i also occasionally post poetry#my current wip is a high fantasy thats a small part of a larger universe#my mc is a witch healer who's trying to stop the apocalypse on the behest of the God of the End#with the help of the god's newest priestess and another witch who's too big for his britches#while also trying to shake off the Trickster God who's decided to tail him like a lost dog for reasons uthyr can't quite figure out#wip: the name. witch#writers on tumblr#writeblr
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I just read The Only One Left by Riley Sager in one sitting—and I’m so disappointed.
This was one of those books that did so well in the first four acts!!!—great characterization, great pacing, great atmosphere that builds a lot of tension—and then it just phenomenally shit the bed in the last fifth.
Just *entirely* destroys the momentum and story it’s built up by going for entirely outlandish last minute twists and turns it didn’t bother to put down the ground work to plausibly execute.
God, it’s like reliving the horror of reliving Games of Thrones.
I am so relieved I only bought this from Half Priced Books on store credit.
#I’m just so disgusted because it was actually so good and compelling for most of the novel#this dude just got way too big for his britches#he got caught up in the need to write a mystery novel with and ending that *no one* could see coming#that he just pulled the ending out of his ass
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CL: guess the heat drives people crazy
pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader
summary: you’re not used to having a boyfriend, let alone having a famous one. though you’d like to think you’re taking your new found status as a wag in your stride. charles certainly thinks so. [smau] [part 2 to this fic]
fc: faceless and some alexandra saint mleux
a/n: sorry this took so long! i was honestly kinda unsure how i wanted to do this. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to do a little storyline but i basically ended up just doing a bunch of little snapshots of their relationship 😇
@ynusername just posted…
liked by @rowan, @charlesleclerc and others
ynusername wildflowers, the waves where we met, on the way to our first dinner
chloegarelli i did that!☝🏻☝🏻
⤷ ynusername okay 😐 dont get too big for ur britches
user1 is that……..?
⤷ user2 CHARLES RIGHT?
⤷ user1 yes wtf!?
⤷ user3 you are delusional you can only see his hands
⤷ user2 AND?? he is in her likes
rowan we did it joe‼️
⤷ chloegarelli four years in the making iktr
⤷ chloegarelli i’d like to thank the american people and i’d like to thank democracy for this win
⤷ ynusername we are MONEGASQUE?
⤷ ynusername anyway u guys are the most insane couple i have ever met
⤷ rowan and you’re stuck with us foreverrrr
user4 no one is talking about how adorable this is. the waves where we met like UR KIDDING!
⤷ user5 if she is actually dating charles then he is literally the luckiest man alive
@f1wagupdates just posted…
tagged @ynusername @charlesleclerc
liked by @chloegarelli, @ynusername and others
f1wagupdates ‼️🚨 new wag alert 🚨‼️ monegasque painter yn yln has been spotted getting cozy with charles on his yacht. it’s believed they met while on holiday in italy several months ago🥺
user1 fell to my knees in the grocery store
⤷ user1 THAT SHOULD BE ME
⤷ user1 but if it had to be anyone else im glad its her
user2 oh i KNEW that was him on her instagram three months ago. vindication.
user3 stop she is so pretty
⤷ user4 like attracts like
rowan cats out of the bag @chloegarelli
⤷ chloegarelli WE DID THIS EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU
⤷ user5 thank you oh my god
⤷ user6 THANK YOU
⤷ charlesleclerc thank you😁
[❤️ by f1wagupdates]
user7 need to see them together at a race
⤷ user8 CHARLES GET HER ON THE PADDOCK
⤷ charlesleclerc 🫡
ynusername oh my god. not the picture of him pushing me into the water😐
⤷ user9 OH i love her ur honour
⤷ f1wagupdates I’M SORRY!
⤷ rowan don’t apologise its so perfect
⤷ charlesleclerc Stop I tripped!!!!!!!!! I told you!!!!!
⤷ ynusername u did NOT trip!!!!
⤷ user10 they are my everything wtf
@ynusername just posted…
tagged @charlesleclerc
liked by @charlesleclerc @f1 @scuderiaferrari and others
ynusername charles, the week we met we talked about what the monaco gp meant to you. the place your dreams took root, the one race you wanted so badly it hurt, the city you wanted to love you back. i could feel your yearning for that win as deeply as i feel for my own ambitions. i knew then that we understood each other like i have never understood anyone else in my life. and i knew, somehow i knew, that you would be on the top step of that podium. charles, i am endlessly proud of you and all the hard work you did to get here. you deserve this. i love you. and monaco loves you.
user1 charles monaco gp win you are everything to me
user2 they’re in love in love!!! WTFFFF
scuderiaferrari ❤️
user3 god let me have what they have i cant handle this
chloegarelli im tearing up yall are like my babies
user4 HE DID IT!!!!
charlesleclerc oh I love you I love you I love you
⤷ charlesleclerc How would I have done this without you?
⤷ ynusername I am so proud of you baby. I love you ❤️
⤷ user5 this interaction changed lives
⤷ user6 how do i reasonably find love after this. how am i supposed to be satisfied with anything less???
🎨 i just KNOW her caption would make the rounds on tumblr
#charles leclerc#f1#formula 1#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc social media au#charles leclerc smau#f1 x reader#f1 social media au#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc x artist!reader#requests#🍓anon#smau:cl16
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Back on my Wyll script doctor because I was talking about it with a friend. Specifically imagining a version of Wyll's big Character Choice that felt like it had some actual teeth.
Imagine a world where instead of a cartoon evil hot lady Mizora and Wyll's relationship actually had some complexity to it and like. some genuine push and pull which gives him temptation to stay. I just keep thinking about this 17 year old who his whole life wanted more than anything to be a hero, who got his chance to do something heroic and selfless and save the city from certain doom, and his reward is getting kicked out because he did it the "wrong way".
Imagine if instead of forcing his silence, Mizora instead comforted him. How unbelievably cruel of your father! Well...since you've nowhere else to go, why not stick with me? We make a pretty good team, as it turns out, and I can get you a whole list of monsters who need killing. Plenty of devils and demons loose in your world targetting all sorts of innocents. Our interests can keep aligning, and you get a place to sleep when you need it.
Wyll makes his peace with it, because he has nothing and no one. And Mizora's not GOOD maybe, not by Ulder Ravengard's definition. But she's fun. She delights in his growth. And she does certainly keep direct him at greater evils, devils who really do need killing. And if she spies on his every waking moment, well, she worries. If she sends him after the occasional innocent, well, she had people who she has to answer to as well. She's a devil, how much can he fault her for her nature? She's always seemed like she knew where the line was...
Karlach (and the player) express their doubts, of course, but for act one at least he's defensive. Yes, she punished him and he hates it and its miserable but....he was in breach of contract! She's NEVER gone outside its bounds, she's always stuck very closely to their agreement. Wyll, who wants so badly to trust others and believe everyone has the chance for good, can't find it in him to believe the worst even of a devil.
And Mizora is FOND of Wyll, loves him even in her way. As a cherished pet, as a trusted tool, as a best-laid plan. Never enough to choose his own well-being over her own agenda, never enough to see him as his own person. He's her little project, the long shot noble brat she gambled on when Tiamat decided to get too big for her britches. And it paid off! Wyll always pays off, currying her all the favor from Zariel she so desperately craves. And who are you, or anyone, to come between them? She's treated him well. As she's quick to remind him, she wanted him when no one else did, aided him while the rest of his city slept snug in their beds. And if Ulder Ravengard didn't want a son with a whiff of infernal, then do you REALLY think he'd want you with lovely horns and Avernus in your blood?
You discover his father's been taken. Beyond igniting a lot of old feelings, it brings up a question of succession. Of course, Florrick isnt giving up on him, but if not...there aren't currently any likely candidates to take over the Flaming Fists. Not trustworthy ones. Florrick will take the position, but everyone knows in the back of his mind Ulder never really stopped planning for it to be Wyll. With the city in chaos and a cult army on the rise, they may need an answer sooner rather than later. Wyll feels the call of the Gate, but knows just as well that Mizora wouldn't want him to return in such an official capacity.
For the first time ever the leash starts to chafe in a way he can't keep pushing through.
Act 2 rolls around. Mizora sends up the Warlock signal. After potentially some encouragement from the player, Wyll (NOT THE PLAYER. I DONT KNOW WHY ITS THE PLAYER IN THE GAME ITS WEIRD) hesitantly proposes that maybe, if he does this....they can do a renegotiation of his contract. Not break it, he assures her quickly! Just....reopen the terms, take a looks at the agreement. Maybe discuss an exit ramp? After all....I mean, neither of us truly thought I'd be doing this forever, did we?
Based on Mizora's reaction. Yeah she did.
But fine. She agrees. And Wyll's not mad that it turns out you're rescuing her, not a nameless "operative" for Zariel. He would've done that on his own had she asked. Its the fact that she apparently didn't feel like being honest, that she let him fret and worry about potentially handing Zariel back some runaway for basically no reason. Its the fact that she came here to check in on the cult that abducted his FATHER just to see if Zariel could make any use of them. And its the fact that she seems surprised and annoyed that ANY of this bothers him.
All this builds, of course, to the final confrontation. The basic elements are the same. Mizora outside the coronation (this time needling at Wyll, "I'll be at camp if you're not too high and mighty to consort with the likes of me anymore"), Ulder tadpoled and fighting it. Mizora makes her offer. I can end the contract now, and you're free to go running after daddy (who won't want you btw! not like I do!). You'll lose all your powers, all my aid, all those juicy quests to chase down the greatest monsters in the hells. Take on your father's job and settle in for a life of misery and compromise and only doing as much good as the nobles will let you. Or: pledge yourself to me, eternally. I'll give you a boatload of new powers and eternal life to boot, so long as you serve as my sword and shield.
From there I think three endings branch out, and with it three classes for Wyll. If he stays with Mizora, accepts a relationship where he will never be an equal or a free agent in exchange for the affirmation he wants so badly from his father, he remains a Warlock, with some juiced stats and extra spell slots, along with shiny new gear. If he pledges to follow in his father's footsteps, he instead becomes an Oath of Devotion paladin, pledging himself in service to Tyr, if with a sense of doomed finality. The Blade of Frontiers is officially retired, and along with it any identity he has outside of being his father's son. Or the third path, break the contract without taking his father's role. He will look for his father, yes, but whether or not you find him he's going back to his roots, travelling around to do some good in the world (as the Blade of Frontiers) or kicking ass in the Hells with Karlach (as the Blade of Avernus). In this timeline he becomes a fighter, with a default preference for Eldritch Knight.
What's important: if he breaks his contract then Mizora is NOT hanging around camp. She will leave in a fury, accidentally bound by her own word to withdraw her influence completely if he breaks his contract. She may still approach the player some night to sleep with the player, framed for high approval/romanced players and her trying to take something back from Wyll. But Wyll will have to learn how to define himself without her breathing down his neck, without keeping her happy dominating his every thought. Its nervewracking, and even lonesome at times...but its freedom. And, perhaps, that's worth a little bit of lonesomeness.
#long post#again i want to be clear because i think wyll fans are a little understandably defensive of him#this is not about wanting wyll to be a bad person#its about wanting him to have an arc that parallels the rest of the companions#and be more firmly centered on HIS feelings and choices#ive done my best to preserve wylls canon temperament here#just give the circumstances more teeeth#bg3#baldurs gate 3#wyll ravengard#mizora#ulder ravengard
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do you have any headcanons for arguing and making up? i’m a slut for angst with comfort 🙈
Making Up After a Fight
Gender Neutral Language!
Genre: slight angst, fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, and Sean MacGuire Warnings: Dutch is kind of toxic | Not edited
AN: Sorry it took me so long to get these written! I went through some nasty writer's block and decided to play the game a little to help out but all that did was distract me for a week. This is definitely pretty roughly written - I'm also a huge slut for angst with comfort, though, so I hope you like these! <3 ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions
<><><><>
Arthur Morgan:
Arthur gets frustrated easily when he feels like he’s not being listened to or understood. It’s not really anyone’s fault, but his emotions can get the better of him and he’ll say something that he doesn’t mean.
“You got bait for brains or are you just being an idiot for fun?” (or something like that)
You know in the back of your head that he doesn’t mean it, and he regrets it the second the syllables bounce off his lips. Your brain can know something but your heart will still hurt all the same.
Usually when Arthur is getting too big for his britches with you, you can shut him down and put him in his place. It’s something he highly respects about you - not putting up with his bullshit when he gets like that. Sometimes, though, your eyes will start to water and you can’t say anything without feeling a lump in your throat constricting your vocal chords.
You have to turn and walk away or else you’ll cry in front of him. That would just make everything worse.
Seeing your form retreating, knowing that you’re running off because you’re hurt rather than angry, made Arthur’s chest grow heavy with guilt. His first instinct is to follow after you and hold you until you’re feeling better.
But since he’s the one who hurt you, he just lets you walk away and he goes to pout since he thinks he deserves to be outcast for a little while.
He’ll give you as much space as he can bear, avoid you for an hour maybe two, but he comes crawling back with those puppy dog eyes and a singular wild flower in his fist.
He’ll go to his cot where you’re sitting with his hat in your lap. You stopped being upset five or ten minutes after the argument. Once you took a few deep breaths you understand, but you also had to understand that Arthur would come back to you after he was done punishing himself.
So you waited.
When you saw him approach with that sheepish expression and slouched posture your heart bled for him. He was a brute and an ass at times, but he meant well.
“’M’sorry, Darlin’,” He’d mumble and get on his knees in front of you. “I didn’t mean it, I never mean it.”
He places the flower in your lap by his hat and gazes up at you. His hair is long and falling in front of his eyes a little, so you brush the strands away from his forehead to get a better look at him.
His blue eyes are a little red and there’s a deep crease in his forehead from an hour or so of constant worrying.
“You can be so mean sometimes, Arthur Morgan,” You scold him lightly and he sighs, nodding.
“I know.”
He spends the rest of the week making it up to you. Truly it doesn’t matter exactly what was said or what the argument was about, when you are truly hurt by his words/actions it kills him. He’ll punish himself for a bit then come back ready to spoil you with words, presents, kisses, and anything else you could possibly ask for.
John Marston:
He’s constantly arguing with you about something. A lot of the time he just picks at you to get a rise out of you - he thinks it’s funny.
Things can get out of hand quickly with him if he grates on a nerve of yours and you bite back though. His first instinct is to give a smartass retort and it just spirals into a full-blown fight from there.
“John Marston you are a pig!”
You storm off and hide in your tent for a while. He’s just standing there dumbfounded. He starts asking himself why he let it get to that point, why did he have to open his big ol’ mouth and antagonize you?
He tries to get you to talk to him, he’ll pace in front of the tent and start calling your name nicely. He won’t ever open the flap though, he doesn’t want to invade your space and risk riling you up anymore.
When you ignore him he’ll eventually get the hint and wander off.
He tries to figure out something to do while he thinks about how to make it up to you. He offers to help Arthur out with any bounty hunts or little jobs, he’ll offer to take Bill or Lenny into town, or he’ll just pick up extra shifts of being on lookout for the camp.
When you finally come out he has to restrain the urge to run to you and scoop you up, demanding that you forgive him so that he can stop pouting.
He does drop whatever it is he’s doing to approach you and makes small talk to test the waters.
“How are you?”
“Fine, John.”
“That’s good… You still mad at me?”
You roll your eyes and try to walk away, but he shoots out and grabs your hand before you can get too far. He doesn’t hold you tightly; his fingers gently encase your own, if you wanted to leave you could easily. But, you falter with your back turned to him and wait for him to speak.
“I’m sorry, really. You know I’m an idiot.” He’s practically whining as he says it, begging for you to look at him.
You turn your head slightly to give him a side glare. At first, the sight makes his heart drop into his feet and he thinks he really screwed up this time, but when a small smirk starts to quirk the corner of your mouth upwards he lets out a low sigh.
“You are cruel,” He chuckles and tightens his grip as he pulls you into his arms and wraps you up in a bear hug.
Your laughs are loud and genuine as he twirls you around, pressing chaste kisses to your cheeks as he does so. Your voices echo throughout the camp once again.
Everyone in camp knows what’s going on with you and John whether you’re fighting or making up, your business is everyone else’s.
Dutch Van Der Linde:
I want to start out by saying Dutch never actually apologizes when you two fight. He’ll buy gifts, say pretty words, whisper sweet nothings, and all the like, but the words “I’m sorry” have never left that man’s lips in his entire life. He will not start now.
Dutch’s obsession with the O’Driscoll’s can cloud his judgment on many things, it makes him blind to reason. Further than that, it makes him hateful and sometimes just plain mean.
He trusts you, he loves you. So, you’re stuck listening to his plans and his grievances with the gang, the law, the O’Driscoll’s, and any other misfortune he has had to endure in his life.
He’ll go on and on, plotting, groaning, whining. One night, after being sat on his cot for hours, you’ve had enough. You beg him to do anything but complain and come up with a half-brained plan to get rich quick.
It hits a nerve and he blows a fuse.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake, do you?” He’s practically yelling. “It’s so easy for you - I spoil you!”
You’re stunned into silence as he shouts at you. You didn’t expect him to blow up.
“Get out of my tent, get out of my sight!” He sends you away. In a daze you stumble out of the tent and into the dark camp.
There’s a few people still up wandering around. Mary-Beth is singing by the fire and Kieran is trying to sing with her, but doesn’t really know the words. Your feet start moving on their own and you take a seat across from the two at the fire.
“What’s going on, gunslinger?” Karen shuffles to a seat beside you and settles down. Mary-Beth’s singing falters for a minute but she continues on, just quieter.
“Dutch is pissed.” You mumble, staring into the flames.
“When is he not? Have a drink,” Karen shoves a bottle of beer into your hand and watches as you take a long swig. She continues, “Have some fun without him for once.”
The night takes a turn from there. You sing and dance and laugh. A few more people join in until it’s gone from moping around the fire to a proper party around it. Javier even brings out the guitar. The noise is enough to draw Dutch from the dark hole in his tent to see what’s going on.
When he sees you, the tears on your cheeks have dried and your face is flushed from the drinks, he can’t help but feel a little guilty. To him, afterall, you were just naive. You didn’t understand what was truly going on in the camp, didn’t understand his plans.
He creeps out of the tent and sneaks up behind you as you’re dancing along to Javier and Mary-Beth. When a pair of arms wraps around your waist, you let out a little squeal.
Dutch spins you around so that you’re facing him, your bodies pressed flush together causing a heat to flare in your stomach.
“My beautiful dancer,” Dutch mumbles and presses a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t fight, don’t ask any questions. You’re just happy that he seems to be sorry for what he did. He’s holding you after all of that, kissing you. He must be sorry, and so are you.
When he pulls back you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes. “I’m sorry, Dutch.” You whisper.
“Hush now,” He starts swaying as he holds you, leading you into a dance.
Your fight is practically forgotten by the end of the night. In the early hours of the morning, everyone is stumbling back to their respective beds. Stomachs are full and heads will be aching come noon, but to you it was all worth it. So long as you and Dutch aren’t fighting anymore.
Javier Escuella:
He hates fighting. I mean not in general, but just with you.
He won’t allow himself to be taken advantage of or walked all over, but if there’s some stupid argument that’s making you mad he will roll over and apologize. Just to keep the peace.
He loves you more than he loves being right, and if it makes you happy to just admit that then so be it.
When y’all do fight, though, it’s over something big. Stupid quarrels are so rare that the first time anyone catches wind that the two of you had a falling out it shocks half the camp to the core.
Javier would only truly get upset with you in a life or death situation. Like when you decided to not tell anyone you were heading into town really quick and met a few O’Driscoll’s in the general store.
When you saw them you recognized them as few that had gotten into a fight with Javier in town a few weeks ago. Javier let them walk away to save face, there was a large group of witnesses that would have pretty much guaranteed him an execution if he had taken their lives.
Your heart skipped a beat as one of them turned to look at you, but they left shortly after you entered the store and you prayed that would be the end of it.
After you finished at the store, though, you walked through the door to find the three men standing in the road before you. Their arms were folded across their chests and their legs spread in a dominant stance.
You clutched the items you bought to your chest and tried walking away from the trio, but one of them called out and made you stop in your tracks.
“You’re one of Dutch’s people ain’t you?” The tallest one said. It wasn’t really a question, he knew who you were.
“And what’s it to you, mister?” You shot back, reaching for the dagger in your belt.
“I’ve got a few questions for you about your boss.” The three of them started moving towards you. They surrounded you and backed you to the wall of the general store. You whipped out your dagger to tell them to back off, but it wouldn’t do much against three of them - you knew that and so did they.
The only reason you had made it out of that situation without even a scratch was because Arthur happened to be riding through town on his way back to camp and noticed the commotion.
He brought you back to camp, and that’s where you saw Javier standing at your cot with this arms crossed and a scowl darkening his features.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He practically shouts at you.
You didn’t mean to, you held them back as long as you could, but tears start flowing freely down your face in large, hot drops.
Javier’s scowl disappears almost immediately. He didn’t expect you to cry. Maybe yell back or explain yourself, but not cry. He drops his arms and grabs both of your hands in his.
“Are you okay?” His voice is low and laced with worry. Arthur got to him first and told him what happened briefly, so he knew you weren’t physically hurt, but other than that he didn’t know what happened.
“They surrounded me. I was - I was so scared, Javier.” Your throat was thick and it was hard to speak. Javier embraced you, rubbing your back and holding the back of your head as you cried harder into his shoulder.
“You’re safe now,” He assures you and presses soft kisses into your hair.
He spends the next few days feeling guilty for being mad at first.
You tell him you understand his reaction and that you were sorry,but he just says sorry back to you and claims he shouldn’t have been angry when you were scared.
You’re both equally sorry, I guess.
After that, though, Javier refuses to let you go anywhere alone. You don’t have to go with him but you have to have a traveling buddy in case anything like that happens again.
Charles Smith:
Doesn’t fight with anyone, really.
Sure, you can get mad at him and yell and hold a grudge, but he just lets you figure your emotions out from afar if that’s what you need. He gives you space when you need it, attention when you want it, and does anything that he can for you.
He loves you more than anything in the world, so when you’re mad at him it eats away at his insides until you make up. He’s literally the consent king, though, and will wait for you to come to him before he initiates anything.
It feels like he doesn’t care sometimes. It drives you crazy that he doesn’t chase after you and try to make up with you then and there or rectify the situation immediately, which turns into another argument.
“Do you even give a shit what I feel?” You frown at him one morning after a small argument that he just brushed off from the night before. He assumed since you slept with him in his bedroll, that meant you were over it.
“I love you! What are you talking about?” He rubs at the little stubble on his chin in exasperation.
“You never listen you just say ‘okay’ and move on. You don’t learn that way, Charles. You roll over and the same thing will keep happening because you aren’t listening.” You try to explain yourself. Charles nods but you can’t tell if he actually gets what you’re trying to convey since he never acknowledges it more than that.
You sigh and get up.
“I need a minute, come talk to me when you can.” You walk away from him and towards Miss Grimshaw doing the laundry.
Charles just stays where he is and lets out a long deep sigh. He thought it would be better for him to just agree with you, it would make you happy to be agreed with rather than continuing to fight over something so trivial.
He hasn’t been with the group for a super long time, but he’s created a strong bond with Arthur. So, that’s who he goes to to ask for advice on the whole situation.
Charles relays as much as he can back to Arthur and the cowboy just starts to chuckle at the absurdity of the conversation. He’s used to people coming to him for advice (he doesn’t really get why), but the situation with you and Charles came out of nowhere for him. He didn’t realize you two fought ever.
“No relationship is perfect, Charles.” Arthur suggests.
That’s literally no help to him so Charles walks off and tries thinking what to do. He comes up with nothing, though. Which makes him frustrated.
He starts walking towards you. You look up and see his determined face and scrunched brow and excuse yourself to meet him halfway.
“We need to talk.” He says, his words are intense but his gaze is still soft. You aren’t scared of him anyways.
“I think we do.” You reply and follow him to a private area right outside of camp.
The whole time he goes off about how he doesn’t get what you want from him. What you expect him to do or say when you get mad or annoyed.
“I just want to know you care about me and my emotions.”
“Dear, I care about you more than anything in the world. More than life itself, why do you question it?” He’s basically pleading with you to understand him, to finally see that just because he isn’t as forward with every single thought (good or bad) on his mind doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you or your emotions.
It takes little to no time for you to throw your arms around him in an embrace and mumble an apology into his hair.
Even your big fights aren’t really fights.
Sean MacGuire:
Sean does stupid stuff all the time. Literally he does stupid stuff more often than he does anything smart.
Especially when he’s drunk.
One night a small group of some of the gang decided to head into the saloon in town for a drinks for the night. You and Sean were always up for a good time and tagged along - obviously.
It presented opportunity for a little pickpocketing as well (if you didn’t get too drunk and sloppy to do it).
Everything went well for the first hour. Drinks were shared among the group and laughs were bellowing through the air with a contagious warmth. Better yet, no one seemed to be testing the waters and starting a bar fight.
Sean had his arm around you the entire night. He claimed it was to let all the scoundrels at the bar know that you were his and no one should even try to stake a claim to you.
You rolled your eyes but stayed nestled in the spot.
That is, until you were pulled away by your bladder. All the drinks were catching up to you and you slipped from under him to run to the restroom really quick.
When you came back, though, a working woman had taken advantage of your absence to catch Sean’s attention.
In his drunken state, Sean couldn’t even realize that the weight of the woman beside him wasn’t the same as when you were sitting there before. He didn’t say a thing as her arms wrapped around his torso or when she ran her fingers through his longish hair.
Tears fill your eyes almost instantly. You try to blink them away and get a better look at the scene in front of you, but it doesn’t change. It only gets worse as her lips start leaving rougey red stains on his neck.
“Sean!” You shove at his shoulder. When he sees you in front of him, his bleary red eyes turn to the woman beside him. His brain takes a minute to put two and two together, but by the time he has figured the situation out you are pushing through saloon patrons to get out into the night air.
Sean sobers up immediately. He pries himself out of the grasp of the other woman and follows your trail out the door.
He calls your name over and over again until he finally finds you sitting on the street corner crying into your knees.
“Please, Love!” He approaches you and your head whips up at the sound of his voice.
“You stay away from me you dog.” You snap and get up. You’re still pretty drunk as well however and you wobble and nearly fall over at the sudden movement.
Luckily Sean catches you by the arm before you can tumble into the dirt.
“I didn’t know she was there, honest. Thought you was there beside me.” He lifts a hand to your cheek, ready to brush away some of your tears, but you turn your cheek and shrug him off.
“Sure.” You say and try to walk away. He catches your arm again and turns you towards him once more.
“Honest, Love. Why would I pay for sex anyways - I’ve not a penny to me name and you give it to me for free.”
The sentiment was there, but definitely not the right thing to say.
You have to physically restrain yourself from hitting him upside the head at his words.
He sees the struggle on your face as soon as he says it and clamps a hand over his mouth.
“Sean MacGuire you bastard!” You shout at him, but can’t help a weak laugh from erupting from your throat at the end.
“I didn’t mean that, oh lord I didn’t.” The terror in his face only causes you to laugh harder.
The laughter surprises him and even yourself, so much so that the both of you are laughing. Though you don’t really understand why.
“If you ever-“ You say with a mocking glare, “Ever do something like that or say something like that again, I am leaving you Sean MacGuire.”
“I wouldn’t blame you one bit,” He says somberly, still with a small smile.
<><><><>
I didn't write for Sadie because I genuinely could not think of a situation for her or how she would be, my brain died halfway through writing Sean's. I'll just have to write some Sadie focused hc's next time teehee~
#arthur morgan#rdr2#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan rdr2#rdr2 arthur#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 x reader#red dead redemption#john marston#john marston x reader#dutch van der linde#dutch van der linde x reader#javier escuella#javier escuella x reader#charles smith#charles smith x reader#sean macguire#sean macguire x reader#rdr2 headcanon#rdr2 headcanons
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