#but only because john would get angry at me if i said anything else
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consult-sherlockholmes ¡ 2 years ago
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i want to get high. talk me out of it?
Don't do it. There, happy now?
If your self-control depends on my statement, then it really is a wonder that you even asked that question at all.
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gloomwitchwrites ¡ 10 months ago
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Secret relationship and they find out you're being transferred to a different team.
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Anon...how DARE you. But really, the angst that this prompt is giving is everything. I want to warn readers now that I was not nice with this one. There is a lot of angst happening here. There is nothing spicy about it. It's all pain with a little comfort sprinkled in for a few of our boys.
(Sorry not sorry)
These are presented in four individual double drabbles.
Content & Warnings: angst, mild emotional hurt/comfort, secret relationships, yearning, heartbreak, 141!reader
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish
“We’ve got two weeks!”
“Soap.”
“Can you believe that?”
“Johnny.”
Soap’s smile remains but melts slightly. “What?”
“I’m leaving.”
He chuckles. “We both are.”
You shake your head. “No. I’m leaving the team.”
Soap frowns slightly. “Retirement?” He shrugs. “Seem a bit young.” That smile returns and he saunters forward, his large hands grasping your hips. “Means we can go public.”
He leans in for a kiss, but your heart isn’t in it. Soap realizes the reluctance the moment your lips meet. “It’s something else,” he says.
You nod because that is all you can manage. Originally, Captain Price said he wanted to tell the team together, but he doesn’t know about you and Johnny. Soap needs to know first before the rest. If not, it’ll come as a blow and a betrayal. You can’t do that to him no matter what Captain Price says.
“I’m being transferred,” you murmur, voice breaking slightly.
Soap does not retreat. He rests his forehead against your own, eyes closing as he inhales. His arms slide from your hips to your back, drawing you against him.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says rubbing your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Kyle enters the meeting room. It’s the last one before everyone breaks for a month.
But there is someone missing.
Laswell and Captain Price talk quietly, their heads bent in conversation. Soap is showing something to Ghost on his phone.
You are not among them. You are not in your usual spot.
Laswell glances up and Price clears his throat. “We can start.”
“Hold up, Captain. We’re missing one.”
Kyle gestures toward the chair you usually sit in and Price frowns.
“Transferred on another mission,” interrupts Laswell.
Kyle says nothing, sinking into his chair. He listens but most of it slips right out of his head. The only thing he can think about is that you’re not here and you didn’t say anything.
When Laswell and Price are finished, and everyone begins to exit, Kyle lingers, intent on talking to Price.
“Not gonna talk about our missing team member?”
“Nothing to say,” shrugs Price. “Transferred this morning.”
Kyle swallows down the emotion rising in his throat. No one knows about the two of you, and if he pushes too much, he might reveal something he shouldn’t.
“Coming back?” asks Kyle.
“Eventually,” answers Price. “Not sure when.”
Eventually. There’s hope then.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“You’re leaving.”
“Simon.”
“Did you plan on telling me?” You remain silent and Simon shakes his head. “Waiting for Price to do it?”
“That’s not true.”
Simon takes a step forward, entering your space. “I saw the transfer on his desk. I saw the date. How long have you known?”
“Does that matter?” you ask.
“Of course it does,” he snaps.
Simon is never angry, not with you. His anger is subtle which makes it more terrifying. This is something else. Simon is hurt, and you’re the cause of it.
“I’m sorry you found out like this. I planned on telling you.”
“When?” He’s closer now, towering over you.
“When I had more information.”
“More information?”
“I don’t know where I’m going or with who,” you add.
“Might not tell you until you get there. Happens all the time.”
You understand his meaning and know that Simon is right. Would you have left without telling him anything, only saying something once you’d left?
No. This thing between you might be tangled but he is the only one you want.
“Are you upset?” you ask.
Simon deflates. “Not with you.” He tugs you against him, creating a cocoon of warmth. “Never.”
John Price
The transfer papers mockingly stare at Price.
All this time, he believed he could have you without repercussion. Didn’t matter that you were another member of the team and his subordinate. You were his, and Price could protect you.
But these papers came from someone above him, and he cannot refuse them. No matter how much he wants to.
And no one knows what the two of you do when there isn’t anyone looking. But now, that’s shattered. Broken. And Price must grieve for your departure in silence. Price has already raged. He punched the wall until his knuckles bled.
After that, he walked until he came to terms with it.
You don’t know yet. You have no idea. Telling you will be the hardest part. What will happen? How will the two of you move forward? Can the secrets remain, or will it all need to be out in the open?
Price sighs and runs his hands over his face.
This is a punishment. Must be. Why else is it happening?
There is a loud knock at the door. Again, Price sighs, knowing that he has to face the reality of the situation.
You are on the other side.
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@childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666
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@enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project
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@hantheconqueror @sapphichotmess
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yourmidnightlover ¡ 9 months ago
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control
(forever? pt 2)
pairing: mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader (arranged marriage)
summary: after a rough night with bucky, you wake up alone and get some frustrating news from your beloved husband
warnings: reader is insecure/doubts, not eating for 24 hours (out of protest), kind of controlling bucky, violence, if i missed anything, please let me know!
w/c: 2.7k+
a/n: hiii! this is the second part that was in high demand after i posted forever? i hope y'all like it! this has been sitting in my drafts for what feels like forever and i finally have had a chance to share it with you all! i hope it's worth the wait :)
part 3 -> the story
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you woke up alone, just like every morning in the past two months with the exception of the smell of his cologne only a whisper on your bedsheets. 
maybe you shouldnt have expected anything else from him. he had just felt bad about what happened, about making you cry, that’s all. he couldn’t have you running out on the deal that was made. he just had to save face. it was all business…
there was another knock on the door. two days in a row, which was rather surprising. 
opening the door, you come face to face with bucky’s right hand man, steve. his kind blue eyes shone with a hint of remorse, likely knowing at least a bit of what happened last night from his boss.
“hi,” you smiled, your hand remaining on the doorknob.
“hey,” his eyes examined your face, probably to report back to bucky on how you were doing. as if he couldn’t check on you himself. “are you hungry?”
you turn around to look at the clock that reads 12:30.
“i didn’t realize how late it was,” you shook your head as he chuckled. 
“you probably needed the rest after…” he inhaled a sharp breath. “anyway, bucky wants you to head up to the office. told me to make sure you ate too.”
why couldn’t he show you how caring he was?
maybe that’s why he left so early… because he had stuff in the office to take care of. that was what your mind would assume to save your own ego, at least. 
he took you by a mom and pop diner around the corner from their office, let you eat as many waffles and pieces of bacon as your heart desired until he discreetly paid the bill and then you made your way to the office to meet with your husband. 
stopping outside his door, you heard his voice ringing angry and raging. 
“i said to find him. i don’t care if you have to work all day and night to do it. i’m gonna find out where he is. nobody touches what’s mine and gets away with it.”
was he talking about you? or was he talking about another one of his many possessions or assets. either way, with the tone he was talking about everything, even if he was talking about you, he made it seem as though you were merely an object that was in his trophy case. if he was looking for john in order to reprimand him, it was likely to send a message to everyone else that dared look at him. to ensure they didn’t see him as weak.
he would never do anything for you out of the kindness of his heart, surely.
“do whatever needs to be done. end of discussion.” you heard a dial tone end, followed by steve knocking on the door. 
“glad you made it safely,” bucky nodded towards steve before glancing at your form tucked behind him. “how’re you feelin’?” you shrugged. 
“fine, i guess.”
“thank you, steve,” seemingly dismissing steve, he left the room promptly. “i wanted to talk with you about something.” you remained quiet; he sighed before continuing. “i’ve made some arrangements to get you your own personal bodyguard, for when i’m not around to ensure your safety. they would be ‘round the clock unless approved otherwise or when i’m available to be around you.”
“so i would be watched 24/7?” you finally piped up. “like a child?” you voice was still meek as you mentioned your objection.
“it’s for your safety.” he stepped closer to you, not missing the way your body tensed at the movement. “so that something like what happened last night doesn’t happen again,” his jaw tensed, seemingly at the mention of what happened. 
so someone doesn’t touch his precious trophy again, you thought to yourself. 
“i’m a grown woman. i barely even leave the house, and you think i need more surveillance?” your brows furrowed together as you shrunk into yourself, your shoulders deflating at the thought of losing even more of yourself to this marriage. 
“it happened at our house,” bucky reminded you.
“it happened with you right around the corner, too. y’might as well have a drone following me around at that point,” you scoffed quietly. “what? next i won’t be able to shower by myself.”
“if that’s what it takes to ensure your safety, then that’s what’ll happen.” there was no playfulness or sarcasm in his tone.
“i was joking, you can’t be serious,” you looked at him, feeling stubborn tears beginning to well in your eyes. 
“deadly,” he assured you, his brows raised and his serious tone piercing your heart. “whatever it takes.”
you shook your head as you turned to the door. “no.”
your hand reached the doorknob before he added, “i was running this by you as a courtesy. not to get your permission.”
you froze in your steps, turning to him with a questioning look. a couple tears finally broke free from the dam before you responded, “then what was the point?” with that, you walked out of his office, turning to steve. “is it you?” after seeing the tears streaking your face, the choked sobs leaving your throat, he looked to the ground in defeat. you had your answer. and bucky had your freedom in his hand. 
you really were just a device for him at this point. you play the part of a loving, devoted wife while he probably does whatever he pleases to maintain his image to the public. 
you understood that their businesses were in the public eye and that the news of a finance business being absorbed how it was would draw a lot of attention, but nothing made sense right now. he was being so serious about it all. 24/7 surveillance, a fucking bodyguard… for a finance business merge. it was disheartening, to say the least.
it’s not like you had a say in the matter, anyway. so, steve escorted you safely from the premises back to your gated house, where you locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. 
you didn’t open the door when he tried to ask what you wanted for dinner, or when he tried to give you a sandwich. 
you didn’t even open the door when bucky tried to knock himself once he got home at 11p.m.
or in the morning when they tried to give you breakfast.
or at noon when steve insisted on lunch.
“it’s been almost 24 hours since you’ve eaten,” steve sighed from the other side of the door as you sat at your desk, pen doodling meaningless lines in your notebook as you stared at the blank word document. “bucky’s not gonna be happy if he finds out you haven’t been eating or talking or… anything. you know i have to tell him.”
and you stayed quiet. 
if he wanted a polite little trophy wife, he would get one. but last time trophy wives were a thing was in the 40s, and they weren’t really allowed to say much, so you figured you’d follow suit. 
kind of like your own version of a peaceful protest. 
apparently bucky wasn’t very happy about that. 
he showed up knocking on your door not 20 minutes after steve tried to insist on lunch again. at least he wasn’t busting the door down, much to your surprise.
“it’s bucky, but i’m sure you’ve figured that out,” his voice rang with a certain softness he had with you only two nights ago. “i told steve to go for a little walk so i could talk with you. i was hoping you’d maybe respond?” he tried to open the door, finding it remained locked. “sweetheart, please just eat something. you haven’t even had water since yesterday. you know you have to drink something.” 
you suppose it would look pretty bad for him if his dear wife went to the hospital for dehydration, or starvation for that matter. has the bucky barnes been treating his wife as less than? or has he simply forgotten about his wife? perhaps she’s a weak point for him? 
although he probably wouldn’t admit you to the hospital, he’d probably hire someone to come to the house themselves, sworn to secrecy of some sort. 
you heard rustling on the other side of the door, not footsteps, more like clothing being rustled followed by a thump. his voice rang out lower on the door when he spoke, “i know you’re not happy about having a bodyguard. i understand, i do. you think your freedom is being tarnished and threatened and this is you trying to control what little you can because of that.”
how can he act like he knows you so well? the man who made it seem as though the marriage would be at least a partnership before the words ‘i do’ were uttered. after the honeymoon a flip must’ve been switched in his brain, telling him you were a little toy for him rather than the partner you had agreed to be.
but, after plenty of time to think, you’ve come to realize that you were being rather selfish. as much as you wanted your freedom. you wanted to stick it to the man and tell him that you deserved respect, because you did. 
you also had a duty to your family, to keep them safe. being in this marriage was the only way to do that. and if any questions arose, like bucky’s care for you, then your family would be in danger. 
with a click, you unlocked the door. he must’ve heard it because he slowly opened the door and took a step inside your room, a few feet from you.
“i’m sorry,” you looked at the collar of his suit rather than his eyes. “i’ve been acting rash and immature. i apologize for that.”
“i didn’t-”
“i won’t question your authority again,” you were picking at your nails. “i understand that you need steve to make sure nobody harms me to maintain your image. i respect that. i respect your decision.”
you couldn’t bare to look at his face. your gaze shifted to the floor as he began to nod. 
“does that mean you’ll eat something?” you nodded, chewing on your lower lip before responding. 
“i’m sorry for taking time away from your business,” you moved the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ears, doing anything you could to distract yourself. “i now how valuable your time is.”
“you’re more valuable than all the time i have,” he took a step closer to you before you felt his index finger and thumb gently holding your chin, nudging your head up to look him in the face. “do you understand?” his blue eyes were full of emotion, a mix of them, at that. if you squinted it was almost like there were tears building at the corners of his eyes. but you weren’t squinting anymore. you saw the full picture quite clearly with your eyes wide open. 
“i understand,” you nodded curtly.
you did understand.
you understood that he had an image to maintain. that image, for you and your family, was for him to be a devoted, loving husband to his equally loving and devoted wife. 
his image is his reputation, and no money in the world could buy the reputation he has. 
he let go of your chin, cupping the sides of your face before he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, “i brought your favorite with me. steve’s warmed it up in the microwave for when you’re ready for it. just… eat whatever you can. if you’re still hungry i’d gladly go and grab some more for you.”
“aren’t you going back to the office?” you, voluntarily this time, looked into his eyes with furrowed brows. 
“no, my love,” he shook his head before dropping his hands from your face. “i told them i needed to spend the rest of the day with my wife.”
of course. if steve knew about last night, people at the office probably did too. it would look pretty lousy if he didn’t look after his wife after an incident like that. 
“oh,” you nodded as you broke eye contact once more. “that sounds nice.”
you followed him downstairs, where steve had already set your food aside for you to start on. not eating for so long truly did affect you more than you thought. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were, finishing the entire meal in less than 15 minutes. 
bucky was sitting beside you, eating his own food as he made sure you ate and drank, and noticed when you made a happy plate, and cup, might he happily add. 
“wanna go get some more now?” he let his hand float to your hair, raking through your messy locks with a smile growing at the corner of his lips. 
“no, that’s okay,” you shook your head, not wawnting to bother him more than necessary. 
“if you’re still hungry, then that’s not okay,” you looked to see him shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the dining room table. “c’mon,” he stood from the table, holding his hand out for you to take. “we’re going to get s’more food.”
“will we be going alone?” you let your eyes gravitate to where steve stood in the corner of the room, having not been dismissed by bucky yet. 
“steve,” bucky called him over. “you can go home now. i’ve got her. thank you.” he released him from his duties. “now will you come with me?”
you took a second to think. maybe he was a controlling asshole, but what he was doing was for your safety, whether you agreed with it or not. “okay,” you nodded, figuring it was also best you went along with whatever he said. he seemed to get whatever he wanted anyways. “can we just go through a drive through somewhere?”
“if that’s what you want…” he nodded, surprisingly agreeing to your proposal. “where to?”
“... mcdonalds?” you suggested once more.
“of course, my love,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, oddly affectionate since nobody was around. “when we get back i’ll arrange hiring a chef for you, as well. i won’t have you going hungry if i can help it.”
“you don’t have to-”
“i will.” 
you knew better than to argue. you wouldn’t poke the bear if you could help it. sure, he’s told you he wouldn’t hurt you. you were his wife and if news came out that he had hurt his wife in any way, his reputation would be threatened. 
you couldn’t help but remember every warning your friends told you about going into a relationship with this man. warnings about being on your toes, watching your back, never letting your guard down. 
in your mind, this was just one more reason you wouldn’t have to leave the house. another little piece of freedom taken from you in a roundabout sense. 
“okay,” you nodded, accepting your fate as someone who would eventually be trapped in their house forever.
he took you through the drive through at mcdonald’s, getting you whatever you wanted and an oreo mcflurry. on the way home, eating the mcflurry before it melted, it was a silent ride. and not a very comfortable one, probably due to your suspicions about him wanting to control you. 
maybe him controlling you wouldn’t be so bad… he was kind to you, provided for you, made sure you didn’t want for anything. but with that, went a lot of your heart, freedom, and control.  
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@nefri-black
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novemberheart ¡ 7 months ago
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{overview} Simon makes an upsetting discovery
{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, cursing, angry Simon, fighting
Chapter 13 <- Chapter 14 -> Chapter 15
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You didn't see John the next day either. But the thumping and groans had stopped. You could only imagine how exhausted he must have been. Simon took you to his office with him. He could tell how antsy you were for a change of scenery. He didn't pay much attention to you but you entertained yourself by playing on your phone and making a card tower with a deck you had found. You had eaten a big lunch and Simon had dropped you back off at home. You were drifting in and out of sleep when the couch dipped right next to your head. No words were spoken and you were too comfortable to move your head.
A large hand rested against your back rubbing smooth circles. The smell of fog and campfire rolling over you.
“I missed you,” you mumbled. He shifted on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table, and resting his head on the same pillow as yours. His arm went under you, tugging you so you were curled up against his side. He breathed you in, the stiffness in his body already loosening.
“I missed you too.” he sighed contently.
“I dunno. Sounded like you were having fun in there.” you teased. He chuckled, his head resting against yours.
“Sorry, you had to listen to that.”
“I didn't mind.” you said a little too quickly. “I- you know what I mean.” you corrected with a huff. John chuckled again.
“I know what you mean, pretty,” he assured. “How have you been healin’ up?” he questioned, his fingers skimming the area right above your knee. You had almost completely healed since your altercation. Perks of being an omega. There was still a bit of scabbing and redness on your left leg, but everything else had healed in the first three days.
“Good.” you hummed, lifting your leg to show him. “Which is good because now I can focus on getting you better.” you hummed, finally rolling over to face him. Your fingers itched to tangle themselves in his beard but you stopped. Instead, you rested a hand against his firm chest. He grabbed your leg, throwing it over his hips, making you flush. “You can't tell me you're not sore.” you finished, peering up at him with playful eyes.
“You got me there.” he smiled softly. His lips pressed against your forehead before he rested his cheek against the top of your head. The thought of your injuries made the memory of what Anais had said to you a few days ago:
“Well you won't be seeing much of Connoway. He was attacked, his whole face was scratched up and two broken legs.” Anais explained. Your blood ran cold.
“Scratched face?” you questioned.
“And broken legs.” Anais reminded. “Their beta is missing too. No clue where he is.” you swallowed thickly.
You didn't know if you should say anything. You weren't sure what good would come from withholding you knew, but you also weren't sure what harm it would cause either. Yet you were curious. Curious about what your alpha would say to explain his behavior. Curious as to what happened to that beta. Not that it was unjustified. Who knows what those assholes would've done to you if they had succeeded.
“You alright?” John drawled from next to you. You jumped- forgetting he was there. You hummed in assurance, settling on burying your face in his neck. You would be safe with them. That's all you need to know for now.
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It was your fault. You had left the paperwork right on the kitchen counter for everyone to see. Simon had come to collect you for breakfast- a bit early admittedly. He could hear music playing from your room, so you must be getting ready for the day.
On the counter, you had left the paperwork the Omega Standards Bureau had wanted you to fill out. Would it really be Simon's fault if he peaked at it? He was on high alert, waiting for the moment your bedroom door would fling open. It took him a second to decode your writing. You didn't refer to them by their names but by their initials. Your try at anonymity he assumed. It was a nice gesture. You weren't waving their lives around. It wasn't till the second line did he get a sour taste in his mouth.
Who are your alpha/s?
The question was straightforward, just trying to get clarification on the pack dynamics. It was your answer.
J.P.
J.P. For John Price. No hint of S.R. anywhere. In fact he was hardly mentioned at all- only when they asked you to list every member of your pack.
He growled lowly, digging in his pocket for a cigarette to calm down. That was bullshit. He had spent the most time with you than anybody. Yes, most of the time he spent pushing your buttons but he had sincerely asked about you. How you ended up in an omega house. He asked about your family. He took you on walks- even in the rain because he knows how much you enjoy it. He could understand if your feelings weren't as strong for him as the others- he's guarded. But to not even be mentioned was a knife to the back.
He was just as much of your alpha as John was.
His growl must've alerted you. You slowly crept open the door, relaxing when you realized it was him.
“Smoking inside? It’s not the 1950s old man.” your smirk slowly fell when something seemed off. “You alright?” you asked a bit nervously. He tapped the counter where you had accidentally left your papers. You gasped quietly. “Those aren't for you, Simon.” you sputtered, quickly working to collect them. You raced back into your bedroom, reappearing just as quickly.
“Breakfast,” he grunted, putting his cigarette out. It didn't do anything to soothe his rattled nerves. It had been a long time since he had been so caught off guard. He thought you two were doing well. He thought he was doing well. Especially considering he was in a coma when they made the decision to add you to the pack.
You wracked your brain for a reason he would be upset. It had been a while since you had updated your paperwork- you think the night before your attack. A familiar uneasiness spread over you. You felt shaky and sick. The thought of someone close to you being unhappy at you twisting your stomach.
“Simon?” you began softly.
“Leave it,” he growled. “Breakfast,” he repeated. You couldn't eat even if you wanted to.
“I haven't updated it for a while. If there was something in there that”-
“Enough.” His tone was borderline vicious. “Your alpha is waiting for you in the cafeteria.” He spat the words like they burned him. They had.
You didn't want to go with him. Your instincts charging through you telling you this was not safe. He was not safe. You shook your head, taking a few cautious steps back towards your door.
He said your name as a warning.
“No.” you had no idea where the force had come from. “Whatever you saw I can explain. Why are you upset?” you demanded.
“Just put your bloody shoes on”-
“No,” you repeated. He snarled, turning on his heels and slamming the front door shut behind him. “Fuck.” you whimpered to yourself. You were shaking at this point, globs of tears spilling over your eyes. You went back into your room looking over your paperwork.
Who is your alpha/s?
J.P.
It clicked.
“Oh no,” you mumbled, flopping down on your bed. Truth be told you didn't really have an explanation for that- and you felt horrible. Simon had been an alpha to you. He protected you. He had taken care of you. He had taken an interest in you. You had opened up to your family about him. And you couldn't even bother to write his initials down.
The only explanation you had was the limited amount of time you had spent on the paperwork. You had given one-sentence answers for every question and hadn't taken it seriously. It never occurred to you that someone from your pack would read it.
“You alright, Bon?” you jumped as Johnny’s knuckles grazed against your doorframe. You wiped your tears quickly, but it was useless.
“No,” you mumbled pitifully. He came to immediately, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his lap. “I upset Simon,” you uttered.
“Peaches, I do that every day, twice a day”-
“No,” you interjected. “In the paperwork Kate gave me to fill out it asked who my alphas were and I just put John- and Simon saw that,” you explained. You sniffled, pressing yourself deeper into the Scot's chest. He was quiet for a moment. A long moment.
“Well I'm going to be honest, hen. I would be steamin’ too.” The honesty hurt. You pulled yourself away, but he quickly pulled you back. “He won't be steamin’ for long, though. He just needs a moment to himself and then he’ll be ready to talk.” Johnny explained. You had no choice but to trust the beta. He had seen Simon upset before, he knew how his mind worked.
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“Wondering when you'd get back,” Johnny spoke, pushing Simon's bedroom door closed. He grunted in response, tugging his balaclava off and throwing it in his hamper. The scot made himself at home in his bed, taking up most of it. “Wanna talk about it?” he hummed.
“Nothin’ to talk about,” Simon replied coldly. Johnny sighed, sitting up.
“We both know that's no”-
“It doesn't matter, Johnny,” Simon cut off. “Now I'm relieved from having to put any more effort into that”-
“Simon,” Johnny warned.
“It's true,” Simon continued. “She just wants one alpha- one alpha she’ll get.”
“Simon you know that not how she fee”-
“It is.” Simon spat. “And that's fine with me. I mean what good is she doing anyways? We’ve had to change our schedule, our lives, our home to fit her, and for what? So we can heal a bit faster. She's not worth the trouble we’re puttin’ in.”
“You’re out of your mind.” Johnny snarled back, growing more and more defensive over you. Johnny moved from the bed heading towards the door, bumping into it when he realized he hadn't closed it all the way. He quickly heard your door shut.
His heart fell into his stomach.
You had heard that, didn't you?
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Ohhhhh Simon! What are we going to do with you? Guess you’ll find out in three days for Chapter 15!!!!
Thank you for interacting with this post! 🧡
Dividers are by @cafekitsune
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billiereid ¡ 2 months ago
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Spell It Out: Sherlock x Reader
Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years and older. Minors, do not interact.
Contains: Established relationship. GN!Reader.
Summary: You and Sherlock had been dating for a while, and you both thought that your affections for each other were fairly obvious. However, when John found you slipping out of Sherlock's bedroom one morning, you realized there were several people he neglected to inform.
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Sherlock is your boyfriend. This is a fact that you know. And you’re pretty sure that he knows it, too. 
What you never realized before was that you two were the only people in Sherlock’s life who knew. You always thought it was fairly obvious to those around you. You were at Sherlock’s flat constantly. He always had you near him, even if he was never one for public displays of affection. And besides, John was Sherlock’s flatmate and best friend. Surely Sherlock had at least explained it to him, right?
Now, though, you found yourself trapped between Sherlock’s bedroom door and the washroom in your pajamas with John, of all people, staring at you as if he’d never seen you in his life. 
You stood there, frozen, wearing only the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you own and a pair of shorts that were much too short for anyone but Sherlock to see you in. It felt like several minutes passed, though it was only a few seconds. 
“Y/N?” John asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What–what are you doing here?” he asks, not exactly sure how else to respond to the situation. 
“I stayed over,” you answered, as if it should have been obvious. But the wayJohn was looking at you felt like he was trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle. “I’m sorry, what are you confused about?” you asked, gently tugging your shirt down to try and cover a little more of yourself.
John didn’t answer. He only shook his head, as if to try and clear the thoughts from his brain. “Nothing,” he said, realizing that everything about the situation is pretty much obvious. You had stayed the night, of course, but the part that he couldn’t get over was the fact that you obviously slept with Sherlock.
You blinked again to try and refocus yourself, and you slipped into the washroom, locking yourself inside and leaning against the closed door for some kind of support. Why was John looking at you as if you’d sprouted an extra head? Was he angry that you’d stayed over? Did Sherlock not tell him you were staying over? You didn’t think it mattered that much, but you supposed it was a likely explanation. 
After taking care of your business in the bathroom, you quickly slipped back into Sherlock’s bedroom to try and work out what had just happened in the kitchen. 
“Does John not know about me and you?” you asked after shutting yourself in the bedroom with Sherlock. 
Sherlock, in the midst of dressing himself, answers, “If he doesn’t, it’s his own fault.”
You blinked a couple of times and sighed. “Did you ever tell him?” 
Sherlock turned to face you, tucking his shirt into his trousers. His brows were furrowed, his head tilted slightly in apparent confusion. “Why would I?” he asked, as if that should have been the logical response for both of you.
You rubbed your temples for a moment. “Because he’s your flatmate,” you explained, your arms now crossed over your chest. “Because he’s your friend, and he deserves to know.”
“And he would know, if he actually paid attention to his surroundings,” Sherlock said, almost with a bitterness toward John, even though you knew it wasn’t real. He moved now to put on his suit jacket, looking sharp as always.
You sat on the bed and rubbed your eyes for a moment, trying to wrap your head around Sherlock’s unwillingness to actually come clean about your relationship. “So… you didn’t tell him out of… what, spite?” you asked, not exactly angry or frustrated, but just trying to understand Sherlock’s reasoning for not wanting to say anything to John. 
“No,” Sherlock answered, as if it should have been obvious all along. “I simply didn’t think I would need to spell it out for him.”
With that, Sherlock opened the bedroom door to go to his usual spot in the lounge. John was sitting in his armchair, as per usual, reading something. “So…” John said, his tone slightly teasing, though not in a way that Sherlock would usually pick up on. “You and Y/N?” 
Sherlock, from his own armchair, answers, “You really need to start paying attention.”
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kkayyerr ¡ 4 months ago
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Hi (me again) a few other fic ideas I had was,
-Daddy!JJ (again) with Little!reader where reader is feeling really small (like 2-3) and JJ seeks help from maybe Kie or John B because reader had never regressed that small
-Daddy! John B (and Mama!Sarah if your okay with it) taking care of Little!reader at the beach collecting sea shells before they run into Topper and Ruthie and they think it's weird that reader is acting like a kid (the obviously don't know about her regression)
-Daddy!Rafe with Little!Reader and he brings her with him when he's with Barry
Just some ideas you don't have to do them all or any of them, just thought i'd throw them out there
I choose the last idea, and i hope you’ll enjoy it!🫶🏻
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Warnings: Drugs addiction.
Rafe hated even the idea of letting you anywhere near Barry and their business. He had a couple of reasons. 
First, he didn’t want to put you in danger.
Second, he didn’t want you to know that your „Daddy” has a drug addiction.
He knew that you were too small and naive to think of that as something bad, but he still didn’t want you to see him just as everybody else does, disgusting and dirty. Therefore, he was trying his best to keep you away from his dirty deals, but one day you finally saw Barry. When he came into the Tannyhill, as two of you were sitting on the balcony, you were just getting comfortable sitting on Rafe’s lap. 
 „Oh, man. I didn’t know that you have a chic.”
 Barry said, his voice loud as always. He set down in front of you two, clearly not bothered by your presence at all. You looked up at Rafe, seeing some signs of concern on his face. You looked back at Barry, frowning a little bit. 
 „Man, it’s not the best time for you to show up.” 
 Rafe said, but Barry only sneered at his words, looking at you with an interest in his eyes that made you slightly uncomfortable. You weren’t so good at communication when you were in the little space, especially when it comes to strangers. Rafe pulled you closer, taking your hands in his, as he saw you becoming more anxious because of the unexpected guest.
 „Relax, dude. What is she on? Some pills?”
 You felt how one of Rafe’s hands turned into a fist, as he was trying to regulate his emotions, so he wouldn’t scare you with his anger outburst. If you wouldn’t be there, he would already start some issues, and you knew it, so you just hugged him tighter. 
 „Or maybe like you, sniffing a little bit of white powder?" 
 Rafe gently pulled you off his lap, sitting you down on the couch, and smiling softly to you, even though you saw his jaw clenching just a second ago. He then crouched in front of you, taking your hands in his for a second. 
 „Baby, I need you to cover your ears for me, alright?”
 You immediately did what he said, not even asking why, because you knew that it was better not to give him even more reasons to be angry right now. 
A couple of minutes later Rafe came back, after helping Barry find his way out of this house and gently telling him that he wasn’t welcomed here, at least not when you were there. 
 „Are you okay, kid?”
 He asked and smiled as you gave him a quick nod, uncovering your ears. He was more relaxed now, and so were you. You were so happy that now there were no strangers in the house.
 „Daddy, who was that?”
 He waited before giving you an answer, probably trying to pick the right words in his head, so you would understand him, but also won’t be too anxious thinking about that situation later.
 „It was Daddy’s friend. A stupid one.”
 You were a bit confused about why he would be friends with someone who thinks that the powder is meant to be sniffed and that you had to take some pills even though you were completely healthy. You sighed, remembering that Rafe had always told you to stay out of the adult’s things. 
 „Why were you swearing at him?”
 Your question made him raise his brows, as he was more than sure that you haven’t heard anything that was happening downstairs. He then chuckled, thinking of what else have you heard and what exactly will you repeat after him later.
 „I think we should buy you headphones, baby.“
 He laughed softly as you happily jumped up from the couch and stormed out from the balcony to probably find Wheezie and tell her about the new gadget that you’ll probably have soon. Rafe sighed deeply, closing his eyes. 
 „And we should find a new dealer for Daddy.”
Taglist: @marvelfanfics1 @rafecameronsloverrrrr
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snakes-and-fluff ¡ 1 month ago
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The more I think about it, the more I realise the game Milgram was rigged from the start. Obviously Milgram is inherently cruel; obviously it was never going to end well. But I think with the specific cast of 10 they put in there, every one of them had some aspect or other that caused them to take to Milgram worse.
Yuno and Kazui: two self-proclaimed liars. If Guilty, would lean more into their lies and lose themselves but if Innocent have to face the fact that they are lying, and lose the one thing that they had in place to protect themselves - we've just seen this happen with both of them, and now they're both in extreme pain because of it.
People who thrive off external validation: Haruka and Muu. There was no way they'd ever come out the other end of the judgement hell prison looking remotely the same as when they went in. And they'd always find each other and tie their fates together in some fashion or other.
The man who needed a place to belong: Fuuta. As I've said before, I think he was always going to find somebody to follow in the footsteps of - he always needed a role model and in the murder-hell-prison he doesn't exactly have a perfect crop to choose from.
Amane was raised in an awful environment but she never got to experience normalcy; she just got dragged from one hell to another - of course she'd never react well. When Guilty she retreated into her previous teachings since at least there was a semblance of safety for her there, but there's no telling how a T1 Inno would've gone - if anything she might've discarded her old beliefs only to view Milgram itself with the same fervour.
Already unwell when he got here, Mikoto was only ever going to get worse. In the instance he got a T1 Inno, he never would've confronted himself about his murder and probably been liable to repeat it (possibly even within Milgram), and with the T2 ultimatum (Guilty means Mikoto goes, Inno means John goes) there was no good end, as leaving either one by themself would only cause them more pain.
Shidou wanted the death penalty, so a T1 Guilty clearly wouldn't have ended well. An Inno meant he fell back into old roles - at least in this timeline he was able to use his doctor skills to good use, but what if he wasn't? If pushed, wouldn't he just do it again: choose someone to save at the expense of someone else?
Mahiru... I'll admit, Mahiru's still an odd one to me. But we saw her break when she got her Guilty, and an Innocent wouldn't have helped her to see what she did wrong either. Perhaps she'd even have repeated her mistakes in Milgram itself.
And of course, instigator number 1, Kotoko. We've seen how she reacted when Innocent, becoming the enforcer for this horrible system, and of course she'd take offense if Guilty - even if it'd happened back in T1, she either would've been just as angry by being the one labelled "wrong" since she believes it's her job to punish ones like that or she would've broken completely, wondering if she has any purpose at all.
What was that line from Undercover again? You will, for sure, with a smile for sure Be pleased and satisfied
There was never any winning. Not for us, and certainly not for them.
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cer-rata ¡ 1 year ago
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An incomplete but very angry diatribe about the missed potential of the Star Sapphires
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So back in the day Geoff Johns and co decided to open up the Green Lantern mythos and add some more flavor and expand the concept of sci-fi tech powered by elemental emotion to more than just willpower. Which yes, is not an emotion, we ignore it and move on.
Anyway we got some really cool stuff! A rage tyrant fueled by experiencing incredible injustice on a personal and cosmic scale, whose vendetta twisted him into something terrible. An avatar of greed who was never allowed to have anything, not freedom, not family, not safety, who takes and takes and takes to fill a void that can never be satisfied. A priest who lost everything but presses on through his unshakable hope that the future can and will be better. It's a lot of fun stuff!
So in this great creative re-imagining, they had to do something clever and fun with the idea of an all female corps powered by love right? They took the opportunity to move past the purely romantic, sexual idea of love and the obsessed femme fatale archetype, because they had the chance to really explore different types of affection now that there were a bunch of different avatars with different stories to pull from right?
Right?
Nope! The only Sapphires we ever learn about are heartbroken over a cursed romance like Carol, grieving a dead fiance like Miri Riam, forcibly mind controlled to be one like Fatality, or just Miss Bloss who...kind of said she wanted to join up? No clue what her deal is, as far as I'm aware that's never really explained. And then we just never learn about anyone else, and still haven't. The hell is "The Lost Sapphire"? No idea, we'll likely never know.
It's frustrating because not only is this a glaring example of the depth of plotlines offered to women in comics compared to their male counterparts, but also a wild lack of imagination. Love is one of the most complicated emotions we experience. Fear, anger, hope, all pretty easy to quickly define. Love is multifaceted, cultural, incredibly contextual and a factor in so many different kinds of relationship. Just thinking logically it should be much easier to flesh out the motivations of a group pulling from such a nuanced source of power, versus something as clear-cut as rage. But no, the red lanterns got so many varied reasons for their rage, the male ones especially: Bleez being the woman was of course given the SA narrative, which I don't think is inappropriate on its own, that's an incredibly valid reason to be angry, but as the ONLY truly prominent female Red Lantern it's like...c'mon guys. But still, at least she and Atrocitus had different reasons for becoming what they are, and that variation was played for plot and drama.
But there's not a single Star Sapphire that personally champions something other than romantic love. And before you shoot me, it is explicitly mentioned that they DO protect other forms of love, so there's no reason for them to all be sexy and obsessed with kissing people. There are no Sapphires that are driven by:
The love of their children and families, even in a tragic sense, like Atrocitus and Saint Walker and Larfleez are...
Their love of their people, or their culture. It would have been interesting if Fatality was inducted BECAUSE of her pain at losing her world, but no, they just...replaced her anger with lovey vibes and called it a day.
Their love for nature. Not everyone is social, but social love isn't the only way to strongly experience the emotion.
Their love for themselves. Where is the fun narcissistic ass who loves their own self image to the point of getting powers? It would have been a fun twist and a cool way to get another villainous Sapphire if you wanted to.
Their platonic love of ANYTHING really. Are ace/aro people just...not capable of love then? It doesn't mean anything to be willing to drive cross country to help a friend move just because they needed it and you care? No? You need to be fucking for it to count?
It's like...fascinating if you really think about it. In this vast fantasy universe full of alien races with wildly different perceptions and life cycles, and where the other corps have plenty of non-human, truly alien looking members, that the women's only love corps is full of only hot hot scantily clad baddies. Most love that people experience in their lives isn't even romantic! You will have far more experiences with friends and family members and even loving strangers than you will have with romantic partners.
Like the reason is clearly sexism, duh, but we know sexism is bad, that's obvious, what I really want to make clear is how much this blatant, unexplored sexism just completely desecrated the potential of the worldbuilding here.
From another angle even: Let's say this this WAS the sex and romance all the time corps. Let's say that you wanted to keep it all women. I hate the idea that women are capable of love in a way that men aren't, that's such a bad take and just regressive and unhelpful, but let's just play ball for a moment. They're not even hot? Their designs are such ridiculously narrow versions of feminine attractiveness that they're not even successful at really being mass appeal sexy. I haven't even reached the point of complaining about the fatphobia and criminal lack of different body types yet, I'm still just saying that from the standpoint of fantasy sexy it's not even good at being stereotypical offensive fantasy sexy. It's just boring! They're all so visually boring! You can be scantily clad and still have an interesting and coherent character design! But that is not what they gave these women! They actually redesigned the classic Star Sapphire costume and made it MORE sexist and boring:
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Yeah it was cheesy but it was also cute and fun? The design is playful classic sci-fi girl and this is when she was still a dangerous unhinged villain. Its fun to look at and feels tonally coherent next to Green Lantern.
And then they just...
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No actually, I will not explain this one, you have eyes.
And yeah they fixed her costume finally,
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But! She's still stuck as Hal Jordan's romantic punching bag, and has not gotten to have any new adventures on her own.
So.
What I'm saying is it's a flop all around. 2/10, and only because despite everything Fatality STILL managed to serve. I actually think that all of the corps have been poorly used since blackest night, even the greens actually, but they never even gave the Sapphires a chance. They last showed up in...a WW annual I think? During the whole dark gods event, they needed Diana to help them fight the evil god of love, and there was a guy in the corp finally, and they talked about sisterhood and then we haven't heard a peep from them since. I think Carol might be due to get her ring back in the GL ongoing but she's not really been treated well so far, so I'm not hopeful for anything fresh and well reasoned.
So my lovely ladies (and that one unnamed guy), until they let you get it together it may be time to
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howlett-n-morgan ¡ 6 months ago
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Take Me Home
5. Blood Stains
Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader
A/n: HEY GUYS I AM BACK WITH A DOOSIE. okay so my fashion show was fantastic, let me know if y'all wanna see a video of my collection i think it turned out pretty damn good. anyways, wrote this while crocked off my ass on Benadryl bc allergy season is hitting very very hard right now so if it's not perfect we are all going to collectively blame the Benadryl, okay? okay.
Summary: An accident in the laundry causes chaos in the camp, and secrets are revealed sooner than expected. With everyone else acting like the world is caving in, Arthur steps up as usual.
Warnings: misogyny, major gender role tropes, a little bit of personal violation, but very minor. Susan is a bitch in this chapter (we love Susan). Blood plays a lot into this chapter, and so do menstrual cycles, so if you're uncomfortable with those mentions, this may be a skippable chapter for you. There's also like some sexual implications but nothing inherently sexual happens. I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything.
WC: 7.8k
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“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet.  You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip.  “Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?” 
In the weeks since John’s disappearance, you’ve noticed three things:
One, Dutch hasn’t barely been seen in the camp, and when he makes his presence known, it’s either angry or forlorn. Two, the entire gang has been very quiet, not wanting to set off Dutch, or make anyone else upset with the matter. Three, Arthur has done as he said he would, becoming closer with Abigail, and helping nightly with Jack. 
It shouldn’t break your heart, because you had no right for it to. You shouldn’t be distancing yourself from the both of them, they didn’t do anything to deserve it, but the way your chest tightened by watching them, watching Arthur gently place a hand on her shoulder as he watched Jack squirm in her arms was far too miserable. Abigail won’t speak of it, knowing that everyone has been on edge since her former lover left, but she missed the talks and conversations you held. You understood her, and though she didn’t exactly know the truth as to why, she was still partially in grief over that bond, too. 
Arthur takes immediate notice, but doesn’t say anything. Hosea had mentioned your run in with John the evening he took off. He figured you needed time to cope with the situation, even if you didn’t know John all that well, or even like him for that matter. Everyone in camp was dealing with it differently, so why should he judge the way you handled yourself?
It was only when you stopped talking to him altogether that he became slightly concerned, and he wasn’t the only one. 
When Dutch first brought you into the gang, he knew there was some subtle competition with you and Arthur. The two fastest guns in the west, hell, maybe even the world… but you butted heads often. He didn’t know why it had suddenly stopped, but his concern grew from being in both your presences at the same time, and the icy feeling he got just from standing between you, running over job details in a tent. 
It was like Arthur didn’t exist to you anymore. Everything you said and did was conveyed to the people around him, but never to him. You would even give news to a big group of people to avoid telling Arthur directly. 
Dutch knew there was something wrong, because he could have sworn you both were inches away from getting along, but now it was worse than square one. It was after a successful job that he said something about it. After you had deliberately handed Arthur’s cut to Javier and told him to give it to the next man over. 
You’d ridden back, safe and sound, but Dutch held you back, nodding the others away from the horse troughs.  
“Talk with me for a bit, will ya son?” He tried to approach the situation gently. This couldn’t have been a gradual thing. 
“F’course,” you muttered, hands resting on your gun belt as you followed him into the center of camp. 
“I’ve been noticing some… strange behavior from you towards Arthur. Only lately…” he scratched his head, looking at you expectantly. “You can tell me if he did somethin’ to piss you off, I’ll speak with him about it.”
You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “He didn’t do nothin’ to piss me off… I’ve just always been better off on my own, don’t wanna rely on anyone.”
“I can understand that sentiment, but it doesn’t make any damn sense as to why you’re givin’ him the cold shoulder,” he furthered his point, and you didn’t have any choice but to make something else up. Something that could actually be worth what you were doing to Arthur. Your head told you that the truth of ‘I’m actually a young woman and I’m catching feelings for your gang enforcer’ wouldn’t help you. 
“He’s been tryna hold me back,” you sighed out, as if revealing some huge secret. It was partially true, but you’d grown more relaxed about the protection Arthur had been trying to provide. Still, you kept on the charade, knowing it would get you out of this situation free and clear. “M’tired of him thinkin’ I can’t keep up, tired of feelin’ like a helpless kid next to ‘im.”
Dutch let out a breath and narrowed his eyes. “I see… and so you figured it best to keep him out of arm’s reach, is that it?”
“Guess so,” you shrugged, leaning against the pole of his big tent. 
And then it seemed that Dutch saw this as a teaching moment, because he nodded for you to sit down on one of the cross latch boxes, across from where he stood. He had a whole spiel oncoming, and you were almost sure you knew what it would contain. Something about the camp being a family, everyone sticking together and more nonsense of the like.
“You don’t understand this now, because you’ve never had a time of need in this gang… but that day will come,” he paused, and you perhaps had it all wrong, listening intently now. He pointed in the direction of Arthur’s camp set up, and you glanced over, not for the first time that day. He was tired, hunched over his cot and leaning in exhaustion, running his hand over his face. “And when you are in that time of need, there is no better man to have in your corner than Arthur Morgan.”
You nodded in understanding, a small frown on your face. You wanted to protect yourself, but if what Dutch says is true, you’re only setting yourself up for failure. 
“He’s been here a long time, and no matter your opinion of him, no matter the things you do or the things you say, he’s loyal. It ain’t up to me what you decide to do, but you should know, he’s the best ally you’re ever gonna have.”
And just like that, you regretted the past weeks. Everything you did to avoid him, getting up early to grab some of the coffee before he came by. Going out and hunting without letting anyone know, just so that he didn’t have a chance to come with you. Even going as far as to mend your own clothing and do your own laundry, knowing he might catch you at one of the girl’s stations while picking up your weekly wears. You felt awful. You remembered at least four times he tried to approach you before he just gave up. At the time you were grateful, because you thought it was making things easier for you, but in actuality, the things Dutch said were true. You needed him in your corner. There would be a time of need, and Arthur was the best ally to have when that time would come, whatever it may be. 
“I think I oughta go set things right, then,” you let out, your ego deflating slightly when your eyes met Dutch again. 
“If you think it’s best,” he nodded, switching places with you and watching you walk over to his favored outlaw, the man he called his son. He called you son, too. You wondered if that would hold up if he ever found out about you. 
Arthur was on the verge of sleep, but you were doing this now. You could apologize later. 
“You look like shit,” you tried to be nonchalant, and not bring any emotion into this. 
When he looked up, he was slightly annoyed, but his face softened once he looked at you for a moment. 
“Feel like shit,” he grumbled, trying to understand what you were doing here. You didn’t exactly give him reason to believe he was important to you anymore. “Did you need something?” 
You kicked the dirt beneath your boot, trying to keep yourself composed, but you weren’t too good at these things, and the amount of shear stiffness in your body wasn’t helping you to relax about it. 
“I think I owe you an apology,” you started, and he tilted his head in slight confusion. Sure, he knew what you were apologizing for, but he didn’t know why. “I’ve been avoidin’ you, n’ I shouldn’t have.”
He nodded in thanks, accepting your words. You stood awkwardly, unsure if you should say more or just leave, but when you turned your boot to walk, he stopped you. 
“Did I piss you off or somethin’?”
Why was everyone asking that? 
“No, ain’t nothing you did. Just my own stupid ass and things that don’t matter,” you told him. You felt even worse now, because you’d made both him and Dutch think that it was something he did wrong. He could rarely do any wrong in your eyes, which made this whole ordeal that much worse. 
“Matters enough, you stopped talking to me. Couldn’t even get you to look my way.”
You didn’t want him to know anything else. With him and Abigail rapidly forming a blossoming relationship, it wasn’t for you to stand in their way. Jack needed a father figure, and Arthur was the perfect candidate. 
“I’m sorry about it. I swear it won’t happen again,” you really wanted to leave this time, unsure of how far it may go in the event of a deep conversation… but he caught your wrist and gently tugged it back towards where he sat as soon as you started turning away again. 
“You gotta give me somethin’, Red. I’ve waited weeks just to ask you,” he pleaded, his tired eyes looking through you and trying to enter your mind. You caved just as soon as you saw how badly this affected him. You hurt him. He might be big, burly, and dangerous… but he bleeds, and his heart can be wounded as easily as anyone else’s. 
“I’ve been going through some things, and you’ve had a lot on your plate with Jack and Abigail. It’s not fair of me to make my burdens your burdens… I was tryna keep you out of it,” you admitted, which was only half true. The partial truths of the night were stacking up, but fortunately he couldn’t tell the difference right now, too tired and unfocused to really study your features and what you were hiding. 
“Red,” he sighed, not yet prying for more information, but giving you one last glance. “You can tell me things. Remember that.”
You nodded, smiling at him for the first time since John left. “Alright.” 
-
You stopped avoiding and ignoring Arthur, but things were still distant. You’d been getting close right after Jack was born, but going into his third month in the world, you two were miles apart. Still, it was better than the stone cold facade you’d been turning to him before. 
“Got any laundry?” Susan asked, breaking you out of your trance as you watched the sun setting. You weren’t really paying much attention, but nodded, reaching behind you into your tent for a sheet full of worn out and dirty clothing. You should have looked it over, but you didn’t, too caught up in your own mind. “You can ask the girls about getting it back tomorrow, they’ve been going stir crazy for things to do.”
“Yes ma’am,” you nodded, tipping your hat and leaning back against your small tent’s middle pole. You had half a mind to slide your hat over your eyes for a nap, but that didn’t seem like it would fly, especially if one of the others needed you for something. 
You could definitely use a nap, you were cramping like crazy. You swore if Bill came up to you and asked for any more favors with the damn horses this week you’d kill him, but only because you were feeling grumpy. 
You wanted so badly to confide in Arthur about these things, the troubles of womanhood that you couldn’t share with anyone else but him. You wondered if he would ever tell anyone, since it’s been almost five months of your residence and you have yet to reveal your secrets to everyone else. Maybe you were being paranoid, but the closer he got to Abigail and the further you pushed him away, you thought he might care less about the agreement you both made. After all, spilling your secret to Dutch would gain him loyalty points, and Dutch seemed all too happy to be giving them out since John left. 
It was about an hour later when there was a shriek at the other side of camp, and many ran over to see what the trouble was. 
Tilly had been sitting by her wash bin, but had pulled her hands out on account of one thing. 
“What’s the matter, Tilly?” you heard Sean over your shoulder, and when you finally saw the trouble your eyes widened and you muttered a single word under your breath. 
“Shit.” 
“What’s shit?” Arthur’s voice was also heard beside you now, and you turned to him ever so slightly with a whisper.
“Me, I’m in deep shit.”
Tilly showed everyone the water, with some clothing swirling around, but it was all tinted red. 
“I think someone’s been hurt,” she said, waving over Mrs. Grimshaw to show her the problem. “There’s blood in the water.”
You tried to casually back up slowly, hoping that it wouldn’t get traced back to you, after all, the clothing in the bin was yours, and Mrs. Grimshaw had just picked up the pile from you. You were just stupid enough to leave your monthly attire in with it, and during your monthly time, too. You were only two days into the cycle, meaning there had been a lot of blood.
Grimshaw, being the stern and impatient woman she was, rolled her sleeves up and dug around in the water, looking for clothing with holes to indicate a stab or bullet wound… but she only found:
“A sanitary apron?” She furrowed her brows. She was pretty in tune with the women of the camp, and hadn’t been aware that someone was menstruating right now. 
“You better run, kid,” Arthur caught on, nudging your shoulder. You’d already started getting further away from the scene, but it seemed Grimshaw already came to a conclusion before you could make a break for it. 
“I picked these up from…” she trailed, her brow now seemingly angry and strewn together in a stressful manner. She marched over to you, grabbing your lanky wrist harshly and tugging you away from the scene. “You better not be hidin’ what I think you’re hidin’!”
You held onto your hat as she practically ran you into the nearest tent. It wasn’t hers or yours but that didn’t matter, her urgency was all too apparent. 
“Miss Grimshaw, what’s this all about?” 
“I have had my suspicions about you since you arrived here,” she spoke intensely, pulling you forward by your belt buckle and doing her best to undo it. 
“Hey, hey! What’re ya doin’?!” You tried to protest, but her nimble hands were too persistent, and she finally got your pants loose enough to take a brief peek at what she needed to see. “What the hell, would you stop?!” 
“I knew it!” she yelled, a finger pointed in the air. 
And just like that, you knew you were screwed. 
She quickly ran out of the tent, and you tried to follow her, making a quick attempt at putting your belt back together on the way out. 
Arthur ran a hand over his face when first he saw you, and the state you were in. He knew the jig was up, too. 
“Where is that man when you need him?” Susan was turning every which way, a mess of herself just trying to frantically look for the camp leader. 
“Dutch? He’s in town with Hosea, what’s the problem?” Bill sauntered up, dusting his hands from the work he’d paused. 
Pearson and Javier all of a sudden made an appearance, and when you thought nothing could make this worse, the rest of the camp zoned in on the chaos, having had nothing better to do this whole day. It was slow, and there were no jobs to be done, so the boredom consumed minds jumped on the first sign of entertainment they could find, and boy was it something.
“We have an imposter in our midst!” She yelled, her arms waving around wildly. 
“Hold on, now…” You tried to interject, but Arthur shot you a look, shaking his head. Don’t do it, kid. Just shut up.
“What do you mean an imposter?” Pearson crossed his arms. He was never one to give bad news of any kind to, because he had a tendency to blow it out of proportion. “Who?” 
“That,” she pointed at you, her voice raised to the highest decibel count you knew was humanly possible. “Is not an eighteen year old boy! She has been fooling us all. Who even knows where she comes from, what her real name is!”
“What the hell are you even talking about?” 
“The kid?” 
“Ain’t no way…”
The rapid responses coming forward almost eased your mind, except for the fact that Susan did in fact have up close and personal proof from what she saw. 
Arthur stepped forward, and as the murmurs grew louder, and Miss Grimshaw was prepared to go on another rant, he did all he could to calm the situation. 
“Let’s not make any rash judgements right now,” he gave you a look, trying to let you see he was attempting to help, but that you needed to leave. “We’ll just wait until Dutch and Hosea get back.”
You took that as a cue to leave, awkwardly making way for your tent. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Susan tried to chase after you, but Arthur held her back. 
“Wait for Dutch,” he said, his arm blocking her path. Who knows what she’d do in this state? She’d been known to whip some of the boys into compliance before, who knows what she’d do to someone she viewed as an imposter. 
Sitting with the flaps closed, you could still hear everything that was occurring outside, and it nerved you far more than being in the middle of it all. 
“It doesn’t make any sense…” and “Do you think it’s true?” could be heard from separate conversations, and you wished more than anything that you’d just done your own damn laundry. 
Your face fell in your hands, and you started going over all the things that could happen. Dutch could hate you for lying to him, and kick you out, banishing you as far as you could go. Or, since you were a newbie, and didn’t have the trust factor built yet, maybe they would just shoot you dead. That may have been an extreme idea, but with your rapidly beating heart and increasing worry, things like that were bound to spill in. Not like you’d been in a gang before, you didn’t exactly get an etiquette and rule book when you arrived. Who knew what would happen to you. Nothing good, that you knew.
When Arthur finally opened the flap and leaned down inside the small dwelling, you knew it was time to face the music. 
“Dutch is back, Susan’s tellin’ him everything,” he sighed, looking over your face and feeling a sense of guilt that he didn’t do anything to stop all of this. When you first arrived he thought maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but having experienced this much drama in just the past hour has most definitely led him to believe he was wrong. 
When you stayed silent, and didn’t really give him a reaction of any kind, he could tell you were hit hard with the anxiety and shock of it all. He couldn’t ever get you to shut up, and he often didn’t want to, most of all now when you looked like a scared animal. 
“I ain’t gonna let ‘em hurt ya, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
You shook your head, and against your hardest efforts, tears were backing your eyes, looking for ways to escape. He hadn’t ever seen you like this, and it wasn’t pleasant. 
“I don’t wanna leave,” you admitted. You liked it here. You weren’t lonely here, and you had a family… or at least you did an hour ago. You didn’t know where you stood with half of these people. 
He couldn’t speak for Dutch or Hosea, or anyone else really, but he could speak for himself. 
“I don’t want you to, either…”
When Arthur heard his name called, he leaned back, looking in the direction of his father figure, looking angrier than a pack of hungry wolves. 
“Yeah?” 
“Tell Brooks to see me, now.”
You didn’t even need the message relayed. You stood up, and followed Arthur out of the tent, your head down as you made the distance to the center tent, the big one you’d been at only a bit ago with council from your leader. You only hoped he’d be so forgiving when he found out you lied to him. 
Arthur got into the tent first, mumbling a few things you were a little distracted to hear. You did catch the small ‘don’t be too hard on her’ fall from his mouth, though. 
You sat down on the box chest, close to the exit of the tent, just in case things went south and you had to run. Not that you were thinking about running, but again, a million scenarios crossed your mind. 
“Arthur, wait outside.”
You grew more tense as soon as those words were uttered, and so did Arthur it would seem. 
“Dutch, I think I should-”
“Wait. Outside.” 
He reluctantly did as he was told, walking far enough away that he wouldn’t be reprimanded, but still in your eye-line so he could keep an eye on you. He trusted Dutch with the gang members, but if he was considering kicking you out, that made you fair game. 
“I’m gonna cut to the chase,” he took a long drag of the cigar he held between his fingers, blowing the smoke out when he turned his head to the side. “You know why you’re here.”
“I reckon I do,” you answered quietly, trying to keep an ounce of confidence though your entire body felt like it would start shaking in fear. 
“I could have you stripped for the whole camp to see, but for propriety’s sake I’m only going to ask you this once… is it true?” He asked, his tone less stern but still eager. 
“Yes.”
He sighed, having heard the softness in your voice since you came in, he already knew. You’d never shown this side of yourself to the camp before. You were always confident, sure of yourself, cocky even. To think it was an act boiled his skin… but he wanted to take his time with this. You still had capabilities the likes he’s never seen, and if he wasn’t careful they could one day be used against him. You didn’t know about the O’Driscolls yet, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have you running off and joining them. It would be the death of the Van Der Linde gang, of that he was certain. 
“I’m gonna decide what to do with you, but until then, you stay out of my sight.”
He pointed outside of the tent, and you were honestly surprised that this was the extent of his questioning. Nothing about the lies? About the history? About anything at all?
You gave him a double glance, but scurried away in fears he might change his mind and tear you to shreds on the spot. You walked hastily towards Arthur, your face gaining more color to it once you were out of the line of danger. 
“You alright?” He asked, his furrowed brows reflecting his concern. 
“No,” you let out with a dramatic scoff. Your flare for over exaggeration was sometimes quite amusing to him. He just dropped his head and chuckled. 
“You’re fine,” he patted your shoulder before stepping past you and going to talk to Dutch. What he knows is that Susan Grimshaw spilled every nasty detail of this afternoon to the camp leader, but he also knows that he hasn’t had his say yet, and when it comes down to it, Dutch will side with his loyal enforcer over a disgruntled Miss Grimshaw. 
Dutch was stretching out his arms, sore from the ride in and out of town. It was a scouting trip, really, but it was enough to make him ache when all the stress was added. 
“First John leaving, now this. I can’t seem to catch a break, can I?” Dutch sighed out after his words, the toll they took on his mind caused him to shake his head of so many thoughts. 
“This ain’t so bad,” Arthur began, tilting his head from side to side. 
“How could you possibly think that?”
Arthur shrugged, reasoning with himself a few options before saying them out loud. 
“S’not like she did any harm. Only thing that’s come of it is a bit of surprise to everyone…” he trailed, sitting across from the man he called his father figure and his friend. The tension seemed to ease up the second he neared the man, but there was more to be done to diffuse the situation, and he was all too happy to insert himself as the cause of said diffusion. 
“She lied about who she is, for all we know she could be working with local law, or worse, the pinkertons.” 
Dutch’s raised concerns nearly made Arthur chuckle. When you first got here, facade or not, you were still just lost and looking for somewhere to call home. There were never any motives behind your gang participation other than needing a family.
“We haven’t had them on our trail in ages. Coming here, we finally put a stop to their sniffin’ around. Besides, she’s been the reason for our successful jobs lately… she’s been loyal enough to save my life despite our differences.”
“But she lied to us,” Dutch kept driving his point. A liar’s a liar, and they lie about other things. 
“She’s a scared kid, Dutch. She just wants a place to be,” Arthur defended, his arguments becoming more close and personal, which led Dutch to connect some other dots. 
He sighed, looking at Arthur and coming to an understanding of what he knew were past events. 
“You knew, didn’t you?” 
Arthur dropped his head into a subtle nod, not yet meeting Dutch’s eyes for his fear of a bad reaction. 
“Since the week she got here.”
Dutch had to laugh, because of course he did. Arthur was more in tune with the members of camp than he could ever be, and more than they could be with each other. He was like Hosea that way, his ability to connect and grow relationships with others was just a natural gift. He often thought it stemmed from Arthur’s great love of the unknown, and his endless curiosity. 
“How’d you figure it out?” 
“I didn’t, until I found some uh… rather feminine items in her saddle bag. She fessed up pretty quickly to me,” Arthur scratched the back of his neck, his nerves settling when he knew he wouldn’t be in any trouble. 
“Well,” Dutch started, coming to the edge of his open tent, looking for the troubled recruit among the busy movement of the camp. “We’ve taken in much worse, and it’s always been in our favor. And you’re right… She's just a scared kid. A scared kid with the quickest hands I’ve ever seen.”
There was a moment, and then Arthur smiled.
“So… She’s free n’ clear?” He asked, his tone hopeful, which Dutch noticed. Perhaps Red had made amends after all, and just as Dutch promised, Arthur was in her corner. This wasn’t her time of need, per se, but he knew she would have him when it arrived.
“I suppose so, although… I’m not going to be responsible for the court of public opinion,” he gestured to everyone in the camp, frantically working around just to keep themselves busy. With all the chaos going on, it’s the only thing they can do not to sit and gossip, which they do anyway. 
“I reckon I better keep her away from Susan?” 
“With a ten foot pole, preferably,” Dutch rolled his eyes. That woman was full of determination, and it could be both a great strength, as well as her worst weakness. 
Arthur smiled, ready to go make good on a promise he’d been waiting on for some time. “I’ll catch you later then.”
“Alright, Arthur.”
-
You didn’t know if Arthur’s conversation with Dutch would benefit you or condemn you, but you didn’t stick around to find out. He’d found you saddling your horse, just in case a hasty escape needed to be made. Yes, perhaps your delusions were getting a bit out of hand. 
“Where you goin’?”
“Depends,” you started, “How mad is he?”
Arthur huffed and grabbed your wrist, stilling your movements. “He ain’t mad.”
“No?” You could hardly believe it. “He seemed riled up to me.”
“I talked to him,” he explained, but gave no further intel. 
“You got magic words or somethin’?” You chuckled, slightly more relaxed since the news came better than you hoped, and Arthur wasn’t dragging you back to be punished or anything. “What’d you tell him?” 
“That you were gonna be loyal… and that you’d been scared.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, trying to play off his last words like they weren’t true. “I ain’t scared.”
“Really? You were about to run, weren’t you?” He pointed to your full saddle bag and stocked up horse, ready to disappear at a moment’s notice. 
You caved. 
“He gave me a little fright is all,” you toed your boot into the dirt as you spoke, looking back up to find him nodding at your horse. 
“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet. 
You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip. 
“Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?” 
It was just a joke, but he was getting tired of the overly dramatic interactions. He wasn’t sure what all transpired in your past, albeit knowing more than everyone else… even still, he figured there had to be something that gave you your theatrical touch. 
“Knock it off, would ya?”
“Sorry.”
The ride wasn’t long, but the sun was down when you both tied your horses to the poll in front of the general store. You’d been in here a few times, and the man behind the counter always cowered in fear of Texas Red the unkillable. No matter your manners or gentility, that’s just how it was. 
“What’re we doin’ here?” You adjusted your hat, wiping some sweat off your forehead and following him up the front steps. 
“I remember sayin’ I’d get you a dress a while back, we’re here to make good on it.”
You stopped in your tracks, a wide smile blossoming on your face when you heard him say it. He’d remembered, and been waiting for it since the night he uttered the words. 
He noticed you weren’t close behind him, and turned, catching the sweet expression you wore, but brushing it off with a sideways smile. 
“C’mon now, gotta pick it out.” 
You followed after him, and once inside, the man behind the counter seemed to be nervous, as usual. He didn’t seem to be weary of having you both in, just a bit anxious. Arthur knew his presence held power, but he figured with your reputation in this town, and others around… your presence was bound to hold more. 
“What can I do for you? Need more socks?” The man asked you kindly, and you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you. 
“No, we’re uh… we’re here to get a dress for my wife,” Arthur spoke evenly, his confidence showing through when he had to put on a show. 
Your head snapped to him, and though you knew he was intending to buy the dress for you, a thought sprang into your mind. Abigail. She was going to be his wife. 
This sweet little moment, with Arthur keeping his promise, and making a big to-do over your acceptance into camp, was all part of your own little fantasy. It wouldn’t last, and when you returned to camp, he’d be with her again, helping with Jack. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, wanting to enjoy this sliver of time with him. 
“Of course! I’ve got a new selection,” he pulled out the catalog, and opened the pages to a section with different types of skirts, petticoats, chemises, and corsets. All were beautiful, but your eye was drawn to a more simple style. It was a work dress, which would be far more practical for you than any of the other ones. 
“I’m not too good with all this. What do you think, Red? Which one would she like best?” He tossed you a smirk, leaning his elbow on the counter while he let you browse over the pages a bit longer, turning them over with a furrowed brow of focus. 
“What color does this one come in?” You asked the man over the counter, keeping your act up, but letting your hints of excitement show through. 
“That one is a nice pale blue, perfect for spring and summer time,” he spoke firmly, becoming more relaxed the longer you both were in the store. Yes, he’d heard the whispers, and for you, he’d actually seen your acts of a quick trigger. But here, you didn’t seem like a threat, so he stopped acting like you were.
“Blue, huh… Might bring out her eyes a bit, hey Arthur?” Now it was your turn to smirk, and he chuckled, nodding back to you and tapping the page twice with a heavy finger. 
“You’re right it would, make em’ look like crystal,” he played along, making you blush under the brim of your hat, unbeknownst to the man behind the counter. 
“It’s gotta be that one, then.”
Arthur chuckled, counting out the cash that the dress price was listed under, tossing it down on the counter and nodding to the man. 
“You heard the kid, we’ll take that one,” he spoke in a playful tone, ignoring the movements of the man as he scurried to the back rooms, getting your dress pieces together. 
Arthur lifted the brim of your hat, and smiled genuinely at the look on your face. It was excited, sweet, and grateful. He wanted to buy you the entire stock of the store just to ensure that look stayed on your face, no matter the irrationality of it. He’d become quite accustomed to giving you his time and his efforts, and this was no different. The only difference is that now he wanted to, wholeheartedly. The deal you’d struck with him, the one where you were going to teach him your methods of shooting faster, were now null and void. He didn’t want to take anything from you, he just wanted to give.
When the store worker returned with a large box in hand, Arthur thanked him for his time, carrying the thing over his shoulder and heading for the door, which you opened for him. 
Getting outside, you went for the horses, but he stopped you with a swat of your hand away from the reins. 
“Can’t go back yet, gotta see how this looks on ya,” he insisted, nodding for you to follow him yet again. He walked for a bit before coming up on the shed with a small lantern inside. It looked like it only housed tools and ropes and things of the like, but there was space enough to change in. “Came across this when I was out one day. Took a whole nap before someone realized I was in here.” 
“How convenient,” you teased, taking the box from his hands and eagerly walking into the confined space. 
“I’ll be out here,” he mumbled as you shut the door, putting a shovel against it since it didn’t really even close all the way. 
You knew he wasn’t the peeping type, so you began tearing away at your clothes, the ones that had been worn completely through by now and needed replacing anyway. You had more back at camp, but you had always missed dresses. This would be the first of many you would probably buy for yourself, but it was going to remain your favorite, because of who it came from. 
It was just like clock work, muscle memory helping you to remember all the little ties and snaps that needed to be in place, the corset laces that needed to be pulled enough to fit the outer fabrics. You knew you probably needed a good hair brushing and face washing to actually look like a young woman again, but for now, the dress was doing wonders on your self esteem… or at least it did until you realized you couldn’t finish putting it on by yourself. The buttons on the back went up higher than your shoulder blades, and sat in a near impossible spot to reach. If there was a mirror, you could probably just contort yourself enough to get it together, but in a dark, barely lit tool shed, your options were limited. 
You sighed, pulling the shovel away from the door and peaking your head outside. Arthur had nearly gone through an entire cigarette in the time you took to change. 
“Arthur?” You asked timidly. 
“M’here, you alright?” 
“I can’t reach the back,” you admitted, just slightly embarrassed. “Can you give me a hand?” 
He was all too happy to comply, stomping out the cigarette on the ground and taking quick steps to reach you. “Turn around.”
You did as he told you, turning so he had access to the open back of the dress. He couldn’t see you all too well in this light, but even from what he could see, a few words entered his mind from a past conversation you had with him. 
I used to be quite the stunner… and he surely believed it. 
His fingers caressed the exposed skin of your back before buttoning the fabric closed, smoothing it down over your shoulders and watching the way it fit you perfectly. 
“Don’t mention this to Abigail,” you joked, turning back around and trying to keep the mood light. It was beginning to feel too intimate, and you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that way with Arthur anymore. 
“Why?” 
“Well, I might be a bit old fashioned, but isn’t it frowned upon for a taken man to be helping another woman with her dress?” 
It was just another joke, but he seemed to be completely thrown off by the implications. 
“I ain’t a taken man,” he confessed, looking at you with a stare that was all too deep, and all too consuming. He needed to stop that, but you didn’t have the heart to make him. 
“Not yet,” you corrected, but again it was you in the wrong. 
“No,” he shook his head, trying to bring a serious tone to the conversation. “I’m not gonna marry Abigail.”
Your face screwed up in confusion, thinking about all the times when he collapsed in her tent with Jack, just to get up and help him in the night. He was Jack’s new father, wasn’t he? That was the deal he made. 
“Why not? I thought that you were- well since you were helping with Jack and… what about your deal?”
“I said I was gonna do right by this boy, and I am… But Abigail won’t have me,” he shrugged, admitting to the rejection she gave of his offer. “She’s still in love with John, n’ I can understand it.”
It should have made you feel a bit of sadness, to know that even with all that Arthur was, someone would turn him away like that. ‘Abigial won’t have me’ sounded like perhaps he thought himself not good enough, just as he always does. Despite all of this, you didn’t feel sorrow, you felt an abundance of joy. A wide smile spread across your cheeks, and he furrowed his brow. 
“What’re you smilin’ about?”
“Nothing,” you dropped the smile and shook it off, running a hand up his arm and giving it a sincere squeeze. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I know you’ve meant well.”
“S’alright. Hosea’s been tellin’ me since Jack was born that I shouldn’t have offered. He doesn’t think we’re right for one another, somethin’ like that.” 
“I agree, you’re not right for each other,” you spoke out loud, though that thought was meant only for your head. 
Arthur seemed to be catching on slightly to your behavior, stepping a bit closer and staring downwards at you. 
“Yeah? And who am I right for?” He teased, watching the redness of your cheeks spread down your neck and shoulders with every breath you took. 
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out,” you did your best to counter his taunts, stepping away from him and going to collect your old clothes from the shed. Once they were in hand you turned back to the opening of the alley, making way for the horses. “You coming?” 
And of course, he followed, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. 
-
The next day fared better than you thought it would, if you’re being honest. 
You didn’t really know why, if Dutch had said anything, or if Hosea did, but after you returned to camp the previous night, everyone seemed to be acting just fine. They treated you differently for sure, but not badly. In fact, you noticed the men had a certain kind of reverence to you that they never held before. The same they did with the other women. 
Maybe it was just the beautiful dress that Arthur bought for you, the light and pure color of it giving you a sense of being ethereal, having finally exposed the raw feminine beauty that was hiding for so long. You reckon you’d even start growing out your hair again, as the short style coming to your chin was not how you preferred to have it in the first place.
You still went to work doing the same tasks you normally did, but were careful not to rip your dress or over-exert yourself, given you were still in the same physical condition as the day before. 
“Charl- I mean, Miss Brooks?” 
You heard a voice chirp softly from beside you, and you dropped the wagon supplies for now to walk over to the owner of said voice, Tilly.
“Yes, Miss Tilly?” You extended a smile, and she smiled back, albeit a tight and awkward one from where she was sitting. You took a step or two closer, and she had to shake her head after getting a better look at you. 
“I just-” she cut herself short on account of the words already jumbling in her head. “I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us.”
You furrowed your brow to her, unsure of what she could have possibly meant. 
“Why would there be?” 
“Well, if you can recall,” she started, a nervous chuckle in her speech. “I tried to make some… advances towards you. Back when I thought you were uh… a young man.”
You smiled again and ducked your head, a scoff of laughter and a nod of your head brought about less tension. It was no big deal. 
“Don’t worry yourself, Miss Tilly. I was the one who tricked ya, I oughta be apologizing. Probably should to Abigail, too.”
“Abigail?”
You tilted your head, recalling the scene. About two weeks before Jack was born. You’d done the same thing Arthur did, with not a care of revealing yourself in the future. 
“Before John even left, I offered her to be Jack’s ‘father’ when he was born. I guess I was pretty certain at the time no one was gonna find out,” you explained, leaning against the wagon she sat by, mending a shirt that looked like Arthur’s. You could tell by the wear and tear around the shoulders, where his broadness likely just caused the fabric to break down faster. 
“Could you really have gone on like that?” 
“I don’t know,” you pondered, another small laugh escaping you. “Maybe not, since I had to tell everyone I was eighteen just for them to believe it.”
“You aren’t eighteen?” She seemed surprised. Maybe you just had a young face. 
“No, ma’am. Twenty two nearing twenty three as a matter of fact.”
“I’ll say,” she tutted, throwing down the shirt she was finished with, and picking up a new one. “You had us all convinced. Makes me wonder where you really came from.”
You thought about telling her, but the story was long and today was a busier day than before. There was actual work to be done in preparing for the next job, a few days ahead. 
“Some place I didn’t wanna be,” you chided, stepping away from the wagon, nodding to her in thanks for the small chat. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Alright. I’ll catch you around,” she spoke sweetly, a kind look of relaxation on her face, now that she knew where she stood. 
You went back to work, making sure that neither Dutch nor Hosea saw you with idle hands today. You wanted to make sure that no matter what happened now, you wouldn’t be cast aside. You still had the abilities they needed, but with a skirt on your hips, they saw you differently, and it was up to you to show them you were not going to be ignored when it came to jobs in the future. 
You hated that the rest of the women in camp were just seen as stationary helpers, only capable of mending clothes or cleaning up the camp, or even just laying the groundwork in town for the men to actually pull jobs. You’ve seen Abigail in action, she was smart and cunning and had a great way with words, she could be the difference in things staying civil or having a shoot out during a quiet robbery, but the men overlook her gifts. You know the women in this camp have great potential, and perhaps if they let you continue as you have been, they will open the opportunities for the others as well.
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am-i-the-asshole-official ¡ 1 year ago
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am i the asshole for yelling at my friend when i found out he had sex in my car?
i (26f) lived with my friend John (26m) when we were in college. John didnt have a car, but i did so i did most of the driving when we needed groceries/whatever we needed to go out for (it was a college town so it was mostly walkable, so we didnt need to drive every day). i have issues with other people using my car, especially when im not there (if anything goes wrong id rather it be my fault than have to deal with someone else totaling my car). but John had a girlfriend (Sarah) who also didnt have a car, so he would sometimes borrow my car (with my permission ofc, he never took it without me knowing) to take her on dates. when they were gone, i would constantly be nervous that something went wrong. there would be times they would go to a movie, then they would be gone for longer than the movie's runtime and i would get so anxious that something happened, then find out that they had just gone shopping/to dinner/etc after the movie ended. i never bothered saying anything because i didnt want to seem like a control freak saying "you can only borrow my car if you tell me exactly what you're doing and when you'll be back"
anyways, fast forward to now. i got a new car a couple years ago, John and i no longer live together (not because of any problems, we just got our own places after we graduated), and he is still with Sarah. one day John, Sarah, a few of our other friends, and i were all hanging out.
then at one point, Sarah made a joke about having sex in the car after Yesterday (the beatles movie from a few years ago). then i said "hold on, didnt you guys borrow my car to see that movie?" and everyone got really quiet. i turned to John and said "you had sex in my car???" and he tried to laugh it off but didnt deny it. and i got MAD. i was yelling at him and admittedly was pretty harsh (like calling him insensitive for violating my trust & property)
he said something along the lines of "i'm sorry, but it was a long time ago and theres nothing i can do to change it, and you dont even have the car anymore" and i realized he was right, and that screaming at him wasnt going to accomplish anything, but i was still mad so i left and went home
i asked some of my friends that were there if i was being crazy, and they basically said that it was understandable that i was mad, but yelling at him in front of everyone just made them uncomfortable and killed the vibe for the rest of the night, and there was nothing any of us could do about it now. no one told me how Sarah reacted, but she has really bad anxiety so knowing her, im guessing she didnt take it well that i got mad about something she said, and i do feel bad about that (though, in fairness, i assume she knows common decency and would know that having sex in someone else's car is wrong)
anyways, i dont think im the asshole because i think i have a right to be upset about that, and even though it was a long time ago i JUST found out about it so it wasnt that long ago for me. but i know i might be the asshole just because i yelled at John in front of our friends and made everyone uncomfortable over something that he can't do anything about anymore, and since i dont even have that car anymore, it has no impact on my life
tldr: my friend had sex in my car years ago and i found out about it and tried to fight with him about it in front of a bunch of our other friends, and it made everyone uncomfortable. so, am i the asshole for getting angry years after my friend had sex in my car? 🚗
What are these acronyms?
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connorsui ¡ 24 days ago
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Hi hi, me's again :3
I have another daydream idea thing I think you'll like. You don't have to do anything with it or respond to it. I know you're trying not to write about characters you've been giving a lot of attention RN. I just REALLY wanted to share this with you.
SO hear me out: Doctor Who type thing X L&D?
There was an episode where River and I think Clara were in a book and that made me wonder.....
What if, because of a sort of similar situation, we were in the game? And even better, what if Sylus recognized us?
Also, warning: this turned out a lot LOT longer than I planned so I wanna apologize ahead of time. I'm really really sorry about that.
Imagine:
You've got a weird eccentric friend that likes to go on weird adventures as of late (maybe he's having a midlife crises?), and you usually have to join in cause you're his friend and besties with his wife.
One day, said friend (we'll call him John cause lol) bursts in while you're playing your fave game teasing and flirting with Sylus. John says there's some shit going on and youve gonna move NOW. So with no time to spare, you just turn the screen off and run.
Apparently the thing causing problems today is an electric type kind of monster that for of course is also able to shape shift cause dealing with it wouldn't have been hard enough. Why not add it shape shifting? Well, stupid thing gets hurt and scared. It hides while you, John, and Melody (bestie) are looking for it and it decides to hop into your phone to hide. Of course this didn't go unnoticed so John helps you and Melody to hop into your phone with it (he isn't able to go in himself, so he's gonna find someone to help him hop in while you and his wifey do some shit)
Sylus always heard a voice whenever he spent time with you. Either flirting, sassing, joking, name calling when angry, sometimes singing in battle if the voice seem to be in a nervous or energetic mood. He couldn't SEE who was speaking, but no one else seem to notice so he ignored it. His Kitten mattered to him, not this voice (regardless of how similar it was to his Kitten).
One day, his Kitten started acting strange. Not by a lot, but she seemed more distant. She didn't tease, flirt, or even cutely pout out of anger. No one else seem to notice a difference, his Kitten didn't think there was a difference, but he could just FEEL it.
Soon enough though, he figured out why.
He saw two new women walking in the N109 Zone, talking about something serious (as if that was anything new to him). He sent Mephisto to spy on them for him. If they were gonna try anything, he needed to know.
But call him surprised. Not only did they seem to be talking about some kind of monster in the area, but one of them seemed a lot like his Kitten. Exactly like her actually. The way she spoke, it was definitely the same voice he'd always heard. She had the same personality as his Kitten before she grew distant. The same teasing, same sass, same pouty reactions and excitement over junk food, even the little song she sang when she was nervous was the same (he's sure the one she sings when excited or energetic would be the same as well). She didn't resemble Miss Hunter by any means. Appearance-wise, she was much more ordinary (not that it'd mean anything to him), but the fact was undeniable now.
THIS was his Kitten.
He gathered more information (stalking), at first just to be sure but quickly turned to a need to know all her likes and dislikes, any allergies or addictions. He needed to know everything, and keep her safe.
She seemed less capable than Miss Hunter so he'd have to keep an extra close eye on her. Especially because this monster they were after sounded more dangerous than an average Wanderer.
And now he sees another man joining the two women? Was he there for his Kitten? He couldn't think he was worthy of-
Oh.
He's.....married to the other woman. Well, good for him. His Kitten had married friends. And his Kitten is his, having heard her tell her friend (as well as him on multiple occasions before he saw her) that she loved him and would stay at his side in a heartbeat. His heart ached though, she didn't believe herself worthy of him. Didn't think he could ever love her (oh how wrong she was).
He would prove her wrong very soon. Once the threat was gone, he was determined to prove it to her.
You and Melody met up with John after a few in game days (you stayed in a hotel, though you're not sure how that was possible as neither of you had in game money). While waiting for him, you told her about the world you're in. The Wanderers, the N109 Zone, and especially the man that ran it. You told her all about Sylus as if be was a real man you had a huge crush on (ok, crush might be a strong understatement), how much you loved him and accepted her would never be yours. He has Miss Hunter. The one he'd spent decades waiting for, very likely never been interested in taking or accepting anyone else. She finally was being loving towards him in game so what should he care for the one controlling her (for the most part). The one he couldn't see or hear.
When John showed up, you immediately shut up about Sylus and got to work trying to figure out how to find the stupid thing so you could go home and play your game and pretend the man you loved loves you back. (John had a habit of using you as a sacrificial lamb to distract whatever threat there was so they could get away. You made sure to complain about that to Melody before John got there, specifically the fact that it was only ever you to do that). Once you figured out how to recognize it and how to hurt it, you all went out and split up to look for it.
First, it pretended to be a flying wanderer. Maybe cause it was similar to it somehow?
Next it was one of the extras. You didn't even remember his name.
Then, it pretended to be Miss Hunter. How ironic....
You'd all gathered to fight it as her (mostly cause it was gonna be hard for you to hurt the girl you designed). At some point though, there was so much chaos that you had to take cover. When you peeked out of your cover, you saw you were blocked off from the others.
Great. Now you'd have to go around. Least you didn't have to worry much for them, they were both very capable of dealing with it, were use to it by now, and definitely had a lot of fun doing it. Why you were here, you could only guess it was out of pity, to be a lamb, or both.
You were having a hard time though. Every way around in the direction you needed to go was blocked off by what looked like fresh rubble. You sigh, probably the result of that thing your friends were fighting (spoilers, it was not). You wanted to climb over one of them, you were so annoyed, but it was too steep and there somehow wasn't anything stable to grob onto.
You finally gave up and went to a cafe (wait, what was a cafe doing in the N109 zone?) just to sit and relax. You were so tired that you didn't question the cafe or its placement, just happy it was there. You usually werent this active, you were sure you lost some weight just from all the running around. Thankfully, this cafe had a couch like in Friends so you layed down and quickly (accidentally) fell asleep.
When you woke up, you felt like you were being held and someone was gently stroking your head. You would have thought it was Melody, if the chest wasnt a mans. A chest that was more toned than Johns too. What the fuck was this?
You were still so tired though and he wasn't doing anything creepy yet, so you figured you'd try to relax and wait for a chance to sneak off to find your friends.
You noted how he held you was gentle but was still firm as to keep you in place (maybe to keep you from falling). His fingers were raking through and playing with your hair while petting your head. His heart was beating fast, almost erratic, in contrast to the gentle actions. He smelled good, like cologne but there was something else there you couldn't quite place.
Just then, there was the sound of a phone ringing. You felt him move to pick up the phone and hang up before putting it down and continuing the gentle affection. The phone rang again and the man growled in clear annoyance, picking it up again and answering it this time.
"What is it? Make it quick." he told whoever was on the other line in a whisper that was cold and annoyed.
Wait....that voice.....
SYLUS?! Why in all the flying fuck is HE holding you?! And in an affectionate way, you're not even tied up!!
You heard him sigh, and slowly unwrap himself from you to gently place your head on a pillow and tuck you in before getting off the bed and leaving the room.
You open your eyes to see you're where you thought you'd be when you recognized his voice, in his room and in his bed.
You move to get up and see you're now in a silk nightgown. HOLY SHIT, HE CHANGED YOU?! How did he even do this without waking you?! You really REALLY hope it was a maid or something that changed your outfit. That would at least make it less weird (maybe).
You find your cloths rather easy, they're on the floor near the door, so you tip toe over to grab and put on your socks to at least try to protect your feet from the freezing floor. Then you look over at the bathroom door which, while closed, does have its light on. You look between the bathroom door and the bedroom door. You SHOULD sneak out and get back buuuuuuuut you have so many questions.
You tip toe over to the bathroom and try to listen to a little of the conversation, pressing your ear to the door. There's nothing though, he's either too quiet to hear or he's not talking. Damn.
You're contemplating staying to listen or go back to the bed to wait, when the door opened and you crashed into the mans chest with a squeak. He laughed at the sound you made, his arms already wrapped around you in a tight embrace to keep you in place.
"What's my naughty Kitten doing out of bed?" He asked with an amused smirk.
His....Kitten...?
Did this man just call you......his Kitten...?
He tilted your head (that was buried in his chest) up to meet his gaze. "What, no sass today? Cat got your tongue?"
You deadpanned. You loved puns and dad jokes, but that ones just cringey and overused. "Oh ha ha Crow man."
"There she is." He said softly, though clearly still amused. He picked up up, making you yelp in surprise which made him smirk.
You groaned as he carried you over to the bed and set you down. "With your love for shiny and expensive things, I've got no idea why I'm here..."
"I wasn't aware you could make such adorable sounds." He chuckled, completely ignoring what you said to tease you.
You sigh. "What am I doing here Sylus? Shouldn't Miss Hunter be here? Ya know, your Kitten? The love of your life?" It didn't make sense Miss Hunter wasn't here instead. Man will make up reasons for her to stay. And why weren't you tied up or being interrogated? Why why he being nice to you?
Sylus frowned a bit at that. He'd have preferred to keep a smirk but he couldn't help it. You were here at his side and you weren't getting it. "Did you think I never heard you?" He asked, sitting on the bed with you, and pulling you in to hold you. There was clear confusion on your face, and something almost like anger. Explaining this would take some time.
So over the course of an hour and a half, he explained everything. That he heard you, Miss Hunters change due to you being here, how he recognized you. Everything.
"Seriously?!" He chuckled. "Yes Kitten, seriously." He was relieved you were finally starting to get it, that he fell in love with you without even knowing it and immediately recognized that when he found you walking his streets.
"OH SHIT, MELODY!!" You went to get up but he held tightly. "Is fine. Your friends are back at the hotel." Though they might be wondering where you were by now. He'd have to send the twins for them. He COULD keep paying for your rooms but he liked the idea of having you here with him, and you likely would want your friends here with you.
"Do you know if-"
"Taken care of." He saw to the monster himself, though it was a bit of a challenge keeping you separated from it. You and your friends were persistent, you less so though. When the twins blocked off that part of the city to you, it took little time for you to give and wait for your friends. His poor Kitten, so tired and obviously just wanted to go home and relax with him again. You likely didn't even wanna be there. He was thankfully able to make quick work of the thing.
"O-ok..? How the hell did I get here?" He smirked, about to make a teasing remark but you quickly added "OTHER than being carried in here, you smartass." He couldn't help but laugh. You knew him so well, and now he knew you even more so.
"The twins brought you after you fell asleep, Though I've got no idea how you never woke up."
"And..." You gestured to the nightgown.
"I bought it on the way home." He knew that wasn't what you were asking but it was too tempting not to tease you.
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Do I?" He smirked more.
"Sylus!!" You whined.
"What, no Sy this time? No hubby? I'm disappointed Kitten." He fake pouted, clearly enjoying himself way too much. Though he really was a little disappointed you had yet to call him by any of the usual nicknames you used.
You already figured that so you gave him what he wanted. "Sy Sy, please?" You said in the cutest voice you could muster with the best puppy dog eyes. He was acting like he was YOUR lover so youre gonna take advantage. Sitting up in his lap and holding onto his face, you brushed your nose up to his. He melted into your touch with a contented sigh. It made you happy to see it but you need answers. "Won't my loving boyfriend please tell me what I wanna know before bed? Please?" You cutely begged.
"On one condition."
DAMMIT, you were so sure that'd work. "And that is?"
"Information isn't free. I think a fitting price would be..." He looked at your lips.
You blushed. He's....asking for a kiss...? You can't help but smile. "A kiss?"
He looked back up at your eyes.
"Information first, then reward." You said playfully.
He pouted but obliged, leaning back on the headboard with his arms wrapped around your waist. "Yes Kitten, that was my doing." You were about to yell at him but he interrupted. "No, I did not look. I just wanted to be sure you'd be comfortable."
"Ok, good." You signed in relief. You knew he wasnt a pig and he wouldn't do anything, but it still was a relief to know. "Do my friends know I'm ok?"
"They will. I plan to send for them later on."
And now for the biggest question. "How long am I gonna be here..?"
He raised a brow at that. "As long as you'd like. Though with how you complained about your life, I assumed you would wish to stay permanently."
You looked away, biting your lip as you thought. You had to admit, it was very tempting. You didn't have much of a life back home. You didn't talk to your family, your friends back at the hotel were your only friends, and you hadn't had a job for a little while. There was still your cat though, Youd die before leaving him behind. And your mothers necklace.
On the other hand, its a completely different life. One that'd be far more dangerous. He'd protect you no problem and would likely even train you himself if you were up for it. There was just a lot of things to consider. You could probably get away with being lazy and not doing anything but you didn't wanna be dead weight. You didn't want him to have to teach you to be productive but the man did love quality time.
Then there's also the other guys. Would they recognize you like he did or would they only care for your MC? You didn't really care much for them, you've always been a Sylus girl, but you also liked them enough to not wanna hurt them (except Celab. He's scary).
You looked back at him as he patiently waited for your reply. If you stayed, you'd finally be with someone you love, and who actually loves you back.
"Would I be able to go back long enough to get a few things?" You asked nervously.
He smiled. "I assume so."
"No, I mean....would you be ok if I-"
He interrupted by pulling you in a tight embrace again, cradling your head as he rubbed his nose to yours before resting his forehead on your own. "I trust you to come back to me Kitten."
You signed with a dreamy smile, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of being so close now that all your current questions were answered. "Its settled then." You probably wouldn't be able to tell your friends though. Knowing John, he wouldn't want you to stay here forever cause it's not a real world. You just have to make up a reason to come back later.
"Satisfied Kitten?" He wasn't really questioning that, you knew he's just looking for his reward.
"Yes." You giggled and finally gave the man his reward. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him with as much love as you could, getting back the same amount back from him.
This was gonna be a great life. You could feel it.
THE WAY U COMING TO ME WITH A FULL FIC HAS ME IN SHAMBLES 👁👄👁🩷✨️!?!?! AND YOU EXPECT IMMA JUST READ AND SAY GOODBYE??
After the package that was just sent? ..my luv this ain't a little letter you just leave inside my mailbox and I throw out ...everybody else gotta read this too 😭😭 and I would do it with a full mic if I gotta
I ain't gonna lie thooooo ... u make this so hard for me not to write sylus 👀👀 because it's not only such a good idea but it's so unique in itself!? ...like I was a doctor who girlie 😩🩷 mixing my two faves into one would be a literal God send✨️
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I say ...no sylus for a week ...madam8 says: nah ..take sum sylus pills anyway💅🏻✨️
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so-much-for-the-seashells ¡ 10 months ago
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Always
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Dean Winchester (Supernatural) x GN!Hunter!Reader
Disclaimers: The only character I own is the reader insert.
Author’s Notes: I’m writing this the day after I swore I’d never do angst. Ironic, huh. I’m working on getting more power across in my words- hopefully that shows.
Anyhow, this is set after <S2 SPOILER> John dies saving Dean. Obviously, given the nature of his passing, Dean can’t talk to Sam about it- but in this story he has someone he can talk to.
Icons by @gosling-girlx !! ❤️❤️
As always, all notes are very much appreciated!
Content/Content Warnings: This is angst at its finest. A 16+ audience would be preferred on this piece.
“What if, for just once in your life, you manned up and actually talked to me?” My voice is loud. It’s booming, and it’s borderline angry. My hands are balled into fists at my sides, and my jaws clenched.
I’m just so done. I try so hard with Dean, and I’m always patient. When he doesn’t want to talk, I don’t pry. I’m there for him whenever he needs me, however he needs me, wherever, at any hour, without so much as a second thought. I’ve never faulted him for not being able to say “I love you,” or for not being gentle when I need him to be. And I will always do these things.
But I am not okay with being told to “Stop fucking doing that,” ‘that’ being me trying to ask him if he’s okay. I let him get away with a lot of things, maybe more than I should, but outright cussing and waving me off? That’s too much.
So fine. We’ve been yelling at each other at least ten minutes now. Far too loud for a shitty motel with paper thin walls, surely, but right now I need him not only to hear me, but to listen to me.
He’s stood down after that last question. His shoulders slumped from their tense posture, his jaw no longer clenched. He’s trying so hard to retain his scowl, but I see the tick in the corner of his mouth. I see the way that his beautiful green eyes start to water.
No matter what cruel things he said to me, I refused to retaliate. He can swear at me all he wants, but he won’t get the same treatment in return. Because nothing can take down the thick walls of the elder Winchester like human decency. Something he’s never properly gotten from anyone- his own father included in that omniscient “anyone.”
“So?” I ask, my hands still fists. I won’t back down until he does, I can’t give him the chance to roll his eyes and turn away like he would with anyone else.
“I-,” his voice gets caught in his throat. “Cause I’m no man, sweetheart. Certainly not man enough for you.”
“Cut the shit, Dean,” the swear slipped out of my lips before I could stop him. I see him flinch, and my heart pangs, fists unclench. Suddenly, I’m not so fired up. “Sorry, sorry. Listen, this isn’t about what you are for me. Because if it was, we wouldn’t be fighting. You’re perfect for me, Dean.”
“Just-,” I stop myself, moving back to sit on one of the dingy hotel beds with its ugly orange gingham duvet. I sit cross-legged, back against the flat puke-green pillows propped against the headboard, looking up at Dean who is still standing in the same spot like a statue. “C’mere,” I pat the bed gently.
He obeys wordlessly, a listless quality to the way he drags his feet to where I’m sat. He doesn’t sit, though, a clear tentativity in his watery eyes. “Dean, it’s okay.”
Okay to cry, I want to add.
Okay to feel.
Okay to be human.
He sighs. “I’m just not good at talking, Y/n. I never had anyone to talk to- my dad was my boss more than anything, I had to- have to- be strong for my brother, and anyone else who’s come into my life seems to fit into one of those two categories.” A singular, perfect tear runs down his face. His expression is stony, but his voice… while as deep as always, it has a broken quality to it, something he’s trying to hide.
“Dean. I’m not anyone. You can talk to me, you can be broken with me,” I urge, mentally willing him to come sit by me so I can touch him, hug him, anything.
Finally, he sits. I don’t reach out to touch him, not yet. He looks shaky.
“Listen. I know Sam’s been up your ass trying to get you to talk about him. I know aren’t big on touchy feely stuff, and I ain’t gonna push you. But I need you to stop lashing out at me when I ask you if you’re okay.”
His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide. His lower lip quivers, finally breaking his scowl. A sad, splintered chuckle leaves his lips. “Y’know, he’d do the same to me. I’d ask, sometimes, after a real bad hunt, and he’d lash out… I’m too much like him, y/n. That’s why I don’t want to talk about him.” His voice is just a little too steady, almost artificial.
“You’re not too much like him, not at all,” I say, reaching out to him, but stopping before my hand can touch his. I’m letting him be the one to pull the trigger, to decide if he wants physical touch right now. “You’re better than he could’ve ever hoped to be, Dean. He knew that. Sam knows that. I know that.”
And that’s what breaks the dam, tears freely falling down his stubbled cheeks. He takes my hand in his, holding tight before I tug at him, inviting him to lay in my lap. He obliges, head resting in my lap. I take initiative to run my fingers through his hair, something that I’ve found soothes him.
“I just-,” his voice is broken, there’s no hiding it now. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” I murmur. “I just want to help you be okay, that’s all.”
We sit like that for a while, his head in my lap as he cries. He doesn’t sob, but occasionally choked up noises escape him, and it breaks my heart seeing him like this. Eventually, I find it in myself to speak again.
“I know he never really said it, Dean. But he loved you, he did. He trusted you. He was thankful for you,” I tell him, wiping some of the tears off of his face.
John Winchester might’ve been a sorry excuse for a man after Mary died, fine.
But it was clear that he loved his boys, especially Dean, even if it was in his own fucked up way.
I hated the Winchester father. Quite frankly, I still do. For the way that he had put revenge in front of the care of his kids, for the way he treated his kids, even into their adulthood. I mean, making an eight year old take care of a four year old? How bad of a father can you be?
He’s a son of a bitch. But in the end, even though the bastard never once validated his elder son (nor his younger)- and he should’ve- he died for Dean. And I know Dean’ll blame himself for it. But the fact that his dad loved him… that might be enough to make the self-resentment more lenient. That and the fact that he has me.
I won’t let him hate himself or feel unloved. I think John knew that- that Dean would have far better support if he was gone. I’m know he knew how much Dean respected and idolized him, but I also know damn well that he knew damn well that he was not good enough for his son. Not nearly good enough.
So hopefully, between me and Sam, we can mend the hole in his heart. Help him feel whole again.
But for now he needs this. To cry, to feel. Something he never felt he could, not in the presence of anyone else.
Gradually the tears slow to a stop. He sniffles, wiping his face, but not moving his head from my lap. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“Always,” I lean down and kiss him on the forehead. “I mean that.”
“I love you.”
There’s no stutter or pause in his words. He’s said them, plain and simple, as if this isn’t the first time he’s been able to get the words out. I guess it’s my turn to cry, because I feel a tear trickle down my face, landing on his. He grins a crooked grin at that. “Is it that bad a fate?” he jokes.
“No, no,” I choke on my laugh. “I love you too.”
And sure, there’s going to be more nights like these. Nights where we fight, and maybe sometimes they won’t end so well, so neatly.
There’s going to be more fights. Stupid fights, nasty fights.
But there will also be more I love yous. More holding. More feeling.
And no matter what happens, I’ll be there for Dean Winchester. Always. And I mean that.
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mamawasatesttube ¡ 1 year ago
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I don't know that much about superboy so forgive me if this is a silly question but what's the deal with Magdalene Visaggio?
not a silly question, dw!! if you haven't read many kon comics it probably doesn't look particularly noteworthy but OOF. OOF.
the tl;dr of it: despite being paid to write him once, she also hasn't read kon comics and it really, really, really shows. i'm talking geoff johns levels of flagrant disregard for the existing character - maybe even worse than geoff? which i say only because i know geoff did read sb94 even if he didn't act like it. but that's off topic; this isn't a geoff hatepost. this is a magdalene hate post.
under a cut for length, lets goooo!
so we start out with her canonizing supermartian. already off on the wrong foot - that's a ship out of yja the tv show which is a completely separate continuity from main comics and a completely different kon than main continuity kon. despite supposedly knowing that, she still shoves them into a relationship in main continuity, despite them never having actually interacted on page in main continuity.
she then goes on to characterize kon as angry and entitled and uncaring, and also in high school again. not only does she directly contradict all of his preboot existing characterization (which is important because kon-el never got reset during flashpoint - he was in another universe and thus dodged that bullet. current kon-el is canonically the same kon-el as pre-flashpoint/postcrisis kon-el.), but also she directly contradicts both young justice (2019) and superboy: man of tomorrow, which are in current continuity, leading one to really wonder if she has read a single comic kon appeared in at all. it's also worth noting that the asshole with anger issues characterization is, once again, much truer to the young justice animated tv show than any comic kon.
also worth noting is that the infamous red hair dye streak? well, uh...
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yeah..............
on her twitter, she once said something about kon-el not being a good name because it's "still a name someone else gave him", called him "the jason todd of the superfamily", and insisted that the meaning of a trans narrative is "burning down your life and reevaluating your place within it":
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kon-el is a name gifted to him to signify his acceptance into his family (superboy (1994) #59) and he was so overjoyed to receive it that he cried. overall, the superfam are very supportive and loving, and introducing strife just to make him run off and live with jinny hex instead of them just because she thinks one can't transition and retain previous relationships is... not it, lol.
her pitch also contained some outrageously egregious christianity bullshit, like villains named "saint", "shepherd", and "savior", as well as direct comparisons between clark and jesus christ. this is... sorry i really just have to say this is Fucking Cringe. i guess the more polite way to put it would be "incredible gauche" (considering the jewish origins of the superfam) but i just can't call it anything else. This Fucking Sucks Dude. i won't even get into the weirdness about genetic bullshit she leans into by introducing kon's "brother" who's also part luthor, part superman, but "luthor-dominant" (lol?) (do you know how genes work even a little bit).
she has quoted the one panel from reign of the supermen where kon says "don't ever call me superboy" a few times, claiming it's the first thing he ever said and no one listened. to me this essentially reads as her going "i've read one of his appearances and i would like to throw out the like 200 issues of character development he had since then in favor of making him my own self-insert to explore MY transition and religious trauma".
basically she doesn't seem to know how to write a story that's not about herself. as a trans person with a positive relationship with my given name (because as a first-gen kid of two diasporic immigrants, it provides an important tie to my family's cultures, to me) and with trans friends who involved their parents in picking new names and so on and so forth, i honestly find it very reductive and white to insist there's only one trans narrative and only one good way for trans characters to be named. i also find her putting her own christian religious trauma into a superfam story off-putting and . well. fucking cringe. i understand and respect that that is her story, but it sure ain't universal and i won't be able to respect her as a writer until it becomes clear she gets that.
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soullessjack ¡ 9 months ago
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"tell me on anon what you wouldn’t off anon"
i think dean was straight up abusive towards jack and while there is room for redemption to be explored, in canon, the show did not give him any sort of redemption. in other words in my eyes "canon" dean winchester is an abuser (but canon is unimportant anyways so whatever)
im scared of saying this and getting stoned to death
no need to comment you can just post this without saying anything if you want
- 🏴‍☠️
no no you’re right and you should say it, however I disagree that Dean was completely abusive and that there was never any canon redemption.
firstly I think there’s a slight difference in someone being abusive vs being an abuser;
abuse (or abusive behavior/tendencies) can happen accidentally, unintentionally, especially if it’s resulted from trauma (like Dean’s). you can be completely unaware that something you’ve done or said is abusive, especially because being abusive can be as simple as yelling or hitting someone, or treating them unfairly (like jack). people who have abusive tendencies or behaviors are capable of regretting it and wanting/trying to change…whereas an abuser is wholly aware, intentional and remorseless about their actions. they know what they are doing, they know it’s immoral/inhumane and they just don’t care—either because they feel entitled or justified in some way, or even if they don’t.
Dean has repeatedly shown plenty of regret, guilt and blatant self hatred for his abusive tendencies and how they affect the people around him. It’s one of the most important parts of his character, being the crux of his self worth and why he can’t accept that people (Cas) genuinely care about him or consider him a good person. When he refers to himself as “daddy’s blunt instrument” or “poison,” it isn’t just about being a hunter whose life constantly risks other peoples inescapably, it’s also about the violent nature that’s instilled into Dean constantly by John and how both of those things either isolates him from getting close to anyone else, or drives away people who do get close. That’s why there’s no light at the end of the tunnel for Dean, why he’s so resigned to dying bloody. It’s all he thinks he can ever have or really deserve.
When Jack is dying in 14x07, Dean physically cannot stand to see it. He’s angry that Jack is dying so young and so out of nowhere; he thinks it’s unfair and wrong, point blank. But above all else, (as Sam says) Dean canonically has never forgotten or forgiven himself for how he had treated Jack, even though by this point in time they’ve already had a good relationship for the past two years. He’s angry and upset that Jack is dying, but he’s also upset because he still thinks, after all this time, that he’s never been able to fully make up for what he did, and now he’s lost any chance to with Jack’s limited time. That’s why Dean decides to take him on the road trip; that’s why he says “Who would’ve thought being around me (the person who treated you terribly at one point) would make you (the person who didn’t deserve it) sentimental?”
When Dean leaves Jack’s room for the last time and wounds up being absent for his death, he’s even more upset about it, and later brings it up to take a dig at Sam for thinking he didn’t do enough for Jack because, by Dean’s own admission, Sam had always been the one to do more. “At least you were there for him [because I wasn’t, and I see that as another failure on top of everything else I did to him before].” And then, after the three of them get hammered in Jack’s memory, Dean turns to Cas and asks, “we did everything we could, right?” There’s a lot more in 14x07 but I’ll leave it alone for now, and move onto the redemption part of what you said.
I know I said I disagreed, but really it’s only partially; instead I believe that the show simply didn’t give enough time for a complete redemption (save me spn revival wish fulfillments, spn revival wish fulfillments save me). The end of S14 is basically the destruction of the Team Free Will 2.0 found family unit, not just between Dean and Cas, but also between Dean and Sam, and Jack and the three of them. And I think the reason there’s so much more emphasis on Dean’s relationship with Jack (+ why the family unit falling apart is specifically centered on it) is specifically because of how they started; Dean was initially the only one to be distrustful of Jack and mistreat him as a result, whereas Sam and Cas were willing to see Jack with more humanity and goodness, and when Jack proved that he was good that was the crux of Dean’s guilt going forward; his distrust was wrong and misguided, and the abuse he put Jack through because of it was even more wrong and undeserved.
But then after Mary’s death, the three of them have no idea what to think. They’re more reluctant than Bobby is to admit that Jack could have simply had his evil bone activated after losing his soul/eating Michael’s grace, but they aren’t excluding the idea either. The question up in the air now is: “Was Dean right all along? Were we wrong for trusting Jack and thinking he was good? Is all of this our fault?” (and going back to 14x07, the basic ‘framework’ of Dean’s dynamic with Jack is basically ‘I was wrong about you being evil and now that I love you I want to be keep being wrong about you being evil’ and ‘I want you to be wrong about me being evil too, especially now that you love me and I love you’).
Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack are all presented with the worst case scenario that had always been hanging over Jack’s entire existence. None of them want to believe it after growing so close to him (and vice versa), but they’re not given much else to consider. Mary’s death was one thing, one horrible tragic wound reopening, but they knew it was an accident and they knew Jack had tried to fix it. It isn’t until Duma got her claws into Jack and ordered him to kill nonbelievers that TFW finally decides they have to do something final about Jack, and Dean resumes his militant Kill All Monsters behavior. He’s dissociating into the blunt instrument mindset to protect himself from the grief of losing his mother and potentially losing his son. He can’t even bear to consider Jack his son anymore, both because of Mary and the task of killing him, so Jack becomes “just another monster,” in his dissociative mind. His son wouldn’t have killed Mary or tortured Nick or murdered people randomly because his son was a good person, and his son does not deserve to die, but whatever identical monster has inexplicably replaced Jack would certainly do that and certainly does deserve to die.
Dean’s “poison” is rooted in the fact that his coping mechanisms are intertwined with abusive tendencies and behaviors. He pushes people away if he thinks he doesn’t deserve their respect or love, and he buries any emotional attachment to them because he knows it’s his greatest weakness. That’s why he couldn’t bring himself to shoot Jack, regardless of the grief he felt for Mary or how much he tried to see Jack as a monster that wasn’t really his son. When Jack knelt down, said “I understand. I know what I’ve done. And you were right all along. I am a monster,” and then waited for the gun to go off, that’s what snapped Dean out of it. That’s what got him to see that this was still his son—that and the road trip from 14x07 flashing before his eyes. The grief he feels for Mary’s death is still painful and will be for a long time, but he won’t let it cloud him from seeing that his son is still there and still a good person who deserves the chance to make it right and be forgiven.
That militant dissociation comes back again following Jack’s death and Chuck’s retaliation/reveal that they’ve been nothing but a bunch of lowbrow Truman Burbanks to an unfeeling deity their entire lives. The most recent Destivorce is because Dean has constantly been pushing Cas away and severing their ties to cope with the situation. It’s bad throughout all of S15, but it’s especially worse towards the end when Dean is rampant on Jack’s suicide bomb plan happening for a chance at freedom. I’ve seen a LOT of people say that Dean’s love is conditional because of this, but it really…isn’t.
If Dean never cared about Jack, he’d never take time out of his life to spend some final moments with him, or share a specific father/son memory with him to indirectly communicate that he does see Jack as a son, but ultimately doesn’t feel like he deserves to be a father. If he truly felt that Jack “wasn’t family,” he wouldn’t have shown any of the concern for Jack that he did after Jack detonated in the Empty (frantically demanding to know if he’s alive and to bring him back); he wouldn’t have tried to apologize to Jack for hearing it, and he wouldn’t have *checks transcript* reacted in mild horror at Jack agreeing with what he said (and personally, if I’m insulting someone, I would want them to feel the same way that I feel).
Additionally, If Dean’s love is conditional, particularly on the basis of how useful someone is to him, then he wouldn’t have been expecting Jack to come back home with them or considering buying him actual gifts (a flat screen TV and a recliner, specifically for his room in the Bunker I might add) for saving the world.
Out of all the problems S15 had, I think the pacing was the absolute worst. Too many plots and one-off characters and plot devices squeezed into a short amount of episodes; too much focus put into filler instead of plot progression, etc etc. But what it absolutely missed out on was granting any of the characters any proper closure. I think that’s why Dean’s conflict with Jack feels so unresolved and unredeemed. Dean gets mean -> Dean feels bad -> Dean gets nice again, but that’s about it. For now I tend to view his dynamic with Jack as them being two sides of the same coin: Dean feels like he doesn’t deserve to be a father figure to Jack after everything he did, and Jack feels like he doesn’t deserve to be a part of their family as a son after everything he did.
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soft-pine ¡ 3 months ago
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spn20rewatch 2.01 in my time of dying
so dean is in the hospital almost dying, again. but this time john is there - and not only that - sam is there to watch john.
i think that because how this episode resolves is so well known that maybe we glaze over some of the intricacies of john's choices. for example, sam calls john out for not seeming to do anything to help dean.
SAM: How? How is revenge going to help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself, it's the same selfish obsession!
of note, this directly echoes what dean said to sam in the last episode.
DEAN: You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge.
john, of course, promises sam that he will "check under every stone" to help dean and, later, that he "won't hunt this demon. not until we know dean's okay."
and i think that because we collectively know that john ends up making a deal with azazel, maybe we forget that like.... he doesn't actually look under every stone. in fact, he doesn't look under any stones. as dean says, he doesn't call a soul for help; he doesn't even try. he pretty much goes with his first comment to sam, "i don't know if we're going to find anyone." he approaches dean's death as a forgone conclusion for which the only option is the deal with azazel that he spends the rest of the episode working on.
and despite his claim to sam that he's "doing this for dean," it is, of course, more complicated than that. when john first starts to make the deal with azazel, and he doesn't know yet that azazel will ask for his life, i wonder what he was planning. would he still have asked dean to look out for and potentially kill sam? if azazel hadn't asked for john's life, what else would john have been willing to sacrifice?
but this cloud of secrets and tensions leads to some all time great shots.
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the layers theory means that dean is feeling vulnerable in these scenes. and, well, of course he is.
DEAN: Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything? I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?
it kills me a bit that dean loses the memory of his angry speech to john (well until 4.15 that is) and that brings us to tessa, my beloathed. dean's interactions with her are so interesting to me throughout this episode.
first, she clocks that the best way to calm him down is to give him someone else to take care of. so she acts like a scared woman who's also trapped in the space between life and death.
and then she starts trying to manipulate him.
DEAN: So you're okay with dying? TESSA: No, of course not. I just think, whatever's gonna happen's gonna happen. It's out of my control, it's fate.
and dean, my beloved dean, always against talk of fate and destiny, throws back "huh, well, that's crap. you always have a choice." god, have i mentioned i LOVE him?
anyway, tessa's talk about fate here, her long argument to get him to accept death at the end of the episode, her comment about him being "the one who got away" in 4.15, really make me wish it had been her in 15.18 with the scythe: "It's you, Dean. It's always been you. Death-defying. Rule-breaking. You are everything I lived to set right. To put down. To tame. You are human disorder incarnate." i like canon very much and i am hesitant to wish things were different but the throughline here is so clear to me. (plus i am sad about billie's ending).
it kills me that during their conversation at the end, dean is begging to stay alive to save his family only to wake up and be asked to kill sam and then watch john die. (reminds me of the cruel twist at the end of 2.20, dean comes back to the real world just in time to watch sam die).
it's always so awful to hear john almost buttering dean up for his final, awful request.
JOHN: You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd... You'd say "It's okay, Dad" Dean, I'm sorry. DEAN: What? JOHN: You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put, I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you. DEAN: This really you talking? JOHN: Yeah. Yeah, it's really me. DEAN: Why are you saying this stuff? JOHN: I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay? DEAN: Yeah, dad, you know I will. You're scaring me. JOHN: Don't be scared, Dean.
cause everything john's saying here is true and i think part of him believes it and part of him knows he won't get another chance but all of it - the apology and the praise and the reassurance - are entirely undercut by what he's about to ask of dean.
because saying he's sorry he put too much (his emotional needs and sam's life, etc) on dean's shoulders is undercut by immediately putting sam's death on dean's shoulders. and saying he's proud of dean for taking care of him and sam is undercut by asking him to kill sam. and saying dean shouldn't be scared is undercut by telling him he has to watch out for sam or he might have to kill him.
john has three main touchstones in this speech and he immediately enacts the exact same harmful patterns.
it's awful that on the heals of "you're not my dad," dean is so worried it's not john talking but it is john and that makes what comes next so much worse.
speaking of john and azazel parallels. this one always gets me.
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they are both just so looming and too close.
finally, the first four episodes of season 2 end (or very nearly end) on haunting close-ups of dean's face. truly an unparalleled run of ending shots. here's the one for 2.01
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ps dean is walking around barefoot for like this whole ep on cold linoleum hospital floors and i know i KNOW he's just kinda a lil ghostie but i want to give him socks so bad! his poor cold little toes!!!
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joandfriedrich ¡ 22 days ago
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So, I just rewatched Little Women (2019) after 3 years and I have some thoughts. Sorta unorganized:
I really don’t like that there’s a young Friedrich. Where’s the age gap?
Jo can’t take criticism to save her.
I really dislike how the manuscript burning apology went. It seemed like it was more a chore Amy was doing then an actual apology.
I wish they had casted a actual child to play younger Amy.
I didn’t like how Jo didn’t seem angry at Mr. Davis for hitting Amy like in the book. She just accused’s her and asks “what did you do?” Where was her anger? In fact, we see her get angry twice the whole film, anger was a big thing for Jo in the book and it felt kinda dropped?
I wish Greta hadn’t did the scenes when they would young as flash backs. The cuts when Beth first gets sick and then when she dies are a bit too fast paced and doesn’t let you feel the weight of her loss.
The freaking letter Jo writes taking back Laurie’s proposal!
I didn’t like the whole “I’ve been second to Jo my whole life in everything.” No she wasn’t. It felt like a fanfic. This whole film feels like a rewritten fix it fanfic.
Where’s Laurie’s growth? I wish we could see his arc like in the book.
The most emotion Timothée Chalamet shows is in the proposal scene and a few smile a laughs here and there,but where’s the energy of Laurie in the book? In this film he just seemed… Idk… bored?
The costumes could’ve been way more accurate.
I didn’t like how unhappy Jo looked when she saw Amy when Laurie and Amy comes back home from Europe. That line when Amy asks Jo if she’s angry at her for marrying Laurie and Jo say’s “life’s too short to be angry at one’s sisters” while true in a different context, Jo was absolutely lying to Amy. Can’t convince me otherwise.
I didn’t like when Amy said “I’m half as smart as you and even I can tell you love him.” That felt like Greta was insulting Amy as a character and her intelligence and insinuating Jo as better than and smarter than and Amy lesser than. Amy is just as smart as Jo.
I simply didn’t like what she did with Meg and John. I wish there had been more of them. And wish there was a better casting of Meg. Sorry Emma.
And Beth didn’t really get much besides be the sickly shy sister.
Laura Durn, while a lovely actress in other films I didn’t like her as Marmee.
I didn’t like that she opens a school for boys and girls. In the book Jo love’s boys and wishes to open a school for just boys.
Also I don’t like how the film felt like a psa on not getting married.
The cinematography is very pretty I will say. I liked some of the shots of the film but that’s about it.
Anyway, These are just from the top of my head. I give this movie a 2 star rating.
Oh LM 19, I will never truly escape you. WARNING, VERY LONG POST!
They have an 11 year age gap, which is slightly smaller from the 16 year age gap in the original story. It doesn't help that Louis Garrel is more of a pretty boy than the burly professor in the book.
This was one of my major problems with Jo in this, because in the original story, she not only accepts Friedrich's criticism, but had actively asked him for his opinion. It makes her seem very immature when he, or other people, try to give their opinions, but I am sure Gerwig thought that it made Jo empowering (even though she already was in the novel).
Yes, thank you! I don't want to rag on Florence Pugh's acting when, admittedly, I haven't seen her in anything else, but in this movie, it was awful. And she just says it so calmly and unfeeling as if she was a psychopath explaining why she did what she did. Compare that with Kirsten Dunst's performance is really heartbreaking, even if it's only for a moment. And I do agree, Amy needs to be played by two actresses, one as a child and then an adult, because it makes Amy seem rather immature and annoying, which is what I feel leads to the unnecessary hate she gets.
Jo's temper is actually very important to her character and her arc, since she learns that it can do some damage to not only others but herself, and yeah, she just victim blames her sister unfairly. In the book, Chapter 7, after Amy tells her family what happened, Jo "wrathfully proposed that Mr. Davis be arrested without delay." And this just before the burning of the manuscript, meaning that this is before she and Amy start to have a better relationship. But 2019 Jo just seems to always have resentment for her sister. It doesn't feel like a family to me, since even when you are annoyed with your siblings, when someone hurts your sibling, you are ready to square up.
What's funny to me about the flashbacks is that in the 2018 modern day version did this, but it's done quite well, so it can be done, but Gerwig just seemed to presume that people would the story that they would be able to follow it, but there were times that I, who read the novel many times and seen many adaptations, still felt there was some confusing moments.
I too hated Jo writing a letter to Laurie because Book Jo would never! She may have been lonely, but she would never have married someone she didn't deeply love, and she didn't love Laurie that way. But this is Gerwig trying her best to appeal to everyone without thinking about if it makes sense to any of the characters.
Which leads into the weird love triangle between Jo, Laurie, and Amy. Some people I am sure will say, what do you mean, it was there in the novel. No, it actually isn't. Jo straight up says no because she doesn't love him romantically, multiple times, in fact, and Laurie starts to realize slowly, without prompt from either sister, that he had always loved Amy, with Amy not revealing the truth of her feelings until Laurie did.
Let us talk about Laurie. He's a delightful little shit in the novel, who grows from whiney to mature, and we don't see anything of that with Chalamet's performance. I believe the only reason he got the part was because he had worked with Gerwig before and she liked him. But beyond that, you're right, he doesn't offer much to his character, just kind of quiet and morose, and a typical pretty boy who can act like a little shit with no charm and redeeming qualities but we will just forgive him because...why? I don't know. She was just banking on girls having a crush on him to carry him in the film.
And since we have that ridiculous nonsense of Jo writing a letter to Laurie, it does make her comment to Amy seem hollow and insincere, when in the novel, Jo was happy that got married, demanding Laurie tell her all about it, and when she sees them together after returning married, she thinks "How well they look together! I was right, and Laurie has found the beautiful, accomplished girl who will become his home better than clumsy old Jo, and be a pride, not a torment to him." Jo never harbored any bad feelings about them getting together, and never had regretted her choice of turning Laurie down.
I never understood that line, about Amy not being as smart as Jo, because never in the book does it make Amy to be an idiot. Alcott points out how bad of a teacher Mr. Davis is, but once Amy got taken out and was taught by her sisters, she proved to be quite smart. And really, it's becomes a double burn since Jo was the one who taught Amy much of what she would grow up to know. Please make sense, Gerwig!
The costumes were a shock to me how not great they were. On a technically, they looked fine, and what I mean by that is, it wasn't cheap looking. But as you said, it was not historically accurate, which is odd considering that this was Jaqueline Duran who designed these, and she is a wonderful costume designer, so I am going to have to blame Gerwig for asking/accepting the final products. I speak a bit more in this post here.
I had hoped that Meg and John would have had more in this version given the actors that were cast, since I liked both actors and thought they looked good together, but we got so little of them, that I felt bad for James Norton for having such a thankless role. I was actually glad to see Emma Watson as Meg, since for so long people wanted her for Jo, so seeing her in a different role was nice, but she too got a thankless role since she is pushed to the background like Beth did. It felt like Beth was there just as a means to push Jo's story, whereas in the book she had way more character and arc that is just ignored.
I am so upset that with such a great cast list, but they were given such horrible content to act with. Truly did not like Dern's Marmee as she felt too modern and "cool mom" when Marmee was still the authority figure, but still kind and understanding. Susan Sarandon will forever be the best Marmee.
Funny thing is, in Little Men, the sequel, has girls accepted into their school. I wouldn't mind it if I hadn't felt that Gerwig did it not because she knew her Little Women lore, but because "we are the more feminist version and girls go to school too!"
And lastly, the feel of the film, which goes into the cinematography too. It is pretty to look at, but something that bothered me was her use of colors. The youth being portrayed as golden and cheery, but then adulthood is lit in a somber blue which gives this rather depressing vibe, as if growing up is awful, and as you say, don't ever get married, (ironic from a married woman). I hated having this "choose your own ending" as a poor attempt of satisfying everyone, but if we go with the coloring she had for this film, blue is the present day and what we have been following in the main plot, then it must mean that the gold is not real but a fantasy that is written in her book. While Jo does in the sequels get to write her books, Jo is NOT Alcott! While she did use her life to inspire her story, Alcott created something that separate and this weird merging of fiction with fact is what leads to much confusion to the real woman and what she intended her story to be.
It's remarkable how even after all these years, there are still things so many of us find utterly wrong with this film.
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