#very good- lots of things I would have loved to have seen done/handled differently | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

howlett-n-morgan · 2 months ago

Text

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

“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.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo @hollyskjlap

#arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x you

88 notes · View notes

nicksbestie · 8 months ago

Note

hi!! if you’re still doing requests, can i have a chris sturniolo x autistic reader in which reader has a habit of misplacing or losing things, but on a particular she keeps consistently misplacing losing a lot of things that she loves or that she needs and it all results in her having a very bad meltdown in which chris helps calm her down and eventually comforts her in the process?

Meltdown - C. Sturniolo

Summary : You're so lucky to have such a caring boyfriend who knows exactly how to help you in moments of distress <3

Warnings : Meltdown, emotional overwhelm

Word Count : 805

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i loved this req!! neurodivergent reqs are amazing, please keep sending them <3 reminder that ableism is not welcome here!

There were a lot of tendencies that you loved about being neurodivergent, and a lot of the time, you didn’t view yourself as any less than the average person, but there were always a couple traits that really frustrated you when it came to living as an autistic person.

You hated losing things. Not knowing where things were made you very anxious, but unfortunately, you couldn’t seem to stop doing it. No matter where you placed things, or how many times you reminded yourself that they were there, you always managed to end up losing them.

It was like your brain just blocked out the part where you moved them to a different location, or when someone else told you that they’d put them somewhere else, and you couldn’t find them for hours after that. It often caused you incredible frustration, especially if you’d lost more than one thing at once, and sometimes fueled you to the point of tears. You hated how much this happened to you, but you had no idea how to go about fixing it in any way. Luckily, you were very supported by your boyfriend, who was always good at finding things.

A lot of the time, he had been the one that moved the lost items, or the one that had seen you move them, and kept a mental note of where they were because he knew you would more likely than not, forget where they had been placed. He had quickly become an expert in keeping those situations from escalating into meltdowns, but sometimes you were just so upset about not being able to find important things that there was nothing he could do except help you find them and just comfort you the best that he could.

Unfortunately, one of those times was today. You had gone out to run errands, and Chris had come with you, even though it was just a grocery store trip. He often came with you, picking out a bunch of random food for both him and his brothers, some for videos, some just for fun. Because of this, he often wandered into different aisles than the one that you were in, thus going out of your sight. However, you had always remembered what aisle he was in, and he had always texted it to you just in case you forgot. But this time was different.

Chris had walked away to go to the bathroom, leaving you standing by yourself while picking out the things you needed from that aisle. You weren’t concerned, he had done this before, and always came right back, so you kept moving, grabbing things off of the shelves and putting them into your cart before turning into the next aisle over. Time continued to pass and you tried to brush off the anxiety that was beginning to roll in, but after fifteen minutes and no return of your boyfriend, you couldn’t help the freaking out that was going through your mind. You began taking longer breaths, trying to relax, and moving through the aisles around you to find Chris, but when you had gone through four of them and couldn’t see him anywhere, you couldn’t deny the tears filling your waterline.

Chris was arguably the most important thing in your life, and the feeling that you had lost him was too much for you to handle at any point in life. He wasn’t responding to your text asking where he was, and this only fueled the anxiety even more. The tears in your eyes had started falling by this point, still moving between aisles and hoping to see his familiar figure.

Chris had no idea that you were panicking. His phone had died while he was in the bathroom, and he had gotten distracted looking at some of the weird flavors of donuts and Oreos he’d seen on a small stand. It wasn’t until he heard soft crying near him that he realized what had happened, and immediately ripped himself away from the display, turning around to see you wandering between aisles, wasting no time in getting to you and pulling you into a hug.

Feeling the way that your shoulders shook against his body broke his heart, realizing the effects of what he’d done, despite it being unintentional. He whispered comfort to you, not caring about the people that had slowed down their walking to stare at the couple having a moment in the middle of the bread aisle, only focused on you. Apologies flew through the air along with promises to never leave you, and he refused to let go of you. He led the rest of the grocery trip, getting everything you needed for you, pausing every so often to wipe tears off of your face or to kiss the top of your head.

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

275 notes · View notes

radioapplerevue · 1 month ago

Text

Radioapple Fic Recs #2

I'm finally getting around to updating my fic recs, and I decided that it would get a bit too unwieldy to just keep adding on to the original post. So, from now on I'll be putting them into different parts and then linking them in an archive post, which I will pin on my blog. For now, my first post of recs can be found here.

There are also a bunch of unfinished fics that I have been keeping an eye on that I haven't read yet because they are fairly early on and their tags say something along the lines of "it gets worse before it gets better" haha. There are enough fics grinding my heart into dust at the moment, but just know that I am seeing those chapter counts go up. I'm Watching You.

Now, onto the recs!

Home Stretch by @tarmairons (mature)

Welcome to the most convoluted game of 20 questions I've ever seen. I love the slow, purposeful approach to showing how Lucifer and Alastor's relationship is shifting and merging to not only accommodate each other, but also tie them closer together. This is an entire fic of them attempting to communicate and really, honestly trying even if neither of them are sure of what the hell they're doing. And, of course, I love when fics really take the time to explore how Alastor's asexuality (and lack of experience with intimacy in general) would affect his approach and behavior when it comes to sex with Lucifer -- and also how Lucifer learns to handle Alastor in a way that meets his needs, even if the things Alastor needs are not what Lucifer's used to.

2. To Be The Perfect Angel, Some Sin Must Be Done by @hismercytomyjustice (ratings vary by part)

This is a series I've really super been enjoying, largely because it's just fun. Don't get me wrong, the explicit parts are hot too, but it's fucking funny and there's just such an enjoyable push and pull dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer here, where each give as good as they get and actually end up... maybe.... enjoying it? Whoops? And oh shit here comes feelings, where did those come from. And as always, I enjoy seeing how Alastor's asexuality is handled here, with his discomfort with making decisions or taking the lead in bed causing them to develop a dynamic where Lucifer makes all the calls, and Alastor makes the terrifying choice to trust him with his own body, pleasure, and safety. Plus, excellent use of the shadow here. Having the shadow play a significant role in a fic is always one of my favorite things, and I am also very here for shadow fucking at all times.

3. somewhere down the line by kj_crwn (explicit)

This is one of the "Alastor and Lucifer meet in the living world first" fics. I love Lucifer basically just coming up to the living world to be the biggest nuisance to Alastor he could possibly be, but whoops, I guess Alastor's into that. There's a lot of murder, a lot of two assholes trying to drive each other nuts (and succeeding), a lot of sexual tension, and a lot of said assholes being really, really bad at feelings. I particularly enjoy what happens from the time of Alastor's death up to the conclusion of the fic, and the way they have to come to grips with what their relationship is now, what it could be, and what they want it to be.

4. T is for Tax Evasion by @radiaurapple (teen and up)

This is a brand new fic, but my goodness I loved it immediately. I loved the take on Heaven's fucked up bureaucracy, I loved Lucifer's panic, guilt and weariness, and I love how God is a fucking dick. It's such an interesting concept that is explored through Lucifer's slowly crumbling psyche as the knowledge he's going to lose Alastor becomes more and more certain. Or is it? There are few things I love more than pre-emptive grief and utter desperation, and the emotional payoff is just so good. I would have loved to have seen more of the fallout, but regardless, this is one that I'll definitely be thinking about for a while.

5. I Will Dance Divine by @rahabs (mature)

This fic caught my attention immediately. A large part of is exploring Alastor and Lucifer's relationship through dance, and the first chapter is immediately gripping. There's such an immediate magnetism to them, as well as the clash between the performance they are putting on and the quiet battle they are having with each other. It made me so look forward to seeing where it goes. So far it seems to be a slow, but very thorough burn, with the fic taking its time to really let them come together naturally, and learn about each other in tantalizing pieces. I dearly hope it is continued as I want to see more, but what there is already is also a wonderful read.

6. Muzzle for My Lover by sabbathgoat (explicit)

This is a smutty one-shot, but it has one of my favorite depictions of a sexual dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer in anything. There's such a deep undercurrent of trust here, a trust that has been hard-earned over years. Lucifer's handling of Alastor, knowledge of his fluctuating boundaries and internal battles when it comes to his own body and desires, combined with his intense love and tenderness towards him just bleeds through the entire fic. I would happily read a several chapter story with them just lying there cuddling and doing nothing else if it was written with this same weight. It's one of those cases where you don't need to be told how in love they are, because it's impossible to not feel it.

7. Stolen Moments by @mothballmilkshake (ratings vary by part)

This series is quite the rollercoaster! Alastor and Lucifer's relationship in it hits some great highs and also some serious lows, because they are both so so bad at this oh my god. I like that it's from Alastor's POV, because I feel like we don't get that very often, particularly in the longer fics. And I also like that it just shows us what an absolute fucking disaster he is, haha. The continuing plot line regarding Alastor's deal is interesting and groundwork is being laid for some serious shit to go down later on. We'll have to see if Lucifer and Alastor's foundation has been built strong enough by then to not crumble under the pressure. But hey, after all they've gone through, I believe in them (.....mostly).

8. Hope Against Hope by OrlesianHat (explicit)

I don't tend to be into non-canon AUs, but I found I enjoyed this one quite a lot. Lucifer is being sent on a blind date, and the person he meets isn't exactly what he expected... or is he? There's no murder involved so automatically the fic is much gentler than canon would be, particularly with Alastor, but a while after reading it I had to go digging to find it again because something about it stuck with me. I love Alastor's unrepentant selfishness, and Lucifer's long-suffering mood of 'these are things I really should not be okay with but apparently I'm okay with them because I'm still here'. If you're looking for something a little softer after all the angsty cliffhangers we get in other fics (the angsty cliffhanger in this one has been resolved, thank you), then this might be for you.

#radioapple #fic recs

68 notes · View notes

pagannatural · 4 months ago

Text

2.17 Heart

- this episode can’t really be called underrated but it makes me insane in a special and specific way that needs airing

-Dean is cleaning their guns and geeking out about how cool werewolves are, how they haven’t seen one since they were kids, and how good it is to know how to handle the situation, and Sam is teasing him. This callback to their shared childhood is important.

-Dean asks Sam their next step the way a teacher asks their student because Sam is still learning hunting from Dean. Sam answers correctly, looking like he’s trying not to smile and looks down and then up at Dean. He looks like he’s flirting. He loves seeing Dean happy.

- Madison tells the brothers that the victim was the kind of guy to hit on everyone in a five mile radius after a few scotches, you know the type, and Sam at first smiles knowingly. But then he looks over at Dean, who’s smiling his fuck-me smile at Madison, and his face falls. “Yeah, I do, actually,” he says.

Dean’s interest in Madison (and other women in general) really bothers him in this moment.

- Dean tells Madison someone needs to stay with her in case the werewolf shows up. The moment she leaves the room Sam tells Dean “you go, I’ll stay” with this expression that seems very serious, not like he’s just wanting to be the one who spends time with the pretty woman.

They decide to settle this the old fashioned way which is rock-paper-scissors (ro-sham-bo). Another callback to their childhood. Sam wins because Dean always chooses scissors which is honestly fascinating to me— I would have guessed Dean would pick rock because it’s the solid strong masculine option and because Sam would choose paper, but of course Dean chooses the tool, the blades. Sam grasps Dean’s arm after and his hand lingers. Again, he does not seem to have done this out of any interest in Madison, it seems like he just doesn’t want to witness Dean with her.

-This is not the face of a man who likes this woman

It reminds me of how he acted around Sarah In Provenance. He has to perform liking her for Dean, but he never shows any signs of genuine interest. Madison even dumps a basket of delicates onto the table in front of him to fold and he scrunches up his face and moves to the couch.

- Sam observes that Madison is smart and independent and asks her why she was with a stalker, and she answers that it’s not like he introduced himself like Hi I’m possessive and controlling and I like to punch people. She also says he’s wanted by the police, and that she was too insecure to leave until she realized she could take control of her life.

Madison and Sam are set up as direct parallels. She ends up being a monster without even knowing and without intending any harm, which is what Sam fears. Also, the way she’s describing her ex-boyfriend sounds a lot like Dean: possessive, controlling, likes punching people, wanted by the police. I think Dean has a lot of very redeemable qualities and for the most part he treats Sam very kindly, but he is all those things. It’s also how Sam would describe John, who he got away from by taking control of his life. The difference is that Sam actually wants to be with Dean.

- Dean kills the first werewolf in this episode. The werewolf is dying in the street and Dean stands over him and watches him turn back into a scared and confused man right before he dies. Dean obviously doesn’t enjoy seeing a man lose his life, and it complicates his earlier excitement over hunting a werewolf. The grown-up version of this hunt isn’t fun any more.

- Dean can see how Sam cares about Madison because he relates to her, and the way he watches Sam is so tender and protective. When Madison hugs Sam, Dean watches them with such bittersweet understanding

and then excuses himself very obviously so that Sam and Madison can fuck. Which they do. Which is just wild.

Because Sam decides to have sex with the first woman since Jessica because 1) Dean tells him to and 2) he sees this woman as the version of himself that gets to live without becoming a monster

- when Sam knocks frantically on his door, Dean opens up, knowing right away something is wrong and reassuring Sam that they’ll find her. The way that Sam runs straight to Dean’s door when he’s scared and needs help and Dean is right there without another thought is very romantic tropey.

-Sam yells at Dean because Dean’s willing to kill Madison without question but unwilling to kill Sam no matter what he does including murder. Dean looks a little jostled to be confronted by this, but I think to him it’s just so clear that Sam is a special and specific category from the rest of humanity and creation that he doesn’t see or doesn’t care about the hypocrisy. Sam is the center of his universe and his entire system of values. Everyone on earth or in hell is either Sam or Not Sam. It’s funny because Sam is like this about Dean too, but he just accepts it.

-Dean explains the situation to Madison calmly and honestly. It’s the decent thing to do, and also the difficult thing. He’s not cold or numb to the work, but he is able to handle it and keep his head as long as it’s not about Sam.

-Madison asks Sam to be the one to kill her and Dean watches Sam struggle. He’s been watching Sam carefully and protectively this entire episode.

-She uses language so similar to the language Sam uses to beg Dean to kill him—asking for help, saying she wants it to be him who does it, “I’m asking you to save me.” She tries to hand Sam the gun.

Dean gets up at this point and stands behind Madison, his eyes on Sam as he moves, and slowly takes the gun out of her hands. This shifts the focus off Madison and solely onto the brothers for the remainder of the episode.

His eyes stay on Sam’s as he does this, and Sam is somehow looking up at Dean pleadingly. His romantic interest is begging him for help with tears in her eyes in what will be the last moments of her life and Sam is staring at Dean behind her.

The sexual relationship between Sam and Madison is explicitly compared to Dean and Sam’s relationship. It wasn’t necessary for the werewolf character to be a woman who Sam sleeps with—the very first woman that he is with since Jessica. She’s the stand-in for Sam in this case, and Sam is put in Dean’s shoes.

The brothers go into the other room and Dean assures Sam he doesn’t have to do this, that he’ll handle it. He wants to take care of Sam and spare him this, just like he has since they were children, but he can’t this time. Sam feels he has to because she asked him, and asks Dean for the gun.

It’s a very intentional choice that Sam won’t do this for Madison until he has to ask Dean, and that in the end it’s a conversation between the brothers that forms the emotional tension and climax of the episode. Dean did what Sam needed him to do by being the one to give him the choice: let me protect you from this or do it yourself. Before, the choice was more about Madison. Now it’s about Sam and Dean’s relationship.

- Sam looks back at Dean before he walks away, like a frightened child who needs help because he really doesn’t want to do this, but he knows it’s the right thing to do as a hunter. In doing this, Sam has played out the two things from Madison that he wants from Dean, that Dean can never give him— Dean will never let their relationship become physical, and he will never kill Sam.

The camera stays on Dean’s face as the gun goes off and the episode ends. Dean can’t save Sam from this, he can’t protect him from one of the responsibilities that comes with their lives as hunters. He’s terrified that he won’t be able to save Sam at all. The days when he could take care of Sam and shield him are over, and they both have to leave that part of their childhood behind. It’s not that Dean can’t save Sam in the end, because at the end of all of this their love for each other is what saves the world. It’s that their innocence can’t survive what’s coming. They have to grow up and face the realities of their lives. Their incestuous love for each other is one of those realities, but they aren’t there yet.

#wincest #samdean #supernatural #spn meta #sam and dean #spn 2x17 #this episode has me feral howling at the moon like one of your French girls

81 notes · View notes

italianpersonwithashippersheart · 4 months ago

Text

We Are The Series: Why I Didn't Like It

I am writing this for the 3 people on this website who completed this but didn't love it.

@automaticpenguincreation tagging you because we talked about this and I said I would. Also chatting with you is what made me want to finally say something.

Disclaimers (Please Read Them):

I am going to be critical in this post, not hateful, I don't hate this show, but critical. Engage in good faith if you can, If you can't don't.

I do not want my criticism to be dismissed saying I must not be getting it. I spend weeks making sure I got it. Read all the praise and even reblogged the occasional post because I see the value this show has for people. All I am saying is that I don't like this.

Again some of my later critics are about the choices that were made in this series. I understand that a lot of what I am about to critique was made on porpouse and is indeed part of the appeal.

I have seen maybe 1 post on tumblr being overly critical (@bengiyo post and I guess mine) I don't know where people got the impression that this show is being hated. But If you geniuly want to know why some people might have not liked this show you can read my thoughts and see for yourself.

I have watched and enjoyed stuff like this before. I am not making any moral judgement on you. Just because I don't like this doesn't mean you can't like it.

Part One: Pros

I am going to start with the good things. My honest review of this show is: It's a Mid University BL that is doing something different with the friendship and quietly subverting a couple of of classical Uni BL tropes.

I can see how that would have valued for people that watched all the Uni BL. I get that part of the appeal.

The friendships in this show are very good, they are framed as just as important if not more important then the romances. And I appriciate that. It's also one of the only two realtionships the show set up writing wise and spend any ammount of writing effort making you want to root for. Chain and Pun being the other one.

Pon being added to the cast late and them having to reshoot things were handled beautifully, you can't actually tell there was ever any issues at all and it feels like Pon was always meant to be there.

PondPhuwin story with the you must be my slave bit was handled pretty well. It certantly could have done worse. I think the story does a pretty good job writing the resolution in a satisfying manner.

I can tell that this meant a lot to people both fans and the cast and crew. All art is subjective. Just because I don't feel any value from this doesn't mean it doesn't have it.

The story is escapism, it deliberately downplays all the negative bits of life and of queer life to make a fluffy cute show. It is a similar appeal to My School President. I can't find the post that talked about that anymore, but indeed the appeal of My School President is that for the majority of the story they just get to be normal high schoolers and this is treated like a normal romance.

I have always seen the homophobia at the end of MSP not as a break in the format but a sign our boys were growing up, almost out of the protective halls of high school (in the specific bubble version of high school the story set up) and into the real world.

That is the appeal of We Are the series. Which is why in my personal opinion it's not a pure slice of life series (which wasn't ever said in the negative at least by me), it certentaly might have slice of life inspirations, and it might be using a similar structure (see @shortpplfedup post's comparing this to Hospital Playlist a show I didn't see but I have seen called Slice of Life by multiple other people). I don't personally feel like a show can be slife of life and escapism at the same time. You are 100% free to have a different opinion on this.

I am not going to give it more praise simply because the website is full of praise for this show and because those are the main points that i enjoyed.

Part Two: Cons

Let's start with the big one the plot has no throughline (I first encounter this term on this website which I highly reccomend the TLDR is: A throughline is the core "problem" of a show, the part of the structure that ties all the events together).

Exemples of throughline from a slice of life ql I watched recentely (and I am simplying to use this as an exemple). She Loves To Cook and She Loves to eat: Our main girls are alone, they go through life missing a connection, they both have needs that could be met by another person. During the course of the story they form a connect to each other and other people. They form a bond. The story ends with them moving in together, permanentely affirming that they are a unit now, and therefor will never go through life alone again. The "problem" of the start is resolved.

We Are the Series doesn't have that. And it doesn't have that by desing. Uni BL usual throughline is main relationship but they can do that here. What I would have put as the throughline is the friendships. Making the "problem" is the friendship group of long time friends going to survive Uni and various romantic relationships.

But the show doesn't that, because that would mean having arcs, and conflict and that is something the show doesn't want to do to not hurt the escapism.

It is a stylistic choice I don't like but it doesn't I understand why it wasn't made.

This is why to some people it feels like We Are the Series doesn't have a story. It is very common for story with no throughline to give that feeling to people.

Events happen, characters made decision, they talk to each other. But it doesn't feel like it has a narrative plot.

It is also why it doesn't have a classical climax. I know we clown a lot on episodes 11 and penultimate episodes of BLs and some of them are not well handled and too dramtic, or too high stakes for the resolution we are going to get. But the reason we get those it's because it's a climax, the highest point of tension in the story.

She Loves To Cook and She Loves to Eat climax is the problems with finding a place to go, because that is the highest point of tension of the throughline. We Are the series had no conflicts in the penultimate episodes because it doesn't have anything to raise, the story has no tension what so over.

Conflict and Tension don't just mean break up and fight scenes, a low key slice of life story can have both tension and conflict the exemple GL I have given has both.

As I mention before the only thing this show had any interesting in setting up and writing with any sort of effort was the friendships and ChainPun.

The reason why I feel like ChainPun were the best written ship is because all the other ships assume your engagement instead of writing reasons to make us care.

Tangent to explain what I mean: Back when playbooy was airing I exchanged a couple of mgs with @my-rose-tinted-glasses talking about not being able to get attached to any of the character. In my answear I said I started the series already attached because I was keeping up with the characters and plot and got pre-excited about it. So my investment was already high.

I think something similar is happening with We Are the series and the known ships. What I mean is most of the people watching this have already seen at least one show with almost all the main pair. We know what their deal is, what their chemestry is, what their dynamic will be like. The details might be different but we already know them. And I feel like the writing of the series relyed on this fact too much. I don't think there was any effort being made into making you root for them. Maybe PondPhuwin having to write the resolution to you must be my slave plotline. But that is it.

AouBoom get together at episode 5. We barely know anything about either of them, Fang is such a non character at the point I could maybe tell you three things about him. I am not sure how I am supposed to care about them except for the fact that it is AouBoom and I have seen and loved them in other shows and like many people desperately want them to be mains.

ChainPun was the only expeption, they had to use crumbs and a slow writing and only making them get together at the end because they are the only ship we never saw before. The only ships the writer couldn't assume you the audience already be invested in from the get go. (Also why I was at this point near the end only invested in them much like @respectthepetty)

I want to be super clear about something: I AM NOT CRITICISING YOU THE AUDIENCE FOR THIS RESPONSE. I am criticising the writing for relying on that response and not writing any extra stuff that would help with engement. God knows that I will be guilt of the same thing in other shows. I get pre-invested in shows with Cooheart or Fluke Natouch just because I love those two actors. And If I ever get my Fluke Natouch criminal fucked up character of my dreams in a modern bl that show will be my forever fave are you kidding, they could mess up everything but that character and it would be a 10 out of 10. I am not immune to investing in something just because you love a ship or the actors. I am just saying the writing could have done more to support the ships and assume that would be a small % of the viewers that needed more time and proper writing to get attached to the other ships.

Another big problem for me was something that actually happened to me before with playboyy. See at some point my the middle of Playboyy I realized that the show was never going to have the time to actually go has deep into characters and relationship dynamic they set up as much as I wanted them to. So my emotional engement wained a bit. I still had a lot of fun with it. But I wasn't as much into it as I was in the beggining emotionally speaking. With We Are the Series I realized that pretty much at the begging and got confirmation at episode 5 when AouBoom's character just got together like that. With no arc, no story, no effort. And I know that a story was there, We were told that. But I would have liked to have seen the story instead of it being told to us later.

And I know I am not the only one that found the WinnySatang resolution to be lacking and a little off. You can see @heretherebedork post x x x x about it, I agree with them.

Part Three: Conclusion

Ultimately this show is mid. It's value comes from escapism and the fact that it came out right now, amongs other more plot heavy bls and experimental genre dips. That it does something a little different then all the other Uni BL that came before. And that is actors we already know and love.

It's average for me. But it obviosly meant something for people and that matters.

I want to leave this review but again point out, critiques are not hate, a person not liking a show you like is not an attack on you or your judgement. I know it can be upsetting I have been there. I make a lot of effort to understand different POVs of shows and trying to see what the other person saw in this media, and what kind of life biases (bias as in we all have them, art is subjective and we all look at it according to who we are as people) could make them feel the way they do.

If you do like this show and have read this full post thank you, even if you disagree with me.

I want to leave you with this Italian Idiom: Il mondo è bello perchè è vario. The world is beautiful because its varied.

#we are the series #ITA Original

81 notes · View notes

wosoluver · 8 months ago

Text

Don't get sad, get even.

Part 3/3 - previous

Patri Guijarro x reader, Claudia Pina x reader

Ending II: I do like you!

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

You tried to catch up to Patri when she was leaving.

"Can we talk?" - You said following her out to the parking lot.

"About what?" - She answered with an attitude.

"Seriously?! You got the two of you suspended from next game!"

"Oh of course this was my doing!"

"Grow up! It was, your fault! You should be punishing me. Not Claudia. She's been nothing but a good friend, always."

"Yeah, you two look real good friends."

"Stop that. It was just a kiss! You and I did a lot more than that, and we were still just friends. I don't think a kiss has anything on fucking your best friend for months."

"You were with me. Why did you kiss her?"

"Excuse me? You were with someone else! You barely noticed my presence."

"Why are we even discussing this? We aren't a thing! You have no right to be jealous!"

"Your right! I read the situation wrong and that was on me. But you, you only cared about the attention I was giving out, once my attention had went to someone else. And that's on you."

"Don't say that. It's unfair."

"Is it? Admit to yourself, that was what you were after. No offense, but that's who you are! And you know that. I've watched you do this to too many girls.

I was stupid! I mixed my emotions with my pleasures."

"Maybe this should have stayed in Ibiza."

"Finally something we agree on.

I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Yes you did." - she said interrupting you.

"Fine. That night I did, only because I was hurting.

But this, was never meant to destroy our friendship.

And now look at us! You basically attacked Clau today."

"I'll apologize tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Can I go now?"

You only nodded your head. And watched her pull out of the parking lot and leave.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

To say you were frustrated was an understatement. How did you get so deep into this? How'd let yourself fall in to her so freely?

You were so blinded by the feeling of having her, that you forgot love is a two sided thing.

And here you sat on your couch. Crying your eyes out. You had managed to lose your love and your friend all at once.

And thinking about it, even if you could turn back in time, you wouldn't change a thing.

Despite what you two had said earlier, you didn't regret it.

And what you didn't know, was that she didn't either.

Well you didn't, until she showed up at your door that night.

"Patri what are you doing here?"

"I did it all wrong!" - She was crying. You could probably count in one hand the number of times you had seen her cry.

"Come on, don't just stand there." - As you pulled her into the apartment. - "Chamomile or English Breakfast?" - You asked heading straight to the kitchen to prepare her a cup of tea.

"Chamomile is fine."

And for the next ten minutes she watched you silently, preparing her the drink. It gave her time to calm down.

"Here."- You handled her the mug she would always choose to use when she was over. The fact that you took that into consideration, even in a situation like this, made her heart ache.

"Thanks.

You were right earlier. I did to you, what I had done to all the others. But this time, I did it for a different reason.

It's very hard for me to let myself trust others. I sleep around because that seems way better and more comfortable than going through another heartbreak.

But with you everything was different.

I'd trust you with my life. You're kind and intelligent and you're always there when others need somewhere to hide or someone to hold, when things get hard.

I didn't have to decide to fall in love with you or not. It just happened.

And I couldn't take the fact that for the first time I actually let myself feel something, it was with someone who was just looking for something casual.

I tried to free myself from my feelings by getting with someone else. I didn't think I could take your rejection."

"What ever made you feel like I would reject you?! I'm in love with you! And I thought you felt the same. Only to find you were with someone else."

"I should have told you how I felt instead of running from my feelings. And I apologize for hurting you. I regret it so much.

Would you ever let me make up to you?" - You saw it in her eyes. They'd always try to read you, when she was anxious for an answer.

"Yes.

But no more lying. No more hurting each other. And most importantly no more hurting Pina."

"So can I finally ask you out?"

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Liked this one better than the Claudia end. I promise a cute Clau story, to make up for it.

#woso #woso x reader #patri guijarro #patri guijarro x reader #fc barcelona femeni

98 notes · View notes

hyenafu · 15 days ago

Note

I know this might seem like a bit of a random question, but what are some criticisms of Slightly Damned you can't stand, and what are some you think are at least somewhat valid? I only ask because I do have a few problems with the comic (not really gonna go into here because I don't want to come off as too critical obviously) but I feel like some of the more noteworthy ones have been too long established to just change it altogether, and the best one can do is make something better from its foundation (which I must say, you've done a really good job at ^^)

The complaints that I think are the most unfair are by bigots who think my comic is only getting more inclusive because I'm pandering to wokeness or whatever. These people are also the most likely to misgender me and have no idea what they're talking about. They just can't stand the bare minimum of gay and are often hypocritical, using fallacies as the basis of their arguments. It's tempting to want to argue back, but when has that ever worked on the internet? I think the most valid complaint is that the pacing of the comic is too slow. Sure. Not much I can do about that one. My comic alone doesn't pay all my bills. If I focus exclusively on work, I get depressed, so I have to goof off sometimes. I'm just one person. I don't have a team. I'm doing the best I can already. Another valid complaint is that people don't like my blend of humor and drama. Sometimes readers find it inappropriate or jarring. It's valid because I recognize it as a difference of opinion and understand why they feel that way. But I don't care. I like my weird mix of goofy faces and drama. I sometimes make jokes during periods of great stress in real life. I love all the wacky faces and over-the-top cartoon action among dire circumstances in comics like One Piece and Usagi Yojimbo. Like, it's just my style, man I don't seek out unsolicited advice about my comic. Some people may think that's snobbish of me, but the truth is, very little of what you find that way is actually valuable.

"And as to those critics, she said that she’s managed to do something that might make us all better off- she doesn’t read the comment sections. In perhaps the most roundabout poignant part of the talk, she likened receiving feedback about her work as being like consuming food. She would take a pie from someone she knew and trusted but compared taking unsolicited barbs from strangers as “licking a handle on the subway.” She used to pay very close attention to that kind of critique because she felt that it somehow would make her a better creator but ultimately decided that it was only toxic." - I HAVE SEEN OLIVIA JAIMES, THE CARTOONIST BEHIND THE NEW NANCY, by Rocko Jerome (2018)

Besides the outright hateful sentiments, a lot of unsolicited criticism can be categorized as "I don't like this story because it didn't do what I wanted it to do." Which is fine. I do the same thing when I try to process stories and talk to my friends about them.

But I don't get in the author's face to tell them I think they did a bad job. At the end of the day, no matter how crap I think someone's story might be, I'm not psychic. I don't really know if they did exactly what they set out to do. For example, people have never stopped giving me crap about the death of certain characters. But their whining has only made my convictions stronger. I don't like when other stories don't take deaths seriously, with a real sense of permanence and grief that is not easily solved. To someone else, seeing that character be alive might have solved all sorts of problems they had-- but that's not my story. I've had someone tell me that the focus on Buwaro and Kieri's mushy romance is too distracting to the main story. I don't think that person knew that a large part of why I started making this comic in the first place was as a vehicle for my OTP. I also want to make said vehicle entertaining and worthwhile. If I didn't succeed for that person, that's fine. But don't tell me that half the reason I made the comic is distracting from it. What do they know about what I want? What do you really know about what the author wanted to achieve? That isn't to say that my comic is immune to scrutiny. Of course it has problems; every story has problems, depending on your perspective and the basis by which it's getting judged. I've solicited and received thoughtful criticism and helpful advice from teachers, my advisor, my friends, and from reading/watching tutorials. Some I agreed with, others I chose to ignore. Sometimes it just took a while for me to come around. I hope I never stop learning and improving. Like you said, I have to keep working with the foundation I already set. But I don't feel trapped by it; my creativity is being challenged in new ways. I have a lot of playing pieces and now I get to see what kinds of connections I can make between them with my older, more experienced (both good and bad) mind. Since Slightly Damned is a story serialized over a long period of time, a certain amount of it is made up as I go along. I do have plans and goals, of course, but I'm also discovering this world alongside my readers.

#slightly damned #sdamned #webcomic #q & a #asks

40 notes · View notes

sserpente · 1 year ago

Text

A/N: Request from anon. Fluffy skinny dipping with Loki. Tell me something better than that, I’ll wait. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2568 Warnings: skinny dipping, implied smut, fluff

The air in Asgard smelled different. Fresher. Richer. You took a deep breath, inhaling not only oxygen but also that foreign Asgardian vibe. Summer felt a hundred times more intense around here. The heat was on the verge of unbearable, the glistening water right outside the palace inviting you for a swim to cool down. The whole planet felt like an Instagram filter—like someone had turned up the contrast, the saturation and the brightness all at the same time.

“How do you cope in this heat?” you complained, fanning air to your face with your right hand. You were sat in the lower parts of the palace with Thor’s friends Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral and of course, Lady Sif.

Odin had commanded you remained under supervision at all times. You didn’t quite understand what the fuss was about—it wasn’t like a mere Midgardian could wreak havoc among this realm but then again, he was probably just traumatised from the time Thor brought an Aether-infected Jane to Asgard a few years back.

But the company wasn’t so bad, especially upon learning new things about Asgardian culture. One person was missing though. You’d hardly seen Loki since your arrival even though it had been him to promise to keep you safe.

Boom—it had been like a heartbeat, like an explosion and just like that, you had fallen in love with the God of Mischief. It had started with a crush. A purely physical attraction that made you see beyond the things he had done on Earth all those years ago. Then you had gotten to know him and witnessed his wit and sarcasm day in and out. Soon, you began to see past the cheekiness and mischief until you had discovered a vulnerable god who would die for the ones he loved, an intelligent and kind man who might not have been a superhero and leaned toward a little selfishness every now and then but a good man nonetheless.

Loki had never been evil and you were now determined to convince everyone else of that mind-set as well. Especially now that you had been brought to Asgard for your own safety.

“It’s not so bad down here. I feel sorry for Idunn and her workers. The apple orchard is a sauna at this time of the day but the work won’t do itself.”

“First of all… you have saunas on Asgard? And second of all, if this is a realm of magic, why is there any labour at all?”

Volstagg’s cheeks reddened as he fought to explain it to you. “Well, let’s just say Idunn’s apples are special. They require skilled hands to handle them.”

“Right…” With a court nod, you emptied the rest of your drink and carefully put it back on the table—like hell you would smash it to the ground and scream “Another” like Thor and his friends did.

“Where’s Loki, actually?” you asked, attempting to sound non-chalant.

“Who knows? Causing some mischief somewhere probably. I for my part am glad I don’t have to see his face.”

“He’s been nothing but kind to me so far, Volstagg.”

“Hmm…” Hogun began, “He’s like a flesh-eating plant. He lures you in and then traps you in his claws. Be careful. We have known Loki for a lot longer than you.”

“Maybe you guys should stop giving him reasons to stab you in the back. Think about that.” Checkmate. That shut them up for a good minute.

You sighed. Well, in the end, you’d likely have a lot more work to do for them to accept the cheeky God of Mischief for who he was and why he behaved the way he did, it seemed.

“If you say so… I’m gonna go find him.”

“You can’t wander through the palace alone.”

You chuckled. “Watch me. I know where Loki’s chambers are. And I promise to scream if I’m getting murdered.”

“You shouldn’t joke about things like that,” Hogun insisted.

“I’m trapped on a different planet surrounded by gods. If I don’t joke about it, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“I am still going to escort you.”

You rolled your eyes. Always obey Odin. “Fine.” Hogun wasn’t very talkative, at least.

It was a lot cooler in the palace—but then again, sacrificing a wonderful day that you could spend swimming and tanning and exploring to hide within some palace walls wasn’t all that appealing.

“Loki? Are you there?” Hogun was waiting around the corner with his hands clasped behind his back when you knocked.

Silence. You cleared your throat. “Loki, your hearing is a thousand times better than mine, I know you can hear me.”

A pleasant shiver ran down your spine when you heard a dark chuckle behind the door. A sliver of magic tore through the heavy wood of his door and it swung open, revealing him sitting in the shade on his bed with a book on his lap.

You blinked. He was dressed so casually. Bare feet, a green and soft-looking shirt with sleeves ending right below his elbows and wide black trousers reminding you of a comfy pyjama. Summing up, he looked hot.

“What are you doing here?” He was practically purring when he spoke your name, pulling a pleasant shiver from you. Something told you that Loki knew you were absolutely infatuated with him and boy, was he having fun with it. You sighed, letting it go for now. It was too hot to complain.

“I want to go swimming.”

“You want to go swimming?” Loki frowned at his book as if you’d suggested going rollerblading on the Bifrost bridge. Although… that actually sounded like a fun idea as well.

“Yes, Loki. It’s summer, it’s hot and I am melting. You’re a Frost Giant, how on Earth do you cope?”

“By staying inside where it’s cool, reading and most importantly, keeping my mouth shut.”

You grunted, closing the door behind you. “I’m gonna pretend like I was unable to take the hint to leave you alone. What are you reading?”

This time, it was Loki who sighed.

“Why don’t you ask Thor and his foolish friends? Are they giving you trouble?” he asked instead of responding to your question.

“No. Just… Because I want to spend time with you. And because they’re boring, obeying every single word the oh-so-allmighty-Odin says.” You threw your hands to demonstrate how ridiculous you found the whole situation.

Finally, Loki looked up from his book, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “What makes you think that I won’t?”

“Please. You are the God of Mischief. And rules are made to be broken, right? You remember that pretty lagoon west of the Bifrost Bridge that you told me about? The one with the cave? I want to go there. Please, Loki. Pack your book and let’s go. If I’m on a different planet, at least I want to explore it a little.”

Loki considered you for a moment, almost as if he was trying to figure out whether you were just mocking him. Then, finally, he shut his book and elegantly stood from the bed. “Very well. Let’s go.”

His smile was genuine—it had to be. His book vanished into thin air the very moment his door swung open again.

“Quick. Before Hogun realises we are not really headed to the kitchens for a cool drink.”

Loki escorted you through one of the servants’ exits to avoid the guards and more importantly, Thor and his friends. The earthy path was steep as you followed him down further and further away from the palace until you reached the shore and the ground to your feet turned into warm sand.

A small boat was swaying in the water, tied to a rock in the sand with a thick rope. Loki, however, did not make a move toward it. Instead, he offered you his hand. Intrigued, you took it. Next thing you know, he transformed into an eagle, his talons gripping your hand tightly.

You cheered when you took off and he flew across the water towards the lagoon, your naked toes grazing the cool ocean water in the process. The landing, a few minutes later, was smooth and then, just like that, Loki’s eagle aspect disappeared again.

“That was incredible! Can you turn me into an eagle as well?”

“Potentially. It takes years to master transfiguration like this. Your body would have to adjust to the new form and you would have to learn how to fly. If I transformed you now, you would quite possibly drown.”

“Right.” You turned around, taking in your new surroundings. The lagoon was stunning. It looked like the inside of a volcano, a hollowed-out rock with a pond with the clearest sea water you had ever seen in the middle. Vines, trees, and flowers all grew around it, spreading a lovely scent, and the small cave at the opposite end looked like the perfect spot for camping. The waterfall was by far the best part of it all though. It was gushing and loud, drowning out all noise from the outside and reverberating within the lagoon.

“This is beautiful. How come no one ever comes here?”

“Well… Asgardians are not too keen on swimming. Most of them never even learn it unless they’re training to fight battles. It is considered impure and in some cases, disrespectful to swim in open waters.”

Loki waved his hand, letting a dark green picnic blanket appear in the sand that mixed with green grass where you stood. Along with it, he conjured up a golden plate full of grapes, apple slices, strawberries and other fruit you didn’t recognise. He sat down on it with his book in hand.

It was then you realised you didn’t actually have any swimwear.

“What? Why is that?”

“Ah, well, you see, according to our lore, the giant Ymir was slain so the worlds could be built. His brains became the clouds, his bones became the mountains and his blood became the oceans.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m about to swim in someone’s blood?”

Loki chuckled. “Something like that.”

You suppressed a grin. Should you? It was only the two of you here after all. And what sent a clearer signal for “I like you, I’m attracted to you and I want to have sex with you” than skinny dipping? You shrugged your shoulders. You were on a different planet. Things couldn’t exactly get any crazier from here.

You pulled off your shirt and then peeled yourself out of your shorts. Your bra came off first after that. With your back turned to Loki, you could still practically feel his blue eyes boring into you. By the time you stepped out of your knickers and revealed your arse to him, he sucked in air so loudly you could even hear it over the waterfall.

Unceremoniously and gathering all of your swimming training from your school days, you dived head-first into the clear water as gracefully as you could muster. The water was divine. It was cool and salty enough for you to float without too much effort and the little fish you saw swimming past you didn’t even seem to be scared of you. You’d have to ask Loki for some fish food for them.

“I could have conjured you some swimwear, you know.” His blue eyes were glued to you. You grinned, swimming in his direction. The clear water did very little to conceal you and it was even clearer that the God of Mischief was having a hard time not to look down.

“And where would have been the fun in that? What are you doing, come in! It’s lovely! I dare you,” you added. “Oh no, whatever will all those fancy royals at the palace say if they find out one of their princes is skinny dipping with a peasant?” Dramatically, you brought the back of your hand to your forehead and then disappeared underwater for a moment.

When you emerged, Loki was standing and taking off his clothes. Yes.

“Last time I caused an uproar, I was in the middle of a feeble attempt at taking over Midgard. They’ll be relieved to hear I have resorted to less scandalous activities.”

Seeing Loki shirtless was quite possibly the highlight of your entire day. But he didn’t give you much time to drool over his muscly pale chest and those strong arms. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. When those comfy trousers came off, he was naked and damn, was he glorious even in a flaccid state. You didn’t even bother pretending not to stare.

Loki smirked and then, much more gracefully than you, dived into the pond. He looked downright gorgeous with wet hair when he emerged only a few inches away from you, so much so that you almost forgot to keep yourself afloat.

“Cat got your tongue? You aren’t going to back out now, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Loki.” For a split second, playing Marco Polo with him crossed your mind but now that you had him naked in the clear water, you could think of more… adult activities.

“Can I ask you something?” You just needed some confirmation first. He’d promised to keep you safe but did that mean he reciprocated your feelings? Not necessarily, right?

Loki raised his eyebrows at you—in a gentle, teasing manner this time.

“Why did you agree to come here with me? I mean… the others… they’d never let me be alone with you. If they knew, they’d drag me out by the hair. Or you, whoever they manage to grab first. I guess… after everything that happened between you and the entire planet Earth, I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with a human beyond a genuine promise to make up for the past.”

Loki’s face fell.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head. “You did not. Let’s just say I forgot for a moment that you are mortal.”

Oh. “Is that bad?”

“I will have outlived you in a matter of decades. So yes. That is bad, pet.” Pet. You sincerely hoped he wasn’t able to hear the moan that escaped your lips. “I am not a villain. And it took a lot of convincing to make me realise that. So why would I not? I have no reason to meet you with hostility if you don’t either.”

You smiled at him. “That’s what I told them today, you know? That you wouldn’t have betrayed them if they hadn’t given you a reason to do so. And… That just means we’ve gotta make use of the time that we have even more, no?”

With that, you took the leap. You leaned forward, clung to him like a monkey and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your naked skin against his felt heavenly, even more so underwater. You kissed him as if your life depended on it, teeth clashing, tongues battling… your entire being lost itself in Loki, how good he tasted and how skilled of a kisser he was.

When you broke apart, you were both out of breath and a little surprised by what had just happened. Your eyes fell on his swollen lips.

“Admit it,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Admit it. You like me.”

Loki chuckled. “I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t, pet.”

A/N: Come say hello on my blog for more Imagines and my novels! ♥

446 notes · View notes

gayhoediaz · 7 months ago

Note

hello nie 👋

what is buck and tommy's first major argument about + how does it end 🎤

ohhhh jack this is such a good question!! ♡

i had to sit back and think a little bit, but what i came up with us that i think it would honestly just come down to both of them having a bad day and i think they deal with those in completely different ways. at this point, i think they have been together in a serious relationship for a decent amount of time - maybe six months or so? and i think they become very serious very quickly so six months is certainly long enough that they’re starting to feel more comfortable that the other person isn’t going anywhere, and you know how sometimes you lash out at the person you know is going to stay? yeah.

because of his childhood, i headcanon tommy as someone who finds solace in solitude, and while i think there are certainly times where he craves affection and company, i think it’s just as common that he just. needs to be alone. i think he knows that if he doesn’t get that alone time, his frustration is going to get directed at people who haven’t done anything to deserve it, and he’s certainly responsible enough to handle that and prevent it.

now, buck? buck is someone who we know to seek comfort in the people he loves. we have seen him go to eddie, to maddie, to hen, to bobby, and so on - he is just someone who needs to talk, and to feel embraced and listened to, and loved.

and tommy would absolutely be his first choice at this point - not only because he’s his boyfriend, but because tommy is tommy. he’s older, and he’s smart, and he’s kind, and he’s caring, and he always says what buck needs to hear. he never makes buck feel as if he’s too much, or too needy.

never.

until.

their awful, terrible, nightmarish days happen to fall on the same day.

i don’t think either of them are awful to each other, there’s absolutely no name calling, or cursing each other out, but they just kind of… clash. i think buck really wants to just go home and sit on the couch with tommy and watch a movie (love actually is just fine because he loves watching tommy watch it) and it’s not that tommy doesn’t want that, he just needs to be alone first.

and i think this would be perfectly fine if they communicated - but they don’t. i don’t think they have the energy to do that, so it just kind of ends up being a mess where buck misses him and wants him to come over, and feels a little blown off (i don’t think tommy ghosts him but maybe his texts are a little more chilly than they usually are) while tommy feels frustrated because - he’ll be there in a few hours, if evan can just calm down and leave him alone, he’ll be fine and he’ll hold him because he needs that too, but just. not right now. (again, i think tommy isn’t as cold as buck feels he is, and buck isn’t nearly as clingy as tommy feels, i think it’s just completely exaggerated in their own heads because they’re already upset for reasons that don’t have anything to do with each other.)

this is just the pre-argument, though. i think the real argument comes later, when tommy comes over to the loft (and at this point, he’s calmed down, he’s fine, he just wants to have a good night with his boyfriend and listen to him talk about his bad day, because now he’s been alone for a while so he has the energy to do so.) and he realizes that there is still friction between them - because here’s the thing:

we have only really seen tommy from buck’s pov this go-around, and that’s why he feels so… perfect? in a lot of ways? and again, i don’t think that buck is in any way upset that tommy couldn’t come over the second he needed him - he’s a grown man, he’s fine - but i think it’s the way that he felt tommy kind of blowing him off, and not communicating. i think it makes him feel annoyed and ignored (valid) and i think it kind of drags tommy down from this pedestal he has had him on?

in the end, i think tommy snaps and i think that’s exactly what he says - something along the lines of “i’m not perfect” etc etc. and i think they argue for a while, but they ultimately end up working things out that very night. i think tommy genuinely apologizes, and so does buck - i think buck reluctantly confesses that although he has grown a lot, and worked on himself, and become more confident, he does still ultimately have this fear of being too much, and i think tommy’s face just. softens, and he tells him that he never wants him to feel that way, and that he wasn’t and would never be annoyed with buck wanting or needing him around - it was just… everything else, and terrible timing, and bad communication. and then i think tommy explains some things about his childhood that helps buck understand why he may need to be alone sometimes, and how that’s how he finds comfort and makes peace with a bad day.

in the end, they ultimately know and understand each other so much better, and they make a vow to just. communicate. and they’re falling even deeper in love with each other.

#nie answers 💕#mutuals 🏷️#jack 🎑#niesmeta

91 notes · View notes

puddle-nerd · 11 months ago

Text

Trust in Me

Summary: You finally get the reason out of your boyfriend, Lo’ak, why he’s put a stop to anything past second base. (Lo’ak/Female Human Reader)

Prompt #9 for Avatar12DaysofKinkmas2023.

Story Tags: No Use of Y/N, Xenophilia (Alien Genitalia), Female Reader, Human Reader, Aged Up Characters, Everyone is Legal, Yes they’re both eighteen+!, Friends to Lovers, Interspecies Relationship(s), Size Difference, Na’vi Biology, Hand Jobs, Begging

Author’s Notes: So, if anyone’s read my stories before, I usually wrote the male Avatars and Na’vi as having similar parts as humans (i.e. d!ck and ball$). This challenge in particular was for actually describing alien genitalia so I challenged myself… and used Bad Dragon as an idea base. If anyone’s interested, I used Sleipnir and (very, very loosely) Ky’el to write out my description, if you want some visuals – heavy on the Sleipnir – and threw in a knot for good measure.

Na’vi Translation:

Tweng — loincloth

Yawntu – loved one | lover | beloved person

AO3 Link

“I think we should stop.”

It was the same thing every single time.

You and Lo’ak had been friends since your twin brother had dragged you out into the Omatikayan forests and had you befriended the Sully children. Though, as a teenager, you technically got along more with Kiri, Lo’ak had always had a special place in your heart. When it came out that you mutually had a crush on the other, you had officially started dating. And it had been going good for the last seven and a half months but now in the last eleven days, any time you tried to do more than just some kissing or some light upper body groping, your boyfriend, your sweet, wonderful, usually enthusiastic boyfriend would suddenly put a stop to anything and everything sexual. He would draw away from you or literally pick you up and move you off of him since he was nearly twice the size of you. And the constant rejections were beginning to wound your pride.

“Do you… do you not… want me?” you asked quietly, drawing away from Lo’ak and looking up at him with distressed eyes.

The younger Sully son, still all long gangly limbs even at eighteen-years-old, jerked, his ears and tail twitching in alarm. “No, Mamas,” he immediately exploded, his voice rising high in offense. “No, I want you. Trust me. I do. A lot. I just…” You leaned forward and kneeled between his thighs, cupping his angular jaw in your hands which looked so much smaller when touching his beautiful sapphire skin. “I’ve seen your brother’s… stuff… and I don’t… I look… I look different. Alien… Weird… Freaky…”

You blinked and tried not to smile in relief.

It wasn’t you.

You hadn’t done anything wrong.

He was just worried.

“Lo,” you murmured softly, trying to contain you bemused grin, “I kind of figured you’d look a little different than anyone human.” His cheeks went a little purple in a blush and you leaned in kissing just above the pink tip of his nose. “How about…” you suggested softly, lifting the mask hanging around his collarbones, “you let me be the judge of what I can handle? Hmmm? I really want to see you, Lo’ak.” You leaned in, kissing the underside of his jaw, adding, “I really want to touch you.” He sighed behind the plastic as he sucked in carbon rich air and you moved to kiss up beneath his ear, one of his beaded braids resting against your temple. “I really want to pleasure you.” He groaned as you nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck. “Do you trust me?”

He nodded, sighing, “You know I do, Mamas.”

“Then trust me now,” you begged him softly, pulling back and meeting his golden gaze with your eyes. “Please?”

Lo’ak smirked slightly and leaned in, kissing you once more. “Okay, baby, you win,” he replied.

The Na’vi sat back on your bed, making himself as comfortable as possible as he slowly, carefully undid his tewng, pulling it off and revealing his naked body to your gaze. You gazed curiously down at a slit on his pelvis where a human’s cock would be with a slight bulge on either side of the opening. Carefully, you reached out and caressed the fleshy bulge and finding it soft, like a hairless human scrotum would be, watching your boyfriend shiver, “Does it hurt?”

“No, no,” he quickly reassured you. “Feels good. And the more… the more I get aroused, the more I’ll come out.”

You nodded, adding, “It’s probably safer that way – more protected.” He nodded, remembering the few times Spider had gotten hurt between the legs during his growing years and had had to stop and recover. “Can I touch you like this?” You proceeded to gently run your finger along the slit, feeling a slight slickness that you would find on yourself when you decided to indulge in self-gratification. Your boyfriend hissed sharply and you looked up, to make sure it wasn’t a pain noise. Instead, you found him staring at you with pupils blown wide in his golden orbs, his jaw clenched in pleasure. “Good?” you asked, just for confirmation. He nodded instantly, tail twitching rapidly, ears swiveled towards you as he shifted his legs wider in encouragement. You lowered your gaze and touched him a little firmer.

A moan bubbled out of his pink lips at that and his slit began to open, revealing something pink within.

“That’s… that’s my cock, yawntu,” Lo’ak whimpered, his legs tensing slightly, “at least the tip of it. Gently… gently coax it out.” He sighed as you pressed your fingers into the top and bottom edges of his slit and caressed the crown, finding little nubs all over the pink head. He grunted as he began to slide out into the open blossoming under your careful strokes, his shaft slowly filling with blood as you ignited his lust with your tender ministrations. “Oh, fuck… Mamas, just like that.” You gulped as he continued to slide further and further from his sheath and thicken, revealing noticeable ridges decorating the underside of his length. And towards the base of his cock was a ring of flesh, slightly thicker with more of those little nubs. He must have noticed you staring because he added, “Neteyam’s mentioned it’s a knot, meant to make sure my mate will keep my seed inside longer and heighten the chance of pregnancy.”

You admitted, “I might… not… be able to take that, Lo. You’re already��really thick.” He nodded, panting. He took another breath from his mask. “Can I keep touching you?” you asked.

Lo’ak nodded, murmuring, “Yes, please. You’re making me feel so good already.”

You beamed to yourself and settled your gaze back on him and barely managed to wrap your fingers around the tip. His cock seemed to emit its own lubrication so it made stroking your hand down to the base easier, though with how thick it got, well, it was going to take your body some training to get it to fit inside of you. And you repeated the movement.

Down… and up…

Down and up.

“Oh, baby,” Lo’ak whined, beginning to shift his hips into your touch, little aborted jerks of his pelvis as if he was fighting not to thrust into you like he wanted to do. “Please, please… can you… can you grip it harder? Please?” he begged. You complied, meeting his half-lidded gaze. “Just a little tighter. Oh, yes, yawntu, yes, j-just like that.” Your boyfriend clenched his jaw and hissed through his sharp teeth. You squeezed a bit more as you neared the base of him and he let out a cross between a rumbling growl and a whine causing wetness to pool between your bare thighs. “Oh, baby. Yes. Please, please, please.” An idea came to you and you shifted your weight to straddle his calf, the ridge of his bone giving you enough stimulation to grind against him and feel sparks of pleasure from each jolt of your hips. “Oh fuck, Mamas! Are you fucking yourself on my leg?”

You flushed but didn’t stop your hands or your panty covered pelvis. “Maybe,” you admitted, grinding down onto him harder.

Lo’ak’s tail lashed in arousal. “Fuck, that’s so hot,” he whined.

With renewed determination, you moved your hands even quicker, trying to make sure to keep squeezing him as his cock thickened further. Your slick leaked out of you and onto his shin through the now drenched fabric and made your movements even easier, if possible. You wanted to cum but you wanted to make this good for your boyfriend, too. And at this point, the tip of his cock was beginning to drip with pre-cum, a lightly blue bioluminescent glow emitting from the slick.

“So close, baby, please,” Lo’ak nearly sobbed, fucking himself up into your hands earnestly. You grabbed onto the swelling knot with one hand and stroked the ribbed underside of his shaft to the best of your ability with the other, squeezing as hard as you could.

That seemed to do the trick.

Lo’ak came with a loud, drawn-out grunt, throwing his head back into the wall as glowing blue cum spurted out of him, his knot swelling firmer and the ridges beneath flaring as if to assist locking his cock into place. Splatters of the stuff landed everywhere, your hands, your bedding, his thighs, your hair, his lower stomach, your face… At least it smelled pleasant. He sighed, bringing the mask up to his face once more and breathing deeply, trying to catch his breath and grinned down at you smugly.

“That’s even hotter,” he chuckled. “You’re gonna smell like me for days.”

You pouted up at him. “My turn? I didn’t finish.”

“Yeah, yawntu, definitely your turn.”

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 22 December 2023

Word Count: 1,470

AO3 Link

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar smut #human reader #loak #lo'ak #loak sully #lo'ak sully #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar loak #avatar lo'ak #loak smut #lo'ak smut #loak x reader #lo'ak x reader

185 notes · View notes