#you may be wondering: why does she only have women characters?

[ak319]

Lovesick A.M x f!reader

--★ Rose Hats and Rough Hearts

(AN: So, a fic idea I have serves as an inspo for this one-shot. The reader is a morally gray character and doesn't like being part of the gang. Anyway, enjoy reading!.) Syno: When her sharp tongue turns on Dutch, Arthur wonders if she’s gone too far, or if he’s fallen too deep. Warnings/MDNI: Age gap (you are in early 20's and Arthur is 30-31), pining, angst, fluff. ✰ -11k.

“Well, wasn’t that easy? Been a long time since I enjoyed a robbery like that,” Hosea chuckled, tugging down his bandana.

Arthur glanced at the bag tied to the horse, heavy with valuables, and gave a small nod. “Definitely.”

The two rode at a leisurely pace, the quiet night stretching around them like a blanket, the stars casting a soft glow over the landscape. Arthur’s eyes drifted as they moved, catching on a patch of bushes nearby.

Roses.

Even in the faint starlight, their delicate shapes stood out, and an idea bloomed in his mind.

“Uh, Hosea,” Arthur started, breaking the calm, “I’ve got an errand to run.”

“An errand? At this time of night?” Hosea raised a brow, his tone lightly scolding. “You oughta rest now, son. You’ve earned it.”

“No, no,” Arthur replied quickly, waving it off. “Just need to head into town for a bit. Won’t be long, don’t you worry.”

Hosea paused for a moment, then gave a knowing smile and nodded. “Alright, if you say so. Just don’t go gettin’ yourself into trouble.”

He handed Hosea the score and with a final farewell, the two parted ways, Arthur veering off towards the town, his thoughts already on the next step of his plan.

Arthur arrived at the shop and dismounted, but instead of heading inside, he lingered by his horse, running a hand over the animal’s neck. Was this even a good idea? Why was it all so damn complicated?

There’s no harm in buying something, right? Just a harmless gesture. He could figure out what to do with it later... later.

For days now, it had been the same cycle.

Don’t think about her. Just don’t.

There’s no harm in it, right?

And yet he does.

Don’t look at her, it’s strange. Keep your distance.

A few stolen glances don’t mean anything when she’s far away, right?

And yet he does.

Don’t buy her a gift. What kind of fool even does that? Who is he to her, anyway?

And here he is, standing outside the shop, heart pounding like a damn fool, a love fool.

“Yes, sir? How may I help you? By the way, there’s a 5% discount on the winter stock. Perhaps you’d like to try the waistcoats?”

Arthur scratched the back of his neck, his eyes drifting around the shop. Was he in the right place? He scanned the shelves and displays until his gaze landed on the wall.

Yes, there it was. The item he’d noticed before.

“Can you show me that hat?”

The shopkeeper immediately retrieved it with a practiced hand and held it out with a smile. “Our latest and most popular piece, sir. Only $22.”

Arthur took the hat, turning it over in his hands. The black leather gleamed, unscathed and pristine, a far cry from his well-worn one. His eyes lingered on the rose corsage affixed to the middle, subtle but striking.

He stepped toward the mirror, setting the hat on his head, and studied his reflection. It was a fine hat

“Goes perfectly with your outfit, sir,” the shopkeeper remarked, his voice warm with flattery.

Arthur’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it quickly faded as he turned back to the shelves. “I saw a scarf, too. The one with the, uh... rose pattern.”

“Oh, the women’s one! Let me fetch it for you.”

The shopkeeper moved swiftly, his hands deftly retrieving the scarf. He prattled on about its fine quality and craftsmanship, but Arthur barely registered the words. They flew past him like horses leaping over a fence.

His thoughts were elsewhere, on you. On how the scarf would look wrapped around your neck, the way it might frame your face. The image was enough to push him to hand over the dollar bills for both items, not even noticing he’d given more than what was asked.

The shopkeeper’s voice called out behind him, but Arthur had already turned, mounting his Irish Draught, Clover, and riding off without a second glance.

He’d be wearing the rose hat, and you’d be wearing the scarf. The thought sat heavy in his chest, a strange mix of warmth and unease. Was he really going to give it to you now?

The wind tugged at his coat, but it couldn’t scatter the doubts and questions circling his mind. Was this... a confession?

Would you, confounding as you were, with your quicksilver moods and quiet distance, accept anything from him? You, who rarely spared him more than a glance, choosing instead to linger with the girls, Molly especially.

It ate at him sometimes, the way you seemed so unreachable. Always just out of his grasp, moving through the camp like a wisp of smoke, untouchable and wholly your own. And yet, he couldn’t stop watching. Couldn’t stop wanting.

You didn’t belong here, not like him, at least. You carried yourself with an air of defiance, tethered to the camp not by loyalty but necessity. A reluctant, bitter presence that had no reason to look twice at someone as rooted in this life as he was.

He saw the way you didn’t fit, the way you wanted to leave. And maybe that’s why the thought of you wearing the scarf--his scarf now--stirred something fierce inside him. The idea that, for once, he might give you something that tethered you to him, however briefly. Better than being tied to someone else. God, you have made him so selfish.

He clenched the scarf tighter, his jaw set. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it was a start.

He didn’t know much about you, except years ago when one day he came to the camp and discovered that Hosea and Bessie had found somewhere, taken you in, and raised you as their own as they always wanted a child. Nobody in the camp knew where they found you except perhaps Dutch but it was never told properly and he didn't pry much too, no one really did. Everything had been fine-peaceful, even, until Bessie passed.

After that, you’d wanted out. To leave the camp, carve out a life of your own, away from the shadow of the gang. But Hosea couldn’t let you go. He was your father, after all, the one who had protected you, shielding you from the blood and grime of their world just as Bessie had wished for.

And then there was himself whose hands were drenched in blood.

All of this screamed doom. Yet, he was doomed... doomed by his stupid feelings and that desperate longing to have someone to call his own, to have someone waiting for him. A foolish wish, considering the life he’d led, the blood he’d spilled, and the world he was tied to.

He slowed the stallion, the weight of bubbling anxiety and frustration pressing down on him. God, it was all a mess. Even if he could manage to stop thinking for a while, to quiet the storm in his head... when he'd return to the camp and see you again, just going about your business, sulking in some corner after an argument, or throwing those sharp, witty remarks, especially at Pearson as you cooked, that pull, that ache, would come rushing back.

Curiosity was the root of it all. He just wanted to know. Why? Why were you like this? Was it because of Molly, how she’d twisted your heart with her bitterness, making you turn your back on Dutch and the rest of the gang? Or did you simply not care at all about any of them?

He huffed at the thought of the stew you probably made, not out of love, but out of duty, or maybe a touch of malice. If it tasted so good, made with nothing but spite, he couldn’t help but wonder how much better it would be if you made it with love.

❀˖°

With a final pat to Clover’s neck, Arthur made his way back to camp, greeting the men as he passed. But there was something off, a silence hanging heavier than usual. He made his way toward Dutch, figuring he might have some thoughts on the score with Hosea.

"Dutch?"

The older man turned his head slightly, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, his gaze fixed on the lake.

"Arthur."

Before Arthur could speak, Dutch continued, his tone slow, almost contemplative. "You know we’re a family, right? That everything we do is for each other, not just for ourselves..."

"Of course, Dutch," Arthur replied, trying to understand where this was coming from.

Dutch chuckled softly, the sound more gravel than humor, before crushing the cigar underfoot with a casual motion. "Some people, immature people, just can't seem to understand that."

With that, Dutch turned and walked back to his tent, leaving Arthur standing there.

"Is... something the matter?" Arthur asked, his voice laced with curiosity and concern.

"Thing? No, someone is the matter." Dutch’s words were sharp, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at Arthur.

Arthur gave him an impatient look, silently urging him to get to the point. This wasn’t how he’d planned to spend the evening. Not at all. He’d been hoping to retreat to his tent, to let his mind drift into thoughts of you, to finally sit and think about the gift he’d picked out for you, wondering if you'd even notice if you'd even like it. He could already picture himself, the soft scarf fabric between his fingers, tracing the rose pattern as his thoughts wandered, imagining what it would feel like to wrap it around your neck... his gift for you.

Dutch exhaled sharply, clearly agitated. "Hosea has let her get away with too much. You know what she did? When Hosea returned to drop off the share from your little endeavour, she-" He cut himself off with a frustrated growl. "She thought I wasn’t here. She came charging out, and started an argument, telling him he was doing the wrong thing--the wrong thing! Can you believe that?"

Dutch shook his head in disbelief. "She actually had the nerve to say that, Arthur. And that instead of doing this--helping us all--he should be out saving for them both and getting away from this life." He paused, his chest rising with each breath. "I swear, Arthur... turning one of my most trusted men, a friend, against me? Over some damn bills? But Hosea... being Hosea...what does he do? Runs out of camp to bring her back."

"So what did you suggest?!" Hosea’s voice cut through the tension as he entered the tent, his eyes flashing with frustration. "Let my daughter go out in the wild alone? At night? How could you do that, say 'get lost' just like that? Knowing she will take it seriously? She grew up right in front of you!"

Dutch’s face tightened at Hosea’s outburst, his anger simmering. "Oh, so it hurt her ego, huh?! Like I care. For me , nothing’s worse than a selfish, disloyal piece of trash that you just had to take in because-"

"Enough! No!" Hosea snapped, his voice sharp as a whip. "Don’t you dare bring that up."

With a heavy sigh, Hosea turned on his heel, walking away from the confrontation, leaving Dutch to seethe in silence.

Dutch watched him go, muttering under his breath, "Take those damn dollars you bestowed on us, Hosea, and gift her a house, for all I care! Fine by my ass!"

Arthur’s mind was a tangled mess, unable to process the whirlwind of events. So much had happened, so many emotions he could hardly keep up. Confusion clouded his mind, frustration clawed at his chest, exhaustion weighed down on his bones, and fury burned in his gut. But none of it made sense. He couldn't even figure out who--or what--his anger was really directed at.

Was it you? Was it your reckless, thoughtless actions that set this all in motion? Or was it Dutch's words and how casually he was ready to kick a girl out, kick you out, just like that?

It was at both.

It was both, but more than anything, it was you. Because you’d started it, hadn’t you? You always had a problem with Dutch’s authority, even when you kept your sweet little mouth shut. It was in your eyes, those eyes. The eyes he could never get enough of, the ones he craved to meet his own. If only for a second. A second where the same longing, the same hunger for something more, reflected back at him.

But instead, there you were. Acting like everything was just... nothing. Like none of it mattered. Like he didn’t matter. You went out there, reckless, careless, as if you could just walk away from everything. From him. How fucking could you? What if it had gotten worse and someone just decided to harm you in the camp and even Hosea couldn't do anything-

"Arthur?"

"U-Um, yes?"

Dutch’s sharp gaze fixed on him, deliberate and piercing. He let the silence stretch just long enough to unsettle, his expression unreadable. "What do you think? Hm?"

"About...what happened? I--it’s... yeah, she shouldn’t have said that," Arthur muttered, the words clumsy and heavy on his tongue.

Dutch hummed, a slow and pointed sound, as though weighing Arthur’s response and finding it just barely acceptable. Arthur didn’t wait for more. He muttered a farewell and slipped out of the tent, the cool air doing little to clear the haze in his mind.

His eyes found Hosea almost immediately. The old man was sitting on his bedroll, his posture stiff and guarded. His eyes screamed of hurt, Dutch's words had affected him deeply. After some seconds his eyes would flicker at your tent. The sight made Arthur’s chest ache. Hosea’s protectiveness was undeniable.

Because no matter how much Hosea wanted to protect you, Arthur wanted something deeper, something more selfish.

What the hell am I even thinking? he chastised himself, shaking his head. She’s not my responsibility. She’s not mine.

He wanted to say something to Hosea, to offer comfort or at least commiseration, but his feet wouldn’t move. Instead, he turned away, retreating to his own tent with a heavy sigh. Once inside, he shut the flaps, placed his hat on the table, and dropped onto the cot with a grunt of annoyance.

Reaching for the scarf, Arthur held it above him, the dim light tracing over its soft, silken material. He let it graze his face, the faint scent of the shop lingering on it, but it was his mind that did the real work. He imagined the fabric tangled in your hair, how it would feel wrapped around you as he held you close. He could almost feel the tickle of those strands against his skin, his breath hot against the side of your neck.

The thought of having you here, in his arms, that close, his hands gripping you, pulling you to him, ignited something fierce inside him. It wasn’t just the touch. It was the idea that you could be his, fully, if only you’d let him. He clenched the scarf tighter, frustration and something darker simmering in his chest.

With that vision playing in his mind, he let the scarf fall, draping it across his face and chest, the weight of it somehow both comforting and unbearable.

Lying there in the dark, his lips brushed over the fabric absently, and a bitter smile tugged at his lips. It was maddening, the way you consumed his thoughts without even trying. Even now, with frustration still simmering under his skin, all he wanted was to see you, to watch your expression, even if it meant enduring one of your scowls.

You little menace, I swear one of these days I might just lose my patience.

But you didn’t care, did you? You’d stormed out, reckless and fiery, with no thought of him or anyone, not even yourself. And here he was, lying alone, haunted by the feeling of silk and the ghost of a life he’d never have. With a frustrated grunt, Arthur shifted onto his side, clutching it closer, the tension in his body growing. He couldn't help but think if he had been here earlier, he would have tied you to him, not out of malice, but out of desperate, aching need. The kind of need that he couldn’t push down, no matter how much he tried. The kind that made him crave something from you that you didn’t even know you had to give. Something more. Something that would finally make you stay.

Sleep wouldn’t come easily.

He wanted you to feel it, to bear the same punishment he carried every night. To know what it was like to lie awake, tormented by the thought of someone you couldn’t have, unable to chase the fleeting peace of sleep because they haunted you in ways you couldn’t name. He wanted you to understand how it felt to be unraveled by longing, to have your very being tethered to someone who wouldn’t even look your way.

But then...what was he even saying?

Why did he keep forgetting the truth? That you didn’t deserve his anger, his silent pleas for recognition. That the fault wasn’t yours for not seeing him, no, it was his for daring to want you in the first place. Of course, you wouldn’t ever look at him that way. He was older, too far removed from your world, your interests, your life. And he knew, deep down, that you wouldn’t ever imagine, not in a thousand years, that someone like him could ever be interested in you. Even he could admit it, this was all stupid, unexpected, and nothing more than a fantasy.

And still, knowing this, he couldn’t stop himself. The heart never makes sense, does it? It doesn’t listen to reason or its owner, dragging you where it pleases, no matter the cost. Even he, a man who prided himself on control, had been reduced to a mere servant of its whims.

His fingers curled around the scarf as if it could somehow hold the pieces of him together. As if its softness could soothe the fire that burned inside him, one that you had lit and would never know.

Meanwhile, you lay in bed, staring at the worn canvas of the tent above. You weren’t leaving this tent. Not now. Not later. Not for anyone. They could all be damned for all you cared, it had all been damned ever since your mother died.

She was your anchor, the one thing tethering you to any sense of stability. And the moment she was gone, the world had cracked open, spilling truths you’d long suspected but never wanted confirmed. You weren’t really theirs. You weren’t their daughter.

Hosea refused to tell you why or how you ended up here, tucked into the folds of their chaos. But the truth was, you didn’t care anymore. You were tired. Tired of the games, the blind loyalty to Dutch’s every whim, the endless cycle of running and stealing and pretending any of it had meaning.

All you wanted was a normal life, a roof over your head that didn’t leak when it rained, a place where fear didn’t cling to the walls like smoke. But that dream stayed out of reach, just like everything else. Hosea wouldn’t let you go. He was scared to lose you, to lose something that was never even his.

Pathetic.

That’s what it was. That’s what they all were. And maybe Molly was right, Dutch’s charm was nothing but poison, bleeding into everything and everyone

"Bastard..."

You wanted a job, something stable to call your own. Or, if that wasn’t in the cards, maybe just to find some rich fool to marry so you could finally live in peace. Far from all this chaos. But no, these people couldn’t leave well enough alone, they had to loot every rich soul they came across.

Leave someone for me to marry at least, you scoffed bitterly, lips curling in a faint, humourless smile.

Sigh.

Dream on, (Y/N). Dream on.

Hosea’s familiar voice drifted in from nearby, low and steady as he spoke with Abigail. No doubt she was serving him food since you hadn’t bothered to. The sound grated on you, making you roll your eyes and turn to the other side of your bedroll. It wouldn’t be long, two days, maximum, before Hosea came to lecture you, or worse, dragged you out of this tent himself.

He was always so damn strict when it came to pulling your weight.

But right now?

Screw it. Screw him. Screw all of them.

Let them fend for themselves.

❀˖°

"Why do you do all this?"

Not did that. Do this.

Arthur’s voice was low, almost fragile, but there was a weight to it. A question layered with meanings he couldn’t bring himself to say outright. He just hoped you’d hear it, the real question, underneath the words. His gaze stayed fixed on the worn soles of your shoes, watching as you scrubbed at the dishes with an edge of restrained aggression that didn’t go unnoticed.

The sight would be funny to anyone in the camp right now. He was reduced to barely speaking above a whisper when it came to you, his usual steady tone faltering in a way it never did with anyone else. Whilst you were the only one who wasn't afraid of even him. While others tiptoed around him, wary of the weight his presence carried, you treated him with the same indifference, the same biting sharpness that you spared for everyone else.

Dammit, he fucking loved it.

It wasn’t fear he wanted from you, not respect or even obedience. It was something, anything, that showed he wasn’t just another face in the camp to you. It made him feel like that was all he was. Just another man under Dutch rule.

And it was maddening.

"I could ask the same question to everyone here," you replied, voice steady but sharp, like a blade dulled just enough to wound without cutting too deep.

"But you know the answer," he countered, quieter now, his words almost swallowed by the night air.

"And you do too," you shot back, turning slightly to glance over your shoulder, "but here you are. Playing the mediator of sorts."

Arthur exhaled sharply, his gaze falling to the ground as if the weight of your words had struck him in the chest. For someone who claimed to want nothing to do with this place, with these people, you had an uncanny way of stirring up trouble within it.

Perhaps you wanted that. You wanted to get kicked out.

He wanted to throw the thought out into the open, let it snap between you like a taut rope. But the bitterness in your tone, the heaviness in your stance, made him hesitate. Throwing oil on the fire wasn’t going to do either of you any good, not today.

"You’re wasting your breath on someone who isn't listening to whatever you have to say."

"Then I’ll just keep talkin’ until you do," he shot back, his voice low but resolute.

"Do whatever, I don't care. This place is full of people barking orders and trying to be big. Pft. How adorable."

At least spare me a glance. Just one.

"If you don't care about yourself, then at least do it for Hosea." His voice was strained, laced with a desperation he couldn't quite hide.

That made you turn, finally, but the look you gave him was anything but kind. Your gaze was sharp, cutting, laced with a mix of disdain and challenge. "Oh, so now you're worried about me being a bad daughter or something?" you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "I wonder if you all think the same way when you're out there making other daughters cry, making women widows and destroying families without a second thought."

This was the longest conversation you both had. Ever. And damn it was a wrecked one.

Your lips curled into a humorless smile as you snorted, mocking. "Tsk, I bet that's an exception, right? Family only exists here." You pitched your voice to mimic Dutch's smooth drawl, the mockery biting. Then, as if dismissing him entirely, you turned back to the washing, your hands moving with renewed fervor, the sound of water splashing filling the silence.

Arthur stood there, jaw tight, the weight of your words sinking into him like stones in a river.

He stood rooted in place, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. He wanted to say something, needed to say something, but the words lodged themselves somewhere in his throat, refusing to come out. Maybe it was the truth in your words that had him stunned.

Before Arthur could find a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, Hosea stepped into the fray, his tone calm yet firm. “(Y/N)...dear, today or tomorrow, you’ve got to apologize to Dutch and bury this hatchet.”

Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, looking off to the side, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. His heart thumped unevenly as he anticipated your response.

You turned to Hosea sharply, your expression a volatile mix of shock and simmering fury. “You want me to apologize to him?! For what?” Your voice rose, cutting through the camp’s quiet. “Just for talking to you about something I’ve wanted to for so damn long?!”

Arthur’s head snapped back in your direction. He could see the fire in your eyes now, blazing and relentless, and it struck something in him. That fire, he both loved and hated it, craved it and feared it. It was the very thing that made you impossible to ignore, yet it was also what pushed you farther from him. And still, he couldn’t help but think how maddeningly beautiful you looked right now, even if it tore him apart to watch you lock yourself away further from everyone, including him.

Hosea sighed, his calm facade slipping just slightly. “It’s not about what was said, it’s about how it was said. Dutch... he’s not perfect, but he’s trying. We all are.”

Your laugh was hollow, bitter. “Trying? Trying to keep us all in line like dogs? Sure, that sounds like a real noble effort.” You crossed your arms, your gaze icy as it met Hosea’s. “If you want to grovel to Dutch, go ahead. But don’t drag me into it.”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his fingers brushing against his holster as if searching for something to ground himself. He knew that your words were not only directed at Hosea but him too.

“You’ve got too much pride,” Hosea muttered, shaking his head in exasperation.

“And you’ve got too much blind loyalty,” you shot back, unrelenting.

Hosea held your gaze, his own softening but remaining firm. "Look, let me say this again, this isn’t about the words you said, it’s about the way you said them. You can stand by your beliefs without tearing everyone else down in the process, sweetheart."

You scoffed, crossing your arms defensively. "So what? Dutch can tear everyone down, but when someone calls him out, it’s suddenly a problem?! That’s rich."

"It doesn't matter!" Hosea’s voice rose slightly before he caught himself, lowering it to a pleading tone. "And quiet down, don’t create a scene, again. Have mercy on your old man, at least. For now, we’re in the camp, and as long as we are, Dutch shouldn’t be disrespected like that. You can be as angry as you want with me, but please, just apologize to him. He’s always been like an uncle to you... (Y/N)."

You let out a bitter scoff, your lips curling in defiance. "And he's the one who clearly doesn't want me here but--fine...fine Papa," your hands slammed the plate down in the basin. "I’ll do whatever you say. Because, apparently, my words are nothing but bullets of disloyalty now. The same words that were once adorable wishes to you."

Your words hit like a lash, leaving Hosea standing frozen as you stormed off toward your tent. Arthur watched the older man, his chest tightening when he saw the same hurt settle in Hosea’s eyes, the kind of pain that only festers in the heart of someone who loves deeply and feels powerless.

"I wish..." Hosea began, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling under the weight of emotions he rarely let show. "I wish I never told her the truth... that she’s not my child. Maybe it messed her up... It broke me more than it broke her."

Arthur stepped forward, his boots crunching softly against the dirt as he hesitated for a moment before closing the distance. Hosea turned his head slightly, and Arthur's heart clenched when he saw the glint of tears streaking down the older man’s face. It was the second time Arthur had witnessed Hosea cry, the first being after Bessie's death.

"It... it terrified me," Hosea whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I kept thinkin' last night, what if one day I'm not here, and Dutch just turns on her like that? Sure, the women might object, but that’s it. They’re powerless against him. No one would stand up for her... and she'd be all alone..." He sniffed, wiping his eyes, trying to regain control. "And that’s what broke me, Arthur."

It broke me too...

Arthur stepped closer, his voice low but steady. "Jus' don't think about all that happened. Forget it and don't worry Dutch will forget about it. He won’t hold onto it, not like that. And she... she’ll forget too. You’ll see."

Hosea let out a dry chuckle, wiping a stray tear from his weathered cheek. "She? I don’t think so. Not about this. When it comes to this topic, she won’t let it go." He paused, leaning heavily against the wooden counter, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of years pressed harder in that moment. "I want it too, Arthur. The house, the quiet life… I want to give her that. But it’s not easy. It’s not."

He gestured vaguely toward the camp, the flickering lantern light catching in his tired eyes. "Leaving all this behind, all of you, it’d feel like... like a betrayal. Even if I left on a good note, it wouldn’t sit right. Do you get what I mean?"

Arthur nodded, his posture relaxing now that you weren’t there to sharpen the tension in the air. "Yeah," he said softly. "I think we all... kind of want that." His words trailed off, his thoughts unraveling into something more personal. Something he couldn’t bring himself to say.

I do. I want it... with you. Maybe. No...

Only.

Hosea turned his head to study him, an unspoken question hanging in the silence. Arthur caught the look and quickly shrugged it off, letting out a small exhale as if to clear the thought entirely. "Jus’ don’t let Dutch know," he muttered with a faint smirk. Hosea returned the gesture. " 'Course not. Let's go have some coffee, boy." He reached to pat the man's shoulder but Arthur’s hand shot out, grabbing Hosea’s with a suddenness that made the older man freeze. His eyes, wide and questioning, met Arthur’s with a flicker of concern, but also an understanding that something serious was coming.

"Um--there’s... something that I want to..." Arthur’s voice faltered as he cleared his throat. His gaze darted to the ground, to the side, anywhere but Hosea’s eyes. The same sheepish, uncertain look Hosea had seen a hundred times, but now it felt different.

Hosea arched a brow, waiting for him to continue. "Well, go on then. What did you do?"

Arthur’s mind was a mess, his thoughts tangled with nerves and fear. What the hell am I doing? His heart raced as his hand shook slightly. What the hell am I about to do?

His breath caught as he reached into the inside of his jacket, fingers brushing the fabric of the chest pocket where he’d hidden it. It was a decision that had plagued him for days, one that felt impossible to avoid now.

He pulled out the scarf--silken, covered in his scent, soft to the touch, but now burning in his hand like a symbol of everything he couldn’t say.

 For her.

It’s for her.

"I- I bought this..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words aloud made them too real, too vulnerable.

Hosea’s face was unreadable at first, but then he saw the scarf, and a brief chuckle escaped him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I thought it was clear I’m a man, Arthur."

The joke hit Arthur like a slap, and he couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten. God, this was harder than he’d imagined. His throat went dry, his fingers tightening around the scarf as if it could somehow anchor him, give him the courage to keep going. But he was drowning in hesitation.

Arthur’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, his entire body trembling with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. The thought of Hosea’s reaction, the uncertainty of what might follow this moment, made him question if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. Would Hosea kill him? Would he laugh at him? Or worse, would he pity him?

Hosea’s eyes bore into him, patient, yet expectant. "Well, boy?"

Arthur’s mouth went dry, but he forced the words out. "It’s for... (Y/N)."

For a moment, there was a stillness, and then to his shock, Hosea’s expression softened, eyes widening, almost in a kind of jubilant surprise. The older man’s lips curled into a smile, the warmth of it almost disarming.

Hosea took the scarf from Arthur, his hands gentle as he examined the gift. A sense of something unspoken passed between them, something Arthur couldn’t quite name, but it was there in the way Hosea’s gaze softened. "Really?"

Arthur barely had the strength to nod, his eyes avoiding Hosea’s, his face burning with embarrassment and a kind of fear he couldn’t even process. Was this really happening? He was spilling it to him, of all people, your father.

He nodded again, his voice barely a whisper. "Yeah..."

Hosea’s hand reached out to pat Arthur’s arm in an almost fatherly gesture, the older man’s voice low and steady. "Well then... I’ll be sure to give it to her." He smiled, a knowing warmth in his eyes that made Arthur’s chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. "Thank you. Y’know... you’re the only one I trust after me."

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat, the words sinking in like the heaviest of weights. It felt like he’d won a game, but one he hadn’t even realized he was playing.

Arthur’s throat tightened at the thought, his breath catching. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d attached to the simple scarf until now. It was just a piece of fabric, yet the meaning behind it had become so much more than he’d ever expected.

"Just... tell her to, you know... don’t burn it at least," he muttered, his chuckle awkward and thin, as if trying to deflect the intensity of his own feelings. But the words weren’t a joke. They were the truth, and they hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

The image burned in his mind, you, angry, perhaps unaware, throwing it into the campfire or tearing it apart with a pair of scissors. The thought was almost unbearable, each possibility worse than the last. The way his hands clenched into fists at his sides showed just how deep the fear ran.

He couldn’t let that happen.

If you did something like that, if you so much as damaged it, he... he didn’t know what he’d do. His thoughts spiraled out of control. Would he lash out? Would he burn the whole camp down if it meant getting you back, getting that thing back, untainted by your disregard? The intensity of his protectiveness shocked him, made his pulse quicken.

He forced himself to exhale, slow and controlled, but the tightness in his chest remained.

"Tell her," he repeated softly, though his voice cracked with something that felt more desperate than he'd intended.

"I will, I will. Don't you worry."

❀˖°

You nearly sewed your own finger, but kept going, the needle trembling slightly in your hand as you tried to focus. Jack sure knew how to break his damn button every week. But you never minded of course. That adorable little kid is like your brother. You couldn't remember the last time you’d felt calm enough to sit still and stitch something--anything--together without your mind wandering.

"I’m proud of you, y'know. You apologized. Thank you." Hosea’s voice broke through the silence, warm but layered with something else, something like relief, as he sipped his coffee. His words sank into the quiet of the tent, the flickering lamplight casting soft shadows over his face.

"Of course you are."

His response was a low chuckle, tinged with affection. He knew you loved him and valued his advice,. His mind played the memories of the times when you always waited worriedly whenever he went on jobs and made sure he was looked after in the camp. He couldn't be proud to have you as his daughter even if both of you clashed at moments like these.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of meeting his eyes. Even if you’d done it for Hosea, for your own reasons, you couldn't shake the irritation that still lingered beneath your skin. But he was happy, and that was enough for him. His approval always mattered to you, more than you’d ever admit.

The silence stretched out between you as you continued to sew, the rhythmic motion almost comforting. But Hosea’s gaze shifted, the way it always did when something was on his mind. He glanced at the closed flap of the tent, his attention drawn to the world outside. Then, after a moment, he spoke again.

"Here," Hosea said, holding the item out to you, his expression tight, as if he wasn't entirely sure how you would take it. You eyed the scarf suspiciously before taking it, your fingers brushing against the fabric, your thoughts clouded.

"Wow, thanks...it's so pretty," you muttered, still trying to piece together what was happening. Though genuinely happy to receive a beautiful gift.

Hosea shifted on his feet, averting his gaze, as if the words were stuck in his throat. After a long pause, you saw the truth flicker in his eyes.

"It's...from Arthur."

"Wha---huh? Why?" you asked, the suspicion in your tone now more palpable than ever.

Hosea looked away again, the embarrassment and discomfort evident in his posture, but the message was clear. You felt the shift in the air, a kind of pressure that built between you both.

Your blood ran cold, and you couldn't stop the words that spilled from your lips. "Wha- excuse me??! Did you... did you just sell me or something?!"

The words landed, and Hosea's head snapped back, his face darkening, his jaw tight with frustration.

"What even---Are you out of your mind?" he shot back, his voice low, heated now. "Listen to me. I am not going to be here for you forever, and I worry for you, even if you think I don't! And him, he’s the only one I would trust to-"

"What are you on about?!" you cut him off, your voice rising with anger. "Am I some child that needs to be babysat?! I won’t stay here forever, either, Papa! Hell, I won't! And you’re here finding ways to bind me here?!" You could feel the heat rising in your chest, the frustration turning into something you couldn’t hold in any longer. "I understand everything! Don’t think I’m a fool!"

You couldn’t stop yourself. With a burst of pent-up fury, you threw the scarf on the floor, your hands shaking with the force of your frustration. "Handing me to some old lap dog, you’re out of your mind! I can't believe it, have some shame!."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you both, as Hosea stood there, his hand still frozen in the air where he'd offered you the scarf, his eyes full of something raw, hurt, frustration, confusion. Hosea opened his mouth, but no words came. His gaze softened, his lips parted as if he were trying to find something to say. But the words you had just spoken hung heavy in the air, too loud and too real to take back now.

"You think I want this for you?" he finally whispered, more to himself than to you, his voice strained with frustration. "I just want you safe, damn it. Safe."

"If you want that, then find someone else, someone normal. A proper suitor, maybe? A decent citizen? Like Mama would have wanted!"

"And you think a 'normal citizen,' or the rich kind you dream of marrying, won’t ask about our background? Won’t dig into our truth? You want something built on lies, instead of what’s real? The most honest person you could have is right here, willing to do anything for you. I raised that boy, and I damn well know he will never disappoint me."

You rolled your eyes, fed up with another one of his lectures. "Yeah, because after spending half my life with outlaws, I've definitely lost the chance to be with anyone 'normal,' haven’t I? Then I'd rather die alone! Every man here is raised by you in some way but that doesn't mean that I have to trust them let alone be with THEM! You are being delusional! Whatever--just give it back, for God's sake," you snapped, your voice thick with frustration as you turned away, trying to put distance between yourself and the scarf as if it could somehow erase the conversation.

Hosea didn't move to leave. He just stood there. After a long pause, he shook his head gently, as if reconciling himself with something painful. "No, no I won't. Gifts are not meant to be... given back."

He picked the scarf up, his hands cradling it carefully as if it were something fragile, and for a moment, you could see him lost in thought, his eyes distant, remembering something else.

"I remember... the first time I held you in my arms," he murmured, his voice softer now, the anger and frustration fading into something more vulnerable. "You were my gift, too. You still are."

Your heart stuttered for a moment, the memory of being held like that, cradled in his arms when you were small, a time before all the complexities of your relationship had gotten so tangled. The warmth of his embrace felt distant now, like a fading echo.

Or it's just his way of manipulation.

"Papa, please, why are you even siding with him-"

"Enough, because I know better and I know you better," he interrupted, his voice firm this time, though it cracked slightly with emotion. "Just keep it." His words hung in the air, and he turned to leave the tent but paused just before he stepped outside.

He looked back, his gaze meeting yours for a moment, something flickered in his eyes, something deep, filled with regret, but also resolve. "If I couldn't, or am unable to give you the life you want," he said softly, each word deliberate, "my heart says he will."

You shook your head, your voice bitter as it escaped you. "Oh please, wait till you see when he kicks me out one day on your beloved Dutch's orders."

Hosea didn’t respond right away. He just looked at you, his expression a mixture of sorrow and a kind of quiet resignation, before he finally turned and walked out of the tent.

He would never be able to make you understand that Arthur would be the last person to do that.

❀˖°

The days that followed felt heavier, like a fog had settled around you. Arthur's presence, once easily ignored, now seemed to infiltrate every corner of your space. He started lingering around more often, always appearing at the most inconvenient times when you and Hosea were sharing a quiet meal or having (tea/coffee). At first, you thought it was just a coincidence, maybe just a shared moment of camaraderie, but the more it happened, the more uncomfortable it made you.

Arthur wasn’t doing anything overtly wrong, of course. He sat quietly, politely joining the conversation when spoken to, sipping coffee, offering a nod here and there.

It bothered you. You loathed it.

Is this some sort of indirect courting? Were you imagining things, or was this his way of trying to ingratiate himself with you? Was he trying to get Hosea's approval? To intimidate you? Or, perhaps, was it something more direct? Was he trying to... what, win you over? Hosea, for all his kindness and wisdom, didn’t mind Arthur’s company, even encouraged it.

The words Hosea had said echoed in your mind, lingering like smoke. "If I couldn’t, or am unable to give you the life you want, my heart says he will."

You scoffed internally, trying to push it away, but the more you thought about it, the more it gnawed at you. Was that really true? Hosea seemed to believe it, but you weren’t so sure. Arthur? The golden boy of Dutch’s gang? Or was Hosea just trying to soften the blow, making it sound like there was hope when in reality there was none?

You rolled your eyes, staring out into the distance. Why would he go after you? Out of all the people in the camp, why you?

It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

Still, a small part of you wondered... Should you ask him?

But what if you were wrong? What if Hosea was just speaking out of some misplaced hope? You didn’t know. And that uncertainty, it made you uncomfortable. Because you weren’t one to be uncertain. You didn't like it.

He just wants someone young to play with now that he's lonely.

Arthur stared at the journal in his lap, the unfinished sketch of eyes glaring up at him, imperfect and frustrating. He let out a slow, almost imperceptible sigh, his pencil hovering over the page, but he couldn’t seem to get it right. The eyes, those eyes, kept staring back at him, their gaze too empty, too raw. The frown on his face deepened as he bit his lip, his mind spiraling in frustration.

But that frown, that damn cute frown, it wouldn't fade. It never did. The curve of your lips when you were irritated or deep in thought, the way your brows furrowed as you focused on something else... It was almost intoxicating how endearing it was. Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about it, and worse, he couldn’t stop wanting to be the one to make that frown disappear.

If only you'd look at him once with a smile, he thought bitterly, the words tasting both sweet and impossible.

Because deep down, Arthur knew, he'd do anything. He’d break the sky and bring the world to your feet if you ever gave him that smile. 

He longed for that.

But no, that’s just a dream, Arthur thought with a resigned sigh, closing his journal and resting his hands on his knees. You wouldn’t even notice me that way. I'm just some damn fool in Dutch’s gang.

❀˖°

It was another evening, quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional crackle of the campfire. You were chopping vegetables at the makeshift table, the rhythmic thud of the knife against the wood filling the air. Hosea sat a few feet away on an overturned crate, sipping his coffee with a watchful but calm expression.

Arthur appeared at the edge of the clearing, his hat tilted low and his hands shoved into his pockets. You barely glanced at him, focused on your task, but the tension in his gait was impossible to ignore. Hosea caught it too, his brow raising ever so slightly as Arthur cleared his throat.

“Evenin’,” Arthur mumbled, his voice unusually hesitant.

Hosea nodded in acknowledgment, setting his cup down. “Evening, Arthur.”

Arthur glanced at you, then back at Hosea. His jaw worked for a moment, as though wrestling with what

And then you heard the words. Full of hesitation.

“I was wonderin’... if I could take her out. Just, ya know, get her outta this camp for a bit. I figure... she could use some air.” His words hung in the air, but his eyes seemed distant, almost like he was hoping for a miracle.

You stiffened immediately, your brows furrowing in disbelief. You hadn’t been in the mood for any of this, and you weren’t sure how you felt about Arthur’s proposal. "I am absolutely fine staying here, got it?"

Arthur’s jaw tightened as he stared at your hunched frame, your defiance practically radiating off you. His voice softened, though there was a trace of frustration. “You’re not fine. Not always, and not here.”

You turned sharply, glaring at him with a fire that made his breath hitch for a moment. “What do you know about what I need, huh? You think you can just waltz in here and decide things for me? I said I am not going so I am not!”

Arthur took a step back, but not because he was intimidated. He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “Ain’t about me decidin’ nothin’. You don’t even gotta like me. But you deserve better than to keep hiding in this damn camp, snappin' at everyone tryin' to care for you.”

 "You’ve got some nerve asking me that. I don't need anyone taking me anywhere. Just 'cause you brought me a damn scarf doesn’t mean I owe you a thing."

Arthur seemed to bristle at your sharp reaction, but Hosea leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, studying the both of you with a quiet smile. He wasn’t offended, he understood.

Your glare didn’t falter, but Hosea cleared his throat before you could respond. “He’s got a point, you know.” His tone was calm, measured. “A little ride won’t kill you.”

You crossed your arms. “I said no Papa and that means, NO."

Arthur stepped closer again, his voice lower now, almost pleading. “I ain't Dutch. I ain’t gonna force ya into anything. But sometimes, you gotta trust someone’s tryin’ to help, even if it don’t make sense at first.. Just...give me a chance...please.”

Before you could reply, the unmistakable sound of Dutch’s boots approached. “Well, isn’t this cozy,” Dutch drawled, stepping into the space with a deliberate slowness that made everyone tense. He looked from Arthur to you, a sly smile curling on his lips. “Arthur, you’re not causin’ any trouble now, are you?”

Arthur’s shoulders squared. “Just talkin’. Nothin’ more.”

Dutch’s gaze flicked between the two of you, his smile growing sharper. “Talkin’, huh? Always knew you had a soft spot, Arthur. You got that puppy-dog look about you. But...you sure you’re barkin’ up the right tree here?”

The air went cold, and you froze, your grip tightening on the knife in your hand. Dutch’s words stung, a mixture of insult and insinuation that made your face burn with anger and shame.

“Dutch,” Hosea interjected, standing up from his crate, his tone calm but firm. “C'mon...don't say that."

Dutch laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave y’all to it. Just a little friendly advice, Arthur. Watch where you step. You wouldn’t want to trip.” With that, he turned on his heel and sauntered off, his laughter echoing behind him. Hosea shot Arthur a brief look before following after Dutch, likely to smooth things over or ensure the situation didn’t escalate further.

Arthur lingered awkwardly near the table. His fingers toyed with the brim of his hat, his eyes darting between you and the ground as though he couldn’t quite decide where to settle. He hesitated, his hand lifting slightly as if to reach out to you, his face a mix of guilt and frustration. “Look, I-”

You sighed, stabbing the knife into the cutting board and crossing your arms. "What? Just go away."

Arthur flinched, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Didn’t mean to bother you,” he muttered, his voice low and almost apologetic. “Just...ignore what he said.”

"But what he said was right."

"No, it wasn't." He looked up then, the defensiveness clear as day in his eyes. “It ain’t like that,” he said, his voice firmer now. “Dutch--he just likes to run his mouth. Don’t mean nothin’.”

“Doesn’t it?” you challenged, your tone sharp. “You didn’t exactly deny it back there.”

Arthur hesitated, his jaw tightening as though he was weighing his next words carefully. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Look, I ain’t tryin’ to make your life harder. I thought maybe... I don’t know. Thought you’d wanna get out for a bit. Thought it might help.”

“Help with what, exactly?” You gestured around you, exasperated.

“I just… I thought it’d be nice. Thought maybe you’d... enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it?” you repeated, incredulous. “Arthur, I don’t even know what you’re trying to do here. Why you’re trying so hard.”

His jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides before relaxing again. “Maybe I am tryin’,” he admitted, his voice low and uneven. “Don’t know why you think that’s a crime.”

“I didn’t ask for any of it,” you said, your tone quieter now, less biting. “I didn’t ask for you to care.”

He laughed softly, a bitter sound that barely reached his lips. “Yeah. I know. But it ain’t somethin’ I can help. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“You’re making it more complicated, you know.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’d rather be here makin’ things complicated than not be here at all.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, suffocating and undeniable. You didn’t know what to do with it, with him, with any of this. So you did what you always did, you deflected.

“I’ve got work to do,” you said, pushing off the crate and brushing past him towards the wagon. As you walked past him, your voice cut through the heavy silence, sharp and low enough that he almost missed it.

"Why don’t you take all this energy and use it on something worthwhile? Perhaps finding the right tree." You chuckled tauntingly as you went inside the wagon.

He didn’t try to stop you, didn’t say anything else, not wanting to draw too much attention to the scene. With a heavy sigh, he decided to go for a ride.

❀˖°

When he returned later that night, most of the camp was either finishing up their dinner, indulging in late-night games, or sitting quietly by the fire.

He didn’t sense your presence anywhere, and he figured you were probably in your tent, finally savoring some solitude after a long day of work and being surrounded by the others. But he also knew that Dutch’s words from earlier weren’t easy to shake off, especially for you. Your blood was likely still boiling. Worse, you must be hurt too.

Taking advantage of everyone being preoccupied, his steps naturally gravitated toward your tent, your sanctuary. A place he had only ever dared to dream of being close to. What was it like inside? He often wondered. Would the air inside smell faintly of you? Would he ever be someone who belonged in your space? He imagined a future where he could step into it freely, with no hesitation, no uncertainty. A time when he wouldn’t even need to knock when he could enter with a smile on his face and a gift in his hand, your relationship so natural and warm that it felt like home.

But maybe that was the point. You didn’t need anyone in that space, and a part of him liked that. Liked that you existed here, hidden away, out of reach of the world’s harsh gaze. It wasn’t fair or right, but it soothed something deep and primal in him. If he had his way, the world would never touch you. You’d stay tucked away where only he could find you as if this tent was built for the two of you alone. Still, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to see you in his world, in his tent, on his bed, wrapped up in everything that was his.

Hidden away, yes, but hidden with him.

He cleared his throat, his eyes too shy to even glance fully inside, though the tent flap hung half-open.

"Who is it now?"

"Me... I--uh...can I?"

A soft, irritated sound followed, then your voice gave reluctant confirmation. “Leave the flap wide open.”

He obeyed, pushing the fabric aside, the cool night air spilling in. Then he stood there like a fool, frozen for several seconds as his eyes found you sitting on the edge of the cot, one leg bouncing with impatience. Enchanting nonetheless.

“Well? What now?”

The sharpness of your tone jolted him back to his senses. For a moment, he still couldn’t believe you’d allowed him inside. Maybe you were too tired to step out yourself, but he couldn’t help feeling grateful anyway.

Taking a cautious step closer, his gaze drifted and landed on the scarf in the corner, dangling from the back of a chair.

At least you kept it.

You kept it.

That was enough for him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he dropped to his knee in front of you, his height aligning perfectly with yours now. The act wasn’t one of submission but of devotion, a silent acknowledgment that your hatred, cold and unyielding, loomed larger than the fire of his love. And yet, he stayed there, resolute.

If he had to kneel to earn even a fragment of your gaze, he would. If being this close meant bearing the weight of your disdain, so be it. Because in this moment, it wasn’t his pride that mattered, it was you.

Your first instinct was shock. His sudden closeness threw you off, but as the silence stretched and his hesitation became almost unbearable, you decided to speak, cutting through the tension.

“I think you’re only acting like this because Dutch reckons it’s the best way to keep me in line. So that you can scare me or something. Y’know, keep me stuck in this camp so Pa’s happy, Dutch is happy, and my life here is just that much more miserable.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed immediately, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “No,” he said firmly, his voice quiet but resolute. “It ain’t like that. It ain’t even close to that.”

He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting lightly on his knees as he searched for the right words. “Do I look like someone who’d think that way? Or...who’d go along with somethin’ like that? Do you really think Hosea would do that to you? Think about you like that?” His voice softened at the edges, but there was an undeniable conviction in it.

“You ain’t some animal we gotta control, alright?” He shook his head, as if shaking off the very thought of it. “You’re...more than that. Always have been."

Arthur sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I know...there’s a whole lotta differences between us. But...I can’t help myself, y’know? I’ve tried. Lord knows I’ve tried.” His words faltered, and he cursed under his breath.

Damn, I forgot half of what I wanted to say.

You tilted your head, watching him struggle, your patience wearing thin.

He took a deep breath and pressed on, his voice quieter but no less earnest. “I don’t deserve this, I know that. Hell, you don’t deserve this, either. But one thing I can promise you, right here, right now...I’ll make this better. I’ll try every damn day to make your life here bearable, to give you somethin’ better. Until...”

He stopped himself, biting back the words he wasn’t sure you were ready to hear. “Until I can give you somethin’ far better than all this.”

He paused, his jaw tightening before he met your eyes again. “And no one, not a damn soul, will have the guts to disrespect you here. Not while I’m around.”

You raised a brow, skepticism clear in your voice. “Not even Dutch?”

Arthur swallowed hard, but he nodded firmly. “Yeah....not even him.”

Without thinking, he reached out and grasped your hands, his touch rough but grounding. He held on like it was the only thing tethering him to the moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of trust, of understanding, of...hope.

"But why though? All of a sudden? And me?"

"I...wish I knew. But I am helpless right now. Helpless against these questions and these...feelings."

His eyes searched yours, desperate and pleading, but your words cut through him like a knife.

“If this is all true, then...why didn’t your lover, what was her name? Oh yeah, Mary, who even loved you, stick around?”

Arthur flinched as if you’d struck him. His heart trembled at the weight of your words, your tone unclear, was it innocent? Genuine? Or just plain cruel?

"That...that was different."

Your gaze didn’t waver, and your tongue stayed edged. “Okay but if she didn’t trust you enough to stay, then why should I? We’re not even-”

He moved before you could finish, his jaw tightening as he stood. With a single step, he reached for the scarf draped over the chair. Silent and deliberate, he placed it on the bed beside you, his every motion measured.

You watched him, confused and uncertain, as he pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket. He smoothed them flat and placed them in the middle of the scarf. His hands moved deftly, folding the fabric around the money with a care that felt almost reverent.

Finally, he turned to you, kneeling once more. His rough, calloused hands gently wrapped around yours, closing your fingers firmly over the bundle. His touch was warm, grounding, yet carried the weight of something far greater.

“Here,” he said, his voice low but steady. “This...this is the only proof I can give you. I’ll keep fillin’ it, day by day, until we’ve got enough to leave. And you’ll keep it safe. You’ll keep it with you. It's yours. Only yours."

And I am too.

"I know...that the money is not gonna come from honest ways which you hate of course, but...there's no other way it can be done...but it will be done, alright?"

His breath hitched as he leaned closer, his shadow falling over you like a shroud. The proximity made your heart thrum unevenly, though you’d never admit it.

You stared at the scarf in your hands, his grip firm but trembling ever so slightly. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up, to meet his eyes. A dozen questions churned in your mind, your heart caught between disbelief and something else you couldn’t name.

Why was he doing this? Why for you? Damn, you never pegged him for such a fool.

It was as if he could sense the weight of your weariness. His voice softened, low and earnest.

“I just want you to greet me every time I come back…and every time I go. With that smile of yours.” He paused, his gaze dropping for a moment, as though the vulnerability of his words was too much. “That’s all I ask of you...that’s all this idiot asks of you.”

And to have you in my arms every night.

The thought came unbidden, a longing too deep and too dangerous to voice aloud. No, he couldn’t say that, not yet. It was too much to ask.

You blinked at him, caught off guard, your lips parting slightly as if to respond. “Um...I don't--” You cleared your throat, but the words still wouldn’t come.

When you finally looked up, he saw it, emotions swirling in your eyes, unguarded for once. Fear, confusion, a flicker of nervousness. But there was something else, something softer, buried beneath it all. His heart, racing only moments ago, steadied as if your gaze alone could calm him.

Unable to stop himself, he leaned closer, closing the space between you. His lips brushed the top of your head in a tender kiss, one that lingered longer than it should have.

You flinched a little but didn't pull away, and that, to him, was enough. A sign of acceptance, no matter how small.

The scent of your hair, the warmth of your presence, it was intoxicating. For the first time, he felt hope unfurling in his chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours once more. He didn’t say anything else, not wanting to break the fragile moment, and instead rose to his feet. His shadow stretched across the tent as he turned toward the flap, his steps deliberate and slow.

And just before he stepped out into the night, he glanced over his shoulder. “Goodnight, darlin’.”

Tonight, he might finally be able to sleep.

Arthur lay down on his cot, an idiotic smile tugging at his lips as he stared at the hat resting on the table. It wasn’t just a hat, it was your approval, your silent acknowledgment, your acceptance. For the first time in a long while, he felt...hopeful.

And now, he thought, he’d finally be able to wear it.

❀˖°

The outlaw's gaze drifted to the sketches, one was complete, your softer expression, that innocent curiosity you had when your guard wasn’t up. The other remained unfinished, a portrait of your infamous frown. Not that he hated it, hell, that frown had a charm of its own, sharp and stubborn. But something about leaving it incomplete felt right. He decided it would remain that way. He didn’t want to immortalise that side of you, not in his art or heart.

Arthur reached for the softer sketch, running a thumb over the lines as if touching the paper could bring you closer to him. He studied it, his heart aching with an almost unbearable tenderness.

No, you deserved better. You deserved to keep smiling. And if it took him a lifetime to make that happen, so be it.

Hosea watched from a distance, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Arthur hugged your stiff form, bidding you farewell. He observed the way Arthur's demeanour had softened, the usual rough edges of the man becoming more relaxed in your presence. The smile and the way he tipped his hat to you before mounting the horse were enough to confirm the change that had occurred in him.

Arthur's gaze briefly flicked over to where Hosea stood, his eyes meeting the older man’s. With a small, almost sheepish nod of acknowledgment, Arthur gave a quick tip of his head. It was subtle, but Hosea had known him long enough to recognize the shift in his posture, the lightness in his eyes.

The mentor's smile deepened, though there was a softness to it that spoke of more than just amusement. It was the kind of smile a father would give when he saw something unexpected in a child, something tender, something hopeful.

It was good to see Arthur's content again. What truly surprised him, though, was that it was his daughter who had made it possible after all this time. The last person he imagined to ever do that and that made him chuckle quietly.

A match made in heaven indeed...

(AN: •⩊• u better interact for high honour++)

[dailyadventureprompts]

Hi there! I'm a huge fan of your work, and I was wondering if you could help flesh out a vilain idea I had? I have a basic setup, but no idea how to make him a rounder character.

The gist of it is a fey king whose queen died, so, driven mad with grief and incredibly deep in denial, he reaches out into the Material Plane and kidnaps women who resemble his queen, forcibly altering their minds and bodies through fell magic to transform them into reincarnations of his queen. He keeps failing as the magic instead transforms them into horribly broken and mutated horrors, driving him to more desperate measures.

Other than that, I have no idea how to develop him further or devise an end to his evil :(( so any tips on villain development would be greatly appreciated :))

Adventure: A Covetous Love

Friend, you don't need to make your villain a rounder character, you just need to refocus your narrative onto the genuinely horrific scenario you've created where a series of women have their identities torn away piece by piece. How does it feel to go through it? What must it be like for their friends and family to watch as the woman they knew is replaced by some cruel parody in line with a stranger’s lusts?  Refocusing the story on the current victim likewise gives the story human stakes, and allows the party a good entrypoint into this ongoing tragedy with the chance of possibly preventing it from repeating. 

Before we get into the story itself, here’s a few more ideas I’m going to suggest: 

Rather than kidnapping outright, the fey lord visits his victims in disguise courting them as if he were a wealthy, charming suitor. He offers jewelry and trinkets and other fine things, all infused with the essence of his beloved, and as each of them is accepted the victim becomes a little bit more and more like his queen. A silver comb that turns her hair into HER hair, a cup of wine that fills her dreams with memories of their pramanades through faerie together, makeup that not only wipes out any flaws but transforms the face into a mask of bloodless porcelain perfection. 

Likewise, the transformation process specifically fails because the fey’s expectations are too much. If he were willing to settle for someone who only reminded him of his bride, or gods help him strike out on some new course, he could theoretically be happy… but because he keeps trying to make his victims MORE he ends up with an idea that collapses in on itself, something too perfect to live or even maintain a coherent form. 

To really drive home the tragedy of the horror, I’m going to suggest that the current victim is a woman trapped in either a political marriage or one that’s long gone cold. The fey will exploit her genuine desire for romance and affection, as well as her longing to escape the cage of her life, making the offer of becoming someone else (even if it means dying in the process) all the more tempting. This makes it so that the hinge point of the adventure isn’t just a “rescue the princess” matter of getting her away from the fey, but confronting her as a person and trying to persuade her that there’s some other path to freedom than letting herself be eaten by some otherworldly waifu. 

This setup also gives the party a great secondary antagonist to clash against: the jealous mortal husband, someone who technically WANTS the same thing as the party and has the resources at his back, but will actively drive the victim into the fey’s arms every time he gets involved. He wants to save the victim, but doesn’t care about her happiness, in fact he may be intent on punishing her for her infidelity. He’s there to show why the victim wants to leave. 

Adventure Hooks: 

The party first encounter Lady Melanie Kerridell while out in the wilderness when a stag she’s hunting blunders into their path/camp, on horseback, weapon in hand and her fine clothes streaked with mud. She’ll berate them if they let the beast escape or steal the kill for themselves, but half way through will stagger and lose track of where she is. Just about then a group of her friends and servants will crash through the foliage in a desperate state, as Melanie was out with them having a country luncheon when she spotted the stag, grabbed a weapon from the guards, and took off after it.  This is not the first time this has happened, Lady Kerridell is about half way transformed into the Green-Eyed-Queen and she’s letting herself slip more and more. A concerned friend will invite the party back with them to the estate, and then politely broach the topic about how they might “look in” on Melanie and what might be causing her to act this way. 

The party receive a letter from Lady Kerridell, begging for their help ridding her manor of a haunting, of a monster that has been wandering her home at night wearing her face. When they seek her out however they find her beautiful and cruel and with no idea whatsoever who sent them the letter, despite it bearing her seal.

Lord Edrick Kerridell catches the party snooping around and offers to pay them if they can track down the young dandy he’s seen his wife sneaking off into the gardens to neck with. He wants to know just who the man is before he decides what to do with him, just incase these pricy gifts are from the vault of some other great family. When the party do find the dandy,  he’ll lead them on a merry chase through the town, dragging them all into the feywild if they manage to corner him. 

The local jeweler needs some help investigating a robbery, a few pieces were stolen, but the prize of the take was a staggeringly beautiful necklace of gold and jade, which he was in the middle of repairing. Strangeness surrounds the case: the dandy who delivered the necklace made no secret that it was for a married woman and as the jeweler worked on it he couldn’t shake the feeling of some kind of presence skirting around the edge of his workshop.  When the party find the thief they’ll find her in a bit of a state, having put on the necklace and been influenced by the fey-bride’s mind, she now finds herself driven to heist the home of Lady Berridale. Ostensibly this is for more riches, but the shard of the green eyed queen seeks to complete herself, which will likely result in one of the two womens’ deaths. 

Art

[rbvcdeluxe]

it has been mentioned quite some times by starkid and the langs themselves that cc could easily and may become part of a musical series, and, honestly, it fucking should be. There are many details in cc that are yet needed to be explained.

Each scene in cc felt smooth, but even with that, you could feel how there are more stories behind everything, behind each character and word. We need to know more about the house Ashmore. It's part of their name but, how is fire that much related to them? Is it a coincidence? is it part of the ashmore's story? Why are they ashmores? Why is ash and fire important? Ash to ash, talking about ella's mother death, danced, lady ashmore burned, “A story so old”, how old exactly?

An idea I have is that, if Ella didnt have any of that power or magic, she would have been also burned since she was considered to be mad and crazy. So I wonder, how old is the story of lady ashmore burned? was it only because of her mother? Because I wouldnt think so, if it was only of that it wouldnt be that old. But heres the catch, it could even be a generational thing or something that has happened multiple times, I'm not saying that always, but various times by women of the house ashmore.

We need to know about the fairy queen of sweet dreams, which did only appear once. And, the nine good gods? “Gods rise and fall, all of them false.” ???? Who are these Gods exactly? or the ones who the fairy saw? Are the one who have risen part of the nine? If false, how did they happen to be called Gods? In another note, what are the fairy's powers and how do they work? Why did she care about Ella specifically? why did she wanted to help on her desires of revenge? how did she know that kindness was not Ella's exact desire?

And questions just keep coming. Who is sir Preston? How close was Preston to Ella's father? Close enough to easily recognize and remember Ella? Why are pigs so recurring when it comes about the trolls? There are many things that are teased to us once or are tiny motifs in the show that are not explained barely or at all.

Besides, the narrator seems to be someone of his own, not just someone in a fourth dimension who is there just to do a story-tell. WHO is the narrator? what is he telling exactly for the audience and for the story? old stories? created stories in universe? Is the show narrated in the way where they put us inside of the story and he tells from in universe or is he speaking between the story and the fourth wall? If fourth dimension, does he have the ability to be part of the scene and talk to the audience?

We know that the songs are like, canonically happening in universe thanks to “I really like that song!” / “the sings over.”, so, the whippoorwills (talking about the animals themselves) seem to do have a small mention in the show, which could lowkey indicate or imply that the band is in fact important, i mean, theyre the band. The band is playing the songs happening IN universe. The whippoorwills are birds known for their singing, but mostly because their sing is considered to be omen of bad luck and even death. These birds are told that they sing when they feel the bad luck, when they know the terrible will happen soon.

I made a post about this before cc even came out bc I saw that the band was called whippoorwills, and thinking about it, it COULD be that the band do, in fact, have a connection with the narrator, the band and him are part of the same whatever it is they are, likely along Ragweed too.

And let's not forget about the map Starkid gave us. The gave us a damn map of the Lands that Are ans with that they could bring us even more about this story or different stories. Everything could be connected, happening at the same or different times.

Oh, the ballads it must hide.

[weirdmorefics]

Hey, I really love all your stories and I was wondering if you could do an autistic!reader x Anthony Bridgerton and she’s his wife? You can have complete control over the storyline but it really makes me happy when I find reader x one of my fav characters and the reader has autism because I do too lol 💙

Autistic Wife! Reader x Anthony Bridgerton

Honesty Is A Trait To Love

Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 935

Summary- Reader is anxious over Anthony's Mother not liking her.

A/N- Thank you so much for the request I love writing Autistic characters because I am also Autistic and it makes me feel way less alone. All of my characters may come off as Autistic though because I always imagine myself as the character/reader LOL.

"I am quite anxious about Eloise's first ball while participating in the season. I do thoroughly love Eloise as my sister-in-law. I am however afraid she will not participate of her own free will." I say to Anthony as the maid tightens my bodice.

"I am sure she will be fine Y/n as long as you stop aiding in her mischievous plans to avoid ever being wed." He says back with a cunning smile.

I hold my hands up, "You have caught me. If it helps it wasn't all Eloise's idea to tell the seamstress we would not be attending." I sigh, "It's just these gowns and corsets are atrocious I swear they make them tight and itch all on purpose to torture women."

"Yes, Y/n I am sure it is all some big elaborate scheme to spite you," he laughs and walks away to prepare the carriage.

"I can tell by your laughter you are joking but I nontheless will take it as a statement of truth to prove my point!" I shout back as he walks away and more laughter follows suit.

My maid giggles, "Lady Y/n, you truly are the most humorous woman I have ever met."

"It was not my intent to be humorous," I frown. "Surely you must find these dresses a horror to wear?" I turn to ask my maid.

"If only I was so lucky to wear one Lady Y/N," she responds.

I frown then surely state, "Next time you can take my place and go to the ball with Anthony."

She laughs yet again while putting the finishing touches on my gown, "You are a such humorous young lady."

I sigh, put on a smile, and thank her before bidding her adieu.

I meet Anthony in the carriage and rest my head on his shoulder, "I swear no one gets me as well as you do Anthony."

"Good so no one can steal my beautiful maiden away from me," He says with a smirk.

I was about to make a smart remark back but before I can he makes a tactical maneuver by tickling me.

I am quick to wack his hands away, "Your Mother will kill us if we do not look pristine for this ball."

He nods "You are so smart maybe that's why I keep you around."

"You love me and you know it," I smirk.

"You are so right my darling," He smiles and kisses my cheek.

The carriage ride went smoothly after this and we arrived just on time. I link arms with Anthony which always strikes others as odd like why isn't the married couple holding hands but let me tell you linking arms is superior no gross hand sweat.

We also arrived inside the building just in time to see Eloise running away from her mother.

"Y/n please you must save me! You are the only women I know who does not buy into the magic of these events."

"They are quite tedious," I say in agreement.

Eloise's mother catches up and chastises me "Do not encourage her."

I am quick to apologize as she ignores me and drags Eloise away. "I swear your mother doesn't like me. I am really trying to win her over but I seem to make her uncomfortable... I make a lot of people feel that way." I sigh and twiddle my hands.

Anthony grabs my hands and assures me his mother will warm up to me and that I am an acquired taste whatever that means.

"I will talk to her, I can't imagine there is a single soul who doesn't come to admire you," he smiles brightly.

"Well I can name a ton," I start to list them and count them on my fingers.

"Fine darling some people will not like you. I mean there will always be people who see me as a rake. Do you see me as a rake Y/n?"

I shake my head rapidly " No of course not! If anyone ever said that I would give them a detailed list of why you are not!"

"See my dear that is why my mother will love you-"

"Why would that help my case I mean I am merely speaking the truth?" I interrupt him before he can finish.

"That is why I adore you Y/n you speak the truth fiercely and are so passionate about the things you care for. There are not many women who speak their minds preoccupied with finding a suitor and pleasing them. You I can trust to be honest with me and some people may find this strange at first but I am sure that everyone who got to honestly know you would never leave your side. My mother will come to see honesty is a trait to love and not fear it just takes time." He passionately rants about me and it makes me flush.

I am not quite sure what to say so I mumble a thank you. He chuckles at my flushed expression and kisses my cheek.

"No thank yous needed and is just how I feel, though the thank yous are certainly appreciated." His smirk turns into a full-blown Cheshire smile as my flush deepens to an all-time high.

"You are so easy to make flustered as well another reason I love you not sure if that is one of the reasons my Mother will love you though." He chuckles yet again but this time I try to swat him away as he points to my flustered face which just makes him laugh more.

[utilitycaster]

If you're still answering these I don't have any rpg characters to share but I do love veth brenatto. Any spare thoughts about my girl?

Hey! so. technically the deadline was last night, which I'm saying to stave off further ones - thank you, truly, and I will be here in 2026 with the same game for the midterms. But I'll do this one as the last one, because I have been thinking about Veth a lot.

Some of it is something I said for the ask this morning, namely, I love the non-D&D rogueish archetype - Silk in the Belgariad/Mallorean, Vin in Mistborn, the general vibe of the Crows in what I know of Dragon Age (plus Nadia Carcossa, Thedas's most annoying woman and an inspiration, may we all be her except that bit at the end except not the bit at the end where she survives the impossible, we should do that, just don't get tricked by demons) but I think D&D mechanics stifle what I like - independence and ingenuity - in exchange for "well, because you can kill someone so fucking hard, you can only do it under the sort of circumstances one generally encounters in ancient Welsh folklore." Arcane tricksters are a really good way around those dumb mechanics. And through her backstory and relationship with Caleb, her story really coheres - I understand why she is a rogue and why she has the skills she does.

But I think what I like most about Veth, and there really is a lot to love about her, is that, like all the Mighty Nein, her story is about figuring out her place in the world and what she wants - how, when everything seemed lost to her, it forced her out of complacency. Veth is interesting because she's one of the few Nein characters who had actively built something of a life and was conscious of losing it. And I think that's why in some ways she struggles the most to find what her new one is. At times I felt it was a lack of direction, but with some space I really think it's a commentary on how she did have, in some ways, more to lose, and how in its own way her story is no less about grief than Caleb's is. For all Veth jokes about Yeza possibly being dead, and hitting on minotaurs, I do think, because her childhood wasn't exactly pleasant but it wasn't as obviously traumatic as Caleb or Fjord or Yasha's, she wonders what would have happened had this all happened a few years earlier. I don't think she regrets her marriage or her family, but I think she wonders, and that's a story people do not tell much, especially about women from their perspective, and it's a fascinating one. I don't like indecision in characters and Veth is the rare character who makes it compelling, and that is a testament to how good a concept she is.

[kining-the-evil]

Hi omg I love your writing so much!!!!!!

I was wondering if you could please write a Jason Dean x little sister where she gets sick and he is the only one there to help her (cuz their dad is crazy).

Thank you and it is 200% your choice

Cough Syrup

/Summary/: you get sick at school, and Jd is the only one who can come an pick you up

•

/An/: thank you so much! I’m glad you like my writing! This is more of a Drabble but I hope you like!

•

/warnings/: vomiting, fever, fem!sister!reader, mentions of a shity dad, mentions of Jd and Veronica’s toxic relationship, soft!jd that may seem slightly out of character but i dong care, I like him being soft for reader

/heathers taglist/: Let me know if you want added!

Heathers masterlist All masterlists

Jason Dean really was having a shity day. For starters, you had been late waking up, throwing off his whole schedule and making you both late to school. And now Veronica was ignoring him. Again. Some bullshit he couldn’t even remember had made her mad, so now he had to think of a way to apologize without really apologizing.

He was staring off into space during 4th period when the school intercom called him to the office. While Jason was always happy to miss his language arts class, he worried slightly about what they wanted. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything recently that would warnt being called to the office.

“Jason Dean?” The main secretary questioned when he walked in. Jason had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes and nodded. “Phone call for you.” She held out the phone for him to take.

“Hello?”

“Is This Jason Dean?” A shrill voice asked.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m Mss. Daniels, I’m the nurse at Sherwood elementary. I have y/n here in the office, she threw up in class. I wasn’t able to get a hold of your father-“

“Does she needs picked up?” Jd was leaning against the wall in the office, glancing at the few people coming in and out of the office.

“She does. We were hoping you could get a hold of-“

“I’ll be there soon.” And he hung up the phone before passing it to the secretary. He quickly went to his locker before leaving the building to get to your school. Mentally, he wondered if you were actually sick, it wouldn’t be the first time you faked to get out of class. If you had he may tell you off for a bit, but ultimately he didn’t care much. School was a waist of time at your age anyways now that you could do math, read, and write.

All thoughts of you faking, however, were quickly gone when he got to the school and saw you. You were curled up on one of the chairs in the office, shivering slightly. You looked pale, and had a good layer of sweat covering you. He immediately felt like shit for yelling at you this morning. You must of felt like shit, and him yelling couldn’t have helped.

“I’m head to pick y/n up.”

“Are you her father?”

“Yep.” Jd easily lied to the women, knowing it would be easier if she thought that. He just prayed she thought he’d had you when he was really young. He had to sign a few papers before getting the ok to take you, in which he took your backpack and led you outside. Jd froze however when he realized he only had his bike.

“Do- do you think you can handle riding?” You were already leaning your body on his, eyes half closed, but you nodded.

“Ya…”

Your brother sighed loudly, he probably shouldn’t let you ride with him but your house was to far away to walk and he sure as hell didn’t want to leave his bike here. Maybe, if he’d thought ahead he could have asked Veronica…

“Can we Go?” You whined slightly, pulling Jd back to the present.

“Ya, Just keep a tight hold, ok?” When you nodded he climbed on, helping you on as well before taking off. Luckily, the ride seemed to go quickly and before you knew it he was pulling up to the large house you called home.

“Ok, why don’t-“ Jd was cut off when you practically jumped off of the bike and threw up in the flower bed. He cringed slightly at the idea of what the flowers would look- and smell, like after words, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he rubbed up and down your back, trying to comfort you until you were done.

“Finished?” He asked, earning him a nod. “Ok, let’s get you inside then. Go change and then come back down to the living room.”

“Ok.” And you disappeared upstairs while jd went on a hunt for everything he’d need. Some cough syrup, which would hopefully help since it was the only medication they had in the house, some extra blankets, a cool compression, and he even started some tea to bring out to you.

This wasn’t the first time Jd had to take care of you while you were sick. Hell, he’d practically been raising you since your mom died. He wasn’t even surprised that your dad hadn’t answered when the school called, he probably wouldn’t even notice you were sick. Asshole.

“Ok, I know it’s going to taste like shit but you’ve got it take it-“ Jd stoped when he didn’t see you laying on the couch like he’d expected. It had been a good 20 minutes, you should already be down here, maybe playing a tape you liked or listening to the radio.

“Y/n?” He called out, carrying the stuff up the stairs and checking your room. Nothing. Bathroom? Nope. Guest room? No. Finally he checked his own bedroom, which is where he found you.

You were curled up in his bed, eyes shut as you slept. His blanket was pulled tightly to your body, and when he got closer he recognized one of his shirts on you. He sighed slightly before shaking you gently. He didn’t want to wake you up, but he needed to see if this medicine would help or if he’s have to go to the story later.

“Come on, wake up.” He tried to be gentle, watching your eyes flutter open.

“What…?”

“Sorry kid, but you need to take this.” He held up the small cup of cough syrup. You reached for it, sleep making your brain foggy as you swallowed it. It wasn’t until after that you reacted to the taste.

“Gross.” You mumbled, handing the cup to him and hearing him chuckle.

“I know. But you can go back to sleep now-“ you grabbed his arm when he tried to stand up.

“Stay, please,” you whined.

“You’re going to make me lay in bed with you?” Jd tried to joke, but your eyes quickly filled with tears. “Hey! No, I was just joking. If you want me to lay with you I will.”

He quickly pulled back the covers to slid into bed with you. “See?” You seemed to calm down, cuddling into your brothers body with your arms wrapped around him as you drifted back to sleep.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - DD - May 9 & 11

I’m combining both of these entries into one since I have similar thoughts about both!

First off, yay we get our first time meeting Mina and Lucy!!!!!!!! And may I just say it’s great to see these girls being besties and chatting? You can tell just by the way they write that they have known each other a long time. Bram actually did a good job writing these women talking to each other. It feels natural and organic. Finally a “men writing women” moment where I don’t want to gag. I will still never get over the adaptations pitting these two lovely ladies against each other!! Why do we still feel the need to make them “compete.” Ugh :(

Mina’s Letter - I love how she starts right away with “forgive me for not writing you.” She already KNOWS Lucy is going to get on her for that, lol. Also her gushing about Jonathan is adorable and I love how she talks about writing to him in code. Those two nerds, they’re going to end me with their cuteness. Also, studying lady journalists to help with your journalism? What a queen doing that research. As she should! Again, it’s the bare minimum, but Stoker really did a good job with this one I must say. Seeing her be hopeful about Jonathan’s trip to Transylvania and the subsequent promise of seeing places like that together is a bit sobering. :( that is, until we reach her PS!

“You have not told me anything for a long time.” This line makes me want to laugh for some reason and I’m not quite sure why? Maybe it’s because I can hear a slightly scolding tone when she says it, or maybe because I can totally see me telling one of my friends this, especially to goad them into telling me the tea. Either way, it’s great.

“I hear rumours, and especially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man???”

I’m convinced Stoker read my texts or something because LOL that’s literally how I type! The idea of her writing “???” is adorable and I love it so much. Also by “rumors” does she mean Lucy’s mom? I’m pretty sure she means Lucy’s mom. I think it’s funny the first really descriptive thing we really hear of Arthur is his curly hair!

We can get a good glimpse of Mina’s personality just by this letter. We can already tell she’s genuinely excited to be married to Jonathan and help with his work. She is also very methodical, as she is thinking of several different ways she can practice her stenography and shorthand to help assist him. Like Jonathan, she does her research by reading up on how women in similar fields conduct their craft. She is obviously hopeful and in love with him, as she dreams of seeing new places with him after they are married.

However, she does not neglect Lucy in her missive! While her letter is mostly about Jonathan (which I assume is likely due to to Lucy asking after him and most engaged people do tend to talk about their fiancé — just look at Jonathan), she does take time at the beginning and ending of the letter to a) assure Lucy she misses her and b) tell her the latest news ASAP!! This shows that she deeply cares about her friend, even with her impending nuptials.

Lucy’s Letter - “I must say you tax me very unfairly with being a bad correspondent. I wrote to you twice since we parted, and your last letter was only your second.”

Yep, sure enough, Lucy gets on Mina for not writing to both of her letters (I do wonder if Mina answered everything that was in both letters…). Of course, it’s in a good-natured way and it gives me the same vibes as Rarity from MLP:FIM fainting into a couch or something and I am HERE FOR IT (for those who don’t watch the show, I genuinely mean this as a compliment. I love Rarity -- also I could probably make a whole post about Dracula characters as MLP characters, hmm…).

“Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really nothing to interest you.”

*Proceeds to list the hottest gossip* I love this girl so much. She has my whole heart.

“Some one has evidently been telling tales.”

Yep, definitely Lucy’s mom! I would love to see the letters between Mina and Lucy’s mom tbh.

Also when talking about Arthur, it’s so adorable because you can tell at first she only tries to sprinkle in a little bit about him, like “oh he’s just someone I met” and then it quickly morphs into “we met this guy who would be great for you” (Seward mention!!!! Can’t wait to meet everyone’s favorite pathetic wet cat /pos) to “I’m already picking up his slang and using his first name and did I mention IM IN LOVE WITH HIM????”

You can already learn so much about Lucy from this first letter. She’s sweet and caring to the people around her, lively about everything and a bit unsure about love (since she doesn’t quite know if Arthur loves her back). I looked up her age (idk if that counts as spoilers but I’ll tag this as such just in case) and she’s 19!!! This is exactly the kind of letter I would expect a 19-year-old to write to her best friend. I just love how excited she sounds, as she should!!! She’s a young girl in love, perhaps for the first time, and wants her best friend to know. I do love how she tells Mina “write back to me IMMEDIATELY with your thoughts.” Same, Lucy, same.

Back to Seward. It’s so funny to me that he wants to make a psychological study of her while staring straight into her soul and she seems to be chill with it!! Like she still loves Arthur, but she’s also not put off by Jack, either. He’s just got that neurodivergent urge to study her under a microscope and honestly, who can blame him? I can also see why Lucy would ship Seward and Mina together; obviously, I’m a diehard Jonmina shipper (and I’m pretty sure Lucy is too, she just likes chaos), but I feel like Mina and Seward would totally bond over train schedules and other nerd stuff.

So, to sum it up, I love both of these girls and their friendship so much and I can’t wait to see more of them!!! Eeeee

[starabsol]

cs pride headcannons

happy pride month! this is to the gays, lesbians, queers, transgenders, nonbinaries, bisexuals, everyone!!!!! (except homophobes, get away) happy pride month and good job being so fruity! we love u ^_^

ok so basically i have headcanons for my fav pokemon characters, may drew harley n solidad but i never really did much with them but since its literally pride month right now i thought why not draw them? theyre more like chibi attempted weird ass doodles butttttttt

first up, of course, our baby drew.

theres smth about him that just screams transgender.. hes ftm (female to male) since he didnt feel right in his body, but doesnt mind presenting himself in a feminine way. demisexual also because i dont feel like he randomly falls in love with people unless they know them well and have a good bond! and he obviously doesnt care about anyones gender whatsoever, doesnt have a preference either.

he goes by he/they pronouns and would rather not be regarded by feminine names, though he himself doesnt really care about how he appears to others

if someone comes out to drew:

someone: “drew, i have to tell you something.. im lesbian.”

drew: “thats nice”

drew is neutral about this stuff. he simply doesnt mind that much. though inside, secretly, he is pretty proud of whoever comes out to him; he does care.

next up, may!

may is an ally, no doubt. she loves everyone as they are! i debated making her asexual for a hot second, but scrapped it later as i didnt really liked that for her :P

she goes by she/her! she respects everyones pronouns, and if unsure if what pronouns to use she always uses they/them to avoid mis pronouncing. always shows up at pride conventions!

if someone were to come out to may:

someone: “may.. i have to tell you something. im non-binary”

may: “OMG THAT IS SO COOL I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU AND PROUD OF YOU!!!!”

next up, our cunty harley!

hes bisexual and non-binary. he loves both women and men, and simply doesnt give a fuck about (his) gender. he goes by she/he/they pronouns since he really doesnt care what people regard him as. “gender doesnt matter honey!”

he doesnt mind looking feminine or masculine at all, so sometimes u see him skipping around in skirts and the other moment you see him in a suit. and honestly? we love that for him. pop off harley

if someone were to come out to harley:

someone: “hey, harley? can i tell you something? im gay.”

harley: “OOOOOO! so proud of you honey! welcome to the gays!”

and lastly, solidad!

shes a lesbian. i dont care what you have got to say, solidad is a lesbian. she loves women, she loves feminine people. shes also aromantic because i can make her aromantic. she naturally loves platonically, but she can love (and feel) romantically, just not that often.

she herself is also an ally, of course, everyone in these headcanons are, but she is an ally. she supports everyone the way they are, no matter their sexuality, gender, race, background, whatever. she loves everyone. n that goes for may drew and harley also! solidad would probably be the most calm if you were to come out to her, though.

if someone were to come out to solidad:

someone: “solidad? i wanted to tell you that im bisexual..”

solidad: “oh, that’s wonderful! congratulations. i am so proud of you for telling me.”

———————

happy pride month! make sure to love everyone the way they are. love isnt a choice, neither the way you were born or how you feel in your own body! youre good as u are!

im pretty much questioning myself, i mean, im sure im aroace but beside that? no clue. for now id just say im heterosexual, but i havent really fallen for people romantically or sexually so i dont know at all lol

school still isnt over, still have about a month left 💔 i hate the netherlands vacation time so much only 6 weeks for summer break is crazy

[nicolesainz]

You are in love (CS 55)

Carlos Sainz x f!reader Summary: Carlos being the sweetest human alive, confessing how much he loves you, whilst having a chat with Lando and revealing past secrets Warnings: only damn fluff (inspired by ‘in between’ by gracie abrams and obviously ‘love story’)

"Man, I think you two have been stuck" Lando points to Carlos's arms with an eye roll following.

"What are you talking about?" Carlos was confused as he didn't understand Lando's supposedly joke.

"From all the honey dripping between ya" He lets out an annoyed tongue click and sips some of his coffee.

Carlos looked at me, wanting to hold back laugh and ready to respond to his friend with a snarky comment.

"I regret introducing the two of you. Well, it's all my mothers fault, so she's to blame" the Mclaren driver complains, scrolling through his phone, taking pictures of us.

"Remind me to thank her actually. I owe her for sending me to you. If it hadn't been for me moving to London, this may not had happen" I cup Carlos's cheeks, giving him a soft kiss.

"Well, it's Lando's mum and fate too! Maybe, well, not actually. I am sure our paths were aligned, that is why we found each other" Carlos holds me tighter and closer to his body, now on top of his lap.

"Since when did you become all cheesy and shit man?" Lando spits out, earning a giggle from me.

"You forget I grew up with three women in the house. Romantic stories, songs, books and movies were a Saturday traditions" Carlos explains as I envision a younger version of himself, sitting on the couch with his sisters and mother, watching movies which had happy endings between the main characters and my heart instantly fills up with sweetness.

"I think it's also because you are a lot in Italy. England hadn't gotten you this soft and sweet" Lando is true. Whenever Carlos isn't working but is still in Italy, we visit Tuscany and Verona. Carlos secretly wrote a letter to Juliet and stuck it in between the other letters, written by romantically helpless women. He still thinks I didn't see him, but I couldn't have a better vision of it.

Never in my life, had a man with such pure heart and feelings following it. Carlos is one of earths wonders and maybe fate did bring us together.

"Will it make you happy if I told you that he took me on a date to Bernabéu, so we could watch the semi finals between Real Madrid and Chelsea?" I say to the English man, with a smirk on my face.

"Did you? Cheeky man! Of course Real would be his first love. Sorry, Y/N, don't take this the wrong way" Lando burst out a loud laugh, holding his stomach.

"Please don't remind me of this day. I should have taken you somewhere else. I regret it" Carlos lowers his head and I still cant stop smiling. I raise his head, giving him a small pout and another kiss on the lips.

"You regret it because Real lost. Not because of anything else. Plus, I was an unlucky charm. My englishness erupted that day"

"And it's not true. I love you more than Real" he caresses my back and leans his head on my shoulder. I know he does. He has proven this more times than I can possibly count.

I can't think of a person I love more than Carlos. He brought me back to daylight after a really difficult period of my life and a heartbreaking departure of my ex boyfriend.

He had given me anything I could possibly ask for. He is an angel on earth.

"This is true. When I first introduced you too, not two months had gone by when he started asking me 'Is Y/N ever gonna visit again?', 'Will she attend another Grand Prix'. I was going insane. That's why I kept sending you tickets, hoping you accepted them. He wouldn't shut up"

Carlos may seem like tough and smooth on the outside, but on the inside he is the biggest sweetheart one can ever meet. So genuinely nice and humble. My heart stopped when I heard this part of the story I didn't know.

"You're not innocent either. You kept looking at his insta, asking me if he had a girlfriend or seeing anyone. Oh the nights I spent trying to convince you otherwise and praising him at your eyes"

My cheeks redden when Lando reveals this secret in front of Carlos. I don't really mind now that we are together. If we kept on hiding our feelings from each other, I would have felt embarrassed.

"Oh cariño! I only had eyes for you, since the moment we met. You took my break away and had to get to you somehow. All I knew was that I was determined to achieve this goal" Carlos exclaims, earning a childish giggle and grin from me.

Oh boy, I felt like a teenager all over again. Like the first time we met. My heart was fluttering as if I was jumping non stop on a trampoline. His words swooned me away!

“Being with you is the best choice I’ve ever made. Smartest, wisest and worthy of everything! I love you forever Carlos!”

My head is leaning on his chest, listening to the fast beating of his heart. I put my hand on my chest and the other on his, feeling the synchronicity of the two hearts.

It’s the most beautiful sensation in the entire world! Pure magic.

“Mi amor, I could never imagine a life without you. You are my life and hope you continue to be for years and years to come”

We share one final kiss before being interrupted by Lando once more

“I definitely ain’t third wheeling here, at all people! Please don’t let my presence interrupt ya”

Me and Carlos giggle, being removed from his lap but still holding hands.

Holding on to each other for as long as possible. Not wanting to lose one another.

[elderflowergin]

Hello, hi. I hope that you are well and I hope you don't mind me kinda rambling in your inbox. I see that you've watched The Double! May I just say as great as the show was, I think I have one niggling issue with it, maybe two. The og Jiang Li was forgotten in the end and not even her father mourned her for real - as much as I love that Xue FF got her justice, that poor girl died not knowing that she was loved. It would have been nice to see her father, at least stand by her grave or something to remember her. Then Wanning(poor girl best girl mean girl)! I hate that she died like that. There was no way she was ever going to concede power to man after the treatment she received in that other kingdom, I don't even think that she wanted to corrupt Sheng Yurong, but her trauma will not allow her to trust or yield to man for any reason and I am so curious as to why she trusted her brother to be emperor knowing that she detests men in high positions. Lastly Jiang Li's fake pregnancy ploy was beyond cruel, of course she had no context, but to Wanning, it was everything. I cried for her. My heart broke her. Despised by her own people after what she endured for them, maybe a a little madness is not unrealistic. I cried when she cried. Wept with her. I hope this makes sense. Anyway, wish the show had more space for all three of them. That's all.

hello hi anon! I’m good! And I completely agree with you - I didn’t write my concluding thoughts on the show here (I did it on twitter) but yes, real-Jiang Li never got her due, and XFF’s reveal to Jiang Li’s father gave short shrift to the girl who suffered for ten abusive, lonely years. And I don’t think redeeming Jiang Yuanbai was fair to Jiang Li’s righteous rage at her total abandonment - Ji Shuran may have been the agent of destruction, but she managed to commit all these horrors because Jiang Yuanbai was a lousy father and husband. This man’s negligence led to the deaths of two wives and two children! Crying for thirty seconds of screen time is not enough imho.

Wanning’s end was indeed gutting to watch, and the only point at which I was weeping too. She’s sacrificed so much for her kingdom and suffered far more than anyone can imagine, and yet these grand old men turn up their noses and avoid her because she didn’t wield a bow and arrow. No wonder Shen Yurong’s meagre gesture meant so much to her. My guess is Wanning did not have enough power to drive succession - the men around her don’t trust her or think of her as smart, including Lord Cheng and yes, the emperor, and she’s nothing more than an inconvenience to be handled. I think Lord Cheng only pretended better than their younger brother does, and I guess being full siblings close in age helped them build a bond.

The fake pregnancy broke my heart as well, and I know it was aimed at saving the Yan, but it was so cruel considering Wanning’s backstory. How much indignity did she suffer, my god, and for LI JING to loudly mourn her! Blech!

I have to admit that all things considered this was an incredibly entertaining show! I enjoyed so much of it, and I was especially surprised that I enjoyed watching Shen Yurong. I find TV misogynists to be very boring - how many different ways can you hate women, after all? - but he was a compelling character till the end, like layers of a rotting onion. I’m hoping someone picks up Wanning’s plot and writes something that does her justice.

Thanks Anon, for giving me an opportunity to talk about this inexplicably compelling show!

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hi!! This is my first time messaging a writer I really like but I’m high and have enjoyed your work for a while now and just wanted to share my appreciation especially after reading RAST. Sorry in advance for how unorganized this may look.

As a reader, I enjoy your story telling so much. You switch between past and present so fluidly and it makes the “world-building”feel natural while still keeping my interest and moving forward the plot.

I also wanted to compliment you on your ability to story tell so well while also staying true to the personality of the characters you write about. (I have specific examples I will detail later in this message from RAST because you did such a wonderful job of translating dynamics from the JJK universe into a Mafia AU)

I just wanted to share Little Details From RAST I enjoyed/made me really think

1.Grabbing Gojo’s wrist when he reaches for your skirt/panties happens both at the beginning and the end. I like how there’s a difference in Gojo’s reaction. The first time, he lightly dismissing your actions when he doesn’t have any genuine interest in you. The tension between Gojo in Ms. Gem later on is so telling because now Gojo knows all cards have been revealed and expects to be rewarded. It’s like when a dog finally gets their jaws on a toy and growls when you try to take it away.

2.(This detail I noted is an example of themes from the JJK universe translating well into your Mafia AU)In the JJK universe, there is definitely a patriarchal system in place which leads misogyny displayed in characters like Naoya. Your AU does a good job of portraying this culture as well from the start. It’s shared that the men of the organization don’t like women with “nasty attitude. It’s def implied that most men hold higher positions of power. It results in the events where we see other men laughing at Gem when she’s being groped by guards or being humiliated by Geto during his meeting.

3.(This goes for all your SatoSugu fics but especially in RAST) I love love love your characterization of Geto and Gojo. You’re very good at capturing personalities of characters but it’s especially clear in the SatoSugu fics you write because the dialogue is true to how they would speak to their darling AND eachother.

4.Through RAST, I was actually able to understand the personalities of Geto and Gojo in the manga better!It makes sense for Geto to be so controlled in personality because a controlled/calculating demeanor would only way for Geto to move up in ranks within the Yakuza and eventually meet and be on equal footing with Gojo. In the JJK world we see that Gojo really values Geto because Geto is on the same level as Gojo, but I forget that Geto must’ve clearly worked really hard to get to that level both in terms of skill and respect because he was born to a non-sorcerer family.With Gojo being apart of the sorcerer world/yakuza family by blood and always being reminded of how much power he has, it makes sense he would be so uncaring of social norms and so freely in Ms. Gem’s personal space.I can also see why, as you mentioned in another post, Geto doesn’t like to get his hands dirty, he’d be the type to see how to milk a situation for the most benefit rather than lashing out as Gojo would. (i.e. Gojo immediately throwing hands when the other yakuza family member touched Ms. Gem while Getou immediately seeing a chance to push Ms. Gem into their arms without a fit)

5. The car scene is actually lowkey funny bc they really do treat her like a pet on a road trip and ofc Gojo is the one watching cat videos lmaooo

7. You have this pattern in your writing (I like to think of it as a writer’s signature) of having questions by the reader go unanswered by the yandere while having phrases of affections by yanderes be barely acknowledged and I LOVE it. Every time I see it I eat it up because it’s so… akdjsjd

8. I love to see the SEM and EKM make an appearance in the last scene

Please correct me if any of my analysis in my thoughts are wrong and sorry in advance if that happens!! I truly enjoy the effort you put in as a writer

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

Here is my 6k word Umbrella Academy analysis on Season 1 Episode 1 "We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Funerals"

Hope you enjoy!

(Disclaimer: Spoilers for Season 1, 2 and 3. Some points will come off as a bit judgemental towards certain characters, but I truly like all of the siblings, this is simply my observation. You may not agree with everything, these are just my interpretations)

Episode 1: We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Funerals:

It is really sweet how the other women at the swimming pool are comforting Tatiana while and after she gave birth, bringing towels, petting her hair, holding her hand

It has been pointed out many times but I still love the foreshadowing to Viktor’s powers when Reginald is about to purchase him

I never thought about it but Viktor really practiced alone in the Theatre here. Wonder why. The lights were still on so maybe he just saw it as a good opportunity

Reginald dies late at night, Luther’s clock shows 23:28

When I watched this the first time, I immediately picked up on Luther's body hair growth, like with the wound, how he’s trying to cover it and later when he’s alone so I thought in retrospective that the trash bags are partially filled with hair

The weatherman says “little bit of rain potentially later in the week” and it does rain at Reginald’s funeral, which is only a few days after this! (As he dies on 21st March but Five comes back right before the funeral on 24th March) Great detail!

Diego really just snapped that guys neck

Allison's press photo shoot is apparently for Love on Loan 3, with the logo on the wall!

Allison never covers her umbrella tattoo, it is really visible

Allison looking really forced happy, right before a journalist says “Oh! You’re perfect!”

The poster “Recovery is not short and sweet, it is a lifelong process”

Klaus introduction scene and he already wears his headphones

He is immediately established as charming, people are laughing at his jokes, another off-screen person says goodbye to him. He seems well liked

No matter how many times I watch it I get said when the receptionist says “We’ll see you soon, Klaus”

Klaus-kisses-something count: 1. Object in question: the 30 day coin

Luther's chair on the moon, where the light hits the surface and making it look beautiful. Great hint at a later scene where Allison asks him about the moon!

Diego has no idea what normal is for a family. He throws the robbers against family photos, real family photos, not the annual paintings of the Academy. He throws knives, picks them up and they’re covered in blood. No clue that he looks just like the robbers, how is this family supposed to feel safe?

The transition from Allison leaving the press and looking over her shoulder to look at them one last time to Klaus looking over his shoulder as a police car with siren drives past as he makes his way to a dealer

Klaus-kisses-something count: 2. Object in question: drugs

Viktor looking at the news as Reginald’s death is pronounced. He says “Dad” and the photo on the news showing Reginald shows one of the Umbrella Academy group pictures after their Eiffel Tower mission. Watching that hurt, my heart aches for Viktor here

After the Eiffel Tower picture it shows another Academy picture, but this time with only five kids, hinting at Five’s disappearance

Reginald having lizard taxidermies and skulls

I never could quite make sense of the Academy emblem. An umbrella, a lighting bolt, a skull and a domino mask. And the motto is “Ut Malum Pluvia”, apparently translating to “When Evil rains”?

Shot to the sleep observation notebook. During my first watch, I didn't pick up that the numbers were representing the children, I assumed it were experiment numbers. I don't know what he wrote about Allison, but Klaus’s says “no activity for tonight”. So yay, probably means good sleep for him. I’m sure that line either hints at nightmares, OR, more likely, ghosts, that Klaus sees/hears in his dreams, which we get to see in later scenes. Ben’s says ‘seems to be crying in sleep’ which is just so sad, I want to hug him. And Viktor’s says “activity!!!” can't really make out the rest, but there are other posts transcripting the pages, but here’s another clue that Viktor has powers.

The Academy paintings. On the first one, they look a bit uncomfortable, but mostly okay. In the next, when Five is gone, they look so much more tense. In the next one it shows they hate this and they don't want to be here. They look really strained and depressed and angry at the last painting when Ben died

Diego comes out of the room where Grace is sitting, great hint for when it is revealed that he found the monocle on her

Allison didn't seem to be sure that Viktor would come “You’re actually here”. It is sweet how she welcomes him and says “forget about him” when Diego tells him “What are you doing here? You don't belong here, not after what you did.”

So far, Diego and Allison know that Viktor is there

Viktor says “Hey, Allison” while Allison says “Hey, sis”. Sis, our first nickname in this family

Allison can sure shoot one back, quite snarky and can be quite defensive of others, but in a good way. Shows by criticizing Diego’s outfit/leather harness underhandedly

Viktor really seems to be about to leave after Diego’s comment :( Good that Allison reassured him

So now Diego knows that Allison is there, Viktor and now Luther as well. “What's your secret? Protein shakes? Low carbs?” Diego seems well knowledged in health and fitness, later eating a raw egg and criticizing Klaus for using drugs “My body is a temple”. That's surely one way to cope. That is in complete contrast to what they did as children, with Five pointing out they used to snuck out to Griddy’s and Klaus saying they used to huff paint in the basement in season 3. That fact about Diego already shows here with this simple comment

Diego was the first to know Luther was there (beside Pogo, as Luther talked to him already and was told the monocle was missing. Already hinting that Pogo was involved in Reginald’s whole plan). And of course the first room Luther would go to was Reginald’s bedroom. But then again, it was Diego’s first goal too, with him already having checked it out

Diego pulling away the coroner’s report right as Luther was about to grab it because Diego was holding it out to him. Classic sibling behavior. From this moment I knew that any comment about “They’re not really a family, they’re strangers” is a blatant lie

Diego broke into the coroner’s office before this. He IS shocked that it is just heart failure but he accepted it. Luther, not so much

Diego says this about Reginald: “A sad old man in a big empty house, just like he deserved.” Now he is the one being told by Luther to leave.

Diego says to Luther “Whatever you say, brother.” Brother being so more distanced than sis

Reginald really had everything. Comics up top, a bit below that, a newspaper article but also a framed teen magazine cover

Viktor meets Pogo up next and they hug. Viktor got two hugs in one day, the other being from Allison

Grace calls Reginald “sir” in the flashback

In the flashback, Allison stands perfectly straight in the middle, in the left front we have Ben who is straightening his shirt and halfway already in the office. On the right front we have Klaus who is crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. In the left back we have Luther, who stands behind his siblings and in the exact same spot as in all the Academy paintings. Next to him is Diego, who has to stretch himself a bit to be able to look past Allison and at Reginald. In the left back is Five and behind him Viktor. When they are urged to leave, Viktor immediately makes his way back, Diego and Klaus follow suit and walk next to each other, next it Five and Luther puts his hand on Ben’s shoulder as they walk back. Allison has to be urged by Grace. She wants attention and it becomes apparent why she would become a movie star

Klaus meets Allison first, she’s the first to know he’s there, in Reginald’s office

Klaus really hasn't seen Allison in a long time it seems, but Allison is really happy to see him as she smiles at his antics. I really believe that Klaus is the “mascot” when it comes to dysfunctional family dynamics and for Allison, it really worked. For those that don't know what the mascot is: “This is the child who learns very early that laughter reduces tension and eases stress, and she or he responds to discord in the family by trying to lighten the mood through humor.”

Klaus immediately goes for the hug. Now Allison got two hugs too! The first she gave Viktor, the second she got from Klaus

Klaus really can lie quickly. He wasn't prepared to meet her there, it didn't sound like he had anything planned when he said that he wanted to meet her anyway, but that “I wanted to get your autograph” really came so quickly after that short pause. He could pawn it and says it in a flattering way.

He is so quick to divert from a question. Instead of answering Allison's question about what he’s doing, he goes for the “oh, we haven't seen each other in so long!”

But Allison points out the rehab wristband. She notices shit

Allison really seems concerned when Klaus says “I’m done with all that”, context being rehab

Klaus saying he only came here to convince himself that their dad is dead and Allison giving him a “really?” look. She didn't believe it for a second

When Klaus clasps “And he is! He’s dead! Yeees!” Allison shakes her head and grins. That was the moment she thought “Yep, he hasn't changed one bit, alright. Klaus is still Klaus.”

Klaus really changes in tone fast, from being cheerful and making jokes about Reginald’s death to angry about how they wouldn't be allowed to be in that room if he’d still be alive

Klaus puts his feet in the desk

Reginald has a photo of himself framed on a shelf, not just the painting behind him

“Get out of his chair” are the first words Luther tells Klaus after seeing each other again. Klaus has meet two people, Allison and Luther and Luther met Pogo, Diego and now Allison and Klaus in Reginald’s office

Interesting that Klaus wants to leave when Luther enters the room.

“Save the lecture” Oh, Klaus is so used to getting lectured

“You guys can talk amongst yourselves * chuckles softly*” He is so hinting at their teenage romance with each other

Luther knows Klaus took something, he isn't fooled by Klaus playing dumb

And Klaus looks around again if anyone is there before he pulls out the box. Don't let appearances fool you, he knows how to stay secretive

Klaus-kisses-something count: 3. Object in question: pearl-inlaid box

Luther is the one to say “Klaus is still Klaus” and Allison is the one to say she finds it comforting. Her life has changed so much, she has started to see that her actions have consequences and to see that some things from the past haven't changed? Yes, I can see her seeing it as a source of comfort. Luther does not give a response, instead redirecting to Diego. So he seems to be less comforted by Klaus’s lack of change

The bit about Diego wearing the leather harness in the shower will never not be funny

Luther AND Allison weren't sure if she’d come to the funeral. She really distanced herself from her past, huh

Luther says shit when Allison tells him that Patrick got custody. He knows how much Claire meant to Allison. Also, Luther swears. I see you, “Luther saying ‘Language!’” writers, but it’s not canon

Luther is quick to suggest Allison should use her power, but he is apprehensive at saying it out loud, indicating that he does know that it is not exactly good

Family meeting! Luther sits on the left couch, Diego on the left armchair, Allison on the right armchair and Viktor on the right couch. Luther seems the most comfortable, as if this were truly his home, Diego sits rather relaxed too, Allison sits straight, hands folded in her lap, Viktor wants to be comfortable but body language indicates that he isn't, he makes himself look really small

Allison has a drink

“None of you ever did that?” When Luther tells that he used to sit with Reginald by the oak tree. Diego looks away, probably thinking “Classic Luther”. At first I thought that Diego thinks that Luther is the favorite, but then I remembered that Diego later tells Luther he SHOULD be angry at Reginald for what he did to Luther, so I think he realizes “So he still thinks Reginald is good and doesn't realize how messed up it all was.” Also, Klaus immediately chimes in “Will there be any refreshments?” Before any of his siblings could answer that “None of you ever did that?” Question, which would just stir up all sorts of emotions. Robert Sheehan said in an interview once that Klaus is rather conflict avoidant and it shows. And again, another point towards him being the “mascot”

So Klaus has a drink, a cigarette and also a trophy?

Luther only points out the smoking, not the drinking. Because “Dad didn't allow smoking in here”. When did he establish that rule? I so want to know the history behind it

Allison seems to be so much more at ease after Klaus’s interruption

Diego knew Luther would still believe that it was murder. Viktor does speak up, using logic that the coroner would know. Allison also finds Luther’s suggestion ludicrous, she sees in that moment how Luther can't live without a mission anymore

“Quelle surprise” Klaus is the most likely out of all of them to use non-English words. French, German, Spanish is what I remember on the spot, I'll look out if he speaks any other languages

Also, Reginald communicated with Luther while on the moon

“Look, I know you don't like to do it but I need you to talk to Dad”. Everyone was aware that Klaus does not like using his power. Klaus even looks shocked at the suggestion, his expression saying “Me?”. Allison scoffs as if she knew “Yeah, not going to happen” or couldn't believe that Luther would bring it up, especially in the context that she thinks that Luther is out of his mind with suggesting it was murder

Resentment slips through when Klaus says “Hey did could you stop playing tennis with Hitler for a while and take a quick call”

Luther doesn't even think about the possibility that Klaus wouldn't be able to do it. “That's his thing”. Luther does NOT know why Klaus started using drugs,for which we’ll get even more evidence for in episode 7 when he says he wants to be Number Four because he seems so carefree. Also Diego looks away when Luther says it, maybe because Luther still puts so much focus on their powers, just like Reginald

Everyone except Diego is so shocked and surprised when it’s revealed that Luther thinks one of them killed Reginald. There was definitely some baseline trust in each other

“Way to lead” Diego rubbing salt into the wound because he knows Luther thinks himself the leader of the group. It definitely strikes Luther, so it worked

All of them work out without another word, except Klaus who tells Luther he’s crazy. Even Allison, whose glass is now empty

Flashback to 17 years ago. They were 12 here and it’s 2002. Five disappeared about 16 years and 5 months ago, so he was only in the public for about 7 months

News Reporter is Jim Hellerman from the news station Channel 2 News

A S.W.A.T team is already at the bank robbery

Bank is Capital West bank at Main at Sixth

The Umbrella Academy only made their entrance at this bank robbery roughly three hours after it started

I love this scene so much. Allison so confidently walking up to the robber, Luther running on the roof and people believing it’s law enforcement, jumping in through a window from the ceiling, immediately hitting a guy and throwing him out of the bank through another window. That's a lot of windows they’re destroying. Diego’s knives land straight in that guy's chest

What did Jim Hellerman do to have been in many hostage situations? Is The City just like that? Is it like Gotham, where crime is just that rapant?

The robber from the beginning is standing on top of the counter, pointing his gun at the kids and calling them freaks. Diego, Allison AND Klaus are standing in front of him. I have never noticed that Klaus was standing there too before this rewatch. Luther is standing by the hostages in front of the vault.

The kids are trolling that guy. Diego saying “Be careful up there, buddy” Allison responding “Wouldn't want you to get hurt.” Five also has this humor with “That's one badass stapler.” He is so youthful here

“Do we really have to do this?” Ben, I want to hug you. He does not want to do this. He first looks at Luther (remember when Luther was the one to guide him away from Reginald’s office?) and then at Klaus.

“*Sighs* I didn't sign up for this” Did I say I want to give Ben a hug?

Five seems intrigued by Ben’s… tentacle massacre and then looks at Klaus, maybe because of the possibility that new ghosts could appear?

“*Sighs* *breathes shakily* Can we go home now?” Voice trembling, covered in blood, I am calling CPS, nothing will stop me, I will enter this TV show just to pull Ben out of this

They come out and are already posing, they trained for this moment. Luther is holding a hand up, Diego is showing off a knife, Allison is standing straight, Klaus is leaning on Five, Five is als standing straight, hand behind his back. Ben is covered in blood and looking down

They were so sheltered and given so little free time, so little time to discover who they are, this bank robbery mission for which a S.W.A.T team was called and ended in Ben being covered in blood made Viktor say “Why can't I go PLAY with the others?”

Reginald comes into the picture and Luther is again at his exact same position as always, at the top left.

Some other news stations: WURG, CNR, Channel 9 News

Interesting how they wear their scarves. Luther, Five and Ben all seemingly wear their scarves tucked into their coats, Allison wears hears pretty fashionable with one side hanging out to the front, Klaus’s hangs off to the side on one end while the other falls off over his shoulder behind his back and Diego literally just put it around his shoulders, didn't even wrap it around his neck. No wonder that guy later refuses to use an umbrella during the funeral.

End of flashback, back to Klaus trying to conjure Reginald. Looks like he just took off his shoes. Klaus seems to focus so much on the point that they weren’t related. Earlier with him that Reginald wasn’t their real father so they couldn't inherit his cold dead eyes, now with “[...] my sons, adoptedt(!) sons”. It really makes sense that he wants to seek out his birth mother in season 3, he already puts a lot of focus on it in season 1.

“Big angry ghost lecture” again with the lecture, Klaus is used to getting lectured.

"Eternal peace is probably overrated” they kept that in season 3 when he talks with Rachel, his mom, in The Void. Klaus is so interesting, he has seemingly no long term goals, lives fully in the present moment, but is haunted by his past and also thinks the future is shit (as shown when Five reappears and tells them about the future “Called it!”)

Klaus calls Reginald “Reggie”

Diego and Klaus think very similarly of Reginald. Diego uses “paranoid”, “sad old man”, “monster” as words to describe him, Klaus says “stubborn bastard” and “sadistic prick”. No wonder they get along so well

Allison truly is a girlies girl, they recreated that early 2000s girls room PERFECTLY. That little thing to hang up jewelry, the bright colored nail polish, another container for other accessories, teen magazines, posters, kitchy notebooks and decor, those pencils that aren’t even sharpened yet, the one with the thin plastic wrapping that gets everywhere once you do sharpen them and with the cutesy eraser on top which more destroys your paper and smears the writing all over it instead of erasing it. Huuuh, the 2000s

Klaus is now in the basement kitchen. This is where Leonard and Viktor will enter from at a later point (I’m pointing this out because whenever I watched that scene I never knew how they were suddenly in the house, I assumed it was a shop because it didn't look like the house, now I know). There is a table football and a couch and an e-guitar, which Klaus will later hold right when Diego will announce that he’ll leave

Klaus has another drink. And just took drugs, three to be precise. He seems to be not doing okay. “Three? Okay” to which he laughs but right after taking them he seems very sunken

Diego is a knuckle cracker and fidgets with his knives

I think it’s really sweet how Luther wants to make them all feel connected and cheer them up after ruining the mood. Maybe he already realized here he was too harsh. He did turn up the volume to max, he knew what he was doing with putting on the vinyl here. And he is already feeling the music, moving his hands and head

Luther is a record enjoyer, Klaus is most often seen with his tape player (though he also has a record player in his room. I assume that tapes are just more mobile and he can listen to them anywhere).

This dance scene was what made me fall in love with the show

Diego closes the door before he pulls off his A+ performance.

Allison springs onto and off beds

Five begins to reappear, metal things get pulled away. Reginald’s urn almost falls off the table before Klaus catches it. Klaus also says “Daddy?” Sure, we know that ghosts don't manifest like this. But Klaus has been trying to conjure Reginald, his abuser, so it is reasonable why he’d think that Reginald might appear after all, especially when he isn't fully sober and already not doing that good mentally

Luther is the first to put some scientific reasons on the big blue ball in the sky

Diego calls Luther “Paul Bunyan”

When the electricity intensifies, Luther and Diego are quick to pull Klaus behind them. Luther says “Everyone get behind me”, he clearly sees himself as their protector. Diego says “Yeah, get behind us” he sees himself also as their protector, he has some respect for Luther in the sense he looks up to him, wants to be equals rather than Number Two

“I vote for running” Klaus showing conflict-avoidance again. Or self-preservation instincts depending on the viewer

I like how Klaus is the one to say “Does anyone else see little Number Five or is that just me?” With him already seeing things that no one else does. Also, Klaus uses Five’s full name, Number Five instead of just Five

Klaus is rubbing his show and mouth a lot. Could be a nervous tick or could be experiencing dry mouth from the drugs

Viktor and Five used to be close, Viktor being the one to give Five the date and Five remained rather calm when he just said the day when he asked for the exact date instead. He has a lot more patience for Viktor

Five did that a lot, walking towards someone only to blink with Luther saying “Haven't missed that”

Five has seen a lot. He says that the future is shit so resigned. He says he should have listened to “the old man”, putting the blame on himself

“That makes no sense” “It would if you were smarter” Diego immediately stands up, Luther immediately holds Diego back. He will later do this again when Diego is angry at Five when Patch was killed. Luther is all about preserving the peace between them, that's also why he put on the record

“Nice to know Dad didn't forget me” Five does not seem to see the harm Reginald has done to them but based on that line, I believe that in the apocalypse he thought often about how their dad would probably see him as a failure now, since he did what he was told not to do and couldn't even go back. All of them still call Reginald “Dad”

I’m just imagining old Five saying “ballsy”

Viktor full on believes his whole family hates him

Five responds with that there could be worse things. Worse things being that they’re all dead like what he had to go through, already implicating that he doesn't care what his family thinks of him and his actions just as long as they’re safe

Klaus is smoking another cigarette

Pogo says “dear boy” to Luther

Klaus grimaces when Luther pours out the ashes. Could be interpreted in a number of ways. “Oh that wasn't great.” “The old man will not like that.” to throw out a few

Diego’s anger continues to brew as his face twists and and looks up away from Pogo when he asks who wants to speak. The words are already forming for him

Klaus is keeping his feelings about Reginald bottled up, going straight back to his cigarette

Diego begins to look over again when Pogo says “[Reginald] was my master”. Strengthening his feelings about how they weren't children to Reginald, how he saw himself as above everyone

Allison looks down and seems annoyed when Diego says “My name is Number Two” in response to her calling him out. She probably thinks back to Ben’s funeral, where he wasn't all that different. “Classic Diego”

Viktor also cares about Mom. When he first entered the Academy, he said “Mom?” As soon as he saw her, here he says “No, it’s okay, Mom” when she asks if they’d like something to eat. He also thanks her in a later flashback when she compliments his music and is against shutting her down

Allison already notices that something is not right with Mom “Is Mom alright?”, Which explains why she would be pro powering her off

Diego really out here pulling the string cards with calling Luther “Number One”. Luther probably saw it as an offense towards him, but I think Diego said it more as to “Look, he didn't even gave us names! He gave us numbers”

Luther does no go down to that level, still calling Diego “Diego” but he is the one to start the physical fight

Diego calls Luther “big boy” in the fight. Twice

This time, Klaus is all for the fight, chanting “Hit him!”. He did laugh at Diego’s proclamations about their father

Allison seems so disappointed and also resigned in those two when they destroyed Ben’s statue in the “They never know when to stop” sense

This time, Viktor does not back down when Diego says “Got enough material for your sequel yet?” He does not let Diego get to him

Klaus really makes sure that everyone is gone before he says his words to Reginald.

Putting out your cigarette in your abusers ashes in the ultimate “Fuck you” move and nothing will ever top it

Reginald’s quote in the flashback to one of their training days basically boils down to “You are stronger together than on your own.” In the bank robbery flashback he says in response to if he cares about their well being “Of course. As I am for the fate of the world.” I think he knew that an apocalypse would happen but I don't believe he knew the cause. In a later flashback with Luther and Allison in the greenhouse, he isn't angry about them spending time together, he’s angry that they do it outside of their schedule

This is where Diego’s fear of needles comes from, getting their tattoos

Klaus and Allison already got their tattoos, Diego is currently getting his done, so they’re out of order. I thought maybe the last one got theirs first, the first one to make it to the top gets theirs last but Diego was right behind Five on the staircase race. But maybe Luther and Ben managed to overtake him?

I just think it’s really sweet how Klaus is holding Allison in his arms as she’s sobbing while he is also still distressed and in pain from his own one. He cares

Diego doesn't even let himself be comforted by Mom

Luther also seems so agitated about being next, he tries to hide the fear but isn't successful

Ben tries to calm himself down but he’s pretty nervous and as is Five

None of them had any fun here

Reginald raises them by the rule “You are stronger together than alone”. But completely excludes Viktor from all of this. Of course he’d feel isolated. But it also means he sees these terrible things happen to his siblings, like the bank robbery mission and tattoos, and sees it as a game, as a group activity that he is left out of. I do believe he’d take the pain if it’d meant he’d be one of them

It is so freaking creepy how Reginald will just sit on their beds while they sleep and put on the electrodes.

I first thought everyone had their own color for the cables, but some are clearly used twice. Luther has blue, Allison yellow, Viktor’s is white which is a great hint as his comic code name “The White Violin”, Klaus is black (shocking for the guy whose powers revolve around death), Five is red since it’s coming from the staircase leading up top but no idea which colors Ben and Diego are

Luther sleeps on his side, Allison sleeps half on her back, half on her side, Five sleeps on his stomach, Viktor sleeps on his back

I think this is the first time we see Viktor use the pills? Could have sworn it was earlier but I don't think so

Viktor takes his pills and goes back to his earlier mind set, when he did think Diego was right, he shouldn't have come

Viktor really cares about others. He cares about Mom, he tells Pogo to take care of himself, he later compliments Helen

“Dad hated caffeine” “He hated children too and he had plenty of us *laughs* *immediately stops and grows serious*” Again, a sudden mood change from Klaus when talking about their father. Also, it’s really sad how Klaus is telling the truth here, because Reginald literally says in season 2 "I have a deep dislike of children. I do not have them, nor do I intend to have them". So Klaus seems to have a good idea about how Reginald truly was. Rehab did seem to have some effect

Klaus peaks up when Five says he’ll get in the car. Like he knows that Five is in a 13 year old body, so he isn't legally allowed to drive. But he is also so curious.

Klaus is also barefoot. Good reference to his comic version, where he can only use his psychic powers when he isn't wearing shoes

I love that Diego’s and Allison’s love language for each other is roasting. “See you guys in, what, 10 years when Pogo dies” “Not if you die first.” “Yeah, love you too, sis. Good luck on your next film”. We got our first “love you”! Aaand it was 100% sarcastic. Also, Diego calls Allison “sis”!

That “Hope it turns out better than your marriage” comment hit hard for Allison, she immediately left after it

Even though Diego is a pretty health and fitness focused guy, he still takes out one mini marshmallow from the bag that Five left out earlier when he made his sandwich

Diego’s face when he’s in the car and Klaus enters. That screams “Not this again let me have one second in peace”. Diego is used to Klaus but not to his antics. But he doesn't throw him out

So, Viktor left, Klaus knew about it, Five and Allison where in the room when he announced it, Five left with Klaus and Allison still in the room, Diego entered, Allison left, Diego left, Klaus left, Luther saw Klaus and Diego leaving in the car

I love Grace, great character. Often robots in fiction are said to have their own agency, but this show really questions that narrative. Does she? Or is it her programming. But here when she looks at the paintings she mimics that woman in the painting, looking at her with longing and awe. It looks like she wants to be that free, go see the places in those paintings which she never got to do under Reginald

Five’s forced smile at Agnes reminds me of his comic version

Five could have gone anywhere to get a coffee but he chose Griddy’s. A place with memories. Good memories. With siblings he cares so much about. Siblings which he saw dead. “Simpler times”. I think Five thought a lot about them in the apocalypse. Regretted some of his actions. “Shouldn't have done this” “should have done something” “should have said something” “should have told them”. All those should have’s.

On the side of Griddy’s is a sign with “Dunfield Plaza” and next to it is another sign with other shop names. Those being “Dry cleaning”, “Astro Typewriter” and “Grand Mutual” and under it is another LED sign with “Warton’s convenience 24h”

Five’s fighting speaks for itself

Five didn't finish his coffee

Diego is holding the monocle above the water, thinking about Luther’s words. He is conflicted about clearing Grace’s innocence with dropping it. He knows something is up with it. But he also wants to protect her

First time Klaus is referring to himself as “we”, with we meaning Ben and him

Here we have the scene that led to fanfic authors making Klaus obsessed with waffles. Despite “You like waffles?” “Of course you do, everyone likes waffles” and Ben even nodding. But that’s the curse of a character mentioning liking a food once

Diego had the police radio on his car hood so he’d here if something came up

Klaus does drum rolls

Klaus knows about Diego’s vigilante activity “breaking bones and cracking skulls?” which does sound rather negative. He doesn't seem to be in favor of it. Comes with them being raised to kill and him seeing corpses that have broken bones, pieces of them missing, etc.

Diego responds with “Saving lives, baby”

“I guess it’s frozen waffles again” I hope you don't eat them frozen /j

“I could do egg and bacon but I’m trying to cut down on my pig products.” I am leaning myself out of the window and throw a wild suggestion out: Could be interpreted as a hint towards Dave. Dave is Jewish and pork is not kosher

Diego is putting on the mask in the car

“You are so weird” Viktor to Five. Another peak sibling behavior, love it. You have each other back not even a day but you are already back to being siblings

So Viktor knows Five was attacked and that the world will end

“I’ll put on a pot of coffee” Miniscule detail, but he couldn't have known that Five wanted coffee since he already left when Five was searching for coffee in the Academy which led to him driving to Griddy's. I guess the usual person would say “I need a drink” when they find out “The world will end in 8 days” BUT Viktor takes medication, so coffee is probably the next best thing, especially since the day has already been exhausting

And there we go! First episode over!

[littlewomenpodcast]

Little Women Inspirations: Friedrich Schiller (With Hejar Sinem) Part 4

Niina: What you said about Schiller made me wonder if Schiller was the one who Friedrich was named after in Little Women, or maybe it was Friedrich De La Motte Foque? I have a feeling it might have been Schiller.

Sinem: Yeah, me too. Yes, that's of course my own theory, but like I said, I also think that besides Goethe, I think Schiller also may have had an impact on Louisa, because in The Robbers, I think it's called, in Schiller's first novel, there's a female character called Amalia, I don't know how to pronounce her name in English, but she is very sweet, very generous. She is like Beth, she is very kind and giving and generous, and she only wants the best for everyone. So I found some parallels between Schiller's work and Louisa's work.

Niina: That's really interesting. What was the name of that book?

Sinem: It was called The Robbers. It's his first novel, he wrote that one when he was 17.Suppose he was not allowed to write at that time, I forgot why he wasn't allowed, and I think it's funny that he made a story that is close to Louisa May Alcott’s Blood and Thunder stories, and the main character Karl is very much an archetype of the movement that was around in Germany at that time.

Niina: I was just saying that in Rose In Bloom, Mac reads Goethe, but I realized he doesn't read Goethe, he actually reads Henry David Thoreau. In Little Women, there's a moment in part one where John translates a poem from Schiller to Meg.

Sinem: Yes, that is very cute, and it's also very funny, because John also knows German, and it's also funny if you think about it, it's like the whole March family is very interested in German culture. I think Meg was also very eager to hear the translation a bit, and John was also like, Yeah, I'll help you translate it, or I can teach you with German, I think he said that, I'm not sure, but I think he said that, and it was also very sweet.

Niina: Yes, I have forgotten about that, I love it. It kind of goes along with my theory that Louisa May Alcott planned Jo's marriage years before she wrote Little Women, because it does feel like a natural thing to do, to introduce a German character to this family that is really obsessed about everything that comes from Germany.

Sinem: I have to say, the first thing that comes to my mind when I see people saying Louisa was forced to marry Jo off is, well, but what if she was forced? Why in the world would Louisa May Alcott write so many things about Jo’s and the March family’s love for Germany?

Niina: I think we can all agree that this really comes from that the quote that she wrote in her journal was about reuniting with her loved one in the afterlife, so Little Women is a wish fulfillment.

Sinem: Yes, that's true, when people read it, I think it's also kind of racist of them to state that he was shoveled into the novel, because, I mean, they know Friedrich is German, and it almost always feels like they dislike him, especially because he is German, even people today are like, meh, she should have stayed single or with Laurie, which, to be honest, I can't stand either. I could never stand the thought that Jo might have ended with Laurie or alone, especially after reading the chapters All Alone and Surprises, because in these two chapters, you can see how lonely Jo is, and then there are people who say she only married Friedrich because Friedrich was invented, because Louisa May Alcott was forced to marry him.

Niina: I think you are correct about the racism, because I have read so many Louisa May Alcott studies that are like, Jo should have married Laurie or Jo should have been alone. There usually is a racist undertone when they start to speak about Friedrich's character, and then they do not include these parts in Little Women, where Jo clearly loves everything that comes from Germany, or Louisa May Alcott’s adoration to Germany. In Rose in Bloom there is a Chinese character, and he marries an American girl.

Sinem: She made him marry an American because it shows how inclusive she is and while I know that many people are like, well, yes, but Louisa May Alcott had something against the Irish, while I can read a bit of it in their novels, we don't know what happened to her.

Niina: I think it was a common at the time to mock the Irish people, unfortunately. I spoke with someone who was working in the Orchard House, and they said that it was really more about the effect of the time period. I don't know. Yeah, Irish people don't really get a good reputation in Little Women, because when Amy's limes are thrown into the snow, they are the Irish girls who are picking on her.

Sinem: We don't know. But it's also kind of funny, because Hannah herself is Irish, and Hannah is portrayed in a good light, though. I agree with you. I think it is more like the effect of the time, because, I mean, if Louisa May Alcott included Chinese and Asian characters in one of her novels, had this person marry an American, and it was portrayed as a good thing, then why should she be completely against the Irish? Since Hannah was portrayed in such a good light.

Niina: I think it's the same with the Italians, because on one hand, we have Louisa May Alcott, who shows what she considered good qualities of Italians, and maybe the less good qualities, but there was lots of hate against Italians at the time period. So it's quite remarkable that Laurie is half Italian in the book, and Germans were also really disliked during this time period in America, in certain circles.

Sinem: I also think it's very important, the way Mr. Lawrence is actually portrayed. He's a very kind and giving and lovable person, but he has a flaw, in part one, we learn that his son married an Italian and he was against it. Mrs. March states that he never could like the lady, even though she was very kind and loving, and overall a very nice person, and Mr. Lawrence couldn't like her, even though she was very kind to him and all that stuff, simply because he represented, the culture or the society around that time.

Niina: If Mr. Lawrence was raised in an environment where there is lots of pre-consumption against Italians, then he would be part of that kind of generation that sort of automatically sees them as lower than he. It sucks, but that's the way a lot of people are, even still today.

Sinem: Yes, sadly, but I also have tosay, I really love how Louisa May Alcott made the interracial marriages in Little Women work so well. Whenever I read those passages between the couples, except for Meg and John, they are both American, they are still a lovely couple, though, but whenever I read them, I love the way Louisa May Alcott writes these couples, Amy and Laurie, and Jo and Friedrich, because it really gets lost in all of the adaptations. I think the only couple which gets marriage time, is the one between John and Meg, only because Meg is the first one to marry, I assume, but then, the movie-makers all like everything is about Jo and Laurie, and it doesn't feel right,

Niina: Because that's not the way things happen in the novels, and because Laurie is partially based on Laddie Wisniewski, and the more I have read about Louisa May Alcott’s relationship with Laddie Wisniewski, it more and more feels like a mother and son relationship.

Sinem: Little Women would not have been the masterpiece, as I call it, if Jo had ended up with Laurie, because first of all, Louisa May Alcott based all the characters around someone she loved, who she cared about, and it would not have been right for her to marry Jo and Laurie, because Laddie is one of the inspirations for Laurie, and she did not end up with Laddie and I don't think it will work, because I know it's only semi-autobiographical, but it would not have felt right, because in the proposal scene, which I rather call the harassing scene, in that one you see in the novel, of course, only, because why would the movie-makers do such a wonderful thing, they very much don't show that in the movies, Jo really, talks to Laurie, as if he was her child. She's like, you will meet an accomplished woman, you sensible good boy, and all that stuff.

That is really there, and the movie-makers just don't use it. Okay, the movie-makers, for me, are more likely to be after the money, because Little Women is such a beloved tale, but that's another thing.

Niina: I agree, and we will get into this chapter soon. Throughout this chapter, Jo refers to Laurie and Amy as children.

Sinem: Yes, that is also very cute and funny, and it also shows that Joehas always been much more mature than Laurie. I can't say whether she was more mature than Amy, after Amy grew up, but I think it shows that, while Jo is a free spirit and independent and, I will not say egoistic, but sometimes, she says, I only want to do things for myself. She cares very much about herself, and she also respects herself very much, and I love that she calls them children, because, first of all, it's cute, second of all, it shows that she is very much mature.

Niina: I think in part one of Little Women, Jo is more egoistic, but so is Amy, and so are Meg and Laurie, because they are teens, and when you are a teenager, your life pretty much centers around yourself.

Sinem: Yes, that's true. I also have to say, I really love how Jo evolves in the end, because many people are like, she was such a feminist in the first book, and then in Good Wives, or part two, as I call it, they are like she is so anti-feminist, and she's very man-loving, that's not the Jo we love blah blah blah, and then I'm like, I think the toxic masculinity of Jo shows even in chapter three, when she goes to Laurie, when he's sick, and she's like, why don't you invite somebody so you have company, he says, well, I don't know, the boys are too loud, etc., and then she's like, well, then why don't you call a girl, because girls are quiet and they like to play nurse.

Niina: I see what you mean.

Sinem: I get why people would fall for the idea that Jo is a feminist in the first part, but that is not the case, she loves men very much, she idealizes them, and she thinks it's a shame to be a woman, and that is the complete opposite of what feminism is about. I think it's very important that we study it, and later parts, when, for example, Laurie, her sister, and all of Beth’s deatH and twins birth, Jo grows to be a feminist, because she accepts that having feminine empathy, feminine kind of interests, isn't a bad thing, it's more a bad thing to be everything female is bad, and everything male is wonderful.

For Beth fans @fandomsarefamily1966

@princesssarisa

[dreamwreaver]

One of the things I wonder, "Why didn't Viv make Valentino, Velvette and Vox a polycule?" Like, they're all horrible and perfect for each other so what gives? Villain polycules are incredibly interesting, it's a shame the show didn't jump on it because apparently it's only Vox and Val in a relationship while Velvette is just in the background. Poor girl didn't even get a verse in the song, does she not count as the Vees? I heard somewhere that Viv said they couldn't afford her VA or something among those lines. Really frustrating how Velvette is just shoved to the side by not only the show but also by the fandom by making her Staticmoth's adopted daughter.😒 Geez, can't a grown woman hang around men older than her without being considered their "daughter?"

Charlie and Velvette should start up a "adult women who the fandom forces father figures on them" (and may or may not be fucking said father figure/s) group.

Lmao, they really should. As for affording her va... I mean they got her to sing respectless so I'm not sure that's a good excuse if true. Then again this might be what happens when you hire all Broadway talent instead of professional vas. Not that some of them (Alex brightman, James Monroe Ingleheart, Jeremy Jordan) don't have experience as Voice Actors, but you get a lot more mileage out of an actor who can do a ton of character voices and sing.

Ngl, the Vee thing isn't really my forte, it's not that I don't like them I'm just consumed by Charlastor brainrot to the point where I don't really think about them much. Imma pass the torch to my friend and resident Vee expert @yugiohhetaliadork

[utilitycaster]

1. Why do you like or dislike this character? - Percy and/or Keyleth?

I like both of them, so:

I like Percy for the surface reasons of intelligence and witty comebacks and the general Taliesin Jaffe Arrogant Guy Is Confidently Wrong About Many Things reasons, but more specifically I like how incredibly aware he is of social structures and doesn't dismiss them as stupid or fake or meaningless just because he is aware how much artifice is involved. I love how much he validates Vex in this, as someone who's been on the other side of that social divide most of her life and who knows she "shouldn't" care but does, deeply. It would be so easy for him to say "look, titles are stupid and fake, I should know, I have one," but instead he says "no, I see what this means to you, because yes it's all an accident of birth and yes it is kind of stupid and fake, but it's also the reason why you lived rough for your teens and early 20s, and you are not silly for wanting this security." I also think he's a great exploration of guilt and of someone who has a lot of complicated feelings from the gods but does value their counsel; we don't get a lot of characters with that sort of nuance. His scene with the Raven Queen remains a standout for me and for all he can be melodramatic and obnoxious at times, he is also like 25, traumatized, and should be at the club. I think the question he answers (why would someone invent the gun) is an interesting one, and I think the way that his story ends up with the obvious inevitable happening and yet he still finds happiness is unexpected and wonderful to see.

I like Keyleth for a lot of reasons people will probably be annoyed about, which is...she is annoying. Annoying women: may we know them, may we be them, and may we raise them. Anyway, I think her terror of doing the wrong thing at the cost of doing anything sets up a fantastic arc for someone who is expected to become a leader. I admire how she knows she's not the most eloquent and is scared of her responsibilities but does not back down from speaking up when she disagrees with the party. I like how she's perhaps the only example of lifespan angst that is actually portrayed as making a lot of sense, especially since she is also extremely young (probably shouldn't be at the club given the bar crawling results. She should be at ZooLights and have like, one cider.) I think in general her fears are incredibly real and make sense for the character and shape her, and that's not something you see portrayed with this amount of depth very often. I stuck with the VM-era portrayal of Percy but I will say I especially love how Keyleth is portrayed in Campaign 3, because Percy hasn't changed a ton in adulthood, merely mellowed out a little, but Keyleth very much has as she's grown in confidence, as she was only at the beginning of that during the Campaign. I think her relationship with Vax is incredibly good for both of them; her sense of belonging to a place and his ability to support. I do like that she gets angry, especially after so much time being insecure, but I feel much has been made of her anger and I don't have a ton to add there, and also while I like that she is angry and expresses it, there are other characters I gravitate to for that specifically. Also I have incredible respect for her having to take on a much bigger magical burden than expected; I have said this before but my longest-running character was in a campaign where the player playing sorcerer switched to ranger, and the cleric left, leaving me as the only full caster and primary healer (though thankfully we got a baller paladin shortly after). The fact that Keyleth had to, and could, be whatever the party needed mechanically was a godsend. I know VM died a lot but they would have died like 20 times more without her and Scanlan and especially without her.

[thenerdofthegroup]

I fear some of you don’t actually like Agatha and only want lesbians and Rio...

And if you do fine but don’t complain when a show about witches isn’t focusing fully on the romance. Every character needs to be explained and this episode was EXACTLY like WV episode 4. And received the same backlash. It needed to happen and the final dialogue between Agatha and Billy tells us such BEAUTIFUL things about Agatha. How a young child who survived and used their gift should never feel ashamed. She is telling him what she wished to hear and the tears in her eyes of remembering Billy and Wanda in the hex. Just beautiful storytelling and Kathryn’s acting

But ultimately, if there is nothing more than we have been given. I will be livid. Because that IS queerbaiting. To not give us a kiss or showing their backstory etc IS queerbaiting and it would be disgusting. BUT their relationship is the heartfelt whisper behind everything. Every small action, every look, every comment and smile and interaction is beautiful and heartfelt. BUT it is the storyline that will become prominent in the final trio of episodes. It will be and we will get a kiss.

I am personally furious the first kiss of the series about women is between two men. BUT their relationship was not integral to the story. Agatha and Rio’s are. Is that not more important? There will be more. Their relationship is for the latter three because the latter three is pure Agatha. Well Lilia next episode but Agatha is much more there

Anyway welcome back to quick thoughts about Episode 6

The Eastview and Westview flags in Billy’s room were in Agatha’s trial. WHY IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Jac I am calling you a liar and I don't care (I'm kidding Jac you are doing a great job thank you for every Agatha thing)

Lilia putting the sigil on him is SO GOOD. My personal theory is that she saw what would happen if Wanda found him. It would have ruined both of them. It could have been because that amount of power at that age may have hurt him but Agatha has constantly been kind to him. I think it was because she saw a bad future with Wanda finding him. Idk jury is out on this but it’s a fun thing to think about. Why?

RALPH’S EXPLANATION! GOOOOOOD this is the thing I keep trying to say. Ralph described it as absolute torture. People were literally asking Wanda to kill them over that. And that was less than two weeks. Agatha has been under it for THREE YEARS. AND I would point to ep 4 where the other two was screaming in pain to the curse and she was able to withstand it. Not only does it show the sadness that she has probably been through so much pain that she can withstand it even without magic BUT ALSO think about how much torture she has felt! She deserves to murder everyone around her. My bby

The outside perspective of the interrogation scene was wonderful. Absolutely hilarious. I think the director said to Kathryn ‘make him break’ and that was where they went

And it is just… again so sad to me. She was forced to make an utter fool of herself but people went along with it and helped her. Its so sweet but so heartbreaking. I love you Agatha

The running scene. She got a cramp because she hasn’t left the house for so long

Billy sits in a chair covered in moons

THE RESEARCH SCENE I LOVED IT I LOVEEEEEED IT. and also remember this is a secondary source. I love this in media. Agatha isn’t a succubus she is a siphon but because this wiki is most likely written by a creep they turn it sexual. I mean she could be but you always have to think about WHO wrote it. Just like the Jolene article. Kathryn probably didn't fuck Dolly Parton’s boyfriend but she did get slapped by her and they ran with it, just like a tabloid would. And ALL THE PHOTOS!!! AHHHHHH I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE PROPER RUN THROUGH OF HER LIFE

On the Jolene point I think it’s a fun easter egg because it’s like Agatha’s perspective of Wanda if the ‘lover’ was magic. Look at these lyrics:

I think Agatha is the singing perspective, Wanda is Jolene and the magic is their lover. It is favouring ‘the younger more perfect’ witch (Agatha is better than everyone don't even, I'm just saying from a jealousy perspective)

AGATHA SURVIVING THE MUD AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHHHH

GONNA SCREAM SOME MORE AHHHHHH

The fact she is one of two witches who has NOTHING and yet still survives the death sentence (which isn’t a death sentence but shouldn’t be escapable) shows how utterly incredible she is. She is a survivor which brings me to my next love

THE DUALOGUE I FUCKING LOVED IT

Okay, originally I thought that she would be mad and angry. But this made so much more sense. Her unseriousness is her hiding her anger and annoyance. But fundamentally she is connected because she relates. Wanda was too late. She was fighting so hard and Agatha tried but Billy… he is a child. He is just like her. But was given a gift not a curse like Agatha. But still, Agatha prioritised surviving and living over anything else. And that is what Billy did: survived. And she respects that. So she tells him what SHE WANTED TO HEAR as a child!!! Its so beautiful!!! Honestly utterly beautiful and Kathryn acted her ass off. Fucking Goddess

And some people are going ‘uh she knew from the start. But why did-’ she lied. ‘Why did what Rio said hurt’- she lied. She had a suspicion at the start but as it went in she thought it was Nick. That shattered around Rio’s comment because Rio would know and Agatha trusts that. Agatha trusts her in those moments. But she did think he was nick then or at least her suspicion and hope tilted towards there which is what I think. She is already covered in mud and embarrassed. Of course she is going to go ‘yeah I always knew. Never had a doubt’. Media literacy is dead my god

AND THE WAY SHE TOUCHED HER BROOCH. That proves to me she did geneuinly have the hope that he was nick. At least in the moment she truly realised the tragedy that Wanda got her son back but she never will.

Her unseriousness. Sometimes a bby girl is a 350 year old serial killer witch

I love you Agatha

And remember this is Agatha’s show. But these character’s need to be fleshed out. But by their explanations we get a greater image of Agatha. But every relationship Agatha has is equally important. I want more romance but this was not the episode for it. The latter three will