#I think “Why is there a horse in here?”
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥
Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader
Summary: you are a bartnder/saloon girl at a bar in town. when billy rides into town, he is absolutely in love with you, but takes it slow. one night you invite him home and he can’t resist you any longer
Warning: 21+ (drinking) fluff, smut, p in v, semi-rough sex (ass slapping), hickeys, oral (f receiving), aftercare, porn with a plot
Word count: 5.1k
A/N: hello friends :) first i just want to say thank you for the support! it has truly exceeded my expectations given i thought like three people were going to read my last two posts sooo thank you thank you thank you all! second, i was trying to get this out to y’all sooner, especially with season 2 being announced, but alas life be busy and i wanted to get this just right so here y’all go! a cute lil fluffy smutty billy moment. i hope to release more billy(and coryo) related content as well as other stuff soooo get excited ♥︎ ! p.s. there is a lil treat at the end ;)
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The moment you saw him ride into town, you knew you had to have him. You had seen a lot of cowboys come into town, handsome ones too. Something about Billy however, had you wondering about what the story was behind those mysterious eyes. His pretty blue eyes that pierced into your soul. He always looked at you so intently under the brim of his hat and would study you. Trying to figure you out just as much as you were with him.
Billy became a regular at the saloon and would start to stay and wait for you to walk you home. It never went beyond that. He was such a gentleman, despite how easily you would have accepted him had he offered himself to you. Little did you know that he was being patient with you because he liked you so much. His last encounter with a woman ended up being a short and fast heartbreak, which pained him at the time and made himself feel like a fool in the long term. So he had swore to himself the next time he had the inclination to want someone he thought was good enough for love, he wouldn’t rush it. He didn’t want to scare you off like the precious creature you were to him.
One morning you can’t stop thinking about him on the way to the market. Your sister was coming into town with her family and you had a big dinner to plan. As you arrived at the market, you were greeted by a familiar face.
“Well good morning, darling” Billy stated tipping his hat “What brings you into town so early?”
“Could ask you the same” you smiled “I need groceries”
“New rope for cattle ranching. Could I offer you any assistance sweetheart?”
Your heart fluttered at the pet names and your face went flush. You felt hot, your corset somehow becoming tighter, and your stomach nearly dropped. You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear.
“Well if you insist” you quipped back
Billy held your basket for you as you shopped. He eventually obtained his rope and the pair bought their goods and were on their way. Of course, Billy offered you a ride home, despite the short distance. You rode on his horse as he rode with you behind him. You loved the feeling of being able to grip onto his waist like this. A seemingly innocent action that you reveled in. And with being this close to him, you happily took in the scent of gunpowder and fresh pine wood that wafted from his shirt. He would occasionally glance over his shoulder to sneak a look at you. He smiled to himself at how pretty your eyes looked as you held onto him tightly, your basket of groceries tucked in your elbow. They arrived soon enough at your home and Billy assisted you inside.
“Well thank you Billy. Always willing to help me ain’t ya.” You smiled sweetly at him. The kind of smile that made Billy loose his thoughts. Your big doe eyes once again captured his attention.
“Of course. A lady like yourself deserves all the help in the world.”
“Why are you sweeting me up like I’m hot tea William Bonney?”
“Maybe because you are sweet. Like honey.” He smiled back, taking a step closer to you. This time, sensing your nerves, he pushed your hair back behind your ear.
“So what is all this food for anyways. Not that I would judge but it seems like a lot for a women who lives alone.”
“Got family coming in. They’ll be wanting a nice meal the first night at least.” You explained lightly gripping his bicep, rubbing his arm with your thumb.
“And I reckon you’ll need some help cooking that. Don’t you think?”
Normally you wouldn’t need the help. Especially since you enjoyed to cook and was very picky about who was in your kitchen. But with Billy asking, how could you say no.
“You don’t have somewhere better to be” she teased
“Where else better to be than with you. Besides just so happens I’m free all day, sugar.”
“Well then, I suppose I better keep ya busy. But I ain’t no nice cook. You’re going have to listen to me” you instructed
“Yes ma’am” he agreed
The two spent the whole day preparing the meal for later that evening. Billy practically danced around you all day. Using any excuse to get close to you. Whether it was reaching across you to grab a cutting knife or touching your lower back when he had a question about something, he was as bold as a man could be without crossing the line too much. Not that you didn’t want him to. His actions were more than welcomed and excited you each time he said “pardon me darling” or “I got another silly question for you dear”.
With Billy’s help, preparations took half the time it usually would. You poured a glass of whiskey for you both, as they finished the last of the preparations.
“Well I think this is well deserved. Thanks again for all the help.”
“Anytime. Thanks for the drink.” He smiled
“It’s the least I could do Billy.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair before your family shows up.” He announced, taking a sip of his drink
“Oh don’t feel rushed.” You reassured
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome darling. Don’t worry about it.”
He finished his drink and you insist on pouring him one more, just to keep him longer. He thanked you once again for the drink, tipped his hat to you, then was on his way. He gave you one last smile over his shoulder and was off back to the ranch.
Once your sister arrived, you found it hard to concentrate on the joy of seeing your family. They were only in town for the weekend, on their way to visit your brother-in-law’s family two towns over. As excited as you were to see your sister, nephew and brother-in-law, your mind was elsewhere. And your sister noticed.
“Hey, you seem distant. Is everything alright?”
“Yes. Just lost in thought.”
“Lost in thought about what pray tell?” Your sister asks
“A man” you whispered
“You’re finally seeing someone?” Your sister, asked suspicious yet hopeful.
“Not really. I’d like to. I sure do fancy him.” You admitted
“Does he fancy you?”
“Seems to.” You guessed “I tried to make him stay and dine with us but he was too polite”
“He was here?” Your sister perked up
“He helped prepare the meal.”
“Did he now? A gentleman and a cook”
You rolled her eyes. “You know I didn’t let him get anywhere near the oven. He washed and chopped some vegetables. And helped season the beef cuts.
“What a fine young man nonetheless” Your sister smiled
The rest of the evening went by. You’re sister, her husband and their son stayed until about 8 o’clock. After they left, you went upstairs and prepared yourself for bed. You changed into a white nightgown, and your long hair falls out of your neat, tight bun. As you brushed it out at your vanity, your attention wondered back to your favorite cowboy. You couldn’t help but wonder what he could be getting up to at the moment. You desperately wished that somehow he would want to find his way back to your doorstep and come stay the night with you. You didn’t care if that was too unbecoming of a proper lady. You wanted him.
The next morning when you woke up, you headed off to see how your sister and their family were settling in for the weekend. They had rented a room at a boarding house at the end of town, you got ready and made it out the door. Once she arrived, her sister was already sat down at breakfast with her son and husband. They spotted her and invited her to join them. Another patron entered the bar and you turned to briefly look who it was. As he entered, Billy looked around for a seat and spotted you. He smiled, tipped his hat, and strode over to the bar where he took a seat.
“Is that him?” She asked and you nodded
“My word ain’t he handsome.” You’re sister exclaimed
“He looks familiar…” your sister’s husband noted as he peered at him
“That’s just because a pretty face like his stands out.” You’re sister smiled at you
The rest of the day you, along with your sister’s family, shopped for some new shirts for your nephew, some new dresses for herself, and you’re sister insisted on buying one for you to impress Billy.
“Come on! What about this blue one?” She exclaimed
She held up the dress and you examined it. It was long, ruffled, and had a square neckline that was laced in white trim. It was pretty, but something else caught your eye. A purple dress, with a sweetheart neckline. The sleeves were short, puffed out and the waist was made to look like a corset, tying snugly in the front.
“If you’re gonna get me a dress to impress Billy, then this is the one I want” You declared, striding over to the dress and showing it off to your sister.
Your sister bought you the dress and you accompanied her family back to the room they were staying in. You tried on the dress, which fit you perfectly. Your sister was practically gawking at you, in awe at how beautiful you looked in it.
“You’re so beautiful” you’re sister exclaimed
“As are you.” You rolled your eyes
“Not as beautiful as you look right now!” Your sister protested. “He’s going to love it” she whispered.
Your sister and her family left the next morning to see her husband’s parents. You bid her a goodbye and watched as she rode out of town. You decided to head into the boarding house for a quick breakfast. You enjoyed a plate of eggs and ham alone, paid, and headed back home.
“Family left this morning I see!” Billy’s voice called out to you as you stepped out of the boarding house. You whipped your head around to look at him and smiled. He was hauling two jugs of water over his back with the intention of hooking them up to his horse to bring back to the ranch. You walked towards him and he set the jugs down next to his horse. He grabbed a torn up towel from his hip and wiped the sweat from his brow. From this distance, you could see that he had already spent a hard morning working. His face was dirty, his handsome features almost hidden.
“They did. Thanks for all your help again the other day.”
“Of course. Anything for you darling.” He smiled
“You know I was thinking I really wish you had joined us the other night for dinner. They would have loved your company I’m sure.” You smiled back
“It’s fine. Don’t want to intrude.”
“Well I want to make it up to you regardless. Are you free tonight?” You asked tentatively
“I can be. Why?” He asks, taking curious steps toward you
“Well I was thinking maybe tonight you could stop by and actually have dinner. Now that everyone is gone. I thought it could be just us?” You suggested
“That’s sounds lovely darling. I get done at the ranch at sundown. I’ll swing by after. How does that sound?” He asked with a light grip under your chin. He rubbed it in between his thumb and forefinger, smiling at you lovingly.
You nodded, but Billy held his grip on you. He spoke up again. “That ok?”
“Yes. I’ll see you after sundown.” You spoke up
You silently begged for him to kiss you. You wanted to taste his lips, his salty sweat, and his tongue dancing with your own. You decided to be somewhat bold and also get a taste of what you wanted. You kissed his cheek, savoring his soft, slightly dusty flesh against your lips.
“Don’t be too late now.” You whispered into his ear. You pulled back before he had a chance to take any action. As much as you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to leave him wanting more.
You rushed home enthusiastically. You spent the rest of the day cleaning your house and making cornbread for dinner. You had some extra cuts of steak from dinner the other night and decided it would pair nicely with some potatoes, and would make a steak and potato stew, which you knew how to season just right. You were nervous, wanting everything to be perfect for him. Thankfully, you prepared for his arrival with just enough time. After putting the cornbread in the oven, and keeping the stew on a low simmer, you went to take a bath. You bathed and shaved your body. Not that you were expecting anything to happen between you and Billy tonight, but you weren’t sure what type of man he really was. How badly did Billy desire you too? You supposed you’d find out tonight.
After your bath, you adorned the purple dress you had bought with your sister. You admired yourself in the mirror and picked out a purple silk bow to match. You tied your hair half up with it and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. You were absolutely adorable and you knew it. Finally you heard a long awaited knock on your door and scurried over to answer it.
Billy stood in your doorway, nervously straightening up his vest and looking down at the bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.
“Mr. Bonney. Glad you didn’t keep a lady waiting too long. Please come in” You invited him, giving him a girlish smile
“Of course not. These are for you.” He replied handing you the flowers. You gladly took them and he watched your expression as you did, noting how cute you looked as your lips curled up into a wider smile.
“Always such a gentleman. Can I get you a drink?” You asked
“A whiskey would be great.”
You poured him a glass of the brown liquor and he took it as he sat down on your couch.
“You seem like you had a long day.” You remarked
“I did. But glad that you invited me over. Makes it worthwhile.”
“Then I should invite you over more often”
“You should.” He agreed, taking a sip of his drink.
You poured yourself your own glass and joined Billy on the couch. You scooted close to him, your knees barely grazing.
“So…” he started pushing your hair behind your ears. “Tell me about your day.”
“It wasn’t anything special. Just spent the whole day getting things ready for this handsome cowboy.” You whispered knowingly
“Oh really? Sounds like you were working hard too hmm?” He remarks
“Not too hard. As long as he likes my cornbread then it will all be worth it.” You smirked
“I’m sure he will.”
You sipped on your whiskey without taking your eyes away from the piercing blue ones in front of you. You batted your eyes at him and moved closer. Just as you felt as if you’re about to lose yourself in his eyes, the smell of cornbread fills the room, indicating that it was done. You excused yourself and took them out of the oven. You also take the opportunity, while you are up, to completely turn off the oven and blew out the flame under the stew so it doesn’t boil over. You walk back to him, sitting even closer.
“Hungry?” You ask
“I-I hate to be rude but…” Billy started leaning in closer. “I just…Can I please kiss you darling?”
You nodded and closed your eyes in anticipation, but Billy needed verbal permission from you. To hear it, to make sure that it’s what you wanted from him. He didn’t move in, but simply danced his thumb over your lower lip, waiting for you to speak.
“Yes Billy, please kiss me.” You gasped
He swooped in, capturing your mouth. He held your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up more. He kissed you deeply, not wanting to break away. He finally had you. Finally got to feel you in some way and he wanted more. Damned be any dinner, despite his hunger he felt, he was hungry for something else. He moved his lips with your own, hoping that his movements didn’t come off as too needy. Just before he pulled back entirely, he placed a few sweet, quick pecks to your lips then, he smiled at you.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that.” He remarked
“As have I” you breathed
Billy dove back in. His soft lips danced with yours again. He cupped your face fully, eliciting a moan against his mouth that made him smirk in satisfaction. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, touching you as if you were made of glass. He was in awe of the moment he found himself in. Having you all to himself like this was exhilarating. You moved to straddle him, your dress pushing up against your thighs as you did. Billy splayed his hands over your newly exposed skin, inhaling sharply as he touched you. You were soft, legs freshly shaved during your bath, which Billy noticed. He snaked his fingers through your hair and admired you on his lap like this. It made his length twitch against your core.
“Billy, ain’t you hungry?” You asked softly
“I’m starving sweetheart, but I’m only hungry for one thing at the moment.”
Billy recaptured your lips, pressing his firmly against your own. He continued to cup your face, holding you like he never wanted to let you go. You sighed into him and rolled your hips against his crotch. He moaned at your actions and sprung into action. Billy moved to stand, gripping your ass, hoisting you up. You gasped as he moved, clinging to him. He loved the way you held him and loved that he was strong enough to hold you like he was. It made his chest swell with pride.
“Where is-“ Billy started
“To the left” you huffed
Billy carried you to your bedroom, kicking the door behind him and tossing you onto the bed. He stood at the edge of the bed, pulling his suspenders off his shoulders, all the while never breaking eye contact with the beautiful girl in front of him. He smirked as you stared up at him, gawking in awe. You slowly sat up until you were on your knees. You placed your hands around the sides of his neck as he snaked his own behind your back. He was quick to untie the thin string that held your dress up. It fell past your shoulders and you gasped at the cool sensation of the room. He brushed the rest of your dress down, revealing your bare breasts to him. He dove in, groping them and massaging them, while he pressed deliberate kisses to your chest. The soft mounds of skin fit perfectly in his hands. Both hands giving you the amount of attention and pleasure you deserved.
You arched your back at the sensation, shoving your chest further into his face, which Billy very much enjoyed. He continued kissing your chest fervently. Feeling bold and drowning in lust, Billy started to leave marks all over your chest. He sucked and bit down on your flesh, causing you to mewl.
“Billy” you whispered
Billy gave your chest a few quick kisses before pushing you back onto the bed. He undid the buttons of his shirt before tossing it off. He climbed back on top of you. He stroked the side of your face gently, admiring the pretty girl below him. He glanced down to your chest, equally admiring your bruises. He slipped the rest of your dress off, stripping you of everything. Bare before him, you felt timid and vulnerable. You had been with men before. A few men in town had fancied you, but also fancied other girls at the same time. As you laid under the handsome cowboy, you were utterly breathless and anticipatory. Billy splayed his hands over your stomach, grabbing the fat of your hips.
“So gorgeous like this. More beautiful than I imagined.”
“You imagined me like this?”
“From time to time. I just couldn’t help myself darling.”
You gasped with a small smirk at the confession. The feeling of being wanted in that way made your core throb. Billy had imagined you like this several times in fact. He would imagine you bare for him as you are now, begging for him to touch you, taste your sweetness, and the feeling of you around his cock. Billy found himself more and more thinking about you in such an intimate way. He couldn’t help but get off to the idea of you. And now he had you all to himself, caged in under him. He palmed his now hard, aching cock through his pants.
“What else did you imagine…with me?” you whispered
He cocked his head, his jaw going slack as he looked at you with amusement. He leaned back down and kissed your cheek.
“Why don’t I just show you?”
You bit your lip in anticipation. Billy began to kiss down your body, each kiss feather light and delicate. You were sensitive to his touch, flinching slightly as each kiss landed on you. When he reached your hip bone he sucked down to leave another scandalous mark. You shuttered at his actions, and slithered your fingers through his hair. He finally made his way down, down, down, until he reached your thighs. He spread your legs apart, roughly and greedily groping the meaty flesh. He began to suck. The idea of marking you up so much drove him crazy. He liked leaving you with the small reminders of the pleasure he gave you.
“Billy!” You gasped “why you leaving so many marks on me?” You raked your fingers through his chocolate brown waves and gave him a curious look.
“You wanted to know what I was thinking about when I was getting off to you right?”
She nodded her head.
“I thought of you branded like this. I just want you to remember every spot I touched you at. So you know this ain’t no dream.”
Lazily, you nodded your head. His lips trailed closer and closer to your core. He glances up at you for approval and you nod. Billy moves his mouth to capture your wetness. He lapped you up, his lips practically making out with your sweetness. Your hips moved in his face slightly. You couldn’t help it, the pleasure he brought you was overwhelming. Billy didn’t seem to mind too much however and you became aware of how much he was enjoying you.
“Christ Billy, I’ve never been with a man who loved to taste a woman this much.”
Billy pulls away with a gasp, looking up at you with the most dazed out look in his eyes. As he smirked, you noticed how wet his mouth is covered in your juices.
“That’s cause they ain’t real men, sugar.” He gave the inside of your thigh a few sloppy kisses, resting his head against it. He groped the soft skin greedily. He trailed his fingers over your clit, rubbing gently on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You cooed at him, squirming slightly. He grinned against you.
“You gonna let me keep tasting you then?”
You nodded your head and he kissed your clit. His passion overtook him as he sucked and swirled his tongue on your core. You watched him, transfixed on the way his mouth moved against you. You let out a few shaky breaths, gripping his hair harder. Your head fell against your pillow and you let your body unwind. As he ate you out, all you could do was moan and grind against his face. Billy did truly love tasing a woman like this. Especially a woman such as yourself. The sweetness, how wet they got. How their thighs would quiver around his cheeks. He loved it. Which is exactly what he loved when he was pleasing you. Especially the way in which you fell apart under his tongue. Billy was satisfied watching you like this. But he craved more. As did you. He pressed a few more fervent kisses to your slit then pulled away. He crawled up on his knees.
Billy worked feverishly to undo his belt, his hand trembling slightly. He quickly wriggled out of his pants, taking his boxers with him. Grabbing the base of his cock, Billy lined himself up with your slit. You moaned as he coated himself in your wetness, diving into your weeping entrance. Billy pressed in slowly, then bottoming out. He took a moment to feel you around him before he began to move his hips.
Lust over took his sensibilities and all he wanted to do was keep you here, caged under him, inside you all night. Billy quickened his pace at the thought. His actions elicited beautiful moans that rolled off your lips. Billy reveled in the fact that he could play you like a guitar as you continued to let him know how good he felt. A devilish grin curled up in the corner of his lips and he scoffed in amusement.
“Oh my god you’re so beautiful.” he whispered gently
He looked down at you with curiosity and amazement. He wondered just what else he could do to you. What else he could coax out of you. He trailed his hand down your stomach until his thumb was pressed firmly on your needy clit. He rubbed tight circles, enjoying you as you writhed, once again, under his touch. He did his best to keep your back on the bed, pressing a hand to your pelvis. The movement of his thumb was almost overwhelming. You were completely under his control, despite the seemingly involuntary movements of your hips bucking up against his hand.
“S-s-so good Billy. Please just like that.” You groaned as he sat up on his knees, readjusting his angle.
He gripped your ankles and tossed them on his shoulder. He kissed down your ankle and along your calf. You decided to take some control and moved your hips with his rhythm as he pumped into you. He ducked his head down, squeezed his eyes and let out a groan. His jaw went slack and he glared down at you. He slowed down his movement and tossed your legs back down on the bed. You gasped in confusion. Billy let a knowing grin sit on his face as he maneuvered your hips and waist, flipping you on your stomach. He kissed your shoulder and down your back, each kiss sending an electric current up your spine and shoulder blade. Then, with one hand on your upper back, he lowered you down.
Billy adjusted you so you were on perfect display for him. He admired your perfect, round little ass perked up for him. He slipped back into you, pulling your hips toward his. He gripped onto your waist with one hand and gave your ass a firm slap with the other. You yelped and Billy gave you another one. He wasted no time moving inside you at a quick, tempered pace. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, so he simply enjoyed the view and fucked you with a satisfied grin on his face. You squirmed and whined under him. You could feel yourself becoming undone. His free hand wandered down your spine, tracing your body to memory. His touch was toxic, his fingers felt like fire. He continued to rock into you. He loved the way you bounced against him, and he filled you up so good too.
Your collective moans filled the room, and soon enough Billy was pulling out and readjusting you one last time. He made you stand up for a moment while he crawled under you. He rested his head against the headboard and patted his thighs. You nodded your head, swinging your legs around his waist. You slowly sank onto his cock, your ass landing down with a small plop. You bit your lip and watched Billy’s face melt into pure ecstasy as you rode him. He loved having your breasts bounce in his face like this. He groped them and sucked them as you continued taking him. You tried to steady yourself on him, cupping his face as you rocked your hips. You lean in and kiss him, his lips felt hot and dangerous now. His hands travel up your back, holding you close to him.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He panted “How long I’ve wanted you.”
All you could do is nod. He smiled, and returned your lips back to his own. He held your hips and began to move them a bit faster. He was close and so were you. Your stomach began to tighten, your legs felt weak and before you knew it you were shaking around him. Billy pulls his face away to watch you. He gawked at your fucked out form on top of him. It nearly sent him over the edge. A few more hard bounces and he was spent. Billy spilled himself inside you, panting as you tamed your breathing.
“Fuck.” He groaned sharply.
You both settled down from your high, breathing in sync as you rested your sweaty forehead against his. He kissed your jaw and cheek, regaining his composure. You chanted his name like a prayer, whispering it into his ear.
“Mmm yes baby?”
“Th-that was so good. You’re so good.”
He nodded in agreement and kissed you once again before he spoke.
“Say darling, would it be too forward of me to ask to spend the night?” He asked
“I would want nothing more than to share my bed with you Mr. Bonney” you smirked
“You sure doll? I know how townsfolk like to gossip and peg beautiful women such as yourself with such nasty names. I just want to be sure-“ he started but you cut him off with a deep, passionate kiss
“Does that answer your question?”
He nodded lazily, a goofy, boyish smile planted on his face. With that he stayed. You crawled off his lap and the pair settled under the sheets. He held you in his arms, playing with your hair until you fell asleep. He kissed your forehead occasionally as you slept, continuing to stroke your hair, until sleep found him as well and he rested his head against yours, holding you close all night long.
꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂
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#billy the kid#billy the kid smut#billy the kid x reader#billy the kid x you#billy the kid fanfiction#smut#tom blyth fanfiction#fan fiction#tom blyth#x reader#billy the kid x reader smut#billy the kid x you smut#fluff#billy the kid fluff#billy the kid romance#billy the kid x fem!reader#william bonney#william bonney x reader#william bonney smut#william bonney x reader smut
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The Joys of Being a Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons (set in Girl Dad series)
Request: no - written for @justrainandcoffee ‘s 2 year ‘Alfieversary’
Pairing: Tommy Shelby (x Reader mentioned) & Alfie Solomons (x fem!OC & child OC mentioned)
Summary: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend.
Warnings: language (it’s Tommy and Alfie we’re talking about here), a slight bit of Cyril slander
A/N: I’m sorry it took me soooo long to write something for your celebration, Flor!! I guess I could call this a present for Rose’s 1 year anniversary too now, even though she’s not really in it. Thank you for sharing this beautiful au with us!!
A/N 2: I should also say that this story was supposed to be shorter, but I just kinda became invested and ran away with it…I hope you don’t mind. Also it’s been a bit since I’ve written for Alfie, so I hope he’s not too ooc here. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!
“Who let you in?” the man who was sitting facing the open balcony door asked.
“How’d you know it was me?” the other man, who was standing at the entrance of the room, responded with his own question.
“Smelt the smoke and horse shit the second you stepped through that archway,” the first man mused, earning a snort from the second. “So I’ll ask again: who let you in?”
“Your wife…”
“Figures she did,” the first man cut the second off, muttering the comment under his breath.
“Your wife’s assistant let me in after she told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face,” the rest of the statement was shared, which made the first man finally spin in his seat to look back towards the archway.
Silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two men staring at each other from several paces away…much like they had on that fated day all those months ago. “So why didn’t ya listen to her?” the first man finally broke the quiet, his quip conjoined with a look of query.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Alfie?” the second man asked, his eyebrows just slightly raised.
“It has,” the first man nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment before he continued, “yet it is still sooner than the day in which I thought I’d see Tommy Shelby again.”
Tommy Shelby just shook his head at the man’s remark, looking at the ground as he pursed his lips. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.
“Why’re you here then?” Alfie asked, still wanting to get to the bottom of the Birmingham man’s presence. However, he interjected again before said man even had the chance to speak: “you’ve come to finish me off, haven’t ya? Since ya couldn’t get it right the first time.”
“I’ve come with something,” Tommy answered, not even bothering to respond to Alfie’s second comment.
He then stepped towards the chair that the other man was sitting in, his hands still behind his back. Anyone else would have wondered if maybe they’d got it right…maybe he was actually there to finish his old adversary off. But Alfie wasn’t bothered in the slightest. No, he could tell from the manner in which Tommy approached him.
“I want to offer a congratulations…on your daughter,” Tommy finished his statement once he was standing in front of Alfie. Alfie looked him over with raised eyebrows, wondering just how a busy, business-minded man like him would have gotten such information. “(Y/N) told me the news. She got word of it from Rose,” Tommy gave the curious man some more information.
“That Rosie…” Alfie mused with a slight shake of his head, “I had a feelin’ that she hadn’t cut off all contact with you Shelbys.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife still keeping up a regular correspondence with the wife of the man who’d shot him.
(Y/N) and Rose had hit it off practically from the moment they met each other. Their friendship went beyond their husbands’ business partnership, and so when one disgruntled husband aimed a gun at the other and pulled the trigger, the two women tried hard not to let it come completely between them. There some time where radio silence prevailed…actually most out the time over the course of the last year was filled with radio silence, but it didn’t seem like a beat was missed when Rose contacted (Y/N) to tell her of the newest addition to the Solomons family.
Although Tommy was more hesitant to make amends, he couldn’t deny his wife’s request to deliver something to the newest Solomons.
“She wanted me to give you this,” Tommy then said, finally revealing the tan, stuffed rabbit that he’d brought with him. “To give to her,” he included, making his intentions more clear.
“I knew you weren’t givin’ me a stuffed rabbit,” Alfie quipped, snorting to himself before continuing, “or at least I hope you were plannin’ to.”
“I wasn’t planning on doing that, Alfie, no,” Tommy shook his head, dismissing the comment before it gained any ground. “The rabbit’s for your girl.”
Alfie took a moment to look over the other man again. He was still holding the rabbit out in front of him, waiting for Alfie to take it. Tommy wondered how long Alfie was going to make him stand like this.
Finally he took it. “She’ll like it,” Alfie stated, eyeing over the animal from close up now. He couldn’t deny that it felt soft in his hands. Allie would surely love it. “Thanks, Tommy.”
“My three couldn’t go to bed without it,” Tommy commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of his three daughters and the love they had for that very stuffed rabbit.
A look of realization flashed across Alfie’s face as he heard Tommy’s comment. He brought his hand up to his jaw and ran it down his cheek slowly, stroking his beard as if he was in thought. “Have a seat,” he then said, gesturing to the chair that was set directly across from the one he was sitting in. He waited until the other man was seated before continuing, “three girls, huh?” he mused, sounding like he was talking more so to himself than anything.
“Yeah,” Tommy nodded in response.
“A proper girl dad,” Alfie commented then.
“A what?” Tommy asked with furrowed eyebrows.
“You’re a dad that’s got all girls, hence the fucking term girl dad…stick with it, Tommy,” the response came laden with derision.
Tommy raised his eyebrows at the other man’s comments, looking to the ground as he let the air cool off before he cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yeah, a girl dad then.” He ran a hand along the back of his head as he spoke, wondering if he was even using the term correctly. Alfie didn’t comment, so he guessed that he didn’t seem to care none.
Instead the newer father continued on with the conversation. “Does it ever get hard?”
“What? Being a girl dad?” Tommy looked over at him again.
“No, not being able to hit your fucking mark when you’re fifteen fucking paces away,” Alfie retorted, “yes, being a girl dad,” he then exaggerated his words.
Tommy bit his tongue yet again. He wasn’t here to get into a fight with Alfie Solomons. The rabbit currently sitting in the other man’s lap was supposed to serve as a sort of olive branch.
“It does,” he finally answered after a moment’s pause.
“Give me some fuckin’ detail, mate,” Alfie asked.
“Fuckin’ hell, Alfie,” Tommy sighed under his breath, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids. He cleared his throat again as he thought of how he’d answer the question. “It’s been hard from the moment we brought Thea home. A different sort of hard than the ‘hard’ I’ve experienced prior. But it’s also been rewarding...with Thea, then Evie and now Juniper. I’ve learned more from them than from anything else I’ve ever done.”
Alfie took a moment to digest what his confidant had just shared with him. He truly didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to come out with such meaningful statements. I guess even the worst of men can change their tones, he thought to himself. “I didn’t know ya had it in ya, Tommy,” he commented, exuding a breath of a laugh as he shook his head.
Tommy kept his eyes locked on Alfie unsure of how to respond to his comment. He wondered if this was all some sort of game…if Alfie now wanted to toy with him; getting him to open up just to use the information against him.
“Thanks for sharing it though. I, uh…” Alfie paused, the sound of his voice cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and making him focus in again. “I’ll take all of the help I can get with this one. They say that raising a child takes a fucking village, or however that fucking saying goes.”
“There’s a great deal of joy in it too,” Tommy made sure to add, hoping to convey that having daughters, or kids at all for that matter, wasn’t only stressful. “I just know that I wouldn’t be able to do it without (Y/N) though.”
“That’s the same with me and my Rosie. A fuckin’ trooper, that woman is,” Alfie agreed in regards to his wife. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Rose Solomons. He genuinely owed his life to her…and he was going to spend the rest of it showing her.
Silence fell between the two men then, both sitting comfortably in their thoughts of the women they had in their lives, and of how much their respective wives meant to them. The silence hung until the sound of small feet came pattering off of the hardwood in the hallway.
“Daddy! Daddy!” a shrill voice of a small girl soon accompanied the hurried footsteps. Said girl quickly appeared in the archway of Alfie office. Along with her frantic demeanor, Alfie was also able to see streaks of tears on her chreks.
“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.
“Cyril chewed on my stuffie, daddy!” she exclaimed, hiccuping as she spoke through her tears. “It was my favorite stuffie!”
“Awe now love, I’m sorry about that,” Alfie began, opening his arms to the child as she came over to him. She quickly fell into them, and he wasted no time in hugging her tightly. “He’s just a brute that knows nothing of favorite stuffies,” he consoled her as she continued to sniffle her tears away.
Tommy watched on as the moment played out in front of him. He laughed to himself as hearing the reason behind the problem at hand took him back to the moments where Cyril had chewed his girls’ stuffies; there had to have been several instances during the dog’s stay at Arrow House.
“I don’t have a stuffie now, daddy,” Allie whimpered, finally lifting her head from her father’s chest. “Mum said it was too covered in slobber to be saved.”
“Well I’ve got just the fix for ya, Allie,” Alfie began, unwrapping one of his arms from her so that he could blindly search for the stuffed rabbit that Tommy had just handed him. He continued when he found the animal, “now I know it’s no bear, and I know that your favorite stuffies have all been bears, but this lovely little lass was just placed upon my lap moments before you came runnin’ in.”
Allie’s eyes immediately found the rabbit, and she had it in her tight embrace within an instant. “This stuffie is so soft! And she has a lovely bow!” she observed, now beaming with excitement. “Thank you so much, daddy!” she smiled at her father.
“Thanks have to go to that man,” Alfie told his daughter, nodding in Tommy’s direction. He bit his tounge and stopped the urge to add ‘the one who shot your father’ because even he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t want to bring that feud into Allie’s realm.
“What’s his name?” Allie asked in a loud whisper, her shy eyes finding Tommy’s.
“Tell ‘er your name, mate,” Alfie beckoned Tommy to share the information.
“It’s Tommy,” the other man followed suit, smiling as he spoke.
Allie observed him for a moment, surely trying to decide what she felt about him. A few beats of silence passed before a smile formed on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Tommy,” she said in a small voice.
“You’re welcome, Allie,” Tommy nodded, his smile widening.
“Dad you have to yell at Cyril now,” Allie turned back to her dad, a deep frown present on her face.
“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s done,” Alfie assured her, “go play, love.”
With one last smile, Allie hopped off of her father’s lap and exited the room almost as quick as she entered it.
“That fuckin’ dog…” Alfie trailed off, shaking his head, “why’d you give him back?”
“You wanted him back, Alfie,” Tommy answered in a monotone voice.
“You may be right,” Alfie conceded, cracking a smile as he thought about the dog.
“Your daughter’s lovely,” Tommy commented.
“She is, ain’t she?” Alfie answered, “light of my fuckin’ life, that girl…both her and her mum.”
Tommy nodded, his mind going to his wife and daughters. There was no doubt that he shared the same sentiment towards his girls.
Oh, the joys of being a girl dad…even if — or rather when, because it’ll surely happen again — Tommy and Alfie were at odds with each other, they’ll always have the shared title as something they can both relate to.
MASTERLIST
The Story of Rose and Alfie
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Subscribing to Letters Regarding Jeeves and the Woman in White Weekly has left me preoccupied with the role of servants. So here's a bit of a ramble on servants - and particularly Dracula's servants, or lack thereof.
Jonathan comes from a time when being middle-class means having at least one live-in servant. But the number of servants per head of population in the UK was falling - from 1.38m in 1891 (4% of the population) to 1.27m in 1911 (2.8% of the population). That's why, in Jonathan's time, employing one servant means entry to the middle classes, but 30ish years later, the fabulously wealthy Bertie Wooster also has... one servant.
(To disgress: admittedly Jeeves is likely to be a lot more expensive to employ than the entry-level maid-of-all-work that a middle-class household would have, and there's also no indication that Wooster couldn't afford more servants, but I think it's still significant that he's happy with just the one. Wooster is gently snobbish about being appropriately dressed and going to the right restaurants and so on, but he doesn't see only having one servant as a problem.)
Dracula is a medieval nobleman. I don't know much about Transylvanian history but I would expect that in life, his castle would have been swarming with servants, both as a necessity (it takes a lot to keep a castle warm and clean, and its inhabitants fed), as a duty (to employ people from the surrounding area) and as a status symbol. And I would expect much the same to be true of a living nobleman on his country estate in 1890s Transylvania as well.
So why doesn't Dracula have any servants?
Well, obviously from a storytelling perspective, it's fucking creepy. I think the impact is lessened from a 21st century perspective because "there are no servants" is the default state for most of us, but this is the 1890s equivalent of being in a city and suddenly all the street noise goes silent. And I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place goes hard in any century. From Bram Stoker's perspective, I don't think this needs more justification and if I wasn't analysing every aspect of this book in the minutest detail I don't think I would give it any further thought.
The other obvious answer is that, being dead, Dracula doesn't need any servants. But I don't think that works. He may not need to eat or stay warm and presumably he doesn't produce any waste, but he still wears clothes that need washing and has horses that need to be cared for. Any old building needs an exhausting amount of maintenance just to keep it from crumbling. There's a lot of work that needs doing and I think we can assume that Dracula doesn't want to be doing it himself.
Perhaps he can't have servants. If serving at the castle means death (which presumably it does) then maybe the locals just refuse. And while Dracula has ways to pressure people, I can imagine that he would see that as beneath him just for the sake of having someone to wash his shirts. Maybe as much of that work as possible is done outside the castle, free of charge, by the terrified locals.
So then I find myself wondering, what is the state of the castle usually? Has Dracula spring-cleaned for his visitor? Has he brought the bed-hangings and linen out of ancient storage chests, replacing the moth-eaten ones that usually sit there, decaying? Has he dusted? There is an enormous amount of work involved just in getting the castle to the standard that Jonathan sees. Is there magic involved? Does Dracula usually live there like Sleeping Beauty with the castle crumbling around him? Or is the sumptuous luxury that Jonathan sees just an illusion?
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Peace Offerings Pt. 10
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Series Summary: Joel makes a bad impression on the reader when he cuts in front of her at the radio station in the QZ. Abe, a father figure to her and an informant of Joel’s, informs her that the two have something in common: A brother in Wyoming. Joel reluctantly follows Abe’s wishes when he asks him to take the reader along to help find her brother too. As the journey goes on, she finds that despite his best efforts to make her think so, Joel isn’t a complete asshole, and maybe even a little… attractive?
Series Warnings: Extreme slow burn, Age gap (reader is 34, Joel is 56), 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Cursing, Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)
Chapter Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, alcohol use, protective!Joel, respectful!Joel, drunk!reader, asshole!brother
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Part Ten
“Ok, asshole. I’ll stay. But only if you share that with me.” I said as I caught sight of a full bottle of whiskey on the counter. His eyes followed my gaze and he moved to pick it up. He turned it over in his hands, and then popped the cork out of it before taking a swig. “It’s shit.” He said after swallowing. I grabbed it from him, “It’s better than nothing.” I raised the bottle to my lips and as the liquid hit the back of my throat I coughed, “God that is bad.” He took it back from me and pushed the cork in, “Told you, but you still haven’t learned your lesson.” I looked up at him and questioned, “What’s that?” He walked over to sit back down on the couch. “You still don’t listen.” I sat on the chair across from him, “Well I listen better than you do. You are half deaf afterall.” He pressed his lips together, “Even then, I can follow directions.” I rolled my eyes, “That’s cause you make ‘em. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. We can go our separate ways, remember?” I reminded him. The reminder wiped the sly look off of his face and he nodded. After thinking for a moment, he spoke again, “Seems like you’re not quite ready to though.” I raised my eyebrows, “And you are? May I remind you that you kissed me first, and now you’re practically begging me to stay the night at your house?” He cleared his throat and sat up, uncomfortable with the chokehold I had him in, “Again, I was lookin’ out for the horses. And you’d find some way to get yourself in trouble.” I bit my lip to stifle a smile and nodded, “Right.”
Joel occupied himself with tending to a small fire he’d lit in the brick fireplace that was adjacent to the furniture in the living room. I watched him as I sat on the chair and sipped the rubbing alcohol they called whiskey from the bottle. I couldn’t help but notice how his demeanor changed here. His serious and stoic nature had softened. He could joke around and not clam up after. Maybe it was finally having a sense of safety for once and knowing that his brother was alive and well. Or maybe it was the whiskey.
“Joel?” I asked as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey back from my hand and plopped onto the couch. “Hmm?” He grunted. “Who’s Sara?” His eyes flashed to me as soon as the name left my mouth. I stiffened. “How the hell do you know that name?” He asked, his tone darkening quickly. I needed to stop letting my curiosity, and liquor, get the best of me. His face dropped in realization, “Is that why you were hiding in the stable? To eavesdrop on Tommy and I?” He asked angrily as he set the whiskey down on the table with a loud thump. “No. No I swear- I really got pissed at my brother and was just trying to find a quiet place.” I explained frantically. He calmed a bit, but the accusatory look still inhabited his face. “What’d your brother do?” He questioned. I shook my head, “It’s stupid. Just forget my question- forget all of it.” We both leaned back in our chairs, letting the potential conversation marinate as we stared into the fire.
Finally, Joel spoke. “Sara was my daughter. Lost her on the day the world went to shit.” My breath caught in my throat, and my chest tightened. I couldn’t imagine the pain that had caused him, but it did explain a lot of things. “God- I’m sorry, Joel. I-“ I breathed. “Don’t.” Was all he had to say before I shut my mouth and prepared to do so for the rest of the night.
The warmth of the whiskey in my stomach and the crackling of the fire began to lull me to sleep. I heard Joel’s soft snores coming from the couch across from me. There was a perfectly good bed upstairs, but even after weeks of sleeping on the hard ground or pushing cushions together, we still chose to sling ourselves over living room furniture.
I jolted awake at the sound of a forceful knock on the door. Joel hadn’t heard it, he’d fallen asleep with his good ear facing down. I contemplated waking him up, but the knocks were getting harder and louder. Out of fear of handling the situation alone, I planted a hand on his shoulder which caused him to flinch and draw in a panicked breath before catching sight of me. “Someone’s at the door.” I whispered. He blinked a few times and sat up, rubbing his eyes. We both jumped as the knocks sounded again. “Dammit, I’m comin’!” Joel yelled as he pushed himself off of the couch and limped towards the door. I stood in the living room, almost certain the knocks were for me, but I knew I couldn’t hide long.
Joel opened the door and Matthew grabbed a hold of Joel’s collar and pushed him up against the wall. “Where’s my sister, Miller?” He growled. Joel’s eyes were filled with panic and confusion. He tried to signal for me to hide, but I wasn’t going to let my idiot brother hurt him over an innocent night of drinking and conversation. “Matthew, let go of him.” I called. His head snapped towards me and his hands dropped from Joel’s collar. “The fuck are you doin’ here with him, sis? We talked about this.” He said as he walked towards me. “You talked at me about this and didn’t listen to a word I said.” I answered coldly. “Oh I heard you. You said there was nothing going on between you guys, and clearly that’s a lie.” He seethed, “What happened to your nose? He beatin’ you already? Hmm.. he’s starting earlier than the last one did. James gave it at least a year.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides. He’d dug up a memory I’d pushed far, far back into my mind. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. My eyes flashed to Joel and his eyebrows were furrowed with that same pitiful look. “I fell, Matthew. I tripped in the dark while I was getting some fresh air last night and smacked my face on the ground. Joel was only helping me because I ran into him and my nose was bleeding everywhere.” He looked between Joel and I, and then settled his sight on the half empty bottle on the table. “So it took all night, and a half a bottle of whiskey to ‘help’ you.”
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms over my chest. I was 34 but somehow my older brother made me feel like a teenager again, in the worst way possible. “I drank it for the pain, got tired, and fell asleep in this armchair.” I explained bluntly. He nodded and walked back towards Joel, “That the truth?” Joel’s jaw was clenched and his fists balled in the same way mine were, but he nodded calmly. “All right then. I don’t mean to be all psycho on ya, Miller. My sister hasn’t had the best luck with male companions, and uh, you don’t have the best reputation around here. Just lookin’ out for her is all.” Matthew said in a patronizing tone before patting Joel’s shoulder and walking out the door.
I stood there for a moment, recovering from the blow of memories being brought up. I felt Joel’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t bear to look into them. I was in no mood to answer the questions that were likely circling his brain and kept my eyes on the floor as I moved from the living room to the door. “I gotta go… I’ll see you around, Joel.” I said quietly before stepping out onto the porch and pulling the wooden door closed behind me. I ignored the sound of it opening again and my name being called as I made my way down the street.
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and an immeasurable anger burned inside of me. How dare my brother just march back into my life and act like he cares about protecting me. If he really cared he wouldn’t have left me. He wouldn’t have obeyed some random woman’s orders to cut off contact with me. Wouldn’t have thrown my past in my face over some man he didn’t truly know.
I caught sight of Matthew strutting down the street and towards his house. The last thing I wanted to do was speak to him, but if I was going to stay here, I needed to convince him that Joel wasn’t the man those rumors were about. “Matthew!” I yelled as I jogged to catch up with him. He turned around. As I caught up I placed my hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry, but what the fuck is up your ass for you to think that you can just waltz back into my life after years and act like you’re my god-given protector or something? May I remind you that you were the one who left? You-“ he cut me off, “And I regretted it every day. Wished I could’ve turned back every chance I had.” My eyes widened, I was unable to process his sudden change in demeanor. “Then why didn’t you?” I asked. He lowered his head to the ground, “I figured you’d be safer in the QZ. My plan was to find somewhere better for us, and then bring you out. Didn’t want you risking your life traveling outside the walls for nothing, so I went first. Plus, I fell into some bad groups. I couldn’t have left if I wanted to.”
I stared at him, suddenly the guilt for being angry with him for all this time flooded my chest. He was trying to find us a better life, not just himself. But I still needed to understand something, “And how do you explain the over protectiveness?” I asked pointedly. “I don’t know… I just… when we were younger I saw you with all of these assholes. Always knew you deserved better. All of the men I’ve seen and heard of in this new world are twice as bad as they were then-“ I raised a hand to cut him off, “But Joel is not. I know you’ve heard things about him, but you can’t deny the fact that we’ve all done horrible shit to survive. I’m sure if someone heard what you’ve done- what we’ve done they’d think the same damn thing. Believe me, I thought he’d be just like those other men, but he proved otherwise.” I explained. He crossed his arms, “What makes him so different, huh?” I looked back towards his house to see that he’d gone inside. “He didn’t have to take me with him, but he did. Says it was for Abe, but now I’m just starting to think it was just out of the kindness of his heart. He shared what he had with me, protected me, even risked his life for mine on multiple occasions. I know words are just words, Matthew, but if you get to know him, you’ll see.” He followed my gaze to Joel’s house and then settled his eyes on me. “Do you trust me?” I asked. He nodded. “So you’ll stop being a psycho?” I asked again. “I’ll think about it.” He smirked, and turned to walk into his house. I took in a huge breath of relief before following him into the house.
That night, Matthew had dragged me to the bar to meet a few of his friends. I’d knocked a couple of shots back to calm my nerves from being in a big crowd which caused me to become a bit more social. I was deep in conversation with a woman who was almost as drunk as I was when her eyes were focused on something behind me. “Hey, that guy over there is staring at you, want me to fuck him up?” She slurred, almost falling off of her stool. I spun to look behind me, having to catch myself on the counter of the bar before making another circle, and caught sight of Joel standing against the wall beside the fireplace. He quickly moved his eyes away from me and began to speak to Tommy. I turned back to the woman, “Nah, I got it.” I slid off of the stool and started towards him. The ground felt like it was moving, and I tried my best to stay upright as I made my way over.
“Mr. Joel!!” I called. He raised his head, and his face dropped when he saw me nearing him. “My friend over there caught you staring at me. Do we have a problem?” I asked as I tried to crack my knuckles intimidatingly. I was too drunk to see the smirk forming on his face. He lowered a hand to my arm to steady my swaying. “I wasn’t starin’.” He grunted. I gasped dramatically, “And now you’re lying! ‘Cause I saw you with my own two eyes, pal. You are a liarrrrr.” My sing songy voice caused him to cringe, and he began to look around the bar. “Where’s your damn brother, you need to get home.” I pushed his hand away, “No, thank you. I am fine. More than fine. I’m gonna go dance. C’mon.” I grabbed the glass of whiskey out of his hand and began to tip it into my mouth before he wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled it downwards. “You’re done.” He said, his voice took on a serious tone, causing me to become even less serious. “C’mon, Joel it just started to not taste like piss anymore.” He put the glass down on the mantle, and ushered me forwards by my shoulders. As I fought against Joel’s force, I became engrossed in the song that was playing and started to sing along to it. I eventually slipped out of his grip and turned around, wrapping my hands around his neck, “You gotta admit, this is a good fuckin’ song.” I slurred. “Jesus Christ.” He sighed. He rolled his eyes and his hands hovered around my waist. “Oh quit being a pussy.” I spat, and pushed his hand onto my waist. He quickly removed them and pried my arms off from around his neck. I stood there with a hurt expression on my face. He had officially become sick of my shit, and grabbed my wrist, pulling me to the door of the bar.
“Oo, where are we going?” I asked cluelessly. “I’m taking you home. Don’t want you doin’ anything you’ll regret.” He grunted. It was freezing outside, and I realized I’d left my jacket on the stool. “My fucking jacket!” I whimpered as I rubbed my arms up and down for warmth. He pressed his lips together and shook his own off his shoulders before wrapping it around me. “Just let me go get it.” I protested and tried to hand it back. “You’re not goin’ back in there.” He grumbled, pushing it towards me. I rolled my eyes and clumsily threw it back over my shoulders. The smell of him on the jacket warmed me more than the heavy fabric itself. “Thank you.” I said as I wrapped it further around me. He grunted and held out his hand for me, “You gonna make this easier now?” I slid my hand into his larger one and squeezed before sighing, “I don’t think I have a choice.”
Joel pushed open the door to Matthew’s house and called out for him, but received no response. “He probably followed some girl home.” I laughed and began to dig through the cabinets for another bottle of liquor. I found one, but Joel closed the door before I could reach up to get it. I shot him an annoyed look, but he ignored me as he took a glass and filled it with water from the sink. “Drink this for a change.” He said, shoving the glass into my hands. “I’m really fine, Joel, I don’t know why you’re going all guard dog mode.” I slurred before taking a small sip of the cold liquid. He said nothing, and perched himself onto a stool at the island. I stood opposite of him next to the sink. He was staring at me with an indecipherable look in his eye. “What?” I asked bluntly. He shook his head, as if shaking himself out of a trance and mumbled, “Nothin’.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Well from the way you’re lookin’ at me it’s obviously something.” He shifted in the chair, then gestured to the cup in my hands, “Drink some more water ‘n then we’ll talk.”
“Ok, I finished the glass.” I said as I slammed it back down onto the counter. “Good,” he said before standing up and beginning to walk towards the door, “Now go to bed.” I cocked my head, “That’s it? I thought we were going to talk.” He let his head fall towards the floor, then raised it back up towards me. “That was a bribe. Goodbye.” He turned to continue his exit, but I wasn’t having that and ran to stand between him and the door. “Not cool, Miller.” I said quietly, becoming shy with his intense eye-contact. “Come on, move.” He said , tapping my arm gently to try and usher me out of the way. “Joel, I want to talk to you. About what my brother said this morning.” I blurted. He paused, “What? That I’m a bad man? That I beat you? Yeah, I know he’s not a huge fan of me, so if he catches me with you again it won’t be pretty. I was just tryin’ to get you home safe. Now I gotta go.” I shook my head and pressed my hand on his chest, “No, Joel I talked to him.” I insisted. “What?” He tilted his head. “I…wanted him to know that you weren’t who he thought you were.” I said shyly. “What’d he say?” He asked. My heart fluttered when I realized he cared. He cared what my brother thought about him. “We can convince him,” I sighed before reaching up to run my fingers through his hair and let my hand rest on his neck as I spoke, “He was just being protective. He was never a big fan of my past relationsh-” I stopped myself. Joel’s neck tensed under my hand and I peeled it off to hang by my side. My body numbed with fear and sobriety as I saw Joel’s face change from his soft, yearning look to a hard one. I watched him build his walls back up in real time. “I mean… Not that we’re in a relationship, or going to be in one. Uh… its just, you know..a man and a woman can’t be in the same vicinity without people thinkin’ they’re…” I trailed off again, stopping myself from digging into an even deeper hole. I moved away from the door. “G’night.” He grunted as he pulled the door open. “Night.” I whispered, my voice drowned out by the wooden door slamming in my face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Awwww shit reader, what did you do now?? Lmao
Thank you for reading! <3
Masterlist
Tags:
@demonsasss @ashleyfilm @ayamenimthiriel
#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x female reader#tlou#joel the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#pedrohub#if bad why hot?#daddy i love him#but daddy i love him#i can fix him#i can fix him no really i can#enemies to lovers#forced proximity trope#fluff#angst#the mandolarian#javier peña#narcos
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H1 with platonic Erwin? Not sure if it fits his character but I trust your imagination ❤️
Help
Platonic Yan!Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader
Request: “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”
Warnings: Platonic Yandere, infantilization (kind of), non harmful punishment threats, bruises referenced
Yandere Alphabet List
Master List
Adventurer, this totally fits Yan!Erwin. Love this request so much. Thanks! 🖤🤘
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The man thinks of you as a daughter, his little cadet. You are important to the cause, yes…but you are more important to him. Somehow, you managed to penetrate the impregnable walls of his heart. Now, he can’t even imagine letting you do anything more than helping with the horses, cleaning weapons, stocking supplies, and other things of that nature (all under his supervision of course). He couldn’t have you be around horses or rifles all by yourself.
But there comes a time, every once in a while, where you will plead your case to Erwin, asking him if he will allow you to go on a mission.
“Why do you wish to go? Are you so unsatisfied with the work you do here? You’re an important asset with the things you do.”
He understands your need for independence, but it’s too illogical. You’re just a child. You’re not thinking correctly. You’re not thinking at all. He will not allow you on the front lines in the face of those Titans.
“I just…wanna go.” It’s all you can manage, all you can muster as you speak too boldly to your commander.
“You just want to? Is that correct?”
Will he finally let you go? You nod your head fervently. You’ve seen how excited Eren gets when he goes off to kill Titans. You’ve heard rumors of how great Captain Levi and Mikasa perform. You’ve listened to tales of how Armin came up with this or that strategy. You just want to be a part of the cause, the greatness.
You feel like you’re ready.
But then Erwin sighs, and your hopes begin to sink. They sink deeper and deeper the longer the silence lingers between the two of you. You’re unable to help the taut stretch of your lips as you keep your E/C eyes focused on his sky blue orbs.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I cannot oblige your request. If you’d like to help, you can change the water buckets for the horses.”
Your eyes narrow at him, and he doesn’t seem all that sorry in the slightest. No, it was something said merely to help you accept the denial of your request.
“But that’s not fair! I’ve been here just as long as Connie, Armin, Mikasa, Eren-“
“I understand your frustrations. You’re a cadet of the 104th just like them, but I will not allow you to train and participate in field missions. It’s just not happening. It would be best if you accepted that.”
“Sir, please, I’ve been asking for this one chance for so long. You have to-“
Again, he cuts your rant short, not wanting to hear the rest of what you have to say. He’s heard it all before, and he’ll probably hear it again at some point. But for right now, he doesn’t care to listen.
“Enough, young lady! Do I need to take disciplinary action? Cadets who don’t know how to speak to authority often find themselves running laps until sundown or in a jail cell for the night. Is that what you need?”
“No, sir…” Most definitely not.
You look down and sigh. Your gaze lingering on the leather of your boots as you dig your toe into the ground. It’s never your intention to displease Commander Erwin because of how much time you spend with him, but you just wish so damn much that he would treat you like he treats the other scouts. Instead, he treats you like a child, a little girl who he needs to keep watch over.
Erwin keeps an eye on you, taking in your dejected response. A soul-sucking sigh comes from the deep depths of his own core, and he gets up and walks over to you. Cupping your cheek with one hand, he guides you to look up at him.
“There’s no need to look so sad. You’ll overcome this. Trust me. I’ll be right here every step of the way.”
Yes, because Erwin is always right there whether you want him to be or not.
“Yes, sir. I understand. Am I still in trouble?”
You can hear the low rumble of his laugh, finding what you just asked so amusing.
“Is that what you’re worried about? I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”
“Yes, Commander…I know.”
But do you? He has never…hit you before. But there have been times when he grabbed your wrist or arm so tightly he left bruised behind in the wake of his wrath. There have been times when he dragged you to your room and roughly shoved you into bed, telling you to go to sleep in a sharp manner.
“Then, there’s nothing to be anxious over,” he says in a low and calming tone as he brushes a lock of your H/C strands behind your ear, just as a doting father might.
But with Commander Erwin always looming behind you, always towering over you, there’s always a reason to be apprehensive. There’s no helping it.
#yandere#triggering content#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#triggering themes#yandere x darling#yandere themes#platonic yandere#yandere platonic#yandere attack on titan#attack on titan requests#attack on titan#attack on titan erwin#yandere erwin smith#yandere erwin#yandere commander erwin#platonic yandere erwin smith#erwin smith#commander erwin
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King Baldwin IV Headcanons! ♔🤍♕
A/N: So, here we are. I could not resist this mysterious and tormented king's charm. His silky voice makes me dream! These are some headcanons I've collected off the top of my head. The Reader is implied to be female and married to Baldwin IV. Please, do feel free to hit my inbox to ramble about our king because I'm literally dying of pining and yearning.
tags: female!reader x baldwin iv of jerusalem (from kingdom of heaven); reader is married to baldwin iv of jerusalem; fluff; slight angst towards the end
wc: 1150k
reccomended songs to listen to while reading: "Summertime Sadness" by Hildegard von Blingin; "Right Here" by Ashes Remain; "Blood, Sweat, Tears" by BTS (orchestral version)
"Many are the tales of the King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and of his Queen. Despite the varying accounts of their deeds, each one of them agrees on one aspect: the King of Jerusalem loved his Queen dearly, and the world is richer for it".
Baldwin IV is mysterious, intense, valiant, noble and utterly devoted to you, his Queen. But what does this devotion look like?
Firstly, he would believe in you like no other and would always be ready to give you his best advice whenever the weight of your responsibility becomes too much. Foreign rulers would soon learn of your qualities - there would hardly be a piece of correspondence where the King of Jerusalem does not praise the intellect and insight of his dear wife. He would glance at you from time to time, while you both work at your desks sharing the burden of paperwork, silently thanking God for having sent him not only a beautiful, but reliable life companion as well.
He values your opinions greatly and has the utmost regard for your views on political, military and state matters. Disagreements happen, yet your overall values are aligned, which is why Baldwin understands your vision and where your point comes from. During the discussions regarding complex decisions, he would let you speak and explain, then he would offer his honest thoughts on the matter, should he see another, different way from yours.
Playing chess is a favorite way of spending quality time together in your chambers, away from the chaos of the court. If you know how to play and are proficient at it, he would delight in the thrill of challenge, as he would finally have found a true equal. If you do not know how to play, he would teach you with patience, taking pride whenever you make an unexpected and astute move. He would be such a nerd while he explains the rules to you and would be delighted to see how your mind works when devising a plan.
"Congratulations, dove. You have a checkmate."
I can also see Baldwin taking you on long rides, if his health allows it. He would sweetly check the reins and saddle on your horse before mounting on his steed and leading you away to enjoy the cool early morning breeze, before the heat of Jerusalem becomes too sweltering. You would have a nice and secluded spot to enjoy and to pretend that you are a couple of young lovers without responsibilities and crowns weighing on your heads.
Your presence brings him safety and comfort, which is what would convince him to remove his mask when he is alone with you and the physicians. He would especially love to rest his head on your la as you gently caress his curls while the physicians tend to his skin. It is a sacred moment. He does not know how he went so long without your presence during this delicate time. Speaking softly to each other, you would distract him from the pain with talk of your hometown, fairy tales from your culture, or even simply reflecting on a happening of that day. On these occasions, you learn how to best take care of him, watching the physician tend to his arm while you tend to the other, delicately dabbing the cloth over his wounded skin. Baldwin feels so protected and safe in your presence. He thinks you are God’s greatest gift to him.
Now, jealousy. Baldwin knows he boasts the honor of having an exquisite flower such as yourself to call his own. As do powerful men and courtiers from distant lands. Many covet your loveliness as one would a precious gem. Should one of these foolish people try to take you from him or even stare at you for too long to be considered proper, they would be met with a pure force to be reckoned with. Should a knight’s eye linger on you for too long, he would be quick to put him in place in his signature glacial, elegant way. Before long, everyone learns not to disrespect the Queen consort of Jerusalem.
“Perhaps you would have understood my point, had you not been so insolently ogling my wife”.
He takes out his whip.
“On your knees. You will pay for insulting the Queen”.
He would protect you with his life. He swore to protect Jerusalem and, as its Queen, that includes first of all you. Should a courtier doubt your devotion and mistake it for thirst for power, or should he learn of an orchestrated attempt on your life, he would waste no time in employing his best forces in your service to defend you.
His enemies and templars alike fear him, yet with you he is as gentle as the morning breeze that gently caresses Jerusalem. This powerful king who makes armies tremble and kingdoms shake is the same person who holds and kisses your hand (when in public, bringing your fingers to the lips of his mask), who silently admires your loveliness from afar and sighs to himself, who longs for your warmth after a tiring day.
He would write you letters. Lots of them. And not always when he is away. Maybe he just liked the way the sun reflected in your eyes that morning. Or maybe when you helped a servant, he was moved by your kindness. Your every action inspires him, so much so that he has to let out his thoughts on paper. You have a pretty wooden box brimming with delicate papers penned by Baldwin in your honor. He is not only the King of Jerusalem, but also the king of pining, of yearning. Even when he has you near, he yearns for you.
I love to imagine him letting you accompany him to battle. He would love it too, in theory. You make him so strong, the both of you would be quite the sight, meeting your enemies head on, as one, donning your best armors. Yet, at the same time I cannot imagine him resting easy knowing that a loose arrow, a desperate soldier seeking glory for killing the Queen of Jerusalem, or fatigue and sickness could take you from him. It pains his heart to be parted from you, yet he cannot risk your safety. Instead, Baldwin would trust you with ruling the kingdom. He has absolute faith in your intelligence, willpower and cleverness, especially after all he has taught you about running the realm. He longs for you every second he’s away from Jerusalem, yet his heart is at peace knowing his kingdom is in the most capable hands.
When he feels that his time on this Earth is nearing his end, he calls for his most trusted advisors, including Balian and Tiberias. He would ask them, almost begging, to protect you always, at all costs, when he is no longer there to do so. Balian and Tiberias would exchange a quick glance to each other, vowing to respect their King’s wish until the very end.
“Protect her. Please.”
“Always, my Lord”.
Poems, songs and stories would be written in honor of your love even centuries after your passing. Many tales would speak of Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and his Queen. Different pieces of art, such as paintings and ballads, would inspire people from all over the world to find a love as devoted and unshakable as yours. Until the very end.
All in all, to love Baldwin means knowing your time together is limited. As is the time of all creatures on Earth. He would beg you to go on after his passing, to live for him. He shall wait for you and protect you from above. Until the very end.
#king baldwin x reader#king baldwin iv x reader#baldwin iv x reader#baldwin x reader#kingdom of heaven#king baldwin#king baldwin iv#koh#kingdom of heaven imagine#kingdom of heaven imagines#mywriting
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Making this it's own post bcs I don't want to detract from the racism discussion on the last post I reblogged(and also this is rambly as hell, sorry) but like I always find the critique that "x genre of music is only about drinking, sex, and violence" wild bcs....almost ALL music in every genre is about that?? Like with rap/hip-hop it ofc this argument ties directly back to racism but even with other genres that get shit on like country people are like "they just sing about getting beers with the boys and driving their trucks" like???? Yeah, I could grab 50 songs from other genres that are about that and beloved regardless??? Getting beers with the boys is a fucking cherished meme on this webbed site!! Or that one Ed Sheeran song people roast all the time like "how dare he write a song about finding his girl's body attractive" bro, are you new here. 99.9% of popular music is "my partner is really hot and I want to have sex with them" and that's like the ONE song of his I know of that's just about fucking like he writes about other stuff, people just ignore those bcs it doesn't fit the narrative of him being a shallow misogynist everyone here loves to drag around and beat like a dead horse.
Why is this a bad thing when people you don't like do it, but fine when the people you do like do it, huh? Hozier is one of the most popular artists out there rn, this site worships the ground he walks on, and yeah his music has a lot of layers of poetic meaning but a lot of it is just about sex and falling in love and violence and drinking. The two are not mutually exclusive!!
Which is kinda the root of it, them not being mutually exclusive, bcs imo even if a genre was entirely saturated with songs exclusively about drinking and sex(which no genre is, you just haven't gone looking for the other stuff), I just don't think that's a problem or means the music is bad or less artistically meaningful?? I genuinely don't think there's a damn thing wrong with writing a song or twelve about finding someone attractive or talking about the violence a lot of people live with every day of their lives or even just churning out a fun party anthem for people to play while they get white girl wasted at a tailgate. Who cares if the art is shallow, why does it have to be "deep" to be worthy of respect, and why does deep and worthy of respect mean "no sex, violence, or drinking", three things that have been part of the human experience since we fucking became humans!
Honestly if you really are looking down on rap and country for being about sex and drinking and violence I want you to ask yourself why you think some artists should be denied the right to write about shit everyone else is writing about all the damn time to massive critical acclaim. Why should black people and rural poor people and women(bcs this is also a critique I heard a LOT aimed at female pop stars) be denied the right to explore the full spectrum of human experience and emotion in their art. Why do they HAVE to tell stories about something else to be taken seriously when their fellow artists can churn out entire albums full of songs about sex and violence and partying and not have anyone bat a fucking eye.
And, on top of that, please ask yourself why you think that something can't be deep while being about sex, drugs, partying, and violence. Bcs that is some fucking discount moral panic bullshit that needs to get knocked out of your head before it festers and you start insisting people who like horror are weird because violence can't be art.
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Keefe and Ro being the most dynamic of duos
summary: Keefe asked Sophie about things human kids do for fun. Shenanigans ensue
“Okay so this is the list Sophie gave me with explicit instructions.”
“Right.”
“Okay choose one off the list. We’ve got ‘tic tac toe’, ‘jump rope’, something called a nursery rhyme???”
“I like things that rhyme.”
“Okay…” Keefe pulled out the paper with the ‘nursery rhymes instructions’. “We just need to say this out loud I guess?” He shrugged, and placed it between him and Ro.
“Okay, so which one do we read? There’s a lot.” She mumbled, frowning at the paper. Keefe examined the titles.
“Humpty Dumpty sounds fun.”
“Whatever you say. Okay, 3, 2, 1.”
“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.”
Keefe ended it with an obnoxious flourish of his hands, and Ro closed her eyes, bracing herself. Nothing happened.
“Was that seriously it?” Ro asked. Keefe examined the paper.
“Uh, yeah I mean that’s what it says.”
“No way, lemme see.” She snatched the paper away from him, and scanned over the instructions. She frowned. “That was probably the most useless thing I think I've ever seen. Humans have such short lives, why would anyone spend their time doing this?” She asked incredulously, and Keefe only shrugged.
“Should we try a longer one?” He suggested. Ro rolled her eyes, but agreed. “Okay, this one looks decent. We’re saying it together again.” She scoffed, but read over his shoulder.
“Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!”
“...”
“You said that one was longer.”
“It looked longer! There’s a bunch of writing beneath it. Hold on…” Keefe squinted at the paper, then read aloud. “This one is actually interesting because it was based off of the …’bubonic plague’? back in the 1300s. Kids made the song centered around the large welts and sores that covered the infected persons skin, and the ‘ashes’ part is referring to the fact that they…burned the dead and their belongings…to not spread…uh…the virus.” He slowly concluded. He looked anxiously around his fathers backyard, as if some guy with plague written on his forehead was about to attack him.
“Oh…charming.”
“Yeah, you know what? I think I’m done with nursery rhymes for now.” He crumpled up the paper and threw it behind himself.
“How could you?! Your precious Sophie Foster wrote all of that for you!” She mocked, and Keefe shrugged.
“She doesn’t have to know. And if she keeps bringing up stuff like that I might no longer consider her ‘precious’ to me.” He joked, and Ro smacked him over the head.“Okay, okay what do you wanna do next?”
“Hmmm…these all sound lame.”
“Hey! These are things human kids do! I asked for that exactly.” Keefe huffed, going over the long list. “Though, why kids my age would sing stuff like that I have no clue.” He examined the list again. “Okay, what about a ‘thumb war’?” Ro’s eyes lit up.
“Now that sounds cool. What do we do?” She asked, and Keefe went over the paper.
“Okay, you hold my hand like this…then we chant.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m starting to think maybe humans are trying to summon things with their daily activities.”
“What’s the chant blondie?”
“Okay, okay. Here. ‘1, 2, 3, 4, I declare a thumb war. 5, 6, 7, 8, try to keep your thumbs straight.” He shrugged, then read over the rest. “Now we have to try and pin the other's thumb down with our own, so like- AAGH!” He yelped as Ro easily smashed his thumb with hers. He whipped his hand away and cradled it to his chest. “WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”
“Is that not how you play??” She laughed hysterically, watching Keefe rub his sore hand.
“Yeah, I’m vetoing that right now!” He growled, crossing it out with a pencil. “I don’t wanna do this anymore, humans are awful creatures end of story.”
“No, come on! One more.” She laughed, taking up the paper.
“Concentration?”
“No way, mine's already bad enough, I don’t wanna play a game to test that.” Keefe interjected.
“Fair point…tic tac toe then.” She suggested. He shrugged.
“If it involves pulling our toes out, I’m actually going to strangle Sophie and ask why she ever thought of mentioning this to us.” He mumbled. Ro read the paper slowly.
“Alrighty Mr. Whiner, gimme that paper.” She reached out a clawed hand, and he put the paper and pencil into it. She drew the start of the game, 2 lines going down, and 2 going across.
“How do you play?”
“Can you give me a second??” She snapped, and Keefe held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, you’re assigned either Xs or Os, and you have to put them in one of these boxes. The goal is to get three in a row.”
“Finally something that has a point!” He exclaimed, looking at the drawing. “I’ll be Os.”
“Okay then I’m Xs, but I’m going first!” She took the pencil, and drew hers in a random box, then Keefe went. Then Ro, then keefe, and then, Ro whooped and circled the three she got in a row.
“That was easy!” She pumped her fist. “Man, I am soooo good at human games!”
“That’s it!” Keefe yelled, and he tugged out his imparter, practically screaming Sophie’s name into it.
“Oh hey Keefe! How’s it…why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
“Your stupid human games are rigged!” He huffed angrily, pointing at Ro. “She beat me in everything! Why do teenagers play mind numbing games like this!? WHY!?” Sophie was silent, before she broke into hysterical laughter.
“Keefe, you asked for games that KIDS play! Not teenagers!” She cackled, rolling around on her floor. “Well, teenagers can play them, but this was peak entertainment for 10 year olds!” She was wheezing now as Keefe’s ears flamed red.
“WELL IF WE WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO PLAY THEM WHY DID YOU GIVE ME INSTRUCTIONS!?” He yelled indignantly, ignoring Ro laughing so hard she might as well have been screaming.
“YOU ASKED HOW THEY WOULD’VE WORKED, THAT’S WHY I PUT SOME HISTORY INTO IT TOO!” She could barely talk with how hard she was laughing, and Keefe let out a strangled noise before hanging up on her. Ro was rolling in circles on the ground.
“That was too good!” She shrieked, clutching her stomach. Keefe grabbed all his stuff and began marching back to the house.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drown myself in my bathroom sink. Knock if you need me!” He whipped around, leaving Ro to cackle behind him.
taglist below the cut!! Send an ask if you wanna be added :)
@myfairkatiecat @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1
#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc fandom#keefe sencen#sophie foster#ro kotlc#I write about kotlc
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What are your favorite looks from royal weddings, christenings, jubilees, coronations/enthronements, funerals?
For weddings, see this post:
For christenings - I've always generally liked what the moms wear but there just aren't a whole lot of good pictures because they're the ones holding the baby! What I love the most to see at the royal christenings is always how happy, proud, and glowing most of the moms are. I always got an odd vibe from Meghan in Archie's christening pictures - she isn't glowing and happy in those photos as the moms in other christening photos are. In fact, to me, Meghan seemed happier, more glowy, and prouder in the pictures from the Windsor hall when they presented Archie to CBS cameras.
But these two are my favorite looks from royal christenings.
I also really liked Madeleine's look from her first child's christening but couldn't find a good picture of her outfit so I didn't include it. I loved that she wore a floral headpiece and with a floral dress, made her whole look very summery.
For jubilees - I'm just going to do the BRF's 2022 Platinum Jubilee because I don't want go to down a rabbit hole right now.
Here are the ladies:
Kate in Wales (one of my all-time favorite Kate coats)
Beatrice at the Royal Windsor Horse Show Charity Night (one of my all-time favorite Yorkie looks - this is such a slay)
Zara at the Epsom Races (in Mike's hat)
Kate at the Platinum Jubilee Service of Thanksgiving
Sophie Winkleman and Lady Gabriella at the service of thanksgiving.
A couple of notes about the service of thanksgiving - Beatrice and Sophie W. actually wore the same dress in different colors; Beatrice in blue, Sophie in pink. I prefer Sophie's dress and her hat style. Beatrice's dress just looked off, like the fit was just slightly too big.
I didn't mind Eugenie's dress at the service of thanksgiving but the tangerine color with a black hat was all wrong. A more muted orange, like Gabriella's peach, or a darker-hued orange on scale with Sophie’s pink/fuchsia would've worked much better.
And now for the gents:
Mike after the service of Thanksgiving in Zara's hat. Just fab. No words.
August at the jubilee pageant. Who doesn't love a little boy in a heritage sweater? Such a cutie-pie.
For coronations/enthronements
From Charles and Camilla's coronation in 2023:
Queen Matilda, Coronation
Beatrice, Coronation
Penny Mordaunt, Coronation
Empress Crown Princess of Japan, Coronation
Queen Letizia, Pre-Coronation Reception
Queen Jetsun, Pre-Coronation Reception
Lady Louise, Coronation (an all-time favorite look)
Everyone in the procession at the coronation, (except for the Camillas)
Kate, Coronation Garden Party
Kate, Coronation Concert
Princess Anne, Coronation
Major Johnny, Coronation
Yeomen, Garden Party. These guys are just cool.
The only other coronation/enthronement whose fashion I enjoyed was King Willem-Alexander's inauguration. These looks are my favorite:
Maxima, Inauguration
Frederick and Mary, Inauguration
Felipe and Letizia, Inauguration (they became King and Queen a year later)
Mary, Reception (not sure if this was before or after the inauguration. I think it was after or later that day since Willem-Alexander and Maxima’s daughters were wearing the same dresses from the inauguration ceremony). Mary is 💃 personified in that dress.
I also adore the dresses that Leonor and Sofia wore for King Felipe's coronation. I wish we could have seen Charlotte in dresses like these when she was younger, instead of the traditional British smocked dresses.
For funerals - I don’t know about this one. I’m a little uncomfortable focusing on the fashion at such somber occasions. I get why some people do but it’s not for me so respectfully, I’m not sharing about these. People do the best they can during times of grief and we shouldn’t fault them for choices made under duress.
That said, I think Kate looked better at Philip’s funeral and The Queen’s lying-in-state than she did at The Queen’s funeral. Her outfit choice for The Queen’s funeral felt very much like a changeover to The Princess of Wales, where she looked (and probably felt) more like herself at Philip’s funeral and the lying-in-state service.
This concludes the traditional Royal-watching week of commentary. In two weeks, I’ll spend a few days posting about the Sussexes, and opening Pandora’s Box, so if you have opinions/royal-watching questions or just want to light matches with me about the Sussexes, get them in before May 18th to be included.
Back to regular programming.
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Damn Those Marstons
Jack Marston x Fem!Reader.
Hey, RDR fans! I got into RDR2 a few months back and I literally binge watched play throughs of RDR1. This angsty idea for Jack popped up(because he can never be happy😔) and I just had to write it!
Synopsis: You’ve been with Jack for a few months now. When he asks you to meet his family, you would’ve never thought you would be meeting one of the two outlaws who killed your father.
Warnings: Takes place during RDR1(1914)(Jack is nineteen), alternate universe where the Marston family lives a bit longer lol, John uses his fake name ‘Jim Milton’, a little bit of arguing, just really sad angst.
“Can I tell you both somethin’?” Jack piped up at the dinner table, placing his spoon down into his bowl. Abigail and John immediately looked up at him, confusion written on both of their faces. It was pretty unusual for Jack to get all serious at random. Abigail nodded, “Of course. You can tell us anything, Jack.” She reached over, giving a gentle reassuring pat on his shoulder.
John remained quiet, observing his son. If anything, he was quite on edge, not wanting any bad news. Jack took a deep breath before a smile appeared on his face, “I’ve been seeing this lady. God— Ma, you’ll love her! She’s the sweetest, most loving lady you’ll meet.” Jack’s eyes sparkled as he went on a rant about his girlfriend. Abigail and John were shocked in the moment, but then proceeded to smile. They would be lying to themselves if they said they weren’t happy that Jack had finally found someone.
John chuckled as he looked at Abigail, “Looks like our boy is head over heels! When can we meet her, son?” Jack paused, thinking for a moment.
“How about tomorrow?” Jack answered, looking over at his mother, “If that’s okay with you, ma.”
Abigail laughed, nodding her head, “Of course it’s okay with me! I’ll cook a nice dinner for the four of us! I can’t wait to meet her.”
Jack was ecstatic! He was in his bed, looking up at the ceiling being unable to fall asleep. He couldn’t wait for you to meet his family. His mind was racing until he eventually tired himself out.
In the morning Jack was already at your front door. You opened it with a bright smile on your face, “Well I wasn’t expecting you today. Why do you have the dumb smile on your face? What are you planning?” You walked up to him, Jack leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on your forehead.
“I ain’t planning nothin’! Just… Will you come have dinner with my parents? Today?” Jack blurted out. It was evident he was pretty excited about this. You were taken aback by this. Dinner? With his parents?
You giggled sheepishly, “Geez, Jack. I wish you told me this sooner. I don’t think I got any nice clothes to give a good first impression…” Jack shook his head, grabbing your hands into his, “No need for fancy clothes no nothing. My parents don’t care about your wealth. They care about who you are.”
His words melted your heart. Jack bent down, pulling you in for a soft tender kiss. You always loved how gentle he was with you. Once he pulled away, you stepped back into your home, “Let me tell my mother i’ll be gone for a while. Mind waiting out here while I get ready?”
“Anything for you, darlin’.”
-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-)-
After getting ready, Jack helped you onto his horse and rode back to his home. The horse ride wasn’t silent what so ever as Jack couldn’t help but tell you how excited he was. All you could do was smile. It was nice seeing your lover get so excited about something.
Once you both arrive at Beechers Hope, he helped you off of the horse. He held your hand as you both walked up the step of his home. Abigail opened the door with a smile, “Why, hello! You must be the little lady Jack has been talking on and on about!” She walked up to you, giving you a friendly hug.
“Cmon now Ma— Don’t embarrass me like that…” Jack muttered, scratching his head and turning away out of embarrassment. Abigail rolled her eyes, “There’s nothing embarrassing about loving a lady! Now come on in! Dinner is almost ready!” She led you both inside the house, the scent of a good meal in the air.
“Where’s Pa?” Jack questioned, pulling a chair out for you to sit in. Abigail sighed and shrugged, “Joh— I mean, Jim went out a while ago. He said he’ll be back. He most definitely doesn’t want to miss out on this.” She reassured Jack.
Abigail sat down at the table with the both of you. She seemed like a lovely young woman. Sweet yet had a fierce aura to her. She questioned you about your home life, how you met Jack, all the basic questions a parent would ask their child’s lover.
You were honest with her. You told her how it was just you and your mother since your father was killed by some bad people when you were a kid. You spoke about how you only had some insight of two of the men who took your father’s life, hoping you wouldn’t run into them again. You spoke about how you met Jack while shopping for books, how the love for literature brought you both together.
Talking with Abigail felt so natural, both of you didn’t seem to notice someone enter the home. Jack smiled, “Took you long enough, sir.” You turned your head and immediately froze. All you could do was stare at the man with scars on his face.
“Took you long enough, Jim!” Abigail got up, gently slapping her husband’s arm. The man looked at you and smiled, “You must be the lovely lady Jack can’t shut up about! Nice to meet ya! I’m Jim. Jim Milton! You’ve already met Abigail…” You couldn’t hear his words anymore. Everything your boyfriend has told you was a lie.
There was no one named Jim Milton in this home. There wasn’t a Milton at all. The man in front of you was none other than John Marston. Jack wasn’t a Milton either. He was a Marston. They all were.
Your vision became blurry, your ears were ringing so loud. You couldn’t think straight. What could you do? What can you do?
You needed to leave.
“Hun? You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” You snapped back into reality as Jack held your hands gently, looking at you with concern. You gently pushed him away, shaking your head.
“I need to leave. Excuse me.” You pushed Jack out of the way, but he immediately grabbed your wrist. “Hey hey, what’s wrong? Did we do something? Did I do something?” Jack questioned, obviously really confused and concerned.
That’s when you just snapped. You couldn’t take the pain anymore.
“As a matter of fact you did do something. Marston.” You spat at him, Jack instantly taken aback by your outburst. Abigail gasped, her hands cupping over her mouth. John froze, if anything he was terrified at the fact that you knew who they were.
“Is this what people like you do, Marston!? You kill people who had families to go back to while you’re here living a great life with your family!?” You yelled at John. Jack glanced at his father, confused and utterly shocked.
Tears fell from your face as you shook your head, “You took my father from me. I was just a kid… How come you can live your best life, seeing your child grow up… But my father can’t?” You looked at all three of them before looking at Jack,
“I can’t be with the son of an outlaw. Especially to the outlaw that took my father’s life,” You looked back at John and Abigail, “If you’re worried about me telling others about where you live, don’t. I get nothing out of revenge. Just know that your actions will catch up to you. You can never leave your old life to live a new. It happened to my father, it will happen to you.”
You walked towards the front door, “I hope you all enjoy your lives. Goodbye.” With that, you left the home. You heard the front door swing up, footsteps rushing towards you. Turning around, it was Jack.
“Darlin’! Please, don’t leave. Look, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I know my Pa has done some horrible things— But I swear he’s a changed man!” Jack pulled you into an embrace, “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in so long. I— I love you…”
Jack’s words were sincere. They really were. But you couldn’t shake the disgusting feeling off of you. You gently pushed him off from you,
“Jack. I love you— Well… I loved you too. But I know my father would be rolling in his grave knowing I was dating the son of the man who killed him.”
Jack’s heart sunk. He couldn’t do anything but watch you walk away. What can he even say? It wasn’t long until John came out to check up on his son.
John reached down to place a hand on Jack’s shoulder, immediately getting rejected by him. Jack glared at his father, “Damnit old man, You’ve made my life a living hell. I can forgive you for so many other things you’ve done. But this? I don’t know if I can.”
Jack bumped his father’s shoulder as he walked back into the house. Abigail tried to comfort him, but he immediately shut that down. John and Abigail had a lot to talk about.
It took you a long while to get back home. Your mother greeted you with a loving smile, but all you could do was cry in her arms. She didn’t question nor judge you, she did what a mother does best and held you. Telling you it was going to be okay.
Damn those Marstons.
Damn that sweet loving boy you fell in love with.
And damn your heart for still loving him.
#red dead redemption#jack marston#jack marston x reader#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr#john marston#abigail marston
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It's just like walking in heels! That is, if the heels were hooves and you hated them so much.
#ic#Stumbling like a newborn foal!!#Also... I hear clip-clopping in my hive.#I think “Why is there a horse in here?”#GIRL YOU ARE THE HORSE!!
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I have a lot of complicated feelings when it comes to what Neflix has done with the Witcher, but my probably least favourite is the line of argumentation that originated during shitstorms related to the first and second season that I was unlucky to witness.
It boils down to "Netflix's reinterpretation and vision is valid, because the Witcher books are not written to be slavic. The overwhelming Slavic aestetic is CDPR's interpretation, and the setting in the original books is universally European, as there are references to Arthurian mythos and celtic languages"
And I'm not sure where this argument originated and whether it's parroting Sapkowski's own words or a common stance of people who haven't considered the underlying themes of the books series.
Because while it's true that there are a lot of western european influences in the Witcher, it's still Central/Eastern European to the bone, and at its core, the lack of understanding of this topic is what makes the Netflix series inauthentic in my eyes.
The slavicness of the Witcher goes deeper than the aestetics, mannerisms, vodka and sour cucumbers. Deeper than Zoltan wrapping his sword with leopard pelt, like he was a hussar. Deeper than the Redanian queen Hedvig and her white eagle on the red field.
What Witcher is actually about? It's a story about destiny, sure. It's a sword-and-sorcery style, antiheroic deconstruction of a fairy tale, too, and it's a weird mix of many culture's influences.
But it's also a story about mundane evil and mundane good. If You think about most dark, gritty problems the world of Witcher faces, it's xenophobia and discrimination, insularism and superstition. Deep-seated fear of the unknown, the powerlessness of common people in the face of danger, war, poverty and hunger. It's what makes people spit over their left shoulder when they see a witcher, it's what makes them distrust their neighbor, clinging to anything they deem safe and known. It's their misfortune and pent-up anger that make them seek scapegoats and be mindlessly, mundanely cruel to the ones weaker than themselves.
There are of course evil wizards, complicated conspiracies and crowned heads, yes. But much of the destruction and depravity is rooted in everyday mundane cycle of violence and misery. The worst monsters in the series are not those killed with a silver sword, but with steel.
it's hard to explain but it's the same sort of motiveless, mundane evil that still persist in our poorer regions, born out of generations-long poverty and misery. The behaviour of peasants in Witcher, and the distrust towards authority including kings and monarchs didn't come from nowhere.
On the other hand, among those same, desperately poor people, there is always someone who will share their meal with a traveller, who will risk their safety pulling a wounded stranger off the road into safety. Inconditional kindness among inconditional hate. Most of Geralt's friends try to be decent people in the horrible world. This sort of contrasting mentalities in the recently war-ridden world is intimately familiar to Eastern and Cetral Europe.
But it doesn't end here. Nilfgaard is also a uniquely Central/Eastern European threat. It's a combination of the Third Reich in its aestetics and its sense of superiority and the Stalinist USSR with its personality cult, vast territory and huge army, and as such it's instantly recognisable by anybody whose country was unlucky enough to be caught in-between those two forces. Nilfgaard implements total war and looks upon the northerners with contempt, conscripts the conquered people forcibly, denying them the right of their own identity. It may seem familiar and relevant to many opressed people, but it's in its essence the processing of the trauma of the WW2 and subsequent occupation.
My favourite case are the nonhumans, because their treatment is in a sense a reminder of our worst traits and the worst sins in our history - the regional antisemitism and/or xenophobia, violence, local pogroms. But at the very same time, the dilemma of Scoia'Tael, their impossible choice between maintaining their identity, a small semblance of freedom and their survival, them hiding in the forests, even the fact that they are generally deemed bandits, it all touches the very traumatic parts of specifically Polish history, such as January Uprising, Warsaw Uprising, Ghetto Uprising, the underground resistance in WW2 and the subsequent complicated problem of the Cursed Soldiers all at once. They are the 'other' to the general population, but their underlying struggle is also intimately known to us.
The slavic monsters are an aestetic choice, yes, but I think they are also a reflection of our local, private sins. These are our own, insular boogeymen, fears made flesh. They reproduce due to horrors of the war or they are an unprovoked misfortune that descends from nowhere and whose appearance amplifies the local injustices.
I'm not talking about many, many tiny references that exist in the books, these are just the most blatant examples that come to mind. Anyway, the thing is, whether Sapkowski has intended it or not, Witcher is slavic and it's Polish because it contains social commentary. Many aspects of its worldbuilding reflect our traumas and our national sins. It's not exclusively Polish in its influences and philosophical motifs of course, but it's obvious it doesn't exist in a vacuum.
And it seems to me that the inherently Eastern European aspects of Witcher are what was immediately rewritten in the series. It seems to me that the subtler underlying conflicts were reshaped to be centered around servitude, class and gender disparity, and Nilfgaard is more of a fanatic terrorist state than an imposing, totalitarian empire. A lot of complexity seems to be abandoned in lieu of usual high-fantasy wordbuilding. It's especially weird to me because it was completely unnecessary. The Witcher books didn't need to be adjusted to speak about relevant problems - they already did it!
The problem of acceptance and discrimination is a very prevalent theme throughout the story! They are many strong female characters too, and they are well written. Honestly I don't know if I should find it insulting towards their viewers that they thought it won't be understood as it was and has to be somehow reshaped to fit the american perpective, because the current problems are very much discussed in there and Sapkowski is not subtle in showing that genocide and discrimination is evil. Heck, anyone who has read the ending knows how tragic it makes the whole story.
It also seems quite disrespectful, because they've basically taken a well-established piece of our domestic literature and popular culture and decided that the social commentary in it is not relevant. It is as if all it referenced was just not important enough and they decided to use it as an opportunity to talk about the problems they consider important.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not forcing anyone to write about Central European problems and traumas, I'm just confused that they've taken the piece of art already containing such a perspective on the popular and relevant problem and they just... disregarded it, because it wasn't their exact perspective on said problem.
And I think this homogenisation, maybe even from a certain point of view you could say it's worldview sanitisation is a problem, because it's really ironic, isn't it? To talk about inclusivity in a story which among other problems is about being different, and in the same time to get rid of motifs, themes and references because they are foreign? Because if something presents a different perspective it suddenly is less desirable?
There was a lot of talking about the showrunners travelling to Poland to understand the Witcher's slavic spirit and how to convey it. I don't think they really meant it beyond the most superficial, paper-thin facade.
#The witcher#Sorry if its convoluted I just got reminded of something and it made me a little angry#and as I had this conversation a lot of times I've decided to put it into written text#sorry about being bitter#but these are some of my favourite books and I'm still upset when I get reminded how badly they were treated in the recent adaptation#I'm not saying you should never change anything#But it's good to have enough background to understand why some things are the way they are in the original#and to understand what the source material is about#we don't talk about particular character's looks or something (altough I feel they could care more about it too)#but central themes tropes and motifs#long post#it may seem like I'm talking from a high horse here#people are welcome to interpret literature however they want#Nobody has a monopol on themes#I just think that in this particular case the cultural context influences the worldbuilding#and if changed it doesn't have the same impact anymore#meta
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About those new masks..
So i saw this take a few times already and i have some thoughts. Obviously it's paraphrasing but you'll see these a lot similar to this if you scroll in ST spaces since yesterday:
"These new masks have too much personality, they said the people behind the music is uniportant but they now have this new personalized look instead of the uniform sleek minimalist one and it is the direct opposite of what they are saying. These new looks do not fit Sleep Token"
Let me preface this: I'm not going to explore specific reasons why people might hate on the masks because... No i refuse to go there, but i will talk about the issues i have around this a bit.
No.
If you are hating on the new masks so much so as to cry about that "this is not what they supposed to be about" you are missing your own point. You are in fact shooting the opposite direction. You are no longer in it for "just the music" but you are very much caught upon the "everything else beside the music." You got distracted. You putting the blame on them instead on yourself for loosing your own point.
There is no moral highground in this whole ordeal. Please respect yourself enought to try not to look utterly stupid if you frothing about something you visibly misunderstood. Do not hide behind excuses. Do not put this on the artists. Own up to the fact that you simple don't like it.
Admit that it's your opinion purely; because ultimately the artist creating their own art will understand creative choices behind their creations more than you ever will. No matter how far you try to bend backwards.
The masks fit Sleep Token because it is Sleep Token who decided to have them. End of story. You can hate it all you want but it is still part of the shabang now. And don't try to mask your distaste over visuals with shouting about the artist not understanding their own ideology.
If you are so hung up on how they look like, more than what the music still is, than stop and think for a second please..
You have it backwards. If you really truly only care about the music, what it is about, what it gives you, than you are not going to give a shit what they are wearing on stage.
Maybe in a passing few sentences but otherwise you are not going to be worked up about it to the point you sent hatecomments to the artist who made them.. It is shameful.
Besides i hate to break it to people but they already had their personalities with their outfits just not this strongly. III had the random whacky shit. IV had the hint's of this comfy leisurly punk-ish techwear whatever going on besides the fancy stuff the past a months since the summer. II had a slightly sleeker but maybe sort of tech-ish look which is now reflected (in my opinion) much more strongly with this new look (which sorta reminds me of a stylized oni or something tbh and that is extremely in line with their older far-east inspired thematics visually, just saying).
They are not handing you the "we are unimportant" part anymore. They are not spoonfeeding it to you. Not in the way they had before at least. They presume you are mature and smart enough at this point to get it. To get to the conclusion that it is unimportant what they look like. And allow them to still have fun with it.
Or just they are being cheeky and went for something that would shake up the people. I don't know, i don't know them or anyone close to them. I don't have answers. But they are trying something new an it is perfectly fine.
Also which would have come off so much differently if Vessel is 100% btw. Be honest, if they would have been able to perform to their fullest abilities, far less people would be so loud over this.. This was just an unfortunate turn of events and when shit hits the fan it usually never just one dose. And my heart breaks for the boys for all this.
Besides, people were so loud about hating that "they looked the same" and "so hard to distinguish" and "easy to replace because of this" ... now they have personalized masks and looks and the same people cry about the exact opposite they did before..
Also it just occured to me that this is basically the same as the lightshow upgrade. It gives you something to look at at the rituals. The new looks are visually interesting, and with the lighting setup they have now they are gonna look like some seriously fun nightmare creatures btw. I love that already.
So all in all i don't know, i don't really have a point here i guess, but the boys are in such a no win situation right now and i hate the fact that people are shitting on them just because they don't fit their idea of "an anonymous collective" anymore. Which is reddiculous and sad because nothign has changed.
It never was about being a blank page. It was about being human. It flies over so many peoples head but the anonymity part isn't about not being a person under there. It is being about that person not having a name. It doesn't matter if the person has a personality or not. What matter there is that no name.
There is no definitiveness. It gives an open invitation for anyone to step into that person but first you need to recognise that there is a person there. And there is no doing that if there are no traces of personality. Or humanity if you will because personalities makes us humans. Don't make me hold a philosophy lecture here on what it means being human please.
It does not matter who that individual it is by tagging a name on them. But it is extremely important that there is a person there. Otherwise there is no connection point. If there is no person there is nothing to understand. But it does not matter how that person looks like. It does not matter what the person wears. Or what that person is called. What matters is that it is a human being. And as such you can understand it. Our at least you should be able to.
Regardless of the design of a mask.
#there is so much more there i could bring up and talk about but i have stuff to do today so i can't get hung up on it too much#but i hope it comes through what i'm trying to convey here#i'm not trying to hate on people not liking the masks because it is an extremely valid opinion#i hate people trying to mask it as a thing about sleep token loosing sight of their own thing#please do not try to hide behind stupid shit like 'this is not what they talked about'#cut the bullshit#grow up#and own up to the fact that you are visually do not like something#there is no need for a moral high horse in this case#you can dislike something for the aesthetic#but again. please do yourself a favour and try not to look utterly stupid about something you only half understand appearently#i'd say i'm sorry if i offended anyone here but i'm prepared for getting shit over this anyway so no i'm not apologizing#if you feel offended by this maybe this is your reminder that maybe you should think it through why you feel targeted#✌🏻#sleep token
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Not to be an insufferable Shakespeare girl on main but, a lot of Slow Horses reminds me of him, the way it utilizes how tragic yet utterly stupid and comedic violence can be. (BTW, This is very much inspired by @saulbetter 's very cool observation of how the show uses Webb as a living example of escalated violence, the crash test dummy that suffers increasingly real consequences, lol)
One of my favorite plays is Titus Andronicus, especially because of an interpretation by Peter Sacks called “non-mourning”. I’m really condensing it here, but in essence it’s about how Titus is a story so filled with blood, revenge, tragedy, and (at times ridiculous) violence that it makes the characters completely breathless. There is no time to mourn, only to react. The mourning itself is expressed by increasingly horrific murders etc.
Season 3 of Slow Horses is not only the most violent, but also the most fast paced so far. It all takes place over the course of, like, one day. That is crazy. The deaths we see on screen are also very blunt. They are quick, brutal, final, and both avoidable yet inevitable. That makes the conversation River and Louisa are afforded for ca. five minutes before disaster stand out so much. And after everything in the end, Louisa is just like “Okay, bye”, which is the opposite of a healthy reaction. While River goes to see the person he is already mourning (not lost, losing) who goes on to give him a genuine reason to mourn– not because grandpa is slowly drifting away, but because he is also destroying the image River has of him and MI5 in the process. This is like when everyone mourns Lavinia, even though she is still alive, only that she happens to be a living reminder of loss (!).
Finally, as an aside, I also have to think of how Donovan and Webb are positioned in this story arc. Slow Horses and Titus Andronicus both have a sort of cyclical (or perhaps pyramidical?) nature of violence going. However, back to the beginning of the post now, Webb as a character seems to inspire violence, though never directly carrying out any. The tragic comic aspect is that it circles back around to him no matter what he does or doesn’t do. On the other hand, Donovan wants revenge/retaliation for what happened. His journey starts with violence carried out against his lover, he continues to carry it out as a reaction, then it circles back to him, eventually destroying him (and others), too. Hauntingly, the last part of the chain is presented by the sister who is no longer a sister when Lamb leaves her at that hospital, is she?
#long post#lol#girl who has read an ungodly amount of shakespeare and shakespeare scholars: huh ya know this reminds me of something...#i also think there is a different aspect at play here which is-- who enjoys violence and why and to what extent?#i think that would be a really interesting part 2 to this#because i didn't even mention shirley and marcus#slow horses#river cartwright#louisa guy#james spider webb
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28 for the ask game !!!!! ^_^
28: do you collect anything?
send me a number!! 💌
#also very fun conversation starters!!! i like to think it helps people get to know me a little#my favorite pairs rn are my spirited away soot sprite socks and my i need to pee socks#the soot sprite socks are knitted and the material is nice and breathable. and it has a cable knit along the middle its rly cute ^_^#the i need to pee socks is like this guy on a horse and hes holding a flag that says 'i need to pee.' and at the foot it says 'again'#that one is actually one out of three blue q socks which are probably my favorite brand cause theyre so silly and good quality#the other ones say pro wrestling!! why? because!! and these wrestlers beating each other up. on the sole it has a guy#saying somebody bring me a folding chair!! and the third one says 'i am going to get shit done' and on the sole it says 'later'#id love to get more blue q socks but theyre a little hard to find around here besides ordering online#i wear different funny socks every day of the week and its fun to see peoples look of delight when i show them#ask#ask game#answered#doodles#yapping
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daigos voice is so calming mann i love it so much
genuinely and honestly top five most soothing voices to listen to
#snap chats#big love how he hardly yells too .... hi bestie ..... can you read me the entirety of war and peace#i love his voice so much me thinks its a big part of his charisma ... lol ......#making me feel like a wild horse lost in someones yard and here he come with a carrot and some horse feed#like whatever you say big man ill hang around .... i like your vibes idfk why you're 'sh'ing me but go on ....
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