#Elizabeth: I make bad decisions it's just what I do -

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

#history media #this was written months ago im posting it to get it out of my drafts #it wasn't necessarily BAD. it was generic and readable. but it was very disappointing and misleading and its conclusion was just nonsense #listen I have no patience for the dumbfuck idea that edward somehow had the ultimate responsibility for his own son's deposition because #of his 'policies' during his reign. like I said it's based fully on hindsight and entirely devoid of actual context. it's bafflingly stupid #literally everyone expected Edward V to succeed his father and 'both hoped for and expected' (Croyland's own words) a successful reign #Edward V's deposition was richard and solely Richard's fault lol this should not be difficult to understand #the reason Richard's usurpation was possible in the first place was bcause everyone expected E5 to succeed and didn't expect Richard #do to what he did. nothing would have happened without his initiative and decisions. it had nothing to do with Edward's 'policies' #Edward's policies were fine. henry vii - who pollard vaunts to no end - literally *followed* them #and claiming that he failed to unite England under the Yorkist dynasty is just plain stupid #buddy if he truly failed at that then neither Richard III nor Henry VII would have thrones lol. both emphasized continuity with #him when aiming for the throne. like the whole point of 1483-85 was that it was a conflict WITHIN the 'Yorkist' dynasty #it was not an external threat against it. #'his legacy failed' his legacy didn't fail his brother destroyed it (while also presenting himself as his heir because logic what's logic?) #henry's victory was very much the triumph of his legacy (a claimant chosen by his supporters as the husband of his daughter) #like this is really not my interpretation it is literally what happened #i'm not trying to glorify e4 but his son did inherit the throne in a more advantageous circumstances than any other minor king of england #and frankly than most other adult kings. dumping blame on Edward's literal corpse rather than acknowledge Richard's agency is so tasteless #the problem isn't that edward made a mistake in trusting his brother. many other kings including Henry V also trusted theirs. #the problem is that his brother was willing to break that trust in a way that was unprecedented and broke all political norms of that age #ie: Richard's usurpation occurred because of Richard who re-ignited conflict to make himself king. please drill this into your head #also btw this illogical 'interpretation' is based entirely on Charles Ross' hatred and derision towards Elizabeth Woodville and her family #if you agree with this inteterpretation you agree with his vilification of them 🤷🏻‍♀️ #anyway if you want a better interpretation that's actually analytical and looks a relevant rather than a flawed retrospective perspective #i would recommend rosemary horrox's 'richard iii: a study of service' and david horspool's 'richard iii: a ruler and his reputation' #anyway one last time: STOP downplaying Richard's agency and actions. historians who do this are stupid and embarrassing. bye. #(i should really post horspool's glorious takedown of ross and Pollard huh? it was very entertaining to read)

[a-small-tired-lonely-potato]

Elizabeth having growing pains in her tatas once she gets pregnant with Tristan and trying not to complain while out with the sins but heaving a little and crossing her arms to hold herself.

Diane: Hmm? What's wrong Princess?

Meliodas: You know you don't have to call her that anymore right? And besides, she's not even a princess anymor-

Diane: SHUUUUSSSSSHHHH Captain, her bestie is talking. What's wrong?

Elizabeth: I-It's nothing, j-just some pain.

Diane: Oh, is he kicking already?

Elizabeth: No. Well, yes, but that's, uhhh, not really what it is.

Diane: Hmm? Then wha-

King: Here you go, princess, this tea should help with the growing pains, and don't worry, its completely safe for the baby.

Elizabeth: Oh!? Uh, thank you King, how did you-

King: Ha, you've been distracted by it since you got here, I read hearts remember?

Elizabeth: Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother anyone.

King: It's not a bother! I remember how hard growing pains could be, so don't even worry.

Meliodas: Oof, was it this bad with Diane?

Diane: Actually, no, mine stayed pretty much the same size. And when they did grow it wasn't that bad.

King: No, Diane was perfectly fine. I'm talking about me.

Meliodas: ... Huh?

Ban: *Whips his head around so fast his neck makes a crack noise that echoes like a gunshot* HUH!?

King: Yeah, when I first grew those damn things it was so painful it basically decided my gender for me, haha.

Elaine: Oh please, you were still undecided even while growing them, you only stuck with your choice after you met Diane. You're terrible with making decisions, you take forever, Sin of Sloth indeed.

King: Hey! I didn't see you choosing yours either! Not even after you met Ban! So what's up with that!?

Elaine: I was taking my time so I could be sure, you were just lazy.

King: HOW DARE-

Ban & Meliodas:

And that was how they found out about the Fairy Gender not existing until they want it to.

Later~

Gowther: So what happens if one never decides to stick with one? Do they get one selected randomly?

King: Oh God no, no they just have both.

Gowther: Both?

King: Or neither. Whichever they choose.

Gowther: Fascinating.

King: Yeah, Helbram had both, and Fairy King Gloxinia decided to forgo it. Ha, getting stuck with only One gender, that's funny Gowther, your humor has gotten way better.

Elizabeth: That's how it is for humans.

King: ... Huh?

Elizabeth: We just have the one we're born with. That's all we really get. From what I remember, trying to change it doesn't really end well, I think that's what got me killed once.

King, horrified: Oh my God.

Elizabeth: Yeah, burning at the stake sucked.

#me crawling out of the woodworks to poat this shit: HELLÕ DÂRLÍNGß!!! #nnt #4kota #four knights of the apocalypse #seven deadly sins #ban #meliodas #elizabeth #gowther #diane #Jericho: yeah being a girl sucks. #Elaine: Then... just change it??? Why do you keep it if you don't like it?? Weird #Jericho: ????? #Elaine #Jericho #king discovers human gender is and is horrified

[604to647]

Safest with You - Ch. 2 (The Bookstore)

1.7K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You run into a familiar stranger at a bookshop after work.

Warnings: None! All fluff: our meet cute continues in a second location.

A/N: Thank you for the kind words and encouragement on Ch. 1 🥹 This takes place at the end of the day following the events of The Coffeeshop (Series Masterlist).There's a Paz mention (he took over from Din as head of security for the Fett family when Din retired), and a Peli mention too! 😊 I didn't set out to do dual POV, but it veered in that direction a little bit - if you have any tips on writing in this style, please do kindly share! Thank you!

You work late, as usual, and find yourself with just enough time to run across the street to your favourite independent bookstore downtown before heading out to dinner with some friends.  It’s actually such a funny little store to be tucked away amidst all the concrete skyscrapers, but you’re grateful it exists – a friendly, cozy haven that you often find yourself visiting at the end of a long work day.  Today, you’ve come expressly to pick up multiple copies of the latest release in a fantasy series that a few of your dinner friends are reading.  After picking up four copies, you give in to the temptation to look around the shop for something to add to your ever growing TBR pile.

---

Din spots you from his spot in the bookstore window before you even come in.  He’s supposed to be keeping watch for the target in his assigned area, but the truth is he’s been distracted thinking about you all day.  He had noticed you in the coffeeshop this morning even before the kerfuffle with that scrawny punk in the grey suit, but after having spent a little time with you, he hasn't been able to get your pretty smile and sweet voice out of his mind.  He had been touched by the way you took care of an old lady you didn’t even know; but it was after your warmth had radiated to his hand when you had warned him of the sharp porcelain shards, that you truly became unforgettable.  He admired the way you had diffused the situation this morning; not many had the talent to calm and soothe him with a single touch. It was especially striking since he had seen a fiery spark in your eyes when you had admonished that jerk in the grey suit.  The way you could be so sweet, but then tap into such passion at a moment’s notice, had him grinning to himself positive he would not want to get on your bad side. What a woman.

Din watches you bounce into the store and make a beeline for the new releases table.  With amusement, he sees you select multiple copies of the same book, but not before picking up and examining all the copies on the table, and choosing only the ones that pass your careful inspection.  After you disappear between the stacks, Din makes the split second decision to leave his post (he and Paz had planned for multiple sightlines covering each location.  It should be fine.).  Going first to the till to discreetly pay for the books that he saw you pick up, Din then ducks into the back of the store where he saw you wander off to.

He finds you straightening up the piles of books on a table labelled “BookTok Faves” and wonders if you’re organizing a mess you had stumbled upon or one you had created by searching through the copies looking for the “crispiest” covers.  He finds both possibilities to be equally charming.

“Hi.”

You look up, completely taken by surprise to see the handsome Quad Ice stranger from this morning looking at you with an adorable grin, and you can’t help but smile back, “Hi!  It’s you.”

Din chuckles, “Yes, it’s me.”

Right away you think of the events of this morning, “Oh!  Was everything okay with the old lady after I left?”

Din isn’t at all surprised that your first thought is to ask after someone else.  He tells you everything: how he waited with Elizabeth for her cappuccino to be called, how he learned she’s in the city visiting her twin grandchildren (one girl, one boy), and how he saw her to and sat with her at a prime window seat in the coffee shop for a little bit, and that when he left, she was halfway through the delicious coffee cake, which she had insisted he take a bite of.

You delight in these details and you tell him so as you thank him for his thoughtfulness.

“What about you?  How was the rest of your day?”

You note that it’s kind of him to ask and let him know that you had a perfectly lovely day, “…and to think, some spilled coffee on my clothes didn’t make a lick of difference to the people I work with.  Imagine that!”  You have a twinkle in your eye, and Din laughs along with you, not even trying to hide how mesmerized he is by the sound of your giggles.

He points at the stain on your skirt that he remembers seeing this morning and offers, “Well, if you need a good dry cleaner, my friend runs ‘Peli’s Drycleaning’ on 14th.  If you say Din sent you, they might try extra hard not to lose your clothes.”

“Oh!  Thank you!  I have a great relationship with my dry cleaners… I spill a lot,” you joke, “but I appreciate the offer so much …Din.”  You try out his name and find that you love the way it sounds rolling off your tongue; you introduce yourself and give him your hand when he holds out his.  His huge hand completely dwarfs yours, and as he holds your hand for a moment longer than necessary, you feel how strong and rough his palm and thick fingers are and think you might like the feel of his hands even more than the feel of his name.

To snap yourself out of a daydream state that is barreling towards inappropriate thoughts such as where else you might like those hands and fingers, you take the opportunity to thank Din for everything he did this morning.  “Thank you again for all your help this morning; I’m really glad you were there.”

“You look like you had it under control,” Din smiles, but his brow furrows remembering, “but I didn’t like the way that guy spoke to you and Elizabeth.  He was really out of line.  No one should be speaking to anyone else like that.”

“Oh, sadly I feel like that’s more common than it should be around here.  There’s always some puffed up finance guy that thinks he can yell his way to the top,” you roll your eyes.  Over your career you’ve definitely met your fair share of douche bag finance bros; luckily, you’ve also learned that arrogance and false bravado aren’t the only way to get ahead.  You have a feeling that the man standing in front of you is a testament to the fact that strength and authority can come from calm and consideration. “You don’t work around here?” you ask Din.

Din shakes his head, “No, just have a work assignment that has me down here for the day.  I don’t usually come downtown.”  Din light heartedly jokes, “Which is lucky for our coffee-stained friend, you might not be around next time to calm me down if I were to see him again.”

You remember the electricity that had emanated from Din this morning when you had touched his clenched fists and remember the sense of safety you had felt then; you feel it now, just being in his presence.  You give Din a glowing smile, “Well, I hope his meeting went well and that no one noticed his stains, so he was thoroughly ashamed of himself for the rest of the day for the way he acted.”

“You’re much nicer than me.  I have been actively hoping all day that his meeting didn’t go well.”

“Well.  I think you’re very nice,” you look up shyly.

Din smiles back.  How are you so sweet? He is about to ask you if you’re free for dinner, when the phone in his hand buzzes.  He looks down to see a text from Paz that the target has been spotted and the location that everyone needs to converge at now. “Oh.  Shoot. I have to go.  I’m sorry.”

You’re a little surprised by the abrupt end to the conversation, but Din genuinely looks sorry to be leaving, “Of course!  Good luck with.. your thing!  It was nice to see you again.”

“You too.”  Din has already started to move towards the bookstore exit, but he tries to convey his regret at having to leave you with his forlorn expression.  He’s not sure if he will ever see you again, and he swallows the lump in this throat at that thought, doing his best to memorize your pretty face and the sweet way you’re waving goodbye.

After Din leaves you let out a deep sigh.  Would you ever see Din again?  He didn’t work downtown, so your chances of running into him at the coffeeshop or this bookstore again were probably nil. And you didn’t know anything about him other than his first name and the fact that he was kind and funny, with puppy dog eyes you could lost in, and big strong hands that would feel so good around… stop it.  You exhale another melancholy breath and wish you had had a little more time with Din, maybe you could have gotten his number or something.  You resign yourself to having to forget your handsome Quad Ice.

To fill this new emotional void, you add a couple more books to your purchase pile and you make your way over to the cashier.  After she scans your items, she pushes the stack back towards you and says, “It’s all taken care of!”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

“The gentleman who was here earlier paid for your books already.”

Din? “The gentleman?  The one with the dark fluffy hair with greys in it?” You describe what Din was wearing as well, still in disbelief.

“That’s the guy!  He actually gave me a lot more than what’s needed to cover your books, so you can grab some more stuff if you want.  He said to keep paying for people’s books until it ran out, so if there’s anything else you want to get, go ahead.”

“No, that’s ok…I’m sure the next person will appreciate the gesture,” you say, absentmindedly, other thoughts racing through your head, “Wait.. did he leave a number or anything, some way I can contact him to thank him?”

“I actually asked him if wanted to do that, but he said he wouldn’t want you to feel obligated because of the books to call him; he just wants you to enjoy the gift.”  Your breath hitches a little; the cashier notices and says, “I know, right?” She gives you a dreamy look, which you mirror back.

Well so much for forgetting your handsome Quad Ice.

Thank you for reading! First two lines of Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner):

“He bought you books?!?”

“Well technically, he bought us all books.”

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern au #no y/n #meet cute #fluff

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part XI: Horseshoe Overlook vii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

summary: Arthur has to break Micah out of jail, leaving you to work a livestock job with John. Hell breaks loose in Valentine, and once again you're forced to leave or die.

a/n: I love this chapter, angst, fluff, a fight, shootouts!! AH. Also if you speak german, I'm so sorry if I butchered the translations. I tried my best. Also tumblr formatting is a pain in the ass, so im sorry for that too lol

warnings: violence, graphic depictions of violence

beta read by @margowritesthings

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

The red, cotton sheets are soft against your skin as you wake up, blinking away the fog of sleep. Sunlight shines in through the french doors, making the room almost too bright as your eyes adjust to the light. But, the most important thing that you notice is the absence of that familiar, solid, warmth beside you. Your head pops up from the pillow, squinting as you scan the room. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake ya.” Arthur mumbles, morning voice deep in his chest. Your eyes flicker up to him, buttoning the cuff buttons of his shirt. He glances down at you from his position by the dresser, smiling at your messy hair. The sheets are wrapped around you, leaving your shoulders and back bare, and he runs his eyes over the skin he’d spent all night kissing. 

“You were right.” He nods to you, and you sit up on the plush bed, looking down at yourself. 

“What?” You ask, looking down over your skin until you see exactly what he means.

“Left a mark or two, like you said.”

“Shit, Arthur.” You sigh, tossing the blankets off of you as you stand and move to the mirror. There's a few off-colored splotches on your neck and collarbone, love bites that Arthur has left you. You inspect them in the mirror, pulling your hair around to see if it will cover the marks. You hear Arthur’s boots against the floor as he walks up behind your bare form. 

“To remember me, just till I'm back.” Arthur chuckles, hands finding your waist as he stares at your reflection in the full length mirror. You frown, remembering that today Arthur has to break Micah out of jail. You’ve been enjoying the absence of his loud, foul mouth and stench that follows him like a bad shadow.

"Be careful. Don't do nothin' heroic for that bastard." You say, turning around in his arms to face him.

"For Micah? Course not." Arthur chuckles, leaning down to press a slow, bittersweet kiss to your lips. You know he can handle his own, but the idea of a jail spring in West Elizabeth unnerves you. You lean into him, lips locking for a moment before you pull away. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders, and then you slide them to his neckline to straighten the collar of his shirt. 

"Be careful, mister." You whisper to him, sighing as he pulls away from you. 

“Always am.” He says, and then he’s out the door, on his way to Strawberry for goddamn Micah. It gets under your skin that Dutch is sending him, but you know better than to openly question his decisions. 

After the door clicks shut, you take your time getting ready. You put the same clothes on from the previous day, and despite a few wrinkles, they’re good as new. You grab your satchel, gunbelt, and hat, putting yourself together before checking once more over the room and heading out. The stairs creak under your feet as you walk down into the check in area, finding that the familiar hotel clerk is waiting behind the desk. 

“Good mornin’ miss, I hope you’ll stay again!” He greets, and you chuckle. Just yesterday he was begging you not to beat anyone to death in his hotel, now he’s asking for you to come back. 

“Sure will!” You lie, knowing that you’ll be moving soon, hopefully. You’d like to come back, last night was definitely one of the best in your life, thanks to Arthur and the All Saints Hotel, a deceiving name, you think. 

It's warmer than usual when you open the door, and the sun shines down from between the clouds, casting the town in a mix of light and shadows. You stay on the sidewalk, smiling softly at the people you walk past on the way to the gunsmith’s. 

It’s nostalgic, going into the gunsmith’s shop. It reminds you of your father, and when you open the door, the smell of freshly polished oak and gun oil mix together, bringing back memories from years ago.

“Ah, your guns are ready, miss!” The smith greets when he hears the bell on the door knob jingle. You step towards the counter, waiting as he puts both pointer fingers in the air before dipping behind an open door into the backroom. 

“William did fine work with these, miss! I think you’ll be impressed. He’s damn quick too, they’re ready for ya.” The man yells from behind the wall, and you tap your fingers on the counter in anticipation. After a few moments, he steps around the corner. He places your carbine and revolver down on the counter carefully, and you nearly gasp in awe. 

Firstly, the sight of them together, clean, with improved sights, stocks, and barrels is something to admire. They look like a proper set, and you can’t wait to see what they’ll look like on your hip and shoulder. 

Your attention goes to your carbine first, and the dark leather stock wrap that beautifully contrasts the silver-colored gun. Stars, large and small, connected by thin dotted lines pattern your gun, engraved into the barrel.

“Wow.” You exhale, tracing your hand over the constellations. The gunsmith smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. 

Then you flicker your eyes to your revolver, and your jaw nearly drops. The same constellations pattern the gun, but on the grip is a howling wolf, head thrown back in a howl amongst the stars. It’s perfect. You clear your throat, realizing you’ve been gawking and stuck in your head. 

“Sorry- it’s just that they’re so beautiful…” You say, blushing before reaching into your satchel, “How much do I owe you?” You ask, grabbing a wad of cash out. The gunsmith shakes his head, placing his hand up to stop you. 

“These have already been paid for, you’re good to go, miss.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, and the gunsmith speaks up to clarify. 

“The feller you came in with yesterday, he stopped by about…” He glances at the clock on the wall, “twenty minutes ago and paid in full.”

Your confused look falls into a huff, and you chew on your cheek, 

“Course he did.” You smile. You’ll get Arthur back for this. He does not need to spend any more money on you, let alone something this expensive. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day.” The gunsmith says as you holster your revolver and swing your carbine strap over your shoulder. 

“Sure seems to be. Thank you, mister.” You say, turning back towards the door.

He waves as you exit the store, walking back down the street to grab Athena from the hitching post.

— — — —

It’s fairly quiet when you get back to camp, as most of the boys are out working. Charles is out hunting bison, and Javier found some abandoned house up north filled with hillbillies and gold. Arthur has gone to get Micah, and most of the other boys are out on odd jobs and the like. 

You hop down from Athena in search of a task to keep yourself busy. Your stomach was flipping the whole ride home, thinking about Micah coming back to camp. It’s been peaceful without him, and you know that as soon as he returns, he’ll break the little balance that the camp has been keeping. 

You walk to the campfire, finding a seat on a wolf pelt covered log. It’s plush under you, but nowhere near as soft as the hotel’s bed, and you blush, getting caught up in memories. Hosea sits opposite of you on a wooden folding chair. He’s grinding some herbs together with a mortar and pestle, making a health tonic for his cough, you’re sure.

You blink, startled back to the present as Jack runs past you, giggling loudly with two horseshoes in hand. With a smile, your eyes follow him to where Kieran has hammered a piece of rebar into the ground for the young boy to play horseshoes. You chuckle, eyes returning in front of you. Hosea looks up, eyeing you over quickly. 

“Where have you been, dear girl? I’ve missed you in camp.” Hosea says, leaning down to add some water to his mortar. 

“Valentine.” You answer, avoiding some of the details. Hosea smirks, eyes stuck on his hands as he works the herbs down.

“And Arthur?” Hosea asks, arching an eyebrow as he focuses. You can see where this is going, and you know Hosea won’t take to any lies, so you don’t even bother.

“He’s in Strawberry, left this morning to get Micah out of jail.” You explain to him. Hosea nods, and he hums as if questioning you. 

“What?” You huff, knowing that he has something to say, some odd cents to throw in. Hosea chuckles at your tone, shaking his head. 

“Nothing at all, just observing… Neither of you came back last night.” He points out with a knowing look. He’s not chastising or judging you, solely pointing out something he’s noticed. Of course he’s noticed, if anyone were to figure it out, it’d be Hosea.

“C’mon Hosea… leave it be.” You say, voice hushed as to not reach the ears of any lurking gang members. 

“Oh, I’m only pickin’. But you know I notice these things.” He says, and you nod. He always notices the little things. Your eyes flicker up to the older man, the softness in his eyes. In the time you’ve been with the gang, he’s treated you with nothing but kindness and respect. He’s treated you like a daughter in a way, and you know you can trust him with conversations like these ones. 

“It’s just… after the train, when I thought he was gone, it opened my eyes.” You admit to Hosea, head in your hands. He looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, a word on his lips. 

“The pair of you are a lot like Bessie and I.” Hosea smiles, and you glance up to him. 

“You love him.” Hosea states plainly, “It’s clear as day on your face, that worrying after him, that longing. You love him.”

“I– It’s only been-” You begin, but Hosea doesn’t let you stumble out of this one, instead, he speaks up again. 

“I'm happy for you two, really, I am. That boy hasn’t had someone takin’ care of him in many a year, I reckon. I reckon you haven’t either.” Hoea says, and you put your head in your hands. 

“Is it really all that obvious?” You ask. 

“To an old soul like me? Yes.” Hosea smiles, groaning as he stands up from his seat at the fire. He leaves his mortar and pestle on the ground, coming around the campfire to walk towards you. 

“My lips are sealed, dear girl. Now go on, John was looking for you. There’s work to be done if we’re gonna get out of here before the law catches our tails.” 

“Thanks, Hosea.” You offer as he pats your shoulder lightly.

He sits back down on his chair, taking in the camp’s state before watching you stand up. John is sharpening his knife at the table sometimes used for poker, and you walk towards him with your hands resting on your gun belt, hoping that this job will go better than your last two.

“You were lookin’  for me?” You ask, pulling one of the chairs out and sitting down across from John. 

“Yeah you and Arthur. Don’t sit down, we’re goin’ out.” John says, standing up as he sheathes his knife. You can hear the metallic clink of Jack’s horseshoes hitting their pole, alongside Swanson’s drunken rambling as you push the chair back in. 

“Arthur’s breakin’ Micah out of jail right now, do you think the two of us can handle it? Whatever it is that we’re doin’.” You say, sighing as you follow John towards the hitching posts. 

“Sure we can handle it, we’re only stealin’ sheep.” John chuckles, and you jog after him, confused. 

“Sheep? I don’t know about you, but I’m no rancher, John.” You huff, looking at your thoroughbred. She’s not bred to work livestock, and even if she was, you haven’t a clue on how to. 

“It can’t be that hard. Wait, shit- we need a rifle with good sights, do you have one?” John asks,  and you stop in your tracks, sighing. 

“No I don’t have one– Are you sure you have this job planned out right?” You question him, drawing your eyebrows together with some attitude.

“Yes I’m sure, now grab one from Arthur’s weapon’s box. He won’t mind.”

“He definitely will, but I’ll make sure he knows this was your idea.” You bite, stomping off towards Arthur’s wagon. Another job with John, another underprepared mission that’ll likely get someone hurt. 

You sigh, going to Arthur’s wagon. You kneel on the ground in front of his weapons box, opening the creaky, rusted lid. Your eyes flicker down to the box, and you sift through it, searching for his rifle. You find the rolling block rifle easily enough before meeting John back over by the horses. He’s already mounted up, waiting for you to get on Athena. 

—- —- —-- —

"Come on then, where are we getting these damn sheep?" You ask, mounting up. John canters out of Horseshoe as you follow. 

"Should be comin' through the Heartlands sometime in the hour, probably led by a couple of ranch hands. I reckon we get those ranch hands dealt with and we have the herd for ourselves." John explains, racing over the train tracks toward the rocky Heartlands. You ride on for a while, galloping past herds of bison and deer. 

"What happened with Arthur by the way? It's like he came back and then left again. I barely saw him before he ran off." John yells back to you, and you stumble for an answer. 

"Well, he hid out in Strawberry till the law got away and then made his way back to the bridge. I guess there were a lot of eyes on him when we came back home, so he went to Valentine." 

"I thought he was dead." John admits, "Did you go with him? To Valentine? I didn't see you in camp either…" John recalls. 

"I did." Is all you say, leaving the conversation at that as you canter up the path to the top of a cliff. It's a rocky trail, but eventually you make it to the top. You can look down over and see for miles in both directions. 

"They'll be comin' from Emerald Ranch." John explains, pulling a pair of binoculars out. He looks through them towards the east, waiting for some movement. After a few minutes of him watching, and you toying with your hands, he speaks up. 

"I see somethin', might be them." John whispers, crouching down. You follow suit, kneeling on the rocks as you pull Arthur's rolling block rifle from around your shoulder. You hold up the heavy gun, glancing through the sight. 

You see three men on horses, and about thirty head of sheep in between them. 

"That's them, alright." You whisper back, lowering the barrel of the gun. 

"What's the plan?" You ask, looking over to John as he lowers his binoculars. 

"Wait until they get close, then shoot at their feet. Close enough to scare 'em, but don't actually shoot anyone." 

"I'm not gonna shoot anyone." You bite, lifting the sight back up to your eye. You center the rifle against your shoulder, aiming it towards the herd. You zero in on a spot between the rancher’s, but you hesitate, looking back at John. 

“Won’t this scare the sheep away?” You ask. John waves you off, pointing back to the herd. 

“No– you're just overthinkin’ it. They’re gettin’ close now, shoot at ‘em.” John tells you, and you cock your head, going back to your sights. 

“If you say so…” You hum, and John rolls his eyes. 

You aim back at the ranchers’ feet, squeezing the trigger. The chamber fires, and the bullet lodges into the dirt between the three men. Their horses spook, rearing up and growing skittish, but they keep the herd tight together, not budging. 

“One more shot, make it closer this time.” John says, looking back through his binoculars. 

You aim again, closer this time. Your hands sweat from anxiety and the weight of the gun, and when your trembling fingers squeeze the trigger, you slip just a hair. The bullet lodges into one of the rancher’s shoulders, and you wince as he screams, falling from his horse. 

“Shit, Star!” John hisses, “I told you not to hit anyone!” 

“Clearly, that was an accident- shit.” You wince. Luckily he seems to be okay, save for the wound, and he clambers back up onto his horse before galloping off with the other two. 

“Oops.” You whisper.

John rolls his eyes, running towards the horses. With the gunshot, and the absence of the ranchers, the sheep have scattered, running in opposite directions and bleating loudly in fear. You follow, quickly running towards Athena to catch up to John. You jump onto Athena from behind, and she starts running before you’ve even scooched up into the saddle. 

“You get the east side, I’ll grab the west, get as many back as you can!” John hollers to you, running after the sheep that have run off towards the west. You run towards Emerald Ranch, gathering up as many as you can and pushing them in the direction of Valentine. You have no idea how to herd, but you try your best, shielding them from the wrong way, while encouraging them towards Valentine. It’s a mess, and you barely get them together before taking up the side of the herd opposite of John. 

“We got 'em all?” You holler over, and John shrugs.  

“I don't know, but we got enough.”He yells back. You trot forward, slapping your saddle every once in a while to encourage the sheep forward. It's a messy group, but it works as you push them on.

— — — —

"What in the hell are you two doin'?" A familiar voice calls out, and you glance up to meet Arthur's green eyes. He's trotting towards you on his scarred shire, eyes darting around at the herd of sheep you're barely keeping together. 

"Stealin' sheep!" John hollers over the noise as the animals run amongst themselves, bleating, “Star over here is shootin’ farmers.” John jokes, and you sigh. 

“I told you that was an accident, and I feel real bad for it, so leave it be.” You say. John chuckles, and Arthur raises an eyebrow at you, but you wave it off. 

Seeing the mess of a herd, Arthur flanks the sheep, leaving you pushing them from the back, and John on their other side. It forms a perfect chute to push them along, and you fall into a steady trot, pushing the sheep forward.

"Those guns turned out real fine!" Arthur yells back to you, and you nod, glancing down at your hip. 

"They did, thank you by the way. You didn't have to do that." You yell up, referring to him buying your guns. 

"Ah, I wanted to." Arthur says. John glances between the two of you with a confused look on his face, but keeps quiet other than an occasional cluck or curse at the sheep. 

"How'd it go with Micah?" You ask Arthur, and you see him shake his head. One of the sheep breaks away from the herd, and you canter to the side, cutting it off and forcing it back as Arthur speaks. 

"It was a goddamn disaster. He killed half the town lookin' for a pair of guns, killed a woman he knew, it was real bad." Arthur grits, distaste on his tongue as he spits the words out.

"He go back to camp?" John asks, spurring Old Boy forward, keeping the herd in tight formation as you trot around Citadel Rock. 

"No," Arthur shakes his head, scratching his chin, "He wants to make it up Dutch. He said bringin' home a take would get him forgiven, asked me if I had any leads or jobs." Arthur huffs. 

Your blood runs cold for a moment. You think of the debtor Arthur was supposed to go after yesterday, and you hope he didn't send Micah. 

"Where did you send him?" You ask, voice steady. Arthur doesn't respond, and the only noise is the pounding of hooves as your eyebrows pop up, waiting for an answer. 

"Where did you send him?" You bite, louder and more aggressively this time. John is lost, looking between the two of you. 

"I sent him after Downes." 

You huff, shocked, though you shouldn't be. Athena tosses her head up a few times, picking up on the fact that you're upset. 

"So it's okay to beat a man as long as your hands are clean?" You snap, "Sending goddamn Micah after him. Do you think that makes it okay–? You're not giving the beating, but you can pass it off on someone else and walk away with a clean conscience?" 

John whistles under his breath, keeping his eyes on the sheep and the trail ahead. Meanwhile, Arthur scoffs, as if you're being outrageous.

"I didn't go after Downes, but I can’t stop Micah from goin'." He defends, and you squint at his poor excuse, growing more upset and angry. It's one thing to take from people who deserve it, but the poor? It takes a different type of person to rob and beat the desperate. Only someone with no honor could do that, and looking at Arthur, you wonder where his head's at when it comes to morality. 

"Maybe not, but you told him to go!" You yell over the bleating sheep. They grow more antsy from you and Arthur's yelling, and everyone works harder to keep them in tight formation. 

"Strauss would have just sent one of the other boys anyway! Micah needed work and I gave him some. I'm sorry we don't always have the benefit of pickin' and choosin' what jobs we go on. We need money to get out of this damn place, you should know! You're itchin' to get out of here more than anyone- so no, I didn't question it!" Arthur yells, his face is hot with anger, and as much as your mind barks at you to scream back, you can't find it in your heart to yell at him. 

"Strauss's line of 'work' hurts more than just the debtor. I should know." You say, quieter than you were yelling just seconds ago. Arthur turns in his saddle, sees the tears in your eyes and realizes what a piece of shit he's being. He wonders if he's any different than the bastard who killed your father, and if you see him that way. 

"You ought to figure out who you wanna be, Arthur, a good man or a bad one, cause you can't be both… Good luck with the sheep." You bid goodbye, reining Athena away from the herd. 

"Star, wait." Arthur says as you kiss to Athena, cueing her into a canter past the sheep and the boys, towards Valentine. 

"Star!" Arthur yells after you, but his voice gets quieter as you keep running towards Valentine. A few tears drip down your cheeks, but you wipe them away quickly. You've had a lot of reminders of your family today, and Arthur sending Micah after a debtor sure didn't help. 

You don't even have to steer her, Athena rides you right into Valentine, straight to Keane's saloon, as if she knows you need it. When you pull alongside the hitching post, you spot a pearly white Arabian hitched across the road and you scowl. Great. 

Your need for a drink outgrows your annoyance with Dutch, and you slide down from Athena before walking up to the saloon door. With a hand on either door, you push them open.

Your eyes immediately land on Dutch, and sitting beside him is that little rat, Strauss. Your frown deepens, of course he's here. His beady eyes scan the room, and land on you as you walk forward. The scowl you send him is heated, and he immediately averts his eyes. 

"Star, we were looking for you. Where's John?" Dutch yells out, his booming voice tugging at the scowl on your lips. 

"With Arthur, working." You offer. 

"Come sit, have a drink with us, miss." Dutch smiles, inviting you over. You glance at the bar, then to the square table that they're sitting at. There's an expensive bottle of whiskey on the table, and you decide it's worth the pain of sitting by the bastards. You nod, walking towards their table before pulling a chair out and sitting down. 

Dutch waves the bartender over, calling him to bring you a glass. As soon as the crystal glass hits the table, you're pouring the golden liquid into it. Dutch chuckles, watching as you take a long swig.

"I just wanted to–" Strauss begins to speak, but you glare at him. 

"Shut the hell up." You snap at him, and immediately he goes quiet. 

Dutch on the other hand, laughs boisterously. His hand rests on his manspreading knee as he tips his chair back on its back legs. 

"Feisty thing, isn't she?" Dutch chuckles, and you squint at him dangerously. He places his hands in the air in surrender as you down the rest of your whiskey and pour yourself another one. 

"What job are Arthur and John running? I told them to meet me here…" Dutch asks, swirling his glass. 

"Stealin' sheep and sendin' them to auction. I'm sure they'll be here any minute." You say with a hint of distaste on your lips. You drink your glass of whiskey in one long swig before placing the glass back down gently. 

"I better be heading out, have some debtors to attend to." Strauss smiles, but neither you or Dutch smile back as the man stands up and leaves. 

"I never liked that man's line of work. It seems… worse, stealing from the poor like that." Dutch grumbles, shaking his head. You look over at him surprised. 

"Something we agree on." You huff. You drink the last of your whiskey, pouring another. You watch as Dutch gets lost in his head, and he smiles at some old memory. 

"You know, Arthur, Hosea and I used to steal from the rich and give to the poor… Our first bank robbery, we handed gold and cash out in the slums, gave it all except what we needed." Dutch says, and you lean back in your chair, seeing him in a new light. 

"Hosea thinks we've changed, but we're still chasin' that same dream– freedom from the confines of civilization, paradise in the west." He says, eyes far away as he imagines a future for the gang. You bring your glass up to your lips, thinking over his words. 

"Is that where we're headed then? West?" You ask, and Dutch nods deeply. 

"That's the plan." 

You drink your whiskey before placing your glass down, not knowing if it's your second or third. The old bottle is halfway gone though. 

"Here they come." Dutch smiles, and you turn to see Arthur and John trotting down the road, wearing matching scowls. You can see Arthur bickering with the younger outlaw, in a sour mood. 

"I'm gonna step out for a smoke." You tell Dutch, sliding your chair out as you stand. He tips his hat as you walk out the back door. 

You don't want to say anything you'll regret, so stepping out proves to be your safest option. You lean your back against the outer wall of the saloon, reaching into your satchel to grab your box of cigarettes. You pull one out, striking a match against your boot to light it. Pulling the match to the cigarette between your lips, you watch as it begins to burn, orange and black ashes falling from your smoke when you tap it. 

You inhale deeply, slipping your eyes shut as the tobacco works its way into your system. You feel a little better already, and you take a few steps forward, looking up at the cliffs above you. You watch on for a while, hearing Arthur and John bickering on the other side of the building, and then you hear a shuffle behind you. With your eyebrows pulled together, you start to turn. A rifle hits the back of your head, and a dull pain shoots through your head as you blackout, falling to the floor. 

 — — — —

Your eyes begin to flicker open, and you squint as the bright white daylight blinds you. Your head throbs, and the arms holding you up are gripping onto you too tightly. Muffled voices are yelling, but you can't make out what they're saying until you finally come to. 

"Get up, we're walkin." A man grits at you, and when your eyes adjust to the light, you're met with a Pinkerton Agent. Your eyes pop open widely, and you go to yell, but there's a gag wrapped tightly in your mouth, tied behind your head. 

You panic, thinking they're going to torture you for information. If they wanted to kill you they would have already. You try to grab for your holster, but your hands are tied behind your back, and your guns have been stripped from you. The Agent smirks as it all dawns on you, and he grabs your arm, pulling you with him. 

"Move." He bites, pushing you forward. You stumble ahead, breathing hotly through your gag, struggling as he pushes you into the street. Two big, armed men grab onto your arms, holding you tightly. The barrel of a rifle presses up against your temple as you tremble, assessing the situation. Keane's saloon is in front of you, and you can faintly see the silhouette of Arthur and Dutch drinking inside. When you glance to your side, you see that they have Strauss with you, but he is trembling and tears slip down his cheeks. You have no weapons, your hands are literally bound, your best option is to wait. 

A large man comes forward with a thick white beard. He's neatly dressed and neatly trimmed, clearly a man of money. He has a shining revolver in his hand, pointed up in the air. 

"Van der Linde!" The man screams, voice booming as he roars, pacing up and down the street in front of you. You glance around, seeing that Pinkerton Agents surround the building and the shops in the town. Your breathing quickens as you glance back to the window. 

"Get out here! Get out here now!" The man yells again, growing irritated and impatient. 

"You don't know me, but you keep robbing me!" He screams, and all his men ready their guns at the saloon door. Your heart pounds in your chest. You're outnumbered by a lot. 

"My name is Leviticus Cornwall, I am not a man to be messed with by the likes of you!" Cornwall screams, and your blood runs cold at the name. The wagon, the train, you've been stealing from Cornwall all this time, of course he was bound to retaliate. You watch as the silhouettes behind the windows move, and you know they must be coming up with a plan. 

"Get out here! Before I kill them both!" Cornwall screams, and the man at your back shoves you down hard until your knees hit the mud. You yelp in pain from his shove, and the barrel of his rifle pushes hard against the back of your head for it. 

The saloon door opens, and slowly Dutch, Arthur and John file out with their hands raised. Dutch stands in the middle of the porch, John and Arthur flanking him. Arthur's eyes are glued to you, and his heart pounds as he worriedly scans over you. The sight of you on your knees with a gun to your head is surely burned into his memory. 

"Gentleman, this is a terrible case of mistaken identity…What is worse than admonishing a man for the sins of another?" Dutch begins, and you nervously watch as Arthur waits for an opportune moment. 

"Now, I don't know who this 'van der Linde' is, but surely we can negotiate–" 

Arthur unholsters his revolver and takes out the man at your back in a quick movement. All hell breaks loose, and Arthur finds cover as the three boys start shooting. Cornwall mounts up and runs off quickly, ducking like a coward as he gallops off. Strauss lands a bullet in the leg, and screams out in pain. You duck, running behind a wagon to seek cover as bullets whiz past your head. 

"I gotta go help Star!" Arthur yells, firing multiple times before darting across the street towards you. When he comes around the corner, he skids to his knees in the mud, holstering his gun. His hands pry the gag out of your mouth and you cough, taking a deep breath upon its release. 

He pulls out his knife, reaching behind you to free your hands as you gasp. 

"Y'alright?" Arthur yells over the bullets, and you nod. 

"I'm sorry-" he begins. 

"We'll talk later, we're getting shot at." You yell, running towards the corpse of the man who was holding you hostage. You take your guns off him, and immediately jump in to help. 

"There's more comin' in!" John yells firing into three men in quick succession. You glance at the road from the post office to see a group of men riding in on fine, bay Morgans. Your heart rate picks up as you and Arthur aim and fire, taking down all the men with your smoking carbines. 

"Dutch?! What are we doin' here?" Arthur yells out, jogging up the road towards the jail, you follow him, shooting down men that peak around the gunsmith's.

"We'll get Strauss in the wagon and push it. Arthur, shoot somethin! Star, get in the wagon with Strauss, you can use it as cover!" Dutch yells, and you run and jump into the wagon. You duck behind the wall of the wagon, peeking up enough to fire at the Pinkertons lining the street. Arthur cuts Strauss free, picks him up and tosses him in the horseless wagon. He cries out in pain, gripping his leg tightly.

"I think something is wrong, I believe I severed an artery or- or nicked a nerve–" Strauss begins. 

"Shut up before I put another bullet in you. You're fine." You yell. The wagon starts moving, and you glance back to see Dutch and John pushing it. 

Arthur is using the wagon as cover, running beside it, while shooting men down from the balconies. 

Bullets lodge into the wagon, and you gasp loudly as one hits the wood just centimeters from you. You turn around to see a man fall from the balcony behind you, dead on account of Arthur's smoking revolver. He looks over at you, terrified, until he realizes it missed you. 

You nod to him, letting him know you're fine, before taking your position back and firing into as many men as you can. They pop out from everywhere, with seemingly no end to their numbers. Pinkertons come from around the jail, the doctor's, the saloon, gunsmith, everywhere. They're on roofs, balconies and porches, shooting out of damn windows. Cornwall has hired a goddamn militia. 

Dutch and John are pushing the wagon down the main street, past the saloon as you near the end of the road. 

"There's not many left, just keep shooting!" Dutch yells out, straining as he pushes the wagon. You and Arthur continue firing, and you stop momentarily to reload. 

"I'm low on ammo!" You holler, ducking behind the wall of the wagon as you reload your gun. Once the bullets are loaded, you cock the gun to resume your shooting. When you pop up from your cover, bullets whiz past you. You take down one man from the roof of the stables, and another from the porch of Nils' shop. 

The Pinkertons begin to dwindle down, until Dutch and John push the wagon to the end of the main road, and there are no more. 

"Is everyone alive?!" Dutch hollers out, turning around to count everyone. 

"There could be more comin' we gotta go now." You say, swinging your carbine over your shoulder as you jump down from the wagon. You jog over towards Arthur, noticing a red stain on the arm of his shirt. He sees your eyes flicker to the blood, and you grab his bicep to get a better look at it.

"Just a graze, I'm fine." Arthur reassures you, hand squeezing your elbow lightly as you nod.

Dutch grabs a whining Strauss from the wagon, whistling as the horses come running down the street.

"John, take Strauss on your horse. I'll get Grimshaw to start packing up. You two, make sure they don't follow us." Dutch orders, setting Strauss up on the back of Old Boy. 

"Sure." Arthur answers. 

"We can't stay here after this." Dutch admits out loud, mounting up on The Count who rears and bucks lightly in fear.

"No, we can't." Arthur sighs. 

John mounts up onto Old Boy, and they all run off towards home. You stand next to Arthur in shock, glancing over the bodies that line the streets. 

"You're okay?" Arthur asks, coming towards you. You nod, eyes slipping closed. 

"This was a massacre, Arthur. He hired a militia." You whisper, "And he'll hire another one."

Arthur nods, hands on his gun belt. 

"We'll be okay, and we'll talk about earlier, let's just get home first. Cmon, no one's followin' us." Arthur says, whistling for your horses to come closer. You mount up on Athena, glancing once more over the town. The main street is littered with corpses, destroying the sweet little livestock town. You frown deeply, pushing Athena towards home. 

Upon your arrival, tents are already being torn down and stuffed into wagons. Your tent is gone, and Arthur's wagon is being taken apart and filled with items. You frown at the sight of your home being destroyed, again. 

Arthur jumps down from Balius and walks straight up to Dutch's tent with you in toe. Hosea is in the tent, bickering and finger-pointing at Dutch while you wait outside. 

"This is lying low? We've turned into a bunch of killers, Dutch, I mean it! We ain't even got the delusion of being nothing but a bunch of killers!" Hosea snaps, pointing his finger in Dutch's face. Dutch sits on his cot, calm as ever as he takes in Hosea's words. 

"We are just trying to survive, Hosea. We don't have a choice. This will end soon." Dutch reassures. 

"Damn right, it will!" Hosea yells before backing away and stomping out of the tent. 

"Constipated as usual…" Dutch hums, shaking his head as Arthur steps inside. 

"Where are we headed, Dutch?" Arthur asks, voice quiet, worried. 

"Micah told me of a place, a while back before we came down here. Dewberry Creek." 

Your eyebrows draw together as you look at Dutch, shaking your head. 

"I've been there with John, it ain't gonna work. It's open and it'll be mud when it rains." You explain, thinking back to when you stole the wagon with John. 

"I trust Micah. It will work. Arthur, take Charles and scout it out." Dutch growls at you. You glare at him, stepping forward. 

"It ain't gonna w-"

"I said you and Charles go take a look. Clear off anyone you find before the whole lot of us move in there looking so conspicuous." Dutch interrupts you as you fume. 

"And how are we gonna do that?" Arthur sighs. Dutch shakes his head. 

"I don't know, start dancin'?" 

Arthur looks at Dutch with as much anger as you. He's being sent on errands, when you know it's a waste of time. 

"What am I now, just your goddamn errand boy?" Arthur hisses, stepping out of the tent with you. His hand is on the small of your back as he urges you outside, away from Dutch and the mess he's creating. 

"You're not my errand boy, you are my son. You worry because I worry, we are just the same, you and I." Dutch says, and Arthur walks away from him with a scowl. 

"I swear, he's turnin' into a goddamn lunatic, Star." Arthur whispers hotly, stomping towards Charles' bedroll.

"I know it." You sigh, following Arthur. When you glance over your shoulder you see Abigail sitting on the ground with Jack, tears streaming down his cheeks as Karen and Tilly pack up his bags. You frown, watching on as they take his books and file them away in a chest. 

"But he'll pull through for us. He always does." Arthur adds, and you nod, not saying anything. You don't have to tell Arthur that you disagree. 

Charles is rolling up his bedroll, and adding it to a bag of his things when you both come upon him. 

"Charles, ride with us?" Arthur asks, and Charles stands up, eyebrows pulled together. 

"Of course. Where to?" He asks, grabbing his shotgun from a crate before following you towards the horses. 

"Some dried up river that ain't gonna work as a camp." You bite, aggression not pointed at either of the two boys. 

"She's talkin' about Dewberry Creek." Arthur corrects you with a smirk. 

It's a longer ride, and by the end you're exhausted. It's been a shit day so far, and this part is no exception. Your body aches from rocking in the saddle, and from the hyperextension of your hands being tied behind your back, not to mention your throbbing head from the butt of a rifle earlier.

"Y'okay?" Arthur asks, seeing you stretch your shoulders and crack your neck for the third time in the past ten minutes. 

"Yeah, just hurtin' a little." You admit. Dewberry Creek is just over the hill, and you all lope over it. 

"They hurt you bad?" Arthur asks, suddenly worried. He didn't have time to check over you back after the shootout, he was too worried about getting you out of there. And then immediately getting swooped into a job, he never asked. 

"I'm okay." You admit, reaching over to squeeze Arthur’s hand. He nods, squeezing yours back lightly before you let go and continue riding. 

Charles curiously eyes the motion, making his own assumptions, but he keeps quiet. 

"Creek’s just up here." You call out, pushing Athena a little faster down the hill. Arthur and Charles follow as you come upon the dried up creek bed You slow Athena into a sliding stop, letting the boys take in the spot for what it's worth.

The creek bed is muddy. There are sinking wet spots that make it unlivable, not to mention the fact that it's in the middle of the plains, completely in the open. There are a few tents pitched in the creekbed, a hundred or more feet down. 

“This is worse than I thought… Why would Micah even consider this?” Charles asks. Arthur pushes Balius forward into the creek bed, seemingly eyeing the same tents as you. 

“Are there people living here now?” Arthur asks, riding forward. You follow him, squinting to look for any motion down by the tents. You see none, but ride forward anyway. 

“It looks abandoned.” You say, trotting past Arthur. You scan the creekbed, stopping when you see an unmoving lump of fabric in the distance. As you get closer, you wince, realizing it’s a corpse, face down in the mud. It appears that he was shot in the back while running away. You look back up at the tents, a feeling of unease sweeping over you. 

“I found a body!” You yell back to the boys, and both of them ride up to you, “There’s a camp ahead too.” You add, getting down from Athena. You move towards the body, feeling sorry for the feller as you look him over.

“Stay alert. Any issues, shoot first n’ debate second.” Arthur says, and you huff a humorless laugh. 

“What is with you today?” You hiss, and Charles nods his head, also picking up on Arthur’s sour mood and aggression. 

“I'm not gonna shoot for the sake of it.” Charles bites back, following Arthur towards the camp.

“Survivals for the sake of it, quit talkin.” Arthur snaps, and you roll your eyes, glancing at Charles. 

You come upon the camp, hand resting near your holster as you check it out. You walk through the entrance of a white, A frame tent, finding it to be left untouched. Cans of food sit out, blankets and books are left behind. It's as if whoever was here just got up and left. Arthur and Charles search the tents up ahead, finding the same thing. 

“Looks empty.” Arthur calls out, and you jog up to where he’s at. The only thing left to search is a large wagon, and you set your eyes on it as you walk past the men. 

“Let's make sure.” You say, walking towards the wagon. You peek in the back, finding an opened, empty chest. When you step down, you hear the cock of a shotgun, and you pause, putting your hands in the air. 

Arthur and Charles notice this, and they step forward slowly, pulling a few crates away from under the wagon. You’re taken aback at the sight of a woman and two children, cowering, under the wagon. The mother holds up a shotgun, shielding her son and daughter behind her.

“You can come out of there.” Charles says, holstering his sawed off shotgun as he backs away with his hands raised. You and Arthur follow, surrendering as you give them space to step out. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, shocked at the sight of them. They look terrified, and Charles gestures for them to come out from underneath the wagon. 

“We don’t mean you no harm.” Arthur whispers. 

The woman comes out, with her gun raised up at you three, alternating between you all. Her children follow her, and she keeps them behind her skirt as she stands across from you three. 

“The lady said, are you okay?” Arthur says, gesturing to you. The woman shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand. 

“Sprechen sie Deutsch? G-German?” She asks, translating her words as best as she can. Arthur sighs, tossing his hands up into the air. 

“No.” He says curtly. Much to your surprise, he attempts to shoo them off with his hands as he yells, “Now go on, get outta here! We need the land, go!” He yells, and you step in front of him, stopping him. 

“You’re gonna leave these people to themselves after this?” You ask, gesturing to the body and abandoned camp. Arthur has a grumpy look on his face, a threatening demeanor that works on just about everyone but you. 

“We need this land, Star– we got our own prob–” Arthur begins, but the woman’s young daughter jumps out from behind her, tears in her eyes as she yells in the best English she can. 

“They took our father!!” She yells, crying. Her accent is heavy, but you understand her well enough. Charles steps forward, and the mother raises her gun up again. 

“Who did?” Charles asks, and Arthur shakes his head in disapproval. 

“Men, last night.” The girl adds, watching the three of you. 

“Where?” You ask, but Arthur grabs your arm, pulling you back to look at him. Angrily, you pull your arm back. 

“Ain’t no business of ours. I don’t even speak their language!” Arthur hisses. Charles steps forward, a mean look on his face. 

“You ain't as tough and dense as all that. Come on, Star.” Charles says, and you sigh before following him. 

“Arthur, stay or don’t, but I’m goin.” You say, whistling for Athena. You mount up quickly, following the direction that the young girl had pointed to. 

“We’ll see if we can pick up a trail, c’mon.” Charles says, and Arthur sighs before mounting onto Balius.

Charles starts out the mouth of the trail, picking up a canter. Before he gets to the main road, he points to the ground. 

“A trail, right here.” Charles says, cueing Taima faster. 

“I don't see nothin’.” Arthur pouts, looking at the dirt and seeing… nothing but dirt. You point to the hoof prints on the ground, and the trail that they make along the main road. 

“Hoof prints this way.” You explain, racing faster along the road. The trail dips into the woods, and you follow Charles in a single file line, racing through the trees. 

“So what's goin’ on with you?” Charles asks, glancing back at Arthur. He keeps a steady pace with Taima, dodging turkeys and trees as he follows the tracks, 

“Whatchu mean?” Arthur asks.

“You were just gonna send that woman and her children on their way?” Charles asks. Arthur slings his carbine off of his shoulder, sliding it down the holster on Balius’s saddle. 

“We’re wanted men. We got the Pinkertons breathing down our necks. Star was nearly executed in front of us today, Charles...  We should be moving camp, not runnin’ off on some wild goose chase.” Arthur explains, and you pick up on the reason for his upset. 

“That's why you’re upset. Arthur, I'm okay.” You offer, but it doesn’t ease his worry. He won’t feel better until you’re far away from this mess. 

“Maybe now, but that Pinkerton was seconds away from putting a bullet in you, and don’t think I didn't see that goddamn mark on your head.” Arthur hisses, and you instinctively run your hand up to the back of your head where a welt resides from the butt of that bastard’s carbine. It grows quiet as Charles breaches the woods, coming upon Flat Iron Lake. 

“This way.” He says quietly, cantering along the shore. You follow, and after a while of running alongside horse tracks, you come to a grassy opening. It must be the right place, as crates and a few bedrolls lie around scattered. It's a beautiful spot, and the golden evening light shines brilliantly across the lake, cascading around you. 

“This is a better camp spot than back there.” You say, looking over the large, old oak tree in the center of the camp. The lake laps at the shore of the little peninsula, calmingly. 

“This looks like our feller.” Arthur hollers from ahead of you, and your head snaps in his direction to where a man is hogtied on the grass, yelling through a gag. Arthur jumps down from Balius, jogging over to the man. He slips the man’s gag off, and immediately the German man begins to scream. 

“Vorsichtig!! Vorsichtig!!” 

<careful! careful!> The man screams, and bullets begin to whiz around past you.

“Take cover!” Arthur yells, and you leap down from Athena, sliding behind a crate as the horses run off. Men come from behind the trees, shooting at you. You fill your carbine, popping up from the cover to fire into three men’s chests. There aren’t many of them, and you take out as many as you can. 

“Watch! They’re comin’ in on horses!” Charles yells from behind the tree, and you glance towards the trail leading in where four men on horses ride in. 

You take down one, and Arthur and Charles take down the rest. 

“Are there any more of them?” You pant, lowering your constellation-patterned weapon. 

“No.” Arthur mumbles, holstering his revolver. 

You look behind you, past Arthur to the hogtied man. He's writhing on the ground, clearly in pain from being tied up so long. You jog over to him quickly, unsheathing your knife before cutting his ties free. Arthur and Charles whistle for your horses, walking towards you as the man clambers up, rubbing at his raw wrists. 

"Danke! Danke!!" 

<thank you! thank you!> The man smiles, turning around in both ways as if he's lost, searching for a familiar way out. 

"We'll take you back to your family, mister." You say slowly, wondering if he understands any English at all. 

"Star–" Arthur begins to protest, but you're not having any of it. You won't let him protect you if it leads to others getting hurt. 

"Charles, go back to Horseshoe and bring the caravan here. It's a good spot." You address Charles before turning to the man, "We will take you back to your family." You say, waving him towards your horse. He follows you, looking mighty confused as you mount up into Athena. But when you extend your hand to him, he takes it, hopping up into the mare's croup. 

"Was tun wir jetzt"

 <what are we doing now?> The man says, and not understanding, you keep on riding. 

"Also komme ich dann mit?" 

<so I'm coming with you then?> He asks again, and you sigh. 

"I'm sorry, I have no clue what you're sayin', mister." You sigh, following the trail back towards Dewberry Creek. 

"Wo bringst du hich min?" 

<where are you taking me?>  He asks again. You don't respond, but Arthur does. 

"What in the hell did you do to those fellers back there?" Arthur asks, following beside you on his shire. 

"Was hast du gesagt."

<what did you say?> 

Arthur sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he rides along.

"Those men back there. Why- did- they- take- you?" Arthur asks, pronouncing each word slower, as if it'll help the man understand. 

"Geld. Money." The German husband says. You glance over your shoulder at him, wondering what trouble he's in over money with fellers like those. He's well dressed, and his family was too. You doubt he's a debtor. 

"Meine Familie hat ein Goldminen Geschäft. Sie wollten ein Lösegeld schicken." 

<my family owns a gold mining business. they wanted to send a ransom.>  He explains, and you try to decipher the German words. 

"How did someone even come up with them words?" Arthur sighs as you try to understand.

"G-gold minin'?" You attempt to say the word in German, "Your family owns a gold mine?" You say, glancing at Arthur with wide eyes. 

"Ja, yes!" The German man exclaims, and your eyes boggle. 

“Ihr beide bringt mich zu meiner Familie? Oh danke. Wie haben sie euch beide gefunden?”

<you’re taking me to my family? oh, thank you. how did they find you two?>

“Sorry partner, I can barely speak english.” Arthur huffs as you ride up on the Dewberry Creek bank. When you come over the hill, the man’s family is waiting for them. They’ve readied their wagon, and two draft horses are tethered to the front of it. 

“There they are.” You whisper back to the man with a smile on your face as the children point and smile. 

“Oh, Gott sei Dank!”

<oh, thank god!> He calls out, jumping down from Athena. He runs to his family, and catches his wife in a tight hug as the children run and wrap their arms around him. 

“Schatz!” 

<darling!> He exhales, releasing a held breath when he sees and feels his family. 

“Andreas!” His wife cries, kissing his cheek. 

“Ich dachte du wärst tot.” 

<I thought you were dead.> She says, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“Ich war es fast.”

<I nearly was.>  Andreas admits before looking down and greeting his children. You watch on as Arthur dismounts, going towards the little reunited family.

“Wir sind gesegnet, euch beide kennengelernt zu haben.” 

<we are blessed to have known you both.> The wife cries to you and Arthur as her husband helps her up into the wagon. You’re not sure what she’s said, but you’re sure it’s some form of gratitude. 

Arthur steps forward, shooing the family on. 

“Get outta here, this place ain’t safe.” Arthur tells them, but no one moves. 

“Get outta here! Vamos! Vamos!” Arthur yells, in a sad excuse for spanish while talking to german folks. You snort as the children clamber up into the wagon. The man points his fingers into the air as if he has an idea before digging through a compartment in his wagon. 

“Ich habe etwas für dich, Augenblick." 

<i have something for you, one moment.> He says, digging through the wagon as Arthur huffs, impatient. You only watch on from Athena, amused by Arthur’s easily frustrated state. Andreas turns around, holding two heavy, shimmering bars of gold in his hands. Your eyes boggle as he hands one to Arthur, and then comes forward to offer the other up to you.

“Danke aus tiefstem herzen”

<thank you from the bottom of my heart.> He whispers, glancing between you and Arthur. 

Arthur stares at the gold bar for a moment before glancing back up at the man as he climbs into his wagon, slapping the reins over the horses’ backs. 

“Guess it was a pleasure…” Arthur mumbles under his breath, sliding the gold bar into his satchel. You place your own in your saddle bag, saying nothing as he climbs on to Balius before you both make the trip back to the opening by the lake. You don’t have to say anything, he knows what you’re thinking. This is what happens when you help people. 

— — — —

When you’d arrived at the new camp, called Clemens Point, you found out, Grimshaw had already pitched your tent up next to Arthur’s wagon. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it was a waste, so you said nothing. Your tent is on the east side of the camp, not far from the lake. If it’s quiet, you can hear it lapping against the shore quietly. It’s a little warmer down in Lemoyne, something you’re grateful for. 

After helping everyone unpack, setting up the rest of the tents, grooming and untacking the horses, unloading the wagons, and cooking dinner, it’s nearly one in the morning. Absolutely exhausted, you begin pulling your gun belt off before you even enter your tent. You push the white canvas open, stepping inside and dropping your belt onto the ground. You strip down your clothes, feeling freer with every shed item until you’re left in just your underthings and a loose-fitting shirt. You take your hair out of its tie, scratching at your scalp before stepping towards the bed. 

A light knock sounds out on the front beam of your tent, and you smirk as Arthur steps in. He’s already dressed down, wearing nothing but his union suit and a comfortable pair of jeans. 

“Figured you’d want me in here.” He says with a smile, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I’m glad you came.” You hum, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Your lips meet in a sweet, slow kiss. It’s been a long, hard day and you’re both exhausted. Your lips part as you grip his arm and drag him to bed with you. You lay on your side, and Arthur’s chest lines your back tightly. One of his arms is under your head, and the other is draped over your waist. 

“I'm sorry about this mornin’.” Arthur whispers, and your lips fall into a small frown. You knew this was coming.

“It’s okay...  Just, choose who you wanna be. You can’t be a good man and a bad one, you gotta pick.” You say, turning around in his arms. His hands are warm on your body as you look up to his terrified eyes.

“Do you think I’m a bad man?” He asks, eyes searching yours for any hint of an answer. You shake your head. 

“No. I think you’re a good man, one of the best. But I think that can change, if you keep goin’ down this path.” You tell him truthfully, and he nods.

“Thanks, darlin’. I’ll be tryin, for you.” Arthur whispers, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to your temple while releasing a breath. 

“Get some sleep now, okay?” Arthur says quietly, pulling the blanket further up over you. You hum, content, nuzzling into his chest until you’re fast asleep. It doesn’t take long with how exhausted you are. 

Back in Arthur’s wagon, sitting on his bedside table is his journal, with one new entry scribbled onto the white pages: 

She sees the good in me. I don’t know how or why, and yet she does. She looks at me like I’m the sunshine, brightening up her day. I fear I’m the opposite, but I’m trying everyday to be better for her. It’s an uphill battle. One step forward, two steps back, but I’m trying to be the man she deserves. She deserves so much, a family, a real home. I’d like to give her that one day. God– I’m sweeter on her than honey itself, I reckon. ♡

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie @mykneeshurt

#arthur morgan #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader

[mostlysignssomeportents]

To save the news, ban surveillance ads

Tonight (May 31) at 6:30PM, I’m at the MANCHESTER Waterstones with my novel Red Team Blues, hosted by Ian Forrester.

Tomorrow (Jun 1), I’m giving the Peter Kirstein Lecture for UCL Computer Science in LONDON.

Then it’s Edinburgh, London, and Berlin!

Big Tech steals from the news, but what it steals isn’t content — it steals money. That matters, because if we create pseudo-copyrights over the facts of the news, or headlines, or snippets to help news companies bargain with tech companies, we make the news partners with the tech companies, rather than watchdogs.

How does tech steal money from the news? Lots of ways! One important one: tech steals ad revenue. 51% of every ad dollar gets gobbled up by tech companies — primarily the cozy, collusive ad-tech duopoly of Google/Facebook (AKA Googbook). If we can shatter the market power of the concentrated ad-tech industry, news companies would go back to getting 80–90% of the ad revenue their reporting generated, which would pay for more reporting.

There’s lots to like about fixing ads. For one thing, a fair ad marketplace would benefit all news reporting, not just the largest news companies — which are dominated by private equity-backed chains and right-wing billionaires who have repeatedly shown that any additional revenues will go to pay shareholders, not more reporters. Fair ads would also provide an income for reporters who strike out on their own, covering local politics or specific beats, without making themselves sharecroppers for Big Media.

One way to fix ads would be to break up the ad-tech “stacks.” Googbook both operate impossibly conflicted ad-placement businesses in which they bargain with themselves on behalf of both advertisers and publishers, with the winners always being the tech companies. The AMERICA Act from Senator Mike Lee would force ad giants to divest themselves of business units that create conflicts of interest. It’s popular, bipartisan legislation — and I do mean bipartisan; its backers include Elizabeth Warren and Ted Cruz! I wrote about the AMERICA Act and the role it will play in saving news from tech for EFF’s Deeplinks Blog last week:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

This week, I’ve got a followup on Deeplinks about another important way to unrig the ad market: banning surveillance ads:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

Even if we break up the ad-tech stacks, ads will still be bad for the news — and for the public. That’s because the dominant form of digital ads is “behavioral advertising” — the ad-tech sector’s polite euphemism for ads based on spying. You know these ads: you search for shoes and then every website you land on is plastered in shoe ads.

Surveillance ads require a massive, multi-billion-dollar surveillance dragnet, one that tracks you as you physically move through the world, and digitally, as you move through the web. Your apps, your phone and your browser are constantly gathering data on your activities to feed the ad-tech industry.

This data is incredibly dangerous. There’s so much of it, and it’s so loosely regulated, that every spy, cop, griefer, stalker, harasser, and identity thief can get it for pennies and use it however they see fit. The ad-tech industry poses a risk to protesters, to people seeking reproductive care, to union organizers, and to vulnerable people targeted by scammers.

Ad-tech maintains the laughable pretense that all this spying is consensual, because you clicked “I agree” on some garbage-novella of impenatrable legalese that no one — not even the ad-tech companies’ lawyers — has ever read from start to finish. But when people are given a real choice to opt out of digital spying, they do. Apple gave Ios users a one-click opt-out of in-app tracking and 96% of users clicked it (the other 4% must have been confused — or on Facebook’s payroll). The decision cost Facebook $10b in the first year. You love to see it:

https://www.cnbc.com/2022/02/02/facebook-says-apple-ios-privacy-change-will-cost-10-billion-this-year.html

But here’s the real punchline: Apple blocked Facebook from spying on its customers, but Apple kept spying on them, just as invasively as Facebook had, in order to target them with Apple’s own ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

The thing that stops companies from spying on us isn’t the strength of their character, it’s the discipline imposed by regulation and competition — the fear that they’ll get fined more than they make from spying, and the fear that they’ll lose so much business from spying that they’ll end up in the red.

Which is why we need a legal ban on ads, not mere platitudes on billboards advertising companies’ “respect” for our privacy. The US is way overdue for a federal privacy law with a private right of action, which would let you and me sue the companies who violated it, even if no public prosecutor was willing to go to bat for us:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/01/you-should-have-right-sue-companies-violate-your-privacy

A privacy law that required companies to get your affirmative, enthusiastic, ongoing, specific, informed consent to gather and process your personal data would end surveillance ads forever. Despite the self-serving nonsense the ad-tech industry serves up about people “liking relevant ads,” no one wants to be spied on. 96% of Ios users don’t lie.

A ban on surveillance ads wouldn’t just serve the public, it would also save the news. The alternative to surveillance ads is context ads: ads based on what a reader is reading, rather than what that reader was doing. Context-based ad marketplaces ask, “What am I bid for this Pixel 6 user in Boise who is reading about banana farming?” instead of “What am I bid for this 22 year old man who recently searched for information about suicidal ideation and bankruptcy protection?”

Context ads perform a little worse than surveillance ads — by about 5%:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/29/taken-in-context/#creep-me-not

So presumably advertisers won’t pay as much for context ads as they do for behavioral targeting. But that doesn’t mean that the news will lose money. Because context ads favor publishers over ad-tech platforms — no publisher will ever know as much about internet users as spying ad-tech giants do, but no tech company will ever know as much about a publisher’s content as the publisher does.

Behavioral ad marketplaces have high barriers to entry, requiring troves of surveillance data on billions of internet users. They are naturally anticompetitive and able to command a much higher share of each ad dollar than a contextual ad service (which would have much more competiition) could.

On top of that: if behavioral advertising was limited to people who truly consented to it, 96% of users would never see an ad!

So contextual ads will show up for more users, and more of the money they generate will land in news publishers’ pockets. If context ads fetch less money per ad, the losses will be felt by ad-tech companies, not publishers.

Finally: publishers who join the fight against surveillance ads won’t be alone — they’ll be joining with a massive, popular movement against commercial surveillance. The news business is — and always has been — a niche subject, of burning interest to publishers, reporters, and a small minority of news junkies. The news on its own is a small fry in policy debates. But when it comes to killing surveillance ads, the news has a class alliance with the mass movement for privacy, and together, they’re a force to reckon with.

My article on killing surveillance ads is part three of an ongoing, five-part series for EFF on how we save the news from tech. The introduction, which sets out the whole series, is here:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

The final two parts will come out over the next two weeks, and then we’re going to publish the whole thing as a PDF that suitable for sharing. Watch this space!

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Manchester, Edinburgh, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: EFF's banner for the save news series; the word 'NEWS' appears in pixelated, gothic script in the style of a newspaper masthead. Beneath it in four entwined circles are logos for breaking up ad-tech, ending surveillance ads, opening app stores, and end-to-end delivery. All the icons except for 'ending surveillance ads' are greyed out.]

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/31/context-ads/#class-formation

Image: EFF https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

CC BY 3.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #class formation #ad-tech #context ads #news #gdpr #big tech #eff #monopoly #how to save the news #link taxes

[californiannostalgia]

Things They Could've Done Differently in Doctor Strange: Multiverse of Madness

A list of ideas, in no particular order

*SPOILERS FOR MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS*

1. Give Benedict Cumberbatch a Monologue to Act with (bonus points if it's about the million bad endings he had to sort through to find the Endgame option): Instead of a short convo in the benches, have the doctor who got dusted come up to Stephen at the afterparty of the wedding. In fact, have several people ask for his autograph or talk to him like he’s a celebrity beforehand, casually questioning him about the biggest call he made with the fate of the universe. When the past colleague questions the validity of his choice, maybe Stephen gets fed up, and the conversation goes something like this:

Doctor Colleague: What if you’d done [    ] before― Stephen: Nope, wouldn’t have worked, [    ] and [    ] goes off too soon, shit gets blown up, everyone dies, try again― Doctor Colleague: Then what if you’d [    ]― Stephen: Again, no, [    ] and [    ] means [           ], everyone dies! Doctor Colleague: But what if― Stephen: No, no, it doesn’t work! I looked through a million other choices we could’ve made, and we lost every single time. You think I made that call based on, what, personal preference? I saw the universe die more times than you can fathom, I saw galaxies crumble, why does everyone think― My opinion had no sway in the decision I made. I made the only choice I was supposed to. (etc.)

2. Show at least one way Stephen's disability impacts his daily life: Maybe his hands shake too much to steadily hold a glass. Maybe he can't get a key in the lock at the first try. It's either his hands or his magic, and Stephen chose magic. Show us the consequences.

3. I feel like the scariest villain should've been an Alternate Strange: We can keep the creepy chase scenes and all the emotional scenes with Wanda, Elizabeth Olsen’s performance was phenomenal and I love her. But everyone was talking about how Stephen has the potential for great evil. I feel like we should’ve gotten payoff on that.

4. At least One Alternate Christine should die in front of Stephen: I loved what they did in What If (tv series), we should’ve gotten to see Stephen’s grief on live-action too. Especially since it creates a direct parallel between him and Wanda. (They each only have the one love interest over countless timelines, yet they still can’t hold onto them, huh. Cruel fate.)

5. Elaborate on the Scarlet Witch Prophecy Thing: We needed a set-up of the prophecy in the movie before the actual reveal of the temple.

6. Wanda destroys the Big Bad Strange's universe (fulfilling the Prophecy―no one said anything about which universe) and seals the both of them in eternal combat: This feels like a better idea than what happened in the movie. Also it’s a cool parallel with an Alternate Stephen from the What If series.

7. More dreams about Alternate Stephens Fucking Up: Stephen should’ve just been constantly dreaming about instances where he makes the wrong choice and destroys the world. Drill it into his head that if he strays from the path, the world is done for.

8. Let Stephen complain about how apparently the only path for him is the straight and narrow one: If divergence from the Path guarantees certain destruction of the world by his own hand, how much freedom does he truly have? Show us what's so special about this superhero who sees everything that could go wrong with him every night he dreams, then wakes up to not do those things. He's tempted, he's afraid, and he Chooses not to do wrong.

9. Put more focus on Stephen giving Wanda a Second Chance: If he fucks up, it spells the end of universes, so he Can't fuck up; he has that pressure on him. But Wanda's fuck-ups don't automatically destroy universes. Wanda's fuck-ups can be recovered from. Let Stephen give Wanda what he will never be able to have across so many thousands of timelines: a second chance after a grief-stricken fuck-up. Trust her to help him fight the Big Bad Evil Strange.

10. Let Stephen snark and whine about his difficult life and still unfailingly do the Right Thing: We must remember that he is a smartass. Maybe he still gets jealous of practicing surgeons. Maybe he gives life-saving advice to doctors of alternate dimensions who are trying to save an Alternate Christine, whilst wishing he could do the operation himself. Let him complain about how everyone is hounding him about Turning Evil all the time. He rolls with the punches, accepts the madness that his life has become and the hard choices that are asked of him, but he can still complain about them all the way.

(I'm just choosing to focus on the two main characters here. I think a lot of the side characters deserved to be written better, but elaborating on that would make this post really long.)

TL;DR: Stephen and Wanda are characters with so much potential. They’ve got backstory, they’re morally complex, they’re uber-powerful and nigh impossible to keep in check. The only one that can stop them is themselves, apparently. Isn’t that interesting? Morality, power, corruption, accountability, grief, and sacrifice. When you’re faced with the physical manifestation of your choices, right or wrong, how do you grapple with the consequences?

#doctor strange #multiverse of madness #doctor strange multiverse of madness #stephen strange #wanda maximoff #my reviews #my thoughts #multiverse of madness review #doctor strange 2 #doctor strange 2 review #scarlet witch #fix-it #doctor strange spoilers #multiverse of madness spoilers #marvel #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #character study

[starchaseriseverything]

"Reggie, my love."

"What, James?"

James felt so in love in this moment that he thinks he might propose right then and there, without a ring, or without Sirius knowing.

"Can we tell him yet?"

"No."

Regulus and James have been in a secret relationship for about two years now. Honestly, James is surprised Sirius hasn't figured it out or that he hasn't told Sirius.

James has told Sirius everything since they were fourteen. They were immediate friends, but James didn't start trusting Sirius until fourteen. Just like with Marlene.

James has known Marlene for as long as he can remember. Their parents were friends before they were born, and they've always grown up together. But, he didn't start trusting her right away.

"Why not?"

"You know how Sirius is."

They are in the Slytherin common room. Sirius never goes in there. He's banned. Slughorn banned him after a really bad prank he did on Severus. He hasn't been allowed in there since.

Which is why they use the common room to meet up. Now, of course, their friends are always there. Especially when James' best friend is dating Regulus'. But, it's the best place.

Marlene rolls her eyes. "Yeah, dramatic."

"Who else is dramatic that we know?" James asks. "Oh, that's right, you."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Hey!" Barty yells. "I'm the only one that can call people bitches."

"Oh, I'm sorry, mister 'I won't call Evan a bitch'."

"Can everyone just shut the fuck up?"

"Sorry, Cas."

"Sorry, babe."

"Talk, now. Why can't you tell Sirius. It's not that big a deal."

"You really want us to tell him?" Regulus asks. "Fine, let's see how it goes."

Barty smirks. "Yes! I gotta go get Ev and Dora!" Barty jumps up and runs up the stairs while calling over his shoulder, "Don't start without me!"

Evan, Barty, and Pandora come bounding down the stairs. "What is happening?" Pandora asks. "B just told us to hurry and didn't explain."

Barty smiles. "Their telling Sirius."

Evan' eyes go wide. "No."

"Yes."

"They do realize what's going to happen, right?"

"Yep." He pauses. "Well, maybe. I'm not entirely sure."

"Would you two just shut up?" Regulus states.

***

"Hey, Pads. How are you?"

"What do you want, Prongs?" Sirius looks behind him. "Is that my brother and Slytherins?"

"Dora' a Ravenclaw."

"Not the point. What are they doing here?"

"Yeah, about that..." He got cut off by his best friend.

"Jamie and Reg are dating."

"What the fuck, Marls!"

"Their what!?"

Lily laughs. "He had to have figured it out at some point."

"Shut up, Lils."

"When the fuck."

Mary smiles. "Mar, no."

"Two years."

"Two years!? You've been...."

Remus continues, "Dating."

"For two years!?"

"Yes?"

"Also, when did you start calling Rosier, Dora?"

"When he started dating Reg."

"Marlene Elizabeth McKinnon!"

"You made friends with Slytherin'?"

"Technically, Dora' a Ravenclaw."

"Not the point! Do you love him?"

James knows he loves him but he's not sure if he should tell him. He's said it before, but Regulus has never said it back. "Of course I love him."

"Then, choose."

"What?"

"Me or him?"

"Pads, please."

"Pads, don't make him choose."

"Stay out of this, Moony. Me or him?"

James looks at his best friend. He knows that if he asks Marlene right now to choose between him and Dorcas, she would choose Dorcas 100%.

Marlene knows exactly what he's thinking. "You know I will be with you either way."

"I know, Marls. But I also know you would choose Dorcas over me."

"You know what you have to do." James nods.

"Pads, Sirius."

Sirius gives him a pitying look. "Great, choose my brother over me."

"He hasn't even said anything." Mary says.

"He never calls me by my name."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't. I don't want to see you. You're not my friend. Not anymore." He walks up the stairs.

"Moony, Wormy."

Peter shakes his head and follows Sirius. Remus walks up to him. "You know I love you, right?" James nods. "But I will always choose Sirius." He nods again.

"I love you, too." He walks up the stairs.

Lily and Mary walk up to him. "You know we always will choose you."

"No, go to Sirius. I'll be fine. Besides, I'm always happy." James could hear Marlene scoff behind him.

"Yeah, right." Mary says sadly.

"Please, just go to Sirius, ok?"

"Yeah, we will. In a little." Lily hugs him, and Mary joins soon after. They stay like that for half a minute, and then they walk upstairs.

"Jamie -"

"I'm fine, Marls." He walks to the passage way to get out and stops in his tracks. "Don't follow me." He walks out.

James makes it to the Astronomy Tower and stares down at the ground. He can see the dent on the ground where he rammed his broom into it. The blood from that so-called ramming.

He can remember how he was so distracted by Regulus that he didn't see where he was going and didn't realize he was going down until he hit the ground. Luckily, his head didn't hit it, but he did get some pretty bad bruises from it.

"Jamie?" He didn't even hear the footsteps.

"I'm fine, Reg."

"No, you're not. You choose me over, Sirius. He's your best friend."

"No, he's not. Marls is."

"Not the point. Jamie, you can't just run away from your problems."

"I didn't. My problems are in my head. They always are."

"Jamie -"

"I'm fine, Regulus."

"No, you're not! You can't just do that!"

"Do what?"

"Run away from everyone!"

James finally turns around to face Regulus. "Why would anyone care?"

"I do! I love you! No one else!"

"You - you - you just -" James takes a deep breath in. "You love me?"

"Of course I do, you idiot. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. Because I'm a Gryffindor?"

Regulus laughs. "Why would I care? Even if I didn't love you before we started dating, I would still love you now."

James smiles. "Really?" Regulus nods. "I love you, too."

James loves Regulus so much. He's glad it turned out this way. He would have rather kept his boyfriend and friend, but it wasn't supposed to work out that way.

"I know. How could you not?" They both laugh.

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 #archive of my own #starchaser #jegulus #dorlene #wolfstar #angst #james potter #marauders era #regulus black #sirius black #barty crouch junior #marlene mckinnon #evan rosier #pandora rosier #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #lily evans #remus lupin

[herwritingartcowboy]

please may i have Oshi no ko fluff Platonic headcanons of being the youngest of the triplets of Ruby and Aqua and having the personality like Elizabeth Liones from the seven deadly sins. You had been a young nurse (you died from overworking) before being reborn as one of Ai's children..you were extremely shy growing up and whenever someone said that you were cute and precious..you would bury your red face in your mother's shoulder or you would hide behind Aqua. Mum's death hit you the hardest because you loved your mum dearly. You made the decision to became a violinist/musician and you became quite popular in regards to that because you were often a composer for movies and theatre performances.

You may be deemed as cold and standoffish at times but you were actually really kind.

https://youtu.be/jfjfzKf85Ac (that's the type of music by the way that you often played)

A/n: The relationships are Platonic

Fandom: Oshi No Ko

Character(s): Aquamarine Hoshino, Ruby Hoshino

Warning(s): Mention of death

Readers Gender: Female

Before your new life you grew up a bit and very close off wanting to focus on your studies just so you can have a good future. You went to school to become a nurse and you did. Honestly you loved your job as you got to know all about your patients some, one even got you into a certain idol, Ai.

But suddenly nurses or even doctors started to ask you to cover for them. At first you did not mind but out of nowhere it all became your work. It got worse when some of them just stopped doing their work. You would work for hours not getting sleep, food and or water. Your body soon gave out as your health was bad, you had died by overworking yourself.

But yet when your eyes are closed you open them to see Ai? From that day you were now the youngest daughter of your favorite idol.

You were still very shy as when you would go out at even the smallest compliment your face grew red and you would just hide yourself.

You were grateful for Ai as she had treated you so well as you remember the times your parents wouldn't care but you can that Ai cared about you and your siblings. But when Ai died you couldn't stop crying for days as it took both Aqua and Ruby to calm you down.

But you knew you had to move on so as you grew up you had wanted to do something new for your life as that what Ai would have wanted.

As you grew from child to teenager you didn't have many friends as some people would think you're just a rude and cold person but when they get to know you you are just shy and would blush when someone would make the slightest sweet comment about you.

And your older siblings were protected by you as yes you all wear the same uniform but outside of school your clothes are interesting, you may be shy but there are times you like to show your boldness. And after these two lost Ai they didn't want to lose you and know of your naive sweet nature they wanted to make sure you will be okay out in the big world.

Unlike your sister Ruby you didn't want to become an Idol and turned down her offer when she asked you to be her partner. But you confessed to both Aqua and Ruby that your dreams weren't in acting or being an Idol but it was to be a musician mainly a violinist.

Your siblings were encouraging you to follow your dreams as they would always come to your performances. While you were messing around with your violin you started to think about Ai not only was she a great mom but was still a young girl that sadly couldn't live her life out so without thinking you started playing.

And when you performed in front of a crowd many cried as it was both sad but if you really look deep you can find happiness. As it was weird as most of what you play was more cheerful but that proves that you can play any emotion.

That's when managers, producers, artists, musicians came up to you wanting to sign you or work with you.

I feel like in your future you would be putting on classical performances in big theaters, or your music would be in plays or musicals, or in ten backgrounds of songs, tv, and movies.

You had wanted to live a life that Ai would be proud of and that is to live a life you are happy with. You miss her as you do think of her and when you do you like to play a song for her hoping she'll hear it.

#oshi no ko x reader #elizabeth liones #female reader #oshi no ko #oshi no ko imagines #seven deadly sins #sds elizabeth #sds x reader #seven deadly sins x reader #oshi no ko x fem reader #oshi no ko x female reader #oshi no ko x y/n

[booiiee]

Brooklyn Baby

Pairing: Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) × Female Reader

Tags: Fluff, Hyunjae is WHIPPED, They bicker- a LOT, they love each other so much, it's pathetic actually, eventual smut (duh), separate tags and warnings for smut in the smut chapter. MINORS DNI!!

For @un-love 🩷🩷

-------

Chapter 1

It's summer of 2024 you've just shifted your whole life to Brooklyn New York, a decision that you and your friends and family had to all collectively take, Brooklyn is expensive and people are rude sometimes but for the first time you're building your life

You love your job, not a lot of therapist can say that specially with how taxing the job can be, but you really love your job, you're one of the most loved therapist at Brooklyn's biggest hospital NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital (yes i googled that) and let's just say you earn enough to have an entire studio apartment to yourself, something that you've come to realize, you love.

Your job is many things but it is not a job where you have a lot of free time, it might even be busier than working at a fashion magazine like your friend Daisy does,some days she is the only reminder of your life back in your home country, and your love for kpop and a certain kpop idol- Lee Jaehyun from The Boyz.

“Miss Rose, the director wants to see you.” your thoughts were interrupted by your assistant Liz- or Elizabeth, informing you of your rather sudden meeting with the director. Now the old Jasmine would absolutely lose it over being called by the director but moving to a place like Brooklyn from India has made you indifferent to these small anxiety triggering things.

To say that you were surprised would be the understatement of the century. The director had assigned you a patient of your busy (lazy) colleague, some VIP, whose case was “of utmost importance” to the hospital, which in itself was making you angry as if one life was worth more than the other. Nonetheless, you were gonna treat this patient like any other patient.

“Hi, Mr. Eric? I am Dr. Rose. I am taking over your case as of today, as informed. Please follow me this way” you introduce yourself to a tall man with freshly dyed brunette hair with a mask. He must be some high profile person given the way he was avoiding the stares from people.

R- You can keep the mask on until you feel comfortable to talk without them, our session can happen without you having to show your face.

E- Oh that is a relief thank you doctor.

R- So tell me Eric, what do you love doing when you are the most stressed and when you have a lot of leisure time?

E- Oh I thought you’d start with asking me my sickness

R- You say sickness like it is a bad thing

E- Is it not?

R- Well being sick is not great but it is not something derogatory.

*No one is born a patient and no one stays a patient till the end*.

*(From Daily dose of Sunshine)

As far as the questions go, if you’d rather me start with discussing your diagnosis, i am happy to do so

E- No its…its okay we can do your method.

I am skipping the actual therapy part because I am neither a licensed therapist nor a psych student to be writing that.

The 3 weeks you were assigned Eric’s case you found that against your better judgment, you guys were becoming almost friends, which is to say was weird in more ways than one. You were his therapist and you did not know what he looked like. You never asked him to take off his mask. He never mentioned why he prefers to wear one. So you decided you’d start and stay away from him in the hospital corridors when you often bump into each other after his session with your colleague.

E- I know we are not supposed to be friends and all that protocol, but you have really helped me in ways i could never explain and i am not the best person when it comes to gifts but i asked my friend j and he suggested this since you like to read- i've seen all those books in your office

Your gasp was audible to not only Eric but a few staff around as he pulled out a blue box. Eric quickly pulled you aside and for the first time, took off his mask.

R- You’re THE Eric?????

E- I mean I dont really say that about myself but i think you know me? Which is even better, so you know that i can afford this and im not robbing a bank for this gift, which also is not the case cause J bought this really-

R- Wait, I WILL not accept that, and give me a minute Wow! okay.

Eric, hi, I love your music and you'd understand when i say how weird this is to know my patient is a member of the group i love

E- aww doc you’re a fan. That makes me wanna be your friend even moore

R- Yeah, we’re gonna…we’ll talk about that later.

Wait, you're Eric from TBZ, so your friend J who often drops you to your session, the one who bought this SUPER EXPENSIVE gift, is J, Jaehyun? As in, Lee Jaehyun?

E- Yup you got that right! The one and only! In Fact he is on his way up, now that you’ve seen me, we can all talk comfortably

R- Oh No… no no, NO.

E- But why? Do you not like Hyunjae? *Gasp* Are you a hyunjae antiii??

R- WHAT???? NO! I could never hate my Hyunjae! not in this lifetime for suree!!!

“Well that’s good to know, Miss Rose”

You could identify that voice in a room full of noisy people, let alone the silence of the corridor, so you had no choice but to tun around and see a curly haired masked man smiling at you. Oh this is not good for your job.

-----

Chapter 2 will be posted super soon!!

#hyunjae fluff #hyunjae #lee jaehyun #tbz #tbz hyunjae #tbz × reader #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #kpop boygroups

[kira-nerys-rocks]

5, 10, 14, 24 (Elizabeth Weir for any of the insert character ones :) )

Thank you so much for this Elizabeth centered ask <3

5 Out of all your fanworks that include Elizabeth, which is your favourite?

Oh, this is a tough one since I have made so many and quite a few that I really love! And I'm really bad at picking favourites. I think I'll just go with this one though, because I just touched it up a bit and it definitely is one of my favorite fanarts with Elizabeth and I'll get it signed by Torri and Rachel at Basingstoke next month.

Of my fics... I think I might go with this Cornweir fic because I love how flirty she is here xD

10 What's your favourite piece of fanart for Elizabeth?

Oh, again tough, there's so much great fanart out there! You make great fanart and so do @xenantis and @salchat just to name a few...

I think one of my favorites is this one, which I've had as a background on several phones, unfortunately I have no idea who made it, I downloaded it ages ago (please let me know if you know who made so I can give proper credit)

14 Is there a character or ship you were so sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind?

Hm. Not really... I think it was a tiny bit unexpected for me to write for a hetero ship when I wrote my first msr fanfic but I wouldn't say that I was sure I wouldn't ever write a hetero ship xD

24 What's your favourite thing about Elizabeth?

Okay, also here, where do I start and where do I stop? I just love her so much for so many reasons and im still sure I'll forget to list some of them♥️ also thanks for letting me talk about one of my favorite characters ever!

I love how skilled she is when it comes both to diplomacy and leadership qualities. She's literally so badass when she walks into negotiations with the Genii alone, unarmed, blindfolded and handcuffed and they're still scared of her because their intimidation tactis don't work the way they want them to because she's just that good? Queen. Literally. I also love it when she worries about the teams when they're late on their reports and she just knows them so well that she prepares rescue missions even when she has no confirmation yet. I also love it when she is sassy and defends both her own decisions or those of her subordinates. I also love it that she's a hugger and a dog person! There's just so much that I love about her. Have I mentioned that I love her? No?

Fandom Asks

#ask game #elizabeth weir #cornweir

[the-rad1o-demon]

Article title: "Let's Talk About The Kids Online Safety Act (KOSA)"

Article text:

"Back in July, the U.S. Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation approved the Children and Teens’ Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA 2.0) and the Kids Online Safety Act (KOSA). COPPA is good legislation focused on the collection of data by web operators from users under the age of 13.

KOSA, on the other hand, is not great. The bill aims to prevent harassment, exploitation, and mental health trauma to minors on the Internet. Doing so will require broad content filtering to limit minors’ access to specific types of online content.

'This bill sets out requirements for covered platforms (i.e., social networks, video streaming services, or other applications that connect to the internet and are likely to be used by minors) to protect minors from online harm, including requirements relating to (1) safeguards to restrict access to the personal data of minors, (2) tools to help parents supervise a minor’s use of a platform, and (3) reporting of harm to minors from using the platform.'

The summary of the bill sounds innocuous enough. There’s a lot hiding below the surface. It was originally introduced in 2022, and its authors, Sens. Richard Blumenthal (D-CT) and Marsha Blackburn (R-TN), had to take it back to the drawing board after a coalition of organizations publicly opposed it.

Those critics worry that it will greatly limit access to sex education information and resources for LGBTQ+ youth. It will put significant pressure on online services to over-moderate users and content. It also forces State Attorney Generals to make decisions on what information is 'appropriate.' We’re already witnessing what happens when the 'appropriateness' of content and culture is left to individual states. Book bans, sports bans on transgender students, bans on gender-affirming care, and groups like Moms For Liberty taking over school boards.

Marsha Blackburn has already admitted that her goal for this bill is 'protecting minor children from the transgender in this culture.' That statement alone puts this entire bill in the same category as all of those other state regulations Republicans are trying to push through. It makes any democratic support of the bill unacceptable. Someone needs to call Elizabeth Warren and tell her to rescind her recent co-sponsorship of KOSA.

Even President Biden has voiced misguided support for this bill. Saying, 'We’ve got to hold these platforms accountable for the national experiment they’re conducting on our children for profit.' In the same way we don’t need or want politicians making policies or laws about our bodies, we shouldn’t need or want politicians or web providers making decisions about what is or isn’t appropriate for our children. That’s our job as their parents. Establishing a nanny state isn’t in anyone’s best interests.

KOSA also requires that web platforms enable stricter parental controls. Parental controls are good in theory, and when actual parents enable them. But this bill puts the onus on web providers to make decisions for everyone’s kids. Including older minors who, at the age of 15 or 16, should have some right to privacy and access to information. If you’re a kid who doesn’t feel safe at home for whatever reason, being able to find online mental health resources may mean the difference between life and death.

The other bad part of this bill is that it will require websites and online platforms to collect MORE data from users. If you think The Internet knows too much about you now, just wait. Age verification may require all users to provide much more personally identifiable information (PII). Your IT Guy can tell you this will put your information at significant risk of data breaches and threaten users’ overall privacy.

To some degree, I understand and even support a desire to get Big Tech under control and held accountable for bad actions and platform mismanagement. But The Kids Online Safety Act doesn’t stop there. It’s going to make at-risk communities even more at-risk. It’s going to adversely affect user privacy. And most importantly, at least one of the writers of the bill is prepared to use it to hammer away at trans rights and social acceptance.

Reach out to your Congressional Reps and ask them to vote no on KOSA Resisbot has you covered. Or you can look up contact information for your Congressperson(s) here. If you do make a call, IndivisibleSF has a good script you can use when you leave a message."

-- End Article

#lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbtqplus #lgbtq community #lgbtqia2s+ #lgbtq+ #no privacy on the internet #no privacy #stop kosa #kosa bill #kosa act #kosa #kids online safety act #internet censorship #politics #us politics #politicians fucking up again #this will not end well

[nequittezpaswrites]

Will Turner is not smart

Okay, so. I like Will. I enjoy him a lot. He’s got a good sense of humor, he’s brave, he’s pretty, he has excellent taste in women—he’s got a lot of good qualities.

Brains are not one of those qualities.

I never realized this when first watching the movies, but, uh. Will makes a lot of… questionable choices. And sure, from a Doylist perspective there are good reasons for Will to do what he does in a lot of cases. But from a Watsonian perspective he can be a little… unhinged.

Let’s look at Curse of the Black Pearl, shall we?

Unhinged Decision #1: Crossing blades with a pirate

This is a bad choice. First of all, I don’t care how many hours a day Will practices swordplay—he’s not going to be able to win in a fight if he’s never faced a real opponent. And since it seems like this is just Will practicing alone in the smithy while his master drunkenly sleeps, we have to assume that this is Baby’s First Sword Fight. Jack literally questions the wisdom of this decision in the movie, and he is right to do so, because it is a bonkers move.

It is an especially bonkers move because there are dozens of Navy officers running through the streets right outside looking for Jack. All Will has to do is shout and they’ll come running. They do come running, in fact, when they hear the commotion of the sword fight! There is no good reason for Will to engage in a sword fight with Jack Sparrow.

It’s great from a movie perspective, don’t get me wrong. This is my favorite sword fight scene literally ever. But in-universe, this is a weird and irrational decision to make. Even if Jack did “threaten Miss Swann”. Unhinged.

Unhinged Decision #2: Springing Jack from jail

This refers both to the decision and the execution of that decision.

So, in the sword fight above, Will makes it very clear that he does not like pirates. So clear, in fact, that he says, “I practice three hours a day so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it!” Not him, it.

But Elizabeth has been kidnapped and Will is desperate. The Navy doesn’t think Jack knows where the Pearl makes berth, therefore won’t consult him, but Will goes to talk to Jack and finds out that he does know where it makes berth.

A reasonable person might share this information with the Navy. Hey, Norrington, Jack Sparrow here says he’ll lead you there if you promise you won’t hang him. Norrington might resist at first, but he doesn’t exactly have any other leads. He can probably be convinced.

But let’s say that Will does tell Norrington, and Norrington says no, because Jack Sparrow is a dirty liar who lies and will lead them on a wild goose chase, wasting time that could be spent looking for Elizabeth. Okay, Will—it is now a reasonable decision to spring Jack from jail.

Will makes a bargain: he will break Jack out, and Jack will lead him to the Pearl and help him get Elizabeth back. Will fulfills his end of the bargain, and then waits as Jack collects his sword and pistol.

This is how you get murdered, Will! This is a pirate! He literally held you at gunpoint hours ago. What if he lied, like pirates are wont to do? What if you free him and he just murders you and goes on his merry way? What’s stopping him?

None of this occurs to Will. Unhinged.

Semi-unhinged Decision: Stealing the Interceptor

Note that I did not say stealing a boat. If reason fails and the Navy won’t let Jack lead them to Isla de Muerta, then procuring transportation does become necessary. Will and Jack are going to need a boat.

Thing is, Port Royal is… a port. There are lots of boats around. All shapes and sizes. Most of those boats aren’t defended by Navy soldiers, and probably some of them could be reasonably manned by two people. Jack, after all, made it from Tortuga to Port Royal in Anamaria’s little one-mast boat. There are surely similar vessels docked in Port Royal, and I can’t imagine that it would be harder to commandeer one of those than it would be to steal a ship from the Navy. 

Sure, they couldn’t pick up a crew in Tortuga in a smaller vessel, but they wouldn’t need a big crew if they stole a smaller vessel. Jack’s plan seems to be negotiating with Barbossa for the return of the Pearl, so there’s no real reason that he needs a crew for that, either. Yes, he’ll need a crew to sail the Pearl again, but surely if he can negotiate for the ship then he could negotiate some sort of transfer.

This gets a pass on being totally unhinged because time is of the essence. They need to get to Isla de Muerta before Barbossa and his crew spill Elizabeth’s blood, realize she’s the wrong person, and murder her in retaliation. They have to get there quickly, so they need the “fastest ship in the Caribbean.” I don’t know enough about sailing to say whether the detour in Tortuga to pick up a crew undermines the speed of the Interceptor, so… semi-unhinged.

Unhinged Decision #3: Promising the Interceptor to Anamaria

What are you doing, Will? That’s not your boat. That’s the Navy’s boat! Even if you bring Elizabeth back, they’re going to be very upset about you giving their ship to a pirate! You have a much better chance of being pardoned for the capital offense you’ve just committed if you return their ship along with Elizabeth. Unhinged.

Unhinged Decision #4: Knocking Jack out

Why, Will? Why did you trust Jack all this way only to betray him now? It appears, from the movie, that Will overheard that he is “leverage” and believes that Jack is going to trade his life for the Pearl. But he doesn’t realize until later that his blood is needed to break the curse, because he’s still in denial about his father being a pirate.

Will, if the pirates didn’t need your blood, why would they give a shit about you? They certainly wouldn’t trade away an entire ship just to, what, kill you? Just what sort of bargain do you think Jack is trying to strike, here? Unhinged.

Unhinged Decision #5: Rescuing Jack in the most dramatic way possible

We’re skipping to the end here. Will putting a gun to his own head is a good call in context, and him failing to smartly word his bargain with Barbossa is a forgivable mistake. Decent to good decisions the rest of the way through. Jack’s rescue, though…

Will has already demonstrated that he can break Jack out of prison easily. I doubt the Navy has had time to change the structure of the cells—the doors can still be lifted free with leverage. Can’t you just… spring him from jail the same way? Or maybe take whatever Isla de Muerta gold you used to buy your fancy outfit and showy hat, and instead use it to bribe someone else to do it so you have plausible deniability?

There are so many people at the hanging, Will. So many soldiers with guns. So many witnesses to you doing crime. (This will come back to haunt you in future films, Will!)

Will explicitly states “If all I have achieved here is that the hangman earns two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. My conscience will be clear.” Oh yeah? Well I’m pretty sure Jack would prefer that the hangman earned zero pairs of boots, and that you’d planned a better rescue.

Will gets lucky because Elizabeth loves him back and convinces her father not to hang him and to let Jack get away, but Will couldn’t count on any of that and seemed 100% prepared to die. Unhinged.

#potc meta #potc #pirates of the caribbean #will turner #curse of the black pearl #cotbp #potc cotbp

[anghraine]

I never saw anyone complainy about Darcy's reaction to Georgiana, but if I saw I would riot. He is a victim of Wickham and his decision, while not 100% right is not to be judge. I say this especially because I saw a similar situation in my life, where a girl of 14 had a thing with an adult and believe me, instead of judging the adult, a lot of people were blaming the girl, THE 14 YEAR OLD GIRL WAS BLAMED NOT THE 26 MAN.

So, if even nowadays we have dumb people judging a child instead of the adult, imagine in the regency era. If I was Georgiana sister I would 100% be quiet. I wouldn't want my sister to go through what I saw that 14 year old go through.

Besides, If someone is to blame for what happened with Lydia is Mr and Mrs Bennet, her parents, especially Mr. Bennet. He knew his daughter was innocent and would do inappropriate things and, instead of doing his fatherly duty and forbid her to go and help her to be more reasonable.

I've definitely seen it, unfortunately.

While the #1 responsible party is Wickham, by a mile, Lydia's general propensity towards impulsive, self-serving actions is pretty clearly a result of her parents' mixture of over-indulgence and neglect. Wickham would have been a danger to someone regardless, but the Bennet parents' impact on Lydia by 16 made her a particularly convenient target for Wickham or anyone else who flattered his way into her affections.

I also think that people sometimes forget that, while Georgiana is the proximate victim and has suffered the most acutely, the one Wickham really wanted to punish in her case was Darcy. When he trashes Georgiana to Elizabeth, the point seems less malice towards Georgiana herself (I suspect that "she is nothing to me" is one of the truer things he says) than tainting Darcy by association ("she is too much like her brother", etc). And he does also smear Darcy's character directly, of course.

This isn't to say that Darcy has it worse than Georgiana or Lydia, because he certainly doesn't or come close, but I think it's worth noting that he is the primary target of Wickham's malice and one of his victims as well, and people don't always appreciate just what a villain Wickham represented him as in their social context.

Even the vague details of Wickham's account that Darcy picks up from Elizabeth's rejection are enough to tell him he's been accused of something he considers depraved and a number of people, including Elizabeth, fully believe it. That's not equivalent to Wickham's exploitation of teenage girls, but it's still very bad, actually! So the idea that Darcy is the main culprit here is pretty distasteful to me, personally.

We can acknowledge that Darcy could have sacrificed the reputation of his 15-y-o sister (and ward) to protect any number of other girls, and instead he chose to prioritize the welfare of a single person because he personally loves her and is responsible for her. But we can also acknowledge that it's an awful choice to have to make and only happened because Wickham is a shitheel and Darcy keeps having to do damage control.

My best friend and I have talked about this kind of moral quandary—I'm sure there's a formal name somewhere, but we often talk about the question of whether taking a certain action for moral reasons, when you might have taken even more moral actions, is ignoble or simply less noble than you might have been. Like, are people obligated to do the most righteous thing possible, regardless of the cost to themselves or those around them, to be considered acting rightly at all? I'm not a philosopher, but I think it's a pretty difficult question and certainly more complex than "Darcy trying to protect the child under his care is reprehensible toxic masculinity" or whatever.

#and yeah the consequences for georgiana would be pretty dire imo #reputation-wise #anon replies #respuestas #austen blogging #austen fanwank #lady anne blogging #fitzwilliam darcy #george wickham #georgiana darcy #lydia bennet #long post

[scover-va]

I need to know more about Michael's mom... Is she a cool mom?

SHE IS A VERY COOL MOM janet afton you will always be famous. to me

Im taking this as a chance to finally ramble abt her anyways so Janet's core inspo when designing her was to avoid 2 key things. Don't make her like Immortal & Th Restless's Clara (due to clara representing michael, not mrs afton, so i wanted to avoid that), and don't base her too heavily off of Ballora. I still have ties to Ballora's character (a music-based theme, blue-centric colour palette, im sure there were more basic ideas but everything else is more hc than themes to keep up) due to my hc thingy of each Funtime having ties to William's wife + kids, but yknow.

But yeah. Funky lady who played bass guitar + did backup vocals in a band during her high school and college years. Literally her and William dating can be summed up by "Seriously, what do you see in that guy?!" "He makes me laugh." bc she was and is WAY out of his goddamn league. Not just bc of the whole serial killer thing he was just an even bigger loser in college. Normal people dont develop a crush on a woman after she nearly breaks your nose and makes you bleed, William /j

But yeah uhh. I also dont like the idea of her being absent or neglectful purely because I got way too attached to her (i was originally gonna do that just to make things easy for myself but. Pretty lady,,, I am a very simple lesbian what can i say) so like. She obviously wasnt the greatest, most fantastic mom to ever exist given she was kinda maybe sorta well aware William was making some weird fucking clowns, but like. Hey. She tried. Also side note my reasoning for her being absent during the whole. Yknow. '83 event (and just evan's bday in general) is bc Evan + Elizabeth are twins and Elizabeth demanded a girls-only trip for her bday, and Janet promised Evan she'd do something just as special for him when she got back. That never happened bc he died lmao loser /j

But yeah uhh. Shes got a lot of regrets. Wishes she coulda done a lot of things better. Kinda dies with those regrets. Ive seen people say that one of fnaf's charms is that no character is 100% good and i LOVE that, and wanted to keep it up with Janet. Good mom and overall a good person, however made some bad decisions along the way and whatnot.

Im still working out specifics (ive been slowly working on a lil private fic abt her and william meeting + their early relationship) but uhhh. Minor notes that dont get their own paragraphs is that William sampled her voice for Ballora so yay easy voice claim, she had an on and off relationship with her band's lead singer (her name's Bev), her birth name is actually Janice Schmidt but if you call her Janice she'll knock at least 2 of ur teeth out, she's a runaway teen and got adopted by this older couple bc her home life kinda sucked (idk specifics yet), and also girlie has an extensive criminal record of minor angsty teen type charges. Also teen Mike dying his hair and then 2020's Michael's hairstyle are both kinda references to Janet's hair because he wnated to look less like his father. Thats all ty. No read more bc you WILL look at my mrs afton post, boy /j

Actually no theres more that im remembering as i write the tags and edit a few details. Back to her and William because god im insane about them. So for starters it. Well i was gonna say Janet was def the first to flirt but i think William definitely developed a crush first and they only kept talking bc of said crush so its kinda up for debate. Anyways yeah at first it was a HUGE sorta like "Well he's funny especially when I fluster him so this can be just a fun lil thing" but because they chatted more they def kinda like. Clicked more. William was a huge fan of listening to her music (from. a distance. he looked kinda like a creep but at least janet only misinterpreted it once) but like *specifically* janet he didnt give a fucking shit abt the rest of the band. Uhh. They had their first run-in and janet kinda. Well. Punched him in the nose before he cleared up that he is NOT a pervert or anything weird like that (bc a guy that looks older than he is staring from a distance when there is a clear crowd he could join kinda gave janet the Wrong idea), then they later bumped into each other in the hall and chatted for a bit, then they kinda just kept "accidentally" running into one another. Uhhh. Some cigaerette-themed flirting and a house party later, yay dating :] can you tell where the current cut-off of the fic is /j Also idk how to put this down properly but they are both runaways and can kinda. Get that vibe from one another. Literally Michael is like some fucked up abomination of the both of them between the troubled past + weird situationship thing + runaway stuff + a lot of minor details that arent important rn. I just. Yeah Janet means the world to me go thru her tag on my blog for some art. Not all of my janet art is posted but the non-posted stuff is all concept work/doodles or just. Shit im too embarrassed to post lmao. Anyways NOW im done ty for reading

#scov.txt #janet afton #fnaf: hauntings of the past au #scov.ocs #it goes into the oc tag bc fuck you thats why #RRAUAGAH I AM. SO INSANE OVER HER #afton family and their weird gay situationships. aka will + henry and mike + jeremy and janet + bev #IK A LOT OF THIS ISNT EVEN ABT HER KIDS im so sorry #i dont have a lotta thoughts on evan and honestly i domt have a lot of family details figured out #like. everything is kinda just. general basics #plus also i dont wanna give janet too much focus on account of shes not. extremely important #she has her role to play in the au but theres far more influential characters yknow?? #anyways for those of you who have read this far both w/ post and tags. i have one last thing to share #my gf and i have a spinoff au and she and henry are currently dating (both got divorced long in advance dw) #(like. several decades ago. bc this is ghost shenanigans in the sb era) #thats all ty and gn (<- not sleeping its just night where i am)

[yr-obedt-cicero]

What is your opinion of the Ron Chernow book on Hamilton? I'm reading it now and it's informative but I don't know how I feel about it yet and we're already almost at Hamilton's wedding. Thoughts?

Oh boy, that book...

Honestly, I hate it but I also quite appreciate it. It's one of the only Hamilton biographies that goes so in-depth about Hamilton's life, and almost covers everything. Like, it's the size of a Bible for a reason and I really did enjoy the background checks on all the figures that were brought up (Like especially Faucette, or Maria). But also it's entirely bias, and filled with inaccuracies. I haven't read the book in a year, and no longer have it in my possession but here are a few things I remember that I hated about it;

Rambling — oh God, does Chernow have a tendency to go on and on and on. He often repeats the same thing several times throughout the book, especially in regards to praising figures in the book, but I'll talk about that and his glorification a bit later. I completely understand the habit to ramble on, but there is the opportunity to edit over your work. I swear after Hamilton did anything, Chernow would copy and paste the same sentence about how “hAMilTOn WAs JUst sUch aN InsPiRaTiOn wIth hIS iRrepresSiBLe pAsSiON aS An ImMiGrANt” I get it. I know. I would go on about how rising from your poor status wasn't anything new or unheard of, but I'll spare that for today.

Glorification — Chernow has a terrible case of glorifying the historical figures mentioned in the book, mainly Hamilton - as he is the protagonist, I suppose - but also Washington. He paints everyone else that is featured as these evil, big, bad villains that are just out to ruin poor, innocent Hamilton's life. And that if Hamilton did anything wrong; it was obviously all their faults and they somehow influenced him into this terrible decision. Chernow glosses over so many times Hamilton ruined other's lives, and throughout it portrays him as this inspiring hero.

Misogyny — you'll notice pretty quickly on; Chernow portrays all the women in the book as pathetic, (Or evil if they ever wronged Hamilton). He does a great injustice to Maria Reynolds, and makes out the affair to be all her and her husband's malicious influence. Because poor Hammy Ham, and not the oppressed woman getting abused by her husband, right? He even has the audacity to frame Elizabeth as a villain throughput a lot of it as well, claiming she wasn't doing her “wifely duties” and drove him to commit the affair (Jesus Christ). It's worse than the portrayal of these women in the musical.

Homophobia — Chernow quite often dismisses the homoerotic undertones throughout Hamilton's life. I'm not saying he has to do an essay on the plausablity of Troup and Hamilton having something more than friendship, but man, you could at least say anything but “lol but they were very no homo”. But the case that pisses me off the most is the complete dismissive attitude towards Laurens's and Hamilton's relationship. Chernow only scaps the surface of their relationship by quoting the April 1779 letter, and then shrugs it off and says that men just had those flowery - platonic apparently - sext letters during those days. Oh, but don't worry, he can dedicate half a chapter in regards to how true the debunked Angelica+Hamilton love affair was.

Inaccuracies — I don't know what I was expecting from a guy who has a very questionable education, but Chernow makes many inaccuracies throughout the book. I can't name them all off the top of my head but; he claims Jefferson said nothing on Hamilton's death when he did, he got Hamilton's children baptism dates wrong, made the same stupid mistake of calling William's portrait as actually Philip's, and misinterpretades many letters. If you want more on the subject, @runawayforthesummer literally has a tag called “Chernow was wrong”. And speaking of villianizing, I urge you to read about Burr outside of Chernow because that is the worst portrayal you'll read him as. Chernow made up this whole betrayal backstory for Burr and Hamilton, when they were actually never friends, or anything beyond acquaintances or political rivals.

Chernow isn't a historian — he's a journalist and a biographer. But biographer doesn't necessarily mean he has taken any studying in regards to being a historian. I'm not staying if you didn't go to college for a four year institution, that you're immediately unqualified to write a biography. But. You should take some initiative to get some education in that matter. Because we have things like this where Chernow makes glaring mistakes.

Phew, okay, that's a rundown of everything I found wrong with it. I'm sure I'm missing other things, but these were the major issues in my opinion. I mean, if you've gotten that far in the book, might as well finish it. Just remember to do your own research, and fact check before you take someone else's claim on something. Once again, Chernow's biography has some good aspects, like how detailed it is. Just remember his major flaws with it too.

#amrev #ron chernow #alexander hamilton #queries #sincerely anonymous

[liaromancewriter]

Hi Lia! I don’t know if you’ve already talked about this, but what is Cassie’s relationship with June? Are they friends, rivals, colleagues? What about Landry? Does Cassie hate him forever? Do they become friends in the future? Did Ethan ever find out what Landry did in intern year?

Hi Nonny. Thanks for the ask. I'll take the characters in order.

June Hirata

Cassie and June always had a good relationship in Lia Land. Cassie truly admired everything June has accomplished at such a young age. June is also incredibly smart and astute, and sometimes that could be intimidating to Cassie. But Cassie also felt that she could learn a lot from June.

However, their approach to patient care is/was very difference, and that sometimes caused friction. June is okay with lying to patients or manipulating them into the decision she wants, but Cassie is not. She wants patients to be fully informed and participative in their care.

Still, they worked well together despite their divergent approaches, and kept in touch after June decided to leave Edenbrook. Years later, June nominated Cassie for the Elizabeth Blackwell Award, and they have worked on research projects. So, they're friendly colleagues and meet up for drinks if they're ever attending the same conference.

I also answered another ask about June before, which is related to the employee file scene from book 2 (which does not happen in Lia Land). Cassie is a big supporter of women in the medical field, and doesn't believe in getting into competition with June, Jackie or anyone just for the sake of doing so. The field is already hard enough for women, why make it more so with rivalries?

Landry Olsen

Cassie doesn't hate Landry, but she does hate what he did and how he allowed the competition to ruin their budding friendship. She tries not to hold on to the anger, but it's hard because he was the first friend she made at Edenbrook. And he was also the only one who understood her fascination with Ethan Ramsey's work and his medical genius.

She decided to let bygones be bygones by the time of the Edenbrook-Mass Kenmore softball game in second year. When they meet at the game, she's pleasant to him and wishes him well. She doesn't want bad karma from anger or to feel like a victim of his actions. She knows what she did and took responsibility for it, even if he doesn't do the same.

They'll never be friends again, but they are professional and cordial to each other when they meet. Still, when Landry is fired from MK after residency due to gross negligence, Cassie can't help but feel that he got what he deserved. The inner celebration lasts for a few seconds, and then she lets it go.

Cassie never told Ethan everything that went down with Landry. She's moved on. Sienna mentioned it once in passing and that's when Ethan dug out the details. He was pissed because putting patients in harm's way for spite is a big 'no' in his book. So, he was not and never will be a fan of Landry (much to Landry's perpetual dismay).

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Character Asks: @bluebelle08 @cariantha @crazy-loca-blog @coffeeheartaddict2 @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

#ask and answered #open heart #june hirata #landry olsen #cassie valentine