I’m your secret cupid, @southernlynxx !!! I’m so sorry this took forever dear; the past few weeks have been totally insane and out of my hands to control. I chose your first wish and decided to mix it up with some good reassurance (happy) angst which i found fitting for the theme;
John trying to understand & accept Arthur’s affection around camp! I hope you enjoy it, happy late Saint Valentine’sday!!!
Hey@pinyapple! I’m your Secret Cupid! Here I am, jumping from the horse into the last wagon of the event train:D I hope that the story is interesting, and you’ll enjoy it! @rdr-secret-cupid
Pairing: John Marston\f!Reader Warnings: fluff\angst&comfort\a hint of smut - 3in1: a little bit of this and that Words: 3434 (picture is not mine \ credits to the author)
Happy Valentine’s Day @redeadepression! I was your secret cupid for this year’s @rdr-secret-cupid. I hope you like the piece I made for you.
After brainstorming for a few days I remembered a quote from Martin Luther King, and I was inspired to do a piece based on that quote, as I thought it really suited John’s final minutes. And sorry for being a bit late.
Do y’all think that Dutch truly cared for Arthur or any of the other gang members? Arthur got TB and not one smidge of concern came from Dutch. No comment, no sad talk. If anything it seems like he pushed Arthur away and then walked away when he was dying. Then in RDR1 he tries to kill John.
I also find it odd that of all the places Dutch could have gone to in RDR1, he basically ended up right down the road from John. May just be me hoping that he cared for his “sons” in some way.
Judith Anderson’s views about ‘pleasure-bored’ flappers
Judith Anderson cuts a characteristically elegant figure in this portrait from the premiere production of George Kelly’s Behold the Bridegroom (Broadway, 1927-8). The Museum of the City of New York has a production photo featuring Judith and two of her co-stars, John Marston and Thurston Hall.
Judith portrayed a spoiled flapper, Antoinette Lyle, whose undoing proves to be the fact that she possesses every material thing and social advantage one could wish for and yet is entirely dissatisfied with life. Antoinette simultaneously has it all and is empty. Marriage risks becoming just another diversion.
In the press, Judith spoke candidly - and sagely - about the poisoned chalice of privilege, particularly in relation to the 1920s social phenomenon of the flapper. She emphasised that she herself had escaped the curse of the ‘society butterfly’ to find fulfillment in her career (which, by now, was tremendously successful). I find Judith’s comments fascinating; they’re not only enlightening in relation to social history but also point to her good sense and acute self-awareness. It’s fortunate, she concludes, that her father lost his fortune. There’s no fate worse than wealth, it seems.
‘The type of girl symbolized by Antoinette Lyle,’ in Behold the Bridegroom, says Judith Anderson, the play’s star, ‘is universal. I use the word in its purest meaning and I ought to know, for in the last year I have traveled far from the United States and back again. And on every continent, in every city and suburb, I meet the Antoinettes or the near Antoinettes. Not that I have ever known one who died either for self hate or for deep love, but I have known many who have reached the stage of utter boredom with life, complete dissatisfaction with themselves, and perfect understanding of the value of the years they have wasted.
[…]
‘The flapper in the United States has her prototype in Australia. Some time ago some one coined a name for the flapper’s big sister. I think it was “zipper”. They, too, exist in both continents. Rich and unrestrained, they dash through a youth full of pleasure only to approach their 30s blase and disillusioned and a trifle shopworn. When I was of the flapper age in Adelaide, my native town in Australia, I was brought up to be a society butterfly. Like the Lyles, we lived in a community considered smart for our part of the world. And many of the first families had daughters and sons who belonged to a fast set. They wanted to show the English visitors that the colonials weren’t dull and slow. Father was at one time a very wealthy man. He was called the “Silver King” of Australia. I was pampered and spoiled by him and his generosity, just as Mr. Lyle spoiled his daughter in the play. Were it not for a quiet, loving mother and her intelligent direction, I myself might have developed as Antoinette did under the limp disciplinary rod her father wielded.
‘I doubt, however, if I were temperamentally inclined towards such a hectic existence as I lead in Behold the Bridegroom. But children of the rich are prone to develop into selfish adults with a rudeness often mistaken for wit. Fortunately, father lost his money, so we picked up our lares and penates and moved out of the wealthy pleasure-bored set to Sydney, where I started on my stage career.’
