#gone dutch au

[transfem-edward]

no longer episoding, have edward

Shes here

[sushisocks]

Hey there! I believe you said in another post that the final confrontation would be unlikely to happen if lenny and sean were alive, so i'd like to ask if you could expand on that pls(if u havent already and i just didnt see it lol)

Btw on a side note im actually super invested in your sean content😭😭the fandom seems to only talk ab him to label as an idiot, so as a fellow sean lover the way you characterize him has me so in love❤️❤️❤️❤️

Oh Anon you are SO LOVELY!!! Thank you not only in giving me the opportunity to rant more about Sean and Lenny (which I am always so willing to do), but also for your super kind words!! Sean is very dear to me, and I'm glad my reading into him as much as I do strikes a chord with other people ;;u;;

The way the general fandom often characterizes him isn't very surprising to me, given his personality & the surface level impressions he gives, but maybe for now I'll save THAT rant for another time, else we stay here forever lmaoo

So, to start answering your question, I believe you're talking about my post from a few months ago, where I talk about how I believe Sean & Lenny would've sided with Arthur & John if they'd lived to see the final confrontation. In it I mention how I find that final confrontation a lot more unlikely were Lenny & Sean to survive that far and stick around for the entire thing.

Now, WHY do I believe this? I touch on it briefly in that original post, but let's really get into it here!!

Okay to start off, there's a LOT of ways I see things going, in regards to Sean and Lenny, were they both to survive, because it adds SO MANY variables, but let's start at the very top.

At a meta level, it is important to recognize that RDR2 is a prequel to RDR1. This meant from the get that RDR2, as it is canonically, was bound to a certain outcome, to set up for RDR1. This ALSO means, that every step from the start of RDR2 was very much there not only to lay the groundwork for the end of RDR2 but also add another emotional layer to RDR1. This is all certainly things we are aware of already, but I think it's important to have that context in mind while we talk about alternative outcomes.

Because, see, Sean and Lenny HAD to die for the outcome in RDR2 to be the one it is. Not only them, but Hosea, Kieran, Molly, and Susan's deaths are ALL integral and important to the story, they ALL make a difference and contribute in pushing the story a certain way, and in reinforcing the steadily increasing hopelessness which infest the gang from Sean's death and out.

So if we're like "what if none of them died?" there are suddenly a LOT of new variables for every mission and every scenario we know from the game, which need to be considered. This is true EVEN if the change in survival count is only reduced to Lenny & Sean.

How different do you not think Shady Belle would have felt, initially, without Sean's death hanging over it? What about the bank job -- would Lenny & Sean end up on the boat to Guarma? What would've happened to them there, then? Would either of them be caught by the Pinkertons instead, with John or in his stead maybe? What other options would there have been, where would they end up at the end of that?

And already here we have to consider how those experiences might've impacted them psychologically, because of who they are.

In the post I mentioned earlier, I talk about how Lenny is new to the gang and probably isn't as stuck in it mentally as Arthur and John, nor do Sean and Lenny have the same emotional attachment/baggage in regards to Dutch. They're loyal of course, because they feel a sense of obligation to the gang, because it provides them with safety, friends, and allies, in an otherwise unkind world.

But what then happens when that changes?

How do you expect Sean and Lenny to respond when the gang starts turning on itself? When Dutch visibly starts losing it? When people start snapping at each other and threatening one another in the middle of camp?

(I have a half-formed thought here about how people would ABSOLUTELY be snapping and talking down to Sean in a way more cruel way towards the end of the game, for trying to keep things light and easy, yknow, fulfilling his role in the gang. I can only imagine what that'd end up doing to him, tbh.)

And, I'll be repeating myself from other posts here, but how do you think Lenny, a young black man painfully aware of the social structure as it exists in America at that point in time, would react to realizing what Dutch's plan with the Wapiti is? Same goes for Sean, who has SEVERAL instances through the game showing him just as politically aware as Lenny - certainly moreso than Arthur.

Would the outcome for the Wapiti tribe be the same, do you think, if Charles had more people than a very sick and tired Arthur to lean on, willing to help? Would Lenny in particular want to stick around to see Dutch attempt to drive the tribe into the ground for his own gain?

Also, I'm sorry but like, Lenny has a camp interaction with Dutch where he disagrees with him (about Miller, Dutch's favorite author) and explains why in a very well-articulated manner. In one instance, Dutch gets straight up offended by it, bcz Lenny can argue very well (and is RIGHT mind you lol).

I do absolutely believe that Lenny would not just sit around quietly in Beaver Hollow. I'd expect him to be among the most vocal in their discontent with the situation, and probably the best at arguing against Dutch.

That is, up until a certain point. Lenny is a young black boy, and Dutch is a white authority figure. Watch Dutch snap and yell at him, like he does John in Ch6 for example, and see how much longer Lenny sticks around fr. The trade is loyalty for safety and the same in kind. Why do you think members start leaving when things start looking their worst? And don't you think Lenny would be among the first to see the writing on the wall?

Though that is hinging on that very specific vibe in Beaver Hollow, where they're all scattered and losing their ties to one another. Add then in Sean, who is VITAL as social glue, and for making conversations easier. If he, and Lenny, and Mary-Beth, Tilly, Arthur, Charles, etc etc, insert your favorites here, managed to retain some of that community feeling, despite it all, then I absolutely see Lenny sticking around for them.

Same goes for Sean, tbh. I can see him leaving earlier, bcz the trade stops being equal and bcz he's not being taken seriously, and I can see him staying, for his friends.

There IS also a version of things where things are similar and I do see Sean siding with Dutch; but that is a very sad and lonely Sean, who is VERY different from where he's at in Clemens Point, and I think that's an unfair perspective to take for him in general.

Okay so, now we're back to that final confrontation, after I said I found it unlikely, why is that? Because, with every question I've posed thus far, about what Lenny & Sean's reactions might've been to canon events after their deaths, I have essentially presented a variable that comes with their survival to those points. Them being there for it, HAS to mean a change, has to mean something different happens, because their deaths are direct contributors to the path we already know the story takes WITHOUT their presences.

Now, what are those differences and changes? I honestly can't answer; something being different earlier or later can butterfly-effect into something completely new or remarkably similar to what we already know. I could sit here all day and wax poetic about all the different options and possibilities for where things could go, were ANY character to survive past their death point, BUT thankfully, that is what fanfiction is for, lol.

I hope this satisfied some of your curiosity, dear anon!! It was a lot of fun for me to write and think about, so thank you very much for asking!!!

[bunny-jpeg]

me & my man

max verstappen (mv33)

tags: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!reader, collars & leashes, dom/sub, semi-public sex, couch sex, dirty talk, french speaker!reader, dom!reader, sub!max, max is a good boy

"isn't he so cute?" you chuckled you wound the leash in your hand which forced max to get closer to you. you giggled and leaned in to him. when he was close enough, you kissed him on the face, "the most beautiful boy in all of monaco."

he melted into your sweet kisses and glowed at your praise. he looked like a sunflower, facing the direction of your warmth to keep him in bloom. it didn't hurt that you were one of the most powerful women in all of europe.

"how are you feeling, my dear?" you combed your fingers through his short blond hair. you spoke to him in french.

and he replied in the same tongue with a smile, "i am perfect."

max was the perfect boyfriend. he loved you deeply in ways you never thought possible. you spent your entire life feeling as if you were an outsider. you were the only child to a mafia family and raised since birth to be your father's successor. but as a woman you had to be a certain level of cold to make it to the top.

a feeling that led you to the assumption that you'd be alone forever. all that in the world couldn't make someone love you. but max was different. you met at a party, or rather you were stomping outside of your home to complain about 'annoying assholes" revving their engines while you were were hosting a get together with friends.

before you could've told them off, you were face to face with max verstappen. when he said, "i'm sorry, we'll get these cars out of here. sorry to bother you." you knew you were far gone. and the rest was history.

your live-in boyfriend was happy to have a lover who took control. it was hard not to lover him. you were nervous to allow yourself to be vulnerable, but max slowly eased into a relationship with you through his warmth and tenderness. for a so-called lion, he was beyond gentle with you.

"your scars don't scare me, my treasure. they are a part of you, just as i am a part of you." his smile made your heart swell as you looked away with embarrassment. he had a habit of making you so flustered.

but tender love gave room for a sexual explosion. once you got your hands on one another, there was no stopping you two. his larger hands felt right on your hips and your smaller hands on his shoulders.

max was happy to be part of your little world and while he was still a street racer through the streets of monaco. he always came home to you.

his everything.

"isn't he just a dream." you giggled as you sat on the couch in a private room with a few of your friends. they smiles over the rims of their drink glasses and max went total pink when your friends felt his strong body.

"where did you find him anyway?" one friend asked in french.

"yeah, where can i get one?" another giggled.

you looked at him and cupped his strong jaw. you smiled at him and he returned him. you replied with your eyes still on him, "he's dutch, well, belgian and dutch." you looked to your friends, "he's my little lion. but, if you want to try your luck. he has friends, just follow the sound of annoying engines in the streets of the city."

max's breathing hitched for a moment and you kissed him on the cheek. he looked good in the collar you bought for him. while there was a sexual aspect to it, he would only wear it in the privacy of vip. you scratched the side of his head and smiled at him.

"you're my good boy, right, max?"

he leaned in and touched you so delicately, "of course, but only for you."

you turned to your friends and said, "he's a street racing. i don't think any of the others are as good as my max. but, maybe you'll find a cute guy to take for a spin." and laughed when max pulled you towards him.

after a few more drinks, your friends bid their farewells but you remained with max. the night was still young and when the door closed behind them. max's hand was under your button-up. he was touching your collarbone and you smiled at him as your pulse picked up.

"Are you too drunk, my lion?" you asked as you cupped his face. you then ended up laid out on the red leather of the couch. you smiled up at him.

you had privacy, but that didn't matter even if someone walked in. your family owned the club. so you let your lover's hands wander. you moaned, "my handsome, lion." he undid every button of your blouse. his hands were on your soft skin and you loved it.

especially when he touched your breasts. he licked his lips and felt heat in his soul. the stutter in your heartbeat made you shift a little and the shift was taken off of you. it found home on the floor where you skirt soon landed as well. he kissed across your shoulder and down your arm.

he laid kisses until he reached your fingers, when he kissed you over the gold band on your left ring finger. it was simple,but in a life of such riches and power. you yearned for simple.

"i love you." you said as you pulled him in for a heated kiss. you felt heat in your core as he moved against you, his cock heavy in his jeans.

"you've given me the world, it's only fair i do the same for you." then groaned when you yanked on the leash. you pulled him in once more and he said close to your lips, "i love you too."

most would be scared by you holding so much power in the city or even try to take it from you. but not max, never max. despite the difficult lifestyle, you gave him stability. a home. there was a lot you didn't know about his past, especially his family life. but you knew enough that it made you want to make sure he never went through that again. to new hurt that way.

you both ended up naked with the thump of the club outside the room. the leash was taken off, but the collar remained. the deep grey colour looked good against his pale skin. he looked amazing, nude save for the collar. a mark of possessiveness around his throat.

you touched the expensive leather, an import from across the border. "you wear me so well." you said in french with a laugh, the tag of the colour had your family's emblem on it. the same one on all the shipments across monaco, france, italy and beyond.

he took you by the hips, knelt on the couch and he kept on hand on your hip and the other on his cock as he slipped his length into you. you had to admit, street racing meant having a big cock and max meant it literally. you still struggled to take him at times.

he had the ability to make the boss soft all over. the scary woman of monaco was weak in the knees for him. that was quite the feat for a man who left his home country with nothing but a car.

you were thankful, he was your lover. your everything. he held onto your hip and the back of the couch for leverage as he started to move against you. his face was so pink, he smelled like cologne. the same one you bought him for his birthday.

he smelled rich and you pulled him a little closer. you two kissed deeply as you moved against one another in a heated position. when he broke the kiss, the admired you with an intense love as he hiked up your hips a little more to get all of the best angles he could get.

heaven was between your legs and he was a devoted worshiper.

he moved against you with a heat in his soul. he felt a sense of heaven with you. it was the only thing he could call it. heaven. the furthest thing from the hell of his youth. he was free when he was with you.

"mine, all mine." you saif as you placed a kiss on his nose as he continued to fuck you with a heavy want. he needed you, yearned for you in ways that drove him mad.

that was why he wore his family's symbol around his thick neck. why the tag dangled with each of his thrusts. and aside from the collar, he had your family's anime, the hawk, tattooed on him. it was woven in with the other tattoos he had along his left arm. bits of his history inked onto his skin. your hands dug into his shoulders as he continued to move faster. his pulse quickened as your red painted nails dug into his skin. it only encouraged him to pick up the pace.

"my lion. big and strong. but yet i've got all the control." you giggled as he moved. fucking you against the couch in the club you were set to inherent.

"you didn't capture me. it's not capture if i came willing." he smiled at you, "you didn't trap me. i came willingly. i'll always come willing to you, my love." he pressed a kiss against your heated skin.

the drinks in your system only amplified the feeling. max's hands on you felt amazing. you knew what he was capable of. he had killed for you before. but as he touched you, his grasp was loving and warm. he was tender in a way that made pleasure ooze in your soul. you felt heaven, you felt joy. the euphoria of your love making against you. you loved him more than anything. he was your shining sun, a brightness that was only amplified by his love.

"you're my everything." you moaned, "my heart, fuck, i only want you. please, max. no other man in the world could compare to you." you then took him by the collar and pulled him into a searing kiss.

he moaned against your tugs. he was left hungry. he was near famished as he moved against you. the blood rush made his chest tug with want.

you let go and laid back onto the couch as he continued to move against you. your breathing was heavy by how heavy his movements were. how tender he could be with each thrust. the air in the room was hot and your noises were drowned out by the thumping of club music outside.

your tensed up as pleasure gained momentum in your heated core. swears poured from your lips as the euphoria only got more intense. max knew how to make you feel good. you felt the tug of pleasure from the flow between you two. it was a certain addiction that you had and you got your fix right from the source.

max's kisses trailed up your neck as his thrusts became harder. you moved up and down the couch as he fucked you. he groaned praises against your skin.

promises of forever, of his devotion to you. his never ending love. he couldn't be half the man he was without you. you gave him everything.

"you drive me crazy." he groaned.

"not as much as you do. after our first meeting, i knew i had to see you again. to love you. i knew that from the moment i met you. that we'd be together for a long while." you felt the surge of want in your chest as he continued to move against you.

"i fucking love you." he groaned.

"and i will love you all my days." you replied in french. max's pace faltered and you felt the tightness of climax. you tensed up as he continued to move against you. you reached for him once more as you came with your hands dug into his shoulders. you felt the burst of pleasure course through you, it was in your blood like fireworks.

you cursed loudly as your lover fucked you with a heavy want. he needed you deeply. you dug your nails tighter into his tattooed shoulders and he went in for another searing kiss. he groaned, muffled against your lips.

a few more strokes and max finished inside of you. he pulled away and swore under his breath. when he spoke dutch in such a tense tone you couldn't help but feel the sparks in your gut.

"my lion." you exhaled deeply.

"my everything." he pulled out and rested his cock up against your stomach, "i think it's time to head home or else i'm not going to stop until the club closes and the sun rises.." he pushed back his sweaty hair and exhaled deeply, "and i'd rather fuck you on our bed."

you got your arms around him and pressed your forehead against his. between pants, you said, "yeah, i think it's time to head home."

-

the sun cast down as you sat on the couch on the boat. you had max's head rested up against your thigh while you read your book.

it was a sunny day out on the water. max's eyes were closed and he looked at peace. you looked away from your book and towards him. long eye lashes, his normally stern features looked soft. he looked like an angel, even with the curl of ink peeking out of his shirt.

"my lion." you asked, "are you asleep."

he opened one eye and looked at you, "mmm, i am awake, my love." then closed his eye against. he exhales deeply, "why don't you read to me?"

"i'm halfway through the book." you laughed.

"don't care." he shifted against you, "i want to hear your voice." you chuckled lowly and turned the page. you gave him one last book before you started to read to him.

"and so, the lion and the hawk fell in love..." <3

[professional-court-jester]

i haven’t seen anyone talking about this but in the book of bill, bill left an 8-track of eurythmics’ sweet dreams along with that vhs of him going on a crazy night spree in ford’s body, but that song came out in may 1983 and the absolute latest possible date that ford could’ve gone into the portal seems to be mostly agreed by the fandom to be january 1983

this leaves us no other option as theorists but to conclude that bill cipher got a preview track sent to him specifically by the hit band eurythmics months before its public release

also it’s really funny to consider that he was tormenting ford with a brand new top 40s hit. it’s like if these events took place 40 years later and he used a sabrina carpenter song as the soundtrack of his evil

2024 au ford opens his tiktok drafts to see what bill did in his body and the sound bill chose for the horrific montage is von dutch by charli xcx

[ultr4vjolence]

@ULTR4VJOLENCE MISC RECS 2.0 .ᐟ

𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ CHO HYUN-JU

ᥫ᭡ dreams and lights (mean nothing if i can't have you)

how did it get to this? blood coated on your skin and murder seeping from each wall, echoes of bullets in your ears and the warmth of a hand in yours; enveloping, all-encompassing, larger and softer than any other that’s held you. and blood. so, so much blood. how did you get here?

the cheerful buzzing of the circle is louder than life itself. hyun-ju’s hand is coated in the phosphorescence of it, miles apart with eyes that pierce right through you. the blue reflections on her cheek make bile rise in your throat; red illuminates your face when your number is called, and red coats your eyes when she dares meet them.

ᥫ᭡ unforgettable

you can’t wait any longer for her to come around, knowing either of you could be gone in an instant. luckily for you, she feels the same way.

ᥫ᭡ version of me

it takes one miracle for her life to change. whether or not it's too good to be true or rather, if she's dreaming or not, she'll leave it for another day.

ᥫ᭡ you are all i long for, all i worship and adore

it’s as if the world has quieted around you, the edges blurring until it’s only her and the way she’s looking at you—soft but searching, vulnerable but steady.

it feels like a path is unfolding before you, one that you can’t resist. it’s as if the universe itself is nudging you forward, whispering ‘this is it, this is the moment.’ there’s a weight to it, a certainty that nothing will ever be the same after this.

her fingers slide between yours, hesitant at first, but then firmer, like she’s testing the waters and daring to hope. Her breath quickens and she’s glancing at your lips, too.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ EDDIE MUNSON

ᥫ᭡ ruined expectations

when marriage season begins, you've just returned home from a grand graduation from finishing school. expectations are high, a marriage and an heir must be produced as soon as possible, and an old friend doesn't seem interested in being a friend any longer. being the good, obedient daughter that you are expected to be, you do what is asked of you and definitely do not get distracted by that old friend. certainly not. your childhood friend turned rake who only greets you with disrespect, disgust, and disinterest?

nope. eddie munson is not a distraction. at all.

* an angsty regency era au rake!eddie munson x virgin!fem!reader slow-burn.

ᥫ᭡ boundary testing

you and eddie are just exceptionally good friends who keep redefining the boundary of said friendship. so long as you both agree that what you’re doing is in the confines of said friendship boundary, then it’s just…that. you’re just friends. just really, really good friends. really good friends who sometimes kiss a little (a lot). and at your friend’s christmas party, things take a unique turn. for better or for worse, you don’t know yet.

ᥫ᭡ through a glass darkly

eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. he wondered which flavor of weird she was. art weird? theater weird? band weird?

weird weird?

he shrugged. he liked weird.

in other words, you’re the new girl in town, and eddie is intrigued.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ARTHUR MORGAN

ᥫ᭡ the old therebefore (when nothing is left anymore)

fourteen years ago, dutch van der linde saved your brother’s life and offered you a home amongst outlaws and thieves. since then, you’ve been robbing and fighting your way across the nation, all while caring for your reckless brother, john marston, and trying to force down feelings for your partner-in-crime, arthur morgan. but after a failed robbery in blackwater forces the entire gang to flee, all hopes of freedom on the great frontier are lost. danger descends from all sides, forcing you to confront the uncertain future and the regrets of your past.

or, a complete retelling of red dead redemption II from start to finish…

ᥫ᭡ a new beginning

determined to hunt down your father’s murderer and bring him to justice, you refuse to be deterred when your venture takes you to the dangerous backwoods of roanoke ridge and you run into the last man you had ever wanted to see again. or maybe deep, deep down you had. a turbulent and treacherous journey awaits, where battles will be fought not only against man and nature but within your heart as well as the long but unescapable road towards forgiveness begins.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ CHALLENGERS TRIO

ᥫ᭡ runner-up

this is the story of how you and tashi duncan become best friends in college. or more so, the story of how she had chosen you to be her best friend. if only you knew then what a dangerous thing that was—to be chosen by someone like tashi.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ FEZCO O’NEILL

ᥫ᭡ baby, can you see through the tears?

he’d walked into the room looking like a dream. your eyes burned the first time you saw him. you told him this later and he blushed and laughed, but it was true. it’s hard not to cry right now, watching as he’s escorted into the visitor hall where you’re sitting at a tiny square table. a guard brings fez towards you, and he’s like a vision haloed by white buzzing fluorescent lights.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ KAZ BREKKER

ᥫ᭡ it’s nice to have a friend

one of these days, you’ll realize how hungry you are for the scraps he throws you and that it’s not a good look that you’d rather salivate for him than devour the feast anyone else could give you. but today is not that day. you’re both fourteen, you’ve only just run away from home, you’re still trying to carve out a place in this world, his world.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ SILCO

ᥫ᭡ drink with me

the lanes never sleep. the sunken streets may lie beneath piltover’s heavy shadow, and it's faults are numerous and deadly, but no one can claim that the Undercity is boring. there is always colour to be found, if you know where to look. it’s something you pride yourself on – the ability to see what others can’t. some mistake it for simple optimism. but you know it’s more than just that. it’s the thing that’s kept you alive this long, in more ways than one. you’ve always been happy to go wherever life has taken you, and you’re a big believer in gut instinct.

but you never expected to end up working as a bartender at the last drop – having been scouted by a blue haired girl who wouldn’t take no for an answer. neither did you expect to find yourself landed with the terrifying task of ensuring silco’s personal drinks cart is kept well stocked. and you certainly never expected to find yourself inadvertently become the weekly drinking partner of the eye of zaun himself.

ᥫ᭡ bend but not break

silco is a wealthy industrialist who makes a deal with piltover to open trade with zaun, in which his own diplomatic dealings are just to gain more power and undermine piltover. he purchases an old mansion in the wealthiest part of of piltover in hopes of raising his ward to give her a better life than he had, including looking for a wife to blend in with his new surroundings, a masquerade game of lies. he never anticipates you, his new governess, hired by sevika for his young ward, jinx.

a young woman in house that has more questions than answers. a strange and hidden creature lurks in the attic. a man, that should be fighting for zaun as he once did, is now mingling with his sworn enemies and this close to buying a seat on the council. a man, who is an enigma, raising a girl who isn’t his and you finding him more and more intoxicating as you fall into his world of shady politics.

jane eyre AU.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

ᥫ᭡ glimmer in the void

you’re part of a crew on a deep space exploration ship traveling beyond the solar system. when the ship is attacked and crashes on a nearby planet, you find yourself stranded with an unexpected and intriguing creature.

ᥫ᭡ blood catalase

you’re a crime scene cleaner who happens across an advertisement for a mansion housekeeper in exchange for room and board. it’s close to work, close to your university, and an easy job. the ultimate package. right away, you notice the owner’s beauty as well as his eccentricities, but decide to commit to it. the spiral into depravity and debauchery begins when you’re tasked with cleaning the site of a savage murder, solidifying you as a irreplaceable treasure.

ᥫ᭡ opaque

in this world, androids outnumber humans, privacy does not exist, and your public profile determines whether you sink or swim in society. following the dissolution of your job and glamorizing your resume, you’re invited to interview with the prestigious hyperion—the world’s foremost in AI and robotics—for a position to test the newest android model. after a surprising turn of events, you’re introduced to elio, the first of the generation seven androids and the catalyst of your awakening.

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𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ JAKE SULLY

ᥫ᭡ fantasize

it’s official – jake is sick and tired of norm giving him shit. while he can’t claim to know as much about pandora as norm does, there’s still a few things jake can afford to do to piss him off even more for the fun of it, and it just so happens that norm’s sister works as a scientist in the human compound – which to jake spells perfect revenge in its simplest form.

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A C C E S S G R A N T E D. . .

ultr4vjolence © 2025 .ᐟ

[thebookbutterfly]

°•. Arthur Morgan .•°

Fan fiction recommendations from BB’s Bookshelf. All my favourite Arthur Morgan works in one place.

⭐️ = One of my favourites.

ONESHOTS:

🦋 Goodnight and Goodmorning [Fluff] A tired, weary Arthur crawls into your bed late at night after he returns to camp. << Female Reader, Canon Typical Injuries, High Honour >> ⭐️

🦋 Touchy: Part 1, Part 2 [Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, A Smidge of Angst] Arthur is touch starved, you're the most affectionate person he knows. So why don't you touch him? << Female Reader, Mention of Abuse, High Honour >> ⭐️

🦋 Rainy Days [Fluff] It's pouring and you're soaked to the skin. Arthur invites you in and warms you up. Sharing body heat. << Female Reader, High Honour >>

🦋 Winter Cowboy [Fluff] Arthur returns cold and shaking from his ride with Dutch. You're happy to provide some warmth for your favourite cowboy. << Female Reader >>

🦋 A One Time Thing [Fluff] Your new horse throws you off, right into a damn river. Luckily, Arthur is by your side to warm you up. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Logs and Campfires [Fluff] You fall asleep next to Arthur, who's the last one remaining at the campfire after everybody else has gone to sleep. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Graphite and Gratitude [Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Minor Angst] After Micah crosses a line, Arthur comforts you in an unexpected way - by sharing his journal with you. << Female Reader, Micah is an ass, Slightly sexual mentions >>

🦋 Dancing and Daisies [Fluff] Arthur and the gang celebrate your birthday with you. << Female Reader, High Honour >>

🦋 Safety In A Storm [Fluff] Modern AU, in which there is only one bed. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

🦋 Cold [Fluff] On your escape through the snowstorm after the Blackwater Massacre, Arthur and you are looking for a place to get some sleep. << Female Reader >> ⭐️

🦋 The Caretaker [Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Slight Angst] You join the gang shortly before the Blackwater massacre and quickly find comfort in the gang's enforcer, Arthur Morgan. Even you seem to catch his eye, as he starts to flatter you with little gifts. When he flees from the O'Driscolls, you have the honour of taking care of him. << Female Reader, Canon Typical Injuries >>

🦋 The Rescue [Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst] You go missing in the mountains when you were scouting ahead with John. Luckily, Arthur finds you. The near death experience gives both of you the courage for a confession. << Female Reader, High Honour >>

🦋 Drunk Kisses [Fluff] A drunk reader gives Arthur Morgan a kiss. << Female Reader, High Honour >>

🦋 A Quick Sketch [Fluff] You catch Arthur trying to draw you. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

🦋 Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You [Fluff] Arthur realises he’s in love with you. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

🦋 Sharing Cigarettes [Fluff] You and Arthur share a cigarette by the lake. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

DRABBLES:

🦋 Jus' A Little Longer [Fluff] Arthur claims that he doesn't need hugs. You're hellbent on proving him wrong. << Female Reader >>

🦋 Treat [Fluff] Arthur gifts you some chocolate. Valentines Day Special! << Gender Neutral Reader, High Honour >>

🦋 Those Lovely Words [Fluff?] Arthur isn't the only one who sweet-talks his horse. AKA you call your horse a "good boy" and Arthur wants to combust. << Female Reader, Suggestive >>

🦋 The Stars Aren't As Pretty As You [Fluff] A short, sweet night under the stars. << Gender Neutral Reader >>

🦋 RDR2 Men As Girl Dads [Fluff] Featuring. Arthur, Charles, John, Dutch & Hosea << Gender Neutral Reader >>

[insomniakisses]

alphas beth and viv with pup reader when she joins arsenal hcs pls?

-🩷

Moon, Mama and Pa

Warnings/Notes: Changed it from HCs to a little Hc / Drabble about living with them for Moon & Sunshine day. Omegaverse au, Alpha Beth x pup!reader, omega viv x pup!reader, Found family, pup!reader / child!reader

Moving in with Beth and Viv, had seamed daunting. Terrifying even. At least until you actually got there. The house was homely and welcoming just like its occupants. They showed you to the spare room the second they’d brought you back from that hell hole you called an apartment.

Beth had started dinner when you all got in, stating judging by the state of your fridge you needed proper food. Viv took you on a mini tour, stating that the spare room was yours now for as long as you wanted it and that you could all look for some decorations to make it more homely.

You were overwhelmed, truthfully, you never expected to be shown such kindness from strangers. Sure, they were your teammates but that didn’t mean that they were necessarily required to help.

Sure enough, by the end of the week you had gone shopping and picked out a few things with Viv. She was someone you found yourself gravitating to. She felt the same about you. It was strange, Beth was usually the friendlier on, always making friends and drawing people in. And you did like Beth. It was hard not to, but with Viv it was different. The immediate sense of family you had with her was unmatched.

You had found a home with them, with the whole team really but Beth and Viv took on the  most motherly roles with you.

Waking you up before training with food and forehead kisses, driving you to the training grounds, always carrying your favourite snacks and always so aware of how you were feeling.

It started as a little inside joke with you and the 3 that Viv was like a dad, she really did act like one even down to the dad jokes and mannerisms. But then the longer you stayed with them the more she felt like an actual parent.

The teasing “Alright dad” followed by a playful eye roll was soon replaced with a soft “okay, Pa” and a kiss to her cheek as you scurried of to do who knows what with Kyra.

The term was the Dutch word for “dad” and it had her routed to the spot mouth open slightly, Beth cooed beside her girlfriend giving her a soft shoulder squeeze when Viv’s eyes watered. Her soft murmurs of “pup….my pup… My pup..” making Beth melt.

The next time Viv saw you was at home, you having gotten a lift from Steph, and the second you entered the lounge you were pulled into a bone crushing hug from your Pa.

You couldn’t help but giggle, trying to wiggle free to no avail and you might have escaped if you hadn’t let a yell of “Mama help me!” escape followed by reaching for Beth.

Because now you had another set of strong arms encasing you as you were pulled to the couch. Forced to sit between a Mama and Pa sandwich getting face kisses and your head nuzzled.

A parental scenting ritual that relaxed you immediately soft pup purrs escaping as you grew tired, barely registering Beth tell you to sleep and that Mama and Pa would be there when you awoke.

After that the nicknames became common place, you were home with your parents, and you’d never felt happier and safer. And OFC they bragged that they got nicknames first.

[talkdutchtome]

You Should Have Said No Chapter Two - It's Nice to Have a Friend

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / pierre gasly x reader )

summary . . . when your fiancé cheats on you, you strike up an unusual friendship with one of his closest friends, who just so happens to have had a crush on you since he set eyes on you. chaos ensues.

inspired by the works of miss taylor swift )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . it's nice to have a friend- taylor swift)

warning . . . cheating, mental illness, angst, eventual smut, poorly translated french and dutch, swearing, mention of parent loss, emotionally abusive parent, slight social media au, kendall jenner as fc (potentially more i’ll add as i go along)

series masterlist . . . available here )

A banging came from the front door, jolting you awake and making you fall off the sofa in the process. When Pierre left you decided the best thing to do was sleep, not wanting to be awake and deal with the crushing pain, but after 30 minutes of writhing around in bed, the scent of Pierre lingering on the sheets, you realised that sleeping in the bed you shared with your fiancé was going to be impossible, so you resorted to the sofa.  

The banging started again, worried it was Pierre coming back, you ignored it. “Y/N let me in, Y/N” You heard a voice call, a voice that didn’t belong to Pierre. It was Max’s voice. You stood up and began walking to the door, you stopped at a mirror in the hallway looking at your reflection. Your hair was messy, your face red and blotchy, your eyes swollen from crying, black mascara tears stained on your cheeks. You thought about tiding yourself up a bit, not wanting to look too pathetic when you open the door; but you quickly realised that it was a lost cause and continued walking to the door. 

“Y/N, hi” Max spoke as the door swung open, looking at you with soft eyes. He wanted to reach up to you and pull you into a bear hug, lord knows it looked like you needed it. But he decided not to, worried that it would make you uncomfortable. 

“Um hi Max, what are you doing here?” You asked, genuinely confused why he was stood at your door, he told you because you deserved to know but he was Pierre’s friend, his former teammate. 

“I wanted to-“ he started and then paused “Can I come in?”  

You opened the door wider and step to the side allowing him to enter, silently answering his question. 

“How did you know where w- where I live?” You asked puzzled, Max and Pierre hadn’t been as close as they once were over the past few years so he hasn’t been to your apartment before.  

“I phoned Charles, I was worried about you when you hung up the phone and I thought, well I thought if I were in your position, I wouldn’t want to be alone” he spoke, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.  

“When you spoke to Charles did you tell him?” You asked. 

“No, I didn’t, but he already knew, I guess, he asked me to give you a hug from him.” You smiled at the Dutchman’s words, Charles is Pierre’s best friend so even though that’s who Pierre would have gone to straight away, looking for support, Charles still had you in his thoughts, truly caring for you. The silence sat in the room and made its presence ever clear, this being only one of a few if any conversations just between the two of you, aside of course from the conversation you had with him earlier in the day, the one that caused your world to come crashing down. Feeling nervous, you began to play with the ring sat on your left hand, you didn’t even clock the significance until you saw Max looking down at the ring. The ring Pierre gave you months ago when he asked you to marry him, when he told you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You thought about taking the ring off, you know you should. You definitely aren’t engaged anymore, but for some reason you can’t, not wanting to let go of that part of your life yet.  

You looked up to find Max watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Have you eaten today?” He asks you and that takes you by surprise, you weren’t sure what he was going to say to you after watching you so intently but that certainly wasn’t it.  

“No, I uh no I haven’t” he stood up and began walking to the kitchen, “May I?” He asks gesturing towards the oven. Was he asking if he could cook for you? You nodded slowly, still unsure what he was doing here. He began after seeing your confirmation, starting with cleaning up the mess from the breakfast you had started to make this morning. For a second you want to ask him to stop, not to clean up and get rid of the last thing you did before your life changed forever. You don’t though, realising you can’t keep burnt bacon as a souvenir from a better time. Snapping out from your thoughts you see Max begin making a pasta dish, for a second you catch yourself smiling, this man had absolutely no loyalties to you, he didn’t have betray Pierre and tell you what happened, but he did. He didn’t have to come and check up on you, but he did. He certainly didn’t have to look after you and make sure you eat, but that’s what he was doing.  

“You go and sit down; I’ll bring this through when I’m done”. 

You smiled again before following his instructions. 

He walked into the room 15 minutes later, carrying a delicious smelling plate of food in. “Here” he passes it to you, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he did so. “Thank you” you said smiling at him before beginning to eat. He sat with you in silence again, but this time the awkwardness wasn’t there, instead it was comfortable. Max knew that you probably weren’t in the mood for talking, but he also knew you probably didn’t want to be alone either, so he was more than happy to sit with you in silent company.  

You sat next to each other on the sofa for a while longer, almost exclusively in silence, until Max noticed you started to yawn. “I should leave then, I hope you’re okay, please phone me if you need me, I’ll make sure to keep my phone on loud.” He said to you and again you were taken aback by the care shown by a man who owed nothing to you. You thanked him and assured him you would let him know if you needed him. He nodded and began walking to the door. You hesitated before speaking “Max wait.” He turned back around and was about to ask what was wrong but before he could get the words out of his mouth you were in his arms hugging him, he hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around you tight, pulling you closer into him.  

Pulling back, you looked up at him before you spoke “For Charles.” He smiled, looking in your sad eyes staring up at him. “Yeah, for Charles” 

When he left, the same silence that had felt comfortable in just 5 minutes ago became heavy. Without Max here to distract you from the devastation, the crushing feeling became more apparent. You thought about looking at your phone, maybe even texting Max a quick thank you, but you quickly realised that on your phone you would find dozens of messages from Pierre. Quickly changing your mind, you went straight to the sofa to sleep, not even bothering to attempt to use the bed. 

The ringing of your alarm woke you up at 10am the next morning, an unwelcome wake up call considering the disturbed sleep you had from sleeping on the sofa. The first thing you did was walk into your bedroom and strip the bed, putting the old bedding in the washing and putting a brand-new set of sheets on. Happy with yourself for coming up with a solution for that problem, you got to work on completing other tasks that needed to be done; you showered, and you tidied up the house. Then finally after feeling as refreshed as you possibly could, you moved on to the one task you truly did not want to do. Letting out a shaky breath you reached for your phone, it had sat unmoved from the kitchen table, where it was when one 5-minute conversation with Max Verstappen changed her whole life. 

 Opening it up, messages from four people filled her screen: Pierre, Max, Charles and Rebecca from work. The last name made you curse, it reminded you of the one thing you did not want to be reminded of, the flight to Spain you were scheduled to take with your fiancé in time for the Spanish GP. When Pierre asked you to quit your job as a photographer to follow him around the world all those years ago, you said no, not wanting your entire life to be boiled down to who you were in a relationship with. But when he asked and asked, when he told you how crazy he was going being away from you for weeks on end, you said yes. He got you a job with Formula 1 and you loved it. You loved the work you did, and you loved getting to travel the world with the love of your life, or at least you used to.  

Frowning, you moved on to the other text messages, starting with Charles. 

Charles Leclerc 

Y/N Pierre has just turned up here in a state, he won’t talk. What’s happened? 

Okay so he told me what happened, I cannot believe he did that. Please message me as soon as you get this, I need to know that you’re okay. 

Y/N, just so you know, Max called asking for your address, I’m not sure why but expect him at your door soon  

You smiled to yourself at the love and concern Charles had for you. You wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t reach out, if he put his entire focus on his best friend. You quickly typed a reply.  

Y/N Y/LN 

Hey Charles, sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I am okay, just. I really don’t want to talk about it right now though. 

Turning to the next set of messages, you noticed they were from Pierre. 

Mon amour 

Cheri, please let me come home, let’s talk about this. 

Please Y/N I’m so sorry. 

I love you Cheri, you have to know that. 

What is happening with our plans today, when can I come round to get my stuff, are you still coming? I need to know the flights in a few hours. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, mostly because you didn’t know the answer to his question. Moving on you saw the next messages were from Max. 

Max Verstappen 

Hey Y/N, I’m sorry for having to tell you that, but you needed to know. I hope you’re okay.  

Good morning Y/N, I hope you’re doing okay today. Just a reminder that I’m always here. 

You smiled at the messages, once again the care this man showed for you..  

Y/N Y/LN 

Hi Max, thank you for yesterday. I’ve been better but yeah, I’m okay thank you. 

Max Verstappen 

I’m glad to hear it. Is there anything I can do for you today?  

Y/N Y/LN 

No I don’t think so thank you. Today will be spent trying to find a new way to get to Spain ready for the shoot tomorrow haha. 

Max Verstappen 

I have space on my jet?  

Y/N Y/LN 

Thank you but you really don’t need to do that. I’ll find a way; worst case I guess I’ll just catch the flight with Pierre. 

Max Verstappen 

No don’t be silly, you’re coming. I have a space and you need a way to get there.  

I’ll be there in 45 minutes, be ready.  

Your breath hitched at those last messages, you thought about standing your ground and telling him no, but he was right. You need to get there and the last thing you want is to sit on a plane with Pierre. Quickly firing off a message to Pierre to let him know you’ll be making your own way there and that he can come over in an hour to collect his stuff as that’s when you’ll be gone. You began to gather your stuff and prepare to leave.  

 The time passed quickly and eventually you received another text message from Max letting you know he had arrived. You felt nerves swirl around your stomach as you walked downstairs and approached the car. Opening the door, you saw that Max was sat in the driver's seat, the passenger seat was empty and in the back of the car sat Daniel Ricciardo and Lando Norris.  

“Hey Y/N, I saved you a seat. Have you got everything you need?” He asked smiling warmly at you tapping the seat next to him. You could feel pity in the eyes of Daniel and Lando, you knew Lando knew as he was there when it happened, but somebody had clearly told Daniel too.  

“Yeah, I do, thank you very much for this, I really appreciate it.” you replied climbing into the very fancy sports car. 

“Oh, please you’re doing me a favour, I didn’t particularly want to spend an hour in a confined space with those two back there.” he joked, clearly sensing your nervousness and wanting to help you feel at ease.  

“Ignore him Y/N, he loves us really” you heard an Australian voice joke come from behind us. You never had much to do with Daniel; but you knew his reputation for being the most likeable guy on the grid and after just a car ride with him you had to agree.   

Boarding Max’s jet felt like something out of movie, you had never experienced anything like this before, usually just flying business class with Pierre. Lando and Daniel sat next to each other, sharing a knowing glance with each other when they left you to sit next to Max, but you didn’t notice, too transfixed with looking at your surroundings. You sat next to Max, opposite the two other men on the plane and the conversation started flowing. It surprised you, how easily the conversation came between you and the three men, with you not spending much time with them at all before this. Eventually Lando and Daniel were asleep, you felt yourself not too far behind. Just as you were drifting asleep, you heard Max’s nervous voice begin speaking. 

“Y/N, I hope you don’t think I'm being too forward here by the way; I just have been in your situation, and I know most of your friends around here are Pierre’s friends too.. And I guess I just didn’t want you to be alone.” 

His words made your heart flutter, a feeling that took you by surprise, but you didn’t think much of it. 

“No Max, I don’t. Honestly, It’s Nice to Have A Friend.” You replied before closing your eyes and starting to sleep. Max didn’t say anything else after that, he just leant over and very gently kissed the top of your head.  

Taglist-

@hiraethrhapsody @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @aundercover @dearlovelys 

[meazalykov]

the blip:

salma paralluelo x reader (requested)

the request: "I have seen that you have written for marvel in the past I love marvel and woso too 🥲 Can I request a AU where reader plays for barcelona but is snapped for five years before coming back like Marvel?? She was dating either cata salma patri esmee or jana (You can pick) who wasn't snapped and her girlfriend moved on during those five years?? IDK just angst and sadness 😣 Hopefully this makes sense."

took me more than a week to write this, I am sorry to whoever requested. I hope you still like what I've came up with!!!

part one (part two here)

warnings: angst, sadness

Along the vibrant green pitch, Barcelona Femení was in the midst of a crucial match against Madrid CFF. Among the players sprinting across the field was Y/n, the fast defender who barely let anyone score past her foot. 

Y/n was fully concentrated as Bruna passed the back to her. Seeing a Madrid striker coming her way, the girl passed the ball back to Cata who launched the ball over the pitch to Mariona. Y/n jogged up the field to prepare for a potential pre-assist, assist, or goal. As the game intensified, the left back started to notice a strange tingle in her right foot.

Thinking that it was a cramp starting to settle into her dominant foot, she relaxed her foot at the recommendation of the doctor at Barcelona who told her to do that when she had cramps. Y/n looked along at the game to see Claudia take a shot, which missed. 

However, her eyebrows knitted at the strange sensation creeping over her, but now it was at her fingertips. She glanced down and her heart began to race as she saw her hands fading, as though being erased from existence. The girl looked around and saw Esmee, her left wing on the pitch, fade away first. Panic surged through her veins as she stumbled, realizing she was disappearing before her own eyes.

After she vanished, chaos erupted. Players from both teams were vanishing, leaving behind bewildered teammates and gaping spectators. Then, spectators started to disappear before their own eyes. The once lively stadium fell into a panic as more and more individuals faded into nothingness.

On the bench, Y/n's girlfriend, Salma, watched in horror as her beloved vanished on the field. She looked to her right to see her little sister, Vicky, gone too. Dust in the air replaced Vicky’s once existence. 

“Y/n?” Salma didn’t care about the game that should’ve been taking place. At this point, all of the players on the bench ran onto the field to try and find their missing teammates. They’re gone. Just 14 out of 22 players on the pitch survived the “impossible” thing that had occurred. 

A piercing cry tore from Salma’s throat, knowing that Y/n was gone, she collapsed into a state of shock, unable to comprehend the sudden loss since her lover was on the pitch minutes before.

Five long years later, the years passed like a dreamless slumber for Y/n. Then, as unexpectedly as she had vanished, she reappeared on the same soccer pitch where she had last stood. Confusion and disorientation gripped her as she took in the familiar yet altered surroundings.

Y/n wore the same yellow senyera Barcelona Femení kit from 2023-2024, a relic of the past that felt strangely out of place in this new reality. She looked around, and to her astonishment, she saw the faces of those who had vanished alongside her returning at the same moment. Nobody was in the stands except for a few people who patted their bodies in complete shock. What happened? 

“Esmee?” Y/n called out as she saw Esmee’s widened eyes and shocked facial expressions. Nobody knew what happened, except for those who survived the blip. 

“I-I” The Dutch woman had no idea what to say. Y/n held her shoulder as she looked around to see people calling their family members, friends, or ran off of the pitch to see what's happening. 

“Come with me!” Y/n held onto Esmee’s arm gently. She ran across the pitch to see Vicky, Ari, Keira, and Ona stand around in confusion and panic. She ignored them, only wanting to see if she could find Salma anywhere. Where is Salma? What happened to Salma?

Going into the hallway that leads into their locker rooms, Y/n froze at the new designs in the hallway. She felt like everything changed in just 5 minutes. To her, she was playing in a match against Madrid CFF five minutes ago and now she is here.

“What is that?” Y/n heard Esmee behind her ask. The girl in the ponytail knitted her eyebrows together before looking up at three jerseys hanging on the wall with a frame. None of the kits she recognized. 

Before she... disappeared... y/n remembered the 23/24 jerseys inside of those same frames. Y/n looked down at the yellow kit she wore and back up at these new ones... did she travel to an alternate universe?

Confusion clouded her mind as she stared at the jerseys. "What is happening?" she whispered to herself. Esmee, who stands alongside Y/n, noticed her distress even though she was stressed herself.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Esmee asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"I...I need to find Salma," Y/n stammered, her thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty. She needed answers, and Salma was the only one who could provide them. She was on the bench when y/n played, and now she's gone. Salma has to know something.

Leaving the stadium, Y/n entered the parking lot, where more chaos filled the environment. People cried on the phone with loved ones, their faces etched with confusion and fear. Some were convinced they had experienced a mental episode, while others, recognizing Y/n from the barcelona femeni squad, bombarded her with questions.

"Do you know what happened?" one person asked, desperation in their voice.

"I don't, I’m sorry!" Y/n replied, her anxiety mounting. She made her way to the private parking lot for players and staff, where her car should have been, but it was nowhere to be found. She freaked out more before taking a few deep breaths remembering that public transport is good in Barcelona.

The journey to her apartment felt surreal, each passing scene a stark reminder of how much had changed. People were on the streets freaking out too. A toddler cried as her father comforted her in the chaos. Y/n frowned. When she finally arrived at her apartment after half an hour, she unlocked the door with trembling hands. 

Inside, everything seemed untouched, frozen in time. She realized that her apartment was the same way it was before she left for the Madrid CFF game —except for the absence of Salma's jackets on her coat hanger. 

Panic set in as she hurried round her apartment. 

Salma’s extra pair of shoes she left at y/n’s apartment? gone. 

Salma’s hair products she kept in y/n’s bathroom? gone. 

Salma’s clothes in the bedroom closet? gone. 

Y/n cried as she rushed to her kitchen island, where her iPhone lay. The device lit up, displaying a barrage of missed messages and notifications. Ignoring them all, she dialed Salma's number. The phone rang, each tone amplifying her dread and confusion. She needed to hear Salma’s voice, wondering if it was the end of the world. 

"Y/n?" Salma's voice on the other end was a mix of shock and sadness.

"Salma, where are you? What happened?" Y/n's words tumbled out in a rush.

Salma's response was hesitant. "Y/n, I-I’m sorry—---I can't talk right now." The line went dead.

The girl, who still wore her yellow Barcelona kit from the game she played “earlier” stood in shock. The Spanish girl never cut her off or ignored her like that. In a time where she needed answers and comfort, her girlfriend couldn’t talk? 

Desperation drove Y/n to Salma's apartment. Yes, she took the public transport again. 

After arriving outside the white door of Salma’s apartment, she pounded on the door. The noise was loud and neighbors would have complained if everything wasn’t so chaotic at the moment.  

The door swung open to reveal a girl with blonde hair and brown eyes, who stared at Y/n in astonishment. Y/n questioned if Salma moved away from the chaos, if this random woman now lived in her girlfriend’s apartment. 

"Who are you?" Y/n demanded.

"I'm Margo," the girl replied nervously. "I am Salma's girlfriend."

Y/n's mind reeled. "Girlfriend?" She felt her heart start to sink before her blood boiled, “What do you mean? You are not her girlfriend??” Her voice wavered as she pushed past Margo, entering the apartment. 

Her eyes found Salma, who had just walked into the living room, her expression a mixture of surprise and sorrow.

"Salma, what is going on?" Y/n's voice cracked, the weight of the situation bearing down on her.

Salma took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Y/n had tears pouring down her eyes as she looked back and forth between Salma and Margo, who had guilty looks on their faces.

"Y/n, I am so sorry—-- You don’t understand what happened, don’t you?” Salma asked. 

Y/n shakes her head, saying no silently. 

“You disappeared and you were gone for five years. News said that 50% of the population vanished because of an unreal event.” Salma explained. Y/n felt her lungs close together and her heart rapidly beat on her chest at the idea of being gone for FIVE years. Half a decade she was gone. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you this way. You were gone for five years. I waited and I hoped that you would come back eventually. I stayed in Barcelona and renewed my contract for an extra year hoping that you would return, but...I lost hope and now my contract is expiring— I’m moving to England to play for another club this summer. I’m sorry Y/n— I just had to move on before I got your call." Salma continued.

The words hit Y/n like a physical blow. Anger and sadness warred within her, tears spilling over. "I can't believe this," she whispered, backing away.

Salma reached out to hug her girlfriend?? ex-girlfriend?? However, Y/n turned and fled, the pain too much to bear. Salma had a new girlfriend and Y/n had a feeling that Salma wouldn’t drop Margo simply because she returned. 

Yn left the apartment, leaving Salma behind. She cried on the way home as she realized that her forever was altered by the cruel disruption of time.

-----

part two here for those who want a happy ending :)

</3

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

Watching Horror Movies Together

Super Short Headcanons || Modern Au

Genre: Fluff Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: None - super casual writing

AN: I know no one requested this but I was on a horror binge last night and couldn't stop thinking about how these guys would act during a scary movie marathon so I wrote a quick thing in my notes app to post teehee~ ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Is not scared at all - literally impossible to scare.

Thinks horror movies are predictable and kind of boring.

However, God forbid a dog dies in the movie because he will get up and turn it off and say that the writers went too far.

Grumbles and groans on movie nights where you choose a horror movie, but will always wrap an arm around you and insist of sharing a blanket because he just likes spending time with you and being able to hold you close.

Will tease you for your bad taste in movies but secretly loves watching them with you and finds himself getting sucked into them every now and then.

John Marston:

Is on the edge of his seat the whole time.

Claims he's watching them because he thinks they're funny, but actually really enjoys trying to figure out who the killer is and who's going to die when and where.

Jumps at every jump scare but acts like he didn't.

He needs to watch a Disney movie afterwards so he doesn't have nightmares. Will say it's for your sake and not his, though.

Man acts all big and bad, but once the music starts to get intense and there's a long hallway on the screen he is looking everywhere but at the TV so he isn't jumpscared again.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Probably taking notes during psychological horror movies on how to be manipulative.

Says the killer is misunderstood or that their tragic backstory makes the killing justified.

He will eat all the popcorn and then get upset when it's all gone. Cue the puppy eyes while he's begging you to go make more.

Spends a good forty-five minutes talking about how you and him would survive the movie because y'all are so much smarter than the main characters and would make it out of there.

Genuinely believes he's invincible and could survive any scenario.

Javier Escuella:

HATES horror movies because they genuinely scare him.

Well, he can handle slashers but he hates paranormal movies since he believes in ghosts 100% no questions asked.

Loves making a snack buffet for the movie - popcorn, candy, cookies, sodas, fries, and the works.

Encourages you to cuddle into him and hold him whenever you get too scared since he's so big and brave.

Will end up being the one hiding his face in your shoulder and holding you like a teddy bear because he got freaked out.

Charles Smith:

Loves to analyze horror movies in -like- an artistic way.

His favorite types are historical horrors because so much thought goes into them.

He will watch silly horror with you, though, like Scream and Tucker and Dale vs. Evil, but will spend the whole movie making fun of you. Lightheartedly, of course, he's saying that those aren't real scary movies and that you're kind of a wuss.

The entire movie his arm is wrapped around you and pressing you deep into his side so that you can cuddle and be warm. It's a little too comfortable though and you end up falling asleep there more often than not.

Loves it when you do that, it makes him feel all soft and warm on the inside.

Sean MacGuire:

Makes jokes the entire time.

Literally has something to say every 2 minutes that has the both of you laughing instead of being scared.

Honestly, it's the only way he can get through the whole movie.

If you start getting sucked into the movie and he's too nervous to fully focus on the screen, he will start throwing popcorn at you to get your attention.

Halfway through the movie he will make you pause it so that he can have a mental break from all the scary stuff and gore. Totally turns into a make-out session and the movie is long forgotten.

Sadie Adler:

Absolutely nothing fazes her, she LOVES scary movies.

She knows all the behind-the-scenes info about every movie you watch too because she deep dives into interviews and essays after watching them the first time.

Her eyes are glued to the screen but will have you lay your head in her lap so she can run her fingers through your hair to soothe you when you get scared.

Makes fun of you when you react at a jump scare. When you look up at her with a frown, she'll press kisses all over your face until you can't help but smile.

She loves that she can make you feel comforted and safe when you're scared, secretly loves it even more when you try to go to bed after the movie and you're clinging to her like a koala because you're still a little spooked by the film.

<><><><>

I know summer isn't even close to over yet, but I am so excited for Halloween this year, so here's a little Halloween in July (think like that Gravity Falls episode)

Hope you enjoyed <3

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

I blame @werewolfarthurmorganenjoyer for this but all of you modern Arthur fanfiction writers are wrong ARTHUR MORGAN IS A TRUCK DRIVER.

And I am saying long distance truck driver I mean gone for days, weeks, driving through states back and forth, living on the road. He keeps doing it because he brings in a lot of money (need for the gang - which in modern au is Dutch's and Hosea's foster family but they themselves call it their gang (also because Dutch and others still get involved in shady shit)).

He is always on the road, his truck is his bestfriend, and on his drives he has run ins with people who he helps. That woman scared about her old father living in a different state? Arthur stops there while on his mandatory break to check on him. The broke young man who got kicked out his house and needs a ride? He picks him up of the side of the road and listens to him talk. The gay couple running from home who jist need to get to the city to take a train and are counting pennies in the roadside bistro? He is driving them there and telling them to always stay by their side. He helps a guy fix his truck. He saves a wild deer stuck on the road. He sends the cash home to make sure Tilly stays in college, Jack is able to stay in the better kindergarten, and Hosea doesn't have to work full-time.

When does all that change? When he meets the daughter of the truck-company owner, who just started working in the office :DD

[transfem-edward]

edward wear dress/skirt!!!!

witness her NOW

[bunny-jpeg]

Helloooo, i fear my first order didn't go through(if it did feel free to ignore this one pls) but can i order a slice of apple pie with coffee and something on the house in verstappen's name pretty please🤭 my fav sauce is fem!dom but i understand if you're all out lol

bakery menu

feel free to submit your own order! i am accepting for more than just f1 if something tickles your fancy! i love servin' up smiles! as for this lovely request, ya'll have figured out i love a good set of rivals. something romantic and erotic about it! especially with mr. verstappen!

apple pie ("now be good and beg. thank you.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house/vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?")

cw: smut/pwp, dom!reader, begging, cowgirl position, rivals au, blindfolds & bondage, dom!reader, bd/sm baby,

the clock in the hotel room ticked as you sat on the couch, your phone in your hand and your face rested on your other hand as you leaned against the arm of the couch.

you thought about giving max a heads up about how much time he had left. but you knew what would only get him more excited. and this was a punishment, not a reward.

max verstappen fucked up.

the two of you have been in a limbo between rivals and lovers since you both joined f1 around the same time. he was the golden prodigy and you were the underdog. you, max and charles made three rivals.

but charles had no interest in getting between the both of you in the little games you played. he was very happy with his own love life. plus as he once said to max over a few drinks.

"what's going to happen when you eventually fall in love? i don't think there can be two verstappens on the track at the same time."

max shrugged and looked at his half-empty glass of his g&t, "that's if she even would take my last name."

charles knew you had it bad for max and max had it bad for you. he thought if you two were not drivers you would've been married with two kids living in some european country! and he would've been genuinely happy for the two of you.

he had spent most of his karting career between the two of you and the weird "i'm going to kill you" but also "let's have sex" energy, so to let you two figure it out was less stress on him.

the situation max was began a few hours after the dutch grand prix, outside the ferrari rooms. charles just put in his earbuds and went back to what he was doing on his phone. he wasn't getting involved.

"you are a backstabbing bastard, verstappen." you snapped, arms crossed as you stared at him.

he had his arms on his hips, "backstabbing! i did nothing to you! that dnf was your fault."

"my! my fault! you fucking ran me off the track you piece of shit!"

he made a face, "then get better!"

you couldn't gone for his throat, it would've made international headlines if you just lunged at him and made a mess of that handsome face. you wondered if all those girls would still follow him around if he had a busted lip.

"you're a fucking prick, max."

he reached out and held you jaw, those blue eyes on you. but you stood your ground and put a hand on his wrist. there was a moment of stand off before he leaned in to you and whispered, "drieëndertig en vijf."

thirty-three and five.

your racing numbers. you looked at him and took his hand off your face. ah, this is what this was all about. the current champion had some pent up energy.

the last your teammate heard of the two of you was the slamming of the hotel room door.

now max was blindfolded on his knees with those strong arms tied behind his back. his posture was weakening the longer he had to kneel there.

also your bullet vibrator taped to his cock using medical tape. you were glad that you collected and held onto the weirdest shit in your make-up bag or you would've have the tape.

his liked it all. he panted heavily, you looked up from you phone and smiled at him. poor verstappen. he might have walked away with the trophy but there was no better than prize than a man on his knees.

you leaned forward a little bit. and level the camera to his face. he was blindfolded and you snapped a photo. then you cupped his face, nudging your thumb against his lips which he then opened his mouth like a good boy.

soon he was sticking his tongue out of his mouth and you pressed your thumb against it while you snapped a picture. he really was trained, but then again. you only had yourself to pat yourself on the back for that.

when you found he was a total sub, he was like putty in your hands. world champion likes when he long time racing rival tied him up and makes him drip pre-cum down his cock.

"please." he pleaded.

"please, what?"

he then gasped and came all over himself. his eyes were wide and his back hunched over as cum spurted all over his abdomen. his entire body was shaking from the after shocks.

you sighed and looked from your phone, "verstappen, where are your manners?" you also saw he was still painfully erect. you kissed your teeth and got up. the poor guy was worn out enough.

you crouched down and turned the toy off. you made a face as you saw there was cum all over it. nothing you could not clean, just a bit of an inconvenience.

"max, you with me?" you asked as you tapped the apple of his left cheek, "need to slow down? give me a sign, verstappen." it was erotic for you too. he liked when you sounded bored, disinterested in him falling apart sexually.

you tried not to get psychological with it. but, you guessed that he was used to people being disinterested in him. lazy, stupid... at least at the end of this you'll hold him. care for him.

he nodded, "i'm good, het gaat goed met me." he was panting heavily.

you quickly took the blindfold off and looked in his eyes. they looked a little hazy, but still the shining blue was still there. you then kissed him on the lips.

"you did good." you said between kisses, "you're still so hard." you chuckled a little.

"can't help it." he panted, "you drive me crazy."

you kissed the side of his face and said, "alright, let's get you on the bed. and i'll wear you out, max." when gave his cheek a small pinch. you then got the binds off of him and took him by the hand and got him onto the bed.

he laid out with his cock painfully hard. he was still covered in cum. and shuddered when you took one of the face cloths from the bathroom and wiped it off of him. you tossed it off the bed when you were done.

"i'm going to beat you next time, verstappen." you said as you started to get undressed, "then i'm really going to really overstimulate you." then splayed your hands across his exposed chest. feeling the rise and fall of it under your touch.

"i don't expect anything else." he gave a light chuckle as he felt you sink yourself on his cock. he groaned when you hit the base and he clutched onto covers under him.

he couldn't touch you unless you gave him permission. he watched you find the pace on his cock. you had your hands on his chest as you rolled your hips up and down on him.

"please." he groaned.

you chuckled, "mmm, i don't know max." you felt hot all over from this entire ordeal, "you were being mean to me earlier. and that's not acceptable."

"i'm sorry, i'll be good next time." he whined.

you rode him gently and you felt him twitch under you. he looked simply so good.

he continued his cute begging, "please. fuck, i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have been so mean." his voice cut off in a moan as he panted wildly, "you're an amazing driver. i'm.. i'm nothing."

you cupped his face, "no need for that, max. you make racing fun, going up against you is like butting heads with a titan. you're not nothing." your voice was cool. also a genuine affection was in there.

"i want to be a good boy for you."

and who could deny that?

"you always are, max. you're my good boy. the second best driver i know." you chuckled. he looked up curiously, almost hurt that he was labeled second best.

before he could ask who was the number one best, you patted his hot cheek and face, "because i'm number one." then leaned in to kiss him on the lips as you continued to rock your body against his.

the bed moved against the wall every so gently as you thrusted against max. you felt warm all over as you moved against him. he felt like a dream. you would often joke to him that it was like you two were a perfect fit.

he never denied the claim.

you pulled away from the kiss and planted both hands on either side of his head. you panted, "you're a good sub for me. i bet everyone thinks you're the big man in charge. but no, no, no. you curl against my like a good little kitten."

"i only want to make you happy." you admitted through heavy pants.

"and you'll always make me happy. not only in the bedroom, but also on the track. as much as i want to win, i want you to be successful too. you in second and i in first."

he chuckled lightly, cheeks stained pink, "that was almost romantic."

you kissed him once more and said, "don't get used to it. you're still my rival." you knew eventually you two would end up getting married, at this point the lines were so painfully blurred that another person couldn't get between you two.

in moments like this, if someone asked either of you if you were dating. the word "yes" would slip out so easily. thank god, this was as private as it got.

you continued his movement against him, and watched him ball his fists into the sheets. you felt your breathing grow heavy as you felt the thump on your heartbeat.

"you're a good boy."

"please."

"i mean it, verstappen." you kissed him once more. the kisses led down his neck and to his collarbone where he hissed. you always knew how sensitive it was. one time you tried to leave a hickey on the skin and he had to cover his mouth because his noises were a little too loud.

"thank you." the pleasure was clouding his head as he felt your sweet pussy around it. it didn't take long for him to finish, and his brain short wired for a moment.

he relaxed against the bed and panted heavily. trying to get as much air in his chest.

you leaned back and rubbed his chest as you continued to ride him which only shoved his cum deeper into you. risky games just like their racing.

"fuck, schat." he groaned.

"i got you, max. don't worry." you replied as you kept your pace up, feeling the heat in your body and buzz your brain. you rode yourself to completion and hunched over him for a moment. you could feel your heart race. you wiped the sweat off your neck. you were both done for the night.

he cursed something and tried to catch his breath.

"good boy." you said as you laid next to him, half-spooning him. you played with his hair and felt the steadiness of his heart beat.

"i'm going to beat you again." he said through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

you chuckled and kissed him on the forehead, "right, right. but i'll still take the championship home."

he tilted his head up and you kissed him on the lips. it'll be another

in the next room, charles was staring at the ceiling with his cheek between his teeth. he was thankful when the thumping in the next room stopped. the only problem he had now was the painful erection in his shorts.

maybe him not getting involved was making things worse.

[miguel-owhora]

a rough timeline of the modern!morbell au

where they're in college and micah is also a youtuber who gets cancelled a lot, with a plot of being illegal lawyers. this is just a pre-tl to the actual college meeting, if that makes sense. might make other parts

Granddaddy Bell had connections to shady people with even shadier and illegal activities. He created Bell Inc., a law firm that would later grow into a powerhouse in its own right, as a cover up to do his shady business. He'd raise Daddy Bell to be his successor, and would instill his teachings into Jr., and pass down his years of crimes to his son. Later on, after his passing, Micah Bell Jr. would become the CEO of Bell Inc.

Around the time a then young Bell Jr. would take control of the firm, a few other firms popped up. In a similar fashion that Granddaddy Bell had taken, these firms would only open up to be a cover up for, again, shady business. Among these businesses would rise two household names: Van der Linde Ent. and O'Driscoll Corp. Both companies were once business partners, but after a case gone wrong, they ended up parting on bad terms, sparking a rivalry that would, behind doors, more often than not end in bloodshed.

A couple years down the line, Van der Linde founder and co-founder, Dutch Van der Linde and Hosea Matthews, would adopt a young boy by the name of Arthur Morgan, who would retain his last name. While Hosea clearly wanted to adopt a son for the sake of having a son, Dutch figured it'd be good for the business. He did, however, end up loving Arthur like a son. So much so that they ended up adopting another boy a couple years later, followed by their last child and only daughter; John Marston and Tilly Jackson, respectively. The age in which all three kids are adopted will be left up to interpretation, though it can be established that they were all above six years old.

During all of the Van der Linde-Matthews family growth, Micah Bell Jr. is raising his sons, Micah Bell III and Amos Bell, by himself, with the help of various nannies and maids, because, well, they come from old money. Surprisingly, despite his apparent darker and nihilistic views on life, Daddy Bell isn't a terrible father. Sure, he's strict and expects only the best from his sons, but which parent doesn't? No, Daddy Bell does try to be a good dad, and does try to raise his sons to be the best versions of themselves, and truly does love them.

Both set of parents, VDL-Matthews and Bell respectively, each try to instill similar teachings to their children. Both want their children to be lawyers so they can take over the firms, both want their children to know the way of crime and criminals, and both want their children to be the best versions of themselves.

It's around Micah Bell III's 14 years of being alive that does he begin to rebel. He becomes more argumentative and abrasive, he spends his allowance on the newest games and begins to skip classes to spend his time elsewhere. It's around this time that he uploads his first video, a ragebait of all topics, to YouTube, marking the beginning of a troll.

Timeskip to a couple years forward, Micah finds himself in college of all places. He has a decent following online, mostly of other people who either love him for his humor or hate him. He skips going to CC and jumps straight to university because, hello, he has the money, and though he doesn't want to be there at all, he studies pre-law, or something like that. Contrary to popular belief, he is rather intelligent, and having been raised by a lawyer of a father who read him law books to sleep, he has a good grasp on it.

A couple years later, Arthur Morgan enters the scene. Much like Micah, Arthur doesn't find his passion in law. But unlike Micah, Arthur's dads are understanding and support his aspiration to study art (or something similar.) Which is how Arthur finds himself at the same college as Micah, and how this AU came to be.

[sentanixiv]

Drunken Deeds

@emmithar-blog shared with me a scenario from a dream that I could not resist writing, so... blame her?

Dreamt of drunken Arthur running inside modern store where he keeps trying to lasso the little kiddy horse ride and shouting 'he's getting away!' each time he misses.

Modern AU; Tilly summons Hosea to help sort a situation with an inebriated Arthur.

cw: alcohol/drunkenness, grief/mourning, child loss

Drunken Deeds

Lord knew judgment weren't the reason Hosea went for him. Sinners like them, well. They knew better than to throw stones in glass houses and his being the fine, crystalline structure it was? Made it clear, in every ironic sense, that claiming piety wouldn't do more than put a new window in what had to be a solid wall. Only so many times even a silver-tongued shyster like himself could patch up the fractures and make the illusion of it being whole.

No judgment, then, spurred him into action when Tilly caught up with him between the aisles of books and across from the jewellery counter, his eye on a lucrative little piece kept displayed under lock and key. Had himself an angle, a real nice thought to go with the wilted widower, seeking something fine to honour his late wife. In his pocket, tucked in a velvet bag, he had the cheap glass duplicate ready to switch when the attendant turned to fetch him a tissue as his old eyes misted up with fond memory of dear, sweet Bessie - sadness summoned at the drop of a hat in his line of work, the years having dulled the ache of loss.

"It's Arthur," Tilly said in a hushed voice, looking over her shoulder to ensure no one peered to close at them.

"Arthur?" Hosea shook his head and set a gentle hand on her arm. "No, Arthur's not here, my dear," he assured her. "Dutch has him covered." In a sense. Keeping Arthur from trouble were a two-man job at the best of times, but with how close the young man'd become to the whiskey bottle of late, well. It meant a certain degree of supervision needed to keep him from drowning and it weren't his lifeguard shift quite yet.

Tilly fidgeted with the hem of her jacket, a lovely flowing yellow piece which lent her a sense of innocence that the world'd otherwise stolen from her sweet soul. "That's just it," she insisted. "Me and Mary-Beth both heard him holler and she's there right now, trying to talk some sense into him."

"I'm afraid Miss Gaskill will run out of air before making any headway," he said. "Boy never did possess a lick of sense." Hosea gave her a crooked, confident smile - something to ease the tension that tangled her fingers together worriedly. He patted her arm gently, knowing that none of Miss Grimshaw's ladies aimed to cause a fuss when the matriarch weren't around to cause it for them. They were observers, sharp-eyed and sharp-witted, able to find the smallest opportunity and make it lucrative when the airs were peaceful.

That worried him some, then, that Tilly spoke of Arthur and hollering, a disruptive shift to her subtle efficiency. He paused, head tilted back with some consideration, then nodded as though his decision made - one already decided when she insisted on it being Arthur. Never had a son, him nor Bessie, and with his wife gone to heaven, well, Arthur were the best son he could hope for, so he'd always be ready to go after him. "Why don't I go speak with him? Then you and Mary-Beth can continue on your day."

Many things existed which Tilly Jackson could handle and he had no doubt that she'd've done herself justice here if he hadn't been around, but ability didn't mean comfort, nor the confidence needed to snap Arthur back off whatever track he'd gone down. The man wouldn't never hurt no lady, of that they all knew, but he could be right ornery and a headache all the same. Ruinous for a lovely shopping afternoon, or for a scouting foray hid amidst feminine wiles.

She smiled, a bright ray of sunshine and relief, and took his arm when he offered it, guiding them towards the back of the department store. The deeper they went, the more apparent it became that the ladies hadn't made the call to fetch him lightly. Hollering he heard loudly, and the plaintive requests from store employees doing their best to stop the chaos that'd started unfolding. He could hear Mary-Beth's voice pitched louder than the lady preferred, asking Arthur to let things go and come walk with her. A last-ditch appeal to those few gentlemanly manners he kept hidden beneath the gruff.

Then, as they came around the final corner, Hosea understood the extent of disruption his not-quite-son'd gone and done. Toys lay scattered everywhere, the aisle one for toddler treasures, and Arthur stood in the midst of it. Swayed more like it, glassy-eyed and clearly drunker than a skunk bathed in moonshine. He, in turn, faced off with a truly formidable opponent that seemed to have him bested: A small horse on four wheels, the sort that one might give a toddler to scoot around on in the house.

"Ye- You ain't gettin' no away, y'bastard," Arthur muttered, words slurred together as he readied up a lasso made from skip rope. "I ain't- You ain't-" The effort of talking too much, he raised up the lasso and cast out, missing the horse by a good foot. "Dang-- Stupid-- Horse, stop! He's gettin' away!"

Hosea gave Tilly one final, gentle pat on the arm and stepped away, an understanding sinking deep into his bones to what was going on. Three weeks ago had been the phone call that severed the faintest threads of hope for a life away from his past. Three weeks since Arthur broke his phone by punching it and his fist into the wall until something broke. The phone could be replaced, but his knuckles still bore bruises and half-healed scrapes from repeated impact against the brick wall. Three weeks since the young man'd been sober and, based on Hosea's own experiences with grief and liquor, likely three months or more until he'd return to it.

He held up both hands, calling up the attention of the employees and passersby that were staring wide-eyed as Arthur tried and failed once more to lasso the toy horse. "Ladies and gentlemen, I implore you to forgive my son," he said, voice one of authority and apology both. "Things have been quite difficult of late and, as you see, he doesn't have much sense to be dealing with it sober. My humblest apologies for the disruption - and I assure you, any damaged merchandise will be paid for." This he said with a hand over his heart, a promise he could later wheedle them out of. "If you could all just move along, I can promise there will be no further disruptions."

Mary-Beth, looking rather relieved, took that as her sign to start shuffling gawwkers away, while Tilly took a rather more blunt approach against the stubborn few clingers that remained. "Shame on you, with the phone? Would your mamma want you recorded when you're in need?" She shook her head and the filming rubberneck drew back, interest curbed and phone lowered. "Why don't I help you delete that, so no one needs know better, hmm?"

Content that the ladies had that part of the process handled, Hosea approached Arthur, who'd sunk down to his knees and held the skip rope tightly between his hands. "Okay, Arthur," he offered, calm and steady, as he crouched down. "Why don't we get up now, leave these folks to their day."

Arthur blinked slowly, focus broken from his horse nemesis, and looked up when Hosea offered him a hand. Bloodshot eyes, shadowed by weeks of drinking and despondency, flashed recognition, than the heaviness of understanding that he'd gone and screwed something up. "What're… 'Sea?" he mumbled, looking down at the skip rope, around at the toys.

There'd been a part of him that hoped to get Arthur out of there before he realized quite where he had ended up, and that part must've lost its bet with fate and luck. Hosea did not sigh, nor did he judge, as he let his knee rest on the ground, providing a barrier between Arthur and the few store employees left to deal with his mess. "That's right, Arthur, it's me," he assured him, reaching to gently pull the lasso from his hands. "Why don't you and I go for a walk?"

"That- Dutch said." Arthur shook his head, grasping blindly through the fog of intoxication for whatever sense had led him here. "Dutch said I oughta walk… get some air. Some space. Be good for me."

Hosea bit back the desire to curse, to pull out his phone and send Dutch a sharp text reminding him that Arthur needed folk around him, not to be sent away. Foolish, prideful desire to go off on one of his plans no doubt spurring Dutch to encourage the boy outside the confines of their safe house. "I think you've had plenty space for today," he replied, setting said the skip rope and shifting to haul one arm over his shoulders. "Let's get you up."

Arthur tried, lord did he, but he must've found and drank the good whiskey by the way his legs kept turning to rubber and dragging them down. Then, halfway through a third attempt, Hosea heard a small, choked sob and the man's full weight pulled them both to the ground.

"S'gotten away, 'Sea," Arthur muttered, miserable and hoarse as he stared at the little toy horse. "Don't- It don't matter hows far I try, he's…"

"Gone, Arthur." Small and softly spoken, for all the ache it awoke in his chest. He let the man slump there a moment, shielded him from prying eyes so the tears that tracked down his face had no witness to haunt him later. The mourning, the loss - he knew this pain. From going through it himself with Bessie, drunken and cussing for months on end. Now watching Arthur go through it, his heart shattered because it ain't never been true love with him nor Eliza, no. But Isaac? Weren't no love more true than that father to his son.

Lord knew judgment weren't the reason Hosea worked hard to get Arthur on his feet, thanking Mary-Beth when she came back and offered her assistance. And judgment wouldn't never be the result of seeing Arthur broke down like this, shattered since the day he got the call, the day he'd learned his son'd been taken from life. Judgment had no place here, never would - Hosea'd make sure of that, a small consolation for a young man dealt one of life's worst hands.

[charles-smith-pillow-princess]

Sometimes I write things!

never ending kind of love AU: informally known as The Canadian Shack AU. Arthur gets shot at the Cornwall Refinery and is forced to travel with Charles to Canada while Charles evacuates the Wapiti. Charles nurses him through his TB and the AU kicks off three years into their relationship when Arthur's TB has gone into remission. Basic premise is the guys learn how to accept themselves and trust one another through exploring their kinks. Consists of:

Snow Bunny: Three years after the dissolution of the Van der Linde gang, Arthur and Charles pass a long winter together. Arthur calls Charles something new in bed, to rave reviews. Later, he earns a new nickname of his own. (or, Arthur Morgan-Smith's Guide To Surviving The Canadian Winter, Cowboy Style) Once Bitten, Twice Shy: Three years after leaving the gang, Arthur receives a telegram from Dutch. Charles loses his fucking mind. like cats and dogs: Charles brings a kitten home to the cabin he and Arthur share. She's adorable, mischievous, and loves stealing hair ties. She's also waging a war against Arthur's dick. [Five Times Charles' Cat Cock-Blocked Arthur (And the One Time They Made Peace)] Further Sartorial Adventures: A chance encounter with an old friend reveals some interesting details about Arthur’s early days with the gang. In the aftermath, Arthur helps Charles explore a newfound desire. (Charles tries out wearing a corset and Arthur 'wife guy' Morgan earns his moniker).

Stand Alones:

the stars are not wanted now: Charles Smith, Sadie Adler, and the two deaths of Arthur Morgan. Sightseeing: Arthur and Javier take in the local gun show. Sadie makes a move. Charles is confused.